The summer sun shone over Halcyon High School, making the tall windows glow with warm light. The polished floors reflected bright pools across the desks of Class 2-B. If you didn't know any better, it would have seemed like the most ordinary day.
Atlas Wood sat near the back, his long legs stretched in front of him, one hand idly turning his black wristwatch. At nineteen, he was tall—six feet even—with fair skin and black hair that fell in loose, medium-length strands just over his brow. His bright blue eyes, flecked with gold, had a distant, unsettling clarity that made people hesitate to meet them. Even now, in a plain charcoal leather jacket over a fitted dark T-shirt and jeans, he looked so effortlessly handsome that more than one girl had stolen a glance his way—only to look quickly back down when he caught them. He rarely smiled, and today he didn't look like he had any intention of starting.
Up front, Alaric Quinn leaned over his desk, sketching little doodles in the margins of his notebook. He was about 5'10", with an olive complexion and short, tousled blond hair that never seemed to stay in place, no matter how many times he tried to smooth it. A faint grin tugged at his mouth, the kind of grin he always wore even when he was about to get in trouble. He wore a crisp navy suit—something that should have looked too formal in a high school classroom, but on Alaric it somehow worked. Around one wrist was a scuffed leather bracelet, a small sentimental keepsake he never took off.
Seated beside him was Clara Wells, bright and lively in a colourful blouse and fitted jeans. At 5'6", she looked smaller than she was, her fair skin and expressive deep green eyes giving her a kind of fresh-spring brightness that made people feel better just being near her. Her chestnut-brown hair, soft and wavy, brushed her shoulders as she leaned over to watch Alaric draw. A dainty silver necklace rested against her collarbone, and a few stacked rings flashed when she moved her hand.
"Alaric," Clara whispered, trying not to laugh, "you're seriously going to fail if you keep drawing those little knights."
"I'm learning important life skills," Alaric replied solemnly, shading in a tiny dragon. "Like how to slay mythical beasts."
Serena Vale looked up from her neat notes, her almond-shaped hazel eyes glimmering with patient amusement. Serena was, without a trace of exaggeration, the most beautiful girl Atlas—or anyone—had ever seen. She was tall, about 5'8", with a graceful posture and long jet-black hair that fell down her back in a silky cascade. Her features were striking yet gentle—elegant cheekbones, full lips, and those luminous eyes that seemed to look straight into your thoughts. She wore a flowing white dress that made her look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. A pair of delicate hoop earrings glinted at her ears, and a simple silver bracelet encircled one slender wrist.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gave Alaric a reproving look. "You two… There's a quiz next week. Maybe you should learn actual history before you try to rewrite it."
"That's why I'm practicing my battle plans," Alaric protested. "You never know when a dragon might show up."
Clara giggled. "Then you'll be our hero?"
Alaric swept a dramatic hand over his heart. "Naturally."
Serena shook her head, her long hair rippling over her shoulders. "You're impossible."
At the back, Atlas felt a small, unfamiliar tug at his chest. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to always live in that moment—no looming darkness, no hidden truths, no weight pressing on his shoulders. Just Clara's bright laughter, Alaric's good-natured nonsense, and Serena's gentle voice.
But it wouldn't last.
He knew.
Today is the day.
He let his gaze drift to the window. The bright sky was starting to look strange—a shimmer, like heat haze on pavement, only darker, more alive.
A sudden scream echoed from the hallway.
Mr. Alden stopped mid-sentence. "Everyone, stay in your seats."
But it was already too late.
Out the windows, shadows spread across the sky. Enormous, drifting shapes flickered into view—gray-black forms, their edges constantly dissolving into smoke. And in the darkness, dozens of dull red eyes blinked open, staring down with cruel amusement.
Alaric straightened, the last trace of his smile vanishing. "What the hell are those?"
Serena's face had gone pale. "Atlas…do you know—?"
He didn't answer.
Universal Mirages, he thought. They've come.
All across the schoolyard, the creatures drifted lower, savoring the panic. Their presence was a pressure against the mind—an ancient malice that delighted in suffering. They watched people scream, run, collapse to their knees in despair, and they enjoyed every moment of it. They fed on fear, bathed in terror like it was sunlight. This wasn't war—it was sport. And Earth had just become the arena.
In every direction, students vanished in blinding flashes of blue light, some taken before they even had time to scream. The Mirages moved through walls and ceilings as though they were mist, each one choosing their victims with a sadistic calm.
And through it all, Atlas sat still. Watching. Waiting.
One student vanished just two seats away from him. Another screamed before her voice was cut off completely. A cold fog seemed to settle over the classroom as Mirages closed in.
Atlas didn't move. Not yet. His hands stayed at his sides. His golden-flecked eyes took in every movement.
Not yet… he told himself. Don't blow your cover. Don't show them what you are until it's necessary.
But then—
One Mirage, larger than the rest, surrounded by faint crackling blue sparks, drifted straight through the wall into Class 2-B. Desks rattled. The lights flickered.
A cold, echoing voice whispered inside every mind.
Rejoice, little creatures. You have been chosen for our entertainment.
The fear hit like a wave. Serena's hand gripped her desk, knuckles white. Clara clung to Alaric's arm, her breath catching in her throat. Alaric tried to look brave, but his shoulders were rigid and his voice silent. It wasn't just fear—it was helplessness.
The Mirage's eyes scanned the classroom slowly. "You are so fragile," it said. "Watching you die… brings us such joy."
It raised one arm toward Serena.
Her almond-shaped hazel eyes were filled with fear. "N-no…"
Next to her, Alaric moved instinctively, trying to protect her. "Don't you dare!"
But he was frozen in place, unable to reach her. Serena's body began to shimmer, flickering like static.
Atlas stood up.
His chair scraped sharply against the floor.
"That's enough."
His voice cut through the room like lightning—quiet but impossible to ignore.
The Mirage turned. "What did you say?"
Atlas's expression was cold. "I said: take your fun somewhere else."
The Mirage laughed, a horrible sound. "You think you can stop me?I am way too powerf—"
Atlas raised his hand.
"Water Prison."
A swirling sphere of water erupted in mid-air and snapped around the Mirage, trapping it. The creature screamed and thrashed, slamming against the walls of the sphere.
Everyone stared.
Serena gasped. Alaric's jaw dropped. Clara stood frozen.
"How…?" Serena whispered. "Atlas, what did you…?"
The Mirage howled. "You—this is impossible! You shouldn't have power yet!"
Atlas stepped forward. "You're going to answer some questions."
The Mirage hissed. "I will never submit to a mortal."
The sphere began to shrink slightly, water churning faster.
Atlas didn't blink. "Then stay there forever."
It growled. "Fine. Ask."
Atlas didn't move. "How many Universal Mirages are on Earth?"
"Eight hundred thirty-five," it snarled. "Now let me—"
"What ranks?" Atlas interrupted.
"Five hundred E rank… Two hundred D rank … Hundred C rank … Twenty-five B rank… Ten A+ rank."
The classroom fell silent.
"How many are in this school?"
"Fifteen E ranks," it spat. "Including me."
Clara looked like she was going to be sick. Alaric put a steadying hand on her back. Serena didn't speak—she was just staring at Atlas, eyes wide with confusion and fear.
"Final question," Atlas said, his voice low. "Why were you sent here?"
The Mirage hesitated. Then it began to glow.
"Don't," Atlas said.
The glow intensified.
"Defense Element: First Form—Aegis Shield!"
A golden shield snapped into place just as the Mirage exploded in a brilliant white flash. The blast rocked the classroom. Desks flipped. Windows cracked. The roar echoed through the school.
But when it cleared, only the four of them were alive. The shield slowly disappeared
Serena ran to him. "Atlas… Where did they go? What is happening?"
Clara stumbled forward. "You—You saved us. But how?"
Alaric looked at his friend with wide eyes. "Talk to us, man. Please."
Atlas pulled out his phone. News headlines screamed:
MYSTERIOUS CREATURES ATTACKING CITIES WORLDWIDE
He took a breath and looked at his friends—Serena, Clara, Alaric.
"This world," he said, "is not what you think it is."