It was 6:00 PM, the evening air cool and heavy with the scent of rain-soaked earth.
In a cramped rehearsal room, a group of first-years rehearsed a song for The Alignment, their voices weaving under Seline's sharp direction.
She waved a metal stick like a choir master, her rank-six prefect badge catching the dim light.
Rowan stood among them, his voice faltering, barely keeping up.
The song faded to a whisper in his ears, drowned by a chill that clawed his spine.
In the corner, he saw it—the shadow from his vision, 12 feet tall, six arms, red eyes glowing like embers, teeth jagged and hungry.
It sat, motionless, its presence a suffocating weight. "I'll wait," it hissed, voice like scraping stones.
Rowan's face drained of color, fear locking his chest.
"Hey, you over there!" Seline snapped, her stick pausing mid-air.
Rowan turned, disoriented, his heart hammering.
"Focus," she barked, eyes narrowing.He glanced back—the shadow was gone.
His hands shook, dread pooling deeper.
Theo, across the room, caught his gaze, raising a brow in a silent You okay?
Rowan shook his head yes, his throat tight. Theo's frown softened, but Seline's glare kept him from talking further.
Outside, another group of first-years hauled heavy crates from a storeroom for Alignment decorations, grunting under the weight.
Asher and Nico dusted shelves, sweat beading on their brows despite the chill.
Blake leaned against a wall, his menacing grin fixed on Asher, like a predator biding time.
Asher turned away, disgust curling his lip, the weight of Blake's favor—a debt for the stolen note—burning in his mind. Asher shoved it down, focusing on the task.
"I haven't seen Rowan all day," Nico said, brushing dust from a crate, his voice low.
"What's going on with him?"
"He told me he had something to do," Asher replied, voice clipped.
"He should be at the rehearsals now."
Nico paused, wiping his hands. "He's been weird lately. You think he's hiding something?"
Asher's jaw tightened, Rowan's secrecy gnawing at him. "Maybe. He's not talking."
A low thud interrupted. Two students dropped a small box before Torren, the rank-nine prefect, his cold eyes scanning them.
Nico, angled just right, caught a glimpse as they opened it.
"Chronothite," he whispered, nudging Asher urgently.
"What?" Asher said, confused, following Nico's gaze.
The box gleamed with dark, metallic shards, their edges sharp and strange.
Torren muttered instructions, pointing the students toward another storeroom.
"If that's chronothite," Asher said, voice low, excitement sparking, "we might not need to meet Nina."
Nico's eyes flicked to Torren, who was barking orders. "What are you gonna do? We're supposed to clean."
"Cover for me," Asher said, already moving, his pulse quickening. "I'll be back."
"What happened to asking Nina?" Nico hissed, grabbing his arm. "You're being insane, Asher."
"Am not," Asher shot back, shaking free.
"This is our shot. Just keep Torren off me."
Nico's voice dropped, urgent. "You get caught, we're both screwed."
Asher's eyes narrowed. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."
Nico sighed, reluctant. "Fine, but if Torren notices, I'm saying you ditched."
"Deal," Asher said, slipping into the shadows, tailing the students with the box.
He followed them to a cluttered storeroom, shelves packed with Alignment props—banners, lanterns, symbols etched with unfamiliar runes.
Hiding behind a crate, Asher watched as the students set the box down. "Dude, have you seen my retainer?" one asked, patting his pockets.
"What would I be doing with your retainer? That's gross," the other replied. "We've got more work to do. That's your worry."
"I probably left it on that table,lets leave," the first said, and they left, their footsteps fading.
Asher waited, heart pounding, then darted to the box.
He pried it open, revealing jagged chronothite shards, their dark surfaces glinting faintly.
"Bingo," he muttered, pocketing a small piece, its weight cold against his skin.
A noise outside froze him—a key clicking in the lock. "Lock the door," a voice said. "I don't want any trouble."
"It's locked," another replied.
"Shit," Asher hissed, rushing to the door.
He pushed, silent but desperate—it didn't budge. Doomed, he thought, panic rising, his breath short.
He scanned the room, searching for any escape, but the shelves offered no answers.
The chronothite in his pocket felt heavier, like a curse.
Back in the storeroom, Nico dusted furiously, his eyes darting to the door, hoping Asher would slip back unnoticed.
Torren loomed behind him, voice cold as ice. "Where's your partner?"
Nico's voice shook, his mind racing. "He—He went to use the bathroom."
Torren's eyes narrowed, fury sparking. "My eyes have been here for twenty minutes. No one's left or entered.
He ran away, didn't he?".
Nico hesitated, heart sinking, but before he could answer, a voice cut through.
"I'm right here" Asher said, stepping forward, somehow back, his face defiant despite the sweat on his brow.
Torren smirked, almost mocking. "Oh, the first-year golden boy.
Don't piss me off. Get back to work."
As Torren turned, Blake sauntered in, only to be stopped by Torren's glare.
Nico's eyes widened, his voice a harsh whisper. "What took you so long? You almost got us in trouble."
"I got locked" Asher muttered,
"How did you get out?" Nico asked, curious.
Asher glanced at Blake's smug grin across the room, voice low.
"It's two favors now."
"Why'd you—" Nico started, curious.
"Drop it," Asher cut in, his tone sharp. "We've got the chronothite. That's what matters."
Nico shook his head, dusting slower. "You're gonna owe Blake your soul at this rate."
Asher's jaw clenched, the truth of it stinging. "Let's just get through this."
By 8:00 PM, Asher, Nico, Theo, and Rowan trudged back to their dorms, their bodies aching from the day's tasks.
The evening air was crisp, the academy eerily quiet, but an undercurrent of unease lingered, as if the walls themselves were watching.
"I'm so tired," Theo groaned, rubbing his neck, his voice hoarse from singing.
"From singing?" Asher mocked, a faint grin breaking through his tension. "Then I'm dead."
"I never thought singing would be so much work," Rowan said, his voice flat.
"How many songs?" Nico asked, kicking a pebble as they walked.
"Twenty-three," Rowan answered, his tone hollow.
"That's a lot," Nico said, and they all laughed, their shared exhaustion a brief shield against their fears.
Asher's tone shifted, serious. "We got the chronothite."
"Two favors owed," Nico added, smirking, though his eyes held worry.
"How'd it get to two?" Theo asked, confused, catching up.
"Chronothite? Favors? What's going on?" Rowan said, eyes narrowing, his nerves fraying.
"We found the stolen note, which I didn't steal, you're welcome, Nico," Theo said, pointing a finger.
"Am sorry about that," Nico admitted, scratching his head.
"No harsh feelings," Theo said, waving it off.
"Blake stole the note, asked for a favor," Asher continued, his voice tight.
"And you just gave it to him," Rowan complained, his tone sharp with distrust.
"I had no option, okay? We've moved on," Asher said, irritation flaring.
"We also got this book from him, says it'll reveal the note's message. Need chronothite ground into a solution."
Asher pulled out the shard, its dark surface glinting. "Stole this during cleanup. Got locked in the storeroom."
"Boom, two favors. Blake saved his ass," Nico concluded, shaking his head.
"So much in one day," Rowan muttered, his eyes distant, the shadow's red eyes flashing in his mind.
"Where've you been, by the way?" Theo asked, turning to Rowan, his tone curious but edged.
Rowan stiffened, nervous, his hands fidgeting. "I had to attend to something."
"What things?" Nico pressed, stepping closer.
"Yeah, be more specific," Theo added, his eyes narrowing.
"Trust me, it's nothing important," Rowan said, turning his face away, hiding the fear of the shadow's voice.
"Fine, keep your secrets," Asher said, exasperated, his patience thin.
"Tomorrow, I'll hit the clinic after classes, talk to Nina," Asher concluded, pocketing the shard.
There was a brief silence amongst them.
Theo grinned, breaking the silence,his energy infectious despite the day's weight.
"You know, since I met you guys, a lot's changed. I mean a lot. Whatever's out there, we'll fight it. I believe we can."
"I can actually agree," Nico said, his voice softer, a rare vulnerability showing. "I've felt less insecure about this place, about myself."
Asher nodded, his guard lowering. "A lot's happened since I got here. Some things I'm still figuring out. You guys have been… helpful, comforting. Not to be cringe."
There was another brief silence.
Theo's eyes lit up, his grin wide, breaking the silence again.
"This is becoming something".He said
"Like one of those badass movie teams that saves the world. That thing lurking in the dark, we'll stop it, it won't know what hit him"
"And what's that?" Rowan asked, half-mocking, his voice strained.
"Us," Theo said, thrusting his fist forward. "It's gonna answer to us.
"Wait till it find us,first, then you'll know" Asher said mocking.
Exactly,The Found Four!" He grinned, placing his fist, forward waiting for them to join.
No one moved.
Theo glared. "Come on, don't leave me hanging."
"I do love what I'm seeing," Nico said, adding his fist.
"To the Found Four."
Asher sighed, smirking.
"This is a joke. To the Found Four, I guess."
Rowan hesitated, the shadow's "I'll wait" echoing.
"Asher, I expected better," he muttered.
"Just put the damn hand," Asher said, nudging him.
Rowan placed his fist, nonchalant. "To whatever this shit is."
"Nothing can stop us," Theo said, voice fierce. "We'll see it to the end as one, a team. We're gonna stop that thing, whatever's out there, No matter what."
The academy's lock-in bell rang, sharp and final, signaling curfew.
A breeze rustled, trees whispering, and then—a scream tore from the Academy walls, raw and unnatural, like rage itself.
The four froze, the sound piercing their bones, as if something was listening, watching.
Asher's voice dropped, eyes scanning the dark.
"Something's definitely out there."
Lira sat alone in the greenhouse, the night pressing against the glass.
Her hands brushed a bloodroot, its red sap staining her fingers, a grim echo of her vision—HE'S AWAKE, the fiery 16.7 burned into her mind.
Victor's sketches lingered, his bleeding heart with butterflies a mirror to her dread.
Darel's plan—her as bait—felt like a death sentence, yet his promise, "I'll protect you," clung to her.
The academy's scream still rang in her ears, raw and alive.
A shadow flickered outside, too quick to catch.
Her heart raced. "Who's there?" she whispered, gripping the bloodroot, its sap dripping like blood.