Jake felt more and more like a stranger in a world he didn’t understand, where everything seemed distorted. The Higher Ground schoolyard, which used to be a refuge of laughter and freedom during breaks, now felt like a scorching furnace, the heat of the sun and the chaos around him suffocating him like a trap. The concrete burned under his feet, reflecting a relentless light that forced his green eyes to squint in a constant effort to shield themselves from the intensity surrounding him. The familiar scent of the schoolyard now felt like a burden, a stifling perfume that blended with the heat and tension pulsing through his body.

He tugged at his white gym shirt, hoping to pull it away from his sweaty skin, but the movement only made the fabric cling even tighter, as if the universe itself were opposing his escape. The shirt, once pristine, was now stained with dust and a faint purple blood, an uncomfortable reminder of the horrors he had been forced to witness earlier that morning. His sweatpants, which should’ve been a relief, felt like an anchor, their darkened patches growing with every movement, as if they too carried the mark of something dark and inescapable. Jake fidgeted with his fingers, a nervous restlessness that seemed like a futile attempt to dissipate the tension trapping him, like an invisible net.

Beside him, Hyan was a study in calm and indifference, his posture relaxed as if nothing around him could shake him. He leaned back on the bench with an almost irritating serenity, his red eyes—burning rubies behind black-framed glasses—observing the world with analytical precision, as if he saw it in layers Jake could never hope to reach. They wore the same school uniform, but while Jake’s clothes were marked by the violence of the morning.

Jake kicked a basketball that rolled to his feet and watched it bounce across the concrete, its muffled sound drowned out by the cacophony around him. Some classmates glanced curiously at the bloodstains on his clothes, but he forced himself to ignore them, losing himself again in the restless movement of his fingers.

— This is all insane... — he muttered, his voice sounding more like a vent to himself than a statement directed at Hyan. But he knew his friend would always listen.

Hyan raised an eyebrow with a slight movement, adjusting his glasses with a calm that bordered on disdain. 

— Yeah, I know... But you can’t say it’s not real...

Jake lowered his gaze, fixing it on the stains on his pants. The dried purple blood was beginning to crack, forming abstract maps that mocked his inability to comprehend what had happened. The memories came rushing back, relentless: sharp teeth, blade-like claws, the terror that had completely consumed him. He tried to push them away, but the images were etched in his mind, insistent like ghosts.

— And you guys didn’t know anything until yesterday...? — he asked, confusion clearly stronger than indignation.

Hyan shrugged with a carefree lightness, letting out a sigh, as if the gravity of the situation were a burden he carried with unsettling ease.

— Exactly...

Jake bit his lip, trying to organize the thoughts swirling in his head. He kicked a pebble on the ground, watching it skip away until it disappeared under a bench further ahead. The weight of hesitation tightened his chest, and he couldn’t avoid the question that had been haunting him.

— So what are you guys gonna do now...?

Hyan glanced around with subtle caution, checking for eavesdroppers. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper, but laced with a firmness that made Jake hold his breath.

— To be honest, Jake... it seems like this has more to do with Tyler... He’s the one who’s gonna succeed our dad in this thing...

Tyler’s name cut through the air. Jake felt that strange sensation twisting in his stomach again, something uncomfortable he couldn’t quite understand.  He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before looking away, as if he could push that name, that weight, away.

Jake crouched down, pretending to adjust the laces of his already perfectly tied sneakers, trying to distract himself, to escape the conversation that threatened to tear his reality apart. But Tyler’s name echoed in his mind, insistently, like a distant drum. Why did it affect him so much? Amidst monsters, magic, and secrets, his own mind seemed determined to complicate things even further.

Hyan sighed beside him, but Jake didn’t have the courage to look at him. He felt like a tightly wound knot, every word from Hyan tightening it further, pushing him to the edge of an abyss he didn’t know how to name.

Around them, the schoolyard remained unchanged, hot and indifferent under the cloudless sky. Laughter, bouncing balls, music escaping from headphones... the world moved on in its own rhythm. But for Jake, this moment felt suspended in time, a suffocating pause where only the pressure of Hyan’s words and the unsettling presence of a name he didn’t know how to handle existed.

The weight of Hyan’s words reverberated in Jake’s mind, like a stone thrown into a calm lake. He was already lost in thought when he heard his name being called, Hyan’s voice lower, softer, but carrying a gravity that made his spine stiffen. It was the tone of someone who knew something uncomfortable was coming.

— Jake... — Hyan said, his voice low and calculated, as if each word would weigh on his friend like a clenched fist. He leaned forward slightly, a smooth but firm movement, as if making sure he had Jake’s full attention. Hyan’s red eyes, with the intensity of embers burning in the dark, pierced through the black-framed glasses and tore through the emotional defenses Jake had tried to build. That gaze, steady and relentless, seemed to strip Jake of his deepest layers, exposing the emotions he’d rather hide. — Can I ask you something…?

Jake straightened up, but the discomfort only grew. His red curls, like threads of fire, clung to his forehead, damp with sweat.

— Uh...? Sure, I guess... — Jake’s voice trembled, weak and faltering. He tried to hide how undone he felt inside, but his words, fragmented and unconvincing, gave him away. Every syllable seemed to carry a weight he wasn’t ready to bear. He knew he wasn’t prepared for what Hyan was about to say next.

Hyan, on the other hand, remained impassive, his expression flawlessly neutral, but his red eyes continued to burn with an unsettling intensity. With an almost imperceptible movement, he leaned even further forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlaced hands. The casual posture contrasted with the tension radiating from him, making his presence even more imposing, as if he were observing the world from above, and everyone around him were just pieces on a board he controlled with disconcerting ease.

— Do you like Tyler...? — Hyan asked, his words firing like an arrow with deadly precision. There was no doubt, no hesitation in his voice. It was a direct question, devoid of any ornamentation, and yet, it hit like a well-aimed blow.

The question struck Jake like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, trying to find words, trying to grasp something that could make sense of the whirlwind of emotions consuming him. But, as always, the words escaped him. The heat of the schoolyard seemed to intensify, making the air thick, suffocating, as if the weight of Hyan’s question was enough to alter the atmosphere around him. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, mixing with the burning shame on his face.

— Dude...! That’s just Amelia’s crazy talk...! — he said, the forced laugh cracking like glass about to shatter. The smile he tried to forge was a poorly constructed mask, and his eyes searched for an escape anywhere but Hyan. — Is she still spreading those fanfics around?

Hyan remained calm, as always, as if observing the storm of Jake’s emotions with disturbing serenity. He tilted his head slightly, letting his dark hair fall over his eyes, before grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip almost meditatively. With every movement, Hyan seemed to reflect, weighing the value of the conversation, as if every word were an investment of his patience. After a moment, he offered the bottle to Jake with a gesture that seemed almost disinterested.

— Nah, relax. It was just a dumb question... — he said, his tone unshakable, the same calm that seemed immune to the chaos unfolding around him.

Jake took the bottle with trembling hands but didn’t bring it to his lips. He felt frozen, trapped in a vacuum where time ceased to exist, where he couldn’t escape the heat of the schoolyard or the whirlwind of thoughts haunting him. The cold plastic of the bottle wasn’t enough to dissipate the suffocating heat surrounding him. The tension in the air, thick like fog, seemed to make reality even more oppressive.

— Hyan...? — Jake spoke, the hesitation in his voice becoming more evident with each word. He knew he shouldn’t open his mouth, knew the words about to come out could be a mistake, but they escaped anyway, as if they had a life of their own.

Hyan looked up with mild curiosity, but his expression was calm, devoid of haste or judgment.

— What?

Jake felt a tight knot in his throat, a sense of desperation that made breathing harder. He tried to muster courage from where there was none, but instead, the words came out low, almost whispered, as if he were talking to himself.

— Is it that obvious...? — he hated himself the moment the words left his mouth, wishing he could pull them back, but it was too late. Shame corroded his soul, and he knew, somehow, this issue wouldn’t be forgotten. He felt, more than ever, the weight of all his emotions, as if the truth were being exposed without mercy.

Hyan, on the other hand, looked away. It wasn’t the response Jake expected, but it also wasn’t one he could easily understand. Hyan seemed to absorb the weight of the question with a zen-like serenity, as if navigating a stormy sea with ease. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he replied, his tone as impersonal as ever, but with an unexpected touch of understanding.

— Relax. You keep our family secret, and I’ll keep yours...

The words fell on Jake like partial relief, but there was still a lingering sense of discomfort, like a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach. Before he could process what it meant, the silence of the schoolyard was shattered by a shout that reverberated through the space, interrupting any remaining calm.

— Holy shit! — Tyler’s familiar voice cut through the air like thunder, making everyone around immediately turn in his direction. The noise of the schoolyard, once filled with laughter and movement, momentarily silenced, as if the environment itself recognized the presence of a storm about to break.

Jake froze, his heart racing instantly. Tyler appeared in the corridor leading to the schoolyard, his imposing figure dominating the space. His white hair was disheveled, as if he’d been in a fight, and his red eyes, always intense, now burned with anger. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned, the fabric wrinkled, and his backpack, carelessly slung over one shoulder, swung with every firm step he took. Tyler’s presence was like a hurricane, and being in his orbit made everything harder to control, more unpredictable.

Jake felt his throat dry up, but it wasn’t from the heat. It was the sheer proximity of Tyler that made him feel small, insignificant. As if, at any moment, everything around him could collapse.

Tyler’s shout still echoed in his ears, a wave of sound that seemed to reverberate through his entire being, but he barely had time to process it when he heard Hyan’s voice, low and indifferent, as if wishing his presence could soften the palpable tension in the air, trying to extinguish the fire with a drop of water.

— I told you you forgot some book... — Hyan murmured, his voice dripping with silent disdain.

And then, there was Tyler. A volcano about to erupt, standing before them with fiery eyes and the threatening presence of a predator. His uniform shirt was completely wrinkled, and his backpack, tossed over one shoulder, seemed more like a weight he carried without care. His white hair was a mess, unruly from the wind and his own fury, almost falling over his blazing red eyes. There was something visceral in the way Tyler imposed himself, as if he were the center of everything, and the world revolved around him, no matter who stood in his way.

— Book my ass! — Tyler snapped. His jaw clenched, and his posture was a direct reflection of his rage. He didn’t see anyone around him, didn’t feel the heat or the curious glances starting to turn his way. The only being that existed at that moment, for Tyler, was Hyan, and the tension in the air grew denser by the second.

Jake couldn’t react. His words were stuck somewhere deep inside him, unable to find a way out. His mind was a whirlwind, confusion mixing with a growing sense of helplessness. But then, something happened. Tyler’s gaze shifted away from Jake, and for a brief moment, as if the weight of that stare had been lifted from his shoulders, Jake felt a momentary relief. But it didn’t last. A shadow formed behind Tyler, and Monica’s silhouette emerged, cutting through the air like a sharp blade, her presence as imposing as any warrior on a battlefield.

She walked with calculated grace, each step measured, as if the world were her stage and she the leading star. Her platinum hair moved softly with the wind, shining like silk, reflecting the scorching sun that fell on her skin. The smile she wore was that of someone who knew exactly the power she held over others, and her eyes, cold and penetrating, left no doubt about her dominance. She looked Jake up and down, unhurried, as if studying his fragility.

— What’s up, redhead... — Monica said, her voice light but laced with malice. Every word that left her lips felt like an arrow shot at Jake, who could barely breathe under the weight of her words. Her gaze made his chest tighten, and he felt the air condense around him, making everything even more unbearable.

He tried to react, but his voice failed him. The pressure increased with every second, and the feeling of suffocation overwhelmed him. Before he could respond, she turned to Hyan, throwing him a disdainful smile. There was something cruel in the way she assessed him, as if she were enjoying his discomfort.

— Rat Two... — Monica added, her voice full of contempt, before crossing her arms over her chest and observing the two of them, her posture relentless, the hunter waiting for her prey.

Jake felt the pressure in his chest increase again. The heat, the growing tension, the proximity of Tyler and Monica... it was all crushing him. He felt like he was trapped in a pressure cooker, about to explode at any moment. But still, he couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. He was trapped, helpless, in a game he didn’t understand, between figures he couldn’t control.