Elliott sat at his desk, staring up at the ceiling as the teacher droned on about the book. The student next to him sneezed; the sound barely registered.

Until a girl by the window screamed.

The whole class turned, even the teacher froze mid-sentence.

"What in the—Evelyn? Why are you—" the teacher stopped, eyes wide.

Outside the window, the blue sky was split by a jagged white claw of light. Human shapes fell through it, hitting the ground below. The girl screamed again as the figures began to rise.

"They're supposed to be dead! Why aren't they dead?!" another student yelled, leaping from their seat.

Elliott's blood ran cold. One of the humans stood there, skin an unnatural pale, half its face missing—yet it moved, alive.

By now, the entire class was on their feet.

"Mrs. Whitelock, look!" a boy shouted, pointing out the window.

Elliott's eyes followed the motion—and froze. Huge flying creatures were emerging from the sky tear... dragons. Massive, winged, and terrifying, spiraling out of the rift as if answering some unknown call.

The screams didn't stop. Students were pushing past each other, some knocking over chairs, others tripping over backpacks. Panic spread like wildfire.

"Everyone, everyone! Calm down!" Mrs. Whitelock shouted, her voice cracking but forcing itself over the chaos. She held her arms out, trying to herd the students toward the back of the classroom.

Elliott stayed frozen for a moment, eyes glued to the window. Below, more human-shaped forms were staggering upright, their movements jerky and unnatural. Blood and dirt stained their clothes. Some still had parts of their faces missing, eyes glassy and empty.

A loud crash sounded as one of the figures slammed into the schoolyard wall. The ground shook slightly with each of their steps. A group of students screamed and scrambled backward, some even climbing onto desks.

"Stay calm! Stay calm!" Mrs. Whitelock tried again, but the words felt hollow against the rising din of terrified cries. She motioned toward the exit. "We need to get to the gym—the doors are stronger! Move quickly but—"

Her sentence was cut short by the first attack.

One of the pale figures leapt forward, smashing through a side window. Glass shattered across the floor, and the creature lunged at a student who hadn't moved fast enough. The scream that followed made Elliott's stomach twist.

"Go! Everyone, move!" Mrs. Whitelock yelled, finally abandoning the attempt to calm the room. Students scrambled for the doors, tripping over each other as the hallway behind them echoed with the growls of the undead.

Elliott's mind went numb for a second, until a shadow passed across the classroom. A warm, massive presence pressed against him—Aurelian. The dragon's golden eyes locked with his, and a shiver ran down his spine. Somehow, he understood. He had to lead.

Elliott ran toward the door. Right in front of him, Maya's long red hair flew behind her like a comet streaking through the chaos.

Once in the hallway, Elliott skidded to a stop. His mind raced. He had read enough zombie books to know that big groups were dangerous.

"MAYA!" he yelled.

She froze, green eyes locking onto his hazel ones.

"What the...what are you doing?" she shouted. "Elliott, run!"

She grabbed his wrist, ready to sprint with everyone else. But Elliott yanked her the other way.

"Have you ever read a zombie book?" he asked, sprinting toward the stairs.

Maya huffed, glaring at him, but didn't resist. She followed, her feet pounding the floor in time with his.

The lab doors were heavy, but Elliott pushed them open, urging Maya to follow. The metal groaned loudly as they slipped inside, and for a heartbeat, silence fell.

They were safe—for now.

Maya leaned against a counter, panting, eyes wide. "I can't believe...that's actually happening. Zombies...falling from the sky..." She shook her head. "We could have all died out there."

Elliott ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving. He wasn't used to being in charge—or to anyone relying on him. But right now, everyone was looking to him. The responsibility pressed against his shoulders like a weight he hadn't asked for.

"Okay," he said, voice low but firm. "We're safe in here for a moment. We need to stay calm and think."

Maya, still trying to catch her breath, nodded. "Yeah...okay. But...we need weapons. Something. Anything." She scanned the counters, grabbing a couple of heavy metal rods and a fire extinguisher. "Better than nothing."

Elliott hesitated, biting his lip. "I...don't want to lead. I'm not a hero. But we can't stay quiet forever. We need a plan."

From the corner of the lab, a low, guttural growl cut through the tension. The smell hit them first—rotten, metallic, and unmistakable.

"Not now..." Maya muttered, gripping her makeshift weapon tighter.

The door rattled. A pale, half-faced figure smashed against the lab window, cracking the glass. Its hollow eyes locked onto them. Another followed, its hands clawing at the metal door.

Elliott swallowed hard, feeling the familiar ice of fear—but also clarity. "Stay back...stay calm." He grabbed a metal chair and positioned it between them and the zombies. "We fight smart. Don't panic. Hit it when it gets close, aim for the head."

Maya's eyes widened at his calm precision. "You...you really know what you're doing."

"I read the books," he muttered. "Now let's make it count."

The first figure lunged. Elliott swung the chair with all his strength, connecting with a sickening crack. The zombie faltered, then fell—but not before a second slammed into the door, shoving it in slightly.

Maya swung her rod, hitting it square in the chest. Both froze for a heartbeat, then the creatures went down. Silence returned...briefly.

Elliott looked at Maya—breathless, shaken, but alive. He straightened, shoulders stiff. "We...we made it. For now. But this? This isn't over."

Maya let out a shaky laugh, half in relief, half in disbelief. "We survived...first encounter, thanks to you."

Elliott didn't smile. He didn't want to. Being the leader wasn't something he chose. But as he watched the two of them catch their breath and gather weapons, he knew he couldn't run from it either.

Not now.

The heavy breathing had barely settled when footsteps echoed down the hallway. At first, Elliott tensed, unsure if it was another zombie, but the sounds were different—measured, human.

The lab door rattled, and three figures slipped inside, eyes wide with fear.

Johan, pale and anxious, leaned against the frame, clutching his sleeve like it might protect him. Rin followed silently, dark hair falling in front of sharp gray eyes, scanning the room as if calculating every possible threat. Last came Leo, taller than the others, sandy blond hair slightly disheveled, but his warm brown eyes gave off an unexpected calm.

Elliott froze for a second, green eyes meeting hazel. Maya shifted behind him, gripping her metal rod tighter, ready for whatever might come next.

For a heartbeat, the five of them just stared at each other. Different classes, different personalities—but they were united by one thing: survival.

Johan let out a shaky laugh, breaking the tension. "Well...guess we're all...trapped in the same nightmare, huh?"

Rin's gray eyes flicked between Elliott and Maya. "Looks like it. And judging by the state of this place...we need to work together if we want to survive."

Leo stepped forward, scanning the room for weapons, then offering a small smile to Elliott. "I'm Leo. We should stick together. Makes sense."

Elliott swallowed hard. He didn't feel like a leader. Not really. But looking at their faces—the fear, the resolve—he knew it didn't matter. Someone had to take charge. And for now...that someone was him.

He gestured toward the center of the lab. "Alright. Everyone, weapons, stay calm. We plan our next move. Stick close, and don't do anything stupid."

Maya rolled her eyes but nodded, still holding the fire extinguisher. Johan flinched slightly, gripping his metal rod. Rin adjusted his hood, silent but calculating. Leo's steady gaze never wavered.

Five teens. Different paths, same goal: survive.

The lab was silent for a moment—except for the distant groans from the hallways outside.

And somewhere beyond the walls, the undead waited.