When The Sky Goes Dark

The walk to the vending machine was long.

Not physically—I’ve made the trip a thousand times—but it felt longer this time. Maybe because I was dragging my dignity behind me in a sack along with my backpack. Maybe because every step felt like another reminder that my life was one big, humiliating side quest for people I wouldn’t even pick as background NPCs.

I passed other classes. Some full, some dark and empty. Walked by the student council room. Glimpsed a couple teachers. Saw students I recognized and a few I didn’t. Why was this school so damn huge? Half these rooms didn’t even get used. Probably still got funded though, courtesy of Reina’s dad and whatever shady money train he rides.

When I finally reached the vending machine, I cleaned it out. Granola bars, sodas, those weird juices that taste like liquified fruit-shaped lies. I stuffed them all into my backpack until it was one busted zipper away from exploding.

The trip back started off quiet.

Too quiet.

I told myself it was just the calm before the next period. Maybe class had already started. Maybe I was late.

Great. Not only had I become the class butler, I hadn’t even eaten. Fucking Jin.

Why does he hate me? I genuinely don’t get it. I didn’t do anything to him. That insecure, rage-addicted, mother-worshipping dickhead has more issues than a library and somehow decided I was the best outlet. He probably needs therapy. A lot of it. Like lock-him-in-a-room-with-a-shrink-and-a-priest kind of therapy.

I picked up my pace.

Didn’t want to get chewed out and show up late with their overpriced snacks.

And that’s when it happened.

Boom.

Blackout.

Like, real blackout.

First I thought it was just the hallway lights—happens sometimes, right? But then I noticed the windows. There wasn’t just no light—there was nothing. Not a shred. Not even the faint glow of overcast skies. Just black. Thick, suffocating black.

It was like someone yanked the sun out of the sky and forgot to leave a nightlight behind.

I blinked. No change.

I waved my hand in front of my face. Nothing.

At some point, I actually wondered if I had died. Maybe a nuke dropped. Maybe I slipped into a coma. Maybe this was some kind of divine prank. Maybe the sun exploded.

But no. The crushing weight of my vending machine loot told me otherwise. You don’t feel twenty pounds of snacks on your spine if you’re dead.

And besides, if the sun exploded, we’d all have been flash-fried in under a second. Vaporized. Poof. So that ruled that out.

Okay. So I was alive. Blind—but alive.

I took deep, careful breaths and forced myself to calm down. I knew this school. I knew it. I could walk it blindfolded. And right now, it seemed like I’d have to.

I moved forward, hand trailing the wall. Left. Right. Up the stairs. Another left. Two rights.

Then I was there.

Classroom door.

Except… light.

A thin white glow leaked out from the edges, under the door, around the frame—sharp and unnatural, like something holy trying to claw its way out.

It wasn’t electric light.
Wasn’t sunlight either.
It was too white. Too pure. Almost sterile.

I hesitated.

Then, quickly, I grabbed the handle and threw the door open.

And what I saw short-circuited my brain.

My classmates.

Floating.

Not flying. Not zooming around like Marvel extras. Just… suspended. Levitating. Limbs dangling, hair drifting like they were underwater, eyes wide with panic.

And then I started floating too.

The second I stepped in, gravity just… let go.

Voices erupted around me—screams, curses, cries for help. But no one could move. The light—that blinding, blinding light—was everywhere. Not coming from the ceiling. Not from bulbs. Not from outside. It was like the classroom itself had become the light.

I tried to push toward my desk, maybe anchor myself to something. That’s when I felt it.

A hand.

Clutching my leg.

Tight.

Human.

I spun midair, heart crashing against my ribs, but just before I could see what had grabbed me—

The door slammed shut.

And all at once, we dropped.

The light vanished.

Gravity returned like a punch to the gut. People hit the floor with ugly thuds and gasps. I landed on my side and immediately scrambled upright, eyes darting back to the door.

Closed.

I didn’t remember shutting it.

And right there—right at the edge of the doorframe—was a streak of black.

Liquid.

Thick. Oozing. Crawling along the tile like spilled ink.

I didn’t move.

Somewhere across the room, someone—Riku, maybe—broke the silence.

“What the actual fuck was that?!”

Then came the noise.

Panic. Yelling. Screaming.

But I didn’t join them.

I kept staring at the black smear by the door.

Because whatever had grabbed me…

Had left something behind.

The whole class was losing their goddamn minds.
Someone was screaming in the corner.
Another was yelling questions no one had answers to.
Most were just screeching—because that’s what panic looks like when it has nowhere to go.
Probably Reina leading the noise brigade, let’s be honest.

I made my way over to my desk, weaving through the chaos, my brain still short-circuiting from whatever the hell had just grabbed my ankle. It felt like a hand—no, it was a hand—but there was something deeply off about it. The grip was strong but... loose? Like it held me, but not really. Like it wanted me to know I was being held without actually holding me. I don’t know how else to explain it.

The class was still a hurricane of noise and confusion.

I glanced toward the front, where Ms. Hoshino was on her phone, clearly on the verge of drop-kicking it across the room. She’d lift it to her ear, frown, pull it away, mash a few buttons, try again, scowl harder. Rinse and repeat. Probably trying to call the principal. Or God. Or whoever was supposed to handle supernatural breakdowns in the middle of school hours.

The quieter students had huddled together. The theorists. Probably whispering conspiracy crap or half-baked cult movie plots trying to make sense of the floating light show we’d just survived.

My eyes kept wandering. Couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t think straight.

That’s when I saw her—Aya.
The loud, flirty, artistic tornado of a girl… looked terrified.
Her usual confidence—the swagger, the teasing smirks—all of it had been vaporized. She sat frozen, eyes wide, arms wrapped around herself like a lifeline.
And somehow… that made it real.

Even the predators were scared.

Kenta, Jin, and Reina stood together near the door, arguing. Big surprise. Probably debating whether to break down the building or sue the oxygen for existing. I didn’t care enough to listen.

I just dropped my head onto my desk.

Tried to make sense of anything. Everything.

But after a few seconds, I felt a soft tap on my arm. I looked up, still dazed, and found myself face to face with Shion.

She looked worried. Like, genuinely worried. That alone was a mindfuck.

I straightened up and gave her a silent “What’s up?” expression. She opened her mouth to say something—
But then it happened.

White light.
From the whiteboard.

And I don’t mean someone turned on a projector or clicked a button. I mean the whiteboard itself lit up. Like it had been turned into a screen from the fifth dimension.

Toru mumbled, “What the fuck is going on with the whiteboard,” right before a figure appeared.

Calling it “human” would be generous.

It looked human, sure—but it didn’t stay that way. Its shape kept shifting, morphing from one silhouette to the next. Man. Woman. Child. Thin. Muscular. Elderly. Young. My eyes couldn’t settle on any one form long enough before it changed again. My brain couldn’t process it.

It was like staring into an identity crisis with a voice.

“What the actual fuck,” I muttered.

Then it spoke.

The voice started cold.
Mechanical.
Detached.

Then slowly—unnervingly—it started to warm. Like it was mimicking human tone the more it talked.

“Greetings, Class 3C,” it said. “Is this language acceptable? I will continue regardless.”

No one dared answer. It didn’t seem to care.

“I am… the Chosen. That is not my name, but it is an acceptable designation. Your class has been selected for the Asian branch of Human Testing.”

And then the silence snapped.

Everyone started shouting, panicking again—but louder this time.

Trapped.
Testing.
Trials.
One year.

Those were the words that stuck.

One year?

Even I flinched at that.

But it didn’t stop talking.

“You will survive the coming trials. You are sealed within this facility. You will not be retrieved. This is not a rescue. This is observation.”

I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass out or throw up.

Reina marched up to the board like she was about to arrest it. She started screaming. All the usual hits. Calling it bullshit. Threatening lawsuits. Threatening the screen. Telling it she’d “have their job.” Then, like clockwork:

“Do you know who my father is?!”

God, she really thought that line could stop an alien light-being from another plane of existence.

While she ranted, Kenta, Jin, and a few others were tugging at the classroom door, trying to wrench it open. No luck. I stood to get a better look, but before I could move—

Shion stopped me.

She gently grabbed my wrist and shook her head, worry plastered across her usually unreadable face.

“What?” I asked, quiet.

“She’s in danger,” Shion whispered. “Reina. I saw it.”

I blinked. “Saw what?”

“If you don’t move to the lockers now, she might die.”

Okay, that was… cryptic.

But something in her voice—something about the way her eyes didn’t blink—I didn’t argue.

I slipped to the back of the class, standing just behind the final row of desks, positioned awkwardly near the lockers.

I turned to look at her and shrugged, raising my hands like Now what?

And that’s when it happened.

Reina came flying.

Launched like a goddamn missile across the room.

I barely had time to process it. One second she was yelling. The next, she was a blur of hair and attitude, and she slammed into me with the force of a car crash.

We hit the lockers. Hard.

The metal dented with a deafening crunch.
Reina groaned and rolled off me, crumpling to the floor.
I felt something cold trail down the back of my head.
Blood?
Maybe.

My vision started flashing—white, black, then white again.

Everything became muddy.

Did I hit my head?

What the hell was that?

Why did Reina fly across the room like a ragdoll?

And more importantly…

How did Shion know?

I collapsed sideways.
Voices swirled around me.
Footsteps thudded.
Someone called my name—Riku, I think.

But by the time he reached me, I was already slipping into unconsciousness.

When I came to, I was still on the floor—barely conscious, but the world was beginning to sharpen again, like a TV finally regaining signal. I sat up, and a jolt of pain shot from the back of my skull straight down to my tailbone like a bolt of lightning through my spine. Everything ached. Everything felt like it had been rattled loose and then stapled back into place by force.

I was tucked into a corner of the classroom with Shion and Riku nearby. Reina, on the other hand, was on the far side of the room, surrounded by a few of her sycophants. She hadn’t woken up yet.

Riku reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Yo... that was badass, man,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “Didn’t know you had it in you. How’d you know Reina was gonna get launched like that?”

I blinked at him—half dazed from the hit, half confused why he of all people was talking to me like we were still friends or something. I shrugged off his hand and mumbled, “I didn’t. Shion told me to stand there.”

I turned toward her. “How did you even know that was gonna happen?”

She gave a hesitant shake of her head, then spoke—quietly, but clearly. “I’ll explain.”

Apparently, after I passed out, things didn’t stop. They just got weirder.

According to her, the figure on the whiteboard had grown visibly irritated by Reina’s constant screeching. So much so that it raised its hand—casually, almost like a wave—and released some kind of invisible shockwave that blasted across the classroom. That was what sent Reina flying like a ragdoll through desks and chairs... straight into me.

Right after that, while we were both unconscious, the thing on the board gave the full explanation.

They were a higher-level civilization. Something beyond human comprehension.
And they’d chosen to “observe” Class 3C under what they called controlled stress conditions. We were their test group. Their experiment.

Apparently, we’d been selected specifically.

I didn’t say a word. Neither did Riku.
We just sat there and listened as Shion kept going, like she had memorized every word.

The school—our school—was now completely flooded with something the being referred to as Hollows. What they were, it refused to elaborate. It just said that they were dangerous and that they were here. All over.

And us?
We were trapped.

The doors wouldn’t open.
Time wouldn’t pass properly.
No one was coming.

Our only two options:
Survive for one year.
Or kill every Hollow in the school.

Oh—and before it vanished, the thing left us with a parting gift. Something to “even the odds” and “make things more interesting.”

I sat there, speechless. Brain fried. Muscles aching. The words hung over me like fog.

Aliens.
Supernatural lockdown.
One year of survival.
Hollows.
Surprise gifts.

Out of all the humans on Earth, the universe thought we were the best lab rats?

I guess I must’ve been muttering to myself, because Shion turned to me and said, “I think I know what the surprise is.”

I glanced at her, brows raised. “You mean that thing? The gift or whatever?”

She nodded slowly.

I squinted. “Does that have anything to do with how you knew Reina was gonna get yeeted into me at Mach five?”

Another nod.

Riku gave a stunned laugh. “Wait—hold up. What, are you psychic or something now?”

I shot him a glare, and he immediately swallowed his laugh.

“Keep going,” I told her. “Explain.”

She took a slow breath and began.
“When it happened… I saw it. Like a projection layered over reality. It was like watching a hologram, except it was superimposed on top of everything around me. I saw Reina flying across the room before it happened. I saw her slam into the lockers, head bleeding, not moving after.”

I stared at her. I didn’t mean to, but whatever was on my face must’ve looked like doubt, because she quickly added, “I know it sounds insane. You don’t have to believe me.”

But I didn’t call her crazy.

No.
After everything that had happened?
After a floating classroom, a talking whiteboard alien, and Reina being launched like a projectile?

I’d believe anything at this point.

So I said, “Alright. Let’s test it.”

She tilted her head.

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

She caught on immediately and gave a small smirk. “Okay.”

We played.

And I got annihilated.

Ten straight rounds.
No ties.
No lucky guesses.
Just absolute defeat.

It was like she was reading my mind, like she knew what I was going to throw before I even knew it.

Riku stared, eyes wide. “Yo, this is… actually crazy.”

He looked between us, then asked what we were both already thinking.

“You think everyone’s got something like this?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Probably not the same as Shion’s though.”

My eyes drifted across the room.

Toward Reina—still unconscious.
People hovered around her, whispering, watching, waiting.

I felt a small flicker of something. Guilt, maybe. Or fear. I didn’t know. But I watched her chest rise and fall—slowly, weakly.

She was still alive.

Just barely.

That’s when Ms. Hoshino stepped to the front of the class, her voice slicing cleanly through the anxious murmurs.

“Everyone,” she called, “I need your attention.”

Here we go.

Ms. Hoshino stood at the front of the room, calm but commanding. Her voice didn’t rise above normal, but something in her tone sliced through the chaos like a scalpel.

“Let’s acknowledge what we’ve seen so far,” she said. “The floating. The blackout. The figure on the board. Whatever action we take next—it has to be a collective one. And we proceed with caution.”

Cue Kenta—bless his pea-sized patience—exploding out of his chair like he’d been lit on fire.

“You’re actually buying that bullshit?” he shouted, eyes wide. “That thing on the whiteboard? It’s obviously some sicko who hacked the school’s system or something!”

He kept going. “I’m honestly shocked—shocked—that a full-grown adult like you is falling for this.”

My jaw fell open a little. Was this guy serious? After everything we’d just seen?

Apparently, Ms. Hoshino had the same thought, because she deadpanned:

“Kenta, I didn’t expect anything particularly credible to come out of your mouth, but that—that—was beyond even my lowest expectations.”

A few people laughed under their breath.

She continued, totally unfazed. “Your girlfriend was launched across the room by an entity that casually used our whiteboard as a visual medium—and you think it’s a prank? Really?”

God, I think my mouth dropped even lower. I couldn’t help the slight smirk curling on my lips. I had to give it to her—Ms. Hoshino just cooked him alive.

But before anyone could recover, Jin took the baton and sprinted straight into stupid.

“Okay, yeah, real funny,” he said, voice rising. “Meanwhile, Reina—the girl you just called a projectile—is still unconscious. She could be dying while we stand here debating sci-fi logic. We need to get her medical attention. Now.”

I mean… he wasn’t wrong, per se.

But then Hoshino hit him back with a verbal roundhouse:

“And how do you suggest we do that, Jin?” she asked, not even looking at him yet. “In case it slipped your mind, we are trapped. In a school now inhabited by beings referred to as Hollows. We don’t know where they are. We don’t know what they are. And we sure as hell don’t know what they’ll do to us.”

She turned and gestured toward me.

“Also… Reina didn’t even take the full brunt of that impact. She slammed into Mikaela, who hit the lockers, busted his head open, and still woke up first.”

Her eyes cut back across the room, glinting with dry venom.
“For all I know, Reina might be faking just to be the center of attention—again.”

Everyone turned.

Eyes shifted toward Reina’s “unconscious” body. I squinted. Sure enough… her breathing hitched.

A low chuckle escaped Shion beside me. I didn’t blame her.

Hoshino just played this entire argument like a damn fiddle.

Jin and Kenta were left standing there, mouths half open, looking like children who just got scolded in front of the whole class.

And of course—of course—they handled their humiliation with the grace of a toddler.

Kenta hoisted Reina onto his back. Jin stormed toward the door.

“Fuck you, teach,” Kenta spat. “I’m not staying in here with a bunch of retards who believe in smoke and mirrors. We’re out.”

The moment his hand reached for the doorknob, every hair on my body stood on end.

Something primal twisted in my gut. I didn’t think. I moved.

I shot up from my seat, chair screeching across the floor, and ran toward them, yelling—

“Don’t open that door!”

Jin turned on me, eyes narrowed, face twisted in contempt.
“What the fuck did you just say, mailboy?” he growled.

The whole class fell silent again.

But I didn’t back down.
Not this time.

I was terrified—absolutely—but not of him. Not anymore.
This wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about the hierarchy.

It was about that door.

Something told me—no, screamed at me—that if Jin opened that door, something horrible was going to happen. We wouldn’t just regret it.

We wouldn’t survive it.

He looked like he was ready to charge me, jaw clenched, fists twitching.
But Kenta held him back.

“Forget him,” Kenta muttered. “Let’s just go.”

I looked over at Shion—her expression said everything.

Fear. Raw, real, animal fear.

I didn’t need confirmation. That look told me everything I needed to know.

So, just as Jin grabbed the handle and began to slide the door open—

I reached for the nearest chair and got ready to swing.
Because whatever Shion saw in her vision?

It was coming.

And it wasn't human.