The Price of Defiance

The classroom was a graveyard of sound after Sho kneed Jin’s face into next week. Jin was still sprawled on the floor, coughing up blood like a rejected action movie villain. His nose was a mess, dripping red onto the tiles, and I could practically feel the humiliation radiating off him. First, I saved his sorry ass from a Hollow. Then I danced around his punches like he was a toddler throwing a tantrum. And now? Sho—the scrawny, silent kid who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else—dropped him like a bad habit. Not a good day for Jin. Not even close.

I caught movement to my left. Shion. She was shaking where she stood, and for a second, I thought the violence had finally broken her. I almost reached out, ready to mumble some half-assed “It’ll be okay” lie, but then I looked closer. Her hand was over her mouth, her shoulders trembling—not from fear. She was laughing. Stifling it, sure, but those little snorts were unmistakable. Shion, the untouchable genius, was giggling at Jin’s misery like it was the punchline of the century.

I almost joined her.

Then the whiteboard lit up.

A blinding white glow flooded the room, sharp enough to burn my retinas. A dark silhouette flickered onto the board—a humanoid shape, shifting and unsteady, like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. The Chosen. Back for round two.

“How amusing,” it said, voice cold and mechanical at first, warming into something mockingly human. “You’re so quick to crumble when your fragile little world tilts. Some of you grasp the reality of your situation. Others cling to the rotting husk of your old lives. Pitiful.”

Reina, because of course it was Reina, shot to her feet, still caked in the ego she hadn’t shed. “What do you want from us, you all-knowing piece of shit?” she snapped, voice dripping with her usual venom. “My dad will know something’s wrong when I don’t come home. He’ll hunt you down, you and all your friends, and have you executed.”

I stared, jaw half-open. Was she serious? After getting yeeted across the room like a ragdoll, she was still waving her daddy’s name like a get-out-of-jail-free card? This girl was allergic to self-awareness.

The Chosen didn’t respond. Silence hung heavy, and for a moment, I thought Reina had actually won. Her smirk said she thought so too. “Yeah, I bet you’re scared now,” she pressed, stepping closer to the board. “I don’t know how you pulled that stunt earlier, but we’ll find out, and then we’re gonna—”

She didn’t finish.

Akari—the nerdy girl who probably had the periodic table tattooed on her soul—stepped toward Reina, eyes wide, like she was in a trance. The Chosen raised its hand, fingers curling into a fist, and then—

Pop.

Akari burst. Like a water balloon stuffed with blood, guts, and gore. Her body exploded in a wet, red spray, painting the room in carnage. Reina and her posse—Kenta, Jin, Mei—took the worst of it, drenched in crimson. A chunk of something—Akari’s brain, maybe, with an eye still attached—landed near my foot. The eye blinked. I swear to God, it blinked.

Shion screamed beside me, a raw, feral sound that shredded the air. Riku turned and puked, his lunch splattering across the floor. The classroom erupted into chaos—screams, sobs, people scrambling like roaches when the lights come on. I looked at the board, and even though it was just a silhouette, I could’ve sworn it smiled.

“Silence,” the Chosen boomed, voice like a thunderclap.

The noise died instantly. Reina, still frozen, covered in Akari’s remains, hadn’t moved. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, like her brain had short-circuited.

Then the Chosen raised its hand again.

Reina lifted off the floor, levitating, her body jerking upward like a puppet on strings. She snapped out of her shock, shrieking, “Kenta! Jin! Kasumi! Someone help me!” Her voice cracked, desperate, as she flailed midair. Her eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, they softened. Pleading. “Mikaela, please help me.”

My foot twitched, instinct kicking in. I took half a step forward—

“If you move,” the Chosen said, its voice slicing through my skull, “I will boil her alive. Melt her skin off while you and your classmates watch her cook from the inside.”

My foot slammed back down. That wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. I felt it in my gut, my heart, my soul—like the universe itself was warning me. Reina reached the board, sobbing, blubbering, begging not to die.

“Cease your whining, insect,” the Chosen said. “I don’t plan to kill you. You’re a variable I wish to observe. But heed this: I don’t need you. I can end you right now, painfully, if I choose. Watch yourself in my presence, or that day will be your last.”

Reina dropped, collapsing into a heap of tears, shame, and probably piss. The room was silent, save for her muffled sobs.

The Chosen continued, unfazed. “As your classmate said, you all have gifts. I grow tired of waiting for you to discover them.” It snapped its fingers.

A flood of information slammed into my brain like a freight train. Shadow Manipulation. Solid. Liquid. Objects. Shadows bending, twisting, becoming weapons, shields, cloaks. My head spun, too much at once. I stumbled back, catching myself on a desk.

“There,” the Chosen said. “Now you know your Specs. Use them to survive, fight, or cower—it’s your choice.” I glanced around. Everyone looked dazed, gripping their heads, eyes wide. They’d gotten the same mental download, each about their own abilities.

“Your objective remains,” it said. “Survive one year or kill every Hollow in this facility. Freedom is in your hands.” Its tone dripped with mockery, like it knew we were screwed.

Another snap.

“Hoshino,” it added, “don’t fret. Food and resources are scattered throughout the building to sustain you. Now, let the hunt begin.”

Its arms stretched wide, like a showman awaiting applause for some sick masterpiece. Then the classroom doors exploded open, crashing through the windows with a deafening shatter. I stared at the doorway, heart pounding, waiting. A screech—guttural, inhuman—echoed from the hall. Scores of Hollows filled the frame, clawing, hissing, held back by some invisible barrier.

“Good luck,” the Chosen said.

The barrier vanished. The figure faded. The light died.

And the horde swarmed in.