The Spark of Defiance**

Eliot Thompson’s eye twitched as he stared at the blackboard, which was now less of a teaching tool and more of a smug jerk covered in squiggly math gibberish. The equations taunted him like they knew how badly he was failing. One particularly snarky integral even seemed to smirk.
“Ugh, this is garbage,” Eliot muttered, tossing his pencil down so hard it bounced off his desk and smacked his shoe. “Even *my* pencil is rebelling now.”
Behind him, snickers echoed like a Greek chorus of jerks.
"Hey Thompson!" a voice jeered from the back. It was Zack, resident math prodigy and full-time nuisance. "Tell your dad thanks for the cure to the plague—but maybe he could invent some brains for his kid next?"
Laughter erupted.
Eliot’s face burned, and not from embarrassment. Rage bubbled in his chest like a volcano wearing a bowtie. He gritted his teeth so hard he was pretty sure they’d qualify as diamonds soon.
His father, *Dr. Reginald Freaking Thompson*, was basically a Nobel Prize in human form. A genius. A legend. A man who once built a working fusion core in his garage “for fun.” And Eliot? He once fried his eyebrows off trying to microwave a burrito wrapped in tin foil.
The comparison wasn’t great.
But Eliot didn’t give up. No, sir. He studied until his eyes threatened to secede from his face. He worked harder than anyone else. If sheer stubbornness were a power source, he’d be the national grid.
And tonight? Tonight, he was going to change everything.
---
### **Boom. Science. Madness. Glory.**
In the dead of night, surrounded by energy drink cans and a suspiciously wobbly lab bench, Eliot stood in front of his homemade reactor. It was a chaotic mess of wires, blinking lights, and one extremely questionable hamster wheel.
"Okay, Eliot," he whispered, psyching himself up. “You're not just a discount version of your dad. You're the *deluxe edition.* With bonus features. Probably.”
He slammed the switch down.
The reactor roared to life with a sound that can only be described as "cosmic blender meets angry dragon." The room flashed white. Energy surged. A massive BOOM rocked the lab—
—and Eliot vanished.
---
### **Desert. Heat. Confusion. Possible Insanity.**
He landed face-first in sand.
"*Mmphf!*"
Spitting out a mouthful of what tasted like crushed tortilla chips, Eliot sat up. Around him stretched a vast, sun-scorched wasteland. Giant rusted towers jutted into the sky, and strange machines buzzed overhead like robotic hornets with somewhere to be.
A nearby man in leather armor sprinted past, yelling something about "kaiju lizards" and "shield batteries." Another person rolled by on a hoverboard, screaming, “I FORGOT HOW TO STOP!”
“What... the ACTUAL physics?” Eliot blinked, clutching his head. “Am I dead? Is this the afterlife? Because it sucks. It’s like Mad Max but hotter.”
Before he could panic further, a shadow loomed over him.
A tall figure stood there, grinning like a rogue in a video game. He wore a dusty leather jacket, had hair that looked like it lost a fight with a wind tunnel, and his left eyebrow twitched like it had seen things.
“You okay, kid?” the stranger asked, helping him up. “You look like someone just dropped you out of a wormhole.”
Eliot blinked. “I think someone *did.* Also, who puts sand *everywhere*?! It’s like the beach had an existential crisis!”
The man chuckled. “Name’s Jax. Welcome to the Desert of Araxys. Population: sweaty, angry, and under attack every other Tuesday.”
Eliot dusted himself off, only to realize he was now covered in glittering purple sand. “I have *so many* questions.”
“Too bad, no time!” Jax shouted.
An enormous explosion rocked the nearby ridge. The ground shook like it was trying to yeet them off the planet. Smoke rose in the distance, and a high-pitched roar echoed—like Godzilla’s hangry cousin just woke up.
Jax grabbed Eliot’s arm and yanked him forward. “Monsters! Giant biomechanical nightmares with teeth the size of surfboards. We gotta move!”
“I *just* got here!” Eliot cried, stumbling behind him. “Can’t we talk to them? Maybe they’re friendly!”
“They literally eat tanks for breakfast.”
“Cool cool cool... totally fine... no big deal... I wasn’t using my *sanity* anyway!”
And with that, Eliot sprinted into the chaos, half-terrified, half-excited, and 100% not ready for what was coming next.