Slaughter in The Cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a warzone the second we stepped through its shattered glass doors. Screams pierced the air, furniture splintered, and bodies slammed into walls. Tables were flipped, trays scattered, the once-polished marble floor slick with blood and black gore. Hollows lunged, claws slashing, while my classmates fought from a shaky perimeter, like they’d only just gotten here. Ms. Hoshino stood at the center, wielding a long metal ruler like it was a sword, staff, or spear—her style shifted so fluidly, every swing drew blood or snapped bone. She moved like a predator, elegant and deadly.

“Whoa, look at Ms. Hoshino go,” Sho said, awestruck. “She’s swinging that shit like she was born with it.”

“Think it’s her Spec?” Yui asked, her voice tight, eyes wide.

I shuddered, my head still throbbing from overusing my shadows. “Nah, I think she’s just built that way.” The idea of her Spec being that lethal was worse than any Spec.

“Should we help?” Riku asked, shifting nervously.

“It’s a big fight,” Shion said, her voice cautious, still groggy from her Spec’s drain. “I’m not sure we wanna get caught up.”

She had a point, but the cafeteria’s food was our only shot at survival. As I wrestled with the choice, Reina—glowing like a human light bulb, her Spec casting beams across the chaos—snapped her head toward me so fast I thought she’d break her neck. Her eyes locked on mine, and it wasn’t the weak, pleading Reina from class. This was the old Reina—rage, disgust, annoyance, all cranked to ten. I smirked. There’s the Reina I know.

She dropped her Spec, the glow fading. Kenta, guarding her, noticed. “Reina, what are you doing? You need to slow them—” He stopped, seeing me. His fists balled, face twisting in fury.

My smirk widened, pissing them off more. Their anger fed my grin. “Hey, Aya, draw me an rifle,” I said, not breaking eye contact as they stormed over.

Aya’s pencil scratched furiously on her sketchpad, the sound sharp over the screams. I scanned the cafeteria, clocking Specs: Sora’s mist blinded Hollows, Toru’s lightning crackled through the air, Sena teleported with flickering afterimages, Haruka’s shields flared, Yuki bashed with ice weapons, Kasumi’s clones wielded blades, and some kids hung back, their Specs useless in a fight.

“Done,” Aya said. A rifle that looks like an AR-15 dropped into my hands, lighter than expected, with an optic attached. “Nice,” I said, raising it to my eye. Reina and Kenta froze, fear and hesitation flashing across their faces—priceless.

“Whoa, Mikaela, what are you doing?” Riku asked, stepping forward.

“Making an entrance,” I said, squeezing the trigger. The shot zipped past Reina and Kenta, nailing a Hollow that broke through their perimeter, black gore spraying as it dropped.

They checked themselves, then saw the dead Hollow. Reina whipped around, face flushed with rage. “You son of a bitch! How dare you shoot at me! You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” I said, dropping the rifle.

She growled—like, actually growled—before storming back to her group. I blinked. Reina, helping others? That didn’t track. I glanced at Ms. Hoshino, dispatching Hollows with lethal grace. That’ll do it.

I turned to Mei. “Now’s a good time to spill your Spec, Tanaka.”

She shifted, uncomfortable. “It’s Flash Flare. I cast a blinding light, like a flashbang, for five seconds in a five-meter radius.”

I nodded, mind made up. “Aya, Riku, Mei, stay back. Protect Aya while she draws weapons. Sho, Shion, and I will hit the front with the class.”

“Why join them?” Riku asked. “We could escape, get far from this.”

“Cafeteria’s the only food source,” I said. “I’d rather fight than starve.”

He got it. I faced the chaos. “Mei, you asked about my Spec, right?” Shadows stirred under my feet, forming something solid. “It’s not complex.” A sword took shape, black as night, with a handle and guard. “It’s Shadow Manipulation. Bends shadows to my will.” I yanked the blade free, its weight grounding me despite the ache in my head.

Their gazes held awe, but I didn’t look. “Aya, weapons for these two,” I said, pointing at Sho and Shion.

Her pencil scribbled. Pistols dropped into their hands. “I like the gun, but I’m not accurate enough,” Sho said. “Can I get a dagger?”

Aya rolled her eyes, scribbling. Sho’s pistol glowed white, morphing into curved, wicked daggers. He grinned. “Yeah, this fits my Spec.”

Shion rocked dual pistols, looking ready. “Aya, Riku, Mei, find a spot where Hollows can’t flank you,” I said. They nodded, moving back.

I faced chaos, sword in hand, and ran.

The cafeteria stank of iron and decay, the air thick with the acrid burn of black sludge splattered across the tiled floor. Flickering fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting jagged shadows that danced with the Hollows’ jerky movements. My hands gripped the sword of shadow, its inky form swirling like liquid night. The sword of shadow in my hand felt light. Too light. Almost like it won’t do any damage, but when I swung the blade diagonally on a Hollow in front of me, the blade went right through it without any resistance. The creature let out a guttural screech, its eyeless face splitting as it collapsed into a puddle of tar-like ooze. I looked closely at the Hollow and noticed it wasn’t wearing a school uniform. That means not all of the Hollows in the school are students. Now that I think about it, the Chosen gave us a year to kill every Hollow in the building. That seemed like too much for the amount of students if we were just fighting student-turned-Hollows, so he must have spawned more to keep us busy. Relief fills me as I know now that I don’t have to be killing actual people. My chest lightened, the weight of guilt lifting like fog in the morning sun.

When I look back up, a Hollow is tearing the air with its claws, trying to get to me. Its jagged talons glinted under the flickering lights, inches from my face. I’m a little taken aback, heart hammering, but before I can react, its head explodes into black sludge, spraying across my cheek. The stench hit me like a punch—rotten and metallic. I look back and see Yui run up beside me, her rifle still smoking, her tomboyish grin breaking through her polished facade. “You can’t space out in a place like this, Mikaela,” she said, her voice teasing but edged with worry. Her hair was matted with sweat, her eyes bright with the rush of her Adrenaline Surge.

I smile and point at the Hollow I killed and the one she killed, their bodies dissolving into the floor. “Not all the Hollows we kill are students,” I said, wiping sludge off my face. I see her face fill with relief, like a great burden has been lifted from her shoulders, her eyes softening as the guilt of the uniform twist eased. “Well, it doesn’t matter either way because we still have to kill them,” Yui said, trying to hide her relief, but it’s pointless as it’s too evident on her face, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Yeah, I guess so,” I say back, giving her a nod, my own relief mirrored in her expression.

A blur of motion caught my eye—Shion runs by us with a pistol in her hand, her movements precise, almost mechanical. What she does next actually makes my mouth drop open. She skids to a stop, boots screeching on the slick floor, and takes a shooting stance, her Predictive Sight locking onto targets. She fires five shots in quick succession, moving her hand after each shot with surgical precision. The heads of five Hollows in front of her explode, black sludge erupting like geysers as they collapse into heaps. “God damn,” Yui muttered, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. I nod in agreement, my jaw still slack. Shion turns around to look at us, her dark eyes unreadable, and raises her shoulders, asking, “What?” Her tone was flat, like she hadn’t just pulled off a sharpshooter stunt straight out of an action flick.

I shake my head like it’s nothing and form another sword, the shadows coiling around my hand like smoke. Charging back into the crowd of Hollows, I hack away at a bunch of them for a while, each swing slicing through their forms with eerie ease. All the stress from my shitty life leaves me—my awful life at home, my terrible mother, my awful life at school, everything. I slice and hack the stress away, the blade humming with dark energy. I do it so much that I don’t notice that I’m covered in the black blood of the Hollows, my uniform soaked, the stench clinging to me like a second skin. I take a breather, standing over corpses, my chest heaving, the cafeteria a graveyard of sludge and shattered tables.

Sho stops beside me, his corporate poise unshaken despite the chaos. “You good? You kinda went crazy right then. You can take a break if you want. I’ll cover you,” he said, his voice steady but laced with concern. His broad frame loomed, a dagger from Aya glinting in his hand. I shake my head, catching my breath. “Nah, I’m fine. I just had to get all the stress of my life out of my system,” I reply, wiping sweat and sludge from my brow. Sho chuckles, a low rumble. “That had to be an astronomical amount of stress, but I hope you feel better now.” He jerks his right hand up and stabs a Hollow in the jaw, yanking the blade out with a wet squelch as it crumpled. The move was so casual, it almost felt rehearsed.

I let out a breath and look around, seeing Ms. Hoshino still handling Hollows efficiently, her ruler—now a gleaming spear—cutting through enemies like a hot knife through butter. “I think I’m gonna go talk to teach for a minute,” I say to Sho before jogging toward our classroom teacher, dodging a stray Hollow claw. The cafeteria’s chaos swirled around her, but she moved like a storm’s eye—calm, deadly. When I approach her, she turns suddenly and nearly hits me with the thing she’s using as a weapon. It looks like a ruler that was sharpened to become a spear with a handle and everything, its edge glinting under the flickering lights. I duck out of her swing just in time to not get my neck slashed open, my heart lurching. “Oh, Mikaela, it’s you. Sorry about that, I thought you were a Hollow,” Ms. Hoshino said, her voice calm but apologetic, her eyes scanning me for injuries.

I wave my hand in dismissal, adrenaline still buzzing. “It’s fine. So, where did you get that wicked-looking ruler?” I asked, eyeing the weapon. She raises it, twirling it effortlessly. “Oh, it’s just my Spec, Ruler’s Edge. It allows me to turn anything I want into a weapon,” Ms. Hoshino said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She must have really loved that ruler for it to turn into that. The thought makes me crack a smile, the absurdity cutting through the horror. “What’s up?” she asked, tilting her head.

I shake my head to tell her it’s nothing. “I noticed that everyone’s Spec tied to them in some way, but uhhh,” I point at her weapon again, “how does that tie to you?” I finish, curious. She smiles, her eyes flickering with something distant. “There you go, putting things together again. I hadn’t even noticed that, but now that you mention it, I do see the similarities,” Ms. Hoshino said, her voice softening. I wait for her as she looks around the cafeteria, the flickering lights casting her face in sharp relief. We started fighting a few minutes ago, and since then, the number of Hollows has drastically reduced—just a handful are left, including the big one at the centre, its massive form looming like a statue of death.

She senses I’m still waiting for her to finish and sighs. “I used to be in the military, but after an injury, I got placed as an instructor for new recruits,” Ms. Hoshino said, her tone heavy with memory. I nod, pieces clicking. “That explains it. Being a military soldier technically allows you to be able to make anything you hold a weapon, Spec or not,” I say, impressed. She lets out a dry chuckle, almost bitter. “Yeah, I have skills, but all that, and I couldn’t save—” Ms. Hoshino started, her voice catching, eyes distant with guilt.

She stops short when we hear Reina screaming at us, her voice cutting through the cafeteria’s din like a blade. “Hey, teach, what are you doing? The rest of us are working our asses off, and you’re there flirting with a student? How ‘bout you do your job and protect me—US, protect US!” Reina snapped, her tone dripping with venom, her arms crossed. We stare at her, not really surprised anymore, but I could’ve sworn she was about to say “protect me.” Wow, selfish till the end. Her platinum hair gleamed under the lights, her clique—Kenta and Jin—flanking her like bodyguards, their glares fixed on me.

Ms. Hoshino sighs, her patience fraying, and walks over to Reina, waving a hand at me. “I’ll talk to you later, Mikaela,” she said, her tone clipped but professional. I nod at her before looking back at the big one in the middle of the cafeteria, its hulking form unmoving, eyes like black voids watching us. “How the hell are we gonna take you on?” I mutter to myself, dread coiling in my gut.

Shion, Sho, and Yui walk up to me, their faces streaked with sweat and sludge. “That’s a good question, because that is one big son of a bitch,” Sho said, his voice low, eyeing the gorilla-Hollow. Its fur was matted with blood, its arms like tree trunks. “I say we can take it. I mean, there’s like 15 of us. If we all charge it, we should be able to take it down,” Yui said, her voice bold but her hands trembling from her last Adrenaline Surge crash.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work. One swipe of its massive arms, and we’re all dead,” Shion said, her tone dry, adjusting her glasses. Her Predictive Sight flickered in her eyes, scanning the beast. That comment makes me smile, but something was itching at me. Why was it just sitting there, watching us whittle down its army little by little? Reina’s voice cut through again, sharp and grating. “Why do we even have to fight that thing? Ever since we got in here, it hasn’t moved an inch. I doubt it can even move. Maybe it’s just fucking with you all, and it’s just a scare,” she said, her tone smug, arms crossed.

I look over at her, a sigh nearly escaping my lips, but she did have a point. Unlike her, though, I have seen it move. “God, does she ever stop bitchin’?” Sho muttered, rolling his eyes. “Apparently not,” I say, my voice flat. I turn toward her, stepping forward. “I have seen it move. When I split up from you guys, I saw this exact Hollow moving down a hallway, but I don’t know why it isn’t doing anything now,” I said, my voice steady despite her glare.

She looks at me with disgust, like I was a piece of horse shit she just stepped in and dared to speak to her. “Well, that was a useless sentence. Can you ever do anything useful, Kageyama?” Reina sneered, her lips curling. I stopped walking, feeling the vein on my temple throb. “Do you wanna die, you uppity bitch?” I mutter, my voice low, but she seems to have heard me somehow. She smirks and cackles, her laugh like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, look who suddenly has balls. Did you finally find your manhood after getting powers? Don’t forget your place, you insignificant pest. Your place in reality is bottom and will always remain at the bottom,” Reina said, her words dripping with venom.

Her boyfriend, Kenta, moves up behind her, puffing out his chest, trying to look intimidating, but I don’t feel it. His skin glistened, his Spec ready to blossom. I take a few steps forward, my anger boiling. “Oh yeah? You know, maybe being high and mighty is getting a little boring and suffocating. How about I bring you down to the bottom so you see how it’s like? Does six feet under sound good to you?” I say, my voice sharp. I picture a claymore in my head and transmit the thoughts to my shadows, the blade forming in my hand, heavy and jagged.

Kenta shuffles past Reina, his skin starting to glisten brighter, hardening like steel. Before I could get a good grip on my sword and thrust myself into a mock fight with my tormentors again, I felt a hand grab me—no, not one, several hands. I look behind me to see Sho, Shion, and Yui grabbing me, shaking their heads, their eyes almost psychically screaming that it wasn’t worth it. Yui’s grip was firm, her almost boyish strength surprising despite her crash. Shion’s stare was cold but urgent, and Sho’s hand was steady, grounding. I relented, my shoulders relaxing, and turned, walking away toward Riku, Mei, and Aya. “That’s right, walk away like a little bitch with your tail tucked between your legs,” Reina called after me, her voice smug.

I sigh and thank Sho, Shion, and Yui, my pulse still racing. “That woulda gotten ugly if you didn’t step in,” I said, my voice low. “Someone had to stop you before you did something stupid,” Shion said, her tone dry but with a hint of concern. “Yeah, but to be honest, it wasn’t worth it, so you should just let it go,” Yui said, her tone soft, her eyes warm despite the chaos. “For the record, I was more concerned about what you were gonna do to Kenta,” Sho said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

We reach the others, and they rant about their ordeal. Aya had a nosebleed, blood streaking her chin, her hands trembling from the strain of her Sketch Reality. She was mentally and physically exhausted from all the stuff she drew into existence—rifles, daggers, barriers—but she didn’t whine about it. “I’m just glad I could help,” Aya said, wiping blood from her nose and offering a warm smile, her eyes tired but bright. I couldn’t help but smile back, her resilience cutting through the grimness. “Good job. You did good,” I reply, my voice genuine. I stand there staring at her as she sits on the floor, staring back at me. The moment lasts for like five seconds, a quiet connection in the chaos, before Mei chimes in, her voice sharp. “I also worked hard, you know. I stunned those Hollows so Riku could kill them,” Mei said, crossing her arms, her Flash Flare leaving her eyes slightly bloodshot.

“Yeah, but you ended up flash-banging me in the process along with them. I’m still seeing spots,” Riku said, rubbing his eyes, his usual grin strained. His clothes were torn from a Hollow’s claw, but he was still standing, his Iron Grip keeping him in the fight. “So, we get some food now?” Sho asked, glancing at the cafeteria’s back.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say to him, turning toward the section of the cafeteria where they share meals. “The food should still be in the kitchen at the back,” I say, pointing at the back of the cafeteria, where stainless steel counters gleamed faintly under the flickering lights. But I see Kenta’s already making his way there, his stride cocky. “That bastard is making a beeline toward the food before us so he can snag as much as he can for him and his royal pain in the ass,” I say, my voice tight. Reina looks back at me with a shit-eating grin all over her face, her spec shimmering faintly around her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the massive Hollow twitch, its muscles rippling under matted fur. A feeling of dread suddenly knots my stomach, cold and heavy. “KENTA, WAIT, DON’T!” I shout, my voice cracking, but it’s too late. The split second I looked away from the Hollow, it vanished and reappeared in front of Kenta, its arm curled back like a major league pitcher about to throw a nasty screwball. It swings its arm and clocks Kenta, the impact echoing like a thunderclap. Kenta goes flying into a nearby wall, creating a Kenta-sized imprint in the cracked plaster. For a second, I think he’s dead—surely no one can survive something like that, Spec and all—but then I hear him coughing and sputtering, still imprinted on the wall, his hardened skin cracked but holding.

I let out a small laugh, unable to help it, the shock of him surviving hitting me like a wave. Reina screams, “KENTAAAA!” her voice raw with panic, her composure shattering. She looks at the Hollow, her spec flaring. We all do, frozen as it screeches, an awful sound that rakes my nerves like claws on glass. It pounds its chest, the sound reverberating through the cafeteria, its body shaking and crunching. The sounds are awful and guttural, but it keeps going, pounding at its chest and reforming. Its arms grow less hairy but bulge with more muscle, veins like cables under its skin. Its legs grow larger, thick as tree trunks. It takes a more human shape but way too big—like if a bodybuilder was ten feet tall and made of nothing but muscle. Its skin gleamed, slick with sweat and blood, its presence suffocating.

In all that muscle, I saw its face, and I recognised what I saw—or rather, who I saw. It was our gym teacher, Mr. Ito. His features were warped, eyes black voids, jaw unnaturally wide, but it was him. My stomach dropped, the uniform twist’s horror crashing back. “Mr. Ito…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, the realisation hitting like a sledgehammer. The cafeteria went silent, save for the Hollow’s guttural breathing, its massive form towering over us, ready to strike.