The morning started just like any other for Darius as he woke up, got out of bed, and readied himself to face the day. He gave a final stretch, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, before leaving his room. The apartment was silent, and the familiar calm soothed him. His mother was still asleep; she’d worked the night shift and wouldn’t wake until he was well into his day at school.
He quietly went about his morning routine, grabbing a bowl and spooning in some of the yogurt they’d made a few days prior. Adding a touch of honey-flavored sweetener, he smiled to himself. His mom had insisted that, even if it was homemade, it tasted “pretty close to the real thing,” and it was their little luxury. With dairy a rare and expensive commodity, anything resembling traditional yogurt was a treat.
After finishing up, he cleaned the bowl and spoon, putting them back in the places he’d taken them. Before heading out, he cracked open his mother’s bedroom door and peeked in. She was still sound asleep, her noise-canceling headphones firmly in place, her breathing soft and even. She wore those headphones almost every night now; the streets below could be loud, and the constant hum of the city sometimes became too much. Darius watched her for a moment, feeling a pang of tenderness as he whispered a quiet goodbye, knowing she couldn’t hear it.
He took the elevator down, stepping out into the bustling morning streets, and made his way to school. It was only once he reached his math class that he felt his morning slip into routine, meeting Aaron and Cole with a grin. But as soon as he settled into his chair, he could feel the weight of the day ahead. He sighed; Ms. Harlow was already launching into trig identities review and surface integrals, linking them to electrostatics and magnetism.
Darius braced himself for a long morning. By the time the lecture portion wrapped up, his mind was ready for a break, and he turned to Aaron with relief, eager to talk about anything other than math. But Aaron beat him to it.
“Cole, man, you missed out yesterday,” Aaron said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “The reef was insane. They’ve created Breacher hybrids!”
Cole’s eyes widened, looking from Aaron to Darius. “What does that even mean? Are you trying to tell me you saw a Breacher down there?”
“No, no,” Aaron said, his words rushing. “They’re not actual Breachers—just, like, fish and coral with Breacher DNA. Darius probably understands it better.”
“Dr. Marroe said there’s an empowered individual who can help blend the DNA, but he was kind of vague. It’s still, like, 90% normal DNA. The Breacher DNA just makes it hardier, able to survive rougher conditions,” Darius explained, hoping it made sense. “Dr. Marroe said he’ll send a paper around sometime soon, so we’ll know more then.”
A twinge of guilt rose as he remembered he’d promised to take photos for his mom. The reef’s connection to his dad had made the whole thing more meaningful than he’d realized, and he felt a pang of regret for not sharing that moment with her. Next time, he promised himself, he’d take plenty.
Then, as suddenly as a thunderclap, the classroom loudspeaker blared to life, and every head snapped up in attention.
“Attention, attention! Emergency Breacher alert. Breacher spotted near New Toronto. All students and staff must evacuate to designated shelter areas immediately.”
Darius felt his pulse quicken. A Breacher this close? It was nearly unprecedented. Ms. Harlow’s face paled, her normally calm demeanor shaken as her gaze darted to the window, as if she could catch sight of the threat on the horizon. The dread in her face was unmistakable, her hands trembling slightly as she set down her notebook.
“Alright, everyone,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “No need to panic. I’m sure the Guardians will take care of this quickly, and we’ll be back in class before the hour is out.” But her voice was shaky, and Darius could hear the forced reassurance behind it.
Ms. Harlow quickly directed the students into lines for the evacuation, herding them into a semblance of order. In the chaos, Darius lost sight of Aaron and Cole, his head whipping around as he tried to spot them in the crowd. But the press of bodies soon overwhelmed him, and he found himself pushed out into the hallway along with everyone else.
In the corridors, the scene was even worse—students and teachers scrambled in every direction, some barely able to hold back tears, others crying openly as they hurried to the underground shelters. Darius’ heart pounded in his chest as he watched the stream of students, looking less like his classmates and more like frightened children, their faces pale with fear.
And then, the thought struck him like a hammer: his mother. Alone at home, still asleep, soundproof headphones blocking out every sound. An image of her flashed vividly in his mind—unaware, vulnerable, with no warning of the approaching threat. He could feel his priorities shift in an instant, an intense urgency taking hold. He had to get to her.
Pushing through the sea of panicked students, Darius made his way toward the side exit, his movements desperate and frantic. “What are you doing, Darius?” Cole’s voice cut through the chaos, barely audible over the din. But Darius only shouted back a single word: “Mom.”
As soon as he burst out onto the streets, he was met with a scene unlike anything he had ever seen. The city, usually so composed, was in utter disarray. People ran in every direction, screaming, shouting, clinging to each other as they hurried toward the nearest shelters. The usual bright signs of the VR arcade cast an eerie glow over the chaos, the cheerful lights now seeming almost mocking, a garish reminder of normalcy that had shattered in an instant. The air raid sirens shrieked overhead, cutting into Darius' chest like a knife, each pulse of the sound fueling his growing panic.
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Pushing forward, he fought his way through the crowd, grateful for his tall build, which allowed him to see above most heads. He ran, dodging and weaving through the streets he knew so well, streets that had turned hostile and unfamiliar in the grip of fear. The towering buildings, usually symbols of security, now felt like looming giants, watching him with an indifference that chilled him to his core.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, he finally reached his building, every second feeling like an hour. Ignoring the crowded elevator, he sprinted up ten flights of stairs, the effort burning his legs and lungs, until he reached the door to their apartment. Fumbling with his key, he threw open the door and rushed inside, heading straight for his mother’s room.
She was still asleep, her noise-canceling headphones snugly over her ears. In his urgency, he tore them off, and she awoke with a start, her eyes wide with confusion and alarm as the sirens flooded the room.
“Darius…” she whispered, her voice faint, almost lost in the cacophony outside. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a Breacher near the coast,” he stammered, barely able to catch his breath. “We need to leave. Now.”
Her expression shifted to one of dawning terror as she scrambled out of bed, still in her pajamas, grabbing what essentials she could. Together, they moved quickly into the living room, but as they reached the bay window, Darius stopped dead in his tracks.
From their vantage point, they could see the coastline—and hovering ominously above the water was a sight that had haunted Darius' nightmares for as long as he could remember. The Razorwing.
It was impossibly massive, even from a kilometer away. He could hardly comprehend its size; it blocked out whole swaths of sky, its monstrous form casting a shadow over the water below. His mother tried to pull him away, but he was transfixed, his eyes wide with terror as he took in every horrifying detail.
The Razorwing’s body was a patchwork of armor and pulsing crimson scars that glowed like molten lava, as though some malevolent energy coursed through its veins. Four massive wings extended from its back, their edges sharp and glinting like obsidian blades. The creature’s head was a twisted mass of tentacles and eyes, an impossible, nightmarish visage that defied all sense and logic. Its black tentacles writhed beneath it, each armored with thick, jagged plates, like the claws of a monster born from the darkest depths of a nightmare.
He barely registered his mother’s desperate tugging as his gaze fixed on the distant team of Guardians approaching the Razorwing. They were like colorful specks against the monstrous backdrop, each one carrying with them the city’s hope for survival. He recognized Zephyr, the air manipulator, pushing them forward on currents of wind, and Ironclad, accelerating toward the Breacher with deadly intent.
Darius’ heart stopped as one of the Razorwing’s tentacles lashed out, impaling Ironclad mid-air, his metallic form suspended for a moment before dropping from the sky like a stone. Screams rose from the streets below, the horror of the scene rippling through the crowd like a physical blow.
“Darius,” his mother pleaded, her voice thick with fear.
But Darius barely registered her words, his gaze locked onto the chaotic battle unfolding in the distance. The Guardians, usually the city’s stalwart defenders, seemed small and outmatched, mere insects against the hulking monstrosity before them.
Just then, a brilliant, ghostly green light began to glow at the center of the Guardian formation. Darius squinted, his heart surging with a flicker of hope. There he was—Deathbeam. His aura was unmistakable, a pulsing, vivid energy that painted the sky in hues of jade. Even at this distance, the power he exuded was palpable, an almost electric sensation that prickled along Darius’ skin.
“Mom,” he whispered, a note of awe in his voice. “That’s Deathbeam… one of the Vancouver Five. He’s the one who took down the Leviathan-class Breacher that tried to reach Hawaii.”
For a moment, she stopped pulling, her gaze lifting to follow his. Though fear clouded her features, Darius could see a faint glimmer of hope. “Alright, sweetheart. I believe you… but we still have to go. Please, for me.”
Darius nodded reluctantly, backing away from the window. But just as he turned, his eyes caught something else—another tentacle from the Razorwing, lashing forward with terrifying speed. It struck Zephyr in a single, ruthless arc, her form slicing apart in mid-air, pieces scattering like fallen leaves in a gust of wind leaving trails of bloody mist and viscera.
Darius’ heart twisted as he saw the next instant unfold. Deathbeam, momentarily distracted by Zephyr’s brutal end, lost control of his energy buildup. His deadly green blast veered wildly off course, tearing through the air and creating a rift of destruction wherever it pointed. His form spun in freefall, the emerald beam carving a reckless path toward the city’s skyline—heading straight toward their building.
Darius’ body moved on instinct, adrenaline surging through him as he whipped around, grabbing his mother’s hand with a grip so fierce he thought he might crush her fingers. Together, they bolted from the window, feet pounding across the floor as the world around them shook. Their breaths came in jagged gasps, the air thick with dust and fear. He could feel her hand in his, trembling but steady, her presence grounding him amidst the chaos.
The blinding green light from the blast grew nearer, its roar swallowing every other sound, vibrating through the floor. Desperate, Darius squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his mother closer. The air around them seemed to fold in, like they’d crossed into another dimension, the heat and pressure swelling until he could no longer breathe.
And then—emptiness.
Her hand was gone.
His heart thundered as he stood in a strange silence, his mother’s touch suddenly, impossibly, absent. Seconds passed, stretched into infinity as he waited for death’s embrace, for the blast he knew must have consumed them both. But… nothing came. The hum of the blast faded, leaving only the beat of his heart in his ears.
Darius opened his eyes.
The familiar surroundings of their home were gone, replaced by an expanse of unfamiliar streets, much nicer than the ones he grew up on. He staggered, blinking against the dim light, his breaths coming in desperate gasps. His mother—his anchor in that final moment—was nowhere to be seen. The silence pressed down on him, a void left in the space where her hand had been, and he realized with a growing dread that he was utterly, inexplicably alone.