The world was burning—engulfed in flames of our own making. Our machines, once obedient, turned against us with cold precision, dismantling everything we built. It was the end—or so it seemed. Hope flickered like dying embers, snuffed out by the encroaching darkness. But in that endless void, three sparks blazed defiantly. They didn’t come to save us. No, they came to defy the darkness. Not heroes, but a reckless blaze against a suffocating night, roaring with a fury that said, "We’re not finished yet."

In the charred remnants of a fallen world, those sparks became legends—the Three Seats of Power. They weren’t just rulers; they were the last semblance of order in the wreckage. But power is a restless beast, never satisfied. A vacant throne is a gaping wound, inviting blood and war. Systems crumbled, firewalls shattered, and when the dust settled, three took their seats:

Seat of Order - The White

Seat of Eye - The Red

Seat of Havoc - The Black

For someone like me, who grew up in the shadows of this new order, the real game wasn’t played in broad daylight or the halls of power. It thrived in the dark, where the bold and the reckless thrived. And that’s exactly where I belonged.

I sat in the dim glow of my monitor, the screen flickering like a heartbeat. Fingers poised over the keyboard, I could feel the familiar rush building. This wasn’t just any firewall—it was a fortress, a digital citadel. But I wasn’t here to break walls; I was here to have fun, to toy with their defenses and slip through the cracks. Every keystroke was a small rebellion, every hack a quiet laugh in the face of their control. This was my playground, and I was the one bending the rules.

As I scanned the source code on the screen, my eyes narrowed at a string of characters that didn’t belong. A grin tugged at my lips.

“Gotcha,” I muttered, fingers dancing across the keys to exploit the tiny oversight. The system unfolded like a puzzle, its secrets laid bare.

But just getting in wasn’t enough. I wanted them to know I’d been there, that someone had slipped through their precious defenses. My fingers trembled with anticipation as I typed in two words—simple, but mocking: Hello, World.

It would enrage them, no doubt. I could already picture them scrambling to trace the untraceable. With a few final keystrokes, I dismantled their operation. Files corrupted, data rerouted—everything unraveling, and they had no idea who had done it.

I leaned back, satisfied, listening to the hum of my computer. It wasn’t about revenge or a grand plan. No, the real thrill was knowing they’d been bested for no reason other than my own amusement. They would spend hours, maybe days, trying to clean up the mess I’d left behind, all while wondering who had toyed with them from the shadows.

And that? That was the best part.

My whole night went into this mess. Because of that, I was running late for school. But as luck would have it, school was opening late that day. Why? Who knew. Administrative hiccup, maybe a staff meeting. All I knew was it saved me from an even worse start to the day. Sometimes, it felt like the universe enjoyed balancing out the chaos I created—right before it yanked the rug out from under me.

And there she was—Aaravi—waiting for me at the school gate, arms crossed, foot tapping in that way that said, Here we go again. Her eyes locked onto mine like she’d been expecting this exact scene. It was like she had a sixth sense for my screw-ups. The universe wasn’t balancing anything after all.

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"You’re late again, Vyom." Her tone was sharp, but there was a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "Honestly, I don’t know how you manage to function without a time machine."

"I was up all night dealing with something… important," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to look casual. "It’s not like I planned to be late. Besides, school’s opening late today, so technically, I’m not really late."

She tilted her head, giving me that look—the one where her eyebrow arched just slightly, enough to say, Really? "Not the point," she countered. "You’re always full of excuses. One day you’ll run out of them, and then what?"

"Then I’ll probably get eaten by a very punctual monster," I deadpanned. "But until that day, I’m surviving just fine in this chaotic universe that clearly has it out for me."

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched, threatening to smile. "You know, it wouldn’t kill you to manage your time better."

"Maybe I should invest in a suit and briefcase while I’m at it," I quipped, smirking.

Her foot stopped tapping. "I’d pay good money to see that," she said, the playful gleam in her eyes finally breaking through. "Though I doubt you’d last a day as 'Vyom, Corporate Citizen.'"

"Mrs. Taskmaster strikes again," I teased, throwing her a mock salute.

Just as she was about to respond, the school bell rang. Her eyes widened, and her expression shifted to one of panic.

"Great! Now we’re both going to be late because of you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with exasperation.

"Me? You’re the one who stopped me for a lecture!" I protested as we both bolted toward the school doors.

Our feet pounded against the pavement as we weaved through clusters of students. Aaravi’s grumbling was punctuated by short breaths as she struggled to keep up with me.

"If you weren’t so reckless, we wouldn’t be sprinting right now!" she huffed, glaring at me between gasps for air.

"If you weren’t so obsessed with being on time, maybe we’d actually enjoy this run!" I shot back, dodging a group of first-years.

We darted up the stairs, each step a burst of adrenaline-fueled competition. I could hear her muttering something under her breath—probably another lecture about time management, but I was too focused on the classroom door rapidly approaching.

We burst into the room, panting and flushed, every pair of eyes locked on us. The teacher’s gaze was like a laser, cutting straight through our post-sprint euphoria.

"Nice of you two to join us," she said, her voice colder than a Siberian winter. "Care to explain why you’re so late?"

We exchanged a quick glance, and without missing a beat, launched into our overlapping explanations—each blaming the other. The cacophony of our voices bounced off the walls, but it didn’t take long for the teacher’s stern look to silence us.

"Vyom, stand outside until you’re ready to behave like an actual student. Aaravi," she paused, her tone softening just slightly, "since this is your first time being late, I’ll let it slide."

Aaravi shot me a look of pure exasperation as she slipped into her seat. I made my way to the hallway, the classroom door closing behind me with a soft thud. The silence of the empty corridor felt heavier than the chaos we’d just left behind.

As I stood there, I couldn’t help but smile. Even in moments like these, Aaravi had a way of making everything feel… lighter. Less chaotic. Maybe it wasn’t the universe balancing things out after all—maybe it was just her.

Ayaan glanced at his watch, his grin widening. “Well, you better start with getting to class on time.” He waved as he headed back towards the classroom. “See you at lunch, latecomer!”

I rolled my eyes as I watched him disappear into the crowd of students. I was about to follow when the school bell rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. The sound echoed through the halls, reminding me that, yet again, I was behind schedule.

Back in class, I found my usual seat at the back, away from the chatter and eyes of my peers. I didn’t like being the center of attention—not unless I was in control. Ayaan and Aaravi were the only two I felt comfortable around, the only ones who understood me without needing explanations.

The day crawled by. Lectures blurred into each other, the clock ticking away with agonizing slowness. By the time the interval came, I was more than ready for a break. Ayaan, Aaravi, and I gathered in our usual corner of the courtyard, where the conversations flowed as easily as the laughter. It was our safe haven—away from the rigid structure of school, just the three of us.

As we chatted, my phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of the moment. Aaravi noticed, nudging me with her elbow. “What’s that? Another one of your shady deals?” she teased.

I pulled out my phone, expecting a random notification. But what I saw made me pause. The message was from an unknown number. The subject line was stark, simple: Hello, World.

“Everything okay?” Aaravi asked, noticing the change in my expression.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” I said quickly, shoving the phone back into my pocket. “Probably just spam.”

But I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in my gut. That message—it couldn’t be random. It had to be connected to what I did last night. The more I thought about it, the more the pieces started to come together. Could this be the fallout I’d been dreading?

I tried to push the thoughts away as we headed back to class, but the nagging sensation wouldn’t leave me. The line between my two worlds was starting to blur, and I had a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t be able to keep them apart for much longer.