Pilsudski knew today would be tough, but he felt ready. After months of struggling with himself, he had decided to close a chapter of his life.

After a quick breakfast and a brief glance at his phone, Izak grabbed a white rose and a can of energy drink from the table—items he had prepared the day before—and left his house. The streets were already bustling with people, but he ignored the surroundings, focusing solely on his destination: the cemetery where his friends rested.

Upon arrival, a knot tightened in his stomach. The cemetery was silent, shrouded in the gentle whisper of the wind. He stopped in front of Nadzieja’s gravestone, a simple marble slab engraved with her name, dates, and the words: “You will always remain in our hearts.” Fresh flowers lay on the stone, surrounded by numerous flickering candles. It was clear that her memory was still alive among her loved ones.

Kneeling down, he placed the rose gently on the stone. For a moment, he couldn’t say anything, but then he summoned his courage.

“Nadzieja... I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For everything. For not being able to protect you. For the pain you had to endure because of me. I just... I just wanted you to be happy.”

He stared at the inscription, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself.

“I hope that wherever you are now, it’s a better place. I promise I won’t waste the second chance I’ve been given.”

Slowly, he rose to his feet, his gaze lingering briefly on the polished surface of the gravestone. Wiping his face, he moved a few rows over to Marcin’s grave.

Marcin’s resting place was far more modest, reflecting his humble personality. Izak knelt before the gravestone, pulled out the energy drink, and placed it on the marble slab. There were no wreaths or fresh flowers, just a single burnt-out candle. Marcin, who had grown up in an orphanage, didn’t have a family to regularly visit his grave.

“Hey, Marcin,” Izak began, forcing a weak smile. “I brought your favorite energy drink. You probably think I’m an idiot for this, but whatever. I know you liked it, so I figured it’s better than flowers. Besides, you always said you didn’t like things getting too sentimental.”

He ran his hand across the cold surface of the gravestone, his smile tinged with sadness.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need to say this: forgiving myself isn’t easy. I survived what happened, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten. Every day, I think about what I could’ve done differently. Maybe if I’d been faster, stronger... Maybe then you’d still be here.”

His gaze dropped as a lump formed in his throat. Yet, after a moment, the faint smile returned.

“But I promised you once that I wouldn’t dwell on the past, so... you’re right. It’s time to move forward. I don’t know what’s ahead, but I won’t give up. You know I’ve never liked losing, and this time, the stakes are higher than ever.”

Rising to his feet, he cast one last glance at his friend’s grave.

“Rest in peace, old friend. I promise to keep fighting until the end. Maybe we’ll meet again someday, but I’m in no rush. I’ve got a lot left to do.”

With that resolve in his heart, Izak turned and left the cemetery, feeling for the first time in a long while that he had made peace with his past and was ready to face the future. He headed toward the school for the Awakened.

The city was alive with energy, but something in the air felt different—heavy and tense. Izak noticed people moving faster than usual. Within minutes, the wailing of sirens pierced the air.

Pilsudski froze. He knew that sound all too well—it meant only one thing: a mutant had entered the city. He remembered it was the last day of summer break, a time when temporal rifts were at their most unstable. These tears in reality allowed monstrous creatures to cross into their world—horrifying abominations that destroyed everything in their path.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Unlike the chaos of a recent terrorist attack, the people around him acted with practiced precision. They knew the drill—this was a frequent occurrence. Some rushed to marked shelter entrances, others helped the elderly and children, and all around, voices barked commands. Guards in exoskeletons were already setting up protective barriers, directing civilians to safety. Patrol drones filled the sky, scanning the area.

For a moment, Izak stood in awe, mixed with unease. “They’ve really got this under control,” he thought, though a creeping anxiety lingered. “The exam will definitely be canceled,” he mused, starting toward the nearest shelter. But before he could take another step, his phone buzzed.

The screen read “Idiot,” indicating a call from Filip. Izak answered, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Where are you going, genius?” Filip’s familiar, sarcastic voice asked.

“To the shelter, obviously!” Izak replied. “The sirens mean mutants are in the city. The exam has to be canceled, right?”

Filip sighed, as if dealing with a particularly stubborn child.

“Canceled? Of course not. The exam proceeds as planned. My school has a protective barrier; mutants can’t get in.”

“That’s insane!” Izak protested. “What if I’m late?”

“If you’re late, you can’t take the exam,” Filip replied with a tone that brooked no argument. “So you’d better hurry. You’re wasting time.”

Swallowing hard, Izak glanced toward the school. For a moment, he hesitated, but then clenched his fists and broke into a run.

The city was in full lockdown. The streets were chaotic, though the orderly actions of the emergency teams lent an air of control. Overhead, groups of mutants—grotesque hybrids of reptiles and insects—darted through the sky. Their membranous wings cast eerie shadows, and their shrill screeches tore through the air.

“Focus, Izak. They’re just overgrown pigeons,” he told himself, quickening his pace. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, helping him ignore the danger.

But as he neared the school, a scream stopped him in his tracks.

Turning, he saw a woman and her child cornered in an alley by one of the smaller mutants—a creature resembling a massive lizard with spiked armor. Its predatory movements left no doubt about its intent.

Izak hesitated. Every second of delay could mean their death. But intervening would risk him missing the exam, his only shot at a better life. “Sometimes you have to sacrifice your own goals,” he thought, recalling Nadzieja’s words. Without hesitation, he charged toward the mutant.

The creature noticed him, letting out a guttural growl. It was fast—faster than Izak expected. He barely dodged its attack, the beast’s claws slicing through the air inches from his face.

Grabbing a discarded metal pipe, he swung at the creature, striking its armored hide. The impact barely left a scratch. The mutant hissed and lunged again, slashing at him. This time, its claws tore through his hoodie, leaving a deep gash on his arm.

“Damn it!” Izak cursed, stumbling back. Blood seeped from the wound, but he didn’t have time to think about the pain.

The mutant prepared another strike, but Izak took a deep breath, focusing on what he had learned in training. Ignoring the pain, he dashed forward, dodging its attack and aiming for its eye. His strike landed, and the beast recoiled with a deafening screech.

“Take that!” Izak shouted, seizing the opportunity. With all his strength, he slammed the pipe into the creature’s exposed neck. The mutant collapsed, its body convulsing briefly before going still.

Breathing heavily, Izak knelt, clutching his wounded arm. The woman and child stared at him in shock.

“Get to the shelter. Now,” he urged, pointing the way. The woman nodded, grabbing her child and running.

Izak struggled to his feet, forcing himself toward the school.

When he arrived, he saw the glowing barrier protecting the campus, mutants futilely slamming against it. Beyond the shield, everything seemed calm—a different world entirely. He glanced at the clock above the entrance.

He was ten minutes late.