The sun slowly ascended, painting the Tuesday morning sky with the promise of an ordinary day. Students stirred, most dreading the inevitable return to school. While some had diligently prepared, even sacrificing sleep, three felt an inexplicable unease, a dark premonition whispering that something was amiss. They resolved to investigate after classes.

Rosario dressed with her usual understated elegance, preferring a polished look without demanding undue attention. Pato donned his typical attire: a black hooded sweatshirt, brown canvas pants, and his signature messy hair. Benjamin, however, was preoccupied. The disquiet he felt seemed connected to someone he knew, and León's unresponsive messages only fueled his anxiety.

Benjamin: "It's strange," he muttered, "he's always glued to his phone, responds instantly. Something must have happened."

Arriving at school, they immediately registered León's absence. He, always the first to arrive, was nowhere to be seen. His absence went largely unnoticed, and the day unfolded without incident. The hours dragged until the first break bell finally released them to the patio. Students milled about, some grabbing a quick bite, others simply anticipating the resumption of classes.

At noon, the bell's jarring ring summoned everyone back to their classrooms. León's desk remained empty. The only trace of him was his ever-present book, now abandoned beneath the desk, a stark reminder of his sudden disappearance.

Benjamin: "Where have you gone?" he whispered, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach. "I hope you're not doing anything reckless."

Rosario, hearing the anguish in his voice, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Rosario: "Calm down, Benjamin. He's probably just sick or working. He always talks about his job, so try not to worry too much."

Benjamin looked at her, his worry slightly abated, though not entirely extinguished. He returned to his desk, resigned to wait for class. But when all the students were seated, the geography lesson was violently interrupted. The classroom door burst open, slamming against the wall with a resounding crash that startled everyone. Silence descended upon the room as a young man with long, jet-black hair strode in. His hair cascaded down his back, radiating an air of mystery. He wore a striped leather vest that hugged his torso perfectly, contrasting sharply with a tight black low-necked shirt. His black military-style jeans were tucked into impeccably polished dark military boots. Each step resonated with authority as he surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on each student, assessing, evaluating, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

The teacher, taken aback by the late arrival, raised his voice, attempting to regain control.

Teacher: "You're late, student. Your name? I don't recognize you; are you new?"

León met his gaze with a smile of almost defiant calm and unshakeable confidence.

León: "Oh, I'm sorry, teacher," he replied, his voice surprisingly smooth. "I just changed my style a bit. Is it that noticeable?" He chuckled softly, a glint of impudence in his eyes.

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The teacher was speechless. He couldn't reconcile this self-assured young man with the León he knew – the León with the glasses, the simple, often disheveled clothes, the shy, reserved demeanor. This León radiated a confident, almost defiant energy. With a mix of disbelief and resignation, the teacher gestured towards León's usual seat.

León passed Luna, who, finding him surprisingly sophisticated and somewhat attractive, offered a friendly greeting, taking his arm. León recoiled delicately, the mocking smile from the previous day returning.

León: "Don't touch me," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're probably so used that you could give me cancer and AIDS just by contact. Besides, I don't want to get my clothes dirty with hypocrisy." He exaggerated a disdainful wipe of the spot she had touched.

Luna froze, tears welling in her eyes, publicly humiliated and speechless. León continued to his seat at the back, greeting Benjamin with energetic enthusiasm, his demeanor a strange mix of familiar and utterly foreign.

The school day passed without further incident until the second recess. As the students filed out, Rosario grabbed León's shirt and dragged him into an empty classroom, pinning him against the wall. Rosario, gifted with an innate sensitivity to the mystical and occult—ghosts, spirits, demons, and other entities—knew that the being before her was not the real León. Despite the imposter's feigned fear and confusion, his true nature flickered beneath the surface.

Rosario: "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm and authoritative, her eyes locked on the imposter's. "And why are you wearing a body that doesn't belong to you?"

The eyes that had feigned fear now gleamed with cruel malice. A sadistic smile stretched across the imposter's face as he tilted his head in a disturbing manner. With unexpected force, he seized Rosario's wrists, squeezing and twisting them violently. Rosario, overwhelmed by the sudden pain, weakened and slumped to her knees.

Impostor (Sombra): —Mira —siseó, identificándose como Sombra—. "Solo fingí ser León porque él me lo pidió, pero como me has descubierto, solo puedo decirte la verdad". Se echó a reír, con un sonido desprovisto de alegría, lleno de una sed escalofriante y satisfecha. "Lo siento si te preocupaste por León, pero... No va a volver jamás.

Shadow soltó las muñecas de Rosario y luego, con renovada brutalidad, la agarró por el cuello, levantándola ligeramente antes de golpearla contra una mesa cercana. Sus ojos ardían con perversa intención mientras acariciaba su rostro con los dedos, su tacto era una escalofriante mezcla de frialdad, sadismo y un encanto inquietante, casi seductor.

Sombra: "Sería un desperdicio matar a alguien como tú..." —murmuró, con una voz escalofriante—. "Tal vez deberíamos jugar un poco primero".

A pesar de su terror, Rosario luchó. Sombra, dominando fácilmente su cuerpo debilitado, comenzó a someterla. Justo cuando parecía a punto de forzarse sobre ella, una pesada pieza de metal se precipitó hacia su cara, golpeándolo directamente y haciéndolo caer al suelo. Benjamín, sintiendo que algo andaba terriblemente mal, había actuado. Al escuchar la conversación, había esperado el momento oportuno para intervenir, protegiendo a Rosario.

Benjamín: —¿Puedes traerlo de vuelta? —preguntó, con voz firme, los ojos fijos en Rosario mientras permanecían de pie sobre el cuerpo inconsciente de León.

Rosario vaciló y luego respondió sin rodeos: "Lo máximo que puedo hacer es traerlo de vuelta por unos minutos. Si quiere volver, tendrás que convencerlo tú mismo.

Benjamín miró a su amigo, tratando de imaginar cómo actuaría León en esta situación. Sabía que León, sobreprotector y temeroso, habría tomado medidas aún más drásticas. Una punzada de culpa lo atravesó por no haber sido un mejor amigo. Se encontró con la mirada de Rosario, con expresión resuelta.

Benjamín: "Hagámoslo. Tráelo de vuelta. Lo convenceré, incluso si tengo que obligarlo. Intentaré que los profesores nos ayuden, pero... si eso falla, necesitaremos un plan B".