The clock ticked louder than it should have, mocking my every second of confinement in maths class. You’d think after the world-altering craziness of recent days, long division would seem easier. Nope. It still felt like some twisted brain workout.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling tiles. They were speckled with little holes, and if you squinted, some of them formed patterns. I’d once found one that looked like a dragon, but now I was just bored, counting down the seconds until the bell rang.

Our school, Ironwill Selective, was one of those buildings that had seen better decades. You could tell it was built with good intentions—back when linoleum floors and harsh fluorescent lights were all the rage. The walls were painted a pale green that someone in charge probably thought was calming, but to me, it looked like the colour of regret. Posters of motivational quotes were everywhere, saying things like “Dream Big!” or “Every Journey Starts with a Single Step.” I bet whoever wrote those didn’t spend seven hours a day here.

The classrooms all looked the same: rectangular with desks jammed together in tight rows, chipped whiteboards up front, and windows that refused to open properly. My desk was in the back, near the corner, where I had the perfect view of my friends. Steven was two seats ahead, scribbling notes with the same determination he brought to his ramen battles. Liam sat a row to the right, his chin resting in his palm, looking equally unimpressed with today’s lesson. Everett had managed to snag a seat by the window and was absentmindedly fiddling with a pencil, occasionally tapping it against the glass.

The school courtyard outside the window was surprisingly nice compared to the interior. A few benches surrounded by patches of grass and trees made it feel like a tiny oasis. Beyond that, you could just make out the rusty old fence separating us from the rest of the world. The forest loomed in the distance, its dark edges a stark contrast to the neat rows of houses we all called home.

The bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. I gathered my things in record time, hoping to escape to lunch before the hallway traffic jam began. But just as I slung my bag over my shoulder, the intercom crackled to life.

“Attention, students,” the voice of Principal Carter boomed. “Grayson, Steven, Liam, Everett, Tristan, and Noah, please report to the office immediately.”

My heart skipped a beat. That couldn’t be good.

“What did you do this time?” Liam teased as we exchanged glances.

“Me?” I whispered back. “What about you? I bet it’s about that thing with the soda fountain last week.”

Liam grinned but didn’t reply. We filed out of the classroom, cutting through the chaos of the hallway. Kids were pouring out of their classrooms, shouting and laughing, their voices bouncing off the walls like a symphony of chaos. The faint smell of cafeteria pizza drifted through the air, making my stomach growl.

The principal’s office was at the far end of the school, tucked away behind a heavy wooden door with a little frosted glass window. Inside, it was quieter than the rest of the building. Too quiet. The air smelled faintly of cleaning supplies, and the walls were lined with plaques and photos of past principals, their faces stern and disapproving.

Principal Carter stood in front of her desk, her hands clasped tightly. She was a tall woman with sharp features and short, silver-streaked hair that made her look both intimidating and wise. She didn’t smile much, but she didn’t need to—her presence alone commanded attention.

“Take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the six chairs arranged in a neat row.

We obeyed, exchanging nervous glances as we sat down.

“What’s this about?” Everett asked, breaking the silence.

Principal Carter’s expression didn’t change. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said cryptically, just as the door behind her creaked open.

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“No way…” I whispered, leaning forward in my seat.

The room went deathly quiet. All eyes were glued to the man standing just inside the door—tall, wiry, and exuding a cold, calculated presence. He wasn’t someone you’d want to meet on a bad day. Jayden. That was the name Principal Carter had mumbled when he let this stranger in.

Jayden’s dark trench coat hung stiffly over his frame, his hands clasped behind his back as if he was on the clock. His cropped, jet-black hair and faint scar running along his left cheek gave him a sharp, almost robotic look—just as professional and serious as his demeanour. His emerald eyes swept the room, as if sizing each of us up, before he fixed his gaze on us—the six of us—his stare cold, but not unfriendly.

“I’m here on behalf of Generals Henk, Restingam, and Hayadi,” Jayden said, his voice clipped, formal. “You are being summoned to a military outpost northwest of this area.”

Summoned? What? My brain stuttered for a moment.

Liam, sitting to my left, whispered, “Summoned? Like, what, we’re knights or something?”

“Shh!” hissed Steven, his eyes wide with panic.

Jayden continued, unfazed by the whispered murmurs. “You six have been identified as individuals of interest. Due to your unique abilities—”

Abilities? Oh no.

“—it is imperative that you report to the generals. There, you will be briefed on the current state of the conflict and your potential role in the war effort.”

Tristan frowned. “Wait, what conflict? What role?”

“Hold on,” Noah said, raising a hand like we were in some sort of academic meeting. “Who are you, and why does this sound like some bad action movie script?”

Jayden’s expression didn’t shift, though the smallest trace of impatience tugged at his features. He glanced toward Principal Carter, who stood near the desk, clearly as out of place as the rest of us. “My name is Jayden. I am a liaison for the generals. Nothing more needs to be said.”

“Nothing more?” Everett asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just gonna show up and tell us we’re wanted for some kind of military debrief?”

Jayden’s gaze hardened. “You are citizens. You have a duty.”

“A duty to what?” I blurted, before I could stop myself. My words came out sharper than I meant, but everything felt so… off. This wasn’t how a regular school day was supposed to go.

Jayden didn’t even blink. “The generals have their reasons. It is not for you to question. You will come with me, and you will meet with them.”

“Well, we’ve got questions,” Liam said, barely containing his annoyance. “Like, what’s all this about? You can’t just drag us off to some military base with no explanation.”

“I can,” Jayden said flatly. “You will comply, or you will face consequences. The choice is yours.”

The room felt tense enough to snap. The seconds stretched on, heavy with uncertainty. Everyone exchanged glances, my stomach in knots. This was getting way too weird, way too fast.

Noah’s voice cut through the air, breaking the silence. “So… we’re just supposed to trust you, huh?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Just some guy showing up and saying, ‘Hey, the generals want to see you.’”

“Enough,” Jayden snapped. “You are needed. Gather your things. We leave immediately.”

“Now? Like, right now?” Tristan asked incredulously.

Jayden didn’t answer. Instead, his hard eyes flicked toward Principal Carter, who finally spoke up, though her voice was tight with hesitation.

“I… I can’t stop them,” she said softly, her gaze flicking nervously between the messenger and the six of us. “You… You’ll have to go with him.”

“Great,” Liam muttered under his breath. “This just keeps getting better.”

I shot him a glare but turned back to the rest of my friends. Every one of them looked as confused as I felt, but no one was making any moves to leave. We were stuck in this mess together.

Everett stood up, shaking his head as he glanced at the rest of us. “This doesn’t feel right, guys. We need to think about this.”

“I agree,” I said, my voice quiet. “But I don’t think we have much of a choice.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Noah said with a grin, though his nervous energy was palpable. “But hey, might as well roll with it. Can’t be worse than last time, right?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “This is insane…”

Jayden took a step forward, cutting off any further protests. “Enough talking. Gather your belongings. Now.”

The tension was thick, every one of us silently weighing the odds. No more words were exchanged as we grabbed our bags. No one spoke as we moved toward the door. The last thing I heard before leaving Principal Carter’s office was her voice, barely a whisper:

“Good luck, kids.”

Then, we followed Jayden out, unsure of what was ahead, but knowing it would change everything.