CHAPTER 5: The Divine Stone

The canteen air crackled, thick with a tension that had congealed into something ugly. Peter, his face contorted in a sneer, punctuated his words with a violent shove. "Enough? If it was enough, he'd be on the ground, not throwing lunch boxes at me! He still thinks he can fight!" A brutal kick followed, aimed at John's stomach. John, already weakened, couldn't even muster a flinch. He crumpled, his body slamming against the unforgiving corner of the wall. A sickening crack echoed, and crimson blossomed across John's temple, a stark contrast to the drab canteen floor.

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers. A flicker of humanity ignited, a desire to help, but it was quickly extinguished by fear. The shadow of the Black God Team, and their leader's iron-fisted control, loomed large.

They had all witnessed John's defiance, and now, they witnessed his brutal punishment. Whispers, laced with guilt and helplessness, drifted through the crowd. "We should tell a teacher… his blood is flowing too fast." But no one moved.

Peter, his eyes cold and predatory, watched their hesitant movements. As they began to file out of the canteen, he planted himself at the exit, a menacing figure blocking their path. Steve, his second-in-command, rose, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a predator sizing up its prey. "Do you also want to be victims of our anger? Go outside. If anyone goes to complain, or to the school hostel or hospital to help John, you'll join him. You'll lie there like he is. Understand?" His voice, low and dangerous, left no room for dissent.

The crowd, cowed into submission, silently dispersed. Peter's threat had worked. John was left alone, bleeding, abandoned. An hour ticked by, each minute a testament to their fear and his isolation. He pressed his t-shirt against the gushing wound, a futile attempt to stem the flow. Weakness gnawed at him, a chilling reminder of the blood he had lost. With a surge of desperate resolve, he forced himself to his feet.

The school hospital, a beacon in the encroaching darkness, offered a sliver of hope. The lights, still burning, spurred him onward. He stumbled, his legs heavy, and finally reached the door. With a trembling hand, he knocked, then pushed it open. The world dissolved into a blur, and he collapsed, unconscious.

Meanwhile, deep beneath the school, in a clandestine research facility, a group of doctors stood around a lifeless form. "Do you really think this will work?" James Will, his voice laced with scepticism, addressed Luna.

"Doctor James, as you know, we have been working on this secret mission for almost eight years. The Divine Stone." Luna's voice held a quiet determination. "I know very well why you named this mission the Divine Stone."

Images flashed through their minds: the day, eight years prior, when the asteroid had plummeted from the sky, crashing into the lower-class city where they, and John, had lived. The chaos, the fear, and then, the discovery—a strange, otherworldly stone buried within the crater.

For four years, they had toiled, meticulously studying the artifact. Luna and James, driven by ambition and a thirst for knowledge, had uncovered its extraordinary power: the ability to resurrect the dead. They envisioned a future where their city would rise, where they would be celebrated, their names etched in history.

Their reverie was broken by Thomas, their junior colleague. "We're ready."

"Okay," Luna breathed, her voice tight. "We can't fail this time."