For Real?

On the desolate battlefield, chaos reigned as Jargo the Demon carved his path through the carnage, leaving a trail of lifeless bodies strewn like discarded ants.

Standing at a towering two meters, his physique was as imposing as the raging storm; his skin draped in garments woven from animal hides, he emanated an aura of primal ferocity. His eyes blazed with a feral red, an insatiable thirst for blood driving him forward, while his four muscular arms wielded weapons of destruction. In each of his two hands, he gripped long, black spears adorned with intricate symbols, while a shield forged from dark energy pulsed ominously in one of his other hands, the last cradling a small orb that adiated golden rays, resembling a miniature sun.

The air crackled, thick with the metallic scent of blood as lifeless forms of both demons and humans littered the ground; Jargo showed no signs of relent. Yet, a sudden stillness overcame him as he paused, his gaze drawn to the heavens above. The battlefield echoed his silence, warriors ceasing their bloodshed to follow his intense stare.

Descending from the sky like a celestial meteor, a small metallic object hurtled towards them, igniting a wave of trepidation among the soldiers below, save for Jargo, who braced himself to confront this newcomer. As the object approached, it halted fifty meters above the ground in a flash of radiant golden light.

From this brilliance emerged a figure--a man clad in resplendent golden armor, his shine almost blinding. His hair, wispy and white as silver grass, contrasted sharply with his crimson eyes that sparkled with an unsettling confidence, a smirk dancing on his lips. In response, Jargo unleashed a thunderous roar that echoed through the air, shattering the very souls of those who heard it.

The atmosphere tensed, electrifying the moment as the armoured man extended his right hand sideways. In a twist of fate, his hand plunged into the air, pulling forth a magnificent golden spear, encrusted with fiery red gems and etched with mysterious symbols. Without a moment's hesitation, he drew his arm back and launched the spear directly at Jargo, setting the stage for an epic confrontation that would shake the ground beneath them.

In a moment ripe with tension, Jargo, his instincts tingling, hurled one of his own spears back at the approaching adversary.The two spears met in an explosive clash high above, shimmering like stars colliding, sending forth a dazzling spray of golden light and crackling blue sparks into the air.

Crack! Crack!

The very fabric of the sky seemed to shatter under the force, allowing beams of sunlight to pour down once more, illuminating the battlefield below. But in next moment,another spear raced toward the man clad golden armour, the two spears energies entwined and cascading into a cascade of sparks.

Seeing another spear comming his way ,man shrouded in ominous power, clasped his hands together in an elegant motion before parting them slowly. A black mirror, reflective and adorned with a kaleidoscope of rubies and gems, materialized before him. With a swift, deliberate motion, the spear dove into the depths of the mirror, vanishing as if swallowed by shadows.

Almost instantly, tth same mirror sprung forth behind the demon, and a replica of the spear reemerged,hurtling toward Jargo with lethal intent. Yet, it faltered, stopping just a breath away, as though halted by an unseen force.

Crack! Crack!

In this heartbeat, cracks began to spiderweb across Jargo's own invisible barrier, flickering like the last breaths of a dying star. The shield he employed melted into the air, merging with the barrier, and as if by some mystical grace,the fissures disappeared. The spear fractured into blue sparks, dissipating into nothingness.

As thinking the small play is over, the man elevated his right hand, an imperious gesture that

echoed through the air like a general rallying an army. In an instant, shimmering portals ignited around the colossal figure of Jargo,each pulsating with an otherworldly light.They multiplied in rapid succession-10,100.1,000—until a staggering 10,000 portals materialized, each one exuding a hailstorm of spears, glistening and vibrant with gems and amber, some radiant gold, others a deep obsidian, each darting forward like ravenous wolves on the hunt.

The man's arm remained steadfastly raised,

issuing the command for the spears to unleash their wrath upon Jargo. Like creatures desperately seeking sustenance,they flew towards him with ferocious speed.Yet as they closed the distance, they met an unseen barrier, some igniting into sparks while others flickered away into nothingness.

But the tension was far from over-cracks began to splinter the invisible wall, and with a fierce determination, one spear penetrated

the defense, landing in Jargo's grasp. He tried to crush it into dust, but just two heartbeats later, the wall shattered, releasing a torrential onslaught of spears that pierced the demonic behemoth's hulking form. Jargo's roar echoed, a pitiful sound of rage and pain, yet he stood immobile, suspended in the air like a marionette with cut strings.

The man, now just a heartbeat away from the wretched creature, noticed the miniature

sun-like object that once glowed so brightly in Jargo's hands had vanished. As suffocating darkness slithered across the world, he raised both hands, conjuring forth a titanic sword stretching a hundred meters long. Yet time was his enemy; the demon's body ignited with blinding light, consuming every shadow in its wake. The brilliance was so intense that the man had no choice but to close his eyes,surrendering to the impending twilight.

The air crackled with tension as the demon unleashed a final, chilling cry-yet instead of a fearsome roar, it sounded eerily like an

insistent alarm ringing through the air.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Caught in a whirlwind of confusion, the man

wrestled with thoughts of escape, but the

relentless noise transformed his bewilderment into raw frustration. His eyes snapped open,and his voice, gruff and laden with

exasperation, escaped his lips like a curse

cast into the void.

"Fuck."

Meanwhile, in a quiet room far removed from

the commotion, a 17-year-old boy lay

sprawled across his bed, his arms stretched

above his head, eyes gazing blankly at the

ceiling. Moments ticked by before he groggily rubbed the sleep from his face, stumbled to turn off the incessant alarm, and opened the window wide, allowing the gentle morning sunlight to seep in. Settling back onto his bed,he began to mutter incoherently to himself, caught between the remnants of dreams and the demands of the waking world.

"Man, I really need to stop reading this type of shit... but it isn't the big deal? No one knows me here. Just a little late to the game,but who cares? Just gotta play it cool, right?"

The words tumbled from his mind, but they were little more than distractions. Doubts clawed at him again, spiraling deeper.

"But what does being normal even mean? Am I normal? Is anyone? Damn it, just shut up for a minute! Breathe in, breathe out... just breathe....

With a determined exhale, he rose, stretchihi his limbs, and made his way toward the

bathroom. As he passed the staircase, a fleeting glance caught his eye, but he quickly pushed thoughts aside and stepped into the small sanctuary of tiles and porcelain. He took his time brushing his teeth, the minty taste refreshing him before indulging in an unusually long, soothing shower, the water washing away remnants of his restless night.

Once back in his room, a fresh determination flickered within him. With damp hair clinging to his forehead, he flicked through the hangers in his wardrobe, pulling out the crisp new school uniform. After wearing he caught his reflection in the full-body mirror. The boy staring back stood measuring a striking 1.8 meters, though his slender frame hinted at a history of neglecting healthy meals and workouts. His dark black hair fell across his forehead, partially obscuring his light brown eyes that sparkled with a tinge of hope. A hint of boyish charm glimmered in his features,surpassing the average yet yearning for recognition. Clad in a crisp white shirt embraced by a bold red blazer, gray trousers,and a matching tie, he wore a belt crafted from gray plastic threads adorned with two elegant white lines, bearing an emblem of an open book and quill-—the insignia of St.Anthony School.

"Is this really me?" he mused to himself, heart racing at the thrill of possibility. "If I try, I could really pull off some chicks on the first day!" But then the doubt crept in swiftly,racing through his mind-a whirlwind of confusion. "Whathaa fuck are you thinking?You already have someone! Im sorry,I'm really sorry., El.." he muttered, glancing at his disheveled hair before swinging on his black backpack, shoving his socks and phone into place.

As he bounded down the stairs into the warmth of the living room, a sight caught his gaze: three neatly prepared sandwiches awaited him on the dining table. His eyes flickered to the refrigerator where a note was plastered with heartfelt intent.

*"I have early work today, and I'm really sorry for not saying goodbye in person. Good luck on your first day at school; make friends!"*

It was from his aunt, though she may as well have been a figment of his own worries. He popped open the fridge and poured himself a glass of fruit juice, lowering himself into a chair as he savored his breakfast. Between bites, his fingers danced over his phone,checking the route to St. Anthony School.After finishing his meal and tidying up, he slid on his socks and polished black shoes, rising with a deep sigh that carried the weight of new beginnings.

The sky stretched blue above him, yet the sun seemed shy, lingering just beyond reach. He ventured through the small garden, pushing open the creaky metal gate behind him before turning left to step onto the street. With his phone in one hand and earbuds snug in his ears, he pressed play on his playlist as the notes wrapped around him like a comforting embrace.

As he walked, thoughts swirled-a belief

etched in his mind that this new place would feel foreign and exciting. But to his surprise,the city unfolded before him with a familiar rhythm: the towering buildings, the busy stores, and the ebb and flow of people

hustling on their daily quests, a mirror image of his hometown. Perhaps change wasn't as stark as he had imagined.

After a leisurely half-hour, he arrived at a

school, his destination, stopping just outside the grand entrance. But what truly captivated him wasn't the school itself-it was the forest looming in the distance. It lay a mere five kilometers away, its mass sprawling like an inviting secret, and he couldn't help but notice the stark contrast to the city's expanse;the land was open, with far fewer structures,reminiscent of a rustic charm.

'I'm definitely going there,' he mused with a spark of adventure igniting within him. As he crossed through the school's main gate, the scene before him unfolded-a lively

playground filled with students lounging and laughing, their voices mingling in a symphony of youth. The school building rose impressively, a six-story marvel with a unique silhouette against the sky. Glancing at his phone, he noted the time: 08:52.

Still eight minutes until class starts... now,

where can I find the admission office?'

As he navigated the bustling campus in

search of the admission office, his eyes fell upon a man in his late forties, standing a few meters to his right. Dressed in a dark blue

uniform, the man appeared to be observing the stream of students flowing by like a river.

With a touch of uncertainty, he approached the stranger and inquired, "Where's the

admission office?"

The man turned his gaze upon him for a

fleeting second, then pointed in the direction

of a door. "Over there," he said simply.

He followed the man's gaze towards a ground floor room, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

"Oookyy," he murmured to himself,steeling his resolve as he made his way to the office.

Upon stepping inside, he was greeted by a

young man in his mid-twenties, clad in a black shirt and blue jeans, who was absorbed in a phone conversation, his back turned to the entrance. Suddenly, the school bell rang out with a series of sharp chimes-Tring! Tring!Tring!

It was a clarion call for students to head to

class. The young man turned his head, seeing the boy silhouetted against the sunlight filtering through the window. He paused his call, begrudgingly pulled his chair forward,and raised his eyebrow, silently questioning the boy's purpose.

"Need my identification card," the boy stated,a hint of urgency in his voice.

The man, caught off guard, asked, "New

admission or did you lose it?"

With a steady determination, the boy replied,

"New admission."

The man nodded, his expression shifting to one of understanding as he requested the boy's name and his admission receipt. The boy nodded again, rummaging through his backpack and retrieving a light green receipt that glimmered like a promise. He handed it over with a hopeful smile.

The man scrutinized the receipt against the register, and after a brief search, his face lit up as he unearthed the ID card. He passed it along with the receipt, pointing towards the stairs with a flourish, saying, "Third floor,

second room.

Grateful, the boy thanked him and exited, his

heart racing with excitement.

As he walked towards the staircase, he noted with slight trepidation the eerie stillness surrounding him-the hallway deserted, the echo of his footsteps the only sound.

Ascending to the third floor, he soon found

himself before a door marked "Class 11th B."

With a mixture of trepidation and

determination, he inhaled deeply, summoning the courage to knock on the door. Moments later, it creaked open, revealing a girl clad in a crisp white shirt and a gray skirt, mirroring his own uniform. Her ponytail swayed as she regarded him with a curious glint in her eyes.

A shy smile crept across his face in response. Nearby, the teacher, an authority figure perched by the blackboard, glanced towards the entrance before instructing the girl to return to her seat. Realizing the new arrival was a fresh face in the classroom, he strode forward to welcome him

.

"New admission?" the teacher Inquiried, his voice infused with professional warmth.

The boy nodded, a simple yet affirming "yes"escaping his lips. Encouraged, the teacher gestured for him to introduce himself.

Standing before the blackboard, he prepared

to unveil his name and origin; however, his

attention was snagged by a student nestled at the back of the room. This boy was an

enigma, his tousled black hair suggesting he had rolled out of bed just moments before. He stared vacantly out the window, seemingly lost in a world of his own.

"Why is this guy acting like he owns the story?the boy thought, a wave of confusion washing over him.'Am I not the one supposed to be in the spotlight here?' He felt a spark of frustration rising. But just as quickly, he chastised himself. "No need to spiral- perhaps it was merely an oversight by the author or the dawn of a new storytelling trend. Calm down", he reminded himself.

With a deep breath, he introduced himself to the class. The teacher urged the students to be welcoming and guided him to a seat

nestled in the middle row, last bench.

Reluctantly, he approached, plopping down beside the boy who had piqued his interest just moments before. As the teacher resumed the lesson, he reached into his bag, pulling out a book, ready to lose himself in its pages.

. ........

With a jolt of disbelief, he murmured aloud,"Wait, what!! Is this the... end?" As the clock ticked towards 3:30 PM, he slid through the front door, his sanctuary. The familiar scent of his old home wrapped around him, drawing him back to routine. Without missing a beat,he sank into his favorite chair, the one that had molded to his form, and lost himself in an online novel, a comforting ritual despite the change of scenery. Yet, he soon found himself gripping the edges of his laptop as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut: the story he had cherished was drawing to a premature close-a conclusion he had never anticipated. "Fucking fuck!! There's still so much left!" he cursed, frustration spilling from his lips.

Minutes melted away as his mind wandered deep into reflection, tracing his journey with the book. He recalled the first time he

stumbled upon the gritty tale, a tale spun

around a cruel protagonist who traversed the

dark alleys of an unforgiving world, doing

whatever it took to achieve his desires. As the memories of the last two months flowed

through him, thoughts raced like a raging river in his mind.

True, he'd known the novel was banned, an inexplicable silence ensconcing its pages, but now the reasons crystallized like ice before him.

What was left for him now but to hope for the day when the ban would lift and the author would return to weave their words once

more? Just then, the shrill ping of his

cellphone snapped him from his reverie, the

reality crashing back in.

With cautious fingers, he unfurled the screen to find a message from his aunt: "Sorry, I'm coming home late because of a friend's

birthday party."

He read her words, offering a simple "ok" in

reply.

He glanced at the clock-7:30 PM Joomed over him like a watchful guardian. A pang of hunger gnawed at his insides, yet the idea of cooking seemed an insurmountable task. Instead, he recalled the small store he'd spotted on his way to school just that morning and decided snacks would suffice.

He changed into black pants and a loose, light blue t-shirt, the triangular print catching the fading light through his window. Slipping into his comfy house slippers, he made his way downstairs, pushing the front door open.

"It really is dark outside."

The night enveloped the city like a thick,

suffocating blanket, the only illumination

coming from flickering streetlights that cast ghostly shadows on the pavement. He ambled through the darkness, his footsteps echoing softly against the cold ground, soon catching sight of a little haven - the warm glow of a store's lights beckoning him closer.

Just before he reached the safety of those lights, he inadvertently wandered past a narrowalleyway, where trash bins loomed like sentinels of decay. A faint cry pierced the

stillness, sending a shiver down his spine, but he shrugged it off, attributing it to his

overactive imagination.

"Or not" Yet the failing logic of his reason was no match for the lure of curiosity that tugged at him. "Maybe this is what they say" he thought, as he switched on the flashlight of his phone, its weak beam slicing through the murky gloom.

As he ventured deeper into the alley, a wave of foul odor assaulted his senses, forcing him to cover his nose with his free hand. With

each cautious step deeper into the abyss, the darkness grew thicker, almost alive, and he could hear the rhythmic sound of his own footsteps reverberating in the confined space. But soon, a different sound broke through - heavier, more ominous. He paused,listening intently as the approaching footsteps mirrored his own. He noticed the alleyway connecting to right were probably the sound of footsteps comming from.

He thought after comming this close he wanted to see this shit to the end and about take one step but, the echoing sounds stopped, leaving a chilling silence in their wake.

And now From the encroaching shadows, a figure materialized. A blady man appeared to be in his late twenties, draped in black fabric that nearly swallowed him whole. A grim

expression marred his features, suggesting he was locked in a violent internal battle. Before he could react, rough hands seized him . A vice-like grip encircled his neck as he was thrust painfully against the damp brick wall.Panic surged through him as he caught sight of two more silhouettes slipping out from the right alley, their faces obscured by the inky darkness. The grip around his neck tightened,and a cold steel blade pressed against his throbbing skin.

Reality slammed into him with devastating

clarity; it all happened so quickly that his mind was a tornado of confusion. In that terrifying instant, he understood - he was utterly trapped, and all his instincts screamed that he was in grave danger.

The dark alley held secrets that he would never uncover, and he was about to become part of them. In an instant, time unraveled as he found himself engulfed in a chaos he could neither process nor escape. The realization of his grave mistake loomed over him, a dark cloud whispering of impending doom.

"Why are you chasing me all the way to here?Didn't I tell you everything I know?" The blady man's voice reverberated through the night,his fervor mingling with fear.

"Yeah! Yeah, why are you chasing him? Just

leave him alone!" Anxiety flooded the

teenager's mind, urging him to speak, yet his

voice remained trapped, silenced by terror.

From the shadows, a voice emerged, cold

and calculated, "You told us everything? Then we're here just for show. If you had already spilled your secrets, we wouldn't be wasting our time on you."

Confusion gnawed at him; didn't they see he

was merely an ordinary kid caught in

extraordinary circumstances? His urge to

scream at the man clutching him-demanding

he comply, pleading for freedom-was stifled.

"I'm telling you! I'm going to kill this kid! Don't come any closer!"

The threat hung in the air,the man's grip tightening as the cold blade grazed his skin. Panic surged like wildfire within him. Yet, undeterred by the menace,the second man advanced, illuminating the darkness with the dim beam of a fallen phone. In that fleeting moment, he recognized the familiar face-a boy who once sat in the protagonist's seat, now transformed with polished hair and piercing eyes.

Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, the silence shattered like glass. T gunshots reverberated from the shadows,striking down both the man who held him captive and the boy who fought valiantly fo his life. They tumbled to the ground, robbes of their voices. The figures in black suits found refuge behind the walls, hearts racin as they processed the scene unfolding. A faint gasp broke through the silence, the dying boy's last breath-a whisper of defeat.

Thi.is.i.t.." And with that, life ebbed away. The end .