The morning sun blazed overhead, but Alden barely noticed. The heat, though fierce, felt distant muffled beneath a rising pressure in his chest, like the world itself was holding its breath.
As he walked with his friends into the school, their usual banter echoed around him like voices from behind a wall.
"Bro, did you hear there's a new security guard?" Paulo asked, adjusting his backpack straps like he was suiting up for combat.
"Great," Ceasar muttered, hurriedly buttoning his polo shirt. "Another reason to panic when we're five minutes late."
"Alden doesn't need to worry," Jerson chimed in. "Guy's like a soldier. Probably has a time bomb for an alarm clock!"
Laughter followed. Except from Alden.
He smiled faintly, but his eyes were elsewhere. Because he hadn't been woken by any alarm.
It was the dream.
*Darkness. A sky churning with ash-colored clouds. An ancient ruin, revealed through the mist like a buried memory clawing its way back. At its center, a green light pulsed like a heartbeat. Then came the voice: "Protect him... no matter where he ends up... no matter what happens to the world... keep him safe."*
He'd woken gasping, drenched in sweat. The dream lingered—not just in his mind, but in his very bones.
Now, as they passed through the school gates, that unease clung to him like smoke. Not screaming, but persistent. Waiting.
---
**Morning Class - Science: Nature's Power**
Ma'am Leslie stood at the front of the classroom, sipping coffee like it was her lifeline.
"Good morning, class!" she greeted, eyes sharp despite the caffeine. "Today we're having a quiz... inside your brains. If you didn't bring your brains, use your notes!"
Laughter burst from the room. Students thumped their desks like drums in a tribal ritual.
Alden remained quiet, fingers resting on yesterday's folder—the one with his hand-drawn photosynthesis chart. His fingertips trembled slightly, a subtle vibration he couldn't explain.
"Group presentations!" Ma'am barked. "If your drawing's ugly, I'll give it to the janitor. If it's beautiful, I'll submit it to the Art Fest, even if our principal thinks creativity's a budget hazard."
Team Photosynthesis stood proud. Camille lifted their visual aid: a vibrant diagram, sunbeams flowing toward lush green leaves, the arrows dancing like light on water.
"Ma'am, we are Team PhotosynthiTEETH," Ceasar declared with a grin. "Because we all have teeth and we know how to smile!"
Even though it was cringe, everyone laughed.
But Alden's eyes were fixed on the golden beam drawn between the sun and the leaf. In his mind, it shimmered. Unnaturally vivid.
A sharp pulse struck his temple.
*Something wants in... or something wants to come back.*
He murmured without thinking, "The energy from the sun... it doesn't just flow through plants. Sometimes, it flows through people too. Like memories that return."
Camille blinked. "Memories? Like... déjà vu?"
Their eyes met.
"Yeah," Alden whispered. "Like I'm not sure if I've seen it before... or if I'm supposed to find it."
---
**Lunch Break, Under the Tree**
Their usual table beneath the old acacia tree groaned under their weight. Cracked wood, termite-bitten corners, and a faint smell of soy sauce—but it was theirs.
"Pancit canton again," Jerson groaned, stirring his noodles. "My blood's probably soy sauce now."
"What flavor?" Cheryl teased. "Calamansi or the kind that burns your soul?"
"I'm Pancit D. Canton," Ceasar announced proudly. "Cool under pressure, I'm gonna be king of the noodles!"
"Cringe," Paulo muttered, laughing. "Keep that up and Ma'am Leslie'll deep-fry you on the chalkboard."
Everyone laughed. Alden smiled faintly, but his gaze kept drifting to Camille.
She was laughing too, flushed from the heat or the teasing. A noodle clung to her chin like a badge of honor.
Cheryl leaned in and whispered, "Alden's totally watching you. Maybe he wants to taste your adobo that you cooked with feelings."
"Shut up," Camille blushed, cheeks turning deep crimson.
Their eyes met again. The spark unspoken remained.
---
**Afternoon - The Shift**
Dismissal should've been loud and rowdy. But something was off.
Laughter faded. Pranks stopped. A creeping quiet settled in, like the whole building was listening.
The light dimmed—not from clouds, but from a smoky haze that slipped into the hallways like mist. The air grew heavy. Dense.
Alden felt it. A pressure. A pull. A warning.
Near the stairwell, his friends stood frozen in place.
"Do you feel that?" Paulo whispered. "It's like the air is... breathing."
"My skin's crawling," Camille muttered, gripping her bag tighter.
Their teacher, Ma'am Ailyn, was nowhere in sight. No explanation. No announcement.
Then—
*CRAAAAASH!!*
Glass exploded. Not just shattered detonated.
Slow motion. Beautiful. Terrifying.
Each falling shard reflected something unnatural. Inside every fragment, a silhouette. Tiny, fetal shadows curled within, squirming as though trapped in pain... or rage.
As the glass hit the floor, they emerged.
Liquid shadow spilled out, crawling, slithering. No light. No reflection. They weren't casting shadows—they *were* the shadows.
Some slithered up lockers. Others crawled across ceilings.
The building trembled. Ceiling panels crashed down. Fluorescent lights burst in sparks. Tiles cracked under invisible weight.
Students screamed some fell, others fled in blind panic. A few staggered, bleeding from thin gashes or strange burns where the shadows brushed them.
*"WAAAAAAH!!"*
*"Heeelpp!!"*
A girl shrieked as her skirt caught fire. A boy collapsed, clutching his leg as smoke rose from his skin.
Panic turned into chaos.
Alden's heartbeat thundered in his chest. Then everything slowed.
His vision sharpened. His breath came out like steam. A golden light flickered beneath his skin, faint but rising.
Something inside him was awakening.
"RUN!" he roared. "Don't look back! GO!"
"BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU?!" Camille screamed.
"I'LL FOLLOW! I PROMISE!"
"You better—" She didn't finish. Cheryl pulled her back, dragging her down the stairwell.
---
**Alden Stayed**
Three shadows lunged at him from different angles.
Instinctively, he grabbed a broken chair leg and swung it with all his strength but it passed straight through one of them like smoke. No resistance. No impact. Just an icy chill that clung to his skin.
Another shadow swept in low and fast. Alden raised his arm to block—
Too late.
Dark claws raked across his forearm. Burning pain flared. Blood spattered the tiles.
He staggered back, breathing hard. "Why can't I hurt them...?" he whispered.
But he forced the panic down. He had to stay on his feet. He had to protect someone even if he didn't fully understand why.
Above him, a shadow slithered across the ceiling. It dropped.
He turned too late.
*WHAM!*
The impact slammed him into a row of chairs with a metallic crunch. Pain exploded across his ribs as he crumpled to the floor.
Still, he pushed himself up, trembling but defiant.
"They're not real..." he muttered, as though saying it would make it true.
But the sting of his wounds told him otherwise.
One shadow began to twist, its liquid face forming something close to a grin.
Cornered, bloodied, Alden clenched his fists. He didn't know how to fight them. He didn't even know what they were.
But he wasn't going to run. Not anymore.
Then—
**Something Massive Descended**
Red eyes. A voice echoing in two tones male and female. Old. Hungry.
"I did not expect special blood to still flow in this age... I thought they were only in legend..."
"What are you talking about?!" Alden shouted, stumbling back.
"A pure Maharlika?! Hahaha, it's real... a real deal. My first time seeing one," the shadow hissed, swelling. "A soul like yours holds power beyond measure. If I take it now, the shadows will rise and never fear the light again!"
Tendrils of darkness writhed around it.
Alden stood his ground. "Looks like I can't run anymore."
Unseen beneath his uniform, a glowing symbol flickered on his chest.
He raised his fists—not to fight, but to defend.
The shadow lunged, its arm forming a long, black spear—
*BOOOOOM!!*
The hallway erupted in blinding flash. A deafening boom shook the walls. Lockers flew from their bolts. Glass exploded outward in every direction.
The shadows screeched, burning under the light.
Then, from the smoke a figure stepped forward.
Tall. Broad. Calm. Eyes glowing with electric blue light. Tattoos crawling across his arms like living circuits. His coat flared no wind, only power.
"Step away from the boy," he said. Voice like thunder wrapped in control.
The shadow flinched. "Those tattoos... You... You're a Kalasag! How?! Your people aren't supposed to exist anymore!"
The man shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care."
Alden stood frozen. One word echoed in his mind: *Kalasag.*
Suddenly, the dream returned. A woman bleeding, reaching for him: *"I love you... always, my child."* And then, turning to the man beside her: *"Remember what you promised, Kalasag."*
Alden gasped, clutching his side.
The man stepped forward and the hallway became a warzone.
Broken glass pulsed with dark energy. More shadows slithered out, reshaping, snarling.
The man stomped. Each step shattered the corrupted shards, unleashing piercing howls. His tattoos blazed brighter.
"I hope this ends quickly," he muttered.
Then he charged.
*BOOM.*
The floor cracked beneath his weight. With one punch, the shadow leader flew crashing through three concrete walls.
Alden stood frozen. Breathless.
And deep inside him, something stirred. Something powerful. Something waiting.
But the word that left his mouth was: "Sir Jonas?!"one punch, the shadow leader flew crashing through three concrete walls.
Alden stood frozen. Breathless.
And deep inside him, something stirred. Something powerful. Something waiting.
But the word that left his mouth was: "Sir Jonas?!"