Vanguard Legacy University – South Dorm Hall EThe air in the common room felt thick, like grief had taken a seat and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.
The muted flicker of phone screens illuminated twelve faces, all staring at the same breaking news. The volume was down, but the message was loud.
"Bodycam footage released in the fatal shooting of 22-year-old Elijah Moore…"
Another name. Another life lost. Another video they wished they hadn't seen.
The camera shook. The footage was grainy. But the scream—short and cut off—was crystal clear.
Tiana Brooks sat forward, arms on her knees, her notebook lying forgotten at her side. Her lips were pressed so tight they barely moved when she spoke.
"He was a Sociology major. Same as me. Did community work in D.C. Ran open mics at his church."
Imani Fields, who sat beside her on the couch, stared at her tea cup like she might fall into it. "He could've been any of us."
Jamal "Jay" Carter paced by the window, jaw tight. "He was one of us."
The air conditioner hummed above them, but it might as well have been a funeral organ.
Marcus "Lil Red" Freeman leaned against the wall near the fridge, his fists clenched. He didn't say anything at first. Just stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed him.
Then finally: "I'm tired of hashtags. I'm tired of vigils. I'm tired of candles and promises."
Ayana Thomas, ever the calm one, rubbed her temples. "We hold space, we organize, we cry, and the world keeps turning like nothing happened."
Devontae "Tae" Miller, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, closed his laptop slowly. His coding assignment forgotten. "It's like shouting into a void. A loop we never break."
In the far corner of the room, in a haze of strawberry Kush and existentialism, Tyrone "Ty" Green exhaled deeply. The smoke curled from his mouth like a sigh from a tired soul.
"You know what I think?" he said, leaning back with a lazy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No, but I'm sure we're gonna hear it anyway," said Keisha Vaughn, rolling her eyes.
Ty smirked. "I think Earth is just the tutorial stage. All these messed-up quests, broken NPCs, no cheat codes. Just pain and vibes."
Lamont "Monty" Davis, sitting with a chessboard on his lap, tapped a bishop against his chin. "Tutorials are supposed to teach you something."
"Exactly," Ty replied. "And we still here getting our asses kicked on Level One."
Zaire chuckled quietly from where he sat in a circle of dog-eared mythology books. "Man's got a point."
Jay finally stopped pacing. "What are you saying, Ty?"
"I'm sayin'," Ty said, spreading his arms wide, "we throw a party. Not for the world. Not for Twitter. Just for us. One night to feel good. To be Black and brilliant and alive. They already took enough from us."
Silence.
Dani Lewis, who had been curled up in the corner scribbling in her nature journal, looked up. "A party? After all this?"
"Yeah," Ty said, suddenly serious. "Because they want us to mourn and march. They don't expect us to celebrate. So let's shock the system."
Jay opened his mouth to argue, but Tiana beat him to it.
"One night," she said quietly. "Not to forget. But to breathe."
"I'll DJ," Tae said. "Just let me load up the trap-meets-fantasy playlist I've been working on."
Keisha raised an eyebrow. "Trap meets fantasy?"
"Trust," he said, grinning. "It's like if Kendrick produced Lord of the Rings."
Jay finally exhaled, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Fine. But it's just us. No guests. No trouble."
"A healing circle with speakers and liquor," Ayana said, smiling faintly. "Let's do it."
Later That Night – 11:48 PMThe party wasn't wild. It was sacred.
Purple LEDs lit the walls like neon halos. The smell of soul food and essential oils mixed in the air. The sound system bumped with layered beats and ethereal melodies, curated by Tae and mixed live by Ty, who wove in samples from Black spirituals over trap drums.
Keisha transformed the space with thrifted tapestries and glitter filters from her phone. Zaire lit a circle of candles around the perimeter, each inscribed with Adinkra symbols.
Tiana took the mic and spit a poem about joy being rebellion. Imani twirled barefoot, her laughter ringing out like bells.
Even Jay cracked a smile.
They drank. They danced. They laughed so loud it hurt in the best way. For a few precious hours, they weren't fighting for dignity—they were living it.
And then...
It went wrong.
A loud shout from the kitchen.
A shoving match.
Someone from another dorm—invited by a "friend of a friend." Anger, beer, broken glass. Marcus stepped in, fists raised. Jay was at his side, voice booming with authority.
"OUT. ALL OF YOU. NOW."
Keisha turned off the music. Ty locked the door.
Just the twelve remained.
The silence afterward felt heavier than before the party. Like something sacred had been violated.
00:13 AM – The TransmigrationAs they cleaned, something shifted.
The TV flickered, then shut off.
The lights dimmed.
All their phones—dead at once.
"What the hell?" Shaniqua muttered. She'd been sitting near a wall charger, debugging code on her tablet. "Power surge?"
Monty looked up, eyes narrowing. "Y'all hear that?"
The hum was low. Electric. Subsonic. The kind of sound you feel in your bones more than your ears.
The air shimmered above the center rug. Lines of glowing light drew themselves midair—circular, moving with intention. A spiral of gold and silver sigils floated like ancient software booting up.
"Yo. That ain't a Wi-Fi issue," Ty said, backing up.
A sphere of light expanded from the center of the room.
Tae's eyes widened. "Guys—this is like a magic array. Like... a teleportation circle."
"That's not real," Imani whispered. "It can't be."
"Real or not, it's happening," Jay said, grabbing Tiana's arm.
Suddenly, gravity dropped.
They weren't pulled up or down, but inward—as if the world collapsed around them.
Twelve screams. Twelve blinding lights. And then—
Silence.
The New WorldThey landed hard.
Grass beneath them was cool and damp. The sky above was impossibly vast—black, shot with nebula-like colors and two crescent moons glowing with pale blue fire.
"Tell me I didn't die," Dani murmured.
"Either we're dead," Zaire said, "or very, very far from Alabama."
Twelve glowing screens appeared above them.
They hovered like floating HUDs, each tailored to their soul.
Name: Jamal "Jay" Carter
Profession: Strategist
Skill: Tactical Genius (Passive)
Affinity: Mind
Special Trait: Charisma Aura (inspires allies)
Name: Tiana Brooks
Profession: Bard
Skill: Voice of Resonance
Affinity: Sound and Light
Name: Devontae "Tae" Miller
Profession: Mechanist (Unique Class)
Skill: Mana Forge
Affinity: Earth and Lightning
Name: Imani Fields
Profession: Alchemist
Skill: Life Transmutation
Affinity: Nature and Water
Name: Marcus "Lil Red" Freeman
Profession: Brawler
Skill: Muscle Memory
Affinity: Fire
Name: Ayana Thomas
Profession: Healer
Skill: Soul Mend
Affinity: Light and Spirit
Name: Zaire Jackson
Profession: Summoner (Ancestral Type)
Skill: Invoke Ancestor Spirits
Affinity: Dark and Light
Name: Keisha Vaughn
Profession: Illusionist
Skill: Mirror Veil
Affinity: Shadow and Wind
Name: Tyrone "Ty" Green
Profession: Sound Mage
Skill: Rhythm Pulse
Affinity: Sound and Thunder
Name: Shaniqua Evans
Profession: Arcane Coder (Unique Class)
Skill: Sigil Hack
Affinity: Arcane
Name: Lamont "Monty" Davis
Profession: Sage
Skill: Future Sight
Affinity: Time
Name: Danielle "Dani" Lewis
Profession: Beast Tamer
Skill: Naming Bond
Affinity: Nature
In the distance, something howled.
The ground trembled.
Jay stepped forward instinctively, placing himself between the group and the dark treeline.
"Everyone stay together."
Tae scanned the horizon. "What is this place?"
"Somewhere we ain't supposed to be," Marcus said, fists glowing faintly red.
"But maybe," Ty whispered, eyes lighting up with something wild, "somewhere we're meant to change everything."
The wind stirred.
And so began the legend of twelve from the hood... reborn in a world where their magic—like their pain—ran deep.