Chapter 1 – Prologue
The hum of Ethan's laptop fan faded as he closed it with a soft snap. Evening light spilled through the blinds, striping his room in pale orange.
On the bed, Jacob was sprawled out like he owned the place, one leg dangling, phone glowing in his hand. "You sit too stiff, man. Like you're waiting to get interviewed.
Across from him, Freddie only adjusted his posture in the desk chair, back straight as ever. His travel bag leaned quietly against the leg of the chair, a silent reminder of tomorrow. "Old habits," he said. "I won't be here long anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow remember?."
Ethan spun halfway in his swivel chair, a lopsided smile tugging at his face. "Right. Back to Arcanis Academy. Place of geniuses and prodigies. Meanwhile, Jacob and I get to settle for West Bridge."
Freddie didn't rise to the bait, but his calm reply was steady. "West Bridge isn't bad."
"Not bad," Ethan echoed, letting the words hang. "That's like saying soggy fries aren't bad. Sure. But you'd rather have the good ones."
Jacob snorted from the bed. "At least we don't have to pretend to love three-hour lectures from robot professors."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Robot professors?"
"Arcanis," Jacob said with a shrug. "I'm guessing they're fifty years ahead of us. Probably got androids teaching advanced math by now."
For the first time, Freddie's lips twitched into the faintest smile, but he didn't add anything. He rarely did when it came to Arcanis Academy. No stories. No names. No details. Almost as if the place wasn't meant to be spoken about.
Ethan noticed, but he let it pass. Not tonight.
Instead, he leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "So. Tomorrow you leave. Two days later, Jacob and I are gone too. Goodbye high school."
"Goodbye free time," Jacob muttered.
Freddie's quiet smile lingered, unreadable as ever. "You'll both be fine."
The next morning, Freddie was gone. His suitcase wheels had clicked across the driveway, a quick wave thrown over his shoulder, and then silence.
A day later, one more day for it to be Jacob and Ethan's turn. His bags were already waiting by the door when his mom leaned into his room that afternoon.
"Ethan, can you run to the store and grab a few things?"
He groaned from his chair. "I'm officially a college student tomorrow. Doesn't that give me immunity from errands?"
"Not until you're paying the bills," she said, smiling as she disappeared down the hall.
So he went. The sun was warm on his face, the kind of clear day that made everything feel almost too ordinary. Earbuds in, hands stuffed into his pockets, Ethan walked with the unsteady excitement of someone caught between childhood and whatever came next.
The bell over the grocery store door jingled as he stepped inside. Cool air brushed against his skin, carrying the smells of bread, detergent, and something faintly sweet. Families moved slowly through the aisles, carts squeaking. A toddler whined for candy. Two teenagers argued half-heartedly over which cereal to buy.
Normal. Completely, painfully normal.
Ethan grabbed a basket and moved through the shelves, tossing in what was on the list. A loaf of bread. A carton of milk. Some snacks for the road. He hummed absently, already thinking about the next morning, the trip, West Bridge.
Then the air cracked.
"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!"
The words slammed across the store like thunder. The automatic doors had burst open. Three figures in masks, guns raised. Shouts tore through the air as shoppers screamed and dropped, carts clattering, glass shattering on tile.
Ethan's heart leapt into his throat. He ducked behind a stacked display of water bottles, breath coming sharp and uneven. The world narrowed to the pounding in his ears.
One of the gunmen barked orders, pacing through the aisles. Shelves rattled as people scrambled. A mother pulled her child close, shielding him with shaking arms. Someone sobbed into the floor tiles.
Ethan's eyes darted around, searching, desperate. Then he saw it—an emergency exit at the back of the store, glowing faintly in red. His chest tightened. That was it. His chance.
He pressed himself lower, inching along the floor. Each movement felt impossibly loud, his shoes scuffing against tile. His palms were slick with sweat. The shouting filled his head, but the exit was all he could see.
Closer. Almost there.
His fingers brushed the metal bar. The door gave way, spilling a slice of sunlight across his face.
Freedom. So close he could almost breathe it.
"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"
The gunshot came like a hammer.
White-hot pain tore through his stomach. His knees buckled, basket tumbling from his hand. The world tilted, then dropped away entirely.
The sound of the gunshot still echoed when the world began to dim. Ethan's vision blurred at the edges, colors draining, the ceiling lights above shrinking into distant stars. His breath caught in his throat, shallow, fading.
Am I… dying?
Darkness rushed in.
Then—light.
Ethan gasped and lurched upright, air tearing into lungs that weren't really there. He stumbled back, blinking hard. The store was in chaos—paramedics rushing, voices shouting—but none of them touched him. They couldn't.
His body lay crumpled on the pavement outside the store, blood stains spreading across his shirt.
He raised trembling hands. They shimmered faintly, almost translucent.
"No… no, no, no…" His voice cracked, though no one seemed to hear it. "I'm… dead?"
The world no longer looked the same. The air shimmered with strange currents, flickering like heat waves. Shadows stretched unnaturally long across the ground, writhing as if alive. From those shadows, shapes began to crawl out.
Figures. Crooked, jagged, wrong. They weren't human—weren't anything he had words for. Their eyes burned faintly, hollow and hungry.
"Ghosts…" The word slipped from his mouth before he could stop it.
One of them lunged forward, its movement impossibly fast, its force splitting the air. Ethan flinched, stumbling back, but it didn't come for him.
Because someone else was already there.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
The voice cracked through the street, firm and commanding. A man surged into view, cloak snapping at his heels. His hand struck the ground, and the earth answered.
Stone erupted upward in jagged spears, slamming into the creature mid-charge. It howled, staggering under the barrage. The man pressed forward without hesitation, another gesture sending rocks crashing down like a storm.
Each strike shattered more of the monster until, with a final cry, it dissolved into nothingness—vanished, as though it had never been.
Ethan stood frozen, wide-eyed, his mind scrambling to catch up with what he'd just witnessed. His legs felt like they didn't belong to him anymore.
The man turned. His gaze found Ethan instantly, sharp and unyielding.
For a beat, his expression shifted—shock flickering across his face.
"You…" His eyes narrowed, studying Ethan with unnerving precision. "You're a ghost. But… not corrupted."
Ethan's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He took a step back, chest tight, trying to make sense of anything—everything.
The man tilted his head, exhaling slowly as his features softened into something closer to curiosity.
"No hostility. Just a clueless kid."
Then came the faintest curve of a smile, deliberate and unsettling.
"Well then…" His voice dropped lower, almost testing the words. "Care for a lecture?"