The morning sun glowed faintly over the glass rooftops of Louse International High School, one of the few schools still standing after the city's great reconstruction. Holographic advertisements flickered in the distance, projecting slogans about peace, unity, and progress — things that never really reached the hearts of ordinary students like Johnrey Calden.
Inside classroom 2-B, the air was still except for the quiet hum of the ceiling fans. Rows of floating desks projected faint blue lights, each displaying digital notes on ancient history.
And in the middle of the room, a boy with messy red hair slept with his face buried in his folded arms.
"...zzz…"
The teacher, Mr. Verren, stopped writing on the holographic board and slowly turned around. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the sleeping boy — the same boy who'd been late three times this week, forgot his ID twice, and once brought instant noodles into class.
"Johnrey…" the teacher said in a low, warning tone.
No response.
Mr. Verren sighed deeply, grabbed a piece of digital chalk, and flicked it with precision.
Thwack!
"Gah—!" Johnrey yelped, flinching as the chalk hit his forehead. His chair tipped backward, and he crashed onto the floor with a loud thud!
Laughter burst across the classroom.
"Johnrey Calden!" the teacher barked. "Sleeping in class again? If history bores you so much, you can reflect on it outside! Take two water buckets — and don't spill them this time!"
Johnrey rubbed his forehead, his cheeks burning red. "Y-Yes, sir… I'm sorry, sir…" he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
The class giggled as he shuffled toward the door, clutching two metallic buckets filled with cold water. The teacher sighed and returned to the board.
Outside, Johnrey stood in the corridor, his head drooping.
"Why is life so hard?" he muttered. "All I wanted was a nap…"
He sighed and stared out the window. The city skyline shimmered with light, but to him, it looked dull and gray. Everyone else is so good at something. And me? I can't even stay awake in class without becoming a joke.
By the time the final bell rang, the halls filled with the echo of students chatting and laughter. Mr. Verren stepped out and looked at Johnrey, who was now sitting beside the buckets, doodling on his holo-notepad.
"I hope you learned your lesson, Johnrey," the teacher said sternly.
Johnrey stood up quickly. "Y-Yes, sir! I promise, no more sleeping!"
"We'll see," Mr. Verren muttered before walking away.
As cleaning time began, Johnrey joined in with a mop. One of his classmates, a tall boy with dyed yellow hair, smirked. "Hey, loser Johnrey, throw this bag into the trash bin outside."
"Ah… okay, after I finish wiping this part," Johnrey said softly.
The tall boy rolled his eyes and laughed. "Sure thing, sleepyhead."
Johnrey finished cleaning quietly. When he looked up, the classroom was empty. He checked the digital clock on the wall — 5:50 PM.
"Eh? Already this late?" he murmured. "Guess I lost track again…"
He grabbed his bag and stretched. "Time to go home."
Outside, the evening sky burned orange. Hovering vehicles glided past the roads below, leaving faint blue trails in the air. Johnrey stopped by a convenience store and bought a few snacks — chips, soda, and his favorite pudding cup.
When he stepped outside, he slipped on a wet spot near the door and fell flat on his back.
"Ah! Ow ow ow…" he groaned, rubbing his tailbone. "S-sorry! I'm okay!"
The store clerk peeked out and nodded awkwardly. "You should watch your step, kid."
Johnrey stood up quickly, his face red. "S-So embarrassing…" he mumbled, clutching his bag and walking faster.
But just as he turned the corner of a dimly lit street, a loud screech echoed through the air.
SCREEEECH!
The sound of metal colliding followed — CRASH!
Johnrey froze. His heart started pounding. "Wh-What was that!?"
He crouched behind a holo-ad pillar and peeked around the corner. Two sleek cars had collided at an intersection — one black, one silver.
Men in suits jumped out immediately, their movements sharp and practiced. One of them, wearing a dark tuxedo, shouted, "Miss Marianne, are you hurt!?"
A young woman stepped out of the silver car, brushing strands of violet hair from her face. She wore a flowing purple dress and held what looked like a metallic staff in one hand.
"I'm fine," she replied calmly, but her eyes darted nervously toward the other end of the street.
Another vehicle pulled up — a white armored car with a large symbol "V" painted on its side. Doors opened, and several men stepped out, wearing white tactical suits and wielding sleek black laser rifles.
Red lights flickered along the barrels.
"Target confirmed," one of them said coldly. "Eliminate the girl. Retrieve the box."
The first bodyguard shouted, "Protect Miss Marianne!" He aimed his own plasma pistol and fired.
Zap! Zap! Zap!
Bright blue lasers streaked through the air, lighting the dark street.
Johnrey yelped and ducked down, covering his ears. "A-Are those lasers?! I-I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!"
He trembled behind a garbage bin as the firefight raged. The ground sizzled from stray beams.
"Miss Marianne! This way!" shouted one of the black-suited guards.
Marianne nodded, clutching a small silver box in her hand. "Don't let them near this!"
One of the men in white shouted, "Focus fire! We can't lose that artifact!"
Johnrey peeked again — just in time to see one of Marianne's guards fall to the ground, smoke rising from his chest. The man coughed weakly, blood at the corner of his lips. "M-Miss Marianne… protect the box…" His voice faded as he went still.
Marianne's eyes widened. "No…!"
Johnrey's whole body shook. W-What am I seeing? Is this real? I-I should run— yeah, I should definitely run!
He turned to flee but accidentally tripped over a trash can, crashing to the ground. "Ow! Not now!"
Marianne, running past, collided with him, dropping her staff, the box, and scattering Johnrey's snacks across the pavement.
"H-Hey! Watch where you're—!" Johnrey started to complain, but then he saw her terrified face and fell silent.
She whispered, "I'm sorry," grabbed her staff, and ran as laser fire streaked behind her.
The men in white aimed and fired again.
Zap! Zap! Zap!
Sparks exploded on the walls near Johnrey's head. He screamed and dove behind the trash again. "I'm too young to die! I didn't even eat my pudding yet!"
The attackers chased after Marianne, their glowing rifles illuminating the dark street. One of them glanced at Johnrey and muttered, "Pathetic civilian." Then they disappeared into the distance.
Johnrey stayed frozen for nearly a full minute, trembling. "W-What just happened…?"
When he finally stood up, he noticed something shining faintly in the corner of his eye — a small box, the same one Marianne had dropped. It lay half-open, symbols glowing faintly on its metallic surface.
"Huh?" he whispered, stepping closer. Strange markings covered it — ancient letters, unreadable but mesmerizing.
"This must be… hers," he murmured. "I should… keep it safe for now. Yeah… yeah, that's what a good person would do."
He picked it up carefully and walked home, still shaking.
Back in his small apartment — a cramped single room with flickering lights and a broken window fan — Johnrey dropped onto his couch.
"What a wild day…" he muttered, staring at the box on his table. "Gunfights… laser beams… and that girl… Miss Marianne…? What did I just get dragged into?"
He turned on the TV for noise, but his eyes kept drifting back to the box. Its faint glow pulsed like a heartbeat.
After half an hour of resisting curiosity, he sighed.
"Just one peek… I'll look for two seconds, and then I'll put it back. Promise."
He unlatched the box.
A burst of crimson light flooded the room.
"Ah—!!" Johnrey yelped, falling backward off his couch. The glow filled the walls, then faded, leaving only a single object resting where the box had been.
A ring.
Crimson crystal. A fiery symbol etched in its center.
Johnrey blinked, trembling. "Wh… what is that…?"
He crawled closer, holding his breath. When his fingers brushed against it, a faint warmth spread through his hand — gentle but alive.
"It's… warm?" he whispered. "Weird…"
He hesitated — then slipped it onto his finger.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a faint flicker of light pulsed in the ring's core, like a tiny flame awakening.
Johnrey's heart raced. "Wh-What did I just do…? Oh no, oh no, oh no…"
He stared at it nervously, but the glow slowly calmed.
"…Well," he whispered after a moment, "it… does look kinda cool."
He smiled weakly, trying to convince himself everything was fine.