Monday arrived with noise.
Not the usual city noise—but chaos.
Cars were packed bumper to bumper, horns blaring endlessly. Drivers leaned out of windows shouting at each other, tempers flaring. The roads near the city center were nearly blocked, not by accidents, but by people.
Reporters.
Dozens of them.
Cameras, vans, microphones—international news channels had flooded the streets. Foreign accents mixed with local languages as reporters stood in front of broken buildings, police barricades, and warning tapes.
"This city is cursed," one reporter announced dramatically.
"Some believe these attacks are supernatural," another said, voice trembling. "An act of God."
"Others claim it's punishment," someone else argued. "A sign."
Every theory had its own believers.
Some said demons.
Some said experiments gone wrong.
Some said destiny.
But the truth—
Only the monsters knew it.
And the masked man.
Rumors spread faster than fear, and fear spread faster than facts. The air itself felt heavy, like it was holding secrets too dangerous to speak aloud.
The school gates were open—but the school didn't feel the same.
Extra security guards stood at every corner. Soldiers patrolled the grounds, rifles slung over their shoulders, eyes alert. Metal detectors had been placed near the entrance. Cameras were newly installed, blinking red lights watching every movement.
Chris looked around as she walked inside.
"They really think adding more security members will save us," she muttered.
Lily glanced at the soldiers roaming the ground, arms crossed confidently, muscles visible beneath their uniforms.
"I don't know if they'll save us or not," Lily said casually, eyes scanning shamelessly, "but they are too hot. I'm telling you, we deserve this."
Chris stopped walking and stared at her.
"…Really?" she asked slowly. "You think they're hot?"
Lily wasn't in the mood to argue about military boys today. She waved her hand dismissively.
"Well—forget that," she said quickly, changing the topic. "What's in the lunch?"
She leaned over, peeking into Chris's lunch box.
Chris opened it. "Umm… some fruits and two sandwiches. What about you?"
Lily opened hers, looked inside, and sighed deeply.
"Pasta."
Then she suddenly lifted the box dramatically. "PASTA!" she shouted.
Chris laughed despite herself.
That was when Henry walked toward them, holding a drink bottle with a straw in one hand and a lunch box in the other—covered in colorful stickers.
"You're way too loud for a city under attack," he said.
Twilight joined them moments later, carrying his kawaii water bottle and neatly packed lunch.
No one went to the canteen.
Half the class was absent.
Even some teachers didn't show up.
The school was open—but empty, like everyone was pretending things were normal while knowing they weren't.
At Henry's house, Neon lay sprawled on the couch, watching a cartoon movie.
Bright colors flashed across the screen. Loud sound effects filled the room—too cheerful for the city's mood.
Kate sat beside him, calmly eating her cat food like nothing in the world had changed.
Neon yawned.
"This world is weird," he muttered, switching channels, then switching back.
Suddenly—
Ding dong.
The doorbell rang.
Neon paused the movie and frowned.
Henry wasn't home.
Kate looked up, ears twitching.
Neon stood and walked toward the door. He opened it.
No one was there.
The street was empty.
He leaned out slightly, looking left… right… nothing.
Then he looked down.
A letter lay neatly on the entrance carpet.
His eyes narrowed.
He picked it up.
On the front, written in clean, sharp handwriting:
To Henry.
Neon glanced around again. Still no one.
He stepped inside and closed the door, locking it carefully.
He stared at the envelope.
Something about it felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like it carried more than just words.
Kate meowed softly.
Neon sat back on the couch, holding the letter but not opening it.
"Looks like trouble finally found you," he whispered.
Outside, sirens echoed faintly.
Somewhere far away, something unseen was moving—slowly, patiently.
The city thought Monday meant routine.
But deep beneath the noise, beneath the rumors, beneath the fear—
Something had already begun.