The fluorescent lights above hummed softly, flickering just enough to make the late afternoon feel heavier than it already was.
Vikram rested his chin on one hand, pen moving lazily across his notebook as equations filled the page. Mr. Sharma's voice droned on about projectile motion, the words blending into background noise. It was just another ordinary school day—boring, predictable, safe.
Then the air tore.
There was no sound at first.
Just a strange pressure, like reality itself had been grabbed and ripped apart.
The humming stopped.
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the classroom.
Before anyone could react, a thought slammed into Vikram's mind—not a voice, not words spoken aloud, but something absolute and undeniable.
Shelter Protocol Activated.
Panic exploded.
Chairs screeched against the floor. Someone screamed. Another student cried out in fear. Phones were useless—no signal, no light. Mr. Sharma shouted for calm, his voice shaking as badly as everyone else's.
Then it appeared.
A shimmering barrier dropped around the school, instant and violent, like a wall slammed down by an invisible god. It glowed with shifting colors—oil on water, unreal and alive.
Vikram stared through it.
Outside… the world was wrong.
Buildings twisted, bending at impossible angles. The sky had turned a deep, bruised purple, clouds moving like something alive beneath the surface. Streets melted into warped geometry.
The world they knew was gone.
The screaming slowly faded into whimpers.
"What… what is this?" a girl whispered.
Kavya.
She sat two rows ahead of Vikram, always neat, always organized. Her braids were slightly undone now, her hands trembling.
Vikram's heart hammered in his chest. He counted faces without realizing it.
Too many missing.
A new message flooded his mind, colder than the first.
Shelter Zone: School 17
Survivors: 32
Initial Assessment: Complete
Thirty-two.
His stomach dropped.
There had been over a hundred students in this wing alone.
Before he could process that horror, another message appeared—this one different. Sharper. Personal.
Emperor's System Activated
Host: Vikram (formerly Charan)
Core Directive: Survival and Dominance
Vikram sucked in a breath.
Charan.
That was his name. The one on school records.
But Vikram—that was the name he chose. A name with weight.
The system had chosen it too.
The whiteboard at the front of the class began to glow.
Words burned themselves onto its surface.
TASK: FIRST WAVE IMMINENT
OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE
FAILURE: ANNIHILATION
TIME REMAINING: 00:05:00
Five minutes.
A low growl echoed from somewhere far beyond the barrier.
And Vikram understood something, deep in his bones.
This wasn't a dream.
This wasn't a test.
This was the beginning of a new world.
And if they wanted to live in it—
They would have to fight.