The beginning on the rooftop.
The day began like any other in the usual monotony of school. Classes dragged on, slow and boring, with teachers repeating lessons memorized years ago and students showing more interest in their phone screens than in the blackboard.
But normality broke in a matter of seconds.
The most beautiful girl at the school, the one everyone knew not only for her looks but for the strange, distant aura that surrounded her, stood at the very top of the north building, right in the left corner of the rooftop. Behind her, a group of teachers intervened with contained nervousness, trying to prevent the unthinkable and approaching her at a slow pace. It was the kind of tragic scene seen only in the news or at the climax of a dramatic film.
From the south building, the commotion alerted everyone. Among the onlookers was the protagonist. Without understanding what force drove him, he dashed out of the classroom without asking for permission, as if it were necessary. The whole school seemed to have frozen in a morbid expectation. While students and the other teachers held their breath, he crossed the courtyard that separated the two buildings in a single bound, tore up the stairs two by two and emerged from the stairs that lay behind the girl, lungs burning and heart racing.
The scene unfolded before him with terrifying clarity: she was there, at the edge of the void, her right flank exposed. The teachers, fearful of provoking any sudden reaction, moved with exasperating slowness toward her. The protagonist saw a straight line, a clear path toward her. He took advantage of the fact that the girl kept her gaze fixed on the teachers, who remained grouped to the right, beside the second set of stairs. It seemed the girl had threatened them, and that was why no one approached from that side. He approached with speed and stealth. He approached with such speed and stealth that she did not perceive him until it was too late: he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back with force, dragging her away from the danger and into the safe arms of the adults.
«Please... let me go... I won't try anything again...» —the girl sobbed, voice broken and face drenched in tears—. «I just want my bracelet back... it stayed there, on the edge... it's very special to me... it has irreplaceable sentimental value...».
The object of her anguish, a small bracelet, glinted faintly right on the concrete rim of the rooftop.
The protagonist, drunk on adrenaline and relieved to have saved a life, felt that this was, without a doubt, the greatest achievement of his short existence; he did not hesitate. He decided to retrieve the jewel for which the young woman had begged.
It was a fatal instant of distraction; the teachers, believing the danger under control, relaxed their grip. The girl, showing an unexpected agility, seized that second of trust to free herself. She did not run toward the protagonist, but at a suicidal angle, straight toward the right edge of the rooftop, where only the void awaited.
«Damn it...!» —he thought, with a mix of rage and disbelief—. «She didn't give a damn about the bracelet. It was all a lie.»
The protagonist's body reacted before his mind. He could not stay still. He was determined to prevent that death from staining the day, even if she ended up hating him for it. He ran to intercept her.
It was a miscalculation.
A lapse in the physics of moving bodies.
They collided violently.
The impact altered the girl's trajectory, and she fell backward onto the safe rooftop surface.
But the protagonist, betrayed by the inertia of the blow, was flung into the void.
And he fell.
The wind roared in his ears as the building receded above him. His last thought was clear and terrible:
«I think I have given my life to save hers. I just hope this sacrifice was worth it.»
A new world.
«Ahhh…!!...» —the protagonist let out a high, brutal scream, as if immense pain were drilling his skull. He brought his hands to his face instinctively—. «Am I dead?... The last thing I remember was an impact, like someone punched me in the face with the force of a truck... Do I think I died?... Although I have no way to confirm it.»
He woke in a place that defied all logic. The sky that stretched above him was not the one from his world: colossal, slow-moving clouds navigated the heights, lit by inner flashes that pulsed like silent storms. The air carried an ancient scent, a mix of sweetness and ozone that felt intoxicating and strange. The ground beneath his hands was dark, almost black, with a fine texture that crumbled between his fingers.
«Is this... Earth?» —he murmured, rising slowly.
His gaze fell on the nearby vegetation and his pupils dilated.
«Are there trees with blue leaves?» —he asked himself, astonished.
He walked for hours, driven by the need for answers. He did not understand where he was or how he had survived or arrived there. Along the way he found hills of impossible shapes and ruins of eroded stone, vestiges of a civilization devoured by time. The sun did not behave normally; its light sometimes cast two shadows and other times none. Physics seemed to have decided to rewrite itself.
A primal fear walked beside him, but curiosity was stronger.
After a couple of hours of walking, among some lush bushes with bluish leaves ahead of him, he heard murmurs. They sounded human or, at least, had the cadence of a rational conversation. The protagonist used the density of the foliage to hide and approached with extreme caution, making sure his steps did not snap any branch. He needed to know what or who was making those sounds.
When he peered out, the scene gave him a little hope back.
«Finally a path made by humans... This is good news... There are five people… they look like merchants from a medieval fair» —the protagonist analyzed.
The group advanced along a path of black stones. Beside them rolled a sturdy, weathered wooden cart, laden with bundles and pulled by two brown-coated horses, strong animals that snorted with fatigue under the strange sun.
«I can't understand anything they're saying… Is it a new language or did I burst my eardrums in the fall and my brain is inventing it?» —he whispered to himself, sharpening his ear.
One of the men stood out from the others. He walked upright, carrying a long staff in his right hand that emitted a faint vibration.
«And what that one carries —is it a staff?... It looks like a wizard's staff, like those in fantasy movies…», he thought, intrigued.
The protagonist remained silent, debating internally. Should he come out and ask where he was? Ask for help? Or was it better to stay hidden? Before he could decide, a rumble shook the ground beneath his feet.
In front of the caravan, the ground opened.
An irregular hole formed violently, swallowing part of the path and interrupting the horses' march, which reared up terrified.
From the darkness below, three horrible creatures emerged. Their skin was dark and glossy, like poorly polished obsidian.
«What the hell are those things? Are they humanoids? Spiders?» —panic climbed his throat—. «How dangerous can those long limbs jutting from their backs be? And those eyes… they seem to devour the light. No, they're like black holes. They absorb the sun…»
It seemed those three beings alone comprised the threat. But a couple of seconds later, a new creature emerged.
«A dog? No… it's only trying to look like one» —he observed in horror—. «That thing is much bigger. And dogs don't have double jaws nor a double row of serrated teeth... Its four legs protrude from the sides of its body like a spider's, not from underneath like a normal dog. Its skin looks like organic metal. That tail… ends in a dark hollow. And its eyes burn like hot coals. Those two horns… it's definitely not a dog. It's not a pet you can take to the park.»
The protagonist hesitated between fleeing and staying to watch the nightmare.
The man with the staff reacted. He positioned himself bravely in front of his four companions and the cart.
«Is that magic? Where the hell am I? He's going to cast a fire spell!» —the protagonist almost shouted, covering his mouth with both hands.
A crackling energy sprang from the wizard's left hand and concentrated at the tip of his staff. With a sharp motion, he launched an immense, forceful blaze directly at the beasts.
But before the protagonist could see them sizzle like pork loins… the fire simply vanished when it touched the creatures.
«Did the beasts' eyes absorb it?» —he wondered, incredulous—. «Do they not only absorb sunlight… can they swallow anything that threatens them? Will he try again? There must be a limit.»
The man with the staff froze, his expression slack with someone facing the impossible for the first time. He had no time to think.
The wizard tried to cast again, desperate.
His hand trembled. His whole body quivered with terror.
The staff emitted a glow, but it was no longer power it projected, it was raw fear.
The largest creature lunged at him with a speed the human eye could barely follow.
Without warning, with a dry, brutal motion, the beast grabbed the wizard's head with its hands and turned it one hundred and eighty degrees. It was as if unscrewing a jar lid.
Immediately, it turned it another one hundred and eighty degrees to leave it in its original position. But the damage was done; the skin of the neck looked twisted, like a wrung rag, and life had fled the man's eyes instantly.
Then, from the creature's back, those things —black, chitinous legs like a spider's— sprang toward the mage's inert face.
Two of them extended with a dry snap, slicing the air.
Their tips, black and sharp as obsidian needles, pierced with surgical precision into the dead man's eye sockets.
The legs tensed.
And then, with a degree of violence that turned the protagonist's stomach, the beast ripped the wizard's head from his body using only those rear limbs.
The head separated from the torso with a wet, repulsive crunch.
Blood spurted in a spiral, but strangely it did not stain the ground. It evaporated into the air before touching the earth, as if the very atmosphere rejected its existence.
The creature held the head between its legs for a moment, examining its trophy.
And then, with disdain, it threw it away.
The macabre object flew in an arc, rolled a few meters and burst through the bushes that hid the protagonist, stopping just in front of the tip of his left shoe.
The wizard's face looked up at him from the ground. It had no eyes anymore… only two huge, dark empty spaces that seemed to scream in silence.
«I can't move.I must not scream.This is not real...»
The protagonist felt a shiver run down his spine when the creature raised its gaze and sniffed the air with those glowing red eyes, directly toward the blue-leaved bushes where he was hiding.
«Damn it, I think those creatures know I'm here.»