Liam awoke with no memory of how he had ended up in that room. His body was covered in wounds, his clothes torn in several places, and the classroom around him looked as though it had just been ravaged by chaos. Chairs were overturned, shards of glass scattered across the floor, and the faint smell of metal—of blood—lingered in the air. The sky outside the window had already darkened. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious.
His breath caught in his chest. Struggling, he tried to gather his senses, holding back the pain that spread as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to step toward the door. The sound of wind rushing through the hallway sent a chill down his spine. As he peeked out, his gaze locked onto a figure at the end of the hallway.
The figure stood motionless. It did not move. But its stare pierced through him like a dagger—cold, full of hatred.
Panic began to grip Liam. He quickly tried to close the door again, but—CRASH!—a hand shot out from the other side, holding the door open. The fingers were long, the skin pale. With a powerful shove, the door flew wide open, and Liam was thrown backward, slamming hard against the floor. His head throbbed with pain.
He wanted to move, to escape, but his body felt paralyzed. His breath came in frantic gasps. The figure now stood in the doorway—tall and thin, its face expressionless, but its smile made Liam's blood run cold.
...Its steps were slow but deliberate. Each footstep echoed in Liam's chest. When the figure was right in front of him, its cold hand touched his shoulder.
Then a voice rang out—raspy, deep, and filled with rage.
"You think you can run from me, Liam?"
Liam was stunned. The voice felt like an echo from the nightmares that had haunted him since childhood.
"You've hidden for too long. It's time for you to remember who you really are..."
The figure lowered its head slightly, its face growing closer. Its cold breath brushed against Liam's skin, making his body shudder uncontrollably.
Suddenly, its voice exploded in a scream that shook the room:
"THIS IS MINE!!!"
The pale hand gripped Liam's shoulder tighter, and instantly, the symbol on his skin began to glow faintly. A wave of heat coursed through him, accompanied by sharp, deep pulses from within.
"That mark... that power... your body—everything belongs to me!"
The grin twisted grotesquely as its dark eyes flickered strangely—like something alive was stirring within them. In an instant, the world seemed to turn upside down, and Liam's consciousness was sucked into a whirlpool of darkness.
Then... darkness.
He awoke, gasping for air. The sunlight streamed through the classroom window, blinding his eyes. The sounds of footsteps and laughter from students echoed in the hallway—it was break time.
His back ached, his neck felt stiff, and there was a strange cold sensation on his left shoulder. When he reached up, his fingers found something—a mark. A symbol. It wasn't a wound or bruise, but as though his skin itself had formed the pattern—smooth, painless, yet unmistakably clear.
The symbol resembled an eye, with circular lines around it. For some reason, Liam felt that it was not just a random design. It... was his.
He scanned the classroom. Everything appeared normal. But deep down, he knew this wasn't just a dream.
He had returned... and left something behind.
That mark—the strange symbol now etched into Liam's skin—was proof that everything had been real. And not just proof, but... something else. Power.
Liam wasn't sure what it was yet. But his body was starting to show signs of something unusual. Things that were once impossible now felt possible. He was determined to test it after school. This wasn't the first time.
"This time, what power awaits me?" he muttered to himself.
Soon, footsteps approached. He quickly straightened his clothes and pretended to read a book. Several students began entering the classroom, and the atmosphere became lively again. One of them approached.
"Yo, Liam. Can I call you that?" greeted a student with messy hair and a laid-back expression.
"Name's Vilerri Elric. But you can call me Levi. Everyone here usually does."
Liam stifled a small smile. Far from his real name, he thought.
"Alright. Wilian Louren, but they call me Liam. Nice to meet you too."
"Nice. I'm the class president here. I need your number to add you to the class group." Levi handed over his phone.
"Here's mine," Liam replied.
"Got it, you're in. If anything comes up, just check the group."
Their brief exchange ended. However, voices from the corner near the window began to rise. Soft but distinct—whispers full of secrecy.
"Seriously, they say that organization is real. Not just a myth from the dark web," one student whispered eagerly.
"Crazy, the one that supposedly tracks people with... abilities beyond logic, right?" another replied.
Liam tilted his head slightly. The words "organization" and "strange abilities" immediately caught his attention.
"What was the name again?" asked someone.
"NE—NEX... something? NEXA... NEXARIS, yeah?"
"NEXARIS. Yeah. I found some info about it on a forum. They're apparently looking for people like—well, you know—who heal faster than normal humans, or who have insane strength."
"Like in anime?"
"Yeah, right. But apparently, there was a real incident in an industrial city last week. A worker fell from the fifth floor, was bleeding out... but got up two minutes later. The CCTV footage... disappeared."
Liam's body tensed. His breath caught in his throat. On the outside, he remained calm. But inside, his mind raced. The name "NEXARIS" was not unfamiliar to him.
Someone gently tapped his shoulder.
"Liam, you listening to them too?" Levi's voice came from beside him.
Liam turned, barely concealing his cautious expression.
"A bit," he replied briefly.
Levi squinted. "Interesting, huh? But you seem familiar with this kind of topic."
Liam simply smiled faintly. He didn't answer.