A boy sat quietly by the window in his classroom, staring out at the gray sky beyond the glass. His eyes followed the drifting clouds, lost in thought. Behind him, whispers filled the room.
"That's him... the poor kid."
"Ugh, why is he even here?"
"I can't believe I'm in the same class as that bastard."
The words weren't even whispered quietly. Some of the students didn't bother to hide their disgust. He heard every cruel word, every sneer. But he didn't react. His face remained still, his eyes fixed outside. What they thought didn't matter—not anymore. All he could do was listen... and endure.
When the bell rang, ending the class, the boy picked up his bag and walked alone to the back of the school building. It was the only place no one else went during lunch. His safe corner. He opened his worn-out lunch box, ready for a moment of peace.
But before he could even take a bite, a shadow fell over him.
A group of boys stood there, smirking.
"Hey, look what we have here poor hellen lee ",one of them sneered.
Before hellen lee could react, one of them grabbed his lunch box and tossed it across to another classmate, laughing. They played with it like a toy, throwing it around, mocking him.
As Hellen chased after his lunch, their laughter echoed like knives in his ears. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He was used to hunger. Used to silence. Used to pain.
Suddenly, one of the boys caught the lunch mid-air and crushed it in his hands—rice spilling to the ground.
"Oops," the boy smirked.
Hellen stared at the mess without saying a word. Slowly, he bent down, picking up the bent metal box like it was something precious. Because to him, it was. His mother used to pack his lunch in it before she died.
The boys turned to leave—except for one. The last one. The one whose presence made Hellen's heart twist.
Rayn.
Once, they'd shared secrets. Played with toy swords. Laughed until sunset. But now, Rayn was just another monster in the crowd. No, worse—because he used to care.
Rayn stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes cold.
"You're still clinging to that broken thing?" he scoffed. "Just like you clung to that damn cat."
Hellen's hands froze. A sharp breath escaped his lips.
"You remember that night, don't you?" Rayn said quietly. "When I found it hiding in your bag... trembling. I warned you to stay away from me. But you didn't listen."
The memory slammed into Hellen like a punch.
Blood on the floor. Screams. His cat's soft body—limp and lifeless.
The last piece of family he had left.
His vision blurred.
Rayn leaned closer, whispering:
"You should've disappeared with the rest of your trash family."
That was when something deep inside Hellen cracked. Not rage. Not sorrow.
Something colder.
He slowly looked up. Not with tears.
With silence.
And in that silence, something began to awaken.
Rayn stood there, waiting.
Waiting for Hellen to react — to yell, to cry, to fight back. Something.
But Hellen just walked away.
No words. No anger. Just… silence.
That silence made Rayn furious. His fists clenched, his jaw tightened.
> "Coward," he muttered under his breath.
"Why won't you break?"
Hellen didn't look back.
The school gates closed behind him as the sky began to darken, clouds drifting like slow thoughts. His shoes scraped against the cracked road. Streetlights flickered, casting long shadows.
Finally, he reached the edge of town — where the houses were old, abandoned, and broken.
One of them was his.
The roof sagged. Windows were shattered. The paint had peeled off years ago. But it was still home to him.
He stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. No one would bother looking for him here. No one cared.
He walked down the narrow hallway, avoiding the broken floorboards, until he reached a small room in the back. The door creaked open slowly.
Inside, the dim light from the broken window spilled across a blanket on the floor.
And there, curled up in the blanket, was a small orange kitten.
Its eyes blinked up at him sleepily. It meowed softly — not out of fear, but as if it had been waiting for him all day.
Hellen knelt down beside it, gently brushing a finger along its fur. The kitten leaned into his touch, purring.
A tiny smile — the first in a long time — touched his lips.
> "I'm back," he whispered.
He named the kitten Momo, the same name as the cat Rayn had killed.
Not to replace her — but to remember her.
He sat down beside Momo, listening to the sound of the wind slipping through the broken walls.
In that cold, crumbling house…
He wasn't entirely alone.
The next morning, Hellen left his broken house as usual, slipping out quietly so he wouldn't wake Momo. The little orange kitten was curled up in his blanket, still fast asleep.
But as Hellen stepped outside…
Something felt off.
The street was quiet. Too quiet.
He walked down the familiar path toward school. But halfway there, he paused.
He felt it.
A presence.
From across the cracked road, standing in the shadows near the trees — a figure. Tall. Still. Watching.
It didn't move. Didn't speak.
Just… stared.
Hellen blinked — and the figure was gone.
He looked again.
Nothing but wind and empty silence.
He tried to ignore it, but the feeling lingered. Like cold fingers brushing the back of his neck.
When he reached the school, something was even stranger.
No one sneered.
No whispers.
No cruel laughter.
It was as if the entire school had forgotten who he was.
No one looked at him — or they pretended not to.
Even the usual bullies avoided eye contact.
Hellen narrowed his eyes. His instincts whispered:
> Something is wrong.
The morning classes passed quietly, and when lunch came, Hellen went to his usual corner — behind the school, where the noise didn't reach.
But before he could get there, a voice called out to him.
> "Hey… Hellen."
He turned.
A girl stood a few feet away, nervously playing with the hem of her sleeve.
Her name was Mira — a quiet student, usually invisible like him. But today, her eyes looked anxious.
> "Rayn… he told me to tell you. He wants to meet you. At the back of the school. Now."
Hellen stared at her.
> "Why?" he asked.
Mira hesitated.
> "He didn't say. But… he looked different. Like… angry. Or scared. I don't know. Just… be careful."
Then she turned and walked away.
Hellen stood there for a moment, thinking.
> Why now?
> Why today, when everything feels so quiet… too quiet?
He slowly turned and walked toward the back of the school — each step heavier than the last.
The wind picked up.
And somewhere in the distance…
That shadow was watching again.
The wind howled behind the school as Hellen stepped into the open yard, his footsteps slow but steady.
Rayn was already there.
He stood in the center of the concrete lot, surrounded by the others — the same boys who crushed his lunch, stole his peace, and never let him breathe freely.
But this time, Rayn wasn't smirking.
This time, he was holding something.
> "Momo!" Hellen's voice cracked.
The little orange kitten squirmed in Rayn's hands, meowing in panic.
Rayn raised the cat higher.
> "Looking for this?" he sneered. "You should've kept it hidden. Just like last time."
Hellen took a step forward, fists clenched.
> "Give her back."
> "Or what?" Rayn said. "You'll stare me to death?"
The other bullies laughed. And before Hellen could move, they rushed him — circling like wolves.
Fists slammed into his ribs. A foot struck his back.
He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
> Pathetic…
That voice again.
Not from the outside — from inside.
> They'll always treat you like this. Weak. Helpless. Forgotten.
But I can change that.
Hellen coughed blood onto the ground, eyes burning.
> I can give you the strength to make them pay.
All I need… is one word.
Say it: Yes.
His fingers twitched.
More kicks. More pain.
And then —
> "Yes."
Suddenly, everything stopped.
The air went cold. The wind died.
A pulse of black energy burst from beneath Hellen's feet — slamming outward like a shockwave. The bullies staggered back, eyes wide.
Hellen rose, slowly, eyes now glowing faintly. Shadows curled from his fingertips like smoke.
> "You want a fight…?"
"Then fight someone who can hit back."
He charged — fast, too fast. His punches landed like hammers. One boy flew back into the wall, unconscious.
Another tried to run — Hellen caught him by the collar and hurled him to the ground.
Rayn's face twisted — not with pride, but fear.
> "What… what are you!?"
> "Just a coward," Hellen whispered, "who finally stopped running."
Rayn, panicking, threw Momo.
"NO!"
Hellen lunged, catching her mid-air. She cried out, but she was safe — trembling in his arms.
And then—
CRACK.
Something slammed into the back of Hellen's skull. His vision blurred.
He fell to his knees, still holding Momo.
Blood dripped down his neck.
> What…?
He looked up.
Third floor. Broken window.
Mira.
Standing in the shadows, staring down at him.
And… smiling.
But not a kind smile.
Not even a sad one.
A cold, twisted grin — like she'd been waiting for this.
> "Sleep well, Hellen," she whispered.
And everything went black.
---
Screams echoed in the distance.
Some students ran. Some stood frozen in horror.
Hellen's body lay still in the center of the yard.
> "Is he dead?"
> "What happened?!"
But before anyone could touch him —
A low hum filled the air. Symbols began to glow beneath his body.
A magic circle. Ancient. Alive. Hungry.
The lines burned violet and black, spinning faster.
Momo hissed, eyes wide, trapped within the glow.
Then—
With a flash of light and a roar of wind—
Hellen Lee vanished.
Gone.
Not dead.
Transported.
To a world that had been watching.
Waiting.