Chapter One
The streets of Quetta were unusually silent in the early morning, the sky still pale as the city slowly woke up. Shops remained closed, their metal shutters lined like sleeping eyes, while a few figures moved quietly along the road. Some walked with their hands in their pockets; others jogged past in a steady rhythm, their breath visible in the cold air.
He walked among them, his backpack resting against one shoulder, footsteps light against the empty street. This hour always felt different—calmer, almost detached from the noise the city would soon become.
Ahead, the road curved toward his school, its gate still distant but familiar.
"Kisame!"
He turned as the voice called out from behind.
A boy approached him, avoiding eye contact with everyone except Kisame. He tugged his hood lower, messy dark red hair brushing against his eyes.
"Hey, Ali. You're up early," Kisame said.
Ali shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."
They continued toward the school, walking side by side, their steps falling into the same rhythm. They'd taken this road together for years—cousin by blood, brother by choice.
By the time they reached the school entrance, the morning had fully settled in.Students filled the area in comfortable numbers—not rushing, not lingering. Some stood in small groups talking, while others walked inside, scrolling through their phones.
Ali stretched his arms. "Perfect timing."
Kisame nodded and followed him through the gate as the noise blended into a familiar hum.
The moment Kisame stepped into the schoolyard, the usual sounds surrounded him.
Then everything changed.
Shouts cut through the chatter.
He turned just in time to see a transparent green barrier rise around the school, light bending strangely as it sealed the grounds completely.
A student near the gate ran forward and slammed both hands against it. The surface didn't break. It didn't even ripple. Solid.
"Hey—open it!" the student shouted, stepping back before trying again, harder this time.
Panic spread fast. Voices rose as students rushed toward the exits, only to stop short when they realized there was nowhere to go.
Kisame didn't move.
He watched carefully—the way the barrier curved, how the light passed through it, how no matter where someone touched it, the result was always the same.
"It's not an illusion," he said quietly.
Ali glanced at him. "You're way too calm right now."
Kisame exhaled slowly. "Panicking won't help."