The world came back in a messy, annoying way.
First, the smell. That old, familiar smell of his room—dirty laundry, the musty pages of a thousand books, and underneath it all, the damp, stubborn scent of mold that no amount of ignoring could erase. Then, the feeling: the scratchy mattress cover, the lump of a heavy textbook digging into his side. Finally, the sound. The worst sound. The nasally, too-cheerful voice of the local radio host, blaring from his cheap clock radio.
"...and once again, our city shines! In third place, a young man of true dedication—Hyacinth!"
Darlington groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. Hyacinth. Even through the sleep fog, he could picture his friend's round, cheerful face. They'd probably call him 'plucky' or 'determined.' Darlington just called him his best friend.
"In second, the brilliant Kito! And in first, the undisputed champion, with a mind that leaves even computers in the dust… Darlington! The best of the best!"
The title felt like a weight. Best of the best. It meant teachers who expected miracles, classmates who kept their distance, and a future so sure and so boring it made his chest feel tight. He wasn't a person to them; he was a score.
He pushed himself up, his white shirt rumpled, his blue shorts twisted. Sunlight, sharp and mean, cut through a gap in the curtains. But today, that light felt different. It wasn't accusing. It was… hopeful.
Today's the day.
The thought hit him like a bolt of electricity, burning away the last of his sleep. He got up, his feet finding the cool floor, and shuffled to the bathroom. The smell got stronger—that earthy, wet-stone smell of mold he'd been meaning to clean. He didn't care. Not today.
Eyes still blurry, he grabbed the red plastic bucket from under the sink, stuck it in the tub, and cranked the tap. Water roared out, loud and chaotic. He just waited, his heart starting to beat a little faster, playing the moment over in his head. Her smile. What he would say.
When the bucket was full, he hauled it up. His arms, lean and strong from just being naturally built that way, handled the weight easily. For a second, he stood there, on the edge.
Then, he dumped it over his head.
SPLOOSH!
The shock was unbelievable! Icy, heart-stopping water smashed into his skull, crashed over his shoulders, soaked him to the bone! He gasped, a huge, sucking breath, and his eyes shot open, wide and clear. Every last bit of sleep was gone, blasted away. He stood there, dripping, water puddling around his feet, feeling more awake and alive than he had in years.
Yeah. Today is finally the day.
He snatched the towel off the shower rail, rubbing his skin raw, the friction warming him up. He moved fast now, with a single-minded purpose. Fresh boxers. A clean, white shirt. The stupid black uniform trousers and blazer. He ran a hand through his wild, curly hair—it was hopeless—and grabbed his school bag.
He looked at himself in the spotted mirror. A guy with tired eyes but a new fire in them.
"I'll tell her," he said to his reflection, his voice firm. "I'll say it all. Everything I've been holding in." He took a deep breath, practicing the three most important words. "I love you, Kito."
A huge, goofy smile spread across his face. His cheeks felt hot. He looked like an idiot. He felt amazing.
He burst out of his apartment, flying down the stairs, his bag slapping against his back. He hit the street running. Cars honked! He weaved between them, a blur of black and white, his long legs eating up the pavement. The wind felt great on his face.
People pointed. He heard the whispers.
"Look, it's Darlington!"
"That's the genius kid? He runs like the wind!"
He ignored it all. His world had one destination: the park. The old oak tree. The bench where she always read.
And the big, familiar shape already sitting there, huffing and puffing.
"HYACINTH!"
His shout ripped through the quiet morning. Birds exploded from the tree in a panic! An old man jumped, scattering pigeon feed everywhere. Darlington skidded to a stop on the gravel, grinning breathlessly.
"Today's the day, man!"
Hyacinth looked up from his book. His face was red and sweaty, his workout clothes damp. He didn't smile, just gave Darlington a look of pure, long-suffering friendship. "My ears work, you know. The whole city knows now."
Darlington laughed, plopping down on the bench. "Still trying to become the 'Heavenly Demon,' huh?" He poked Hyacinth's side. "When you get skinny, we'll have an epic battle. Until then, keep dreaming, big guy."
Hyacinth shoved him back, a grin finally breaking through. "You'll see. My power will be legendary." His grin softened. "You really gonna do it? No backing out?"
"Nope," Darlington said, the certainty like steel.
"You got a simple speech, right?" Hyacinth teased. "Not some big, confusing science thing. Just 'I like you. Let's get food.'"
"Shut up," Darlington laughed. He stood, pulling Hyacinth up. "Come on. You're my witness. My wingman. My… moral support."
Hyacinth got up, groaning. He brushed off his shirt, then his eyes flicked past Darlington. His playful look vanished. It was replaced by something else. Something like pity. And a little bit of 'you-are-so-screwed.'
"You know," Hyacinth said, his voice dropping to a deadpan. "For the smartest guy in the world, you can be a real idiot sometimes."
Darlington blinked. "Huh?"
"She's right behind you."
Everything froze. Darlington's heart, which had been pounding with excitement, suddenly went th-thump… th-thump… so loud he was sure she could hear it. He turned, slowly.
There she was.
Kito. She stood a few feet away on the grass. She wasn't in uniform. Just simple jeans and a t-shirt. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the morning sun, and her hair—that amazing, shocking white hair—looked like a cloud around her face. She was looking at him, a small, curious smile on her lips. Had she heard?
The park, Hyacinth, the sounds, everything just melted away. There was only Kito.
"H-hey, Kito," he stammered. His mouth was sandpaper. All the beautiful words he'd practiced vanished. He was an empty, nervous shell. "I, um… I wanted to tell you…"
He saw Hyacinth covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. Darlington took a deep, shaky breath. Just say it. Just three words. He looked right into her deep, intelligent eyes.
"I—"
The world stopped.
No sound. No wind. The leaves on the tree were frozen. A bird was stuck in mid-air. The water in the fountain was a solid, glassy sculpture. Everything lost its color, turning into shades of grey, like an old movie. Hyacinth's face was a frozen statue of amusement. Kito's smile was paused, perfect and still.
Only Darlington was in color. Only he could move.
"Wha…?" he gasped, stumbling back from Kito. His mind raced. A trick? A seizure? This isn't possible!
Then, the Voice. It wasn't a sound he heard. It was a feeling, drilled directly into his brain. It was a thousand voices at once—old, young, whispering, screaming—all mashed together into one terrifying command.
THE ONE WHO SHALL OBSERVE.
The words hurt. They weren't English. They were just… meaning, forced into his head.
THE EXCHANGE IS MADE.
Exchange? What exchange?! Darlington's thoughts screamed.
AN EQUIVALENT FOR HIM. NOW, HE IS SUMMONED.
Then, he understood "equivalent."
In the grey park, the frozen people… changed.
The old man with the pigeons. His head jerked. Then, POP. It burst, not into blood, but into fine grey dust that vanished. His headless body just stood there.
The woman on the bench. POP. Grey dust.
A kid. POP.
One by one, every single person in the park just… lost their heads. Silently. In this horrible, grey, frozen silence.
"Stop…" Darlington whispered, horror rising in his throat like bile.
He looked at Hyacinth. His best friend. His brother in everything but blood. The guy who wanted to be a legend.
Hyacinth's kind face twitched.
"NO! HYACINTH, NO!" Darlington screamed, lunging forward.
POP.
Hyacinth's head was just… gone. His book started to fall, slowly, slowly.
A scream was tearing its way out of Darlington's soul. He whirled to look at Kito. Please, no, not her, take me instead, please—
She looked so peaceful. So beautiful. Her eyes seemed to look right at him, understanding.
POP.
Kito was gone.
The scream finally broke loose. A raw, animal, world-ending howl of pain ripped from Darlington's lungs. He fell to his knees on the gravel, the stones cutting into his skin but he didn't feel it. He felt nothing but the gaping, screaming hole where his heart used to be. He reached a shaking hand towards the space where his friends had been.
"WHY?!" he sobbed, his whole body shaking. "BRING THEM BACK! PLEASE!"
The grey world started to shimmer. Then, like breaking glass, it shattered away into nothing.
Into blinding, endless WHITE.
He was on his knees on a smooth, white floor that went on forever. No sound. No smell. Nothing. Just white, and the crushing, suffocating weight of what he'd just seen. Hyacinth. Kito. Gone. Because of him. An "equivalent." For him.
He cried until he had no tears left, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs. My fault. It's all my fault.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Footsteps.
A wild, stupid hope exploded in his chest. He jerked his head up, wiping his eyes. Was it a dream? Were they okay?
The person walking towards him was not Hyacinth. It was not Kito.
It was a woman, impossibly tall, dressed in a simple white robe. Her face was hidden behind a smooth, gold mask. Her long, dark hair floated around her like she was underwater. She stopped in front of him and looked down. He couldn't see her eyes, but he could feel her stare. It was cold. Empty. Like looking at a wall.
"Welcome, Darlington," she said. Her voice was calm and clear, like a frozen lake.
He just stared, broken.
"You have been taken from your world. A life from your world was taken for you. An equivalent exchange."
Taken. The word was a knife. "Why?" he croaked.
"The gods are bored," she said, as simply as stating the time. "They have gathered every great hero and villain from every story ever told in a great hall called Valhalla. They are making them fight. A war of all legends."
She tilted her masked head. "The prize is something never given before. True immortality. To live forever, as a god."
Darlington could only stare, numb.
"Such a war needs a witness," she continued. "A pair of eyes from the outside. A human mind, with no power, to see it all and make it… real. You were chosen. You will not fight. You will only watch. You will bear witness to the war of legends, and to what comes after."
The numbness cracked, and a hot, black rage poured in. He pushed himself to his feet, his fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms.
"You killed them," he whispered, then shouted. "YOU KILLED THEM ALL! FOR A… A GODLY SPORT?!"
"An equivalent exchange," she repeated, unmoved. "Your role is important. You should be honored. The gods themselves chose you."
"HONORED?!" Darlington screamed, the rage blinding him. He took a step forward. "I'LL KILL YOU! SEND ME BACK! UNDO IT!"
The golden mask didn't flinch. The woman just raised her hand.
"It is time to see."
The white vanished.
BOOOOOOM!
CRASH! KRAKOOOM!
Sound and color and smell hit him like a physical wave! He wasn't on the floor anymore. He was standing on a narrow, glowing path high, high in the air.
Below him… was madness.
A hall so huge he couldn't see the ends of it. Stone pillars bigger than skyscrapers! Armies clashing—warriors in furs fighting knights in shining armor! Monsters straight out of nightmares battling heroes with glowing swords! A giant serpent coiled around a mountain! Arrows of light shot across the sky, exploding like fireworks! The air shook with roars, screams, war cries, and the earth-shattering BOOM of magic!
Valhalla. And it was a battlefield.
And he, Darlington, was floating above it all. Untouchable. A ghost. A spectator.
The tall woman's voice echoed in his mind one last time. "Watch. Remember. This is your purpose now."
The rage and grief inside him didn't fade. They mixed together, hardening into something cold and heavy and sharp in his gut. He looked down at the war of the gods. At heroes dying for a chance to live forever.
He saw Hyacinth's dust. He saw Kito's last smile.
His tears were gone. His hands, clenched at his sides, were steady.
He would watch. He would see it all. This "honor" they gave him, paid for with everything he ever loved.
You took my world, he thought, his eyes burning as they scanned the chaos below. Fine. I'll watch. I'll remember every second.
And I swear… I'll find a way to make you pay. No matter what it takes.
The boy from the messy room was gone. In his place stood a witness, alone in the sky, as the war for eternity raged beneath him. His story was over. His punishment had just begun.