The bell rang again, sharp and unforgiving.
Students flooded the hallway like a restless tide, voices overlapping, lockers slamming, footsteps echoing against polished floors.
Dante walked through it all untouched.
Calm. Composed. Untouchable.
He entered his next classroom and took his usual seat by the window, setting his books down with precise care. A few students filtered in behind him. Among them-Emma.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
But unlike his brother, he didn't stare.
He simply adjusted his glasses and faced forward.
Please, he thought dryly, folding his hands on the desk. Let this be one class where I am not publicly associated with chaos.
He exhaled slowly.
If those two are in this class, I will drop it. Immediately. Without hesitation.
The door opened.
His posture stiffened slightly.
One second passed.
Two.
The teacher walked in alone.
Dante allowed himself the smallest breath of relief.
No Ethan.
No Damien.
Peace.
For once.
The teacher placed his briefcase on the desk and began the lesson. As the room settled into silence, Dante leaned back slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders.
Finally.
A class worthy of his attention.
The classroom was silent. Too silent.
The teacher was explaining advanced calculus like it was sacred scripture. Students scribbled obediently. The atmosphere was disciplined, structured-
Then the door burst open.
Ethan stumbled in, slightly out of breath, hair messy, tie nowhere to be found.
The entire class turned.
The teacher's chalk froze mid-sentence.
Dante slowly closed his eyes.
"...You," the teacher said flatly. "Which one are you?"
Ethan straightened instantly, trying to look refined. "Dante, sir."
A few students snorted.
Dante opened one eye, adjusting his glasses with slow, controlled irritation. "No, he is not."
The teacher sighed deeply. "Of course. Ethan."
Ethan grinned shamelessly. "Present."
"You're late."
"I prefer fashionably delayed."
"Detention."
Ethan's smile vanished. "That escalated quickly."
Dante leaned back in his chair, voice smooth and merciless. "Perhaps if you spent less time running from authority and more time respecting it, you wouldn't be an embarrassment."
Gasps rippled across the room.
Ethan slowly turned toward him. "Oh I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Did I disturb your royal calculations?"
The tension crackled.
Before Dante could respond-
Another knock.
The door creaked open.
Damien stood there.
The entire class groaned.
The teacher stared at the ceiling like he was questioning his career choices. "Why. Are. All. Of. You. In. This. School."
Damien stepped in cautiously. "In my defense, I was emotionally ambushed."
"By what?" the teacher snapped.
Damien glanced at Ethan. "Him."
"I was in a different building!" Ethan protested.
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is genetic humiliation."
The class was losing it.
The teacher finally dropped the chalk. Go Sit down. If I hear a single word-just one-you're all staying after school."
The triplets exchanged looks.
Silence.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Then Ethan whispered, "So... who's emotionally ambushing who now?"
Damien choked trying not to laugh.
"Will you two just be quiet?" Dante said coldly, annoyance simmering beneath his tone - their muttering was irritating enough, yet what truly bothered him was that not one, but both of them had shown up.
The teacher turned around instantly.
"DETENTION ALL THREE OF YOU."
Dante rose slowly from his seat, controlled but visibly irritated. "With all due respect, sir," he said, voice calm but edged with steel, "I had nothing to do with them. They were the ones whispering."
A voice from the back of the class cut in.
"What's the matter, Dante? A little family reunion wouldn't hurt."
Laughter erupted.
Dante's jaw tightened. His fingers curled into a fist at his side, knuckles paling. For a moment, something dangerous flickered in his eyes-something colder than embarrassment.
Then he exhaled.
Sat down.
Across the room, Ethan and Damien exchanged a look. Without a word, they both lowered their heads and began scribbling in their notebooks like model students.
Recess arrived like freedom breaking through prison bars.
The courtyard buzzed with life-students laughing, sneakers scraping pavement, the scent of fried food drifting from the cafeteria.
Ethan vanished instantly, swallowed by his loud group of friends.
Dante, however, was already seated in the cafeteria, alone at a corner table. His tray was neatly arranged. His posture straight. His presence undisturbed.
Peace.
Or so he thought.
"Dante! Dante! Guess what?!"
He didn't even look up at first.
"What now?" Dante muttered dryly. "Getting me detention wasn't satisfying enough?"
Damien slid into the seat across from him, unfazed. "That was an accident. It happens. Frequently. But listen-this is important."
He dramatically pulled out a folded poster and slapped it onto the table.
Dante sighed and picked it up.
ANNUAL SCHOOL BAND COMPETITION Auditions Tomorrow Grand Prize + Headline Performance at School Assembly
Damien's eyes sparkled. "Isn't this perfect? We should sign up!"
Dante scanned the poster once. Twice.
Then he set it down. "Not interested."
Damien blinked. "What? Why? The prize money alone is huge. And imagine performing in front of the entire school!"
Dante adjusted his glasses, gaze sharpening. "Fine," he said at last. "I'll do it."
Damien lit up instantly.
"But," Dante continued smoothly, "on one condition."
Damien leaned forward. "I'm listening."
"You and Ethan drop that class."
Silence.
Damien didn't hesitate. "Done."
Dante narrowed his eyes slightly. "You didn't even think about it."
"I was planning to leave anyway," Damien shrugged. "So technically, you're welcome."
Dante sighed, picking up his fork again. "I have a very bad feeling about this." Damien grinned.
The rest of the school day passed surprisingly smoothly.
After school, the three brothers sat through detention in stiff silence. The clock ticked louder than necessary, each second dragging like punishment.
Finally-
"You're dismissed."
They were free.
The walk home was unusually quiet.
When they stepped inside, they found Rosita cleaning the living room, sunlight spilling through the windows.
She turned at the sound of the door.
"You boys sure took your time," she said, raising a brow. "Detention on the first day? Even you, Dante?"
Dante removed his bag with controlled irritation. "I'll have you know," he said coolly, "that if it weren't for those two, I would not have stayed behind."
Ethan immediately slung an arm around his shoulders. "Oh, come on, bro. Lighten up a little."
Dante stiffened.
"We've got band practice."
Rosita paused. "Band practice?" she repeated slowly.
Damien beamed. "We're signing up for the school competition."
Something flickered in Rosita's expression.
Just for a second.
Concern.
But it was gone as quickly as it came.
"Well," she said gently, "wash up first."
The triplets headed upstairs.
And as Dante walked ahead of his brothers-
He felt it.
A subtle pressure in the air.
Like something listening.
Watching.
Waiting.
The garage had been converted into their "practice studio."
Old speakers. A slightly out-of-tune keyboard. Ethan's electric guitar leaning against an amp that buzzed faintly when plugged in. Damien adjusting the mic stand like he was preparing for a world tour.
Dante standing near the keyboard, arms crossed, already questioning his life choices. "This," Dante said flatly, "is exactly how disasters begin."
Ethan grinned, plugging in his guitar. "Relax. We're about to make history."
"Or noise pollution," Dante replied.
Damien clapped his hands. "Okay! From the top. Just like we practiced-except we've never practiced."
Ethan strummed the first chord,the amp crackled, then roared louder than it should have.
All three paused.
"...Was that you?" Damien asked.
Ethan frowned. "I barely touched it."
Dante narrowed his eyes. "Try again."
Ethan strummed.This time, the sound vibrated through the garage walls. Not loud-
Heavy.
Like the air itself was reacting.
The lightbulb above them flickered.
All three froze.
"Okay," Damien said slowly, "that's new."
Ethan swallowed. "I swear I didn't turn the volume up."
Dante stepped closer to the amp, examining it carefully. "There's no logical reason for that level of output."
Damien moved toward the mic. "Maybe it's just bad wiring?"
He tapped the microphone.
The speakers screeched-
Then the sound warped.
Not feedback.
A low hum layered beneath it.
Deep.
Ancient.
The garage door trembled slightly.
The windows rattled.
"Stop," Dante said sharply.
But Damien had already leaned in to test it again. "Testing, one-" The mic exploded with sound.
A shockwave burst outward.
The instruments vibrated violently.
Ethan's guitar strings snapped all at once.
The keyboard sparked.
And for one split second-
The lights went completely out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
In that darkness-
Something moved.
Not physically.
But felt.
Like pressure coiling around them.
Then-
The lights slammed back on.
Everything was silent.
Smoke curled from the amp.
Damien stumbled backward, breathing hard. "Did you guys feel that?"
The air around him shimmered faintly-like heat distortion-before settling.
Dante didn't answer. He was staring at the cracked window. A thin fracture ran down the glass.
From the inside out.
His reflection looked normal.
But behind it-
For a split second-
His shadow moved before he did.
Then it snapped back into place.
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Ethan finally whispered, "Tell me that was just bad wiring."
Dante adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers-something he never did.
"No," he said quietly. "That wasn't normal."
Upstairs- Rosita had stopped mid-step.
Her hand tightened around the banister. She felt it too.The seal she thought was stable-
Had just cracked.