(Soren shifted with characteristic elegance—long legs recrossing fluidly, ash-blond waves catching the light as his hooded silvery-gray eyes sparked with amusement beneath dark lashes. He cleared his throat with that velvet rasp.) "Shall we begin, then?"
Soren Valenhardt's Past
(Unlike the torturous tales of the others, Soren Valenhardt moved through Lincoln High with initial ease. At 6'2", he embodied poised perfection always moving with onfident strides.)
(His family was affluent and stable. Grades remained exemplary. Sports? Politely declined for personal reasons. Girls adored him; boys offered respect. Popularity grew steadily... until envy took root. As a French transplant—tall, ethereally handsome—his presence ignited insecurities among his peers, culminating in a whispered rumor among a group of boys.)
(The cafeteria reeked of overcooked slop and boiled vegetables, trays clattering amid the midday din. Soren conversed animatedly with teachers nearby—his velvet voice resonating, polite smiles unfolding slowly and devastatingly. Across the room, five boys huddled, their glares scorching his back.)
(A tall, slim redhead spoke first.) "Why does he get all the attention? I am taller than he is—6'4" at least."
(His blond counterpart, of similar height, scowled.) "There are far more good looking guys in this school. Why him?"
(The redhead conceded reluctantly.) "Nah he is at the top of the rankings, but those features are too perfect—unnatural. Plastic surgery?"
(A black-haired boy tilted his head, studying Soren's profile—cheekbones arcing like polished ivory.) "Indeed. He resembles those Ken figures from Barbie commercials."
(A lone girl—Veronica—passed by. The black-haired boy stopped her.) "Yo, Veronica."
(She stopped, arms crossing irritably.) "Yes?"
"Did you know Soren had plastic surgery?"
(Her eyes narrowed toward the smiling Soren, still engaged with the teachers. She whispered back.) "How do you know?"
"Look at him—no one is born like that."
"You may be right." (She drifted toward her friends, who waved her over. The spark ignited: girls whispered to girls, to boyfriends, to friends. Gossip spread like wildfire.)
(A week later, the hallways buzzed with malice. Soren strode along, greeting schoolmates politely—"Good morning," accompanied by soft smiles—until a snickering group blocked his path.)
"Hello there, dollface. We hear you are the new model replacement."
(Soren's brow arched slowly.) "Pardon?"
"We heard about the surgery."
(Oblivious to the rumors, he tilted his head, eyes narrowing introspectively.) "Surgery for what purpose?"
"Do not act innocent. Your entire face—those freaky eyes."
(Cool silvery-gray, an inherited trait. His hand slid into his pocket, biceps peaking neatly.) "I was born with them."
"Do not lie dude. How much were they?." (A faint chuckle as he wiggled his eyebrows.)
(A soft sigh escaped his full lips; fingers raked through ash-blond strands, tousling them artfully.) "They are natural. I have more important things to do than talk about my appearance."
(He brushed past, fluid sway dismissing them entirely. Normalcy eroded swiftly: shunned from people, AI pictures of his face—depicting him as horrible—circulated widely. It stung lightly, but he endured.)
(More idiotic rumors emerged: "His friend's and girlfriends become dolls themselves." Teachers dismissed it—"We are not paid to stop childish rumors." Isolation deepened.)
(One frigid winter dawn, Soren sought solitude outdoors, breathing deeply of the crisp air. Spotting three bruised figures on the sports bench, he sat among them with relaxed poise—their alliance sealed in frost.)
Back to the Present
(Jiwon sipped his boba with evident irritation, shaking the near-empty cup—tousled waves bouncing, blue eyes skeptical as he regarded Soren.) "You hardly suffered at all. Life on easy mode. We must change that."
(Soren exhaled in silent amusement, hooded gaze meeting Jiwon's—head shaking elegantly.) "That is unfair. My bullying was worth the daily assaults for perceived perversion like you, our lovely perv."
(Jiwon rolled his eyes, sinking back into the couch—hoodie swallowing his frame.) "Shut up. You are only friends with us out of pity."
(Damien returned from the fridge, dreads swaying, and lightly slapped the back of Renji's head—powerful palm meeting nape.) "Your turn now."
(Renji sighed in resonant bass, golden almond eyes piercing the camera.* "I was targeted for my hair, eyes, and nationality. That is the extent of it."
(Damien leaned against the couch back, water bottle dangling.) "Is your story so painful that you refuse to share it? Hmm anime protagonist?"
(Renji crossed his long legs, posture elongated and predatory.) "I will not say my entire life for strangers online."
(Damien held his gaze a moment longer, then turned to the camera.) "You have the essence now. The reunion was fun though, I won't say too much. This stream was an apology for our absence." (He around the couch and towards the camera.)
(He crouched before the lens, a subtle smirk tugging full lips.) "Farewell."
(The screens went dark and Damien stood up and moved towards the fridge again, opening it and taking out a can of soda after placing the water bottle back inside. Jiwon reacted immediately.) "Must you raid the fridge constantly?"
(Damien cracked open a soda—the hiss sharp—taking a sip.) "Says the one who emptied the pantry in a week."
(Jiwon's lips curved faintly, dimple forming as he chewed a tapioca pearl before rising and exiting rightward—hallway echoes carrying laughter from his room later. Soren followed, library-bound. Renji lounged, scrolling short videos. Damien settled with the remote, tuning to 'Island of Lust'—a dating show set on a tropical island. {Yes it's a copy of L#ve Island})
(Routine harmony prevailed: four men sharing a home undisturbed by each other. An ordinary day in an ordinary world.)
(A week later, midnight living room stillness. Jiwon snored sprawled across the couch; Renji watched the news intently, golden eyes vigilant; Soren read deeply; Damien texted. A sudden chill prickled their skin universally. Jiwon jolted violently.)
"AHH!" (He tumbled face-first onto the cold floor, sitting up to meet stares: Damien suppressing laughter, tears pricking his eyes; Soren's wide smile devastating; Renji's faint curve haunting.)
"Hilarious, Who pushed me?"
(Soren's brow arched.) "No one. A nightmare?"
(Jiwon leaned against the couch, gazing at the television.) "No—I was having an excellent dream."
"What was it?" (Damien asked, curiosity lighting amber-flecked eyes after swallowing his laugh.)
"Never mind."
"So, a nightmare after all?" (Damien pressed, leaning forward.)
"Shut up."
"If you say so." (Everyone's attention shifted to the news.)
"Scientists report new thermal signatures deep underground, detected via ultrascans—vast cavities approximately five million feet below. Theories proliferate among experts and the public alike. Officials assure these are insignificant anomalies overlooked previously." (The anchor, a middle-aged woman with sharp features in professional attire, shuffled papers.) "Now, the weather."
(Jiwon murmured:) "Do you know what that is there?"
(Damien scoffed:) "How could we know what is five million feet underground?"
"You tell me." (Weather maps scrolled; the chill returned—accompanied by a faint tremor.)
"The hell?" (Damien muttered. The shaking intensified—neighboring dogs barked frantically, car alarms wailed, lights flickered. Then, like a whisper, four black portals yawned open beneath them.)
"HOLY—" (Before Jiwon could finish, they plummeted into darkness. Jiwon screamed, clutching Damien; Damien's eyes widened in helpless freefall; Soren and Renji mirrored expressions of panic. The ground rushed up; before suddenly their consciousness fled.)
(The blazing sun caused their awakening—clothes covered in dirt and grass. Jiwon shoved off Damien, gaping at the emerald expanse: endless green meadows, vibrant wildflowers perfuming the unpolluted air. Damien stared blankly at the blooms; Soren inhaled deeply lungs filling with the unpolluted fresh air; Renji immediately spotted an approaching horse-drawn cart—brown steeds snorting, door creaking to reveal a rugged, bulky man: weathered face, blue eyes squinting at their strange attire.)
"Who art thou?" (His rough voice demanded, muscular arms crossed.)
(Jiwon echoed mockingly:) "Who art thou?, As if we are in medieval times. Is this a prank? Someone must hate their money."
(Soren cleared his throat poisedly:) "We are merely lost travelers. Could you tell us where we are?"
(The man's distaste sharpened when he looked over at Soren, Soren already exuded the aura of a noble.) "The Kingdom of Lo'ranioa, fools."
"Lo—what?" (Damien attempted.)
(The man immediately noticed Damien and with a quick scan, he snapped his fingers causing for the cart to begin to roll away.)
"HEY!" (Jiwon shouted) "Can you believe th-" (Jiwon looked over towards Renji who already strode silently down the path in the direction of where the cart came from.) "Can't you always say something?" (Jiwon jogged to catch up; Damein and Soren glanced at each other before walking after them.)
(Hours passed of walking and conversations about the area around them until a colossal wall loomed, flanked by wooden gates and alert guards, their faces having scratches. Their approach to the gates got their attention, with alertness and clear hostility to the unknown men they spoke with a booming voice) "State your family name and purpose!" (Their eyes quickly fixed on Damein, something passed through their eyes.) "You, dark-skinned one. Are you a dark elf?"
"A what?" (Damien narrowed his gaze—flicking from swords to their faces.) "No?"
(The guards exchanged looks and in silent agreement their blades flashed out, pointing at Damien.) "You dare lie, dark creature?"
"Huh?" (Damien raised his hands.)
"Conspirators with this fiend! Seize them!"
(Confusion reigned in their minds as the gates parted—more armored men swarmed, dragging them into the city. Locals glared contemptuously, especially at Damien. Cobblestones led to a towering castle; down dank stairs, the stench of decay assaulted them—cells slammed shut, isolating each.)
"Filthy beast," (Said a guard before the sound of his throat drawing something and immediately spit flew onto Damien's face, immediately Damien wiped his face and in anger shot up and grabbed the iron bars.) "HEY, I KNOW YOU HEAR ME YOU GOBLIN LOOKING BASTARD." (The guards vanished without a reply.)
(Renji's bass cut the gloom:) "I never imagined witnessing racism firsthand." (Pity formed in hid golden eyes toward Damien.)
(Awhile later, what seemed to be just a few minutes, footsteps returned—keys clanked, yanking them upward through opulent halls. A massive door loomed before parting to a throne room: marble expanse, tapestries fluttering. Nobles lined the sides—silks and jewels, disdain pouring forth especially at Damien). At the center: a woman of undeniable beauty—raven hair piled in crowns, wearing purple royal apparel exuding lethal elegance. Piercing violet eyes bored down as they sprawled before her.)
"Who dares sully my sight? Oh? A dark elf and his companions?" (Her voice, silk over steel, filled the hall with practiced ease.)
"What dark elf?" (Damien asked as he tried to stand, almost instantly the blade of guards was unsheathed and kissed against the skin of Damien's neck, this kiss of death drawed a bead of red to flow down the sword.)
"A speaking abomination? My my, what a cursed day." (She leaned forward, violet gaze narrowing dangerously. Her jaw slightly clenched.)
(Damien's next words and actions could mean life or death and right now he sat on the latter. The other three stared in visible shock, Renji stared eye's widened at the sight of blood on the sword, Jiwon just stared eye's widened with fear, lip's parted as he began to hyperventilate and Soren had a bead of sweat flow down his face, he bit his lip before shouting with a panicked voice.)
"WAIT!"
(All nobles turned to Soren as well as the woman on the throne.)
"Hm?" (She intoned.) "You dare side with this filth? Should I take it that after I slice off his head, your head should be sliced as well? Hm?"
(She clearly looked to be enjoying this. Sadism was clear in her expression and Renji immediately noticed her fighting a smile. She was amused dangerously so.)
(Soren just stared wide eyed and scared for what was to come.)