Diana Walker stepped into the bustling hallway of the school, her eyes scanning the sea of young faces as she made her way to her new classroom. She had been transferred to this school only a week ago, and although she had quickly learned the names of her students, she was still familiarizing herself with the unique dynamics of each class.
It didn't take long for her to notice the contrast between Alex and his twin brother, Leo. The twins were in the same grade, but their differences were as stark as night and day. Leo was a bright, popular student, always surrounded by friends, his laughter echoing through the halls. Teachers praised him for his intelligence, athleticism, and charm—qualities that made him the center of attention in every room he entered.
Alex, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved, often seen alone with a book in hand or sitting at the back of the classroom, blending into the background. He didn't participate in class discussions, didn't raise his hand to answer questions, and rarely engaged with his peers. Diana had noticed that he seemed to avoid eye contact, his expression always distant, as if his thoughts were miles away.
One afternoon, after collecting the latest set of test papers, Diana sat at her desk, carefully reviewing each student's work. Leo's paper was, as expected, well-written and insightful, earning him high marks once again. She couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and the effort he put into every assignment.
Then she came to Alex's paper. She paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she scanned his answers. They were correct—not perfect, but correct. And yet, something felt off. She flipped through the other tests he had taken throughout the term, each one telling the same story. The same score. Over and over again.
Fifty percent. Exactly half.
She frowned, pulling out his previous assignments and quizzes. Every single one was marked with a score of fifty percent. Not a point higher, not a point lower. Diana's curiosity was piqued. It wasn't that Alex's answers were wrong; in fact, they were always accurate enough to pass. But they were also never enough to excel.
Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of it. Was it a coincidence? An unusual pattern? Or was it something more deliberate?
Diana decided to investigate further. Over the next few days, she paid closer attention to Alex in class. She observed how he carefully selected his answers, how he never participated more than necessary, and how he always seemed to keep himself at an even distance from both success and failure.
It was almost as if he had intentionally crafted a persona of mediocrity, a mask of average performance that allowed him to blend into the crowd without drawing attention. But why? Why would a student deliberately choose to be so… ordinary?
Finally, one afternoon after class, she called Alex to her desk. He approached slowly, his expression calm but guarded.
"Alex," she began, her voice gentle yet probing, "I've noticed something about your work. You're consistently scoring fifty percent on every assignment, and every test. It's… unusual."
Alex's face remained impassive, his eyes fixed on the floor. He didn't respond.
"I want to help you, Alex," Diana continued, her tone sincere. "If something is going on, something you're struggling with, you can talk to me. But I need to understand why you're holding back."
He finally looked up, his emerald eyes meeting hers for the first time with a quiet intensity. For a moment, Diana thought she saw a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—something older, wiser, and far more complex than any eight-year-old should possess. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a blank, unreadable expression.
His words were simple, but they resonated with an unsettling truth. Diana could sense that there was more to the story, something hidden beneath the surface that Alex wasn't ready—or willing—to share.
Diana nodded slowly, respecting his boundaries for now. "Alright, Alex," she said, her voice gentle. "But if you ever want to talk, I'm here. You don't have to go through this alone."
Alex gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning to leave the classroom. As he walked away, Diana watched him with a mixture of concern and intrigue. There was something about Alex that set him apart, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But one thing was clear—he was more than just an ordinary student, and whatever it was that made him choose to live in the shadows, it was something she hoped to uncover.
*****
As Diana paced through the classroom, handing out marked assignments, Alex felt the usual sense of detachment. He had perfected the art of staying unnoticed—average in every sense. It was his way of ensuring a peaceful life, free from the attention and expectations that haunted his past life.
But today felt different.
As she placed his paper on the desk, Diana lingered just a moment too long. Alex noticed the way her eyes flickered, how her lips pressed together as if holding back a question. He kept his face neutral, focusing on the paper in front of him. Fifty. As always.
"Alex," she began, her voice soft, almost hesitant. "Can I see you after class?"
His heart skipped a beat. A wave of panic surged through him, but he forced himself to stay calm. No one had ever questioned his grades before. It was always fifty. Nothing more, nothing less. It should have been the perfect cover.
"Sure, Miss Diana," he replied, his voice steady, betraying nothing of the turmoil churning inside him.
The rest of the class passed in a blur. Alex found it difficult to concentrate on the lesson, his mind racing with possibilities. Had he slipped up? Had someone noticed something unusual about him? But how could they? He had been so careful.
Finally, the bell rang, and the other students filtered out of the room, chatting and laughing. Alex remained in his seat, watching Diana as she cleared her desk, her movements deliberate. When the last student had left, she turned to him, her expression unreadable.
"Alex," she began, sitting on the edge of her desk. "I've noticed something... unusual about your grades."
His throat tightened. He knew what was coming, but he maintained his calm facade, nodding as if this was a normal conversation. "What do you mean?"
Diana took out his previous tests and assignments, spreading them on the desk. "Every single mark—exactly fifty percent. It's... statistically improbable."
Alex's mind raced. He couldn't let her dig any deeper. But how could he explain this without raising more suspicion?
"I guess I'm just... average at everything," he said with a shrug, forcing a smile. "Not too good, not too bad."
Diana studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe, but it's almost too consistent. It's as if you're aiming for fifty."
Alex swallowed hard, his calm exterior threatening to crack. He had underestimated her. He needed to steer the conversation away, to make her lose interest.
"I wouldn't know how to do that," he said, feigning confusion. "I'm just trying my best, like everyone else."
She seemed to consider his words, her gaze piercing through his calm facade. But after a moment, she sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Perhaps. But remember, Alex, you can always do better. Don't settle for being average."
"I'll try, Miss Diana," he replied, keeping his tone light.
As he left the classroom, Alex felt his heart pounding in his chest. He had narrowly avoided a disaster, but he knew this wouldn't be the last time someone questioned him. He would have to be even more careful, more vigilant. The peaceful life he had fought so hard to maintain was now at risk, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.
*****
The schoolyard, usually a place of laughter and carefree games, had turned into a scene of chaos. The sky above darkened with swirling clouds as a crackling sound echoed across the field, signaling the sudden dungeon break. An ominous tear in the air opened up in the middle of the school grounds, spewing forth terrifying creatures and alien invaders.
Children screamed, running in every direction as teachers tried desperately to maintain order. But fear was contagious, and it spread like wildfire among the students, most of whom were too young to have awakened any powers. They were defenseless, their terror feeding the energy of the monsters pouring out of the rift.
During the panic, Alex sat with his back pressed against the cold stone wall of the school building, holding Leo tightly in his arms. His twin brother's face was buried in his chest, trembling with fear. Alex could feel the rapid thudding of Leo's heart against his own, each beat a painful reminder of their helplessness.
"Shh, it's going to be okay," Alex whispered, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. He gently stroked Leo's hair, trying to calm him down. "I'm here. Just stay with me."
Leo's small hands clutched at Alex's shirt, his sobs muffled against his brother's chest. He was terrified, unable to comprehend the horrors unfolding around them. But Alex remained calm, his mind clear and focused. He knew what was happening. He had seen it before—alien invasions, dungeon breaks, the horrors that came with them. His memories from a past life surfaced, guiding his actions.
"Leo, try to breathe slowly," Alex said, his tone gentle but firm. "In and out, like we practiced."
Leo's small shoulders shook with each sob, but he tried to follow his brother's instructions. "I... I can't," he stammered, his voice barely audible over the noise. "It's too scary. What if—"
"Shh," Alex interrupted softly, brushing his brother's hair out of his face. "Focus on me. Just look at me. Remember the stories I used to tell you? How have we always found a way through tough times?"
Leo nodded, his eyes wide with fear but focusing on Alex's face. "But this is real, Alex. It's not a story."
"I know," Alex said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "But real or not, we're going to get through this. Just like in the stories, we stick together, and we stay strong."
The ground shook again as another massive alien beast crashed into the nearby school building, sending a shower of debris into the air. Alex instinctively shielded Leo with his own body, his heart racing but his face still composed. He had to stay strong, for both their sakes.
Leo clung to him tighter, his grip small but desperate. "What's going to happen now?"
"We wait for the heroes," Alex said, glancing toward the school's main entrance where more and more students were gathering, looking anxiously toward the sky for any sign of rescue. "They're coming. They'll help us."
"But what if they don't get here in time?" Leo asked, his voice cracking with fear.
"They will," Alex reassured him. He could see the panic in Leo's eyes and it made his resolve even stronger. He needed to be the pillar of strength that his brother could lean on. "Remember when we were younger and I promised to protect you no matter what? I meant it."
Despite his calm words, Alex was keenly aware of the danger they were in. The hunters—heroes who were supposed to protect them—hadn't arrived yet. The air was thick with tension, every second stretching into an eternity as they waited for salvation.
A loud crash shook the ground, and one of the school buildings partially collapsed as a massive alien beast slammed into it. The ground rumbled beneath them, but Alex tightened his grip on Leo, shielding him from the debris.
Inwardly, Alex's mind raced. He knew he could fight—his past life's skills and knowledge were still with him. But that would mean revealing himself, abandoning the normal life he had fought so hard to maintain. The life where he could simply be Alex, just another student, just another child.
But for now, all he could do was hold Leo close, whispering reassurances as the world crumbled around them. He was determined to keep his brother safe, to protect him from the nightmare that had erupted from the very ground beneath their feet.