BEEP BEEP BEEP!

The alarm clock blared, but the boy only curled up tighter under his blanket, trying to steal a few more moments of sleep. Just as he thought he could sink back into his dream, a familiar voice pierced the quiet.

"Get up, or you'll be late again," his mother called from the doorway, her tone carrying a mix of exasperation and warmth.

"Five more minutes," he muttered, face still hidden under the covers. "I'll be at the table soon."

With a sigh, his mother replied, "You really need to quit staying up until two in the morning reading about… fictional creatures." She lingered a moment, waiting for a response, but he was already drifting back. She left the room, shaking her head.

Eventually, the boy pried his eyes open and stared at the ceiling, groggy but aware he'd lost his fight against the clock. Glancing at the alarm, he saw it read 6:05 am. With a resigned sigh, he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, he caught sight of himself in the mirror—his once bright blue eyes framed by the shadow of dark circles. He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Guess those late-night 'research sessions' are starting to show," he said with a smirk.

"Table's ready!" his mother called from downstairs.

He quickly threw on a shirt, slipped into his seat at the table, and grabbed a piece of toast. Between sips of his black coffee, his gaze wandered to the TV in the corner of the room. A headline flashed across the screen:

"Two giant creatures caught on camera along the coast of Florida. Officials claim it was just a prank pulled off by local kids."

A spark lit in his eyes. "Guess the creatures I study aren't so fictional after all, Mom."

His mother shot him a look. "Didn't you hear? They said it was just a prank. Besides, the only thing you should be worrying about right now is that you're late!"

Realizing the time, he gulped down his coffee, grabbed his backpack, and sprinted outside to his bike. As he pedaled toward school, his mind drifted back to the news report. Could they really just be pranks? Or is there something more to it? His thoughts spun as he approached the school gates, only to be greeted by a familiar voice.

"You're late, Mr. James," his friend Noah teased, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Well, Mr. Noah, I'm glad to see you're late too," James replied with a smirk.

They hurried through the halls, trying to slip into class unnoticed. But by the time they entered, it was already 7:15 am—fifteen minutes past the bell. Their teacher glared at them, her eyes narrowing like a lioness sizing up her prey. With no room for excuses, they were told to stay behind after class.

James tried to focus on the lesson, but his mind kept drifting to the news story. Could those creatures be like the ones I've been studying? Why are they suddenly appearing near human settlements? Lost in thought, he barely noticed the piercing gaze of his teacher until it was too late. She caught him zoning out and, with a voice dripping in authority, told him to stand outside as punishment.

Noah chuckled as James stood outside, unable to contain his excitement and curiosity despite his predicament. The bell finally rang, and Noah joined him in the hallway. "What's on your mind, bro?"

"Nothing… just those creatures I've been researching."

"Those fictional creatures?" Noah rolled his eyes. "Bro, you really need to stop with that nerdy stuff. You'll scare the girls away!"

"Who cares about girls?" James replied, shrugging.

"Dude, you're sixteen! Everyone wants a little romance in their life," Noah said, laughing. "One day you'll regret this choice."

James only shook his head. Glancing at his watch, he remembered his martial arts training at 2:00 pm. "I've gotta head out, Noah. Catch you later!"

After school, James made his way to the dojo, where he trained with the same intense focus he applied to his studies of the mysterious creatures. Despite his unassuming appearance, he was skilled in martial arts, and the hours he spent training strengthened his body and mind. Once training ended, he decided to head to the beach—a place he found perfect for thinking and, more often than not, letting his imagination wander.

As the sun began to set, casting golden hues over the waves, he noticed something strange in the distance: three sleek, black cars parked on the beach. James knew cars weren't allowed here, except in emergencies, and the sight of these vehicles immediately piqued his curiosity.

As he inched closer, he spotted several men in black suits unloading a large tank filled with water from one of the cars. Inside was a fish-like creature with sharp, ferocious teeth and gleaming scales, thrashing against the glass. He felt a surge of adrenaline—this was no ordinary fish.

The men loaded the tank into a black truck parked nearby, each movement efficient and methodical. From his hiding place, James could see one of the men carrying a gun, his stern demeanor suggesting he was military or security.

The three cars departed, and James decided to follow the truck, keeping a safe distance to avoid detection. He tailed it all the way to an underground parking lot, where it was met by two other agents and an ominous-looking black van. From the shadows, James watched as the men carefully transferred the tank into the van, exchanging brief words before stepping away.

Taking advantage of the distraction, James darted toward the open cargo bed of the van. Heart pounding, he slipped in and crouched behind the tank just before the door was slammed shut. The vehicle began to move, the rumbling engine signaling the start of a long journey.

Hours passed, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the creature's occasional thrashing. Restless, James examined the tank more closely. He noticed two buttons labeled Open and Observe. Taking a deep breath, he pressed Observe, and a panel slid away to reveal the creature through a thick layer of glass. He stared, mesmerized by the strange, otherworldly being on the other side—a real creature, alive and breathing, just like those in his research. "I am glad I didn't gambled my life by pressing the open button", James said.

Then he saw it: a logo etched into the side of the tank. W.A.R.C. The letters were foreign to him, yet they carried an air of authority, as if they represented something vast and powerful. Below the logo, a label read Rating: F.

"What is W.A.R.C.?" he whispered. His mind raced with possibilities. "And what does 'Rating: F' mean?"