I could feel myself drifting, the golden smoke wrapping around me like a warm blanket. It was soothing, lulling me into a strange calm. Somewhere above, I heard the distant rumble of storm clouds, soft and steady, accompanied by the haunting melody of a flute.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the lecture theatre anymore.
Before me stood a grand chamber, its walls and floors made of swirling golden clouds. The room bore the scars of a recent battle—shattered weapons, splintered shields, and the remnants of a fight that had torn through with unimaginable violence. Yet at the centre of it all stood a man seated on a throne of glowing clouds, untouched by the destruction around him.
He was striking, almost unreal. White hair fell in waves around his sharp, angular face, streaked with flakes of blue that shimmered like lighting. His eyes were the colour of the clearest skies, piercing and unnervingly calm. He would have been the perfect depiction of a god, the kind I'd seen immortalized in museum sculptures, if not for the dark scabs marring his skin. They crawled up his arms and across his face, grotesque marks of decay on what must have once been perfection.
His lips curved into a wide grin as I stared, sending a shiver down my spine.
"So," he said, his voice resonating like thunder in the quiet chamber. "You're the next one to inherit the throne?"
He nodded to himself as if confirming his own thoughts. I tried to respond, to explain that I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten here—that I'd been in a lecture hall just moments ago—but my lips refused to move. No sound came out, no matter how hard I tried.
"You have a strong soul," he continued, his grin widening. "That's why you've made it this far. But be careful of—"
Before he could finish, the room dissolved. The golden throne, the man, the weapons all faded like smoke in the wind.
I gasped and opened my eyes back in the lecture theatre. The crimson light of the setting sun bathed the room in an eerie glow, casting long shadows across the walls. I sat up, my heart pounding as I took in my surroundings.
Everything felt off, like a dream that had bled into reality. The air was heavy, and the faint sound of running footsteps echoed faintly in the distance.
There were ten of us left in the lecture theatre. I didn't know anyone's name—no one ever stuck around long enough to talk after class—but I recognized their faces. Some were just waking up, like me, rubbing their eyes and trying to make sense of what had happened. Others were already on their feet, glancing nervously around the room.
A girl near the corner began to cry softly, muttering something incoherent. I leaned closer and caught fragments of her words. "Rocks... big rocks... falling... they were falling on me..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands.
"What just happened?" a voice asked, breaking the uneasy silence. It came from the guy who always sat at the back of the room. He was tall and lanky, with a slouched posture and deep shadows under his eyes that made it seem like he hadn't slept in days. He always dozed off during lectures, but now he was wide awake, his voice edged with confusion and worry.
"The smoke," someone muttered, and all eyes turned to the girl standing confidently near the front. She was the smartest in the class—everyone knew that. Her head was high, and her arms crossed tightly as if she were trying to hold herself together through sheer willpower.
"It must've been some kind of hallucinogen," she said, her voice steady but distant, like she was talking to herself more than anyone else. "We all breathed it in... It's the only explanation. The smoke must have been some sort of airborne drug. That's why we all—"
Her voice faltered, and she shook her head as though refusing to let the thought fully take form. Despite her outward confidence, fear flickered in her eyes, raw and unhidden. Then she spun on her heels, her gaze sweeping across the room.
"It doesn't explain all of us seeing the sky," she said sharply, her voice cracking slightly at the end. "Or why it felt so real." She paused, glancing at each of us in turn. "Did anyone else have a weird dream? I was running through a forest with a bow and arrows, chasing a deer... trying to kill it. It felt like I was really there. Every step, every breath..."
"No!" barked the lanky guy from the back of the room, cutting her off. His voice was rough as if it took everything he had to speak. He shook his head and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I didn't see any forest. I was... I was in a desert. Just sand everywhere. I couldn't breathe—no air, no sky, just sand swallowing me whole." His shoulders hunched as he spoke, his words dripping with unease.
The girl's eyes narrowed, and she tapped her fingers against her arm as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "That's... not the same," she murmured. She looked around again, her urgency rising. "Did anyone else see-"
Before she could finish her sentence, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the hallway. The classroom door burst open, and a small, wiry man stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. He was drenched in blood, his broad, frantic eyes darting around the room. His thin frame and twitchy movements made him look almost rodent-like—his whisker-thin moustache only added to the comparison.
A few girls in the room released startled squeaks, shrinking back in alarm.
"Help me!" the man cried, his voice high and desperate. "Help me, or we're all going to die!" He threw himself against the door, shoving chairs to barricade it as best as his trembling hands could.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My legs twitched, wanting to move, but my body refused to obey.
Then the girl by the window—the one who had been so composed—stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. She pointed sharply at the man, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Why is there blood on you?" she demanded, her gaze fixed on the dark red stains covering his clothes.
The man wheezed, still frantically shoving anything he could find against the door. "What part of 'you're all going to die', don't you understand?" he shouted between laboured breaths. "Help me block this, or we're done for!"
But she didn't back down. "Have you hurt someone?" she asked, taking another step closer, her voice slicing through the panic.
Before he could respond, the door shook violently, a thunderous bang that sent everyone reeling back. The makeshift barricade rattled under the impact, the furniture skidding an inch closer to the man.
All eyes turned to the door.
Another bang came, louder and heavier, followed by a third. The door didn't just crack—it exploded off its hinges, hurtling across the room. The confident girl dove out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the flying debris.
Standing in the doorway was a man—if you could even call him that. His frame was massive, nearly filling the doorframe, clad head-to-toe in black, jagged armour. A long sword, slick with fresh blood, hung at his side, and his helmet was moulded into the snarling visage of a wolf.
The small, whiskered man let out a shrill squeak and scrambled across the floor, grabbing the crying girl beside him and yanking her in front of him like a human shield.
"You can take her!" he shrieked, his voice breaking with terror. "Take her and spare me!"
The hulking figure stepped into the room with a chilling, deliberate calm. His sword dragged across the floor, leaving a dark, smoky trail in its wake. With inhuman speed, the blade arced through the air, striking the girl on the floor. The room seemed to hold its breath as the blade passed through her effortlessly, splitting her in two.
Screams erupted. Blood splattered across the desks and walls, and her lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
"Run!" the confident girl shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. "Everyone, head for the fire exit! Now!"
Panic swept through the remaining students like a tidal wave. People screamed, cried, and shoved each other as they bolted for the far side of the room. I stumbled to my feet, my heart pounding, and followed the frantic crowd.
Behind me, I heard sobs and the sound of heavy boots pounding against the floor. The whiskered man, in his blind panic, shoved another student to the ground to clear his way.
"Help me!" someone screamed.