I let my eyes wander, pretending to pay attention to anything other than the monotony of the class. Outside the window, a pigeon pecked at the pavement, moving like it was stuck in a brainless loop. Peck, step, peck, step.
"Ryouma, are you paying attention?" Shiru-sensei's voice broke through the haze.
I blinked. Unfortunately, at that exact moment, I wasn't looking at the pigeon anymore. My eyes had landed on something else. Something… bouncy.
Sensei raised an eyebrow. "What's so fascinating, Saionji?"
Shit.
"Oh, uh—there was a pigeon outside!" I blurted, trying to backpedal, but my stares went to that narrow space "I mean—uh, I mean, not—"
The class burst into laughter, and I could feel my face heating up faster than a microwave burrito.
"Saionji," Sensei said, folding her arms under the very problem. "Outside. Now."
I stood, trying to maintain what little dignity I had left. "For the record," I muttered as I passed her, "those things are a crime against physics."
"What was that?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
The hallway was almost a relief after the chaos of the classroom. Almost.
"Man, you're such a dumbass."
I glanced to my right. It was Tetsuya, my best friend and the reigning champion of making everything worse. He leaned out of the classroom window, smirking.
"You just had to get caught staring at her tiddies, huh?" he said.
"Shut up," I shot back. "It was an accident!"
"Yeah, sure," he laughed. "Next you'll say you tripped and fell into her cleavage."
"Why are we even friends?"
"Because you make me look smart."
Before I could retort, Sensei's voice bellowed from inside. "Tetsuya, if you don't sit down, you're joining Saionji out there!"
"Don't worry, Sensei! I'll make sure Ryouma keeps his eyes to himself next time!"
The class erupted in laughter again, and I groaned.
*
Well, I'm Ryouma Saionji, a normal high school student living a normal life. I'm not a loner or a hikikomori (shut-in), I have friends, play decent table tennis, and occasionally roam around town.
At least, that's what I thought my life was until recently.
You probably won't believe me, but for the past few days, this golden screen keeps popping up in front of me. Like a weird notification:
INVITATION
ACCEPT / REJECT
I have been trying to ignore it but it pops up at unexpected times like while I am pooping, contemplating romance strategies, bullying my dumb friends and so on.
"Authorities are investigating the mysterious appearances of 'big steps,' but no official reports have been made public," the news anchor announced as I passed an electronics shop.
They have been going on and on about this as if a monster appears out of nowhere and disappears into thin air. Well, that's the news channels for you, TRP is the thing they survive on, even more than oxygen.
Another thing I noticed was that, no one other than me could see the strange screen.
"Its a sign from the heavens to the humanity. The time is nigh" ranted an old man on a different channel, waving his arms dramatically.
Yea, the time is nigh to get some medications from the asylum and call it a day, old man.
"We are not prepared! We are—bzzt—bzzt…" The broadcast flickered out as the entire block was plunged into darkness.
!!ZAPPP!!
A blinding thunderstrike ripped through the sky, like a painful cry. Before I could react, a deafening snarl tore through the silence.
Something massive lunged at me.
A set of jagged, spiked teeth clamped down, ripping away my hand and a chunk of my torso.
"Augh—!" The pain was blinding. I hit the ground hard, gasping, choking on my own screams.
INVITATION
ACCEPT/REJECT
The golden screen appeared again, glowing like a cruel joke. My vision blurred, and my consciousness began to fade.
It didn't feel real—it couldn't be real—but the pain? The pain was all too real.
Around me, chaos erupted. Screams filled the air, but they were snuffed out one by one, replaced by an eerie silence. It was as if everyone else had vanished—or worse, been torn apart.
ACCEPT/ REJECT
I didn't want to die. Not like this.
Dragging every ounce of strength left in my mangled body, I reached out—blood dripping from my fingers—and tapped the glowing word:
ACCEPT.
*
???
"Oi, look at him squinting his eyes like a joker."
"Yeah, that hurt my ear," I thought, trying to open my eyes. My head throbbed, and nausea rolled over me in waves. If that had been real, I should've died by now. Maybe I was dreaming—or maybe I was the one who needed some extra sleep.
A heavy weight pressed down on my chest, like someone had decided to dump a rock on me.
"Keke, he's moving his fingers. Looks like sleeping beauty's finally awake."
I cracked my eyes open to see a figure sitting on me. A boy, probably around my age, with a physique that didn't match his childish grin. His dyed blue hair with white sides and edges framed his face in a messy wolf cut.
"Get off me," I said, my voice cold and steady despite the chaos in my head.
"Oh? Heh." He snickered, springing backward with a nimbleness that would've been impressive if he hadn't stumbled mid-air and nearly face-planted.
I groaned, rubbing the back of my head as I sat up. The place I'd woken up in was anything but ordinary. White walls stretched endlessly in all directions, with no doors, windows, or any visible way out. It was like being inside a void pretending to be a room.
Around me were seven other people, making eight of us in total. Their appearances were… let's just say they didn't scream "normal." Each of them looked like they'd been pulled straight from a fashion disaster or a comic book.
"See? You weirded him out, Aisaka," said another voice.
I turned my head toward the speaker. A boy stood there with a calm demeanor, his neatly combed black hair and glasses giving him the look of someone who probably aced every test. He smiled at me—not the mocking kind, but one that radiated a strange, off-putting positivity.
"You must be confused," he said, gesturing slightly with his hands. "I'm Amamiya Shion, and this jumping monkey here is Aisaka Ren. What's your name?"
The so-called monkey, Aisaka, crouched low to the ground, his arms swinging loosely like he was pretending to be a chimp. His grin stretched wide as he tilted his head at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Ryouma," I muttered.
"Ryouma, huh?" Aisaka stood abruptly, rolling his shoulders like he was about to do something reckless.
He suddenly crouched into a boxing stance, fists raised, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. His grin widened, and there was something unsettlingly childlike about the way his eyes twinkled.
"Can you fight?"
"What?" I blinked, trying to figure out if I'd misheard him.
"Fight," he repeated, throwing a quick jab into the air. "Y'know, like fight in. Or fight here. Or fight me!"
Before I could respond, he darted forward, feinting a punch aimed at my shoulder but pulling back at the last second with a giggle.
"Oi, Aisaka, stop messing around," Shion said, his tone half-scolding but still somehow upbeat.
"What? I'm just testing the waters!" Aisaka whined, throwing his hands up dramatically.
"Testing waters? You look like a toddler shadow-boxing in a playpen." I said, a bit annoyed with his remark.
Aisaka paused, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.
"Bwahahaha, I like you Ryouma."
"Huh, I see."
"The fuck's wrong with that stare of yours, huh? Wanna say something?"
A guy with a red mohawk over his head and shark-like teeth shouted while holding the collar of a pale guy who wasn't even looking at him.
"Mind your own business." The pale-looking guy replied back with the same uninterested look in his eyes. He had dark green hair and grey eyes with a pale white complexion.
"Ouhhhh, that looks interesting. Lemme join in guys." Aisaka exclaimed in excitement as he started to move towards them.
Amamiya tapped on his shoulder to grab a hold of him before he ran away again, "Wait-", all of a sudden, Aisaka turned his face back, and something was different. His eyes looked hollow, as if some kind of darkness was emanating inside.
He twisted his torso, flicking away Amamiya's hands throwing a roundhouse kick directly to his face.
BAM!!
There was a bit of smoke from the impact, but Amamiya stopped the kick directly with his palm, grabbing Aisaka's foot.
"Enough with the jokes, Aisaka." At this point, it was the same with Amamiya, as if he was possessed by something as well. He tried to twist Aisaka's ankle but failed to do so.
"Hahaha, you are sly, Ami-chan." Aisaka said.
"That's what you are going with now, heh." Amamiya replied with a smile as if nothing happened.
—bZZT…bzzzt…bzz—
—test, test, mic..ehm..ehm…Alright, Eita Kisaragi here—
In the air, a giant screen popped up and a broadcast was made.
—Well, you are confused, aren't you? Got dragged off your mama's asses all of a sudden—
He had a bowl cut but some texture in the hair. Wearing round glasses, his entire stature displayed pressure, an immense amount of pressure, and his hollow eyes, an extreme amount of distress and bloodlust.
—You're here because you're the best—or at least, you were. Now, you're just a bunch of unlucky bastards who've been thrown into this hellhole for one reason: Earth is about to get fucked harder than you can imagine. Beasts, monsters, whatever the hell you wanna call them—they're coming, and they'll make damn sure humanity doesn't see another sunrise—
"Huh?"
"A monster? What is he talking about, lol?"
"Is this a joke? Get us out of here."
Well that's the normal reaction, isn't it?
—Let me spell it out for you, idiots: this isn't some 'save the world with teamwork' Disney bullshit. Nah, this is survival of the sickest. And if you don't have the balls—or the ovaries—to become the meanest, deadliest son of a bitch out there, then you're as good as fucking dead—
"Hahaha, now this is something interesting." Aisaka shouted with a wide smirk on his face.
So that means, it wasn't a dream. If so, what about my school, my friends, most importantly, my family?
A sudden realization hit me and so did the fear of the possibilities that could have happened to them. I was beginning to understand this guy's talk in a more serious way, and so did the others, looking at the eerie silence in the room.
All eyes facing a single guy, a single broadcast, as he continued.
—The training? It's not here to make you better people. It's here to break you. Grind you down into something that can fight, kill, and survive against the kind of nightmares that'd make Satan piss himself. Only the strongest, smartest, and most ruthless of you will walk out of here alive—
I was starting to feel something inside me. Was it adrenaline? From excitement? From fear? or something deep within…
—Picture this: a horde of beasts—claws like swords, teeth bigger than your goddamn head—bearing down on your city. Screams everywhere. Blood in the streets. And you? You're the last line of defense. No backup. No second chances. What do you do? You fight. You win. Or you fucking die trying—
—This isn't about being a hero. Fuck heroes. Heroes get eaten alive. This is about becoming a damn predator. The kind that beasts fear. The kind that humanity needs—
Goosebumps all over my body, I was beginning to tremble. What is it? I want to be a part of it. I want to be the one.
—So yeah, welcome to your new reality, you unlucky pieces of trash. You're not going back to your cozy little lives. From now on, it's kill or be killed. And trust me, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the deadliest monsters these beasts have ever seen—
That's it!
—You want to live? Prove it. You want to save Earth? Earn it…bzzt—
With a wide stretch of his skeleton face, he said,
—You want to die? Beg it—