The large, echoing hall of the museum was filled with the sound of footsteps and low chatter as the group of university students followed their teacher. The walls were lined with ancient artifacts, paintings, and sculptures, all bathed in dim, golden light.
"Alright, everyone," called Mr. Griffin, their art history professor, stopping in front of a massive glass case. "Gather around here. What you're looking at is an original from the ancient kingdom of Aksum."
The students shuffled closer, their murmurs fading as they looked at the delicate gold necklace within the case.
"Thousands of years old," Mr. Griffin continued, "this necklace symbolizes—"
"Sir," interrupted a boy from the back. "Can we skip to the interesting stuff?"
A few students snickered. Mr. Griffin's sharp glare silenced them. Most of the students don't want be here in the first place. It was just an optional excursion during the holidays. Infact ninety percent of the students here were forced to by their parents, just to chase them away from their room.
"If you'd prefer interesting, then I suggest you keep quiet and follow me. The next exhibit is something truly fascinating."
The group walked deeper into the museum until they stopped in front of a massive stone statue. It towered over them, easily eight feet tall. The figure was humanoid but with two heads—one facing forward, the other backward. Its body was muscular and twisted, like it was frozen mid-motion, and strange runes were carved into its chest and arms.
"What is that?" asked Bella, her voice filled with curiosity as she pushed her blonde hair behind her ear.
"That," Mr. Griffin said with a dramatic pause, "is a depiction of the Koryathans."
"The what?" another student asked, his brows furrowed.
"The Koryathans," Mr. Griffin repeated, stepping closer to the statue. His voice dropped slightly, adding a sense of gravity to his words. "They were said to be ancient beings that existed long before recorded history. Legends say they were incredibly powerful, both physically and intellectually. They were neither man nor beast—something in between. For centuries, humans and Koryathans lived side by side, sharing the earth. At least, until…"
"Until what?" Bella asked, her blue eyes fixed on the statue.
"Until they turned on humanity," Mr. Griffin said grimly. "The Koryathans became greedy. They wanted the planet for themselves, and there was nothing humans could do to stop them. They were faster, smarter, stronger. Entire civilizations fell in days. They enslaved mankind and ruled with an iron fist. It was said they could control nature, summon storms, and bend fire and water to their will."
The students exchanged uneasy glances, a few stepping back from the statue.
"But…" Liam, who had been silent until now, spoke up softly, "if they were so powerful, what happened to them? Why aren't they still ruling the earth?"
Mr. Griffin's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's a mystery even historians can't explain. Some believe they destroyed themselves in a great war. Others think they were wiped out by a force even greater than them." He turned to look at the group, his tone sharpening. "But whatever the truth is, the Koryathans left their mark. Their story serves as a warning. Greed and power… always have a cost."
Laughter erupted through the museum halls, echoing off the high ceilings like a wave of mockery. Many of the students could barely contain themselves.
"Turned humans into slaves?" one of the boys snickered. "Next, he'll say these Korya-whatever guys invented Wi-Fi too."
Another chimed in, "Why don't we just call them the world's first gym bros?"
The group's giggles grew louder. Most of them weren't art students, and even fewer believed in old legends or myths. To them, the museum was nothing more than a maze of boring relics and outdated superstitions.
That's where I come in.
A lanky boy standing near the back of the group, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His hair fell into his face, covering most of it except for a sharp nose and lips pressed into a flat line.
I'm Nate. The only reason I'm in this stuffy museum, staring at old rocks and crumbling statues, is because my mom thinks I'm 'too focused on physics.'
He rolled his eyes inwardly, sarcastic thoughts swirling.
Sure, Mom. Because staring at ancient junk will give me such a fresh perspective on thermodynamics.
He shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his jacket sleeve as his classmates kept laughing.
Honestly, this entire trip has been a drag. I'd rather be at home tinkering with my circuits, solving equations, or literally anything that doesn't involve pretending to care about a bunch of old crap.
"Nate!"
His head snapped up, his long hair whipping to the side as Mr. Griffin pointed a firm finger at him.
"Uh… y-yeah?" Nate stammered, startled out of his private commentary.
"Where are the other two?" Mr. Griffin's tone was clipped, his sharp eyes scanning the group.
Nate blinked, caught off guard. "Other two?"
"Yes," the teacher replied impatiently, his hand gesturing to the students huddled around the statue. "We're two people short. They were beside you, I thought you'd know where they are."
Nate glanced around, confusion written all over his face. The murmurs started again as everyone else began looking, too.
The realization settled over the group like a cold wind: two students were missing.
The teacher sighed, pulling out his phone to glance at the time. "Alright, listen up!" he said, clapping his hands to gather everyone's attention. "Our exploration is over, and it's time to leave. But we're not stepping foot outside this building until we're all here."
A collective groan rippled through the students, but Mr. Griffin silenced it with a glare.
"Here's what we'll do. Spread out and search the museum. You all know their faces, so it should be quick. We'll meet back here in two minutes."
He raised a hand for emphasis. "And I don't need to remind anyone: do not touch anything."
A few eyes darted toward the towering Koryathan statue, as if testing the warning.
"I mean it!" Mr. Griffin barked. "Look. Don't touch. Go!"
Reluctantly, the students split into smaller groups, their footsteps echoing as they wandered through the maze-like halls of the museum.