A blinding flash of light filled the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. The ground shook and buildings crumbled as a massive storm raged overhead. The battle was over, and though the cost had been high, victory had been achieved. But the cost had taken its toll on him. He knew what he had to do.

With a heavy heart, he spread his hands and a soothing blue light flowed from them, washing over the arena. The light was calm and soothing, but he knew what it meant - a lot had to be done - and he knew he had come to the end of his journey, for now.

Lightning strikes, ice storms, blazing fire, sand storms, rampaging wind - chaos and destruction... but he felt calm and solemn. He felt his strength leaving him, and a sense of weakness creeping over him. With his last ounce of strength, he uttered a final statement before collapsing to the ground, "I will come again."

Robert woke up with a jolt. He was sure he heard a voice, yes, a deep otherworldly voice; as if it came from the very depths of the abyss. He peered around the poorly illuminated hostel, seeking it's source, but the darkness limited his vision, and he could hardly make out the boys snoring happily on their beds.

The silence of the night was deafening, broken only by the occasional snore from one of the sleeping boys. The two moons, suspended high in the sky, cast eerie shadows across the room. Robert lay awake, staring at the ceiling, when he heard a voice again, this time clearer than before. "Hey, you there, I'm talking to you!" It yelled. Robert sat up instantly, looking around the room wildly, but there was no one awake in sight.

"You must be hearing things," he told himself, but a nagging doubt remained in the back of his mind. What if the voice wasn't just a figment of his imagination? What if there really was someone - or something - trying to communicate with him?

He lay back down, closing his eyes and trying to convince himself that it had all been a nightmare.

He had the intuition that he just had a dream, a very vivid dream about a flash of blue light which he was struggling to remember. He waited for some time for the voice to call again but the piercing quietness of the night made him feel drowsy. He eventually succumbed to the hypnotic silence and within seconds, he fell asleep.

Nestled amidst the vast, sweeping plains of Axille, Solar Springs High School was the ideal educational institution for any student. It was the least place anyone would expect something strange to happen, as its flawless exterior made it seem perfectly ordinary at first glance. Its contemporary buildings shone in the sunlight, creating a striking contrast with the natural surroundings. The hostel buildings, sporting blue-and-white colors for male and female students respectively, were impeccably clean, from the large windows to the well-tended lawns. The classroom blocks and other facilities including a laboratory, a theatre and lodging for the teachers maintained the same level of cleanliness and modern design. Inside, the school was equally well-kept, from the pristine white walls to the gleaming floors. This was a school that took great pride in its appearance, and it was evident.

Robert was a student of this school since 7th grade. He was a tall, good-looking teenager with jet-black hair and brown eyes - just your average student, nothing special. Despite his introverted nature, Robert was surprisingly adept at navigating his social life at school. He was the type of student who was well-known but had few close friends, and he knew very well why.

Ever since he was a child, he had been consumed by a fascination with all things extraordinary, particularly feats that seemed impossible - leaping off a space ship, shape-shifting into animals, practicing magic spells, traversing through walls, and more, all of which the average adult would dismiss as childish and implausible. In a way, his love for the extraordinary made him indifferent to social interaction. Even though he always yearned for extraordinary adventures, he never comprehended the eerie nature of these experiences until a voice had called out to him the previous night.

Following that night was a bright and sunny Nyxusday morning at Solar Springs High School, and students in stripped navy-blue uniforms were ambling to the classroom block from the dining hall, the sound of their laughter and chatter filling the air. Robert, who was among this precession seemed to walk slower than the others to his class and was preoccupied with the memories of the happenings of the previous night. The voice was so jarring, it made him feel like his head was going to explode! He grabbed his hair and tugged at it in frustration. Whenever he least expected it, a booming voice would reverberate in his mind, uttering things he couldn't begin to comprehend. It was maddening, and he was at a loss for what to do about it. His arm felt limp from all the tugging he'd done in a vain attempt to calm his nerves. He shoved his hands into his pockets, only to have one of them seized by a soft, delicate hand.

"Hey Robs," a familiar voice cooed. A pair of delicate palms reached up to caress his face, their touch as soft as a summer breeze. Dora, the girl with the dazzling red hair and sparkling green eyes, smiled up at him with an affectionate look. "You look down, you're missing your mama?" she teased. Her voice was like music to his ears, and her eyes shone with warmth and kindness.

In response, Robert smiled and shook his head.

"Then what's up? Why the face? Is it about Jackson?" she pressed on, concerned.

"No, I'm fine," he replied, forcing a smile. He grasped her hand firmly, hoping to reassure her that he was okay. Though he was clearly trying to hide his true feelings.

As they walked by, Robert caught sight of two brown haired boys, who were busy peddling newspapers to a cluster of enthusiastic students. "Tom and Zarie," Robert thought, rolling his eyes. "Who'd still be buying their papers?" he wondered aloud.

"The juniors mostly," Dora chimed in. "They're still easily impressed by Tom and Zarie's antics," she shrugged. "They'll grow out of it eventually, like we did."

Robert nodded, a faint smile on his face, "Yeah."

But Dora's gaze shifted to his face. "Still doesn't explain why you look troubled," she said, slipping her hand in his.

The gentle touch would have had a soothing effect on Robert, but her words immediately caused him to recall the haunting voice, and his expression turned depressed. "I'm okay, Dora. Really," he reassured her, attempting to sound convincing.

"Alright then," she said, suppressing her curiosity. She noticed that his hands were sandy, as if he'd been building sandcastles, but she decided not to pry. "How was your night?" She asked instead, trying to change the subject.

Robert hesitated, then shrugged.

"My night?" He asked, feigning ignorance, "I'm not a wizard, so I can't possibly know anything about my night," he smiled mischievously. She would never forget that smile that always came before his fanciful explanations.

"Care to explain?" She asked, forcing a confused expression.

Robert inhaled deeply, "I'm not a nocturnal spirit or some magic person who haunts people's dreams and roams the night while everyone else is fast asleep," he explained with an apprehensive grin. "While people are asleep, they're not conscious of their surroundings, so they wouldn't know anything about the night," he ended, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. In truth, he wished he could believe what he just said. He wanted to dismiss everything that had happened the night before as a mere dream, but the voice that kept calling out to him from inside his head was a harsh reminder that it had all been real.

"Yesterday it was dragons, today it's nocturnal spirits and magic. Seriously, what's going on in that head of yours, Robert?" Dora said, shaking her head and chuckling. "And why do I get the feeling you really want to be a spirit and fly around during the night?" she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Robert was immediately reminded of the voice, making him wonder if it was a ghost that had haunted him the night before. The other students had often shared stories of ghosts on the school grounds, with one particularly notable tale being about 'The Beast of Burden'.

But wait... what if it was the Beast of Burden that had haunted him the previous night? Robert thought, but quickly dismissed the idea as absurd. After all, the Beast of Burden was a fictional monster concocted by Tom and Zarie in 9th grade to kickstart their school newspaper business, called The Tazers. Robert had always found the duo annoying, as they would sensationalize trending student news and twist it into attention-grabbing articles. Although their antics had eventually led the principal to establish a policy against targeting specific students and teachers in their writings, Robert knew the Beast of Burden was nothing more than a fabrication.

"Now that I think about it," he said, opting not to answer Dora's question, "It is possible that someone could have knowledge of the night while they sleep."

"Jeez, Robert." Dora rolled her eyes with resignation. "One minute you're saying one thing, and the next you're saying the complete opposite. This isn't exactly new territory for you though." She sighed, a look of weariness crossing her face. His unpredictability was something she found both frustrating and fascinating.

Robert chuckled and continued, "You know, if one's 'night' was chilly or if they were hearing voices..."

"Okay, I get it," she cut in, "Wait... did you just say 'hearing voices'?"

"Don't worry about it," Robert replied quickly with a reassuring smile. She squeezed his hands and returned his smile as they continued on their way to class. Her eyes sparkled in the morning light, and he felt a warmth in his heart that he couldn't explain. The pressure of the voice seemed to dissipate with her presence.

Robert and Dora's friendship had blossomed since 7th grade, evolving from a casual acquaintance to something more meaningful and intimate. Although they were in different academic tracks - Dora in sciences, Robert in arts - they shared a special bond, both being in the 11th grade.

After parting ways with Dora, Robert walked into his classroom, his usual routine of shaking hands and greeting his classmates followed like clockwork, during which he noticed a few grains of sand on his palm. Though he seemed popular, it was clear he didn't have close friendships with many of his classmates, only exchanging handshakes with a few of the boys and giving a wave and a smile to a few of the girls. He was well-liked, but kept to himself.

On his way towards his desk, Robert caught snippets of hushed conversations. He listened to whispers mentioning himself, Jackson, and Vanessa, discussing the events of the previous day.

He let out a dismissive chuckle as he settled into his seat at his desk. But at that moment, Jackson, a tall, black-haired, and remarkably handsome boy from the science class, sauntered into the classroom, his usual confident stride drawing all eyes to him. The class erupted into cheerful greetings as everyone clamored to shake hands with or talk to one of the most adored student in the 11th grade. Robert scoffed as he watched the scene play out. It was just another typical day at school, Jackson the center of attention while he sat quietly at his desk. Even Jackson had to shake his hand, but Robert barely acknowledged him, his eyes fixed on his books.

Although Jackson and Robert had been classmates for what seemed like forever, the former had never once taken notice of the latter—that was, until a certain incident unfolded. Just a day earlier, the girl Jackson had long admired rebuffed his advances in front of the boys' hostel, unfavorably comparing him to none other than Robert.

Robert happened to be among the bystanders who witnessed the incident, leaving him perplexed as to why Vanessa would have drawn such a comparison. Why drag him into her complicated relationships? Why did she have to mention him at all? Why not compare Jackson to someone else?

This unwanted attention was the last thing Robert needed, especially since it would have been exactly the kind of scandalous fodder that Tom and Zarie would have exploited if they hadn't been banned from writing about students. No doubt, they would have sensationalized the story, distorting the facts and disrupting the fragile peace Robert was trying to maintain at school.

In the present moment, Jackson gave Robert a strange and almost threatening look, just after their hands had parted from their customary greeting, before continuing to greet the rest of his classmates.

This brief, yet chilling, moment gave Robert a stark realization - the once-benign non-interaction between himself and Jackson was about to be irrevocably altered. Today, he knew everything was about to change. Having learned from life's trickeries, he had realised that trouble always finds you, regardless of how hard you try to remain under the radar.

After making sure to exchange greetings with everyone in the 11th grade art class, Jackson exited the classroom with a confident air, acknowledging his female admirers who lingered in the hallway with a wave. As he proceeded down the stairs to the junior classrooms, he was captivated by the sight of a familiar stunning figure. Her lustrous black hair cascaded down her back in perfectly straight strands, adding to her already impeccable appearance, and her neatly pressed school uniform and confident demeanor combined to create an aura of undeniable charm and elegance.

While Jackson's charm seemed to have won over every girl in the 11th grade, it had failed miserably with Vanessa. What made matters worse was that he found himself developing feelings for the girl. Despite his growing affection, Vanessa showed no sign of reciprocation. This was evident from the frown that instantly appeared on her usually radiant and cheerful face immediately she laid eyes on him.

As she proceeded up the stairs, Jackson couldn't help but admired her graceful figure, her lush black hair, her confident and enchanting vibes, her slim and sexy physique even though she was only sixteen. He couldn't help but fantasize about what it would be like to be with her, but from recent events, he knew it was nothing more than a pipe dream.

Just as she walked past him, he held her back and they faced each other, their eyes met abruptly before she looked away.

"Vanessa, come on," Jackson urged, his voice tinged with desperation. "I've tried everything - gifts, confessions, but you're still shutting me down. What else can I do?" He sounded genuinely worried, as if he truly didn't know what else he could do to win her over. Being rejected in front of the boys' hostel the previous day was one of the most humiliating thing that ever happened to him.

Vanessa had expected the question, her heart sank as she fixed her eyes on his. Back in 10th grade, Jackson was someone she thought of as a close friend. They'd gotten along great, had a lot of similar interests, and could talk for hours on end. But as time went on, Jackson had started to act a bit more possessive of her time and attention. He'd seemed to develop a more romantic interest in her, but she just wanted to stay friends.

"Jackson, we've been over this so many times," she said, struggling to maintain her composure. "I don't have feelings for you, okay? Not right now, at least. You remember what I told you about Robert. If you had even a hint of his kindness, humility, and sweetness, maybe I'd have considered your proposal. But let's be real, you're not exactly the understated type. Moreover, every girl in the 11th grade swoons over you, Jackson, and that's just not what I'm looking for." It was as if she'd been rehearsing these exact words in her head for a long time. She gently nudged him aside and sashayed to science class, hips swaying with a confident flair.

Jackson clenched his fist in anger as he watched her retreating figure. "Robert? Really?!" he thought. "Is she really into him now?" He pulled out a pocket mirror and gazed into it, admiring his own reflection. "I'm the one who's got it all - looks, charms, the works. I mean, just look at me!" He pounded his fist against the railings and headed down the stairs, his anger boiling over.

As the brief encounter with Vanessa faded from view, Jackson's animosity to Robert, who had been his classmate since seventh grade, intensified. He'd never paid much attention to the boy before, but now that the girl he had feelings for had eyes for the boy, he found himself noticing him in a way he never had. Meanwhile, Robert remained oblivious to all of this, unaware of the turmoil that was brewing in Jackson's mind. But if he had known, he probably would have shrugged it off, too wrapped up in his own life to worry about the drama of others. He literally had enough in his mind to worry about already.

The sun hung high in the sky, its rays glinting off the windows of the school building. The day passed by in a blur of lessons and homework, and before Robert knew it, the final bell was ringing. Following that, the students burst out of the classrooms like a swarm of bees, making their way to the dining hall for lunch.

The dining hall was a vast space, with rows of long tables and benches. The room was buzzing with energy, as students assembled in straight lines and took turns to receive their food. The noise level in the hall rose continuously, as conversations flowed and laughter rang out.

Eventually, Robert recieved his lunch (Mashed potatoes, gravy and a piece of meat) and moved to his favorite spot; at the very corner of the dining, where he could eat in relative peace and quiet.

While he ate, he found himself crunching on something hard in his mashed potatoes. He stopped eating and looked down at his plate, spotting several small grains of sand. Confused, he turned his hands over and looked at his palms, which were to his amazement, very sandy. He had washed and dried them before lunch, so how could there be sand on his palm? He shook his head, trying to put it out of his mind.

When all of a sudden...

"ROBERT!" the deep voice called again in his head which greatly startled him.

"What the hell..?" Robert felt so confused and frustrated and he pulled his hair angrily. Why was this happening to him? Was he being haunted? Was he hallucinating? What the heck was really happening to him!

The dining hall was filled with the clatter of forks and knives against plates and the scraping of benches which drowned out any sign of Robert's frustration. The other diners were too absorbed in their own conversations and meals to notice him. Even if they had, they might not have cared - it was just another day in the dining hall. But for Robert, it was anything but ordinary. He hoped for a distraction from whatever was troubling him.

But at that moment, the entire dining hall erupted into cheers, catching Robert off guard. Confused, he scanned the hall, his eyes landing on the school prefect in charge of games and sports, a muscular 12th grader, beaming as he exited the hall. Robert realized he must have missed an announcement, distracted as he was by the mysterious voice. He tapped the student beside him and asked what the prefect had said.

Tom's face lit up. "There's a match this afternoon between the 11th and 12th graders - the last one before midterms!" He let out a whoop, yelling across the benches, "Zarie, get the notepad ready!"

Robert's face broke into a smile. Being an elite player on the 11th grade team, he felt a surge of excitement. He cheered along with the others, but his voice was lost in the cacophony. Notwithstanding, the prospect of the match filled him with excitement and joy, and at that moment, he completely forgot about the voice.