A crimson battlefield stretched endlessly under a sky choked with thick, swirling smoke. The air reeked of blood, burnt flesh, and the metallic tang of steel. Corpses of monstrous beasts and fallen warriors littered the ground, their lifeless eyes staring into the abyss. The distant cries of the dying mixed with the roar of flames consuming the wreckage of war.

Beyond the blood-soaked horizon, the battle still raged. The sky trembled with the howls of winged creatures, their shrieks piercing through the chaos like death's symphony.

Amidst the carnage, a lone figure stood, his dark purple hair matted with sweat and dirt. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling from exhaustion, yet his blue eyes burned with defiance.

A sea of enemies closed in on him, their weapons raised, their eyes filled with murderous intent. The ground shook under their charge, a deafening stampede of war cries and snarls filling the air.

But the boy did not flinch.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. A flicker of black fire sparked at the edge of the blade, twisting and writhing like a living shadow. The heat licked at his skin, yet he did not waver. Slowly, he took his stance—feet grounded, blade poised, eyes locked onto the coming storm.

And then—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A blaring alarm shattered the battlefield.

With a sharp gasp, the boy jolted upright, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His forehead was damp with sweat, his hands clutching at the sheets as if expecting to find his sword still in his grip. But instead of the battlefield's stench of blood and fire, he was met with the familiar scent of books and fresh morning air.

The battlefield was gone.

Reality settled in as he reached out and slammed the alarm clock off. Silence filled the room, save for his heavy breathing. He ran a hand through his dark purple hair, frustration flickering in his golden eyes.

"Why do I keep seeing this dream again and again...?" he muttered to himself.

His room was a typical teenager, yet distinctly his. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with everything from textbooks to fantasy novels. A study desk sat near the window, papers and neatly arranged stationery giving away his studious nature. His uniform hung over a chair, crisp and ready for another school day. Despite the stacks of books and notes, the room was surprisingly tidy—a testament to his disciplined habits as a top student.

He exhaled, shaking off the remnants of the dream. It felt so real, yet it was nothing more than a recurring nightmare. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

A voice called out from downstairs, breaking his thoughts. "Lukas! Hurry up and come down for breakfast! You're late for your hill-climbing trip!"

Lukas's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh crap!" he yelped, springing out of bed. Panic surged through him as he grabbed his uniform, throwing it on hastily before rushing to the bathroom. He splashed cold water onto his face, barely registering the chill as he rinsed off the remnants of sleep.

Still fastening his buttons, he bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen. His uncle, a man in his early thirties with thinning hair and rectangular glasses perched on his nose, stood by the stove, setting down a plate of toast, omelets, and bacon.

"You almost overslept again," his uncle remarked, smirking as he sat down at the table.

Lukas plopped into his seat, still catching his breath. "I know, I know..." he mumbled, reaching for his toast.

His uncle took a sip of his coffee and glanced at Lukas. "So, how was the test? Let me guess—A+ again?"

Lukas nodded while continuing to eat hurriedly.

His uncle chuckled, a warm smile on his face. "You still have a bit of time. Go slow. Here, drink this before you go." He passed Lukas a glass of orange juice.

Lukas took the glass and drank, then looked down for a moment. "You know... sometimes I think about how different things could have been."

Lukas's gaze turned distant. The memories were always there, lurking in the background. The accident that took his parents. The wreckage. The hushed voices calling it a miracle that he survived. And after that, the quiet but unwavering presence of his uncle, stepping in without hesitation.

For the past six years, they had lived together. His uncle, despite his busy career, never once treated him like a burden. If anything, he was the only person Lukas could be himself around. They bickered constantly—his uncle nagging him about staying up too late reading, Lukas scolding him for skipping meals—but those arguments always ended in laughter. A strange, unspoken bond tethered them together.

Even so… it bothered Lukas that his uncle remained single, never once considering his own happiness. Every time he brought it up, his uncle just laughed it off.

His uncle's expression softened, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out and ruffled Lukas's hair, offering silent reassurance.

The two of them resumed their breakfast, the warm scent of eggs and crispy bacon filling the air as the morning sunlight streamed through the window.

Lukas, after finishing his meal, dashed out of the kitchen, grabbing his blazer and bag. He hurriedly put on his shoes while calling out, "Bye, Uncle!" before sprinting toward the door. His uncle waved a hand in farewell, chuckling. "Take care! Don't be late!" he called after him as Lukas disappeared outside.

Lukas reached his school, a large campus with towering buildings painted in shades of white and blue. The schoolyard buzzed with energy as students rushed around, some chatting excitedly, others dragging their feet, still half-asleep. The morning air carried the scent of damp earth and fresh grass, and the distant hum of teachers preparing for the day echoed through the hallways. In front of the school stood several buses, lined up for departure, their engines humming as students assembled near them.

Lukas spotted a group of students waving in his direction. "Lukas! Over here!" a boy with glasses called out, standing alongside three others.

Noticing them, Lukas dashed toward his friends.

"You somehow made it, mister latecomer. I actually thought you wouldn't show up," a girl in the group teased, crossing her arms with a smirk.

"Sorry for being late, guys," Lukas said with a sheepish grin, brushing his hair back, unintentionally making himself look like a total fool.

"Let's get in. We can chat inside," another boy suggested as they boarded the bus.

Here's an improved and polished version of your scene with better flow, dialogue, and descriptions:

The teacher at the front did a quick headcount, then nodded in satisfaction. With a low rumble, the bus roared to life, rolling out of the school gates.

Lukas sat by the window, arms crossed, his head already tilting slightly as exhaustion weighed on him. Next to him, his best friend, Alex, was scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing at Lukas with amusement.

Lukas barely lasted five minutes before his eyelids drooped shut. He had been up the entire night, buried in books about black holes and supernovas. He didn't even remember when he drifted off—only that one moment he was staring at the endless road ahead, and the next, a deafening voice shattered his peace.

"WAKE UP!"

Lukas jolted awake with a sharp inhale, eyes darting around wildly. Laughter erupted all around him. Alex and a few others snickered, some barely holding back their grins.

Lukas groaned, rubbing his temples. "Seriously, guys? That's not funny." His golden eyes flashed with irritation as he leaned back into his seat. "I was up all night reading theories on black holes and supernovas. Let me have some shut-eye."

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, we're in eighth grade, and you're reading college-level physics books. You might actually be part alien."

A voice from the seat behind them chimed in. "Well, what do you expect? It's Lukas, after all. Mister Abnormal."

Lukas sighed and turned slightly to glare at the speaker. "No one asked for your commentary, Ruby. Go back to your seat."

Ruby smirked. "Okay, Mister Abnormal."

Alex stifled another laugh while Lukas rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back toward the window. The bus rolled on, the chatter of students filling the air as he tried—once again—to grab a few moments of rest.

Lukas leaned his head against the window, watching the blur of buildings and trees pass by. He had seen it all before. The same roads, the same houses, the same sky stretching endlessly above. No matter where he looked, nothing ever changed.

Earth was a dull, restrictive place.

There was nothing left to learn here. The laws of physics had already been written, the mysteries of the universe already charted by minds far greater than his. The only thing that had ever fascinated him—science—had turned into a dead-end. He had devoured every book, absorbed every theory, and yet, what good did any of it do?

It wasn't like he could use it.

If he tried to build something revolutionary? Straight to jail. If he tested an experiment outside the boundaries of what society deemed "acceptable"? Arrested for breaking some safety law. Innovation was shackled, creativity bound in bureaucratic red tape. The only ones allowed to create anything groundbreaking were those at the top—scientists funded by corporations, researchers trapped in an endless loop of paperwork and politics.

He scoffed under his breath. What was the point of knowing everything if he couldn't do anything with it?

This world was so… ordinary. Everything followed a pattern. People were born, they studied, they worked, they grew old, and then they died—just another cycle in an existence that refused to change.

Science had been his only escape, the one thing that made this place tolerable. But now? Now, he had indulged in it so much that there was nothing left. No more secrets, no more discoveries to chase. The thrill of learning had faded, leaving behind nothing but a hollow realization.

He was trapped in a world too small for his mind.

Lukas closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe if he slept, he could dream of something more. Something beyond this dull planet.

After a few hours, the bus reached the foot of a towering hill, nearly a kilometer tall. A small tourist center sat at its base, a modest building surrounded by benches and a few vending machines. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, carrying a faint hint of roasted snacks from a nearby food stall. There weren't many people around, just a handful of travelers preparing for their hike. The area had a peaceful, quiet charm, despite the distant chatter of students stretching their legs.

The teacher stood at the front and clapped his hands. "Listen up! This will take three hours to reach the top. There are no shops along the way, so if you need water or snacks, get them now."

Upon hearing this, students rushed toward the building, eager to grab supplies. Lukas, however, stayed put, his gaze drawn to the sky. A gentle breeze had picked up, rustling the trees. The air felt heavier, and dark clouds were beginning to gather. He couldn't take his eyes off them.

"Lukas! Come on, let's grab something!" Alex called.

"I'm fine," Lukas replied, still staring upward. Something about the shifting clouds unsettled him.