A young boy with jet-black hair and a bored, distant look walked down the sidewalk, his bag slung over one shoulder—probably on his way to class.
"Ugh… I wonder if anything interesting will finally happen today. I still don't get why I need to go to school when I can just learn everything on my own," he muttered, dragging his feet like he was marching toward the most pointless task in the world.
When he arrived at school, he entered the classroom. The usual chaos was there—students chatting, laughing, moving to join their friend groups. No one even glanced in his direction.
He walked straight to the back corner and sat down. Alone. His expression was flat, his eyes tired, like he'd already accepted this kind of life.
"I hate this place."
---
Not long after, the classroom's noise was silenced by the arrival of a tall, imposing woman. She walked in, her presence commanding enough to make the students straighten their backs and fall silent. She took her seat at the front, radiating authority.
"It's time for attendance. Listen carefully," she said with a cold, calm voice, flipping through her roster.
"I wonder if Mrs. Nike even noticed I was gone yesterday. Probably not. I doubt anyone here even knows my name," the boy thought, resting his chin on his palm.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she skipped me altogether..."
But just as he was sinking into that thought, a voice snapped him out of it.
"Amos, where were you yesterday? You didn't even bother to report your absence at the office this morning," Nike said sharply.
Amos froze. Reflexively, he straightened in his seat, eyes wide. For a moment, the room fell silent. The students turned their heads, confused.
"Amos?" some of them whispered. "Who's that?"
Looking embarrassed, Amos spoke up, his voice hesitant.
"They needed me at my orphanage yesterday… so I couldn't come to class."
The whispers grew louder.
"Orphanage?"
"I didn't even notice he wasn't here…"
Nike, realizing the attention now focused on Amos, quickly intervened.
"Quiet, all of you. We'll talk more in my office, Amos. For now, let's focus on the lesson."
The murmurs died instantly. No one dared argue with Nike.
---
After class, the students left one by one. Amos was the last to head toward the door, but stopped when Nike called out to him.
"We'll talk in my office before the end of the day. Understood?"
Amos turned back, visibly shaken by her intense gaze. He nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now go. Get ready for your next class," she said, her tone softening a little as he left. She watched him go with a thoughtful expression.
"This kid must have a rough life…" she thought.
---
In the hallway, Amos walked quickly, head down.
"Great… now people are going to start rumors. I didn't want attention," he thought.
But before he could reach his next class, a voice stopped him.
"Hey, you."
He turned to see and it was the typical rich bully profile, his hair was grey, long and he was surrounded by a small group of followers.
"Aren't you the little orphan who got scolded earlier?"
Amos narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't call that being scolded. But hey, coming from a lifeless idiot like you, I'm not surprised."
The hallway buzzed with sudden interest. Students gathered around them.
"Did he really say that?"
"He's dead."
"He has no chance against that guy…"
The bully, encouraged by the attention, grinned wickedly and raised his fist.
"I'm gonna teach you some respect, you little piece of shit"
Amos didn't flinch. He braced himself to dodge, sensing something... off. Something deep in his gut told him this wasn't going to be a normal punch, like if something wants him to lose this fight
And he was right.
The bully's fist Bleaches—covered in a swirling, sinister aura. His eyes went blank and white, filled with a bloodthirsty rage. The students gasped, stepping back in shock.
Even the bully looked confused for a moment, but he seems like he didn't really care, and he blow his punch towards Amos' face incredibly fast.
Amos barely dodged. A shallow cut appeared on his cheek as the fist passed him. The air behind it shimmered with a white, smoky trail.
"What the hell is this…?"
The bully looked like an animal, wild, wanting to kill everything he founds powerful Then him, and without hesitation, charged again—inhumanly fast this time. Amos knew he wouldn't be able to dodge. He raised his arms instinctively, hoping to at least survive the hit.
Time seemed to slow in his mind.
"I didn't think I'd die like this… I wish I could've at least said goodbye to the headmistress at the orphanage…"
But before the blow landed—
Time froze.
Everything turned gray and silent.
Amos slowly opened his eyes. In front of him stood a tall, shadowy figure cloaked in a pitch-black aura. Its voice echoed in his mind.
"I don't have much time, Receptacle. Your Void ability will be unsealed. Avoid dying until I return."
Amos stood frozen, overwhelmed.
"One last thing—don't let the void consume you."
And just like that, the figure vanished.
Time resumed.
The blow was still coming. Amos had no time to react.
But suddenly, a black sphere of energy materialized between him and the bully. The attacker plunged into it, but his body froze in mid-motion, crushed by invisible pressure from every side
He let out a distorted scream before passing out. Then, the sphere vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
The hallway was silent.
The gathered students stared, pale and horrified, not really understanding what did just happened.
Amos, still in shock, looked at his hands.
"Why… why do I feel like that sphere came from me? And more importantly… what the hell is going on?"
---
End of Chapter 1