A floating eye, glowing with a dull red aura, glared at the three of us as we slipped through the school gates. The second the clock struck 7:30, a scroll materialized beside it in a puff of golden smoke. Names began to inscribe themselves in glowing ink—those who came late, line by line, locked into the list of shame.
A girl just behind us exhaled in relief. Those behind her? Their groans echoed down the walkway. One guy dropped to his knees like he'd been struck by lightning. "Manual labor again?!" someone muttered.
Yeah. They were definitely getting punished. Probably the usual—clearing sludge from the training grounds or feeding the school wyverns.
Still... better than skipping school entirely. If you missed without a valid reason, you didn't just get punished. You got reported to the Wardens. No one wanted that.
Areim, Trionk, and I slipped into the back of the assembly line. We stood there, bored out of our minds. The school anthem played from the speakers, its majestic trumpets echoing across the courtyard. We just mouthed along, faking the lyrics.
Once the boring ceremonial nonsense ended, we shuffled into class.
We were all in the same room—Class D-4, but we never sat together. I liked the middle row. Areim preferred the back-left corner. Trionk? Full gremlin mode in the far back.
I plopped into my seat and dumped my books on the desk. My seatmate, Jirah, didn't even flinch. He was deep into a game on his mobile, thumbs flying.
"Sup bro," I greeted.
"Yeah, cool," he mumbled, not even looking up.
I snorted and pulled out my own mobile, diving into a round with him. We were halfway through a raid when the classroom door slammed open.
"GOOD MORNING, CLASS!"
The teacher had arrived. Finally. An hour and thirty minutes late, like clockwork.
"Good morning, sir," the class echoed, half-hearted.
But then he said something that shut everyone up.
"Today, your awesome teacher has successfully haggled and bought the ENTIRE DAY from the other teachers!" He threw his arms wide, grinning like a game show host. "So, guess what?"
He paused for dramatic effect.
"We're going on an outing!"
The class erupted like someone had tossed a grenade of pure hype. Bags flew, desks got flipped, and someone actually started beatboxing in the corner.
"Silence!" he shouted over the noise, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Before we go, let me explain what we're dealing with today. Today's lesson isn't just fun—it's science and survival. We're going to observe one of the most dangerous creatures in the coastal zones of Alkirra."
The projector flared to life behind him, revealing a picture of... a shrimp?
"Behold! The Aqualith Shrimp—or what you normies might call a 'pistol shrimp'. But ours? Oh no, this one's been... enhanced."
We leaned in, interest piqued.
"This little guy can snap its claw fast enough to create a cavitation bubble—a tiny pocket of boiling water that collapses with enough force to stun or kill its prey instantly. We're talking sonic booms underwater, people. But that's just your average pistol shrimp."
He clicked to the next slide.
"Ours—Project Thunderclap—has a claw that generates a localized EMP blast. That means any electronics within a ten-foot radius get fried when it snaps. Your phones, your gear, even your defenses—gone. Add to that its cloaking ability and hyper-agility, and what do we have?"
He leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"A shrimp that can assassinate a drone and vanish into the waves like a salty ninja."
The class was now hanging on every word.
"And guess what? You're going to track it. Today's mission is simple: observe, avoid, and survive. First one to log three successful sightings gets extra credit. First one to get zapped by it? Enjoy manual labor for a week."
Silence.
Then someone in the back whispered, "We're gonna die."
The teacher just grinned. "Grab your gear, shrimp bait."
We were definitely gonna die.