Far away from the teenage discussions and late-night theories, a monastery sat atop a towering mountain, its ancient stone walls bathed in the ethereal glow of both the night and day sky.
This place existed beyond time, beyond the ordinary perception of mortals.
At the edge of the cliff, a tall pale man with long white hair stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
His piercing green eyes, set against the unsettling blackness of his sclera, scanned the sprawling cities below.
Every detail, every movement, every crime, and every breath of the humans was laid bare before him.
His gaze was unflinching, his expression one of cold detachment.
Heimdall, the ever-watchful guardian of the gods, stood vigilant, observing the fragile beings below with a mixture of disdain and disappointment.
"Look at them... weak. Fragile. It makes me sick."
His gaze lingered on the countless transgressions, the corruption, the lies. Each human stumbling through their lives, ignorant of the cosmic forces at play.
A heavy hand clapped onto his shoulder, breaking his intense focus. Thor, the god of thunder, stood behind him, his broad figure towering over the edge of the cliff, his long red beard catching the light of the divine skies.
"What are you doing, Heimdall? Your watch is endless, but you seem more troubled than usual."
Heimdall turned slightly, his cold eyes meeting Thor's.
"Look at them. The mortals. They are a disgrace to the divine.
So weak, so fragile, yet they believe they control their fate.
It sickens me to see them stumble through their meaningless lives, unaware of the power they were once meant to carry."
Thor's expression softened, though he remained stern.
"They are flawed, yes. But they are also capable of more than you give them credit for."
Heimdall's face full of disapproval.
"Capable? All I see are failures. The gods have abandoned them for centuries, and look at what they've become. A shell of what they could have been."
Thor sighed, looking out over the vast world below.
"You see weakness, but I see potential. The time of the Chosen Ones may return sooner than you think."
Heimdall's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening behind his back.
"If it does, then I will be watching. And when they fail... I will not be so forgiving."
Thor stepped back, watching Heimdall with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
The guardian's bitterness toward the mortals was growing, and even Thor could sense the dangerous path Heimdall's thoughts were leading him down.
As the two gods stood in silence, the world below continued its endless cycle, unaware of the divine eyes watching from above.
The next morning arrived, and the sun's warm light seeped through the curtains of Raiden's bedroom.
He lay in bed for a few more moments before begrudgingly sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The thoughts of last night's conversation with Zohar lingered, but the mundane routine of a school day began to push those mysteries to the back of his mind.
Raiden got out of bed and glanced at himself in the mirror, a familiar sight. His split-coloured hair, one half red and the other black, was still a mess from sleep.
His dark eyes stared back at him, reminding him that today was just another day to make it through.
He dressed quickly, tossing on his school uniform and grabbing his backpack. Before heading downstairs, he shot a quick glance at his laptop, the forums still open. With a sigh, he shut it and made his way out the door.
Meanwhile, across town, Zohar was in his own world, lazily getting ready for the day. His black skin gleamed in the morning light as he combed his Afro into place, a smirk tugging at his lips as he remembered last night's conversation. His sharp brown eyes glanced at the clock—he was running late, as usual.
Throwing on his school uniform, he grabbed his things and rushed out the door, his mind already forming sarcastic retorts to throw at Raiden and Kaito later.
In another part of town, Kaito had already been up for a while.
His bedroom was neat and orderly, his school uniform ironed and perfectly in place. His deep blue eyes scanned over his notebook as he read through his assignments one last time before closing it and sliding it into his bag.
His black hair, with its frosty blue highlights, was tied back in a loose ponytail, keeping his bangs out of his face. Unlike Zohar, Kaito took pride in being on time—punctuality was a virtue, after all.
As he slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way out, a thought crossed his mind "Did Raiden and Zohar actually take those forums seriously"?
Today, he'd find out.
At School
Raiden, Zohar, and Kaito met up near the front gates of the school. The usual bustle of students filled the air, with conversations about homework, classes, and social media trends.
"So, Raiden... did you look at the forums like I suggested?"
Raiden glanced over at Zohar, who was already rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, I did. I actually showed Zohar, too."
Zohar scoffed, adjusting his backpack.
"Oh yeah, you really got me hooked. Next thing you know, I'll be building a shrine to Zeus in my backyard."
Kaito grinned but didn't let the sarcasm faze him.
"Hey, don't knock it. There's more truth to those stories than you'd think."
Zohar shook his head, but Raiden seemed a little more thoughtful. He glanced at Kaito.
"I mean... it's hard to deny there's some interesting stuff in there."
Before the conversation could go any further, two figures walked by, catching their attention.
Kirashi and Shigenori were making their way through the crowd, with Shigenori trailing just a little behind his older sister.
Kirashi's tight black uniform stood out, highlighting her chubby frame, and her blazing purple eyes scanned the area with a bored expression.
Her black hair with ultra green highlights swayed as she moved.
Shigenori, on the other hand, was a little more excitable.
His bright green eyes and slightly more slender figure contrasted with his sister's serious demeanour. As they passed the group, Shigenori nudged Kirashi and whispered loud enough for them to hear.
"Hey, isn't that the boy you like? Raiden, right?"
Kirashi's eyes widened, and her face flushed a deep red.
"Shigenori, you little—"
She reached out to grab her brother, but he danced away with a mischievous grin, laughing.
"What? You're the one who said he's cool!"
The siblings quickly devolved into a argument, Kirashi attempting to catch him as Shigenori ducked and dodged her swipes.
Raiden, Zohar, and Kaito exchanged amused looks, not entirely sure how to react to the sudden drama playing out in front of them.
"Uh... did I miss something?"
Zohar laughed, giving Raiden a nudge.
"Looks like someone's got a fan."
Kaito chuckled, but his attention quickly shifted back to the topic at hand.
"Anyway, Raiden, just think about what we talked about. There's more to all this than meets the eye. You'll see."
Raiden nodded, though his mind was still distracted by Kirashi's outburst. As the group continued walking toward their first class, the morning began to unfold like any other—though the seed of curiosity planted by Kaito was already starting to grow.
The morning classes began as usual.
The classroom was filled with the quiet murmur of students scribbling notes, half-listening to the teacher's lecture about history.
Raiden sat at his desk near the back of the class, absentmindedly tapping his pen against his notebook. He wasn't really focusing on the lesson—his thoughts kept drifting back to the forums and the strange stories about gods and chosen ones.
Zohar, sitting next to him, was much less subtle about his disinterest. His head rested lazily in his hand, eyes glazed over as the teacher's voice droned on.
Kaito, however, was fully engaged, his eyes fixed on the board, jotting down notes with his usual precision.
He glanced over at Raiden, giving him a small nudge to focus, but Raiden just shot him a look that said, "Yeah, right."
As the minutes ticked by, the monotony of the class lulled the room into a state of quiet boredom. The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson. Raiden, Zohar, and Kaito packed up their things and headed toward the cafeteria, weaving through the crowded halls.