The lights dimmed.
Conversations faded into scattered whispers as the auditorium quieted. Teachers began guiding students into their seats, and the principal stepped onto the stage with a practiced smile.
But Kai wasn't watching the principal.
He was watching the curtain.
Something—someone—had moved behind it only moments earlier. A step too soft to belong to a wandering student. A metal clink too familiar to ignore. His instincts, honed over years, didn't raise alarms lightly.
Rowan had noticed it too.
Kai glanced subtly in his direction. Rowan leaned back in his seat, posture deceptively relaxed, but his attention never left the stage. His eyes, sharp and calculating, tracked every slight sway of the curtain.
Aria, several rows ahead, didn't seem to sense anything unusual. She was focused on the principal, pen ready, posture perfect. But even she paused once, eyebrow twitching, as if aware something felt… off.
Kai's fingers curled around the edge of his seat, grounding himself. Not yet. Don't react too early. He wasn't here to draw attention.
The principal tapped the microphone. A loud screech echoed through the room, making students flinch.
"Good morning, everyone! Welcome to another exciting year at Ridgeway Secondary!"
Kai didn't hear the rest.
The curtain moved again—sharper this time, like someone slipping from one position to another. The fabric caught the faintest ripple. No one else noticed.
Except Rowan.
Rowan straightened slightly.
And then Kai saw it: a shadow, low to the ground, crossing from one side of the stage to the other.
Not human-sized.
Small. Fast.
Instinctively, Kai scanned for possibilities. Animal? Unlikely—too precise. Drone? Maybe. A crawling device? Possible. Something planted?
His heartbeat fell into that familiar steady rhythm—the one he hated because it meant danger was real.
But before Kai could decide whether to intervene, the lights flickered.
Students groaned. A few laughed nervously.
The flicker lasted only a second.
But in that second, Kai saw something metallic glint at the bottom edge of the curtain.
Rowan saw it too.
Their eyes met across the auditorium—briefly, silently.
A warning passed between them without a single word.
---
The principal continued the speech, oblivious.
"…and as always, our student council is committed to ensuring a safe and productive academic year!"
A crash interrupted him.
This time, the entire auditorium reacted.
Something had fallen behind the curtain—a heavy object hitting wood, followed by a thud and a sharp metallic rattle. Students gasped. Teachers looked at one another, confused.
Aria stood immediately.
"Sir," she called to a nearby staff member, "something's happening backstage."
The staff member hesitated, unsure, but Aria didn't wait. She was already weaving between seats toward the aisle.
Lila half-rose from her chair, unsure whether to follow. She shot Kai a quick glance—curious, not worried.
But Kai wasn't looking at her.
He was already analyzing.
A fall. A metallic rattle. Something moving where it shouldn't. And one more detail—
A narrow slit of light appeared beneath the curtain, just for a moment, illuminating dust floating in the air.
Then something darted across that light, quick and purposeful.
Not an accident.
Kai made his decision.
He stood.
Rowan stood at the same moment.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
The auditorium was too chaotic now—students murmuring, teachers trying to control the confusion—to notice two boys stepping quietly toward the backstage exit near the side wall.
Aria, farther ahead, glanced back just long enough to spot Kai heading the same direction. Suspicion flickered across her face, but she didn't stop him. Instead, she tightened her grip on her prefect badge and pushed through the last few rows, reaching the side door first.
Kai and Rowan followed.
---
The backstage area was dim and cluttered—stacks of props, folded scenery boards, stray equipment. Dust floated in the faint light from a single hanging bulb.
Aria was the first to speak.
"Something fell. I'm checking it out. You two—why are you back here?"
Kai didn't answer. Rowan didn't either.
Aria narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you're just curious."
Rowan pointed toward the floor.
"Tracks."
Aria blinked. "What?"
Kai saw them now—faint marks on the dusty wooden boards. Thin, evenly spaced, like something with small wheels or legs had moved through. They led behind a stack of lighting equipment.
Aria followed the line of tracks, frowning. "That wasn't here this morning."
Kai stepped forward quietly, keeping his weight centered on the balls of his feet. He reached the equipment stack and scanned behind it.
Nothing.
But the tracks continued under the shelf.
Rowan crouched. "It's small. Fast."
Kai nodded. "Purposeful."
Aria looked between them, confused but determined. "A device? A prank? Someone messing with the assembly?"
Kai didn't speak. Something else caught his attention.
A thin metallic thread stuck to the underside of the shelf—almost invisible. It glinted when he tilted his head.
Rowan noticed it too.
"That's not school equipment," Rowan said quietly.
Kai reached toward it, cautious, and touched the edge with his fingertip.
It wasn't wire.
It was part of something larger. Something that had been dragged through here.
But before Kai could examine it further—
A sound echoed deeper backstage.
A soft whirring.
Then a tiny click.
Rowan stood instantly. Aria stiffened.
Kai turned sharply toward the noise.
At the far edge of the backstage area, just beyond the storage crates, something moved—fast, slipping out of sight before he could see it fully. Metal glinted. A faint red light blinked once.
Then it vanished between two curtains leading to the equipment hallway.
Aria looked at Kai, her expression firm. "If that's something dangerous, we need to report it—"
"No." Rowan's voice was calm but absolute. "If we tell teachers now, they'll shut down everything without knowing what it is. We need to see it first."
Aria stared at him. "And why should I trust your judgment?"
Rowan didn't flinch. "You shouldn't. Trust your eyes."
He pointed to the spot where the red light had flashed.
Aria hesitated.
Kai, however, already knew: someone had planted something here. A device or tool. Maybe surveillance. Maybe sabotage. And whoever it belonged to wasn't careless—they were precise.
Just like Rowan.
Just like Kai.
Aria finally exhaled, her voice steady. "Fine. We track it. But the second something goes wrong, I report it."
Kai nodded once.
Rowan smirked lightly—not in amusement, but in acknowledgment.
Three students. Three different motives. One mystery.
They moved into the equipment hallway, quiet and deliberate, following the faint tracks of whatever had escaped the stage.
Kai didn't know what waited ahead.
But he knew one thing with certainty:
This school wasn't ordinary.
And neither were the people in it.