"Do I have to fucken repeat myself again? I said everyone should go back into their tents until I say you can come out!"
Mr. Knuckles screamed at the large group of whining students standing in front of him, veins bulging along his long, hairy neck as he glared at them with hate in his eyes.
He was standing at the top of Mount Clinton alongside forty students who were about to graduate from Kayiron High School that very month.
It was a tradition the school had followed since its founding days.
Every final-year class was taken on a camping trip to the mountain before they went their separate ways into different universities and futures.
At least, that was what it was supposed to be.
Because that afternoon, right after they had finished setting up their tents, a thick, chilling fog had appeared out of nowhere.
Not the normal kind.
This was the kind of fog that swallowed everything in front of you whole. The kind that sent a strange chill through your bones, like someone had opened a freezer and shoved your whole body inside.
And now, it had already covered the city below and half the mountain.
In a few more seconds, it would cover them too.
The students whispered among themselves in frustration—some uneasy, some pretending to be brave even though the strange atmosphere was clearly getting under their skin.
Suddenly, from the middle of the murmuring crowd, someone raised his hand.
"Sir, I have a question."
Milo's voice stood out from the others.
With his hand raised, it was easy enough for everyone to locate him. He had average height, wearing large round glasses that covered a good portion of his face.
Just below his right yellow eye was a small vertical scar that gave him a slightly unusual look.
His black hair had also been badly sunburned over time, giving it a yellowish tint in some areas—a result of not having all the proper hair products that most of the richer students casually took for granted.
Mr. Knuckles rolled his eyes before answering in the most irritated tone possible.
"Yes, Mr. Milo Simpson?"
Milo cleared his throat.
"Sir, I think the precautions you've taken are a little off the charts. I know having this kind of fog in the afternoon is weird, but can't we—"
"Can't we what?"
Mr. Knuckles cut him off before he could even finish.
The teacher took a step forward, his expression souring even further.
"Just because you got an A in Geography doesn't mean you can boss me around," he snapped. "I'm a successful man with a Master's degree, so why should I listen to poor trash like you who survives off other students' leftovers?"
The words landed hard.
Some of the students behind Milo started laughing.
Not too loud.
But loudly enough for him to hear.
Milo slowly lowered his hand, his eyes falling to the ground as a familiar heat of humiliation crept into his face.
This was how life had always been for him.
He came from the poorest family in the city.
His father had once been known as the city's hunter—a title passed down through their family for generations. Whenever a snake or wild animal showed up anywhere near Clinton City, his father would rush there with his old custom katana and deal with it.
It sounded respectable in theory.
But in modern times, it was almost useless.
Concrete had swallowed most of the wild spaces, and animals barely came near the city anymore. The job that once fed generations had slowly become little more than a dying tradition.
And if that wasn't cruel enough, when Milo was ten years old, his father suffered a stroke that left parts of his body numb and weakened. The doctors blamed stress and exhaustion, but whatever the reason was, it pushed the family even deeper into poverty.
His mother had it no better.
She worked as a cleaner at Karion High School—the same school Milo attended.
That alone was enough to make him a walking joke.
Many students used it as ammunition to humiliate him whenever they got bored.
And the worst part?
Neither Milo nor his mother could fight back.
School policy didn't allow staff to argue with students, let alone put hands on them. She couldn't quit either, because her small salary was the only thing still keeping food in their house.
Even then, she still endured it all with a smile.
Sometimes she would collect leftovers from events or half-eaten trays thrown away by students and bring them home to cook later.
And Milo…
He was studying at the school under a city council sponsorship. Any violent outburst, any serious complaint—and that scholarship could disappear in an instant.
Something he knew would shatter his parents completely.
"You're going to be successful in the future, honey… I'm sure of it."
That was what his mother always told him.
Sometimes she said it while smiling.
Sometimes while tears dropped from her eyes.
But she always said it.
So Milo forced himself to breathe in slowly and swallowed the bitterness in his throat.
He kept his eyes on the ground while Mr. Knuckles continued speaking to the rest of the students, but Milo wasn't really hearing any of it anymore. His mind had already shut the teacher's voice out like a disease.
Then suddenly—
Two different arms dropped over his shoulders at the same time.
The sudden weight made him jolt slightly out of his thoughts.
A cheerful female voice came from his right.
"Don't listen to him. He's just jealous that you're smarter than him."
Sabrina smiled brightly at him.
Then a familiar male voice came from his left.
"She's right. Being born poor isn't the problem," Jamie said, before lightly punching Milo in the chest. "The real problem is dying poor. And trust me when I say—you're going to be rich one day."
These were his best friends.
Jamie and Sabrina.
They had been by his side since kindergarten.
And even though both of them came from families far richer than his, they had never once treated him differently because of it.
Not like the others.
"Don't try to cheer me up," Milo muttered, though the slight blush on his face betrayed him.
"Nah, bro, we're telling you the truth," Jamie said with complete confidence. "After college, we're all going to become filthy rich."
That made Milo snort quietly.
The two of them always knew exactly what buttons to press whenever he was down. It was almost annoying how effective they were at it.
A small smile finally started to form on his face.
Warmth slowly returning to his chest.
But then—
Swoosh.!!!
The mist finally reached their camping grounds.
It rolled in fast and thing like a living thing swallowing the space around them. A cold chill crawled up everyone's spine almost instantly, and the air became so freezing that some students began trembling on the spot.
Within seconds, visibility started dropping.
People could barely make out each other's faces.
Panic flickered through the crowd.
Some students who had ignored Mr. Knuckles from the beginning suddenly regretted it and rushed toward their tents. Some ran in pairs, others alone, all trying to get back into some kind of warmth before the fog completely swallowed the area.
Milo, Jamie, and Sabrina were no exception.
They quickly made their way toward a bright yellow tent Jamie's father had bought for him specifically for the trip.
But just as they got close—
A voice called out from a nearby tent.
"Sabrina!"
A cool-looking boy stood by the entrance of another tent a few steps away, giving her a look that instantly made his intentions obvious.
William.
Sabrina immediately changed direction.
"My boyfriend is calling me," she said quickly, already moving away. "We'll talk tomorrow. And Milo—you'll be fine."
She sounded like she was in a hurry to end the conversation as fast as possible.
One look at her face and anyone could tell she had no intention of wasting another second out there.
Milo stood still and watched her go.
His expression tightened.
I can't believe she's dating that guy.
The thought burned in his mind, jealousy creeping into his chest.
William was exactly the kind of person Milo hated.
Confident.
Smooth.
Too handsome for his own good.
And the type of guy girls always seemed to lose control over.
For a brief moment, Milo forgot about the freezing fog around them completely.
"Dude, come inside!"
Jamie's voice pulled him back to reality.
Jamie had already entered the yellow tent and wrapped himself in a blanket, waiting for warmth to take over.
Milo hesitated for only a second before opening the flap and climbing in after him.
He quickly covered himself with his own blanket—a tired old thing patched together so many times that it looked like it had survived a car crash.
Outside, the mist continued to thicken.
Inside, the two boys stayed quiet.
Everyone had settled down now.
Just waiting for the strange fog to disappear.
… … … … …
The sun rose early the next morning.
By five o'clock, it was already shining so aggressively that it almost felt like noon.
The heavy fog from yesterday had completely vanished.
As if it had never even been there.
Some students were already awake and heading toward the toilets on the right side of the campgrounds, where there was a clear view of the city below. Others were still inside their tents, half asleep, while a few had already started chatting lazily around the area.
Milo and Jamie were among those already outside.
They sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk.
Milo was quieter than usual.
Not because of what had happened with Mr. Knuckles yesterday—he had already forced himself to get over that.
This was about Sabrina.
And Jamie could tell.
"I know you had a crush on her, but she's dating William now. You're going to have to accept that sooner or later."
Milo exhaled slowly.
"I know," he said.
"But he's just a player. In the five years I've known him, he's dated more than fifty girls, slept with them, then dumped them. So I don't get why she's even with him."
His jaw tightened.
"Why do girls always like bad boys?"
Jamie was just about to reply—
When suddenly—
A terrified female scream tore through the entire camping grounds.
"Aaaahhh!!"