The sun spilled lazily through the windows of Meekaydow Academy, casting long golden streaks across the desks. Outside, the city of Lisbon moved with effortless rhythm—cars weaving through traffic, chatter drifting in from the sidewalks. But inside the classroom, Akin sat still, detached from the world around him.
His deep chocolate skin nearly blended into the oak of the desk as he leaned into one arm, his gaze fixed on the chaos of the city outside. The world moved fast—far faster than he did—but Akin had never been in a rush. Everything he did was deliberate. Controlled.
His thoughts weren't on the lesson, or the noise, or the world beyond the window.
His thoughts were on legacy.
Maxwell Mendez—his father—was a global titan in the Forex world. The kind of man who could shift markets with a single trade, command rooms with silence, and walk through fire without blinking. To the world, he was a king. To Akin, he was a mountain.
And Akin was determined to climb higher.
Not just to match him. To outdo him. To dominate in ways no one ever had before. Wealth. Power. Respect. Not for the name. For himself.
But right now, all of that ambition was caged behind the silence of a classroom filled with people who barely knew he existed.
Life in Portugal had been… different. In Nigeria, people noticed him. Here? He was just the quiet Black kid in the back of the room. No friends. No attachments. Just silent focus and simmering dreams.
And honestly? He preferred it that way.
Until—
"Akin!" a voice cut through his thoughts. "Let's go, bro!"
Jendol grinned from across the room, backpack slung over one shoulder. The only person who had managed to break through Akin's walls. Outgoing, reckless, but real.
Akin blinked, then nodded. "Lunch," he said quietly, standing.
Just as they reached the door, it creaked open—and in walked Annabel.
Her presence was like a shift in gravity. Tall, elegant, and effortlessly magnetic. Piercing blue eyes. Sharp features. She carried herself like someone who knew she belonged in any room.
But today, something was different.
She clutched a folded piece of paper in one hand, her usual confident energy slightly dimmed.
"Akin, Jendol," she said, her voice melodic but with a trace of urgency. "Homework's due tomorrow. Mr. Alvero asked me to remind you."
Jendol didn't miss a beat. "Appreciate it. You should join us for lunch. Might be the only break you get all week."
Annabel hesitated—just for a moment—then smiled. "Just for a bit."
The three of them headed into the hallway. Students swarmed around them, laughter and chatter bouncing off the walls. But Akin's mind was elsewhere. Again. He couldn't shake the pressure in his chest. The weight of his own expectations. The feeling that… something was coming.
Then it hit him.
A wave of cold.
Not the kind you feel on your skin. The kind that crawls up your spine. The kind that feels like a warning.
Jendol stopped mid-step. "Yo. Do you hear that?"
Akin frowned. "Hear what?"
"The whispers," Jendol said, his eyes darting around. "Like… chanting or something."
Akin strained to listen. All he could hear was the usual background noise—conversations, footsteps, lockers slamming shut.
But then—Annabel froze.
She was staring at the floor, her eyes wide, body stiff.
Akin followed her gaze.
There it was.
A glowing circle etched into the ground, pulsing with shifting symbols and light. Sharp, ancient patterns. Almost… alive. It radiated a strange energy—one Akin had never felt before.
"What the hell…" he whispered, instinctively stepping back.
Jendol's voice cracked. "That's a summoning circle. Like—like from stories. But that's not possible…"
The air grew heavy. The hallway blurred. The whispers grew louder—chanting in a language none of them understood. Akin felt the world tilt.
Annabel tried to speak, but her voice was swallowed by the sound.
And then—the pull.
A force, invisible but undeniable, yanked them all toward the center of the circle.
Akin shouted, but the sound was lost in the storm of wind and light. The floor gave way beneath them. Their bodies lifted, twisted, pulled through a tunnel of raw magic.
The hallway vanished.
The school vanished.
Everything turned to darkness.
When the spinning stopped, Akin gasped for air and stumbled forward. His shoes scraped against stone—ancient stone, cracked and etched with glowing runes.
He looked up.
Towering pillars surrounded him, forming a circle beneath a dark purple sky. The air was cold, thick with mist. Everything felt ancient, sacred… and dangerous.
And then he saw them.
Twelve hooded figures, standing still like statues, their robes black as night. Their faces were hidden, but Akin could feel their eyes on him. Watching. Judging.
This wasn't Portugal.
This wasn't Earth.
This was something else.
Akin's heart thundered in his chest as he whispered, voice low and sharp:
"What did you just drag me into?"