Twinlight

Chapter 14: Never Forget Your Comrades

Elian Thorne stared at Nathan Grey, momentarily speechless. After a long beat, Nathan finally stammered, “Bro… I meant asking the officers at the local police station for help. They can’t do anything about stuff like Uncle getting arrested.”

“Then there’s nothing to be done,” Elian shook his head. He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “So… you ran into something seriously weird? What was it?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Nathan mumbled, clamming up instantly.

Elian backed off. If the guy wasn’t spilling, pretending ignorance was his only play. But a suspicion gnawed at him. Could Nathan’s ‘bizarre thing’… be a Countdown on his arm too? Elian’s own had appeared yesterday at 6 PM sharp. He’d ditched study hall right then, bracing for his first crossing at midnight. But the Countdown was invisible to others. Pure speculation.

He studied Nathan: scrawny, undersized, looking like a stiff breeze could knock him over. If Nathan was heading to that brutal Umbra world, surviving seemed like a long shot. Their friendship wasn’t built on shared passions, but shared disasters – both their dads had gambled their families into the gutter. That shared misery had bonded them.

Suddenly, a phone-glued classmate near the back yelped, “Holy mother of—!”

Heads snapped up. Only about a dozen kids were in Class 3, Grade 10 this early. “What’s up?” someone called out.

“Check the trending list! Jacob Whitfield just dropped a bombshell press conference! Claims he crossed over to some mechanized civilization world! Full video’s blowing up!” the kid announced, eyes wide.

Jacob Whitfield. British. Global basketball superstar. Fanbase bigger than some countries.

Phones were whipped out instantly, a wave of bewildered mutters filling the room. Only Elian froze. He knew that crossing. He knew that mechanized civilization. But overseas? Others were experiencing this too? The sheer scale hit him like a physical blow.

Nathan already had the video playing. Elian watched over his shoulder.

Jacob sat behind a polished desk, cameras flashing like a relentless strobe light against the press pack he’d summoned. But the real showstopper was his left arm. Or rather, what replaced it: a sleek, articulated prosthetic of dark metal and exposed, humming components.

The scene cut. Jacob was now center court in an empty arena. From the opposite baseline, he casually lofted the ball with his new left hand. SWISH. The net barely moved. Again. SWISH. And again. SWISH. Ten effortless swishes in a row, each shot laser-precise from impossible range.

“Insane CGI?” Nathan breathed, transfixed. “Some next-gen ad campaign?”

Elian stayed silent. The video was a repost, captions hastily added.

Jacob’s voice boomed, addressing the flashing cameras. “Last night… I found a Countdown on my arm. When it hit zero? I… crossed. Found myself in a world unlike anything you can imagine. Earth… but not ours. Parallel universe? A mechanized civilization centuries ahead. Sun, moon… but a completely different path.”

He raised the gleaming prosthetic. “This came with the trip. Like I swapped places with the poor schmuck who lived there. Don’t ask me the physics – this thing’s stronger than any human limb, faster, unbelievably precise.” His expression hardened. “I’m not here to brag. That place? It’s a meat grinder. Danger everywhere. I’m only talking because I don’t want to vanish into some black site lab. Hear this: I refuse to be anyone’s lab rat! If I disappear… look for me!”

Elian got it instantly. A guy like Jacob couldn’t hide a bionic limb. Knowing the tech involved was beyond anything here, he’d panicked and gone nuclear – announcing it to the world. A messy shield, but a shield nonetheless.

He glanced at Nathan. His scrawny friend sat slack-jawed, eyes huge.

The classroom crackled. Shock warred with disbelief. Was this viral marketing? Deepfake wizardry? But before the buzz could settle, a fresh wave of alerts exploded on phones.

“BREAKING: Tech Exec Found Dead! Body Shows Complex Mechanical Implants Matching Whitfield’s Arm!”

“CLAIM: College Student Says He Crossed! Saw Paragons With Superhuman Powers Beyond Just Machines!”

“EXCLUSIVE: High Schooler Reports Crossing AND Gaining Arcanum Awakening!”

Elian’s brow furrowed. The dam was breaking faster than he’d ever imagined. Not everyone had his instinct for shadows. The sheer volume screamed: This is real. Not CGI. Not hype. REAL.

“Whoa,” muttered a guy near the window. “Seems like the crossing odds aren’t lottery-ticket low after all. You think… anyone here has done it?”

“Maybe we’ll see someone walk in with a robot arm later…” another chimed in, half-joking, half-hopeful.

“Man, I wanna cross…”

As more students trickled in, every new arrival was met with intense, covert scrutiny. Eyes darted, searching sleeves for unnatural bulges, movements for uncanny precision. They were seventeen, eighteen – an age wired for wonder, burning with curiosity and the desperate need to be special. Adults weighed risks; teens saw golden tickets. Reading Harry Potter, you dreamed of Platform 9 ¾. Reading comics, you craved the spider bite. The reality check? Usually harsh. But the promise of becoming extraordinary? That drowned out the danger sirens.

Only Elian knew the brutal truth lurking behind the shiny tech.

He noticed Nathan’s expression shift. The initial deer-in-headlights panic was fading, replaced by… a spark. A dawning excitement.

Casually, as if discussing homework, Elian nudged him. “So… this was the ‘bizarre thing’?”

Nathan jumped slightly, then leaned close, a conspiratorial grin spreading. “Can’t spill yet, bro,” he whispered, eyes gleaming. “But swear… if I snag some… opportunity over there? I won’t forget my wingman.” He gave Elian’s shoulder a light punch.

Elian met his gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his own eyes. He bumped Nathan’s fist with his knuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Never forget your comrades when fortune finds you,” he echoed, the old words carrying a sudden, heavy weight.