The Factionless

The morning had started like any other. Landon Hale had been leaning against his locker, earbuds in, pretending to listen to music while Clara Voss talked about the senior trip that would never happen. Her voice had been a constant in his life—steady, familiar, the kind of sound that felt safe. “…and I’m telling you, Landon, if we don’t go somewhere with an ocean, I’m not going,” she’d said, nudging his shoulder. “You need sunlight, not circuit boards.” He’d smirked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You say that like sunlight fixes people.” “It fixes moods,” she’d countered. “And you definitely need yours fixed.” The hallway lights had flickered then—once, twice—and the low hum of electricity had cut out. The silence that followed hadn’t felt normal. Phones had chimed with the same distorted tone. Nobody could read the alert before the screens went black. Then the air itself had started to vibrate. The floor had trembled beneath them. Lockers had snapped and popped like gunfire. Every light, every speaker, every screen had burst in a blinding flash of white. He still remembered the heat. It hadn’t been sunlight. It had been a burning wave that swallowed everything—bright, searing, alive. He’d grabbed Clara’s hand as the world exploded into light. For one impossible moment, everything had been silent. Then the light had vanished, leaving only smoke, the smell of scorched metal, and the sound of people crying in the dark. When Landon’s vision had cleared, all the adults—everyone over eighteen—were gone. The teachers, the principal, the office staff… they had simply vanished. He’d stared down the empty hallway, Clara’s trembling hand still in his. “Landon,” she’d whispered, “where did everyone go?” He hadn’t had an answer then. He still didn’t. That had been a month ago. Since the solar flare, the seven high schools in the town of Silverstone, Alaska had reorganized themselves into seven factions: Ironfangs, Ashborn, Frostwardens, Silver Veil, Verdant, Emberclan, and finally, The Phantoms, the school that Landon and Clara had come from. The Ironfangs were a militaristic faction, their school the largest and most heavily fortified, ruled by the strategic and ruthless Captain Kael Stroud. The Ashborn were heartless bandits who you did not want to run into alone; they were known to take everything and torture anyone who crossed them, under the brutal leadership of Raze Korvik. The Frostwardens, living far up north, kept mostly to themselves, focusing on surviving the harsh Alaskan wilderness, guided by the stoic and resourceful Eira Northwind. The Silver Veil was an all-girl faction, masters of manipulation and deception, led by the cunning Selene Voss. The Verdant faction aimed to restore the world to how it had been a month ago, inspired by their charismatic leader Thorne Alaric. The Emberclan lived for chaos, attacking for both necessity and thrill, ruled by the impulsive and dangerously bold Kaida Flint. Finally, the Phantoms were the smallest faction, driven out of their school by the Ironfangs and now surviving as nomads, led by the pragmatic Ryn who sought to keep his people alive despite constant threats. Between the factions existed the Factionless, those who belonged to no group; their lives were perilous, often ended by the wilderness or by other factions, with only rare cases of survival or acceptance into a faction.