WARRIORS HIGH
ISLAND OF THE LOST
PROLOGUE
THEY CAME FROM THE SKY
Usually, Civics was really boring mumbo jumbo about laws and the American justice system.
But this was the day before winter break. No teacher in the building could afford to lead a boring class and leave with their heads on their necks.
Dustleap sat slouched in his desk, legs up and crossed as he watched a live broadcast of Judge Judy, which his teacher, Deerripple, had used a VPN to sneak in live coverage of NBC from the US. A nice discovery, especially for a class that paid more attention to verbal throwdowns more that classwork.
By God, they really were freshmen.
Dustleap wasn't really focused on the stream, though. Hell, he wasn't really focused on anything. Even when Civics began four months earlier, he had been trying to tune out the obvious political segregation between his classmates (The day about the French Revolution was so chaotic that the teacher was almost fired for the fights it caused). Radicals on the left, conservatives on the right, and everyone else in the back. No one sat in the front. That was almost like a universal unwritten rule.
The boy just slouched back in his seat, his hand slipping into his pocket and grabbing his phone as he glanced at the teacher, confirming that she was deep into a conversation with someone who was probably her boyfriend, considering how she had a bit of a dopey smile as she listened to the voice on the other end.
Using his legs for cover, Dustleap opened Piano Tiles on his phone and tried to pathetically beat his high score, which was north of 10,000, with his right thumb. He did make some admirable progress, breaking 1,500 with a free revive before slipping up a tap. He glanced up at his deskmate, who was usually sneaking glances at his phone and giving his approval when he played this game, but his worried gaze was on Deerripple instead.
The teacher's face had suddenly changed, now inheriting more and more fear as she listened to the other end more and more. "What's going on?" and "Is everything alright?" she said over and over.
The class exploded into mocking laughter when the defendant horrendously skewered the word "losers," sealing her fate to lose a couple thousand dollars, when Deerripple's face went white as she dropped her phone. Suddenly everyone turned away from Judge Judy telling the mother that her "daughter is a problem" and stared at their teacher, who looked close to fainting.
She reached for the remote to shut off the projector when the fire alarm went off.
The class cheered at the sudden pandemonium, everyone completely believing it was a prank. There hadn't been a fire at the school ever since the place opened, so it was either a drill, in which they would have been notified about, or a big, loud, obnoxious send-off into the holidays.
The class flooded into the already crowded halls, the teachers from various rooms trying desperately to restore order. Dustleap hustled and pushed his way to the entrance, in case there actually was a fire. The one thing Dusty hated the most was fire.
He threw open the double doors, being followed closely by the first signs of an outpour of the amoebic mass of students, spilling out onto the lawn. Feeling his anxiety simmer down, he began looking around for some of his classmates.
"This has got to be a prank, right?" said Dustleap, running up to his friend, Sandysnout, who nodded. "Gotta be. Jersey Shore was out of class for twenty minutes when the alarm went off. Definitely seemed like something he would do, especially today."
"Boy, I'm boutta give him the biggest up-high that he's ever gotten this year."
"But be sure the get on him for being cliche. Still doesn't beat Flight 2000."
"Not even close."
Blackwhisker, affectionately known as Jersey Shore, was a six-foot-two genius and one of the most popular kids in the freshman class. While he was originally known for leading the school's once-meager basketball team to the island championship, he soon induced infamy upon his name by pulling the biggest prank the island had ever seen. The "Flight 2000" prank was when he altered all of the tickets, originally set for the coast of New Jersey, on a week-long field trip and sent himself and ninety students, including Dustleap, to a kick-ass week in Los Angeles. No one knows how he did it, but since he was one of the kids who got the upgrade, he wasn't asking.
That's how Jersey Shore was making his name, pulling pranks and making sure everyone in the grade was having a good time.
"Hey, Jersey!" called Dustleap to the tall mastermind, who was holding hands with his girlfriend, "We're getting worried! You losing your creative spirit?"
"What you talking about?" he said, shaking his hand, "I thought that was one of you wannabes! You ain't tryna steal my thunder, are ya?"
"Nah, man. Never. So who is this mysterious heir to the throne?"
"Beats me. Now everyone's concerned about the fire downtown."
Dustleap's eyes widened in alarm. "What fire?"
"Bro, chill. It's ten miles away. The school ain't gonna burn down."
The boy turned to the skyline, where he saw a thick pillar of charcoal-colored smoke permeating sleek gray palette of the city. He could hear worried murmurs from the students around him. Most of the island's population worked in the city, and downtown was the most populated area.
"Jesus," said Dustleap, suppressing a shiver as students pulled out their phones to call their parents.
"LOOK!" said a student pointing to the west side, "THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"
Dustleap saw a second thick pillar of smoke rising from one of the high-rises. The distant wails of emergency vehicles slowly began to fill the silence in the background.
Paranoia crept in the boy's bones. Now he was concerned that this wasn't a drill after all.
"Hey!" he said, running up to Sandysnout milling in the middle of the throng, "Do you have any idea who did pull the alarm?"
"No," he said, his concern about the city growing all the more prevalent.
"OW FUCK!" shouted a student behind him, gripping the back of his head, "WHO THREW THAT?"
Dustleap chuckled in sympathy, then looked to the ground to see a sleek, green sphere with a latch embedded on the top.
The world seemed to freeze.
"GRENADE!" he screamed, grabbing Sandysnout by the arm and yanking him away.
As screams of confusion and terror filled the air, there was a concussive explosion behind him, thrusting him into the air and causing him to land head-first onto the pavement.
Intense agony filled his nerves and his ears rang with cacophony.
Faintly he could hear screams, pleas for mercy, abruptly silenced by gunfire.
Dustleap dared to open his eyes when he felt Sandysnout, in tears and wailing, trying to help him up.
But his efforts were cut short when a bullet suddenly pierced his skull and he slumped to the ground, dropping the boy unceremoniously back into the puddle of his own blood.
His vision blurred, but he could make out a figure in all black holding an automatic assault rifle walking calmly towards him.
He stopped in front of him, let out a cold chuckle and stomped hard on the boy's head.
Mercifully, one stomp ripped his grip away from consciousness and he blacked out for what everyone in the world would expect to be the final time.
On December 22, 2023, the U.S. territory of Lindisfarne was attacked by a terrorist group identified as the Assassins of the Rising Sun, or ARS.
There were seven recorded bombings, four on the main city, Excelsio's, downtown and Main Street areas, two on the residential districts of CoastClan and MudClan and one on Lindisfarne High, followed by a black-masked battalion of great numbers freely opening fire on unarmed civilians, predicted to be on orders to kill on sight.
In a 2022 census, the population of Lindisfarne was totaled to be 16,722.
On December 22, the amount of deaths was recorded at around 1,770, 210 of the victims being attendees of Lindisfarne High.
On December 30, the final death toll was 2,306, making the attack on Lindisfarne the second deadliest terrorist attack in American history.
The world acted appropriately. Several neighboring countries were placed on high alert and the President swore revenge, promising to send military aid to assist the hunt for the black-masked soldiers.
But no one expected them to attack again. At least, not this soon.
On January 1, 2023, a memorial was hastily constructed on a sister island, and a mass funeral was hosted. 4,000 people were in attendance, 3,000 of them registered residents of Lindisfarne,
On the same day, in the middle of the ceremony, ARS bombed the sister island.
There were no survivors.
It was then that the President realized that this was a situation that he could not control alone. He had not the resources nor the money to put into fighting this kind of terrorist group with tensions between the United States and the Middle East escalated to a breaking point.
So America did what America does best.
They ran.
On January 9, In a 52% vote by a bare majority-Republican House and a near-unanimous vote by a majority-red Senate, the President passed a statement surrendering control of Lindisfarne, granting the island it's independence.
It was this move of infamy and cowardice that led to the president not being elected to a second term in ten months.
But the damage was done. Lindisfarne was now an island protected by no one but their own feeble defenses.
Lindisfarne. The island which was abandoned in it's most desperate time of peril.
Lindisfarne. The Island of the Lost.
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know.
bUt ReS wArrIoRS HigH hAS bEEN dOne fOR 10 YEars!1!1!111!
I know.
But as you can see, this is very different. Much darker than your conventional Warriors High since I started with a school shooting and mass genocide.
In other words, a day in the life of my writing.
But here's how this is going to go differently.
1. This story will center around the OC's of the Holy Island, primarily my own and Jayfeather's Friend.
2. Speaking of Jay, portions of this story will take place in his universe, meaning that the canon Warriors characters will play a significant part in this story. The storyline is my own, but specific areas and certain characters' personas came from his own wild imagination. Feel free to read his own Warriors High. It's a good read. (not sponsored i swear)
3. I plan for this story to get dark. Not enough to lose the T rating, but enough for me to put trigger warnings in front of some of the chapters. Keep an eye out for those.
4. If you haven't guessed, this story will be very loosely based on the actual high school itself. No one comes for the high school drama, anyway.
So here we go. My biggest project yet I have enough investment in to continue.
Jay, this one's for you.
Enjoy.
Best,
~Res