Behold another chapter.

italics can either mean speaking in french, emphasis, or thoughts

I moved to Paris during the Apocalypse.

The realization came to my mind as I went about locking windows, closing curtains, pulling down shades, everything short of barring the doors and windows with wood boards and iron nails. It nearly made me snort and I wondered if my humor had gone so far off the rails that I would laugh about something like that in a situation like, uh. . . Well- I can still hear people sobbing.

I wasn't too far off from that myself, to be honest.

Mom had come in a few minutes after the bone-chilling statement ("Your father isn't coming home") looking ashen faced. Her eyes had been a puffy red and the shadows under them seemed to have darkened with grief and exhaustion in the thirty or so minutes she had been gone for. She checked in with us, called the school in broken French about what happened, and started putting more things away.

We didn't have Taco Bell that evening- instead we ate more of our snacks that we had brought on the plane ride. Mom had some sort of chocolate covered pretzels, Chase had twizzlers and an assortment of sour candy. My hard caramels tasted like a forbidden delight and salty tears. I was really looking forward to actual food, especially after the long plane trip, no matter how questionable the food was.

"Keana! The news report is starting soon!" Chase called up the house. I shifted within my cocoon known as a sleeping bag. I was reluctant to move, as I always was when I got comfy, but I made the effort to shimmy out of my temporary bed anyway.

"Coming!" I shout down the house. I nearly slip on one of the many ladders on my way down to the bottom floor. I pause briefly in Mom's ro- the parents' room. She was still on the phone with the school, arguing and being put on hold. She had her hand covering her eyes while she sat on the only bed in the house. I wince and continued down.

Chase sent me a look and then pointedly glanced back up the ladder. I raise my eyebrow and he rolled his eyes in response. I made my way to the couch, flopping down next to him. He leaned closer.

"How's Mom?" He asked in a low voice.

"How do you think?" I reply with a joking, incredulous tone. Chase responded with a light shove. "She's still on the phone with the stupide school."

Chase scowled. "If that school doesn't cancel-"

"We're live!"

The news screen faded from view as the same lady reporter from before- I probably should learn her name- faded into view.

"This is Nadia Chamack, reporting live."

Oh, so that's her name then. Great.

"There was a recent report that the supposed 'Ladybug' did not solve all our problems. While she did stop one of the rock villains, that one has multiplied and infected many innocent civilians."

Images pop up from around the city on the screen of golems towering over other occupants in Paris. There's a few underneath the Eiffel Tower, and several per street, it seemed. But they only seemed to be in Paris. Nowhere else. That was good. That means everyone else actually have time to prepare when the Apocalypse comes for them.

"Researchers are currently studying a few of the frozen statues in hopes of understanding it, but have not made much progress yet. Detectives are still stumped as-"

"How are we gonna afford to live here" Chase said suddenly, " or even afford a plane ticket out of here, with Dad gone?"

The question sent a sword into my gut and I felt like I just swallowed a rock- or maybe even a whole rock golem. "I-" I try to swallow the rock, but it was a lost cause. "I don't know? How am I supposed to know?"

He was silent, leaning forward and letting his head fall into his arms instead of a response.

"Mom would have to get a job, a better paying one than a daycare worker. Do daycare workers get paid more in France?" I'm rambling now, but I couldn't for the life of me stop myself. "Maybe Dad's company will give us a ticket back? They paid for Dad's ticket out. No-"

Tears were spilling before I knew it, and my breaths came in with hiccups and out with wails. My lungs were shuttering with each attempt to breath- because I couldn't breathe.

My brother's arms were around me, and I felt ridiculous. Why was I the only one crying? Was I just that weak to handle anything? Why did the thought of the financial problem make me break down, not the news of Dad being turned into a- a monster didn't? Guilt welled up inside me and I choked up as an even louder sob built up. The news could hardly be heard over the noise of me breathing (or at least attempting to breathe).

"-a few hundred have been counted so far, though the number may go up. Mayor Bourgeois has promised to financially help the families affected, until the disaster is sorted-"

I sniffled. If I didn't feel stupid before, I certainly felt so now. My worries were solved with a single sentence- no, just two words: financial help. Was I really that much of a wimp that I'd cry over something that wasn't actually a problem? There are so many more people out there who have it so much worse than I do. And here I was, crying over something that got fixed a few minutes later.

My brother's comforting arm was still wrapped around my shoulders, but it felt less comforting and more constricting. I pulled away, curling up on the couch with my head propped up on the armrest. Great, I think sullenly, now I can't even breathe through my nose. Stupid emotions.

The ladder creaked.

"School's not cancelled," Mom seethed.

The TV screen was completely ignored as Chase whirled around. "Wait, what? There are literal monsters crowding the streets and this- this-" He physically held back a curse, "School isn't cancelling?!"

I shake my head in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she reaffirmed, looking like she wanted to arrange a formal meeting between the principal's teeth and her fist, "They kept transferring me around, left me on hold for a good thirty minutes before they were willing to answer my questions. Then after I started chewing them out about safety policies, all they did was reassure me that you two would still be getting education and I shouldn't worry about it."

"Are they dumb enough to keep school in session even with frickin' rock monsters," I flap my arms in the vague direction of outside, "everywhere?"

Mom sighed. "I won't make you go to school, if you don't feel safe."

That brought up a bout of indecision within me. I really, really didn't want to go to school. I had plenty of reasons not to go- my mom was even encouraging me not to go. But at the same time, I was already behind my school work. And if I didn't go tomorrow, what's stopping me from not going for the rest of the week? If I go to school once the stone crisis is over, then I might never show up again. No one knows when it'll get resolved, or if it ever will.

I'm already going to be the weird transfer student, I don't want to be the weird student who shows up in the middle of the year.

"No," I withhold a sigh, "I'll go. The news lady said the rock monsters weren't moving or anything. Besides, school is a good distraction."

Mom raised an eyebrow. I must have had red eyes, not to mention I sound stuffed up. Combined with my complete bedhead and my curled up position on the couch, I probably didn't look very convincing. I straightened up a bit and twisted to look her in the eyes better. "If anything happens, I can just come home. it's not like we're living a thirty minute drive away, heck, we're not even five minutes away."

Mom looked like she still didn't want me to go, but good ol' Chase pipped in. "I'll go with her, and we can take Dad's- the car."

"I really need to get out of the house," I added.

She sighs, looking at me in the eyes, then at Chase. She takes both our hands and holds them for a moment. "Be safe, mes enfants" Mom whispers. Moment over, she stands fully again, back to business. "Make sure you have all the folders, notebooks, binders, and pencils you need."

"Ok," I nodded, temporarily ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut. Chase had gone back to staring at the TV, though instead of news, commercials were being spat out in rapid fire French I could hardly understand.

Now, the only thing I had to look forward to was the mass amount of dread that came with social interaction.

Great.

. . .

Jet lag sucks.

That was the only thing on my mind as I stood outside the school at the early hour of eight o'clock. Normally, being up that early wouldn't bother me, but the eight o'clock in Paris is around midnight where I lived prior to moving. Not to even mention, I was in Hawaii for a bit, and that's a whole twelve hour difference. School didn't even start for another thirty minutes. Thirty minutes.

Of course, this was all my fault- I did this to myself. Chase's glares sent toward me during the car ride didn't go unnoticed, but he probably would have gone to school whether I did or not because, unlike me, he actually liked school. He probably didn't like it now, with the complete lack of friends and all, but that's not the point.

The point was that I also convinced him to drive us early.

"So we could understand the layout of the school." That was my reasoning before.

Now all I want to do is crawl in a hole and die.

This school was intimidating; it didn't look anything like my middle school. Which made sense, considering this was the French equivalent to high school, which still didn't really mean anything, because it didn't look anything like the high school my brother went to.

Instead of a dull brick building with a lackluster entrance, it was a tall building with plenty of large windows and a staircase that led to the wide double doors with a humongous banner spanning the height of the building just above them. It also had the added effect of the Eiffel tower being directly behind it as if to drive home the fact that, yes, Keana, you are in Paris.

As the feeling of crushing regret was felt in my soul, I could at least thank Mom that she convinced me to wear something actually nice, instead of just a black hoodie and a pair of jeans.

"I'm in the troisième class, right?" I ask Chase, who gives me a look and grunted in affirmative. I sighed, "Right, just making sure."

Shakily, I reached into my pocket to pull out my schedule, just to re-check who my homeroom teacher was. Mademoiselle Bustier. Her name was also noted to be both my French teacher and my Literature teacher. Then I had Mademoiselle Mendelieve, who was both my Chemistry and Math teacher. There must not be a lot of teachers in this school, if only a few teachers teach all the subjects. Or they're just taking pity on me because I didn't even start to speak French until a few months ago.

Chase and I were at the top of the stairs by then, and I wondered if it was too late to turn back. The doors seemed to dwarf me, but they opened without a problem.

The first impression I got from the interior was very. . . Open. There was a courtyard, which I supposed was the gym. The hallways were open to this courtyard- which didn't have a roof. It seemed nice now, but I could only think about how inconvenient it must be for the majority of the school to be open air. As far as I'm aware, Paris isn't tropical, so having a school without a heating system in the hallways seemed inconvenient, to say the least.

Unless there was some sort of retractable roof to keep out rain and snow.

That would be pretty sweet.

"Who's your home teacher, Chase?" I ask, if only for something to fill the silence.

He shrugged. "Someone named Monsieur D'Argencourt."

"Oof," I wince, "I'm pretty sure he's the PE teacher. That's gonna suck."

"Eh," He rolled his eyes, "I've had a lot of PE teachers, most of them are pretty chill."

"That's not what I mean, though," I glare at the courtyard, flourishing my arms at the sky. "It's kinda open air."

"Perfect for Winter," He says with a complete straight face. "Maybe I'll even be able to wear shorts year round."

I wack his shoulder lightly, but got distracted by spotting a sign that said 'locker rooms.' Well, it said 'vestiaires' but I was pretty sure that meant locker rooms. Of course, with how well my French was, it could easily mean bathroom, but who cares? Finding the bathrooms wouldn't be bad either.

Especially since I still felt like crying.

My countenance sours further. Right, there also is some sort of rule about keeping backpacks in lockers. I shoulder my own beat up backpack, recalling how last year that there was a similar rule, where people couldn't take their backpacks to lunch for whatever reason. I always ended up running in the halls and having to shove my backpack in the locker in order to get to lunch when the line was still short. One of those fateful struggles ripped off two of my metal zippers and often ended with my locker being jammed. Of course my locker got jammed anyway, but that was because those lockers weren't big enough to fit a lunch box- much less a middle school backpack with everything inside.

To sum It up, lockers were my nemesis.

Chase hummed. "The room numbers seem pretty standard. I'm pretty sure rooms in the hundreds are at ground level and two hundreds are the second floor. It looks like they start over there," he pointed towards the left corner of the gym closest to the entrance.

"Makes sense," I sigh, still hung up about the lockers rule. "But that's the only thing that's made sense."

"There've been worse rules," Chase chuckled. "When I went to middle school, they were still trying to enforce the up and down staircase rule."

The locker room was pretty nice, at least. Not that I've had many things to compare it to, but the lockers themselves didn't seem too beat up and it was clean. Just being clean made it rise in the ranks from B for 'basic' to B+ for 'bit better than basic.' The lockers were also a good size with a good height to width ratio and the added bonus of having nice depth.

"What are your electives?" Chase asked as we began our trek to the second floor. I kept my backpack on my shoulder, because I still haven't been assigned a locker yet, even though it's a rule.

"Art 1, Literature, and PE," I mutter.

"Really?" He blinked in surprise, "huh. No choir?"

I shrugg. "Wasn't feeling up to it this year. Et le vôtre?"

"Drama, PE, and Band."

"Nerd," I shake my head with a light smile.

He smirked with a glint in his eye. "Take a look in the mirror."

"Oh," I groan, placing a hand over my heart and another over my forehead, "you wound me! I simply cannot go on!"

I go stiff as a board, letting myself stumble into him, but he pushed me away with another chuckle. "Maybe you need to take the drama class instead."

I straighten up, only to realise we were outside of my homeroom. I glanced uncertainly at Chase, but he seemed particularly oblivious to my struggle. Once again, I wonder if it was too late to call Mom and get her to excuse me, but the answer was yes. Chase decided that I must have taken too long to open the door, so he did it for me. How delightful.

"Bye, I guess," I walk inside, door shutting behind me with a heavy bang. I flinch, as the person leaning over what most definitely was the teacher's desk looked up at the sudden noise.

Madam Bustier- I have no clue who else she could be- seemed young, quiet, and kind. She had the looks of a new teacher with little experience; all fresh faced and no harsh features. Her eyes were a green with just a light tint of blue that contrasted with her redish hair that was pulled up into a bun.

She smiled once her eyes fell on me. "Bonjour! You must be Keana Luana."

I nod uncertainly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear and bouncing my left leg. "Hello- I mean- bonjour. Umm, Oui. You must be Mademoiselle Bustier?"

Her smile softened a tad bit, not that it was particularly unkind before. "Yes. I don't have anything for you at the moment, but I'd just like to welcome you to school. It takes a lot of courage to come here without knowing anyone after a traumatic experience."

Maybe she wasn't a new teacher, or maybe she was just really nice. I end up smiling a little back, just from the genuineness of her words. "Merci, Mademoiselle Bustier." I gave her small bow that could also be interpreted as a nod. "Oh, are there- I mean- are there given seats?"

Madam Bustier shook her head, stopped herself, then nodded instead. "Usually I let my students choose their own seats on the first day, but you arrived late. I don't want there to be more quarrels over places, so I'm afraid you'll have to choose a seat that's not taken."

I nod in a daze, getting the gist of the sentence, adjusting my backpack straps as she searches through the drawers on her desk. The search didn't take long, and soon she withdrew a sheet of paper that showed the layout of the room and the seats already taken up. I paled. There were only two seats left.

Madam Bustier smiled apologetically. "I apologise for the lack of options, but my class is very full."

The only two seats were not next to the windows and close to the back. I'm glad they were in the back, but both also came with the drawback of having a table partner. I liked the idea of sitting in the aisle seat in the back, because that meant I'd be higher up and I'd have a good view. Because usually being in the back meant more privacy but had the negative effect of reducing vision. However, this room reminded me of a choir room in the way that the rows were tiered. Each table had two seats that faced the front and there were two tables per row, with an aisle splitting the two. One whole wall was covered with large windows.

All the seats seemed nice, but I really didn't want to sit next to a potential trouble maker. Now the question was would the trouble maker sit in the back of the class, or would they sit one row further up so they could bother other people? But trouble makers flock together, and the whole tiered format made it harder to bother people in front of you.

I hand the paper back to Madam Bustier with a quiet, "merci." I walk up the center aisle and slid into the third row seat. As much as I really didn't want to sit next to everyone, I also didn't want to look like I was purposefully isolating myself. Which I wanted to do, but I also wanted to make at least one friend. Also, sitting in the back next to the person who also self isolated themselves meant I ran the risk of encountering an introvert that was more of an introvert than I was. Truly a terror.

I shrug off my backpack and pull out my phone, fully intending to spend the rest of the twenty, no fifteen, minutes left before school starts playing meaningless games in order to relieve stress.

It wasn't long until people started to trickle in, though the first few people didn't make much noise. I was right in sitting in the third row, as the guy in the back row definitely seemed like a double introvert with his hoodie swamping him. Then a dude with a red hat and headphones slid into the first row. People can wear hats in school here?

Then a blond haired girl with a pixie cut and bright pink clothing was chatting loudly with a girl who wore all black. I blinked in bewilderment, then shrugged. I'm not gonna judge who people hang out with.

"I can't believe what happened yesterday!" The pink girls voice was as bright as her clothing choice. "I didn't think that-" Now that think about it, the pink girl wasn't really talking with the goth girl as she was talking at her. All the goth girl did was nod and murmur soft words of agreement.

The door banged open again, as a jock looking guy and a girl with vibrant pink hair charged in arguing loudly with a guy with suspenders and 100% nerd glasses was trailing behind them interjecting occasionally with a fact.

Madam Bustier had left to do something during the time I was on my phone, and most of the seats had been filled up by now with many people talking to others.

Except for me. And the kid in the back who must have been passed out on the desk because he looked dead.

Then there was an uproar, directly outside the classroom. Someone even shouted "I want your autograph!" My brow crinkled in confusion and I muttered "I am confusion?" under my breath. Then shrugged, because it didn't really matter that much if someone was being weird and begging for an autograph.

"Wow!" A blond haired girl in a vivid yellow cardigan ran in, with a blond guy in pretty expensive looking clothing following her. She gestured at a seat in the front row, right next to the hat wearing guy. "This is your seat Adrikins! I saved it just for you!"

"Thanks, Chloe," he said in a nice enough voice with an additional pat on her shoulder. Then he slid into the desk where the guy who was already there wrinkled his nose.

"Hey, Adrien" The blond guy said with an extended hand

"You're friends with Chloe, then, huh?" He responded distastefully. Avoid Chloe, then, I noted.

The Chloe in question further cemented my first impression by taking her gum out, giving it to her friend, who then stuck it to the other first row bench. I wrinkled my own nose. Ewwww, gross.

The Adrien fellow turned around, and seemed to share my own opinion. He crouched down, poking at it while Chloe gave some sort of dumb explanation why she didn't throw it away.

I didn't particularly care, as long as she ignored me.

Chloe slid into her own seat prissily while her lacky slid next to her. Right in front of me. I no longer felt relieved that I chose the third row instead of the back row.

"Hey! What are you doing!" A girl with bluish black hair pulled back in pigtails stormed in then, followed by her friend in plaid. Adrien stuttered while Chloe and her friend erupted into giggling laughter. A few angry mutters drifted around the classroom. I changed my mind about being relieved over Mom forcing me to wear nice clothes. I'd do anything for a hoodie right now.

"Okay, I get it." She glared. "Good job, you three, very funny."

Adrien stuttered some more. "No-no! I was just trying to take this off!"

She didn't seem impressed with whatever he said, bending down to take it off herself with a napkin. "You're friends with Chloe, right?" She said it in the same tone that Headphones did.

Adrien muttered something in confusion, and I had this feeling he was a little oblivious. I was only here for a few minutes, and even I could tell Chloe was toxic.

Pigtails sat down then, completely ignoring him. Plaid followed soon after. Adrien dejectedly slumped into his own seat.

Chloe said something along the lines of 'I told you so.' Man, that girls voice was really getting on my nerves. Good thing I'm a master of ignoring my problems.

Madam Bustier arrived with a short girl with pretty multicolored hair running in just as the bell rang.

Madam Bustier cleared her throat, starting attendance. "Agreste, Adrien?"

A few moments later, he shot into the air shouting, "Present"

Everyone erupted into laughter, except me- I winced- and Pigtails, who still looked murderous.

"Bourgeois, Chloe?"

"Present," She said in a snotty tone. Isn't Bourgeois the mayor? Eh, whatever.

"Bruel, Ivan-"

That was the guy who's supposed to sit next to me. He's not here- "PRESENT!"

I screamed, along with several others as the rock golem from yesterday burst through the door, even breaking the wall a bit like the Kool Aid Man.

"Mylèneee!" The golem shrieked, stomping towards the girl who was nearly late. People were running. I belatedly realised I probably should, too.

I was out the door in seconds, chasing behind the Jock-whose-name-I-still-haven't-learned. There was a crashing noise and a shriek. I turned back for a split second only to see that the colorful girl had been picked up in the stone giants fist-

I ran, only hearing another crunch of a table and another shriek, this one very distinctly Chloe.

Then a crash of cement and scraping rocks.

I sprinted, not taking another moment of time to look back. I didn't want to know what happened. I tore through the halls, skipping steps on the way down the stairs. My lungs heaved in a painful reminder that I never exercise unless I'm forced to. I didn't have time to regret it.

I was at the front doors in what couldn't have been more than a minute. I didn't stop to open it gently. Instead, I shoulder checked it, not regarding the sharp jolt it sent up said shoulder. The door burst open and I skid out it, flailing my limbs briefly as my momentum almost sent me tumbling down the steps.

The sun stung my eyes, but I kept them wide as they darted around to find what the best route to my house actually was-

I felt my heart sink in my chest as I realized the rock golems that weren't moving earlier this morning- thirty five minutes ago- were moving now. They were everywhere. And they weren't happy.

Then one rounded the corner in front of the school. One with two screaming girls clutched tightly in his grip.

I messed up.

Fight or flight kicked in, and I pressed against the side of one of the pillars that decorated the entrance. The rock giant shakes the ground with every footstep and I become flat stanley in my attempts to stay hidden. Thud. Thud. Thud.

All while Chloe was complaining at the top of her lungs.

"My daddy," I almost snort at the phrase, "will bring in the army and the entire calvary-"

The rock golem, or Stoneheart, or Ivan- whoever he was- was nearly past the school until-

"And the superheroes!"

The cat-boy superhero- Chat Noir- came flying over from nowhere and backflipped over the rocky head of Stoneheart. I cringed as Chat Noir's baton bonked the top of the crag as he vaulted over. Didn't he learn anything from the last battle? Also, that leather is way too tight-

The greenish-yellow glow encompassed the villain(?) as he grew even larger. He seemed nearly twice as big as he was just a moment ago!

"My bad." Chat Noir also winced while Chloe mumbled something in reply that I'm sure wasn't flattery.

"Heh," Stoneheart grunted, his voice sounding like a combination of a sore throat and grinding rocks. "You wanted the cavalry? Here it is!"

With thundering footsteps, three more normal sized rock giants came running towards the school entrance from the streets and even more went to surround Chat Noir from the bridge. Shivers went down my spine as dread pooled in my gut. Six more rock monsters, when the only two people that could do anything about them, it seemed, struggled with one.

I was doomed. Maybe I should have written my will last night when I had the chance. I'll give Alaula my DS games and- and- that's the only thing I own-

"Seize him!" The rocky voice bellowed, grating on my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

All the golems sprung into action at once, lunging at the cat themed hero and grabbing at him. However, Chat proved to be more slippery and darted between arms. He slid under ones legs, weaving around reaching hands. All while the Stoneheart in charge walked away without a care.

I couldn't relaxe, though. There were still six other golems (I tried not to wonder if one was my dad-). And now-

Chat was gone. He ran down a street while I was internally monologuing. Only three of the golems chased him. The other three were standing directly in front of the school. I gulped, starting to crouch so they wouldn't look over and see-

One of the golems blazing yellow eyes landed on me and I froze. Maybe they saw someone behind me-

Then the golem started to thwomp its way in my direction. The other two followed.

I didn't wait long enough for them to corner me. I vaulted over the side of the staircase, landing in a crouch and feeling a twang of pain jolt my ankle. A fist slammed into the pillar I was hiding behind, but I was already sprinting. One of them roared and the chase began.

Not that it hadn't already begun, but-

"Ack!"

A chunk of concrete shattered just to my left. The shrapnel just missed me. These guys are out for blood!

I swerved as another landed in front of me. My sides heaved and I pushed myself to go faster. I needed to lose these guys-!

Crash!

My head turned at the sudden noise, only to see a fist dug an inch into the ground just a few feet away. My heart stopped. My legs stalled for a moment as fear nearly made me a statue. Survival instincts kicked in and I ran even faster. I could feel my blood rushing through my veins with each step. My lungs heaved in their attempts to keep me moving. I felt bile rise in my throat at the exertion, but I had to swallow it. Normally, I'd make some sort of joke about my weakness or 'why do athletes like this?'

This wasn't normal circumstances.

My only thought was to get away. Stay just out of their reach. Don't slow down. Dodge the concrete falling from the sky-

I sprinted quicker than I ever had before. But no matter how fast I went, the monsters were right behind me-

Concrete shattered right in front of me. My eyes widened. I couldn't change directions in time. I tried to leap over it, but shrapnel still dug into my shins. The ground was coming up to meet me, but my legs weren't there to-

My hands met the pavement. The world blurred around me as I tumbled. Limbs flailing, legs burning in pain, sides heaving-

Crack!

A fist crashed into the ground where I just fell. But I was still sliding away as the road tore away at my skin. My eyes were wide and I scrambled to get up- but my legs aren't cooperating and-

The cracks that spiderwebbed from the impact were growing.

The rock giant- when did I lose the other two- withdrew his fist from the fractured concrete. It stood straight, taking a step forward, unknowingly growing the cracks. But not under it. Of course not, that's be too easy.

The cracks were under me. And they were getting wider.

My mind flashed back to an old lecture I heard about what to do if you were literally on thin ice. I was only seven, and thoroughly confused as to why I needed to know that when I was taking a swimming lesson but- the point was that when cracks appeared you needed to get off your feet and go spread eagle. It would spread your weight, instead of all of the weight being transferred into two points: your feet.

The monster before me took one more step. A chunk of concrete crumbled and fell into a dark abyss that was hiding under the street. The golem paused in confusion, but it was too late. The surface tension failed without the single chunk. The rest was crumbling out from under me.

I fell, limbs flailing, arms reaching for anything to hold me afloat. one hand found a ledge, but that was unstable. Nothing could stop my descent.

My shoulder hit a wall and then I was spinning, falling further and further from the light and then the light was gone as more debris fell in after me. My vision was dark, I couldn't even scream. I was tumbling through a vertical tunnel, pinballing off the walls and sliding off ledges and-

Something hit my head and I slipped into oblivion.

To answer a few questions, some folks were confused about the nature of this crossover. It's a fusion between the HK world and the MLB world, with MLB as the base. I don't really want to say much else, since that could lead to potential spoilers. But when I eventually post the next chapter, must of the questions will be answered by the story, so just sit tight.

Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoyed.