Benige Loriyan scurried his way through the heavy pedestrian traffic. He glanced at his watch as he ran, "Shit. I'll just barely make it." He grabbed the arm of his backpack, with a little body enhancement magic, pushed himself forward even faster.
When it all seemed to be finally looking great, suddenly, a miasma started to form. It was velvety in colour. This was unusual, and it happened at the worst time for Benige.
A clap and a lightning bolt, the miasma faded and in it's place was a two horned humanoid being...a demon.
"Hahahaha. Hahaha haha. Finally. I have risen." It laughed. People turned heads, realising what was happening.
Benige took several steps back, this was the worst possible moment for a demon to appear, now he was going to be late for class.
The demon looked around. It smirked, "Fear, cower, pathetic mortals!!"
Passer-bys and strangers looked strangely at each other. Their faces showing indifference. All except Benige.
"My name is Mimisuma. A powerful demon in hell, kneel an–"
"May, someone shut this thing up?" Said a lady.
The demon was left bewildered. Where did those words come from? Had a mere mortal dared risk her life?
"Don't worry my lady, I'll happily take care of this pest." A stout looking man said, casually, leisurely said, putting his plastic bag on the ground. "I'd been itching to flex my muscles."
"Pfft. Insolent fool! What can a mere mortal –" Before the demon could finish the sentence, the man planted his foot into the ground and a small crack in the pavement formed. The man threw a punch straight into the demon's stomach.
"What! Impossible! How… how is this… a mere mortal?!" it stammered, one clawed hand on its stomach.
A second man strolled in, sleeves rolled up, smirking. "Pfft. That it? You were trying? Move aside."
The demon roared. "Raaagh! YOU ALL DIE BY MY HAND!" A hand raised, glowing with infernal energy, whatever spell it was conjuring never came, because in the next second...another fist hit it squarely in the jaw.
It staggered. People in the crowd paused, some unsure whether to call the authorities or just enjoy the chaos.
The second man tilted his head. "Honestly, I could do this all day. But really, should we?"
The demon, still reeling, growled and tried to summon more energy. "I… WILL… CRUSH YOU!"
A crack appeared on the sidewalk. Another punch. Another stagger. Somewhere a pigeon flew off in confusion.
Then sirens rang. Not just one. An entire fleet of official-looking, floating vehicles descended from above, hovering like predatory drones with fluorescent lights.
A lady police officer stepped out, hand on hip, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Hey. You know, these little displays of chaos aren't really allowed in public areas. Maybe take your fight elsewhere. Like… I dunno… hell?"
The men shrugged. "We were trying to save the infrastructure," one said. "There was a demon."
The demon blinked. Still on its knees. Still figuring out how humans, these frail little mortals, could have the audacity to not only survive but actively humiliate a supposed apex being.
Barrier magic encased it, glowing like a neon cage. The demon struggled, shrieked, flailed, but nothing.
The van doors slammed shut. It was trapped, sealed, and utterly defeated.
Benige, who had been hiding behind a stranger during the entire ordeal, exhaled. Perfect. Disaster averted.
He stepped out from behind the oblivious crowd and continued his sprint to school, muttering about how demons had terrible timing.
...
..
.
Benige stood outside the school gate, hands on his knees, chest heaving, surely the human body wasn't designed to endure this much effort.
He swayed slightly, eyes scanning the courtyard like it was a particularly hostile jungle. Birds chirped indifferently, a pigeon gave him a judgmental look, and somewhere in the distance, someone probably sneezed.
"Okay," he muttered, adjusting his backpack.
"Just get to class. Survive. Repeat."
Step by step, he dragged himself forward, occasionally muttering to himself about how this was the worst possible start to a day.
Random students passed him, some waving casually, some buried in holo-devices, and some probably trying to figure out if the smoke rising in the distance was part of some extra-curricular demolition club.
Finally, he arrived at the classroom, sweating, panting, and.....scared.
The door loomed before him like a checkpoint in some cruel horror movie. He pushed it open.
Inside, his teacher was mid-explanation, standing beside a massive holo-projection of the new-and-improved Sairalin Mecha 14. Today's lesson seemed to be the leg segment—or, as the teacher put it, "the part that actually keeps this glorified tin can upright without collapsing like a bad soufflé."
The teacher spotted him immediately, head tilting in mock surprise. "How nice of you to join us, Mr. Loriyan. Late, I see, as usual. Thinking about your years as a knight, perhaps?" A wink accompanied the words, followed by a faint chuckle. "Haha. Take a seat."
Benige managed a groggy nod, one eyebrow twitching. *Yeah, thinking about it alright. Mainly about how he actually didn't have any years as a knight."
He navigated the desks, dodging legs, abandoned backpacks, and the occasional flying paper scrap.
One of his friends noticed him and gave a dramatic fist pump, clearly over-excited at his survival and entry.
Benige returned a weak, exhausted fist bump, he finally reached his designated seat, sliding in like a man who had just survived a minor, but terrifying apocalypse.
The teacher resumed the lecture without missing a beat, explaining hydraulic pistons, anti-torque stabilizers, and something that sounded suspiciously like "leg hydraulics for maximum dramatic stomp potential." Benige blinked. Blinked again.
Finally, he let out a breath he had been holding for a while. "Phew."
Everyday, Benige lives his life on a tight rope. Death awaits him at every corner. Not metaphorically either, literally. And it's all for one simple reason.