The bell shrieked its final, mocking chorus, echoing through the deserted hallways of Northwood High. For most, it signaled freedom, the sweet release of a Friday afternoon. For Kenji Stormrider, it was merely the prelude to his weekly penance: after-school cleanup duty. He dragged a scuffed mop bucket, the squeak of its wheels a lonely counterpoint to the distant rumble of thunder.
"Just once," Kenji muttered to himself, adjusting his glasses, still precariously held together by scotch tape. "Just one day I'd like to leave school before the grim reaper shows up. Or at least before the sky decides to turn into a giant, angry bruise."
He hated cleanup duty. He hated it more than pop quizzes, more than gym class, and almost as much as the bland cafeteria ramen that somehow managed to be both watery and crunchy. He was supposed to be home, sprawled on his futon, diving into the latest chapter of Lightning Blade Chronicles. Instead, he was scrubbing a sticky, unidentifiable stain from locker 3B.
By the time he was done, the last sliver of daylight had vanished, swallowed by a sky the color of bruised plums. Rain lashed against the windows, a relentless drumming that promised a miserable walk home. Kenji patted his pockets—no umbrella, naturally. His only companion was the faint, lingering smell of antiseptic and wet dog.
"Great," he sighed, pushing open the heavy school doors. "Just peachy. Maybe I'll get hit by a truck and reincarnated as a hero in another world. That'd be a solid plot twist."
He pulled his worn hoodie tighter around his head and launched himself into the downpour. The wind immediately tried to tear his cheap jacket from his shoulders, and the rain instantly plastered his dark hair to his forehead. He squinted, trying to navigate the slick, deserted sidewalks. His neighborhood was a good twenty-minute sprint, even for him, and every step felt like slogging through quicksand.
Then, the sky cracked.
It wasn't just thunder. It was a sound that vibrated in Kenji's teeth, a primal roar that momentarily deafened him. He looked up, his heart seizing in his chest. The clouds weren't just dark; they were a swirling vortex of crimson. Red lightning forked across the heavens, illuminating the urban landscape in a hellish glow. It looked like the cover of a forbidden scroll, an omen of ancient, terrible power.
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through Kenji's usual cynical humor. This wasn't normal. This wasn't natural. This was... manga-level catastrophic.
He tried to run faster, his breath catching in his throat, but the air around him grew heavy, charged with an almost painful static. His skin tingled, every hair on his body standing on end. He felt like he was being pulled, inexorably, towards something.
And then, it struck.
A single, colossal bolt of pure, incandescent red lightning tore through the sky, not just a flash, but a column of malevolent light. It didn't aim for the tallest building, or the metal lamppost. It aimed directly for Kenji Stormrider, a lonely, rain-soaked kid in a cheap hoodie, running home from cleanup duty.
The impact was less of a strike and more of an implosion. Time seemed to stretch and warp. A searing, impossible heat coursed through every fiber of his being, followed by a shockwave that lifted him clean off his feet. Every nerve in his body screamed, overloaded with raw, unbound energy. He didn't just feel electricity; he became it, a vessel for a power that crackled with primordial fury.
The world went white, then blinding red, then utterly, mercifully black.