As the sun rose that day, the hospital was light with panic. Azame had gone missing in the early hours of the morning, only to never have been found again. Azame's cousins came later that morning, ready to take home their baby cousin only to return empty-handed. Azame Jackson had disappeared.

It was for the better, though, because only a few hours later Azame's father had been found brutally murdered within his own truck. His blood had been streaked across the windshield, and handprints pressed against glass as he'd tried to escape. His remains had been shredded into almost unrecognizable shapes. The authorities chalked it up to a lone psychopath, and the case was buried within years. The missing posters disappeared from billboards, and news channels moved on to fresher stories. In most minds, Azame Jackson had been buried alongside his family that evening. The killer? Never to be seen again. Or so they thought.

The monsters, if one could only look, existed everywhere. In the darkest of nights, he could see them crawling out across the fields, hiding in the darkened alleyways of big cities. Abandoned barns, old decrypted houses that leaned too far to one side. They existed just outside humanities reach, but ever present if one just looked.

They could only hide now as Azame grew up. Hide and pray they never found them, lest the events of that night would happen once more. They kept moving with that in thought, never staying too long in one place. Azame had started out in Southern California, before settling in North Carolina amidst the sloping hills and tumbling rivers of the Appalachian Mountains.

There, the years passed slowly but uneventfully. The monsters that hid in the darkness were soon to be forgotten, only that Azame never truly forgot. They didn't exist in humanity's realm, but far outside it where the night was dangerous and the sun was their only salvation. They existed in the world where storybook creatures walked out of those pages, and came to life as individuals awaiting their doom.

Azame was lucky, though. He wasn't alone, and as he grew up in such turbulent times he learnt quickly. That what had come through his doors that night could only be feared, but never truly stopped. What awaited Azame was a dark and grim future, that he could outrun for a while… but never truly escape.

This was the start of his story, about how he destroyed the world.

* * *

"Come on, come on!" Ajax hissed as he came running up behind Azame and slapped him on the shoulder. "We're going to be late!"

This morning, Ajax had tied his long black hair up tight with a bright blue hair tie. A few strands had still fallen out and dangled beside his face. His coppery colored skin seemed radiant, yet his eyes held the ever-present dark circles from his multitudes of sleepless nights.

He was a spitting image of his Latino father, an immigrant who'd moved to America to pave the path for his family down in Argentina. His father had been a genius. Math and science held no bounds for the man. However, the worst came for his father and they deported him back home before Ajax was born.

He flashed Azame a gummy smile before saluting lazily towards him. Azame smiled back, glancing over at his crumpled uniform. He'd straightened it a hundred times, but eventually, it went back to its normal state. His black slacks were wrinkled beyond repair, and the jacket over his white shirt had a few cheese cracker stains. His striped black and red tie was still hanging loosely around his neck. He seemed to be a normal, everyday boy at Broad River Academy of Excellence. BRAE. It was a private school ranging from sixth grade up to twelfth and the pair had been there since they could remember. It was nestled deep into the trees of the Appalachian Mountains, hidden from society. The closest place to the school was the all-girl's school that lay less than a mile due north.

Ajax fit in like he was supposed to. Like they trained him to. The only thing that deviated from the typical dress and the typical attitude was his heightened senses and the small pouch that lay beneath the school jacket, nestled close to his back. It was his most powerful weapon, a dagger fused with his very soul. Or at least, that's what Ajax's people believed. It was a weapon no human could touch, and if it were to touch Azame's skin, it would burn down to the bone. Its power was so strong that normal humans couldn't see it. Magic bound its hilt and compelled eyes to look away. The same magic that no longer existed in their world, save for the rare exceptions. Ajax's species. They were the only ones still able to tap into that endless energy and bend it to their will. It gave them super strength, stamina that exceeded far past any known species, and it gave them unique abilities. It was the pure untapped power left over from when the universe first formed. The same power that kept supernatural species alive, descending through time.

Near the base of Ajax's neck was a tattoo unlike anything Azame had ever seen before. The crest symbol was ancient, yet achingly familiar. Every Protector had one, signifying which family they belonged to. Ajax's brand was that of a sun. He'd been there when Ajax had received it at his coming of age. Ajax was a Protector, a being that had descended from the great gods of old.

"Azame?" Ajax asked, peering into his eyes. "You still with me?"

"Hm," Azame said before hefting his bag over his shoulder and continued on the path leading to the school building.

The building lay uphill, nestled between a thick grove of pine trees that hid it from sight of the road. The campus, though, was beautiful and well kept. There were no extra leaves fluttering in the wind and flowers adorned the rock beds for the short time they stayed there. Boys were destructive.

The building was massive, with three full levels that ascended up into the sky. For as long as Azame knew, its white walls were always clean, without a trace of dirt or smudge. Even the dust that would settle in the mid-afternoons, with the sun streaming in through the windows with a gentleness few knew, would soon be wiped away with steady hands. The groundskeepers were persistent in their care. They always wiped the sidewalks clean at the start of each morning, and the hallways would always glisten in the early morning sun. Even the cracks that appeared between the concrete slabs seemed to get fixed overnight, providing them with nothing but smooth walkways.

Azame had been one of the lucky ones who'd gotten to remain within the United States. It was safest that they had been separated from each other, so the monsters couldn't find them. They were called Sirens. After the old stories of monsters that lured sailors to their doom. That wasn't what Azame was, though.

Or as far as he knew, that's what they told him he was. When he'd still been growing up at the Manor, a place just off the shore in southern California, they'd preached to him about his importance. Supposedly, Sirens kept the light. However, whenever Azame would look up towards the blue skies, past those bleached white clouds… he felt no connection. They said Ajax Gabris' family was that of the sun. They also said that Azame had to live if they were going to keep that light that most had taken for granted. The Balance. A balance Azame felt nothing towards.

They spread the Sirens far across the globe so they could disappear. They had no choice. At night, when the moon was at its weakest, the Shadows would grow and multiply until they became a horde of bloodthirsty monsters chasing after them desperately for power that only Sirens could give them. Trapped, the Shadows would tear the hearts out of chests and devour them desperately, only to advance one more step up their pathetic ladder.

Azame had gotten used to not taking anything for granted, because no one could ever promise that they were safe. BRAE had been his longest running school, however, he couldn't ever get too comfortable. It was an excellent school, if not just a little expensive. Grandmother, the lone woman who overlooked every Siren in the world and held no relation to anyone, paid for most of their expenses. He'd been in some pretty crappy schools though, and had to accept that BRAE was a diamond in the rough.

Having grown up at Broad River Academy of Excellence, he'd grown to love the staff and campus. It'd grown on him. Being a senior, he'd graduate in May and move on from this life to a new life. College life at a university Grandmother had already picked. Growing up, The Grandmother wasn't just a figurehead, but someone with distinguished power. She knew everything. Or at least she acted like she did. Grandmother's knowledge was great, but that also meant that she chose everything regarding the lives they'd lived and the professions they'd take on. As soon as Azame graduated, he'd go to college and study whatever she had chosen, and then he'd hide once more. Very few professions promised to bury the newcomers. He welcomed the change. He hoped for it because here… well.

Most of the kids here hated him. They were poor, growing up in an elite school hidden deep within the Appalachian Mountains. Often enough, they went without while the other boys had plenty. He could handle that, to a point. His family had always been hard on finances as he grew up. Some Christmases remained bare, while others held a few presents under a tree. He could cope, but the other boys… they immediately tagged Azame and Ajax as their targets.

Bullying was the least flattering thing a human being could engage in. In fact, it got annoying whenever he was trying to focus on the stuff that seemed more pressing and more important than whatever the boys had dredged up to laugh about. And they picked a lot.

Azame had never quite given up his act of pinpointing violent things. Dark things. They regarded him as the school crazy, someone even the teachers would steer clear of. Something as different as him would make anyone uncomfortable. His 'episodes' were completely unpredictable and uncontrollable. The closer it was, the longer the episode. He'd gotten up in class, red faced and pointed out a window and screamed. His episodes were embarrassing and the other kids truly hated him for it.

The bullying wasn't bad, though. He wasn't afraid of it. It may have hurt at some point in his life, but Azame had become a master at stashing feelings away that didn't pertain to his immediate survival. For the other kids, school was just one phase in their life that they could screw up. But for Azame, it was a battle of survival and who was quicker. He knew how to keep his head down, take the brunt of what was coming, because he was powerless to do little else. And if the mighty Ajax could do it, then so could Azame.

He was lonely. He wasn't ashamed to admit that. Ajax was great, but even Ajax didn't understand the full extent of what Azame saw. Just the same as Azame not understanding the brunt of what Ajax dealt with whenever they got too close to the school. As the years went on, Ajax had to face fewer and fewer Shadows chancing upon them. Azame even thought that they had found one of the few places they were untouchable by the darkness.

He rarely enjoyed the feeling of that loneliness as it settled deep into his bones and made his back ache in ways that Azame couldn't explain. It wasn't something anyone could understand, either, nor could he ever lean on someone else for support.

He envied them, though. The boys who would run through the halls, hollering as loud as they could. They were lucky to live such tranquil lives, where very little rested on their shoulders. Azame and Ajax? Their fates were so entwined in the world that an escape would never be possible.

Ajax took a deep sigh beside Azame and the boy turned to look at him, almost comically. "Dumbasses."

Azame nodded as he hefted his bag up over his shoulder. That they were. "They take too much for granted."

Not that Azame could hate them for it, though. He tried to not think about the state of the world as he grew up, and the probability that eventually… the Sirens would fail and the world would fall. But for someone who had grown up in the Manor, he'd always been a little more hopeful of a better world. The boys here, though, their greatest stress was whether or not they bombed their most recent test. Not the doom that sauntered ever closer to them.

Azame scratched at his throat as he felt something odd tickling deep inside. He hated the feeling of a scream coming on. Such unnatural, ugly things that they were, exhausting him beyond measure. He was the first and the last Siren to hold such an important ability, and yet, Azame hated every second.

The boy felt someone pat his shoulder awkwardly, and Azame took a deep breath. He was ready for this school year. He was ready to graduate and go off to college and find a decent job that he could enjoy. Azame was ready to be immersed into society once more as Azame Winters and not Azame Jackson, his birth name. He was ready to get lost in the boredom of school and assignments, leaving the bigger things for everyone else to worry about. Azame was safe here. He'd been safe at BRAE for what was close to six long years.

"Are you ready?" Ajax asked as he turned to look at Azame.

Perhaps everything that Azame faced was nauseating. Perhaps he could only feel the hopelessness and despair that settled in him every time he thought about the future that seemed ever more present in their lives. However, as if Ajax read his mind, he realized he wasn't alone. Sometimes, Azame could find himself cursing the bond that they shared. Sometimes, though, when the pain hurt too much for him to ever put into words, Ajax just knew… and that made everything better.

Azame threw his arm over Ajax's shoulder and stepped forward. He couldn't forget that he had chemistry first period in the morning with Mr. Scott, who was an absolute bore and had always had a personal vendetta against Azame. Even Mr. Scott, who was perhaps much worse than a Shadow ever could be, couldn't dampen his spirits of the school year yet to come.

"Let's do this, Ajax," Azame said with a firm nod. "I plan to graduate this year with straight A's, first step is to show up on time."

Ajax's face contorted with pain. "That always ends well."

Azame knit his brows together as he said, "You have such little faith in me. This year, Ajax. I won't miss a single assignment. I won't bomb a single test. My teachers are in for quite the treat."

"We'll see how well that goes," Ajax said with a nod before he stepped forward. "Race you to class?"

"I'm almost 18 Ajax, I'm not a child," Azame huffed proudly as he smoothed his own jacket out like the pinnacle of a gentleman. "I don't run…. Unless I get a head start!"

Then he lunged forward, pushing past Ajax as he bounded down the halls to the stairs leading to the top floor. He could hear Ajax shouting behind him, before he effortlessly collided with a bunch of teachers making their way towards their own classes.

Azame couldn't help but smile, like it had lifted all that weight from his chest. Sure, things were hard and uncertain, and he should really be a hermit living under a rock. But Ajax was there and that meant that no harm could ever come to Azame, and he could live his life in peace.