The sound never came.

  No crack of shattering glass. No shout from a teacher. No sharp end to a perfect afternoon.

  Instead, the ball hovered.

  For one impossible second, it hung in the air, rotating gently, inches from the classroom window, close enough for the reflection of the sky to curve across its surface as if it belonged there.

  Then it fell.

  Softly, as if someone had placed it on the ground by hand.

  Silence spread across the field.

  Ozair lowered his arms first. “Tell me you saw that.”

  Aryan didn’t answer. He was still staring at the window, his expression unreadable, calculating.

  Elina stepped down from the bleachers, her book forgotten on the seat behind her. “It didn’t hit anything.”

  Ozair jogged forward and picked up the ball, turning it over in his hands like it might reveal a trick seam or hidden weight. “A ball doesn’t just stop.”

  “There’s no net,” Aryan said quietly. He glanced at the frame, then the air in front of it. “No branch. No wire.”

  Even the breeze had died. The field felt strangely still, like it was waiting.

  Then Aryan looked at Mayo. Not accusing but observing.

  Mayo hadn’t moved. His hands were still in his pockets. His breathing was steady, maybe too steady.

  “You’re not surprised,” Aryan said.

  Mayo blinked. “What?”

  “You’re not reacting like the rest of us.”

  Ozair frowned and looked between them. “Yeah. You’re way too calm.”

  Mayo felt his heartbeat quicken, though he forced his face to stay neutral. Beside him, unseen, Toviro remained quiet.

  “I just didn’t process it yet,” Mayo said, swallowing.

  Still, his friends kept staring—like they were waiting for something to crack.

  Mayo looked at each of them, one by one. He studied their eyes, their calm faces.

  I know that look. I've seen it before. They're waiting for something fancy or maybe… a dramatic breakdown.

  And before he knew it, Mayo couldn't hold back anymore.

  "Alright, alright," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's something I gotta tell you guys."

  Ozair rolled the ball under his foot. “That sounds dramatic.”

  “It is.”

  That wiped the grin off Ozair’s face.

  Aryan stepped closer, not aggressive, just attentive. “Go on.”

  Mayo glanced at the school building, at the window the ball should have shattered. The glass reflected the sky like nothing impossible had happened.

  “There’s something in my room,” he said quietly.

  Ozair blinked. "Something? Like a dog?"

  "No." Mayo struggled for the right word.

  “It came last night.”

  Aryan’s brow furrowed slightly. “Came from where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ozair let out a short breath through his nose. “You’re not making this better.”

  Mayo swallowed. His heartbeat felt louder than the field.

  “It’s not an animal.”

  Elina, who had been standing slightly apart, shifted closer without realizing it. “Then what is it?” she asked.

  The wind moved faintly through the trees.

  Mayo forced himself to say it.

  “It looks like… a robot.”

  For a moment, no one reacted.

  Then Ozair laughed, sharp and automatic, like he was rejecting the idea before it could settle. “Okay,” he said, glancing around. “Very funny.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  The laughter faded.

  Elina studied Mayo’s face carefully, searching for the crack that would give it away, but there wasn’t one.

  “You’re serious,” she said.

  Mayo nodded.

  Aryan’s eyes widened slightly. Not dramatic. Just enough to show the word had registered.

  “A robot,” he repeated, testing it.

  “Yeah.”

  “In your room.”

  “Yes.”

  Ozair pointed toward the window, toward the invisible line where the ball had frozen. “And that was him?”

  Mayo nodded once.

  Ozair stared at him. Then at the empty air beside him. Then back again.

  “Bro…”

  “That’s all you’ve got?” Mayo asked, tension creeping into his voice.

  Ozair dragged a hand down his face. “That’s all my brain is allowing right now.”

  Elina suddenly grabbed Mayo’s arm, her fingers cool against his sleeve. “Can we see him?”

  Mayo hesitated. Then glanced at the space beside him.

  “He’s here,” he said quietly. “Right now.”

  Ozair spun in a full circle. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

  “He can camouflage.”

  Ozair squinted at the air, as if that might help. “Hey! Robot! If you’re there, do something!”

  For a heartbeat, nothing changed.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Then the air behind Ozair shimmered, like heat rising from pavement. Color bled slowly into existence.

  Blue.

  Smooth.

  A shape forming where there had been nothing.

  Ozair turned and screamed.

  He stumbled backward, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on the grass.

  Toviro stood there now, blue surface gleaming under the sun, a circular core pulsing in his chest. Two thin red antennae glowed faintly above a face defined by two steady points of light.

  “Hello,” Toviro said calmly.

  Elina covered her mouth, eyes wide, breath caught between fear and wonder.

  Ozair scrambled backward on his elbows. “Nah. Nah. Nah.”

  Aryan blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

  "Okay," he said, almost laughing. "That's actually sick."

  He leaned in a little, eyes scanning Toviro with genuine interest. Not fear. Not confusion. Just... appreciation.

  “You asked me to do something,” Toviro said, looking down at Ozair. “I appeared. Was that correct?”

  Ozair blinked up at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

  He laughed again, bending forward as he tried to catch his breath, the sound rushing out of him in quick bursts.

  “A robot,” he said breathlessly. “A real robot.” He pointed at Mayo. “You’ve had this thing for one whole day, and you didn’t tell us?”

  “I didn’t know how.”

  Elina stepped closer, cautious but curious now. “Are you… friendly?”

  “I am here to assist Mayo. That is my mission.”

  “Assist him with what?” Aryan asked.

  Toviro paused.

  “Various things.”

  Ozair pushed himself up to sitting, eyes still wide. “That’s not comforting.”

  The sun dipped lower, casting gold across the field. Everything looked normal, which made it feel stranger.

  They eventually sat in a loose circle. Toviro remained standing at first.

  Ozair’s shock had fully transformed into excitement. “Okay. First things first. What’s your name again?”

  “Toviro.”

  “Toviro,” Ozair repeated, nodding. “Cool name. Can you do that ball thing again? The stopping thing?”

  Without hesitation, Toviro raised his hand.

  Ozair tossed the ball toward him.

  It froze midair. Perfectly still.

  Then, as if guided by invisible threads, it floated gently back into Ozair’s hands.

  Ozair’s jaw dropped. “Whoa.”

  Elina laughed softly, disbelief mixing with wonder. “Do it again.”

  Ozair threw it harder this time.

  The ball stopped once more, inches from Toviro’s palm, rotating before easing back.

  “This is insane,” Ozair breathed. “Actually insane.”

  Aryan stepped closer, studying it carefully.

  “How are you doing that?” he asked quietly.

  Elina stepped forward. “Can you do something pretty? Like the light things Mayo mentioned?”

  Toviro’s core pulsed.

  The air above them filled with tiny glowing lights, dozens of them drifting downward like fireflies, casting soft blue over the grass.

  Elina gasped and held one in her palm. It glowed warmly before dissolving.

  “That’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  Ozair ran through them, trying to grab as many as he could. They slipped through his fingers and reformed above him.

  “Hey. They’re cheating.”

  The lights seemed to tease him, drifting just out of reach. He chased them across the field, laughing breathlessly.

  Aryan caught one and held it quietly, watching it fade with thoughtful focus.

  Mayo watched all of them.

  And Toviro slowly lowered himself to sit on the grass.

  Aryan noticed. One eyebrow lifted. “You can sit?”

  “I can do many things.”

  “Why didn’t you sit before?”

  “No one asked.”

  Aryan's lips curved slightly, a small quiet smile appearing on his face.

  The sun dropped lower. Orange and pink filled the sky.

  They lay on the grass, tired from laughing. Toviro sat among them as if he'd always been there.

  Ozair stared at the sky. "This is the best day ever."

  Elina nodded. "I don't want it to end."

  Aryan was quiet for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Then don't let it."

  Ozair sat up. "Same time? You want to come back?"

  Aryan looked at Toviro. "He's got more to show."

  Toviro's chest light pulsed. Brighter than before.

  As the sky deepened into purple, they walked home together.

  At Mayo's street, they paused.

  Ozair punched his arm lightly. "Tomorrow. Don't be late."

  Elina smiled at him. "I'm glad you told us."

  Aryan looked right at him. "You did well, man." He gave a small nod. "Really."

  They went their separate ways.

  Mayo stood outside his door for a long moment. Then he opened it.

  His parents were in the living room. His mom looked up from her book. "You're late."

  Mayo stepped inside. "There's something I need to tell you."

  His dad lowered his newspaper.

  So he told them. All of it. The robot. The closet. The message. His friends knowing. Everything.

  They listened. Didn't interrupt. When he finished, silence filled the room.

  His mom just stared at him. Her book sat forgotten in her lap. "A... robot?"

  "In my closet," Mayo said. "For days."

  His dad rubbed his face slowly. "Mayo, that's... that's not possible."

  "I know it sounds crazy. But he's real. He's right here."

  His mom glanced around the empty room. "Honey, there's nothing—"

  "Toviro," Mayo said softly. "You can come out."

  The air shifted. Light bent. And then Toviro was there. Blue metal. Smooth lines. Chest pulsing with a soft glow.

  His mom made a sound—small, like all the air left her at once. Her hand pressed against her chest. "Oh my God."

  His dad stumbled back a step. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He just stared, eyes wide, frozen.

  Toviro spoke. "I am Toviro. I am here to help Mayo. I mean no harm to anyone in this house."

  His mom looked at Mayo, then at Toviro, then back at Mayo. "Is he... is he real? Am I dreaming?"

  "I thought that too," Mayo said. "But no. He's real."

  His dad finally found his voice. It came out rough. "Where... where did he come from?"

  "I don't know exactly. But he's been protecting me. Watching over me. He's... he's my friend."

  His dad stared at Toviro for a long time. Then he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Okay."

  Mayo blinked. "Okay?"

  His dad ran a hand through his hair, still processing. "I don't understand any of this. But you're standing here. You're safe. And he's... here." He shook his head slowly. "That's enough for now."

  His mom wiped her eyes. "Does he need anything? Food? Water? I don't even know what—"

  "He doesn't eat," Mayo said gently.

  She let out a shaky laugh. "Of course not. Why would he?" She looked at Toviro again, still in disbelief. "Well... okay. I guess we'll figure this out."

  Toviro tilted his head. "Your parents are kind."

  Mayo almost laughed.

  Later, in his room, Mayo lay on his bed. Toviro stood by the window, looking out at the stars.

  The room was quiet and comfortable.

  "Toviro?"

  "Yes?"

  Mayo stared at the ceiling. "Do you notice things? About me?"

  "Many things."

  "Like what?"

  Toviro turned from the window. His chest light pulsed softly.

  "You perform."

  Mayo's brow furrowed. "What?"

  "When you are with others. Your family. Your friends. You show them what they expect to see. A smile. A laugh. Agreement."

  Mayo didn't say anything.

  Toviro continued. "You do not have to perform here. Not with me."

  Mayo turned his head, really looking at him now.

  "The light inside you dims when you perform. It brightens when you are yourself." He paused. "You do not have to be what people expect. It is your life. You do not have to say yes when you want to say no."

  Mayo's throat tightened. The tightening that usually happened to him but never made any sense.

  "What makes you happy does not have to make sense to anyone else."

  Silence.

  Mayo looked away. At the ceiling. At the crack that had always been there.

  No one had ever said that to him before.

  "How do you know that?" His voice came out quiet.

  "I observe. I learn." Toviro's chest light pulsed. "And I am here to help the light grow bright. That is what the light needs. Truth. Not performance."

  Mayo stared at the ceiling. The pressure built quietly inside him, familiar and unwelcome. He tried to swallow it, but it didn't help.

  Something cracked open inside him.

  His eyes burned. A tear slipped down his face. Then another. He squeezed his eyes shut, but they kept coming. His breath hitched. His shoulders shook. And then he was crying—really crying, his whole body trembling.

  Toviro moved closer and sat on the floor beside the bed. He didn't touch him. Didn't speak. He just stayed near, his chest pulsing slowly and warm.

  Mayo turned his face into his pillow and let it out. All of it.

  The room filled with the sound of his crying and the soft, steady glow that never looked away.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt like someone actually saw him.

  But far away from that moment. Much farther. So far away that the stars looked different.

  Darkness. Not the kind that comes at night. The kind that no light can ever reach.

  Two figures stood in the void.

  One remained standing, still as stone. The other knelt with his head bowed low.

  The standing figure's voice cut through the silence—quiet and cold. "Did you find what we seek?"

  The kneeling one kept his eyes on the ground. "My prime, we tried. But finding them among so many people... It's impossible."

  Silence stretched between them.

  "Assemble the army."

  The kneeling man's head shot up. "My prime—bringing a whole army from UV-2 would take time. And if we increase the King of Kings's army with these people—"

  The standing figure cut him off. "The King of Kings's orders and Prime First's orders are my priority. Nothing else matters."

  The kneeling one swallowed. "But my prime, the time—"

  "Then assemble the Blood Shadows."

  A pause.

  "And some of the Reapers."

  The kneeling one's eyes went wide. "My prime, the Blood Shadows and Reapers together—"

  Just then, a savage strike tore across his left shoulder, nearly taking his head. Blood spilled down, and the man staggered, coughing until a thin stream of blood escaped his lips.

  He barely raised his head.

  The standing figure had turned. Only half his face was visible. One eye glowed red in the darkness.

  "Know your place, you fool." The voice was cold as ice. "Do you not know who stands before you?"

  The man dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against the ground. A thin trickle of blood slipped from his lips as he rasped, "Please forgive me, Prime Second…” His voice broke, silence hanging for a moment. Then, forcing the words out, “It won’t happen again. They will be here in several days."

  The standing figure watched him for a long, terrible moment.

  "This is your last chance. If it happens again, I will eliminate you myself. Right beside those filthy things."

  The kneeling one stayed pressed to the ground, trembling.

  Then the standing figure dissolved. Dark things rose from him—small shapes like birds, like shadows with wings. They scattered into the night, and he was gone.

  The kneeling one remained there for a long time. Alone. Shaking. In the dark.