Luminara's Shadow

In the evening, after a lively karaoke session where laughter and singing had echoed late into the night, Marc trudged home, dragging his feet. He dropped his belongings at the entrance, making his way slowly to the living room. There, he found his father comfortably settled on the couch, eyes glued to the television.

"Hey, old man!" Marc greeted with a tired smile as he approached his father.

His father turned his head slightly and gave a small wave, his eyes never fully leaving the screen. "How was your night?" he asked in a casual tone.

Marc plopped down beside him, stretching like a cat before answering. "Pretty great. We partied like crazy. Went to karaoke—you know, the thing where everyone sings together." He chuckled at the thought of the fun moments from the night. "But man, I'm exhausted now."

His father nodded, still watching the TV. "Sounds like you had fun. Alright, off to bed with you. I'll finish watching this, then head to bed too."

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I... use the gun in the safe?"

"No!"

"Come on, just a few shots!"

"Don't bring that up again."

"Tch."

Marc climbed the stairs, dragging his feet as he headed to his room. Entering, he tossed his gym bag onto the floor and went straight to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water eased his tired muscles, washing away the exhaustion from the night.

Meanwhile, his phone, left on the desk in his room, vibrated softly. A text message from an unknown number appeared on the screen. Still in the shower, Marc didn't notice the notification right away.

When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he walked over to his desk to check the message.

The text was brief:

"Hello, Marc,

I've seen what you and your friends have done to Eliott. We can resolve this peacefully if you choose. Please respond to this message."

Marc reread the lines, intrigued and a little unsettled by the formal tone. He wondered who could have sent such a message. It wasn't like anyone he knew.

Tired and still caught up in the remnants of the evening, he immediately assumed it was some kind of prank by one of his friends. Shrugging it off, he decided not to think about it further and deal with it later. He turned off the light and went to bed, ready to face another day.

The Next Day

During a usual gathering with his group, Marc and his friends were chatting about the day and the latest school rumors. The tallest member of the group suddenly broke the casual atmosphere.

"Did any of you guys get that weird message from some random number?"

A surprising silence followed, shocking the group. Marc furrowed his brows, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "This is a joke, right? One of you sent it, didn't you?" he demanded, searching for an explanation.

But each one shook their head earnestly, denying any involvement. They all pulled out their phones to prove it, showing they had received the exact same message.

A wave of confusion washed over the group as murmurs rose, each trying to figure out what was going on.

Irritated by the situation, Marc decided to take charge. He turned abruptly to one of the boys in the group—a chubby, quiet classmate who often stayed in the background.

"Hey, fatso, come here," Marc snapped with a tone of disdain.

The boy looked up, startled by Marc's harsh glare. Seeing he had the boy's attention, Marc approached him, holding his phone up to his face.

"Did you get this message too?" he demanded sharply.

The boy, trembling, began to read the message on Marc's screen, but his words faltered in nervous stammers.

Annoyed, Marc struck the boy's shoulder sharply, making him flinch. "Focus!" Marc hissed.

The boy, breathing shakily, quickly composed himself and answered in a weak voice, "No... no, I didn't get it... I swear."

Marc's friends, equally baffled, started asking questions of their own. Voices overlapped as confusion escalated. Marc, growing more frustrated, silenced them with a cold glare.

"Shut up. Let me think."

Marc mulled over the message in his head. It mentioned Eliott, and whoever sent it clearly knew the details. It wasn't a coincidence—this person knew exactly who to target.

This gnawed at Marc. Why would someone suddenly want them to resolve this peacefully? More importantly, how did this person know they were involved?

Marc clenched his teeth. He realized that someone must have been watching them—an unseen witness who had information they shouldn't have.

"Whoever sent this message is probably here, in this class," Marc thought, casting quick glances around the room. But who could it be? He had no clear answer.

What he didn't know was how much the sender truly knew. Did they have evidence, or was this just an attempt at manipulation?

Marc's frustration grew. This situation was spiraling out of control, and he hated being left in the dark, wondering what the other side knew.

He resolved to act—but cautiously. For now, he decided to keep the matter to himself and figure out who was behind the mysterious message and, more importantly, what they really knew.