CHAPTER ONE
2379 AD, 300 years later
“Did I mention how much I hate history class?” Seth said as he carelessly flipped through the text book.
Seth was a fairly normal kid at that time. He went to a normal high school, he lived in a normal house, and he dressed like a normal kid. Unknown to him at this time, most of this was going to change. One of the only oddities that Seth possessed was his wavy, gray hair.
“I think you’ve mentioned it almost every day since we started school,” replied Kara, a shy but smart girl of about sixteen years old. Her hair was dark brown, a mesmerizing contrast against her piercing green eyes. Her face was like a statue’s—it was flawless.
Seth grinned, “I know, but every day it gets more and more boring and repetitive.” He yawned, stretching his body until it had reached its limit. His eyes wandered around the miniscule classroom. The lackluster and dull hues of the room were so familiar.
In his peripherals Seth noticed Xavier, his friend and brother. Xavier was unusually intelligent for his age. In a class with a majority of sixteen year olds, he was only fourteen. Like Seth, Xavier had light gray hair. Unlike Seth, his hair was straight and ceased at his shoulders. Unfortunately, Xavier was often subjected to teasing because of his age. At this time, Seth realized that he was presently being tormented by Knuckles, a conventional classroom bully.
Knuckles’ real name was Butch McGee, but considering how frequently he would commence fights, he had gained quite a reputation. This current act of violence was an accurate example.
“Hey Knuckles, cut it out!” interjected Garin as he hauled Knuckles’ arm backwards as if it were a meager twig, “Besides, what did Xavier ever do to you?”
Typically, Knuckles would have lost his temper by this time and retaliated, but concerning the immense stature of Garin, he concluded that he would rather surrender for the time being.
“Huh, I guess you losers have to stick together,” replied Knuckles shakily as he stumbled away.
Seth and Kara wandered towards Garin and Xavier. Seth detected the sea-green bruise developing on Xavier’s left arm and stated, “I can’t believe that the teacher just lets Knuckles do anything he wants.” Seth glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Wyatt, a stout man of about forty or so, who appeared to either be in deep concentration or simply slumbering. “Some teacher he is. Are you okay, Xavier?” inquired Seth.
“I’m fine