A bright morning dawned over the small town, the sun draping golden warmth over everything it touched. The air was crisp, yet the warmth of the sun made the early hours feel hopeful — a promise that today might be better than yesterday.
Walking down a narrow street lined with cherry blossom trees were two high school boys in the same uniform — dark blazers, loose ties, backpacks slung lazily over their shoulders.
Takumi was the louder one — seventeen, full of restless energy, with hair that always stuck up in random directions no matter how many times he combed it down. He kept bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he couldn't wait to run somewhere — anywhere.
Beside him, Tenma walked quietly, hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched. His dark hair fell over his eyes, as if he wanted to hide behind it. He wasn't much of a talker — and people noticed that about him, too often for his liking.
But today, Takumi couldn't hold back his imagination. He looked up at the clear blue sky with a grin stretching across his face.
> "Hey, Tenma! You know what would be so cool? If we were warriors! Like… real warriors with swords and armor. We'd be unstoppable!"
Tenma raised his head slightly, and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It was the kind of smile he rarely showed anyone.
> "Yeah… if that were true, no one would call me ugly anymore, huh…"
Takumi paused, then burst out laughing so loudly that a bird flew from a nearby branch, startled.
> "Hahaha! Who cares what they say? If we were warriors, I'd show everyone how strong I really am! I'd slice through monsters, protect people, become a hero…!"
His eyes sparkled with a boyish excitement that made Tenma laugh, too — a small, shy laugh that disappeared just as quickly as it came.
The two walked the rest of the way to school talking about swords and dragons and giant evil bosses they'd defeat together — a dream that, to them, felt silly and impossible. But they liked how it sounded, and that was enough.
---
Scene Shift: Classroom
The school day began like any other — the chatter of students, the teacher's calm voice droning on about equations and history dates, the scratching of pens against paper. Takumi sat half-awake, doodling swords in the margins of his notebook. Tenma, sitting by the window, stared out at the sky, half-listening, half-lost in his own thoughts.
Then, everything changed in an instant.
It started with a faint humming sound — so soft it almost blended with the hum of the classroom lights. Then, a flash — not a flicker, but a blinding, all-consuming light that forced everyone to shield their eyes. Desks rattled, papers flew into the air. A cold wind seemed to rush through the room even though the windows were shut tight.
Takumi squeezed his eyes shut. Tenma felt his heart pound so violently it hurt. The light grew hotter, whiter — and then, just as suddenly, it was gone.
When they dared to open their eyes, the classroom was no longer there.
Instead, they stood in an open, desolate expanse. The ground beneath their feet felt like cold, cracked stone. The air was heavy — thick with something that smelled faintly like metal and ashes. The sky overhead was no longer the soft blue of their hometown. It was an eerie, endless crimson — like fresh blood smeared across the heavens. Strange, dark clouds swirled and pulsed, as if alive.
Students huddled together in confusion, their eyes wide with fear. Some clung to each other, others looked around wildly, hoping they were dreaming.
Then, it came — the voice.
It didn't echo through the air in the normal sense. It seemed to reverberate inside their heads, vibrating in their bones, ancient and cold.
> WELCOME TO THE MOONLIGHT BLADES.
The students froze, shivers crawling up their spines.
> "You have all been chosen to become part of a new game — a world where only the strongest can survive. If you wish to return to your precious world, there is but one way…"
A chill swept through the crowd as the voice paused. Even the air seemed to grow heavier.
> "Defeat the boss of this realm… THE DRAGON GOD."
A distant, monstrous roar echoed through the blood-red sky as if to prove those words true.
The voice returned, sharper, more mocking.
> "To unlock the Dragon God's chamber, you will need ten S-Rank swords — keys forged from the power of this world's greatest warriors. Only the strongest blades can open the door to your freedom."
In the air before the students, ghostly figures began to take shape — a hundred swords, each suspended upright in a perfect line. Some gleamed with an ethereal glow. Some pulsed with dark energy, like they were alive and waiting. Each blade floated with a number above it — ranks.
> 1–10: D-Rank
11–30: C-Rank
31–60: B-Rank
61–90: A-Rank
91–100: S-Rank
Takumi's eyes went wide. He grabbed Tenma's shoulder, his voice trembling but excited.
> "Do you see that? Swords! Real swords! We really ARE warriors now!"
Students were called forward one by one. A blade would hover towards its chosen wielder, sinking into their outstretched hands, its power bonding with their soul. Some wept with relief when they received shining A-Rank or even an S-Rank blade. Others howled in rage when they got stuck with a rusty D-Rank.
Takumi's turn came. His heartbeat thundered in his chest as a sword bathed in white light drifted towards him — No. 95. An S-Rank! He could almost feel the power crackling up his arm as he gripped the hilt, his entire body buzzing with newfound strength.
> "Tenma! Did you see that? I got 95! I can really fight! I can protect you!"
Tenma managed a tiny, hopeful smile, though his eyes darted nervously to the remaining swords. One by one, the ranks dwindled. The best were all gone.
Finally, Tenma's name was called. His hands trembled as a dull, chipped blade drifted towards him. Its number glowed faintly — No. 1.
A gasp. Silence. Then — laughter. Mocking, cutting laughter from the braver students around him.
> "Haha! Even here, you're the weakest, Tenma! What a joke!"
"That sword's practically useless!"
Takumi stepped forward, glaring at the others, but Tenma lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind his hair. The weak sword felt heavy in his hands, almost like it mocked him too.
The voice returned, booming louder this time, its tone merciless.
> "If you wish to stay alive… you'll have to fight."
A new horror filled the students' eyes as glowing numbers appeared midair — a countdown.
10… 9… 8…
Some students clutched their blades tighter, shifting their feet. Others looked around, hoping desperately for an exit that didn't exist.
Takumi grabbed Tenma's wrist.
> "Stay close to me. Don't let go, okay?"
Tenma's fingers curled tighter around his worthless sword, knuckles white.
3… 2… 1…
The moment the timer vanished, chaos erupted.
A scream pierced the air as one student lunged at another, blade slashing wildly. Sparks flew as swords clashed. Blood splattered onto the cracked stone ground. Some students fought with rage, desperate to prove themselves. Others dropped their weapons and ran — only to be cut down from behind.
Takumi pulled Tenma behind a massive, gnarled tree. The thick trunk barely hid them from the madness playing out around them.
Takumi's breathing came in ragged gasps. He could hear the clash of steel, the pained cries. His heart raced, but his grip on his sword was steady.
Tenma, pressed against the rough bark, felt tears prick at his eyes. His voice trembled.
> "Takumi… we can't do this. I have the weakest sword. If anyone finds us, they'll… they'll…"
Takumi shot him a fierce look.
> "If we just hide here, we'll die anyway! We have to move — think! There must be a way out. I won't let you die here, Tenma. Not like this!"
Tenma's chest tightened. Somewhere deep down, he wished he could believe that.
And then — everything fell silent.
Not because the fighting stopped, but because every remaining student turned to stare at a single figure standing at the center of the carnage.
A boy stood there — tall, calm, not a speck of blood on him. His uniform was pristine, his hair perfectly in place. In his hand rested a black blade — the No. 100 sword. Eclipse.
The Eclipse owner's eyes were cold, detached, almost bored. He hadn't taken a single step the entire time.
One student, trembling but desperate, let out a roar and charged at him, sword raised overhead.
The Eclipse wielder barely moved. His blade flickered — just once.
Shinngg!!
The attacker crumpled to the ground, eyes wide in shock, a crimson line blooming across his chest.
The Eclipse owner looked down at the body with faint disdain. Then he lifted his head and spoke, voice low but clear enough for every soul on that battlefield to hear:
> "Weak."
The word hit like ice. The blood, the screams, the chaos — all fell into an unnatural silence. In that moment, every survivor realized the truth: in this world, only the strongest had the right to live.
And for Tenma, clutching his pitiful blade in the shadows, the nightmare was only just beginning…
---
To be continued…