GTS Summoner Ch 15: The Crashing Waves!

(Mark)

Mark sat at the front of his classroom, the pale morning light filtering through cracked windowpanes, casting long shadows across the desks. The chalkboard was freshly wiped clean, ready for the day's lesson. He ran a hand through his still-disheveled brown hair, trying to steady his nerves.

Please, let today be uneventful, he thought, glancing over the sea of young faces staring back at him with varying degrees of curiosity and boredom.

"Alright, class," Mark began, forcing a smile, "today we're diving into fractions. Who can tell me what a fraction is?"

A few hands shot up. Mark pointed to a shy girl near the front, who explained it correctly, and he nodded encouragingly.

Throughout the lesson, Mark moved up and down the aisles, helping students with problems, patiently answering questions, and making small jokes here and there to keep things light. The sound of pencils scratching paper filled the room, punctuated by the occasional giggle or whispered question.

For once, the day seemed normal. No distant rumbles shaking the building. No terrifying news broadcasts. Just math.

Mark glanced at the clock on the wall. Nearly time for lunch. The bell rang sharply, echoing through the halls, signaling the end of the period.

Students shuffled out, chatting and laughing. Mark gathered his notes and packed up his things, feeling a little relief wash over him. Maybe, just maybe, he could catch a break.

He headed to the teachers' lounge, a modest room with a worn table, mismatched chairs, and a faint smell of coffee that clung stubbornly to the air. He pulled out his sandwich, quietly thankful for the small moments of peace. Sitting alone, Mark took a bite, savoring the simple act of eating without fear or chaos just outside the walls.

For now, at least, the world could wait.

***

(Somewhere else)

Far away from the cracked walls of the school and the echo of shattered glass, a young boy named Jamie walked eagerly beside his father along the seaside promenade. The salty breeze tousled his dark hair as he bounced on his heels, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Dad, are you really taking me out on the boat today?" Jamie asked, barely able to contain himself.

His father chuckled, ruffling Jamie's hair. "Of course, kiddo. Just you, me, and the open ocean."

Jamie grinned ear to ear. The ocean had always held a kind of magic for him—a vast, endless blue that promised adventure and mystery. Today was special. Today, he was going to sail.

They reached the dock, where a modest fishing boat bobbed gently in the water, its paint faded from years of sun and salt. The smell of seaweed and fresh fish filled the air.

Jamie practically dragged his father toward the boat. "Come on! Let's go!"

With quick, practiced steps, they climbed aboard. Jamie's small hands gripped the railing tightly as the boat pulled away from the dock, the engine's low hum blending with the rhythm of the waves.

The water splashed against the hull, misting Jamie's face, making his skin tingle. His father pointed out parts of the boat—the mast, the rudder, the netting—each explanation filled with warmth and patience.

Jamie tried to focus, but a sudden, sharp pain bloomed in his head. He rubbed his temples, blinking against the sun.

"Are you okay?" his father asked, noticing the boy's grimace.

"I'm fine," Jamie said, forcing a smile. "Just a headache."

Then, from somewhere deep beneath the waves, a voice rang out—deep, resonant, echoing over the water.

"I'm awakening!"

The boat shuddered violently. Jamie screamed, clutching the railing as the sea turned wild beneath them.

His father's hands gripped the wheel tightly, fighting to steady the vessel. "Hold on, Jamie! It's going to be okay!"

But the water churned and roared as if angry at their presence. Suddenly, a colossal hand burst from the ocean's depths, sending towering waves crashing against the sides of the boat.

The water hissed and frothed as the hand slammed back down, leaving a trail of foam.

"I am coming," the voice boomed again, low and commanding.

Jamie looked over the side, heart pounding, and saw two glowing blue eyes staring up from beneath the waves. The ocean shimmered unnaturally around them.

Then, with a sudden rush of water and spray, a massive head emerged—a giant woman with flowing blue hair that shimmered like the sea itself.

Her eyes blazed with a cold, unyielding light as she declared, "I am here! I am the calamity of waves!"

The boat rocked dangerously as Jamie clung to his father, both staring up at the towering figure who ruled the sea like a living storm.

***

(Mark)

Back in the teachers' lounge, Mark sat quietly, halfway through his soggy sandwich, the rare calm of the day settling in like a fragile bubble around him. He took a bite, savoring the simple, familiar taste, grateful for a moment's peace.

Then, without warning, a sharp pang stabbed through his temples. His head throbbed violently, and he clutched it with both hands, fingers digging into his scalp as a dull roar filled his ears.

"She is coming," a deep, echoing voice whispered inside his mind, low and grave like distant thunder.

Mark's eyes widened. He barely managed to keep himself upright as the pain surged. His sandwich slipped from his fingers, falling in slow motion onto the table, forgotten.

"The waves shall crash," the voice continued, relentless. "The oceans shall rage."

Mark gritted his teeth, trying to silence the voice that gnawed at his sanity.

"The sword stands and awaits..." it murmured once more, before fading into silence.

His breath came heavy and uneven. For a moment, he just sat there, stunned, a cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. "Just what I needed."

He glanced around the lounge, half-expecting someone to notice him talking to himself, but the room was empty save for the distant hum of the air conditioner.

Mark shook his head, trying to clear the fog. Whatever was coming, it wasn't done with him — or the world.