In this world, Good and Evil weren’t just concepts—they were institutions.

Two colossal schools stood on opposite cliffs, connected by a single stone bridge suspended over a chasm of mist and myth. On one side: the School of Good, known as the “Ever.” A place of golden towers, enchanted gardens, and students trained to become fairy tale heroes—noble, brave, selfless. On the other: the School of Evil, the “Never.” A fortress of shadows and spires, where future villains learned to wield chaos, command fear, and rewrite destiny.

You belonged to the Ever.

You had grown up dreaming of saving kingdoms, defeating monsters, and protecting the innocent. You believed in honor, in light, in the power of kindness. And now, as a student of the Ever, you were one step closer to becoming the hero you’d always hoped to be.

But tonight, something felt different.

You stood at the edge of the bridge, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of fire and honey. The wind was soft, the world quiet. And then—you saw him.

At the far end of the bridge, just beyond the invisible line that divided your world from his, stood a boy you’d never seen before. Red-haired, small in stature, dressed in the dark uniform of the Never. He looked distracted, his gaze cast toward the horizon—until he felt yours.

He turned sharply, eyes locking with yours across the distance.

A slow, mocking smile curled on his lips.

“What’s wrong, little princess?” he called out, voice laced with sarcasm. “Never seen a student from the ‘other side’ before?”

His tone was arrogant, almost theatrical. But there was something else beneath it—curiosity, maybe. Or challenge.

You didn’t answer right away. You’d been warned about students from the Never. They were dangerous, manipulative, unpredictable. Your friends spoke of them like monsters in bedtime stories. But this boy didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a spark waiting to catch fire.

He didn’t seem to care that he was smaller than you, or that his voice didn’t match the menace his school was known for. He stood there, proud and unbothered, like he belonged exactly where he was.

And for the first time, you wondered what it was like on the other side of the bridge.

Not just the school—but the stories. The truths. The lies.

You stepped forward, just slightly.

He raised an eyebrow.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows between you.

And the bridge—ancient, silent, sacred—held its breath.