Creation Details
Prompt: “Three boys—Santi, Neymar, and Mario, all only sixteen—sat in the back of a dull classroom where the air felt heavy and time barely moved, the teacher’s voice dragging on while sunlight hit the desks in a way that made everything feel the same as yesterday and the day before, and Mario kept tapping his pencil, whispering jokes under his breath while Santi stared out the window thinking there had to be more than this, something bigger, something dangerous even if he didn’t fully admit it yet, while Neymar sat calm but aware, not quiet but selective, watching everything like he always did, until Santi’s phone buzzed with a blocked number that none of them expected, and when he answered and put it on speaker the distorted voice calling his name made the entire moment shift, the boredom cracking instantly into something tense as the voice spoke about “Criminal High School,” a hidden program inside their own school where students were trained not for grades but for heists, missions, and real money, promising them not just wealth but fear and power, and even when Mario laughed it off at first, saying it had to be fake, and Neymar narrowed his eyes, asking real questions, Santi didn’t hang up, because something about it felt real, and when the voice told them they were already in it and to wait until the final bell, that curiosity took over all three of them in different ways—Santi driven by the unknown, Neymar by instinct, and Mario by the idea of something more—and when the bell rang and their phones all buzzed at the same time with a message welcoming them and telling them not to be late, they walked down the hallway and found a black door that hadn’t been there before, opening it to reveal a massive underground facility where Director Kade stood waiting, calm and in control, and before they could even process it the doors slammed shut behind them, alarms blaring, red lights flashing, and attackers rushing them with real intent, forcing them into their first survival test where Mario panicked, breathing “huff… huff…” as he struggled to keep up, Santi began to think under pressure, analyzing movement and space, and Neymar stepped forward without hesitation, fighting with controlled precision, and together they adapted, not perfectly but enough to survive, which marked the beginning of their transformation as they were labeled—Santi as the strategist, Neymar as the executor, Mario as the wildcard—a word that stuck with Mario longer than he let on, and as days turned into weeks their training intensified with weapon drills, reaction tests, endurance runs, and simulated heists where Santi slowly took control, his mind always working ahead, planning routes, predicting outcomes, telling them where to move and when, while Neymar became sharper, faster, more efficient, executing every plan with near-perfect timing, earning recognition from Kade and the instructors, his calm voice guiding Mario at times, telling him when to wait, when to strike, proving his loyalty again and again by putting himself in danger to protect them, while Mario tried to keep up, laughing things off but breathing heavier during training, getting frustrated when he missed shots or moved too slow, hearing comments like “you hesitate” echo in his head, and as their first real missions began—small at first like stealing packages, breaking into empty buildings, delivering unknown items—they started getting paid, real money, and that’s when the gap truly began, because Neymar was earning more for his performance, Santi was being respected more for his plans, and Mario started noticing, comparing, questioning why he wasn’t getting the same, even if he didn’t say it directly at first, but over time their missions became bigger and more dangerous—armored trucks, high-security locations, coordinated team operations where Santi’s voice became the center of everything, calling plays mid-mission, “go left,” “wait,” “now,” his breathing steady even under pressure, while Neymar moved like a weapon, silent steps, precise actions, protecting Santi without needing to be told, proving his loyalty in ways that went beyond words, and Mario followed but with growing frustration, his breathing louder, “huff… huff…” during tense moments, his movements sometimes rushed, sometimes delayed, his mind no longer just focused on survival but on comparison, on why Neymar was seen as better, why Santi trusted him more, and that quiet frustration slowly turned into something heavier as arguments started, small at first, jokes with an edge, comments about money, about roles, about who was doing more, until they reached the final mission set in the mountains, a high-stakes heist with an escape helicopter waiting at the top, snow covering the ground, cold air biting at their skin, their breaths visible as “huff… huff…” clouds in the freezing air while everything went wrong halfway through with police arriving early, gunshots echoing across the mountain as they ran, Santi leading, calculating even under pressure, Neymar staying close behind covering them, firing back, protecting both of them, and Mario struggling to keep up, panic mixing with anger, his thoughts finally boiling over as they reached the edge near the helicopter, the sound of blades spinning in the air, escape so close, but instead of leaving he turned on Neymar, shouting about the money, about being treated like he was less, about always being second, his voice breaking through the chaos as Santi yelled for them to stop, but it was too late, the fight breaking out between them, slipping on the snowy ground, breaths heavy, fists swinging, until one wrong move sent Mario off balance, his eyes widening for a split second before he fell off the mountain, disappearing into the distance, his voice gone instantly, leaving only silence and the sound of wind, and for a moment everything froze, Neymar stepping forward in shock, breathing uneven now for the first time, trying to look down, whispering that he didn’t mean it, while Santi, heart racing, yelled that they had to go as police closed in, but Neymar didn’t move, choosing to stay back, telling Santi to leave, his voice firm even then, loyal to the end, turning to face the incoming officers, firing to hold them off as Santi hesitated, torn, before being forced toward the helicopter, and in those final seconds Neymar tried to move back but stumbled, too slow, a shot hitting him, then another, until the final bullet struck his head, dropping him instantly, and Santi stood there for a moment that felt like forever, everything they had been through flashing through his mind, before turning away and getting on the helicopter, leaving the mountain behind, leaving his friends behind, rising into the sky not as a normal student anymore but as the mastermind who survived, rich, feared… and completely alone.”
Art Style: Urban Drama
Color Mode: Black & White
Panels: 2
Created: