Trapped. Alone. Waiting to be free'd. Nothing is in my control anymore. I sit here crying in this empty abyss. My friends have been killed. By who? Me? Was this the real me? Or was this something else. Something different. Something... Toxic.

"We must surrender." Tommy knows the war for L'manberg's independence has been fought and lost. And yet he can't let the sacrifices of his fellow soldiers be made in vain.

Here comes trouble. In Zodia, an island comprised of 12 Kingdoms all ruled under the same monarchy, there is a tradition. Every fifteen years the Queen's protectors, a group of powerful warriors known as the Zodiacs, are replaced. Being a Zodiac doesn't just come with power and responsibility, it is also fame and fortune. As the current Generation of Zodiacs approach their thirteenth year of service, it is time for the Queen to select a new Generation to begin their training. Now enter The Class: a group of thirteen mismatched troublesome high-schoolers who definitely wouldn't be anyone's first pick to defend the Queen. They're cunning, obnoxious, difficult, have terrible habits and sure as hell don't respond well to authority. Everyone in Zodia's high-school knows who you're talking about when you mention 'The Class'. It's the class at the very back of the building. The class with paint on the door and a smashed in window. The class that forced three teachers to quit. The class that is really just a permanent detention center. So what happens when the Queen decides they're going to be Zodia's next Generation of heroes? All hell breaks lose.

CURRENTLY ON HOLD- 04.22.20 *cover by @atolla* **Every chapter is based on the other, so if you only look for your sign's name, good luck fully understanding the story!** A word is worth so much more when you mean what you say. For instance, "need." Necesities are not wants but requirements. To be desperate of. To be necessary of because it's extremely important. "Love." It's more than an endearment. When words can't describe the fondness of a thing or person. Being able to overlook the bad with good. Maybe even willing to fight for. To die for. "Ours." Used to refer to a thing belonging or associated with one. Not necessarily being possessive, but more of a reference to both sides knowing who or what they belong to. "You left everything behind," she says. "Everything." "Everything is standing right in front of me," he replied, pulling her hair back behind her ear. "You know what I mean," she says, trying to keep a frown on her face. He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm fine with starting over, y'know? It'll be worth it." "But you had so much," she reminded him. "And I still do." She sighed now. "Are you sure this is what you really want? Everything you owned-" "Is gone, I know," he interrupted. "I'm fine with that though." He held her hand and squeezed it. "Nothing will be mine anymore. It'll be ours." "Ours? But we have nothing." "I'm willing to start over if you are. If we're starting over I want to share everything with you. Everything." He looks at the distance over the horizon now. "And it'll be ours." She still remained to say nothing as she also looked over the horizon. He took a deep breath at the awkward silence. "Yeah," she finally says, eyes still focused over the horizon. "Ours."