With a nod, I headed into the building, pushing open its heavy double doors. The inside was lively—students lounged on benches, some deep in conversation while others dozed off. Most of the activity centered around a large tree in the middle of the hall, with groups sitting on tables beneath its sprawling branches. A few teachers wandered the area, their watchful eyes ensuring order.

Back in my world, I would’ve slipped through unnoticed, blending in as if I didn’t exist. But here, I felt exposed. People’s gazes lingered on my face, tracing the scars that hadn’t fully healed, and on the slight limp in my left leg. Attention like this made my stomach twist.

I kept my head down, focusing on the hallway ahead. My goal was clear: get to the room where I’d been tested. If I couldn’t find anything in the books about the strange eye, I had no backup plan.

A familiar figure caught my eye as I passed—a girl with red skin, dark wings, and sharp horns. A noxivera. She sat at one of the tables, her presence impossible to miss. I tried to ignore her and move on, not wanting to waste time.

“What happened to you?” Her voice cut through the hum of conversation. “And where are you rushing off to?”

I stopped and turned halfway toward her. “In a rush. Sorry.”

“Do you even remember my name?”

I paused, hesitating. “No. Sorry.”

“Mox,” she said flatly, crossing her arms. “Where are you going?”

“Getting some air,” I lied, hoping it would end the conversation. “Goodbye.”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Hold on. I need to talk to you. Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either.”

I glanced at her, my shoulders tightening. “I’m listening.”

“Thanks for finding those dogs,” she said, her tone softer than I expected. “The stray I was feeding? I felt awful when she disappeared. I had no idea that Suzan woman would do something like that.”

I sighed, stepping closer. “How did you know it was me?”

“Phobe mentioned it,” she said with a shrug. “I eat at her place sometimes. She’s a good friend of my mother—always gives me a discount.”

“Right.” I nodded stiffly. “No problem.”

“That’s it. Just wanted to thank you. You can go now.”

“Hmm. Will do.” I gave a curt nod. “Goodbye.”

“Hey, actually, one more thing---” She said. “Did you see… someone on the rooftop today?”

“Uh… no?”

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Right. Must’ve seen a bird or something. Anyways, see ya.”

As I walked away, I made a mental note: rescuing those dogs should’ve stayed hidden. Attention from strangers, no matter how well-meaning, was the last thing I wanted. I'd have to talk to Phobe about it.

After a few minutes of walking, I realised I’d forgotten where I was supposed to go. The building's grandeur only added to my disorientation—fountains inside the hall, elaborate statues lining the walls, and the massive tree made everything feel luxurious yet unfamiliar. I longed for the dull, featureless halls of my old school.

“Hmm… was it—oh yeah. That way.”

Recalling the path, I moved toward a door and stepped into the back garden. Rain from yesterday had left the benches soaked, and students who sat on them used clothes to keep dry while chatting with their friends.

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Crossing a small bridge that led to another building, I stepped inside and followed the corridor. Turning left, I came to an inner bridge with the endless forest stretching out on both sides. The sight reassured me I was heading the right way.

At the end of the bridge, I opened a door and entered the room where I’d been tested. Inside, it was dark, with only the dim torches on the walls providing light, just as I remembered. The bookshelves lining the walls were swallowed by shadows, the faint glow unable to reach them.

“Good,” I muttered under my breath. “Now… let’s see.”

A woman, likely a teacher, stood by the bookshelves, skimming through their contents. She glanced up, her sharp gaze landing on me. “Who are you?”

“Axel, ma’am,” I replied, standing straighter. “The library is open, right?”

“This room isn’t a library anymore,” she said, setting a book aside. “It’s now used for testing. The library is upstairs on the second floor.”

“Oh… sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“What kind of book are you looking for?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Maybe we have it here.”

My chest tightened with hope. “It’s about an eye that appears in the sky. A very disgusting one.”

Her eyes narrowed as she thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. That. There’s a book mentioning it.”

“Really?” I leaned forward. “Do you know the title? Or who wrote it?”

“I don’t recall the author… but the book’s name is Void 101. It’s fairly common.”

“Thank you,” I said, with a dull voice. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Not so fast, young man.” She stepped forward, blocking my path. “The first lesson is about to start. You should head to your classroom.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “I, uh… right, ma’am. Have a good day. Thanks for the help.”

══════✦══════

I stood in front of the door labelled "1-F," staring at it. Memories of my first day in high school crept in—nothing special, no excitement. I’d just walked in, claimed an empty seat, and quietly waited while everyone else chatted. Ada wasn’t in my class back then; she was in Class D. James, on the other hand, ended up sitting next to me because he’d been late. The first thing he said was, “Hey, I’m James. Did you see how Merona stock dropped yesterday? Wild, huh?”

Snapping back to the present, I muttered under my breath, “I’m temporary here. No need to overthink this.”

But deep down, my chest felt tight with unease. It wasn’t about fitting in—that was never an issue. It was the fact that I wasn’t in my world, a place where I understood the rules. Here, everything felt unstable, unpredictable, and I hated it.

With a sigh, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The classroom was unremarkable—lined desks, students either chatting or resting their heads. Two open windows let a light breeze in, rustling old curtains. The teacher’s desk sat on a slightly raised platform, with a chalkboard behind it.

I caught a few stares but ignored them, choosing an empty desk at the very front, right in front of the teacher’s table. There were around ten desks, half of them empty.

Leaning back in my seat, I let out a soft grunt. “Better than my high school,” I muttered to myself.

With five minutes until class started, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and mindlessly opened the calculator app. Closed it. Opened it again. My shoulders tightened under the weight of all the eyes still on me. This wasn’t something I was used to—I was supposed to blend into the background, not stand out.

Footsteps approached, and I slumped forward, resting my head on the desk. Maybe if I pretended to sleep, they’d leave me alone.

“Hey,” a voice said, stopping beside me. “It’s… Axel, right?”

I raised my head and turned slightly. Standing there was Jane, the one who’d stitched my wound back at the cabin. I still owed her a proper thanks.

“Yes,” I replied, sitting up straighter. “I, uh, thank you for helping me back then. You really saved my life.”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “No need. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

'Not me,' I thought but nodded instead. “Yeah, of course.”

Her gaze swept over the room before she leaned against the teacher’s desk, crossing her arms. “So… Class F, huh? Tough luck.”

I exhaled sharply. “Yeah. My mana pool was so low, they couldn’t even measure it.”

She tilted her head, a flicker of pity in her eyes. “That’s rough. What about affinity?”

“None,” I said flatly. “Not even a trace.”

She winced. “Oof. Well, I thought I had the worst scores, but you might’ve just beaten me.”

“Right?” I mumbled.

The sound of the door opening cut through our conversation.

“Alright, everyone,” the teacher called, stepping in with a commanding voice. “Take your seats. The lesson’s starting.”