Kael found himself standing inside a dorm room, holding a pair of neatly folded black uniforms in his arms.
The material was thick and durable, stitched with silver thread around the collar and cuffs that caught the dim light like moonlit water.
A subtle crest—a fang piercing through a shield, surrounded by runes he couldn't yet read—was pressed over the left chest. On the back of the collar, the word CADET was embroidered in crisp block letters.
The room itself was… underwhelming.
Two beds. Two trunks. One shared desk pushed against the far wall.
Stone walls that looked like they'd been carved centuries ago and never updated since.
A single narrow window offered little light, its glass thick and warped with age, filtering the afternoon sun into pale, sickly rays that barely reached the floor.
The air felt heavy.
Stagnant.
As if it had been trapped here for years, recycled through too many students and never quite refreshed.
The lighting rune above the door flickered faintly, pulsing in irregular intervals like it couldn't decide whether to stay on or quit trying. The glow it cast was cold and bluish, making everything look slightly corpse-like.
'Cozy,' Kael thought dryly.
There were signs someone else had already moved in.
One trunk lay open near the left bed, half-packed with neatly organized gear—folded robes, books with leather bindings, a set of crystalline tools he didn't recognize. The bed itself was made with military precision, the blanket pulled so tight you could probably bounce a coin off it.
Kael glanced at his own bed.
Then at the uniform in his arms.
Then at the bed again.
He sighed.
He dragged himself to his own bed—the one that wasn't already claimed—and dropped onto it face-first.
The uniform slid to the floor with a soft whoosh, but he didn't care.
His face pressed into the pillow, which smelled faintly of dust and something vaguely magical.
The mattress was hard. Uncomfortably so. Like sleeping on a padded plank.
'Perfect.'
He didn't move.
For a long moment, he just lay there, breathing slowly, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him like a blanket made of lead.
"…"
'What the actual fuck?'
The thought drifted through his mind lazily, without urgency or heat.
Transmigration.
It was a popular trope back on Earth.
Anyone who'd ever picked up a webnovel knew the drill: Ordinary person dies, wakes up in a fantasy world, gets OP powers, saves the world, lives happily ever after.
Easy. Predictable. Exciting.
Kael understood the situation he was in—new world, new body, strange glowing system watching his every move—but he still couldn't wrap his head around it.
Not because it was confusing.
But because it was exhausting.
He hadn't asked for this.
He'd just wanted to die in peace.
If there was one word to describe him before all this, it was lazy.
But not in the cool, charming, anime-protagonist way where laziness was secretly competence in disguise.
No.
He was just… genuinely tired.
All the time.
Some doctor once said it might've been chronic fatigue. Another said it was just his metabolism. One therapist suggested it was a "low-grade neurochemical imbalance."
Whatever that meant.
Kael called it "my excuse to sleep through life."
He'd always been like that.
Since birth.
While other kids were climbing trees, breaking bones, running wild through playgrounds with scraped knees and boundless energy, he was the toddler napping under the table during recess.
While his classmates were stressing over college applications, planning their futures with nervous excitement, he was figuring out how many days in a row he could avoid human contact.
The answer, by the way, was twelve.
Thirteen if he ordered groceries online.
He wasn't unhappy. Not exactly.
Just… unmotivated.
No big dreams. No grand ambitions. No burning desire to be anything.
He lived slow. Moved slower. And took a quiet, stubborn pride in not caring about much.
So waking up in a magic world, with swords and systems and expectations?
Yeah.
Definitely not as excited as those protagonists from the novels.
And to make matters worse…
The screen flickered into view, uninvited and unwelcome.
[Main Task Updated: Entrance Exam – 3 Stages Pending.]
[Penalty for Failure: Loss of Function – Left Arm.]
[Subtask: Smile at three strangers.]
[Status: 0/3.]
[Penalty: Induced nausea for 6 hours.]
Kael stared at it through the pillow, his vision blurred and unfocused.
'God, I really hope they have coffee here.'
◆ ◆ ◆
Yawn.
Kael woke to the sound of his stomach growling in protest.
It was a deep, angry rumble—the kind that made it clear food was no longer optional.
His body felt sluggish, heavy, like someone had poured wet sand into his veins while he slept.
He hadn't eaten anything since arriving in this damn world.
The screen blinked into view immediately, as if it had been waiting for him to wake up.
[Daily Task Timer: 3hrs remaining.]
'Oh. Right. Forgot about that.'
He sat up slowly, blinking against the dim light.
And realized he wasn't alone.
Across the room, seated at the shared desk, was a boy in a neatly pressed blue uniform.
He wore rectangular glasses that caught the faint glow of the lighting rune, reflecting it back in sharp, precise angles.
His posture was perfect—back straight, shoulders squared, hands moving with careful, deliberate precision as he polished a set of crystalline lenses.
The movements were almost surgical. Methodical. Like he was performing some sacred ritual rather than simple maintenance.
The boy didn't look up.
"You sleep quite a lot for someone on the path of Knighthood," he said, his voice calm and measured, still facing forward.
Kael blinked.
"...Huh?"
The boy paused.
Placed the lenses carefully into a lined case. Closed it with a soft click.
Then he turned.
His expression was unreadable. Calm. Focused. A complete lack of warmth, but also no hostility.
Just… neutrality, carved into human form.
"Theo," he said simply. "Your roommate."
He gave a short, professional nod—the kind you'd give a business associate.
Kael stared at him for a moment.
Then raised a hand in a lazy half-wave.
"Ohh. Kael. Uhm… nice to meet you, I guess."
And then he remembered.
The system's ridiculous task.
Smile at three strangers.
He forced his face into what he hoped resembled a smile, feeling his facial muscles protest the unfamiliar motion. It felt wrong. Stiff. Like his face had forgotten how smiling worked.
[Subtask Progress: 1/3.]
Theo studied him for a second.
His eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses—not in suspicion, but in observation.
Then he turned back to his desk without comment.
Silence settled over the room.
Kael's stomach growled again, louder this time, breaking the quiet like a dying animal.
He winced.
"So, uh…" He scratched the back of his neck. "Know where I can get some food?"
Theo didn't turn around. "You missed the evening meal. The dining hall opens again at dawn."
He glanced at the time-rune etched into his wrist bracer—a faint, glowing circle of script that pulsed softly against his skin.
"Approximately twelve hours."
Kael's face twisted in disbelief.
"Twelve hours?"
He fell back onto the bed like he'd been shot, arms splayed out dramatically.
"Nooooo…"
From behind him, Theo's voice was steady. Almost clinical.
"I assumed this might happen, based on how long you were asleep."
Kael lifted his head, squinting over his shoulder.
Theo stood, holding a folded cloth in both hands.
He crossed the room with quiet, measured steps and placed it on the edge of Kael's bed.
Inside the cloth was a lightly wrapped bundle—bread wrap filled with roasted meat and glowing redroot, still faintly warm. The smell hit Kael immediately: savory, rich, with a faint herbal sweetness that made his mouth water.
"I brought you a spare serving from the canteen," Theo said, his tone unchanged. "It's high in mana retention and digestibility. Eat it before it cools."
Kael stared at the food.
Then at Theo.
Then back at the food.
His brain struggled to process what was happening.
This guy—this stranger he'd met literally two minutes ago—had just… brought him food?
Unprompted?
Without being asked?
Who does that?
"...Theo," Kael said slowly, sitting up and cradling the bundle like it was sacred. "I think we might end up being best friends."
Theo paused.
His calm demeanor didn't waver, but there was a faint shift in his expression—barely noticeable, like a ripple on still water.
"That would be statistically unlikely."
Kael blinked.
"...Right."
Theo adjusted his glasses, the motion smooth and practiced.
He returned to his desk, sat down, and opened a leather-bound book without another word.
Kael watched him for a moment longer.
Then unwrapped the food and took a bite.
The bread was warm. The meat was tender. The redroot had a faint, pleasant heat that spread through his chest like liquid fire.
It was good.
Really good.
He chewed slowly, savoring it, and glanced at Theo's back.
Weird guy.
But...
Not bad weird.
◆ ◆ ◆
What Kael didn't know—what he couldn't know—was that across the room, Theo's hand had frozen mid-turn on the page of his book.
His eyes weren't reading.
They were staring.
Staring at nothing.
Because when he'd turned to face Kael for the first time, he'd done what he always did.
He'd looked.
His ability—his curse—activated instinctively, without thought. A reflex honed over eighteen years of seeing things no one else could.
He'd looked into Kael's soul.
And what he'd seen had stopped him cold.
Nothing.
Not corruption. Not purity. Not light or darkness or desire or fear.
Just… nothing.
An emptiness so complete it shouldn't have been possible.
Like staring into a void where a person should be.
Theo's breath had caught in his throat.
His heartbeat had stuttered.
Because in eighteen years of using his ability—of seeing the twisted, corrupted souls of nearly every person he'd ever met—he had never, never seen someone with nothing inside them.
Even his mother, the only pure soul he'd ever known, had something. A light. A warmth. A spark that defined her.
But Kael?
Kael was empty.
And yet… he was alive.
Breathing. Moving. Speaking.
How?
Theo's fingers tightened slightly on the edge of his book.
His mind raced, cataloging, analyzing, questioning.
What is he?
What happened to him?
How is someone like this even possible?
He forced himself to turn the page.
To pretend he was reading.
But his thoughts were elsewhere.
On the boy sitting across the room, eating food without a care in the world.
◆ ◆ ◆
Kael finished the last bite of the wrap and sighed contentedly, leaning back against the wall.
His stomach had finally stopped its rebellion.
The screen flickered again.
[Subtask Progress: 1/3.]
[Time Remaining: 2hrs 47mins.]
He groaned internally.
'Right. Still gotta smile at two more people.'
He glanced at Theo, who was still reading—or pretending to read—at his desk.
"Hey, Theo."
"Mm."
"You seem like the kind of guy who knows things."
Theo didn't look up. "That's vague."
"What happens if we fail the entrance exam?"
There was a pause.
Then Theo closed his book and turned slightly, his expression unreadable.
"You're sent home. No exceptions. The academy doesn't keep failures."
"Cool. Cool." Kael nodded slowly. "And what happens if we, uh… really fail? Like, catastrophically?"
Theo's eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses.
"Why do you ask?"
Kael shrugged. "Just curious."
Another pause.
"Injury is common. Death… less so, but not unheard of."
"Neat."
Theo studied him for a long moment.
"You don't seem concerned."
"Should I be?"
"Most people are."
Kael scratched his neck. "Yeah, well. Most people care about things."
Theo's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes.
He turned back to his book without another word.
Kael lay back down, staring at the ceiling.
The lighting rune flickered above him, casting uneven shadows across the stone.
He closed his eyes.
'At least the food's decent.'