The cloak smelled like mothballs and disappointment.
Ryan clutched it around himself as the mage girl—who still hadn't introduced herself—led him through a series of increasingly elaborate corridors. Marble everywhere. Glowing crystals in sconces. Portraits of stern-looking wizards whose eyes seemed to follow them judgmentally.
"So," Ryan ventured, breaking the awkward silence. "Do I get pants at some point, or is this a permanent situation?"
"There's a storage room near my quarters," she muttered. "We'll find you something."
Her shoulders were hunched, her pace quick and purposeful. Like she was trying to get him somewhere private before anyone saw them. That seemed like a bad sign.
"I'm Ryan, by the way. Ryan Chen. Since we're apparently magically bound now or whatever."
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Elise Thornwood. Third-year Summoning student." She paused. "Well. Probably former third-year, after this disaster."
"That bad?"
"That bad."
They turned a corner and nearly collided with a boy in similar robes—deep blue with gold trim. He had the kind of perfectly sculpted face that suggested either noble breeding or a very generous artist. Probably both.
"Elise!" His voice was smooth, confident, insufferable. "How did your summoning practical go? Did you finally manage to call forth something worthwhile, or did you—" His eyes landed on Ryan. Specifically, on Ryan's bare legs sticking out from under the too-short cloak. "What in the seven hells is that?"
"None of your business, Marcus." Elise tried to push past him, but Marcus smoothly sidestepped to block their path.
"Is that your familiar? Please tell me that's not your familiar." Marcus leaned forward, studying Ryan like he was a particularly unimpressive insect. "It's human. You summoned a human?"
"Move, Marcus."
"Oh, this is perfect." Marcus's grin was sharp enough to cut glass. "Elise Thornwood, the girl who can't summon her way out of a paper bag, manages to botch even the most basic practical exam. What did the ritual give you, E-rank? F-rank?"
Something flashed across Elise's face—hurt, quickly masked by anger. "We're leaving."
But Marcus wasn't done. He circled around Ryan, still grinning. "Can it even use magic? It looks like it can barely walk straight." He reached out as if to poke Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan's hand shot out and caught Marcus's wrist.
The movement surprised everyone, including Ryan. He hadn't even thought about it—his body had just moved. Marcus's wrist felt fragile in his grip, and for a moment, Ryan saw something flicker in the other boy's eyes. Surprise. Maybe even a hint of fear.
"Don't touch me," Ryan said quietly.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then Marcus yanked his hand back, his face flushing. "How dare you—you're just a familiar, a tool—"
"Marcus." A new voice, cold and authoritative, echoed down the hallway. "Is there a problem?"
An older woman in elaborate crimson robes swept toward them, her gray hair pulled back in an intricate braid. She radiated the kind of power that made the air feel heavy. Ryan instinctively stepped back.
Marcus immediately straightened, his sneering expression replaced with something more carefully neutral. "Professor Aldmere. No problem. I was just... welcoming Thornwood's new familiar."
Professor Aldmere's gaze swept over their group, lingering on Ryan for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Miss Thornwood. Report to my office in one hour. Clothed familiar optional but preferred."
"Yes, Professor," Elise said quietly.
The professor swept past them without another word. Marcus shot Elise a mocking salute and sauntered off in the opposite direction, whistling.
Ryan waited until they were both out of earshot. "So. That seemed bad."
"Everything about this is bad." Elise resumed walking, faster now. "The summoning practical is the most important exam of third year. Your familiar determines your rank, your future assignments, your entire career as a summoner. Legendary beasts? S-rank, guaranteed positions in the Royal Guard or private employment with noble houses. Even a decent elemental or spirit beast can get you B or C-rank, respectable guild work."
"And a human?"
"There's never been a human familiar. Not in recorded history." She turned down another corridor, this one less grand—the servants' quarters, maybe. "The ritual ranks familiars by their magical potential and combat capability. You're probably..."
She trailed off, but Ryan could fill in the blank. "The lowest possible rank."
"Yeah."
They reached a plain wooden door. Elise unlocked it with a word—actual magic, Ryan's brain helpfully noted—and ushered him inside.
The room was small but tidy. A narrow bed, a desk covered in books and papers, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking what looked like a training yard. Practical. Lived-in. The walls were bare except for a single shelf holding a handful of small figurines—summoned creatures, Ryan guessed.
Elise went straight to the wardrobe and started pulling out clothes. "These were my brother's. He was about your size before he..." She stopped. "Anyway. They should fit."
Ryan accepted the bundle of clothing gratefully. Pants. A shirt. Underwear, thank god. "Your brother was a student here?"
"Is. He's off on a contract with the Silvermoon Company. He summoned a Thunderwing Drake in his second year." There was pride in her voice, but also something else. Sadness? Envy? "He's S-rank. The family's very proud."
Ryan stepped behind a privacy screen in the corner and quickly changed. The clothes fit reasonably well, if a bit loose. He emerged feeling significantly more human and significantly less like a medieval flasher.
"So," he said. "What happens now? To you, I mean. If I'm... if this summoning is a disaster."
Elise sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her hands. "Best case? They let me retake the practical next year. I lose a year, become the laughingstock of the Academy, but eventually graduate with a low rank and take whatever scraps of work I can find."
"And worst case?"
"They expel me. The Thornwood family disowns me for bringing shame to the name. I end up working in some tavern or shop, trying to forget I ever dreamed of being a summoner." She looked up at him, and for the first time, he saw how young she really was. How scared. "My whole life, I've wanted this. I've studied, practiced, worked harder than anyone. But my magical affinity is weak. Every summoning I've done has been mediocre at best. This was supposed to be my chance to prove I could do it, that I belonged here."
Ryan sat down in the desk chair, feeling the weight of her words. He'd been so focused on his own situation—the death, the teleportation, the nakedness—that he hadn't really considered what this meant for her.
"Hey," he said. "We'll figure something out. Maybe I have some hidden power or—"
A window appeared in front of his face.
Ryan yelped and fell backward, the chair tipping dangerously before he caught himself. The window—no, it was more like a translucent screen, floating in midair with glowing text—followed his movement, staying centered in his vision.
[GACHA GOD SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
[Welcome, Chosen Summoner]
[Integration Complete]
"What the—" Ryan reached out to touch it. His hand passed through the screen, but he could feel something, a tingle of energy. "Elise, are you seeing this?"
"Seeing what?" She was on her feet now, looking alarmed.
"The floating screen! The text! It's right—" He stopped. She couldn't see it. This was just for him.
More text appeared:
[You have been granted the GACHA GOD SYSTEM]
[As the Weakest Summoner, you have been given a second chance]
[Summon legendary warriors. Build your harem. Conquer this world.]
[Current Rank: F (Weakest)]
[Summon Tokens: 1]
[Would you like to perform your first summon?]
Ryan stared at the screen, his mind reeling. A system. A game system. Just like the gacha games he'd wasted so much money on back home. Except this was real. This was actually happening.
He looked at Elise, who was watching him with growing concern.
"I think," Ryan thought internally, "things just got interesting."