It was already growing dark, yet the boys were still struggling with the simplest task they had been given—folding their blankets.
Beds lined the room in neat rows, identical in size and distance, as if designed to erase individuality. Instructions had been pinned to the wall hours ago, showing a perfectly folded blanket with sharp edges and flawless symmetry.
In theory, it looked simple.
In practice, it was a quiet battlefield.
"Arghhhhhh! I'm done! I'm finished with this!"
Fenrir finally snapped.
He clutched his hair with both hands and stared at the disaster on his bed—a tangled mess of fabric that barely resembled a blanket anymore.
He had spent more than an hour following the instructions step by step, yet every attempt ended the same way.
A crumpled failure.
"I swear this thing hates me," he growled, glaring at the blanket as if it were alive.
"Hah…" Kairos let out a tired breath from the bed nearby.
"At this point, all we can do is accept it and try to make it look as close to the picture as possible."
His own blanket wasn't perfect, but it was at least rectangular. He carefully adjusted one corner, pressing it flat with almost obsessive focus.
Beside him, Soren crouched low, his eyes level with the mattress, staring intensely at the edges as if measuring them with invisible lines.
"Straight… just a little more…" Soren muttered, tugging the fabric by a few millimeters.
Among them, only three had already finished.
Kael, Ash, and Leo.
Kael stood apart naturally. Coming from a long line of knights, discipline and order were engraved into him from childhood. Folding a blanket with military precision was almost instinctive.
Leo, on the other hand, seemed to understand the instructions after a single glance. He folded his blanket cleanly, efficiently, as if following a blueprint stored in his mind.
Ash finished quietly.
He had grown up in hardship, where daily survival demanded patience and effort. Tasks like this—simple, repetitive, requiring care—were nothing new to him. He didn't rush, didn't hesitate. When he was done, his blanket looked no different from the example on the wall.
Now, he sat on his bed, silently watching the remaining three struggle.
Seeing this, Kael finally spoke.
"I'll help."
He walked over to Soren and calmly demonstrated the correct grip, explaining where to apply pressure and how to align the edges. Leo followed suit, stepping toward Kairos to offer assistance.
Kairos's face immediately brightened.
"Thank you, Leo. You've just saved me from a slow and painful death," he said with dramatic relief.
Ash observed the scene.
People helping each other. No mocking. No impatience. Just quiet cooperation.
A faint thought crossed his mind.
'Maybe this class isn't as distant as I thought.'
Still, years of hardship had shaped Ash into someone reserved, cautious, and emotionally distant. Approaching others casually didn't come naturally to him.
Words often felt unnecessary—or dangerous.
Watching Kairos laugh so easily, openly sharing his frustration, Ash felt something unfamiliar stir inside him.
A small trace of envy.
'Maybe… I should change, he thought. I'm not that kid crawling through the mud of Ash Area anymore.'
But how?
As if answering his own question, Ash turned his head slightly to the right.
Fenrir was still wrestling with his blanket.
Ash stood up silently and stepped off his bed, walking toward Fenrir's.
The moment Fenrir noticed him approaching, he froze.
His instincts screamed.
Without thinking, Fenrir jumped onto his bed, muscles tensed, eyes locked onto Ash.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?" Fenrir demanded.
He didn't know why, but just looking at Ash triggered a deep, primal warning inside him. His predator instincts—sharpened through countless battles—were going wild.
This wasn't fear of death.
It was worse.
A sense of emptiness.
A void where danger usually existed.
It chilled him to the bone.
Fenrir had faced a Semi-Predator before, yet the feeling Ash gave off was somehow more unsettling. Even Professor Karl, an Ascendant, had never caused this kind of reaction.
Ash felt… blank.
And that terrified Fenrir.
His pride shook violently. He couldn't accept that someone who looked so ordinary could make him feel so helpless.
Fenrir's raised voice drew attention.
The others turned to look, their expressions tightening with concern. Kael subtly shifted his stance, ready to intervene if necessary.
All eyes were on Ash.
Ash felt nothing.
He continued walking until he reached Fenrir's bed.
He reached out—
Fenrir immediately raised his arms into a defensive position.
But nothing happened.
Ash simply picked up Fenrir's blanket.
In a calm, flat voice, he said,
"Let me help."
"…Huh?"
Fenrir blinked.
Before he could process what was happening, Ash had already folded the blanket—cleanly, precisely, every edge aligned. It was done in seconds.
Ash placed it back on the bed.
"There," he said. "I've folded it for you. Just do it the same way next time."
"I... uh... thanks," Fenrir stammered, his ferocity evaporating into pure bewilderment.
Ash turned around.
He noticed everyone staring at him again.
He tilted his head slightly, confused.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"N-No, nothing," Kairos replied quickly.
"Then hurry up and finish," Ash said.
"It's almost 5:30. That's dinner time."
With that, he returned to his bed and lay down, completely unaware of the strange atmosphere he had just created—or perhaps simply unable to read it.
Kael gave Ash a long, thoughtful look, but said nothing, continuing to help Kairos instead.
…
At exactly 5:30 PM, everyone stood up and left the room together.
"Let's go," Ash said, naturally taking the lead.
Across the hallway was another door.
A sign read: Female Dormitory – Class 001.
The first to step out was Isolde, followed by the other girls. Five in total.
Isolde's gaze locked onto Ash immediately.
He ignored her and walked straight toward the teleportation gate.
A flicker of irritation crossed her face.
Kael stepped out next. Upon seeing Isolde, he placed his right hand over his chest in a formal greeting. The others followed.
Isolde sighed softly and turned back toward her room.
"Come on," she said.
"Let's go, girls."
…
The teleportation gate delivered them to a massive dining area—a shared cafeteria for all classes within the tower.
Rows of tables stretched across the hall, each assigned to a different class. Students moved about with trays full of food, the space filled with low conversation.
Following the guidance from their wrist devices, Ash led them to the food dispensers.
"What are we eating?" Kairos asked.
"There are many options," Kael replied. "But you can only take one meal per session. Your watch records your choice."
"That's a shame," Kairos sighed. "I thought I could eat as much as I wanted."
"You can always buy more."
Ash chose a simple meal—rice, fried meat, and vegetables. Balanced. Practical.
At the Class 001 table, everyone had their own tray.
Most chose similar meals, except Kairos and Soren, who went for hamburgers and fries, and Fenrir, whose plate was nothing but meat.
The circular table seated eleven.
Ash sat between Kael and Isolde.
As they ate, whispers drifted through the air.
"That's Class 001? Only eleven people?"
"With numbers like that, they might all die before graduation."
"I heard the Adler heiress is there… and Kael from House Vance."
"So what? Isolde's mother died giving birth, and she was only the third wife. She's nothing more than a political tool."
"And the Vance house? It's a crumbling ruin. Kael is the only one left with a Core. They're desperate."
"Who's the guy in the middle, between them? The one with the gray eyes?"
"Probably some nobody from a dying district. He looks like a ghost."
Ash heard it all.
He didn't care about what was said about him. Coming from Ash Area, he was used to being looked down on.
But seeing the others… their hands slowing, expressions dimming…
That made his chest feel heavy.
Fenrir stopped eating with his usual gusto. Kairos and Soren, usually the life of the party, stared down at their food, their faces darkening.
Isolde and Kael sat with their heads bowed, the confidence they had worn in the classroom shattered by the cruel accuracy of the rumors.
The meal ended in silence.
…
By 6:15 PM.
They back in the dormitory, the air was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Fenrir climbed into bed without a word, turning his back to the room. The others followed suit, the usual banter replaced by a hollow quiet.
Fenrir collapsed onto his bed immediately.
The others followed.
Lights went out early.
Let the room into dark.