The light that slipped into my luxurious suite this morning didn't carry the same cold harshness of the "secure facility."
It was softer… or maybe I was just starting to get used to the idea that freedom in this world was nothing more than an illusion—with varying degrees of discomfort.
"Ring—ring—ring!!"
I woke up to the faint electronic alarm of my Cardinal device, which—surprisingly—was no longer just an overpriced wristwatch showing the time. It had regained access to basic notifications related to my academic schedule.
Well, would you look at that, I thought as I sat on the edge of the bed, my muscles still aching with the lingering memory of the evaluation training I had endured.
Training that would no doubt return soon… under the supervision of my new "warden."
They've given me back some privileges. Does that mean I'm no longer 'the threat'? Or are they just trying to make me comfortable before throwing me into the next hell?
There was no strict morning message from Professor Phoenix waiting at my door. She wasn't standing in the hallway like an icy statue when I stepped out of my suite.
That, at least, was a positive change… or maybe just the calm before the storm.
I headed toward the cafeteria, feeling like every step I took was under a microscope—even without Aurora Phoenix physically walking behind me.
My distorted "legend," which had clearly spread like a virus among Class Alpha students, was more than enough to turn my presence into an event.
And sure enough, the moment I stepped into the noisy cafeteria, a sudden wave of silence swept through the room—followed by hushed whispers and prying stares.
Like some rare, exotic animal had just wandered into a chicken coop.
Fantastic, I thought as I moved toward the food line, trying to ignore the eyes tracking me like searchlights.
Looks like I've become the talk of the town… or at least the talk of this cafeteria that serves what looks like failed science experiments.
With Phoenix nowhere in sight, the students felt freer to whisper.
Some stared openly with curiosity.
Others with suspicion.
A few—probably drama lovers or people with overactive imaginations—looked at me with something resembling admiration… mixed with fear.
"Is that him? The student who survived that horror gate?"
"I heard he challenged an A-rank monster to a card game!"
"They say he's insane—that he sacrificed his teammates without hesitation!"
"No, no, I heard he's some kind of hidden genius—the clown was begging him to stop!"
The whispers buzzed in my ears like annoying mosquitoes.
What a delightful variety of theories, I thought dryly.
As usual, the truth is far more pathetic—and far less entertaining—than any of these heroic or villainous fantasies.
When I reached the serving counter, the cafeteria worker gave me a longer look than usual.
I just ordered my usual portion of questionable "bio-fuel," grabbed my tray, and searched for the most isolated table possible.
I spotted Maya Horthon sitting with two other girls.
For a brief moment, our eyes met.
Her eyes widened slightly—confusion? fear?—before she quickly looked away and resumed whispering with her friends.
Yeah… figures, I thought. Traitor.
Rex Barnes was sitting at another table with a group of physically imposing students. When he saw me, his face hardened, and he shot me an openly hostile glare—like he was daring me to come closer.
Relax, my friend, I muttered internally.
I have no intention of interrupting your testosterone summit.
Ethan Riddle—our golden boy—was, as usual, surrounded by admirers. He gave me a quick glance and tried to offer a friendly smile… but it looked a bit strained, like he wasn't quite sure how to deal with me anymore.
Drake Mallory, on the other hand, observed everything from his isolated table. No smile. Just quiet analysis.
Serena Valerian, Leo von Falkenhayn, Isabella de Luna, and Kai Morgenstern were seated together.
Serena's eyes carried that sharp, probing look, trying to understand everything.
Leo remained serious and reserved.
Izzy wore an amused smile, as if she had just found a new and interesting game.
And Kai… was just Kai—watching silently from the shadows, his gray eyes revealing nothing.
I sat alone and started eating my breakfast under a barrage of stares and whispers.
It felt like eating in a zoo.
And I was the main attraction.
At least Aurora Phoenix isn't sitting across from me watching me chew, I thought, searching for any positive angle in this ridiculous situation.
Small step toward normal life… or at least a less directly annoying version of hell.
But I knew this fragile calm wouldn't last.
The "guardianship" was still in effect.
The "special training" was waiting.
And the entire academy now saw me as something… different.
Something strange.
Something unpredictable.
Well… I guess that's not so bad, a faint smile formed on my lips as I took a bite of scrambled eggs that still tasted suspiciously like damp cardboard.
In a world full of monsters and so-called heroes… being unpredictable might just be your best weapon for survival.
After breakfast—during which I felt like the featured dish on Class Alpha's gossip menu—I headed toward the outdoor training grounds, expecting a normal schedule… or maybe another boring lecture.
But my Cardinal device suddenly vibrated.
[Aurora Phoenix: Lister. To my office immediately. Do not be late.]
Of course.
Such warmth and kindness, I thought sarcastically as I changed direction toward the main administrative building.
I wonder if the word "please" exists in her vocabulary… or if it's some rare skill she hasn't unlocked yet.
Professor Phoenix's office was… exactly what I expected.
Cold. Perfectly organized. Completely devoid of any personal touch that might suggest an actual human being worked there.
Pale gray walls. Simple, functional metal furniture. A large holographic display currently showing a complex gate structure.
The only scent in the room was faint ozone and sterile cold air.
She sat behind her polished metal desk, hands clasped, silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a frozen waterfall.
Her ruby eyes locked onto me with the same sharp focus I'd seen in the interrogation room—like she was still trying to determine whether I was a hidden genius… or just a nuisance.
"You are two minutes late, Lister," she said coldly, not even glancing at the time.
"Efficiency is the key to survival in this world. Punctuality is the simplest form of efficiency."
Oh great, are you going to charge me for every second I breathe incorrectly too? I thought.
But I just said,
"My apologies, Professor… it seems my internal navigation system is still recovering from… recent events."
She didn't react.
"Sit."
She gestured to the single chair in front of her desk—clearly designed to be as uncomfortable as possible.
I sat, trying to look calm and relaxed, like this was a friendly visit to an overly strict principal's office.
"Since you are now under my direct 'supervision,' Lister," she began sharply,
"there are rules and arrangements you must fully understand. Ignoring them will not be in your best interest."
Rules? Wonderful. I love rules… especially when they're enforced by someone who looks like they enjoy human suffering.
I kept a polite smile.
"First," she raised a slender finger,
"you will report all movements outside your approved schedule. Library visits, walks in the garden—even unusually frequent restroom trips. I want to know everything."
"Any unjustified deviation from your routine will be considered suspicious behavior. This includes leaving the academy."
Are you serious?
Do I need permission to go to the bathroom now? What is this—Guantanamo for gifted teenagers?
"Second," she continued, unfazed,
"any strange, unjustified, or excessively sarcastic behavior—as you seem inclined toward—will be investigated immediately."
"I am not here to enjoy your jokes or your attempts at wit, Lister. I am here to ensure you are not a danger—to yourself or others."
"Third," her eyes narrowed slightly,
"you will not participate in any gate missions—training or real—without my explicit approval."
"Your participation will be decided solely by my evaluation—not your 'ridiculous luck' or your 'desperate improvisations.'"
"Fourth," her tone sharpened further,
"I will conduct periodic performance evaluations. This includes additional training, tests, and possibly 'special scenarios' designed by me to ensure you are not hiding any… unpleasant surprises."
Special scenarios?
Does that mean more clowns and masks? Wonderful.
"And finally, Lister," she leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing like ice,
"outside of official training and missions, I expect you to behave like a normal, responsible student."
Her voice turned colder.
"But do not assume for a moment that I will not be aware of your actions."
"This academy has eyes and ears everywhere. Any behavior that exceeds the bounds of a 'normal student'… will reach me immediately."
"And there will be consequences."
"Is that clear?"
I looked at her, trying to appear serious and compliant.
"Perfectly clear, Professor," I said with an innocent smile.
"As clear as a piece of ice on a winter night. But I do have a small question—if I may."
She raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Regarding your definition of a 'normal, responsible student,'" I said slowly,
"is there an official handbook I can consult?"
"I'm afraid my personal understanding of 'normal' might… differ slightly from the academy's standards."
"And I'd hate to cause unnecessary trouble due to a simple misunderstanding."
I saw the corner of her lips twitch again—that strange micro-expression, like a suppressed outburst… or a laugh she refused to allow.
"Do not play the fool, Lister," she said coldly.
"You know exactly what I mean."
"Any attempt to test these rules—or my patience—will not end well for you."
She stood, signaling the end of the meeting.
"Your 'special training' schedule with me begins this afternoon."
"Training Field Seven. 14:00 sharp."
"Do not be late… again."
Without another word, she gestured toward the door like she was dismissing an annoying insect.
I left her office feeling like I needed a strong cup of coffee…
—or something much stronger.
Aurora Phoenix's "guardianship" wasn't supervision.
It was a declaration of a cold war.
And unfortunately…
I was on the losing side.
The side that listens… and says, "Yes, ma'am."
Training Field Seven. Two o'clock…
I sighed as I walked through the halls.
This is going to be a real pain…