"Wakey, wakey, Danny Darnell," a soft, almost melodic voice said.
Looks like his ass is finally awake, huh? I thought, hoping he didn't manage to embarrass me again. As Cal blinked his eyes open, he found himself face-to-face with a stunning woman. She had red eyes, pale skin, and white hair swept into a loose side braid, framing her face perfectly.
"Got yourself roughed up, Mr. Darnell, I see," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone.
Cal's face twisted, clearly a little embarrassed. "He sucker-punched me," he muttered, trying to save face.
But then, as he looked at her, I felt a wave of… oh, for god's sake, was that lov—
For fuck's sake, Cal. Seriously?
"I can't help it, Danny," he replied, not even trying to hide it. "She's fine as hell."
Rolling my metaphorical eyes, I figured I'd do him a favor. I sighed. "Cal, look down, dumbass."
"What are you tal—ahhhh!" he screeched, recoiling in horror.
See, this "perfectly normal lady" happened to be an arachne. Her lower half was full-on spider, eight legs and all, and Cal's oblivious ass hadn't even noticed despite her standing directly in front of him.
"Is everything all right, Mr. Darnell?" she asked, a smile creeping into her voice. "That landing must've left you with some slight memory issues."
"I… I'm good, ma'am," he managed to stammer, but his voice was trembling, and he was practically frozen in place. He looked like someone had a gun to his head.
"What happened to Casanova, Cal?" I chimed in, unable to resist mocking him. "Thought you were 'that guy.'"
"If we weren't sharing a body," he muttered through gritted teeth, "I'd rip your soul out of your body myself."
I just laughed, enjoying every second of it.
Cal cleared his throat again, visibly struggling to keep his composure. "Uh… right. So… where, uh, would I go to get my schedule?" he asked, trying to sound casual but still sounding like he'd just seen a ghost.
Nurse Elara raised an eyebrow, her amusement obvious. "Your schedule? You'll want to head to the main administration office for that. It's just across the quad, you'll see a large brick building with a blue banner above the entrance."
"Right, the… uh, big brick building," he muttered, nodding, trying to keep his gaze focused firmly on her face and not on her lower half.
She smiled again, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "If you start feeling dizzy, please don't hesitate to return here. You're still recovering, after all."
"Oh, uh… yeah. Sure. Thanks," he stammered, desperately wanting to escape the situation.
I was laughing in his head, not holding back. *"What happened to that confidence, Cal?"*
"Shut it," he muttered under his breath, standing up and making his way toward the door as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a run.
As Cal made his way out of the infirmary, it was immediately clear he was still feeling the effects of his little "adventure" with the ogre. He was wobbling, trying to look steady but obviously struggling with every step. I could practically feel him trying to keep his dignity intact, which only made it funnier.
"Having trouble, Cal?" I asked, barely containing my laughter.
"Laugh it up," he muttered, his voice tense. "It's your body that got tossed across the plaza, remember?"
"Yeah, but it's your dumbass that got us thrown in the first place," I shot back, smirking in the back of his mind.
After what probably felt like an eternity for him, he finally reached the administration building. It was an imposing, ten-story brick structure with large, arched windows and a blue banner hanging proudly above the entrance, reading Confluence Institute Administration. Cal tilted his head back, taking in the height of it.
"Big enough for you?" I teased. "Bet you're loving this 'high school' experience."
"Remind me why I came to this damn place again," he grumbled, taking a steadying breath before walking inside, trying his best not to look like he was about to topple over.
Cal approached the towering glass doors, managing to steady himself just long enough to pull them open. Inside, the main hall was sleek and polished, with marble floors and a high ceiling that added to the whole "institutional grandeur" vibe. He made his way up to the front desk, and as he looked up at the person sitting behind it, he froze.
The receptionist was… well, a mummy. Their face was almost entirely wrapped in linen bandages, with only one eye peeking out, a gleaming, intelligent eye that watched Cal with an unreadable expression. They wore a name tag that read Mr. Ahman.
"Welcome, Mr. Darnell," the mummy said in a surprisingly smooth voice. "How may I assist you today?"
Cal took a second too long to respond, clearly taken off guard. "Uh… yeah. I'm, uh, here to get my schedule?"
Mr. Ahman nodded, reaching under the desk with bandaged hands and pulling out a clipboard. "First day at Confluence Institute, I see. One moment."
"You're going to stare all day or actually speak?" I taunted him.
Cal cleared his throat, trying to mask his surprise. "Right. Just… wasn't expecting the whole 'Ancient Egypt' theme up close."
The mummy paused, his visible eye narrowing slightly. "We prefer 'Rejuvenated Egyptian.'" He handed Cal the schedule with a practiced motion.
Cal took the schedule, muttering a half-hearted "thanks," and quickly turned away, clearly trying to avoid another awkward interaction.
Cal took the schedule, muttering a half-hearted "thanks," and quickly turned away, eager to escape yet another bizarre encounter. As he walked away from the desk, he let out a sigh that was half annoyance, half disbelief.
"Everyone here is literally a fictional character," he grumbled to himself, just loud enough for me to hear in the back of his mind.
"Welcome to my life," I chimed in, relishing his frustration. "You wanted to come to this 'dungeon-lit trash heap,' remember?"
He ignored me, glancing down at the schedule in his hand. "A mummy at the front desk. An ogre, a bunch of goblins, a spider-lady nurse… This place is like a walking fantasy cliché."
"Well, it's real to the rest of us," I shot back. "Maybe try not to look at everyone like they're just characters in some story?"
He rolled his eyes, muttering, "Easy for you to say. You didn't get tossed across a plaza by a damn ogre."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, but you're the one who picked the fight, genius."
As Cal grumbled his way down the hall, I decided it was probably time to give him a little perspective.
"You do realize the academy employs all these different species on purpose, right?" I said, barely hiding my amusement. "They're literally trying to help students get used to seeing all kinds of people. Ogres, mummies, arachne because someday, as a Reader, you could end up jumping into a story where those species are the norm."
Cal scoffed. "So what, it's like 'Fantasy Creatures 101' in here? This place just gets weirder by the second."
"Yeah, maybe weird to you," I shot back, "but for us, it makes sense. If we're gonna be Readers, we can't be thrown off every time we see a different species. They're training us to treat them like anyone else."
He rolled his eyes, glancing back toward the front desk, where Mr. Ahman the mummy was patiently assisting another student. "Fine. I get it. Doesn't mean I'm thrilled about having to play nice with a whole freakin' fantasy lineup."
I chuckled. "Better get used to it, Cal. 'Cause they're not the ones who need adjusting."
Cal glanced down at the map, tracing his way to Building E, which, judging by its placement on the far side of campus, didn't seem to be the most prestigious part of the school. As he walked, I filled him in on a detail that I knew he wouldn't be thrilled about.
"Building E is for the students who, uh… how do I put this nicely? The ones who barely passed the entrance exam," I said, cringing a bit internally. "Basically, it's where they put people who might struggle just to survive their first dungeon."
"Seriously?" he scoffed, his irritation already clear. "And you're telling me you barely scraped by on the entrance exam? Great. So, we're stuck in the 'remedial adventurer' building?"
I sighed. "Yeah, look, the test wasn't exactly easy, alright? I got through it. But yes, the academy saves the top teachers and facilities for the A-level students."
"Let me guess," he muttered, "this Class A has all the best resources, top-notch instructors, and probably mentorships with guilds to help them boost up the ranks, right?"
"Exactly," I replied. "The Class A students even get guidance from the best guilds in the field. So if you actually want a shot at ranking up as a Reader, Class A is the place to be."
Cal rolled his eyes, muttering to himself. "So, basically, if I don't want to rot in this D-list pit with you, I need to claw my way to the top."
As he continued on the path to Building E, a thought crossed my mind. "Hey, Cal, by the way… do you know who the protagonist of this story is?"
"The protagonist?" he echoed with a faint scoff, like the idea barely registered for him. But after a pause, he answered, "Yeah. His name's Ken Akara. Supposed to be this golden boy, wheat-blonde hair, golden eyes, probably oozing with some tragic backstory or magical destiny. You know the type."
"So, classic 'hero in training' look?" I asked.
"More or less," he muttered. "Let me guess, he's got every advantage lined up for him, fast-tracking his way to S-Rank while we're stuck in the 'barely passing' class."
"Basically," I said. "If he's in Class A, maybe we'll cross paths with him."
Cal shrugged, though I could sense his annoyance. "Whatever. He can have his little protagonist spotlight. I'm still getting us out of this E-level pit one way or another."
The walk to Building E seemed to drag on forever, and I couldn't help but notice Cal's irritation growing with every step. The place was practically on the far edge of campus, tucked as far from the entrance as you could get. Meanwhile, Building A, the prized building for top students, sat right near the entrance, grand and imposing, like the crown jewel of the academy. It was massive, practically a campus in itself, complete with wide windows, towering walls, and even an eagle statue perched at the very top, as if silently watching over everything below.
When we finally reached Building E, Cal's face twisted in disbelief. Compared to Building A, it looked like a tiny, run-down high school, plain brick walls, faded paint, and windows that didn't quite shine the same. It was unremarkable, with none of the grandeur the main academy buildings had.
"This is it?" he muttered, sounding almost offended. "Building A gets a damn eagle statue, and we're stuck in this glorified storage shed?"
I sighed. "Well, we barely passed, remember? This is where they put people who are… let's say, 'less likely to survive the dungeons on their own.'"
He shook his head, still staring up at the plain building in front of us. "Unbelievable. That A-building looks like a fortress, and they dump us here. Barely passed or not, we don't have to stay here, right?"
"No, if you get good enough grades, you can work your way up to Class A. That's kind of the goal," I reminded him.
Cal crossed his arms, glancing back toward the grand sight of Building A near the entrance. "Well, you'd better brace yourself, Danny. I'm not about to stick around in this place any longer than I have to. That eagle statue's got our name on it."
Cal pushed open the door to the homeroom, and we immediately felt the eyes of everyone inside snap to us. We were late, no thanks to Cal's brilliant decision to take on an ogre. The room was already filled with students, all of them talking or sitting around waiting. The teacher was nowhere to be seen.
Most of the students were human, but there were a couple of elves, a dwarf, a gorgon, and… oh, no. Sitting in the back, towering over the rest, was the ogre from earlier, the same one who had effortlessly tossed Cal across the plaza.
"Great," I muttered in his head. "Guess we're going to be classroom buddies with the guy who threw you halfway across campus."
Cal straightened up, refusing to let himself look even remotely intimidated. "Doesn't matter. He's not getting another free shot," he muttered.
The ogre glanced over, locking eyes with us for a moment before letting out a low chuckle, clearly remembering our earlier 'fight.' I could practically feel Cal's pride flaring up again.
"Don't even think about it," I warned, trying to hold back my own laughter. "One concussion is enough for the day."
Cal just gritted his teeth and looked away, scanning the rest of the room. "Fine. But that overgrown troll better watch it," he muttered, making his way to an empty seat. As he sat down, the tension between us and the ogre was practically palpable. The other students kept sneaking glances our way, clearly curious about the latecomers who'd just made a scene without even trying.
I sighed. "Welcome to homeroom, Cal. Try not to throw hands this time."
A few moments later, the classroom door swung open, and in walked the teacher, a human woman with light brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. Cal's face lit up with obvious relief at seeing a human, which only reinforced the straight-up speciesist streak he was developing here. I rolled my eyes internally.
But any optimism he had vanished the moment she started speaking. Her gaze swept across the room with a look of mild disappointment, like she was already expecting most of us to fail.
"Welcome to Homeroom E," she began, her tone flat and unenthusiastic. "Let's get one thing straight: statistically, most of you won't make it far as Readers. This class exists because the Confluence Institute believes everyone deserves a shot even if, frankly, it's not likely to do you much good."
I felt Cal tense, his irritation flaring. "So, she's just betting on us to fail?" he muttered under his breath. "Nice motivational speech."
The teacher continued, clearly not sugarcoating anything. "The reality is, you're in Class E because you barely scraped by in the entrance exam. Most of you will either fail out or quit long before you set foot in a real dungeon. My job is to get you as far as possible… which, for some of you, won't be far."
The room filled with murmurs and uneasy shuffling. Cal clenched his fists, jaw set, but underneath the irritation, I could sense a familiar spark, determination.
"Oh, don't worry," he muttered to himself. "I'll get far enough just to shove those words down her throat."
I smirked, unable to resist a little sarcasm. "Guess we've got something to prove, huh?"
Ms. Talia didn't bother addressing any of us by name. She handed each student their paper in silence, her gaze briefly assessing each one of us with a look that conveyed both disinterest and expectation.
Cal glanced down at ours, his jaw tightening as he saw the number printed in bold: 299.
"Each of you has a number," Ms. Talia said, her voice carrying clearly through the room. "There are 300 of you in this building for your freshman year. By the end, we cut that number down to ten. Only ten of you will advance to the next year. Your number reflects your standing as of your entrance."
A few murmurs rippled through the room, some students exchanging nervous looks. Cal stared hard at the 299, his irritation practically radiating off him.
"We're almost at the bottom?" he muttered under his breath. "Two hundred and ninety-nine out of three hundred?"
"Guess picking a fight with an ogre didn't exactly do us any favors," I replied, unable to keep from chuckling.
Ms. Talia's gaze swept over us once more, dispassionate and unyielding. "For those of you at the lower end of the rankings," she said, "if you don't want to stay there, I suggest you work hard enough to change it. Or… get comfortable at home."
Ms. Talia scanned the room one last time, as if assessing just how many of us she expected to actually make it past freshman year. "That's all for now," she said curtly. "Dismissed. Your schedules will tell you where to go next. Try not to be late."
With that, she turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance, leaving the rest of us to pick up our things and shuffle out after her.
Cal crumpled our paper a bit, glaring at the "299" printed across it. "Almost dead last. They really don't think much of us, huh?"
I snickered in his head. "Well, we did barely scrape through the entrance exam, remember? Now we just get to prove them wrong."
Cal rolled his eyes, stuffing the paper into his bag. "Fine. But don't expect me to stay stuck in this E-level pit. Let's see where this next class actually takes us." He headed out into the hallway, determined to find our next destination, and maybe a little eager to prove Ms. Talia wrong.
Cal scowled down at the crumpled paper, then glanced at the schedule to see what class was up next. His eyes landed on the words: Homeworld History 101.
"Homeworld History?" he muttered, barely hiding his disdain. "Great. Nothing like a 'Backstory for Dummies' class to kick things off."
I couldn't resist a laugh. "Hey, maybe you'll actually learn something. Might help you stop calling everyone monsters."
He rolled his eyes, shoving the paper back into his bag. "Fine. Let's get this over with. If I have to sit through a fantasy history lesson, I might as well get it out of the way." With a determined stride, he headed down the hall, fully prepared to face whatever "fantasy nonsense" awaited him in Homeworld History 101.
As Cal turned to head down the hall, he felt a massive hand rest gently on his shoulder. He tensed, expecting another confrontation, but when he turned, he saw something almost like guilt in the ogre's expression.
The ogre cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish. "Hey… about earlier. I just wanted to say sorry. My mom's always telling me to keep my temper in check. I only said what I said back then to try to scare you off, but… well, you swung instead, and I lost control. Didn't mean to throw you that hard."
Cal blinked, caught completely off guard. "Uh… yeah. Sure. No problem," he muttered, unsure how to handle the unexpected apology.
The ogre nodded, looking down before glancing back at Cal, almost with a hint of respect. "Not many people would've actually taken that swing. So… yeah. Sorry if I took it too far."
I could feel Cal processing the whole encounter, his usual irritation fading slightly as he took in the ogre's sincerity. "Right. Well, uh… thanks, I guess. Didn't mean to swing at you either, just… maybe don't call me short."
The ogre chuckled, the deep sound almost good-natured. "Fair enough, short—" he stopped himself with a smirk. "Fair enough, Darnell. Name's Brak."
"Cal," he replied, nodding back a little awkwardly. "I'll… see you around, Brak."
With that, Brak stepped back, allowing Cal to head down the hallway. I could feel him wrestling with the whole exchange, his expression a mix of relief and surprise.
"Well, look at that," I teased, grinning in his head. "You're already making friends."
"Not friends," Cal muttered, though he sounded less certain than usual. "But… yeah. At least he's not looking to toss me again."