I saved the world.
And I died carrying the thought that my job was finished.
Only to be resurrected by a group of cultists 600 years later.
It wasn't really my intention to trauma dump this early, but what else can I talk about while lying on my bed in darkness? Or would you rather hear a joke?
Knock knock.
I glance at the door, light seeping into my so-called comfort place. Whoever is on the other side, I hope they give up soon enough because I don't feel like meeting anyone today. Or any other day.
Knock knock.
Actually, never mind. I know who's banging on my door. Only one person would be this persistent. And ignoring her is not an option because she won't stop until she reduces the wooden door to splinters. Or ashes, because I can already feel the heat radiating from the outside.
So I stretch my body and yawn multiple times before I open the door, inviting the light in.
Standing in front of me is a girl with long amber hair, her instructor uniform neat and crisp. The tailored jacket, embroidered subtly with the academy's crest, fits perfectly over her frame, paired with polished boots and a practical skirt that speaks of authority. Her fiery eyes glare through her round glasses, fixed firmly on me.
"Yo, Orianna," I wave lazily.
Her frown deepens, and she crosses her arms. "You missed the meeting."
I forgot to mention that I am also an instructor at an academy called Hero's Academy. Somehow.
Seeing Orianna become more impatient, I reply, "Uh, yeah, I kind of missed it."
"You completely did."
"It was just too far away."
"The meeting room is upstairs," she points up at the ceiling, "Have you forgotten you've been at the academy building all this time, Mister Eclipse?"
I glance around the hallway and then at the bed. Right, this isn't my house; it's my office.
"All of my rooms look pretty much the same," is my excuse.
"Maybe because you never turn on the light," she says.
She gives me a once-over, her gaze traveling from my dark brown hair and eyes to the black robe flowing down my body. Her expression twists as if trying to reconcile a puzzle she's been staring at for too long.
Maybe I should give her a smile or something. Should I do it now? Or would it be too much effort on my part?
Orianna sighs, shaking her head. "No matter how much I try to see it, I just can't."
I look down at myself. "What are you trying to see?"
"The hero," she lowers her voice.
I am surprised that she felt so disappointed. Didn't the hero die centuries ago? Why are you looking for him in me?
Without waiting for my response, Orianna grabs my arm and drags me out of my office. Her grip is firm and resolute, and it would be an asshole move for me to refuse her. She's taking me to the academy park, and I'd describe the setting for you.
But I'm too tired to bother right now.
Just know that the park is vibrant with greens. And at the heart of it all stands a massive tree that I met when I was a child.
Orianna doesn't share the same thought as me, though. Obviously, this place isn't hollow and void to her, seeing her small face brighten as she steps into the sunlight.
"Why did you bring me here, Orianna?"
She keeps her eyes on the tree. "First, to get you out of the shallow place you call your office."
It wasn't that shallow—I put a painting there recently. I forgot what it was, but I think it was a really cool move on my part.
She continues, "And second, to update you on some news."
She launches into an update about the state of the world. Apparently, there have been sightings of demon activity around the Verilia Kingdom, and people are getting antsy. Back in my era, demon sightings were as common as shadows under a blood-red moon—haunting, inevitable, and laced with the promise of suffering. Lots of pain and crying. Thankfully, I managed to put an end to most of it. Or so I thought.
"Seems scary," I say. "Thankfully, there are a lot of strong heroes nowadays to maintain the peace."
"If I asked you to join us to fight them off, would you?"
I smile. "I probably wouldn't be much help."
To that, I show her my wrist. As the dark cloth falls from my arm, it reveals the chains around both of my wrists.
She puckers her lips. "I thought you would have done something about them by now. Damn those cultists."
Orianna clears her throat a few times as if to reconcile her disappointment. "And one last thing, the board sent me to give you this message. It's about your teaching responsibilities."
Ah, here it comes.
"Most of your students decided not to stay with you."
"Uh-huh."
"Mister Eclipse," she stops and looks at me sternly, "since you started working as an instructor, no student has ever wanted to stay with you."
I look away. "I guess they just don't like me."
She sighs heavily. "And the fact that you're still hiding your true identity from the world isn't helping. Most students think you're a nobody. Doesn't that bother you?"
"No."
I've had my fill of praise. I think I've earned a break.
"Should I quit, then?"
Orianna stiffens, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. "Y-you know what will happen if you do."
I sigh, giving up the fleeting thought of freedom.
"But Mister Eclipse, the academy hasn't given up on you as an instructor."
Impressive faith in the only instructor who's both studentless and uses his office as a bedroom.
"That's why they've given you a special task."
"What is it?"
"A student."
"You know how that'll turn out."
She shakes her head. "This one is different. Special."
"Can she turn me into a bird?"
"I… don't think so."
"Then I won't find her special."
Orianna exhales loudly. "It's probably better if you meet her instead of me explaining."
"When is she coming?"
"Tomorrow."
"Good. I'll sleep until then."
As I turn back toward my office, I sense a sinister smile behind me. "Anything else, Orianna?"
"Not really. Just… I think your life will drastically change starting tomorrow."
I've beaten the demon lord who terrorized all the races, uniting kingdoms and carving a fragile peace from the chaos. Back then, the air was thick with fear, and hope felt like a distant memory. But now? Those days feel like a dream long faded. I doubt anything can surprise me anymore.
Or change.