The bell rang for lunch break, and the classroom emptied with the usual rustling of bags, scraping chairs, and quiet chatter. But three students lingered behind—each for their own quiet reason.
Yamada Koji stayed in his seat, pretending to review his biology notes. In truth, he wasn't looking at the textbook at all. Hidden in his peripheral vision was something no one else could see:
[Subsystem Interface – Access Level: Student]
Brain Power: 0.7x
Life Points: 2.2
Task: Observation Log – Stage 2: Effects of Colored Light
Progress: 2/5
It had first appeared two weeks ago, floating before his eyes like a ghost made of light. No sound, no fanfare. Just a simple prompt, almost like a dream: "Would you like to grow?"
At first, he'd thought it was some kind of hallucination. But then the numbers had changed. Tasks were completed. Rewards were earned.
And more strangely—he felt it. His thinking had sharpened. Sleep became more restful. Ideas came more easily. Words arranged themselves with unusual clarity when he wrote.
Now, it was part of his life. Silent. Private. Real.
He tapped the panel with a thought. A glowing progress bar shifted by a sliver as he logged another observation from this morning.
He glanced up, catching Souta Minakawa looking at him from the far side of the room. Their eyes met. Souta gave no signal. Just a calm nod before returning to his own paperwork.
Across the room, Kana Ishikawa was scribbling in a notepad between bites of her sandwich.
Her interface glowed just above the page—faint, like mist on glass.
[Subsystem Interface – Access Level: Student]
Brain Power: 0.6x
Life Points: 1.2
Task: Survey on Perceptions of Intelligence and Lifespan
Progress: 4/5
She remembered the moment it appeared. She had been lying awake in her room, frustrated after failing to finish a difficult math assignment. Her mind was restless, chasing thoughts that refused to settle.
And then the message had come:
"A chance to grow. A path to clarity. Do you accept?"
Since then, things had changed—slowly, quietly. Her brain didn't feel faster, exactly. But her questions had deepened. She found herself noticing what others missed, asking better questions in class, and reflecting on the answers longer.
And more than that—she felt chosen. Not in a dramatic, fantasy-novel way. But as if a teacher had finally recognized the effort she always hid under a quiet smile.
She glanced at Souta.
You know something, she thought. I don't know what this is… but you're behind it.
Takeshi Murata leaned against the back wall of the corridor just outside the classroom. His usual goofball energy was muted, his hands quietly sketching in a thick spiral-bound notebook.
Inside, the subsystem glowed like a heads-up display from a sci-fi film.
[Subsystem Interface – Access Level: Student]
Brain Power: 0.46x
Life Points: 1.0
Task: Lab Tool Reference Guide
Progress: 9/10
He didn't know why he had been chosen.
The day he saw the panel for the first time, he'd been messing around in the chemistry room—alone, fixing a projector just to see if he could. Then the interface had appeared in his vision, like a reward from a game.
It didn't make sense.
But he'd followed its tasks anyway. And for the first time, his usual chaotic thoughts started to arrange themselves. Not always, not perfectly—but enough to notice.
He didn't talk about it. Not to friends. Not even in jokes.
Some part of him was afraid it would vanish if he said it out loud.
He flipped to a fresh page and started sketching the last item on his list: a mortar and pestle.
Inside the staff room, Souta reviewed the day's system logs. The feedback loop was working better than expected.
"Follower Kana: Survey progress updated.+0.2 LP awarded.Resonance return: +0.1 LP to Host."
"Follower Takeshi: Task Completion Nearing Threshold.Bonus potential triggered."
Three seeds, planted. Each growing at their own pace.
He opened his Growth Matrix Space. The trees within swayed gently. But now, in a separate quadrant, a new icon pulsed softly:
[Experimental Flora Slot Unlocked]
Cognitiva Bloom – Pending cultivation
Requirements: 3 Active Followers, Min. 1.0 LP Host Reserve
Yield: Mental Resonance Acceleration
Risk: Unknown mutation under uncontrolled time compression
He studied the details. It was the system's first offer beyond trees. Something refined. Responsive to intellect. Not just a passive source of Life Points, but an echo chamber—amplifying cognitive growth through resonance.
Should I risk planting it now?
He backed out. Not yet. Better to wait until all three followers had completed their initial tasks. Still, its appearance confirmed something vital:
The system was evolving.
Just like his students.
That night, Yamada stood by his window, watching the wind rustle the branches of the old tree in his yard. He touched the faint panel once more. It blinked, responsive, almost alive.
"Progressing steadily.Next challenge unlocks at completion."
"Do you wish to continue growing?"
His fingers curled slowly into a fist.
Yes.
He didn't know what this was yet. But it mattered.