The best part about Luxis Academy?
It has a rooftop.
The worst part about Luxis Academy?
So does everyone else.
I used to come up here to nap during lunch. Quiet skies. Wind in my hoodie. That perfect sliver of peace between existing and pretending not to. But then someone posted a photo of me sleeping up here on WitchTok, and now I'm "mysterious nap god" to an entire subset of Eldaran fangirls who believe I speak in dreams.
Spoiler: I don't.
If I did, I'd probably say something poetic like "let me die in peace."
"Langston!!"
Ah. And here comes the interruption.
I cracked one eye open and tilted my head.
It was Talia again. My personal attendance bounty hunter.
"You're skipping Magical History!" she shouted, hands on her hips.
"Time is a construct."
"You said that last week."
"I'm consistent."
"Get your ass off the roof before someone makes a shrine to you again."
Too late. There were already candle lights at the door.
I eventually got dragged back to class, again. Magical History. Today's topic?
"The Treaty of Realms: How Earth and Eldara Stopped Trying to Murder Each Other."
The teacher—a talking skull in a bowtie named Professor Mort—was projecting a magical hologram of the historic peace summit.
I tried to pay attention. I really did.
But my desk had just the right amount of wobble to it, and I was one blink away from reaching peak nap velocity.
Then the wall exploded.
You ever try to sleep while your school wall's getting destroyed by a mutant flying goat demon?
Yeah. Not easy.
A winged creature with horns and a questionable hygiene rating burst through the classroom. Screaming. Foaming. Spitting Latin backwards.
Everyone ducked. Spells flew. A shield spell barely blocked the chalkboard from impalement.
Me?
Still in my seat.
Wasn't fear. I was just... done.
The goat demon paused mid-rampage and stared at me.
Dead. In. The. Eyes.
I stared back.
We had a full spiritual conversation in that moment.
"Why are you here?"
"I don't know."
"Same."
It turned and left through the hole it made.
"T-That thing…" Talia whispered, poking her head up from under her desk. "Why did it leave?!"
"Maybe it's allergic to disappointment," I muttered.
By the end of the day, three new rumors had formed:
1. I was the reincarnation of a Demon Lord.
2. My aura "tamed" the monster.
3. I kissed it. (??)
I swear I didn't even move. How do these rumors escalate so fast?
My face was now printed on magical trading cards. A freshman tried to buy my hoodie for 200 soul shards and a baby phoenix.
After school, I tried to sneak into the back garden—a peaceful forbidden area where no one sane ever goes because of the soul-sucking plants. Perfect spot for a nap, right?
Wrong.
"YOU THERE!"
I turned.
It was a man in a long green coat, sparkly monocle, and an owl on his shoulder.
"I've been observing your pattern," he said dramatically. "Your presence distorts probability. Reality curves around you like... like a cursed banana."
I blinked.
"You are the Statistical Anomaly," he declared.
"I just wanna nap."
"Come with me. I must run tests."
"Do those tests involve sleeping?"
"No."
"Then I'm not interested."
But he insisted. Said I needed to register with the "Department of Interdimensional Balancing" because my existence might be screwing with multiverse stability.
Apparently, people like me are classified as "Dimensional Luck Anchors"—individuals whose presence alters fate paths unconsciously. I have no idea what that means, but he started speaking in charts and graphs and... I may have passed out during his monologue.
When I woke up, I had a badge pinned to my chest that said:
"Level 1 Fate Hazard: Do Not Touch."
Talia almost fainted when she saw it.
"W-What the hell did you do now?!"
"I blinked."
As if that wasn't enough?
My name got randomly picked for a team dungeon test.
Team leader? Me.
Dungeon type? Chaos Class.
Danger level? "PLEASE DON'T."
And my teammates?
1. A quiet beastman girl who only speaks in riddles.
2. A transfer student who still thinks we're engaged.
3. A slime with an existential crisis.
They all gathered around me like I was some kind of authority.
Beastgirl: "You must be the chosen stillness."
Transfer girl: "I believe in you, darling!"
Slime: "Why am I alive? Also hi."
I said nothing.
The dungeon opened with a sound like a cow being hit with a frying pan.
End of day. No nap.
World possibly broken.
People think I'm a god.
A flying banana hit me in the face on the way home. No one threw it. It just… appeared.
I climbed into bed, wrapped myself in four blankets, and whispered softly to the ceiling:
"Tomorrow... I better die in my sleep or win the lottery. There is no in-between."
The lights flickered.
From outside my window, I heard someone chanting my name in a language I didn't understand.