The light was blinding.
A circle of runes pulsed beneath their feet, humming with ancient power. Andrew squinted, barely able to make out the vaulted ceiling above. Around him, his classmates stood in a daze, staring wide-eyed at the brilliant patterns forming under their shoes. It looked like something straight out of a fantasy game — only this time, it was real.
"Hey, Andrew," a voice whispered. "Are we… in another world?"
He turned toward the speaker. Harry — his desk mate, his friend since their second year — was looking around with cautious wonder, fingers gripping the strap of his backpack like a lifeline.
Andrew nodded slowly. "Seems like it."
Before either could say more, a majestic figure stepped forward. A woman clad in flowing white robes, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight. A priestess, or something like it.
"Welcome, chosen heroes," she intoned. Her voice was melodic, but something about it made Andrew's skin crawl. "You have been summoned by the Oracle of Elyssia, each of you selected by fate to defend our realm from the encroaching void."
The room buzzed with awe.
Andrew glanced around. There were about thirty students in total. Some were trembling, others grinning like kids who'd just been told they could become superheroes.
"Now," the priestess continued, raising her staff, "receive your divine class."
A glowing screen appeared in front of each student, floating in mid-air like a transparent tablet. Names, levels, and class titles began appearing one after another.
Harry - Blade Vanguard [A-Class]
Lena - Flame Warden [B-Class]
Mario - Arcane Duelist [S-Class]
Gasps erupted as students saw their names and high rankings.
And then—
"Andrew…"
He looked up.
The priestess was frowning, her brows pulled tight. "Something's wrong."
A single screen appeared in front of him — but instead of brilliant letters, it flickered with glitched characters, red warnings, and strange symbols.
Name: Andrew
Class: Unknown
Rank: —
Compatibility: Error
System Status: SEALE—
The screen blinked and disappeared.
A murmur rippled through the students.
"What's going on?" Andrew asked, stepping forward. "Did something break?"
But the priestess's gaze turned cold. The warmth had drained from her face.
"This one was not meant to be summoned," she said sharply. "There has been a contamination. An anomaly."
"Anomaly? He's one of us," Harry said, stepping between them. "You summoned the whole class."
"You do not understand, mortal," the priestess snapped. "This being is not of divine compatibility. He is unworthy. His presence will destabilize the World Core."
She raised her staff — and before Andrew could react, a sphere of light burst forth, slamming into Harry. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
"Harry!" Andrew shouted.
But the floor beneath him had already begun to change. The summoning circle glowed red. The beautiful golden runes turned jagged, corrupted.
"No," the priestess said. "This soul shall be cast into the Disposal."
The last thing Andrew saw was Harry twitching on the ground, his mouth trying to move — and then the light swallowed him whole.
Pain. Cold. The coppery scent of blood.
Andrew woke up gasping, coughing up dust. He was lying on cracked earth, surrounded by… bones.
The sky above was gray, endless, and oppressive. A dead tree stood a few meters away, twisted like a claw. In the distance, black birds circled over unmoving shapes.
"What the hell…" he whispered.
Then he saw them.
Bodies. Human. Dozens of them — piled, scattered, half-buried in ash and rot. A battlefield… or a graveyard.
He staggered to his feet. His heart pounded as he realized: this wasn't just exile. This was a death sentence.
"They dumped me in hell."
A sound broke the silence. Wet, dragging footsteps. Andrew turned sharply.
A creature — long-limbed, half-skinned, eyeless — was lurching toward him. It sniffed the air, then snapped its head in his direction.
Andrew froze.
"Analyze. It's blind. It hunts by smell. Maybe hearing."
The creature growled low.
Then it charged.
Andrew bolted.
He ran past shattered spears, over rusted armor, diving between corpses and ruined weapons. The beast howled behind him, faster than it looked.
Up ahead — a stone outpost, buried in vines and dust. The only structure for miles.
Andrew didn't think. He just ran toward it.
Inside, darkness. Silence. And then… light.
A blue crystal pulsed above a metal dais, humming with energy.
"Analyzing… Authorized soul signature detected."
"Unlocking Sealed Class: [Tactician of the Unseen]"
"Initializing Core Memory Access…"
Andrew stared as text began to float in the air.
You were not summoned to fight.
You were summoned to win.
You are the Variable. The anomaly. The strategist.
A sharp pain stabbed his head — and then, suddenly, the world made sense.
Lines. Weak points. Routes. Battle formations. Probabilities.
He could see everything. Predict everything.
The priestess hadn't cast him out because he was weak.
She cast him out because she was afraid.
Andrew took a breath and stepped forward into the tower's light.
"Let's see if this forgotten strategist can change the game."