The door to Class 1-A opened with a soft creak.
Nex stepped inside, the room quiet except for the faint murmur of three girls seated near the front. Only four students had arrived so far — the rest were likely still filtering in.
His sharp eyes scanned the room before moving toward the back, where a seat by the window caught the early sunlight.
As he walked past the girls, their conversation shifted — their voices a notch louder, a sparkle in their eyes.
"I swear, Lucas is the most handsome," one whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"No way," another countered, eyes dreamy. "Marcus has that mysterious vibe that just draws you in."
The third girl giggled. "Kaelith's cool, but so icy. I think he's too intimidating."
They glanced sideways as Nex passed, their cheeks tinting just a shade of pink.
Unaware of the subtle glances, Nex settled into the seat by the window. His presence — tall, lean, with sharp features and that quiet, calm aura — was a magnetic contrast to the usual crowd.
He wasn't aware yet, but the girls had already noted him as just as attractive — maybe even a little more — than the three boys they'd been debating.
He turned his gaze outward, watching the gardens bathed in morning light, tuning out the low hum of whispered chatter.
The first day was just beginning.
The classroom gradually filled with the sound of footsteps and chatter.
Marcus and Ruby entered first together, their easy conversation carrying faintly across the room. Kaelith followed soon after, walking beside a violet-haired girl Nex recognized from the Ember Wastes — the one who'd fought with precision and cold resolve.
Aria arrived surrounded by a few other girls, her calm, flame-touched presence drawing a subtle shift in the air.
Then came Lucas, striding in with his usual cheerful energy. Two unfamiliar faces flanked him — a girl with flowing golden hair and striking green eyes, and a boy with slightly disheveled brown hair and round spectacles. Lucas was already laughing with them like they'd been friends for years.
One by one, the rest trickled in until all forty seats were filled. The main cast noticed Nex and waved him over.
He met their gestures with a polite nod but shook his head, moving instead to his chosen seat by the window. It wasn't distance out of disdain — just habit, a quiet preference for the edges rather than the center.
While they waited for their homeroom teacher, Lucas took it upon himself to make introductions.
"This is Sylphie Harper, and this is Eren Crost," Lucas announced to the group with a grin.
Sylphie's beauty didn't feel out of place even among the main cast — her golden hair shimmered faintly in the morning light, and her green eyes had a soft brightness to them. Eren, in contrast, had a more reserved, studious look, his spectacles catching the light when he nodded shyly.
From his seat at the back, Nex watched quietly. He recognized Sylphie immediately. The daughter of Principal Eve Harper.
One of the youngest to ever reach Transcendent Rank — a title only five in the entire continent held. Her mother, was attending a high council conference among all four races. And in a twist of irony, she would one day be one of their instructors.
Nex's gaze slid back to the window, but not before he noticed the way Sylphie's attention lingered on Lucas, her expression softening when he spoke. A crush, then and smiled faintly seeing their dynamics.
The hum of conversation continued, filling the room with anticipation for the teacher's arrival.
---
The classroom door slid open with a soft click.
Conversations cut short as a woman stepped inside. She wasn't tall, but there was something about her presence that seemed to fill every corner of the room.
Shoulder-length black hair framed her face, her gray eyes sharp yet calm — like storm clouds hiding their lightning. Her beauty was undeniable, the kind that made several boys in the class instantly straighten in their seats, trying to look more composed than they were.
A subtle ripple of recognition moved through the students.
"Irene Colt…" someone murmured under their breath.
The name needed no introduction. She was a Monarch, an S-rank combatant, and currently ranked 122nd in the world. The kind of person most would see only from a distance in tournaments or military parades — yet here she was, standing in front of forty second-years like they were worth her time.
Her gaze swept the room in one smooth motion. It wasn't hostile, but it was assessing — weighing each student, measuring something beyond simple appearance.
When her eyes briefly passed over Nex, they paused for just a fraction longer than on the others.
Then she smiled faintly, not warmly, but in a way that said she already knew more about this class than they thought she did.
"Good morning," she began, her voice crisp, carrying without effort. "I am Irene Colt. Your homeroom instructor for this term."
The air felt just a little heavier, and everyone unconsciously sat straighter.
---
Professor Irene Colt let her eyes sweep the room again, as if confirming she had everyone's attention.
"This is Class 1-A," she said evenly. "The academy's top First-year group. That means every single one of you is here because you're exceptional… or at least, you were exceptional enough to get through the door."
A faint murmur ran through the rows.
She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing slowly.
"But understand this — here, exceptional is average. If you intend to stand out in this class, you'll have to prove yourself against people just as talented, if not more so." Her tone wasn't cruel, but it carried an edge, the kind forged by battlefields rather than lecture halls.
She stopped in the center and, without warning, her gray eyes locked onto Nex.
"You," she said, tilting her chin slightly toward him. "The one at the back, by the window. Name?"
Nex met her gaze without flinching. "Nex," he replied, voice calm and respectful.
A few students turned their heads.
"I see," Irene said after a moment. "You're new to this class, yet you've chosen the furthest seat. Preference, or strategy?"
Nex's lips curved in a polite half-smile. "Just a seat with a good view, ma'am."
A few chuckles broke out, but Irene's eyes stayed on him, studying. She didn't push further — just gave a slight nod, as if noting something for later.
"Very well," she said, turning away. "Let's begin. I'll warn you now — I'm not here to coddle you. This class will break the unprepared and sharpen the determined. The choice of which you'll be is yours."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling like a stone in still water.
---