The wait for the declaration lingered in the air far longer than the sound of his voice.
"I am a god."
Closest to this mysterious god, the president reacted first, his face full of shock. Nearly every student followed with sudden changes in expression.
With it came odd behaviors.
Some laughed quietly and nervously, fearful of an impending judgment for sins they might have committed back on earth, frozen as if waiting for someone else to break the illusion first.
A few others simply lowered their heads as their shoulders drew tight, feeling submissive down to the bone.
Serene, who stood next to him, gripped their interlocking hands tighter, slightly frightened, hoping to find comfort in Iskael's existence.
All these reactions were understandable. To the god, they seemed to give him a more sinister enjoyment at their emotional fluctuations toward his status.
Though Iskael was inherently different, even if he was just a human boy like any other, he did none of that.
No, something else was far more interesting, so he watched.
But it was not the god he watched.
It was the people.
Their unique reactions drew out Iskael's deep curiosity, a childlike curiosity he had never let go of since his conceivement.
He noticed the way expressions fractured differently across the hall.
There was awe, fear, denial, even excitement. Some students smiled in reverence, as if this confirmed something they had always wanted to believe.
Others recoiled, instincts screaming that something was wrong even if they could not articulate why.
Among those who could see the colors, most reacted the same way: eyes widening, breathing hitching, attention dragged helplessly toward the man radiating impossible authority.
But the most fascinating mystery was her.
Iskael narrowed his eyes slightly.
Not far from the front, standing among a small cluster of students dressed in modest white, the girl did not smile.
White garments. Modest cut. Symbolic embroidery that stood out even in this strange, colorless state. A faint emblem hung near her collar, still visible despite everything else being translucent.
'Ah.
The Holy Church.'
He recognized the iconography. The seventeenth generation, if memory served him right. A Saintness candidate, groomed from childhood to represent faith, order, and divine authority.
The current Saintness, seventeen years old, classroom 11A.
"Saint Elowen Sephiroth, blessed be her name, or as they say," Iskael spoke to himself.
"Hmm? Did you say something, Iska?" Serene whispered quietly, careful not to upset the god, looking at Iskael with a little worry.
"No worries, Sere, just a little surprised by what this god is," Iskael replied, perfectly soft spoken.
"Yea, I guess we're dead, and now god came to give us judgment?" she replied, a little melodramatically.
He looked at her beautiful, uncolored, pure eyes, a deep longing of desire floating up from his chest before he suppressed the feeling again.
A comforting sadness gazed upon her, his emotions passing through many stages of change, as if the cycles of the moon moved within his heart.
Though despite what he felt inside, oddly his surface level expression seeemed to remain unchanging all throughout.
"You couldn't have done anything deserving of punishment, Sere," he said, his tone gentle and steady, washing over her like warmth and slowly calming the nerves that had begun to overtake her.
'Though I can't say I haven't done anything to warrant divine punishment.' Memories surfaced of him as a child, small fingers wrapped around the hand of a feminine figure, witnessing countless sins unfold before his eyes.
'Thinking about it… I did pick up this self-destructive habit from her.''Ah, well. Enough memories.'
A sharp sense of distaste rose as he recalled that woman and the things he had done for her. He pushed the feeling aside and returned his attention to Elowen.
'Her behavior was odd. For one so devout to god, she certainly looked terrified,' Iskael thought, truly interested in the unique mystery before him.
She was not simply startled or overwhelmed, but terrified down to the bone in a way that felt deeper than any other moment.
Her hands shook at her sides, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but had forgotten how, and the threaded lights around her twisted in agony, pulling away from her body rather than toward it.
Anyone could recognize something was wrong.
Iskael frowned slightly.
The Holy Church's seventeenth-generation Saintness, Saint Elowen Sephiroth.
The one who was supposed to depart on pilgrimage next year.
The one surrounded by rumors of divine favor and absolute faith.
'Strange,' he thought.
'If anyone should look reassured by a god, it should be her.'
A dry thought followed, uninvited.
'haha wait... isn't this the fastest pilgrimage in history.'
But the humor fell flat even to himself.
Her fear clearly was not performative. Something inside her recognized the man in front of them as wrong and wanted to flee.
Despite her clear animosity and fear toward him, the god did not look at her once.
In fact, he seemed almost bored now. Bored by the reactions of all these children, realizing it was time to continue the conversation.
He turned away from the president and faced the full assembly once more, hands clasped loosely behind his back.
"Your confusion is expected," he said.
"You are dead, after all. Or were. Well, semantics, semantics." His ungripped hands waved in a careless manner.
A few students flinched.
"You will not receive step-by-step guidance," he continued.
"Nor will I personally shepherd each of you through what comes next. That would completely defeat the purpose."
Someone opened their mouth to speak. The god's gaze flicked toward them. They thought better of it.
"Your world is under invasion," he said plainly.
"An interdimensional one." A small smile perched across his face.
"With its invasion came the assimilation of mana. Your world, before manaless, soon began evolving to the infection of mana, first affecting your oceans, as your planet is 71 percent water."
Images flickered briefly in the air. A vast shape beneath black water. Too many eyes. Too much mass.
The god showed them the real image of the Leviathan.
"This is just another one of Earth's sea creatures, but through the evolutionary influence of mana, their characteristics completely changed in response."
A collective shudder passed through the hall.
"Though there is no fundamental problem with mana or a world blessed by it, it is wrong when a dimension is used as a tool for conquering and destruction. The Akashic Record would not allow such circumstances to exist without equality being preserved," the god paused.
"Therefore the creation of the Hero's Requiem as a tool for protection across multiple worlds. Candidates are specially chosen before adulthood for completion in assimilation with the Akashic Record and a potential better able to prepare for an unnatural invasion."
"The Hero's Requiem's purpose is to delay the invasion, disrupt it, and, if you prove capable, overturn it."
He lifted one hand.
A crystalline image formed above his palm. It was simple in shape, angular with spikes, almost unfinished. Yet something about it made the surrounding light bend unnaturally, as if it did not fully belong in the same space.
Iskael could not help but be fascinated.
Many froze in a trance at its clandestine beauty, showered in the vibrancy of its kaleidoscope of colors.
"This," he said, "is very important to all of you."
The image rotated slowly.
"How you use its uniqueness is entirely up to you. Though whether you ever find it is another matter entirely."
Iskael's eyes narrowed.
The god's expression shifted then, just slightly. A dutiful smile crossed his face, one he had not worn since he arrived. It did not reach his eyes.
Interesting.
The god lowered his hand.
"The Akashic Record will activate within your dimension once mana saturation completes. It is a system governed by equivalent exchange. All value has weight. All choices have consequence."
He paused.
"And yes," he added, glancing away while covering his mouth lightly, "it is very fair."
The way he said it made Iskael's thoughts stir.
Fair to whom?
Before anyone could ask, the god's attention snapped back to the crowd, suddenly sharp.
"Currently your dimension's complete assimilation with mana will be done in seven hours after you all wake from here, then you will be left with a little surprise."
"Sir god, what surprise will be left with us?" a random freshman boy asked.
The god looked at him in a comforting manner, a look one can only make if they had children of their own, though it felt extremely wrong and uncanny.
"It wouldn't be a surprise now, would it, young one," he spoke softly, smiling.
"Anyways, that's all. Now time to assign your values."
"You," he said, pointing at the president.
Then another.
And another.
After nine or so students had been chosen, the god pointed at one more person.
Serene stiffened.
"…Me?" she asked, incredulous, pointing to herself.
Light gathered beneath her feet.
She turned toward Iskael, eyes wide.
"What is he talking about," she whispered. "Is he taking me somewhere."
Her body lifted.
"Iska," she hissed, panic creeping into her voice. "Do something."
He watched her rise.
Objectively.
'Huh??' Iskael felt wondered.
She flailed once.
"AHHHHHHH."
"ISKAELLLLLLLL."
'oh...' he thought, extremely shocked at what had just happened.
Though he immediately found an excuse.
'I'm sorry, Sere... like come on what exactly was I supposed to do there...'
The god chuckled, clearly amused.
"I will be borrowing these," he said cheerfully, gesturing to the floating students.
"Do not fret. You will return shortly. Probably, after you succeed with your values being adjusted."
Serene glared at Iskael as she ascended.
Watching her leave left him with a bitter taste, he admitted internally. "But there are more important things," he worded.
And then the god turned. With a single step, he vanished, taking the chosen with him.
The pressure disappeared.
Noise flooded back in.
Voices rose.
"Where did they go."
"Why didn't he take us."
"That's it. That's all we get. Where are our assigned values?"
"So they're special."
"They're going to get special training, aren't they."
Resentment spread quickly, eyes flicking toward the empty space where Serene had been, toward the others who had been taken, toward Iskael himself, standing where he always stood, close to the center of attention without ever asking for it.
He felt the hostility wash over him and ignored it without shame.
His gaze had already dropped back to his hands, to something that ate at him far more interestingly.
The threads of mana still responded.
They curled eagerly when he focused, compressing under deliberate intent. He adjusted his approach, recalling the sensation Serene experienced.
The light folded as he chose to condense the mana in a more controlled manner.
A small sphere formed in his palm, dense and stable.
'So this is mana,' he thought. 'Fascinating.'
Footsteps approached the boy who held an incredulously euphoric smile at his triumph in controlling mana.
"Huh? Is that you, Kael?"
He looked up, and that was when he noticed him.
Class 10B's Daejin Seo. Standing out even here.
The school's golden boy.
His posture seemed carelessly relaxed, something only possible for one who knew how powerful they were.
Even as a translucent, foggy outline, his proportions were unmistakable. Tall, broad shoulders, long limbs built for action.
The perfect body.
Known across the entirety of Earth as the athlete of the highest potential.
Daejin had always been an anomaly at Sanctum Imperialis. A student who should have belonged in Class A by every measurable standard, yet he remained in 10B without complaint.
Academically gifted, socially effortless, ace across every sport offered by the academy.
He was the kind of person teachers spoke about fondly and students spoke about carefully, knowing his true personality.
"Perfect" to the eyes of anyone normal.
Daejin had been staring at Iskael's feral smile.
"Wow, dude, you totally look like you're enjoying this right now," Daejin said lightly.
"Damn, that face reminds me of the good days, back when we did all those horribly fun things in middle school," he added with a chuckle, scratching his nose in nostalgia.
"ehh.. you mean us being in this new world, right?" Iskael asked, as if hiding his emotions in a jokish manner.
"If that's the case, then it's just being engaged."
Daejin chuckled lightly, warmth settling into his chest before he questioned it.
Talking to Iskael always did that. Though Daejin understood how big of a bastard he truly was, Kael had not cared one bit for the person before him. The way he spoke to him was unique.
A strange charisma felt truly grounding from him, something that made anyone's desires satisfied enough for complacency in being around him.
Though if you remained at his side for too long...
An uncanny feeling of being eaten alive played in Daejin's mind as he thought about that.
His eyes drifted to Iskael's hand.
"Oh, what's that?"
"Gum."
"…Gum?"
"Yes."
It looked strange. Slightly transparent. Almost foggy.
Daejin tilted his head."Wait, how do you have gum?" He looked at Iskael questionably.
"Hmm, I don't know, it just appeared. I was holding packets of gumballs in my pocket before I died. Did you forget my gum addiction?"
Daejin paused and memories flashed.
"oh yea.. but wait, if you woke up with gum in your pockets after you died, then where's my smartphone?"
"Oh yea, where is my smartphone?" Iskael also spoke, confused.
"Well, whatever," Daejin said, tired of trying to understand the circumstance.
"That doesn't look normal at all."
"Neither do we."
"oh.." Daejin paused. "Yea, you're totally right.."
Another chuckle left Daejin's mouth.
Iskael turned, beginning to walk slowly across the hall. Daejin fell into step beside him without thinking, feeling as if he was commanded by a string attached.
"So," Daejin said, glancing around.
"I've been thinking about what life's going to be like once we go back. Or maybe this is actually all just a dream, you know? But maybe we will have the powers to face off against monsters like that leviathan that killed us."
Daejin always had a deep desire for competitiveness, even in petty ways.
Iskael hummed in agreement.
"Well, if you think about it, being too curious isn't always so good, as it usually follows catastrophe," he said.
"You know, it is preferable to panic and be scared of whatever we will experience," Iskael continued, walking, fingers interlocked behind his head as he moved in a careless manner beside Daejin.
Daejin nodded, oddly reassured.
Iskael stopped.
He held the sphere out.
"Want some."
Daejin hesitated for half a second, then shrugged.
"Sure."
Iskael turned away, pretending to rummage through his translucent pants.
"Go ahead," he said casually. "I'm looking for my other piece. You can eat without me."
Daejin lifted the sphere.
It was warm.
He began chewing on it lightly.
Iskael listened intently, glancing over with quiet interest.
To everyone else, Iskael seemed like the quiet type. The obedient shadow of Class 10D's leader, Serene Weiss of the Weiss dukedom. The dog, as they liked to call him.
But Iskael, though emotionally empty for the most part, was someone who desired obsessively. Someone who clung, deeply and irrationally. Perhaps there was a reason for that.
though It did not matter right now.
'What could happen. What could happen.'The thought looped as a thrill crept up his spine, too sharp to ignore.
Experimenting with something completely unknown. On his childhood friend at that?
How cruel..
'Rejection. Overload. Cellular failure. Death? If not that, then what else? Comfort, maybe. Like Serene. If he collapses, I'll act shocked. If he dies… unfortunate. But informative.'
'This is too much of a self-destructive habit.'
Iskael gave himself a light slap on the head while his back was turned, pretending to rummage for gum as he formed another piece.
The anticipation sent a sharp thrill through him. Cleaner than fear. Better than grief.
"Ahh…" he muttered quietly as a deep tug pulled at his chest, sudden and uncomfortable.
"That's bitter," kael murmured.
Iskael pushed away the image of Serene slipping from his grasp.
Then a sound cut through the noise.
Low and uncontrolled.
A moan.
A pleasurable moan?
Iskael turned in shock.
Daejin's knees buckled.
Mana surged around him, clinging to Daejin in an almost intimate way.
Iskael felt his pulse spike as anticipation flooded his veins.
But Daejin's gaze snapped him out of his brief fantasy.
"What did I just eat, Kael…?"