"Cuckoo, cuckoo..."
The morning sun rose as the crisp calls of birds heralded a new day. On the sparsely populated Sanyang Street, Damian gulped down his steaming corn porridge.
"Uncle Kaiden, I'm off to school."
Kaiden, the breakfast stall owner, peeked out from the kitchen, his flour-dusted face beaming with cheer.
"Good luck with your thesis defense in advance."
Damian forced a bitter smile. "Hopefully!"
After scanning the payment, he rode off on a bike, wobbling toward the Institute of Technology. Four years into his transmigration, he had no cheats or backing—only his decently sharp wits.
"A peaceful life isn't so bad. After graduation, join the observatory, climb the ranks in ten years, and life's complete."
Half an hour later, he parked the public bike in the designated zone outside the school, pulling out his printed thesis to review. He simulated the defense in his head.
His thesis title: "The Intrinsic Link Between the Sun's Irregular Vibrations in Recent Years and the Surge in Natural Disasters on Purple Star."
"Researched this topic for over a year. Can't scrap it all just because of my advisor's words."
He was clever, but not *clever* enough. Most students would've switched topics to coast through. But he'd been a perfectionist before transmigrating, obsessive about details—a trait he inherited here.
"The observational data isn't lying. If the sun keeps vibrating like this, Purple Star *will* collapse."
The planet beneath his feet was called Purple Star, but its data mirrored Earth's, making comparisons viable.
"Hey, what's collapsing?" A waft of fragrance preceded a large hand clasping his shoulder. The target had been his waist, but the crowd forced a last-second adjustment.
"I'm collapsing! What is that weird perfume?" Damian turned, eyes filled with disgust. The girl stood at six feet, her delicate face lit with a kind yet wise smile—maternal, almost.
"Did you eat breakfast? I brought some. Don't stress about the defense. Treat those professors like logs. Don't embarrass me."
Damian wanted to smack her.
"Is it *that* time of the month again? Clarification: I didn't initiate *that* night. You're responsible for your own choices. Know how boring I am? Staring at data sets, turning into a fool. Post-graduation, I'm heading to the observatory—dull as hell, not your scene. Besides, I've got a goddess. We'll tie the knot post-grad. You—"
"Vivian, right? That slut? Not marrying you. Just playing. The virginity's got to break sometime. Better me than random dudes. Oh, did you secretly bulk up?"
The girl was Lilith, a star athlete from the School of Physical Education. She'd dominated national games, crushing her peers and was already tapped for the national team. With Olympic potential next year, she walked Damian to the lecture building, bickering all while the defense began.
"The sun's vibrations aren't random—they might link to a surge in interstellar particle storms."
"I analyzed Purple Star's last six months: thirty thousand level-four+ earthquakes, two thousand volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, typhoons—all synced perfectly with solar vibrations."
"My mathematical model predicts that if the sun keeps this pace, Purple Star could face catastrophic crustal shifts within a century, possibly triggering mantle bulge phenomena."
"In conclusion: Purple Star will explode—within five centuries."
The room fell silent as professors exchanged uneasy glances. The dean nodded toward Marcus, a scowling, balding old man. "Your student's insightful. Logical, solid data—but too fanciful. Let's pass him?"
Marcus pounded the table. "Where's the concrete evidence? Guesses, pure guesses! This thesis would be mocked. I told him to switch topics, but he refused. Fails here. With his abilities, rewriting in two weeks? Easy. Wait for a second chance."
Damian hadn't expected this. Two months prior, he'd caught Marcus harassing a student. Since then, the professor held a grudge. Damian had requested a new advisor, but the deadline had passed.
Outside the classroom, a pair of legs blocked his path—Lilith.
"Want some help knocking out the old man tonight?" Her stunning face twisted into mischief. Apparently, she wasn't stranger to trouble.
"Shh, don't act out. You'll graduate, but I need to finish."
"Please. I'm exempt. Come, I'll buy you bubble tea. Invite your buddies. Hey, is Purple Star's explosion legit?"
On the way out, Damian explained his research. Lilith, who detested physics, strangely devoured his explanations—even drawing her own conclusions.
"So if it's exploding… we should live it up! Tonight, I'm coming over? Let's party. No strings."
Damian tuned her out. "Sure…"
His words trailed off as a couple approached—a handsome man and a heavily made-up woman. "Damian, I've got a boyfriend. Let's distance ourselves. Sheng might misunderstand."
Damian braced for emotion, but felt none. Vivian, a junior he'd known, had seemed sweet, but… their bond was superficial. Mistaken closeness, nothing deeper.
"Kid, stay away from her. Got it?" Julian towered in designer clothes, labels flaunting his wealth.
Damian smiled, shaking his head as he sidestepped them. Transmigrants weren't mindless horndogs—he'd make rational choices, shedding baggage.
"Upset? It's okay. My chest's broad enough—come cry."
Damian shot her a look. *Very* broad. The memory of that night's touch lingered. "Let me finish explaining the thesis. I'll tell you how Purple Star explodes—it's fascinating…"
Their voices faded as the Institute of Technology melted into the sunlight.
Meanwhile, two hundred million kilometers away, the sun acted as if fitted with a super-engine, convulsing violently. When contraction proved impossible, it expanded wildly. Solar winds swept fiercely toward Purple Star. Thud, thud, thud… The pale purple planet trembled, awakening like a beast.