Felix Anderson was ready to fade into the void. Instead, he woke up short, pretty, and stuck in a world of magic, monsters, and masked motives. Armed with a sarcastic sword-skill that lives rent-free in his head and a suspiciously powerful teleportation spell, Felix is thrown into Lorithal Academy—a school where failure means more than detention.

There’s a countdown only he can see, ticking toward something world-shattering. Students vanish. Shadows whisper. And Felix may be more entangled in the coming storm than he realizes.

Because even the cutest hero can be carved into a monster.

[Countdown to Midterms: 109 Days Remaining]


Not peaceful quiet—awkward quiet. The kind that makes your skin itch and your brain overanalyze every creak of the floorboards.


I hadn't seen Alex—Aeliana, I guess—since the incident.


And by "incident," I mean walking in, seeing everything, and immediately sprinting out like a cartoon character mid-breakdown.


I skipped breakfast. Avoided the kitchen entirely. Didn't even bother checking the class schedule.


Midterms didn't care about social drama.


I spent the entire day on the backfield.


Breaking every inch of my too-soft, too-unbattle-hardened body.


I slashed, twisted, blinked behind it, and slammed a charged Fire Lance from point-blank range.


It exploded in a gout of flame. I hit the ground in a roll, coughing from the smoke, arms trembling.


The academy's floating sunstone dipped low in the sky, casting long gold shadows over the field.


I trained with Crescent in silence. No jokes. No sass. No commentary.


Just the hum of her blade in my hand and the heat of my breath against cold wind.


I threw Flash into a mid-air blink, snapped around, and launched a Fire Lance toward a second dummy. My aim was off. It grazed the side and fizzled out.


"Too shallow," I muttered. "Try again."


"You've hit your limit," Crescent finally said, gently. "You're burning mana too fast."


"This won't make it go away, you know."


But right now? Training was easier than facing a dorm where a girl I'd shared a sink with every morning was probably debating whether to stab me or never speak to me again.


I collapsed against the base of a tree near the field, sweat dripping from my neck, shirt stuck to my back. The grass was cool. The sky slowly turned violet.


Recommended Action: Rest. Eat. Stop being self-destructive.


"You do realise that you'll need to talk to her eventually."


"Then why are you out here punishing yourself like you're in a tragic anime arc?"


"Because it's easier than walking back in there and seeing her look at me like I'm… I don't know. A thief or a creep or—"


"A boy who got unlucky with timing and doesn't know how to say 'sorry' properly?"


She just settled quietly in the back of my mind.


I finally dragged myself back to the dorm.


Hand on the handle. Heart rattling like it wanted to escape my ribs.


[System Notice: Fatigue accumulating. Sleep is recommended. System Integrity holds.]


Midterms approach. The system does not care about your awkwardness.


Chapter 17 - Awkward