It was second period at the Academy, and for Class 1-A, it was Maths.
Lauran was fighting a losing battle against sleep. Her chin dipped, snapped back up, dipped again. She blinked hard and forced herself to keep writing, though the numbers on the board were starting to blur together.
Beside her, Henry had completely shut his brain off.
He sat straight, eyes fixed on the professor, posture perfect—anyone looking at him would think he was the most attentive student in the room. In reality, his thoughts were miles away.
Lauran shot him a side-eye.
He's not even pretending, she thought irritably, before returning to her notebook and copying down the question anyway.
Then the professor's communicator chimed.
The class froze.
After a brief pause, the professor cleared his throat.
"The Academy has approved a spring trip for first-years."
For a second, there was silence.
Then—
The room exploded.
Cheers, whispers, excited murmurs. Someone nearly fell out of their chair. Even the students who had been half-dead moments ago suddenly came back to life.
Lauran's eyes lit up.
Henry tried to smile.
He knew exactly what was coming.
He had lived this once before.
The destination—though not yet announced—was close to one of the unstable openings leading to the Death Valley. A place that should not be part of a school trip. A place where things went wrong. Very wrong.
Lauran, however, had already forgotten.
She was a transmigrated soul—someone who had never truly experienced school life in her previous world. This Academy, this routine, this chaos—it was everything she had ever wanted.
And she was playing the role of Lauran so well that she forgot one crucial detail.
She had to save the damn world.
In another wing of the Academy, Kaykous—Kaya, as he insisted people call him—was suffering.
Physics class.
The crown prince stared at the board like it had personally betrayed him. His eyes were glassy. His soul looked seconds away from leaving his body.
Luke, seated beside him, noticed.
Kaykous slowly turned his head, his expression tragic.
"Luke. Help," he begged—entirely through his eyes.
Luke bit his lip, desperately trying not to laugh, before patting Kaykous's back in silent encouragement.
Meanwhile, in biology class, Xiao and Arron Bolt were seated on the first bench—a tragic mistake.
Both looked seconds away from collapsing face-first onto the desk.
Arron tilted his head slightly, staring at Xiao with unsettling focus, as though mentally mapping the cardiovascular system onto him.
Xiao felt it.
He turned and shot Arron a sharp glare.
Arron immediately looked away.
Biology, too, claimed its victims.
If there was one thing that united students across classes, species, and status—
It was this:
Maths.
Physics.
Biology.
The true enemies of youth.
The biology professor continued explaining head injuries, tapping the diagram of a skull projected on the board.
"—so depending on the severity, trauma to the head can affect blood flow to the brain—"
Arron raised his hand.
The professor paused, surprised. Arron Bolt rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary.
"Yes, Bolt?"
Arron stood up slowly, his expression thoughtful rather than nervous.
"Sir," he said, voice steady, "if a person suffers a head injury… can the blood vessels constrict or clamp shut?"
The professor nodded.
"Yes, that can happen."
Arron frowned slightly, as if fitting pieces together.
"And if that happens," he continued, "would it cut off oxygen to the brain? Enough to make the person… brain-dead?"
The words landed heavily.
The room went dead silent.
No scraping chairs. No whispers. Even the projector's hum felt loud.