I was sprawled in the chair like a man who'd fought for his life… and won against a buffet.
My tray sat in front of me like the wreckage of a battlefield—plates scraped clean, bones left as a warning to the next poor soul, and an empty juice cup lying sideways as though it had died valiantly in the line of thirst.
I didn't move. Couldn't, really.
My stomach was so full I could practically hear the sound of my internal organs negotiating new lease terms.
My limbs had given up any pretense of composure—my left arm hung off the edge of the chair while my right just… existed.
I wasn't exactly graceful, but I was content.
Around me, the cafeteria was alive. Not just bustling—alive.
The scent of spices and herbs clung to the air—some sweet, some earthy, others sharp enough to sting the eyes.
A group of fairies fluttered near the ceiling, wings humming like soft chimes, laughing as one of them dropped a floating grape into another's open mouth midair.
A pair of Wulfgan boys growled playfully over who got the last roasted fang-drake rib, while a vampire girl with sharp braids and unreadable crimson eyes stirred her tea without touching it.
Voices mingled with clinking cutlery and the occasional burst of magic—a tray hovering here, a fork catching fire there, quickly doused by a yelp and a smug water mage.
Even here, away from combat, everyone radiated potential. Power. Pride.
And then—
Fwzzzt.
The air above the central dais shimmered.
A rune-glimmered screen projected into view, casting soft silver light across the hall as the chatter dimmed slightly.
"Oh, they're showing more rankings," someone whispered behind me.
"Top ten reels," another added. "Bet they saved the best chaos for last."
Onscreen, the Silver Mist Academy crest faded—and was replaced by a frozen shot of a certain platinum-haired vampire girl, midair, daggers drawn, mouth curled into a feral grin.
Cassia Virelle Duskmoor.
And hell followed.
The scene erupted into motion.
The crowd exploded into laughter, gasps, and the occasional horrified wheeze as Cassia whipped across the screen like a fever dream.
The platform cracked beneath her landing, stone spraying like shrapnel as she dove into Liora's illusion spell—laughing, spinning, eating a hit just to land one harder.
She somersaulted through magic blasts like she was made of smoke and fury, delivered a backhand that somehow looked elegant and unhinged at the same time, and at one point licked her own blood off a dagger in the middle of a combo.
"Gods, is she okay?" someone muttered.
"That chick fights like a rabid banshee that drank three espresso potions."
"Pretty sure she bit that fairy."
"She bit three people, bro."
"She's a whole lawsuit in motion."
"And look at her land! Why's that pose so... illegal?!"
The camera froze at the moment Cassia posed midair after slashing through a platform—one arm behind her head, hair trailing like a banner, eyes glinting murder and moonlight.
The cafeteria lost it.
Even a few seniors at the back corner clapped, half-terrified, half-impressed.
I leaned back in my chair, arm resting lazily across my stomach, and exhaled.
My eyes drifted toward the screen as it faded back into the Silver Mist crest once again.
Cassia's chaos burned into my mind like a warning label.
She was definitely on the
"Do Not Engage Without Medical Insurance" list.
"First-years this year are insane," someone groaned behind me.
"No joke. Did you see that one guy fighting three people with cutlery?"
"Yeah, and that fairy girl who turned two seniors into icicles and then apologized to the snow?"
"I miss when first-years were scared of their own shadows."
"Same. These ones fight like they're trying to traumatize the upperclassmen."
I heard the table behind me mutter something else about "who's next," but I was already slouched back again, fingers laced behind my head as I stared at the ceiling.
I was full.
Dangerously so.
My stomach was negotiating with gravity.
I couldn't tell if I was satisfied or sedated.
"Should I get takeaway?" I mumbled.
There was a pause.
Then:
{You are a black hole masquerading as a person,} Echo said calmly.
I snorted.
"I was starving."
{You were committing edible homicide.}
I chuckled under my breath.
'That's rich coming from someone who doesn't have a digestive system.'
{And yet I'm the only one here with self-restraint.}
"Noticed you sound extra composed today," I muttered, closing one eye lazily.
'What, did you level up your sarcasm module or something?'
{No. I simply figured at some point, someone has to be the adult in this relationship.}
'Ouch'
{You can barely tie your own tie, Eden.}
I cracked a smile. 'You helped me late. That doesn't count.'
{You were strangling yourself.}
'Only mildly.'
Before she could respond, the screen flickered again.
And this time, the light changed.
Softer. Slower. Intentional.
The air around us seemed to still.
Conversations hushed on their own.
Even the fairies paused mid-flight.
The Silver Mist crest melted away.
And the next reel began.
But I'd already made the executive decision to hibernate.
I tilted my head back, exhaled slowly, and let my eyes drift shut.
My stomach had declared a no-motion policy, and frankly, I agreed.
The chair cradled me like a throne of the overfed, and I sank deeper into its embrace like a man who'd been defeated by his own ambition.
My arms dangled to the sides like I'd been tranquilized.
The only thing I could hear now was the thrum of conversation fading into the distance, replaced by the soft hum of the projection beginning again.
Didn't care.
Not my problem.
I was done.
If the world was ending, I'd face it after digestion.
Maybe.
But the cafeteria hadn't gone quiet for just any scene.
Because without me realizing it…
My reel was playing.
---
The screen above shimmered and brightened.
First scene: a shattered platform mid-collapse.
Dust, sweat, and raw violence.
And at the heart of it—me.
Eden Prairie, barefoot, bloodied, one orb already cracked.
Fighting a vampire prince and a Wulfgan berserker at the same time.
The crowd didn't react right away.
Not until they realized who they were looking at.
"That's... wait, is that—?"
"Holy shit. That's him."
"That guy's right there!" a girl whispered, half-panicked, pointing at my unmoving figure in the corner.
"He's literally asleep!"
Heads turned.
Dozens of students twisted in their seats to look at the lone white-haired boy slumped across a corner table like a half-dead cat.
My face was tilted lazily toward the ceiling, expression as serene as if I were listening to lullabies instead of my own public execution.
Back on-screen, the fight surged into motion.
The crowd watched as I sidestepped Fenrir Maverick's claw swipe, ducked under Valois's twin blade arc, then delivered a bone-rattling heel kick to Fenrir's side that sent the Wulfgan reeling.
The projection showed it clearly—Fenrir's orb lit up with fracture lines, then cracked like an egg under a hammer.
The cafeteria gasped.
"That's the Wulfgan kid! Fenrir something—he's a Kaleeki, right?"
"Was a Kaleeki."
The next moment showed me using Fenrir's falling momentum to launch myself upward toward Valois.
It was chaos. Desperation in motion.
But even in that state—bare hands, no aura—I moved like I belonged.
The orb on Valois's waist flashed as I struck.
Crack.
"Did… did he just shatter one of Valois Laurent's orbs?"
"No class. No weapon. That's insane."
The stunned murmurs rose into quiet exclamations.
A boy with dark horns muttered, "He's not even enhanced. How the hell—?"
"Wait, isn't that guy classless?"
"No way. Must be a hidden class or something—"
"I heard he's from the Prairie family. The white-haired twins. The girl's Glory."
"He's Glory's twin?"
Back on screen, the reel shifted.
Now it was just me and Valois.
A crumbling bridge. Smoke and mana rising in the air.
The platform cracked and sagging beneath our feet. Valois moved like a wraith—precise, elegant.
I was reeling. Bleeding. Barely dodging.
The audience fell quiet again.
Valois struck once, twice, thrice. I blocked with nothing but my forearms and reflex.
A blade grazed my shoulder. Another strike forced me to my knees.
The camera zoomed in as I gasped, one hand pressing against the broken stone, blood dripping from my lip.
Still not yielding.
"He should've given up," someone whispered.
"Valois was going for the kill…"
"No," another boy said quietly, eyes narrowed.
"He wasn't. He was testing him."
The tension in the room grew tighter.
Back on screen, Valois raised his blade, eyes glowing faintly red, his form cast in half-light and dusk.
I looked up from my knees.
And smiled.
The whole cafeteria held its breath.
"Wait—what's he—"
Then I said it.
"Duck."
Valois blinked in confusion.
So did everyone watching.
"...Duck?" someone repeated.
The next moment, my body vanished. Gone in a blink of light and shadows.
The platform detonated a second later, throwing Valois back in a spray of debris.
I wasn't there.
I'd already escaped.
The reel froze on Valois standing, coughing dust, scanning the battlefield with narrowed eyes.
I was nowhere in sight.
Just an empty crater.
---
The room was silent.
Not a ripple. Not a whisper.
All eyes flicked back to me—still in the same position. Head tilted. Breathing slow. Eyes shut.
I stirred slightly.
Scratched my chin.
Then settled again, murmuring something incomprehensible under my breath like I was dreaming about pancakes.
"...He doesn't even know," a girl said quietly.
"He's just there. Chilling. After doing that."
A vampire student across the table laughed softly.
"I think I'm scared."
A group of Fyorian nobles looked away from me awkwardly.
"Is he pretending to be asleep?"
"No. Look at him. That's full-belly sleep posture."
A dwarf muttered, "Bro just threw hands with a Laurent and then took a nap like it was cardio."
Someone snorted behind me.
"This year's first-years aren't students. They're boss fights."
Another nodded solemnly. "That guy's a side quest with hidden lore. I swear."
Whispers rippled through the cafeteria again, more curious now than shocked.
"He's classless, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's not normal…"
The projection flickered again.
The scene on the projection shimmered.
The background changed—this time to a dark, forested quadrant of the arena, where a girl with earth-crusted gloves stood desperately holding off a tall, pale boy with a cruel grin and a wicked scythe dragging behind him.
The camera panned in, as if a divine observer was pulling the world closer.
"That's… Thalia Renwild, isn't it?" someone at a nearby table muttered.
"Third daughter of the Fyorian Empire."
"Yeah, that's her. She's the Terrakai prodigy. Look at her—she's down to one orb!"
"She's cornered! That Necrozi guy's eating her alive out there—"
Then—shoom.
A ripple.
A pulse of violet and black—like ink tearing through silk—and Eden appeared behind the Necrozi boy mid-swing, one hand already raised, crackling with mana.
Gasps echoed across the cafeteria.
"Wait—wait—was that—?"
The scythe arced toward Thalia's neck—and stopped.
Frozen in place, caught in the bare-handed grip of a boy in a torn hoodie.
Eden's grip.
He yanked the weapon back, kicked the boy in the chest, and vanished again—gone as suddenly as he arrived.
"…What the hell was that movement?"
"He TELEPORTED?! Bare-handed?! No chant? No glyphs??"
"I thought he didn't even have a class—"
"He doesn't."
"Then how the hell is he still alive?"
Then—
BOOM.
The projection blazed again—this time so bright, it lit up the cafeteria walls in flashes of gold and white.
The camera reeled upward, and every student craned their necks to look.
A body.
Falling.
Eden Prairie.
Dropping like a rogue angel flung from the heavens.
The sky whirled around him.
The wind howled.
And then—
BOOM.
He landed.
The ground cracked open like a crater had kissed it.
The explosion rippled out—stone splitting, dust kicking up in a perfect shockwave—and Eden knelt at the center of it all, his fist buried in the earth like a fallen god punching the planet.
The cafeteria went silent.
No chewing. No murmuring. Even the spoons paused midair.
A girl near the dessert counter whispered, "...Did he just punch the ARENA?"
A taller boy slowly lowered his tray. "Who the hell is this guy?"
Another whispered reverently, "He fell from the sky and still had enough mana to nuke the ground…"
The scene shifted again.
Glory ran to him, half-limping.
She tackled Eden in a hug, sobbing, laughing, half-scolding him while beating her fists against his chest.
A soft gasp moved through the crowd.
Someone whispered, "That's Glory Prairie. His twin.
She's very strong"
"But she cried for him…"
"I thought he was just a fallen genius or something. A spoiled brat."
"Are you blind? That guy's a monster."
"No class, no weapon, and he's still toe-to-toe with the elites…"
"Why haven't we heard more about this guy?!"
And then—
Cassia walked into frame.
Crimson, chaos, and sarcasm wrapped in curves and curls.
She twirled a dagger and made a heart shape with her fingers at Eden and Glory hugging.
Someone snorted.
"Oh, her again. I swear she's clinically insane—"
"She said she wanted him to land shirtless—?!"
Another reel kicked in—Valois arriving like a storm dressed in silk, twin blades at his hips and that demonic calm in his smirk.
Then came the rush—the final clash.
Selene blurred forward. Justin dashed. Cassia twirled into chaos.
And then—
Eden turned to his sister.
He smiled.
And he punched her.
"Wait—WHAT?!"
"She's flying—oh my—"
Eden raised his hand.
Mana coiled.
Someone at the back of the cafeteria stood.
"No… no, he's not—"
And then he detonated.
The blast was silent, but every student watching felt it in their bones.
Chairs rattled. Trays clinked.
Cassia went flying, laughing mid-air.
Justin crashed into a wall.
Valois bowed with a grin as the wave hit him and he vanished.
And then—Eden was gone.
Gone like a whisper after a scream.
No class. No gear. No teammates.
Just a madman, a crater, and a goodbye explosion.
Then the screen faded into black.
Silence held.
Until, in bold golden letters across the reel, the words appeared:
[RANK #5 - EDEN PRAIRIE]
That was all it took.
The cafeteria exploded.
"FIFTH?!" someone screamed near the drink dispensers.
"He's classless and he placed FIFTH?!"
"No way—no way. That's a mistake. He should've been number one!"
"Top three at the very least!"
"Did you SEE what he did to the terrain?! He made a crater! With his fist!"
"And saved Thalia Renwild mid-fight like it was a walk in the woods!"
"I'm telling you—he's a beast. No class, no gear, no nothing. Just hands and hellfire!"
At one table, a tall boy with ice-blue hair crossed his arms and grunted,
"Sure, he's strong. But did you all forget about Selene? She hasn't even sweated once. That girl's untouchable."
A blonde girl across from him snorted, "You think Eden's untouchable too.
I saw the way you paused that video on your tab."
"I paused it to analyze his fighting technique—!"
"You paused it when he smirked, you simp!"
Laughter erupted.
Another group nearby leaned over their trays, whispering with the breathless urgency of conspirators.
"If not for that mana bomb stunt, Eden wouldn't have lasted another thirty seconds," said one.
"That thing was suicide magic. He was on the edge."
"Still smarter than most of you," a girl with thick glasses said, adjusting her smartwatch.
"He knew his limit and pulled out the wild card. That's strategy."
"But going up against Cassia and Valois? Please." A different student shivered.
"Valois gives me nightmares and I've never even spoken to him."
"Cassia gives me... something. I don't know if it's fear or a crush."
"Both," said three voices at once.
Meanwhile, the attention shifted—eyes scanning toward the quiet figure sprawled in the far corner.
There he was.
Eden Prairie.
Sleeping. Head tilted slightly back, one arm dangling from the chair, his tie slightly loose around his collar. His tray was still on the table, empty, a fork still clutched lazily in his hand like he'd passed out mid-bite.
And now?
Now the entire cafeteria couldn't stop staring.
"Is he actually... asleep?"
"After that whole explosive entrance and saving Thalia and punching the ground like a god—he's just... napping?"
"That's so hot, it's unfair."
"Wait, are you serious? He's actually gorgeous."
"Yeah, but like... angry gorgeous.
Like he might fight your dad but also remember your birthday."
A girl near the window slowly lifted her Aether-smartwatch and whispered, "Don't judge me," before snapping a quiet photo.
Click.
Then another.
Then a boy in the back snuck one too.
And soon, half the tables had cameras raised, each person pretending they weren't snapping pictures of the sleeping fifth-ranked student like they hadn't just witnessed a living mana missile in action.
"Is it weird if I make him my lockscreen?"
"Yes."
"…What if I add a filter?"
"Still yes."
Another student whispered with a kind of reverent awe, "He doesn't even know we all just watched him detonate himself and dropkick his sister."
"He really punched her and called her pretty."
"That's PEAK sibling energy."
"Did you see the part where he told Valois to duck? And then disappeared?!"
"I rewound that part three times."
"Bro's a lunatic."
"Bro's a legend."
"Bro's a LUNATIC LEGEND."
At that moment, Eden shifted slightly in his seat.
The room froze.
His head tilted the other way.
He mumbled something unintelligible and… snored, just a little.
Someone gasped.
"Oh my gods he snores beautifully—"
"Okay, you need help."
"Is he drooling? Please tell me he's not drooling."
He wasn't.
He was just asleep.
Peacefully.
Like he hadn't just shattered half the rankings and half the arena.
The reel screen finally disappeared.
The buzz continued to rise, like a thunderstorm held together by gossip and awe and far too much admiration.
And at the center of it all — sprawled in blissful ignorance, still digesting enough food to feed a mid-sized military camp — Eden Prairie remained unaware.
Unmoving.
Untouchable.