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Chapter 12 - Rejected, Defective and probably cursed

"In a world full of chosen ones, I am apparently... the misplaced one."

*****

"You've been assigned to Sector 5."

Those six words felt like a divine punishment.

I stared at the piece of parchment in my hand like it owed me money. Or an apology. Or both.

"Sector… what now?" I blinked at the staff member, a sleepy-looking third-year who couldn't be bothered to lift his eyes from his clipboard.

"Sector Five," he repeated, with all the emotional investment of a dead houseplant. "Congrats. You're in the—uh—'special' group."

Special.

Ah. There it was.

The academic kiss of death.

*****

The Academy's sector system was designed to "optimize peer synergy." Which was a fancy way of saying:

Sector One housed the prodigies. The untouchables. The beautiful people. The plot-armored.

Sector Two was for sector one's rivals. Mostly knights who had exceptional talent.

Sector Three was for high-performers with potential. Slightly flawed, still salvageable. Like discounted wine.

Sector Four was for ordinary background Joe's.

And Sector Five?

Well, no one talked about Sector Five.

Like it was cursed.

Or haunted.

Or both. Honestly, it probably had its own cryptid.

I dragged my feet across the campus lawn, glaring at every golden-haired chosen one that strutted by.

Of course, Aris was in Sector One. I caught a glimpse of her in the distance, dazzling in her scarlet uniform coat, laughing with two other nobles. She glanced at me once, gave the tiniest frown, and looked away.

Fine. I didn't want to sit at the cool kids' table anyway.

Also spotted Reed—the protagonist himself—chatting with some ridiculous beast-tamer girl who was juggling three magical squirrels.

Sector One things.

Even Lysandra—the goth necromancer waifu—was in Sector Three, surrounded by people too afraid to ask her why her bag was hissing.

Everyone important. Everyone relevant.

And me?

Sector Five.

A place so irrelevant, it wasn't even on the main campus map. I had to ask a janitor for directions.

---

I found it behind the alchemy labs, next to the compost heap.

The building leaned slightly to the left, like it was trying to escape the shame of existing. One of the windows had a visible crack. The door had no label, just a sign that read:

"Please do not feed the chalkboard."

I stepped inside.

Silence.

Dust floated in the air like ancient regrets. A few desks, all mismatched. A blackboard with bite marks. And in the corner… a student napping inside a magic circle labeled "DO NOT WAKE UNTIL EMERGENCY."

Welcome to the losers' lounge.

And yet…

For the first time in days, I felt weirdly at peace.

No expectations.

No protagonists.

No tsundere glares.

Just me, and a bunch of magical weirdos who probably smelled like potion fumes and existential dread.

My people.

---

As I took a seat and dropped my bag onto the desk, the chalkboard rattled.

Then began to write:

> "Student Caliban, welcome to Sector Five. You are now officially irrelevant. Congratulations!"

I stared.

"…Thanks?"

The chalkboard erased itself, then scrawled a second line:

> "P.S. There's no way out. Enjoy your stay."

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