"So," Amara said through a mouthful of bar, "did you hear about the gate expedition on Wednesday? They're taking the first years to explore their very first one. Apparently it's a big group, so they're recruiting people from our year to come help."
Julien looked up. "Gate expedition?"
Ray nodded. "Yeah, it got mentioned at breakfast this morning. Some D-tier gate popped up east of the cliffs. The scouts took a look inside. They said there were plenty of monsters, but all weak ones. Instructors decided it's the perfect opportunity for the kids to 'get acclimatized.'"
"And that year group is too big for just instructors," Amara added. "So they want us to act as guides for them. You know, take a handful of kids and make sure they don't walk into a poison trap or get eaten by a bush."
Haley leaned forward, interested. "How many are going?"
"Almost all of them, from what I heard," Ray said. "Which makes sense, right? First gate's a big deal. They'll want everyone to go through the motions."
Oh, I remember this. There were some older students helping. Me and my friends got assigned to an instructor though, but still, it was pretty exciting.
A D-tier gate. Easy enough. But Ian had never been there. Not in his memories. It had been one of those unremarkable training exercises--the kind no one even thought about a few weeks later.
This didn't happen for Ian. If I choose to go now, something has to change. Who knows, this might set off a whole different chain of events, hopefully avoiding his "villain" or "dead" fates.
"I think I'll join," Julien said.
Amara looked surprised. "Didn't expect that from you. Aren't you usually too busy to concern yourself with little kids?"
"I just think it might be interesting," he replied evenly. "Besides, I think I've got some free time then anyway. Might be fun."
Ray squinted. "You really think a field trip with fifteen-year-olds'll be fun?"
Julien smiled. "You never know."
Haley tilted her head. "It's not a bad idea. I'll go too. Better than another double-length strategy lecture."
Ray made a dramatic groan. "Guess I'm in. If I get stuck with some crybaby toddlers, I'm blaming all of you."
"They're not ordinary students," Amara reminded him. "Asanel's the top Marked academy in Rainian, remember? They don't let in just anyone."
"Yeah, yeah," Ray muttered. "Still wouldn't mind a gate that doesn't involve babysitting."
Julien leaned back in his seat. He wasn't quite sure why he had spoken up so quickly. Given that Ian most likely wouldn't have carelessly jumped in, it couldn't [Character Guidance]. Perhaps the thought of doing something Ian never did gave him a sense of control. As if he could change the course of events before they started.
What if I was brought back as him not just to find out what really happened, but to keep Inferno from ever becoming a threat?
"Sign-ups are tomorrow, I think," Haley said. "Instructor Wells said they'll assign groups to fifth-years based on ability and general temperament. Makes it easier to handle emergencies, if anyone panics."
Ray rolled his eyes. "What's the betting pool on how many kids try to 'accidentally' awaken something higher mid-gate?"
Amara smirked. "You mean like you tried to do in our first year?"
"That was research," he said firmly. "And it almost worked. But of course the instructor just had to see me at the worst moment."
Haley reached for another bar from the shelf, tossing it toward Julien. He caught it without thinking. "You'll probably end up with one of the top groups," she said. "Maybe even the S-tier kid."
Julien shrugged. "That'd be interesting."
It makes sense. Put the strongest with the strongest.
He remembered being with his friends that day, confidently powering through every enemy that came his way. They'd treated it like a game, back then. An easy sweep with a few good kills and a pat on the back from the instructor. They'd even made jokes on the way out, comparing their loot drops and arguing over who had the best score.
"Anyway," Amara said, brushing crumbs from her lap, "the weaponry's got a new shipment in. I was gonna head over, check if they've got any new mage staffs. Mine is pretty worn."
"Ooh, good idea," Haley said, already standing. "I need new arrowheads. Ray broke two of mine last week."
"They were in the way," Ray said, unapologetic.
"You threw your spear behind you."
"And it was still in the way."
Amara waved a hand. "Come on. Let's go before they get picked clean."
Julien followed as the group made their way down the corridors and outside to the path to the weaponry. A few other students passed them going the other way.
"They really are letting everyone come along for the expedition, huh?" Ray muttered as they walked. "Even the ones who nearly failed battle tactics in the entrance exam."
"They'll be grouped carefully," Haley said. "And watched closely. Instructors aren't idiots."
"Still feels risky."
Julien stayed quiet, watching a younger student run past them, clutching a slip of paper and a wrapped pair of gloves. He looked maybe sixteen, excited.
That used to be me, Julien thought. S-tier, head full of theories, chasing assignments like they mattered more than anything else.
They stepped into the weaponry building. It was filled with noise--students calling out gear requests, instructors and professors inspecting enchantment marks, sparks flying in controlled bursts from behind reinforced glass.
Haley peeled away toward the archery racks, and Amara started asking a junior assistant about specialized staffs. Ray leaned on the counter beside Julien, drumming his fingers idly.
"So," he began. "You really gonna play mentor for a bunch of kids?"
Julien glanced at him. "Why not?"
Ray shrugged. "Just didn't expect it, that's all. You're already at the top. Feels like something the rest of us would do to look good on a report."
While pausing to reply, Julien grabbed a pair of reinforced gloves off the shelf next to him. They were tagged for standard-issue, mid-tier swords and skills. They appeared to be usable, but nothing special. In his hands, he flipped them over.
"I'm not doing it for the report," he said. "Just want to help."
"Of course you do, Mr Saint," Ray repeated, laughing.
Before Julien could say anything else, Haley reappeared with a narrow box tucked under one arm. "Archery rack was almost empty, but I got the last of the good steelheads."
"Unfair," Ray said immediately. "I get blamed, but you hoard them like a dragon."
"Maybe I wouldn't have to if someone didn't treat my quiver like it's public property."
Julien set the gloves down and turned toward the back of the hall. A couple of instructors stood near a rack of prototype weapons, going over a clipboard and marking off test results. One of them--Instructor Ryllis, he realized--was the same one who'd taught him during that short archery elective years ago.
She was still the same. Sharp voice, sharper eyes. The kind of instructor who didn't tolerate half-effort.
Julien took a step in her direction, then stopped. She would only know him as Ian. No connection, no shared memory. That was a strange thing to get used to.
Haley looked over, catching his change in attention. "Are you thinking of grabbing something new?"
"Maybe," Julien said. "I might as well check out what they have, while we're here."
"You're worse than Ray," Amara called from the staff counter. "At least he pretends he'll actually use it"
Ray grinned. "I do use everything I buy. Once, at least."
Julien wandered toward the front racks, where rows of standard-issue swords were laid out in neat rows. Most were steel-forged, practical and well-maintained, without enchantments or mana infusions. They were simple, sharp weapons for students who needed reliability over flash. Nothing fancy. In fact, his own first proper sword was just like them.
He stopped in front of a display of longswords. His fingers brushed the hilt of one, testing the weight without lifting it. It felt almost familiar, but he didn't know how to describe it. The closest thing he could think of… was nostalgia.
From behind him, Ray made a confused noise. "Wait, are you actually looking at swords?"
"Since when are you interested in those?" Haley asked. "You've never even taken any melee combat electives."
Amara joined them a second later. "Not that he could," she said, shrugging. "His arms are as thin as a pencil. They'd snap if he ever tried to seriously swing one."
Julien stepped back from the rack.
"I was only looking!" he protested. "Is that such a big deal? You guys are sooo judgmental."
"No, we aren't," Ray scoffed. "Just wondering why the guy who doesn't even need a mage staff is suddenly checking out a sword."
He walked away from the rack before they started to get suspicious. He could still feel the familiar shape of the hilt under his palm, though it hadn't even left the rack. That muscle memory didn't belong to Ian, but it hadn't vanished.
With his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the distant wall and watched the silent flicker of mana through the display cases. Guess it takes more than a new body to unlearn a whole life.
At the counter, Amara had already started questioning the assistant about staff types, and Haley returned to comparing arrowheads. Ray muttered something about "sword phase crisis," but didn't bring it up again.
He could cast circles around most of the instructors now. But none of it was his.
Everything worked perfectly, including the mana flow, the pressure, casting abilities, and spells. Ian's body was accustomed to everything, even the slightest movement. Julien didn't need to make an effort.
It's still wrong. What if I can't adapt fighting styles? I can fool them with words, but actions are something else entirely.
[Character Guidance] continued its job, making each of his sentences smoother. Not a single thing slipped. When they joked, he grinned, nodded as he should have, and followed without question.
He was playing Ian flawlessly up to this point. He had essentially received all he required from the system. It gave him free power and acted on his behalf.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? Julien hadn't earned any of it. The spells, the reflexes, the memory of how much mana each cast would take--they came automatically.
Despite his immense talent he'd been born with,, Julien had discovered early on that skill was useless without work. He had witnessed others train daily, giving their all to improve, only to plateau at B-tier or lower. He had always pushed himself because he wanted to show that he was worthy of being strong.
It wasn't his strength, though. It belonged to Ian. Years of refinement, control, and calculation all gained from a different life. And now, without doing a thing, Julien had it all.
I didn't build any of this, he thought. I just woke up and took it.
He couldn't erase the unease. Like he was cheating someone out of what they'd fought to achieve. Even if Ian was dead, even if Julien had to take his place… that didn't make it right.
I have a feeling I'll be struggling with this for a while.