Aster hadn't even properly sat up in the infirmary bed before the questions started.
Not aloud, of course. Not at first.
He could feel it—eyes. Dozens of them. Some curious. Some skeptical. A few reverent. A handful hostile. And all of them were locked on him like he was some strange specimen in a glass cage.
The infirmary outside the main academy building had been turned into a makeshift recovery center. White canopies stretched overhead, fluttering in the soft wind. Students lay in beds, some groaning, others silent. Medics moved like ghosts among them, faces tired, hands glowing with faint magic. And in the middle of it all—Aster sat up like a corpse revived.
He blinked at the sun. Too bright.
A tinge of headache pulsed behind his eyes. He could still taste the coppery aftertaste of dried blood—his own or someone else's, he didn't know. His body ached in places he didn't know had nerves. But it wasn't pain that made his skin crawl.
It was the silence.
The moment he moved, it was like a switch flipped. Murmurs spread.
"That's him."
"The guy from the northern field."
"He killed them all? Alone? No way."
"Wasn't he ranked, like, seventh or something?"
"I heard even the professors were shaken."
The whispers didn't stop. They multiplied, weaving into the humid air like static. Every passing minute added to the mythos.
Aster rubbed his temples. "Great. I survive a demon massacre and wake up to a rumor circus."
[ System Message: Recovery Progress — 71% ]
[ Passive Ability Triggered: Reflex Drift — Sensory alignment increasing. ]
[ Note: Your body is adjusting to your Class Awakening. Temporary instability may occur. Try not to die. Again. ]
He squinted at the message.
"…Thanks for the tip," he muttered, then glanced around.
The field infirmary was huge—easily over a hundred beds, arranged in clusters. Around twenty professors and healers floated between them, healing minor wounds or managing students still unconscious. Students who had only minor injuries sat on mats under shaded trees nearby, exchanging horror stories. The tension was thick.
Aster noticed a line of scorched armor sets and broken weapons laid near a tent—salvaged from the dead. Someone had labeled them. Some names he recognized. Some were just tags that read "Unidentified."
His stomach turned.
It hadn't been a nightmare. It was real.
He remembered flashes—the demons, the blood, the moment he thought he'd die.
And the thing inside him waking up.
The Class Awakening.
His hand instinctively reached for his chest. No wound. He'd collapsed at the northern wall after taking out nearly two dozen demons alone. Most of them weren't even fodder—intermediates, a few elites. It shouldn't have been possible. But it happened.
And the system had rewarded him for it.
"Looks like you're awake."
Aster turned. A familiar voice. Dry, amused.
Leo Crest. Rank 1.
Golden hair tied back, uniform pristine despite the circumstances, and that annoying calmness in his eyes. The same calmness he'd had during the Orientation Trial, when he'd subdued a Warg without lifting a finger.
Behind Leo stood three others:
Selene Vale (Rank 5), arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Michael Flash (Rank 2), lightning sigils faintly visible on his gloves.
Nina Frost (Rank 8), watching Aster with sharp, narrowed eyes.
An entourage of powerhouses. Fantastic.
"Didn't expect you to wake up this soon," Leo continued, stepping closer. "But I suppose we shouldn't be surprised."
"Why?" Aster asked, his voice still hoarse.
"You're a Class Awakener now," Selene said. "That puts you in a… rare category."
Aster frowned. "What do you want?"
"Answers," Michael said bluntly. "How did you survive? What class did you awaken?"
"Did you really kill all those demons?" Nina added.
Aster gave a half-smirk. "Is this an interview?"
Leo chuckled. "Something like that. People are... interested."
Aster looked at the four of them and exhaled. He could lie. But what would that even accomplish? They'd still be watching him. Waiting.
"Honestly?" Aster said. "I don't remember much. Just… rage. Fear. And then everything went blank. When I came to, everything was dead."
Selene raised a brow. "You blacked out?"
"I think so."
A pause. Then Leo nodded. "Alright. Fair enough."
"Just like that?" Aster asked, suspicious.
"We're not the professors," Nina said. "We don't need to interrogate you. Yet."
Michael stared at Aster a moment longer, then gave a curt nod and turned to leave. The others followed.
Leo lingered a second more.
"By the way, you might want to check your system again," he said. "Things… change after a Class Awakening."
And then he was gone.
Aster collapsed back onto his bed.
[ System Interface — OPEN ]
[ Status Update: New Class Awakened — ??? ]
[ Traits Unlocking… Estimated Time: 2 Days ]
[ Passive Effects Active: Reflex Drift (Lv.1), Unknown Aura Suppression ]
[ Combat Log from Last Battle — Available for review ]
He stared at the words. Blank where his class name should be. Traits "unlocking." Passive abilities with vague names.
He closed it all. It was too much.
His stomach still felt hollow.
Nearby, a group of students huddled around a small magical broadcast orb. A voice echoed out—it was Headmaster Yorin's.
"…this attack was unprecedented. We mourn the loss of over 90 students. Investigations are ongoing. The northern quadrant will be sealed for cleansing and reconstruction. Classes are suspended for three days…"
Aster stopped listening.
Ninety.
Ninety dead.
And they were the ones who'd failed to survive long enough for help to arrive.
He'd nearly been one of them.
He glanced around at the dozens of other students who were still unconscious or wrapped in bloodied gauze.
"I lived," he murmured. "But why?"
No answer. Not from the system. Not from fate.
But one thing was certain: He wasn't the same anymore.
Not to them.
Not to himself.