Upon realizing they had only a limited time to choose their courses, the students’ first instinct was to regroup with their social circles.
*REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!*
*REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!*
*REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!*
However, each time a student stood from their randomly assigned seat, a new deafening alarm blared through the room, layering itself into an ever-growing cacophony, and after just a few hundred of these blasts, the acoustically-friendly auditorium became a Sanctum of Agony. With the exception of the professors, Class A, and Class S, the audience’s eardrums began to rupture, staining the white seats crimson, and by clutching their bleeding ears, the students hastily returned to their seats, one by one, until only silence remained.
”It is forbidden to rise from your seat for the entire duration of the task. That was just a warning. Next time, your transgression will result in an immediate expulsion,” Mrs. De Toulouse revealed to the frightened crowd.
For nobles, their academy years were a unique opportunity to socialize their way to the top of the ’HRE’s’ hierarchy—befriending a powerful Scion by choosing the same courses was a must. Thus, driven by the fear of wasting the most important opportunity of their lives, the students began to scream and wave—each trying to catch the attention of their clique—causing a commotion that now easily surpassed the alarm in loudness. The Future Assignment could be seen as a test that rewarded those who had wisely invested their first week of school, or those able to assert their dominance amid the chaos.
”Finished!” Jacques proudly announced after completing the form in just thirty-seven seconds.
”Are you sure about that, Jacques? We won’t be able to change our courses later on,” Casimir pointed out. Aside from Agronomics, he was struggling to choose from such a wide range of options.
”Being Class F made things easier. So with Magic 101, Alchemy, and Battlefield Logistics being mandatory, we have only fifteen slots left to fill. I picked Mathematics, World History, Naturian Languages, International Law, and Naval Warfare.” The ’Javelinist’ rocketed back in his chair, grinning with satisfaction. ”I chose Math and History so I can skip as many lessons as I want without tanking my grades, and the rest to save my life. If I ever get drafted into some dumb war, I’d rather be on a ship as the only guy who can speak to the Naturians—too valuable to be risked on the front lines.” Connor grimaced, disgusted by his cowardice.
”We can help you with our mother language,” Sahel proposed, enthusiastic about Jacques’s choice. ”How about we find a quiet spot, somewhere far from prying eyes, to meet and study together?” Oshira eagerly nodded her agreement.
”Nah, the Blue Bird Experience will do just fine. Plus, it’s a nice excuse to visit my friends.” Jacques and Casimir exchanged a series of nudges, laughing hard while Derserk frowned at the idea of seeing him so often.
You idiot, that’s the best thing that could happen to us. It’s time to serve your friend my special almond cookies. Eheh!
”I thought you, too, dreamed of accomplishing some glorious feat.” Katrina teased as she finished compiling her paper. ”Immortalizing your name in history, with every man wanting to be you and every woman wanting to be with you. Isn’t that the common dream of the worst half of our species?”
”Who the fuck do you think I am?” Jacques rolled his eyes. ”If there’s one thing money and power can’t buy, it’s privacy—the less people know about me, the better. Once I’m done with this Academy, I’m gonna disappear into some remote village to live the simple life I’ve always dreamed of.” He raised his clenched fist, resolution exuding from every pore. ”Oh right, Casimir, is there any space left on your dad’s farm?” The ’Scarecrow’ gladly nodded, and the ’Javelinist’ warmly embraced his friend. ”You’re my best friend ever, but don’t tell it to Buttserk!”
”It’s Derserk, not Buttserk.”
”Sure, dude.”
”You two, SHUT UP!” Shouted the outraged student sitting in front of Jacques. ”We’re on the verge of making one of the most important decisions of our lives, and I won’t let a Class F ruin it!” He bared his teeth like a stray dog while his thick and reddish eyebrows arched into a furious V-shape.
”Ahem…who the fuck are you?!” Jacques snapped back before leaning to face the unwelcome guest, clearly pissed off after being forced to break such a good hug.
”I’m EE-Class ’Fisherman’ Llywelyn Ap Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch,” the red-haired student declared, and Derserk straightened up at hearing that—he had spent sleepless nights learning how to pronounce that surname correctly. ”I’m speaking on behalf of everyone here—close your damn mouth!” Llywelyn barked, the countless freckles over his face vanishing under the red of his fury. ”No one gives a shit if you want to throw your life off a bridge, just do it in silence!”
Compared to the results of two thousand years of aristocratic eugenics like Connor and Derserk, Jacques might have seemed short. However, next to Llywelyn, he felt like a giant. ”Are you aware that, now, you’re making it worse, Lewis—”
”My name ain’t Lewis!” A high-pitched shriek stopped Jacques mid-sentence. ”Don’t you dare Jankeenize my culture!”
”Sure, sheepfucker.” Jaques beamed. ”Just stop bitching like a little pussy first.” Connor failed to suppress his chuckle. Katrina didn’t even try.
”WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!” Jacques stared triumphantly at the enraged ’Fisherman,’ sneering with satisfaction as the young man’s hands rushed for his neck.
”Stop Llywelyn!” But just as he began to rise, the raven-haired girl beside him grabbed his arm with both of hers, tightening her grip with all her strength. ”He’s deceiving you!” She pleaded, her tone resembling an out-of-tune piano—still pleasant to hear, but with many interruptions that ruined the symphony.
”Eudoxia, why are you defending him?!” He barked, directing his fury at her. ”Didn’t you hear what that bastard just called me?!” She mumbled something unintelligible, then slowly bowed her head—her face vanishing beneath a heavy cascade of curls—and then rain soaked her legs. ”Eudoxia…sorry…I didn’t mean to…” The fire in Llywelyn’s eyes flickered out, andm shocked by what he’d caused, forgot about the quarrel, rushing to comfort her.
”She’s right. No one asked for your opinion, Mr. Hero,” commented a nasal voice coming from the young man seated in front of Jude. ”As always, you’re just forcing your viewpoint on others.” His oblong, sharp, and edgy face was a monument to his pride—utterly devoid of empathy.
”I agree with Roir,” chimed in the student beside Llywelyn. ”Hate must be fought with love, and love only.” His massive size rivaled even that of the ’Scarecrow’ sitting behind him.
”You are big,” Casimir muttered in awe.
”You are big too,” the Class E replied, shaking Casimir’s massive hand with a grin. ”It’s nice to meet you. I’m EEE-Class ‘Refrigerator’ Spurdo Spärde.” And just like that, the two giants became friends.
”Spurdo, stop fraternizing with Class F!” The ’Fisherman’ barked while wiping away Eudoxia’s tears with his handkerchief.
”Why not? If everyone befriended one another, there would be no hate left in the world.”
”You’re Class E! You have to evolve this year, or your future is over! That Class F is going to infect you!”
”I’m planning to return to my homeland after graduation, as the traditions of my people command me,” Spurdo replied calmly. ”You ought to stop chasing petty power. In the end, both the strong and the weak meet the same fate.” Casimir fully agreed, and soon the two giants were deep in conversation, quickly discovering how much they had in common—both were born in rural villages, both came from large families, and both had an uncle arrested for whale poaching. Yet, there was one thing the ’Scarecrow’ couldn’t help but question about his new friend.
”Spurdo…why does your face look so different? It kinda reminds me of that Lawfullian princess.” Despite his blonde hair and blue eyes, the 'Refrigerator's' flat face and almond-shaped eyes didn’t go unnoticed in a room full of Chaotians.
”Kaz, that’s rude,” Carmen whispered in his ear, but Spurdo gently raised a hand, smiling.
”It’s alright. Curiosity is how we overcome fear of the unknown. So, there’s nothing wrong with just asking.”
”In short,” Jacques cut in. ”Chaotia and Lawfullia were once connected by a massive permafrost that stretched across the Boreal Sea, allowing tribes from both continents to mix together. When the ice eventually melted, the people left on either side looked indistinguishable from each other.” Spurdo gave a solemn nod, impressed by his knowledge of his tribe’s history.
After that, Llywelyn lost interest in the discussion, turning his full attention to lifting Eudoxia’s spirits and helping the girl complete her course selection. Jacques took it as a total victory and leaned back to enjoy the moment, until a gentle tap landed on his shoulder.
“…me…see it?” Oshira asked, pointing at Jacques’ paper, and without protesting, the ’Javelinist’ handed it over. The ’Copper Blade’ began filling out her form while repeatedly glancing at his, and after a few busy moments, she held up her paper with both hands, showing it to the ’Javelinist.’ “Same!” A surprised Jacques began calculating the odds of them choosing identical courses among such wide array of alternatives.
”Same goes for me,” Sahel jotted down their options. ”My sister wouldn’t pass any of her tests without my help.” And just like that, the three sealed their academic lives together.
As Jacques turned around, he noticed Connor’s hesitation, his pencil hovering indecisively over the paper. ”What’s wrong, bro?”
”I’m torn between Theology and Philosophy,” the ’Clown’ admitted. ”A Knight is a priest who sacrifices his body to the Holy Trinity instead of his mind. But Saint Maewyin—the warrior monk—had shown that it is possible to reject this dichotomy. Still, times have changed, and maybe I should leave religion to the clergy and try to understand my people as a philosopher king.” He sighed, his dull gaze betraying his uncertainty about the reign that awaited him.
”I’m not sure Theology’s the right fit for you, but whatever you do, avoid Advanced Astrology at all costs—total scam.”
Connor frowned at Jacques’s words. “I’m sorry, did you just say…Advanced Astrology?”
”Before I explain that, do you know what the Romantic Axiom is?”
”One of the three core dogmas of our Trinitarian Faith, it affirms the existence of free will.” Connor surprised Jacques not only with his knowledge, but also with the terms he had chosen.
”Exactly. You mess up, it’s your fault—simple as. But not everyone can handle that idea. There are people who live to enjoy the quick shot of pleasure provided by sinning—like drinking alcohol, doing drugs, joining orgies, etc—but once it’s over, the hangover kicks in hard, tormenting the sinners until the next shot. However, what if I told you there’s a way to sin as much as you want without feeling any guilt?”
”Let me guess. Deny free will?”
”Bingo. Now imagine a giant ball floating in space, dictating your destiny. If your actions aren’t really yours to control, then it’s not your fault. And that’s how horoscope was born—an automated coping machine.
”And how does this relate to philosophy?” The fool still doubted his Messiah’s revelation. But that was okay—he was only human, after all.
”Modernity has stripped the stars and planets of their veil of mystery, and no one truly believes in Astrology anymore. And yet, the need to separate sin from guilt is more pressing than ever. The horoscope’s blueprint needed an update, and, ironically, the very sciences that exorcised its myths provided the tools to create its advanced version.” Jacques raised one finger at a time. ”Biology—your DNA defines who you are. Sociology—your background defines who you are. Psychology—your consumption defines who you are. Hence, modern philosophers are bartenders, mixing statements from these three anti-free-will sources to blend the perfect excuse to justify their clients’ sins. Still not convinced? Pick up any of their books, skip the boring parts, and jump to the conclusion. It’ll read something like—’Thanks to the 2,000 pages I’ve written, this thing you wanted to do anyway is now morally correct’—all frauds!”
”Ahem…I’m not so sure about that…” The ’Clown’ tried to be gentle.
”Really? Then tell me, do you know how many math courses are taught in modern philosophy departments? Zero, while just a few hundred years ago, there was no difference between a philosopher and a mathematician. My point is simple—how can you claim to understand the world when you don’t even know how it works?”
”Oh…you’re right. Then I’m doing Physics!” Connor said, quickly finishing compiling his paper.
Jacques raised an eyebrow. ”You’re trading the love of a faithful wife for one wild night at the best brothel in Beauté De Cristal? Meh, it’s a free country…I guess.” Jacques shrugged, but then remembered Jude was still sleeping. So he turned to Sahel, asking him to slap the back of his neck.
*SMACK!* *SMACK!* *SMACK!*
It took several slaps before it finally worked. “…What?!”
”Jude, you have to fill out this paper.” Without wasting time, the ’Mafioso’ took the pencil, randomly checked boxes for his courses, and went right back to sleep—all in under ten seconds. Jacques rolled his eyes at his act of negligence, but he didn’t care that much, knowing that in the end it wouldn’t be his problem. Instead, he leaned leftward, eavesdropping on a conversation between Carmen and Katrina.
”Really? Theater?” Katrina exclaimed, visibly worried. ”I’m your friend, so trust me. All the important roles will go to nobles, and you’ll end up backstage, far from your dreams of glory.” Her words were harsh, but she knew how things worked.
”It doesn’t matter. I’ve loved the theater since I was a child, and just being close to those beautiful worlds—even from behind the curtains—will be enough for me.” Carmen fearlessly replied, her sweet expression melting Katrina’s resolve. The ’Data Analyst’ clenched her teeth, torn by the realization that protecting the ’Ego Witch’ might also mean being hated by her.
”Come on, life’s too short—let her try.” Jacques chimed in. ”Besides, couldn’t you use your father’s influence to help Carmen get a good role?”
“Better keep your mouth shut because after I win our little bet, I’ll remember things like this.” She reached into her [Inventory]. “Oh, by the way, I’ve got a gift for you.”
“A gift?” Jacques smiled, intrigued, until he read the title on the flyer she had handed him. “Feet Massage Course for Dummies…what?!”
“It might be in your best interest to start training as soon as possible. You know, for your future job.” Jacques closed one eye and raised his opposite brow, grimacing at her poker face.
”Who the hell do you think I a—oh, the first lesson is free! I’m in.” The ’Javelinist’ enthusiastically exclaimed. ”Oh, it’s also for two people. Anyone want to join me?” Jacques proposed, but everyone just whistled. ”Connor? Plz?” After some seconds of indecision, the ’Clown’ ultimately refused to endure any further humiliation.
”You ungrateful leeches! If you ever need a kidney, don’t bother asking me!” Jacques growled, then turned his attention to Llywelyn, waving the pamphlet in front of his face. ”Hey Lewis, want to join me?”
”Why the hell shou—oh, the first lesson is free? I’m in.” The ’Javelinist’ and the ’Fisherman’ shook hands, sealing a second Unholy Alliance. But , once again, a woman made the deal quickly fall apart, as Eudoxia reminded Llywelyn of Mr. Anhogi’s lesson scheduled for the same hour.
”Looks like you’ll be all alone.” Katrina flashed her malicious smirk. ”If you beg me enough, I might join out of pity.”
”Go fuck yourself! Do you losers really think you’re my only friends? Pfft, you wish!” Jacques snapped, then opened his [Contacts.Window]. ”You’re all going to regr—ACK!” Jacques suddenly tumbled from his chair, followed by a scream of pure agony and a heavy thud as he hit the floor.
”Jacques!” Carmen shrieked at the gruesome sight—one of the pencils provided for the Future Assignment was now stuck deep in his eye.
”Astary, for the love of Adam, what have you done?!” From the front row, SSS-Class 'Hero' Chad Rolandsson could barely contain his rage. ”I know you hate him, but…this? This is insane! This is sheer violence!”
”It was an accident…I didn’t mean to,” the 'Shining Star’ mumbled in shock. Astary knew she had done it, and yet no matter how hard she tried to retrace her thoughts, she couldn’t understand why. It was as if her body had acted on its own, guided by some hidden impulse.
Parapraxis.
The Starfolk lady's thoughts went to a word she had read on Seductive Lobotomy.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” Chad said firmly before hurrying to Jacques and gently lifting his head, cradling him in his mighty arms. “Jacques, can you hear me?”
“Why?…What happened?” He whispered through the agony.
“Astary threw a pencil into your right eye. I apologize for her behavior. It was irresponsible and partly…my fault, too.”
“No, no, no…Don’t you dare…the fault is mine alone. My right eye must have—somehow, without me realizing—offended my Queen. I deserved this punishment…my sins shall be cleansed with blood.”
“You’re delirious.” Chad sighed as he carefully pressed his thumb and forefinger around the embedded pencil. “It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. Trust your bro.” The ’Hero’ lowered his head, and the next second, a painful scream announced the successful extraction—the first thing Jacques’ restored right eye saw was the same eerie smile he had seen during his first day at the Miraval Academy
“Is everything okay now?” Jacques simply nodded. “Good. See you later, then.” Chad patted his shoulder and casually walked back to his seat. Next, Mrs. De Toulouse cleared her throat and reasserted control over the auditorium, while the 'Javelinist' slowly rose from the ground.
“Guys, this experience has made me realize that I must open myself up to new experiences. So, I’ve decided to change my courses. Connor, I’m going to ride Griffins with you.”
“You know that you need to own a griffin to join the course, right?”
“Sure, dude.” Jacques waved him off. “Katrina, I’m taking Economics with you!”
“Oh, Adam, please no.”
“Carmen, from today, you’ll have competition—I’m becoming an actor.”
“Congratulations. But, have you ever acted before?”
Jacques gave a tired smile. “Every single day of my life.” He turned to his teammates. “Casimir, Derserk—we’re going to program the best dungeon ever.”
What happens in a dungeon, stays in the dungeon.
Himself couldn’t wait.
Then, without uttering another word, Jacques recompiled his paper before suddenly fainting—a side effect of [Malus.Lobotomy]. As he hit the floor, Oshira leaned forward, glancing multiple times at his revised paper, and once she was done, the ’Copper Blade’ held her own paper above the ’Javelinist’s’ unconscious body.
“…Same!”
