The next day…
The sun burned overhead, its warmth spilling over the city and marking the start of a new day—not that it mattered to the students of Helix Academy, most of whom were still dead asleep behind blackout curtains, cursing the light for daring to exist.
Helix Academy was nestled within Duskfall City, a D-Level High City—relatively small compared to its more prestigious counterparts.
When the Portals first descended upon the planet thousands of years ago, they didn't just disrupt civilization—they shattered the very world.
Mother Earth evolved first.
Just like how we now underwent a Transformation before Awakening an Evolution Class, the planet itself had entered its own transformation. Continents stretched beyond reason. Oceans surged and swallowed entire regions. Landmasses ballooned, like Earth had held its breath for millennia… and finally exhaled.
Nations crumbled like paper kingdoms.
Nearly sixty percent of all life perished in a single night. What followed were cataclysms—meteor showers, abrupt climate shifts, mass extinction events that claimed even more.
Philosophers would later name it the Sixth Extinction Event—or, more dramatically, The Genesis Awakening.
But the silver lining was—humanity survived!
Again!
Most records speculated we weren't meant to. Some believed Awakeners from beyond the planet intervened to ensure our survival. Conspiracy theorists whispered that such beings had ruled humanity in secret ever since.
Whatever the truth, humans crawled through another extinction!
And from the ashes—well, technically, the ice—rose a new world order: the Ascension Era. The High Council emerged as the unchallenged global authority. The old nation-state model was scrapped, replaced with vast High Cities. Even the smallest of these Cities dwarfed the continents of Old Earth. Towering walls encased them, separating civilization from the treacherous Outer Ruins.
In this new age, concepts like Race and Nationalism had all but faded. In their place, a new divide emerged—Class.
Typical humanity. Always finds new ways to separate themselves.
Those born or raised within the High Cities now called themselves High Citizens—God bless their naming sense, and looked down on those from the Outer Ruins and slums as Lower Class.
Of course, The High Council never officially acknowledged the divide, just as racism had never been "official."
The cities themselves were ranked by the strength of the Evolution Portals within their territory. For example, Duskfall had several D-Rank Portals, but not a single C-Rank. So, it was a D-Level High City.
As such, actual C-Rankers were rare here, except the City Lord—and maybe the Academy Dean?
I wasn't certain. But something about the Dean always felt... off.
I walked the Academy corridors in silence, heading to my newly assigned mandatory classes—standard procedure following one's Awakening. My schedule included Combat Training, Monster Theology, Mana Application, and the most important of them all: Genetic Evolution.
Most students found the lectures dull, itching to throw themselves into Portals. But none dared to leave the Academy.
Why?
Because over 70% of Duskfall's Evolution Portals were located inside Helix Academy. Only Students had direct access. Outside, Portals were scattered, fiercely regulated by the Council, and buried beneath miles of bureaucracy. Applications, waitlists, clearance levels—every step a bottleneck.
But us Academy students? We could grow faster, with the only demand being that we attended classes.
I sat through my lectures with the presence of a ghost. Teachers didn't bother calling on me—they just delivered their material and moved on.
By the time lunch rolled around, I made my way to the massive cafeteria and carried my meal to the corner table. I could see it clearly—people hesitating to approach me, even though some of them clearly wanted to talk like before.
I used to be popular. Hard to believe, but I was.
I'd been on good terms with almost everyone on campus. So, it was a little hard for them to give up on me just yet.
Ignoring them, I quietly nibbled down the mana-rich meat and rice. The meat melted as fast as it reached my mouth.
I wanted to eat more, but I had combat class in an hour and didn't want to walk in with a heavy stomach. Reserving my stomach for dinner, I left the cafeteria.
Classroom Arena, 1:55 PM
The seating encircled the inner arena of the classroom, with students scattered across the tiers, discussing their 'Classes' and new skills. I sat in a corner silently, until a particular conversation perked my ear.
"Hey, did you hear about Rowan in the Goblin Dungeon?"
"No, I just heard he's been sent to trauma therapy. What happened?"
"Pfft... I heard he actually tried to tame a goblin by offering it jerky."
"…What?! Did it work?"
"Pfft haha… If it worked, do you think he'd be in therapy right now? Heard the goblin snatched the jerky, ran off, and brought its whole damn village back to demand more. When he didn't have any, they straight up tortured him. I even heard they did some weird goblin ritual on him."
"What the heck... are goblins really that smart?"
Hearing that ridiculous tale, a satisfied smile crossed my face. Rowan had once been my best friend—before he went and slept with my girlfriend behind my back. And now? Now he was the star of a goblin-themed horror story.
I briefly wondered if my silent curse was responsible for Rowan's misfortune, but whatever that case, it brightened my mood a little.
"What is the most important trait needed to survive a battle?"
The voice rang out suddenly, calm but firm… no one had even noticed when she entered the arena.
Draped in a black silk robe, her dark hair tied back neatly, she wasn't the most beautiful woman around, especially with that small scar on her neck, but even I found myself briefly caught by her presence. She looked to be in her mid twenties, though with Awakeners aging slowly, appearances didn't mean much anymore. And truth be told, it was hard to find an ugly one.
She swept her eyes across the students but didn't bother repeating her question.
After a while, someone shouted, "A powerful Combat Class!"
Another voice followed, "Strength!"
Then someone else, "Speed!"
More answers followed, like parrots eager to fill the silence.
She shook her head. "Strength, Speed, Class… they're all just tools. Tools that your opponent will probably have as well."
She began pacing the sand arena with bare feet, her eyes shifting from student to student. "What separates a survivor from a corpse is observation… and adaptability," her voice grew sharper and more commanding.
"You need to control the flow of battle. To do that, you must observe your opponent—their movements, their tendencies… and most importantly, their eyes. Then, adapt."
"I know many of you understand this. But understanding is the easy part. Execution? That's where most of you will bleed."
I listened intently, because I sucked at close combat. So, I wanted to learn as much as possible.
"I'm Morganna," she said at last. "Your new Combat Training Instructor. My classes will be practical. Very practical. Always keep a spare set of tracks in your bag. I know none of you are carrying books anyway."
She smiled sweetly.
"Oh, and buy good quality ones. If they tear mid-spar… well, none of us need to see your family assets making an early debut."
A few students chuckled, but others just stared at her, too stunned by her name than her joke. But Morganna didn't give them time to process any of it.
"All right! Take off your shoes and enter the arena."