Chapter 82: Chapter Eighty Two
Three teenage boys walked out of the class building, the afternoon light catching the dust kicked up by a hundred departing feet.
Kai, Aaron, and Jude had just finished their combat class. It had been one week since resumption.
"I’m heading to my next class." Kai dapped them up, already half-turned toward his divergence point. "See you guys next ti we have combat."
"I have classes as well." Jude’s sigh carried the particular weight of soone who had accepted his fate but was not required to enjoy it.
"You get to attend only one class." Kai groaned. "If I’d known, I would have just stayed in combat class."
"Fool." Aaron feinted a smack at Kai’s head. "Do you think I just go to my dormitory?"
Kai ducked—dramatically, with the full-body commitnt of soone who had been dodging this exact smack for years.
"See you later, guys." Aaron waved as he walked away. "I’m going to rest for an hour before I head to the training grounds."
"Aish." Jude gave Kai a side-eye that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken complaints. "You just had to bring up that you attend more classes."
"What?" Kai spread his hands. "You attend three. I’m not saddened. We’ve handled this. Aaron’s just being a studious student. It’s not that deep."
Jude shook his head, but the smile underneath was real. "See ya."
He waved without turning back, the gesture casual, the dismissal final.
Kai watched him walk away, smiling.
Then his face settled into sothing closer to its resting state.
"I really need to watch what I say." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Aigoo. I’ll apologize later. I’m late."
---
Kai was heading to the A-ranked ability class. He had made it to S-class in the Combat field, but his talent in ability could only take him to A.
Jude, by contrast, was in S-class for all his fields—Magecraft, Ability, and Combat—the last of which he’d placed into with the least effort. Not that the others were hard. For him, all he had to do was attend the entrance ceremony, and S-class was guaranteed.
Talent.
The sa talent that had separated him from his friends as they had now "grown." The trio branching out, establishing new dynamics. They had to make new friends. How else would they blend in, make fewer enemies?
Even if Zeke was antisocial, he had taught them that.
---
Speaking of teaching and making friends: Zeke’s S-class of weirdos, over the past week, had been tasked with making friends—with themselves and with the rest of the academy’s students.
At least, that’s how they consoled themselves after not having seen their professor since the day he introduced himself.
The class had tried searching for him. The only na they knew was Vaughn. Sadly, the students they’d made acquaintances with had no knowledge of their professor.
Nyssara had cald them down with a theory: Zeke wanted them to make friends, learn about the academy, read, and show effort that they were worthy of their talents. When they had done that, then Zeke would show up.
Thus, the class embarked on friendship quests.
---
They created the Twin Stars of Destruction—plus a nominal mber, the actual twin to a mber of the destruction club.
Sam and Dean Winchester. And Kenshin Arashi.
Naturally, Dean and Kenshin were the Twin Stars. They made sure to leave a ss of the training grounds whenever they entered.
Kenshin would imdiately search for the strongest person present and request a spar—as far as sudden attacks counted as requests.
Dean would look for the prettiest girls. et them. Flirt with them.
A douchebag would arrive, try to stop Dean. Dean would swat him away. A bigger fish would co.
Kenshin would swoop in, drag Dean into the fight fair, and it would turn into a 2v[whoever was foolish enough to fight them].
They made sure not to kill anyone, though.
Well, Sam made sure they didn’t kill.
Once in the library, Sam would loom toward the corner where he’d left his brother and his oddball friend. If he didn’t see them, he would imdiately run to a training ground.
It happened more than once a day. He had even roped in the most social group—Aelric, Virelle, Seraphin, and Zephyr.
Now, when the group saw Dean and Kenshin, they would threaten to snitch to Sam.
That worked a number of tis. Twice. Before they decided to fight and flirt to their content before Sam interrupted them.
Now the whole class was in on stopping them.
Sorry—were in on stopping them.
Soone had hit Virelle’s sore spot.
He called her a girl.
A girl she was. She just had to show him the type of girl she was.
Aelric couldn’t let his friend fight alone. He joined in.
Which earned praise from Kenshin and Dean.
"We wondered when you would join in," they had said.
Soon enough, it turned into a class-versus-class fight.
Even the librarian—Sam—had to join in.
Nyssara tried to calm them down. She was t with a very annoying "thanks."
She was attacked by students. She had no choice but to show them that she was as crazy as her classmates.
Rhaegar had a great ti watching them fight. But when Nyssara started getting overwheld, he had to jump in—earning a tongue stuck out at him.
Nyssara had baited him to join.
Seraphin had to support "girl power." She was roped in by Virelle.
Virelle simply moved all her fights to Seraphin, then moved both their fights to Nyssara.
Thus began the won’s revolution of the class of weirdos.
"Aren’t you joining in?" Zephyr asked Daemion as they stood together.
Daemion turned to face him. Shrugged. "I’ll fight if you fight. It’s the only logical way not to be the one left out."
"Logic?" Zephyr smiled. "That’s how you’re deceiving yourself into having fun?"
He picked up his newsboy cap, tossed it into the air—
And countless wooden swords appeared from a portal, sniping mbers of the opposing class.
Daemion watched. Smiled. Rolled his shoulder.
And joined the fun.
---
"Are these the kids you left for the immortal to teach?"
The brown-haired man stood before the old man’s desk, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.
Nox stroked his beard, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "If it were you, would they have as much chemistry as they have now?"
"They’ve destroyed training grounds. Disrupted the training of other students."
"When was it an angel’s job to care how my academy fared?" Nox’s voice didn’t rise, but sothing in it sharpened. "Castiel, your job was bringing them to . What happens while they are in my world is my business."
He let the pause stretch.
"Rember—you serve . I don’t serve Heaven."
Castiel’s jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly.
"And your superiors would not want you interacting with them that much."
"My apologies." Castiel inclined his head, the gesture precise, controlled. "I was more concerned about the immortal than them. The Winchesters are not the only students in his class, after all."
"No matter." Nox waved a hand. "However he pleases to teach, he teaches. His trial depends on it, after all." A beat. "And right now, he’s doing fine."
"You seem to trust him a great deal."
"He has yet to let
down." Nox’s smile widened, just slightly. "And so things are not to be ntioned."
"Of course."
Nox waved him away.
His eyes drifted toward Zeke’s office.
---
"Hey, Zero. What day is it?"
{ Monday, you fool. It’s officially been a week since you’ve gone to class. }
"A week?" Zeke’s voice carried the affronted disbelief of a man being asked to confront uncomfortable truths. "Surely you jest. It’s been three days."
{ You didn’t go the days you planned on going. You slept off. }
"Lies." He waved a dismissive hand at the ceiling. "I simply planned my lesson in my dreams."
{ Mm-hmm. }
"Now I’m ready. I’ve got the curriculum arranged. I think."
Zeke got up from his bed, padded to the bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror.
Dried spittle on his face. Hair a ss.
"When did this happen?"
{ When you slept. Obviously. }
"I don’t look good." He turned, already making a beeline back toward the bed. "Maybe I’ll go tomorrow."
{ Zeke Vaughn. Use cleansing magic. Wear your fancy clothes. And go teach those kids. }
"Okay, okay." He raised both hands in surrender. "Don’t use parent voice on . One would think I’m the personal assistant here."
---
"Okay." Zeke clapped once, surveying his reflection. "I look presentable."
He blew a kiss at the mirror.
"Ti to head to class."
He paused at the door. "What did the feed say the kids did today?"
{ After the masterclass fight they had last ti, they’re all in the classroom. Nyssara made sure they didn’t move. If you don’t co by today, they’ll head to the library as a group—with all attention on the Twin Stars of Destruction. }
"Told you that nickna was catchy."
Before the academy had resud, Zeke had used the leftover parts from building the consoles, TVs, and mobile phones to construct drones. These drones were then handed to Zero for monitoring—his students, plus the trio whenever he had ti.
He was the one who had spread the nickna "Twin Stars of Destruction." All he had to do was pitch it to Nox, and the old man had done the rest.
How did he pitch it?
He murmured it in his room. The voyeur definitely heard him.
"Well." Zeke straightened his collar. "I’ll have to make an appearance. Wouldn’t want to stress my lovely Nyssara."
A pause.
"What do you think of making her class representative?"
{ You’ve already made your decision. }
"You know
best."
---
The class of weirdos sat in their classroom. The most social group had gathered together—only this ti, the rest of the class was in close proximity. Occasional conversation fests rippled through the room, everyone participating, everyone waiting.
"Ahh, I’m so bored." Dean groaned, letting his head fall back. "Alissa is waiting for ~"
"We have to wait for the professor." Virelle’s voice carried the particular edge of soone who had explained this multiple tis and was running out of patience. "One more hour. If he’s not here, we’ll head to the library. How many tis does Nyssara have to tell you the sa thing, Dean?"
"Bah." Dean waved a hand. "Who asked you, you tomboy?"
"Eh?"
Virelle stood up, ready to launch herself from her seat.
Seraphin caught her arm, holding her in place.
Clap. Clap.
Zeke stood at the front of the room, his smile wide, his hands still together from the clap.
"Why are the lot of you so lax?" His gaze swept the room, touching each of them in turn. "Virelle—didn’t you notice the person you were jumping toward had straightened up?"
A beat of silence.
"Class is in session, kids." His smile widened. "Let’s have a pop quiz."
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