Even with the eyes of thousands of girls fixed on him like he was some ancient relic that just blinked, Ren Kisaragi sat straight yet relaxed, his posture calm, composed, and entirely unbothered.
He didn't flinch, didn't crack. In fact, he took the moment to gently fix the slightly wrinkled collar of his pristine white academy shirt, as if he was just out for a morning stroll and had accidentally wandered into a stadium full of hormonal teenage girls.
But inside? Inside, he was calculating everything down to the temperature of the room and the rate at which social anxiety was melting the brain cells of the girl next to him.
Statistically, this was the worst-case scenario for someone like him—being the single anomaly in an otherwise perfectly synchronized social ecosystem.
But for Ren? It was just Tuesday.
Still, even someone as mentally ironclad as Ren had to admit; it was awkward being stared at like he had grown horns.
But he had already expected this.
Here it was. The question he knew was coming. A thousand minds had thought it, but one bold girl finally said it out loud.
Ren's silver eyes calmly found the woman at the stage.
He had already deduced her strength wasn't anywhere near the Azure Decree woman from before—barely 5% of it at best—but her commanding presence still made her voice echo across the stadium like thunder.
And yet, she didn't speak immediately. Instead, she turned to Ren and gave a small nod. It was a chance. Or maybe a test?
He understood.
Taking a breath, Ren stood up from his seat slowly and casually, letting the long silence draw attention to him once again.
A lesser man might've buckled. But Ren straightened his uniform, dusted off an invisible speck of lint from his sleeve, and offered the entire stadium a soft, charming smile that was part polite, part mischievous.
"Hello, fellow weavers-in-training," he said with a relaxed voice that carried easily.
"I know what you're all thinking. Yes, I am, in fact, a guy. No, this isn't a prank show. And believe me… I'm just as surprised to be here as you are."
A few giggles rippled through the crowd, and Ren's eyes twinkled.
"I didn't wake up last morning expecting to be the center of attention at a magical academy full of beautiful women—but here we are.
"So… let's all go easy on the only male in the history of this world to apparently be able to do this whole 'weaving' thing. I bruise easily."
This time, full laughter erupted in waves. The tension cracked like ice under sunlight, and Ren could almost feel the collective exhale of relief ripple across the rows of astonished girls.
The head instructor smiled knowingly and stepped forward.
"Thank you, Mr. Ren. As he just said, Ren is the first confirmed human male in recorded history to be able to attune to the Loom. He is not here by mistake. His presence is not a violation. It is a miracle." She paused. "And I advise all of you to treat him accordingly."
Ren smiled inwardly. She was smart. She was offering him a social lifeline, smoothing the transition, painting his presence as a divine exception rather than a threat.
But she wasn't done. "Now," the instructor continued, turning to the crowd, "as I mentioned before, you will all undergo Affinity Testing by the end of today. Failure to do so will result in a deduction of Orientation Points.
"These points will be calculated at the end of the week to determine your official class placement."
The stadium erupted in murmurs. Orientation points? Class placement?
Ren's mind went into overdrive.
Information flooded in. Orientation wasn't just a welcome week. It was a full-scale competition.
These points would likely decide which class you ended up in. Either the basic class, elite class, supreme class… or that mysterious Imperial Class she'd mentioned before.
Every action from this moment onward mattered.
And so, while many of the girls scrambled to figure out where to go, Ren calmly walked out, hands in his pockets, weaving smoothly into the crowd like a veteran sailor navigating choppy waters.
The crowd still parted for him, curious gazes still followed his every step, but the terrified gasps had faded.
Now they stared like he was some fascinating sculpture in a museum. Still not normal, but at least no one looked like they were going to scream and faint anymore.
Using his photographic memory and sharp instincts, Ren retraced the entire side block layout he'd explored earlier and quickly cut through lesser-known paths.
Within five minutes, he'd already arrived at the testing street; a long corridor lined with identical small buildings that looked like fusion temples and laboratories.
He stepped into the nearest one and blinked.
Hovering above the check-in desk was a glowing wisp. A literal ball of light, flickering and pulsing with electric excitement.
It let out a squeal of joy when it saw him.
"Oh my stars! My first customer! Finally! After seventy-six days of floating in here like a lonely spirit jellybean!"
Ren stared. Then his lips twitched.
"...Jellybean?"
"Yes! That's what I like to call myself. It's cuter than 'Spirit Wisp Type 7-B, Affinity Registrar Model.'"
It zipped up to his face. "You're a boy! A real one! Oh, the rumors are true!"
Ren chuckled. "You heard that too, huh?"
"In every dimension, a version of gossip always exists," the wisp whispered conspiratorially. "It's a constant of the multiverse."
Ren nodded along solemnly like he knew what he bell jellybean was talking about. "I understand you."
He stepped closer to the desk. "I'd like to take my Affinity Test."
The wisp buzzed in glee, then stopped mid-float.
"Oh… yes, yes! Of course! That will be 5 Orientation Points!"
Ren blinked. "It costs points?"
"Yes, silly! Everything here does. Even water refills. This is the Imperial Weavers Academy, not a summer camp!"
Ren let out a sigh, smirked, and reached for the small blue and orange badge tied to his belt.
Early this morning he had confirmed that it was his identification card and also served as storage for his measly orientation points.
Which by the way, he had 200 of them.
"Deduct away, Jellybean."
The wisp squealed again, clapping its tiny non-existent hands. "This is going to be so fun!"
Ren followed the energetic wisp through a dimly lit corridor lined with identical doors on either side, each adorned with intricate symbols that pulsed faintly with a golden hue.
The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and a hint of something floral, perhaps lavender, lending an oddly calming atmosphere to the otherwise sterile hallway.
The wisp, still buzzing with excitement from their earlier exchange, turned to face Ren, its luminescence casting playful shadows on the walls.
"Alright, Mr," the wisp chimed, its voice echoing slightly, "you can choose any room for your Affinity Test. Once inside, try to clear your mind as quickly as possible. Remember, for every extra hour you take, another 5 Orientation Points will be deducted."
Ren nodded, absorbing the instructions. He reached for the nearest door, its handle cool to the touch, and stepped inside.
The room was stark in its simplicity. Black walls stretched from floor to ceiling, each surface etched with glowing yellow runes that seemed to dance and shift when observed directly.
The symbols pulsed rhythmically, casting a soft, ambient light that bathed the room in a warm glow.
The air was notably silent, an almost tangible hush that suggested the walls were imbued with sound-dampening enchantments.
A subtle, pleasant aroma permeated the space and further eased the senses.
At the center of the room lay a small, circular cushion, its fabric a deep indigo embroidered with silver threads forming constellations.
Ren approached it, lowering himself into a cross-legged position. The cushion was firm yet yielding, providing adequate support for prolonged sitting.
He closed his eyes, attempting to emulate the meditative poses he'd read about in various fantasy novels.
However, after a few moments, he felt a slight discomfort creeping into his lower back and knees.
Frowning, Ren leaned back, allowing his body to stretch out until he was lying flat on the cool, smooth floor.
He stared up at the ceiling, the glowing runes casting intricate patterns across his vision.
As much as he admired the romanticized image of a meditative hero seated in the lotus position for hours on end, his scientific background urged him to consider practicality over tradition.
After all, the goal was to achieve a state of deep concentration, and comfort played a crucial role in maintaining focus.
Drawing upon his training as a scientist, Ren took a series of slow, deliberate breaths, allowing each exhale to carry away residual tension.
He visualized his thoughts as leaves floating down a stream, acknowledging their presence but not clinging to any particular one.
Within minutes, his mind settled into a serene emptiness, a void where only the rhythmic cadence of his breathing existed.
Time became an abstract concept as Ren delved deeper into this tranquil state.
The boundaries between his physical form and the surrounding environment began to blur, a sensation both disconcerting and liberating.
Suddenly, a peculiar awareness stirred within him. Despite his closed eyes, he perceived a faint illumination, as if dawn was breaking behind his eyelids.
Curiosity piqued, Ren focused on this burgeoning light. The darkness gradually receded, replaced by a luminous panorama that unfolded before him.
He found himself gazing upon an awe-inspiring tapestry; a vast expanse woven from trillions of delicate threads, each shimmering with its own unique hue.
The threads intertwined and overlapped in an intricate dance, forming patterns that seemed to pulse with life.
Some strands radiated warmth, evoking sensations of fire and sunlight, while others exuded a cool luminescence reminiscent of moonlight on water.
Ren's breath caught in his throat as he realized the magnitude of what he was witnessing.
This was the Loom. This was the cosmic structure that underpinned the very fabric of reality!
Each thread represented a fundamental force, a law of nature, or a fragment of existence itself.
The Loom was both majestic and terrifying, a testament to the universe's complexity and the delicate balance that sustained it.
Transfixed, Ren's analytical mind sprang into action.
He observed how certain threads converged to create phenomena he recognized—gravity, electromagnetism, the flow of time.
Other patterns eluded his understanding, hinting at forces and dimensions beyond his previous comprehension.
The Loom was a living equation, an ever-evolving algorithm that dictated the symphony of existence.
Minutes, perhaps hours, slipped by unnoticed as Ren immersed himself in the study of this cosmic tapestry.
He traced the pathways of individual threads, noting how minor alterations could cascade into monumental changes; a visual representation of the butterfly effect.
The scientist in him reveled in the discovery, hungry to decipher the Loom's secrets.
Without warning, a sharp, resonant crack echoed through the recesses of his mind, shattering his concentration.
A searing pain lanced through his consciousness, and the luminous vision of the Loom fragmented into blinding shards of light.
Ren's body convulsed involuntarily as an overwhelming force surged through him, and darkness swiftly enveloped his senses.