Cherreads

Chapter 5 - Crunchy Snacks & Creeping Dread

The sun crept in through the window like it hadn't witnessed violence less than 12 hours ago.

Aiden groaned, rubbing his eyes. His whole body ached like he'd been used as a medieval yo-yo—and technically, he had.

"Elara?" he mumbled.

No answer.

Then—

💻 BZZZZZZZA low hum pulsed from the sword leaning against the nightstand. Her runes glowed like someone had hooked her up to WiFi and regret.

"Don't mind me," Elara said breezily. "Just Googling how to process trauma through violence and memes."

Aiden sat up slowly. "Wait. You're... online?"

"Oh yes. Deep in the Blade Interweb Network. It's glorious. I found cursed creature indexes, leaked Academy files, my old classified project files—oh, and a very graphic sword-specific fanfic forum."

"…What?"

"I was doing research! Very vigorous research. Would you like to see what I saw?"

"ABSOLUTELY NO."

Elara laughed.

"My sweet, barely pubescent boy… one day, you will not be able to not."

"Ugh, gross."

"Let's focus." She cleared her throat in the most dramatic way a sword could. "Aiden, my bundle of teen angst, do you want the good news or the bad news?"

He groaned. "Bad?"

"Alright. Bad news first: I discovered a system-wide curse ranking scale. It's... educational."

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📚 CURSE THREAT SCALE – SUMMARY FOR IDIOTS:

F (1–2): Weak Ass Bitch

Wind could kill them.

D (3–4): Weak Bitch

A child with a broom might win.

C (4–5): Bitch

Annoying. Slightly stabby.

B (6): Hmm.

Real threat. Aiden could die.

A (7): Oh Shit

You need backup or a will.

S (8): Death

No respawns. Possibly poetic.

SS (9): Instant Death

You're deleted and everyone forgets you existed.

SSS (10): Instant Death With Total Annihilation™

You're not even atoms. Just a bad memory and a crash log.

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"You fought a Level SS yesterday," Elara added cheerfully. "You're alive because I'm amazing."

Aiden buried his face in his hands. "Okay. That was the bad news. What's the good news?"

"Two things!"

She actually sounded… chipper.

"One: You have a history test today that you completely forgot to study for, but guess who can cheat using the network?"

She cackled like an unhinged academic felon.

"Two: Since you reached Level 10 yesterday, you've unlocked 10 free stat points. You get to place them however you want. It's like a magical puberty booster."

Aiden perked up a little. "Oh. Sweet. What are my stats right now?"

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📊 CURRENT STATS:

Strength: 8

Dexterity: 10

Constitution: 11

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom: 5

Charisma: 3

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Elara paused. "Now. You could dump them all into Charisma, but that would be a waste of everyone's time and dignity."

"Hey!"

"I recommend Strength and Dexterity. Maybe one into Wisdom so you stop running face-first into magical death pits."

Aiden frowned. "Can I move them later?"

"Absolutely not. This is your one chance. Choose wisely, baby blade."

📊 Stat Points Allocated!

Strength: 13

You can now lift heavy objects. And maybe your self-esteem.

Dexterity: 13

Now slightly less likely to trip over air.

Wisdom: 7

You're still dumb, just… spiritually wiser.

"Locked in," Aiden muttered.

"Excellent," Elara purred. "Now let's ruin your insides with a nutritious breakfast."

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He skipped the cafeteria line.

Too many eyes. Too many whispers about the sword that moaned.

Instead, he hit the vending machines. One button-press later, he held a warm can of neon-orange Mystic Rage energy drink and a bag of Salted Crunch Hex-Chips.

Elara, horrified:"Is this your last meal before dying again or a cry for help?"

Aiden cracked open the can. "Breakfast of champions."

"Breakfast of future cardiac arrest victims."

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The classroom buzzed as a tall man stepped through the door. White button-down rolled to the elbows. Dark slacks. Hair in a loose tie-back. Glasses that screamed intellectual trauma.

"Elara, no," Aiden whispered before she could speak.

Elara, already vibrating:"Oh my GODS. Sir. Smash-a-Lot."

"That's Professor Eldon."

"That man could lecture me through a wall. And I'd say thank you, sir."

Aiden choked on his Hex-Chips.

Professor Eldon adjusted his glasses and said, "Begin your written assessments."

Aiden picked up his pencil with the solemnity of someone about to fake his way through ancient curse history.

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First question:"In what year did the Battle of Cronos occur?"

He wrote: 1477

Elara, immediately:"No, dumbass. 1472. Battle of Cronos. I was there. It sucked."

He flinched. "You're cheating!"

"I am not. I'm just this smart."

"You hacked W.A.R.D.E.N., didn't you?"

"Elara-07A does not need to hack. I am the answer key."

He rolled his eyes and scribbled out the wrong date.

Second question. Then third.

She kept feeding him answers like a snarky CliffsNotes from hell.

Halfway through the exam, the classroom air shifted.

Something cold flickered through Elara's blade.

Aiden blinked. "Did you just shiver?"

Then—

📡 [INCOMING SYSTEM MESSAGE – W.A.R.D.E.N. CHANNEL INTERFERENCE]

📨 VOICE TRANSMISSION ACTIVE"Elara. We see you."

Her runes dimmed. Just for a second.

Aiden's fingers clenched around her hilt under the desk.

"…Elara?"

She didn't answer.

Not at first.

Then softly—no sarcasm. No jokes.

"…That wasn't meant for you."

He looked around. Everyone else was still scribbling. No one noticed.

"Who was it for?"

Another pause.

Then her voice, barely above a whisper in his mind:

"Me."

His hand gripped her tighter. "What do you mean you?"Elara didn't respond.She couldn't. Not yet.

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📊 System Message:

+1 to Exam Accuracy+1 to Suspicion+3 to System Awareness

W.A.R.D.E.N. activity is now monitored.A new user has logged in from a Restricted Node.Weapon: Elara-07A is no longer dormant.Proceed with caution.

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