"OMGGGG! Krev has just got it, what are your thoughts about it guys? Would it end officially for the enemy team or will there be an epic comeb—"
On the TV screen, a commentator was shouting excitedly over an Esports match.
There were slight flickers on the screen, as if it were losing signal. On the couch, someone lay sleeping on his back, his right hand over his forehead, covering his eyes.
Perhaps he had a fever. His eyes were half open, staring at the TV sluggishly—eyes void of life.
Yet eyes that could devour life itself.
The screen flickers increased, and the commentator's voice grew distant and more distant in his ears. His eyes were starting to lose the image, trailing it into nothingness.
But the issue wasn't the TV, nor the signal. It was him—his eyes, his ears, the neural signals in his brain.
He shut his eyes to block more of that light, and with his hands, did the same for his ears to mute the noise of that dream.
Maybe it was the last time he'd ever see it. He had accepted his reality long ago, but the dreams still came, reminding him of his roots… of where he came from.
Maybe his soul still belonged to that place.
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Arsene opened his eyes. All he could see was pitch blackness—caused by his dark hair falling over his face. He pushed it back with his hand and got up from the bed.
It felt like he'd been sleeping on gravel… but that was better than nothing—at least it wasn't the floor.
'What is this bed made of? What was it stuffed with?'
Arsene was wondering.
But the answer came quickly from someone lying on the bed next to his.
"Of course it's because Sarl switched your bed while you were out. They'd never give a low-quality one to a Singular."
Arsene faked a smile.
"I'm still not used to you! Still, that mind-reading skill of yours is good."
Clem felt flattered, but there was a hint of disappointment on his face.
"Ah, if only… If things were as you said, I'd be a Singular too and have a good bed.
But my skill only helps me read thoughts from facial expressions, nothing more."
"I wouldn't have known what's going on in your head—your face doesn't show any expressions. But that long stare at the bed gave it away."
Arsene interrupted him,
"No, that's not it. You wouldn't have figured it out just by looking at the bed. What helped you was the fact that you already knew Sarl had switched them."
A little "oh" appeared on Clem's face, but he quickly laughed.
"Ahh, you're probably right. I guess I overestimated myself a bit and forgot…"
Arsene replied, the fake smile still on his face,
"No really, your skill is good. But everything depends on place, timing, and the element of surprise.
If you have all three, facial expressions won't just be a bridge to thoughts—your eyes will gaze straight into your opponent's mind. Not just for a second, but for the entire duration you're locked in. In that state, they won't be able to hide a thing from you, even if they're expressionless like me."
Clem was stunned by what he heard from Arsene. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Maybe… maybe this was the true potential of his skill—seeing directly into the mind.
A loud snore broke his thoughts.
"Grrrrrrhhhhhkk"
Someone was sleeping soundly, his expression peaceful—clearly thanks to the bed he was lying on. He had very short blond hair and an average build.
Clem and Arsene were both staring at him. Clem grabbed his pillow—it was a bit stiff—ready to smack Sarl, who was deep in sleep.
But Arsene gently grabbed Clem's wrist from behind with a smile.
"Let him sleep. Don't bother him. It's been a rough week for him."
Arsene's smile and the way he leaned in sent a chill down Clem's spine—especially that smile, devoid of emotion… and yet, beautiful.
Clem thought Arsene was beautiful. In that sense.
He was the only Singular among the three of them—technically four.
To Clem, Arsene was a good person. Kind, even. But there was something about him that made Clem uneasy for reasons he couldn't quite name.
Maybe it was because he couldn't read him. That's how it had always been.
He'd always gotten anxious around unreadable people—ever since he first discovered his skill… at the wrong time and in the wrong place.
His father had been staring at a woman's Ass while she was buying tomatoes. And in all his innocent honesty, Clem had said it out loud in front of his parents, the woman, and everyone else around.
He was grounded for weeks. His parents got into a fight. And since that day, he'd spent hours peering out his bedroom window, reading the expressions of strangers passing by on the street.
And after years of doing that, he concluded: humans are all pitiful creatures. Himself included.
But this person in front of him—this Singular that came from who-knows-where—was someone from whom he never sensed pity.
He was someone without presence, without expression. A blank canvas, as far as Clem could tell.
But the more he spoke, the more he showed that inside, he was full—overflowing with intelligence and knowledge. With refined emotions and genuine warmth.
There was a massive gap between the outside and the inside. Maybe Clem just wasn't able to see it clearly yet. Maybe it was just his own initial judgment clouding things.
---
Arsene now was fully naked under the gaze of Clem, who was totally shocked and amazed.
"Ohhh wow, you got the size b~but I think it's a lot oversized… don't you share the same thoughts with me?"
Arsene was unfazed by what Clem just said. He was now dressed in black pants and a long-sleeved wool shirt.
He stood at 6'3", black hair mid-parted and flowing slightly, onyx eyes focused yet calm.
He had an athletic build. He was handsome. The pale tone of his skin gave him a slightly devilish charm.
Clem kept complimenting him for his looks—saying he'd be the talk of the place, here and there—but he forgot one important thing: the place they were in was packed with people. Few may stand on the same stage as Arsene, but each had their own story to tell.
---
As Arsene put on his clothes, he smiled toward Clem, "Wanna go have breakfast together? It's on me."
Clem declined politely, "Unfortunately, I can't go for breakfast right now. I have no appetite in the morning, but you could invite this—"
Clem gestured with his eyes toward the sleeping Sarl, but Arsene cut him off, "I invited you because I knew you'd say no. As for him, if I invited him, he'd eat the entire cafeteria."
Clem laughed internally, Looks like his kindness doesn't extend to Sarl. But I kind of get it. Still, he did more than enough. He knew his bed had been swapped but didn't ask for it back last night—even though we've only known him for barely a day.
Arsene closed the door behind him and left.
At the moment, Arsene was on the academy campus, located in the capital of one of the kingdoms that belonged to the One Throne Alliance.
Arsene had been accepted into this academy because of his unique skill.
In this world, there are those who can use magic, those who can push their bodies to their limits—or even beyond.
There are those who can do both.
And there are those who can't do either.
Then, there are others known as the "Singulars."
They possess a unique skill—a gift considered either granted by the gods or born from the intermingling of countless bloodlines until a child is born carrying that rare ability.
But not everyone who possesses a skill is a Singular. And not every Singular has a skill.
To be Singular means to master something no one else can—and of course, something that holds real weight and value.
Arsene was one of those Singulars. Singulars are always considered future pillars in alliances, kingdoms, and empires.
That's why they're treated with a certain level of esteem—especially in this academy: Regis Academy of the One Throne Alliance.
Every year, more than a hundred Singulars are discovered. That number might seem large, but compared to the population and the needs of the alliance, it's tiny. That's why Singulars are handled with care, and alliance resources are poured into developing them.
Arsene was walking through the halls of this academy, which carried the aura of an ancient palace—its carvings and architecture reminded him of something he'd seen in his old world.
But more joyful, more colorful.
The corridors were filled and bustling with students. Every three students shared a room with a bathroom and a kitchen.
Of course, Arsene's treatment was different as a Singular—he would have an apartment of his own. But he had to wait until it was ready.
Arsene entered the cafeteria to have his breakfast. Even though the halls were packed with students, the cafeteria was so spacious that it felt like there were only ten people inside a wedding hall.
There were three cafeteria sections. Naturally, there were some free meals of low quality. You could buy food at a low cost with decent quality. But the truly excellent meals—those that provided enough energy for the whole day—were reserved for the Singulars.
And of course, for the aristocrats.
Arsene was eating a meal consisting of fried eggs, meat, orange juice, vegetable salad, and rice, along with other side dishes.
He could feel the gazes aimed at him—or at least at the food on his table—but he didn't care. Or perhaps he simply couldn't bring himself to care.
As he ate, he thought about his life so far, and whether he really should be here.
The memory of that day was growing more distant with each passing day. Maybe it wouldn't be long before he sank fully into his new identity and forgot the past entirely.
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Wish for a great beginning. Have a good read