The goddess, whose name be Lyra, smiled benevolently upon the group of bewildered students. "Now," she announced, her voice ringing with
celestial power, "as a gift, a token of your entry into Aethel, each of you shall receive a unique skill. These abilities will aid you on your journey
and help you unlock your hidden potential."
A ripple of excitement, mixed with apprehension, went through the group. Lyra began to bestow the skills, one by one. A shy girl who often hid
behind her books received the ability to communicate with animals. A lanky boy who dreamed of adventure was granted enhanced agility and
refexes. Another student, known for their artistic talent, gained the power to bring their drawings to life. Each skill seemed perfectly suited to
the individual, a refection of their inner desires and hidden strengths.
Finally, Lyra turned to the group of bullies, their leader standing front and center, a sneer still lingering on his face despite the otherworldly
circumstances. He was the one who had delighted most in the torment of others, the instigator of their cruel games. A ficker of unease
crossed his features as Lyra approached, her expression unreadable.
"And you," she said, her voice soft but frm, "shall receive… God's Sword, Rank S."
A collective gasp echoed through the room. God's Sword? Rank S? The whispers started immediately. They knew enough about fantasy stories
to understand the implications. An S-rank skill, especially one with such a powerful name, was beyond comprehension. It was a legendary
ability, a weapon of unimaginable power.
The bully's eyes widened in disbelief. The sneer vanished, replaced by a look of avarice. He felt a surge of triumph, a confrmation of his
superiority, even in this strange new world. He had been given the greatest gift of all. He could already feel the power coursing through him, the
imagined weight of the divine blade in his hand.
But Lyra's expression remained unchanged, her gaze fxed on the bully. There was no hint of approval or admiration in her eyes, only a quiet
intensity. The other students, even those who had participated in the bullying, felt a prickle of unease. Something about this gift, so powerful, so
seemingly undeserved, felt… wrong. They couldn't shake the feeling that this was not a reward, but something else entirely.