Chapter 8

Issac sat on the edge of his dorm bed, staring at the blank ceiling. The room was simple, almost painfully so, but it was clean, and for now, it was his. Whitmore College had been his choice this time around. He had never bothered with college before, in any of his lives. It always seemed like a slow, mundane way to spend the precious time he had between the chaotic events that awaited him.

"You really think going to college will be any different this time?" Alfred's voice echoed in his mind, sounding almost bored. "You could be off doing... anything else. College is for people who have one life, Issac."

Issac snorted, shaking his head. "I wanted something different, alright? Maybe this time, I can just be a normal guy for a while. No guilds, no S-class dungeons, no betrayal or bloodshed. Just... classes."

"Yeah, until you get bored in a week and start causing trouble."

Issac chuckled to himself. Alfred wasn't wrong. The thought of lectures and study sessions already felt tedious, but part of him wanted to see if he could actually stick to something long-term. Maybe there was something to be gained from living a normal life for a bit.

Then again, he knew better than anyone—life rarely stayed normal for long.

As he settled back into the stiff dorm bed, a strange sensation washed over him, prickling the back of his neck. It started out faint, barely noticeable, but quickly built into something much sharper. Issac's eyes narrowed, recognizing the familiar tug of power awakening nearby. But this wasn't just any power—it felt raw, overwhelming, as if the very air was being sucked out of the room.

"No way," Alfred murmured. "You feeling that?"

Issac's stomach twisted. Of course he felt it. He knew exactly what was happening, even if it had been years since he'd experienced it firsthand.

"This is it..." he whispered to himself, standing up quickly. "It's Jaren."

Jaren was just a regular guy in this life—or at least, he had been. Issac remembered now: this was about the time Jaren would awaken. He had hoped to avoid him this time around, to let things play out differently, but fate had other plans.

Issac's feet moved on instinct, heading toward the door, but before he could even reach it, a powerful wave of energy pulsed through the walls, slamming into him like a freezing windstorm. He stumbled back, gasping as the temperature in the air plummeted, frost creeping up the windowpanes, and icy condensation forming on the walls.

"Damn..." Issac muttered, feeling the chill seep into his bones. "He's stronger than I remember."

---

Meanwhile, across the dorm building, Jaren was in the middle of his shower, enjoying the quiet solace it provided after a long first day of college. The hot water beat down on him, warming his muscles, the only sound the steady stream echoing off the tiled walls.

But then the temperature shifted abruptly.

At first, Jaren thought it was just the water pressure dropping. He reached out, adjusting the dial, but no matter how much he turned it, the water remained cold. Then it became freezing—so cold it burned his skin. He yelped, jumping back from the spray, but it didn't stop there. The air around him dropped in temperature, plummeting toward an unnatural chill that sent shivers down his spine.

"What the hell?" Jaren whispered, his breath misting in the frigid air. He tried to step out of the shower, but his legs felt heavy, like they were encased in ice.

The tiles beneath his feet began to frost over, spreading like a living thing, tendrils of ice snaking up the walls and onto the ceiling. Jaren's heart pounded in his chest as the cold spread outward, filling the room with an almost suffocating frost. His body trembled, but not from the cold—it was something else, something deep inside of him, something that felt like it was clawing its way out.

The next wave hit him like a freight train.

A violent surge of power exploded from within him, sending shards of ice flying in every direction. The bathroom mirror shattered under the force, glass raining down on the frozen floor, as the walls themselves seemed to crack and groan. The temperature dropped further still, plunging into sub-zero levels, and Jaren could barely stand under the weight of it all.

"No, no, no..." Jaren gasped, collapsing to his knees as frost spread across his skin, freezing his fingertips. "What... what is this?"

It felt like his blood had turned to ice, each beat of his heart sending a fresh wave of unbearable cold through his veins. His breath came out in sharp, ragged bursts, each one colder than the last. And then, amidst the freezing storm raging inside him, something changed.

A warmth, faint but steady, began to counter the cold.

It wasn't enough to stop it, but it was enough to dull the pain, to give him a moment to breathe. Jaren's hands trembled as he clutched his chest, feeling the surge of energy that had awakened within him, out of control, dangerous, but somehow familiar.

The ice was still spreading, but the warmth lingered, like a lifeline.

"What the hell... is happening to me?" Jaren whispered, barely able to keep his eyes open as exhaustion overtook him.

He felt a presence near him, though no one was there—a comforting warmth in the middle of the freezing storm, like a hand reaching out to stop him from completely unraveling. And then, just as quickly as it started, the power began to recede, leaving behind the shattered remains of the bathroom, coated in a thick layer of frost and ice.

Jaren collapsed, shivering uncontrollably as his body fought to regain some semblance of normality.

---

Outside the door, Issac stood in the hallway, feeling the aftershock of Jaren's awakening. The dorm hallway had dropped in temperature significantly, the frost even starting to reach the edges of the hallway floors. Issac shoved his hands into his pockets, a slow grin tugging at his lips.

"That was... a hell of an awakening," Alfred said, impressed.

"Yeah," Issac muttered, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Guess I've got my work cut out for me."