The Most Dreadful Moment—Lunch

The most dreadful moment had finally arrived.

Lunch period.

To an outsider, it might seem like a break, a chance to rest and eat. But to me—no, to Elias Astaire—it was a death sentence wrapped in the sound of clattering trays and mindless chatter.

Because this guy is going to get me killed.

My stomach twisted as I made my way toward the cafeteria, my feet dragging against the polished floors. It felt like I was walking toward my own execution, and in a way, I was.

I forced myself to scan the cafeteria before stepping in. My eyes darted across the room, searching for him.

Zaden.

And his gang of idiots.

He was one of the worst people Elias Astaire could have ever messed with. A walking nightmare, someone who thrived on tormenting the weak—especially Elias.

And unfortunately, Elias had a big mouth.

If there was one thing this body's original owner was known for, it was provoking the wrong people at the worst times possible. Elias had zero self-preservation skills, and I was now paying the price for it.

But not today.

Not this time.

I gritted my teeth and veered toward the less crowded section of the cafeteria, slipping into an empty seat tucked into a corner. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but it was safe. The loudest students always took the center, while the more dangerous ones dominated the front.

I let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe he won't notice me here.

If I didn't provoke him, then nothing would happen to me. Right?

Yes. Good plan. Safe plan. I just have to sit here, stay silent, and eat my—

CRASH.

I barely had time to react before a sharp, painful impact sent me flying off my chair. My back slammed against the cold, hard floor, pain blooming up my spine in an instant.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips, but I bit it back, pressing my teeth into the inside of my cheek.

The cafeteria fell silent.

A low, amused chuckle broke through the quiet.

Slowly, I forced myself to look up.

Oh. No. No, no, no.

My eyes widened in pure horror.

Towering over me was Zaden, smirking down like a predator watching his prey squirm.

And behind him?

His entire gang of brainless lackeys, standing like a wall of muscle and arrogance.

"Well, well." Zaden drawled, cracking his knuckles. "Look who finally learned to shut his mouth."

I swallowed hard. But I didn't even do anything this time!

I specifically avoided him!

But of course, this wasn't about what I did or didn't do.

This was about who I was.

And unfortunately, I was Elias Astaire.

The Inevitability of Torment

Which meant that—whether I liked it or not—I was already marked for torment.

I winced as I pushed myself up, my back protesting in pain from the fall. Every movement sent a dull ache spreading through my spine, but I forced a shaky smile onto my face, trying not to look like a complete idiot.

"Uh… Hi?"

For a moment, there was silence.

And then—

Laughter.

Loud, mocking, booming laughter erupted around me, bouncing off the cafeteria walls like a cruel symphony.

Zaden sneered, his gang of brainless lackeys joining in, their cackles filling the air like a pack of hyenas circling their next meal.

I stared at them. Then, out of sheer panic and confusion, I started laughing too.

Oh. Right.

This is the part where I get my face smashed in for no reason.

And then Dante will swoop in, looking all majestic and heroic, saving my pathetic ass just to look even better.

What the hell did I even write?!

I wanted to scream at my past self for making this entire damn academy a nightmare for Elias Astaire.

But before I could even process my frustration—

Zaden moved.

His fist shot up, fast, brutal, aimed straight at my face.

Oh, shit—

My body reacted before my mind did.

In an instant, my hands snapped up, fingers wrapping around Zaden's wrist in midair. The sheer force of his punch sent vibrations up my arm, but—

It stopped.

I stopped it.

Holy. Shit.

For a second, no one moved.

No one breathed.

Zaden's smirk vanished. His gang's laughter cut off abruptly.

I stared at my own hands in pure shock.

No way. No way I just did that.

This body—Elias Astaire's body—was supposed to be weak. Useless. A punching bag for the hero's enemies to take out their frustration on.

And yet—

I had just caught Zaden's punch.

And I wasn't even struggling.