The Unnatural World

All of them were behaving weirdly.

First it was Ashton and Nantos, acting like we were old friends. Then Zaden, who once treated me like dirt, apologized. And now Dante, the one I couldn't quite read—he was trying to play the peacekeeper?

Did they all plan this out together? Was this some twisted joke?

Zaden muttered an apology, barely getting the words out before dragging himself to his bed and flopping down like a sulking child. Oh, he hated every second of that. And that gave me more satisfaction than I'd like to admit.

"Good that you apologized, Zaden." Ashton said casually, leaning back on his bed beside mine. "Because we all thought you were really out of line earlier."

"I thought the same." Nantos added, his voice small, almost swallowed by the room. He looked scared, but at least he had the guts to speak.

"Let's stop now." Dante said, eyes flicking across us like a general keeping order. "They've cleared things up already. No point bringing it up again. We're roommates. Friends, even. We should try to understand each other from now on."

Friends? My lips curled in a bitter smile. Right. As if nothing ever happened. As if this wasn't the same place where fists and blood spoke louder than apologies.

I scoffed and shook my head.

Their eyes snapped to me immediately, like predators sensing a shift in the air.

"Sorry, guys." I said quickly, brushing it off. "Old habits die hard, you know? I'd like to sleep. My food's still not digested, and your words are just making it worse."

Without waiting for a reply, I got up and walked to my bed. The sheets were cold. I laid down and turned away from them, shutting my eyes even though sleep refused to come.

---

I couldn't sleep.

My mind was a mess—filled with too many questions, too much noise.

What the hell is happening to me?

I was never good at fighting. Elias—the version I created—was weak. A stepping stone for Dante's rise. He wasn't meant to shine. He was meant to suffer, to be ignored, to fall. But now… I had taken down Zaden and his gang. How?

And still… it didn't matter. Not in Astarst Academy.

Because here, it wasn't just about fighting. It was about mana—how strong it is, how well you control it, how creatively you use it.

And me? I sucked at everything.

I clenched my fists under the blanket.

Why did I make this world like this?

Why did I build this insane place filled with everything I ever wanted?

Mana-infused martial arts. Complex spell structures. A full education system—math, sciences, history, politics.

I even added the kind of classroom rivalries and twisted friendships that felt 'real.'

And then I created Astarst Academy.

The greatest academy in the entire world. An elite institution for the chosen few.

Every kingdom, every clan, every major family wanted their children here.

It wasn't just about prestige. It was survival.

Astarst trained students not only in combat and mana, but also strategy, elemental theory, enchanted weaponry, and real-world politics.

It was the gateway to power.

Graduates became generals, warlords, council leaders—even kings and queens.

Fail, and you returned home forgotten—or worse, used as a pawn by stronger families.

And the dorms?

Let's just say they weren't built for comfort. Each room was a test of tolerance. Enemies sharing beds, rivals sharing desks. A constant simmer of tension.

But if that wasn't bad enough—The world outside the academy was worse.

A place where mana dictated status, not wealth or birth.

Clans ruled cities. Empires rose and fell based on power levels and magical abilities.

Even commoners could rise—if they had the right talents or artifacts. But it was cutthroat.

Every region had its own system:

The North was ruled by old mana families with strict bloodline laws.

The South focused on raw combat—gladiator arenas and mana duels.

The West was a land of scholars and inventors, mixing technology with magic.

The East held the most mysterious sects—illusionists, shadow walkers, curse weavers.

Astarst sat right in the middle of it all.

Neutral, yet powerful.

A ticking bomb of ambition, potential, and chaos.

And I made it.

I made all of this.

Why?

Was I trying to live a fantasy? Or punish myself with one?