I climbed the stairs to the third floor of Building A and found the classroom with the placard reading "Hero Studies - Professor Reeves" mounted beside the door.
Through the small window I could see circular tables scattered around the room. Four chairs at each one. Most already occupied.
Here we go.
I pushed the door open.
The room went quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that cos from surprise. The kind that cos from curiosity. Every head turned. Every conversation stopped mid-sentence.
Professor Reeves stood at the front of the room near a whiteboard covered in notes about dia training and crisis managent. She looked exactly like the descriptions I half-rembered from the novel.
Tall. Maybe five-eight. Long, wine-red hair fell past her shoulders. The waves were too perfect to be natural. Ruby-red eyes that tracked my movent with the precision of soone who missed nothing. Pale skin. A face that belonged on a magazine cover instead of a classroom. Black pencil skirt that ended above the knee. White blouse with just enough buttons undone to make a statent. Heels that added another three inches.
She smiled.
It was the kind of smile a cat gives a mouse.
"Mr. D’Angelo. Welco. We’ve been expecting you."
Her voice was smooth. Scottish accent softened by years in the States but still present enough to notice.
"Thanks."
I scanned the room for an empty seat.
Most tables were full. Groups of four already ford. Already comfortable with each other.
Then I spotted one table with an open chair.
Aurora sat on one side. Dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Green eyes that flicked toward before looking away. Nolan sat beside her. ssy black hair and that earnest expression that probably made him the teacher’s favorite in every class he’d ever attended. And across from them sat a girl I recognized from this morning.
Purple hair cut short. Sharp features. Grey eyes that narrowed slightly when she saw looking.
That’s the other one who glared at earlier.
Great.
Professor Reeves gestured toward the front of the room.
"Before you sit down, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class? Give everyone a chance to know who you are."
Of course.
I walked to the front.
Fifteen students spread across four tables. All eyes on . So curious. So suspicious. Aurora looked at her hands. Nolan smiled like we were already friends.
"Ro D’Angelo. Transferred in today. Looking forward to the sester."
I stopped.
Reeves raised an eyebrow.
"That’s it?"
"What else do you want?"
A few students laughed.
Reeves leaned against her desk and crossed her arms, a movent that strategically emphasized the fit of her blouse.
"Tell us about yourself. Hobbies. Interests. Goals."
"I work out. I eat well. I’m trying not to fail calculus."
More laughter.
Reeves smiled wider.
"Fair enough. One more question before you sit."
"Sure."
"What does being a hero an to you?"
The room got quieter.
This was a test.
I could feel it.
It wasn’t a question with a wrong answer, but it was designed to make you show your hand.
I thought about the system quest sitting in my peripheral vision. The countdown tir ticking away. The harem ending requirent that sounded like a bad joke except it wasn’t.
I thought about Nolan sitting at that table with his genuine smile and his earnest eyes and his pure-hearted protagonist energy.
And I said what I actually believed.
"The one who wins."
Soone snorted.
Another student whispered sothing to their neighbor.
Nolan’s smile faded slightly.
Aurora looked up.
Reeves didn’t move. Just watched with those ruby eyes like she was cataloging the response.
"Interesting. Anyone care to disagree?"
Nolan raised his hand.
Of course he does.
"I do."
Reeves gestured toward him.
"Go ahead."
Nolan leaned forward.
"Being a hero is about saving lives. It’s not about winning or losing. It’s about doing the right thing even when it’s hard."
Several students nodded.
I looked at Nolan.
"How can you lose and still save lives?"
"What?"
"If you lose the fight, the villain wins. If the villain wins, people die. So how does losing save anyone?"
Nolan frowned.
"It’s not that simple."
"Sounds pretty simple to . You either win or you don’t. And if you don’t, soone else pays the price."
The purple-haired girl spoke up.
"So you’re saying results are all that matter? Nothing else?"
I turned toward her.
"I’m saying history books are written by the people who win. Not the ones who tried really hard and lost anyway."
Nolan shook his head.
"That’s not what being a hero is about. It’s not about being rembered. It’s about making the right choice in the mont."
"And what happens when your right choice gets soone killed?"
The room went completely silent.
Aurora was staring at now. Not with anger. With sothing closer to confusion.
Nolan’s jaw tightened.
"That’s not fair."
"War isn’t fair. Villain attacks aren’t fair. Gates opening in the middle of a city aren’t fair. But the person standing at the end gets to decide what was right and what was wrong."
I looked around the room.
"You think the villains we fight believe they’re doing the wrong thing? Most of them think they’re justified. They’ve got reasons. Motivations. Whole belief systems built around why their actions make sense. And if they win, their version becos the story everyone tells."
The purple-haired girl crossed her arms.
"So you’re saying there’s no such thing as right and wrong?"
"I’m saying winners write the rules. Losers don’t get a vote."
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