Chapter 1 – Ticking Into Nothing
I died screaming.
Not exactly how I imagined going out.
It wasn't dramatic or poetic, and it sure as hell wasn't dignified. There was no final message, no cinematic slow fade to black, no mournful music. Just fire. And the stench of melting skin. Mine.
I'd love to say I died saving a child from a burning building or rescuing an old lady's cat. Truth is? I think I died because someone wanted me dead.
And maybe… maybe I deserved it.
But this isn't about who I was. Because the moment my lungs collapsed and the pain swallowed me whole, something changed.
I woke up. Not in Heaven. Not in Hell.
But in a room.
A sterile, white, curved room — like the inside of a giant egg. There were no walls, no corners. Just whiteness stretching endlessly in every direction. No source of light, yet everything was visible.
And in front of me stood… a clock.
A grandfather clock, if I had to guess. Polished black wood, silver gears, old-fashioned Roman numerals. It was ticking. Slowly. Loudly. Obnoxiously.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
And then it spoke.
"You were inefficient in your previous timeline."
"…What?" I blinked. I was naked. Probably dead. And apparently being insulted by a piece of antique furniture.
"Error-prone. Emotionally compromised. Morally inconsistent. Fascinating."
The voice was smooth. Not mechanical, not quite human either. It was cold, yes, but not cruel. More like… curious.
"Okay, thanks for the roast. Can I go now? Or is there an afterlife Yelp review I need to fill out first?"
The hands of the clock rotated backward, unnaturally fast, spinning in circles until they stopped at 12.
"You will be repurposed. Your psychological structure, while flawed, contains variables of interest. You will be reborn into Timeline 17-A1. Mission parameters: Observe. Adapt. Disrupt the systemic equilibrium."
A pause.
"You will also be granted… me."
The base of the grandfather clock cracked open. A flash of golden light surged out and spiraled toward me like a ribbon of fire, striking my left palm. It burned, but I didn't scream. Not this time.
When I looked again, the world around me blurred. A thousand sounds slammed into my ears — conversations, music, traffic, birdsong — all in fragments. My skin turned cold, then hot, then cold again. My heartbeat slowed to a crawl.
And then everything went black.
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes again was the ceiling of a moving bus.
The vibrations under my seat told me it was on the highway. My body felt… younger. Lighter. And my mind — my memories — were jumbled.
The only thing I knew with certainty?
I wasn't me anymore.
I looked down at my hand. There it was — a sleek, metallic device embedded in my palm like some kind of high-tech tattoo. It resembled a classic analog watch, complete with a ticking second hand, but there was no strap. No way to remove it. I tugged on it instinctively.
Nothing.
"Good morning, Kazuki Hanabira," the voice from before echoed faintly in my mind.
So that was my name now.
"Chronos," I muttered under my breath. "Still stalking me, huh?"
"I am not stalking. I am observing. And advising. And mocking you, occasionally."
"Great," I sighed. "An AI watch with personality issues. Just what I needed."
I shifted in my seat and turned toward the bus window. The Tokyo skyline blurred past us in the distance. Students were chatting quietly around me — some dressed neatly in uniforms, others more casually. The bus looked new, high-tech even. Seats with extra legroom. Mood lighting.
Then it hit me.
This was Advanced Nurturing High School.
A chill rolled down my spine, though the air conditioner hummed gently above.
This wasn't just some made-up world. This was Classroom of the Elite.
Which meant I was going to be surrounded by geniuses, manipulators, sociopaths, and at least one disturbingly emotionless boy who could probably dismantle the government before lunch break.
Wonderful.
"Kazuki Hanabira…" I said again, trying the name out loud this time. It didn't feel right in my mouth. Not yet. But it would have to do.
I glanced at the seat beside me. Empty.
But not for long.
A girl slipped into it just as the bus turned. Straight black hair. Sharp eyes. Neat uniform. She didn't glance at me. Didn't even acknowledge my existence.
Horikita Suzune.
I knew her face from the stories. Cold, calculating. A perfectionist who carried herself like she was too good for the air everyone else breathed.
Kazuki, meet the iceberg.
I leaned back in my seat, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She was typing something on her phone — probably texting Ayanokouji to tell him how beneath her we all were.
She noticed me looking.
"…What?"
I gave her a small smile. "Nothing. You just have that whole 'please don't talk to me' aura going on. Very effective."
Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "Then stop talking to me."
So much for small talk.
"Your social instincts remain poorly optimized," Chronos observed.
"Yeah? And your timing still sucks."
The bus arrived on campus thirty minutes later.
We filed off one by one, luggage in hand, and were directed to a large auditorium where orientation would begin. I took in the surroundings — the towering glass buildings, the immaculately trimmed hedges, the polite yet mechanical staff in gray suits.
Everything felt… perfect.
Too perfect.
Inside the auditorium, I found my name on the Class 1-D list. The lowest class. The dumping ground.
Predictable.
As I sat down near the middle, I noticed Horikita a few rows ahead. And off to the side — a smiling, bubbly girl with light brown hair chatting animatedly with other students.
Kikyo Kushida.
Now that one was dangerous in a completely different way.
And finally, slouched in the back corner like he was physically allergic to effort, sat Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
Chronos ticked once in my head.
"Observation phase begins now."
I exhaled slowly and let my eyes drift shut, pretending to rest.
But in my mind, I knew the truth.
This world wasn't a reset.
It was a test.
And this time, I was going to cheat the hell out of it.