Transmigrated as an Extra: Awakening of The Ex‐Class'

[Perpective of Cyan]

I lost myself in my thoughts while observing how the sun slowly descended to the horizon. Almost as if the sky was saying goodbye to a long and tedious sigh. The sunset dyed the sky with brushstrokes of fire and wine, a dance of lights that melted in the contours of the clouds, drawing soft silhouettes about the immensity of the sky. It was quite beautiful as if the whole world stopped a moment to contemplate the great wonders that contain it.

In my surroundings, the plants that IVVY had cultivated with such cares seemed that they whispered with the breeze, their leaves vibrating gently as if they also felt the melancholy of the farewell of the day. They emitted a dim light, a greenish replacement that was not entirely natural, but not strange. It was rather as if life itself shone from inside. Some flowers flash with bluish tones that remembered heaven. Asto and beautiful, while others breathe with an almost human pulse, opening just in response to the waning light of the sunset.

The air was impregnated with a unique and eartomous aroma, a mixture of wet earth, nectar and something more difficult to describe ... maybe what makes IVVY is specil. I sat on a wide root that emerged from the ground as a natural throne, letting the silence of the place be leaked by every corner of my body.

"It’s a truly precious view," I murmured for myself, without waiting for an answer. But in my voice an unexpected nostalgia slipped, as if he already knew that this moment was destined to become a memory.

I didn’t know how long there passed. The colors of the sky ended up fading in a plqnta of deep blue and violet shadows. The first stars won weakened as silent witnesses of what he felt. A knot at the Pechl squeezed me gently ..

Finally, I stood up. The slight crunch of the wood under my steps broke the charm of the moment, and I knew it was time to leave.

***

The next morning, the classroom continued to boil between voices that argued with overflowing energy. Students grouped into small circles, whispering, discussing trivialities or who was the strongest in the class. Nothing had really changed. It was as if the world did not have time to rest, no matter what happened in a person’s heart.

I sat in silence in my usual place during the first minutes, in the corner farther from the classroom. The fleeting looks did not wait, as if each of them were waiting for me to do something, say something, confirm their stupid expectations.

But something inside me I can’t take it anymore. Perhaps it was the accumulated fatigue or maybe it was simply that the time had come. I couldn’t keep supporting that farce. I didn’t want to be part of that children’s theater. freewebnσvel.cѳm

With great detail I stood up without saying a word. Each of my steps was firm, echoing against the stone floor as drum blows. At first, nobody seemed to notice. They kept talking, laughing. But as I approached the podium, a tense silence began to form. First one, then another, and another, turned their heads when they saw me climb with a dangerous calm.

I put me in the center of the class. From that position, Ñodia see everyone. More than twenty -five students, some with lively looks, others with disdain. Some fake disinterest. Another simply seemed to laugh at any time.

This time, I was not able to allow it.

"Side me." "My voice was not strong, but firm." A tone that cut the air like a very sharp blade.

Few heads rose. Some eyebrows arched. And then, I released my presence.

The "will of Orochi."

An exclusive ability that had acquired to be a carrier of the snake’s sword, which could not be taught or copied. It was part of me, it grew with me. As if the air had become dense as lead, the atmosphere changed in a blink. The atmosphere around me became oppressive, heavy, as if an invisible storm had been unleashed inside the classroom. The windows vibrated slightly. Some books slid of their desks, and the light seemed slightly, as if the room was swallowed by a shadow that could not see, but feel.

Students who had caused a certain uproar began to shut up one by one. Some shuddered, others clung to their desks. A polar of them began to sweat cold, and more than one fell on his knees, unable to stay under the precion that surrounded his body. It was more than magic. It was pure will. A manifestation of the soul.

When I saw that several were on the verge of fainting, I decided to speak, in impatient voice, releasing the aura while letting a sigh loaded with annoyance escape:

"I will not play this ridiculous game."

And with those words, I withdrew my will.

As if a veil had risen, the atmosphere alleviated immediately. The air flowed again or many innalized despair, without realizing that they had been containing their breath. Some looked, others with amazement. None dared to say a single word. It was not necessary.

I didn’t need to shout to listen to him, just nececited. I didn’t need to fight to demonstrate who he was.

I turned, without waiting for an answer. I let the echo of my presence do what words could not. In his eyes there was no mockery or indifference. There was respect. And fear.

***

[Erwing Perpective]

It was then that I saw him get up.

Cyan.

Remember that from the first day, he had always been distant, as if his tried to maintain a distance or not get tangled up rather feels like a spectator. No one could say that he was weak, but he hadn’t struggled to show anything relevant.

But today, something had changed.

His gaze was no longer the same as always boring. His eyes, usually turned off and melancholy shone with a determination that made, unintentionally, straightened my back in my seat. He walked to the center of the classroom with firm, constant steps, without a single pause.

"Wart me," he said.

I did not raise my voice, and yet his tone had a weight that crossed the mutter of the classroom as a spear. It was that kind of voice that did not need to be strong to impose respect.

Almost immediately more than half of the students turned instantly, surprised by their presence alone. The rest kept talking, unconscious of what was about to happen. I couldn’t look away. Something told me that Cyan was not there just to talk.

And then I felt it.

First, a slight disturbance in the atmosphere, as if an invisible current passed through our heads. Then, his eyes shone with incredible intensity. There was an inner, indomitable light, it didn’t seem human. The following was ... indescribable.

An incredible brown force of him, like the roar roar of a dragon who left all immovable. The air in the classroom became heavy, as if we had been thrown at the bottom of the ocean without prior notice. I felt my lungs resist. The walls, the windows, even the crunchy soil wood seemed to moan in silence under that brutal pressure.

My hands, hidden under the desk, began to tremble. I tried to hide it, but it was useless. A sweat toured my back.

What the hell is this ...?

How is it possible that it has become so strong in such a short time ...?

My breathing became forced. I looked around: Several of the students were already gunned by panting on their desks. Others simply fainted, their bodies falling like wrists without rope when the pressure does not support.

Almost immediately heard Cyan’s voice again:

"I will not play this ridiculous game," he said firmly.

He didn’t shout it. He didn’t even say it with anger. It was rather ... a warning. A sentence.

And with those words, his aura disappeared suddenly, as if it were a dream. The air returned to its natural state, but the sensation was still persistent, like the echo of a storm that had swept everything in its path.

Cyan returned to his seat with the same calm with which he had risen. As if none of this cared. As if not just crushing everyone’s will.

I was still. The classroom, although already breathing again, was still silent. No one knew what to say. No one even dared to look directly.

Me too...

I could only think of one thing.

Necessary to strengthen me faster!

I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know how strong it was right now, what I had seen, what I had felt to achieve that power. But something in me, maybe respect ... or fear, prevented me from opening my mouth.

Today it didn’t seem to be the same.

Subambiente felt totally different.

And although they would never admit it out loud, everyone knew it too.