Chapter 10
By LittleLYTA
— Super Guardian —
By the time Zack stumbled to the school gates, he felt like his lungs were staging a violent protest. His heart was a steel drum, pounding hard enough to rattle his ribs. Sweat clung to his shirt like glue, darkening the already-faded fabric, and his breath came in short, ragged bursts that made his whole chest ache.
The security sensors blinked red, scanned his ID implant... then turned green with a mechanical click. He staggered through the open gates just as they began to slide shut behind him.
Too late.
He tilted his head toward the sky, eyes half-closed against the glare of the rising sun, and groaned.
Ten minutes late.
At a school like this, that was enough to get you detention, a lecture, or worse — another humiliating call to his sister.
But before he could curse his luck, something inside his head dinged.
[Daily Quest Progress Updated]
[3km Run — Completed ✅]
[Remaining Tasks: 100 Pushups | 100 Situps]
[Time Remaining: 15 Hours, 37 Minutes]
[Reward Pending: +1 Extra Mod Point]
Zack blinked. Then stared at nothing. Then blinked again.
"...Bro," he muttered under his breath, swaying slightly. "Did I just unlock a glorified fitness app?"
For a second, he stood there, stunned and breathless, legs trembling like overcooked noodles. The other students streamed past him, casting him brief glances before disappearing inside the tall glass building like shadows into mist. A few whispered. Some snickered.
Zack didn't care.
He was too busy trying to process the fact that his Spirit System — the same thing that governed survival in the Holy Domain, tracked Spirit Points, showed mod stats, and decided who lived or died — had just turned into a glorified gym instructor.
What next?
[Don't forget to hydrate, king 👑]
He almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve, dragged his legs up the stairs, and muttered, "Cool. Maybe tomorrow it'll remind me to eat my vegetables too."
The funny part was... it was working.
One quest down.
Two to go.
And if he finished before midnight, he'd actually earn an Extra Mod Point. One step closer to staying alive inside the Holy Domain. One step closer to not being the weakest name on the student registry.
Zack exhaled through his nose, the sting in his chest starting to fade. His steps didn't get lighter, but something in his gut felt... sharper.
He hadn't even opened a textbook yet, but the real lesson of the day had already started.
Zack didn't waste another second outside.
He stormed through the front doors like he was being hunted — feet pounding across the marble floor of the lobby, past holographic banners of alumni and gleaming statues of long-dead war heroes. His breath still hadn't fully recovered, but he pushed forward, ignoring the stitch in his side and the dull throb behind his eyes.
The halls were empty. Silent.
The kind of silence that only made the sound of his shoes slapping the polished floor louder, more pathetic.
He turned a corner.
Another.
And then—
BANG.
The classroom door flew open, crashing against the wall.
Heads turned.
All of them.
Zack stepped inside, trying to straighten his back. Sweat was still dripping down his temple. His shirt stuck to his skin. The collar was rumpled. One of his shoelaces had come undone during the run.
"Good morning, sir," he said as calmly as he could.
It came out sounding more like a wheeze.
The man at the front of the class didn't look up from the holopad in his hand. His white robe was pristine. His hair slicked back like polished obsidian. The silver insignia of the Academy shimmered on his shoulder — a gleaming eye wrapped in flame.
Professor Halstrom.
One of the oldest. And the cruelest.
"I assume," Halstrom said coldly, his voice sharp and dispassionate, "that your clock was broken. Or perhaps you were just too busy rolling in a ditch?"
A few students chuckled.
Zack clenched his jaw.
Halstrom finally looked up.
His eyes swept over Zack like a scanner. From his sweat-drenched forehead to the scuffed shoes to the collar twisted half-sideways and the sleeves too short for his arms. The judgment in his gaze wasn't subtle.
"Your uniform is a disgrace," Halstrom said. "Your timing is worse. And judging by your condition…" He raised one sharp brow. "...you look more like a delivery boy who got lost than a student enrolled in this institution."
The laughter was louder this time.
A couple of kids in the front row leaned back, smirking.
Zack didn't flinch.
But something inside him twisted. Not out of shame — that part had burned out years ago. What remained was colder. Sharper. A quiet fire that refused to be smothered, even by sarcasm wrapped in silk.
Halstrom returned to his holopad. "Take your seat, Mr. Tennyson. Before you embarrass yourself further."
Zack didn't reply. He just moved, ignoring the sideways glances and muffled snorts.
He found his desk near the back — the one no one else ever sat at — and slid into the seat, back straight, shoulders stiff.
The classroom lights buzzed above him.
The lesson resumed.
Outside, the morning sun crept higher, the world slowly spinning forward.
Inside Zack's mind, a quiet window hovered near the edge of his awareness.
[Remaining Quests: 100 Pushups | 100 Situps]
[Time Until Reset: 15 Hours, 03 Minutes]
The words glowed like neon ink.
He stared at them a moment longer than he should've... then looked away.