Oliver stood frozen.
His arms were still raised over his head, shielding his face, like he was expecting to be crushed or incinerated. But all he heard was… rustling cloth. No screams. No explosions. Just a weird, echoing silence.
Slowly, he opened one eye.
And immediately frowned.
'...Where the hell am I?'
The classroom was gone.
Instead, he was standing in a massive, open hall — bright, polished, and definitely not his high school. The first thing he saw straight ahead made him freeze even harder.
A massive statue towered over the room, ten meters tall at least. It was a woman — no, a goddess, judging by her pose and the way the room seemed to glow around her. She had long flowing golden hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back, and a soft, faint smile on her lips. Eyes closed. Peaceful.
But her outfit — if you could call it that — was another story.
Thin white fabric clung to her chest, just barely covering her massive stone breasts, the nipples practically poking through. Her hips were wide, legs crossed, and the way her fingers rested on her thigh made her look more like a courtesan than a saint.
She wasn't carved to inspire reverence.
She was made to turn people on.
Even in stone, she radiated something… overwhelming.
'Seriously? You're telling me someone carved this and said 'yeah, this is holy?'
Oliver couldn't stop staring. His knees felt weak just looking at her.
'This feels less like a church and more like a hentai game cutscene.'
He tore his eyes away and looked around.
The room was gigantic — like a cathedral ripped from a fantasy RPG. The floor and walls were pure white stone, polished to a shine. Massive pillars stretched up to support a domed ceiling, with glowing blue crystals embedded in the arches. Everything was pristine, glowing faintly, and expensive-looking.
The whole place screamed: not Earth.
'Am I in a church? Some fantasy temple?'
All around him, his classmates were just as confused.
Some were still on the floor. Others stood frozen like mannequins, eyes wide, jaws open. Even the loud kids, the athletes, the flirty girls — everyone looked like they'd just woken up from a coma.
Oliver scanned the crowd. Familiar faces.
Everyone from Class 3-C. The same students who'd been in the room when that glowing red shit started. The same ones who had screamed, vanished, and now… were here.
'So we were all dragged into this... together.'
He was about to say something out loud — maybe just to hear his own voice — when a sound echoed across the room.
A voice.
Female. Calm. Rich. Like honey and silk and thunder all at once.
"Welcome, heroes summoned from the Otherworld... We greet you in the name of Lunera."
Everyone turned toward the voice like puppets on strings.
And there she was.
Standing at the base of the statue was a woman. A real one. Alive, breathing, radiant.
The woman standing before us had long, silver-white hair that spilled down her back and curled near her wide, curvaceous hips. Her eyes were icy blue — piercing, cold, but still beautiful. Her skin was pale and flawless, almost glowing in the soft light of the hall. And her dress…
It was long, white, and far too thin to hide much. The fabric clung to her body like it had a personal vendetta against modesty. Full, heavy breasts swelled against the tight neckline. The dress dipped low, showing off smooth shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs that peeked out through high slits on either side.
Every guy in the room audibly gulped.
The girls — even the confident, popular ones — stared in silence, jaws tight, some blinking like they'd just seen their boyfriend drooling over a Twitch streamer.
She wasn't alone, either.
She wasn't alone.
Dozens stood behind her — men in plate armor with crests on their shoulders, women in mage robes that sparkled like they were stitched with stardust, old priests clutching glowing scrolls, and one guy who looked like a king straight out of an RPG cutscene.
It felt surreal.
Too clean. Too big. Too perfect.
"Am I on the set of some big-budget medieval movie?"
As my head spun trying to process everything, the silver-haired woman raised her hands.
She spoke again, her voice soft but commanding.
"I am Selene." Her accent was strange, like someone trying to speak perfectly even if it wasn't their native tongue. "You have been summoned here... by divine will."
That made a few people blink.
She looked straight at us, face gentle but serious.
"Our world, Lunera, is on the brink of ruin. The Demon Army grows stronger with each passing moon. Cities have fallen. Kingdoms have burned. Humanity is losing this war."
Murmurs spread among the students.
"To turn the tide, we turned to the goddess. The Oracle of Synthia revealed a path: summon heroes from another world — champions destined to wield powers never seen before."
Her voice trembled slightly — either from rehearsed desperation or actual emotion.
"And so, by the goddess's will, you were brought here. Each of you carries a unique power waiting to awaken. We… beg for your help."
"Beg?"
That one word echoed in my head.
This regal, impossibly beautiful woman — the type of figure that looked like she should be stepping on peasants in a painting — was asking a group of high schoolers to save her world?
The silence cracked.
"I-Is this for real?!"
"Did she say demons?!"
Some kids were shouting. Others laughed nervously. A few looked ready to pass out.
The chaos was building fast.
People talking over each other, pushing, stepping back — even Ms. Graves looked shaken, trying to keep her own composure while clutching the edge of her skirt like a lifeline.
"Everyone please calm down." Selene spoke up, "I know everyone must be flustered. Why don't we move to somewhere and discuss this calmly."
No one objected at that.