A legend spread across the world: in the year war erupted, an eleven- or twelve-year-old boy stood alone at the battlefield’s heart. Around him lay countless corpses of green-skinned enemies and spears radiating brilliant light across the entire field. They were said to be mere manifestations of his power—the substance forming them seemingly drawn from "that world."

In that battle, fighting for the first time, he single-handedly annihilated every enemy. Yet of all the human forces deployed that day, not one survived besides him.

The aftermath haunted "Preyas" for a full year and left humanity’s military strength deeply weakened. "Preyas" and "Humanity" entered a year-long cold war; neither side could mount large-scale offensives. Only after a year did Preyas break the stalemate with a massive Battleship fleet invasion—but this time, the advance was cautious, deliberate. The war’s tempo had slowed.

Capability Combat Academy trained those who gained abilities after exposure to Wormhole bioelectric waves. Its purpose: forge them into capable warriors for deployment in the "World War." All ability instructors were military Ability Users, each decorated with hard-earned honors. Academic courses were taught by renowned professors of the era. Suspended above the sunken Pacific nation of Tuvalu, the academy was shielded by a quantum force field enveloping the entire campus. Theoretically, none could enter without official clearance.

Indeed, a true sanctuary.

"Ahhh~"

Early that morning, a youth sat on a bench beside the academy park’s fountain. Had it not been for the slightly oversized black-trimmed uniform he wore, his delicate features would’ve easily been mistaken for a girl’s. Waist-length black hair, fair skin, dark eyes, a petite nose, rosy lips—he embodied the classic Eastern beauty. He was the academy’s very first enrolled student: Lixin.

Well—*last* in rankings. And the name sounded undeniably feminine. He’d protested it endlessly, but his parents insisted: they’d wanted a daughter. Since a son arrived instead, the name fulfilled their wish. Flawed logic, yet utterly unassailable.

Additionally, *she* ranked dead last academically—the lowest score in academy history. Habitually lazy: napping in lectures, skipping ability drills. A textbook problem child. Worse, she wore a perpetual dead-fish-eyed stare all day, making conversation near-impossible. A shame for such lovely eyes… One word summed her up: *listless*.

Now, legs crossed, dead-fish eyes glaring, he resentfully gnawed a caterpillar-shaped bread, occasionally checking the academy watch on his wrist. Clearly waiting.

"This guy… woke me up early just to stand me up… I’m gonna kill him."

A soft, feminine voice dripped with murderous intent.

"Munch… ugh… so dry…" Finishing the last bite to no arrival, he pushed off the bench, uncrossed his legs, swayed gently, and muttered skyward: "So boring…"

"Yo~ Is our little sister Lixin pondering life again?"

A teasing voice startled him—he leaped sideways.

"Holy crap, Qin Fan! Are you a ghost?! Scaring someone to death is punishable, you know!"

Qin Fan—the youth before him—was also Huaxia Chinese, childhood friends since the Wormhole energy surge. They’d been affected together, arrived here together. But… Qin Fan excelled academically (solid Class A), with sharp short hair, a lean athletic frame, and a handsome face adored by girls East and West. This irked Lixin deeply. *He* had a beautiful girl’s face. Socially harmless, perhaps—but as the academy’s dead-last student? Few dared approach him.

Post-"startled" debuff, grievances boiling, Lixin lunged to strangle this golden boy.

"How dare you stand me up! How dare you be this handsome! How dare you call me 'Little Sister'! I’ll choke you today!"

"No no no! I’m here! Please! Dad! *Dad!*"

Though a head taller, Qin Fan collapsed under the assault, frantically prying at the small hands around his neck while shamelessly begging.

"!?"

Gasping, Qin Fan flailed—his hand brushed Lixin’s chest. Lixin froze, released him instantly, stepped back, and glared from afar.

"Phew… almost died."

"Believe me," Lixin gritted teeth two paces away, "next time, I *will* kill you." The "opportunity" lost.

Because…

Lixin, eighteen, was currently… female.

Before thirteen, she’d been a cute little boy. During her first official ability use, overexertion sent unstable bioelectric waves rampaging through her body. Cellular and genetic impacts doubled in an instant. By thirteen, her physique had fully transformed. Only her parents, the Principal, her attending physician, and top government officials knew. Even childhood friend Qin Fan remained in the dark… What choice did she have? She’d long accepted it—though a trace of helplessness lingered. *(Congratulations, Mom and Dad—your words came true.)*

Hence the violent reaction. Being discovered was one thing. *Actually touched?* Catastrophic loss.

Twenty minutes later…

Inside a hall resembling a bank lobby magnified fourfold, they operated a terminal at the edge.

"Done. Holiday assignments submitted. Time for a nap. Why no watch upload function? Everyone crowds here—imagine the queue." Qin Fan stretched, eyeing the swelling student crowd while complaining beside Lixin.

Lixin ignored him completely. Exiting, he checked a new watch notification and turned opposite Qin Fan.

"You head to the dorm. I’m stopping by the Principal’s office." He walked off without glancing back.

Qin Fan merely "Oh"-ed. Used to it. He didn’t know why Lixin visited the Principal so often. As a childhood friend, he felt slighted—but knew better than to push. Everyone has secrets.

The Principal’s office crowned the Central Tower. The Principal stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, surveying the campus. Not an Ability User, he’d been a Human military Asia-Pacific general—six years frontline, most decorated honors. A year ago, in a critical stronghold battle, he fought personally, suffered a severe right-leg injury, and retired at forty-eight. Appointed academy Principal by government decree, he ended the military’s direct oversight.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

He didn’t turn. Eagle-sharp eyes fixed outside. "Enter."

*Click.* "Principal, I’m here." Lixin stood before the desk, waiting.

"Lixin… how many times? Outside formal settings, call me Teacher."

"Yes, Teacher." A hint of helplessness in his voice.

The Principal turned. Veteran eyes stern. "I reviewed your holiday combat report. Frankly, unsatisfied. First: lax conduct, using your ability while solo. Second: as your hand-to-hand instructor, I know Preyas-style martial arts don’t suit your condition—but refine your physical skill. Don’t treat it as ability’s accessory. Understand?"

"Yes…" Voice shrinking. Caught.

"Third." Unpausing: "Your power *can* secure swift victory—for you, for the army. But never use it recklessly. None of us… wish for *that incident* to repeat."

Even the Principal’s tone softened. Lixin’s neck bent nearly ninety degrees. "Sorry, Teacher. I’ll remember."

"Enough for now. Go. Three days till semester start—adjust your state."

"Wait."

Lixin, hand on the doorknob, paused and turned.

"Lixin. Stop this. Lift your head. Don’t drown in the past. That incident wasn’t your fault. This path… won’t work."

"…………"

Silent. An imperfect bow. "I’ll go now, Teacher." He stepped out, closed the door.

*Sigh…*

The faint sigh reached his ears. He didn’t want this either. But if not his fault… whose was it?