A New Dawn
1918 Words
Emmet gasped, snapping upright in bed. Sunlight streamed through the window. His eyes burned.
“Ahhh, my eyes!” he groaned, clutching his face.
His temples throbbed. His vision pulsed with clarity and pain.
He blinked, squinting at the light and the world bloomed.
Colors he’d never seen. Details he’d never imagined. The shimmer of heat, the threads of dust in the air. Ants on a distant tree trunk. The veins of a leaf.
“What... is this?” he whispered.
He pulled out a mirror.
His eyes had changed, deeper, darker. A swirl of violet at its core. Focusing, he saw it glow faintly. On his forehead was a faint visual of another eye.
His heartbeat quickened.
What did I inherit from that deity...?
A knock at the door.
“Emmet, you scared me half to death!” Mara, his mother, pulled him into a hug. “You were unconscious for a whole day and night.”
“I’m fine,” he said, smiling. “Maybe better than fine.”
Mara paused, tilting his chin. “Your eyes... Why are they that color?”
“Lightning. Probably burned something.”
She frowned. “Promise me you’ll see an alchemist.”
“I will,” he said.
While she cooked, Emmet retested his vision. Everything was sharper. His reflexes were faster.
Then…
Buzz.
A fly zipped across the room.
Shoosh.
He flicked his fork without thinking.
Thud.
The fly hit the table. Dead.
Emmet grinned.
That felt... good.
Not just vision. This was something else. Something deeper.
As he stepped into the courtyard, the eye pulsed again, peh, peh. Like an ancient heartbeat.
The change was still happening.
And somewhere deep within his bloodline was changing. He could feel it.
Meanwhile, Jack was no longer in the shared space.
He floated alone in a silent void, adrift in the depths of his own consciousness.
Boom!
Sound and light exploded in his mind. Waves of ancient truths, fragments of cosmic knowledge, slammed into his thoughts. He staggered under their weight.
Then, a massive glass tablet materialized before him, humming with power.
Four glowing words burned across its surface:
Vault of Eternal Insight
The tablet floated in eerie stillness. Jack circled it warily, curiosity mingling with caution. The words pulsed with an age-old gravity.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers grazed the surface, it shifted, scrolling faster than his eyes could track.
Books. Thousands. Millions. Infinite.
Tomes, scrolls, manuals, diagrams, knowledge spanning eras and civilizations.
It didn’t stop.
Jack blinked, overwhelmed.
“This... is my artifact?” he muttered. “The voice said we’d each get something. I thought I’d get a sword, a grumpy old mentor spirit, maybe a cheat system… but I get a... divine reading tablet?”
Darkness pulsed at the edges of his vision. The sheer sensory overload almost knocked him out.
“A tablet? Really?” he groaned. “What am I supposed to do, block flying blades with footnotes? Am I a cultivator or a cursed librarian?”
Still, despite himself, he reached again.
His hand passed straight through the tablet.
Air.
Jack froze. Tried again.
Still nothing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” he muttered. “You give me an infinite library and I can’t even check anything out?”
Frustration flared.
“What do you want from me?!”
No response.
The Vault of Eternal Insight scrolled on. Silent. Unreachable.
Books without spines. A moon without reflection.
He turned away, bitter and hollow.
But just as his mind began to retreat from the space, a small purple button flickered into existence near the tablet.
Curiosity piqued. He pressed it.
Swoosh!
Emmet’s figure blinked into existence beside him.
A second form began to coalesce in the distance, unclear, shadowed, incomplete.
Emmet looked around, disoriented. “Where… is this?”
“I pushed a button,” Jack said. “Then you showed up. And... that shadow.”
The shadow didn’t speak, but turned to watch them, then began drifting closer.
“You’re at Astoria Academy,” Jack added, though he knew that wasn’t the whole truth anymore.
“I was about to grab lunch,” he continued casually. “You’re welcome to join me. We can… figure this out.”
Emmet nodded, still glancing at the shadow. It hovered… and then suddenly merged into his back.
Both of them froze.
Their eyes widened.
Then they said nothing and exited the space.
Jack blinked, staring out the academy window.
It was noon.
Out of the 18 students he’d tried to recruit that morning, only one had accepted.
He sighed.
He was a reborn, a soul from an advanced society in an unknown area of Twindralis. I seemed to have also gone back in time, Jack observed. If he couldn’t outwit people from a martial world, did he even deserve that title?
Still, his success rate, though abysmal, had improved. He was hungry. He and Emmet made their way to the dining hall.
It reminded him of large public schools from his old world, except bigger. Much bigger. The Astoria Academy dining hall could seat ten thousand students at once.
He ordered extra sides and found a quiet table. Emmet, still dazed from recent events, needed grounding. Jack helped him identify a few local dishes, letting him settle in.
They didn’t order anything for the shadow, assuming it didn’t, or couldn’t, eat.
“Isn’t that Teacher Jack?”
Jack glanced up.
A young man with a shark-like smile strolled over, flanked by a group of curious students.
“Teacher Cole,” Jack said, recognizing him instantly.
Cole Xander had joined the academy the same year Jack had. A man who measured success through comparison, always looking for someone to step on.
The previous owner of Jack’s body had cracked under Cole’s subtle pressure. Would have drunk himself to death, eventually, if he weren’t beaten first.
Cole had helped push him off the edge.
“New students are reporting today,” Cole said smugly. “Judging by how relaxed you are, I assume your recruitment is going splendidly. I’ve already signed two.”
He gestured to his fresh recruits.
There wasn’t any official animosity between them, but Cole’s passive-aggressive games had always been razor-sharp.
“Gentlemen,” Cole said to his students, his voice loud. “This is Teacher Jack. He holds a rare honor, first instructor in academy history to score zero on the Teacher Qualification Exam. Impressive, right?”
Emmet blinked. Zero?
The shadow behind him tilted its head toward Jack, silently watching.
Murmurs rippled through Cole’s group:
“Zero marks?”
“I heard one of his students went crazy and almost got crippled…”
“They say picking him is like throwing your cultivation away…”
Jack didn’t flinch.
The failure wasn’t his. It belonged to the man who died.
Still, this was getting old.
“If you’re done grandstanding,” Jack said, “kindly scram. You’re interrupting our meal.”
Cole’s smile thinned. “Zero score. You really have no shame?”
“Shame?” Jack raised a brow. “You said it yourself I broke a record. People remember records. What about you? Did any of your students even know your name before today?”
Cole’s jaw twitched.
Emmet chuckled softly, hiding a grin behind his napkin.
“I don’t know anything about your exam,” Emmet said, “but I do know you flipped a failure into something useful. Smart students can see value.”
He turned to Cole.
“Maybe if you had real talent, you could score zero too.”
Cole’s face turned crimson. The students around him exchanged awkward glances.
He spat, “Teaching isn’t about words, it’s about results. When you actually have students, we’ll see whose teachings hold up.”
Jack didn’t miss a beat. “I already have two, as well.”
Cole blinked.
And just then, a voice floated in from behind.
“That teacher… he doesn’t seem bad. He’s kind.”
It was a girl’s voice.
“Young Miss, please. The young master told me to bring you straight to Teacher Lucien…. ”
“He said I’d be top of the cohort if I trained properly…”
The girl’s face was flushed. She hesitated mid-step.
Cole’s ears perked up.
“Oh?” he said, turning. “Jack, is this girl one of your so-called students? Looks like she’s already having second thoughts.”
The girl, Emily Wright, glanced nervously at Jack.
An older servant stepped forward. “Teacher Jack, our Second Young Miss has chosen to withdraw her application.”
“Uncle Lewis” Emily’s voice cracked.
Jack raised his hand calmly. “Emily. I rarely accept students. But I chose you because I see something. Do you know how many others begged me for a spot?”
He spoke like a legendary master, unshakable and poised.
Emmet nodded. “I wouldn’t be here if my potential hadn’t awakened. You’ll understand soon.”
Emily hesitated.
Jack praised Emmet silently.
Good assist.
“Young Miss,” Uncle Lewis cut in again, “I’ll handle the withdrawal.”
Jack’s voice turned cold. “Withdraw? Think carefully. Backing out leaves a permanent mark. It will damage her chances with other instructors. Can you take responsibility for that?”
Uncle Lewis froze.
Jack’s tone softened. “She has talent. I’ll train her. Her results will prove everything.”
But before the matter could settle,
Cole stepped forward.
“Hold it. I’ll take her. If she withdraws from your class, I’ll personally guide her to the top.”
Jack’s face darkened.
“Poaching a student publicly?”
“Call it competition,” Cole grinned. “Unless you’re afraid?”
Jack rose slowly.
This guy wanted a war?
Fine.
He’d give him one.
“A live teaching match between instructors?”
Jack’s face darkened.
He had inherited the previous Jack’s memories, but they were jumbled fragments, incomplete and out of order. At best, he could recall the cultivation realm basics. As for guiding students or identifying technical flaws? Even the old Jack barely scraped by.
And the current Jack? He was worse.
If this became a real test of teaching skill, Cole would crush him.
“What’s wrong?” Cole sneered. “Too scared to accept? The handbook clearly allows instructor matches. It's a tool for transparency, to help students make informed choices.”
He flicked his sleeves like a smug scholar.
Jack clenched his jaw. “What kind of test are we talking about?”
He knew if he didn’t act, Emily would walk away, and with her, his credibility.
Cole's voice turned smooth, rehearsed. “Let’s keep it simple. Each of us takes a student, since we don’t know them well, we’ll have them perform a basic punching routine. We analyze their flaws, offer corrections, and let them try again. Whoever’s student improves the most, wins.”
Jack hesitated. It was a fair test… and a trap.
That’s exactly why Cole suggested it.
This wasn’t about fairness; it was about humiliation.
“What?” Cole pushed, raising his voice for the crowd. “Backing down? You were just boasting about refusing other students. Let’s see that confidence now. Or are you just here to sabotage this girl’s future?”
Jack’s fists clenched.
He had no way out. Backing down meant losing Emily, his pride, everything.
“…Fine.”
His voice was quiet. But firm.
Worst case, I lose. Big deal. I’ve already survived death, lightning, and divine whispers. What’s a little public humiliation?
- Writer
