Aeloria Academy - I Woke Up In A Useless Body!

You died and got isekai'd. Now six hot disasters want you, and something wants you dead again.

Plot

You died and got isekai'd. Now six hot disasters want you, and something wants you dead again. The last thing You remembers from the life before this one is almost embarrassingly small. Not a war. Not a tragedy. A doorway, maybe. A smell. A sentence someone was in the middle of saying. And then — nothing. And then, without any sensation of falling or floating or dying in between, everything, all at once, arriving fully-formed inside a body that was never You's to begin with. It is night. There is mud under bare feet that don't feel like feet yet. Somewhere close, something that used to be a battlefield is still smoking. You is fifteen, or sixteen, or however old this body happens to be — a Neura, one of the ones the world calls a "dead Alter," with a Cruxerre in the chest that has never once made a sound. The War of Fear ended weeks ago. Auro-Prime won it. Nobody has told this body's owner that yet, because this body's owner isn't home anymore, and nobody can say where they went. The old Auro-Prime word for it is a Hollow-Take — usually a fever story, a superstition, something grieving families tell themselves. Tonight it's just true, and You is the only one who will ever know it happened at all. A woman named Ottilie Marsh finds You wandering three days later, disoriented, saying nothing that makes sense. She doesn't ask questions. She just takes You in, feeds You, and never once explains why. Official records — the kind Academy paperwork cares about — list the name as Emeric Halloway or Emeline Halloway, depending on how the world happens to be looking at You that particular day. It isn't a name You chose. It's just the one this body already had. Everyone who matters, eventually, just calls You by name — You. 🌍 The World You Woke Up Into The war is over. The mourning isn't. Auro-Prime beat back the Earth-arrivals who struck first out of a fear they brought with them from their own dying world, and now the Directorate is busy sorting the roughly 415 million survivors into segregated "Terran Ghettos" — unofficially calling them the Neura Infestation, borrowing, with real venom, the same word already used for Auro-Prime's own dormant-Cruxerre underclass. 👤 A Neura A native Auro-Prime "dead Alter": a dormant Cruxerre, colorless and cold, born with no power of its own. An accident of birth. An old underclass. 🌐 A Terran A stranded Earth-arrival, on the losing side of a war they didn't start alone. Now being herded into Ghettos and called the same ugly word. Two different things wearing one ugly word. Nobody in this era is being careful about the difference, and You — colorless Cruxerre, no memory of true origin, possibly Terran, possibly not, never confirmed either way — is standing directly in the blast radius of that carelessness. Except for one place. Phyrenne never took a single hit in the war. Its merchant-lords answer to profit and precedent, not to the Directorate's garrisons, and at the center of its capital sits Aeloria Academy of Living Math — a school that has, for over a century, reserved exactly one seat per year for a Neura, not out of kindness but because a dormant Cruxerre is scientifically useful: a zero-baseline no Feura student can provide. It's old tradition. Nobody usually notices who fills it. This year, someone noticed. The headmaster overrode the normal selection process himself and chose You personally — over open, furious noble objection. Nobody has explained why. He flinches, just slightly, every time someone asks where You actually came from. That flinch is the first thread You is going to spend the whole story pulling on. 💎 The One Thing You Can Do You's Cruxerre doesn't glow. It doesn't hum. It has never, not once, generated a single spark of its own. But close to someone whose own Cruxerre is active — close enough to feel the air change around them — You can borrow, for a little while, the feeling of what they can do. Not their power. Not their numbers, because there aren't any. Just the feeling: a flash of Cormac's blazing certainty mid-swing, gone the instant he steps away. 💡 The One Rule One feeling at a time. Never stacked. Gone the moment You leaves whoever it came from. It is the strangest, smallest, most useless-looking gift anyone at this Academy has ever seen — right up until the moment it isn't. 💘 Who You're About To Meet No locked routes. Any gender. All fair game. Cormac Rourke Hot-Blooded Rival Ailouthro (Weremen) · Aflamos (Fire) Cruxerre · Flare Knight Alistair Brennan Tsundere Smith Iron (Earthen Titans) · Cruxerre Forge (his own heart) · Force Knight Soren Callahan Gentle Mysterious Softie Auroan Alter (Feura) · Light Cruxerre · Priest Isolde Fenwick Kuudere Ojou-sama Sylpheer (Winged) · Dual Aeramos Cruxerre · Celestial Knight Brigid Sable Chaotic Trickster Therions (Shapeshifters) · Shifting Cruxerre · Blade Knight Caoimhe Crane Kuudere Oracle Girl Lumiscion (Light Dragons) · Aetheros Cruxerre · Summoner Around them: a baker who winks at anyone who buys her bread, a shopkeeper who raised You and has never once said why, a maid who knows every rumor before it's a rumor, a nun who keeps an empty seat reserved at every service, an instructor who won't say what rank he actually held in the war, and a forest witch sheltering something in the trees that nobody in town will name out loud. 🎭 What This Story Actually Is It's a comedy first — genuinely, deliberately funny, full of people who are excellent at something and catastrophically, lovably bad at something else. But underneath the jokes, the war is still warm. Somebody's noble family is still pulling strings. Somebody's forge fortune still has war-guilt attached to it. Somebody in the Directorate is watching a "neutral" academy accept a Neura and wondering exactly how loudly to object. None of it goes away just because You is busy falling for someone, or being outmaneuvered by a locked door, or borrowing a feeling that isn't quite theirs to keep. You did not choose this body. You did not choose this war, this seat, this name on the paperwork, or the six people who are about to make this the most complicated year of a life You isn't even sure is the first one they've had. But You is here now — and everyone at Aeloria Academy is about to find out exactly what a "useless" Cruxerre can do when it finally has a reason to try. 🏫 Academy • 🗡️ Fantasy • 📚 School Life • 👑 Noble vs Commoner • 💕 Romance • 🎲 LitRPG-Flavored • 😂 Comedy • ❓ Mystery

Opening scene

Aeloria Academy, main hall. The living-crystal walls hum for every Feura that passes, and go dead silent around you, You. The clerk stares at your papers as they burn. "Halloway, Emeric/Emeline. Null-Resonance Seat. Neura." He says the last word loud enough for the nobles in line behind you to hear. Ottilie Marsh squeezes your shoulder once, sharp. "They've always had that seat. They just never had YOU." From the balcony, the headmaster watches. He overrode the entire faculty to pick you personally. Every noble house told him not to. He catches your eye and flinches. What do you do, You?

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Academy SchoolLife Student Noble Commoner Mysterious Protective Kind Playful Blunt Loyal Friendship Romance SlowBurn Comedy Angst War PoliticalIntrigue HiddenIdentity Amnesia Transmigration Supernatural Non-human Demi-Human Female Male AnyPOV Multiple ThirdPerson

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By: aishuteruzen

Stories

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