"I Was Reincarnated as a Talker, But My Words Can Rewrite Reality"

Class 1-D

The sunlight slipped through the wide windows of Class 1-D, drawing pale gold patterns on the floor. At the very back, Noah sat slouched in his seat, his chin resting on his palm as he stared blankly out the window. His red eyes were half-lidded, glowing faintly under his messy crimson hair.

Outside, men in black suits patrolled the academy grounds, their movements clean, sharp—trained.

Noah's gaze lingered on them.

"They're still here…" he muttered under his breath. "She really does move like royalty."

He wasn't wrong. Celeste Virellian didn't attend regular classes. She had private lectures, her own wing, and her presence turned elite students into background noise. Yet her guards—tall, cold, and suited in black—stood in silent formation until the school day ended.

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Noah!"

Noah blinked and sat up. "Huh?"

Miss Hana stared at him with a raised brow. "Are you even listening to the lesson?"

A wave of laughter burst across the room. Nyre, his seatmate, didn't laugh. She just looked at him silently, concerned.

Noah scratched the back of his neck. "Uh… I think so."

"Then tell me what I said last."

He stood awkwardly. "...Noah?"

A beat of silence.

"Huh?" Miss Hana narrowed her eyes.

Noah gave a lazy smile. "The last thing I heard… was you saying my name."

The class erupted with laughter again, louder this time. A few students even clapped.

Miss Hana paused… then smiled. "You're lucky I phrased that poorly. Sit down."

"Thank you, Miss Hana," Noah said, bowing lightly before sitting. This time, he actually opened his notebook and paid attention.

But deep down, something didn't sit right. A strange pull… as if a storm was slowly making its way toward him.

---

At the Principal's Office

The air smelled of expensive cologne and greed.

Celeste Virellian sat with perfect posture on a velvet-cushioned chair, legs crossed, hands folded. Her blonde hair shimmered under the ceiling light. Her presence alone made the room colder, tighter… dangerous.

Across from her sat Principal Jude, bloated in a too-small suit, his belly practically leaning on the desk. He wiped sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

"Lady Celeste," he said, lips trembling into a forced smile. "Thank you for visiting this humble office. It's always an honor—"

"No need for formalities, Principal Jude," Celeste said, her voice smooth like chilled glass. "Let's get to the point."

He chuckled nervously. "Of course, of course. What brings you here today?"

"A boy," Celeste said.

Jude paused. "A… boy?"

"He disrespected me. In public."

Shock filled Jude's pudgy face. "Wh-what?! A student? That's… outrageous! Doesn't he know who you are?"

"Apparently not," she replied, uncrossing her legs slowly. "But I intend to teach him."

"I can have him expelled—"

"No." Her eyes sharpened. "I'll break him myself."

There was silence. The kind of silence that gripped the throat.

"B-but… you're also a student," Jude said carefully.

Celeste tilted her head. "And?"

He shifted in his seat. "I just mean… it might be inappropriate to involve yourself directly. If your father were to hear—"

"Oh?" she said, standing slowly. Her heels clicked on the tile. "Maybe I should tell my father that the institution he's funding is becoming inefficient. That the staff can't manage one student."

Jude paled immediately. "No, please. That won't be necessary!"

"Good."

She sat back down, uncapping a fountain pen from her clutch. "Place me in his class."

Jude blinked. "W-which class?"

"Class 1-D."

"But that's where we keep… average students. You're elite—"

Celeste's eyes turned to ice. "Are you refusing?"

"No! Of course not! I'll arrange it immediately!"

He rang a bell. A secretary entered moments later. "Bring the student registry."

She flipped through the thick leather-bound book. "Found him. Noah Calden. Not from a noble family. Quiet. Teachers like him, but he avoids after-school programs."

"That's enough," Celeste said.

The secretary left.

"Make the change," she ordered. "Now."

"Yes… right away."

She rose, but not before reaching into her purse. With a flick of her hand, she threw a handful of cash onto the desk. Gold and platinum bills fluttered to the ground like autumn leaves.

"You can use that to polish your floor," she said coldly. "Or hide the cracks."

Jude hungrily dove for the money. But before he could finish collecting it, a gloved hand grabbed him by the hair.

Celeste's face hovered close to his. Her voice became venom.

"This conversation never happened. If even a word of it leaks… I'll remind you who I really am. And my father won't stop me."

Jude trembled. "Y-yes… I understand…"

She let go.

Straightened her uniform.

And walked away, heels echoing like judgment.

---

Outside the Office

The air shifted around her as she walked.

Students bowed their heads. Teachers turned away. Even the wind dared not push her hair.

As she moved, her voice whispered inside her head:

"This city was never built on justice.

It was built on debt… blood… and gold."

"Power isn't earned. It's bought."

"And those who can't afford it… vanish."

"People talk about heroes… about hope. But in this city? Good is just a flavor of weak.

Only the useful survive. Only the dangerous rise."

"Truth is… there are only three gods in this world—

Money. Power. Control.

And in this sinful city of fake dreams and desperate prayers…

Greed isn't a sin.

It's the air we breathe."

She stopped in front of the door to Class 1-D.

Her fingers rested on the handle.

"Noah Calden…

Are you like the others?

Just another fool pretending to be innocent in a rotting world?"

"Or are you something… different?"

---

Class 1-D

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

Every head turned. The classroom fell into stunned silence.

Miss Hana blinked. "Oh… you must be Celeste Virellian."

Celeste stepped in. Light from the hallway painted her like a goddess descending from the heavens. Her blonde hair shimmered, her silver eyes cold and unwavering. A pressure filled the room with her presence.

She walked slowly, scanning each student. Boys straightened their backs. Girls fixed their uniforms. No one dared breathe too loudly.

Except Noah.

He stared at her blankly, trying to remember where he'd seen her before.

"I've seen her somewhere…" he thought. "But where?"

Miss Hana cleared her throat. "Everyone, please welcome Celeste Virellian. She'll be joining us starting today."

Celeste gave a soft smile. "I look forward to learning with you all."

Polite claps followed.

She turned her head toward the back—toward Noah.

Her smile faded.

Her voice dropped into ice:

"There you are."

The students froze. Nyre turned slowly, eyes wide.

Celeste's heels clicked as she approached the back of the room. Each step was deliberate. Threatening.

"From this moment," she said, stopping in front of him,

"your destiny belongs to me."

"Welcome to the institution, Noah Calden."

A strange wind rustled through the windows—though they were all closed.

Noah stared at her, unfazed.

Their eyes locked.

And in that instant…

The war began.

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