Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

The knock on Sherry’s door pulled me out of the deepest sleep I’d had in years.

Outside the walls, sleep was a negotiation. You never fully let go. Some part of you stayed on, monitoring. Sounds, shifts in air, the specific quality of silence that meant something was moving nearby. I had slept like that for as long as I could remember.

Here, my body had apparently decided it was safe and completely clocked out. No negotiations. No monitoring. Just gone.

"It’s time, darling." Miss Brown’s voice through the wall.

I sat up fast. Took a second to remember where I was. Clean room. Bed with actual sheets. Hogsby, right.

My eyes swept the room automatically. Corners, doorframe, window. No threats. No infected. Just a room that had the audacity to be completely normal. Old habits.

"I’m about," Sherry called back, already alert. She’d been up before the knock. Of course she had. I could hear her moving on the other side. A drawer opening. Cloth shifting.

"Abram?"

"About," I called, voice still rough.

I scrubbed my face, brushed my teeth, which remained a privilege I refused to treat casually, and dressed from the box. Black trousers, white shirt. Same as yesterday. Same as apparently every day going forward. Outside, different clothes had meant someone else’s clothes. A uniform was not a hardship. I stepped out.

Sherry and Miss Brown were already waiting. Sherry had her hair down, white shirt, black mini skirt, the standard school clothing worn like she’d chosen it herself. I noted this and stopped noting it.

"Good morning," Miss Brown said.

I had heard the phrase before. Never directed at me. Never first thing in the day like it was simply how mornings worked.

"Good morning," I said. It felt new in my mouth. Good new.

****

Miss Brown walked and talked with the efficiency of someone who wanted us informed before anyone else could get there first.

"You’ll be joining the advanced group. We used to wait until students burned out completely before intervening. Now we bring people in at level four. Earlier intervention. Better outcomes."

"Do they level up?" I asked.

She paused just slightly too long. "We’re about to find out."

Which meant: we think so but we’re not certain and this is technically still an experiment. Good to know. Reassuring. Absolutely fine.

"What causes the drop in the first place?"

She smiled pleasantly and said nothing, which was its own kind of answer. Find out yourself. Either she didn’t know, or she’d decided that was information we were supposed to arrive at on our own. Neither option was fully comfortable.

***

The classroom had twelve students already seated when we walked in. They all looked at us. Not subtly. The full, open assessment of people who had been expecting something and were now evaluating whether it matched. Ten girls. Two boys.

Ten girls, I thought. In one room. This school was designed for me personally.

I scanned the way the plain had trained me. Exits. Faces. Threat levels. Alliances. Except this time the threat assessment had a different purpose entirely.

Two girls in the front row. Dark hair. Twins, clearly, moving in the coordinated way of people who had never needed to develop individual instincts. They looked at each other before looking at me.

[Annabelle: Pyrokinesis, level 4. Isabelle: Cryokinesis, level 4. Twin dynamic noted.]

Package deal, I thought. My life isn’t complicated enough.

A blonde girl near the middle. Dimples. Empty locker beside her, positioned like an invitation. She made eye contact and smiled before I’d even fully looked at her.

[May: Probability manipulation, level 4. Priority candidate.]

She smiled again. That was two smiles before introductions. Either she was naturally warm or she could already see where this was going.

She stays on the list.

A dark-skinned girl leaning back in her chair like she owned the room. No smile. No hostility. Just watching everything with the calm of someone who had already evaluated the situation and reached conclusions.

[Mable: Illusion creation, level 4. Guarded. Will require patience and pursuit.]

Patience, I thought. Fine. She goes to the top of the list specifically because of that.

A larger girl toward the back, arms crossed, not making eye contact with anyone.

[Synchronization potential: Observe first ]

Noted.

Two boys. One built like a wall. One smaller and watchful. Not relevant to my current objectives.

I moved to the back where two empty lockers sat together and sat down. Sherry followed without discussion. She had attached herself to me by default, which I understood. I was the only person she knew here. It wasn’t a compliment exactly. It was geography.

"Good morning," Miss Brown addressed the class. Practiced unison response. People who had been doing this a while. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"This is Miss Sherry and Mr. Abram. Make them feel welcome." She left before anyone could ask questions. Smart woman.

A tall man in a coat entered shortly after. Citizen tag on his lapel. Middle aged, glasses, the bearing of someone who had been teaching long enough to stop being impressed by students.

"Professor Bagins, for those who don’t know me." He looked at us when he said it, which confirmed that everyone else already knew him and this was for our benefit. "We’ll do introductions. Names and abilities."

He worked around the room.

The twins. Annabelle and Isabelle. Pyrokinesis and cryokinesis. They finished each other’s sentences. Efficient. Probably lethal together. Noted for later.

May. Probability manipulation, level four. She smiled at me again when she said it.

[May. Confirmed level 4. Objective: pursue.]

She’s either interested or she already knows what’s coming. With her ability, probably the same thing.

Mable. Illusion creation. Quiet confidence. She didn’t smile. She didn’t need to. I respected that and added her to the top of my mental list accordingly.

Wells, the big boy. Combat enhancement. Energy projection. He said it like a statement of fact, no performance.

Mute. Level three teleportation. Lowest in the room. He caught me clocking his level and looked back steadily. I understood that look. I had worn it my whole life. Lowest of the low, learning to be unbothered about it.

Then Sherry. "Sherry Vayne. Healing, level four."

Then me. "Abram Nadez. Healing, level four."

Professor Bagins nodded without ceremony. "Practical session. Training room. Abram, Sherry, you’ll observe from outside the glass since you’re new."

The class stood. Sherry stood beside me and we moved together without deciding to.

Ten girls. Three months at Hogsby. The system had handed me a list and a timer.

I was already planning.