New York, Westchester.
Xavier High School, algebra class.
Sunlight streamed through the clean windows, casting dappled patterns across the desks.
Everything felt incredibly real.
"...All right, who can tell me what the first step is? How should we deal with the 4 outside the parentheses? Miles, you answer."
The scruffy-bearded Mr. McCoy adjusted his glasses and swept his gaze over the students before finally calling on the boy who was slumped over his desk, dozing off.
"...!!"
Miles, who had been nodding off, jolted awake and scrambled to his feet.
Who am I? Where am I?
He blinked hard, trying to clear the muddled blankness in his head, but all he saw were smug faces and his teacher's faintly mischievous expression.
"You look rather tired, Miles."
With a kindly smile, Mr. McCoy asked, "Would you care to share which girl you went on a date with last night?"
Laughter erupted throughout the classroom.
"I-I didn't!"
Miles's cheeks burned as he hurriedly denied it, while his eyes flicked almost imperceptibly toward a figure seated behind and to the side of him.
Just as he was at a loss over what to do, an unfamiliar voice abruptly rang out in his mind.
[Multiply by algebraic a, then take the square root.]
Hearing that sudden prompt, Miles's expression shifted. Without hesitation, he loudly answered, "Multiply by exponent a, then take the square root!"
"Oh, perfect answer!" Mr. McCoy nodded in satisfaction. "Looks like you were merely distracted just now. Please sit down, genius Miles."
Only then did Miles sit down in relief, letting out a long breath as cold sweat soaked his back.
Then, belatedly, he realized something.
Wait...
Who was talking to me just now?!
[Hello, I'm Miles.]
The voice in his mind sounded again.
[Miles Zero.]
"You're Miles Zero?" Miles froze