"Hiyori Yamamoto."
I stepped forward.
No hesitation. No expectations.
The floor beneath me lit up again — smaller this time, more focused. A circle etched with symbols that looked like they were trying to explain something I wasn't supposed to understand yet.
A thin plate of light formed in front of me.
Not solid.
Not liquid.
Just… there.
I reached out.
The moment my fingers touched it, something moved inside me.
Like a system booting up.
Text burned into existence.
Name: Hiyori Yamamoto
Job: Forge Weaver
That was it.
No fanfare.
No dramatic glow that made people gasp.
No sudden pressure bending the air.
Just two words.
Forge Weaver.
"…Huh."
Not from me.
From the room.
It wasn't silence. It was that half-second pause where people didn't know how to react yet.
Then the noise came back, low murmurs spreading like ripples.
"…Forge what?"
"Is that… like crafting?"
"Wait, that's not a combat class, right?"
There it was.
Not ridicule.
Not yet.
Just uncertainty.
I pulled my hand back slowly, eyes still on the fading plate.
Forge Weaver.
The words sat heavier than they should've.
Not because they sounded weak.
Because they sounded incomplete.
The murmurs grew as the ceremony continued, classmates already clustering and whispering about the big reveals.
"Man, Reiji got Holy Sword Saint? That's straight-up hero tier."
"Yeah, and Kaito pulled Holy Knight. Those two are gonna carry us."
"Damon got Archmage too. Bro's spells are gonna be insane."
Someone else chimed in, voice carrying a little louder. "Don't sleep on Armani though. She got Holy Healer — top-tier support. We're actually set with her keeping everyone alive."
"And Clara? She pulled Shadow Archer. That's perfect for scouting and picking stuff off from range. Quiet but deadly."
The top names kept circulating — Reiji, Kaito, Damon, Armani, Clara. The ones everyone already assumed would lead. Combat powerhouses mixed with elite support. The kind of lineup that made people feel like this summon wasn't completely screwed.
I stood there, listening.
Patterns forming in real time.
Combat classes at the top.
Support beneath them.
No one said it directly.
They didn't need to.
"That's how it works," I thought. "Every time."
Then—
Kaito laughed.
Not loud enough to be disruptive.
Just enough to be heard.
"So we got the real heavy hitters — Reiji, me, Damon. Armani and Clara got our backs. Guess the rest of y'all just gotta keep up."
He didn't look at anyone specific.
Yet.
His eyes eventually landed on me.
Of course they did.
"Forge Weaver, huh?"
He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to figure something out.
"So you're making weapons for us? Nice. We'll need a good blacksmith on the team."
There it was.
Clean.
Simple.
And loaded.
You serve. You stay behind. You support.
I met his gaze.
Didn't move.
"If you can use them."
That was all I said.
Not loud.
Didn't need to be.
The words sat there.
For a second, the noise dipped again.
Kaito's smile didn't disappear.
But it changed.
Just a little.
He hadn't expected that answer.
Then he laughed it off.
"Yeah, aight," he said. "We'll see."
He turned away like it didn't matter.
It did.
"That doesn't sound like a bad class."
The voice came from my left.
Armani.
Of course.
She stepped forward just enough to be heard — not just by me.
By everyone nearby.
Her curls shifted as she glanced around the group, then back at me with that familiar warmth.
"If he can make weapons, that helps everyone. Reiji and Kaito might be the frontline, but good gear keeps them alive. Damon's spells hit harder with better focus items. Clara needs reliable arrows. It all connects."
No hesitation.
No softness to hide behind.
Just… direct.
A few people nodded.
"Yeah, that's true."
"Support classes are still important."
The narrative shifted slightly.
Not completely.
But enough.
Kaito noticed.
Again.
Of course he did.
That bothered him more than the class itself.
I didn't look at her.
Didn't acknowledge it.
But I heard it.
Felt it.
She didn't hesitate, I thought.
That mattered more than it should've — the way she always had my back, even when the room was busy hyping up the "real heroes."
"Everyone."
Reiji's voice cut in — not loud, but it carried.
The room settled.
Naturally.
"We all have different roles," he said. "Reiji, Kaito, Damon — we'll handle the front. Armani and Clara will keep us standing. But we're here for the same reason."
He looked around, making eye contact where it mattered.
"We'll need all of them to survive."
It was a good speech.
Clean.
Reassuring.
Exactly what people wanted to hear.
And he meant it.
That was the part people trusted.
I watched him for a second.
"He already sounds like he belongs here."
That should've bothered more people than it did.
The ceremony ended not long after.
Efficiently.
Like we'd been sorted into categories and filed accordingly.
Because we had.
Groups started forming.
Not official.
Just natural.
The top heroes — Reiji, Kaito, Damon — drifted together with easy confidence. Armani and Clara stayed close but kept glancing back toward the rest of us. Combat classes buzzed with energy. Plans already forming.
Support classes clustered differently.
Quieter.
More uncertain.
I didn't move.
Didn't need to join anything.
Didn't need to pretend.
I replayed the captain's words instead.
Replication.
Knowledge.
Mana control.
"People heard 'not suited for combat' and stopped thinking."
Same mistake.
Every time.
"You don't start with damage," I thought. "You start with systems."
If I could replicate—
Then I could improve.
If I understood—
Then I could control.
If mana scaled with precision and intelligence—
Then efficiency mattered more than raw output.
"…Yeah."
This wasn't weak.
It was just difficult.
"Hiyori."
I didn't turn immediately.
"…What?"
Armani stepped up beside me again.
Closer this time.
Her shoulder brushed mine lightly — that familiar, grounding touch she'd always done since we were kids sharing headphones and late-night gaming sessions.
"You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine."
She didn't move.
Didn't accept that answer.
"You don't have to pretend with me. Even if they're calling it 'support'… I know you. You'll figure out how to make it mean something. You always do with your builds and stuff."
I looked at her then.
Really looked.
Same as always.
Warm.
Direct.
Too honest for this kind of situation.
The quiet tension between us — the kind that had been building since she first sat with the quiet otaku kid who stayed up grinding Division 2 builds — lingered in the air.
"…I won't," I said.
It wasn't a full promise.
But it wasn't nothing, either.
She nodded, a small, private smile touching her lips.
Like that was enough.
For now.
"Alright, move out!"
The captain's voice cut through again.
"Combat classes will report for immediate assessment and training."
There it was.
No delay.
"Support roles will be assigned accordingly."
Accordingly.
Polite word.
Clear meaning.
Different priorities.
Different value.
"They weren't wrong," I thought. "Just selective."
Groups started moving.
Kaito passed by me on his way forward.
Close enough to speak without anyone else hearing.
"Try not to fall behind, blacksmith," he said lightly. "Wouldn't want our support getting lost while the real heroes handle business."
I didn't look at him.
"You talk like armor makes you useful."
He stopped for half a second.
Just enough.
Then kept walking.
Didn't respond.
But I felt it.
That irritation.
That pressure building.
Good.
We were led out in separate directions not long after.
Different halls.
Different paths.
Different roles.
Just like that.
I walked in silence.
Not with anyone.
Not away from anyone.
Just moving.
Thinking.
Forge Weaver.
I turned the words over again.
Not how they sounded.
How they worked.
Replication.
Knowledge.
Mana control.
Scaling.
Limitations.
Conditions.
"Fine."
If no one else was going to figure it out—
I would.
Because the system didn't decide everything.
People just stopped when it got complicated.
I didn't.
"Forge Weaver…" I muttered under my breath, eyes half-lidded as the pieces settled into place.
"…Let's see what you can really do."