Ding. Assessing. Registering. Error. Error. Reconfiguring.

Kaz’s body jolted, arms flailing, feeling as though he was sucked through a straw. He bit his tongue, using the pain to focus his mind. Kaz opened his eyes to see the floor approaching. He rolled with the fall, coming to a stop, crouched at the feet of a girl dressed in pink.

Flat on his back, he paused, waiting for his stomach to settle. Her appearance shocked him. The little horns protruding from her head were one thing, but her face was awash with tears, stark devastation distorting her features. Her eyes were closed, and her head tilted back in supplication.

What’s happening? Where am I? His mind screamed. Terra. Vague memories flashed as he remembered being enveloped in light. His family huddled together as they said goodbye. He pushed the thoughts away. Kaz focused on the girl. She wasn’t a threat to him and she wasn’t acting like she was in immediate danger. A body falling at her feet wasn’t odd.

It was the look on her face that kept his attention. It tugged at something inside him. He’d seen that look on others—sometimes in the mirror—and it appeared more frequently as the apocalypse progressed. The base they built became a safe place, an oasis, but the ever-looming threat of zombies and humans made every moment of peace they experienced a fragile illusion. That was the look of worry and fear, the waiting for something good to go bad. Or the moment when your expectations were met; when every good thing you’d built crumbled.

Not the time. You’re safer here than you were before. And wasn’t that the fucking problem, he was here and safe while his family was left in that hell hole. A world on the brink of collapse. He shook his head.

Kaz sprang up, staying crouched as he assessed the situation. There were other people here, boys and girls–no – young men and women roughly in the same age group as Kaz. They all displayed different emotions, but none of them focused on him. Either their risk awareness was low or they didn’t think he was a threat. It was likely the latter. They didn’t seem like fighters, only a few made him weary. He was sure he could fight them and win, kill them if necessary. Kaz couldn’t shake the feeling of looming danger. It wasn’t the people. The air felt hostile. Every instinct told him this place was dangerous. School, his mind supplied. His mother’s hasty explanation said he was supposed to meet his father before enrolling in the magical equivalent of college.

Kaz hadn’t been all that thrilled to find out the father he thought was dead was, in fact, alive. Kaz’s already low opinion of the man who abandoned his mother fell even further.

There was no Duke Aquileia in sight and he doubted this was the school his mother described. Mola Academy sounded more like magical Harvard whereas this was giving assassination classroom and chamber of secrets vibes. It was a school. He’d seen the contract Duke Aquileia forced his mother to sign when she left. Kaz was to be sent to school, and given a fair chance to inherit when he turned twenty-one. His mother, sweet as she was despite living through the apocalypse, didn’t realize there were no protection clauses anywhere in that document. Kaz had to make it to twenty-one first all on his own.

He stood, tired of getting odd looks. He was in an enormous rectangular room. Black stone walls devoured light. It felt more like a cave than a man-made structure despite him being able to see the individual bricks. The dank room had weak glowing points embedded in the ceiling, struggling to keep it from being pitch black. The light added a creepy feeling to the room, lengthening shadows, and making them come alive. If he stared too long, the shadows looked like they were reaching for him. Kaz shuddered. The smell didn’t help either. It was wet laundry left in the machine for too long mixed with damp earth and decay. At the front of the room was a large black wooden door with a thick wooden bar keeping it closed.

Uneasy settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. The room was cold, a chill seeping from the ground, and a nippy wind was sweeping through despite having no windows he could see. Most of the furniture in the room were rickety bunk beds that had seen better days. They offered no privacy or comfort. Kaz focused on the front of the room where he could just make out a curtain hiding a single bed.

He sighed. Something was wrong with this room. It crawled along his skin like something living, engulfing him in terror. It was uncanny his mind screaming danger. It was a room manifested from his nightmares. The crush of students piled in the middle of the room, surrounding Kaz, made everything worse.

Kaz clenched his teeth. It was a struggle to keep still the urge to flee clawing up his throat as memories of the apocalypse surfaced. The darkness and crush of bodies. It reminded him too much of the beginning. At the start, the confusion and hope, when people took refuge with each other. Before they realized the horrors of humanity.

Kaz stepped back, trying to put space between himself and the others, but he bumped into an invisible wall. Panic skittered up his spine. He tried again. His body jerked to a stop. Digging his fingers into his palm, he forced himself to still. He closed his eyes, forcing air into his lungs. With a heavy exhale he pushed the memories aside. He took another breath. He wanted his notebook but it wasn’t the time. Instead, he focused on what was stopping him. There was a red line at his feet. It ran the length of the room, dividing it in half. Girls were on one side and boys on the other. Two large trunks sat on either side of the room close to a red circle fencing the students in. The feeling of being trapped tried to swallow him.

This feeling is temporary. Nothing bad is going to happen and you can protect yourself if you need to.

Three things you can hear. Kaz focused on the slight rattle coming from the back of the room. The soft sobs of students. The jangle of chains or bracelets as someone moved. As his breathing eased, he could smell the acidic tinge of urine and a light lavender scent. It sort of smelled like the perfume his mother wore. It was lighter mixed with jasmine whereas his mother smelled like honey. He could almost taste her warm chocolate chip cookies–

There was a thud. A boy landed in a heap and then curled into a ball. He didn’t move even as others appeared mid-air and landed on him. A small part of Kaz wanted to reach out and help, but he squashed it. If he reached out his hand, he had to be prepared for it being bitten, or worse someone latching on and not letting go. There was a certain responsibility attached to helping someone, and it was foolhardy to help people who weren’t prepared to help themselves. He’d learned that the hard way when his rash actions put those he cared about in danger.

Kaz looked away. He scanned the room, meeting the gaze of a purple-eyed boy who watched everything with crossed arms and a sneer. They exchanged nods before looking away.

“Should I set it on fire?” Kaz’s head whipped around, but he couldn’t see who’d spoken. A girl. Her voice was light and airy, but she sounded so serious.

Kaz stilled, rubbing his eyes. Was the room getting smaller? No, it was the beds, more of them appeared along with students. The cavernous space became impossibly small. He shook his head, moving away from the center of the room. He didn’t stop until he was pressed against the edge of the circle, his eyes on the curtain at the front of the room. If he had to live here, he wanted one of those beds.

Kaz leaned against the barrier, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He remembered his mother’s words. Her fantastical tale was woven with the promise of magic and the majesty of Mola Academy. He’d been charmed, but not at all certain he’d fit in. Kaz’s nature was closer to that of a beast. Kaz was used to fighting; unsure of how to exist in peace. Whatever school ‘they’ sent him to, suited his nature. That twinge of danger hung over him like a cloud. His instincts told him he’d be able to find a way to meet his family here. Not the mysterious father who tossed him to the wolves, but his mother, brother, and stepfather. The people he was forced to leave behind.

Kaz wondered if this would be an advantage. He looked to the side at the blue semi-transparent screen only he could see suspended in the air. It was already malfunctioning. According to his mother, it was a primus schola: a family heirloom that was supposed to help him in this strange new world. It was a tool to teach heirs magic that would be usable when he arrived in Nioroma. His mother had said a lot of things that weren’t happening. It also looked like a gaming system.

Did he have to be in Nioroma for it to activate? That would be inconvenient. He leaned his head on the barrier, eyes drifting to the sealing. Kaz stilled. He took it all back. He was used to living in danger and uncertainty but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fucking annoying. He dragged a hand down his face. The ceiling was undulating and writhing like a pit of snakes. There was a face forming in the stone. It pushed out, eyes and mouth open in a scream, but empty. It was a sight that was as grotesque as it was fascinating.

He glanced around to see if anyone else was seeing this. At first, it was only a few students, but soon others glanced up wondering what they were looking at. Kaz took note of the students who were the first to notice the changes. He would consider them first if he needed allies.

“That doesn’t look like an illusion.”

“It’s a morph spell. The headmaster here is famous for it.”

The appearance of the face in the rock eased some of the tension in the room. The looks on the faces of some students eased into weary acceptance. Kaz’s shoulders eased as the nervous energy settled into a low hum. Conversations started in small groups around the room.

Kaz started observing the students. They were a diverse bunch, some with animal characteristics. A boy close to him had fine translucent red scales along his neck. Another’s pupils were square and horizontal. There were also varied clothes. Clothes were actually the dividing factor. Boys dressed in colorful silk shirts and fitted pants with numerous rings on their fingers stood together. Other boys, wearing fewer rings on their fingers but still dressed in finery, looked at the first group with envious, scared, or angry gazes. There were subtle differences in the clothes that he attributed to different countries. One country favored yellow or gold with almost all of them wearing a shade of that color. They were a religious country since everyone wore a cross, whether cufflinks or necklaces. In another group the shoes were different, leather sandals were popular among them. The other two were identical, but the boys formed distinct groups. Only a few wore linen and milled around, seeking each other out, but not talking much. Their clothes mimicked the others, but the quality and fit were off.

The boys with the crosses were from the Sol Theocracy. Those wearing sandals were from Enki which mostly had coastal towns. Threece and Nioroma wore almost identical clothes and he couldn’t distinguish them with the information he had, but he noticed that one group had more animal characteristics than the other.

He was technically from Nioroma. His parents were both from duchies, but his father and the king were relatives whereas his mother’s family had vowed not to marry anyone directly related to the throne.

Kaz stroked the ring on his finger. In his storage ring his mother had given him a book with the information he’d need. She also said Kaz would find an explanation for why she hadn’t told him sooner or given him more information. He itched to start reading, but it wasn’t the time or the place. His mother’s information was also seventeen years old and had so far proved unreliable.

Where am I?” A girl asked, shaking her head from side to side. “I shouldn’t be here.” The room quieted, everyone focusing on her–a distraction from their own thoughts and worries. Kaz wanted to pretend he had a lofty reason, like collecting information, but he was the same. He needed a mental break.

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“Shut up,” another girl said. “Don’t pretend here. Your crocodile tears won’t get you far.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” the pink-dress girl from earlier said.

“You shut up too. She acted like she was better than the rest of us because the young duke was interested in her, but what did it get her? Nothing. Here with the rest of us. He fucked her, and she’s got nothing to show for it. And, you–the queen was kind enough to arrange your marriage, and that is how you repaid her? Why do I have to be punished along with you?” Kaz could only make out a red ponytail flicking as the girl spoke. As mean and angry as she tried to sound, fear filled her voice.

“He promised to marry me. He did. He will. This is a mistake–”

Snickers and conversation rose on the boy's side of the room, drowning out the girls. Some guys stood on the tip of their toes to see which girls were talking, sneers, shoulder bumps, and suggestive smiles being shared. Cliques were forming around people who knew each other.

“Can you see her?” a beady-eyed boy asked.

“No,” another boy answered, pressed to the dividing line of the barrier, girls sneering at him in disgust as he tried to see who was talking. “She’s got her back to me. Come on sweety, let me see your face.”

“Well, most of these girls are illegitimate daughters, they’ll be easy.” The boy who said this wore arrogance like a second skin. His group was the largest with two bulky boys standing on either side of him like guards.

“If you were someone important, you’d be at Mola instead of slumming it here like the rest of us.” The pink-dress girl had collected herself, pushing her way to the circles. Her unfocussed eyes stared in the distance and only the reddened corners showed her earlier loss of emotion. All that remained was determination.

“You’d know all about slumming it, wouldn’t you, princess? Daddy wasn’t too pleased you embarrassed him in front of the diplomats from Sol. You should have married the pope like a good little girl.” The arrogant boy soothed his hand down a silk shirt, sneering at those around him until an unoccupied bubble, a foot wide, formed around him.

“In four years do you dare say that to my face?” pink-dress asked.

“You might marry me in four years.”

Pink-dress, likely a princess, laughed. “You’ve got eight brothers in this year alone, all just as likely to become the duke. Not to mention those older and younger than you. You’re nothing special, pretend all you want. Just make sure you make something of your life before your father loses interest in your mother--if he hasn't done that already.”

The arrogant boy was huffing now. His eyes scanned the room and met the gaze of seven other boys. Only one looked away which enraged him more. His face became mottled red. “Do you know who I am? Fix your gazes. My mother will deal with all of you.”

“She’s right. Your bitch mother can’t do anything here and your thugs are useless. From this point, the only thing that matters is the results.”

“Well said.” A thundering voice echoed through the room. Every student groaned, a weight settling on their shoulders and fear seeping into their bones. “Welcome to Killingworth.” There were shouts and shrieks. Students bumped into each other falling to the floor. Kaz had never been to a concert, but he imagined a mosh pit stampede might look like this. His eyes snapped to the ceiling, watching the undulating stone settle into a face. Hollow eyes glowed with power. For a glorified stone statue, his face was expressive. The man was more amused than concerned as he observed the students. Its eyes lingered on certain individuals, Kaz included.

Kaz’s hand flew to his side as that eerie gaze brushed over him. His hand hovered over where his sword should be, grasping at air. He clenched his fist, biting his lip to resist the urge to use his powers.

There is no danger. He doesn’t want to attack. It took everything to stay still as his mind screamed danger.

The weight lifted and Kaz heard the soft thuds as students slumped to the floor. “Well, we might have a few decent ones this year, more than in past years.”

Kaz forced his eyes away, determined to remember the faces of every student that remained standing. He jolted. He’d thought there were about two hundred people here but as he looked around that number was closer to a thousand. Space powers, or space magic. It was a scale that the space powers in the apocalypse had never reached. He desperately wanted to make notes, but held back, focusing on his task. Among the girls and boys, roughly sixty remained standing.

“We have full enrollment for the first time in over five hundred years. As Headmaster, I am proud that this happened during my tenure. I’m pleased that this illustrious academy is regaining its former glory and I look forward to the achievements of the students who graduate. This is an exciting time in your lives and I encourage you to cherish every moment. As your headmaster, I urge you to be diligent in your studies, but as someone who remembers his youth, I implore you to cherish the relationships you make here. If chosen wisely, those you call friends will leave indelible marks on you and aid you in years to come. Our motto here is Non Docur, Docu; I am not led, I lead. During your tenure here, you will decide what that means to you.” Applause rang through the room, sounding like a laugh track, distant and echoing. Some students snorted, ridicule clear on their faces. Other students joined in the applause, sending nervous glances at each other.

Kaz didn’t bother. The headmaster didn’t strike him as a man who said words lightly. He pulled out his notebook, unable to resist, and recorded the speech, circling parts he thought the headmaster emphasized.

“Anorak.”

What a strange word to use. Kaz wrote it in his book double-underlining it. If he wasn’t mistaken an anorak was a winter jacket, but that didn’t fit the context. Something tickled his brain but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Kaz glanced over to see a boy brushing dust off his pants. His legs were trembling as he used the barrier to stand steady. There was recognition in the boy's blue eyes as he glanced at Kaz before hastily looking away. The boy was nervous, a mix of excitement and fear. That glance showed a greedy gaze.

Kaz watched him for a moment more, tapping the charcoal stick his mother had given him instead of a pen against the page. His being here wasn’t accidental. Kaz wasn’t as shocked as he should be that his ‘father’ had lied to his mother. The story of how she ended up in a different world seemed less likely.

One thing at a time. Kaz was good at compartmentalizing, he would have been dead otherwise.

The headmaster ignored everything and continued talking once the applause track ended. “A few housekeeping matters–”

A sickening crunch cut off the headmaster’s words. Screams tore through the air. The students stepped back. Kaz looked at the body in the room. There was a short boy, his hair a light grey, wearing loose linen pants with sandals, and his neck bent at an unnatural angle. A trickle of blood seeped past his lips and from his unseeing eyes.

“Lovely. We’re over-enrolled this year. I wonder what happened. Just a moment students, I’ll set the room to accept over capacity. Far be it for me to turn out hopeful students.” The body was gone faster than it came but the impact on the group lasted.

This world was largely peaceful. It was in the shocked look on their faces. The uncomfortable shuffling of their feet. They weren’t used to death. The better they were dressed the larger the reaction, and the more horrified they were. It was the same in his world. People with wealth and influence sheltered their children.

Yet, because of this, certain people stood out. Some were saddened but still used to death. Others, like Kaz, had dispassionate eyes. A few looked at the ring on his finger with greed. Storage rings represented resources to be used or traded.

“Now then, back to it. A few housekeeping matters. You can’t leave the school until you’ve passed, with sufficient merit, through three years of schooling. The exact time that it takes depends on the student.”

Kaz’s heart raced. He felt trapped. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. His mother’s family disowned her and his father at best wanted nothing to do with him and at worst wanted him dead. With his eyes closed, he forced himself to take a calming breath, counting back from ten. Fear and anger wouldn’t help, and he refused to let his emotions rule him by lashing out. He needed a plan. That was what these three years were for; acclimatize to this world.

“No!” a boy with black hair, and pale, gaunt skin said. “I didn’t agree to this. Let me out! I don’t belong here.” He was biting his nails, eyes shifting around the room. “I’m better than this. There’s a mistake.” He ran to the barrier, banging his fist against it. “I don’t want to die.”

The headmaster laughed, a booming sound that shook the room. Kaz splayed his legs, a hand on the barrier steadying him. It was like the headmaster was the room. Even after he stopped laughing the room rattled, dust falling from the ceiling, accompanied by a symphony of creaking wood. Several beds broke, but in the next breath, they were magically repaired.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the room stopped shaking. “A mistake? Maybe, we have a few of those. People have historically sent mistakes here, whether you remain as such is up to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can’t leave. Though you’re welcome to try.”

The crying started again, softer though, afraid to attract attention to themselves.

“Can we graduate early?” pink-dress-princess asked.

“No. There is a three-year minimum mandatory attendance, but your life can be more comfortable.” The stone face smiled, trying to make a reassuring expression, but as the rock pulled and cracked at the edges, it looked terrifying.

Kaz guessed they were like actors in a play, an amusing distraction for the headmaster rather than students. He didn’t like it. He was used to a certain level of respect. Kaz had worked hard to earn it based on his strengths and achievements.

“How can we be more comfortable?” pink-dress-princess asked.

“Hmm, what a good question. You have to do this and that, maybe a little more of that. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” This look suited the headmaster better. It was malicious and filled with devilish glee.

“Is it that you don’t have an answer or won’t tell us?” A red-faced boy with more bravado than common sense was glaring at the ceiling. It took a unique type of stupidity to knowingly behave with so little care for the consequences of your actions.

There was another rumbling laugh that had the room shaking. “Hmm, I wonder which it is? What will you do if I don’t know? What will you do if I don’t want to tell you?” The headmaster cocked a curious brow, his face pushing further out of the stone and towards the boy who promptly fell on his ass.

“No wonder you haven’t had any students for the last five years.” The arrogant boy was speaking, arms crossed. He tried his best not to look intimidated but stepped closer to his two muscled friends and shifted from side to side.

“Ahh? Hmm, what a lovely surprise. Nine dukes spread across three nations, and everyone has a son attending Killingworth this year. That takes me back to when I was a stud–”

The nervous boy glanced at Kaz, giving himself away. The only question was–the thought slipped away as a shout drew his attention.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Antonius is going to Mola Academy. And I find the insinuation that the Duke of Aquileia has illegitimate children to be crass and insulting. He's known for his fidelity.” It was the crying girl from before. Kaz wasn’t impressed. She was beautiful but reeked of desperation. The heavy set of her face made it seem like she was marching off to war.

“Another idiot bites the dust.” The purple-eyed boy from earlier inched closer, before mirroring Kaz and leaning against the barrier. “Rock, paper scissors for the bottom bunk?”

“Wrong person. I don’t like sharing.”

Purple-eyes, Kaz really needed to learn some names, quirked a brow before shrugging. “Really? I don’t either.” They shared a smile before turning back to the drama.

Antonius’s girl was clutching her throat, tears streaming down her face, and her mouth was moving but no sound came out. Ah, Kaz could see the appeal. There was a weakness to her: a softness that appealed to a man's instincts to protect. She looked like a busty K-pop idol using the innocent concept. If the world hadn’t fallen to shit, he felt like that might be his type. Now, he had no interest in women.

“Don’t interrupt me, child, especially not to hark about Marcus’s virtues for which he has only a few. As for fidelity?” The stone eyes focused on him.

Kaz’s plans to fly under the radar died a swift death. The nervous boy looked even more worried, and others who’d only shown passing interest in him glanced at him for a little longer than necessary. Their eyes were missing the confusion of the rest of the students. “I don’t know the whole story, nor do I wish to comment on it, but I’m the first son from the first wife, though I’m the younger brother. A miracle born of true love and fidelity.”

Purple-eyes dissolved into laughter. Pink-dress-princess looked shocked and then determined. Arrogant-boy looked sick. Nervous-boy looked scandalized. Discount-K-pop idol looked confused, then disbelieving, and then determined. Red-hair ponytail looked hungry and Kaz was the last piece of meat. A lot of the girls had that look.

“Thanks,” Kaz said to the Headmaster.

“You’re welcome,” the headmaster said with twinkling eyes and a grandfatherly smile. “Now, no interruptions, I’ll finish going over those rules. Magic is a costly endeavor and time is money.”