Just as I was about to put my theory to application, I heard a noise from downstairs. Talk about bad timing. Who was it? "Noah! I'm home!" Ah, dad. He's off work. Guess my experiment will have to wait. Can't risk getting caught now. Maybe at night... I was still musing the prospects of my discoveries when dad let himself into my room. "Dad! I told you to knock!" I whined. "Sorry, Noah," Dad laughed, tousling my hair. Then his face got serious.

"Noah, you're almost at that age." He proclaimed seriously.

That age? What age? I'm not adolescent yet. I stared at him, bemused. Noticing the look of confusion on my face, dad decided to provide an explanation. "You know, school age. "

Oh. Right. School.

"School?"

"Yes, school. A place where you can learn and study and make lots of friends." So this is what it's about. It's indeed true that on Hearth, or at least in my country, children start enrolling in school or various academies at the age of six. Unlike the schools back on Earth, Hearth does not segregate students by preschool, grade school or whatnot. Schools are vast compounds that house children from six to sixteen, before they graduate as fully fledged graduates to pursue either further studies or a career. I was indeed at the age where I would soon have to enroll at a school. Well, it'll be useful to learn more about this world, at least.

"Okay, I'll go." I agreed cheerily.

"Really? Great!" Dad laughed, relieved. He had been expecting more resistance. Little did he know I'm all too eager to learn more myself.

After reiterating how much fun I would have in school, dad left the room, gently humming. He looks to be in a good mood. I observed. I wonder how the schools are like... The weeks passed. Day in, day out, I played the role of an obedient toddler in front of my parents, then took to experimenting and developing my magic in the seclusive cover of night.

The night before I was to enroll at school, I allowed myself to have a little rest. Overall, I'd made some pretty decent progress. I'd allow myself a good night's sleep in anticipation of the big day tomorrow. First impressions are crucial. And lack of sleep invariably causes mistakes. These are lessons I learned from my past life. As a gangster, I often had to affirm myself to other gangsters. A showdown of dominance between Alphas. It is important not to ruin a first impression, lest it jeopardizes a potentially lucrative black market deal or culminates in grievous offense to a third party. Countless gang wars were waged over grievous or even minor offenses. Which is why I'll ensure that I'm in the best condition to tackle tomorrow. Tonight, I will reward myself with restful sleep.

I joined countless other students, little weens like myself, in front of the gates of an imposing edifice.

My parents had smiled and waved me goodbye in front of the gates, and I'd smiled and waved back. Not all people here were of the same opinion. Tearful faces and scared crying were just as common. And not all of them were from the children. A common reaction for first time schoolchildren, if a bit exaggerated.

Ignoring the crying wimps, I strode confidently into the compound. Within the school gates, a courtyard loomed to provide space for the teeming throngs of children. A sheltered walkway with railings at both sides led to the inside of the red brick building. It was the only visible entrance and exit. Several adults, presumably teachers, were stationed at various strategic points in the courtyard, holding signs and directing the flow of schoolchildren to the sheltered walkway. Like shepherds herding sheep. Still, I allowed myself to be shepherded into the building, blending in with the teeming multitudes. Blending into crowds is another useful talent I'd picked up from experience. Once inside the main building, I passed an office, a toilet, posters... But no visible classrooms. Was this not a school?

Eventually, the corridor gave way to a hall of considerable size. A crowd had already formed in the hall. Seats had been laid out. Hundreds of them for the hundreds of children. Selecting a seat in the middle aisle, I surveyed my surroundings. Chairs laid out neatly and in rows. Schoolchildren chattering noisily. A stage at the very front of the hall. A gallery on the second floor where several adults were gathered. They didn't speak, but their eyes took in every student, categorizing and analyzing them. Evaluators? Gradually, the influx of schoolchildren from the corridor thinned to a trickle, then stopped altogether.

A person took the stage.