"Uh, so how do we get back up to the campus?" Ajal asked, squinting against the blinding morning sun as he stepped outside, one hand shielding his eyes.
"There was a note on the table when we arrived," Jean replied, flipping open a small pocket mirror and carefully adjusting his hair with an air of exaggerated precision. "It said a Basil Drake will show up to pick us up if we choose to wait long enough."
"Choose?" Yumiko muttered through a yawn, her hair sticking out in every possible direction, a chaotic mess that perfectly matched her half-lidded, groggy expression. She rubbed her eyes sluggishly and blinked at Jean. "What does that even mean?"
"That wording bothered me too," Jean admitted, snapping the mirror shut with a dramatic flourish. "Especially when you combine it with the rest of the note."
"Doesn’t really matter," Ezekiel interjected from where he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, and his glasses perched just low enough on his nose to reveal his tired eyes. "Even if choosing to wait turns out to be a trap or some test, we don’t exactly have another way of getting up there."
Yumiko yawned again, louder this time, drawing Ajal’s attention. Her hair was an absolute disaster, sticking out in every direction like she’d been caught in a whirlwind. Her normally sharp eyes were heavy-lidded, and her posture screamed exhaustion.
Ajal couldn’t help but laugh. "Not a morning person, huh?"
"Hm?" Yumiko turned her head toward him slowly, like her body weighed twice as much as it normally did. Her expression was comically deadpan, her tone flat. "Oh. Usually, I’m fine. Guess I was too excited to get enough sleep last night."
Her face relaxed into a small, tired smile as she stretched her arms lazily over her head, the motion just as sluggish as her speech. "It’s fine. I’ll be back to my fabulous self in about an hour or so."
Ajal chuckled again, shaking his head. "Looking forward to it."
Suddenly, a voice echoed in their heads, clear and calm, yet slightly unenthusiastic. It was Garth. "Hey, Team Z. This is Garth. I'm sending the Basil Drakes your way soon. It'll be about 30 minutes before they get there, so, uh, eat breakfast if you haven’t already, I guess."
“It appears we have more time than anticipated, Master Jean. Shall I prepare breakfast for everyone?” Arc asked, her tone steady and practical as she turned toward him.
“In only 30 minutes?” Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, skepticism coloring his voice. “You really think you can pull that off?”
Jean stepped forward dramatically, a smug grin plastered across his face. He tilted his head back slightly, crossing his arms like he was about to deliver the most profound statement of the year. “Ha, ha, ha! Oh, Ezekiel, you are about to witness the true power of Arc! Go ahead, Arc—show them what you’re capable of!”
Arc didn’t even blink, her composed expression unmoved by Jean’s antics. Instead, she turned to Ezekiel and replied matter-of-factly, “I prepared food last night. All we need to do is heat it up.”
Ezekiel blinked, then shrugged, muttering, “Fair enough.” Without another word, he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way back inside.
“What are we waiting for?” Ajal exclaimed with gleeful enthusiasm, sprinting after Ezekiel. “I’m starving!”
“Oh! Oh!” Yumiko’s energy seemed to surge back to life in an instant. She clapped her hands together and practically skipped toward the door. “Perfect timing! Everyone should try on the clothes I made for you!”
The group froze in place just outside the door, slowly turning to look at her in unison. “What?” they said in near-perfect harmony.
Yumiko grinned, completely unbothered by their confusion. “Yeah, I made clothes for everyone last night! Custom outfits, just for you guys!” She bounced slightly on her toes, clearly proud of herself. “Had to get all your measurements while you were sleeping, of course. They are all waiting in your closets.”
Jean’s eyes widened as he grabbed at his jacket, clutching it tightly against his body like a scandalized aristocrat in a drama. “Scandalous!” he declared, dramatically turning his back on her and holding a hand over his chest for added effect.
"Relax, drama queen. I'm a tailor, not a creep," Yumiko clarified with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But as you can tell, all our clothes are completely ruined from the exam, and the stuff we had set up to send from home hasn’t arrived yet. The first day of school is always the time to show off your style!" She beamed with excitement, rocking back and forth on her heels like a child who just revealed their latest masterpiece.
"Sure," Arc said with a gentle smile, her hands neatly folded in front of her. "Everyone can take their meal to their room. However, Yumiko—"
"What is it, Arc?" Yumiko asked, still rocking excitedly, her eyes shining with anticipation.
"I don’t mean to offend, but I cannot wear anything that isn’t Master Jean’s wish. Meaning, a maid costume is all I can wear."
"Hey!" Jean immediately shouted, his face turning crimson as he waved his arms defensively. "Don’t twist my words! I just said I like your maid look the best! That’s it!" He turned his head slightly, muttering under his breath, "At least compared to the other monstrosities you made..."
"What was that, Master Jean?" Arc asked sweetly, tilting her head with her usual innocent smile, but the ominous gleam behind her closed eyes sent a chill down Jean’s spine.
"Nothing!" Jean quickly replied, his voice defeated and his arms dropping limply to his sides.
Yumiko laughed at the exchange, crossing her arms confidently. "It’s all good, Arc! I accounted for this!" she said with a self-assured smirk. "So, I made a copy of what you’re wearing now. It was simple enough."
"Much appreciated, Yumiko." Arc gave a small bow, her elegance making the gesture look like something straight out of a royal court.
"Okay, we’re burning time. Let’s move," Ezekiel interjected, his tone brisk and authoritative as he grabbed his reheated breakfast plate.
"K!" Yumiko chirped, skipping toward the doorway. She glanced around briefly. "Where’s Ajal?"
"Already ran up to his room," Ezekiel replied flatly, not bothering to glance back as he ascended the staircase positioned between the living room and the kitchen, plate in hand.
Inside Ajal’s room, it was clear he hadn’t quite settled in. The bed was made—poorly, with wrinkled sheets and uneven corners—but it was made nonetheless. The white walls were bare, void of any personal touches, and the desk, closet, and drawers were all empty, as if the room were still waiting for its occupant to claim it. The only sign of life was an empty plate sitting on the nightstand, a faint smear of food left on its surface.
Ajal stood in front of a full-length mirror, his lavender eyes widening slightly as he took in his reflection. His hair, now messier than ever, jutted out in sharp, spiky strands that seemed to defy gravity. The jet-black locks, tipped with dimly glowing white ends, gave him a striking, almost otherworldly appearance. He ran his fingers through it, the soft glow at the tips faintly reflecting in the mirror.
“How long has it been like this?” he muttered, tilting his head as he examined the wild shape of his hair. "Since training? I’m sure Yumiko would’ve roasted me for this if it had changed this much after the exam. Eh, whatever." He shrugged, brushing it off.
Turning away, he crossed the room to the empty closet. Inside, hanging neatly, was the outfit Yumiko had left for him. It was the only item in the closet, standing out starkly against the barren interior.
The outfit came together in a way that felt almost natural, clear it had been designed specifically for Ajal. The loose black button-up shirt was lightweight and practical, with its sleeves ending just above the middle of his forearms and secured by two relatively large buttons that seamlessly blended into the shirt's dark fabric. Over the shirt, his signature scarf rested snugly around his neck. The black fabric draped down on either side, its ends swaying slightly as he adjusted it. It almost covered his mouth but stopped just shy, letting his lavender eyes remain visible above the soft folds of fabric.
The wraps on his wrists added a subtle edge to his appearance. Tightly wound but not constricting, they gave his arms a rugged, ready-for-action look. His pants were fitted but not restrictive, made of a durable fabric that tapered neatly at the ankles, where they were rolled up for a relaxed touch.
The shoes completed the ensemble: high-top black sneakers with crisp white accents and intricate, skull-like designs on the soles. The laces were securely tied, giving off a sense of readiness, as if he were prepared to jump into action at a moment's notice.
Stepping back from the mirror, Ajal tugged at his scarf one last time, ensuring it sat just right. The outfit wasn't flashy, but it felt like him—simple, functional, and just a little rough around the edges.
"Not bad," he muttered, running a hand down the edge of his scarf to adjust it, the outfit not just fitting but feeling like it belonged to him—as if he belonged in it. With a small grin tugging at his lips, he reached for the door and mumbled, "Yumiko's good at this," before stepping out to rejoin the rest of the team.
Ajal stepped out of his room, his shoes making a soft thud against the wooden floor as he entered the narrow hallway. The stairs leading down were just a few paces away, and he descended quickly, one hand lightly grazing the banister. When he reached the bottom, the sight of his team gathered in the living room greeted him.
Jean was seated on the couch, glancing at his new watch with a mock frown. He raised an eyebrow at Ajal. “How were you the first one up there and the last one down here?” he asked, his tone half-teasing.
Yumiko, however, stole the scene. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, her energy infectious as her eyes darted between each of her teammates. “Look at you guys!” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement as she examined their outfits like a proud artist admiring her own work. “You’re all pulling it off so well!”
She spun around to face Ajal, her braids swaying behind her as her grin widened. “Especially you! Took you long enough to get down here—don’t tell me you were up there admiring my handiwork.”
Ajal smirked, pulling at the edge of his scarf. “What can I say? Had to make sure I looked this good.”
Yumiko wore a cropped black tank top layered with a sleeveless maroon hoodie that was left unzipped, its hem swaying slightly as she shifted her weight. The contrast between the bold maroon and the neutral black and white tones made the outfit stand out effortlessly.
Her pants were loose, high-waisted, and distinctly stylish, with a cream-white color accented by bold black panels near the pockets and inner seams. The wide-legged cut gave them a relaxed look, but the dark panels lent an edge of flair. The pants draped just enough to partially cover her pink and white sneakers, which were undeniably fresh, with clean lines and vibrant shades that tied the whole outfit together.
His gaze briefly flicked to her gloves—fingerless, black with sleek cuffs, adding a practical yet cool vibe to her ensemble. But it wasn’t just her outfit that drew his attention. Her hair was braided on both sides, with the ends tied off neatly, while some loose strands framed her face, softening the overall look. The hairstyle gave her an effortlessly playful yet composed appearance.
Ajal blinked and gave her an amused grin. “You’re sure going for it, huh?”
Yumiko spun on her heels in place, her eyes lighting up. “What, this?” She gestured to herself, smirking as she adjusted her hoodie. “You like it?"
He tilted his head, taking in the full picture. “Yeah, it suits you,” he said, his tone genuine. “Super laid-back. Kinda like a cat.”
Yumiko grinned wider, throwing a mock punch in the air. “Damn right. I’m killing it!”
Ajal chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Jean crossed his arms, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yes, yes, you all look fantastic. Now can we please get a move on before the Drakes leave us behind?” he said, his tone exasperated but tinged with his usual playful energy.
Jean himself stood out in his new attire, an ensemble that perfectly balanced his eccentricity with a touch of class. He wore a deep crimson, double-breasted coat with sharp, angular lapels and gold buttons that gleamed faintly from the morning sunlight shining through the windows. The coat flared slightly at the hem, giving him a dashing, almost theatrical silhouette. Beneath the coat, a crisp, off-white shirt with a high, folded collar peeked out, layered with a loose black cravat tied neatly at the neck.
His leather gloves were scuffed but well-maintained, and his dark brown trousers tucked seamlessly into sturdy boots that bore no signs of wear. To top it all off—quite literally—Jean’s signature goggles rested on his head, their bronze frames reflecting light with every turn. His wild, fiery orange hair jutted out in every direction, as though defying gravity itself. Jean’s look was further accentuated by the two distinct black dots under his left eye.
"Relax, man," Ajal replied with a laugh. "We still have a few minutes. But, uh... what's with the dots under your eye?"
Jean touched the two marks casually, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, these?" he said. "They've always been there, they're just beauty marks, I think. I used to cover them up with makeup because, well, people made fun of me for them back in the day." He shrugged, his fiery orange eyes glinting with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "But I figured, new outfit, new me, right? Time to own it."
"I assure you, Master Jean," Arc said with a confident nod, her voice as composed as ever. "No one would dare make fun of your beauty marks." She held her head high, her poise adding weight to her words, as if her very assurance would fend off any future mockery.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Her outfit was as polished and pristine as usual, but carried Yumiko's subtle creative flair. The base of her attire was a classic black and white maid-inspired dress, meticulously tailored to fit Arc’s graceful figure. The high collar of her uniform was accented with a crimson bow tied neatly at her neck, adding a pop of color to the monochromatic scheme. Straps adorned with intricately designed clockwork gears and golden pendants crossed over her torso.
The ruffled layers of her skirt flowed down elegantly, contrasted by sleek black sleeves with stylish cutouts that hinted at a more modern edge. On her wrist was a single gold bracelet, simple yet eye-catching. Her hair, as immaculate as her attire, was tied back with a black ribbon headband interwoven with small, jewel-like embellishments that glinted faintly in the light.
Yumiko’s adjustments were subtle but effective, elevating the overall look without losing the dignified essence of Arc’s traditional style.
"My savior," Jean said, his tone walking the line between genuine gratitude and sarcastic flair.
Yumiko glanced around. "Where's Zeke?"
Jean jerked his thumb toward the door. "He's waiting outside. We should probably join him. The Drakes'll be here any second."
The group made their way outside, where Ezekiel was lounging casually against the dorm wall. His arms were tucked behind his head, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the treetops swaying in the breeze.
Ezekiel’s outfit was simple yet striking. He wore a long, mustard-yellow hooded coat with black belts hanging loosely around the hem. Underneath, a plain black shirt draped effortlessly over his toned frame, with sleeves stopping just short of his wrists to reveal intricate tattoos swirling up his forearms. His pants were sleek and fitted, ending just above his ankles, which left his high-top sneakers—brown and black with scuffed, worn soles—on full display.
A pair of dangling red earrings swung gently as he moved his head slightly, and his square, black-framed glasses rested firmly on his face.
"Took you guys long enough," he muttered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Ajal grinned, gesturing to the other man's outfit. "I gotta say, that look works for you. Really elevates your whole 'I'm angry and want everyone to know it' vibe."
"Shut up," Ezekiel grumbled, brushing dust off his coat as he stood up.
The trees swayed in the wind, their branches creaking as a massive Basil Drake descended gracefully in front of the dorm. Its leathery wings folded tightly to its body as it landed with barely a thud. The carriage attached to its back opened with a faint mechanical hiss.
"All aboard, team," Ajal said, stepping forward to lead the way.
The flight through the sky was calm and uneventful at first, the group settling into a rare moment of relaxation. The gentle sway of the carriage combined with the rhythmic flaps of the Drake's wings created a strangely soothing atmosphere.
But after a few minutes, movement caught their eye—a group of figures in the sky, soaring just ahead of them. As they got closer, the details became clear.
It was Team L.
Vail was at the center, enormous black bat-like wings sprouting from his back and flapping powerfully against the wind. His expression, however, was strained, veins bulging on his arms as he struggled to hold Rayven and Zee, one with each arm. The two hung effortlessly, Rayven beaming while Zee looked utterly relaxed, as if this were an everyday occurrence.
And then there was Kiera, clinging to their arms for dear life, her eyes squeezed shut in terror.
Ajal leaned forward and opened the carriage window. "Hey, Rayven! What the hell are you guys doing?"
"What does it look like?" Rayven shouted back, her usual grin plastered across her face. "We're saving money by having Vail fly us to school!"
"Save money?" Jean muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with disbelief.
"That's Vail?!" Ajal called out, his voice carrying a mix of awe and confusion. "You're stronger than you look, man!"
Vail didn’t respond, his gritted teeth and strained expression speaking volumes about the effort it was taking to carry the team.
"Maybe don’t distract him," Zee chimed in with a laugh, adjusting his grip on Vail’s arm. "I’d rather not plummet to my death."
"Shut up about falling and dying!" Kiera shrieked, still clinging tightly, her face buried in Rayven's sleeve.
Rayven, as nonchalant as ever, used her leg to wave toward Team Z. "We’ll see you guys in the classroom!"
With one powerful beat of his wings, Vail propelled them forward and upward, leaving the Basil Drake far behind. The gust of air left in their wake rattled the carriage slightly as they shot off toward the campus like a black streak in the sky.
The Drake carrying Team Z finally landed at the pad minutes later, coming to rest beside another Basil Drake. As the carriage settled, its passengers disembarked.
Team A had arrived before them and was already stepping off their own Drake. Sosira was the first to emerge, her gaze flicking briefly to Team Z before she turned and walked toward the main building without a word. Jing followed close behind, offering a polite nod to Ajal and the others before continuing on.
Cassian came next, helping Molly down from the carriage. Unlike before, Jolly wasn’t in her death grip. Instead, the unmoving and torn Avatar was fastened securely to her waist, its ear swaying slightly with her movements. Molly’s eyes locked onto Ajal, her sharp glare slicing through the distance between them like a dagger before she turned and walked away.
Cassian lingered, his usual nervous energy apparent as he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, hey guys," he said awkwardly, his voice barely above a mumble. "Beautiful morning, right?"
"Cassian," Molly called over her shoulder, her tone as sharp as her glare had been.
"Right, sorry. See ya," Cassian said hastily, shuffling after his team. But before he fully disappeared, he turned back, offering an awkward smile. "Oh, nice clothes, by the way. They really suit you guys."
Yumiko puffed up her chest and struck a confident pose. "You hear that? They suit us!"
Ezekiel let out an exaggerated groan, already heading toward the path that led to the main building. "Great. Now she’s going to bring that up every day for the rest of the year."
Ajal stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself.
"You good?" Jean asked, glancing at him.
"Yeah," Ajal replied, though his tone was uncertain. He glanced in the direction Molly had gone, his shoulders tense. "I want to make amends with her, but… I’m not sure if that’s possible."
"Yeah, I can see why you’d say that," Yumiko said, crossing her arms. "I mean, you basically killed her best friend."
"Yumiko!" Jean snapped, glaring at her.
"My bad, Ajal," Yumiko said quickly, raising her hands in apology.
Ajal just chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You’re fine. Let’s get going before we’re late."
The four of them followed Ezekiel down the path, leaving the landing pad behind. The bronze tiles beneath their feet soon gave way to a winding stone path, shaded by towering trees on either side. Their leaves rustled softly in the breeze, creating a tranquil atmosphere that belied the tension lingering between them.
Team Z reached the entrance of the main campus building, its towering doors just as imposing as they remembered from the day before. The memory of watching their upperclassmen stand before these very doors flickered through their minds, each recalling it in their own way.
Ezekiel clicked his tongue in irritation at the thought, his fists clenching briefly at his sides before he stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept walking. "Tch," he muttered, his voice low and sharp, but he didn’t break stride as he pushed through the doors.
Inside, the grandeur of the building was on full display. The main lobby greeted them with its vast circular design, the ceiling soaring high above and lined with intricate carvings of symbols representing the various Gifts. Three large doors stood at the far end of the room, each one framed by glowing runes. Above them were simple, engraved labels: CLASSROOMS, AUDITORIUM, and ARCHIVES.
The walls were lined with portraits of alumni, each image perfectly preserved, showing figures of importance and prestige. Some of the faces seemed almost alive, their gazes following the group as they moved.
Team Z spread out slightly, their attention drawn to the images. Jean tapped his chin as he peered at the names beneath the portraits. Yumiko whistled softly, impressed by the ornate golden frames and the sense of history they carried.
"Classrooms are this way," Ezekiel said flatly, already heading for the labeled door.
"Guess we should get moving," Yumiko added, turning to follow.
But she stopped mid-step, realizing Ajal hadn’t moved. "Ajal?" she asked, glancing back.
Ajal stood frozen in front of one of the portraits, his eyes wide in shock.
Jean noticed his expression and frowned. "What is it?"
Ajal’s voice came out louder than he intended, reverberating through the circular room. "Theo?!"
The sound startled the others, and Ezekiel immediately scowled, rubbing his temples. "Chill out, man!" he snapped. "What, you got beef with that guy or something?"
Ajal shook his head slowly, still staring at the portrait as if it might disappear if he blinked. "No," he said, his voice quieter now but no less stunned. "That’s… my older brother."
The air in the room shifted as the weight of his words settled over the team. Yumiko stepped closer, her gaze flicking between Ajal and the portrait.
"You never mentioned having a brother," she said, her tone soft but curious.
Jean raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to get a better look at the nameplate beneath the picture. "Theodosar Ruoc," he read aloud, his voice carrying a note of intrigue.
The portrait depicted a man who bore a striking resemblance to Ajal, though his features were sharper, more refined. His black hair was styled neatly. He wore a confident smirk, his lavender eyes glinting with intelligence and strength.
Ajal didn’t answer right away. His hand unconsciously tightened into a fist at his side as he continued to stare. "I didn’t think he…" He trailed off, his voice caught between disbelief and frustration.
"Didn’t think he what?" Yumiko pressed gently.
"Was ever here," Ajal finished, his voice almost a whisper.
Ezekiel sighed heavily, his patience wearing thin. "Look, if you’ve got some big family drama, maybe save it for later? We’ve got class."
Jean elbowed him in the side. "Hey, show a little compassion, man."
Ezekiel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. "Compassion? Sure. But I’m not about to stand here all day while he stares at a picture."
Yumiko placed a hand on Ajal’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Come on," she said, her voice steady. "You can tell us more about him later. Right now, we’ve got to move."
Ajal took a deep breath, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the portrait. "Yeah," he muttered.
The team regrouped and headed for the door labeled CLASSROOMS, but Ajal glanced back one last time before stepping through, Theo’s smirking face etched firmly in his mind.
Ajal’s energetic demeanor resurfaced as they walked down the hallway, his voice echoing off the walls as he launched into a rant about his brother. "He always kept his Gift hidden from us! I knew he was hiding something!" Ajal yelled, his steps turning into exaggerated stomps. "He told us he was going to a normal university for normal people, not, y’know, the freaking Institute!” His hands gestured wildly, as though Theo’s secrets were a tangible thing he could grab and shake. “He is so getting a strongly worded letter."
Yumiko tilted her head, her expression full of curiosity. "So… no dramatic family drama or grudges?"
"What? No!" Ajal turned to look at her, utterly baffled. "I couldn’t ask for a better big brother—except for when he hides things!" His voice rose again as if Theo could somehow hear him across time and space.
Ezekiel glanced sideways at him, unimpressed, as he casually cleaned the inside of his ear with his pinky finger. "Why not just text him?" he asked, flicking the wax off his finger with a look of mild disinterest.
Ajal stopped mid-step, turning to Ezekiel with a blank expression. "We don’t have phones."
"Huh?" The rest of Team Z froze, staring at him in unison, voices layered in disbelief.
"Yeah," Ajal replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Everyone in Crater Village was close. There wasn’t really a need for phones. The high school I went to was mostly kids from nearby villages, so phones weren’t a big deal there either."
Jean scratched his head, clearly trying to wrap his mind around this. "Huh… didn’t know you were from the outer zones, Ajal. I heard the Salarkistas are bad out there. That true?"
"Not really," Ajal replied with a shrug. "Some people from the city come every few years to replace the barrier. Although…"
"Although?" Yumiko prodded, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity fully piqued.
"We had one incident," Ajal admitted, his tone dropping slightly. "But a self-proclaimed hero saved the day."
"A self-proclaimed hero?" Yumiko raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.
Ajal grinned but didn’t elaborate, instead steering the conversation back toward lighter topics. The group’s chatter about village and city life filled the hallway as they walked, the energy slowly building as they neared their destination.
Finally, they reached the classroom door, which bore a sleek plaque engraved with “Year 1” in bold lettering. Ajal pushed it open without hesitation, and the sight before them was both impressive and oddly familiar.
The classroom was a spacious, tiered amphitheater, its walls made of polished stone that shimmered faintly with embedded runes. The ceiling was high and arched, with glowing lines of light tracing through the beams like veins, illuminating the room with a soft, natural glow. Rows of curved desks lined the space, each equipped with built-in screens and adjustable chairs that looked like they were made for both comfort and practicality.
At the center of the room stood a raised platform where the instructor’s desk and a massive blackboard-like screen dominated the space. The screen flickered to life as the team entered, displaying their class roster in crisp, glowing text.
What stood out most, however, was the wall to the student's left. It was made entirely of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the surrounding forest and the floating spires of the Institute in the distance. Birds occasionally darted past, and the sunlight streaming through the leaves cast shifting patterns on the classroom floor, giving the space a lively, dynamic energy.
Ajal’s gaze swept across the room, his earlier rant forgotten. "Whoa…" he muttered, his voice filled with awe.
"Fancy," Ezekiel said flatly, though he couldn’t quite hide the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he looked around.
"Nice of you five to finally join us," came a smooth, velvety voice from the front of the classroom. The source was quickly revealed as Lucius, the black cat, hopped onto the instructor's desk. The chains around his front paws jingled softly with the movement, and he raised a paw to adjust the oversized witch hat atop his head with practiced precision. His golden eyes gleamed as he gestured toward the seats with a flick of his tail. "Sit wherever you'd like."
The classroom was already buzzing with quiet energy. Though the students were spread out, it was obvious that teammates had instinctively tried to sit near one another, maintaining their bonds even in this new environment.
Rayven sat near the middle, humming softly to herself while swinging her legs back and forth under the desk. Her black nails, still intricately painted with purple swirls and silver studs, caught the light as she admired them. Zee, on the other hand, appeared to already be dozing off, her head resting on her arms, while Vail sat near the front in a posture so perfectly upright it looked almost unnatural—his focus razor-sharp and ready to absorb every word.
Meanwhile, Kiera was visibly annoyed by Rayven’s humming, her finger tapping repeatedly against the desk in mounting frustration. She muttered something under her breath, but Rayven, either oblivious or purposefully ignoring her, continued to hum.
Toward the back, Team A had also claimed their spots. Sosira leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on Lucius with an unreadable expression. Jing sat cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees in what appeared to be a meditation pose, his breathing steady and deliberate. Molly and Cassian sat side by side; Molly was sitting perfectly upright, her face calm but her movements precise as she occasionally leaned over to help Cassian, who was clumsily fumbling through his bag, dropping pens and papers in a quiet storm of disarray.
As for Team Z, Jean quickly claimed a seat at the far back, where Arc stood beside him, her posture as dignified as ever. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her eyes were closed, though her presence radiated quiet attentiveness. Yumiko found a spot beside Rayven, who glanced at her new neighbor with a cheerful smile. Yumiko returned the gesture, her expression brightening as they exchanged nods. Ezekiel ended up sitting next to Zee, who glanced at him with a sly giggle.
"Something funny?" Ezekiel asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really," Zee replied, burying her face into her folded arms. Her white afro spread across her desk like a fluffy cloud, leaving Ezekiel to sigh in mild exasperation.
Ajal, meanwhile, gravitated toward a seat by the window. He dropped into the chair with a satisfied sigh, but when he glanced to his right, he found Molly glaring daggers at him.
"Are you mocking me?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
"What? No!" Ajal said quickly, holding his hands up defensively. "I just always liked window seats."
"Hmph." Molly turned sharply away, her shoulders stiff. Cassian, catching the exchange, offered Ajal an apologetic look, pressing his hands together in a silent "Sorry" before turning back to his own chaotic pile of belongings.
Once everyone had settled, Lucius raised his voice, easily commanding the room’s attention despite his small size. "Now that everyone is situated," he began, his tone smooth and unwavering, "welcome to your first lecture, Arkphis Institute’s 99th Class."
The room fell silent as Lucius continued, the faint clinking of his chains the only sound as he paced atop the desk. Sunlight streamed through the massive glass window, illuminating the room and casting long shadows across the polished floors. The atmosphere was charged with the weight of what was to come, each student acutely aware that this was only the beginning of their journey.