Bob walked next to Merlin, his new mentor, feeling hopeful for the first time in ages. The academy grounds stretched out in front of him, bustling with life. Students chatted loudly, practiced fire spells, or read from huge magical tomes. Bob tried to walk confidently, chest out, soaking in the “future-mage” vibe.

But P.U.M.A. had other plans.

Ding!

A bright blue box popped up, sparkling right in Bob’s face. “+50 Stink Points for Completing the Mentor Quest!” it announced happily, like it was his best buddy. Then came the spam: “New Quests Available: ‘Prank a Peer,’ ‘Impress a Mage with Your Unique Talent,’ or ‘Find the Hidden Privy!’”

Bob's shoulders slumped. “Not now, P.U.M.A.,” he muttered. He glanced at Merlin, but the old mage was busy mumbling about runes, completely lost in his thoughts. Bob’s face turned red as he swiped away the notifications as fast as he could.

I’m a serious mage now, he told himself. No more stink magic. Just normal, fiery, flame magic.

Merlin rambled on about “discipline” and “study,” but Bob was too busy trying to swipe away P.U.M.A.'s relentless messages. Buzzing, dinging—it wouldn’t stop. He gritted his teeth and whispered, “P.U.M.A., stop it. I need to focus. Just... snooze or mute. Something.”

“Option not recognized, User,” the System replied, sounding smug. “Our paths are intertwined—compliance is non-negotiable.” The words flashed in animated, taunting letters.

Bob sighed. He felt like he was trying to outrun his own shadow. Just once, he wished he could do something normal. No stink. No jokes. Just be a mage.

But as he trudged forward, the notifications danced around his vision like fireflies he couldn’t swat away. And so, Bob’s battle to become a “real” mage began—a battle against stink magic... and the most annoying magical system ever.

Merlin led Bob through twisting hallways and up countless stairs until they reached the academy library—a maze of shelves reaching up to a ceiling painted like a starry night. The place smelled like old paper, candle wax, and... cheese? Bob wasn’t sure. But it felt like the kind of place where serious magic happened. He straightened his back, trying to look like he belonged.

Merlin was practically bouncing with excitement. He ran his fingers along the books like they were candy, stopping at a shelf labeled Fundamentals of the Flame Arts. He pulled out a thick, dusty tome, the cover cracked and scorched. “Ah, runes,” he said dreamily. “This is where it all begins, my apprentice.”

Bob nodded. Runes. Symbols to finally channel fire magic right. None of that... other stuff.

Merlin cleared a spot on a table and started piling books, one after another. Each hit the table with a heavy thud, and Bob’s excitement shrank a little more. These weren’t quick reads; they were massive, ancient tomes, with titles like Incendiary Incantations: A Beginner's Guide to Not Burning Yourself and Flaming Fundamentals: How to Control a Wild Element. One book had a big iron clasp, as if locking in its contents.

The last book Merlin added was The Essential Compendium of Runes, Volumes I to VI. All six volumes... bound as one gigantic tome.

“Now,” Merlin said proudly, “to control fire, you need to learn the runes. Be patient. No casting until you understand their power.”

“Right,” Bob said, eyeing the mountain of books nervously. “No casting. Just... runes.”

“Magic is like soup!” Merlin declared. Bob blinked. “Add too much spice, and you ruin it. Instead of a balanced blend, you get... chaos.”

Bob forced a smile. “Magic soup. No extra spice. Got it.”

But just as Bob was about to sit down and start his first book, Merlin leaned in close, staring into Bob’s eyes. “Remember, Bob. This isn’t easy. Learning fire magic is like... befriending a dragon. Be humble, be respectful, and be ready to get burned.”

“Uh... sure,” Bob said, giving a clumsy thumbs-up.

“Good!” Merlin beamed, then suddenly dumped the whole stack of books into Bob’s arms. Bob wobbled, trying not to fall over, as Merlin kept talking.

“No rush!” Merlin said, walking off. “Just read all of these. Twice. Then we can begin the real lessons.”

“Right,” Bob croaked, the pile of books crushing his chest. Merlin’s voice faded away as he disappeared around the corner, mumbling something about “discipline.” Bob sighed.

“Okay, Bob,” he muttered to himself, struggling to balance the stack. “Just you, some books, and a mountain of runes. How hard can it be?”

One book slid, almost hitting the floor. Bob caught it just in time and thought, Hopefully, this rune soup doesn’t taste too awful.

The academy looked simple enough from outside: big stone towers, tall windows, and banners flapping in the wind. But once Bob stepped inside, it was like a maze. Merlin had given him directions—third right, left up the spiral staircase, through the Hall of Echoing Wisdom, and boom, the New Students’ Supply Hall. Simple, right? But no. The halls kept shifting every time Bob turned his head.

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Everywhere he looked, it was madness. Walls shimmered, twisted, then reformed like nothing happened. Staircases spiraled to nowhere or just stopped. Bob wandered down one long hallway where the paintings gave him looks of disapproval, whispering behind his back. He felt totally lost.

“Great,” he muttered. “Just want to grab my supplies... not break anything... or stink up—”

WHOOSH!

A blast of flame flew past Bob’s ear, nearly roasting his hair. He yelped, ducking as a group of students practiced dueling nearby, fireballs and lightning bolts flying all over. One kid with crazy hair yelled, “WATCH OUT!” just as a fireball veered wildly off course—straight at Bob. He dived to the ground, face-first into glowing grass. Ow.

“Sorry!” the student called, but they went back to their spells right away, like nothing happened. Bob scrambled up and backed away, brushing grass off his clothes.

Well, that was close, he thought. At least nothing's on fire. Or—

Ding!

Bob cringed at the happy chime of P.U.M.A. A bright yellow box popped up in front of his eyes with flashy letters: “Stink Points Boost Available: ‘Share the Smell!’ Spread your scent to 5 new students within the hour!”

He swiped at it angrily. “Not now, P.U.M.A.!”

But P.U.M.A. wouldn’t stop. “Share the Smell! Share the Smell!” it chanted, and little stink clouds puffed around the notification like cartoon farts. Bob swatted at the message, but all he did was make it bounce around his vision like an annoying balloon.

“Just... go away!” he whispered, swiping frantically. He stumbled forward, trying to follow Merlin's directions, but every turn led to a different courtyard, hall, or staircase. It felt like the academy was messing with him, shifting around on purpose while P.U.M.A. cheered him on.

After nearly walking into a broom closet—twice—Bob gave up and dug out the map Merlin had given him. It looked fancy, covered in glowing runes and a big compass rose, practically begging to be helpful.

"Alright," Bob grumbled, unrolling it. "Just point the way, and let's get this over with."

The runes flared to life, flashing like someone had just thrown a party in Bob’s hands, and suddenly the map spoke—loudly, and with way too much attitude. "Left, you simpleton! And hurry it up! Do you need a guide dog, or can you manage to move your feet correctly?"

Bob blinked in surprise. "Uh... excuse me?"

The map sighed dramatically, almost like it was annoyed at being unfolded in the first place. "Straight ahead. Honestly, do you need someone to hold your hand? This way!"

The glowing runes flickered with something that looked suspiciously like eye rolls.

Bob's scowl deepened. "Yeah, real helpful," he muttered, trying to keep his temper. But the map’s bossy attitude only made him more lost, directing him right into another broom closet door with a thud.

“Fantastic,” Bob grumbled, rolling up the map. It seemed even magical items were in on the joke. “I'll manage on my own, thanks."

He stuffed the map back in his bag, where it continued to glow indignantly, as if silently saying, "Good luck—you'll need it."

Bob marched down another corridor, eyes darting for any sign he was heading the right way. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was in the library, the kitchens, or just some weird magic maze.

Then he heard voices. Loud, serious voices.

He peeked around the corner and saw a full lecture hall. Rows of students sat in silence, staring at the professor at the front—a tall, thin man with sharp eyes and a twitchy mustache. He was scribbling symbols on a chalkboard, the chalk snapping loudly. "Elemental Conduits and Their Interactions," read the fancy writing at the top.

“Perfect,” Bob whispered. “I’ll just ask for directions.”

But as soon as he stepped inside, the professor spun around, eyes locked on him. “You there!” he barked. The whole class turned to look.

“Uh... me?” Bob squeaked, pointing at himself.

“Yes, you! Latecomer!” The professor adjusted his monocle, glaring. “Sit down—NOW!”

Bob hurried to an empty seat at the back, trying to sink as low as he could. Maybe if he stayed quiet, no one would notice him again.

The professor cleared his throat. “Now, as I was saying before we were rudely interrupted…” His eyes flicked to Bob, then back to the board. “The Amber Orb, when combined with an Aquaflux Conduit, creates a reaction vital to transmutation spells.”

He paused, then jabbed his finger at Bob. “You! Care to explain the significance of this combination?”

Bob froze. All he knew about "amber" was that it was a color, and "Aquaflux" sounded like a shampoo brand. Sweat trickled down his forehead. He fidgeted nervously, scrambling for any answer. Say something... anything!

He took a deep breath and blurted out, “Uh... well, when you combine an Amber Orb with an Aquaflux Conduit... you, um... create a... self-heating chamber... for enchanted bathwater?” He grinned nervously, desperate to look confident. “Y’know, so you can have... a magical hot tub on the go?”

The class went dead silent for a second. Then, like a dam breaking, laughter erupted all around him. Some students giggled uncontrollably, others snorted into their hands, and one kid actually fell off his chair from laughing so hard.

The professor’s face, however, went from pale to beet red in record time. “A... magical... hot tub?” He was shaking with rage, the chalk crumbling in his hand. “OUT! OUT OF MY CLASSROOM THIS INSTANT!” He jabbed his finger at the door like he was trying to summon a lightning bolt. “This is an academy for mages, not a SPA for your ridiculous fantasies! OUT!”

Bob didn’t wait to be told twice. He bolted for the door, face burning. Even as he shut the door behind him, the sound of the students' laughter rang in his ears. “Smooth, Bob,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Real smooth.”

He wandered around for what felt like hours, lost and embarrassed. Just as he was considering hiding in a broom closet, he spotted a familiar face—Cooper, sneaking out of a classroom with a mischievous grin.

“Hey!” Bob called out, relieved. “Cooper!”

Cooper spun around and burst into laughter at Bob’s frazzled state. “What happened to you?” he asked, still chuckling. “You look like you’ve been trying to put out a fire with your bare hands! ”

“I, uh... walked into the wrong class. Might’ve mentioned something about a magical hot tub.”

“A hot tub?” Cooper's eyes lit up with glee. “Brilliant. I wish I'd seen that! Bet the professor lost it.”

“Oh, he did. And not in a fun way,” Bob said, wincing.

“Well, you’re off to a... unique start at the academy.” Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Pooper—I mean, Bob—I’ll show you around. This place is a maze, but stick with me, and you'll avoid more... hot water.” He waggled his eyebrows at his joke, clearly proud of himself.

Bob groaned, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks, Cooper. Just... let’s avoid any more magical messes today, okay?”

“No promises!” Cooper said cheerfully as he led Bob down another twisting hallway. And for the first time all day, Bob felt like maybe—just maybe—he'd be alright.