James Robertson paced around the electronic board in the same manner as a college professor. His deceptively young features twisting into casual smiles as he regarded all of us.

The students that were born and raised in Dunstonberry were all paying him a respectable amount of attention.

In contrast, the new arrivals from the farm were practically burning holes into him with their stares. Apparently word had gotten out that he was the first-born son and heir of Mr. Robertson, and everyone coming in from a life of near-starvation were more than ready to score brownie points in this brave new world they found themselves in.

'Though I guess that's the smart thing to do in this situation.' I mused. 'For someone who just got their core and doesn't have any kind of special Skills, this must seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity.'

"First of all, allow me to thank each and every one of you for attending this special lecture." He said. Addressing the new arrivals.

His words carrying an easy grace and air of authority that made him seem both more authoritative and more approachable at the same time.

"I know you have a busy schedule and I know this is a period of great upheaval for all of you. On behalf of all of us here in Dunstonberry and on behalf of all the peoples of the world, we thank you for your hard work and excellent attitude. I promise that each and every one of you will benefit greatly from this lecture, as well as from the connections you may form while studying here with us in the near future."

He then proceeded to walk around the classroom. Addressing all the new boys and girls by name in their native language.

Now, I had no idea what pitch perfect Korean was supposed to sound like, but given the reactions he got, I was pretty sure he was nailing it.

"With that in mind, I propose we begin this session with some introductions. You all have become familiar with our regular students after last week's exercise on the 9th floor of our local Dungeon, but I don't believe all of you have had the opportunity to meet our dear Cecil and his siblings."

He beckoned towards me.

"Cecil, Progress, Mercy, Mike, Dana, Dorothy, Patience. Why don't you come up to the front and introduce yourselves?"

We all froze.

Our eyes simultaneously growing bigger, while shifting over to where coach Russell was standing.

His mouth said: "Come on up. Don't be shy."

His eyes said: "GRAWGAWAR!! SARGRWAGRR!! SNAAARL!!"

"Mike wants to go first." Dana blurted out. Pushing the sacrifice with perhaps a bit too much force.

Mike stared back at us with an expression of: "Et tu Brute?"

His own eyes betraying the fact that an actual stab wound would have hurt less.

And he wasn't the only one.

I and the others were staring back at Dana with mute horror. With Dorothy being the only one who seemed to stay on her side.

'Is that the effect of [Bloodlust]?' I wondered belatedly. 'Uncle Uter said something about it being a voice that told you to stand up for yourself. But that seems more like psychopathic behavior to me.'

"Splendid." James spoke up with cool confidence. "Why don't you start us off Mike?"

He nodded and moved closer. Making sure to stay as far away from the coach as the space would allow.

"Hi, everyone. I'm Mike Fowler. Formerly Cecil Fowler and now a copy of Cecil Fowler that split up about the time I was created. My core is [Doppelganger]. A 7th Stage Core."

He paused.

"Kind of. I have a single Skill that copies other Skills at 80% efficiency and I have two slots for copied Skills. I can mix and match them, but it's more or less a gimmick at this point."

He looked back to the younger Mr. Robertson for confirmation that he was done and the he scurried back to us as soon as he got it.

I decided to take the plunge and go next.

"Hi everyone. Uh. I'm Cecil Fowler. Or, Mr. Conan to some of you."

The Korean students' eyes shone with a mix of curiosity and expectation.

"My Core is called [Life] and I am level 2. I can shapeshift and create units and make plants grow better." I paused to swallow the lump in my throat. "I can also heal and take over Dungeon floors."

I moved back.

Dana and Dorothy followed.

"Hi. I'm Dana."

"And I'm Dorothy."

"We think of ourselves as twins."

"Even though we are both Cecil Fowler."

"It is very weird."

"We can do most of what he can do."

"But worse. Our core is [Chimera]."

"A 4th Stage Core."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Unlike our old 7th Stage Core."

"We focus mostly on transforming ourselves."

"And that's about it."

They moved back.

Mercy went after them.

"Hello. I too was previously Cecil. I am now Mercy. My core is [Sanctuary]. A new 7th-Stage Core. I can make zones of safety where nothing can attack me or any of my friends without being walloped first or after. My zones can also heal and make people stronger over time."

She went back to our collective spot.

Making room for Progress.

"Hi everyone. As you can probably guess, I am also Cecil. Or, I was Cecil. Until Cecil, or I, lost our minds and made me. My Core is at the 6th Stage. It is called [Logistics]. A name that I definitely did not pick."

She paused to glare at James Robertson. Then she turned right around to glare at me, before taking turns to glare at everybody else.

"I picked the name because that is the main crux of what it can do." James offered. Seemingly taking the snarky comment in stride.

"It is an amazing Core, with nigh-unlimited potential."

"It is a piece of hot wet garbage." Progress countered. "It's like the [Space] Core. But worse. In just about every way. Despite it being the same Stage. While that Core lets you teleport around and grab things into pocket dimensions and create small rifts in space that slice people in half, my Core lets me tag people with one of the only two Skills I have. Then my other Skill lets both me and them pick up stuff and put them into a shared pocket dimension. Everyone can take stuff out of the shared space and everyone can put stuff in. That's it. That's all it can do. I have no offensive abilities whatsoever."

She walked back to our spot.

Patience took her place at the front immediately after. Looking no more thrilled than she was.

"Hi. I'm Patience and I'm in the same boat. Only, I have no Skills on the Analyzer, because the bloody thing can't even tell what Cores make up my own Core. Apparently the thing is so novel no one has any prior data on it. All it can tell is that I have a 7th Stage core, but aside from that, nothing. It doesn't even have a name."

"Yet." James Robertson cut in. "It doesn't have a name, yet. That last part is very important."

Patience shrugged.

"If you say so."

Then she went back to our corner. Not caring in the slightest about the stares we were all getting.

"Now then, I'm sure you all have some questions about what just happened." The man began again.

'Yeah. No kidding.' I thought bitterly. 'I know the most out of everyone here and I have the most questions.'

"The main crux of the issue we are faced with is a lack of knowledge. That is perfectly normal. After all, magic is a new shiny toy to us all. Our organization has been experimenting with magic since the early 50s and we still don't know everything there is to know."

He let out a dry self-deprecating chuckle.

"Again, that is perfectly normal. If we compare it to other , newer fields of science such as, let us say... Psychology or Anthropology, Magical Studies is very, very new. Those other fields at least have the benefit of a couple of centuries of dedicated research behind them. In contrast, we've been looking into magic for less than one century. And we've had the proper tools to research magic for less than half of that time."

He pulled a remote from his waist and began to bring up slides on the board.

The first one showed several graphs with different labels on the X and Y axis. The second showed pictures taken from within my Dungeon.

'My Dungeon!' Pool Cecil hissed.

'Yeah yeah. Whatever.'

"As such, we will begin today's special lesson with the few aspects of Magic we do know and then follow up with the research methodology we use to find out more things about Magic. Finally, we will be going over some of the more advanced techniques that older students use to flesh out their Skills and builds."

He paused to give us all a wide grin.

"Usually, we would leave these techniques aside until you were all 15 or so, since these first years are supposed to be used to gain as many stats and regular Skills as possible. The logic being that those stats and Skills will then serve as a foundation for everything else. That said, most of you regular students have done some remarkable work training yourselves up until now. Almost all of you are level 2 and quite a few are reaching towards level 3 with grasping, greedy fingers. Some adjustments to your tutelage is warranted, given how well you're all doing."

He barked out a quick laugh. Practically oozing charisma and easy charm.

"Who knows? Maybe we should incorporate your recent struggles into our regular training regimen. It does seem to have paid significant dividends for you all and every sacrifice you make now will translate into awesome might later on in life."

He pointed at the new students.

"Isn't that right kids?"

"Yes! Mr. Robertson!" They all said at once. With far too much enthusiasm.

It was clear that I had missed a lot of things while I was out. Where the regular students were looking at James Robertson with some reverence, the newer students from North Korea practically worshipped him. Their attention hanging on every word as if their lives depended on it.

"Fantastic!" He exclaimed. "Now then, if you'll please pay attention to these graphs I have on the board. This first one shows Magic levels worldwide per year. Starting at 1967 when we first started measuring them at different spots of the world with any real degree of accuracy. The first thing you'll notice is that Magic levels increase gradually. The second thing you'll notice is that the degree by which Magic levels increase also increases with time. That, the increase is not a linear equation."

He clicked the remote and brought up another slide.

"Neither is it evenly distributed across the world. There are a total of 42 hotspots as of this presentation. Some older than others. They all attract more Magic than the rest and 11 have already formed into Dungeons. With the rest looking more and more like blossoming Dungeons every day that passes."

Another click brought up an image of a confused cartoon cat.

"But what even is Magic?"

He turned to face us all.

"Anybody?"

I sheepishly raised my hand.

"Yes, Cecil."

"The power to change the world in a way that doesn't conform with physics." I tried. "Or regular science in general."

I paused to gauge everyone else's reaction before continuing.

"It's a way to make unnatural things happen through non-scientific means." I tried again.

"True and true." Mr. Robertson declared. "Or, rather, half true. That would be an acceptable definition coming from a layman. Someone who enjoyed occultism without actually knowing hat Magic is in our world or what its rules are. And there are rules, Cecil. Magic might not be what one might call a hard science yet, but it'll get there. I promise you that."

He gave the remote another click.

"In fact, that leads us to a very interesting question. Why call it Magic at all?"

I stared at him dumbly.

"Because its magical?" Mike offered. "I dunno, it doesn't seem that complicated to me."

"Ah." Mr. Robertson countered. "But therein lies the trick, Mr. Fowler. What we call Magic might see magical and nonsensical to a layman, but we know more than they would. For example, we know that Magic is not some ethereal force. It is a form of energy that moves through wavelengths. Similar to light and sound."

He paused to grin at Mike.

"Would you consider a radio magical, Mr. Fowler?"

"No?" He spoke up. Now looking abashed.

"Now now. I'm not trying to ridicule you Mike. I'm only offering a different perspective. The fact is, we still call it Magic because, while it has rules and patterns of behavior, those rules are still too loose and unknown to be classified as a science. Other wise, we might call Magic something like Energy-M. Matter of fact, some of my own children and nephews are adherents to this philosophy. They claim that calling this power Magic is unscientific and that it is merely another kind of energy that has not been properly defined or researched to a satisfactory conclusion."

He clicked the remote again. Bringing up more graphs.

"In any case, what do we know?"

He gave the room another glance.

His gaze feeling like probing tentacles.

In all honesty, I'd never thought about it much.

Magic was magic and it worked because it was magical. How else would someone explain me being able to shapeshift at-will or me being able to grown back limbs in moments?

I leaned in closer.

Trying to think of what the answer might be.