It didn’t take long to recognize her, though I was startled at how quickly she seemed to recognize me.

The old woman—or rather, the dean, I should call her—simply stared, her lips drawn in a calm, unmoving smile that only deepened the silence in the room. The silence stretched into minutes, unbearable enough that I finally caved.

“Am I in trouble?” I ventured, breaking the silence.

The dean tilted her head ever so slightly, still smiling as she began in a soft, almost sympathetic tone. “Well, as Mr. Hyren may have already mentioned, we do encourage spirited sparring and even the occasional duel between students. But there are limits, Mr. Boone.” She paused, and her gaze grew somewhat sharper, though the calm in her voice remained.

“While it is… let’s say… a touch embarrassing for our academy to be home to such a weak student, rules are rules. You cannot simply pummel another student to within an inch of their life.”

Her words were steady, as if she were reciting a bad joke. Though I could swear there was a hint of humor under her formality. Almost like she didn’t want to punish me at all, which was odd.

“I left him alive. Plus, he provoked me first,” I retorted, feeling the bitterness simmer.

“You mean he hurt your pride, didn’t he?”

That too.

“Look here, Mr. Boone,” she continued, her tone shifting to one more measured, more… sincere. “You’re a promising student, and I believe you’ll go far as long as you remain here at the academy. But rules cannot be broken, and I cannot make exceptions for you solely based on your potential. Do you understand?”

The words stung, but there was no point in talking back. At least I wasn’t getting kicked out. “Understood,” I muttered.

She inclined her head approvingly. “Good. You may return to your dorm now. Seeing as you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll let you off without punishment this time.”

I couldn’t help the smile that broke across my face as I muttered a quick thank you and reached into my pocket for my room token. Just as it began to glow, her voice broke through once more.

“Oh, and 'Mr. Boone',” she added, that eerie smile creeping back onto her face. “Please, enjoy your stay at the academy.”

Before I could process her words, I was back in my dorm room, alone. I could have spent hours thinking about the strange encounter, or what the dean’s tone had hinted at, but truthfully, I didn’t care. All I saw was my bed, looking back at me like a dream I’d been waiting for. With nothing holding me back, I threw myself onto it, letting the soft, welcoming embrace pull me under.

Paradise.

⥁

“I’m not wearing this!” My voice bounced around the dorm as I held up the ridiculous uniform.

Ben groaned, already dressed, standing with his arms crossed. “Jai, come on. Orientation starts in ten minutes. Just put it on and let’s go.”

“I’ll look like a stuck-up rich prick! I refuse!” I retorted, glaring down at the shimmering fabric as though it were my sworn enemy.

“Suit yourself” He shrugged.

"Thank you." I grinned widely, turning once more, but just as I began to walk, a weight pressed down on my shoulder.

My head spun back to see Bens eyes piercing through me.

"Although, they do say people who skip orientation don’t last long here."

“…You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course not.” He responded instantly, not a hint of emotion in his words.

“Fine,” I grumbled.

The morning had started out pleasantly enough; the bed had been so perfect I’d have happily stayed in it forever. When I finally pried myself up, I spent a good while exploring the room. But finding a bathroom proved harder than expected until I realized it was actually connected to Ben’s room.

The bathroom was understatedly complicated, though certainly nicer than the old shed I’d grown up using. It had a kind of sleek, polished look, all frosted glass and matte steel. A subtle touch-sensitive panel adjusted nearly everything, from lights to water temperature. When I stepped in front of the mirror, it automatically brightened, casting a soft, adjustable light that followed my movements. The sink was recessed, and as I passed my hand beneath it, a cool, scented stream appeared. And the shower… a seamless glass panel on the other end with a small control panel for temperature and pressure.

Efficient, not overly flashy, and thankfully intuitive enough to use without a guide. And for some odd reason I felt like I'd already seen it, but I threw the thought away. I didn’t linger long, though, as Ben was already dressed and waiting.

Back in my room, just as I was beginning to dress in my usual clothes, Ben stopped me. He was wearing the strangest outfit, somehow a cross between formal and pompous. And apparently, I’d been provided the same. An academy uniform. Gone were the practical, comfortable clothes I’d brought with me. Now, I’d be stuck wearing whatever this was—my worst nightmare made reality.

Grudgingly, I snatched the uniform out of his hands, holding the fabric between my fingers and grimacing. After a few moments of internal resistance, I began to change.

Minutes later, I found myself looking down, utterly dismayed at the outfit clinging to me. The jacket was an ominous shade of dark midnight that shimmered subtly between blue and black, as if it were woven with shadows.

Each shift of my body seemed to bring it to life, almost as if it breathed. The collar and cuffs were embroidered with intricate constellations, silver threads looping and curling in miniature galaxies that, to my horror, actually glowed when I brushed my wristband over them.

“Really?” I muttered under my breath, rubbing at one of the constellations, which pulsed faintly, reacting to my touch as if it had a mind of its own. A part of me recoiled at the strange, almost sentient feel of it. Not only was I supposed to wear this, but it was interactive. Fantastic.

The jacket’s high collar pressed against my jaw, stiff and uncomfortable. I could barely turn my head without feeling it dig in. Beneath it, I wore a plain black shirt, though even this was infused with some high-tech fiber that, as the guide Ben had tossed me noted, “absorbed and redirected impact.” Probably useful for someone looking to brawl… or me. I’d just wanted a shirt that fit, not something that “adjusted” itself to every move I made.

Stolen story; please report.

The pants were less unsettling but only slightly. Lightweight, flexible, and oddly tough. There was a strip of faintly glowing embroidery running down each leg, like an enchanted seam that supposedly helped with agility. “Dodging attacks,” Ben had explained. Great, as if walking down the hall here was a matter of life and death. Even the boots were magnetic—though why I’d need magnetic boots remained a mystery. They weren't active, and according to the guide it was a very tedious process to activate them, so I'll leave that for another time.

Finally, there was the wristband, snug and metallic, inlaid with a small crystal that flickered with a faint, ghostly light. The guide explained that this would be my communication and navigation device, and that it held some sort of enchantment I could feel faintly thrumming against my wrist. Apparently, it was essential. I was unimpressed. I mean we already have our Tenus.

But the worst part? The cloak. Heavy, almost regal, it was clasped over one shoulder with the academy’s crest—three interlocking rings around a shining star. The fabric shimmered with a strange, otherworldly gleam, like liquid moonlight. It screamed wealth and prestige, practically announcing to everyone that I was a pretentious academy student now.

Just perfect.

"Hey there's a page ripped from the note thing you gave me." I remarked, looking at the missing gap in pages.

"Oh, it probably came like that. Mines missing that page too." Ben shrugged it off.

I sighed, thinking nothing of it and turned back to my reflection. Though I wish I looked back to see me wearing normal clothes.

I sighed and tugged at the stiff collar. “All this, just to sit in a classroom?”

“That’s not even close to what the academy’s like,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. Before I could retort, he’d pressed his token, disappearing in a flash of light.

Grumbling, I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time, my hair now slicked back thanks to Ben’s persistence. Grudgingly, I touched the token on my wrist, and suddenly the world around me blurred and spun as I was transported once again.

My vision refocused to a scene I’d rather have never witnessed. Two people, in the midst of... well, a situation. They jumped apart, eyes wide and horrified.

“W-who...what the hell?! How did you get in here?” one of them screamed.

My jaw dropped, my stomach twisted. “Where the hell am I?!”

“You’re in our room! Get out!” The man in front of me was scrambling to pull his shirt on, his partner doing the same.

“This isn’t my fault! I was just trying to get to orientation! What… oh god,” I groaned, fighting the urge to retch.

The man’s face twisted in anger and, I assumed, embarrassment. “Our room is our business! Or do you have a problem because we’re men?”

“I—what? No! I don’t care who you are! I just—what I saw, I’ll never unsee!” I clamped my hands over my eyes, silently cursing my luck.

I slapped my thumb down on my token once more, feeling a rush of nausea as the teleportation process kicked in. When I finally opened my eyes, I was back in my room, safe from the horrendous sight.

I lowered my hands, but kept my eyes tightly shut, silently begging that I was done with any further visions of horror. Just the faint hum of my token vibrating beneath my thumb kept me focused, and I pressed down on it once more, barely daring to breathe as the world shifted around me.

The room was silent now, no voices echoing around me, hopefully no sights to scar me further. Slowly, carefully, I cracked one eye open. My heart beat hard in my chest, but relief swept over me as I realized I was back in my room. Safe. Free from… that.

But before I could release my breath in peace, a hand clamped onto my shoulder.

“AH!” I yelped, whipping around with my arms raised in some poor semblance of defense.

“Whoa! Chill out!” Ben barked, arms raised as if to block my flailing fists. “What the hell, man? Why are you taking so long? I've been waiting down by the exit for minutes! Let's go! We’re late already!”

I blinked, trying to calm my still-pounding heart. His expression was sharp, a lot edgier than the calm guy I’d met yesterday. Something about this place was getting to him already. “Sorry, I– I just… I really don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, clutching my shoulder where his hand had been like I could still feel it there.

Ben arched an eyebrow. “What’s got you so–”

“Let’s just go,” I snapped, cutting him off. My voice came out harsher than intended, but the panic still clung to my words, making my throat feel tight.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh as he slapped his token, his annoyance clear. “Fine, but try to keep up,” he muttered, I nodded and placed my hand down on his shoulder, closing my eyes as we both teleported out of the room.

I barely had time to process our surroundings before Ben grabbed my wrist, practically yanking me into a run. The hallways blurred by, marble and stone, torch sconces and stained glass all morphing into an indistinguishable rush of colors and shapes. My lungs started to burn as he pushed us past massive buildings I swore hadn’t even been there before. Every corner turned revealed yet another sprawling corridor or towering structure, reminding me that I was, quite literally, lost in this place.

After what felt like an eternity, we skidded to a stop outside a vast white marble building, grand and pristine, a faint luminescence glinting off the polished stone as though it captured the sun’s rays, even within the academy’s walls. A surge of chatter and laughter echoed from within, filtering through the open doors. Ben gave me a look of intense relief, muttering a quick “Thank the stars,” and pulled me inside.

The building was packed with other students, all donning the same gleaming uniforms with slight modifications here and there for the women’s attire. Some chatted in hushed whispers; others laughed outright, voices blending into a near-deafening symphony of young energy and anticipation. It was an odd, almost surreal sight. Just yesterday, these same students had looked ready to tear each other to pieces, yet now they mingled as if they were friends who have never once thought of harming one another.

The worst part however, was that it seemed that only Ben and I wore the cloaks. Great, now we know what was on the torn up page. Wearing the cloak wasn't even mandatory.

Ben steered me towards the back of the crowd, his gaze fixated on the stage at the front of the gymnasium, where a faint glimmer of movement caught my eye. I squinted, struggling to recognize the room in the well-lit setting. The pale walls, the high arches—this was the same gymnasium I’d been dragged into yesterday, though with the harsh fluorescent lights now replaced by a soft, steady glow from the enormous chandeliers that hung like floating lanterns from the ceiling. For a moment, the hum of excitement and nervous chatter faded as my focus narrowed on the figures at the front.

Two people stepped onto the stage. One, a woman, looked plain and unassuming, her face calm and unreadable, her stance relaxed yet firm. Beside her was a young man, whose appearance struck a strange, almost haunting familiarity within me. He was tall, his uniform identical to ours, save for a short, dark shoulder cape embroidered with a sword and a set of scales—a crest I hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t the uniform, though, that caught my attention. His eyes were a piercing, icy blue, sharp and clear even from a distance, their intensity riveted on the audience in a way that made my skin crawl. His hair, a rich chestnut brown, was pulled back into a casual yet deliberate bun, giving him a composed, almost regal bearing. There was something in his stance, in the way he held himself that struck a chord of recognition.

He raised a hand, and the gym fell silent, anticipation thickening the air until it felt almost tangible. The man’s gaze swept the crowd, taking in each row of students. A strange tension twisted in my stomach, and I could feel Ben shifting beside me.

And then he spoke, his voice like thunder through the stillness. “Welcome, all of you, to your new life within the academy walls.”

His words were smooth, practiced, each one delivered with a confident resonance that left no room for interruption.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this more times than you care to count since arriving, but introductions are in order. I am Tristan Sun, your student council president and the head of the House of Flame. And today, I am here to welcome you… personally.” His eyes swept over us once more, lingering at the front before glancing towards the back rows, where Ben and I stood. The hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but his gaze lingered on me just a moment too long, his brows drawing slightly together.

My stomach churned, a wave of nausea threatening to rise. I couldn’t shake it—the certainty that I knew him, and yet couldn’t quite recall from where. The familiarity clawed at my mind, gnawing at the edges of a recent memory, blurring and sharpening in turns until it hit me.

“Oh god,” I whispered under my breath, the realization sinking in like a stone. “I’m going to throw up.”