The campus pulsated with life. The arrival of the new year was a time of joy and expectation for many. During the warmer months on Earth's calendar, some students would journey back to their homeworlds. However, some chose to stay, either by choice or necessity.

Henryk perched on the stone rim of a fountain, eyes half-lidded as he wrestled with the exhaustion that clung to him like a shadow. He attempted to rub away the fatigue but found it to be more stubborn than he'd anticipated.

He looked around, the people chattering and milling about, and he couldn't help but feel a bit disheveled. He hadn't had a chance to bathe after the meeting, and the public showers weren't an appealing option.

There was no communal dormitory on campus, and while that didn't sound like a problem initially, the restriction was clear: if you weren't a member of a house, you couldn't enter. He lifted his arm, caught a whiff, and grimaced as he ran his hand across his face. He sneaked his fingers into the water and splashed it over his armpits. He was essentially bathing like a homeless person.

As he looked at the people around him, he realized that it was the second and older years who were engaged in conversation, reuniting with friends and acquaintances they hadn't seen for a while.

However, there was an undercurrent of tension, and something didn't sit right with him. People seemed to be sticking to their groups, and those groups were divided by colors. It wasn't about the elegance of the attire but seemed more about loyalty. He felt like an outcast, standing there with his unaffiliated grey attire, a color that didn't seem to fit in anywhere.

Scornful glances and glares were exchanged among these divided groups, and the atmosphere grew more charged. Henryk couldn't help but wonder, "What kind of school is this?"

His thoughts returned to the earlier tension between Logan and Piper. He found himself thinking of Ed, the way he had walked proudly, the insignia of his house displayed boldly. Despite the insults and animosity thrown at him, Ed remained steadfast and self-assured.

Henryk stood up, pushing the stray locks of hair from his face. Ed was an enigma, a reliable companion who had helped him when he needed it most. He barely knew the guy, yet he played a crucial role in Sirine's rescue.

But how could a hero come from a world that had betrayed the imperial family? The question hung in the air, haunting his thoughts.

Henryk paused, the weariness of it all pressing heavily upon his shoulders. Did it even matter? He barely knew Ed, and the accusations ricocheting around his head felt robotic, regurgitated from Jose and amplified by the reactions of others.

"Core world problems," he muttered, shaking his head, and he made his way toward one of the campus's dining halls. The place was strange, no doubt, but it beat the old town of his colony by miles.

As he traversed the campus, taking in the early morning sun rising upon the crescent, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Everyone he saw was new, every face unknown. Despite the strangeness, it was a chance for a fresh start, a new experience to grow. A bizarre sort of thrill coursed through him.

Entering the main dining hall, he found himself amidst a sea of new students, all dressed in the distinct colors of their houses. He felt a little out of place in his drab, unaffiliated uniform, but it was a minor detail. He loaded his tray with food and sought out a table.

Jose and Mag's waved him over, and he took a seat across from them. "Hello, Henryk," Mag's greeted him with a soft voice, nearly a whisper.

Henryk nodded, acknowledging their presence. He began to eat the unseasoned eggs and dry biscuits on his tray, oblivious to the watchful eyes of his two companions.

"You know there are forks and knives, right?" Jose pointed out.

Henryk looked up, noticing the cutlery at last. "It's just eggs and bread," he replied.

Mag's lightly smacked the back of his arm, causing Jose to wince. "Leave him alone," she defended him. "Let Henryk do his own thing."

Jose chuckled. "I'm just trying to teach him how to eat like a civilized man."

Mag's rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. You always think you have the right to tell people how to act."

Jose raised his hands in surrender, offering a sarcastic apology. Henryk rolled his eyes and continued eating.

Mag's appeared to be the quiet, sweet one, while Jose had a slimy, overbearing air about him. Henryk doubted that Jose would do anything drastic, but there were more important matters to address.

Henryk inquired, "Are you guys planning to visit any of the houses today?"

There was a brief silence among the three of them, and Henryk's gaze wandered to the students around them. Practically his entire year group was now donning the grey of houselessness. What would they do next?

They stood on the precipice of expulsion, their destiny hanging by a thread. In a matter of days, they had to secure a house or face the merciless expulsion from the school. For the eclectic mix of students who had ventured here, survival meant adapting, joining a house, and whatever it took to remain within these hallowed halls.

Jose nonchalantly shrugged, his noncommittal demeanor on full display. "I'm planning to explore the area today," he declared.

"Really, Jose?" Mag's retorted with a hint of exasperation. "By the end of the week, you need to have a house willing to sponsor you. You can't afford to dawdle."

"For God's sake, Mag's," Jose muttered under his breath, momentarily resentful, but he quickly regrouped with a resigned sigh. "I know, but I don't want the houses I'm interviewing with to think I'm too desperate."

Mag's rolled her eyes yet again and refocused her attention on Henryk. What started as a simple breakfast had taken a turn for the interrogative, casting a shadow over Henryk's mood. He particularly disliked the way Mag's scrutinized him.

"What's your plan for the day, Henryk?" Mag's inquired.

Henryk set down his fork for a moment and met their gazes. "I'm heading over to House Neptune," he revealed.

"House Neptune?" Jose echoed, skepticism oozing from his voice. "You think you're cut out for that?"

"What...?" Henryk mumbled, fixing a challenging stare on Jose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jose tried to backtrack, but Mag's was quicker to intervene. "He's just saying, Henryk, that guys like us from the frontier don't typically make it into the big-name houses."

"But isn't that the very reason we're here?" Henryk responded, a smile of determination spreading across his face. "To earn honor and glory, to bring pride to our families and hometowns. Don't you both aspire to the same?"

Their eyes widened briefly before narrowing in contemplative silence.

"You've got quite a bit to say about honor, Henryk," Jose noted.

Henryk merely shrugged and resumed eating, addressing them with a mouth full of food. "Honor is everything," he said between bites. He swallowed, and with a more contemplative look, continued, "It's our reputation and the traces we leave behind in the sands of time. It's the only proof that we ever existed."

An awkward silence descended upon the trio, punctuated by the surprising introspection in Henryk's words.

"Then you're a better man than both of us," Mag's chimed in with a surprised chuckle. "I mean it."

Jose hastily interjected, "Hey," but Mag's dismissed his protest with a wave, turning back to Henryk.

"We left home to provide for our families, to bring money back to our colony. Sure, our colony will benefit, but you're here to make your hometown proud. That's a noble goal."

Henryk paused, his gaze drifting from his tray to those around him.

"Noble?" Jose queried, turning toward Henryk. "Is that truly what you want, Henryk?"

Henryk faced Jose, lips poised to answer, but his words remained unspoken. He wore his thoughts on his sleeves, leaving Jose to interpret the silence.

Wrapped in self-contemplation, Jose gathered his arms around himself, his voice bearing the weight of unspoken questions. "What are you fighting for, Henryk?"

Rolling his eyes, Henryk muttered, "I've already told you that..."

"I don't believe that," Jose cut him off, leaning closer. An uncomfortable hush settled in their midst, and even Margoret's wide-eyed curiosity couldn't breach the eerie stillness. "That whole honor mumbo jumbo might be what you said, but I don't buy it."

"Excuse me?" Henryk blinked, bemusement eclipsing his initial confusion. But soon, Jose's words bore meaning.

"Don't get me wrong," Jose began, shaking his head and clutching his arms, "You seem like a good guy, but I don't believe that people can be so selfless. I'm not saying you don't care about your family or your town, but are you really telling me, Henryk, that you're only here for that? What about yourself?"

With a shrug, Henryk let out a groan. "Well, my town thrives, and so do I. Of course, I want to provide for my family and give them the life they deserve. What's your problem with that, Jose?"

Sighing, Jose elaborated, "I'm just saying, you don't come off like that kind of person."

Rolling his eyes, Henryk abandoned the conversation, rising from his seat. Casting a brief glance at Margoret and Jose, he announced, "I've got to start my house interviews. I'll catch you guys at lunch or dinner."

"Assuming we're even accepted into any," Jose added, though by that time, Henryk had already begun his departure.

Margoret's hand smacked Jose's shoulder, causing him to wince. "What was that for?" he protested.

Mag's sighed, her gaze fixed on Henryk's retreating form. "I don't understand why you had to provoke him," she said.

Jose shook his head. "I didn't mean to provoke him, Mag's. Besides, he's the guy who worked with those two champions. I've heard stories about how they saved the lord's daughter."

"Exactly," Mag's responded. "I appreciate Henryk for saving me from that stampede, but we should tread carefully in our interactions with him."

As she spoke, Jose watched her closely, his fingers interlaced and his gaze discerning. Mag's caught his look, and with a heavy sigh, she divulged, "There are rumors about Henryk. Some houses say he's a bad omen."

Those words elicited a hearty chuckle from Jose. "Bad omen?" he repeated, his laughter now infused with amusement. Mag's exasperation only deepened his amusement. "What are we, a bunch of superstitious tribesmen? Omens, seriously?"

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The words, stripped of their vigor, barely resonated, but Mag's stoked the embers, her voice weaving a web of intrigue.

She shook her head, imparting a sense of gravity to her words. "I've overheard a few of the first-years talkin', and they're sayin' this year is gonna be a tough one. There are houses wieldin' way too much power, overshadowin' the rest."

Jose offered a nod in concordance. "Well, then, we've got to find the top dogs of this school."

Mag's exhaled, the sound filled with weariness, and Jose swung his attention back to her. "You really think it's that simple?" She scoffed, her eyes rolling with doubt. "Jose, you ain't thinkin'. You honestly believe those house presidents are gonna make it that plain as day for us?"

"So what's your take, then?" Jose countered, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance, but Mag's, undeterred, met his gaze.

"I've spoken to some folks who entered this place on scholarships," she began. "The ones who made it in, they all warn to be cautious, not to ask too many questions."

"Huh?" Jose's brow furrowed.

Mag's nodded, her voice low and cautious. "This academy ain't your regular school. I've been delvin' into its history, and I've never found a trace of this expulsion threat for folks who don't pick a house. And remember that fight between House Neptune and House Mercury when we got here?"

Jose's eyes widened, recalling the scene. "Yeah, I remember," he replied, the memory's vividness returning, along with the intrigue surrounding it. In the car with Mag's and other students from across the galaxy, they had witnessed the academy's mech pilots duking it out. But as their knowledge of the academy deepened, so did the revelation of the complex political machinations they had unwittingly become embroiled in.

"It seems like we ain't alignin' with Mercury," Jose muttered.

Mag's breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the heavens for that," she said, punctuating her words with a dry chuckle. "Word is, Mercury's got the biggest roster in the school, or that's what most folks seem to believe."

"Huh?" Jose inquired, his confusion unabated. "How does that relate to…"

Mag's cut him off. "I heard that if you join up with Mercury, they'll let you stay at the academy, but you essentially become their servant."

"A servant?" Jose repeated, incredulous. "That's…"

"I guess for many, they'd rather take the abuse than get shipped back home. Everyone's got family and where they come from, and they're real worried about lettin' 'em down."

"True," Jose said, giving Mag's a friendly pat on the back, snapping her out of her contemplation. She turned toward him, and he wore a sly grin, causing her cheeks to redden. Yet, she managed to conceal her blush. "Thanks, Mag's. It's good to know we've got a backup plan if things get real desperate."

Mag's sighed as they both rose from their seats, ready to tidy up. "But still," Jose murmured, his voice laden with disbelief, "I can't fathom it's really that bad."

Mag's nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I get it, but I'd rather have you in the loop."

"Appreciate that," Jose added, and together, they began their stroll.

Unbeknownst to them, Henryk was on his way to House Neptune. His boots clapped against the freshly paved campus street as he traversed among fellow students. On occasion, folks approached him with high-fives and fist bumps, a recognition he couldn't deny brought a warmth to his chest. Yet, something tugged at his soul, a hidden facet he hadn't ventured into. The ideas of honor and pride intertwined within his ego, but he resisted the allure of false strength. Or was it?

Henryk sighed, the weight of his thoughts trailing him as he walked. Minutes later, he reached the dormitory of House Neptune, and it was an impressive sight.

The building, a five-story structure, resembled two L's fused together, adorned with rows of windows on each floor. Lights and shadows danced across the rooms. The house members tended to the gardens, painting the scenery in various shades of blue, from the flowers to the walls.

The wind tousled his unruly hair as he approached the entrance and—

"Stay in line! Keep it straight!" a house member barked.

Groaning, Henryk dropped his hands to his face, regarding the lengthy queue that snaked out the door. Innworlders mingled with the sons and daughters of intergalactic nobles, all equally bored as they endured the wait. Henryk joined the back of the line, his fellow aspirants eyeing one another with intense curiosity. Human and imperial species mixed, and mutants even applied here. The term "mutant" resonated in his mind, a deep secret he'd easily let go when the girl needed his help. He berated himself for his foolishness.

Time dragged on, possibly thirty minutes to an hour. Henryk observed and absorbed the strange customs of the school. Some interviews concluded swiftly, applicants darting out either in tears or shambles. Others endured hours of grueling interviews, exiting with stony expressions.

This school bewildered him, its complexity and opacity unraveling before his eyes.

Then, something furry bumped into the back of his uniform. He sighed, his patience waning. The Henryk of the past might have lunged at someone from his colony for such an intrusion, but—

It happened again, and this time he spun around. What he saw sent his eyes into saucer-like astonishment.

Homo Terresterial...

They called them the Homo Terrestrials, a name that labeled the bold souls who ventured among the stars. However, as one delved deeper into the core, the terraforming process took on an increasingly bizarre and alien flavor. With each stride humanity made into the uncharted reaches of the cosmos, they discovered worlds that defied every established notion of what a colonizable planet should be.

Henryk hailed from the deepest frontier, a place where, when the extraterrestrials came, they left not only their colonies but also the enigmatic remnants of their presence, a legacy wrapped in riddles and enigma. These worlds, cloaked in the allure of strangeness, held within them profound mysteries and unsettling questions.

There, the mark of the alien etched itself upon the fabric of humanity, leading to transformations, mutations, and the erasure of threads that once defined what it meant to be human.

Henryk spun around, a peculiar sensation tugging at his senses. He found himself face to face with a student, tall and imposing, a figure whose uniform drew his initial attention. Yet, it was the eyes that arrested him. Brown eyes, brimming with humanity, but there was something more, something different. They held a gaze that expanded beyond the borders of their features.

Henryk's eyes widened, then narrowed as he locked onto the figure. "Stop bumping into me," he declared, punctuating his words with a pointed finger pressed against the broad chest of the imposing young man. "Or you'll live to regret it."

This towering fellow exceeded Henryk's own height, a substantial six feet, but he stretched closer to six-foot-four or five. Muscle rippled across his youthful frame, a sight to behold even for someone his age. Henryk attempted to divert his focus from the less human attributes of his companion.

He concentrated on the human features—the brown eyes, the recognizably human layout of his face. In another life, under different circumstances, he might have appeared handsome. Without the mutations, perhaps he would have inspired awe or respect for his size and strength. Yet, the reality offered snickers and insults.

"I apologize," the young man said with formality, his tone carved into the contours of politeness. The voice emanating from his larger-than-life frame was smaller, softer, more akin to the gentle narrators in school audio books.

A fleeting thought of Ed flitted through Henryk's mind. Ed, who'd been the way he was with Henryk and Jose, who could be brusque at times. It was the only way he knew how to be. His mother had always called him a solitary spirit.

It had been an accident. An apology had been offered. So, with a sigh, Henryk nodded and turned back around, refocusing on the queue.

Then, it happened again. He pivoted, prepared for another confrontation. However, it was not at him that the strange young man stared but at the person who had been pushing him.

"Save my place," Henryk instructed.

"Um, sure," stammered the young man, momentarily taken aback. "But what are you going to..."

Henryk had distanced himself from the line, but his steps led him to the pair, or rather, the duo of trouble. Both of them were smaller in stature compared to the young men, but having brushed shoulders with the harsh winds of frontier racism, Henryk could easily envision the nature of this confrontation.

As the young man watched Henryk melt into the bustling crowd, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. He wondered whether Henryk had left the line to use the bathroom or grab a snack. It had been a rough first day, narrowly escaping a physical altercation, and now these two newcomers were already giving him a hard time.

"Mutant, move up," barked the shorter of the two, the malicious mirth lacing his words apparent.

The young man refrained from turning but instead offered a retort. "Firstly, my name isn't 'mutant,' it's Tyson." He twirled around briefly, revealing his rows of fangs that had replaced conventional human teeth. "Secondly, that guy wanted me to save his spot."

A hush lingered for a moment, then snickers crept in, followed by hearty laughter. "Move up," they chorused, urging him forward, but Tyson's legs remained unyielding.

"Move up," they repeated like a mocking incantation. Fists began to pummel him lightly at first, escalating in intensity as he stood resolute.

"I told you," Tyson lectured, exasperation lacing his words. "The guy who just left asked me to save his spot, and I'm not going to give it up."

"To hell with that guy," the taller one spat.

The shorter one nodded vehemently, his mop of black hair resembling a bowl cut bobbing with his enthusiasm. "Yeah, screw that guy," he chimed in.

Tyson endured the rain of light punches, mostly just an annoyance that would probably leave him bruised later. He'd suffered worse. He was grateful that the person in front of him hadn't swung around and—

Just as laughter filled the air amid the flurry of punches, Tyson caught sight of Henryk, and his heart raced.

Henryk approached with measured steps, each footfall resonating on the stone beneath. Ty observed how Henryk's fingers curled into clenched fists, his eyes locked onto the confrontation before him.

"Abomination, what are you even doing here?" taunted the shorter one, contempt and arrogance lacing his words. "This is one of the galaxy's greatest and most prestigious schools. What is a genetic anomaly like you doing here?"

Henryk had drawn closer, his hand swinging towards the shorter boy's shoulder. Ty turned his head slightly to gaze at Henryk. The short student stared, baffled, about to utter a response—

But then teeth, blood, and saliva exploded into the air as Henryk's fist struck. The short boy's body crumbled, flopping over himself like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Silence descended in the aftermath of the shocking punch, and for a moment, nothing was said.

The other fist came, and Henryk's head snapped back, his body stumbling but soon finding its footing. A bloodied grin crept across his features, and those who bore witness to the wild fight remained frozen, the students and agents of Neptune included, their reactions sluggish in the face of this unforeseen brawl.

Both the tall boy and Henryk drew heavy breaths, their fists clenched as the darkness of violence engulfed Henryk's mind. He had tasted blood, and unknowingly, something deep within him awakened. A fleeting, savage smirk etched itself onto his features. With a sudden swift maneuver, he ducked and darted away.

The taller boy lunged with a side punch, but Henryk nimbly evaded the attack, his body shifting like a seasoned brawler. He coiled himself around the taller boy, grasping his long mane of black hair, and forcefully pulled them both to the ground.

"What the fu—" the taller boy managed to sputter, but his words were cut short as Henryk's fist collided with his bespectacled face, shattering the glasses upon impact. Henryk secured his legs around his opponent, delivering a barrage of powerful blows.

The taller boy attempted to shield his face with his arms, and Henryk relentlessly assaulted him. He drove his knee into the man's midsection, causing bile to rise and drench his collar. The frenzied fight carried on, but Henryk was now disturbingly composed in his savagery.

"Enough, Henryk!"

The voice of Logan pierced through the violent haze, but it wasn't the garbled transmission of a 'WarCasket' Radio; it was real, tangible. Henryk froze, his grip still locked around the bloodied and bile-covered collar. He was aware now that they all stared at him, the onlookers having retreated to form a protective circle around the skirmish.

The shorter boy lay there, dazed and unmoving, while members of Neptune rushed to check on him. Henryk retreated, releasing the taller boy who fell to the ground with a thud, his chest rising and falling.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Another voice entered the fray. A figure with wild orange hair and a freckled face confronted Henryk, his clenched fists testifying to his anger as he towered over the shorter boy.

Henryk took a step forward, his fingers coiling into fists. His eyes darted around, and the atmosphere felt fraught with tension. His teeth clenched tight as he spoke through them.

"Should've not tested me," his words were chilling and purposeful, laced with a declaration of force and violence, because to him, it was the only way to make things right.

"You—" the imposing young man advanced, but someone stepped in to intervene.

Logan strode into the scene, his attire starkly contrasting the chaos around him, clad in a heavy blue sweater and a well-fitted pair of black jeans. A recent haircut had reduced his blond locks, and he wore that distinctive smirk that was uniquely his.

"Franklin, I've got this," Logan asserted.

Franklin halted, his gaze tracing the aftermath of the altercation. Members of House Neptune had hurriedly wheeled the shorter boy inside, while the taller one was receiving splashes of water to rouse him. Franklin's teeth clenched, and he turned to face Logan. "This, he just assaulted two of our guys," Franklin stated, but as he attempted to spot Henryk, Logan moved to block their view.

Logan shook his head. "Two of our guys?" he repeated with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around himself. He surveyed the line, his laughter echoing through the crowd. The bystanders couldn't help but feel that piercing gaze on them.

"You think this common lot of fools and whores is worthy of bearing the blue of Neptune?"

A silence fell, and for a brief moment, even the members of Neptune paused. Then, they resumed attending to the injured men. The line, however, remained fixed, caught between shock, repulsion, and a burgeoning frustration. Some recoiled, others heard the words but chose to stay put.

Henryk's gaze bore into them, his eyes narrowing. He had the impulse to yell "Cowards!" at the lot of them. First, they stood idly by as Tyson was targeted due to his racial background, and now, they sought to prioritize their own self-interest. Their arrogance and...

Henryk was about to turn away, but then he felt an arm encircle his throat. Not in a hostile manner, but like a friend hugging him close. Logan wore that smirk again, spinning Henryk around to redirect the crowd's attention away from the line and towards them.

"Henryk, he's the only one here worthy of bearing the blue," Logan declared.

Henryk froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. It was over; he had feared what might happen, but now it was all working out. On his very first day, he would wear the blue of Neptune, leading his family and home to glory.

"Come on, Henryk," Logan beckoned. "Let me show you around."

Henryk followed him, and a smile graced his features as he observed his surroundings while being led through the elegant glass doors of House Neptune. The House looked regal and inviting. Yet, in its reflection, he saw Tyson.

Unlike the envious glances from the others, Tyson was smiling at him. The feelings emanating from him were not those of jealousy; rather, he seemed genuinely happy for Henryk. It was as if he felt a sense of pride, knowing that Henryk was worthy of acceptance. In that moment, a kinship formed between the two mutants.