The great gates of Prestigeon swung wide, revealing corridors lit with floating lanterns and glass walls pulsing faintly with astral light. Students stepped cautiously across the threshold, their voices hushed with awe as the Academy swallowed them whole.
Professor Selora led the way, her staff tapping softly against the marble floor. Every step echoed like a decree.
"Initiates," she began, her voice carrying effortlessly, "you will be given a brief tour through these corridors so you may glimpse the place you now belong to. From here, we will proceed to the Grand Dining Hall, where the Sorting Ceremony shall commence."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. "Sorting Ceremony?" one boy whispered.
Selora's eyes flickered back, sharp as a blade.
"Yes. There, you will stand before the Constellation Flames. They will reveal your path — and your Binding. Each of you will be chosen by one of the Zodians, whose power will shape your future at Prestigeon. Your Binding is not a mere assignment. It is your truth, your destiny, drawn from the stars themselves."
Gasps broke from the students, some with excitement, others with unease.
De'Oliver's eyes went wide. He nudged Jordan. "Bro, did you hear that? Zodian Bindings. We're talking, like, actual gods picking sides. Think I've got a shot at Leo? Or maybe Sagittarius? He's my kind of vibe."
Jordan gave him a look, half amused, half anxious. "What if you get stuck with Scorpio?"
De'Oliver made a face. "Then I quit. No way I'm running around with a poison tail and no friends."
Behind them, Jayden's voice cut like steel. "Weaklings. It doesn't matter which Zodian chooses you. Power is power. And I'll take it all."
Several students glared at him, muttering under their breath, but Selora raised her staff once more, silencing the group.
"Quiet your tongues. Each Binding is sacred. It is not the Zodian who is bound to you, but you who are bound to them. Remember this — arrogance in the face of the stars is a swift path to ruin."
The lanterns flared brighter as if affirming her words. The procession moved deeper into the corridors, the air heavier with anticipation.
Ahead, faint music echoed — the heartbeat of the Academy leading them toward the Grand Dining Hall.
The Sorting awaited.