Eryndor watched Rein and the principal disappear around the corner before letting out a long breath.
"…I'm really not getting a normal school experience, huh."
He shook his head, brushed his bangs from his eyes, and continued toward the dorms. But the academy wasn't done with him—not even close.
Because the moment he stepped into the Hall of Convergence, the atmosphere shifted.
The air rippled—subtle but sharp, like the split-second before lightning forms. Students filtered through the corridors, some chatting, some rushing, but many stopped when they saw him.
Whispers rose again.
"That's him—Nasarik."
"The one the principal stopped."
"He already left class early on the first day—Lysan actually let him."
"Must be nice to be a prodigy."
Eryndor ignored the chatter and kept walking—
Until a voice called out behind him.
"Nasarik."
He paused.
Rein Clark approached again—this time without the principal.
Rein's steps were slower, heavier, like he'd made up his mind about something. His violet-gold eyes narrowed as he studied Eryndor's posture, his calm breathing, the faint Ether traces still drifting around his fingertips.
Rein clicked his tongue. "You're annoyingly composed."
Eryndor shrugged. "I could say the same about you."
Rein almost smirked… almost.
He stopped an arm's length away.
"Don't get the wrong idea," he said quietly. "I didn't stop you to talk. I stopped you because I need to understand something."
Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"
Rein leaned in slightly.
"When the principal asked about your goals… you didn't hesitate."
"That was the easy part."
Rein shook his head.
"No. That was the part most people lie about."
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, the hallway seemed to dim, the world narrowing to the quiet tension between two rising storms.
Rein continued:
"There are two types of students here, Eryndor."
"The ones who chase power."
"And the ones power chases."
He stepped back, expression shifting into something sharper—interest, challenge, maybe even respect.
"You're the second kind. I can feel it."
Eryndor didn't respond.
Rein turned to leave—
—but paused mid-step.
"One more thing."
Eryndor waited.
Rein didn't look back when he said:
"I don't hate you. But I'm not letting you outrank me either."
Then he walked away, leaving Eryndor standing alone again in the hall, a faint laugh escaping his lips.
"…This place really is going to be interesting."
Scene Change — Dormitory Hall
By the time Eryndor reached the dorms, the sun outside had turned orange, casting warm light across the academy's stone walkways.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Kaelus was lying upside-down on his bed.
Darius was quietly reading in the corner, wrapped in shadows like they were a blanket.
Darius looked up first.
"You were gone longer than expected."
Kaelus rolled off the bed, landing on his feet like a cat. "Bro. Did you fall into a dimensional crack or something?"
Eryndor shut the door and stretched.
"No. Just ran into Rein Clark."
"And… the principal."
Kaelus froze.
"…I'm sorry, you ran into WHO?"
Darius closed his book slowly.
"That… is not normal."
Eryndor shrugged.
"Welcome to the academy."
Kaelus grabbed Eryndor by the shoulders. "Tell me everything."
Eryndor told them—about the hallway, the principal, Rein's challenge, everything. By the time he finished, Kaelus was pacing like a man preparing for war.
"That guy—Rein—he's aiming for the top seat this year," Kaelus muttered. "You just got here and already—"
Darius interrupted quietly.
"He's not angry. He's intrigued."
The two looked at him.
Darius continued, voice low and calm:
"In this academy, the strong don't hate rivals."
"They look for them."
Eryndor smirked. "Then I guess I'm in trouble."
Kaelus laughed. "Or you are the trouble."
Night fell gently across the academy, lamps lighting the walkways with soft blue runes. Eryndor stepped out onto the balcony of their dorm, looking over the sprawling academy grounds.
The wind brushed past him—light, calm, familiar.
But beneath that calmness…
Eryndor felt something.
A prickle.
A stirring.
Like a hand brushing over the surface of his soul.
He narrowed his eyes.
"…That wasn't the wind."
Behind him, Darius turned a page of his book, voice steady.
"You felt it too?"
Eryndor didn't turn around.
"What was that?"
Darius hesitated.
Then answered:
"A presence."
"Watching the academy."
"Not a student… and not a god candidate."
Eryndor's jaw tightened.
"Then what?"
Darius folded his book shut.
Something in his shadow flickered.
"A higher being."
Eryndor exhaled slowly.
The night suddenly felt colder.
And far less empty.