The Library Hall was the first place in the Academy that didn't feel like it was watching me. High ceilings, curved shelves, and the soft buzz of mana lamps—quiet enough to breathe.
Most students preferred noise. Good. Less competition for silence.
I scanned the room automatically. Old habit. A few bookworms scattered around, heads buried in tomes, none of them interested in me. Perfect.
I found a corner table with a wall behind it. Not because I expected danger—just because comfort is a hard thing to unlearn. The table gave me a wide view of the hall without anyone sitting too close.
The books here were… overwhelming. Not in a bad way. More like staring at a reservoir after living on drops. I pulled a beginner text on mana channels and started reading.
It was dense, technical, and miles ahead of anything I learned in the slums. But the structure made sense. Mana wasn't some mystical force—it behaved more like pressure, flow, and frequency. Resonance especially. The book compared it to "inner harmonics." I compared it to survival efficiency.
Same principle: waste nothing.
Whoever designed this system wasn't trying to hide the rules. They were trying to keep idiots from breaking themselves.
As I read, a librarian passed by and paused just long enough for me to think she'd say something. She didn't. Just nodded and moved on.
Fine by me.
The hour slipped by quietly. The lamps dimmed—curfew signal. I closed the book, mind still spinning with diagrams and equations. For the first time since arriving here, something felt… manageable. Even familiar. Not the knowledge itself, but the structure of it.
Patterns. Logic. Rules.
Things I could build from.
The Archive Hall might end up being the only place in this Academy that made sense.
I stepped out before the crowds arrived, letting the door shut behind me without a sound.