We left the course hall together, the low hum of discussion fading behind us as the corridor opened into a wider passage leading toward the dormitory wing. The Vanguard Spire felt different here, less like an academy, more like a place people actually lived. Softer lighting. Warmer colors. Less pressure hanging in the air.
I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"…So," Ashley said after a moment, breaking the silence, "today was kind of insane, right?"
I snorted. "That's one way to put it. I was running for my life last night. Now I'm enrolled in classes inside the most important Awakened facility in the country."
"And you survived a Mana Fiend " she added lightly.
"Minor detail."
She laughed, then grew thoughtful. "Still… five weeks until the Evaluation exam. That's not a lot of time."
"No," I agreed. "But I guess that's the point. Sink or swim."
She nodded, hugging her arms loosely as we walked. "I keep thinking about it. The evaluation exam. The 5 weeks." She smiled nervously. "Feels unreal."
"You'll be fine," I said without thinking.
She glanced at me. "You sound very sure."
"I am," I replied. "Anointed Legacy. Enlightenment. Boosting output? You're basically built for team survival."
She flushed faintly. "You make it sound cooler than it feels."
"It is cool," I said. "You're cool."
That made her stumble half a step.
"…Thanks," she said, then quickly looked ahead again. "You're not so bad yourself. Legacy rank aside."
"Ouch," I deadpanned. "Straight for the jugular."
She smiled apologetically. "You know what I mean."
"I do," I said, and surprisingly, I didn't feel bitter. Not with her. "Still. Today taught me one thing."
"What's that?"
"I know nothing." I said. "Absolutely nothing."
She laughed. "Welcome to the club."
We reached a junction where the dormitory wing split into two corridors, marked by subtle glowing sigils. A sign hovered above us.
Dormitories – East Wing / West Wing
Ashley slowed. "Looks like this is where we split."
"Looks like it."
There was an awkward pause. Not uncomfortable, just new.
"…Guess I'll see you tomorrow?" she said.
"Yeah," I replied. "In the morning? I mean Breakfast and all..."
She smiled. "Deal."
She hesitated, then gave a small wave. "Good night, Eli."
"Night, Ashley."
I watched her disappear down the opposite corridor before turning toward mine.
The hall was quiet. Carpeted. Softly lit. Each door was engraved with a room number and a faint Vanguard crest. My key– an engraved metal token, glowed faintly as I approached my assigned room.
I pressed it against the lock.
The door slid open with a quiet hiss.
I froze.
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
The room was… big. Not enormous, but spacious. Clean. Warm. A real bed sat against the far wall, covered in dark blue sheets that looked absurdly soft. A nightstand stood beside it, complete with a small lamp and, my breath caught– an actual snack bar. Packaged food. Sealed drinks. Just sitting there.
'For free?!'
I stepped inside slowly, like the room might vanish if I moved too fast.
There was a desk. A chair that looked like it wouldn't collapse under my weight. A bookshelf, empty, but still. And beyond a half-open door.
"…No way."
I pushed it open.
A bathroom.
Not just a bathroom. A nice one.
A shower. A real one, with proper pressure controls. And beside it–
A bathtub.
I stared at it like it was a mythical artifact.
"…I could drown in that thing." I whispered reverently.
My chest felt tight.
I turned back into the room, my gaze drifting everywhere at once, overwhelmed. This place was more luxurious than anything I'd ever lived in. My old "home" had been a cramped room with a mattress on the floor and a sink that only worked when it felt like it.
This?
This felt illegal.
I checked the closet next.
Inside hung neatly folded clothes– dark, durable fabric lined with subtle runes. The Vanguard uniform. Clean. Pristine. Mine.
I reached out and touched it.
It was real.
I let out a shaky laugh and sank onto the bed. It dipped beneath my weight, soft but supportive, and I froze again.
"…Oh," I murmured. "Oh, this is dangerous."
If I closed my eyes now, I might not wake up until morning.
Maybe that was okay.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion finally catching up with me. Today had been too much. Awakening, survival, evaluation, humiliation, opportunity.
And yet…
A smile crept onto my face.
The bed was soft.
That alone should've knocked me out.
Instead, I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the unfamiliar quiet of the Vanguard dormitories. No dripping pipes. No shouting neighbors. No distant growls bleeding in from god knows where.
Just silence.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "This is suspicious."
I shifted, the mattress giving easily beneath me. My body sank into it like it was being swallowed. Comfortable. Too comfortable. Every instinct I had screamed that this was a trap– because nothing in my life had ever been this easy.
Sleep refused to come.
My eyes drifted to my chest.
Not literally, there was nothing to see– but I felt it. That steady warmth, deep beneath my ribs. Calm. Present. Like something patiently waiting for instructions it wasn't planning to follow.
Adaptation.
Just thinking the word made my jaw tighten.
"Alright," I whispered to the empty room. "Let's see what you actually do."
I swung my legs off the bed and stood. The floor was cool beneath my feet, grounding. I rolled my shoulders once. Twice.
Still hurt.
Good. At least pain hadn't decided to abandon me entirely.
I raised my hands in front of me, palms open, and tried to do what every manual, sermon, and half-drunk street preacher said awakened people were supposed to do.
Reach inward.
I closed my eyes.
Focused on my chest.
On the warmth.
Nothing happened.
I frowned.
"Come on," I murmured. "You showed up earlier. Don't go shy on me now."
I tried again. Pushed harder. Imagined pulling on the warmth, shaping it, forcing it outward like Ether manipulation was supposed to work.
My head throbbed.
My breathing grew uneven.
Still nothing.
"…Fantastic," I sighed, dropping my hands. "Low rank and stubborn."
I paced the room slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. The mirror on the wall caught my reflection– clean now, hair still damp from the shower, dark circles under my eyes that no amount of rest could erase.
I didn't look stronger.
Didn't feel stronger.
And yet…
I grabbed the chair by the desk and dragged it to the center of the room. Set it upright. Then I sat against the wall and lowered myself into a wall-sit.
Instant regret.
My thighs screamed. My knees protested. My ribs twinged sharply.
"Okay," I hissed through my teeth. "Bad idea. Horrible idea."
I held it anyway.
Ten seconds passed.
Then twenty.
My legs shook violently, muscles burning as fatigue set in fast and brutal. Sweat beaded at my temples.
Thirty seconds.
I was done.
Except… something shifted.
Not the pain.
The way my body handled it.
The burn didn't fade, but it stopped escalating. My breathing adjusted on its own, slowing, deepening. The tremor in my legs didn't worsen. It stabilized. Like my muscles had decided, Alright. This is the new normal.
I blinked.
"…Huh."
I held for another ten seconds. Then another.
When I finally collapsed to the floor, gasping, I stared at my legs in disbelief.
"That was… longer than usual."
I pushed myself up, heart still racing.
Coincidence, maybe.
I wasn't convinced.
Next test.
I walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on hot. Not scalding, but close enough that steam immediately fogged the mirror.
I stepped under it.
The heat slammed into my skin, sharp and almost painful. I sucked in a breath.
"Damn–" I muttered. "Still hate that."
I stood there anyway.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
The sting dulled, not disappeared, but softened. My skin prickled, then adjusted. Breathing steadied. Heart rate normalized faster than it should have.
I frowned.
I turned the water colder.
My breath hitched as icy needles stabbed into my skin.
"…Oh, you have got to be kidding me."
The shock was brutal, but again, only for a moment. My body reacted before I could even think. Breathing changed. Blood flow shifted. The cold became tolerable far quicker than it had any right to.
I shut the water off slowly.
My hands trembled.
That hadn't felt like control.
It felt like correction.
Like my body was solving a problem without consulting me.
I dried off mechanically and returned to the room, unease creeping up my spine.
"Adaptation," I whispered.
Not boosting, or enhancing. Nothing fancy.
Merely adjusting, Responding and Learning.
I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed a hand to my chest. The warmth was there– steady, indifferent.
"You're not listening to me," I said quietly.
The warmth pulsed once.
Not in response.
Just… present.
A chill crawled up my arms.
I laughed softly, the sound thin in the quiet room.
"Great," I muttered. "I don't have a Legacy. I have a god damn roommate within my own body."
I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling again.
Whatever Adaptation was… it wasn't something I used.
It was something that watched.
And the longer I thought about it, the more certain I became of one unsettling truth:
If I wasn't careful…
It might start deciding things for me.
Sleep came eventually.
Uneasy.
Restless.
And somewhere deep inside my chest, something learned.