Dormitory!

Absolutely! Here's a long, immersive,

The large hall still hummed with leftover excitement when the voice of the academy speaker boomed once more through the enchanted crystal amplifiers:

"Announcement to all new enrollments: your class allocations along with dormitory numbers have now been posted on the board behind this hall. Please proceed there, find your names, and after receiving your dorm keys, make your way to your assigned rooms to arrange your belongings and complete all personal preparations. Remember, all students are required to gather here again tomorrow morning for further announcements."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a tide of fresh faces surged toward the board—some eager, some anxious, others simply resigned to the bureaucratic ritual. Aether and Morgan were among them, carried along by the bustling crowd.

Aether stood on tiptoe for a better look at the thick lists pinned magically to the broad corkboard. Names were neatly ordered under class titles and dorm assignments, lines dancing with soft glows to attract attention.

"Hmmm… let's see… Technomancy I…" Aether's finger trailed along until he found his name.

"Ah, there it is. Aether Ryens—Technomancy I. As expected."

He let out a tiny breath, shoulders relaxing. That was at least one uncertainty settled. His eyes flicked sideways, curiosity piqued about Morgan's fate. And there—sure enough—he spotted his friend's name sparkling under the exact same class.

A glance to the side revealed Morgan bouncing on his heels, practically bursting with delight, like a kid who'd found an extra gift under the tree.

"Ummmmhmm! It's the sameeee! Did you see that, Aether? We're in the same class! We can talk every day—hah, isn't that awesome?"

Morgan's voice was so full of bright, innocent joy that Aether struggled to keep his usual aloof composure.

"Pfft—must… not… laugh…"

He slapped a hand over his mouth to hide the grin threatening to tear across his face. Morgan paused, tilting his head in sudden concern.

"Ehhh? Are you okay, Aether? You look like you swallowed a frog."

Aether coughed once, forcibly smoothing his expression into polite calm.

"Oh—yeah, I'm fine. Just, uh, too much dust in the air or something."

Morgan beamed, apparently satisfied with that flimsy excuse. Then he thrust a slip of parchment at Aether.

"Oh! Check it out—my dorm's 136. What's yours?"

Aether scanned quickly, then found his own dorm listed.

"Huh… 113. Wow, quite a gap. Looks like you're down the hall or maybe even a different wing."

Morgan's grin didn't falter.

"Heh, who cares! We're still gonna see each other all the time in class anyway!"

Aether, watching Morgan practically bounce out of his boots, covered his mouth again, shoulders shaking.

"Hah… okay, seriously, hold it together. He's too cheerful—it's contagious."

With that, the pair parted ways to hunt down their new living spaces. Aether gave a little half-wave.

"Well then, see you tomorrow, Morgan."

Morgan's return wave was so exaggerated he almost lost his balance.

"Yup! Don't forget to unpack properly—no leaving socks everywhere, Mr. Handsome!"

Aether found himself quietly excited as he wandered off to locate his dorm. This was going to be his home for the next five years. Even if that wasn't so long in the grand scheme, it still meant something. The place you returned to after triumphs or failures. A private corner of the academy that was his.

"Alright, let's see… 113, 113… where are you hiding…"

The dorm buildings were surprisingly vast. Each stood ten stories tall, packed with hundreds of rooms, and there were two more identical buildings to accommodate the overflow. Worse yet, there was no lift or magical conveyor—only endless staircases.

"Typical… They can enchant fire defenses and self-sweeping hallways, but no one thought 'maybe let's not break our students' legs on day one.'"

He climbed steadily, counting room numbers.

"110… 111… 112… and then—114? Wait. What? Where's 113?!"

His steps faltered. He pivoted back and forth, peering down the shadowy stretches of hallway.

"Did I misread that? Don't tell me it's on a different floor—"

Twenty more minutes of increasingly irritated searching finally brought him to a lonely, half-hidden corridor on the fourth floor, where a single unlit lantern hung beside a discreet door.

"…113. Finally. Goddess above, why is this room all the way out here at the end of nowhere?"

But then a small grin tugged at his lips.

"Actually, this is perfect. Less foot traffic, fewer chances of people snooping around. Looks like luck decided to smile on me after all."

He slid the key into the lock and turned it with a satisfying click. The door creaked open—

"Woah…"

Inside was a surprisingly spacious dorm. Aether stepped across polished wooden floors, taking in a neat little training area complete with target dummies and reinforced spell wards, a modest writing desk stacked with starter supplies, a narrow bed, and even a tiny personal kitchen complete with its own fire extinguisher.

"Hah. They think of everything. Probably because first-years keep trying to flambé eggs with mana."

But through the slightly open window drifted faint cheers and clatter from the courtyard below—a reminder that not all dorms were built equal. He'd passed by some gifters' rooms on the way up, decked out with plush chairs, ornate lighting, even mana-infused climate control.

"Hah. Figures. That's the gap between the lucky and the unlucky. But… whatever. This'll do."

Aether spent the next hour unpacking. Clothing folded neatly away, personal books sorted by subject, spare mechanical parts arranged by size. Soon the room felt less like a sterile academy chamber and more like the beginnings of a private world.

"Done. Well, might as well take a stroll around. Get to know the layout."

He stepped back into the corridor, stretching.

"Five years… that's plenty of time to wring every last drop of benefit from this place. If you want to survive in this society—no, if you want to truly stand above—you need to use every resource. Every lesson. Every weakness you spot in others."

His eyes narrowed, a brief shadow crossing his face.

"And someday… when the world comes knocking… I'll be ready."

He was halfway down the hall when a sneering voice rang out.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, pretty boy. Don't you see important people are passing through?"

Aether didn't even have to look to recognize that nasally bray. It was the same boy who'd mocked him during the test line earlier—a classic background character if ever there was one.

"Tch. Here we go…"

The boy stepped in front of him with exaggerated swagger, his small posse clustered behind.

"Why don't you bow, huh? Show some respect, you good-for-nothing non-gifter—"

But before he could finish, the hallway seemed to drop several degrees. A cold, biting aura radiated outward, so sudden and intense that everyone nearby stumbled back, clutching at their throats.

Aether's head tilted slightly up. His normally warm blue eyes gleamed with an icy edge, as if daring anyone present to challenge him. The words didn't come from his mouth, but from somewhere deeper, a silent command that seemed to thunder through the marrow of everyone watching.

"Know your place."

The boy froze—actually froze—his entire body locked, sweat springing to his forehead. The bystanders gasped.

"Wha—what was that pressure…"

"It's so intense…"

"Are we under attack or something?!"

Then, just as quickly, it vanished. The air warmed. Conversation cautiously resumed, though everyone was left glancing around uneasily.

Aether rubbed the back of his head, muttering under his breath.

"Crap… overdid it. Got too worked up. Ugh, please don't let that draw attention from the staff…"

He spotted the boy—now pale as a sheet—slinking away at a near-run.

"Hah. So much for asking me to bow, you extra. Better scurry back to whatever irrelevant subplot you crawled out of."

Quickening his pace to avoid lingering eyes, Aether made for the stairs—only to pause when he noticed a broad bulletin board at the stair landing, covered in a fresh list.

"Hm? What's this list…"

Little did he know, that simple detour was about to steer him toward a brand new set of entanglements—tests, rivalries, unexpected alliances—that would shape not just the next five years of his life, but perhaps the fate of the world itself.

Because that's the thing about trying to stay low-profile when you carry forbidden magic that can rewrite the very flow of time: sooner or later, destiny notices you. And when it does… the real story begins.