Chapter 23: Settling In, Spiraling Out

Standing there in the doorway was Justin Bridge.

One of the golden boys of Eternal Realms.

In the game, he was the kind of character who got cutscenes, dramatic music, and girls writing fanfics before the plot even started.

Short, tousled golden-blonde hair.

Warm brown eyes with that ridiculous golden fleck like the sun personally winked at him.

Even had a scar above his left eyebrow — perfectly placed, like it had been handcrafted by a designer who knew exactly where "rugged charm" lived on the face.

I stared a second too long.

Dammit. Doing it again. Cataloguing people like I was writing a character sheet.

He was good-looking.

I'll give him that.

But not me level.

{Gay}

'Fuck you, Echo.'

Justin gave a sheepish smile as he stepped in, the kind that made you forget he could cleave a monster in two without blinking.

"I hope I'm not intruding?"

I didn't bother sitting up. Just looked at him. "You are."

He blinked. Tried not to laugh.

"Right... well, I just came to say congratulations."

I raised a brow. "For what?"

"For placing in the top ten," he said, folding his arms casually.

"You came in fifth. That's impressive, and the whole mana bomb thing — the fall, the impact, the dust cloud? That was insane."

I didn't respond.

He kept going.

"Also... thanks. For helping Thalia. She's okay, by the way. Little shaken, but she wouldn't have made it to the top 10 as well without you."

I looked at him flatly.

Then said, "There's no need to congratulate me."

He tilted his head. "Why not?"

"You're still in the top ten, aren't you?"

That threw him.

His mouth opened, then closed again. "I mean... yeah, but—"

"So we're both there."

He blinked. "Right... fair enough."

His smile faltered, just a bit — like I'd stepped on some unspoken bond he thought we had.

I didn't care. I was tired. I didn't want a medal or a handshake or whatever scripted moment he was hoping to walk out with.

Justin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to salvage the visit. "Anyway... just wanted to drop by. Show respect.

And I figured, y'know... since we're both starting orientation tomorrow—"

"I'm aware."

"—it'd be good to at least talk face to face."

"You've talked."

He paused.

Stared at me like he wasn't sure if I was being cold or just socially bankrupt.

Probably both.

"Right," he said finally, half-smiling.

"You're not the talkative type."

"I'm not."

He nodded, glanced around like there was a secret exit he could use, then turned to leave.

"Well, we'll see at orientation," he said as he reached the door.

"Try not to level a building this time."

The door clicked softly behind him.

{Nice guy. A little too polished.

I give him two episodes before something traumatic happens and he grows stubble.}

'Says the voice in my head who called me gay five minutes ago.'

{I insult with love, snowflakes. Equal opportunity sarcasm.}

I sighed, dropped my head back against the pillow, and stared at the ceiling.

So that was Justin Bridge.

Golden boy. Noble heart.

And just like everyone else... still didn't have the answers I needed.

Just as I was about close my eyes and drift to Neverland, the door creaked open.

Again?

Seriously, does privacy mean nothing in this world?

I turned, sighing internally, ready to verbally eject the next intruder—

But paused.

Ah.

Her.

Standing there like she belonged to a stained-glass painting was my twin sister — Glory.

And just like every other time I laid eyes on her, it caught me off guard.

She stood there with snow-white hair cascading down in lazy, perfect waves, framing her sharp yet kind face.

Her eyes—sky blue, not cold like mine—sparkled with a mix of worry and relief that she tried very hard to hide behind her usual no-nonsense glare.

She was still in her casual outfit: a pale top tucked into black high-waisted jeans and a wide belt that shimmered faintly with runes.

No Academy uniforms yet. Just us, as we were.

She was beautiful.

Like, objectively. The kind of person who looked like she belonged in a light novel cover and didn't even know it.

{You're narrating again, snowflakes.}

'Just this once, Echo. For family's sake.'

Glory stepped forward quickly, her arms crossed. "You're awake?"

"Looks like it."

She didn't waste a second.

"You reckless maniac!" she snapped, stomping over.

"What the hell was that stunt with the mana bomb?!"

"Improvising."

"You hurled yourself from the sky!"

"Had to land somehow."

"On your face?"

I gave her a lazy smirk. "Still prettier than half the school."

She glared at me like she wanted to smother me with a pillow.

Then she exhaled, long and slow, and her expression softened.

"You scared me, dummy."

I looked away. "…Sorry."

After a moment, she reached into the air and tapped the mana ring on her middle finger.

A shimmer of blue light spiraled outward as her spatial ring activated.

With a twist, she pulled out a neatly folded set of dark, fresh clothes and a food container.

She placed them both on the table beside me.

"I figured you wouldn't want to wear that gown moving around"

"And this?" I lifted the lid of the container.

Steam curled upward, carrying the rich scent of something spiced and meaty, nestled in dark, glossy sauce beside shimmering green rice and gold-streaked vegetables.

It looked like fantasy food.

Because it was.

Definitely not something I ever ate back on Earth.

"Fyrian recovery dish," Glory said. "Boosts stamina, restores mana. Pretty good too."

"Thanks."

"I came second," she said, casually as she sat at the edge of the bed.

"…Second?" I raised an eyebrow.

She smirked. "Yep. Your little explosion gave me the spot.

If you hadn't pulled that off, I might not have made it that far. So... thanks."

I gave a small nod. "…No need to thank me. You did the work."

"You still helped."

{Aww. Look at you two. Adorable.}

"How long have I been out?" I asked between bites.

"A whole day," Glory replied.

"The Battle Royale was yesterday. You've been unconscious since then."

I blinked. A whole day?

That was... longer than I expected.

But then again, considering the beating my body had taken, maybe it was exactly what I deserved. Rest. For once.

I started eating, slowly. The taste surprised me. It was rich, savory, and weirdly nostalgic.

The rice glimmered faintly like stardust and had a mild, buttery texture that balanced the spice of the meat.

"You're not eating?" I asked.

"I already ate. I've been up since dawn."

There was always something warm in her eyes when she looked at me — a kind of soft affection that never needed words.

"Check your smartwatch," she said suddenly.

I blinked and looked at the table beside me. Sure enough, the device lay there, screen dark and waiting.

I picked it up and tapped the side.

The screen flickered to life, the school's sigil shimmering faintly at the center.

"They've assigned all the first-years to their doms," she continued.

"You've got to go to the Housing & Student Affairs Office — second floor, east wing — and pick up your keycard in person.

I would've gotten it for you, but it's strictly individual collection only."

"Hn."

Glory stood up and brushed her hands together.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to finish your food.

Don't be late for orientation tomorrow. And try not to blow yourself up again."

"…No promises."

She rolled her eyes fondly.

"Love you too. Oh—and Luna said she'll be dropping by to check on you soon."

And with that, she left.

Luna, huh?

I hadn't really met my other siblings in person aside from my twin.

Or—well—Eden hadn't.

Technically speaking. Still weird referring to his memories like they weren't mine, but there it was.

From what I could piece together, Luna was the cool older sister.

Elegant, sharp-tongued, always in control.

The kind of person who could shut down an argument with a look.

Whether that image still held up now, I didn't know.

{You think too much, Snowflakes.}

I ignored Echo's jab as I finished eating.

The food—whatever it was—wasn't half bad. Just strange.

The flavors weren't familiar, the texture was weirdly smooth in some parts and gritty in others, and I had no idea what kind of creature it came from.

But hey, it was still delicious and it didn't kill me. So it passed.

Once I was done, I pushed the tray aside and finally turned to the neat stack of clothes Glory had brought.

She'd packed a dark, high-collared tunic that clasped diagonally across the chest with three silver buckles—sleek, clean-cut, and a little too formal for my taste.

The material felt like a cross between silk and leather—soft, but with an odd kind of resistance.

The pants were fitted, charcoal grey with subtle stitchwork along the sides that caught the light in a faint shimmer.

A thin belt of some flexible metal held it all together, and tucked inside the pile was a black half-cloak lined with pale silver.

Stylish. Subtle. Very not me.

There wasn't a mirror in the room, so I didn't get the chance to see how ridiculous I looked.

{It's okay. You look like a noble who got kicked out of fashion school halfway through.}

"Pain-in-the-ass system," I muttered under my breath.

{Love you too.}

I shook my head and took a breath. Alright.

Time to see what kind of madness waited outside.

And with that, I stepped out—

—Only to come face to face with the nurse from earlier.

Great.

She blinked at me, clearly not expecting to run into her patient so soon.

I didn't know her name, so I glanced down at the tag pinned to her uniform.

Nurse Lira Windwillow.

Huh. Pretty name.

Now that I was standing this close, I noticed the shimmer to her skin, the faint iridescent glow beneath her cheeks.

Her ears were a bit more tapered than I remembered. A fairy. Should've guessed.

She smiled awkwardly. "You're up! Already?"

"Yeah," I said simply.

"Are you feeling alright? You should still be resting."

"I'm good. Thanks… for treating me."

That caught her off guard. She looked pleasantly surprised, a slight blush blooming across her cheeks.

"Oh! Well—it's my job, really."

I nodded and started to walk past her.

"Wait!" she called out, a little too fast. She cleared her throat and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve.

"Uh… do you think… I mean, could I maybe have your contact?"

I blinked.

Right. Phones.

Did I even have one?

I glanced at my smartwatch and realized I didn't even know what it could do beyond show stats and make ominous quest notifications.

"I don't have a phone," I said honestly.

"But… you can give me yours. I'll text once I get one."

Her wings fluttered subtly, and her whole face lit up like a child who'd just been handed candy.

"Really? Yes—yes, of course!" she fumbled for a small crystal-clear card and slipped it into my hand.

"Here. That has everything."

"Cool."

I gave her a small nod and walked away, her soft laughter trailing behind me.

When I glanced back, she was still standing there, beaming.

{That's my boy.}

'Shut up!'

{What? I'm just proud. Laying groundwork already, huh?}

'I'm making connections. She might be useful later.'

{Connections. Sure. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?}

{Next thing you know, you'll be writing her name in a diary and doodling little hearts around it.}

I rolled my eyes.

Echo was going to give me wrinkles.

I stepped out into the open hallway, sunlight spilling through the tall, arched windows, casting gold across the smooth stone floor.

The entire place smelled like parchment and polished floors, with a touch of lavender—probably magic-infused, because why not?

Every footstep echoed off the high-vaulted ceilings like I was walking through some sacred temple.

Silver Mist Academy looked like something straight out of a fantasy novel.

Towers stretched into the sky, staircases shifted subtly underfoot, floating chandeliers hummed overhead.

My head tilted up automatically.

"Feels like I just stepped into Hogwarts," I muttered under my breath.

{Hogwarts?} Echo chimed, voice curious as always, with a pinch of attitude.

"A school. From a movie. Wizards, flying brooms, talking hats. You'd love it."

{Love it? Please.}

"Who hates a Harry Potter movie anyway? You're lying to yourself."

{You're projecting, snowflakes.}

I smirked a little. She never disappointed.

Students walked past me. Some in groups. Others alone.

But one thing was common—eyes. Lots of them.

Most of the girls gave me glances, quick and shy, followed by blushes and the occasional whispered squeal.

One of them actually walked into a pillar. Not kidding. I winced for her.

The guys? Different energy. Less squeals, more side-eyes.

Some stared like I'd kicked their dog. Others gave that weird calculating look—like I was some threat to be measured, or maybe... like I'd done something unforgivable.

"Why are these guys looking at me like I slept with someone's wife?" I muttered.

{Maybe you did.} Echo said without missing a beat.

"I hate you."

{You're just jealous of my emotional range.}

I didn't dignify that with an answer. She wasn't wrong. I probably had the emotional range of a teaspoon lately.

The main atrium was ahead—massive, with a floating obsidian directory hanging above a rune-etched podium.

A statue of some old mage stood below it, holding out a scroll like he was offering wisdom to the generations.

I scanned the floating text until I found what I was looking for:

Student Affairs & Assignment Division — Office of Magister Renlor Vynes

"Renlor Vynes," I repeated. "Sounds like a villain from a Saturday morning cartoon."

{Maybe he is. Wear your charming smile. The one that makes grown women lose common sense.}

"I'm not smiling."

{Exactly. That's what makes it worse.}

I sighed, adjusting my collar as I passed a group of students who instantly turned silent.

Someone whispered my name.

A girl blushed and ducked behind her friend's shoulder.

Another guy stared like he wanted to punch me but hadn't worked up the courage.

This was getting old. Fast.

{Keep walking, snowflakes. Try not to break any more hearts on the way.}

"No promises."

I walked up to the sleek silver elevator that led to the Student Affairs and Assignment Division.

Its polished chrome frame gleamed in the light, and the doors opened with a soft ding.

I stepped in, noting how it hummed quietly—smooth and efficient, almost unnervingly so.

No buttons, just a glowing blue panel that responded the moment I looked at it.

"Student Affairs Division," I muttered.

The doors began to slide shut.

"Wait—! Hold the door!"

A voice. Feminine. Rushing.

I glanced up. A girl was sprinting toward the elevator, her bag bouncing against her hip.

She had rich chestnut hair and was panting slightly.

Maybe in a hurry. Maybe just late. Probably her fault.

I didn't wait.

I calmly tapped the panel, and the doors sealed with a satisfying chink.

{You're a terrible person, you know that, right?}

'Her cardio looked decent. She'll survive.'

{Snowflakes, I swear you were raised by wolves in a blizzard.}

'Raised by the Prairie family. Close enough.'

The elevator began its ascent, a smooth glide upward like I was being whisked away inside a spaceship.

I let out a slow breath and leaned against the glass wall, staring out at the school as it gradually came into view through the transparent side of the shaft.

The Silver Mist Academy was something out of a dream.

Or a high-budget fantasy movie. Cobblestone paths split through patches of glowing grass.

Spires with silver-veined rooftops pierced the clouds.

Floating platforms drifted lazily above the towers, carrying students, faculty, and sometimes even whole outdoor cafes.

I looked down at my hand, flexing it slightly.

'I still can't believe it,' I murmured.

'I'm here. Actually here. This isn't a screen or a controller anymore. I'm living it.'

The door let out a soft chime, and the floor indicator blinked: Student Affairs – Level 7.

Just as I was about to turn left and open the door marked Student Affairs & Assignment, a voice halted me mid-step.

"Hey, baby boy."

I froze.

No. No, no, no.

That voice was way too familiar—the kind of familiar that made your skin crawl and your instincts scream.

The kind of familiar you wanted to throw off a cliff and then erase from memory with bleach.

Please… tell me it's not who I think it is.

{I won't. Wouldn't want to spoil the fun.}

Echo's tone was soaked in sarcasm and mischief.

I turned slowly.

And there she was.

Cassia Virelle Duskmoor.

Smiling.

Correction—grinning like a vampire who just found a buffet of helpless necks.

Her smile wasn't warm. It was the kind that sent a ripple down your spine and made you instinctively brace yourself for impact.

Like the universe itself had just raised a red flag.

Her platinum-blonde hair—messy and untamed—fell around her like a storm in soft waves.

Those glinting red eyes sparkled with chaotic amusement.

She wore a long, sleeveless coat over tight-fitted combat leather, boots that clanked faintly as she closed the distance between us, and an expression that said, I'm here to ruin your peace and I'll enjoy every second of it.

"Aww," she purred, tilting her head. "You look surprised to see me. Didn't miss me?"

Every cell in my body voted unanimously to run.

But I just blinked, deadpan. "What are you doing here?"

{Ah yes. The welcome wagon arrives, fangs and all.}

She laughed. Loud. Unapologetically.

"Relax, I'm not here to bite. Not yet. I'm here to collect my dom',s keycard.

Same as you, I suppose." She leaned in a little too close.

"Looks like fate decided we'd bump into each other again. Romantic, right?"

{This is how horror movies start.}

'Shut up, Echo!'

I took a step back, trying to casually regain personal space without setting off whatever mental tripwire Cassia was wired with.

She just kept smiling, eyes never blinking.

So much for a peaceful morning.

I sighed. This world was relentless.