Chapter 04: Weirdos everywhere! A boy can't even catch a break.

Zev wasn't expecting to look up and see a stranger staring intently at him—especially not one with eyes redder than blood.

He flinched back without meaning to.

'Ah! Goodness gracious! What's with this guy?! When did he get so close?'

Zev eyed him suspiciously.

He hated to admit it, but the boy was quite the looker. His crimson eyes were an aesthetic contrast to his snow-colored hair. And he had pretty nice teeth...

But that smirk of his was a firm no. It screamed: Danger. Premature aging guaranteed. Do not engage.

"Who—"

"—am I?" the boy finished, leaning even closer. "Glad you finally asked. I'm Zach, nice to meet you. Your turn now. What do I call you?"

Zev leaned so far back into his seat that he nearly toppled over.

Then he quickly lost patience with the weirdo.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask, you dolt!" he gritted out.

Zach paused.

"Eh?"

Then his smile slowly fell. "Oh, uh... what were you going to ask then?"

"Who pops out from nowhere like that? You damn near gave me a heart attack. And what are you doing all up in my personal space? You're very odd!"

Welp. Awkward, soft-spoken, and allergic to initiating conversations had temporarily left the chat.

The white-haired boy blinked, then burst into a wheeze-laced laugh.

"Hahaha, this is gold! To think you'd be more interesting in person. Bahahagaha!"

The.

Heck?

Zev gave him the stink eye. "What do you mean by 'in person'? I don't remember meeting anyone like you before."

"So you're saying you really don't recognize me?"

"Recognize you? I didn't even know you existed ten seconds ago!"

"Wow. Touché," Zach muttered, ruffling his hair. Then he dropped the bomb. "I'm your roommate."

"You're the odd one for not knowing that," he added, a thoughtful look flickering across his face.

"Then again, all you did since you arrived yesterday evening was cry and bury yourself under the covers. I don't blame ya—"

He didn't get to finish.

A veiny palm slammed over his mouth. Zach blinked down at it. Then up—into a pair of wobbly purple eyes.

'I thought I was the only one in the room! There was someone else?!'

Zev was sweating buckets, his gaze darting around nervously.

"No one heard that, right? Argh, did you seriously have to blabber that part out loud? You evil gremlin. Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"

Before Zach could respond with something undoubtedly annoying, the bell rang.

Seconds later, the classroom door slid open to reveal a new adult—MEM 101 instructor, Professor Thalassa Verge.

The students immediately quieted down.

Zach gave Zev a knowing look as if to say, Saved by the bell. Zev scowled and reluctantly withdrew his hand, sinking back into his seat.

That pest smirked and settled in too, happily humming under his breath like he'd just won the lottery.

At the podium, Prof. Thalassa set up her things. She removed her shades, shook out her hair, and revealed the full glory of her face card.

Mature. Angled. Sharp.

The wrinkles beneath her eyes betrayed her age, but didn't subtract from her allure. Her eyes were electric blue and sparkled like a rave trapped in a storm. Her hair waved like ocean water, streaked with white like moonlit tide foam. It seemed animated, like it had places to be.

She turned on the projector and it synced with her tablet.

Then she began.

"Good morning, Class 1C. I am Professor Thalassa Verge, your instructor for Memory Echo, designation MEM 101." She paused, gaze sweeping the room.

"Welcome to your first lecture at Fearcraft Academy. Let's get one thing straight before we begin: this is not a playground. It's a forge. You will either be sharpened like a blade or shattered like glass. There is no in-between."

The class fell into deeper silence.

Thalassa placed her glowing tablet onto the podium and continued.

"My field specialization is Echo Simulation and Neural Reconstruction. My thesis—'The Crying Room in the Dreammind'—was rated top tier in its time. I don't say this for praise. I say it so you understand exactly who is teaching you."

She tapped the board and the syllabus outline glowed.

"Today's class is introductory. You won't be expected to show off or collapse from exhaustion... Yet. Your lectures this week will all be warm-up material. A light appetizer before the nightmare buffet."

Zev gulped. 'Okay that sounds vaguely reassuring…'

Thalassa continued.

"In MEM 101, you'll learn how real memories are twisted into nightmare triggers. Every ingredient—scent, whisper, or detail—can be used. We'll study echo harvesting techniques, manipulation ethics, trigger stimulation models, and inverse memory threading."

She picked up a marker and wrote three phrases across the board.

Harvest. Embed. Fracture.

"These are your goals. You will harvest a dreamer's memory. Embed it without breaking dream cohesion. And fracture it… at the moment it will hurt the most."

Some students fidgeted.

Thalassa raised a brow.

"Your materials will include Dream Journals, Synaptic Trackers, and Neural Audio Recorders. You will work with projected subjects beginning next week. If you faint, we will revive you. If you cry, we'll play it back during critiques."

Zev whimpered inside.

"Let me repeat something important," Thalassa said. "Emotion is currency here. If you can't make a human feel, you won't pass. You won't even be considered employable."

She tapped the board once more.

"Now. If you want to pass this class, I advise: sit close to chaos. Observe your fears. And don't forget to ask yourself—who would you be if you lost your most precious memory?"

Silence.

Then she smiled, a faint curl that didn't reach her eyes.

"Any questions?"

No hands raised. Of course.

"Good. Then I'll be on my way."

She gathered her materials. Just before leaving, she paused.

"This next slot should have been your practical session. But as your adviser likely informed you, practicals begin next week. So use this time wisely."

Students exhaled in unison.

"But do not waste it," Thalassa snapped. "You've been given your outlines. I expect at least preliminary drafting before your next session."

The exhale reversed itself.

She reached the doorway and turned back one last time.

"Class representative. Come forward and collect the modules."

Crickets.

No one moved.

Thalassa sighed. "No representative yet, huh? That should have been handled before lectures began. That Nayomi… always so forgetful."

She scanned the room and pointed.

"You there. Come with me."

Everyone turned.

It was Nira. The girl with emerald braids and turquoise lenses. She paled.

"M—me?" she squeaked.

Thalassa didn't dignify her with an answer. She was already halfway out the door.

Nira whimpered and chased after her like a reluctant intern pulled into her villain origin story.

The room was quiet for a heartbeat.

Then someone muttered, "Damn, that was intense."

Buzzing conversations took over. The air vibrated again.

Meanwhile, Zev looked at his scanty notes and exhaled.

Well, at least this time he'd managed to write something legible. He was proud. Relieved. The Zev of yesterday wouldn't have imagined it possible.

He was still reveling in that microscopic victory when his stomach growled, a raw sound that echoed with betrayal.

Unfortunately, the boy in front of him caught it.

"Hey," Zach said, turning around. "Wanna go to the snack shop with me? I'm so hungry I could eat a whole zebra."

Go to the snack shop with this weirdo?

No way.

He'd already promised himself to limit all interactions with the guy. Minimal bonding. Maximum distance.

He forced a smile. "Go on without me. I'm not really hungry."

Zach raised a brow but his smile stayed in place.

"Oh yeah? Well, if you say so."

Then he got up and strolled out of the classroom, whistling to himself like the main character in someone else's story.

Zev watched him leave.

Great. He'd dodged the bullet.

Getting close to Zach—or anyone else—was a mistake he couldn't afford to make because there was a high chance...

He probably wouldn't last the semester.