The line stretched up the marble steps like a slow-moving river of nerves. Every few breaths, someone whispered, adjusting a collar or polishing the insignia pinned to their chest.
Alain watched in silence. He traced the outside of the building, seamless white stone that looked like it was all hand-carved.
He had expected a giant receiving hall that was filled with all sorts of rune-technology, cleanly designed architecture, and all sorts of welcoming signs.
Instead, inside was a dingy-looking broom closet with another door.
Theo whistled low beside him.
"Well, that's… modest."
Lia tilted her head, eyes wide. "Maybe it's enchanted. You know, like a space-fold."
Her braid glimmered faintly as she leaned closer, fingers hovering near the handle. "It doesn't feel like a door."
Alain said nothing, but he could feel it too. A faint vibration beneath the air… It felt like the first time he crossed onto the train platform.
A noble ahead of them rolled his eyes. "Whatever it is, I'm not standing here all day."
He pushed the door open and stepped through.
He didn't reach the other side.
There was no flash, no explosion. Only a quiet sound, a low thrum, like a single string being plucked deep underwater. Then the student was gone.
A ripple of silence followed. Dozens of eyes stared into the open doorway, into darkness that wasn't shadow but absence.
Theo's grin wavered for half a second, then returned. "Well, guess that's the invitation." He rolled his shoulders and walked forward with an easy stride.
The door shimmered gold for an instant, and he vanished mid-step.
Lia looked at Alain. "That looked… painless?"
"Mostly," he said.
She laughed once, but it was clear that she looked nervous.
Alain studied her expression and extended his hand, inviting hers.
"Together?"
"If we die, I'm haunting you."
"Deal."
They stepped through together.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. No ground. No breath. Only the pressure of something vast folding inward. The world turned itself inside out.
Then came the light.
They exited out on polished obsidian tiles. With his next step, Alain's foot caught on something. He stumbled—and Lia, still holding his hand, went down with him.
They hit the ground in a tangle. The sound echoed embarrassingly loud in the vast hall.
"Had a feeling it'd be you next," a voice drawled above them.
Theo stood there grinning, one boot slightly extended. The runelight glinted off his amber eyes.
"My bad," he said without an ounce of remorse. "Didn't think you'd bring her down, too."
Lia groaned, brushing dust from her dress. "You tripped us on purpose?"
"I wanted to trip him, on purpose," he grinned, extending a hand.
Being on the ground, Alain had noticed the roof. Above them, a dome stretched so high it looked like the sky itself, covered in drifting runes that glowed like constellations.
"Woah…" he said, mouth agape as he pulled himself up with Theo's help.
Lia turned slowly, eyes reflecting the dome's light. "It's gorgeous…"
All around, more students appeared in flashes of light. Their voices filled the chamber in waves: gasps, awe, disbelief.
Theo's voice came from somewhere behind them, already laughing. "Gotta give it to them. The Academy knows how to wow."
The laughter faded quickly as more students shimmered into existence, filling the obsidian expanse with shifting light and chatter.
Gradually, the lights dimmed. One by one, the runes spiraling across the ceiling slowed and froze in place, their glow deepening from gold to white. The murmurs died without anyone telling them to.
From the far end of the atrium, a figure stepped onto the stage, tall, silver-haired, posture straight as a blade.
The murmurs that had faded returned in an instant—softer now, edged with disbelief.
His ears.
They were long, finely tapered, the kind of shape that only existed in paintings or fairy tales.
"An Alf," Theo muttered under his breath. "They call themselves Alf. 'Elf' is what everyone else calls them."
Lia blinked. "There's a difference?"
"Try calling one an elf to their face and find out."
Alain said nothing. He'd never seen one before, not in person, at least. The air around the man felt sharper, cleaner somehow, as if the space itself refused to touch him.
The Vice Principal stopped at the center of the stage, posture perfectly still, hands folded behind his back.
When he spoke, his voice was calm and cool, but each syllable carried another voice an octave higher, like two voices in harmony.
"Welcome, initiates of the Aesir Academy."
The sound rolled across the hall like a controlled tide.
"You stand in the Hall of Ascension. I am Vice-Principal Silas."
Silas scanned the sea of students, unflinching, unreadable. His golden eyes reflected the light of the runes above, making him seem half-carved from the hall itself.
"Let's skip the formalities."
A few students blinked, startled.
"You didn't come here to 'learn'. You came here for power."
His tone didn't accuse. It was too calm for that, a statement of fact that cut through the hall like a blade.
"Power to rise above your station. To protect someone. To avenge something. To prove you exist. It doesn't matter."
He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly across the stage.
"The Aesir Academy exists to refine that hunger, not suppress it. We turn obsession into discipline, and will into weaponry. Those who can't endure the process will break."
No one dared breathe. The words hung in the air like stone.
"Until those few of you become talented enough to be Aesir Operatives. That is the truth you'll learn before anything else."
Theo muttered, just loud enough for Alain to hear, "He's not wrong."
Lia shot him a glare. "You're not helping."
Silas stopped at the center of the stage again.
"As usual, we will have our assessment tomorrow. Those who wish to have the written exam will exit using the left door. While those who would like the practicals exit right side."
The lights dimmed.
"But…that will not be the case this year," Silas exhaled sharply through his nose.
A breeze stirred through the room, scattering petals of white light.
"Of course. Right on cue."
The ceiling began to open, and a warm glow spilled into the hall.
Light spilled through the ceiling like dawn breaking underwater. The runes along the dome flared gold, scattering drifting petals of ether.
"You make it sound so dreadful, Silas."
The bird of light descended, folding into a barefoot woman wrapped in green-white silk.
The woman looked around her twenties or thirties at first glance. However, Alain noticed otherwise.
Just her presence was enough to brighten the room. Under her nice exposition, a mysterious energy flowed.
Silas stepped back, wordless. She eyed the podium, frowned, and turned to him expectantly.
"Silas. Really?"
He sighed. "Headmaster."
She beamed. "Silas."
Another beat. Then, without protest, he stepped up and lifted her by the waist to reach the sound amplifier.
The students laughed. Even the hall's runes pulsed faintly brighter.
"See?" the woman said, laughing with them. "Partnership. The foundation of every miracle."
Her smile faded, just slightly. "And we'll need a few miracles soon."
The laughter stopped.
"Which is why this year's examination will be different. No more essays or duels. We'll measure on-field instead."
A few students exchanged glances.
The Headmaster pulled out a small ring from her inner coat pocket. At the sight, the Vice-Principal lurched forward, reaching out.
"Headmaster, I don't think this is a good idea…"
The Headmaster continued, ignoring Silas completely.
"This here artifact's able to use an illusion spell so real that it'll look like a simulation."
She rested a hand on the podium, "You'll work in trios," she went on, her tone almost cheerful.
"Each team will be placed in a bounded field and asked to engage a small cluster of simulated Tier I Blighteds."
Murmurs rippled through the rows.
"Don't worry, you won't die from this. …Just that you'll receive a hundred percent of the pain simulated," the woman smiled innocently.
After a moment of silence…the crowd erupted in chatter.
"So!... Let's draw some lots."