Ash pulled the spatial bag out of the desk drawer and looked around his room.
It was a small room. Packing it should have taken five minutes. It took forty, mostly because he kept stopping to argue with himself.
The easy things went in first. Three sets of gray academy robes. Towels, soap, toothbrush. A box of ration packs and a case of energy drinks—the kind students lived on when they planned long stretches of cultivation and had no time for the cafeteria. The pouch of low-grade energy crystals, now mostly reduced to dull gray dust due to his rapid devouring of all cosmic energy in a 300 meter radius. His terminal and the charger. He dropped everything in, and the bag swallowed it without complaint.
Then he reached the blanket.
A training room probably doesn't have bedding, he told himself.
It was the soft one he had kept since his first year. The fabric was a little worn at the edges, but it still smelled faintly of the laundry detergent the dorm used.
