The next morning, I woke up to sunlight.
Not the gray, filtered light of Aventic's military quarters. Something real . Alive. Golden. Warm sunlight. Streaming through my window like it had every right to be there.
The ceiling fan spun above me.
I stared at it for a while. Counted rotations like I used to at home.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Then I got up.
Downstairs, the table was ready.
Angy was arranging plates with theatrical precision, moving each one millimeters left or right before nodding in satisfaction.
Shenhe stood by the kitchen doorway, watching with that unreadable expression.
"Young Master." Angy spotted me first. "Perfect timing. Breakfast is—" she squinted at a plate, moved it again, "—artistically arranged."
"It's eggs, Angy."
"They're beautiful eggs."
I sat. Shenhe slid a cup of tea toward me without a word. I nodded my thanks.
Halfway through eating, I remembered.
"Angy, what time does my new school start?"
Angy perked up.
"Eleven!"
I blinked.
"Eleven? That's so late."
"It's an Ilsa thing." She shrugged. "Different rhythm here. It's slower and relaxed."
Slower and relaxed ?
I didn't know what to do with those words.
"Is my... tiffin ready?" The word felt strange in my mouth. Something from another life. A life where children packed lunches and went to school and worried about grades instead of survival.
"Almost." Shenhe's voice, "Angy packed it."
"I carefully curated it," Angy corrected, "There's a difference you know."
" Well then, I'm going to take a shower."
"M—"
"Shut up, Angy."
"Ummmmm."
She pouted—actually pouted—but there was no anger in her. Just that playful disappointment I was starting to recognize.
"You're no fun sometimes, Young Master."
I entered the bathroom.
Hot water. Unlimited. No rationing like in Aventic.
I stood under it longer than necessary, letting it run over my shoulders, my back, my face.
Washing away... what? I didn't know. The past? The memories? The weight of everything I'd seen?
The water fell.
I closed my eyes.
And for a moment—just a moment—I wasn't anywhere. Not in Ilsa. Not in Aventic. Not in any place that had names or maps or meanings. I was just... existing. Floating. Free.
Then the water turned cold.
I opened my eyes.
Stepped out.
I caught my reflection in the mirror.
That same face. Same eyes. Same person who'd killed more things than most people would ever see.
Who'd watched his friends die and come back wrong.
Who'd met a girl who could erase existence and somehow survived.
Who is this guy?
I've seen him my whole life.
But I don't know him at all.
I stared at myself.
Then I grinned.
"Tie looks so sexy. Like me."
Shut up, Nams.
Yeah, you need to shut up .
[10:20 AM , CHENSA , Ilsa ]
I grabbed my cycle from outside the house—a simple thing, blue paint slightly faded, but it moved.
Idiot father, couldn't you brought me a new one?
I removed the small dirt from its seat.
"Angy. Shenhe." I called toward the door.
"I'm heading out. Take care of... everything. Including each other."
Angy's head appeared in the window. "Bye, Young Master! Don't do anything stupid!"
Shenhe's voice, quieter: "Be careful."
I pedaled away.
Yeah, I'll be careful. At least this time .
The road to school was ridiculous. I mean it was ridiculously beautiful.
Rice paddies on both sides, green and gold in the morning light. Hills in the distance wearing mist like scarves. A stream running alongside the road like it was chuckling to itself.
I rode slow.
Not because I was tired . Because I didn't want it to end.
Ahhh, do I even wanna go to school?
Nope.
But this view?
This view I could ride forever.
This is not bad, but I guess it's late . We should've moved here seven years ago.
[10:40 AM , Role of Nurturing Higher Secondary, CHENSA, Ilsa ]
I reached the school.
It was... huge ,not in height but most buildings were two, maybe three stories. But in scale, the campus sprawled across what looked like acres, with multiple buildings connected by covered walkways.
Trees everywhere.
Open spaces and students.
So many students.
They stood in neat lines in the main courtyard, hundreds of them—maybe a thousand—facing a flag I didn't recognize.
Their voices rose together in a song I didn't know.
National anthem? Probably.
I stopped at the edge, watching.
More than a thousand kids. All here to learn. To grow up. To live. None of them have ever seen a Duman.
The thought hit harder than I expected.
They don't know how lucky they are.
The prayer ended. Lines dissolved into chaos as students scattered toward buildings.
I found the staff room. A teacher stood near the window—young, maybe thirty, with kind eyes.
"Uhmmmm... Miss?" I approached. "Could you tell me my class? I just transferred."
She smiled. "Of course. What is your name?"
"Miss, Nams Namaska. Probably class twelve?"
"Class twelve..." She scanned a list on her desk. "Ah. Room seven. It's in the second floor."
"Thanks, miss."
She nodded. "Welcome to the school, Nams."
Room seven was easy to find.
The door was open. Inside, a male teacher—fortyish, graying at the temples—was writing something on a board.
I knocked.
"Sir? May I come in?"
He turned. Studied me for a second.
"Yes? But who are you?"
"Nams, sir. New transfer. It's my first day."
His eyebrows rose. "New student? This late in the term?" Then he shrugged.
"Well, come in. Sit there—" he pointed to an empty desk near the back,"—and try to keep up."
I sat.
The lesson continued.
Vkerna sir.
That's what the other students called him. And he was... good. Really good. His explanations were clear. His voice never rose in anger.
When someone asked a question, he answered patiently, like he had all the time in the world.
If I was scaling Vkerna sir in the RAW way, he'd be A-tier easily. But not everyone appreciated it.
Girls in the back whispered to each other, passing notes, giggling. A boy near the window stared outside, clearly lost in his own world. Two students in the corner played something on their phones, hidden beneath their desks.
Same everywhere, I guess. Even in paradise.
Then I noticed them.
The boys from yesterday.
They sat near the middle—three boys, two girls. Premium clothes. Premium phones. The kind of casual confidence that came from never worrying about anything.
The morning passed.
Vkerna sir finished his lesson. The bell rang. Chaos erupted as students stretched, talked and moved.
I stayed at my desk, watching.
This is what being normal looks like.
A group of boys near the window laughed at something. One of them threw a crumpled paper at another. It missed. Hit a girl instead. She threw it back, grinning.
They don't know anything about the other world.
They have no idea about it.
"Uhm , hello."
Is this world as good as my father assumes—
"Hello"
—because I'm not getting those feelings that people call being normal. If being loud means normal, then Dumans are normal too.
"Uhmm, can you hear me?"
I looked infront of me. A boy. Trying to call me.How long? How long had he been standing there?"
"Yes , I can." simply I just answered his question.
"Are you okay? "
"He talked like he was scared of something. But what? Or was that just the way he spoke?
"Yes , I'm fine."
I'm probably fine .
"Right."
"Hello, I'm—Vjaret."
"I'm Nams. It's nice to meet you. Uhmm how do you spell your name?"
"Is it Vajaret or Jaret?"
"It's simply Yaret"
"Yaret huh? that's kinda a fun name. A good one."
" You think so? But— people always make fun of it. "
"Thank you."
"And you're seriously late for school."
"Oh , and why is that?"
" Exam. Exam. Exam. Next month we— need to take one."
In this school, I haven't talked with any students besides him. But why do I feel like he's the only normal being here?
"Vjaret , Geo's Ma'am calling you "
One girl. Around the same age. Long black hair. Informed him.
"Sorry—Nams, but I— guess we need to talk next time.Bye"
And just like that, he was gone. He followed that girl.
I don't know her name . Don't have any reason to ask, either.
At lunchtime, I found a spot under a tree. I sat alone. Ate what Angy had packed—rice and vegetables and something sweet that tasted like home even though I'd never had it before.
Students walked past in groups. Talking. Laughing. Living.
I thought about Marcus.
About his smile. His jokes. The way he always fell.
What is that Marcus who never fell?
What is wearing my friend's face?
It's only been two days, but I'm started to miss Cari .
After lunchtime ended, afternoon classes blurred together.
History. Math. Something about literature.
I paid attention when I could. Drifted when I couldn't.
At some point, I caught myself staring out the window at the hills beyond the school. Green and peaceful and impossibly far from everything I'd known.
Father sent me here to be safe.
Safe from what?
Who were "they"?
And as always, no answers came.
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