Zane squinted at the brass plaque nailed to the door. Room 217.
"Alright, home sweet shoebox," he muttered, pushing it open.
To his surprise, the dorm wasn't that bad. The walls were stone, yes, but polished smooth, with two wooden desks against opposite walls, two beds, and even a window that overlooked the sprawling courtyard. Definitely bigger than the cramped box he'd been stuck in back home.
Still, for secrecy's sake, he threw his arms wide and gasped like he'd just walked into a palace. "Ohhhhhh, what luxury! What decadence! I, a humble commoner, could never dream of—"
He paused.
The room was empty.
"…Really? Nobody?" Zane dropped his arms with a groan. "Great. My prize-worthy performance and there's no audience. Figures."
He stomped over to the right side of the room and immediately claimed it, tossing his bag on the bed, plopping down dramatically, and mumbling, "This half is now officially Zane-land. Visitors by appointment only."
That was when the air on the other side of the room shimmered.
Zane sat bolt upright.
The shimmer widened into a circle, like ink spilling across water. Then it thickened into a glowing rift, arcs of pale blue light sparking as it tore open wider and wider. Runes flickered around the rim like a spinning wheel. The hum in the air deepened, vibrating in his chest.
Zane's eyes widened. Oh, fantastic. I don't even have a weapon. Not even a fork. Guess I'll just die politely in my own room. At least the carpet's clean.
He stood there stiffly, hands slightly raised like surrender would somehow impress whatever monster was about to crawl out.
Instead, a boy stepped through.
He looked around Zane's age, tall and lean, with pale silver hair that looked like it never once in its life considered being messy. His uniform jacket was crisp despite just coming through a literal interdimensional tear, and a faint glow lingered around him like he carried the portal's light with him. His eyes—sharp, icy blue—scanned the room before settling on Zane.
Zane blinked. "Oh. A person. Not a demon. Nice upgrade."
The portal snapped shut behind him with a crack, leaving the faint smell of ozone in the air.
The boy adjusted the strap of his satchel, gaze cool, voice smooth. "You must be my roommate."
Zane spread his arms, grinning. "Well, either that or you've just broken into my half of the room using fancy sparkly magic. Which, by the way, ten out of ten entrance. Very dramatic. Really makes my 'walk through the door like a normal human' look lazy."
The boy's lips twitched—maybe a smirk, maybe just an eye spasm. "Asher," he said simply.
"Zane," Zane replied, flopping back onto his bed. "Congratulations. You've officially met your new best friend-slash-annoyance. Terms and conditions apply."
Asher didn't answer right away. He set his satchel down on the left desk, methodical, silent, everything about him neat and precise.
Zane watched him for about three seconds before blurting, "Sooooo. Do all your entrances involve glowing portals of doom, or was that just a 'first impressions' thing?"
"…It's standard travel for my family," Asher said flatly.
Zane gasped, clutching his chest. "Standard? You mean—oh my god—you could've just walked here like the rest of us peasants, but no, you decided, 'let me rip reality apart and strut through like it's Tuesday.' Respect. I'm terrified, but respect."
For the first time, Asher gave the faintest exhale that might have been a laugh.
Zane sat up, grinning. "Oh, we're gonna get along great. Unless you snore. If you snore, all bets are off.