The Orientation
In the end, the final course Mike chose was "Behavioral Decoding & Subtextual Analysis" under Communications & Espionage.
Once more, he simply decided to go along with his gut, and he decided to pick this one. It dealt with reading people and understanding certain behavioral cues they could exhibit that allowed him to read them. Other than his gut feeling, he picked this one because—to be frank—he sucked at reading people, and while his instincts were good, he'd like to have more ways to tell if someone had nefarious intentions towards him under the nice facade. He also thought it mixed well with the last course he'd picked under Combat, the Enemy Analysis & Tactical Exploits course.
With that done, he sent his choices to Beatrice via her contact information and fiddled with his watch for a while longer before feeling his stomach growl.
He realized he hadn't eaten anything in quite a bit, and his metabolism was making him know this, so he didn't hesitate and changed out of his uniform into more casual clothes.
On that note, he'd checked his closet and saw that there were some more clothes inside for him to wear. In the end, he settled on a simple black T-shirt and shorts.
Exiting his room, he listened for any activity within the dorm, but it seemed like his roommate still hadn't arrived. Shrugging, he went to the kitchen and started looking through it.
Thankfully, the fridge was stocked up with food, and the cabinets also had ingredients that could survive for a long time.
Now, Mike was no cook, but after years of growing up in the harsh conditions he had with limited food options, he'd learned how to make barely edible things to be a bit more palatable.
After moving around for a bit, learning what ingredients did what, regretting picking some very spicy condiment, and nearly scaring himself to death with the stove, he managed to make something half decent.
'Huh, time flew.' He mused as he ate at the counter, not bothering to use the dining table.
'The orientation is tomorrow.' He sighed inwardly as he thought back to Beatrice's words.
'There's the orientation itself. You will be introduced to key staff and you will be enlightened on how ranking works. But be warned, that place will be filled with students trying to make subtle and obvious power plays to establish their dominance. Some will approach you, some will try and demean you. Regardless, make a good impression. If not, try and make allies.'
He sighed.
He was impressed by everything Eventide showed him so far, however, he was aware that—to a degree—it was a facade, and the internal competition was bound to be fierce.
'Hopefully, I can keep my temper under control.' He huffed, feeling a bit worried. Naturally, he still had his Lupine nature and emotions to worry about. So he planned to stay out of trouble if he could.
He shook his head.
"No use thinking about it. That's for future Mike to think about." He mumbled as he continued eating his food.
***
The next day was rowdy.
New students filled the Pathways as the mandatory orientation for them was set to happen pretty early in the morning.
The seniors watched as their new juniors moved towards a large auditorium that sat between two large closed arena-like buildings. The crowd slowly started to grow as they all trudged towards the building.
As they walked, one could see certain groups start forming among all of them. Some were large, some were small, but it was clear that cliques had already started forming among them.
Mike was in none of these cliques.
He took note of them, but for the most part, he just walked towards the auditorium like everyone else. Luckily, no one deemed him worth bothering, so nothing of note happened on his way to the auditorium.
After reaching the entrance, everyone was ushered in by the staff, and Mike was taken aback by the large interior of the auditorium.
The seats were arranged in a semicircle and sloped downwards towards a wide stage where whoever was going to address them would be.
There were about 500 seats, so there should be enough for everyone.
Mike considered where to sit as he saw everyone start arranging themselves. He scanned the sea of empty seats that were starting to fill up with some pretty deep consideration, like he was trying to pick out a foxhole in a battlefield.
Too close to the front, and he'd look overly eager, like a teacher's pet before the classes even began. Too far back, and he might be lumped with the recluse, troublemakers, or people who thought being edgy was cool.
The middle rows were—in theory—the safe zone. But even there, he imagined that's where the landmines waited. The loud types who desired attention, or schemes who wanted to see who they could ally—or make use of—with, or generally observant people who liked to have a position that allowed them to notice everyone in the surroundings to note those who were and weren't notable.
He didn't want to stand out, but he also didn't want to be in the background so much that someone would decide to drag him out just to see if he squeaked.
After a few moments of quiet consideration, he picked a spot just a bit off the center, a couple of seats away from a group already deep in their own conversation. Not overly isolated, but not very involved either, showing that he existed while still blending in just enough.
As he sat, he straightened his posture, but didn't raise his shoulders or puff out his chest. His posture said 'I'm here, I'm paying attention, but I'm not looking for trouble.'
Moreover, Mike was—once again—relying on his instincts, and he felt the most comfortable sitting in his current position.
Lastly, one must remember the conditions he grew up in. For his jolly nature, he didn't develop around nice people. It wasn't odd for him to encounter aggressive individuals when scavenging, whether by meeting people who had claimed certain spots or simply appearing like an easy target due to his size, making him susceptible to being picked on.
Hence, he learned how to—to an extent—not draw too much attention while also not making himself easy prey.
This seemed to work well as no one spared him a glance. Well, some did, but it seemed like no one saw him as worth the effort.
He was also quite aware of a certain redhead staring at him from closer to the back, but he made no move to acknowledge her. However, he did notice how she, in turn, received some less-than-amicable glances, and few people seemed inclined to sit near her.
'Bad position maybe?' He mused.
He also noticed that, in another part of the Auditorium, there was a bit of a commotion happening that drew some attention.
He looked over, his eyes easily catching the source of the commotion.
In front of the auditorium at the far corner, he saw a new student sitting quietly. His face—which was surprisingly good-looking, even among ability users—was devoid of all emotions. His hair was an electric yellow along with his eyes, and he gave off an unapproachable feeling when one stared at him. Mike wanted to write him off as some prodigy by the standards of the families, seeing as numerous people were trying to interact with him, despite him ignoring everyone, but he got an odd feeling as he stared at him.
It was strange, but he couldn't put his finger on it...
He shook his head and continued to look around discreetly. Specifically, he paid attention to people who seemed to have some degree of importance, and did his best to gauge their personalities from what he could observe, mentally fitting the overly arrogant ones, problematic ones, amicable-looking ones, and so on, into certain lists in his mind.
He also listened to various conversations to acquire some information, and to his surprise, a lot of what he heard revolved back to the boy sitting in the corner.
'So he's the last descendant of that family that got destroyed, huh?' He mused as he pieced some things together.
Apparently, his name was Kris Fulgur and a part of the now decimated Fulgur family. He couldn't ascertain what caused them to be destroyed as everyone seemed to pointedly avoid talking about it, but he did gather some info on Kris.
Turns out he's some incredibly talented prodigy, and the weight of his family's revival rests on him as he has the talent to do it, so the reason everyone near him is trying so hard to get to know him is so they can curry favor.
'Maybe he's so aloof to avoid talking to people.' Mike mused, but even then, he felt that wasn't correct. His curiosity was starting to be piqued at this point.
'I should probably look into other families besides the Aoex families when I get back.' He decided.
At that point, all the students had entered the auditorium, and the doors closed, lights that seemed way brighter than their size indicated but weren't overbearing came on, and everyone slowly went quiet as a figure walked onto the stage.
As soon as he appeared, Mike's eyes slowly widened as his heart started pounding almost uncontrollably, and his hair stood on end as he felt goosebumps rise on his skin.
"Good morning everyone." The man spoke as he swept his calm gaze across the room.
'That man...' Mike thought.
"You shall know me as Vice-Principal Joseph, and I will be the one initiating the orientation." He said amicably.
'Is dangerous!'