The Academy's air felt different on Saturday morning.
It was almost like the Academy was a never-stopping train that was always in motion, driving towards a certain destination and finally, after five days of non-stop travel, it finally slowed down for refueling.
And in this context, refueling was the weekend.
It felt like Nexus Academy had a total servicing, cleansing it of all the old oil and grease, and replacing it with new gears and machinery.
On Saturday, the first of the two weekend days, Nexus Academy gave the freshers a breath of fresh air.
Gone was the rigid cadence of weekday bells and professor lectures.
Instead, the sprawling courtyards thrummed with scattered excitement, nobles striding with smug confidence toward their gleaming electives, commoners rushing nervously in small clusters, and the scholarship survivors moving in silence, still carrying the shadow of the massacre.
