Chapter 2: The Normie Tour
The dorm room door burst open, a whirlwind of color and energy shattering the gloom. Enid Sinclair stood in the doorway, her pastel sweater a riot of pink and yellow, her pink-streaked hair bouncing as she grinned. The air shifted, her lavender-and-citrus perfume cutting through the dorm's musty staleness, a sensory jolt that made Oliver blink.
She's a walking rainbow. A living, breathing sensory overload.
His hazel eyes widened, his fingers pausing on his tie, the fabric a comforting anchor against her vibrant chaos.
"Welcome, roomie!" Enid chirped, her voice bright but tinged with a nervous edge, her blue eyes scanning him like she was sizing up a puzzle. "I'm Enid! You look like you just saw a ghost, but don't worry, they're friendly here!"
Her laugh was infectious, a cascade of happy sounds that made the oppressive gloom of the room retreat. Oliver's internal monologue, however, was a sarcastic mix of relief and dread. He was a transmigrator, not a new student. He was a fraud, and she was going to ruin his day, wasn't she? He stood, his boots scuffing the floor, his lanky frame awkward under her gaze.
"Oliver," he said, his voice rough, his lips twitching into a hesitant smile. "Just… getting used to this."
Enid's grin widened, but her fingers fidgeted with her sweater's hem, a micro-reaction that betrayed her cheer. It was the same strained cheer he had heard from her through the wall. He noticed the slight tremble in her hands, the way she avoided eye contact for a split second.
She's hiding something. Or she's just as scared as I am.
She grabbed his arm, her touch warm and insistent, and pulled him toward the door. "Come on, I'm giving you the grand Nevermore tour! You'll love it!"
Her enthusiasm was a lifeline, and Oliver let it pull him along, though the System's cold presence lingered in his mind, a constant, low-level buzz of awareness.
She's too bright for this place.
The Quad was a sprawl of Gothic architecture, its stone arches draped in a light mist that clung to Oliver's skin, cool and damp. The air smelled of wet grass and a faint, electric hum of magic, making his teeth ache. It felt like walking into a storm of static electricity. Enid bounced ahead, pointing out the outcast factions—sirens lounging by a fountain, their laughter sharp; gorgons with stony glares; vampires moving with unnatural grace.
The message flashed in Oliver's mind, and his eyes flicked to a gorgon student, her expression cold, her scarf hiding her snakes. Her posture was tense, her hands balled into fists in her pockets. She was contained, but the power was there, a low hum beneath her skin that Oliver could now feel. He brushed his tie, his fingers trembling slightly, the System's scan a cold weight in his chest.
What am I looking for? How do I stabilize something like that?
In the library, the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and mildew, the shelves towering like silent sentinels. Oliver's skin prickled, a chill settling in his bones as the System blared:
He touched a bookshelf, its wood warm under his fingertips, a lingering trace of someone—or something—else. Not the System. Not me. He felt a wave of nausea, the room seeming to spin, his ears ringing with the ghost of a sinister voice he couldn't place. His heart raced, his eyes scanning the shadows, the chill deepening. Enid chattered about the library's history, but her voice faltered when she mentioned her family, her fingers twisting her hair.
"They just… want me to be something I'm not," she said, her tone hushed, her eyes distant, as if looking at a past version of herself.
Oliver's chest tightened, her vulnerability a mirror to his own. He knew that feeling, the pressure to be something you weren't, the fear of disappointing those you loved. He reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder, a small gesture of support that felt clumsy but real. "You're enough," he said, his voice soft, surprising himself. It was a truth he desperately needed to hear himself.
Enid's smile returned, faint but genuine, her eyes brightening. Her touch on his arm felt less like a grab and more like a bond.
As they returned to the Quad, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows that stretched like claws across the grass. Enid's energy dimmed, her gaze catching on a sleek black car pulling up to the main gate.
"Oh, no," she whispered, her fingers tightening on her sweater, her voice tinged with dread. "The new roommate's here. And she looks… moody."
Oliver followed her gaze, spotting a girl in stark black, her posture rigid, her presence a storm cloud. She carried a grim, unyielding energy that even Oliver, with his new-found magical senses, could feel.
The message sent a shiver down his spine, the air suddenly colder, the mist thicker. It was as if the sun had vanished entirely. Another player in this game. A powerful one, if the System was warning him. Enid's hope for a friend clashed with her unease, and Oliver felt the weight of his own mysteries—warlock magic, the Serpent, the System—pressing down. The tour was over, but the real exploration was just beginning. His life at Nevermore wasn't a tour; it was a map, and every path was leading him deeper into the unknown.
Oliver's Internal Monologue (15 sentences) "This isn't a tour; it's a mission briefing. And I'm the newbie on the team. Enid's so much more than a quest marker, and the System can go suck a lemon for calling her an 'Emotional Anchor.' It's a miracle she can even smile with all that family pressure. And that gorgon… what did the System want me to do, offer her a hug? No, it's not that simple. Nothing here is. The warlock magic in the library, it felt old and dangerous, not like the System's clean, cold energy. Someone's been here before me, playing a much more serious game. And now her. The new roommate. A psychic catalyst, whatever that means. The System's not giving me answers, just more questions. I'm a wizard in a world of werewolves and vampires, and I have no idea how to cast a single spell. Great. Just great. But at least I have Enid. And she's not a tool. She's a person."
Enid's Internal Monologue (15 sentences) "He's so lost, isn't he? Oliver, with his nervous hands and those eyes that see too much. I want to help him, to make this place feel like home, but I'm barely holding it together myself. My parents' voices are still in my head, telling me I'm not enough, not wolf enough. Why can't I transform? Why can't I be what they want? Oliver's different—he's kind, but he's hiding something, like I am. The library, that chill—I felt it too, but I didn't say anything. I can't scare him off. He touched my shoulder, said I'm enough, and I wanted to believe him. But that car, that girl in black—she's going to change everything, isn't she? The System, the magic, it's all bigger than me, bigger than us. I'm just Enid, the girl who smiles too much, but I'll keep smiling for him. If I fall apart, who'll hold him together? I'm scared, but I'm here, and that's got to count for something."