The massive logo of the N.A.S.H. blazes across the sky, its holographic shimmer washing over the courtyard like a sunrise. Students and WLH club members freeze as they walk off the bus, their faces lit by the glow.
Victor immediately lifts his sleeve to shield his eyes — the brightness hits him harder than anyone else. The Schattenkristall embedded in his watch flickers, its power thinning, and the shadows around his body weaken like a flame in the wind.
Pammi, meanwhile, can't look away. Her tail straightens with excitement, the fur along it bristling as she stares at the emblem, wide‑eyed and breathless. Without realizing it, her tail activates, absorbing some of the light radiating from the hologram. The sign dims slightly, as if bowing to her presence.
She still can't believe it. She's really here. The National Animal Safe Haven. The place she's dreamed about since she was little.Thinking of all the exotic animals — from the revived Tasmanian tiger to the speckled pigeon — sends a spark of excitement through Pammi, though she tries her best to stay composed. Victor's pendant slowly returns to full capacity, its shadow energy stabilizing, while Pammi's pendant still holds the light it absorbed from the N.A.S.H. emblem.
Ms. Wool leads the scholars toward the main building, signaling for everyone to stay uniform and proper. Pammi and Victor walk side by side, Amethest drifting behind them. Victor is glued to his smartphone, tapping away at card games, while Pammi takes in every detail of the sanctuary around them. Amethest, half‑transparent again, begins to fade and doze mid‑float.
Inside the building, the chaperone gathers the group and introduces them to Olio Rizoto — a tall, soft-spoken Canadian-Italian man with a cybernetic beetle shoulder and a quiet intensity. Though young, his presence feels seasoned, and the way he watches the students suggests he understands more than he says.
Mr. Rizoto introduces himself, "Hello! Students and scholars of Akademia Minos Power! My name is Mr. Rizoto, full name Olio Rizoto. I'll be your tour guy for today's trip. Before we start, please be respectful to staff and animals; otherwise, I'll have to "escort" you out of the building." He smiles warmly.
The scholars nod their heads and the tour begins.
Back at the academy at 12:35 P.M., Amy and Cristine study together in the cafeteria. Cristine slams her pencil down and groans loud enough for three tables to look over. "Ughhh, Amy, why do we always get the hard work when Pammi isn't here? This is discrimination. Against… tired people."
Amy doesn't even look up from her notebook. "Cristine, you're literally writing your name in cursive letters."
Cristine glances down. "…It helps me think."
Amy sighs and sips her soup broth, finally meeting her friend's eyes. "Okay, listen. I don't know why we get stuck with the hard stuff. Maybe—like—it's a message."
Cristine blinks. "A message from who? The universe? The cafeteria service bot?"
"No," Amy says, leaning in like she's about to reveal ancient wisdom.
"From life. From destiny. From… responsibility."
Cristine stares at her. "Amy, are you okay?"
Amy waves her off. "No, seriously. Think about it. We rely on Pam way too much. She's a smarty, yeah, but we're older than her. We can't keep letting her carry us like a backpack."
Cristine crosses her arms. "I'm sure we're the most comfortable backpacks; people would love to carry us."
"Cristine."
"…Fine."
Amy softens, tapping Cristine's worksheet. "Look, we can do this. We just have to actually try. Like, for real. I get that cursive is fancy, but be real, are you a fancy girl?"
Cristine slowly turns to Amy, "If we weren't such best friends, I'd give you the hardest smack of your entire life." She says, dead serious. "But I'll let it pass for now... And yes, I am fancy." She says while eating Musakhan messily.
Amy chuckles. "I forget that you're Palestinian sometimes..."
Cristine grunts. "Rude, this meal is far greater than whatever you're eating."
They both pause and then laugh, the tension melting as they lean over their papers—two chaotic girls finally deciding to act like the older duo… at least for the next ten minutes. Cristine calculates how many inches are needed to find the remaining distance of a football field, while Amy studies how much force is required to push a car. The girls were working diligently, helping each other out and solving questions together.
Across the table, next to the lunch line, were some of the loudest, most obnoxious students ever. Not only that, but most people would agree with that statement. 3 pendant bearers and 2 AG students. These 2 AG students are the soul of this group, Zenshou Gaoja and Percy Yakuot, a Japanese transfor student and an Indian-American AG scholar. They are much more talkative than they seem, somehow mixing Hindu with rural Japanese together and just going all in.
Zenshou, slipping bits of Japanese between sentences, mainly rambles about "classic" music artists like 50 Cent, Kanye West, and King Von. Every few seconds, he slaps the table or throws his arms around like he's waving a pistol, fully committing to his King Von impression.
Percy, doing the same with Hindu, launches into loud rants about criminal gangs and unlawful politics — the history of Venezuela's 2025 president, the Taliban's unjust systems, anything that sounds way too adult for a 13-year-old.
He flails his hands so wildly that teachers sometimes mistake it for hand-signing cantations, which is how multiple birds have materialized out of thin air during lunch.
Do you see it now? This group is the Magician Squad — a collection of obnoxious bozos and show‑off scholars. Every time someone walks past them, whether a bird or a series of bees, something always happens during this time. At least Zenshou can make free honey, I guess.
Amy sighs and takes another sip of her soup. "I swear, they get louder every day. Cristine, have you ever been headshot by an Indian Pitta? Or had random grass sprout in your hair? Didn't think so." Cristine freezes mid‑bite, slowly lowering her chicken. "…Girl. What?"
Amy pauses and laughs, ironically louder than the Magicians over by the lunch line, quickly lowering her voice so she doesn't seem a descendant of one of them.
"Exactly, but those boys over there, yeah, they're the issue. One time, I was trying to reset my computer password, and the boy with glasses came over to me and sprouted a bunch of tulips inside my water bottle. For apparently no reason! Or maybe he likes me... Nah, anyway-"
"HEY!"
Percy rushes over with the speed of a blackbuck, skidding to a stop in front of their table. "Which one of you was screaming!? We're having an important conversation about music and the judicial system! We need to focus, you hooligans." He sounds furious, but his posture is weirdly authoritative — like a tiny, angry politician.
Cristine gets a bit rosy. "Who… are you?"
Then it hits her, and she snaps upright. "…HUH!? Who do you think you are?! Coming over here and yelling at us like that!? Get lost! You like flowers, right? Go sniff some!"
Cristine gets right in his face, voice rising. Percy stumbles back, stunned — he's never seen a girl with this much raw, unfiltered confidence. In the face of drama‑queen Yotta, the mighty Percy Yakuot has been defeated.
"Okay, just because I have an 'Alma de Flora', and you don't, doesn't mean I sniff flowers. I am Percy Yakuot, future senator of North Carolina. Aren't you just a 4th-grader? You should bow before me, you low-class Palestinian trash! You want to talk tough, let's talk about some of your history! You should be familiar with that, right!?"
The whole lunchroom gasps, and Cristine starts tearing up, not in sadness but mainly in laughter. She has some competition, a worthy rival for Christine's sass. Regardless, she still sobs a bit, Amy interjecting, "Stop bullying little kids, you old man. Crissy's right, shoo, go away!"
People from the lunchroom interject, "Not cool, dude." "Arrogant." "Tyrant, what's next? You're gonna enslave her? Get real"
Even the magician's gesture, "Let's go, Percy. That's enough," Zenshou makes a carpet of vines, dragging Percy back to the table. From there, the lunchroom is quiet; people are just eating, sipping, and whispering. Where's the staff member watching the students? At a Wendy's drive-thru.
Exploring the aquarium with Victor, Pammi wonders how Cristine and Amy are doing. They are probably studying together, cracking jokes, and enjoying their cultural food—nothing to worry about. Still, a tiny knot of worry sits in her stomach.
That group of kids might cause trouble. After all, they're the ones who make fun of her hair and tail, always teasing her for being a "freak." Ironic, isn't it? A girl who can talk with her tail is being mocked by kids who can summon bees.
"This here is the horned strider," Olio explains, tapping the glass with a gloved finger. "A shark noted for its long, curved nose and its bursts of smooth, rhythmic, sharp swimming."
The creature glides past like a blade through water. Victor's eyes widen. For once, he isn't shrinking into his hoodie — he's mesmerized.
Without thinking, he lifts his wrist. The Schattenkristall flickers, then pulses. A shadow of a giant hand seeps into the tank and grabs the horned strider's silhouette, snatching it off and dragging it into the Schattenkristall's inventory of shadows.
Pammi gasps. "Victor… you copied it?"
He sways his head to the left. "I might've, we'll see."
He turns to her, shaky but confident. "Pammi, shine some of that light of yours... please."
She blinks, then smiles. "Sure." Her pendant glows, divine light blooming across the aquarium wall like a sunrise.
Victor steps forward. He takes a breath. "The horned strider may seem impressive, but... I can do this. Come forth, Horned Strider!"
A massive shadow erupts from his watch — the horned strider, sleek and sharp, swimming across the wall in perfect rhythm. Gasps ripple through the room.
Then, just as quickly, the shadow collapses into smoke and vanishes.
Victor staggers, gripping the railing. "Yikes… that was… intense."
Pammi steadies him, her tail swaying in a slow, proud rhythm. "Victor! That was amazing!"
He looks away, flustered. "I just… wanted to show something cool for once."
Pammi's pendant flares brighter than she realizes, a warm burst of light radiating from her tail. Olio immediately hisses, "Pammi! Please lower the brightness of your tail. That much light can be dangerous for the aquatic life."
Before Pammi can react, Amethest drifts in like a curious specter, lowering her face until her eye hovers directly in front of the glow. The light bends around her iris, narrowing into a thin, concentrated beam.
"Hmm…" she mumbles, adjusting her angle. "Such an easy ray to redirect."
Pammi stiffens. "A‑Amethest! Stop that! You're going to get us kicked out!"
But Amethest is already sweeping the beam across the floor like a laser pointer. The fish inside the tank follow the moving line in a synchronized spiral, mesmerized. However, things take a drastic turn, a faint hiss rises from the carbon‑concrete composite floor as the beam grazes it, the surface beginning to soften.
Olio's voice cuts through the air — not loud, but sharp enough to freeze the room.
"Pammi," he says, lowering his tone, his words heavy, "you need to extinguish that beam. Immediately!"
The pump in his left shoulder begins to hum — a slow, deliberate mechanical rhythm, like something waking up.
The surrounding students and club members erupt in worried chatter as researchers rush to the tank, checking for fractures while others back away from Pammi.
"That beam wasn't regulated—did you see the heat spike?"
"Pammi, hurry up and put out the light!"
"What kind of freak has that much power!?"
A WLH club member points to the melted floor. "Carbon-concrete only melts under focused discharge…" Another adjusts her glasses, staring at Pammi's pendant. "That beam couldn't've been an accident."
The murmurs intensify.
"Should we call Ms. Wool?"
"No—Olio's handling it."
"Handling it? He'll do more than handle it if she doesn't stop the beam."
"This facility is designed to protect fragile species," he continues, eyes fixed on the melting floor. His face showed his annoyance, "If your light compromises the environment any further… I will have no choice but to escort you out myself." He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't move. He just watches — slowly getting calmer and calmer — as the pump primes further and further.
Unlike Milo Bao, whose acid sloshes freely through her forearms, Olio's biology is engineered for precision. His cyber‑beetle shoulder can pressurize his acid into a wide, expanding foam… or vacuum‑compress it into a highly concentrated burst.
And right now, the system could be preparing for either.
Victor's voice cracks. "Pammi, please—!"
Amethest tilts her head and floats away from the pendant. "Oh. I don't understand what he's doing... But it looks... Scary"
Pammi snaps her tail upward, forcing the pendant to dim. The beam collapses instantly, the floor cooling with a faint crackle.
The pump winds down. Olio exhales once.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "Let's avoid further incidents."
Pammi bows her head, mortified. "S‑sorry, Mr. Rizoto… I didn't mean for it to get that strong." Victor leans in, voice soft. "It's okay. You stopped it."
Amethest floats behind her, whispering with a grin, "You almost melted the floor. Quite impressive."
Pammi's tail smacks her in the face.
As the tour unfolds, laughter and excitement fill the air, especially with Victor and Pammi's lighthearted banter. Other students engage in lively discussions about Pammi's recent accident, blending concern with friendship.
Led by Mr. Rizoto, an engaging biology lesson on animal classification captivates the students, who eagerly take notes and ask questions. Amethest, noticing the playful energy, encourages her peers to focus on the educational purpose of the trip while appreciating their beautiful surroundings.
At 2:45 P.M., Ms. Wool activates the CALL button on her geosolar finder, signaling for students to gather as the bus approaches. Excited chatter fills the air as they reflect on the day's adventures.
Students grab their backpacks and share laughs before boarding the bus, where the sense of camaraderie envelops them. As the bus doors close and the engine roars to life, nostalgia settles in, marking the end of an exhilarating and memorable field trip.
Olio waves goodbye, a smile on his face. "I shouldn't've been so mean to that girl; she was probably just doing that by mistake. Little ones get careless sometimes; it's natural, unlike that beam. It's fascinating..." Olio walks back inside to the staff, "Sup, gals, how did you like the visitors?"
"Sup, gals, how did you like the visitors?"
A young researcher with a tablet hugged to her chest — practically lights up. "Oh, they were adorable! Did you see the leopard girl's pendant output? I've never recorded a prism flare that stable at her age. I swear, if she comes back, I'm running a full spectral analysis. With permission, of course." She's already tapping notes into her tablet, eyes sparkling.
A rural security surveilant chimes in, leaning on the counter, chewing dried plums, barely pays attention to Olio.
"They were fine." A slow blink. "Kids. Floating girl. Light beam. Almost melted the floor. Whatever." She shrugs. "I've seen worse. Remember the octopus incident?"
She goes right back to checking the footage behind the building.
The marine mammal observer, arms crossed, jaw tight, speaks without raising her voice.
"They were… lively." A pause. "Next time, please remind your guests that our flooring is not rated for laser‑grade tantrums."
Her smile is polite. Her tone is not.
"And if that floating one phases through another restricted door, I'm filing a report."
Olio chuckles under his breath. "Yeah, yeah. I'll keep an eye on 'em next time."
The fascinated one pipes up again, "Oh! And if the light girl ever wants to volunteer for a harmless light‑output study—"
The petty one cuts her off. "No. Absolutely not."
The bored one sighs. "Wake me up when someone actually breaks something." Olio sighs.
While on the bus, Pammi's pendant is dim. Victor's shadows have stopped twitching. Amethest floats beside them, resting her head in her arms, grinning like she just got away with something.
"So," she says, voice syrupy, "do I count as part of the squad now? Or do I need to melt another floor?"
Pammi groans. "You almost got us escorted."
Amethest shrugs. "Almost. But didn't."
Victor glances at her, unsure. "You're… not exactly normal."
Amethest beams. "Exactly. See, Viccy? You always seem to get me."
Pammi's ear twitches. She turns, irritated. "Who do you think you are calling my boy 'Viccy'?"
Amethest raises a brow. "Your boy?"
Pammi huffs. "I'm gonna find a way to make you tangible, and you're gonna find out. Just you wait."
A faint rivalry sparks between them — Amethest completely unbothered, Pammi quietly furious, Amethest always "claiming" Victor without ever permission.
"Girls, stop," Victor says, rubbing his temples. "That's enough… I'm already exhausted from my trick earlier, and I just want to rest. Sorry for yelling."
Pammi and Amethest both look at him as he settles down. Pammi wraps her tail around him protectively, while Amethest floats a little higher so she won't disturb him.
He looks like a real ladies' man — I'm joking, of course, but it is funny seeing such a quiet guy suddenly surrounded by two girls who both think he's theirs in different ways.
The rest of the ride is smooth. No arguments, no drama — just the three of them waiting to get back to school.
3:03 P.M.
Cristine and Amy are settled on a floating metal bench near the entrance of the main academy, energy drinks in hand, their fingers idly scrolling through social media on their phones. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow around them, while the distant whine of the bus fills the air as it makes its way around the vehicle loop, eventually coming to a halt with a soft hiss of its brakes.
Ms. Wool stands at the front of the bus, her voice breaking through the chatter of excited students as she instructs them to leave the bus in a well-mannered order. One by one, they shuffle off, a colorful mix of backpacks bobbing with each step. The line continues until it finally reaches Victor, Pammi, and Amethest, who are clustered together, sharing hushed whispers and the occasional giggle.
Cristine nudges Amy with a playful grin. "There they are. And… something else," she adds, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Intrigued, Amy squints through the throng of students spilling from the bus. "Who's the floating one?" she asks, her brow creasing as she tries to make out the figure hovering slightly above the ground, seemingly unhindered by the gravity that constrains the others.
"Girl, why would I point her out if I already knew?" Cristine quips back, her usual sass evident in her tone, a smirk curling on her lips.
As the trio approaches, Pammi lets out a dramatic sigh, her cheeks tinted with a mix of embarrassment and resignation. Once they reach the two of them, Pammi says, drained, "Hey guys…" She waves weakly. "If you're wondering who's the floating girl, this is Amethest," she says, gesturing toward her friend with a hint of annoyance. "She wants to join our cult…"
Amethest obliges with a lazy spin, her hair and clothes drifting like she's underwater. "I'm not asking permission. I'm declaring it."
Cristine raises a brow. Amy sips her monster. Victor looks like he wants to evaporate.
Pammi sighs again. "Okay, circle. Emergency meeting."
The four of them huddle up—Cristine leaning in with her arms crossed, Amy crouching slightly to hear better, Victor awkwardly squeezed between Pammi's tail and Cristine's shoulder.
They whisper in frantic little bursts: "She's weird.""She's funny.""She almost got us kicked out.""But she's kinda cool.""Floating is a plus."
After a few seconds, they break the huddle.
Cristine shrugs. "Yeah, she can join."
Amy nods. "Welcome to the club, I guess."
Victor gives a tiny thumbs‑up.
Pammi turns back to Amethest, resigned. "Congratulations. You're in."
Amethest beams. "Obviously."
The bells ring, with students rushing out of the building. Kids getting in their parents' car, students walking, and taking the bus. Other uses unusual travel methods like Zenshou, using his Alma de la flor - Mahō no Kinone / Soul of the flower - Tree roots of magic to create a transportation tree that works like a catapult. Percy uses his Alma de la flor - Paraagan / Soul of the flower - Polli-Nation to summon an ostrich-sized hummingbird, riding off.
Of course, Flary, the great kokuen of divinity, teleports in, beam of light and everything. "Hey, little Pam, Dad's here to pick you up! Did you have a good day at school?" Pammi turns her head, seeing her father gets her full of energy. "Hi Dad!" She tells the group goodbye, hugging Victor and snarking at Amethest before running to Flary. It's warm and touching; with that, they vanish. A bright pink and yellow beam of light fills the sky, teleporting them away to Brazil.
Amy and Cristine take the bus together, waving at Amethest and Victor goodbye. And finally, the two are left alone.
Victor breaks the silence, "So... You get driven home or..." Amethest stops levitating, her transparency fades, showing her true self in the moment. Her gothic dress, laced black boots, large witch hat, and makeup pop, even with being all black. Her baby blue colored nails and blonde hair only give her more character.
Victor freezes. He didn't expect her to look… like that. Amethest breaks the ice once more, "Be honest — I look better than Pammi, right? Kidding. Mostly." She giggles. Victor responds, "You... You look great, honestly.." Amethest chuckles, "Really? Why, thank you. Why don't you walk home with me? Hmm?" Victor felt his cheeks warm up. "Uuuh… sure, but just don't do anything weird, okay?"
Amethest appears behind him, locking their arms together, "I promise I won't." She winks.
Victor sighs, and the two drift into the evening, leaving the day's madness behind and stepping quietly into whatever comes after.