Tap—Tap—Tap—
The rhythmic strike of boots against the obsidian floor echoed through the corridors as Ash and Kairos departed the classroom.
The hallway was a sea of movement, filled with students from various classes—hundreds of young men and women wearing the weight of their own potential.
They relied on their Identity Chronographs to navigate.
According to the holographic map, their dormitory wasn't located within the main keep but nestled atop one of the floating satellite towers that circled the castle like silent sentinels.
Their room number was 001, a designation that mirrored their class.
As they walked, Ash observed other groups.
Clusters of boys and girls laughed and chatted, forming bonds with an ease that felt entirely foreign to him. In the Ash Area, a stranger's smile usually preceded a blade; here, it was a social currency. Ash glanced at the boy walking beside him.
'Even the people in my own class are strange,' he thought.
"Wow... this place is massive," Kairos remarked, his eyes darting toward the vaulted ceilings.
"I wonder how they built this. Look at the materials—everything looks reinforced, built to withstand a siege."
Kairos turned to Ash, his blue eyes bright with restless energy.
"I was surprised by the crowd, too. How many people do you think are in this intake, Ash?"
"I'm not sure," Ash replied, his voice flat with a touch of exhaustion.
"Perhaps over ten thousand."
"Ten thousand? That's insane! I was guessing five thousand at most,"
Kairos continued, undeterred by Ash's brevity. He launched into a relentless stream of questions about the architecture, the food, and the potential of the other students.
'Why didn't anyone warn me that Kairos was a chatterbox?' Ash lamented internally.
"Hey! You two! Ash, Kairos!"
A voice hailed them from behind.
They turned to see a tall young man jogging to catch up. He stood about 1.82 meters, with dark hair tinged with deep blue and eyes that carried a subtle, smoky gray hue.
Ash searched his memory, trying to place the face from the classroom, but his earlier dissociation made it difficult.
Fortunately, Kairos was faster.
"Leo Vulcan? You were sitting behind Kael, right?"
The newcomer nodded, catching his breath.
"I'm glad you remembered. Yes, Leo Vulcan. It turns out we're roommates, so I figured we might as well head up together. I tried to find you after class, but the crowd was a mess. Lucky I caught you before you reached the gates."
Kairos grinned, always welcoming of company.
"The more the merrier! Right, Ash?"
Ash gave a curt nod. As they continued, he felt a wave of relief; Leo's presence provided a buffer, drawing Kairos's endless stream of questions away from him.
Guided by their watches, the trio reached the Gateway Hub—a circular hall near the main entrance containing twenty massive teleportation arches.
Each gate corresponded to one of the twenty floating towers. A single tower housed twenty classes, divided by gender.
Ash looked at his watch. Gate One. Tower One.
They stepped through the shimmering veil of the first gate.
...
The world blurred for a split second before they materialized in a vast, panoramic lobby.
"Oh, man... look at this place," Kairos breathed.
"But where do we go next?"
Suddenly, a synthesized, crisp voice chirped from their Chronographs.
[Greetings, residents of Tower One. I am ONE, the Artificial Intelligence assigned to this spire. If you have questions, address them through your devices. I will now guide you to your dormitory.]
Following ONE's digital breadcrumbs, they crossed the lobby to a localized elevator gate labeled 'Top Tier.'
Without hesitation, they stepped through.
They emerged into a wide, pristine corridor.
The walls were decorated with elegant black-and-white stripes, giving the space a clinical yet sophisticated feel.
Ash turned around and saw a floor-to-ceiling transparent pane. From this vantage point, the main obsidian castle looked like a dark god rising from the forest floor.
"Wait," Ash muttered.
"Are we on the highest floor?"
Leo walked to the window, his expression thoughtful.
"It seems the towers are organized in ascending order. Lower numbers at the top, higher numbers at the base. It's a subtle form of classification."
"Wait," Leo continued.
"We are Room 001. We're the only New Age City Openers in this intake. They've given us the top floor as a sign of prestige."
Kairos frowned, his cheerful demeanor flickering.
"Doesn't that just isolate us? Every other class in the lower tiers will be looking up at us with targets on our backs."
Ash stayed silent, but he agreed. His goal was to go unnoticed, yet the school had seen fit to place him on a literal pedestal.
His life was moving from bad to worse.
"If they want this spot, let them try to take it."
The voice came from the teleportation gate. Kael, Soren, and Fenrir stepped out, looking like they had finally finished their debate—or at least reached a stalemate.
It was Soren who had spoken, a sharp, arrogant glint in his platinum eyes.
Fenrir bared his teeth in a jagged smile.
"Ha! If those pups dare to bark at this height, I'll tear them apart myself."
"Enough, both of you," Kael interrupted, his voice the anchor of the group.
"If this is our position, we must defend it with dignity, not reckless aggression." He turned to Ash's group. "You three just get here?"
"Just now," Kairos replied.
"Surprised you guys finished your 'discussion' so quickly."
Kael shook his head wearily.
"It wasn't a discussion. It was a four-way monologue about who deserves the crown more."
He shifted his gaze toward Ash, his eyes intense.
"And it's hard to talk when some people decide the conversation is beneath them and walk out."
Ash ignored the barb. "Let's just see the room."
Side-stepping the drama, the six boys approached a door on the left. It was finished in matte black with a glowing digital plaque: 'MALE DORMITORY – CLASS 001.'
Ash raised his watch to the sensor.
The door hissed open.
The room was a perfect square, 7x7 meters. It was sparse, almost ascetic. Six metal bed frames were arranged in two rows of three, each separated by exactly one meter of floor space.
Beside each bed sat a small, bolted-down locker.
In the far corner was a communal bathroom, visible through a frosted glass door. It was large enough to accommodate ten people at once—meaning the six of them would be sharing everything.
"Oho! This is interesting," Kairos said, his mischievous energy returning.
"I've never done the whole communal shower thing. I'll finally get to show off my perfect physique!"
"Count me in," Soren added with a smirk.
"I have nothing to hide."
Kael and Leo remained indifferent, seemingly accustomed to military-style living.
Only Ash felt the internal cringe.
'Seriously? I have to bathe with people I've known for less than two hours?'
Next to the shower were six small toilet stalls. And that was it. No desks, no chairs, no entertainment. Just a room for sleeping and cleaning.
They moved to their designated beds, which were marked with digital nameplates. Ash's bed was in the center of his row.
Fenrir was to his left, closer to the wall, and Kael was to his right, near the center of the room. Soren was directly across from Ash in the second row, flanked by Leo and Kairos.
Beep—Beep—
Their watches synchronized with the room's system.
Simultaneously, six small storage rifts opened above their lockers, dropping a package onto each bed: a single pillow and a thin, olive-green blanket.
Along with the bedding, a holographic manual flickered into existence above their beds.
"What in the hell is this?!" Kairos, Soren, and Fenrir shouted in unison.
Kael rubbed his temples and let out a long, suffering sigh.
Ash's eye twitched as he read the "instruction manual" that had appeared.
It was a detailed, step-by-step guide on how to fold their blankets and arrange their pillows.
The instructions were agonizingly specific: the blanket had to be folded into a sharp, perfect rectangular prism—commonly known as a "tofu block" in old military terms. No wrinkles. No soft edges.
The corners had to be sharp enough to cut paper.
The manual stated that inspections would occur twice daily—once after morning wake-up and once after the midday break—conducted by Colonel Karl.
Failure to meet the "Standard of Order" would result in repetitive folding drills until the student collapsed from exhaustion.
Ash had hoped for a moment of peace, but the "Iron Calendar" had already begun to grind him down.
He looked at the three boys who were currently cursing at their blankets as if they were deadly enemies, and he let out a heavy sigh.
'This is going to be a very long time.'