NOVEL NEXT Chapter 39 - Orientation, Take Two
The gentle hum of mana pulsing through the walls pulled Nick from a deep sleep. Unlike normal alarm clocks, the gradual brightening of ambient light and subtle vibrations in the air made waking feel almost natural. He blinked, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling, the veins running along the walls pulsing with soft blue light that matched the rhythm of his breathing perfectly.
[System Notification: Dorm Resonance Sync – 84% Complete]
Nick sat up, rubbing his eyes as Sophia's interface materialized in his vision. The room looked different from when he'd fallen asleep. The walls now displayed some of the ancient glyphs he'd seen in Arlize's memory clearly. They shifted and realigned as he watched, responding to his consciousness desire to read and understand what they meant.
"Sophia, what's happening?" he murmured, placing his feet on the floor, which felt pleasantly warm against his skin.
[Room calibration proceeding according to parameters. Mana flow optimization at 84% efficiency. Estimated completion in 4.3 hours.]
The walls pulsed once, brighter than before, and a new notification appeared.
[Sophia: Dorm defenses registered. Personal space officially designated as 'Sanctum: Ω-Class Priority.']
"Omega-Class Priority?" Nick frowned. "What does that mean and is that visible to other students?"
Sophia's interface expanded, displaying a detailed explanation in crystal-blue text:
[Omega-Class Priority is a system designation reserved for entities exhibiting convergence-level traits: dual-soul fusion, multidimensional resonance alignment, and Arcadian system inheritance. You are one of one. To answer your second question: No, your classification is not visible to other students. Your dorm assignment, privileges, and synchronization tier are masked under a custom metadata shell labeled 'Enhanced Transfer Exemption – Level 7.' Only faculty with Tier III clearance or higher may be aware of your designation. All others, including other students, will only perceive you as a slightly overqualified transfer student.]
Nick absorbed this, a mixture of relief and unease settling in his stomach. "Are there other Omega-Class individuals in AIA other than myself?"
[No, Host is the only reported Omega-Class designation in 100 years of records. However, the library may have more comprehensive archives. Would the host like me to investigate further?]
"Yes, please."
[It may take some time and there is much to do today. May I dedicate background processing to running this query?]
"Yes, please do."
Nick ran a hand through his hair, processing the implications. So that's what the omega symbol at the top of his system messages meant. The special treatment—the private suite, the elevated permissions—it made more sense now. He'd been suspicious of all it.
Some faculty know what I am. Most don't. And none of the students have a clue. Good. Let's keep it that way—and steer clear of any professors with Tier III clearance or higher, he thought.
As long as the student body remains unaware and whatever perks his Omega-Class status gave him stayed unassuming, he would be fine.
After a quick shower—where the water temperature adjusted automatically to his preference without him touching a single control—Nick dressed and made his way to the common area. The smell of fresh coffee greeted him.
Maggie was already awake, curled up on one of the couches, her fingers dancing through the air as she manipulated a holographic interface only she could see. Several empty coffee mugs surrounded her, suggesting she'd been up for hours.
"Morning," Nick said, heading for the kitchen area. "How long have you been up?"
"Since about four," Maggie replied without looking up, her fingers never pausing their intricate movements. "I found something interesting in the system architecture."
Nick poured himself coffee from a carafe that had somehow remained perfectly hot. "Of course you did. It's been, what, twelve hours since we arrived? You couldn't wait a day before hacking the place?"
Maggie finally looked up, a manic gleam in her eyes that Nick recognized all too well from their time in Colombia. It was her "I've found a digital rabbit hole" expression.
"There's a hidden layer beneath the standard UI," she said, finally pausing her work to take a sip from her latest mug. "A Modular Input Sandbox that shouldn't be accessible to standard student interfaces."
"But you found it anyway," Nick said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.
"Obviously," Maggie scoffed. "The sandbox allows for custom code integration with the Academy's mana-tech grid. I've never seen anything like it. It's like they built in a backdoor specifically for technomancers."
"Can you tell if they know you're accessing it?"
Maggie's grin was answer enough. "Please. I'm routing through three proxy layers and mimicking normal system diagnostics. As far as their monitors can tell, my system is just running standard calibration."
The door to the third bedroom slid open, and Jordan emerged. Unlike them, he was already dressed in workout clothes, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead suggesting he'd been exercising for some time.
"Morning," he said, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen. "You two just waking up?"
"Some of us don't have military programming that forces us awake at ungodly hours," Maggie retorted, but her tone was playful.
Nick's system interface chimed softly, and all three of their personal devices activated simultaneously.
[TRAINING NOTIFICATION: Report to Dorm Training Hall C-8 for morning assessment. – Professor V.]
Jordan's eyebrows rose slightly. "Val's here?"
"Looks like it," Nick said, feeling a strange mix of relief and trepidation. Val's training methods were brutal but effective—and having her here meant they had at least one guaranteed ally.
"Well, we'd better not keep her waiting," Maggie sighed, closing her interface with a flick of her wrist.
Twenty minutes later, they entered Training Hall C-8, a circular chamber with polished stone floors inscribed with combat circles and walls lined with training weapons that sat in the basement of Grayspire Mountain. Dr. B had showed it to them yesterday on their way to their dorm suite. Val stood in the center, her posture perfect as always, dressed in the Academy's instructor uniform—dark gray with crimson accents that somehow made her look even more intimidating than usual.
"You're late," she said, though a quick check of Nick's interface showed they were actually two minutes early.
"Sorry, Professor," Jordan replied automatically, falling into a formal stance.
Val's expression remained stern, but Nick caught the faintest twitch of amusement in her eyes. "I hope you liked your fancy rooms. Let us begin."
For the next two hours, she drove them through a punishing regimen of runs, stretches, forms, and combat drills. The training circles activated beneath them as they sparred, monitoring their movements and occasionally adjusting gravity or air resistance to make exercises even more difficult.
"Your mana channels are still developing," Val explained as they paired off for the final exercise. "Daily physical conditioning ensures your pathways expand correctly. Skip even one day, and you'll feel the regression immediately."
By the end, all three were drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Nick's muscles burned pleasantly, and he could feel the mana flowing more smoothly through his system. Even Sophia seemed to approve, displaying his biometrics with encouraging statistics.
"Same time tomorrow," Val announced as they finished cooling down. "Every morning without fail. The Academy has allowed me to continue your training regardless of class schedules."
"Every morning?" Maggie groaned. "Even weekends?"
Val's smile was predatory. "Especially weekends." She softened slightly, adding, "You three need a familiar face here. Someone who knows what you're really capable of."
It was the closest thing to sentimentality they'd ever hear from Val, and Nick felt a surge of gratitude. They weren't alone here after all.
"Now get cleaned up and eat something substantial," Val ordered, returning to her usual brisk manner. "Orientation begins at noon, and you want to be at your best. First impressions matter at AIA."
After quick showers and a change of clothes, they made their way to the cafeteria. Unlike the previous evening, it wasn't empty. Several students occupied tables around the vast chamber, some engaged in casual conversation, others reviewing materials on personal interfaces.
Following Dr. B's instructions from yesterday, they each placed their palms on the glowing panel at the entrance. The system recognized them immediately, displaying personalized menu options calibrated to their specific nutritional needs.
"Hmmm. It's recommending a high-protein, complex carbohydrate meal for me," Jordan noted as they collected their food from one of the automated service stations.
"Looks like mine's packed with brain fuel," Maggie said, eyeing her plate. "I wonder how it knows I've been coding all night?"
"The system monitors everything," Nick said as they found a table near one of the massive windows overlooking the valley. "Sophia's been keeping track of the data collection protocols. Apparently, our rooms, the training halls, even the hallways are constantly scanning us."
"Well that's not creepy at all," Maggie muttered, fork already halfway to her mouth. Between bites, she filled them in on her overnight discoveries. "So that sandbox I mentioned? It's actually a development environment for system extensions. Every student interface has one, but most are locked down tight. Ours, however..."
"Let me guess," Jordan said. "Ours are special."
"Bingo. The Omega classification extends to our system access. I've got permissions that would make most hackers weep with joy." She lowered her voice. "I think I can access the security grid, training simulations, maybe even the grading systems."
Jordan frowned. "We're here to learn, not hack our way into trouble."
"Relax, super-soldier. I'm just saying we have options." Maggie glanced at her interface. "It's almost noon. We should head out if we want to see the main event."
As they exited the cafeteria, they noticed increased activity throughout Grayspire. Faculty members moved with purpose, and the few students they passed seemed to be heading in the same direction—toward the central courtyard.
They stepped outside into the crisp mountain air just as it began—a spectacle unlike anything Nick had ever witnessed. Across the valley, massive circles of light appeared in the air, expanding into swirling portals of various colors and patterns. From these dimensional gateways, students began to emerge in groups of ten to twenty.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
What was most interested about these portals is that each one bore distinct characteristics—some rimmed with frost crystals, others flickering with flame, still others shimmering like desert mirages.
"Different mana affiliations," Jordan observed. "Dr. Bojes mentioned this in the materials. Frost Domain, Ember Houses, Mirage Lineages—students align with elemental or conceptual mana types based on their aptitudes."
Nick wasn't listening anymore. His attention had been captured by something else—not the visual spectacle, but the mana signatures emanating from the arriving students. He could sense them, feel their resonance patterns as clearly as if they were colors or scents.
One signature in particular stood out—a girl stepping through a shadow-mirrored portal, her mana wrapped around her like a cloak of darkness. She moved with unconscious grace, her expression serene despite the chaos of arrival.
The next to catch his eyes was a boy with crimson glyphs tattooed on his face and scalp, each mark pulsing with power. His eyes scanned the crowd with calculated intensity.
"Jordan," Maggie said suddenly, nudging their friend. "Look over there."
A group of about thirty students had arrived through a portal bearing a familiar insignia—the APEX crest. They moved with military precision, forming neat rows as they exited the gateway. Beside them stood another, larger contingent with similar bearing but different uniforms.
"International Defense Corps," Jordan murmured. "And yes, I see them."
The APEX students had already noticed their group, their eyes cold and assessing. Nick could practically feel their threat analysis running. Among their number, however, was one face that brightened upon seeing them.
"Zora."
Jordan's voice carried a note of recognition. He raised a hand in greeting as the tall, dark-skinned woman with a close-cropped afro scanned the crowd. Upon spotting them, she offered a short, deliberate smile, making eye contact with each of them as she returned the wave. Even from a distance, Nick could read her stance—calm, alert, and calculating.
Nick tracked her approach with interest. "Didn't expect to see her again this soon. Think she transferred in?"
"Or was already stationed here and she just didn't tell us," Maggie added, waving back with more enthusiasm than Jordan had shown.
Jordan didn't take his eyes off Zora, his expression neutral but his posture subtly shifting to something more guarded. "She got us off campus when no one else could. That counts for something. Just... keep in mind she wasn't sent here by Marcus."
Nick raised an eyebrow, catching the unspoken warning in Jordan's tone. "But since she was willing to help before, we know she'll at least not kill us in our sleep now." The joke didn't quite land as he'd intended, and he felt rather than saw Jordan's slight tension.
Jordan shrugged, his shoulders tight. "Just remember that everyone here has their own agenda. Even people who've helped us before."
Before they could approach her, a deep, resonant tone echoed across the valley—a signal that caused all the students to shift direction toward a massive structure near the valley's center that resembled a cathedral made of crystal and stone.
"The System Integration Hall," Maggie read from her interface. "Looks like it's time for the Second-Year Sync Ceremony."
The Cathedral of Attunement lived up to its name. Soaring arches of crystal and stone created a space that seemed larger inside than physically possible. Throughout the vast chamber, large opaque stone constructs—roughly egg-shaped and approximately seven feet tall—floated above rune-etched pedestals. Each pedestal sat at the center of what Sophia identified as a "Resonance Well"—circular depressions in the floor filled with swirling, luminescent mist.
A hundred second-year students filed in, naturally sorting themselves into lines before each pedestal. Faculty members in formal robes stood at intervals around the chamber, monitoring the process with watchful eyes.
"What exactly are we doing here?" Nick whispered to Maggie, who was rapidly scanning information on her interface.
"System integration," she replied without looking up. "Each student has to sync their personal mana signature with the Academy's main grid. It's how they track progress, assign resources, and apparently determine rankings. We did this yesterday with Dr. B, so we should be fine."
"Rankings?" Jordan asked, eyebrows raised.
"To compare whose the best in the class," Maggie clarified rolling her eyes. "Like class standings, but for magical warrior school."
They joined the shortest line, watching as students ahead of them stepped into the Resonance Wells one by one. Each experience seemed slightly different—the mist would change color, sometimes patterns of light would dance across the stone construct, and occasionally there would be audible tones or whispered words that Nick couldn't quite make out.
When Maggie's turn came, she stepped forward with her usual confidence, though Nick caught the slight tremor in her hand as she entered the circle. The mist swirled around her ankles, then began to climb higher, enveloping her in a cocoon of light.
For a moment, everything proceeded normally—then the mist glitched, flickering erratically. The faculty member nearest their station straightened, hand moving to an interface at his wrist. Before he could intervene, the disruption stabilized, the mist flooding with vibrant green and gold patterns that resembled circuitry.
A notification appeared above Maggie's head, visible to everyone nearby:
[New Affinity Detected: Technomancer (Inert Tier)]
As she stepped out of the well, Nick noticed several curious glances from nearby students. A few whispered to each other, and he caught fragments:
"—technomancer affinity—" "—rare manifestation—" "—transfer student, but how—"
Maggie rejoined them, looking slightly dazed but pleased. "That was... intense," she said. "Like having my brain directly connected to a quantum supercomputer for a second."
Jordan stepped up next. He entered the circle, standing at perfect attention as the mist enveloped him. His experience differed markedly from Maggie's—the mist turned golden almost immediately, pulsing with steady, powerful waves. For a brief moment, the intensity spiked, causing the stone construct to glow brightly.
There was a moment of resistance, the mist swirling turbulently before suddenly calming. Above Jordan appeared his notification:
[Core Stabilized: Guardian Archetype – Internal Resonance]
As he stepped out, Nick noticed a faint holographic crest flicker briefly over Jordan's heart before fading—a shield with crossed swords behind it.
"Did you see that?" Nick asked as Jordan rejoined them.
"See what?" Jordan asked, looking unusually disoriented.
Before Nick could answer, it was his turn. He approached the Resonance Well, every sense heightened. Sophia's interface sprang to life as he stepped toward the mist.
[Host, I will mask your dual-signature. Don't hesitate.]
Stepping into the well, nothing happened at first. The mist swirled around Nick's feet but didn't climb higher. The stone construct remained dormant, with no pulsing lights or sounds emerging from it.
The attending faculty member frowned, checking his interface with obvious confusion. Nick stood perfectly still, his heart racing despite his outward calm. Had something gone wrong? Would this expose them on their first day?
Then Sophia's interface expanded across his vision, overlaying information only he could see:
[Ω-Class Host detected. Tier II interface unlock suspended—awaiting Concordance Catalyst.]
Beneath this message, a line of Arcadian glyphs appeared, glowing with ancient power. Nick didn't need a translation to understand their meaning:
"Heir of Dentragon, welcome."
Well that's not ominous. Nick thought, as he watched the words hang in the air for a second before disappearing.
The faculty member approached, still frowning. "Step out of the well, please," he said quietly. "The system seems to be experiencing a minor glitch with your profile. Nothing to concern yourself with—we'll make adjustments later."
As Nick left the well, he glanced toward the back of the cathedral where a robed figure stood partially in shadow. The Headmaster, he presumed, though he couldn't make out the man's features clearly. The figure had been writing notes on a crystal tablet but had paused, head tilted slightly as if listening to something no one else could hear.
Their group moved on, allowing Nick to observe other students completing their synchronization:
A tall, pale student with silvery hair stepped into a well, causing the mist to crystallize into delicate frost patterns. [Core Stabilized: Tier I – Frost Shaper]
Twin brothers with matching amber eyes triggered flames that danced around their pedestals. [Skill Branch: Ember Adept – Progress 42%]
A petite girl with elaborate braids caused her mist to fragment into mirror-like shards that reflected different scenes with each movement. [Skill Tree Branch: Mirage Illusionist – Unlocked]
The diversity of talents impressed Nick, each student manifesting unique ways of interacting with the ambient mana. He found himself automatically cataloging the various abilities, assessing their potential combat applications.
As the ceremony concluded, faculty members directed the students toward what appeared to be the central heart of the Academy—a massive domed structure surrounded by floating platforms that formed a gradually ascending spiral to its entrance.
The Great Hall defied conventional architecture. Its massive central dome seemed composed of living crystal that shifted and rippled like a lake's surface. Floating platforms arranged in concentric circles served as seating, each ring suspended at a different height to provide unobstructed views of the central stage. Living banners hung from unseen supports, their surfaces displaying moving images of Academy history, notable alumni, and what appeared to be recordings of dimensional phenomena.
Most breathtaking was the dome itself, which Nick realized somehow reflected the mana currents of the sky above—not just the visual sky, but the actual dimensional leylines that crisscrossed Earth's atmosphere, invisible to normal perception.
The students found seats on one of the middle platforms, which adjusted its height slightly as they settled in. Around them, the excited chatter of hundreds of students created a constant background hum until, suddenly, complete silence fell.
No announcement had been made, no request for quiet. The silence spread like a wave from the center outward as a single figure stepped onto the central stage—a man of imposing height with steel-gray hair and features that seemed carved from granite. He wore simple robes of midnight blue with subtle silver embroidery along the edges, yet he commanded attention more effectively than anyone Nick had ever seen.
Headmaster Kestrel.
He stood motionless for a long moment, his gaze sweeping the assembly with deliberate slowness. When he finally spoke, his voice carried effortlessly to every corner of the hall without seeming amplified.
"You are not here to learn spells or swing weapons." His first words sent a ripple of surprise through the students. "You are here to become the line between Earth and annihilation."
He began to pace slowly, each step precise and measured.
"The Veil is breaking."
These four words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The living banners around the hall shifted to display images of dimensional tears—jagged rifts in reality pulsing with alien energies.
"The question is—will you break before it does?"
Kestrel stopped, his eyes once again scanning the assembled students.
"This is not a school in the conventional sense. This is a forge—and you are the raw material from which we must craft Earth's defenders. Some of you come from military backgrounds," his gaze flickered briefly toward the APEX contingent, "others from academic pursuits or family traditions of dimensional study. Your origins matter less than your potential."
With a gesture from the Headmaster, a holographic display materialized above the central stage—a global map with pulsing red points scattered across all continents.
"These are confirmed Veil breaches from the past six months. Their frequency has increased by 218% compared to the previous year. Their intensity has grown by 344%."
The display shifted to show various scenes: a forest where trees grew upside-down, defying gravity; a city street where pedestrians walked through a swarm of crystalline butterflies that phased in and out of visibility; a desert where a perfect sphere of water hovered motionless above the sand.
"Minor manifestations," Kestrel continued, his voice grave. "Curiosities that most civilians attribute to hoaxes or natural phenomena they don't yet understand. But these are merely symptoms of a much larger problem."
The display changed again, showing something that made several students gasp—a massive tentacular shape emerging from a rift above an ocean, its form blurred as if reality itself rejected its presence.
"Class-3 Void Entity, neutralized by Academy graduates off the coast of New Zealand last month. This is what awaits when the Veil fails completely—not just strange physics or exotic energy, but conscious entities that view our dimension as territory to be claimed, resources to be harvested, or worse."
The image faded, replaced by the Academy's emblem—a stylized shield with a dimensional rift at its center.
"This year's training will focus on Convergence Preparedness. You will develop combat adaptability and dimensional response protocols beyond anything you've previously encountered. Your class schedules already reflect this priority."
With another gesture, new information materialized above the stage:
[Annual Directive: Convergence Preparedness | Priority: Combat Adaptability + Dimensional Response]
"Additionally, the Council of Watchers has authorized the reactivation of our traditional ranking system."
This announcement sent a ripple of reaction through the returning students. Some leaned forward with excitement, others slumped back with visible dread.
[Dorm Rankings: Spire S - F – Pending Evaluation] [Points System Reactivated – Rank Matches Begin Tomorrow at 0800]
"Your performance, both individual and as dormitory groups, will determine your access to advanced training facilities, special instructional sessions, and priority equipment allocation." Kestrel's expression remained stern. "This isn't about fostering unhealthy competition. It's about identifying those with the highest potential to lead when the crisis comes—as it inevitably will."
He paused, and for just a moment, his gaze seemed to find Nick specifically among the hundreds of faces.
"Some of you carry burdens beyond your years. Some harbor secrets you believe no one else knows." His voice softened almost imperceptibly. "Know this—at the Academy, you will find your true measure, for better or worse. The challenges ahead will strip away pretense and reveal your core nature."
The Headmaster straightened, addressing the entire assembly once more. "Faculty members will now distribute your finalized schedules and dormitory assignments. First classes begin tomorrow at 0800 hours sharp. Dismissed."
As students began to rise from their seats, the platforms gently descended to allow exit. Nick exchanged glances with Maggie and Jordan. None of them needed to voice what they were all thinking: their mission at the Academy had just become significantly more complicated.
Not only would they need to maintain their cover and learn what they could about the Veil's deterioration, but they would also be constantly evaluated, ranked, and pushed to their limits throughout the process.
"So," Maggie said as they moved with the crowd toward the exit, "ranked combat matches, huh? No pressure or anything."
Jordan's expression remained unreadable, but Nick caught the tension in his shoulders when he spoke. "We should try to stay under the radar. Go for a mid-tier performance. Nothing that draws attention."
Nick nodded, but as they filed out of the Great Hall, he couldn't shake the feeling that the Headmaster's words had been aimed directly at him. The way Kestrel had looked at him, the mention of secrets and burdens...