The room was quiet.
Not awkward-quiet. Just three-strangers-learning-how-to-exist-in-the-same-space quiet.
Sion lay on his bed with one arm behind his head, the other holding his badge up toward the ceiling like he expected it to explain itself. It's display was projected right to his field of vision.
John was slouched sideways on his own bed, propped on an elbow, staring at his badge like it owed him money.
Cyn sat cross-legged in the center bed, chewing on a snack stick and tapping her badge like she was scrolling through a stubborn interface.
"You guys figure out how to change the damn display color?" she asked, squinting at her screen. "This light mode's frying my eyeballs."
"Swipe left, then tap the edge twice," John said without looking up. "Then blink once."
Cyn blinked. The screen flickered… and stayed the same.
"Didn't work."
John shrugged. "Worked for me."
Sion grunted. "It is probably your eyes... they are too... ringy."
"Shut up, Fangface."
A beat passed.
Then a ding echoed softly from all three badges.
New message.
Sion tapped the interface. A line of text scrolled across the panel.
[NOTICE: Personal Comms Device has been returned to your Storage Space.]
Sion blinked. "Huh."
He sent a mental impulse into his badge.
A light blinked—and a sleek band slid out of a spatial ripple above his palm.
It was slim, black, fitted with glowing runes along the edge. The surface flickered and came to life, projecting a blue arc of light in the air.
Cyn whistled. "Man, I missed this thing."
She already had hers on her wrist. With a tap, the band synced to her badge and displayed her old interface—apps, comms, even a mood tracker.
"Didn't realize how much I depended on this junk," she said, voice softer.
John strapped his on. "Can't still believe they were locked up because they were worried we would cheat with them. How is that even possible?"
Sion synced his quietly, watching as the badge's HUD integrated with the Comm's interface. The display shifted to a cleaner, more familiar look.
"It's smoother," he muttered. "Better than before."
"They probably upgraded them while we were playing survival horror," Cyn said.
"Yeah," John nodded. "Academy's tech is nuts. My brother said their badge system alone is above royal army grade."
Cyn perked. "Didn't they also say the Academy has the fastest aircraft in the kingdom?"
"And inter-kingdom teleportation gates," John added. "Stuff that's supposed to be 'experimental'—they have it locked behind wards and towers."
"No wonder no one messes with them," Sion said.
"The Kingdom funds them, but no one dares question them."
"Not even the royal family," John said, tapping his badge again.
For a few moments, silence returned.
Then—
Another ding.
All three looked up.
[NOTICE: First Semester Lectures Begin in 7 Days.]
[Until then, you are free to explore the Academy. Use caution.]
Cyn groaned dramatically. "A whole week of nothing? I don't do well with boredom."
John stretched. "I do. Might sleep through it."
Sion's lips curved into a small smile.
He glanced at the glowing badge still synced with his Comm, then at the ceiling.
A week.
Just more than enough time to adjust to the new norm.
A few minutes passed.
John sat up on his bed, frown etched deep. His eyes flicked between Cyn—still glued to her comms display—and Sion, who looked suspiciously comfortable for someone who'd only moved in hours ago.
"Don't you guys eat?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"I do."
"Sometimes."
Their replies came in stereo.
John blinked. "Okay... but aren't you hungry? Personally, I'm starving."
"Hm." Cyn merely nodded, her eyes never leaving the projection.
"I've got snacks and homemade meals," Sion mumbled from his side of the bed, still half-asleep.
John's head perked up. "Oh? Well, let's dig in then—share the wealth, brother."
"Why?" Sion muttered, not moving an inch.
"What?!"
"They're my food. Specially made for me. Why would I share them?"
John gasped like he'd been stabbed. "That's not how roommates work! And what kind of superhero doesn't share his stash?"
"The stingy kind."
Sion rolled over, clearly ending the conversation.
"Tch." John scoffed, falling dramatically onto his pillow.
"Hey," Cyn chimed in. "Apparently there's a dining hall at the ground floor. Should be open now."
John perked. "Nice—is it free?"
"Nope. Gotta use coins."
John sighed. Then, with a smirk, turned to Sion. "Well then. You're treating."
"You just want to eat out of my wealth," Sion said flatly. "You're a gold digger."
"Yup." John didn't even flinch.
Sion groaned into his pillow.
But then pushed up from the bed, stretching. "Alright. Since this superhero is apparently so wealthy, I'll treat you both."
He glanced at Cyn. "You coming?"
She finally looked up from her display, smirking. "I don't turn down free food."
"Of course you don't," John muttered.
Soon, they the trio were walking down the hallway, pleasant, gleeful smile on their faces.
The kitchen hall of Beast King's House wasn't as grand as the entrance or the rooms—but it was clean, well-lit, and smelled faintly of herbs and roasted meat. A long, curved counter stood at the center like a market stall, with runic panels displaying rotating menus above.
A few students sat scattered around the room, some quietly eating, others chatting in low tones. No staff in sight—only a silent automaton behind the counter, shaped like a humanoid golem, its core glowing faintly blue.
"Welcome to the Edge Dining Wing," it droned as the trio stepped up. "Order via badge. Coin will be deducted upon confirmation."
John stepped up first, eyes scanning the holographic menu like a man reborn.
"Oh hell yes," he grinned. "We got spice lamb skewers, blast rice balls, honey-drenched root roast—damn, they even got monster meat curry."
He went all in.
Skewers, curry, fruit tea, crispy rolls, roasted grain bread… The list kept going.
Cyn leaned in to watch his growing order with raised brows. "Planning to feed a battalion?"
John glanced at her. "My hunger is a battalion."
She shook her head, then tapped her badge gently. Her menu blinked to life.
"I'll just get the corn dumplings and a heatberry soda."
She glanced over at Sion, who hadn't moved.
He stepped forward, yawned, then tapped in a single order.
"Water," he said.
Cyn blinked. "That's it?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You're paying and you're not even eating?" John asked with a mouth already watering.
"I didn't say I was wise. I said I was a superhero."
Cyn smirked. "Same thing, apparently."
"Exactly," Sion said with a smirk, then walked over to a corner table.
The trio sat, their meals appearing moments later on silver trays, delivered by a humanoid golem.
John immediately tore into his with wild glee.
Cyn took her time, savoring the aroma before tasting.
Sion sipped his water, eyes watching the faint glow from his badge as it floated beside the table.
"So," John said with his mouth full, "you think they got a rule on over-ordering?"
"There are no rules," Cyn replied dryly.
"Right. This school's wild."
Just then—
A familiar scent—soft, floral, and sharp enough to cut through the steam of roasted spices—drifted across Sion's senses.
He blinked, looked toward the entrance.
And there she was.
Dara.
Long pink hair flowed down her back like silk in motion. She wore a simple black dress that swayed lightly with her steps, no embellishments—just elegance, wrapped in stillness.
Her eyes wandered through the room, vacant at first.
Then they found him.
Their gazes locked across the space.
A soft smile touched her lips—not forced, not bright. Just… real.
She started walking.
John had noticed her the moment she stepped in.
He nudged Sion instinctively—then paused, seeing she was already coming their way.
His posture straightened. Casual turned composed. He lowered his fork like someone rehearsing etiquette and pretended to examine his plate like it held national secrets.
"Sup," Dara said as she reached the table, her voice a low breeze only meant for Sion.
Sion tilted his head slightly. "Hey."
Cyn raised a brow, glancing between them. She sipped her drink without comment.
John, meanwhile, was busy pretending he hadn't mentally ranked Dara a solid eleven.
Dara glanced at the two unfamiliar faces at the table.
Sion picked up on it.
He pointed lazily with a finger. "Cyn. John."
Cyn gave a lazy salute. "Yo."
John nodded, suddenly modest. "Nice to meet you."
Dara nodded politely to both, then turned her full attention back to Sion. "You free?"
Sion leaned back in his seat. "Always."
"I was thinking," she said, "since we've got a week off…"
A beat.
"...what about we do a little tour of the outer edge?"
Sion blinked once.
"Hmm, that makes sense. Want to go now?"
"Now? It is quite dark." Dara gestured to the surrounding.
"Sorry, I can't really tell." Sion scratched his head as he pointed at his eyes.
Dara chuckled slightly, "anyways, see you tomorrow."
"Yep, it is a date."
Dara paused slightly.
Then she smiled.
"A date it is."