?While Marcus’s group recovered, a signal flared—another team had cleared the gate. A trio of applicants descended the stairs with an air of practiced elegance, led by Alissa. Following her was Cassian Valerius. His jet-black hair was cropped in a sharp, semi-formal cut, bangs swept slightly to the side. His eyes, the color of cold steel, were as sharp as the knight’s uniform he wore—an immaculate suit of armor representing the high-caste warrior houses of Vakus.

  ?Cassian’s gaze flickered over Marcus’s team with a thin, icy smirk.

  ?"Has Aurelius fallen so low that it permits those carrying 'defective cargo' to stand among us?" he murmured. The words were quiet, yet they resonated through the silent plaza.

  ?"The hell did you say!" Ethan snapped, bolting to his feet. His warrior blood hit a boiling point. He stepped into Cassian’s space. "This guy is on my team. I don't care what manor you crawled out of—you don’t get to talk down to him. Only I get to call him names!"

  ?Flash.

  ?In a blur of motion, Cassian’s knight-sword was out. The tip of the blade hovered millimeters from Ethan’s throat. Ethan froze, the chilling touch of the steel biting into his skin. Cassian’s eyes held nothing but disdain.

  ?"Sit back down... you cast-off cur of the Clostil house," Cassian lowered his voice to a dangerous rasp. "The mere fact that your family name was scrubbed from the Hall of Honor makes your blood too filthy to stain my blade."

  ?"You...!" Ethan’s teeth ground together as the red crystal in his pocket began to pulse with heat.

  ?"Ethan! Stop!" Vanessa’s hand clamped onto his shoulder. Her gaze was steady, lethal in its calm. "Don’t waste your energy. Anyone who uses a blade to bully isn't worth the breath."

  ?Cassian let out a dry laugh and sheathed his sword in one fluid motion. He followed Alissa without another word, leaving a heavy tension in his wake.

  ?Trailing behind them was Bella Florentine, a daughter of an ancient noble house tied to the Valentines for generations. Her sapphire-blue eyes were unnervingly bright, framed by honey-blonde curls tied with an oversized pastel bow. She skipped after them, her cheeks flushed with a strange, upbeat energy.

  ?"Alissa, wait for Bella!"

  ?Alissa turned to her only confidante, her brow furrowed. "Bella! Where were you? You’re lagging."

  ?Bella giggled, clinging to Alissa’s arm. "Oh, I just stopped to look at something 'beautiful,' Alissa. Don't be mad~"

  ?As she passed, Bella’s eyes flickered toward Marcus. It wasn't a look of disgust, but something unreadable—and unsettling.

  ?Marcus watched her skip around the corner. He inhaled, his nostrils flaring.

  ?"That Bella girl... she smells off," Marcus muttered. "It wasn't that suffocating perfume the other high-castes wear. It was something else."

  ?"Forget it, Marcus. Your nose is probably fried from the exam," Ethan said, rubbing his stomach as it let out a violent growl. "I’m hungry enough to eat a raw Ether crystal. I can smell grilled meat and soup coming from the dorm sector. Let's move!"

  ?Marcus watched Ethan’s sudden shift in priorities and let out a faint, tired laugh. The hunger of a brawler was apparently the best cure for a grudge. Vanessa, however, remained silent. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the empty hallway where the Valentines had vanished.

  ?"Let’s go," Vanessa said. "Before Ethan actually starts hunting the local wildlife."

  ?The Aurelius dining hall was an offensive display of wealth. Marcus stared up at the crystal chandeliers, a cynical smirk tugging at his lips. Is this a cafeteria or a throne room?

  ?They found a long wooden table in a dimly lit corner near a high window. The evening sun stained the hall in a bruised orange. A pile of grilled steaks and potato soup sat before them—mostly courtesy of Ethan’s aggressive serving habits.

  ?"Heaven. Pure heaven," Ethan mumbled through a mouthful of steak. His rage toward Cassian had been successfully buried under layers of protein.

  ?Marcus poked at his potato soup. He didn't have Ethan’s frantic appetite. He stared out the window, watching a bird vanish into the stratosphere.

  ?"So..." Ethan’s pace finally slowed as he hit a plateau. His eyes turned unusually sober. "Marcus... Vanessa... what did your parents say when you left for this place?"

  ?Silence hit the table. Only the clink of silverware remained.

  ?"The Clostil house... my father said this was the final exit vector," Ethan let out a dry laugh, patting the iron plates beside him. "He wants the name back in the Hall of Honor. Doesn't want to be called a 'cast-off' anymore. Personally? I think I’m a better eater than a knight."

  ?He laughed it off, then looked at Marcus. "And you? You're from Dustopia. They can't be happy about you climbing this high."

  ?Marcus moved a crust of bread around his plate. The fire he had for Cassian dimmed into a dull ache as he thought of home.

  ?"I didn't come here for honor, Ethan," Marcus said quietly. "I need capital. Enough to hire a high-caste doctor for my mother’s lungs. Medicine costs more than gold down there, and her cough is getting worse."

  ?He pictured Lisa—the sister who had to grow up too fast.

  ?"I told Lisa to hold the line while I was gone. Aurelius has the highest research grants and student stipends. If I hit the top rankings, I can wire enough back to change their lives. That's the only objective."

  ?Ethan stopped chewing. He reached out and slammed a heavy hand onto Marcus’s shoulder. "Yeah. You’ll do it. Your mom's going to clear up."

  ?Vanessa looked at Marcus, her gaze softening. She didn't speak, but she pushed a small dish of sweets toward him—a silent Oasis-style gesture.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ?"And you, Vanessa? The Lucenna name... I haven't seen it in the peerage records. But you don't act like a commoner."

  ?Vanessa paused. "I don't know much about my house. My family didn't have 'expectations.' They sent me here with one directive: get in. That was it."

  ?"A directive? Sounds like a mission," Ethan scratched his head.

  ?"Doesn't matter," Vanessa cut him off. "At least we survived Day One."

  ?The evening ended with a magical broadcast echoing across the island: students were ordered to report to their dormitories to "claim their space."

  ?Vanessa stood up, adjusting her bag. "I’m heading to the female wing. Don't be late for the license exam tomorrow morning."

  ?Once she was gone, Ethan led Marcus with renewed energy. "Come on, Marcus! Let's find those silk sheets. I’m claiming the window bed!"

  ?However, the 'welcome' was a red magical barrier blocking the dormitory entrance. A digital display flashed an entrance fee that made Marcus’s blood run cold.

  ?"The hell? Why won't it open?" Ethan asked, poking the barrier. "We're students!"

  ?Marcus read the fine print. His face went pale. "Ethan... it says 'Pre-paid Maintenance Fee: One Semester.' You have to clear the balance before the room unlocks."

  ?Ethan went rigid. His hand went to his empty pockets. He turned to Marcus with a hollow look. "I... I spent my last credits on the testing fee."

  ?Marcus rubbed his temples, his heart dropping into his stomach. He had skipped the fine print in the acceptance letter. "Dammit... I didn't account for this."

  ?As they stood like statues, other students tapped their luxury cards and glided through. Alissa Valentine walked past with Cassian and Bella, chin held high.

  ?"Oh look... beggars blocking the door to the 'economy' wing," Alissa noted. "If you can't pay the toll, go sleep in the woods below."

  ?Marcus clenched his fists. The shame burned hotter than the physical backlash of his gun. He wasn't mad at her; he was mad at his own oversight. He had promised Lisa he’d make it.

  ?In the depths of their despair, steady footsteps approached from the shadows of the garden. A lanky young man walked toward them.

  ?He looked like he had intentionally dressed in the dark. His white shirt was missing the top two buttons, revealing a thick neck and a blue crystal hanging from a hemp cord. His dark brown hair was a bird's nest. His amber eyes looked perpetually drowsy, yet held a sharp, unsettling intelligence. His skin wasn't the pale porcelain of the nobles; it held the tan and faint scars of someone who actually worked.

  ?He carried a canvas sleeping bag with patches that Marcus recognized instantly. That was a Dustopian stitch-job.

  ?"You guys look like the world just ended," the newcomer—Roy—said, twirling a dorm card between his fingers. "Door doesn't open for empty pockets."

  ?Marcus eyed him warily. "Who are you?"

  ?"Roy Foster. From Dustopia. Same sector as you, Marcus." Roy stopped twirling the card. "Nobody at home carries a wallet because there’s nothing to put in it. I saw you two standing here looking pathetic for ten minutes."

  ?"Dustopia? You're one of us?" Ethan asked. "But you don't look... stressed."

  ?"Being stressed doesn't fill the stomach," Roy shrugged. "I made some 'commission' money before I left, so I covered my housing. My room is in Building Three. It’s a shared unit."

  ?Roy tapped his card. The red light turned green. The door groaned open.

  ?"Where's your team, Roy?" Marcus asked.

  ?"The two girls on my team ditched me for the female wing," Roy yawned. "A big room is boring alone. I’d rather have you two split the maintenance costs with me later."

  ?Ethan’s eyes lit up. "You're a godsend! Marcus, let’s go. Better than sleeping in the dew!"

  ?Marcus hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks."

  ?As they hauled their gear through the silent hallways, Marcus kept a suspicious eye on Roy.

  ?"Stop looking at me like I'm a spy," Roy muttered, shuffling a deck of cards. "I’ve seen you at home, Marcus. You never saw me because you only look at your work or the path back to your house."

  ?Marcus stopped. "What?"

  ?"Sector Seven, East Side. Near the construction zone," Roy smiled faintly. "I used to deliver documents. Saw you hauling scrap from Bill’s yard every evening. I once bet a friend you were rushing home to a wife. Then I saw you talking to that little girl at the gate. Your sister."

  ?Marcus frowned. "You were tailing me?"

  ?"It was on my route. Dustopia is a small cage, Marcus. And anyone as 'driven' as you stands out among the rest of us just drifting through."

  ?Ethan laughed. "Small world! Home-town roommates! This is going to be great. Why’d you come to Aurelius, Roy? For the money?"

  ?Roy’s eyes went hollow for a second before returning to their usual drowse. "Me? I was bored. Wanted to see if the air up here was actually clean. So far, it just smells like expensive perfume. Makes me want to go back home."

  ?The room was better than Marcus expected. Dark oak walls, a high window overlooking the Stratosphere. But there was one logistical failure: two beds.

  ?"The bed situation..." Marcus started.

  ?"Manage it later," Roy cut him off. "Drop your gear."

  ?Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. While Ethan rambled about the taste of street-meat, Marcus asked the question burning in his mind.

  ?"Roy... how does a guy like you end up with a crystal? In Dustopia, finding one is like finding a needle in a graveyard."

  ?Roy stopped unpacking. He looked at the blue crystal around his neck and smirked. "This? I didn't dig for it. I was playing cards in an alley. Some old drunk lost everything and threw this in as the final pot."

  ?"You won a crystal in a card game?"

  ?"He called it a 'Nameless Stone.' Thought it was a pebble. Then I touched it, it chose me, and the Toll drained me so hard I was out for twenty-four hours. Woke up with an Aurelius letter next to my head. I think I just want to find a higher-stakes poker game up here."

  ?"You're insane," Marcus shook his head.

  ?He looked at the phone on the nightstand. The anxiety about home hit him again. Marcus slowly slid off the bed and dropped to his knees on the cold floor in front of his roommates.

  ?"Whoa! Marcus! What are you doing?" Ethan jumped.

  ?Marcus looked up, his usual hard gaze replaced by desperation. "Either of you... please. Let me use a phone to call my sister. Just for a minute. I need to know if she's handling Mom."

  ?Roy stared at him. The drowsiness vanished, replaced by the silent understanding of someone from the same dirt. He tossed his phone to Marcus without hesitation.

  ?"Take it to the balcony, Marcus. And tell your sister her brother has the best-looking roommate in Aurelius."

  ?Marcus stood on the balcony. The stratosphere wind bit at his face. He dialed.

  ?"Hello? Who is this?" Lisa’s voice was familiar.

  ?Marcus bit his lip. He grinned so hard his cheeks ached, but he stayed silent for a second to tease her.

  ?"Hello? If you don't speak, I'm hanging up!"

  ?Marcus laughed. "It's me, Lisa."

  ?"Marcus! You jerk! I thought it was a scammer!"

  ?"I’m here. How’s the house? How’s Mom?"

  ?"She’s improving. Just a little. She was shocked you left so fast, but I explained the scholarship. She’s happy, Marcus. She’s asleep now. Did you pass?"

  ?Marcus straightened his posture. "Passed with flying colors. And... I’ve got friends already."

  ?"Really? That’s great! You finally found people to talk to!"

  ?"I'll bring back something big for the holidays, I promise."

  ?"I'll hold you to it! Good luck, Marcus!"

  ?He hung up and walked back inside, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in years. But the smile died the second he saw the beds.

  ?Ethan and Roy had already showered. They were in ragged pajamas. The two wooden beds had been pushed together into one giant platform. They were currently squashed together in the center.

  ?"Roy! Stop moving! You're shoving me into the wall!" Ethan grumbled.

  ?"Don't kick, Ethan. If the frame breaks, we can't afford the repair bill," Roy muttered, eyes closed.

  ?"If you didn't sleep like a starfish, I wouldn't kick! Look, Marcus is back and there’s no room!"

  ?Marcus watched them bicker over inches of mattress and shook his head. He handed the phone back to Roy. "Thanks, Roy. And Ethan... if the bed breaks, you're sleeping on the floor alone."

  ?"Harsh, Marcus!"

  ?Marcus grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. The hot water washed away the Dustopia soot and the grime of the journey. He told himself to rest. Tomorrow was the real beginning.

  ?When he emerged, the room was quiet, save for Ethan’s light snoring and Roy curled up with a deck of cards scattered on his pillow. Marcus carefully climbed into the remaining sliver of space on the edge, trying not to wake them.

  ?The first night in Aurelius wasn't luxury. But it held a warmth he hadn't felt back home.

  ?Tomorrow, he thought as his eyes closed. Tomorrow, it gets real.