(A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don't hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

Power stones people, Gimme it.

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The moment Landon ended the class, the atmosphere in the library shifted. Chairs scraped back, and the twenty students began gathering their belongings. Seris looked mildly overwhelmed. Selene seemed thoughtful. Caelum wore the blank stare of someone already calculating future workload.

Orion simply stood, adjusting his satchel strap over his shoulder before heading toward the exit with the rest.

The rest of the day unfolded in a steady, structured flow.

The Floor 3 lounge was built like the cross between a café, a resting hall, and a small study area. It bustled today; hundreds of first-years sat around circular tables, discussing theories, complaining about assignments, or re-reading introductory material as if preparing for the end of the world.

Orion, Caelum, Seris, and Selene gathered at one of the corner tables.

Seris dropped into her seat dramatically.

"Someone tell me why spatial theory feels like I signed up for a class on the collapse of reality."

"You did," Selene replied calmly. "Spatial manipulation deals with distortions and balance. It's natural."

Caelum stabbed his fork into his meal. "No, no, Landon's eyes are unnatural. They look like a riddle."

"He's interesting," Orion said simply.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.

"…Interesting?" Seris echoed.

Orion shrugged. "He explains clearly. And doesn't waste words."

Selene breathed out a quiet laugh. "That's your definition of interesting?"

"Yes."

"That tracks,"Seris muttered.

Lunch passed quickly. After a brief rest, they checked their bracelets and separated for the afternoon classes.

The classroom for Skill Integration resembled a miniature training arena. Polished floors, wide spacing, and dense mana-resistant walls. The instructor was a middle-aged man with ash-brown hair and a stern, military-styled expression. His name was Instructor Farin.

He spoke with clipped precision.

"In Skill Integration, we refine compatibility. A skill is useless if you cannot merge it with another. A technique is incomplete if it cannot be adapted mid-use."

He demonstrated with simple gestures—mana forming a compressed sphere in one hand, a thin blade-shaped construct in the other—then merging both seamlessly.

"No unnecessary flair," he said. "No reliance on instinct. Efficiency is the goal."

Orion followed along easily, not flaunting anything, just doing what was asked.

He caught Farin's eyes on him once, then twice—evaluating, not impressed nor surprised.

Just taking note.

Introduction to Finance & Monetary Management was next.

Selene alone went to this one. The group didn't see her again until later. Apparently, the instructor was straightforward, strict, and fast-paced—exactly Selene's preferred style. She had pages of notes.

Seris whispered that Selene looked happier here than in any of the other classes.

Their last lecture for the day took place in a dome-shaped hall built from obsidian-dark material. Instructor Hale was tall, broad-shouldered, and surprisingly soft-spoken. His dark blue hair was tied in a low knot, and despite his intimidating build, his tone was gentle.

"Practical sessions will not begin today," Hale announced. "Spatial manipulation is dangerous when executed poorly. Today is assessment only."

The class spent the hour performing harmless, low-level perception tests—feeling for distortions, identifying micro-warp points, measuring alignment shifts in controlled spaces.

Orion didn't struggle, but he didn't show off either.

He passed every test cleanly. Nothing more.

Hale nodded once at him—an acknowledgment, not praise.

And that concluded the first official day of classes.

By the time Orion reached his dorm room, the sky outside had already taken on a soft purple hue. His mind wasn't tired—just dense, laden with new information. It had been ten years since he last attended formal classes. He'd forgotten how taxing structured learning could be.

He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water.

Steam slowly filled the room.

Orion lowered himself into the bathtub, letting the warm water wash over his shoulders. His muscles loosened instantaneously. The fatigue—the mental kind—settled into a manageable weight.

He stayed still for a moment and finally exhaled.

"…A long day."

But not a bad one.

He sank slightly deeper, letting the warmth soak into the tension in his spine.

Ten years.

Ten years since he sat in a classroom.

Ten years since he took structured notes or listened to a lecturer's pacing or performed exercises step by step.

Physical exhaustion never bothered him.

Mental heaviness… was a different thing.

Still, he would adjust. In a few days, his rhythm would settle. Learning wasn't new to him—just the format.

Thirty minutes passed quietly.

Then Orion activated Reflection.

A shift—not visual, not magical, but mental—washed through him.

Suddenly, every moment of the day unfolded with absolute clarity.

Lady Ophelia's voice.

Lyra's frantic energy.

Landon's calm explanations.

The diagrams, the tone shifts, every word spoken, every detail seen—

all returned to him with the sharpness of fresh memory.

Reflection wasn't mana-based.

It was a mental ability.

A perfected recall.

He reviewed everything sequentially, especially Landon's lecture.

Space is a fabric.

Energy bends it.

Time is a dimension.

Nothing is static.

And then a thought drifted into his mind—one that hadn't occurred during class.

His past life.

Spatial concepts from Earth were limited, but not nonexistent.

He had watched documentaries.

Short science clips.

Random physics discussions.

A chuckle escaped him as he remembered a certain mischievous lady questioning and trolling an expert.

He watched.

Not deeply.

Not academically.

But still—Earth had advanced science. Even if the world lacked mana, knowledge was knowledge.

"…It's worth trying."

The idea wasn't hope.

Just curiosity.

Velastra had a thousand years of Chronos research on space.

Expecting Earth to surpass that was… reaching. But even a different perspective could spark something.

Some overlooked angle.

Some missing detail.

Reflection could bridge that gap.

But not tonight.

He shelved the thought for later.

For now, he needed to complete Landon's assignment.

Orion rose from the bathtub, water sliding down his skin.

He dried off, dressed in comfortable indoor clothes, and placed his academy uniform in the laundry basket. The maids of Magnum One would return it cleaned by tomorrow.

He sat at his desk and let the light hologram projection settle.

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