It was lunchtime at the sprawling, sun-drenched Solaria Beyond Academy.
The main cafeteria sat beneath a soaring glass dome that made it feel like eating inside an enormous greenhouse.
A single ancient, massive tree grew straight through the center of the floor, and tables and benches curved around the trunk in concentric rings.
The food here was genuinely excellent—freshly baked breads, fragrant curries, crisp salads, tender grilled meats—but only the lower-tier students ate in the dome.
Support-class kids, miscellaneous department stragglers, anyone whose blessing ranked low enough that they didn't qualify for better treatment.
The higher-blessed students—the ones the world actually revolved around—never set foot here.
They ate in private campus restaurants with velvet chairs and gold-trimmed menus, or had personal chefs deliver sealed trays straight to their dorms, or simply had family send gourmet packages from home.
