Perspective: Matteo Romano
Matteo didn't want to go to university.
It wasn't out of disdain — quite the opposite.
He respected knowledge more than any other form of power within the Black Tower.
But his life outside the game was already surrounded by academic corridors, libraries, and complex projects.
He lived and breathed research.
So, when he heard that the new Tower module offered the possibility of "enrolling in a magical university," his first reaction was immediate:
No, thank you.
Inside the game, he wanted something different.
Something that had nothing to do with exams, formulas, or thesis defenses.
But Alessio, of course, knew exactly what to say.
A low blow, in Matteo's opinion.
"They have robots."
That was all it took.
One word — robots — and every ounce of resistance shattered.
Before he knew it, he was walking through the gates of the magical university with a silver badge hanging from his neck and a nearly childlike excitement in his eyes.
Now, a day later, Matteo Romano didn't want to leave.
The place was absurdly beautiful.
Vast halls supported by enchanted columns that looked like they were made of liquid crystal.
Libraries where books floated on their own, gliding toward readers the moment their names were spoken aloud.
Laboratories where runic circles merged with electric circuits, and metallic golems walked side by side with steam automatons.
He had spent hours just watching the machines at work.
The developers behind this game were, without exaggeration, geniuses.
The way they had merged modern engineering with magical theory was so precise, so meticulous, that he almost forgot this was just a game.
In that world, physics and sorcery didn't cancel each other out — they complemented one another.
A propulsion system could be powered by a mana crystal.
A differential equation could determine the trajectory of a long-range spell.
Even the concept of thermal energy had been redefined through elemental manipulation.
More than once, Matteo caught himself smiling while taking mental notes on everything he saw — not only because he wanted to understand it, but because he was genuinely fascinated.
Somewhere between studying gravitational runes and analyzing etherion engine systems, he realized he was no longer playing.
He was learning.
Living a new frontier of knowledge.
If it were up to him, he'd stay there for days, maybe weeks.
And honestly, if allowed, he'd stay even between real-world hours — between life and sleep.
But the Tower never let anyone escape its rhythm.
As he walked through the courtyard of bluish stone, a notification blinked in the corner of his vision:
[Group Message — Alessio Leone]
"Meet at Eldenwall's main portal.
New mission cycle soon."
Matteo stopped.
He stared at the message for a few seconds, as if hoping it would disappear on its own.
But it didn't.
He knew what it meant — the temporary end of his academic journey.
The call of the First Pioneers — the title still gleaming beside his name.
He sighed, closing the grimoire he had been reading.
He didn't want to go.
But he also knew Alessio was right — as always.
The group was only what it was because they stayed together.
Without him, the team wouldn't be complete.
Straightening his back, Matteo adjusted the reinforced leather coat he wore — a cross between an engineer's uniform and a battle mage's attire — and took one last look at the university's golden horizon.
The distant bells echoed across the campus, a deep, elegant tone announcing the end of that cycle's classes.
"See you later, my enchanted robots," he murmured, half amused, half wistful.
Then, with a touch on the system interface, he initiated the teleport sequence.
The walls around him dissolved into blue sparks, and the laboratory faded from sight.
The moment he exited the university sector, Matteo unexpectedly came face-to-face with Cassandra.
She spotted him from afar and, as always, didn't hold back.
"Heeey!" she shouted, waving with exaggerated enthusiasm as she walked toward him.
Matteo tried to maintain composure, but pretending not to see her was impossible.
Cassandra McConnell never went unnoticed — anywhere.
She had that kind of beauty designed for the center of attention.
Long, fiery-red hair cascaded down her back in living waves, catching the golden light of the Tower's artificial sun.
Her amber eyes carried a spark — a mix of confidence and challenge.
And that smile… unmistakable: open, teasing, effortlessly charming.
And Matteo — as much as he tried to deny it — had to admit it:
Cassandra was hot.
And not just in the figurative sense; her mastery over elemental fire made the word literal.
He smiled slightly, trying to hide the thought, as she approached with her usual carefree poise — as if the whole world were just the backdrop to a conversation she'd already won before it began.
"Didn't think I'd see you here, engineer!" she said, flashing that grin that could melt iron.
Matteo drew a slow breath, trying to sound more grounded than he actually was.
He already knew that from this point on, focusing on Alessio's summons would be difficult.
"Heading to the portals…?" he asked casually.
The moment the words left his mouth, Cassandra's expression shifted.
The bright smile vanished, replaced by an exaggerated look of annoyance.
He couldn't help laughing.
"Unfortunately," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
That didn't surprise him.
Cassandra had developed a curious sort of resistance to Alessio from the very beginning — a mix of wounded pride and rebellion against authority.
It wasn't overt, but Matteo had noticed the pattern.
Every time Alessio gave a direct order, Cassandra reacted the same way: a sigh, an impatient look, and occasionally, a pointed remark — just enough to make it clear that she didn't take orders easily.
Matteo found it amusing.
He knew it wasn't hatred — just her nature.
Fire through and through.
And, in a way, it made the team more interesting.
Cassandra brushed a few strands of red hair from her face.
The light from the university's runes reflected off them like glowing embers.
"Come on," she said, her tone bright again. "We might find Eleanor on the way."
Matteo nodded.
"Sure."
Without hesitation, he matched her pace.
He would never argue with Cassandra McConnell.
Not because she was unpredictable — but because, somehow, it was impossible not to be drawn in by that woman made of flame:
brilliant, volatile, and dangerously easy to admire.