Light burst open like a blooming galaxy.
Elior staggered, his vision swimming as waves of energy swirled around him — then suddenly, solid ground appeared beneath his feet.
They had arrived.
The Core of Astra.
A vast plaza unfolded beneath a radiant sky, where every thread of Ether shimmered like drifting stardust circling the island's heart.
Thousands of students materialized at once, still trembling from the aftershock of teleportation.
In the middle of it all stood Class One — the beginners: Elior, Lucen, Alice, and the rest of the Angel House, staring in awe at the world of light around them.
"By the stars…" Lucen breathed. "This is the energy core of the whole island, isn't it?"
"Careful," Alice whispered. "If you step wrong, you might get pulled straight into the Lumen."
Lucen grinned, though his eyes flickered with unease. "You really know how to make a guy feel better."
From across the plaza, Varzek, Morr, and Kerr of the Infernal House stood with arms crossed, wearing the same sneering arrogance as ever.
Varzek's gaze locked onto Elior — the corner of his mouth curling, as if still savoring yesterday's unfinished fight.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"That's them — the ones who fought Infernal."
"I heard they cracked a warded wall with just one blow."
"No way. They're only first-years."
Elior lowered his head, avoiding every stare.
He knew the rumors were true — but soon, no one would remember.
Not for long.
From the central dais, Headmaster Solomon stepped forward.
His golden robes gleamed like morning sunlight spilling across the plaza.
Behind him sat over twenty professors, each radiating their own distinct energy.
Among them, one stood out — Remiel, the only one with wings.
His silver-white feathers folded neatly behind him, glowing softly like mist in the dawn.
When their eyes met, Elior whispered in his heart:
"Father…"
But he stayed silent. Remiel had warned him — the truth of their bond, like his own unopened wings, must remain hidden.
Solomon raised his hand.
Sound vanished from the plaza, as if swallowed by the air itself.
"Welcome to Astra, where knowledge and light converge," his voice rang clear. "Today, I declare — the new academic year begins."
A shimmer of Ether stirred the air, and the beams of light around them seemed to applaud.
"First," Solomon continued, "let us welcome those who will guide you."
Professor Kael DeayenThe man with dark-silver hair stepped forward, eyes the color of ash and twilight.
"I teach Elementary Dark Matter and Energy," he said, voice low and rough. "And I don't believe in good or evil — only balance."
He raised his hand. A streak of white light twisted into shadow — then reversed, light again.
The plaza fell utterly silent.
Professor Halden MarrA tall, slender old man with a beard like drifting clouds, holding a slowly turning crystal orb.
"Cosmology," he said with a gentle smile, "is the art of listening to the void."
When he waved his hand, thousands of tiny stars bloomed above them — a living map of the moving heavens. The students held their breath in awe.
Professor Elara VynnHer hair blazed crimson like molten copper; her eyes, pale blue and sharp as frost.
"I teach Basic Spellcraft," she said crisply. "And I expect all of you not to blow up my classroom in the first week."
A few students chuckled — until she lifted her hand, summoning a white flame that burned fiercely without heat.
Laughter died instantly.
Professor RemielThe plaza fell still once more.
He rose, his silver eyes without pupils reflecting the souls of every student before him.
"I teach Basic Soul Theory," he said, his voice deep and resonant — a sound that seemed to echo inside one's own thoughts.
"But before we begin… there is something I must do."
Remiel slowly turned his silver staff.
A ring of luminous runes flared beneath his feet.
Then — thok — the staff struck the ground.
"Psyche Fabricata."
Light rippled outward, soft as breath, washing over the crowd.
Students blinked — and the memory of the fight at Infernal House began to fade, dissolving like mist.
Whispers ceased.
Only one man retained the truth — Headmaster Solomon.
He looked toward Remiel, nodding slightly.
"Order must be kept," he murmured. "Whatever it takes."
A chill crept down Elior's spine.
He didn't know whether it was fear — or pity.
On the dais, his father stood unmoving, the staff still glowing faintly in his grasp.
That light was both memory — and chain.
Lucen nudged him. "Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah…" Elior said softly. "It's just… everything here feels too bright."
High above, the Core of Astra blazed blindingly — as if watching them in silence.
And within that brilliance, a strange pulse of Ether quivered —
like something ancient had just awakened.