Clara and Elena, still praising how cool and mature Cadet Elisha was, stepped outside the dining hall.
"Elena! Let's go!"
"Yes, Clara."
They walked to the Academy's private teleportation gate. They swiped their IDs.
VMMMMM.
Light engulfed them.
Usually, this gate would lead to the Marigold Estate or the Scholarship Dorms.
But when the light faded…
They weren't in a mansion. They weren't in a dorm.
They appeared in a dark, damp basement. The air smelled of copper and rot. The floor was etched with intricate patterns drawn not in ink, but in dried blood, grey brain matter, and crushed bone dust.
In the center of the room, a grotesque altar pulsed with faint, corrupt mana.
"Phew… today was fun too," Elena's voice rang out.
But the tone was different. The airy, gentle warmth was gone. It was replaced by a chilling, monotonous calm.
She turned to Clara.
"Right, Lady Clara?"
Clara stood there. The bubbly, energetic girl who had just been laughing about salad was gone.
