A boy with brown hair and similarly colored eyes walked up to the Academy's gate with a calm, almost blank look on his face.
A face now completely devoid of the scars that were there previously riddling it.
He looked up at the high gates and let out a sigh before looking down at what he was wearing.
According to the old man, inventing something was one thing, the most important part was presentation.
And he'd be damned if he let his greatest creation walk into the Academy's admission test underdressed.
Thus, Conan was wearing am outfit that was both presentable and fit for moving around freely during combat.
It was an outfit similar to Adrian's, a white shirt, black tail coat and black pants with similar colored shoes.
"This still feels surreal," Conan muttered as he placed a hand over his chest, feeling no heartbeat within.
His heart was an organ that had long been scrapped, now powered by something else entirely.
