The late-summer sun hung low over Drake University, turning the old stone buildings amber.
Freshmen poured through the gates carrying overstuffed suitcases, cardboard boxes, backpacks, and the occasional piece of furniture that had clearly been brought from home. Parents hovered nearby with last-minute instructions.
Volunteers in crimson shirts pointed people toward residence halls while golf carts crawled between the crowds.
Somewhere near the student centre, music played loud enough to compete with the noise.
For most students, it was the beginning of university.
For Corvin Kovač, it was the beginning of a plan.
He walked through the crowd at an even pace, his attention moving constantly.
Engineering buildings.
Residence halls.
Library.
Medical centre.
Main road.
He didn't stare at anything for long. He simply noted it and moved on.
Useful information was rarely wasted.
Corvin had come to Drake to study mechanical engineering. He had always preferred things that could be understood. Machines followed principles. Structures had limits. Problems could usually be reduced to smaller problems until an answer appeared.
People were less cooperative.
His phone buzzed.
Mum: Did you find your residence hall?
Corvin glanced at the message.
Corvin: Working on it.
A second message arrived almost immediately.
Mum: And don't spend your first night taking something apart.
He stared at it. Then slipped the phone back into his pocket.
That seemed unnecessarily specific.
Ahead, a sign directed freshmen toward the Dorm Assignment Office.
Corvin followed it.
---
Inside, organised chaos reigned.
Students crowded around reception desks while university staff searched through databases, handed out keys, answered questions, and repeatedly pointed people toward the same map.
Corvin joined the shortest queue.
When his turn came, the receptionist smiled.
"Name?"
"Corvin Kovač."
Her fingers moved across the keyboard.
"Found you."
She slid a cream-coloured envelope across the desk.
"Welcome to Drake University."
Inside were his student identification card, a campus map, and a brass key attached to a polished wooden tag.
Favilla Hall — Room 402.
Corvin turned the key over once.
"Thank you."
He stepped aside and unfolded the campus map.
"Next!"
"Aisha Mercer!"
The name carried across the room.
Corvin glanced up.
A young woman approached the desk carrying a large sports duffel over one shoulder. She moved with the easy confidence of someone accustomed to physical training, barely seeming to notice the weight.
"Hi!" she said.
The receptionist smiled.
"Welcome. You're in Favilla Hall."
Aisha opened the envelope before the receptionist had even finished speaking.
"Room 403."
She grinned.
"Nice."
She turned toward the exit.
Then stopped.
A quiet young man stood nearby, studying his map as though it were a military operation.
"You going to Favilla Hall too?"
Corvin looked up.
"Yes."
She lifted her key.
"Same."
He glanced at the wooden tag.
"Room 402."
Aisha checked hers again.
"403."
She laughed.
"Guess we're neighbours."
"It appears so."
Aisha waited.
Corvin looked back at his map.
She stared at him for another second.
"...You're not much of a talker, are you?"
"I speak when there's something to say."
Aisha laughed.
"Okay. I like you already."
Corvin wasn't entirely sure whether that was a compliment.
They left the office together.
---
The walk to Favilla Hall took them through the older section of campus.
Drake was larger than Aisha had expected. Modern laboratories stood beside century-old buildings, while broad lawns stretched between them beneath towering oaks.
Students were everywhere.
Someone was struggling with a mini-fridge.
Someone else was attempting to carry three boxes at once.
A guitar case disappeared through the doors of a residence hall.
Aisha looked around.
"This place is huge."
"One hundred and sixty acres."
She turned.
"You actually know that?"
"Yes."
"You read the brochure?"
"Yes."
Aisha shook her head.
"Of course you did."
Corvin glanced at her duffel.
"Sports?"
"Sports Science."
"That explains the bag."
She looked down.
"This?"
She lifted it slightly.
"It's mostly clothes."
Corvin gave her a doubtful look.
"Mostly?"
Aisha smiled.
"Maybe a volleyball."
"Maybe?"
"Okay, definitely a volleyball."
For the first time, Corvin smiled.
Barely. But she noticed.
"Was that a smile?"
"No."
"That was absolutely a smile."
"It wasn't."
Aisha laughed and kept walking.
---
Favilla Hall stood at the edge of the older section of campus.
Its original structure was built from weathered grey stone, with ivy climbing between tall arched windows. Modern glass corridors had been attached to either side without disturbing the original design.
It looked less like a dormitory and more like an old estate that had reluctantly agreed to become one.
Aisha slowed.
"Okay."
She looked up.
"That's actually pretty cool."
Corvin studied the building.
"The renovation was done well."
"You say that like you've inspected it."
"I noticed the support columns."
"Of course you did."
The automatic doors opened.
Inside, polished wooden floors reflected the warm ceiling lights. Exposed stone walls preserved the building's age, while modern electrical fixtures and security systems reminded visitors that it was very much a university residence.
A broad staircase rose through the centre of the lobby.
Aisha looked around.
"No elevator?"
"There is one," a nearby resident assistant said, "but everyone's using it today. Stairs are faster."
Aisha adjusted her bag.
"Stairs it is."
Corvin followed.
---
The fourth floor was quieter.
Most of the noise from the lobby had disappeared behind them, replaced by the scrape of luggage wheels and distant voices.
Oak doors lined the corridor.
401.
402.
403.
Aisha stopped outside her room.
"So this is home."
"Apparently."
Before either could unlock their door, footsteps approached from the opposite direction.
A freshman rounded the corner carrying a single travel bag.
He was slightly taller than both of them, with chestnut-brown hair and an easy smile.
He looked at the three doors then at them.
"Please tell me we're all on the same floor."
Aisha pointed at her key.
"403."
Corvin held up his.
"402."
The stranger smiled.
"Excellent."
He set down his bag and offered his hand.
"Marco Montelli. Psychology."
Corvin shook it.
"Corvin Kovač. Engineering."
"Aisha Mercer. Sports Science."
Marco's smile widened.
"Looks like we're neighbours."
Aisha studied his face.
Something clicked.
"Wait."
Marco raised an eyebrow.
"You look familiar."
"Hopefully for a good reason."
She stared for another moment.
Then her eyes widened.
"Oh."
She pointed at him.
"You're that Marco Montelli."
Marco's expression became resigned.
"I was afraid you'd say that."
"The Montelli family?"
He nodded.
"My family."
Aisha looked at Corvin.
"They're from Italy. They own one of the biggest liquor businesses there. And three legal casinos."
Marco sighed.
"When you say it like that, it sounds worse."
"Is it supposed to sound better?"
He laughed.
"Fair point."
Aisha folded her arms.
"Well, remind me never to get on your bad side."
"You won't have to."
"That's exactly what a mafia kid would say."
Marco's eyebrows rose.
"Technically, my family insists we're a perfectly respectable business family."
Aisha grinned.
"Technically?"
"Long story."
Even Corvin smiled.
Marco noticed.
His handshake had been firm, but not aggressive. His posture was relaxed. He answered quickly without oversharing.
And he was watching.
Not obviously.
Just enough.
Corvin had noticed it too.
Their eyes met.
For half a second, neither said anything.
He's watching me.
The thought crossed Corvin's mind.
Across from him, Marco had reached almost exactly the same conclusion.
Aisha looked between them.
"Okay."
Neither responded.
She pointed at both.
"Whatever weird thing is happening right now?"
Marco blinked innocently.
"What weird thing?"
"That."
"What?"
"Exactly that."
Corvin glanced away.
"I don't believe anything is happening."
Aisha narrowed her eyes.
"You're both strange."
Marco laughed.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
He picked up his bag and pointed down the corridor.
"My room's 406."
"Convenient," Corvin said.
Marco smiled.
"Very."
---
Inside Room 402, Corvin stood still for several seconds.
He looked at the bed.
Then the wardrobe.
Then the desk.
Then back at the bed.
"Single."
A quiet breath escaped him.
"Excellent."
His phone buzzed again.
Mum: Roommate?
Corvin took a photograph of the empty room.
Corvin: None.
Three dots appeared.
Mum:Try to make friends.
Corvin looked at the message.
Then at his collection of tools still packed inside two suitcases.
He had brought a soldering station, multimeter, oscilloscope, precision tools, circuit boards, wires, gears, bolts, screws and enough components to turn a dorm room into a small workshop.
He typed:
Corvin: I'll try.
Then he unpacked.
Within an hour, the room had changed.
Clothes occupied the wardrobe.
Textbooks filled the shelves.
Tools were arranged across the desk according to size and function.
Corvin placed a small circuit board beside his laptop.
He stepped back.
Better.
The room was still unfamiliar, but at least it was organised.
He sat down and looked through the window.
Students crossed the lawn below, laughing, carrying boxes, calling out to friends they had known for perhaps three hours.
Corvin watched them.
People really did connect quickly.
He wondered if that was something he would ever become good at.
A sudden shout broke the thought.
"Stop!"
Corvin looked up.
Another voice followed.
"Leave me alone."
He stood.
The corridor outside was empty.
The voices came from near the stairwell.
Corvin walked toward them.
A young woman stood near the wall.
Long blonde hair.
Calm blue eyes.
A freshman stood several feet in front of her.
"Come on," he said. "I'm just trying to get to know you."
"I've already told you I'm not interested."
She didn't raise her voice.
The student shifted closer.
"You don't have to be rude."
Astrid's expression tightened.
"I'm not being rude. I'm asking you to leave."
Corvin stopped at the edge of the corridor.
The student glanced around.
"Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
"I'm not."
Astrid took another step toward the wall, putting a little more distance between them.
"I've said no twice."
That was when another door opened.
Aisha stepped into the corridor.
"What happened?"
The student looked over.
"Nothing."
Astrid answered before Aisha could.
"He's bothering me."
Aisha's expression hardened.
She looked at the student.
"She told you to leave."
"I was just talking to her."
"Then talk to someone who wants to talk to you."
He scoffed.
"Mind your own business."
Aisha glanced at Astrid.
Then back at him.
"She made it my business."
The student looked between them.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then he muttered something under his breath and headed toward the stairs.
Aisha watched until he disappeared.
Then turned back.
"You okay?"
Astrid nodded.
"Yeah."
She exhaled, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.
"Sorry you had to deal with that."
Aisha shrugged.
"You didn't ask me to."
"No."
Astrid smiled faintly.
"But thank you anyway."
She looked toward Corvin.
"And you."
Corvin raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't do anything."
"You stayed."
He didn't have an answer for that.
Astrid looked down the corridor.
"I was actually looking for everyone."
She pointed toward Room 408.
"A few of us are getting together tonight. Nothing big. Just snacks, drinks, introductions."
She hesitated.
"You're both welcome to come."
Aisha smiled.
"Sure."
Astrid looked at Corvin.
He considered the invitation.
He wasn't particularly interested in crowded rooms.
Still...
"All right."
Astrid smiled.
"Great. Fifteen minutes."
She started toward her room.
Then paused.
"Oh—and I'm Astrid."
She gave them a small wave.
"Room 405."
"Aisha."
"Corvin."
Astrid smiled.
"Nice to meet you."
She disappeared through her door.
Aisha watched it close.
"She's nice."
"Yes."
"You sound surprised."
"I am."
Aisha grinned.
"See? You're learning."
---
Fifteen minutes later, Corvin stepped out of Room 402 wearing a black shirt and dark jeans.
At almost the exact same moment, Aisha emerged from 403.
She had changed into a simple black dress and white heels.
Corvin stopped for half a second.
Aisha noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You looked surprised."
"I was."
"By what?"
"I expected something more practical."
She looked down at herself.
Then back at him.
"First impressions."
Corvin nodded.
"Reasonable."
Aisha smiled.
"Don't get used to it."
They walked toward Room 408 together.
---
The room was already filling up.
Being on the corner of the building, Room 208 was noticeably larger than the others. Two tall windows overlooked different parts of campus, and the furniture had been pushed aside to create an open space.
Bowls of crisps, biscuits, and sweets covered one table.
Several bottles of soft drinks stood in ice.
Someone had connected a phone to a portable speaker.
Marco was talking to a group near one of the windows.
Astrid sat beside him.
She noticed Corvin and Aisha immediately.
"There you are!"
Marco turned.
"Perfect timing."
Aisha stepped inside.
"Looks like everyone's here."
"Not quite."
A voice came from the hallway.
Then the door burst open.
"Emergency delivery!"
A young woman stumbled inside carrying two enormous bags.
One nearly slipped from her hand.
She caught it against her hip.
"Ha!"
She looked around proudly.
"Victory."
Aisha laughed.
The newcomer blinked.
"...Why is everyone staring?"
She set the bags down.
Then climbed onto a chair.
Corvin raised an eyebrow.
Marco covered a smile.
The girl placed a hand over her heart.
"Ladies, Gentlemen, and Fellow Victims of HIGHER EDUCATION!"
The room went quiet.
"My name is Priya Satsangi."
She bowed dramatically.
"Acting and theatre student, proud resident of Room 208, emergency snack provider..."
She gestured toward the bags.
"...and apparently the only person here who understood that university students cannot survive without refreshments."
Someone laughed.
Priya pointed at them.
"Excellent. We have life."
She hopped down from the chair.
"I have three rules."
She raised one finger.
"Eat the snacks."
A second.
"Drink something before somebody steals your favourite."
A third.
"And if we're all going to live on the same floor..."
She looked around the room.
"...we might as well get along."
The room broke into laughter.
Priya grinned.
"Perfect."
She grabbed a bottle from the table.
"Now, introductions!"
Aisha leaned toward Corvin.
"I like her."
Corvin watched Priya move through the room, introducing herself to people without hesitation.
"She's certainly difficult to ignore."
Marco laughed.
"That's Priya."
Priya suddenly pointed across the room.
"You two!"
Corvin looked behind himself.
There was nobody there.
She pointed again.
"Yes, you."
She meant him.
"Come here."
Corvin looked at Aisha.
Aisha was already laughing.
"I think you're being summoned."
Corvin sighed and walked over.
Priya smiled brightly.
"What's your name?"
"Corvin."
"Major?"
"Engineering."
She nodded solemnly.
"Excellent. We have a future person who can fix things."
Corvin glanced at the collection of snacks.
"I haven't agreed to that."
"You will."
She turned toward Aisha.
"And you?"
"Aisha. Sports Science."
Priya's eyes widened.
"Oh, good. Someone who can keep us alive when Corvin inevitably breaks something."
"I don't break things."
Aisha laughed.
"That's debatable."
Marco watched them from across the room.
Astrid smiled.
Corvin glanced toward the window.
Outside, the last light of evening was fading from the campus.
The trees shifted gently in the breeze.
Somewhere far beyond Drake University, beneath kilometres of rock, pressure was building.
Nobody in Room 208 knew enough to notice.