Their footsteps echoed through the ornate hallway until they reached a door that seemed almost disappointingly ordinary—the kind you'd expect to find in any apartment building, not a magical academy.
Vespera stepped forward, her confident stride carrying her to the threshold where she delivered three quick, precise knocks. The door creaked open just enough to reveal a sliver of warmly lit interior.
"Who's there?" A melodious voice drifted through the gap.
"It's Vespa," she replied, her usual sultry tone softening with familiarity. "Merlin sent word ahead about some reports. And—" she gestured over her shoulder with a casual thumb toward the three boys, "—I'm going to need some OSAIs for our newest kiddies."
The door opened wider, revealing a young woman with an air of cultivated refinement. Brittany pressed her fingertips to her lips in a gesture of delighted surprise, her eyes twinkling with interest. "Oh my, what adorable little things they are!" She smiled warmly at the boys before adding, "Let me fetch those OSAIs for you."
The door clicked shut, only to swing open moments later. Brittany extended her hand, revealing three emblems identical to the one Vespera had used earlier to communicate with Graves. Each caught the light differently, as if responding to its future owner's presence.
Vespera distributed the emblems among the boys with surprising reverence. "These are your OSAIs—Omniscient Sentient Artificial Intelligence." Her lips quirked in a half-smile. "Though 'omniscient' might be overselling it a bit. Think of it more as having a very knowledgeable librarian in your pocket, one who has read every book in existence but might need a moment to find the right reference."
She tapped her own emblem demonstratively. "Ask it anything, and it'll answer to the best of its considerable abilities." Her gaze shifted to Brittany, who was still watching from the doorway with an encouraging smile. "And if you need any help settling into your dorms, Brittany here is your go-to person. She's the Resident Advisor for first-year students."
Brittany offered a cheerful wave, her whole demeanor radiating the kind of welcoming warmth that seemed designed to put nervous new students at ease. "Don't hesitate to ask for help," she added, her voice carrying the practiced patience of someone who had guided many lost souls through their first days at the academy.
Alex turned the emblem over in his hands, feeling its subtle warmth against his palm.
"The OSAIs serve another purpose," Vespera continued, her voice taking on an instructional tone. "They're also the keys to your new home." She gestured to Brittany's door with an elegant flourish.
"Your rooms share a common living space, but each of you will have your own private sanctuary for sleep and study. To access them—" she tapped one of the emblems, "—simply knock on this door while focusing on the thought of your room. The OSAI will do the rest."
She stepped back, her form beginning to shimmer like sunlight on water. "I'll leave you to settle in. Remember what Merlin said—fall semester begins in two weeks, orientation at 9 AM sharp. Make sure to familiarize yourselves with your OSAIs before then." With a final playful wink, Vespera's form dissolved into pure light, scattering like stardust in a gentle breeze.
The boys barely flinched at her supernatural exit—after everything they'd seen today, people disappearing into light seemed almost mundane. They turned to Brittany, who watched them with understanding eyes.
"Well!" she chirped, "Vespera's taken good care of you, I can see. You must be exhausted—dimensional travel does that to newcomers." She began closing the door but paused. "Oh, and don't worry about privacy. We learned that lesson about 1500 years ago—had to change quite a few rules." She gave a knowing smile. "Your rooms are completely secure. No prying eyes or ears, magical or otherwise."
As Brittany's door clicked shut, Alex held up his emblem for closer inspection. In his palm, the artifact revealed intricate details he hadn't noticed before: a skull with mismatched eyes—one blue as a summer sky, the other a deep, mystical purple. Flanking the skull were two wings: one pristine and angelic, the other twisted and demonic, as if representing the balance between light and dark magic. A delicate chain attached to the top suggested it was meant to be worn around the neck.
The emblem's edges appeared metallic but felt organic to the touch, like ancient wood that had somehow been transformed into metal while retaining its natural warmth. As Alex ran his finger along its surface, he could have sworn he felt a faint pulse, as if the emblem itself was alive, waiting to share its secrets.
'Just when I think this place can't get any stranger,' Alex thought, slipping the chain around his neck. The emblem settled against his chest with a weight that felt oddly comforting, like it had always belonged there.
"It kind of looks like something out of Pirates of the Caribbean," Alex mused, running his thumb over the emblem's surface.
"Should we... check out our room?" Randy's voice coming off unease.
"Yeah," Alex nodded. "Yeah, we probably should."
Max, ever the bold one, stepped forward with his emblem clutched tight. "Um," he cleared his throat, speaking his thoughts aloud like a charm against failure, "knock knock. Please take me to my dorm room. Thanks?"
The door responded with a gentle click, reminiscent of Vespera's earlier knock. Max's hand trembled slightly as he turned the knob, revealing what could only be described as a penthouse living room straight out of a fantasy novel.
The air itself seemed to welcome them, carrying the soothing scent of old books and fresh parchment—a scholarly atmosphere that whispered of late-night studies and ancient knowledge. Plush couches and armchairs were arranged with careful precision around a grand fireplace, each piece positioned to invite conversation or quiet contemplation. Above the mantle, a portrait of Merlin gazed down at them, his painted form adorned in sagely robes decorated with mysterious medallions that seemed to catch non-existent light.
The three then collapsed onto the nearest couch, their bodies finally surrendering to the day's exhaustion. The leather cushions embraced them like old friends.
"Man, that was something," Randy breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're telling me." Max's usual bravado cracked. "I thought I was gonna fucking die."
"Me too, Max. Me too." Alex's agreement hung heavy in the air.
Randy massaged his temples, glasses askew. "I mean, seriously—what? All we did was walk to school, and now we're... here?" His voice rose with barely contained hysteria. "This makes no sense. None of this makes any sense."
"That and the fact that the supposed demon that summon us is dead as well." Alex adds
"What do you mean by that?" Max asks
Alex remembering that he didn't get the chance to tell his friends what happen spills the beans.
After telling them a recounting of what happen both Randy and Max tell their thoughts.
"Let me get this straight," Max said, sprawled across the weathered leather couch. "That thing you saw when Graves took you into the air is a demon that summon us from earth and it's the size of 6 stories?"
"As far as I know that's right." Alex adds.
"Holy moly this world ain't real." Randy sighs.
Feeling the weight of their situation pressed down like a physical force. The life they knew—homework and video games, family dinners and weekend plans—felt like a distant dream. In its place: demons torn from nightmares, magic that defied physics, and an AI that supposedly knew everything. Their minds reeled at the edge of a dark precipice, teetering between acceptance and breakdown.
However before those thoughts could spiral into the abyss, a gentle coolness swept through the room—like the first breath of an air conditioner on a sweltering day. The sensation wasn't just physical; it seemed to touch their very thoughts, soothing the jagged edges of panic and fear. The crushing weight of their situation—the loved ones left behind, the strange new world around them, the terrifying solitude of having only each other—began to ease.
Alex felt his racing heart slow, his breathing steady. The coolness carried a message without words: they weren't alone, not really. Whatever this place was, whatever challenges lay ahead, at least they had each other. For now, maybe that would have to be enough.
The emblem against his chest pulsed once, gentle and reassuring, as if in agreement.
The coolness in the air seemed to deepen, carrying with it the gentle weight of enchanted slumber. Like waves lapping at a shoreline, sleep crept over the boys with inexorable patience. They fought it at first, their minds still burning with questions, still trying to process the impossible day—but magic has its own way of healing, and sometimes that healing comes in the form of rest.
Their eyes grew heavy, consciousness slipping away like sand through fingers. Randy's glasses slid slightly askew, Max's usually animated face softened, and Alex's tense shoulders finally relaxed. The room itself seemed to dim in response, the magical atmosphere wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. Soon, only the soft rhythm of their breathing disturbed the silence, three survivors of an impossible day finally finding peace in dreams.
Meanwhile, in Merlin's office, the air had grown thick with tension. The warm, welcoming atmosphere that had greeted the boys earlier had vanished, replaced by something heavier, more ancient. Shadows deepened in the corners as two figures sat where Alex and Randy had been, their presence somehow making those ordinary chairs look like thrones of judgment.
Merlin's weathered fingers stroked his beard, the gesture more nervous tic than contemplation.
"And you've confirmed they're Daywalkers?" The man voice carried the weight of centuries, each word measured against two millennia of vigilance.
The shadow of anxiety that crossed his companion's face spoke volumes before they even answered. "We're screwed, Merlin. We're absolutely screwed." The words fell like stones into still water. "Erebuzal has found a way to connect to his body. He's reaching across the divide."
"Precisely." Merlin's finger dug deeper into his beard. "And our options for prevention are... limited."
A bitter laugh cut through the office. "Limited? Oh yes, because our preventive measures have worked so well these past two thousand years, haven't they?" The sarcasm dripped like venom. "What have we been doing all this time? What have you been doing? We've scoured every inch of this realm looking for weak points, and meanwhile, the ritual happens right under our noses in our own territory."
The accusation hung in the air like smoke. "You're supposed to be the strongest human magic user alive, Merlin. How did we miss this?"
The man rose from his chair, his broad shoulders and middle-aged features radiating an aura that rivaled Graves's intimidating presence. But what happened next made even that impressive display seem pale in comparison.
Merlin's eyes, which had been softly contemplating the window behind his desk, suddenly snapped to the man with predatory sharpness. The change was instant and terrifying—gone was the kindly headmaster who had welcomed three lost boys. In his place stood something ancient and terrible, a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms.
"Need I remind you why I am the strongest human, Lance?"
The words cut through the air like a blade of ice. The aura that emanated from Merlin now was nothing like the gentle wisdom he had shown earlier—this was the presence of a battlefield veteran, a master of arts so profound they bordered on the divine. The very shadows in the room seemed to retreat from his gaze.
Lance, despite his own considerable presence, sank back into his chair as if pushed by an invisible hand. "My apologies," he managed, his voice tight. "I got... emotional. But it doesn't change the fact that it happened right under our noses." He paused, swallowing hard. "And we both know there's only one way this could have happened."
Merlin's frown deepened, carved lines of ancient worry etching deeper into his face. "Yes," he said softly, the terrible power in his voice giving way to something closer to grief. "Though I hate to think that's the answer."
"Me too, Merlin. Me too."
Merlin nodded grimly before turning to address the other occupant of the room—a shorter, slighter man whose skin held an unsettling grayish cast, as if he were more shadow than substance. "You believe you can locate the other ritual sites?"
The gray man nodded, his movement almost liquid in its fluidity.
"Then may fortune favor your hunt," Merlin intoned. The blessing carried weight, and the gray man simply melted into his chair, becoming one with the shadows and vanishing from sight.
Lance shifted in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. "So what's the plan, Merlin? What do we do with the Daywalkers?"
Rising from his chair with deliberate grace, Merlin approached his bookshelf and withdrew the same tome he had shown the boys. "I plan to do exactly as I said, Lance. They will enroll in the Academy, and I shall teach them as I have taught countless warriors before." His fingers traced the book's worn spine. "If they truly possess something special, we shall nurture it through merit, as we always have."
"Sounds good to me," Lance conceded, though tension still lined his face. "I just hope the Ten Families feel the same way."
"As do I, Lance." Merlin's gaze drifted to the window again, where darkness had begun to gather like storm clouds on the horizon. "As do I."