Kal made his way over to pick up the syllabus. Judging by the sparse crowd, he grabbed it first—only four others managed to get one too. It looked like most students could either afford the dorm tuition or held special scholarships.
Odd one out again, huh? I guess I'll need to work extra hard on networking this year.
Kal bowed his head and dozed off for a brief nap.
╚══❖═══════❖══╝
-Ding Ding Dong Ding-
The gentle bell echoed through the classroom, rousing him. As he lifted his head, he noticed most students rising and leaving. Before standing up, he fished out his crumpled schedule and scanned it.
"Huh, Glyphs 101 is my second class. It can't be that bad, can it? Though I'm a bit behind the curve, most people already sit at tier 2 dissonant…"
Without wasting time, Kal leaped from his seat and headed outside, finally taking in the vast campus. The school's grandeur screamed big money, and everyone knew the results showed in its ranker and protector programs.
"Alright, building 201, class 306…" Kal repeated the directions, etching them into his memory just as he had in the last class.
They allowed a 15-minute transition—a period most upperclassmen treated like recess. The campus buildings varied wildly in size, structure, and function; many even repeated due to the sheer number of students. Then, he spotted it.
Kal arrived at the front door of the building labeled "Ps Studies and Fundamentals."
Alright, this class can't be that bad, right?
Swinging the door open, harsh fluorescent light struck his eyes and made him wince.
"Hey! Welcome to my class!" a teacher sprang up from her seat, greeting him at the doorway.
Kal jumped back slightly.
Eh, she's, uh, pretty energetic.
"Good morning, ma'am…" he managed.
"Ah! No need for formalities—I'm a student teacher!" Her eyes sparkled.
What teacher sports blonde hair with black and red streaks? Is she 12? I mean, she kind of looks 12, she's short, and I'm only 175.26 cm tall.
Kal chuckled awkwardly. "Your hair is, uh, nice. What's your name again? Sorry, I didn't catch it the first time."
"Thanks! I cut it myself, though I wanted it a bit longer than shoulder length… Oh yeah, my name is Rita! You're, uh…" She paused briefly, then dashed to her desk to check attendance.
"Oh yeah, Kal! My only student…" Rita announced, her hazel eyes fixed on the monitor.
"Erg! Only student? What do you mean 'only student'?" Kal asked.
"Well, turns out 'others' aren't very popular on Earth…" she replied, her head dropping.
I never would've guessed she was an 'other'—not that I have anything against them, but still…
"You're basically the only other kid in the whole school who isn't even tier 2…" she added, averting her gaze as if sparing me further embarrassment.
"Yeah, sorry about that…" Kal mumbled, offering an uncomfortable chuckle.
"Eh, it's fine. We can build a stronger bond than all the other students and teachers!" Rita said, her eyes sparkling.
Kal edged from the doorway into the classroom, settling into the one available chair.
Uncomfortably placed right in front of the teacher's desk.
Are you serious, sitting right in front of the teacher?!
Nonetheless, he sat down.
The bell rang again, signaling that class was about to start.
"Well, I guess it's time for class," Rita announced. "To be honest, I don't really have a lesson plan… so let's just chat! I'll think of something later."
"Uh, okay…" Kal replied.
"Come on, no need for stiff formalities. We're practically the same age—I'm 16 as well, give or take a couple years." Her voice brimmed with excitement.
"Alright then, I'm Kal, and I'm 16 on the nose—no giving or taking for me." He laughed lightly.
"See, you're lucky. Where I'm from, they don't track your age unless you're a noble or something. We just mark major events and count the seasons from there."
"Damn, that's tough. So I assume you weren't born a peasant but a normal working citizen?"
"Yeah, basically. Times have changed. Back then, there was no 'middle class' like you on Earth say, according to my parents. But ever since King Azan regained control of his family and the continent, things have improved!"
"Ah, I see. And I take it you weren't born into a family of farmers or anything like that?" Kal asked, his eyes tracing her snow-white skin and slender arms.
"Yeah, we weren't very outdoorsy—we were actually librarians!"
"Oh, nice! I enjoy a good library visit. What kind of books did you have?"
"We ran a kara-based library, so we stocked books on all sorts of topics."
Kal flinched a little. "Kara? I think I've heard of that in the news. Isn't that the energy resource they're trying to harvest from the fractures? I mean, before the Shattering and revolution, I heard there were traces of kara—but now, it's gone, isn't it?" His voice rose.
"Not exactly. The kara they harvest now is a pure form that regular humans can't filter. The one I mean is what you'd call 'magic.'"
Kal's eyes lit up. "Ah! Sort of like the glyphic code? I think that's what it's called."
"Exactly!" Rita sprang from her seat. "Did you know the glyphic code is actually a subset of kara? Even though my world's magic poured into yours years ago, your bodies never adapted—even though, physiologically, we're both human!"
"Wow, I didn't know that… I'd always assumed glyphic code was just a natural part of this world."
"Truth is, you share the same principles as kara, with some differences. It's more scholarly, if that makes sense—more rules, so it isn't entirely different."
"I've always wanted to learn the fundamentals, but I never had the money—nor a suitable mentor or talent…"
"Well, you know…" Rita dragged out the "O" in her tone, mischief glinting in her eyes. "If you want, I can teach you the basics. Kara isn't so different from your glyphic code—same energy source, just filtered by different rules."
Kal's pulse quickened.
Glyphic code stayed restricted to rankers and protectors, and only students ranked above 500 got into the advanced parts—the academy's main focus. Everyone had to be at least a tier 1 dissonant to get in, and then it became a free-for-all: either you had the talent to make the top 500 or you learned on your own with limited resources. Unfortunately, I fall into the latter category. I don't blame them, though—the code is new and can turn extremely volatile without professional supervision.
"You'd teach me? Even though you're not, y'know, authorized?"
Rita snorted. "Where I'm from, knowledge isn't locked behind paywalls. Kara runs in our blood, our libraries—even our farming tools." She twirled a strand of her streaked hair and softened her voice. "Then the fractures opened, your world started mining raw kara like it's oil, and suddenly everyone got obsessed with 'pure' energy. But they missed the point. Kara isn't just power—it's like your language. And glyphic code? That's your dialect."
Kal leaned forward. "So the Shattering—that's where kara came from?"
"Bingo. Your world tried to industrialize magic. Ours learned to live with it." She shrugged. "King Azan's reforms back home balanced things—libraries for nobles and regular folks alike. Here?" She gestured to the empty classroom. "There have been some reforms for better teaching, but unless you're really talented, you won't go far."
"But the glyphic code isn't even true kara, right?" Kal pressed. He'd seen newsreels—rankers wielding glowing symbols like weapons and protectors quelling riots with a flick of their wrists. "It's like… a knockoff?"
"A knockoff with training wheels," Rita grinned. "Your bodies can't handle raw kara, so someone diluted it into glyphs—safe, predictable, and boring. But the principles remain the same. Master the glyphs, and you're halfway to understanding."
Kal's mind raced. If glyphs were just a shadow of true kara, what could the real thing do?
"And you'd teach me? No strings attached?"
"None." Rita smiled.
╚══❖═══════❖══╝
By lunchtime, Kal's appetite had dwindled from his hearty breakfast.
-Beep Beep!
A golf cart sped by, honking at unsuspecting students.
"Move out of the way, dickheads!" a boy yelled from the cart.
Bastard rides a golf cart while we peasants walk!
╚══❖═══════❖══╝
A rhythmic bell blared from speakers in every classroom.
Finally, what a drag of a day—world history proved the worst. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss my first two periods. At least then, something felt different…
Kal merged into the crowd as he left class.
-Ding!
He glanced at his phone.
"Hey, you have to walk home btw, I'm working a 12-hour shift so I won't be home until later, but I made some salmon for dinner."
Kal's face scrunched as he read the text from his mom.
Ugh, annoying.
Determined to shorten his journey, Kal quickened his pace.
Not long after, he arrived home—exactly 3:30.
A 30-minute walk? Not too bad.
Kal pushed open the door. The house lay empty—a rare sight. If not his sister, then his brother; if not them, then his mother; if not her, nobody was home.
I hate to admit it, but sometimes I enjoy the solitude.
Kal paused in the doorway, admiring the stillness of the house and the evening sun streaming through the living room blinds.
Oh shit, I gotta plan for tonight!
He dashed to his room, locking the front door behind him.
"Alright, I already mapped out almost everything. I just have to decide how I'm going to deal with him now… I guess I'll try the strangling route again, right? Wait—what if they use the glyphic code? Then again, they wouldn't be such low-level mobs, right? Only rank 3 and above anti protectors can do that. That's mostly out of my jurisdiction anyway. For now…"
Kal fired up his laptop, typed in his password swiftly, and opened a document.
-Document File: Winston Smith-
Kal's eyes narrowed as he scanned his notes.
Winston Smith, 36, father of two. A normal prison guard and family man. Prisoners never badmouthed him—he always showed up for his two daughters. One daughter shines as a talented protector, enrolled in my combat class at my school. His other daughter, less gifted but smart, supports her sister from the shadows. They proudly work side by side.
Kal scrolled down and paused at the bold "IMPORTANT" section.
In the end, bygones will be bygones. He functions like a disease that must be controlled.
The notes listed his injustices:
• Families paid him to lock inmates in rival gang areas.
• He fed inmates into fractures.
• He ignored brutal assaults.
Winston stands as one of the many cancers plaguing this world. And sadly, that isn't even the worst…
Kal exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead.
"Alright, might as well eat and take a nap then. Looks like we're in for another late night, huh, Kal?"