Corren sat in the back row of the lecture hall, a folded piece of paper heavy in his jacket pocket.
Two hundred and fifty thousand valys. Ten days to pay it.
The number had stopped feeling real somewhere around the third time he'd counted his savings. Fifty valys. Two years of brutal factory work, and he had fifty valys to show for it. The rest had gone to rent, food, surviving. Always just surviving.
Around him, students filtered in. Nobles in tailored academy robes, their family crests embroidered in silver thread. Commoners in simpler clothes, but still new, still clean. Everyone belonged here except him.
His factory uniform still smelled of oil and Beast blood, no matter how many times he washed it.
Lyra dropped into the seat beside him. She didn't say anything, just slid a small wrapped package across the desk.
Corren glanced at it. "What's this?"
"Lunch. You didn't eat breakfast."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're always hungry. You're just too stubborn to admit it." She pushed the package closer. "Eat."
He wanted to argue. Wanted to say he didn't need her charity. But his stomach betrayed him with a low growl, and Lyra's expression said she'd physically force-feed him if necessary.
He took the package. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Seriously. Don't." She pulled out her notebook, flipping to a blank page. "Ready for another thrilling lecture?"
Before Corren could answer, the hall went silent.
Gladius had entered.
He didn't stride or swagger. He simply walked to the front of the hall, and somehow that quiet confidence commanded more attention than any theatrical entrance could. Silver hair swept back, sharp eyes that seemed to catalogue every face in a single glance.
"Good morning," Gladius said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. Not loud. Just clear. "Today we discuss the fundamental question every Veil user must answer: What can my power actually do?"
He gestured, and ice crystallized in the air before him, not a weapon, just a simple barrier, translucent and gleaming.
"Most of you awakened three days ago. You felt your Veil tear free, felt it manifest for the first time. Some of you created fire." He glanced toward where Darius sat in the front row. "Some of you shaped metal." A nod toward Lyra. "Some of you..." His gaze found Corren. "...awakened something you don't yet understand."
Corren's jaw tightened.
"Here is what you must understand," Gladius continued, dismissing the ice barrier with a wave. "Your Veil is not a gift. It is not a blessing handed down by fate. It is you—your self-concept, your understanding of what you are, made manifest in reality."
He began to pace, hands clasped behind his back.
"And reality has rules."
Gladius gestured to a student in the third row—a boy with nervous energy practically vibrating off him. "You. Fire Veil, correct?"
The boy nodded quickly. "Yes, Professor."
"Create a shield for me."
The boy blinked. "A... shield?"
"A solid barrier. Something that could stop a blade."
"I…" The boy raised his hands. Flames flickered to life in his palms, dancing between his fingers. He tried to shape them, to compress them into something solid.
The flames simply scattered, heat washing over the nearby students.
"It won't work," the boy said, frustrated.
"Why?" Gladius asked.
"Because... because fire isn't solid?"
"Precisely. Fire is energy. Heat and light and chemical reaction. It has no mass. No structure. You cannot create a physical shield with fire any more than you can build a house with sunlight." Gladius turned to address the full hall. "This is the first rule: Your Veil manifests according to physical law. Fire cannot bear weight. Lightning cannot create barriers. Light cannot push objects."
He raised one finger. "However."
The temperature in the room dropped. Frost spread across the windows.
"Secondary effects." Gladius created another ice barrier, but this time he did something different. The air in front of the ice shimmered, distorted. "Fire cannot create a solid wall. But fire heats air. Hot air expands, creates pressure. If you superheat a small space quickly enough..."
He gestured to the fire user. "Try it. Don't create a shield. Create a pressure wall."
The boy concentrated. This time, instead of trying to shape the flames, he simply unleashed a burst of heat into the air directly in front of him.
The air rippled. Visible distortion.
Gladius threw a practice knife. It hit the distortion and deflected sideways, spinning off course.
The hall erupted in murmurs.
"Not a true barrier," Gladius said calmly. "But functionally similar. This is creative application using what your power does to achieve what your power cannot."
Corren leaned forward, pen moving across his notebook. Around him, other students scrambled to catch up.
"Let me give you more examples," Gladius continued. "Metal users, you can shape existing metal, but can you create it from nothing?"
A girl raised her hand. "No, Professor. We need source material."
"Correct. But." Gladius smiled faintly. "Metal conducts. Heat. Electricity. A metal whip is useful. A metal whip superheated to white-hot is devastating. A metal barrier is strong. A metal barrier conducting captured lightning is impenetrable."
Lyra's pen flew across her page, sketching designs.
"Ice users," Gladius said. "You can freeze water, create barriers, weapons. But can you burn someone?"
"No," someone called out.
"Wrong." Gladius created a shard of ice in his palm. "Extreme cold burns just as surely as fire. Frostbite. Hypothermia. Flash-freeze someone's blood and their heart stops." He let the ice melt. "It's not fire. But the effect is the same."
The hall had gone completely silent now. Even the nobles were taking notes.
"Your Veil has primary functions—what it was designed to do. But every power has ripples. Secondary effects. Consequences." Gladius's gaze swept the room. "Master the ripples, and you become dangerous. Ignore them, and you remain predictable."
He gestured to the board behind him, where words began to appear in frost:
IMAGINATION WITHIN BOUNDARIES
"You will be creative. You will experiment. You will push your Veil to its limits." Gladius's voice hardened. "But you will respect physics. A fire user who tries to create solid matter will fail and waste energy. A lightning user who tries to generate mass will burn out their Self-Thread for nothing."
He paused.
"Understand your limits. Then find ways around them."
The lecture continued for another hour. Gladius demonstrated advanced techniques, had students attempt basic applications, corrected their forms with clinical precision.
Then he gestured to the back of the hall.
"Miss Cinder. Come forward."
Corren's head snapped up. Two rows ahead, the white-haired girl stood without hesitation. Still expressionless. Still unsettling.
She walked to the front of the hall like she was walking to her execution—calm, detached, inevitable.
"Wind Veil," Gladius said. "Considered one of the more versatile elements. Fast. Invisible. Difficult to counter." He created an ice barrier between them. "Most wind users focus on offense. Cutting blades. Projectile acceleration. But wind can also be used defensively."
He looked at Cinder. "Create a barrier of compressed air."
The hall leaned forward collectively.
Cinder raised one hand. Just one. Her expression didn't change.
The air in front of her rippled. Not like the fire user's pressure wall—this was different. Denser. More controlled.
Gladius threw his knife.
It stopped.
Not deflected. Not slowed. It simply stopped mid-air, caught in invisible resistance.
"Adequate," Gladius said. He created another knife from ice. Threw it harder.
It stopped again.
"Impressive." He created three knives. Threw them simultaneously from different angles.
All three stopped.
Gladius's eyebrows rose slightly, the most emotion Corren had seen from him. "You're compressing the molecules. Creating a pocket of high-density air that functions as a solid medium."
"Yes," Cinder said. Her voice was flat. Mechanical.
"This is an B Tier technique. I developed it five years into my career after studying Rift Beast behavior." Gladius studied her. "How long did it take you to replicate it?"
"Seventeen minutes after you demonstrated the concept."
The hall exploded.
Students shouting questions. Others laughing in disbelief. A few just staring, trying to process what they'd heard.
Gladius raised one hand. Silence fell like a guillotine.
"Seventeen minutes," he repeated quietly. "This is the difference between competence and genius. Between those who learn techniques and those who understand principles." His gaze swept the hall. "Most of you will spend years mastering what Miss Cinder accomplished in less time than it takes to eat lunch."
He dismissed her with a nod. She returned to her seat without acknowledgment, without pride, without anything.
Corren watched her go. Something cold settled in his chest.
Seventeen minutes. She learned an A-Tier technique in seventeen minutes.
And I can't even hold my Veil stable for twenty seconds.
"Right," Gladius said, pulling attention back. "Before we conclude, let's address the elephant in the room." His eyes found Corren. "Ashveil. Stand."
Corren's stomach dropped. Around him, students turned to stare.
He stood slowly, legs uncertain.
"You passed my barrier three days ago," Gladius said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes, Professor."
"Explain how."
Corren opened his mouth. Closed it. "I... don't know."
"You don't know." Gladius's tone was flat. Clinical. "You accomplished something that should have been impossible for someone with a Fragile Veil, and you don't know how you did it."
"No, Professor."
"Can you replicate it?"
"I don't think so."
"Have you attempted to understand your Veil's mechanism?"
"I've tried, but it just…" Corren gestured helplessly. "It cracks. It breaks. Nothing manifests properly."
Gladius walked closer, boots echoing on stone. He stopped directly in front of Corren's row.
"Then let me be clear, Ashveil. In three days, you will enter a Rift. You will face Beasts that want to kill you. Your team will rely on you, and you will rely on them." His voice dropped. "If you do not understand your own power by then, you will die. Is that sufficiently clear?"
Corren's throat was dry. "Yes, Professor."
"Ignorance is not an excuse. It's suicide." Gladius turned back to address the hall. "This applies to all of you. You have three days to master basic applications of your Veils. Use them wisely."
He gestured dismissively. "Dismissed."