Rouka stepped out of the chamber, the faint echo of his footsteps stretching across the polished stone floor. The residual glow from the dissolved walls lingered in his mind, a subtle reminder that the entrance exam was over, even as the weight of what came next pressed against him. Ahead lay the heart of Alexandria Academy, the place where knowledge, skill, and instinct would be tested endlessly.
The hall was enormous.
High vaulted ceilings arched overhead, light filtering through tall stained glass panels and scattering across the stone floor in fractured patterns. Banners heavy with embroidered sigils hung from the walls, symbols of legendary Indexers and long-forgotten expeditions. The air thrummed with quiet energy. Murmured voices, the soft shuffle of robes, and the occasional clink of metal layered together into a constant hum.
Rouka's eyes swept over the newly admitted students.
Each one moved differently. Some walked cautiously, shoulders tense, as if expecting the floor to shift beneath them. Others strode forward with their heads high, radiating either self-assurance or arrogance. A few lingered at the edges of the hall, choosing to observe rather than step forward.
Rouka noted the subtle cues. Posture. Microexpressions. The way fingers twitched or eyes flicked toward the podium. All of it was data. Every fragment could be stored, analyzed, and recalled.
A boy with slick black hair leaned lazily against a column, arms crossed, a sharp grin tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked toward Rouka, lingered for a brief moment, then swept away as if amused.
Confidence. Or overconfidence.
Kael, someone whispered nearby.
Rouka made a mental note. A rival worth watching.
Nearby, a girl with warm brown hair whispered to a smaller companion, her wide eyes darting toward Rouka before quickly turning away. Curiosity, not hostility. Cautious interest rather than competition.
Mira.
Someone who could become an ally, if approached correctly.
Farther back, another student stood perfectly still, arms folded, expression unreadable. No one stood near them. Rouka's gaze lingered longer than most, noting the faint tension in their shoulders and the precise alignment of their weight.
Not flashy. Calculating.
Danger did not always announce itself.
At the front of the hall, a glowing projection shimmered into existence.
The leaderboard.
Names appeared in neat columns alongside numerical scores, fragment acquisition ratings, and efficiency percentages. Rouka's own name sat near the top, highlighted faintly by the System's automated marker.
[Entrance Exam Performance: Exceptional]
[Pattern Recognition: 137% Efficiency]
[Execution Adaptability: 92%]
[Behavioral Insight: High]
He scanned the rest of the list. Some faces he remembered from the chambers. Others were unfamiliar. The numbers told a story. Brute strength paired with poor adaptability. High recognition with limited creativity.
Each score was a clue.
"Not bad," a voice said beside him.
Rouka turned slightly. A tall boy with sandy hair stood nearby, offering a tight lipped grin.
"Almost perfect," the boy continued. "You made it look easy."
Rouka's gaze flicked over him. Fingers tapping lightly against his sleeve. Unconscious. Nervous.
"I am sure you did well too," Rouka said simply.
The boy blinked, then laughed awkwardly.
"My name's Yorin."
Rouka shakes the boy's hand firmly before his eyes drift back towards the projection looking for the name the boy just uttered.
Not far below his own name he finds the name Yorin.
Rouka Smiles.
"See, you did quite well indeed." he says to the boy.
But before they could continue their conversation the hall fell silent.
"Welcome, candidates, to Alexandria Academy."
The whole vibe of the auditorium shifts.
"This person is strong." he whispers under his breath.
She continues.
"My name is Valen Tennare, in your time at this academy you shall know me as Head Examiner."
Heads snapped toward the podium. A tall figure stood there, robes flowing, hands clasped behind their back. Her presence alone commanded attention.
"You have succeeded where many others have failed," she continued. "Your skills, intellect, and adaptability have earned you a place here. But the world beyond these walls is far larger, more complex, and more dangerous than any single chamber could convey."
Head Examiner Valen's gaze swept the room.
"Every corridor you walk, every room you enter, and every fragment of knowledge you obtain will test not just your skill, but your judgment, perception, and creativity. Remember this."
Whispers spread through the students. Some shuffled nervously. Others straightened with determination.
Rouka remained still, eyes drifting to subtle inconsistencies. The slight angle of the podium floor. Uneven banner spacing. Gazes that kept returning to the exits.
"Lessons begin tomorrow," Valen said. "Until then, observe. Learn. Reflect. Those who fail to perceive the world accurately will find themselves unprepared."
As the assembly concluded, students began to disperse in small groups.
Rouka moved with the flow, paying attention to everything. Footsteps echoed differently across the floor. A banner trembled slightly near a vent. Residual System energy hummed faintly around the projection boards.
"Do you really think he cleared it that easily?" someone whispered behind him.
He did not respond. Some questions answered themselves.
Kael caught his gaze again as Rouka passed. The smirk remained. Rouka inclined his head in acknowledgment. No challenge. No retreat.
Further into the corridors, Rouka noted the academy's architecture. Grooves carved into stone that pulsed faintly. Panels that reacted to movement. Doorways that did not align perfectly with perspective.
Nothing was ornamental here.
The System pulsed briefly.
[Attention: Candidate 042 exhibits unconventional pattern application.]
[Observation: Candidate 108 shows adaptability exceeding average.]
Rouka stored the data. Information was useless unless applied.
He paused near a quiet alcove. Mira stood there, closing her notebook as she noticed him.
"You are Rouka, right?" she asked, nervous but smiling. "You're the talk of the town."
"Observation matters more than brute skill," Rouka replied.
She blinked, then nodded slowly.
He moved on.
From the back of the hall, the silent observer's attention remained fixed on him.
Rouka did not look back.
"Tomorrow will be interesting," he said quietly.
Every pattern gathered today would matter.
This was only the beginning.