The door clicked shut behind her, and for a long moment, Val just stood there, her back against the wood, her bag still slung over her shoulder.
She was alone. As usual.
Though not alone in the way she'd been alone for six years — watching doorways, sleeping with one eye open, and measuring every exit. That was survival. This was different. This was a room with four walls that were hers, a door that locked, and a window that looked out at a courtyard instead of an alley. This was peace.
She let her bag slide to the floor and walked to the bed. The mattress was firm, and the sheets were clean. She ran her hand over the blanket, feeling the fabric and its softness. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept on something that wasn't someone else's castoff. That was probably when Corin was still around. She missed him.
She sat on the edge, then lay back, staring at the ceiling. It was white and unmarked. No water stains, no cracks, no rat holes.
Her eyes burned, but she didn't cry. She hadn't cried since she was eleven, and she wasn't about to start now. This was almost too good to be true.
Instead, she sat up, pulled her knees to her chest, and let herself feel the strange, unfamiliar thing that might have been safety, peace, or something she didn't have a name for.
She pulled out the printed email from her jacket pocket and read it again, though she had memorized it days ago.
**Full tuition and board are covered under the Chancellor's Discretionary Fund.**
She still didn't know who had done this. She didn't know why. She had never met the Chancellor. Never spoken to anyone who worked at the academy. She was a nobody from nowhere — a thief, a street kid, the kind of person these halls were built to keep out.
But here she was. In a room. With a bed, a window, and a door that locked. Such luxury.
She folded the email carefully and tucked it into her jacket, next to her knife.
---
The orientation had lasted an hour, maybe more. Val had sat in the Anómalos section, her back straight and her hands in her pockets, listening to every word.
The woman on stage — the Vice Chancellor, she had said — had spoken about the history of Zōdiakos Academia. About the Fracture, the orbs that had fallen from the sky, and the first unnamed awakened who had become the heroes. About the twelve signs, the powers that flowed through bloodlines, and the way the system had shaped the world for centuries.
Val had heard some of it before in fragments — street talk, gossip, stories traded in market squares. But hearing it from the stage in that formal voice made it feel real.
"The orbs were the beginning," the woman had said. "They first awakened those who absorbed them, and from them, the noble houses were born. But the orbs also left something behind. The cracked sky, and through the cracks, the Fallen came — which is now known as the Void."
Fallen Constellations. Beasts born from corrupted zodiac essences, creatures that had roamed the wilds and slaughtered anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. Before they were driven back to the Void by the first awakened. Val had seen the aftermath of a Fallen attack once, when she was fourteen. A village on the outskirts of Veridian, torn open, the buildings crushed, nothing left but blood and silence. She had run and kept running, and she hadn't looked back.
The beasts were generally called Fallen and were grouped into Zodiac beasts, Corrupted beasts, and the strongest set — the Fallen Constellation beasts, a.k.a. FCBs. But they were unranked, since no actual human had successfully slaughtered one.
"The Astral Wardens were formed to protect the realm," the Vice Chancellor continued. "They hunt the Fallen beasts, guard the borders, and keep the peace. Those who were exceptionally powerful rose to the highest rank and became Constellation Knights — legendary warriors whose names are spoken alongside the heroes of old. They are the only ones who choose which beasts to fight, and they do so as they please."
Val had watched the students around her. Some leaned forward, eyes bright with ambition. Others shifted, scared and uncomfortable, as if the weight of what was being asked of them was already pressing down.
She had felt neither. She had felt the fire in her chest, quiet but present, waiting to be unleashed.
"Tomorrow," the Vice Chancellor had said, "you will be tested. Your powers will be assessed. Your limits will be found. Do not be afraid of what you discover. The academy exists to forge you into something stronger."
Then the lights came up, the students filed out, and Val found her way to this building, this room, this bed.
---
She lay back again, her hands behind her head, and stared at the ceiling.
A test tomorrow. They would measure her fire, her control — or lack of it. They would put her in a rank, probably in a class. And then they would start training her to hunt the things that had haunted her dreams since she was fourteen.
She pulled up her system screen.
```
User: Valerie
Status: Awakened
Rank: D
Sign: Aries
Stage: Awakened
Aspect: — (dormant)
Element: Fire
Special Powers: Wildfire, Ember Step, Flame Cloak
Mauri: 85/100
Experience: 73/100
Memory: —
Echo: —
Flaw: —
```
Rank D. She had never had anyone tell her what that meant. She knew the scale — F to S — but numbers didn't mean much when you had never been tested. The merchant's guard who had tried to help her once had said her output was closer to the Astral stage, but that was one man's guess.
Tomorrow, she would find out.
She dismissed the screen and closed her eyes. The room was quiet, the walls thick enough to muffle the sounds of other students moving through the building. For a moment, she let herself imagine staying here. Sleeping in this bed, waking to a window that looked at something other than garbage and rust. Eating free meals at a table with other people instead of crouching in alleyways with stolen bread.
She pushed the thought away. That wasn't who she was. That wasn't who she thought she could ever be.
But for tonight, she let herself have the room.
---
She woke once in the dark, disoriented, her hand already reaching for her knife. But there was no sound, no threat. Just the soft hum of a building that wasn't falling apart, walls that weren't rotting, and silence that meant safety, not danger.
She lay still for a long moment, her heart slowing, then turned onto her side and closed her eyes again.
Tomorrow, she would prove herself. Tomorrow, she would show them what her system could do. And maybe — maybe — she'd find out why she was here, who had sent that email, and what they wanted from her.
But for now, she had to rest.
---
Morning light filtered through the window, pale and grey. Val sat up, her body moving before her mind caught up. She dressed quickly, pulled her hair back, and tucked her knife into her boot. The email was still in her jacket pocket, folded small.
She stood at the window and looked out at the campus. Students were already moving between buildings, wearing different uniforms. She watched them for a moment, then turned away.
The test was at nine. She had an hour.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled up her system screen one more time.
```
Experience: 73/100
```
She needed twenty-seven points. She didn't know how many a test would give her. Maybe enough. Maybe not.
She dismissed the screen and stood.
She opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
---