WEEEE-OOOO! WEEEE-OOOO!
The fire alarm blared through the boys' dorm. Again.
That could only mean one thing—it was Monday.
Sprinklers erupted in the hallway like an indoor monsoon, flooding every room in seconds.
Water rained down directly onto Niko's bed.
He blinked, sighed.
Just like last time.
Dragging himself up, he moved with mechanical effort. Same towel, same routine. Before stepping out, he glanced down at his hand.
The mark was still there.
A faint, ring-shaped imprint around his fingers—subtle, but unmissable. He flexed his hand once, then covered it up and locked the door behind him.
The hallway was its usual chaos. Wild, wild west-style.
During post-exam weeks, the boys' dorm was usually chill. Just Rai and his fire-jockeys messing around—maybe a game of flame badminton, dodging matron slippers. But ever since the new semester began, it had escalated.
Now it looked like a war zone. Burn streaks, scorch marks, the smell of ozone in the air.
Rai and the jocks had clearly been at it again. Fire-skating down the hall like it was a lava rink.
And speak of the devil—there was Rai, zooming down the hall on his fire skates, doing who-knows-which lap by now.
"Goddamn you! Come back here!!" one of the matrons shouted, slipper raised high like a holy weapon.
"Morning, Niko! Bye!" Rai yelled as he blazed past, a human firecracker on wheels.
The matrons—mostly in their forties and fifties—were forbidden from using magic on students unless absolutely necessary. But if they managed to catch a troublemaker the old-fashioned way?
Oh, slippers were fair game.
Eventually, Rai did what Rai always did—he tripped over his own momentum and skidded face-first across the floor.
Right into a matron ambush.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
A storm of slippers rained down, accompanied by grunts, scolding, and something about "burn marks on my clean tiles."
Niko couldn't help but chuckle. He left Rai to taste his own medicine.
Outside, the sun peeked over the academy's crooked rooftops, casting long shadows across the courtyards.
And just like that, another day at Westhex Academy began.
Niko walked toward the usual spot. The courtyard was buzzing—students from every year milled around, chatting and laughing.
The fountain, dry for almost a full year, was finally filled again. The water was still murky, sure, but hey—at least someone tried.
Off to the side, he spotted Lia.
She was hanging out with a mix of third-years and first-years, most of them crowding around, complimenting her new goth look. The black coat, the wind-symbol necklace, the dark eyeliner—she looked like she belonged on a band poster now.
Niko shook his head with a half-smile and stepped into the main building.
Cracked windows, crooked doors, cobwebs in the corners—yep. Still the same as last semester.
He made his way down the hall and stopped in front of a familiar door.
Slipping in a key, he turned it, opened it, and stepped inside.
His workshop.
With a practiced motion, he dropped his bag, rolled up his sleeves, and slid onto the stool. Tools scattered across the table like candy. A small half-built gadget sat in the center. He picked up a screwdriver and got to work.
Then—
KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Come in," Niko said, tightening a screw without looking up.
The door creaked open. A small voice followed.
"Are you Niko?"
Niko glanced up.
A first-year stood awkwardly at the door.
The kid wore the standard-issue beanie given to all first-years—bright teal, with silver thread stitched in a slow, spiraling pattern. It looked ridiculous on most kids, but the enchantments woven into it made sure every teacher could spot a newbie from a mile away.
He stood stiffly, nervous but clearly trying to look brave.
"Yeah," Niko said, raising an eyebrow. "What of it?"
"Can you build some kind of... magic shield?"
His hands were clasped in front of him, knuckles pale. Niko leaned forward—and that's when he noticed the bruise.
Dead center on the kid's cheek.
Niko stood up immediately. "What the hell—"
He stepped closer, frowning. "Did someone hit you, man? That's messed up."
The boy flinched a little, but didn't step back. Niko grabbed a small med kit off the shelf and guided him to one of the guest chairs.
"Here, sit. Let me see that."
He gently dabbed the bruise, his expression dark.
"Who did this to you?" he asked.
The boy sniffled. "Some first-years... with a third-year older brother."
Niko exhaled slowly. "Figures."
He stood, walked to the counter, and pulled out a cold wrap from the cooler drawer. He handed it to the boy.
"If your heart's not strong enough," Niko muttered, "you shouldn't have joined Westhex in the first place."
The kid looked down, ashamed.
Niko sat beside him, softer now. "Look—I get it. People with bloodline magic? They treat folks like us—dormant, or no magic at all—like we're defective. But screw that."
He pointed at the cold wrap. "Press that on the bruise."
The kid winced but obeyed. His eyes lit up.
"It's cold... and soothing. How?"
Niko tapped his temple and smiled. "That's science, kid." He stood up and sat back at his workshop.
"As for some shield that you asked, I'm still perfecting it right now. And will test it today on the 'Combat Magic Defense' class"
No shield is better than your own. Steel your heart and fight back—with brains." Niko put on his safety goggles and went back to working on the gadget.
The kid, still holding the cold wrap, came closer to the workshop table, standing on his toes, curious.
Niko looks at him, "What are you doing? Go back to your group and come back here when I'm finished," he added, shooing the kid away.
"Thanks, Niko. You're the real one sticking up for us non-magic folks." The kid smiled and ran off.
"DON'T RUN IN THE HALLWAY!" shouts Niko, The kid slammed the workshop door, and a heavy THUD followed from the outside.
"I told you..." He stood up and opened the door.
But it wasn't the kid. But the plaque he put above the door. Written,
Non-Magic User Club.
He smiles and hangs it back above the door. Then he closed the door again.
* * *
Meanwhile, back at the boys' dorm, Rai stumbled out of the matrons' office, his coat covered in slipper-shaped welts and dust. He groaned, brushing himself off like a half-burnt chicken from a roast.
"Ugh. That last one had heels…"
He straightened up, grabbed his bag from his room, and slammed the door shut behind him. Lock. Click. Done.
Out into the fresh air he went.
As he strolled toward the courtyard, the newly filled fountain gurgled faintly in the distance—proof someone finally bothered to turn on the plumbing. The water was still murky, but it almost looked... decent.
That's when Rai saw her.
Phoebe.
She stood by the fountain with Lia and a few third-years, chatting about makeup, lip gloss charms, and other things Rai couldn't understand even if he tried.
"Pfft. Girls," he muttered, blowing a raspberry.
Lia spotted him instantly and, without missing a beat, flipped him off.
Rai grinned. "Love you too," he mouthed sarcastically, flipping her off right back with both hands, like a conductor in a symphony of mockery.
Phoebe didn't even glance his way, and Rai's grin faltered just a little.
As Rai stepped into the main building, the hallway buzzed with life—footsteps, laughter, lockers slamming shut.
Then—
"YO, MA MAN!! WASSUP?!"
A fourth-year barreled toward him and socked him playfully on the shoulder, followed by an explosive handshake-bro-hug combo. Classic jock code.
Rai grinned and punched him back. "Still got that noodle-arm swing, huh?"
The hallway erupted into brief chaos as more of his upperclassmen crew joined in, roughhousing like kids hopped up on Aether.
That was until it hit them.
A presence.
An eerie chill trickled down the corridor like someone had opened a freezer at the end of the hall.
"Such noises," came a groan, dry as desert wind, "louder than a pack of bumbling baboons..."
There stood Mr. Mister.
Face half-covered by his palm, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. His long coat fluttered slightly, though there was no breeze—just drama.
"No lollygaggin' in the hallway," he said coldly, like a judge passing sentence.
The crew froze.
Then, without a word, they bolted—scattering in every direction like cockroaches under a lantern.
Rai jogged off laughing, but not too loud. You never know when Mr. Mister might appear again… or worse, assign detention with paperwork.
* * *
At the fountain...
Lia and her group were gathered like queens on their throne, basking in the early morning sun. Students from various years lingered near the edges, but this circle was clearly the spot for gossip and glam.
"Sooo, Lia," one third-year girl said, twirling a lock of her curled hair with a dramatic wink. "Care to explain the sudden glow-up? Didn't know you had it in you, girl. Is there someone who made you wanna be... 'different'?"
"YEEEESSSS," a second-year chimed in, fanning herself with her notebook. "You used to be this shy, boring little thing with plain bangs. And now? Look at you, guuurl!"
Lia giggled, enjoying the attention but keeping her lips sealed.
Then Phoebe, arms crossed and leaning against the fountain, cut in with a raised brow, "So? Who is it? The cold one? Or that loud guy?"
Before Lia could even respond, the third-year leaned in conspiratorially...
"Nooo, not the cold one," the third-year whispered with wide eyes. "He's already taken by you-know-who."
Everyone glanced around, suddenly paranoid.
"Likka, though?" said the second-year, lowering her voice. "She's scary. Not bad scary, just... you know. Baddie with a capital B."
"She's definitely a baddie," someone else nodded. "Not the kind you mess with unless you got backup."
Lia finally raised her hands to speak. "Okay, okay—guys! This isn't about boys, alright? I just wanted to try something new. We're young. Why not experiment with a new look?"
"Yassss! Girl power!" the third-year squealed, snapping her manicured fingers with glitter-polished nails.
"Gurrrl poweeeeer~!" the group echoed in chorus, all striking playful poses like it was a perfume ad.
Then the study bell rang.
A low, resonant chime echoed across the academy grounds—one long tone followed by two sharp ones. Everyone knew what it meant.
"Ugh. There it is," someone groaned, stretching like it was the end of the world.
The courtyard scattered.
"See you after class!"
"Don't forget our project meeting!"
"Lunch spot's still the same, right?"
The girls around Lia exchanged finger hearts and waves before breaking off into pairs and groups, their footsteps echoing down the cobblestone paths.
Niko packed his tools with practiced efficiency, sliding the nearly-finished gadget into a cloth wrap and tucking it into his satchel. Slinging it over his shoulder, he gave the workshop one last glance before locking it behind him.
Somewhere nearby, Rai was still goofing around with his jock squad—laughing, shoulder-checking each other, and pretending the bell meant nothing at all.
"Yo! We late yet?" one of them asked with a grin.
"Nah, not until the second bell. That's when we run." Rai smirked.
Niko rolled his eyes and walked past them. "You'll be running from detention if you don't move now."
Rai stuck out his tongue. "We live in detention."
The halls began to fill as students moved into the main building—some fast-walking, others dragging their feet. Westhex Academy's classes were about to begin.
And so, another ordinary Monday began. Or… so it seemed.
* * *