CHAPTER 274: NEW PROFESSORS (2)

Dimensional Theory was held in one of the academy’s upper towers, its walls lined with floating diagrams and translucent glyphs that bent light itself.

Merlin took a seat near the back. The room buzzed faintly with distorted mana, like the air was thinner here, stretched.

Professor Asterion entered wordlessly, a trail of violet motes in his wake.

He turned, sharp gaze sweeping the class. "Let’s begin with a question."

He raised his hand, and the space above his palm rippled, folding inward like water drawn into itself. "What is distance?"

A murmur went through the room. Someone answered, "A measurement between two points."

Asterion smiled thinly. "Incorrect. Distance is perception. It exists because you perceive separation. Remove perception, and space becomes irrelevant."

With a flick of his fingers, the folded sphere above his hand burst outward, expanding and collapsing again in perfect silence.

The air shimmered around him.

"Dimensional control," he continued, "isn’t power. It’s understanding that everything, matter, sound, movement, exists within a framework. You don’t break the rules. You... bend them."

He looked up then, eyes locking on Merlin.

"You. Everhart. Define the word ’boundary.’"

Merlin paused. Then: "...A limit we set to protect what we understand."

Asterion’s lips curved faintly, the smallest hint of approval. "Not bad. Let’s see how long you can hold that thought once you realize boundaries don’t protect you, they trap you."

By the end of class, most of the students were pale and dizzy. The air itself had twisted under the instructor’s exercises, desks shifting subtly, the view from the windows warping like glass under heat.

Merlin stood, steady despite the distortion. His system thrummed faintly under his skin, responding instinctively to the manipulation of space, but he kept it leashed, invisible.

As he left the classroom, Elara was waiting near the door.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Like being taught physics by someone who’s forgotten what gravity is."

She smiled faintly. "That bad?"

"That good," Merlin said.

The day continued, classes shifting from mana theory to sparring practice to tactical simulations. The campus buzzed with energy, the kind that comes before something big.

By the time the sun began to dip, the training fields glowed orange. Merlin stood by the edge, watching the second years spar under Professor Vale’s supervision.

Adrian’s laughter rang out from the other end, clashing with Nathan’s worried protests and Liliana’s exasperated sighs. Ethan sat nearby, pretending to nap.

And for just a heartbeat, everything felt normal.

No prophecies. No system. No looming gods.

Just... life.

That night, as he walked back to the dorms, Merlin glanced toward the distant towers of the city. Lights flickered, carriages hummed, and somewhere out there, his investments, his secrets, and his hidden identity all quietly pulsed beneath the surface.

But for now, Starpower Academy was enough.

Tomorrow, though...

Tomorrow, something would shift again.

The air around the eastern wing of the academy thrummed faintly, a quiet pulse of mana woven through the morning wind. Even the sunlight looked different here, filtered through faint blue wards that shimmered against the walls like glass veins.

Merlin slowed as he reached the edge of the training sector.

A massive silver dome loomed ahead, smooth and alive with runic light. The plaque near its gate read simply:

AFFINITY CONVERGENCE TRAINING — RESTRICTED ENTRY

He stopped at the gate, the hum of power brushing his skin. For a moment, he stood still and just listened, to the soft, rhythmic resonance under his feet. The dome had its own heartbeat.

Footsteps crunched lightly behind him.

Nathaniel Varen appeared, dark hair still a mess, half his uniform untucked, the same unbothered grin plastered across his face. His deep blue eyes flicked from the dome to Merlin. "You didn’t wait up."

"I did," Merlin said dryly, "you’re just late."

Nathan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really need to work on that definition of patience, man."

Merlin’s gaze turned back to the dome. "You ready?"

"I guess? Though I still don’t get why we’re the only ones here."

"Because no one else can handle what this class is supposed to teach."

Nathan gave a half-grin, pretending not to catch the weight behind those words. "You mean they didn’t want to deal with explosions before breakfast."

Merlin’s lips curved faintly. "That too."

He stepped forward, the runes across the archway recognizing his mana signature. The doors unfolded in silence, light bleeding from the seams.

Inside, the dome opened into a vast circular chamber, gray stone, polished silver lines spiraling toward the center, faint blue mist swirling where the mana converged.

A few instructors waited by the control dais. Three of them. Their presence filled the room even before they spoke.

The woman in front, tall and sharp-featured with auburn hair and golden eyes, took one measured step forward. Her tone carried command even when soft.

"Merlin Everhart. Nathaniel Varen. Welcome to Convergence Field One."

She paused, her gaze sweeping across them like a blade. "I am Maerin Duskfall, Senior Instructor for Elemental Synchronization. These are my colleagues — Instructor Vale of Lightning Discipline and Instructor Hira from Fluid Dynamics."

Both nodded, Vale, a lean man with hair like silver threads sparking faintly with static; Hira, calm, poised, her robes the color of deep water.

Maerin gestured to the concentric rings on the floor. "Step into the convergence circle. Begin calibration."

Nathan glanced at Merlin as they moved forward. "You ever get the feeling we’re lab rats?"

"All the time," Merlin said.

They stepped inside. The circle’s light flared, casting faint blue onto their faces.

Maerin’s voice echoed through the dome. "We will begin by measuring resonance ratios. Focus on your primary affinity first. Maintain balance."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Alright, easy enough."

Darkness gathered around him, not the heavy suffocating kind, but smooth and fluid, bending light around his frame. It flickered with faint arcs of lightning, the edges glinting with a sheen of water before soft streaks of white-gold light bled through, illuminating the shadows.

The air itself reacted, bending slightly, a low hum filling the chamber.

Hira’s eyes widened. "Four overlapping signatures... darkness, lightning, light, and water. All holding at once?"

Vale muttered under his breath. "That’s not overlapping. That’s... coexisting."

Maerin said nothing. Her gaze sharpened.

Nathan winced slightly, sweat running down his neck, but his stance stayed firm.