CHAPTER 38: BREAK IN

Mira quickly assessed the situation ahead. The corridor leading to the teachers’ quarters had two guards stationed at a checkpoint—both wearing the standard academy security uniforms, both looking alert and professional. They stood on either side of a reinforced door that required clearance to pass through.

She pulled back into the shadows of the alcove, watching as Jelo prepared himself. This was it. The moment of truth.

She gave him one final nod, then slipped away silently, finding a position further down the corridor where she could remain hidden but still observe. She pressed herself against the wall behind a decorative pillar, her breathing shallow and controlled, waiting for Jelo to make his move.

Jelo straightened his uniform, took a deep breath, and walked directly toward the checkpoint with purposeful strides.

The guards noticed him immediately. One of them—a tall man with a sharp jawline and cold eyes—held up a hand. "Stop right there," he said firmly. "This area is restricted to students. Turn around and head back to the dormitory section."

"I need to see a teacher," Jelo said loudly, his voice carrying down the corridor. "It’s urgent."

The second guard, shorter but stockier with a permanent scowl, stepped forward as well. "All teacher consultations must be scheduled during office hours. You can submit a request through your wrist device. Now leave."

"No," Jelo said, even louder now, taking another step forward. "I need to see Professor Hendricks right now. It can’t wait until tomorrow."

The tall guard’s expression hardened. "Professor Hendricks is not present. Even if he were, you still wouldn’t have clearance to enter this area. This is your final warning—leave now, or we’ll escort you out by force."

But Jelo didn’t leave. Instead, he took another step forward, his jaw set stubbornly. "I’m not leaving until I speak to someone. This is important!"

His voice had risen to almost a shout now, echoing through the corridor. Anyone nearby would definitely hear the commotion.

The tall guard exchanged a quick glance with his partner, clearly annoyed. "That’s it," he muttered, moving toward Jelo. "You were warned."

He reached out to grab Jelo’s arm, intending to physically turn him around and march him back the way he came.

But Jelo resisted. He pulled his arm back and tried to push past the guard, still shouting about needing to see a teacher, about how urgent his situation was, about how they couldn’t just turn him away.

The guard was stronger than an average person—security personnel were selected for their physical capabilities—but Jelo’s enhanced stats from leveling up made him surprisingly difficult to control. The guard’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as Jelo managed to break his initial grip and surge forward again.

"A little help here!" the tall guard called to his partner.

The stocky guard immediately moved in, and now both of them were trying to restrain Jelo. They grabbed his arms, trying to lock them behind his back, but Jelo continued to struggle, continued to shout, continued to make as much noise and cause as much trouble as possible.

"Let me go!" Jelo yelled. "I have rights! I need to speak to someone!"

"Stop resisting!" the tall guard grunted, finally managing to get a solid hold on one of Jelo’s arms.

Together, working as a team, the two guards managed to overpower him. They twisted his arms into control holds and began forcibly marching him backward, away from the checkpoint.

"You’re going to be written up for this," the stocky guard said through gritted teeth as they bundled Jelo down the corridor. "Attempting to breach a restricted area, resisting security personnel—you’re looking at serious disciplinary action, kid."

"I don’t care!" Jelo continued to shout, even as they dragged him further away. "This is important! You can’t just—"

His voice grew fainter as they moved him around the corner and out of sight, both guards completely focused on removing the troublemaker from the area.

The checkpoint to the teachers’ quarters stood empty.

From her hiding spot, Mira watched the guards disappear with Jelo, her heart pounding. *Fifteen minutes,* she reminded herself. That’s all she had before Jelo would run out of ways to keep them distracted and they’d return to their posts.

She moved quickly but silently, emerging from behind the pillar and approaching the now-unguarded door. She pulled out a small device she’d prepared earlier—a universal access card she’d... acquired... through means she preferred not to think too hard about.

She swiped it across the scanner, holding her breath.

The light turned green. The lock clicked open.

Mira slipped inside and eased the door shut behind her.

-----

The interior of the teachers’ quarters was nothing like the student areas.

Where the student dormitories and classrooms were sterile and minimalist, designed purely for function, this space had character. Warmth. Personality.

The entry room opened into a spacious lounge area with comfortable-looking leather couches and armchairs arranged around a low coffee table. Warm lighting came from actual lamps rather than the harsh overhead fluorescents in the rest of the academy. The walls were painted in soft, welcoming colors—deep burgundy and forest green—rather than institutional white.

Bookshelves lined one entire wall, floor to ceiling, packed with volumes of all sizes. Some looked ancient, leather-bound with gold lettering. Others were modern, with sleek spines and digital integration ports. A few were clearly personal collections—fiction novels, historical texts, even some manga and graphic novels mixed in.

Beyond the lounge, Mira could see several doorways leading to what were probably individual offices or private study rooms for the teachers. A small kitchenette occupied one corner, complete with a coffee maker that was currently brewing something that filled the air with a rich, pleasant aroma.

It was comfortable. Almost cozy. A stark reminder that teachers were people with lives and preferences beyond just standing at the front of classrooms.

But Mira didn’t have time to appreciate the atmosphere. She had maybe twelve minutes left, probably less.

She moved quickly to the massive bookshelf, her eyes scanning the spines. There had to be thousands of books here. How was she supposed to find information on dragons in this mess?

Then she noticed something. The books were arranged in sections, and each section had a small label. She moved closer to read them.

*Tier 1 Systems. Tier 2 Systems. Tier 3 Systems. Tier 4 Systems. Tier 5 Systems.*

Mira paused, thinking this through. The academy classified ability systems by tier based on their power and rarity. Tier 1 was common, relatively weak. Tier 5 was legendary, world-changing power.

Where would a dragon system fall?

She decided to start at the bottom—Tier 1. She pulled out her wrist device and activated its flashlight function, running it along the spines in the Tier 1 section.

*Beast Bonding Systems. Elemental Manipulation - Basic. Physical Enhancement - Minor. Sensory Augmentation...*

Nothing on dragons. She moved through the entire Tier 1 section systematically, but came up empty.

Mira’s anxiety was growing. She’d been inside for at least eight minutes now. Time was running out.

Then she had a thought. A dragon system would either be insanely useless—so weak and pointless that it ended up in Tier 1—or it would be peak power, something so rare and powerful it belonged at the very top.

No in-between. That’s how legendary creatures worked in every story, every piece of mythology she’d ever encountered.

She moved quickly to the Tier 5 section, her heart pounding.

This section was much smaller—only a few dozen books compared to the hundreds in the lower tiers. Her flashlight swept across the spines, looking for anything that might—

There.

*Draconic Systems: Origins, Evolution, and Manifestation*

The book was slightly large —with a dark red cover that looked like it might be made from actual scales. Gold lettering gleamed on the spine.

Mira pulled it from the shelf, expecting it to be incredibly heavy given its size.

But somehow, it felt light. Not weightless, but far lighter than it should have been, as if the book existed slightly out of phase with normal physical laws.

She stared at it for a moment, a chill running down her spine. This was it. This was what Jelo needed.

Without wasting another second, Mira opened her bag and carefully tucked the book inside.