"Wait—what school are you planning to apply to?" Liam Shaw, who'd been silent until now, finally chimed in. He looked surprised when he heard Theo say he was aiming for grad school. "Didn't think you were the type."
"I haven't decided yet," Theo replied, honest and self-aware. "Whichever school accepts me, I'll go. To be real, I'm just trying to delay the inevitable. I don't want to start working yet. If I can squeeze in two more years of school, that's a win."
Liam nodded like that made sense. "And you?"
"What can I do?" Liam said with a shrug. "I'll probably just find a job around Greenville. Not like anyone starves to death in this country anymore. I'll get by."
In all the simulated lives Tony had run through using the Life Simulator, he never really saw what happened to his roommates. Probably because, in each timeline, he drifted away from them after graduation. He didn't know if their futures would actually unfold the way they said—or if they'd even stick to these paths.
"We've all said our piece—what about you, Tony?" Theo asked, turning toward him. "You've been quieter than usual. What's your plan after college?"
Tony hesitated for just a moment. Then he said, "Same as Theo. I'm prepping for grad school."
"You?" The room practically echoed with disbelief.
Theo was at least average in their program, and Liam was arguably top of their dorm. But Tony? His grades were bottom-tier, saved from failing only because a few generous professors didn't want to flunk him outright.
"What, you don't believe me?" Tony grinned. "You ever heard the phrase 'the prodigal son returns'? That's me. Reformed and ready. From now on, I'm the guy who's serious about his future. If anyone makes noise while I'm sleeping—don't blame me when I go full monk mode and disown you all."
They laughed, but the room still felt weirdly quiet afterward. Nobody was quite sure if he was serious.
"So… which school are you aiming for?" Theo pressed.
Tony didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his towel and washbasin and headed to the sink.
It wasn't that he was being secretive. He just knew if he told them he planned to apply to Westbridge University—one of the country's most prestigious research institutions—it would trigger a full-on meltdown. Westbridge was a national powerhouse, and Greenville State, where they currently studied, was nowhere near its league.
To them, Tony Snow wasn't someone who applied to a place like Westbridge. He was someone who heard about people applying there.
After his shower, Tony climbed into bed and tried to wind down. But his roommates kept the chatter going.
"There's class tomorrow—let's not stay up all night," Tony eventually muttered.
"Tomorrow's all lab work—chem and physics. No lectures. We're free in the afternoon. C'mon, man, don't tell me you've actually turned into a morning guy?" Theo teased from his bunk.
Tony didn't respond. Instead, he quietly ordered an eye mask and earplugs from his phone, placed the order, and set the device down beside his pillow.
When Theo realized no one was feeding into his jokes anymore, he gave up.
The dorm finally went silent.
The next morning, the beep-beep of Tony's alarm clock jolted the room. His roommates groaned.
"Dude… it's only six," Liam mumbled from behind his curtain.
"Morning run," Tony replied as he got dressed and slipped out.
He'd done his best to move quietly. No stomping. No noisy drawers. He wanted to be respectful now that he was actually doing things differently.
By the time he'd finished his run, showered, and eaten breakfast, it was just past seven-thirty. His roommates were only just starting to stir.
Two years in the same room meant Tony knew their habits down to the minute. He even knew how long it took each of them to brush their teeth.
In that morning's lab, Tony was laser-focused. Every pipette, every beaker—he handled it all with surprising care. He followed the instructions like a seasoned assistant, which made sense, given that in more than one of his simulated lives, he'd worked in research labs after graduation.
But to his surprise, familiarity with the knowledge didn't mean perfect execution.
Despite knowing the protocols by heart, his hands were clumsy. He still had the fumbling grip of someone new to the bench.
So this is what the "skill" option in the Life Simulator meant… Tony thought, taking a moment to reflect as their reaction mixtures incubated.
When a simulation ended, he always picked Option 1: Retain knowledge. That gave him information—facts, theory, concepts.
But Option 3: Retain skill must've meant actual muscle memory—how to perform tasks with practiced ease. Like driving a car. With knowledge, you might understand how to operate it. With skill, you could weave through traffic like a veteran cabbie.
If I had picked "skill," would I be working this lab bench like a pro right now?
He didn't know if the system gave both knowledge and skill when you selected Option 3. But if it did… then that option might be way more powerful than he'd realized.
"Hey, you finish the Microbiology homework for tomorrow?" Theo suddenly asked.
They'd partnered up for the lab. In the past, Tony was usually the helper who washed glassware while Theo handled everything else. But now that Tony was suddenly "on his grind," Theo figured the odds were good he'd already done the work.
Tony blinked. Right. The Microbio homework.
In the rush of simulations, part-time jobs, and studying for grad school, he'd completely forgotten.
"Not yet," Tony said casually. "No class this afternoon, and I've got the evening too. Plenty of time."
"Cool. Lemme know when you finish. I'll copy it and boost you to Gold in Valor Tactics tonight."
Tony chuckled but didn't answer. He already knew he wouldn't have time for games.
When they got back to the dorm at noon, Theo invited him for a match.
"Nah, I'm taking a nap, then heading to the library."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "You serious?"
Tony nodded. "Dead serious."
Two days later—Friday—Tony's package arrived: the English prep books he'd ordered for the grad school exam.
Over the weekend, he found another part-time gig: tutoring center proctor, or as they called it, a "desk teacher." He didn't need to teach—just supervise kids during study hours and answer questions if needed.
The job paid $30 an hour. He worked six hours each day, earning $360 by Sunday evening.
Add that to the $100 he made handing out flyers earlier, and Tony had raked in $460 in less than a week.
With that and what he'd saved from this month's living expenses, Tony could finally afford the rest of his study materials.
His days quickly settled into a productive rhythm: attending class during the day, spending his free hours at the library, working part-time on weekends. It was a life of balance and momentum—and for once, Tony felt in control.
It wasn't until Wednesday that he finally saw the notification he'd been waiting for.
[Life Simulator Mission Complete. You may now begin a new simulation.]