Morning light spilled into BA-24 in clean, pale lines.
White walls.White sheets.White bandages wrapped loosely around Masakiro's wrists, faintly glowing with residual healing magic.
He sat on the edge of his bed, hunched forward, staring at the open egg shell resting between his knees.
It had hatched.
That part was undeniable.
The shell was split cleanly down the middle, edges smooth, almost gentle—no struggle, no violent break. Inside, faint traces of residual warmth still lingered.
But the hatchling?
Gone.
Or worse.
Masakiro swallowed, fingers tightening around the shell.
"It wasn't like this before," he muttered.
Across the room, Nairo Kurokage leaned against the black wardrobe, arms crossed.
His black hair fell over one eye, the other sharp and unreadable.
Shadows pooled naturally at his feet, obedient without being called.
"I know," Nairo replied calmly. "When it hatched, it was clear."
Masakiro nodded quickly. "Yeah—transparent. Like glass. I thought… I thought a crystal form was coming next. Everyone else had one."
A core. A crystal heart. That was how it was supposed to be.
Masakiro lifted the shell slightly.
The inside was now stained pitch black, as if ink had slowly seeped through crystal and replaced it entirely.
Not cracked. Not corrupted.
Changed.
"I went to sleep," Masakiro whispered. "When I woke up, it was like this."
Nairo stepped closer, gaze narrowing. "It didn't break."
"No."
"It didn't explode."
"No."
"It didn't reject you."
Masakiro shook his head. "Then why does it feel wrong?"
Before Nairo could answer—
Knock. Knock.
"Dorm check."
Both of them went still.
Nairo straightened instantly, shadows retracting into neat obedience. Masakiro fumbled, panic flashing across his face.
"I—I can't hide it," he whispered.
"You don't need to," Nairo said quietly. "Just don't lie."
The door slid open.
Instructor Valcrys stepped inside, clipboard floating beside him. His silver eyes scanned the room methodically—beds, windows, corners, aura traces.
Then his gaze stopped.
"…Your egg," he said. "Status."
Masakiro took a breath. "It hatched, sir."
Valcrys raised an eyebrow. "And the hatchling?"
Masakiro hesitated—then lifted the shell so it could be seen.
The black interior swallowed the light around it.
Valcrys' fingers stilled mid-air.
"That is… not standard," he said slowly.
"It wasn't black at first," Masakiro blurted out. "It was clear. There was no crystal, but it was normal. The color came later."
Nairo spoke up, voice even. "The change occurred after the bonding completed."
Valcrys looked between them. "You're certain there was no external interference?"
"Yes," they said together.
The instructor crouched slightly, eyes focusing—not on the shell, but on Masakiro.
"You feel anxious," Valcrys observed. "Not hostile. Not unstable."
Masakiro nodded. "I'm just… scared I did something wrong."
Valcrys straightened.
"Not all cores manifest as crystals," he said. "Some take time. Others… adapt."
His gaze lingered on the blackened shell.
"This will remain undocumented," he added sharply. "For now."
Masakiro's shoulders sagged in relief.
Valcrys turned to leave, then paused.
"Kurokage."
Nairo met his eyes.
"Watch for changes," Valcrys said. "Not in the shell."
"…In him."
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Masakiro stared down at the egg again. "So I didn't fail?"
Nairo looked at the shell, then at Masakiro.
"No," he said after a moment. "Whatever came out of that egg made a choice."
Masakiro hugged the shell closer to his chest, heart still racing.
"…I just hope," he murmured, "it doesn't hate me for it."
For the briefest second—
the black interior of the shell rippled, like something breathing.
Nairo noticed.
Masakiro didn't.
And the dorm room remained quiet.
--
Room A-11
The door slid open.
Heat rolled out.
Not wild—controlled, dense, heavy.
The instructor stopped at the threshold. "…Fire demon's dorm."
Inside, four girls turned at once.
At the center stood Virelia.
Golden hair flowed down her back like liquid flame, eyes bright and steady.
She didn't move, didn't bow—only smiled, calm and confident.
Behind her, the others reacted instantly.
The blue-haired girl snapped to attention, heels clicking.
"BK Class—Sera Ignis." She grinned sharply. "Fire manipulation, mid-range burst type."
She pointed straight at Virelia. "And that one? CM class. Only one here."
The short, boy-cut haired girl stepped forward, arms crossed.
"Kaien Blaze. BK class."Her voice was firm. "Close-combat fire reinforcement."
Her eyes flicked to the glowing cradle."Her egg hatched three nights ago. Light was so bright I thought my eyes were done for."
From the window, the long-haired girl lazily lifted her head.
"Rin Emberveil." She yawned. "BK class. Heat distortion and fire illusions."
Then, flatly "I was asleep. Got flash-banged by a dragon."
The instructor's eyes narrowed. "…Hatched?"
Virelia finally spoke.
"Yes."
She stepped aside.
The cradle came into full view.
Not black.Not dull.
It burned.
A radiant gold-crimson shell, veins of light pulsing beneath the surface like a living sun. Heat shimmered around it, runes rotating slowly.
The room seemed dimmer just standing near it.
"When it hatched," Sera added quickly, "the light filled the whole floor."
Kaien nodded. "Alarms failed. Curtains caught fire. My eyebrows didn't survive."
Rin muttered, "Still mad about that."
Virelia rested a hand near the cradle—never touching it.
"It wasn't violent," she said calmly. "It was… overwhelming."
The egg pulsed once, bright enough to make the instructor look away.
"…A Draklyn hatch," he said quietly.
"And I'm the only CM student in this room," Virelia added, tone steady, unapologetic."But we're all fire."
The egg released a soft crackle—like a satisfied breath.
The instructor cleared his throat, scribbling furiously.
"No violations," he said. "…Somehow."
As the door slid shut behind him—
Sera exhaled. "Still can't believe we're sharing a room with CM."
Kaien smirked. "More like surviving it."
Rin closed her eyes again."If that thing screams again at night, I'm sleeping in the hallway."
Virelia smiled faintly.
The egg glowed brighter.
Inside it, something stirred—not roaring yet,but learning the sound of the world.
Then, as Instructor Valcrys reached the end of the hallway, he squinted at the floating board beside him again.
Malakar, Yamata, and Tengu clans. All mix together.
He groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Nah… we'll just skip this one," he muttered.
The hallway seemed narrower here, shadows pooling in corners as if conspiring against him.
He turned, walking toward the far corner, footsteps echoing softly.
The air smelled faintly of smoke—and something else.
Power. Raw, unshaped, restless.
A faint laugh, almost musical, drifted from down the hall. He froze.
"Valcrys…" the voice teased, light but sharp.
He spun, eyes narrowing, but the hallway was empty.
Only the floating board wavered gently, humming faintly, like it was alive.
Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, "Every floor… a new headache."
The corner was in sight. Beyond it, he could almost feel the chaotic energy waiting in the next dorms.
Malakar, Yamata, Tengu… three clans crammed together, each known for… trouble.
And he had to check them all.
A small puff of wind stirred his coat as he rounded the corner.
"Just breathe… just breathe…" he muttered, preparing for the next storm behind the doors.