Elsewhere in campus, Adam faced a different challenge entirely.
His roommate—Gregor, whose build suggested a dirty troll ass ancestry somewhere in his family tree—lounged on a bed that looked too small for his bulk, surrounded by small crew of similarly large candidates who'd apparently adopted him as a social leader.
"Look who's back," Gregor announced as Adam entered their shared room. "The little intelligence kid. Still pretending you belong here?"
Adam maintained a neutral expression, his Mental Dampening core subtly active—not obviously defensive, just making his presence slightly harder to focus on, making Gregor's attention slide away without his conscious recognition.
Same routine, Adam thought with internal exhaustion. The intimidation was obvious, heavy-handed—and for most, effective. For Adam, it meant nothing. He'd murdered men and monsters with the same steady hands. Fear had no weight left to press on him.
