Velden Prime's dorm towers stood like blades in the fog.
Each house had its own wing — Voltaris bright and noisy, Pyrax echoing with laughter, Ocealis quiet as snow.
And then there was Aetherion: the forgotten tower at the edge of the academy wall.
Arrival
An escort led Xander down a long corridor lined with cracked tiles and silent portraits. The Aetherion insignia — a black phoenix — was painted on the door in fading ink.
Inside, only a handful of students milled about. Their uniforms were slightly different: darker fabric, reinforced gloves, containment bands around their wrists.
A girl with crimson streaks in her white hair looked up from cleaning her sword.
"New recruit?" she asked.
"Xander Valois," he said carefully.
She smiled faintly. "Mira Cael. Mutation type — flame distortion. Don't worry, I don't explode unless I'm angry."
Another voice called from the corner. A tall boy was adjusting a pair of mechanical braces around his arms.
"Taro Jinn. Earth-steel resonance. Mutation fried my nerves, so the braces help me move."
Xander nodded, realizing they all shared the same label the instructors whispered about: unstable.
At the far end of the hall, a door opened.
An older student stepped out — lean, serious, a sword slung across his back. His uniform carried an officer's stripe.
"Commander Lira Dain, provisional leader of House Aetherion," she said. "Welcome to the House no one talks about."
Orientation
Lira guided them to a small training room.
"Our house exists for one reason," she said. "To study resonance that doesn't fit the Academy's model. We train separately, we report separately, and we are watched constantly."
Renn — who had followed as part of Xander's new team — frowned. "Watched?"
Lira tapped the wall. Hidden lenses blinked red. "Every movement is logged. Don't let it bother you; they only check for instability spikes."
Xander asked, "Why keep a whole house for us if they think we're dangerous?"
Lira smiled without humor. "Because sometimes dangerous things are useful."
Sword Practice
The next day began with weapon drills.
Instructor Serin Elvenholt joined them, her calm voice filling the cold air.
"Resonance without control is suicide. Today, you learn channeling through steel."
Rows of practice swords gleamed on the rack — dull metal infused with neutral stone cores that could conduct energy safely.
Xander picked one up. The weight steadied him.
Serin motioned. "Focus. Let your resonance flow through, not around."
He inhaled, drew a spark of lightning, then a thread of water. The sword hummed, veins of blue and silver light pulsing along the blade.
Steam rose.
For a heartbeat, it looked alive.
Then the metal cracked.
The sword split in half, scattering fragments. Xander stumbled back, shaking.
Serin sighed. "Too much force. Remember, you're not fighting your elements — you're teaching them to share a vessel."
Mira leaned over, whispering, "Hey, at least you didn't melt the floor. That's improvement."
Nightfall
Later, after lights-out, Xander sat by the dorm window.
Velden's towers glowed in the distance; airships drifted between them like fireflies.
He could hear the faint buzz of surveillance drones outside.
Renn snored softly in the next bed. Mira was writing in a small notebook; Taro was disassembling one of his braces.
Xander whispered, "Do you ever think the Academy hides something from us?"
Mira looked up. "All the time. My mutation happened after a training simulation. They told me it was stress, but I remember the air smelled like chemicals."
Taro nodded. "They call us anomalies, but they never explain why there are so many of us every year."
Outside, a siren wailed faintly — a curfew warning.
Xander stared at the city lights, remembering the director's words: 'The system will shape him early.'
He gripped his hands together, faint sparks flickering between his fingers.
If the system made me, maybe I can unmake it.