[Engineering Department - Dean's Office]
The heavy oak doors of the Dean's office weren't enough to contain the storm brewing inside. Outside in the hallway, several students had stopped in their tracks, pretending to check their terminals while actually eavesdropping on the most explosive academic debate of the semester.
"It is a matter of basic thermodynamics, Professor!" Joshua's voice rang out, sharp and defiant. "The Arc Reactor doesn't just 'compete' with Originium; it renders the current energy grid obsolete. You are refusing to fund the future because you're terrified of the present!"
"I am refusing to fund a fantasy, Mr. Obsidian!" the Professor barked back, his voice thick with a mix of exhaustion and disdain. "Your 'Nullification' trait has blinded you to reality. You are asking for a grant that could fund three Caster research wings for a device that relies on a theoretical isotope we can't even safely mass-produce. Theoretical physics does not pay the university's heating bill!"
"Because the university is satisfied with a heating bill paid in the blood of the Infected!" Joshua snapped.
There was a long, ringing silence.
A moment later, the door swung open. Joshua marched out, his face a mask of controlled fury, his knuckles white as he clutched his leather satchel. He didn't look back as the Professor shouted one last dismissal about "unregulated engineering."
[The Campus Walkway]
"That was quite the performance, Joshua. I believe the Echoes of your 'discussion' reached the third-floor labs."
Joshua stopped, taking a deep breath to settle his racing heart. Leaning against a stone pillar was a young man with impeccably combed hair and a suit that cost more than a year of dorm rent. He had a sharp, calculating gaze and a polite, almost practiced smile.
Ferdinand Clooney.
Joshua looked at him and felt a strange pang of responsibility. In the timeline he remembered, Ferdinand would become a cold, ruthless director—the man behind the tragedies of 'Dorothy's Vision.' To prevent that future, Joshua had approached him early in the semester, expecting a difficult, icy social battle.
To his surprise, the "ice" had never existed. Ferdinand, driven by a hunger for pure innovation, had taken to Joshua's ideas instantly. They had become close friends in weeks—a bond of two ambitious minds trying to outpace the world.
"Ferdinand," Joshua sighed, his tension easing as he fell into step with his friend. "I assume you're here to tell me I was too aggressive?"
"On the contrary," Ferdinand said, his voice smooth and thoughtful. "I found your argument about the efficiency loss in current Caster-based generators to be… compelling. Though, I must admit, the Professor had a valid point regarding the capital risk. Trimounts is a business, Joshua. They don't invest in miracles; they invest in dividends."
"I know," Joshua admitted with a frown. "And I hate that he's right about the palladium centrifuge. To prove him wrong, I need the very equipment he's refusing to fund. It's a closed loop."
Ferdinand hummed, adjusting his glasses. "Mixed opinions, then. His caution is pragmatism, but your vision is progress. Precision requires gold, my friend. It's a shame—a mind like yours shouldn't be limited by a ledger."
[Dorm Room 402 - Evening]
The domestic warmth of the dorm was a sharp contrast to the cold office of the Dean. The smell of beef stew filled the air, but the mood was somber as Joshua sat at the communal table with Saria, Kristen, and Muelsyse.
"So, they officially cut the grant?" Saria asked, her hand resting over Joshua's in a silent show of support. Her tail flicked irritably against her chair, reflecting her silent anger at the University's shortsightedness.
"No funds, no centrifuge," Joshua stirred his tea gloomily.
"The Professor's refusal is logically consistent with Columbia's current economic reliance on Originium exports," Kristen added from her desk, her voice a cold constant in the room. "However, it is a 92% setback to our projected timeline. Without a new capital influx, the Arc Reactor remains a desk ornament."
"Unless..." Muelsyse chirped, suddenly appearing behind Joshua and draping her arms over his shoulders. She waved a colorful digital flyer in front of his face. "You use your other talent!"
[Trimounts Annual Sound & Light Competition]
Grand Prize: 500,000 Gold certificate Research Grant & Corporate Sponsorship.
"A music competition?" Saria asked, her eyes widening. She looked at Joshua, her face flushing slightly as she thought of his private performances. "But... the secret? If people realize Joshua is 'The Echo'..."
"That's the best part!" Muelsyse giggled, poking Joshua's cheek. "The rules allow participants to conceal their identity to 'focus on the purity of the sound.' You could wear a mask, use a holographic avatar—whatever! You win the money as a mystery artist, and then you use that money as the 'Engineering Student' Joshua Obsidian. It's the perfect heist!"
Joshua stared at the flyer. 500,000 Gold certificate. It was a king's ransom.
"I'd have to perform in front of the whole university," Joshua whispered. "Even with a mask... the risk is huge."
"But the reward is the future," Kristen noted, finally looking up. Her golden eyes were fixed on him with a rare intensity. "If you win, the University cannot legally deny the grant source. It is an independent fund. You would be untouchable."
Joshua looked at Saria. She nodded slowly, her hand squeezing his. "I'll be backstage. I'll make sure the security stays tight."
Joshua took a deep breath and slammed his hand on the table. "Alright. I'm in."
The following week was a blur of grease and guitar strings.
Every night, after the workshop had been cleaned and the servers were humming quietly, Joshua would take center stage in the living room. He practiced a new arrangement—a song that blended the soul of his old world with the struggle of Terra.
Saria and Muelsyse were his constant audience. Saria would sit on the rug, her chin in her hands, watching him with an intensity that made Joshua's heart race more than the Dean's shouting ever could. Muelsyse would dance around with her water constructs, creating rhythmic splashes that acted as a natural percussion.
Even Kristen started leaving her door open. She would sit at her desk, her pens stilled, listening as the "Nullifier" filled the room with a resonance that no Originium Art could ever replicate.
As Joshua hit the final high note of his rehearsal, the room fell into a rare, peaceful silence.
"You're going to win," Saria whispered, her eyes shining in the blue glow of the prototype reactor in the corner.
"We're going to win," Joshua corrected, looking at his team—the Genius, the Elf, and the Defender. "I'm just the one with the microphone."