Dormitory 9 didn't float with the grace of the other islands. It hung off the edge of the Academy's main landmass like a loose tooth, tethered by rusting chains that groaned with every gust of wind.
Ren walked across the sway-bridge connecting the main campus to this floating slum. The air here was thinner, colder. The pristine marble of the Ascension Gate was replaced by rotting wood and patches of moss that smelled of sulfur and old socks.
"Home sweet hell," Ren muttered.
He adjusted the strap of his pack. The Ring of Weight inside his bones hummed, reacting to the instability of the island. He had to constantly micro-adjust his internal mass just to keep the rotting floorboards from snapping under his density.
He reached Room 904. The door was hanging off one hinge. Someone had carved "TRASH" into the wood with a knife.
Ren didn't knock. He kicked the door open.
The room was a disaster zone.
It was meant for two people, but one half was completely buried under piles of scrap metal, cogwheels, and half-disassembled mana crystals. The smell of grease and ozone was overpowering.
In the center of the chaos sat a girl. She was short, with wild, copper-colored hair tied back in a messy bun. Her skin was smudge-stained with soot, and she wore a pair of oversized goggles that magnified her amber eyes.
She was tinkering with a metallic sphere that hissed ominously.
"Get out," she said without looking up. Her voice was rough, like gravel in a mixer. "I'm testing a pressure valve. If you distract me, we both explode."
Ren stepped inside, closing the broken door behind him. He looked at the girl—a Half-Dwarf. A rare mix. Too tall for the dwarves, too stout for humans. Outcasts by nature.
"If it explodes," Ren said, walking to the empty bed on the far side, "aim it away from my bed."
The girl froze. She looked up, pushing her goggles onto her forehead. She glared at him.
"You're the new meat? The F-Rank who broke the bell?"
"News travels fast," Ren said, dropping his bag.
"I'm Vara," she said, pointing a wrench at him. "This side of the room is mine. That side is yours. If you touch my tools, I'll weld your eyelids shut. If you snore, I'll suffocate you. Are we clear?"
Ren looked at the chaotic pile of machinery. His Abyss Markings tingled. The mana flow in her gadgets was chaotic but brilliant. She wasn't just fixing things; she was bypassing safety regulators to increase output.
"A reckless artificer," Ren noted. "Useful."
"I'm not reckless," Vara snapped. "I'm ambitious. There's a difference."
BANG.
The door flew open again, hitting the wall with a crack.
Three students stood in the hallway. They wore the blue uniforms of D-Rank Mage students. Not elites, but high enough to look down on the Scrap Heap.
"Tax collection!" the leader, a lanky boy with a wand tucked behind his ear, sneered. "New semester, new rules. Every F-Rank pays 50 gold credits for 'protection'."
Vara groaned, picking up her wrench. "Not these idiots again. Get lost, Kaelen. I spent all my money on copper wire."
"Then we'll take the wire," Kaelen said, stepping into the room. His two lackeys followed, their hands glowing with weak Wind and Water magic.
Ren sat on his bed, unlacing his boots. He didn't look up.
"Hey, Bell-Boy," Kaelen barked, turning to Ren. "I heard you have strong muscles. Shame muscles don't stop wind blades."
Ren placed his boots neatly on the floor. He stood up.
"Vara," Ren said calmly. "That sphere you're holding. It's a mana-compressor, right?"
Vara blinked. "Yeah. So?"
"The regulator pin is loose. If you were to, say, drop it..."
Vara's eyes widened. A wicked grin spread across her soot-stained face.
"Don't ignore me!" Kaelen shouted, raising his wand. "Wind Bullet!"
A compressed ball of air shot toward Ren's chest.
Ren didn't dodge. He simply leaned forward.
Internal Art: Mass Anchor.
The air bullet hit his chest and dispersed like smoke hitting a wall. Ren didn't move a millimeter. His density was currently set to that of a lead statue.
He looked at Kaelen. His eyes, deep-set and black, bored into the bully's soul.
"You came to collect a tax," Ren said, his voice dropping an octave. "But you forgot to check if the vault was guarded."
He took one step.
THOOM.
The entire room shook. The floorboards under Ren's foot splintered. The sudden shift in weight caused the floating island to tilt slightly.
Kaelen and his lackeys stumbled, losing their balance as the floor pitched beneath them.
"Vara," Ren said. "Drop it."
Vara laughed maniacally and tossed the metallic sphere toward the door.
"Fire in the hole!"
The sphere hit the ground. It didn't explode with fire; it exploded with Force. A concussive wave of pure kinetic energy blasted outward.
Ren stood still, letting his mass absorb the shockwave. The bullies, however, were not so lucky. They were blasted backward out of the door, tumbling into the hallway in a tangle of limbs and bruised egos.
Ren walked to the door and picked up the sphere, which was now smoking. He tossed it back to Vara.
"Stabilize the core with cold iron, not copper," Ren advised. "Copper conducts too fast. It overheats."
Vara caught the sphere, staring at him with her mouth open. "How do you know that? You're a muscle-head F-Rank."
"I read," Ren lied. He closed the door and wedged a chair under the handle.
Vara looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. She saw the rusted sword wrapped in cloth. She saw the terrifying stillness in his posture.
"You're not normal, are you?" Vara whispered.
"Normal gets you killed," Ren replied. He sat back on his bed. "I need someone who can work with Star-Metal. Can you do it?"
Vara hesitated, then nodded slowly. "If you get the materials. But Star-Metal is restricted. Only the Student Council has access."
"I'll get it," Ren said.
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. His Nature Sense, amplified by the thin air, scanned the room.
There.
In the corner of the ceiling, hidden behind a cobweb, was a small crystal rune. It was pulsing faintly.
A surveillance bug.
The signature on the rune was unmistakable. It was a Light affinity rune.
Sir Alaric.
Ren smiled. The Head of Security was thorough. He bugged the F-Rank dorms, likely to monitor for potential uprisings or illegal trades.
Ren didn't destroy it. If he destroyed it, Alaric would know he had been found out.
Instead, Ren tapped his finger against the bedframe.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He sent a rhythmic vibration through the floor, a low frequency that would cause the crystal to vibrate just enough to distort the audio it recorded. To the listener, it would sound like constant static.
"Welcome to Sky Haven," Ren whispered to himself. "Let the games begin."