If Lucas had to sum up Nanyang Design University in one word, it wouldn't be prestigious—it would be orchestrated.
From the moment he stepped into Lyra Hall, everything felt staged. The dramatic lighting, the ambient music—custom-designed by students in the Department of Sonic Environments—echoed like a film score. Even the way the sunlight streamed through the geometric glass panels felt… intentional. Scripted.
Hana led the way down the center aisle, past rows of ultra-modern seats filling up fast with the university's brightest—and most dangerous—minds.
"Seats 27 and 28," she whispered, guiding him to the second row, dead center.
"How did we get these again?" Lucas muttered as he sat.
"I hacked the seat reservation system," she replied casually, adjusting the silver cuff on her blazer.
Lucas shot her a glance.
"What?"
"You say that like you reordered room service."
Her lips twitched. "Maybe I did both."
A female voice suddenly echoed across the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen—Lyra Scholars."
The hall dimmed, and the towering display behind the stage lit up with a burst of gold, revealing the words: "Welcome, Visioneers."
A woman stepped onto the stage, her presence magnetic. Professor Evelyn Tang, Dean of Visual Strategy and the youngest department head in university history. She wore a sculpted white jumpsuit and heels that made no sound—only her words carried weight.
"This year," she said, eyes scanning the crowd like a hunter, "we don't just welcome brilliance. We demand disruption."
The students erupted into polite, subdued applause—the elite kind.
Lucas clapped with them but barely heard a word after that. Because his eye—his one good eye—was drawn to a figure standing behind the stage's curtain for just a second.
A silhouette. Tall. Still.
Watching.
He blinked.
Gone.
Next to him, Hana leaned slightly closer. "You saw that too?"
Lucas didn't answer. He didn't have to.