Hope didn't sleep.
Not really.
He had spent the entire night lying awake, his mind still haunted by the reflection's words. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt that cold, mocking gaze boring into him, whispering the same accusation over and over.
"You should have died with them."
So, when dawn finally arrived, he was more relieved than tired.
The bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through the dormitory.
Around him, his roommates stirred, groggy from sleep but moving with purpose. The muscular one stretched, yawning loudly, while the skinny one simply sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion.
The silver-haired girl—whom Hope still hadn't learned the name of—moved with calculated grace, as if she were always aware of her surroundings.
Hope sat up with a deep sigh, rubbing the exhaustion from his face.
He needed a bath.
And this time, he wasn't going to boil himself alive.
The Bathhouse
Unlike the first time he had woken up after his trial, Hope approached the communal bathhouse with caution. The memory of scalding himself in hot water was still too fresh in his mind.
The bathhouse was a massive space, separated into two sections—one for men, one for women. The walls were made of dark stone, and the air was thick with steam, carrying the scent of minerals and herbs.
Most of the other students were already inside, some chatting, others just bathing in silence.
Hope ignored them.
He found an empty spot, turned on the water, and made sure it was lukewarm this time before stepping in.
The warm water eased the tension in his muscles, but it did nothing to wash away his thoughts.
Kevin. Walker.
He had never said their names out loud since that day.
And now, his own mind was turning against him, throwing their faces and voices back at him like a curse.
He ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling sharply.
"Focus on the present."
That was all he could do.
After the bath, the students were led to the dining hall, where breakfast was already being served.
Hope's stomach growled.
Even after everything, food was still food.
He grabbed a tray and moved in line, his eyes scanning the meal for the day.
A cup of steaming tea, a single piece of bread, and an egg—except the egg wasn't from a bird.
The shell was darker, almost translucent, and the shape was slightly elongated. It had an irregular texture, as if it had been carved rather than laid.
"This isn't a normal egg, is it?" Hope asked as he took his portion.
The server, an older woman with a scar across her cheek, simply shook her head.
"Veil creature."
Hope frowned. "What kind?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, kid."
That was not reassuring.
Still—food was food.
He took a bite.
The texture was softer than a normal egg, almost like melted cheese, but it had a strangely rich flavor, like meat and eggs combined.
Hope blinked.
It was actually... good?
He finished his meal quickly, rejuvenated by the food, though a single egg and a piece of bread didn't feel like enough.
His only concern now was why didn't they serve a heavier meal?
They were about to train, right? Shouldn't they be eating something more substantial?
Before he could complain, the supervisor entered the hall, and the murmuring of students quieted down.
"Finish up. You will now be assigned to your respective training groups, as explained yesterday."
The announcement set things into motion.
The students were split into different classrooms, just as the supervisor had said before.
Hope followed the group he was assigned to, stepping into a large classroom. The walls were made of dark stone, just like the bathhouse, with old banners hanging from the ceiling. At the front of the room was a massive blackboard, covered in strange diagrams and notes written in white chalk.
A few instructors stood at the front, their expressions stern and unreadable.
Hope scanned the room.
Some students looked excited. Others looked nervous.
For Hope, he just felt... tired.
This was only the beginning.
And something told him that what came next wasn't going to be easy.