Dawn entered his dormitory in silence, his steps light, yet his presence weighed heavy with an unspoken gravity. The Trial of Origin had changed something within him—something fundamental. He had spent years drifting, avoiding confrontation, avoiding himself. But now, after that moment in the void, after seeing what lay at his core, he could no longer deny it. He could no longer pretend.
The room was spacious but practical, designed for two occupants. A single lantern flickered on the wall, casting soft shadows. A desk stood at each side, accompanied by neatly made beds. It was a place of study, rest, and camaraderie—at least, for those who sought it.
Dawn barely spared his surroundings a glance. He had no interest in unnecessary attachments. Instead, he sat at the desk and unfolded a thick scroll, detailing the Primordial Academy's curriculum. The contents were extensive, covering celestial studies, combat techniques, energy refinement, and history. He traced a finger over the ink, absorbing the names of courses, some familiar, others entirely foreign. He alsonlooked over the section detailing the paths a Prime can take, but he was not sure which he would take...or be able to take.
A voice disrupted his quiet contemplation.
"So, you're my dormmate."
Dawn didn't flinch, though he recognized the speaker instantly. Gary Amberson. The noble son, the prodigy, the one whose physique had been recorded as Astral Embodiment. He had heard the murmurs about him in the trial grounds—how he had exceeded expectations, how his path was already set for greatness.
Gary was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, regarding Dawn with something between curiosity and amusement. His golden hair was slightly tousled, his uniform pristine yet effortlessly worn. He had the air of someone who belonged here, someone who was used to attention and admiration.
Dawn, however, remained silent, waiting for Gary to continue or lose interest.
"You know," Gary went on, stepping further into the room, "I'm used to people trying to befriend me. Or challenge me. Or at the very least, acknowledge me."
Dawn turned a page of his scroll.
Gary chuckled. "Alright, I get it. You're not impressed."
"It's not that," Dawn said finally, his voice measured. "I simply don't see the point in needless socializing."
"Is that so?" Gary sat down on his own bed, eyeing him. "Then tell me—what's your deal? No one talks about you. No one even seemed to notice you during the trials. And yet, here you are. That's not normal."
Dawn sighed inwardly. He had expected curiosity, but he hadn't anticipated Gary's persistence.
"I'm just another student," he said. "Same as you. I came here to study and progress not to make friends."
Gary laughed outright at that. "No, you're not. And we both know it."
Dawn didn't reply, letting the silence stretch. If Gary wanted to unravel his mystery, he was welcome to try. But he would find nothing—at least, nothing Dawn was willing to share.
A knock on their door interrupted the exchange.
"All students report to the Grand Archives immediately," a voice called out. "The annual lecture begins soon."
Dawn folded the scroll, rising. Without a word, he exited the dormitory, Gary falling into step beside him.
---
The Grand Archives were a vast, towering hall filled with rows upon rows of ancient tomes and scrolls. The scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle hum of energy that radiated from the walls. At the very center stood an elevated platform, where a figure in dark robes awaited them.
The instructor in charge of the lecture was a calm and analytical middle aged woman, her face lined with the barest of crow feets that hints at her age in her otherwise flawlessly beautiful face. Her presence commanded silence before she even spoke. The students gathered, their whispers fading as they took their seats.
"Welcome," the instructor intoned, her voice reverberating through the chamber. "You have endured the Three Trials, and now, you stand at the threshold of true learning."
Her gaze swept over them, lingering for just a breath on certain students—Gary, Luna, a few others. She did not look at Dawn.
"The Primordial Academy is more than a place of knowledge. It is a legacy. A foundation upon which the strongest Primes have risen. It is here that the First of Primes once walked, forging the path that we now follow."
Dawn listened, but his mind wandered. The First of Primes… He had heard the name before, in whispers, in forgotten texts. He felt an odd pull at the words, as if something buried deep within him was stirring.
"The Celestial Battlefield," the instructor continued, "is a realm beyond mortal understanding. It is where the Primes of old waged war against the darkness that sought to consume this world. It is where countless warriors fell, and where legends were born."
A murmur swept through the students. Everyone had heard of the battlefield, but to speak of it in such tangible terms was different. It made it real. It made it inevitable.
The instructor raised a hand, silencing them. "You will learn of these things in time. But for now, understand this—your strength, your power, your very existence as a Prime is not a privilege. It is a duty. And to fulfill it, you must cultivate your essence. You must walk the Path of Primes."
A sharp tension filled the air. This was the moment they had been waiting for. The true beginning of their journey.
The instructor let the silence stretch before she spoke again.
"And so, we shall begin. I am Lysandra, 5he head instructor of Grand Archives, also known as Keeper of Lores. Today we shall discuss about the Paths of Prime and how to ascend. The path is long, but the consolidated Wisdom of our forefathers will help you, at least giving ypu a headstart. "
Dawn exhaled slowly. The path ahead was set. But whether he would walk it, or forge his own, remained to be seen.
To Be Continued
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