Rian finally stepped into the dorm building.
The hallway buzzed with new students—some hauling backpacks, others dragging suitcases.
They dressed all over the map: shiny modern jackets on some, sporty gear on others.
Rian scratched his neck, scanning the scene as he moved quietly through the crowd.
In the middle of the hall, a staffer in a gray shirt and a worn apron was addressing a clump of teens.
His voice was firm but weary.
"Bathrooms are down the hall, split by gender. Keep 'em clean—we don't want headaches. Break something, you pay for it." He paused, pointing to a staircase on his right. "Your rooms are assigned—check your papers and don't skip tomorrow's ceremony."
Rian drifted closer to the group, hovering at the edge as the guy wrapped up.
Some students scattered once he finished, muttering among themselves.
"God, we already read the handbook," one griped, annoyed at the spiel.
"Ha, newbie, huh? If you only knew…"
Another girl with a long braid breezed past, glued to her phone without even glancing up.
Rian frowned, puzzled.
'Aren't they supposed to respect their elders?' he thought, scratching his cheek.
Back in the clan, brushing off someone like that would've earned a swift punishment.
The staffer sighed, adjusting his apron like he was used to the apathy.
Then he clocked Rian and a couple stragglers still lingering nearby, raising his voice again.
"Alright, for the ones who actually wanna hear it," he said, drier now, "I'll say it again: this dorm's co-ed, bathrooms at the end, take care of stuff or you'll foot the bill. Room numbers are on your papers, and if you need anything… ask."
He waved them off with a flick of his hand.
Rian stepped up as the others peeled away, dipping into a slight bow.
"Thanks," he said, voice calm but genuine.
The staffer blinked, caught off guard, then let out a low chuckle, scratching his neck.
"No need for that, kid," he said, warming up a bit.
A few passing students caught the exchange and snickered, whispering to each other.
"Look at that guy, straight outta temple school," one muttered, while another stifled a laugh.
"What, does he think sucking up to staff's gonna score him points?"
Rian ignored them, straightening up coolly.
"No, really," he pressed, tilting his head. "You're doing solid work. I got it all right off the bat." His tone was flat, but a thread of respect made the staffer raise a brow.
The guy barked a short laugh, smacking his chest with pride.
"Well, dang, for a young'un, you know how to treat your betters," he said, grinning crookedly. Then he beckoned Rian closer with a wave.
Rian stepped in.
"Here's a freebie tip," the staffer said, leaning in a bit. "Ignore the big shots who've been here a while. Only teachers or the head honcho can punish you around here, and only if you break the rules. Got it?"
"Thanks for the heads-up," Rian said with a small grin.
The staffer nodded, stuffing his hands into his apron pockets.
"If you want more, check the rules," he said, fishing out a crumpled little sheet from one pocket. He handed it to Rian with a quick flick. "It's all there."
The paper had tiny, barely legible print, and at the bottom sat a weird square with funky shapes like a puzzle.
Rian took it, squinting at it with a frown.
"What's this square?" he asked, pointing at it with a finger.
The staffer cracked up again, louder this time, clapping a hand over his mouth to hold it in.
"That's a QR code, kid," he said, voice shaky with amusement. "Scan it with your phone—it pulls up the full rules. That's just the CliffsNotes version."
Rian blinked, surprised, and dug into his tunic's inner pocket for the white phone Lena gave him.
"Oh," he mumbled, turning it over in his hands. "Guess this thing'll come in handy after all. Thanks."
The guy waved it off, brushing it aside.
"Don't mention it."
Rian stashed the paper and phone, tuning out the distant whispers of students still poking fun.
"Hey, did you hear what he asked?"
"Yeah, what a dumb question."
He headed for his room—17-B—dodging the crowd with quick, quiet steps.
The hall was alive with noise: laughter, footsteps, doors swinging open and shut.
When he reached his room, he turned the knob carefully and slipped in, shutting the door behind him—though it gave him a little grief.
The space was small but neat, a huge step up from the damp, grimy corner he slept in back at the clan.
The walls were a faded white, with tiny cracks spidering in the corners.
A plain wooden shelf hugged one wall, big enough for his stuff, and a narrow closet sat in the other corner.
Rian peeked into the closet and found a row of uniforms hanging: dark blue jackets and pants with a crest stitched on the chest.
'Nice color,' he thought, scratching his cheek as he ran his fingers over the fabric.
But what really grabbed his eye was the big thing hogging most of the room.
It was some raised platform, draped in a thick, soft-looking blue cloth, propped up by four stubby legs. On top sat a white lump that looked like a giant squashed sack.
Rian frowned, stepping back to size it up.
"What's this thing?" he muttered, tilting his head.
To him, it looked like an oversized, clunky chair eating up way too much space.
"There's barely any floor left with this," he grumbled, scratching his neck in annoyance.
Back in the clan, he slept on the ground with an old blanket—that was plenty. Whatever this was, it just got in the way.
Rian shook his head and dumped his meds and supplements on the shelf, along with the phone and rules paper, but not his cash.
'I'll figure out a hiding spot for that later,' he thought, yawning as he rubbed his eyes.
He was about to flop onto the floor by the shelf, scoping out a free corner to crash, when a loud bang rattled the door.
"Cowards! Only tough in a pack!" a shrill voice shouted—definitely a girl—followed by a deeper one mumbling something Rian couldn't catch.
Rian blinked, freezing for a sec, then sighed with a frown.
'What's going on now…?'