Amira looked surprised, almost pleasantly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a gentle rise in her tone.

There was something about the way Amira spoke that caused every situation to feel softer. Her tone was calm, delicate, and extremely composed. Even now, with her surprise showing, there was no clumsy panic in it.

She simply looked at him with open interest, her dark straight hair falling over one shoulder before she swept it back with a quick motion, fully opening the door for him.

Lancet lifted the key slightly. "I’m moving in here," he said. "I just got promoted."

Amira’s brows rose. "Promoted?" she repeated, as though she wanted to hear it again just to make sure it was real.

Lancet nodded and held up his new room assignment form. "Gold Dorm. Room 222."

Amira looked at the paper, then at him, then smiled a little more openly. If Lancet wasn’t crazy, he would have thought that she was really happy for him, or really happy to see him.

"Come in," she said, stepping aside immediately.

Lancet gave her a polite nod and stepped through the doorway.

The room opened up around him at once, and for a moment he had to stop just to take it in. Because it was bloody enormous.

Not merely larger than the Bronze Dorm room he had just left, but so much larger that the difference almost felt insulting.

In the Bronze Dorm, the room had always seemed crowded no matter how few people were in it. Space had always felt like a luxury there, something the dorm could never quite afford.

Here, space was simply part of the design.

The room was broad and open, with a high ceiling, clean white-and-gold walls and refined architecture. Light came in through large polished windows that softened the whole chamber with a calm, luxurious brightness.

The shiny furniture was arranged with clear thought behind it, leaving wide pathways between each section of the room so that nobody felt boxed in by anyone else’s presence.

Rather than bunks, there were four beds, one placed in each corner of the room, separated by curtains that could be drawn for privacy and given enough personal space around it that it felt almost like a room inside a room.

Each bed had its own small desk, its own lamp, its own storage unit, and enough floor space nearby to make movement easy.

Lancet stood there for a moment longer than he meant to, taking in the stunning space before him. Everything about the place announced that the academy expected the students living here to behave like people of rank.

"Oi."

Lancet looked to his right.

A girl was lying back on one of the beds, one elbow propped up as she turned toward him.

Her dark hair fell around her shoulders in loose, slightly untidy strands, and the heavy, smoky shape of her dark eyeshadow only deepened the impression that she had walked out of some gloomy, elegant corner of the night and simply decided to live there.

Her expression was naturally subdued, permanently shaded with a quiet kind of gloom, but there was no lack of awareness in it. If anything, she seemed to be observing everything more carefully than most.

"Min Tu?" Lancet recognized with a raise of one of his blonde brow "Hey."

Min Tu nodded plainly. "You’re really moving in?"

"Looks like it."

She gave him a once-over. "You look taller."

Lancet’s face flattened, then turned pink for some unknown reason. A sound from the other side of the room thankfully drew his attention.

Someone else was sitting up in another bed, half-hidden by the curtain. He pushed it aside just enough to peer out, and Lancet immediately recognized him as a Healer Mage.

He had a soft face, a tidy build, and an overall appearance that made him look far too gentle for the kind of world they lived in.

He waved at Lancet. "Hey," he said. "You’re Lancet, right?"

Lancet nodded back. "Yeah."

The Healer Mage smiled mildly. "I’m Soren."

"Nice to meet you," Lancet replied.

’Looks like this room is split between two Summoner Class Group students and two Enchanter Class Group students,’ he said in his thoughts. ’And it has two girls, and two guys. The arrangement is more balanced than it is back in the Bronze Dorm.’

Back there, all of them had been from the same group. Here, the room seemed built around compatibility instead of simple convenience.

Amira stepped farther in and gestured toward a corner. "You can take that bed. It’s next to mine."

Lancet wondered for a second while she had to point that last part out, but he thought it was best not to think about it.

But what was up with her really?

At that moment, with her hands behind her back, Amira was looking at him with a soft, composed expression, her attention resting on him in a way that was just warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Lancet cleared his throat and looked away first, mostly to keep himself from thinking too much about it.

"Thanks," he said, reminding himself that he didn’t want to get involved with Lancet’s business.

He crossed the room to the bed she had indicated and stared at it for a second. It was genuinely comfortable-looking. Better mattress. Better frame. Better curtain placement. Even the little desk beside it was sturdier and more polished than anything he had been used to in the Bronze Dorm.

The difference was absurd.

’I guess I’m really moving up in the world,’ he thought.

He reached out and ran a hand along the edge of the bedframe before glancing back at the others.

"I’m going to get my things," he said.

"Okay," Soren replied easily, already settling back into his own space.

Min Tu pulled her curtain partway closed. "We’re not going anywhere."

Amira simply smiled. "Use the key when you return," she said. "Best get used to it fast."

Lancet smiled shortly. "That’s true."

××××××

Lancet took another rider. The moment he entered the room, Kasto looked up first.

His face changed at once, excited for a second, then sad. Anita looked over a second later and immediately picked up on the same thing.

Luke was still on his bed, comic book in hand, face partly covered by the page he was reading, though Lancet could tell he had heard the door open.

Kasto watched him for a moment, then let out a small breath. "So it’s really goodbye, huh?"

Lancet shook his head. "It’s not goodbye, Kasto. I’m just moving rooms."

Anita pouted. "It still feels like goodbye."

Lancet looked at her for a second before answering. "We still hang out in class. We’re not disappearing from each other."

Kasto nodded slowly, trying to keep up his usual cheer. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. You’re just moving up."

Lancet smiled faintly. "Exactly."

He started gathering the first few things he needed from his side of the room, but the atmosphere had shifted enough now that nobody was pretending not to feel it.

Kasto looked down, then back up at him. "You’ve done a lot for us, Lancet."

Lancet paused briefly, then waved a hand as if to brush the sentiment off. "We all survived the same mess."

"Still," Kasto said quietly. "It’s not the same."

Anita nodded once, her eyes a little dimmer than usual. "It won’t be the same anymore."

Lancet did not answer right away.

He could feel the truth of it, and he hated how much that made the room feel smaller than it was.

Then he looked over at Luke.

Luke had not said anything.

He was still on the bed, comic in hand, his face hidden behind it as though nothing about the conversation required his attention. He did not look up. He did not move. He did not react.

Lancet tried not to let that bother him. He tried.

But even as he packed the last of his things, he could feel the silence coming from Luke like a wall.

He straightened and turned toward the door. "See you guys in class," he said.

Kasto lifted a hand. "Yeah. Definitely."

Anita gave him a small wave. "Don’t forget us."

Lancet smiled faintly at that. "As if I could."

Then he looked once more at Luke’s bed. Luke still had not lowered the comic.

Lancet stayed there for one more beat, then turned and left the room.

Only when the door closed behind him did Luke finally move.

He lowered the comic just enough to reveal his face, and the expression there was not empty.

It was angry, yes, but it was the kind of anger that sat on top of something else, something much harder to show without feeling exposed. Sadness sat beneath it, quiet and stubborn.

His eyes remained fixed on the door a moment longer after Lancet was gone, as if he were deciding whether to get up, call after him, or do nothing at all.

In the end, he only lay there and glared.