Faoros believed in what friendship could accomplish. They had collaborated on sports, lab experiments, and homework. What he never expected was that they would also help him in breaking the academy’s laws; even if he trapped them to do so. Back when he was a mere student, he had stepped near the line one too many times. Now, he had to step over it.

  The moon reigned over Etal Academy, when it spelled Faoros’ first failure. The parks and plazas were empty, and even the school dorms were silent. Apart from a few classes that had gone on longer than necessary for students and teachers alike, almost no one was awake. Faoros was the only student stupid enough to wait outside a teacher’s office for over five hours. He had submitted a ticket to see Miss Tite and waited patiently for her return. He had only gone to the Cafeteria briefly to grab a sandwich and a cup of coffee before returning to his post. All to no avail. She never returned to her office and had no intention of doing so. With silence as her answer, Arom’s plan failed before it could begin. His idea had been to contact Miss Tite and arrange a formal meeting with Miss Vione or Mr. Rino the next day. Faoros thought it unlikely to succeed, but he didn’t expect not to meet with Miss Tite, especially since she had instructed him to come to her office for any problems.

  After the last classes ended, the few remaining students returned to their rooms to relax. Night had fallen over Etal Academy. Faoros had followed suit and returned to B13 to change clothes, but there was no time for him to relax. He wore a pair of pajamas and sat cross-legged on his bed. If Belo or Arom had been near him, they would have noticed the strange expression on his face. It bordered on delight and fear; his lips trembled, unable to form a smile, and his eyes remained unblinking. Numerous thoughts washed over him.

  Belo’s plan was simpler than Arom’s, and it had a higher probability of success; it was also within the academy’s rules Following his advice, Faoros placed the white patch back on his arm and tried to communicate directly with Miss Vione. However, three hours had passed with no reaction from the patch. Having fulfilled the first part of the deal, Belo believed that he could learn his next objective, and, with some luck, gain insight into the third. Aselom would have to work with that. Faoros stayed awake that night and regularly spoke to the patch. He hoped to receive a reply, but no response came. He checked the patch twice for any problems and even tested it with his tools to see if electricity could pass through it. There were no issues at all. Throughout the night, the thought that fate willed him to take risks returned occasionally to his mind.

  The sun succeeded the moon in its eternal course, and the students of Etal Academy flooded its grounds again. Many of them rushed to their classes with loose shoelaces, while a few had chosen to skip their lessons to enjoy lunch. Etal Academy brimmed with life, whether in the parks or plazas. Faoros was jealous, watching his younger schoolmates experience the life he had enjoyed for years, but time was against him. There was no time to grab coffee, rest in their hidden spot in the park, or play in the plaza. He had to run to the Cafeteria. He didn’t greet anyone, entering Etal Academy like a maniac and charging through the halls and corridors. He didn’t even apologize when he bumped into a few students. The truth was, most of them evaded greeting him, too. His shoelaces were loose, his belt was untied, and his hair was uncombed. A few stray hairs covered his vision, and his jeans barely stayed up. He was quite a sight. Ignoring these trivial matters, he entered the Cafeteria, scanning the tables until his gaze finally rested on Arom and Belo. His friends quickly noticed his heavy steps, and Belo frowned as soon as he saw him.

  “You didn’t even change your T-shirt. It’s the same one you wore yesterday. I can see the dirt on it.” Belo gulped hard, his fingers dancing impatiently on the wooden table.

  “We didn’t order coffee this time. We thought it would be best to wait for your news first.” Arom grabbed a chair for Faoros. “The plan—did it succeed? Or did Belo have the honor this time?”

  He didn’t speak at first. He sat down and closed his eyes. He inwardly cursed himself. There were fewer than three hours until he had to return to the Game, and two out of three plans had failed. The day before, each of them had proposed an idea, and they had agreed to save Faoros’ brilliant plan for last; and not without reason.

  “So, will you tell us, or are you planning on masquerading as a Lord for long?” Arom insisted.

  “Fine!” He patted Belo on the shoulder. “As promised, I tried both plans to the best of my ability, but fate simply did not favor you two. Now it’s time for Faoros’ Initiative Action!”

  *

  Faoros paused in front of a familiar statue. He stared intently at the figure of Wineom that decorated the open hall before Mr. Rino’s office.

  “Did this great man take similar risks with his life to rise to his position? Did he make tough decisions to reform the Game and influence its development? His eyes betray that much. He has seen things I cannot even imagine. Was he in line or against his own academy back then?” Faoros asked the lifeless statue. Up until now, his life had been as carefree as possible. He studied when he wanted, shaped his own dreams, and worked on projects he liked. Whenever he needed a break, he simply skipped classes and rested. A few scoldings from his teachers were a small price to pay for this degree of freedom. He had found a way around them. Yet, this was the first time in his life that his decisions would have real consequences. He wouldn’t get away with just a scolding. Every choice before him could drastically ruin or improve his life. Was this not the essence of taking a risk?

  “Guess, that’s where curiosity takes someone.” Faoros had never let this trait of his down. Nonetheless, this was the first time in his life that the questions raised and rivalled each other. He was torn between his desire for a carefree life with unlimited potential and his wish to make great inventions and cure the Curse. To this, the raven-haired woman stood atop, smirking mischievously at him. He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes as he passed by Wineom’s statue, the long scar on his neck bringing him the chills and climbed the stairs to Mr. Rino’s office. He knocked twice and waited patiently. This was their last plan, Faoros’ plan.

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  “I don’t have any appointments scheduled,” Mr. Rino replied hoarsely.

  “It is Faoros. I wish to speak with you, Mr. Rino,” he said, trying to sound firm but he quickly added. “If you have time for a quick meeting… Mr. Vice-Principal.”

  “Proceed.”

  Faoros opened the door and quickly averted his gaze from the large window overlooking Etal Academy, fixing it on Mr. Rino and his desk. There was nothing unusual about it. The Vice-Principal had a closed notebook in front of him, with his pen lying on top of it.

  “I apologize for interrupting your work.” Faoros bowed slightly and waited for Mr. Rino’s instructions.

  “You may sit down. It is strange for a student to enter a class unregistered. Even with your reputation, that is unbefitting.” Mr. Rino fixed his gaze on Faoros. He wore a white shirt, and the clock on his left hand ticked steadily. “Explain.”

  “It’s indirectly linked to the Lord. I didn’t have the time or means to find her, so I chose to recklessly visit you. Please excuse me,” Faoros shouted, bowing his head so that his hair rested on Mr. Rino’s desk.

  “Raise your head. We wouldn’t dare displease Miss Vione. You did well to visit me.”

  “Thank you very much!” Faoros raised his head and looked at Mr. Rino with watery eyes. “I fulfilled my first assignment from Miss Vione and was ready to return to my Pilot, but the backlash from last time haunts me. I thought I would get over it, but now that it is time to return to the Game, my hands are trembling, and I can barely stand. I asked my teacher if I could get the Pilot home yesterday, but she said it was impossible. I don’t know what to do! I don’t want to disappoint Miss Vione. She offered me such a brilliant opportunity, but I can’t fulfill her wishes…” Tears washed down his face, and his breathing was labored.

  “Don’t worry about it. The Game is horrifying. We will get through it together. I will assign someone to adjust your Pilot’s settings. You are not the first student who didn’t fully adapt after the trial period. How much time remains until your next immersion?” Mr. Rino replied warmly and leaned back in his chair. Hearing about Faoros’ problem helped him relax. Faoros knew it didn’t sound serious enough to bother Miss Vione. He made the Vice-Principal think he could easily resolve it with a simple order. But he didn’t want that.

  “There’s about an hour, Mr. Rino. I was afraid and lost a lot of time thinking about what to do!” Faoros lowered his head again, letting his forehead clack against the desk. It would leave a mark, but it was worth it. “Sorry, I am at a loss!”

  “What? What did you say?” Mr. Rino pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. He grabbed his suit and put it on without saying a word. “What are you standing there for? A flawed Pilot is a flawed education. I shall realign the settings personally.”

  *

  As he waited for Mr. Rino to adjust his pilot, Faoros’ anxiety surged. He had reached the final part of his plan, which should have been the easiest, yet he was the most worried. He didn’t know how long the adjustments would take, so he had to wait for the final act to begin.

  “Help! Someone, please come to Pilot Fourteen! There is a problem!” a teacher called out for help, his face absentminded, but his voice loud and clear.

  “This academy is filled with tiny obstructions. It is our duty to fix them.” Mr. Rino took the opportunity to speak while he adjusted a setting on his Pilot.

  Faoros had an idea from Miss Vione about these settings, but nothing concrete. Nonetheless, he guessed that messing with them could cause problems. And that is what they did. Before Mr. Rino could speak again, Faoros’ phone rang loudly, its repetitive ringtone echoing through the Station.

  “I need a few more minutes. Proceed with your call,” Mr. Rino muttered and pushed another button.

  Faoros picked up the call just as the teacher began shouting desperately for help. He could barely hear Arom on the other end, but there was no need to understand his words. He swiftly hung up and touched Mr. Rino’s suit with shaking hands. “I need to go, Vice-Principal. My younger friend is not feeling well. I am afraid! I’m afraid of the Curse! I need to check on him before I enter the Game!”

  Even Mr. Rino was caught off guard by his words. “You have less than half an hour. Where is he? There is no time. These are the rules! You’re a student, not an adult, understand?”

  “But, Mr. Rino, he’s in the Cafeteria near the entrance. It won’t take that long. I’ll climb the stairs as fast as I can. Please, do me this favor. I won’t be able to shake these worries until I exit the Game again. Please...”

  Mr. Rino lowered a lever inside the pilot and pressed his palms against its metal exterior. Another teacher joined the first and they called out for help in unison. The silent Station turned into pandemonium. There was discord spreading among the sleeping faces of the students. Mr. Rino snatched a glance at the teachers and then looked at Faoros, his lips curving slightly. Faoros wasn’t sure if Mr. Rino was irritated or pleased with the situation.

  “Go ahead. By the time I fix these issues you will be back. You won’t be late.”

  “Thank you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he was already running outside the Station. He heard Mr. Rino complain that there weren’t enough staff at the academy while he walked toward the two teachers. Faoros wanted to agree with him, but he was the real reason behind Belo’s malfunctioning Pilot; they simply messed up the settings. They simply lowered the values and the closer they were to zero the greater the problem; that was common knowledge in Etal Academy.

  “Never trust the zeroes,” Faoros repeated like a charm the common saying before stopping halfway toward the Cafeteria. He quickly entered the first bathroom on his way. He knocked on the door of the first stall, and someone on the other side knocked back. Without a second thought, Faoros entered.

  Arom stood there and smiled deviously. His black T-shirt was covered in sweat, and he held a pack of precious papers in his hands. “Stop—did you think I would fail? Guess what the great Arom is capable of!” His smile widened, and he pushed the papers into Faoros’ hands.

  “Did you check them? Do we have everything we need here?” Faoros asked anxiously. He didn’t have enough time to check them carefully. Arom didn’t reply. Instead, he waited for his friend to finish inspecting them.

  “Oh, he truly keeps his correspondence on paper,” Faoros muttered, his breathing growing ragged. “Oh, oh!” He met Arom’s gaze. “Who in the Lords’ name is the raven-haired?”

  “That’s what I would ask normally.” Arom shrugged and took back the stack of letters.

  “We should hurry back,” Faoros said, but, turning to leave, he stopped at the last moment. He had succeeded, but these letters created a contradiction within him. By opposing Miss Vione, he was afraid of the consequences. However, these letters revealed a new reality. “It seems Vione Unbound and I have the same objective after all.”

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