Arlen woke to a knock at the door.
It kept coming.
He sat up, disoriented. Morning light through the window. A day off.
Another knock.
"Arlen!" Sora's voice. "Wake up!"
Arlen got up and opened the door.
Sora stood there, grinning, fully awake.
"Morning. Get dressed. I'll be in the dining hall."
Arlen blinked.
"What?"
"We're going to the city." Sora was already turning away. "Hurry up!"
The door closed.
Arlen stood there for a moment. Then sighed.
He got dressed. The uniform. It was all he had.
The dining hall was emptier than usual. Day off. Most people were still asleep.
Nira sat alone, a cup of something warm in front of her.
Arlen walked over and sat.
She looked at him.
"He woke you up too."
Arlen nodded.
"Yeah."
Nira took a sip.
"He's unbearable when he's excited."
Arlen smiled.
They sat in silence.
Not uncomfortable. Just… still.
Then Sora showed up, already energized.
"Ready?" he said, dropping into his seat. "We're heading straight to the city. Food stalls in the First Ring. We'll eat there."
Nira looked at him.
"We're not eating here?"
"No. I want real food. From the city." Sora grinned. "Come on."
Arlen and Nira exchanged a glance.
Then nodded.
Administration was a gray building with no decoration.
Inside, a short line of students waited to collect their money.
When it was Arlen's turn, the man behind the counter handed him a small leather pouch.
"Here. Twenty silver coins. Don't spend them all at once."
Arlen looked at the pouch. Heavier than expected.
Sora was already counting his.
"Twenty? Is that… a lot or not?"
Nira shrugged.
"We'll find out."
They stepped outside.
Just before the Academy gates, two guards stopped them.
"Wait."
Arlen stopped.
The guard pulled out three cloth bands. Red. A white symbol stitched into them.
"Put these on. Left shoulder."
Sora frowned.
"Why?"
"So people know you're transported," the guard said flatly. "All transported are required to wear them outside the Academy."
Nira took hers without a word and tied it on.
Arlen did the same.
Sora hesitated longer, staring at it like it was a chain.
"Since when?"
"That's the rule."
Sora clenched his jaw but didn't argue.
He put it on.
They stepped out.
The Third Ring was exactly how they remembered it.
Massive mansions. Perfect gardens. Clean streets. Even the air felt different. Less people. Less smoke. Less everything.
And at the center, rising above it all—the castle.
Tower after tower. Flags moving in the wind. Thick walls.
Sora let out a low whistle.
"This is… excessive."
Nira walked with her hands in her pockets.
"It's power. Visible."
Arlen studied the mansions. Closed windows. Guards at the entrances. No one outside.
"No one really lives here," he said quietly.
Nira looked at him.
"What?"
"I mean… there's no one. Just buildings."
She glanced around.
He was right.
The Third Ring was empty.
Like a stage with no actors.
The Second Ring was different.
Older buildings, but functional. Administration. Trade. People moving fast.
Some in formal robes. Some in armor. Some carrying sheathed weapons.
Shops. Small. Clean.
One had clothes on display.
Nira stopped.
"We should buy clothes."
Sora looked at her.
"Now?"
"We have nothing but what we brought. And the uniform."
Sora thought about it.
"You're right."
They went in.
The shop was small but organized. Tunics, pants, boots. Simple.
An older man attended them. Noticed the armbands. Said nothing.
They tried things on.
Sora picked a brown tunic too big for him and simple trousers. Didn't care how it fit.
Nira chose reinforced black pants, a gray long-sleeved shirt, and a light leather vest.
Arlen went with the basics. A dark tunic. Durable pants. A plain linen shirt.
They paid.
Outside, Arlen opened his pouch and counted what was left.
Six coins.
Out of twenty.
"That was expensive," he muttered.
Nira checked hers.
"Yeah. Very."
Sora walked ahead, looking down at his new clothes with a strange smile.
Then, without looking at them:
"First time I've had new clothes."
Silence.
Arlen and Nira looked at him.
Sora noticed.
"Don't look at me like that." He ran a hand through his hair. "Don't tell me you were rich back on Earth."
Nira looked away.
Arlen said nothing.
Sora exhaled.
"Yeah. Thought so."
They kept walking.
They found a restaurant.
Large. Wide windows. The smell of grilled meat.
Sora was already pushing the door open when a guard stopped him.
"Stop."
Sora blinked.
"What?"
The guard pointed at their armbands.
"You can't go in."
"Why not?"
"House rules."
Sora frowned.
"What rules?"
The guard didn't answer. Just folded his arms.
Nira placed a hand on Sora's shoulder.
"Not worth it. Let's go somewhere else."
Sora clenched his teeth but nodded.
The second place was the same.
Another guard. Another refusal.
This time Nira spoke.
"Why can't we enter?"
The guard looked at her. Something close to pity.
"The people who come here… nobles, wealthy merchants. Most don't want to be near the transported."
He looked them over.
"Try the First Ring. They won't turn you away there."
Before leaving, he added:
"Be careful down there. A lot of crime. Though…" His eyes flicked to their uniforms. "With the Academy and those bands, you'll probably be fine."
He turned away.
The three of them stayed there.
Sora stared at the ground, jaw tight.
Nira said nothing.
Arlen thought about the band.
How it weighed more than it should.
The descent to the First Ring was guarded.
A lot of guards. Standing in formation. Watching everyone who passed.
Arlen counted them.
Ten. Just at the entrance.
Sora counted too.
"Why so many?"
Nira shook her head.
"I don't know."
They passed without being stopped.
But Arlen felt the stares.
The First Ring was another world.
No tall buildings. Just low houses, pressed together. Stalls in the streets. People moving fast, heads down.
The smell was different.
Smoke. Burnt food. Old garbage.
They walked slowly.
Smithies. Small. Hammers striking metal without pause.
Tailor shops. Cloth hanging from windows.
Bars. Dark even in daylight.
And people.
A father carrying his child on his shoulders. Smiling.
Three kids sitting against a wall. Thin. Hands out.
Sora stopped.
Watched them for a moment.
Then stepped forward and handed them two coins.
They grabbed them fast. Whispered thanks.
Sora came back.
Nira watched him.
"Maybe this world isn't so different from ours."
Sora didn't answer.
They found a place to eat.
Small. Worn wooden tables. The smell of grease.
They sat.
A young girl approached. Didn't meet their eyes.
"What'll it be?"
"What's most common?" Nira asked.
"Potato soup. Bread. Meat if you can afford it."
"Soup's fine."
She nodded and left.
The food came quickly.
Watery soup. Hard bread. No taste.
Sora took a bite and frowned.
"Not what I expected."
Nira smiled.
"What did you expect? It's a medieval world."
Arlen ate in silence.
Thinking about the guards.
The entrance.
"Why so many guards up there?" he said, almost to himself.
Sora and Nira looked at him.
"I don't know," Nira said. "But it's strange."
Sora set his spoon down.
"And the nobles… why do they hate us so much?"
Silence.
Arlen thought about the meeting. About Ren.
"We need more information," Nira said.
Sora nodded slowly.
"Ren was right."
They finished eating.
Left three coins on the table.
Then they started asking.
They moved through the First Ring, stopping people—merchants, smiths, anyone.
"Do you know why there are so many guards at the entrance?"
Silence.
"What's going on with the refugees?"
No answers.
But Arlen noticed something.
They knew.
All of them.
They just didn't want to say it.
After an hour, they sat in an alley.
Sora let out a breath.
"No one's going to talk."
Nira leaned against the wall.
"They don't trust us."
Arlen looked around.
The deeper they went into the First Ring, the worse it got.
Trash piling in the streets.
Kids in torn clothes. Too thin.
Men asleep against walls.
And something worse.
A girl. No older than twelve. She approached Arlen.
"If you feed me… I'll do whatever you want."
Arlen looked at her.
Gave her a coin.
"Go."
She took it and ran.
Nira watched in silence.
Sora clenched his fists.
"Let's split up," Nira said. "Ask in different places. Meet back at the Academy dining hall by sunset."
Sora stood.
"You're not going alone. It's not safe."
Nira looked at him.
"Then come with me."
Sora nodded.
They both looked at Arlen.
"You'll be okay?"
"Yeah."
He wasn't sure.
But he nodded anyway.
Arlen went deeper.
Narrow alleys. Houses that looked ready to collapse.
A small square. Abandoned.
He kept asking.
No answers.
Finally, he turned to leave.
And ran into someone.
A girl.
She fell. A paper bag slipped from her hands.
"Sorry, sorry," she said quickly, gathering things.
Arlen crouched to help.
He saw what had fallen.
Moldy bread. Half-soaked in dirty water.
Rotten apples. Worm-eaten.
She grabbed everything. Fast. Like it mattered.
Red hair, tied in a messy braid. Loose strands stuck to her face.
Freckles—small and pale—across her nose and cheeks.
Gray eyes. Alert.
Not a child. Maybe sixteen.
But she moved like she couldn't afford to be one.
"I'm sorry," Arlen said. "My fault."
She looked at him. Saw the uniform. The band.
Tensed.
"It's fine."
Arlen glanced at the bread in the puddle.
"You can't eat that."
She didn't answer.
"Let me buy you something," Arlen said. "To make up for it."
She stepped back.
"I don't do that kind of service."
Arlen blinked.
Then understood.
"No. I don't want anything. Just… for the bread."
She studied him.
Arlen pulled out some coins and held them out.
"Take it. Buy new bread."
She looked at the coins. Then at him.
Slowly, she took them.
Arlen turned to leave.
"My name's Lysa."
He stopped.
"I heard you asking around."
Arlen turned back.
"Yeah?"
Lysa watched him for another second.
"Maybe I can help." She glanced at the bag. "Come with me to buy food. Then we talk."
Arlen nodded.
She led him through a different path.
Away from the main road.
A small market. Hidden between buildings.
"Not great quality," Lysa said. "But cheap."
She bought food with the coins.
Bread. Potatoes. Something like dried meat.
Arlen was surprised.
He thought it wasn't much.
But she filled the bag.
"So," Arlen said. "What do you know?"
Lysa looked at him.
"Wait. I need to cook first. The kids are hungry."
A pause.
"Come with me. After we eat, I'll tell you what I know."
Arlen followed.
Through narrow alleys.
Until they reached a church.
Abandoned.
Doors boarded up. Windows too.
Lysa looked around. Checking.
Then pulled loose a few boards from a side window.
Climbed in.
Arlen followed.
Inside was ruined.
Cracked walls. Holes in the roof. Broken benches stacked in corners.
But there was something else.
Drawings on the walls. Cheap ink. Childish. Bright colors.
Blankets on the floor. Clothes hanging from makeshift lines.
And warmth.
Not from fire.
From people.
"I'm back," Lysa said.
Children came out from different corners.
Arlen counted.
Five. Six. Seven.
Different ages. Some small. Some older.
All watching him.
Careful. Afraid.
Lysa smiled.
"Say hi. He's safe."
Arlen thought about that word.
Safe.
Was he?
An image flashed.
A boy from school. On the ground. Blood on his knuckles.
Yui shouting. Telling him to stop.
"Hi."
A small voice pulled him back.
A girl. Big glasses that didn't fit her face.
"Are you a student from the Academy of Aurelion?"
Arlen nodded.
Her eyes lit up.
The others relaxed, just a little. Some waved.
Lysa set the bag on a makeshift table.
"I'll make food. Wait here with them."
The kids kept their distance.
Arlen sat on the floor.
Waited.
And wondered why Lysa had let him in.
She'd been cautious before.
So why trust him now?