June walked with his hands in his pockets, trailing beside Jean, who wore a daunting expression—completely uninterested in their surroundings.
They followed a long stone path that ended at a massive shrine-like gate. Paper charms fluttered around the large, oval-shaped entrance, but the real anomaly was what sat inside: a shimmering, pitch-black surface that rippled like water.
June narrowed his eyes. What the hell is that? It looked like ink bleeding into reality.
"Yooo! That looks more eerie than sick…"
Jean chuckled. "Yeah, this is just a barrier. Used to hide certain areas. Technically, anyone can see it—but the way your brain interprets it is different from how someone else might. So most people just...ignore it."
A question mark might as well have floated over June's head.
"And this... ties into the basics or something?"
"YUPP!!"
Jean stepped through the black liquid without hesitation. June hesitated, holding a hand close to the barrier's surface. But before he could make up his mind, it latched onto his hand like a vacuum and yanked him through with brute force.
His eyes widened in panic, but he didn't have time to scream.
—
June landed in a completely different world.
The terrain had changed into a vast courtyard framed by Gothic-Victorian buildings. Gargoyles perched atop spires, and the dull, gray sun filtered through a sky thick with clouds—like a dramatized version of London, brooding and wet.
Teenagers in sleek black uniforms walked by, books tucked under their arms. A few glanced at him.
"You made it?" Jean grinned.
"Yeah...?"
"Welcome to Neavu Ritual Academy!!" Jean yelled with both arms raised, drawing unwanted attention.
June cringed. "Can you not?" he muttered through clenched teeth.
Jean ignored him. "Come on! First class is starting!"
He dragged June like a ragdoll through the courtyard toward one of the sturdier-looking buildings. Stone gargoyles flanked the entrance. Inside, the air smelled like old paper and ash.
June's gaze swept over the towering bookshelves—rows upon rows of tomes with strange titles he couldn't begin to comprehend.
Midway down a hallway, Jean kicked open a classroom door.
Gasps followed.
June nearly jumped. Seriously? Who kicks open a door in a school?
Inside, students sat at desks, and a gaunt man stood at the front of the room. He had deep bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in a decade. His gaze flicked lazily from Jean to June.
You idiot, June screamed internally. Now everyone's looking at me.
But oddly, no one seemed to care. Only two girls sat inside. Both were focused on Jean, not him.
The teacher raised a cane and stepped toward them. June tensed, uncertain of his intentions.
But then—
"Oooh, Jean! Good to see you! You eaten? Breathing alright? Who's the new boy?"
"Doing fine, thanks. This is June. Say hi, June!"
June sighed.
"Uh… good day. I'm June. Nice to meet you."
The two girls still didn't say anything, but their eyes scanned him. One sat closer—calm and composed, black hair tied in a tidy bun. Her ironed uniform screamed discipline. She looked like the silent type but had a strange warmth about her.
A nonchalant tomboy, June thought.
The other girl, seated farther back, radiated irritation. She was striking—long lashes, pouty lips, and hair tied into sharp pigtails. Her body language screamed stay away.
June gave the quiet girl a small wave. To his surprise, she waved back, a faint smile curling her lips.
It stunned him. That one gesture changed her entire aura—her beauty amplified in that single, silent moment.
"Well then, June," Jean said, grinning like an idiot. "Make me proud, yeah? Hehehe…"
And just like that, he vanished through the door, leaving June standing there in casual clothes, completely out of place.
No uniform. No dorm info. And he expects me to just… figure it out? June groaned internally.
He glanced up—Sir Hughes was staring at him now, eyebrow arched.
"You're clearly new. Lucky for you, we're just starting the semester." The teacher tapped the board. "I'm Sir Hughes. You may call me Sir Hughes."
He underlined a word on the chalkboard.
ESSENCE.
"We'll begin with the basics. What is essence? By definition, it is the intrinsic nature or indispensable quality of something—especially something abstract—which determines its character."
He paused, then rephrased.
"Put simply, it's the real and unchanging nature of a thing. The core of what makes something what it is."
June leaned forward. His brain was soaking in every word.
"This is the foundation of everything you'll encounter in the Youth Program. There are three primary types of essence: Spirit, Soul, and Nature. There are subcategories—but for now, those three are enough."
He picked up a cup and poured water into it.
"This cup holds water in its base form. But if I put it in the fridge, it becomes cold. That new temperature? That's now a property it has gained."
He raised a finger.
"Now, if I remove it too early, it becomes lukewarm—an incomplete experience. Just like how humans experience trauma, joy, enlightenment... those experiences mold our personal worldview."
He looked around.
"Essence works the same. The world impacts us. And our interpretation of those impacts is what defines our personal essence."
June raised his hand. "So... our experiences shape the essence we carry?"
"Exactly," Sir Hughes said. "If someone is raised in cruelty, then their essence may reflect that suffering. Essence is personal. It varies based on who you are and how your brain processes reality."
Rayla—the irritated girl—raised her hand with a sigh. "Isn't that kind of vague? A lot of people think the world is unfair."
"Correct. But it depends on how the brain processes that unfairness."
He tapped his temple.
"The brain is the regulator. Studies show that the left hemisphere of the brain is responsible for harvesting Spiritual Essence. The right hemisphere refines it. But none of this works unless your brain first acknowledges the existence of essence."
"And how does that happen?" June asked.
Sir Hughes folded his arms. "Through a breakthrough moment—trauma, revelation, euphoria—something powerful enough to force the brain to recognize essence as real. Until then, it remains dormant, shifting in form every day with your experiences."
He looked at June more directly.
"But once awakened, essence solidifies. It takes shape."
June stared at his hands, a whisper escaping his lips.
"…Do I have that inside me too?"
I guess we'll have to find out.