Professor Alan greeted us from distance. "Hey there champions!" I had a gut feeling his words of praise were cheaper than dirt. Fitting for an instructor who teaches to the lowest tier.

I followed protocol and greeted him. "Good to see you professor."

"We're first, right?" Filiel is the sort of person who constantly worries about her position relative to rest.

He nodded. Then, he read his wristwatch. "Yes, you are. I'll record your time for the next chance. Did you guys enjoy the assignment?"

I muttered. "Enjoy? I almost got stabbed." And Filiel actually came out injured.

"Especially you, Christian. The class had never raced like this. But I'm always looking for dynamic ways to teach…It's the only way those guys ever learn." He pointed at students entering the clearing. "Hey there runners-up!"

My classmates had really beaten themselves up. What sort of education is this? They were smiling, worst part of it. You could really tell they had health insurance and didn’t fear any medical bills.

I didn’t need to pay any mid to my classmates’ abnormal attitudes. The Fog Barrier was right in front. Once again, the symbol of my imprisonment challenged me to escape. My pride hurt, but I had to give it the win for the second time.

My opinions about this school’s polices were so conflicted. It needs a total reformation, but as it stands now it has an important role. If individuals like Oster suddenly snapped…That’s material for a national tragedy news cycle. However, why was everyone so upfront about it? The ‘Berlin wall’, all students were staring at it, without second thoughts. Had they already acknowledged the prison-like nature of this High School? Was I the only one who thought that it was a secret?

Overall, I turned out I couldn’t resist the urge to go near it. It’s impressive. It reminds me of my lost freedom, while also meaning something else. This world hid a secret society and I accessed it. Me, who shut the world out of their life for so long, was forcibly thrown into it.

"Fried! It's dangerous to go near the Barrier." I know what I'm doing, and I won't touch it. "There will be a slight pain if you touch it!" I recalled my test stick's sizzling. Slight pain? Sure.

I kept going until Filiel stopped me. She lacked an understanding of the context behind my actions, but she worried for my health. I had done the same. In the end, it was an overreaction from me. As her wound wasn’t nearly as deep as I first believed. The blood had clotted by the time we arrived here.

My head went low, as I restrained from garnering any more attention. Alan diverted the scene. He'd rather reward us and get everything over with. Attending to his instructions, us winner formed a line where my team was front and center.

Alan raised his card, which I guess is his equivalent of the student's IDs. "Transfer predefined awards." It has a microphone too! "OK, check your balances."

"Eh? How does this work?" The number depicting my Academic Credit shot up by fifty points. Whoever invented the technology should launch it into the consumer market. When I asked, I expected Filiel to instantly answer. But she was too engrossed in admiring her own balance. I guessed it must be sky-high. "And then how do I transfer you your cut?" That brought her out of the self-absorption.

"Focus on the quantity and tap the cards." Sounded unbelievable, but I had already lost my capacity for disbelief.

Half of fifty, twenty-five. Tap. My card struck hers. The number updated. It's not that bad. Considering the starting amount is a hundred. And in videogames a quarter of the initial amount…for a first quest reward is respectable. "Thanks a lot for today."

Studying at Seven Star had its moments. Moments where I had a teammate who's also a friend, helping me. The last few days of May moved on and we entered June. I actually did it, I survived the first week. I wish I could say I survive and thrived. But the hours after class were dreadful. I did befriend the girl, but she also spent too much time studying, lived far from me, and there's a curfew in place after sunset. Maybe I should meet other people.

Cleaning my single room apartment had become my way of passing the time. Although I often had fits of rage while doing it. And you had to lease brooms and chemicals off a faraway stall. Out of the blue, a certain someone came to mind. I'll run the numbers…but did she tell me her wages, or did I forget them? My teammate and I had struck first place on most assignments, so I could probably afford it. Before that, I had a few errands to take care of.

I left home and walked to the only commercial zone in the Campus. The place where you are supposed to spend Credits. There are a lot of stores designed to keep the student busy with consumerism. But I didn't plan to purchase anything expensive, as I'm saving up for a smartphone. Why did they take my belongings again?

The bell notified the clerks of my arrival. 'Businesses' here are all attended by students. It's how they earn their Academic Credits.

"Greetings. Are you a new customer?" My first visit to the General Store.

"Yes. Is the current textbook in stock?"

"Almost everyone purchased theirs already, but…" He slapped the top of a pile. "We have unlimited stock!" Dozens of textbooks taped into a stack. He pointed me at an aisle where they had spare copies.

"Here you go." A girl stocking the shelves, handed me one.

Opening the book resulted in shock. "Matte paper with color graphics! Excuse me, do we get the same textbooks as the main classes?"

"We do, everyone gets the same didactic materials."

"That doesn't happen often."

"It's cheaper than redacting two editions." An explanation which made sense.

I placed my card on their scanner to pay. Additionally, I got myself school supplies. And I killed some time browsing the store. The window-shopping even gave me an idea. What if could purchase Academic Credits with real money? Then, instead of using mine I could request the aid of my extended family and live as royalty. Then I thought it through. I did have some valid reasons for escaping the Fried main house. Better not depend on them.

After exiting the shop there were the options of staying at the commercial hub or going back home. I picked an empty bench. Well, all of them were empty. Ok book, about time I test you. I knew elite education when I saw it, not that I appreciated it. There was also the chance of it having useful information.

'Mathematics' Nope. 'Foreign Language' Nein. 'Primer for transfer students.' Yes, yes, yes. I read it silently.

'Faculty welcomes you the Seven Star College. Whether you transferred schools or have been admitted from the general populace, you have the opportunity to study in the leader of Parapsychic Education.' Are there rival schools? Can I transfer? 'So, you just dropped into the middle of the semester and don't know what to do. First, you should learn of the rich historical value of this institute.'

"The abandoned Alcatraz also has a rich historical value. If you aren't useful, I'll throw you into a trash bin." Immature of me, but I aimed the book at a garbage can next to the bench.

'Formally established in the late 19th, The College has nurtured generations of espers. Did you know the College is named after the Seven Stars? This group of psychics took the mantle over the vices of mind and unified our community early in its formation. We would love to have them as professors!'

"Enough self-aggrandizing." I closed the textbook. If it weren't mandatory, I would have disposed of it immediately. Actually…If it weren't mandatory, I wouldn't have bought it in first place. "Aww man, I'll have to read this crap in my spare time, won't I?"

Studying. Doing so should move you up from Class F. But is that actually the case? I had met diligent classmates who fought for their grades. Many of them were downgraded after their freshmen term. Why aren't they moving up? Isn't this class just punishment?

"I'm going to pay my neighbor a visit."

Instead of entering my room, I climbed the staircase. There, I pushed the doorbell button.

"I'm coming!" She opened the door. My neighbor who, moonlights as a maid, wore the regular uniform. I normally forget names, but if had heard hers I would remember it. She did make an impression. "Oh! It's you." She said.

"Call me Christian."

"Marianne. What are you doing here? You came for my services, didn't you?"

"The way you said it sounded off. But I won't judge you if you perform two differing maid services…That would explain the outfit."

"No, the dress’s just marketing. I sewed it from used drapes."

"I did come to ask about your wages."

"Sure! Enter." She was naturally hyped. Everyone gets excited about new income.

I was about to step into her doorway, but I hesitated. "You are not going to close the door on my face, right?"

"No, but I'll brew you a cup of tea."

Marianne multitasked. She brewed tea while also pitching her services. The water was warm enough to serve when I'd finished scribbling the costs on a napkin. The aforementioned tea tasted like hot sucrose. It was artificially flavored. I could tell it from the detergent-grade citrusy aftertaste. "Thank you, it's good."

"You really think so? A classmate handed it to me after tasting her first cup."

I should be more forthcoming next time.

"How are you feeling the school?" She asked.

"The scary Council President made me think all my future classmates were delinquents. But not everyone is like that. So why are they in Class F?"

"Supposedly, if you achieve high scores you'll be promoted to the upper tier. Yet, I've been here since first-year. It's much more difficult to climb than it is to drop."

"It's senseless. I've seen students that actually study."

"Never placed that much importance in academics."

Like me? No, she can't be that bad. I'm a special case of disaster.

"Open up. I'm on a deadline!" A stranger knocked, instead of ringing.

"Who's that?"

"It's that time of the week."

Another girl came to deliver the weekly pantry. She carried herself quite professionally, for someone delivering knockoffs.

"What's inside?" Marianne asked.

"This period there's a new maize flour."

Corn? I can't even handle wheat flour. I wasn't eager to cook with that one. Last time, the instructions were in Chinese. I hoped these had been written in a language I could read. I knew some Spanish from schooling.

Though, I don't usually express chivalry I helped the host with her cargo. When she saw me, the delivery girl glared at me, as if trying to hex me. I assumed the deliverer suspected a man and a woman on the same room. "It's a home visit…we aren't going to do whatever you are misjudging us of."

"…" Whatever she intended with me, it ended. "Next delivery, the committee will bring back corn flakes. They come bundled with an experimental dehydrated milk compound." I hoped ‘experimental’ was already reviewed by the ‘National Food Agency’.

The delivery girl left for the next residence. However, she had already soured my mood to talk. I decided to go back to my hole. While descending the stairs, I saw her pushing a utility cart which was notably void of a load.

I too, got my pantry delivered. "How careless of her. I'm sure they steal parcels around here."

After taking it in, I laid down to rest. There's not much to do indoors besides sleeping. In an hour or two, I could shower and then sleep. Most nights, I had no appetite for dinner. Up to that point, every night I recalled the day’s events. Just writing a mental diary. But that night I couldn't gather my thoughts. My sixth sense tingled. No, it gave me a painful migraine.

I turned towards the SCLAP box. “I don’t trust her. There’s something fishy inside.” My anxiety was due to a fear of food poisoning.

Experimental milk compound…I’m very suspicious of what they are feeding us.

My nails ripped apart the packing tape. I unloaded everything, scanning each and every expiration date. And checking the packages actually had the 'use by' label. Everything checked out, except for a stray slip of paper. A handwritten letter.

'I would like to clear up my suspicions about you. I’ve been observing you for a few days. Hope you don’t mind. Most days I come here for my job. There's someone, you know who I'm referring to. I won't tolerate you using her to exploit our school system.'

Student Committee for Logistics And Produce. An organization that only accepts students of Class B or A. There’s someone at my tail. Is the Student Council involved?

I bit my inner cheek. Such surprises were undesired. And much less at these hours. But my intuition told me Reyna wouldn’t raid my home again. Not when I was on her field. Wait and see, was my plan. I folded the note in half, intending to store it on a drawer. There was more to it written on the backside.

'There's a large plaza nearby. If you don't come now, I'll go to you.'

I donned my jacket again for the cold and broke the curfew by going to the core of the campus.