"So let me understand," I say, sitting cross-legged on the grass while Vivienne arranges what appears to be an entire library's worth of books around us. "There are five major kingdoms, seven minor principalities, the Free Cities Alliance, and something called the Contested Territories which nobody actually controls but everyone claims to own."

  "That's the simplified version, yes."

  "And we're in the Asterian Kingdom, capital city Luminara, which is ruled by King Aldric the Third who has two children, both of whom attend the Academy."

  "Crown Prince Matthias and Princess Seraphina," Celine supplies from where she's lying in the grass nearby, hands behind her head and looking entirely too relaxed for someone who's supposed to be helping educate me. "Matthias is seventeen, stuffy, and, uh, takes everything seriously. Sera's fifteen, much more fun at parties."

  "You've been to parties with the princess?"

  "A few. Father's position at court means we get invitations to most major events."

  I look at Mara, who's doing stretches that look physically impossible. "And what does your family do?"

  "Military," she says without pausing her routine. "Father's a general, mother runs logistics for the northern border defenses. I'm expected to follow in their footsteps."

  "Is that why you're so excited about the dungeon crawl?"

  "That and I'm bored. Summer estate life is mind-numbing."

  "Right, because risking death in ancient ruins is a reasonable solution to boredom."

  "It is when you've spent three weeks doing needlework and attending tea parties."

  Vivienne clears her throat, redirecting attention back to the books. "History first or magical theory?"

  "Whichever keeps me from accidentally committing treason or blowing something up."

  "Magical theory it is." She opens a thick tome with illustrated diagrams that look hand-drawn and probably cost more than my old apartment. "Okay first. Magic here operates on mana, which you've already experienced. But I want to understand how it works in your world first, so I can see where our systems differ."

  I lean forward, organizing my thoughts carefully. In the game, magic was just abilities with cooldowns and mana costs, pure mechanics. But I can't explain it that way, need to translate everything into theoretical terms that make sense to them. "Where I come from, magical education focuses on precision and replicability. You learn specific formulations—exact mana structures with defined parameters—and practice until you can execute them perfectly under any conditions."

  "Like spell formulas?" Vivienne asks.

  "Similar, but more rigid. The structure is fixed, the output is consistent. Two people casting the same formulation will produce identical results if they've mastered the technique properly."

  Celine props herself up on her elbows. "That sounds incredibly limiting."

  "It's efficient. You know exactly what you're going to get every time, can calculate power output precisely, optimize for specific situations."

  "But there's no room for creativity," Vivienne says, frowning at her diagrams. "No adaptation or innovation."

  "The innovation comes from combining formulations, timing them correctly, using the right technique for the right situation. And from understanding the underlying principles well enough that execution becomes instinctive."

  Mara stops stretching. "You said you were good at what you did. How good?"

  I consider how to phrase this without revealing I'm talking about video game mechanics. "I specialized in high-output destructive magic. Studied under masters who'd perfected techniques over decades, learned formulations that most practitioners never access because they require specific aptitudes and extensive training."

  "What kind of aptitudes?"

  "High mana capacity, exceptional control, affinity for shadow and void elements, ability to maintain concentration under extreme pressure."

  Vivienne is taking notes now. "And in your world, that made you exceptional?"

  "It made me dangerous. There's a reason I was fighting high-level threats alone—most people can't handle that kind of sustained magical combat."

  The three of them exchange looks. Celine speaks first. "Here magic is more fluid. We learn fundamental principles and apply them creatively rather than following fixed formulations."

  "I gathered that from what you said earlier. Show me what that looks like."

  Vivienne holds out her hand and mana swirls above her palm, coalescing into a small flame that dances and shifts. "This is basic fire manipulation. The principle is converting mana into thermal energy and giving it form. But how I do it versus how Mara does it would be completely different."

  Mara creates her own flame, sharper and more controlled, almost blade-like in shape. "Mine has a combat focus. Hers is more general utility."

  "And I can make mine pretty," Celine adds, creating a flame that spirals in an elaborate pattern with multiple colors shifting through it.

  I study the three flames, noting the differences in structure and stability. "In my world we'd call those different formulations entirely. You'd learn fire-blade as distinct from fire-utility as distinct from decorative-flame."

  "That seems exhaustingly specific," Celine says.

  "It prevents accidents. If everyone's improvising, power output varies wildly and things go wrong."

  "Things go wrong here too," Mara points out. "But we learn to control the underlying principles so we can adapt when they do."

  Vivienne dismisses her flame. "I'm curious about your formulations though. The shadow bolt you mentioned last night—can you demonstrate the mana structure?"

  I hold out my hand, gathering energy slowly so they can observe the process. The purple-black power spirals into form, and I keep it contained rather than releasing it, letting them see how the mana shapes and stabilizes. "This is a basic destructive formulation. Shadow-aligned, single-target, optimized for penetration and impact force."

  "The mana density is incredible," Vivienne breathes. "How are you maintaining that level of compression without it destabilizing?"

  "Practice. Years of it. The formulation requires precise control at every stage or it collapses."

  "Can you teach it?"

  I hesitate. Probably not, since it's technically a game ability rather than real magic, but I can't say that. "The prerequisites are steep. You'd need significant shadow affinity and the control to maintain that compression level."

  "But theoretically?"

  "Theoretically, yes, but it would take months of training for someone without the natural aptitude."

  I release the energy toward a tree at the far end of the garden, the bolt impacting with enough force to crack the bark. Celine winces. "That was your basic formulation?"

  "One of several."

  "What's an advanced one like?"

  I think about [Netherstorm], about city-leveling apocalyptic destruction, and decide that's not information they need right now. "Significantly more complicated. It kinda multiple element things, and it has larger area effects and extended casting sequences. Not something I'd demonstrate in a garden."

  "Because of the power output?"

  "Yeah, I'd prefer not to destroy the estate."

  Mara is watching me with that intensity again. "You're being careful about what you're telling us, huh."

  "I'm being strategic. You don't need to know everything I can do, just that I can handle myself in dangerous situations."

  "That's fair," Vivienne concedes. "Though I'd love to study your magical framework more thoroughly at some point."

  "Maybe after we've established I'm not going to accidentally kill you all."

  "Also fair."

  We spend the next hour going over their magical theory, and I'm genuinely impressed by the flexibility of their system. Where my abilities—formulations, I need to keep calling them formulations—are fixed and predetermined, they can adapt and innovate in real-time. It's riskier, less consistent, but allows for creativity I never had access to. A skilled practitioner here could theoretically develop entirely new applications on the fly, responding to situations I'd need specific pre-learned abilities to handle.

  The trade-off is power and precision. My shadow bolt hits exactly as hard as it's supposed to, every single time. Theirs would vary based on skill, focus, environmental factors, dozens of variables that make each casting slightly different.

  Around midday servants bring lunch out to the garden, and I'm still not over how good the food is here. Fresh bread again, cheese that's sharp and creamy, sliced meat that actually tastes like the animal it came from, fruit that's so perfectly ripe it's almost obscene.

  "Question," I say through a mouthful of apple. "What exactly is the social hierarchy at the Academy? Like, who do I need to be careful around?"

  Mara snorts. "Everyone."

  "Helpful."

  "I'm serious. The Academy is a viper's nest of noble politics. Everyone's jockeying for position, making alliances, undermining rivals."

  "It's not that bad," Celine protests.

  "It absolutely is that bad."

  "Okay yes, it's pretty bad, but it's also fun if you know how to navigate it!"

  I look at Vivienne for a reality check. She considers for a moment while cutting her cheese into precise geometric shapes. "The Academy has roughly three hundred students across six years. First and second years are mostly beneath notice unless they do something spectacular. Third years start establishing their social positions. Fourth through sixth years are where the real politics happen."

  "And we're going into what year?"

  "Fourth," all three say simultaneously.

  "Great. So I'm transferring directly into the social warzone."

  "You have us," Celine points out. "That means something. House Montclair isn't the most powerful but we're well-connected and respected."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "And your family?" I ask Vivienne.

  "Minor nobility, but I have a scholarship for academic excellence. Social position is precarious but stable."

  "And yours?" to Mara.

  "Military family, so we're respected but not wealthy. I'm here on merit, not money."

  I process this, building a mental map of their social positions and what that means for me by association. "So Celine has the political connections, Vivienne has the academic credentials, and Mara has the combat reputation."

  "Basically yes."

  "...and I'm the half-demon transfer student with mysterious provincial origins and House Montclair sponsorship."

  "You make it sound dramatic."

  "It is dramatic! I'm going to stick out like crazy."

  "You have horns," Mara says flatly. "You were always going to stick out."

  "Fair point."

  Vivienne has pulled out a fresh piece of paper and is making what looks like a seating chart. "The main factions you need to be aware of: First, the Royalist bloc, students from families closely allied with the crown. Second, the Traditionalists, old nobility who oppose recent progressive reforms. Third, the Meritocrats, scholarship students and minor nobles who want advancement based on achievement rather than birth. And the Independents, everyone who doesn't fit neatly into those categories."

  "Which group are you in?"

  "We're sort of Independent by default," Celine says. "Father supports the crown but not blindly, so we're not fully Royalist. We're noble but I'm friends with scholarship students, so not Traditionalist. We don't push for reform actively enough to be Meritocrats."

  "So you float between groups."

  "It makes us flexible, y'know. We can interact with everyone without being locked into one faction's politics."

  "And that's where I'll be too."

  "Probably, yes. Your half-demon status will make Traditionalists hostile by default, but Royalists and Meritocrats should be neutral to friendly depending on how you present yourself."

  I eat more apple, thinking about social dynamics and political navigation and how much of this is just high school drama with magic and money. "What about the discrimination thing? Like, what does that actually look like day to day?"

  The mood shifts. Mara stops stretching. Celine's smile fades a bit.

  "Exclusion mostly," Vivienne says quietly. "You won't be invited to certain social events. Some professors will grade you more harshly. Students will avoid sitting near you in classes or partnering with you for projects."

  "That sounds isolating."

  "It is."

  "But you three will still hang out with me publicly, right?"

  "Of course," Celine says immediately. "We're not going to abandon you just because some stuck-up nobles think bloodline purity matters more than actual character."

  "That's going to cost you socially though."

  "Let it."

  Mara nods. "Anyone who judges us for having a half-demon friend isn't worth associating with anyway."

  I feel something warm in my chest that I refuse to acknowledge as emotion because I'm supposed to be the cynical adult here, not getting attached to three teenage girls I've known for less than twenty-four hours. "You guys are kind of great, you know that?"

  "We know," Celine says, grinning again.

  "And humble too."

  "Humility is overrated."

  We finish lunch and Vivienne insists on continuing the lessons, pulling out books on recent history and current political situations. I learn about the demon wars from fifty years ago, which explains a lot about the current prejudice. An actual demon lord tried to conquer the continent, killed thousands of people, and was only stopped by a coalition of kingdoms working together. Since then demons have been viewed with suspicion and fear, though half-demons are considered less dangerous because they're only partly demonic.

  "So people are going to assume I might suddenly go murder-crazy because of my heritage."

  "Some will, yes."

  "That's fantastic. Really looking forward to the Academy experience now."

  "It won't be that bad," Celine insists. "Most students are just ignorant, not actively malicious. Once they see you're normal they'll relax."

  "Define normal."

  "You know what I mean."

  "I really don't, considering I'm from another dimension."

  "Well… like friendly," Vivienne clarifies. "Non-threatening. Someone who can be trusted not to turn lessons into combat zones, or practice forbidden magic in the dormitories."

  I think about the hole in the wall. "About that."

  "Yes?"

  "How forbidden is destructive combat magic exactly?"

  All three of them look at me with varying degrees of concern.

  "Why are you asking?" Mara says slowly.

  "Just wondering what the rules are. For future reference."

  "Nyx."

  "Hypothetically speaking."

  "What would you do?"

  "Nothing! I'm just asking about theoretical boundaries of acceptable magical practice!"

  Celine sits up fully now. "You're planning to test more formulations, aren't you."

  "I need to understand how my techniques translate to your world's physics!"

  "That's a yes."

  "Look, in my world I had extensive training under controlled conditions. Here I don't know how the ambient mana density affects output, what interference patterns might exist, whether environmental factors alter stability. Testing is responsible."

  "Testing is how we end up with more property damage," Vivienne says, but she's not actually arguing. "But you're right that we need to understand what you're capable of before the dungeon. Just do it somewhere that isn't expensive."

  "The practice fields," Mara suggests. "We can go this afternoon, run some drills, see what your formulations actually produce in combat situations."

  "And I can take measurements," Vivienne adds.

  "Are you going to write a paper about me?"

  "Maybe."

  "That's concerning."

  "It's valuable."

  "Still concerning."

  Celine is already standing, brushing grass off her dress with enthusiasm that suggests she's been waiting for this moment. "Combat demonstration! This is going to be so much more interesting than magical theory!"

  "Theory is important," Vivienne protests.

  "Theory is boring."

  "You need theoretical foundation to understand practical application."

  "I need to see things explode to stay awake during afternoon lessons."

  They bicker while gathering books and lunch remains, and I watch them with a growing sense of surreal affection. These girls are chaotic and impulsive and probably going to get me into situations I'll regret, but they're also genuine in a way I haven't experienced in years.

  We head toward what they call the practice fields, an open area behind the estate with target dummies and scorch marks suggesting regular magical training. Mara immediately starts pointing out safety zones and acceptable impact areas while Vivienne sets up what looks like measurement equipment that I assume is magical somehow.

  "So what should I start with?" I ask, flexing my fingers and feeling the mana respond.

  "Something basic," Vivienne says. "Your simplest offensive formulation."

  I cast the shadow bolt toward a target dummy, the purple-black energy spiraling out faster than I expect. The dummy doesn't just rock back… it explodes, splinters of enchanted wood scattering across the field, the support post cracking clean through.

  Silence.

  "Um," Celine says.

  "That was basic?" Mara asks.

  I stare at the destroyed dummy, recalibrating. Right. My stats are endgame-level. What felt like a weak attack to me just obliterated something designed to withstand combat magic. "I may have misjudged the output scaling."

  "You think?"

  "In my world that's the formulation you use when you're conserving mana and just need to chip away at tough targets."

  Vivienne is writing frantically. "The mana density I observed earlier… that's standard for your basic techniques?"

  "On the lower end, actually."

  All three of them stare at me.

  "Nyx," Vivienne says carefully. "What exactly was the power level of the threats you were fighting alone?"

  I think about boss monsters with millions of hit points, raid-level content designed for teams of highly geared players, mechanics that required perfect execution or instant death. "Significantly higher than normal practitioners would handle, maybe."

  "How much higher?"

  "The kind of threats that usually require military intervention or specialized teams."

  "And you fought them solo."

  "I had very good training."

  "Clearly," Mara says, still staring at the obliterated dummy. "Can you do it again? But with reduced output?"

  I focus on the next dummy, trying to hold back, reducing the mana flow to what feels like maybe a quarter of normal. The bolt still hits hard enough to crack the dummy's torso and send it spinning backward.

  "Better," Vivienne says weakly.

  "That's reduced?" Celine sounds somewhere between awed and delighted. "Nyx, you're absurdly powerful!"

  "I'm trained. There's a difference."

  "Not much of one from where we're standing."

  I try a few more techniques at reduced output, chains that bind rather than crush, void strikes that crack stone instead of pulverizing it, spatial steps that don't leave me nauseous from the abrupt displacement. Each one requires conscious effort to dial back, fighting against muscle memory that expects full power output.

  "Your control is remarkable," Vivienne observes. "Being able to scale output that precisely suggests incredible mana manipulation."

  "Like I said, extensive training. You don't get to fight high-level threats without learning exact control."

  Mara is watching with tactical assessment written all over her face. "What's your maximum output? Not asking you to demonstrate, just want to know the theoretical ceiling."

  I think about [Netherstorm], about apocalyptic destruction that could level everything for kilometers, and decide that's not information they need. "Area effects that would make this practice field a crater, hmmm or maybe the kingdom? Extended range techniques that could hit targets I can't even see. Sustained barrage capabilities that could hold off armies."

  "Armies."

  "Given sufficient preparation time, yes."

  "And that's normal where you come from?"

  "For specialists in high-output destructive magic, yes. We're rare, but we exist."

  Vivienne has stopped writing, just staring at her notes. "The magical framework in your world must be completely different from ours. The amount of power you're describing should require rituals, multiple casters, preparation time—"

  "It requires years of study, specific aptitudes, and masters willing to teach formulations that can kill you if executed incorrectly. But once mastered, yes, it's all individual capability."

  Celine flops down on the grass, watching me with sparkling eyes. "This is amazing. We have the most powerful friend at the Academy and nobody knows it yet."

  "We're not using Nyx as a secret weapon," Vivienne says firmly.

  "I didn't say we would! But it's nice knowing we have options if things get bad."

  "Things aren't going to get bad."

  "You literally proposed a dungeon crawl yesterday."

  "That's completely different."

  They're bickering again and I take the opportunity to examine my hands, still getting used to the disconnect between how weak this body looks and how much power it contains. In the game the visual was just pixels, cosmetic choices that had no bearing on actual capability. Here the tiny frame and childlike appearance creates an expectation I violate every time I cast anything.

  "Oh right, Nyx," Celine calls.

  "Yeah?"

  "When we get to the Academy, maybe don't demonstrate this to everyone immediately."

  "You think I should hide my capabilities?"

  "I think you should think twice, or at least be strategic about revealing them? Information is power, and surprise is an advantage."

  Coming from the girl who summoned a demon on a whim, that's surprisingly tactical advice. I nod slowly. "So I hold back unless absolutely necessary."

  "Or show just enough to seem competent but not exceptional," Vivienne suggests. "That way you can defend yourself if needed without attracting excessive attention."

  "And if someone pushes too hard?"

  Mara smiles, sharp and dangerous. "Then you remind them why underestimating people is a mistake."

  I like these girls. I probably shouldn't, I barely know them, but I do. They're chaotic and reckless and way too comfortable with violence for teenagers, but they're also loyal and genuine and treating me like a person rather than a monster or a weapon. That matters more than it probably should.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon doing more controlled tests, me working on scaling output down to levels that won't cause excessive destruction, Vivienne documenting everything while Mara offers tactical suggestions and Celine provides running commentary that's more entertaining than useful. By the time the sun starts setting I'm exhausted, not from mana depletion but from the mental effort of constant restraint.

  Walking back to the estate, Celine linking her arm through mine in a gesture that's casually affectionate, I realize I'm actually looking forward to the next two weeks. Learning about this world, training with these girls, preparing for whatever awaits at the Academy. It's purpose, direction, something I haven't had in years.

  "Tomorrow we work on etiquette," Vivienne announces.

  I groan. "Can't we do more combat training?"

  "You need to know how to navigate noble society without accidentally insulting someone important."

  "What if I want to intentionally insult someone important?"

  "Then you need to know the rules so you can break them."

  "Oh. That's surprisingly devious."

  "I contain multitudes."

  Mara laughs, actual genuine amusement, and Celine squeezes my arm. "This is going to be fun. I can feel it."

  "Your definition of fun concerns me, to be honest."

  "You'll get used to it."

  "People keep saying that."

  "Because it's true," all three say in unison.

  I shake my head but I'm smiling, can't help it, and for the first time since arriving here I think maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe being stuck in another world with three chaotic nobles and a body full of demonic power is exactly what I needed, even if I didn't know it.

  We'll see how I feel after the dungeon crawl.