"Pancakes, he says. The boy wants to start with pancakes," Maya muttered, shaking her head as she navigated the narrow, dim hallway of the dormitory. "You know, most people start with toast. Or cereal. Things that don't require structural integrity, Gabriel."Gabriel trailed behind her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He felt like he was walking on eggshells—or more accurately, he felt like the world was a giant, fragile eggshell that he was liable to shatter at any moment. "Pancakes are a classic, Maya. Besides, it’s not like I’m asking to bake a soufflé. That would be suicide."Maya stopped at the heavy, scarred wooden door of the communal kitchen. She glanced back at him, her sapphire eyes sharp. "Keep that attitude, and we’re going to be banned from this floor, too. You realize this is the only kitchen in the west wing that still has working gas lines, right?""I’ll be careful," Gabriel promised, though his voice lacked conviction. He stepped inside, the room smelling fain

The silence in the communal kitchen was heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic drip-drip of the faucet that Gabriel had forgotten to tighten. The lingering ozone, sharp and cold, still danced in the air like dust motes caught in a beam of light."We need to dump this," Maya said, her voice a sharp whisper as she gestured toward the pot of glowing, battery-tasting sludge.Gabriel scrambled to his feet, his knees popping. "Way ahead of you. I’ll run it down to the incinerator, or maybe just bury it in the campus garden. Can a garden die from eating magic soup?""Don't be dramatic, just get rid of—"The heavy oak door at the end of the corridor creaked open. The footsteps were rhythmic, deliberate, and entirely devoid of the frantic, messy energy of the typical student body. They belonged to someone who owned the floor, the walls, and the very air they were breathing.Maya froze, her sapphire-tinted hands still faintly glowing. She doused the light instantly, but the air remained ionized

The walk back to the dormitory felt longer than the trip to the market. Every shadow stretched with intent, and the ambient noise of the city seemed to press against Gabriel’s eardrums like a physical weight. He didn't turn his head, but his peripheral vision remained locked on the hooded figure that had shadowed their exit."They stopped following at the gate," Maya muttered, her voice low as they reached the familiar, scuffed wood of the dormitory entrance.Gabriel let out a shuddering breath, his hands finally relaxing from the white-knuckled grip he’d held for the last twenty minutes. "Are you sure?""I’m sure. They didn't want to get this close to the campus wards. Too much magical surveillance here," Maya replied, pushing open the heavy front door. "Come on. We have work to do.""Work?" Gabriel groaned, stepping into the dim, buzzing hallway of their dorm. "Maya, I’ve been running on adrenaline and fear for half the day. Can’t we just call it?""No," she said, cutting him off wi

The lecture had ended in an atmosphere thick with unspoken electricity, leaving Gabriel with a headache that pulsed in time with the faint, dissonant hum emanating from Leo’s desk. But the moment the bell rang, he and Maya had vanished into the corridor, bypassing the front of the room where the air tasted like sour ozone.Now, standing in the communal kitchen, the silence of the dorm felt like a reprieve. Or it would have, if the pantry didn't look like a crime scene."Okay," Gabriel said, his voice echoing slightly against the bare shelves. "I could have sworn the flour was on the left, and the onions were in the ceramic crock. Where are they?"Maya stepped inside, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the empty space. She reached out, her fingers dancing in the air near the shelf edge, leaving a faint, shimmering trail of sapphire light. "They didn't just disappear, Gabe. Look at the dust patterns. Someone cleared this out with a gust spell, likely within the last hour."Gabriel felt h

The fluorescent lights of the communal kitchen hummed with a low, rhythmic vibration that seemed to match the quiet settling of the dorm. Gabriel sat at the small prep table, his notebook splayed open. Beside him, a container of actual, non-sabotaged leftovers—a simple pasta dish they’d managed to scavenge from the cafeteria—sat between them.Maya was currently doodling in the margin of her own textbook, her movements fluid and unhurried."You’re staring at that physics problem again, Gabe," she said, not looking up from her page. "If you glare at it any harder, the ink might actually give up and rewrite itself."Gabriel huffed, leaning back in his creaky wooden chair. "I’m not glaring. I’m analyzing. There’s a difference.""Is there? Because your eyebrows have been doing a very impressive impression of a thunderstorm for the last ten minutes." She nudged the container toward him with her elbow. "Eat. You haven't touched your food since we sat down."Gabriel picked up his fork, twirli