The clock in the square started to chime, loud enough to rattle the windows and make a few students jump. There were twelve distinct rings, meaning that it was time to get lunch.

  Lyra blinked herself awake before her head could drop forward again. She hadn't meant to drift, but glyph-forming always felt like trying to force her mind into a box it didn't want to stay in. She used will-shaping. That was what made sense to her. That was what her body and mana understood. But the curriculum insisted sigilry and glyphwork were "essential for well-rounded casters," especially in the final year, so here she sat, trying not to fall asleep one diagram at a time.

  It had been roughly ten years since she came to Chronowell, which meant absolutely nothing here. Time bent around the city. The visitors who bought dungeon slots kept bringing news about Dane, as if it had happened two days ago. They said he was only on the second trial now.

  If that were true, the time distortion in Chronowell was worsening. Or the Crucible had decided to rewrite its rules again. Either way, it was strange hearing about someone who felt frozen in a moment she'd long since lived past.

  She was nearing the end of C-rank now. Cosmic energy barely moved anymore; it had slowed for everyone in the city, and the only thing still growing was skills that stubbornly crept upward whenever they felt like it. She didn't mind. She'd been stuck at level fifteen for nearly a century before she ever arrived here. Progress, slow or not, felt like a luxury compared to that.

  "Lyra. You're spacing again." Maxine's voice cut through her thoughts. The blonde leaned on her desk like she had front-row seats to Lyra's daydreams.

  "I wish I could float off like that," Ica said from her other side, her pink robe spilling over the floor, hair bobbed and neat, with an expression that was too innocent as always.

  "Shhh," Maxine whispered loudly. "She's the Teacher's pet now. Do you want to get turned into a frog?"

  "I don't see the problem," Ica said, confused. "Didn't you have a fling with an amphibious beastman?"

  Maxine's face went red so fast it was almost impressive.

  Lyra sighed and stretched, her back cracking in three places as she stood. "Is class already done?" She asked it slowly, still waking up and wiping sleep from her eyes.

  Students were already shoving books into bags, chairs scraping, pockets of chatter rising.

  "I wish I could be that carefree," Maxine muttered, but she didn't sound angry, just jealous in that harmless way.

  Lyra took a moment to look around the room. She had more friends here than she ever expected to. Most of them had been C-rank when she met them, and most of them still looked the same. Staying young wasn't always a blessing, but at least she wasn't the only one stuck in a body that didn't match. Still, she was old enough to be these women's grandmother.

  "Lyra, please stay back before lunch. I have news from the council." Professor Lindstrom cut through the Idle chatter.

  "What did I tell you... Lindy's pet?" Maxine said, looking at Ica, proud of the joke she had overused since Lyra had become the TA. "We will catch up with you later."

  Lyra stayed back and waved at the pair as they left the lecture hall, which could accommodate 300 students; however, only a tenth of those made it to the final year. The craftsmanship that went into the entire school had shocked Lyra, who came from a culture that knew only stone buildings. Here, though, apparently a shadow of some place called Am-er-i-ka, everything had been cinder block from something called concrete and wood.

  "What is it, Professor?" Lyra asked. It had been some time since she had nearly been suspended, but she still got a sense of dread when being held back after class.

  "Tomas has called for you, and I am to escort you." Professor Lindstrom said in a way that made it hard to tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

  They walked through the city silently, neither speaking. The City Hall building was a monument to splendor that made the ornate college look plain by comparison. Along the way, she saw Beastmen that she hadn't seen since arriving in Chronowell. It was relatively easy for Lyra to adapt to life in Chronowell, but Beastmen had taken longer to be accepted. Apparently, the place most people were from Earth had nothing but humans. And they were still getting used to more exotic races.

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  The small group came to a stop in front of a large office with a plaque that read "Chancellor."

  A large minotaur came out of the door wearing a suit that was out of place for a massive bull. "Tomas will see you now."

  Lyra almost didn't recognize him.

  Tomas sat behind his desk, half-hidden by a mountain of paperwork that seemed determined to swallow him whole. He pressed his worn stamp into the corner of a document, exhaled like the weight of the city sat on his ribs, and only then looked up as the door eased open.

  "Ah. Thank you for coming on such short notice," he said, voice warm but tired. "We're waiting on one more before we begin. Please, sit."

  Lyra and the Beastmen sank into the leather couch, which felt absurdly luxurious compared to the wooden benches of the academy. It wrapped around them like a cloud. Not a real one, she corrected herself, that was water vapor, all the Earthbound classes had forced their way into her head. The Legion had taught her war and tradition. Chronowell had overwritten half of that with math and chemistry.

  The door opened again just as she was getting used to just sitting and having time to think.

  An older man in his late forties, maybe early fifties, strode in with the steady confidence of someone who had lived their entire life in formation. His posture alone made Lyra straighten out.

  "Afternoon," he said. "I'll be your commander for this expedition, assuming you choose to accept it. Name's Rufus Seinfeld."

  Lyra's eyes drifted to the tattoo on his forearm: Earth letters, bold and clean. Above them, a globe with a stylized bird perched on top. And beneath it, the words Semper Fidelis.

  A Legion vow from her home. Was he a legion defect like her?

  Rufus continued, "Chronowell's thriving, but expansion comes with cost. We've opened five dungeon floors, families are establishing roots, and resources are thinning faster than projected."

  Tomas raised a hand gently. "If I may."

  Rufus dipped his chin and stepped back.

  Tomas addressed them all. "Daedala has been upfront with me. We've hit the bottom of what we once assumed was an endless well of cosmic energy. The spark of life grows from. Cultivators chase it, dungeons refine it, and our System consumes it faster than we realized." He waited a moment, letting that settle. "We can't produce more on our own. If Chronowell is going to keep growing, if we're going to keep our people safe, we need a fresh supply."

  Rufus picked up the thread. "That's where you come in. You know the Reach. You know the sands. Your job will be to hunt non-sentient beasts and recover artifacts, or anything holding cosmic energy that Daedala can break down and convert."

  Tomas nodded, jaw tightening. "If you accept, the System will lock your rank until the contract is fulfilled. All of the power you accumulate will return to the Daedala."

  A purple screen shimmered into existence before each of them.

  Lyra began to read.

  [Earthbound System – Job Board Update]

  New Job Posted by: Chancellor Tomas Spearfall

  Category: Expedition – High Risk

  Oversight: Daedala, Keeper of Skan

  Job Title:

  Skan Reclamation Expedition (Tier C)

  Summary:

  Chronowell's supply of Skan (cosmic energy) has reached critical levels. A team is required to travel into the Shattered Reach sands and recover Skan-rich materials for Daedala to process. Posting visible only to candidates with Reach familiarity or survival training.

  Objective:

  Collect monster cores from non-sentient beasts, resonant artifacts, ruins-grade relics, or any items identified by Daedala as high-yield. All recovered items once consumed will be transmitted to Daedala.

  Risks:

  High-level monsters (C–A Rank), ruin traps, sandstorm corruption zones, limited navigation markers, and possible contact with hostile Reach factions.

  Reward:

  Guardian stipend, priority housing and supplies, skill growth credited from survival feats, contribution credit toward city defense, and recognition in the Hall of Service.

  System Notice:

  Accepting this job will apply a temporary Rank Lock. Level and class progression will be suspended until the mission quota is fulfilled.

  Quota Required: 1,000 Skan Units (Standard Conversion)

  Requirements:

  C-Rank or higher, Reach or wilderness survival experience, willingness to travel outside Chronowell for extended periods, agreement to serve under Commander Rufus Seinfeld, and acceptance of System Binding.

  Additional Note from Chancellor Tomas:

  "Chronowell cannot endure without fresh Skan. Those who accept this mission safeguard every family within these walls."

  Do you accept the job: Skan Reclamation Expedition (Tier C)? Y/N

  Lyra stared at the glowing prompt. She thought long about it, not because she wanted to keep gaining power, but because she genuinely enjoyed her life here and the people in it. She looked at Ms. Lindstrom and saw the same confusion reflected in her eyes.

  The final line echoed in her mind: Chronowell cannot endure without fresh Skan.

  She selected: Y.