The morning began with a sound piercing my brain, similar to the screech of a chainsaw. An alarm clock.

  "Just turn it off!" I yelled, pulling the blanket over my head.

  The roommate, who was already rustling around the room in full swing, didn't even flinch. He walked over to my bed and impassively inquired:

  "Aren't you running late for school, by any chance?"

  "What? What school..." I buried myself deeper into the pillow. "I'm sleeping. The world can wait."

  "It's not good to skip classes on the very first day," the 'old man' said edifyingly.

  "I don't care. If school starts this early, it means it was created for torture, not for knowledge. I want to sleep."

  I was almost falling back into the blissful darkness when suddenly the world exploded in an icy cascade. Cold water poured down the back of my neck, soaking the sheets and knocking the last remnants of sleep out of me.

  "AAAAH! What are you doing, you maniac?!" I jumped up on the bed, shaking myself off like a wet dog.

  The roommate calmly placed the empty glass on the table and smiled radiantly:

  "Good morning, Arkgrim. Freshness is the key to success."

  "Alright, alright, I'm getting up!" I grumbled, wringing out the edge of my t-shirt. "You're such a sadist, seriously."

  I trudged into the bathroom. I hovered in front of the faucet for about three minutes, trying to remember which way to turn it to get warm water. My memory still resembled a corrupted hard drive—there are fragments, but no system whatsoever. Remembering the bottle in my bag, I immediately shook out one pill and swallowed it. My head cleared up a bit right away, and the annoying buzzing in my temples quieted down.

  Walking out of the room, I had already slung my backpack on, but the 'old man' blocked my path.

  "Are you going to go just like that?"

  I looked myself over: light pants, a t-shirt. Seems decent enough.

  "Well, yeah. What's wrong? It's fashionable, youthful."

  "It's winter outside, genius," he nodded at the frost-covered window. "Minus ten. You won't make it to the corner before turning into an icicle."

  I cursed and dug into my backpack. It turned out that the hospital had carefully packed my things in there. I fished out warm pants and pulled a thick hoodie over my head.

  "There, now I'm in armor. Later, old man, don't miss me too much."

  Stepping outside, I felt the freezing air nip at my nose. Alright, the school is a couple of kilometers away... On foot? No way. Ten flights of stairs in the morning were more than enough for me. I pulled out my phone and opened the taxi app.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  'Economy — 15 dollars. Comfort — 30 dollars. Business class — 150 dollars.'

  "Business class?" I squinted. "Hmm, sounds like something for kings. Wonder what costs that much money."

  I tapped the screen with my finger, not thinking about the price. Five grand on the card was burning a hole in my pocket, and curiosity was stronger than greed. Three minutes later, a massive black SUV rolled up to the entrance silently, gleaming in the rays of the winter sun. A driver in a suit, white gloves, and a stone-cold face stepped out of it. He walked around the car and politely opened the back door for me.

  "Please, get in," he said, bowing his head slightly.

  'Wow, holy crap!' I thought, trying to maintain an impassive look, as if I only rode in these. 'I should have ordered one of these from the hospital yesterday too.'

  Inside, it was more spacious than in that old Toyota, and it smelled of expensive leather. I sprawled out on the back seat with a flourish, crossing my legs. The car started moving so smoothly that I didn't even feel the motion.

  While we drove, I examined the passersby through the tinted glass. School... supposedly people study there, get some kind of knowledge. Why do I need that? But since I'm getting a ride—we'll see.

  The SUV braked softly in front of massive gates. The driver got out again, opened the door for me, and froze in waiting. I climbed out of the warm cabin, adjusted my backpack, and stared at the building of School No. 72.

  "We've arrived," I muttered to myself. "Well, good luck to me in this temple of science."

  I strode confidently toward the main entrance when a security guard blocked my path. By the looks of him—a typical old soldier who sees a potential troublemaker in every teenager.

  "Hey, kid, where are you rushing off to so early?" he grumbled, blocking the way. "It's only six in the morning."

  I looked at him with genuine bewilderment.

  "So what?" I dropped shortly.

  "'So what'," he mimicked. "Kids these days..."

  He grumbled something displeased under his breath, but clicked the turnstile bar anyway, letting me inside. I had already passed the lobby and was about to delve deeper into the empty corridor when the guard called out to me again:

  "Halt, kid! Where are you barging off to? Classes only start at eight!"

  I froze in place, feeling righteous anger boiling up inside me.

  "What?! At eight?!" I almost howled. "How does that work?"

  'THAT OLD GEEZER!' flashed through my head. The roommate purposely dumped water on me two hours early? Oh, I'll make him pay for this. The hidden spoon will be just the beginning of my revenge.

  "And what am I supposed to do now?" I asked the guard, feeling my eyelids fill with lead.

  "How should I know? What grade are you even in, hero?"

  I hesitated. Only the name of the school on the piece of paper surfaced in my memory. But then my brain provided a surprisingly logical answer:

  "I'm new. Today is my first day."

  "Ah, that makes sense then," the old man softened a bit immediately. "What's your name?"

  "Arkgrim."

  "And your last name?"

  "Helv."

  The guard went behind his desk, pulled out some battered logbook, and began to intently check something on his phone. A couple of minutes later, he looked up at me, and his eyes reflected genuine suspicion.

  "Listen, kid... how old are you?"

  "Fourteen," I answered, not understanding the catch.

  The guard slowly stood up, looking me up and down.

  "What are you, a child prodigy or something? Or for what merits were you assigned to the final year of high school at fourteen? We've got eighteen-year-old moose sitting here, and you only reach their shoulders."

  I just shrugged. How should I know what they cooked up in that Sector Zero or wherever they made my documents?

  "Alright, it's a murky business," the old man grumbled, returning to his crossword puzzle. "Your first class is at eight. History. Room four hundred and one."

  "Okay," I nodded. Took a couple of steps and turned around again. "And where is that exactly?"

  "Fourth floor," he waved a hand toward the stairs. "That's it, go, don't be an eyesore."

  Fourth floor... By the looks of it, there was no elevator here either. I looked at the endless steps and realized that my limit for physical activity was exhausted for today.

  I found some hard chair in the hallway, plopped down on it, and stretched my legs out. The silence of the school, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock on the wall, worked better than any sleeping pill. My head dropped to my chest, and I began rapidly plunging into sleep, hoping that in two hours I wouldn't be woken up by another glass of cold water.