Emica Kana is 18 years old. She has always loved writing stories., They were her escape from reality. She always wished that a man would come and save her like they always do in the stories.
Well, she got her wish.
Emica entered a small writing school that was near a river. Her friend had joined her. But, the teacher had an odd vibe around him. Emica became a little scared of him. She especially became scared when the teacher started to pay more attention to her. One day, when she runs from him, she falls into a world of adventure, risk, and abnormalities. 
But, her teacher is what scares her more than this new world. What secrets and schemes did he use to get her here?

The apocalypse brought magic into the world, and caused everything to be in chaos for several years. Now though, things have calmed down, and humans are learning to master magic. One young man is already a master of medicine, using both standard treatments, and magic to help his patients.

The language learning course which tested the ability of the students' minds to read, and comprehend a certain text, acknowledged the variety of literary pieces across the world, expressed one's sentiments, and viewpoints through creative writing, and gave up a speech to the public with a required self-confidence and charisma had conquered the class of Yeats.

"English Time!" a classmate exclaimed.

"Ugh. Why on earth..." Noah said, lying her head onto the armrest.

The teacher had arrived with her male student who assisted her to carry on her stationery materials and left afterwards. 

She expressed her warmest greeting to the class, "Good morning, everyone."

"Gooood Morningggg, Ma'am Rhea," the entire students responded in dullness, deliberately prolonging the words.

"Again, good morning, Yeats."

"Good Morning, Ma'am Rhea! We are happy to see you today!"

The teacher nodded, and commanded them, "Okay, you may now take your seats."

"So Yeats, in this period, we would be having an activity, and I'm sure you would definitely love to hate this one."

The students plastered a counterfeit grin on their faces as they listened to their teacher's introduction. It looked as if their incoming task would be an "easy yet a lazy job" for them.

"You will be composing an original poetry! Isn't beautiful? A form of art of regurgitating all your personal experiences, feelings, aspirations, and showing off your ideals and visions of the world around us by using a piece of paper and a pen. What lies ahead of our future? Who shall be the one to pass this on for the next generation. It's only you, the young ones. As our beloved national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal quoted, 'The youth is the hope of our nation'," Ma'am Rhea Azuela dramatically spoke, and her fists were firmly closed.

Everyone groaned with the exemption of Ma'am Rhea whose energy was trying hard to somehow radiate the entire classroom.

"Hmm... Okay, you only have two options: To create or not to create. My role as a teacher is simply taking down of your grades and morals in your report card. If you want a failing grade, why not? I'll give it to you. Other than that, what does youth always say? You only live once, eh? So, I won't stop you from not submitting your requirement," Ma'am Rhea shrugged.

"Anyways, for those who wished to conform to the task, listen up. Before you start writing, I would love to give a bit of a background about our today's lesson. I'm sure most of you familiar with them. We've known different lyrical poems, epic poems and etcetera. Now, I'll ask you. What is haiku? Anyone?"

"Just give me a gist of it."

Students were staring at each other's eyes, and no one dared to speak. Few were looking at the white board. Most were avoiding an eye contact from their instructor. Some of them were gaping at the outside of the room. Ma'am Rhea whined and continued.

"Guys, you have to talk. Remember, this is an English class. You have to hone your communication skills. How are you going supposed to learn if you don't utilize your mouths? Ha? Come on. No answers are wrong in language. It's more on thoughts and ideas that we should express. You should be engaging more on interaction. And pretty please, let's help each other out. Don't leave me hanging guys, Okay?"

"Now, any thoughts from this group?" she asked, looking at the first row. Ma'am Rhea was about to choose her lucky victim when one of her students raised her right hand, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss? What do you think? What is haiku?"

"May I go to the comfort room?" the wench replied.

Some of the senior high students were retaining their soon-to-be-bursted laughter. Ma'am Rhea sighed, and said, "Yes, you may."

The young lass stood up straight, and said, "But, If I am not mistaken, haiku refers to a five-seven-five syllable count in a one three-phrase stanza. It is also originated in Japan."

"Again, thank you for your permission, Ma'am."

The schoolgirl went to the school comfort room, leaving the entire class in amusement. Ma'am Rhea snapped her fingers to get back her little ones' focus.

"That's my girl! She got it right. Finally, someone saved you from danger, eh?" the teacher cunningly grinned, and the student were then relieved. 

"And since this is a surprise activity, you need not to compose a haiku. Still, it is included in your quarterly exams. Instead, I challenge you to write a poem. Freestyle. Whether you want to have your piece that consists of a rhyme, or a regular meter. It's up to you. Make sure it has three stanzas. Do you understand me, Yeats?"

Dassah lifted up her hand up, and called, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss Dassah?"

"What would the topic be about?" the student asked.

"Hmm... Good question," Ma'am Rhea nodded, and began considering a great theme for her class's written poetry. Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped up. She smiled and responded to her student.

"It should be based on your personal experience. For example, your bonding with your family and friends. Maybe you want to write about your life as a student, and whatsoever. The sky's the limit."

"So, any questions?"

The class replied, "None."

"Okay. You may now start. And please let me check your composition before the bell rings whether it is done or not. I'll give a plus point and a secret award for those who could create a finished piece," Ma'am Rhea announced, and sat down on her chair to relax her voluptuous legs.

"Ma'am, what is the reward?" one man asked.

"It won't be confidential anymore, if I'll tell you, mister," she said.

The students proceeded writing on their mandatory art work. Creative juices were flooding up inside of their right brains. Tearing papers were echoing everywhere in the section. Loud mental groans from every school teens dominated in the class. Frustration mixed with determination to make a possible masterpiece were obviously transparent on their hopeless faces. Dassah who eventually ended her write-up stood up from her armchair, and submitted it to her English teacher. 

Ma'am Rhea was impressed, and took her ample time to read her three-stanza poem. As she perused Dassah's work, she smiled in delight.

"Miss Quinn."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I have a dumb question," the instructor said. She glanced at her unknowing student in mischief, and continued her talk.

" Are you in love?"

"NO WAY, MA'AM," Dassah yelled at her teacher. Her classmates instantly shifted their gaze at the two. She became flustered, and softly spoke, "Umm... Sorry, ma'am. I was just shocked. But, no, I am not, ma'am."

"And what makes you think that I'm uh..."

Ma'am Rhea replied, still smiling, "In love?"

Dassah slowly nodded in embarrassment,"Uh-huh."

"It's just my assumption. It seems the message of your poem conveys about a clichè romance like this love at first sight kind of scene. Ah. Reminds me of my first young love,"  Ma'am Rhea Azuela said, feeling the nostalgia of her past teen era.

"And, what's even more interesting is that I instructed you to have a poem that talks about your life encounters." Dassah's teacher continued.

"Then, I thought I might be wrong, so which is why I asked you."

Dassah again nodded as an abiding servant, and the English teacher spoke again herself, "So, mind if I ask you the story behind this piece of yours?"

"Um... Sure, Ma'am. But, it already says it all," Dassah said.

"It's basically this. I met a guy at a convenience store, and I did not forsee anything that we would see each other for the second time around. And for me, I was happy it happened for the both of us."

Ma'am Rhea could no longer hide her squeals, and let it out without any reservation.

"Oh, ignore my giggles. The story was too cute. But hey, Miss Quinn. This is your prize," she commented, and gestured her to move closer. Dassah came near to her instructor in obedience.

"You'll present it to the other class."

"Ma'am?!" Dassah exclaimed in terror.

"Shh... Don't tell anyone," she warned the young lady.

"But, but..."

Ma'am Rhea smiled, and said, "You may go back to your seat, Miss Quinn."

Dassah heaved a sigh of defeat, and move herself back to her armchair.  Floating her countless regrets of submitting her poem, the young lady had enough of the trap, and let the situation sail by itself.

Dassah Quinn had left no choice but to stay with a perfect stranger. Yearning for someone who would help them get out of trouble and leave the olden storage room is her gleam of hope. 

In the course of incarceration, Dassah unexpectedly entailed herself in a scheme of discerning the nondescript man, One One.

                "Good morning classmates. I am Marcus, an exchange student from the Philippines. I am 19 years old, majoring in Creative Writing. I hope to spend the semester with fun and learnings with you. Thank you!"
                I can feel the tension building on my knees. Good thing I finally finished introducing myself in front of the class; I can just walk my nervousness away.
                Their clap conceals the awkward rhythm of my breathing, and I thank God for helping me fake my confidence. The room is filled with Koreans who must be all in the faculty of English. Only few of them seem to be glad I am here because only a few of them smiled at me as I struggled to walk normally to the last seat of the room. I don't know I should feel ostracized but knowing that I am the only one seating at the last row makes me feel unwelcomed in the class.
                "Thank you Marcus for that wonderful introduction. We look forward to studying with you in this class." The voice of Mr. Hwang is warm, but it sounded insincere at some point. The shift of attention is fast when the door suddenly swings open into a near crash!
                I expected a clumsy person to spring behind the door, but the sudden revelation shows a tall, muscular, and tanned guy who must have opened the door with his foot rather than with his hand. He bows to the professor before continuing to walk towards me. Towards me?!! A rush of adrenaline kind of brought me back to my senses. Although his entrance is noticeable and grand, I forced myself to keep my eyes on the floor until he passes by my place.
                I count down to keep myself put together. I know in few seconds, he will be gone. The throb of my heart demands to be felt as my chest pumps slowly but loudly.
                Three.
                I can see his shadow approaching the aisle.
                Two.
                His sneakers are neatly white, and so is the skin of his ankles left uncovered by his tight jeans.
                One.
                I close my eyes to savor the relief of having succeeded. I release a ton of air to unload the heaviness on my chest. I endeavor to make it discreet as possible, and right after the air release, I sniff the same amount back into my nostrils.
                I unleash a smile as I open both of my eyes to transport me back to reality. But the figure that I witness is not the one that I expect.
                His right arm looks hard and intensively muscular. The veins that sit under his skin are embossed and that mere view assures how much muscle he has underneath that shirt. No matter how I try to stop myself from ignoring the current situation, the tension is just heavily unbearable especially when all my new classmates start to look towards our direction.
                I raise my sight to meet his eyes. The dark lashes that border the shape of his eyes make his stare intense but not rude. His eyes are deeply dark and the white part of his eyes balls makes it even like jet black.
                He gestures his right hand again to show me he is handing me something. The jerk in is hand puts me back to reality, and it must have taken me more than 10 seconds to wake up from my delusion.
                "I don't have the whole day to hold this for you." His voice just seems to shake the hell out of me. Now, it is clear that he is standing there because of me, and I need to make sense why.
                His eyes shift from mine to his hand. It is a plastic card that appears to be a dormitory card. As soon as I grab the card from his hand, he spils the details in a swift.
                "The room is 408. Fourth floor. New Men's Dormitory near the rear gate of the university." Then he walks away to the back seat opposite to where I am.
                The happening is very quick that I barely comprehend it at all. My classmates start mumbling things with their seatmate. They are obviously about me or that guy, and what just happened between us, as evidently seen in the way they glance at every time they say something.
The instructor clears his throat. At that same time, the whole class brings out a piece of paper for the first writing activity of the semester.
"In 5 minutes, you are to write a free verse that will reveal to us a portion of yourself that you want us to know about. After which, I will call names to read their outputs in front. 5 minutes starts now."
 
                In the first few minutes of that time, I wonder what part of me I am ready to reveal to these people. Culturally, we are different, but that difference does not guarantee that they will appreciate the uniqueness I possess. Should I talk about the goals I brought with me to coming to this foreign land? Should I write about the ethnic beauty that runs through my veins? Or should I poetically explain about my gender? That I am not specifically attracted to a certain gender of a person? That my heart throbs for a person who has an enchanting personality and amazing kind of intelligence? And if I were to uncover that, will I be ready to face the consequences? Will I be accepted?
 
                And with only a minute left to write, I opted to free myself because I know it is the only way I can be at my best.

In that land he barely knew, he convinced himself to dare to play the most dangerous game. It is either he falls or he fails. Love just cant be won over.

Callea kept of shoving spoonful of food into her mouth because she couldn't think of gross and scary things during dinner to negate the captivating view of Deive's smile at her while they were eating. She just focused on eating a lot to her deep frustration.

"Hmmm ... this will ruin my diet. Homecooked meals make forget about discipline in food," Deive moaned after slurping bulalo or beef stew bone.

"Food is supposed to be devoured and enjoyed," Callea assured.

"I'm in trouble with my gym instructor. This bulalo is to die for."

"Marina cooked that one."

When she took Marina under her roof, she saw her potential in her cooking. She was so good that even just a simple vegetable soup could taste gourmet-ish. That was why she had fun teaching her her grandmother's recipe and some recipe of her own.

"She's good. How long have she been here with you? "asked the young man.

"Two years."

"Why did you get her as your helper?" he asked casually.

Her eyes became sharp. "Marina is not a hired help. She's a friend. She is my companion."

"Really?" he asked with disbelief.

She tightly held the steak knife and pressed her lips. What was he trying to imply? That Marina should not be her friend because she was a hunchback? Was she stooping low in his opinion?

So Deive was no different from the cruel people outside. They judge people base on their appearance and now on substance. She loathed superficial people. Marina was a good person. Why should people judge her because of her deformity? As if she wished to be born a hunchback. Too bad. Marina thought Deive was a nice guy.

Deive looked alarmed and stopped eating. "Hey! Don't get me wrong. I do not judge your friendship with Marina. But it is just you two in this huge mansion. What if some robbers decided to come here? Who will protect you?" His concern looked real.

"Thanks for the concern, but no one would dare come to this place.

It helped that people thought her home was a haunted house home. It was so notorious that even thieves won't set foot on the place.  It would be difficult for them to take large antique furniture in the mansion. It was not easy to steal. There are no precious heirloom or money there. Everything she needed was arranged by her grandfather - from paying the utility bills to supplies. She also knew that  her grandfather placed guards to watch over the mansion. She was okay with that as long as they remained invisible and won't interfere with her life. 

Callea sighed with relief. It was comforting to know that he was not judging Marina. Marina was her friend. She won't allow anyone to hut her friend.

"According to your grandfather, you don't leave the mansion at all.  What do you do when you're cooped up here?" he asked with curiosity.

"I have online classes. I am taking up Creative writing. Because I like to make graphics novels. The old books and the library helped me enrich my imagination. I am also working with several novels. So I have a lot in my hands. "

She didn't mention that she was a glowing graphics horror novelist. Her published graphic novels had followers on only in the Philippines but also in other countries. Her publisher Philippine-based only but was able to get other readers abroad. Thanks to the Internet.

But she used a pen name to hide her identity. Only her publisher knew her information. While she was a mysterious artist to the rest of the world.

"What are you currently working on? Romance? Fiction? Political satire? "

She smiled sheepishly. "I will tell you once it is published." She was not comfortable showing it to someone else once her works were still raw. Even in Marina was forbidden to see it. It was included in her eccentricities as an artist. "How about you? You work for Hontiveros Coco Industries you, right? "

"I used to work for our family business. Not anymore," he informed her with a sad voice.

"Then what do you do now?"

"A professional bum," he answered with a gloat. "That is why my grandfather is giving me away. Is it okay for you to marry someone like me?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. There was also nothing she could do because her grandfather wants her to marry him. Even if he was a terrorist, she would marry him if that was the only way to ensure to get the mansion.

"If  its okay with you too eat the sweet potato tops and other vegetables in our backyard, then I am cool with it."

His rich laughter echoed inside the house. She was stunned. Suddenly there was life and light inside the mansion that had not been heard for a long time.

"You will feed me potato tops and grass? Great!" He tapped the table. "So, it means I have to learn how to grow weed from now on."

She looked away from him, her heart constricted. She loathed his smiling face. She loathed his laugh. It touched her gloomy heart. It was not good.

"If you are tired of sweet potato tops, you can dig for sweet potatoes underneath. We have lots of root crops here."

"Don't worry. I'm not with Hontiveros Coco anymore but I am working on a project with some of my friends. A pirate cruise ship. "

"Wow! So it was like an old, dusty pirate ship like the one on Pirates of the Carribean?" Callea's eyes sparkled when she thought of the skeletons of dead pirates rising from the depths of the water to wreak havoc to the world. There were underwater treasures guarded by a giant monster. It was exciting! They finally had something in common.

Deive shook his head.   "It would be an elegant floating hotel. I really want to travel the world when on board the ship. I think it is cool. " It presents the palms. "Do you want to go with me when we married?"

She looked at his stretched hand. It was a splendid invitation for any normal, starry-eyed woman who was in for a romance with a handsome man.

She smiled a bit. She was not directly refusing his offer to travel on his cruise ship. She had no plans to get out of the mansion and travel the world. The world was too vast and too cruel for the likes of her. She was happy to spend the rest of the life inside the mansion, away from the crazy world.

An arranged marriage to a perfect bride.

To keep him in line, playboy Deive Hontiveros needs to marry Callea Lopez so he could start his own business. He thought he got lucky when he sees how beautiful and caring Callea is.

She lives in a haunted mansion though and he got plagued by a mysterious ghost of a woman and her cat from hell.

He must protect his bride at all cost. 

But what if Callea is one with the darkness?

A fiber of connection from miles away...



Our places on this earth are divided by oceans setting us apart from one continent to another. Several countries speaking several languages to understand each other. People with several cultures and beliefs. Different personalities and opinions.

In this chaotic world, we live in called real life we search for a place to escape from that reality. To be accepted as who or what we are. We have found that in the music we sing. In the books, we read. In the movies we watch. In the places, we travel and visit. Everywhere in which we get inspiration to face reality head-on.

We write stories or poems to inspire others, reading the words we weave from our own world. For some of us, it is simply an escape from reality into a world in which we can use our imaginations to dream make-believe or to live our secret fantasies or just plain be creative.

Getting on the web gives us more ways to share and get connected to other people with the same kind of thinking from across the ocean. Some of the people we meet along the way give us reasons to smile again. It's where we become friends, get to know them well, and get so close that we even trust them enough to share our own greatest fears.

I was a living a kind of living death when I found solace here on Stories Space. A place to write, camouflaging my hatred and sadness from myself when I was reading all the poetry and fictional fantasies created by the writers. I found another escape from reality and indulged in reading.

My feelings from my own troubles in life had made me feel so empty that only through laughter and reading could I be free and somewhat whole again.

I made my own heaven in purgatory.

A friend told me to write down all of my pains and troubles in poems or stories. Another friend of mine told me to be fierce in my poetry writing. I found friends who helped me give my own life a reason to continue living again through writing.

Writing makes me calm every time my mind gets into a panic mode. The pains and the fears of the unknown are my muses for writing.

When I met someone who understood me and made me feel needed and loved my poetry changed its tune. It made me think of happy thoughts. I got inspired by the things I saw and the happy memories of my childhood that I could write about.

Painful memories and realities were always there and so I wrote about them from time to time.

When that someone left me I continued writing. The same inner muse I had gained I used to keep on writing.

Then, out of nowhere, I got to know you. I became happy again. This time I got even more inspired and more creative, experimenting with my writings.

I set aside my shyness and reservations to write creatively. I still can't overcome some of my shyness and reservation but I am blooming, inspired by you.

You became my muse.

The man in the moon. The stars in my darkest hours. When at night I can't sleep thinking of you calms me to sleep.

The sunshine after the heavy storm. Where all the dead trees come to life again. That keeps me warm when everything gets chilly.

My own little heaven in my real life purgatory.

Writing...

Rune's Prose & Poetries

LUCID DREAMS

my wandering crazy mind is just doodling in the sands...

it's just me ...this is a collection of my amateurish writings of poetry, short stories, and prose...

These are all short stories compilation a different story per chapter.

WARNING: Adult contents, please be advised that you're reading EROTICA


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
RuneMcGrey
Copyright©2014-present

All writings remains MEG Cabingan a.k.a. RuNe also known as runemcgrey's property.
Don't use it for any other purposes without her permission.

Dade's POV:

" Alright class, today we will discuss about Hackers. "
Our boring teacher said starting the class and also starting his lecture, while I started to loll over my seat's armchair and used my right hand as support for my lazy head.

Oh how I wish to have the power to control time, so that I could quicken the hours I'm wasting inside this wretched university. If a college degree wasn't necessary to find a decent job, I wouldn't be here right now.

I have better things to do than to stay inside this room and listen to a guy who just read words out loud from a projected power point presentation. You call this teaching? Pathetic.

" Which one of you can tell me what Hackers are? What do they do? "
Mr. Alfonso, our Advance Programming instructor asked looking around for someone foolish enough to fall for his trap. After a few seconds, one of my classmates raised his hand. He stood up after being called by our instructor.

" Hackers are people who uses computers to trespass and destroy, or steal unauthorized data from computer servers. "
My fellow classmate answered with an assured and confident look which made me let out a smirk, his answer was pretty shallow. That answer isn't enough for someone like Mr. Alfonso.

" Wrong answer, Mr. Vinieza. That will be a deduction of 5 points in the next quiz. "
Our instructor quickly said and smiled playfully. My classmate shook his head in disbelief as he sat down on his chair.

This is how strict and complicated Mr. Alfonso is. Even though your answer is somewhat correct, he will still consider it as incorrect. I've heard rumors about him that he doesn't take his job seriously as an IT instructor, and I'm starting to think that those rumors are true. One thing is certain though ..

He's one bipolar guy ..

" Hackers are personalities who invade local or foreign computer servers and either steal private information from it or destroy it completely, hackers finds weak spots on server's security systems so that they can trespass inside the server without getting caught. "
He corrected Mr. Vinieza's answer as he started walking around the classroom like any normal teacher would.

See? If you think about it, my classmate's answer was correct. Our instructor just elaborated his answer. Haha.

" Sir, isn't my answer correct? "
With disappointment written across his face, the mentioned student stood up again.

" If I said it's incorrect, it is not correct. Understand Mr. Vinieza? "
Our instructor coldly insisted as tension began to fill the classroom. He looks intimidating, but I know he becomes an incompetent fool once you beat him in reasoning. It's tested and proven. Hehe.

" Ye-yes sir. I'm sorry. "
My poor classmate apologized with his head down unable to face our instructor.

" As I was saying, there are two common types of hackers. The black hat and the white hat hackers, but there are ten types of hackers overall in the modern era. Types of hackers are distinguished by colored hats. "
Mr. Alfonso continued his lecture like nothing happened.

Just get this over with already! I already know all these things!

" White hatters are also known as ethical hackers, these types of hackers usually helps companies or people in improving security on their servers. White hackers mostly works as an IT security or tech support in modern companies. "

White hatters are basically people who waste their skills in hacking to help insignificant people for money. What a shame ..

" Black hatters, on the other hand are also called crackers. Like mentioned earlier, they find weak spots in securities of unauthorized servers to attack it and either steal data or information, or to destroy it completely. Most black hatters are hackers who hack banks and important credit card information. "
I noticed that he became serious while talking about the black hat hackers. He is obviously emphasizing that black hatters are bad guys.

Which is true ..

" So if you students dream of becoming a hacker one day, become a white hatter and help other people instead of becoming a virtual burglar. "
He added with authority in his words. It's kind of rare for him to give advice to his students.

" Sir! I'll definitely become a white hatter! "
Another classmate of mine stood up with enthusiasm, and talked like she can become a hacker if she wants to. Haha.

It's easier said than done my dear classmate.

" That's the spirit! Ms. Julieza. Because as the computer era progresses, us white hatters are getting outnumbered by black hatters every year. Black hatters are nothing but criminals to our modern world. We need to work together to stop them. "

I secretly smirked after hearing his short and lousy speech, he thinks it's that easy to stop the black hatters ..

Hacking isn't just a crime, it's an art. If you're not creative and wise enough to understand the tricky virtual patterns, then you would just be fooling yourself.

They can't stop us with words alone ..

It's kinda funny thinking that the enemy they are cursing about right now, is here inside this very classroom ..

Little do they know that anytime, my virtual dagger could stab their server's throats ..

Dade Anlace, a son of an infamous hacker centers his life around the art of hacking. Due to the imprisonment of his father and her mother being long dead, he is forced to live alone as he starts a new semester on his third year in college.

In the midst of all his mischievous deeds inside and outside the campus, a new detective club has been established in the university.

Will the student detectives stop "The Virtual Dagger"? Or will the emergence of another mysterious hacker stop his reign?

After taking a short break, the Instructor led the trio into the dazzling place of learning. Shin and the twins were gasping in wonder as they walked through the vast hallways of the Athenaeum. Everything here was so foreign to them. They were used to seeing opulent structures in the Main Hall, but the serenity and purity of the place made it seem out of this world.

Soon, the four individuals reached a counter. The desk was made of ceramic, and one could tell that it had been standing for countless of years. Although it was old, the table was still extremely sturdy as it was able to hold the weight of the numerous books and paper resting on it.

Behind the counter, a middle-aged, bespectacled man was busy writing something down and did not realise the arrival of the Shin and the others.

"As usual, Favian is busy at work..."

The Instructor took one look at the man and began to sigh. Evidently, the Instructor knew this man who was writing furiously.

"Hey, Favian! Favian!"

Shouting the man's name, the Instructor placed his hand on the desk.

"Woah! Who is calling my name? Ugh, it's just you huh? What are you doing here so late at night, Lou?"

Noticing the Instructor, the man named Favian stopped his task and focused his attention on the man who disturbed him.

"Night? It's already morning! The sun has started to rise!"

"What? It's daybreak already?! Damn it, time sure flies..."

"You do know that working overnight is bad for your body?"

"What are you, my mom? Here to check on my condition?"

"I couldn't care less!"

"Yeah, yeah… State your business and leave. I was kind of in the middle of something."

Favian urged the Instructor to quickly conclude the matter he came here for.

"Rude as ever I see. Well whatever, you see, I'm here to choose cultivation techniques for these little fellas over here. I need access to the third floor."

The Instructor pointed to Shin and the twins as he explained his reason for being in the Athenaeum.

"Oh right, yesterday was the Day of Spirits… Hi there, little ones!"

Noticing the trio, Favian smiled and started conversing with them.

"Is this savage giving you any trouble? I doubt this battle maniac could properly serve as a suitable Instructor."

Casually insulting the Instructor, Favian asked the orphans if they had been distressed by him. Shin was actually tempted to nod his head, but he knew that would only cause the Instructor to give him a bump to his head and resisted the urge.

"Hey! I'm not here to let you call me names in front of my students! Give me the pass to the third floor!"

"Hmph, can't stand a little discussion huh? Well whatever, here!"

Annoyed by the Instructor, the bespectacled man passed over a green-coloured card that had the Frie Clan mark imprinted on it.

"Thanks. Also don't stay here every night for your research! Go home once in a while."

"Shut up, Lou!"

Leaving the counter, the Instructor brought the trio towards a large pavilion nearby.

"Instructor, who is that?"

The curious Emma gave the Instructor a quizzical look. It was rare to see the Instructor close to anyone other than the First Elder or the Headmistress.

"Oh, that bookworm? He is one of the librarians of the Athenaeum. Although he considers himself as more of a researcher. You will encounter many people like him in here. The scholarly type."

"What is your relationship with him. You two seem close..."

"Well, we were once fellow students to the same Instructor. Like you guys! But it is strange. Even though we were taught by the same teacher, the paths we took were drastically different..."

Reminiscing about his past, the Instructor revealed some facts about his life.

"But that's not important now, what's vital is that we get you that cultivation technique. Come, we're going up."

The instructor brought them to a circular platform much to the bewilderment of the trio. If they were going up, why were they not heading towards the stairs? Once everyone was on the platform, the Instructor slotted the green-coloured card into one of the pillars that were rising up from the platform. After a few seconds, the floor below the orphans began to rise.

"Wha…!"

"Huh?"

"WHAT?!"

Feeling that they were leaving the ground, Shin and the twins were shocked into speechlessness.

"Hahaha! The look on your faces is gold! I never get tired of this!"

Smirking as if he had successfully pulled off a prank, the Instructor explained the situation to the children.

"We are on something called an elevator. It brings us to the floor that we are authorised to access. In this case, the third floor. That's where all the cultivation manuals are. Don't worry, as long as you stay on the platform, you won't fall. It's perfectly safe!"

"There is such a thing?"

"Woah… Amazing!"

"We don't have to use the stairs?"

The children were amazed by the Athenaeum once more. It was indeed as if they had stepped into a foreign land. Their amazement did not last long, however, as they reached their destination in a few moments.

"We're here!"

The instructor removed the key from the slot and walked out the open doors of the third floor. Gesturing the kids to follow, he held the door open. Nervously, Shin and the twins walked briskly out of the elevator. They were fearful of falling and therefore, couldn't wait to leave the strange pavilion behind.

"Welcome to the third floor of the Athenaeum!"

The Instructor held his hands wide opened as he introduced the venue. The third floor resembled an extensive library. There were multiple bookshelves and an uncountable number of books. Members of the Frie Clan dressed in scholarly robes were also researching or studying on the numerous tables scattered around.

"Stay close and don't bother anyone. Even I wouldn't want to get into the bad books of some of the individuals here."

Giving the kids a light warning, the Instructor brought them to the far end of the level. Here, there was a sign in red that said 'RESTRICTED.' The bookshelves in this area all had chains on them, and no average person could hope to steal a single book.

"Well, this is the cultivation manuals section. Sit at this table and wait for me. I'll be back in a moment..."

The Instructor left the children at a nearby table and entered the restricted zone.

Over a million years ago, the first human contracted with the first Spirit. Ever since then, Spirit use has become commonplace. Humans used Spirits to carry items and start fires. Eventually, even start wars. Thousands upon thousands of years past and one day, one human did the impossible. He transcended his mortality and ascended to the realm above.  

In the present day, the Frie Clan was once a great clan of the Himmel empire. However, a devastating battle ten years ago crippled the clan and their numbers dwindled. To make up for their loss, the upper echelons decided to adopt young orphans and nurture them to become a future pillar of the weakened clan. Shin was one of those orphans. 

Although picked up by the Frie Clan, not all is smooth sailing for Shin and the other orphans...
------------------------------------------------
Tags: Action, Comedy, Romance, Fantasy, Drama, Male Lead, Tragedy.

For some reason, QI doesn't allow you guys to see my tags so here they are. Also, there is no Harem in this novel for those of you who are curious.

Chapters are released daily at UTC+8 0100 unless stated otherwise

Support me at: https://www.patreon.com/Linodo
For additional content, visit me at: https://linodofictions.com/

I am sitting the game system, in discord...  I just need suggestions cuz my brain is closed... PLZ HELP!  
I finished writing the basics of the EXP system, and now stuck in the elemental system (almost done, but need some creative ideas!) 

After I finish writing the new game system, I will proceed with the re-write... so the more you help me, the faster I can start writing!  (Discord Link both in comments and in writer's note!)

Voidne is the unluckiest person in the world.  Just like his mother, he needs to work 5 times harder than normal people, just to achieve the same thing.

But one day the unlucky Voidne crossed through a wormhole by a mistake, that sent him into a parallel universe to occupy the body of the Voidne from that universe.

The new parallel universe was more advanced, and a new game was about to get released.  It was a VRMMORPG, that is going to be super popular.  Even companies were going to fight over occupying this game.

Voidne who was the unluckiset person in the world, is now the luckiest person in the world...  

See how Voidne's life will change!

I am a 13 year old who loves reading .I thought that I cold give a try in writing and here I am .Never expected anyone to read my book and Thank you to all who read it.I live in India so we have English as our first language so there won't be many grammatical mistakes.We have compulsory creative writing in English so all of us are used to writing lame stories.I know currently nothing much is happening in the story but I can assure that by the weekend the story will get interesting.

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