The supervisor's voice grew quiet, almost contemplative. His words no longer carried the cold certainty of instruction, but rather the weight of something larger—something unknowable.
"There are many theories about the true nature of the Veil."
He glanced around, as if making sure the walls themselves weren't listening.
"Some believe it is simply a force of nature—a law of reality we have yet to fully understand. A storm that marks its victims at random, neither merciful nor cruel, just indifferent."
A pause.
Then, his next words came slower.
"Others… believe the Veil is alive."
A ripple of unease passed through the students. Even the more skeptical ones shifted in their seats.
Hope remained still.
This was the real lesson.
"Not just alive, but conscious. And not just conscious, but… divine."
A few students scoffed under their breath. Others paled.
"A God."
The room was silent.
The supervisor's expression remained unreadable.
"Not a deity, not a mythological figure crafted from human belief. A true God—one that existed long before our understanding of gods even began. A being so vast, so old, that we cannot possibly comprehend its will."
He exhaled, voice turning grim.
"And yet, if it is a God… it is corrupted. Or perhaps, it was always this way."
His gaze swept across the room, lingering on those whose faces betrayed doubt.
Then, he asked the question that had haunted scholars for decades:
"Why does it form a new body for those it takes?"
Silence.
"Some claim it is because the human body is weak—too fragile to survive in the Ashlands."
Another pause.
"Others say it is because the human body is filthy. Impure. A vessel unworthy of stepping into its domain."
He let the words settle.
"But the truth?"
He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.
"We don't know."
The class was quiet.
"We may never know."
With that, he straightened, adjusting his coat.
"Lesson over."
And without another word, he turned and left.
The moment the supervisor was gone, murmurs filled the classroom. Some students whispered theories to each other. Others sat in deep thought, their faces clouded with unease.
Hope, however, said nothing.
He simply sat, replaying the lesson in his mind.
Survival First
He wasn't a scholar.
He wasn't someone who needed to understand the grand mysteries of the universe.
He just needed to survive.
Because in the end, that was all that mattered.
Still, if he died, he wanted to at least know that he had tried.
That he had fought.
That he hadn't just let the Veil take him without resistance.
With that thought, he rose to his feet.
And then—
His stomach rumbled.
Hope smirked.
Well, first things first…
If he was going to process all that information, he needed food.
The cafeteria was bustling, students lining up for their meals. Some chatted excitedly about the lesson. Others ate in silence, their thoughts elsewhere.
Hope ignored them all.
He loaded his tray without hesitation, grabbing dish after dish. He wasn't shy about eating well—not when he had the chance.
The first bite was heavenly.
For all the horrors of the world, for all the things beyond his control, good food was one of the few things that still made life enjoyable.
And so he ate.
And ate.
And ate.
Until he was full.
Until the weight of the lesson felt easier to carry.
Sleep – Preparing for Tomorrow
After finishing his meal, Hope stretched, feeling the satisfaction of a full stomach.
Then, without another word, he made his way back to his room.
Tomorrow would be another day.
Another battle.
But for now…
He would rest.