The Dormitory Laundry Room reeked with unwashed dress and stinky socks.

  Elias stood in the center of the tiled room, breathing in the thick, humid air. It was a cloying scent—chemical flowers that had never seen the sun, mixed with the sharp tang of heated metal.

  "Synthetic Rose," Elias identified, wrinkling his nose. "I hate this smell…a real rose always smells better when making out with women!”

  Ryulus stared at this man with disbelief of a ghost at their current situation he dares to dream of having sex with another women!

  However, Elias mind was preoccupied with his own thoughts.

  In the Third Era, laundry was handled by Water Sprites. They were unionized, chatty, and demanded payment in sea glass, but they left linens smelling of fresh rain.

  ‘I miss those bubbly water sprites…’

  This room hummed with a soulless, mana-draining whine that made his teeth ache.

  Next to him, Rylus was wringing water out of his cloak. The Knight looked pale. His eyes were wide and unfocused, staring at the brass chute they had just been ejected from.

  "I will never fit in a pipe again," Rylus whispered to the floor. "It is against the laws of gods and men. My pauldrons were not designed for aerodynamics."

  "You traveled efficiently," Elias said, patting him on the shoulder. "Velocity is a virtue."

  He looked around the room. Rows of boxy machines churned and spun, washing the identical blue robes of the student body.

  But against the far wall, glowing with a soft, inviting light, was something else.

  A glass cabinet. Tall, rectangular, and humming with a low-grade enchantment.

  Device:Function:

  Alchemical Dispensary (Snack Variant) Status:

  Elias walked over. Inside the glass, sitting on metal coils, were brightly colored packages.

  Elias leaned closer. He inspected a .

  "[Analyze]."

  Item:Ingredients:Nutritional Value:Morale Bonus:

  "Fascinating," Elias murmured. "They have industrialized morale. They are feeding the students courage in bar form."

  He felt a rumble in his stomach. He hadn't eaten since the turnip stew. And the "Black Dust" tea had only made him jittery.

  "I require a Hero Bar," Elias decided.

  He reached into his pocket. He found a silver coin—one of the few Rylus had left.

  He inserted the coin into the slot.

  CLINK.

  He pressed the button labeled E-4

  The metal coil turned. Slowly. Painfully slowly. The bar inched forward. It teetered on the edge of the shelf.

  Then, it stopped.

  The coil groaned and halted. The bar hung there, suspended by friction and spite.

  Elias stared at it.

  "It has stolen my currency," Elias said. His voice was very quiet.

  "Sir?" Rylus asked, looking up from his wet cloak. "What is it?"

  "Theft," Elias hissed. "Mechanical banditry."

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  He tapped the glass. "Release the cargo."

  The machine did not respond. It hummed smugly.

  Elias felt the familiar twitch in his fingers. The urge to correct the error. He didn't want to destroy the machine.

  He just wanted to... nudge it.

  Elias thought.

  He placed a finger against the glass. He focused on the concept of .

  "[Unjam]," he commanded.

  He intended to move the bar one inch.

  But he forgot to specify bar. Or

  mechanism.

  The System interpreted his command as a directive to Remove All Obstructions

  The internal motors of the vending machine didn't just turn. They spun up.

  WHIRRRRRRR.

  The hum became a whine. The whine became a scream. The coils spinning the snacks accelerated to 5,000 RPM.

  "Sir?" Rylus stood up. "The machine is vibrating."

  "It is... enthusiastic," Elias said, taking a step back.

  THWIP.

  A bag of Mana-Crisps fired through the delivery slot at the speed of a crossbow bolt. It flew past Elias’s ear and slammed into the opposite wall, embedding itself in the plaster with a dull .

  THWIP-THWIP-THWIP.

  The machine opened fire.

  It was a gatling gun of snacks. Hero Bars launched like shrapnel. Potion-Pops exploded against the dryers like grenades, spraying fizzy purple liquid everywhere. Bags of nuts turned into buckshot.

  CRUNCH. SMASH. BOOM.

  "TAKE COVER!" Rylus roared. He grabbed a laundry basket and dove in front of Elias, using it as a shield.

  A can of soda dented the basket.

  A chocolate bar ricocheted off Rylus’s helmet.

  Elias stood behind the Knight, watching the bombardment.

  "The trajectory is impressive," Elias noted. "Though the delivery method lacks finesse."

  The machine finally ran out of ammo. The coils spun down with a dying wheeze. Smoke poured from the coin slot.

  The laundry room was a war zone. The floor was covered in chips, soda, and wrappers.

  The door opened.

  A student walked in. He was a Third-Year, wearing flannel pajamas and holding a hamper of dirty socks. He looked tired.

  He froze.

  He looked at the smoking vending machine. He looked at the wall, which was dripping with purple soda. He looked at Rylus, who was crouching behind a dented laundry basket.

  And he looked at Elias.

  Elias straightened his robes. He brushed a crumb of off his shoulder.

  "Did you..." the student whispered, staring at the destruction. "Did you rob the machine?"

  Elias looked at the pile of snacks at his feet. He picked up a Hero Bar. It was slightly squashed, but intact.

  "It surrendered its cargo," Elias said calmly. He held the bar out. "Would you like a crisp?"

  The student stared at him. He looked at Elias’s pale skin, the glowing eyes, the drone hovering ominously overhead.

  "You're a Rogue Alchemist," the student whispered, his eyes wide. "Selling black market snacks."

  Elias blinked. "I am a Librarian."

  "Right. Sure." The student nodded slowly, backing away. He reached out, snatched a bag of chips from the floor, and clutched it to his chest. "I saw nothing. I was never here."

  The student turned and ran.

  "He forgot his socks," Elias noted.

  "We need to leave," Rylus said, standing up and shaking glass off his cape. "Before he comes back with the dorm master."

  Elias nodded. He pocketed the Hero Bar.

  As they turned to the exit, Elias noticed something sitting on top of a dryer. A book. The student must have left it.

  Elias picked it up.

  Title:Tyrants of the Dark Age: A History.

  Elias felt a cold prickle on his neck. He opened the book.

  He flipped past the chapters on the War of Ash. He found the section on the End of the Third Era

  There was an illustration.

  It depicted a dark, cavernous library. In the center stood a monster—a hunched shadow with glowing red eyes and long, clawed fingers. The monster was shoving scrolls into its mouth, devouring them.

  The caption read: THE HOARDER.He consumed the world's knowledge to starve the people. He locked the doors to keep the light out.

  Elias stared at the drawing.

  He traced the ink. The monster looked nothing like him. But the library... the library was perfect. They had drawn the arches correctly.

  "I didn't eat them," Elias whispered.

  His hand trembled.

  "I didn't starve anyone. I saved them. I put the world on a shelf so it wouldn't break. I locked the door because the sky was burning."

  He felt a hot, stinging pressure behind his eyes.

  (Why did they hate him? He had given up everything. He had given up his life, his time, his tea. And they made him a boogeyman.)

  A hand gently took the book from his grip.

  Rylus closed the cover. He placed the book face down on the dryer.

  "The artist lacks perspective, Sir," Rylus said softly. "He never saw you hold a door open for a donkey."

  Elias looked at the Knight. He took a shaky breath.

  "He also drew my nose too big," Elias muttered.

  "Yes," Rylus agreed. "Terrible likeness."

  Elias straightened. He pushed the hurt down, deep into the box where he kept his grief.

  "We need disguises," Elias said. "We cannot walk through the halls looking like... this."

  He pointed to a pile of clean laundry on a table. "Robes."

  They grabbed the first robes they could find.

  They were bright yellow.

  Item:Size:

  Elias pulled the robe on. It was tight in the shoulders. The hem stopped at his shins, revealing his dusty boots. It was the color of a radioactive lemon.

  He put his hood up. Unit 74 beeped and flew underneath the fabric, hiding on top of Elias’s head like a mechanical hat.

  Elias looked at Rylus, who was struggling to fit his armor under the yellow fabric. The Knight looked like a lumpy canary.

  "I look like a banana," Elias said flatly.

  Rylus adjusted his hood. He looked pained.

  "A very... wise banana, Sir."

  "Come," Elias sighed. "Let us find the Administration Wing. And try not to rustle."

  They stepped out into the hallway, leaving the ruined vending machine behind them.

  Status UpdateMana Consumed:Current Mood:Inventory:Reputation:Disguise: