(A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don't hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

Power stones people, Gimme it.

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More murmurs rose—some anxious, some excited. Orion simply folded his arms. None of this surprised him.

Rhaena continued, "Your instructors will also monitor your emotional development, discipline records, sparring performance, research contributions—yes, even your conduct in the dormitories. Everything matters."

Her cheerful tone contrasted heavily with the seriousness of her words.

"And before any of you ask—no, you cannot bribe your instructors."

A boy somewhere in the back groaned loudly. The hall burst into laughter.

Rhaena raised a hand again to silence the hall.

"We don't have all day, let's move on."

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Rhaena let her last sentence hang in the air, scanning the sea of faces before her. Once the murmurs softened, she brightened again, clasping her hands with the same sunny enthusiasm.

"Now," she said, pacing lightly across the stage, "let's talk departments."

A focused stillness settled. Even the easily-distracted ones leaned forward.

"If you all recall the Head Administrator's words earlier," Rhaena began, "she mentioned that this academy has produced thousands of our greatest fighters, strategists, researchers, innovators—and everything in between. That should tell you something."

She tapped her temple.

"Our curriculum is broad. Very broad. As I'm sure many of you have already realized—or have begun realizing—we each have areas where we excel. Some of you are brilliant at practical combat. Some of you shine in analytical work. Some of you…" she looked pointedly at one corner, "…are good at talking. A lot."

Seris, without hesitation, pointed at Caelum. Caelum looked deeply offended.

Rhaena continued smoothly, "All-round ability is good, but specialization? Specialization is better. And for that reason, we divide talents."

She paused for emphasis.

"In this academy, we have two major departments. Just two."

A wave of whispers rolled through the hall.

"Yes, yes, I know," Rhaena said, smiling, "despite how broad specialization can be, there's only so much we can teach in four years. After your time here, there are countless advanced academies and institutions to broaden your horizons. But first, the foundation."

She raised two fingers.

"You must pick one department. Only one. Regardless of how impressive you think you are, only one is required—and only one will help you grow properly here."

The hall quieted completely.

"The two departments," she announced, "are the Scholar's Department and the Combat Department. Students here commonly refer to them as SD or CD."

Rhaena grinned. "Yes. Strange naming system. Tradition is stubborn."

Seris mouthed the abbreviations as if testing them.

"Now," Rhaena continued, "each department will focus on its respective strengths and generalizations. We're not expecting you to choose today. That would be madness. And poor judgment."

Her smile softened.

"For the wise ones among you"—she gave a knowing glance towards some—"you may have already realized just how important this choice is. It shapes your future—your training, your opportunities, your role in the Chronos family."

"Peer pressure," she added, "and overestimation, are the fastest routes to ruining one's path. So choose based on who you are, not who you think others want you to be."

Many students lowered their gazes, thoughtful.

"And of course," Rhaena continued warmly, "those of you with parents or siblings who have passed through this academy probably came prepared with your decision. For everyone else, this is brand-new information. So! You will have one full week of classes before you must decide."

"During that week, counselors will be available daily. Use them. Ask questions. Think things through. This is your life we're talking about."

A brief, approving murmur spread around the room.

"Now," Rhaena said, lifting her chin slightly, "for the departments themselves."

She began with a slow, purposeful step.

"CD—the Combat Department—will focus primarily on combat."

Confusion flickered across a few faces.

"Yes, you heard correctly. Combat Department. Combat. Because despite whatever peaceful illusions we cling to," she said with unexpected firmness, "conflict will always arise. Threats will always exist. And this academy is the starting point for the greatest protectors of the Chronos—and of humanity."

Her voice rang with conviction, almost reminiscent of Jessica's tone moments prior.

"These students will train their bodies, their magic, their instincts. They will be our shields and blades."

Then her tone shifted again, lighter.

"SD—the Scholars Department—focuses on the intellectuals."

She continued, "The mind is just as vital as any sword. Nexcrafts, arcane engineering, medicines, potions, dimensional science, runic advancements—every breakthrough began with the mind of a researcher. If innovation is your strength, this is where you belong."

Orion caught Selene nodding slightly. It suited her.

Rhaena planted her hands on her hips. "The counselors will go into detail during next week's sessions, but the most important thing I can tell you now is simple: listen to your heart."

She said it without theatrics, but with a sincerity that filled the hall.

"Now!" she continued, shifting smoothly again, "I mentioned earlier that there are fourteen core courses taught in this academy."

The students collectively straightened.

"I'm sure many of you assumed that since we have two departments, you'd each take seven courses."

Light chuckles floated.

Rhaena's smile turned mischievous—too mischievous.

"Well," she said slowly, "I'm here to burst that little bubble of yours."

A few students tensed.

"You will all," she announced, "be taking ten courses."

Silence.

Then—

The hall exploded.

Shouts, complaints, disbelief, horror—even some laughter—rose all at once.

Rhaena basked in the chaos like sunlight.

"Yes, ten courses!" she repeated cheerfully over the noise. "Specialization or not, we're going to wring you dry!"

Jessica coughed lightly. "She means we will challenge you rigorously."

"I said what I said," Rhaena replied without shame.

The laughter and complaints gradually faded as Rhaena raised both hands.

"Don't panic—yet. You'll have your schedules. You're not taking all ten courses every single day. And some courses alternate weekly. You'll survive. Probably."

A nervous wave spread.

"Now!" she said brightly once more. "We still have a few more things to cover before class allocation begins, so don't run away just yet. Nobody's escaping ten courses."

The hall groaned collectively.

Rhaena's smile only widened.

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