I peer through the aeroplane window—an expansive campus that could be easily mistaken as an entire country unfolding beneath.
This remarkable sight seamlessly blends with the twilight sky and ominous black clouds, creating an otherworldly panorama.
The collective gasps of the other students speak volumes about their awe and surprise. I, however, am not surprised.
The school's colossal size is no revelation; it is common knowledge.
I sit back in my seat, unmoved by the gasps around me. The colossal campus sprawls beneath, a kingdom of academia that stretches as far as the eye can see. As the plane descends, the details of the campus become clearer. Rows upon rows of buildings, each one a maze of classrooms, libraries, and laboratories, dot the landscape.
The architecture is a blend of modern and traditional, with sleek glass structures standing alongside ancient brick buildings.
The stewardess announces our arrival, urging everyone to fasten their seat belts. I comply, my gaze still fixed on the approaching spectacle. It is not that I am unimpressed; it is just expected.
The other students chatter excitedly, speculating about what awaits them.
"Imagine the cultural treasures this place must hold."
"I heard the local cuisine is a culinary masterpiece. I can't wait to dive into that!"
"I hope the accommodations are comfortable. A good night's sleep can make or break the first impression of a place."
I remain silent; my thoughts are my only companions.
The moment the plane's wheels make contact with the runway, the subdued murmurs of my fellow students are swiftly drowned out by a deafening symphony of thunderous footsteps.
I follow the stream of enthusiastic students down onto the school's airport, where we are greeted like a maid greeting their master.
The grandeur of the welcome did not escape my notice—a choreographed display to dazzle the newcomers.
"Whoaaaa! This is soooo cooool!
"I know, right? I can't believe we got in!"
"We're the best of the best! It's no surprise we got in."
Ignoring the unnecessarily enthusiastic dialogue, I wait until the crowd disperses.
The school's representatives guide us towards the imposing entrance, adorned with intricate symbols hinting at the magical essence of The Twilight Institute.
Once we reach the entrance hall, a tall, powerful-looking man walks up the stage and tests the microphone.
"Cough cough... Ahem! Welcome students to the wonderful, amazing... Twilight Institute!"
The hall transforms into a realm of auditory chaos, as if a legion of banshees decided to throw a party in my eardrums.
And the quality of these screams. They reverberate through the hall with the finesse of opera singers hitting those high notes.
It is like the entire cast of a horror movie suddenly realised they left the oven on and decided to vocalise their collective distress.
"Your journey here marks the beginning of an extraordinary chapter in your lives. But be warned, the Twilight Institute is no ordinary magic school. Here, magic doesn't merely occupy a curriculum; it pulses through the very essence of our existence."
As he speaks, the symbols adorning the walls begin to shimmer, emitting a soft glow that captivates the audience.
"The magic within these walls is not bound by tradition; it's a force that intertwines with the fabric of our reality. You are not here merely to study spells and incantations. You are here to wield the very essence of magic itself."
YOU ARE READING
The Twilight Institute
FantasyI board this metal contraption dubbed an aeroplane, hurtling through the sky, for education's farce-how foolish. Schools, like puppets, exploit minds, shaping them into acquiescent tools. Power lies not in knowledge, but in breaking free from the ch...
