Reality overload

The walk back from the medical wing felt longer than it should have. Maybe because my body still hummed with leftover magic, like someone had plugged me into a wall socket and forgotten to unplug me. Riley kept glancing at me like she expected me to suddenly faceplant. Reia walked on my other side, clutching her takeout box like it contained state secrets.

We cut across the courtyard, the afternoon sun warm on the stone paths. Students passed by in clusters, laughing, talking, not even noticing us. It should have felt normal. It didn’t.

Riley nudged Reia. ”So. Your theory. Spill it.”

Reia blinked. ”Which one.”

”The one about the government.” Riley waved her free hand. ”The transformation records. You were talking about it earlier.”

Reia’s cheeks pinked. ”Oh. That one.”

I looked at her. ”You said you had a hypothesis.”

She nodded, eyes forward. ”I think they are preparing a classification system. For transformed individuals. Something standardized. Something they can use for policy decisions.”

Riley groaned. ”So like a magical DMV.”

Reia nodded her head. ”like... a a drivers license, But with power levels.”

I winced. ”That sounds cool.”

”It is practical,” Reia said softly. ”But also a little invasive. They want to know what people can do. And how dangerous they might be.”

Riley scoffed. ”Zora is dangerous because she can freeze a soda can. Wow. Terrifying.”

I elbowed her. ”I can do more than that.”

”Yeah,” Riley said. ”You can also panic really well.”

I tried not to smile.

Reia hugged her takeout box tighter. ”I do not think they mean you specifically. Just... people like us.”

People like us.

The words stuck to my ribs.

We reached the dorm building. The lobby was quiet, the air cool. Alexa wasn’t at the desk this time. Probably for the best. I didn’t have the energy to deal with her knowing looks.

We climbed the stairs, our footsteps echoing. My heart thumped harder the closer we got to our floor. The dorm mother. The mysterious, thorough dorm mother. I still didn’t know what that meant.

Riley stopped at our door and looked at both of us. ”Okay. We eat. We chill. We pretend we are not about to be inspected by a woman who probably has laser vision.”

Reia’s eyes widened. ”She has laser vision.”

”No,” Riley said. ”Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.”

I pushed the door open and the familiar cool air of our room washed over me. The lights were still off, the curtains half‑drawn, the space quiet in that way only a brand‑new dorm can be. Riley kicked the door shut behind us and immediately dropped her takeout on the desk like she’d been carrying a boulder.

”Okay,” she said. ”Food before bureaucracy.”

Reia set her box down carefully on the table, smoothing the seat first like she was preparing a ceremonial offering. I sat cross‑legged on my chair and opened my container. Steam drifted up, warm and comforting. My stomach growled loud enough that Riley snorted.

”See,” she said. ”Medical clearance passed. Appetite, aggressively present.”

”Yea but what about the sticker. Were you not good Zora? Reia’s question making me pause

I rolled my eyes but took a bite anyway. The food wasn’t amazing, but right now it tasted like the best thing I’d ever eaten. Maybe because the morning had been a blur of nerves and paperwork and magic tests. Maybe because I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now.

Reia ate slowly, tiny bites, posture perfect. But her eyes kept flicking to the door.

”You’re nervous,” I said.

She froze mid‑chew. ”I am not.”

Riley leaned over, whispering loudly, ”She is absolutely nervous.”

Reia swallowed. ”I simply want to make a good impression. The dorm mother oversees our living conditions. She has authority.”

Riley grinned. ”Reia. You could walk in, trip, spill soup on her shoes, and she’d still think you’re a polite little angel.”

Reia’s ears turned pink. ”That is not true.”

”It is extremely true,” Riley said.

I laughed, the tension in my chest loosening a little. The room felt warmer with the three of us in it, eating, talking, existing in the same space without the pressure of strangers poking at our magic.

For a moment, it felt normal.

Then my fork slipped out of my hand.

Not because I dropped it.

Because it froze to my fingers.

A thin layer of frost shimmered across the metal, creeping toward my knuckles. I hissed and shook my hand until it clattered onto the blanket.

Riley blinked. ”Zora. Babe. Why are you refrigerating your silverware.”

”I’m not doing it on purpose,” I said, rubbing my fingers. ”It just... happened.”

Reia leaned forward, studying the frost like it was a rare artifact. ”Your magic is so cool, but inconvenient at times.”

Riley nodded. ”Yeah. Worst case, we get you plastic forks.”

I groaned. ”Please don’t make me the plastic‑fork...uuh...girl.”

”You won’t be,” Riley said.noticing my hesitation. ”Unless you freeze the metal ones again. Then absolutely yes.”

Reia hid a smile behind her hand.

We kept eating, slower now, the room filled with the soft sounds of takeout containers and the occasional comment about the food. My fingers tingled, but the frost didn’t return.

For a few minutes, everything was calm.

Then a firm knock echoed through the room.

The dorm mother had arrived.

Riley opened the door.

And the girl standing there was... definitely not what any of us expected.

She looked our age. Maybe a year or two older at most.

Bright amber eyes. A fluffy fox tail swishing behind her like it had a mind of its own. Two russet ears twitching on top of her head, betraying every emotion she tried to hide.

She wore a campus hoodie and jeans, not some official uniform.

Her badge read: Halden — Dorm Mother.

She gave us a sheepish smile. ”Hi. Um. I’m Halden. Your dorm mother. Kind of. Sort of. They’re still figuring out the title.”

Riley blinked. ”You’re... a student.”

Halden nodded quickly. ”Yep. Senior girl. Or I was. Before I woke up with ears and a tail and a sudden craving for grilled fish.”

Her tail flicked happily like it agreed.

Reia stared. ”You are a kitsune.”

Halden’s shoulders slumped with relief. ”Thank you. Finally someone says it out loud. I thought I was losing my mind.”

She stepped inside. 

”I got transformed two days ago,” she said. ”Just like half the campus. But I played DLO too, so I recognized the avatar immediately. Kitsune fox spirit. High agility, illusion magic, mild chaotic tendencies.”

Riley snorted. ”Mild.”

Halden grinned. ”Okay, moderate.”

Her ears perked as she looked around the room, taking everything in with surprising focus. Alert, like she was cataloging the space the way a fox might catalog a forest.

”You three doing okay?” she asked. ”First day’s rough. Especially with the medical wing poking everyone like lab rats.”

Reia nodded politely. ”We are managing.”

Halden’s gaze drifted to the frosted fork on my blanket.

”Oh,” she said softly. ”Ice affinity. Pretty strong too.”

My face frosted. ”It was an accident.”

”Most early magic is,” Halden said. ”Trust me. I sneezed yesterday and made three copies of myself. One of them managed to steal my lunch.”

Riley choked on air. ”You can clone yourself.”

”Apparently,” Halden said. ”Still figuring out how to un‑clone myself.”

Her tail swished again, betraying her embarrassment.

She looked at each of us, her expression warm but honest.

”I’m not here because I’m the most experienced,” she said. ”I’m here because I’m the calmest person the staff could find who didn’t burst into flames or sprout wings.”

Riley whispered, ”I love her.”

Halden pretended not to hear it, but her ears twitched betraying her.

”I’m supposed to go over floor rules, safety stuff, and what to expect as transformed students,” she said. ”But before that... breathe. You’re safe here. And you’re not alone.”

Her voice was steady.

Her tail was not.

But somehow, that made her even more reassuring.

Halden clapped her hands once, like she was about to start a club meeting instead of a floor orientation.

”Alright,” she said. ”Guidelines first. Then I’ll check your room. Don’t panic. I’m not here to judge your sock organization.”

Riley whispered, ”Good, because mine is a war crime.”

Halden’s ears twitched like she was trying not to laugh.

She lifted her tablet, squinting at it like she’d only skimmed the document once.

”Okay, so. Guideline number one,” she said. ”If your magic starts doing something weird, tell someone. Preferably me. Or a RA. Or literally anyone who looks like they won’t scream.”

Riley pointed at me. ”Zora froze a fork.”

Halden nodded. ”That counts as weird but harmless. If you freeze a wall, tell me.”

I groaned. ”I’m not going to freeze a wall.”

”You say that now,” Halden said. ”But I said I wasn’t going to accidentally summon a foxfire orb in the shower, and yet here we are.”

Her tail flicked like it remembered.

”Guideline two,” she continued. ”No  spellcasting in the hallways. The carpet is new. The carpet is expensive. The carpet is apparently flammable.”

Riley raised a hand. ”Why would they put flammable carpet in a dorm full of magic students.”

Halden winked. ”Budget cuts.”

Reia looked horrified.

”Guideline three,” Halden said. ”If you feel dizzy, overheated, freezing, floaty, sparkly, or like you’re about to sneeze magic—sit down. Magic sneezes are real. They are dangerous. They are embarrassing.”

Riley grinned. ”You sneezed clones.”

Halden covered her face. ”We don’t talk about that.”

Her tail, was swishing wildly.

”And guideline four,” she said. ”You’re not alone. Everyone on this floor is transformed apparently. Everyone is confused. Everyone is pretending they’re fine. So if you need help, ask.”

Halden tucked her tablet under her arm. ”Okay. Room check. Not for cleanliness. Just safety.”

She stepped forward, tail swishing, ears perked like she was scanning for danger.

First stop, Riley’s desk.

She picked up a half‑empty energy drink. ”This is an ice hazard.”

Riley blinked. ”It’s a drink.”

”Exactly,” Halden said. ”She’s ice ‑aligned. Is she gets jittery, she ices this explodes. Ever seen a can of soda explode in the freezer Boom. Ice shards everywhere.”

Riley immediately threw it in the trash. As I tried to get jittery.

Next stop, Reia’s bed.

Halden stared at the perfectly folded blanket, the symmetrical pillows, the takeout box aligned with mathematical precision.

”Reia,” she said softly. ”Are you okay.”

Reia nodded. ”Yes?”

”You sure.”

”Yes....”

Halden leaned closer. ”Blink twice if you’re repressing everything.”

Reia blinked twice.

Halden patted her shoulder. ”We’ll work on that.”

Then she turned to my bed.

Her eyes landed on the frosted fork.

She crouched down, inspecting it like a scientist.

”Okay,” she said. ”This is actually good. Controlled frost. No spreading. No cracking. No accidental ice spikes.”

I frosted. ”So... what...I’m not dangerous?”

Halden looked up at me, ears tilting gently.

”You’re not dangerous,” she said. ”You’re just new.”

I giggled... yes giggled.

She stood, brushing off her knees, giving me a wink. ”Alright. Room looks safe. No cursed objects. No unstable artifacts. No portals. You’d be surprised how many freshmen accidentally open portals.”

Riley raised a brow. ”How many.”

”More than zero,” Halden said.

Her tail flicked again.

She stepped back, hands on her hips, satisfied.

”You three are doing great,” she said. ”Really. First day is the hardest.”

Halden settled into Riley’s desk chair backward, arms folded over the backrest, tail curling around one leg like it was trying to behave. It wasn’t.

”Okay,” she said. ”I want to hear about your transformations. Helps me know what you’re dealing with. Also helps me feel less like the only one whose life exploded this week.”

Her ears perked. Her tail swished. She was trying to look composed. She was not composed.

Then she turned to Reia.

”Alright, she said pointing at reia. You first.”

Reia sat straighter. ”I woke up with magic. And... instincts. And the ability to raise corpses.”

Halden blinked. ”Casual.”

Reia nodded. ”I am very responsible with it.”

Riley whispered, ”She threw a corpse through a carriage window.”

Reia hissed, ”I apologized.”

Halden held up both hands. ”Hey, no judgment. I sneezed and made a clone yesterday. We all have our struggles.”

Then she turned to Riley.

”And you.”

Riley grinned, sharp teeth flashing. ”Beastkin wolf.”

Halden’s ears shot straight up. ”Oh... That’s... that’s a lot of muscle.”

Riley flexed. ”I know.”

Halden’s tail wagged once before she forced it still. ”Okay. Very cool. Very intimidating. Please don’t break the furniture.”

Riley winked. ”No promises.”

Then Halden launched, and looked at me again.

”And you said your name is Zora. What about your transformation.” She looked at me like she knew something. But maybe that was just me being nervous.

My heart lurched.

I couldn’t say oh sorry excuse me but I used to be a boy and now I’m a not boy.

So I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

”I was... uh... really into track.”

Halden blinked. ”Track?”

”Yes,” I said too quickly. ”Running. Fast. Very fast. That was my whole personality.”

Riley stared at me like she wanted to scream YOU ARE THE WORST LIAR ALIVE.

Reia stared like she was trying to calculate the probability of that being true.

Halden just nodded thoughtfully. ”Cool. Speed types usually get hit hard by magical rewrites. Or so I’m told, makes sense.”

I exhaled in relief.

Then Halden’s ears twitched.

Her nose scrunched.

Her tail puffed like a startled cat.

”Oh no,” she whispered.

She sneezed. ”AAH -AHCHOOO!”

A poof of golden foxfire puffed out of her like glittery smoke.

And suddenly...

There were two Haldens.

One standing behind the chair, and one standing behind her, blinking like she’d just been born.

Riley slapped both hands over her mouth.

Reia gasped.

The clone Halden looked around, excitedly. ”Hi.”

The real Halden groaned. ”Not again.”

Riley pointed. ”You...you sneezed a person.”

”I know,” Halden said, rubbing her face. ”It’s a kitsune thing. Early magic instability, or so I’m told. They told me it would stop after a week.”

The clone poked her own tail. ”I’m soft.”

”Please don’t touch things,” Halden begged her clone. ”Last time you stole my salmon.”

The clone looked offended. ”It was a shared craving.”

Halden turned back to us, cheeks pink, ears flat with embarrassment.

”Anyway,” she said, trying to pretend this was normal. ”As I was saying... transformations can be unpredictable.”

Riley snorted. ”No kidding.”

Halden sighed. ”I promise I’m usually more put‑together than this.”

Her clone shook her head. ”She’s not.”

”Stop helping,” Halden hissed.

But somehow, the chaos made her even more comforting. She wasn’t perfect.

She was just like us, and trying her best.

The clone Halden blinked a few times, then wandered over to Riley’s bed and sat down like she owned the place. Her tail curled neatly around her legs. Her ears perked with smug confidence.

Real Halden groaned. ”Please don’t—”

Clone Halden raised a finger. ”I have wisdom.”

Riley whispered, ”Oh this is going to be good.”

Reia folded her hands in her lap, bracing herself like she was about to witness a magical car crash.

Clone Halden cleared her throat dramatically.

”Advice number one,” she said. ”If your magic feels unstable, just let it out. Holding it in is how you explode.”

Real Halden slapped her forehead. ”No. No. Do NOT let it out. That’s how you explode.”

Clone Halden waved her off. ”Semantics.”

Riley snorted.

Clone Halden turned to Reia next. ”Necromancer girl. You should practice raising things in the dorm bathroom. It’s private. And tiled.”

Reia looked horrified. ”I am not raising corpses in the bathroom.”

Real Halden pointed at her clone. ”Do NOT raise corpses in the bathroom. The plumbing is old. The ghosts get stuck.”

Reia blinked. ”The ghosts get stuck.”

Halden nodded grimly. ”They get confused and haunt the pipes.”

Clone Halden shrugged. ”They get over it.”

Riley wheezed, I wheezed along with her

Then the clone turned to Riley, eyes sparkling with mischief.

”And you, beastkin wolf. You should absolutely test your strength limits indoors. Preferably by lifting furniture.”

Riley’s eyes lit up. ”I like her.”

Real Halden nearly fell out of the chair. ”NO. No lifting furniture. No testing strength indoors.”

Clone Halden smirked. ”She’s just jealous she can’t bench‑press a couch.”

Halden’s tail puffed in indignation. ”I can bench‑press a couch.”

Riley leaned forward. ”Prove it.”

”NO,” Halden said again, louder.

Then the clone turned to me.

Her eyes softened. Her tail swished thoughtfully.

”And you, Zora,” she said. ”If you’re hiding something, Secrets make your magic unstable.”

My heart stopped.

Real Halden’s ears shot straight up. ”Clone. No...”

Clone Halden tilted her head. ”What. It’s true.”

Riley, gave me a look trying to tell me to keep it calm.

 Reia looked at me

My pulse hammered.

I forced a laugh. ”I’m not hiding anything.”

Clone Halden squinted at me like she could see straight through my skin.

Real Halden grabbed her clone by the shoulders. ”Okay. That’s enough wisdom for today.”

The clone pouted. ”I was helping.”

”You were not helping,” Halden said, dragging her toward the center of the room. ”You were causing emotional damage.”

Riley whispered, ”She’s not wrong though.”

I shot her a look sharp enough to cut stone.

Halden sighed, ears drooping. ”I swear, she’s like my intrusive thoughts but with legs.”

The clone beamed proudly.

Clone Halden leaned toward me again, eyes glowing faintly gold, tail swishing like a lie detector that had just found a jackpot.

”You said you were into track,” she said. ”But your posture isn’t runner posture. Your center of balance is different. Your muscle memory looks different from a runners.”

Real Halden tried to block her with both hands. ”Clone. Stop interrogating people.”

The clone ducked under her arms like a fox slipping through a fence.

She planted herself right in front of me.

”So, Zora,” she said. ”What exactly are you hiding.”

My pulse spiked.

Riley stiffened beside me.

I felt her knee bump mine, a silent I’m here, I’ve got you, don’t panic.

Reia watched with polite curiosity, not suspicion. Not yet.

”I’m not hiding anything,” I said, forcing my voice steady.

Clone Halden hummed. ”Mm. Your magic signature says otherwise.”

Real Halden groaned. ”Clone, you can’t just say things like that.”

But the clone was already circling me like a fox sniffing out secrets.

”You feel... rewritten,” she said. ”Like your body is adjusting to something bigger than a normal transformation.”

Riley’s breath hitched.

Reia tilted her head. ”Rewritten how.”

Clone Halden pointed at me. ”Like she wasn’t this shape before.”

My stomach dropped.

Riley shot to her feet so fast the bed creaked. ”Okay, that’s enough.”

Her voice was too sharp. Too protective. Too nervous.

Reia blinked at her. ”Riley...?”

Riley forced a laugh that sounded like it was dying. ”She’s a clone. She’s glitchy. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Clone Halden ignored her completely.

She leaned in, eyes narrowing. ”Zora, you’re—”

Riley stepped between us so fast her wolf‑bear instincts practically shook the air.

”Back. Off.”

Her voice was low.

Not angry.

Protective.

Clone Halden blinked. ”I’m just asking.”

”You’re prying,” Riley snapped. ”There’s a difference.”

Reia looked between us, confused. ”Is something wrong.”

”No,” Riley said too quickly.

I swallowed hard. ”Nothing’s wrong.”

Clone Halden tilted her head. ”You’re both lying.”

Real Halden grabbed her clone by the tail. ”Okay, interrogation time is OVER.”

The clone yelped. ”Hey! The tail is sensitive!”

Halden dragged her backward like a misbehaving cat. The clone whined ”Aww, but I was helping!”

”You were NOT helping,” Halden hissed, dragging her backward. ”You were about to emotionally nuke someone on day one.”

Riley sat back down beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched.

Her hand brushed mine, a tiny, grounding squeeze.

Reia watched us both, thoughtful but not suspicious. Not yet.

Halden shoved her clone behind her like she was hiding a toddler with a knife.

”New rule,” she said. ”Clone is banned from personal questions.”

The clone crossed her arms. ”I stand by my insights.”

Riley glared at her. ”Stand somewhere else.”

I exhaled shakily.

Riley leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. ”I’m here. I won’t let her out you.”

My chest tightened, fear, relief, and gratitude all tangled together.

Reia looked at us again, brow furrowed.

But she didn’t ask.