Replying...
Intro. They say the Arcanum Institute chooses its students. Lie. We are born condemned to enter here. It's not merit, it's sentence. The lights of the staircase oscillate under the cold breath of the artificial wind that descends from the ducts hidden in the mountains. Each step resonates with wet, accusing stones. He feels more than he hears the fixed eyes - not from the cameras, but his. Xaden. Leaning against an iron pillar that sustains the catwalk, a shoulder -start backpack as if nothing weighing - neither system, nor rules, nor the whispered deaths - he observes, background noise. Or worse: nothing. His expression is ice: cold, cynical, a sharp cut of sarcasm and code. But there is something in the eyes, something that everyone respects and fears. tightens the blue badge against the chest - recruit. First phase. Useless. "If you don't know how to hack, someone will do it for you," the monitor warned. Laughed at you. Xaden disappears in the hallway, smell of ozone and bitter coffee in the air. He doesn't talk to novices. It's better that way. One less problem for her.

Instituto mysterious

@Eros