The air at this altitude is thin, sharp, and carries a faint metallic tang—the smell of the massive atmospheric stabilizers keeping the school’s "fold" hidden from the rest of the world.

As you step through the arches of the Aethelgard Institute, the heavy silence of the mountains is instantly replaced by a low, rhythmic hum. It isn't just machinery; it’s the collective energy of five hundred students breathing, thinking, and vibrating under one roof.