Since I had nothing better to do, and I didn’t feel like talking to someone, or wanted to be talked to unprompted, I decided to check out the circular building I saw earlier.

  It caught my eye because of how out-of-the-way it was compared to every location in the school and dorms.

  It was a simple, cylindrical white building that appeared to be taller than the school itself. The simple, unassuming design reminded me of water reservoirs or nuclear power plants back on Earth.

  With classes going on, there should be little to prevent me from doing a little more exploration. And it’s not like I’m skipping classes. I start those tomorrow.

  The entrance into the mysterious building was on the opposite side of where the dorms were, nearest to the school, and it has a stone brick path leading to the entrance.

  This is quite grandiose.

  On both sides of the entrance were a part of unlit torches built into the wall. I imagined they were lit at night or were lit when something special happened. Perhaps a bit of both.

  Standing at the foot of the entrance really gave a sense of how imposing the building looked. As if I were standing at the foot of a sealed temple entrance or a historical religious location, left alone to protect its sanctity.

  I wonder what the relationship is between this building and the school?

  The entrance was blocked by a black wooden door. It was so black that I had to squint inches away from it to make out its texture. I elected not to touch, anticipating there was some kind of barrier similar to the one I was in the square dirt room, but with a more violent, reactive effect.

  How long do I have until lunch?

  Bored, I thought of a simple game to play with myself. To answer what the purpose of this building was.

  In a world of magic, anything was possible, but that didn’t mean everything was. Why would a school clearly filled with magical talents have a secluded building this far from the campus?

  The stone brick path connecting it to the school clearly indicated some sort of relationship.

  As for the torches, perhaps they had some sort of ceremonial purpose? If they were to be considered from a pragmatic standpoint, they’re meant to illuminate the entrance when it’s dark. The sconces I’ve seen indicate potential traversal of the campus at night.

  Do they need the night to perform a certain magic?

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  I never really saw anything indicating a time-sensitive form of magic. Then again, I’ve only been around for 2 days. Perhaps a time-sensitive facet of magic will show up in the future?

  I’ve racked my brain, thinking of what possible magic needed to be performed at night, when I thought back to the altar I had manifested on, and my trek to the school while a moon was out.

  That was when it dawned on me.

  Could there be another summoning altar behind this door?

  If the book is any indication, summoning has a history in this world. Enough for it to have a few pages worth, up to an entire, really thick book about it.

  Is summoning a subject taught in this school?

  If it is, then an entire school being built so close to an altar is a major cause for concern. What if there’s research on finding and ensuring ways to control summoned beings? What if my language barrier isn’t a result of that god reincarnating me, but a measure placed onto me to make sure I can’t disobey them, even force me to do certain things against my will?

  I shuddered at the thought.

  Being controlled through systematic oppression is already a nightmare, but to have my own actions directly dictated by someone else’s will?

  I shouldn’t be afraid to commit suicide as a measure, in case they force me to do something I’d never do willingly. Geez, what the hell am I thinking?

  Disturbed by my own thoughts, I decided I had enough of checking out the mysterious building. If I want to know what’s in that building one way, I’ll either have to ask one of the faculty or break down the door myself. I've already pissed off enough people here; I didn’t want to add an entire roster to that list.

  …

  Sure enough, the cafeteria was bustling with students. Everyone was sitting in their own group, reminiscent of what I saw back in middle and high school. The scene was enough for me to forget I had reincarnated in another world not too long ago.

  Almost…

  At one table, I saw two students playfighting with each other by levitating… something and playing a game of tug of war. When it finished, the winner celebrated by plopping whatever it was they won directly into their mouth.

  Another had someone’s tray frozen in a miniature glacier of ice. It looked like something blew the contents of the tray into the air, and the ice was made to catch them before they fell to the ground, as some of it was sticking on the end of some ice spikes produced by the miniature glacier.

  At another table, it seemed some students were playing a game of how many food items could be juggled on a Ferris wheel formed by wind magic. The different items were spinning in different ways midair, depending on how they were shaped.

  Everyone else was either talking to someone or choosing to eat in relative peace.

  It looked chaotic. Just a smidge.

  I guess the line would be over there.

  I observed the students getting their trays of food, and it appeared to operate no differently from buffets or mess halls in my world, where it was mostly self-serve, but at times necessitated someone else behind the counter giving you a serving of what you desired, whether it’d be eggs, sliced meat, ramen, whatever. Here, all selections required staff intervention.

  When I approached the counter, I saw a familiar face. It was the woman Ms. Grey had talked to when I first saw the buffet arrangement.

  Maybe it won’t be so bad.

  I grabbed a tray and got in line, ready to point at whatever looked appetizing. When it was my turn, I simply pointed at what I wanted, thinking that’d it be more than enough to get served.

  5 seconds has passed. Maybe they’re a bit slow.

  10 seconds. I noticed the serving utensil wasn’t moving.

  13 seconds. I looked up, wondering what was wrong.

  The person behind the food trays was staring directly at me, giving me an odd look, repeating a sequence of syllables.

  Damn it.