It had been a hard decision. I agonized over it day and night, weighing my aspirations against my current skill. My dad is great at teaching, but his specialty lay in preparing crystals rather than mechanics. I'm running out of books to study, and while my little shop is my pride and joy, it's small. I want... more. And as awful as it is to admit it, Scout had a point. Taking this deal would springboard me into a life of my own, especially if it led to financial independence. And getting to a point where I no longer had to fear my own power... well, it would be a dream come true.

Today is the day.

I'm laying on my bed, staring up at the blank ceiling above. I don't know how to feel. I'm excited, of course. But there's a weight deep at the bottom of my stomach that I just can't seem to dislodge. I sigh to myself, and glance around my room. I had moved most of my belongings out a long time ago. This used to be my makeshift workshop before my dad gifted me the garage, and it had been somewhat empty ever since. What little is left of my personal belongings have been haphazardly thrown into two suitcases.

Moving my workshop into a dorm room just isn't going to be possible. I better pick and choose what materials I want to bring with me, I think. It's a good thing that Gizmo's shop is near campus. I'll finally be able to call in those IOUs.

I can hear rapid footsteps downstairs, and the muffled sounds of voices. I had been told that I wasn't to leave my room under any circumstances. I smirk to myself, wondering if this was my dad's attempt at keeping me here. I doubt it, but he was certainly acting suspicious earlier.

Eventually, there's a knock at my door. I roll out of bed and open the door. I'm greeted by a familiar pair of glasses and poofy hair.

"Ben?!" I exclaim, grinning. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, missing link, I figured since we're both moving to the same place, that we may as well go together," Ben says, holding up a slip of paper. An admissions letter.

"You got in!" I shout, grinning widely. I step forward and give him a bear hug. Suddenly, that weight in my stomach isn't nearly as heavy.

"I got in," he confirms, stepping back and readjusting his askew glasses. As always, he had shown up in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. 'The perfect blend of casual and intellectual,' or so he liked to tell me. "Ooooo I'm so excited! Can you believe it?! The two of us are going to take that place by storm–I just know it."
"I plan on it. But only if you can sneak me the latest in crystal tech," I retort, moving to ruffle his irresistibly large hair. He swats my hand away and pouts at me.

"You know better than to touch the hair," he says, his pout quickly turning into a smirk. "I don't care that you're a friend–this baby takes effort. No touchie."

We spend a moment catching up on what had happened since we parted last. He barely blinks when I tell him about the dynamic test, but balks at the conditions of my enrollment.

"They're going to make you go into the military? Dia... are you sure?" he asks, lip curled in concern. "Doesn't that go against everything you stand for?"

"Dr. Isitori said that they have engineers with the H.A.T, so it may not turn out so bad," I say, trying to sound optimistic.

"I mean... yeah, but do you really think they'd let you do that?"

I take a deep breath, twisting my bracelets.

"I guess I'll be finding out," I say. It takes effort to keep the waver out of my voice.

"A-anyway," Ben says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, "Your dad sent me to get you. The par- I mean, he said you can come down now."

"Party?" I ask, grinning. "Did I just hear you say party?"

"Nooooo," Ben drawls, knowing he isn't fooling anybody.

Doting as always, my dad had set up a farewell party for me. The two of us descend the stairs, and as we reach the bottom, the rest of my family jumps out, showering me with confetti. There's cake, and board games, and we all generally have a good time. My father and Ben spend nearly a full hour discussing the theoretics of crystal development, while Detric and Mary-Ann help me move my things into the back of the family car. When it gets to be time to go, my father pulls me aside.

"Come with me," he says, leading the way up the stairs to his workshop.

Despite its size, it feels crowded. Several shelving units bursting with books and odds and ends line one side, and the rest of the walls house stainless steel work tables and industrial grade equipment. His desk is shoved off to one side like an afterthought. The light in the room is rather dim, but the glow of hundreds of crystals make up for it. They're everywhere–strewn across tables, displayed in cases, sitting under various tools... a few even lay chipped on the floor. I'm careful to watch my step.

"So... you're going to college," he says tightly, keeping his face angled away. "Big day."

"Big day," I agree. On one table, there's a vat of some strange black... rock? Metal? Something else? It shines with the reflected light of crystals, but it's in such a strange geometric pattern that it looks... unnatural. It takes an effort to drag my eyes away from it.

"And you also turned eighteen recently. I know that you turned down my offer to buy an automaton–said you'd rather fix one up, or build one yourself," he continues.

"That's right."

"Well... it didn't sit right with me. Letting my little girl go without a gift, that is," he says, still facing away from me. "So... you get your choice."

"My choice of what?" I ask, glancing around.

"Anything. Raid the workshop to your heart's desire."

"Anything?!" I gasp, immediately searching my surroundings. I have a feeling there are some crystals in here worth more than the house we live in. My dad flinches at my excitement, and finally turns around, his eyes misty.

"W-within reason, of course," he amends, voice strained.

"Aww, Dad." He immediately hides his face behind me as I hug him, giving him a healthy squeeze. He tries his best to hide it, but the wet patches on my shoulder are a giveaway. "This isn't goodbye. I'll be just an airtrain ride away."

"I know, I know," he sighs. "It's just not going to be the same, without that racket coming from the garage. And this house is so big–it'll feel so empty now."

"You can always downsize," I say teasingly.

"No chance," he grumbles, pulling back and wiping at his face. "You'll always have a room here, you hear me? And the garage is yours until you find a replacement."

He clears his throat and composes himself.

"Anyway. Like I said... have at it. But let's limit ourselves, shall we? Let's say... ten crystals?"

"Ten?!" I waste no more time, scouring over my dad's immense collection.

What would I even do with all those crystals?

The blueprints in the back of the garage come to mind, and a grin crosses my face. I had toyed around with the idea of using crystals directly. This was my chance. But first...

"Hey dad, what's this?" I ask, crossing over to the table with the strange black substance. In the time that I've been in the room, it's shifted its shape. It appears all spikey, like a sea urchin. I move to gently poke the side of one of the spines... and find that my finger goes straight through it. A shiver runs up my spine–it's cold. I pull my finger out again, but there isn't so much as a spot on it.

"Oh, that?" he says, crossing over to me. "It's nothing too special, just some ferrofluid. I've been messing around with a magnetic field generating crystal to see what it does. It has some pretty interesting qualities–watch this."

He draws my attention to a small silver crystal underneath the petri dish of ferrofluid. He touches the crystal, directing some of his power into it.

"As you know, interacting with biomatter makes the magic conduction abilities of crystals much, much less powerful," he explains, going into geek mode. "This is the reason why we don't wield crystals ourselves; the effects just aren't as impressive. However, there's still enough of an effect to do this."

The crystal glows brighter and the ferrofluid rapidly changes forms. It takes the shape of a cube. A sphere. A cat, a sword, a flat disk... my dad plays with it until I'm suitably impressed, and then wills it back into a spikey ball.

"Touch it now," he says. "Gently, though."
I do as he asks... and quickly pull back my finger.

"It's solid," I gasp, wide-eyed. My mind races, filling with the possible applications. "You're telling me you can change its shape at will, and even make it solid? Just imagine what you could do with an automaton!"

He chuckles, pulling away from the crystal.

"I doubt it'll be widely utilized. The solid metal isn't especially durable, and it would be rather easy to damage interior components–like crystals–if handled incorrectly," he says. "Sure makes for a fun conversation starter, though."

I hum to myself, thinking. Valid points... but so long as you constructed the bot in such a way that the interior components were protected, it could make for a very versatile automaton. If there was more fluid than just this, of course. I glance around the table, searching for–

Aha!

"Alright, well. If I can take whatever I want," I start, fixating on a sealed bucket, "I want that."

I point at the large bucket he'd set next to the table. It's clearly marked 'ferrofluid.' My father follows the line of my finger, and balks.

"Really? What on earth do you want it for?" he asks. Then he shakes his head and shrugs. "Sure. I wasn't going to use it anyway. I assume you're going to need the magnetic field crystal, too?"

"Absolutely," I say. My blueprints come back to mind, and my grin widens. "I'm also going to need two telekinesis crystals, a forcefield crystal, a beam crystal, an x-ray crystal, and a projection crystal. That comes out to what... eight, if you count the bucket? I guess I'll throw in a reinforcement and extra telekinesis crystal for good measure."

Dad whistles, face going a bit pale. He moves from table to table, collecting the requested crystals and placing them in a velvet drawstring bag.

"I know I said ten, but I guess I didn't think you'd take me up on all of them," he says teasingly, grimacing with each crystal put in the bag.

"Oh come on, as if you couldn't replace them," I joke, following him around his workshop. "Don't you buy magiore super cheap and carve them all yourself?"

"Yes, yes, that's true. But carving isn't exactly quick and easy, you know!" He finishes out the bag with the magnetic field crystal, and pulls the bag closed. He then sets it in my outstretched hands, the crystals settling with a clink. He looks up at me for a moment, eyes slowly growing misty again. "Happy birthday, little Diamond. I hope these crystals serve you well in your future endeavors."

"Thanks, dad," I say, going in for another hug. "I'll put them to good use, I promise."

"You'd better," he says gruffly, pulling back. "Or I'll come find you and ask you just what the heck you're doing at the houty-touty school!"

I laugh, and lead the way back out of his study.

"Deal."

***

Once my and Ben's things are all loaded–including my newly acquired ferrofluid–we make the long drive to the academy. What was only half an hour by airtrain takes nearly two hours by car, even though the roads are near-deserted these days. Dad once told me that traffic used to be bumper to bumper, before the city instituted their telekinetic-powered public transport. In fact, cars have become something of a luxury.

Ben and I keep our eyes glued to the window, taking in the scenery as a way of quelling our nerves. The drive seems to go by much too quickly, and we're suddenly once again before the university's massive iron gates. Unlike the last time, they're wide open, granting direct access to the school's protective bubble. There are a few other cars lining up to get in, though it seems like the majority of students streaming by have only brought one or two bags. The guilt of it nags at me, but I try not to let it show. Instead, I watch as each student marches through the barrier, a small circle of their dynamic color showing the spot where they entered. Blue, red, orange, yellow, green–each a distinctly unique shade.

An automaton stops us when it's our turn to enter, and asks my father to register his dynami as a guest. Their tablet lights up a pale blue, not unlike a robin's egg. And then we're through, driving through the bubble as though it were empty air. The view we're greeted with is breathtaking. The university grounds are well maintained, with manicured green grass and thoughtfully organized beds of flowers and other plants. Mature oak trees dot the scenery, shading student sidewalks.

The buildings on campus are unique, a strange juxtaposition of historic brick buildings and the cold steel of modern architecture. To my left is the only part of campus I've seen before; the clinic where I had been allowed to recover. The clinic is an unassuming brick building near the edge of campus. Despite being several stories tall itself, it's absolutely dwarfed by the steel skyscraper situated next to it. The building gleams in the intense sunlight, its slowly spiraling design capable of blinding onlookers from all angles. In fact, everything we pass is grand in scale. A large airplane hanger is on our other side, and we also see what appears to be a colosseum-style amphitheater of some sort.

It isn't long before we reach the heart of campus. Like everything else I've seen so far, it's massive–I can only describe it as a city square. It's bustling with hundreds of students and their automatons, all laughing and carrying on as they amble across pale red brick pavers. The odd tree has been worked into breaks in the brick, providing shade for small clusters of tables and chairs. Either side of the square is lined with smaller, charming buildings. From here, I can make out what appears to be a dining hall, a gym, the bookstore, and various student services buildings. But none of that is what draws my attention.

I get out of the car, unable to tear my eyes away. Directly across the square from us is a massive gothic-style clocktower, its peak several hundred feet in the air. The clock face is a large silver disk, its diameter wide enough that even three eighteen-wheelers parked end-to-end couldn't stretch across it. Its hands are ornately carved, whorls of gold streaking across the otherwise black composition. As the clock strikes two, it bursts into song, the deep melody of its bells ringing out across the square and echoing off the surrounding buildings.

"Wow," Ben murmurs next to me. "I had heard about the clocktower, but I never imagined it'd be that... big."

I nod in agreement, unable to find the words for the strange mix of apprehension and excitement in my chest. On either side of the clocktower are more modern buildings; large rectangles of white and glass. Though they must have been constructed more recently, they both connect to the tower itself. I wonder if you could go through the clock tower to get from one side to the other. First year students are forming lines in front of the newer buildings, where rows of tables have been set up.

"May I have your dynamic signature, please?" a voice suddenly asks. I startle, and look behind me to find a cute little automaton dressed as a doorman. A large platform hovers behind him, where a second automaton is already beginning the process of loading my luggage, directed by Mary-Ann. I cringe a little seeing my precious collection literally fly out of the back of the car.

Our hesitation prompts a second request.

"May I have your dynamic signature, please?"

It holds out a tablet towards me. I twist my bracelets, the incident with the crystals still fresh in my mind.

"What for?" I ask. It blinks at me.

"Processing question... Understood. We require your signature to deliver your luggage directly to your dorm room," it says. Then it offers the tablet again. "May I have your dynamic signature, please?"

I would definitely rather not carry everything.

I sigh to myself and slip one of my bracelets into my pocket, the familiar heat already rising to my cheeks. I quickly press a hand to the tablet, the cool glass combating the burning in my veins. Once it glows mint green and chimes, I quickly shove my hand back into my pocket, slipping my bracelet back on. Ben is watching me carefully, a note of concern on his face.

"I think these dynamic scans are going to be fairly common on campus," he notes, pressing his own hand onto the glass. The screen glows dandelion yellow. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," I say, sighing as my temperature goes back down. "I brought my full kit of drain crystals along with me. With some trial and error, I should be able to find one that leaves me enough power to handle scans like that."

My father, in all his foresight, had made me nearly a dozen different drain crystal bracelets, each with a different number of crystal beads. The lower the number of crystal beads, the more power remains in my body. The idea is that I can use lower number bracelets once I have automatons of my own, since powering them would be just as effective as using drain crystals.

"Thank you for your signatures. Your luggage will be delivered to your rooms," the bot says, placing the tablet on the hovering dolly. "Please proceed to check-in to receive your room number and keys."

It points across the plaza to the rows of tables. It then promptly takes off in that direction, the trolley and its companion following close behind. Ben and I look at each other.

"Well?" he asks.

"I guess we should go," I agree.

"No you don't," my dad says, hugging me from behind. "You clearly forgot something."

"Daaaaad," I groan, giggling under my breath. He lets me go, and I turn to face him. I thought he had gotten the tears out of his system earlier, but his eyes are still misty as he looks at me. Mary-Ann stands behind him, her own expression carefully neutral. "I didn't forget–I was just about to say goodbye!"

"You'd better have been," he grumbles, gently tousling my hair. "I'm sure my little girl isn't the type to abandon her old man like that."

He sighs to himself, and wipes the tears out of the corner of his eyes.

"Well... I guess it's time. Little Diamond is finally leaving the house, huh?" he muses. He pulls me into another hug. "You're gonna do great here, Dia. Make some friends, learn all you can. You'll always have a place at home, so come visit often, you hear me?"

"I will, I promise." I take a step back, and he nods to himself. He gestures at Ben, who walks over to us. Dad claps Ben on the shoulder, and squeezes a bit.

"You too, son. If you ever need a place, our doors are open to you," he says.

"Thank you sir," Ben says with a nod. My dad claps both of our shoulders.

"Alright, well... I won't keep you. Off you go then."

He spins us both around, and gives us a gentle shove in the direction of the sign-in lines. As we walk off, I risk a glance behind me. Dad has disappeared back into the car, leaving Mary-Ann the only one left to see. She gives me a sad smile and waves, her golden braid swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.