Divine Milking System-Chapter 38 | "Good Morning Future Disappointments"

I turned to see Naomi walking through the doors, and my breath caught.

She looked rough. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her normally bright face appeared drawn. Her pink and black striped hair hung loose around her shoulders, but it lacked its usual shine. She moved slowly, like every step required calculation.

The extraction tax. Had to be. I’d noticed she was tired last night but hadn’t realized how hard the energy drain would hit her.

Guilt pinched at me before I shoved it down. She’d been fully informed. She’d consented. And the stat gains proved the exchange benefited us both.

Still, watching her shuffle toward the food line made something uncomfortable twist in my stomach.

Naomi reached our table ten minutes later, balancing a tray with a single piece of toast and four—yes, four—cups of coffee arranged in a neat square.

"Morning," she said, voice barely above a whisper as she slid into the seat across from me.

"Jesus, Naomi," Belle stared at the coffee cups lined up like soldiers. "You planning to actually sleep this year, or...?"

Naomi’s laugh came out shaky and wrong. "Just tired. Didn’t sleep well."

Her eyes flicked to mine for half a second before she looked down at her coffee. Pink spread across her brown cheeks and down her neck. I knew exactly what she wasn’t saying. The extraction had hit her harder than either of us anticipated.

"You okay?" I kept my voice low.

She nodded, wrapping both hands around one of the cups like she needed its warmth to function. "Just need caffeine. A lot of it."

"Go easy on yourself today," Marc said, genuine concern in his tone. "That combat class yesterday wrecked everyone. You’re not the only one moving slow this morning."

The perfect excuse had landed in our laps. Marc was right. Half the first-years were limping around like they’d been run over by trucks after Garrett’s session. Naomi’s exhaustion fit the pattern completely. No one would question it.

"First homeroom’s today," Jordan mumbled without lifting his head from the table. "Vale’s supposed to show his face."

Belle snorted. "If he actually bothers. I heard he skips like half his own classes."

"Wait, that’s our teacher?" I asked. The novel had made Dominic Vale out to be charming, unreliable, and powerful enough to make the entire faculty nervous. An Obsidian assignment that was equal parts blessing and total chaos.

"Supposed to be," Belle said. "Nobody’s seen him yet this semester."

I finished my breakfast while the others discussed Vale, watching Naomi from the corner of my eye. She’d barely touched her toast, focusing entirely on systematically draining her coffee cups one after another. When she reached for the third cup, her hand trembled slightly.

"Hey," I said softly. "Want some of my fruit?"

She looked up, surprised. "Oh. No, I’m fine."

"You need food, not just caffeine."

Her eyes met mine fully for the first time that morning.

"Okay," she said finally. "Thanks."

I pushed my plate toward her, watching as she selected a strawberry and bit into it delicately. Her lips were the same pink as the fruit. I looked away.

"What’s with you two?" Belle asked suddenly.

My head snapped up. Belle was watching us with narrowed eyes, gaze flicking between me and Naomi.

"Nothing," Naomi said too quickly, voice rising half an octave.

"Uh-huh." Belle clearly didn’t believe it for a second.

I shrugged. "Just looking out for a classmate."

Belle’s expression remained skeptical, but before she could push further, a notification chimed from everyone’s phones simultaneously.

"Homeroom reminder," Marc explained, checking his screen. "Ten minutes."

Jordan groaned and finally lifted his head. "Is it too late to transfer to Amber?"

Belle stood, gathering her tray. "Way too late. Obsidian’s stuck with your lazy ass."

We cleared our tables and headed toward Building A, where our homeroom sessions would be held. Naomi fell into step beside me as we walked, her shoulder occasionally brushing mine as the crowd of students forced us closer together.

"Thank you for the fruit." She said quietly.

"I meant what I said. You need to eat." I kept my voice low, conscious of Belle walking just ahead of us. "The fatigue is temporary. Twelve hours max."

She nodded. "It’s not that bad, really. Just feels like I ran a marathon yesterday."

"You need protein and sugar. Fast carbs. Your body’s replenishing what was... taken."

Her cheeks flushed again. "I’ll eat a proper lunch."

We reached the classroom door, stepping into a traditional lecture hall with tiered seating. The Obsidian first-years were already clustering together, the natural social divisions appearing even in the seating arrangements. Guild kids up front. Lottery winners toward the back.

I settled into a seat somewhere in the middle tier, choosing a position that belonged to neither camp. After a pause, Naomi took the chair to my right. Belle’s eyebrow arched, but she claimed the spot on my left. Marc and Jordan filled in the seats around us.

"Think this Vale guy actually shows?" I asked.

"Big if," Jordan muttered.

The clock struck eleven. Right on cue, the door swung open.

Every student twisted in their seat as Dominic Vale strolled through the entrance like he owned the oxygen in the room. Six-three, rangy build that suggested deceptive power. Silver-white hair styled with the kind of casual perfection that required money or supernatural genetics. Designer sunglasses perched on his face despite being indoors. His suit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, draped under the standard academy instructor jacket like an afterthought.

"Good morning, future disappointments." His voice carried genuine amusement. "Welcome to the Greatest House Of All Time."

The guild kids in the front rows straightened automatically. Years of conditioning to respond to authority. The lottery winners in the back either tensed or slouched depending on personality type.

I leaned back in my seat and waited for the performance to continue.

Vale made his way to the front of the room with that same easy confidence, moving like someone who’d never questioned his right to occupy space. He hopped onto the desk rather than standing behind it, one leg folding over the other as he surveyed his new charges.

"Let me start with the bad news." He pulled off the sunglasses, revealing heterochromia so striking it had to be an awakening side effect. Left eye ice blue, right eye storm grey.

"Most of you won’t make it. Statistically speaking, twenty of you will wash out before second year. Another ten will transfer or drop by graduation. Of the remaining twenty who stick it out? Maybe five will actually matter."

Silence.

"Now the good news." His smile widened.

"I genuinely don’t give a shit which five you are. Rich kid, lottery winner, international prodigy, doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is whether you’re interesting."

Dominic scanned the room, arms spread wide. "Show of hands, who thinks they’ve got what it takes to be in that five?"

Hands shot up immediately. Almost every guild kid’s arm launched skyward with confident smiles. Several regular admission students raised theirs with varying degrees of certainty. Even a couple lottery winners tentatively lifted their hands.

Naomi’s arm stayed down, her eyes fixed on her desk. Belle’s hand rose halfway, like she couldn’t decide if this was a trap. Marc’s hand went up with surprising confidence.

I kept my hand down, watching Vale’s reaction.

"Good." His smile widened. "At least some of you have egos. We can work with that."

Vale pulled out a slim remote and clicked it once. A blue hologram materialized in front of the classroom, displaying what looked like a spreadsheet with names arranged in groups of four.

"Time to get sorted into your squads for the rest of the semester! These are your training units, study partners, and in some cases—" his mismatched eyes gleamed with amusement, "—the people who’ll save your lives during evaluations. Choose wisely who you piss off."