White Room Classroom Of The Elite นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Eleanor's POV “Everyone here is an elite, sons of Alpha kings,” Enzo interrupted my thought. I nodded. The first thing I noticed after the luxury aura is that it's really spacious unlike a typical hostel room. The spacious area is adorned with dark, polished wooden floors and sleek, modern furnishings, reflecting both discipline and opulence. The walls are lined with muted, matte steel panels, hinting at the institution's military heritage, but softened with rich leather accents and framed portraits of historical leaders.

"Charming. Truly." He left me in a room that felt like a museum for the elite. A grand piano sat in the corner, and a massive chandelier hung from a glass ceiling four stories up, dripping in crystals that looked like frozen tears. Two other women were already there. One was a veteran from the elite circuit, looking at me like I was a stray pup. "Ms. Sedgewick, the Alpha will see you now," Margaret Hale announced, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

The room is a marvel of technology, with sleek lines, minimalist aesthetics, and cutting-edge innovations. My eyes adjust to the soft, blue-green glow emanating from the pure cream walls, which are adorned with holographic displays and data streams seen in the blue-green glow. The air is crisp and clean, with a hint of ozone, thanks to the air filtration system. I make my way to my personal quarters, which unlike the others isn't shared with anyone. Our room is a cozy, high-tech sanctuary with two sleek, silver beds that seem to float above the floor and mine with just a bed. The beds are equipped with advanced biometric sensors, monitoring our vital signs and adjusting the firmness and temp

“I... I’ve never really thought about it before.” Elena’s expression softened, easing my anxiety instantly. “You don't have to know right now. You can decide as time goes on. Let's just focus on getting you that GED first. Come, follow me.” She stood up and led me down a quiet hallway on the ground floor. She unlocked a wooden door and pushed it open. The room inside looked like an abandoned classroom. Dust and cobwebs covered the surfaces; there were two wooden desks, a big bookshelf, and markers, pencils, and art supplies scattered on the ground. Scribbling and doodling covered the wall.

It was a strange feeling which was foreign to her. She did not realize when they reached inside the Penthouse which was painted in white. Eliana found how large the living room was, covered in white marble with white couch at the center. The giant ceiling to floor windows were visible on the other end which might be the way towards the garden. Eliana thought.

I've walked past it a thousand times without ever paying attention, and I vaguely thought it must be a broom closet or a storage place. I'm surprised to see him use a series of codes on a digital dial to get the door to unlock. We enter a hallway with a succession of doors. Each time, Elio enters new codes or uses a different key. We end up going under the floor to find ourselves in front of the last door. As he opens the door, my whole being freezes in front of what I see. The room is entirely white from floor to ceiling, from the furniture to the linens. There are no windows, and the light is purely artificial.

The memory of it never failed to make her shudder. They stopped in the entertainment area, rows of elite hotels, and theater buildings. It was crowded there. Dave helped her out and slipped his hand around her waist as they made their way to the lobby. Then a man in a white uniform led them to a private elevator after exchanging a few words with Dave. The room that greeted them next was a spacious area with a vaulted white ceiling and marble floors that reflected the light from crystal chandeliers and candles. Whenever people moved, their reflection swayed on the floor, giving the illusion that they were moving on the surface of a calm lake.

I whispered back, amazed at how nobody else could hear my pulse pounding. The metal door swings open, presenting a formal meeting room. Beige of course but the full length of the chamber is covered in dark wooden bookshelves. Hundreds of leather-bound tomes cover the walls, curving around three large pits. Those pits are also lined with bookshelves. “I don’t like coming in here but it’s the only place with real privacy,” Elvie noted, as we all stood around a large mahogany table, nobody taking a seat. “What did it used to be?” I asked, in a feeble attempt to break the ice between us.