The sun hovered low over the silver skyline of Sector Delta Academy, gilding the metallic towers in amber. Oliver Vale stood in formation beside his squadmates on the upper parade deck, the cold wind tugging at his standard-issue jacket. The platform overlooked a sprawling arena where other squads were lining up, their boots clanking in unison on the steel floor.
Today was different.
Today was the evaluation.
"Stand straight," barked Sergeant Korr, a towering slab of muscle with a square jaw and a voice like metal grinding against gravel. "This is not a classroom test. This is war prep. Understood?"
"YES, SIR!" the cadets chorused.
Oliver didn't speak. He was already focusing inward. Deep within, beneath layers of bio-coding, cybernetic interfaces, and instinct, something pulsed.
The System.
Its voice remained silent now, dormant since the night in the ruins. But Oliver could feel it — like a coiled serpent watching, waiting for its moment.
Across the deck, a group of elite cadets strode toward the formation. Their uniforms bore red stripes — a mark of distinction. One of them, a tall, silver-haired boy with pale blue eyes and a perpetual smirk, led the way.
"Here we go," muttered Juno, Oliver's squadmate. "The Crimson Unit."
The silver-haired boy stepped forward and addressed the instructor. "Permission to observe the lower squad evaluations, Sergeant."
Korr grunted, giving a nod.
The boy turned toward Oliver's squad, eyeing them like one would inspect secondhand merchandise.
"Which one's the Core Anomaly?" he asked loudly, not caring who heard.
Oliver's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
"Vale," whispered Darius beside him. "He's talking about you."
The Crimson Unit boy — clearly the commander — stepped closer until he was face to face with Oliver.
"You. What's your name?"
"Oliver Vale."
The boy's smirk widened. "You look average. Move like a civilian. Yet you've been flagged for aberrant performance metrics. Care to explain?"
"Just trying my best," Oliver replied evenly.
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then 'your best' must be cheating. There's no way someone with your profile scores that high without an enhancer or a backdoor."
Oliver clenched his fists. The System remained still, silent. He had to tread carefully. If anyone suspected he had an unauthorized source of power, the consequences could be catastrophic.
"Or maybe," Aria's voice cut in, "he's just better than you."
Everyone turned.
She stood near the edge of the formation, arms crossed, hair tousled by the wind. Her black cadet uniform hugged her athletic form, the silver emblem on her collar gleaming. Her long jet-black hair had a few streaks of copper under the sun, and her eyes — icy teal — were fixed on the elite boy with mild amusement.
"Aria," the boy said, his smile fading just a fraction. "Still sticking up for underdogs?"
"Still threatened by anyone not born into power?" she shot back.
Muffled laughter rippled through the lower cadets.
The boy stepped away from Oliver and gave Aria a once-over. "Keep playing with the mudbloods, Aria. Just don't cry when they disappoint you."
He spun on his heel and motioned for his squad to follow.
The tension broke slightly, but Oliver could still feel the way people were looking at him now — curious, cautious.
"Thanks," he said to Aria quietly.
She shrugged. "I wasn't doing it for you. I just hate posers."
Oliver cracked the slightest smile.
But deep down, he noted something strange.
The System had flared for a second when the elite boy approached. Not activated — but observed.
Later That Evening
In the training sim room, Oliver practiced on the zero-g module. As he hovered midair, moving through kinetic routines, the System whispered again:
[Danger potential: Subject ID 39412. Genetic modification detected. Estimated power tier: Delta-Rising.]
"Who is that?" Oliver asked internally.
[Subject: Kaien Deros. Academy record holder. Suspected heir to Orion Technologies' AI augmentation division.]
So the silver-haired boy was more than a rich brat. He was enhanced.
"Can I beat him?" Oliver asked.
[If growth trajectory is maintained… in time.]
Great. Vague encouragement from a talking god-box.
"Any advice until then?"
[Remain underestimated.]
Oliver grinned.
The Next Day — Sparring Arena
Squads gathered under the glaring lights of the combat dome. Evaluation day meant public duels, judged by instructors and internal academy AIs.
Oliver was matched against a bulkier cadet from Squad 9.
As they circled each other in the ring, he heard whispers.
"That's the guy who embarrassed Kaien's ego yesterday."
"Watch him flop. Probably just luck."
Oliver relaxed his stance, letting the other boy lunge first.
Big mistake.
With two precise movements, Oliver redirected the punch, slid behind, and swept the opponent to the ground with surgical grace.
Cheers erupted. Instructors nodded. Even Korr raised an eyebrow.
But Aria… she just watched with a thoughtful expression.
After the Match
"Nice move," Juno said. "You've been holding out on us."
"I train a lot," Oliver offered, then paused. "More than I let on."
She winked. "Mysterious guy. Just don't disappear before the tournament, okay?"
Darius clapped his back. "If he fights like that in the Earth Cup, we're golden."
Oliver looked toward the arena entrance.
Kaien Deros stood watching. Smiling.
But this time, the smile didn't reach his eyes.