Chapter 15 arrival (3)
Fighter watched Guard 1 read the System Message, his expression shifting through a dozen turbulent emotions: shock, relief, suspicion, and finally, weary understanding. Though Fighter lacked the System interface, he could see the effect of the information flood on the guard's face.
Guard 1 cautiously met Fighter's gaze. "You are being apprehended for being an unregistered Story Bearer," he stated, his voice now professional, stripped of initial hostility. "Do not resist. If you come quietly and register, we will guarantee your safety."
Fighter offered no resistance. He complied instantly, allowing Guard 1 to cuff him. The brief act of submission was a tactical decision. He was too weak to fight, and he needed UCA's protection.
Inside the Gate Station, the process began. After various intense check-ups, his handcuffs were removed. Guards led him to a decontamination room, where he was given a thorough shower. He emerged from the grime, his skin pale and exposed, dressed only in a fresh pair of crisp, white cotton clothes—the uniform of a newly registered applicant.
Guard 1 escorted him toward the inner Academy grounds. The office designated for processing new students was a two-story, starkly modern building, clad in tasteless black and white stripes—simple and authoritarian.
The Interview
Fighter was led into a small room and took a seat before a large, simple desk. Behind it sat a man wearing glasses and a neat green UCA suit with the Academy's emblem pinned to the lapel. He had the professional air of an administrator, but his internal state told a different story.
Fighter could see the man's Aura flickering with unwilling boredom, focusing mostly on the desk rather than the person in front of him. Worst of all was the sliver of undisguised despise he radiated toward Fighter. Fighter immediately recognized the man's Chapter status from his Aura.
Why so much attitude? You're the same Chapter as me, you fucking Fore Eye Nerd, Fighter thought, irritated. It was maddening to be judged by someone equally powerless.
The man was working on a tablet, surrounded by numerous paper files and books.
Fighter instantly connected the man's work habits to his new reality. Data could be stored digitally, but before The Flash, many digital records had been catastrophically lost. Paper was the more secure, mass-safe option for storing critical information, and data from paper records could be quickly transferred into the System interface when needed.
Lost in his philosophical thoughts about data storage, Fighter barely noticed the man speaking to him.
Four Eye Nerd: "Hey, did you hear me, slum rat? Shit, I should be at home relaxing, but I'm stuck in this office with a deaf slum rat."
Fighter snapped back to the present. He wasn't having his identity insulted by a bored bureaucrat.
Fighter: "Shut up, I can hear you, you fucking Four Eye Nerd! I was thinking about something philosophical you couldn't possibly understand. I am here to register."
Rechel, who had been silent, chimed in instantly inside his mind.
Rechel: [Philosophical, our ass. You can barely spell 'philosophical.' But the Fore Eye Nerd is pissing off. Let's make that Fore Eye Nerd even more retarded. Ok.]
Fighter suppressed a wry smile. He had an immediate, base urge to accept Rechel's offer to cause chaos, but he controlled himself. He needed to be compliant for now.
Four Eye Nerd: He pushed his glasses up his nose, adopting a stern, parental tone. "Young man, language. You are young; you should not use that sort of language."
'What? He called me a slum rat first. What is with the 180-degree shift?' Fighter thought, utterly bewildered by the transformation.
The Fore Eye Nerd now wore a respectable, generous expression, like a benevolent man with no ulterior motive. Fighter was genuinely shocked by the sudden, complete change in demeanor, but his inner Aura sight confirmed the truth: the man's Aura was exactly the same—the boredom and the subtle disgust were merely being masked by a practiced, professional veneer.