"Every system separates people — not through violence, but through order."
The sky above Red Vale was the color of rust.Sunlight never reached the ground — it shimmered, then died midair.
Students with guild sponsorships stood proudly at the front gates.Their uniforms were clean, their names already valued.Those without sponsors were herded below, into the under-hall corridors.
Elias walked among them quietly.He wasn't studying people — he was studying the architecture of control.
"You're from the orphanage, right?" one boy asked.
"Yeah."
"You think hard work will make you rise?"
"If a system can be watched," Elias said, "it means it's waiting for an audience."
The cafeteria smelled of metal and exhaustion.Food came in unmarked cans, recycled from old military supplies.
Isha sat beside him.
"You know, this stuff used to feed soldiers in Project God-Link."
"At least they lived long enough to taste it."
"You talk like an old man."
"Age only matters when the world is fair."
Their instructor, Harlan, addressed them later in the training hall.His voice cut through the static.
"Today you'll learn pattern recognition.If you fail for the same reason twice, it's not a system error — it's your choice."
Elias smiled faintly.