A thick rain fell over Regis Institute that morning, turning the polished walkways into sheets of reflection. Lightning cracked above the eastern towers, briefly illuminating the massive glass banners bearing the academy's motto:
"Strength Above All. Weakness Without Mercy."
Kael walked through the rain in silence.
The activation of his ability inside the dome had left him different. His body didn't ache anymore—not in the traditional sense. It shifted, constantly, like his muscles were syncing with invisible rhythms only he could feel.
His steps felt lighter. His reactions quicker.
He wasn't at his peak.
He was becoming it.
But even now, as the storm passed above, and the whispers around campus grew louder, his gray-band remained unchanged.
To the outside world, he was still just Unranked.
Inside the main hall, cadets gathered for official Class Assignments. Each squad would be distributed across departments for specialized training—combat, strategy, field operations, and power control.
The display board scrolled with names and placements. The higher the rank, the closer to the central tower you were placed. Proximity meant status. Prestige.
And protection.
Class 13-Z's name finally blinked into view:
13-Z ASSIGNMENT: Tactical Subdivision, Combat Track – Outpost Unit 7BLocation: South Perimeter Barracks – Section Theta-4
A collective groan followed.
"Seriously?" Dane muttered. "That's basically the academy's dump yard."
Lira crossed her arms. "Outpost 7B is where they station cadets they don't expect to graduate."
Renna simply said, "Figures."
Kael studied the map. Theta-4 was deep in the institute's southern range—far from any central routes or patrol zones. It bordered a cliff face and had no high-speed rail access.
They weren't just being put in the back.
They were being buried.
An hour later, they arrived at their new assignment. The barracks were half-buried in rust and vines. Training bots lay in pieces across the field. One turret still sparked as if it had been left in mid-repair and forgotten.
"Welcome to paradise," Dane said flatly.
Inside, the dorms were narrow, utilitarian. Each cadet was assigned a single cot and storage locker. No AI assistants. No climate control.
No recognition.
Kael dropped his pack beside the bed and sat down.
He didn't mind the conditions. He hadn't expected better.
But what he did mind was the intent behind it.
This wasn't about efficiency.
It was isolation.
Keep the unknowns out of sight. Keep the unstable and unworthy in one place.
Instructor Breshk arrived later that evening, standing in the doorway like a wall of steel.
"This is your base of operations now," he said. "Everything here runs because you make it run. Clean, repair, train. You need something? Find it. You break something? Fix it."
No one objected.
"Starting tomorrow, you'll begin live-combat field rotations. You'll be sent into the outer simulation zones—no drone oversight. Real environments. Real consequences. Teams cycle every three days."
He looked directly at Kael. "You're team lead."
Kael blinked. "Why?"
"You lasted the longest. You showed initiative. You didn't get anyone killed."
Renna tilted her head. "I almost wanted to die in that dome."
Dane chuckled.
Breshk tossed Kael a small tablet. "That's your command tablet. Maps, squad vitals, mission uploads. Lose it, and you fail."
Kael caught it, eyes scanning the interface.
This wasn't just combat.
It was command.
Later that night, Kael sat outside the barracks under the darkening sky. Rain dripped slowly from the edges of the overhang, tapping against the metal in slow rhythm.
Lira approached, her footsteps soft.
"You don't act like a leader," she said, leaning against the support beam beside him.
"I never asked to be one."
"That's not what I meant." She glanced at him. "Most people fight to prove themselves. You fight like you already know what you are."
Kael was quiet for a moment. Then: "I fight because I can't afford not to."
Lira studied him.
"You know," she said, "I looked into your family crest again. The one on that pendant."
Kael turned toward her, surprised.
"I had to go deep. Through old war archives. It's been completely wiped from public records—blacklisted by the UGA two decades ago."
"What did you find?"
She pulled out a data chip and slid it into the tablet. A single image loaded—a war-torn battlefield. Soldiers in black and silver armor. A crest just barely visible on one of the banners: three crescents around a vertical blade.
House Vire. Status: Purged. Cause: High-Risk Genetic Instability.
"They didn't just blacklist your bloodline," she said softly. "They erased it."
Kael stared at the image.
His chest tightened.
"Why?" he asked.
Lira hesitated. "Because you were too dangerous. According to this, your family had a genetic trait that made them grow stronger during battle. The more conflict, the faster they evolved."
Kael's fists clenched.
"I'm the last one," he murmured.
Lira looked down. "Maybe not. But you're the only one they couldn't track. Until now."
He nodded once, slowly. "Then I'll give them a reason to regret leaving me alive."
In the shadows beyond the barracks, a stealth drone silently powered down after recording the entire conversation. Its encrypted signal blinked red.
Subject Vire Confirmed. Dorm: 13-Z. Status: Active. Ability Signature: Unclassified.Forwarding to: REGIS BLACK INDEX – Clearance Level Omega
A response came immediately.
Observe. Do not engage. If his evolution continues… initiate Containment Protocol 5.