Chapter 10
2096 Words
The next morning the academy looked different.
Maybe it was the way the sunlight caught the tower windows, or maybe it was me. People stepped aside when I walked through the courtyard. Some nodded with forced politeness; others stared like they’d seen a ghost.
Word travelled faster than the drones.
“Figures,” I muttered. “Barely one day and I’m already a conspiracy theory.”
At breakfast, Leo waved me over to an empty table. He looked both impressed and terrified.
“Half the school thinks you destroyed the evaluation drones by looking at them,” he whispered.
“They’re exaggerating,” I said, stabbing a piece of toast. “I only looked at one.”
He blinked. “You’re joking, right?”
“Probably.”
Across the hall, groups of students whispered. I caught fragments: ‘Linsey’s new weapon’—‘he cursed the Council’—‘that’s how he got promoted.’
Let them talk. Fear was useful.
A shadow fell across our table. I glanced up. Three upper-division students stood there, badges gleaming gold. The one in front, a tall girl with crimson hair, smiled without warmth.
“So you’re the transfer who blew up the Council drones,” she said. “I’m Aria Vale.”
The surname made me pause. “Instructor Vale’s daughter?”
She tilted her head. “Smart boy. He asked me to keep an eye on you.”
“That’s sweet of him,” I said. “Should I be flattered or worried?”
“Both.” She leaned closer, voice soft enough that only I heard. “My father doesn’t trust people he can’t read. If you cause trouble, I’ll be the one cleaning it up.”
Her rank glowed on her wrist: #412. Impressive. Dangerous.
“Noted,” I replied. “I’ll try not to make a mess.”
She studied me a moment longer, then smiled again and walked off, her entourage following. Leo exhaled loudly.
“Dude, she’s one of the top five in the Combat Division. Don’t mess with her.”
“I didn’t,” I said. “She came to mess with me.”
---
Classes started an hour later. The Advanced Division lecture hall looked more like a command centre than a classroom: holographic maps, energy readouts, and a dozen instructors moving between rows of desks.
The topic of the day—Ranking Dynamics and Political Influence.
Fitting.
Professor Ilen, a thin man with too many medals, began the lecture. “Every ranker contributes to the world hierarchy. The higher your rank, the greater your authority. Control resources, shape laws, even decide who lives comfortably and who starves. Remember: ranking is power made visible.”
He turned his cold eyes toward me. “Mr Palmer, since you joined us recently, perhaps you can tell the class what determines an individual’s overall rank.”
Every head turned. Perfect.
I met his gaze. “Seven categories: wealth, physique, charm, intellect, skill, combat power, and mana. Combine them and you get the overall rank.”
“Correct,” he said, pacing. “And which do you believe matters most?”
I smiled faintly. “The one no one expects you to use.”
A few students laughed; others frowned, unsure whether it was arrogance or strategy. Professor Ilen gave a slow nod. “An interesting answer. Let’s see if your results will match your mouth.”
---
After class I headed toward the courtyard. The air was sharp with ozone—training fields in use nearby. I’d barely taken three steps when someone blocked my path. Rylan, the fire-sword guy from orientation.
“Palmer.” He folded his arms. “The Council likes you. Must be nice having sponsors.”
“Nice?” I raised an eyebrow. “Try exhausting.”
He scowled. “Don’t play innocent. People like you always climb over everyone else.”
I considered cursing him then and there, just to prove his point, but instead I said, “If you think I’m in your way, step around me. Otherwise you’ll trip.”
His jaw tightened. For a second I saw the fire flicker in his pupils. Then he turned and stalked off.
I sighed. “Great. I haven’t even unpacked my books and I already have a rival.”
---
Evening settled over the academy in golden light. I walked the perimeter paths, memorising guard routes and energy barriers. The more I saw, the clearer it became: this place wasn’t a school. It was a fortress disguised as one.
At the central fountain, I found Mira—the healer from orientation—sitting with her feet in the water, humming softly. She looked up and smiled.
“Rough day?”
“Something like that,” I said, taking a seat nearby.
“You know, not everyone here is against you,” she said quietly. “Some of us just want to survive too.”
I studied her expression. Genuine, maybe too genuine. “Survive what?”
“The expectations,” she replied. “The ranking system doesn’t just measure us—it eats us. People start treating numbers like souls.”
Her words hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I saw the tired honesty in her eyes—the same kind of exhaustion I’d carried my whole life.
“Guess I’m not the only one the system’s watching,” I said.
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
A bell tolled in the distance. Students began returning to the dorms. I stood, brushing dust from my jacket.
“Thanks for the talk, Mira.”
She smiled. “Try not to make more enemies before sunrise.”
“No promises.”
---
Back in my room, I opened the curtains. The city lights beyond the academy wall blinked like distant stars. My hand still bore the faint glow of Linsey’s contract.
Today had proven one thing: this academy wasn’t just teaching rankers—it was sorting them like weapons in an armory.
And I had no intention of being stored on a shelf.
I smirked. “Thirty days, huh? Guess they want a show.”
The mark pulsed in reply, and the room lights flickered. Somewhere deep inside the academy, machinery hummed—a heartbeat that wasn’t human.
Tomorrow, the real games would begin.
Chapter 11: The Dean’s Interest
The following morning, I’d barely made it halfway through breakfast before my wrist-band lit up.
So the Headmaster wanted a chat. Never a good sign when the most powerful man in the academy calls you before class.
Leo nearly choked on his food. “The Headmaster? What did you do this time?”
“Apparently I existed,” I said, finishing my coffee. “Wish me luck—or don’t.”
He gave me a look halfway between awe and sympathy. “Just don’t make him angry. People who do usually disappear.”
“Encouraging,” I muttered, grabbing my jacket.
---
The elevator up the Central Spire was glass on all sides. The city stretched below like a model: training grounds, dorm blocks, defensive turrets disguised as statues. From up here, the academy looked peaceful—like a lie carved out of steel.
The doors opened into a wide corridor of black marble. Two sentries in ceremonial armor stood guard outside Drayke’s office. Their ranks flashed in the hundreds. Top tier.
One of them scanned my ID band, then nodded. “Enter. The Headmaster is expecting you.”
Inside, the office felt less like a room and more like a throne chamber. Bookshelves lined the walls; holographic maps floated mid-air, showing data streams I couldn’t decipher. At the far end stood Drayke, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the horizon.
He didn’t turn around when he spoke. “Mr Palmer. You’ve caused quite a stir.”
I stopped two meters behind him. “Wasn’t aware attending class was a crime.”
A faint chuckle. “Deflection. You remind me of your sponsor.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“Perhaps not.” He finally turned. The silver in his hair glowed under the light, and his eyes—cold grey—studied me like I was an equation. “You handled yourself well during the evaluation. Better than expected.”
“I survived,” I said.
“Survival is often the best test of strength.” He gestured toward a chair. “Sit.”
I did. He poured two glasses of a dark liquid that smelled faintly metallic. “Do you know why I run this academy?”
I shrugged. “To train rankers.”
“That’s what they tell the public.” He handed me the glass. “In truth, I’m searching.”
“For what?”
He smiled slightly. “Patterns. Every ranking fluctuation, every ability awakening, every unexplained surge—each is a clue. Something—or someone—is altering the system.”
My pulse quickened. I kept my expression neutral. “And you think I’m one of those anomalies.”
“I know you are.” His tone carried no doubt. “The Council’s instruments couldn’t read you. Your energy signature doesn’t match any recorded category.”
Drayke’s eyes narrowed as his scan failed. “Interesting. Even the seal blocks me. Linsey’s work?”
“Ask her,” I said.
He chuckled quietly. “I did. She told me you were a walking paradox. I find paradoxes useful… and dangerous.”
He paced around me slowly. “Do you believe in destiny, Mr Palmer?”
“I believe in statistics.”
“Good. Destiny is simply probability with better marketing.” He stopped behind me. “Tell me—if you had the chance to change how the system works, would you?”
I looked over my shoulder. “Depends on the price.”
“There’s always a price.” He moved back to his desk. “I’m offering you something simple. Cooperation. You continue your studies here, you help me gather data on your ability, and in return, I ensure your protection.”
“Protection from what?”
“From everyone else who wants to dissect you.” He smiled thinly. “You’re not the only one Linsey’s interested in.”
The word dissect lingered too long in the air.
I breathed out slowly. “And if I refuse?”
“Then you’ll still be a student,” he said. “But I can’t promise accidents won’t happen. The academy is… unpredictable.”
A polite threat. I could almost respect that.
He tapped a console; a file appeared on the table’s display—my name, rank, and a list of data points ending in Fragment Possibility: 87 %.
My stomach tightened. “You keep files like this on every student?”
“Only the interesting ones.”
He pushed the file toward me. “Read it, if you wish. You might learn more about yourself than your system ever told you.”
The document flickered with encrypted lines, unreadable to the naked eye. I didn’t touch it.
“Permission to speak freely?” I asked.
“Granted.”
“You’re playing with something you don’t understand.”
He smiled again. “That’s what discovery is.”
---
When I left the office, the hallway felt colder. The guards didn’t meet my eyes. The elevator ride down was silent except for the steady thrum of the machinery.
Halfway down, my wrist-band vibrated.
> “Do not trust Drayke. He’s collecting fragments to rebuild the Core. Linsey knows. Stay quiet.”
I stared at the text until it vanished. The sender ID was scrambled, but I had a feeling it wasn’t random.
By the time I stepped out into the courtyard, clouds had gathered over the spire. Lightning flashed far above the towers, silent but sharp.
Leo waved from across the square. “Hey! How’d it go?”
I gave him a thin smile. “He likes me.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Not for me,” I said. “But definitely for him.”
---
Back in my dorm room, I threw myself onto the chair and stared at the city lights outside. The system pulsed again.
“Sub-level 3,” I repeated. “Guess we’re going underground now.”
The mark on my hand glowed faintly crimson, reflecting in the window like a second heartbeat. The academy’s towers loomed above the skyline—beautiful, dangerous, alive.
And somewhere in the shadows beneath them, the real academy waited.
- Writer
