In front of the dormitory gates, the damp, cold air bit deep into the cadets' bones. The lobby doors stood agape, welcoming them like a hungry maw. Ahead, Varkas's footsteps shattered the silence. "Pick up the pace, you filth!" He played his role as a bastard to perfection, intentionally cracking his whip against the scarred concrete floor.
CRACK!!
Each strike of Varkas's whip shrieked, carrying a drowned grudge that echoed sharply in the cadets' ears. Meyra bit down on his new shoelaces, his face flushing—a look that explained the sensation of that object was a feeling, not just a sight.
"Come on, trash! Don't miss out on the fun. Do you want to feel the warmth of my newly modified X-Ray Tail?" he shouted enthusiastically, his voice screeching higher and fouler than the whip's crack.
Like a line of poultry, they crouched and crawled, carrying their uniforms and shoes hanging from their mouths—a "reward," according to PETERUMMAN, but in reality, it was nothing more than a neatly packaged humiliation.
Nugia allowed thousands of 'ants' to feast on his skin—a stinging ritual he chose to ignore. For him, the clamor of sweat and the concrete floor was merely background noise, powerless to swallow the thumping of his own heart.
"Halt!" Varkas roared, and the dormitory returned to its true face. "Get in! Line up according to your units!" Varkas snapped his electric whip. "Use your knees!" Jean could only sigh, watching Varkas's antics as he repeatedly tried to provoke him.
At the back of the line, Nugia kept his head down. The shadows of the three legendary figures that had briefly overlapped in Jean's eyes now held no value. Here, under Varkas's lash, Nugia was nothing but a slab of meat forced to chew on his own pride through dirty shoe soles.
Just as their knees met the scorching concrete at the dormitory threshold, the CRACK! of Varkas's whip stopped abruptly.
The world seemed to freeze. Not because Varkas felt pity, but because an anomaly had just collapsed at his feet. Wawa, Subject 033.
"Who told you to fall?" Varkas growled, his cyborg eye locking on with a predatory gaze.
"Please, don't whip me!" the boy whimpered softly without letting go of his bite; that tiny voice was gentler than a girl's.
"Who gave you permission to speak?" Varkas barked, his hand moving slowly to grip his whip. "What is wrong with your voice?"
Wawa covered his mouth. His combat uniform, tactical helmet, and wrist-mounted mana detector lay scattered on the floor.
SLASH!
The X-Ray Tail cut through the air, striking him. An electric sting seared and lashed the boy's body. His frame tensed before he was sent flying, falling unconscious.
Instantly, all eyes turned to the scene. "Clear him from my sight before there's nothing left!" Varkas screamed.
No one dared to speak or resist; the event happened so fast, etched into their memories forever.
The Red Light Cycle.
In the hallway of Dormitory Block B, the rows of cadets—now officially soldiers—stood frozen, listening to Instructor Jean's briefing.
"Tomorrow, Cycle 04:00. You will undergo your qualification exams, receive your duty assignments, and learn how to obtain Ether for your future survival!" Jean explained. Meanwhile, Varkas took a call outside the dormitory.
"Any questions before tomorrow?" Jean's eyes swept across the line of cadets.
There was only a heavy, silent exhaustion. The previous events had forced them into muteness.
"Very well. If there are none, prepare yourselves for tomorrow. Get enough rest. Dismissed!" Their first command from Jean.
Instructor Jean watched the cadets' retreating backs with an unreadable expression.
Under the dim, flickering lights, Jep (011) from Unit 008 dragged Wawa's stiff body. His eyes glistened as he gripped Wawa's collar tightly, a silent testament to the emotions brewing within.
The heavy, dragging footsteps of the other units on the concrete created a haunting funeral rhythm, marking the end of a childhood that had died before it could ever bloom.
As the last row disappeared behind the steel dormitory doors, the clang of metal meeting magnetic locks echoed through the corridor—a signal that total isolation had begun. Here, silence was no longer the absence of sound, but a mental weight that crushed pride, forcing every soldier to face the monster within themselves under the oppressive glow of the red light.
Inside Room 09B, Unit 009 ignored the glowing green lights; they were too preoccupied with the tactical uniforms that looked like treasure to the two innocent boys. "Second Skin. Features temperature regulation, elastic and lightweight carbon nanofibers, harder than this concrete floor," Zilla remarked. "Dominator V1 helmet, equipped with thermal vision—can see even in total darkness and connects to drone feeds," Zilla added casually, as if the incident with Wawa was a common occurrence for them.
"Whoa, so cool! Amae, you're an expert at using those flying tools, right?" Nugia asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Amae as if he were his own brother.
"Y-you... r-right... exactly!" Amae stammered, sweat beginning to pour down. Meyra's eyes narrowed, watching them closely.
"If we connect the drone camera to this..." Nugia put on the Dominator V1 helmet. "Are we flying?" His voice was muffled inside the helmet. Meyra, Zilla, and Amae looked at one another. "Nugia, truly... our vision feels like it's flying, but we are not flying," Zilla countered softly. "Why not?" Nugia asked, tilting the helmet. They were all suppressed by the question hanging in the air.
Zilla took a long breath, staring at his own reflection in the visor of Nugia's black helmet. "Because our feet are still planted on the same concrete, Nugia," Zilla replied, his tone suddenly sounding older than his years. "This device only lends you the eyes of the sky, but your body still belongs to this earth." Silence crept back in, instantly swallowing the boy's enthusiasm. Nugia fell silent, his small hand feeling the cold texture of the nanofibers on his uniform. Behind the sophistication, they began to realize an unspoken truth: every piece of gear they wore was not a wing for escape, but a technological chain ensuring they remained efficient war slaves under the power of PETERUMMAN.
Suddenly, Nugia looked at each of them one by one. He saw Reyna trembling, staring at the tactical uniform with eyes Nugia couldn't understand. "Reyna, are you still hungry, or can you not wait to fly with this helmet?" Nugia's question pierced their ears as they realized the innocent girl was struggling against her fear.
"Reyna, listen to me! Calm down! We are here!" Zilla whispered, hugging Reyna and stroking her hair. Meyra gripped her hand. "Reyna, don't be afraid. I won't let a single flick touch you!" he said fiercely.
"Wawa (033)... was... my new friend... He, he, he hated this place!" Reyna whimpered. Nugia took off his helmet and approached her with Amae. The two boys looked at each other. "Turns out he wasn't mute, Amae...?" Nugia asked. "I... just realized it, Nugia... I was wrong," Amae said, still staring at Reyna in disbelief.
Meyra gripped his hand tightly, looking down as he held back something emerging from within—something invisible yet palpable: an aura. "Can you two be serious for once?" he snapped.
The cold aura radiating from Meyra's body slowly enveloped the cramped corner of Room 9B. Amae instantly realized their questions had landed at the wrong time. He pulled Nugia, who was still questioning Reyna. He tried to drag Nugia toward the bathroom, but it was too late—Meyra was already behind them. Amae resignedly pulled Nugia along, his face looking as though he were about to cry.