01-02-2345, Celestial Era – 19:34
Timer Countdown: T+05:00
The classroom was finally empty — except for Asterius, standing at the instructor's desk, and Revan, who sat slouched in the front row, his expression flat and exhausted.
"With the other students returning to their dorms, that leaves just us," Asterius said firmly, his tone carrying that calm authority unique to him. "Still, I must emphasize — you being the victim of bullying complicates this investigation. It puts the Academy in an unpleasant position."
Revan exhaled and looked up, his tone deadpan. "Fine, I get that you're forcing me into this. But seriously — do conversations between humans and genetically engineered people always take this long?"
The founder of the Astral Foundation gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean 'long'? Every word I speak carries meaning, precision, and perfect intonation so that my interlocutor can truly grasp the depth of my message."
Revan shrugged. "Yeah, I get your concept — but you talk in paragraphs. Normal humans get it after one sentence."
"All genetically perfected beings must express the deepest layer of meaning," Asterius said with conviction. "One sentence cannot hold that depth. Try proving me wrong — give me an example, now."
Revan sighed, clearly unamused, just as the classroom door slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss. A figure stepped in, pressing the control panel beside the door.
Instantly, the lights along the ceiling and walls illuminated the pristine white room, revealing the elegant paintings that decorated every surface. The red-carpeted floor contrasted beautifully with the rows of gleaming white desks — twenty-two in total, each built to accommodate three students.
The girl who entered — Kiana Lintirus — still wore her white academy uniform, her silver-gray hair slightly disheveled. Tears streaked faintly across her cheeks as she spoke, voice trembling with irritation.
"Revan Corvus, what exactly are you plotting to ruin me even more? Do you have any idea what I'm feeling after being cheated on by Charlos? All men are the same — rotten!"
"So that's what it was," Asterius said calmly, lowering his gaze slightly. "I see now why he said we talk too much — you cannot control your emotions under pressure. Miss Kiana, sit down and collect yourself. We're in the middle of an important, confidential discussion."
Kiana sniffed, visibly struggling to keep her composure, but obeyed. She walked toward the front row, sitting beside Revan with her head lowered.
Asterius's tone sharpened again. "Revan Corvus, you realize you've committed a serious breach — constructing an Astral Gear without consultation from the Foundation's founders, myself included."
"I read the rulebook," Revan replied plainly. "It doesn't say anything against building one from scrap."
"The issue," Asterius countered, "is not that you built it — but that you flew it. That alone qualifies as a portfolio entry worthy of a Master Mechanic rank. Considering applications close at age twenty-one, this is your last opportunity."
Revan looked up with genuine confusion. "Wait, why me?"
"There's an open quota for next season's league," Asterius explained. "And your growing fanbase among Astral Gear enthusiasts makes you an ideal candidate for public relations. It's good propaganda for the International Astral Gear Federation."
Revan blinked once, unimpressed. "That explains everything."
The room fell silent again — until footsteps echoed from the corridor. The door opened once more, revealing Steiner, his expression carved from stone.
"My granddaughter's in a terrible state," he said sternly. "She was humiliated in some ridiculous act of so-called youthful fun — a prank, you called it? What is the meaning of this?"
Asterius met his gaze evenly. "We're conducting a briefing for the upcoming competitive season."
Steiner halted mid-stride, his face tightening. "You're aware of the delicate situation we're in — the honor of my military dynasty, the legacy I've built through perfected genetics—"
Asterius cut him off calmly. "No, this isn't about legacy. It's about efficiency — energy efficiency, to be exact. The boy here, Revan, made an interesting point: we talk too much. Perhaps he's right. Conserving verbal energy could increase cognitive focus."
Steiner frowned deeply, his gaze flicking from Asterius to the boy sitting quietly before him."He complained that we talk too much?" he said in disbelief. "Our communication is deliberate, structured. We use precise instruction sets because the genetically enhanced mind requires complexity to function. Simple commands confuse them — that's how our code is written."
Asterius arched an eyebrow. "You don't realize, do you? He's not one of your 'creations.' The boy has no bionic organs."
The elder's steps grew heavy as he approached Revan. Without warning, Steiner reached down and pinched the boy's ear sharply, pulling it upward until it turned red.
"Ow— stop that! It hurts!" Revan protested, wincing.
Steiner froze, his eyes widening. "Pain… He feels pain! He's human — a pure human!"
He released Revan immediately, turning toward Asterius with an expression of shock and awe."Do you understand what this means? His neurons respond naturally to stimulus — the kind of raw feedback loop we lost generations ago. The modified ones, the clones, their pain receptors were severed at the genetic level before birth. But this one— this one still reacts!"
"I already told you," Asterius replied dryly, crossing his arms. "I confirmed his biological readings myself."
"Then he shouldn't even be here," Steiner said, his tone rising. "He should have been transferred to the Surface for a standard education track. This level of curriculum is far too advanced for baseline humans. No wonder he's been bullied — he's competing in an environment built for perfection."
Asterius tilted his head slightly, pulling a digital tablet from the desk. His fingers flicked across its surface before turning the screen toward Steiner."On the contrary," he said. "He's actually performing rather well. Master-Class Mechanic certification, Beginner Pilot license. Dual qualifications under the age of eighteen. That's quite remarkable — though his last exam score was... thirty-nine point five."
Steiner blinked. "Thirty-nine point five? That's above the top percentile. My granddaughter's highest was thirty-one."
"I'm not exaggerating," Asterius said. "Kiana ranked forty-fourth, while he placed within the top ten two weeks ago. Considering there are only a hundred students this term, that's exceptional."
Kiana slammed her hands against her desk, eyes wide with disbelief. "That's impossible! This academy only admits the elite of the elite! I studied day and night just to get thirty-one!"
"I'm afraid the records are clear," Asterius replied calmly. "No evidence of cheating, no plagiarism flags, no data manipulation. He solved the problems correctly on his own."
Kiana clenched her fists, her face flushed red. "Then — for the sake of my honor as a model student, I demand a rematch! A new exam, under your personal supervision, Lord Asterius — so that I may restore my dignity!"
Revan sighed heavily, resting his cheek against his palm. Kiana smirked, mistaking his silence for fear.
"So you admit it, then," she said sweetly. "You cheated. Just confess now — maybe you'll even earn forgiveness for once."
Revan didn't even look at her. "That exam was nothing compared to calibrating an Astral Gear's console," he muttered flatly.
"Then I hope you're ready to cry when you lose," Kiana shot back, forcing a confident smile.
Before anyone could respond, the door slid open once again. A group of uniformed officials stepped in, their expressions unreadable."Lord Asterius, Lord Steiner," one of them said briskly, "we need your assistance in a matter of great importance."
Steiner held up a hand. "Not yet. You made a serious mistake sending this human boy here. We're about to conduct an intelligence comparison — human cognition versus genetic perfection. I'll oversee it personally."
The official hesitated. "Is this… truly necessary?"
"Absolutely," Steiner replied, his voice sharp. "This human, Revan Corvus, scored thirty-nine point five. My granddaughter scored thirty-one. Let's discuss your urgent matter while observing this test. Consider it an experiment."
The room fell silent. Asterius gave a slow, measured nod. "Very well," he said. "Let's see just how far a human mind can go against the perfected ones."