Arron was in the attic, packing a few keepsakes from home before leaving for the Academy of Pilots. He tucked a small photo of his foster family into his pocket, took a breath, and set off.
The Academy building loomed before him — massive, gleaming, and intimidating. But he didn't falter. He walked up to a teacher and introduced himself with quiet confidence.
"Greetings, teacher. The name's Bolt. Bolt Zleare. I'm the new student from Shikoto Milai."
The teacher froze for a moment, startled at how much the boy looked like Alex — those unmistakable green eyes.
"…You look a lot like Alex. I hope you have the same skills as him. This is a very strict academy," the teacher muttered, ushering him inside.
They entered the simulation room, where his new classmates and several instructors waited.
"Alright, class," the teacher announced. "We have a new recruit today — Bolt Zleare. Put on your suits and gather. We'll be flying through the asteroid belt."
The students eyed Bolt skeptically as they suited up. Whispers followed him:
"He doesn't even look like a real Zleare…"
"Who let this kid in?"
Bolt stayed silent, watching the so-called best cadet take the simulator first. The boy crashed into an asteroid at Level 12. Cheers erupted anyway — no one had gotten that far before.
"Novices," Bolt thought, his expression neutral.
When it was finally his turn, he noticed none of the students followed proper flight procedures — and the grumpy-looking instructor at the controls gave him a strange, familiar feeling he couldn't quite place.
"Commander, all engines ready. Controls are in," the instructor said.
Bolt slid into the cockpit and spoke evenly.
"No need to pilot it from there. I can handle it."
With that, he began. The simulator beeped and whirred as Bolt advanced through Level 20, then 25. The mock battles began; his hands moved like lightning on the controls. He cleared Level 29 — shattering the academy record — but on Level 30, the fighter overloaded. Despite his best efforts, it exploded in the simulation.
Bolt stepped out calmly, removing his helmet, and spoke to the instructor.
"Sir, with respect — don't control our jets for us. We'll never learn that way."
Then he turned to the best cadet, who was still watching him wide-eyed.
"You've still got a long way to go, like me, bro. Let's be friends — I'll show you some tricks that'll help. What's the next class? Can't wait."
The older cadet grinned, clapping Bolt on the shoulder.
"I'm Luke. Luke Greystone. The next class is chemistry."
They walked out together, Luke chatting about the asteroid belt and the academy. In the hallway, he glanced at Bolt's schedule, patted him on the back, and said with a smile:
"See you Monday, rookie. Don't fall behind."
Bolt watched him go, thinking:
"Cool, confident… tall, with that navy-blue hair and charisma. He's… kind of amazing. I can't wait to see him again."
He headed toward his classroom with the faintest smile on his lips.
Meanwhile, in his office, the instructor — Gean — slammed his fist into the wall.
"How did that loser end up with a family? Why is his son being raised by them… is Alex dead?!"
He sneered at the thought and muttered:
"Fine. I'll make that kid into the pilot I never could be. Alex… you were always ahead of me. Now your son will prove I was better. He doesn't even know who you were. Those green eyes… I'll never forget them."
Gean sat at his desk, staring at an old photograph. Five young cadets — himself, Alex, and three others — laughing after a training session.
The memory resurfaced — the day that photo was taken: Alex had set up the camera on a rock, called everyone together, and just as the timer clicked, the rock shifted. Alex slipped and fell backward off the edge of the cliff. Gean had caught his wrist at the last second, hanging halfway over himself, both of them laughing breathlessly.
"You idiot, you're gonna kill yourself one of these days!" Gean had barked then, but Alex just grinned up at him.
"Not if you're around to catch me, Gean."
In the office, Gean leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as the memory washed over him. His lips tightened into a faint, bitter smile.
"Not if I'm around to catch you, huh? Too bad, Alex… I let go."
And with that, he drifted into uneasy sleep, the photograph still in his hand.