Maybe not for long. Because apparently, there was torture, and then there was Luca. And they should've all known the difference.
But they didn't.
So when the time for the division exams arrived, the greatest miracle wasn't that Ollie didn't faint out of sheer panic.
No.
It was the fact that he was still standing with all limbs intact.
Barely.
Because the last 27 space hours had been a fever dream of academic suffering no soul should ever endure.
It started when Luca, in his most serious of serious faces, declared that they would now inscribe the core concepts of the Empire's legal, political, and social histories into their spiritual pathways for optimal recall.
He said it so plainly, you almost wouldn't think it'd be difficult.
But Ollie knew better.
And before anyone could run, D-29 had laid out projections that practically covered the entire room, with the expectation that everyone would always find something to memorize.
