The meeting between Eleanor Hart, the pragmatic idealist, and Dr. Victor Zhao, the cynical realist, was a confrontation between two distinct philosophies for Grimstone's survival. It took place in Eleanor's office, a space designed for clarity and function, yet today, it was charged with the static tension of immense, calculated risk.
Eleanor opened the meeting with professional finality, her hands resting on the printout of Kai's controversial dossier. "Victor," she began, her voice calm but firm, "the dossier is complete. His theoretical scores are perfect. Your diagnostic data confirms a stable, repeatable, if unconventional, energy flow during the field test. We are proceeding with the admission and the Apex Suit Initiative."
Zhao, meticulously dressed and utterly unmoving, regarded her with a look of withering professional skepticism. "The data confirmed efficiency, Eleanor, not stability," he corrected, his voice precise and cold. "My analysis shows a 47% chance of catastrophic system failure during high-stress output. You are using the word 'unconventional' to disguise 'uncontrolled.' He is not a prodigy; he is a liability, a walking time bomb. You are gambling the entire academy's limited future on one volatile low-born."
His words carried the weight of experience—a genuine, deep-seated fear rooted in his own catastrophic failure years ago at the elite Leading Star Academy. He wasn't malicious; he was terrified of repetition.
"And what is the alternative, Victor?" Eleanor countered, her passion rising, but remaining controlled. "A slow, dignified extinction at the hands of the Council? They have suffocated us with rules, compliance, and fear. They have choked off our funding, eliminated our research lines, and confined us to the fifteenth rank precisely because we dared to suggest that talent is not solely tied to lineage. We must fight back with the chaos they fear. If his method is unstable, then we will build a suit that contains it. That is the point of the project. We use his genius to solve his instability, and in doing so, we solve our own existential crisis."
Zhao rose from his chair, walking to the holographic display that showed a highly simplified, sanitized version of Kai's Divergent Flow signature. "You romanticize rebellion, Eleanor. I remember the cost of failure. It isn't just a political setback; it's a structural collapse that costs lives and careers. He will replicate my disaster, only on a larger, public scale. He lacks the fundamental mathematical grounding to truly contain that flow. His control is sheer willpower, not physics. Willpower fails under sufficient pressure."
Eleanor looked at him with genuine, deep empathy. She knew Zhao's history—the brilliant theory that was rejected by the elite consensus, leading to his spectacular fall from grace. "Your failure was not in your genius, Victor," she said softly, but pointedly, "it was in your reliance on a system that abandoned you when you needed support. The Council protects conformity, not innovation. This young man comes from a system that abandoned him from birth. He has survived chaos; he is built for it. We give him the resources to stabilize what he has already forged."
She circled the issue, forcing him to confront the moral imperative. "The Council's greatest defense is not their weaponry, but their rigid predictability. The Apex Suit cannot be predictable. It must be an outlier. To contain pure chaos, we must have someone who understands chaos. You and I, Victor, we are the failed perfectionists. Kai is the successful chaos. We need him."
Zhao stood for a long moment, the emotional wound of his past visible in the tightening around his eyes. He realized Eleanor wasn't recruiting Kai because of his scores or even his genius; she was recruiting him to prove her core belief: that the excluded possess the knowledge and the sheer audacity required to dismantle the oppressive establishment. This was a moral crusade disguised as an engineering project.
"Very well," Zhao conceded, the words heavy with reluctance. He knew he couldn't win the ideological battle, but he could impose safety. "You may admit him. But I insist on absolute control over his lab's safety protocols and an early, high-pressure assessment of his practical skills before he touches any active systems."
He leaned in, his voice dropping. "My condition is this: I need to know the depth of his street knowledge—his understanding of physical materials, tactical planning, and the limitations of his self-taught method. This assessment must be discreet and not tied to Grimstone, just like the first one. I need to be certain he is not just a volatile theorist, but a capable mechanic. If he fails this practical audit, the project is terminated."
Eleanor smiled—a tired, triumphant expression. She had secured his compliance and his expertise, even if it came cloaked in cynicism. "Agreed, Victor. Test his street-knowledge. Use your most unconventional methods. Just don't break him before he starts."
Zhao nodded curtly, already turning back to his terminal to initiate the final safety waivers. "I am the safety net, Eleanor. I will ensure that if he explodes, he does not take the entire Fifteenth Rank with him."
The uneasy alliance was formed: the idealistic visionary, the cautious realist, and the chaotic prodigy. The stage was set for Kai's formal recruitment, but first, Zhao had to be sure the boy's talent wasn't just theoretical flash. He had to audit the foundation of Kai's low-born genius