Scene 1
The academy did not announce rankings.
It did not need to.
By the next morning, everyone knew where everyone stood.
Maxwell felt it the moment he stepped out of his dorm. Conversations slowed. Eyes tracked him, then slid away. Some students nodded with new respect. Others looked irritated, like something unfair had occurred without their permission.
Rachel noticed first.
"They are recalculating," she said as they walked.
"They always do," Maxwell replied.
Lucien stood near the main training board, surrounded by students. Not friends. Orbiters. His posture stayed relaxed, but his attention remained sharp. He watched Maxwell approach without turning his head.
Professor Hale's assessment results flashed onto the board.
Not ranks. Categories.
Combat efficiency.
Control under stress.
Adaptation speed.
Lucien's name appeared high. Expected.
Maxwell's appeared beside his.
Lower output. Higher adaptation.
A murmur spread.
Lucien finally turned. His eyes narrowed. Not angry. Focused.
So that is the game now.
Training block began immediately. Mixed drills. No pairings announced.
Maxwell entered the arena with five others. Fire. Air. Earth. Light. Lucien stood among them.
No coincidence.
The barrier rose.
"Begin," the instructor said.
Chaos erupted.
Fire surged. Air blades sliced. Earth spikes erupted from the floor. Light condensed into searing arcs.
Maxwell moved.
He did not rush. He did not retreat. He slipped between forces with precise footwork. His appraisal skin burned faintly as data layered over reality. Angles. Timings. Overextension.
Lucien noticed.
A fire wave cut across the arena. Maxwell ducked, rolled, and stepped inside the heat gap. He tapped the ground, triggering a copied earth shift he had observed seconds earlier. Not strong. Accurate.
The move disrupted two students at once.
Lucien adjusted instantly. Fire condensed tighter. Less spread. More pressure.
Good.
Maxwell smiled faintly.
The drill ended without a victor.
The instructor frowned. "You avoided engagement."
Maxwell met his gaze. "I avoided waste."
Lucien spoke before the instructor replied.
"He is conserving," Lucien said. "For what, I wonder."
Maxwell answered without looking at him. "For moments that matter."
The instructor dismissed them.
Outside the arena, tension followed like a shadow.
Rachel caught Maxwell's arm. "You're becoming a problem."
"I was already one," he said.
She smiled. "Now they admit it."
From the upper balcony, Maria watched. She said nothing. Her fingers tightened around the rail.
The academy had shifted again.
Not toward conflict.
Toward selection.
Scene 2
Selection happened quietly.
No announcement. No ceremony.
Maxwell learned when his academy ID chimed during lunch.
PRIORITY TRACK ASSIGNMENT
Attendance mandatory.
Rachel leaned over his shoulder. "That's not normal."
"No," Maxwell said. "It's deliberate."
Tobias frowned. "Priority tracks isolate people."
"They expose them," Rachel added.
Maxwell stood. "Then I should not be late."
The briefing room sat beneath the main spire. Smaller. Reinforced. Suppression fields hummed faintly through the walls. Five students waited inside when Maxwell entered.
Lucien was already there.
So were three others Maxwell recognized. Strong. Confident. Competitive. None friendly. None hostile. Yet.
Dr Timothy stood at the center.
"This track exists to identify assets," he said. "Not heroes."
His gaze moved across the room.
"You will train together. You will be evaluated constantly. Your failures will be recorded."
Lucien smiled slightly.
"Your success," Dr Timothy continued, "will create consequences."
Eyes turned to Maxwell.
Lucien spoke. "Is unclassified ability acceptable here?"
Dr Timothy did not look at him. "Adaptation qualifies."
Lucien's smile faded.
The first exercise began immediately. No warm up. No explanation.
A simulation chamber activated. Urban terrain. Collapsing structures. Civilian markers.
"Objective," Dr Timothy said. "Extraction. Limited mana. No fatalities."
The scenario started.
Lucien moved first. Fire cleared paths fast. Efficient. Loud.
Others followed.
Maxwell stayed back. He watched the environment. Read stress points. Calculated collapse vectors. He moved civilians before danger appeared. Quiet. Precise.
Lucien noticed late.
A building collapsed behind him. Maxwell had already redirected the fall. Lucien stared at the altered terrain.
"You planned for that," Lucien said.
"I planned around you," Maxwell replied.
The simulation ended.
Results displayed.
Extraction success.
Civilian survival.
Structural damage.
Maxwell ranked lowest in output.
Highest in outcome efficiency.
Silence filled the room.
Dr Timothy shut down the display. "You are dismissed."
As they filed out, Lucien stopped beside Maxwell.
"You fight like someone who expects the system to turn on him," Lucien said.
Maxwell met his eyes. "Because it always does."
Lucien nodded once. No smile this time.
Outside, Rachel waited.
"You were pulled into a pressure chamber," she said.
"Yes."
She searched his face. "And?"
"And they are deciding who breaks first."
Rachel's expression hardened. "Then don't."
Maxwell looked back toward the spire. Toward the rooms where decisions were made.
"I won't," he said.
But the academy had already started testing that promise.