The scream lasted less than three seconds.
That was long enough.
Silence followed—heavy, absolute, and far more terrifying than the sound itself.
Lucien stood among the other candidates, his posture unchanged, his expression carefully blank. Only his eyes moved, tracking what remained at the center of the evaluation hall.
What remained of Renn Calder.
Moments ago, Renn had been alive. Nervous. Sweating through his uniform as he argued with the Overseer, insisting that the fluctuation in his results was a mistake.
Now, the Monolith's light had faded, and Renn was kneeling on the stone floor, hands clawing weakly at nothing, his System interface shattered into fragments of red text.
[System Violation Confirmed.]
[Unauthorized Rank Instability.]
[Correction Protocol Initiated.]
The words hovered above him like a sentence already carried out.
"No—please—!" Renn's voice cracked as he looked around desperately. "I didn't do anything! I swear I didn't—"
He never finished the sentence.
A thin lattice of silver light snapped into place around his body, generated by the Academy's enforcement array. It didn't burn. It didn't crush.
It erased.
Renn's scream cut off abruptly as the lattice contracted, folding him inward like a collapsing shadow. In less than a breath, he was gone.
No blood.
No remains.
Just an empty space on the stone floor where a person had existed moments earlier.
And then—
[Correction Complete.]
The System confirmed it calmly.
Lucien felt his stomach tighten.
So this was correction.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Even the Overseers didn't react. To them, it had been procedure—no different from adjusting a ledger or terminating a faulty process.
The lead Overseer turned back toward the remaining candidates.
"Let that serve as clarification," he said evenly. "The System does not malfunction."
His gaze swept across the hall.
"People do."
Lucien forced himself to breathe.
Slow. Controlled.
Remember this, he told himself. This is what failure looks like.
The evaluation continued.
As if nothing had happened.
Another candidate was called forward. Another hand placed on the Monolith. Another blue window appeared.
Life moved on.
Lucien felt something cold settle in his chest.
The System didn't care about intent. Or fear. Or excuses.
Only compliance.
[Shadow System Notice:]
[Observation: Correction Protocol parameters updated.]
Lucien almost flinched.
The Shadow System had been quiet since his evaluation—alert, but restrained. Now it was reacting again.
[Analysis: Direct exposure to Authority-triggered correction confirmed.]
[Risk Assessment: High.]
Lucien lowered his gaze slightly, careful not to draw attention.
You're learning too, he realized. Just like I am.
When the evaluation finally ended, the candidates were herded into formation. The hall felt smaller now, the air heavier with unspoken fear.
The Overseer stepped forward once more.
"You have witnessed the consequences of deviation," he said. "Carry that lesson into your Academy lives."
His eyes paused—briefly—on Lucien.
Not long enough to be obvious.
Long enough to be deliberate.
"From this point forward," the Overseer continued, "you are under continuous observation. Your actions, growth, and System interactions will be recorded."
A faint glow spread across the candidates' vision.
[Academy Enrollment Confirmed.]
[Monitoring Status: Active.]
Lucien's jaw tightened.
So it begins.
They were dismissed in groups.
Lucien walked through the corridors of the Academy with measured steps, absorbing everything. The architecture was brutal in its efficiency—wide halls, clean lines, surveillance nodes embedded seamlessly into walls and ceilings.
No wasted space.
No blind spots.
Other candidates whispered as they walked.
"That guy—Renn—he was Rank D, wasn't he?"
"I heard his numbers spiked mid-scan."
"Do you think he tried to cheat?"
Lucien said nothing.
He didn't need speculation.
He had seen the truth.
That night, Lucien lay on his assigned bed in the low-rank dormitory, staring at the ceiling. The room was shared with three others, all silent, all pretending sleep would come.
It didn't.
Lucien focused inward.
"Show me everything you recorded," he whispered internally.
The Shadow System responded immediately.
[Shadow System Interface — Partial Access Granted.]
Dark text unfolded—not hovering before his eyes, but inside his awareness.
[Event Logged: Correction Protocol Execution.]
[Subject: Renn Calder.]
[Violation Trigger: Rank Instability beyond permitted variance.]
[Correction Method: Existence Removal.]
Lucien's throat tightened.
Existence removal.
Not execution.
Not death.
Removal.
[Conclusion:]
[The Academy enforces System integrity through irreversible correction.]
Lucien exhaled slowly.
"So if I'm detected," he thought, "that's it."
No trial.
No resistance.
Just deletion.
[Shadow System Response:]
[Affirmative.]
Lucien closed his eyes.
For the first time since the evaluation, fear crept in.
Not panic.
Not dread.
Something sharper.
Urgency.
The Shadow System continued.
[New Function Available: Threat Simulation (Restricted).]
[Reason: Exposure to Authority-level correction.]
Lucien's eyes snapped open.
"A new function?" he thought.
[Clarification:]
[Shadow System adapts through observation.]
Lucien stared at the dark ceiling.
The Primary System punished anomalies.
The Shadow System learned from them.
That difference mattered.
"How restricted?" Lucien asked silently.
[Usage Limit: Passive only.]
[Active simulation under Authority observation increases detection probability.]
Lucien smiled faintly.
So even his advantage had rules.
Fair enough.
The next morning, training assignments were distributed.
Lucien scanned his allocation.
[Assigned Division: General Track — Low Rank.]
Expected.
But beneath it—
A second line flickered briefly.
Black text.
[Addendum: Candidate Lucien Vale flagged for variance monitoring.]
Gone as quickly as it appeared.
Lucien's fingers tightened around the tablet.
They're watching me closely now.
Good.
If the Academy was going to observe him…
Then he would give them something worth misinterpreting.
As Lucien walked toward the training grounds, he passed the spot in the hall where Renn Calder had been erased.
The stone floor was spotless.
No mark.
No memorial.
Nothing to prove Renn had ever existed.
Lucien stopped for half a second.
Then he stepped forward.
I won't disappear like that, he vowed silently.
Not as a correction.
Not as an error.
If the System wanted to decide his worth—
Then he would become the kind of anomaly it couldn't erase easily.
And the Shadow System, quiet and watchful, seemed to agree.
[Survival Strategy Updated.]
[Priority: Remain Unremarkable.]
[Secondary Priority: Accumulate Irreversible Advantage.]
Lucien's lips curved into a thin, controlled smile.
Unremarkable.
For now.