The transition from the second to the third year wasn't just a change in grade; it was a total biological overhaul.
The shuttle ride to TOI-1452 b had been filled with the nervous chatter of students who knew their bodies were about to be pushed to the breaking point.
Professor Andrew stood on the floating observation deck of the Draco Resort, his gaze fixed on the crimson-tinted horizon.
Beside him, Professor Elena adjusted the settings on a medical crate labeled with high-clearance Federation seals.
"They've had their fun with the Beach Ribbon Ball," Elena noted, watching the students dry off. "But now the real work begins. The thermal cost is going to be high."
"They will learn," Andrew replied grimly. "The Type-2 and Type-3 Evolutionary Serums don't just expand the Ribbon; they forge it. It's like pouring molten steel into a glass bottle."
"If we weren't on an ocean world with a natural heat-sink capacity, half of them would suffer internal organ scorching within the hour."
The Question of Higher Grades
As the students gathered for the training briefing, the air was thick with humidity and anticipation.
Leo, shaking off the lingering tremors of his preliminary exercises, wiped sweat from his brow and looked at the professors.
"Professor," Leo started, his voice eager. "If Type-3 is what we use to kick off the third year, when do we get to move to Type-4? And I heard a rumor that Type-5 is the graduation requirement for the Primary School's final year."
A heavy silence followed. Elena didn't look up from her tablet, but her voice was cold.
"You are well-informed, Leo. Yes, the curriculum aims for Type-5 by the end of your Primary years. You will face Type-6 in Secondary Academy and the legendary Type-7 if you are elite enough to reach the Higher Academy."
She looked up, her gaze piercing. "But understand this: each jump is exponential. Type-5 involves a complete restructuring of the cellular marrow to support armor-grade density. Many do not make it."
Kaelen remained silent, his Secondary Computing processing the data.
Thanks to his "thick" threads and the Star-Silver stored in his core, he could feel that his body was actually craving the density of a Type-4 or 5 serum already.
To him, Type-3 felt like a warm drink, whereas for the others, it was a boiling flood.
The Training Surge
"Into the water! Full immersion!" Andrew commanded.
The students waded out until only their heads were above the turquoise waves.
On the signal, they administered the Type-3 serum via their neural links.
Immediately, the ocean around them began to hiss. The serum triggered a massive energy release.
Sora gritted her teeth, her green threads whipping through the water to vent heat.
Leo groaned, his golden energy turning the water around him into a bubbling cauldron.
Mina stayed composed, but the steam rising from her shoulders showed the intensity of the struggle.
Kaelen, however, felt a strange harmony.
As his internal temperature skyrocketed, his thick Ribbons acted like cooling pipes, transferring the heat directly into the Star-Silver "heatsink" in his abdomen.
[THERMAL OVERFLOW DETECTED,] Redveil hummed. [REDIRECTING HEAT TO SLOT 12: ENERGY ABSORPTION PACK. WE ARE CONVERTING THE SERUM'S WASTE HEAT INTO STORED KINETIC ENERGY.]
The Anchor in the Surf
The training intensified as the professors began firing kinetic pulses into the water, forcing the students to maintain their Ribbon shields while battling the serum's heat.
The sub-oceanic tremors of TOI-1452 b chose that moment to surge.
A sudden, massive swell caught the students off guard.
Mina, exhausted by the Type-3 heat, lost her footing as a three-meter wave crashed over the training area.
Her Silver Ribbons flickered out for a split second—a dangerous sign of core exhaustion.
Kaelen didn't think. Driven by the predictive vectors of Redveil, he used the Veyron Pulsar footing to close the gap in a blur of spray.
Mina fell—not into the churning ocean, but against Kaelen.
Her back pressed firmly against his chest, her wet hair splashing against his shoulders.
Kaelen stood like an obsidian statue; his immense mass, reinforced by the assimilated metals and his Level 30 density, didn't budge an inch.
He was the only stationary object in a world of moving water.
His heart began to pound—a wild, frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the serum.
He could feel the warmth of her skin through her thin training suit and the subtle, rhythmic pulse of her own Silver Ribbons as they hummed in surprise.
Mina looked up, her face flushed, her eyes wide as they met his.
"Oh... Kaelen," she whispered, a small, breathless giggle escaping her despite her exhaustion.
"You're... you're really strong. It's like hitting a warm wall. I didn't even feel the wave."
Kaelen's face turned a deep, embarrassed crimson, rivaling the color of the red dwarf sun overhead.
[CRITICAL ALERT,] Redveil's voice echoed in his mind, tinged with a dry wit.
[CORE TEMPERATURE IS SPIKING BEYOND SERUM PARAMETERS. HEART RATE: 148 BPM. ADVISING IMMEDIATE COOLING OR ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF 'PRIMARY BIOLOGICAL ATTRACTION' PROTOCOL.]
"Shut up, Redveil," Kaelen thought, his hands shaking slightly as he held her steady until the waves calmed.
As the training session ended, the professors looked on with impressed, yet suspicious, eyes.
Kaelen Veyron wasn't just surviving the Type-3 serum; he was thriving in it.
And as Mina looked back at him with a lingering, curious smile while wading back to shore, Kaelen realized the third year was going to be much more complicated than he had planned.