"Sir Michael, I am going to be honest." Harold flipped over his notebook several tis before closing it with a soft thud.
"Plainly, you frighten . More so than ex-patients that had made an attempt on my life."
Harold heaved a deep sigh.
"While I can sense you are a good man, I have a feeling I am talking to nothing more than a persona, a doppelganger that instinctively chooses the most favorable answers. To , you appear as an old and wise person, perhaps more than , rather than a man freshly entered adulthood."
Gradually, Michael’s face turned stoic, devoid of any emotion, yet Harold continued to speak.
"The SSS rank is a simple reflection of my observation. I suppose you aren’t familiar with the grading system, so I reckon I should clear things up."
Harold held up three fingers.
"When examining soldiers, we analyze three main areas. Potential, leadership, and danger level. The potential is self-explanatory. Given your accomplishnts, you are classified as Spectacular. Your judging criteria, quick thinking, and moral codes elevate your leadership to the highest grade, Sensible. However, the most important factor is the danger level you represent. It asures how likely you are to disobey orders and go against the grain when you believe it necessary... For that I label you as the highest grade as well, Severe."
Despite what so might have believed, being classified as an SSS rank wasn’t an enviable position.
Michael was silent for a few seconds before speaking.
"Danger level?"
Harold nodded.
"Yes, perhaps the only reason such examinations exist. In theory it is supposed to weed out those revolutionary thinkers that may bring about change, those that want to challenge the status quo regardless of the damage they may inflict on others. One of the Emperor’s decrees commands that every soldier classified as S or A be dealt with imdiately, before dire consequences befall our race..."
The therapist leaned back in his chair, his eyes reminiscing about the past.
"And that, Sir Michael... Is the biggest fucking scam in the history of our existence." Harold declared.
"The danger level serves only the Emperor and those closest to him. Its purpose is to single out those who might one day prove troubleso, so they can be eliminated before they ever have the chance to act. In my career, I have lost count of how many young and promising stars have been extinguished by this vile rule..."
The old man t Michael’s gaze.
"So, while I personally classify you as SSS rank, I will change your danger level rating from Severe to Chivalrous for a C rating. It ans that you feel honored to follow orders and will hesitate to kill innocents but will not go against our masters."
Just like that, Michael passed the examination test, being labeled as an SSC rank. Arguably the best rating for a soldier there was.
"I see... Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to expect before coming here." Michael admitted. "But I will not forget this favor if you find yourself in need of trouble. Don’t hesitate to contact ."
He got ready to leave before Harold’s voice stopped him.
"I don’t need to be thanked for doing my job... However, I still find your ntal state of grave importance."
The old man exclaid somberly.
"Such a colorful palette of disorders is rare even among retired veterans, yet you seem weighed down by too many things. I know that it’s most likely pointless to speak of ntal health to a young man such as yourself. But please heed my words with great care."
Harold leaned forward.
"Part of why I consider your danger level so high is because sooner or later, you will break. Like a dam holding back an overwhelming pressure, there’s only so long before it gives way... and when it does, disaster strikes."
The man shuddered.
"You will have a breakdown. And the more stoic soone appears, the harsher the consequences tend to be. Considering that I have never t a person as detached as you, I can only hope there are no loved ones nearby when that mont cos. What you might do... could be sothing you regret for the rest of your life."
Harold paused briefly.
"Maybe a complete emotional ltdown can still be prevented. I doubt you’re married, given your age, but prioritizing ti with friends and your girlfriend, or multiple if the rumors are true, will help. Do ordinary things to keep in touch with your humanity."
Clearly uncertain how to react to the advice, Michael nodded, thanked Harold for his help, and then left.
"..."
Remaining alone in his office, Harold pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began drinking straight from the source.
"Ambitious young n, searching for aning, honor, love... They never heed advice. Not until it’s too late."
Slowly, he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a deep scar that ran from his forearm to his shoulder.
Harold could have erased it, but he didn’t have the heart to. It was his curse, the thing that served as a reminder. On the day he lost control and struck his wife and their two children. Coming to his senses only after their bodies had grown limp.
"I left the army and chose this profession to prevent others from suffering the sa fate. I can only hope that the young man considered my words carefully..."
With nobody left by his side, Harold indulged in his bottle of liquor in utter silence, pushing the dark thoughts away.
anwhile, Michael made his way back to the base. His docunts were finally in order.
Victoria heaved a sigh of relief once the paperwork was completed. There was no need for concern.
"Brother!"
Scarlett jumped on Michael. A bright smile plastered over her face, her eyes sparkling like priceless gems.
The shaless teenage girl was about to ask for sothing, no doubt.
Scarlett began to fidget. "Um... Do you think—"
"No." Michael interrupted. "You’re not going to the ball. The last thing I need is for soone to get swept up by your charm and try to forcefully drag you away. That’ll just add more people to the list I’ll have to slaughter."
He cleared his throat, realizing his misuse of words too late.
"I ant... neutralize. Yea... neutralize."
What followed were the desperate attempts of Scarlett, deploying her forbidden technique, puppy eyes, and cute pouting. But Michael remained firm.
"You can take care of Dad in the anti, alright?" Michael chuckled, patting her on the head.
She began to sulk.
"I can but..." Scarlett bit her lower lip. "Is it terrible that I feel like he’ll never wake up? We have spent so much money, consulted with the best doctors there are... all to no avail. I can’t even recall his voice anymore."
Tap!
Michael flicked her forehead gently.
"What are you so worried about? I promised I would see to it that Dad wakes up. It’s only a matter of ti."
Scarlett massaged her forehead with slightly teary eyes.
"I guess you do have a point. You are the one who said it after all..."
With the arrival of the next day, everybody who was going to partake in the ball made sure to wear their most formal clothes.
"As expected of Boss! You even managed to rock the suit-and-tie look!" Richard exclaid, taking out a hair comb to style his hair backwards.
Once ready, the man checked his appearance in the mirror. After receiving confirmation about his look from his comrades, he laughed.
"Good! Higher powers be damned! I am scoring tonight!" Richard proclaid.
The Indomitable Alliance made their way to the ceremonial ball.
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