Destroy.
Destroy...
DESTROY...
It practically echoed across the arena.
At one point, one could definitely hear a pin drop. Not taphorically. Literally.
Marshal Julian was almost certain he could hear his own blood circulating. Every beat felt like a drumline out of sync, and when that boy—that boy—called out to him so casually, his heart skipped like a scratched record.
He was sure he wasn’t the only one.
Even the master with the worst hearing among them probably heard it crystal clear.
Then—
GASP.
The air snapped. Ti unpaused. And chaos exploded.
Tables screeched. Stools tilted. Wrinkled limbs launched into motion.
Even Master Allan was halfway through crawling over the panel table with murder in his eyes and spit flying from his mouth.
"WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE WAS THAT?!"
"UGH! MY HEART!"
"QUINN, YOU PRICK! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"
"WAIT, WHY ?!"
Several of the older masters were engaged in an ungraceful shoving match, scrambling to determine who would be the first to throw themselves across the tables and reach Luca. They looked ready to expend their final slivers of life energy just to throttle the child and rescue the cha from his obviously unworthy hands.
The noble cause? Saving the cha.
If they died in the process, so be it.
Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately for Luca—the attempted stampede was halted.
Because Luca was no longer within reach.
He had been gently swept into the protective arms of a tall, calm figure who had not been derailed by the chaos, nor by an unfortunate seating choice earlier.
Face t chest.
Luca blinked.
"...Xavier?"
"Mn. I’m here," ca the low reply, spoken as Xavier positioned a steady hand behind Luca’s head. "Do you have sothing you want to tell them?"
Honestly, he almost froze the mont Luca said that. But it was his little honest chipmunk. And considering that, Luca was likely planning sothing else entirely.
Surely there was more to it.
At least, he hoped there was more to it.
Because that sounded a lot like his spouse had just asked the highest-ranking military officer to destroy what was already promised imperial property. Which explained why Xavier had crossed the auditorium like a man on a mission.
Luca, still confused, tilted his head. "Why? What’s wrong? Weren’t you sitting over there?"
"Just a possible misunderstanding. Let’s try to clear it up," Xavier said gently, standing firm like a wall between Luca and the dozens of people losing their collective minds.
Marshal Julian, anwhile, looked like he wanted to vanish from the planet. If not that, then maybe request an assignnt in deep space.
He wanted to close his eyes.
He wanted to stop existing.
At the very least, he needed earplugs.
Because what was he supposed to do if his sister—the Empress of Solaris—heard about this?
He couldn’t even fake an illness. That excuse had already been used twice this quarter.
And frankly, even a lifelong bachelor like him could tell what this was.
Now, would it be too late to look the other way?!
The mont Xavier had ignored custom and crossed the floor without being called—what could anyone even say?
Julian counted to three in his head, slapped a neutral expression on his face, and said in the calst voice he could manage:
"Cadet Kyros, would you like to explain further?"
Xavier slowly relaxed his hold, and Luca, now blinking wide-eyed like a student just realizing there was a pop quiz, turned to look at the audience.
Dozens of eyes stared back.
So did his parents.
And his friends.
Oh no.
He had definitely said sothing bad.
Luca realized this with the weight of dawning horror and made a ntal note never to shout things like that again in public.
He bowed politely and said, "Marshal, I would like to deeply apologize. I realize that in my excitent, I have failed to string the correct words..."
The entire auditorium sighed like a hurricane being deflated.
And then Luca continued.
"Actually, this cha was built to properly demonstrate the usefulness of the cha I was really planning on making for the exam."
"...?"
"...What?"
"...WHAT?!"
The uproar returned like a tidal wave, louder than ever.
Marshal Julian pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered with infinite restraint, "Cadet, explain what you an by this."
Luca was aware he had made a grave mistake, and really, even D-29 considered packing clothes after a very long ti...
"Sir, I thought of doing it like this to maintain the legitimacy of the exam."
"I actually need damaged chas to test out the capabilities of the cha I was planning on building. But then I realized it wouldn’t be fair to use chas I didn’t build in front of the committee... so I decided to create the demo unit first so that there would still be ti to calibrate before use tomorrow..." He trailed.
Silence.
Complete, cosmic-level silence.
Luca’s words drifted through the air like so kind of alien transmission.
Most people blinked.
Master Allan twitched.
Because taken apart, those words sounded simple.
But when placed in order and spoken out loud, they beca a weapon of mass confusion.
That cha—that towering, legendary, horrifyingly expensive-looking cha—was not the actual exam piece.
It wasn’t.
That ant, by so cruel twist of the universe, Luca had planned to build a second cha all along.
Tomorrow.
As in, in less than twenty-four hours.
And this first cha, the one built over nearly twelve traumatic hours of spiritual and emotional whiplash, was just the warm-up act?
Master Allan felt like fainting. Or screaming. Possibly both.
So the cha he had nearly clutched his chest over... the one that made several masters reach for their nebulizers... was intended to be destroyed?
Why?
Why on Solaris would Luca hand it over to the Marshal?
The whole thing was baffling.
But to Luca, the answer ca just as casually as everything else.
Luca genuinely thought they would have to seriously try their hand at destroying it in order to damage it. That way, they could test how the real exam cha would perform in recovery and repair.
It sounded insane.
It sounded like the ravings of a boy too deep in his own genius.
But it also... sort of made sense?
Especially once Luca had discovered, firsthand, why gravemaw chitin was such a prized material.
He had tried to cut it with his regular power tools.
Nothing.
He had tried saws. Plasma edges. Manual reinforcent.
Still nothing.
So he turned to his spiritual ability.
That worked. Barely.
So no, he wasn’t joking when he said that building this cha had taught him sothing new. If it couldn’t be cut normally, it probably wouldn’t break normally either.
Maybe he should’ve picked sothing else.
Maybe.
But he didn’t really have more suitable options.
Haaay...
However, Master Allan wasn’t alone in thinking this, because even Master Colton, who had previously tried to protect Luca with the valiant strength of a tired uncle, now stepped forward with a pinched look on his face.
"Then Cadet Kyros," he asked carefully, "pray tell, why would you offer it if you intended to destroy it in the first place?"
Luca, eyes bright with the shine of good intentions, answered, "Master, that’s because I intend to fully repair it."
Sowhere, a faint choking noise echoed from the back of the hall.
Because of course.
Of course, that was the reason.
Because Luca thought the military might benefit from a different kind of cha.
Also, who, other than the people of his house, would volunteer their chas for destruction?
No one.
Naturally.
So wouldn’t he have had to make one?
Especially when all the biochas around him were self-healing?
"..."
It seed like he really had a lot more to learn.
Sigh.
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