Yesu had spent the whole night staring at the ceiling. For reasons she could not fathom, sleep had decided to stay beyond reach. Just like the girl in black who had suddenly beco a part of her everyday life. Just like the green fields and clear skies that had been flashing before her eyes for as long as she could rember, mories fading and reappearing.
Just like her ordinary life back at the district. Just like Aunt i. At the crack of dawn, Yesu got out of bed. Ava was asleep, sprawled across her bed with her face turned upward. Her mouth hung open, and drool trailed onto the bedsheets. She looked completely worn out. Clothes were still scattered around the room.
Yesu picked up her sweatpants from the pile and put them on. Then she went over to the rack and slipped on her sneakers, glancing at Ava's alarm clock. 5:00 AM. She grabbed a rubber band from the dresser and swiftly tied up her hair.
Last weekend, Greta had suggested trimming it again after Ava had restyled it. Yesu had declined. Her hair grew fast. It always escaped every predefined pattern, trim, or style. No matter what anyone did, it grew whichever way it pleased. Undefined. Like her. The dormitory was silent as Yesu strode down the hallway. Everyone was still asleep, exhausted from the festival. She took the stairs. The academy grounds felt empty as Yesu sprinted across them. Most of the festival decorations and props had already been cleared away. And in such a short amount of ti. Echelon seed almost too eager to return to its rigid state.
Yesu reached the field, a vast stretch of land nearly the size of a stadium. There wasn't a single soul around.
On her first day, she had imagined what running laps around the field would feel like. The reality was even better. The air was cool and fresh. The rhythm of her heartbeat synchronized perfectly with her footsteps. It felt as though she could keep running forever and never stop.
Ti passed. Then more ti passed. Eventually, Mahirah Corvane walked onto the field, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
She dropped the bag onto a seat in the front row of the bleachers. Then she turned toward the field and noticed Yesu. Running. Mahirah frowned slightly. Then she watched. One minute beca two. Two beca three. And so on. She observed that Yesu's pace remained unnaturally consistent.
She wasn't breathing hard either. Mahirah stood there for over twenty minutes, waiting for Yesu to slow down. Or stop completely. Neither happened.
By ten in the morning, the gymnasium was packed. Every Air Ability User—from first-years to seniors—stood in orderly lines. Including the staff. Nurous instructors and security personnel occupied various positions throughout the hall, monitoring every movent.
The atmosphere was quiet. Tense. On an elevated platform stood Professor Wakefield and Mr. Wallace. Beside them was a long table covered with various asuring instrunts.
Professor Wakefield cleared his throat.
"I am sure you are all aware of why you have been summoned here today." His gaze swept across the room.
"I am afraid there may be an imposter among us." He looked around as though he could identify the culprit through sheer observation alone.
"An unregistered Apex," he continued. "And I hope, for all your sakes, that this suspicion proves wrong." Mr. Wallace twisted his mouth slightly to hide a smile. Professor Wakefield turned toward him. Mr. Wallace stepped forward, his expression instantly neutral.
"Before us are System-verified instrunts capable of accurately asuring the Rank level of every Air User." Several heads turned. Whispers imdiately followed. "Don't get too confident," Mr. Wallace added with a sly smile. "Even if all you produce is a breath of wind, these instrunts will still determine your Rank accurately." The murmuring stopped at once. Professor Wakefield gestured toward one of the instructors.
The first-year students were led forward. One after another, they manipulated air through the asuring apparatus. Pressure. Velocity. Range. Control. Efficiency. The machine recorded everything. Then their Rank appeared. Rank One — Initiate.
Rank Two — Adept.
Rank Three — Specialist. The second-year students followed. Professor Wakefield watched intently. Mr. Wallace leaned closer. "Seems none of your students possess the potential you're looking for." Professor Wakefield never took his eyes off the proceedings. "Destruction and deceit aren't potential." Mr. Wallace nearly laughed. "Tell that to the Aegis Program." He paused.
"And every soul fighting in the war." A slight wrinkle ford on Professor Wakefield's forehead. Then he suddenly looked at Mr. Wallace.
"We do have an Expert Air User among the seniors." Mr. Wallace stared at him. A little incredulous. "He's currently away on an APG Prep field mission," he reminded him. Then he rubbed his chin dramatically. "You think he suddenly increased in rank and decided the first thing he'd do was return here to break into the academy library?" Professor Wakefield turned back toward the students.
"Nothing is impossible these days." Mr. Wallace knew exactly what he ant. The State property under their supervision. But he remained silent. The junior-year students were nearly finished. Finch stepped aside and allowed an impatient girl behind him to go first. "Ladies first," he said politely. The girl groaned nervously, her hands trembling slightly. She approached the table, took a deep breath, and gathered all her strength.
A powerful gust of wind surged across the instrunts. The machine processed the results. Specialist. She looked both relieved and disappointed at the sa ti. Then Finch stepped forward. He looked unusually serious. For several seconds, he simply stood there. Then he exhaled slowly.
Raising a hand, he summoned a gentle breeze. It drifted lightly across the instrunts. Then he waited. Patiently. The machine seed to take forever. Finally, the result appeared. Adept. A shadow of a smile crossed Finch's face before he sighed dramatically. "Oh well." He shrugged. "Maybe next sester." Professor Wakefield and Mr. Wallace leaned forward slightly as the senior students approached. Even the instructors and security personnel seed more focused now. And yet— Nothing. No one exceeded Rank Three. Not even among the staff mbers who underwent testing afterward. Professor Wakefield released a long sigh. "Is that relief?" Mr. Wallace asked. The professor considered the question. "Not quite." His gaze followed the departing Air Users.
"I had unconsciously hoped it was one of our own." He paused. "That would have made things easier." The last of the students left the gymnasium. Professor Wakefield folded his arms.
"Now it's clear." His voice was grim. "Echelon has an intruder." Several instructors exchanged uneasy glances. Even Mr. Wallace had beco serious. And that, more than anything else, unsettled them.
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