Kiah's eyes lifted, then narrowed at Thorne.
"That was hardly a class," she replied flatly.
"It was. You were just too dumb to learn anything," he shot back without missing a beat. "Honestly, I still don't understand how you passed the test in the first place. The degenerates probably found you unappetizing."
"Your attitude is unappetizing."
"You—"
"Kids!" Killan's voice interrupted the argument. "Not now."
Thorne glanced at him, giving him a curt nod of respect before saying, dead serious.
"I'm not a kid."
Killan snorted. "To me, you are."
Then his gaze drifted between them, brow raised.
"Are you responsible for hitting her?" He asked, pointing to Kiah's cotton-stuffed nose. "I thought you were called to teach, not beat up the initiates."
Thorne gave a smug little shrug and leaned back against a workbench, arms crossed. His eyes gleamed with disdain.
"I didn't touch her. She lost to another initiate. She even had a chance to knock him down, but hesitated. She's not fit to be a soldier. She's weak. She wouldn't last out there. She should join a cleanup crew at the base and get it over with."
Kiah bit her tongue to stop herself from retorting. She had to keep in mind that Thorne could end her life if he wanted. Though he wouldn't do it in front of Killan, she doubted he would hesitate if they were alone.
And as much as she hated to admit it, his words stung because they held a truth. She was weak. But hearing it from his arrogant, sharp tongue irked her. She wanted nothing but to wipe that smug look from his face.
Still, she said nothing. He wasn't worth the argument.
So instead, she kept her head down and returned her attention to Killan's journal.
Thankfully, Thorne didn't press further. He turned, grabbed his safety gear, and joined Killan by the half-repaired pod.
Kiah tried to focus on the journal, but her attention kept drifting to the pair as they worked together, assembling the body of the pod. It was mesmerizing to watch the body of the pod come together.
"Is the battery finished? Should I install it?" Thorne asked as he wiped sweat from his brow.
Killan turned and blinked at her. "Yes. It's in the back room. Be careful. It is high voltage."
"I'm always careful."
Throne disappeared into the backroom and returned later carrying the sleek, heavy battery in his gloved hands.
Kiah's eyes lit up as she watched him handle it with practiced ease.
"Wait… is that a four-hundred-volt battery?" Her curiosity bubbled before she could stop herself.
She had seen a high-voltage battery once when a rich Oxford kid brought his father's Tesla to school to show off.
Thorne snorted like she had said something stupid.
Killan paused and turned to her.
"Four hundred? That's not even enough to power up the nav system. This is twelve hundred volts. It is enough to run full ops for hours."
Kiah looked flabbergasted. Twelve hundred volts? Was that even possible?
"Wow." She breathed out.
Thorne raised a brow at her, voice laced with condescension. "Have you even been inside a pod before?"
Kiah shot him a glare. "Yes."
She rode Eden's pod once before her test, but she hadn't exactly been focused on studying the engine specs while about to go on a life-or-death mission.
Killan went on to explain.
"The pods are each embedded with smart cores that have a stable performance over time, prevent faults, and perform self-diagnosis and preventive maintenance, providing a comprehensive check of the battery pack. It uses AI, which performs real-time collection and analysis of the operating data of the pod's lifespan, and is thus able to proactively recognise potentially abnormal behaviour and communicate it directly to its user."
He paused with pride as Thorne locked the battery into place.
"Let me demonstrate," Killan said, before facing the pod. "Pod, power on."
Immediately, the half-finished pod hummed to life, vibrations pulsing through the floor as soft blue light flickered from the chassis. The pod had activated.
Killan straightened up and spoke again.
"Pod, run self-diagnosis."
A mechanical voice resounded.
[Diagnostics initiated. All systems are stable. Power levels are at 94%. Structural integrity is optimal. No faults detected.]
Killan beamed and turned to Kiah. "See?"
"That's amazing," she said, eyes wide. "But I thought natural resources in Duskworn were nearly depleted. How are you still making high-voltage batteries? Do you build them yourself?"
"Yes, I do," Killan said proudly. "These batteries are mostly nickel or lithium-based. After the fall, the volcanic eruptions made nickel one of the most abundant resources in Novaris. You can practically pick it off the ground. And the reason it has not been depleted yet is that one of these batteries can last up to a decade. We have no reason to make new batteries regularly, so it's cost-effective."
"Sounds fun."
"I know, right?" Killan grinned. "You should read through the journal and learn the basics. Maybe soon you can also get your hands dirty."
Kiah nodded before turning back to the journal enthusiastically.
"Get her hands dirty? It would be a miracle if she doesn't short-circuit herself to death. She's completely unreliable."
Thorne's voice came, making her clench her fists.
"Shut up, kid," Killan warned.
But Thorne wasn't finished.
"But it's true. Isn't it suspicious that someone with amnesia suddenly takes an interest in mechanics? She doesn't even remember her own last name. Tell me, how can someone like that become a rebel soldier? It's like she is begging to die. She's stupid."
To prove his point, Thorne grabbed a torque wrench from the pile of tools and approached her.
She tried to ignore him until he directly shoved it in her face, waving it dramatically.
"Do you even know what this is used for? No, scratch that. I doubt you know what it's called. So why don't you quit pretending to be smart and scram! No one is buying your bullsh—"
Kiah slammed the journal shut with a sharp thud and stood, eyes blazing as she met Thorne's surprised stare.
"The audacity! You love running your mouth, don't you? Utterly pathetic! Call me stupid once, and I'll let it slide. But insulting me several times is simply unacceptable. There's so much I can take."
She took a step forward, her voice cold and steady.
"Since elementary school, I've been a straight-A student. I've never once gotten a B. I got a full-ride scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the country. I am a mathlete, and I won the math league twice, and led my team to nationals three times until I lost interest in competing. I have enough medals to open my own shop. Three of the top universities in the world fought to have me. And at Oxford? I've consistently scored above seventy percent. Do you know what that makes me? A first-class student! "
Her breath came sharp now, but she didn't waver.
"I had a bright future ahead of me until I got dragged into this mess. I didn't ask to be brought into this goddamn world, so this isn't my fault. Life is unfair enough as it is, so quit making it worse. And don't you dare try to question my intelligence because your stupid enhanced brain is nothing compared to my years of hard work!"
The garage fell silent.
Even Killan had stopped to look at her.
Thorne blinked, still holding the torque wrench in the air awkwardly, his expression unreadable. He tilted sideways like he was trying — and failing — to compute what had just happened.
While Thorne looked confused, Killan looked impressed that she had stood her ground, even though it was evident from his face that he didn't understand half of what she said. Still, he gave her a big thumbs up.
Thorne finally muttered under his breath, shifting awkwardly.
"What nonsense is she spouting now? I knew there was something wrong with her head… but she's completely insane."
Kiah's eyes snapped to him. She caught the way he flinched.
"What did you just say?"
He avoided her gaze and grumbled, "Nothing."
"Then get this torque wrench out of my face."
Thorne turned, retreating back to Killan.
Killan didn't let it slide, of course. He immediately started scolding him, but Kiah didn't stay to listen.
She ran a tired hand across her face, collected the journal, and turned to leave, storming down the hallway.
Her legs moved on autopilot. She was exhausted, not only physically from training, but mentally.
Adjusting to this new life, this strange world, this identity she hadn't asked for — it was like trying to breathe underwater.
She hadn't meant to explode like that. But being called stupid over and over again chipped away at her.
She had worked for everything she had back in her world. She had clawed her way to the top with late nights, cold meals, and silent tears. While other kids partied, she buried herself in textbooks. While everyone dated, she memorized formulas and chased deadlines. She did it all so that she and her mother could live comfortably.
And now? It was like none of it mattered.
Her gold medals were useless to her. Her first-class brain, discarded like scrap. No one cared how many academic trophies she had or what her GPA once was. Here, survival wasn't based on intelligence or ambition. It was about brute strength.
She was trying. Honestly trying. But this world? It wasn't giving her a damn inch.
So what if she couldn't throw a perfect punch? She wouldn't have needed to learn if God had just let her stay on Earth in the first place. She didn't ask for this, so why was she the one being punished?
It was unfair! Completely unacceptable!
And yet…
She had to accept it.