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Chapter 9 - Chapter 8– Distractions I Can't Afford

Professor Orwen leaned over the thick glass of the observation deck, arms crossed tight across his chest. The screen before him replayed Squad 5's simulation inside the D-rank holographic Rift—again.

It had been two weeks since that mission. And yet, Kael Navarro's movements still gnawed at him.

It wasn't just instinct.

It was restraint.

Timing.

Footwork too refined for someone who hadn't even officially awakened.

Too measured for a C-rank.

He tapped his pen slowly against the clipboard, eyes narrowing with each pass of the footage.

"Not flashy," he muttered. "But deliberate."

Next to Kael's name, he scribbled in firm strokes:

Potential Mismatch.

Recommend Re-Evaluation.

He circled it once. Hard.

---

The classroom buzzed with its usual pre-lecture energy—murmurs, slouched forms, stray laughter. Some students barely glanced up as the door opened.

Then they noticed Professor Orwen.

He entered with an armful of black-coded folders and the kind of expression that made even the A-ranks sit straighter.

Kael immediately noticed the change. The professor's usual aloof manner had sharpened into something colder—clinical, focused. His eyes swept the room like a scanner logging every weakness.

"Settle down," Orwen said, his tone flat but crisp. "Midterm evaluations begin in two weeks."

A chorus of groans rippled across the room.

Orwen dropped the folders onto the central desk. The sound echoed with finality.

Professor Orwen stood at the center of the hall, hands behind his back, voice steady.

> "Your midterm evaluation will be held over three days," he announced. "Each day covers a different core aspect of Ascender readiness."

A faint ripple moved through the class — tension, curiosity.

"Day one: Physical performance. Strength, speed, endurance, weapon synchronization… and Desyre control under pressure. We measure what your body — and your Core — can actually do when being pushed."

"Day two: Written assessment. You'll be tested on Rift theory, Desyre mechanics, WAA protocol, and basic squad formations."

"Day three: Live combat evaluation. One-on-one sparring, monitored directly by Division-grade operatives. Pairings will be based on compatibility — not rank. We want to see how your Core adapts."

He paused just long enough for it to settle in.

"You will be ranked. You will be watched. And what you show us over these three days… will decide more than just grades."

He scanned their faces. "You're not just students. You're WAA cadets. The Rift won't wait for your excuses."

His gaze drifted across the room—then paused, almost imperceptibly, on Kael.

Not long. Not direct.

But enough.

Kael kept his face still, unreadable.

But he felt it.

That wasn't just a passing glance.

Professor Orwen had seen something during that Squad 5 test. Back then, he said nothing. Just crossed arms, furrowed brow, and a silence that meant more than words.

Now, the silence was gone.

And the real evaluation was about to begin in two weeks.

During lunch break…

Levi whistled low. "They really want to break us in, huh?"

David groaned. "Written exams? Just let me punch something."

Charlotte leaned slightly toward Kael. "Sparring based on compatibility," she repeated. "I wonder what kind of partner you'll get."

Kael shrugged. "Probably someone who doesn't like to talk."

Charlotte grinned. "So… yourself?"

Before Kael could respond, she turned her tablet toward him, showing a schedule mock-up.

"I ran a guess through the academy's AI pairing matrix. Want to bet I can guess your partner?"

He smirked. "You really don't sleep, do you?"

Then came the moment.

As she leaned in to show him her screen again, Kael caught her reflection on the dark tablet glass—soft strands of dark hair glowing slightly in the sunlight, eyes focused, a faint trace of matcha balm still on her lips.

> Kael blinked once.

She's beautiful, and it's a problem.

Not for her—

—for me.

He looked away, pretending to clear his throat. Charlotte didn't seem to notice—thankfully.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing. Just thinking about who I'd get paired with."

"Hopefully someone boring," she said. "So I get to watch you win."

Later that day….

Kael found himself alone on the upper-level terrace just before sundown, a cup of synth-tea in hand. The academy dome below glowed with training fields and energy readings.

Steps approached. He didn't turn.

"I'm not stalking you," Charlotte said from behind. "But you keep wandering off."

Kael sipped quietly. "I'm not used to people yet."

"You'll get used to me," she replied.

There was silence again. The kind that lingered but didn't suffocate.

"You're hard to read, Kael."

"That's the point," he said simply.

Charlotte stood beside him now, hands in the pockets of her uniform jacket.

"Don't lose during the evaluation," she said, "I kind of need my squad to look good."

"No pressure," he muttered.

"All the pressure," she said, smiling again.

As Charlotte walked away, the last of the sunlight caught her hair—dark strands streaked with chestnut gold, swaying slightly with each step.

Kael didn't move. He just watched.

"She's... distracting me," Kael admitted inwardly. Not because she talked too much—she was beautiful. Too beautiful. The kind that made focus feel optional.

He exhaled quietly. Do I even have time for distractions like this?

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