"Dregs. I know the name sounds awful. But that's who you all are, and that's what you'll always be," the professor said, her red-painted lips curling into a smile.
Willow narrowed her eyes. Was she trying to provoke them? Because it was working. A wave of frowns rippled through the room. Some were angry, others defeated and for once, Willow was glad she wasn't the only one feeling at the demeaning words.
But... it was the truth. That was who they were. Dregs.
She pressed her lips into a thin line and tightened her grip on her tablet. Her eyes locked with the professor's, and the woman raised a brow.
"You look mad. Did I say something wrong?" she asked, striding toward Willow.
Willow held her gaze but said nothing. Silence was the only answer she could give.
The professor smiled at that, clearly amused, before retreating to the front of the class. She positioned herself beside a holographic projection of Nexus Academy. The entire structure floating midair in glowing detail.
"You're all first years. Non-mutants. Which means no vigorous training, no abilities to sharpen or strengthen," she continued coldly. "In other words, you're useless. But... you're still human, and humans have interests. Yours happens to be technology." She paused, letting her words sink in.
"I am Professor Ismere, and I'm here to teach you how to make your interest useful or you'll end up nothing more than wasted space in this cold, recovering world." She said, "I'm sure that you all know your history. That earth was once destroyed by Doctor Riven Callis."
Willow felt those words settle around her neck like a noose. The professor's eyes bore into her, and it almost felt like she knew Willow had destroyed Earth in her past life.
Willow's breath hitched, and she looked away, guilt settling heavily on her chest.
Professor Ismere continued, "Not everyone survives in Nexus. Not everyone gets green pastures. For Rangers, if you're good enough to get the attention of a top faction, you're lucky. For those who already belong to factions, you can have factions fighting over you."
She walked slowly across the front of the class, her voice cool and steady.
"And to be good enough, these are the things you must do for them: You must ensure their firewalls are secure. Everyone under their server must be protected. Every piece of information exchanged within the server must be accessible to the heads. You must understand how to track information, protect information, and infiltrate when necessary. As a tech genius, you follow three main rules: Track. Protect. Infiltrate."
"Track. Protect. Infiltrate. Hm..." Willow sat up straighter, interest flickering in her eyes.
Around her, other students leaned forward, just as eager. Professor Ismere didn't look surprised.
Everyone wanted to be strong, especially those without abilities. Even if the only way to gain power was by supporting and working for those who already had it.
"To track, which you'll begin learning in your first year, you need to monitor all information flowing through the server you protect. Identify anything that could harm your leaders or faction. Pull it out and report it."
Willow nodded, typing it down in her tab as did the other students.
"To protect, which you'll learn in your second year, you'll safeguard all data within the server. Ensure nothing leaks and no outside infiltration occurs. And in your third year, you'll learn how to infiltrate. You'll breach other factions' servers to serve your leaders. You'll also learn to build and maintain your own server." Professor Ismere ran her fingers into the hologram making it flicker.
"At the end of each year, your test results will determine the offers you receive. First-year trackers don't attract top factions. Second-year protectors might. But for third-year infiltrators... that's when the top ten factions start looking for talent."
Loud murmurs erupted in the room, some nervous, some excited. Willow's lips twitched into a half-smile. It was a lot but not more than she could handle. This wasn't her first rodeo.
"But if you don't want to work for factions," Professor Ismere added, clapping her hands softly with a sharp smile, "you can focus on sub-classes and work for the government or private companies instead."
Government. Willow narrowed her eyes.
Suddenly, loud bells rang, signaling the end of class. Professor Ismere walked out without a word, and the classroom burst into noise. Students were chatting about how intimidating she was, how brutally honest.
"I heard she's a mutant," someone whispered nearby, "but not a strong one. She's just a tech assistant in Lazreth Faction."
"You mean the fourth strongest faction? That's insane!"
"Yeah. It's really great that she's going to teach us."
Willow pressed her lips together as she pushed away from her seat and stepped into the hallway. She found Ismere... odd, sharp-eyed and brutally aware. And honestly, Willow envied her.
She wished she had been like that in her past life. Clear-eyed and unafraid, instead of blind and foolish, even with a genius mind.
The day dragged on, filled with endless classes and countless rounds at the computer. In the tech room, each student had their own assigned computers for coursework, and they were given "private" laptops for building and maintaining their servers.
Willow smiled faintly as she inspected hers. It was far more advanced than the one she already had but of course, "private" didn't mean unmonitored. She was sure the Academy had bugged it.
Slipping the device back into its bag, she left the classroom and stepped into the hallway. Students milled about, some chatting in groups, others hurrying off on their own.
Classes were over for the day. For Dregs, that meant nothing exciting. There was no combat training, no laser beams from their eyes. Just... normal.
"Willow!" a familiar voice called behind her, followed by a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Sage, standing there with a hopeful, shy smile.
"Are you done? Let's go to the ball field! I heard the third-years are having practice and anyone can watch. It's not a grade thing."
Willow blinked at her, surprised. Sage really thought she'd want to go watch sweaty boys throw a ball around? She wasn't a sports fan. She had never been one. She didn't even have any real hobbies never had, not even in her past life.
"Uh... I don't think I'm interested," she said slowly.
Sage's smile faded. "Oh. Sorry, I just don't have any friends yet, so I thought..." Her voice trailed off. She waved stiffly, already turning away. "I'm sorry... Bye. I'll see you back at the dorm."
Willow stood there, guilt tightening in her chest. She gripped the strap of her laptop bag. But... no. She wasn't going to do things just to fit in. Not again. That's what she did in her past life. Now she was here to change, to become stronger, not to repeat the same mistakes.
She left the academic building and made her way toward her dorm. Crossing the empty courtyard, she paused under a large tree in the centre. Its bark was pale, and its leaves were an odd shade of pale yellow. It rustled softly in the warm breeze.
Willow walked toward it, laying her fingers against the bark. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
"A cold, recovering world," she muttered, staring up at the strange branches. "It's been thirty years since..."
"It's you." came a deep, familiar voice that made her heart jump.
She turned sharply, her eyes wide. "Oh no."
Ezrik Veyne was walking toward her, cigarette between his lips, a devious glint in his emerald eyes and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh shit," she breathed, stepping back, her spine brushing against the tree.
Ezrik stopped in front of her, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling a slow, curling stream of smoke. "We meet again, Dreg."