The classroom felt stuffy as the fifth period began. Stella sat two rows from the front with her notebook open. She wasn't taking notes yet, her mind wasn't on the lecture. She was distracted by yesterday.
A torn-up classroom. Glass on the floor. A spirit who is no longer a spirit. And Yumi. The way she'd moved like she'd been starving.
"Oops, didn't mean to take your kill." The words stayed with her.
Stella pressed her pencil down until the tip snapped.
"Idiot," she mumbled to herself.
She stared at the broken lead for a second, then set the pencil down carefully so she wouldn't break something else by accident. Around her, students all aspiring to be marksmen, duelists, healers, and a few in between. Most of them were talking about last night as Cole's monotone voice drowned beneath whispers.
"B-tier."
"No way."
"I heard it was planted."
They spoke the way people talked about celebrities and this was just the latest scoop. As if nothing has died a few classrooms down. Cole took control of the class, erasing the board and walking around the room to begin his next lesson. He wasn't the Saint, the Premier, nor an administrator. Just Head Field Instructor Cole, fifteen years at the Academy, long enough to treat survival like doctrine and doctrine like faith.
He wrote a word across the board in a clean, sharp line.
RESONANCE
Then, beneath it:
APPLICATION
He turned to face the room.
"Resonance is not philosophy," he declared. "Resonance is force trained through discipline. Mana becomes intent, intent outputs resonance, the resonance residue is what is left."
A few students nodded like he'd just said something holy. He lifted the chalk again and drew three simple columns.
Detection
Assessment
Response
"You detect," he began, tapping the first column. "You assess. You respond."
His chalk tapped the second, then the third.
"Assessment determines classification. Classification determines permitted response."
He tapped the third, harder.
"Your personal feelings are not a factor."
Stella felt her stomach tighten.
"A passive spirit is not the same thing as a harmless spirit," he claimed. "A spirit that appears inactive may be bait. A spirit that appears human may be wearing a human shape to make you hesitate."
His eyes swept the room as he paced back and forth.
"Hesitation gets people killed."
The room stayed quiet, actually attentive for the first time today.
He moved to the board again and wrote a second word beneath Response.
EXTERMINATION
Chalk dust drifted down. The word looked too heavy for chalk.
"Extermination is not cruelty," he stated without hesitation. "It is prevention. It is the reason your cities still stand."
Stella's grip on her notebook tightened without her noticing.
"The Great Resonance War taught us what happens when we treat spirits as misunderstood."
Her heart thudded hard enough for her to assume it could be heard nearby.
"Your duty is not to understand spirits," he explained. "Your duty is to end threats. It doesn't matter how cleanly you do it, but how quick. Otherwise, the civilian body count becomes a statistic you have to explain."
Because that was the problem, right? Fear decides what gets labeled a threat.
Stella looked down the row. Yumi sat one seat away, leaning back like she belonged in every room she'd ever entered. Her orange hair fell forward, half shadowing her green eyes. Her posture said relaxed, but Stella had seen her last night. She knew how quickly relaxed could become lethal.
Cole turned back to the board and began writing classifications.
D-tier.
C-tier.
B-tier.
A-tier.
S-tier.
No tier.
Each one with a corresponding response.
Stella's pulse climbed. She'd spent half the night awake with the words in her mouth, rephrasing until they didn't sound like something the administration would punish her for asking.
Idiot, don't do it.
She lifted her hand slightly, just to test herself. Yumi subtly shifted towards her as a response. Yumi leaned closer to Stella, just enough for her voice to reach Stella and no one else.
"Stella," she murmured.
Stella's hand froze halfway.
Yumi didn't look at her when she said it. Her eyes stayed forward, fixed on the board like she was still listening.
"Please don't," she whispered with intense, protective eyes.
It wasn't mocking or fake-sweet like what she did on the first day. She kept her voice quiet and urgent as if she was trying to stop a friend from stepping into a trap.
Stella almost lowered her hand.
Almost.
Last night had already been a trial and she'd failed something inside herself by staying quiet. She wouldn't do it again.
Her gaze dropped to her notebook.
EXTERMINATION.
And behind it, the image of that spirit in the classroom. Aggressive? Yes. Wrong place for it to be? Sure. Even then, it was just existing before Yumi ended it like she was swatting a fly.
Stella fully extended her hand. The motion was small, but it felt like slamming a door open in a storm.
Cole paused mid-sentence. He turned, eyes narrowing slightly. His expression was emotionless.
"Yes," he called out. "Devigne."
The room shifted.
You could feel it when attention turned on you. It felt like heat on bare skin. Stella slowly lowered her hand and kept her voice steady.
"Sir," she began, hating how careful she sounded. "You said extermination is prevention. That hesitation kills."
He nodded once, like this was acceptable so far and he had no reason to think otherwise. She took a breath.
"Saint Laurena stated publicly that action isn't justified if the spirit remains passive."
The moment the name left her mouth, the air changed. Everyone had an opinion about Saint Laurena.
A few students exchanged glances. A quiet snicker came from somewhere behind Stella. Yumi's head dipped slightly as she was looking at Stella, but began to look down at her desk.
"Please," the gesture implied. "Why would you do this to yourself?"
Stella didn't look at her.
"If a spirit is not attacking," she continued, "if it's not escalating, shouldn't we attempt common ground before force?"
A pause cut the air like a sword in still wind. Her own words echoed back at her and sounded ridiculous. Stella fully believed in what she said, but she could already hear how it would be filed.
Cole didn't react the way she expected. He stared at her for a long moment, like he was deciding whether to treat her like a student or a hazard. He slowly walked closer to the board to put the chalk down.
"Thank you," he asserted flatly.
The room went still.
"You're not wrong to be confused," he continued as he walked towards the class. "You are also not wrong to listen when a Saint speaks. Saints carry history."
He paced once, slow and controlled.
"But Saint Laurena does not teach this classroom," he firmly responded.
"She speaks from Parliament inside of political buildings. Those ideals can afford distance."
Stella's stomach dropped. She knew where this was going. The defense that sounded reasonable until you noticed what it excused.
"We teach what happens when you are out of time," Cole preached, turning away to pace the floor. "When you don't get a second chance and civilians die in the streets while you're still trying to 'understand' the spirit."
He turned back to the students, eyes sweeping the class.
"There are soldiers and alumni students who visit this academy and have watched friends get hollowed out by something that looked passive right up until it wasn't."
A few students nodded harder now, like he'd finally spoken the truth. Heat crawled up Stella's neck.
"I'm not saying we never use force," Stella pleaded. "I'm saying—if it isn't attacking—then killing it shouldn't be the first answer."
If it's a boy shaped like a snail.
She didn't say that part. In this room, compassion sounded like stupidity.
Cole put his hands on his desk, fixing his eyes directly at Stella. His lips began to move as he stopped her gently.
"Devigne," he answered, his tone softening just enough to sting. "The reason your question is dangerous is because it assumes you will always know what you're looking at."
She went cold.
"You won't," he continued. "You will see something that looks afraid and you will hesitate. It will kill someone who trusted you to act."
Silence spread throughout the classroom.
His voice grew even more quiet, but had strong resolve, "And you will spend the rest of your life wishing you had been cruel sooner."
Stella's throat tightened.
Somewhere behind her, someone whispered, "that's cute," followed by a soft laugh.
She didn't look back.
"Saint Laurena herself said—" she started, but was cut short.
"Laurena is a Saint," Cole interrupted. "She can afford to speak of hesitation. She has people whose entire job is to survive long enough to make that kind of voice possible."
Stella's fingers curled into her palm. She couldn't fathom how someone can feel this way.
"So your answer," she said standing up, voice shaking now despite everything she'd tried, "is that we kill first—because we're afraid of being wrong?"
A murmur rolled through the room. Cole stared at her like she'd finally shown her real face.
"No," he retorted. "We kill first because we've been taught what happens when we don't."
He turned back to the board.
"Sit down, Devigne."
It wasn't cruel, but a decisive choice he made about the topic and would now close.
Stella slowly sat down and faced forward. She saw Yumi staring at her and as she met her gaze, Yumi gave her a soft nod.
Cole pressed the chalk against the chalkboard and lectured as pages turned and students adjusted their chairs, even slightly dragging them into place. Stella opened her notebook.
If I'm going to be here, she wrote, I can't be invisible.
And if I'm going to be removed, I need to understand why.