Elias Vale's palms were slick with sweat as he stood at the edge of the gleaming mech bay in the Galactic Academy. Around him, cadets his age moved like clockwork—adjusting visors, running diagnostics, and stepping into sleek combat mechs as if the machines were extensions of themselves. And then there was him: Elias Vale. The academy's lowest-ranked cadet, the one everyone already called "dead weight."
He swallowed hard and glanced around, hoping no one would notice how small he looked against the backdrop of polished metal and flashing lights. It was useless.
"Vale," a sharp voice called from the observation platform. Elias looked up. Serena Lark, platinum hair glinting under the bay lights, stood with one hand on her hip. Her piercing blue eyes scanned him like a predator measuring prey. "Are you really allowed to touch that relic? Or did they assign you here just to make the rest of us look better?"
A ripple of laughter followed. A few cadets snickered, whispering behind their hands. Elias clenched his fists, feeling the familiar mix of humiliation and anger rising in his chest.
He stepped toward his assigned mech, a barely-functional Mark IV Scrapyard Unit, its metal panels dented, HUD flickering, and servos groaning. It was the sort of machine no cadet in their right mind would touch. And yet here he was, forced to pilot it for the mech compatibility evaluation, a test he had already failed in countless simulations. One more failure, and he'd be marked for expulsion.
Serena's voice cut through the bay again. "Your mech isn't cooperating? How surprising. Maybe it knows not to waste energy on a worthless pilot."
Elias's cheeks burned. He flipped switches, pressed buttons, and tried to override the error codes. The mech jerked violently, nearly knocking him to the floor.
"Ha!" Serena laughed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Even a toddler could pilot better than you, Vale!"
"Focus, Elias," he muttered to himself. He gritted his teeth and ignored the laughter around him, but internally, panic was rising. He'd been counted out by everyone. Even the instructors seemed to have written him off as a lost cause.
"Elias Vale," the instructor barked, his cybernetic eye scanning the mech's systems. "Your incompetence is embarrassing. If you cannot operate a basic mech, perhaps you should consider leaving now—before you waste the academy's resources any further."
Something cold and determined sparked inside Elias. Not anger. Not despair. Focus. Precision. Calculation.
He took a deep breath and steadied his trembling hands. Flipping through the control panels, he tried to remember every theory, every lecture, every desperate practice session he had endured alone in the scrapyard. He had failed enough times that he could almost perform the motions by memory—but memory alone wouldn't be enough this time.
The mech shuddered violently again. Sparks flew from the joints, and warning lights blinked red. Then, a strange sensation coursed through his mind. Numbers and diagrams flashed across his vision, hovering in mid-air like holograms. A voice—mechanical, calm, and insistent—echoed inside his head:
"SYSTEM ONLINE. FUNCTIONALITY UNLOCKED: ANALYZE. REPAIR."
Elias froze. That couldn't be real. Could it?
He flexed his fingers experimentally—and the mech responded immediately. The servos whirred into perfect alignment. HUD displays stabilized. Broken circuits repaired themselves. A deep vibration ran through the frame as the mech's power systems surged.
"Impossible…" muttered a nearby cadet, wide-eyed.
Elias tested a simple forward maneuver. The mech obeyed flawlessly, weaving through virtual targets with precision he had never imagined possible. His heart raced. This was real. This was happening.
Serena's smirk faltered. She leaned over the railing, her piercing eyes narrowing. "Vale… what did you just do?"
Elias forced himself to stay calm. He didn't understand it fully yet, but he felt a surge of power, control, and possibility unlike anything he had ever known. For the first time in his life, he wasn't just surviving—he was capable of changing the rules.
The simulation escalated. The outdated mech, under his control, moved with speed and power rivaling the elite units in the bay. Targets disintegrated, drones collapsed, and sparks of electrical discharge lit the room like fireworks.
When the simulation ended, Elias stepped out of the mech, his suit smudged with grease and sparks. He was shaking—but not from fear. Exhilaration coursed through him. Triumph. Power.
The cadets around him whispered in awe. Even the instructor blinked, speechless for the first time.
Serena's blue eyes locked on him. She stepped closer, inspecting the mech. "Vale… this… this doesn't make any sense." Her tone was a mixture of disbelief, curiosity, and—just barely—respect.
Elias looked back at her, meeting her gaze. For the first time, he saw a flicker of interest where there had only been contempt.
"I don't know," Elias said quietly, trying to catch his breath. "But maybe this is my chance to stop being… worthless."
A small, almost imperceptible smirk crossed Serena's face. She didn't laugh. She didn't mock him anymore—not yet. But the shift was there. Something had changed between them.
Around him, the bay was buzzing with whispers, stunned cadets, and racing speculation. But one thing was clear: the academy had never seen anything like this.
And neither had Elias.