Author's Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.
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Victor slept.
Not the jittery, sheet-cocooned catnaps he'd been stealing between 02:00 and 04:30 alarms, but honest-to-void, gravity-heavy sleep. No contraband helmet digging into his brow. No roommate pretending not to hear the muffled beeps. Just a dark room, a cold pillow, and the knowledge that, as an S-rank, he didn't have to present himself at morning drills like a winded penguin anymore. Academy regs even spelled it out: "S-rank students may opt into or out of routine instruction at their discretion." He'd framed that line on his wall, right between the balcony and the training dome controls.
"Goodbye, 4:30," he muttered to the empty room, and fell face-first back into the mattress.
When sunlight finally combed its way across the balcony, he stretched, rolled his shoulders, and grinned into the ceiling. "All right. Playtime."
