The group parted ways, leaving Javi standing before the steel door that loomed like a vault. When it hissed open, he exchanged a quick glance with his mentors before stepping inside.
The metal door sealed shut behind them with a hollow thud that seemed to echo in his chest.
Javi's first reaction was a smirk—a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes as he took in the stark room. "Whoa… this looks straight out of a crime drama. Like, are we about to interrogate someone or what?"
Gwen crossed her arms, her face unreadable as stone. "Try to act like you belong here, Garcia."
Richard, ever the mediator, gave a half-smile and shook his head. "He's fine, Gwen. Let the rookie breathe a little."
Inside, the room was plain—too plain. Three chairs surrounded a four-seater table. A one-way mirror stretched across the far wall like a black void. A CCTV camera perched in the corner, its red light blinking steadily. A blackboard waited near the back, dusty and forgotten. It was the kind of space designed to strip people down to their nerves, to make them feel exposed.
The air reeked faintly of steel and old coffee—bitter and stale. Fluorescent lights glared overhead, bleaching everything in a sterile, unforgiving hue. The walls seemed to lean in—not literally, but as if they were watching, waiting, judging. It should've felt suffocating. And yet, somehow, they could all breathe.
Javi forced out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his fingers tangled in his hair. "Okay... time to go to work. Time to be a detective. Time to not puke." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
Richard chuckled, leaning casually against the wall with one ankle crossed over the other. "Relax, man. You'll do fine. Just be yourself."
"Yeah," Javi muttered, rubbing his sides as if trying to massage away the anxiety. "Easier said than done, dude. This place gives me the creeps—like, serious horror movie vibes."
"The best thing you can do," Gwen said sharply, her tone cutting through his rambling, "is stop whining and focus on improving."
Richard nodded, his expression growing more serious. "She's right. This place is supposed to make you uncomfortable—that's the whole point. It's a test of your mental strength."
Gwen sighed, rolled her eyes, then stepped forward and grabbed Javi by the arm with surprising force. "Now sit before I lose what little patience I have left."
Javi let out a surprised yelp as he was abruptly yanked into the chair, nearly stumbling over his own feet. "Whoa—hey! Easy there! What's with the attitude, Watson?" He crossed his arms defensively, feigning annoyance but failing to hide the slight flush creeping up his neck at being manhandled so easily.
Gwen raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed by his protest. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Garcia. We're here to work, not to play nice."
Javi rolled his eyes dramatically, slumping back in his chair. "Your mouth really doesn't know its limits, does it?"
Richard sighed, sensing the familiar tension crackling between them like static electricity. He pulled out a chair and sat down in one fluid motion, his movements calm and deliberate. "Alright guys, why don't we ease up a little? Come on—let's start this training with smiles on our faces. Or at least try not to kill each other."
Javi groaned, reluctantly letting go of his irritation as he uncrossed his arms. "Fine, fine. But someone should probably give Watson a crash course in friendly communication, 'cause her attitude could seriously use some work."
Gwen shot him a withering look, her jaw tightening. "Likewise, Garcia. Your sarcastic tendencies could use some major refinement. Like, a lot of refinement."
Richard raised both hands in a peacemaking gesture, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Okay, okay. How about, to keep the peace, you two shake hands? Just humor me here."
Javi and Gwen exchanged a glance, both clearly skeptical. Their eyes narrowed at each other as if testing who would cave first.
Javi shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Seriously? A handshake? What's that gonna solve, Richard? You think we're gonna become besties?"
Gwen huffed in agreement, shifting her weight onto one hip. "Yeah. As if that's gonna work."
Richard's smile didn't waver, though his eyes held a knowing glint. "Come on, guys. A little hand-shaking won't hurt. Besides, it's for the mentor-student relationship. Professionalism and all that."
Javi smirked wider and extended his hand toward Gwen with exaggerated formality. "Alright, Watson. Let's make this official. Handshake of peace?"
Gwen hesitated for a beat, her eyes flicking between his outstretched hand and his face. Then she rolled her eyes hard enough that it probably hurt and reluctantly grasped his hand with a grip that could crush steel. "Just for now," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. "And after this? Things go back to normal."
"Deal," Javi said through gritted teeth, wincing as she practically crushed his knuckles in her iron grip. "Ow—okay, okay! That's definitely a black belt grip right there. You trying to break my hand?"
Richard clapped his hands together once, grinning like a proud parent. "There we go—see? Was that so hard?"
Javi let out a short, breathless laugh as he pulled back from the handshake, rubbing his now slightly sore knuckles with an amused but pained expression. "It's either you really hate me, or... this is just your twisted way of showing you care."
Gwen leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes so hard they nearly disappeared into her skull. "Now that the sentimentality has finished—" She reached up and straightened her collar with precise, deliberate movements. "—we can officially dive into the training."
Javi pouted like a kicked puppy. "Great. Ignorance. My favorite."
A silence fell over the room—a shift in the atmosphere so sudden it felt like the air pressure had dropped.
Javi sensed the change immediately, his anxiousness creeping back up his spine like cold fingers. He shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the mirror watching him. "So... how do we start? Like, what's step one here?"
Richard straightened in his seat, his entire demeanor shifting as he slipped into teacher mode. His casual friendliness melted into something more focused, more intense. "Alright, Javi. Step one—meditation."
Javi blinked rapidly, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief. "Meditation? That's it? Like, sit cross-legged and hum or something?"
"Feel the room," Gwen instructed, her voice dropping into something quieter but more commanding. "If you can't handle the pressure here, you'll never last out there."
Richard added, leaning forward slightly with his elbows on his knees. "In the process, your body and mind will adapt. Can you do that?"
Javi took a deep breath, trying to project confidence he didn't quite feel. But as he looked around at the cold walls and the watching mirror, doubt flickered across his face. "I mean... I can try."
Richard leaned forward a little more, his expression serious but encouraging—like a coach before the big game. "Good. Start by focusing on your breathing. Breathe in through your nose—" He demonstrated slowly. "—hold it for a second, then exhale slowly through your mouth."
Gwen nodded curtly in agreement, her arms still crossed. "And don't fight the feeling of this place watching you. Embrace it—lean into the discomfort. That's how you master control."
Javi closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he followed their instructions. His chest rose and fell in measured breaths, his hands gripping the armrests.
A minute passed. Then another.
Nothing happened.
Javi's eyes snapped open, frustration creasing his forehead. "Hey, this is getting boring! I'm just sitting here like an idiot. When does something actually—"
"Patience is a virtue, you idiot!" Gwen snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Just wait!"
Richard sighed, his tone gentler. "Give yourself a moment, Javi. You'll feel it soon. Trust the process."
Javi exhaled heavily but obeyed, closing his eyes again. His fingers drummed once against the armrest before stilling.
Another minute crawled by. Then two.
And then—something snapped.
Not Gwen's patience. Not his own frustration. But something deeper—his instincts.
He could feel the whole room now. It was heavy, oppressive, like invisible hands pressing down on his shoulders. The air itself seemed thick, suffocating.
He tried to speak, to break the silence, but his throat closed up. The words died before they could form.
The smell of coffee and that detective vibe faded into nothingness, replaced by something raw and primal.
And then he felt it.
The walls first. They were seamless steel, cold and smooth to the touch even though he wasn't touching them. They seemed to breathe in the silence, expanding and contracting faintly under the fluorescent lights like they remembered every scream, every confession, every lie ever spoken within them.
Then the floor—darker than he'd initially noticed, polished enough to catch faint, ghostly reflections but dulled by time and the weight of countless interrogations. It seemed to hold the burden of every person who'd sat in this chair before him.
The one-way mirror stretched across one side of the room, black and bottomless like staring into the void. He couldn't see who might be behind it, but sometimes—just for a split second—he felt them watching. Like eyes blinking inside the glass itself, patient and unrelenting.
Above him, a single fluorescent light hummed with mechanical precision, cold and sterile. It isolated whoever sat beneath it, casting no shadows, leaving absolutely nowhere to hide.
And then there was him—sitting in the center of it all, his heartbeat suddenly too loud in his ears, wondering if the whispers he heard were echoes trapped in the walls... or only screams inside his own head.
And then there were Gwen and Richard. He knew they were with him, sitting just a few feet away, but his mind spiraled anyway. Why aren't they feeling this? Why do they look so calm? What's wrong with me?
"Wh-what is this pressure?!" His voice cracked, raw and panicked. "I've never felt something like this before! It's like—like even the walls are talking to me! And them—" He gestured weakly toward his mentors. "Why don't they feel as bad as I do?!"
Gwen and Richard exchanged a knowing glance, the faintest hint of smirks tugging at their lips. They knew exactly what this was—the first awakening of the sixth sense.
"Come on, dude," Richard thought silently, his eyes never leaving Javi's trembling form. "You can do it. Don't let the pressure get to you."
Gwen's internal voice was cooler, more calculating. "Let's see if you can really suit as my rival."
Javi's breath hitched violently as the weight of it all pressed down harder—his pulse hammering in his ears like war drums, sweat forming at his temples and sliding down the sides of his face. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair like they were the only anchors keeping him from drowning. "Gah!"
Gwen stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. She circled around him slowly, assessing him like a drill sergeant inspecting a new recruit. "You still alive, Garcia?" Her tone was half-teasing, half-concerned—a rare crack in her usual armor.
Richard leaned forward urgently, genuine concern flashing across his face. "Hey, hey—easy there. You okay? You still with us, man?"
Javi nodded weakly, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he tried to catch up with his racing heart. "Y-yeah... I'm here. It's definitely terrifying, but I'm here."
His voice came out strained, half-laughing despite the terror still gripping him. "This feels so strange... I feel like—" He looked down at his hands, shaking and slick with sweat. "My senses are, like, heightened or something. Like I'm wired into everything."
Gwen watched him closely, her dark eyes unreadable but intensely attentive. She crossed her arms again, tilting her head slightly. "And? How does it feel?"
Richard leaned forward too, no longer mocking—just watching with genuine interest to see how Javi would process this new, overwhelming layer of awareness.
"It's... heavy," Javi admitted after a long beat, his voice quieter now. "Like every lie I've ever told just got dragged under a spotlight. Like the room knows me."
He looked down at his trembling hands again, flexing his fingers slowly as if testing whether they still belonged to him. "I mean... wow. I can't even explain it properly. It's like—if I think broader, I can feel everything. But I'm not sure why it's so negative. It just... it gives me this dark, heavy energy. That's all I can explain right now."
A flicker of something—maybe respect, maybe understanding—passed through Gwen's eyes before she schooled them back into cool neutrality. "And that," she said quietly, her voice carrying an unexpected weight, "is why we start here."
Javi rubbed his sides again, a nervous habit he couldn't seem to shake. "Guys... seriously, what was that? Like, for real—what just happened to me?"
Richard's gaze was steady but not unkind, his voice calm and measured. "That's your instincts kicking in—really kicking in. This place doesn't just look like it watches you. It does."
Gwen didn't soften her tone, but she answered plainly, almost clinically. "It forces honesty out of you whether you want it or not. No masks, no distractions, no hiding. Just you and the truth."
Javi's words came out in a stutter, his brain still trying to catch up with his body. "So... in other words, t-that's my brain's first impression? Like, my raw reaction to everything?"
Gwen nodded once, almost casually, as if they were discussing the weather. "Right. All those instincts you don't consciously think about in the outside world? In here, they go absolutely crazy. This room is designed to make you face the most honest version of yourself—no filters."
Richard's smirk softened into something more knowing, more brotherly. "You're doing fine, Javi. Better than fine, actually. The point isn't to fight it—it's just to feel it. Let it wash over you."
Gwen tilted her head slightly, studying him with a quiet intensity that made him feel like a specimen under a microscope. "And you're handling it better than most rookies on their first try. Most people pass out or start crying."
A beat passed before Javi exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. "...Okay. Yeah. I guess that's... kinda cool? Even though I'm, like, five seconds away from screaming my head off."
Gwen's expression remained unmoved, her voice firm. "Don't fight the fear—that'll just make it a hundred times worse. It's a natural reflex. Ride the wave."
Richard added supportively, "Just focus on your breathing again. In and out. Nice and slow."
Javi nodded shakily and closed his eyes once more, forcing himself to find his breath amidst the chaos swirling in his mind. "Okay... okay... I got this. I totally got this."
His voice didn't sound entirely convinced, but there was determination there too.
After another tense moment, his shoulders gradually began to relax. His breathing evened out. The panic ebbing slowly away like a retreating tide.
When he opened his eyes again, they were clearer—still wary, but adjusted. "I'm okay," he breathed out slowly. "I'm okay. This is super creepy, but... okay."
Gwen and Richard raised their eyebrows in perfect synchronization, an almost comical mirror of each other. "Now that's better," they said in unison.
Javi let out a long, shaky exhale and slumped back in his chair. "Phew. That was officially the most suffocating moment of my entire life. Like, hands down."
Richard's smile returned, warm and encouraging as he tried to lift his best friend's spirits. "And that's where your potential gets awakened, dude. That feeling? That's the beginning."
Javi blinked rapidly, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and cautious excitement. "Woah. For real? That nightmare was actually useful?"
Gwen nodded once, decisive and matter-of-fact. "Yes. And that's not an opinion—it's a fact. You just caught a glimpse of an ability every single one of us possesses. But you? You're only just starting to discover yours."
Javi blinked again, his gaze bouncing between Gwen and Richard like he was watching a tennis match. "Wait—you mean the instincts thing is the main course of whatever I'm training for? Like, that's the whole deal?"
Richard chuckled, shaking his head. "No, buddy. It's not just instincts. In a way, it's gonna become your second language in everyday life—if you learn how to use it properly."
Javi raised his eyebrows, a smirk creeping back onto his face despite his exhaustion. "Oh, come on. You mean every single day I'm gonna have to hear all these annoying noises and feelings around me? That sounds like a supernatural power or something. Are we training to be psychics?"
Gwen's smirk sharpened, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "The mind is way more powerful than you think, Garcia. So what now? You just gonna whine about it? Or are we actually gonna start working?"
Javi exhaled heavily, weary but with an unmistakable glint of excitement flickering beneath the fatigue. "What choice do I have at this point?"
Gwen's smirk widened, her posture straightening as she stepped fully into her role as leader. "Good answer. Now, let's dive into the evaluation phase."
Javi muttered under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear, "I've got a really bad feeling about this..."
--
PHASE 1: EVALUATION PHASE
Gwen exhaled slowly, her gaze locking onto Javi's with surgical precision—the kind of look that could dissect a person without them even realizing. "Prepare the most vulnerable version of yourself."
Javi blinked, confusion flickering across his face like a candle flame in wind. "What do you mean by that?"
Richard sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Dude... we need to peel you back, layer by layer. We want to know more about you—the real you."
Javi's stomach dropped like an elevator with cut cables. He could feel exactly where this conversation was heading—like standing at the edge of a cliff and seeing the jagged rocks below. "W-wait a minute. Please don't do what I'm thinking you're gonna do."
Gwen raised her eyebrows, utterly unamused, her arms still crossed like a barrier. "And what exactly do you think we're thinking?"
Javi's voice came out nervous, almost pleading. His fingers twisted together in his lap. "Digging into my past?"
Gwen nodded—simple, matter-of-fact, as if she'd just confirmed the weather. "Is there a problem with that?"
Richard was well aware of how sensitive Javi's past was—they'd talked about fragments of it. But they had no choice. Not here. Not now.
Javi raised both hands in mock surrender, but his eyes betrayed genuine fear. His past was a crime scene he kept walking away from, yellow tape still fluttering in his mind. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Gwen leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp but—surprisingly—not unkind. "You don't have to be ready. You just have to tell the truth. Here and now."
Richard interjected gently, his tone softer than Gwen's but no less serious. "And we're not here to judge you, man. We're here because this place forces honesty out of you whether you want it or not. That's the whole point."
A tense silence stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight, humming with unspoken tension.
Finally, Javi exhaled through his nose, his shoulders slumping in reluctant surrender. His hands dropped to his lap, fingers twisting together nervously. "...Fine. But I'm warning you guys—I've got layers. Like an onion. Or an ogre."
Gwen's expression softened—just a fraction, barely noticeable, but it was there. Her voice lost some of its sharp edge. "Look, I'm your mentor right now. And as mentors, you need us to guide you through this. So just... trust us. Okay?"
A beat.
Then, quietly: "Please?"
Both Richard and Javi's heads snapped toward her so fast they nearly gave themselves whiplash. Their mouths fell open in perfect synchronization.
"Did you just—" Javi started.
Richard continued, equally stunned, "—say please?"
An actual, honest-to-God smirk tugged at the corner of Gwen's lips—small, but unmistakably real. "I did."
Javi stared at her like she'd just sprouted wings. "...Damn. You're actually kind of nice when you're not yelling at me or threatening my existence."
Richard grinned wide enough to split his face. "Alright, looks like Gwen is really in the mood today. We don't want to waste this rare opportunity."
Javi chuckled despite himself, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. "Can't argue with that logic."
Gwen rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible, her tone edging back toward exasperation. "Let's get started before I change my mind and go back to yelling."
Javi couldn't help but crack a grin, though his fingers still fidgeted in his lap. "Okay, okay. But can we, like, start small? Ease into it with an easy question first?"
Gwen nodded once, her expression still serious but not hostile. "Fair enough." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "What's one thing you're good at—something that you can call a talent?"
Richard leaned back slightly, giving Javi breathing room, his posture deliberately casual to ease the pressure.
Javi's face brightened a little, relief washing over him at the softball question. "Oh, that's easy. I played lacrosse back in middle school with my friends."
Gwen's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Lacrosse? Really?" She tilted her head slightly. "You don't exactly strike me as the sporty type."
Richard chimed in, leaning forward with sudden interest. "Wait, seriously? What position did you play?"
Javi shrugged, a nostalgic grin tugging at his lips. "Left middy. I wasn't, like, a star player or anything—not getting any scholarships—but I was decent. Good enough to be on the team and hold my own."
Gwen's gaze sharpened with curiosity, her detective instincts kicking in. "So what happened? Why did you stop?"
Javi's grin faltered. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "Uhh... life happened, I guess. You know how it is."
Richard frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. "That's... pretty vague, dude."
Gwen's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but focused curiosity, like she was reading between the lines of a witness statement. "Elaborate. This place doesn't accept half-answers."
Javi raised his hands again in mock surrender, letting out a nervous laugh. "Okay, okay, guys. Chill."
He scratched his temple, his jaw working as he searched for the right words. "Well... I left California to study here in England, you know? It was... it was really tough to say goodbye to my friends and all that. I didn't want them to get hurt by me leaving, so I just—" He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "—I just vanished. Didn't tell anyone. Just... ghosted them."
A heavy beat of silence passed, thick and uncomfortable.
Richard finally spoke, his tone carefully neutral but tinged with concern. "You left without saying goodbye? At all?"
Gwen tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "That's a rather cowardly thing to do, Garcia."
Javi's expression tightened, defensiveness flashing in his eyes like a cornered animal. "I know. Trust me, I know." He paused, his voice dropping. "Are you judging me right now?"
Gwen held his gaze without flinching, her voice steady as a metronome. "Not judging. Just stating facts."
Richard interjected before the tension could escalate, his voice firm but gentle. "Look—this place forces honesty, right? So let's try this again: Why did you really leave without saying goodbye?"
Javi sighed heavily, running both hands through his hair until it stuck up at odd angles. He knew he was cornered now—the evidence mounting, nowhere left to hide.
"Because of— "His expression tightened, his jaw clenching. "—what happened to my family."
Richard's expression suddenly went neutral, carefully controlled. He already knew bits and pieces—they'd talked about it a few weeks ago while stargazing on the academy roof—but he'd never heard the full testimony.
Gwen's expression softened noticeably, understanding dawning in her eyes. But she remained guarded, waiting. "What happened to your family, Javi?"
Richard stayed quiet, sensing the gravity of this moment, his eyes never leaving his best friend's face. He didn't push. Didn't prod. Just... listened.
Javi's eyes began to glisten, tears forming at the edges despite his best efforts to hold them back. His voice cracked like ice under pressure. "It all happened so—so fast. First my sister caught an illness, and it suddenly became critical. Her name was Jane."
A small, painful smile ghosted across his lips. "She was older than me. Fearless, just like my mom." He swallowed hard, his throat working against the emotion. "When she died, my parents decided to migrate here to England. Fresh start, you know? And that's why I left my friends without saying goodbye. I couldn't... I couldn't handle another loss."
Gwen was silent, her expression softening significantly—her eyes filled with unexpected empathy that she didn't try to hide.
Richard didn't say anything, just waited for Javi to continue, giving him all the time he needed. The room seemed to hold its breath.
Javi exhaled shakily, already tearing up, moisture trailing down his cheeks like silent witnesses. "And then... not too long ago, a crime happened."
His expression darkened like storm clouds rolling in, blocking out the sun.
"One night while we were having dinner, a burglar broke into our house and—" His voice broke completely. Shattered. "—it was a massacre. That's the reason I lost my parents."
The words hung in the air like smoke from a gunshot.
Gwen's expression transformed into one of shock and deep sadness, her carefully maintained composure cracking as she absorbed each word like body blows.
Richard's expression remained neutral, but his eyes darkened considerably, the weight of Javi's story settling over him like lead.
They waited without a word, giving him space to breathe.
Javi was clenching everything now—his fists white-knuckled, his jaw tight enough to ache, his entire body wound like a spring ready to snap. "That's why I met Mr. Graves. He fetch me after... after everything. And he brought me here to this academy."
A pause.
"That's all."
But it wasn't all. They could all feel it.
Gwen's eyebrows shot up. She leaned forward, her voice gentle but pressing like a careful excavation. "Wait a minute... you've only been here for three weeks. You mean your parents' incident happened—"
"A month ago." Javi's voice was hollow, distant. "Maybe three and a half weeks."
Gwen's expression shifted through several emotions at once—disbelief, concern, perhaps even frustration at not knowing sooner. She opened her mouth as if to speak, hesitated, then finally managed, "...You didn't tell anyone?"
Javi gestured toward Richard with a tired eye roll, his hand falling limply back to his lap. "He knows. But not all of it. Just... pieces of the puzzle."
Gwen turned to Richard with a stern look, her eyes flashing like warning lights. "You knew?"
Richard nodded, maintaining his calm demeanor despite her intensity. "Yes. I knew some of it."
Gwen inhaled deeply, her gaze still fixed on Richard like a laser sight. "And you didn't think to share that information with me? Your co-mentor?"
Richard grinned sheepishly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Chill, Gwen. You didn't ask, and he's my roommate and my best friend, so... sorry if I didn't tell you. Bro code and all that."
Gwen's expression remained unreadable for a long moment before she sighed heavily, rubbing her temples like she had a migraine coming on. "Fine. But next time—if something like this happens again—you tell me immediately. Understood?"
Richard gave a firm nod, his expression serious now. "Understood. Won't happen again."
Gwen nodded once, satisfied, before returning her full attention to Javi. Her voice softened considerably. "And you."
Javi raised his eyebrows, bracing himself for criticism but trying to look relaxed. His leg bounced nervously under the table, a tell he couldn't control. "Yeah?"
Gwen's face transformed—a genuine, warm smile spreading across her features like sunrise breaking through clouds.
"You did good, Javi."
Silence.
Complete, utter, shocked silence.
Javi and Richard gaped at her at the exact same time, their expressions mirror images of disbelief. Ever since Javi had arrived at this academy, Gwen had never called him by his first name—it had always been "Garcia" or "newbie" or occasionally "idiot." This was completely unprecedented territory.
Javi couldn't find words, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish. "Y-you j-just... wow. I'm speechless."
Richard, equally shocked, let out a low whistle. "Yeah... wow. I mean, seriously, wow. You never call him Javi. Like, ever."
Gwen's eyebrow twitched in mild annoyance. "Is it that big of a deal for both of you?"
Javi immediately backpedaled, hands shooting up in surrender. "Nope! Not at all! Just—uh—really not used to hearing it from you. It's like hearing a cat bark or something."
Richard nodded quickly, though his grin was still plastered across his face. "Yeah! We're just... processing this historic moment. Should we mark it on a calendar?"
Gwen's expression flattened into exasperation. She raised one hand as if to physically calm them down. "Whatever. But we still have work to do, so— "She made a cutting gesture. "—drop it. Now."
Richard blinked, reality snapping back into focus. "Oh crap, I completely forgot we weren't done."
Javi muttered under his breath, steeling himself. "Okay... self, brace for another emotional gut-punch question."
Richard, still slightly reeling from Gwen's rare moment of warmth, managed to refocus. He straightened in his chair, shoulders squaring. "Ready when you are, buddy."
Gwen, back to her usual composed demeanor, nodded curtly. "This is the last question—the most important one. We need you to answer it as genuinely as you did earlier. Understood?"
Javi sighed, his shoulders sagging with resignation. "Go ahead. Hit me."
Gwen leaned forward slightly, her expression deadly serious but not without compassion. Her voice dropped lower, more intimate, like sharing a secret in the dark.
"Do you love yourself? Despite everything that's happened to you?"
Another silence filled the room—this one different. Heavier. More suffocating than before.
The only sound was the quiet hum of the CCTV camera, its red light blinking steadily.
Like a heartbeat.
Like a countdown.
A full minute crawled by, each second stretching into eternity.
Then Javi started to cry.
Not sobbing. Not dramatic.
Just quiet tears streaming down his face as his facade finally, completely crumbled.
His voice came out broken, barely above a whisper.
"I-I... I... I don't."
Neither Richard nor Gwen expected that answer. Their eyes widened in genuine surprise, their carefully maintained mentor personas cracking like ice under sudden weight.
Richard's expression softened with deep concern. He leaned closer, his voice gentle as falling snow. "Javi... why not, man?"
"I don't know, guys—" Javi coughed from crying, his breath hitching violently. "—but I wish... I wish I could have done something for them. Anything."
He closed his eyes tight, tears falling freely now, and bit his lip hard enough to leave marks. Trying desperately to stop but unable to stem the flood.
Opening up felt like handing them a case file of his worst moments—unsolved, bloody, full of loose ends he didn't know how to tie up.
Gwen's expression was unreadable for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was softer than either boy had ever heard it. "There's nothing you could've done, Javi. Nothing."
Richard exhaled sharply, his usual calm demeanor cracking visibly. "Listen to me, man. You survived. That isn't weakness—that's strength. You're still here. That matters."
Gwen stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor like a gunshot in the silence. She walked over to Javi and placed her hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades.
"Shut up, Garcia." Her voice was rough, thick with something she refused to name.
Was the emotional moment getting to her too? She cleared her throat.
"I don't want to see you cry anymore. Got it?"
Javi wiped frantically at his eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths to steady himself. His usual bravado was completely shattered, lying in pieces around him. "Yeah... yeah. Sorry for being such a mess."
Richard watched him carefully, his expression full of empathy that softened his entire face. "You don't need to apologize, dude. Emotions are part of being human. We all have them."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, extending it toward Javi. "Here you go."
Javi took it gratefully, wiping his face with trembling hands. A small, genuine smile appeared through his tears like sun breaking through rain. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."
Richard offered a comforting nod, his voice warm as a blanket. "We're here for you, buddy. You don't have to carry all this weight on your own. That's what we're here for."
Gwen's voice cut through the moment, sharp but lacking any real bite. "Really, Garcia? You're crying just because of an evaluation phase?"
Javi sniffed, managing a weak chuckle through his tears as he dabbed at his eyes. "I don't even know why I'm being so emotional right now. Guess I've just been bottling everything up for way too long."
Gwen and Richard exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions noticeably softer now, understanding passing between them without words like a shared frequency.
Richard spoke gently but firmly, "It's good to let it out sometimes. Don't keep everything locked inside—it'll eat you alive."
Javi exhaled slowly, his breathing finally evening out like a storm passing. "Yeah, I know. It's just... it's been a really long time since I cried like this. Feels weird. But also kind of... relieving?"
Richard nodded, his voice still gentle. "That's completely normal. You've been through hell. It's okay to feel it."
Gwen walked back to her seat and sat down, her posture straightening as she slipped back into mentor mode like putting on armor. "So... we're almost done with the evaluation. Do you need a minute, Garcia? Or are you okay to continue?"
Richard groaned, shooting Gwen a look. "Gwen... really? Right now?"
Javi sniffed one more time, taking several deep breaths to fully compose himself. He wiped the last traces of moisture from his face. "I'm fine. We can keep going."
Richard nodded in approval. "Alright then. Just let us know if you need another break. No shame in it."
Gwen exhaled, waving her hand dismissively. "Relax. The only thing we need to do now is find out what Javi's score is—whether he passed this phase or not."
Richard's grin returned instantly, lighting up his entire face. "Ooh, the exciting part!"
Javi, still slightly weary from the emotional rollercoaster but curious now, raised his eyebrows. "Score? What kind of score are we talking about here? Like a test grade?"
Richard pushed himself out of his chair with theatrical flair and walked over to the one-way mirror, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room like a countdown. "See for yourself. You ready?"
Javi wiped the last traces of tears from his face, curiosity overriding exhaustion. He nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Yeah. I'm ready."
Richard hovered his hand over a section of the mirror.
Click.
Something mechanical and precise.
The CCTV camera beeped loudly, its red light flashing rapidly like an alarm.
Then Richard took a deliberate step back, giving them all space to witness what came next.
The mirror rippled like liquid mercury, distorting their reflections before transforming completely into a massive flat-screen TV, the surface smooth and seamless as black glass.
Javi's eyes widened in pure amazement, his earlier vulnerability momentarily replaced by childlike wonder. "Dude, how technologically advanced is this place? This is like sci-fi movie stuff!"
Richard chuckled, clearly enjoying Javi's reaction. "You'd be surprised, buddy. This academy is seriously cutting-edge. We've got tech here most governments would kill for."
Gwen, still composed, stepped closer to the screen, her eyes already analyzing, always analyzing. "Focus, Garcia."
The screen flickered to life with a soft electronic hum, displaying a holographic interface that seemed to float in three-dimensional space. Loading bars appeared, filling slowly.
The anticipation was suffocating.
Richard leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching.
Gwen stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable as always.
Javi held his breath without realizing it.
Then— The numbers loaded.
One.
At.
A.
Time.
Phase 1 Evaluation Summary – Rookie Division
Name: Javier "Javi" Garcia
Class: Edogawa Class
Instructor: Prof. Desmond Graves
Status: Completed Phase 1
Endurance: The number materialized.
87%
Javi's breath caught in his throat like a stone.
Excellent– Shows strong adaptability and mental stamina. Minor emotional lapses under extreme stress.
Honesty:
Another number appeared.
72%
Richard leaned forward slightly, interest flickering in his eyes.
Good – Sincere responses but affected by self-doubt and defensive mechanisms. Significant progress noted after opening up about traumatic past to Gwen Watson and Richard Doyle.
Self-Awareness:
The third metric loaded.
55%
Gwen's expression shifted—was that... impressed? The class president rarely showed surprise at test results.
Developing ↑ – Now recognizes personal limits and emotional triggers; marked improvement confirmed during session.
Genuinity:The final number appeared. 100%
Time seemed to stop.
Exceptional – Authentic, emotionally transparent, and loyal. Highly compatible with instinct-based training protocols.
"Holy shit," all three of them breathed in perfect unison.
Javi's jaw dropped as he stared at the percentages glowing on the screen like verdicts, disbelief written all over his face in bold letters. "Holy crap... is this real?"
Richard grinned wide, watching his best friend's reaction with obvious pride swelling in his chest. "Impressive scores, my man. Seriously impressive."
Gwen nodded in genuine approval, though she kept her expression neutral as stone. "For someone in the rookie class, those scores are well above average. You should be proud." Her voice carried that class president authority—she'd seen hundreds of evaluation scores, and she knew quality when she saw it.
Richard's grin widened even further. "Yeah, definitely good enough to move forward. You crushed it, dude."
Javi continued staring at the screen, his mind struggling to process the results like they were written in a foreign language. He'd expected mediocrity at best, failure at worst. "I can't believe it. I legitimately half-expected to fail spectacularly."
Gwen shot him a sharp look, one eyebrow raised. "Why? Just because you cried? Emotions aren't weakness, Garcia. I've seen plenty of students break down during evaluations—some of them are now top performers." That class president wisdom, born from experience."
Javi shrugged slightly, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "Partially that, yeah. But also 'cause I'm not exactly the best at, you know... opening up to people. I've spent most of my life not doing that. So I never thought I'd score so high in the genuinity category."
Richard chuckled warmly. "Hey, don't sell yourself short, man. It takes serious guts to open up the way you just did. Most people can't do that—they'd rather die than be that honest."
Gwen nodded in agreement, her voice firm but not unkind. "And your genuinity score reflects exactly that. It means you have real potential for authentic relationships and a naturally strong connection with your instincts. That's rare. Extremely rare." She paused, then added more quietly, "I've only seen a handful of students score perfect genuinity in my time as class president."
Javi sighed, putting his hands on his waist as he continued staring at the screen like it might change its mind. "Instincts... wait a minute." His eyes narrowed, focusing on specific text. "It says here I'm highly compatible with this instinct training. What does that actually mean? Like, in practical terms?"
As if on cue—
As if the universe itself was listening—
The screen flickered.
Static crackled.
The evaluation data dissolved into white noise for a heartbeat before clearing to reveal a new image—Professor Desmond Graves' face, sharp and commanding even through a hologram, his presence filling the room despite being miles away.
His virtual form straightened his tie with precise, deliberate movements, eyes scanning data streams behind him before locking directly onto Javi, Gwen, and Richard like targeting lasers.
All three of them jolted in surprise, instinctively straightening.
"Mr. Graves!" they said in perfect unison, their voices echoing slightly in the enclosed space.
Graves' expression was stern, unreadable as carved granite.
"Listen. All of you."
Javi, Gwen, and Richard quickly composed themselves, straightening their postures like cadets at attention. Gwen's class president training kicked in immediately—spine straight, hands clasped, full attention forward. They nodded silently, waiting for whatever judgment was about to fall.
Graves' eyes moved across his notes with clinical precision, his voice calm but carrying unmistakable authority that brooked no argument.
"Endurance: commendable. You didn't break under pressure—most rookies do. Honesty: improving steadily. Self-awareness: still under construction, but the foundation is solid enough to build on." He paused deliberately, letting the words sink in.
"And genuinity..."
A tiny flicker of amusement crossed his usually stoic face before vanishing like it had never existed.
"Excessively high. I'll have to remind the system that sincerity isn't a competition."
He folded his hands behind his back, his gaze sharpening like a blade being honed.
"You've done something unexpected, Garcia. You opened up—honestly, completely—about your past. That wasn't part of the standard protocol... but it was the real test all along."
His voice softened almost imperceptibly, like ice cracking.
"For once, you stopped deflecting with jokes and sarcasm and started confronting what's been haunting you like an unsolved case in the back of your mind."
A pause.
"That's what qualifies you for Phase Two."
Richard and Javi exchanged brightened glances, barely contained excitement flickering between them like electricity.
Gwen remained unreadable, her face a perfect mask—that class president composure she'd perfected over months of leadership.
But inside, a thought crossed her mind unbidden, unwanted:
Why am I getting excited about this? Why do I care if he succeeds? I'm supposed to stay objective, stay professional. That's what a class president does.
The professor tapped something off-screen.
The display behind him shifted dramatically, revealing a detailed image of a human brain surrounded by luminous, interconnected circuitry—neurons firing in complex patterns like constellations, synapses lighting up in cascading waves.
"Phase Two: Cerebral Instinct."
Graves' voice took on a lecturing quality, precise and measured like a scalpel making an incision.
"This is where intellect merges with raw intuition. The ability to think, react, and act simultaneously—your conscious thoughts will begin to move faster than your physical body can keep up with. Time will slow. Patterns will emerge. You'll see connections others miss."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"But remember this clearly—speed without control is nothing but chaos. A runaway train heading for derailment. You'll either master it..." His eyes locked onto Javi with laser focus, boring into him.
"...or it will master you."
The room fell into heavy silence, the weight of his words settling over them like a burial shroud.
Then Graves shifted his gaze to Gwen and Richard. His tone, while still firm, carried a faint undercurrent of acknowledgment—perhaps even respect, though he'd never admit it.
"Watson. Doyle." He nodded once, curt and efficient.
"You've performed admirably. Guiding Garcia through Phase One wasn't an easy task—most mentors fail their first rookie—yet here he stands."
A pause.
"Slightly dented, emotionally raw, but standing nonetheless. Consider this my formal commendation. Your mentorship has been duly noted in your permanent records."
Then his eyes lingered on Gwen for just a moment longer. "Watson—as class president, you've set an excellent example. Your leadership skills are evident even in mentorship. The academy could use more students like you."
Gwen's mask cracked just slightly—a flush of pride coloring her cheeks before she controlled it. She offered a respectful nod. "Thank you, sir. We're simply doing what we can to help him succeed."
Richard grinned openly, obviously pleased, his chest puffing up slightly. "It was our pleasure, Professor. Seriously."
Graves nodded, but his eyes remained calculating, judgmental, always assessing. "Don't mistake acknowledgment for leniency. You've all proven capable of meaningful progress. Now, let's see if that progress can survive real pressure."
He adjusted his tie with precise fingers.
"The next phase won't be as forgiving as this one. Phase Two breaks people. Shatters them. Rebuilds them into something else entirely."His gaze landed one final time on Javi, sharp and penetrating like an X-ray seeing straight through to bone.
"Garcia—congratulations. You've earned entry into Phase Two through honesty and resilience. Two qualities I didn't expect to find in you."
A beat.
"Don't make me regret approving your advancement."
Javi, though still processing the whirlwind of information, managed a small but genuine smile. His voice was steady, more confident than before. "I won't, sir. I promise."
Richard gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring like an anchor. "We've got your back, buddy. All the way."
The screen flickered violently—
Graves' image distorting into crackling static—Then fading completely to black.
For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the TV cooling down, a soft electronic whir like a dying breath.
Richard let out a low whistle, breaking the spell that had held them all captive. "That was... intense."
Gwen nodded in agreement, exhaling slowly through her nose. "Very." She straightened her collar—that habitual gesture she did after every important meeting.
Javi let out a soft breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair until it stuck up at odd angles. "I still don't know what to feel right now. Like, I'm happy but also terrified? Is that normal?"
Gwen raised her eyebrows, her expression flattening into mild amusement. "You're not happy that you managed to pass? Most people would be celebrating, not looking like they're about to face a firing squad."
Javi shrugged, his hands fidgeting restlessly. "I am happy, don't get me wrong. It's just... a lot to take in. This whole Phase Two thing sounds seriously hardcore. Like, next-level dangerous stuff."
Richard's face lit up with genuine excitement, his eyes practically sparkling. "Oh dude, this is gonna be fun! Phase Two is honestly my favorite part of the whole program. It's where things get real."
Javi huffed skeptically, crossing his arms defensively. "From what Mr. Graves just explained, this instinct thing seems completely unreal. Like, come on, guys—that sounds straight-up supernatural. Mind-reading or telekinesis or something."
Richard chuckled, clearly amused by Javi's disbelief. "Supernatural, huh? Maybe it sounds that way 'cause it's something you've never experienced before. Trust me, it's real. It's as real as breathing."
Gwen's lips curved into a knowing smile—the kind that said she knew something he didn't, and she was enjoying his ignorance. "If you're still unconvinced, why don't we show you how it actually works? A demonstration. Before you jump headfirst into the next phase unprepared."
Javi raised an eyebrow, his skepticism still evident but mixed with growing curiosity that he couldn't quite suppress. "Show me? How exactly are you planning to do that?"
Richard and Gwen exchanged a look.
Then both smirked.
Darkly.
Like predators who'd just spotted prey.
Like detectives who'd just cracked a case.
Javi's eyes widened slightly, survival instincts finally kicking in. He muttered under his breath, already regretting asking.
"This is gonna be a hell week, isn't it?"
--
And with that single session, they'd witnessed something unexpected—something real that couldn't be faked or performed.
Javi had fully opened up about his traumatic past, stripping away every defense mechanism he'd built brick by brick over the past month.
Gwen had shown rare moments of genuine warmth, proving she wasn't just the cold, hard mentor everyone thought she was—there was something human beneath the armor.
And Richard had provided steady, unwavering support—the anchor both of them needed when the storm threatened to pull them under.
Yet one mystery still remained, hanging in the air like smoke from a gun:
What exactly is this Cerebral Instinct?
Is it merely an advanced psychological skill, honed through training and discipline?
Or does it border on something more... supernatural? Something that shouldn't exist?
And perhaps most importantly—
Can Javi, with all his trauma and self-doubt and unhealed wounds, truly learn to master something like that?
Let's find out soon.