The sun shone bright over Rittersberg as Ren Larkinson stepped off the descending shuttle platform, the hiss of decompression fading behind him. The soft, artificial gravity adjusted beneath his boots—less aggressive than the constant, heavy pull of Cloudy Curtain. He tilted his head, taking in the shimmering skyline of the Republic's capital. Sleek towers gleamed like blades against the sky, ringed with glowing hardlight billboards and aerial traffic zipping through dedicated lanes.
So this is Rittersberg, Ren thought, tightening his grip on the strap of his travel bag. No matter how many times I read about it, it's something else to see it with my own eyes.
To most travelers, it was just another star-faring metropolis. But to Ren—reborn from a mundane life on Earth into the Larkinson family—this place was the gateway to everything.
He'd spent two years buried in fundamentals: physics, electrical engineering, material sciences, mathematics, and systems design. His muscles were still soft and his posture had a faint slouch—habits from his old life—but his mind had sharpened. He had clawed his way from ignorance into competence, brick by brick, one study session after another in their small apartment.
And now… he was here.
The admission exam for Rittersberg University was no ordinary test. Candidates from across the Republic arrived in waves, forming a slow, quiet tide through the university's south entrance, where large holographic signs shimmered with the words:
Rittersberg University of Technology — Faculty of Mech Design
"We Forge the Future"
Ren took his place among the long procession. To his surprise, the one who caught up to him wasn't a stranger.
"Ren!"
He turned.
Ves jogged forward, wearing a modest but clean outfit, his personal slate clutched tightly under one arm. His hair was slightly mussed, and the way he carried himself reminded Ren of a tightly wound spring.
"Didn't think you'd get here this early," Ves said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the nervous energy in his voice.
Ren smirked. "You say that like you're not practically vibrating."
"I'm not nervous," Ves insisted quickly, then paused. "...Okay, maybe a little."
"You've got this," Ren said, ruffling Ves's hair gently. "You've been poking around with old models and design games since you could hold a stylus."
"That's not real design," Ves muttered. "Not like this. This is the real deal, Ren. University. Mech design. Rittersberg. It's... huge."
Ren nodded. He remembered that feeling too—not from his past life, but from two years ago, when he'd stood outside the exam hall just to see it once. To let it burn into his mind. Back then, it had felt like a distant mountaintop.
Now, they were climbing it together.
"I'm glad you're here too," Ves said after a moment, quieter. "I was kind of scared I'd be alone."
Ren blinked.
In his old life, no one ever relied on him. But Ves—Ves looked up to him in a way that was... earnest. Real.
"I wouldn't miss this for the galaxy," Ren said.
The testing hall was a monument of austere efficiency. Students were funneled into individual pods—sealed, distraction-free cubicles with adaptive desks and embedded testing systems. Ren settled into his pod and placed his hand on the biometric scanner. The screen pulsed.
Candidate Verified: Ren Larkinson
Entrance Examination — Commencing
Theoretical Aptitude.
The first hour was relentless. Questions covered kinematics, electromagnetism, thermal conductivity, and structural stress analysis. Ren's mind itched with old formulas and diagrams he had reviewed hundreds of times. He scribbled, calculated, revised.
The system tracked time with ruthless precision. Every second lost to hesitation meant one less to solve the next question.
He forced himself to stay steady.
One question asked him to calculate the angular momentum of a rotating stabilizer arm under varying loads.
Vector cross product. Moment of inertia. Double-check the units.
He pressed through.
Design Logic.
This was his favorite section. Hypothetical mech scenarios. Trade-offs. Budgetary constraints.
"Design a medium-class mobile loader unit for logistics use in hostile, low-atmosphere environments. Emphasize adaptability and safety over speed. Explain your material choices."
Ren smiled faintly.
It was like solving a puzzle. He sketched a reinforced chassis using aluminum-titanium alloys for weight reduction, added magnetic grip stabilizers on the legs, and suggested a modular component bay for swap-in tools.
Nothing fancy. But efficient.
Practical Design Challenge.
"Produce a basic wireframe concept for a light recon mech optimized for low-signature operations. Include sensor configuration, limb design, and cooling systems."
The moment he picked up the stylus, he slipped into the flow state.
He didn't try to be flashy. He used every trick he'd learned from simulation games, technical papers, and careful study. He traced a narrow torso with hidden exhausts, limbs angled to minimize radar reflection, and embedded a spherical sensor array inside a recessed dome to keep exposure minimal.
He reviewed it twice, then submitted.
His hands were trembling when he finally pushed away from the desk.
Back in the hallway, Ren spotted Ves exiting his own pod.
The younger boy looked pale.
"You alright?" Ren asked.
Ves gave a weak nod. "I think. I—I did okay, I guess. Some of the design questions caught me off guard though. Like the one with the search-and-rescue mech in zero-g? I didn't even think about recoil or mass shifting."
Ren gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Everyone gets tripped up somewhere. The point isn't perfection—it's potential."
Ves stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"You think I have potential?"
"I wouldn't be here with you otherwise."
They spent the evening in a modest hotel on the university's outskirts—funded by their grandfather, who insisted on covering their first trip's expenses. The room was small but clean, with neutral walls and a soft cot for each of them.
Ren lay awake longer than Ves.
Even now, the words Ren Larkinson and Rittersberg University felt strange in the same sentence. Like he had borrowed someone else's future.
But it was real.
They would know in the morning.
The next day, Ren opened the student portal, logged in, and stared at the screen.
Admission Confirmed: Ren Larkinson
Program: Bachelor of Science in Mech Design
Cohort: 1st-Year Class – 3106 Intake
He read it again. And again.
Then, footsteps padded over, and Ves leaned over his shoulder.
"Wait—you're in too?" Ves's face lit up. "I—I just checked mine. I got in!"
Ren turned, and for a moment, the brothers just stared at each other.
Then Ves grinned and punched his shoulder lightly. "We're actually in! Together!"
Ren laughed, a full, honest sound that startled even him. "We did it, Ves. We actually did it."
Their first day of orientation was only a few days away.
And though they were two years apart in age, for the first time, they were walking the same path—shoulder to shoulder.