Lucas was clearly dizzy after that confusion crisis—or whatever it's called—so his friends, who had been watching him intensely for a while, grew concerned.
"Lucas, are you okay?" Pascal brought him back to reality with a compassionate tone.
"Huh? No, no, I'm fine," Lucas replied, clearly disoriented and with a nervous laugh. "I just had a déjà vu."
"You've been telling me you get déjà vus ever since I met you," Artemisa said, laughing.
"Hey!" Lucas looked away in search of the tutor, not wanting to be scolded again for being too loud. "It's not that serious," he mumbled.
"They say 1 in 3 people experience déjà vus. It's actually very common," Luna jumped in, defending Lucas as she always did.
"Hear that?" Lucas said, pointing at Luna. "It's common!" He kept glancing around to make sure the tutor wasn't watching, trying to control his tone.
"But Lucas lives in déjà vu," Pascal argued. "Sometimes he doesn't even know if he's living or just stuck in one."
Lucas had never really opened up about his confusion episodes—mostly because he knew any doctor would just assume he was careless or dumb. He didn't know how to avoid them, but he did know how to get out of them.
"I'm not that dumb, Pascal," Lucas shot back.
"Stop arguing, you're drawing too much attention," Luna said, clearly worried.
Lucas leaned back in his seat, stared at the ceiling, and yawned in boredom, shaking his leg restlessly since he couldn't move or speak freely. He was still trying to figure out where he had seen that beautiful man who had left him swallowing hard. Before looking back at the holographic screen, he pulled out a piece of gum and offered it to the others. He popped the minty candy into his mouth and chewed it just to move some part of his body and distract himself.
"The Anomalous Case Enforcemente formerly known as GAIA is in charge of cases involving mutants, the surface, or individuals with active cores who can't be managed through regular channels."
The screen displayed several photographs of the surface. The slide title read: "View of the safety zone from the north access point."
They showed a hostile, arid environment dominated by orange and gray hues. Vegetation was non-existent—or, where it appeared, it was dry and lifeless, scattered randomly, as if clinging to the last breath of a dying ecosystem.The red sun beat down mercilessly, piercing through dense layers of atmospheric gas, giving the sky a dull, grayish tone. The cracked orange earth looked brittle and dry, in some places sunken with what appeared to be craters or steep slopes—raising doubts about whether it was even safe to step there without falling into an abyss. The fissures were so severe it looked as if only a thin layer of land separated the sky from the void below.
The woman in black stepped up to the microphone to speak:
"These images correspond to the northern access point to the underground world. It's located nearly above us—specifically over Puerto Coronel Soto, which is the place where we, the 'Anomalous Cases Enforcement,' or 'ACE,' previously known as 'GAIA,' usually begin our deployments."
The room filled with hushed, suspicious whispers among the attendees. It was common knowledge that the Military Police and the Anomalous Cases Enforcement were the most parasitic and ineffective forces in society. But unlike the Military Police—who had genuinely earned the public's contempt—the ACE was disliked due to repeated scandals and a complete lack of results over 15 years of service, along with massive financial waste.
"Did they really change their name?" Luna asked, confused.
"It's a rebranding attempt after the corruption scandals under the previous directors," Pascal explained. "Looks like the current director wants to do things right from the start and is reforming a lot."
"And that's good. It's always possible to change course," Artemisa justified. "Especially when there's an honest effort to fix things."
Lucas found Artemisa's conviction about the Anomalous Case Enforcement interesting. As far as he knew, she'd never shown a particular preference for them before.
"Misa, do you believe in them?" Lucas asked with genuine curiosity.
Artemisa looked slightly offended now:
"Of course I do. If I didn't, then how could I give them the chance to prove me wrong? It's not like they've done everything wrong. It's the State putting obstacles in their way," she explained sharply.
Artemisa clearly looked pissed after that criticism. And it almost felt like she was part of the organization herself, judging by how precisely she identified the problem.Meanwhile, the woman that is apparently the Deputy Director took control of the situation amidst the criticism. She didn't look surprised or concerned about the backlash.
The ACE, despite having been founded before the police to repel the Andromedan threat, had recently fallen to the background, carrying out lower-tier operations. This had sparked one of the biggest debates online and in journalism: Is the ACE still necessary, or should it be merged with the police?
"I, Vikta Goryashko, as Deputy Director of the ACE, am fully aware of the public's opinion about our organization and the scrutiny we face. Citizens and even you have questioned whether our faction is truly necessary, whether our investigations yield results or will just be another failure and waste of state resources. That's why, for the past 13 months, we've been working on internal reform to rebuild society's trust and make our ranks as respectable as the Intergalactic Force or the Civil Guard," she continued with a serious expression.
The criticism in the auditorium escalated after Goryashko intentionally excluded the Military Police from the list of "respectable ranks." The Vice-Captain of the Military Police was left stunned by that phrase so direct and passive-aggressive at the same time.
Given the context and rumors that the students could overhear from their seats, it began to seem like Deputy Director Goryashko herself had requested that the Vice-Captain increase the priority of the search for young Aria Schmidt given her value as a weapon and her dignity as a member of the security forces but this request had been rejected just minutes before she stepped onto the stage.
Suddenly, cameras that even the graduates hadn't noticed began flashing more rapidly and intensely.
Once again, journalists had snuck into the auditorium, raising both professional cameras and cellphones. Police officers began restraining reporters desperate for a scoop, shouting questions at random and forcing their way toward the stage. In doing so, they pushed through the rows where the graduates were seated, causing chaos. More than one person was elbowed, kicked, or even had a reporter fall on top of them.
And while others were signaling for police and guards to escort the reporters out, Vikta Goryashko seemed to be embracing the chaos as if this was exactly what she had been waiting for:
"Our operational failures have not been due to a lack of funding, nor a lack of effort, and certainly not a lack of commitment from our members. While my predecessors were strong advocates of withholding classified information from the public eye, I am a firm believer in transparency, and in the citizens' ability to understand what we are truly facing: a massive and complex challenge, with threats that mutate and shift constantly in an environment we still do not fully understand."
The woman continued walking across the stage as if she were deliberately feeding the reporters:
"That is why I am proud to present a new vision for the Anomalous Cases Enforcement: one focused on investigating cases beyond the capacity of regular law enforcement and developing new technologies. A vision where we upgrade, adapt, and improve our agents and researchers who are deeply committed to building a better future for the next generations and demonstrating the possibility of migrating to the surface and leaving behind the underground world, to restore the life we once had before the Andromeda impact."
Chaos erupted in the room at the mere mention of leaving the underground, where humanity had been trapped for over 40 years. Directors, newly graduated soldiers, reporters, and guards looked at each other breathless, overwhelmed by the weight and power of her words.
The group of friends couldn't open their eyes any wider in shock:
"Go to the surface?" Luna was stunned. "That's impossible!"
"My parents literally grew up here," Pascal added. "We can't go back to the surface. It's toxic and barely livable there! and now we're supposed to migrate up there?"
"Is that even possible after all this time?" Lucas was speechless at first, then closed his mouth and stared at his hands.
He vividly remembered the stories his sister used to read to him because she learned to read before he did. She would read their grandmother's old world atlas books, showing deserts, lakes, wetlands, mountains, Antarctica, fields, and cities as the faded photographs from before the impact, one of the last remnants of the world that once was.
His grandmother, who had once been a young Chilean before "Earthling" became the only nationality after countries ceased to exist, had seen the downfall of their era through the news. She often spoke bitterly of the humiliation of going from living in freedom to being confined in rat-like housing. Her husband died of infection due to the poor sanitation of the time, and the stress of the transition only hastened his end. She was left alone with her mother in a society where job competition with machines and automation was so brutal that they were forced into the world's oldest profession: prostitution.
Though his grandmother fell due to necessity, his mother did so out of greater need neither smart enough to study nor healthy enough to work in a factory because of asthma, and only 18 years old. A whole generation failed to receive education; most could barely read and write. His mother belonged to that lost generation.
Both women later changed their course in life when they found the three-year-old twins who would become Erin and Lucas. As humans began adapting to this new way of life, they found work as waitresses in high-turnover restaurants, determined to ensure their children would never experience the same misery they endured.
His grandmother often said that her husband's final wish was to see the surface one last time.
Lucas remembered how, as a child, he would sit around 6 PM drinking tea and eating sopaipillas[1]with his sister while their grandmother looked after them as their mother slept. She'd tell them stories of how, in southern Chile (back when it existed), it could rain for weeks without stopping. Sometimes there were lightning storms so intense that power and water were cut off, all due to the wild power of nature—and that, she said, was exactly what she missed most when she moved to what was once the capital: Santiago.
"His grandmother was in Santiago at the time of the so-called Blackout of 2032. She used to say it was a capital so heavily polluted that it was popularly known for its smog, making the sky far less blue than in the south of the country. She remembered coming back from a long day with relatives at the age of 16, then sitting at a large table they had to watch TV and catch up on the news. What she found was a war declaration from an alien that wasn't all that different from humans.
This individual called himself 'The Spokesperson of Andromeda' and spoke perfect English. The aliens even included subtitles depending on where the broadcast was being watched.
"As of today: The Holy Empire of Andromeda will take what rightfully belongs to it in the Milky Way. The grace period for negotiations has ended. Planet Phattie has fallen alongside Jupiter, and Neptune will be next. War has been declared before the Intergalactic Summit following the multiple violations committed by the Milky Way against the Most Holy Empire of Andromeda."
As soon as the broadcast from that political figure ended, all news channels went dark, while explosions could be heard outside. Various devices like phones, TVs, and others started to explode no matter where they were. This was due to an electromagnetic attack that collapsed the chips in the devices, triggering the massive blackout responsible for the death of one-third of Earth's population: the Blackout of 2032.
His memories and imagination came to a halt as Vikta Goryashko resumed her controversial speech, which Lucas watched with fascination, hope, and tears racing down his cheeks.
The deputy director said:
"No matter how challenging the tasks assigned to you may be, regardless of which faction you choose, whether it's ours or not, I ask that you choose and give your hearts to the well-being of humanity from the standpoint you consider right," she continued. "And if, after this, my speech has touched your hearts and you decide to join us, rest assured we will fight for change and for building a fruitful future where people—regardless of origin, race, or age—can live fully and in peace."
The police again tried to remove the journalists, but apparently, these words were worth the blows.
"We will overcome every obstacle for the sake of: peace, stability, and the well-being of our society. Therefore, I invite you to join the Research and Security Faction, and to fully commit yourselves to the pursuit of justice. Make history and lead humanity's emancipation from the threat that now terrifies us. Without further ado, my dear young people and future colleagues: Congratulations on your graduation. Nothing makes me happier than being able to entrust you with a piece of responsibility for our future, which now lies in the hands of each and every one of you. Thank you very much."
A sepulchral silence followed the determined woman's closing words. Apparently, everyone in the room was too stunned to react whether they were graduates, police, vice-captains, or journalists. The speech was deeply emotional for many, who broke down in tears at the thought of being free again. It even affected the journalists who, just minutes ago, had been desperate for a scoop. And as for the woman's fellow directors, their faces were a clear poem of discomfort as they awkwardly exchanged glances with one another."
Right now, from Lucas's perspective, that woman stood before hundreds of people who doubted her words. Not in a mocking way, but from a place of hurt and pain.
Apparently, all those young people, just like Lucas, could evoke the pain of their ancestors in the face of the humiliation of having to retreat and live in a world where the simple act of living in peace is increasingly difficult and less accessible. Yet she remained stoic, wearing a wide smile as if she had already achieved her goal.
If it hadn't been for Lucas seeing one of the attendees seated in the front rows stand up to applaud despite his seatmate harshly pulling at his clothes to make him sit down, his clapping would not have shattered the sepulchral silence with such bravery. Both Vikta and everyone else turned to look at him. This person, who appeared to be the same blonde man Lucas had seen just minutes earlier, didn't stop at clapping. He also whistled to celebrate the woman, drawing the attention of many others who slowly began to join in.
Lucas's eyes focused on that particular attendee, noticing the silken appearance of his platinum-blonde hair and the snow-white pallor of his skin, which covered hands that weren't exactly fine, but neither rough and thick like his own, tanned like honey toasted in the sun. Two things about the man caught Lucas's attention: an attractiveness from his slender build, and a mystery surrounding his role or function in that place.
He knew the man wasn't part of the academy's staff nor a teacher, as all of them wore distinguishable uniforms. The same applied to those belonging to any of the factions. On government property, it was forbidden for law enforcement agents to dress in civilian clothing, even if they were on leave or suspended.
The woman stepped down from the podium to rejoin her colleagues, who merely gave her skeptical glances and muttered things Lucas couldn't hear or read from their lips. At that moment, the presentation was handed over to a robotic voice announcing the start of the final faction selection. Professor Pavlov, one of their longtime mentors, was chosen to give the closing speech:
"Dear students... no, I mean agents," he interrupted himself awkwardly, emotionally, and with mixed feelings, "as you know, the time has come to choose your path. The one to which you'll dedicate the rest of your lives. A holographic screen will appear in front of you, where you'll log in with your student username and password for the very last time."
The students swallowed hard not out of nerves, but at the words "for the very last time."
"On that page, you'll find a questionnaire where you must rank all the factions in order of preference, from 1 to 4, with 1 being your top choice and 4 your least. It will go: first, second, third, and fourth. Once you've defined your priorities, click the 'submit' button."
On this questionnaire, you may not refresh the page nor reopen the form once it's submitted. Therefore, Lucas thought, once it's done, they would likely be allowed to exit through the designated paths and head to the dining hall, where lunch would be served. The results of the application would be sent to their emails, along with instructions for the next day, Sunday.
Lucas watched the holographic screen pop up before him from a small projector built into the seat in front. He began to log in with his username "Lucas Marilef" and his password "sopaipilla1234." His memory wasn't great, so he always used his cat's name as his password. But just as the form was loading, he was elbowed by a journalist trying to dodge a guard holding him back, and in that moment, Lucas saw the same blonde young man who had sparked the ovation earlier fleeing with another young woman whose hazel-toned skin resembled sunlit polished wood, her loose reddish hair flowing with each rushed step.
He noticed from afar how the Director looked at them with bewildered hand gestures, as if saying, "What are you doing here?" or "How did you even get in?" Then she seemingly received a "We'll see you later" from the two of them, as the hazel-skinned girl pulled her friend's arm to help him escape the journalists. Once they were gone, the Director let out a theatrical laugh at the situation.
Many silently wondered: if these strangers could sneak in, then surely the journalists snuck in the same way.
Once allowed to leave the auditorium, the group of friends checked local news on their phones to see if there was any update about their missing classmate. Surprisingly, the alert had spread beyond local to national news.
"I have a really bad feeling," said Lucas.
"Do you think they're going to relocate us immediately? We could try to coordinate a search group now to find Aria," suggested Tori after reading the report.
"Let's start with North District and the surrounding areas," proposed Pascal. "I'll send messages so we can meet up at the station and nearby."
"Let's just say I got ahead of you and already sent it," Tori replied, showing her phone.
Tori had drafted an email with details similar to Pascal's, so it was likely good enough. But the main problem was that she hadn't received any reply yet:
"We could also ask one of the professors. I can see Professor Dalton from here," offered Lucas.
Pascal waved his arm in the air to get Professor Dalton's attention. One of their technology teachers with a shiny bald head that had reflected even the most embarrassing moments during Military Legislation and Ethics classes. Dalton quickly made his way toward them with a smile and greeted them warmly.
"Time flies, doesn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was scolding Lucas and Pascal to pay attention in class," he said fondly, prompting a round of laughter from the group. "I'll never get tired of congratulating you on your graduation."
The students gradually stopped laughing and returned to a more serious expression.
"We want to start a search for Aria" said Lucas.
Professor Dalton dropped his smile and warned:
"I don't recommend it," said the professor firmly.
The young people were surprised, some startled by the refusal, then looked at each other. In the group, it was Artemisa who stepped forward, ready to defend her point of view.
"Professor, with all due respect…" said Artemisa, preparing to argue.
"Personal searches are out of the question for now," said Professor Dalton. "There's too much tension among the high command, and the news just reached the ministerial level. The Ministry and National Security are about to issue a statement, and we're not sure how they'll handle it."
National Security is one of the entities that oversees law enforcement forces. That is, to carry out certain operations, National Security must intervene on behalf of the Ministry of Defense. They can immediately greenlight a meeting or shut down an investigation on the spot.
In the case of a missing person, National Security is usually not relevant, since this can be managed by the military police, or in the worst-case scenario, it should be mediated by the ACE, as requested by the Vice Director. So that bit of information was both shocking and intriguing.
"Ministry of Defense?" asked Pascal. "Why?"
"Both Pavlov and I think it's because she was part of law enforcement. She's not exactly a civilian. But even as a member of the force, the case should have been handled at most by the ACE," added Professor Dalton.
"Of course, today of all days and after so much controversy, ACE gets a big case," said Tori.
"Isn't it likely the Deputy Director escalated the case to National Security?" suggested Luna.
"Believe me, the last thing ACE wants is to have to contact National Security," said Professor Dalton with a smile.
Lucas's phone received a notification, and given the circumstances, he checked it as fast as possible. It was a message in the graduates' group chat saying that guards had set up a perimeter around Silvamist Square, so no one could enter or leave the place for any reason. They were even starting to escort anyone leaving Silvamist Square to Central.
Lucas shared this, leaving most people stunned — except for Professor Dalton.
"Do you all remember in class what happens when a case reaches the ministerial level with a critical classification?" asked Professor Dalton.
"Contingency protocols are activated," Luna answered quickly.
"Why containment?" asked Pascal. "Do they think someone else might disappear?"
"There's no black or white, Pascal. You have to look at both sides of the coin," advised Professor Dalton.
"The two sides of the coin" could only mean one thing in Lucas's mind.
"They're trying to prevent the perpetrator from leaving," said Lucas, his tone nervous.
The graduates stared at Lucas, stunned, except for the professor who pointed at him with a smile and nodded in approval. The truth is, given the environment they all shared, no one had dared question whether the perpetrator might be among them.
"Crime in North District is real, but that doesn't change the fact that in many disappearance cases, the culprit is someone close," proposed Professor Dalton.
"Even if that were true!" argued Tori, visibly upset.
Everyone turned to Tori. It was true that she was very close to Aria, so it made sense why she stood firm in her belief that they should actively search for her friend. Her face looked anxious and distressed by the situation. No one had solid evidence yet to accuse anyone specifically.
"Even if the perpetrator is among us, I don't think that's enough reason to keep us from leaving or starting our own search," Tori protested. "The concern we're showing for her should be enough to rule us out as suspects. Out there is someone or something that took Aria, and we're being held here for no reason while the higher-ups debate how to investigate, letting the hours keep piling up."
Tori was definitely hurting when she said that. The scenario itself is complex: your friend disappears for no clear reason and showed no suspicious behavior, then you're told the perpetrator might be someone you know, while you're detained in a place.
"You're forgetting something, Tori," said Professor Dalton. "In order to officially declare someone missing, 24 hours must pass by law. I understand that because she's your friend you might be overlooking certain details, so let me tell you now: it's possible they're looking for Aria due to a case of critical desertion or even high treason."
Nobody liked where the conversation was heading, but deep down they all knew it could be a real possibility in the eyes of the high command. Graduates are mainly highly trained individuals with capacities above normal people primarily because they possess a core that grants them superhuman abilities. Just having a "valuable" core among thousands makes you a strategic asset. Following that logic and understanding that the high command doesn't see Aria as a person but as a potential asset, it's highly likely they're not treating this as a simple missing person case. They're treating it as a potential desertion if her absence was planned by her. And if it wasn't, then it's a kidnapping in which her abilities could be used against the government. Either way, public and state security are being compromised.
"Participating in the adhesion ceremony implies exactly that: adhering to a specific faction," Lucas said thoughtfully. "If she's absent, then it's possible she's acting outside government jurisdiction."
The young people kept their eyes on the ground, realizing that her disappearance wasn't being treated as a simple case of a missing person. At least from the perspective of National Security, she was a potential threat with strategic access. Of all of them, Tori clearly had the bitterest reaction after hearing that.
"Lucas, do you realize what you're saying?" Tori said, visibly upset.
She was definitely unhappy with Lucas's remark, so her friends instinctively jumped to his defense.
"Tori, this is just one possibility," Luna defended gently. "Professor Dalton is right! we can't only look at one side of the coin if we want to know the truth..."
"You're all idiots!" Tori shouted. "She would never do that. She would never desert. Being here was her dream from the beginning."
Artemisa looked at her and quickly took her by the shoulders, stepping in front of her. Tori was on the verge of tears, and for good reason. It's true the group wasn't crying like Tori, but they were all struggling with the idea: the Aria they knew would never even consider desertion.
"Tori, calm down," said Artemisa, compassionately. "I don't think Aria fled the ceremony either, but you have to understand that the higher-ups are thinking that because they don't know her like we do."
Tori broke into tears and covered her face, while Luna placed a hand on her back.
"You all think I'm an idiot now, don't you?" Tori asked through her tears.
"There's nothing wrong with trusting your friends," Lucas said. "If any of you had gone missing instead of Aria, I'd be in your position too. I also don't think she just vanished on purpose—I believe it was a kidnapping."
"There's nothing wrong with having your own take on the case, as long as you don't ignore the reality of the situation," Professor Dalton added.
"So, what do we do now?" Pascal asked.
Before anyone could answer Pascal, their phones started blaring with a loud alarm that startled everyone in the hallway. On their screens, a red pop-up window appeared with white text and a yellow caution symbol in the center.
"Zonal Warning"
"The Silvermist Square Zone is under investigation. Any attempt to leave the area will result in 2–3 years of imprisonment and a fine of 10 MTB[2].Discussing current events or contacting outside individuals about the situation is strictly prohibited to preserve confidentiality and respect the process.You may be questioned or inspected by the present authorities; these actions do not imply guilt but are necessary preventive measures for the investigation. Your cooperation with law enforcement is mandatory and crucial to ensure a safe and efficient inquiry process."
"Your identity and presence in the Silvermist Square zone have been registered and reported to the relevant authorities. You are required to remain exclusively in areas designated by law enforcement and under no circumstances leave them unless explicitly instructed by an appropriate authority. Any attempt to leave Silvermist Square will be considered an obstruction and may lead to the use of authorized measures to ensure your compliance."
Professor Dalton read the alert and dismissed it using the button at the bottom, just like the graduates did.
"Well, you did ask," Lucas said to Pascal with a grin, amused that the alert perfectly answered Pascal's question.
"Damn it, what am I supposed to do with the alcohol I bought?" Artemisa protested, pointing at her bag. "Do I have to throw it out?"
"Then let's drink it. Why would you toss full bottles in the trash?" Pascal suggested without hesitation.
"It's even worse to be drunk in a zone under warning," Luna complained irritably.
"We just have to be honest," Lucas said casually. "Say you went to the store before coming here because we were going to have a party, and hopefully the bottles are still sealed. It's not a lie, and we have the chat to back it up."
"They might question the alcohol, but they're going to search the building anyway. If they find the bottles in a trash can, it could mislead the investigation. Personally, I think Lucas is right," said Professor Dalton.
Tori stayed silent with her arms crossed the whole time until the group decided to head to the dining hall. Other graduates told them that authorities were escorting people there. Professor Dalton also left because the faculty had been summoned to an emergency meeting with the higher-ups present at Silvermist. It's worth noting that the teachers were also decorated members of certain factions for example, Professor Dalton was a member of ACE.
Once they arrived at the dining hall to rest a bit, tension filled the room. Although they were relieved that Professor Dalton had explained the situation, they also felt deeply uneasy—and that unease gnawed at them. They ate in silence, uncomfortable in the dining area where all the graduates were being watched by military police. They had heard that each floor housed a different type of person: graduates on the first, central station staff on the second, and reporters who had snuck in on the third.
They were about to be interrogated once the faculty and high-ranking officials finalized the official statement along with the Schmidt family. So it was clear to everyone that the ceremony was now secondary. They felt like they were in a haze, unsure how to even pass the time.
"They're not going to make us sleep here, right?" Pascal asked, breaking the silence.
"It would be awful to sleep here. Where would we even sleep—on the tables or something?" Artemisa asked before taking a bite of her ice cream.
"I've slept in worse places, honestly. It's not that bad," Lucas said while eating pizza and typing on his phone.
"Has Luna come back yet?" Tori asked anxiously.
Tori was clearly the most affected by the Schmidt case. She only spoke up because Luna had been gone for a while.
"No. She went to see if there was gossip with the former student council girls," Pascal said while looking at his phone.
"And she's taking this long?" Tori looked deeply worried after the news.
"It's Luna. That's just how long she takes to do things," Lucas replied calmly. "Are you okay, Tori? You haven't touched your food."
Tori frowned at her meal, nervously fidgeting with her hands. Everyone knew that when Tori got anxious, it always affected her stomach. Everyone had their own way of coping, but Tori was naturally anxious.
"I don't feel like eating. Do you want my ice cream? You can have it," she offered.
Lucas noticed she had only taken a couple of spoonfuls of her ice cream and declined politely.
"No, I'm good, Tori. But you should eat—imagine they relocate us tonight or tomorrow morning because of the situation and you arrive somewhere with an empty stomach. That's the worst." Lucas pushed the ice cream cup closer to her tray, his eyes soft.
"Lucas is right, Tori," Artemisa said. "You should eat something."
"I'm scared, guys" she said.
Tori blurted it out without any filter. Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing to listen. Even Lucas ignored a message from his sister, who was worriedly trying to get information from him. He told her he couldn't reply because of the zonal alert.
"I understand that, as an agent, I'll have to face situations like this—or worse—but... why Aria? Why her and not me?" Tori asked, heartbroken. "She was... no—she is one of the best students. And she ended up like this? She just disappeared that easily? It's impossible."
"Life is uncertain" Lucas said, with a lump in his throat.
"My point is: you all know she was the type of person who has eyes in the back of her head. The idea that she's been kidnapped sounds way too unreal to me, this isn't a normal case, guys," explained Tori, hyperventilating.
Tori refused to accept her friend's disappearance but also rejected the other theory of desertion, and clearly she wasn't the only one conflicted. For everyone, the situation was generally hard to grasp and face; beyond being future agents, they were comrades who on their very first day had to deal with the heartbreak of a disappearance. For them, this wasn't just starting off on the wrong foot — it was like starting with no foot at all. They couldn't even get distracted; on the contrary, they sank deeper into the issue.
"What if we're now facing something we've never seen before?" Tori asked them with genuine concern. "At this point, I don't feel safe anywhere."
Everyone at the table fell into a long silence, clearly uncomfortable in the place, since Tori suggested that if she didn't feel safe anywhere, maybe someone else could be next. The worst part was they couldn't leave the cafeteria. So all they could do was connect the dots of what Tori meant; some got a cold splash of harsh information, and others felt their stomachs turn thinking about the possibilities of what might have happened to Aria.
Tori bit her lower lip and looked away. She analyzed her friends' faces carefully to always hit the mark with what she wanted to communicate. So she kept talking, even though most of them were tired of her doubts.
"It's impossible to surprise Aria with anything. No matter what happens, she always knows how to take care of herself and others, regardless of the circumstances," she swallowed hard, just as a tear rolled down her cheek. "And I'm sorry if I sound like a…," she paused while sniffing, "crazy? Or if I seem too suspicious, but you can't tell me Aria 'disappeared, no one saw anything, no one heard any noise, and there are no witnesses.' Do you believe that?"
A deafening silence fell over the cafeteria, where only spoons and forks clattered against surfaces from the shock. Everything Tori said was neither a delusion nor digging up already turned soil. It was the truth. The whole situation was so unusual that not only her friends were left speechless, even the faculty and superiors were desperate. Gradually, the room began resuming conversations, and at that moment Artemisa patted Tori on the back, who then collapsed into tears from the desperation of the situation, creating an awkward moment hard to break for those present.
Lucas felt guilty thinking that if no one saw anything, there were two possibilities: she left on her own or someone powerful enough took her and convinced those present to say nothing. Surprisingly, the second option seemed more plausible to him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the meal," said Tori.
"Tori, the day was already ruined. You can't make it worse," Pascal commented irritably.
"Pascal! Don't say that," Artemisa scolded him. "You're just going to make her feel worse."
When Pascal and Artemisa argue, they hardly ever stop; their personalities are completely incompatible.
"Misa, admit it: the day was already cursed and everything was wrong the moment we arrived," explained Pascal.
"You should find a better way to say it because you make it sound like everything was fine until Tori spoke," Artemisa complained.
"My gods! You too? Are you stupid or what? Obviously, it's not Tori's fault," Pascal got frustrated and put his palm on his forehead as he raised his voice. "Whether she spoke or not, everything was bad since we got here. 'Couldn't make it worse,' why do you think I'm telling Tori that?"
"I think we're all too worked up; we're feeling bad about this but gain nothing by jumping at every comment," Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose in stress trying to mediate.
Both lowered their gaze with sadness and frustration, realizing neither wanted to attack the other. Amid this, a young woman with dyed hair ran up quickly, weaving through the crowd with hurried "excuse me, pardon me, sorry" as she reached the table.
"I heard something! But it's not official," Luna said with concern.
Everyone tiredly looked at her, making her feel confused by the drop in social temperature around them.
"Did something happen?" Luna asked.
Lucas didn't want to explain or reopen the subject, so he let it go:
"Nothing, just a discussion. What did you hear?" Lucas asked, still sounding exhausted.
Luna began explaining:
"I was told the teachers finished providing the background for Aria's search to the higher-ups, and now they're processing the relocation to our bases no later than tomorrow morning. But the director wants the relocation to be extraordinary in order to ensure our safety."
"Extraordinary in what way?" Pascal interrupted.
"That we be moved during the early hours," Luna responded. "They discussed that possibility, but by orders of National Security they want to gather our testimonies and confirm that no one saw or spoke to Aria before this happened through the military police. There are about 100 of us, and considering interrogations are done in person, it would take too long. So they talked with the academy director about the possibility of doing the relocations tomorrow or next week."
"And what's the problem with doing them tomorrow?" Artemisa asked.
"The staff shortage at ACE and the National Guard, plus the need for a new fleet for the Space Forces," Luna said seriously. "While National Security wants a thorough investigation and denies we be relocated due to espionage suspicions, those factions are pushing for the process to continue as planned. In fact, ACE wants the relocation to be immediate."
"National Security is interfering with the vital internal operations of those factions. At this point, it's like even they don't know what to do," Lucas replied.
"Yes, the meeting was a disaster from what I heard," Luna mentioned.
"Then we'll sleep here," Pascal said. "Let's make ourselves comfortable then."
Pascal finished speaking and members of the military police entered. The youths immediately thought these would be the ones in charge. They began approaching some students to remove them from the cafeteria and guide them to a quieter place; it was inevitable that everyone's eyes turned toward them. The only thing preventing anyone from commenting was that all the cellphones with sound on started ringing with a notification. Lucas pressed the notification and read aloud: "Urgent Announcement: Emergency at the Academy."
"Dear students and graduates: We hope this message finds you in good health and spirits. We are reaching out to you due to an emergency that has arisen at our academy, and we want to inform you about the measures taken and provide official information. Unfortunately, one of our beloved students named Aria Schmidt has disappeared under unusual circumstances. This situation has shocked our academic community, and we are working tirelessly with the authorities to ensure her return."
The authorities are aware that Aria Schmidt headed to the Barrio Norte station at 7 a.m. accompanied by a third party whose identity is still unknown. She took the B-15 subway line and did not register her exit at any stop; her whereabouts are currently unknown.
Given the severity of the situation and the need to maintain the safety of all members of our community, we have taken the following measures, such as closing the academy and securing the perimeter of Silvermist Square until approximately 12 p.m. the next day. Any student found in an investigation area committing an infraction will face severe disciplinary action. Consequently, internet and phone signal services will be suspended within one minute to prevent any information leaks.
Any observed anomalies should be reported immediately to the authorities present."
Lucas immediately recalled those individuals inside the auditorium. This new information about not allowing entry or exit made him break out in a cold sweat.
"At the bottom it says that the application results will be released at midnight and that relocations will be immediate," Artemisa continued.
The complicated expressions multiplied inevitably; no one knew how to break the ice after reading all that. So those who could, finished eating to gather energy, while those who couldn't just drank a soda from the cafeteria and shared chewing gum Artemisa had in her bag.
For the rest of the day, many slept, some charged their phones and played on them, others remained silent, and some tried to distract themselves. Hours passed and each graduate was called one by one to different interrogation rooms, but they were never informed about the young woman's appearance. Pascal was returning after being called by the police, and gestured for Lucas to come.
Lucas walked calmly toward them, where Pascal gave a brief introduction, "Yes, this is my friend Lucas," and the officers responded, "Hello Lucas, we are Logan Anderson and Saul Marchesi, military police officers." They told him he was going to be interrogated and then slowly led him down the central hallways. This place was usually full of initiates, some high-ranking officers, engineers, etc. Lucas had walked those halls more than once, but this was the first time everything felt too empty to be real.
The officers tried to start a simple conversation:
"How are you feeling, kid?" one asked.
"I couldn't really describe it," Lucas answered.
"What do you mean by 'I don't know'?"
Lucas thought about how to explain it better but couldn't. He usually spoke without thinking, but now having to think about what to say was hard. He never overanalyzed or tried to find meaning beyond what he felt. He also wasn't sure if the drowsiness after eating was to blame.
"It's just that I don't understand. Why her?" Lucas asked.
"Are you close to her?" the officer asked, trying to fit the pieces together.
As soon as they entered the interrogation room, which was nothing more than an accounting office, Lucas sat on the uncomfortable chair and took a deep breath.
"Not exactly. We weren't close friends, but we weren't strangers either."
"Colleagues," the officer added.
They both sat opposite Lucas, placing their hands on the table and looking at him intensely, almost accusingly.
"'Colleagues' is a very formal term," Lucas rejected the label.
"So you had an affinity then. She's a pretty girl; do you like her?"
"I see her no more than a friend," Lucas replied.
They put a folder on the table and started reviewing it in front of Lucas. There were many documents, including a photo of Aria.
"We've heard a lot about you," Saul commented.
"And what have you heard about me?" Lucas began to suspect.
"Good things," Saul completed, "but let's not get off topic. Can you tell us what you remember about Aria in the days before her disappearance? Or if you received any messages from her recently?"
Lucas said he had invited her to a party after graduation, near the time she was last seen. He showed the message as they asked, and they began reviewing conversations that were mostly responses to each other's stories on Glimpse. Nothing indicated a deep relationship between them; the replies gave very little context. In the chats, Lucas always answered about "which dress looked better," or the outline, etc.
However, last night Aria had posted that she didn't know what colors to wear. The easiest deduction was that perhaps she was going out with someone and wanted to look nice.
"Did she go out a lot?" one officer asked.
"Yes," Lucas confirmed.
"How often? Was she a party girl?"
"I wouldn't say that," Lucas commented, "she only went out after exams or when we were on vacation. Normal outings."
"Define 'normal outings': drug use? Alcohol? Men?" one asked.
"Normal," Lucas repeated. "Sometimes a little alcohol, outings with friends..."
"Oh, so she was a good girl by day and crazy by night, right?" Saul asked laughing.
Lucas couldn't help but look at the officer with disdain for that thought. Honestly, he found it hard to believe that his friend Pascal would soon be hanging out with people of that sort. He felt uncomfortable thinking maybe the perspective they had of Aria was exaggerated and stigmatized just because she disappeared in the presence of a third party.
Seeing Lucas's reaction, the officers just gave a couple of nervous laughs.
"Well, my joke didn't have the impact I thought," Saul said and cleared his throat with a cough. "We have information that she went out with someone last night. It wasn't you, right? Where were you last night?"
"She didn't go out with me. I was at my mother's house, in the Latin ghettos."
"Can your mother confirm that?" they asked.
"Of course."
"What time did you leave your house this morning?" the officer asked.
"At 5 a.m. From my house, it takes two hours to get here, so to be here at 7 I had to leave very early. Besides, I ran into my friend Artemisa on the way."
The officers just made faces seeing they didn't get new information about the case:
"Do you have any idea who last saw Miss Schmidt? A boyfriend, a friend... Or if she was seeing someone recently?"
Lucas thought and managed to remember something useful. He gestured for the officer to give him his phone and, taking advantage of having Glimpse open, he checked one of his conversations with Aria, since she had posted a photo at a café where the person she was with had a spider tattoo on the back of their hand. Lucas had replied to that story because he was considering getting a hand tattoo due to his core's power.
"This person with the tattoo is someone Aria saw more than once," Lucas stated. "I don't know his name or face, but it's not the first time I've seen that tattoo."
The officers showed interest in this specific detail Lucas provided.
"How do you know this is a man Aria saw often?" they asked.
"It's not the first time I've seen that hand in her photos," Lucas said.
Lucas showed three more photos of Aria, but the person with the spider tattoo was not someone she presented as a boyfriend; most thought he was just a friend with benefits. They even joked about it, and Aria said he was just a "friend" who took those pictures. The officers focused on the photo thumbnail, where the tattoo was clear, as well as Lucas's joking question, "So now you like them with tattoos?" and Aria's mischievous reply, "Maybe this is a sign for you to get a couple."
"I see you're a very detail-oriented person, Lucas, and judging by the number of chats you have, I also see you're quite popular and could have any woman you want, right? Even Miss Schmidt if you set your mind to it. Aren't you lying about how you feel about her?"
Lucas was showing his irritation more and more evidently because he didn't like her. Even if she was almost perfect, he didn't like her.
"Relax, bro. She's gorgeous, intelligent... It's not wrong to be attracted to an academy colleague. Friendship between men and women has never really existed. Or have you felt a lot of competition? It usually happens that we feel threatened when that woman has many men after her… Isn't it that you think she should be only yours?"
This situation was already too annoying for him, but he kept calm because he had nothing to do with her: he had a reliable alibi and his schedules and locations didn't match hers in any way, no matter how much they tried to involve him.
"She's pretty, but I never saw her that way. If you want to know about people who are really interested in her, I can name a few," he said for the last time.
The officers decided to stop pressing on that topic, so they accepted and wrote down at least 15 names of men Lucas knew were interested in Aria.
"Are you close enough to her to say she had no intention of leaving the organization?" asked the officer.
"Of course. She's very committed to all the training and processes at the academy," Lucas declared.
The officers started taking notes in a notebook of all the details they considered relevant, then looked at each other and said:
"How did you find out she disappeared?"
"When I arrived at the academy, everyone was already nervous because she hadn't arrived yet, and her parents gave us the news to find out if she left with any of us," Lucas answered. "If I remember correctly, they contacted Tori Labong, one of my friends, and then the rumor spread."
"Do you know if she had any disagreements with anyone? Or someone who could harm her?"
"She had a boyfriend who's in jail, I think for drugs, he was a common trafficker. As far as I know, nothing has been heard from him in years, I don't think he's relevant in this," Lucas replied.
"Do you know anyone else in her circle who isn't at the academy?"
"No."
The officers began closing the notebook and handed him a contact card with his full name, profession, and phone number.
"Here, this is my number, but we're going to make a request: we need you not to share any of the information you told us with anyone else. We need some confidentiality about what you remember to maintain the integrity of the investigation."
Lucas nodded and agreed to that confidentiality, then was escorted out by the officer named Logan while the other stayed alone in the room. They walked down the wide hallway until, surprisingly, he finally heard a couple of voices in the distance along with hurried footsteps at an intersection of that same corridor.
Those people had been talking for a while, so Lucas caught:
"...what both of you did is still unacceptable," said a voice similar to that of Deputy Director Goryashko.
Lucas immediately recognized that voice, so he looked in the direction of the voice and visually found again the same woman director of the investigations faction, apparently accompanied by another man, who was leaning against a wall, making it impossible to see him fully hidden. Neither of them had seen them.
"Ah, Vikta," said the man very lightly. "Tell me, what exactly could you expect from us?"
This man was undoubtedly the same one Lucas had seen in the auditorium; his eyes were not common enough to go unnoticed or not draw attention. Both were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't realize the police were nearby or that Lucas was looking at him with such intensity again. This person wore no uniform; on the contrary, he looked like just another civilian with a black sweater and black jeans.
"I expected you to have a little decorum, maybe?" The deputy director frowned, there was no annoyed tone, but you could notice anger in her.
As they walked away, Lucas unintentionally improved his hearing while they headed toward the cafeteria. Suddenly, he remembered that, of course, he had seen those yellow eyes before: in his dream this week, last week, and other times when he dreamed about that young soldier. Although it always had a tragic ending, being finally able to construct that face — which sometimes made him wake up crying or with chest tightness from seeing him die in his arms — was quite strange.
"Damian should've warned you that we're not exactly the agents with the most 'decorum' in the ACE. I preferred the old name. Besides, you can't ask us for that crap right now," said the blond-haired man.
On the other hand, his voice was deep but playful at the same time, accompanied by a strong Russian accent that Lucas found very magnetic. Just as Lucas was about to reach the cafeteria, he heard a lighter flick, which was ironic. According to Lucas' memory, the wall where that man was leaning had a no-smoking sign, if he remembered correctly. This man also said:
"Look on the bright side, Vikta. Don't you think it's much more convenient to have us here after all? You owe us a thank you, we're working overtime without a contract and out of goodwill. There's nothing more convenient than that. Don't you think we're the best assets?" The blond man's voice gradually lowered in volume.
The director, with obvious annoyance, said:
"Should I thank you for having two agents without IDs, dressed as civilians, who caused a scene on national television? This situation is way too convenient," she commented ironically and in a low voice. She was so furious that even Lucas could hear it.
Just as Lucas was about to cross the door, he heard:
"Well, the ID thing is more Human Resources' fault than ours, and they never focused on our faces on camera either. Do you think the news cares about seeing two fools who don't want to be interviewed by a camera after the disappearance or defection of that young Schmidt? In the middle of the national broadcast?"
Lucas couldn't hear more of that conversation because he was already too far away, yet he was left with too many unanswered questions: agents without IDs and 'dressed as civilians'? Why would someone do that if it's not an undercover mission? And in headquarters, no less? Assuming it was irresponsibility on those agents' part, wouldn't that be 'too risky'? Lucas wasn't someone obsessed with conspiracies at this point in his life, but it was too complex not to think that everything happening under the surface in such a stressful situation was more than it seemed.
Lucas offered to guide them to another of his colleagues so they could continue the interrogation, but they told him, 'It's already our shift change, we have to go home.' Leaving him pale and in the same spot, he pretended to understand the blatant situation. As soon as he put a safe distance between them, he felt bad because a thought fluttered through his mind: 'They're people too, your colleagues, even they should rest in this stressful situation.' But then he overheard their conversation with his super-hearing that killed whatever empathy he had left for them:
"There are too many Latino graduates, I'm not going to tolerate one of them being one of my bosses in a few years."
"I don't hate them, but Latinos shouldn't work in justice-related jobs, they're lawless people."
Lucas subtly turned around, looking out of the corner of his eye at those men who then continued back to that office. Leaving the young man clenching his fist and searching for a reason not to use their faces to wipe the floor after that disgusting speech.
[1] Fried dough, traditionally made from wheat flour, commonly eaten in Chile and other parts of Latin America.
[2] Monthly Tax Buck, a government-used unit of account equivalent to 67,000 dollars each.