The door shut behind her with a quiet click. Mira stood alone in the richly furnished office, her boots sinking slightly into the thick carpet. The room smelled faintly of old books and lavender polish. Along the far wall, tall windows framed the morning light, casting long bars across the sprawling desk and the polished wood shelves behind it. A series of framed certificates and commendations hung in perfect symmetry, each one meticulously aligned as though curated for admiration.
Across from her, a man sat with his fingers laced neatly atop a leather blotter. His gray suit was pressed to perfection. His thinning hair was combed back immaculately, revealing a high, furrowed brow. A thin pair of glasses perched on his narrow nose, just low enough to allow his sharp and assessing gaze to peer over them.
"Miss Vale," he said, without rising. "Please, sit."
Mira took the offered chair. Either it was too low or too high, but she had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes.
"Is that what you wear to an interview?" he said sternly, panning his eyes over her attire.
"Sorry," Mira replied sheepishly, diverting her gaze. "I wasn't fully prepared."
"Clearly." A brief but uncomfortable silence followed. "I am Administrator Halveth," he continued at last. "I oversee placement and performance reviews for incoming students. While most students are assessed prior to arrival, special cases such as yours often require additional...consideration."
There was no malice in his voice. Every syllable was crisp, polite, and distant, as though read from an old script, but Mira could feel the weight of the word special hang in the air like something slightly sour.
"I understand you were raised on an almond farm just outside of Orland," he continued, scanning a document without looking at her. "A small country town. Not typically one of our feeder regions." He proceeded to flip through several more pages. "Yet you aced our advanced placement test with distinguished marks. Even some of our best and brightest fell short of that. Not by much, but just. I must ask, how did someone from your upbringing manage such an achievement? Extracurriculars, perhaps?"
Mira was caught a bit off guard, unsure of whether he was complimenting her or trying to put her down before she even had a chance.
"I was mostly autodidactic," Mira answered after a brief pause. Halveth did not look up from the documents in front of him, and she was not sure if he had heard her. "That means I was self-taught—"
"I know what it means," Halveth snapped coldly. Mira shrank back in her chair.
Halveth let the silence stretch as he returned his gaze to the folder on his desk. He adjusted his glasses with a deliberate slowness before speaking again.
"Curious," he said at last, tapping a pen against the edge of the paper. "Exceptional scores. Especially for someone with no formal academic background beyond simple public schooling." His voice dripped with restrained skepticism, as though he were struggling to reconcile her resume with the image before him. "But raw scores aren't everything, Miss Vale. True intellect is revealed under pressure."
Halveth leaned back in his chair, folding his hands again. "For reference," he said, tone clipped and clinical, "I hold a Doctorate in Theoretical Systems Engineering, with a specialization in cognitive algorithms and machine architecture. I've published four peer-reviewed volumes on the subject, two of which are required reading in the upper division here at Stellan. So, I trust you'll forgive me for being a bit rigorous in my evaluations."
Mira did not respond, but neither did she flinch. Halveth shifted forward, retrieving a small remote from the corner of his desk. With a subtle click, a narrow display panel unfolded from the wall behind him, illuminating with a soft digital hum. Symbols, graphs, and equations filled the screen, complex enough to make most people squint.
"Let's begin with something basic. In your opinion, what are the fundamental flaws of heuristic learning models when applied to dynamic system forecasting?"
Mira blinked. That was supposed to be basic?
"Heuristic models tend to rely too heavily on previous data trends," she answered calmly. "In dynamic environments, like fluctuating markets or live biological systems, they often fail to accommodate emerging variables. The model adapts to what was, not what could be."
Halveth's eyebrows lifted slightly, but only for a moment. "Interesting. And what would you consider a more viable approach?"
Mira sat straight up in her seat. "A hybrid of neural backpropagation and modular logic trees. I would start with a neural core to identify emerging patterns, then reinforce or scrap branches through said modular logic to maintain cohesion. It's more resource intensive but also far more adaptive."
Halveth scribbled something in the margin of his file. "I see. And tell me, how would you prevent recursive drift in such a hybridized model?"
Mira inched forward, resting her arms on her thighs. "Feedback dampeners. You gate the recursion behind a calibration buffer that only activates after a set margin of deviation is exceeded. That way the system doesn't spiral during noise-heavy data cycles."
Halveth finally looked up, his eyes narrowed slightly. "You read my third volume, did you?"
"No," Mira replied simply, shaking her head. Another long pause stretched between them. The only sound was the faint hum of the screen behind Halveth's shoulder. Mira could feel the tension shifting.
"Well then," Halveth said, clearing his throat. "I suppose we should move on to placement logistics. Due to limited accommodations, as a result of nothing more than delayed processing, we will be arranging for you to stay with a host family off-campus. Your commute will be brief, provided you adhere the train schedules."
Mira was caught off guard. "Off-campus?"
"That is correct."
"But I thought all freshman students were required to live—"
"Typically, yes," Halveth interrupted. "But these are not typical circumstances. We trust you'll make do. That is, if this academy means as much to you as it does most."
Mira looked down at her hands, her fingers curled tightly in her lap. "Yes, sir. Of course." Halveth offered a clipped nod, as though her compliance were a formality.
"You'll be notified of your living arrangements by this afternoon," he continued, sliding her file to the side. "In the meantime, you'll be assigned a student liaison to orient you to the campus. Miss Clara should be waiting for you just outside." Mira stood up, smoothing the front of her jacket. Halveth didn't look up as he added, "Do try to make a good impression. First impressions are often the only ones that matter."
Mira gave a polite nod, though her stomach churned. "Yes. Sir."
He gave no response. Mira turned, crossed the room and reached for the brass door handle. Just before she pulled it open, she glanced back, as if some part of her still hoped for a flicker of approval. But Halveth was already flipping to the next file in his stack, her presence dismissed the moment she turned her back. She gave a quiet sigh as she opened the door and stepped outside, feeling much less sure of herself than she had only moments before.