The air outside the academy gates still carried the faint metallic tang of the explosions from yesterday. Even though the attack had been contained before reaching the city, the tension hadn't gone anywhere.
Soldiers patrolled in pairs, their rifles slung low but ready, scanning every shadow as if the terrorists might materialize from thin air. The banners welcoming the new intake still hung across the entrance, but they looked strangely out of place - too cheerful in the midst of all this.
I kept walking, ignoring the lingering stares from the guards. They had probably been told who I was, at least in vague terms. My family's name wasn't something people whispered here - it was something they avoided saying at all, in case it drew attention.
Inside, the academy felt like another world. The streets were wider, the air clearer, the buildings sleek and brimming with quiet power.
Students in uniforms of dark blue and silver walked in groups, their conversation a low hum. Some wore blades on their backs, others had weapons holstered at their hips. You could tell who had awakened already just by the way they moved - balanced, precise, as if every step was a calculated strike.
The announcement from yesterday's orientation echoed in my mind: All first-years will undergo compatibility testing within the week. That meant my gene implantation was coming soon.
My fingers flexed unconsciously.
The family had their own implantation chambers at home, but doing it here meant it would be recorded, graded, compared. I didn't like that, but blending in meant playing along.
"Still thinking about yesterday?"
The voice was calm, almost too calm for this place. I turned to see Lex walking beside me, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the crowd like he was reading a book no one else could see. We hadn't spoken much since the train ride here, but his presence was… grounding.
"I'm thinking about a lot of things," I said.
He gave me a small smile. "Good. People who stop thinking in places like this end up on the wrong side of history."
We reached the testing hall - a massive dome with reinforced glass panels and a faint humming in the air. Inside, instructors in white coats moved between rows of equipment. Students were being called one by one into isolated pods. The whole thing felt less like a school and more like a military checkpoint disguised as science.
While we waited, I caught snippets of other students' conversations. The terrorists were still out there, reorganizing. T
he government had tightened security around every major academy. Some claimed the attackers had been after someone specific yesterday, not just causing chaos. That thought didn't sit well with me.
When my name was finally called, I stepped forward. The pod's door slid shut behind me with a hiss, cutting off the noise outside. The inside was sterile - just a reclining chair, a set of arm restraints, and a display panel showing my vitals.
"Relax," the technician said from behind a glass partition. "We'll start with baseline compatibility readings. Just sit back."
I did, but my mind was already moving ahead. This was only the test. The real implantation would come next - and I had no intention of just following procedure. If I could push the absorption rate higher, take in more than what the system allowed… it would be my first step toward breaking past their limits.
The machine began to hum, and a faint warmth spread from the cuffs on my wrists.
Numbers scrolled rapidly on the display - my compatibility reading climbing faster than I expected. I could see the technician's eyes widen slightly before he masked it with a neutral expression.
"Unusual," he muttered, making a note. "You'll be scheduled for implantation tomorrow morning."
When I stepped out of the pod, Lex was waiting, leaning against the wall. He looked at me once, his gaze sharp, and said quietly, "You're not planning to stay at their pace, are you?"
I didn't answer. But we both knew the truth.
Tomorrow, the real game would begin.
The academy's training field looked different at night. The towering glass walls reflected the pale moonlight, casting long silver streaks across the open arena.
The smell of damp steel and freshly watered soil hung in the air, mixing with the faint ozone scent from the energy barriers that shimmered faintly around the perimeter. Normally, this place was filled with the shouts and laughter of trainees.
Tonight, it was quiet. Too quiet.
I stood at the edge of the arena, my hand resting on the smooth surface of my Thanatos Regeneration Core embedded under my skin.
Ever since awakening, I could feel it-like a second heartbeat, steady, cold, and impossibly deep. It wasn't just healing me anymore. It was adapting, learning, like it had a will of its own. And I could tell it was getting hungrier.
The instructors had told us this would just be a "simple" gene compatibility test with low-threat gene beasts.
A warm-up before the actual trials. But after what happened at the gene awakening hall and the attack on the genius candidates.
I wasn't naive enough to believe anything here was safe.
Especially not when I caught Lex standing a few meters away, casually inspecting his blade, that same unreadable smirk playing on his lips.
"You're overthinking again," Lex said without looking up. "If something happens, it happens. Just be ready to kill."
Easy for him to say. Lex fought like he was born to it, like the thought of dying never even crossed his mind. Me? I still had the images of those assassins burned into my head-the way they moved, the way their eyes glowed with that fanatical, hollow light.