Chapter 13: Big 3
[[Date: Lounios 11th, 2035]]
[[Time: Early morning]]
[[Locations: Tower of the new age, Arisa's room ]]
Arisa's eyes shot open. Her body jolted upright before her mind could catch up, breathing steadying in quick bursts. For a split second, she thought she was somewhere else.. But the silence of the room held her still. Nothing had changed. The same walls, the same faint hum of the lights, the same sterile calm that wrapped around her last night. Turns out It was real. All of it.
She sighed quietly, rubbing her eyes as she swung her legs off the bed. Her hair, short and tousled, stuck up slightly. A mess she'd long stopped caring about. Her shorts had ridden up too far, but being alone, she didn't bother fixing them.
She made her way to the bathroom, her reflection greeting her with that same distant look, one part exhaustion, one part vigilance. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and in practiced motions, ran her fingers through her hair, shaping it into her signature style. Short hair had its perks.
When she stepped out again, she looked more awake, more herself. "Abby, open the shutters," she said.
The faint mechanical hum followed. A sliver of light cut across the room as the shutters parted. And then, all at once, the morning sun poured in. The entire room shifted before her eyes, transformed in a wash of gold and white.
Arisa blinked, momentarily stunned. The city that had looked so artificial and cold under the night lights was now alive. She couldn't help but walk toward the glass.
What was once a glittering network of neon veins now revealed its true shape. A vast, sprawling district of movement and purpose. Hover vehicles traced the air like silver streaks, bridges shimmered in the heat, and people filled the streets below, a living current of motion.
Even the horizon seemed to breathe. Last night's city had been a secret, a mask. But now, under the sun, she saw its face. And though the light bathed everything in beauty, Arisa couldn't shake the feeling that it was all part of the same illusion.
She stood there for a while, just watching the sun crawl higher over the city skyline. The warmth that flooded the room felt almost foreign, like it didn't belong in a place built by the D.O.P. She pressed her palm lightly against the glass, feeling the faint hum of energy running through it.
But then her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since last night's chicken. She turned away from the window and walked back toward her bag. She unzipped it lazily, pulling out clothes. Her usual fitted tank, her black jacket, and her pants that matched her style perfectly. She didn't dress with ceremony, just habit. Movement after movement flowing naturally as if this was something her body remembered better than her mind.
By the time she slipped the jacket halfway and brushed a hand down her sleeve, she looked like herself again. Sharp and grounded. She was just about to check her reflection in the darkened glass of the tv, when Abby's light flickered on.
"Miss Arisa, you are receiving a call," Abby's voice echoed gently through the room.
Arisa blinked. "A call? From what? I don't even have a phone," she said, frowning a little.
"Your Kleidi serves as one," Abby explained in her calm tone. "All communications routed through your registration are linked directly to your living space. I can receive and project calls on your behalf."
Arisa raised her brow, "So now you're my secretary too?"
"If that is how you wish to think of it, Arisa." Abby replied politely.
"Alright then," Arisa said before she started to put on her shoes. "Go ahead and answer it."
The lights in the room dimmed slightly as a faint blue projection shimmered above the kitchen counter. The familiar Kleidi interface taking shape in midair.
The blue projection flickered to life, revealing a soldier dressed head to toe in polished D.O.P. uniform. His cap hung low over his eyes, his face mostly shadowed by the glow.
"Sakarame," the man said flatly. "You're expected at the academy within the next hour. Your Kleidi has already received the building and route information."
Before Arisa could respond, the hologram vanished. Cutting out mid breath, leaving the room silent again.
Arisa stared for a moment at the spot where the projection had been, then exhaled softly. "What if I had a question asshole…"
She slipped on her shoes, gave her jacket a small tug, and called out, "Abby, close the shutters."
The city light faded as the metallic panels sealed shut, dimming the room to a warm low tone. Arisa grabbed two apples and a banana from the counter before heading for the door.
Outside, she pressed her thumb against the slot near the handle. The familiar click of locks disengaging echoed softly, followed by the Kleidi sliding out of its port. Arisa picked it up, watching the faint pulse of light move across its surface. "I'll give it to them… that's clever," she murmured, slipping it into her pocket before stepping into the hallway.
By the time she reached the lobby below, the apples and banana were gone, tossed in a passing bin near the wall. She slowed her pace when she spotted a familiar face at the front desk.
"Good morning, Miss Arisa," said the woman cheerfully, the same receptionist from the night before.
Arisa raised an eyebrow. "You don't sleep?"
The woman chuckled softly, brushing her hair back. "I don't have a need to, actually. It's part of my passive awakening. That's why I was accepted for front desk duty here."
"Passive awakening?" Arisa repeated, her curiosity piqued.
"You'll probably be taught about it soon," the woman replied with an easy smile. "The academy will explain everything."
Arisa gave a faint nod, processing the words. As much as she knew about the world, that was something new even to her. But she didn't press. Instead, she began walking toward the exit, then paused and turned back.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Lora," the woman said with a proud smile.
"Have a good day, Lora."
"You too, Miss Arisa. And good luck on your first day."
The glass doors slid open ahead of her, light spilling across the polished floor as Arisa stepped out.
—-
The streets of Norad pulsed with life. What Arisa had seen from her window was nothing compared to this, the city on the ground was alive.
Light streamed between the towers, scattering into the morning haze, reflecting off polished steel and the glass of hundreds of windows. Pedestrians hurried by, drones hummed overhead, and the rhythmic chatter of voices blended with distant engines.
Arisa moved through it all. Her Kleidi pulsing faintly in her pocket, guiding her path. The Academy wasn't far, she could see its tall white spires even from here. But as she crossed an intersection, a sharp sound caught her attention.
A D.O.P. van stood parked outside a small street side café built into one of the district's government buildings. Four armored soldiers surrounded a man on the ground, while their leader stood above him. His uniform more refined, his stance commanding. Arisa slowed her pace seeing this, eyes narrowing.
"If you don't pay what you owe to the D.O.P., your business here will be terminated," the leader barked, his voice harsh under his helmet's modulator. "You were due today. We've received nothing from you or your team."
He motioned to his men. The soldiers marched inside the café, knocking over tables and shelves as they searched for something. Plates could be heard shattered against the floor.
The man on the ground pushed himself up, clutching his side. "Please, I've always paid on time! Someone robbed us a few nights ago, but I'll get the money. Just give me until tomorrow!" He crawled closer, desperation in his voice. "You and your men get free coffee here every time. So please, just this once!"
He reached too close. The leader's arm swung, a brutal elbow cracked across the man's chin, sending him sprawling. His head hit the pavement with a sickening thud.
"Don't feed me excuses," the leader spat. "We gave you this spot. You pay your dues, or you lose it. We're shutting this place down, now."
Arisa stopped. The air shifted, her calm composure replaced by a quiet tension. "He said he'll pay you tomorrow," she called out, her tone low but cutting. "Why not give him that chance?"
The leader turned toward her, annoyance flashing across his faceplate. His men regrouped beside him, hands resting on their rifles. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?" he snapped. "This is D.O.P. business. By law, you've got no right to get involved. Don't make me give you the same treatment."
Arisa didn't move, her violet eyes glowed faintly in the morning light. "…I dare you," she said quietly.
The street went still, almost silent. But the soldiers were no longer looking at Arisa. They were looking behind her. This caused Arisa to turn slightly, just enough to see a familiar face.
It was the man from the elevator. His green eyes shimmered, faintly glowing like tempered emeralds.
One of the soldiers leaned toward his commander and whispered urgently, "Sir… that's Doragon. Dragon Clan. He's one of the C.F.R. candidates."
The leader's jaw tightened. "…Yeah, I know." He turned back to the bloodied man on the ground. "You've got until tomorrow. If that check isn't in by sunrise, you're finished."
The soldiers moved back toward the van. The leader paused, looking back at Arisa and Doragon. The two stood side by side, silent. "Kids nowadays," he muttered as he climbed in. "You all think you're so damn tough."
The van's doors slammed shut. Lights flickered blue and white, and the siren echoed through the street as it sped off. Arisa's eyes stayed on the van until it disappeared. The tension in her chest lingered, anger still alive. But she kept it controlled.
The van eventually disappeared into the morning crowd, its siren fading behind the hum of Norad's streets. Arisa stood still, her eyes fixed on the last glimmer of the van's tail lights. The anger in her chest slowly settled. Doragon kept walking on, disappearing into the crowd.
A few feet away from Arisa, the man who'd been on the ground sat up, hands trembling as he clasped them together. "Thank you. Thank you so much," he said, voice breaking between relief and disbelief. "You saved me. I should be able to make that money back by the end of the day, especially if it gets busy."
Arisa's gaze finally broke from the street. "More reason they should've just given you another day," she said flatly, but her tone carried weight.
"Because of you, I have one now," the man replied with a fragile smile.
Arisa walked closer, her expression softening just slightly. "How did you even get robbed this close to the academy? This district's crawling with D.O.P soldiers"
The man sighed deeply, trying to push himself up. Arisa reached out without hesitation, lifting him effortlessly by the arm. Her strength startled him. There was grace in her motion, but undeniable power too.
"It wasn't that," he said after a pause. "It was for my boy. He had a brain tumor. I had to choose.. Pay for his treatment or pay the lease to the D.O.P."
His voice cracked, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "Can you blame me?"
Arisa froze. For a moment, she couldn't speak. Her jaw tensed, her lips trembling slightly. Beneath all her anger and composure, she felt something raw. Finally, she exhaled, her voice low. "No… I can't."
She stepped back, eyes softening but her tone firm. "Get yourself patched up. You'll need your strength to get back to work." Without another word, she turned away and began walking down the street.
"I didn't get your name!" the man called out after her.
Arisa didn't respond. Her pace never slowed; she simply kept walking.
"Thank you!" he shouted again.
Arisa's figure disappeared into the crowd, her dark hair catching the morning light for only a moment before she was gone.
The man stood there, blood drying at the corner of his mouth. A young boy suddenly ran up and wrapped his arms around him. "Dad!"
He smiled weakly, holding his son close as two coworkers rushed over to help him inside. The hum of Norad returned, as if nothing had happened.
[Location: Norad, District 5, D.O.P Academy]
Arisa walked through the wide glass gates of the Academy District, her boots echoing faintly against the polished street. The place felt like a city within a city, sleek buildings of dark alloy and neon edges curved upward around her, their surfaces pulsing faintly with energy veins that resembled living circuitry.
Young recruits filled the campus walkways, each dressed in varying degrees of regulation attire. Some sparred in the open squares where the floor panels glowed faintly beneath their feet, training fields that adjusted gravity and pressure on command. Others stood in clusters, holographic projectors circling them as they studied schematics of D.O.P. combat suits or drone formations.
Across a skybridge, a group of recruits tested their awakenings under supervision. One student levitating small shards of metal, another bending faint streams of light into the air like silk threads. There was laughter, focus, and a constant hum of machinery mixed with human ambition.
Arisa took it all in silently. Every hologram, every face. These people were tools, weapons in the making. She walked on, her eyes shifting from one building to the next as the academy's central spire loomed ahead, gleaming like a spear through the heart of the morning light.
The closer she got, the fewer people there were. The chatter faded into the low hum of the district's wind channels, the artificial breeze flowing softly between the tall structures. The academy's design shifted too, less color, more precision. Walls of brushed steel, black glass, and holographic sigils that marked high security access. Finally, Arisa reached a crossway. A glowing sign projected mid air in front of her. That read "STOP: VEHICLE PRIORITY ROUTE"
The street before her pulsed with soft blue lines as sleek, driverless cars passed silently in intervals. She stopped at the curb, standing still. The wind brushed past her hair, carrying faint sounds of distant engines and murmurs.
To her right, someone else was waiting, Doragon. He stood a few feet away, dressed in his standard black attire. Fitted, clean, unbothered by the breeze. The green streaks in his hair caught the sun faintly, giving him a quiet glow against the city's cold palette.
Neither spoke. For a long moment, the only sounds were the hum of the vehicles, the flicker of the holographic traffic sign, and the faint crackle of energy flowing through the academy's walls around them.
They both stood looking forward, toward the same building. In their reflections on the polished street, their postures mirrored each other almost perfectly. Her violet eyes, and his green. Shared the same expression, determination.
The light flicked from red to blue, signaling it was safe to cross. Without a word, both stepped forward at the same time.. Arisa and Doragon entered through the main corridor of the academy building, the heavy glass doors sealing shut behind them with a quiet hiss. The interior was colder than outside, sterile white walls lined with faint light veins pulsing like veins of energy. The hum of distant machinery reverberated through the metallic floor beneath their steps.
They walked past long stretches of hallway where holographic panels displayed D.O.P. insignias and data feeds of mission logs, performance metrics, and the occasional grainy image of past D.O.P. Members. The air felt heavy, with the weight of history and expectation.
Eventually, they reached an open space that looked more like a chamber than a classroom. Six wide rows of seats rose in staggered tiers, forming a half circle around a raised platform at the center. Above the platform, soft white light streamed down like a spotlight, illuminating a single terminal stand. Sleek and metallic.
Only two people were already seated. One man leaned back with his arms crossed, sharp eyed and restless. The other sat forward, posture perfect, reading data from a floating hologram that flickered faintly in front of his hand.
Arisa's gaze barely lingered on them. Her attention was fixed forward, her steps deliberate and quiet as she took a seat in the first row. The polished metal of the chair was cold beneath her palms, grounding her in the moment.
Doragon moved past her without a word, walking up the steps until he reached the top row. He sat at the far end, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked on the empty stand at the center.
The room fell awkwardly still. No sounds but the faint hum of the lights above and the distant whisper of the ventilation system. Four figures separated by silence, united by uncertainty.
Arisa leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms as her violet eyes studied the stand ahead. She didn't know who would appear, what kind of briefing this was supposed to be, or if this was just another D.O.P. test
Doragon exhaled slowly from the top row, his expression calm. For now, they all waited. Each sitting in their own silence as the room's tension seemed to breathe with them.
But it soon broke with a soft mechanical hiss. It was the sound of the main doors unlocking. Every head turned. From the light of the hallway, a figure stepped in. Slow. Calm. The kind of composure that made silence feel heavier.
She had long, straight blonde hair that fell in precise strands, catching the white light above. The hair ran down along her cheeks, stopping just at her chest. A black snapback rested low on her head, shadowing her gaze. But not enough to hide those piercing, sky blue eyes. They were sharp and focused.
A jagged burn scar ran from beneath her right eye, carving a pale red line down her cheek, over her neck, and disappearing beneath her collarbone. It was old, healed, but unmistakably brutal. A mark that didn't fade, only quieted over time.
She wore a plain white t-shirt and fitted black joggers, simple yet perfectly cut to her form. On her feet were high top shoes, black with faint white accents that reflected the room's light. But the detail that struck everyone, she had only one arm.
Her right sleeve hung hollow and empty at her side, swaying faintly as she walked. The missing limb and the scar seemed connected, pieces of a violent story. But despite the loss, she carried herself like someone complete.
Her remaining hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sword at her hip. A katana, but unlike any standard issue D.O.P. weapon. The metal shimmered with faint white and black veins pulsing through its scabbard, as though alive. Yet her hand wasn't gripping it, just resting.
She walked past without a word, each step echoing faintly across the metal floor. Arisa followed her with her eyes, studying the burn, the missing arm, the quiet authority that radiated from her.
The stranger stopped one row above Arisa and took a seat near the center. She sat with a straight posture, neither defensive nor relaxed, just balanced.
For a few seconds, the others kept watching her, but one by one they turned their eyes forward again, unwilling to challenge her aura. The silence returned, deeper this time. Not empty, but filled with curiosity and respect.
Arisa leaned back slightly, her expression calm, but her violet eyes lingered just a moment longer on the woman. She seemed to be the only one willing to break the quiet.
"That's strange," Arisa said, her tone casual but edged with curiosity. "I read only two females made it into the program. And I already met the other… there's supposed to be someone else in your place."
The woman turned her head, her eyes calm and steady. "I killed him," she said flatly. Her voice was low, controlled. Not boastful, not regretful, just the truth.
Arisa tilted her head slightly, unfazed. "Hm… and is that how you got that scar?"
The woman gave a faint shake of her head. "No," she said quietly. "It was from the Eniyako."
The word struck the air like a blade against metal. All four candidates shifted. Subtle, but noticeable. Arisa's expression hardened instantly, that name hitting something deep inside her. But she wasn't the only one. Another candidate, one of the men originally here. Also reacted. The atmosphere in the room changed.
But before anything else could be said the main doors opened again. The sound of the lock and the echoing footsteps cutting through the thick silence like a command.
The doors slammed open and a line of soldiers poured in, armor sleek and black, tuned more for speed than ceremony. Blue accents traced the plates like circuit paths. They swept the room with scanners, eyes sweeping over each candidate before forming a rigid line and falling back to attention.
A man followed them in. Tall, dark blue hair. Cropped to a medium length. His armor matched the soldiers, lightweight, technical. But his face was half hidden by a mask that stopped just above his nose, only the bridge and eyes were visible. Those eyes were dark blue, cool and precise. Stenciled across the back of his armor in bold type was a single word, COMMANDER.
He stepped up onto the platform in the center and planted himself there, hands folded behind his back. When he spoke, the voice was low and metallic, the mouthguard lighting with each syllable. "You may leave us now," he said to the soldiers.
They melted away, still scanning, then filed out in ordered silence. The commander turned to the room, standing like a black spear planted in white light.
"My name is Dawn," he said. "I am one of the ten Commanders of the D.O.P, and for this branch of the C.F.R, I will be your instructor."
He looked over them with a measured gaze. "For our safety, we split the twelve candidates into two branches, six with me, six with Commander Ronnie. I'm sure some of you are familiar with him." He paused, then scanned the room again, noting the absence of one candidate but choosing to move on. "I believe I can handle all five of you. But adding another of your caliber is a risk we cannot afford," he continued, his confidence absolute, his eyes never wavered from any face in the hall.
Then his gaze landed on Arisa. The tone changed, not hostile, but pointed. "And I am not Ronnie," he said. "I won't let morals hold me back from delivering justice."
The implication sat heavy in the air. Dawn knew of whatever had happened. Arisa met his stare and said nothing. She could tell, by the steel behind his voice, that he was dangerous in a different way. discipline worn like armor. He would be her instructor now.
Dawn resumed, voice crisp and methodical. "We take these precautions because you are not yet part of the D.O.P, and the C.F.R program does not strictly benefit us. If you ask me, it's a contingency, the D.O.P preparing for unknown threats."
He let the lesson widen, painting the world around them. "There are five regions in our world. The D.O.P controls three. The Eniyako control the other two. Each D.O.P held region is governed by a powerful individual, rulers who act as intermediaries between the D.O.P and the populace. We grant them autonomy in exchange for cooperation. In short, the D.O.P keeps powerful people on its side."
Dawn's voice hardened a fraction. "Instead of waiting for a random threat to appear. Someone who might be friend or foe, General Tenshi created the C.F.R. The program scouts potential rulers early. You still have years of training ahead. Do not mistake opportunity for impunity. If you attempt anything foolish, be assured we have precautions ready."
He outlined the structure plainly. "You will operate in teams of three. Each of you will be placed into one of four teams across two branches. The teams will be announced shortly via hologram. That is today's briefing."
His tone shifted to orders. "For now, you will remain on academy grounds for the next two hours. You will be monitored. Get to know the faces of your team. These are people you'll likely work with for a long time. That is your assignment for today"
With that, Commander Dawn stepped down from the platform and left as decisively as he had entered, his boots swallowing the acoustics of the hall. The room remained, but the air had shifted, heavy with questions, strategy, and the dawning weight of what they'd just been told.
They all looked around, waiting, the silence alive with quiet anticipation. Every candidate's mind ran the same thought, who would I be paired with?
After a few tense moments, the air shimmered. A hologram flickered to life at the front of the room, projecting the image of the same D.O.P soldier who had spoken to Arisa back at the tower, the one with the low cap shadowing his eyes.
"For the first group," the hologram announced, his tone flat and professional. The projection shifted, forming into the image of the blonde woman with one arm, the same one who had entered moments earlier.
"Yani," the soldier's voice echoed.
The hologram shifted again, this time revealing a man with long, scrubby black hair. The top half was pulled into a loose knot behind his head, but one distinct blue strand hung down across his face on the right side. His eyes were a dark black, posture was calm. But something about him tugged at Arisa's memory. He looked… familiar.
"Yasukia," the soldier said.
The name hung heavy in the air. Arisa's eyes widened slightly. Yasukia… She's heard that name before. Long ago. Her mind raced, but before the thought could take form, the hologram changed again.
A new image appeared. Another man, this one with sharp, almost immaculate features. Sleek brown hair combed cleanly back, no stray strand in sight. He had that calm, effortless allure. Pretty boy perfection, but what caught Arisa's eye most were his irises. Like Doragon, they were green… but darker, deeper, and speckled with tiny white flecks that shimmered like distant stars. As if an entire galaxy lived within his eyes. Around his neck, a thin gold collar glimmered faintly, humming with energy.
"Z-Gem," the soldier announced.
The hologram paused, then rearranged the three figures side by side. Yani, Yasukia, Z-Gem. Text materialized below them, GROUP ONE
The hologram's light pulsed softly, casting ghostly reflections across the candidates' faces. The first team was complete.
Yasukia and Z-Gem were the two men who had been in the room long before Arisa and Doragon arrived. Their eyes locked briefly, tension humming between them. While Yani sat perfectly still, posture composed.
The soldier's hologram flickered back to life. "And for Group Two…"
The room seemed to hold its breath. Arisa's pulse steadied, she knew whoever appeared next would be more than teammates. They'd be tied together for a long time. The hologram shifted again, and suddenly her face filled the light. An image captured from the battle aboard Ronnie's ship, Arisa standing over him.
"Arisa," the soldier's voice announced.
Across the room, Yasukia's head tilted slightly. He'd been watching silently until now, but the name pulled a flicker of recognition, similar to how Arisa reacted to his name. The hologram shimmered once more, now showing Doragon. In the image, his face was tense, sharp, anger just barely held beneath control.
"Doragon," the soldier continued.
And then, one last image began to form, though it barely revealed anything. Only the lower half of a woman's face, a glimpse of her cleavage, and that unmistakable smirk. The photo had clearly been taken by surprise, and whoever took it didn't stay far from her reach.
"Ericn—" the soldier began, but before he could finish.The doors burst open.
"Why the hell did they make the briefing so early?" came a familiar voice, playful and unapologetic. "A girl's gotta get pretty, you know."
Ericna's tone filled the room before she even stepped inside. When she did, all eyes turned to her. Her confidence seemed to shift the air itself. Arisa wasn't the only one who felt it, everyone there knew who she was.
Ericna took her time, one hand resting on her hip as she scanned the rows of faces. Her steps were slow, deliberate. A smirk tugged at her lips, half charm, half challenge. And when her gaze finally landed on Arisa, that smirk turned into her signature grin. The same playful, eerie smile that always hinted at danger and amusement in equal measure.. Behind her, the hologram finalized its projection.
Three figures stood side by side, Arisa. Doragon. Ericna. Text pulsed beneath them. GROUP TWO
Arisa glanced from the glowing names to Ericna herself, who met her stare without hesitation. "We're gonna be the big three~," Ericna purred, her voice dripping with confidence and mischief.
The light from the hologram washed over them, painting their faces in blue and gold. The new era of the D.O.P had truly begun.
Chapter 13: Big 3
END