Location: Jerkin Base - Grand Induction Hall
Time: Present Day - Graduation Ceremony
---
The Grand Induction Hall was a monument to Jerkin power—a vast chamber of polished obsidian and gold, its walls lined with banners bearing the family crest. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling like constellations of captured light, their crystals casting prismatic reflections across the marble floor. The air smelled of incense and ambition.
Trainees filled the hall in orderly rows, their uniforms crisp, their expressions a mixture of pride, anxiety, and hunger. At the front, a raised dais held the badges—gleaming symbols of status and rank. Each one was different. Each one told a story.
The graduation badges were simple—silver pins with the Jerkin crest, small and unassuming. They were given to those who had completed their basic training. Nothing more.
The cadet badges were larger—bronze and steel, with a single star at the center. They marked those who had proven themselves in combat. Ivan. Irina. Jax. Jenna.
And then there was the operative badge—a gleaming platinum medallion with three stars, its surface etched with intricate patterns that caught the light like liquid fire. Only a handful received it. Only the elite. Zhang Fei stood with Zhang Su, the platinum medallion pinned to her chest, her expression one of quiet satisfaction.
---
Ivan stood in the front row, her expression one of quiet contentment. She turned to Irina, her voice carrying a note of genuine relief.
"Glad to have reached this moment."
Irina's lips curved into a smirk. "Now we don't need to sleep in that crammed dorm anymore. No more snoring misses keeping me up all night."
A few nearby graduates stared at her—jealous, annoyed, their expressions sour. Irina ignored them.
Ilya's voice carried a note of dry realism. "It won't change the fact that we'll be recruited for heaven-knows-what tasks. There's no rest from here on out."
Jax shrugged. "At the bright side, at least the living quarters will be upgraded. No more packing into that sardine tin."
Jenna's voice was quiet, measured. "Though on the surface we worked hard to reach where we are, coming from a middle-class background... it can't change the fact that those from more privileged families have an added advantage."
She glanced toward Zhang Fei—at the platinum medallion on her chest, at Zhang Su standing beside her.
Jare's voice carried a note of pragmatic acceptance. "The Zhangs are like a juggernaut family in finance. Not only in Crestwood and parts of the State but also in Huxai. She doesn't need to compare herself with others."
Ivan's brow furrowed. "How do they even do it? The weave—the special granted ability the AI awards us—it's not like we earn it. It's like the suit itself decides what we get based on how open we are to letting it guide us."
Irina's voice was bitter. "That's what I hate about it. We don't impose our own will into our cores. We just... use what they give us. Like puppets."
Ilya's voice was quiet. "That's the only reason I even joined. They claimed the chip was essential for my acceptance into the base. I was desperate for a job."
Jare nodded. "Same. The three families' monopoly over resources in the city made employment tougher—even for graduates. The corruption is rampant. Cops are on the Halverns' payroll. The Effexaine trafficking scandal opened a hole in the glass ceiling lie we were always fed by mainstream media."
Jenna's voice carried a note of quiet frustration. "What still bothers me is that news anchor. What was her name?"
Jax's brow furrowed. "Believe it was Anny?"
Ivan corrected him. "It was Aubrey Wynter."
Jenna nodded. "Lovely woman. I heard the Azaqor suspect—Elijah Marcus—used to have a thing with her back at Everthorne University. Don't know if it's true or not. Maybe he is Azaqor. Maybe he kidnapped her. There are so many conspiracies going on at Converchat and Vtube."
Ilya's voice was flat. "Maybe Azaqor doesn't even exist. Just some stunt. As well as Elijah. Just some joke on the entire public. I for one decided to stop trusting anything I see or listen to."
---
Valerik stood apart from the others, his expression one of quiet unease. His internal voice carried a note of genuine worry.
Elijah Marcus was at the Crucible Grounds, he thought. And somehow managed to not only walk away but embarrass both bases. Showing how weak we might be in the process. Just how strong did that fellow reach?
He shook his head slowly.
If my mind isn't wrong—based on what I heard from superiors at the Mysterium clan—this Elijah used to be just a combat operative. Nothing else. Whether he had the chip from birth or was recently implanted... that is to be known.
He paused, his internal voice carrying a note of dark curiosity.
Can't it really be he got the node-grid rune? But what can be confirmed is that the tip that he would be there... word is was acquired from sources about some burglary in this base. And the Jerkins have coughed up heavily just to prevent it reaching their bosses.
He shook his head.
But that won't stay for too long.
---
Seraphina Jerkins stood at the center of the dais, her posture rigid, her expression one of cold authority. The badges gleamed in her hands as she called the names.
"Jax Wiomi"
Jax stepped forward, her expression one of quiet pride. Seraphina pinned the cadet badge to her chest.
"Jenna naea ."
Jenna stepped forward, her expression more subdued. The badge was pinned.
"Ivan Liola."
Ivan stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The badge was pinned.
"Irina Vivint."
Irina stepped forward, her lips curved into a smirk. The badge was pinned.
"Ilya Yundu."
Ilya stepped forward, her expression unreadable. The badge was pinned.
"Caspian Jerkins."
Caspian stepped forward, his expression one of quiet surprise. But as the operative badge—the platinum medallion—was pinned to his chest, his surprise turned to something else. Something like pride.
He lifted the medallion to his lips and kissed it.
The crowd's reaction was immediate—jealous looks from Ivan, Irina, and the others. Some whispered. Some glared. But none dared speak.
"Leo Jerkins."
Leo stepped forward, his expression calm, almost bored. Seraphina's expression shifted—a flicker of something that might have been pride. Might have been affection.
She pinned the Honorable Medallion—a special operative badge with intricate gold and platinum inlay—to his chest. Her voice carried a note of quiet warmth.
"Congratulations."
Leo's lips curved into a small smile. He turned to the crowd, raising his hand in a wave.
The crowd erupted—cheers, applause, whistles. The cheers were genuine. The applause was loud. The whistles were many.
---
Jericho stood at the edge of the dais, his expression one of forced confidence. Lilia's hand gestured sharply—go ahead. It's time.
He stepped forward, his throat tightening. The murmurs began.
"He looks unsure of himself."
"What do you expect when the younger ones are stealing all the limelight? Heard he's a real Karen in terms of seeking attention."
"Probably that's why he is like this. The way he is now."
Jericho's jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides. He could feel the crowd's eyes on him—not impressed. Not impressed at all.
Leo watched from the side, his internal voice carrying a note of quiet amusement.
Is this Elijah's idea? he thought. Well, if it is... it's kind of working. If one downside I know about my big brother... it's that he isn't used to criticism. Especially straight to his face.
He chuckled.
Lilia noticed. Her eyes blazed with cold fury. She rose from her seat, pointing at Leo, her voice carrying a note of sharp accusation.
"You rotten bastard! This is your doing, isn't it?!"
Leo's expression shifted to one of caught-off-guard confusion. His hands rose in a placating gesture.
My type? he thought.
The crowd's whispers grew louder.
"The mother appears to be a Karen herself. More than her son."
"What do you expect? Probably that head of hers is only hot air that she gives herself to lie to herself how intelligent she is."
Lilia's face contorted with rage. Her voice cracked with fury.
"Who said that?! A bunch of cowards! How dare you! Don't you know who I am?!"
Another whisper. "We do. A brainless Karen."
Laughter rippled through the crowd—Ivan, Irina, Jax, and others.
Ivan's voice carried a note of dry amusement. "Don't care if these spoiled families are ahead of us. But one thing's for sure—don't want to be in their shoes. With all that attitude, can't ever imagine being within such."
Irina's voice was quieter. "She doesn't think all are like that. Maybe only the bum categories. Like Jerkins."
—Caspian's mother—stood near the edge of the hall, her expression one of cold disdain. She leaned toward Caspian, her voice a sharp whisper.
"Scratch that. You don't need to seek validation of forced demeanor. I can't imagine you turning into myself if you know what I mean."
Caspian's expression was one of quiet disappointment. He stared at Jericho.
"Feeling is mutual, Mother."
Jericho's hands clenched. His nails dug into his palms.
Something shifted within him. A deviation—a hot-headed weave, a flicker of embarrassed rage. It was faint—barely visible—but it was there. The aura around him flickered—a storm of emotion that threatened to consume him.
Why? he thought. Why is this happening to me? Can't I ever catch a break?
A flash of memory surged through his mind—an old man with crazy, zero-empathy eyes, his voice cold and sharp.
"You are my firstborn. And what I hate the most is emotional weakness. It is a liability. A weakness. Never show it."
Jericho's jaw tightened.
Know. Know. Can't allow any misstep. Any loss of composure. I'm a Jerkin.
A voice cut through the silence.
"Hey, what's up with him? Does he need some tissue or something?"
Another voice. "Probably needs to wipe away the manbaby complex he's hiding."
Laughter.
Jericho's vision blurred. His body moved before his mind could catch up.
His fist connected with the skull of the one who had spoken.
The man's head split open like a watermelon—blood spraying across the marble floor, bone fragments scattering like shards of glass. His body crumpled, lifeless.
The crowd froze. Their voices died in their throats.
Jericho stood over the body, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with cold fury.
"Everyone—can't you shut up?!"
Seraphina's expression shifted to one of disappointment. Leo's expression shifted to one of quiet amusement—a small, knowing smile that he couldn't quite hide.
Jericho noticed. His eyes blazed with fresh fury. He pointed at Leo, his voice cracking with rage.
"You! This is your doing!"
Leo's smile widened. He didn't say a word.
---
The hall fell silent—save for the dripping of blood and the labored breathing of a man who had just killed.
Jericho stood over the body, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with cold fury.
And somewhere in the shadows, Seraphina watched.
Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
Interesting, she thought. Very interesting.