- Sebastian -

  It wasn’t on to have two generals’ meetings occur so close to one another, just two weeks from the st. heless, with the evaluatio underway and the test news from the frontline, all five were once again summoo the NEA Rangers’ headquarters.

  Among the five, worry was evident—especially on the faces of two of them. Sebastian, the General of the Yellers, looked harried, burdened by supply line issues on Olympus. Jason, the General of the Bck Rangers, bore heavy shadows under his eyes, his stress etched into every tense movement.

  “I need us to finalize the evaluation,” Jason began, his voice low and urgent. “We’re suffering too many casualties among the Bck Rangers, even more after the stant attacks on the Half Wall.” He paused, looking around the table at his fellow generals. “Also, several ses of the wall are being protected by Rangers from other divisions, whily heightens s about the fortress’s security.”

  Wiz, the Blue Ranger General, leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “We’re close to finishing the evaluation. For now, what’s the status of the assault to the north of the Half Wall?”

  “The Dardanus forces failed to hold back the atta their own,” Sebastian answered, “but we mao deploy reinforts in time so the enemy couldn’t breach our fortifications. Still, we lost over a hundred mechs to tain fourteen Titans.” He paused, drawing a deep breath. “On top of that, we have no clue how they’re acquiring so many Unique Z Crystals. A few years ago, an attack with this number of Titans would have been unimaginable.”

  “How many crystals were we able to recover from the Titans?” Wiz asked.

  “Only two,” Sebastian replied. “Both were given to the Dardanus, who suffered the highest casualties during the defense.”

  “Did any of them react to the people around them?” Wiz pressed, leaning in slightly, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

  “None,” Sebastian firmed. “The Dardanus tested several members of their House, but it seems none of the crystals selected ahey’ll likely try selling the crystals if no one in their ranks use them.”

  “Damn. I was hoping we’d have a ce at getting another Unique Ranger,” Wiz muttered, frustration pin in his voice.

  Sebastian knew Wiz’s excitement wasn’t solely about bolstering their forces in the ongoing war. Instead, Wiz was keen to learn more about the mysterious e between a Ranger and a Unique Z Crystal—knowledge that might one day tip the bance of power in their favor.

  Quinn, Jason, and Camille remained ily focused on the holographic dispy suspended in midair, its shifting data streams detailing the past few weeks’ worth of frontlis. Nearby, Sebastian and Wiz exged a few lingering words.

  “Any ce Stewart will show up for this meeting?” Sebastian asked, his gaze shifting momentarily from the hologram’s shimmering surface to Wiz.

  “Most likely not. He’s already made it clear who he’s watg during this phase of the evaluation, and the Sixth Division has been dispatched on a new mission,” Wiz replied, adjusting the holo-interface as lines of data flickered and re-formed.

  “Alright, let’s focus on our main objectives,” Quinn said, pulling everyone’s attention back to the matters at hand. “We o plete the sed exam.”

  She paused, letting her words settle over the group. “We have two unusual situations demanding our attention. The first involves a recruit who bent the rules of the sed exam. We o assess the gravity of this infra aermihe appropriate punishment. Additionally, we’ve just received a new shipment of Z Crystals, prepared for immediate Ranger use. We either increase the number of avaible slots by a thousand in this evaluation cycle or wait until the batch.”

  Rather than any of the more hot-headed generals jumping in, it ho took the lead. “I’m not vihe recruit bent or broke any rules,” he began, pausing to check the name on his wrist sole. “Oliver wasn’t wrong. If we examihe directives closely, there’s nothing stating that a recruit ’t remain at the entrahe regutions are silent on that point.”

  “That’s just a teical loophole,” Camille tered, folding her arms. “The timer was supposed to start the moment the recruit selected arance.”

  “True,” Wiz ceded, “but Oliver exploited that gap perfectly. Isn’t that precisely what we want in someone uaking an assault mission—the ability to think of unventional tactics?”

  “Perhaps,” Jason replied, “but that would be unfair to the other recruits who followed the exam’s intended spirit.”

  “It only became unfair after we patched the arena’s ht,” Wiz argued. “Before that, anyone could have tried the same maneuver.”

  Jason’s face hardened. “Wiz, I uand your preference for recruits who challeablished norms and think outside the box. But how I trust someone like that in the field? I ’t even be sure he meets the minimum skill level. Yet here we are, discussing him as if he deserves the top spot. Moreover, his outndish pletion time caused a stir—several recruits simply gave up, feeling the standard was now unattainable.”

  Sebastian squirmed in his seat; he knew Jason wasn’t worried about this. However, he and Quinn didn’t value this type of solution, and with many Great Houses desdants wanting to join their divisions, having a Nameless in the first pce would make them lose a lot of face.

  Sebastian decided to step into the debate. “I uand that the aay have caused issues in the media and with the other Houses. However, we must admit that it roblem that we were responsible for. The battery withis was inteo be exploited, but we didn’t expeeoo find a ‘bug’ with the first entrance. Oliver didn’t viote a direct rule; he capitalized on our shortings. Otlefield, such ing could be invaluable.”

  Quinn eyed Sebastian sharply. “This borders on insanity. When would someone just wait for the enemy’s batteries to drain in a real sario? And another : how did he even know about the battery issue in the first pce? Could he have accessed privileged intel about the exam’s robots?”

  With a few deft taps on the sole embedded in the tral table, Quinn called up a feed from the exam archives. The holographic proje showed Oliver’s unorthodox strategy in vivid detail: him entering the arena, waiting for twenty minutes, and then running into the open field with all the robots pletely inactive.

  The rec froze, and then Quinn switched to aimestamp—Oliver’s first time on the Leaderboard. The recruit was firing at the ground in some inexplicable but effective marapping the Bck Robots on the ground below and revealing an unknown vulnerability.

  “The recruit has dohis sort of thing before,” Quinn tinued, her voice carrying through the and room’s hush. “He was the first to uhe Bck Robots’ weaknesses.” She let that memory hang iill air before Sebastian summoned yet another hologram, this one scrolling through the profiles of dozens of recruits, each fad set of statistics flickering across their vision.

  “It could easily be his Boon—some kind of ability that grants him insight into meical systems,” Sebastian offered. “We have other recruits with mae-aligalents. It’s entirely possible the information was gotten from the robots itself.”

  Wiz’s voice cut through the silence. “We have three options. unish him for this a, ig pletely, rant him a bonus.”

  “Grant him a bonus?” Quinn excimed, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind? What kind of pret does that set for the others? It would be disrespectful to the other recruits and an invitation for others to challenge every existing rule in the exams. At a minimum, we should invalidate his attempt and sider a punishment.”

  Sebastian folded his arms, standing firm. “I disagree with any punishment. Doing so would be a self-inflicted wound. Mark my words—there are plenty of Houses out there who’d love to have a resourceful talent like Oliver. If we don’t secure him now, we’ll lose him forever.”

  A heavy siletled in, each general weighing the implications. The quiet hum of distant maery and the faint whisper of airflow filled the gap. Finally, Camille spoke, her voice subdued but pointed. “What are his best times aside from this attempt?”

  Sebastian sulted his data stream. “His best performance was two minutes and two seds, achieved on the final day of the sed exam.”

  Camille’s eyes narrowed, refleg the holographic data swirling overhead. “So this decision is make-or-break. The six-thousandth pce time is one minute forty-eight seds, correct?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Correct.”

  Camille’s lips twitched into a thin, ironie. “So he’ll either end up in first pce or fail to advao the stage altogether.”

  Even as she spoke, a new projeaterialized in the ter of the room: dual recs of Oliver’s attempts pyed side by side. On the left, the impossible 00:31 run—he seemed to ghost through the course in a blur as if he’d scripted the entire sario. On the right, his 02:02 attempt—solid, petent, but unremarkable pared to the previous feat.

  "Since we’re in a deadlock, I’d like to make a proposal." Wiz began to expin.

  The enerals paid attention to the proposal. Although it wasn’t perfect, it satisfied each of them to some extent.

  "Alright, then we clude the sed exam."

  GCLopes