The Shuttle loomed ahead, sleek and silver with an almost liquid sheen that reflected the afternoon light. Its surface rippled faintly as if the metal were alive, adjusting to the air around it. Rows of illuminated panels traced along its wings, pulsing softly with a cerulean glow. The entrance ramp descended with a quiet hiss.
Inside, it felt more like a high-end lounge than a transport vessel. Without any visible countdown, it lifted off the ground. The ascent was smooth, almost too smooth. It didn't feel like they were moving at all which shocked the passengers who'd never ridden on a Shuttle before. Through the large window beside, Kenneth watched as Caelion unfolded beneath them. From above, the city looked like a patchwork of glass and steel, skyscrapers stretching so high they pierced the clouds. Streams of light traced between them, other shuttles, blimps, and jets darting gracefully through the bright blue sky.
No flying cars, though, he mused, half amused. He recalled how Amir used to joke about them. He'd say: "They've invested millions if not billions of dollars on all this military tech, weapons that could wipe out an entire country off the map and they still haven't found a way to make cars fly in the air. How fucked is that?"
Well, I'm currently ten years into an alternate future, friend. And still no flying cars.
The air outside shimmered with sunlight, dotted with white clouds like pieces of cotton balls drifting lazily across a lake of blue. But as the Shuttle gained distance, the urban sprawl gave way to a sea of green. Rolling hills, and dense forests sprawled below, scattered across the earth, stitched with rivers that caught the sunlight like sparkly diamonds. From this height, the people on the ground looked like ants, scurrying along invisible trails. After twenty minutes of watching the world pass by, he gave the Shuttle one last sweep before leaning back, letting the music fill his head, and drifted to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, the Shuttle was slowing down. Outside, the scenery had changed once more. No more cities, no highways or towers. Just sprawling compounds surrounded by dense woods. Toleran Academy. The Shuttle landed with a soft thud. Alaric's voice came through the intercom. "We're here, everyone. Welcome to Toleran."
Kenneth unfastened his belt, grabbed his bag, and stepped into the open air. After five hours of sitting, his body was in desperate need of a stretch. His boots touch the lush grass blanketing the stony Academy ground. It stretched before them like something out of a dream. Modern yet austere.
The buildings were white and grey, accented with glass walls that gleamed under the sun's soft glow. Pathways of pale stone wound between trimmed hedges and open courtyards. The air smelled clean, untouched.
"Two at a time," Alaric called, his tone sharp but steady.
Once everyone had disembarked, Alaric, Xander, and ten other instructors stood in a line by the entrance. Beside them were four older students, all wearing matching dark grey jumpsuits. Kenneth's eyes zeroed in on the tallest one among them. Lucien Saint-James.
Standing next to him stood Alcione Reeves, a white-haired and red-eyed man who smiled with casual confidence. Beside him stood a tall and dark-haired young woman with pale skin, her black bob framing her sharp eyes. Then came a golden-haired and serene girl with a nymph-like beauty that made you unable to look away.
The new recruits, barely a hundred now, cut from the original four hundred young adults Kenneth's had seen earlier, formed neat rows in the courtyard. The silence was heavy with nerves and curiosity as they awaited their instructions.
Alaric stepped forward first. "Welcome to Torelan once again," he began, his voice echoing across the open space. "You've all made it this far and we are ever grateful to have you joining our ranks." He then stepped aside.
From behind him emerged a woman in her mid-forties with long black and white hair, dressed in an all-black suit and a trench cot hanging over her shoulders, billowing slightly in the wind. Her hair was neatly pinned back on the side, her posture perfect. She studies them with a still, owl-like gaze. The silence stretched long enough for several of the fruits at the front to shift uneasily. Then, finally, she smiled.
"I am Headmaster Rheas," she said. Her voice carried easily, soft, and clear. "Welcome to the beginning of your training."
She paused, sweeping her gaze across the crowd. "You will come to know Toleran not as an institution, but as a proving ground. Here, you will live, train, and fight as one. Now, our school operates a little differently compared to the others. Ur students are divided into five divisions—each with its own captain and vice-captain."
She gestured toward the four senior students. "Lucien Saint-James, captain of the third division, and Alcione Reeves, his vice-captain for the Strikers." Lucien gave a slight nod, his blue-gray eyes sweeping over the recruits before landing on Kenneth. His gaze stayed on him for a second but it felt like hours to Kenneth before looking away.
He felt his heart thunder in his chest, his hands curling into fists. Alcione on the other hand gave a sunny smile that hit several girls and boys in the crowd with love arrows.
Then she turned to the blonde girl. "Irina Agapova and Sooyee Han, captain and vice-captain of the third division for Anchors."
Rheas clasped her hands behind her back. "You will learn more about how Toleran operates during orientation. For now, your only task is to settle in."
With that, she inclined her head slightly and turned on her heel, her trench coat trailing behind her as she left.
A tall instructor with an ash blond buzz cut and eyes like steel took her place. "During your first year," he barked, "you won't be separated by type. Anchors and Strikers will study, train, and live together. You'll learn to rely on each other, or fail together."
He scanned the rows with an expression that dared anyone to argue. "If you don't like sharing rooms, tough luck. Deal with it."
Having a roommate and roomsharing wasn't anything new to Kenneth as he'd had to share rooms with several of his fellow comrades in the barracks. The problem was having to deal with an annoying or messy roommate. He hoped that whoever he ended up with would at least be agreeable.
Alaric and Xander began calling out names, assigning room numbers one by one. The courtyard filled with quiet chatter as recruits compared their assignments. Xander gave him a wink as he handed Kenneth his.
He glanced down at his paper before clutching it in his hand.
Room 205.
"Please make sure not to lose your keycards. You'll have to pay 10-units if you do," Alaric yelled. "You guys can now go to your rooms and meet back here at 10 AM tomorrow for the orientation."
They all started to disperse and made their way to their rooms. There was a sort of contraption that looked to be an elevator bringing them to their rooms, but Kenneth decided he'd take the stairs.