Dawn came without sunlight.
The dormitory ceiling panels flickered to sterile white at exactly 05:00. No alarm. No warning. Just institutional brightness that erased sleep in an instant.
Dean opened his eyes and didn't move.
Around him, the other five occupants stirred. Dren Moss coughed into his pillow. The girl two bunks over sat up too quickly, hands shaking. The boy by the window was already dressed, staring at the wall.
[Conditioning Schedule Updated][Report to Training Hall 4-B, 05:30][Attendance Mandatory][Lateness Penalty: Compliance Index -2.0%]
Dean sat up slowly, methodically. His back ached from the thin mattress, but he kept his expression neutral. He reached for his assigned uniform. Gray fabric, no insignia. The material was coarse, designed to be uncomfortable without being overtly punitive.
He noticed the notification in his peripheral vision.
[Hidden Modifier Detected][Sleep Quality: Suboptimal][Physical Performance Penalty: -4% for 6 hours]
The mattress wasn't just cheap. It was calibrated. The System had factored poor sleep into today's performance metrics before anyone had even woken up.
Dean pulled on his boots and stood. The other occupants were moving now, quiet and mechanical. No one spoke. No one made eye contact. This was survival behavior, learned or instinctive.
He followed them into the corridor.
Training Hall 4-B was located in the lower district of the Academy complex. The walk took eleven minutes through featureless hallways marked only by numerical designations. No windows. No decoration. Just gray walls and the sound of synchronized footsteps from other dormitory groups converging on the same destination.
Dean counted forty-seven initiates entering the hall. All Menial track. All Unranked. The air smelled like disinfectant and old sweat.
The hall itself was large, divided into testing zones. Resistance equipment. Cognitive evaluation stations. Endurance tracks. Everything was monitored. Cameras in every corner. Sensors embedded in the floor.
At the front of the hall stood Senior Instructor Vane.
She was tall, severe, and perfectly composed. Her uniform was immaculate. Her expression suggested she had already decided which candidates would fail today.
"Form rows," she said. Her voice carried without effort. "You will complete each station in sequence. You will not speak. You will not ask questions. Your performance is being recorded. The System is watching."
The initiates formed rows. Dean positioned himself in the third row, fourth from the left. Not front. Not back. Unremarkable positioning.
Vane walked along the front row, inspecting faces. Her gaze lingered on a boy who was breathing too fast. She said nothing. Just made a notation on her tablet.
[Instructor Vane: Authority Level 6][Termination Authorization: Active][Current Evaluation Mode: Baseline Suppression]
Dean saw the overlay appear above her head. The System wasn't just recording performance. It was categorizing threat levels in real time, and Vane had the authority to act on those categorizations immediately.
She stopped walking and faced the group.
"Station one: physical conditioning. You will complete the resistance circuit until system threshold is met. Failure to meet threshold results in dietary restriction and dormitory reassignment."
No one reacted visibly. Everyone had learned not to.
"Station two: cognitive pattern recognition. You will identify sequences under timed conditions. Deviation from optimal response patterns will be flagged."
Dean's pulse remained steady. He already knew what she wasn't saying. The "optimal response patterns" weren't about correct answers. They were about compliance velocity. Answer too quickly, you're flagged as overperforming. Answer too slowly, you're deficient. The acceptable range was invisible.
Unless you could see it.
"Station three: stress response evaluation. You will be subjected to variable environmental conditions. Your autonomic reactions will be measured. Excessive stress responses indicate insufficient adaptation potential."
Translation: panic and you're eliminated.
Vane tapped her tablet. "Begin."
The resistance circuit was simple. Pull weighted bars. Lift hydraulic arms. Maintain exertion for measured intervals. Dean moved to the first station and gripped the bar.
[Station 1: Resistance Threshold][Target Performance: 62-74% of calculated maximum][Exceeding 74%: Anomaly Flag][Below 62%: Deficiency Mark]
Dean pulled. The weight was calibrated to individual body metrics, adjusted in real time based on sensor feedback. He felt the resistance increase as he exerted force, then stabilize. He maintained steady pressure, staying well within the visible threshold.
Around him, other initiates struggled. A girl three stations down was shaking, her face red. She was pushing too hard, trying to impress. Dean saw the notification appear above her.
[Performance Exceeds Baseline Projection][Compliance Deviation: Under Review]
She didn't see it. She kept going, pride or desperation driving her past the invisible line. An overseer made a notation. She would be flagged by the end of the session.
Dean finished his circuit and moved to station two.
The cognitive test appeared on a screen. Patterns. Symbols. Sequences that needed completion. Dean scanned the first problem.
[Cognitive Station: Pattern Recognition][Optimal Response Time: 4.2 - 6.8 seconds per question][Accuracy Requirement: 78-84%][Perfect Accuracy: Triggers Review]
Dean felt something cold settle in his chest. The System didn't want excellence. It wanted mediocrity within specific parameters. Perfect scores were suspicious. The girl from earlier had just made her second mistake.
He answered the questions deliberately. Four correct. One incorrect. Response times varied between five and seven seconds. He finished the test and the screen flashed green.
[Performance: Acceptable]
No praise. No encouragement. Just acceptance within tolerable limits.
He moved to station three.
The stress response chamber was a small, enclosed booth. Dean stepped inside. The door sealed behind him with a pressurized hiss.
The temperature dropped immediately. Not extreme. Just uncomfortable. The lights dimmed, then brightened in irregular pulses. A low-frequency hum vibrated through the walls.
Dean stood still. He controlled his breathing. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Slow. Measured. His heart rate elevated slightly, then stabilized.
[Autonomic Response: Monitored][Heart Rate Variability: Within Parameters][Stress Hormone Projection: Acceptable]
The temperature spiked upward. The hum grew louder. The lights strobed twice, then went dark completely.
Dean didn't move.
He heard someone in another booth start hyperventilating. The sound was faint, muffled by the walls, but audible. Panic. The kind that got you removed.
The lights returned. The temperature normalized. The door unsealed.
Dean stepped out. His expression hadn't changed.
Senior Instructor Vane was watching him.
Not obviously. She was reviewing her tablet, eyes moving across data streams. But her posture had shifted. Her attention had redirected. She glanced up for less than a second, and her gaze met Dean's.
Then she looked away and made another notation.
[Instructor Vane: Observation Logged][Subject: Dean][Note: Stress response unusually regulated for Menial intake][Recommendation: Continued monitoring]
Dean walked back to the assembly area and stood in formation. His hands were steady. His breathing was calm.
But the System had noticed.
The session continued for another hour. More tests. More hidden thresholds. More candidates flagged for performing too well or too poorly. By the time Vane dismissed them, three initiates had been removed from the hall entirely. No explanation. Just escorts in black uniforms who appeared, gestured, and led them away.
The remaining candidates filed out in silence.
Dean returned to section nine. The dormitory felt smaller now. Only three occupants remained in addition to himself. Dren Moss. The girl who counted. One other boy whose name Dean didn't know.
He sat on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.
[Conditioning Session Complete][Performance Evaluation: Acceptable][Compliance Index: 94.7%][Threat Rating: 0.02%]
Nothing had changed. The numbers were identical to yesterday.
But that wasn't true.
Dean focused on the edge of his vision and opened the extended interface.
[New Data Available][Instructor Vane: Monitoring Frequency Increased][Observation Priority: Elevated][Next Evaluation: 36 hours]
The System had adjusted. Not his stats. Not his visible metrics. But the attention directed at him had shifted. Vane hadn't flagged him. She had marked him for closer observation.
Dean closed his eyes.
He had performed acceptably. Stayed within parameters. Demonstrated compliance.
And the System had still noticed.
The question wasn't whether he could avoid detection. The question was how long he could delay it.
Across the room, Dren Moss coughed again. Softer this time. The sound of someone whose body was shutting down in increments.
Dean didn't look over.
He lay back on the bunk and waited for the next notification.
[Sleep Cycle Penalty Activating in 4 hours][Recommended Action: Rest]
The System was still giving advice.
Dean ignored it.
Outside, the corridor lights dimmed to evening mode. The Academy settled into its regulated rhythm. Forty-seven candidates had entered Training Hall 4-B this morning.
Forty-four had returned.
Tomorrow, there would be fewer.
Dean closed his eyes and waited for dawn.
The System was adapting.
So would he.