Caelum sighs with frustration, kicking the infernal vending machine that has been the bane of his existence for months now. "Stupid piece of shit. Taking my hard-earned creds!" Caelum shouts out in indignation and anger. Having less than a week before the written exam, he feels the stress getting to him. A thought enters his head, even if he passes, then he would have to go through the awakening rift…
Caelum spins around and sits down on the sterile floor of the hallway in defeat, having already half given up on the juice, when, behind him, a 'clank' sounds, and he sighs again, now in total defeat. This machine really knows how to push my buttons, he thought—grabbing the can of 'Matorex Juice' that was purchased, swearing at the machine beneath his breath. "You fucker…" knowing it couldn't hear or understand him.
Another cadet steps into the hall as Caelum stands and scans him. Seeing a young man wearing the standard uniform, well-kept and ironed. His blond hair is short and messy. The number 634 marked on his patch pocket, I believe I have seen his name called before. Caelum thought to himself. If Caelum recalled correctly, the cadet's name was 'Blancard', but he did not voice his thought to make a fool of himself if he was wrong. 'Blancard' seemed stressed and anxious, with sweat gathering on his brow. As he approaches the vending machines lining the hallway, Caelum says, "Don't bother with this machine if you want something. Chances are that you aren't getting what you want if you get something at all." Speaking from prior experience with the godforsaken machine.
'Blancard' responded with an incredulous grumble and pulled his credit chip to try anyway. Caelum left him to be and made his way to the central study hall of the 8th District School. The hall smelt not of paper and books but of a sterile work office, where cadets study on datapads and enforcers stand by to ensure order is kept. The tables were metallic and worn, with scratches and doodles from cadets long past, but they gave this otherwise clinical hall a sense of life. Sitting down where Caelum kept his bag and datapad, thinking of what to review. We have gone over these subjects a thousand times since we got filtered into the district schools and got placed where our "betters" felt we belonged.
The datapad lit up with information and linked to the ARC interface embedded into him to verify and welcome Caelum back. Reviewing the exam subjects, His thoughts linger a bit too long on the entry for the Rossberg Anomaly. Cadets are expected to know about it, as anyone does, because of how that single event has defined the last twenty years, but not to question the official narrative. The study hall's fluorescent lights flicker against the device's glass edge. His eyes scan the room, and a dozen cadets sit in various poses at the identical desks. Caelum knows he shouldn't waste time here; the official narrative is already memorised for the exam, yet curiosity made him go into the after-action reports.
A grey menu unfurls, its options faded and locked down for cadets:
AAR:
• INCIDENT INDEX (INTERNAL) — LOCKED
• SITE RECORDINGS — RMA CREDENTIALS REQUIRED
• COMPENSATION & LIABILITY — LOCKED
• RMA FORMATION MINUTES — LOCKED
• CLASSIFICATION PROTOCOL DRAFT v0.1 — RESTRICTED
• DR. MAREK SOKOLOV — UNLOCKED
DR. MAREK SOKOLOV. A renowned Scientist for being the mastermind and visionary who opened the first rift from reality, scarring and helping usher in the resource boom, the rifts have brought with them. He stopped working with the Meridian Institution soon after due to "a difference in opinion". Digging a little further than Caelum should've into the catalyst between them, a voice chimes from the speakers. "Cadet Caelum Ward, Designation number 845. Refrain from looking into unauthorised files. A Point deduction will be undertaken."
He frooze. Annoying pricks, Caelum thought before returning to his written notes, and, most importantly, to his approved notes.
—[The Rift Management Authority (RMA) ]—
Founded after the first rift and scarring tore a hole into our reality due to a localised fracture point failure. The Rossberg Anomaly showed that we needed a system to oversee and govern who could and couldn't, should and shouldn't be allowed into these rifts/gates. After the first few expeditions, the people who returned came back stronger and changed. One gained control over rules on localised reality, and another could bend metal at will. It seemed as if the events were happening within the planar realms, granting powers depending on what was done there. This created a more urgent need to categorise and develop a framework for exploration...…
The document drones on, with almost nothing else of note. While it primarily covers who was involved and how the RMA developed their licensing requirements, it rarely goes into details. We aren't expected to know that in the written exam, so there was no point in continuing, He thinks. The thought that Caelum might soon be free from this "Allocated Education System" is what keeps him grounded and going. Most of the cadets have been in the system for at least 13 years; he believed that it was when the badges and suits were created that the ATS was formed. There were whispers that some of the younger cadets were taken before they could remember anything else, or even from birth.
Caelum shook his head, feeling it start to hurt, his strained eyes finally landed back on the 'Matorex Juice', a new flavour, one he hadn't had the chance to taste yet. Reading the label, it extols the fantastic properties of Lizran Fruit and its 50% organic juice status. Giving a pondering thought, Caelum could not recall any fruit named Lizran. It must either be created in a lab somewhere, or a plant discovered in a planar realm, or a gate. The farming charters have come a long way since 'Riftday'. Either way, it's what he could afford.
Opening the can, a fruity yet artificial smell fills the air around Caelum. It was quite overpowering, but not necessarily bad. The first sip of the juice was so sour that Caelum nearly gagged, but having spent a part of his allotted food stipend, Caelum could not bring himself to give up and throw it away. Setting the can aside for now, his eyes return to the datapad.
—[RMA CLASSIFICATION PROTOCOL - STUDY GUIDE ]—
UNMARKED
STATUS: Civilian
ACCESS: None (violations are criminal penalties; exceptions given to RMA badge holders.)
NOTE: 98.7% of the population
█ CADET YOUR CURRENT STATUS
STATUS: Uncleared
ACCESS: VR Simulation/ Training Grounds
NOTE: 64% washout rate; High casualty in the advancement test.
█ FIRST MARKED
STATUS: Probationary Asset
ACCESS: C-class rifts (supervised), allowed to choose a charter to work under.
NOTE: ARC implant mandatory; high casualty bracket
█ SECOND MARKED
STATUS: Field Operative
ACCESS: B-class rifts;
NOTE: First sustainable income tier; basic benefits package; Proven in combat
█ THIRD MARKED
STATUS: Hunter-class
ACCESS: Limited leadership permissions;
NOTE: Charter recruitment begins; reputation tracking activated
█ FOURTH MARKED
STATUS: Specialist/Veteran
ACCESS: A-class rifts; prototype gear; specialised deployment
NOTE: Medical coverage expands to cover rift-specific trauma
█ FIFTH MARKED
STATUS: Command-tier
ACCESS: Multi-team operations; negotiation authority
NOTE: PR restrictions apply; media training required
█ ANCHOR
STATUS: Charter holder
ACCESS: Expedition initiation rights; full command authority
NOTE: Requires special licensing + bond posting
█ SEALBEARER
CLASSIFIED CURRENT RANK DOES NOT HAVE ACCESS
—[CLOSE DOCUMENT]—
Caelum picks up the can again and takes another sour sip. The taste overwhelms his other senses, and he is deep in thought about the trials ahead. The rift assigned to him, should he pass, would most likely be a low-tier accessed gate. He would start praying to a higher power if that meant he would get a usable ability. If he'd fail… then he would be free in another sense. Looking at the can again, both thoughts souring the taste in his mouth