The stage remained active.
Another student stepped down, holding a sealed envelope and blinking fast, trying not to tear up.
He’d been offered a position in a beast language research lab, sothing no one expected. His test scores had been average.
But a staffer had seen footage of him calming a berserk creature just long enough for others to escape.
The recruitnts continued.
A girl from a coastal school who used glass shards and mist to disrupt pursuit patterns was offered a scholarship by a stealth tactics institute.
A quiet, broad-shouldered boy whose ability was limited to minor strength enhancents was picked by a mid-tier rescue academy after he’d carried two injured students for almost two kiloters during the last phase.
Another team offer was given to a trio of siblings who moved through the riot like a pack. Not flashy, not fast, but effective. They were picked up by a logistics university known for building an elite support corps.
As the nas continued to be called, the crowd’s energy shifted.
The early formality was fading. It wasn’t just clapping now. Students were paying attention—leaning forward, whispering nas to each other, taking quiet notes.
So of the schools were unfamiliar to them, but the offers were substantial.
Several recruiters began to look less polished, more focused.
A man from the Caldon Spire University rose and requested a halt. It wasn’t dramatic, just enough to ask the host to give him a few monts with the review list.
He scrolled through it, narrowed his eyes, and then pointed at a na near the bottom.
He lifted his hand. "Candidate 7221."
There was a delay before the na was recognized.
Then, toward the back, a boy stood. He was small, with a limp in both legs. No one rembered seeing him during the opening scenes of the riot. But as he moved forward, the recruiter continued.
"This student used a minor auditory skill—barely rank D—to mimic the sounds of specific beasts and redirect several stampedes away from isolated groups. No confird kills. But twelve students avoided death because of him."
The hall went still.
The boy reached the stage.
"For this, we offer a seat in our best communication division. Full housing. Three-year waiver. ntorship."
The boy bowed, voice soft. "Thank you."
When he walked back, there were no whispers—just a lot of blinking eyes.
They hadn’t expected these kinds of stories.
And yet, more followed.
A girl with thick braids who had wrapped her uniform sleeves in herbs to misdirect scent trails. She wasn’t a combatant. But she’d saved six first-years.
A boy who couldn’t speak but used his drawing skills to map beast patterns on the walls of a ruined structure, helping his group avoid major threats.
A solo student who set off all the zone’s old traps just by sprinting ahead and triggering them, allowing others to walk through safely. He ca out barely conscious. But he made it.
Each one called.
Each one offered a place.
But through all of this, Astralis remained silent.
The instructor’s gaze never wandered. Her hands remained folded. Her posture never slouched.
She didn’t even look down at her file once. She watched the students, she watched the stage. But not a single word ca from her.
By now, even the host had noticed.
Between one of the offers, he glanced down the row toward her seat. His eyes lingered for a breath longer than normal. Then he looked away.
Other recruiters had stopped pretending, as they were watching her too.
A few of the smaller academies had begun adjusting their offers, trying to secure students quickly before sothing more significant happened.
That was the feeling now.
Like sothing bigger was about to happen.
The list was shrinking.
Fewer nas left now.
A recruiter from a cross-continental university stood. This ti, it wasn’t a local student.
"Candidate 9001. Sianra Vel."
A girl from the border region near the desert stood up. Her outfit looked patched, her boots scuffed. But she didn’t hesitate.
Her ability wasn’t in combat. She had a weak healing trait. But she’d stayed behind during one of the breakout waves and kept a group of twelve stabilized until help arrived.
No footage had shown her directly, but three separate testimonies backed the report.
The recruiter spoke calmly. "We offer a provisional placent in our remote field dic corps. Option to upgrade after a six-month performance trial."
Sianra bowed quietly. Her fingers trembled slightly as she accepted the contract.
The applause that followed was softer, with many of them showing a warm smile as they were truly happy for her.
Then another na.
And another.
But Astralis still didn’t move.
Until the host paused again.
Not dramatically.
But clearly.
He looked down at the last page on his pad, then slowly set it aside.
His voice returned to the mic.
"We now proceed to the final tier. Students whose files were reclassified by the internal review board due to their bravery and their actions, which have made every examiner add more points than possible."
He waited a mont.
Several heads turned.
The room wasn’t fully quiet, but it shifted.
Then, finally, the host read the next na.
"Evelyn Moonshade."
No one gasped.
No one shouted.
But heads started to turn the mont Evelyn stood up.
She didn’t hesitate. Just smoothed down her blazer and began walking toward the stage.
A second later, Everly rose too.
There was a pause, a few murmurs, but no one stopped her.
She didn’t wait for her na. She didn’t need to.
The host glanced at a small panel, then nodded without surprise.
"Everly Moonshade."
They walked together, calm and steady, as if the mont had already been decided.
When they reached the stage, one of the elite academy recruiters who wanted to recruit one or both of them stepped forward and opened her mouth to speak.
But before she could say anything, the instructor from Astralis University stood.
She didn’t rush.
She didn’t say a word.
She walked forward slowly and precisely.
Reviews
All reviews (0)