Rina began reading the nas of each group in a clear, organized voice.
She held a digital tablet in her hand, glanced at it, then lifted her head slightly as she read—as if what she was saying was completely ordinary... even though, for us, it was anything but
"Group A..."
My heart stopped for a second.
"Alisa Ritman... Darin Ivern... Darwin Rovfield..." Then she continued without pause: "Michael Hart... Nadia Collins... Victor Pri... Elena Shore... Raven Clark... Thomas Green... Sarah Milford."
When I heard Darwin’s na, sothing warm spread through my chest.
I looked at him without thinking, and our eyes t for a brief mont. He smiled at —a faint smile—but sothing about it felt wrong.
He looked... sad.
I thought to myself: Is he upset?
I didn’t have ti to think further.
Rina continued reading quickly.
"Group D..."
My entire body tensed without realizing it.
"Silvar Lucris... Talia Morrison... Erin Falco... Maxim Vern... Kyle Andrews... Rosalia Vint... Bruno Stark... Laura Neville... Josh Kane... Hanna Ruiz."
The nas passed by, and I listened for only one reason:
My na still hadn’t been called...
It’s fine... there’s still ti. That’s what I told myself, but my heart didn’t believe it.
Every ti Rina announced a new group and I wasn’t in it, one thought kept repeating in my mind over and over:
Please... just don’t put in his group. Any group... anyone... just not him.
I repeated it so many tis that I lost count.
Then Rina paused.
She raised her head and said: "Group Z."
"Zion Steel."
I froze.
"Gina Ronflood."
I swallowed hard.
"Lina Taylor."
My heart started pounding uncomfortably fast.
"Chris Ashford... Mira Lance..."
My breathing beca uneven.
Please... don’t say my na...
"Rion Taylor."
At that mont... my mind stopped.
It felt as if all the air around had vanished. My mouth opened without aning to, and I couldn’t even close it right away.
I was shocked—literally.
I blinked several tis, trying to process what I had just heard. Did she really say my na? Or did I imagine it?
I could feel so eyes turning toward , but I couldn’t look back.
There was only one thought in my head: Damn it...
I really am unlucky...
...
Rina lowered the tablet in her hand and looked at us calmly.
"All groups should head to the inner hall. You’ll find your leaders there, and they’ll explain the mission you’ll be undertaking."
As soon as she finished speaking, the students began to move.
So stood up quickly, as if they had been waiting for the signal, while others started talking among themselves as they gathered their things.
As for ... I didn’t move.
My mouth was still slightly open, and I still hadn’t fully processed what had happened.
My na kept echoing in my head, as if it were stuck there.
Rion Taylor... Group Z...
I heard a voice beside .
"Hey... are you okay?"
I turned slowly and saw Darwin standing nearby.
He was smiling as usual—a simple smile—but his eyes were watching my face, trying to figure out what was wrong with .
He said in a light, half-joking tone: "Don’t tell you’re shocked because we’re not in the sa group?"
He let out a short laugh, looking slightly happy—or at least relieved.
I tried to answer him right away.
No... that’s not it... I can’t even stand you...
But the words wouldn’t co out.
I was still trying to understand everything.
Before I could say anything, Darwin suddenly spoke again: "Anyway, I’m a bit busy right now."
He gestured toward the door and added: "I’ll head to the inner hall first, so let’s talk later, okay?"
He paused, as if waiting for a response.
I opened my mouth again...
But nothing ca out.
He simply smiled briefly, then turned and walked away, blending in with the other students leaving the room.
I stood there watching him for a mont, saying nothing.
I wasn’t thinking about what he said, or even about him leaving.
I was still stuck in that mont, as if my mind was lagging behind my body.
After the hall quieted down a bit, I finally closed my mouth and took a deep breath.
Cool air filled my chest, then slowly left, as if helping return to reality.
Calm down... It’s not that big of a deal.
But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.
I finally started moving toward the door, my steps slow, heading to the inner hall...
The corridor was crowded with students—so crowded that walking through it beca difficult.
Voices overlapped from every direction: loud laughter, irritated complaints, endless discussions about the upcoming mission.
I passed through them as if I didn’t exist.
I heard everything, but I didn’t really focus on anything. Words entered my ears and left without leaving a trace, as if my mind had chosen to ignore them completely.
One student said loudly: "Imagine if they make us fight each other!"
Another replied with a laugh: "No way... that’s impossible."
I didn’t turn toward them.
At the entrance to the inner hall, several students had already arrived.
So stood in small groups, while others leaned against the walls, their expressions either tense or excited.
I passed them and went inside.
The hall was larger than I expected.
Smooth gray walls, completely undecorated, and bright white lighting that made the place feel colder than it was.
Even the air carried a sense of formality, as if this hall had been created solely for tests.
I stood at the entrance for a mont, looking around for just one thing.
My group’s na.
"Where...?" I muttered to myself.
I began walking slowly along the wall, reading the small signs hanging above the doors.
Each door bore the na of a different group.
Group A...
Group D...
The nas passed one after another, my heart beating with every step.
Then I saw it.
My group’s na, hanging above a side room door, written clearly.
Group Z.
I stopped without realizing it.
I felt sothing strange in my chest—a mix of tension and readiness—as if this room marked a point of no return.
I approached the door and raised my hand slightly, then hesitated.
I heard faint voices from inside...
As soon as I stepped in, a few faces turned toward . They weren’t looks of open curiosity—just quick, passing glances, as if everyone was too occupied with their own thoughts to care much about others.
I raised my head.
At the front of the room stood one person.
A young man in his early twenties, with short dark-brown hair, neatly kept without excess.
His features were calm, and his eyes held a kind of confidence that wasn’t forced, but instead made others feel at ease. A constant smile rested on his face—not fake or wide, just simple... warm.
He spoke in a calm, clear voice, as if confirming sothing: "Looks like everyone is here."
He glanced around quickly, his eyes passing over the seats, then they stopped on . He smiled a little wider and gestured toward a nearby seat.
"You can sit there."
I nodded without speaking and walked quietly to the seat. As soon as I sat down, he turned his attention back to everyone.
He stood a bit straighter and said in the sa calm tone: "Hello, everyone."
He paused briefly, giving us ti to focus.
"My na is Fry Castar."
Then he continued, his smile still there: "I’m in my second year, and I’ve been appointed as your leader for this mission."
There was no arrogance in his voice, no attempt to assert authority. He spoke as if he were simply introducing himself.
He took a light breath, then continued: "Our mission will be an exploratory expedition."
His tone shifted slightly—still gentle, but more serious.
"We’ll be exploring an area known as Irval Valley."
He paused for a second, then added: "This area has been abandoned for years."
He raised his hand slightly, as if placing an invisible warning in the air.
"Unconfird reports have ntioned activity there..."
Then he added calmly: "And there’s suspicion of mbers belonging to the organization known as Atran."
He didn’t raise his voice when he said the na.
He didn’t need to. The weight of the word alone made the atmosphere heavier.
Fry took a deep breath, then said in a calm but firm tone, as if settling the matter once and for all: "So... our mission is to confirm whether this information is true."
He paused briefly, then concluded quietly:
"That’s all there is to it."
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