Dakari followed Fuyuki through the hallways of the Veridian Institute, her eyes scanning the high-tech architecture, the walls glowing faintly with embedded circuitry. Fuyuki walked a step ahead, talking excitedly, her voice carrying a blend of enthusiasm and nervous energy.
"So, this is it," Fuyuki said, gesturing to the door in front of them. "Advanced Synchronization Theory with Instructor Talan. It's one of the tougher classes, but it's where you really learn how to sync with the mechs on a deeper level."
Dakari nodded, keeping her expression neutral. She still felt a bit out of place, being the new transfer student. "Sounds intense," she muttered, her eyes lingering on the door as if it were some formidable adversary.
Fuyuki grinned. "Don't worry, you'll do great! And besides, it's good you're here early; I can show you around a bit before class starts."
She pushed open the door, and they stepped into a large, open room filled with rows of desks, each one paired with a sleek mech interface. The air was filled with a low hum from the machines, and the walls were lined with complex holographic displays showing diagrams, neural maps, and lines of synchronization code.
Fuyuki pointed to a section near the back. "That's where the primary terminals are. They're connected to the more advanced mechs we use in training. Over there," she gestured toward a set of old-looking synchronization modules, "those are legacy units. We use them to understand the basics and the history of sync tech. Kind of outdated, but still useful."
Dakari glanced around, taking it all in. "Interesting setup," she remarked, a slight frown forming on her face. "I didn't expect to see so many different kinds of interfaces."
Fuyuki nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty diverse here. They want us to be able to adapt to any kind of mech tech, old or new. That's why Instructor Talan is so strict. She wants us to know it all."
As they moved closer to the front of the room, Fuyuki pointed to a series of digital boards displaying live neural data from the last class. "These are from the Advanced Sync Analysis exercises. They show real-time data feedback from past sessions. You can see how everyone did, what went wrong… or right." She paused, giving Dakari a meaningful look. "I've heard Instructor Talan likes to use them to, uh, motivate us to do better."
Dakari smirked slightly. "Sounds like fun."
Fuyuki's expression brightened. "Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the class." She led Dakari to a group of students clustered near the front, all of them chatting animatedly.
As they approached, the conversations quieted, and the students turned to look at them. Fuyuki clapped her hands together. "Hey everyone! This is Dakari, the new transfer student!" she announced with a grin.
A few polite nods and murmured greetings came from the group, but most of the students seemed more curious than welcoming. Kael, standing at the edge of the group with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "A transfer, huh?" he muttered, his tone laced with skepticism. "From where?"
Fuyuki quickly jumped in, sensing the tension. "She's new to the Institute, but don't let that fool you! Dakari's pretty sharp," she said, trying to keep the mood light.
Kael's gaze lingered on Dakari for a moment before he shrugged and turned away. "Well, she'll need to be if she's going to keep up here," he said, his voice just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Dakari felt a surge of irritation but forced herself to stay calm. "I'll do my best," she replied evenly, meeting Kael's gaze head-on.
Before anything more could be said, the door at the front of the room slid open, and Instructor Talan strode in. She paused, her eyes sweeping over the students, before settling on Dakari. "Ah, our new transfer, Miss Wasureta" she said, her tone sharp and to the point. "Welcome to Advanced Synchronization Theory. Let's hope you're up to the challenge."
Dakari gave a small nod. "Thank you, Instructor Talan."
Talan turned her attention to the class. "Alright, settle down, everyone. Today's session will focus on Neural Feedback Loops and their impact on synchronization stability. As many of you know, unstable feedback can lead to catastrophic failures, both in training and in real combat scenarios. So, who can start us off with a brief explanation of a Neural Feedback Loop?"
Kael, eager to impress, raised his hand and immediately launched into his explanation. "Neural Feedback Loops are the system's way of regulating communication between the pilot's neural patterns and the mech's core processor," he said confidently. "They ensure that the mech responds accurately to the pilot's commands by maintaining a stable feedback cycle."
Instructor Talan nodded but remained unsmiling. "Correct, but that's just the surface. Let's go deeper. What are the risks of an unstable loop?"
Before Dakari could think, her hand was up, and the words tumbled out. "Unstable Neural Feedback Loops can cause what's known as a 'Neural Cascade,' where feedback begins to accelerate uncontrollably between the pilot and the mech. This can result in neural damage or even a total synaptic shutdown."
As the words left her mouth, Dakari felt a wave of confusion and frustration rise within her. How do I know this? she wondered, feeling a gnawing sense of unease. It was like the answer had been pulled from some deep, hidden place within her mind, a place she didn't even know existed.
For a moment, the room was silent. Fuyuki stared at Dakari in surprise, and even Kael looked slightly taken aback. Instructor Talan's gaze sharpened. "Synaptic shutdown?" she repeated, her voice carrying a note of intrigue. "That's a term we don't often hear in modern synchronization theory. Where did you learn that?"
Dakari hesitated, feeling the eyes of the room on her. "I… I'm not sure," she confessed, her voice faltering. "It just came to me." The class murmured among themselves, and Kael's smirk returned. "Sounds like someone's been reading outdated manuals," he muttered.
Dakari felt a flicker of anger but kept her expression calm. Instructor Talan, however, seemed intrigued. "Interesting," she murmured, almost to herself. "Let's explore that further. You mentioned something about a 'synaptic shutdown'—can you explain what you mean by that?"
Dakari hesitated, her mind racing. Why do I know this? The thought pulsed in her head like a drumbeat. It didn't make sense—her words felt as if they came from somewhere outside herself or some deeply buried part of her memory. Yet, the explanation flowed out before she could stop it, and even as she spoke, fear curled at the edges of her mind. What else do I know?
"A synaptic shutdown is... it's when the neural pathways in the NIS become overwhelmed by conflicting signals, usually during synchronization attempts with incompatible systems," Dakari began slowly, her voice steady but uncertain.
Talan's eyes narrowed slightly as she listened, a fleeting shadow of surprise passing over her face. She quickly masked it with a neutral expression, but her fingers tapped rhythmically against her thigh—a nervous habit she rarely displayed. How could a transfer student know this? she wondered, her curiosity piqued.
"The feedback loops start to amplify the neural output rather than regulate it, creating a self-sustaining cycle that can fry the neural network—both in the user and in the mech. The system tries to protect itself by isolating the affected regions, but if it can't, it triggers a shutdown to prevent complete neural collapse." Dakari finishes. The room fell silent. Even Kael, who had been quietly stewing in the corner, seemed momentarily taken aback.
Talan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And how would you know this? That is an interpretation I've only seen referenced in classified documents. It's an older theory, almost abandoned for its impracticality in modern use. Who taught you this?"
Dakari blinked, her own surprise mirroring that of the instructor's. "I… I don't know," she admitted, frustration creeping into her voice. "I just… know it."
For a moment, Talan's eyes narrowed, and Dakari could see the wheels turning behind them. "Curious," she said quietly. "Your explanation aligns with some of the earliest research into the NIS, from a time when the technology was still in its infancy. It was believed that the human brain's adaptability could compensate for those feedback errors, but the risks were deemed too high, and the idea was largely abandoned."
A murmur of interest ran through the class. A few students leaned forward, clearly intrigued by this new information.
Talan continued, more to herself than anyone else, "The concept of synaptic shutdown… it was theorized by Dr. Althea Wasureta herself during her development of the NIS protocols. But those theories were classified. Unless…"
Dakari's eyes widened at the name. "Dr. Althea Wasureta?" she whispered, barely audible. A sudden, sharp pang shot through her head, an image flashing briefly—a woman's face, stern yet kind, a laboratory filled with screens displaying endless streams of data.
"Yes," Talan replied, eyeing Dakari more closely now. "The founder of the NIS System. You seem to have an uncanny grasp of her earlier works… and her theories."
Dakari's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a hammer striking against the fragile walls of her composure. She felt exposed, like a wound reopened under a surgeon's glare, each probing question and glance from Talan tearing at the carefully stitched seams of her fragmented past. I need answers, she thought desperately, before they start demanding them from me. "I… I don't know why," she stammered, frustration building. "I don't know why I know this. It just… came to me."
Talan paused, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she studied Dakari. Then, a faint, enigmatic smile touched her lips, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "How ironic," she murmured, her tone more curious than amused, like she was fitting together pieces of a puzzle that no one else could see. "That a Wasureta would give an answer that another Wasureta once theorized centuries ago. Almost as if it runs in the family…"What are you hiding, Miss Wasureta?
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, the weight of Talan's words settling over everyone like a thick fog. Several students exchanged curious glances, whispering to one another. Kael, who had been glaring at Dakari moments before, seemed taken aback, his brows knitting together in genuine surprise. For a moment, his expression shifted, almost to reluctant respect, before his usual scowl returned. "Guess even transfers can surprise you," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else.
Dakari's mind spun. Family? What family? Her memories were fragmented, but she couldn't recall any clear connections to the name Wasureta. Still, the name sparked something—a feeling, an emotion she couldn't quite place.
"I… I don't know what you mean," she finally managed to say, her voice quieter now, almost uncertain. Talan nodded slowly, hiding the spark of realization that flickered in her eyes. "Fascinating," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your instinctual knowledge suggests… perhaps an older source of education or experience. Maybe your family has classified information about the NIS System, but let's not dwell on speculation for now."
She moved over to the mech interface and began setting up the next task, but Dakari felt a shiver run down her spine. She wasn't sure if it was fear, confusion, or something else entirely. But one thing was certain—her last name "Wasureta" held a deeper meaning than she realized.
Instructor Talan cleared her throat, snapping the class's attention back to the front of the room. "All right, enough theorizing for now. Let's move on to the hands-on synchronization exercise. This will test your ability to adapt to a new system interface. Remember, control and stability are the key objectives here, not power."
She gestured toward the line of sleek, minimalist sync terminals set up along the side of the classroom, each one connected to a small, holographic display. The displays flickered to life, each showing a simple grid pattern meant to test basic maneuvering.
"Pair up!" Talan instructed. "I want one of you to take the helm and attempt to sync with the terminal while your partner monitors your neural activity. You'll have five minutes to establish a connection and complete the basic maneuvering task. This is an individual test of your ability to adapt and respond to unfamiliar neural inputs."
Dakari felt a wave of nervous anticipation wash over her. She knew that she would draw attention; being new meant all eyes would be on her performance. She glanced at Fuyuki, who flashed her a reassuring smile. "Let's be partners," Fuyuki whispered eagerly, already moving toward a terminal. "I'll monitor your sync activity. I'm not the best at it, but I promise I'll try my hardest!"
Dakari nodded, grateful for Fuyuki's upbeat attitude. She moved over to the terminal and took a deep breath, settling herself into the sync chair. The seat molded to her form, and a soft hum emanated from the machine as the interface activated. She could feel the faint thrum of energy beneath her fingertips, waiting to connect.
"Place your sync key into the slot," Talan instructed, her voice calm but authoritative. "The system will recognize your unique neural signature and initiate the synchronization process."
Dakari glanced down at her black bangle, feeling a mixture of unease and determination. She slipped it off and inserted it into the designated slot. The terminal emitted a low, humming sound, and Dakari felt a slight tingling sensation run up her arm. The sync interface display flickered momentarily.
Suddenly, a soft chime echoed throughout the room, and the terminal's screen displayed a series of numbers and letters: "Index Level 3: Unclassified."
A murmur spread across the class like wildfire.
"Unclassified? What does that mean?" a student whispered.
"Index Level 3? Isn't that…?" another began, eyes widening.
Kael's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the screen. "Unclassified? That's rich," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "Maybe the system's as confused about you as the rest of us are." His tone was light, but the edge of a challenge was unmistakable.
Talan raised a hand, her voice cutting through the noise. "Silence!" She glanced at the display, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Continue with your exercise, all of you. Now."
The students quieted down, though they continued to exchange curious looks. Dakari felt the heat of their stares, but she kept her face calm, her mind whirling with questions of her own. Fuyuki glanced over, concern mixed with intrigue on her face. "Are you okay?" she whispered. "That's… a bit unusual, right?" Dakari nodded slightly, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing on her. "Let's just focus on the task," she replied, her voice steady. "We'll figure out what that means later."
Fuyuki nodded, turning her attention back to the monitoring station. "Right… I'll keep an eye on your sync activity," she murmured, tapping a few keys to bring up the data feed. "Just… do your best." Dakari took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her consciousness extend toward the interface. She felt a familiar pull, a subtle vibration that seemed to resonate deep within her. Slowly, she pushed her mind forward, aiming for the connection.
Suddenly, she felt a strange shift—a sensation like slipping through a hidden door. The resistance she had felt earlier seemed to dissolve, and the grid on her display illuminated brightly. The orb that represented her neural connection moved effortlessly across the grid, navigating with surprising ease.
Fuyuki's eyes widened as she stared at her own screen. "What…?" she muttered under her breath, trying to make sense of the data. Dakari's sync activity was unusually smooth, almost as if she were bypassing the normal pathways. But that wasn't what caught her attention.
There, on the monitor, within Dakari's name, was an additional identifier: "Dakari 'Princess' Wasureta."
Fuyuki's breath hitched. "Princess…?" she mouthed silently, her heart racing. Why would the system recognize Dakari with a title like that? She glanced quickly at Talan, who was making her rounds, inspecting each pair's progress.
Without thinking, Fuyuki tapped a few keys, masking the additional identifier from the main screen. Fuyuki's fingers hovered over the keys as she hid the identifier. Why am I hiding this? she thought, a twinge of doubt creeping into her mind. Something about the tag felt… significant, but she couldn't put her finger on why. Is it really for Dakari's sake, or am I just afraid of what it means? Fuyuki didn't know why, but something told her it was better if Talan didn't see it—at least, not yet.
"Keep going," Fuyuki whispered urgently to Dakari, who seemed unaware of the title appearing next to her name. "You're doing great, just… keep it steady."
Dakari nodded, her focus unwavering on the grid in front of her. The orb moved fluidly, as if guided by an invisible hand. She felt a strange familiarity with the process, as if her neural pathways knew exactly where to go, which signals to send. Why does this feel so natural? she wondered, dismissing the thought quickly. She couldn't afford distractions, not now. She had to prove herself, even if everything felt oddly instinctual, like she had done it a thousand times before.
Talan approached, her gaze sharp. "How is she doing?" she asked, her eyes flicking to Fuyuki's monitor.
Fuyuki's heart pounded, but she kept her expression neutral. "She's… doing well," she replied. "Steady sync, no neural feedback issues so far."
Talan nodded, her face betraying nothing. "Good. Keep monitoring closely."
As Talan moved on, Fuyuki let out a quiet breath, her fingers subtly tapping the screen to keep the hidden identifier obscured. She turned her attention back to Dakari, who was still navigating the grid with an almost uncanny ease.
Dakari continued her movements, unaware of the extra attention. Suddenly, a flash of memory hit her—a fleeting image of herself sitting in a similar chair, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, a soft voice whispering, "Princess, you're almost there…"
"Princess"? The word echoed in Dakari's mind, stirring a sense of familiarity tinged with fear. She had no memory of anyone calling her that, but the title felt heavy, as if it carried a history she didn't understand. Why does that feel like that's…my nickname? She blinked, momentarily disoriented. Her concentration wavered, and the orb on her display faltered, jerking erratically.
"Focus, Dakari!" Fuyuki urged quietly, sensing the shift. "Don't lose it now!"
I need to understand why these things keep popping into my head, Dakari thought, her mind spinning. But do I even want to know what it means? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside, knowing she had to stay focused on what lay ahead. Dakari shook her head, clearing the fog from her mind. She refocused, pushing the orb forward again, feeling that strange, almost instinctual familiarity guiding her through.
Meanwhile, at the far end of the room, Talan's attention momentarily flickered toward the base of her mech interface. A faint, almost imperceptible ripple of movement caught her eye. Her expression remained neutral, but her hand moved subtly toward her side, fingers brushing against a concealed control pad.
From beneath the mech interface, a small, shimmering blob of a Chimera Slime began to emerge, its viscous form barely noticeable. Without changing her expression or pausing in her movements, Talan deftly pressed a series of keys on her wrist device. A faint beam of light emitted from a hidden panel on her mech, and the Chimera Slime evaporated in an instant, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke.
Fuyuki, glancing in Talan's direction, caught the subtle gesture out of the corner of her eye. She felt a sudden chill run down her spine, an instinctive sense of wrongness as she saw the faint wisp of smoke where the Chimera had been. Her brows furrowed deeply, her heart beating faster. She'd never seen an instructor act so… covertly. What was that? She kept her mouth shut, deciding to hold onto the observation for later, but she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever she had seen was far more dangerous than she first realized.
As the sync exercise continued, a sense of unease settled over the classroom. Fuyuki could tell that there were more questions than answers, and she had a feeling they were only scratching the surface of something much deeper.
Later, After Class
As the class began to disperse, Instructor Talan's voice rang out, calm but with a sharp edge. "Remember, next week's sync trials will be unlike anything you've faced before. Prepare well, because failure isn't an option." The murmurs of the students grew louder, a ripple of unease spreading through the room.
Dakari lingered near the doorway, her face impassive as she waited for Fuyuki. She could feel the buzz of curiosity around her, the weight of eyes on her back. Finally, Fuyuki caught up, pulling her aside with a conspiratorial whisper.. "Hey, did you notice something weird during the exercise?" she whispered, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard.
Dakari's brow furrowed slightly, but she kept her voice level. "Weird how? I was focused on the sync."
Fuyuki hesitated, then leaned in closer. "I think Instructor Talan dealt with one of those creatures… like, out of nowhere."
Dakari blinked, her expression remaining neutral but carrying a subtle hint of confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Fuyuki looked around, making sure no one was listening. "You know… those slime things? I saw something slimy and dark come out from under her mech interface. But she just… got rid of it, like it was nothing."
Dakari's eyes narrowed, but she kept her tone even. "Slime things?" she repeated, sounding more curious than alarmed.
Fuyuki glanced around quickly, lowering her voice. "I don't know exactly," she admitted. "But whatever it was, she handled it fast and quiet, like she didn't want anyone to notice. Fuyuki's eyes softened as she glanced at Dakari's arm. "I noticed the burns when we first met… I didn't want to pry, but I could see you were in pain," she murmured, a hint of worry in her voice. "I just… I don't want to see you get hurt again."
Dakari hesitated for a moment, weighing how much to reveal. "It happened in Lab 3," she began slowly. "I was shadowing a provisional team... There was this purple slime, it came out of one of the workstations." She paused, remembering the flash of panic that had struck her at that moment. "It… absorbed a student. Took their shape, even mimicked their voice. I fought it off to protect the group, especially Serin. I have no idea why it was after her. Managed to destroy it… but not without getting these burns." She glanced at her arm, the memory of searing pain still fresh in her mind. "That's how I got hurt."
Fuyuki's eyes widened with realization. "Chimeras," she whispered. "That's what they're called. The slimes that have been detected—they're Chimeras. Bio-organic threats that we have to fight against."
Dakari's expression remained calm, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. "Chimeras? I've never heard that term before. What are they?"
"Chimeras are usually failed NIS experiments, mutated beings, or entities that have fully merged with the system." Fuyuki continued, her voice hushed but urgent. "Some say they're created from old synchronization projects gone wrong, left to fester and mutate. The slimes are classified as mutated beings. The smaller ones, like the one you fought, are usually easier to deal with… but the bigger ones?" She shook her head. "Unpredictable. Dangerous. They can adapt to whatever they come into contact with. I'm assuming that's why the instructors keep it quiet—they don't want to cause a panic."
Dakari's thoughts moved rapidly, piecing together fragments of fragmented information. She shot Fuyuki a look that was equal parts surprise and suspicion. "How do you know all this?" she asked, her voice lower than before, her tone almost indifferent. "That's… a lot of information. More than what most students know." Her own pulse quickened, but she kept her demeanor composed. Is she hiding something, too?
Fuyuki blinked, taken aback. "I—I don't know. I guess I just picked it up somewhere, overheard things, maybe?" Her voice wavered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "I just… remember hearing about them. It seemed important to remember, you know?"
Dakari felt a cold shiver run down her spine. This was strange—too strange. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Fuyuki than met the eye, but kept her face impassive "Maybe," she said cautiously. "But keep it quiet, okay? If they're keeping this under wraps, there's probably a good reason."
As they walked away, Dakari's thoughts swirled with possibilities. Chimeras, the hidden dangers of the NIS System, and her fragmented memories… it was all connected somehow. She glanced back over her shoulder, catching a final glimpse of Talan, whose gaze was still fixed on her, intense and thoughtful. There's more to all of this, I just need to find the thread," she thought, her face revealing nothing.