Kal's heart sunk deep into his stomach as his mind drifted through every possibility that might implicate him.
Fuck! Okay, I covered my prints with gloves, so the phone should be fine. But what about cameras? I didn't notice until now—but…
Kal peered under his pillow and discovered a half-burned mask with the lower half exposed.
Nah, there's no way they can deduce who I am from just the lower half of my face; that's too little to work with. Okay then—what about my voice? Fuck my voice!
Sweat began to accumulate on his palms.
Wait—no. Deep breaths, Kal. Calm yourself. Don't let your emotions rule.
"Whew…" he exhaled slowly.
Okay, let's think clearly. My mask is fine, though a bit annoying. The lower half reveals nothing but a bit of facial hair. My prints are covered by my gloves, and my hair stays hidden under the upper part of my mask. My body isn't particularly distinctive—I'm not super tall, and my feet aren't huge. Sure, I pack more muscle than the average gym goer, but my loose clothes mask that fact. And anyone who could accurately recognize my voice is probably dead by now. I don't need to worry about it; I mostly speak only when Winston's around anyway. Besides, the cameras are too high up to pick up my voice clearly—and the only time I really yelled was right before the explosion, which got masked out.
"Honey? Are you okay?" his mom asked, interrupting his thoughts as she noticed his strange behavior.
Snapping out of his trance, Kal quickly replied, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Okay… well, I'm going. Remember to be safe. I'm serious," she cautioned.
"Okay, I get it…" Kal groaned softly.
After she left, he sat alone, collecting his scattered thoughts.
"Okay, we're fine for now. I just need to look up some articles and videos so I know what they're working with."
Slowly, Kal rose from his bed and resumed his morning routine.
╚══❖═══════❖══╝
"Now arriving at Prince Hill High."
Kal exited with the rest of the students, his demeanor calmer now that he had a plan. He already knew what his next class was.
"RAPRA," he mumbled under his breath.
Rankers and Protectors Real Application—RAPRA for short—promised a good overview of what rankers and protectors do, along with hands-on lab work. I'll learn a lot.
Kal strolled toward his designated building. Knowing his building number and class, and with the bus arriving slightly early, he was confident in being on time today.
"Hmmm… this should be it," he thought as he reached the front door.
Opening the classroom door, he was met by an extremely large room. Kal had grown accustomed to these expansive spaces—his history class, for instance, often accommodated an exorbitant number of students.
He quickly moved to the back right of the room, far from the bulk of his peers, and dropped his bag before settling down to wait for class to begin.
I had class with nearly everyone from my combat and free training session yesterday morning. Maybe it's because we're all freshmen, but it still feels strange. Let's see if that holds true today.
Scanning the room, he recognized the familiar faces: Matthew, Eshara, Kyrie, Yeong-Ja, Sophie, and AJ.
Well, it seems true. That's good though—this way I get a clear view of everyone and their interactions. I'll know whom to approach and whom to avoid.
-Ding Ding Dong Ding-
The bell's rhythmic chime signaled that class had started. He watched his professor stride to the front.
The professor was objectively handsome—a man in his early twenties with jet-black hair streaked with brown highlights and golden eyes that made him look like a model. His frame confirmed he wasn't a small man, and his very presence exuded an pressure that hushed the room.
Argh, damn—can you tone it down for weaklings like me?
Kal silently cursed him in his thoughts.
The professor set his bags down and faced the class.
"Ahem…" he cleared his throat. "My name is Traetir. It's pronounced 'Tray' as in a food tray and 'tear' as in what comes out of your eyes when you cry." He laughed.
What were his parents thinking when they named him that?
A natural charisma radiated from Traetir as he outlined the classroom rules and regulations—a subject that bored Kal. Other students groaned softly, yet even if he talked about the most mundane details for hours, you couldn't help but pay attention. And after all that, you couldn't even bring yourself to hate him.
"Finally, one last thing: the basic knowledge of protectors and rankers. Would anyone like to share what they already know?"
Kal glanced up, not intending to raise his hand himself but merely curious to see who spoke.
"Ah yes, Miss Yeong-Ja, was it?" the professor prompted.
"You are correct, professor," she replied quickly, clearing her throat. "Rankers and protectors form the forefront of human society. Protectors help civilians during a fracture tear and maintain law and order, defending against Anti-Protectors—those who seek to harm those who cannot fight back. Rankers enter fractures to stabilize and eventually close them, opposing Anti-Rankers who steal from the fractures and aim to destabilize everything."
Huh, I guess she really takes her studies seriously. I'd almost forgotten about the antis…
"Wow, great answer. I am pleasantly surprised," Traetir said with a warm smile. "As she mentions, these roles bear the brunt of our societal workload. Neither job is easy, and both receive critical acclaim. Ultimately, it comes down to personal preference—but for the most part, becoming a ranker is somewhat easier because of the resources available."
He paused. Kal noticed the sound of scribbling notes and glanced to his right.
He realized with a sinking feeling that he was the only one not taking notes.
"But there are some key points Miss Yeong-Ja missed—no offense, Yeong-Ja. First, there's another type of job that combines the two fields: a proctor. These are the best of the best, handling both roles. Although it's 100 times harder to get in—since you need to get into 'Nurture,' which houses only 450 kids worldwide—I know somebody in this class who already made it…" Traetir glanced at Kyrie, who dozed off in class.
"Next—"
-Ding Ding Dong Ding-
The bell's rhythmic chime signaled the end of class.
"Ah, I guess that's my cue. Well, I hope you all have a great rest of your day. On Thursday, we'll have our first real application," Traetir concluded.
Students shot up from their seats and flooded out the door.
Kal followed them.
╚══❖═══════❖══╝
The rest of the day passed in a blur of basic courses—English, Science, and a long study hall.
Finally, after leaving the library, Kal checked his phone.
[15:30 August 10th, 2030]
Ugh, I gotta walk home again. Actually, since I'm heading to Grandma's, I might as well take my time; my mom has to get home first before we head out. I'll stop by the PC cafe, do some 'research,' and ask her to pick me up.
Walking toward the mega mall situated 3 km from his school, Kal couldn't help but notice the deliberate design—a giant mall filled with food, cafes, and shops built right next to the school. It was obvious what they were doing, and it worked.
After 15 minutes, Kal entered the mall and headed into one of its many PC cafes. At the front desk, he said, "Excuse me, I'd like an hour and a half, please."
"Okay, are you a student at Prince Hill High?" the clerk asked.
"Yes, I am. Do you need to see my I.D.?"
"If we can scan it, we'll charge your account."
"Okay, that works."
Flashing his badge, she scanned it, and a ticket printed instantly.
"Okay! Enjoy your time!"
"Thank you," Kal replied as he took his ticket, silently cursing, Sorry, Mom—I know that was my lunch money…