Right now, from Lucas’s perspective, that woman stood before hundreds of people who doubted her words. Not in a mocking way, but from a place of hurt and pain.

Apparently, all those young people, just like Lucas, could evoke the pain of their ancestors in the face of the humiliation of having to retreat and live in a world where the simple act of living in peace is increasingly difficult and less accessible. Yet she remained stoic, wearing a wide smile as if she had already achieved her goal.

If it hadn’t been for Lucas seeing one of the attendees seated in the front rows stand up to applaud despite his seatmate harshly pulling at his clothes to make him sit down, his clapping would not have shattered the sepulchral silence with such bravery. Both Vikta and everyone else turned to look at him. This person, who appeared to be the same blonde man Lucas had seen just minutes earlier, didn’t stop at clapping. He also whistled to celebrate the woman, drawing the attention of many others who slowly began to join in.

Lucas’s eyes focused on that particular attendee, noticing the silken appearance of his platinum-blonde hair and the snow-white pallor of his skin, which covered hands that weren’t exactly fine, but neither rough and thick like his own, tanned like honey toasted in the sun. Two things about the man caught Lucas’s attention: an attractiveness from his slender build, and a mystery surrounding his role or function in that place.

He knew the man wasn’t part of the academy’s staff nor a teacher, as all of them wore distinguishable uniforms. The same applied to those belonging to any of the factions. On government property, it was forbidden for law enforcement agents to dress in civilian clothing, even if they were on leave or suspended.

The woman stepped down from the podium to rejoin her colleagues, who merely gave her skeptical glances and muttered things Lucas couldn’t hear or read from their lips. At that moment, the presentation was handed over to a robotic voice announcing the start of the final faction selection. Professor Pavlov, one of their longtime mentors, was chosen to give the closing speech:

“Dear students... no, I mean agents,” he interrupted himself awkwardly, emotionally, and with mixed feelings, “as you know, the time has come to choose your path. The one to which you’ll dedicate the rest of your lives. A holographic screen will appear in front of you, where you’ll log in with your student username and password for the very last time.”

The students swallowed hard not out of nerves, but at the words “for the very last time.”

“On that page, you’ll find a questionnaire where you must rank all the factions in order of preference, from 1 to 4, with 1 being your top choice and 4 your least. It will go: first, second, third, and fourth. Once you’ve defined your priorities, click the ‘submit’ button.”

On this questionnaire, you may not refresh the page nor reopen the form once it’s submitted. Therefore, Lucas thought, once it’s done, they would likely be allowed to exit through the designated paths and head to the dining hall, where lunch would be served. The results of the application would be sent to their emails, along with instructions for the next day, Sunday.

Lucas watched the holographic screen pop up before him from a small projector built into the seat in front. He began to log in with his username “Lucas Marilef” and his password “sopaipilla1234.” His memory wasn’t great, so he always used his cat’s name as his password. But just as the form was loading, he was elbowed by a journalist trying to dodge a guard holding him back, and in that moment, Lucas saw the same blonde young man who had sparked the ovation earlier fleeing with another young woman whose hazel-toned skin resembled sunlit polished wood, her loose reddish hair flowing with each rushed step.

He noticed from afar how the Director looked at them with bewildered hand gestures, as if saying, “What are you doing here?” or “How did you even get in?” Then she seemingly received a “We’ll see you later” from the two of them, as the hazel-skinned girl pulled her friend’s arm to help him escape the journalists. Once they were gone, the Director let out a theatrical laugh at the situation.

Many silently wondered: if these strangers could sneak in, then surely the journalists snuck in the same way.

Once allowed to leave the auditorium, the group of friends checked local news on their phones to see if there was any update about their missing classmate. Surprisingly, the alert had spread beyond local to national news.

“I have a really bad feeling,” said Lucas.

“Do you think they’re going to relocate us immediately? We could try to coordinate a search group now to find Aria,” suggested Tori after reading the report.

“Let’s start with North District and the surrounding areas,” proposed Pascal. “I’ll send messages so we can meet up at the station and nearby.”

“Let’s just say I got ahead of you and already sent it,” Tori replied, showing her phone.

Tori had drafted an email with details similar to Pascal’s, so it was likely good enough. But the main problem was that she hadn’t received any reply yet:

“We could also ask one of the professors. I can see Professor Dalton from here,” offered Lucas.

Pascal waved his arm in the air to get Professor Dalton’s attention. One of their technology teachers with a shiny bald head that had reflected even the most embarrassing moments during Military Legislation and Ethics classes. Dalton quickly made his way toward them with a smile and greeted them warmly.

“Time flies, doesn’t it? Feels like just yesterday I was scolding Lucas and Pascal to pay attention in class,” he said fondly, prompting a round of laughter from the group. “I’ll never get tired of congratulating you on your graduation.”

The students gradually stopped laughing and returned to a more serious expression.

“We want to start a search for Aria” said Lucas.

Professor Dalton dropped his smile and warned:

“I don’t recommend it,” said the professor firmly.

The young people were surprised, some startled by the refusal, then looked at each other. In the group, it was Artemisa who stepped forward, ready to defend her point of view.

“Professor, with all due respect…” said Artemisa, preparing to argue.

“Personal searches are out of the question for now,” said Professor Dalton. “There’s too much tension among the high command, and the news just reached the ministerial level. The Ministry and National Security are about to issue a statement, and we’re not sure how they’ll handle it.”

National Security is one of the entities that oversees law enforcement forces. That is, to carry out certain operations, National Security must intervene on behalf of the Ministry of Defense. They can immediately greenlight a meeting or shut down an investigation on the spot.

In the case of a missing person, National Security is usually not relevant, since this can be managed by the military police, or in the worst-case scenario, it should be mediated by the ACE, as requested by the Vice Director. So that bit of information was both shocking and intriguing.

“Ministry of Defense?” asked Pascal. “Why?”

“Both Pavlov and I think it’s because she was part of law enforcement. She’s not exactly a civilian. But even as a member of the force, the case should have been handled at most by the ACE,” added Professor Dalton.

“Of course, today of all days and after so much controversy, ACE gets a big case,” said Tori.

“Isn’t it likely the Deputy Director escalated the case to National Security?” suggested Luna.

“Believe me, the last thing ACE wants is to have to contact National Security,” said Professor Dalton with a smile.

Lucas’s phone received a notification, and given the circumstances, he checked it as fast as possible. It was a message in the graduates’ group chat saying that guards had set up a perimeter around Silvamist Square, so no one could enter or leave the place for any reason. They were even starting to escort anyone leaving Silvamist Square to Central.

Lucas shared this, leaving most people stunned — except for Professor Dalton.

“Do you all remember in class what happens when a case reaches the ministerial level with a critical classification?” asked Professor Dalton.

“Contingency protocols are activated,” Luna answered quickly.

“Why containment?” asked Pascal. “Do they think someone else might disappear?”

“There’s no black or white, Pascal. You have to look at both sides of the coin,” advised Professor Dalton.

“The two sides of the coin” could only mean one thing in Lucas’s mind.

“They’re trying to prevent the perpetrator from leaving,” said Lucas, his tone nervous.

The graduates stared at Lucas, stunned, except for the professor who pointed at him with a smile and nodded in approval. The truth is, given the environment they all shared, no one had dared question whether the perpetrator might be among them.

“Crime in North District is real, but that doesn’t change the fact that in many disappearance cases, the culprit is someone close,” proposed Professor Dalton.

“Even if that were true!” argued Tori, visibly upset.

Everyone turned to Tori. It was true that she was very close to Aria, so it made sense why she stood firm in her belief that they should actively search for her friend. Her face looked anxious and distressed by the situation. No one had solid evidence yet to accuse anyone specifically.

“Even if the perpetrator is among us, I don’t think that’s enough reason to keep us from leaving or starting our own search,” Tori protested. “The concern we’re showing for her should be enough to rule us out as suspects. Out there is someone or something that took Aria, and we’re being held here for no reason while the higher-ups debate how to investigate, letting the hours keep piling up.”

Tori was definitely hurting when she said that. The scenario itself is complex: your friend disappears for no clear reason and showed no suspicious behavior, then you’re told the perpetrator might be someone you know, while you’re detained in a place.

“You’re forgetting something, Tori,” said Professor Dalton. “In order to officially declare someone missing, 24 hours must pass by law. I understand that because she’s your friend you might be overlooking certain details, so let me tell you now: it’s possible they’re looking for Aria due to a case of critical desertion or even high treason.”

Nobody liked where the conversation was heading, but deep down they all knew it could be a real possibility in the eyes of the high command. Graduates are mainly highly trained individuals with capacities above normal people primarily because they possess a core that grants them superhuman abilities.

Just having a “valuable” core among thousands makes you a strategic asset. Following that logic and understanding that the high command doesn’t see Aria as a person but as a potential asset, it’s highly likely they’re not treating this as a simple missing person case. They’re treating it as a potential desertion if her absence was planned by her. And if it wasn’t, then it’s a kidnapping in which her abilities could be used against the government. Either way, public and state security are being compromised.

“Participating in the adhesion ceremony implies exactly that: adhering to a specific faction. If she’s absent, then it’s possible she’s acting outside government jurisdiction.” Lucas said thoughtfully.