Bessia—POV

The bathroom mirror reflected someone Bessia herself barely recognized.

Golden hair—actually golden now instead of matted brown-red with accumulated grime and blood—fell in clean waves past her shoulders. Her skin showed its natural pale tone rather than dirt-caked survival pallor. Her features, freed from combat residue, revealed a delicate structure that outpost life had hidden beneath necessary filth.

I forgot I could look like this, Bessia thought, running fingers through hair that felt soft instead of crusted.

She'd spent three hours in the bathroom that first night—scrubbing away months of accumulated grime, watching the water run brown then gray then finally clear, discovering her actual appearance beneath the heavy survival's coating.

Her roommate had waited patiently, apparently unsurprised by the outpost recruit needing an extended cleaning session.

Because she's never been that dirty, Bessia recognized.

Now, weeks into Academy life, Bessia maintained cleanliness with almost religious devotion—never letting grime accumulate, never allowing combat residue to cake, keeping herself recognizably human instead of just a functional survivor.

But cleanliness couldn't hide other realization that had been growing with uncomfortable persistence.

Everyone else has reached Initiate, Bessia thought, the recognition carrying weight she tried to dismiss. Bright, Silas, Duncan, even Adam. All advanced while I'm still Fledgling.

Why?

The question demanded an honest answer rather than a comfortable excuse.

She was a long range combatant that was never in the thick of battle, so she had fewer kills and fewer advancement opportunities.

But that felt like rationalization. Like blaming the circumstances rather than acknowledging her personal limitations.

The next thing she thought of was her role as a healer, although just in name for now as her soul talent only worked on herself as a fledgling.

Still it was also rationalization. Also an excuse.

The truth was simple: she had prioritized staying alive over pushing forward. She lingered on the edges, played support, dodged risks that might have sharpened her spirit—but could just as easily have ended her.

It was also why she was behind peers who took bigger risks and gained bigger rewards.

The recognition stung but didn't devastate her .She was alive, functional, enrolled at Sparkshire when plenty of more aggressive fighters had died pursuing advancement.

She followed a Different path,Not inferior in anyway but still different. Support specialists develop differently than frontline combatants.

I'll advance when I'm ready.

Her roommate's voice interrupted her internal analysis.

"You're brooding again," Celestine Aurin observed from her bed, golden eyes showing amusement. "That's three times this week. What's troubling the beautiful healer?"

Beautiful healer. The casual compliment still felt foreign despite Celestine's frequent deployment.

Bessia turned from mirror, finding her roommate watching with genuine interest rather than the usual noble condescension.

Celestine Aurin. Heiress to House Aurin—one of Republic's wealthiest and most influential families. Daughter of the man who commanded mercenary forces that had protected them during the convoy journey.

*She should have been insufferable*, Bessia had expected.

Instead, Celestine was… a ray of dark night. Genuinely warm. Actually interested in people rather than just their status. Treating Bessia as friend rather than an inferior.

Either a remarkably good actor or genuinely decent person, Bessia had concluded after the first week. *mAnd I don't think it's acting. She's just… nice. Despite having every reason to be terrible.

"Just thinking about advancement," Bessia admitted. "About being behind my squad in rank progression."

"Behind?" Celestine's tone carried surprise. "You're Fledgling-rank healer with a plant manipulation core ability. That's solid foundation. Why compare yourself to frontline combatants whose builds prioritize a different development?"

"Because we started together," Bessia said. "Survived same events. I feel like I should have kept pace."

"That's comparing apples to swords," Celestine replied. "Frontline fighters advance through elimination. Support specialists advance through mastery rare core acquisition. Different timelines. Different trajectories."

She sat up, her expression shifting to something more serious.

"My father told me about Clear Light's Eve," Celestine said quietly. "About Vester. About the coordinated assault and massive casualties. Can't actually believe they left beauty like you in that mud pit."

Beauty like you. Celestine kept saying things like that—casual compliments that suggested she genuinely saw value beyond her combat capability.

"That's just how it is," Bessia replied, not wanting to dwell on Vester's classification as a frontier outpost unworthy of Central's protection.

"Okay, let's break from the sob story," Celestine said, deliberately lightening mood. "What about relationships? Anyone you're seeing?"

Bessia blinked at sudden topic shift. "What?"

"Relationships," Celestine repeated with exaggerated patience. "Romance. Attraction. You know—having to fight all those monstrosities must have made you tense. Must have let loose a bit, right?"

Oh. Bessia felt heat rise in her cheeks. She's asking about—

"I mean," Celestine continued with confidence that didn't quite mask her underlying uncertainty, "combat situations create intense bonds. Proximity under pressure. Surely someone caught your attention?"

She's fishing, Bessia realized. Wants to talk about relationships but doesn't want to admit she has no experience either. Her Sharp mouth really hid her beginner status.

"I'm not—" Bessia started, then reconsidered. "I haven't really thought about it."

"Liar," Celestine said cheerfully. "Everyone thinks about it. So who is it? That tactical combatant you mentioned—Bright? The invisible one—Silas? The massive tank—Duncan?"

How does she know their names? Bessia wondered, then remembered: Because I talk about them. Because Celestine actually listens when I speak.

"I don't—" Bessia paused, her mind automatically cataloging faces despite her protests.

Bright appeared first.. Level-headed. Smart. Increasingly attractive as the Academy training refined his frame and cleared away desperation's edge.

He's impressive, Bessia admitted internally. Capable without arrogance. Strong without cruelty.

But then Silas's face intruded. Rogue. The bad boy archetype. Annoying and downright stupid sometimes but carrying an undeniable charm in his dangerous competence.

Why am I even considering this?Bessia thought with internal frustration.

Celestine watched her roommate's expression shift, reading the internal debate with obvious amusement.

"You're thinking about someone," Celestine observed. "Multiple someones. This is excellent. Tell me everything."

"There's nothing to tell," Bessia protested weakly.

"Yet," Celestine corrected. "Nothing to tell yet. But the Academy is three years. Plenty of time for nothing to become something."

Three years, Bessia thought. Three years of proximity, training, and shared experience.

*Better to focus on advancement. On development rather than distracted by romantic tangles.*

But her mind kept returning to those faces. Kept cataloging attraction despite her rational dismissal.

Later, Bessia decided. *Worry about that later.

-----

Elsewhere,

The library's core database was simultaneously impressive and disappointing.

Impressive because it contained thousands of documented cores—every common drop, hundreds of uncommon variants, dozens of rare abilities from obscure Crawlers across Republic territory.

Disappointing because they were expensive and not suited for his needs.

Bright scrolled through high-tier options with growing frustration, watching costs escalate beyond his converted merit's purchasing power.

Four hundred coins, he thought, reviewing his Academy account balance. An amount substantial for a first-year.

He'd already spoken with Duncan about the conversion process—merit points from the outpost service translated to Academy Coins at a favorable ratio.

But still not enough for rare cores, Bright recognized.

His current cores were his foundation: Spatial Foresight (fusion of Danger Sense and Spatial Awareness) and Body Enhancement.

Thank the night I chose Body Enhancement, Bright thought. It was a solid choice that didn't draw excessive attention. It was also common and subtle enough that people didn't scrutinize or realize.

But choosing another core—the one that would merge with his body enhancement—that required careful consideration.

I'm in Central now, Bright reminded himself. Everything would bedocumented. Every core absorption tracked. Every capability catalogued for future reference.

Can't be too flashy. Can't reveal my soul talent's potential.

He filtered database for mid-range costs—cores between 150-250 Academy Coins that might provide a more suited capability without breaking budget.

The results were… adequate. Functional. Boring.

Enhanced Reflexes- 180 coins

Common combat enhancement. Stackable with existing capabilities

Damage Resistance - 200 coins

Defensive augmentation. Reduces injury severity.

lightning surge - 160 coins

Highly lethal bolt of lightning, an attack core for group fights.

All useful, Bright assessed. All compatible. All completely uninspiring.

He expanded his search parameters, looking at lower cost ranges—uncommon and common cores that most candidates dismissed as inadequate for serious builds.

The cheaper options appeared—dozens of cores priced under 100 coins, abilities that were common drops or had limited applications or carried significant drawbacks.

Bright scrolled without much hope, expecting nothing revolutionary.

Then stopped.

Spatial Body- 45 coins

Obscure core from Reality-Touched Crawler variant

Effect: Allows body to occupy liminal space between physical and spatial dimensions

Drawbacks: Extreme energy consumption, unstable manifestation, requires exceptional spatial awareness to prevent dimensional fragmentation

Warning: High failure rate during integration. Recommended only for candidates with existing spatial manipulation capabilities

Classification: Experimental/Dangerous

Bright read the description three times, his spatial foresight already processing the implications.

Spatial Body, he thought. An ability to exist partially outside normal physical space.

The warnings were severe. The drawbacks significant. The experimental classification suggesting the Academy wasn't confident in core's viability.

But it's forty-five coins, Bright recognized. Cheap because it's dangerous and most candidates lack framework to use it safely.

I have that framework. Spatial Foresight provides exactly the awareness needed to prevent dimensional fragmentation. Body Enhancement might help manage physical stress of liminal existence.

And if I can fuse it—

His mind raced through possibilities. Spatial Body working in tandem with his Spatial Foresight could create capability to perceive and occupy multiple dimensional layers simultaneously. Could enable movement that transcended normal physical constraints.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.