Chapter 7: Academy Orientation (1)

"No weapons allowed outside of the training grounds, cadet. I'll take it that you were unaware of what you were doing and turn a blind eye to this, but the next time I find you carrying a weapon, I'll put you down myself and send you to solitary. Understood?!" roared the driver of the hastram. He was dressed in attire similar to the doctor who had just treated Cehedia, except his greatcoat was green, and his badge had five white circles.

Cehedia quickly dismissed the weapon before walking on board the hastram, ignoring the somewhat intimidating glare that the driver was giving him. The driver clicked his tongue as he closed the doors behind Cehedia, before putting the hastram into full drive, speeding down the tracks.

"How does a cadet know how to form a blade?" 

"Probably a repeater from another camp."

"Stop assuming, you know repeating isn't an option in the military. Failures become..."

Cehedia tried his best to block out the whispers that wandered from some of the other students, though it was sort of hard when the entire hastram seemed to be interested in him. A few of the glares that fell on him were more malicious than the others, but it was nothing that he wasn't used to. In fact, that sort of glare was the best he could hope for back in the shanty districts. 

Trying to find something to distract himself, he began looking around the hastram. It was a peculiar form of transport, though to be fair Cehedia had to admit to himself that he had only seen a bus for the first time but a day ago, so he couldn't exactly call himself an expert on the matter. There were no seats, meaning all the students had to stand, their hands gripping onto the silver bars that ran along the roof of the hastram to prevent themselves falling. This actually took quite the effort for Cehedia to manage, as the unearthly speed of the hastram made it hard for him to stand straight. Though looking around, everyone else seemed comfortable with it, in fact, a few of the students wearing orange and red vinyl'd jackets were standing without the need for the bars at all.

[This is unnatural,] thought Cehedia as he gripped the bar even tighter. 

After finding that there was nothing much to look at anymore he decided to shut his eyes and try to recall what happened during the exams.

[No can do. My memories, not yours.]

"Shut up," whispered Cehedia in response.

"Oh, did you say something?" 

Cehedia instantly opened his eyes, sensing the ill intent that oozed from in front of him. His senses weren't wrong, in front of him stood two massive students, both of them wearing red jackets with two circles on their badges. 

"I asked if you said something? Were we perhaps interrupting your sleep?" asked the boy once again, moving a tad closer to Cehedia, invading what Cehedia called his survival zone. Back where he was from, if anyone stepped too close to you it was probably for reasons other than giving you a hug. One had to grow a habit of launching at anything that stepped too close, it was either that or risk being robbed and killed on the spot, or much worse, drugged and sold as someone's plaything.

Cehedia suppressed his urge to slit the boy's throat, nothing good would come from spilling blood in a public place. And besides, he had a strange feeling that his blades wouldn't work on the boy who stood in front of him. Though it was somewhat apparent before, now that one of the other students was right in front he became painfully aware that compared to them, he seemed like a mouse. Nothing about anyone on that hastram was natural, and Cehedia finally figured out why that was. 

Dhia frames. Everyone on the hastram was outfitted with one, which was evident by the silver-red gleam in the boy's eyes.

"Deren, he probably wasn't even talking to us. He whispered it after all," interrupted the boy's colleague, his calm voice like cool water to the crackling embers which seemed to radiate from Deren.

"Then why doesn't he say anything? Plus I don't like the way he's staring at me," said Deren, his eyes twitching somewhat as he stared at Cehedia.

[Stab him in the throat. If I help you it will be easy. He won't even know what hit him.]

"Well?" asked Deren once again, interrupting the voice that whispered into Cehedia's mind.

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"T-to myself. I-I was talking to myself," replied Cehedia, trying his best to push the voice back to a corner of his mind, while at the same making sure that he didn't act on instinct and try to get rid of the threat in front of him.

"Pfft, cadets are always such poor sports. I was just messing around, I didn't mean to spook the little thing," said Deren haughtily before walking away with his colleague.

"D-Douchebag," whispered Cehedia, this time softer.

"The entrance exams this year must've been easy," commented a few of the other students once the tension in the air had died down.

"I hate it here already."

***

{Kaion Hall}, announced the driver through the hastram's intercoms right before the hastram came to a halt beside a massive square building. The building had metallic walls that seemed to distort the air around it, its color was the same aged brown that most of the other buildings here seemed to have. The only way of distinguishing it from the others was perhaps the sign inscribed [Kaion Hall] right on top of its double doors. Once the hastram doors opened Cehedia jumped out, glad to be out of that thing. 

There was no front desk in Kaion Hall, just a lounge with what seemed like a fireplace on one side and several paintings of military men all along the walls.

"Is this real?" wondered Cehedia as he walked towards the fireplace. Though his jacket was regulating the temperature, he though it odd that he couldn't feel any extra heat emanating from the fire place.

"No, it's not. The buildings don't require heating, the temperature is regulated artificially to make sure you guppies don't freeze to death." The voice came like a sudden boom from behind him, startling him so much that he had his blackened blade in his hands before he knew it.

"Hmm, at least your reflexes are better than the others. But the use of weapons outside of the training grounds is prohibited, especially when it was pulled out with the intent to harm an officer. Since it's your first day and have yet to receive your orientation I will go easy on you. You will serve your solitary after your orientation," said the man.

He was a somewhat massive man, probably in his late 50s, though Cehedia inferred this from his greying hair and not his physique. He could've been mistaken for a man in his prime otherwise. He wore a black greatcoat with a star enclosed by five white circles on his badge. He had dark circles around his eyes -like he hadn't slept for a few days- and a noticeable scar that ran from his right eye all the way to his right cheek. As he stared down at Cehedia the cigarette in his mouth let out a trail of smoke, its smell suffocating.

"Understood, Cadet?" asked the man, his hands cuffed behind his back as he towered over Cehedia.

"Understood," replied Cehedia without even thinking. The man just had that air of authority about him, he felt compelled to reply submissively.

"Now, you must be the Cadet who was admitted to the infirmary. Your room is C102, I've taken the liberty of having one of your roommates place everything you need on your bed. Orientation will take place tomorrow, take this time to settle in and get to know your residence mates."

"Enjoy your warm bed while you can, I'll be waiting in solitary right after orientation," said the man before walking out of the lounge area.

Cehedia drooped his head and walked up the stairs in search of the C-block, it seemed like his luck hadn't much changed since he left home.

"This is the fifth cadet who can already summon weapons. I can tell I'll be in for a violent group this time around," sighed the man as he let out a puff of smoke before wandering through the snow.

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