By evening, the Grangewa brothers dragged their suitcases into the Class D Cadet Observation Zone.
The furnishings there were plain and austere—more like a prison cell than an apartment. This area was reserved for all cadets with a credit rating of D or below, a classification that generally implied they were unsuited for communal living.
Calvin set down his luggage and ran his fingers lightly across the surface of the bedside cabinet. A thick layer of dust clung to his fingertips.
"You shouldn't have gone to bother that girl," Calvin said quietly.
"I didn't plan on bothering her," Shawn replied, his mood oddly cheerful. He tossed aside his suitcase and flopped onto his bed in one easy motion. "I just wanted to follow and see what she was up to—but she noticed me. Did you see the look on her face? Oh, wait—you couldn't have, you were standing behind her."
Calvin didn't respond. He simply watched Shawn in silence.
"You don't believe me?" Shawn blinked innocently. "I'm not lying this time. I never meant to show myself—she ran off first, and then made a big scene without even figuring out what was going on."
"District Three's United Government is currently in a custody dispute with AHgAs over Jane Hesta," Calvin said flatly. "You're aware of that, aren't you?"
"Of course," Shawn replied, lowering his gaze, still smiling faintly. "I looked into it yesterday. And yes, I know what you're about to say—I'll behave."
Calvin gave him a long, unreadable look.
"You'd better."
---
Later that night, Hesta sat at her desk, quietly working on a craft project. The window beside her was open, letting the cool evening breeze drift through the room, gently ruffling her short hair and carrying with it the faint fragrance of the distant forest.
She had completely rearranged the layout of her room. The bed, which had originally been beside the window, was now moved to the far end of the room. Mrs. Ravet's wooden side table and carpet had been placed directly beneath the window.
If someone were to sit on the green cast-iron chair there, they would discover it offered the best view in the entire room.
To make room for the semicircular side table, Hesta had moved her desk into the corner of the room. The tabletop was scattered with bits of cardstock and crafting tools. A paper rose, its stem made of thin wire, had already begun to take shape.
Her expression was utterly focused—as if, in that moment, this was the most important and meaningful task in the world.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
Liz stepped inside.
She had just finished her shower, a towel draped loosely around her neck, and her half-damp hair still dripping with water.
"What are you working on?" Liz asked curiously, her eyes wandering around the room. She noticed the side table under the window, the double-woven rug with tiny green circular patterns on a white background, and then her gaze fell upon the glass dome on the desk—and the folded paper rose within.
Liz suddenly recalled the passage Hesta had read to her the night before and couldn't help but draw in a quiet breath.
"…My God, you really do love Edgar," she said softly.
Hesta didn't reply. Her expression tightened a little, and she moved to stand protectively in front of the glass dome. "Are we leaving now?" she asked in a low voice.
"Yes," Liz smiled. "I just came to tell you I've finished showering. You can get ready—once I change clothes, I'll take you downstairs to the gym."
"Alright," Hesta said after a pause. "…What should I bring?"
"Hahaha—just yourself," Liz replied, laughing. "You don't have to do anything tonight. Just take a look around, maybe try a few things."
Ten minutes later, the two of them arrived at the gym on the second floor.
Hesta had expected it to be busy at this hour, but to her surprise, they were the only ones there. Liz led her around the strength area, demonstrating how to use each machine and letting her try them herself.
After a few sets of bench presses at half her body weight, Hesta was exhausted. She stood up, walking slowly around the room, fanning herself to cool down. "Is it always this empty here?"
"No, usually this is the busiest time," Liz said, tossing her a bottle of water. "But today marks the start of the First-Year 'Second Awakening Special Training,' so most people applied to go to the training grounds for field combat practice."
Hesta suddenly remembered how Rego had opened the door last night, asking them to keep quiet.
"That special training Rego mentioned yesterday—was it this?"
"Yes."
"Can I go watch?"
"Not yet," Liz replied with a laugh. "Only cadets who've completed their first year or higher are eligible."
"How long does the training last?"
"It depends on the cadet," Liz explained. "The short ones last only a few hours, the longest… can go on for seven days straight."
"Afterward, they can use Bullet Time freely, right? Are there any restrictions?"
"There are…" Liz paused and looked at her curiously. "But why are you suddenly asking about that?"
Hesta frowned slightly. "…I think Shawn will come to bother me again."
"You don't have to be afraid," Liz said seriously. "If he violates the restraining order again and comes near you, he'll face immediate detention. The base enforces that strictly."
Hesta didn't respond. Liz sighed softly. "Alright, I know words alone can sound pretty hollow—"
"Was it a coincidence?" Hesta interrupted. "Right after I triggered the alarm, you arrived almost immediately."
"Yes and no," Liz replied, lifting her right arm. "The chip implanted in our arms tracks our coordinates and basic vitals inside the habitat zone. Because I'm your assigned aide, if your heart rate spikes abnormally outside training hours, I get an alert. I happened to be nearby this afternoon, so when the fire alarm went off, I came right away."
"…I see."
"So, you can trust that the base can keep you safe," Liz said reassuringly. "Whenever you're frightened or in danger, someone's already on their way to help." She flexed her arm playfully. "Besides, I know Shawn's limits. His strengths are in intelligence gathering and data analysis. In close combat? I could take on ten of him."
That finally made Hesta laugh—but even so, Liz could clearly sense that the shadow in her eyes hadn't lifted.
Puzzled, Liz sat down beside her. "You still seem worried."
"Yes." Hesta nodded.
"Would you like to tell me why?"
Hesta fell silent, searching for the right words but unable to find them. For reasons she couldn't explain, Shawn's uncanny insight into her questionnaire answers had left her deeply unsettled—especially after Liz mentioned that Shawn came from Hekla, a wasteland similar to Shortwhistle Alley.
Shawn was like a mirror, suddenly reflecting back her childhood in Shortwhistle Alley—a place steeped in death, plunder, and decay, where fear and vigilance toward the outside world were part of daily life. After she entered St. Anne's Convent, those shadows had briefly faded. But now, with Shawn's appearance, those buried instincts for survival had been completely reawakened.
Just as Shawn had recognized Hesta at a glance, Hesta had recognized him too. She knew his type—his manner of watching and following others. She was certain that no rules or restrictions could hold someone like him back. If he wanted to reappear, he would.
Liz, coming from Askeia, couldn't possibly understand that kind of intuition. Otherwise, she would never have asked why Hesta was still worried.
( End of Chapter )