Elimination

The hall was filled with a series of shocked gasps. Some whispered quietly, asking questions, while others openly voiced their outrage, speaking of deception by the leadership.

— But you said that the results of the simulation wouldn't affect anything, — came a male voice from the depths of the hall. The owner of the voice was not visible, but it was clearly filled with panic, mixed with fear and notes of indignation.

— That's true, — there was a dramatic pause, heightening the group's turbulent emotions. — However, I need to clarify something here. Yes, I previously said that the results would not be taken into account, and that is true. The results will not affect further training and will not be a reason for special treatment of cadets who performed well. The conditions, training process, and evaluation are the same for everyone.

— Then why are you excluding some? — the young man interrupted Darius's monologue again. At first glance, it seemed that he ignored this, but the previously indifferent look hardened. The instructor clearly did not like it.

— It's simple, — Darius's voice had notes of irritation, and the tone lowered slightly. At the same time, he sounded as if he were explaining something simple to an annoying child. — If you knew that the results still had an impact, the percentage of successfully passing people would be much lower. In stressful situations, people tend to make mistakes even in the simplest things, — the irritation seemed to have diminished. — If it's known in advance that the test won't affect anything, then there's less stress, and, accordingly, you can show much better results. As for the expulsion, we apologize, but we do not need cadets who, in principle, will not be able to become normal pilots. I will not disclose the details of the simulations of the failed students, because they themselves know their shortcomings.

This time, there was silence. No one dared to argue with the instructor. Some of those present lowered their heads, realizing that nothing good awaited them. Their faces were far from the previously calm and slightly joyful expressions.

— And what will happen to them now? — the same voice said, much less resolutely. This time, Cassian managed to see the speaker. It was a blue-eyed blond. He had a slender build and smooth facial features. The compassionate behavior elicited a clearly positive reaction from all present, except the instructor.

— Some will be sent back to their home citadels, and some, if they want to, can stay and serve in other divisions. Provided they pass the selection, of course.

Several relieved sighs were heard from the hall, but the tension remained the same.

The doors opened, and soldiers entered the room. They looked very intimidating. In full plain gray-black armor, fully helmeted, which completely covered their faces, and with rifles in their hands.

— Now I will call the numbers of individual tokens belonging to the eliminated cadets. — at these words, Cassian's heart, and many other cadets' hearts, skipped a beat. Everyone in the room frantically began to check their tokens and at the same time silently prayed not to be called.

— B173411, B173414, B173418, and B173416. — there was a long and heavy pause. It was filled with both the joy of some and the sadness of others. — The named numbers, stand up.

The four named cadets obediently stood up, their heads bowed, looking down, realizing that their careers had ended before they even started.

Following Darius's instructions, the soldiers led the designated cadets out of the room.

— That's all for now. — Darius concluded emphatically. And, ignoring the stunned looks, he continued: — Follow me. I'll lead you to the tricons.

The remaining group, without asking questions, silently followed him. The failed cadets were apparently taken a separate way because they did not encounter them along the way.

Taking their places in the same tricon, the group waited for departure. Cassian, still sitting by the window, heard the voice of Ryuji, who broke the oppressive silence.

— I almost had a heart attack... — apparently, he was talking to Sora. — You know, their logic is strange. What if, for example, one of the eliminated decided not to give their all at the beginning? — the question was indeed reasonable and logical.

— Well, that's their problem, — Sora replied with an indifferent expression. — And it's unlikely they deliberately hid their talent. There's just no sense in that.

— True, but I still think such an assessment is wrong, — Ryuji, though without enthusiasm, defended his position.

— Maybe it's wrong, — Sora calmly agreed, but then continued: — However, there are a couple of nuances: first, you don't see the whole picture and don't know exactly what happened, second, they don't care about your opinion on this issue. — despite the meaning, he spoke calmly, simultaneously gesturing casually.

— Yeah, you're right, — Ryuji chuckled a little, leaning back in his seat and stroking his chin. — I just can't understand... how they can so easily discard people? One failed test — and that's it. They, like all of us, passed the preliminary selection tests. And they were just thrown out?

— Calm down already, you'll forget about them in an hour, so why are you outraged? — Sora replied, his voice calm but with a slight mockery.

Ryuji glanced at him, squinting his eyes.

— Tell me honestly, do you think I'm a monster? — his tone was slightly mocking, but there was a spark in his eyes, as if he said it to make Sora laugh.

— I don't think you're a monster, just stating facts. — he turned to the screen and put on headphones.

— And what do you think, Kas? — Ryuji's voice suddenly sounded, seemingly noticing his immersion. Ryuji turned to him with a curious expression.

Cassian flinched, slightly detaching from his thoughts. He met Ryuji's gaze, who was sitting across, slightly tilting his head in anticipation of an answer.

Cassian thought for a moment, not knowing how to respond. The words seemed to stick in his throat. He looked at Ryuji, whose gaze was sincere, but also showed some anxiety, as if he expected to hear some answer.

— I... I don't know, — he paused for a moment but then continued: — They failed, and that's it. If they really want to fight the Nephilim, they will join other divisions. Or try to become pilots again next year.

Ryuji watched Cassian closely, then quietly nodded, as if realizing the answer was indeed logical.

— Shut up already! They failed, so what. That's their problem, — their conversation was interrupted by Alexa, sitting next to Eliana, half-shouting. — Why are you all so worried about them?

Ryuji fell silent, slightly distracted, then said weakly:

Okay, okay, don't get upset. It's just interesting why such tough decisions. We all passed the selection, and here someone just doesn't make it and is immediately expelled.

— Stop whining already! — she was clearly losing patience. — Better worry about yourselves so you don't get expelled just like them.

— She's right, — Sora looked away from the screen. — Tomorrow will be a theoretical lesson.

Ryuji sighed and turned away, realizing it was pointless to argue. Alexa was right, and now it was important to focus on what was ahead.

— Exactly, — Cassian picked up, turning his gaze to the screen, — no one is insured.

Sora smirked and returned to his screen. Alexa, silently folding her hands on her lap, finally calmed down. The tension, although it hadn't disappeared, became somewhat easier to perceive.