Academy eyes

The doctor made a note on his tablet before looking at the three Lifted still lingering near Ash's bed.

"You can leave now," he said simply. "The Academy wants to speak with him privately."

The older guy gave Ash one last scrutinizing glance but didn't argue, pushing off the wall and heading toward the door. The other one followed without a word.

The girl hesitated.

Ash could feel her eyes still on him, like she had something else to say.

Then, just as she reached the doorway, she snapped her fingers as if remembering something.

"Oh, right—my name."

She turned slightly, smirking. "It's Rei."

The name settled between them, weightless compared to the one she had given him.

She rolled her shoulders, stepping fully into the hall. "Hope to see you around, Ash."

Ash met her gaze for a moment before shrugging. "...Sure."

She let out a quiet breath of amusement before the door shut behind her.

And then—he was alone with the doctor.

The older man barely gave him a moment to breathe before continuing.

"The professors at the Academy want to see you," he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. "They don't like unexplained anomalies. And you, my boy, are a walking question mark."

Ash stared at him, still feeling the lingering exhaustion in his bones.

"They want to interrogate me?"

"Question. Observe. Decide what the hell to do with you." The doctor shrugged. "Call it whatever makes you feel better."

Ash exhaled, shifting against the hospital bed. He barely had the energy to sit up, let alone deal with Academy politics.

But he didn't have a choice.

The doctor tilted his head slightly. "You've never seen the Academy, have you?"

Ash shook his head.

The Outskirts had always been his prison. The world of the Lifted might as well have been another universe entirely.

The doctor considered him for a moment before offering, "I can show you around on the way."

Ash narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why?"

A small smirk. "Call it professional curiosity."

Ash wasn't sure if he believed that. But he also didn't care enough to argue.

"...Fine."

The doctor pressed a button on the wall, and the bed's restraints unlocked with a soft hiss.

"Then let's get you on your feet, Ash."The professor's gaze was sharp, cutting through Ash like he was something to be dissected.

"You're thin," he said bluntly. "Malnourished. Short for your age."

Ash didn't react. He'd heard worse.

The professor hummed, his eyes studying every detail—the way Ash's clothes still hung loosely on his frame, the way his movements were slightly off, his body still aching from injuries that hadn't fully healed.

"It must have been tough in the Outskirts."

Ash glanced at him. "What do you think?"

The professor exhaled through his nose, neither agreeing nor arguing.

Instead, he gestured for Ash to follow. "Come. I'll show you around the Academy while we talk."

Ash walked beside him, feeling the weight of every glance thrown his way. Lifted moved through the halls with effortless precision, their uniforms crisp, their postures straight.

And then there was him.

A stray from the ruins, dragged into a world that wasn't his.

The professor spoke as they walked. "Most Lifted undergo training from the moment they awaken. Their power is refined, honed under guidance. But you… you had no such luxury."

Ash remained silent.

The professor studied his reaction, then asked, "Do you even know your own age?"

Ash paused for a second before answering.

"I don't know my exact age," he admitted. "But I'm no less than seventeen."There was a pause.

Then a voice from behind cut in—the doctor.

"Actually, you're fifteen."

Ash's head snapped toward him.

The doctor adjusted his coat, holding a tablet in one hand. "I ran some tests while you were unconscious. Your body's development, bone structure, growth patterns—everything points to you being fifteen years old."

A beat of silence.

"And," the doctor added, "you didn't turn fifteen too long ago."

Ash felt something cold settle in his chest.

Fifteen.

He'd thought he was older—at least sixteen, maybe more. The years in the Outskirts had blurred together, time measured in survival, in nights spent hungry and cold. He had never needed to know his exact age. It hadn't mattered.

But now, standing in the heart of the Academy, surrounded by those who had been training their entire lives, it suddenly did.

Fifteen.

He was younger than he thought. Younger than all of them.

The professor raised an eyebrow. "That means you were even younger when you survived the Outskirts alone."

Ash clenched his jaw, looking away. What did it matter?

The doctor sighed, stepping beside him. "It matters because your body isn't where it should be for your age. You're malnourished. Stunted. That kind of deprivation has long-term effects."

Ash didn't respond.

He didn't care about long-term effects. He was still here. That was all that mattered.

The professor studied him a moment longer before speaking. "Regardless, you're in the Academy now. That means you'll be assessed properly—your abilities, your endurance, your control. Whether you like it or not, you're part of this now."

Ash scoffed under his breath. Part of this?

No.

He wasn't one of them.

He wasn't here because he wanted to be.

He was here because the Trial had dragged him in.

And now, they wanted to see if he was worth keeping.

Ash exhaled sharply and looked back at the professor. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

The professor smirked slightly. "Good."

And with that, they stepped into the testing hall,where nine figures stood.