To Deon, this place was nothing short of heaven. The fresh breeze rubbed against his face. If the awakening center had been the womb, this was the world: bright, open, and free.
"Behold, World," Deon spoke, arms thrown wide, lungs at max capacity.
A vast, vast campus. Magnificent structures, green hills, and grass stretched as far as the eye could see. Uneven clusters of black and white buildings, architecture that rose and fell against the grass fields that lay just behind the entrance gate. The only way in. A massive red doorless gate.
The gate itself was pure steel, with visible black circuit lines running across its worn coat of red paint. It made sense for the gate to be as big as it was. They had a history of hauling war mechs through it. The gate was easily big enough to fit a 15-story building.
The campus lay within the bounds of a mere inch-thick grey wall, one low enough that a toddler could vault over it. The small, insignificant wall connected to the gate, meeting it on one side before continuing to stretch on over the other. If you asked anyone whether it would hold up as good security, they'd laugh. Calling it a wall would be a joke. It was more a boundary assembled with blocks of iron and stone. Closer to paint across a soccer field.
But the wall was not the barrier. The veil was.
Wham!
A crow struck the invisible barrier. For one bright instant, its feathers flashed orange. Then came the sharp smell of scorched meat, and the bird collapsed into ash.
"P—! No! Why would it do that?" a student screamed before falling to his knees just feet away from the border.
"Oooh, that's nasty," Deon commented in recoil, his hand raised to his nose, legs front, shoulder facing. "Don't reckon it normally fries birds..."
"Come on, students. Please use only the gate to enter. Do not try to vault the wall. I know it's tiny and you can jump over it, but you cannot jump over the veil. It will disintegrate you," an assistant instructor's voice called out immediately. She was scrawny but well dressed, and forced to yell her instructions. "We are experiencing heightened security; please follow procedures."
"Oh, we don't like this... we're seeing the effects already, huh?" said one of the passing students, kneeling to comfort the poor kid who had just lost his pet. "Sorry, man. That fucker has it coming, you'll see."
"Good Morning—$#Good Afternoon#$—&($5Just follow the crowd—" The hologram flickered, tore apart, and restarted as Deon and Sidra slowly passed by it. "Orderly@#Orderly Fashion—"
"Whoa... that's not a good look," said one of the students who had gathered around it. He was well built, muscular, and tall, with torn sleeves and unkempt hair reaching down to the tip of his nose. His fingers rested against his chin, his back bent, and his face practically buried inside the hologram.
"Day one, too, with freshmen and all," said another, inspecting the faulty machine. This student had a much smaller frame. Crouched on the ground, his fingers tracing the device's circumference. Compared to the slightly brutish one, this one gave out the vibes of a sickly person.
"Well, it's embedded in the ground... One of the older luxury models... Maintenance would be hell..." said yet another. A fairly ordinary-looking student with hair dyed a reddish-brown hue. The only one so far one could call the most normal in terms of presentation.
"Don't see how that's a problem. Thought we were rich?" said another, an even more boring and forgettable student.
"Not anymore. Guess Shay's newly passed bills are taking effect..." replied the one with the dyed hair.
"That piece of shit..." the smaller student, crouched beside the device, cursed.
"That guy will doom us all!" said the larger student, reeling his upper body back before standing upright again.
"Not good," Sidra murmured, standing right beside Deon, who had paused to look back and listen in on the conversation regarding the hologram.
"Not good signs indeed!" An angelic, disorienting voice followed, accompanied by a sudden weight on Deon's shoulders.
It was none other than Luke, who had snuck up on the two of them. His forearms rested on Deon's and Sidra's shoulders, his head hovering between theirs.
"Oh great, making friends already," Sidra muttered, sliding his arm off her shoulder.
"Hey, we're both freshmen, no? Why is your uniform... different from ours?" Deon asked, almost as soon as his head turned to face him, his gaze flicking between the two outfits. The Wolfgrimm brat had come fitted.
Whilst his own was painfully plain: a navy, stand-collared coat with a row of gold buttons down the front, thin gold piping along the hems and pockets, and a tiny crest stitched over the chest. Of course, accompanied by dull matching trousers. A look pulled straight out of a generic high school anime.
Luke's, on the other hand, looked like it came from a rival institution. His coat was black and unbuttoned, traced with neon green piping that glowed against the dark fabric, with a high, flared collar lined in the same acid green and armored-looking epaulettes on the shoulders.
Deon bit his lip in envy. His eyes shrank and his face grew grooves. Fashion was important to Deon.
Like, what's up? Deon wondered. There could be no possible privilege or exception in the entirety of Extract that the Wolfgrimms could boast that the Ashers could not. If there was privilege to be had, Deon would.
And so Luke stood there in all his clean drip, much to Deon's envy.
The shirt beneath his coat sported a disorienting pattern, mostly hidden by a lime-green tie marked with a sharp geometric emblem of hunters. Not to mention the belt, which bore the same logo as the tie, only glowing green, cinched at his waist.
Deon tried to avert his gaze but couldn't. To be allowed to stand out like that was, to Deon, a grave offense, made worse because of him being on the losing end of the unfairness.
And as if it weren't enough, heavy flap pockets sat on both hips, and a reflective armband with a stenciled label wrapped one sleeve. Even his cuffs were fitted with armored green bracers, and his black gloves had glowing marks on the backs.
It was the epitome of everything Deon loved.
It was only borderline a school uniform. That thing would absolutely double as combat wear: buckles and straps from top to bottom. He looked more fit for a fashion show than a classroom, a fashion show Deon would love to be a part of.
"Ah, this... I guess you'll find out soon," Luke said, his smile dimming a little. "There's been... stuff."
Deon noticed Sidra's eyes narrow just past Luke's awkward expression as he said it.
"But hey, don't be jealous, my friend. This is going to be the new standard going forward. Why don't you meet me at day's end? I'll fit you and your pal here with a pair. A secret special one. Free of cost," he continued, the last two sentences all a whisper, with his lips right next to his ear and a hand to help cover. Having said that, he dashed, waving his hand as he left the two and rushed ahead.
"Awesome," Deon muttered, chasing after him. "Popularity and fame, here I come!" he screamed, a sudden burst of random adrenaline shutting down his logic centers as his legs kicked up speed and he ran through the gate.
There had already been enough cortisol and brain activity for Deon that day. It was now time to be himself.
To be continued==>