Chapter song: Prey - The Neighborhood
It had been two whole weeks since Kenneth had arrived in this world and entered the academy. Things were finally starting to make sense to him, at least that's what he thought until recently.
Kenneth had decided he'd ignore whatever this was, burying it deep inside the membranes of his consciousness. Because that was the healthy thing to do. Suppress, suppress, suppress.
Today was the day they would undergo their compatibility tests.
"This is the day most of you were all waiting for," Instructor Barnes said as his eyes swept across the room.
"Yeah, a day a certain anchor has definitely been looking forward to," Yoosung said as he eyed Fae, whose eyes were already sparkling with excitement.
"How could I not be excited? Comparability is linked to fate. A Striker and Anchor, getting together, meant to be. It's so precious."
The young man scoffed. "How simple-minded."
"What was that?"
"I didn't say anything."
Fae frowned, making Yoosung pat her on the shoulder. "You should smile more, Fae. Perhaps your fated Striker will fall on your lap that way."
She scowled in response.
"Taking a compatibility test is essential for your time here at Toleran. There will be times when you overexert yourself and need some quick anchoring. Knowing who you have a high compatibility with will help you, and in some dire cases, save your life."
He pulled out his datapad and reflected what was displayed on it on the big screen. He showed a chart that displayed varying scores. Everything was divided into three categories: green, yellow, and red.
"As you all can see, the numbers belonging in the green are what you want to aim for, while those in the red are what you want to avoid. Yellow is pretty much in the middle. It's a neutral spot, meaning it won't have any direct side effects when it comes to anchoring."
He started with the green section, enlarging the graft. "Any score between 60-100 is in the green. Now these numbers aren't exact. As I said, this isn't an exact science. The numbers change depending on the anchor and Striker. No one has ever achieved 100% before. The highest score we've ever seen is in the low seventies to high eighties. Don't expect anything higher than that, and don't feel bad if you score low with an anchor or Striker either. Just like personalities often clash, the same goes for energies. That's just how synergy works."
He then moved to the yellow. "Anything between 30 and 50 falls under the yellow category."
Barnes tapped the datapad again, zooming in on the yellow section. "Now, the yellow range, thirty to fifty, is what we call moderate compatibility. It's the most common result you'll see. Anchoring in this range is stable but not always optimal. You can work with each other without major backlash, but you won't experience much enhancement either. Think of it like two people running in sync but at different paces; you'll keep up, but you'll never quite hit top speed. Most temporary partnerships fall here. It's safe, manageable, and reliable in the field."
He swiped once more, and the red section expanded on the screen. "Now, the red zone, anything below thirty is where things get tricky. Anchoring with someone in this range is… ill-advised. It doesn't just drain energy; it can destabilize it. The connection between the Anchor and Striker becomes volatile, almost parasitic. The Striker's output might spike for a few seconds, but the Anchor pays the price. Physical exhaustion, mental overload, sometimes even neural backlash. If you're unlucky, you'll both collapse. and if you're really unlucky—" he paused, letting the silence stretch, "—you could fry your link permanently."
A murmur ran through the class. Barnes continued. "That's why we run compatibility assessments before pairings are made. Red matches are not forbidden, but they are heavily regulated. Only advanced Anchors with proper training can handle them for short durations. And even then, it's a gamble."
He let the red fade, bringing back the full color chart. "Now, before you start getting nervous, yes, green pairings are ideal, but remember: every category has its place. Yellow pairs build stamina and adaptability. Red pairs, in rare controlled cases, push boundaries and help us understand how anchoring evolves. Green pairs, though—they're the ones who change the game. Those are the duos that move as one. Their resonance doesn't just strengthen a Striker, it refines them. The anchor becomes their balance point, and the Striker, their weapon."
His gaze swept over the class. "That's why compatibility isn't just numbers. It's about instinct. Resonance. Sometimes, you'll feel it before the data even confirms it. And when that happens…" His tone softened, just slightly. "You'll know."
He switched the screen off. "Now, with that out of the way, I'll call in a special guest who will help conduct your tests."
The doors at the front of the hall opened.
Every head turned as the woman stepped in, her presence immediately altering the room's atmosphere. The tension that had been building from Barnes's lecture melted into something calmer, but beneath that serenity was a precision so keen it made even the most confident students straighten their posture.
"Instructor Barnes, always a pleasure," she greeted, her voice sweet like honey.
Barnes smiled faintly, an expression that was rare enough to make a few students exchange surprised looks. "The pleasure's mine, Eden. I appreciate you making the time."
She waved her hand lightly, as if brushing away the compliment. "When it comes to first-year anchoring assessments, I wouldn't miss it."
Kenneth found himself staring before he realized it. Her wavy brown hair cascaded over her shoulders like silk, catching the light in soft ripples. Her complexion was perfect, peaches and cream smooth with pinkish-brown eyes that resembled cherry blossoms blooming in early spring.
Is this an anchor thing? He wondered.
Every single one he'd met thus far had looks that could topple the economy of a nation, setting a beauty standard so high you'd have to pay millions of dollars to achieve.
"Everyone," Barnes announced, turning back to the class, "this is Eden, a Fifth Division anchor here at Toleran. She is one of the people in charge of the anchoring Centres. She'll be overseeing your compatibility tests today."
Her soft smile didn't falter as she scanned the room. "Good morning, everyone. It's nice to meet this school's next generation of soldiers. I have high expectations for your guys and hope you'll meet them."
Though her tone was kind, Kenneth could detect a sharpness in her eyes. Barnes gestured toward the side door, where several sleek machines were being wheeled in, each one fitted with thin, glass-like headbands and glowing conduits. The anchoring Centre has provided us with portable resonance units. You'll be paired off shortly to begin baseline compatibility testing."
Eden clasped her hands together, her tone soothing but firm. "Before we begin, remember this: anchoring is not about dominance or control. It's about harmony. The moment you try to overpower a connection, you'll lose it. Breathe, focus, and listen to yourself, and to the energy in front of you."
Kenneth felt something stir in his chest at her words. He wasn't sure if it was curiosity or unease.
The class was put into groups of four. They would begin their sessions for five minutes. The key wasn't to stabilize the anchor completely, but to see whether a stable connection could be formed among them.
Kenneth's group consisted of Yoosung, Lennon, and Fae. Fae paired up with Yoosung, while Kenneth paired with Lennon.
"Now, anchors, forming a connection begins with a simple touch. You can hold your Striker's hand or place your palm somewhere that feels comfortable for both of you. What matters most is consent. Once you've gotten clear permission from your Striker and given your own in return, you can begin.
The process itself is simple. Close your eyes and start channeling your energy, slowly at first. Every anchor experiences this differently, but when I connect with a Striker's mind, I picture a vast sea. The colour changes from person to person, but the form is always the same. Your goal is to merge your current with theirs, to pour your own water into that sea.
When the connection takes hold, you'll know. Strikers, your job is to let yourself be felt. Don't resist the energy coming in. Let it flow through you. What happens next is what really matters. Do you feel resistance? A wall? Like you're being pushed out, or that your mind is about to split open? Or maybe the opposite, a pull, a calm, a sense of balance.
A timer will sound after five minutes. When it does, cut the connection, but do it gently. Don't tear it apart. Let it fade naturally."
Lennon looked down at his hand, then back up at Kenneth, awkwardly handing him his hand with a crooked smile. "I guess I'm giving you permission," he said, before wincing. "No, not I guess. I am."
Kenneth gave him a faint smile as he reached for the hand that was being offered to him. It was warm, rough in some places, calloused from training, but warm nonetheless.
"Ready?"
"Yeah," Lennon said, straightening his shoulders.
Kenneth nodded once, closed his eyes, and focused on the sensation of touch—the weight and warmth of Lennon's palm against his. At first, there was only silence, and he wondered if he was doing this right. Part of him felt a little ridiculous sitting here, holding some guy's hand and hoping for something to happen.
He almost doubted anything would until something began to stir, faint but alive, like static running beneath his skin. His body shook.
What in the world?
He was about to move his body when Eden's words rang in his head again. He didn't panic; he slowed his breathing, focusing on the feeling instead, letting it build until it spread through his chest and into his arms.
It wasn't light or sound exactly, it was feeling.
And when he focused harder, a vivid image bloomed in his mind: a vast pit of earth, hollow and dry, waiting to be filled. Above it, golden sand spun in the air like dust caught in sunlight, swirling and drifting downward in soft waves. It wasn't a sea of water as Eden had described; then again, she did say that it would be different for everyone.
It gathered slowly, pouring into the pit, each grain shimmering as it fell.
Kenneth didn't know how he was doing it, but it felt instinctive, almost natural. His control was steady, measured; he didn't have to force it. The golden sand flowed more smoothly, filling the pit until it began to glow faintly at its base.
Across the room, Eden moved between groups, checking the readings on her datapad. When she reached Kenneth and Lennon, she froze.
"…What the hell?"
The numbers on the testing monitor were climbing rapidly—60%, 62%, 65%.
Her eyes widened as it hit 67%. "Barnes," she called quietly.
The older instructor came over, brows furrowing. When he saw the screen, his expression hardened with disbelief. "Sixty-seven percent… already?" he muttered. "That's nearly record-level."
Back at the table, Kenneth could feel the energy circulating through him like a current, steady and bright. His pulse had evened out, his mind clearer than it had been in days. Lennon, on the other hand, felt a rush of vitality flood his system. His muscles felt lighter, the constant weight in his chest gone.
He hadn't realized how much strain he'd been carrying until now—until Kenneth's energy started filling the cracks.
When the timer finally beeped, Kenneth exhaled and carefully pulled back. The golden sand in his mind receded, fading into light. He opened his eyes to find Lennon staring at him, wide-eyed but smiling.
"…Is that what anchoring is supposed to feel like? Cause if it is sign me the hell up."
Kenneth nodded, flexing his fingers once before letting go. "Yeah…"
Eden studied Kenneth with narrowed eyes before she glanced at her datapad once more. The score had gone up by three percent. She couldn't believe it.
She glanced down at the name written on top of the chart. "Kenneth Grey…"
Now that the timer had gone off, it was time to switch partners. Kenneth anchored with Yoosung, who looked and felt refreshed after their short session. This went on until everyone had been tested.
"Good work, everyone, and thank you for your cooperation," Eden said once they'd settled back to their places.
"As you can see, anchoring can be a smooth process, and it can also get rocky pretty quickly. You've all taken your first steps at building a connection, so pat yourselves on the back. Now, your scores will be given to you next class, and again, don't worry if your compatibility is lower than you thought. They can always change. Though your class does affect them in which you anchor and receive anchoring, this process can be done by anyone."
Instructor Barnes nodded before stepping forward. "Eden is right. You've all got to start somewhere, so don't worry about the numbers too much. With that, I'll end our class here. If you can, practice anchoring with a trusted friend whenever you can. The more you do it, the better you'll get."
With class dismissed, Kenneth and the rest of his group left in high spirits.
"I think that was the best class we've had so far," Fae said, her face brightening.
"It was. To think anchoring would be that beneficial," Andrei said.
"Still, your anchoring was impressive, Kenneth. You don't give the vibe of someone who could be so warm and soothing."
Kenneth's lips twitched. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Lennon let out an awkward laugh. "Haha, what Yoosung is trying to say is, your ability to keep people stable is amazing."
"That's exactly what I said, why repeat it?"
Fae laughed. "Still waters run deep, I guess."
"Right~"