Kenneth's next class was combat strategy, a favourite of his. He was especially happy to assist the class because they would be running mock simulations to prepare them for real simulations in the Tactical Training Course, which would ultimately prepare them for real combat in the field.
The Combat Strategy Course served one purpose: to make sure every cadet who walked into a real battlefield walked out of it alive.
It wasn't just about fighting. It was about reading the field, predicting an opponent's movements, understanding when to attack and when to retreat. Strategy was what separated the Strikers and Anchors who survived from those who didn't. Every decision, every motion, every heartbeat mattered once you stepped into live combat, and this course was designed to drill that reality into them until it became instinct.
As he entered the classroom, Lennon and Fae were already seated, but he was surprised to see the person sitting next to the curly-haired cinnamon roll. Durian. Kenneth lifted his brows in surprise, but didn't say anything as he took a seat on Lennon's left.
He could tell the two were dying to know how the tests with Lucien went. "I'll tell you guys, later," he assured them.
Just then, the Instructor for the class entered—Leila Stein. Her long, black hair was styled elegantly in a braided bun, with a few pieces sticking out at the ends. She had black, sleek glasses with a face painted delicately with makeup. She wore the signature navy uniform and faced the class with a warm smile. "Good morning, class," she greeted.
As the lights dimmed slightly, the large screen behind Instructor Stein flickered to life, displaying a holographic map of a ruined city.
"Today, we'll be covering situational adaptability," she said, her voice calm but firm. "In the field, chaos is the only constant. If you can't adapt, you die. It's that simple."
Her words carried the weight of experience. Everyone in the room straightened a little.
Stein tapped on her tablet, and the hologram shifted, showing figures moving through debris-strewn streets. "Anchors and Strikers must learn how to move as a single unit. You'll practice identifying vantage points, reading cover terrain, and protecting your partner while maintaining your line of sight."
Kenneth watched, intrigued. The visuals reminded him of the early days of his soldier training, long, grueling drills, endless lectures about battlefield positioning, and the hard-earned lessons that taught him survival was as much about intellect as instinct.
"The difference here," Leila continued, "is that you're not just soldiers anymore. You're pairs. Everything you do affects someone else's life. anchors, your positioning will determine how much strain your Striker endures. Strikers, your awareness decides whether your anchor makes it back in one piece."
Her gaze swept over the class, landing briefly on Kenneth. "So when we move into simulations later, I expect you all to remember, victory isn't about who lands the hardest hit. It's about who keeps their partner alive long enough to finish the fight."
Kenneth nodded slightly. It was a simple enough principle, but one that could mean everything out there.
After an hour of teaching, it was finally time to move on to the simulations. The class was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of entering a virtual world and getting to test out the things they'd learned over the course of a few weeks.
They filed up the narrow stairwell behind the lecture hall and spilled into the simulation bay above it. Rows of stations lined the walls like a clinic for combat. Each station had a reclining chair, a halo-frame VR rig, haptic gloves, and a small console showing the scenario parameters. Screens overhead counted down the minutes until the exercises began.
"Form into teams of four," Leila said, voice carrying across the room. "Two anchors, two Strikers per group. When you have a station, power up and wait for my signal. There will be a total of three scenarios, twenty minutes each. Communication is key here, and that also means forming a game plan before you enter your scenarios, too. And remember, this is about the pair, not the lone wolf."
Kenneth, Lennon, Fae, and Durian found a vacant station near the center and gathered around the tabletop holo to sketch their plan. The console displayed the first mission summary in blocky text:
EXTRACT CIVILIAN — URBAN SECTOR, HOSTILE PRESENCE KNOWN. TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.
"It's a simple extraction," Kenneth said, fingers tapping a virtual map. "Kid's inside a three-story building on Grid 14. Two main entrance points, windows at the rear—structural damage on the north side. Hostiles patrol the street and rooftop. We'll need perimeter control, stealth down the hallway, quick neutralization of any threats near the room, extract, and exfil via an alley to the southwest."
Lennon traced routes with his hand, nodding. "I can move quickly inside, flank, and draw attention if needed. Kenneth, you and Fae handle anchor-assist and stabilise the kid if needed."
Fae slid a hand over Kenneth's shoulder in a tiny, encouraging squeeze. "I'll handle crowd control and any medical stabilization. Keep him calm, keep him breathing."
Durian snorted. "Or," he cut in, "we kick the door, blast in, I grab the kid, we go. Quick and easy."
Kenneth's jaw tightened. He pictured the building: fragile walls, innocent bystanders, crossfire lines. "and get mowed down in the doorway? No. Rushing in increases exposure. You want speed? We do speed with cover. We do it in coordination. If you go loud, you draw all the hostiles. Keeping the kid safe is our top priority."
Durian rolled his shoulders. "We don't have time for your weakass strategy, anchor. It's a rescue, in and out. Stop overcomplicating things."
"Me 'overcomplicating' things is me saving your life," Kenneth said calmly, but there was a firmness in his tone that Durian didn't miss. His golden eyes flared.
Lennon raised his hand. "We should vote. This is a team decision."
The table went quiet for a beat. Even Durian knew the simulation punished the ego.
"Hands up for coordinated entry with perimeter control," Kenneth said.
Lennon and Fae raised their hands without hesitation. Durian gave Fae a glance, as if betrayed by the fact that she would dare side with Kenneth instead of him. Realizing he was alone in this, he lifted a single finger in reluctant compliance. Two votes for Kenneth's plan, one begrudging assent from Durian. Strategy won.
"Good," Kenneth said, voice steady.
"Here are the roles: Lennon, you'll be the point man inside, keep movement unpredictable. Durian, you'll be on roof watch. Fae, you're on med, and Anchor hold. I'll clear the approach and coordinate comms."