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2026-02-05 15:00:53The notice was waiting on his bunk.
Not folded. Not sealed. Just placed, square, deliberate, impossible to mistake for accident. Elias stopped beside the frame and read it once without touching it, then again with the same care he applied to everything else now.Administrative review.Attendance mandatory.No delay.Sanction never arrived loudly. It arrived as form.He dressed and left the East Wing without escort. The corridor felt longer than it should have, the ligh
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Under Orders 32
The first deliberate deviation happened in plain sight.That was what unsettled Elias most when he realized it after the fact—not that he had done something different, but that he had done it cleanly, seamlessly enough that the system absorbed it without resistance.Morning drills unfolded as usual. Commands rang out. Bodies moved. Boots struck the ground in disciplined unison. From the outside, Elias was indistinguishable from the rest of the formation—precise, efficient, unremarkable.Inside, something else was happening.He adjusted his timing again.Not enough to be late. Not enough to be early. Just enough to feel the margin open beneath his feet, like a narrow ledge he could balance on if he chose. His muscles followed through without tension, his posture remained exact, but his awareness stayed half a step ahead of instruction.No correction came.Elias felt it then—the quiet confirmation. The system did not resist subtlety. It responded only to di
Under Orders 31
The corridor extended ahead of him in perfect symmetry, lights humming softly, walls bearing no trace of what had just occurred. No witness. No mark. And yet his body carried the encounter like an imprint beneath skin—subtle, undeniable.This was new.Not anticipation.Not fear.Division.He walked anyway.Each step landed with precision, but something inside him lagged a fraction behind, as if awareness and instinct were no longer perfectly aligned. He reached the dorm, paused with his hand on the handle, then released it without entering.Instead, he leaned his forehead briefly against the cool metal.He had not been touched.That was the problem.Sleep came late and shallow.When it did, it was not dreams that surfaced, but sensation—distance measured too carefully, silence weighted with intention, the controlled restraint of a hand that never made contact. Elias woke before the bell, breath steady, pulse already alert, mind cataloging fragments he could not yet assemble.By mornin
Under Orders 30
Elias understood, with a clarity that came too late to stop it, that no instruction was coming.The corridor outside Vale’s office was quiet—not empty, not abandoned, but deliberately still, like a held breath. The overhead lights cast a steady glow that erased shadows without offering comfort. Nothing here invited hesitation. Nothing encouraged retreat.Vale had opened the door.He had stepped aside.And Elias had entered.Now the door closed behind him.The sound was precise. Final without being dramatic.Vale did not turn at once. He moved with unhurried intention, setting something down on the desk—papers, a tablet, something Elias did not register because his attention was already tightening inward, coiling low in his chest.“You stayed,” Vale said.It was not a question.“Yes.”Elias’s voice remained steady. His body did not.Vale turned slowly.The look he gave Elias was not sharp. Not interrogative. It carried no surprise.
Under Orders 29
The notice was waiting on his bunk.Not folded. Not sealed. Just placed, square, deliberate, impossible to mistake for accident. Elias stopped beside the frame and read it once without touching it, then again with the same care he applied to everything else now.Administrative review.Attendance mandatory.No delay.Sanction never arrived loudly. It arrived as form.He dressed and left the East Wing without escort. The corridor felt longer than it should have, the lights colder, the floor more exacting. Cadets passed him and looked away. Not out of fear—out of instruction. Distance had become policy.The review chamber was not new to him, but it had been altered. The table had been repositioned, angled toward the light. Chairs were placed asymmetrically, one closer to the door, one nearer the wall. Elias took the standing mark without being told.Vale was already there.He did not look up.Two other officers occupied the far side—faces neutral
Under Orders 28
The East Wing did not sleep.It rested in intervals—short, shallow pauses between function and readiness. Elias learned its rhythm by listening to it breathe: the hum of vents cycling unevenly, the distant thud of doors closing without ceremony, the muted cadence of boots that never lingered. He woke before the bell again, Not alert this time. Balanced.The transfer had done something the system had not anticipated. Removed from familiar variables, Elias felt the pull redistribute cleanly. No expectation clung to him here. No history shaped how others watched. The pressure was simpler.That simplicity revealed something else.During formation, the unit aligned loosely, their movements competent but unsynchronized. Elias took his place without adjustment, letting the rhythm settle around him. He did not absorb. He did not correct.He anchored.The difference was subtle but immediate. Cadets near him adjusted unconsciously—not to him, but around him. The unit’s
Under Orders chapter 27
“Cadet Elias.”The name came from behind him, precise and unhurried.Elias stopped at once. Not because he was startled—he hadn’t been startled in days—but because the voice carried a weight that implied finality. He turned and waited, posture relaxed but exact, hands loose at his sides.The officer stood with a tablet held against his chest, eyes scanning lines that Elias could not see.“You are to report to East Wing, Level Two,” the officer said. “Effective immediately.”Elias absorbed the words without reaction. “For what purpose?”The officer looked up then, gaze neutral. “Temporary transfer.”Temporary meant nothing here.It meant removal without explanation. It meant observation under altered conditions. It meant the system changing variables to see what broke—or adapted.“Yes,” Elias said.He turned without waiting for dismissal and adjusted course.The East Wing felt different the moment he crossed the threshold. The air was cooler, the lighting harsher, the corridors narrowe
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