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To fail within the academy amounted to certain death.
To shine, to draw our illustrious general’s attention, would result in ruin.
Every last recruit contained within the academy’s walls had been created by the human government of Risa Colony. We were owned by their military, our genetics mixed with the hostile planet's apex predator, the vorec. Given life for a single purpose—to protect humans.
Fail to perform in that purpose, demonstrate that you were unworthy of the vast expense and time spent in one’s creation and training, and your life was forfeit.
Once per annum, a compulsory evaluation was required for every hybrid recruit. A student would enter the cold-blooded General Cyderial’s office. My colleagues, friends who had grown up beside me—some would enter those doors and… never come out again.
I had learned from the age of five that if I portrayed a front of absolute mediocrity, I would mostly be ignored by those in power.
Never test too high, regardless of how well one comprehended the materials.
Do not build strong relationships with professors or staff.
Be immemorable.
Stay respectful but distant.
Friendships were for later in the day, in the privacy of dorms, when the vault separating the female students from the academy proper was sealed. Armed watchers—elite male guards—were forbidden from female spaces. With no one cataloging our every move, there was a semblance of freedom. Our own secret after-hours culture.
But where the watchers lingered, conversations were to be kept to an absolute minimum.
Making eye contact with an authority figure was tantamount to instant punishment.
Minor infractions could result in death.
Never get caught breaking the rules, break them in such a way that culpability was questionable. If you were apprehended, it was smarter to say nothing, accept the punishment, and leave without complaint.
With only six weeks until graduation, it was required that I endure only one final meeting with General Cyderial until my future placement would be decided. I had calculated the exact scores I would need to squeak by and maintain my façade of middling intelligence. With a ranking so unimpressive, I would be given the position of surveyor—a dangerous job for the more expendable hybrids.
A post the majority of my colleagues would cringe to be associated with.
One I greatly coveted. One where I could explore this fog-covered hostile planet with a small team of genetically modified hybrid humans like myself.
Leave the academy behind, forever.
I had no fear of the wilderness that surrounded our burgeoning city. I was mesmerized by what I might find within its dense mists. Heard the call of the beasts who lived there, and knew the fog was where I belonged.
One final meeting with a terror and I would be free.
I was so close to my ultimate goal.
And damned proud of myself for making it so far.
Formal uniform impeccable, brown hair pulled away from my face and tightly knotted at my nape, I walked through the general’s office door stiff with decorum—in exactly the way expected of me. The nature of the chamber was unusual for a workspace, the main area housing his desk past an extended museum-like vestibule.
But it was beautiful… so many pretty things on so many delicate shelves.
Once, when I was very young, in a fit of temper, I'd swiped a little geode off the fancy display near the door. I still had it tucked away where no soul would ever find it. It was pink, glittery, and still one of the prettiest things I had ever seen.
Even though I had been only twelve when I had taken it, I’m pretty sure that if he had ever noticed it was missing or had the general suspected it was me, I would have received far more than a beating.
Hybrids regenerated at an extreme pace, making torture survivable and a real threat to consider. Every student had seen the consequences of his wrath in those who failed to live up to the academy’s high standards.
Death.
