Oliver's eyes were struggling against the impending exhaustion that had accumulated in his body. Although there was a Major making announcements and offering congratulations, his brain could only pick up on a few scattered words.

"Each of you has been evaluated in four aspects, which are considered the foundation of NEA's assessment. Less than 20% of those who arrived on this island will remain. However, understand that this is only the first step of a long journey," the Major began to explain. "Each of you will be called and assigned to your battalion based on your performance."

The cadets were called up to the stage one by one, where their battalion was announced. The other officers then pointed out where the newly assigned cadet should go for the next stage.

“Alan Aquila!”

The boy next to Oliver quickly stood up, startled to be called so early. He gave a quick glance at Isabela and Oliver before continuing down the aisle. As he approached the stage, he waited for the officer to read his battalion assignment.

"You will be assigned to the second battalion," the first officer informed.

When his battalion was announced, whispers started spreading among the cadets. Even Oliver noticed that they were talking about Alan's result.

Until that moment, Oliver had no way of judging whether Alan deserved to be in the second battalion or not. However, he recalled that Alan had a Bishop-level performance in Energy, even earning the attention of their evaluating officer.

Oliver scratched his head, unable to understand how Alan ended up in the second battalion, which was supposed to shelter the "weaker" talents. Oliver cursed under his breath; if only he had paid more attention to the conversations around him, maybe he would have had a better grasp of what was happening. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to shake off the drowsiness.

After listening to a few more announcements, Oliver noticed a particular pattern. It was much more common for Nameless recruits to be assigned to the second battalion rather than the first.

"Could the difference in training create such a large gap between Nameless and non-Nameless?" Oliver wondered to himself.

But with a ratio of 20 to 1, he couldn't imagine what kind of training would make the non-Nameless so much better in comparison. The disparity seemed too significant to be explained by that alone.

“Isabela de Luca”

Isabela was sitting in the row in front of Oliver. She stood up with all her energy, ready to receive her result. She glanced back at Oliver and gave him a thumbs up.

"Good luck!" she mouthed to him before walking.

She joined the line when she reached the platform, slowly approaching the officer.

"You will be assigned to the first battalion," the officer informed.

The girl with brown hair was hopping with joy until she disappeared on the left side of the hall. Although Oliver was rooting for her and Alan, his gaze was now scanning the room, searching for the golden-haired girl. She had entered the hall with the same group, but he couldn't find her among the nearby seats.

“Katherine of York.”

"There she is!" the boy thought. When her name was announced, Katherine stood amidst the group and slowly walked towards the stage.

"You will be assigned to the first battalion," the officer informed.

“It suits her.” Oliver thought after finally learning the girl’s name.

“Oliver Nameless”.

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Finally, Oliver was called. Although tired from waiting so long, he was happy to see where his colleagues would be placed. Additionally, he got a bonus: he learned Katherine’s name.

As he approached the front of the official, he received his result: "You will be assigned to the second battalion." The result was not surprising; except for a few rare exceptions, the vast majority of Nameless were being sent to the second battalion.

One of the officials near the stage pointed out where Oliver should go. Exiting through the right side of the hall, Oliver followed one of the paths along with several other boys and girls.

The path led out of the hall and into a large warehouse. At the entrance, a sign read "Cadet Processing." This was one of the smaller and seemingly older buildings in the island's central area, yet it was packed with new cadets and a line wound around the building.

“Enter and wait your turn!” an older officer shouted at the newer cadets at the building's entrance.

“Pay attention! You are here to receive processing. You will be analyzed, cleansed, and receive basic equipment. After that, you will be taken to your barracks, where you will join your platoon.” The officer continued shouting at the new cadets. His voice was so loud that Oliver could feel a buzzing in his ear.

They moved through the line one by one until the cadets reached smaller rooms. Finally, it was Oliver's turn.

He found himself in a small, utterly white room with only a seat and a display that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. Soon after entering, another officer in a white uniform entered the room and quickly sat down. On the front of the officer's uniform was an identification card that read: "Medical Officer - Processing."

“I'll start with a health check. Stand before the display while I conduct the analysis.” the medical officer informed.

Before Oliver could confirm, the medical officer pulled out a tablet. Lasers and scanners emitted from it, sweeping over every part of the boy’s body. The officer made small hums and ahs with each new information that appeared on the tablet’s screen.

“Okay, no major issues. Your energy levels are quite high for someone who hasn't used Z Crystals regularly, but nothing out of the ordinary.” The medic explained.

Oliver tried to glance at the exams on the doctor's tablet, but before he could read anything, a noise of gears and metal began to echo from above. Where there had once been a ceiling, now there was a small opening, from which a metal arm extended, with a mask attached to its end.

The medic quickly instructed, “Put it on your face and wait three seconds with your eyes closed."

Oliver used both hands to pull the mask onto his face. “What is this mask for?” the boy asked.

“You'll find out soon enough. Wait for the flash.” The doctor responded impatiently to the cadet.

‘3… 2… 1…’

"Flash!"

The room briefly went completely white, and when it returned to normal, the boy felt a slight headache.

The doctor spoke softly after the boy recovered from the flash, "It's the most efficient way to ensure no infections or biological weapons are brought into the battalion. You don't want to deal with one; they almost wiped out our forces during the third wave."

As he removed the mask, Oliver felt his face lighten. With his head lowered, he saw strands of hair falling to the floor.

"Ah! This is one of the side effects. All new cadets are required to trim their hair after processing. It's standard procedure," the doctor explained quickly.

Oliver ran his hand over his head, and the rest of his hair fell to the ground. He turned to the display on the wall. He was completely bald, with some tufts still falling over his shoulders.

“We're done. Proceed to the next room.” the doctor pointed to the exit.

Before he could protest or fully process what had happened, Oliver found himself ushered out of the room. Moving down the corridor, two officers handed him a duffle bag.

“Here, you'll find your equipment and clothing. Head to your platoon.” The new officer explained quickly, giving Oliver no chance to ask anything.

After being shuffled from room to room, the “process” finally concluded. He was supposed to head to his quarters, but the biggest surprise was yet to come. His room was perhaps worse than when he lived in New San Francisco.

The building resembled a green cylinder lying on the ground. The metal walls were worn, and the green paint was peeling off in several spots. At the entrance, there was a clear sign that read "Second Battalion - 3rd Quarter."

Oliver re-read his instructions, confirming that he was in the right place. The boy scratched his head, but there was no doubt. He had been assigned a room in the 3rd Quarter. His only "comfort" was that the other Quarters were just as bad as this one.

Upon entering, Oliver spotted over fifty bunk beds. Each one had the name of its occupant. Some were already occupied, with others sound asleep.

Oliver continued walking down each aisle until he finally saw his name on one of the beds. Approaching it, he saw a boy lying on the lower bunk.

“Alan?!” Oliver asked.

Oliver's surprise was only outmatched by the comical sight of Alan's now bald head. His white scalp gleamed under the dormitory light.

“Finally, you made it! Welcome to our five-star hotel. What do you think of our accommodations?” Alan replied with his characteristic sarcasm.

“…surprising. I'm glad your sense of humor didn't fall out with your hair.” Oliver teased his suddenly bald friend.

“No, no, my friend. It's still standing strong. But if this shocked you, brace yourself. It's only just beginning…”