Jackie Stewart entered the simulation pod, the familiar hum of the machines greeting her as she settled into the cockpit. The monitors flickered to life, displaying the usual setup screens, but today something felt different. She tapped a few buttons, her fingers moving with the practiced ease of a seasoned gamer, but before she could launch her usual session, the screen suddenly went black.

A moment later, a message appeared:

"Stand by. You are being redirected."

Jackie’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen this message before. Her mind raced, wondering if something had gone wrong or if this was some error. But a deep, authoritative voice echoed through the speakers before she could react.

“Ms. Stewart, this is Stryker.” She heard a voice she remembered.

Her breath caught in her throat. She remembered Stryker, her trainer from the basic training scenario in the game. She did not know he was one of the most renowned instructors in the planetary Mecha Academy, a man whose reputation was as formidable as the mechas he trained pilots for. But why was he speaking to her, she thought?

“You are to be granted an emergency acceptance into the planetary Mecha Academy,” Stryker continued, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Your skills have not gone unnoticed, and it has been decided that you will join the next class, which starts in two months.”

Jackie’s mind reeled. “Emergency acceptance? The academy?” She remembered what her father had said just the day before. It was the kind of opportunity people only dreamed about, but to have it thrust upon her so suddenly was overwhelming. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

“Prepare yourself,” Stryker went on, his voice steady and calm. “I will forward you a series of books and classes you must study in the coming weeks. Your knowledge base must be solid if you are to survive the rigors of the academy. Additionally, I will outline a physical regimen that you are to follow. Physical fitness is crucial, and you will be expected to meet the academy’s standards before your arrival.”

Jackie could hardly believe what she was hearing. This wasn’t just an offer—a command, an expectation that she would rise to the occasion. There was no room for hesitation, no space for doubt. Her path was clear, and it led straight to the academy.

“You have two months, Stewart,” Stryker concluded, his voice carrying a weight of finality. “Use your time wisely. I will be watching your progress.”

The screen flickered again, and the message disappeared, replaced by a download bar indicating the incoming materials. Jackie sat frozen. She felt both excitement and fear. She was being drafted.

The academy was calling, and she had to be ready. “What's my father going to say?” She asked the silence.

***

Kovacs walked down the corridor of the engineering building, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. The request to see Professor Angstrom had come unexpectedly, and now, as he approached the office, a sense of unease began to creep in. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the sudden summons didn’t sit right with him.

The door to Angstrom’s office was slightly ajar, and Kovacs could hear the faint hum of a holoprojector inside. He hesitated momentarily, then knocked softly before pushing the door open.

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs, come in,” Professor Angstrom’s voice called out warmly from behind his cluttered desk. The professor, a tall man with thinning gray hair and sharp, curious eyes, looked up from a stack of papers with a welcoming smile. “Please, have a seat.”

Kovacs nodded, taking the chair opposite the professor. His eyes briefly scanned the room—blueprints pinned to the walls, models of various mecha designs scattered across shelves, and a large screen displaying schematics of an unknown project. The atmosphere was almost too inviting and congenial, and only heightened Kovacs’ sense of unease.

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“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Professor,” Kovacs said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Not at all, not at all,” Angstrom replied, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you. I’ve been following your progress, and I must say, you’re showing quite a lot of promise. Especially with that new system, you’ve been working with—quite the breakthrough, isn’t it?”

Kovacs nodded but said nothing. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he had a feeling it wasn’t just a casual conversation.

“I imagine the acclimatization process has been...challenging,” Angstrom continued, leaning back in his chair. “But from what I can see, you’ve handled it exceptionally well. After all, the system is quite complex and requires a certain level of...adaptability to harness its potential fully. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Kovacs felt a prickle of caution. The professor’s tone was friendly enough, but something was probing in his questions, something that made Kovacs wary. He chose his words carefully.

“It’s could a powerful tool,” He replied, keeping his expression neutral. “There’s a lot it can do, but learning all the ins and outs takes time. And then I have to earn advancement points.”

Angstrom nodded thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving Kovacs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure it does. But you seem to have picked it up rather quickly. Tell me, what have you found most useful about the system? What aspects have you been focusing on?”

Kovacs hesitated. It was an innocent enough question, but it felt like a test. “I’ve been working on learning the basics, shoring up my understating of physics and metallurgy,” he said slowly. “I think it will improve my efficiency... things like that.”

“Ah, what about optimization,” Angstrom said with a nod as if that was the answer he had expected. “And what about the more advanced features? Have you delved into predictive algorithms? The material simulations?”

Kovacs felt his suspicion grow. Why was Angstrom so interested in the specifics of his work? And why now? He forced himself to remain calm, to keep his voice steady. “No, I explored a bit, but I’m still getting the hang of it. There’s a lot to learn. So far, that hasn’t come up.”

“Of course, of course,” Angstrom agreed, though there was a glint in his eyes that Kovacs didn’t like. “But you’ve made remarkable progress, Kovacs. Remarkable indeed. I’ve seen the projections you’ve run, and they are imposing. I’m particularly interested in that new armor formulation you’ve been working on. A significant improvement over current models, wouldn’t you say?”

There it was. The mention of the armor formula made Kovacs’ stomach tighten. He had been careful with that project, knowing it was something special that could set him apart—but now, hearing Angstrom bring it up so casually as if it was just another topic of discussion set off alarm bells in his head.

“It’s still in the early stages,” Kovacs said cautiously. “A lot of testing needs to be done before we can say for sure.”

“True, true,” Angstrom said, nodding again, but his eyes were still fixed on Kovacs, sharp and assessing. “But the potential is there. With the right guidance and the right resources...a project like that could go far. I’m sure you’ve considered the possibilities.”

Kovacs shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like a mouse being sized up by a cat. “I’m just focused on my studies right now,” he replied, his voice carefully measured. “There’s still a lot I need to learn.”

Angstrom leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming more earnest. “That’s precisely why I wanted to speak with you, Kovacs. You have talent, undeniable talent. But talent needs direction and mentorship. This kind of mentorship could take your work to the next level. I could help you with that. We could work together and develop your projects further. You’d have access to resources you can’t even imagine.”

Kovacs forced himself to stay calm and keep his expression neutral. This was it—the pitch. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it, something beneath the surface that Angstrom wasn’t saying. “I appreciate the offer, Professor,” he said slowly, “but I’m not sure I’m ready yet. There’s still so much I need to figure out on my own. So many of the basics I’ve yet to get nailed down.”

“Of course, of course,” Angstrom said, his voice smooth and understanding. But there was a hint of impatience in his eyes, a flicker of frustration. “But don’t let yourself be held back by caution, Kovacs. Opportunities like this don’t come around often. You have the chance to make a real impact and contribute something truly significant. Don’t underestimate what you’re capable of.”

Kovacs nodded, but inside, his suspicions were only growing. Something about this didn’t feel right. The sudden interest and the push for collaboration all felt too convenient and coincidental. He needed time to think, to figure out what was going on.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Professor,” Kovacs said, standing up. “But I think I need some time to consider everything. It’s a lot to take in.”

Angstrom’s smile was tight, and Kovacs could see the disappointment in his eyes. “Of course, take your time. But don’t take too long, Kovacs. The world moves fast, and you don’t want to miss your chance.”

Kovacs nodded again, making his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, he felt a cold knot of unease in his stomach. Something was off. He didn’t know what Angstrom was up to, but he was sure of one thing: he needed to be careful. Very careful.