A saying in the Republic of Valeria went: One had not witnessed true poverty unless they had stepped foot into the Mill Row.

Shon had never liked that saying much. His life in the capital was far from comfortable, and his earlier life hopping between the frontier provinces — with his mother and sister — had been even worse. To claim that this life was not true poverty was mildly infuriating.

However, standing at the end of Mill Street, Shon felt a sudden curiosity creep up. Without realizing it, he drifted toward the matrix of patched tents, mapping out the terrain of this strange land.

The mystique of this forsaken territory was soon dispelled. The moment Shon stepped in, all abstract concepts of poverty and economy and gentrification crumbled away, leaving only the raw human condition to batter his senses.

Figures writhed in their tents, in angles bizarre to the human eye. At a closer look, some shapes were merely the size of toddlers. Painful wails and delirious speech mixed into a dissonant noise, the voices never close enough to be deciphered, but always half an earshot away. The worst was the stench — the mix of urine, defecation, vomit, and other unknown bodily fluids.

Shon was wrong. This was worse than anything he had been through.

Despite everything, Shon let his footsteps carry him deeper into the encampments. He kept his gaze straight and uncovered his nose.

This was the life that his fellow Fraxians had to live through. He embraced the brutality of it all.

But wait, it wasn’t just Fraxians. At a closer look, there were tints of blue in some eyes. The Valerians were much smaller in proportion, but by no means small in count.

Shon sighed. The blade of society struck unequally, but nobody was truly immune.

In the distance, Shon could make out the silhouette of a woman. She seemed to be different. While the figures surrounding her twisted and staggered, she moved with a smooth, composed elegance.

In fact, she moved differently from all the inhabitants of Mill Row.

Shon walked faster toward the woman, curiosity getting the better of him.

Suddenly, a cold, clammy hand gripping onto his ankle. He jumped, instinctively flinching away. He tried to kick the hand away but braced himself at the last second. Instead, he gently pulled away his leg.

“Ethermine. Spare some ethermine, please.”

Shon glanced down. A Fraxian, or what remained of one, was lying on the floor. The arm that grabbed him was bony, and so was the rest of his body. He seemed so fragile that a gust of wind could snap him in half. But the worst part was the pus — putrid, discolored pus seeping out of rotten needle holes on his arm.

“Ethermine, please, Stormrunner, or ethermax, or whatever you’ve got.”

Shon understood. He was mistaken for a Stormrunner, who could legally carry sedatives like ethermine. This pure fellow somehow shot up tons of this substance into his veins.

“I’m not a Stormrunner, sorry,” Shon tried to leave. He needed to follow that mysterious silhouette. There was no time to waste.

At Shon’s words, a sudden gist of sobriety hit the Fraxian man.

“You know, I used to be a Stormrunner.”

Shon glanced back. That man was a Stormrunner? Impossible. No retired Stormrunner would end up as pathetic as he was. Even those who lost eyes and limbs were compensated handsomely by the state, enjoying privileges that surpass those of Valerians.

“Sir, you need some rest.” Shon tried to speak as gently as he could, trying not to shatter this man’s delirious fantasy. He glanced forward. The mysterious woman was still in the distance, though drifting further. Shon did not want to lose her.

But the man had no intent to finish the conversation. Although lying on the pavement, the man managed to raise his hand into a fist and struck against his chest.

“Squad Ventura, rear striker Clay reporting for duty! The perimeter of Orion Marketplace is secure! Sir, yes sir!”

Shon froze. He could not be making all this up. Squad Ventura, the rear striker position, and the Stormrunner salute? These were all real and accurate. And the Orion marketplace… No way that he served there.

Shon turned back to him with a barrage of questions in his head. “Tell me more. Where did you serve? What happened to you? How did you end up like this?”

However, the few seconds of clarity were gone. Once again, the man’s eyes became clouded, and he began twitching in withdrawal.

“Ethermine, please. Any ethermine to spare?”

Shon glared down, trying to fish out a few more answers with his stare. However, it was of no use. The man’s mind was gone.

Shon sighed. He glanced up. The silhouette of the woman was drifting further away, so he picked up his pace.

The woman moved on to the next group. To be more precise, the next group gathered around her. Wherever she went, people followed. More shocking was the fact that all interactions had been peaceful so far. The crimes in Mill Row were notoriously brutal, and the police would not bat an eye unless an upstanding Valerian citizen got attacked by some Fraxian vagabonds. Even as a trained Stormrunner candidate, Shon was still afraid, taking each step with extreme caution and never walking too close to any dark alleyway. However, that woman displayed no fear.

At that thought, Shon strode with bigger gestures and more noise, trying not to catch the woman by surprise. After all, he did not want to give off the wrong impression.

The woman turned a corner, and Shon followed. Soon, the woman stopped in front of another batch of tents, once again surrounded by people.

Shon closed in, and he finally got a closer look. He was shocked.

“Professor Lilah?” he blurted out.

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Professor Lilah turned her head. Her gentle blue eyes blinked a few times, and she pulled a pair of glasses out of her pocket. “Shon, what are you doing here?”

“I was gonna ask the same about you?”

Shon looked around, and he found his answer. Professor Lilah carried a large tray of food. Around her sat a dozen Fraxians. Although the professor made no effort to conceal her Valerian features, none of the Fraxians displayed any antagonism. In fact, they glanced up with reverence in their eyes, just like the Academy students.

Professor Lilah turned back and waved them forward. One by one, they lined up and took a sandwich each out of the tray. Nobody fought for the food, and nobody caused any commotion, not even those wheezing with the aftereffects of narcotics.

By the time they were done, the tray was still half-filled. The leftover was probably saved for the next batch of tents. Although some Fraxians looked like they had been starving for days, nobody took more from the tray.

Shon’s mouth hung open. No words came out.

“You must be wondering why I’m doing this,” chuckled Professor Lilah.

Shon looked away, blinking away what he soon realized were tears. “No, I get it. I get it more than you think I do.”

“What happened, Shon? This is the first time I see you here.”

“I… I don’t know,” Shon stammered.

“I heard about what happened during the Exam. I filed an appeal on behalf of the Academy. Regardless, that is a terrible injustice. I’m so sorry.”

Professor Lilah probably heard about how he got disqualified after saving his Valerian teammate’s life. However, she did not know about Theo Xeta’s letter. Shon debated whether he should tell her.

At this instant, Shon realized how lost he felt. After all the years of struggling alone in the capital, he felt tired.

He envied Zora, who could always go to her parents to figure things out together. But for Shon, his mother and sister were not only far away, but they could offer no valuable insights. He could not blame them. They were already trying their hardest to give him a chance at a good life. However, did they understand his solitude? Did they understand the apprehension of staring at a fork in the road, not knowing which path to take?

Perhaps this was his only chance at some solid advice, so he prodded carefully. “Can I ask you something, Professor?”

“Fire away.” Professor Lilah continued to stack the trays of food.

“Would you prefer a safe, mundane, and perhaps even meaningless life? Or a life filled with thrill and danger, along with the possibility to reach places higher than you’d ever imagine?”

Professor Lilah turned around in contemplation.

“I would not call any life meaningless,” she said. “Not even the most mundane ones. No matter how some try to shame others, or how some doubt themselves, everyone plays an important role in serving our republic.”

Shon opened his mouth to protest, but Professor Lilah continued.

“But I’m sure you meant something else. After all, you are in an academy of Stormrunner candidates.”

Shon nodded his head, silent.

“I read about the storms in Thiab, and I know your family only narrowly escaped while thousands couldn’t. It is not your fault, Shon, if these tragedies deter you from your original dreams.”

“Not just me, but also… Also my family. After all their sacrifices, they are changing their minds.”

“For a young man like you, doubt can be a blessing.”

“How so?”

“I’ve taught many generations of Stormrunners,” Professor Lilah sighed. “Some of them fancied the idea of being a Stormrunner, obsessed even. Others, they seemed much more hesitant. Wanna guess which type survives longer on the field?”

“Sounds like the latter. But why?”

“Those who jumped in blindly to be a Stormrunner, they never gave it much thought. They were powered by an ideal, a blind optimism. Perhaps they believed they could save everyone from the Storms, or perhaps they pursued honor and a good life. They idealized Stormrunning as a concept without even understanding the truth. They tried to build their life’s meaning upon the foundations of a daydream, erecting a tower carrying all their hope and faith.

“However, when the reality struck, when their first friend died on the field, or the town they were protecting got destroyed, they would lose it. Only when the tower collapsed did they understand that the foundation was simply a mirage. But that was too late.”

Shon interjected. “But what about the other kind? Are they not also motivated by dreams?”

“That’s the tricky part. On paper, their motivation was exactly the same. The only difference is, perhaps, they interrogated what it meant to be a Stormrunner. They had fears and doubts, but eventually, they still chose this path, regardless. They had found a bigger meaning.”

“And what is the meaning that they had found?”

“That’s a question for you to think about for the rest of your life.”

Shon was a little frustrated that there were questions even Professor Lilah could not answer. He thought about it. He had always wanted to be a Stormrunner. But why?Certainly,y lifting his family out of poverty was a big thing. But there was definitely more. Perhaps it was his dead father? Perhaps he was tired of feeling powerless in this society?

Shon shook his head. The professor was right. That was a question for the rest of his life, not for ten minutes in the Mill Row.

However, he still had something on his mind. He carefully put together the right words.

“Professor, if I got the chance to do something great, but it deprives the same opportunity of a fellow Fraxian, is it still the right thing to do?”

Professor Lilah looked up, expecting some elaboration. However, Shon looked away.

The Stormrunning Examination was sacred. Every person, whether Valerian or Fraxian, only got one shot. Three hundred candidates, half Fraxian and half Valerian, would get selected each year — no more and no less. In the past, the only way for a candidate beneath the cutoff score to be recruited was for another to forfeit their opportunity. However, Shon was not just beneath the cutoff. He was completely disqualified. Never had a disqualified candidate been given a second chance.

Come to the ceremony three days later, and you can get a second chance.

A second chance. Whatever Theo Xeta proposed was a breach of multiple Valerian laws. Worst of all, this meant denying the opportunity from another Fraxian. Shon pictured what they would look like and how they had lived. Did they already walk into the inauguration ceremony with the hopes of their family on their backs? Had they also fought and dreamed their whole life for a Stormrunner position? Were they on the verge of winning their family Valerian citizenships and the promise of a better life, only to have it all stolen away by Shon’s selfish decision?

The immense guilt washed over him again. He looked back at Professor Lilah, who was still patiently waiting for an elaboration.

Shon bit his lips and shook his head. There was no way he could explain this. He would not only displease Theo Xeta, but he would also put himself in enormous danger.

Professor Lilah saw the look in Shon’s eyes and understood. It was a look that she had probably witnessed often. She did not press further.

“Shon,” she began speaking, then paused, as if searching for the right words. After a long while, she continued. “There is something I should have taught you guys in my lessons, but for a multitude of reasons, I have kept it to myself.”

Shon looked up. “I would never blame you, professor. You have taught us more than we could ever ask for.”

Professor Lilah’s expression lightened, a brief look of relief in her eyes. “Always remember this. In the days to come, sometimes you will take from others, and sometimes others take from you. And worst of all, sometimes it feels like both sides are suffering, and nobody is winning.”

Shon remembered his encounter on the train right before the Exam. He remembered the poor Fraxian girl who had to make a living off pickpocketing, who had the unfortunate luck to pickpocket a group of manual laborers. Was it her fault for wanting to survive? Was it their fault to hate a thief? Was it Shon’s fault for stepping in? Was it Zora’s fault for protecting Shon?

It was a cruel world. Nobody could win.

“It feels heartless to take from someone else.” Professor Lilah continued. “And it feels worse if that stems from a conscious decision.

“But remember. Always remember. It is not your fault. When you are forced to choose between two evils, it is never your fault for picking the lesser one.”

Shon let these words permeate his mind slowly. He tried to put together a response, but as understanding began kicking in, he lost his grasp. He swallowed, then blinked a few times, but he could not hide the moonlight glistening in the corner of his eyes. Only at this moment did he realize that he had been waiting his whole life to hear these words from someone.

Finally, he let out a long breath. Only three words escaped his mouth. “Thank you, professor.”

A sudden movement got Shon’s attention. Behind the professor, two menacing Valerian men closed in. Unlike the zombies of Mill Row, these men were bulky, angry, and evidently looking for trouble.

And they were heading right towards Shon.