Trim was left alone in the grand Hall of Announcement because Lyn had been assigned before himself. He gripped both armrests. Hard. The resistance of the hard armrests reassured him that he had both feet firmly planted in reality. He couldn’t stop listening to the principal reading up numbers.

“400-I, 401-A, 402-C…” 407-I, 407-I, 407-I, 407-I. Trim wasn’t even looking at the principal now, only internally chanting his own student number combined with the letter Lyn had been assigned while listening to the number he knew would be spoken in just a couple of seconds.

“405-F, 407-A…” Trim didn’t hear a single thing after ‘407’ and ‘A.’ This was a mistake, right? Principal Rin skipped 406. Maybe 406 was supposed to be assigned to group A. Surely… Despite desperately wanting to retort or simply leave, Trim knew that any deviation from the structure set out by the Education center would not be much better than breaching Mandate #7.

He had to obey first, enter the assigned group A door, and then maybe he could ask the supervisor in that location if he was truly assigned to group A while Lyn… was not.

His steps followed the path Lyn had calmly tread just a minute ago, but he was far more unsteady compared to the practically always-composed Lyn. He knew Lyn was strong. At least, she would be able to handle herself. He was more worried about himself, but he was also anxious for Lyn.

She would be fine no matter what. She would do amazing, in fact. A waft of unease hit him, but he didn’t slow his steps. He would show her that he could handle himself if this truly was reality. His rise would be meteoric, no doubt.

Trim soon entered the same corridor Lyn had previously gone through, but he was too concerned with his own considerations to make any real observations. The only things on his mind were ‘Lyn’ and ‘Door.’ The door marked ‘A’ was the first one on the left.

After brazing himself to whatever reality would meet him on the other side, he pushed down the door handle and entered in one continuous motion. This was it.

What met Trim was simultaneously expected and unexpected at the same time. There was a line of young students and a single instructor overseeing them. The line was rapidly diminishing as they stepped into the waiting rail-shuttle.

The shuttle seemed spacious, but that would soon change when the rest of the students had been assigned. Trim looked to the middle-aged man with a virtual list with all the names and student ID numbers of the arriving students.

When Trim stepped up to the entrance of the shuttle he shot a questioning glance at the instructor and opened his mouth almost imperceptibly to ask the critical question of whether or not he really belonged here. The instructor noticed his glance and the unspoken question, and did the regular two-point-shake all instructors would do to signal that speaking would lead to punishment.

The instructor was really saying ‘If you dare speak up, you will be dragged out and receive the justice of the Eye. Shut your mouth and move along.’ At least this is the implied meaning Trim gathered from the man’s shake and glance.

Trim didn’t dare to even sigh externally. He simply moved his glance to an empty seat in the shuttle and strode in that direction. Taking a seat again after the nerve-wracking walk down here immediately relaxed Trim’s unconsciously tensed muscles.

On the outside, Trim looked to be in a state of perfect calm, but in reality he was absolutely freaking out inside. Firstly, he had no clue whether or not he was going to be permitted to enter ring two. Secondly, he had no clue whether or not the potential field of research he could have been assigned if he was going to enter ring two was even something he was remotely interested in. Thirdly, where was Lyn? Or why is Lyn not here specifically… They had promised to stay together in their research. Did the Eye not care about their promise? Surely the Eye would realize its mistake at any minute and reunite them. Right. That was it.

Trim’s delusions continued growing grander and more intricate the more he desperately needed to deny the reality of being separated from Lyn. Likely for life. The shuttle had begun moving at some point, but Trim was still obsessively thinking about any possibility which would let him be reunited with Lyn.

Could he possibly escape from ring two and find Lyn? The problem with that was not only the inherent difficulty of escaping, but more so the impossibility of actually finding Lyn. Information on the different life-paths assigned to students after ring three was sparse. There were no actual records of anything about it. Not that there were any records about anything available for Sectorians in ring three. Mandate #3 took care of that.

The shuttle’s sudden stop shook the sleep out of Trim. He rubbed his face and gently slapped himself on both cheeks to wake himself up. Because the shuttle had stopped, he knew that he had to follow the flow of people out of the now-opening shuttle doors.

When Trim finally stepped out of the shuttle, he set foot on a raised platform connected to a government building. Well, technically all buildings were owned by the Eye, but only the buildings etched with the Eye were official government buildings. Other buildings might be granted to individuals or used as common buildings, but these also ultimately belonged to the Eye. There wasn’t anything the Eye didn’t own as far as Trim was concerned.

The crowd of young students were herded into four distinct hallways by a couple of instructors present. Trim discovered one particular face which stood out to him among the crowd herded into corridor three along with himself. It was Cole.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Trim hadn’t had a real conversation with Cole for months now. Maybe it had been a year. He couldn’t keep track. The sting of not seeing Lyn’s face didn’t lessen because of seeing a familiar face, but at least he would have someone he knew around.

Cole would forgive him if they spoke, he was sure of it. They could get reassurance from each other’s presence. Trim shot a smile at Cole, but when Cole noticed the friendly gesture he seemed almost frightened and ducked his head down. Then Cole clicked at a girl next to him which Trim recognized as Alice. They seemed to share a brief conversation, but Trim was too far away to catch any details.

Cole and Alice simultaneously looked up and glanced directly at Trim before they once again returned to a close whisper. Maybe he had become a butt of some joke Cole was telling Alice, or maybe Cole was explaining how I had abandoned him and Jones by solely hanging out with Lyn after the disappearance of Danny. It didn’t much matter exactly what they were discussing. What actually mattered was that Cole didn’t seem interested in any kind of connection with him.

If he wanted to make it through his future studies with his sanity intact he would have to have someone to talk to. Cole was the best option, but maybe he would just have to make new friends. Trim combed his fingers through his hair. It had begun getting longer. Too long. He would have to get it cut soon.

The corridor eventually led the group of equally anxious and curious students into a well-lit classroom. The desks were bigger than the desks Trim was used to. All the necessary resources were placed neatly on the desks, and each desk had a specific student ID number plastered on the upper right corner of the desk’s surface.

Seating arrangements were always ordered numerically, with – from the perspective of students facing the large screen behind the instructor’s desk and stand – the lowest number being in the bottom left and the highest number being in the top right. Trim was seated barely to the left of the center of the classroom. He couldn’t see Cole, but Alice was placed a couple of rows in front of him. Cole was probably somewhere behind him. Trim didn’t remember the exact student ID number of Cole.

The rest of the classroom was almost the same as the ones he was used to. However, the resources provided to them were far greater in number compared to the resources they had received in previous years. There was a tablet and a larger computer screen on each table. One was portable for use outside of the classroom, while the other was for classroom-usage only. The computer screen seemed to seamlessly extend from the desk itself.

It seemed like each desk had the multi-purpose of being both a desk and a computer. A feeling of excitement arose in Trim’s mind for the first time since hearing that his own letter differed from Lyn’s. The design was so smooth and intricate. The desk simply looked like any other desk, but was actually a hidden computer. Or was the computer densely enough packed to only consist of the screen itself. That wouldn’t make much sense because of its connection to the desk itself. Each individual desk-screen was slightly curved to allow for a larger display on each screen.

Other than the two computer devices, there was a sealed oval container on the left side of the desk. Trim wondered what was inside the container, but he didn’t dare to open it without prior instructions to do so. The last object on the desk looked like a plate with its edges raised a bit too much. There were also an interface displayed on its edge which currently was blank and he could see a port one could connect a computer to next to this interface.

Trim stared intently at the device, attempting to will into existence an understanding of what the device did and why he was given this device at all. These must all be of vital importance for something, but what that something was he couldn’t answer. Luckily for him, however, the answers would come soon enough.

A firm woman’s voice leapt out of the speakers concealed in the roof, walls, and floor. “Greetings, students.” Following the powerful but flat voice, a figure arose from the floor behind the teacher’s desk. The figure turned out to be a young woman with ear-length tar hair, wearing a white coat with an eye displayed clearly on her chest. Trim thought she might be ten years older than himself, or maybe a bit older than that, but nonetheless her soft features were contrasted with a completely neutral facial expression.

Her slightly chubby chin offset the seriousness of her expression slightly in Trim’s mind. Her frame was still not very large, however, and the steps she took to arrive behind the desk were swift and decisive. An echo of her raised shoes rung out in the otherwise dead-silent classroom. No one had the audacity to interrupt an instructor, much less someone capable of becoming an instructor at such a young age. Most of the instructors Trim was familiar with were at least in their fifties, but this woman didn’t look like she had even turned thirty. She might even be a Significant who were only going to teach for a couple of years before turning her head to research and development.

The only confirmed Significant Trim had ever seen was principal Rin, the one who delivered the fate separating himself and Lyn. He wondered what Lyn’s experience was. Hopefully she had also advanced to ring two. Trim had no clue whether or not multiple of the groups selected advanced to ring two, but he knew that he had to currently be in ring two.

If he was going to be transported to anywhere in ring three, the shuttle-ride would be far shorter. The technology present here also seemed to match the higher level of education Trim expected he would get in ring two.

His shuttle of thought was broken by the instructor continuing her introduction. “My name is Dalia Stoneward. You are to refer to me as instructor Stoneward henceforth. You have all been assigned to the life-path of becoming energy researchers and technicians. The classes I will be teaching are the basics of energy systems, and the foundation of energy research.”

Instructor Stoneward touched a spot on her own display and an image appeared on the larger screen behind her. “This,” she pointed up, “is the basis of all of the Eye and the surrounding sectors’ energy. It goes by many names, some of which include the pearl of the Eye, the Great Foundation, the Preston crystal and many more. We will use the scientific word for it. Energia lithum. It is a self-contained energy-circuit with an immense amount of energy compressed into the physical form you can see displayed.”

She let her arm fall before considering the reactions her initial statements had garnered from the crowd of young faces. Hopefully she would be able to help improve the next generation of energy research by putting her all into teaching these young talents.

“Now,” for the first time she actually smiled, “who can tell me about the core reason knowledge about Energia lithum is so critical?”

A number of arms shot up, including Trim’s. “492.” 492 spoke up, and Trim could hear Cole’s shaky voice ring out from somewhere behind him. His voice was amplified by the room’s acoustics as well as the microphones which were naturally implemented into each desk. Trim put his arm back down and listened.