The first thing Cade noticed when he stepped into the trial zone was how quiet it was. Not calm. Not peaceful. Just quiet. That kind of silence that presses into your ears and gives your thoughts too much room to echo.
And Cade's thoughts were screaming.
He adjusted his gloves one finger at a time, jaw tight, eyes flicking over the simulation field. He was barely listening to the trial instructions over the speakers. He already knew the objective—defend the point, work as a team, yada yada. But all he could focus on was her.
Olivia Compostal.
The name alone made his jaw ache from clenching.
He could still feel the white-hot pain blooming through his gut when she'd kneed him square in the groin. Right there. In front of everyone. Cadets, instructors, security staff. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if the damn cafeteria droids had been watching.
She didn't just embarrass him—she emasculated him.
And worst of all, no one came to his defense. No one cared that she'd assaulted him. She spun some line about "boundaries" and "unwanted advances," and the officers bought it without blinking.
Flashback: Hours Earlier – The Interrogation Room
"Sit," barked Commander Jeros, not even looking at him as Cade entered the debriefing room.
He sat, stiff and silent.
Across the desk sat two officers: Jeros, and Lieutenant Davi—the woman who'd spoken to Olivia after the incident. Her arms were folded. Her stare was cool.
"Do you understand why you're here, Cadet Vexlan?" she asked.
Cade kept his face blank, even as his fists clenched under the table. "Because Compostal assaulted me in front of half the recruits."
Davi's brows lifted slightly. "Assaulted?" Her voice had a sharp edge. "We've reviewed the footage. You approached her. Invaded her space. Ignored multiple verbal warnings. What happened after that wasn't assault, Cadet. It was self-defense."
His jaw twitched.
Jeros leaned forward then, voice low but dangerous. "Let me make one thing very clear. Your family's wealth and influence mean nothing here. If you keep acting like this Academy is a personal playground, you'll find yourself expelled faster than you can say 'legacy.'"
They didn't want to hear his side. They didn't care about the pressure, the expectations, or the name "Vexlan." All they saw was a smug kid who got dropped by a girl and couldn't handle it.
When the door slid shut behind him, the humiliation hit harder than the pain ever had.
Now
The simulation began with a shrill tone. Cade's HUD lit up:
Trial 1: Defend the Capture Point. 20 Minutes. Multiple Hostile Waves.
His team moved to their positions—Tara Zorii, fast and competent; Julian Frey, cocky but useful; and Korrin Valen, a scared little twitch of a cadet who looked like he'd get flattened by a stiff breeze.
Cade barely spoke to them. "You hold your lanes. You don't screw this up."
His voice was sharper than it needed to be. Tara gave him a look, but said nothing. They were all on edge. But for Cade, it wasn't the simulation that was making his skin crawl.
It was the knowledge that somewhere—somewhere nearby—Olivia was running her own trial. Maybe watching his. Maybe laughing again, just like she had when he crumpled in front of her. The sound of cadets chuckling still rang in his ears, even if no one had dared say anything aloud.
He gritted his teeth and raised his rifle. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's get this over with."
The drones came fast—sleek, armored, with unpredictable patterns—but Cade welcomed it. Every shot he took felt like striking something that couldn't laugh at him. Couldn't look down on him. Couldn't talk back.
"Four incoming right flank!" Korrin yelled.
"I see them," Cade snapped, pivoting and lighting up the lead drone with a burst of fire. It exploded mid-air, showering the field in simulated debris.
They were holding, for now.
Flashback: One Week Ago – Vexlan Estate, Corven
"Humiliated. In front of officers. In front of other cadets."
Vice Admiral Ret. Magnus Vexlan stood at the bay window, arms clasped behind his back, staring out at his estate like it was a war map.
Cade stood a few feet behind him, still sore, still angry, still humiliated.
"You understand what they're saying about you, don't you?" his father continued. "Not about her. About you."
Cade opened his mouth to speak but got only half a syllable out.
"—Spare me," Magnus growled. "This is the CMSC, not some university politics game. You're a Vexlan. That name should mean something. But you're running around like a spoiled socialite looking for attention. And you got it. From the wrong girl."
"She overreacted," Cade muttered.
"She corrected you," Magnus said coldly, finally turning around. "And if you can't see that, you're not ready for this life. I pulled every string to get you placed early. You don't deserve to be there. You were handed your chance."
The silence that followed was far worse than the shouting Cade had expected. His father's disappointment wasn't loud. It was heavy. Sharp. Surgical.
"You want to earn respect? Then shut up. Train harder. Get stronger. And stop letting some no-name girl dance circles around you."
He hadn't said "Olivia." He hadn't needed to.
Cade left that room more ashamed than he'd ever felt in his life.
Not because of what happened.
But because—for once—he wasn't in control.