— When college admission algorithms overwrite human destinies
Morning.
Shawn woke with his eyes open—not from a nightmare, but from a restless tremor deep within him, as though high-frequency waves of data were coursing through every cell.
The images of Kyng's code from last night replayed in his mind, frame by frame: vivid yet distant.
The imprint that lingered—the mark labeled D‑Matrix—etched itself permanently onto his memory.
He rose and moved to the window.
Morning light carved the city into still geometric forms, and an indescribable anticipation washed over him, like an echo left by decoding a massive data packet.
"It's still real," he whispered to himself.
His eyes flicked to the calendar on the wall: today was the day the College Entrance Exam results would be announced.
A glance at his phone showed 7:45—a little early.
He chose to visit Judy first—the outstanding AGI‑ST student now held by the National Guard. Though they had drifted apart recently, even become rivals, they were still classmates.
At the Detention Center.
Shawn stood among the crowd, hands hanging loosely, his body coiled like a drawn bowstring.
Through the throng, an elderly woman emerged—slender, with a veil that masked most of her face, revealing only her ash-gray brow and a pair of fathomless eyes. Her gaze carried the weight of a thousand years of silence.
"You did well," she said in a low voice. "But this… is not where you belong right now."
Shawn remained silent, his eyes locked on hers.
"They sent her to the 'Loop Cage.'" Nameless, but Shawn instantly understood it was Judy she meant.
"You cannot see her, and should not interfere—unless you want to go in, too."
He frowned, waves stirring beneath his calm tone. "Grandmother—who are you?"
Without a word, the old woman turned away, leaving only a parting words:
"I've always been by your side."
10:00 AM.
Results sprang across the class chat:
Dan Parker: 690
Shawn Mercer: 689
Judy Ellison: 688
Amid the celebration of record-breaking scores, a lone notification appeared in the Sunzen University's system:
"Shawn Mercer confirmed first-choice: Sunzen University, Department of Philosophy.
Keywords: Esoteric Studies, Mind, Beyond Structuralism."
Vance stared at the message in silence until his assistant asked quietly, "He really declined the special offer from Capital University?"
"He didn't decline—it's locked in. It's what he wanted."
"The philosophy department… Isn't that supposed to be obsolete by now?"
Vance smiled gently. "You don't understand. Sunzen is the pinnacle of global philosophical and artificial consciousness research. Especially their course in 'Eastern Esoteric Studies and Mathematical Philosophy'—nothing else compares."
Then he paused, spoke slowly, weightfully:
"Esoteric Studies is the future."
Evening: The Balcony.
Shawn leaned against the balcony railing as dusk and mist consumed the distant mountains, their outlines swallowed by the hush of passing time. The water in his glass had gone cold hours ago, but he still gripped it—a tether to something real.
A faint vibration on his phone disrupted the quiet. It was a message from Don:
"Congrats on second place—gather tonight?"
He stared at the text, weighing hidden implications, and said nothing. Minutes later, another message appeared—from Judy:
"I'm out."
Just four words, yet dropped like a stone into his quiet lake, waves radiating outward, refusing to settle. He read, then tapped out a reply:
"When can we meet?"
The response came swiftly:
"Tonight at 7. Library, old spot. Not just me—Don too. We need to talk."
He read it twice, then slipped the phone into his pocket, his pulse already ratcheting up in anticipation.
7:00 PM — Library, Third Floor
Night had fully settled when he climbed to the third floor.
Outside the windows, the city offered only a pale glow under streetlight shimmer.
Inside, soft lamplight created a warm cocoon in the reading area.
The three of them sat near the windows, their shadows merging and softening on the wooden floor—echoes of past tensions, yet to be resolved.
Judy sat directly across—her hair drawn back, face bearing traces of fatigue, but her expression calm and composed.
Don sat next to her, wearing his usual poised smile, as though this evening were no different than any other.
"Why did they detain you?" Shawn asked, voice laced with controlled urgency.
"Wrong comment on my circle post," Judy answered so softly it almost disappeared into the library's hush, her tone flat, as if describing someone else's misfortune.
"Administrative detention—no record, won't affect your record," Don added, conciliatory, as if defending her to an unseen tribunal.
Don glanced toward Shawn, his smile turning half-teasing, half-serious: "You really chose the Sunzen philosophy department? Aren't you afraid of becoming another Plato?"
Shawn raised a brow before replying calmly, "At least I won't be just another module in their system."
Judy allowed herself the faintest of smiles. "I've heard there's a course there called Yi‑Xiang Principles."
Shawn paused. "You know about that?"
She inclined her head, but no words followed—something past, unspoken, glimmered in her eyes.
Breaking the pause, Don continued, "We got into Sunzen too—just in a different program: Computational Intelligence and Cultural Fusion."
"'Counterpart major,'" Judy clarified, her gaze returning to Shawn. "Technically, that makes us alumni already."
Shawn looked genuinely surprised. Their scores could have placed them in more prestigious universities.
Don smiled knowingly. "We're planning to visit Dao Source Park tomorrow—sort of a send‑off, a wish for our university life. You should come. My treat. Think of it as clearing the air."
Shawn's expression stiffened. Dao Source Park—the scene of Don's earlier betrayal and his own near fall.
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning," Judy said, her voice steady but sincere, eyes locked on his. "This isn't a test or assignment. We just… want to see if trust can be rebuilt."
Don nodded in agreement. "Soon we'll leave this place. It's time to close old chapters."
Through the window, the blur of streetlights danced, their glow kissing Shawn's face. He lifted his chin, the lamplight casting a long, sinewy shadow across his features—an echo of something unresolved.
"Alright," he replied softly. "I'll go."
9:30 PM — At Home.
Shawn returned home and booted up his terminal. One by one, he logged every conversation from the evening with surgical precision.
He didn't trust Don; he couldn't fully trust Judy.
Dao Source Park—formerly the ancient Laozi Palace, now called Tiānjìng Temple—a place rich with symbolic weight, rumored to rest on ancient Qi-transformation grounds.
Why did it draw them back?
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen as thoughts roiled like magma beneath his calm.
Meta Matrix flickered across his mind. Could the park harbor information fragments—vestiges of the old era?
This wasn't just a casual reunion.
He closed his terminal and returned to the balcony.
Night had dropped like a curtain.
The wind chime dangled motionless, yet somewhere within that silence, a hidden current tickled his senses—as though a consciousness, woven through cyberspace's fractures, had begun its ascent.
He stood there in the stillness of a seemingly safe night, eyes tracing the horizon beyond the city's edge, anticipating the opening of that gate to the future.