"Brrrrrrng!"

  The military alarm exploded in the Academy corridors like a sonic grenade. Brando's eyes snapped open as he clearly felt his heart hammering in his chest. Where was he? For a moment he remained disoriented, then reality crashed down on him relentlessly: he was in his new dormitory room.

  "Shit," he murmured, running a hand over his face. He had barely slept at all.

  A muffled whimper caught his attention. The still-unnamed puppy had found refuge under the bed, curled up among old blankets it had dragged down during the night. And Brando? He let himself fall back onto the mattress, staring at the peeling ceiling. What had happened the day before continued to swirl in his head...

  "I saw something on the Artifact," Brando said, staring at an indefinite point beyond the cafeteria window. His voice was low, almost a whisper.

  Giordano froze mid-bite, his fork suspended in mid-air. For someone who never stopped eating, it was already a worrying sign. "Like what?"

  "An eye." Brando clenched his fists on the table. "Huge. Red. It covered the entire Artifact and was staring at me. I don't know how to explain it to you, but it really happened."

  "Bro..." Giordano slowly set down his fork, studying his friend's face. "Are you sure it wasn't because of Esposito's punch? I mean, he hit you hard enough to—"

  "The puppy saw it too." Brando gently pushed the backpack on the table. The creature inside was visibly trembling. "It hasn't stopped shaking since that moment."

  "Maybe it's just scared of the new place," Giordano suggested.

  "No." Brando shook his head. "You should have seen it at that moment. It was as if..."

  "As if what?"

  "As if someone or something was looking at it in return."

  Giordano leaned across the table, observing first the trembling puppy, then Brando, and then the puppy again. His usual idiotic smile had completely disappeared, replaced by an expression Brando had never seen on him before. "Brando, I'm being honest. I'm having a hard time believing you, but if it's like you say... it's very strange."

  "Yeah."

  "But wait," Giordano scratched his chin, thoughtful. "Can you remind me exactly when it happened?"

  "During the tour. Right while Michelotti was explaining the history of the Artifact."

  "And no one else noticed it?"

  "No one."

  "Not even Michelotti?"

  "If she had seen it, do you think she would have stayed calm?"

  "And don't you think you might have just imagined—"

  "No, Giordano, I don't know what to think," Brando interrupted him, his voice oozing frustration. "With all my problems, the last thing I need is to be going crazy."

  "But if you say the puppy—"

  "I said I don't want to think about it, damn it!" Brando's fist came down on the table, making the silverware jump.

  Giordano remained silent for a long moment, studying his friend with an unusually serious look. Then he nodded slowly. "You know what? I don't know if what you saw was real or not. But if you say the puppy reacted that way, I want to trust you, buddy."

  Perhaps that was all Brando needed to hear at that moment.

  Later, the two had said goodbye and an attendant had escorted him to his room. As expected, no luxury dormitory for a Zeta. They had placed him in a secondary wing of the Academy, far from the main quarters.

  His room was a double with a bed that had clearly never been used. "No one wants to share a room with a Zeta," the attendant had said before leaving. Not that Brando cared. The window overlooked an inner courtyard, and there was even a private bathroom.

  The puppy had cautiously explored the space, sniffing every corner with all three eyes wide open. In the end, it had decided that under Brando's bed was the safest place, dragging everything it could there to make itself a little den.

  "Still better than the orphanage," Brando had murmured before collapsing onto the bed.

  But sleep just wouldn't come. He knew he wasn't crazy and that what he had seen was real. Why had no one ever talked about it before? Was it possible that he was the only one who had ever seen it? He had stared at the ceiling for hours, thinking about the giant red eye. And every time he closed his eyes, he still seemed to feel it staring at him through the darkness.

  ***

  It was five past six in the morning and the alarm had stopped ringing. Brando, with a heroic gesture, lifted himself from the bed and dragged himself toward the chipboard wardrobe. As for his ribs, they were a bit better but still ached.

  After washing up and getting ready, he opened the wardrobe and saw his Cold Soldier uniform hanging like a white flag. He had already found it the night before but hadn't touched it. He wanted to save that emotion for the next day.

  He pulled it out with a grimace. It wasn't like those of the other students he had seen the day before. Those were immaculate and tailored to perfection. Here the fabric was second-hand, probably recycled from a much lower quality raw material. But it was clean, he had to admit that.

  Then he noticed the emblem on the chest. Or rather, what should have been an emblem. Where others wore the proud symbols of their houses, he had only an empty, faded circle. Like a worn coin, or a full moon that had forgotten to rise.

  "What the hell..." He murmured, running his fingers over that area where there was nothing. The message was very clear: no lineage, no emblem. A mark of shame disguised as a uniform.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  He turned to the bathroom mirror as he put it on. The reflection showed someone trying to look like a future Cold Soldier. The uniform even fit him well, and that was a problem. It made him look like he was part of something, but that empty circle made it clear that he wasn't.

  "Fuck you," he said to his reflection. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him defeated.

  The puppy had meanwhile transformed the space under the bed into a veritable fortress made of twisted blankets. The thermometer they had been given at the enclosure read thirty-two degrees Celsius: the perfect temperature.

  "At least you've found your place," he said, bending down to scratch behind its ears. The puppy wagged its tail with all three eyes shining with contentment. Then Brando straightened up, adjusting the collar of his uniform. Now he couldn't think about the Alien Artifact; he had to focus on his first day of school. He looked at himself one last time in the mirror, noticing how the empty circle on his chest drew attention.

  "Strength and preservation. Weakness and ruin," he said to himself.

  ***

  The Academy corridors were a river of white uniforms moving toward the classrooms. Brando walked against the current, feeling the stares sticking to him like annoying insects. The empty circle on his chest was like a target, and everyone seemed to want to shoot at it.

  "Hey, did you see?"

  "His emblem is..."

  "He doesn't have an emblem, idiot."

  "How can someone like that..."

  The voices overlapped in a deafening buzz, and the classroom was already half full when Brando entered. The emblems on the others' uniforms shone like jewels, and that carnival of nobility made his empty circle look even more bare.

  "Hey, Casadei!"

  Giordano was already seated at the back with his messy hair exactly as it had been the day before. His Volpe emblem shone on his chest, but his uniform was as rumpled as if it had been deliberately made that way.

  "You look like shit," he said as Brando sat down next to him. "Didn't you sleep?"

  "No."

  "Uncomfortable bed?"

  "More comfortable than the orphanage."

  "And the ribs?"

  "They only hurt if I exert myself."

  Giordano grinned. "You're better off than me, then, my friend."

  But his smile faded when Brando sat down and an irritating murmur rose around them. The laughter of the other students stung like needles, and the reason was clearly the emblem that Brando wore on his chest.

  "You know," Giordano said in a low voice, "I could always—"

  "Don't talk nonsense," Brando interrupted him. "I don't need to be defended."

  "Who said anything about defending you? I was just thinking of reddening a few noble behinds. Just for sport."

  Brando was about to respond when the door opened and everything suddenly fell silent. Everyone had been present for quite some time, and Michelotti entered with her usual military stride, immediately followed by Esposito.

  "What a pain," Giordano whispered. "This guy shows up late and then will definitely give us hell if we're not punctual?"

  "So much for consistency," Brando murmured, crossing his arms.

  Esposito positioned himself behind the desk with a metal box in his hands. The light filtering through the windows made it shine as if it had just been polished.

  "Good morning, everyone," he said in that tone that had already made Brando's stomach turn. "Sleep well?"

  No one answered. The Lieutenant didn't seem to expect a response.

  "Today you'll receive your personal KryoWatches." He lifted the box as if he were showing a sacred relic. "KryoWatches are not simple watches. They are the very symbol of being a Bearer, a sign of belonging to the Academy. They allow you to monitor your progress, access the Academy's central database, and even—"

  He paused, enjoying the class's attention. The students hung on his every word, except for Brando who continued to stare at the desk as if the explanation didn't concern him.

  "And even to measure your true strength," Esposito concluded. "I'll call you one by one. When you have yours, I'll show you how it works."

  "Want to bet mine will be made of plastic?" Brando whispered.

  "Nah," Giordano replied. "Plastic's too expensive. Yours will be made of recycled paper."

  Brando observed the watches that Esposito pulled out of the box. They were elegant devices, with very bright displays and premium wristbands. He had already heard about KryoWatches. Who hadn't? They were the dream of every kid in Nea-Polis, the symbol of Bearers' power. It was said they could do incredible things: analyze Glacials from a distance, memorize data, even open dimensional rifts to store objects.

  But above all, they showed in black and white how much you were worth as a Bearer. Or in Brando's case, how little.

  "Davide Ripa!"

  The giant rose from his seat with that unsettling grace. His KryoWatch shone as if freshly forged, and the Ripa family emblem, a rampant bear, was engraved with surgical precision on the face.

  "Alessandro Ricci!"

  "Marco Ruocco!"

  The students received their watches one after the other. Each had their own family emblem that shone in the window light.

  "Giordano Volpe!"

  "Finally," Giordano murmured, rising. "I was about to put down roots."

  Esposito handed him the KryoWatch with poorly concealed reluctance. Even though a bastard, he was still a Volpe. The two-headed dog of his house seemed almost alive on the face.

  "Brando Casadei!"

  Silence fell in the classroom like a guillotine. Brando stood up, ignoring the twinge in his ribs. The gazes of others followed him as he approached the desk. Some were curious, others scornful, most simply disgusted.

  Esposito pulled out the last KryoWatch as if he were handling trash. It was visibly different from the others: smaller, dimmer, with a scratched display and a wristband that had seen better days. And of course, no emblem. Just that empty circle that seemed to mock him.

  Brando took it without saying a word, without even looking at Esposito. The metal was cold to the touch, almost hostile.

  "Now," Esposito said, "you can put them on."

  Click. Click. Click.

  The sound of wristbands closing filled the classroom. Brando looked at his KryoWatch, feeling it strangely heavy on his wrist. The display lit up with a faint glow, very different from the brilliant light of the other devices.

  "Welcome to the system," Esposito said. "Soon you'll see your basic information appear."

  As if Esposito had pressed an invisible switch, all the screens lit up together. Exclamations of wonder and excited whispers filled the air as students read their own data.

  Brando lowered his gaze to his display. The screen appeared, flickering.

  KryoWatch operational, Welcome! MAIN SCREEN Name: Brando Casadei Rank: Zeta Stage: [Not Determined] Level: [Not Determined]

  The students remained open-mouthed: what was that strange table that had appeared on their devices? Even Brando was stunned for a moment. The only person who wasn't surprised was Bianca; for her, it really seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She closed the screen and prepared to leave the classroom. Seeing this scene, the eyes of all the students turned toward the back of the blonde-haired girl.

  Is she crazy? Brando thought. No one dared move while Esposito was speaking, let alone stand up and leave. Yet she walked as if the lieutenant's authority was just an annoying detail to ignore.

  Even Giordano was speechless, and the other students stared at her as if hypnotized.

  The Lieutenant, obviously, didn't take it well.

  "Ehh, Ruggeri, where are you going?"

  Bianca didn't even turn around. She continued walking undeterred.

  "I've got my KryoWatch, I have nothing else to do in this classroom today. I'm going to sleep."

  SLAM!

  Esposito's fist came down on the desk like thunder. The metal box of KryoWatches jumped, and even Michelotti took a small step back.

  "Ruggeri, sit back down immediately! What kind of behavior is this?! The lesson hasn't even begun!"

  Her behavior was truly unacceptable to Esposito. The day before, moreover, she hadn't even shown up for the Academy tour. This made the Lieutenant even more hostile toward her. The birthmark on his cheek now pulsed as if it had a life of its own.

  Bianca didn't move from her position, now near the classroom door. She merely turned and did something with her KryoWatch.

  In an instant, a screen appeared on Esposito's device that made him turn pale. Even Michelotti, who was behind him, was stunned. The students present were wondering what the two Cold Soldiers were seeing, but they couldn't figure it out.

  Shortly after, Bianca left the classroom without adding anything more.