“Good morning, Miss Calista Medley. It is now 8:00 in the morning of September 5th, 2349 in the city of Indianapolis, Indiana. Your TelePortation is scheduled at 9:00 AM in TelePort 3 in the Travel District.”

  ===

  The Air-Bus crossed the campus line and the Fistborn school soon came into sight. Calista’s emerald eyes were wide with childish excitement mixed with fear.

  After a tearful goodbye to her family— minus her mother— at the TelePort, she’d returned to Washington D.C. by herself. Today, all the new students would go through orientation, then start classes the next day.

  Calista took a deep, determined breath. This was the place she dreamed of going to as a little girl. She couldn’t give up on that dream so easily. She was never a Socializer, and those girls were never her friends; they were only there because their moms had a channel in their youth. Calista didn’t need any of them.

  She looked around the Air-Bus, observing the other new students. There were two triple-deckers taking them to the school. 330 lucky applicants on course to becoming part of the American fighter team. Calista felt out of place as she looked at their outfits. She’d chosen a cute outfit; a yellow, off-shoulder crop top that stopped just above her belly button, and a pair of blue slim-fit slacks that showed off just enough of her figure. White cushion shoes completed the ensemble. A silver necklace glinted across her collarbones and her black hair was perfectly straightened in a thick waterfall of ink, a yellow headband holding it in place.

  The other new students were wearing more athletic outfits— sweatpants, track pants, Fistborn jackets, and sleeveless tops. Maybe she should’ve tried to look the part a bit more. As her mother always said, “Be unique, but not too unique.”

  There were a couple of girls sitting next to her, but neither of them had made any friendly overtures. One was on her AIDA band and one stared at her lap, probably anxious. Calista couldn’t stand the awkward atmosphere between them.

  Well, if she had to be the one to say hello…

  “Hi, I’m Calista,” she said, looking at the girl next to her. It didn’t seem that she heard her; probably had a sound bubble on for whatever she was doing. “Okay.” Calista leaned to talk to the other girl. “Hi, there. I’m Calista.”

  The girl looked at her, a bit weirded out, it seemed. She was a small Mearthian with whitish-blond hair in a pixie cut. “Um… I’m Raleigh.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Calista said. “So… you’re a new student, too?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Cool. You excited?”

  The girl shrugged. “Guess so.”

  ‘Guess so’? How could she not be happy to get this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

  “I’m really nervous. I never thought I’d actually get in. I can’t believe we’re going to be in the same place as Lisa White! She’s my star idol. She’s uber-awesome and so pretty. I love her fighting.”

  Raleigh just stared at her. Calista’s stomach clenched in shame. Was she rambling too much? She sunk in her seat. “Anyway… you have any friends here?”

  Raleigh sighed and turned away. Calista raised her thick black brows and turned to the window. She had to remember this was Fistborn, not NYWS. In the Socializer school, she would be depending on meeting new people to get far in her career. Here, it was different.

  The Air-Bus went underground, stopping in the station. It opened up onto a platform. “Welcome to Fistborn Academy. Please exercise caution while exiting the Air-Bus…” Everyone filed off the bus and walked out onto the square platform, being instantly teleported one by one. Calista found herself in a large, red hallway with windows letting in natural light from above. The crowd of new students murmured in awe, looking around with excited eyes.

  In front of them stood three people; President Chrisman, Vice President Kalley, and Dean Lisa White. Calista instantly squealed at seeing her new idol again. “It’s her! It’s really her!” She shook someone’s arm next to her. “Can you imagine Lisa White teaching us? Like, literally teaching us and showing us her cheat codes? Uber-amazing!”

  Her excitement dimmed slightly when she looked up at the person. He was a tall, hulking Mercurian with rocky red skin, probably a good few years older than Calista. She let go of his arm and smiled shyly. “Sorry. Got excited.”

  The Mercurian raised a brow and looked away. Calista couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smirking at whoever was with him. It was the classic Secret Smile head turn. One of the basics of mocking someone behind their back, yet still letting them know what was being thought of them. She’d known how to hide her mockery since she was a kid— not that she liked to mock people. She would just use it with Danica and Rebecca whenever they mocked someone, mainly Elizabeth.

  She had to calm down and stop acting like an ultra fangirl. Clearly, everyone else was a lot more serious. If she wanted to be a fighter, she’d have to act like one.

  “Welcome to Fistborn Academy!” President Chrisman announced, smiling a bit. “I hope all of you had a wonderful trip,” she said. “Congratulations on passing your admissions exams and becoming our honored Versus School students. We hope the next four to sixteen years of your career are filled with success and victory.”

  “The Orientation program will be on your AIDA bands,” Lisa White said. As she spoke, all of their AIDA bands beeped with the schedule for the day. “Prepare yourselves for your first classes tomorrow. A Versus School student’s life is nothing short of grueling. The exams will seem like nothing compared to what you’ll face in the next few months. Any one of you could be traveling with us to Los Angeles for the international prelims. If you want that spot on the country team, you’ll have to prove you’re worthy enough to be accepted.”

  “Once you complete your orientation, you will be shown to your dorms,” Vice President Kalley said. “Some of you will have your own rooms, others will have one or two roommates. If you do have roommates, we hope you can get along well. We are all a team, and we expect any differences to be settled in a calm and mature manner. The whole purpose of the Versus is to settle grudges through controlled combat. Self-control is key.”

  Calista hoped to have roommates. She needed at least a couple of friends to start with. Hopefully they weren’t like that girl Raleigh.

  “I will be virtually heading the tour of Fistborn’s campus,” President Chrisman said. “Should you have any questions, please send them through your AIDA band and the rest of the board will answer.”

  Benson Kalley smiled. “Enjoy your orientation, and welcome again to Fistborn Academy.” He turned away with Lisa White, leaving Chrisman behind.

  “Where you are standing now is the Hall of Affairs. Here, you will find meeting rooms, tutoring rooms, the Auditorium, and the widely-used Studitorium, as well as all of our personal offices, should you have any concerns to take up with a faculty or staff member. Now, please stand in the circle.” She pointed to the large, blue circle in the middle of the hall, which was big enough to accommodate all 330 of the students. Calista felt a little crammed in by the tall students around her. In a flash, they were all teleported to another building.

  This building had a narrower hallway, but still wide enough to fit a lot of people. There were classroom signs glowing on the walls and open doorways all down the hall. The ceiling was high, allowing blue banners with the academy’s crest to hang. President Chrisman now appeared in a virtual image, evident by the transparency.

  “This is your home, the Versus Fighting School. Here, students attend classes for at least four years and at most sixteen years, with year levels divided into four-year sections. The years between Versus Games are optional for students, but we highly encourage constant training to ensure our team is always the best of the best. The Versus Fighting School is a personal wing located in the School of Combat building.”

  What exactly was the difference? Calista heard of the Versus Fighting School being referred to separately from the School of Combat. Were there two, in that case? She input the question in her AIDA band as Chrisman’s hologram led the students down the hall. It seemed that this particular hall had been cleared for the tour.

  “The Versus Fighting School contains up to 1320 students,” Lisa White answered Calista. “It is a sub-division of the main School of Combat that specializes in training the next country team for the upcoming Versus Games. It only accepts students during a Versus Games year, and these students can take time away from the academy during non-Versus years. The School of Combat, on the other hand, offers four years to thousands of students looking to follow a fighting career without participating in the Versus Games. If a Versus student ages out after less than sixteen years in the school, they are transferred to the non-Versus track to complete their education and graduate.”

  “The Versus School is also the only school in Fistborn Academy that gives out full scholarships,” Benson added. “The other schools; Fighting, Journalism, and whatnot, do not give out full-rides. They offer partial scholarships, but otherwise have to be paid for out of personal accounts.”

  “Wow,” Calista breathed. She was attending the Versus school completely for free. Her mother had to use her connections to get her the full-ride to NYWS.

  They went through an indoor glass bridge that overlooked a large gymnasium. Below, they could see the other students working out and training, all of them wearing athletic blue and red uniforms. Calista paused, pressing her face to the glass as she watched them. Some of the men, humans and aliens alike, were pretty handsome specimens. One in particular caught her eye: Harrison Smith.

  She’d always remember the gorgeous face she’d seen on the freeze scans around the city. He was cute four years ago, but now that he was older? He was uber-stellar. She watched as he trained on a CDSim, delivering punches and kicks.

  What if she got to take a class with him?! It would definitely be hard to concentrate!

  “Move it, human,” a marble-white skinned Voraxian woman muttered, practically shoving Calista forward.

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  “Sorry, sorry,” Calista said, hurrying forward. Voraxians were known for their monstrous heights and strength. She knew better than to anger one of them.

  “We have now passed over to the School of Combat for the non-Versus track,” President Chrisman said as they entered another hallway. “This school contains thousands of students looking to become coaches, professors, and experts in combat.” Unlike the other hallway, this one was full of students, who made way for the tour group. They all wore different uniforms from the ones in the gym; blue blazers with the academy crest shining on their chests and formal red pants.

  ‘Why are there different uniforms?’ Calista asked on her AIDA band.

  “The formal uniforms are used during Combat Theory classes— classes that do not involve physical training,” Lisa answered. “The practicum uniforms are used during Practicum classes to allow movement and circulation.”

  The uniforms looked pretty stiff, though. Calista actually preferred the NYWS outfits with the light shirts and skirts. They could use a few modifications.

  The group stood in another blue circle, teleporting to another building, which was also full of students. This time, Calista noticed a few girls wearing a red skirt instead of pants. So they did have more variants to the uniform.

  Even so, it still looked… sort of plain, with no flair or eye-catching quality to it. It felt like something was missing to complete the ensemble.

  “The School of Journalism contains careers for students to follow the Versus Games through a reporter’s lens. They eventually move on to the large Versus News corporations to share the fighters’ stories and progress with the rest of the world, and by extension, the galaxy.”

  Unlike the Fighting students that hardly spared their group a glance, these students stared at them and whispered to one another, much like Calista expected Socializers to do. Being Journalism students, gossip about fighters was their ticket to a job.

  They always made fun of Socializers, but they were pretty similar, weren’t they?

  The other two schools were the School of Medical Science, for medics specializing in treating fighters in the competition, and the School of Strategy and Relations created the analysts and PR officers that sponsored fighters, weighed odds, and measured stats.

  After finishing the tour of the Versus Wing, they also did a quick tour of the other half of Fistborn— the Technological Wing. Here, there were schools for Design, Architecture, Engineering, and Medical Technology. The students here were a bit more excited to see the new Versus School students. After all, once they graduated, they would be operating the game maps and designing the combat suits for the fighters in the competition.

  Katelyn would thrive here. Her skills in architecture and technology were incredible. But as Lisa said, only the Versus school offered full rides, and after everything that happened, Jennifer would never pay to send Katelyn here.

  Throughout the tour, Calista couldn’t help her intense anxiety. People were looking at her strangely and laughing at her excited reactions. Just her outfit alone was a sign that she didn’t belong there, just like her family said.

  But she couldn’t let Katelyn or Quincy down after everything they did for her. She was here for a reason. She was chosen for a reason. Hopefully a good one. She couldn’t waste this opportunity. All she had to do was her best.

  The class was teleported back to the Hall of Affairs at the end of the tour. Checking her AIDA band, Calista read her orientation schedule.

  9:00-10:30 AM: Fistborn Campus Tour

  10:30-11:45 AM: Coach Meet and Greet/Schedule Planning

  11:45 AM-12:30 PM: Dormitory Assignments

  12:30-1:30 PM: Lunch and Q&A

  1:30 PM: Free Time

  “You will now be sent to the Training Center to meet your new coaches and plan out your schedules for the year,” President Chrisman said. “Classes at Fistborn start at 7:30 in the morning; one hour after the Breakfast period.”

  She had to wake up at six in the morning?! Were they glitching crazy?! Calista resisted a groan.

  “Congratulations once again. We are honored to have you join the Fistborn family.” President Chrisman’s hologram disappeared, followed by their teleportation into the Training Center, where most Practicum classes took place. It was directly connected to the School of Combat. They were in one of the gyms, where all the coaches stood in two straight lines waiting for them.

  The coaches ranged from smiling Mearthians to frowning Voraxians; there was even an Emitonian among them. Calista noticed that while there were plenty of mixed species, there wasn’t one Earthian coach, except for Lisa White, who was a ‘higher’ version of a coach by being a Dean.

  This school was on planet Earth… yet there were so few humans.

  ===

  Medley, Calista: Room VW1F-125

  Calista made her way through the women’s dorm hall, finally finding her dorm room. It seemed that it was a single room, so no roommates. Calista didn’t know whether she felt disappointed or relieved. She couldn’t help the swell of pride when she read her name on the door: ‘Calista Medley, Student #165’

  She scanned herself before saying her name aloud to open the door. “Wow,” she smiled.

  A large, comfortable sleeping capsule was against the left wall, with all the newest features. A large window gave way to a balcony, bringing natural light into the room. A HARP was installed for her entertainment with a study area built next to it, making up a small office.

  She giggled and ran up to her capsule, where she collapsed onto the soft pad. It was beyond comfortable. She went up to the clothing selection system next to the capsule and stepped into the changing circle. When she opened the menu, all her clothes were available, having been transferred successfully, and there were Fistborn uniforms tailored just for her.

  There was the formal one she saw, which had a version with pants and a version with a skirt. There was also a jumpsuit, a bra-and-shorts pair for workouts, a swimsuit, and a sleep suit. “Amazing…” She tapped on the uniform with the skirt.

  It replaced her outfit and she turned around to inspect it. It was comfortable and fit her perfectly. The jacket was ocean blue, combined nicely with the dark red skirt and blue cushion shoes.

  AIDA provided a mirror screen so she could see herself. It looked okay on her, but… eh. It could use some styling. There was just something about these uniforms that didn’t seem… complete. Oh, well. Nothing she could do about it. This wasn’t a fashion school, after all.

  “AIDA?” she called.

  The speakers beeped. “Hello, Calista. What can I do for you?”

  She smiled. A personal AIDA? Stellar. “How much time do I have until I have to go to lunch?”

  “You currently have 40 minutes,” AIDA answered.

  That was enough time to try and make friends. Maybe she could stop by some of the other dorms and introduce herself.

  “Incoming call from unsaved code. Identified as Medley Residence, House 986, #356 South, Residential District. Code RESDIS-3445, Indianapolis, Indiana.”

  She smiled and eagerly went to her sleep capsule. “Answer, please! Save the address as ‘Kate’.”

  The hologram projected in front of her, showing her siblings in one room and her father in another. “Hi, guys!” she said.

  “Hi!” Katelyn squealed in excitement. “How is it over there?”

  “It’s cool. My room is uber-cute! I got a tour, and my uniforms. We’re going to lunch in about 40 minutes.”

  “Have you made any friends?” Henry asked.

  “Eh… not a lot of time. Maybe at lunch, we’ll talk to each other.” Calista made sure not to fade her smile.

  “Did you see anyone you know?” Katelyn asked. “Any famous fighters?”

  “I saw Harrison Smith during the tour. He was training.”

  The younger Medley sister gasped. “Really?! I love him. He’s my favorite. What’s he like?”

  “I didn’t talk to him, but… he’s GP,” Calista said, using the Socializer slang term for ‘gorgeous’. ‘GP’ meant ‘generated person’, which were AI-generated characters that showed up on HARP shows like Astrana. They were always perfect in every way— a Socializer’s eye candy.

  “They have spas, you know,” Calista continued. “It’s in this place called the Recreation Station. No Thinners, but still nice ones— for free!”

  “You won’t need Thinners. They’ll work you to death,” Quincy said.

  “It’s just weird. Could you imagine what the fans would say? No Thinners for the next few months.”

  “Well, we’re not imagining what they’d say because we don’t care,” Katelyn shrugged. “Don’t think about them.”

  “You’re right.” Calista’s heart clenched with homesickness. She was excited, but she kind of wished she’d stayed home. She felt so alone in this huge room, without her sister there to console her, or even her mother to give her advice. Jennifer always told her exactly what to do and how to do it. Now that she was on her own…

  After a good talk, the AIDA alerted her to proceed to the Recreation Station in five minutes. She wished she had more time with them. She would have to sleep early if she wanted to be up and ready at 6 in the morning the next day.

  “We love you. Tell us all about your first day tomorrow night, okay?” Her sister smiled proudly. “You’ll do amazing, I know it.”

  “Uber-amazing!” Quincy mocked in a high-pitched voice.

  “Shut up,” she laughed, hiding her discomfort. If she wanted less people to mock her, she really needed to lose the Socializer slangs. “Good night, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Bye!” The hologram disappeared. She lied down, staring at the window. There were all sorts of feelings bouncing around in her stomach: happiness, excitement, insecurity, confusion, anger, guilt… and fear. Mostly fear.

  She went to the window and looked out at the courtyard. Below her, she could see a few students milling about, but not many. Most were in class, even though it was a weekend. No vacations or breaks until the Versus Games started.

  What had she gotten herself into? How could she compete with everyone here? They all knew how to move, how to fight, how to take hits. They couldn’t be more different than she was.

  ===

  Calista decided to wear something more ‘athletic’ when she went to lunch. She chose a red crop top with sweat absorbers coupled with black track tights and matching sneakers. Her perfectly Thinned abdomen was in full view. She could already see a bulge forming, though; her mother would glitch out.

  Since her mother wasn’t here to obsess over it, now she was obsessing. But she couldn’t. She needed to focus on becoming a fighter, not keeping her perfect measurements.

  Her mind was still on her appearance when she arrived at the Mess Hall in the Recreation Station. There were a few women wearing exercise bras or crop tops, showing off their hardened abs and muscular arms. Nothing like Calista. She probably looked like a porcelain doll.

  She swallowed to moisten her dry throat as she looked for a table. The other students were in class, so only the new students were here. Many of them had formed groups already while others sat at random tables and went on their Pet or AIDA band screens, ignoring those around them.

  She needed to make at least one friend. Fighters weren’t all antisocial, right?

  She slid into an empty seat at one of the tables where the students seemed animated, talking and laughing. None of them noticed her presence, even when the AIDA generated her food in a bright flash. Calista didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, but it didn’t look like they were pausing anytime soon.

  She nibbled on her flavor-enhanced salad, glancing at the others. They were all intimidating; hardened muscles, crazy hairstyles, even some scars on their faces. They laughed boisterously and shoved each other playfully. Were all fighters like this? Would Calista have to adapt to this kind of interaction?

  She drank her strawberry-banana smoothie with weight-loss cream, taking a breath before turning to the person next to her. “Hi, how are you?”

  The boy looked at her, off-put by the introduction. He was a young Mercurian, probably around fifteen in human years, with coal-black, rocky skin. Mercurians didn’t grow hair; instead, their scalps hardened into colored lava crust— this boy’s was a bright orange that contrasted against his skin color.

  Calista ignored the silence, keeping her smile. “I’m Calista. Calista Medley.” She flipped her black hair back and scanned the boy’s outfit; it seemed to be made of a sort of rocky material, much like his skin. “Love the vest, by the way!” she complimented him. “I’ve never seen one like that. I guess I’m, like, uber-focused on human stuff. Should network a bit better.” She knew a couple of alien languages from the high school courses she took, but not much else. She always wanted to explore other planets’ cultures, but she wasn’t very encouraged to do so by her friends or family. She had to ‘focus on the fans’, as always.

  The boy smirked, glancing at his friends. “Yeah, how about you uber-focus on your pink shake and let us eat, uber-girlie?” The group snickered and returned to their previous conversation, now speaking in a non-human language.

  Calista did not envision her first days as a Fighting student like this. When she was younger, she always dreamed of learning so many disciplines and defeating her classmates until everyone regarded her with admiration. But after all these years, she was focusing so much on making friends.

  Maybe making friends wasn’t really the priority for a lot of people… but they had friends, obviously. They engaged in social interaction. Maybe they just didn’t want to be friends with her. Was it that obvious she was a Socializer? Was it to the point that all the other girls refused to be her roommates, landing her with a solo room?

  The divide definitely ran deeper than she bargained for.