“Good morning, Miss Calista Medley. It is now 6:15 in the morning of September 6th, 2349 in the city of Washington D.C. Good luck on your first day at Fistborn Academy.”

  Calista was slightly startled when AIDA didn’t mention her home city, but then remembered where she was. She groaned and wrapped herself back up in her covers. She couldn’t sleep one wink the night before, her stomach so wrought with anxiety that the sleep capsule couldn’t do anything to put her out without compromising her health.

  Before she could psych herself into getting up, she was suddenly shot out of the bed, as if from a cannon, and she landed on her rear in the middle of the room. “Ow! What the glitch, AIDA!”

  “I apologize. But it would be detrimental to your life as a student if you miss breakfast. What will be your order?”

  “Holy Trojans. Don’t do that again.” She rubbed her behind. “I don’t know, I’m not hungry.”

  “It is not recommended to attend class without eating breakfast.”

  “Ugh.” Calista went to the window, seeing numerous students already walking along the pathways below. How could they be so energetic at this ungodly hour? It was probably easy without growing up with a beauty sleep schedule.

  “God, give me strength…” She stretched, her eyelids heavy. “What would you recommend for breakfast?” Clearly, her usual diet wouldn’t do. Fighters ate heavy stuff with thousands of calories, right?

  “For humans, I highly recommend meals containing high protein and iron levels, particularly eggs, beans, and meats. There are non-carnivorous options, as well.”

  “I guess an omelet, then.” She winced at herself. Her weight would balloon up with such a change. She was 110 pounds, and her mother had been trying to get her down to 105. She would have maybe 1,000 calories a day.

  “What kind?” AIDA asked.

  She hesitated. “Uh… you pick. The basic one. Least calories.” Maybe a more gradual approach to this new diet would be better.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Vanilla-berry latte with weight-therapy cream. Actually, add some coloring to it, make it look like black coffee.”

  “Very well. Please proceed to the Mess Hall for your meal.”

  She dressed into her formal uniform and went to the window again. The Surveillance tower above the Hall of Affairs gleamed with the FBA crest, greeting the students from above.

  She straightened, puffing out her chest. She wanted to be here almost all her life. If she could handle living with her mother and being with the SociaLights the past few years, she could survive breakfast.

  ===

  Harrison stepped out of his closet, dressed in his formal uniform, which was a little different from the others’; he had blue pants instead of red and a necktie added to the outfit. The most distinguishing features of his attire were the Student Coach patches on both his jacket sleeves. They were glowing orange patches that read, Harrison Smith, SC-10, which surrounded a large ‘K’ for Kappa— his corresponding letter. If he had a Guild, it would be called Guild Kappa.

  He wondered if in the next twelve years he had left in the academy, he could become someone admirable. Maybe he had fans in the new class willing to learn from him. There had to be at least one, right?

  Of course, fanbases were always the most unforgiving communities. Once they felt betrayed, they never gave their former idols a chance to explain or even apologize. They’d throw them in the cachebin to be scourged upon for the rest of time.

  There were plenty of students here that treated him okay, acknowledging the Student Coach uniform and patches, but he knew they only respected him out of formality. To directly disrespect a Student Coach, regardless of rumors, was against the academy bylaws. Their way of protesting his position was leaving him Guild-less.

  He went to the Mess Hall, which was noticeably fuller than usual with the new students replacing the graduated ones. The tables were more packed and animated, leaving just one empty; the glowing orange one that stood beside the line of colored tables belonging to the different Guilds. A constant reminder of how everyone saw him.

  As he stepped inside to get to the Student Coach table, a student brushed past him, nearly knocking him over. “Oh, I’m so-” The girl stopped short, her green eyes widening when she looked up at his face.

  Harrison couldn’t help pausing, raising a brow. He didn’t often get this reaction. “You okay?” he finally asked.

  The girl blinked, looking down as her porcelain skin turned red. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Harrison chuckled. He noticed her uniform; she was wearing a skirt. He’d never seen anyone in the School of Combat wear it. “Um, are you one of the new ones?” he then asked.

  “Y-yeah, I am!” the girl said enthusiastically. “I-I’m Calista.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Calista, I’m-”

  “Harrison Smith, tenth best student in the country, fourth best fighter on the planet.” She blushed again. “Sorry, that was rude.”

  “No, you’re okay. That’s correct. You need help finding a seat, Calista?”

  “Um…” She looked towards the full tables. Harrison noticed a few students looking at them; probably wondering why this girl bothered to talk to Cheater. “I’m good. I’ve got a seat.”

  “Okay. Good luck on your first day. Welcome.” Harrison offered another smile and walked away, brushing his brown curls back. It felt… pretty nice to actually be admired by someone. No one had reacted to him like that in years.

  He arrived at the table and sat across from Catherine, who smiled. “Made a new friend, eh?” she said.

  “She bumped into me.”

  “Mm. What do you think of ‘er?”

  He shrugged. “She’s nice. I just met her.”

  “A supermodel, too,” Kalis snickered. “She looks like she’s on a runway at a pageant or something. You see how she walks? All…” He imitated Calista sashaying exaggeratedly, bringing out chuckles. “Where does she think she is?”

  “Imagine her fighting in that skirt,” Li Mei added, her thin, orange eyes curving with laughter, sparkling lightly.

  Harrison didn’t say anything, instead starting to eat his eggs. He had noticed the girl’s walk— it did seem… not weird. It was smooth and confident, and as Kalis said, it was as if she were on a fashion runway.

  “You don’t find her odd, Harrison?” Reilly asked.

  Harrison sighed. He really didn’t feel like dealing with Reilly’s indirect insults. His British accent made him all the more condescending. “I met her two seconds ago.”

  “You can get a lot out of a person by simply observing them for a few seconds.”

  “Isn’t she that one that fainted when she saw blood?” Delaine asked.

  “A lot of people fainted.”

  “Yeah, but I remember hers. She just looked at her glove and…” Delaine imitated Calista passing out.

  “She got in?” Kalis scoffed. “Standards are getting low.”

  “They’ve been low. That admissions board is slacking for sure,” said Melsen. “Next thing you know… anyone can become a Student Coach.” He deliberately gave Harrison a glance.

  “I don’t think they’ll loosen up that much,” Elisa interjected, also glancing at Harrison with a bit of pity. “Us SC’s will always be the best. We all have different fields of expertise, you know?”

  “True, but… you have to admit Fistborn could use some more exclusivity. Don’t want a bunch of impostors getting a spot in this academy, do we?”

  “Melsen’s right. Let’s face it, we could use some better quality so other planets don’t mock us all the time,” Disaris said.

  “It’s all a matter of improvement,” St?sten said. “It’s our job to shape everyone up while they’re still green.”

  “We can’t assume someone’s future off of the first few seconds of knowing them,” Harrison finally spoke. “I’m sure there’s a lot of newbies here that don’t look the part, but will become the part.”

  “Of course. People like that girl just need some coaching, right?” Disaris said with a nod. “Maybe she can be your student. She’ll need something easy to start with. And, since you’re both the same species, you should know what to teach her, right?” He smirked mockingly. “Your expertise in… creating alternative ways to succeed should get her far regardless of her skill level.”

  Harrison inhaled. He was not in the mood for any of their antics or comments about his career. It seemed that he’d have to hit them back with equal force.

  “Speaking of our students… by the way, Disaris, how’s Gronin?” he asked with a wide smile. Gronin Tufts was a student that got expelled from the academy a couple of years ago. Disaris had just been made Student Coach after the 2346 Games, and Gronin had been one of his Favorite students. His rep had taken a good hit when Gronin was discovered in a hidden room consuming illegal enhancers, causing his expulsion and arrest. To this day, it was a sore spot for Disaris.

  The bulky-shaped Voraxmartian’s smile instantly faded. His blue skin tinged a bit in red. Unfortunately, he didn’t inherit his Voraxian side’s inability to blush.

  “He’s got a couple more years to go in prison, right?” Harrison continued. “You should visit him sometime. Maybe if he gets released on Versus parole, he can come back as your star Favorite.” He smiled, eating his eggs with satisfaction.

  “You don’t get to ask-”

  “You walked right into that one,” Reilly said, rolling his eyes.

  “Shut up.”

  “Alright, let’s stop bothering ‘im,” Catherine laughed dismissively. “He’s not called ‘One-Punch’ for nothin’, Harrison. Let Disaris calm down.”

  “Sure. I know when to respect someone.” Harrison smiled again, relishing in the second-ranking student’s death glare. Hopefully, during the competition, they’d settle grudges. He was dying to show old Disaris ‘One-Punch’ Okione how strong Cheater was.

  ===

  Breakfast couldn’t be more awkward. The other new students let Calista sit at their table, but they hardly looked or talked to her. After a couple introductions from some friendly humans, the conversation ended as fast as it started.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Either way, she tried not to let it bother her, hiding her insecurity behind a perfect smile. She’d excitedly eaten her breakfast and gone to her first class when the AIDA bell sounded. She had to focus on her real priority: her new career. It was the first day of what could be a thriving and lucrative life for Calista, and if she got on the team, she’d guarantee being unforgettable to the masses.

  Graduating from the academy would get her a job, but without the experience of the competition, the best she could do was become a regional coach that worked with small, unrecognized teams. That was not the future she hoped for.

  She took a look at the first few classes before the break.

  7:30 AM: PWU-CO Warm-Ups— Gymnasium 1D, Training Center

  8:00 AM: PC1-CO12 Combat— Gymnasium 1D, Training Center— Mathta, Usda; Stisin, Jenna; Somali, Julius

  9:00 AM: CT1-23 Weaponry— Classroom 108-VW, Versus Fighting School— Forforran, Jiles; Gowon, Taraji

  10:00 AM: CT1-46 Disciplines— Classroom 113-VW, Versus Fighting School—Sactha, Nila; Martínez, Gustavo

  11:00 AM: Break; Mess Hall is open for snacks

  Combat… so she had to change. She stopped at a Changing Station on the way out of the Recreation Hall, the jacket and skirt disappearing into looser, more comfortable clothing.

  Calista liked this uniform a lot more. A white T-shirt was below a blue jacket with red accents, the crest on the right. A pair of red tights with white lines running down the sides completed the set, loosely fanning around blue-and-red sneakers. The entire uniform was made for exercise, with breathable fabric and sweat absorbers.

  It was nicer-looking than the formal one, in her opinion, but it still needed some more… flair. She shrugged it off. She was here to fight, not design uniforms.

  Using the AIDA band, she followed the directions to the gymnasium. It was equipped with CDSims, combat mats, and a large HARP-ED screen— for educational purposes only. Everyone around them was either talking or doing basic stretches.

  Was she supposed to stretch? It was the best thing to do. If people saw her stretching and warming up, it would better their impression of her, right? Maybe someone could come and stretch with her.

  Calista went to a vacant corner and started stretching, copying other people around her. She then got down to do some push-ups. She’d managed to increase her limit to thirty push-ups, but she did need a break halfway through.

  She breathed rhythmically and tried not to cringe at the sweat building on her skin. Obviously, fighters had to put up with a lot of sweat. She’d get used to it. Her arms started to grow weary as she lifted her body up for one more push-up before her ‘break’.

  A foot suddenly slipped into her wrist, knocking her off-balance. She grunted as her face landed on the mat. She looked up, finding the Mercurian boy from the previous day smirking down at her. “Oops,” he said, stepping over her. “Sorry, girlie.”

  Calista sighed, ignoring the chuckling boys as she resumed her push-ups. When another shadow loomed over her, she flinched, falling down again. Her face burned with shame.

  “You good?”

  Calista looked up, finding a Mearthian girl standing over her. Her skin was a light cinnamon and she had shoulder-length brown hair. If it weren’t for her characteristically Martian eyes, she would’ve looked human.

  “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.” Calista rose to her knees and dusted herself off, her stomach turning again at the feeling of her damp skin. She was already craving a calming therapy bath.

  “You must be one of the 330. Welcome to Fistborn. I’m Belinda Adenifi.” She stuck out her hand.

  “Uh, Calista Medley.” She accepted the handshake. She was a bit shocked from the icy temperature of her skin at first. That was another characteristic of a Martian— or Mearthian. They were born cold-blooded, much like an Earthian reptile.

  “Congratulations on the acceptance,” Belinda said. “You want to finish warming up?”

  “Sure.” Calista’s spirits lifted. Finally, someone friendly! She knew the Socializers were wrong— not all fighters were rude and rough, like the rest of the class…

  Maybe it was a first-year thing. They all wanted to fit in. If Calista met more experienced students, she could potentially find someone nicer.

  “So… how do you like Fistborn so far?” Belinda asked her as she effortlessly did her push-ups.

  “I’m not… really sure… how I feel.” Calista panted in between. “It’s pretty overwhelming, to be honest.”

  “It always is. But don’t worry, you’ll catch on.” Belinda stopped mid-way, quirking a brow at Calista’s exhaustion. “You need a break?”

  “No, keep going.” She strained as she forced herself to pass her midway point. She had a bad feeling about this class. If she collapsed in front of everyone, she’d never find any respect.

  “Well, if you want to get on the team, you’ll want to step your game up in this class. There’s a Student Coach here.” Belinda nodded ahead of them.

  “A what?”

  “Student Coach.”

  “Student…”

  Belinda paused. “You mean you… don’t know what Student Coaches are? Didn’t they tell you during orientation?”

  “I don’t remember much,” Calista admitted, also pausing her workout.

  “Still, you haven’t heard of them, at least?”

  “Uh… not really.” Calista grew flustered. Clearly, this was something basic that any Versus Games fan would know. The term sounded familiar, but she’d basically locked all her memories of the Games away since her mother started training her.

  What would people here think of her if she didn’t even know something like this? What if they found out who she was before this? She was in a safe zone as of now, since no one here cared about Socializers, but just the fact that she was one at all…

  “Okay, well, Student Coaches are the ten best students in the academy,” Belinda said, resuming her warm-ups, now doing sit-ups. Calista quickly copied her. “We call them SCs for short. They take students that impress them under their wing to give them some extra coaching. Those are Guilds. If you get in a Guild, you have more chances of getting on the team. That man over there is St?sten ‘Grill’ Durchdenwald. Do you remember him?”

  As Calista lowered to the mat, her eyes rolled up to see a Mercearthian man, around 20 years old by human standards. He wore a different uniform; the track pants were a dark blue and the T-shirt was red rather than white. There were glowing yellow emblems on both his sleeves.

  “Uh, yeah… I remember his name,” she lied. She couldn’t let on that she knew almost nothing about the Games or the academy when it came to famous fighters and players. She only knew Lisa White because she was her idol back in the day, and Harrison Smith because he was handsome and she took the time to look him up. She should’ve been researching more about the Games instead of worrying about her mother and her self-absorbed fans.

  “Of course. The moment he literally grilled a fighter’s face in a Chaos Round was never forgotten. Good thing combat suits have helmets. St?sten’s the eighth best and he’s been an SC for about three years. He was one of Reilly’s Favorites. People underestimate him compared to the higher-ranked ones, but he’s still a good teacher.”

  “Durchdenwald, huh? His name sounds kind of… German,” Calista observed.

  “Oh, he’s descended from Germany on his Earthian side.”

  “So, three years? He’s a third-year?”

  “Third year one,” Belinda answered.

  “Third year one?” The human girl took a break.

  “Because one ‘year’ is four years in the Versus career. Like me, I’m a second-year one student, because my first year started last Versus. You’re a first-year one student, and next year, you’ll be a first-year two. You know what I mean?”

  “I’m starting to.”

  “ALL STUDENTS, LINE UP!”

  Everyone jumped at the command, getting into a straight line as fast as possible in no particular order. Calista’s back straightened and her forehead released a bit of perspiration. Three coaches marched into the gym, their faces wearing identical deadpans. Calista remembered only one of them from orientation the previous day— a Klausian woman with crystalline purple skin and sharp silvery eyes. The woman stepped forward, the light glistening against her crystal-like bald scalp.

  “Good morning, everyone. I would like to welcome our new Versus School students to the academy. For those of you that don’t remember, I am Coach Usda Mathta, and I will be one of your Combat and Weapon Use teachers. As is tradition, I assess each new student’s abilities by sparring with them first. Whoever started classes today, please step forward.”

  Glitch. She swallowed and obeyed, stepping forward with about ten other students. Coach Usda’s icy eyes roved over the line until stopping at the first student on the left— a doe-eyed Mercumartian man.

  “You. Come forward, please.”

  The man was confident as he strutted up, but Calista could see a bit of fear reflecting in his eyes. Klausians were not to be underestimated, even if he had Mercurian fire abilities to counter them. Klausians’ ice abilities were incredibly powerful, enough that they could rival Hajjians.

  “What fighting style do you think suits you?” Coach Usda asked him.

  “I’m partial to the Paeseoan Stabil discipline, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Very well. I will be using a Hajjian style called Jroak.”

  Calista’s throat dried. She only knew human disciplines. She never thought of learning disciplines from other planets. What if she expected her to use styles from Mars or somewhere?

  One by one, the new students sparred with Coach Usda. She would either tell them to stop or knock them down, pointing out every single one of their flaws. The other students seemed to enjoy this little initiation ritual, especially when Earthians or half-Earthians went up. For every student, the coach would use a different fighting style, all of them varying greatly. Probably to avoid predictability.

  Soon, it was Calista’s turn. She wiped her clammy hands on her pants as she approached the coach with a nervous smile.

  “What style do you prefer, Ms. Medley?” Coach Usda asked her.

  “Um…” She glanced nervously at the others. “I-I’m not sure, ma’am. I… I guess I just know most of the basics?”

  “Did you study any disciplines in particular while you were preparing for your fight with Ms. Houdge?”

  Her face turned red. “N-no… I just studied her strengths and weaknesses and prepared myself according to her style. I guess I know karate, maybe some boxing… sorta.”

  “Hmm.” She nodded. Calista wasn’t sure what it meant. The coach stepped back, getting into a strange fighting position; her feet were apart at shoulder length, her left foot forward, and her left hand was raised beside her head.

  “I will be utilizing a Klausian style called Tialet.”

  “O-okay.” Calista raised her fists and separated her feet.

  “3… 2… 1.” The coach dove forward and threw a swiping knifehand at her head. Reflexively, Calista ducked, her heart jumping into action. She dodged the next swing, blocked the third, but stumbled while dodging the fourth. In no time at all, Coach Usda had swiped her knifehand below her ankle and knocked her off balance.

  Determined to avoid further embarrassment, Calista rolled over when she was knocked down, instantly springing to her feet. The coach didn’t let her rest, following her attack up with a knifehand to the throat.

  She swiped the woman’s forearm to the side, deflecting her blow, and attempted to kick her in the stomach. Coach Usda blocked it with a knifehand, the impact stinging, and struck again, this time hitting Calista in the throat.

  The blow was soft, but it still packed enough force to make the girl choke. As her hands reflexively flew to her neck, she was knocked down again. The coach waited a few moments before helping her up.

  The students clapped, murmurs echoing among them. Calista could see some smirks flashed her way. She hid her face behind her high ponytail. At least she wasn’t the only one that glitched up, right? They made fun of the other new ones, too…

  “Your balance is a complete mess and you lack finesse. Your attacks are far too predictable and there were openings everywhere. I was even going easy on you.” The human girl’s face heated up, hearing snickers. “But it is our job to improve all of that,” the coach continued. “I expect you will do nothing more than give your absolute best. If you want to earn respect from your fellow teammates, you must prove you have the conviction and the determination of a Versus fighter. Do you?”

  She raised her emerald eyes this time, her face hardening. “Yes, ma’am,” she said seriously.

  “Then you best show it while we teach you, unless you want an embarrassing call sign.” The coach nodded at the line. “You may return.”

  She obeyed, taking her place next to Belinda, who smiled at her encouragingly. She wanted nothing more to crawl into a hole and shut herself out from the universe.

  “Now. We will start with our warm-ups. When the Combat period begins, we will proceed to the mats and rotate in pairs.”

  “You okay?” Belinda asked her as they began their stretches.

  “Yeah… sorta.”

  “Coach Usda’s always hard on us. We all did that when we first started here. Don’t take it to heart.”

  “Well, she’d have to be, right? I mean… a Klausian.”

  “Yeah, they tend to be tough with other species. People like that winding up living on Earth… they get pretty bitter. At least Coach Usda’s fair. She could be a lot worse.” She started stretching, though the positions looked weird— probably Martian styles. Calista decided to copy her, hiding the strain on her face.

  “So… what are Guilds? You mentioned those,” she said.

  “Guilds are groups led by the Student Coaches. When you join a Guild, you’re in that Guild for the rest of your time in the school.” She lifted her arm, showing a silver patch on her jacket sleeve. “This is mine. I’m in Guild Gamma and Delaine Evistroma’s my Student Coach. She’s the third best in the school— not to brag.” The patch had an upside-down L in the center, and surrounding it was:

  Gamma- Delaine Evistroma

  Belinda Adenifi, Guild 3

  “Nice flexibility,” Belinda said, noticing the perfect split Calista had achieved.

  “Thanks,” she replied. “So what do you guys do in a Guild?”

  “Guild members get an extra hour of training from the SC’s. They basically become our mentors,” Belinda explained. “We’re also more respected by the other students, so most don’t like to mess with us, but there are some that like to issue challenges to see if the SC’s are doing their job.” The two got down to do splits. “It’s kind of like extra credit. We also have a higher chance of getting their position— only if we get on the team and surpass them in the Versus, though. It’s fame for us, and proof of their worth as a coach for them.”

  Interesting. Maybe if Calista got in a Guild, people would be nicer to her? It could also give her some more friend-making opportunities.

  “To get into a Guild, you need to get the Student Coaches’ attention. Meaning, you need to do really well in your classes. That way, you show them you’re worth teaching. They can help you with any classes or fighting exercises you’re having trouble with.”

  Well, that would be a challenge. Calista doubted very much that she could make them want to teach her, at least in so little time. “God, there’s just so much to know. I feel like I’m in another world.” They stood from their splits. “Please tell me you’re in my next class.”

  “What is it?”

  Calista checked her schedule. “Weaponry.”

  “I’m sorry, I have Battle Tech. But I’ll walk you there. You’ll be fine. We can get together during Break and go over things if you want. I’ve always been excited about helping the newbies out.”

  “That’ll be uber-awesome. Thank you, Belinda,” the human girl sighed in relief. She almost felt like crying. Her support was something she desperately needed.

  “Miss Medley and Miss Adenifi.”

  The girls quickly silenced. “Yes, ma’am?” Belinda answered.

  “Please keep the conversations in your mouths until break,” Coach Usda said with a frown.

  “We’re sorry, ma’am.” They returned to warming up silently.