Entry into the school was not announced.
There was no applause.
There was no "welcome."
The nine remaining students were made to wait in a long, narrow corridor, lit by cold lights that cast no sharp shadows. A place designed to offer no shelter—neither physical nor mental.
Kael stood at the back of the group. Not because he was shy, but because from the front you see shoulders, and from behind you see intentions.
A boy in front of him whispered,
"In the end, we made it."
Kael didn't answer.
"Made it" was a dangerous phrase at Valencrest.
The doors slid open to the sides.
Before them opened an enormous atrium. Not luxurious, but designed to impress: high ceilings, polished floors, corridors branching out like veins.
And people.
So many people.
Students walked with confidence; others lowered their eyes as they passed. Some wore uniforms with different details: darker colors, more elaborate crests.
Different classes, Kael thought.
And they don't need to say it.
An instructor was waiting for them at the center of the atrium—the same one who had spoken at the end of the tests.
"Follow me," she said.
No one asked where.
They walked.
They passed the cafeteria. Kael immediately noticed the difference: some areas were separated by transparent walls. In one, students ate simple food. In the other, more refined trays, relaxed conversations.
A boy from the "better" section pointed at the group of nine and smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
One of the nine lowered his head.
Kael didn't.
He looked past him.
Reaction recorded, he thought.
Not mine.
They arrived in a circular hall.
On the walls, large glowing letters:
E – D – C – B – A – S
The instructor stopped.
"This is Valencrest," she said. "Not a school. A system."
She pointed to the letter E.
"You start here."
A boy burst out,
"After everything we went through?"
The instructor looked at him the way one looks at something fragile.
"Precisely because of that."
Silence.
"Every week," she continued, "your Total Merit Index will be updated.
You will rise or fall."
A hand went up.
"And if someone is good at everything?"
The instructor smiled faintly.
"Then they will be studied."
Kael lowered his gaze.
The bracelets were distributed.
They were not simple identifiers.
They were heavy.
"This records your performance," the instructor explained. "And your choices."
A boy asked,
"Even when we're not in class?"
"Especially then."
The Class E dormitory was worse than Kael expected.
Crowded rooms. Tight spaces. Constant noise.
A boy threw his bag onto a bed.
"This is a joke."
Kael chose the bed farthest from the entrance.
Fewer passersby. Fewer forced interactions.
Soon after, other students entered—some already residents of Class E.
One of them, older, sized them up.
"Fresh meat," he said. "Remember one thing: here it doesn't matter how good you are. What matters is who notices you."
Kael looked at him.
"And who notices you?" he asked.
The boy laughed.
"You'll find out."
In the afternoon came the first official activity.
Not a lesson.
Not training.
An assembly.
All the Class E students sat on tiered steps. Above them, on a balcony, students from Classes D and C watched.
Kael felt the weight of their gazes.
A Class D student spoke.
"Look at them. All convinced they'll rise."
Laughter.
Kael didn't react.
Those who laugh from above are afraid of falling, he thought.
Instructor Maera appeared.
"This is not a ceremony," she said. "It's a warning."
A panel lit up.
Names. Low scores. Penalties.
"These are the students who dropped a class last week."
A boy recognized a name.
"He was with us."
Maera nodded.
"He isn't anymore."
Heavy silence.
The school's first official trial followed.
A team simulation.
Simple objective: solve a logistical problem within a time limit.
Kael listened. He didn't speak.
One boy took command.
"I decide."
Kael didn't contradict him.
The plan was mediocre.
It worked—but left gaps.
When the system introduced an unexpected variable, the plan collapsed.
Points lost.
Glances.
"Why didn't anyone say anything?!" the improvised leader shouted.
Kael spoke, quietly:
"Because it wasn't my role."
Silence.
Maera took a note.
That evening, Kael sat alone.
A boy approached him.
"You don't seem angry."
Kael looked up.
"I am. But it's useless."
"Do you really think you'll stay in Class E?"
Kael considered for a moment.
"I think climbing too fast makes you fall."
The boy didn't understand.
And walked away.
Above, Arden watched the data.
"He's low," Maera said. "Too low."
Arden shook his head.
"He's where he wants to be."
Maera pressed her lips together.
"How long will it last?"
Arden looked at the screen, where Kael appeared as a stable line, almost flat.
"Until someone pushes him."
Kael turned off the light.
Class E, he thought.
The noise hides footsteps well.
And Valencrest truly began to move around him.
End of Episode 5.