The Central Authority Bureau was a tomb of silence at night—all steel corridors, layered security, and glass-walled conference rooms that overlooked a city that had long since stopped trusting itself.
Inside Conference Room 7, three senior officials sat across from a fourth figure. This man was neither political nor military; he stood by the window with his hands clasaded behind his back, his eyes unnervingly still.
"Public sentiment?" one official inquired.
"Volatile," another answered. "Aurora Covenant's statement has already shifted public sympathy toward the idea of independent mentorship."
A third official adjusted his tablet. "If we allow these decentralized power narratives to take hold, the fragmentation of our authority will only accelerate."
The silence that followed was heavy. Then, the man by the window spoke for the first time. "You require structure." His voice was clinical, devoid of heat.
One official nodded. "We require hierarchy."
The man turned slightly, his profile sharp against the glass. "And legitimacy."
"Yes."
The first official tapped the table, finalizing the thought. "Introduce the Appraiser."
The room grew quiet as the man's gaze shifted toward them. "My Authority does not judge morality," he stated evenly. "It quantifies scale."
"That is enough," the official replied. "Can you ensure consistency?"
"I measure output density, stability variance, cognitive expansion, and projection potential. The rankings will be reproducible."
Another official leaned forward, sensing the shift in momentum. "Then we create a threshold."
"A threshold creates compliance," the first added. "And it isolates those who fall below it."
The man did not react to the cold logic. "You will use Elias Verdan," he said. It wasn't a question.
The official nodded once. "He is the only confirmed SS within the Regulated Order. And he is stable."
"Yes," the Appraiser turned fully now. "Then he becomes the benchmark."
__
The following evening, the broadcast interrupted every major channel. In Aurora's headquarters, Mira groaned at the screen. "They really do love their dramatic timing."
"Quiet," Garrick muttered.
The seal of the Central Authority Bureau rotated onto the screen, replaced by a row of officials standing behind a podium. Members of the Regulated Order stood like statues behind them. Lucien's eyes narrowed. "They're anchoring this in state legitimacy."
The lead official began his address. "In response to growing public concern regarding the instability of awakened Authority, the Bureau is officially introducing the Authority Classification System."
The camera cut to a reinforced chamber where Elias Verdan stood. A faint silver shimmer danced around him—contained, measured, and under total control.
The Appraiser entered the chamber. He was precise and utterly unreadable. "Begin," he commanded.
Elias inhaled deeply. Silver threads radiated outward from his form, and the air at the edges of the chamber seemed to warp and bend under the pressure. Digital overlays flickered across the broadcast:
Energy Density
Cognitive Amplification
Stability Index
Projection Potential
The numbers climbed—steady and controlled, without a hint of volatility. Seris leaned forward, her eyes on the metrics. "He's disciplined."
"Yes," Kaida agreed.
The silver field compressed, focusing into a dense point of power. The Appraiser's voice cut cleanly through the audio feed. "Rank: SS."
Back in Aurora's building, silence fell. A banner flashed across the screen:
SS CLASSIFICATION CONFIRMED – ELIAS VERDAN (REGULATED ORDER)
The official stepped back to the podium. "An SS classification represents approximately one in one million awakening potential."
Mira blinked, stunned. "...One in one million?"
Orion nodded faintly. "Extraordinary rarity."
The official continued smoothly, delivering the blow. "To ensure structural integrity among independent collectives, any guild seeking formal registration must possess at least one S-ranked awakened."
There it was—the true objective.
Garrick crossed his arms. "They're building a gate."
"Yes," Nox said quietly.
Lucien's expression didn't shift. "They're narrowing the entry."
On-screen, the analysts were already singing their praises. "Objective metrics reduce chaos." "Hierarchy builds public trust." "The Regulated Order sets the standard."
The public comments scrolled by in a blur: THIS MAKES SENSE. WE NEED QUALIFIED LEADERS. IF YOU CAN'T MATCH SS, DON'T LEAD.
Kaida exhaled softly. "The sentiment is aligning."
Orion checked his engagement metrics. "Fear always prefers structure."
Lucien reached out and muted the broadcast. In the lingering silence, Mira looked at him. "So."
Lucien folded his arms over his chest. "They expect us to hesitate."
Garrick's jaw tightened. "And if we don't qualify?"
"They deny the registration," Seris said quietly.
Nox's gaze sharpened. "They assume we won't."
Lucien glanced sideways at him, and for a fleeting moment, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Good." He turned back to face the team, his eyes steadying with a new fire. "They wanted measurement? Let's give them one."
__
Back inside Conference Room 7, one official watched the muted stream of the Aurora team replaying on a secondary monitor. "They'll submit," he predicted.
"Or they'll dissolve," another replied.
The Appraiser stood near the door, his expression unchanged. "Metrics do not lie," he said.
The official smiled faintly as he closed the Aurora Covenant file. "No. But interpretation does."