The Aurora shuttle was quiet.
Not silent.
That would have been impossible with Adrian Alejandro Torres onboard.
But quieter than the docks.
The moment the shuttle lifted from Platform Seven and Helius Prime began shrinking beneath them, the younger cadets gradually settled into something calmer than panic and slightly more dangerous than excitement.
Anticipation.
The massive Aurora Fleet transport moved smoothly through the evening sky while city lights stretched below in glittering rivers of gold and white. Deep-blue floor lighting reflected softly across polished silver walls while reinforced panoramic windows curved along both sides of the cabin.
Everything about the shuttle felt expensive.
Not decorative expensive.
Military expensive.
The kind built by people who expected their ships to survive wars.
Unfortunately—
nothing built by humanity could fully protect a cabin from Torres.
"…A FEW DAYS," Torres announced dramatically from the center aisle like he was personally addressing the Federation Senate. "A FEW DAYS at the Benton Estate."
Little Bean stood beside him clutching the stuffed shark against his chest with equal emotional intensity.
"A FEW DAYS," he echoed reverently.
Camille Mercier finally looked up from her datapad.
"If you say that one more time, I'm opening the hatch."
Torres pointed immediately.
"YOU WOULDN'T."
"I absolutely would."
"That feels aggressive."
"You're loud."
"That's not illegal."
"It should be."
The younger cadets burst into laughter again while the shuttle glided steadily through layered flight lanes above the Capital.
Far below, Helius Prime slowly disappeared behind clouds and distance.
The mood inside the cabin felt lighter now.
Still nervous.
Still overwhelmed.
But lighter.
The inquiry was over.
The Federation backed down.
And for the first time in days—
nobody onboard this shuttle was actively preparing for battle.
That alone changed the atmosphere.
Viktor Hale kept changing seats every few minutes trying to see out every possible window angle.
The Miller twins argued loudly about shuttle stabilizer systems.
Valerie Walsh adjusted the silver academy pin at her collar for the fifteenth time while Ophelia Vale watched her with growing exhaustion.
"You already fixed it."
"What if it's crooked?"
"It's symmetrical."
"…what if rich people can tell?"
Ophelia stared at her.
"How would rich people evolve pin-detection powers?"
"I DON'T KNOW HOW OLD MONEY WORKS."
Camille looked up calmly.
"Fear. The answer is fear."
Even Jun looked one sentence away from smiling.
Near the front rows, Hana Sato quietly reviewed the updated arrival schedule Major Volkov had forwarded earlier while Jun Park sat beside her silently observing everyone unravel around him with the same calm focus he usually used during tactical exercises.
Except now his eyes occasionally drifted toward the windows too.
Even Jun looked curious.
That was how serious this was.
Tomas Ibarra had fully cornered Mei Tanaka two rows ahead.
"…so the propulsion ratio compensates during altitude transitions?"
"Yes."
"And the stabilization field?"
"Yes."
"And the—"
"Yes."
"You didn't even let me finish."
"I already know the question."
Tomas looked emotionally fulfilled by this answer.
Aria leaned across two seats nearby watching the younger cadets spiral with open amusement.
"They're acting like they're visiting royalty."
"We basically are," Lysander Forest answered immediately.
"That's not helping."
"It's true."
"It's emotionally damaging."
"That's also true."
Further back, Octavian Vale sat with his crew while trying very hard to maintain noble composure.
Trying.
And failing.
Brax Iron leaned across the aisle dramatically.
"So how rich are the Bentons exactly?"
Rafe Mercier looked up from his drink.
"You know House Mercier owns trade routes across half the Federation?"
"Yes."
"We still call the Bentons expensive."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then Velen Kross slowly lowered his datapad.
"…that can't be real."
"Oh, it's real," Aria answered immediately.
Valerie looked increasingly distressed.
"…what if there are assigned forks?"
Camille stared at her.
"…assigned forks."
"Wealthy people do weird things!"
"That's fair," Ethan Walsh admitted.
"THANK YOU."
Torres immediately pointed toward Valerie.
"She understands the danger."
"That is not reassuring," Hana muttered.
The Cracks were unraveling at varying speeds too.
Ren Sato sat beside Hana trying very hard to appear emotionally stable while secretly asking Jun quiet questions every three minutes. Rita Brown remained near the window silently observing the passing skyline below. Marty Paulson had somehow started calculating "social survivability percentages" under his breath again. Cynthia Tate calmly reviewed etiquette protocols on her datapad like she was preparing for psychological warfare.
And Little Bean—
Little Bean had become fully attached to Torres at this point.
Spiritually.
Emotionally.
Possibly legally.
"…what if the villa has butlers," Little Bean whispered nervously.
Torres froze.
The entire aisle slowly looked toward him.
Because somehow—
that possibility had never occurred to him.
"…oh my god," Torres whispered back.
Little Bean looked horrified.
"…what if they judge us?"
"WE'RE TOO POOR FOR THIS CONVERSATION."
"ADRIAN," Lucian sighed.
Torres pointed dramatically.
"You grew up with money. You don't understand the fear."
"That is not how fear works."
"IT IS NOW."
The shuttle dissolved into laughter again.
Outside the windows, the Capital skyline slowly faded behind them while the evening sky deepened into dark blue. Far below, lights threaded through mountain ranges like glowing veins across the landscape.
Then additional aircraft began appearing through the surrounding flight sectors.
The younger cadets noticed almost immediately.
A sleek black-and-gold transport crossed several kilometers beneath them escorted by two smaller defense craft.
House Mercier.
Farther above, elegant silver-white vessels descended through layered cloud cover.
Valerius.
Then darker military escort ships carrying old Forest insignias.
Another formation followed several minutes later.
Heavy Federation military transports.
No academy markings.
Senior command.
The cabin atmosphere shifted subtly again.
Because now the younger cadets understood something important.
Tonight wasn't just family dinner.
Something larger was gathering.
Not that they understood Hope's Isle.
Not that anyone explained the political meetings or elder discussions waiting beyond the estate.
But instinct still existed.
And instinct recognized power.
Viktor stared out the window quietly.
"…that's a lot of important people heading the same direction."
"Yes," Mei answered calmly.
"It is."
The younger cadets exchanged glances.
Nobody pushed further.
Not because they weren't curious.
Because Helius Prime taught them when not to ask questions.
Especially around fleet movements.
Especially around senior command.
That restraint settled naturally over the cabin afterward.
Not tense.
Disciplined.
The same cultural respect drilled into every Helius cadet from the first day they arrived at the academy.
Even Torres lowered his volume slightly after that.
Slightly.
Meanwhile Valerie continued spiraling spiritually.
"…what if I accidentally insult someone important?"
Camille looked over calmly.
"Torres exists."
The entire shuttle immediately turned toward Torres.
Torres looked offended.
"WHY AM I THE STANDARD?"
"Because statistically, you survive social disasters somehow," Ethan answered honestly.
"That's actually true," Marty muttered nearby.
Torres looked deeply emotional suddenly.
"…I inspire people."
"You terrify people," Aria corrected.
"BOTH ARE LEADERSHIP."
The shuttle erupted again.
Near the back rows, Seraphine Forest quietly watched the younger cadets unravel while Natalie Valerius gently fixed Valerie's sleeve again before the younger girl noticed it herself.
"You're fidgeting."
"I'm panicking."
"That's fair."
"…what if I accidentally call someone sir incorrectly?"
Camille looked over.
"You survived Volkov."
"That doesn't feel comforting."
"It shouldn't."
Meanwhile Tomas had migrated toward Mei again with dangerous curiosity.
"So theoretically, if the villa has underground training halls—"
"You're still thinking about hidden infrastructure."
"Yes."
"That's concerning."
"I want to see the engineering."
"You want to dismantle the engineering."
"That too."
Jun quietly spoke for the first time in almost twenty minutes.
"…you all realize this is still someone's home."
The shuttle paused slightly at that.
Because he was right.
Underneath all the rumors.
Underneath the panic.
Underneath the Great House insanity—
this was still Kael's home.
Somewhere he grew up.
Somewhere his family lived.
Somewhere that shaped the person who could stand inside collapsing battlefields and still decide who needed saving first.
The thought softened the cabin.
For several quiet seconds.
Then Torres ruined it immediately.
"…do you think they have rich people snacks?"
The softness died instantly.
Camille physically threw a pillow at him.
"You are unbelievable."
"I ASK IMPORTANT QUESTIONS."
Little Bean caught the pillow instead.
"…what qualifies as a rich snack?"
Torres looked him dead in the eyes.
"…tiny desserts."
The younger cadets gasped.
Valerie looked devastated instantly.
"…I love tiny desserts."
"WE'RE NOT READY."
Outside the shuttle windows, the landscape slowly began changing. The Capital lights disappeared behind mountain ranges while forests spread beneath them in dark endless stretches broken only by illuminated roads and scattered transport routes.
Then—
the first lights appeared ahead.
Soft.
Golden.
Hidden among the mountains.
The laughter faded first.
Then the arguments.
Then Torres' dramatic breathing.
For the first time since boarding—
the Aurora shuttle went completely quiet.