Chapter 89| Real Cases Never Make Broadcasts

Chapter 89: Chapter 89| Real Cases Never Make Broadcasts

’So Nyx is the play,’ Zane thought.

’Now I just need a reason to talk to her that doesn’t feel manufactured,’ he thought.

The system surfaced.

『 You already have one. She told you to make her a priority when you were ready to explain the mechanism. The NSA assessment is two weeks out. That is a genuine reason to find her. 』

Zane thought about that.

’The NSA assessment,’ he thought. ’She’s been tracking it. She mentioned it in the corridor. If I go to her about it. Not deflecting this time, actually engaging that’s real. That’s not manufactured.’

’That’s step one,’ he thought.

『 The system approves. Strategic familiarity building through genuine interaction is more efficient than passive accumulation. 』

He got up and headed toward the cafeteria.

By the time he arrived it was 8:15 AM. The place was relatively scanty — most students already rushing toward their first sessions, the Monday morning urgency clearing the cafeteria faster than any other day of the week. The food line was shorter than usual. The tables were mostly empty.

He grabbed a quick snack and a fruit juice, diluted it at the dispenser, ate standing at the counter without sitting down. Under four minutes with utmost efficiency.

Then headed toward class.

He arrived at Classroom 1-A at exactly 8:20 AM.

Zane slid into his seat. Maren was already beside him in their new arrangement. The Monday morning session started with Vael at the front running what looked like Sigil application theory with practical focus, the kind of session that required actual attention.

He gave it actual attention.

Vael was talking about hero news consumption — how important it was for students at this stage to be actively watching it. Not passively. Actively.

"Approximately 80% of what gets broadcast," she said, "is curated for public consumption. Lesser threat incidents. Contained situations. Things the NSA has already classified as resolved before the cameras arrive." She looked across the room. "The real life threatening cases, the ones that actually test what a hero is built for, most of those never make the broadcast. The public doesn’t see them. You will."

She let that sit for a moment.

"And for context on what that means practically," she said. "Globally — approximately 3% of active heroes die each year. Every year. That number doesn’t make the news either."

The room was quiet.

Zane looked at the front of the room.

’3%,’ he thought. ’Every year. Globally.’

’Garrett Calloway was in that 3%,’ he thought. ’Harbor Collapse. Incomplete NSA intelligence.’

He filed that under things that hadn’t finished being relevant yet and kept his eyes forward.

Zane glanced left between sections of Vael’s explanation. Ryan was two rows over, completely invested in whatever Vael was covering, leaning slightly forward, pen moving across his notebook with the specific focused energy of someone who took this seriously when nobody was watching.

’Didn’t know he could be this focused,’ Zane thought. ’Interesting.’

Maren slid her notebook slightly toward him.

He looked at it.

She’d written one line in the margin beside Vael’s current point.

You moved differently in the pushup competition. That wasn’t just training improvement. What changed.

He looked at it.

’She’s been watching my training output and connecting it to what she saw in the pushup competition,’ he thought. ’She’s building a picture.’

He took his pen.

Wrote back.

Trying to get used to my Sigil. That’s all.

She read it.

Looked at him briefly.

Then wrote back.

You’ve been saying that since week one.

He wrote back.

Still accurate.

She looked at it. Then at the front of the room. The corner of her mouth doing the thing.

Vael’s session continued.

Zane took notes with one hand and thought about Nyx Hale and third slots and B-rank acquisition with the other half of his brain.

The system ticked quietly in the background.

『 Aura range active. B-rank Sigils within passive detection range: 4. 』

『 Ryan Castellan — Pressure Wave — deciphering complete. 』

『 Cole Brennan — Titan Fist — deciphering complete. 』

『 Wren Hale — Iron Skin — deciphering in progress. 』

『 Dario Marsh — Earth Manipulation — deciphering complete. 』

『 Remaining B-rank targets outside current range: Reeves Dash — Flashstep — Trace Carter — Gravity Manipulation. 』

『 Note: Target — Nyx Hale — Class 1-B. Not present. Proximity requires deliberate repositioning after class. 』

Zane looked at the passive detections running in the corner of his vision.

’Six B-ranks in the same room and I’m sitting here taking notes,’ he thought. ’The aura range doing its work whether I act on it or not.’

’But none of them are Nyx,’ he thought. ’After class might just find her.’

The session ended at 10:00 AM.

Students filing out. The corridor picking up with the break energy.

Zane packed his notebook and looked two rows left.

Ryan was already standing. Bag over shoulder. Moving toward the door with the focused efficiency of someone who had somewhere to be.

Zane stood up.

"Ryan," he said.

Ryan stopped. Turned.

Looked at him with the expression that had been recalibrating since the notebook corridor.

"What do you want Calloway," he said.

Zane looked at him.

"Nothing," he said. "Just love the new hairstyle."

Ryan stared at him.

"Freak," he said. "That’s why you don’t have a girl."

Zane looked at him.

’Bold statement,’ he thought. ’From someone who doesn’t know what happened yesterday.’

"Sure," Zane said.

Ryan held his gaze for one more second.

Then he turned and walked out shaking his head slightly.

Zane stood in the emptying classroom.

Maren appeared beside him.

"What was that about," she said.

"Just Complimented his hair," Zane said.

She looked at him.

Then at the door Ryan had gone through.

Then back at Zane.

"His hair," she said flatly.

"His hair," Zane confirmed.

She stared at him for a long moment.

"Dumbass," she said. Warm version.

"Bye," she said. "See you later, I’ve got something to do."

She picked up her bag and walked out.

He watched her go.

’She said dumbass,’ he thought. Throwing a small smile.

He picked up his bag and followed her out.