Allen stepped into the cafeteria, his crimson eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. Hundreds of kids, all dressed identically, moved about in an orderly yet unspoken system. The moment he entered, the low hum of conversations dimmed as several heads turned toward him. General Xacsti gave him a hard shove forward.
"One hour before study. Treat everything like a test," Xacsti's cold voice cut through the silence before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Allen standing there.
Allen let out a slow breath, steadying himself. His sharp gaze quickly analyzed the room. The kids varied in age, though the oldest ones seemed no more than seventeen. He wasn't sure if that assumption was right, but it was his best guess for now. The cafeteria was massive, lined with long, metal tables, each one designated with a number ranging from 1 to 1000. It didn't take him long to realize that this numbering system wasn't random.
He glanced down at his own attire. The number 749 was emblazoned on his chest. A quick scan around the room confirmed his suspicion—everyone had a number, but some numbers were missing. The fraction present was significantly smaller than the total. Only about 1/8 of the numbers had corresponding students. His stomach tightened slightly. This place had reduced people to mere numbers. Names were irrelevant.
Shoving that thought aside, Allen made his way toward the middle of the cafeteria. His footsteps echoed against the metallic floor as he continued to observe. Near the front, he spotted a machine dispensing food trays, scanning each person's number before spitting out their meal. Those with lower numbers—closer to one—received noticeably better food than the rest.
Hierarchy.
So, numbers dictated status here. He needed to figure out what the ranking was based on. Strength? Intelligence? Obedience? He had too little information to go on, but what he did know was that 299—the highest number present—had a noticeably better meal than his own.
He picked up his tray and made his way to an empty seat, keeping his ears open to the murmured conversations around him. Some spoke in hushed voices, while others ate in complete silence. As he took his first bite, the bland taste of processed protein made him grimace slightly, but he forced himself to eat. He needed energy if he was going to make it through whatever training lay ahead.
Allen took the time to observe the subtle interactions between the students. Those with lower numbers sat in more isolated clusters, while those ranked higher commanded more space, sometimes even entire tables to themselves. The unspoken rules of this place were becoming clearer. Those with higher numbers were given more privileges, while those with lower numbers were treated with silent contempt or outright ignored.
His eyes locked onto a group near the front—four boys and one girl sitting at a table marked with numbers in the 200s range. They had slightly better meals, better posture, and most importantly, a quiet air of confidence. They weren't just sitting there; they were in control. A few students from the 600s and 700s hesitated before approaching their table, each presenting small offerings—extra portions, utensils, even napkins. The higher-ranked students accepted them without acknowledgment, a silent transaction taking place before Allen's eyes.
So that's how it worked.
Allen finished his food quickly, careful not to draw too much attention to himself. The last thing he needed was to become a target this early on. Instead of lingering, he made a calculated decision. He left the cafeteria early and headed for the library. General Xacsti had given him a map of where he was permitted to go, and the library stood out to him. Unlike the other kids, who likely focused solely on physical improvement, Allen knew the real weapon wasn't just muscle—it was knowledge.
The hallway leading to the library was eerily quiet, lined with dull gray walls and doors that likely led to classrooms or dormitories. He walked with purpose, memorizing the layout as he went. Every step mattered in a place like this. If escape ever became a possibility, he needed to know every inch of this facility.
When he arrived, the library was nearly empty. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books detailing subjects he didn't immediately recognize. He ran his fingers along the spines, pulling out a few volumes on warfare strategies and genetic engineering. As he flipped through the pages, his mind processed the information quickly, absorbing details that could help him understand where he was and how to use this knowledge to his advantage.
As he read, he became aware of a presence behind him. He turned slightly, his crimson eyes meeting those of a girl standing a few feet away. She had short, dark hair and sharp blue eyes that studied him with quiet curiosity.
"You're new," she stated, her voice low and even.
Allen remained silent for a moment before nodding. "749."
She smirked slightly. "520. You don't look like the others. Most of them try too hard to fit in. You… you're watching. Calculating."
Allen didn't respond. There was no point in giving away more than necessary.
520 tilted her head slightly before pulling a book from the shelf. "You should know that the numbers aren't just for show. They decide everything here. Your privileges, your training, even your punishments."
Allen had already figured as much, but hearing it confirmed was valuable. "And what determines the rankings?"
Her smirk widened. "Now that… you'll have to figure out yourself."
She walked away before he could ask more, leaving Allen standing there with more questions than answers.
Far away, in a dimly lit room filled with glowing monitors, a shadowed figure leaned back in his chair, watching the surveillance feed of the cafeteria. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he sipped a glass of dark wine.
"Interesting… very interesting," he mused, watching Allen's every move with a calculating gaze. "Let's see what you're capable of, Number 749."
A second voice, deeper and laced with amusement, responded from the shadows. "Do you think he'll last?"
The first man chuckled. "Oh, he'll last. The real question is… how far will he rise?"
The chapter would end here, leaving a lingering question—who was watching him, and why?