Chapter 8 — Breakfast Before the Fire
——
6:02 AM.
The sun hadn't even bothered to show up yet, but Jackson Drake had.
He clapped his hands once—sharp and loud like a gunshot in a graveyard.
"Up! Let's go! I don't want Mr. Park kicking our door off the hinges and launching us through the windows."
No one moved.
He grabbed his towel and headed for the bathroom with the rigid precision of a man who'd slept through live fire.
The dorm remained half-draped in darkness, breathing slow and shallow.
Zhangwa lay twisted in her blanket, arms wrapped around her pillow like she was protecting sacred relics. Her leg twitched. She mumbled, "…pancake war…"
Mika sat upright at the edge of her bed, quietly rubbing her eyes. Not a word. Even her exhaustion looked composed.
Smiley hadn't budged. Just a faint rise and fall of breath on the top bunk. A soft snore. Possibly dead.
Kun, of course, was horizontal—barely conscious.
His hand fumbled for his phone, squinting against the light. He scrolled with lazy precision, eyes flicking across headlines.
"Comm said 8:00 AM, yeah?" he muttered to the room. "Still got time. Two hours… That's, like, a movie and a nap."
No response.
He kept scrolling.
"Category-2 CO spotted near Industrial Sector 8…"
"Admin confirms project EXILE isn't real—again…"
"Private Investigator still missing from Alpha's northern slums…"
Kun blinked. "…Meh. Conspiracy crap."
He locked the screen and rolled over.
Then—
"UGHHH! WHAT A DAY!"
Zhangwa erupted from her bed like she'd been shot from a cannon.
Mika startled slightly. Kun flinched hard enough to drop his phone.
Even Suho blinked.
Zhangwa stumbled upright with bed hair resembling a war crime and an expression that could bite drywall.
"It's TOO EARLY to EXIST!" she wailed. "WHERE'S MY DAMN TOOTHPASTE?!"
Kun groaned. "Check your locker. Or the vending machine. I think it sells dreams and depression now."
"I'LL KICK YOUR DREAMS!"
She dove into her locker like a caffeinated raccoon.
Smiley stirred. Just barely. His hand flopped out from the blanket like a dying fish.
"…five more hours…"
"Smiley," Suho said, deadpan.
A pause. The hand slowly retracted back under the blanket like a snail retreating from danger.
"…ten?"
"No."
A long groan. Then silence.
——
Zhangwa grabbed her shower kit with the force of a girl going to war.
"Move it, Mika! If I don't wash the crust outta my eyes in thirty seconds, someone's getting body-slammed!"
Mika, already standing with her towel and outfit in hand, gave her a cool glance. "No one's stopping you."
Together, the two girls disappeared into the female bathroom. The door shut behind them with a click and a muffled thunk—probably Zhangwa slamming her locker against the wall inside.
In the main dorm, silence returned—except for the soft groan of Smiley still wrapped like a burrito in his blanket cocoon. Kun and Suho stood nearby like unbooted androids awaiting a firmware update.
Then the bathroom door creaked open. Jackson emerged in full uniform, clean, calm, hair already dry. A man who somehow looked like he'd been awake since 4 AM doing squats with a smile.
He glanced around—and paused.
"...Bro. Are you serious?" Jackson deadpanned, staring at Kun still sprawled with bedhead and one sock halfway on.
Kun rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "Ugh… Yes, Dad."
He finally grabbed his towel and stumbled toward the male bathroom.
Smiley blinked open one eye—just barely—and, without a word, rolled out of bed with cartoonish slowness. Still half-asleep, he grabbed his towel and followed, somehow keeping pace with Kun and Suho like a shambling ghost.
Jackson exhaled.
"Finally."
Left alone in the room, he walked to the side of his bed, dropped down, and started doing pushups with calm, focused movements.
"One… two… Might even have time for breakfast."
——
Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened again—this time the girls returned.
Mika stepped out first, uniform crisp, hair damp but neatly brushed. Zhangwa followed with her jacket slung over her shoulder, humming what sounded like a war anthem remixed into bubblegum pop.
Mika walked to her locker and grabbed a brush, beginning the quiet ritual of taming her long violet strands. Her expression was neutral—focused.
Then Suho stepped out, calm and put-together as usual. Smiley wandered behind him, drying his face with his shirt, not the towel. Still barefoot. Still uncaring.
Mika walked to her locker and grabbed a brush, beginning the quiet ritual of taming her long violet strands. Her expression was neutral—composed.
Kun trailed behind her with towel-damp hair and a dazed look in his eyes. He passed her once, then slowed near his locker. His gaze drifted—just briefly—to her reflection in the mirror.
He wasn't leering. Just staring. Like someone seeing a painting and not realizing he was holding his breath.
"...She's... wow," he murmured under his breath, barely audible—even to himself.
It wasn't a line. It just slipped out.
In the mirror, Mika's eyes flicked upward. Not a full reaction—but a blink slower than usual, a pause in her brushing, like a signal briefly intercepted.
Then she resumed.
Without turning.
"Can you stop staring at me?" she said, voice cold enough to freeze lava.
Kun flinched. "Oh—I didn't mean—I mean, you're beautiful and—"
TWACK!
A pillow slammed into his face with pinpoint precision.
"HEADSHOT!" Zhangwa roared, grinning like she just landed a crit.
Kun stumbled. "HEY! What was that for?!"
Zhangwa grinned wider. "Your face was open. The shot was clean."
Suho zipped up his uniform behind them, sighing. "You two are gonna get arrested before orientation."
Mika resumed brushing, her expression unreadable—but in the mirror, Kun swore he caught the smallest flicker of something.
Not a smile. But maybe not annoyance either.
Just a flicker.
Smiley, now fully horizontal on the couch, raised a lazy hand. "Ten outta ten throw. Would get KO'd again."
Jackson clapped his hands. "Alright, let's move. Breakfast before your stomachs riot."
Zhangwa posed like a hero on a cereal box. "ONWARD, SQUAD THIRTEEN! TO BATTLE!"
Mika rolled her eyes. Kun adjusted his shirt. Suho tightened a strap on his bag. And Smiley... still hadn't moved.
And like that, the chaos marched on.
——
The hallway buzzed with uneven energy—rookies stumbling out of rooms half-dressed, clutching towels or boots. Some were sprinting like they'd overslept, others were still face-planted against their doors, too tired to move. Senior cadets passed in crisp uniforms, their steps sharp, expressions bored. Discipline etched into muscle.
Squad 13 moved in a loose formation. Not exactly a unit—more like a parade of personalities held together by bad sleep and shared breakfast cravings.
"Looks like we're early," Kun said, stretching his arms behind his head.
"Guess that makes us the nerds now."
"Uaaahhh…" Smiley yawned like a dying animal. "Or zombies. Either way, I want food and silence."
Zhangwa skipped ahead with alarming energy. "Y'all walk too slow! Come on! If we're last, all the good rice will be gone and I'll riot."
"You'd riot even if we were first," Suho muttered.
"I'm passionate."
"You're unstable."
"Same thing," she chirped.
They passed a pair of senior cadets standing near a vending machine. One looked up, sizing them with a casual glance.
"Fresh meat," he muttered to his friend.
Kun smirked, not slowing his pace. "Guess that makes us the deluxe cut."
Jackson chuckled low. "Keep walking."
Mika said nothing, but her eyes scanned the corridor like a sniper—reading movement, exits, other squads forming up. Always calculating. Always silent.
"Yo, how big is this place anyway?" Kun asked. "Feels like a whole city crammed into one damn school."
"It kind of is," Suho replied. "Military facility, academy, R&D, housing… it's a vertical nation."
"More like a vertical prison," Smiley mumbled.
They passed another squad—Squad 9 maybe—already lined up by the elevator, their uniforms pressed, their posture perfect. One guy had a sword taller than Kun strapped to his back.
Zhangwa stared. "That's gotta be compensating for something."
"Zhangwa," Mika said flatly.
"What? I said what I said."
As they turned the final corner toward the cafeteria, Kun leaned in toward Suho. "Hey… what are the odds the food here doesn't taste like punishment?"
Suho shrugged. "We're in the military. Optimism is banned."
Smiley raised a hand like he was answering in class. "If it moves, don't eat it. If it doesn't, be suspicious."
Jackson just sighed. "You'll eat what's given. And you'll like it."
Kun grinned. "No promises."
And with that, Squad 13 reached the entrance of the cafeteria—doors wide open, the scent of food wafting out like steam from a battlefield.
Whatever awaited inside, one thing was clear.
Breakfast would not be peaceful.
——
As they entered the cafeteria, a quiet hum filled the air. Seniors in clean uniforms were already seated in neat rows, chatting casually over trays of synth-food. The place was bright—too bright—and smelled vaguely like reheated nutrition cubes and industrial sanitizer.
Not many rookies were around yet. Maybe two tables at most.
"Seems like we're the only rookies here," Kun muttered, adjusting his shirt collar and glancing around.
"Kinda early," Suho replied, scanning the space with calm eyes.
They shuffled into line at the cafeteria counter. A humanoid AI greeted them in a static-choked monotone:
"Take your plate. Eat nutritional food. Bzzt. Grow stronger, or die trying. Bzzt."
"Comforting," Kun muttered. "Definitely not ominous at all."
Ahead, a senior cadet in full gear barked, "Line up properly! No pushing, no skipping. You think hunger makes you special?"
Smiley, still half-asleep behind them, mumbled, "It kinda does…"
Each squad member took a tray—bland protein blocks, nutrient paste scoops, something vaguely green that might've been a vegetable once, and a carton labeled "Liquid Energy A+."
Zhangwa poked hers with a fork. "This looks like depression in food form."
"Eat it or die, rookie," the serving bot added helpfully from behind the counter.
They found a table near the center of the hall. Just as they sat down—
"Miss Mika!"
Haruto's voice rang out, crisp and polite. The boy from earlier strode toward their table, posture immaculate, a second tray in hand.
Mika paused, turning with that same calm composure. The rest of Squad 13 kept walking, sliding into their seats while Mika lingered with Haruto.
Kun watched. Carefully.
Haruto spoke in low tones, gesturing gently toward Mika's tray like he was offering a royal feast. She smiled—soft, brief—and said something back, too quiet to hear.
Kun sat, tray untouched, still staring.
"They're lovers, right?" he asked bluntly.
Zhangwa, already sipping her mystery juice, raised an eyebrow. "You're jealous."
"Hell no," Kun snapped, shoving a protein square into his mouth. "I've known her for like two days. What am I, a rom-com protagonist?"
Suho looked up from his tray, tone neutral. "You did stare at her for five full seconds this morning."
"I was admiring her precision. She folds clothes like a damn military drone."
"Uh huh," Zhangwa smirked.
Mika returned a moment later, her tray now stacked with the same questionable food as theirs. She sat down beside Suho, calm and unreadable.
"I bet ten bucks that guy's your boyfriend," Kun said between chews.
Mika blinked, genuinely confused. "Huh?"
"Don't mind him," Zhangwa chimed in cheerfully. "He's just emotionally unstable."
"We're just friends," Mika said flatly, cutting into her protein with robotic grace. "He's… persistent."
Jackson's brow twitched as he watched Haruto's sharp, militaristic movements. The guy's gait was precise—controlled, like every step had been trained into him. "He walks like he's on patrol," Jackson thought, biting into his protein bar. "Or like he's casing the squad." Not hostile. But definitely... territorial.
Across the table, Suho didn't say a word—but his gaze flicked once toward Kun. Not a judgment. Not even a tease. Just a soft, neutral glance.
Kun didn't notice.
Still watching Mika.
Suho exhaled silently and went back to eating.
Smiley, who had somehow balanced his head on one arm while still eating, added, "If she wanted him, she'd have already added him to the squad. She didn't. End of lore."
Kun glanced at Mika again. She didn't look back, didn't comment—just ate in silence.
But her hand twitched, just slightly. A micro-expression.
Suho noticed.
Zhangwa leaned back and sighed. "First day and we already have cafeteria drama. Beautiful."
Kun raised his carton. "To awkward mornings and radioactive breakfast."
Everyone tapped their drinks.
Smiley missed and tapped Kun's shoulder instead.
——
After a while, the table quieted—just the occasional clink of spoons and the low murmur of distant conversations.
Zhangwa poked at a slice of synth-meat on her plate. "I wonder how Counterside looks..."
Suho looked up, mid-bite. "You mean the dimension?"
"Yeah," she replied, twirling her fork. "Like... is it all ghostly and creepy? Or is it just a weird-ass version of this place with everything upside down?"
Kun snorted. "So like your room."
"Shut up."
Suho set down his spoon, brushing hair from his eyes. "I read somewhere it's a mirror of our world. Same layout. Same districts. Just... broken. Infected. Like the reflection rotted instead of shining."
Zhangwa leaned back in her chair. "Damn. That sounds cool as hell. Like spooky dystopia meets apocalyptic vacation spot."
Smiley interrupted without lifting his head from the table. "You guys still believe internet lore? Come on... next you'll say there's a Counter Bigfoot."
"There is a Category-3 anomaly shaped like a gorilla," Jackson added dryly.
"See?" Smiley waved vaguely. "Proof."
Kun raised an eyebrow. "Bet he vapes."
"Probably," Suho muttered.
Mika, who had been silently sipping her juice, finally chimed in. "The Academy briefing notes say the environment shifts based on corruption levels. Higher instability zones bend gravity. Time perception, too."
Zhangwa blinked. "...Wait, are you serious? So like... time-traveling falling simulator death rooms?!"
"Essentially," Mika replied, deadpan.
Zhangwa grinned. "Oh, I so wanna go now."
Kun side-eyed her. "You really are a gremlin."
Before she could retort—
BZZT.
The intercom buzzed overhead like a warning siren before a storm.
"ATTENTION TO ALL ROOKIES. PLEASE GATHER IN THE MAIN HALL. SQUAD INDUCTION CEREMONY WILL BEGIN SHORTLY."
A beat passed.
"Guess you were right, Jackson," Kun muttered, shoveling the last bite into his mouth.
Jackson was already standing, arms crossed. "Let's move before we get yelled at."
Suho wiped his mouth and slung his jacket over one arm. "Squad Thirteen's first death: cafeteria tardiness."
"Let's roll, Squad 13!" Zhangwa declared, pointing dramatically toward the exit like they were storming a battlefield.
Smiley didn't move.
"Smiley," Mika said without looking at him.
He groaned, stood slowly, and grabbed his tray with the energy of a dying battery. "This squad's gonna be the death of me…"
Kun just laughed.
And with that, they left their first meal as a squad behind—stepping out into the next phase of chaos together.