Extra's Ascent

"Finally! The ordained time is now upon us," Aldrich muttered with a mock-dramatic flair as he strolled down the long, echoing corridor. His steps were measured, but his mind raced with anticipation.

The grouping list had finally been released. He now knew which team he'd been assigned to and more importantly, who his teammates were.

All that remained was the final piece of the puzzle: the exam content. That was the real wildcard. Whatever twisted challenge the Eldora Institute had concocted, Aldrich was certain it wouldn't be anything straightforward.

This wasn't just a test. It was judgment day.

An unspoken decree hung over them all, one that determined who would rise, who would fall, and who would be discarded altogether. Promotions, demotions, and even dropouts could hinge on the outcome.

"No," Aldrich whispered to himself. "No space for negative thoughts. I just need to give it my all, nothing more, nothing less."

There was no time for fear or doubt. He was no slouch. He had earned his place as an S-ranked student, and it was high time he began thinking and acting like one. Especially now that the grouping had taken a dramatic turn.

Instead of separate exams tailored to the explosive capabilities of S-class elites, the school had thrown every rank into the same pool from E Class all the way up to S. The implication was clear: there would be no allowances made for ability or experience.

They were all expected to survive on the same battlefield.

'So they want chaos,' Aldrich thought grimly. 'They want to test if we can adapt in spite of inequality. Typical Eldora move.'

His thoughts swirled as he approached the door of the room where he would be meeting his team for the first time. They were to gather and assess their synergy to strategize, observe, and begin the difficult process of becoming something close to a unit.

"Alright," he muttered under his breath, pausing with his hand on the door handle. "Here goes nothing."

Meeting strangers never sat well with him. There was always that awkward transition of measuring personalities, adjusting tones, avoiding landmines. It was like walking a tightrope with no net.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Instantly, four sets of eyes locked onto him.

Silence.

He gave a polite nod and scanned the room. Three people were already seated in a semi-circle formation. That meant he was the last to arrive.

"Sorry for the interruption and for being late," he said, offering a diplomatic smile. "I got caught up with something. Please, continue."

He slipped into the nearest empty seat, folding into their presence with calculated ease. For now, he would take the observer's role. Listen first, speak later. Watch how they moved, how they interacted, how they reacted.

The introductions had already been made, but he quickly recalled the summary.

Dickins—B class.

Valeria—A class.

Opius—another B class.

That made Aldrich the only S Class student on the team.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though he kept his expression neutral.

'Is this a good mix?' he wondered.

Two B classes, one A, and himself. Not exactly ideal. But it wasn't terrible either, not until he saw how the other groups had been arranged. Without comparison, there was no way to judge whether his team was a liability or a hidden advantage.

"For starters," Aldrich said, breaking the silence, "I think it's wise if we go over our strengths and weaknesses. It'll help us understand how best to cover for each other."

It was a logical approach. The sooner they identified their capabilities and shortcomings, the better they could function as a cohesive team. But not everyone saw it that way.

"Are you trying to say we're weak?" came a sharp voice.

Dickins.

His tone was edged with hostility, a subtle challenge wrapped in wounded pride.

"No, I—

"Figures," Dickins interrupted, voice rising. "You S Class types are always the same. Acting like the rest of us are just here to amuse you. Like this school was built to worship at your feet."

Aldrich bit back his instinct to argue. Instead, he observed.

'Inferiority complex. Classic case,' he diagnosed internally.

Dickins wasn't responding to Aldrich's words. He was reacting to the very idea of Aldrich. The difference in class rank had already planted resentment in him, and that bitterness was now bubbling to the surface.

Left unchecked, this would fester. A grudge like that could fracture the team from the inside.

'That won't do.'

If they were going to survive whatever trial awaited them, there couldn't be any dead weight and emotional baggage counted as such.

Time to cut it off at the root.

"Do you have a problem with me?" Aldrich asked, his voice smooth, his posture relaxed. "Because if you do, I'm more than willing to settle it however you want."

The words landed like a spark on dry wood.

Dickins stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. Veins began to bulge across his temple. "Are you threatening me right now?"

"You tell me, Dickins," Aldrich replied, still seated, still calm. "Do you have a problem with me?"

That calmness, so effortless, so deliberate only aggravated Dickins further.

"Do I have a problem with you?" he barked. "You're damn right I do! You self-absorbed prick with your over-inflated ego! What, just because the school branded you as S rank, you think that makes you better than the rest of us?!"

There it was.

Confirmation.

But Aldrich didn't blink. His tone didn't waver.

"Isn't that how it works?" he replied, his voice cutting like a blade wrapped in velvet. "If you were better, you'd be in a higher class. But you're not. That's the difference. You may not like it, but that's the truth and it's time you stopped being blind to it."

His words were sharp, but not cruel. Brutal, but necessary. He wasn't attacking for sport, he was recalibrating a mindset.

Dickins clenched his fists, practically seething.

"You and I. The training facility. Now. Let's see who's really better."

"Uhm, guys, maybe we should—

Valeria tried to interject, her voice pleading for reason.

"Fine," Aldrich interrupted, not even looking at her.

Peace wasn't the answer. Not here. Not yet.

Suppressing the tension would only delay the inevitable. If Dickins kept bottling up his resentment, it would explode at the worst possible moment, probably during the exam itself.

This needed to be resolved man-to-man. Cleanly. Conclusively.

Aldrich would take caution not to make it a fight but as a therapy session.