Timeless Assassin

(Rodova Military Academy, Planet Rodova)

The transport capsule carrying Leo descended smoothly, its thrusters emitting a low hum as it approached the academy grounds.

With practiced precision, the vessel touched down, sending a faint tremor through the floor beneath Leo's feet. A mechanical chime followed, signaling the completion of the landing sequence.

A moment later, the capsule doors released with a pressurized hiss, sliding open to reveal the world beyond.

A rush of crisp air filtered in, carrying with it the cold of the environment.

Leo took a steady breath before stepping forward.

As he exited, the first thing that caught his attention was the sheer scale of the open grounds around him.

From the air, he could discern that the Rodova Military Academy was built like a fort, and was massive in size, however, it was only after landing that he realized just how massive it really was.

The training grounds stretched around him for as far as the eye could see, and although they felt vast and wide, they looked tiny in comparison to the academy walls that towered at a massive 150 feet in height.

The walls of the academy were made from reddish-black bricks and from the top of the walls hung massive black banners, each one adorned with bold, silver lettering that read: "Rodova Military Academy."

The banners swayed gently in the wind, their thick, reinforced fabric giving them an imposing presence rather than a decorative one.

They weren't made of any ordinary cloth, and even from a distance, Leo could tell that they were crafted from durable, high-quality material, resistant to both the elements and time itself.

The silver lettering on the banners gleamed under the morning sun, giving any onlooker the chills.

The environment of the academy screamed that this wasn't just a place of learning. It was a legacy.

And as Leo looked around, even he felt intimidated by the place's vibes and history.

A subtle chill ran down his spine, not from fear, but from the realization of what he had stepped into.

This academy was not just a school. It was a proving ground.

And only those worthy could graduate from this place at the end.

"Freshmen, this way—"

A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the morning air as a female military instructor stood at the front of the gathered recruits. Her posture was rigid, her expression unreadable as she gestured for the new students to follow.

Clutching his newly issued academy robes, uniform, and identity token, Leo fell in line with the others, his anxious eyes surveying the surroundings as he looked for any signal from his mysterious letter issuer that could give him a clue on how to regain his memories now that he was inside the academy.

Unfortunately however, there was no external contact made yet, forcing him to follow the others as normal.

The instructor wasted no time. As they passed various buildings, she spoke in clipped, efficient sentences, giving a rapid rundown of the academy's key facilities.

"This is the administration office," she stated, nodding toward a sleek, modern building lined with reinforced windows. "If you have any issues in your first few days—housing problems, uniform replacements, or paperwork—handle it here. However, don't expect handholding. This is a military institution, not a daycare."

Leo barely spared the office more than a glance, noting its location in-case he needed anything.

The group marched further along a paved road, their boots clacking against the stone as the instructor gestured toward a large, open structure with a domed ceiling.

"This is the orientation hall. You will all report here tomorrow at exactly 07:00 hours. Sharp. In uniform. If you're late, you may as well turn around and walk off campus, because you won't be setting foot in the testing hall."

Her voice carried the weight of absolute authority, and though she didn't raise her tone, the underlying threat in her words was crystal clear.

Leo took note. No margin for error. Noted.

They moved past another large building, this one distinctly different from the rest—wider, lower, and filled with the tantalizing scent of food.

"Mess hall," the instructor said plainly. "Three meals a day. The schedule is posted inside. If you miss a meal, that's your problem."

Leo caught a few recruits casting longing glances toward the building. He supposed some of them hadn't eaten in a while. He himself didn't feel particularly hungry, though he knew he'd have to refuel soon.

They continued deeper into the academy grounds, passing rows of identical dormitory buildings, each clearly designated for different student years.

"These are the third-year dorms. Don't disturb them, for they are the pride of this academy. "

They moved further.

"These are the second-year dorms. Steer clear of here unless you want to be bullied."

Finally, they reached the last row of buildings, positioned slightly apart from the others.

"These," the instructor said, stopping in her tracks, "are the first-year dormitories—where you lot will be staying."

She turned to face them, arms crossed over her chest.

"Find your names on the soft board by the entrance. It will list your assigned rooms. Don't bother complaining about your placements. They've been decided already."

Some recruits exchanged wary glances.

Then, as if sensing their concerns, the instructor added, "And before any of you ask—no, you will not be sharing rooms. Assassins live in private lodgings. We don't want you killing each other in your sleep."

Leo's brow twitched slightly at the bluntness of her statement, but he supposed it made sense.

"So be glad you'll all be living separately, enjoying private bathrooms, as individuals from the other professions will not enjoy this luxury and will be forced to share bathrooms with sweaty roommates. " she finished, her cold gaze sweeping across the recruits."If you have any last questions, I suggest you figure them out yourselves. Dismissed."

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode off, leaving the new students to their own devices.

However, as she passed Leo, she purposefully slowed, just for a fraction of a second—barely enough to be noticed.

Her sharp gaze flickered toward him, as the duo made the briefest of eye-contact before she continued walking as if nothing had happened.

Leo barely had time to process it before he felt something foreign pressed against his palm—a light but unmistakable texture, coarse yet flexible.

Paper.

His fingers curled around it instinctively before anyone else could notice. His eyes widening in surprise.

The instructor did not look back. She walked away without another word, leaving Leo standing among his peers with a silent mystery now resting in his grasp.