They called it Media Day like it was a holiday.
A chance for the public to "see the future of heroism." That's what the holoscreen announcement said, the morning it pinged across every cadet wristband at 0600 sharp.
Mandatory participation.Uniforms pressed.Hair styled.Smiles ready.
Rook Vale didn't blink when the notification came through.He just turned off the alert and got dressed in silence.
The press staging area was worse than he expected.
Two dozen floating drones buzzed through the main quad, their lenses glowing red like watchful insects. Rows of cadets were lined up shoulder to shoulder under the vaulted glass canopy, each being mic'd and briefed by bright-eyed handlers with polished clipboards and thin, fake grins.
"Say something authentic," one woman chirped as she adjusted a student's collar. "But heroic, okay? We want to inspire, not traumatize."
Rook stood near the far edge, hands clasped behind his back, watching the performance unfold.
Aya Sparks leaned against a stone pillar ten meters away, half-lit by morning sun, arms folded, eyes shaded beneath her lashes. She hadn't spoken to him since their last late-night talk — not because she was distant, but because she was watching. Evaluating. Waiting.
Tessa was closer.
She stood in the second press row, smiling gently as a reporter fixed her microphone. She laughed at something the woman said, a soft, real sound that didn't sound practiced. Then her eyes flicked to Rook.
And lingered.
One of the media techs approached him. "You're Rook Vale, right?"
"Yes."
"Top-ranked? Ghostblade? Stoic Cadet?"
He offered the faintest smile. "People call me things."
"Perfect," she said, already pushing him toward the platform. "Let's get your spotlight moment in while the lighting's clean."
They sat him in front of a floating mic rig, just off-center from the Zodiac Tower in the background.
Three cameras. One earpiece. Countdown timer blinking in soft green digits beside his foot.
He could see the production line: dozens of students behind him, waiting for their turn to smile and say how grateful they were to be chosen.
A man with a neatly trimmed beard and silver hero medallion stepped into frame.
"Cadet Vale," he said with theatrical warmth. "A lot of people are talking about you. Flashy wins. Quiet presence. What's your story?"
Rook tilted his head slightly, just enough to seem thoughtful.
"I'm not interested in being talked about," he said. "I'm here to serve."
The host's smile brightened. "And serve how?"
"To stand where no one else can," Rook said. "To take hits so others don't have to. To do what the job demands—even when no one's watching."
There it was. Scripted, but raw. Practiced, but not empty.
He delivered the lines like truths. Not because he believed them, but because he understood how they needed to sound.
The interviewer beamed.
"And where do you get that mindset, Cadet Vale?"
Rook looked directly into the camera.
"My father believed heroes should act, not talk. He didn't care about medals. He cared about people."
A beat of silence passed.
Rook continued, voice low, steady.
"I watched him give everything. So I'm here to give what's left."
The crew stared at him, briefly stunned. Even the handler forgot to signal the wrap.
He didn't blink.Didn't move.
Just let the silence sit like a tombstone.
Back in the crowd, Tessa swallowed hard.
It wasn't the speech. It wasn't the voice.
It was the look in his eyes. The quiet weight of it.
She didn't know what he'd lost.But she believed he'd lost everything.
Aya didn't look moved.
She looked sharper. Narrower.
She'd seen the crack under the mask — and she knew it wasn't grief.
It was calculation.
And it was working.
Later that evening, the interview clip hit the main hero broadcast stream. Within two hours, it had two million views.
"Stoic Cadet's Tribute Goes Viral.""New Favorite Emerges at Hero Academy.""Zodiac Leadership Comments on Rook Vale's Poise Under Pressure."
Leo himself issued a short quote to the press:
"Cadet Vale represents the very best of what the next generation will become." – Captain Virex
Hernan read it once, standing alone in the dorm washroom mirror.
He studied his own face. Blank. Calm.
The face of a hero.
A protector.
A killer.
That night, he updated the file.
Status: Public Standing – ElevatedPhase Two Visibility – ClearedCivillian Trust Level: HighPress Influence: ActivatedLeo Interest: Confirmed
Then he added a new line.
Begin trust acquisition: Tessa Rye.
Not manipulation.
Not yet.
Just proximity.
He would need people beside him when the knives came out.And it was always easier to cut a throat if the person trusted your hands.