Officer Tamsin knocked once on the metal door before stepping in.
A strong coffee smell filled the office. Chief Warden Harrex Vale sat behind his desk, sipping from a heavy black mug.
"Report from the second test, sir," Tamsin said, holding out the tablet.
"Mm-hmm," Vale muttered, grabbing the tablet with one hand while still sipping his coffee like the report could wait.
His eyes scanned the report casually—until they hit the fifth line.
SPIT.
Coffee exploded from his mouth in a violent spray, hitting Tamsin square in the face.
"Five?!" Vale barked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Five S-grades? Are you joking?!"
Tamsin blinked, wiping coffee off his face with a deadpan expression. "I was going to ease you into it."
"Ease me into it? You hand me this kind of miracle and open with a 'report from the second test'?!" Vale stood, slamming the mug onto his desk. "You should've led with fireworks!"
Tamsin sighed. "To be fair, I didn't believe it either. We ran recalibrations on the scanner twice. Techs checked every node and every line of data. The machine's fine."
Vale stared at the screen again, his eyes gleaming now. "Five S-grade late awakeners from the Outer Ward… awakened inside the Shatterveil…"
"Seems like Ivara's intuition was on the spot." He chuckled—then grinned like a man who had just seen a ladder dropped from heaven.
"Pardon?" Tamsin asked, confused.
But Vale didn't answer. He was already lost in thought, pacing with his hands behind his back.
Then his eyes narrowed as he read the report again.
"What's this?" he tapped the tablet. "High Anomaly tags—Raith and Elisa Neris?"
"Yes, sir. That's… complicated."
"Explain."
Tamsin stood straighter. "The scanner stalled on both of them. The light beam took longer, and when the grades came up, the letter S blinked."
"What's the problem with that?"
"Actually, everyone believed the system didn't know how to process it," Tansim replied.
"You're saying the scanner hesitated." Vale's grin grew sharper. "Like it was trying to read more than it could register?"
"Exactly."
The Chief Warden leaned back into his chair, tapping the edge of the desk.
"Mark them," he said quietly. "Mark all five."
"Are you sure?"
Vale looked out the narrow window of his office toward the Drill Yard.
"Of course I am and I want you to carry out the next orders of mine."
***
The sun started to lean westward when Camp 70's newly recruited Tuners were still held at the Drill Yard.
Everyone's feet ached.
Kev's stomach growled so loudly it startled someone nearby.
"Pretty sure my stomach's trying to kill me," Kev said, holding his gut. "Like, I think it's starting a rebellion."
"They better be preparing some kind of feast after this," Dane muttered in a joking tone.
"Or at least give us chairs," Mira added.
Elisa, as always, said nothing.
A few Tuners were asking what they were waiting for, especially those who came from the Great Families. But the officers offered no answers.
They just stood guard, watching. No instructions. No explanations.
The truth was, right before the officer in charge announced the end of the test, he had received orders from Instructor Tansim to hold everyone in the yard.
Two whole hours of standing around, sitting on cracked pavement, and trading nervous glances.
Then, finally—
"You're dismissed."
Everyone blinked.
That was it? They thought that another pop-up test was coming.
Still, they shuffled back toward the hall in quiet confusion.
Until they saw it. Someone up front actually gasped.
"What the…?"
The inside of Camp 70 had changed. Completely.
Gone were the grim metal walls and flickering overheads. The halls now gleamed with fresh paint—muted blues and clean whites.
The lighting was soft and even. And warmth—actual warmth—rolled through the vents.
The place didn't look like an Outer Region facility anymore.
It looked… livable.
Their barracks had been transformed. Raith walked into the male quarters and just stared.
Better beds. Thicker mattresses. Clean drawers. New lockers. Overhead lights that didn't buzz like dying insects.
Kev touched a bunk and looked genuinely emotional. "This is love. This is heaven."
Raith chuckled. "You say that about food, too."
"This is better than food," Kev whispered. "This is a mattress with dreams built in."
Dane kicked off his boots and dropped into the bed. "I'm not moving until the next apocalypse."
Raith sat on his own bunk, still taking it in. "Why would they upgrade all this now?"
Dane shrugged. "Maybe they saw the test results and think that we're worth nurturing."
"No way this is just about us," Kev said but he was happy if it was really about them. "This whole place just got a facelift."
A moment later, a voice buzzed through the hallway speakers.
"All Tuners of Camp 70, report to the dining hall in fifteen minutes. All Tuners. This is mandatory."
Kev stared at the ceiling. "Well. There goes nap time."
Raith stood up. "Let's hurry up before you fall asleep."
Dane chuckled. "Yup. The test is easier than waking you up."
***
The dining hall had once looked like a storage shed with chairs. Now, it looked like a military banquet hall. A high-class one.
Clean lines. Reinforced tables. A proper mess area with warm lights. The steel walls had been polished and painted, and the overhead vents actually worked.
At the far end sat Chief Warden Harrex Vale and fourteen other uniformed officers. None of them looked like they were here for the food.
Raith's group sat together in the middle. Not by choice. The others left them space—either in respect, fear, or envy. Or maybe all three.
Eyes followed them. Whispers rippled through the room.
"That's them."
"The S-ranks."
"Five from the Outer Wards… can't be coincidence."
"Think they're getting transferred to another camp?"
Kev leaned closer to Raith. "We're the main course tonight. Just letting you know."
Raith didn't respond. He kept his eyes forward as he could feel a familiar presence from one of the fourteen officers.
But he had no time to properly entertain that feeling as the Chief Warden, Harrex Vale, finally rose from his seat at the head table.
The dining hall went still.
The Chief Warden didn't need to raise his voice. His presence alone quieted the room.
"I won't take much of your time," he said, tone steady but clear. "I'm not here to welcome you. I'm here to recognize what today means—for all of us."
He glanced down at the tablet in front of him, letting the moment stretch.
"I know many of you are still wondering why the upgrades, why the sudden attention. I'll answer that now."
He turned the tablet toward the audience—not that they could see the details, but the gesture was deliberate.
"This morning, Camp 70 completed its standard Force Adaptability and Force Potential tests. The results were… unexpected. Five S-grade Tuners."
A ripple of murmurs moved through the room again, even from the officers who'd heard the numbers before. It was different hearing it confirmed by the Chief Warden himself.
"And for the rest of you," he continued, "Don't worry, I value each and every one of you equally because we need to move forward as one unit."
He let that linger before stepping away from his table and walking forward slightly, stopping near the long row of tables where the newly recruited Tuners sat.
"As of this moment, you're no longer simply 'new awakeners.' You are now officially recognized as Cadets of Haven Bastion."
The word landed heavily. Cadets.
Not late awakeners. Not test cases. Cadets.
The lowest rank in the Haven Bastion Military System—but a rank nonetheless.
They got an identity and a place in the system.
This was definitely a new start.
"You've earned it," Vale added, scanning the crowd—not lingering on Raith or Mira or Elisa, though it was clear they were the reason for everything that had changed. "I expect you to live up to it."
He returned to his seat without another word. No long speech. No ceremony. But the message was clear.
"Let the feast begin!"
Trolleys loaded with trays of steaming food and chilled drinks rolled into the hall, pushed by uniformed staff. The scent hit first—meats, spiced rice, hot soups, even desserts.
At this moment, everyone forgot where they were and who they used to be.
This was really a feast.
Dishes they hadn't seen since before their awakening—or ever—were being placed on every table. Grilled cuts, stacked bread rolls, fruit preserved in syrup, bottles of clean water, and even juice.
Kev's jaw dropped. "Are we still in the Outer Region? Or did we get promoted and no one told us?"
Raith didn't answer. He was too busy staring at a bowl of actual meat stew—real meat, not protein paste.
No one reached out at first. They just stared. Then, as if a silent signal passed through the crowd, the Cadets dug in.
Raith didn't speak much, but you could tell he noticed. The glances. The whispers. The odd tension between admiration and suspicion floated through the hall.
Next to him, Kev leaned in, mouth half-full. "Okay, but seriously—that speech? That felt like the beginning of a war epic or something."
"Or a warning," Dane muttered.
No one laughed.
Raith kept his eyes forward, studying the man at the head table.
The Chief Warden was definitely not someone ordinary.