The dining hall of the Eastern Military Academy breathed like a living machine. The sound of cutlery clattering against aluminum mingled with the smell of warm bread and disinfectant. Every student moved in sync, like the gears of a flawless routine — chew, swallow, stand, repeat.
Dark, leaning against the glass wall overlooking the courtyard, laughed to himself, mocking everything and everyone. He ran a hand over his crotch and showed it to Theo in a rude, provocative gesture. Theo merely raised the corner of his mouth — a contemptuous smile that said more than any words could.
Ana, a few tables away, looked at Daime, yawning.
— You're an idiot. — She stuck out her tongue before laughing.
Daime merely shook his head, smiling.
— Grow up, Ana.
Ceres entered the dining hall in silence, tray in hand, her expression closed off. She walked toward an empty table, isolated, as always. She didn't want to look at Theo — not even from a distance. It was her way of existing: protecting herself by pretending not to care. Daime noticed and laughed.
— Resting-bitch-face. — he muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, Gris and Kan were talking about the alliance, ignoring the world around them. To them, nothing existed beyond political logic and numbers.
Dru appeared out of nowhere. She slipped between the tables and sat beside Dark with a crooked smile.
— Morning, warrior. — she whispered, passing a small package beneath the table.
Dark took the package without looking. Dru pretended affection; he pretended to believe it. Between them, lying was the most natural language. She sold anything that could deceive time: buttons, pills, relics, memories. Mother Ceres loved her for it — because every illusion sold was another cell feeding the body of order.
Daime crossed the hall and sat down across from Theo, who was eating in silence.
— So, man — he said, resting his elbows on the table — what did those guys want yesterday? The Silencers took you and Dark, and today you both look like you slept together. Two animals! You should've been wrestling each other, not taking a nap. Did you kiss? Sleep in a chicken-wing position? I thought I'd be the first man to sleep with you!
Theo let out a dry laugh.
— Good, man, you gotta laugh — Daime continued, laughing along. — It's way too calm around here. And you know what they say: peace is just an accident.
Theo lowered his eyes.
— The body they found yesterday... it isn't Tycho's.
Daime blinked, surprised. Then he broke into a wide grin.
— I knew it! That bastard is fucking badass. He knew the survival manual from cover to cover. He's alive, I can feel it. My gut says so.
Theo looked at him curiously.
— And your legs?
Daime laughed, leaning back.
— Funny guy. Almost laughed. But speaking of that... I've got something to tell you.
Theo raised an eyebrow.
— Shoot.
— It's good news, brother — Daime replied, lowering his voice. — Big stuff. The kind of thing that changes everything.
The sound of cutlery once again dominated the room, the murmur of voices dissolving like smoke. Everything at the academy seemed to follow an invisible script, and no one realized that freedom was already lying on the table — open, dissected, studied.
The autopsy was underway.
And everyone there was the body.
Daime leaned over the table, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
— Last night I went to take a massive shit...
Theo raised an eyebrow.
— Dude, are you seriously telling me that?
They both burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves. Daime tried to continue, but his own laughter betrayed him.
— Let the man speak, it's serious! — he said between laughs.
Theo shook his head, refusing, but he was still laughing. Their laughter echoed through the dining hall, drawing curious looks. Ceres, on the other side, raised her head for a moment, intrigued by what was so funny.
— Just kidding — Daime said, hiding his laughter. — I only said that to get Ceres's attention.
Theo burst out laughing again.
— You're an idiot, man.
Daime laughed too, trying to catch his breath. But then he returned to a more serious tone — the kind of seriousness nobody took seriously.
— Last night I went to take a massive shit...
Theo nearly spit out his coffee.
— You already said that!
They both started laughing again, laughing at themselves, laughing at the repetition.
Daime wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and continued:
— But seriously. I ran to the bathroom, took a shit, man. Best feeling in the world.
Theo rested his head on his hand.
— I don't know how I still listen to you.
— Wait, I'm not finished. — Daime slapped the tabletop. — When I came out, I realized I was running... without my crutches.
Theo stared at him, stunned.
— Daime... you're not using your crutches!
They both stood up almost at the same time. The hug came naturally, tight and genuine. A moment of truth in the middle of the military routine.
— Man — Daime said, his voice breaking — that hug got me emotional. If I ever have to choose a guy to sleep with, it's you, okay?
Theo laughed, pushing his friend by the shoulders.
— Seriously?
— Of course not, fuck no! — Daime shot back, laughing. — I'd rather spend my dick on Ana!
They both laughed loudly once again, the kind of laughter the system couldn't control.
And for a few seconds, between discipline and destiny, there was only that: two boys laughing at their own humanity, before Mother Ceres reminded them of the price of freedom.
Ceres watched from a distance, the glass of milk still in her hand. She pretended not to care, but her eyes remained fixed on the two of them. Theo laughed with Daime in a way she had never seen before — light, almost childish. It irritated her.
“Idiots,” she thought, bringing the glass to her lips without drinking. Their laughter still echoed. She turned her face away, but felt her chest tighten — not from love, but from an unease she couldn't name.
Ana, who noticed everything, nudged Daime with her elbow when he returned to the table.
— You two looked like you were in love, you know?
— Jealousy — Daime replied, winking. — Male love is purer. No commitment, no headaches.
Ana rolled her eyes.
— Oh, yeah... until the day the man gets you pregnant.
Theo, who had heard from a distance, let out another short laugh. Ceres looked away again.
The dining hall gradually emptied, trays being stacked, the sound of cutlery fading away. But the light mood left by that conversation remained — a brief truce between Ceres's austere walls.
And yet, Mother is always watching.
Theo felt her gaze before he even noticed it. A shiver ran up the back of his neck. His laughter stopped. He looked around — only the metallic reflection of the windows and the cold breeze coming through the ventilation ducts.
Ceres was walking down the corridor when their eyes met. No words. Only that silence that seemed to carry a promise — or a sentence.
Theo thought about calling her, but he knew it would be pointless. She was the kind of person who fed on her own distance.
“One day,” he thought. “One day, maybe she'll understand.”
But he didn't understand either.
Theo found her in the inner courtyard, sitting on a concrete bench beneath the shadow of the watchtowers. Ceres was looking at the ground, her eyes fixed on nothing.
— Ceres... — he called.
She didn't answer. Only the distant sound of the irrigation machines.
— I know why you've been keeping your distance — he said, approaching her. — But I didn't come to argue. I just want to understand.
Ceres took a deep breath, tense.
— What do you want to understand? You only come looking for me when you need something.
Theo fell silent. She was right. Still, he stayed.
— Then tell me — he insisted. — What do you feel?
Ceres raised her eyes, and for a moment it seemed like she was going to say something. But no voice came. Only a slight tremor in her lips.
— You don't know how to answer? — Theo asked softly.
— I... don't know — she murmured, looking away. — When you show up, it feels like everything inside me collapses. And I hate it.
Theo stepped closer.
— I'm confused by the aggression, by the way you act... I don't know how to deal with you, Ceres.
She raised her hands as if defending herself from something invisible.
— Then stay away.
— But I can't — he replied, almost in a whisper. — I can't read minds, but every time I look at you... it feels like it hurts.
Ceres's eyes wavered. There was anger, but also fear.
— Hurts?
— It hurts — Theo said. — And it's not fear or guilt. It's like... even the good in me hurts you.
Ceres fell silent, her lips trembling.
— Maybe it does hurt — she said. — Because you remind me that I still feel.
Theo tried to touch her, but she stepped back. A moment later, tears began to fall — quick, restrained, as if she were trying to hide them even from herself.
— Peace is an accident, Theo — she said, turning away. — And I don't want to survive another one.
Ceres ran away, leaving him standing there, the distant sound of the machines filling the emptiness she had left behind.
Ceres crossed the corridor like someone fleeing a minefield. Every step was an attempt to regain control, to erase what Theo had awakened inside her.
She entered the empty laboratory, slammed the door shut, and took a deep breath.
The metallic mirror on the workbench reflected her face — tearful eyes, uneven breathing.
She stared at her reflection as though it were the enemy.
— You cried — she said quietly through clenched teeth. — You cried in front of him.
The words sounded like an accusation.
She placed her hands on the workbench, gripping the cold metal until her knuckles turned white.
— I swear... — she murmured. — I swear he'll pay for this.
But the moment she said it, she realized the contradiction.
Pay for what? For making her feel? For looking at her as if he understood her?
Her heart answered before reason could: yes.
Ceres took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. She smoothed her hair, wiped her face, straightened her uniform. The mirror once again showed a neutral, impassive image.
The woman of Ceres, the commander, was back.
The girl from before, the one who had cried in front of him, had been extinguished.
Or at least, that was what she needed to believe.
Outside, the distant sound of Theo training echoed through the courtyard — the sharp rhythm of his footsteps, his focus.
Ceres clenched her fists.
— Keep smiling, Theo... — she whispered. — Keep thinking that peace is an accident.
And she left, determined to transform what she felt into something she could control: strategy.
That morning, the sharp sound of rotors tore through the sky above Ceres.
The students stopped during their break. The ground trembled beneath the weight of the armored vehicles. Through the window, columns of tanks could be seen advancing, all marked with the Ceres emblem. Never before had such a military presence been seen at the academy.
The helicopters hovered like metallic vultures, and the wind from their rotors carried dust, fear, and... relief. Relief because they were theirs — they belonged to Ceres.
The Silencers positioned themselves throughout the courtyard. The scene looked like a siege.
From one of the tanks descended Amos — the diplomat, the figure who rarely appeared outside the Central Tower. Beside him stood a silver-haired woman, with a serene face and an inhuman gaze: Koee Nahin, the living goddess of Ceres.
A murmur spread among the students. No one knew what she was doing there.
— Is that really her...? — Ana whispered.
— It can't be... — Gris replied.
— It is — Kan said quietly, without taking his eyes off the window.
Their presence made the chaos dissolve into silence. The students were pushed back into their classrooms. The sound of water pumps and tractors mixed with the distant hum of the still-spinning rotors.
In the main classroom, everyone was there: Theo, Ceres, Dark, Kan, Gris, Ana, Daime, Vanks, Cors, and Dru. Everyone except Cora, who at that moment was in the biology lab, bent over flowers and microscopes, absorbed in what she loved most — life.
The air in the room was heavy. No one dared speak.
Theo stared out the window, uneasy.
Dark bit his fingernail, laughing nervously to himself.
The sound of boots approaching echoed through the corridor.
When the door opened, Amos appeared in the doorway — immaculate, hard-faced, with a cutting gaze.
— Theo — he said, without beating around the bush. — Come with me.
Theo stood without hesitation. The silence became absolute. Amos turned and walked away.
The moment the door closed, Dark shouted:
— They're gonna fuck Theo's ass!
The room exploded with nervous laughter.
— What about yours, Dark? Already nice and relaxed? — Daime shot back, making everyone laugh even harder.
The teacher slammed his hand on the desk.
— Silence!
But even he couldn't hide his faint smile. Dark merely shrugged and let out a short laugh, without a hint of guilt.
The helicopter outside rose again, making the window panes vibrate.
Theo walked down the corridors beside Amos, not knowing whether he was being taken to a conversation... or a trial.
The academy corridor seemed endless. Amos's boots struck the floor with a military rhythm, and Theo followed two steps behind, feeling the echo of that sound reverberate inside his chest.
The man ahead walked rigidly, without looking back, and Theo sensed something restrained in him, a hidden weariness — not physical, but moral.
Babysitter to brats..., Amos thought. Of all the positions I've ever held, this is the most humiliating. Me, who once sat at tables with heads of state, now babysitting teenagers who haven't even become men yet. All of them with their little arrogances, thinking the world ends at the academy walls.
He sighed without breaking stride.
After the second invasion and the kidnapping of the students, my life became hell. Surveillance, reports, speeches to contain panic. And now this: bringing Koee Nahin here — as if this place were worthy of her presence. Mother Ceres has gone mad, or she's testing me.
Theo continued in silence, watching the soldiers' immaculate uniforms in the courtyard. Helicopters flew low overhead. The sound of the rotors made the window glass vibrate, and the air smelled of fuel and rain.
When they reached the dining hall, it was deserted. The tables were clean, the trays collected, cold lights reflecting off the polished floor.
In the center of the hall stood Koee Nahin, alone, like an apparition. Her white hair fell over her shoulders, and her light uniform contrasted with the steel surrounding her. She looked at Theo and smiled — a smile that seemed to understand more than it said.
— I said I wanted to see your school — she said softly, almost playfully.
Amos nodded impassively.
— The boy is all yours — he said before turning his back and disappearing down the corridor, leaving behind the dry sound of his boots and the cold scent of discipline.
Theo remained still for a moment, trying to understand why she was there. Then he approached.
Silence. Only the distant hum of helicopters.
— But that was yesterday — Theo said, confused. — I thought you didn't even want to see our school.
Koee shrugged, her smile growing slightly.
— Well, you thought that. I want to see your school.
Theo raised an eyebrow and gave a faint laugh — that cynical, tired laugh of his.
— Then I'll show you my school. But... do you have time for that?
For a second, silence took over.
The sound of the rotors vibrated through the ceiling again, the windows trembled, and the two exchanged a brief glance — laughing at the involuntary irony of the situation.
Mother Ceres had moved entire armies...
...just so Koee Nahin could be there.
Koee looked around, her eyes shining at the austere architecture.
— Your school is huge — she said, with a touch of fascination. — I saw it from the courtyard... that gigantic flagpole with the Ceres flag.
Theo smiled, proud and tired at the same time.
— We sing and swear our allegiance to Mother Ceres every morning. We do it here, in the dining hall... and this is also where we have our fights.
Koee laughed, amused.
— Fights?
— Nobody fights on an empty stomach — Theo replied ironically. — Arguments at the table bring trust and truth. No one stays away from Mother at the table.
— Mother Ceres is powerful... — she said, observing the reverence in his voice.
Theo gestured for her to follow.
— Come with me. I'll show you the classrooms, the auditoriums, the reception area. Lucky for us, we have a class in the main auditorium today. The topic: The Autopsy of Freedom.
They walked through the academy's long, cold corridors, passing metal doors and windows overlooking the empty courtyard.
— The Autopsy of Freedom? — Koee repeated, raising an eyebrow. — Indoctrination?
Theo laughed from the corner of his mouth.
— You have to destroy ideas to create new ones. You study at the Tower, don't you?
— I do. A lot. Living in the Tower can be boring sometimes, but it has a huge library and some magistrates who give me intensive lessons.
She hesitated, thinking before continuing:
— I was taught things in Arcadia... but they were outdated.
Theo nodded, unable to hide his admiration.
— The Tower is fantastic. I'm glad you're being taught there. Everything you learn there is also taught here. The quality is the same.
Koee smiled.
— Yes, I'm learning quickly.
They both arrived at the Flagball field, an enormous synthetic-grass field surrounded by fences and observation towers.
There was no one there. The perimeter was clear. In the sky, the sound of helicopters had ceased. Only the distant noise of water pumps and tractors remained.
Koee looked at the field in silence for a moment, took a deep breath, and said:
— So this is where it happened... where you trained. And defeated the Arcadians.
Theo looked at her, intrigued.
— But you're...
She finished the sentence for him.
— Arcadian? Yes. But with Ceres ideas. Inigualável.
She paused and looked toward the horizon.
— In Ceres, I exist.
Theo felt a quiet discomfort.
— What happened to you during that game? You were destroying us. And besides, women aren't allowed to play Flagball. How can someone with that much strength... suddenly become weak?
Koee looked away, a faint blush rising to her face.
— It's because you... disarmed me.
Her voice came out low, embarrassed.
Theo frowned, not understanding.
— Me?
— In Arcadia — she began, looking at the ground — I lived inside a cocoon. I was treated like a slave, a weapon against Ceres. I was always afraid. I acted out of fear. And I turned that fear into strength.
Theo stepped closer, his voice gentle:
— If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay.
— No, I want to — she replied. — Keeping it inside only makes my pain worse. Besides... you can't read minds, right?
Theo looked at her curiously.
— You can?
Koee smiled faintly.
— Yes. Want to see?
— I do. — He straightened, excited. — Show me.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them with a mischievous glint.
— I already know what you're thinking.
Theo became serious, concentrating.
Koee laughed.
— You're thinking about Flagball. Did I get it?
Theo huffed and looked away, trying to hide his smile.
— You're impossible.
— Or just too human — she shot back playfully. — Mocking people is a human instinct, isn't it?
They both laughed, and for a few seconds silence settled between them again.
A light silence, almost intimate.
Theo raised his eyes toward the sky. Koee followed his gaze.
Above the clouds, a metallic structure gleamed in the sunlight — Ceres 2, motionless, colossal, watching them like a divine eye.
The two remained there, side by side, saying nothing.
It was impossible not to feel that, even while laughing, they were being watched.
Koee gazed at the sky, the pale reflection of Ceres 2 projected in her red eyes.
— I know your brother is up there — she said, her voice calm, almost devotional.
Theo remained silent for a moment, never taking his eyes off the station.
— I'm proud of him — he finally replied.
Koee smiled. Their eyes met. The contrast between his deep brown eyes and her translucent red ones created a suspended moment — as if time itself had pulled back to watch.
Theo broke the silence, uncertain.
— Shall we go to the swimming pool?
She nodded, and they walked side by side through the cold corridors toward the large gymnasium.
The space was empty and clean, the echo of their footsteps reverberating against the glass walls.
Koee looked around, enchanted.
— I've seen the impressive numbers of the girl Ceres... — she said, approaching the edge of the pool. — She's incredible... and beautiful. I love her eyes.
Theo looked away, Ceres's name hitting him like a cold shock. Comparing them was inevitable — Koee, the breeze; Ceres, the storm.
One made him breathe.
The other made him burn.
Koee turned toward him, unaware of the turmoil she was causing.
— She seems fearless. Do you know her?
Theo took a deep breath.
— Yes. — A pause. — She's excellent. Incredible.
Koee smiled, satisfied with his answer, suspecting nothing. She walked toward the center of the gymnasium and watched the reflection of the still water.
— I can't swim — she confessed. — But I can hold my breath for fifteen minutes.
Theo laughed, genuinely surprised.
— Fifteen minutes? Then you're a goddess.
The compliment escaped before he could control it.
They looked at each other, embarrassed. Koee lowered her gaze; Theo tried to hide it, but ended up smiling.
He cleared his throat.
— Want to see the training field?
Koee shook her head, still smiling.
— No need. I only came here to see the school... and see you.
The silence that followed was deeper than the sound of the still water.
Theo didn't answer — he simply watched her reflection in the pool, pale and serene like a memory that had not happened yet.
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