Chapter 8 The golden goose

Words : 992 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

The room buzzed with low conversations as students began turning to one another, some pairing off immediately, others hesitating as they scanned the crowd. Kelvin nudged Noah. "Alright, easy choice. You and me—done." Noah nodded. "Obviously. But we're gonna need more than just brawn. We need someone sharp." Kelvin rubbed his chin, his gaze sweeping the room. "Lila, maybe? She's quiet, but people say she's smart. Plus I think she got the best score in the written assessment?" Noah glanced toward the wiry girl tightening her gloves with deliberate precision. She moved with a calm efficiency, her sharp eyes darting from group to group. It was impossible to ignore her figure, though. The black bodysuit clung to her curves, the reinforced material straining across her chest. She adjusted the straps over her shoulders, muttering under her breath as the suit groaned against her ample bust. It seemed like the designers hadn't considered this level of ...fleshy generosity in their sizing charts. "She's a thinker," Noah agreed, forcing himself to focus. "But is she a fighter?" "We've got the fighting covered," Kelvin pointed out. "What we need is someone who can keep us from walking into traps." "Fair." Noah called out to Lila, who looked up, her expression guarded. "Lila, we're putting together a team. You in?" She hesitated for a bit before nodding. "As long as you don't expect me to play babysitter." Kelvin grinned. "Deal." "That's three," Noah said. "Now we need someone... unpredictable."@@@@ Kelvin raised an eyebrow. "Unpredictable? Isn't that a bad thing?" "No," Noah said, scanning the room again. "Someone who doesn't play by the book. Keeps opponents guessing. Remember Miss Brooks made this as much of a competition as it was survival. We have to come out on top!" Kelvin nodded, agreeing with Noah. Lila on the otherhand looked at them both and smiled, perhaps wondering why they were in over their heads but with that much confidence in themselves. Noah's gaze landed on a girl sitting near the edge of the room. Her name was Cora. She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, exuding a lazy confidence that bordered on arrogance. Her petite frame was deceptive; she was small and wiry, with lean muscle evident in the way her toned arms rested casually over the chair's edge. Her short, choppy hair was packed in an efficient bun, with streaks of black hair framing her sharp, mischievous face. And then there was him. Noah caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a passing window. His suit clung tightly to his lean but muscular frame, the reinforced plates emphasizing his broad shoulders and wiry strength. He ran a hand through his dark, messy hair, trying to fight the nagging voice that said he might not be ready for this. 'I look the part,' he thought. 'Now I just have to prove I can play it.' As they approached the large open space of the base, Noah's thoughts were interrupted by the noise outside. The space was a hive of activity, with aircraft landing and taking off with less than shy jet engines roaring. One ship had just touched down, its sleek, angular design glinting under the harsh lights of the hangar. Miss Brooks was heading straight for it, her stride purposeful. Noah's gaze lingered on the aircraft for a moment before he noticed movement from the opposite side of the field. A group was approaching—a single line of students walking with perfect synchronization. Their matching suits were spotless, the faint glow of their gear brighter, more polished. "Class 1-A," Lila murmured, her voice tight. Noah didn't need an introduction. The way they moved said everything. At the front of the line wasn't a student but their homeroom teacher—a man with sharp, angular features and a composed presence that felt both effortless and deliberate. His deep-set eyes scanned the field, taking in every detail with clinical precision. Noah noticed the briefest flicker of acknowledgment between him and Miss Brooks. A subtle nod. Neither spoke, but the charged silence that passed between them said more than words ever could. It wasn't hostility, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. "Great," Cora muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "The golden kids are here to remind us how average we are." "They don't look so tough," Kelvin said, his voice steady, though Noah caught the slight tension in his jaw. Noah's attention shifted back to the Class 1-A teacher. He moved with an almost predatory grace, his calm demeanor amplifying the quiet authority that trailed behind him like a shadow. The students following in perfect formation seemed more like an extension of his will than individuals. 'He's good, no question about it,' Noah thought. 'But Miss Brooks doesn't take orders from anyone. Whatever this...thing is between them, she's not backing down,' Miss Brooks, for her part, didn't break stride or even glance back again. Instead, her voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Eyes front. You're not here to compare yourself to them. You're here to win." The words hit Noah like a slap. He straightened his posture, his unease replaced with a renewed sense of purpose. Whatever rivalry existed between Miss Brooks and the other teacher wasn't his to question. But even as they approached the aircraft, he couldn't help but notice the subtle way the Class 1-A teacher turned slightly, offering Miss Brooks a faint, almost teasing smirk. Miss Brooks didn't respond, but there was a steely edge to her expression that hadn't been there before. "Looks like someone's got her riled up," Cora whispered under her breath, just loud enough for the group to hear. Noah smirked to himself. 'Whatever this thing is between them, it might be just the edge we need'

Chapter 8 The golden goose

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