Calista Elise Medley
First-Year One Student
Level 2
XP: 43/100
HP: 100/100
EP: 50/100
RP Status: Weak/Doubted— -20 RP
Weakness Lvl 16
Weaponry class was a Theory class, which Calista was very grateful for. Combat had been terribly grueling and left her body aching, even after having her HP restored. Everyone had sparred against a CD-Sim at medium difficulty, and Calista was punched, kicked, and slammed on the mat numerous times. It was so humiliating that her Reputation Status had downgraded in no time flat to the next negative rank. She might as well be back home in her old life.
Task Acquired: Attend Weaponry class— 3 XP
Her heart was pounding when she entered her next class. It had staircase seats and long tables with built-in holo-screens, the HARP-ED at the front of the room. A coach and a professor were standing there, waiting for the students to be seated— one was a gray-skinned, silver-haired Martian and the other was a bald Paesearthian with earthy skin that had a purple tint to it.
Jiles Forforran
Professor
Level 3,544
304 RP— Teacher
Professors didn’t have call signs; they usually concentrated fully on the academic and theory side of fighting and didn’t partake in the competition in their younger years. Coaches were the ones with experience in both the Games and the military.
Taraji ‘Teeth’ Gowon
Coach
Level 6,200
713 RP— Hero
“I know him…” Calista trailed off, shocked at the coach’s Levels.
“He competed a long time ago, before Chrisman,” Lindsay told her. “He almost got eliminated in his quarter-final, but caught himself on a tree branch with just his teeth!”
“His teeth?” Calista got her answer when the coach smiled at something the professor said; he had long, jagged fangs. “Is that a mod?” She found a seat and sat down about four rows up from the HARP-ED.
“No, he was born with them. Was supposed to be a defect, but he turned it into an ability and kept them.”
The classroom doorway’s frame dinged and turned red, indicating the start of the lesson. The door’s state of matter changed to solid, locking the room.
Weaponry Class in session!
“Good morning, first-year-ones,” Professor Jiles said.
All roughly-thirty stood thunderously, Calista clumsily following. “Good morning, Professor Jiles and Coach Taraji,” they chorused, then sat down again. Calista got chills— they sounded like a storm.
“Congratulations on your acceptance to this prestigious academy. I hope you understand what kind of opportunity this is.” Professor Jiles paced slowly in front of the HARP-ED. “Even without making the team, just adopting the title of ‘Fistborn Student’ opens up a plethora of opportunities. Study hard, train well, and discipline yourself, and you will find immense success in the galaxy. Our society depends on people like us to promote safety and security to our planet and the galaxy at large. This isn’t just about a crowd cheering your name in an arena— this is about proving that Earth is capable of defending itself against invasion and collapse.”
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He stopped and narrowed his blacked-out eyes. Without pupils, he seemed to stare straight ahead, but Calista knew he was looking at different students, maybe even at her. “You need to prove you are a Bald Eagle. Prove you will meet every task given, even if it’s not as adrenaline-inducing as a Chaos Round. It’s not just about playing games. I’m going to see if all of you truly have paid attention to the intricacies of a fighter’s arsenal.” A smile twitched at his lips. “Coach Taraji and I will call you one-by-one and ask you a…” —he shrugged— “simple question about Weaponry. Let’s see how much you know.”
Calista felt her throat dry up and her body freeze like a statue. Would they be calling everyone? She didn’t know enough about Weaponry!
“Trelon Cazith,” Coach Taraji called, his words sounding like a hiss through his uneven fangs. A soft light illuminated a seat far up in the back rows. A fair-skinned Mercearthian man stood with his back straight and his chin up, his skin lightly sparkling like sand.
“Level 18… I expect you to know this,” Professor Jiles said, some slyness in his tone. “What weapon class do Retracting Blades belong to?”
He was looking at people’s Levels— maybe he’d go easy on her because she was only at Level 2.
“Long-range chain weapons, sir,” the Mercearthian replied in a deep, earthy voice.
“And what is the average damage range?”
Some lower-leveled students winced at the question, staring at the man as he paused to think.
“It’s… averagely 25 HP per hit, sir.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
Professor Jiles shrugged. “Close enough. Can anyone else tell me the correct answer?”
The light faded from the Mercearthian and he sat down, clearly disappointed that he got it wrong.
A soft ding came from one of the front rows to the right, a light illuminating a Seeyastearthian girl with deep purple skin and lavender hair.
“Miss… Neka Barina,” Coach Taraji addressed, nodding at her to stand.
She did so, briefly glancing up at the Mercearthian with a haughty smile. Calista could see her eyes were more like an Earthian’s, her blue eyes circular. “The correct answer is 18 to 22 HP damage on average, sir,” she said nasally.
“Correct.” Professor Jiles nodded at her and the light faded, prompting her to sit back down. A pop-up appeared above her tag:
+2 XP
Calista desperately needed Experience Points. She prayed she’d get an easy enough question.
After a few more questions to the other students, with many getting them right and some being close, Coach Taraji’s green eyes finally landed on her skinny figure. “Calista Medley,” he said, commanding the light to shine from under her.
Gulping, Calista stood shakily. She noticed a few students giving her a once-over, probably wondering why she was so thin and why she was even here.
“Level 2, huh?” Professor Jiles said. “You are fortunate to be here, Miss Medley. Most students have more experience when they’re accepted.”
“Yes, sir. I’m grateful for the opportunity,” she responded politely.
“Vice President Kalley requested you,” Coach Taraji said, bringing whispers among the students. “He must have seen something worth exploiting in you.”
“I-I suppose so, sir.” She wasn’t sure how to answer to that.
“What class do twin swords belong to?” he then asked.
Calista’s nerves blanked out her brain. “Focus, Calista,” Lindsay told her, waking her up.
“I-I…” She cleared her throat, hearing chuckles. “They’re in the… Blade class.”
“Which category?”
“Sir?”
“Short-range or long-range? Pay attention.” Annoyance crept into the coach’s voice.
“Sh-short-range, sir,” she answered, unsure. It made sense, right? Twin swords weren’t thrown or shot anywhere.
“What is the Armor Penetration rate?”
Glitch. She didn’t know what that meant. Did they mean damage to armor? Wasn’t that the same as HP damage?
“Five… five to ten HP?” she said. She knew she was very wrong when snickers ripped across the classroom.
Professor Jiles sighed, disappointed. “You should’ve been more prepared when applying to a school like this, Miss Medley.”
-5 RP
The light faded and Calista sat down, resisting the urge to bury her red face in her arms. Someone else answered the question: “Three to ten Armor Points, sir.” What even were Armor Points?!
Reputation here was as delicate as it was in the Socializer world. The problem was that Calista didn’t know how to get it up. She didn’t have the knowledge, the means, or the expertise. Now that Benson Kalley’s recommendation was made public, everyone would be thinking her a fraud.
She couldn’t let Kate and Quinlan down. It was going to be very difficult to keep her head above the water.
===
After Weaponry came Disciplines class, where Calista learned about different fighting styles in existence. Being a Practicum class, they had to practice various kicks, punches, and stances. It was a lot easier than Combat class, since they weren’t actually fighting against anyone, just practicing the moves themselves. Calista found it a lot easier to stay still for a long period of time, having gotten plenty of training in that regard.
It was obviously impossible to know every existing discipline, but she wanted to know more than just a few Earthian styles that wouldn’t defend well against other aliens’. There were many disciplines that could fit into all sorts of combinations.
On Earth, there were at least three hundred alone, like karate, judo, or jiu-jitsu. Then, there were mixes of disciplines from Mars and Mercury that were added on after the Utopia came to be.
As Coach Usda had shown Calista in her first class, every planet had their own original and mixed disciplines. Those styles would combine with others, making many more. In the end, it was up to the fighter to decide which ones worked best with them.
During the short Break period, she marched straight to the Studitorium to expand her knowledge base. Lindsay helped her organize the different weapon classes, disciplines, and armor types into different categories she could digest easier.
“Remember, during your first week, I’m allowed to help you a lot,” Lindsay would tell her. “But starting next Monday, my help will be limited. You need to learn to fend for yourself.”
In Armory class— taught by an Emitonian and a Voraxian— she’d managed to remember enough to answer her question.
“What is the most recent update to armor in the Games?” Coach Emeeli ‘Mercy’ Yoaco had asked. Despite being Voraxian, she was quite kind, balancing out Professor Pilios Jinjo’s harsh manner.
“Players will be eliminated in Chaos Rounds if Armor Integrity reaches 50 AP for their own safety. It will be unbreakable in one-on-one fights.”
“Correct.”
+2 XP
Calista remembered that very well— after Joanna ‘Robot’ Kajlinkho’s accidental death in the last Games, the admins made sure to update rules to prevent it from ever happening again. Someone would have to intentionally murder someone to repeat the awful incident.