Chapter 192: 192 | A Lecture on Chunky Salsa

I wiped the sweat off my face and gulped down another swig of water as Garrett wrapped up the physical assessments. My muscles burned in that particular way that meant they’d grown stronger, not weaker.

"Not bad, Monroe." Garrett’s massive hand hit my shoulder like a falling boulder. Most students would have staggered. I barely moved. "Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. The academy needs more soldiers who understand conditioning."

"Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet." His smile went sharp and mean. "Next month’s benchmarks will be worse. Much worse."

Perfect. Something to look forward to.

Belle appeared at my elbow once Garrett left to terrorize other victims. "You realize you just jumped from bottom ten percent to top five, right? In three weeks."

"Yeah."

"People are going to talk."

"Let them." I checked the time and grabbed my water bottle. "We’ve got Cross’s class in fifteen minutes. Should probably get moving."

Naomi appeared on my other side, her pink eyes bright with excitement. "That was amazing! The way you carried that dummy like it was nothing!"

"You did great too," I told her. "Twenty-two pull-ups is impressive."

Her smile widened. "Thanks, but we both know I’ve been able to do twenty-two for a while. You’re the one who couldn’t do five a few weeks ago."

Belle snorted. "The chunky to hunky transformation strikes again."

"Can we drop that nickname?" I sighed.

"No way," Belle said. "It’s perfect."

Jordan stumbled over, still pulling air from the obstacle course. His normally stoic face looked about three degrees warmer than absolute zero. "You didn’t faceplant, Monroe. Shocking."

"Your approval means so much."

"Don’t get comfortable with it." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Though watching Davenport’s face when you obliterated her record was... educational."

Misato appeared, already checking her phone. "Cross’s class starts in fourteen minutes. Showing up late after you just humiliated Blair would be tactically stupid."

We grabbed our bags and hustled across campus toward the lecture building. The October sun felt good against my skin, warm without being oppressive. California weather beat the hell out of Michigan winters.

"So what exactly is this class about?" I asked. "The schedule just says ’Gate Theory II.’"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Boring shit. Properties of gates. Types of fractures. How to identify gate stability. Super important, super tedious."

"Oh, because you did so well when that Bronze Gate shifted under you," Belle shot back.

"One incident."

"Which still counts." Belle’s grin turned vicious.

Naomi stepped between them. "Can we maybe not fight before class?"

I kept quiet, enjoying the familiar rhythm of their argument. Three weeks since I’d woken up in this body with seventy-two hours to live. Three weeks since Belle had agreed to let me milk her in exchange for dungeon guidance. Three weeks since I’d realized these idiots were the closest thing I had to allies in a world that wanted me dead.

The lecture hall appeared ahead—glass and steel architecture pretending to be an Apple Store instead of a place where teenagers learned to not die in dimensional hellholes. Inside, stadium seating curved down toward screens big enough to show off monster anatomy in horrifying 4K detail.

We pushed through the double doors into Dr. Cross’s classroom. House Amber had already claimed the left side, their gold-trimmed uniforms clustered together like a support group. Which, considering their house’s track record, made sense.

We grabbed seats halfway up—close enough to the front that it wouldn’t look like we were sleeping, far enough back that Dr. Cross couldn’t make constant eye contact. The stadium seating filled fast around us. Amber kids naturally flocked together on one side while we formed a darker cluster on the other.

I spotted a tall girl in gold trim settling into the front row. Even from here I could see she had the kind of athletic build that said "I actually train." Elite Ten, probably. One of Amber’s token representatives who somehow survived being surrounded by eternal optimists.

The door below us opened exactly at nine, and Dr. Cross made her entrance.

She wore a black pencil skirt that clung to every curve and a yellow blouse with at least two buttons too many left open. Her hair caught the overhead lights as she moved, and I watched several male students sit up straighter without realizing it.

"Good morning, future gate fodder!" Her voice filled the space without needing amplification.

The Amber section responded in perfect unison. "Good morning, Dr. Cross!"

She set her coffee down with a satisfied smile. "How lovely. House Obsidian has graced us with their presence today." Her eyes swept over our group. "Do try not to corrupt my sweet Amber darlings with all that scowling and existential dread you specialize in."

A few chuckles rippled through the room.

"Now." Dr. Cross leaned against her desk. "Who wants to refresh my memory about last week’s material? Gate classifications, threat levels, all that life-saving information you definitely studied?"

Every Amber hand in the room went up. She chose a pale, nervous-looking boy two rows from the front.

He stood, cleared his throat. "Tier I gates require small teams, three to five hunters. Tier II needs coordination, six to ten minimum. Tier III demands at least A-rank hunters or you’re committing suicide. Tier IV means top-fifty ranked hunters deploy, and Tier V..." He paused. "Tier V is pray the planet survives."

"Very good, Kevin." She beamed at him. "Now, today we’re discussing something even more exciting: gate anomalies!"

She tapped the lectern, and the massive screen behind her lit up with images of strange-looking gates – some pulsing with odd colors, others seeming to warp the space around them.

"Regular gates are dangerous enough, but anomalous gates?" She waggled her eyebrows dramatically. "Those are where even experienced hunters get turned into chunky salsa."

Her eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on my squad. "I understand some of you recently had your first taste of a real gate. Not a simulation, not a training exercise, but an actual rift into another dimension filled with things that want to eat your face." She smiled sweetly. "How was it?"