Chương 16: Chapter 15

The pod opened and I was once again greeted by a sight of metal and plastic. The smell of blood and smoke still lingered in my nostrils even though I knew it wasn't real. Even knowing that it had been a simulation, I couldn't help but think about what I had just gone through. Back in the academy, we occasionally used educational sim bays to look at foreign planets or explore specific periods in time. Nothing like what I just did. I hadn't even known that a simulation could be so…

"Cadet Jax," Professor Maren called out, interrupting my thoughts.

"Welcome back. Would you like to describe your experience?"

"It was… intense," I exhaled, rubbing my slightly gelatinous-at-the-moment arms.

"Intense is definitely one way to describe it," she chuckled.

"Anything more?" I glanced around the room and realized that most of the other students had already exited their pods. Some of them looked shaken while the others had a bored expression on their face. My eyes found Charlotte. She beamed back at me and gave me a quick thumbs-up.

"Well… I tried hard and it helped that the soldiers themselves were motivated. The simulation felt real enough that I would believe you if you told me they were alive. Some of them even went above and beyond what I ordered them to," I said while quietly thinking about Infantry C who seemed a little bit out of it by the end there, to say the least…

"Good." Professor Maren nodded and turned back to the rest of the class.

"Everyone, gather around, I want to discuss what you just experienced." The students formed a loose semicircle around her. I climbed out of my pod and joined them, finding a spot next to Charlotte. I caught Lysara pouting at me while standing on her other side. Cute.

"So," Maren began, arms crossed.

"Who can tell me what the point of that simulation was?" A hand shot up. One of the students, I didn't know her name yet, answered quickly, "To test our tactical decision-making under pressure."

"Good guess, Cadet Rachel." The professor looked around the room.

"Anyone else?" Another student tried.

"To see if we could complete the objective?"

"Another good guess. Unfortunately, the objective was designed to be nearly impossible at your current levels. There's no shame that most of you failed it." Murmurs rippled through the group.

"Then what was the point?" someone asked.

"The point of this class is to improve your Spirit stat. It should come as no surprise to you that some people crack under pressure. For others, they thrive. If doing well under pressure was all that Spirit measured, then it would be a simple enough score. Instead, I like to think of Spirit as a person's… presence."

"Similar to command presence?" Philip asked from the side.

"Similar. Can you explain to the class what command presence is?" Philip frowned for a second before composing his answer.

"I would call it leadership. A quality where some people can lead others to go above and beyond their duty. To inspire courage and bravery."

"Excellent definition," Professor Maren said, nodding.

"In a traditional military sense, that is perfectly accurate. That leads to the question, why call it command presence rather than leadership?" That stumped Philip. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head and shrugging.

"Let me pose the question another way. Cadet Philip, what is your house motto?"

"Fortune favors the brave," Philip answered instantly.

"And would you say that motto inspires you? That it gives you strength when times are difficult?" Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, Professor."

"That's presence," Professor Maren said slowly.

"Your house has presence. Its history and reputation carry weight that affects how people perceive you and how you perceive yourself. A symbol can have presence. A flag, a banner, or a crest. Even a place can have it. Think of how differently you feel walking into a cathedral versus a battlefield. Presence is our way to describe the ability to evoke emotions." Charlotte nodded along with the professor's words. When she noticed me looking at her, a slight flush crept up her cheeks and she nudged me with her elbow.

"Spirit measures your ability to project and maintain that presence. Command presence is a subset of presence, and is usually meant to describe people that can convince others to follow them into hell itself."

"But it's not just about leading," I found myself saying. The words came out before I could stop them. That's the low Spirit I know and love. Professor Maren turned to me, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh? Cadet Jax has a theory?" I felt the eyes of the entire class on me and fidgeted slightly.

"In my simulation, I noticed something," I continued.

"The soldiers had their own presence. Infantry C kept pushing even when things got desperate and Infantry A volunteered their own opinion. I didn't command them to do that."

"Excellent observation," Maren said, and I caught a hint of approval in her voice, along with a glint in her eyes that I was not sure I liked.

"There are other types of presence. Such as one where you can more easily have others tell you things. Or encourage normally shy people to make fast friends. Spirit is the amalgamation of all of that." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Can that really be taught?" a student asked.

"It sounds like something you either have or you don't."

"It can be developed. Like any skill. Today's simulation was a baseline. Some of you performed well. Others..." She paused.

"Have room to grow." I noticed she didn't call anyone out by name. Probably a political landmine if she did.

"Your performance metrics are available through your ICI," Maren continued.

"Review them. Identify where your soldiers started to waver. Those are the moments you need to understand. Next session, we increase the complexity to Level 2. That's enough for today. Dismissed." The group began to disperse. Charlotte hung on my elbow before I even had the chance to take a step.

"That was so inteeense," she whined quietly.

"The simulation or the lecture?"

"Both." She grinned and nudged my shoulder.

"Come on. We've got time before dinner with Lysara." I waved to the still-pouting redhead as I was dragged out of the classroom. We walked through the corridors of the academy. The afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. A few other students passed us, some nodding in recognition.

"So," Charlotte said.

"What happened?"

"Quite a bit," I said, unsure of where to start.

"I was in charge of four infantrymen."

"Just four?" Charlotte asked with a bit of surprise.

"Yeah, my Spirit score is pretty low," I admitted.

"Could have fooled me. Just based on how you handle yourself around me and the others, I would have assumed at least 20." I shrugged.

"Not sure either, to be honest." That was the mystery, wasn't it. Gradually, I told Charlotte about the first wave and how I'd let them get close before opening fire. About the flanking maneuver I had spotted and the grenades that gave us breathing room. And then the final moments with Infantry C's transformation from nervous soldier to blood-soaked berserker.

"She was terrifying by the end. Laughing while hacking at Orcs with one of their own blades." I shook my head.

"I don't know if that's good leadership or if I accidentally broke her." Charlotte laughed.

"Probably both. The best commanders inspire people to exceed their limits. Sometimes that means pushing them past what's comfortable... or sane."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Not really. None of my soldiers went that far for me." Her silver-gray eyes met mine.

"But I've seen what the presence of Professor Maren looks like up close." I shivered, remembering how she had looked at me back during our first meeting, in the office. It was disconcerting how different her personality in the classroom was.

"Oh? Do tell." Charlotte tapped her chin.

"It's hard to describe. It's not charisma exactly, though that helps. It's more like... certainty. When someone with high Spirit walks into a room, you believe them. Even if what they're saying is impossible."

"Do I have that?"

"Fishing for compliments?"

"Genuinely curious." Charlotte smiled.

"You have something. I noticed it on the shuttle. When I first saw you, I just wanted to know what you were thinking for some reason." I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

"That might just be those nice eyes you mentioned."

"The nice eyes help." She bumped her shoulder against mine and grinned.

"Speaking of which, you still owe me that rematch. Especially after you leaving me high and dry last time." I shook an imaginary fist at Vera's direction.

"Of course! I haven't forgotten."

"Good. Because I've been working on some new strategies." Her eyes glinted.

"I don't intend to lose twice."

"Confident."

"Always." We settled into an easy stride as we made our way through the academy's winding corridors. The conversation about Spirit and presence still turned over in my mind, mixing with the lingering adrenaline from the sim.

"You know what I still don't understand?" I said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"How the simulation knew how to react. Infantry C going berserk and Infantry A offering tactical advice were sophisticated responses. Too sophisticated for basic AI. I've never been in a simulation that was so… real." Charlotte's expression shifted.

"You didn't read the briefing materials, did you?"

"There were briefing materials?" She laughed.

"Of course there were. The simulations use adaptive matrices. It's a lot of technical stuff but the gist is that these simulations are unique to the Strategos Program. Actually, it's part of why I wanted to join. They were developed using the latest breakthroughs on Spirit and Resonance Theory." Charlotte paused at an intersection, then gestured left.

"Dining hall's this way. We've got maybe twenty minutes before Lysara expects us." We turned down the corridor, passing a group of upperclassmen who gave us curious looks. I caught fragments of their conversation and heard something about tomorrow's combat trials.

"So what's your Spirit score?" I asked.

"If you don't mind me asking."

"Seventeen," Charlotte said without hesitation.

"Not amazing, but decent enough. I commanded eight soldiers in my simulation."

"Twice what I got."

"Don't sound so impressed. One of them deserted halfway through." She grimaced.

"Just turned around and ran. I thought I was doing well until that moment."

"What happened?"

"I got overconfident. Pushed too hard on an advance without securing our flanks. The Orcs came pouring in from the side and my formation broke. That soldier decided survival was more important than following orders." She shrugged, but I could see the frustration in her eyes.

"Can't say I blame him. I made a rookie mistake."

"But you still won?"

"Accomplished the objective? Sure. What percent of your men were casualties?" Charlotte asked back.

"ICI told me that two died. The other two weren't exactly in fighting shape by the time things ended either. I got lucky that the time ran out when it did."

"There's no such thing as luck in a simulation," Charlotte said forcefully.

"You either accomplish the objective or you don't. I suffered seventy-five percent casualties. Deaths, to be specific. The only ones alive were the one who deserted and one other infantry."

"I guess the good news is that you still get the experience for your Spirit."

"Spoken like someone who's never had to write a casualty report." The comment hit harder than she expected as I paused for a second in my step. Charlotte must have noticed because she quickly added, "Sorry. That came out wrong. I just mean that sometimes… spirit and presence, they're double-edged. You can inspire people to great things, but you can also inspire them to throw their lives away." We emerged into a wider corridor lined with portraits of distinguished academy graduates.

Their painted eyes seemed to follow us as we walked past.

"Reminds me of Philip's house motto," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fortune favors the brave."

"That's what happens when you have an entire house known for their commanders. The Aldrics are known for a lot of battlefield successes over the generations."

"Right, so what's your house motto?" I asked. Now, it was Charlotte's turn to pause slightly. Before I could comment on it, she recovered and gave me a sweet smile.

"Light from the Darkness. My interpretation of it is that every situation has a glimmer of hope. We just need to find and hold on to it."

"That's… pretty deep. I like it." She stopped walking and turned to face me fully. We looked at each other, and I felt myself become lost in the beautiful shades of her eyes, just like when we first met. She reached out and adjusted my collar.

"You, Jax, are dangerous. Now come on, let's get going before I do things the disciplinary committee would faint at. Lysara gets cranky when people are late, and I'd rather not start dinner on the wrong foot."

"One more question," I said.

"Shoot."

"What's Lysara's Spirit score?" Charlotte's smile turned wicked.

"Twenty-three. Why do you think everyone does what she says?" Hmm. Interesting. Then why have I never felt even slightly compelled to do what she wants?