"D‑rank physique. Augment class."
Soren tilted her chin—cool fingers brushing her skin, impersonal but lingering, like he wasn't sure whether he was checking vitals or committing her to memory.
"Self‑healing's a passive perk after awakening. Nothing unusual."
His voice was far too pleasant for a man delivering medical‑grade bad news.
The female officer beside him snapped ram‑rod straight; her harness creaked like a door under siege.
"Y‑yes, sir! Filed as Augment." She hesitated, lowering her tablet. "But her birth‑scan flagged zero Esper aptitude…"
Birth scan?
Avery blinked. Great—this universe scans charm, IQ, and sarcasm at delivery too?
Soren's knuckles tapped a thoughtful rhythm on his tactical glove—judgment coded in Morse. Golden eyes sharpened, connecting inconvenient dots.
"No aptitude?" A whisper of amusement curled his mouth. "Well, she's got it now."
He turned on his heel—movement fluid, final. "Combat scene. You're with me."
Only when his footsteps faded did Avery loosen the death‑grip on her ribs. Her pulse thumped like a CFO stamping urgent on every internal memo.
"LUSTRA, translate: what exactly is my body right now?"
[SYSTEM]
Augment — physical enhancement
Elemental — energy channeling
Trait — unique mutations
Psionic — mental fortitude.
Physique ranks: E → A.
So Espers were containers.And physique determined their capacity.D-rank meant she was currently a shot glass in a hurricane—barely holding shape.
Avery pressed cool fingers to her throbbing temples.
The officer, meanwhile, had devolved into poorly suppressed fangirling.
"That was Commander Wolfe! The man who bisected an A-rank Aberrant mid-leap at twenty-two!"
Judicators—the Bureau's elite enforcers.Calling Wolfe a soldier would be like calling a nuclear warhead fireworks.
Avery nodded weakly."His presence is... intense."
"Intense?"The woman looked scandalized."That's the Federation's most decorated Judicator! He's got three separate fanclubs at HQ!"
Avery's lips twitched.She'd manufactured enough celebrities to recognize the packaging—though Soren Wolfe clearly came pre-wrapped in hazard tape.
"Dangerously photogenic, then," she conceded.
The officer leaned in conspiratorially."Rumor says he's being promoted to Arbiter. The 'Cipher Judicator' tag? Just a placeholder until they figure out what to make of him."
Avery blinked."Wait—the earlier battle wasn't him?"
"That was Callan Wolfe. The Iceflame Judicator."The whisper dripped with drama."The Wolfe twins are called 'Twin Stars' for a reason."
Ah.Corporate politics in tactical gear.That whole spectacle had been... an audition.
Avery's exhausted chuckle died as her elbow brushed the wall—
CRACK.
She stared at the new fracture spiderwebbing from the point of contact.Her hands—previously littered with scars—now looked like they'd never held anything heavier than a champagne flute.
The officer groaned."Even a D-rank physique isn't something to scoff at. Let's get moving before you break something else."