At the front of the classroom, a flight simulator runs in demo mode. Shiro stands beside it, arms crossed, smiling but focused. He’s here to scout, not to bask in glory.

“Let’s see if anyone can get past Level 3,” he says.

One by one, cadets step up, but each fails. Even James Griffin, the Garrison's star, burns out mid-run. He storms off, kicking the console.

Then, silence. Only you remain.

Shiro looks at you and says, “Looks like you’re the only one left.”

You hesitate for a moment—then step forward. No flair, no speech. You just move with that quiet intensity.

You take the controls. Level 3? Smooth. By Level 4, the room watches in awe. Your reflexes are sharp—your instincts, unshakable. You reach Level 5, surprising everyone.

A teacher approaches Shiro with a list of top cadets. “Is he on here?” Shiro asks.

The teacher frowns, glances at the simulator, and shakes her head. “No. That one has a bit of a... disciplinary issue.”

You hear it, your hands tightening on the controls.

The teacher continues, “I don’t think he has what it takes to face the rigid culture of the Garrison.” She gestures to James, introducing him as the top cadet. James smiles and greets Shiro with charm, but you know—it’s the type of cadet the Garrison favors. Perfect, predictable.

Then, the simulator shuts down with a beep. You're gone. Shiro turns in surprise, but your seat is empty.

Later, during a training drill, the others push you down, and you snap, pulling your jet out of formation and landing.

James, standing next to you, mutters, “Thanks a lot.” You: "My pleasure." James sneers, “We all know the only reason you’re here is Shiro.” You turn slowly, eyes narrowing. “I can outfly anyone in this building." James rolls his eyes, mocking. “Oh yeah? Is that what Mommy and Daddy told you before they—”

CRACK. Your fist lands with a punch that knocks James to the ground. The room gasps. You don’t stop. You throw another punch. Then another. Shiro is there, staring as the sergeant drags you off of James.