Chapter 6
Questioning
The Viridis Survival Guide is a YA sci-fi serial about Ava, a people-pleasing 17-year-old who enters a virtual program while she sleeps to save her dying brother, only to discover she may never wake back up.
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NEW MESSAGE:
[ROSIE.AI | 09-22 10:45 PM] Rule 3: Never sign up for anything. It ends with your life expectancy mysteriously shortened. xx
It all happens at once.
One second, I’m frozen on stage, the whole Arena holding its breath. The next, the crowd erupts like a shaken-up soda can, fizzing over with panic and fury.
Voices collide—jeers, shouts, my name hurled like a rock. Fingers stab the air in my direction, then toward Custos, then back at the scoreboard that still screams CLEARED in stubborn, glowing letters.
“What does it mean?”
“It’s rigged!”
“She just skipped four years of training!”
Cleared does not sound like a good thing. My stomach twists into a balloon animal, my palms are clammy, and I have this distinct sense that I should be running in the opposite direction.
But before I can choose fight, flight, or faint, a pair of beefy hands clamp onto my shoulders. Security. Their grip is firm, not unkind, but there’s no room for protest. I’m swept away, shoved onto a transporter square.
Whoosh.
The chaos disappears in a blink.
I stop in front of a heavy oak door, dark with simulated age. A brass plaque that’s tarnished, but meticulously polished around the letters reads: Guardian Elia Custos.
The door opens without a sound, which somehow makes it worse.
The office inside is cathedral-quiet.
A towering window frames the far wall, but instead of daylight it looks out over a storm-torn sea, waves black-blue and endless, like the ocean is pressing its forehead against the glass.
Security leaves me at the threshold with a curt nod.
Physically I’m still, but mentally my thoughts bounce, collide, ricochet into one another. What does Cleared mean? And why does every single person look at me like I’ve either committed treason or am about to sprout wings and smite them?
Then voices. Heated ones, muffled by the door.
I snap upright as it hisses open again.
Guardian Custos strides in first, followed by a squat, scowling woman who radiates I’m-about-to-ruin-your-day energy.
Custos sits behind her desk and the scowling woman and I sit opposite her. Custos’s expression is tight, almost apologetic, like she’s trying to solve a puzzle she’s not sure should even exist.
“Thank you for coming, Ava,” she says at last.
I blink. My brain short-circuits. I wasn’t exactly given a choice.
“Anytime,” I reply.
Custos gestures to her companion. “This is Professor Bullfred, head of Security.”
Bullfred does not extend her hand. She does not nod. She just stares, the weight of her gaze pressing down on me like lead.
I smile anyway, a twitchy, please-don’t-eat-me smile. “Hi. Big fan of… security.”
She doesn’t move.
I press my hands between my knees to prevent them from shaking. The movement feels oddly familiar. Like déjà vu.
Custos leans forward. “Your student score has given us quite a stir.”
A stir? I wouldn’t call that mosh pit ‘a stir.’ It felt more like the student body was on the verge of a collective mental breakdown. I understand they care badly about wanting to train under the virtual world’s creator, but that reaction was a tad extreme.
The scowling lady scoffs.
“It’s not a stir. It’s a blatant security breach. One that needs immediate correction.”
At least we’re in agreement.
Her glare slices straight through me, and suddenly, I feel exposed. Like she can see right through my skin, past my bones, and straight into the part of me that suspects—knows—I don’t belong here. That there’s been a mistake.
Custos ignores her and says gently, “Your score displayed a word. An unusual word.” She pauses, like she’s trying to gauge my reaction. “Do you have any idea why it would say ‘Cleared’?”
I shake my head. “I—I mean, I wish I did, but no. I’m just as confused as you are. Maybe more.”
Bullfred’s voice booms. “There are only two explanations. One: a system error.”
I nod so fast my brain almost rattles. Yes. An error. That’s what I’ve been saying all along. Finally, I’m going to get out of here. I want to hug her, give her a fruit basket, spray confetti.
But then Custos shakes her head. “The Sengineers have confirmed that the system is functioning perfectly.”
My internal fruit basket shatters into a million pieces.
Bullfred’s lips press together in a thin line. “Then that leaves option two: your student score was hacked.”
“Hacked?” I repeat, because surely I misheard. “Someone broke into the system to mess with me? Why would anyone do that? I’m not exactly—” I gesture vaguely at myself, “—a person of interest.”
Custos scoffs. “It’s absurd. No one would take that kind of risk.”
I understand what she’s talking about. I’ve heard about hackers in reality that try to break into Sen Academy and are caught. They’re sent to jail, their implants deactivated, and placed under lifetime Senium bans.
Bullfred gives me a long, considered look. “Maybe she didn’t need a hacker.”
Custos looks as bewildered as I feel. “You think Ava hacked her own score?”
My stomach drops. I don’t even know how to hack a microwave, let alone a student score.
I lift my hands. “Okay, listen. I have zero computer skills. I’m supposed to be a guinea pig for Cloudkind. I’m in the Workforce Program, testing new features and reporting anomalies. I’m here by mistake. If you just let me leave, you wouldn’t have to worry anymore.”
I feel like a broken record. When will these people get it?
Bullfred’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you think it’s strange?” She muses aloud. “A late Viridis arrival. Claiming to be here by mistake. No student score. And in its place, a cryptic word.” She turns back to Custos. “Who cleared her? And why?”
The room goes silent.
Custos nods her head. “I want a full investigation into the matter.” Then in a surprisingly warm movement, she walks over to me and rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Until then, you may remain in the competition.”
No. I don’t want them to get to the bottom of this. I don’t want to be in their ominous competition anymore. I want them to realize this is all a big misunderstanding and send me home immediately.
But if I’m in the competition, I should at least get to speak to the man I’m competing to work for.
“When do I get to meet Levi?”
The silence that follows feels like a stab in the gut.
“Only the victor of the Trials will meet and build alongside Mr. Sen,” Custos says.
I don’t know why I thought it was immediate. I don’t know if I was thinking at all when I signed up. I’m just so desperate to get out of here, back to Leo, and figure out what went wrong.
Bullfred stands, her face tomato-red. “We need to complete the Intrusion Response Protocol. She could be hacked right now.”
“You can’t go around sniffing inside innocent implants. She’s exhibiting none of the classic signs.”
Bullfred levels a sharp look at Custos. “When this all blows up in your face, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Then she shifts her glare to me and says, “I’ll figure out what you’re hiding.”
I swallow hard.
Custos gently squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sure you belong here as much as anyone else. And I know we will see wonderful things from you.”
I make a sound that’s half nervous laugh, half strangled sob. Sure. Wonderful things. Like me spectacularly failing whatever this contest is and embarrassing myself in front of everyone.
Bullfred storms out and Custos guides me out of the room, down a dark corridor that should lead back to the common room. When I’m alone, I lean against the cold stone of the tunnel, trying to make sense of what just happened. I glance down at my wrist.
The Viridis tattoo stares back at me.
I think about the message I saw earlier, the one from the unknown sender.
[SOURCE: UNTRACEABLE] Follow.
A chill prickles down my spine.
I don’t know what it means. Follow what and who? The mysterious figure from the boat who dove into the ocean? Even if I knew who it was and what they wanted, I have no way of following them anywhere, let alone into the sea. The Sen Academy appears locked up with no such exit. Even the ferry entrance I used upon arrival is sealed up.
I have a terrible feeling that someone wants me here.
And it definitely isn’t the other students.
Their loathing is sticky and inescapable. They threw rocks at me during the Entrance Ascent like failure would erase me. On the stage, their boos were so loud that I could feel it in my bones. They’re convinced that I cheated, that I slipped through a door meant to stay locked. They smell it on me, my wrongness, the way animals sense an intruder in a pack.
I wish I didn’t care. But what terrifies me is the thought that I’m not just passing through, that I might be trapped here with them, night after night, in a place where being hated is the atmosphere. A place where both monsters and students thirst to end me.
“You’re not wrong,” someone says behind me.
I spin around.
A woman stands a few feet away. She’s petite but there’s nothing soft about her. Black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, blunt bangs shadowing her pale face. Silver piercings line both ears, glinting against the sharp edge of dark eyeliner and matte lipstick. Her clothes are tight, minimal, and definitely not regulation.
“You look like you needed someone to say that aloud,” she adds. Her expression is tired, but kind. Like she’s seen this exact moment a dozen times before.
I instinctively straighten, brushing my palms over my sleeves like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.
“Sorry—I was just—processing. I can move if you need to get through—”
She arches a brow. “Relax. I don’t grade tunnel breakdowns.”
I manage a thin smile. “You’re a professor?”
She extends a hand. “Maja Andersson, but please call me Maja. I’m your Creation 101 professor,” she says cheerfully. “And you’re Ava Lumen.”
It’s not a question. The entire school knows me now.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“You look like someone trying very hard to disappear.”
I lean back against the wall. “Pretty sure half the student body thinks I cheated my way in, and the other half thinks I’m just some error in the system.”
Maja tilts her head. “Let me guess—you’re trying to figure out how to fix that.”
“I just want to leave.”
“Walk with me,” she says, moving slowly down the tunnel toward the common room.
I follow.
“You could be the kindest, smartest, most well-intentioned person in a room, and someone will still misread you. Or dislike you. Or twist your story to fit their own.”
My chest tightens. Try the entire student body hating you.
“Controlling how people see you is a full-time job with zero payoff.”
“So, what? I just stop caring?”
“No,” she says gently. “You care about what matters. Your work. Your people. Your passions.”
Leo. I’m getting too side-tracked worrying about this stupid place that I’m forgetting the real reason I’m in Senium to begin with. I need to get into the Workforce Program and help Leo.
“Let them think what they think. You’ve got better things to do than manage someone else’s projection.”
I look down at my wrist, still glowing green with the word Viridis.
“And what if I am an error?”
Maja and I stop at the Viridis common room door. “Look, I’m not going to tell you that things happen for a reason because that sentiment is garbage.”
I smile at her blunt honesty.
“If this has all been a mistake, it will be corrected in reality. Until then, I suggest you focus on what matters. The rest is noise,” she says, resting a warm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let the rough exterior fool you. This place will teach you amazing, wonderful things if you let it.”
I nod. I don’t want to, but her warm voice makes me believe her words.
Maja smiles sympathetically. “See me after class. I’ll show you the things they don’t want in the syllabus,” she says with a wink.
She disappears into the corridor, leaving me alone with the dread of what comes next: my first class.
Security 101.