Major General Raevor Veyr remained completely motionless for several seconds, his posture rigid as a statue beneath the harsh white lights of the flagship.
[Guide resonance detected.]
The holographic notification continued to glow stubbornly inside his mental interface, refusing to disappear. On the outside, his handsome face was a mask of absolute, icy composure. Internally, however, his thoughts were turbulent and deeply disquieted.
It was fundamentally impossible. A 3S Sentinel’s resonance pathways were not something that triggered casually or without an indisputable biological cause.
In his thirty-five years of life, he had encountered hundreds of high-ranking Guides across the galaxy, yet he had never experienced such a violent, instinctual reaction to another person. Not a single time.
"Major General Veyr, sir?" his adjutant’s cautious voice cut through the quiet room, snapping him back to reality.
Raevor’s dark, piercing gaze shifted slowly toward the young officer.
"Have the chief medical officer prepare a private, high-level diagnostic examination room immediately," he ordered.
The adjutant blinked in surprise, checking his optical brain. "Right now, sir? Should we not finish supervising the cadet intake first?"
"Right now," Raevor repeated, his voice carrying a subtle, sharp edge that admitted no further argument.
Recognizing the shift in his commander’s tone, the adjutant immediately stopped asking questions, snapped a crisp salute, and hurried off to fulfill the command.
Ten minutes later, inside an isolated, heavily shielded medical chamber aboard the flagship Veyr, Major General Raevor stood directly beneath a circular diagnostic scanner.
A series of intense, blue-white laser arrays swept down his body, scanning his neural pathways and physical frame in real time. Floating holographic displays immediately materialized in the sanitized air around him, displaying his biological metrics.
[Sentinel Mental Pathways: Exceptionally Stable.]
[Physical Condition: Optimal.]
[Sentinel Rank: 3S Class.]
Raevor’s stoic expression remained completely unchanged as he reviewed his baseline stats. Then, the automated medical AI shifted its diagnostic focus toward analyzing his active resonance pathways.
The floating interface suddenly flickered with a harsh crimson prompt.
[Warning: Abnormal Resonance Activity Detected.]
Raevor’s dark eyes narrowed into cold, dangerous slits.
"Run the entire diagnostic examination again," he instructed the system. "Recalibrate the neural sensors."
"Complying with commander directive," the synthesized, neutral voice of the medical AI responded smoothly as the scanner activated for a second time.
Blue light swept over him once more, but the ultimate result remained stubbornly identical.
[Abnormal Guide-Sentinel Resonance Detected.]
[Resonance Intensity: Extremely High.]
Raevor’s jaw tightened visibly.
"That is logically impossible," he stated flatly to the empty room.
"The diagnostic result has been verified through three independent neural pathways," the medical AI replied calmly. "Sensors indicate an active, high-compatibility Guide signature has recently interacted with your mental field."
Raevor stared silently at the glowing holographic numbers. He had spent over two decades cultivating absolute, ironclad discipline over his dangerous Sentinel instincts.
As a 3S Sentinel, he was widely considered one of the most terrifying, unshakeable military commanders in the entire Empire.
His mental pathways were exceptionally stable, carefully guarded against unwanted external influence. Yet, a single twenty-year-old girl, labeled by the entire capital as an E-rank failure, had caused his neural network to react with violent, unprecedented force.
There had to be a technical error or an external factor at play.
"Analyze the exact environmental source of the resonance packet," Raevor commanded.
The holographic display paused, processing the complex data stream.
"Source identification incomplete," the machine announced.
Raevor’s dark expression darkened further. "Explain why."
"Insufficient local resonance data," the AI explained. "The target individual’s mental signature appears artificially obscured or heavily suppressed, preventing a complete biometric match."
Raevor turned away from the circular scanner, stepping off the diagnostic platform.
"Then do not make premature analytical assumptions," he commanded coldly.
"Understood, Major General," the AI responded before powering down the scanning lights.
"Schedule another deep-level neural scan for later tonight," Raevor added, adjusting the cuffs of his dark blue military uniform.
Meanwhile, outside the medical bay in the flagship’s main corridor, Rhaevia stood near a wide viewport alongside several other rescued cadets. She kept her hands casually tucked into her pockets, her sharp eyes watching the heavy, reinforced doors of the private examination chamber.
That man is far too intense, she observed silently, recalling her brief interaction with the Major General.
During her previous life on a blood-soaked, apocalyptic Earth, Rhaevia had crossed paths with countless powerful military commanders and ruthless warlords. Yet, Major General Raevor Veyr possessed an unusually oppressive, suffocating aura that set him apart from ordinary officers.
It was not merely derived from his prestigious military rank or his 3S classification. It was his dark, unblinking eyes. They were the sharp, calculating eyes of a veteran soldier who had spent his entire youth standing on brutal, unforgiving battlefields.
He looked like the type of commander who interrogates prisoners for fun, she thought with a faint, amused smile.
A loud hiss echoed through the corridor as the heavy medical doors finally slid open. Major General Raevor stepped out into the hallway, his face restored to its usual, impassive mask.
Rhaevia glanced over at him lazily, her dark pupils locking onto his.
The surrounding cadets immediately stiffened, holding their breath and bowing their heads in pure reverence. Rhaevia, however, simply turned and walked directly toward the towering commander.
"Major General," she acknowledged smoothly, offering a polite yet completely relaxed head nod.
Raevor stopped in his tracks, offering a slight, rigid nod in return.
"You should report directly to the ship’s medical personnel for a complete physical examination," he stated.
"I already completed the mandatory health scan ten minutes ago," Rhaevia replied, her tone entirely flat.
"Then you are expected to follow standard evacuation procedures and proceed to the designated cadet quarters," Raevor instructed, his piercing gaze searching her unreadable face.
"I am aware," she said simply.
Raevor paused briefly, caught slightly off guard. For some reason, he had anticipated that an E-rank noble daughter would be visibly nervous or flustered in his presence, much like the other freshmen.
Instead, she addressed him with the casual, detached familiarity of a seasoned officer speaking to a peer.
Rhaevia looked past his shoulder toward the viewport, watching the shuttle bay operations below. "Are we departing this planet immediately?"
"Yes," Raevor replied.
"Good," she stated.
Without waiting for a formal dismissal, Rhaevia turned around on her heel and began walking away down the bright corridor.
Raevor stood motionless, staring after her retreating, slender figure with narrowed eyes.
Beside him, his young adjutant quietly lowered his head, desperately struggling to hide the faintest trace of pure amusement. In all his years of service, he had never seen anyone speak to the formidable youngest Major General of the Empire so casually.
Raevor’s dark eyes narrowed further as he watched her disappear around a corner.
Suddenly, his wrist-mounted medical interface vibrated sharply, flashing a bright green prompt across his private display.
[Resonance Source Successfully Identified.]
His stoic expression subtly shifted as a second, far more dangerous notification materialized directly beneath the first.
[Potentially Compatible 3S Guide Detected.]
[Subject Identity: Rhaevia Rythundeir.]