The System Manipulator

Chapter 10 Class D Dormitory

“I’m just curious,” Zayel insisted.

This time, he said it out loud.

“I’M JUST CURIOUS.”

The words echoed faintly in the empty room.

Zayel froze.

Slowly, Tess’s eyes opened.

She blinked once, unfocused, then turned her head toward him.

Zayel’s soul nearly left his body.

Did I shout?

No. He was sure he did not.

But he had spoken out loud.

Tess stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Not annoyed. Not curious. Just assessing, like she was deciding whether he was worth the effort of a reaction.

Her thoughts flickered into his vision before he could stop them.

What’s with him? Is he always this absent-minded?

Then something unexpected slipped through.

Stupidly cute.

Zayel’s face burned.

He immediately looked away.

She thinks I’m stupid. Cute stupid. That’s worse.

Panicking, he asked Xu in his mind, “Is there a way to hide thought data from my view?”

Xu answered immediately, calm and reassuring. “Of course. You have the option to block thought data visibility. You can enable it only when you choose.”

Relief washed over him.

He turned it off without hesitation.

Some things were not meant to be seen.

Zayel left the classroom soon after.

Footsteps followed him.

Not rushed. Not aggressive. Just there.

All the way through the lower walkways where the lights dimmed and the walls grew closer. To the dorm section reserved for those the system had already given up on.

He did not dare look back.

When he reached his door, the footsteps stopped.

Someone stood in front of him.

Zayel gulped.

What do I say? What do I do? Is she going to say something?

He froze, standing directly in the narrow path.

Tess cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she said. “You’re blocking my way.”

Zayel realized it too late.

He scrambled aside, embarrassed, nearly hitting the wall.

Tess nodded once. Then she smirked. Not mocking. Just amused.

She walked to the door beside his.

Opened it.

And went inside.

Zayel stared at the closed door.

Then he laughed quietly at himself.

Same Class D.

Same dorm.

Neighbors.

For the first time in years, he was not the only Drifter.

And for some reason, he could not decide if that made things safer.

Or far more dangerous.

—

Zayel entered his room and let the door slide shut behind him.

The space greeted him with familiar indifference.

A single lower bunk bed pressed against the wall, its thin sheet stretched tight over a worn mattress that never quite warmed up. Cold air leaked constantly from somewhere he had never been able to locate, brushing against his skin like a reminder that comfort was optional here.

The ceiling panel above his bed was cracked in the same corner it had been for years. A hairline fracture spreading outward like frozen lightning. He had stared at it through countless sleepless nights, memorizing its shape because there was nothing else worth looking at.

The desk was bolted to the floor. The chair creaked when he touched it. The walls were dull gray, scratched and discolored from years of use. No displays. No personalization slots. No unnecessary features.

Class D housing was built for efficiency, not living.

Zayel dropped his bag and sat on the edge of the bed.

His thoughts drifted back to Tess without his permission.

Her room would be exactly the same.

The same thin bed. The same cold air. The same cracked panels.

She had lived in Class B dorms once. Spacious rooms. Warm lighting. Real furniture. Then Class C. Smaller, but still clean.

And now this.

He felt a flicker of guilt. Pity, maybe.

Then he shook his head.

Tess Calder did not look like someone who cared.

So he stopped thinking about her.

At least, he tried.

—

Hunger reminded him of itself soon after.

Zayel moved to the storage compartment embedded in the wall and pulled it open. Inside were the usual rations.

Food supplements.

Calling them food felt dishonest.

They came in sealed gray packs, nutrient-dense paste compressed into bars and gels. Designed to sustain the body, not satisfy it. No texture worth remembering. No flavor worth missing.

Class A and B students ate real meals. Heated plates. Synthesized meats. Vegetables grown in controlled towers.

Class C got real food occasionally. As a reward.

Class D got supplements.

Sometimes milk. Sometimes a pack of synthetic cookies on weekends, labeled as morale incentives.

Zayel tore open a supplement bar and ate slowly, chewing out of habit more than necessity. It filled his stomach without warmth, like everything else in his life.

When he finished, he wiped his hands and sat back.

He should sleep.

Instead, he hesitated.

He had something new now.

Xu.

Chip data vision.

He wanted to try it again. To adapt faster. To unlock the third mission.

He activated it.

The room remained empty.

No people. No chips. No data to observe.

He sighed, frustration slipping out before he could stop it.

Of course.

He was alone.

Defeated, he slumped back onto the bed and stared at the cracked ceiling.

Sleep came faster than usual.

And strangely, so did anticipation.

A new feeling stirred in him, strange and sharp.

Excitement.

Not for lessons. Not for school.

But for tomorrow.

For using his ability again.

The feeling unsettled him.

—

Zayel woke up before the alarm.

Before Nex could vibrate against his skull and flood his senses with mandatory wake signals.

He blinked, confused.

Then realized he was already awake.

That alone felt wrong.

He sat up slowly, heart beating faster than usual.

No warning tones.

No emotion suppression prompts.

His chip felt quiet.

Xu’s voice appeared warmly in his mind.

“Good morning, Zayel. I’m glad to see you’re excited.”

Zayel nodded to himself.

He stood and prepared for school with unusual energy. Washing his face. Adjusting his uniform. Moving faster than he ever had.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted briefly to his chip.

It felt strange.

Nex was still there. Still monitoring. Still recording.

But muted.

All his emotional data registered within normal ranges.

No flags.

No warnings.

Xu was masking him perfectly.

At school, Zayel entered the classroom and moved toward his seat as usual.

Then stopped.

Tess was already there.

Sitting beside him.

He blinked.

He was early today.

Earlier than yesterday.

Earlier than usual.

Remembering how he had blocked her path the night before, Zayel immediately looked away.

Tess did not acknowledge him.

She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed casually, posture relaxed like rules were suggestions.

Just like yesterday.

Zayel swallowed and forced his focus forward.

He did not look at her again.

He activated chip data vision quietly, concentrating on stabilizing it. Adjusting to the overlays. Filtering the noise. Training his perception.

He had a goal.

Unlock the third mission.

Today.

Whatever it took.