Seyfe's mind raced with frustration as he stepped away from the platform, his head low, trying to avoid drawing any more attention to himself. The laughter in his earpiece only made his discomfort worse, the cadet voices echoing in the back of his mind as if mocking his every step.
"Did you see that? Classic fall, Seyfe!" one cadet's voice rang through the earpiece, followed by a burst of snickers from the others.
"Seriously, what happened, did he trip over air?" another added, the laughter still audible.
Seyfe gritted his teeth, refusing to respond. He wasn't going to let them see him crack, not even in the face of such humiliation. With his head low, he walked toward a nearby tree that offered a bit of shade, hoping to make himself less conspicuous as he continued his observation. He moved as carefully as he could, every step measured and deliberate. His focus was still on the training session happening nearby, on Jannet's disciplined commands as her squadron continued with their drills.
The sun beat down mercilessly, but the small patch of shade from the tree was a welcome relief. Seyfe stood there for a moment, catching his breath, before he noticed a series of ropes tied to the branches above—an easy climb to a higher vantage point. He could use the height to better observe the squadron and regain some control over the situation.
Without thinking much further, he grabbed the ropes and began to climb. The motion was slow and methodical, his grip tight on the knots as his feet found footholds on the tree trunk. The higher he climbed, the more he felt like he was escaping from the prying eyes and the judgmental voices in his earpiece. Up here, it was just him, his thoughts, and the distant sound of Jannet's commands below.
The higher vantage point allowed him a better view of Jannet and her squadron as they worked through drills—efficient, precise, and disciplined. He couldn't help but respect the way she carried herself. It was clear that Spearhead Squadron's approach to training was worlds apart from what the Overseer Squadron had been put through. Jannet was a different kind of leader, one who thrived in the controlled chaos of a battlefield, and it was evident in her squadron's movements.
But Seyfe wasn't there to get caught up in admiration. He wasn't there to learn from Jannet. His job was to observe, take notes, and stay out of the way. The training, the squadron, Jannet—they were all just part of the mission. But the sting of being the joke of the squad still hadn't left him. He could still hear the occasional chuckle in his earpiece.
"Can we get a closer look at Seyfe up there?" one cadet joked.
"Yeah, I bet he's getting a good look at his future... as a tree-dweller," another one added, earning more laughter.
Seyfe's grip tightened on the rope, his jaw clenched. He knew they were just playing around, but it didn't make the comments sting any less. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, his patience was wearing thin.
"Focus," he muttered to himself, pushing the voices aside and trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
The sun was beginning to dip lower, and Seyfe continued his silent watch. The day was far from over, and with the constant mockery and ridicule, he had to keep his head on straight. But the longer he spent in that tree, alone with his thoughts and the noise of his fellow cadets in his ear, the harder it became to ignore the pressure building inside him.
As the sun began to set and the last of the cadets filtered out of the training ground, Seyfe felt a sense of eerie satisfaction wash over him. His gaze swept over the training area, now deserted, as the echoes of the cadets' laughter still rang faintly in his mind. He'd been humiliated, mocked, and treated like the punchline of some sick joke. But now, it was time to flip the script.
He crouched low, watching the last few cadets leave the field, before quietly making his way to a secluded corner where he had stashed his supplies—a can of oil and a jar of cockroaches. The cockroaches shifted and scuttled inside the glass jar, their legs tapping against the sides as if sensing the grim purpose they were about to fulfill.
Seyfe smirked to himself. The plan was simple, really. He had been quietly observing his fellow cadets for hours. Most of them had settled in high vantage points, perched on pillars or tucked into trees—just like him. They were too comfortable, too cocky in their positions. Now, it was time to level the playing field.
"Right, this would be great," Seyfe whispered to himself, crouching beside the trees.
With careful precision, Seyfe began with the trees. He slathered the oil along the trunks, ensuring it was slick enough to make climbing almost impossible for anyone who dared to return tomorrow. The oil would make the surfaces unbearably slippery, causing anyone trying to scale the tree to lose their grip and fall, just like he had earlier.
But that wasn't the worst part.
As he unscrewed the jar of cockroaches, Seyfe's eyes gleamed with dark amusement. He reached inside and carefully started to release the roaches onto the oil-soaked trunks, letting them scatter across the bark. The insects would find their way into every nook and cranny, their tiny legs tapping as they spread across the surface. He could almost picture the chaos that would unfold.
"Perfect," Seyfe muttered under his breath, watching as the cockroaches found their way up the tree, crawling across the oil and into every crevice. The sight was almost hypnotic, the insects moving as if on command.
The next target was the pillars. He moved quickly, dousing the stone structures in more oil and releasing the cockroaches to swarm over the surfaces. The insects would make it impossible for any cadet to scale the pillar without triggering a cascade of chaos—slippery surfaces and crawling bugs, a nightmare for anyone trying to maintain their composure.
Seyfe stood back and admired his handiwork. Tomorrow, when the cadets returned to the training ground, they'd be in for a rude awakening. They would find the trees and pillars impossible to climb. The sight of cockroaches crawling over every surface would be enough to make even the bravest cadet hesitate.
"And just like that," Seyfe whispered, wiping his hands clean of the oil. "I'll show them what it feels like to be humiliated."
With one last glance at the training grounds, Seyfe left the area, his steps light and calculated. He couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when they realized they had walked into his trap. The next day would be his payback, and he was ready for the chaos to unfold.
The morning sun cast a dim glow over the training grounds as the Spearhead Squadron cadets began their usual drills. Their footsteps echoed across the field, seemingly confident, as they moved into their positions, unaware of the subtle changes Seyfe had set in motion the night before.
Seyfe, alongside the other Overseer cadets, took their designated spots, watching from the shadows. Their role was simple: observe, record, and report. But today, Seyfe was playing a different game. The Overseer squadron cadets, who made a joke of him earlier and laughed at his attempts to return back, were now his targets.
As the Spearhead cadets began their routine, Seyfe waited for the perfect moment. His eyes scanned the area, noting the positions of the other Overseer cadets—his fellow observers who were positioned on tree trunks, pillars, and scattered throughout the field.
It began as the Overseer cadets began to make their way to their observation posts, where they perched, looking smug in their roles. Their chatter filled Seyfe's earpiece, each comment about their better positions, their superior vantage points, and the fleeting thoughts of how they were not involving themselves in physical torture.
"Men, I wish I was closer to those beauties."
"Right? I'd die to be on this squad instead of Overseer... Aki's a damn piece of art, but I wouldn't mind being closer to Emi."
Seyfe let out a quiet scoff, barely containing his irritation. He could feel his pulse quicken as he mentally set the plan into motion. It was simple enough: his fellow cadets had no idea what awaited them.
The drills started as usual, but soon, things began to feel a bit... off. The first Overseer cadet, perched atop a tree trunk, leaped to scale it higher for a better view. His hands slipped. He fumbled for grip and lost his footing, tumbling backward into the dirt with a loud crash.
"Did he just fall?" one of the Spearhead cadets shouted, their voices filled with confusion.
Before they could register the incident, another Overseer cadet, positioned on a pillar, slipped. His body flailed as he tried to catch himself, but he too fell into the dirt with a heavy thud.
Seyfe, from his position, hid a small grin. The oil he had carefully applied to the pillars and tree trunks was doing its work, making climbing or jumping nearly impossible without a slip.
As the Overseer cadets continued to try to regain their footing, the chaos slowly intensified. But that wasn't the worst part. The real nightmare was yet to come.
Just as Seyfe had planned, the cockroaches began to emerge. Tiny creatures, scuttling over the ground, climbing up the walls of the training area. They spread across the pillars, the trees, and soon, the Overseer cadets were swatting at the insects in a frantic panic.
The screams of discomfort and disgust flooded the earpiece.
"What the hell?!" one cadet shouted as he slapped at his boot, trying to rid himself of the creeping insects.
Another cadet, attempting to brush away the roaches, found his hands trembling as they crawled up his arm.
"Oh no... not this... not now!" Yet another cadet, having just gained footing on a tree trunk, suddenly froze as a cockroach landed on his face.
Seyfe watched from his vantage point, barely able to suppress the satisfaction bubbling within him.
The chaos was palpable. The Spearhead cadets, unaffected by the spectacle, merely watched in confusion, wondering why the Overseer cadets were falling apart. Their mission was simple: observe. Yet it was their own failure that was unfolding before them.
Jannet Dwight, in the middle of her squad's routine, had noticed the confusion growing amongst the Overseer cadets. Her eyes flicked toward the commotion but didn't immediately react. She was too composed, too focused on the task at hand to let her squad be distracted by the antics of the Overseer cadets.
Seyfe, however, was reveling in the moment. The Overseer cadets, their roles as watchers and recorders, had become the observed. Their panic was his triumph. Their pride had crumbled under the weight of their own discomfort.
The drills continued, but the Overseer cadets' focus had shattered. Some were still struggling to climb, while others were swatting at cockroaches and wiping oil from their hands. It was a spectacle of disarray.
Finally, when the chaos reached its peak, Jannet's voice rang out, commanding order, trying to salvage what was left of the drill.
"Alright! Enough!" she barked. "Everyone back to formation! Move it!"
The once-controlled drill had descended into chaos, with the Overseer cadets looking every bit as lost as the cadets they were supposed to observe.
Seyfe leaned against a nearby wall, watching the aftermath unfold with a sense of quiet satisfaction. The Overseer cadets had been humiliated, and he had finally delivered the payback he'd been waiting for.
With the field finally returning to some semblance of order, Seyfe allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile. His plan had worked. And in the end, it was more than just a prank—it was a message.