I’ll be the Red Ranger
Chapter 113 – 80… what?

- Oliver -

| Approved

Oliver sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, processing Isabela's outcome. A surge of excitement coursed through him. 'Wow!' he thought, a broad grin spreading across his face as he settled back into his seat.

His gauntlet vibrated softly, alerting him to new messages in their group chat. He raised his wrist, the translucent interface illuminating with notifications.

---

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[BellaRedFanGirl]: Oh my god! I don't know what to think!!!

[BellaRedFanGirl]: I'm being taken to select my division. I'll update you all as soon as I'm done.

[OliverKR]: Nice! Don't worry; it's still going to take ages here.

[KathSaysHi]: No kidding, They've just reached number 200.

---

Oliver chuckled softly at their exchanges. Numbers were progressing slowly, and with no familiar names being announced, Oliver found his attention waning. Deciding to pass the time, he tapped into the NET app to see the public's reaction to Isabela's result.

As he accessed the main feed, the trending tag #MissileGirl immediately caught his eye. The nickname had stuck since Isabela's display in the previous trial. As he watched, comments were pouring in, lines of text updating in real-time.

"Impressive! She's really going to become a Ranger."

"Yellow Ranger might not be the most prestigious, but with her synchronization level, she's set for greatness."

"My uncle told me that 50% is good, 60% is exceptional, and 70% is the stuff of legends. Anything above that usually requires years of training."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at that last comment. He wasn't sure how accurate those figures were, but it was clear that Isabela's performance was turning heads. He continued scrolling, absorbing the mix of speculation and acclaim. The public seemed captivated by her potential—her high synchronization with the Yellow Division fueled plenty of discussions.

For a few minutes, Oliver lost himself in the online thread. Seeing how quickly news spread and how eagerly people dissected every detail was fascinating.

His contemplation was interrupted when his peripheral vision caught movement on the stage. A new candidate was stepping onto the platform. Oliver glanced up, momentarily setting aside his gauntlet.

"Number 1513," Quinn's voice resonated throughout the arena.

Oliver's eyes immediately locked onto the young man, making his way to the center. Tall and powerfully built, his head was completely shaved, revealing a tattoo on the side of his scalp. It was Kyle—a figure hard to forget.

'So, you made it through as well,' Oliver mused, watching Kyle's confident stride.

Kyle moved with unwavering assurance. His focus was unbroken as he headed straight toward the official standing beside the evaluation crystal. Without a hint of hesitation, he placed his hand upon the shimmering sphere. The crystal reacted as it had with the others, pulsing with a brilliant light.

Above them, the holographic display flickered to life, projecting his synchronization percentages:

? Yellow Division - 3%

? Blue Division - 6%

? Red Division - 28%

⬛️ Black Division - 53%

? Pink Division - 6%

The outcome was clear and unequivocal.

| Approved

'Is he aiming for the Red Division as well?' Oliver wondered. ‘All the heirs of houses seem to have the same goal.'

"Perhaps," Athena's voice echoed softly in his mind. "But he would fare better joining the Black Division; it suits him more."

'Why is that?' Oliver inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Each division is aligned with a specific type of crystal," Athena explained. "And each crystal has preferences for its users—ranging from their combat style to their very temperament. His demeanor suggests he's someone the Black Crystal would favor."

'You speak as if the crystals have minds of their own,' Oliver remarked, a hint of skepticism in his thoughts.

Athena offered no reply, leaving his question to hang in the silence of his mind.

Oliver's gaze followed Kyle as he was led away from the arena floor.

Leaning back in his seat, Oliver contemplated Athena's words. The notion that the crystals themselves could influence or choose their wielders was both fascinating and unsettling. He realized there was still so much about this system that he didn't understand.

Amidst the sea of candidates being called, Oliver did notice several faces he recognized but whose names eluded him—a boy who had been part of Damian's group during the test on GL581, for instance. Yet it wasn't until Quinn announced "Number 3164" that a familiar figure stepped forward, stirring a mix of surprise and nostalgia within him.

From one of the far sections emerged a girl with striking, fiery red hair cascading down her back. A deep scar etched across her face interrupted her otherwise porcelain complexion, culminating in a mechanical eye that gleamed under the arena's lights. Astrid. It had been a long time since Oliver had seen her—ever since his six months in confinement, their paths hadn't crossed. Despite the distance that had grown between them, he felt a flicker of warmth. After all, it was Astrid who had taken the time to help him hone his combat skills; he owed much of his progress to her mentorship.

With a resolute expression, Astrid strode toward the central platform. Her movements were measured, almost methodical, betraying none of the nerves that others had displayed. Reaching the colossal crystal, she placed her hand upon its smooth surface without hesitation.

The crystal responded instantly, pulsating with a vibrant inner light that seemed to sync with an unseen rhythm. Above, the holographic display sprang to life, digits, and percentages flickering into existence:

? Yellow Division - 2%

? Blue Division - 7%

? Red Division - 21%

⬛️ Black Division - 42%

? Pink Division - 52%

| Approved

A murmur rippled through the spectators. Astrid remained impassive, her face a mask of stoicism. Oliver couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for her.

'Does her personality really fit with the Pink Division?' he mused, directing his thoughts inward toward Athena. 'Shouldn't she need to be aligned with medical operations? Her boon don't seem to match that at all.'

Athena's voice resonated softly within his mind. "Medical operations encompass more than healing," she explained. "They involve rescue missions, crisis management, the transport of critical resources. Ultimately, the Pink Crystal values those who can make sound decisions under pressure. Astrid embodies that decisiveness. Still, she also shows strong alignment with the Black Crystal."

"What exactly does each crystal seek in a person?" Oliver pondered. "Are there specific characteristics they look for?"

But Athena offered no further insight, leaving his question to linger unanswered.

"Number 4288," Quinn announced, pulling Oliver's attention back to the arena.

A slender boy with an air of quiet elegance began his descent toward the central platform. A long scar stretched from one eye to the other, giving him a contemplative, almost haunted appearance. 'So he made it through as well,' Oliver thought. 'Damian Nemo.'

Unlike the others, Damian seemed hesitant. His steps were tentative, and there was a slight tremor in his hands as he approached the crystal. Placing his palm on the glowing surface, he closed his eyes.

The holographic display updated.

? Yellow Division - 12%

? Blue Division - 52%

? Red Division - 19%

⬛️ Black Division - 9%

? Pink Division - 0%

The verdict:

| Approved

'Just barely,' Oliver thought.

"Number 5122." Minutes later, Quinn called the last person Oliver knew in the arena.

Oliver felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere as he scanned the stadium. His gaze settled on Katherine. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her. She moved with an air of regal confidence, her posture straight, eyes focused intently ahead. As she reached the platform, the usual whispers among the recruits hushed to an anticipatory silence.

Katherine approached the crystal, placing her hand gently upon it. She closed her eyes, a serene expression settling over her features. Time seemed to stretch thin; Oliver felt his heartbeat echo in his ears, each pulse matching the throbbing glow of the crystal.

Digits began to materialize on the holographic display, incrementing slowly as if building suspense:

? Yellow Division - 22%

? Blue Division - 9%

? Red Division - 71%

⬛️ Black Division - 12%

? Pink Division - 20%

The moment the number for the Red Division appeared, the stadium erupted in a wave of astonished exclamations.

"Seventy-one percent?!"

"Is that even possible? No one else has broken seventy percent!"

"Figures—it had to be a princess. Those from the Great Houses always have an edge."

Oliver shared their astonishment. Despite the myriad evaluations he'd witnessed, none had reached such a high level of synchronization. A mix of awe and admiration welled up within him.

Katherine opened her eyes as the final verdict illuminated above her:

| Approved

A faint smile touched Katherine’s lips, but she remained composed. An official gestured for her to proceed, and she gracefully descended from the platform, disappearing from view as she was led toward the next stage.

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[BellaRedFanGirl]: I just saw the broadcast, congratulations!

[BellaRedFanGirl]: Come on, Oliver, you're the only one left now.

[OliverKR]: Don't worry; my number's coming soon.

[KathSaysHi]: We're all waiting for you. Good luck!

---

The procession of candidates continued, each name called, bringing Oliver's turn ever closer. With each passing moment, his heartbeat seemed to grow louder in his ears. He tried to steady his breathing, but anticipation coursed through him like an electric current.

"Number 6121," Quinn's voice announced crisply, echoing throughout the arena.

Oliver rose to his feet, his legs feeling both light and leaden. He began his descent down the steps, moving toward the center of the arena. The vastness of the stadium seemed to shrink around him, focusing all attention on his solitary figure.

"I will do fine. I will do fine," Oliver repeated under his breath, each word a silent affirmation.

As he approached the platform, the full gravity of the moment settled upon him. The five Generals sat before him, their gazes sharp and appraising. Their presence was a blend of authority and power that weighed heavily in the air. For a fleeting moment, he felt like an artifact on display, subjected to scrutiny and judgment.

The arena was bathed in brilliant light, with spotlights converging onto the central stage. Above, dozens of drones hovered silently, their lenses trained on him, capturing every movement and expression.

Oliver stepped forward toward the crystal at the center of the platform. He reached out and placed his palm against the cool surface, fingers splayed. Closing his eyes, he waited.

Unlike the exam at the Academy’s entrance, there was no energy being drawn from him. Instead, a gentle warmth spread from the point of contact, and drowsiness seeped into his limbs. His eyelids grew heavy, and as he gave in to the sensation, the world around him faded.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a vast chamber that seemed both ancient and timeless. The walls were adorned with elaborate carvings and symbols he couldn’t figure out. At the far end of the chamber stood a throne.

Seated upon it was a woman of striking presence. She appeared as if sculpted from starlight and shadow, her form both solid and ethereal. Golden armor adorned her, intricate designs etched into the metal, glinting softly. Her hair was a deep sapphire blue, cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of twilight. It moved gently as if stirred by an unseen breeze. Her eyes met his—pools of profound depth, filled with the wisdom of ages and the mysteries of the universe.

"I told you that you would be OK," her voice resonated, echoing not in the chamber but within his very mind.

Before Oliver could utter any word, the chamber dissolved around him.

His eyes snapped open to the deafening roar of the arena. The sound hit him like a wave, a cacophony of gasps, whispers, and exclamations. Blinking against the sudden brightness, he glanced around in confusion. The atmosphere had shifted dramatically—the energy in the air was electric. Even the gaze of the Generals was one of disbelief.

Above him, the result was presented on the hologram.

? Yellow Division - 18%

? Blue Division - 82%

? Red Division - 20%

⬛️ Black Division - 0%

? Pink Division - 0%

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