Good Aim

Jorath lay in the treatment pod, trying to get some sympathy from his grandfather during the video call.

Patrick Shedd didn't waste any time. "How did you get hurt?" he asked.

Jorath, too embarrassed to admit he got beaten by some "weak" girl, mumbled, "I got injured during pre-training."

His recent field training didn't go well, and he wanted to give his family a heads-up.

Patrick guessed as much and frowned. "How could you make such a rookie mistake? Did your cousin, Erin, teach you nothing during the training?"

"Don't bring it up, Grandpa. You have no idea how brutal NMA is. If I were at EPMA, it wouldn't be this bad."

Complaining to his caring grandfather, Jorath vented his frustrations. If he hadn't come to this lousy school, he wouldn't have crossed paths with that brat Lyra.

Patrick sighed, speaking earnestly, "First, you upset your Grandpa Ansel. Second, with your cousins shining at Elden Prime, how could you stand out?"