Xandar's Primary Education System was thorough, holistic, and designed to cultivate productive citizens of the Nova Empire. Sixteen standardized levels of development, each spanning a year or more, building minds with cultural, scientific, ethical, and physical refinement. The average citizen graduated at age twenty-two.
Kalen Katagawa did it in three days.
Well, technically, he completed the last sixteen levels in three days. The first four? That took... a week.
Not because they were hard. No, they were laughably easy. He spent that week arguing.
"I'm not doing the damn worksheets," Kalen had said, arms folded, voice petulant in the principal's office. "Give me the finals."
Principal Terrox, a thick-necked Kree-Xandarian hybrid with eyes like molten copper, blinked at the boy. "Excuse me?"
Kalen leaned forward, already annoyed. "You heard me, chief. Give me the final tests for each grade. If I pass, I move on. If I fail, then I'll do your dusty little curriculum."
The faculty snorted. Some whispered arrogant brat behind his back. But Principal Terrox, amused more than anything, relented. "Fine. Let the genius kid have his finals. We'll see how long the show lasts."
And so it began.
Three days.
Sixteen grades. Crushed.
Not just passed—obliterated.
The educators of Xandar watched in horror and fascination as a six-year-old child not only completed high-level mathematics and planetary ethics but also aced specialized fields like Space-Time Theory, Hydro-Nuclear Power Management, Advanced Nova Tactics, and AI-Infrastructure Ethics.
By the end of day three, Kalen casually tossed down the last exam packet—Nova Empire Constitutional Crisis Scenarios—and yawned.
"Boring," he muttered.
Meanwhile, his mother, Kailean, paced frantically in the corridor of the campus administration building. Her hands clenched and unclenched around a neural pad, which she had dropped five times already.
She had just finished reading her son's progress report—if it could even be called that. No grades. Just a single, terrifying note:
Kalen Katagawa has successfully completed all educational tiers of Xandarian society.
She read it again.
Still real.
She leaned against the wall, eyes wide. "Did I... Did I push him too hard? Is it because they bullied him? Oh stars, my poor baby..."
Memories surged—Kalen coming home with bruises. Quiet at dinner. Crying once. Just once.
And now this.
Back inside the testing room, Kalen leaned back in his chair, legs swinging lazily, fingers tapping the surface of the holo-desk.
"Done," he announced.
The proctor, a robotic overseer designed for objective test monitoring, chirped in alarm. "Confirming final completion... validating... validating... validation confirmed. Subject Kalen Katagawa has completed all academic tiers. Status: Eligible for Adulthood Review."
The principal nearly dropped his data tablet. "Wh-what?"
Kalen smirked. "Told you. I want my diploma, my citizenship, and preferably my own property sector. Maybe with a view."
Principal Terrox walked in, jaw slack. "I... I have to report this to Nova Prime. This—this has never happened."
Kalen shrugged, hopping down from the chair. "Better get on that, chief. I've got plans."
He walked out like he owned the school.
Outside, Kailean rushed to him and dropped to her knees, hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry, sweety," she sobbed. "I didn't realize you hated school this much. I can't believe you passed everything just to get away from it."
Kalen froze.
He wanted to say something—something snarky. That he did it because he was a genius. Because wasting time with social assignments and friendship seminars made his brain bleed. That he wasn't some bullied, broken child. He was Katagawa Jr., damn it. He ran Maliwan.
But Kailean was crying.
Genuinely.
And she wasn't accusing him. She wasn't mocking him. She thought she was the problem.
"I mean…" he muttered, eyes flicking away. "I do hate it here, but that's a bit much…"
His arms moved on their own.
He hugged her.
And in that instant, Kailean squeezed him tighter.
Kalen had a brief moment of regret as her massive—peaks—pressed against his face. Katagawa Jr., in his original form, would have been salivating. But Kalen's body? His mind, now laced with a childhood's worth of new memories and instincts?
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
Just the warmth of a woman who actually cared.
It was confusing as hell.
Kailean stroked his hair, still crying. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Kalen. You're already brilliant. You're already enough."
He bit back the urge to say, "I am everything." Because weirdly… that line didn't quite fit right now.
The next day, Kalen stood in the Nova Prime Executive Hall.
This room had seen emperors, assassins, conquerors, and peacemakers. The pillars glowed with neural energy. The gold-blue crest of the Nova Corps adorned every wall. Holographic archives drifted like ancient spirits in the air.
At the far end of the platform sat Nova Prime Irani Rael, regal and stern, her robes woven with coded light. Her golden eyes locked on Kalen the second he walked in.
A single chair waited at the center of the room. One seat. One spotlight.
Kalen walked to it slowly, arms behind his back, posture perfect.
He didn't feel nervous.
He felt… prepared.
Nova Prime leaned forward. "Young man, your accomplishment is nothing short of historic. We have never seen a student complete our world's entire educational system so quickly."
Kalen said nothing.
She continued, "Xandarian law allows any citizen who completes their education to petition for adult status, regardless of age."
He nodded. "I'm here to petition."
Nova Prime's brow rose. "And what would you do with adulthood, little one?"
Kalen's lips twitched. A smirk—not quite Katagawa's old sneer, but close.
She narrowed her eyes.
Then came the question.
The one that would define everything.
"What do you plan to do with your... adulthood?"