Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 32: The Bald Girl

Chapter 32: The Bald Girl

"You are so weak," Vivian remarked with disdain.

Then she turned to Mandy and Zinnia, saying, "Let’s go. You heard the instructor; he said if we don’t reach the finish line by noon, we’ll get our heads shaved."

"She’s right," Lyra said, giving Zinnia a gentle push. "Go ahead, I’ll catch up soon."

As the group hurried away, Lyra took a moment to use her superpower to regain some strength. She focused, using her power to protect her lungs and force herself to keep running.

She hadn’t made it more than five hundred meters when a pigeon robot flew overhead, its eyes glowing red.

"Unauthorized use of superpowers, first warning," the robot intoned.

Lyra sighed, stopped using her powers, and pulled out Schedar, creating a simple support frame to conserve energy.

The robot’s eyes flashed red again. "Unauthorized use of auxiliary tools, second warning."

The cold, mechanical voice made her clench her fists.

Just then, Instructor Webber’s voice came through the robot’s speakers, "Lyra, you sure are bold."

She looked up, unflinching. "I’d rather shave my head than collapse from exhaustion."

With the robot hovering above her, continuously issuing warnings, Lyra kept running.

As she passed older students, they looked on, surprised and somewhat admiring her gutsy determination.

When she finally crossed the finish line, she collapsed to the ground, coughing hard.

Her exhausted classmates stared at her, speechless.

"Fall in!" Webber barked, and everyone quickly assembled.

Lyra slowly made her way to her spot.

Just as she steadied herself, Webber called out, "Lyra!"

"Here," she replied weakly, stepping forward.

Webber, surprisingly amused, said, "Should I thank you for making it to the finish line?"

Lyra, feeling a bit annoyed but trying to keep her cool, responded, "No, sir. I moved myself here because the cafeteria is closer from here. It’ll be easier for me to grab a meal later."

Despite her exhaustion, she still had an appetite.

Some of the students, including Zinnia, couldn’t help chuckling, yet they quickly silenced themselves as Webber gave them a stern look.

Webber then pulled out a razor, smirking. "You said you’d rather shave your head than die from exhaustion."

The students widened their eyes in disbelief. ’Is he serious?’

Vivian, in particular, touched her hair in horror, feeling relieved she had completed the task. She couldn’t help but feel a bit smug.

Lyra, seeing the shiny razor, undid her ponytail and turned around, unbothered by being made an example.

As the razor buzzed across her scalp, her dull yellow hair fell to the ground, exposing her pale skin beneath.

Some of the girls gasped and covered their mouths, horrified at the thought of losing their own hair.

As Lyra stood with her freshly shaved head, the group burst into laughter. Jorath laughed the loudest, shouting to the others, "Doesn’t she look like a boiled egg? Ugly!"

A few people shot him disapproving looks. It was funny that Lyra had shaved her head, but Jorath’s comment seemed unnecessarily harsh.

Thierry, with a serious expression, spoke up, "I think it’s kind of cute, like a Barbie doll without hair yet."

Zinnia, trying to lighten the mood, quickly agreed, "Exactly, she’ll look better than any of us once her hair grows back."

Lyra touched her head, feeling the cool breeze, and remarked, "It feels pretty good, actually."

Vivian covered her mouth, chuckling, "As long as you’re happy with it."

Freida came to the front of the group. Even though she already knew about Lyra’s shaved head, her calm lips twisted a bit when she saw it.

"We need to choose class officers. Anyone want to volunteer?" she asked.

Almost everyone raised their hands, including Zinnia and Vivian.

After voting, Thierry was chosen as the head student, with other positions like cultural and academic officers filled as well.

At twelve-twenty, Webber announced the training location for the afternoon at one o’clock, and they were finally allowed to go eat.

In the crowded cafeteria, Lyra’s shiny bald head drew a lot of attention.

Even at NMA, known for its bold and wild reputation, it was rare to see a girl with a shaved head, especially someone as petite and delicate-looking as Lyra.

Some people snapped pictures and posted them on the campus forum, quickly catching attention.

"A new student from Combat School, super brave and cute..." read one caption. The picture showed a young woman running with a monitoring robot hovering above her, issuing constant warnings, her expression stoic.

"Whoa, isn’t that the girl with the shaved head from the cafeteria?" another post questioned.

This confirmation quickly put her on the campus forum’s trending list.

"Is this year’s troublemaker from Combat School really this unique? And she’s totally my type!"

"Isn’t she the one with high scores in all other subjects except for physical fitness? Where she only got four points?"

So, the whole school soon knew about her struggle with physical stamina.

While eating, Lyra noticed more and more people staring at her. Her tablemates, Zinnia and the others, had strange expressions after checking the forum. They quickly guessed the reason and hurried through their meals.

In a quiet campus, even the smallest bit of gossip could cause a stir.

After eating, when they got to the training ground and still had some time, Lyra sat on a mat, browsing the campus forum.

"Lyra, don’t worry about it," Zinnia said, linking Lyra’s small size with her own perception that Lyra was fragile.

Lyra didn’t respond, so Zinnia leaned over to see. "Huh? Why are you looking at posts from the Research Institute? Are you... Are you planning to hack the campus forum?"

"Just curious," Lyra said, staring intently at a particular post. Then she quickly closed her opticomputer as the instructor arrived.

"For the next week, we’ll be doing weighted long-distance running in the mornings and shooting training in the afternoons," Webber announced. "Now, I’ll explain the features of the gun we’ll be training with today—the m12."

Everyone sat on the ground, paying close attention.

"The head student, please demonstrate," Webber continued.

"Yes, sir," Thierry responded, standing up to take the m12. This micro-pistol was standard issue for every officer in the Alliance and was one of the most common pistols available. Its shooting speed, range, and other features were average, making it ideal for beginners.

BANG! BANG! BANG! After three shots, the targets at three hundred meters showed scores of nine, nine, and ten.

Webber was impressed. ’As expected from someone from the Whyte family,’ he thought.

"Now, everyone practice on your own. The final test requires an average score of five rings. Those who don’t pass will have extra training tonight!"

Some students, like Mandy, who had never handled weapons before, looked anxious at the requirement.

Despite their worries, everyone at Combat School was among the top Peculiars in the Alliance. Their psychokinesis would help them quickly adapt to learning and combat.

At five-thirty, it was time for the assessment.

"First group, numbers one to ten."

Lyra was fifth in line, right next to Jorath.

"Lyra, want to take a bet? Let’s compete," Jorath glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Honestly, competing with a wimp would be a shame for me."

Lyra shot him a cold look, unfazed by his contradictory taunt.

At the instructor’s signal, Lyra’s hands moved with lightning speed, assembling the parts in a blur.

Jorath glanced over, a flicker of anxiety in his eyes.

By the time he finished assembling his gun, Lyra had already picked up the m12 and fired, completing the process two seconds faster than Thierry had.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The target’s bullseye displayed three holes in a perfect triangle, the smoke still lingering.

Webber noted down the three perfect scores, thinking, ’Gosh, is she for real? Or am I just seeing things?’

After disassembling her gun, Lyra glanced at Jorath, whose face was twisted in frustration, and quietly said two words: "Wimp."