I cursed myself silently.
Not out of panic—panic's for people who don't know how to weaponize it—but out of frustration. Sharp, focused. The kind of irritation that sparks when you know you've missed a perfect opening.
Why the hell did I hesitate?
This was the perfect window. A loophole wide enough to slip through—and I hesitated.
The Bootcamp screamed system architecture. Coded walls. Permission-gated pathways. Environment nodes humming like servers. It was a cathedral of controlled chaos, practically begging to be hacked.
And I—Technomancer, with my hidden system Codebreaker, and a Hacker Talent at that—was the ghost in their machine.
[Systems Hacking – ACTIVATED]
[Codebreaker – Passive Subroutine Initiated]
The digital veil peeled back in layers, revealing the network beneath the structure's surface like arteries beneath skin. Firewalls shimmered as glowing sigils, permission keys fluttered in pulses of binary breath.
Each tunnel—each trial—was bound by logic rules. Coded constraints. I wasn't just walking into a challenge. I was walking into a program. And programs could be rewritten.
I slipped into the lattice quietly, threading my presence through lines of code. The system didn't scream or alert. No, this wasn't a brute-force attack. This was elegant misdirection. The same way you forge a signature on a permission slip.
The trick wasn't breaking through. It was convincing the system I belonged there more than anyone else.
What distinguishes me from the others? I chewed on the thought, fingers twitching as my neural link fed data in visual overlays. A flurry of stats. Permissions. Error logs. Entry protocols.
Then it hit me—sharp and satisfying.
I smirked.
Of course. Let's make Tunnel I a personal invitation. No +1s and unique only to me.
Gaius strutted toward Tunnel II like he was born for it, flexing swagger like it paid rent. The moment he crossed the sensor, a sharp glyph ignited above the threshold. A red pulse slashed down his body like a scanner at a security checkpoint.
"REJECTED. You are ineligible. Participants do not meet required conditions—"
The voice was sterile. Final. Like a guillotine.
Gaius blinked. Once. Twice. "There's gotta be something wrong with this scanner."
He laughed—forced and shaky. Genesis, his twin, frowned because she was also proved ineligible to 'participate' at Tunnel II.
From his position against the tunnel III's edge, Cason folded his arms. "Or maybe you're just not that special."
Gaius turned slowly, jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. "You saying I'm not qualified?"
Cason raised a brow. "Not me. The system said so."
Oof. That one hurt. I almost felt it from here.
Gaius muttered something under his breath and backed off, but not before shooting Cason a glare that could set metal on fire. Ego bruised. Pride dented.
Then it was Cason's turn.
He moved like he was used to the world parting before him. Steady, sure-footed. The sensor scanned him with a flicker of golden light.
"ELIGIBLE. Entry approved."
Cason tilted his head back toward Gaius, a ghost of a grin playing at his lips. "Guess I'm exactly what they're looking for."
He stepped through. Conrad followed with the same confident stride. But instead of continuing, the entryway blinked red again.
"Minimum Participants Not Met. Required: 7."
The bootcamp wasn't playing around. The rules were hard-coded.
A system window flared above the entry:
TUNNEL II ACCESS INTERFACE
Participants Accepted:
Cason Linus
Conrad Myre
REQUIRED TEAM SIZE: 7
CURRENT STATUS: INCOMPLETE
"Captain?" Conrad turned to Cason, unease twitching in his brow. "What now?"
Cason didn't answer. His gaze slid across the room—to me.
And to Mimi.
She was still standing beside me, fingers fidgeting at her side. She didn't move to join them. Not yet.
I saw the conflict in her eyes. Saw the part of her still loyal to her squad. Saw the part that hesitated.
She didn't know which path to follow—her captain's unspoken command to stand by me, or the system's rigid directive demanding her loyalty. Her brows knit in silent conflict.
Before Cason could respond, another system prompt bled across the tunnel gate in brilliant gold:
TUNNEL III PARAMETERS
AFFINITY: Plasma-Based Offense & Augmentation
RANK REQUIRED: S-Rank Minimum
COMBAT LOADOUT: Plasma-Class Weaponry
SKILL REQUIREMENTS: Energy Emission / Quantum Fission / Heat Field Control
ARMOR: Thermocore or Plasma Conduction
PARTICIPANTS: 7
ENVIRONMENT: Simulated Solar Storm
FRIENDLY FIRE: Extreme Risk
SURVIVAL RATE: 51%
Fifty-one percent.
That wasn't a challenge. That was a bloodbath.
I watched them pause.
Cason's brows furrowed, the weight of the system's conditions settling across his shoulders like lead. But before he could speak, a burst of mocking laughter echoed across the chamber.
Gaius stood near Tunnel II, arms folded, grinning like a man who'd just watched a rival trip face-first into a pit trap.
"Well, would you look at that," he said, voice laced with venomous amusement. "Seems our little Technomancer's on a solo ride. And judging by that survival rate…" He whistled low. "Fifty-one percent for a seven-member. Must be a real party in there."
He smirked wide, drinking in the tension. He knew Cason needed me alive for the Guardian Floor. It wasn't loyalty—it was strategy. Their alliance was a fragile, cold arrangement, forged by GAIA's directives, not trust. Watching Cason caught between mission protocol and personal disdain was clearly Gaius' idea of comedy.
I didn't rise to the bait. I just smiled to myself.
Laugh it up, Gaius. Keep feeding your ego. Because when I break the Guardian Floor—and I will—you'll choke on your own pride.
This was what I wanted. A solo run. No liabilities. No deadweight. No eyes watching over my shoulder. Just me, the system, and a battlefield begging to be broken.
Cason didn't take the mockery in stride.
"You done gloating?" he snapped. "Might wanna worry about how you're supposed to get past this floor instead of fantasizing about mine."
That wiped the smirk off Gaius' face. His eyes narrowed, body coiling as mana flared beneath his skin. He took a sharp step forward, fists clenched.
But before he could throw a punch, his twin, Genesis, stepped in like a shadow. Calm, poised, but with that signature chill in her voice.
"Gaius," she said, "this is a Rest Zone. Attack here, and the system won't just penalize you. It'll eject you."
He froze. The rage didn't fade, but it curled inward—seething behind his eyes like a storm trapped in a jar. He backed off with a sharp scoff, his glare now lethal.
Cason didn't waste another breath. He turned to Mimi.
"Mimi. Get over here."
She hesitated—her gaze flicking to me, then back to her captain. Torn for a heartbeat. Then she stepped away, quiet but decisive.
Cason gave me one last look. "We'll figure out a way to get you through to the next floor. Just don't die."
I tilted my head. "No promises."
With Mimi joining, the rest of the G.O.D. squad regrouped at the Tunnel II platform. As the final member stepped within range, the scanner system came alive.
"Conditions and quota met. Proceeding to Bootcamp."
The barrier dissolved in a soft pulse of light. Without ceremony, the squad stepped through—swallowed by the dark mouth of Tunnel II.
The moment the last boot cleared the threshold, the barrier slammed back into place with a sharp hum.
Just like that, I was alone.
Perfect.