I woke up to the sound of an engine. I was in the back of a military truck, my hands cuffed to the wall.
I realized I wasn't alone. Across from me were other prisoners, also chained to the cold metal walls. The truck swayed as it rolled, and someone beside me coughed blood.
Then the screen blinked to life again.
[Vigor: 1.12%]
[Strength: 3]
[Speed: 4]
[Endurance: 4]
[Regeneration: 10]
I stared at the glowing text as excitement shot through me. The guard's beating had done this. I could already feel a difference in my body, my muscles denser, tighter and stronger. My body was changing at a pace I could never have achieved, even if I worked out for days straight.
I tried wrestling the cuffs, but they wouldn't budge.
"Take it easy there, Red. You can't break those off. They're made from beast cores," a voice said beside me.
It was a girl's voice . It was rough, hoarse and worn down. I turned to look at her. She was covered in grease and filth, blood dried on her lips, and she looked starved.
"Where are they taking us?" I asked.
"To Base 7," she whispered weakly. "Save your strength. You'll need it."
"For what?" I asked.
She didn't answer at first. For a second, I thought she'd used her last breath just to talk to me.
Then, barely audible, she said, "I'm Ciri."
"Zeke," I replied.
The truck hit a bump, jolting us up both. Then it stopped.
"Why have we stopped?" I asked, but none of the other prisoners reacted. They didn't even look worried, like this had happened before.
"We've probably run into a beast," Ciri said quietly. "Possibly a low-grade one."
Outside, I heard shouting, soldiers yelling, weapons firing and something roaring. The sound of combat raged for almost ten minutes before it finally went silent.
A minute later, the truck started moving again, heading toward Base 7.It took us a full week of traveling just to reach Base 8.
During that time, we were never allowed outside the trucks. Even when the soldiers stopped to rest, we stayed chained to the walls like animals.
Food and water were forced into our mouths, and our restraints were never loosened. I couldn't learn much about Ciri or the others; everyone's health was deteriorating fast. Two people died before we even reached Base 8. Their bodies were dragged out like savage dogs, and we never saw them again.
The pain from being tied up for days, the hunger gnawing at my stomach, it all became fuel. The system rewarded me for surviving it.
By the time we reached Base 8, my attributes had almost doubled.
[Vigor: 2% ]
[Strength: 5]
[Speed: 7]
[Endurance: 6]
[Regeneration: 15]
[Agility: 6]
[Stamina: 7]
Only when we reached Base 8 were we finally allowed outside. Most of the prisoners had to be carried out, they were too weak to walk. I pretended to need help too, not wanting to draw attention.
They led us into a massive military train station. That's when I saw how many of us there really were. Thousands of prisoners from Base 9, all wearing the same shackles.
Among us, a few stood out, the volunteers. They were treated a little better than us, but not by much. From Base 8, more prisoners were added, thousands more, and barely fifty new volunteers.
We were packed into a military train powered by beast cores, a marvel of post-Tide technology. The soldiers bragged about it - how its anti-beast cannons ran on mana, how it could outrun even a Class C Beast.
The journey to Base 7 would take two days.
Two days of being chained again, fed through tubes, and treated like cattle on a train bound for hell.
At long last, we arrived at Base 7.
We didn't even get the chance to see the city. The moment the train stopped, we were herded straight into a military facility - high walls, floodlights, soldiers on every corner with rifles ready.
There, they gave us what they called a "meal." Barley and dried fish. Still, for most of us, it was the first decent food we'd had in our entire lives.
People ate in silence, some trembling, some crying quietly as they chewed. But even as I ate, I knew one thing for sure, the government never gave out kindness for free.
There was a catch. There was always a catch. And soon, we'd find out what it was.
Whispers spread down the rows of prisoners.
"Are we going to the Red Islands with the volunteers?" someone asked. No one had an answer.
The soldiers moved around us like shadows, faceless behind their helmets. One of them barked orders, another shouted names we didn't recognize. They didn't look at us as people. We were cargo, tools for whatever nightmare came next.
Ciri sat beside me, holding her bowl with shaking hands. "Barley and fish," she muttered, forcing a dry laugh. "Guess this is what they feed you before they throw you to the sea."
I looked at her, then at the soldiers marching past. Yeah… she was probably right.