Loud horns blasted through the barracks before sunrise. Richard jolted upright and slammed his head on the bunk above him. For a moment, panic swallowed him whole—then the armor-clad figures rushing past reminded him.
"It wasn't a nightmare," he muttered. "It was real."
He threw off his blanket and mimicked the other rookies, standing at attention beside his bed. Only after every recruit was on their feet did the horns stop. Their squad leaders appeared immediately.
"Get dressed and report to the mess hall at once!"
"Yes sir!" Richard responded instinctively. The others echoed him a heartbeat later.
Sebastian paused beside him. "You're the sharpest one in the bunch. Try not to disappoint me."
Richard scrambled into his armor. Chaos filled the room as rookies hurried to suit up. His gaze accidentally drifted to a girl struggling into her body suit, the tight fabric revealing almost everything beneath it. He didn't mean to stare, but he did—and she caught him. Their eyes locked. Embarrassed, he jerked his head away, only to glance back again.
She smiled. Bold. Unbothered. Then she winked.
Heat rushed through Richard so fast he fumbled his armor straps.
"What is wrong with me?" he muttered, taking a steadying breath before following the stream of rookies toward the mess hall.
Inside, long lines formed as recruits collected trays and waited for their meals to be slapped onto the metal surfaces. No one complained. No one refused. You ate what you were given.
It wasn't his mother's cooking, but Richard forced it down. His nerves were too tight to taste anything anyway.
Three minutes later, the horns shrieked again.
"What is happening?" he thought, his mind spinning. "How are we supposed to keep up with this?"
"Quiet," someone whispered behind him. Richard turned and found Nate. "Just follow the process. I think this is a test."
It made sense. No one could survive like this for an entire year… right?
They exited the hall and returned to the same grounds where they had received their mana bars. Groups were called away to different buildings one by one. Group E remained until last.
Finally, Sebastian appeared and led them into a separate structure. The line they formed was awkward but improving. Conditioning had already begun.
Inside, they entered a large training chamber. A single instructor stood waiting.
She was tall, wrapped in immaculate white armor traced with elegant designs. Her dark hair was tied tightly behind her head, and her green eyes pierced each of them in turn. When her gaze met theirs, it lingered long enough to make every rookie look away.
"You five have yet to unlock your power," she began. "I am Sergeant Ward. I specialize in helping rookies awaken. You will follow every instruction precisely and without hesitation.
"These tests will be unnerving. They are meant to be. Our task is to determine the exact condition required to trigger your first-level power."
A pair of double doors opened. Soldiers rolled in five sleek white capsules, each the size of a human and shaped like an upright egg. Their glass doors lifted with a hiss.
"First order," Ward said. "Enter your pod."
Richard climbed in immediately and waited. Inside, he spotted soft white gloves and a helmet lined with wires connecting to the pod's interior.
"I'm sure you understand what to do with the equipment," Ward continued. "Put it on."
Richard obeyed, sliding his hands into the gloves and replacing his own helmet with the pod's. Darkness swallowed him instantly. No light. No sound.
His heart pounded.
A click sounded beside him—then a burst of overwhelming sound. Light exploded across the visor in blinding bursts of color. Richard reached for the helmet, but his hands met nothing.
The sensation inspired panic in his mind, but he recalled his training and pushed the feeling again.
"Stay focused!" He said to himself.
Then everything stopped.
When he opened his eyes, he was standing on a snowy mountaintop. Thin air burned his lungs. His bare feet stung from the jagged frozen ground. He looked down: he wore only a pair of breeches. No armor. No body suit. No sword.
Cold ripped through him.
He crossed his arms over his chest, skin tightening, lips burning. In the distance he spotted a patch of clear ground—untouched by snow—with a small pile of neatly stacked firewood beside a ring of stones.
He forced his numb feet toward it. The patch of grass beneath him felt like survival itself. Dropping to his knees, shaking violently, he seized two pieces of wood and scraped them together, breaking off small fragments.
Focus. Think. Don't quit.
He gathered enough kindling before spotting two stones lying beside the pit. He struck them together. Again. Again.
A spark.
A wisp of smoke.
He leaned in, blowing gently. Smoke thickened. A flame formed. He fed it thin sticks, then thicker ones until a steady fire burned before him. Heat washed over him, spreading into frozen fingers and toes that had turned nearly purple.
Relief loosened his shoulders.
"How did I get here?" he whispered. "I was in the pod… but nothing should feel this real."
He drew close to the fire, clinging to its warmth. His breath steadied. His mind began to return to reason.
Then everything vanished.
Darkness swallowed the world. A faint red light blinked beneath his visor. He reached up—this time his fingers touched the helmet. His lungs trembled with relief as he pulled it off.
The pod door hissed open.
Other rookies stood frozen, staring ahead. Richard stepped out and followed their gaze.
A girl stood engulfed in flames. Her screams pierced the chamber as soldiers in fire-resistant suits rushed in, lifted her onto a gurney, and rolled her away.
Sergeant Ward watched without flinching.
"That's one rookie who awakened," she said with a sharp grin. "Who's next?"
Her eyes swept across the remaining four rookies, pausing briefly to hold each one of them in her gaze. Her eyes settle on Richard, his eyes stared back, her grin spreading into a smile.
"Maybe it will be you."