Sector-3-72. High School #104 Training Grounds (East District).
Kali and Rian stepped out of the main academic block and onto the wide, paved walkway that connected the school to the training facilities. From the elevated grounds of the High School in the East, the entire layout of Sector-3 was visible beneath the afternoon sun.
To the West, the skyline was beautiful. Sleek, silver towers and floating gardens marked the Rich District. That was where the Sky-Cruisers were heading, zipping through the air like hummingbirds, carrying the students of Class 1 back to their villas.
To the Center, the massive holographic advertisements of the Trade & Market Zone flickered, selling everything from Grade-C Energy Crystals to off-world spices.
But Rian wasn't looking at the luxury of the West or the commerce of the Center. He was looking North, toward the Residential Blocks.
They weren't shacks. They were massive, ancient monoliths of gray concrete that scraped the sky—hundreds of stories high, packed so tightly together they blocked out the sun. These were the "hives" of the common people.
"Look at them," Rian sighed, pointing at the sky where a crimson Sky-Cruiser shot past. "Taron Zul will be home in three minutes. Meanwhile, I have to catch the magnetic train to Block-9. It's a forty-minute ride, and the elevators are broken again. Walking up to the 40th floor is a workout I didn't ask for."
Kali adjusted his backpack. He lived in Block-12, on the 75th floor. It was a cramped metal box, but it was home.
"At least the train is running," Kali said. "I need to get home early tonight. David and Merry are pulling a double shift at the restaurant in the Trade Zone, so I have to cook for Tina."
Rian chuckled. "Your sister? She's thirteen now, right? I heard she already hit Planetary Rank 1 without even trying."
"She has good aptitude," Kali said, a mix of pride and worry in his voice. "She naturally absorbs ambient energy. By the time she's my age, she won't need gravity training to break her limits."
"The Vane family has a prodigy, huh?" Rian teased. "Or... I guess just 'Tina Vane' since you dropped the surname."
"Just Kali," he corrected quietly. "The surname Vane belongs to honest, hardworking people. I'm trying to be something else."
Rian didn't push it. He knew the situation. Kali's parents, David and Merry, were good people, but they had hit their genetic limit decades ago. They were both stuck at Planetary Rank 4. Despite working their whole lives, their bodies simply refused to hold more energy.
Kali, at 17, was already Rank 5. He had surpassed his own parents. He wasn't just the son anymore; he was the protector.
"I'm heading to the Dojo," Kali said, stopping at the fork in the path.
Rian's eyes widened. "The Heavy Gravity section? Kali, you're Rank 5. If you go in there today, you won't be able to walk to the exam tomorrow."
"I'll be fine," Kali lied. "See you tomorrow, Rian."
He turned toward the massive, bunker-like building at the edge of the school grounds. The Heavy Gravity Hall was isolated, a brutalist block of black tungsten smelling of ozone and recycled coolant.
Only the desperate came here.
Kali swiped his student ID at the entrance of Booth 4. The holographic display flickered red:
[Student: Kali. Rank: Planetary 5. Credits: 3.]
"Last credits," Kali muttered, stepping inside.
The booth was a small, hexagonal room. In the center, a single vent waited to release the ambient cosmic energy.
"System," Kali said to the empty room, stripping off his shirt to reveal a torso mapped with scars. "Set gravity to 5x Earth Standard."
The cold, mechanical voice of the room responded instantly. "Warning. User physiology is registered at Planetary Rank 5. Recommended limit is 3.0x. Sustained exposure to 5.0x may result in micro-fractures and organ failure. Confirm?"
"Confirm."
"Initiating in 3... 2... 1..."
WHAM.
It wasn't a gradual increase. It was an instant, crushing slam. The air in the room felt like solid lead. Kali's 5'11" frame was instantly subjected to nearly 850 pounds of crushing force.
His spine groaned. His knees slammed into the metal floor, the skin splitting instantly.
Do not faint, Kali screamed internally.
Gravity was the great equalizer. It acted on every single cell in his body equally, squeezing the nucleus, compressing the mitochondria, trying to crush him into dust.
Planetary Technique: Initiate.
Kali closed his eyes and began the Breathing Technique—a sharp inhale through the nose, holding it for three heartbeats, and a slow, hissing exhale through the teeth.
Inhale.
As his lungs expanded against the crushing weight, the ambient cosmic energy in the room was sucked into his nose.
Hold.
His mind flashed to his family. He thought of his father, David, sweating in the restaurant kitchen, his Rank 4 back aching after a twelve-hour shift. He thought of Tina, sitting on the floor of their apartment, effortlessly floating a pencil with her developing energy.
His parents were stuck. They had reached their ceiling. They would never see the stars.
I have to break through, Kali told himself as his bones creaked. For them. I have to see what's above this ceiling.
Exhale.
He breathed out the impurities. His cells, starving for resources under the pressure, greedily devoured the cosmic energy to reinforce their walls.
Thirty minutes passed.
Most Rank 5 warriors would have tapped out at ten. Kali was still sitting there, a statue of trembling agony. Blood trickled from his nose, splashing heavily onto the metal floor.
Ding.
"Session Complete. User vitals critical. Disengaging."
The pressure vanished.
Kali collapsed forward, gasping for air. His body felt light, floating, but every nerve ending screamed.
The door to the booth hissed open.
"I knew I'd find you here."
Kali recognized the voice. Lana Kross.
She stood in the doorway, wearing her pristine training uniform. She looked at the blood on the floor, then at the display: [Gravity: 5.0x].
"You're an idiot," she said, her voice lacking its usual cold bite. "You ruptured three capillaries in your neck. If you keep training like a barbarian, you won't make it to the exam."
"If I don't train..." Kali wheezed, rolling onto his back, "...I'm already dead."
Lana stared at him. She reached into her pocket and tossed a small, green vial. [Cellular Recovery Serum – Grade C].
"Don't get the wrong idea," she said, turning to leave. "I just don't want the school's average score to drop because you imploded."
She walked away. Kali gripped the vial, feeling its warmth. He downed it, and the pain receded, replaced by a hum of strength.
He sat up. The Rank 5 barrier inside him... that solid wall... finally had a crack.