The path to the Fourth Division was a descent into the entrails of the base. Already during the first tour with Echo, I had seen that different rules reigned down here. But that had only been a look through a shop window. Now, as I walked through the corridors alone, it felt as if I were leaving civilization behind.
The air became thicker and stuffier. It no longer smelled of the sterile ozone of the upper levels. It smelled of lubricating oil, of cold sweat, and of old blood that had eaten deep into the joints of the floor.
Shade walked ahead in silence. We passed heavy steel doors that looked as if they had survived bomb attacks. Behind them, noise could be heard. It was not the disciplined sound of military drills. This sounded like a prison riot. Metal struck metal. There was roaring and laughter that bordered on madness.
Shade stopped in front of a massive airlock. A hologram flickered above it: DIVISION 4 ACCESS AT YOUR OWN RISK.
"Welcome to the basement," Shade said dryly. "The Fourth does not care for protocols. Rioji does not lead this group like an army. He leads it like a wolf pack."
The airlock opened with a metallic groan.
A wave of heat hit my face. The room behind it was gigantic a mixture of a workshop, a junkyard, and an illegal fighting arena. Everywhere lay parts of drones, dismantled weapons, and engines. In the middle of the room was a ring. But it was not a clean training ring. It was a cage made of chain link fence and steel beams.
The First Encounter
I saw figures moving like predators. They wore oil stained tank tops, torn pants, and bandages. One of them was currently hammering on a steel plate with bare fists until there were dents in it.
When Shade and I entered, it suddenly became quieter. All eyes turned toward us. They were not respectful like with Echo upstairs. They were scrutinizing and assessing, like wolves scenting fresh meat.
Then I saw him Rioji.
He stood at the edge of the cage, leaning casually against a steel beam. He looked different from the other commanders. He had sharp, Asian facial features and black hair that fell wildly over his forehead. He wore a sleeveless shirt, and I immediately saw the tattoo on his right arm. It was a complicated, dark pattern of dragon scales and demon faces that stretched from his wrist to under his neck. It was Yakuza style a sign of someone who has a past that is better left unspoken.
Shade nodded to him.
"Rioji. I am bringing you the new recruit."
Rioji did not move. He only turned his head slowly. His eyes were dark, almost black, and they were completely devoid of warmth. He studied me from my dirty shoes to my different colored eyes. He did not look impressed. He looked as if someone had dumped trash at his door.
"That?" he asked. His voice was calm, but it cut through the noise of the hall. "That is the one Echo raves about?"
He pushed himself off the beam and walked slowly toward me. The other members of the Fourth stepped aside. Rioji stopped directly in front of me. He radiated a danger that was palpable.
"A stick figure," he said contemptuously and spat just in front of my feet. "I thought we were looking for warriors, not starved rats from the gutter."
Laughter erupted in the background. Someone shouted "Maybe he can clean well, boss!"
I felt heat rising in my cheeks. Another bastard, I thought. Another one who thinks he is a god just because he is strong. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be angry. But then I heard Aria's voice in my head "Do not let anger blind you, Kyro. Use it."
I took a deep breath. I forced myself to look him directly in the eyes. I did not back down.
"I may look like a rat," I said, my voice firm although my heart was racing. "But rats survive when the fine lions have long since starved."
Silence followed. The laughter died instantly. Shade raised an eyebrow. Rioji did not even blink. He stared at me as if he were trying to break my will through looks alone.
"Big words," he said softly. "For someone who looks like he would fall over at the next gust of wind."
He leaned down toward me, and his tattooed arm tensed.
"You think you are tough, kid? Because you stole a few times in the slums? Because you got a lucky hit against Solis?"
He laughed briefly a dry, humorless sound.
"Down here, luck does not count. Here, pain counts. If you want to join my division, you must go through hell."
"Test me," I said. "I will become stronger. Stronger than you. If you train me, I will prove it to you."
Rioji stared at me for another second. Then something flashed in his dark eyes. It was not respect, but interest. It was like a man who finds a knife and checks if the blade is sharp.
"Stronger than me? You are either brave or stupid. Probably both."
He turned around abruptly.
"Get out of here. I do not train children in my cage. If you are serious, then stand at the north gate of the base tomorrow morning at 05:00."
He looked at me over his shoulder.
"And you better not be a single second late."
The Price of Iron
I hardly slept that night. The cot in the recruits' barracks was harder than the concrete in the slums, and my thoughts were racing. I thought of Shade, of the voice from the file, of the tanks, and of Rioji.
04:55. I stood at the north gate. It was dark. The cold wind from the plains whistled around the corners of the base. Punctuably at 05:00, the gate opened. Rioji stepped out. He wore no jacket despite the cold. The tattoos on his arm seemed to breathe in the pale light of the security lamps.
He said not a word. He only nodded toward the wasteland outside the walls. I followed him.
We walked for about ten minutes until we reached an old, abandoned training ground. It looked like a graveyard for machines with rusty steel beams, huge tires, and concrete blocks. It was not a high-tech dojo like Echo's. It was a place to break people.
A few members of his division had followed him. They leaned against the ruins, smoked, and watched us. They wanted to see the newcomer fail.
Rioji stopped.
"Before you can even think about using resonance, you must harden your body," he said coolly. "Resonance is not just energy. It is violence. If your body is weak, it will tear you apart from the inside."
He kicked a massive metal plate that was half buried in the dirt.
"Push it up. Over your head. Show me that you are not completely useless."
I stared at the plate. The thing was huge, rusty, and sharp edged. In the background, I heard giggling. "He won't last a minute," someone hissed. "Why is Rioji even wasting time with him?" asked another.
I tuned them out. I thought of Aria. Do not be angry, I told myself. Be focused. I crouched down and grabbed the cold, sharp edges of the metal. "Up with it."
I pulled. Nothing happened. It felt as if the plate were welded to the earth's core. My muscles screamed immediately. My fingers slipped. Rioji crossed his arms. His face was a mask of boredom.
"Just as I thought. Over already?"
No. Not giving up again. I grit my teeth. I dug my feet into the soft ground. I pulled again. A scream escaped my throat: raw and animalistic. The plate moved one millimeter, then two. My arms trembled so hard that I thought my bones would shatter.
But I did not let go. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I lifted the damn thing. Up to my knees. Up to my hips. My whole body vibrated with the effort. The spectators fell silent. Even Rioji's bored expression showed cracks.
I held it. Three seconds. Four. Then my legs gave out. The plate crashed to the ground. Dust swirled up. I fell to my knees, gasping for air like a drowning man.
Rioji stepped closer. He looked down at me. There was no applause and no "well done."
"That was nothing," he said coldly. "If that is all you have, you will not even survive the first path."
I raised my head. Sweat dripped from my nose and mixed with the dust on the ground. I looked at him. And I knew he was not testing my muscles. He was testing my will.
"I will get stronger," I gasped. "No matter what it costs."
Rioji was silent. He looked at me for a long time. Then he turned around.
"We will see. Get out of here. And come back tomorrow. If you can still move by then."
The Celestia Test
Two weeks passed. Two weeks in which Rioji dragged me to this place every morning. He made me suffer, but he did not let me fall. I hated him, and I respected him.
Two weeks passed. Two weeks in which Rioji put me through the wringer. He made me run until I vomited. He made me fight robots that were twice my size. He made me lift, pull, and push things intended for construction workers, not teenagers.
I hated him. But I became stronger.
Then came the day of truth. Shade appeared at the training. Next to him was Echo. The atmosphere changed immediately. It was serious.
"Enough playing," Shade said. "It is time to see what is really inside you."
They led me back into the base, into a darkened room I had never seen before. In the middle stood a machine. It looked like a metallic coffin standing upright, connected with hoses and monitors. Softly glowing symbols pulsed on its surface like veins. The Celestia Test.
Rioji leaned in a corner with his arms crossed. He seemed annoyed, as if this were a waste of time.
"I do not know why we are even doing this," he growled. "The boy has grit, yes. But resonance potential? He is a street dog."
Echo ignored him. She nodded to me.
"Stand in the middle, Kyro."
I stepped forward. The machine hummed. A fine needle shot out and pricked my arm. It hardly hurt compared to Rioji's training, it was a mosquito bite. My blood flowed through a thin tube into a glass chamber.
Everyone stared at the tube. At first, it was dark red normal blood. Then it began to change. The liquid swirled. It became blue a deep, glowing ocean blue.
A murmur went through the room. Shade stepped one step closer.
"Blue stands for extraordinary potential," he said softly.
Rioji frowned. He pushed himself off the wall. His lack of interest had vanished.
But it was not over yet. The blue became lighter. It began to radiance. It became white pure, gleaming, and blinding. It was as if someone had pressed a star into the tube. The light flooded the dark room and cast long shadows on the walls.
The machine began to vibrate. A warning tone beeped. On the monitor, a text appeared, flashing in a red alarm ANALYSIS COMPLETE. PATH SHINSEI.
Silence. Total, unbelieving silence. Echo clapped her hand over her mouth. Shade's golden eyes lit up. Even Rioji, the unshakeable bastard, froze. His eyes widened.
"White..." an assistant in the background stammered. "That is impossible."
Echo whispered "A Shinsei? Here? With us?"
I stood there and understood nothing. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Am I sick?"
No one answered immediately. Shade and Echo exchanged a look that spoke volumes. A look that said Everything is changing.
Rioji was the first to recover. But he did not look happy. He looked angry. Envy and pure, unconcealed jealousy mixed in his gaze. He clenched his fists until the dragon tattoo on his arm tensed.
"That... that cannot be!" he hissed softly. "A brat from the slums? A Shinsei?"
He stared at me as if I were an error in the system.
"You have no idea what that means, boy. You think this is a gift? It is a target."
I turned toward him. The white light was still reflected in my eyes. I was no longer afraid of him. I had survived two weeks of hell.
"I told you I would become stronger," I said calmly. "Stronger than you."
Rioji snorted. But there was no longer any mockery in his laugh. There was something darker: a challenge.
"Fine," he said, and his voice was as sharp as a blade. "But just because you have the light does not mean you are burning. You are still a raw diamond. And I will grind you until you either shine or crumble to dust."
He stepped very close to me.
"Do not forget that, Kyro. Just because you are a Shinsei does not mean you will overtake me. I will challenge you like never before."
He turned abruptly and marched toward the door.
"Tomorrow. Training. And bring your will with you. You will need it."
I watched him go. Then I looked at Shade. Shade did not smile. But he nodded to me: a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. I was no longer a nobody. I was a Shinsei. And the war had only just begun.