"Sergeant Varkas, this is not according to protocol. The next session is a Strength Test, not a physical duel!"
The voice belonged to Instructor Jean, a man whose face was as flat and expressionless as a concrete wall. His presence at the threshold of The Monolith seemed to suck the air back into the room.
"Silence! You have no business here, Jean! I am the one in charge!" Varkas growled, his mechanical jaw creaking as he stepped closer to Nugia. His blood-red eyes flared with hatred, as if he wanted to crush the boy's bones with his gaze alone.
"You know well enough," Jean countered, his voice low but piercing, "Colonel Lion will not be pleased to hear you're attempting to destroy a potential asset outside of the schedule. Do you wish to explain to him why a talented cadet died before the field trials?"
Varkas stopped dead. Colonel Lion's name acted like a chain tightening around his throat. He stood frozen for a moment, his ragged breath creating thin wisps of steam in the frigid air. Without a word, Varkas turned and stomped away from the gunpowder-scented room. His jaw clenched so hard the sound of his teeth grinding echoed like scrap metal rubbing together.
Unit 009 finally breathed. Oxygen rushed back into their lungs, which had felt paralyzed moments ago. Amae, despite the lingering dizziness in her head, rushed toward Nugia.
"That was so cool, Nugia!" Amae chirped, her eyes sparkling. To her, Nugia was no longer just a bunkmate; he was a legendary weapon that had suddenly come to life.
Whispers of admiration began to ripple from the other units who had witnessed the impossible event. However, amidst the awe, Unit Drog stood silent. They stared at Nugia with glowing red eyes—the gaze of predators who felt their territory being encroached upon by a new monster.
"Enough! Fall in line!" Jean commanded. His voice was flat yet carried absolute authority. "Anyone late to the formation will be punished by packing up all the equipment in The Monolith!"
The sentimental atmosphere vanished instantly. The word 'packing' in a hall that massive was a physical nightmare. Cadets scrambled, their boots thumping against the metal floor as they hurried to arrange themselves by unit, leaving a haunting silence in the heart of The Monolith.
"Next session: Strength Test. This will determine your specialized positions within your units going forward!" Jean explained in an unchanging tone, as if he were merely a machine reading instructions.
Suddenly, the metal floor groaned. From beneath the concrete surface, a row of mechanical mannequins emerged, designed to mimic perfect human anatomy. Their skin was made of synthetic polymers capable of absorbing impact, yet equipped with pressure sensors at every vital point.
"Those are kinetic strength and energy synchronization measuring tools," Jean continued, pointing at the rigid mannequins.
"Once this session ends, you are permitted to rest and have lunch. And take note..." Jean paused, his eyes scanning the pale, hungry faces of the cadets.
"The unit with the highest accumulated score will receive a special reward. A high-class menu from the Central Sector. So, show me your best. Do not let your energy evaporate in vain."
Drog, Subject 001, stepped forward to open the trial. He took a deep breath, centered his weight on his heels, and unleashed a straight punch that cut through the air with a sharp whistle.
BOOM!
The mannequin's body jerked violently backward, its steel hinges screeching as they collided with the metal floor. On the mannequin's forehead, a red digital display lit up: 700 N. Jean gave a slight nod, his expression remaining flat as his fingers danced across a digital tablet, recording a solid start for the leader of Unit 001.
The strength test continued with a series of dull thuds. Nobo (Subject 004) recorded a score of 550 N; he stopped for a moment, glancing at Zilla while flexing his tensed arm muscles—a display of power that Zilla met with a cold, unimpressed stare.
Next was Ed (Subject 007), who stepped up with overflowing confidence. He tried to blow a flirtatious wink at Meyra, but she immediately looked away with a look of pure disgust. Ed's courage withered instantly. His shoulders slumped, and his punch lost its momentum. He hit the sensor with a force of 620 N.
The atmosphere heated up as Aan (Subject 022), the mysterious youth, stepped forward. Without a word, with just one precisely snapped shoulder thrust, he broke the 712 N mark, surpassing his own leader's score.
However, the peak of Unit 001 was closed by Jack (Subject 041). With his sturdy frame, he slammed the mannequin until the machine's hydraulic system groaned under the pressure.
DISPLAY: 740 N.
The highest score so far. Jack pulled his hand back, casting a glance at the three girls of Unit 009 with a gaze hungry for praise—as if proclaiming that "he was the strongest youth here." After showing off, he turned and marched back to the line with stiff, robotic movements.
Unit 002 and the others followed, but not a single one of them could even touch the 500 N mark. It wasn't without reason; Unit 001 was a collection of large-bodied youths specifically chosen for their physical superiority—they were the monsters of this class.
Seeing this dominance, the three narcissistic boys from Unit 001 confidently approached the girls of Unit 009.
"You are the most beautiful girls here. The three of us have agreed to give you our special food rations later!" Ed said, winking with forced charm.
"That's right, gorgeous. I'll give mine up voluntarily!" Nobo added. He posed like a hero, intentionally flexing so his veins popped in front of them.
"Hmmm... yes!" Jack chimed in, stiff as usual but with a condescending gaze.
"Huh? Who said you're getting the rations? We're the ones who are going to win!" Meyra snapped instantly. Beside her, Zilla tried to remain calm even though her jaw was tightening, while Reyna hid behind Nugia's back as if the boy's small frame was a protective wall.
"Of course we'll win, sweetheart. Look at that—Unit 005's highest score was only 400. So far, we are the kings here!" Nobo boasted with a chuckle.
"We... are the ones who will win that special food!" Amae stammered from behind Zilla's shadow, her voice shaky but full of determination.
"Fine, let's make a bet. If you lose, the three of you have to kiss us!" Ed challenged with absolute certainty.
"And if we win?" Meyra asked, her eyes beginning to flash with anger.
"You can do whatever you want to us! Even making us your slaves for the day!" Nobo answered flippantly.
"This is childish. We won't play this stupid game," Zilla said, trying to pull Meyra back.
"What, are you scared? Turns out Unit 009 is only good at running away from reality," Ed and Nobo mocked in unison.
Suddenly, the word 'Scared' pierced Meyra's soul. Her pride as a fighter flared, shattering the last of her patience.
"Next, Unit 009!"
"Amae, go! Show them our strength!" Meyra shouted fiercely, trying to ignite her friend's courage.
Amae stepped forward. With legs that were still trembling, she took her stance in front of the steel mannequin. All eyes were on her. Behind her, Meyra continued to cheer, Zilla gave a firm nod with crossed arms, and Reyna clenched her fists with hopeful eyes. The reputation of Unit 009 now rested on Amae's small shoulders.
Amae took a deep breath. The annoying faces of the Unit 001 boys flashed in her mind. She pulled her fist back as far as possible, gathering every bit of strength she possessed.
"THUNDER FIST!!!" she screamed, piercing the silence.
For a moment, time seemed to slow down for Amae. Her eyes were squeezed shut; she could feel the adrenaline surging. Meyra's encouraging wink behind her felt long and dramatic. She swung her fist with all her might, expecting a burst of power that would silence all the mockery.
Puff.
Only a tiny sound of contact was heard. The punch landed, but it only grazed the polymer surface of the mannequin.
DISPLAY: 1 N.
Amae had stood too far away. Because her eyes were closed when she struck, she didn't realize her short arms couldn't reach the target perfectly. Her "Thunder Fist" ended as nothing more than a gentle caress on the mannequin's nose.
In an instant, the entire hall of The Monolith exploded in laughter. Jean, the instructor usually as flat as a wall, struggled to maintain his stiff mask. The line of his cheek twitched—he almost laughed—before he cleared his throat loudly and returned to his cold professionalism.
"We're waiting for those kisses!" Ed and Nobo shouted triumphantly before stepping back, making room for the rest of Unit 009.
Meyra clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white, trembling with shame and mounting rage. Meanwhile, Amae returned to the line with her head hung low, her face crimson. When she dared to look up, she saw Meyra's face looking like a demon ready to swallow her whole.
"Amae, your Thunder Fist was so cool! You're amazing!" Nugia said with an innocent, sinless tone.
Everyone there froze, glancing at each other in bewilderment. No one knew what Nugia's eyes had seen, or what kind of "amazing" standard existed in his head.
Reyna went second. She punched with neat technique, recording a score of 280 N. A standard number, but in this situation, it did nothing to help their accumulated points.
Meyra's spirit sank further. Her shame was now eclipsed by pure anger toward Amae. Without warning, she pinched Amae's stomach so hard the silly girl could only cry silently, clutching her stinging midriff.
"Zilla, please! You're my only savior!" Meyra pleaded with a frustrated face.
"I told you, I didn't want to join that stupid game," Zilla answered coldly. The silver-haired girl strode forward without a hint of guilt over the fate of Meyra's lips.
With one efficient motion, Zilla struck the mannequin. 480 N. A very decent score for a girl, but still far from enough.
Meyra tried to calculate the point difference they needed to catch up to Unit 001. Her eyes widened as she realized the gap was too wide. The last hope now rested on the boy who had just praised Amae.
"Nugia... you have to hit 1,000 N right now! If not, I'll kill you before Ed even touches my face!" Meyra hissed frantically, gripping Nugia's shoulders as if her life depended on him.
The boy stepped forward. Suddenly, the hubbub inside The Monolith fell silent the moment his small frame stood before the steel mannequin.
Nugia closed his eyes for a moment. In his head, he replayed every detail of Amae's "Thunder Fist." He shifted his feet, taking a stance exactly like Amae had—but this time, he measured the distance with lethal precision.
Nugia inhaled, gathering all his strength into a single point of focus. Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind like a whispering wind.
"Magic is in your heart..."
The voice sounded so gentle, full of love, and felt so far away.
The bracelet labeled Subject 009 on his wrist stood as a silent witness as the blue glow in his eyes shone faintly, igniting the mana circuits flowing through his veins. The air around Nugia's fist began to vibrate, as if the space in front of him was about to crack.