The abrupt silence that followed Kendrick's announcement was heavier than any physical weight. It pressed down on Ares, on Jones, on Sylvie, even seeming to momentarily still Nia's unnerving calm.
Fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes to drag their aching, mutated bodies to a place ominously named
"Training Hall Gamma"
for their first Mana Force Acclimation Session. The very words dripped with a promise of pain and uncertainty.
Ares pushed himself up from the chair, the lingering throb in his chest a dull counterpoint to the fresh spike of adrenaline.
His reflection stared back at him from the polished white surface of the table, a stranger, almost.
Eyes shadowed with exhaustion, a new, thin scar bisecting his sternum, a visible mark of the violation he'd endured. He looked away, the image unsettling.
"Training Hall Gamma…" Jones muttered, breaking the silence.
He ran a hand over his own chest, a grimace briefly twisting his features. "Doesn't sound like a walk in the park, does it?"
"When has anything in this damn facility been a walk in the park?" Sylvie retorted, swinging her legs off the bed.
She winced as she stood, her hand instinctively going to her own surgical site.
Her usual sharp demeanor was blunted by a layer of weariness, her movements stiff. "They cut us open, shove a piece of a world-ending monster inside us, and then expect us to be… 'energetically' on time for their next round of torture."
Nia, ever the enigma, simply stretched, a movement as fluid and graceful as a cat's. "Ooh, acclimation! Sounds like fun. I wonder if they'll let us play with the new… tingle." Her green eyes, far too bright and knowing, flicked between them, a small, almost predatory smile on her lips.
Ares ignored her, his mind already racing. Fifteen minutes wasn't long. They needed to move. "Let's not give Kendrick the satisfaction of 'energetically discouraging' us," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at his uniform, the same one he'd woken up in. It was clean, at least, probably changed by the medical droids while he was unconscious.
They moved with a shared, unspoken urgency. The previous experiments had taught them the brutal cost of hesitation, the swift, merciless punishment for disobedience. Even the air in the room seemed to crackle with a nervous energy, the hum of the Vhala fragment in Ares's chest a constant, subliminal vibration.
As they stepped out into the sterile white corridor, the oppressive quiet of the facility was broken by the distant sound of other doors opening, the shuffling of feet, hushed, anxious voices. The survivors. The other upgraded lab rats.
...….
...…
Ares wondered how many were left after the Vhala core insertions. The procedure itself must have had a failure rate. Some bodies, surely, would have rejected the alien power, or simply been too weak to withstand the trauma.
The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. This place was a crucible, designed to burn away the dross, leaving only the tempered steel – or those broken beyond repair.
The walk to Training Hall Gamma was a tense, silent affair. Ares found himself hyper-aware of the fragment in his chest. It wasn't just an ache anymore; it was a presence. A foreign warmth that seemed to subtly shift and pulse with his own heartbeat, yet distinctly separate. He tried to focus on it, to understand its rhythm, but it was like trying to grasp smoke.
The 17% integration felt like a pitifully small foothold on an impossibly vast mountain of power.
Jones walked beside him, his brow furrowed in concentration. Ares could almost see the gears turning in his friend's mind, the pragmatic C-rank Tank trying to analyze, to prepare for whatever fresh hell awaited them. Sylvie trailed slightly behind, her movements still a little guarded, her gaze sweeping the corridor with a practiced alertness that her exhaustion couldn't fully mask.
Nia, predictably, seemed to glide, her steps light, an unnerving cheerfulness in her eyes that was utterly at odds with their grim surroundings.
They passed other participants, their faces a mixture of fear, grim determination, and a disturbing, almost feverish anticipation. The ones who had survived this long, who had endured the experiments and the culling, were not ordinary. They were desperate, or broken, or driven by a hunger for power that bordered on madness.
Ares saw a man with eyes that burned with a terrifying intensity, muttering to himself. He saw a woman whose hands trembled uncontrollably, yet whose jaw was set in a rictus of defiance. These were the people he was now lumped with, the chosen few for this twisted apotheosis.
Training Hall Gamma was, predictably, enormous. Larger even than the assembly hall, its ceiling arched so high it was lost in shadow, supported by massive pillars that looked like the petrified bones of some colossal beast. The floor was a dark, matte material that absorbed the light, giving the entire space a somber, almost oppressive atmosphere.
Unlike the stark white of the rest of the facility, this place felt… older, more purposeful, like an arena built for conflict.
Dozens of other participants were already gathered, forming a loose, uneasy crowd in the center. Ares counted roughly fifty, maybe seventy individuals. A significant reduction from the initial numbers he'd witnessed, but still a substantial group.
He recognized a few faces from the first experiment, their expressions hardened, their eyes holding a new, wary glint.
Except for one, the arrogant man talking back to the superiors in the assembly, he was walking casually with seven people chanting praises unto him.
Well, he didn't get in trouble or even killed. Therefore, everyone knew he had power within the government or more accurately, he might be a descendant of someone higher than the superiors.
Either way, three more people joined in to praise him, for they knew, he was the key to survive in this hellish place.
At the far end of the hall, on a slightly raised dais, stood three figures. Kendrick was there, of course, a smug smirk plastered on his face as he surveyed the assembled 'maggots.' Beside him stood Liora, her silver hair catching the dim light, her expression cold and imperious as ever. Her sky-blue eyes swept over the participants with an air of detached scrutiny, as if she were examining particularly uninteresting insects.
If they ever knew the other side of her, it would be backlash to her losing authority and probably even subjects she can use within.
The third figure, however, was new to Ares, or at least one he hadn't paid much attention to before. A man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark blue hair neatly slicked back and piercing, intelligent eyes. His uniform was similar to Kendrick's and Liora's, but he carried himself with a quieter, more contained authority.
His features were sharp, almost hawkish, and a dark cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, from the bridge of his nose downwards, obscuring his mouth and jaw. It gave him an air of mystery, of hidden depths. He simply stood there, arms crossed, observing.
Ares felt a prickle of unease. New superiors usually meant new, inventive ways to make their lives miserable.
Kendrick clapped his hands together, the sound echoing unnaturally in the vast space.
"Welcome, welcome, my little Vhala-vessels!
So glad you could all make it! Punctuality is, after all, next to… well, not getting disintegrated, I suppose!"
He chuckled at his own joke, a grating sound that made Ares's teeth ache.
Liora stepped forward, her voice cutting through the nervous murmurs of the crowd like a shard of ice.
"Enough theatrics, Kendrick. We have a schedule." She turned her gaze upon the participants, and a hush fell over the hall.
"You have all been… augmented. Imbued with a fragment of Vhala's Heart Core. This power, Mana Force, is unlike anything you have comprehended before. It is raw, volatile, and in its current state within you, largely untamed."
Her eyes seemed to linger on Ares for a fraction of a second longer than the others, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before she moved on.
"Today, your acclimation begins. You will learn the barest fundamentals of sensing and, perhaps, if you are not entirely incompetent, guiding this power. Do not mistake this for true control. That is a luxury none of you have yet earned."
The masked superior finally spoke, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant, even muffled by the cloth.
"The Mana Force fragment within you is currently integrating with your biological and mana systems. This process is… delicate. Force it, and you risk catastrophic backlash. Your bodies could reject the fragment, your mana pathways could rupture, or you could simply… unravel. The integration percentage you see on your interfaces is a direct measure of this process. Higher is better, obviously. Lower means you are on a precipice."
His gaze, though partially obscured, felt intensely analytical.
"Today's session has two primary objectives.
First, to teach you to passively sense the Mana Force within yourselves and your immediate environment.
Second, to attempt your first active, albeit minute, internal circulation of this energy. This is not about external manifestation. Attempting to project Mana Force at your current stage of integration is tantamount to suicide. Understood?"
A chorus of hesitant "Yes, Sirs" and "Yes, Ma'ams" rippled through the crowd.
Kendrick grinned, clearly relishing the underlying fear.
"Excellent! Now, for the fun part! Find a spot, get comfortable, and try not to explode. Liora, darling, if you would do the honors of initiating the… ambient resonance field?"
Liora gave Kendrick a withering look but nodded curtly. She raised a hand, and the air in the hall seemed to shimmer. A low, almost inaudible hum began to fill the space, a vibration that resonated deep within Ares's bones, and more acutely, within the Vhala fragment in his chest. The fragment pulsed in response, a faint, warm throb that was more pronounced than before.
"This field," Liora announced, her voice effortlessly carrying over the hum, "will mildly stimulate your core fragments, making them more perceptible to your senses. It will also, for those of you with… particularly low integration, be rather uncomfortable. Consider it an incentive to adapt quickly."
Ares saw a few participants nearby visibly wince. One man, pale and sweating, clutched his chest, his breath hitching. The 'incentive' was already working.
He found a relatively clear space on the floor, Jones settling beside him with a grunt. Sylvie took a spot a few feet away, her expression carefully neutral, though Ares could see the tension in her shoulders. Nia, with an almost beatific smile, sat down gracefully, closing her eyes as if embracing a pleasant warmth.
"Close your eyes," the masked superior instructed, his voice calm yet commanding. "Focus inward. Feel your own mana, your life force. Now, search for the… intruder. The new warmth. The alien pulse. Do not try to control it. Simply… acknowledge its presence. Observe it. Understand its rhythm."
Ares closed his eyes, shutting out the oppressive hall, the watchful superiors, the anxious faces of the other participants. He focused, drawing on the meditative techniques he'd haphazardly learned in his early, failed attempts to raise his hunter rank. He found his own mana, a familiar, cool stream flowing within him. And then, nestled beside his heart, the Vhala fragment.
The ambient resonance field Liora had activated made it easier to perceive. It was like a miniature sun, warm and thrumming, a stark contrast to his own cooler mana. It pulsed with a slow, powerful rhythm, like the heartbeat of a sleeping leviathan. He could feel its raw, concentrated energy, a density that dwarfed his own mana pool. It was terrifying, and yet… undeniably alluring. The sheer potential locked within that tiny fragment was staggering.
He tried to follow the masked superior's instructions, to simply observe. He noted the way it seemed to subtly draw upon his own mana, a slow, almost imperceptible siphon, yet also radiating its own distinct energy signature back into his system. This, he surmised, was the integration process – a slow, mutual exchange, his body learning to coexist with this parasitic god-shard.
His Vhalic Resonance trait felt more active now, a subtle receptiveness to the ambient hum and the fragment's own output. He could almost feel his cells responding, a faint tingling sensation of… something. Regeneration? Adaptation?
"Interesting", a faint voice appeared inside Ares mind but Ares didn't hear it and was focused on his concentration
Suddenly, a choked gasp from nearby broke his concentration. He opened his eyes. The man who had been sweating earlier was now on his knees, his face contorted in agony, his hands clawing at his chest. His skin was taking on a ghastly, bruised hue around his sternum.
"Subject 37 shows signs of acute rejection," the masked superior stated, his voice devoid of emotion. He made a subtle gesture. Two black-clad enforcers, who had been standing silently by the walls, moved in with practiced efficiency. They didn't offer medical aid. They simply grabbed the writhing man by his arms and began to drag him away, his choked screams echoing briefly before a heavy door slammed shut somewhere in the distance.
No one moved. No one spoke. The message was brutally clear. Failure to acclimate had immediate, dire consequences.
Kendrick watched the scene with undisguised amusement.
"Oops! Looks like someone's Vhala-buddy didn't want to play nice! A valuable lesson for the rest of you: this power is not a gift. It is a burden. And some of you," his gaze swept across them, lingering with malicious pleasure, "will be crushed by it."
Ares swallowed hard, the metallic taste of fear coating his tongue. The thrumming in his chest felt less like a sleeping leviathan and more like a ticking time bomb. This wasn't just training. This was a tightrope walk over a pit of fire, and the rope was made of their own fraying sanity and overloaded biology. The whispers of power were intertwined with the screams of the damned.
And this was only the beginning.
"Interesting, this human could actually have a chance to become my vessel"