---
New Manhattan, 3:00 AM – Alley behind sector 9B
James Aston stood frozen as the thing in black armor stepped from the shadows. It didn't walk so much as glide, its boots making no sound on the wet pavement. Red eye-slits glowed faintly, casting a sheen over the graffiti-tagged wall beside him.
"Runner-09. Target: James Aston. Extraction initiated," the voice repeated.
It sounded neither mechanical nor human—something in-between. Like static wrapped around a command prompt.
James stumbled back, almost tripping over the half-smashed vending machine.
"Wait—what extraction? Who the hell are you?"
The figure raised its hand.
James tensed, heart slamming against his ribs like a prisoner behind bars. A surge of instinct screamed at him to run. But where? The alley was a dead end.
Blue light pulsed from the figure's gauntlet. Symbols danced in the air, forming a lattice of lines, shapes, and something that looked vaguely like a glyph mixed with a circuit board.
[PORTAL LOCK ENGAGED]
The screen floated in James's vision, same translucent interface as before. Only now, a timer had appeared.
Extraction in: 00:00:09
He opened his mouth to yell—maybe to protest, maybe to beg—but the world around him exploded in light. Everything stretched, warped, pulled inward like a black hole had opened in his chest.
Then the alley vanished.
---
Location: Central Portal Facility 09-A
Status: Indoctrination Phase
The world snapped back.
James landed hard on cold metal plating. Pain flared through his shoulder as he rolled onto his side, coughing. The scent of ozone, grease, and disinfectant filled his lungs.
The room was massive—circular, sterile, bathed in artificial white light. Rows of black-armored figures lined the walls like statues. But unlike the one in the alley, these didn't move. Stasis mode? Or mannequins?
His thoughts were interrupted by a ding.
[You have entered: Portal Combat Orientation Facility]
[Tier 0 Status confirmed: No equipment, no skills, no allies]
[Chance of survival in next 24 hours: 17%]
"Seventeen percent?!" James spat, struggling to his feet. "That's generous!"
A new figure emerged from the other end of the chamber. This one wore a deep blue coat marked with silver filigree—regal, military, old-fashioned. Beneath it: black armor with faintly glowing circuit veins.
"Name: James Aston," the man said without introduction. "Sixteen. No enhancements. Civilian tier. Urban survivor. Potential: Unmeasured. Claimed under Directive Black-11 by Consortium handler code: Hilton-Red."
James blinked. "The hell does any of that mean?"
The man ignored the question. He turned sharply. "Follow me."
James hesitated. "What happens if I say no?"
The armored statues hummed. Red lines lit up across their torsos.
"Okay," James said quickly. "Not a fan of vaporization. Got it."
He fell into step behind the man, who walked briskly through a sliding door that opened into a long corridor.
"Name?" James asked.
"Instructor Varik," the man replied without looking back.
"Where are we going?"
"Orientation room. Then the portal bay."
"What's the rush?"
"You have three hours to complete Tier Zero trials. If you survive, you'll be classified as a Tier One Combatant. If not… well, that's just another data point."
James stopped walking. "Wait, wait. You're throwing me into some kind of fight? Now? I don't even have a weapon!"
Instructor Varik turned, eyes cold. "This is the Portal Program, Aston. You were selected because you're expendable but potentially valuable. That means you get tested. In the field. No prep, no warnings. That's the point."
"That's insane."
"That's war."
---
Room: Orientation Chamber Alpha
James was pushed into a chamber that looked more like a holding cell crossed with a classroom. A dozen other teens stood inside, all around his age. Some looked confused. Others, terrified. One kid sat on the floor muttering prayers in four different languages.
At the front, a hologram sparked to life.
A woman with golden eyes and a crimson suit.
James froze.
Her. The woman from the vision—from wherever the hell that memory came from. Hilton.
She smiled thinly.
"Congratulations, candidates. If you are hearing this message, it means you've been selected for preliminary field testing within the Consortium Portal Initiative. You may be wondering why you. The answer is simple: you were available."
Murmurs of protest erupted.
She continued. "Each of you will be transported into a low-risk Rift Zone designated: Trial World Theta-9. You will have four hours to survive, locate an extraction beacon, and return. Success means initiation. Failure means death."
The screen flickered. A map of a dark forest appeared.
"There will be no guides. No starting gear except what you find. Some of you may awaken class traits. Most won't."
James stared. This was a meat grinder. Nothing more.
"Oh," the woman said, her smile growing, "and remember: no one is obligated to work together. In fact, only ten of you will be retrieved. That's a system cap. Choose your allies wisely."
The screen vanished.
Someone vomited.
---
Status Update:
[You are entering: TRIAL WORLD - THETA 9]
[Objective: Survive | Locate Beacon | Return]
[Secondary Objective: Optional Kill Count Ranking]
[Kill Leaderboards Activated]
[Time Limit: 4 Hours]
---
The portal chamber was a ring of silver monoliths, each humming with quiet energy. A large arch pulsed with blue-white light. James stood before it, heartbeat erratic.
Instructor Varik handed him something.
A knife.
Rusty. Short. Serrated.
"That's it?" James asked.
Varik shrugged. "Some got nothing."
"What the hell kind of RPG is this?"
"The kind where dying hurts. Step through."
James looked at the portal.
Then he stepped forward.
The world shattered again.
---
Location: TRIAL WORLD THETA-9
Environment: Corrupted Forest (Tier 0)
Threat Level: Yellow-3
Temperature: 7°C | Visibility: Low | Native Lifeforms: Hostile
Time: 03:41 AM (Earth Sync)
---
James landed in mud.
Trees loomed above him, twisted things with bark like blistered flesh. The sky was a dull grey, flickering occasionally like a dying screen. Sounds echoed in the distance—snapping branches, guttural growls.
The knife was in his hand. His heartbeat thundered.
[New Environment Detected: Stealth Bonus Activated]
[Class Trait Unlocked: Shadowstep (Passive)]
[You are harder to detect in low-light terrain.]
James crouched.
"Okay. Okay. Assassin stuff. I can work with this."
A movement to the left.
He spun.
A boy—younger than him—ran screaming through the trees.
A shadow lunged from behind. Claws. Teeth. Blood.
The boy vanished in a scream.
[Candidate 004 – Eliminated]
[Kill Leader: Hostile – Beast Type]
James pressed his back to a tree, breath shallow.
This was no simulation.
This was real.
He wasn't special. Wasn't trained. Wasn't even ready.
But he was alive.
And that was going to have to be enough.