The great steel gates rumbled open, gears grinding like the maw of a colossal beast. Beyond them stretched the training grounds—a vast expanse of shattered buildings, burnt-out streets, and smoke drifting from simulated kaiju bombardments. The place looked less like a test field and more like the aftermath of a real disaster.
The rookies froze at the sight.
Vice-Captain Soshiro Hoshina strode ahead, hands folded behind his head like he was strolling through a park. His grin flashed under the pale dawn. "This here's your playground for the day. Don't be shy. Lots of kaiju puppets waiting inside to chew you up."
A murmur rippled through the lineup.
Kafka Hibino swallowed hard, eyes darting between the ruined buildings. Reno Ichikawa clenched his fists, jaw tight with determination. Akira Kurogiri simply narrowed his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
[Ravan: Environment scan complete. Terrain complexity moderate. Host advantage—mobility and spatial awareness. Estimated kaiju count: 14.]
Hoshina turned, his tone suddenly sharper. "Listen up! This isn't a playground—it's a battlefield simulation. You'll be facing captured daikaiju sub-beasts, leashed but not harmless. You will fight in squads, and you will survive. Or you'll be scraping yourself off the ground with what's left of your pride."
He let the words hang, watching the tension stiffen their shoulders.
"Form up, and don't make me bored."
The rookies shuffled, weapons in hand. The standard-issue combat suits glinted faintly in the morning light—sleek, skin-tight armor designed to maximize release force and keep them agile. Each recruit had chosen their gear: rifles, blasters, swords.
Akira strapped a rifle across his back but chose a blade and sidearm, testing their weight with calm precision. Reno tightened the straps of his rifle, determination burning in his eyes. Kafka fumbled with the holster of his gun, earning a few quiet laughs from nearby recruits.
"Man's gonna shoot his own foot," one whispered.
"Or cry before the first kaiju shows up," another snickered.
Kafka's face went red, but Reno clapped his shoulder firmly. "Ignore them. We've got this."
Up on the observation deck, Captain Mina Ashiro watched from behind a bank of holo-screens, her officers at her side.
Kikuchihara Eiji's voice crackled as he adjusted his headset. "Visual and vitals confirmed. Heart rates spiking across the board. Shinomiya steady at 78 bpm. Kurogiri… oddly flat. Almost no spike at all."
Mina's eyes flickered to Akira, expression unreadable.
Another operator, Ikaruga, called out: "Kaiju cages released. Units moving toward rookies' coordinates."
From within the ruins, guttural roars erupted—feral, bone-shaking. Shadows shifted through the smoke, claws dragging against concrete.
The rookies stiffened, nerves raw.
Hoshina leaned casually against a half-collapsed wall, watching. "Showtime."
The first clash came fast. Two recruits fired blindly into the smoke, panicking. The recoil nearly knocked them off their feet. Their shots sparked harmlessly against armored hides as the kaiju surged closer.
"Hold your line!" Haruichi Izumo's voice rang clear as he leveled his blade. His strike was precise, cutting across a sub-beast's shoulder. Aoi Kaguragi followed with a wild shout, swinging heavy and reckless. The two fought back-to-back, their contrasting styles somehow holding ground.
Kikoru Shinomiya shot forward on her own, her movements crisp, elegant, merciless. Her axe tore through a kaiju's jaw with a brutal snap, ichor spraying across the cracked pavement. She didn't wait for backup, carving her own path through the beasts.
"Impressive," Kikuchihara muttered. "Shinomiya's at 46% release and still pushing beyond recorded limits."
Hoshina's grin widened. "Told you. She's her old man's daughter."
Meanwhile, Kafka stumbled as his shots went wide. His opponent—a snarling, tusked kaiju—barreled past his line of fire. Kafka tripped, barely rolling aside before the monster's claw shredded the earth where he had stood.
"Damn it!" Kafka gasped, scrambling back.
"Kafka!" Reno shouted, firing a volley to cover him. The blasts slowed the kaiju, but not enough.
Akira stepped forward, blade flashing in a clean arc. Steel split hide with a sharp crack, and the beast reeled, collapsing in a heap. Smoke rose from the wound as Akira calmly wiped his blade.
[Ravan: Efficiency rating optimal. Host concealing true velocity. Probability of peer envy: 81%.]
Kafka's chest heaved, shame tightening in his throat. "I… I couldn't even scratch it…"
Reno knelt by him, gripping his shoulder. "Don't say that. You're still standing. That counts for more than you think."
But Kafka didn't smile. His eyes followed Kikoru, who fought like a storm, her strength undeniable. He followed Akira, whose calm precision left everyone else in his shadow.
And inside, a bitter truth gnawed at him.
"I'm useless."
From the deck, Mina's gaze lingered on Kafka longer than the others. Her voice was low. "That one percent… it doesn't explain him. Keep the monitors on him."
Hoshina's smirk faded just slightly. He didn't comment.
The battle raged on in smoke and fire, rookies shouting, weapons cracking, kaiju roaring. But in Kafka's chest, silence drowned it all—heavy, suffocating.
The chapter closed on his clenched fists, trembling.