Months had passed since the recruits first stepped into the Terran Defense Corps training grounds. The wide-eyed teenagers who had arrived fresh from colonies and fortress-cities were gone. What remained were hardened shapes — leaner, faster, sharper. They had been pushed, broken down, and rebuilt by weeks of relentless conditioning: dawn-to-dusk drills, hand-to-hand combat, squad simulations, live-fire gauntlets.
Sirius Blake had adapted like a machine fine-tuned under pressure. His body moved with economy now, reflexes sharpened, calculations firing almost before thought. His cheerful grin remained, but behind it was something else — readiness.
Yet even as their bodies grew strong, whispers moved among the barracks. Everyone had heard the word passed down from upperclassmen in hushed tones. A step beyond training. A step that separated survivors from casualties.
Enhancement.
That night, the barracks was silent.
Normally it buzzed with Jinx's chatter, Sparks' complaints, or Stone's dry humor. But now, every recruit lay awake in stillness, staring at the ceiling or fiddling with their gear.
Sirius checked his utility belt twice, making sure his tools were tucked safely. He didn't know why — instinct, maybe. ARI's calm whisper broke the silence in his mind.
> "The upcoming procedure will push both physical and neurological thresholds. Probability of minor injury: twenty-eight percent. Severe injury: seven percent. Prepare accordingly."
Sirius exhaled through his nose. "You really know how to lull me to sleep, ARI."
> "Statement of risk improves readiness."
"Or raises ulcers," Sirius muttered.
Across the room, Jinx stretched his arms over and over, muttering, "Can't break me. Won't break me." Stone sat cross-legged, eyes closed, his chest rising in calm meditation. Bear punched the floor in slow, heavy intervals, low growls rumbling with each impact. Whisper flipped silently through a medical guide on her datapad, lips moving as she memorized responses to shock and trauma. Sparks tinkered compulsively with a stripped rifle bolt she'd smuggled into the barracks, muttering each adjustment under her breath. Shade lay on his bunk, eyes open, utterly still. Watching the ceiling. Or maybe watching all of them.
No one spoke. The silence was its own weight.
Dawn broke gray and sharp.
The yard was too quiet. No drill instructors barking, no obstacle courses humming. Just recruits lined up, armored, tense. Dew clung to the metal of the simulator domes. The air tasted of ozone.
Colonel Varek emerged from the observation tower, a looming figure carved in steel and discipline. His presence alone silenced the faint murmurs.
"Recruits," he said, voice cutting like a blade. "Today you face your final test. Not strength alone. Not skill alone. But endurance of the next step. Enhancement."
The word landed heavy, final. A ripple of nervous gasps swept the formation.
Sirius clenched his fists. He'd trained until his body screamed — but this was something else.
> "Procedure integrates neurological augmentation, muscular reinforcement, reflex optimization. Duration per subject: three to six hours. Pain index: extreme. Probability of successful integration without trauma: sixty-four percent," ARI intoned.
Sirius muttered under his breath, "You call that reassuring?"
> "Your father projected higher rates of survivability in prototype models. His research informed much of this procedure. Correlation: seventy-two percent that he anticipated your compatibility."
Sirius froze, throat tight. "Wait—my father had a hand in this?"
> "Correct. Files inaccessible at current clearance. Suggestion: survive procedure to pursue inquiry."
Sirius swallowed hard. His father's ghost lingered everywhere. Even here.
The recruits were marched into a circular chamber. Pods lined the walls, sleek metal coffins bristling with connectors, their interiors lined with neural interfaces and exo-armature restraints. Technicians in sterile coats moved between them, checking feeds and muttering codes.
One technician leaned close to an instructor, voice low but not low enough. "Some don't make it. Not everyone's wiring can take the load."
The words sank into the recruits like knives. Jinx's hands shook. Even Stone's calm mask flickered. Sirius caught Sparks biting her lip. Whisper's knuckles tightened white around her datapad. Shade didn't flinch.
Sirius forced a grin. "Well, that's one way to motivate us."
He was guided to his pod at the center. The metal cradle hissed open. Straps coiled across his chest and limbs, pinning him down. Cool neural connectors aligned with his temples and spine.
ARI's voice threaded through his skull, steady, grounding.
> "Sirius, focus on stabilizing neural pathways. Visualize the flow. Align synapses. You must endure."
He nodded faintly, forcing his breath slow. "I'm not breaking, ARI."
The pod hummed. A chill spread across his skin. Then—
The pain hit.
Not sharp at first, but a vibration through every nerve, like his body was a wire stretched to snapping. Then it sharpened, searing, like being rewired alive. Every muscle spasmed. His teeth clenched hard. Screams echoed across the chamber — Jinx howling, Bear roaring guttural, Sparks cursing through clenched teeth, Whisper's breath hitching, Shade… silent.
> "Focus, Sirius. Neural alignment in progress. Control breathing. Visualize: current through a circuit. Pathways stabilizing."
Numbers and diagrams bloomed across his vision — synapses firing, muscles syncing. He latched onto them, forcing the pain into patterns, into something he could fix.
The agony dulled to rhythm. He endured.
Nearby, Jinx convulsed violently. His pod blared alarms. "No, no, no—don't break me—!"
Sirius twisted his eyes toward ARI's overlays. There. A misaligned energy flow. "ARI, help me reroute!"
> "Confirmed. Adjusting neural discharge pattern. Intervention window: twelve seconds."
Sirius forced his own pod's neural sync to pulse outward, bridging with Jinx's system just long enough to redirect the surge. Jinx's spasms eased. His breathing steadied.
> "Minor intervention successful. Probability of Jinx's full integration increased to eighty-one percent," ARI reported.
Sweat soaked Sirius' brow. He gritted his teeth. "We're not losing anyone."
Time blurred. Pain twisted into exhaustion. Recruits screamed, groaned, fell silent. The pods hummed lower. Slowly, one by one, the systems powered down.
Sirius' restraints released. He sat up, trembling but alive. His fingers flexed — faster, sharper, controlled. His whole body hummed with new precision.
> "Enhancement integration complete. Neural reflexes: plus three percent. Muscular response: plus two percent. No trauma detected. Operational readiness: high," ARI recited.
Sirius exhaled, laughing breathlessly. "Still in one piece."
Around him, recruits staggered out. Some cheered weakly, flexing new muscles. Others were pale, shaken, haunted. Medics swarmed the few whose procedures left burns or spasms.
Bear grunted and rolled his shoulders, a satisfied smile cracking his usual scowl. Whisper rubbed at trembling hands but forced a nod when Sirius caught her eye. Sparks muttered, "…worth it," and kept tinkering with her rifle bolt as if nothing had changed. Jinx collapsed against the wall, panting, then flashed Sirius a shaky thumbs-up.
Shade emerged last, silent as always. He didn't flex, didn't grin. He simply stood, eyes still, breathing steady — too steady. Almost unnatural. His gaze flicked once to Sirius, unreadable, then away.
Colonel Varek strode forward, boots echoing. He surveyed them like a blacksmith inspecting weapons from the forge.
"You have endured the Trial of Enhancement," he said. "Your bodies, your minds, your reflexes are now prepared for war. But do not mistake this for victory. The Hivebugs evolve. They adapt. And now, so must you."
His eyes lingered on Sirius for a beat longer than the rest, narrowing faintly — not in disapproval, not in praise, but in calculation.
Sirius forced a grin back, though his gut twisted.
> "Observation: Varek suspects anomaly. Discovery probability rising," ARI warned.
Sirius whispered through clenched teeth, "Then we stay invisible."
That night, the barracks hummed with low voices again. Exhausted laughter, nervous boasts, relief. Sirius lay back, staring at the ceiling. His body ached, but every nerve felt sharper, like the world itself moved slower around him.
> "Log it, ARI."
> "Enhancements recorded. Neural reflex plus three percent. Muscular response plus two percent. Squad cohesion: stable. Jinx owes survival to your intervention."
Sirius smiled faintly. "Good. Then we're even stronger together."
He turned his head, watching his squad. Jinx sprawled, still muttering in half-sleep. Stone sat in meditation again, but his breaths were quicker now. Bear snored like thunder. Whisper's hands twitched even in rest, muscles adapting. Sparks polished her rifle bolt, as if it held her sanity. Shade lay perfectly still, eyes closed… but Sirius wasn't sure he was sleeping.
The Hivebugs were out there, relentless and waiting. But now? So were they.
Sirius closed his eyes, ARI's hum steady in his skull. For the first time, he felt less like a recruit and more like a soldier.
And tomorrow, the real war would begin.