Suddenly a voice boomed, "Form lines! Awakened to the left, ordinaries to the right!".
At once, soldiers in black armor moved through the crowd, pulling recruits into groups. Segregating them.
As for the question of how they were able to do this was simple.
There was one thing only the awakened knew: a shimmer of light in their pupils, faint but unmistakable, and the intensity of that brightness also determined the power they have been bestowed upon by. When gazes locked. Awakened could see it in each other. The ordinaries, of course, couldn't see it at all.
When the sorting was done, crimson armbands were strapped to the awakened, designating their status. Some stood taller with pride, chins lifted with arrogance. Others looked no different from the ordinaries, scared and afraid.
Taya and Lucy were herded to the right with the ordinaries. The difference was immediate—awakened drew appraising looks from officers, while ordinaries were counted like cattle, divided into clusters of fifty.
At the front of the courtyard, a raised platform loomed. Upon it stood three banners, each bearing the sigil of one of the rulers: a Trident, a Lightning Bolt, and an Eye within a triangle. These were the marks of the Triarchs—the rulers who had carved the fractured world to their domains. The military answered to no one except them.
A scarred officer with a broad frame and a cap stepped onto the platform. His voice carried like thunder:
"Listen well! You are not here to be coddled. You are here because the world no longer has room for weakness. Some of you will not see the end of your term. Many of you will die before the year is out. That is reality."
Murmurs rippled through the recruits. Fear gnawed at their fragile courage.
The officer raised a hand, silencing them.
"This is the life you have chosen—or the life that has chosen you."
He paced the platform, eyes sharp as they swept across awakened and ordinaries alike.
"Remember this: your loyalty belongs to the Triarchs—the three who hold this world together. You will fight under their banners, bleed for their domains. And when your service ends, you can choose to stay with the military or return to your homelands and defend them, or pledge yourselves to the triarchs and join under their guilds and factions. That choice will be yours… if you live long enough to see it."
A horn blared, long and deep, echoing against the crescent walls. The ceremony had begun.
Recruits were divided, names recorded and oaths sworn in blood. The awakened were led toward specialized barracks, while ordinaries were marched to the training grounds.
Taya and Lucy exchanged a glance as they shuffled forward with the line. The air stank of iron, sweat, and fear.
After the ceremony concluded, the recruits were instructed to collect their military uniforms and head toward the residential quarters designated for newcomers. The women's dormitory was split into compact rooms, each meant for two. Fortunately, Taya and Lucy were assigned together — giving them a small comfort amidst the uncertainty that loomed over them.
Both the awakened and the ordinary recruits were then summoned to the Implantation Chamber. There, a strange chip was embedded into their forearms — a tracking chip that projected a faint holographic screen, displaying personal data, orders, and status reports. It also served a grim purpose: to record whether the soldier was alive or dead, and instantly relay the report to command.
Once implanted, they were gathered in the briefing hall. Soon, strict instructions followed — details about dress code, curfew hours, and mess timings for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Discipline was the marrow of this place, and deviation was not tolerated.
For the ordinaries, the regulations were even harsher. They were forbidden to wear anything not issued by the military. That meant Taya could no longer hide beneath her cast of hair wraps or wear the Renaissance cloak that had long concealed her curse. Dread coiled in her chest, thinking about the moment they were to be set free.
Whenever Taya grew tense — whenever fear or emotion surged — the serpents beneath her skin stirred restlessly, hissing in agitation. The pain of suppressing them was excruciating, IT was like a constant battle between concealment and control.
"Instructions are to be strictly followed," barked the officer leading the briefing. His sharp gaze swept over the assembled recruits — and halted on Taya.
"You. The hooded girl," he said, voice cutting through the murmurs. "You are not permitted to wear that. Don't even think about disobeying orders. I better not see you again, outlier."
A wave of dread washed over her. Lucy, standing nearby, froze as the memory of Taya's words reminded her of the strict instructions about her veil and tightly bound hair. Her expression tightened with worry.
"Yes, sir," Taya replied quickly, trying to steady her voice. "I won't wear it again from tomorrow."
The officer gave a curt nod and continued his speech before finally dismissing the crowd.
As soon as the recruits began to disperse, Taya slipped away from sight, Lucy noticed immediately and hurried to follow, but by the time she caught sight of her again, Taya had already vanished down one of the long, dim corridors.
Taya ran straight to the dormitory, flung open the door to her new room, and locked it behind her. The silence inside was suffocating.
She pressed her back against the cold wall, breath coming in short gasps, heart hammering against her ribs. Panic clawed at her throat.
She couldn't hide anymore. Not here. Not under military eyes.
"I need to do something…" she whispered to herself, trembling. "Something drastic… before this secret devours me."
Her reflection in the small mirror across the room seemed to shimmer — and for a fleeting moment, the faint outline of darkness crept her eyes.
"What am I gonna do?" she muttered to herself.
A sharp knock echoed through the door.
"Taya! What are you doing? Please, open up!" Lucy's voice came, laced with worry.
"Would you just—stay out for a while!" Taya shouted back, her tone trembling between fear and frustration.
Silence followed, heavy and expectant.
Inside, Taya paced the room like a trapped animal, mind racing, breath uneven. Every second that passed only tightened the coil of dread in her chest. She scoured the room for a solution — any way to rid herself of this curse, to make it stop before someone found out.
Then, amid the chaos of her thoughts, a wild idea struck her — dangerous, desperate, almost unthinkable.
Her serpentine hair began to stir, the scales glinting faintly through the fabric that meant to hide them. The snakes hissed and writhed as if almost annoyed by what she was thinking as their movements grew even more.
Taya clenched her fists, a shiver running down her spine.
"Maybe… maybe this is the only way," she whispered to herself.