The clang of steel doors shattered the silence of dawn. Rows of cadets stood at attention inside the Ion Sector Zone's central training hub—a colossal structure built from cold metal and ambition. The air reeked of sterilized liquid and burning circuits.
Auren's pulse raced. The smooth floor reflected lines of fluorescent light that led toward a ring of massive machines lined against the walls. Each one hissed gently, releasing vapors that shimmered like silver smoke.
The instructor's voice cut through the murmurs. "Welcome to your first step toward transcendence. Today, we begin your Physical Fortification Program."
Auren exchanged glances with his batchmates. Nobody dared to speak. Even Alys, standing a few paces ahead, remained still. Her eyes—sharp, calculating—glimmered coldly under the lights. She was perfection sculpted from frost, the kind of cadet who never faltered, never hesitated.
"The machines you see before you," the instructor continued, "simulate enhanced gravitational pressure while injecting a stabilizing antidote compound into your bloodstream. It will test your physical tolerance. Survive it, and your body becomes stronger. Fail... and you'll understand weakness on a cellular level."
One by one, cadets were strapped into the sleek metallic harnesses. Auren felt the cold bite of steel against his skin as tubes latched onto his arms. A bluish fluid pulsed through the transparent cables, dripping into his veins. Then came the weight—the crushing, invisible force of gravity magnified tenfold. His chest caved as if the air had turned to molten lead. Auren tolerance level was grade A ...then come alys turn she barely flinched. She endured the pain with an expression that could cut glass. Even through the haze of agony, Auren noticed her faint smirk—a quiet superiority.
By the time the session ended, sweat mixed with blood on most faces. Yet Alys looked untouched, her white-blond hair unruffled, her icy stare fixed forward as if daring the world to challenge her.
A week passed like a blur of exhaustion and metallic echoes. Then came the next test.
The cadets stood again, this time inside a vast circular hall that pulsed with eerie green light. The walls shimmered like they were alive. At the chamber's center stood a large organic-looking cylinder—a device unlike any Auren had ever seen.
The instructor gestured toward it. "The Bio-Fortitude Analyzer. It measures the inner strength of your essence—your resistance to collapse,soul corruption, and fear."
Alys stepped forward without being called. She stood tall, her chin raised, eyes narrowed as the device hummed to life. Symbols scrolled across the monitor: 25%, 31%, 37%. The numbers froze.
"Fortitude level: Thirty-seven percent," announced the instructor.
Alys's lips curved upward just slightly. It wasn't gratitude. It was triumph. She turned her head, her cold gray eyes locking with Auren's. The look wasn't one of rivalry—it was a warning.
Then came Auren's turn.
He positioned himself in front of the analyzer. As his hand touched the sensor, blue energy flared up his arm. The numbers began climbing—41%. The instructor raised an eyebrow. 58%. A murmur rolled through the crowd. 60%.
The instructor smiled, impressed. "Excellent resilience, Cadet Auren. It seems we may have found our—"
Auren flinched. The world tilted suddenly. A wave of heat tore through his chest. Something inside him stirred—ancient, violent, alive. His breath hitched as invisible claws tore through his energy.
The machine's readings began to plummet—50%, 37%, 20%, 9%... then 4%.
Gasps filled the chamber.
Researchers hurried forward, frantically checking the cables and diagnostics. "No errors," one stammered. "The analyzer is functioning perfectly."
The instructor frowned, confused. Auren swayed, gripping his chest. It felt as if something was feeding on him from within, draining his strength, devouring what made him whole.
"Final results," the instructor announced after a grim pause. "Top cadet—Alys Virellis. Fortitude: thirty-seven percent. Lowest—Auren Kael. Four percent."
Alys stepped past him, her boots clicking against the floor. She stopped close enough that he could feel the icy scent of her presence.
"Looks like your strength was just a flicker," she whispered softly, her tone dripping with mock pity. "Some of us are meant to lead, Auren. Others... to break."
Her smile was sharp enough to wound, and with that final remark, she turned and walked away.
Auren stared at Alys's retreating figure, her silhouette melting into the distant corridor. For some reason, an unnamable unease gripped him. Then, like lightning striking the very core of his being, a violent jolt surged from deep within—an inner shock, raw and terrifying, as if his very soul had been wrenched. His breath caught; his body went rigid, eyes wide in disbelief.
The world around him began to swim, colors bleeding into shadow. His vision blurred, his legs trembled, and a cold numbness flooded through his veins. A hollow ringing filled his ears. What's… happening…?
"Auren!" The instructor's voice cracked through the haze, sharp with urgency. Seeing the boy sway, he lunged forward, catching him just before he collapsed. "Medical department! Hurry!"
Inside the stark white hospital ward, a tense hush hung in the air as the doctor scanned Auren's medical report. His brows knit tightly, and he let out a long, weary sigh. "I've… never seen a case like this. It's as though his body is brimming with some mysterious energy—overflowing to the point of bursting. But…" He looked grimly at the unconscious boy. "His body can't handle it."
The instructor's voice was tight. "But why all of a sudden? Out of nowhere like this?"
The doctor shook his head. "No… it's not sudden. This child has carried that power within him since early childhood. As for why it's awakening now—and why it's unstable—perhaps the fortitude test shattered the final seal holding it back. It's possible that, in the past, he faced a near-death moment, which first stirred the energy. Today… the test may have unleashed it completely."
His eyes dimmed, the weight of his words heavy. "It's a pity… that such a power, instead of granting him strength, is tearing him apart."
The instructor's voice turned desperate. "Is there any way to suppress it? Any method at all?"
The doctor paused, lips tightening, before shaking his head slowly. "Unfortunately… not."
The room fell into a suffocating silence. The faint hum of the hospital lights buzzed overhead, but it only made the stillness more oppressive. Auren lay there, pale and unmoving, his breaths shallow and uneven—like a candle struggling against the wind. The heavy truth settled over them both, cold and merciless