Vasco walked alongside Othon, trying to start a conversation.
"So, Commander, how does this training work?" Vasco asked.
Othon kept walking without answering, his posture rigid and his gaze fixed straight ahead. Vasco tried again.
"Have you trained many miners before?"
Silence. Only the sound of Othon's metal boots echoed on the steel floor of the corridor. Vasco sighed, realizing he wouldn't get a response. He decided to follow in silence.
After a few minutes of walking, they arrived in front of a massive hangar. The automatic doors slid open, revealing enormous exoskeletons lined up, their lights flashing in a cold blue hue. At the center of the space, fifteen other people were already waiting. Some had mechanical arms, others had cybernetic eyes glowing in the dim light. They all looked experienced, and Vasco felt out of place.
Before entering the room, Othon finally stopped and turned to Vasco. His gaze was severe.
"Listen carefully, kid. Life here is tough and dangerous. Any mistake can mean death. You need to be ready for this challenge. Even more so, being an ANALOG."
Vasco frowned.
"Analog?"
Othon scoffed and crossed his arms.
"It means you don't have a neural implant. You're just a regular human. And regular humans don't usually last very long."
Vasco felt a chill in his stomach. He knew the job would be difficult, but he hadn't expected to start at a disadvantage. He took a deep breath and held his gaze steady.
As soon as Othon entered the room, one of the people already inside stood up and shouted in a firm voice:
"Attention! Commander Othon has just entered the premises!"
Silence fell over the room. Everyone stood still, waiting for the next command. Othon studied the group for a moment before speaking.
"Make yourselves comfortable. I want each of you in front of an exoskeleton. NOW."
The newcomers hesitated for a few seconds. Some stared at the massive exoskeletons, unsure if they should even touch them. Othon didn't like the delay.
"Push-ups! Now! I want 20 repetitions!"
Othon locked eyes with each newcomer until they completed all 20 repetitions.
Their arms started trembling before they even finished the first set, but no one dared to stop.
As soon as the last one finished, Othon shouted:
"Come to me!"
The group obeyed and ran to where Othon stood.
"Let's try again."
Othon paused, looking each recruit in the eye.
"Everyone, in front of an exoskeleton. Move!"
They ran back but still took too long. Othon sighed and crossed his arms.
"Push-ups again! Then, come to me."
The drill repeated. They tried, hesitated, and received more orders. It took nearly ten attempts before everyone finally moved into position quickly, without needing further commands.
Othon walked among them, studying each exhausted and breathless face. Then, he stopped in the center of the room and raised his voice.
"Now you're starting to understand. The mines of Mars are not a playground. This place has already claimed many lives. If you want to survive, you'll have to prove you're good enough."
He looked each of them in the eye, his sharp gaze piercing through their determination.
"Here, weakness means death. Fear means failure. Are you ready for this? Or should I send you back home?"
No one answered immediately. Then, one of the recruits, still catching his breath, shouted:
"We're ready, sir!"
The others repeated, their voices echoing through the hangar.
Othon nodded, satisfied.
"Then let's see what you're made of. Training starts now."
Othon crossed his arms and looked at the group.
"Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?"
One of the recruits, a skinny young man with a frail appearance, hesitantly raised his hand.
"Are we working in the mines, or are we training for the army?"
Othon narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening.
"I see you all want to learn the hard way. Everyone, push-ups! Now!"
The recruits dropped to the ground and started counting.
"One... Two... Three..." Othon walked among them as he spoke.
"You think this is a joke? Thought you'd just grab a shovel and start digging? You're mistaken!"
His voice echoed through the hangar. The only sounds were the heavy breathing and strained grunts of the recruits.
"Strong steel is forged in the hottest fire! If you think this is excessive, know that people die in these mines every single day. A collapse, an oxygen leak, a mistake while handling equipment... any slip-up can cost you your life!"
Othon paused briefly, scanning the recruits' sweat-covered faces.
"Hard training, easy battle! If you suffer here, you'll survive out there. And I don't want to see any of you carried out in a body bag. If you're here, you're going to learn how to survive!"
He waited a few more seconds before giving his next command.
"On your feet!"
The recruits stood up, still struggling to catch their breath. Othon observed them for a moment, then crossed his arms again.
"Now let's see if you've finally understood."
Othon walked around the hangar, locking eyes with each recruit before speaking.
"If anyone wants to leave, the doors are open. I only want the best."
He paused, waiting for a reaction. Silence filled the room. No one moved. No one dared to speak.
Othon slowly nodded.
"Very well. Now, does anyone else have any questions?"
Once again, absolute silence.
He then stopped in front of one of the recruits, a boy with an uncertain look.
"You! What are you going to learn in this training?"
The recruit opened his mouth but couldn't form an answer. He stammered, hesitated, and finally lowered his head.
Othon sighed and turned to Vasco da Gama.
"And you? The one I had to babysit and bring here today. What's your name?"
"Vasco da Gama, sir."
Othon raised an eyebrow.
"Unusual name... Now tell me, Vasco da Gama, what are you going to learn in this training?"
Vasco hesitated. He wanted to give an intelligent answer, but the truth was, he didn't know.
"I don't know, sir."
Othon closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and shook his head before shouting:
"Push-ups! Everyone! Now! If no one knows what they're going to learn, it means you still have doubts! So let's fix that with pain!"
The entire group dropped to the ground once more, their arms already trembling with exhaustion. Othon began counting.
"One... Two... Three..."
The training was far from over.
Othon watched the exhausted recruits lying on the floor and crossed his arms.
"Since none of you know, we'll start with the physical part, then."
He continued commanding the exercises—push-ups, sprints, jumping jacks, and every type of physical drill. For almost an hour, the recruits were pushed to their limits, sweating and gasping for air, unable to complain.
Othon showed no signs of fatigue. He simply walked among them, correcting postures and barking orders.
By the time he finally ended the exercises, the recruits could barely stand.
"Now that you understand what effort is, let's move on to what really matters," Othon said, looking at each of them. "In the mines, there are several areas of expertise. At first, you will go through basic training in each one to determine where you have the most aptitude."
The recruits exchanged glances, some trying to catch their breath, others simply absorbing the commander's words.
Othon pointed to the enormous exoskeletons lined up in the hangar.
"The first thing you will learn is how to use an exoskeleton. Who here has used one before?"
Most remained silent. Only two raised their hands.
Othon slowly nodded.
"Alright. Before we use these massive machines, we'll start with the smaller models. If you can't control a basic one, you have no chance with these."
He gestured toward a row of more compact exoskeletons at the back of the room.
"Let's see if you can learn quickly or if you'll end up on the ground again."
Othon walked up to the smaller exoskeletons and knocked on the metal frame of one.
"Everyone, suit up in these exoskeletons now! I want to see who follows orders fast."
The smaller exoskeletons were compact pieces of equipment, covering only essential parts of the body. They had hydraulic supports on the legs and arms, enhancing strength and endurance. A metal casing protected the torso, and built-in motors assisted movement. Unlike the massive models, these were more agile and served as an introduction to exoskeleton training.
The recruits, still exhausted, began putting on the equipment. The process wasn't simple—some took too long to adjust properly, while others struggled to secure the safety locks. Othon watched everything, his patience wearing thin.
"Fasten the belts, adjust the pressure on your limbs, and activate the motors. I don't want anyone freezing up in the middle of training."
After a few minutes, everyone was finally suited up. Othon scanned the group and gave the next order.
"First stage: walking. Seems easy? Let's see if it really is."
The recruits took their first steps hesitantly. The exoskeletons amplified their movements, making each step feel more abrupt than expected. Some staggered like drunkards, trying to compensate for the suit's power. Others, less fortunate, went straight to the ground with a metallic crash.
Vasco felt the weight of the equipment, but instead of fighting against it, he tried to move with its flow. His steps were careful, sensing the suit's response time, adapting to the pressure it exerted on his legs.
Othon watched everything with cold eyes. His tone carried nothing but disdain.
"Pathetic! If you can't even walk, imagine surviving inside a mine! Get up and keep going!"
The recruits groaned, struggling to get back on their feet. The impact of their falls still reverberated through their bodies. But there was no alternative. With each attempt, they adapted a little more until their clumsy steps started to become steadier.
Vasco moved forward with confidence. His movements were fluid, as if he had trained before. His body quickly absorbed the necessary adjustments to control the exoskeleton. In no time, he was walking effortlessly.
Othon noticed.
"Now for the balance test! I want everyone crossing that narrow platform. If you fall, you start over from zero!"
The recruits turned their eyes toward the suspended platform. Narrow and elevated, any mistake would mean a painful fall. Fear was visible on many faces.
One by one, they attempted to cross. Some trembled, hesitated, and lost their balance before even reaching halfway. The sound of bodies hitting the ground echoed through the hangar. Othon did not hold back.
"Balance your weight! Strength is useless if you can't even walk straight!"
Vasco took a deep breath. His heart pounded, but he focused on the challenge. He stepped onto the platform and took his first step.
The exoskeleton responded instantly, adjusting his posture. He kept his gaze forward, his muscles relaxed. Step by step, he advanced without hesitation.
The others stopped to watch. The boy from the orphanage, with no prior experience, moved across the path as if it were second nature. Adrenaline surged through his body, but he never wavered.
When he stepped off the platform without ever losing his balance, he lifted his gaze to Othon.
The commander crossed his arms and nodded.
"Very good! Finally, someone who knows how to use their legs."
The comment weighed on the shoulders of the other recruits. Now feeling the pressure, they pushed themselves harder until they finally managed to cross. One by one, they adjusted, stumbled less, and at last, every single one completed the challenge.
But the training was far from over.
"Now, running! These exoskeletons can reach 100 km/h. I want to see who really controls the machine!"
The recruits exchanged uncertain glances. For many, just the thought of running at that speed was terrifying. But hesitation was not an option.
Othon raised his arm. "Get ready!"
The air grew heavy. The exoskeletons' engines purred, ready to launch. The recruits took their positions.
"Go!"
The suits propelled their bodies forward.
In the first few seconds, it was pure chaos. Brutal acceleration. The ground blurred beneath them. The wind roared in their ears.
Some couldn't control the momentum. One stumbled, tumbling clumsily onto the metallic floor. Another lost balance and crashed into a pillar. The impact echoed through the hangar. Shouts of frustration mixed with the sound of roaring engines.
Vasco, on the other hand, felt something different.
The suit was not an enemy. It was an extension of his body.
He adjusted his posture, leaned forward, and let the machine guide his movements. The wind slashed across his face, but he didn't blink. His eyes were locked on the horizon.
Every stride was precise. His feet touched the ground in perfect rhythm. He didn't fight the machine—he flowed with it.
Soon, he realized he was leaving the others behind.
Adrenaline exploded through his veins. A grin spread across his face. He pressed forward, accelerating even more. The ground vanished beneath his feet, and the finish line drew closer.
Cheering voices echoed in the background, but he barely heard them.
With one final push, Vasco crossed the finish line first. The engines hissed as they slowed down. His chest rose and fell, but exhaustion never came. Only the exhilaration of victory.
Othon watched with arms crossed. For a brief moment, a smirk flickered on his face.
"Looks like we have a runner here. Very good!"
The other recruits arrived shortly after, some panting, others frustrated with their own mistakes.
Othon stepped forward, his voice returning to its cold, commanding tone.
"But don't think you're special just because you were the fastest. There are more tests coming.
The next stage was brute force.
Metal blocks were brought into the center of the warehouse. Some weighed 100 kg. Others, a monstrous 200 kg. The floor trembled when the last blocks were placed.
Othon turned to the newcomers, his eyes sharp as a blade.
"Now I want to see strength! Without technique, without control, these suits are useless. Lift the weights!"
The recruits hesitated. Some looked at the blocks with doubt. For any ordinary person, lifting those would be impossible.
But they were no longer just humans.
The first newcomer stepped forward. He bent his knees and grabbed a 100 kg block. He put in the effort, expecting a crushing weight.
The block lifted off the ground easily.
His eyes widened. That was not normal.
The others saw this and followed his example. They grabbed the blocks and lifted them with ease. Their bodies, enhanced by exoskeletons, made it look like they were lifting simple sandbags.
Excitement grew. Some even challenged themselves by lifting 200 kg or trying to lift two blocks at the same time.
Vasco felt the adrenaline rush. He went to the biggest block available. 200 kg. His metallic fingers closed around the cold piece.
He took a deep breath and pulled.
The block rose as if it were made of plastic. He raised it above his head and looked at Othon.
The commander kept a serious face, but there was a hint of approval in his eyes.
"Not bad. But remember: it's not the machine that makes the warrior. It's the warrior who masters the machine."
The newcomers could hardly believe what they were doing. For the first time, they felt truly strong.
But Othon wasn't going to let them relax.
"Extra round of exercises! Push-ups, jumping jacks, running! I want to see you sweating!"
This time, however, no one showed any signs of fatigue. The exoskeletons did all the heavy work, easing the load on their muscles.
Othon then crossed his arms and delivered a lesson:
"Now you understand. The machines are here to help you. With them, you are stronger, faster, and more efficient. But don't rely solely on them. If you don't learn to control them, you'll just be empty shells inside a heap of metal."
He looked at each of the newcomers, making sure they were listening.
"This was just the beginning. Tomorrow, you'll discover what it really means to work in the Martian mines."
Othon looked at the exhausted recruits and then spoke in a firm tone:
"You're dismissed. That's all for today."
Vasco checked his watch and was surprised to see that their work hours were already over. In fact, they were almost missing the train back! Without wasting any time, he and the other newcomers started running in a panic. As they ran, one of them shouted, "We're going to miss the train! There's only 3 minutes left until departure!"