"VEEEEP VOOOP VEEEEP VOOOP..."
The shrill blare of the alarm sliced through the dead of night, its piercing wails rattling the thin walls of the rookies' bunkers. Seconds later, the grating voice of the rookie instructor bellowed through the intercom.
"WAKE UP, MAGGOTS! It's 0300 hours. Get up, get dressed, and haul your sorry carcasses to training ground E54 by 0330 sharp. Latecomers will face... punishment."
The threat hung in the air like a loaded gun.
Groaning, I rolled off the cot and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. A quick glance around the dimly lit room revealed a sea of half-asleep, disheveled teenagers stumbling to comply.
Most were still clinging to their blankets as if they could bargain for a few more precious seconds of rest.
"Welcome to military daycare," I muttered, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My voice, dry with sarcasm, went unnoticed in the chaos.
Sliding into my combat uniform, I snatched up my boots and laced them with practiced efficiency.
Fifteen years of hacking had taught me to work well under pressure, but even with that experience, I wasn't a fan of being yanked out of REM sleep by someone screaming like a drill sergeant auditioning for a B-grade action flick.
By the time I stepped into the frosty night air, the training ground was already bustling with rookies in various states of readiness. Spotlights illuminated the field, casting long, sharp shadows.
The rookie instructor, a bear of a man with a voice like gravel in a blender, stood on a raised platform, arms crossed as he glared at us like we owed him rent.
"Listen up, rookies!" he barked, his voice echoing across the field. "Today's initiation will separate the wheat from the chaff. Your mission: survive the Jungle Simulation Arena. Work with your assigned partner, collect as many identification tags as you can, and avoid getting your sorry asses sent back to the start."
A buzz rippled through the crowd. The Jungle was infamous—an advanced simulation designed to mimic the worst kind of survival scenario. I'd heard rumors about it even before arriving at GEA. The terrain shifted, traps sprang up out of nowhere, and senior students patrolled like predators hunting fresh meat.
The instructor's grin widened as if he enjoyed our collective unease. "The top ten teams will be rewarded handsomely. Private rooms, free gacha spins, Talent Academy Points—enough incentives to motivate even the laziest of you."
A murmur of excitement broke out. Incentives like those were rare, and TAP could be traded for almost anything, including enhanced gear, priority missions, or even better food.
The instructor raised a holopad and began calling out names, pairing rookies into tag teams.
"Adler and… Draxler!"
I blinked. Draxler?
I was stunned for a moment, but then a wave of relief washed over me. Of course. We'd bonded during orientation.
In a place like this, where the line between friend and rival blurred every day, Atlas had been an unexpected ally. He wasn't as chatty as the others, but we'd spent enough time together during the orientation day that I felt a genuine sense of comradeship with him.
"Glad to have you as my partner, Adler," Atlas said, flashing an easy grin. Despite being lanky with sharp features, his grin was disarmingly approachable, and his confidence was evident in every step he took.
I returned the smile, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease. "Yeah, me too. At least I know I won't be stuck with a rookie who'll freeze up under pressure."
Atlas gave a short, dry chuckle. "I'm not the freezing type."
Once the teams were assigned, a shimmering portal opened in the center of the training ground. It pulsed with energy, swirling as if it were alive.
The other rookies passed through in pairs, most of them nervous, some excited. One by one, pairs stepped through, vanishing into the simulation. But I could already tell—Atlas and I would work well together.
"Ready?" I asked.
Atlas grinned. "You bet."
The world shifted as we stepped into the portal.
*******
The simulation had a weight to it. The kind of weight that makes your bones feel like they're sinking into the ground, that presses down on your chest like the air itself is thick with a thousand eyes, all watching your every move.
It was just a game, right? Just another simulation thrown at us to test our skills.
But it felt real. Too real.
I checked my wristband. 0400 hours.
The digital timer ticking down felt like a countdown to something far more dangerous than I'd expected.
A small, yet clear indicator on the display read Arena: Jungle Zone. The "zone" was practically alive—alive with every buzzing insect, every swaying leaf, every distant growl that sent a shiver through your spine.
It wasn't just the heat that made the air thick; it was the feeling that at any second, something in the foliage could leap out and rip your throat open.
"Let's make this quick," Atlas muttered, already scanning the area through his high-powered scope. His eyes flicked from tree to tree, from shadow to shadow. "Four hours. We're getting all the tags."
I nodded, already deploying a swarm of drones. The palm-sized bots zipped into the air, scanning the perimeter and relaying back data in real time. Their tiny lenses whirred with a soft hum, sending data to my HUD.
I barely had to think to coordinate them. They were extensions of my senses now—my eyes, my ears.
"You're really getting good with those things," Atlas murmured. I could hear the hint of admiration beneath the casual tone.
"Don't worry, I'll keep up," I replied with a grin, fully aware of his usual gruffness. It was an old joke between us.
Atlas was the kind of guy who led by example, always charging ahead like the classic hero.
Me? I preferred playing the tech side.
And together? We made one hell of a team. I knew it, and he knew it. Despite his nonchalant exterior, Atlas didn't mind my way of getting things done.
The first target appeared quicker than I expected—a tag nestled in the branches of a massive tree. Below it, the glacial pond shimmered like glass. The scene looked peaceful, almost serene.
But that's exactly how they set you up, right? Lull you into a false sense of security. The moment we made our move, I knew we'd be met with resistance.
"Stay sharp," Atlas muttered, scanning the surroundings. "Something's not right."
A shadow shifted among the trees, and I instinctively had my drones take up a defensive position.
My HUD flickered slightly, a flicker of a warning from the system: Hostile presence detected. The drone feeds started showing heat signatures—faint but unmistakable.
And there, perched by the edge of the icy water, was Liam Kael. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"Frostbite," I muttered under my breath.
Of course, it had to be him. We'd tangled with seniors before, but this guy was known for his ice-based abilities.
Cryomancer, they called it. He wasn't a slouch by any means, but the way he was standing—smirk plastered across his face—told me he wasn't taking us seriously.
"Rookies," he said with a dismissive sneer, his voice dripping with condescension. "So eager to get wrecked."
His fingers twitched, and instantly, a long ice spike formed in his hand, glistening in the pale light filtering through the jungle canopy. He held it up lazily, almost like he was toying with us.
"You sure you want to try that?" Atlas shot back, raising his rifle and keeping his eyes locked on Frostbite. His tone was sharp, not giving an inch.
"Always," Frostbite drawled, and in an instant, he slammed his palm against the ground. The entire glacial pond froze over with an unnatural speed, the ice spreading outward like a deadly web.
I cursed under my breath. It was going to be that kind of fight.
"Got a plan?" Atlas asked, not taking his eyes off Frostbite.
"Work smarter, not harder," I replied, setting my jaw.
My HUD flickered, activating the drones in defense mode. A pulse of electricity surged through the air, and the drones responded by releasing an Electrostatic Pulse that crackled across the ice.
The ice shuddered under the impact, fracturing and splintering as the electric charge coursed through it.
Frostbite's smirk faltered, but he didn't back down. Instead, his hands moved with precision, weaving a new layer of frost over the cracks, sealing them shut. He was trying to buy time, trying to bait us into making a move.
"Take the shot!" I yelled at Atlas, just as one of the cracks in the ice expanded enough for an opening.
Without missing a beat, Atlas adjusted his aim. The sound of his laser rifle cracking the silence was the only warning we had before the glowing beam shot out, straight for Frostbite's frost shield. The moment the beam struck, the ice around Frostbite splintered, and he stumbled backward, momentarily stunned.
This was our opening.
Atlas didn't hesitate. He clicked a button on his scope, activating the Phantom Shot—a feature that allowed him to bypass most conventional shields.
The next shot was faster than the last, and in a blink, it hit Frostbite square in the chest, sending him crashing backward onto the ice, his shield flickering and collapsing under the impact.
System Notification: Target Frostbite defeated. One tag secured.
The tag was ours.
As Frostbite dissolved into shimmering particles, I let out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. The win felt good, but the thrill of it didn't last. We still had more ground to cover, and this was just the beginning.
Frostbite's resistance had been harder than I'd expected, and there were still plenty more seniors roaming these digital jungles.
I tapped into my comms. "That was too close. How's the energy looking?"
Atlas didn't answer immediately, scanning the area. "Energy's good. But we're not done yet."
My drones flitted around, gathering up the scattered data and tagging the area. Frostbite's resistance had taken a chunk of our time, and the terrain was shifting again.
The Jungle system was tweaking things on the fly, changing the environment to increase the difficulty, like it always did. The jungle was alive—alive with danger.
System Notification: Hostile presence detected—reinforcements incoming. Stage two of the simulation will commence in 10 minutes.
I glanced up from the system display. "Guess the easy part's over."
"Not like we expected this to be easy," Atlas replied, checking his rifle once more. "We've got three and a half hours left. Let's make the next one count."
And then, as if to punctuate the challenge, the ground trembled beneath us.
Not from the typical simulated quakes, but something... heavier. Something more deliberate. The sound of shifting rocks echoed through the trees, and that's when I saw it.
Another senior.