Chapter 4: The Transport
The instructor demonstrated quickly, passing around a replica of the Arc Sphere for the students to practice with. There was still much work to be done. Compressed rations were handed out, providing enough food for each student to survive for ten days. The essential principle of Arc Infusion was survival itself. If students could find a safe place and make it back alive, they might succeed. Even if they failed to attune, making it out alive was a victory in itself. With these rations, they could avoid the dangers of foraging in a foreign world.
As preparations finished, the classroom fell into silence. The earlier excitement waned, replaced by visible nerves; some students shifted anxiously in their seats, and a few were even sweating. Observing the tension, the instructor clapped his hands, grinning. "Alright, soon-to-be Arc Seekers, no need to worry! Get your gear together—we're heading out!"
By now, all students understood there was no turning back. The government had invested massive resources in their Arc Infusion training, and withdrawing now would mean serious consequences. The students filed out, single file, following the teacher into the mysterious Arc Chambers.
The group was led into a large, circular facility resembling a stadium, though it held row after row of small enclosed rooms rather than spectator seating. Leon recognized the setup. These were Arc Chambers: four-by-four rooms with thick concrete walls, no windows, and a single heavy steel door designed to withstand otherworldly energies.
Arc Infusion was unpredictable, filled with dangers and surprises. Most students would simply be transported briefly into the Arc World and sent back to Earth. But sometimes, luckier individuals would return with a rift—a tear in space leading to the Arc World. If stable, these rifts could expand or contract, and in cases where the Arc World's other side seemed safe, the government would step in, establishing an expedition base to explore and monitor the Arc World.
Of course, if the rift opened to something hostile, the guards stationed at the Arc facility would quickly seal or destroy it to protect Earth.
Leon took a breath to clear his thoughts as the teacher directed him into his assigned chamber. Once inside, the heavy door closed, locking him into solitude. He glanced around: a real Arc Sphere lay on the floor at the center, with a short survival knife beside it. The knife wasn't just any weapon; it was a basic survival tool. The Arc World held countless species, many far stronger than a novice like him. A simple blade could be life-saving—if he faced a challenge the knife couldn't handle, no other weapon would be enough.
Firearms, he knew, wouldn't work in the Arc World. Its unique energy field disrupted physical and chemical laws, rendering guns useless. So, the short blade would be his only defense. For a trainee like Leon, hiding and surviving was the real objective; combat was to be avoided unless absolutely necessary. In truth, if he encountered any aggressive Arc creatures, he'd likely be outmatched no matter the weapon.
Leon checked his backpack and gear, tightening every strap to make sure nothing would fall or snag. He tucked the short knife into his belt and picked up the Arc Sphere, his mind flickering to his family, his friends, and all the times he'd worked late nights, struggling to make ends meet. He took a long, steadying breath. I won't stay trapped forever.
With a determined expression, he opened the Arc Sphere's casing and inhaled. A strange energy filled the room, its ethereal scent swirling around him. As he breathed in this foreign magic, he could feel it seeping into his body, sinking into his core. The waiting began—soon, the Arc World would respond, reaching out to pull him in. Finding a comfortable position, Leon lay back, gripping the handle of his short knife.
It was hard to say how much time had passed—half an hour? An hour? Suddenly, a rift appeared behind him, tearing open with a powerful pull that yanked him into its depths. The suction tore through the chamber, pulling at every loose particle until it was empty.
…
The journey through the rift was disorienting, and Leon could barely tell if seconds or hours had passed. One moment, he was in the chamber on Earth, and in the blink of an eye, he felt himself thrown from the rift and landing with a rough jolt on the ground in a strange place. He had officially arrived in the Arc World.
Hunched slightly, Leon immediately checked his body, reminding himself of the horror stories he'd heard: some arrived missing parts, victims of the rift's unpredictable forces. Thankfully, he was intact. Next, he checked his backpack—and felt his heart drop. The bottom of his bag had been cleanly sliced open, and half of his supplies were missing.
That was close, he thought, shaken. If the rift had cut through him instead of his backpack, he'd likely be dead already.
Taking a breath, he scanned his surroundings. He had landed in what seemed to be a long-abandoned city. Vines and creeping plants had burst through the cracks in the pavement, covering roads and even climbing up the sides of buildings. Leon pulled his knife from his belt and crept forward, careful not to make a sound.
He knew nothing about this place, not even whether his arrival might have caused a disturbance. Caution was critical, and staying in one spot would be dangerous. After a few minutes of silent movement, Leon spotted a nearby building that looked somewhat intact. It stood alongside a row of similar structures, each around three stories tall.
Approaching quietly, he noticed doors had been broken open all along the ground level, and an eerie silence filled the air. Finally, he reached a metal door that was still locked, though it bore a gaping hole torn into its center. Leaning in, he observed the ragged edges of the metal—something had clawed its way through.
This place was clearly dangerous, but venturing farther would expose him to even more risk. Deciding to take his chances, Leon climbed a flight of stairs, carefully testing each step. Most of the building was quiet, with only faint echoes in the distance. For now, it seemed safe.
On the third floor, he found an open door leading into a room that looked reasonably secure. The metal door, though old, seemed intact enough to serve as a barrier. Entering quietly, he He quietly slipped into the room, placing the remaining half of his backpack on the floor.
Next, he tried to close the iron door, but it was old and rusted. A slight movement caused it to creak loudly, startling him so much that he hesitated to shut it completely.
Gripping a short knife tightly in his hand, he crept toward the other rooms in the building, his steps cautious and silent.