Subra's body tingled as his surroundings became clear—a wide, open space that seemed to hum quietly with energy. The ground beneath him was soft, the grass a vibrant green, and the air felt fresh, as if untouched by pollution or time. He stood among others—hundreds, maybe more—all spread across the park-like area. Trees dotted the field, their thick trunks giving a sense of stability to the strange place, though Subra couldn't tell what kind they were. Around them, tall dark brown walls loomed, about ten meters high, forming uneven shapes. Entrances to a maze broke the walls at intervals, dark and hollow like open mouths, ready to swallow anyone who entered.
Subra took a slow, careful step forward, his eyes following the rough lines of the nearest wall. When he reached it, he stretched out a hand, letting his fingers touch the bumpy surface. He rubbed the dust between his fingers, feeling its gritty texture. "Stone and mud," he muttered under his breath, his voice soft and barely breaking the quiet rustle of leaves around him. "Strong enough to trap us... but with the right tools, maybe..." He left the thought unfinished, unwilling to say more.
His attention shifted to the people nearby. Some wandered around in small groups or stood by themselves, their faces showing everything from panic to calm calculation. A few explored the area, while others sat on the grass, either resting or simply watching. He noticed some people eating from shiny cans, as relaxed as if they were on a picnic instead of facing the unknown.
Subra glanced down at himself and realized for the first time that he, too, carried a backpack. He shrugged it off and lowered it to the ground before sitting down next to it. The cool grass brushed against his palms, anchoring him in the moment. For a moment, he just sat there, staring blankly into the distance, his thoughts a jumble of disbelief and cautious hope.
This isn't Earth.
The realization brought a sharp feeling of loss, one he quickly pushed away. His sister's warm smile floated into his thoughts—brief and bittersweet—followed by a stab of guilt. She had moved on, started her own life. His parents were gone, and his last relationship had ended badly. There wasn't anything left for him back home. The thought felt cold, detached, but it helped him focus.
"Focus, Subra," he whispered to himself, his voice so quiet it barely carried. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and reached for the bag.
With calm, careful movements, he began unpacking its contents. A rolled-up sleeping bag, lightweight and compact. Several cans of food, each marked with the simple word "Rations." There was enough for about two weeks if he used them sparingly. He set each item aside as he went, neatly organizing everything.
His hand found something metallic and small—a folded ticket with the word EXIT stamped clearly in bold letters. He held it up, tilting it slightly to catch the light. "So, this can take me home?" he wondered aloud. His brow furrowed. "Or maybe... something worse." Shaking off the thought, he set the ticket aside and pulled out two collapsible bags. Their material felt soft but firm, like silk, though it didn't match anything familiar. "Not nylon," he muttered. "Not from Earth, either."
At the bottom of the bag, he found a notebook and a pen. The simple, ordinary items brought him an odd sense of comfort. He opened the notebook and began writing:
1. Find shelter.
2. Form alliances.
3. Gather tools.
He stared at the words for a moment, then underlined them with a firm stroke.
Finally, he pulled out a suit of armor, neatly folded and surprisingly light. The material shone faintly in the soft sunlight, flexible but tough to the touch. Subra tried on the gloves first. They fit perfectly, hugging his hands without restricting movement. Piece by piece, he donned the armor, fastening it securely. It felt weightless, like wearing a second skin. "Not invincible," he said to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. "But good enough to keep me alive."
He stood and surveyed the field again. Every detail around him felt deliberate, as if part of a larger plan. More people appeared in bursts of light, their bodies solidifying as though they were being uploaded. The arrivals were less frequent now, and those who came looked more disoriented than the ones already there. The sheer number of people confirmed what Subra had suspected: this was just one of many such fields. The trial wasn't just big—it was global.
Subra's eyes returned to the maze. The entrances stood open and silent, like waiting predators. Whatever was inside wouldn't be easy. Hidden traps, unknown dangers—this trial wouldn't let anyone pass without a struggle.
He took a step toward a nearby tree, his movements calm and steady. Resting his hand on its rough bark, he found its solid presence oddly reassuring.
"Well," he said aloud, his voice firm, "let's see what I've got to work with."
Under the tree's shade, Subra turned his gaze toward the nearest maze entrance. His mind raced through possibilities, forming plans and then discarding them just as quickly. He wasn't the strongest here or the fastest, but he didn't need to be. He could think things through, and that gave him an edge.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Slowly, deliberately, he called up the ability selection interface. It hovered faintly at the edge of his vision, waiting for him. He scrolled through the options, his fingers hovering as his mind worked through the possibilities.
The field around him was alive with activity now. People moved with purpose, preparing for what lay ahead. But Subra stayed still, his focus sharp and unwavering.
And then, he made his choice.