The Training Facility Theta was cold, dimly lit, and filled with an unsettling silence. Ethan stood with the other recruits in a long, narrow hallway. The concrete walls were bare, broken only by heavy steel doors lining either side. Each door had a single small window reinforced with wire mesh, and behind them lay something.
No one knew what yet.
At the far end of the hallway stood Seraphina Vale, her hands folded neatly behind her back. Her sharp gaze scanned each recruit as if she could see straight through them.
"Today's lesson," she said, her voice like ice slicing through the silence, "is about control. Control of your mind. Control of your fear."
Ethan shifted slightly, the tension pressing down on his chest like a weight. Elise stood beside him, her arms crossed, her jaw tight. Marcus, two spots down, looked unfazed, his usual arrogant smirk glued to his face.
Seraphina continued. "Out there, fear will kill you faster than any bullet. It'll freeze your muscles, cloud your mind, and make you hesitate when you can't afford to. Today, you will learn to face it."
She stepped aside, gesturing to the doors.
"Behind these doors are your fears. Each one tailored to you. You will enter, you will endure, and you will overcome. Or you will break."
The recruits glanced at each other uneasily.
Ethan's pulse pounded in his ears as Seraphina's cold eyes locked onto him. "Cross. You're first."
The steel door slammed shut behind Ethan with a heavy clang.
He stood in a dark, windowless room illuminated by a single flickering overhead light. The walls were metallic, and the air was thick with the faint smell of sweat and something rotten.
His breath came in shallow gasps as he took a step forward.
"Hello, Ethan."
The voice froze him in place. It wasn't Seraphina. It wasn't anyone from the academy.
It was his father.
Ethan turned slowly, and there, leaning against the far wall, was a man in a stained button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"You think you're something special now, huh?" the man said, stepping forward. "Running around in your little spy school, playing hero. But deep down, you're still the same useless, worthless boy."
Ethan's fists clenched at his sides. "You're not real."
The man laughed, a cruel, bitter sound. "Oh, I'm real, Ethan. More real than whatever fantasy you've built up in your head."
Ethan felt his chest tighten, old memories clawing their way to the surface. His father's voice, sharp and biting. The smell of cheap whiskey. The sting of bruises hidden under long sleeves.
No.
"You're not real," Ethan said again, louder this time. "You're just a trick. A stupid, cheap trick."
But his father's face twisted into something darker....something more menacing. The man stepped closer, and Ethan instinctively backed away.
"Face me, Ethan," the man snarled. "Or are you still that scared little boy who couldn't even"
"Shut up!" Ethan roared, his voice echoing off the metallic walls.
The room seemed to ripple, the air vibrating like the surface of a pond. The figure of his father flickered and then vanished, leaving Ethan standing alone, chest heaving, fists trembling.
The door behind him hissed open.
Back in the hallway, Ethan stumbled out of the room, his skin pale and his breathing uneven.
Seraphina stood there, arms crossed. Her sharp gaze scanned him from head to toe.
"You lasted longer than most," she said calmly.
Ethan didn't respond. His hands were still shaking, his mind still replaying his father's words.
Behind him, the steel door closed with a dull thud.
"Next!" Seraphina barked, her voice slicing through the tension.
Elise stepped forward. She glanced briefly at Ethan before walking into her own room. The door sealed behind her.
Ethan sat on the cold concrete floor, his back against the wall. The hallway was quieter now, filled only with distant murmurs and the occasional slam of a door.
One by one, the recruits emerged some pale, others visibly shaken, a few even crying.
Elise returned, her face blank, her eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been holding back tears. She sat beside Ethan, knees pulled to her chest.
"What did you see?" Ethan asked softly.
She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."
They sat in silence.
Marcus emerged last, a cocky smirk still plastered across his face. But his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists, and there was something hollow in his eyes.
Seraphina stepped in front of them again, her presence dominating the hallway.
"Fear isn't something you can eliminate," she said. "It will always be there, lurking in the corners of your mind. But what separates survivors from corpses is how you control it."
She scanned their faces, her sharp gaze lingering on Ethan.
"Dismissed."
The recruits began to file out, their footsteps heavy and their heads down.
That night, Ethan lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. The cold silence of the dormitory pressed against his chest like a weight.
His father's voice echoed in his mind. The twisted smirk. The cruel laughter.
But he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.
The academy was breaking him down, piece by piece, but Ethan knew one thing for certain:
He wouldn't let it break him completely.
Lex's words echoed in his mind:
"Once you're in… there's no turning back."
End of Chapter 9.