Aarav's eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. His body ached—like every bone had been shattered and put back together the wrong way. Slowly, his senses returned.
A cold, metallic scent filled his nose. He felt something soft beneath him. A bed? No… a medical cot.
Where am I?
His vision was blurry, but he could make out a dimly lit room. The walls were smooth steel, humming with a faint energy. This wasn't a hospital in New Mumbai.
Something was wrong.
Then—he felt it.
A presence. Two of them.
Aarav's instincts kicked in. His fingers twitched, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.
"That's quite the reaction for someone who just woke up from nearly being torn apart."
The voice was smooth, confident. It belonged to a tall man, standing at the foot of his cot. His long black coat swayed as he stepped forward, hands resting in his pockets. His sharp golden eyes observed Aarav like a scientist watching an experiment.
Beside him stood a second man—shorter, bulkier, with a scar running down his left cheek. He was chewing on a toothpick, arms crossed. He looked bored, but there was a dangerous air about him.
Aarav tried to sit up, but his body refused to cooperate.
"Where…" his voice was hoarse, "Where am I?"
The golden-eyed man smirked.
"You're in the care of the Order."
Aarav's breath caught in his throat.
The Order. One of the Four Grand Associations of the world. A secretive, powerful organization that operated outside the laws of nations. Balancers, assassins, hunters—every terrifying force in the world either feared or respected them.
Why would they take interest in an F-rank nobody like him?
The golden-eyed man stepped closer.
"My name is Raghav," he said, "Captain of Division 404."
Aarav frowned. That name… he had heard it before. Raghav was a legend among Balancers. A man known for taking the worst of the worst and turning them into warriors.
And Division 404—
The weakest division of the Order.
"I don't get it," Aarav muttered. "Why would someone like you bring me here?"
Raghav smiled, but there was something unreadable behind his eyes.
"Because you're interesting."
Aarav clenched his fists.
"You're wrong. I'm nothing. I couldn't even take down a pack of goblins."
Raghav chuckled.
"And yet, you survived something that should have killed you."
Aarav's mind flashed back to that moment—the goblins, the voice in his head, the explosion of energy that wiped them all out.
That wasn't normal.
Raghav's eyes glowed faintly as he studied Aarav's expression.
"You felt it, didn't you? That surge of power. That balance."
Aarav's blood ran cold.
"How do you know about that?"
Raghav turned away, hands still in his pockets.
"We'll get to that. But first… I have a question."
He looked back over his shoulder, his golden eyes gleaming.
"Do you want to stay a weakling for the rest of your life?"
Aarav's heart pounded.
This was it.
The moment where his life could change forever.
The air around him felt heavier, as if fate itself was waiting for his answer.
"…What are you offering?" Aarav finally asked.
Raghav grinned.
"Join Division 404."
Silence filled the room.
Aarav's mind raced.
The Order wasn't a simple organization. Joining them meant stepping into a world of constant danger. Missions that could get him killed. Enemies beyond his imagination.
And Division 404… the weakest division. A group of rejects, outcasts, and nobodies.
Why should he join them?
Raghav watched him carefully, waiting.
Aarav took a deep breath.
"…What's the catch?"
The scarred man smirked. "Smart kid."
Raghav's expression remained unreadable.
"The catch?" he repeated. "You'll have to survive your initiation."
Aarav narrowed his eyes.
"What kind of initiation?"
Raghav's smirk widened.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Aarav clenched his fists. He had spent his whole life being weak. If this was a chance to change that…
He exhaled.
"…Fine. I'm in."
Raghav's smile turned sharp.
"Good."
He turned to the scarred man.
"Take him to the training grounds. His test starts now."
Aarav's stomach dropped.
Now?
The scarred man cracked his knuckles.
"Hope you're ready, kid."
Aarav barely had time to react before rough hands grabbed his collar, yanking him off the bed.
His trial had already begun.
---
Aarav stood in the middle of a massive training arena—an underground coliseum lined with holographic screens and reinforced walls.
Other figures stood in the shadows, watching. Members of Division 404.
Most of them looked unimpressed.
A booming voice echoed through the space.
"TRIAL START."
Aarav barely had time to react before the walls shifted.
Metal plates groaned as the arena transformed—the floor opening up, mechanical whirring filling the air.
Then—
The first enemy emerged.
A hound-like beast, its body covered in obsidian armor, black flames licking the edges of its fangs.
Aarav's breath hitched.
That wasn't a normal training dummy.
That was a Void Hound.
A C-rank killing machine.
A monster far beyond what he had ever fought before.
The beast growled, its glowing red eyes locking onto him.
Aarav took a step back.
No.
This wasn't a trial.
This was a death sentence.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...