**Adam's POV**
The instructor led us to the ground floor of the academic complex. We soon found ourselves guided toward a flight of stairs descending downwards. "And of course there were underground floors," I mused silently. Until today, I had never seen any indication of access to subterranean levels; yet, deep inside I was convinced that a building like this must include them.
Still, the staircase surprised me—I hadn't seen any stairs since coming to this academy, especially considering that elevators were installed in the dorms, malls, and even the academic complex.
After descending several floors, we finally reached our destination: a vast hall dimly illuminated and crammed with an absurd amount of pods arranged meticulously. They filled the space like peas in a pod—quite literally. The sound of awed exclamations from countless cadets reverberated around me like the piercing screams of a banshee.
"Damn these pods are dope."
"I can't wait to try them."
"Hmmph, low lives."
"They're pretty advanced, perhaps even more so than the ones I use back home," Owen scrutinized. If he said so, then they must be exceptionally good.
"Alright, cadets, approach the pod with the same serial number as your rank," announced Instructor Cornwell.
"I'll see you in there," Owen smirked as he strode purposefully toward his pod. I too departed in search of mine; finding it was effortless since the pods were arranged sequentially, each number following naturally after the previous.
Once every cadet had located their assigned pod, the instructor resumed, "Cadets, listen carefully—I'll now explain the rules and objectives of the trial."
"The trial will last seven days, at least in simulated conditions. Out here it'll only be seven hours," she paused dramatically, as if waiting for her words to sink in. And sink in they did.
"You will be divided into groups—ninety-eight to be precise—with ten cadets in each group. Originally, there were supposed to be one hundred groups, but due to the unfortunate event that occurred two weeks ago, the number was reduced to ninety-eight. Even so, it still isn't perfect; three groups will have only nine cadets each." A solemn look overtook her features, and several cadets mirrored that same gravity. 'Most of them still haven't escaped the shadow of that event,' I mused inwardly. I was most likely among those still haunted by its repercussions.
"Every group will be assigned a flag, and your primary objective in this trial is to capture as many opposing flags as possible. Do note, however, that any group whose flag is stolen and absent from a member's possession for more than thirty seconds will be instantly eliminated," she continued firmly.
"Any questions?" she asked.
"Yes?" she prompted as a student raised her hand, not to be other than our ever-diligent Ashley Wellington. "What if a group gathers many flags but then loses their own in a confrontation with another group?" Ashley inquired.
"It doesn't matter," the instructor explained calmly. "The moment your own flag is not in the hands of any member of your group for over thirty seconds, you are all eliminated—losing any flags you may have acquired at that moment."
That rule added a significant level of difficulty to the trial. Still, it was not a matter of life and death, so as the saying goes, all is well that ends well.
"Any more questions? If none… Yes, Cadet Ashley?" A subtle flicker of annoyance passed over the instructor's eyes as Ashley raised her hand once again.
"How are the group placements decided?"
"They're determined randomly," the instructor replied. "Now, get into your pods—the trial will commence in exactly three minutes," she said while glancing at her smart bracelet.
Inside the pod, the environment was sleek and intimidatingly 'comfortable,' I thought as I reclined in its confines. With a subtle hiss, the doors sealed shut, and so did my consciousness.
"Cadet confirmed:
Adam Walker, First year Rank 178,
prepare to enter simulation."
A robotic voice intoned as I suddenly found myself immersed in a white expanse. Moments later, I felt myself dissolving and then reassembling in an entirely new location. When I finally opened my eyes, I was standing in an apocalyptic cityscape, surrounded by nine other cadets—one of whom I recognized immediately as Hori Tokito, the first year's Rank 8 from our special class; he offered me a nod of acknowledgment. The remaining cadets were undeniably from the elite and normal classes.
"How about we introduce ourselves and discuss our abilities so we can sync up well," Tokito suggested. I admired his charisma and mentally gave him a thumbs-up.
"I'm Hori Tokito, Academy Rank 8," he began. "My bloodline is of the transformation type, and I'm a one-starred Rank 2." His precise statement elicited looks of awe among the others as they absorbed his rank.
"I'm Adam Walker, Academy Rank 178," I replied vaguely, as I had during our previous outings. "I can manipulate gravity slightly, and I'm a one-starred Rank 3."
One by one, each cadet introduced themselves and detailed their diverse abilities.
The most notable among the rest was Lara—a three-starred Rank 3, capable of combusting her entire body into flames, essentially functioning like a living flamethrower.
The remaining members, though less ostentatious, still held useful abilities; one cadet could hover a few meters above the ground, a modest but noteworthy talent.
Soon after our introductions, a flag materialized in our midst. Its pole was no longer than a quarter of a meter in height, and its cloth shimmered in a rich gold hue.
"So who's going to hold on to the flag?" Tokito asked, posing what felt like the question of the century.
"Shouldn't you be the one to hold it?" one group member retorted. He had a point—Tokito was unquestionably the strongest among us, making him the natural choice to bear that responsibility.
"It won't work," Tokito objected, "because if I have to transform during battle, I will lose my grip on it."
"I also can't keep hold of it; otherwise, it'll just turn to dust," Lara quickly added with a shake of her head.
"I'll hold it," I stated firmly. So the responsibility fell on yours truly, and I'll make sure that no one would approach within two meters of around me.
Immediately after I assumed my responsibility, an announcement drew our attention. "Attention, cadets: I'm your proctor for this trial. I trust by now you have already met your fellow group members." A male voice boomed cheerfully. "Keep in mind that the setting is a particularly sprawling city, and all groups have been positioned along its edge. However, there is a catch."
"Catch?" I wondered silently.
"Yes, a boundary—the shimmering colored veil you see at least several tens of meters ahead," the proctor explained. I turned around to survey my surroundings and indeed observed a golden veil situated no less than fifteen meters from our current position.
"This boundary will steadily move closer to the center of the city each day," he continued. "Bear in mind that if any cadet comes into contact with the boundary, they will be immediately eliminated. Moreover, if your group's flag ever touches it, then your entire group will be eliminated. This measure is in place to prevent cadets from simply hiding until the end of the test."
It was evident that the constraints of the trial had become even tighter, and I mused over the increased difficulty.
"I hereby declare the start of the trial. If you fail to maintain possession of your flag for the next thirty seconds, your group will be eliminated. Good luck—you will need it." The moment the proctor finished speaking, I acted swiftly, clinging firmly to the flag.
"Let's move deeper into the city," Tokito advised. "At the very least, we must put some distance between us and the boundary." Lara and I nodded in agreement, and the rest followed suit. As we advanced, I maintained a firm grip on the flag, ever alert and ready to repel any intruders.
Forty minutes into our relentless march, we encountered another group on a broad street. "There are only nine of them," I observed silently, suspecting they might belong to one of the three groups that had only nine members. However, reality proved more brutal when we faced off—neither side initiating an attack—until suddenly, a figure suddenly emerged from my shadow. One of its hands lunged for the flag in my grasp while the other wielded a dagger poised to pierce my throat.
Positioned at the rear of our formation with the sun behind us casting our shadows far ahead, I had no time to think. My body reacted instinctively as I executed a move I had only theorized about but never practiced.
Just as the figure's hand neared the flag, a repulsive force surged from my chest, blasting the assailant backward. As the figure careened toward my group, Tokito reacted with lightning speed: his nails lengthened and sharpened, and he sliced decisively at the figure's neck. His attack met its mark perfectly.
"Damn, what a sneak attack," I thought. 'Well on the bright side, I've managed to figure out that my 'attack' and 'repulse' can work without my hands, perhaps even with my mind' I mused.
The brief moment of relative calm was shattered as the attacker's body disintegrated into sparkles and vanished.
"Attack them!" bellowed the self-appointed leader of the opposing group. I internally sighed at his typical amateurish and immature command.
But what unfolded next was a sight to behold. "You guys, do not interfere," Tokito ordered as he lunged forward. In an astonishing display, his body transformed into a massive, three-meter-tall black furred humanoid fox hybrid. Even more shocking, instead of a single tail, six extremely fluffy tails erupted from his rear.
"I'll be damned," I thought.
"Holy shit!" Lara cursed.
What followed was a brutal yet efficient slaughter. Tokito seemed entirely unfazed as he shrugged off every attack thrown his way, his agility and strength unmatched. Indeed, even his multiple tails launched assault after assault at the opposing cadets with immense speed and precision.
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