Jun watched from the back of the group, arms crossed, face calm. Around him, whispers floated like leaves in the wind.

"Look at him," one candidate muttered, nodding toward Jun. "No talent, no abilities. How’d he even qualify to be here?"

"Maybe he bribed someone," another scoffed. "He’s toast the second he steps in there."

Jun ignored them. He wasn’t here to impress anyone with bravado. He adjusted his worn gloves and kept his eyes on the battlefield.

“Jun Yoshida,” a voice called from the front.

The room fell silent. A few chuckles escaped from the back.

“Did they really call him up next?” a girl with fiery red hair muttered. “This’ll be quick.”

Jun stepped forward without a word, his boots clicking against the polished floor. The examiner, Commander Elena Kael, raised an eyebrow as she looked him over. Her sharp features were carved from stone, her piercing gaze assessing him as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.

“No powers?” she asked bluntly.

“No, ma’am,” Jun replied, his voice steady.

Commander Kael folded her arms. “You know what you’re stepping into, right? This isn’t some amateur sparring match. You’re going up against bots designed to kill.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

Jun met her eyes. “Because I don’t need powers to win.”

A faint murmur rippled through the crowd. Commander Kael’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but her tone remained cold. “We’ll see about that. Take your position.”

Jun entered the combat zone, the metallic scent of the arena filling his lungs. The doors slammed shut behind him, sealing him in. Across the field, three combat drones activated, their red eyes glowing as they scanned him.

A voice crackled over the intercom. It was Kael. “Your objective is simple: survive for three minutes. If you can, disable them. If not… well, let’s just say we’ll be scraping you off the floor.”

The timer began.

The first drone lunged forward, its heavy limbs pounding against the ground. Jun stayed perfectly still, his hands loose at his sides.

“Move, idiot!” someone shouted from the observation deck.

At the last second, Jun sidestepped, the drone’s arm crashing into the ground where he’d been standing. He spun on his heel, his movements smooth and controlled, and delivered a precise strike to the drone’s joint. Sparks flew, and the machine stumbled, momentarily disoriented.

“He’s fast,” someone murmured.

“Luck,” another shot back. “One slip, and he’s done.”

The second and third drones advanced together, their coordination seamless. Jun didn’t hesitate. He vaulted over the first, using its bulk as leverage to flip himself behind the second. A quick kick to its rear panel sent it off balance, its sensors scrambling to recalibrate.

Commander Kael leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Huh. He’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” The fiery-haired girl from earlier scoffed. “He’s barely holding on.”

Kael smirked. “Watch closer.”

In the arena, Jun grabbed a loose piece of debris—a shard of metal—and hurled it at the third drone. It struck its optical sensor, shattering it. With one bot blinded, Jun turned his attention back to the first two, weaving between their attacks like a shadow.

From the observation deck, the candidates watched in stunned silence. No powers. No enhancements. Just raw skill and timing.

By the time the buzzer sounded, all three drones were lying in pieces around Jun. He stood in the center of the wreckage, breathing heavily but otherwise unscathed.

The room erupted in chatter.

“How did he…?”

“That was insane!”

Kael pressed a button, deactivating the intercom. She stepped toward the edge of the platform, her voice cutting through the noise. “Yoshida!”

Jun looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. “Yes, ma’am?”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Welcome to the Sentinel Strike Force.”

The candidates fell silent again, stunned. Kael turned to leave, but not before tossing one last comment over her shoulder: “Don’t get cocky, though. Surviving the drones is the easy part.”

Jun allowed himself the faintest smile. The road ahead would be long, and he knew the odds were stacked against him. But he had passed the first test. For now, that was enough.

As Jun wiped the last of the sweat from his brow, he heard it—a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the ground. It started as a faint tremor, but it quickly grew louder, closer, like the approach of something colossal.

The ground shook with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. The candidates, still buzzing from his performance, froze. Then, the air filled with an ominous roar.

“What is that?” someone whispered.

Jun’s heart raced. He squinted toward the horizon, just in time to see massive, hulking figures emerging from the distance, their metallic forms gleaming under the sun.

The first Harbinger appeared, towering over the distant trees, its humanoid body like a dark titan of steel. Its limbs shifted, each one transforming into jagged, weaponized shapes: jagged blades, spiked hammers, and whirring gears, all pulsating with raw energy. As it moved, the air seemed to distort around it, the sheer weight of its presence bending the atmosphere.

Jun’s eyes widened. “No... it’s them.”

“Harbingers…” Kael’s voice came over the intercom, cool but filled with urgency. “Everyone, suit up! This is not a drill. Get to the armory NOW!”

The other candidates scrambled, but Jun stood still, his mind racing. They were here. The relentless, unstoppable force that had wiped out entire cities in the past. And now, they were on the edge of the Sentinel Strike Force’s very base.

Kael’s voice crackled again, louder this time. “This is an immediate code red. You’re all going to face this—no exceptions. We’re at war. Now, move!”

The massive figure of the Harbinger raised one enormous arm, transforming it into a huge, serrated blade. It swung down toward the city, and in that moment, Jun knew—the real test had begun.