Above, the crowd roared, cheers, laughter, jeers, it all blended together into meaningless noise. Aria didn’t hear them. She was way too focused.

From the darkened entrance ahead, something shifted. A deep, guttural growl rolled through the air, followed by the slow, wet drag of something massive pulling itself forward.

Wilst’s voice crackled in her earpiece.

"Aria, get behind cover. Fire when you find an opening."

She ignored him.

Her feet didn’t move. Not from hesitation, not from fear, but because something inside her told her to stay right where she was.

The Aberrant emerged from the shadows, a swollen, grotesque mass of wet flesh, its bulbous eyes rolling in different directions, its massive tongue lolling out behind it.

The crowd erupted into laughter.

"Are you kidding? That’s the test?!"

"That thing looks like it belongs in a sewer!"

Aria didn’t laugh.

She could feel it. A faint hum beneath her skin. A low, steady vibration running through her arms and legs.

Anticipation.

The Aberrant lunged. Aria moved. Her body reacted before her mind could think.

She sidestepped, the Aberrant’s tongue whipping past her face with a sharp crack that split the air. She twisted on her heel, weight shifting effortlessly, positioning herself perfectly to strike.

Wilst’s voice snapped in her ear.

"That was-" he cut himself off.

She wasn’t listening anyway.

Her hand flicked to her side, drawing the knife with practiced ease. It felt natural. Like she had done this before. Like her body remembered something her mind had forgotten.

The Aberrant turned, tongue snapping back, coiling for another strike. Aria didn’t hesitate.

She lunged forward, dodging under its second attack with almost inhuman precision, her body slipping through the narrow space between its tongue and its body like she had done it a thousand times before. Her knife flashed.

She drove it straight into its eye socket. For a second, nothing happened.

Then-

The Aberrant convulsed. Its entire body seized up, bloated flesh spasming violently. A strange energy crackled through its veins, faint, nearly invisible. A flicker of light.

Its grotesque form shuddered, limbs twitching, before it collapsed. The arena fell silent.

Then an explosion of cheers followed.

"NO WAY!"

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"

"SHE DROPPED IT IN ONE HIT!"

Aria stood over the Aberrant’s corpse, panting. Her knife was still buried in its skull, the handle slick with something warm and wet. Her hands were tingling.

She flexed her fingers. Something felt… off. She should have struggled more. It should have taken more than a single stab. Yet when her blade connected, something else rushed through her. A pulse. A spark.

But before she could think too much about it, Wilst’s voice cut through the static.

"Aria."

She blinked.

His voice sounded different. Not frustrated or annoyed. Just… uttelry confused.

"What did you just do?"

She frowned. What did I just do?

She opened her mouth to respond-

But at that moment, Sergeant Lyla’s voice rang out over the speakers.

"Combat test I completed. Proceeding to the next phase."

The moment was gone. Aria exhaled, gripping the handle of her knife, and yanked it free.The crowd was still roaring, still chanting her name. She barely noticed because deep in the back of her mind, something whispered.

You’ve done this before. And that thought terrified her.

Cove’s finger hovered over the sniper’s switch, his gaze fixed on the field below. What the hell just happened?

Even from his vantage point, he had seen it clearly. That knife shouldn't have been enough. He had been seconds away from pulling the trigger, waiting for an opening. But then, in an instant, the Aberrant collapsed. There was no struggle or prolonged fight. Just one strike and it was gone.

He glanced sideways.

Sergeant Lyla stood a few meters to his right, her expression mirroring his own. Shocked.

She was trying to hide it, keeping her stance professional, keeping her arms crossed but he could see through it.

She knows something’s off, too.

Cove let out a quiet breath, shifting position as the field was cleared. He would be needed soon. Unlike the first phase, the second test required interaction between participants. 

And that meant-

He would finally meet her.

The lounge was sterile. It felt almost clinical with white walls, muted lighting, a faint hum of filtered air circulating in the background. Aria sank into the edge of a metal chair, the coolness biting through her fatigued skin. Relief hit her in waves, heavy and disorienting, washing over the adrenaline that still thrummed beneath her ribs.

Her gaze dropped to her hand as her fingers curled slowly, almost involuntarily. The memory played back in sharp, fragmented images; the Aberrant’s grotesque form, the sudden lunge, the cold bite of the knife’s handle against her palm. And then that surge… The inexplicable current of energy she’d felt trace from her neck, down her arm, and coursing through the blade embedded in the creature’s skull.

It wasn’t just a stab. It was something else. Something she couldn’t name or rationalize.

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

Mr. Wilst stepped inside. His presence filled the room instantly. His eyes were sharp and unyielding, as if dissecting every detail before him.

He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he took the seat beside her, settling in with measured calm. The silence stretched between them. It was heavy with unspoken questions.

Finally, he broke it.

"Explain to me what happened out there."

Aria’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth then closed it again. Words faltered, tangled in something deeper than uncertainty.

Instead, he began again, voice lower and analytical.

"Perhaps you struck a weak point—something structural in the Aberrant’s cranium that triggered a neurotoxic cascade. It’s plausible. Aberrants’ physiology varies, but some have critical vulnerabilities near the ocular sockets."

He paused, weighing the hypothesis before shaking his head.

"But no. The Aberrants we deploy in this test are rigorously screened. None are sent in damaged or compromised. That much I guarantee."

His gaze locked onto her, searching for a reaction. Aria remained silent.

After another moment, he leaned forward slightly. "Then tell me, how did you move like that?"

Her voice was quiet, almost reluctant. "I just... acted on instinct."The confession hung in the air.

She glanced up and caught the edge of disapproval in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t buy it. Even she had trouble believing her own words. She hurriedly added, “And I apologize… for how I spoke to you earlier.”

A flicker of something softened the lines of his face. 

He nodded. "I know too well how adrenaline warps perspective. It’s... understandable."

The tension in the room eased, if only slightly.

The silence between them lingered a moment longer, then Mr. Wilst leaned back slightly, his tone settling.

"Dwelling on it won’t get us answers." He took a sip from the ever-present metal coffee flask in his hand. "You passed the first phase. Try to relax for five minutes without dissecting every molecule of what just happened."

She gave a slow nod, still trying to process the lingering current in her limbs. The memory wasn’t fading.

"But next time," he added, more pointedly, "listen when instructions are given. You won’t always get to ignore them without consequence."

"Understood," she murmured. "I’m sorry… again."

He gave a brief nod and stood.

"As I said, happens. Adrenaline rewires your brain. Just don’t make a habit out of it,” He stood, flexing the fingers of his gloved hand then checked the countdown on the wall. “Four minutes left. I’ll go prepare. We’ll reconvene shortly."

Then he left her with nothing but the hum of filtered air and the slow countdown.

The remaining time passed.

The exam had two phases. First, test her performance solo. Then, drop her into a squad simulation.

Simple on paper.

But Aria didn’t officially belong to any Division. She wasn’t a Scooter, a Close Combatant, or anything else. Her dossier was almost empty. One line stood out: “Perform based on what you’ve trained for.”

But what had she trained for?

She wasn’t even meant to be here. Her admission to the O.D.S. had slipped through a loophole no one wanted to talk about. She wasn’t a soldier, just a survivor that happened to stumble into their grounds. A patient. A statistical anomaly with unexplained Xenon readings.

And she still couldn’t remember what came before Theta-09.

The timer hit zero.
“Proceed to Field Sector Delta.”

She rose.

The arena had changed.

What had been a flat sparring ground now looked like a warzone. Partition walls jutted from the floor. Steel and polymer plates reconfigured the terrain into tight corridors and vertical ranges. Rubble and crumbling facades added to the chaos under the high artificial sky, now painted in the colors of dusk. Shadows stretched long and unnatural across the ground.

Four figures waited in formation, flanked by a woman Aria had never seen before. Short, sharp, rigid in posture. Her eyes moved like a hawk’s, scanning every corner.

The moment they landed on Aria, she spoke.

"Up front."

Aria jogged forward and stopped beside the sergeant, suddenly the center of attention.

Four strangers stood before her, sharp in formation.

And then…blue?

Electric blue eyes locked onto hers, freezing her in place. It wasn’t recognition, not exactly. More like… déjà vu. Familiar, but wrong. Comforting yet cold.

She remembered a voice. Faint and calm.

“You’ll be fine.”

Had he said that? Or was her mind playing tricks again?

She blinked. He didn’t say anything. Just frowned at her. And she had look away as heat crawled up her neck.

The sergeant’s VitalLink pinged green. She straightened and addressed the four of them.

"Phase two. Squad compatibility assessment. Aria’s performance here will measure not just her aptitude but how she functions in a team under live simulation."

The terrain moved again, partitions locking into place, lighting systems flickering to match 

"You’ll be inserted into a semi-hostile environment. Your mission is asset extraction and containment. Multiple objectives with unknown enemy count. Zero pre-briefing. You’ll adapt in the field like we trained you to."

She turned to Aria briefly.

"Understand this, potential new recruit; we’re not testing you to fail. But we are testing how you fail. Or succeed. Either outcome tells us what we need to know."

Then she returned to addressing the team.

"Your squadmates are as follows. S-11. Scooter. Adapter for fast entry, flank disruption, close recon."

The blond at the far left tilted his head, grinned and winked.

"S-24. Scooter. Zone mapping and field drone relay. Trust her readings."

S-024 didn’t look up. Her drone was already hovering nearby, feeding terrain data into his lens array.

"A-08. Analyzer. Command tier. He provides intel flow, threat modeling, and tactical projections. His orders are not optional."

Aria looked away, a bit embarassed...

Mr. Wilst didn’t acknowledge the introduction. He was busy syncing his data rig, eyes flicking across a holographic interface. He hadn’t lost the coffee cup, either. 

"E-107. Long-Distance Shooter. Suppression and support fire. Maintains overwatch and handles ranged eliminations. Secondary field commander."

Her head snapped toward him before she could stop herself.

The man with the electric blue eyes. Taller than the others. He seemed extremely focused and composed. And unreadable.

Aria kept her stare locked, her thoughts spiraling. She had more important things to think about, but she couldn’t focus. He had got her out of the pit. Why does she only remember the color of his eyes?

The sergeant continued, her voice firm. "This test is not about elimination, it’s about coordination. Your mission briefing will be given in real-time. You’ll have to adapt. Rely on each other. And Aria..."

The woman paused just long enough for Aria to raise her eyes.

"Don't forget you're the one being tested. That means your failures are yours alone."

The shifting of machinery finally ceased. The terrain stabilized, at least for now.

The sergeant turned slightly, signaling toward the weapon stalls aligned along the side of the field. Sleek platforms rose from the floor, each bearing a curated selection: modified blades, collapsible polearms, reinforced shock-batons, compact energy rifles, and gear unique to each Division's specialty.

She looked at Aria directly.

"Same as before. You choose your loadout. But if you're here to prove anything, try stepping outside your comfort zone."

Aria didn’t move yet.

"We saw what you did in Phase One," the sergeant continued, arms crossed. "Impressive reflexes. But that’s all it was. Reflex and instinct. A reaction under stress."

Her voice sharpened. "We still don’t know what you’re capable of. We don’t know your range, your control, your discipline. So choose wisely. And show us something new, something useful."

Aria’s gaze dropped slightly. The assessment hit harder than she expected, not because it was harsh, but because it was true. In the first phase, her body had moved before she could think. It wasn’t skill, more like survival. She hadn’t proven anything, really. Only that she still couldn’t control her impulses.

She gave a single nod.

Then turned and walked toward the stall, eyes scanning the weapons under the humming field lights.