In a blink, silver fluid shimmered from the back of his neck, flowing over his body with unnatural smoothness until he was fully armored. His MOD-issue gear gleamed like liquid mercury under the soft light.
I watched silently, eyes narrowing. His armor moved like liquid thought, silver flexing with each breath. That rewrote my understanding of what the MOD families really hoarded. It screamed tech centuries ahead of what any standard enforcer could get their hands on. Watching Zane wear one like second skin? Yeah, that cranked my curiosity into overdrive.
Before I could voice a suitably sarcastic observation, the rest of the squad fanned out behind him, their tension a palpable force in the sterile air.
Then a voice cut through the silence, clean and pitiless as a scalpel.
"Welcome to Tower Bootcamp. You are participants in Batch 3,872. Please select your pathway number to move forward."
Everyone went still.
"Bootcamp?" I muttered. "What is this, a tutorial level?"
"No," Cason said, his helmet retracting with a hiss. His brow furrowed. "Do not be deceived. It could be a trap. GAIA warned not to trust the Tower blindly."
For once, I agreed with him.
His words were followed by a beat of silence. The air felt heavier, charged. We waited—listening for traps, shifts in pressure, changes in lighting. Nothing.
I scanned the walls. No visible cameras, but I was willing to bet my system was being pinged harder than a public hotspot.
Ten seconds passed. No attack. No drones. Just eerie quiet and flickering lights from the tunnels.
Then, without warning, the glowing numerals above the tunnels flickered and dimmed.
"Let me go first," I said, not because I was feeling brave, but because I wanted control of the narrative. "I'll test the waters."
That earned me a skeptical glance from Nova. I ignored her.
"Noah," Cason spoke. "Try to be stealth."
"Relax, I'm not sending in the nukes. Just poking the beast."
I raised my hand, snapping my fingers. Hexagonal patterns spiraled in the air as I summoned five Recon Drones — matte black, disk-shaped, with glowing cyan eyes like digital hornets. They hovered above me, silent and hungry.
"Check each tunnel," I said, transmitting a command via thought.
I sent each of them toward a different tunnel—silent, low, their optical sensors sweeping the area. They zipped off like phantoms.
The voice returned immediately.
"Warning. Warning."
The mechanical voice returned, this time sharper, colder.
"Battle drone detected."
"Disengage immediately. Weaponry and external equipment are not to be activated inside the Rest Zone. Penalty will be imposed."
A high-pitched whine screeched through the air. Then —
Zzzrrkt!FWHMP!
A lance of red-hot energy slammed into each drone mid-air. Not exploded. Disintegrated. One frame-by-frame moment they were whole, and the next they were ash in the air, like they'd been erased from existence by a god with a delete key.
I blinked, then exhaled slowly through my nose. The air still stank of ionized metal. I tilted my head, voice flat. "Well, someone has control issues."
Gaius stared. "What the hell was that?"
"The penalty," I said flatly, shaking the faint sting from my wrist. My system had felt the forced de-sync. Like a slap.
Zane turned toward me. "It considers drones a threat."
"Well, it's got taste," I muttered. "That disintegration beam was overkill, though."
"What now?" Gaius asked, cracking his neck.
"We play the Tower's game," I said, eyes narrowing. "Five tunnels. One way forward. Four, I'm guessing, with consequences."
"Or all five with consequences," Cason added grimly.
"Same odds as dating in high school," I replied. "Only with less heartbreak and more instant disintegration."
My attempt to leaven the mood landed like a lead balloon. They all stared. I offered a dry, half-amused smile in return. They didn't need to get the joke. They just needed to remember I was the one making them.
Zane raised a hand, cutting off any debate. "We go in teams. Two at a time. No weapons drawn, no powers, no summoned drones. Not until we know the rules."
"What if the rules are there are no rules?" Nova said, her voice smooth and detached—like she was entertaining a theory, not asking a question.
Zane's armor flexed. "Then we adapt."
"Let's divide into teams based on our original squads from here on out," Cason said, his voice level but commanding.
"I couldn't agree more," Gaius added with a cocky grin, already stepping into place like it was second nature.
The split happened not with discussion, but with unspoken hierarchies. Zane simply moved toward Tunnel IV, a gravitational pull that drew one of his other squadmates into his orbit. Cason and Conrad fell into step toward Tunnel III, two halves of a single tactical mind.
Genesis glanced at Cason, a flicker of uncertainty, until her twin Gaius leaned in. His whisper was sharp, his easy grin nowhere to be seen. Whatever he said worked; she fell in beside him, and they moved toward Tunnel II. Nova, with one of her identically flawless squadmates, glided toward Tunnel V as if choosing a spa treatment.
That left Tunnel I.
And me.
Of course.
Mimi trailed behind, clearly assigned to partner with me. I shot a quick glance her way. She met my eyes with a small nod—no complaint, no comment.
I clenched my jaw. I'd been planning to move solo—get in, get out, and gather what I needed without deadweight or witnesses. But now wasn't the time to push back.
Not yet.
I'd have to adapt. Fast.
Find a way to ditch the plus-one once we were past the gate. I had a mission to finish. Secrets to uncover. And I couldn't do that with someone watching my every move.
Not when GAIA was already watching too.
The silence stretched as long as the shadows across the chamber. We stood on the circular platform, uncertain, surrounded by five tunnels marked with glowing Roman numerals: I through V. The clean geometry of the space was deceptively serene—too orderly to be safe.
Then, without a word, the assigned teams started to move.
First was Nova, stepping down gracefully from the platform. She didn't so much walk as glide, her poise making the rest of us look like fumbling amateurs. Zane followed her lead, nodding toward Gaius. "Pair up," he said curtly. "Two per path. We spread out, we cover ground."
Gaius rolled his neck with a grin. "Finally, something fun."
"Define fun," I muttered, releasing a low sigh. I hung back, observing.
As pairs stepped off the platform, the numbers above the tunnel entrances lit up one after another, flickering like old neon signs waking from slumber. Then came the voice again. Crisp. Emotionless. Too precise to be human.
"Please select your pathway. Eligibility will be determined based on affinity."
"What now?" Cason frowned beneath his visor.
Just as he spoke, holographic interface panels burst to life above each tunnel, floating midair. Rows of pulsing data streamed down in an elegant cascade of code and glyphs.
WELCOME PARTICIPANTS. TO ENTER, YOU MUST MEET THE REQUIRED QUOTA AND CONDITIONS FOR THIS PATHWAY.
SCANNING INITIATED. STAND BY.
A faint hum filled the chamber like the throat-clearing of some ancient machine. The floor beneath us vibrated with mechanical intent.