The Novaros training grounds were vast—far beyond anything Oliver expected. Five domes stretched across the horizon, each humming with the kind of advanced tech that made the air feel alive. Transparent forcefields shimmered above as drones zipped back and forth, monitoring cadets and recording metrics.
"This place feels like a video game," Lira muttered, adjusting the visor on her temple. It scanned the environment with a soft chime. "All this tech... it's almost overkill."
"Not overkill," Juno said, cracking her knuckles. "It's delicious. Finally, we get to hit things that hit back."
Aria stood quietly beside Oliver, her dark hair tied into a braid today, reflecting the golden Novaros light. Her gaze scanned the incoming squads. "They're not just letting us train here. They're watching—evaluating."
"Exactly." Darius gave a half-smile. "Earth Regionals are a blood sport in a dress uniform."
Oliver didn't respond. The System's voice whispered in his thoughts.
"Be alert. Several cadets here exceed average combat parameters. One of them has potential nearing Level Four."
Level Four? His brow furrowed. He hadn't heard the System use power levels before.
"Current galactic standards place combatants from Level Zero to Level Ten. You are presently at Level One, though your potential rate exceeds statistical norms."
That wasn't comforting.
As squads were assigned simulation pods, Garek—who had been unusually quiet—stepped beside Oliver.
"You've been training alone lately," Garek said in a gravelly tone. His short-cropped brown hair was damp from an early spar, and his gray eyes narrowed slightly.
Oliver turned to him. "Yeah. Just needed some focus."
Garek didn't push. "Just don't outgrow your team before we finish this."
It was the most Garek had said to him in weeks. Oliver gave him a short nod.
Simulation Zone Theta – Urban Combat Trial
The squad stepped into a wide urban simulation—replicating a bombed-out city under alien siege. Holographic enemies flickered into form: synthetic beasts, humanoid pirates, even mechs.
"Rules are simple," an instructor's voice echoed. "Survive five waves. Points awarded for efficiency, teamwork, and damage output. Bonus for no injuries."
"Easy peasy," Juno grinned. "Let me punch something."
The trial began.
Garek took point with fluid brutality, using his reinforced gauntlets to smash through the first wave of drone soldiers. Lira stayed in the backline, launching energy traps that pulsed with blue light. Darius moved like a blade, his dual short spears creating a blur of spinning motion.
Aria and Oliver moved together.
She glanced at him as they advanced on the second wave. "You feel different lately."
"How so?"
"Like something's burning under the surface. I don't know what it is. But it's not just discipline."
Oliver didn't respond. A heavy drone unit lunged at them, claws sparking.
Aria raised a hand. A violet pulse erupted from her palm, throwing the drone back mid-air with invisible force. Her abilities were evolving too—subtly, but surely.
Wave Four – Collapse
A mech descended from the sky mid-trial, loaded with dual plasma cannons.
Juno dove behind rubble. "Okay, that's not a beginner sim!"
Oliver didn't wait. He dashed across the battlefield, leaping off debris. A timed energy blade crackled to life from his wrist module.
"Target stability compromised. Attack the right leg joint."
"Got it," he whispered, trusting the System.
He sliced through the joint with precision, causing the mech to tilt. Garek followed up with a thunderous punch, cracking its torso armor. Lira's EMP charge finished it.
The team moved like a machine.
For a moment, it felt too easy. Too clean.
Aftermath
The simulation ended. The urban battlefield faded to silver and blue.
"Squad 9: Highest efficiency rating for your tier. Bonus awarded. Prepare for tournament pre-selection interviews."
Everyone sighed in relief.
Except Oliver. He watched the instructor's console and noticed a man in white robes observing from behind the glass. His uniform didn't match the Empire's.
"Who's that?" Oliver asked, nodding subtly.
Aria narrowed her eyes. "He's not Earth Division. Maybe galactic envoy."
"Why would they be here now?"
"Because this year's tournament might not stay Earth-bound."
Back at the Dormitory
Garek sat alone in the lounge, re-wrapping his gauntlets.
"You came back strong," Oliver said, sitting across from him.
Garek looked up. "Didn't want to get left behind."
"You won't be," Oliver said, though they both knew it wasn't true.
He could feel the distance growing. He was changing—quietly, impossibly—and they weren't.
Aria passed through the lounge, stopping briefly by Oliver's shoulder. "You fought well today."
"You too."
She didn't say anything for a moment. Then: "Try not to burn out before the real games begin."
System Note [Private to Oliver]
"Combat data uploaded. Evolution path accessible after next power threshold. Remain hidden. Observers are scanning."
Oliver exhaled slowly.
He was being watched. But so was everyone else.
And soon... he wouldn't be able to hide anymore.