The metallic platform clicked into place with an echoing finality, leaving the lone figure atop it .
This was the young Commander Riven, the youngest commander within the military ranks. Furthermore, he was a distinguished member of the Black Tiger Guild, one of the formidable Great 7 Guilds allied with the military.
Riven slowly stepped forward. A sharp gust of wind tousled his ragged brown hair, revealing a prominent scar slicing across his cheek .
His piercing brown eyes swept across the rows of teenagers assembled before him.
The field, alive with anxious hearts, fell into a deathly silence under his gaze.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, yet it struck like thunder.
"I am Commander Riven."
He offered a smile, but due to the deep scar on his cheek, it appeared as an unsettling evil grin.
This unnerved many of the students, making some visibly uncomfortable.
"Today is a monumental day," Riven continued, his voice resonating with a strange blend of prophecy and warning. "Today will mark the genesis of perhaps many legends, and yet, regrettably, it might also signify the tragic end of some."
Some students flinched, while others stiffened. His fearsome reputation, it seemed, had certainly preceded him.
"I was once precisely where you stand now," he elaborated, his gaze hard and unblinking. "A mere child, barely older than most of you, I was abruptly dragged into a war I didn't initiate and trained for a mission I couldn't possibly comprehend."
He began pacing slowly across the platform, his boots echoing like the metronome of impending doom. "They gave me a weapon. A uniform. Then, they dropped me into the deadliest quadrant in this world , without instructions, without backup. Just one stark order: survive."
His eyes met the crowd again, holding their gazes with intensity.
"I did."
A heavy silence followed before he added, his voice dropping to a somber, almost chilling tone,
"My team didn't."
A few looked away, unable to meet his gaze, while others lowered their heads, absorbing the weight of his statement. Riven's intention was to paint a realistic picture of the upcoming assessment for the young recruits.
However, the stark, almost brutal, manner in which he delivered his message filled the teenagers' minds with wild and unsettling imaginations.
"Survive?" That single word was scary on its own , it could mean death was near .... but was it?? Also It implied that by any means, no matter how extreme, were acceptable to achieve that one goal: survival.
The teenagers' minds raced. Would they be pitted against each other in groups within a confined space? Or would they simply be abandoned to fend for themselves? A torrent of unsettling thoughts popped into their minds as the young commander continued to speak.
"But through that ordeal, I learned. I adapted. And now, I stand here before you , not because I was the strongest, nor because I was merely lucky. Rather, it is because I vehemently refused to die when every fiber of my being, and every circumstance, told me I should have."
He stopped in the center of the stage, his presence towering over them, radiating an undeniable authority.
"You might mistakenly believe this is just another trial. Another checkpoint in your relentless climb toward glory, fame, or whatever other foolish dreams have been meticulously sold to you by soft instructors and bloated history books."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice turning cold and precise. "You are profoundly mistaken."
"This is not merely a simple test. This is not just another lesson. This is a warfare assessment, and it will be far from easy. Therefore, if any of you feel you are not up to the immense task, you still have the option to back down now.
Out there, beyond these walls, you will encounter monsters with claws longer than your arms. You will face environments that literally breathe poison. You will be thrust into scenarios meticulously designed to break you, both physically and mentally."
He gestured expansively towards the empty horizon.
"The world beyond our protective walls does not care about your family's standing. It will not patiently wait for you to get stronger. It will devour you alive the very moment you hesitate." His voice rose, sharp and unequivocally clear .
"And make no mistake, young lads, hesitation kills."
He paused again, allowing the silence to press into them like crushing iron weights.
"You've been diligently training for this day. However, let me be blunt , most of you are still fundamentally unprepared.
This assessment is not just about testing your raw strength; that is not the primary point. Instead, we want to witness what you become when you are stripped bare of comfort, and control."
A large screen materialized behind him, seemingly from nowhere perhaps a mutated ability of one of the soldiers behind him, or simply a sophisticated feature of the platform itself.
On it, flickering footage appeared: quick glimpses of past assessments. Students ran through burning forests, fought off monstrous beasts, and bled from various wounds.
"The assessment begins soon. Those who pass will move forward. The rest…" He left the sentence unfinished, the unspoken conclusion hanging heavy in the air, requiring no further elaboration.
He looked at them one final time. For a fleeting moment, a hint of sadness crossed his face; he felt a pang of regret for what they were about to endure. However, this emotion lasted only a fraction of a second.
He spoke again, his voice dropping lower, yet somehow becoming even sharper.
"You want to be Hunters? Then prove it."
And with that, he turned and walked off the platform, his boots crunching against the metal.
The holographic scenery behind him dissolved, and the platform slowly lowered back into the earth, disappearing from view.
Silence reigned.
Soon afterward, the bald-headed man moved forward and began speaking, giving them clear instructions.
As he did, the men previously standing behind him split up, except for the remaining four who stayed directly behind him. The others were off to prepare additional materials needed for the assessment.
"Right now, the watch on your wrist will shine in one of two different colors," he announced. "Those with green, proceed to the right. Those with red, follow me." He then began to move.
Simultaneously, the students' devices beeped and illuminated in either red or green.
He said , je didnt give additional time for tje speech to sink in , he didnt even add a saying of his , No he went straight to buisness. Thats the bualdan for you .
Immediately, the teenagers followed the instructions, all of them already familiar with the bald-headed man.
Fai's wristwatch glowed red, while Johnson's shone green, and they consequently moved in separate directions.
"See you later, buddy!" Johnson called out with a wink to Fai, then moved toward his designated area.
'What a strange guy,' Fai mused, remembering how tense Johnson had been moments ago, a stark contrast to his current demeanor.
Following the bald-headed man, the students were naturally curious about what criterion had placed them all under the same category.
Was it their background, perhaps their shared city of origin? They vaguely remembered some familiar faces. However, that thought was quickly dispelled when they also saw many faces they didn't recognize.
Soon, they came to a halt as the man in front of them stopped and turned around to face them.
"Due to the assessment's difficulty level and its underlying principles," he explained, his voice firm, "each and every one of you must be on an equal playing field, or rather, each of you must have the same fundamental advantages.That is precisely why you all have been gathered here: to be given an extraordinary opportunity to become mutated humans."
The bauld man said .