The aircraft cut through the stratosphere with practiced ease, its reinforced hull gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. It was no ordinary plane—the angular design and matte-black coating betrayed its military origins. A test vessel, repurposed for this particular endeavor.
Its engines hummed with controlled power as the pilot steadied the craft, preparing for the descent zone.
Inside the cabin, seven adults stood with disciplined posture, each one garbed in tactical black combat uniforms that spoke of experience and authority. Their fingers moved across slick tablets with fluid precision, monitoring vitals that pulsed in neon green against dark screens. Heart rates, oxygen levels, geographical coordinates—all meticulously tracked.
They were the overseers. The evaluators.
Opposite them sat the students. Seventeen in total, ranging from seventeen to eighteen years old, each one dressed in form-fitting combat suits designed for mobility and protection. The material clung to their frames, lightweight yet durable, embedded with sensors that fed data directly to the instructors' devices.
This was their test. The culmination of their awakening.
'Four days,' Kyle thought, his brown eyes fixed forward with calculated calm. 'Survive for four days in a forest teeming with tier-one monsters. Accumulate points through combat and survival. Prove that the awakening wasn't wasted on us.'
The plane began its deceleration, the shift in momentum barely perceptible yet felt by all aboard. One of the instructors—a stern woman with graying hair pulled into a tight bun—stepped forward, her voice cutting through the cabin's ambient hum.
"Listen carefully," she began, her tone brooking no argument. "You will be deployed into the Verdant Expanse, a Class-C ecological zone. Tier-one monsters inhabit this forest in significant numbers. Your objective is simple: survive for four days."
Another instructor, a broad-shouldered man with a scar tracing his jawline, continued. "Points will be awarded based on monster kills, resource gathering, and strategic positioning. Combat effectiveness, adaptability, and survival instincts will all be measured. Those who fail to meet the minimum threshold will repeat evaluation."
A murmur rippled through the students, though none dared speak out of turn.
"Parachutes have been inspected and prepared," the woman added, gesturing toward the equipment racks. "Once deployed, you are on your own. Communication devices will only function for emergencies. Use them wisely—or not at all."
The students nodded in unison, their expressions ranging from determined to anxious. Kyle remained composed, his face a mask of neutrality. Dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, ordinary features betraying nothing of the thoughts churning beneath.
'This is it. No turning back now.'
One by one, they rose and began strapping on their parachutes. The rustle of fabric and the click of buckles filled the cabin. Around him, Kyle could hear fragments of conversation.
"Think we'll run into anything nasty right away?" a lanky boy with nervous energy asked his companion.
"Depends on where we land," a girl with sharp green eyes replied, checking her harness twice. "Tier-one monsters aren't supposed to be that dangerous if you stay alert."
"Supposed to be," another voice muttered darkly.
Kyle said nothing, methodically securing his own parachute. His fingers moved with practiced efficiency, muscle memory taking over. The instructors began opening the rear hatch, and cold wind rushed into the cabin, biting and insistent.
The first students approached the edge, hesitating only briefly before launching themselves into the void. Then another. And another.
Kyle stepped forward when his turn came, the wind whipping against his combat suit. Below, the forest stretched endlessly—a sea of green punctuated by towering canopies. He took one breath.
Then jumped.
-----
The descent was violent poetry. Wind slammed against his eighteen-year-old frame, threatening to spin him wildly, but Kyle kept his body steady. The roar of air filled his ears, drowning out everything else. His parachute deployed with a sharp tug, jerking him upward before the descent slowed to a controlled glide.
Below, the Verdant Expanse revealed itself in full majesty.
Ancient oaks and towering evergreens dominated the landscape, their branches intertwining to form a dense canopy that filtered sunlight into dappled patterns. Vines coiled around trunks thick as pillars, and moss carpeted the forest floor in emerald waves. The ecosystem thrived with life—birds called from hidden perches, and the rustle of unseen creatures echoed through the undergrowth.
This place had weathered countless seasons. Spring blossoms would have painted it in pastels, summer deepened its greens, autumn set it ablaze in amber and crimson, and winter draped it in crystalline silence. Now, in the heart of warmer months, it pulsed with vitality.
Kyle descended slowly, his eyes scanning the terrain below. His landing zone approached—a small clearing surrounded by dense foliage. His boots hit the earth with a soft thud, knees bending to absorb the impact. The parachute collapsed behind him, fabric settling like a fallen ghost.
Immediately, his senses sharpened.
His eyes swept the surroundings with methodical precision, cataloging every shadow, every movement. The forest was too quiet. Birds had stopped singing. The air felt heavy, charged with something unseen.
His left hand moved instinctively toward the blade sheathed at his side, fingers brushing the hilt. His right reached back, gripping the circular shield strapped across his shoulders. The metal was cool against his palm, reassuring.
'Something is here.'
His breath steadied. His mind cleared.
The trial had begun.