INT. TRANSPORT VEHICLE – NIGHT
Arven drifts in a state of forced sleep, the world blurring past him. Around him, faint whispers, muffled cries, and the hum of the engine create an eerie lullaby.
Arven's mind races. How many others have been taken? How many are still out there, unaware that their lives are already marked?
EXT. CITY STREETS – NIGHT
Cars, helicopters, and armored vehicles move silently. The city continues in chaos and panic. Others around the world are similarly seized—some fight back, some scream, some try to flee—but the operation is precise and merciless.
Not all are captured. Some escape, some vanish into the shadows, but the hunt is relentless.
INT. ARVEN'S HOUSE – NIGHT (FLASHBACK)
A faint knock echoes at the door.
Mother (startled): Arven? Who... who is it?
Before he can answer, the door bursts open. Armed men in black tactical gear storm inside, faces hidden behind masks.
Mother (screaming, grabbing Arven): No! Please! Take me instead! Don't—don't take my son!
Arven steps forward, calm amidst the chaos.
Arven: Mother... I'll be back.
He's lifted by the soldiers, struggling for a moment but unable to resist. His mother's tears rain down, her cries echoing in the room as the team drags him outside.
EXT. UNDERGROUND FACILITY – UNKNOWN TIME
Arven awakens. He lies on a metallic floor, the faint smell of machinery and ozone filling the air. He sits up, blinking, jaw dropping. The area is enormous, cavernous, like a hidden city underground. Bridges, corridors, and training arenas stretch as far as the eye can see.
In the center, a massive portal swirls—a direct gateway to a hellish battlefield.
Only 82 of the hundred had been captured. Teenagers, adults, even the elderly—no one was spared. Some still resisted. Some were already lost to the shadows.
A figure approaches—a young man, tall, confident, with an aura that makes Arven instinctively cautious.
Kael: Hey... what's your name?
Arven: Arven.
Kael: Kael Draven. But call me Kael.
He bows slightly in greeting, eyes scanning the room with experience. Martial artist, Arven notes silently. Strong, mysterious.
Arven (whispering): Did... did they capture you too?
Kael (nodding): Yes. And it seems we're all here for the same reason... though none of us know what that is yet.
They fall into a tense silence, watching the others wake—some groaning, some panicked, some glaring at the walls.
Suddenly, a voice resonates through the facility, calm but commanding, echoing off the cavern walls.
Gabriel (descending from above, wings faintly glowing): Welcome... chosen ones.
The room falls silent. Eyes widen, hearts race, whispers die in fear and awe.
Gabriel: Here begins your true awakening. Lessons, trials, and the path you will walk to stand against the darkness. You will learn, endure, and prepare.
Arven swallows hard. The portal, the size of the facility, the countless others... he realizes the weight of what has begun. Humanity's hope rests on their shoulders.
INT. UNDERGROUND FACILITY – MAIN HALL – NIGHT
The cavernous hall hums with strange energy. Dozens of the captured stir—some groan, some tremble, others sit in stunned silence. The sheer size of the chamber is overwhelming, its walls lined with glowing sigils that pulse like a heartbeat.
Gabriel hovers above them, golden eyes glowing faintly, his wings half-folded, his presence suffocating.
Gabriel: You have all been chosen. Some of you fought. Some of you hid. Yet none could escape.
Arven's fists clench. The word escape burns in his head.
Gabriel: Only one hundred may enter the true arena. The rest... will be tested, observed, or... removed.
The word lingers like a knife. Gasps erupt across the hall. One man shouts in rage, voice echoing against the cavern walls.
Chosen Man (furious): Removed? What is this—execution?!
Chosen Woman (weeping): I don't want to die... I never asked for this!
Another (defiant): Send me back! I won't play your sick game!
Gabriel's gaze sweeps the hall. The cries fall to silence under the weight of his presence.
Gabriel (firm): The choice was never yours.
EXT. CITY STREETS – SIMULTANEOUS
Above ground, panic spreads like wildfire. Families search frantically, calling names that will never be answered. Doors slam open as soldiers drag struggling bodies into black vehicles. Helicopters rumble overhead, their spotlights cutting through smoke-filled skies.
Narration: Across nations, the same scene unfolds. Silent, surgical abductions. The chosen vanish, and the world above pretends to continue.
Some fight—brave fathers swinging pipes, mothers clawing at masked soldiers. But the soldiers are relentless, their movements precise, as if guided by something more than human.
Narration: Some chosen escape. Some vanish into the shadows. But the hunt never stops.
INT. TRAINING CORRIDOR – NIGHT
Arven walks beside Kael, the metallic corridor humming with energy. His chest still burns faintly, the same fire that pulled him from his home. He presses a hand against it, jaw tight.
Kael's voice pulls him back. Calm, steady, almost surgical.
Kael: They won't tell us everything. But I've been here long enough to know... the first trials are survival. Then comes selection.
Arven: Selection?
Kael (nodding): Only the strongest, smartest, most adaptable survive. The rest are... discarded.
Arven stops in his tracks, staring at him.
Arven: Discarded... like trash?
Kael (flatly): Like broken tools.
Kael's eyes flick to Arven, studying him. Then a faint, humorless smirk curves his lips.
Kael: Don't look so shocked. You'll get used to it. If you live long enough.
Arven swallows hard. Fear gnaws at him, but deep inside, the fire flickers brighter. He grips his fists, forcing himself to move forward.
INT. TRIAL ROOM – NIGHT
The corridor opens into a circular chamber. The air inside is colder, heavier. The walls are lined with unfamiliar symbols, glowing faintly with shifting light. The floor hums, etched with geometric shapes that seem to rearrange themselves when stared at too long.
Arven steps forward cautiously. The door slams shut behind him, sealing with a metallic hiss. He spins, heart racing. Kael's voice calls through before it closes fully—low, sharp.
Kael (quietly): Remember—Gabriel doesn't play fair. Trust nothing but yourself.
The sound cuts off as the door seals completely. Silence presses in. Arven stands alone. His own breathing echoes unnaturally in the chamber.
The symbols on the floor flare brighter, shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls. They begin to move, bending like living things.
Narration: This was no test of strength. No training. This was judgment, waiting in the dark.
Arven's heart pounds. Sweat drips from his forehead. His hands tremble, yet deep inside, the voice whispers—
Arven (thinking, whispering): I will not break. I will not fail.
The shadows twist into forms. Something steps forward. The trial begins.
To be continued...