INT. TRIAL ROOM – NIGHT
Arven steps forward, the door sealing behind him. The chamber is wide, circular, almost empty, lit only by pale symbols glowing on the floor. The air feels heavier with every breath.
A faint mist slides across the ground, curling toward the center. The silence presses against his chest.
Gabriel (echoing): The first trial begins. Show us the truth within you.
The symbols brighten, forming a glowing circle around Arven. Shadows stretch along the walls, shifting into faint outlines of people. A whisper drifts through the mist.
Voice (from shadows): Do you regret?
Arven's chest tightens. The mist swirls—and May's face flickers in the shadow. Smiling. Then fading.
Arven (shaking his head): This isn't real.
Voice: You failed to protect her.
The circle tightens, the glow sharpening to a painful white. Arven shuts his eyes, heartbeat hammering against his ribs.
Arven (gritting teeth): I know what I lost.
He forces his hands into fists.
But I will not break.
The mist retracts. The symbols dim to a steady blue. The chamber falls silent except for Arven's ragged breathing.
Gabriel (calm, resonant): Trial complete. Candidate Arven Solis—passed.
The door slides open. Kael stands outside, arms crossed, eyes sharp. He gives a slight nod.
Kael: You held your ground. Good.
Arven exhales, tension still heavy in his chest. He steps out, the echo of May's shadow still clinging to his mind.
Narration: The first step is over. But the path ahead will demand more.
NT. UNDERGROUND FACILITY – TRAINING CORRIDOR – NIGHT
Arven steps out of the trial chamber, chest still heaving from the weight of May's shadow. The door seals behind him with a metallic thud. Kael waits nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
Kael: You kept your focus. That matters more than strength.
Arven (still shaken): It felt... like they were inside my head.
Kael: That's how they break people. Truth cuts deeper than any blade.
Arven swallows. His fists clench tighter as if gripping onto his own resolve. Before he can answer, the corridor shakes. The lights flicker from sterile white to deep crimson. Sirens blare once, then cut to silence.
Arven (uneasy): What now?
Kael (grim): Now we see who survives.
At the end of the hall, steel panels grind apart, revealing a descending platform. Red light spills across the walls. Gabriel steps forward, his golden gaze sweeping across the candidates like a judge weighing souls.
Gabriel: Candidates, prepare. The second trial begins.
This test will measure endurance and instinct.
Follow the signal. Reach the beacon. Fall behind... and you will be removed.
The platform lowers with a groan, carrying the survivors into the depths. Arven steadies his breath, dread curling in his gut. The silence is thick—until the platform locks into place with a thunderous clang.
INT. UNDERGROUND ARENA – NIGHT
A cavernous chamber stretches endlessly. Bridges of steel and trembling panels cross above a bottomless void. Engines whir beneath the floor, metal grinding and shifting like a living beast.
Steam erupts from vents. The air smells of oil, smoke, and heat. A thin beam of light rises from the far side of the arena—the beacon.
Gabriel (echoing): Trial Two—Endurance.
Reach the beacon before the timer ends.
No rails. No rest. No second chances.
The ground shifts. Bridges rattle. Steel panels tilt into unstable walkways. Some rotate slowly, others slam up and down like jaws.
Kael (low, to Arven): Keep your weight low. The plates tilt if you stay too long.
Arven: And if we fall?
Kael (coldly): Don't.
A horn blares. The trial begins.
INT. UNDERGROUND ARENA – CONTINUOUS
Arven leaps onto the first panel. It sways under his shoes. Dozens of candidates scatter—some sprinting, others frozen in fear. The arena shifts constantly, tearing itself apart.
A scream shreds the air. A boy missteps. His panel tips violently, and he plunges into the void. His cry echoes, then cuts off. The silence after is worse.
Arven (thinking): Gone... just like that.
Kael (snapping): Don't look back. Move!
Arven pushes forward. Panels grind apart beneath him, gaps opening like hungry mouths. He leaps, fingers scraping the next platform as his chest slams against the metal. He forces himself up, lungs burning.
A girl freezes in panic nearby. The platform under her feet drops suddenly. Her scream fades into the black.
Arven (panting): Damn it... damn it!
Steam bursts upward, scalding and blinding. Arven coughs, nearly slipping as the panel tilts sharply. Kael grabs his wrist, steadying him for an instant before shoving him forward.
Kael: Don't hesitate! The arena kills hesitation first.
They keep running. Walkways twist into spirals. Metal arms swing from above, knocking a candidate into the abyss with a sickening clang. The beacon pulses brighter, mocking the survivors with its impossible distance.
System Voice (metallic): Time remaining—one minute.
The arena shifts violently. Whole sections fall away into the void. Arven leaps a collapsing bridge, barely catching the edge. His arms scream with pain as he pulls himself up.
Arven (gritting teeth): I can't... No. I won't break!
Kael lands beside him with ease, his breathing steady, eyes sharp.
Kael (short, commanding): Focus! The beacon's close.
Ahead, the final stretch forms—a narrow path of trembling steel. The beacon's light sears through the haze. Panels slam upward like jagged teeth, forcing split-second jumps.
Kael: Jump—now!
Arven launches himself across the final gap, landing hard beside the glowing beacon. Kael follows a heartbeat later, rolling to his feet. Both collapse, chests heaving.
Around the arena, scattered survivors stumble in, faces pale and trembling. Others never reach the end—the void claims them without mercy.
Gabriel (calm, echoing): Trial Two complete.
Those who remain... have proven the will to endure.
The beacon fades to a dull glow. Platforms retract, carrying the survivors upward toward a steel gate in the far wall. The arena grows silent once more.
Narration: Arven wipes sweat from his brow. His chest heaves, his legs tremble—but his eyes burn brighter. The second trial is over.
Yet the true purpose of these tests still waits in the shadows above.
INT. ANNOUNCEMENT HALL – NIGHT
The massive steel doors slide open with a heavy hiss. The surviving candidates step inside, footsteps echoing against polished metal walls. Bright white lights replace the crimson haze of the trials, but the air remains cold—too clean, too sterile. It smells of oil and disinfectant.
Arven enters first, sweat still clinging to his neck. Kael follows, shoulders tense. Behind them, Cassian moves with steady confidence, eyes scanning every corner like a soldier. Tanaka lingers at the rear, music humming faintly from his headset, face unreadable.
Rows of survivors scatter across the chamber. Only forty-five remain. Blood stains uniforms, faces are pale, eyes hollow. The silence is louder than any scream.
Narration: From countless candidates, only forty-five still breathe. The rest lie forgotten in the dark.
Cassian's sharp eyes sweep the crowd. Her voice cuts the air like a blade.
Cassian: Forty-five... That's it?
Tanaka glances at the screen above the stage—bright red numbers flicker: 45 SURVIVORS. He exhales, scoffing under his breath.
Tanaka (quietly): All that... for this.
Arven steps forward, fists trembling at his sides.
Arven: They sent us into death traps. For what? Entertainment?
The air grows heavy as Gabriel appears on the elevated platform, his boots striking steel with deliberate weight. The survivors turn toward him, anger and fear simmering.
Gabriel (calm, cold): Congratulations. You have endured what many could not. You are the chosen forty-five.
Kael's voice cuts sharp through the silence.
Kael: Chosen? You call this chosen? People died out there!
Gabriel meets his glare, unblinking.
Gabriel: Sacrifice is the foundation of strength. The weak fall. The strong endure. That is the law of survival.
Cassian steps forward, her tone icy, every word edged like steel.
Cassian: Survival? You slaughtered them for your law.
Tanaka lowers his headset slightly, eyes dark beneath the shadows.
Tanaka: What kind of future needs this?
Gabriel's lips curl into the faintest, unsettling smile.
Gabriel: The kind that wins wars. The kind that will save a dying world.
The hall trembles as the doors seal behind the forty-five. The sound is final—like a verdict.
Narration: Anger burns hotter than fear. But the trials are far from over.
INT. CANDIDATES' DORMITORY – NIGHT
The steel doors hiss open, revealing a corridor lined with reinforced glass. Beyond each panel, small private rooms glow with sterile white light. The air hums with hidden machinery. Cameras blink faintly in every corner.
Gabriel strides ahead without looking back.
Gabriel: These quarters are yours for the night. Rest. Eat. Heal. At dawn, you will receive your next directive.
He stops, scanning the survivors like tools on a shelf.
Gabriel: Remember—survival is not mercy. It is proof.
He turns and disappears through a sealed side door. The magnetic locks snap shut behind him. Silence follows, broken only by the hum of the walls.
Arven exhales sharply, shoulders tense.
Arven: He speaks like this is normal. Like death is just... a lesson.
Kael (flat): To him, it is. People like Gabriel don't see humans. They see weapons.
Cassian folds her arms, sharp eyes narrowing on the hidden cameras.
Cassian: Then we stay unpredictable. Never give him what he wants.
Tanaka adjusts his headset, a faint echo of music leaking into the silence. His eyes never stop moving, tracking everyone.
Tanaka: Easier said than done. If he owns the game... every move we make is already his calculation.
Arven looks toward the sealed entrance, voice low but burning.
Arven: Then we break the calculation.
Cassian's lips twitch into a faint smile—more challenge than comfort.
Cassian: I like the way you think.
A hesitant voice breaks the tension.
???: ...Excuse me.
They turn to see a thin young man a few steps away. His uniform hangs loosely, shoulders slouched as if the trials had crushed more than just his body. His dark hair falls into wide, uncertain eyes.
Julian: I... I'm Julian Reyes. My partner—she didn't make it.
He swallows hard, voice cracking.
Julian: We were crossing one of the final panels. She slipped when the bridge tilted. I tried to grab her, but... the plate dropped too fast. There wasn't even time to scream.
His hands shake as he grips the strap of his bag.
Julian (whispering): I didn't even see her fall. Just... the black. And then nothing.
The corridor falls into heavy silence. Some survivors avert their eyes. Others stiffen, unwilling to face the memory of how thin the line had been.
Arven steps closer, his voice steadier than he feels.
Arven: It wasn't your fault. No one could have saved everyone out there.
Julian shakes his head, tears welling.
Julian: Maybe. But it feels like I left her behind. Like I'm still falling.
Kael places a firm hand on his shoulder, grounding him.
Kael: You're alive because you moved. That's not weakness. That's survival.
Julian nods faintly, though his eyes stay fixed on the polished floor, haunted.
INT. ARVEN'S ROOM – NIGHT
A small metal cot. A single table. A glowing emblem of the Trials pulsing on the wall screen. No windows. No way out.
Arven sits on the edge of the cot, staring at the symbol. The hum of machines vibrates through the floor, steady and endless.
Then—suddenly—her face comes to him.
Narration: Grace. That day, she looked worried, as if haunted by something she couldn't say aloud.
Arven (thinking, whispering): What did you see, Grace? What dream did you have... that I didn't?
The question gnaws at him, carving deeper than hunger, deeper than fear.
Narration: Forty-five remain. The trials will not stop. And Arven knows—surviving is no longer enough.
To be continued...