"I am Major General Bowlin.
You all know what's at stake, and in case you've forgotten, I would like to remind you: it is your life.
There will be three phases to this project, and in all of them, you need to do only one thing, survive.
Begin."
Slanted, the beds had all been turned in the same direction, and up above, the black glass had become transparent, clean as if it had disappeared, letting the men below stare at the grey-haired man above, authority in his tone and power in his eyes.
Cole had no idea who the man was, and he didn't care. He wasn't ready for this. He wanted it, yet to his confusion, he felt a shiver threatening to creep up his body.
"I welcome death for this one shot at salvation."
Cole whispered this not just to himself, but also to his body.
After the past years, Cole no longer feared death; he feared the absence of might, the inability to take a step forward, the lack of confidence…
"I don't doubt it."
Cole had just whispered and begun sinking into his thoughts when the words came from the man beside him, and he turned left.
The beds weren't packed together, but they weren't so far apart that the men couldn't talk to one another.
It was a surprise to Cole, though, that he had been overheard.
"It's a pleasure to meet the spear of the Empress."
The man who spoke was on the older side, either in his late thirties or early forties. They were all in their underwear, so Cole could see his lean but rippling physique. The man might have no mana, but Cole couldn't see any light of victory against him.
Before any further words could be shared, a string suction sound came from the bags hanging just above them, and they both leaned forward and closed their eyes.
There was nothing subtle about the entry of the green liquid into Cole's body. It came with a coldness, one that was impossible to miss, climbing up his arms and flowing to his heart, a chill spreading across his body.
When it reached his heart, Cole knew, and he found himself surprised as he was pulled into a world where the entire layout of his heart was being mapped out as the liquid moved.
From his heart to his lungs and then to every other organ, it was all mapped out before him, a soothing feeling spreading through him. Then it reached his head, and he was hit with pleasure.
A beautiful spectrum of colours appeared in his mind, happiness flooding his being. His lips cracked, and he burst out laughing, the joy felt natural.
It was a high at just the perfect level, and Cole had no idea how long he had been there, until suddenly he opened his eyes.
The sensations that had claimed Cole's body disappeared, and he took in the fact that he was still in the white hall. An oddity, though, was that Vera was standing in front of him.
Cole impassively watched as she hurriedly struggled to conceal the worry in her gaze, tightening her expression to compensate and rapidly blinking the emotions away, her fluster a bit comical.
"Is there a problem?" Cole asked when he felt she was comfortable.
"You are the last one to wake."
"Oh."
"Why the delay?"
"It was fun."
Vera didn't speak immediately, so Cole looked around, noticing the empty beds beside and ahead, showing he truly was the last.
"How do you feel?"
"Good."
Studying him carefully, Vera looked up at the dark glasses meaningfully, and the restraints on his arms and legs came off.
"Follow me."
Coming down from the bed, Cole felt the floor quite cold to the touch. As he followed, he satisfied his curiosity.
"How did the trial go?"
"Twenty-three never woke up. They got caught in the excitement, and their minds gave up. The rest are getting ready for the next trial—you will be joining them."
"Okay."
Cole could not see it, but Vera frowned at his casual response, still struggling to control her emotions when they overran her.
"If you feel any discomfort, we can stop and give you a thorough checkup before we continue," she managed to say, detachedly.
"No need. I'm good."
Vera gritted her teeth at the flippant reply, holding herself back from lashing at him and instead questioned,
"If over there was so much fun, why did you come back?"
"It was incomplete."
Managing to steel her nerves, Vera led Cole through a few corridors and then into another hall, this one just as big as the last, but narrow.
It had mirrors placed on both sides of its walls, along with several treadmills.
At the center, there was a row of mechanised seats, two seats placed back to back and facing a treadmill.
As Cole stepped into the room, just like the others who were already seated, a staff member in white walked over to him and placed a metallic band over his wrists and arms, then strapped a harness with blinking lights.
"Please take a seat, sir."
By the time Cole was in his seat, arms and legs secured, Vera was gone. As the door closed tight, Bowlin's voice came over the speakers again, though this time he did not appear.
"What you have to do is simple.
You will be administered several shots and after that, immediately get on the treadmill and begin running.
No matter what you do, do not stop. It is the only way to adapt, or you'll die."
The major's words were direct, and immediately the speakers went silent, needles from behind the seat burst into Cole's back, arms, and thighs.
It was like his entire seat had a bunch of needles sticking beneath the surface.
The process was fast, a few seconds for one to gasp as they realized the pain and then the needles were gone.
Unlike the previous, whatever was injected came with a warm sensation, and this warmth rapidly began intensifying.
Pushing off his seat as his restraints retracted, Cole immediately got on the mill and began running, the machine having no controls but adjusting to his speed.
The rest quickly did as instructed, and soon the sound of running echoed through the room.
The first seconds were calm. Then the sounds of movement increased, everyone's legs moving faster, and in less than a minute, people were at their maximum pushing.
The situation changed so suddenly, it was not a marathon, but a sprint. Looking forward at the mirror, his shaved white hair and dark eyes reflected back at him. Cole saw clearly when it all started.
On the other side, starting from the other end, the individual there let out a long, desperate roar, running with all his strength and exploding, and then the domino began.
Each person on the other side began blasting into chunks of meat and blood, not just their arms or head, their entire frame.
Through the mirrors, they all saw it, and when every treadmill on the opposite side was stained with red, to Cole's left, the domino continued.
He watched as with the same desperate roars, running as fast as they could, giving it their all, they exploded one by one, the sounds getting closer with each second, death rushing toward him.