“Wicked!” Zod blurted.

  The giant sword the Commander created from thin air made the teens’ jaws drop. The sword, measuring the length of each of their bodies, lay before their eyes like a gleaming monument. Eager to examine the remarkable weapon, Tee, accompanied by Zod and Kie, moved closer, drawn in by its captivating allure.

  "Wow, it's so shiny and beautiful," Miko exclaimed, her fingers delicately adjusting her hair as she caught a glimpse of her reflection on the polished base of the sword. The gleam of the metal reflected the overhead lights, casting tiny sparks of brilliance that danced across her features.

  Tee glanced upward at Kie, positioned directly in front of her but on the opposite side of the imposing weapon. His eyes were concealed by dark bangs that brushed against his forehead as he leaned forward, engrossed in its intricate details. Every ridge, every edge, every glint seemed to capture his complete attention, his lips slightly parted in fascination.

  “Can’t you lift it?” he asked the Commander.

  “Unfortunately I lack that strength,” he replied. “But by the end of your training, you’ll be able to lift and swing it with ease.”

  Those words made the cadets knit their brows in concentration. A deadly realization settled over them like a cold shadow. Their training had not begun. What exactly are we up against?

  Miko did not like those words at all. She imagined herself by the end of training—big, buff, and imposing. That was not at all the image she wanted for herself.

  “Observe,” the Commander said again. As he pressed his thumb against the dented section on the crossguard, the entire sword vanished into thin air, leaving gasps of disbelief hanging in the tense silence.

  Kie's disbelief grew as he contemplated the existence of such a device, especially given the Mid-Guard officials roaming around with cumbersome metal swords strapped to their backs. Shaking his head in disapproval, he couldn’t fathom why such archaic weaponry was still considered effective.

  Meanwhile, Tee remained captivated by the Commander’s empty hand, raised and open for everyone to witness. She couldn’t deny the sheer ingenuity behind the invention. After all, who would have expected a simple glove to possess the power to summon a colossal sword? Still, a nagging question lingered in her mind: why a sword? Why not a blaster or a rifle? The curiosity gnawed at her, urging her to seek answers beyond the surface.

  She remembered why they were recruited there—to eliminate a group called the Harbingers. And by eliminate, they truly meant kill. Her thoughts involuntarily returned to the man in full black with silver hair. Will she see him again? Will she have to kill him?

  She wondered if the other recruits had encountered the man in black before as well. He appeared only rarely, like a shadow slipping in and out of memory. Or perhaps his rare presence was proof she was a pawn in some far larger scheme. Those thoughts were unwanted, pressing on her mind like an invisible weight.

  “Now that you have an idea of what you’re aiming for, it’s time to warm up,” the Commander said, his voice authoritative but calm.

  He led them to a section with wide, soft carpet. They began with basic stretching. While others did the normal wrist and knee stretches, Miko drew attention in a far more captivating way. She rolled her shoulders back, spine arching gracefully like a bow, and then dropped into a fluid stretch. One leg extended forward, the other folded neatly beneath her, her chest pressing close to her knee with effortless elegance.

  The others paused mid-stretch to glance at her again when she shifted, rising seamlessly into a perfect split. Her palms pressed flat to the floor, her back straight, every movement smooth and controlled. Without breaking her rhythm, she leaned forward, hands gliding past her outstretched foot until her chin hovered just above the ground.

  A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when she caught them staring. “What? This is just warm-up,” she said casually, as though the impossible angle of her body were nothing unusual.

  At the punching bags, Tee found her element. She envisioned the faces of despicable MG guards, and her fury erupted in every punch. She swung her fists into the bag for five intense minutes before it burst, sand gushing out in a dramatic display. A beeping sound rang out, signaling damaged equipment.

  Zod mumbled, “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

  The others nodded in agreement, eyes wide at Tee’s force.

  The beeping stopped as the burst bag was retracted back into the metal wall, replaced instantly by a new one. It was genius.

  Shortly after, another beeping sounded—but that time, it wasn’t Tee. Kie had also burst his punching bag with the sheer force of his punches. Tee gasped. When he didn’t look her way, a horrible feeling gnawed at her chest.

  “I see what the problem is here,” the Commander said to Miko, barely able to make a punch. He mumbled something under his breath and reached for a pocket knife.

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  Suddenly, Miko’s voice erupted with unparalleled volume, resonating like a clarion within Tee’s ears.

  “What do you mean by cut off?” Miko asked, louder than Tee had ever heard. Her pink, watery eyes glimmered with shock, reflecting the intensity of her emotional state.

  "Just witnessing your incompetence confirms my belief that you won't make a dent in this punching bag unless I intervene," the Commander proclaimed, his words sharp and unwavering. “And like my mom always said, there’s no time like the present.”

  Finger by finger, he trimmed her perfectly glossy pink nails. Miko was left speechless, her hands falling to her sides like noodles. She stared at the punching bags as if she were a ghost, a muted mix of fear and awe immobilizing her. The Commander’s timing had made the situation far more surreal than any of them expected.

  He timed how long they spent at each section, as if following an invisible schedule. Even when Miko barely made a dent in her punching bag, he instructed them to move to the weight lifts.

  Kie lifted the bars like they weighed nothing at all, moving with precision and speed. Tee, impressed, matched his pace without hesitation. Zod followed closely behind, straining but determined. Saeda and Miko struggled visibly. Saeda returned her bar to the rack after a single attempt. Miko clutched the bar to her chest, straining to push it, a look of desperation in her eyes.

  The Commander intervened, helping Miko execute her first push on the weight lift. “There you go,” he said, his face more concerned than proud.

  Miko sat up, rubbing her arms. “I don’t want to turn bulky,” she confessed. “It’s so unattractive for a girl.”

  The others listened carefully, waiting for the Commander’s response. Saeda and Tee, in particular, were keen.

  “You won’t get that bulky,” he told her. “Your Ultramana powers should kick in, allowing you to do unimaginable things without relying on brute physical strength.”

  The Commander called them back to the wider area. “One hundred pushups,” he commanded.

  Tee and Kie were the first to drop to the floor, moving almost in silent competition. After that, the Commander ordered one hundred situps, then one hundred squats. Saeda, Zod, and Miko were grateful for Tee and Kie’s performance. The Commander moved the cadets along individually; as soon as one completed the exercise, he called them to the next, sparing the rest from extra strain.

  Watching them breathe hard and sweat heavily, the Commander shook his head. “Now, let’s get you cadets some fresh air,” he said.

  They obediently followed him, passing through grand double doors in a line, each step echoing across the polished floors. Like dutiful children, they trailed him toward an elevator.

  With a swift press of a button, the elevator began its ascent even before all of them had stepped inside, the destination still a secret. The doors parted smoothly, granting passage after a tense pause. One by one, they followed the Commander into a spacious chamber beyond.

  The room contained a handful of identical machines, spaced deliberately apart. A large oval ring sat beside a station filled with buttons and controls.

  The Commander led them toward one machine, deftly entering a code into a holographic screen. In response, the semicircular space at its center emitted a vibrant green glow, while a symphony of lights illuminated a pathway leading toward it. The air vibrated with anticipation and the unspoken promise of the unknown.

  Casting a glance over his shoulder, the Commander ensured they were all present before striding confidently along the illuminated path, vanishing through the pulsating expanse. Tee and the recruits exchanged looks before unanimously deciding to follow.

  Stepping through the ethereal portal, they were instantly transported to a place bathed in warm sunlight, nestled against a towering mountain. Yet it was clear they were nowhere near the peak.

  “I’m going to make this easy for you,” the Commander announced, one hand behind his back and the other reaching for his whistle. “For today only, you’ll be jogging from the middle of this mountain instead of the bottom. Your task is to run ten kilometers while remaining as fast as possible.”

  The five teens, still marveling at the teleportation, froze for a moment. The Commander blew his whistle, snapping them back to reality.

  “Start running," he said before disappearing into the green vortex.

  The others dashed ahead, leaving Tee slightly behind. She rolled the sleeves of her sweatpants above her knees—a habit from her Academy days, meant to annoy her Xenophobic home room teacher. The pants brushed against her legs, unlike the shorts she was accustomed to, making the motion slightly awkward.

  The sun was merciless, beating down on them. Tee realized they were still at Primus. In the distance, glimpses of towering spires and majestic structures from the compound could be seen, their heights truncated by a sprawling protective wall.

  The wall loomed at the edge of the grounds, dropping sharply into dizzying heights below. It was as if the entire compound had been constructed atop the rim of a dried-up waterfall, a sheer cliff stretching endlessly downward. Jet tunnels and windows of all shapes and sizes, usually hidden behind the cascading torrents of water, now appeared tiny and fragile from their distant vantage point. Beyond the enclosed Primus grounds, there was nothing—no buildings, no signs of life—just an expanse of emptiness stretching for miles, a silent testament to isolation and control.

  Tee split her attention between the path ahead and the scenery. She realized they weren’t on Geovalon—the only empty stretches there were uninhabitable since the second Apocalypse, Jorah-Reign.

  That explained the eerie absence of signals. Even within their complex, restrictive Wi-Fi protocols prevented tracking. In that new, isolated territory, Tee felt like a toddler in extreme safety mode, shielded from unknown dangers.

  Thoughts of Jack’s unopened box flooded her mind. A constant reminder of their severed communication, of the times he had burned her trust. She decided it was better not to open it.

  As she climbed, the view of Primus was eventually obscured by the winding mountain path. Stepping into the shade, she felt a brief respite from the scorching sun. Her legs adjusted to the terrain, and she began observing her immediate surroundings more closely.

  Curiosity drew her to the edge of the path. Fear of the seemingly bottomless drop was momentarily forgotten. Below, houses dotted the landscape, peculiar rooftops stretching in patterns Tee had never seen. Tiny, moving dots of people with vibrant hair colors caught her eye, proving they weren’t hallucinations. The buildings extended until they disappeared into a vast forest.

  Kie veered out of line, leading the pack. Tee refused to stay at the back. Quickening her pace, she propelled herself forward. Then, as if responding to her energy, Miko surged ahead like the wind.

  Everyone gasped at her speed.