Chapter 11 Basic Training

  The alarm rang, and Kolt was on his feet almost instantly. Twenty-three other cadets did the same. The barracks were a blur of motion. Cots rattled as sheets were fitted tight around mattresses as hands worked fast.

  Kolt tucked the final corner in just as a gravelly voice hard as iron filled the room.

  “Atten-hut!”

  He hurried to the foot of his bed, his heels slamming together. Drill Sergeant Ramus walked down the aisle, his eyes cutting from face to face, from mattress to mattress, searching for mistakes.

  “Rise and shine, trainees,” Ramus said pleasantly. Almost too pleasantly. “You look tired. Let’s ease into the day. Five miles ought to wake you up.”

  “YES, DRILL SERGEANT!” the unit roared as one.

  By the time Kolt made it back to camp he collapsed into the grass, his lungs burned and his legs trembled beneath him.

  Ramus stood over them, not even winded. He was an absolute beast.

  Kolt’s stomach growled. Breakfast was still two hours away. He pushed the thought aside. Hunger was just another part of his body he needed to ignore.

  Propped on his elbows, Kolt scanned the field of bodies lying in the grass. One cadet stood out…literally. His hands were on his hips, as he stood upright. His breathing was heavy but otherwise he appeared unbothered.

  Ryder.

  He was a few years older. Almost six and a half feet tall, muscular, the type of body built for running. And for the past few months of basic training, he had finished first in every run.

  “All right, cadets. Break time is over. Move out.”

  The order cracked across the field; it was sharp and final. Ramus didn’t shout; he didn’t need to. His voice carried the kind of authority that assumed obedience.

  Kolt’s unit halted at the edge of a wide clearing scarred with scorch marks and shattered stone. Across from them, a line of drill instructors waited, they were older, and the looks on their faces were stern.

  Without ceremony, one of them stepped forward and released his Pokémon. Another instructor followed suit. There was no countdown. No warning.

  The attack came instantly.

  In a blur of motion. A Sceptile struck before the other Pokémon had fully materialized, slamming it into the ground with brutal efficiency. The battle was over in seconds. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but it was decisive and very effective.

  “Lesson one,” Ramus said, pacing in front of the cadets. “There is no honor in battle. That’s a fairy tale sold to children by the League.”

  Another demonstration followed. This time the instructors positioned themselves apart, backs turned, as if careless. The moment one cadet blinked, a shadow moved and Sceptile was sent flying across the field. Standing in its place was a Gengar.

  Ramus continued. “Fast and hard attacks end them. But sneak attacks... They make sure the other side never even gets a chance.”

  Kolt watched, as the instructors repeated the lesson again. This time focusing on ambushes from cover.

  Attacks that were launched mid-movement or strikes delivered before commands could even be spoken. Every engagement began the same way…fast, overwhelming, and merciless.

  “Your enemy doesn’t care about your pride,” Ramus said, stopping directly in front of Kolt’s unit. “They care about whether they’re still standing when it’s over. And you should care about only one thing.”

  A smile crept across his face. “Winning! Cadets release your Pokémon.”

  Poké Balls snapped open.

  “Everyone on the field is fair game!”

  Pokémon were released into chaos. Dust, smoke, and multiple overlapping commands were shouted over top of each other.

  Any cadet who waited for clarity or context lost. Any Pokémon that hesitated was struck before it could fully orient itself.

  Kolt had to adapt quickly.

  Mightyena launched the instant the light faded, his body was already coiled, his jaws snapped at empty air where an opponent had stood just a moment earlier.

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  “Mightyena evade!” Kolt yelled.

  While the field dissolved into shouting and overlapping commands, Kolt ran the perimeter, his boots skidding in loose dirt as he struggled to keep Mightyena in sight.

  Most of the cadets locked onto whatever appeared in front of them they were reacting to the carnage not acting upon it.

  Kolt watched the flow of the battles looking for an opening.

  Mightyena burst free from the densest fighting, scattering smaller Pokémon and forcing others to turn and re-engage.

  Smoke and dust swallowed the center of the field, leaving him momentarily alone on the far side.

  Clear for the moment and behind the instructors.

  Kolt slowed, his heart was hammering, his eyes flicked past Mightyena’s position.

  That’s when he saw it.

  One instructor was half-turned, distracted while he was talking. His Gengar hovered close by, but its posture was slack, its guard was down for the moment.

  “Everyone on the field is fair game.” That is what Ramus said, Kolt thought.

  No hesitation. No second guessing.

  Kolt fixed his stare on the Gengar and shouted, “Dark Pulse!”

  Mightyena planted his forelegs and unleashed the attack in a rippling wave of blackened energy.

  Gengar reacted at the last possible instant sliding sideways as the pulse tore past, the edge of it clipping its shoulder. The ghost hissed, its form rippling where the attack had grazed him.

  For a heartbeat, Kolt had thought he was victorious.

  Then the air folded inward as a massive Shadow Ball detonated point-blank into Mightyena’s side.

  Mightyena was hurled backward and smashed into the ground hard enough that the impact knocked the breath from Kolt’s lungs as surely as if it had struck him instead.

  “Hold!” Ramus yelled.

  The field froze.

  Ramus stepped forward, his eyes sweeping the scene. Mightyena lay still, medics already moving towards him, the instructor’s Gengar lazily drifted back into position as if nothing had happened.

  “You!” Ramus said finger pointing.

  Kolt stood rigid, his chest was tight, eyes locked on Ramus and he walked closer. The grin he’d felt moments earlier was gone.

  He had seen the opening…and he had taken it but lost yet again.

  Kolts gaze followed Ramus's finger to the instructor whose Gengar still hovered in place, its shadow settling back into its usual poise.

  “You let your guard drop because you assumed your rank bought you safety.”

  The instructor stiffened. “Drill Sergeant…”

  Ramus cut him off. “Assumptions get people killed.”

  He stepped closer, voice low but carrying. “That cadet saw an opening because you gave him one. Don’t do it again.”

  Ramus stared into the instructor’s eyes until the man become uncomfortable and looked away.

  “Yes sir!”

  Then Ramus turned and walked away.

  “Medics clear the field.”

  Kolt stood frozen, his heart was pounding, fingers tight around the empty Poké Ball.

  He hadn’t been reprimanded.

  For half a second, barely long enough to be sure, Ramus’s mouth twitched as he passed by.

  It wasn’t a smile.

  But it was something.

  Kolt swallowed, chest tight. “Sir… did I…?”

  Ramus’s eyes bore into him. “You want praise? Then next time win.”

  Kolt swallowed and looked back at Mightyena as the medics worked.

  Next time, he’d be faster.

  Next time, he will win.

  Training resumed as if nothing had happened.

  By the time morning drills were over Kolt’s arms and legs ached, and his throat was raw from yelling commands, and Mightyena’s muscles trembled from exhaustion.

  They made their way towards the mess hall.

  Aside from the clatter of silverware the mess hall was silent.

  Kolt had just started on his protein ration when a shadow fell across the table.

  “On your feet,” Ramus said.

  Kolt didn’t ask why. He stood, tray abandoned and followed.

  They crossed the compound without speaking. Ramus stopped in front of a secured door, keyed in a code, and stepped aside.

  “After you.”

  The office was sparse. A heavy wooden desk and two chairs sat in the center of the office.

  Astrid waited behind the desk, her posture was precise and as always, her expression was unreadable. A thick black folder sat in front of her.

  “Sit,” she said.

  Kolt did.

  She slid the folder across the desk. “You have asked to see your Alakazam. This is classified. You will not discuss its contents. You will not copy it. You will not reference it outside this room.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Inside were reports. Filled with emotionless data.

  Kolt flipped past the first page.

  DAY 1 – CONTROL ASSESSMENT

  Minimal control observed.

  Duration: 27 seconds.

  Loss of control initiated at extremities.

  Result: catastrophic psychic feedback.

  Damage sustained: reinforced viewing window compromised (2-inch laminate failure).

  Room rendered unusable.

  Subject was sedated before any further self-harm could occur.

  He turned the page.

  DAY 8 – SOLO CONTAINMENT DRILL

  Sustained control: 1 minute, 12 seconds.

  Subject maintained internal dampening through torso and upper limbs.

  Failure point: fingertips.

  Psychic discharge localized but severe.

  Structural damage limited to interior fixtures and building deformation.

  Energy output measured at peak of 8.7 megajoules

  Kolt continued flipping through the pages glancing at another.

  DAY 37 – ARMOR SYNCHRONIZATION TEST

  Armor Synchronization 24%.

  Subject exhibited increased output despite containment.

  Incident classified as partial breach.

  Training chamber integrity maintained.

  Collateral damage acceptable.

  Kolt flipped faster now.

  Multiple rooms described as “compromised.”

  Equipment logged as “total loss.”

  Progress charts were trending upward beside footnotes filled with cautions.

  One line stopped him.

  Emotional stimuli remain untested. Variable classified as extremely high risk.

  He looked up.

  Astrid met his gaze. “His control is improving. As is his power.”

  “Good.” He replied.

  “You asked to see him,” she continued. “That request is denied. For now.”

  Kolt didn’t react.

  “The subject’s output increases under stress,” Astrid said evenly. “A familiar presence may introduce instability. Until control thresholds are met, exposure is unsafe.”

  “For him?” Kolt said.

  “For everyone,” Astrid replied. “Including you.”

  She reached forward and closed the folder.

  “Soon,” she added. “But not yet.”

  Kolt stood when dismissed. He left the office without looking back.

  Outside, the drills continued. The base was a blur of activity.

  “Cadet Kolt! Double time” Ramus yelled from across the yard.

  With a heavy sigh Kolt made his way towards the drill sergeant.