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BWOOOOOOOOM... BWOOOOOM
A deafening alarm ripped through the silence, jolting Abunar awake. His body flinched instinctively, every sore muscle protesting as if yanked from a pit of exhaustion. The abrupt shift from deep slumber to full alertness left his mind dazed, his vision overwhelmed by an explosion of shifting colors. Bright, pulsing lights bathed the room—blue, red, yellow—flashing in rapid succession.
He groaned, shielding his eyes.
> "All Freshborns are to report to the Auditorium Nexus. All Freshborns are to report to the Auditorium Nexus."
The mechanical voice boomed through unseen speakers, smooth yet commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
Around him, his roommates stirred, groaning and shuffling beneath their blankets. Beds creaked as bodies unwillingly rolled upright. The weight of yesterday's brutal training still clung to them like chains, dragging them into sluggish movements.
Abunar swung his legs over the edge of his top bunk, still yawning. As he prepared to drop down, he noticed something odd.
The guy below him—some round-faced Freshborn with a thick build—was still dead asleep, snoring peacefully despite the chaos.
"That's crazy," Abunar thought, blinking at the sight.
He jumped down then stretched his arm and nudged the guy's shoulder.
"Hey, wake up. They're calling us to the Auditorium Nexus."
The Freshborn groaned and turned away, his voice thick with drowsiness.
"Just one more hour... I promise... mmhh..."
Abunar stared blankly. One more hour? In this noise?
He shoved the guy harder. "Get up."
'Yawn'
The round-faced Freshborn grumbled, rubbing his puffy eyes. "Tch. Whatever. Not like I can fall asleep with all this noise anyway."
Meanwhile, the others were already up, stretching stiff limbs, rubbing their necks, and exchanging tired glances. Some were silent, too drained to speak, while others murmured groggy complaints.
Abunar took a quick look at his roommates. There were ten of them, though he'd only met a couple yesterday before their so-called "training" crushed any chance for introductions. The room itself—while not massive—wasn't as cold or lifeless as he had expected.
The bunks were arranged in two stacks of five, each with vibrant-colored sheets. The walls weren't dull metal but instead painted with shifting murals—moving images like flowing water, blooming fields, and flickering embers. Soft glows from embedded strips in the ceiling gave the space an oddly warm atmosphere, a stark contrast to the brutality of the training halls.
Despite all that, the exhaustion in the air was thick.
As the alarms continued to wail, the Freshborns staggered toward the door, pushing into the crowded corridor.
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Outside, the halls of Sector Zero were filled with a slow-moving stream of Freshborns, all heading in the same direction. It looked different now—brighter, more alive. The walls were covered in interactive murals, shifting between animated sceneries and abstract designs. Some looked like ancient tapestries, while others resembled futuristic landscapes.
"Didn't notice these yesterday," Abunar muttered, running a hand through his hair as he walked.
His round-faced roommate—who was finally awake but still sluggish—snorted. "Probably 'cause we were too busy dying."
That was true. Yesterday had been nothing short of hell. His muscles still burned from it, and from the looks of those around him, he wasn't alone.
Some Freshborns moved with purpose, heads high despite the exhaustion, ready to take whatever came next. Others, like his companion, trudged forward with slouched shoulders, their eyes heavy-lidded, clearly just wanting to return to bed.
As they neared the entrance to The Crucible, the noise of hundreds of shuffling feet filled the air.The Crucible was the beating heart of Halsper Institute—a vast arena that served both as a training ground and as a gathering space for all things essential to shaping freshborns into warriors.
As Abunar stepped into The Crucible, he felt the weight of its purpose without being overwhelmed by it. The walls soared high above him, a masterful blend of ancient stone and modern alloy, intricately carved with symbols of resilience and triumph. These carvings, softened by subtle, ambient lighting, told stories of past battles and whispered promises of future victories, inviting every trainee to find their own strength within the lore.
Above, the dome ceiling resembled a living sky—a slowly shifting tapestry of lights that mimicked distant stars and constellations. This ethereal glow was a constant reminder that even in the depths of an underground fortress, hope could shine through.
The space was divided into functional zones: one area housed the Auditorium Nexus, where the freshborns gathered for vital announcements, while adjacent sections were dedicated to physical training. High-tech battle simulators and holographic projections brought legendary clashes with the relentless Areaks to life, offering vivid, immersive experiences without drowning the trainees in constant combat.
In another area, rugged obstacle courses and endurance tracks snaked their way through a maze of training dummies and variable terrain, designed to test stamina and speed. Every corner of this arena was purposefully constructed to strip away weakness and forge bodies capable of surpassing human limitations.
Every inch of The Crucible was designed to push the limits of human endurance. Obstacle courses wound their way through rugged terrain, challenging each step and building strength with every run. The rhythmic thuds of determined footsteps and the occasional burst of encouraging shouts from experienced trainers filled the air, creating a pulsating rhythm that blended discipline with an almost palpable energy.
Yet, amid all the rigor, there was a quiet beauty to the space. The murals that adorned the walls shifted subtly, as if animated by the collective resolve of those who trained within. They spoke not only of battles fought but also of the unity and hope that every freshborn carried within them. In this way, The Crucible was more than a place of pain—it was a crucible of transformation, where harsh drills were tempered by moments of shared inspiration and fleeting tranquility.
For Abunar, entering The Crucible was like stepping into a realm where every detail—from the intricate carvings to the soft, cosmic glow overhead—served as a reminder of his mission. Here, every push-up, every sprint, was a small sacrifice on the altar of survival, a step toward the strength needed to defend their war-torn soil against the monstrous Areaks. In this expansive arena, the training was as much about forging character and unity as it was about physical prowess.
The Auditorium Nexus—a dedicated assembly hall where freshborns gathered to receive vital orders and share in their collective resolve. Here, rows upon rows of seats faced a raised stage, where instructors delivered announcements and recounted the history of their people. The hall's acoustics carried every word with clarity, reminding all who listened that every command was a step toward survival in a world under siege by relentless Areaks.
Abunar took a slow breath as he entered, his gaze sweeping over the massive hall. This was their first real gathering—every Freshborn in the facility standing together in one place.
Taking a deep breath, Abunar surveyed the hall with a mix of awe and resolve. This was not just a training ground—it was the crucible of his future, a place where his body and mind would be relentlessly honed to survive and fight. And as he joined the other freshborns, all of them united in purpose, he silently vowed to endure every challenge, knowing that one day, the strength forged in The Crucible would be the key to reclaiming
Rows upon rows of Freshborns were already filling the space.
"Man, this place is huge," his round-faced roommate muttered beside him.
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