In the face of extinction, purpose becomes our greatest weapon
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Our vehicle rolled to a stop in one of many parking spaces near the student training facility. Even before the car fully halted, I had swung the door open. I stepped out quickly, my eyes locked on the most impressive structure I had ever seen.
It was a massive spherical building made entirely of glass, towering into the sky like a monument from another world. Across its surface flowed stars, galaxies, and entire star systems—each moving in perfect harmony.
I had seen skyscrapers stretch into the clouds before, but never something like this. A sphere. A glass giant painted with the cosmos.
If someone saw this place at night, they could easily get lost in the moment.
"Amazing," I muttered.
"This is the Lone Star Training Facility," Pamela said, stepping beside me. "Equipped with the most sophisticated learning tools on the planet. It's proof of our commitment to raising the most exceptional Limitless this world will ever see."
Her voice held something I hadn't heard in a while—hope.
She sounded like a barren woman who had spent years praying for a child, finally catching a glimpse of what might be possible.
We made our way into the massive building. Even inside, I was stunned. The walls and ceilings flowed with stars and galaxies, just like the outside. It felt like walking through space itself.
We walked across the glowing entrance hall until we reached the reception counter. A young woman stood behind it, her white uniform neat and spotless. She smiled as we approached.
"Name?" she asked.
"Adam Black," I replied.
She typed quickly on a glowing screen, then pulled out a small black card and pressed it against a scanner. A soft beep echoed.
"Welcome to the Lone Star Facility," she said, handing me the card. "This is your membership ID. Don't lose it. You'll need it to access training zones, lockers, and all private areas."
I nodded and slid it into my pocket.
"Where are we heading first?" I turned to Pamela.
She smirked. "The armory."
Before I could ask what that meant, she turned and walked off. I followed.
_______ Lone Star Armory _____
The armory was nothing like I imagined. It was a large, high-ceilinged hall with white floors and silver walls. Racks of weapons lined both sides—blades, staffs, guns, and strange tools I couldn't name. Each item gave off a faint glow, like it was humming with energy.
On the far side of the room, lockers and equipment stations stood ready, all arranged in perfect order.
It looked like a place built for war. But it was clean. Cold. Silent. Like a museum of destruction.
"Is it safe to leave this many weapons unguarded?" I asked.
On our way here, I hadn't seen a single guard. Even getting into this room didn't require a pin or password—just the membership card.
"I see no problem." Pamela shook her head, not even sparing me a glance.
She darted toward the sword section like a child handed a lollipop, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"What?" I muttered, trailing behind her.
The last thing I wanted was to wake up at night to screams and chaos because some crazy student lost it and went wild with a weapon from here.
I wasn't sure if it was paranoia or some leftover trauma from a past life, but giving students unregulated access to weapons sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Pamela stopped, turned, and shot me an annoyed look before replying.
"You may not believe me, but after your first expedition, you and your class will become so close you'd never even think of hurting each other."
"What kind of bullshit is that?" I blurted, but Pamela just chuckled and said:
"Nothing brings out patriotism faster than a world-ending apocalypse."
Her laugh was bitter.
I noticed her eyes twitch—like something painful had crept into her thoughts. The air around her suddenly felt cold, weighed down by sorrow. I wanted to argue, but something told me not to.
"When that time comes," she added with a sigh, "you'll understand. Humanity needs every single Limitless it can get... if it wants to survive."
For some reason, I understood the look in her eyes. It was the look of someone who had lost something dear. This topic was clearly too heavy, so I changed the subject.
"What do we need these weapons for?" I asked, turning to a shelf lined with sleek swords.
I walked up to one—an elegant curved blade humming with energy. Aether flowed through its edge like a soft current. Just holding it made my hand buzz.
'This is genius.'
"On the battlefield, we can't always rely on our [Talents]," Pamela said from behind me.
She had climbed onto an empty crate, arms stretched like a stage performer.
"So, as compensation for your… sacrifice, I'll let you pick one weapon."
I rolled my eyes.
When I brought up compensation back in the classroom, this was exactly what I had in mind. I didn't have a flashy combat ability. I needed something to protect myself.
Without hesitation, I walked past the swords and straight to the ranged section. Bows, javelins, and other gear hung across the walls—but only one thing caught my eye.
A black disc weapon with a sharp edge. It hung beside a strange glove with glowing circuits and coiled wires.
"What is this?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.
Below it, a name label read: Rai'ki
"Oh, that?" Pamela said with a shrug. "It's a throwing disc that works like a boomerang. Always comes back to you if you wear the glove."
She stepped beside me, eyeing it with clear disinterest.
"It's not exactly popular—"
"I'll take it!" I cut her off, already imagining the possibilities.
Rai'ki was a circular disc with a sharp outer edge, lined with faintly glowing Aether circuits. It had a small hilt embedded in the center, and despite how deadly it looked, it felt light in my hand—yet solid, like it belonged there.
As we walked down the quiet corridor leading to the fighting arena, I could feel Pamela's eyes on me. I glanced over my shoulder and met her annoyed stare.
She was probably still salty I didn't choose a more traditional weapon.
"If humanity has these Aether weapons, why do we still need Limitless?" I finally asked the question that had been bugging me.
Wouldn't humanity do better if its army armed with these weapons?
"Because these weapons only recognize and respond to Limitless," Pamela replied, shaking her head with a tired smile. "Normal humans can't use them."
"How is that possible?" I asked, looking down at Rai'ki in my hand.
I tightened my grip around the hilt, and suddenly a warm pulse moved through my palm. The edges of the disc lit up with a soft, azure glow.
"It's true," Pamela said, now walking ahead of me. "We believe humans only awakened [Talents] in the first place because of exposure to Aether crystals."
"I see…" I mumbled, my pace slowing as the weight of her words sank in.
Pamela's footsteps grew distant, snapping me out of my thoughts. I picked up speed and followed after her.
A minute later, we passed through a towering doorway and stepped into the largest fighting arena I had ever seen.