As the Void Hunter began its return journey, Vostroya and Symphony of the Sea launched their first new recruit selection after five stellar months of preparation.
Tizca Hive City, Factory A-008 in the Upper Hive.
As the White shift rang, the factory workers who had toiled through the entire Night shift quickly wrapped up their tasks, cleaned their workstations, and followed the yellow pedestrian line out.
One worker rolled up his sleeve, revealing a black tattoo on his arm, his wife's and children's birthdays inked there to remind him of what mattered most through exhausting labor.
He puffed out his chest and said proudly to a fellow worker:
"My boy Per is taking part in the Ascension Ceremony selection today."
"Once he passes, he'll serve the Monarch himself."
"Lucky you! My wife's just pregnant with our tenth kid."
The second man, with Low Gothic tattooed on his neck, slapped his forehead.
"Right! Last night, while talking to my wife about the Ascension selection, we were trying to decide which kid to enter."
Ever since King Nareth declared Vostroya's entry into the Imperium, he had issued new directives on birth and conscription policies.
Every family that bore eleven children was allowed to nominate one eligible child for the Ascension Path selection.
Those who passed would become great Legion warriors; those who failed would join the Auxilia and fulfill their service duty.
"Old Koschelny, how did your family pick?"
"Of course, we chose the best one. He has the best shot at success. No point sending someone who'll just come crawling back."
Koschelny, with the tattoo on his arm, said with pride:
"I tested the Koschelny boys myself."
"What kind of tests?"
"Lifting Vosvoth barrels, long-distance running, frog jumps, lasgun target practice…"
He listed fifteen different events, then added:
"Out of my kids, eight are eleven or younger."
"Each event was scored from 1st to 8th, ten points for first place, nine for second…"
"At the end, the kid with the highest total got the spot."
The tattooed man stared wide-eyed, clapped his hands, and drew attention from others around:
"That's brilliant. Didn't think you had it in you to be clever."
At the same time, in Paradigm City, Company Captain Thomas stood atop a high tower, overlooking the selection grounds.
He had selected the factory district as the site for recruitment testing for three reasons:
The Cult Mechanicum delegation was still en route, and the construction of a proper Legion monastery, expected to take over twenty years, had yet to be finalized with Nareth.
The childcare facilities Nareth had built in multiple city sectors were already ready for testing and resting.
Workers could freely drop off their kids during shifts, letting them focus on labor while reducing hesitation about childbirth.
Nareth had guaranteed food, water, and basic education for all enrolled children.
As an industrial world, the factory zone itself was the ideal thematic and functional setting for this event.
Finally, Nareth had cited Bukayo's proposed trial format and specifically instructed that the "item-finding test in the factory" be kept.
This simple test helped identify children with outstanding perception, which matched the 11th Legion's core qualities.
The trial would also assess the candidates' courage, intelligence, and adaptability.
As Thomas considered all this, the selection officers stationed at the childcare centers began addressing the candidates.
Pell Koschelny, eleven years old, already had a sharply defined face and carried himself with maturity far beyond his age.
He forced himself to stay calm, focusing hard to catch every word the giant drill sergeant said, knowing it would greatly improve his chances.
"Over the next four months, you will undergo a series of trials. To become a Legionnaire, you must pass every single one."
The officer of the 9th Regiment surveyed the 300 children before him, his voice low and heavy. He could tell most of them were nervous from his words, and only a few remained calm.
A black-haired squad leader mentally noted the calm ones, then continued:
"The first test will assess endurance and willpower. You will be scrutinized."
"Do not help other candidates. This is a personal trial."
"Sound the gong."
A legion servant struck the bronze gong with a hammer.
As many children stood frozen, Pell and a few others took the first step, walking toward the long, curved running track at the training field's edge.
The legion's servitors had rigged the track with obstacles: earthen slopes, deep pits, high walls, and flooded passageways.
While a few kids sprinted ahead, Pell held back slightly, keeping a steady pace.
He used the more anxious candidates like a herder using chem dogs, letting them scout the route.
Moments later, the leading boy, only about seven or eight, stepped into a camouflaged pit, twisted his ankle, and fell hard.
Pell's pupils contracted. He instantly marked that area in his mind:
Trap – Mud Pit.
The rest of the stunned kids now snapped out of it and began charging onto the track, legs pumping hard.
Thirteen minutes into the test, the first child completed a full lap.
His carefully prepared outfit, chosen by loving parents, was now caked in dirt and sludge. He gasped, looking up at the Legion servant.
"Keep running. Until you're told otherwise, do not stop."
The boy wiped sweat off his brow and pressed on.
Pell, too, now finished his first lap, carefully regulating his breathing.
'Endurance. Willpower. This isn't about a fixed distance; the instructor wants to push us to our limits. Can I fake it?'
He quickly dismissed that thought. There was no way he could deceive their eyes.
Meanwhile, on the Symphony of the Sea, their assessment had also begun.
The trial area had been set up along a coastal island, and the children were running across the sand.
Aboard the Void Hunter, the Chief Apothecary had completed inspections of all transformation chambers. He now entered a partitioned section of the med-deck, where 22 candidates sat quietly on metal stools, awaiting his arrival.
Following Nareth's command, Mikael had begun training future apothecaries.
He had selected 23 candidates to undergo enhancements, teaching them during the intervals between procedures.
Even as Chief Apothecary, Mikael had to admit that Marlena, a mere mortal "Doctor," had done an outstanding job.
Since her involvement, the number of deaths among candidates has dropped significantly.
Of the 22 seated before him, three had failed, but the survivors had not wasted their time.
They would now become apothecary aides.
Mikael stood before them and announced:
"Today you learn about the preomnor."
"You will soon undergo stomach implantation. Nineteen of you are scheduled."
.....
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