A headset lowered over my ears. A calm, mechanical voice began counting my pulse, neural feedback, body temperature.
My heart was sprinting. My mind wasn't far behind.
Damian—apparently the guy with the rifle—stood nearby, silent, arms crossed. Jade lounged against the wall. Ryu perched on a crate like a bored cat. Commander Harlan watched everything without blinking.
"Ready?" Ryu asked, not looking at me.
No one answered.
I swallowed. My palms were slick, my chest tight, but my voice came out steady. "Yeah. Ready."
The Commander gave a small nod. "Begin."
And as the machine lit up around me—white, cold, endless—something deep in my gut whispered:
'This isn't just a test.' I told myself, right before everything went from mildly concerning to absolutely insane.
The machine around me whirred, lights flickering like it couldn't decide if I was alive or being microwaved. My pulse was pounding in my ears—loud, uneven. I could taste metal in my mouth, which I was 80% sure wasn't supposed to happen. A low hum crawled through my bones, sharp enough to make my teeth ache.
Then, silence.
A click.
And the sound of my brain rebooting.
I slumped forward, sweat dripping down my temples, and blinked like an idiot at the ceiling. My chest burned like I'd run ten marathons underwater.
"Not bad," Ryu said from somewhere above me, sounding way too casual for someone who'd just electrocuted me for science.
I tilted my head toward him. "That—was—that was a test?"
He grinned. "Technically, yeah. The fun part comes after this."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "I hate the word fun now."
"We'll run more evaluations," Harlan said, his voice the kind that made you sit straighter without meaning to. "Potential means nothing without discipline. We'll see how he handles group dynamics." He looked at Ryu. "Monitor him closely. Keep him from becoming a liability."
Translation: "Congrats, you're still alive. Don't get cocky."
Ryu gave a lazy salute, but his eyes lingered on me. For a second, I thought I saw something there—memory maybe, or pity. Then it vanished behind his usual smugness.
"Wear this," he said. "It's your mark. Means you belong here now."
"Uh, belong is a strong word, sir." I said, but I took it anyway.
The cloth felt heavier than it looked—like it carried a curse instead of stitching.
He didn't respond. Just nodded once and left.
Damian crossed his arms, a quiet scoff escaping him. Jade didn't even look my way—just sheathed her blades with a precise click and muttered, "He's going to die."
"Appreciate the optimism," I said.
They unstrapped me, and I nearly face-planted again trying to stand. My legs were jelly, and my head was spinning, but hey—I was alive. Probably.
Ryu watched him go, then leaned toward me, voice dropping low. "You've got something most people here don't."
"Raging anxiety?"
Ryu shook his head, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "Try again, it's something related with memory. That's rare here."
I frowned. "You mean remembering my mom?"
His expression flickered for a split second, something unreadable in those annoying blue eyes. "I mean remembering anything worth fighting for. Don't lose that, kid."
He walked away before I could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean.
–––––––––––
The next morning hit like a slap to my disoriented face.
They didn't give me a tour. No "welcome to Code Seven," no cafeteria stop, no orientation. I barely figured out which hallway led to my bunk.
I half expected them to hand me a map or a brochure titled So You've Been Kidnapped By a Secret Organization—Now What?
Instead, Damian showed up in front of my face like a sleep-in priced blonde haired ghost.
I had first hand experience at staring at his green eyes that looked like they had creepily watched me sleep for a while.
"What the hell?! How did you..."
I pushed back in shock at the close proximity and conveniently hit my head against the wall behind me.
"Fucking hell!"
He looked at me as though I was overreacting, as though what he did was the most normal thing to do.
'They are all crazy! Yes, all crazy and I'm the sane one.'
"What time is it?" I croaked, squinting at the clock.
"Five."
"In the morning?"
"Do you see a sun yet? Move."
I dragged myself out of bed, half-dressed, half-conscious. "This is cruel and unusual punishment."
Damian ignored me, tossing a towel and a uniform my way. "You'll thank me later."
"I'll sue you later," I grumbled, pulling the shirt over my head. The patch dug into my chest again—like it wanted to remind me I'd signed away my life last night.
The corridors buzzed faintly as I followed him. Every light hummed, every vent whispered. The air smelled like metal and ozone and stress.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"The gym."
"Cool. Are we talking regular gym or… whatever kind of hell you people train in?"
Damian smirked. "You'll see."
Spoiler: I did. And I immediately regretted every decision that had brought me here.
–––––––––––
The "gym" looked like someone had fused a military base with a futuristic death trap. Platforms rose and sank on hydraulics. The floor was covered in circular zones that pulsed faint light.
Above, heavy metal beams hung low, sparking faintly with contained energy. The smell of sweat, metal, and faintly charred air hit me like a wall.
Ryu stood in the center of it all, arms crossed, grin firmly in place. The kind of grin you wanted to punch. "Morning, rookie. Ready to meet your team?"
I stared at him. "You mean after you kidnapped me, mind-fried me, and stuck a patch on my chest, now I get introductions?"
"Exactly," he said cheerfully.
"This is insane."
"You'll get over it."
Jade was already there, stretching like this was some yoga retreat from hell. Her expression was flat as usual, blades glinting faintly under the lights. Damian walked up and stood beside her, rifle holstered, watching me like I was an experiment waiting to fail.
'Bruh! We were on the same page seconds ago.'
Ryu gestured lazily toward them. "Team, this is Ken Mercer. Rookie, ex–camera guy, full-time sarcasm machine. Try not to break him."
Jade gave me a single unimpressed glance. "No promises."
"Good to know we're off to a healthy start," I muttered.
"Introductions," Ryu continued, ignoring me. "This ray of sunshine here is Jade Cross—specializes in twin blades, stealth, invisibility and illusion fields. She disappears faster than your GPA during finals."
Jade sighed. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because I'm irresistible," he said. She didn't deny it—just rolled her eyes.
Ryu pointed next to her. "And this is Damian Raile. Sharpshooter, tactical genius, all-around control freak. Gravity manipulation's his specialty. He can literally crush you without blinking."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "I prefer to aim."
"Semantics," Ryu said, waving a hand.
"And you?" I asked warily. "What's your specialty? Besides being an ass."
He grinned. "Lightning. And being the strongest. Pretty good combo, right?"
Damian muttered under his breath, "He won't let that go."
Ryu pretended not to hear. "Anyway, we'll figure out what you can do later—assuming you survive today."
"Great," I said. "No pressure."
Jade's mouth curved slightly. "Oh, there's pressure. Lots of it."
She didn't sound like she was joking.
Ryu clapped his hands, and the entire room shifted. Walls moved, targets unfolded from the floor, and a faint hum filled the air again. "Alright, class," he said. "Welcome to Hell's Gym."
I had a double take on his naming choice.
"You named it that?"
"Tradition," Damian said dryly. "Every rookie earns their first scar here."
"Or dies trying," Jade added.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha..."
My voice trailed off the moment I stared at Jade and Damian's deadpanned faces.
"Ehhh?!!"
I turned to Ryu. "Wait... wait, they're kidding, right?"