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Chapter 4: The Cadet Gauntlet
Adrian Sylvian wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped onto the sprawling training ground of the Federation's Cadet Academy. The morning sun glinted off the domed force shields encasing the arena, casting iridescent reflections across the synthetic terrain. Today was not just another mundane exercise. Today was the Cadet Gauntlet—a test of skill, wits, and raw gene potential that would pit every cadet against variables beyond their usual training. Adrian's gene serum had stabilized just enough to allow him modest enhancements: reflexes faster than a cheetah, agility that rivaled trained Strikerians, but nothing to indicate the power that his hidden Void X gene could manifest later.
Amy, his step-sister, approached from the side, her expression cold as always, though Adrian noticed the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Try not to embarrass yourself this time, little brother," she said, her tone sharp but not unkind. Adrian rolled his eyes. "You're only here to gloat, aren't you?" he muttered. Amy scoffed, raising a brow. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm here to make sure you don't die before lunch." She winked.
Despite the banter, Adrian knew she had his back. Always.
The gauntlet began with the first challenge: the Variable Field. Cadets were dropped into an arena that simulated different planetary environments, forcing their bodies and genes to adapt rapidly. Gravimorph wind tunnels tore through the air at 200 kilometers per hour, while invisible Mechanoids patrolled, their sensors tracking the cadets' every move.
Adrian took a deep breath. Time to test what little gene manipulation I've unlocked. He flexed his fingers, feeling the subtle hum of his enhanced musculature. A single step on the uneven terrain sent a shock of energy through his legs, a minor side effect of stabilizing his ant-inspired leg structure from his gene modifications.
A Blorvian cadet materialized from a smoke rift, grinning as he shaped his gelatinous form into a battering ram. Adrian leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the crushing impact. "Classic Blorvian," he muttered. "Always messy, never precise." He darted behind a fractured pillar, activating a minor kinetic field around his arms to brace for an incoming energy strike. The blast sizzled, sending sparks dancing across his protective shield.
Nearby, a Solarian cadet soared overhead, wings glinting like molten metal. The Strikerian twins launched a synchronized dive, fists charged with bio-enhanced strikes. Adrian's mind raced, calculating trajectories, momentum, and impact points. Every move was a mental chess game, with physical consequences in real time. He ducked, rolled, and released a counter-pulse from his forearms, disrupting the twin's synchronized strike enough to stagger them.
Amy, meanwhile, was a picture of efficiency. Her movements were precise, almost surgical. She dispatched a Red Sentinel cadet using a combination of gene-enhanced reflexes and subtle psychic pulses—an ability Adrian had yet to unlock. Watching her, Adrian felt a mixture of admiration and envy. He couldn't help but grin despite the chaos.
"Adrian!" shouted their instructor, a veteran Celestari known as Master Orvin, his eyes glinting like starlight. "Focus on adaptability! The gauntlet rewards intelligence and improvisation, not brute force!" Adrian nodded, already recalculating his strategy. The arena's terrain shifted again, this time forming a cratered moon-like landscape. Mechanoids whirred from the shadows, their metallic limbs slicing the air. Adrian's pulse quickened.
A sudden loud thunk caught his attention. A Gravimorph spike had lodged itself into the ground beside him. He smirked. "Predictable." Drawing on his gene-cycle enhancements, he pushed off the terrain with superhuman precision, flipping into the air and landing behind the Gravimorph. With a swift strike, he destabilized its core, causing the spike to retract.
The cadets weren't just fighting each other—they were fighting the environment. Alien tech simulations, variable gravities, and randomly generated threats forced them to think like generals, act like soldiers, and move like predators. Adrian felt every part of his gene-infused body responding. He was still a novice, but his potential teased the edges of something far greater.
Humor broke through the tension as a Mechanoid miscalculated a maneuver, slipping on a synthetic boulder. Adrian couldn't help but laugh, loud enough that a nearby Strikerian raised a brow. Amy shot him a glare, but the corner of her mouth betrayed amusement. "Control yourself," she whispered.
Hours passed. Adrian dodged, countered, and improvised. He learned to anticipate the behavior of each species: Blorvians favored chaotic frontal assaults, Solarians relied on speed and flight, Gravimorphs used brute force and terrain adaptation, Mechanoids calculated precision strikes, Red Sentinels exploited psychological pressure, Strikerians preferred power surges, and Celestari manipulated the battlefield itself. Every encounter taught him something—each a mini-puzzle demanding observation, creativity, and nerve.
By evening, the arena collapsed into a calmer environment. Adrian leaned against a fractured wall, panting, bloodied but exhilarated. Amy joined him silently, handing him a water capsule. He drank greedily, then smiled. "So, do I pass?"
Amy rolled her eyes. "You didn't embarrass yourself completely. That counts as a win today."
Master Orvin's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "Cadets, you have survived the first phase of the Gauntlet. Tomorrow begins the Gene Imprint Trials, where your understanding of biology, physics, and gene manipulation will be tested under extreme pressure. Remember: improvisation, adaptation, and strategy will outweigh raw power. Some of you will fail. Others… will rise."
Adrian's mind was already racing. He knew that the Void X gene, his secret advantage, had barely stirred. True evolution would come later, but every encounter, every minor victory, every mistake he made here laid the foundation for the sequence of power he would claim.
Amy smirked, nudging him. "Try not to die tomorrow, little brother." Adrian laughed, feeling the first spark of confidence that maybe, just maybe, he could survive this multiversal crucible.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of molten gold and deep violet. Stars began to flicker, distant points of alien civilizations he hadn't yet met. And somewhere in the shadows, the Federation's higher authorities observed, noting cadets who displayed potential far beyond their gene rank. Adrian had survived, but tomorrow would be harder. Much harder.
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