Chương 10: A Blurry Figure

At long last, an announcement was made to the entire camp. The voice found Evel in the dark. He had been lying in a rest pod, eyes open and staring at the curved shell above him, when Arlo's voice had been injected into his mind. [You've all done well to pass the initial screening and get to this camp. A final challenge awaits you before you earn the privilege of serving The Imperium Tempor. Prepare yourselves accordingly, and be at the entrance at noon tomorrow.] The lid above him rose, allowing the steam-like substance to fizzle outwards. He pushed aside the lid and jumped up on his feet. The moment he had been training so desperately for had arrived. Familiar faces graced his presence as he left the room. He was used to seeing them now: people who, like him, had realized in their own way that a challenge like this was inevitable. The number of people at the Core stage was immense. Just about anybody had the potential to reach it! But the number of Weavers? Rare.

Evel had encountered only a handful in his lifetime. The military had tons of people they could recruit at any given time, but why was working as a soldier such a prestigious job? It was dangerous! They were at war to protect themselves from Ultor Dominion, a war that caused and continues to cause immense casualties. Most people wouldn't dare to join the army. Only two demographics, the ambitious and the desperate, would join willingly. Evel fell into the latter.

As the sunlight hit his face, Evel discovered a variety of fresh faces. People who hadn't been able to come to the same conclusion. People who had thought their lives were valuable. Why would the army risk its soldiers internally? They had gotten a good affinity, aren't they a talent the army needs? But Evel had learned early that his life carried little value to the country. In fact, Core recruits were simply not valuable. It was Arlo who had made him understand this.

Arlo could single-handedly wipe out all 136 recruits if he so desired, so what was their value? The only conclusion Evel could make was that each challenge was meant to refine the top talents further and use the weak as material to allow them to reach higher levels. That's what most people were. Steps to be taken by the talented and the worthy on their path to power. Evel wasn't satisfied being someone else's stepping stone. The camp had erupted in a flurry of activity.

People swarmed the weapon shops, realizing their struggles weren't over yet. Further, he watched as two young men traded blows with an intensity he hadn't seen before. Another confident man channelled his ability, shifting the earth as he sprinted against the opposing force. An older couple spoke in a hushed tone, bent over a hand-drawn map. Evel gripped his crossbow tightly, walking with a refreshed vigour out of the camp to where he had been practicing.

He saw similar sights as he made his way, which only worked to revitalize the sense of urgency he felt. Noon of the following day arrived quicker than anybody was ready for. Thick white clouds littered the sky, putting the world in a state of gloom – the greyness of the world contradicting the heightened emotions the recruits felt. The recruits congregated at the front entrance of the camp, standing in small groups among the friendships they'd been forced to make. Only a few stood in solitude near the edges.

Elena, Leo, Brenton, Fern and Juniper were standing in a group near the edges, speculating what the upcoming challenge may be, when Evel approached them.

"Hey guys." Elena whistled, "Looking good, Evel!" His frame was no longer a bare skeleton. His cheekbones no longer stuck out, and he fit into his clothes much better. He stood up straight, and his muscles showed the beginning signs of development. Evel thanked her, but broke into a chuckle when he noticed Brenton looking at him with a foul face. They fell into easy conversation as they shared their theories on what the challenge may be. RUMBLE!

The crowd in the midst of speculation was interrupted by the sound of the ground rumbling. A giant earth pillar shot up, reaching for the skies, until it stopped a few meters above them. Atop stood a bold figure stroking his goatee. His charcoal hair fluttered lightly in the wind as he scanned the recruits multiple times. After a few moments of observation, he spoke to their minds directly. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

[Good, all of you have arrived. You will soon be sent to a large area with all the items you carry. Once you're there, you'll know your objectives.] He raised his right palm into the air. A signal? After just a brief moment, small black items flew into the air from behind the pillar and slowly floated down into each recruit's hand. [That right here is a special compass. Point it to a specific person, then click the button at its base, and it will continue pointing to them for the duration of the challenge. You have 10 minutes to make your decision, then the final test begins.] A wave of murmurs spread across the crowd.

"Any ideas?" Evel asked. One idea would be to group in pairs and try to meet as fast as possible. Another possibility was to point it in a circle so they could all eventually congregate. Before Evel could propose these options, he watched as Elena pointed her compass at Brenton and pressed. Evel smiled. Had she even considered a strategy? She turned around to the rest of the group, not a single morsel of regret on her face, "Sorry, guys, but this is my bottom line. I'm not letting anything happen to him."

Brenton sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Fern giggled, and soon the rest of the group fell into a soft chuckle. Those who had spent the most time with Elena had expected something like this by now.

"In that case," Juniper proposed, "What if we all pointed it to Brenton and used him as a meeting spot? I really would like to meet with Fern as fast as possible, but I'm not sure the two of us alone would be strong enough to survive whatever they throw at us. If all of us were able to meet up, then I'm sure we'd manage." The red on Brenton's face intensified at the proposal.

"We... we don't need to do that. Who would I point to, for one?" Fern shrugged.

"Well, Elena's the strongest, so you can try meeting up with her as fast as possible."

"I have another idea," Evel interrupted.

"It's along the same line, but instead of Brenton, we all point to Elena instead. We all know she's the fastest of us here, and we've seen approximately how fast she can run. Based on the direction and speed of the needle, we can approximate the direction of Brenton. Then we can all run to the approximate meeting spot." The group took a moment to think about it before humming in agreement. They quickly set their compasses, all pointing to Elena.

As they were about to get back into speculation of what was to come, a deep discomfort washed over them. The group was around the edges of the crowd, but the direction of this discomfort came from even further out. They turned to see who it was, fully knowing the answer deep inside. Bremin. He walked up to the group, then stopped about a meter away.

"Hey Bremin!" Evel lightly waved at him. He had sparred and eaten with Bremin a few times this past week and had grown used to his aura when they were outdoors. Indoors, however, it was simply too concentrated, and Evel still felt uncomfortable and would need to make a very active effort. Bremin lowered his chin at him in acknowledgement of the greeting. The rest of the group shifted uncomfortably; unlike Evel, they had spent next to no time with him. Bremin lifted his compass and pointed it at Evel. CLICK.

He nodded at the group in acknowledgement again. Then, he walked away, the chilling aura leaving with him. … The group stood there in silence for a while. What just happened?

"Maybe he's shy?" Leo suggested. An image flashed across each of their minds: Bremin looking away with a bashful grin. The same Bremin with whose face was a terrain of jagged scars. The same terrifying man whose very presence probably sent children running to their parents. The mental image shattered. No, no, no, that can't be it. They shook their heads in consensus. Only a few minutes remained, so they discussed where the challenge would take place. Would they be sent to the forest near the camp?

Would they be put to sleep beforehand so as not to give them any hints of where they were? What would the objectives be? Brenton suggested it may be a mix of combat and strategy games, and Fern guessed it may be similar to the desert again. A suggestion that caused Leo to shrink. Elena patted him on the back.

"You'll be alright, buddy." Amidst their discussion, they didn't feel the air shift. A cool breeze swept through the entire city and its surrounding areas. Evel placed his hand on his tophat, preventing it from flying away. The cool wind sent shivers down his spine, and his instincts began screaming. But there was nothing around. He glanced at his friends to notice they all had deep frowns on their faces. In fact, every single recruit had suddenly stopped talking, shifting uncomfortably where they stood.

Evel opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could come out, he realized he couldn't speak. No, it was worse. He couldn't breathe; the air simply refused to circulate through his lungs. Just then, a violent jolt struck through his body, and a singular instruction reverberated throughout his body. SUBMIT. The word wasn't one that was heard. Instead, it was more of a feeling that each recruit felt in their bones at that moment.

When Arlo talked to them, they knew he was holding back most of his aura, but they could still respond. His aura was of a heavy cloak, one they could eventually learn to carry. This, however, was the weight of the stars. No recruit could form a cohesive thought; their minds were in complete disarray. Their knees hit the dirt in unison, mouths agape, but no scream could be released. The air in their lungs refused to interact with the being above.

The surrounding grass flattened, and the trees bent away from their location. It was pure silence, but a loud ringing propagated in each of the recruits' minds. This was an absolute, unstoppable force. As if marionettes, their heads were slowly controlled to look up. Had they had agency over their thoughts or been capable of logic, perhaps they would have had the mercy of losing consciousness. Instead, it was void. The presence eased lightly enough for some to regain consciousness.

Evel was among the first to regain a fragment of control over his mind. Futile. The singular word overtook his mind. Everything is futile. The 'top' was a fantastic notion. The Path was a vain dream. How could anybody hope to reach the 'top' when the sky itself crushed you back into the earth? The ringing crescendoed to overtake his mind. High above the clouds, a blurry silhouette hovered.

The sky was overcast, yet a perfect circle of clarity remained around this figure as if the clouds themselves were too afraid to block its presence. The figure above the clouds was the last thing his eyes found before the sky stopped making sense. The clouds bled into each other. The sound of the world simply ceased. The weight of the ground pushing back against his knees softened, then completely disappeared. Evel fell through the shifting space as even time itself began to warp. Until everything simply stopped.

The open skies and clouds transformed into a canopy of ancient, towering trees, a clear blue sky now the backdrop. The blurry figure was replaced by the sun's indifferent flare. Silence. The ringing had stopped. He was no longer beside his colleagues. He was no longer at the entrance of Orsus Camp. Soon, the silence was replaced by singing birds, chirping crickets, gusts swaying the treeline and a muffled roaring of a waterfall in the distance.

Evel was all alone now, his breath ragged and shallow, as he desperately tried to regain any composure he could, tightly clutching onto his gear for support. The silence of the woods was a lie; his mind was still screaming.