As Xavier cleared his throat, his posture shifted. His spine straightened to its full height, and his brows drew together, sharpening his already stern expression. The casual stillness he held before was gone—replaced by something heavier, more commanding.
"Many of you recognize who I am," he began, his voice carrying easily across the hall, "but for those who have forgotten, my name is Xavier Zenix. I am the current Colonel of the Burchell Brigade—the leading military force in Pavee."
His gaze swept across the crowd, slow and deliberate, as if weighing each person individually.
"Some of you stand here by choice. Others… less so. Whether through selected draft or voluntary service, you are here to serve your hill."
A brief pause followed.
"I am here to welcome you into our ranks… and to inform you of what we are up against."
The air in the room seemed to tighten.
"They are called Arachtoids."
The name alone carried weight.
"We are currently at war with them. And we are losing."
Murmurs rippled faintly through the crowd, quickly dying under the pressure of his presence.
"Despite our differences, we have united with the other hills to fight this common enemy. Humanity stands at the brink—not of extinction, but of submission." His voice hardened. "With your help, we will change that. Humanity will reclaim its place as the apex predator of this world."
Another pause. Short. Final.
"That is all. You will be guided shortly to transport vehicles that will take you to a secured training location. There, you will be prepared for what lies ahead."
His expression didn't soften.
"May whatever god you believe in bless you on the frontlines."
With that, Xavier raised his hand in a crisp salute. The soldiers behind him mirrored the motion without hesitation. Then, just as abruptly as it began, the speech ended. Xavier turned and departed, his guards following closely behind.
Silence lingered in his wake.
Zuno stood still, unmoving, his mind struggling to settle. Around him, others shared the same quiet tension—some staring blankly ahead, others shifting uneasily where they stood.
Dread settled deepest in his chest.
A few minutes passed before a group of officials entered from the same direction Xavier had exited. Without much ceremony, they began guiding the crowd, splitting them into groups and directing them toward different exits.
Zuno found himself herded along with roughly fifty others.
Eventually, they stepped outside.
Waiting for them was a line of large vehicles.
Buses.
Zuno slowed as his eyes locked onto the one in front of him. It was massive—far larger than he had imagined. Its body was a deep, dull blue, reinforced with thick plating along the sides. The wheels were heavy, dark, and built for rough terrain. Even the windows looked different, tinted and likely reinforced.
This was the first time he had ever seen a vehicle up close.
It didn't feel real.
The line moved forward, and soon enough, Zuno climbed aboard. The interior was just as surprising—rows of seats lined neatly along the sides, all cushioned in worn but sturdy leather.
He made his way to the back and dropped into a seat.
It was… comfortable.
More than anything he had at home.
That alone was enough to ease some of the tension sitting in his body.
With nothing else to do, Zuno leaned back and shut his eyes, letting the low hum of the engine fill the silence.
Before long…
He fell asleep.
— — —
The sudden stop jolted him awake.
Zuno's body lurched forward, his forehead smacking into the back of the seat in front of him with a dull thud.
"—gh!"
Pain flared briefly as he pulled back, blinking rapidly to regain focus.
"We're here! Everyone off!"
The driver's voice cut through the bus, loud and impatient. A button clicked somewhere near the front, and the doors opened with a long, screeching hiss.
Zuno sat up fully, rubbing his forehead before standing. A yawn slipped from his mouth as he shuffled forward with the others, still slightly dazed from the abrupt wake-up.
Once outside, the environment hit him immediately.
Sand.
Everywhere.
The land stretched endlessly in all directions, dry and empty, with nothing but pale earth and distant heat distortions breaking the horizon. No buildings. No signs of civilization.
They were in the middle of nowhere.
Zuno exhaled quietly as his eyes adjusted, scanning the area.
A fenced perimeter surrounded the camp, thick metal barriers reinforced with barbed wire curling along the top. Watchtowers stood at each corner, armed guards stationed above, rifles in hand as they overlooked the grounds.
And standing at the gate—
Micheal.
Zuno recognized him immediately.
The same man from yesterday.
It made sense now. They weren't just delivering notices—they were assessing who they would be working with.
Micheal watched the group approach, his gaze sharp and observant, lingering briefly on each person. His attire had changed. Instead of a formal uniform, he now wore more practical clothing—black and tan camouflaged cargo pants paired with a dark brown short-sleeved shirt.
Even so, his presence hadn't softened.
"All of you already heard the colonel's speech," Micheal began as they gathered near the gate. His voice was calm but firm. "This location is one of several training camps. Its location is classified, so don't bother asking where you are."
A few people shifted uneasily.
"Today's your lucky day. You'll be settling into your barracks and getting a full night's rest." He paused slightly. "Tomorrow… we start."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"And when we do, we'll work you to hell."
The smirk vanished just as quickly.
"Follow me."
He turned without another word, expecting obedience.
Zuno followed along with the rest, keeping a steady pace. Falling behind didn't seem like a good idea.
As they entered the camp, he took in more of the surroundings. Everything was tightly secured—fencing, patrols, watchful eyes from above. It felt less like a camp and more like a controlled cage.
It took about ten minutes of walking before they reached the central area.
The barracks.
Simple structures lined the space—five to the left, five to the right. Each one looked identical, marked only by the names above their doors.
Micheal stopped in front of a white table, stacks of paper resting neatly on top.
"This is where you'll be staying for the next month," he said. "You'll be assigned into squads of five. You'll sleep together, train together, and survive together."
A brief pause.
"Questions?"
"How do we know who's in our squad?" someone asked.
Micheal's eyes snapped toward the voice. For a moment, his expression hardened—but then he exhaled quietly.
"I was getting to that."
He stepped aside, gesturing toward the table behind him.
"Those papers list your squads and barracks assignments. There are also uniforms laid out on your beds. Once you change, return here and dispose of your civilian clothes in the pit beside this table."
He tapped his foot lightly against the ground near a dark opening.
"And yes," he added, already anticipating the question, "they will be burned."
Zuno said nothing as he stepped forward with the others, his eyes scanning the lists until he found his name.
Squad Zeta.
Claire Wilfit
Zuno Kucax
Derrick Miltz
Sarah Nursh
His brows furrowed slightly.
Something felt off.
He looked around. Others seemed confused too.
After a moment, a short brunette woman spoke up.
"Sir… the barracks aren't separated. Isn't that a safety risk?"
Micheal's lips curved into a faint smirk—his first real expression since they arrived.
"No," he said plainly. "The battlefield doesn't separate you by gender. You won't be treated differently out there, so you won't be treated differently here."
His gaze sharpened.
"We are all the same here."
The smirk faded.
"But don't misunderstand. Any inappropriate behavior will be dealt with severely. There will be no 'incidents.' So no—there is no safety risk."
The tension eased… slightly.
Zuno glanced back at the paper one last time before shifting his focus toward the barracks.
Zeta.
He found it among the others, marked clearly above the door.
A quiet, uneasy sigh left him.
Then he walked toward it.
And pushed the door open.