Brock also knew that even though playing the vegetable game will decrease surveillance on him it also placed him at the risk of finding himself on a dissection table.
After the researchers managed to calm down, the one with the penlight proceeded to shine the light into his again to see if there would be another response. Brock saw this as an opportunity to salvage the situation so he at the penlight with wide, innocent wonder. "light", he mumbled as he reached out trying to grab at the penlight. Seeing this the researchers let out a huge sigh of relief. "he's responding" the first one whispered. The second one took his digital clipboard and scribbled down furiously, the final reports of 088. It read: brainwashing successful. Subject displays low-level cognitive functioning, recommend immediate transition to basic combat training.
Brock stood at a corner of the training hall, his eyes wandering aimlessly around the thing in the hall. The traditional hall looked just like a boxing gym, the only difference being the size which was roughly the size of a football pitch. Brock, who stood at the corner, could be seen reciting the mantra trying to enter the mental space again. Previously, when he entered the space, he could not get a good look at the blue screen before being pulled out by the brainwashing.
[Host: Brock Velazquez]
[Age: 16]
[Race: Half-Human]
[Status: Awakened]
[Level: 1 (Sublevel 5)]
[Stats:]
Strength: 10(i)
Agility: 8(i)
Stamina: 9(i)
Endurance: 15(i)
[Talents:]
Combat Sense (i)
[Skills:]
Adrenaline Rush (i)
The "Level 1" made sense—it was a beginning—but the "Sublevel 0" left him scratching his head. What does the 5 even represent and why 5? he wondered. His eyes drifted to the Stats column. Seeing the 10 in Strength ,8 Agility and 9 in Stamina, he figured those were the "elite bodybuilder" numbers the researchers had been grumbling about. This made him think if such numbers were considered elite then what will a normal person be like. He shifted his gaze to the stat with the highest value endurance.
As he began to ponder why it was so, a sub-menu appeared below the endurance stat
[Endurance: A stat which is a combination of physical body defense and mental defenses.]
"Oh, so that's why", Brock said in realization. Although he had strong physical endurance, his mental defense which seemed to have been affected by his halfling status was higher.
His gaze moved to the next tabs the Talent and Skills tab, Intrigued, he shifted his focus to his Talent and Skill tabs. As he concentrated, drop-down menus unfurled below them.
[Talent: Combat Sense]
{High Battle Perception and Awareness: (Applies only when host is in battle)}
{Sixth Sense: (Host has a good sense of danger, can view the killing intent of others)}
{Weak Point Detector (Active): (Greyed out) (Unlocks at Level 5)}
{Duration: 5 min}
{Cooldown: 30 min}
[Skill: Adrenaline Rush (Active) (level 1)]
{Effect: Increases basic stats by 5%}
{Cost: 10 stamina per second}
{Duration: Until stamina hits zero}
{Cooldown: None}
Brock's internal "face" was a mask of pure, stunned disbelief. His heart did a frantic somersault in his chest. Is this the kind of secret they keep from the public? This wasn't just a "power" it was a blessing. However, the sight of the greyed-out "Weak Point Detector" hit him like a cold splash of water. A surge of childish frustration boiled up in his mind, breaking through his joy. Why? He protested internally, his mental voice practically screaming. Why can't you unlock now? Argh!
As Brock digested all the information in, he knew that he must escape, he formulated in his mind that he would lay low for the time being and absorb whatever teachings and skills they were going to throw at him.
With his resolve set, he prepared to leave his mental space, only to be hit by a sudden realization. He didn't know how. All time he had returned to his body, he had been violently forced out, first by the pulse-like wave that shattered the void, then by the searing agony of the brainwashing machine. He had never exited on his own accord. Panic began to rise. Within the black void, he started rolling around, his mental projection flailing as he wondered if he was trapped in his own head until some external force dragged him back to reality.
In the real world, Brock looked like a statue. He sat in a daze, eyes glazed and fixed on nothing. Standing directly in front of him was a man who had clearly been watching him for several minutes.
The instructor turned his head toward the researcher who apparently oversees Brock, his expression one of pure, unadulterated skepticism. "I thought you said he had the intelligence of an infant," he grumbled, "From where I'm standing, I'm seeing someone who doesn't have enough brains to even be called an idiot." The researcher began to sweat, his voice fumbling as he tried to explain. The instructor cut him off with a sharp gesture, snatching the tablet to look at Brock's diagnosis. When his gaze fixed on the "Null-Awakener" classification, a look of sudden understanding crossed his face.
Without a word, the instructor walked to the back of the training room and grabbed a heavy, reinforced bat. He returned to the motionless boy and without a second of hesitation, swung it with all his might toward Brock's head. One did not need to imagine what happened after.
Brocks body shook as a bucket of cold water was splashed on his entire being. His eyes snapped open wide, and he gasped, his consciousness slamming back into his physical body. He sat up trying to figure out what had just happened looking for an explanation for the throbbing ache he felt in his skull. As he did, he saw titan of a man standing over him. He had a hyper-defined physique, shoulders as broad as boulders and arms that looked as thick as Brocks' own torso. In his hand was loosely gripped bar while a small sharp smile hag on his face.
"How are?" the man asked leaning in closer, his massive frame swallowing Brock. "My name is Stone. Instructor Stone and I'm going to be your training instructor, and you'll do as I say. Understood?". Brock gave a series of thick frantic nods, mimicking the terror of a child. Although Brock had already begun to grow wary of him. Stones smile widened, "good, training stars today."
Beyond the reinforced walls of the facility, many incidents were happening. It was that time of the year again. Since the awakenings happened at the age of sixteen the military had adopted the practice of drafting all of them sixteen-year-olds whether awakened pr not. They were sent to various bases where they are made to undergo strict training for a period of two years. After which you choose your own path, whether to be enlisted, be a free ranger.
Their armored vehicles combed through all 20 sectors of the planet, stripping thousands of youths of their childhoods.
....
Whack!
The sound of a bat meeting skull rang out through the hall. This had been the interaction between Brock's skull and the bat in Stones hand, and it had gone on for a while. Stone had thought Brock the mantra that is recited to gain the ability to enter the mental space. Brock as part of the façade did not show any sign that he knew how to enter the mental space willingly, so instructor Stone took the previous incident as a fluke. Though the mantra he thought Brock was different from the one he heard the shelter guard recite. It was longer and more complex to recite. Stone had mentioned to brock that being able to enter the mental space is not all there is, one had to be able to exit and exiting was more difficult, because one had to sense their surrounding from the mental space. Most people spend years trying to achieve that step. Brock absorbed all that information in his head. He wondered, "if people spend years tying to achieve that what makes you think a null awakener like me will be able to do it." This had been brocks train of thought since the training began. All this while stone will hit his head with the bat anytime he entered his mental space and failed to exit. Yepp he was not teaching brock how to properly throw a kick or punch.
Brock's head was already a mess of bandages dyed red with his blood. Brock wanted to scream. He wanted to cry but had no tears. Why? He thought bitterly. "You're a combat instructor. Your job is to teach me how to fight, not how to perform mental gymnastics. If you want someone to bully just say so". To Brock, this was the researcher's job.
After another failed attempt Brock was finally dismissed, head full of blood-soaked bandages. Even though he could not exit the mental space willingly he did learn a lot. Exiting the mental space was just a prelude to being able to wield your awakener powers. To do that one had to be able to sense their surroundings then, in exiting bring out together the core of the powers which brock believed to be the system screen. That's when someone is said to be able to wield their powers. Brock was escorted to his new cell. It was not much different from the one he used to be in. a small table and a chair, a simple washroom and a bed. Brocks's mind wandered as he lay on his bed he knew to be able to successfully escape, he had to be able wield his awakener powers.