Ark opened his eyes only to see himself in a different location. This wasn't the lobby of the dome anymore. This was a recreation of Neo-Chicago. The sky was seriously bursting, a bruised violet and toxic green twilight, and the air smelled heavily of toxic waste. He wiped a streak of simulated smog from his jaw, looking at the massive urban sprawl stretching out below.
Ark: Isn't this too realistic?
A.U.R.A: Thank you for the compliment. Now, mission briefing: Twenty hostages are being held in the 100-story building. Every guard has been armed to the teeth and equipped with gas to kill all hostages the moment they sight trouble. Get in, neutralize the guards if you must, but rescue all twenty hostages. Any questions?
Ark: None I can think of.
A.U.R.A: Good. Now, pick a starting point.
Ark: I get to do that?
A.U.R.A: Yes. Anywhere outside the building.
Ark: Okay. The roof will do.
A.U.R.A: Can I ask why?
Ark: You'll see.
A.U.R.A: Okay. Now transporting. Good luck, candidate Ark.
Outside the simulation, in a room with no obvious light source, sat five figures around a desk watching Ark. The ambient glow of the massive, holographic monitors lit up the faces of the world's premier defenders. Synapse had his arms crossed, his gaze sharp on the screen. He had run the math on this scenario too many times.
Synapse: Now let's see what you're really made of.
Paragon: [Sighs] You're still on this?
Synapse: I've heard your stories, I've watched the tapes. I'd like to see things personally. This simulation is... simply a means to that.
Geos: [Leans forward, a smirk playing on his face] Shh. He's about to start.
Back in the simulation, Ark stood on the helipad of the hundred-story building. He pulled out the blade Lazuli, setting her down gently on the cold floorboards of the platform. He didn't need two blades for a clean vertical drop, for the close-quarters entry and tight corridors ahead, he needed just Habak'uk.
The wind up there was howling, threatening to tear his white hoodie right off his frame. He didn't look for an access hatch to slowly work his way down through 100 floors of random goons. He didn't have that kind of patience. Instead, he slowly walked up to the edge of the building, breathed in heavily, and jumped off.
Back in the observation room, the monitors flared to life with rapid descent metrics, numbers tumbling into the red.
Solaris: What the hell is he doing?
Paragon: Doing things differently, it seems.
Synapse: AURA, what are the realism settings?
A.U.R.A: Maximum, master Xavier.
Chronos: What does that mean?
Synapse: It means we're about to witness gore if things don't go as he is planning.
Ark was free-falling fast, falling at a pace that an un-enhanced shouldn't ever find himself in. The wind pressure blasted against his face, the concrete streets of Chicago rushing up to meet him like a solid wall.
Right as he crossed the threshold of the 89th floor, Ark reached out for a thick window-washing cable hanging against the glass. His fingers clamped around the steel line. Friction screamed against his flesh, smoking violently as he used it to instantly arrest his momentum, perfectly timing his pivot.
Synapse: What about the pain sensitivity?
A.U.R.A: Also at maximum.
Paragon: I take it that this means he should be in loads of pain.
Synapse: No. He should have a scorched hand.
But on the screen, Ark didn't even flinch. Having survived eleven years with Valerion, a little friction burn wasn't even enough to make him blink.
Hanging by one hand outside the 89th floor, Ark pulled Habak'uk from his scabbard with his left. The blade caught the dim, toxic light of the sky as he swiftly drew a circular motion on the window pane. He gently tapped the center of the glass, and it fell gracefully inward.
Step one was done.
He slipped through the opening, dropping silently onto the floorboards of the 89th floor. He made his way toward the interior stairs where two guards were standing by, their assault rifles raised. Knocking them out silently was easily achieved. A swift strike to the temple for the first, a clean sweep of the legs and a chokehold for the second before they could even radio the rest of the building.
He cleared the first group of 10 hostages with absolute, ninja-like stealth, moving down through the random spawn points like a shadow.
But the real tactical nightmare was the gap between the floors. The moment the 89th floor went dark, the alerts triggered downstairs. Ark didn't use the stairs to get to the 50th floor, that would take too long and let the remaining goons trigger the gas. Instead, he shattered the southern window and threw himself right back out into the open air, free-falling down the side of the skyscraper a second time, dropping like a stone toward the 50th floor node.
He hit the structure above the 50th floor, utilizing the environment to damp his impact, and slipped inside. The remaining guards were already panicking. One guard over the central pillar saw the shadow drop from the ceiling grate and slammed his thumb down on the electronic trigger.
Click.
A hiss of green, corrosive vapor erupted from the canister, instantly enveloping one hostage. The toxicity turned the lungs of the hostage to mush in seconds.
Ark didn't hesitate or show a flicker of emotion. He accepted that deficit within a millisecond. Pivoting on his heel, he threw Habak'uk with pinpoint precision across the room, the steel burying itself up to the guard's throat before the man could release a second wave of gas to the other nine.
The remaining three riflemen opened fire, the deafening roar of muzzle flashes illuminating the concrete room.
Ark moved like a phantom through the gunfire, utilizing zero powers, just raw agility. He dove under the line of fire, retrieved his blade from the throat of the dead guard, and delivered three swift, silent strikes in the dark corners of the room. A severed heel, a punctured chest plate, and a clean decapitation.
The roar of gunfire ceased.
A.U.R.A: Simulation concluded. Nineteen out of twenty targets successfully extracted. Total accuracy rating: 95%. Evaluation complete.
In the observation room, Synapse adjusted his glasses, staring at the split-floor routing data.
Synapse: He treated the entire 100-story vertical axis as a singular fluid plane. He didn't clear the building floor by floor, he bypassed the random spawn traps entirely by entering through the external envelope twice. He intentionally let the one target go on the 50th floor to guarantee the safety of the remaining nine when the trigger was compressed. It's clinical.
Paragon: yeah. Thanks for stating the obvious incase I was paying attention
Chronos: (chuckles)
The violent hiss of the decompression seals echoed through Sector 1 as the heavy simulation doors slid upward. The toxic, violet twilight of Neo-Chicago evaporated into the clean, sterile white light of the Aetheria Dome.
Ark stepped out onto the carbon-fiber landing pad, casually pulling the hood of his white sweatshirt back. He raised a hand to shake a stray glint of glass out of his hand-braided hair, his face completely flat.
Waiting for him at the base of the platform were the other five. They weren't standing like a team anymore, they were a wall of pure, defensive friction.
Leo's jaw was practically on the floor, his fingers twitching instinctively. Jade's eyes were humming with a faint, dangerous green static, the air around her boots vibrating with kinetic pressure. Kaleb stood right in the center, his fists clenched so tightly that faint golden embers of solar kinetic energy were sparking off his knuckles.
But it was Michael who stepped forward first, his tech-staff held loosely in his right hand. His face was pale, his analytical mind visibly struggling to process the data flashing across his personal wrist-monitor.
Michael: You let him press the trigger.
Ark didn't stop walking. He didn't even look at Michael as he passed him, heading toward the water dispenser by the central spire.
Ark: (Grunting) I saved nineteen. You guys couldn't even reach the fiftieth floor without blowing the building.
Kaleb: (With rage) We failed because we were trying to save everyone, Morningstar!. That's what a hero does!. You didn't even hesitate. You watched that guard's thumb move push the button, and instead of disarming him to protect the hostage, you just... you let him die so you could secure the other nine?.
Ark paused, taking a slow sip of water. He looked at Kaleb, his eyes completely dark, showing no emotion whatsoever.
Ark: If I tried to save him, the guard's reaction time would have beaten my blade by 0.2 seconds. The neurotoxin would have flooded the entire western ventilation shaft. Ten dead instead of one. I chose the higher probability.
Michael: (Staring at the holographic screen) It's not just the choice, Ark. It's your vitals. A.U.R.A had the realism markers at maximum. The smell of the blood spilling, the sound of the lungs collapsing, the feeling of flesh seperating... it was a 100% biological match for real trauma. I'm looking at your heart rate graph right now. Sixty beats per minute. Steady. It's like you felt nothing.
Leo: (Leaning forward) Yeah, man... seriously. I can run at Mach 2, but if I see a drop of blood, my stomach flips. I'm eighteen. I'm human. But you?. You threw that blade through a guy's throat like you were clearing a glitch in a video game. You didn't even blink. Where does someone your age learn to look at a dying person and treat it like a math problem?
Ark: From reality.
Jade: (Smirking coldly) Reality?. Or are you just empty?. You called us weak earlier. You said we were just nerfed versions of our parents. But at least we have a pulse, we have feelings. You look like a machine dressed in a hoodie.
Ark tossed the empty water cup into the bin by the pillar, his expression remaining as still as deep water.
Ark: Your parents spent over thirty years bench-pressing human extinction, and they still haven't cleared the dirt out of the streets. If having a pulse means failing a simple extraction for three weeks straight, then keep your pulse, keep your emotions. You all must have been sheltered all your lives, you probably still think ponies exist. Grow up. You're aiming to be heroes, and sometimes being a hero means not saving everyone.
Michael: That's how you choose to explain yours. I'd prefer you let us explain things in our own way.
Ark: (Scoffing) Yeah. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.
Sloane didn't say a word. She remained slightly levitated in the back, her golden glow dimming slightly as she watched Ark. She tilted her head, her bright eyes trying to pierce through his frame, looking for whatever was hiding behind his eyes.
Ark ignored the stare, shoving his hands back into his pockets and walking past Kaleb.
Up in the Vanguard's high-altitude observation suite, the silence was even heavier. The holographic display of Ark's split-floor routing was still rotating in the center of the liquid-light table.
Synapse adjusted his glasses, his face completely shadowed by the blue glare of the metrics.
Synapse: Look at the vertical entry parameters, Kaeleb. He bypassed the sub-atomic vibration sensors on the interior floors entirely by using the external envelope of the structure as a high-speed drop zone. He didn't utilize a single drop of energy flux. No core spike, no kinetic dispersion. It's pure, mechanical efficiency.
Paragon: Was I supposed to understand any of that?
Chronos: Look at it this way. Kiran's boy can't even process an execution that fast without his nerves burning out. To do that without an enhancement... it defies the laws of the Selection.
Geos: (His massive arms crossed like stone blocks) It's worse than that, Xavier. Look at the tactical choice on the fiftieth floor. He didn't make an emotional error. Most trainees, our kids included would have thrown themselves in front of the gas to play the martyr. He calculated the deficit within a millisecond and accepted the one fatality to secure the majority. That isn't a rookie mindset.
Synapse: (Turning his cold, calculating gaze toward Paragon) It's the mindset of a soldier who has already spent a lifetime in the dark, Kaeleb. I told you down in the war room that I don't believe in coincidences. This boy somehow stumbles upon the Doctor's base, a base even I couldn't locate and took down three of them, alone. Enters the Dome, and the first thing he does is dismantle Michael's tactical roadblock while showing an absolute deficit of human empathy. He's already showed he could take lives, what I didn't know was he could do so without showing any hint of emotion.
Paragon stood by the glass, looking down at the deck where Ark was walking away toward the Solstice Wing alone, while the other five kids stood in a tight, angry cluster. The golden king's armor caught the high-altitude sun, but his pained, defiant smile was gone. His eyes held a deep, heavy sadness.
Paragon: He cares, Xavier. He just knows the pros and cons of being a hero better than they do.
Synapse: (Sighing in defeat, swiping the holographic data away) Why can't you see the obvious red flag like the rest of us do?
**** 3:01pm. Ark's private ward ****
Voice: so I take it your first meet up ended tragically
Ark: (laying flat) like you didn't already watch everything.
Voice: for the first time, i didn't son. I wanted to get every detail from you.
Ark: well, sorry. There isn't any. They are all just a bunch of children trying to play hero.
Voice: the irony
Ark: don't give me that dad. They are sheltered, probably still believes in rainbows and ponies. I can't work with those.
Voice: ughh. Thought you loved ponies. You used to ride umbra all the time.
Ark: geez dad. Are you here to support me or them?.
Voice: I'm here to point you in the right direction. Look Nama'el. You're my son, meaning I know things about you that even you probably don't know. They are children just like you, only difference is i trained you be a prince and a warrior and they were trained to be heroes. Both can still work.
Ark: I doubt that
Voice: (chuckles) of course you do. I've been hearing what they call you, an anomaly. You're something they can't explain so of course their ideology from yours would differ, that's expected. But my son this is your best time to live, these are gonna be your best years. So instead of acting like a grownup cause you can make decisions others can't. How about you just enjoy your time with them. You can't just conclude they're below you
Ark: I'm not dad
Voice: You're doing exactly that. You haven't had any real friends after Renatus, so make a few. Enjoy your time here. And maybe, just maybe reduce the killing.
Ark: dadddddd
Voice: I'm serious, I know i had a part in over training you and I sincerely apologies but exactly how many body counts do you intend to get to before you arrive at my age?.
Ark: I only kill those who totally deserve it
Voice: i hear you loud and clear, but have you maybe thought of incapicitating them. Take out three fingers from each hands, slowly pull out their spine, gauge out their eyes slowly. Those are better than just killing.
Ark: how are you my father?. What kind of dark thoughts go through that head?
Voice: (laughing) my point remains the same, enjoy your time here. Enjoy being a hero. It's been your biggest dream so enjoy it. Don't ruin things by acting all mature and too big for the rest of the squad. Am I understood ?
Ark: fine
Voice: that wasn't the answer I wanted
Ark: yes dad. I totally understand
Voice: good, now prepare. You're having a visitor
Ark: uhh
Voice: i love you. Bye.
The phone went silent after that and almost immediately there was a knock on Ark's door.