The clang of the reinforced doors echoed through the Halls as the twelve chosen teens filed into the training dome.
The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin itch and your instincts sharpen. Today was the Council's Evaluation—a private showcase of each teen's combat potential. Not for fame. Not for glory. For survival.
Mallory stood near the back, her crossbow slung across her back, her eyes scanning the room with unnerving precision.
Her enhanced sight caught every flicker of movement, every twitch of nervous energy. She could see the sweat beading on foreheads, the subtle tremors in hands. Everyone was scared.
To her left, Dread stood silent, arms crossed, his swords strapped to his back. He hadn't said much since last night, but he hovered near her like a shadow. Protective. Quietly loyal.
Lynx stood to her right, cool and composed, her daggers sheathed at her sides. Her sharp eyes flicked toward Mallory, giving a subtle nod.
They hadn't spoken about what they saw in the restricted wing—the Council's secret search for a cure—but the truth hung between them like a loaded weapon.
Then a guy jogged toward their direction.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a mop of messy red hair and a massive axe slung across his back. His hands were wrapped in thick bandages, and his grin was wide enough to be dangerous.
"Hope I didn't miss the fireworks," he said, flashing a wink at no one in particular. "Name's Ashe. I smash things. Nice to meet you."
Mallory raised an eyebrow. Dread narrowed his eyes. Lynx tilted her head, curious.
Ashe sauntered over and stood beside them like he'd always been part of the group.
"You three look like you know what you're doing," he said, nudging Dread with his elbow. "Mind if I tag along? I promise I hit hard and talk too much."
Dread grunted. Lynx smirked. Mallory just nodded once.
The loudspeaker crackled.
"Initiates. Step forward when called. Your performance today will determine your access to specialized gear for missions beyond the Walls. You may proceed."
The arena shifted. Targets rose from the floor—some humanoid, others shaped like the grotesque, long-limbed silhouettes of the Hollows. Fog hissed from vents, simulating the dense mists outside the Walls.
Mallory stepped into the center, her crossbow already loaded. Her pupils dilated, irises glowing faintly. She could see through the fog, trace the outlines of every target.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
Each bolt struck with surgical precision—straight into the scent glands, the only known weak spot of the Hollows. She pivoted, reloaded, and fired again, hitting moving targets that darted across the arena.
Then came the drone—fast, erratic, twitchy. She tracked it, waited—
Thwip. Direct hit.
She stepped back, silent.
The fog hadn't cleared when Dread stepped forward. He unsheathed his swords, eyes closed.
The arena released humanoid dummies, each armed and moving unpredictably.
Dread didn't need to see. He felt everything.
He moved like a storm—silent, fast, brutal. His blades danced through the fog, slicing through targets with terrifying precision. He ducked, spun, and parried with instinct. His enhanced sense of feel let him read the air, the vibrations, the tension.
When the last dummy fell, Dread stood still, blades crossed behind his back.
Lynx entered the maze-like arena next. Stealth drones activated, mimicking the Hollows' silent, predatory movements.
But Lynx heard them all.
Her enhanced hearing picked up the faintest hums, the softest shifts in air. She moved like a shadow, her daggers flashing.
One drone lunged. She ducked, spun, and drove her blade into its core.
Then came the guards—two elite fighters. Lynx flowed between them, disarming and disabling them with graceful efficiency.
Then came Ashe.
The arena shifted again—this time, a series of heavy, armored dummies rose from the floor. Designed to simulate the brute strength of a Hollow in full charge.
Ashe cracked his knuckles, grinned, and unslung his axe.
"Alright, big boys. Let's dance."
He charged.
His axe swung in wide arcs, cleaving through armor like paper. He moved with surprising speed, his enhanced strength turning every strike into a shockwave. One dummy lunged—he caught it with a punch that sent it flying across the arena.
Another tried to flank him. He spun, slammed his axe down, and shattered it into pieces.
He laughed the whole time.
When the last target fell, Ashe turned to the Council and gave a mock bow.
"You're welcome."
The arena fell silent.
Then the Council's lead officer stood.
"You've shown skill."
He paused.
"You will be granted clearance for advanced equipment. Your team will be outfitted for long-range recon and Hollow engagement. You leave the Walls at sunrise. Take a rest for now."
Mallory glanced at everyone in the room.
They were ready.
But outside the Walls, the real monsters waited.
And the Council's secrets were only just beginning to unravel.