The surveillance chamber was quiet—quiet in the way deep oceans were quiet.
Dozens of holographic screens floated in concentric rings, each replaying fragments of the Human Racial Orientation Exam.
Crushed bones under pressure fields.
Psychic mazes breaking wills.
Simulations of extinction and rebirth.
Three hundred human domains… suffering in silence.
The woman stood in the center of the storm.
Tall, sharp, controlled.
She had red hair her amber-gold eyes flicked across the screens with clinical detachment—until one image stopped her hand mid-motion.
She leaned closer.
A girl… screaming.
Sweat dripping.
Knees barely holding.
Fighting gravity with desperation.
Her aide stepped forward.
"Earth-236, ma'am. A low-tier domain. One of the weakest one's."
The woman didn't answer.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the struggling girl's face.
"Do you recognize her?" the aide asked.
A very faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"…Yes. The little one from the UNE qualifiers."
The aide blinked.
"You mean the self-impalement girl you told me about ?"
"Exactly."
Her tone was almost amused.
She remembered perfectly—
a dim evaluation room, a blade flashing, a girl forcing herself to bleed just to advance.
A reckless, savage, brilliant decision.
Not genius.
Not talent.
Resolve.
The kind that couldn't be manufactured.
The kind that threatened systems.
Her eyes sharpened.
"So she made it through the human exam too."
A soft chuckle escaped her.
"Good. I wasn't wrong about that one."
She swiped her hand again.
Another screen shifted into place:
Amos, lying on the gravity floor, conserving energy while others broke themselves trying to stand.
Her expression flickered.
"That boy… again."
Yes one of the few humans who cleared points in their domain, well it was a weak domain he added
"His data is still incomplete," the aide said.
"We can't classify his result."
His mind and goals are complex
"We don't need to yet."
She folded her hands behind her back as the screens rotated, showing Alexandria, Varis, Cairn, and others.
"The true pieces always reveal themselves eventually."
Her steps echoed as she turned to leave.
"Prepare for the next session," she said.
I guess the other races are also taking a similar approach to us....
Yes ma'am after all this is fool proof and the most advanced of it's kind, but that is it for now
"The children will wake soon."
She paused at the doorway—
one last glance at Eghosa's face trembling under the spiralling light.
As she gazed at what Eghosa was encountering
That faint smirk returned.
"Let's see," she whispered,
"if that little girl is still willing to bleed for what she wants."
The doors hissed shut.
And the lights faded—
cutting directly into:
Eghosa woke with a violent gasp.
Her lungs heaved as if she had been dragged from underwater. Cold sweat clung to her skin. The ceiling above her pulsed with faint waves of blue light, like a calm ocean spread across the sky.
She froze.
This was her room.
Villa 7–14.
Not the Orientation Hall.
Not the blinding light.
Not the exam.
She tried to breathe, but the memory felt like a bruise pressed into her mind.
"What… happened…?"
There was no answer. Only the faint sounds of movement downstairs.
She realized she wasn't the only one awake.
She stepped into the hallway and found Melissa hugging her own arms, face pale and tired.
"You too?" Melissa whispered.
Eghosa nodded. "I don't remember. Not fully."
"Same. Just pieces. And fear."
They walked downstairs together.
The sight made Eghosa stop cold.
The villa was in quiet chaos.
Rek'thar was pacing in circles, claws carving grooves into the floor that instantly healed. His fur stood on end, golden eyes wide and unstable.
"I fought my ancestors," he growled suddenly. "Saw them. Heard them. Felt their blood. But they were not real."
I suppose you humans didn't fare better amongst your race
He wasn't talking to anyone. Just releasing pressure before he tore the house apart.
Eghosa's throat tightened.
The Baka exam must have been a test of lineage. Survival. Worth.
It was very different from the human test
Cairn sat stiffly on the couch, his sword resting across his lap. He wasn't sharpening it or touching it—just staring.
"We had to stand," he said quietly. "Stand before giants that judged us. They didn't move. They only looked. Every breath felt wrong."
Eghosa felt her skin prickle.
How was cairn the only one among them that remembered what happened after they fell into the light
The human trial had been pressure. Judgment. Evaluation.
She still had no memory of what exactly happened after the light swallowed her.
Olenna curled into a floating chair, hugging her legs. Her horns glowed faintly but shakily.
"I heard everything," she whispered. "Every mind. Every thought in the Jada collective at once. It was like drowning."
Melissa touched her shoulder. "Olenna… what answered you when you asked for silence?"
Olenna shook her head quickly. "It wasn't Jada. I don't know what it was."
A chill ran through the room.
Sol-Vaar stood by the window, posture perfect, expression unreadable.
"What about you?" Cairn asked.
Sol-Vaar didn't turn. "They stripped me of my abilities. My strength. My energy. My flight. Then increased gravity until bone cracked."
Eghosa swallowed. "Did all Omini-Narians get that?"
"No. Just me," he replied.
"And?" Cairn whispered.
Sol-Vaar finally looked at them.
"I died."
The room went silent.
"But perhaps death was only simulated," he added quietly.
A voice came from the stairs.
"Was it?"
Amos.
Everyone instinctively shifted away from him as he walked in—subtly, unconsciously. Not out of fear. Not out of discomfort. Just… human instinct responding to something it didn't understand.
He offered no emotion.
No explanation.
No presence.
Just a quiet void.
Rek'thar growled. "You have not spoken. What was your exam?"
Amos blinked once. "Not sure."
Sol-Vaar muttered, "Liar."
Amos didn't answer. He simply sat on the arm of a chair and remained silent.
That somehow made the room colder.
They talked much about the different trials they faced in their races, throughout the conversation the group found one constant-after all their first test, they all fell into a spiral of light and for some reason only Cairn, Sol-Vaar, Olenna and Rek' thar could remember what happened, Eghosa only felt as confused as Melissa and maybe Amos
A soft chime filled the air.
Their Identifiers lit up, projecting a hologram.
Racial Orientation Exams Complete
Results Classified
Racial Classes Will Be Held Once Per Week
Seventy-Two Hours Recovery Mandatory
Melissa stared at the message. "Only once a week? So… what do we do the rest of the time?"
A faint pressure pulsed behind Eghosa's eyes.
Olenna whimpered.
Rek'thar clenched his fists.
Cairn gripped his sword tighter.
Sol-Vaar narrowed his eyes.
Amos blinked slowly.
Eghosa whispered, "We weren't just tested. We were changed."
Nothing changes Sol-Vaar muttered
Another message appeared.
Training Zones Unlocked
Begin Personal Development After Recovery
A map unfolded beneath the words. Seven zones. Endless paths. Endless dangers.
Rek'thar bared his teeth in something like excitement. "Finally. Something I can hit."
Cairn straightened. "I need to get stronger."
Now more than ever he wanted an crave for strength
Olenna wiped her tears. "Maybe a zone will help me control my mind she giggled…" she was back to being curious again
Sol-Vaar closed his eyes. "I will conquer whatever lies ahead." after all what exactly can stop me
Melissa took a deep breath. "We'll handle it. Together."
Eghosa nodded. She still felt small. But for once, she didn't feel alone, maybe they weren't yet close enough to be a team, maybe they were, but she hoped for one thing that one day just like today they would all trust each other and be a true team.
Finally, they all turned to Amos.
For some reason he was just the party of neutrality amongst them
He looked at them—calm, unreadable.
"We should begin," he said quietly.
And somehow, that simple sentence felt like the true beginning of their journey.