Morning did not begin with light.
It began with a scream.
High, sharp, cut short too quickly.
Balik flinched awake, breath stuck in his throat. The dorm was still dark, only faint gray leaking in through the barred window. Around him, bodies shifted—some startled, some annoyed, some unaffected.
Ishan sat up on his bunk rubbing his eyes, amber-gold irises catching the faint light.
"Tier Zero clean-out," he muttered. "They always start early."
From across the room, Mira rose silently. Her hair fell over her shoulders like a curtain of brown silk, her eyes—deep brown, almost black in shadows—calm as always.
Balik swallowed.
Tier Zero clean-out.
He had seen hints of it, bodies disappearing at dawn, whispers from older trainees, the caretaker screaming in the orphanage. But he had never been awake to hear it this clearly.
Something heavy thudded outside the dorm door.
Something dragged.
A broken whimper.
Then silence.
"Get up," Mira said, voice smooth, almost gentle. "You don't want to be mistaken for one of them."
That was enough.
Balik stood.
The metal rod struck the pipe again outside.
Training began.
THE YARD
The yard smelled of cold stone and damp metal. Lamps flickered overhead, their yellow light washing across dozens of trainees lined up by age and rank.
Varun stood at the front.
Coat immaculate.Amber eyes cold.Scar like a pale claw across his cheek.
Around him stood the instructors—shadows made of muscle and scars.
"Tier Zero clean-out is complete," Varun announced.
No emotion.Just fact.
Balik's heart hammered. He saw the stains on the ground beneath the far platform. Dark. Wet. New.
Varun's gaze swept the crowd.
"You are alive today because you are not useless yet. That may change."
He turned slightly, gesturing to the large board beside him.
Carved into the wood were words:
TIER 0 – RAWTIER 1 – SHAPEDTIER 2 – OPERATIVETIER 3 – AWAKENED
Balik's eyes focused.This was the system.
Varun spoke again.
"Since some of you still don't understand…"His eyes flicked to the younger kids—Balik included."…I will explain it clearly."
He pointed to the lowest word.
"TIER 0 — RAW MATERIAL"
"They are children too weak to train," Varun said. "If they do not reach Tier 1 by age nine, they are executed."
A smaller boy in Balik's row trembled.
Varun continued.
"No missions. No weapons. No value.The only measurement is whether they break."
A Tier 0 boy had broken this morning.Balik had heard it.
"TIER 1 — SHAPED"
Varun's fingers tapped the next line.
"Tier 1 must kill an animal every month."
Balik's stomach dropped.
A kid beside him whispered, "What kind of animal?"
Ishan answered without looking at him."Depends. Rabbit for first-timers. Dog if you're unlucky."
Mira's voice drifted from the other side of the line."If they refuse, they die. If they hesitate, they die slower."
Balik kept his face still.
Varun continued.
"If a Tier 1 trainee reaches age thirteen without qualifying for Tier 2, they are removed."
Balik understood the word now.
Removed meant dead.Gone.Vanished in the night.
"TIER 2 — OPERATIVES"
Several older teenagers stood proudly at the front rows—lean, muscled, eyes sharp or dead.
"These," Varun said, "are the blades."
Mira and Ishan were in this rank.
"Tier 2 trainees must beat weaker kids every week."
Balik's breath froze.
Not spar.Not train.
Beat.
To break empathy.To build dominance.
Balik saw it happen immediately.
A Tier 2 boy—maybe 15—grabbed a Tier 1 girl and shoved her to the ground. She cried out, clutching her ribs. He kicked her once. Twice. Three times.
No one stopped him.
Mira watched with a tilt of her head, like studying a painting.
Ishan barely reacted, only cracking his neck.
The girl lay unmoving.
"Get up," Varun said coldly.
When she didn't, two men dragged her away.
"TIER 3 — AWAKENED"
Varun gestured to the top of the board.
"Tier 3 requires awakening. Power. Essence."
Balik watched a group of older, more dangerous teenagers step forward. Their eyes glowed slightly—red, yellow, blue. Their aura pressed against the air.
"They must complete one assassination every three months," Varun said. "Failure means death."
Rumors spread among Tier 1 kids.
"Last month three of them died—""I heard one killed a village chief—""My brother awakened but never came back—"
Balik listened silently.
This was the future.
Or the end.
A BODY ON THE GROUND
The instructors dragged someone into the yard—a boy around twelve. His shirt was soaked in blood. His cheek had been ripped open. His eyes still moved, faintly.
"He failed the rope test," Ishan whispered."No strength. No balance. No future."
Varun raised his hand.
The instructor stabbed downward—quick, clean.
The boy's body went still.
Mira did not flinch.
Balik didn't blink fast enough.
Her gaze caught his reaction.
"You're still soft," she murmured.
"I'm not," Balik said, too quickly.
Mira's lips curved—just slightly.
"You will be."
THE ANIMAL PIT
Tier 1 kids were marched toward a cage.
Inside:
Rabbits.Cats.A dog growling low.
Balik's heart pounded. His mouth dried.
One boy stepped forward first.
He held the knife wrong. His hands shook. He dropped it once.
Varun watched him with bored detachment.
The boy stabbed—and missed.The animal shrieked.The boy hesitated.
Varun sighed.
The instructor slit the boy's throat.
Gasps.Shocked silence.
Balik felt his stomach twist.
Mira stepped closer, whispering near his ear:
"This is why I told you not to hesitate."
Her breath was warm.Her words were cold.
WEEKLY BEATINGS — TIER 2
Now Tier 2 were ordered forward.
Mira and Ishan included.
"Choose your weak," the instructor barked.
Tier 2 kids walked among Tier 1 like predators choosing prey.
A boy grabbed Balik's arm.
Balik tensed.
Ishan's hand closed around the boy's wrist.
"No," Ishan said."He's mine."
The boy scoffed. "You can't keep a pet."
Ishan's amber eyes flashed.Heat radiated off him despite no awakening.
"Want to test that?" he said quietly.
The boy backed off.
Mira approached Balik instead.Studied him.
"You're too calm," she said."Don't lose that."
Then she grabbed another Tier 1 trainee and hit him across the face, sending him sprawling.
"See?" she said to Balik."This is how you protect your position."
Balik's chest tightened.
Was this his future?
NIGHT — BODIES AND WHISPERS
At night, he lay awake.
Bodies were carried past the dorm.Some wrapped in cloth.Some do not.
He heard crying from the cellar.He heard laughter from older trainees.He heard Mira humming a strange tune two beds away.
Ishan slept on his back, arm thrown over his face.
As Balik stared at the ceiling, Tejas whispered faintly:
This is wrong…
Balik whispered back:
"…I don't have a choice."
Something inside him twisted.
Something inside him hardened.
In the darkness, Mira's quiet voice drifted from the other side of the room:
"Only those who accept this place survive.Good night, Balik."
Her brown eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
He didn't reply.
He didn't sleep.
He simply waited for morning.