Where the Past Bleeds

[Phase One Complete - Sector Winner: Emric Vale]

The message blinked across his HUD, followed by a long, slow chime. He stood in the wreckage of Sector 1189, chest rising and falling in steady exhaustion, surrounded by scorched beams, cracked plating, and lingering trails of smoke. The illusion of war faded slowly from the simulation—detonated walls repairing in glitchy spasms, collapsed scaffolds folding in reverse like origami undone.

The adrenaline that had been pulsing through his veins began to thin, and with it, the sheer weight of what he'd just survived hit him like cold steel.

sixteen eliminations.

Zero assists.

Emric Vale had entered Phase One a strategic outlier.

He exited it a problem— a Latent Cognivore

As the battlefield finally shimmered to transparency, the ground beneath his feet jolted—hydraulic platforms rising, lifting each sector winner from their isolated zone and ascending toward the Neutral Hold.

A glowing timer began to count down in his HUD.

[Intermission: 10 Minutes Remaining]

Not enough time to heal. Not even close. The burn across his ribs still throbbed, and his knee protested with every movement, even as the medical nanogel in his gear tried to patch over the damage.

The platform hissed to a stop, merging with a wide, open space lined with luminous panels, minimalist benches, and a row of gear bays humming with light. Around him, others arrived—some limping, some triumphant, others bloodied and dazed.

The 6,000 winners from each section.

He searched around hoping to see his friends— Karya and Lio. They were nowhere to be seen, he wondered how well they did in their respective sectors.

He was a bit thankful he hadn't run into Karya though, he wasn't sure his emotion were in the right place to face her. He brought his hands to his face and with light taps, a gesture of encouragement.

"Relax, relax... just be honest and it'll work out. It's not like you can keep avoiding her."

He caught sight of a small group forming near a supply terminal. Five initiates. Talking, comparing bruises. He moved toward them instinctively, if only to find footing amid the sea of unknowns.

"Hey," said one of the boys—a tall figure with sharp gray eyes and a relaxed and confident grin. "That flip you did at the end there? Nice recovery. Almost thought you were done."

Emric raised an eyebrow. "You were watching?"

"Just caught your landing. Name's Keiran Doss. Vanguard Class, a special talent with Shock-resonance." He extended a hand.

Emric shook it. "Emric Vale. Cognivore."

"Cognivore?" said another voice—one of the girls now leaning against the wall. "No wonder you moved the way you did." She had braids tied in a spiral coil around her crown and eyes that tracked every twitch like a hawk. "Yezri Amon. Arcanist. I specialize in compressive plasma flux."

"Which means stay out of the blast radius," Keiran added, smirking.

"Try not to breathe around me either," said a third boy, more compact and twitchy. "Cade Lin. Obscurant class. I track pheromonal trails and scramble thermal locks. Basically a nightmare for drones."

"Don't let him fool you," said the second girl, shorter, quieter, with a faraway expression. "He's a walking alarm system that never shuts up. I'm Juno Sel. Kinetor class. I do gravitational redirection. Light stuff."

The last to speak was a broad-shouldered teen with a quiet intensity and very curious eyes.

"Malric Dane," he said. "Unawakened."

There was a pause.

Then he added, "Yet."

"Ambitious," Emric said.

"Or foolish." Malric smiled faintly. "Time will tell."

Not too long ago he was also in the same boat, so he understood how it felt to always face skepticism amidst your brilliance. He encourage " The fact that you are standing here amongst us means you are truly special."

Malric nodded to him as a gesture of thanks but didn't respond. It was obvious he didn't want to reveal his cards yet. The rest shrugged.

Before the silence could settle in, Keiran clapped his hands. "Right, so we've got a Cognivore, an Arcanist, an Obscurant, a Kinetor, an Unawakened—"

"And a Vanguard," Emric said.

Keiran nodded. "This might actually be a decent group. Look, the next phase? It's points-based. Not elimination. Team-ups aren't discouraged."

Cade snorted. "They're just designed to self-destruct."

"Still," Keiran said, "better odds in a pack. That city we're going into isn't just any AR dump. It's based on actual 21st-century Earth data. Half-flooded hospitals, sunken skyscrapers, corrupted labs and abandoned districts."

The announcement flickered across the entire Neutral Zone.

[Phase Two – Begins in 7 Minutes. Objective: Score maximum points. Duration: 12 hours. Format: Urban Ruin / F-Tier to D-Tier creatures.]

"D-Tier?" Yezri said, eyebrows raised. "They're dropping full-bloods into this?"

"Not many," Juno added, eyes scanning the feed. "Says less than 6 total D-tiers across the entire sim. Most of it'll be low-level. F and E. Don't get cocky."

Cade leaned in. "Points are awarded per kill. Whoever gets the final hit bags the score. So sure, we can team up—but let's not pretend it's all hugs and hand-holding."

Emric remained quiet, thinking.

The room had filled now—6000 initiates, dozens already clustering into makeshift squads. Some stood alone by choice—loners with high confidence or social distrust. Others sought numbers.

Near one of the command uplinks, a cluster of onlookers had gathered.

"They say she has 27 confirmed kill," one whispered.

"No way, that has to be a rumor"

"Vessa Dray," someone else said. "Kinetor with the uncanny ability to shift object weight—make a tank feel like a feather or your weapon feel like a boulder. She's the daughter of Magnus Dray, CEO of Parallax Core."

A beat of silence followed.

"Wait—the Parallax Core? The logistics conglomerate that funds half the Northern sector's awakened divisions?"

"Yeah," the voice confirmed. "She's been training with their elite for years. Real missions, real combat. She's practically corporate military."

"Great," Cade muttered. "Daddy's girl with a private army."

Yezri smirked. "Better hope she's not as ruthless as her press releases."

Farther off, three figures stood like statues—separate, but watched.

"That's Enzo Halder," Juno murmured, nodding toward a bronze-skinned teen with a silent, coiled stance. "Arcanist. Plasma hyper-condense type. Ranked top in the Eastern corridor."

"And next to him is Rayven Myal," Yezri said. "Kinetor. Can supposedly lift even the weight of cars at at Tier-1.

"And that girl?" Cade asked.

They turned toward a silver-haired figure adjusting her weapon harness.

"Sari Ken," Malric said. "Vanguard with impact-nullification talent."

Emric watched them.

Top five, maybe. But reputation meant little without context.

His own name wasn't known. Not yet anyways.

"Time's ticking," Keiran said, turning back to their group. "We team up, we stand a chance. Don't step on each other's kills. Agreed?"

Emric glanced at the others.

Juno nodded. Yezri shrugged. Malric gave a quiet grunt.

"Sure," Cade said. "Why not. What's the worst that could happen?"

Emric gave a thin smile.

He'd soon find out.

[Loadout Access – Active]

He approached the terminal and began scanning weapons. Not flashy. Not big.

He selected a modified repeater with high-mobility grip, a micro-drone launcher, and a wrist-mounted neural relay designed for fast-input cognition loops.

His brain would be his greatest weapon.

And now, finally, he had a class to support it.

The platform below their feet hummed.

[Simulation Initializing… Phase Two Begins in 60 Seconds]

The city that would become their grave—or crucible—loaded in chunks of collapsing geometry. Steel and dust. Banners torn by time. Screams etched into rusted walls.

And beneath it all… another brutal battle awaited.

Emric adjusted his loadout strap, steadying his breathing.

Twelve hours of carnage.

And the real game had just begun.