Where the Past Bleeds

The induction hall dimmed in a coordinated sweep of overhead lights. A low thrumming echoed through the steel-veined walls as phase one of the Gauntlet was about to begin. Emric stood near the outer perimeter, eyes half-lidded as he absorbed the ambient tension thickening the air like static before a storm. The rest of his cohort made their way to the new groupings they were assigned to.

Information filtered in through the academy's projected briefing displays, each screen crisp and angular, suspended in magnetic locks. The population of Vanta Core— The largest city in both scale and population—ticked overhead: 302,448,101 residents as of the last census.

Ten percent awakening rate.

Roughly 30 million individuals with class-aligned resonance. It sounded impressive until one compared it to the city's full mass. The world still belonged to the ordinary.

This year's induction numbers were no less staggering: 600,000 invitations, filtered through biometric flagging, heritage clearance, and potential-class resonance metrics. From that pool, the Academy intended to retain 30,000 initiates. Only the most adaptable, exceptional, or strategically valuable would remain after all three phases.

Of those numbers, fewer than 5,000 were unawakened—like Emric.

Their invitations weren't based on raw power or combat metrics. They were tagged through subtler things: talents in other important research fields that can push humanity forward, unique brainwave patterns, ancient gene signatures barely understood by the academy's deepest databases. Individuals like Emric were admitted not to fill numbers, but for the greater goal of all of humanity.

"Phase One of the Gauntlet will now begin," a voice droned above, calm and mechanical.

Holograms flickered to life on the floor, expanding into thousands of vertical frames showing simulated terrain profiles. Emric's own shifted and locked in:

[Scenario 914-B: Urban Collapse | High-Tier Engagement Threats.]

Each scenario included 100 participants. Only one could win.

6,000 initiates would automatically advance through this phase.

The rest of the quota would be assigned based on skill, adaptability, potential, and unique displays. A very slim margin. For non-awakened, that margin narrowed further.

It wasn't hopeless. But it was close.

Across the hall, sharp lines formed on the floor, leading initiates toward the staging vaults. Emric stepped forward, his sync band deactivated, replaced now with the Academy's battle interface: a high-resolution wrist pad, now integrated into a sleek HUD unit along the right forearm, pulsed green.

[Combat Uniform Authorization: GRANTED]

[Weapon Loadout Allocation: CLASS 1, NON-ENHANCED]

[Class: UNAWAKENED | Scan Level: High Neural Efficiency]

The chamber he entered was one of thousands—an equipment vault lit by directional lighting, lined with panels that slid open in response to wristpad commands.

Emric paused. The room was silent. His heartbeat was not.

He tapped the panel. Options bloomed in a blue holographic wheel:

He didn't hesitate.

He selected the Pulse Repeater Rifle as his primary weapon—modular and reliable. Not the strongest option, but it responded well to predictive targeting and manual aim, making it perfect for someone who relied on wits over brute force.

Next, he secured the kinetic blade to a sheath at his hip. Its tactical flexibility was unmatched in close quarters. His fingers brushed over the EMP flare and foam mines—tools for control, not aggression.

The locker hissed open again, revealing his AR Combat Uniform: tight-fit, graphite black, lined with light-reactive mesh for damage tracking. The boots magnetically sealed, and the chest plate bore a muted silver mark: No Class Registered.

Emric slid into the gear without flourish.

Behind him, the walls shimmered as the terrain reconfiguration loaded. The AR tech wasn't virtual—it was projected reality, controlled through embedded field emitters, nanometric gas dispersion, and layered terrain constructs.

He reviewed his scenario.

Urban Collapse. One hundred combatants. Crumbling high-rises. Collapsing bridges. Traps. Weak structures. Human opponents, all of them vying for one slot.

He tapped his wristpad again. A schematic flickered.

Estimated Class Distribution (Scenario 914-B):

Vanguard – 28%

Arcanist – 23%

Kinetor – 22%

Cognivore – 12%

Obscurant – 5%

Augmented – 9%

Unawakened – 1%

The odds weren't fair. But then, they never had been.

Most of those who were awakened were still at Tier 1—latent or barely resonant. They had strength but not mastery. Class abilities were often unstable this early, especially in volatile classes like Arcanist and Kinetor.

Vanguards dominated close quarters. Brutal, direct. Arcanists were area-destruction experts—but burned out fast. Kinetors excelled in field manipulation, redirection, and ranged disarmament. Cognivores? Almost none existed, you could never see them coming but when they did, they rewrote the field. Obscurants were wildcards. Often underestimated. Augmented wielded tech and their enhanced body like armor. Dangerous—but predictable.

And the Unawakened

They were background noise.

Except Emric didn't plan on staying background for long.

As he thought over all these and straightened out strategies that might help him come out on top, a voice buzzed in his comm-link:

"Candidate 61242. Combat environment stabilizing. Prepare for deployment."

He took a breath. Then another.

The floor beneath his feet rumbled. Walls slid apart. The light bent around him—and then the AR Gauntlet surged to life.

A cityscape. Half-collapsed, dust filtering through fractured support beams, flickering hazard signs on suspended railways. Fires smoldered in the distance. Somewhere in the smoke, figures moved—some slowly, some fast.

Emric raised his rifle.

He smiled tightly. "Well, I always did prefer tests with a high failure rate."