A Simple Scenario (I)

  They came to a stop.

  Only a few steps shy from their position was a set of big, white doors. It wasn’t the type of barrier that relied on physical force to grant entry, the doors were automatic. An electronic display board resting above the doors blinked to life and illuminated the words ‘Special Assessment Ward’, however neither of them paid any attention to the flashing words.

  The two of them had seen it all before; multiple times in fact.

  For all its grandiosity the room wasn’t actually meant to be used very often, hence the word ‘special’ in bold. Not many people knew it existed and among those who did, only a handful of them actually knew what it was for. It was considered alien territory for a decent portion of the hospitals staff—a sentiment that wasn’t shared by the low ranked deviant glaring at the sterile white doors. Even with an extra set of hands he still wouldn’t be able to count the number of times he was hauled off to the isolated room.

  Miller approached the control panel affixed to the wall and flaunted a small card before the blinking sensor. The display shifted, showing a green light and the words: Access Granted. With a soft whoosh, the doors slid open. A cold shroud lazily crawled along the floor—escaping from the room filled with sterile white lights and the low buzz of technology at work.

  “After you.” the physician gestured with his free hand, delivering a motion lacking luster.

  “It feels like I haven’t been here in a while. Can you spare me the mist this time? I haven’t been doing too well in the cold lately.” Cyril replied lackadaisically as he paced himself into the room, failing to notice the physician’s poor attempt at a humorous gesture.

  “That's not mist.” Miller shrugged and followed behind him. Upon sensing his departure, the shiny sterile doors skated across the floor with another low whooshing sound. "It's only cold in here because of the air conditioner. Besides how often have you seen mist forming inside hospital rooms?”

  “It may as well be mist. This is torture.”

  “You’re a deviant—a striker at that, so suck it up and make use of your aura.”

  “That’s a lot of praise. You’re giving me too much credit I’m just a lowly D-rank.” joked Cyril, allowing himself a wry grin.

  “We’ll see about that.” the physician shot back, his tone sharp and focused.

  In accordance with its name, the modern—almost futuristic looking room was completely empty. They were the only ones in the cold, white space, which meant there couldn’t have been many “special patients” at the moment.

  There rarely ever were.

  It deserved the right to be called a ward given how big it was, but that also gave the place a certain ‘hollowness’ to it. The walls gleamed in pristine white, broken only by glowing panels and screens displaying swirling, ghostly images of internal anatomy. At the center, something that closely resembled an MRI machine loomed like a portal, its circular frame bathed in a soft ivory glow.

  The examination table seemed to hover on its pedestal, the smooth surface waiting, clinical and unyielding. Getting sent here left no room for any assumptions because whatever the individual reason was, it could always be traced back to a common cause—the patient’s condition demanded the attention of the lead physician himself. More than a century had passed since the advent of Ragnarok introduced the mystical concept of mana and gates to the world. Aside from the constant threat of otherworldly monsters, gates also held a vast amount of untapped natural resources unlike anything humanity had ever seen.

  Mana in particular, was viewed as a peerless source of renewable energy capable of altering society as a whole. However, that possibility would continue to remain just that— ‘a possibility’. In reality, decades passed by and the world remained largely unaffected by the sudden developments simply because of how little was known about them.

  For the most part, Ziggurat operated under different physical laws from Earth, and the spoils obtained from that world were best left to those who deviated from the norm themselves. Attempting to research something so volatile would be foolish otherwise, especially over the course of a ten-year war with the fate of humanity at stake.

  Even after a full century, the global deviant population had yet to scratch the ten percent threshold. That number had been much lower during the decade humans spent waging war against otherworldly beasts without any real plan of action. Once mankind gained the upper hand, it took even more time for society to recalibrate, mainly because of interference from the smaller and more frequent ‘rogue’ gates that were prone to appear at random, leaving little opportunity for any meaningful research on mana to be done.

  It was thanks to Babylon City’s pioneering of the illustrious ‘towers’ in the aftermath of Ragnarok that research into mana and other mystical matters started to become a legitimate field of study.

  Thus, the subject matter known as 'Magical-Integration' or 'M.I.' became a reality.

  The power of potions and runes were discovered and utilized over the course of Ragnarok, but more sophisticated procedures would require the utilization of both mana and machinery. This room— the ‘Special Assessment Ward” was the culmination of that idea, a delicate interplay between mana and machinery at work.

  Having pioneered practically every industry related to Ziggurat, Babylon city was of course the global frontrunner of this practice in the medical field as well. Still, the technology at play wasn’t without flaw. M.I. was still a rather nascent field of study, but modern-day researchers, especially those within Babylon had already come to accept its greatest shortcoming. As a general rule of thumb, it was widely accepted that magical integration—no matter how precise—could never exceed thirty percent efficiency.

  Manites, the quantum entities that made up mana, were extradimensional in nature. When present in large concentrations, they became impossible to regulate through any system relying on parallel processing, as they existed in multiple states simultaneously. The effect could only be mitigated by using smaller amounts of ambient mana, which naturally resulted in a lower output. As a result, magical integration was often limited to powering simpler systems, such as mana sensors.

  M. I. was originally intended to be a system designed to treat conditions exclusive to deviants; however, certain circumstances led to the discovery of new applications for the technology.

  For normal humans with no way to access mana, it was practically flawless.

  “Alright, you know the drill. Take off your shirt and lay down on the table. We’ll start off with a three-hour scan before doing some blood tests and then a full physical examination.” Miller outlined the procedure in a cool tone, but his words quickly faded, swallowed by the room’s hollow expanse.

  Cyril obeyed with a sigh and began doing exactly as he was told. Before long the boy quickly climbed atop the chilly examination table and flattened his posture.

  “Nostalgic, isn’t it Cyril?”

  “A little. But not in a good way.” he replied faintly, sounding dazed from the bright ceiling lights. If it wasn’t for recent events, the thought of being stuck in this room for hours would have plagued him with misery, but now things were different.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  He wanted answers more than anything else.

  Of course, he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of completely putting his faith in Aria, but this was the only other way to confirm her claims.

  “I used to think these scans would be faster since we’re supposedly leading the rest of the world in magical integration. According to chairman Wilhelm, not even the NAC has figured out how to build one of these things on their own yet.”

  “To a certain extent, its the truth. We’re leading the rest of the world in M.I. because this city practically has a monopoly on dungeons and Ziggurat as a whole thanks to the towers. That’s what they use to attract all these deviants here since gates don’t open very frequently outside these walls.” Miller responded quickly from his workstation, his fingers flying across the flashing keys of the control panel. Each rapid click opened and closed a new window on the large, projected screen hovering in mid-air.

  “Then it looks like you’ve still got your work cut out for you, Doctor Miller,” Cyril remarked, eyes shut against the harsh ivory lights. “At this rate, the rest of the world might actually catch up.”

  “Please.” The doctor smirked sarcastically.

  “M.I. isn’t going to help anyone get the upper hand inside dungeons because of all the ambient mana floating around in there, our machines don’t fair too well in those environments. It’s intended purposes are mostly geared towards simple everyday tasks and other practical applications on this side. That being said...” He trailed off suddenly and moved to click a small button on the underside of the examination table.

  There was a shrill clicking sound as the table craned up a few inches and slowly slid into the cylindrical machine resembling an MRI scanner. “...mana makes magic, not miracles. It still has limitations like everything else. Even this machine, it uses the same principle as an MRI scanner since mana particles, or ‘manites’ are able to record and transmit information, but the drawback is that the process varies considerably depending on the patient’s cognitive affinity index.”

  (“Can we get started already? It's cold in here you know!”) Cyril—having lost interest under the influence of the cold—shouted from inside the cylindrical chamber.

  Shrugging to himself, Miller simply answered “Sure” and clicked the enter key on the control panel. The grooves carved into the machine sparked with a pulsating white light. The physician stepped back and casually adjusted his glasses, observing the spectacle with keen interest as the machine emitted a low, otherworldly sound, as though it were alive and awakening.

  "Well," he muttered under his breath, "let’s see what you’ve got."

  >>>>>-----------<<<<<<<

  Several hours had passed since Cyril entered the Special Assessment Ward.

  After completing all kinds of medical examinations, the good doctor dismissed him without a hint of hesitance in his tone. Not that he thought very much of the abrupt dismissal. Truthfully, he didn’t want to spend more than two hours in that room, but reality wasn’t so kind.

  His examination lasted for several hours, almost a full workday. As soon as they got done with the final test, Miller forged a perplexed expression and quickly sent him away. Before he left the room Cyril heard him muttering something along the lines of ‘this can’t be right’ before re-engaging the flashing square keys on his keyboard.

  The wording was a bit ominous, but he decided to not think about it too deeply. If it was really something bad, then the physician wouldn’t have sent him away in the first place. If nothing else, he trusted Miller’s intuition—the man had saved him from the loving jaws of death far too many times to not recognize a death flag when he saw one.

  That was the conclusion he settled on and although it wasn’t much, it was enough to prevent him from panicking. Thus, he ended up wandering down the wide hallway without any actual destination in mind. Eventually he ended up back in the reception lobby. It was a wide, open space lined with a few support pillars and a broad reception desk, polished and gleaming under the influence of white light.

  Various forms of seating littered the area—from sofas to single chairs—most of which were empty at the moment. Curiously turning his head, Cyril’s eyes caught sight of the only member of staff in the lobby at the moment, a young receptionist scanning the seemingly endless bundles of text scrolling down her freakishly thin computer screen, the reflection glinting off her glasses.

  His eyes wandered to the analogue clock hanging above her head, slowly ticking away the seconds that seemed as if they were momentarily lagging in time.

  “Its almost midnight huh. I wonder how many hours I spent inside that place?” Cyril said, mumbling to himself unconsciously.

  A shrill beep echoed from the machine in front of him as he bent down to retrieve his spoils from the vending machines dispenser. His hand came away with two identical cans of black coffee. They both shared more than just the cylindrical shape, the iconic price tag amounting to just under a dollar was stylishly slapped on their underside as well. Walking with the cans in hand, he looked up to meet the eyes of the receptionist. She lowered her gaze to the pair of matte black cans and smiled at him, then she lightly raised her own as a form of salutation.

  He responded with a smile before attempting to continue his walk down the empty halls.

  [Alert. Cyril, a combat scenario has been initiated. Prepare to intercept your opponent at once.]

  He froze instinctively.

  A combat scenario? Right now?

  With a twist; Cyril spun his body reflexively, eyes scanning the surroundings like a vigilant predator. His breaths became heavy, and he could feel—no, hear his own heart thumping madly in his chest. As absurd as her claim was, he felt inclined to believe Aria’s warning for some reason.

  Aria, I need answers but make it quick! Cyril demanded, shouting internally.

  Explain what you mean by a combat scenario and tell me why its happening now?

  [Acknowledged. The Realm Factor has unlocked a new ability within you, the unique skill [Juggernaut]. To ease the transition, a series of controlled scenarios will be deployed for training purposes. A one-way conduit has also been established via your new heart, linking you to the Operator. Through this link, the Operator may initiate minor breaches at your location, introducing tailored adversaries based on the scenario’s parameters.]

  Crap, so it's testing me now on top of everything else?

  [Correct. You are being tested. As this is your first scenario, your opponent will likely match your current capabilities. However, exercise caution—your risk of death remains present and unmitigated.]

  “Um, sir, are you okay? You’re looking kind of pale.”

  He noticed the receptionist’s concern but dismissed it immediately. He had no other choice—not after experiencing such a dreadful sensation in the moment. It was the same feeling he had when he rushed to Carissa's aid at the highway junction: that surreal, unmistakable sense where every nerve, fiber, and cell in his body screamed that danger was near.

  “You’ve got to get out of here.” Cyril replied, his tone growing bolder.

  “Huh? Sir, I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that.”

  “Listen to me, a breach is about to form here, and a powerful monster will come through it without fail. If you stay here, you’re going to die.”

  Witnessing his sweat, panic and most of all, the determined glare in his eyes, the receptionist took a carful step back, struggling to process a reply. Her answer was too late, it never came. There was a strange sound. It came abruptly, sounding muted and hard to process, but gradually building overtime until the distinct pitch of space itself being sundered was unmistakable.

  “Oh my god...” The receptionist slumped forward, overwhelmed after witnessing the strange phenomenon unfolding in the middle of the lobby.

  A literal crack had formed in the fabric of space itself. It resembled a series of jagged lines branching outwards from a central point—joining, overlapping, intersecting and expanding to a radius of around five meters. A deep violet glow pulsed through the disjointed gaps of the spatial anomaly—each pulse growing deeper and stronger than the last. Finally, the gaps brightened all at once, and the crumpling fragment of space gave way to a sudden surge of power, shattering like fragile glass.

  The once silent lobby suddenly fell prone to the effects of a loud presence—not the audible kind, it was more of a primal warning, an indication that danger was here. The low rumbling of footsteps echoed from within the black breach, a sign that something was about to appear from beyond the spatial darkness.