Once upon a time, tens of thousands gathered in the plaza on this day. Now, just two.
The city was silent, except for the coughing and the crackle of the fire in the middle of the square.
Kai tossed another branch into the fire. He felt too weak to throw a full log. The smoke curled upward, lazy and thin. It barely helped with the shivering, but he clung to it anyway. Fires like this reminded him of before—back when there were more of them.
Cough. Cough.
He turned. Ariel sat hunched beside him, a thick shawl draped over her shoulders. Her body trembled from more than just the cold. The firelight revealed what she tried to hide—black veins snaking up her neck, sunken eyes, skin that looked more paper than flesh.
He knew that look. She was trying not to cry.
“It’s the first lottery with just the two of us,” Kai said gently, forcing calm into his voice. “Cough. Cough.”
“Maybe the last, too,” she whispered without looking at him. Her voice was soft. Hollow.
“We can still make it. We were lucky to catch the Blight this close to the Trials. There’s hope.”
Ariel shook her head. “Not if my name comes up.”
Kai swallowed hard. He wanted to say something comforting, but the truth was, Ariel had never made it far in the Trials.
“Well,” he said, forcing a shaky smile, “odds are it’s me anyway. Ten years in the lottery and not once? I’m due. I mean, what are the chances—?”
“Fifty percent.” She let out a dry, broken chuckle. “Previous lotteries don’t matter. It’s fifty percent. If Sunny were still alive, she’d slap you and make you recite the definition of random sampling.”
It earned a laugh—weak, but real. Not from the jab, but from the memory of Sunny. And with her came the memory of Neil, Albert, Clara, Seth—all the others who had once gathered around this fire. Learning. Laughing.
Now they were just names.
Then, the projectors activated.
Lines of blue light shot across the square, tracing patterns in the air. A holographic figure bloomed at the plaza’s center—tall, severe, feminine. Dressed in the sharp lines of a military uniform.
“Greetings, sector 3B,” the voice announced, metallic and precise.
Kai stiffened.
“The time has come for this year’s exam. Only candidates over sixteen qualify for the lottery.”
A moment of stillness.
“This year’s token will be… Kai Barrington.”
Silence.
Then, Ariel made a sound halfway between a gasp and a sob.
Kai exhaled slowly. Relief. Terror. Both twisted together in his chest. At least it wasn’t her.
“Kai…” she whispered, trembling. “I’m going to be all alone. What if the Trial takes too long? What if it’s too late when you get back? I’ll die alone! I—I...”
“Hey.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “We just caught the Blight. We still have at least two weeks. That’s more than enough time.”
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“But what if it’s not?” she said, voice cracking. “What if you don’t do well—”
“Ariel.” He cupped her face. Her skin was damp with tears. “Listen to me. I’m going to bring us the Allcure.”
He could tell she didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame her. Their sector hadn’t scored in the top four since Balin—over a century ago.
Heavy footsteps approached.
The cybermonkeys were coming—real apes, hunched and muscular, with glinting implants stitched into their skulls and limbs. Their eyes glowed faintly, synced to Daisy’s neural grid. If Kai didn’t move soon, they’d drag him to the elevator.
He was so weak, part of him wanted them to carry him.
Ariel clung to him. “Kai... Kai...”
“Honey, don’t give up hope. I’ll save us. I promise.”
She nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks.
He let go of her.
The elevator platform had risen from the center of the plaza.
Before the cybermonkeys reached him, Kai forced his legs to move. Each step scraped pain down his spine. But he walked anyway. Not for himself. For her.
He climbed onto the platform and looked back. Ariel stood at the edge of the firelight, a small, trembling figure in the vast, empty square.
The platform descended.
Cold metal walls closed in as he was led into the prep chamber below ground. The lights flickered on, revealing rows of pods—VR capsules, each shaped like a sarcophagus, lined with cables and fluid tubes.
Robotic contraptions herded him forward. One held his arm while the other inserted IV lines. Kai winced.
The helmet came next—a heavy thing with dozens of sockets. As they lowered it over his head, Kai caught one last glimpse of the ceiling.
One last cough.
The world blurred.
System initializing...
Calibration complete.
Welcome to the 353rd Daisy Trials.
Welcome, humans. You stand here as a token from your sectors. As vowed, I’ll test you and determine whether your seed should last or fade.
Kai turned his hands over, flexing his fingers. The accounts hadn’t lied. This place didn’t just resemble reality—it was reality. Every detail was perfect, down to the scar on his right hand. It felt like waking up in a dream that refused to break.
He took a deep breath and waited. No fever. No coughing. He closed his eyes, searching for any trace of pain. Nothing. The Blight hadn’t followed him here. Relief flooded him. If the disease had lingered in the simulation, his chances of winning would have been doomed before he even started. Ariel still had a chance. They still had a chance.
Now, his surroundings. White walls. No doors. No windows. The empty cubic room reminded him of a hospice—sterile and suffocating. If Daisy’s goal was to put him at ease, she was failing miserably. He felt like a patient waiting for surgery.
No instructions. No clues. No obvious exit. How many others were in the same position right now, trapped in identical white boxes?
Kai kept still, fighting the urge to fidget. Daisy was watching. She always was. No breath, no twitch of his fingers escaped her notice. If she found him lacking, he’d be gone before he ever learned why.
The 23rd Trials had started like this, too. A featureless room, no rules, no objectives. The first participants panicked. They demanded answers. Daisy had removed them from the Trial on the spot. Afterward, she revealed that the Trial had been about patience. The ones who had waited were allowed to continue to the next round.
This year’s challenge was still a complete mystery. It could be a maze run, a cooperative game, or a quiz. Or maybe something entirely new.
A voice—warm, dignified, merciless—interrupted his thoughts.
The two weakest traits of the last era were creativity and logic. The trial will now begin.
Creativity and logic. The words struck him like a puzzle missing half its pieces.
Data from years of studying previous Trials surfaced in his mind. Creativity was rare—this was only the fourth time in recorded history that it was being tested. Logical thinking, however, had appeared more frequently, roughly once every two to three decades. But never together. Until now.
The trial will now begin.
The white cube vanished. In the space of a blink, the stark emptiness was replaced by a woodland of brown and green. Gravel and pine needles cushioned his feet. A crisp breeze carried the scent of damp earth. The eerie silence of the cube gave way to the soft rustling of leaves.
Kai barely noticed any of it.
His heart slammed against his ribs as the weight of the moment came crashing down. What was he supposed to do? Was Daisy not going to explain anything else? Should he move? Stay still? His hands clenched into fists. The clock was already ticking, but he had no idea which way to run.
The stress of the day unraveled him, piece by piece.
Just a few minutes ago, he had held Ariel’s hand, making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. Then he was herded down by robots into a pod. Then came the white room. The sudden teleportation. Now, this.
Too much, too fast.
His mind filled with images of the other competitors arriving at their arenas, confident, already moving. They knew what they were doing. He was still frozen in place. He pictured the faces of his friends, sitting around the fire, watching him fail, their disappointment heavy in their eyes.
His legs wouldn’t move. His lungs felt tight.
Move, Kai. Move!
He willed his body to obey, but the panic held him still.
Then, a voice from memory cut through the chaos.
“Remember your training. Your brain knows what to do. Just breathe and let it work.”
Neil’s voice.
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