- Oliver -

  "Sir," Oliver began, once Dante acknowledged him. "If you're capable of altering your appearance and clearly have more experience than us, why aren't you the one going on this mission?"

  Dante scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully, his gaze drifting momentarily as he considered how to expin.

  "Understand. Although there was an attack by the Children of The Past, they are still not the highest priority for the Empire. We still have the Tenth Wave happening, while a rebellion is taking pce on Encedus," Dante expined. "I would have to be stuck on this mission for months, maybe years. At least, that's what I wish was the main reason."

  Even with Dante's modified face, Oliver could tell that he seemed slightly embarrassed to continue expining.

  "I have most likely been identified by the Children of the Past," Dante admitted. "Changing faces can only get you so far. There are other ways to recognize someone, and we believe they've pinpointed me based on my Energy signature."

  "What do you mean?" the Pink Ranger interjected, her brows knitting together in concern. She leaned forward in her seat, the metallic sheen of her uniform catching the ambient light.

  "This delves into what we refer to as of Energy frontier," Dante expined, his tone grave. "It's an advanced technique—so cutting-edge that few can replicate or even comprehend it. However, we know that there are individuals capable of visualizing and identifying Energy patterns uniquely tied to each person."

  "But what good does it do them to identify your Energy if they don't know who it belongs to?" the Pink Ranger pressed.

  "Exactly," Dante nodded. "But once they can connect that Energy reading to a specific individual, any disguise becomes useless. I've attempted infiltration multiple times, and each time I've been denied. Our best hypothesis is that someone within their ranks has read my Energy and knows who I am, regardless of the face I wear."

  Oliver leaned back, absorbing this information. The implications were unsettling. He raised his hand again. "Doesn't that mean they already know we're trying to infiltrate them?"

  "For sure," Dante affirmed. "But they've likely anticipated from the beginning that the Emperor wouldn't leave them in peace. The real question is how effectively we can train you to ensure that at least one of you successfully embeds within their organization."

  Damian raised his hand, his expression serious. "In that case, if any of us have been seen in public, couldn't they already have a reading of our Energy?"

  "It's possible," Dante acknowledged, his gaze steady. "However, from what we know, it’s not a technique that can be used on anyone at any time. The chances of you having already been marked are low." He paused, his expression contemptive. "But you'll need to train in a technique that will prevent your Energy from being read in the future. Still, we're getting ahead of ourselves—for today, let's focus on the basics."

  As Dante continued expounding on surveilnce methods—how to recognize patterns, extract information, and the nuances of observation—Oliver found his mind drifting.

  ‘They know we're coming,’ Oliver mused, a chill coursing through him. ‘The Empire is aware that they're expecting us.’ The realization settled heavily. ‘They'll send us as sacrificial mbs to ensure at least one of us infiltrates the organization.’

  A deeper worry gnawed at him. ‘Does the Empire know they've already had contact with me?’ he wondered. ‘Have they already read my Energy signature?’ The possibility made his stomach twist. If his Energy had been recorded, any disguise might be futile.

  The remainder of the morning blurred as Dante delved into the intricacies of surveilnce theory. The sheer volume of information was staggering—techniques for tailing without being noticed, methods of setting up observation posts, and the art of blending into any environment. Oliver's head throbbed, not just from the overload but from the weight of his concerns.

  When the break was finally announced, Oliver rose from his seat, stretching his stiff muscles. He made his way to the central shaft of the Silo, gazing down into the seemingly endless descent. The thought of descending all those flights just to climb back up was daunting.

  ‘Is it worth it?’ he pondered. ‘I'll have to climb all this again... Do I even have the stamina?’

  Yet, he couldn't deny his body's need for sustenance. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that food was essential if he hoped to keep up with the grueling training demands. Spotting Darius already making his way down, Oliver decided not to linger. Taking a deep breath, he began his descent, carefully navigating the steps.

  Fortunately, the increased gravity only affected those ascending the stairs. While still taxing, going down was a relief compared to the arduous climb earlier. Oliver moved quickly, his footsteps echoing in the shaft as he leaped from step to step.

  Reaching the mess hall at the base of the Silo, he was winded but somewhat rejuvenated by the change in pace. The aroma of food was both comforting and invigorating. Despite his exhaustion, he maintained a composed demeanor, joining the line and grabbing a tray.

  He was already used to eating some strange slop from his time at the Academy. This time was no different—along with the other students, he received some kind of highly protein-rich gruel and began forcing it down his throat.

  Around him, he could hear several conversations happening at the same time. Many children and teenagers talked about what they had learned and who the best teachers were. But in the end, Oliver had no time to waste and sped up to finish his lunch.

  As soon as Oliver finished, he began to climb back to the first floor, step by arduous step.

  His muscles ached and protested with every movement, his legs feeling like lead as he pushed upward. Sweat trickled down his brow, but this time, a spark of excitement ignited within him. During his first climb, he hadn't paid attention to the effects of the exercise. Now, with his Status Page projected beside him, he could monitor his progress in real-time.

  | Status Page| User: Oliver [Nameless]| Level: 4 [Knight]| Experience: [316/800]| Credits: 10.810

  ‘Climbing it once earned me thirty experience points,’ Oliver mused, a hint of satisfaction in his thoughts. ‘That's almost the same as taking down a Grey Ork.’ The comparison invigorated him. ‘If I climb it three times a day, that's ninety experience points. Over six months... that's a massive amount of experience.’

  The prospect was thrilling. He knew it was just an estimate—after all, as the exercise became easier with repetition, the experience gains might diminish—but the potential was undeniable. ‘Still worth it,’ he thought. ‘Especially considering the minimal risk involved.’

  The renewed determination fueled his ascent. Despite the burning in his legs, back, and shoulders, he pressed on, each step bringing him closer to his goals. Over an hour ter, he reached the first floor again. His body screamed in protest, muscles quivering from the strain, but his spirit remained unbroken.

  As Oliver made his way to the new training room, he found only Darius waiting for him, standing alongside their instructor.

  ‘Finally, a moment to rest,’ Oliver thought, allowing himself a brief respite as he sank to the floor. The training room was starkly different from the cssrooms they'd used earlier. This chamber was entirely metallic—gleaming steel walls, floor, and ceiling formed a seamless, featureless box. There were no chairs, no tables, no consoles or dispys. The space felt both vast and confining, the ck of adornment stripping away any sense of comfort.

  It was disorienting. Without windows or timepieces, it was difficult to gauge their location within the fortress or how much time had passed.

  Minutes ter, the heavy doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss, and the other five Rangers filed into the room. They looked as fatigued as Oliver felt; their expressions carried curiosity and wariness as they took in their austere surroundings.

  Dante, who had been sitting cross-legged in one corner, rose smoothly to his feet.

  "Good to see you all made it," Dante said, his voice echoing slightly in the barren chamber. "I trust your time was spent productively."

  "In the next five hours, we'll divide your training into two parts," Dante announced, his voice echoing slightly in the expansive metal chamber.

  Dante stood at the center of the room, his posture rexed yet commanding. "First," he continued, "we will focus on infiltration and evasion techniques. The most basic of these is silent movement."

  To demonstrate, he took several steps forward. Remarkably, not a single sound emanated from his boots contacting the floor. It was as if he glided effortlessly, the usual cnk of footsteps entirely absent. The room, designed to amplify even the slightest noise by muting external sounds, remained eerily quiet. Any misstep would have been conspicuously loud in the echoing silence.

  A hand went up. It was the Yellow Ranger—Luna, a young woman with sharp eyes and a curious expression. "Sir, isn't moving silently just about being careful with your steps?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  Dante gnced at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Luna, correct?" She nodded in affirmation. "Walking carefully is part of it, yes, but true silent movement requires more than just caution. It's about producing zero noise—becoming a ghost in your enemy's midst."

  He tapped a series of commands into the holographic interface projected from his gauntlet. The room dimmed slightly as the training program initialized. "Now, it's your turn," Dante said, stepping back. "This chamber is equipped with auditory sensors calibrated to detect even the slightest sound. Whenever any of you make noise, a visual indicator will appear above you—a yellow card for minor sounds, red for anything louder."

  As soon as he finished speaking, the holographic indicators above each trainee blinked to life. Oliver gnced around at the others before pushing himself up from the floor. His muscles protested after the grueling climb up the Silo, but he steadied himself. Taking a deep breath, he pced his foot forward.

  The moment his boot touched the floor, a soft chime sounded, and a translucent yellow card appeared above his head, glowing faintly in the dim light. He grimaced—he hadn't even realized he'd made a sound.

  Across the room, Kyle attempted the exercise. He moved with exaggerated slowness, but the heavy thud of his boot heel echoed loudly. A louder chime resonated, and a gring red card materialized above him. Kyle scowled, clearly frustrated.

  The other Rangers took their turns, each striving for silence. Some managed a few steps before a yellow card signaled their missteps; others, like Kyle, found themselves immediately fgged with red cards. The room filled with soft chimes and the occasional muffled curse as the trainees realized how challenging true silence could be.

  Dante observed them with a discerning eye. "This is merely the act of walking," he noted. "Our training will encompass not only silent footsteps but also entering and exiting rooms undetected, maniputing door mechanisms without a whisper, and even running and leaping without a sound. These skills are vital for evading pursuers and infiltrating secure locations."

  He paused, allowing his words to sink in. The gravity of their task loomed rge; they weren't just learning to be soldiers but shadows.

  "Lastly," Dante continued, "the remainder of our training time will be dedicated to mastering your Energy control. This is crucial to prevent others from identifying you by your Energy signature."

  He gnced around the group, his gaze settling on each of them in turn. "You are all familiar with controlling the components of your Ranger Armors using Energy, correct?"

  There was a general murmur of assent, but Oliver hesitated. Slowly, he raised his hand. "Not yet."

  GCLopes