Flint, Vera, and 433 stood motionless in front of James and the Boss, their faces a mix of determination and exhaustion. The room seemed to grow colder with the weight of the moment, the silence so heavy it felt like the air itself was holding its breath.
The Boss’s voice cut through the tension like a blade, stern and commanding, “You three are the chosen Awakened who will represent the United States of America. The Europeans, Africans, Asians, South Americans, and Australians are your enemies. Do not forget that. Ever.”
His eyes bore into each of them as if to make sure the gravity of his words settled deep into their minds. He paused, allowing the significance of their roles to sink in, then continued, “Currently, the Asians have the largest force of soldiers as well as Awakened; they are followed by the Europeans, Australians, Africans, and finally the South Americans, in that order.”
Flint's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of their enemies; his jaw clenched in determination. Vera remained stone-faced, her eyes sharp and unwavering, already calculating her next move. 433 stood quietly, his expression unreadable as he absorbed the information, processing what it meant for the battles to come. They were no longer fighting against each other; now, they were to face a world united against them.
James cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Flint, Vera, and 433. His eyes were steady as he spoke, his tone grim but unwavering, “The continents that stand against us are the Europeans, Asians, and Africans. The neutral continents are Australia and South America. This means we do not have allies. You three are the only Awakened who will stand against the combined force of these three continents.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle into their minds. Flint's confident demeanor didn't waver, but a flicker of seriousness crossed his eyes. Vera’s expression hardened, her posture straight and unyielding. 433 remained as stoic as ever, his gaze locked on James.
James continued, “The specifics of your mission are clear: either hold off or eliminate the Awakened of these opposing continents. You must disrupt their forces so that we can gain the upper hand through sheer power despite being outnumbered. This is not a fight for survival—it’s a fight to dominate, to prove that our strength can surpass their numbers.”
The Boss's cold, calculating gaze swept over the three of them, his silence reminding them of the immense burden they carried. This wasn't just a battle for their own lives; it was a war for their nation's dominance. They were no longer trainees—they were weapons, sharpened and aimed at the heart of their enemies.
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“That is all for today. Eat and then rest,” James shooed them away.
The walls of the building felt more suffocating than usual as the three comrades walked toward the cafeteria. They arrived, got food, and ate in silence. Then, they all separated into their rooms.
433 could barely hold himself together. The moment he got into his room, he started tearing at his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. “What have I done?! I—I killed several people… I can’t… I can’t, I can't, I can't.” His thoughts spiraled back to the tournament, replaying every moment until his mind fixated on the horrific instant he had killed Shift. The vivid memory of crushing Shift’s skull with the underside of his boot haunted him. “I’m gonna be sick.”
Gagging, he ran toward the bathroom, collapsing over the toilet as he expelled the contents of his stomach. His breaths came in ragged gasps, gripping the sides of the bowl so hard that his knuckles turned white. The images in his head—the lifeless eyes, the sickening crunch of bone—played on a loop, relentless in their torment.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his trembling hand, the bitter taste of bile lingering. His body shook, not from exhaustion but from raw, uncontrollable emotion clawing at his insides. “What have I become?” he whispered hoarsely to the empty room, his voice barely audible over his ragged breathing.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, 433 didn’t recognize himself. His face was pale, eyes hollow, and it felt as if blood from allies stained his skin, even though it wasn’t there. He splashed cold water onto his face, hoping the icy shock might numb the pain he felt inside.
“No, no, no,” he muttered, clutching at his temples. He slammed his fist against the sink, cracking the porcelain slightly; the pain grounded him in reality, if only for a second.
His legs finally gave way, and he sank to the floor, back against the wall. Breaths shallow and uneven, he wrapped his arms around his knees, drawing them to his chest. For the first time in a long while, 433 let himself break. Silent sobs shook his frame as he buried his face in his arms, consumed by emptiness and disgust at what he was.
***
Flint succumbed to sleep almost immediately, the weight of the day’s events seemingly brushing off him like water off a duck’s back. He was lost to the world, unbothered and undisturbed by the chaos that had unfolded.
Vera, on the other hand, lingered by the mirror, studying her reflection intently. The harsh light illuminated the determination etched across her features, reminding her of the path she had chosen. This was her role in this world, a destiny she had embraced fully. With a resolute sigh, she turned away from the mirror and slipped into bed, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead.
***
James and The Boss sat in the building's main office, the atmosphere thick with tension and anticipation.
“So, what’s your take on our three Awakened?” James asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.
The Boss stroked his chin thoughtfully before responding. “I’m satisfied with Flint and Vera; they’ve both performed exceptionally well. However, that boy, 433, still hasn’t exhibited any unique abilities aside from his above-average physical prowess.”
James considered this for a moment, then replied, “That’s true, but he managed to defeat both Shift and Mira, who we expected to outclass him easily. We should give him credit where it’s due. The boy demonstrates intelligence and capability, even if his abilities remain unknown.”
The Boss nodded slowly, acknowledging James's perspective. “I see your point. Perhaps we need to keep a closer watch on him. There might be more to 433 than meets the eye.”
