The small room's door opened again with a metallic creak. Keith rose slowly from the thin mat, muscles stiff, joints screaming. Rain followed immediately behind, her rainbow hair brushing against the dim lamp above. Neither spoke.
Outside, the courtyard stretched wider than before. Buyers and managers moved among cages and cages of captives, their voices low and precise. Keith noticed the sharp contrast: some captives huddled, trembling; others stared forward blankly, resigned. He clenched his fists. Not him. Not Rain.
The scarred assessor from before stepped forward. "This way. First inspection starts now. Keep moving."
Keith followed, cautious, his eyes scanning the small crowd. From the corner of his vision, he saw a few familiar faces—other captives from their transport. None looked happy, none looked safe. One boy, thin and pale, muttered under his breath:
"They pick fast. Mistakes are punished."
Keith kept his ears open but didn't answer. Observation first. Survival first.
At the center of the courtyard, a raised platform awaited. Buyers were already stationed there—a tall man with a long coat, a woman with piercing eyes, and a thin man whose fingers twitched constantly. Their gazes swept across the crowd of captives like predators circling prey.
"You," the coat man said suddenly, pointing at Keith. "Step forward."
Keith froze for a fraction, then stepped, careful to keep his posture relaxed but alert. Rain stepped next to him. He could feel her steady presence at his side—calm, calculated, not showing fear.
"Name?" the woman asked.
Keith's mind raced. "Keith," he said finally, cautious. Not his original name—just the one he had been forced to answer with before.
"Paired with her?" the thin man asked, indicating Rain.
"Yes," Keith answered softly.
The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "Hmm… very composed. Both of you appear to endure transport well. Let's test endurance further."
Rain's gaze met Keith's for a moment. No words, just silent understanding. They both knew this was only the beginning.
The scarred assessor gestured to the cage doors. "You'll face the trial in sequence. Watch carefully. Learn the rules before acting."
Keith nodded. He could feel the tension in Rain's shoulders. The first trial was as much about observation as it was about survival.
A buyer stepped forward, holding a small rod. Not a weapon—but enough to prod, test, measure reactions. "Step forward," he said to Keith.
Keith's heart raced. He moved slowly, deliberately, letting his body display calm without giving away fear. He watched the rod, the subtle twitch in the buyer's fingers, the faint stance of readiness. Every small detail was a clue.
"Reaction time acceptable," the tall man murmured. "Strength baseline: low. Coordination: average. Mental endurance: above baseline."
Keith blinked. Above baseline? He hadn't realized his focus was that sharp, even in exhaustion.
Next, Rain stepped forward for her trial. The woman buyer circled her slowly, hands behind her back. "Observation: calm. Reaction: measured. Endurance: acceptable. Mental calculation: promising."
Keith watched closely, impressed. Rain was always careful, but now he noticed just how precise she could be, even under stress.
The assessments concluded with the buyers murmuring among themselves. The scarred man approached Keith and Rain. "Housing for the next phase will be assigned. Pay attention. Mistakes are costly."
Keith and Rain were escorted back to a slightly larger cell—two mats, a small table, and a single lamp. Exhaustion hit him fully now. He sank onto the mat with a groan.
Rain settled across from him. "First trial done," she said quietly. "We survived. Barely."
Keith exhaled, letting the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly. "Barely," he agreed. "But we learned a few things. Buyers, assessors, timing… movement. Observation counts more than endurance."
Rain tilted her head, studying him. "You've got a sharp mind. I can see why they paired us."
Keith's cheeks warmed slightly, but he didn't reply. Not yet.
From the far corner, a thin boy watched them carefully from a cage. He looked familiar—one of the voices from before. His eyes flicked to Keith, then Rain, then back to the ground. A subtle nod. No words. But the warning remained: trust no one here.
Hours passed in silence. Occasionally, the distant bell rang, signaling another group of captives being led in, another inspection about to start. Keith kept his senses alert, even as exhaustion weighed heavily on him.
Rain's voice finally broke the quiet. "We need a plan for tomorrow. Observation, endurance… and maybe ways to make their assessment work in our favor."
Keith's eyes met hers. "Agreed. But first, rest. We can't strategize if we collapse."
Rain nodded, settling back onto the mat. Her rainbow hair fanned across the floor, catching the dim lamp light in shifting colors. It reminded Keith—she was not just skilled, but careful, precise, and more than capable of surviving here.
Outside, the faint echoes of chains, steps, and distant voices continued. Grayshade Crossing had layers, and this first trial was just the beginning. Keith and Rain were weak, low on synr, and barely understood the rules—but together, they had a chance to survive.
And as the shadows lengthened across the room, Keith realized: whatever this place intended to make of them—
It hadn't succeeded yet.