The roar of the arena had faded into a low, ambient hum as the "preparation" phase for Stage 2 began. The bright stadium lights were dimmed to a soft, clinical blue, casting long shadows across the dirt floor where the chaos of the Capture the Flag match had just unfolded.
In the lounge area, the air was thick with tension and the smell of high-grade nutrient bars. Giant holographic screens displayed rolling advertisements for Titan-grade hydraulic fluid and ESDF recruitment posters, but the real show was the live commentary. The pundits were obsessed. Jake's 34% synchronization was being hailed as a once-in-a-generation event.
Xavier sat in a far corner, hunched over a water pouch. He felt the eyes of the other cadets on him—no longer just mocking, but confused. Suspicious. He could feel Asher's gaze from across the room, a physical heat that threatened to ignite the air.
He didn't care. He was looking inward.
The thirty days of hell—the 100 push-ups, the 5km sprints, the endless pull-ups—had fundamentally rewired him. His body felt dense, his movements fueled by a Strength of 70 and a Speed of 80. His Vision, now at a 15, allowed him to see the minute tremors in the hands of the "prodigies" around him. They were terrified of the next stage.
"Stage 2: Resolve. Commencing in T-minus ten minutes."
The cadets were led back to the center of the arena. This time, there were no Exo-suits. Instead, fifty ergonomic chairs were arranged in a circle, each equipped with a sleek, chrome VR headset.
"This is not a game of physical prowess," the announcer's voice echoed, devoid of its earlier excitement. It was cold now. "The Resolve Stage simulates tactical nightmares. It uses a directed mana-pulse to tap into your subconscious, testing your ability to maintain focus under extreme psychological pressure. If your mind breaks, your body follows."
Xavier took his seat. He pulled the headset down.
Darkness.
Then, a surge. It felt like a cold needle sliding into his temple. The System's violet light flickered briefly, fighting the intrusion, but Xavier leaned into it.
The scenario began. He was back in the apartment. It was burning. He saw his mother, but she wasn't just dead—she was a shadow, whispering his failures. "You're a Zero, Xavier. You brought us here to die." The mana-pulse hammered at his brain, trying to spike his heart rate, trying to force a panic attack that would register as a "failure" on the external monitors.
Across the arena, the effects were visible. Some cadets began to thrash in their chairs, their monitors flatlining into a crimson 'FAIL' as they were hauled away by medics. Noelle, the 23% girl from Team 1, let out a heart-wrenching sob before her headset turned off. She had broken.
Asher sat rigid, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. He passed, but his vitals were in the red. Maya's monitor flickered—the shame of her defeat in Stage 1 was being used against her—but she gritted her teeth and pushed through. Jake and Kiko were the outliers; their lines remained unnervingly flat. They were stones.
Xavier felt the pressure mounting. The fire in the vision grew hotter. The insults louder. But he remembered the thirty days of grinding when nobody was watching. He remembered the feeling of 2.0% becoming 4.0%.
He didn't fight the nightmare. He walked through it.
"You're not real," he whispered in the simulation.
The world shattered like glass.
Xavier woke up in his chair, gasping for air. His vision was blurry, but the green 'PASS' on his HUD was unmistakable. He was one of the few who hadn't screamed.
The cadets were dismissed shortly after. The atmosphere was somber; the "Resolve" stage had stripped away the bravado of the afternoon. They were led to the dormitory wing of the facility—sleek, minimalist rooms designed for recovery.
Xavier closed his door and locked it. The silence was a relief.
"System," he whispered. "Show me everything."
The violet screen flickered to life. He had been hoarding his rewards from the Stage 1 victory.
[CURRENT STAT POINTS: 50]
[SHOP POINTS: 20]
"Put all 50 points into Mana Output," he commanded.
The sensation was more violent than before. It wasn't just warmth; it was a localized earthquake inside his sternum. He collapsed onto the small bed, clutching his chest as his mana channels expanded to accommodate the new flow. He felt his "MP" pool deepen, a reservoir of energy finally beginning to fill.
[MANA OUTPUT UPDATED: 4.0%]
"Still a long way to go," he wheezed, wiping sweat from his brow. "But 4% is double what I started with."
Next, he opened the System Shop. The 20 Shop Points were burning a hole in his digital pocket. He browsed the flickering icons until he found what he needed.
[PURCHASED: INTEL PACKAGE (BASIC) - 10 SP]
[PURCHASED: COMBAT SCROLL (FOUNDATION FORM) - 10 SP]
A digital scroll appeared in his inventory. He tapped it, and a flood of information regarding footwork, weight distribution, and mana-flicker strikes imprinted itself into his brain. It was the missing piece to his raw stats—the "how" to use his "what."
"One more thing," Xavier said, looking at the violet screen. "System, can anyone else see you? The Commanders? The scanners? If they see a purple menu when everyone else has orange, I'm dead."
The System responded instantly, the text scrolling across his vision.
[RESPONSE: NEGATIVE. THE 'PLAYER SYSTEM' OPERATES ON A FREQUENCY INVISIBLE TO STANDARD MANA-SCANNING TECHNOLOGY. TO EXTERNAL OBSERVERS AND GOVERNMENT INTERFACES, YOUR MENU APPEARS AS A STANDARD, UNMODIFIED ESDF STATUS WINDOW.]
Xavier exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He wasn't just a player; he was a ghost in their system.
He lay back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Tomorrow was the third and final stage: Combat. Pure, unadulterated skill. No flags to capture. No mental illusions. Just two cadets in a ring until one couldn't get up.
He closed his eyes, his 15 Vision allowing him to see the faint outlines of the mana moving in the walls of the room. He felt the 4.0% humming in his blood
"Tomorrow," Xavier muttered as sleep finally claimed him, "they're going to find out that Zero is just a starting point."