Kruger

2 months later 

Rain tapped against the glass above like skeletal fingers, soft and endless. The dome held its silence, broken only by the faint hum of systems and the distant cough of stormwind along the ridges.

Kaiell stood in formation beside the others. Twenty-three had started. Twelve remained.

Now, four were being called.

Their names echoed across the dome, spoken through the internal comms with Solra's clinical cadence. No ceremony. No farewells.

They stepped forward. Saluted. Then left without a word.

Live field deployment. No warning. No prep.

Kaiell's fingers twitched at his sides.

He didn't move.

He hadn't been called.

Why not me?

He'd fought in the Riftstorm. Killed a Voidling captain with his lungs half-crushed and bones screaming. He had Ibex readings higher than any of them. His neural sync crossed seventy-three percent last cycle.

So why did they get sent?

He watched the last one vanish through the access lift. Their suits were heavier now—matte-armor designed for off-world ops. Real war.

His chest tightened.

Am I being sidelined? Did I fail something and they didn't tell me?

A shadow fell across his vision.

Solra.

She didn't look at him. She simply gestured, then turned, expecting him to follow.

Solra's Office – Level Three

The room had no warmth. Just a ceiling of glass and a floor of cold alloy. Rain etched rivers down the windows, refracting the lights of Suela's towers outside.

Kaiell stood still, jaw set tight, but inside—

Tell me why. Don't dance around it. Just say it.

Solra was already scrolling through panels. One rotated to show the full overlay of his biometrics: heart rate, strain markers, nerve charge density, and—prominently—his Viora genome tag.

vX5. Red. Rare. Locked.

"You were wondering why you weren't called," she said, reading him like a console log.

He nodded once.

"Because you're not meant for surface deployments," she said. "Those were meant to fight. You are meant to transform."

She turned the display. Zoomed into his DNA.

"Your genome contains something we don't usually see. A dormant Nai variation. vX5."

Kaiell blinked. "I already know that."

"No, you don't," she said. "Not what it means."

The air felt colder then.

"vX5 appears in one out of every million people. We don't know the trigger—environment, strain, bloodlines—it doesn't matter. What matters is that when it appears, and when it's awakened…"

She rotated another display. It showed a simulation—muscle regrowth. Neural regeneration. Surge capacity under near-death stress.

"…you become compatible with the Black Threshold program. You become adaptable beyond design. Not just a weapon. A variable."

Kaiell didn't breathe for a moment.

So all this time, it wasn't just about surviving Rust-12. Not just about passing the exam. I was born into this without even knowing.

Solra stepped closer. Her expression unreadable, but focused.

"You'll stay here. Continue training. We're prepping your body for something deeper. You're going to Sector Twelve once you're ready."

Kaiell's thoughts spiraled.

Sector Twelve. The name had only come up once—back in a med lab whisper between two Kruger officers. No one posted there ever returned. Not because they died.

But because they changed.

"And the others?" he asked, quietly.

"Most will die," she said. Not cruelly. Not softly. Just fact. "A few might live. One or two might earn a second phase. But none of them will reach where you're going."

She moved to the console again. The lights dimmed.

"There's a saying from old Kruger doctrine. Before the Union. Before the Viora networks."

She looked at him then.

"The ones who do not shatter in silence… are the ones the Void fears."

The words rang in his chest, like steel behind ribs.

He left the office slower than usual. The hall was empty now. Only the echo of rain and the distant hum of the biospheres.

He looked at the interface on his arm.

[Ibex Cells: 38 Active][Sync Integrity: 75%][VX5 Response Curve: Dormant → Stirring]

Kaiell closed his eyes, and for the first time in weeks…

…he felt like the future wasn't waiting to kill him.

It was waiting to meet him.