SONS OF WARS - DISTRICT III - DREAM CITY
Sakarah's breath came heavy, her chest rising and falling beneath the standard recruit gear as the door labeled WAIT ROOM slid open with a hiss. Fluorescent lights buzzed above, illuminating a hall filled with fresh-faced recruits. They clustered in groups—friends, rivals, or just temporary alliances waiting to be tested.
The atmosphere thrummed with nervous energy. Some laughed to hide the tension. Others stretched, already preparing for battle. Sakarah walked in alone.
A soft chime echoed through the chamber.
Then, above them, a hologram flickered to life. The AI known as Feline appeared—a sleek digital avatar with feline contours and sharp, synthetic grace.
"Welcome, recruits." Her voice was calm and precise, neither cold nor warm. "You have been chosen to undergo the War Games."
Murmurs fell into silence.
"This trial will assess your instincts, discipline, and teamwork. Those who pass will be placed under active Retributors as interns, learning on the field immediately."
Cheers erupted.
Above their heads, a parade of images began to flash—veteran warriors in action. Some grizzled and brutal, others sleek and elite. Among them: Midas—a name that brought both awe and anxiety—and John.
Sakarah's eyes locked on the image of John. She didn't blink. Her expression hardened as if trying to remember something distant… or erase it entirely.
Feline continued. "This will be a two-day mission—forty-eight hours—set inside Bineth's newest battlefield simulation: the BIFIELD."
The recruits gasped in awe as a projection of the chamber appeared: a sleek, high-tech dome, three football fields long, layered with terrain, corridors, traps, and artificial ecosystems.
"It is our most advanced training chamber to date. It simulates visual and sensory stimuli at 85% accuracy. Expect pain. Expect pressure. You will feel every hit."
A quiet unease rippled through the crowd.
"Your suits will be upgraded to BIFIED combat mode. Impacts will register at 75% capacity. Bineth powers will remain locked—except when authorized by Control."
The mood shifted. Faces tightened. Grumbles emerged.
That wasn't what they'd hoped for.
"You will be placed in teams of three to five. Randomized weapons. Zero-hit bullets. You may trade weapons with others to match your strategy."
A hum passed through the suits as they began to change—white at first, then shifting to personalized colors. Sakarah's turned purple and white. Sleek. Light. Not bad.
Then the weapons appeared on her back—sniper-class. Long-range. Not her favorite.
She frowned.
A beep rang in her ears. Two faces appeared on her HUD—Jimbo and Goro.
Her team.
She recognized them instantly. The two from the bathroom incident.
Their voices came up behind her.
"Well, well," Jimbo sneered. "Look who we've got."
Before he could finish the grin, Sakarah spun around and punched him square in the face. Jimbo crumpled backward, groaning. She followed with a rising kick, aimed at his ribs—but it halted mid-air as Goro dropped to his knees.
"Please—don't!" he shouted. "We came to apologize!"
The room went dead silent. All eyes turned to them.
Sakarah's leg hovered in the air. Her jaw clenched.
Then she dropped it.
Jimbo lay groaning as Goro helped him to his feet, still trembling.
"We were wrong - what we said earlier," Goro said, voice shaking. "We're sorry. For real."
Sakarah stared at him for a moment, then reached behind and ripped her sniper disc from her back.
"We will need a sniper, Judging from your suit design, I can tell that's your go-to,"
"Does that mean we are good?"
They exchanged weapon discs.
She turned without a word.
But just before she walked away, she muttered coolly, "We're good."
Observation Deck – Retributor Level
From behind the reinforced glass of the control room, the experienced ones watched.
Cox stood at the center, arms folded, eyes sharp.
"John. You made it," she said without turning. "Thought I'd have to send in a squad."
John stood beside her, silent, watching the girl in purple and white.
"She's serious," he murmured.
"She always is," Cox replied.
Midas chuckled from a chair nearby. "Reminds me of a certain boss I work with! Want to bet she'll break two more before sundown?"
Cox didn't smile.
"I already did. She's going to be a killjoy for the boys, we might just be looking at our first Solo winner since that guy over there." Cox turned to John.
John said nothing. His gaze never left Sakarah.
Something tugged at him. A question.
Did she know?