The instructor’s voice bood across the clearing with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball through glass.
I groggily blinked away the tiredness, feeling the weak warmth of the rising sun brushing against my face.
Around , boys and girls stumbled awkwardly out of their tents, forming into surprisingly neat lines despite looking like they’d just been ejected from peaceful dreams.
Okay, I noticed this before, but this feels way too intense for a training camp about unlocking personal stats. This feels… organized. Too organized.
Pushing the thought aside, I stood up and fell in line, sliding in next to Thea.
She glanced at sideways, trying, and failing, not to roll her eyes. “Did you seriously sleep out here?”
“Quieter than the tent,” I replied, stretching my arms over my head. “And not much less uncomfortable. No wonder they stuff hay into the beds. It’s like they expect a herd of cows to bunk down in there.”
Thea snorted softly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Fair point.”
Before I could follow up with another quip, the big man in charge barked out again.
“Follow . Do not fall behind!” With that, he turned and jogged into the nearby woods.
The collective groan of every sleep-deprived recruit echoed behind him as we started moving.
I glanced at Thea as twigs snapped under our boots and branches scratched at my arms. “This feels a little… over the top, doesn’t it? The tents, the strict rules, the shouting. Are we training for sothing?”
She gave one of those looks. The kind that scread, ‘Are you being serious right now?’
“You—” she started, then hesitated. “Where are you from?”
The question caught so off guard that I nearly tripped over a tree root.
“Where?” I repeated, blinking at her.
“Yeah. Where?”
My brain scrambled for an answer. Sothing believable, sothing clever, sothing that wouldn’t make look like an absolute fool, but my mouth had other plans. “No idea.”
Thea stumbled slightly this ti, her stormy gray eyes wide as she shot a look. Honestly, it gave a chance to slow down, which was a win in my book because running is the worst.
“What do you an no idea?” she asked, her voice low but sharp.
I shrugged, trying to look casual while also gasping for air. “Did the language change just because I slept outside? I an no idea. No idea where here is, no idea where I ca from, no idea about… well, anything before yesterday.”
Thea’s eyebrows knitted together, and for a mont, I thought she might press further, but instead, she let out a sharp breath, muttering sothing under her breath that I was pretty sure wasn’t a complint.
We kept jogging, the instructor’s voice barking commands ahead of us, and the line of recruits slowly stretched and curved along the dirt path.
I could feel Thea glancing at occasionally, her curiosity practically radiating off her.
How long have we been running? I’m pretty sure I’ve aged five years.
Honestly, who would ever think this is a good idea?
Thea glanced at , her stormy gray eyes narrowing slightly. Was that… worry? Or was it sha? “Are you using your inner strength?”
“Oh! Oh right! Thanks, I forgot.”
Now there was no mistaking it. She was definitely looking at with worry, but not the kind of gentle, nurturing worry. No, this was the ‘Oh no, he’s hopeless’ kind of worry.
But seriously, could I be blad? Cultivation was just a fantasy word in my vocabulary until yesterday. I barely rembered I wasn’t at ho when I woke up this morning.If it weren’t for the instructor’s magnificently loud horn skills, I probably would have rushed off to pack my backpack and head to school.
Thanks to Thea’s gracious reminder, of which I made a ntal note to suck up more to her later, I managed to focus and let my inner energy trickle into my legs, easing the burning sensation sowhat.
Okay, okay. This is better, only slightly, but sothing.
I looked to Thea with a question. “So…considering my total absence of knowledge—”
Thea cut off under her breath, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Which I believe to be literally true.”
I chose to ignore that, as the mature one in this dynamic. “What exactly are we doing?”
“Training,” she said flatly.
I blinked. “Uh-huh… and training for what, exactly?”
“After three years here, we’re off to battle.”
I froze mid-step. My foot caught on a root, and I nearly beca one with the forest floor.
Thea grabbed my arm, yanking forward before I could beco a Peter-shaped pancake on the trail. “Battle? You can’t be serious.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept jogging, her expression unreadable.
“For who? For what?” I pressed.
Here’s the thing, it’s really hard to feel patriotic for a country, or state, or empire, or whatever this place is, when I know literally nothing about it.
Thea sighed, finally giving a sideways glance. “It’s… complicated. Look, not everyone here gets drafted into fighting. So people stay back, so take non-combat roles. But if you’re here, if you’re training like this, then you’re probably being prepared for the front lines.”
The front lines.
Oh, that’s great. That’s just fantastic.
#
After a forever that felt as if the laws of ti were rewritten, I stumbled forward, barely lifting my feet off the forest floor.
“Thea… it’s over. I can’t go on,” I wheezed, clutching my chest dramatically. “Go on without . Tell my story. Make sure they know I was… moderately brave.”
Thea gave a look that was sowhere between disbelief and pity.
“It’s barely been over an hour, Peter. Relax, focus, and keep moving. We’re probably almost done anyway.” Her confidence felt like an insult.
But then, like the voice of an angel descending from above. Rather, a very loud, very cranky angel, the instructor’s shout cut through the trees: “HALT!”
Oh, sweet rciful relief. I imdiately complied, bending over with my hands on my knees and gasping like a fish flopping on land.
“Peter?” Thea said, her voice cautious.
I raised a shaky hand. “One sec. Dying. Busy.”
I sucked in a final gulp of air and glanced at her. “Thea?”
“What now?” she sighed, already bracing herself.
“Food?”
“What?” she asked, blinking in confusion.
“When… do we eat? I’m starving.”
“How should I know? Everyone’s first day was yesterday!”
I muttered sothing about survival rates and my odds of becoming forest mulch when the instructor’s voice rose again.
“You will now get your food!”
For a brief, fleeting mont, I almost forgave him for the ti of forced jogging. Almost.
Until he kept talking.
“This forest has plenty of edible plants and animals. A tank’s job is more than just protection on the battlefield. We protect the squad at all tis. You will work alone, in groups, or together to hunt and forage.”
I blinked. Did he say hunt? Like with weapons? In a forest we just ran through while I prayed for an early death?
Around , a few recruits were nodding, already shifting their stances, reluctant but full of expectation.
Of course they knew. Why wouldn’t they? Only I was blissfully incompetent.
Unfortunately, the instructor wasn’t done.
“Based on what I see today, you can either keep going on your own or get assigned to survival training with . It’ll be your choice. Then you’ll try again tomorrow. And the day after. And every day after that, until each of you can feed yourselves.”
I stared blankly at him.
“Monster,” I whispered under my breath.
I turned to Thea for guidance, wisdom, or maybe even comfort. Instead, I found her frozen in place, staring at the trees like they were filled with ghosts.
“Thea?” I prompted.
“Yeah?” she replied, her voice a little shaky.
“You don’t happen to know… anything about hunting or edible plants, do you?”
Her head turned toward , her expression one of pure dread.
“Do you?” she asked weakly.
“No.”
She let out a long, defeated sigh and dropped to her knees, as though she could absorb energy directly from the forest floor if she stayed there long enough.
“Maybe soone else will help us?” I suggested hopefully.
We both turned to look at the other recruits.
Everyone was already splitting into groups. Groups that, judging by their smooth coordination, had clearly been ford yesterday.
Each team moved purposefully into the forest, small weapons and makeshift tools in hand, like they actually knew what they were doing.
We were officially alone.
I slowly turned back to Thea, dread creeping up my spine.
“We’re gonna starve,” I said flatly.
“Yep,” she muttered.
We sat there in silence for a mont, the sounds of distant chatter and crunching leaves filtering through the trees.
“So… berries, maybe?” I ventured.
She glared at . “Don’t. Eat. Anything. Unless you know what it is.”
“Noted.”
We remained kneeling there, two clueless recruits with no plan, no knowledge of survival, and approximately zero confidence in our ability to not die in the next 24 hours.
Well, at least I won’t die alone.
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