- Oliver -
The early days of the second examination were slow and grueling. None of the 60,000 recruits had managed to complete the mission.
With each new attempt ca fresh experiences and lessons learned, but also a mounting sense of anxiety. This was the ticket to becoming NEA officers and, for a select few, the chance to beco Rangers. Everything was at stake.
It wasn't until the third day that breaching the Grand House ceased to be an insurmountable hurdle.
"Yes! That's it!" one of the recruits exclaid outside the arena, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
By combining strategies, they finally discovered the communication tower's weak point near the house. With a few well-placed shots or the use of explosives, they brought it down, disabling the four combat robots that stood guard at the front of the house and creating an opportunity to slip inside unseen.
However, they quickly encountered a second obstacle. Navigating the house's interior without being detected or defeated by the black robots proved challenging. Typically, five of them were inside, with several more patrolling the grounds behind the house.
Occasionally, if a recruit was fortunate, the collapsing tower would land close enough to the house to draw the robots' attention, allowing safe passage through the lower floors. It was thanks to this stroke of luck that, on the seventh day, a recruit managed to obtain the Orb for the first ti.
She secured first place on the leaderboard with an astounding ti of 1 minute and 31 seconds.
‘Her Boon is perfect for this type of challenge,’ Oliver mused, rewatching the recording. The girl could beco invisible; she only needed to acquire a pistol and so explosives since her Ranger Weapon was a dagger.
After the first person claid a spot on the leaderboard, others began to follow in quick succession. One after another, they etched their nas onto the list. Yet, even so, only five hundred could secure a position.
In last place was soone who completed the mission in 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Even with one of the longest tis, simply finishing the test was still a significant achievent.
On the other hand, so experienced unexpected outcos from this trial.
"Ugh! Every freaking day, it just gets worse!" Isabela shouted, a few steps behind in the line leading into the arena.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder at her, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had witnessed the phenonon firsthand and couldn't help but find so humor in it. Every day, Isabela's follower count on InstaNET soared higher. She was now boasting over fifty million followers who eagerly tracked the exploits of "MissileGirl"—a number that rivaled even the most famous Rangers.
Despite what should have been a thrilling developnt, Isabela was far from pleased. Sure, the surge in popularity was a boon for her career, but she despised the nickna. "MissileGirl" felt like a mocking jab rather than a comndation. To her, it seed as though people were ridiculing her strategy, reducing her carefully planned tactics to a reckless stunt, even though many admired its ingenuity.
"Look at this," she grumbled, thrusting her hologram toward Oliver. A barrage of ssages, s, and clips flooded the screen, all featuring her latest run in the arena. "They're turning into a joke."
Oliver offered a sympathetic glance before returning his gaze forward. "They're just excited. You did sothing impressive, and people noticed."
She sighed heavily. "Impressive would be being called 'The Strategist' or 'Aerial Ace' or sothing. 'MissileGirl' makes sound like so kind of daredevil."
Oliver shrugged lightly. "Sotis nicknas stick whether we like them or not. Maybe you can use it to your advantage."
Isabela frowned but didn't reply, her eyes scanning the endless feed of notifications with a mix of frustration and resignation.
Trying to refocus, Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tuning out the buzz of conversations around him. He ntally mapped out the arena, visualizing the positions of each target and plotting the sequence of shots he would need to execute. He aid to internalize every movent until it beca instinctual, minimizing the need for conscious thought during the actual trial.
A soft chi disrupted his concentration. His gauntlet flashed with a new alert. ‘Another one on the leaderboard,’ he thought as he opened his eyes.
Hovering above the center of the corridor, a large holographic screen flickered to life, displaying the latest update from the arena. The live feed showed the final monts as a recruit dashed through the simulated forest, the tir counting down in the corner.
| Leaderboard Update
| #7 — Kyle Astor
| Ti: 01:45
"That's how it's done!" An exuberant shout erupted from the front of the line. Oliver watched as a cluster of recruits gathered around Kyle Astor, basking in his achievent's glow.
Footsteps approached rapidly from behind. Oliver turned his head just as Kyle strutted past, his expression oozing confidence. For a brief mont, their eyes t—Kyle's filled with a smug triumph, Oliver's steady and undisturbed.
"Watch and learn," Kyle sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.
Oliver held his gaze but chose not to respond. It was a weak taunt, hardly worth acknowledging. Instead, he felt a quiet resolve settle within him. If anything, Kyle's arrogance only reinforced his determination to stay focused.
A few more minutes ticked by, each second stretching into an eternity, until finally, it was Oliver's turn.
"This ti. It's going to work," he whispered to himself, determination steeling his nerves.
Oliver selected the most distant entrance to the arena as his strategy demanded. The massive steel doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the sprawling, simulated landscape beyond.
The instant his foot touched the arena floor, Oliver sprang into action. He moved swiftly, half-crouched as he darted toward the weakest section of the periter wall.
Glancing upward, he spotted the holographic tir projected onto the arena's dod ceiling.
| 00:11
‘Running ahead of schedule,’ he thought with a flicker of satisfaction.
Reaching the wall, he vaulted over it with practiced ease. The sentinel robots hadn't reached this sector yet—just as he'd calculated. He spared no concern for them; they were still several seconds away from intersecting his path.
Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint toward the orchard.
Arriving earlier than usual, he encountered the sa sentinel robot stationed at the staircase he needed to access. This ti, he wouldn't wait for it to pass. Drawing his Energy Pistol smoothly, he took aim and fired two precise shots. The energy bolts struck the robot dead center in its optical sensor array—the forehead—sending sparks flying as circuits overloaded.
As the robot began to topple, Oliver lunged forward. Sliding on one knee through the soft earth, he caught the heavy tal carcass before it could crash to the ground and raise the alarm.
| 00:20
"Excellent timing," Oliver noted, glancing at the tir.
He leaped onto the staircase and ascended rapidly, his boots barely whispering against the steps. At the top, he reached the roof of the second floor—a vantage point he'd scouted during previous attempts. He knew exactly where he needed to shoot.
Without wasting a mont, he aid his pistol toward the barn across the compound. He fired a single, well-placed shot. The energy bolt streaked through the air and struck a stack of hay bales inside the barn. Flas erupted instantly, billowing smoke that coiled into the sky.
"One, two, three," Oliver counted under his breath.
At that precise mont, he adjusted his aim and fired at the exposed generator beside the barn. The shot hit its mark, and the generator exploded in a shower of sparks and twisted tal. The blast took out several nearby robots, their chassis torn apart by the force.
‘They'll be busy with that for a while,’ he thought, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
The orchestrated chaos would divert attention away from his true objective. With the robots occupied, the likelihood of soone discovering the disabled robot in the orchard was almost zero. It also provided a window to move undetected toward the Grand House.
"Now, to deal with the combat robots," he murmured.
His gaze fixed on the towering communication tower adjacent to the house. Bringing it down would neutralize the four combat robots guarding the main entrance. Setting explosives would be too ti-consuming. Instead, he'd rely on precision marksmanship.
Taking a deep breath, Oliver steadied himself. He targeted the rusted support leg at the tower's base—a structural weakness the other recruits discovered. Squeezing the trigger, he unleashed four rapid shots. The Energy Pistol humd with each discharge, and the bolts slamd into the corroded tal.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a groan echoed across the compound as the steel support gave way. The tower began to tilt, slowly at first, then with gathering montum. It crashed beside the Grand House with a deafening clang, crushing two combat robots and scattering debris.
Without waiting to assess the full impact, Oliver moved. He vaulted off the second-floor roof, landing in a roll that absorbed the shock. Springing to his feet, he sprinted toward the side entrance of the Grand House.
Giving glance at the sky before entering.
| 00:55
‘Good. Still on track,’ he thought. But now, he'd need a bit of luck.
As he slipped through the side door, he repeated silently, ‘Lucky luck luck.’
Inside, the Grand House was eerily quiet. He scanned his surroundings. There was no sign of the black robots—the elite units. Either they were drawn to the fallen tower, or they were on another floor.
‘Please be at the tower,’ Oliver willed silently.
Moving cautiously, he approached the central staircase. Just as he was about to ascend, a flicker of movent caught his eye. Peering upward, Oliver glimpsed the tal legs of a black robot descending the stairs, its sensors likely probing for intruders.
His heart skipped a beat. ‘No ti for panic,’ he told himself.
Pivoting smoothly, he slipped into a nearby room if the floor plan in his mory was accurate. It was directly beneath the chamber where the Orb was kept.
‘What do I do? Think!’ his mind raced. ‘Improvise!’
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