After Hector was given a weapon, he was suddenly transported to another district. It was still within the same apocalyptic region, but now he was relocated somewhere else—somewhere none of the others would know.
"Mikeal Park, may you please come forward?" Lt. Ashley Grey called Mikeal up next.
Mikeal already had a good idea of what was going on. While the others were still trying to figure out where Hector had gone, Mikeal understood perfectly. And now that it was his turn, he knew there was a high chance he too would be sent somewhere completely different.
Lt. Ashley Grey was busy examining Mikeal's file on her advanced tablet.
"Mmh... I see that when you were still young, you were taught by one of our own. And looking at the information... I can admit that he was one of our best."
Mikeal's facial expression suddenly changed—and Lt. Ashley Grey knew exactly why. Sensing the awkward tension she'd accidentally created, she quickly continued.
The person they were referring to was none other than Lt. Solomon Grant, once considered one of the greatest first-liners before Lt. Ashley Grey's time. He was also Mikeal's guardian after his parents were brutally eaten and murdered by a cannibal.
After being assigned as a guardian, the late Lt. Solomon Grant had found himself caring for a severely traumatized boy. For almost a year, Mikeal had suffered in silence—literally. He didn't speak for six months.
But as time went on, his silence ended, and he slowly grew comfortable around his guardian. Eventually, they became close—like family.
It was no secret that Lt. Solomon loved that boy like his own. Some of the old officers still remembered Mikeal Park from when he was just a kid.
But after two years of being a family, Lt. Solomon Grant was deployed to combat the newly discovered secondary-grade cannibals. For some reason, he never returned.
"Do you know what this is?" Lt. Ashley Grey asked as a shelf appeared in front of them again.
Mikeal stood there in silence, not answering the question. Lt. Ashley Grey stepped aside.
"Okay. Please choose your weapon of choice," she instructed.
Eventually, Mikeal stepped forward. Before making a decision, he took a careful look at the shelf, which held the last four weapons.
He moved his hand back and forth, uncertain about which one to take. As he touched one and then let go of another, he couldn't decide.
Everyone else waited anxiously for their turn.
"It's okay. Take your time. Choose the weapon you believe is right for you," Lt. Ashley Grey reassured him.
Mikeal looked at her, then at Alexia, and took a deep breath.
"Here goes nothing..."
He reached out for one weapon—but something happened that he didn't expect.
"Ouch!" Mikeal yanked his hand away from the shelf instantly.
Then a notification appeared before him:
---
[User is not compatible with this material]
[The system has found this material harmful to user]
[The system rejects this material]
---
What Mikeal saw confused him. It was one of the many things he didn't fully understand about his mysterious system. The reason he screamed was because all of the weapons on the shelf reacted violently to his touch. They burned him.
This was something new—something that had never happened to anyone else before. Mikeal stood there, nursing his scorched hand.
"Mikeal, is there something wrong?" Lt. Ashley Grey asked, visibly confused.
Mikeal thought carefully about how to respond.
"Uhm... yeah, I think I'm actually allergic to these weapons."
The weapons in question were known as Brands—military-grade weapons capable of inflicting fatal harm to cannibals. That was due to the rare materials they were forged from.
"Excuse me? Did you just say you think you're allergic to these weapons?" Lt. Ashley Grey asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Mikeal replied.
Lt. Ashley Grey turned around and spoke into her earpiece.
"Sir, one of the candidates just said he's allergic to the weapons. What should I do?"
"Let him be. Allow him to take the test. Just give him the suit," the man on the other end replied.
"Roger that, sir," she responded, turning back to Mikeal with an expression filled with concern and doubt.
"Okay, Mikeal. Since you're allergic to the Brands, I'd like to offer you a suit for the test. Is that going to be okay with you?" she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Yes, that's fine with me," Mikeal accepted.
Another soldier—wearing a cap—appeared suddenly and handed Mikeal a specially formed suit.
The soldier didn't say a word. After Mikeal took the suit, the man silently pointed toward the place where he should go to change.
Mikeal looked back at Lt. Ashley Grey, clearly confused and unsure of what was happening.
"Well, go on now. We're all waiting," she said with a small smirk.
Mikeal headed into the indicated building—an old, battered structure, but still more stable than most of the others. After a few minutes, he came out dressed in the suit.
It was an exoskeleton suit, a specialized armor reserved for first-liners who hadn't yet earned a Brand.
As Mikeal returned, Lt. Ashley Grey tapped on her tablet.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"I think s—"
Before Mikeal could finish, he was suddenly teleported to another district. Alone.
The new district Mikeal found himself in was an abandoned zone—one of those forsaken areas in apocalyptic cities where no one lived anymore. There was a dangling welcome sign, rusted and worn. The only letters still visible were P. L. A. U. N. D.
The buildings looked haunted. The streets were eerily empty, littered with skeletons of all ages. One skeleton even sat slumped against a wall, holding a barely recognizable stuffed bear.
Mikeal looked around in silence. He was alone. No one else was there.
A giant screen suddenly flickered on. On it appeared Sgt. Damascus, going through Mikeal's file.
"Mikeal Leonidas Park. Age: 16. Parents: deceased. Guardian: deceased. Interesting... Now all you have to do is survive these primary-grade cannibals. Then we'll see where you deserve to be classified. You have one minute to prepare. Good luck... because you'll need it."
The screen turned off, and a large countdown timer began.
Mikeal didn't need to be a genius to know what was about to happen. He'd heard the stories before: to qualify for first-liner status, a candidate had to survive a wave of Primary-grade cannibals, especially those graded at level three.
Normally, this would be possible—if you had a Brand.
Mikeal didn't.
That made one thing clear: he was doomed to fail.
He didn't know what to do. Should he hide? Should he fight? What kind of chance did he have without the only weapon capable of harming them?
The countdown hit zero, and a loud blaring alarm echoed across the city—alerting every creature in the area.
Just as he feared, a horde of low-grade cannibals came flooding in—running straight at him.
"Oh, shit..." Mikeal muttered, staring at more than a hundred ravenous monsters barreling toward him.
Elsewhere, those who hadn't taken the test yet—including the new students—were watching through wide-screen view. Every student had front-row seats.
"Oh, he's a total goner," Griffin said, arms folded confidently.
The cannibals were climbing over each other, all racing to tear Mikeal apart. With that number, a skinny kid like him wouldn't even be enough to qualify as an appetizer.
Mikeal had no other option.
And if he wasn't going to let his lust for revenge cloud his judgment, he knew there was only one thing left to do.
Run for his life.