The afternoon sun hit like a hammer.

  By the time Class A reached the west gate, Alex’s shirt already clung to his back and the air shimmered with heat. The palisade walls of the village faded behind them, replaced by open fields where the grass rippled in slow waves towards a glittering lake. A wide river ran down from the hills to the north and skirted the town to empty into the lake. In the distance, two wooden palisades jutted from the water half way down either side of the lake, stretching like arms into the forest. They vanished into the tree line, their ends lost in shadow.

  The space between the walls around the near end of the lake had been cleared and flattened. A broad training ground had been built here, dotted with wooden obstacles, climbing rigs, and a narrow running track that looped along the lake’s curved edge from one palisade wall to the other. Despite the heat, the air still smelled faintly of damp earth after the rain the night before.

  Waiting for them at the center of the field was a middle aged woman in baggy green pants with tight cuffs and a faded green tank top. Her hair was short, and buzzed close on the sides, the top was just long enough to tie in a rough knot.

  “Captain Mira Vance,” she said when they approached, her voice gravelly and even. “You can call me Captain, or ma’am, or if you’re dying, I’ll respond to ‘help.’”

  No one laughed.

  Captain Vance looked them over slowly, like she was scanning equipment for defects.

  She turned her head toward Connor. “What’s your name, hero?”

  “Connor Hayes.”

  She stood there with an eyebrow raised. The silence grew awkward before Connor said, “Connor Hayes, ma’am.”

  She nodded in response. “Well, Mr. Hayes, you are not special. But you are breathing and that means you can run. So let’s start there.”

  A few students chuckled quietly. Connor didn’t.

  Mira gestured toward the far end of the field, where the packed trail hugged the lake. “We’ll run to the first palisade way over there,” she said and then swung her arm to point to the opposite side of the lake, “and then over to that palisade over there. It’s two kilometers from one to the other. You’ll do five circuits. Ten kilometers total. No shortcuts, no pity laps. If you fall, you crawl. If you puke, aim away from your teammates and off the path. You stop for more than 5 minutes, you start over.”

  A collective groan rippled through the class.

  She ignored it. “This isn’t punishment. It’s calibration. The nanites inside you learn from effort. They’re not magic. They don’t make you strong on their own; what they do, is multiply what you train. Garbage in, garbage out. Effort in - Gains out.”

  That got everyone’s attention.

  Mira folded her arms. “If you work for it, the nanos will build the muscles you tear bigger and badder than ever. They’ll repair damage to your lungs, and strengthen your heart and veins. They will improve your speed and endurance. If you try to mosey your way through this class though, then you will gain very little and God save you when you enter your first Dungeon.”

  The class was silent as they listened. Alex felt a sudden prickle up his spine. His HUD flickered: a faint pulse of blue on the corner of his vision. He hadn’t told it to do anything, but it wasn’t the first little glitch he had noticed.

  “Line up!” Mira barked. “We start on my mark. Don’t think. Don’t talk. Just move.”

  The group spread out along the trail edge. The dirt here had been packed hard by hundreds of boots already. The lake shimmered beside them, deep blue beneath the sun. On the far side of the lake, a forest rose like a green wall. The trees were thick, ancient-looking and dark. Alex couldn’t see details from this far away but he decided he would have to go explore that forest when he had some free time.

  “Eyes front, Mercer,” Mira said suddenly, as if reading his thoughts. He really hoped the ANIP system didn’t allow the teachers to do that. “No sightseeing until you’ve earned it.”

  He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Three… two… go!”

  The class surged forward.

  Connor exploded off the line like a sprinter, long strides eating the dirt. Jay stayed just behind him, easy and measured, while the rest of the class formed a loose trailing wave. Alex was somewhere near the front of the group – he was no runner and wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up, but his long legs counted for something.

  The first couple of hundred meters were fine. The next two hundred started to hurt.

  His legs weren’t used to the terrain or, really, to running in general. The dirt was uneven and occasionally slipped beneath his boots. What he wouldn’t give for a pair of runners.

  The lake’s glare stung his eyes. It wasn’t long before his breath came too fast, shallow and a little panicked – he hadn’t even reached the first wall yet. He forced himself to slow down a little before he had no other choice and started with Reach’s Still Water Breath, in through the nose, which he tried to sync up with his footfalls. IN, IN through the nose, hold for a step, out, out through the mouth, hold for two steps. The rhythm steadied his breath. The world sharpened just a little.

  A soft ping blinked on his HUD.

  >>> Endurance +0.3%

  He almost laughed. No way.

  Up ahead, Connor turned mid-run and jogged backward over the wide bridge that crossed the river. “Hey, wizard! You keeping up, or do you need a spell of haste?”

  Alex gritted his teeth. “I’m pacing myself.”

  “Sure you are.”

  Connor faced forward again and accelerated, pulling farther ahead. Alex had to fight the urge to try and catch up.

  Melissa puffed beside Alex. “Ignore him. His ego has its own calorie count.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said between breaths. “He’s probably so fast because he’s burning hot air.” Mel laughed and Alex watched Connor pull away around the corner of the lake. He was amazingly fit. Probably a highschool track guy, or football player. Alex had played basketball, but it had been a few years. He determined he would do whatever it took to get back in shape.

  A sharp whistle cut through the air. “Focus on your run!” Mira called from behind them, somehow keeping pace without breathing hard. “If you’ve got air to talk, you’ve got air to sprint!”

  They all shut up.

  The first lap stretched endlessly, but eventually the second palisade wall loomed ahead. It’s massive timbers disappeared deep into the forest, rough and dark with sap. Two company guards stood at its base, crossbows slung over their shoulders. They waved as the runners turned and headed back in the direction they had come from, feet thudding, breath loud.

  Alex risked a glance sideways at the lake. The far shore looked no closer, but the trees there shimmered faintly in the haze, green and gold and distant. Something about it tugged at him – freedom, maybe. Or the promise of quiet. He’d always loved forests and mountains. They felt primeval and for him, a welcome respite from the modern world. Although Primeval maybe meant something different here in the new world.

  When he faced forward again, Connor was fifty meters ahead again. He had paused at the wall, jogging in place while everyone else caught up. Apparently he really needed an audience to see how great he was.

  By the second lap, the class had spread out more. Jay, Connor and Sarah led by a comfortable margin. The others formed little clusters of two’s and three’s – Melissa and Maddie, the other Bard jogged together just ahead of him, Danny and Rae were running with Victor and Ethan. Alex was alone. Sweat rolled down his temples, stinging his eyes. His shirt clung to his ribs.

  His HUD flickered:

  >>> Stamina Threshold Increased

  >>> NANITE ADAPTATION: ACTIVE

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  >>> Heart Rate 164 bpm – High End of Optimal Range

  The words meant nothing to him at this moment. He didn’t feel optimal at all. His blood was beating a louder staccato in his head than his feet did on the path. But he didn’t stop.

  “Good pace, Mercer,” Mira said as she passed him on a side loop, somehow running in reverse up a slight incline. “Breathe with your feet.”

  “Is that… an expression?” he managed.

  “No. You’re gasping like a dying fish. Fix it. Breath in and out, with your steps.”

  He fixed it. She was right. He had started out doing this, but at some point his breath had become ragged. It seemed to help though; breathing in and out with each step. He focused more on his breathwork than anything else, tried to block everything else out.

  By the third lap, pain became background noise. His world narrowed to three things: breath, rhythm, motion. The sound of the lake was a wash beside him and the steady thump of his shoes drove him forward. The HUD pulsed occasionally with faint notifications he barely read – small incremental stat growths, coordination sync, micro-muscle feedback – a blur of micro-progress that could have been measured in sweat.

  Connor passed by on his way back to the first palisade, more than half a lap ahead of Alex.

  He grinned as he closed the distance. “You sure your bots are working?” he asked, pointing vaguely at Alex’s temple. “Maybe your magic battery’s low.”

  Alex didn’t answer. He focused on breathing, but Connor’s laughter stuck like grit in his ear.

  Melissa fell back and ran alongside him. “Ignore him. Seriously. He’s just marking territory.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “I’m noticing. It’s fine though. I just need to get back in shape and I’ll show him. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

  She snorted and then coughed as she tried to catch her breath again. She wheezed a little as she said, “Boys and their alpha nonsense.”

  After the fifth lap, Mira directed them toward the obstacle zone. A field of wooden frames and ropes stretched out ahead: low walls, mud trenches, a hanging cargo net, and a shallow section of the lake roped off for swimming drills apparently.

  “Same order!” Mira called. “No breaks. Three times through the obstacles, then out on the lake – swim to the floating raft and back again! Rinse and repeat 3 times.”

  Connor whooped like a kid at an amusement park, he had been jogging in spot for half an hour waiting for everyone to catch up. “Finally something fun!”

  He reached the first wall and vaulted it cleanly, barely touching the top before dropping to the other side. Jay followed at a slower, efficient pace, but was so tall it looked like he barely had to hop over it. Sarah was right behind him. The rest clambered awkwardly after.

  Alex hit the wall and grabbed the top edge. His muscles screamed. He tried to haul himself up – slipped – tried again. His arms trembled, still sore from all the sword work that morning. He grunted as he pulled and finally made it to the top, rolled over and dropping down the far side, landing on his knees in the mud, breathing hard.

  The HUD blinked:

  >>> Upper Body Strength +0.6%

  He wanted to laugh and groan at once. Fine. That’s something at least.

  Connor was already halfway through the mud trench, crawling like he’d trained for things like this his whole life. He probably did. When Alex dropped in, the sludge swallowed him up to his elbows. He forced his way forward, every pull a small victory, a promise to himself.

  Connor shouted back over his shoulder, “Try not to drown, wizard! There aren’t any spell components down there!” Jay had caught up to him and gave him a push from the side, sending him off course. Connor just laughed and jumped back onto the track.

  “Keep moving!” Mira barked from somewhere to the side. “Less drama, more sweat!”

  By the time Alex reached the rope climb, his body felt like wet sand. His hands, trembling, slid on the hemp, his skin raw, his vision tunneled. He knew that the nanobots were helping, because without them he never would have made it this far, but it still felt impossible to keep moving forward.

  At the top of the rope climb, he hooked a leg over the beam, paused, and looked out. The lake glinted beneath him, silver-blue from up here, ringed by reeds and the shadow of the palisades. And beyond – across the water – the forest.

  As he struggled to catch his breath and looked out at the view, he forgot everything else. Then Connor’s voice cut through the haze.

  “You gonna live up there or climb down, genius?”

  Alex glared and descended. He didn’t have the breath to retort any more. Seriously though, did Connor not have anything better to do than pick at him?

  At the bottom, his muscles betrayed him and he fell the last few feet, landing hard in the dirt.

  Connor dropped beside him, already on his second pass through the course. His landing was spotless of course. He reached over and patted Alex’s shoulder. “Not bad. For a scholar.”

  “Go run into a tree,” Alex gasped.

  Connor laughed and sprinted ahead.

  The last obstacle was a short swim – forty meters through the shallows near the lake’s edge. The water was shockingly cold, but it woke him up, washed off all the sweat and mud and helped soothe his muscles. The shore was shallow enough, and he was tall enough that he could walk most of the way out, so he pretended to swim most of the way. Still, by the time he staggered out, the world had blurred into a mess of motion and noise.

  Mira stood waiting at the trailhead. “Two more laps!” she shouted. “Let’s see what’s left in your tanks!”

  Alex groaned aloud, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Complaining is nothing more than cardio for the soul,” she said. “Run!”

  So he ran.

  The next four kilometers were a blur of pain and determination. Connor finished first, of course, collapsing theatrically on the dirt with his hands behind his head. “That all you got, Captain?”

  Mira didn’t smile.

  Jay finished second, steady as ever. Melissa, surprisingly spry and athletic, had caught up to chat with Sarah and they came next, then Emily, who somehow seemed to glow while everyone else just sweated. Everyone else staggered across in their own time. Alex came last, half limping, half running, just behind Brandon, the other mage. Figures. When he crossed the finish line, the world was spinning in slow motion and he was pretty sure he needed to find a spot to throw up.

  Mira nodded once. “Didn’t quit. That’ll do.”

  Connor, still sitting, smirked. “He’s good at falling behind. Guess that’s something.”

  Mira shot him a look. “You want to be team leader, Hayes?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then learn the difference between being ahead and being useful.”

  Connor’s smile froze.

  Mira turned back to the group. “Listen up! The nanites in your systems respond to repetition, not excuses. They watch how you train, not how much you talk or think about it. You give them discipline, they’ll give you power. You give them arrogance, they’ll give you nothing. Which one do you think gets people killed?”

  Silence. The only sound was the wind moving over the lake. Alex couldn’t have answered even if he had wanted to.

  “Good,” she said finally. “Stretch out. Hydrate. You’re done. I know this was hard, but when you wake up tomorrow morning you are going to feel like a million bucks with a back massage.”

  The class broke apart in exhausted silence. Melissa flopped into the grass beside him. “I think I’m dying.”

  “Pretty sure I died an hour ago,” he said, lying back to watch the sky, pulse still thudding in his ears.

  His HUD blinked softly.

  >>> Stamina +1.3%

  >>> Strength +0.8%

  >>> Willpower +1.0%

  He smiled weakly. “Worth it though. Did you get the stat boosts too?” She nodded at him with a smile.

  “I’m sure they will slow down as we level up. Guess there’s an advantage to sucking at the start.” They both laughed.

  By the time he sat up again, most of the others were trudging back toward the gate. Connor lingered near the water, talking animatedly with a small knot of his teammates, occasionally glancing back at Alex like he was trying to decide whether to sneer or smile.

  Alex didn’t care, whatever his problem was, it was his problem. Instead he let his gaze drift past them to the far side of the lake. The forest there shimmered faintly in the afternoon light, an endless green expanse that promised something more – quiet, mystery, maybe adventure. One day soon he’d go see what was on the other side. And that was just the start. There was a whole new world to explore here!

  He pushed himself to his feet, muscles screaming in protest.

  “Back to the land of the living?” Melissa asked.

  “Barely,” he said, grinning. “But I think my nanites are proud.”

  She laughed and elbowed him. “They better be.”

  Behind them, Mira called, “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time. Bring better lungs.”

  Connor brushed past on his way out, bumping Alex’s shoulder deliberately. “How you feeling, Mercer? I didn’t think you were even going to make it.”

  Alex met his eyes. “I’m not a quitter Connor.”

  The HUD blinked again as if in agreement:

  >>> Willpower +0.5%

  Training isn’t just a filter. It’s a mercy.

  I sign the final list. Every name. Those that move forward and those that go home. And, despite what most of the new recruits always seem to think, it’s not just about measuring talent. Strength, reflexes, how fast they pick up drills. That’s the easy part. ANIP can fix weak muscles and amplifies training.

  But there are some things that the ANIP just can’t fix.

  What I’m watching for is who understands the contract they’ve actually signed, and who is going to be able to handle that pressure. This work does not forgive hesitation, and it does not reward bravado. Out there, mistakes don’t pause for coaching notes. They stack and people bleed.

  The ones we cut aren’t failures. Some of them were incredibly talented and they’ll never understand why they are no longer here. But ultimately, they would have been liabilities—best case scenario, just to themselves. Worst case? To everyone around them.

  A certain percentage goes home every cycle. That number keeps the rest alive.

  I don’t enjoy making the calls.

  I make the calls first, because the world we send these kids out into will not hesitate to make them for us.

  Personal Field Journal

  John Reach; Head Trainer

  ─────────────?─────────────

  Dungeon Inc. // RECRUITING DIVISION

  ─────────────?─────────────

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  ? ━━━? THE STORY CONTINUES… ?━━━ ?