Fragments of the Test

Chapter 15: Fragments of the Test

The announcement came unexpectedly, like most things the staff did. One moment, the facility was its usual cold, controlled self, and the next, the staff's voices boomed through the halls, summoning every child to the common area. The tension that had been building since #0611 and #0529's punishment hadn't faded—it had only deepened, leaving everyone on edge.

I sat with the others, backs straight, eyes fixed ahead. The staff stood at the front, their expressions blank, scanning the room with the unsettling calm they always carried. They wore their usual uniforms, but something about them was different today—colder, more deliberate.

"Children," one of them began, his voice cracking through the room like a whip. "It's time."

No one moved. No one breathed.

"The time has come for a new test. One that will determine who among you is ready. Ready for what, you ask? Ready to step beyond the boundaries of this facility. Ready to show us the strength, strategy, and loyalty that will define your future."

A murmur spread among the children, a ripple of confusion and excitement. But I wasn't fooled. The staff never did anything without purpose, and their tests were never just about strength. There was always something else lurking beneath the surface.

"The event," the staff member continued, "will be a competition. You will be divided into groups and face a series of challenges. These challenges will test not only your physical abilities but also your mental fortitude, adaptability, and willingness to make sacrifices."

Sacrifices. The word sent a chill through me.

"But this time, you won't be competing with just the faces you know," the staff member added, a sinister glint in his eye. "There are others."

A wave of confusion swept over me. Others? What did that mean?

"This facility is much larger than you realize," the staff member continued, his tone cold and precise. "There are multiple classes, groups of children that you have never met—children just like you, with their own unique abilities, their own strengths, their own ambitions. You will be competing against them."

The revelation sent a jolt of shock through the room. There were more children? More groups? I had spent my whole life here, thinking that I knew the facility, that I understood the boundaries of my world. But the staff had kept these others hidden. Why? How many more were there?

I couldn't stop my thoughts from racing. What kind of powers did these other children have? Were they stronger than us? More experienced?

"There will be no interference from us," the staff added. "Your survival, your success, will be in your hands. The strongest will rise, and those who are not ready will be… removed."

Removed. The word hung in the air like a curse. We all knew what that meant. The staff didn't tolerate weakness.

I kept my face neutral, trying to hide the unease creeping through me. A competition. A test. This was what I had feared. I had been training, yes, but I wasn't ready to show them everything I could do. Not yet. And now, there would be no hiding.

"The event will begin tomorrow. Prepare yourselves."

With that, the staff turned and left the room, leaving the rest of us to process what we had just heard.

As soon as the staff were gone, the room erupted into whispered conversations. Some of the older kids were already forming alliances, their voices low as they strategized. Others kept to themselves, their faces grim, knowing that this was more than just a game.

But it wasn't just our group that mattered anymore. We were going to be up against children we had never seen before—children who had likely been training in secret, developing powers that might far exceed our own.

I stayed in my corner, watching, listening. I had never been one of the favored ones, never one of the strong. My number—#0732—wasn't exactly impressive, and that had always marked me as weaker in the eyes of the others.

A few of the older kids glanced my way, their expressions a mix of pity and disdain. I could almost hear their thoughts: He won't last long. He's not strong enough.

It wasn't the first time I had felt their judgment, but today it cut deeper. The event wasn't just about proving our strength—it was about survival. And in their eyes, I wasn't a survivor. I was just one of the weaker ones, destined to be left behind.

The hours dragged on as the weight of the announcement settled over us. Some of the children spent their time practicing, honing their abilities in quiet corners of the facility. I watched them, noting their movements and the precision of their control. They were ready for this.

But I wasn't. Not yet.

I could feel the judgment in their eyes, the way they looked at me like I was an afterthought. I had always kept to myself, always stayed in the background, but now that strategy was working against me. The other children saw me as weak, and in this event, that perception could be deadly.

I overheard snippets of conversations as I moved through the halls, their voices hushed but sharp.

"#0732? He's barely managed to stay afloat. He'll be one of the first to go."

"They'll probably just use him as bait. He's too weak to be of any use."

The words stung, but I kept my expression blank. Let them think what they wanted. I wasn't going to prove them right.

I retreated to one of my hidden spots, away from the prying eyes of the others. I needed to focus, to prepare. The staff had set the stage for something far bigger than just a test. This was about survival, and if I didn't find a way to push past their expectations, I wouldn't make it through.

But I had been working in the shadows for a reason. I had learned to control my power in ways they hadn't seen yet. I wasn't ready to reveal it—not entirely—but when the time came, I would show them what I was capable of.

They looked down on me, thought I was weak. But they had no idea what was coming.