Chapter 2: The Warden

 A dull, throbbing pain pulses through my skull, before I even open my eyes. My senses return in jagged pieces—first the cold, sterile air, then the muted hum of ventilation overhead, the distant murmur of voices. My eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. For a moment, I don't move. I just listen. Low murmurs ripple through the room, hushed voices exchanging words I can't make out. The distant hum of ventilation echoes overhead. The air is stale, metallic, laced with something clinical—like the scent of damp concrete and sterilized steel. I force my eyes open. Dim overhead lights cast a sickly white glow, making everything look washed out and artificial. The first thing I notice is the bunk bed above me, the thin, rigid mattress pressing against the frame. I shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric beneath me. A blanket—thicker than the ragged scraps I was used to back home in Tier 5—has no holes, no stains, no years of wear clinging to it. That alone unsettles me. I push myself up, and pain spikes through my skull. I hiss through my teeth, gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself. That's when I notice the bruises—dark splotches blooming across my forearms, a dull tenderness along my ribs. I reach up, fingers brushing against my temple. It's swollen, but not bleeding. The bastards knocked me out and dumped me here like trash. Then it hits me—Raegan. My chest tightens. My pulse jumps. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, barely registering the cold floor against my bare feet as I scan the room. Rows of metal bunk beds stretch out in either direction, each bolted to the floor with military precision. Other recruits—some sitting up, some still half-asleep—murmur in small groups. The walls are blank, smooth steel without windows, the air thick with silence and unease. But I don't see him. I shove to my feet too fast, and the world tilts violently. My vision blurs at the edges, but I force myself to stay upright. A low chuckle pulls my attention. "Easy there, tough guy. "I snap my gaze toward the voice. A guy leans back against the bunk across from mine, arms folded behind his head. He's older, maybe by a couple of years, with sharp eyes and a smirk that reads I've seen worse. "You were out for a while," he continues. "They had to drag you in here. Thought you might've been dead." I ignored him. "Where's my brother? "His smirk faltered for a moment. "Who?" he huffed

 "Raegan." My voice is sharp. "He was on the bus with me. looks just like me but he's shorter with blue eyes." Recognition flickers in his eyes, but he shrugs. "No clue. They were splitting people up when they brought you in. Different barracks, different sectors, the others are across the hall in different barracks." I don't hear the rest. My body moves before my brain catches up, feet carrying me toward the door. I don't care if they knock me out again. I don't care if they try to throw me into a damn wall. I'm not letting them take him from me. I make it three steps before the guy shoves himself off his bunk and blocks my path. "Bad idea." His voice is low, serious now, his blonde hair slightly covering his eyes. "They've got cameras everywhere. You step out of line, they will kill you this time. "I shove past him anyway.

 The second my foot crosses the threshold, a deafening alarm blares through the room. "Return to your assigned spaces. Unauthorized movement will result in disciplinary action." Red warning lights flash against the steel walls, casting everything in eerie, shifting shadows. The murmurs in the room stop. Some recruits glance at me, but most look away. They've already learned what happens when you push back. I grit my teeth, fists clenching at my sides. The guy exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he steps back toward his bunk. "Told you." I stand there, heart hammering, brain screaming at me to run. To push forward. But I don't. Not yet. Because getting caught again won't help me find Raegan. And I will find him.

"Even if I have to burn this place to the ground—"My thoughts are cut short by a familiar sigh. "What the hell are you doing?" I whip my head around so fast my vision swims, but I don't care. Raegan. Hes standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking at me like I just did something unbelievably stupid. Which, to be fair, I probably did. His dark hair is messier than usual, like he's been running his hands through them, and there's a fresh bruise forming on his jaw. My chest loosens slightly, but I don't move toward him. Not yet. "Are you okay?" My voice is rough, barely above a whisper. Raegan scoffs. "Am I okay? You're the one who got knocked out trying to play hero."I don't argue, but the way my jaw tightens must say enough. His expression softens for half a second before he sighs again, dragging a hand down his face. "Look, I don't know how, but I convinced them to put me in this barrack. You almost screwed that up by making a scene." I frown. "You convinced them?" He shrugs. "They Called it a logistical error." That… doesn't sound like something the faceless bastards in black would let slide. But if Raegan is standing in front of me, that means it worked, unless hes hiding something. I looked at his bruised jaw. I shake my head, glancing around. The alarm has stopped blaring, but the warning lights still pulse along the walls, casting red streaks over the recruits who are now pretending not to watch us. I lower my voice. "We need to figure out what's going on here, the forced to sleep, put in those pods, coming here. everything, its weird, this seems nothing like the pretest mom told us about, i thought it was a normal paper exam. "Raegan exhales through his nose. "You think I don't know that? But you getting yourself beat half to death isn't gonna help. "Before I can argue, a metallic clank echoes through the room. The overhead lights shift from red back to white, and a cold, modulated voice crackles through unseen speakers. "Stand by for orientation." Every recruit goes rigid. The doors at the far end of the barracks slide open with a sharp hiss, and a new set of guards enter—six of them, each in the same black tactical armor, faceless visors gleaming under the artificial light .A single figure follows behind them, dressed in deep gray instead of black. His uniform is crisp, his posture straight, and even from here, I can tell he's different. Higher rank. Someone with real authority. His boots echo against the steel floor as he stops in front of us. The room is so silent I can hear my own heartbeat. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady. Controlled. "Welcome to the Echelon Trials."

 The man in gray surveys us with an unsettling patience, as if memorizing each of our faces. His hands remain clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable.

No name tag. No insignia. Just sharp, piercing eyes that flick between us like he's measuring something unseen.

I don't move. I don't breathe.

Neither does anyone else.

"You are here because you have potential," he continues, voice steady, calculated. "Each of you has proven yourselves capable—either by skill, intelligence, or sheer will to survive. But understand this… potential is not enough."

He takes a step forward, hands still locked behind his back. The guards on either side of him remain motionless.

"Over the next several weeks, you will be tested in ways you cannot yet comprehend. Physically. Mentally. If you fail, you will be discarded. If you refuse to comply, you will be eliminated by any means necessary."

A heavy silence settles over the room.

Raegan stiffens beside me, and I see his fingers curl slightly, like he's holding himself back from reacting.

The man tilts his head slightly, like he's enjoying the tension.

"This facility is your home now. Your past, your families, your old lives—none of that matters anymore. You belong to the Trials."

I clench my jaw. Belong?

The way he says it makes my skin crawl. Like we aren't humans, but property. Like we're tools to be sharpened, used, and discarded when we're no longer useful.

I glance around, gauging the reactions of the others. Some look terrified. Some stare blankly ahead, too shocked to process what's happening. Others—like me—just watch.

Waiting. Calculating.

"Your first evaluation begins at dawn," he states. "Sleep well."

Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and walks out. The guards follow, vanishing through the steel doors as silently as they came.

The second they're gone, the tension in the room breaks like a snapped wire. Some people immediately start whispering, some crying, others just sit there, staring at the floor like they're trying to wake up from a nightmare.

I exhale slowly, turning to Raegan.

He meets my eyes, jaw tight.

"What the hell did we just sign up for?"

I don't answer at first. Because deep down, I already know.

Something far worse than we ever imagined.

And there's no way out.

"sign up? that's pushing it, we didn't have a choice" I teased breaking the tension causing Raegan's shoulders to relax.

Raegan and I walk back to our bunks with slight sighs here and there. My head is still pounding, but I can't bring myself to care. He's here—that's all that matters. For now. 

I sink onto the bottom bunk, elbows on my knees, fingers digging into my temples as I try to shake off the lingering haze. Raegan sits next to me, arms crossed, his foot tapping restlessly against the floor. 

"You're a goddamn idiot," he mutters, thinking about the fight off the bus and now how I tried to chase him thinking he was in a different room. 

I huff out a breath. "You're welcome." 

Before he can snap back, another voice cuts through the tense quiet. 

"Told you it was a bad idea." 

I look up, already knowing who it is. 

The guy from earlier when i first woke up in the bed. He's leaning against the frame of his bunk, arms folded, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But there's no humor in his eyes. 

"This is your fault, you know," he says. 

I frown. "What?" 

the man tilts his head toward the door, his smirk fading. "That man. The one who showed up because of your little 'hero' stunt." 

The weight of his words sinks into my chest like a stone. as I sit up straighter. "Who was he?" 

he exhaled sharply, pushing off the bunk and stepping closer. "Someone you don't want paying attention to you." 

Raegan shifts uncomfortably beside me, glancing between us.

the mans eyes flick to Raegan for a brief second before locking back onto me, clearly I missed something while I was out. "They call him Warden," he says finally. "He doesn't come down here. Ever, or so we were told as we were being situated into our rooms. That is Until tonight. When rules are broken he appears..and you quite literally crossed the line." 

A cold chill slides down my spine. 

"And now he knows exactly who you are...who we are." 

I clench my jaw. "I don't care who he is." 

he scoffs once more. "You should, by the looks of it that guy runs the place and take it from me a tier 3, he is the last person this barrack needs watching." 

The tension between us thickens, but I refuse to look away. I refuse to back down. 

"Fine," I say. "Then tell me what you know." 

he studies me for a long moment before shaking his head. "No. Your too reckless." 

I open my mouth to argue, but he's already turning away, his posture relaxed but his steps precise, measured. he clearly knows something, I'm guessing tier 3 people are taught a little more then we are about the events that take place here.