Chapter 50 | The Beat of Elites

Leon stood among a thousand armored recruits, shoulder to shoulder beneath the pale light of dawn. His weapons gleamed in the rising sun, polished steel catching fire at the edge of the horizon.

"Good morning, recruits," the Warcenturion's voice boomed across the field. "Today marks a day you will never forget—"

THUD.

A thousand spears struck the earth in unison, the sound echoing like thunder.

"You will leave as recruits—"

THUD.

"You will return as true Elites—"

THUD.

"I will not lie," the Warcenturion said, pacing slowly before them. "Some of you will not return at all."

He stopped. His gaze swept the ranks. Beside them, the low hum of the Orbital Carriers ignited, deep and resonant, like beasts waking from slumber.

Leon's pulse quickened. The air felt heavier. Excitement clashed with fear, burning through his veins like wildfire.

"But those who do—" the Warcenturion raised his voice, fire in his eyes. "—those who do will EARN THE RIGHT TO BE CALLED ELITE!"

THUD. THUD.

The entire formation pivoted left in perfect sync.

They marched towards the Orbital Carriers.

Armored boots struck the ground like war drums.

Leon's group made their way toward one of the Orbital Carriers, where Instructor Zell stood waiting by the ramp.

"One, closest to the doors. Everyone else, line up behind them by vora order," Zell called out.

The formation moved steadily up the ramp and into the carrier's cargo hold without slowing.

Inside, a crewmember stood by the wall, raising his voice over the low hum of the engines.

"Backs to the wall. Inject mana into your suits. Once you're linked to the carrier's system, it'll magnetize and hold you in place."

Leon and his vora reached the far end of the hold, furthest from the doors. He turned and pressed his back against the wall, just as instructed.

Across from him, Malco did the same. The back of his armor glowed as mana flowed through its circuits. The wall lit up in response, soft blue lines pulsing with energy.

Leon focused and pushed mana into his own suit. He felt a gentle pull as the suit synced with the carrier's system. Just to test it, he let his legs go slack.

The wall held him in place.

The hum of the mana engines grew louder. At the far end of the cargo hold, the ramp began to close. Two crewmembers moved down the line, tugging on each recruit to ensure they were fully locked in. Once satisfied, they gave a nod to Instructor Zell, who followed them out.

A click of static sounded through the overhead speakers as the carrier's internal comms came online.

"Control, Stork One requesting IFR clearance, with information Charlie," the pilot said, voice steady.

"Stork One, you are cleared for takeoff. Fly heading 160, climb and maintain 1,500."

"Cleared for takeoff, heading 160, climb and maintain 1,500. Stork 1."

Without warning, the carrier banked hard to the right and surged upward. Leon's stomach flipped. The magnetic grip held him firm, but the G-forces tugged at his insides.

After a few seconds, the carrier leveled out. The ride smoothed. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and brought up the map on his helmet's HUD.

A sweeping landscape filled the display. The Blister Plains stretched beneath them, the terrain rushing by.

They would arrive in minutes.

He focused on the section labeled Blackthorn Wilds. The map zoomed in, revealing a blinking red marker inside the wilds. That was their destination. They had to reach that point before requesting extraction.

But the navigation system was barebones. No terrain details. No location markers for other voras. Not even his own teammates. Just him and the endpoint.

He closed the map and switched off the display.

Inhaling slowly, he began a steady breathing cycle. Eyes shut. Muscles relaxed. He entered a meditative state, guiding mana through his body.

He knew there wasn't enough time to make a real difference in his mana saturation, but the routine grounded him.

For the past three days, he had done everything he could. Sparring until exhaustion. Studying mission materials. Staying in the saturation chamber until his skin tingled uncomfortably.

He tried his best to make sure he would survive.

He clenched his fist.

Relaxed.

Clenched again.

Then relaxed.

Each cycle brought him deeper.

He could feel it now. He was right on the edge of breaking into C-rank saturation.

"Approaching first drop zone," the pilot's voice crackled over the comms.

Leon felt the carrier slow and dip lower. He opened his eyes as the overhead lights in the cargo hold shifted to red, bathing everything in a tense glow.

A crewmember stepped back into the hold, his boots pulsing with mana as he moved toward the doors.

"Vora One, step up," he called, barely audible over the hum of the engines and mana conduits.

One detached from the walls. Mana surged into their boots, locking them to the deck as the carrier continued to descend. The cargo doors hissed open, revealing a misty canopy of the jagged treetops of Blackthorn Wilds.

The crewmember said something to Vora One, pointing down into the forest below, but Leon couldn't make it out over the roar of wind and systems.

The vora reshuffled, forming two quick lines near the open bay. The lights above them turned green.

The crewmember gave a sharp wave.

One by one, Vora One leapt into the void.

How far down is that? Leon wondered, craning his neck to see. The trees looked like jagged thorns from this height.

Fifteen seconds later, Two was called. The routine repeated. Lines formed, mana boots engaged, jump executed.

"Vora Ten," the crewmember finally called.

Leon exhaled and fed mana into his suit, disengaging the magnetic locks. He carefully adjusted the flow, timing the grip of his boots with each cautious step forward.

His vora moved slowly, forced to continuously cycle mana—disengage, step, re-engage—just to stay upright on the vibrating deck.

"It's a thirty-foot drop," the crewmember shouted as they reached the door. "When the light turns green and I give the signal, jump, then clear the landing zone for the next!"

Leon stood at the front, Mason just to his right. He focused, willing mana to circulate through his body. The blue glow in his irises flared brighter.

The light turned green.

He glanced at the crewmember, who gave him the wave.

Leon disengaged his boots, took three long strides, and leapt into the open air.

For a moment, he felt weightless, then his stomach dropped as gravity took hold.

His feet hit the ground hard, but he rolled through the impact, shoulder first. In a fluid motion, he and Mason rose to their feet and jogged toward the treeline.

Leon looked back just in time to see the last of Ten hit the ground. The others followed, sprinting toward him. Above, the carrier banked left and began climbing.

He brought up his HUD map, dropped a marker at their location. This would be the extraction point once their mission was complete.

"Let's move," he said, closing the map and turning to enter Blackthorn Wilds.

The vora formed up into two columns, with Leon and Mason at the lead. 

Minutes later, they reached a small clearing. Leon pulled up the map again to check their bearings.

"Set—" he began, turning to give an order, then froze.

A set of white, razor-sharp teeth emerged from the shadows behind one of his member.

"MALCO!"

Crunch!

"AAHHHHHHHH!"

Massive jaws clamped down on Malco's shoulder.

Kara, the closest to him, lunged with her spear. 

But before it could land, another beast appeared out of nowhere and slammed into her, launching her across the clearing and crashing into Leon.

"AAAGHHH! Hel—P me!" Malco screamed, his body thrashing as the creature lifted him off the ground, shaking him like a ragdoll.

"I-It's a Dire Hound," Mason stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

The beast towered over them; ten feet tall, a monstrous variant of the Blackthorn Hound. Its body was lined with jagged thorns, not just along its spine but down its legs as well.

It was stronger, faster, and worst of all, it could blend into darkness, making it nearly invisible even with enhanced vision and sensors.

The second Dire Hound joined in, sinking its teeth into Malco's legs.

"P—Please!" Malco sobbed, his voice breaking as he begged.

Leon's heart pounded so hard he was sure others could hear it. 

A sharp tingling spread through his head, his body trembled uncontrollably. His chest tightened. He could barely breathe. Shallow gasps, nothing more.

"AHHH! NOOO! Ple—ase! Pl—"

They watched, frozen in place, as the two Dire Hounds pulled Malco apart.

Blood sprayed. His insides hit the dirt with a sickening wet slap.

Leon's HUD flashed.

Recruit Carl, Malco: Vital Signs Lost.

That was the breaking point.

Malric and Ravi turned and ran.

The others followed.

Panic took hold and Vora Ten broke.