Abarith
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Chapter 52: A Test of Humanity
🕑 Added 2024-12-05 21:35:01 +0000 UTCHendrikson gestured for them to follow, leading each group to their own separate part of the training grounds—each area transformed to look like a different city. It had narrow streets, open plazas, and places to hide or take cover. Jeremy felt his heart rate pick up as he stepped into their assigned city. It was like walking into another world—one with tall buildings, darkened windows, and too many places for enemies to hide.
“This is your battlefield,” Hendrikson said, looking at each of them. “Remember, there’s no holding back. Treat this as if it were real. Because one day, it will be.”
Jeremy's heart thudded as he stood with the others, staring at the sprawling, alien city that stretched out endlessly around them. The buildings were a mix of advanced structures and hasty repairs, with some sectors appearing pristine while others showed signs of makeshift modifications and crude patchwork. It was clear that the city was still inhabited, but the constant need for maintenance showed in every corner. It was hard to believe that this was supposed to be a city, the kind people called home. Everything was gray, crumbling, and heavy with a kind of silence that made Jeremy's skin prickle.
The city was covered by a massive dome, its framework visible above the tops of the buildings. Jeremy couldn't help but stare up at the metal lattice that arched over them, a constant reminder of how alien this place was.
There was something deeply unsettling about it—how the dome seemed to trap the very air inside, making it feel stale and slightly metallic. He could almost taste the iron, mixed with the acrid tang of oil and machinery that drifted faintly on the breeze. The occasional distant hum of machinery echoed through the streets, a reminder of some unseen force keeping the city barely functional. It felt as if the city itself was struggling to stay alive, and Jeremy was amazed at how detailed, how lifelike, the simulation was.
It was nothing at all like Luminaris, with its gleaming buildings, bright lights, and bustling streets filled with laughter and life. Here, under the dome, the city felt like a cage—the buildings crammed together like they were trying to hold each other up, as if one strong wind would bring them all crashing down. Luminaris was full of color and sound, with music and conversation that spilled out into the streets, but here everything was dull—gray and muted.
Marcus was the one who spoke first, his voice steady and confident as always. "Alright, everyone. We split up and take different sections of the city. We'll clear this place in no time if we don't waste time sticking together. We know what we're doing." He smiled, a determined kind of smile, and Jeremy could see his friends nodding along.
Jeremy forced a smile too. He couldn't let Marcus or anyone else see that knot of nerves twisting in his stomach. They had a job to do, and he had to be strong like the rest of them. So, when Marcus said, "Let's go," Jeremy nodded along. He swallowed, took a breath, and turned towards his own section.
He glanced back once, watching as the others disappeared down different streets, their footsteps echoing against the walls of buildings. And then, he was alone. The city stretched out before him—a twisting maze of shattered windows, broken steel, and alleys where shadows pooled like ink. He gripped his spear a little tighter and took a step forward.
Jeremy moved carefully, his eyes darting from side to side. The buildings loomed above him, strangely quiet. The world around him felt desolate in places, but there was also evidence of ongoing life—mechanisms humming faintly, a distant buzz of power that made every creak, every scuff of his feet sound louder, as if something, or someone, might be listening. He kept thinking there was something else out there—an unfamiliar presence, something just beyond his line of sight. Each step forward was slow, deliberate, his senses straining for any sign of movement.
He walked down a narrow street lined with cars, their metal frames rusted and sagging. The road ahead narrowed sharply, with barriers set up to control access, perhaps for maintenance or security. Jeremy had to carefully navigate through a narrow opening, stepping around cables and equipment left by the Xelarians. He maneuvered through the barriers, his feet carefully avoiding loose wires and uneven metal panels. Every time a piece of debris shifted, his muscles tightened, his grip on the spear adjusting as he braced for whatever might come next.
When he made it through to the other side, he looked back at the maze of barriers, his heart still thumping in his chest. He took another breath, trying to steady himself. He wished Andrew or Marcus were here. Andrew would have had some joke to make it all feel less terrifying, and Marcus would have just kept walking, like there was nothing to be anxious about at all.
Jeremy shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He couldn't think like that—couldn't wish for backup. He had to prove he could handle this. But with every step he took, the emptiness pressed in on him a little more. The city felt alive, not in a comforting way, but as if the walls themselves were aware of his presence. It was as though the very structure of this alien place was observing him, waiting for any sign of hesitation. He could feel his pulse in his ears, each beat a reminder that he was very much alone here.
Suddenly, Jeremy spotted movement down the dark alley—a figure stepping out, all quiet and slow. A Xelarian. He dropped into a crouch behind a pile of debris, his breath hitching. It hadn't noticed him yet. He had the advantage, but instead of moving, Jeremy just... froze.
His heart pounded like it wanted out of his chest. The Xelarian moved almost like a person, calm, deliberate, its long, curved blade glinting under the dim alley light. It spoke as it moved, an alien language Jeremy didn't understand, the guttural sounds filled with intensity. The way it moved, the way it looked—something about it felt too human, too familiar. That thought made Jeremy’s legs feel like stone.
The Xelarian turned then, its glowing eyes locking onto him. Jeremy’s throat went dry. It moved toward him, each step confident. He knew he had to do something, but his body wouldn't respond. His muscles refused to move, as if they were bound by invisible chains.
And then it lunged, swinging its weapon in a wide arc.
The Xelarian moved fast—way faster than Jeremy expected. He stumbled backward from his crouch, barely dodging, the creature's blade slicing through the air just inches from his face. He almost tripped over his own feet, catching himself just in time. The fear spiked, turning into something sharp and hot. His body reacted on instinct, everything else forgotten.
Jeremy swung his spear up, holding it in front of him as the Xelarian came at him again. He had Basic Spearmanship, just enough to give him some confidence in his movements. But from the Xelarian's precision, Jeremy could tell it wasn't just flailing—this one had some kind of weapon Skill too. Maybe Basic, like his. This time, he didn’t have time to think. He just reacted, dodging the Xelarian's blade and thrusting the spear forward. The first strike hit its armor and bounced off, vibrating up his arms. He gritted his teeth, adjusted his grip, and struck again, harder this time. The second strike found a gap, sinking in. The Xelarian let out a growl but didn’t go down.
It retaliated, swinging its blade in a desperate arc. Jeremy ducked, feeling the rush of air as the weapon passed over his head. He twisted, trying to pull his spear free, but the Xelarian grabbed the shaft, yanking it hard. Jeremy stumbled forward, his heart pounding as he struggled to keep hold of his weapon. The Xelarian's glowing eyes were inches away, filled with something that almost looked like fury.
Jeremy kicked out, his foot connecting with the Xelarian's knee. It let out a hiss, loosening its grip just enough for Jeremy to rip the spear free. He jumped back, panting, trying to put some distance between them. The Xelarian advanced again, its movements quick and relentless, swinging its blade with a precision that forced Jeremy on the defensive.
Jeremy blocked a strike with the shaft of his spear, the impact jarring his arms. He grit his teeth, parrying another blow, then thrusting forward, aiming for the Xelarian’s chest. It twisted, avoiding the strike, and countered with a slash that grazed Jeremy’s shoulder. Pain flared, hot and sharp, and Jeremy bit back a yell.
The Xelarian pressed the advantage, its blade coming down in a powerful overhead swing. Jeremy barely managed to sidestep, the blade slamming into the ground where he'd been standing. He took the opening, driving his spear into the creature's side, feeling the tip bite through the armor. The Xelarian snarled, twisting away, but Jeremy didn’t let up this time. He pulled the spear out and struck again, the weapon echoing with each impact.
The Xelarian staggered, dropping to one knee, its weapon slipping from its grasp. Jeremy panted, chest heaving, his hands trembling from the adrenaline. He stepped closer, his spear raised, ready to finish it. But then he stopped. He hesitated. His hand shook, the spear hovering above the Xelarian. He couldn't help but wonder—what if this thing really was like a person? What if it had thoughts, feelings, a family even? Just like him?
The Xelarian let out a sigh. Its posture changed—its shoulders slumped, the rigid tension seeping away.
Then it spoke, and the voice that came out wasn't alien at all. It was Mr. Hendrikson's voice.
“What are you doing, Jeremy?” the voice said, calm but disappointed. “Why are you hesitating?”
Jeremy blinked, his grip loosening. The shift was jarring, the creature's alien features suddenly mixed with something eerily familiar. For a moment, Jeremy completely forgot this was a simulation. The city, the fight, the fear—it all felt real, too real.
The Xelarian's eyes shifted, focusing directly on him. “Don’t be fooled by their looks. These creatures, these enemies, they aren’t like us. They might look like they think, like they care, but they don’t. They aren’t human. They don’t deserve your hesitation.”
Jeremy swallowed, his throat dry. “But…”
“No buts.” Hendrikson’s voice was sharper now, like a blade. “They are the enemy, Jeremy. You hesitate now, and it could cost you everything later. They’re not human. They’re not people. They’re just obstacles—monsters standing in your way. You can’t afford to care. Not here, not ever.”
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and raised the spear again.
This time, he didn’t hesitate.
