The Novareum—Sub-Level 5: Post-Neural Observation Wing...
Jayden stood at the threshold, fresh out of diagnostics, the cool air of the corridor brushing past his skin like a whisper from something vast and unseen. Dr. Sen handed him a small, curved device—sleek, matte-black metal with a band that shimmered like liquid graphite. Its surface hummed softly as it wrapped gently around his wrist, clicking into place with a quiet chirp.
"This is a V-Node," Sen said. "Think of it as your guide. It monitors neurological feedback, adjusts your path if necessary, and will let you know what comes next."
Jayden turned the device over, watching as faint lines lit up beneath its surface like veins waking in the dark. "Is it supposed to do something now?"
"It'll activate when it's time," Sen replied with a smile. "And Jayden… you're not alone in this. Come back anytime—if things feel… strange."
Jayden nodded and stepped into the corridor.
The Novareum—Internal Halls...
The moment he moved, the V-Node pulsed. A blue glow spread from its surface, and a soft whir sounded as a holographic projection spiraled upward—floating above his wrist like a miniaturized light show.
Jayden's eyes widened.
A real-time 3D map of the Novareum bloomed before him, full of intricate corridors, pulse gates, thermal shielding zones, and directional flow. It spun gently, then zoomed toward a blinking icon: You Are Here.
"This… is fascinating," Jayden whispered, a crooked smile flickering on his lips.
A glowing line stretched ahead—his path.
He walked.
The facility was unlike anything he had ever seen, like stepping into the brain of some living machine. The walls weren't just walls—they pulsed slightly, as if alive with circuitry beneath the surface. Lights ran in silent pulses overhead, flickering rhythmically, like breathing. Transparent panels revealed labs humming with energy, some glowing with strange blue flora suspended in glass, others showing silhouette figures working on machines that shifted from mid-construction.
A few doors opened automatically as he passed, revealing glimpses of training chambers, fluid-suspension pods, and ceiling panels lined with drones that turned to track his motion with silent curiosity.
But then—just as he passed a curve in the corridor—the map above his wrist glitched.
Flickered.
Gone.
Jayden stopped, blinking.
"Uh…?"
He tapped the band. Nothing. The projection didn't return.
Lifting his gaze, he found himself standing at the mouth of a massive circular room, ceiling impossibly high and walls rimmed with tiered lighting that gave the impression of some ancient amphitheater crossed with alien tech. Dozens of teenagers stood scattered across the floor—some in uniform, some still in civilian clothes—all looking just as lost.
A girl on the far side banged her device, muttering, "Stupid thing—come on."
Another boy next to her looked up. "Mine's out as well."
Jayden slowly stepped inside, eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces—young, uncertain, wide-eyed. Everyone was waiting for something, but no one knew what.
The room fell into silence like a held breath.
Then—BOOM.
The entire far wall flickered and erupted into a massive projection. Light shimmered across the room in a burst of blues and silvers as an image formed: a dimly lit but clean, futuristic office—at its center stood a figure in full shadow.
And then… a voice.
"Welcome."
Director Elric Vahn stepped forward from the projection, hands behind his back. His voice was calm. Measured. Unshakable.
"If you are standing here, it means you've been chosen. Not by luck. Not by birthright. But by patterns far older and deeper than anything you could imagine."
"Each of you was selected through a global sieve—hundreds of metrics, genetic triggers, psychological anomalies, survival instincts, latent neurological traits… and other variables even I'm not cleared to explain."
"You are here because, in the chaos to come, Earth may not survive without you."
A ripple of unease passes through the room.
"Years ago, humanity made contact. Quietly. Carefully. The details are still classified and will remain so. But what matters now… is that something is coming. Not war, not peace—something new. And we are not ready."
"This facility, the Novareum, was a secret project across fifteen nations. Decades of planning, sacrifice, and betrayal have gone into this program. All for this moment. For you."
He steps forward—closer now, more direct.
"You are not soldiers. You are not volunteers. You are anomalies. And we will test every limit you didn't know you had."
A pause. His tone darkens.
"The training and processes ahead will be brutal. Physically. Psychologically, technologically".
"There are risks. Serious ones."
"You may lose parts of your memory."
"You may die."
"Those are not metaphors. This is not a game. This is real."
Gasps. A few faces pale. Others freeze in disbelief.
"But I will give you this—a choice. No shame. No punishment."
"If you walk through those doors in the next two minutes, you'll be escorted out. Your memories of this place are erased. Your life will return to what it was."
"If you stay… then know this: from this moment forward, the world you knew is gone. What lies ahead is nothing short of a rebirth. And through you… humanity will rise or fall."
Silence stretches like a blade.
A few teens exchange glances, then quietly step toward the exit. Security personnel silently open the doors. The ones who leave look back only once—regret already weighing in their steps.
But the majority remain.
Still. Unmoving. Determined.
Elric Vahn nods once as a sign of respect.
"Good."
"Then let the real work begin."
The doors slam shut—the floor hums beneath their feet.
And so begins The Novareum Trials.