"Finish your food, fast!" Meyra barked. Amae was eating voraciously, stuffing her face and even snagging Nugia’s untouched portion.
"Guh—" Amae choked, her mouth overflowing with dry bread while her own portion remained unfinished.
"That's what you get for being greedy!" Meyra yelled.
"Don’t rush! You’ll get a stomach ache. It’s just the warning siren," Zilla said calmly, though her eyes were sharp.
Amae chewed frantically, her eyes wide as she stared at the band on her wrist. The blue glow had flickered out. "The blue light... it’s... it’s dead!" she whimpered through a mouthful of dry crumbs.
"I TOLD YOU TO HURRY!" Meyra snapped, nearly choking herself as she forced down her last bite.
Nugia remained silent, his gaze fixed on Reyna. She was picking at her bread piece by piece, her hands trembling so violently she could barely hold it. "Here," Nugia said, sliding his sausage toward her. Reyna only shook her head, her eyes vacant.
Suddenly, the meager warmth of the dining hall froze.
"Time is up! On the count of ten, you must be on the parade grounds!" Varkas’s voice boomed from the threshold. The noisy hall fell into a deathly silence, leaving only Unit 009 still struggling with their remaining scraps.
"RUN...!" Zilla’s scream broke the ice. She bolted first, followed by Meyra, who moved like a darting shadow. Amae, driven by a mix of lingering hunger and pure terror, snatched two slices of bread and Nugia’s sausage before scrambling after Zilla.
"ONE!" Varkas roared. That number wasn't just a count; it was a sentence.
Reyna froze. The shout sounded like a gunshot echoing in her ears, paralyzing her legs. Her vision blurred as she watched the backs of her three friends grow distant. A suffocating weight pressed on her chest—a toxic mix of betrayal and abandonment.
"TWO!"
The world slowed down for Reyna. She was trapped in a vortex of paralyzing fear.
"THREE!"
Suddenly, a warmth touched her, dissolving the icy terror with an unexpectedly gentle contact. It was Nugia’s hand. Without a word, he pulled her from the steel chair with undeniable strength.
"FOUR!"
It felt like a miracle of companionship, a jolt of electricity surged through the young girl’s legs. Reyna felt the weight on her body vanish, replaced by a desperate drive to run through the lethal countdown hanging in the air.
"FIVE!"
At some point, Varkas’s counting began to fade in their ears. They ran on pure instinct, blurring past the cold concrete corridors until the vast parade ground was only a step away.
"NINE!"
Reyna watched through a veil of tears as Zilla, Meyra, and Amae slid across the boundary line, gasping for air. They were safe. They were in the clear. Reyna reached out toward them, her fingers trembling in the air as if trying to reclaim the fragments of a friendship she thought had been lost.
But the line felt a world away, and time seemed to stop at the very tips of her boots.
"TEN!"
The count ended exactly as Reyna and Nugia skidded onto the concrete. The toes of their boots stopped just millimeters away from the penalty line.
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Varkas stared at them, his jaw tightening. The muscles in his neck pulsed, and his mechanical eye whirred rapidly, scanning for a mistake he couldn't find. He looked like a predator who had just been robbed of the chance to taste the pain he so desperately wanted to inflict on Unit 009 this morning.
Across the field, other units stood in rigid rows, looking like black headstones. The Red Moon was never visible in the skies of PETERUMMAN, but a pale, sickly light still filtered through the thick dust clouds, illuminating the hollow faces of children who had long since lost hope.
"You're lucky," Varkas hissed, his voice low and predatory. "But today is physical and weight training. I’ll make sure these concrete floors have you crawling back to your dorms."
He pointed toward the barracks across the field. "Move! Now!"
***
Unit 009 moved. There was no robotic precision in their step. They trudged across the concrete lot, which still felt hot from the sweat of previous cycles.
The spotlights caught Amae’s slumped figure; her shoulders hung low as if gravity in this place were ten times heavier for her. Beside her, Reyna walked with a limp, occasionally leaning on Zilla’s arm to keep from collapsing. Nugia maintained a steady, expressionless pace, with Meyra gripping his shoulder for support, her face turned away to hide her shame behind her damp hair.
The training area shifted inside the barracks—a vast hall resembling a makeshift military gym, lined with dull induction bars and heavy black Magnetic Cubes
"Thirty reps! If the cube sensor touches the floor before the count is finished, the whole unit starts from zero!" Varkas commanded. He prowled toward Unit 009 and kicked a Magnetic Cube—its surface pulsing with red light—toward Nugia’s feet.
"Specifically for our 'Hero' here," Varkas sneered. "Use this one. I’ve cranked the magnetic pull to the maximum level."
Nugia stared at the black cube. Cold. Rough. He squatted and gripped the iron handles. As he strained to lift it to his shoulders, the magnetic force from the floor fought him with everything it had. The muscles in Nugia’s arms bulged, and the bandages wrapped around his skin began to seep crimson as the weight threatened to tear him apart.
"One..." Zilla whispered, setting the rhythm for the unit.
Beside Nugia, Amae was already shaking by the third rep. Her face was flushed deep red, tears welling in her eyes. Every time she lifted her Magnetic Cube, her spine emitted a sickening , as if it would snap under the merciless mass.
"Mey... I... I can't..." Amae whimpered.
"Shut up and lift! Don't look down!" Meyra hissed back. She was struggling herself, sweat pouring down her tight black uniform, outlining the muscles being forced into existence by the brutal weight.
Varkas stood directly behind Nugia, letting the tip of his whip brush the boy’s heel. "Why so slow, Nine? Is the magnetic pull too heavy for a little ?"
Nugia didn't answer. His breathing was steady, his eyes locked on the gray horizon. But deep inside, a blue glow began to pulse faintly with every heartbeat. He didn't feel like he was lifting a magnet; he felt like he was hoisting the very weight of the rage he was trying to suppress.
Every time the cube rose, Nugia pictured the warm faces of his friends. Every time it fell, he pictured Varkas’s face shattered.
Suddenly, Amae’s foot slipped on the metal floor, slick with sweat.
"AGHH!"
Amae’s Magnetic Cube tilted, nearly crushing her foot. Varkas’s hand shot up, ready to strike whoever dared break the rhythm.
The plasma whip coiled in the air, ready to shred Amae’s trembling back. But then, a flash of red brighter than the barrack lights cut through their vision.
"STOP, VARKAS!"
The voice wasn't a roar like Varkas’s, but it carried an authority that could stop a heart. Every eye turned toward the door.
Scarlett stepped in. Her long red hair billowed in the cold draft, looking like a living flame in a frozen world. Her silver-white cloak shimmered, a sharp contrast to the soot-covered black uniforms of the cadets. To the children of Unit 009, she looked like an angel who had accidentally descended into hell.
Varkas flinched, reflexively retracting his whip until the plasma sparks died instantly. He bowed low—so low his face nearly touched the concrete.
"Lady Scarlett... an honor. What brings you to such a... filthy place?" Varkas’s voice turned into a sickeningly low crawl.
Scarlett didn't answer. She walked until she stood before Unit 009. Her warm yet sharp eyes swept over them—Amae’s bleeding knees, Reyna’s pale face, and the reddening bandages on Nugia’s arms.
She stopped in front of Nugia. For a fleeting second, Scarlett’s green eyes met Nugia’s deep blue ones. She seemed stunned, as if she recognized something long lost behind the boy's gaze.
"Do you treat them as humans, Varkas, or as cattle?" Scarlett asked, never taking her eyes off Nugia.
"They... they are assets of Project Executioner, Lady. I am simply ensuring they are strong enough to—"
"Enough!" Scarlett cut him off. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small vial of glowing, translucent green liquid—a high-level healing potion that even soldiers of Varkas’s rank had never seen.
She knelt on the filthy concrete, ignoring her expensive cloak dragging through the dust, just to apply the liquid to Amae’s trembling knees.
"I'm sorry... you shouldn't have to endure this," she whispered softly, loud enough only for Unit 009 to hear.
Amae was frozen. In a place where a touch usually meant pain, Scarlett’s gentle hands felt like magic healing their very souls.
Nugia watched Scarlett warily, but in his mind, the memory of the "woman chanting a healing spell" began to spin.
Scarlett moved toward Nugia. With trembling fingers, she unwrapped the bandages on the boy's arms. Her eyes instantly filled with tears at the sight of the lash marks—wounds too ancient for a child of his age. her conscience screamed, feeling as though every scar on Nugia’s skin was a cut on her own heart.
She poured the rare magic liquid slowly. "This is high-grade healing magic; your wounds will close instantly," she whispered hoarsely. "I promise I will get you all out of here. For now... this is all I can do."
In silence, Scarlett clenched her fist. her mind shrieked in hatred against the system she served.
Nugia stared at Scarlett intently. For a moment, his black pupils shimmered with a faint blue light. Nugia thought. The image of the woman from his dream last night flashed vividly, just as the wounds on his hands closed without leaving a single mark.
Scarlett then turned, stroking the hair of the three girls with the tenderness of a mother. For Zilla, Meyra, and Reyna, that touch sent a warmth through their nerves that repaired their exhaustion more than any medicine they had ever swallowed.
Scarlett’s presence became an invisible shield. The rest of the physical training proceeded in peace, devoid of the whip’s crack or Varkas’s harsh roars. Under the watchful eye of the "Angel of the Flame," Unit 009 finished their push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups. Scarlett remained, guarding them with her gaze until the session ended—as if every second of her presence was time stolen from Vier’s grasp.
But that peace was merely a brief interlude in the symphony of death.
The sirens wailed again, this time with a heavier, more mechanical tone. It was time to stop using their muscles and start learning how to use the instruments of slaughter.
A Message from Behind the Walls

