ARENA – OPERATIONAL AND SAFETY PROTOCOLS
- Facility Description:
- The A-Ω type Arena is a modular training environment designed for testing the psychophysical resilience of Modificants (hereafter referred to as subjects). The simulation runs in a fully controlled, adaptive space with the capability of direct interface with the subject’s sensory map.
- Operational Guidelines:
- a) Simulations must be designed with respect to the subject’s current medical condition.
- b) Each stress phase must be followed by a minimum of 1 hour of recovery window (exceptions must be approved by a supervisor).
- c) Entry of unauthorized personnel into an active simulation is strictly forbidden unless the simulation is in diagnostic mode.
- Safety Measures:
- a) In the event of loss of sensory contact or EEG irregularities, the simulation is automatically terminated.
- b) Direct intervention in a running simulation is permitted only under the instruction of the supervising Werren.
- c) The supervising Werren has exclusive authority to alter simulation parameters in real time.
- A-Ω Model Specifics:
- The A-Ω Arena includes advanced illusion-based components (so-called neuro-shadow layers) capable of generating visual and auditory stimuli with a precision of 0.01 seconds of neural latency.
Note: Use of third-tier neuro-shadow layers is considered highly invasive and is recommended only for individuals with confirmed mental stabilization.
Ela, the Beacon, and the Virtual Arena
When Ela stepped into the training space, the weight of the simulation hit her instantly, clamping down on her mind like an invisible cage. From the observation deck, she had only been able to watch Reng. But now, standing inside his world, everything shifted. The dark maze he’d been moving through sank into her consciousness. The obstacles now loomed as menacing shadows, creeping closer with every breath. And with each step, she felt the unrest crawling deeper beneath her skin.
“Reng?” she called out, but her voice thudded into emptiness, swallowed by oppressive silence.
Her meco showed his position, but when Ela issued the shutdown command, nothing happened.
Instead, the darkness thickened, heavier, denser, as if it was swallowing her whole. She tried to intervene again, but it became clear alarmingly fast: she was now trapped in an illusory snare she couldn’t control.
“You can’t be serious,” she whispered into the void, her thoughts darting to Tonot, still standing on the overlook. He was probably enjoying this, watching her stumble into his experimental training program, voluntarily, and so foolishly.
Her heart began to race. She knew the fastest way out was to find Reng and get out of the simulation together. So she didn’t wait any longer, she moved forward.
Her fingertips brushed against the wall on her right. It felt rough and cold, interrupted by patches of metal plating that echoed her steps in a muted rhythm. Strange, given that the wall’s real surface was perfectly smooth, only the simulation told her what to feel and perceive. Ahead stretched a narrow corridor disappearing into a haze of thick fog rolling over the floor. The air was dense, cold, steeped in a stench that reminded her of rotting flesh.
“It’s just a simulation,” she kept whispering, trying to calm herself.
But she wasn’t sure what she believed more. Her own conviction or what her eyes showed her. Everything around her felt far too real. A tight knot gripped her gut, keeping her from breathing steadily. Her mind clamped in fear.
“Can’t you shut it down?!” she screamed into the dark.
She was certain Tonot could hear her, but the only reply was a rustle, nearby. Instinctively, she turned around, but saw nothing in the gloom. She was alone... or was she? Again she tried to terminate the simulation via meco. Still nothing. Just more darkness pressing in on her like punishment for her futile attempts. Breathing became difficult, as though the air itself was thickened with something slowly suffocating her.
She tried to move quietly, cautiously, but fear tangled her legs. A shadowy instinct told her she wasn’t alone. Every sound, no matter how small, suddenly felt like a warning of something approaching.
Then the lights at the end of the corridor flickered and for a heartbeat, they revealed a sight that took her breath away. Corpses, torn apart and strewn across the floor. Pale skin, empty eyes. Some bodies twisted into unnatural shapes, limbs broken. Blood dripped from one of them, thin streams merging into a pool spreading across the ground.
How much blood can a human body hold?
Ela inhaled, but the air was thick, heavy with death.
Simulation. Just a simulation. But what if…?
It felt too real. The stench of blood, the distant scraping of something large, echoing deep within the corridors… Anxiety seeped under her skin, and in that moment she understood, truly understood, what the Modificants endured day after day in training. What awaited them outside was terrifying, yes, but this? This was worse. After this kind of horror, nothing could ever catch them off guard again. It explained so much.
A harsh sound tore through her thoughts. Sharp and metallic, scraping through the halls. It was close. Too close. It came from around the corner, accompanied by slow, heavy footsteps.
From the adjoining corridor came a guttural snort, deep and ragged. She heard a crunching noise, like bones being crushed between powerful jaws. Behind the wall, something scratched rhythmically, followed by the sickening splash of something wet. A gruesome image surfaced in her mind, some unspeakable creature burying itself in the innards of its last victim. The smell wafting toward her was savage: a sharp, musky reek laced with the metallic tang of fresh blood.
“Reng…” she whispered into the darkness, desperation in her voice, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
Something moved ahead. Fast. Subtle. The shadows began to pulse with life, and within them lurked something big. Something hungry for more blood.
Ela froze. Each step became heavier than the last. Then she couldn’t move at all, paralyzed by fear. It was coming. It was right there, just out of sight. She curled in on herself, hands covering her face, bracing for the inevitable.
Suddenly…
A swift movement sliced through the dark. She felt the air tremble as someone rushed past her. A firm hand yanked her aside, hard enough to knock her off balance. She hit the ground, the breath knocked from her lungs. Something roared. A sound not meant for a human throat.
And then… silence.
But it wasn’t over.
To her shock, a mechanical figure appeared at the end of the corridor. Tonot.
She opened her mouth, ready to shout, to let him know where they were, but before she could speak, Reng launched himself at the machine.
She could only watch as he slammed into the synthetic body, toppling it to the floor, tearing into it piece by piece, determined to reach its core. A few vital cables, ripped loose, and the body went still.
Only then did the simulation end. Everything vanished, but the weight on her chest remained. Ela couldn’t process what she had just witnessed. The monster’s attack, yes, that she could accept. But why had Reng killed the werren at the end? Surely that couldn’t be part of standard training.
What possible purpose could a simulation like that serve? And more importantly…was it even right? What would happen if the Circle saw this?
Her stomach turned. And it didn’t help when she looked at Reng and felt only a sad mixture of confusion and unease. She had no idea what to say.
He was still catching his breath, eyes narrowed as he tried to orient himself in the now-empty space. His shoulder, turned slightly toward her, rose and fell in ragged bursts. With the simulation gone, the shadows and the demons dissolved.
“You okay?” he rasped, unexpectedly crouching beside her. His eyes still brimming with concern.
Ela finally managed a breath, but her hands trembled.
“What… what was that?” she whispered, and for the first time met his gaze.
She felt strange. For a brief second, she wanted to throw her arms around him, but then she realized that the Reng kneeling beside her was someone she didn’t recognize anymore. A stranger. She searched his face for something, anything, that might restore her belief that somewhere, beneath the scars and the shaved head, the boy she once loved still existed.
“It’s over,” he said softly, clearly unwilling to talk about what she had just seen.
He gently took her arm to help her to her feet.
“We should get out of here. Before they come up with something else.”
Ela nodded silently. Words stuck in her throat, tangled in the storm of emotion building inside her. She wanted to say something. Something real, something to pierce the silence between them, but nothing came. She simply followed, watching his exhausted steps.
At the exit of the Arena, a werren stood waiting. This time, it was the real Tonot,motionless, cold as stone. His eyes were unreadable, but at the corners of his mouth, there was the faintest trace of satisfaction.
“You were right,” he said with unnatural calm.
“It seems the issue lies not with the implants,but in his mind. He succeeded only with you.”
Ela felt a flash of anger stab through her chest.
“That wasn’t fair,” she snapped, sharper than she’d intended. “That wasn’t training! I saw it! What are you doing to him? And why?”
Her voice trembled with anger, but also exhaustion. Tonot didn’t even blink.
“One day, everything he learns here will be necessary,” he said flatly, his tone so indifferent it unsettled her even more.
“Help him with debriefing. In the meantime, we’ll process the data. Hopefully, we’ll find the key to what we’re looking for.”
Ela stared at him for a long moment, unable to believe his detachment.
“How can you be so… cold?” she burst out. “I thought you took him in to help him, but at this rate, you’re going to kill him.”
Tonot merely tilted his head, just enough to suggest he’d barely registered her words.
“He needs to push harder. If he has the will, he’ll endure. He was created for this purpose, he just doesn’t know it yet. He must find it within himself.”
With that, he turned and left the room.
Ela turned helplessly back to Reng, who had collapsed onto the bench with visible relief. His shoulders sagged, breath coming in ragged gasps. He unzipped his training suit, revealing skin marked by sensor nodes. His hands were shaking with exhaustion, and Ela felt a renewed surge of anger, not at Reng, but at the system Tonot served, the system that was breaking him.
“Wait…let me help you,” she offered, stepping toward him with hesitant care.
She began gently peeling the sensors off, one by one. With every touch, she felt him tremble beneath her fingers. The silence between them was suffocating, thick with words left unspoken.
“I’m worried about you,” she finally said, breaking the tension.
Reng lifted his head. His eyes were clouded with fatigue and confusion.
“For a moment… I thought you were just another hallucination from the sim,” he admitted, his voice low.
“I wouldn’t blame you. But no…I’m real,” she assured him softly.
Her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder.
“I still can’t believe you’re here. With me. For so long I thought you were dead. They told me they found your kernal torn apart in the Vrchy. No one believed you survived.”
Reng exhaled slowly and looked down.
“That was the foreman’s idea. At Kalen’s farm,” he said bitterly.
“They needed me with the herd. And they couldn’t say no to Noel. So they staged my death.”
Ela gave a faint smile.
“That was cruel,” she said. “But… clever. Considering the situation you were in.”
Reng shook his head.
“For a moment, it seemed like things might actually work out… and then I screwed it all up again.”
Ela nodded. She had read the PDC report, she knew exactly what he meant. That foolish stunt in Oko Lahab had nearly cost him his life.
“Maybe it’s what Fate intended,” she offered lightly, trying to soften the edge. But one look at his face told her it hadn’t worked.
“It’s easy to blame everything on Fate,” he snapped quietly, anger curling in his voice.
“But did Fate want this? Me ending up like this?”
Ela frowned.
“I know it feels like a nightmare now, but believe me—this project is more than it seems.”
“You say that like someone who doesn’t have a pile of junk wired into their body that they never asked for,” he shot back. His tone was sharp, but Ela didn’t take it as an attack, just another glimpse of his pain.
“I don’t,” she admitted softly. “But the time will come when people admire you for it. You’ll be heroes.”
“And who the hell believes that?” he scoffed, bitter.
“I do,” Ela whispered.
She wanted to embrace him, but knew it wouldn’t be right. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bracelet.
“I wanted to give you something back,” she said gently, placing it in his hand.
“I’ve kept it for you… for a while. I hoped it might bring you a little comfort.”
Reng stared at it like he was seeing it for the first time. His fingers closed around the woven threads, but he didn’t put it on. He simply placed it beside him.
“Thanks,” he murmured, voice low and hollow. “But we both know… we’re in different worlds now.”
Ela felt the weight on her chest deepen, something she couldn’t shake.
“You’re right,” she said after a pause. “Maybe you should throw it away. I wouldn’t blame you.”
Reng glanced at her, then gave a small nod.
“Maybe I should.”
She wanted to say something else, anything. But honestly, she had no idea what. No magical phrase could breach the wall between them. Maybe there was a spell to recover what had been lost between them, but if there was, she didn’t know it.
Ela took a deep breath and looked at his back, hunched, turned away from her. Then, quietly, she turned and walked to the exit, leaving him alone.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Another barrier between them.
And suddenly, she felt both relief that the conversation was over, and the ache of losing something she could never get back. Confusion. Hope. It all churned inside her, tightening like a knot. She searched for something to hold onto, anything to help her move forward. But instead, the tears finally came.
The tears she had held back for so long broke through. She slid down against the door, rested her head on her knees.Grief crashed over her like a wave, sweeping away everything in its path. And she let it.
Let it cleanse her.
After a while, she lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen, but her mind a little clearer. She knew the world wouldn’t stop. She had to get up. Had to go on. But just for this one moment, she allowed herself to be who she once was.
Fragile.
Human.
Just Ela.
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