A NEW BEGINNING

Excerpt from the Analysis of the Institute for Psychophysiological Research (internal document, strictly confidential)

Substance code: Mobzar

Authors: Team of Doctor Larnet

Date: Day 51 of Sowingdays, 382 years since the Awakening of the werrens

Chemical Structure and Principle

Mobzar is derived from neural enhancers developed for werren hybrid processes. The base compound (referred to as MZ-radium) expands synaptic transmissions and induces a state of hyper-reflexivity. In a controlled environment, it was assumed that the effects would enhance combat abilities, thus replacing standard medical stimulants.

Short-term Effects

Increase in muscle performance by 12–20%

Acceleration of reaction times by up to one-third

Temporary suppression of pain and exhaustion

Emotional flatness: at peak mobzar levels, anxiety or fear disappears, with a dampening of moral inhibitions

Long-term Consequences and Risks

Empathy suppression: with repeated use, there is a noticeable shift in the perception of social stimuli; the individual shows reduced emotional responsiveness and may act more coldly even toward close ones

Addiction: higher doses display undeniable signs of psychological and partially physical dependency; the user quickly increases the dose to achieve the same effect

Cognitive breakdown: in extreme cases, there is a decline in mental stability, manifested by acute paranoia or unpredictable outbursts of aggression

Dosage and At-Risk Groups

The original concept involved dosing under supervision, preferably in combination with neuroblockers designed to prevent gradual degradation of brain synapses.

In practice, however, mobzar is often applied without proper control. Particularly at risk are Modificants – the synergistic effect with their enhanced physiology increases the danger of psychological collapse.

Conclusions and Recommendations

Records show that mobzar should remain exclusively an experimental drug or stimulant for marginal military situations. Any expansion beyond a strictly regulated area endangers the stability of the individual and directly increases the risk of socially dangerous behavior. The Institute therefore strongly warns against uncontrolled use of the substance among the general population and recommends further research in the area of mental shields or dampening additives.

Reng, the Beacon, training arena

He stood alone in the middle of the training hall, his fingers nervously tapping a silent rhythm against his thigh. He tried to release the tension that had settled deep in his body, but he knew he was not succeeding. Ela would definitely notice. He did not believe his lies about being fine would satisfy her. And besides, she was right when she said that Borin had not been his friend for a long time.

That cocky boy who had once saved him on the Hills had changed. And not just a little. He had become a Modificant. Not just in body, but especially in mind. Reng often told himself how symbolic it was that the werren metal shells, pretending to be living beings, adored exactly the kinds of types Borin represented. Or Kresh. Cold-blooded. Pragmatic. Performance above all else. And the Beacon only reinforced it, as if these were the virtues most desired.

Inside its walls, a new army was growing. Hard, brutal, emotionless. People who no longer even thought about where they were headed. Mobzar dulled their conscience. Gave them the feeling there was nothing to regret. Even if they walked over corpses, which was no exception.

“Murdering machines.”

Reng had heard it before. And he had to agree. Units of Modificants sent on a mission were exactly that. Nothing more. And he too, when he went into action following the Beacon’s rules, was no different.

But unlike the others, he was never sure of it. He always doubted. He suspected that it was precisely these doubts that had killed Miren. And maybe one day they would kill him too.

He did not know.

Just like he did not know where he belonged in this world.

He was groping.

And Tonot was not making his search any easier. He placed enormous demands on him. The simulations he prepared for him were markedly different from those the other Modificants went through. He often searched them in vain for a clear goal. Some reason why he stood against the horrors the werren kept serving him over and over. On top of that, Tonot insisted he stay clean. Without Mobzar. And even though Reng was skeptical about the drug, he had to admit that with it, everything was easier. It tuned his body and mind. Helped him sync with his implants. Increased performance. And above all... brought forgetting.

Maybe that was exactly why Tonot refused it.

He wanted him to remember everything.

Back then it had seemed like a cruel whim. But now?

Now he understood why.

It hit him when he faced a real Sleeper. And he fully understood when he sat chained in the dark, drowned in its mind. Only thanks to those hard, strange trainings, both physical and mental, did he not go insane there.

Because he already knew what it meant to endure even at the cost of absolute exhaustion. Without drugs. Without support. Just himself.

Borin finally appeared in the entrance to the hall, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was approaching with that typically cocky smile Reng knew so well. He watched him closely, trying to guess what he would come with today. He wore the same training suit as Reng, except for the Mobzar dispenser attached to his right arm. That did not bode well. Same conditions? Not a chance.

Confident steps revealed that Borin was looking forward to today. Reng suppressed the urge to clench his fists. He did not want to show how much the anger was shaking him. Only a few days had passed since he lost Miren, and what followed suffocated him even more. Yet Borin acted as if none of it had happened. As if the world around them was not burning.

“I keep saying it, you really are indestructible,” Borin threw out instead of a greeting, giving him a once-over. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have bet even a broken aren on you. And look at you... back and still lively. Who would’ve guessed? I figured they’d let you rot somewhere under a hatch.”

“Disappointed?” Reng sneered at him.

“Pfft, of course not,” Borin shook his head. “I’ve known you long enough to miss you. Really. With you, it was never boring.”

Reng stayed silent. If they did not have the history they did, maybe he would have bought it. But now? Empty talk.

“And by the way, that red-haired mediator of yours probably wouldn’t be indifferent either, right?” Borin smirked venomously at him. “Hey, did I tell you how it hit me when I realized who she is? She was strutting under my nose the whole time, and I didn’t know shit. Only now it clicked. But you know what? I don’t blame you. In that hole of yours, she was probably the only girl worth looking at.”

“Leave Ela out of this,” Reng growled.

But before Borin could answer, the hall mechanisms rumbled, and the walls began to move. Reng took a deep breath to prepare himself. He had no idea what Tonot had prepared for them today, but given Borin’s presence, he could not expect anything easy.

He was not wrong.

The room slid apart, and his surroundings smoothly transformed into a challenging obstacle course. High walls with sharp protrusions, treacherously slippery surfaces, rotating platforms where it was easy to lose balance. Reng knew this all too well, but it was the first time he was not alone here.

High above their heads, a point of light flashed. Their target.

Before Reng could get his bearings, Borin was already moving forward. He cursed. That tiny moment of delay gave his opponent a big enough lead that he now had to really push himself. He launched onto the course without hesitation.

He knew this place.

Running, jumping, climbing, scrambling upward with the constant risk of falling. He knew it was a long way down, but he did not think about that. He had never fallen, and he did not intend to start now. Years ago, he would not have dared attempt something like this, but now his muscles worked in perfect harmony, and his enhanced reflexes allowed him to sense every change in terrain.

But today, he was up against Borin, one of the best. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched how swiftly Borin overcame each obstacle. His body performed its tasks like a well-tuned machine, and his mechanical left arm added a precision Reng could never match. Still, he pushed himself, knowing Tonot demanded maximum effort from him.

He focused on the path upward, especially on the place where the routes crossed at one point. Reng clenched his teeth and tightened every muscle. He sensed that if he had any chance of at least catching up to Borin, it would be there. He had it in him, he knew it... or at least he thought so.

But his opponent was faster. And craftier.

At the last second, Borin, instead of continuing forward, slightly turned and gave Reng a light push. Not much, but it was enough. Reng was mid-jump, and even that small nudge robbed him of his carefully planned balance. He tried to grab the sharp edge of the overhang, but his fingers slipped on the smooth surface. The uncontrolled fall that followed could have ended badly, but he was lucky. He struck his shoulder on a lower level below, where he finally managed to grab hold. Pain spread through his arm. Normally, he might have asked for a break, but not now.

He ground curses between his teeth as he scrambled back to his feet to continue. It was already clear he would not be first, but now it was not about winning, it was about getting through the course without any more mistakes. He did not want Tonot to think he could not handle it.

At the top, Borin was already waiting for him. Leaning against the wall, he grinned. “You almost didn’t make it,” he smirked in surprise. “For a moment, I thought you were going to splatter all the way down.”

“That was a cheap shot,” Reng snapped at him irritably, even though he knew this was not about fairness today. Borin was not here to be held back by rules. And Tonot had certainly wanted it that way.

“I’m here to give you trouble,” Borin replied, as if confirming Reng’s suspicion that this was exactly why the werren had chosen him. If he was good at anything, it was this.

Another signal sounded, alerting both Modificants to a change in the environment. Reng braced himself to avoid losing balance as the block they were standing on descended and then stopped again in the middle of the room. The hall around them began rearranging once more, and in front of them appeared a pedestal holding two pistols and two knives with virtual blades.

Reng knew these weapons well. They were not meant for real elimination of an opponent but served to interact with virtual enemies. He could not hurt people in the simulation, but to make the training authentic enough, their suits registered hits through a light jolt. Not too strong, but sharp enough to make them really feel their mistakes.

The surrounding environment, meanwhile, transformed into something Reng had never experienced before. From the dense, wild jungle around them came the smell of dampness, the air was heavy, and at times he felt as if he were breathing underwater. It was clear that this round would be all about overcoming his own discomfort.

Instinctively, Reng reached for the pistol and fastened the knife at his side. The previously loose suit almost immediately became wet and stuck uncomfortably to his sweaty body. It was unpleasant and began to restrict his movement.

“This is going to be fun,” Borin growled, tugging at the stuck fabric of his own suit to adjust it a bit. Then he switched his pistol to the other hand and smiled. “I think this is really going to hurt today.”

Reng chose to ignore him, not wanting to scatter his focus unnecessarily. He had to concentrate. The simulation was not about who had the better weapon. It was about how effectively they could move, think, and react. All of this he had learned in previous trainings, but he must not forget that Borin had nearly a year’s head start in this area. At the pace they were being pushed in training, that was definitely a noticeable advantage.

“So, ready to lose again?” Borin teased.

Reng deliberately turned his head away just as the simulation started.

In the deep jungle around them, the first shadows of opponents materialized. They were fast and deadly. Creatures designed to get right up on them. The squelching sounds of their steps mixed with the dampness of the jungle, hinting at where they were pushing through from the dark corners.

Reng focused and threw all doubts and scattered thoughts aside. Now was the time to let his instincts and the training that had hammered routine into his body take over. So when the first target appeared to his left, he reacted entirely subconsciously. His finger pulled the trigger before he was even fully aware of it. Hit. The target disappeared in a flash of light, but another was already rushing at him. Again, he was surprised how real those bastards felt. Faces, breath, movements. As if they were not virtual but real. They moved with their own precision, and their strategy was flawless, as if it were a real fight for life and death.

Reng wiped his forehead, the sweat stung his eyes, and the air was so heavy he again felt like he was suffocating. The heat around him slowed him down, with each step he felt heavier and heavier.

Meanwhile, Borin had disappeared into the dense undergrowth on the other side. Reng could estimate his position by the sounds of gunfire, and judging by their frequency, Borin was definitely not slacking. He quickly deflected another attack, narrowly dodged a knife that flew past his head. He dispatched the attacker immediately. An elbow strike to the face and one shot to the chest. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed another movement. This time, however, it was not an enemy. Borin had returned, and before Reng could even react, he unexpectedly and without warning shot at him.

Reng’s breath caught as the intensity of the impulse hit from his own suit. The jolt, which normally felt like a sting, now, due to the surrounding humidity, almost knocked him down.

That bastard is serious, flashed through his mind as he watched Borin disappear behind a thick tree trunk, quickly reloading.

“Hit!” he heard Borin shout, maybe in case he had not noticed the shock. From behind cover, Borin followed up his words with more shots, this time aimed at virtual enemies.

Reng clenched his teeth and shook his left hand, which was still tingling from the jolt. It was boiling inside him. He wanted to pay Borin back in kind, but he knew it would not be easy.

“Shooting an ally in the back? Is that your new strategy now?” he shouted loudly while taking cover behind another tree.

“Told you we’d enjoy this, didn’t I?” Borin replied playfully, but his voice had a harder edge now, as if this game carried much deeper meaning for him.

It was a duel. Reng took a deep breath, rose from cover, and dashed forward. Think. You have to pull this off.

When more enemies emerged from the undergrowth, he did not hesitate. He switched the pistol to his other hand and stepped toward them. His body began doing what it had been reshaped for. But this time, consciously. He fell into rhythm. He raised the pistol, neutralized two more opponents, and then leapt into the thick tangles of greenery that snaked all the way to the ground, forming an almost impenetrable curtain.

He sharpened all his senses.

Borin might be faster and more experienced, but he was too straightforward. Reng could trick him, get him into a position where he would have the upper hand. He slipped behind a fallen log and, like one of those whiptails he used to catch as a child, wriggled through to the other side. He was convinced Borin now had no idea where to look for him, and this was confirmed soon enough when he spotted Borin only a few steps away, intently searching through a bush, thinking Reng was hiding there. Reng smirked. This time the move was his.

Getting close was easy, especially since another group of virtual enemies had appeared directly in front of Borin. Nothing that would stop him, but enough to capture his attention, allowing Reng to slip behind him and drive the virtual knife between his ribs. With a mischievous grin, he watched as Borin, hit by the jolt, buckled at the knees and let out a pained grunt.

“This game can be played by two,” Reng smirked this time and shoved him hard, knocking him to the ground.

But before heading for the next cover, he made sure to hit Borin with a well-aimed shot to the right shoulder. He hoped that arm would go numb just long enough to keep him from aiming properly. Then he leapt behind another tree but this time did not stop. He sprinted on to gain time and prepare for the next clash, which he was sure would come. And it would not be easy. Borin would be furious, and it was clear he would be craving revenge for this dose of humiliation.

An unusual silence now settled over the space. Only occasional rustling among the trees and the bizarre screeches overhead, belonging to the virtual jungle creatures, broke through. Reng stayed alert. He knew the simulation could send something worse at any moment. Borin was nowhere in sight, nor could he hear him. The question remained whether Borin was hiding and waiting for a better opportunity or was actively hunting.

A sudden flapping sound made him jerk. He heard panicked screeches above, and in that instant, he spotted Borin. He was moving between the trees so fast that trying to hit him was pointless. Instead, Reng noticed the branches above him, strong enough to hold his weight. He smiled. He jumped, pulled himself up, and within moments was among the treetops. The jungle had more levels than he had realized before. He now moved across the branches, leaping over open spaces and discovering he had found a new dimension of this arena that could give him an advantage.

Borin had no idea he was up there, that was certain. All he had to do was wait. At the moment the Modificant slipped between two trees, Reng jumped from above, slamming him to the ground with his full weight. Borin roared, swiftly turned, and Reng saw in his eyes an unhidden fury. He had been put on his back for the second time. But then Borin did something Reng had not expected. A single movement, and the Mobzar dispenser shot a dose of the drug directly into his system. Borin’s pupils dilated, his nostrils flared in a deep inhale.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Reng swore as he realized how serious the situation had just become.

He knew this was bad. Mobzar would not let Borin judge the situation, which was why they never used it during training against each other. He could not help but recall Zerik’s slashed throat, his own fatal failure under the influence of the drug that had clouded his mind. Back then, he had not recognized that Zerik was no longer a threat. And so, without hesitation, he had killed him. Now, unexpectedly, he found himself in that same position.

Borin might not have any real weapon, but that did not mean he would not kill him barehanded. So Reng did the only sensible thing and tried at least to increase the distance between them, hoping to buy himself some time.

But at that exact moment, the simulation decided to send another wave of virtual opponents. Reng thus unintentionally found himself trapped. His throat tightened as he tried to slip between the tree trunks, attempting to disappear. He could have managed it. If only he did not have Borin at his back.

He was hit between the shoulder blades, then again in the lower back. For a brief moment, it paralyzed him and almost sent him to the ground. With all his strength, he stayed on his feet, tried to push forward, but he sensed that even that small hesitation had slowed him down. Enough for Borin to close the gap. He heard more gunfire behind him. This time not aimed at him. Borin was casually dispatching the virtual threats so he could focus on a single target. Reng.

He leapt over one of the fallen trunks, but another shot took out his leg. He slammed hard onto the damp ground. He tried to scramble back to his feet, all while hearing the Modificant’s footsteps. Fast. Sure. A hunter who had chased his prey down.

Borin stayed silent. In that silence, he was far more disturbing than in all his previous taunts. Nothing remained of his original self. Only his breath, fast and deep, jagged from the drug’s effect, and the confident footsteps right at Reng’s heels.

Reng got back on his feet, trembling, but he kept moving. He had to find an advantage. Anything. Something that would allow him to seize the initiative, because if he let himself be caught, it would be over.

This was no longer training. Not even a game.

He caught a glimmer between the trees. An active simulation point. It might be an exit. Their goal. Or just false hope. But at that moment, it was the only thing he had.

He set himself in motion again. He ran, eyes locked on that single point. He must not stop. He must not give Borin the chance to bring him to his knees.

“Have you realized how this ends?” Borin’s voice called behind him, now completely altered. It sounded hollow and utterly alien. “You have no chance! You are not ready and you never will be!”

Reng looked back just as the figure in the suit emerged behind him, face twisted in a monstrous grin, eyes glassy and expressionless. The first punch landed on his right side, right where he still had an unhealed bruise from Kresh’s fist. The second was aimed reliably at his head. He managed to dodge it, so the arm only struck his shoulder. Even so, it knocked the wind out of him, and sharp pain shot through the places where the blows had landed.

He lost his balance, fell to one knee. Borin stared down at him like a beast that had finally cornered its prey.

He raised his arm for another strike, but suddenly froze mid-motion.

The entire simulation went dark. Not gradually, as was usual, but in a single instant. As if someone had pulled a curtain. The jungle vanished. Nothing remained but the bare floor of the training hall and the lifeless light above them. The sounds fell silent. The temperature dropped. Reng gasped for breath, which was so hard to catch after the cramp in his ribs.

Borin froze in place, then suddenly arched backward, as if something inside his body snapped. His suit crackled as it neutralized him in one long impulse, which this time had to be controlled by someone from outside.

Horrified, Reng watched as Borin groaned, as if someone were burning his brain from the inside. His body trembled, his hands betrayed him, his muscles suddenly stopped obeying. He collapsed next to Reng, convulsing in unnatural spasms. A muffled sound and foam escaped his mouth.

“No… no… that’s not fair…!!!”

“Reng, step away from him!” came Tonot’s voice, and he obeyed.

Tonot came closer and roughly grabbed the trembling Borin by the arm. There was a hiss from the dispenser. Reng still caught a glimpse of Borin’s defiant, angry look before he collapsed unconscious onto the cold floor. Only then did Tonot’s assistants arrive to carry the unconscious Borin to the infirmary.

Reng watched the whole thing silently, but when he was left alone in the arena with Tonot, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand.

“He wasn’t playing fair from the start,” he said with a note of reproach.

“That’s why he was here,” Tonot replied dryly, then turned to him and gave a satisfied smile. “But you did not do as badly as I feared. I would even say you did better than I expected, considering everything you have been through.”

“I could’ve taken him down, if he hadn’t shot himself up with that crap.”

“For him, it was the only way to level the odds. If you had really wanted to, you could have faced him even so. If you wanted to...”

Reng frowned, looking at the werren with doubt. “How?”

“It’s about will. Remember the simulation where Ela got caught up, the one where the Sleeper attacked her? Your stats at that moment were the same, or even better, than when you were on Mobzar. But you weren’t on it then, were you? Fear was enough. Not fear for yourself, you would sacrifice yourself without blinking, we all know that by now. But when it comes to someone you care about, you can summon everything inside you just to save them.”

Reng thought for a moment. He remembered that situation, and Tonot was right. He had been terrified for her, and that feeling had awakened something more inside him. But he had no idea how to get himself into such a state on purpose.

“Maybe it would be better next time to just give me a dispenser like his,” he finally said. “Even the odds.”

“Except you will never use Mobzar again.”

Those words resonated unpleasantly in Reng. He stared in disbelief at the metal face, hoping the werren was joking. But slowly he realized that he was dead serious.

“Why?”

“Your mind is no longer the same after your encounter with Nonon,” Tonot tried to explain patiently. “Those creatures, by what they do and especially how they do it, change the functioning of synapses in the brain. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. In your case, from now on, Mobzar is a huge risk. It would trigger too many unpredictable reactions, and there is a high probability of implant damage.”

“So you’re telling me now that after all this, I’m useless?” Reng frowned angrily.

“No!” Tonot surprisingly almost shouted the word, as if the idea horrified him. “It only means that your path will be more difficult. But in the end, you can be far more successful than those who choose shortcuts.”

“You speak in riddles,” Reng admitted sourly, rubbing the sore spot on his ribs. “Ela might enjoy that, but I don’t understand you.”

“Rest,” the werren urged him. “And in a few days, we will do this again.”

He even sighed, almost humanly. Reng could feel tension radiating from him. As if the werren was in a hurry and things were not going according to plan. If he had been a real person, Reng might have gathered the courage to ask if he wanted to talk about it. But like this? He just shrugged and limped out of the arena. There was no reason to feel sympathy for someone who kept looking for ways to make his life an even greater hell.