Chapter 62: Assessment begins[GTG]
The instructor’s grin was a predator’s, devoid of warmth despite the amusement glinting in his eyes. "This," he declared, his voice heavy with sadistic glee, "will be your first official assessment since joining this esteemed academy. Don’t expect any kindness – I made this exam a nightmare, just like I promised." A wide, toothy smile stretched across his face, revealing far too many gleaming teeth. "And to make things even more ’special,’" he added, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "I designed it myself."
He cleared his throat, the cruel amusement still lingering in his voice. "Listen closely, maggots," he barked, his tone shifting from playful to drill sergeant, "because these are the rules. You’ll be graded based on points you gather – no limit there. However, harming your fellow worms is strictly prohibited, and breaking any rule will result in swift and severe point deductions. Normally, you’d respawn near your team after, well, kicking the bucket. But not this time. I’ve made certain you’ll all rematerialize scattered far and wide, completely isolated." With a booming laugh that echoed through the room, he gestured towards the pods, each containing a headgear that resembled a metallic spider clinging ominously. "Good luck, everyone! You’re going to need it."
Ryan, ever the pragmatist, knew this wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Stepping into his transparent pod, he examined the unfamiliar mechanical connectors with a practiced eye. As the headgear settled on his head, the instructor’s voice boomed once more, "You’ll be trapped in this virtual world for a whole month!" A collective gasp rippled through the room. A month of simulated reality was daunting, to say the least. The implications of being trapped in a world that felt real for such an extended period sent shivers down spines.
Ignoring the murmurs of discontent and the prickling unease that settled in the pit of his stomach, the instructor continued. "Time flows differently here. We can’t monitor your every move, but those watches track any rule-breaking. Consider them a constant reminder that Big Brother is always watching, even in a virtual world." The next instant, Ryan’s vision blurred, and he plunged into blackness.
He awoke with a gasp, finding himself amidst the ruins of a city that looked like it had been ravaged by a war. Broken buildings, their skeletal frames reaching for the sky like skeletal fingers, and smashed cars, their twisted metal carcasses littering the dusty streets – a wasteland stretched before him. Wasting no time, he bolted towards a building, his instincts honed by countless hours spent in virtual battlegrounds. He couldn’t afford a repeat of his previous virtual experience, where he’d been woefully unprepared.
With a single, powerful kick that echoed through the desolate cityscape, he shattered the door and entered the derelict house. Plush chairs, now charred remnants of their former glory, and a smashed TV littered with flowers, an unsettling juxtaposition, painted a picture of devastation. He crept towards the window, its shattered glass offering a precarious view of the wasteland. Seeing no immediate threat, he slumped against the rough brick wall, his mind racing with strategies.
One thing was clear – he was utterly alone. Reuniting with his team wasn’t an option, not yet. He had to rely on himself for everything – food, shelter, and those darn points – for the entire month. A wry smile touched his lips. "Well," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet, a spark of determination flickering in his eyes, "at least it won’t be boring."
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