The Adaptation Day

Part 1: The Android and Initiation

The morning patrol's footsteps had barely faded when a new sound echoed through the corridor. More mechanical. More rhythmic. Arthur and Oscar exchanged glances, the air crackling with electricity. Room 324's door slid open, revealing a T-7 service android, its luminescent green eyes piercing the dim light. Its rigid posture contrasted sharply with the exhaustion weighing down Arthur's shoulders—tall and massive, his 70% augmentation hanging on him like invisible armor.

"Agents H-24-A and O-24-A. First day of integration, Level 24. I am your orientation guide." The android's voice droned, monotone and soulless.

Oscar slipped into his sneakers in a flash, his seventeen-year-old face bright with barely contained curiosity. Arthur hadn't removed his shoes since arriving two hours earlier, as if stopping might tip him over the edge.

"First, familiarization with your quarters," the android declared, pivoting toward the wall beside the bunks. "Your magnetic cards unlock personalized spaces."

Arthur pulled out his card and waved it over an invisible scanner. A section of wall slid away with a pneumatic hiss, revealing an immaculately organized closet: three identical white t-shirts bearing the NeoThread logo—a stylized thread forming an infinity symbol—three pairs of UrbanCore jeans with reinforced seams, and black Velocity Prime sneakers, their side strips pulsing green in sync with the corridor's neon lights.

"Multinational corporations fully sponsor Level 24," the android explained. "In exchange, maximum exposure during orbital broadcasts. Each champion is a living billboard."

Oscar, card in hand, opened his own closet. Same contents, but with additions: PureGlow bottles—moisturizer, anti-fatigue serum, artificial UV protection—a ChromaShine hair kit, and an Ascend cologne in an angular bottle. He grabbed the cologne, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Like the stars before the Convergence. K-pop, Thai dramas... I'm gonna be an idol, right?"

The android tilted its head. "Accurate comparison. Champions generate 47% of AVABase revenue through advertising contracts. Your image is calibrated to captivate the masses."

Arthur stared at the clothes, tailored to his exact measurements. They knew I was coming. "Official uniform," the android indicated, pointing to a separate hanger. A fitted black jumpsuit, reflective green bands, rigid Mandarin collar. Alexandrei's silver lion head gleamed on the shoulder, embroidered with surgical precision.

"Put them on. We continue."

In the sanitary alcove, the android pointed to the shower. "Cleaning station. Water enriched with nano-sensors for real-time epidermal analysis." Then the toilet. "Biometric collection system. Fluid analysis to adjust your nutrition."

Oscar frowned, his blond curls falling over his forehead. "Even our shit's a spy?"

"Resource optimization," the android replied, emotionless. It pointed to a brush. "Mandatory brushing, morning and evening. Collected hair for continuous DNA analysis. Early detection of mutations, cellular stress, hormonal imbalances."

The android indicated a metal block on the wall, a hand imprint carved into its center. "Mark-XII Cellular Regenerator. Accelerated tissue reconstruction. Place your hand in the imprint, feet on the sensors. A touchscreen displays the duration prescribed by your supervisor."

Oscar swallowed. "What's the catch?"

"Underestimating compromises recovery. Overestimating causes unnecessary pain. Level 8 on the standard scale, proportional to duration." The android tapped the wall, a holographic screen displaying: DURATION: 00:00 - AWAITING SUPERVISOR PRESCRIPTION.

"During regeneration, your emotional indicators"—it pointed to their wrists—"enter neutral mode. White color. Extreme pain corrupts readings. Normal and expected."

Oscar stared at the machine, eyes wide. "We relive our wounds... backwards?"

"Correct. Tears, fractures, contusions—reconstructed in reverse order. Supervisor Alexandrei is renowned for his precision. Some say he can assess damage with a single glance."

A hiss interrupted his thoughts. A slot near his closet lit up, ejecting a black tablet that clattered to the floor. "Your daily itinerary," the android explained. "Missions, schedules, locations. Updated every morning at 5:30."

"Store them in your uniform's inner left pocket. Mandatory at all times." The android pivoted toward the door. "Follow me. Supervisor Alexandrei awaits."

Part 2: Facing the Tamer

Office A-7 dominated a corner of Level 24, its glass walls revealing AVABase's mechanical entrails—a labyrinth of pipes and green lights. The android abandoned them at the massive door.

"Enter."

The voice, deep and ragged, passed through the steel as if it didn't exist. The door slid open.

Alexandrei stood with his back to them, facing a wall of surveillance screens. His silhouette—seven feet tall, shoulders built to carry worlds—filled the space. When he turned, Arthur, despite his 70% augmentation, suppressed a step back. The Tamer's face was a map of wars: three parallel scars, like claws, slashed across his left cheek. His right eye, a combat implant, gleamed with metallic light. But it was his gaze, piercing as a blade, that froze the blood. Steel-gray hair cropped short, three-day beard immaculately groomed, he looked fifty but radiated raw power.

"H-24-A. O-24-A. My new recruits." Not a smile, just a growl.

He rounded his desk—a black metal slab, austere—and approached, each step a hammer blow. He stopped before Oscar, towering over him. The kid, with his child's face and blond curls, suddenly looked tiny.

"Forty percent augmentation." Alexandrei's voice rolled like thunder. "Katherine thinks you have potential. I see a sparrow in a lion's cage."

Oscar lifted his chin, his green eyes defying the storm without flinching. "Sparrows fly faster than lions run." His bold retort earned an imperceptible raised eyebrow from Alexandrei.

He pivoted to Arthur, his hybrid blue eyes meeting the Tamer's implant. "Seventy percent. Transferred for insubordination." A sneer twisted his lips. "Ava wants to break you. Katherine wants to save you. Me?" He leaned in, his hot breath brushing Arthur's face. "I think you're a grenade with the pin pulled."

He returned behind his desk, tapped a holographic screen. Their files floated in the air, lines of data dancing like chains. "I spent the night dissecting your profiles. Two anomalies in the same room. Coincidence?" His gaze pierced Oscar. "I don't believe in coincidences."

With a sharp gesture, he closed the holograms. "You'll be evaluated separately. According to your... peculiarities."

He pointed at Arthur. "You, extensive psychological assessments. Your problem isn't your strength, it's your obedience. Or rather, its absence. We'll see if you can learn without being reconditioned."

Then Oscar. "You, contaminated zone. No equipment." Arthur flinched, but Alexandrei ignored it. "If you're worth more than your percentage, you'll survive. If not..." He shrugged, a gesture cold as death.

"But first..." Alexandrei approached Oscar, too close, and sniffed—literally—an animal gesture that made Arthur tense. "Interesting. You smell... different. Not the usual forty percent stench."

Oscar remained frozen, but his shoulders tightened. Arthur caught the tension, his weapon instinct ready to spring.

"Know why they call me the Tamer?" Alexandrei returned to his desk, a carnivorous smile on his lips. "Because I break wild beasts. I shatter them, forge them into weapons. Some survive. Others..."

He pulled two black badges from a drawer and tossed them. Arthur caught his with precise movement. Oscar, clumsy, let his fall and bent to retrieve it, his cheeks flushing. Alexandrei chuckled. "A sparrow, huh?"

"One last thing." His voice grew darker. "This forced cohabitation, this... synergy they're imposing on you... Katherine's playing a game. I don't know what yet, but I'll find out."

He turned to the screens. "Get out. Your evaluations begin in thirty minutes."

At the door, his voice pinned them in place. "Oh, and boys? In my teams, we survive together or die alone. Your choice."

The door closed with a definitive steel clang.

In the corridor, Oscar exhaled loudly, his blond curls falling into his eyes. "He knows."

"He suspects," Arthur corrected, his tone dry but his blue eyes softened by Oscar's glow. "Not the same thing, kid."

They looked at each other, suddenly understanding Katherine's gamble. She hadn't just put them together. She'd thrown them into the arena, with the Tamer as their first opponent.

"Meet up after?" Oscar asked, his voice tinged with unexpected vulnerability that squeezed Arthur's heart.

"Cafeteria. Noon." Arthur nodded, his armor cracking just enough to let a smile through.

They separated, each toward their trial, unaware that in his office, Alexandrei was already watching their vital signs on his screens, a calculating smile on his lips. Katherine, old friend, what are you scheming with these two?

Part 3: Katherine's Intervention

Katherine paced the command office, her hair clips catching the neon lights like shards of defiance. Alexandrei watched from his chair, motionless, a predator conserving energy. He was waiting for me. He knew I'd come.

"I expected you, but not this soon." His voice was an amused rumble.

Katherine stopped, jaw clenched. Show nothing. Especially not to him. "Spare me your sarcasm, Alex. Where's Oscar?"

She swept the office with her eyes, searching for surveillance screens. Green lights danced on the monitors, tracking every pulse, every step.

"Contaminated zone." Alexandrei swiveled in his chair, satisfaction gleaming in his metallic eye.

"With what equipment?"

"None."

Katherine slammed her palms on the desk, her nails digging into the metal. He'll kill him. That's what he does—break to rebuild. "Have you lost your mind?"

"He has a brain. That'll do."

"He's human!" Her voice cracked, a stifled cry.

"Augmented to forty percent, Kath. Stop coddling him like a child." Alexandrei rose, his crushing presence filling the room. An S-hybrid, built to dominate.

Katherine didn't step back, her eyes blazing. He doesn't know what Oscar can do. Good. "He wasn't ready for this level."

"Ava underestimates her toys. She won't destroy her new pawns—especially not after you brought them together." His tone was heavy with implications.

Katherine held his gaze, her heart pounding. He suspects something, but has nothing concrete. Perfect. "I have to go."

Alexandrei nodded, escorting her to the door. Their footsteps echoed in the silence. "You're playing a dangerous game, Kath."

She didn't answer, walking away through the nearly deserted corridors, the echo of machines her only company. He's ruined my day... But a fleeting smile touched her lips. Let the game begin, Alex.