Elias speaks, filling the silent squeaking of our walk. “This is a special instruction room. What you experience here stays here—the technology is classified.”
Doors part on a whisper, revealing a vast, empty space. The room must be fifty meters across, with ceilings high enough to house two stories. A continuous sheet of metal makes up the floor, unbroken by seams or panels. All four walls display a dull matte gray that somehow both absorbs and reflects the light overhead.
“This,” Elias remarks with a hint of pride, “is the simulation chamber.”
The deeper I walk into the room, the more detail I notice. Subtle patterns caress the floor’s surface, intricate designs etched at a microscopic level that catch the light when viewed from certain angles. Whatever technology this room contains, it’s far beyond anything I’ve ever seen or read about.
“Today we focus on threat assessment and quick-decision-making. Each of you will enter a simulation individually, where a scenario will test your ability to identify hostiles, protect civilians, and neutralize threats with minimal casualties.” Something pulses in my throat. “You’ll wear these,” he continues, holding a thin metal circle. I cannot tell where it is supposed to fit, but it appears uncomfortable. “They allow you to perceive the simulation as if it were real. You’ll feel impact, temperature changes, and limited pain without actual injury.”
Ah, it’s a necklace of sorts. Its oval shape makes more sense as Elias demonstrates how to wear it, positioning it at the base of his skull, where the mask ends, tucking it under the seat of his throat. I watch closely, memorizing the placement for when my turn comes, desperate to limit the amount of embarrassment I experience in one day.
Vito—the lean, quiet man who demonstrated Clinger abilities during the assessment—is called first, striding to where Elias gestures at the center of the room before settling his device into place. “The rest of you, stand against the wall. You’ll be able to observe without interfering. Your objective is to determine who is hostile and who is civilian,” he continues in a louder voice. “Once identified, secure the civilians and attempt to reason with the hostiles if possible. If that fails, neutralize them. Use everything at your disposal, including your power.”
Elias taps something on a control panel near the door, and the air shimmers. A translucent cube forms, encasing most of the room, a small boundary for us left just outside. We can see through it clearly, but the shimmering is curious…would it zap me if I touched it? Or is it just a visual effect?
Vito’s head begins to turn as if he’s seeing something completely different from the empty room. A large image appears on one surface of the cube, showing us what the recruit must be observing: a bustling street lined with shops and crowds of people moving in all directions.
“The band transmits visual and auditory information directly to the brain,” Elias whispers to our group while staring at the screen. “His body remains here, but his senses perceive the simulation.”
I huff a breath, my lips quirking. The technology is astounding. From my limited knowledge of before the Collapse, nothing this advanced existed. Absurd that the Syndicate has made so much progress in this, even as they’ve regressed in nearly everything else.
We watch as Vito navigates through the simulated street, eventually encountering a standoff in a small plaza. Six men hold weapons on a group of cowering civilians—mostly women and a few children. A hand slides to his hip, drawing a weaponhe does not possess in the real room. He raises some sort of gun—thinner than those the Enforcers normally carry, with a faintly luminescent core visible through transparent chamber sections.
Vito approaches with obvious caution, speaking to who he’s dubbed as the leader of the hostile group. The simulation transmits audio, which only adds to my awe. They demand release of prisoners, threatening to harm the hostages if Vito doesn’t comply, which sours his attempts at negotiation.
I spend a moment observing the women. All apparent civilians. All terrified. All in need of male protection. The imagery is nauseating and reinforces the idea that women are weak, helpless, and incapable of self-defense or authority.
Or autonomy.
Vito focuses so intently on the male leader that he fails to notice one of the female hostages slowly rising from her crouched position. While his attention is elsewhere, she pulls a knife from beneath her torn dress and lunges, slicing Vito’s throat from behind.
His hands fly to the simulated wound, though nothing appears beneath his fingers, the clanking of his gun ringing through the open space. The simulation flickers before dissipating, leaving our group in an eerily quiet space once more. The shimmering cube remains, but there is no longer a projected image along the side.
Vito remains in his position, appearing stunned as his hands continue to press against his uninjured throat. He staggers, and Elias moves forward to steady him before answering the question in his eyes.
“The sensation feels real. The pain registers, but as I said, no physical damage occurs.” He focuses fully on Vito. “What did you miss?”
“I…” The recruit’s voice is hoarse, as if he still feels the phantom wound, before his throat clears. “I didn’t consider the hostages might be plants.”
“Exactly. You made assumptions based on appearances. The woman in the blue dress showed multiple indicators—her positioning, the way she tracked your movements with her eyes, her controlled breathing pattern. All signs she wasn’t the frightened hostage she appeared to be.”
I can’t help but scoff at the irony. A woman deceiving a man by exploiting his assumptions about female inadequacy. The similarity to my situation is too close for comfort. But I’m also disturbed by the portrayal; the deceptive, murderous woman as the ultimate villain in the scenario. It cements the idea that women who don’t conform to expected roles are treacherous and dangerous.
Stars forbid a woman just wants to live in peace without the influence of a man by her side.
I pause. WouldIbe considered dangerous right now?
Vito’s shoulders quake, hands flexing as they press against a wound that isn’t there. The sound of his shaky breaths grates at the inside of my skull, threatening to bury his panic in me the way fear sometimes does when I’m careless. Without thinking, I brush the edge of his emotions, sending out a thread of calm. His breathing evens, shoulders dropping a moment later.
Relief should follow, but it doesn’t. Instead I pause as my forehead creases.Was that really for him…or for me?I didn’t want him to cry. Didn’t want to feel the rough edge of his fear clawing at the barrier of my power. Influencing him was easier, though now I’m questioning if it was the right choice. What gives me the power to manipulate others’ emotions just because the urge strikes me? The thought curdles in my stomach.
Malcom steps into the cube next, facing a completely different scenario—an ambush in a narrow alley. Unlike Vito, he reacts with instant violence, firing at anyone who moves. Hesurvives but fails the mission by killing several civilians in his indiscriminate attack. Elias is calm but firm in his critique, emphasizing precision over brute force.
Pax follows with a hostage exchange gone wrong. He manages better than the first two, using his telepathic abilities to communicate silently with one of the civilians and coordinate an escape. Still, he misses a hidden attacker and takes a bullet to the spine before the simulation ends.
Brenner’s turn involves a complex betrayal scenario where someone posing as an informant leads him into a trap. He responds with calculated violence, using his Charger abilities to electrocute multiple attackers at once. It’s effective but lacks finesse, and Elias notes several moments where de-escalation might have been possible.
Then it’s my turn.
