Chain 54 Camp.

The enormous transport carrier rumbled to a halt, shaking the ground beneath it. A loud hiss filled the air as the steel doors slid open, letting bright sunlight flood in.

Ares adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and stepped forward with a crowd of restless youths.

The moment his boots touched the ground, a gust of fresh air hit him, and for a moment, the enormity of what was ahead made his stomach flip. 'Chain 54 Camp.'

Ares took in the view and felt both overwhelmed and awed. The camp was unlike anything he had imagined.

Hundreds of sleek, steel-plated bungalows spread out in perfect rows across the sprawling terrain, forming an intricate, almost majestic layout.

The buildings weren't simple houses. They looked like mini military bases themselves, perfectly aligned, forming a grand, ordered pattern across the camp.

Roads ran between them like veins, flanked by towering lights and security towers that hummed with energy, standing guard over the newly arrived youths.

Everything about the place screamed discipline and power.

Ares glanced around. "So this is Chain 54 Camp," he muttered under his breath.

A chain was a cluster of ten bastions, each a powerful military hub linked together by proximity and governance.

The name "Chain" was fitting; each bastion was a link, and together, they formed an unbreakable front that fortified the military zones across Earth.

Chain 54 was one of the many such camps operated by the ZMA. This was no private institution. The ZMA was the world's military arm, maintained and funded by a coalition of global governments to protect humanity from external threats.

Every youth with a high enough Bloodline grade would be sent to one of these camps to train, preparing them for further education in one of the Bloodline Academies.

And now, Ares Solovar was here along with hundreds of other youths from different Bastions of the country.

"Form ranks! Move forward! Keep the line steady!"

A booming voice from one of the officials snapped the youths to attention. Ares joined the mass, filing along with the others as they followed an official to god knows where.

After walking for almost 30 minutes, they finally arrived at their destination: The Hall of Genesis.

It was a colossal dome-shaped structure at the heart of the camp. It looked like a fortress built by machines from the future. Its smooth, black surface crisscrossed with glowing blue lines that pulsed with energy, almost like the heartbeat of the camp itself.

This Hall was where the youths would receive their orientation and the camp captain's speech, marking the official start of their training.

Ares shuffled along with the crowd, his mind half on the incredible sight before him and half on the troubling notification in the corner of his vision:

[Bloodline Absorption: 70%.]

He clenched his jaw. The process had picked up speed recently, which was a good sign, but 70% wasn't enough.

70% couldn't save his life. He needed it to be at 100% and fast. The fact that he had no idea when exactly he would be taking the test made this situation even more troubling.

He glanced ahead as the Hall of Genesis loomed larger with every step.

The entrance was wide enough to accommodate the flood of new arrivals, and it seemed as though the whole world had converged within these walls.

Inside, the hall was vast, with high ceilings and walls lined with huge displays flashing information in glowing letters.

Thousands of youths gathered in awe, their footsteps echoing across the polished floor. Ares felt a flicker of unease as he scanned the crowd.

He hadn't expected so many people to be present in just one camp. There were thousands of youths from all across the country.

Bastion after bastion had sent their best, and now they all stood together, a sea of hopefuls eager to carve out their futures.

Conversations buzzed through the air as youths began mingling, exchanging stories, eyeing each other with excitement and, in some cases, with suspicion.

Some were laughing, others looked nervous, and a few stood with their arms crossed, already sizing up the competition.

Everyone here was a potential rival. Ares knew that much. The competition would be fierce. Each of them had potential, and every one of them was determined to prove they were among the best.

Boom!

Suddenly, the air shook with a deafening boom.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as a massive, shimmering bubble appeared high above them.

Inside the bubble floated a man, his figure clear and commanding despite the distortion of the sphere.

He stood tall and straight with his silver hair cropped short, and his sharp, angular face marked by scars that spoke of battles fought and won.

His eyes which were piercing and golden, swept across the crowd with calm authority, making every youth in the hall feel like they were being measured and judged in a single glance.

He wore the usual dull grey uniform of the ZMA with glowing emblems stitched along the chest and sleeves—the symbol of a camp captain.

The crowd fell into absolute silence, waiting for his words.

The captain's voice was low, steady, and amplified so every person could hear it clearly.

"Welcome to Chain 54," he began. "Your training starts now. Some of you will rise. Most of you will fall." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if daring anyone to question him. "But only those who rise will earn a chance to join the Elite Camp."

The moment he said those words, the room shifted with excitement.

'The Elite Camp.' Ares's heart pounded in his chest. Everyone knew what the Elite Camp meant. It was the gateway to the top five Bloodline academies on earth.

Only those who made it into an elite camp would have a chance to apply. The rest... would be left behind.

Bang!

The captain didn't wait for questions. With a final glance over the crowd, he nodded and vanished, the bubble collapsing into a spark of light.

The moment the captain disappeared, another figure stepped onto the platform at the centre of the hall.

She was tall and broad-shouldered, with auburn hair pulled back into a tight braid. Her expression was sharp and unforgiving, the kind that warned everyone not to test her limits. She wore a similar uniform, though without the glowing emblems of a captain.

"Listen up!" she barked, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a whip. "I am Vice-Captain Lena Axton. From this moment on, you belong to Chain 54. Everything you do here will be monitored and evaluated. Your performance will decide whether you make it into the Elite Camp—or if you stay back, forgotten."

Her gaze swept across the crowd like a hawk searching for prey. "You'll be divided into squads, and from today onward, there are no excuses and no second chances. If you want to succeed, you fight for it. If you want to rise, you earn it."

Ares swallowed hard. The vice-captain's words sent a chill through him. There was no safety net here.

No room for mistakes.

Every day would be a test, and only the best would survive.

Vice-Captain Axton continued. "Orientation starts now. Find your squads. Move it!"

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