Trainer Vincent stood in the center of the training mat, rolling his shoulders as the last echoes of the fight faded. Around him, five unconscious bodies lay motionless, their breaths steady but slow. The only one still on his feet was James.

  The boy’s chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths. His arms trembled slightly, his stomach still tight from the blow Vincent had delivered. And yet, he hadn't fallen.

  Vincent slowly exhaled and turned toward Warden Gregory, who had been watching from the observation deck above. He gestured for him to come down.

  Gregory, a broad-shouldered man with streaks of gray in his hair, descended the stairs with measured steps. His military boots clacked against the floor as he approached, arms crossed, eyes scanning the scene with a cold, unreadable expression.

  Vincent shook his head, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “I have my report,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “And you’re gonna want to hear this one.”

  Gregory arched a brow. “Go on.”

  Vincent glanced down at the unconscious recruits before beginning.

  Evaluation Report

  1. Sam – The Counter-Striker

  Vincent nudged Sam’s shoulder with his foot. “This one’s got fighter instincts. He was the only one who reacted the moment I moved. Didn’t hesitate. That’s rare.”

  Gregory nodded. “And?”

  Vincent smirked. “He blocked my first strike, which means he’s got sharp reflexes. But he’s still raw. His reaction speed is high, but he lacks proper footwork and discipline. That’s why my second hit floored him.”

  He crouched beside Sam’s unconscious form, inspecting his arms. “Good muscle density for his age. If trained properly, he could develop into a close-combat specialist. But right now? He relies too much on instinct. A real opponent would bait him into overcommitting.”

  Gregory hummed in thought. “Potential rating?”

  Vincent shrugged. “B-. He’ll need refining, but if he survives, he’ll be solid.”

  2. Amanda – The Speedster

  Vincent shifted to Amanda next, tapping her temple lightly. “She’s fast. Almost unnaturally so.”

  Gregory narrowed his eyes. “Awakened?”

  “Not yet,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “But the way she moved… it was smooth. Controlled. Like she’s been dodging attacks her whole life. She’s not just fast—she knows how to use her speed properly.”

  He exhaled. “But speed alone won’t cut it. The moment I broke her rhythm, she fell.”

  Gregory nodded. “If she gets an Awakening?”

  Vincent smirked. “If it enhances her speed? B+ potential. Maybe even A-. But she needs combat training. Right now, she’s just fast prey.”

  3. Sophia – The Observer

  Vincent crouched next to Sophia, studying her unconscious face.

  “This one’s different. She doesn’t fight. She learns.”

  Gregory frowned. “Explain.”

  Vincent tapped his temple. “She mimicked Amanda’s movements perfectly. Every dodge, every retreat. It wasn’t instinct—it was calculated. She saw what worked and copied it flawlessly.”

  He crossed his arms. “That kind of adaptability is dangerous. If she learns fast enough, she could predict enemy movements mid-fight. But…” He sighed. “She still fell for the same trap. Memorization isn’t the same as understanding.”

  Gregory let out a small grunt. “How do you rate her?”

  Vincent tilted his head. “B. But if she gets an Awakening that boosts cognitive functions? A-. She could be a tactical fighter or an analyst.”

  4. Jonathan – The Powerhouse

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  Vincent sighed and glanced at Jonathan’s large frame.

  “This one’s a tank. Strength beyond normal for his age. I had to hit him three times to put him down.”

  Gregory raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  Vincent exhaled. “He’s strong, but predictable. His punches had weight, but his movements were too obvious. Against weaker opponents, he’ll dominate. Against skilled ones? He’s just a bigger target.”

  He rubbed his chin. “If he Awakens and gets a strength-based ability? B+. But without that, he’s just brute force. C+ at best.”

  5. William – The Phantom

  Vincent glanced at the smallest recruit, shaking his head.

  “This one was the most frustrating,” he admitted.

  Gregory leaned in. “Why?”

  Vincent smirked. “Because I had to think to hit him.”

  Gregory’s eyes widened slightly. “Evasion?”

  Vincent nodded. “His reflexes aren’t just good—they’re unnatural. He dodged everything. Bent and twisted his body in ways most people can’t. His movements were instinctive, not trained. If I had been using full strength, he wouldn’t have lasted. But in a real fight? He’d be hell to pin down.”

  Gregory rubbed his chin. “Rating?”

  Vincent exhaled. “A-. If his Awakening boosts agility or precognition? A+. He’s the hardest to hit, but also the weakest physically.”

  6. James – The Endurer

  Finally, Vincent turned to James—the only one still standing.

  “This one…” Vincent hesitated, staring at the boy.

  Gregory frowned. “What?”

  Vincent’s voice lowered. “I hit him with half my strength.”

  Gregory’s expression darkened. “And?”

  Vincent clenched his fists. “He’s still standing.”

  Gregory’s gaze slowly shifted to James, who was still trembling but refusing to fall.

  Vincent took a deep breath. “He took a direct hit that should’ve knocked him out cold. His body absorbed it, endured it, and stayed upright. That’s not normal.”

  Gregory’s voice was quiet but firm. “Awakened?”

  Vincent shook his head. “Not yet. But his pain tolerance and willpower are beyond natural. If his Awakening enhances his endurance…”

  He looked Gregory dead in the eyes.

  “S-tier potential.”

  A heavy silence filled the room.

  Gregory studied James for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose.

  “Monitor him closely,” he said, voice cold. “If he survives, he might be something special.”

  Vincent nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah. I think so too.”

  [Location: Presidential Office, Abuja, Nigeria – One Month After the First Void Break]

  The air in the room was heavy. Thick velvet curtains muted the harsh afternoon sunlight, casting deep shadows across the long mahogany table where some of the most powerful men in the country sat. The tension was palpable—the kind that made even the air feel dense.

  At the head of the table sat Minister Diwe, a man in his late fifties, dressed in an impeccably tailored dark blue suit. His sharp, intelligent eyes held the weight of a man who had seen too much in too little time. Across from him sat secretary Ikenna Okoye, uniform crisp, a deep frown etching lines into his otherwise stoic face.

  Between them, a holographic display flickered above the table, showing a world map dotted with red markers. Each marker represented a new construction site—facilities rising across the globe.

  Ikenna’s eyes narrowed as he studied the map, his jaw tightening. “This can’t be right,” he muttered, his deep voice laced with disbelief. “The UN… is gone?”

  Minister Diwe exhaled slowly, leaning forward. He steepled his fingers, as if choosing his words carefully. “Not gone,” he said evenly. “Dismantled.”

  Ikenna looked up sharply. “And replaced with this… AUN?” He gestured toward the hologram, his tone edged with skepticism. “Awakened United Nations? A global government?” His brows furrowed. “Who the hell agreed to this?”

  Diwe’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone.”

  Silence.

  Ikenna leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. “Everyone?” he echoed, voice quieter but no less intense.

  Diwe nodded. “Every surviving government. Every major power.” He reached into a folder on the table and slid a document across to Ikenna. The official declaration. The seal of the former UN was still visible at the top—now overwritten by the bold insignia of the AUN.

  Ikenna stared at it, his fingers running over the embossed lettering.

  Diwe continued, his voice calm but firm. “The world has changed, General. You saw what happened during the first Void Break. Governments crumbled, economies collapsed, entire cities were lost in days. No single nation can handle what’s coming next. We had no choice.”

  Ikenna’s hands curled into fists on the table. “No choice?” He scoffed. “And what of sovereignty? What of national defense? You’re telling me we’re just… handing everything over?”

  Diwe leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Sovereignty?” he repeated, voice turning cold. “General, tell me—where was sovereignty when monsters tore through our cities? Where was national defense when our best soldiers couldn’t even put a dent in those things?”

  Ikenna’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

  Diwe exhaled, rubbing his temples. “I don’t like it either, Ikenna,” he admitted, his voice softer. “But tell me—how do you fight something beyond human understanding? We had to adapt. And that means uniting.”

  Ikenna’s jaw clenched. His fingers tapped against the table in a slow, measured rhythm. “And these facilities?” he finally asked. “What exactly are they building?”

  Diwe tapped a control on the table, and the hologram zoomed in—a massive structure rising in the heart of Lagos. Sleek, towering, reinforced with unknown metals. Not just in Lagos, but in Abuja, New York, Beijing, Moscow, Berlin—everywhere.

  “AUN command centers,” Diwe explained. “Military headquarters. Research labs. Training facilities for these… ‘Awakened’ individuals.”

  Ikenna’s brows shot up. “They’re training them?”

  “Yes.” Diwe’s fingers tapped against the table. “They’re the only ones capable of fighting these creatures. Governments are prioritizing them, registering them, arming them.” His voice darkened. “And monitoring them.”

  Ikenna exhaled, shaking his head. “This is happening too fast.”

  Diwe gave a dry chuckle. “We don’t have the luxury of time, General.” He leaned back, eyes locked onto Ikenna’s. “The next Void Break is coming. And when it does…” He gestured to the hologram.

  “These facilities won’t just be training grounds.”

  His voice dropped to a near whisper.

  “They’ll be our last defense.”

  A heavy silence settled between them.

  Ikenna exhaled through his nose, his fingers tightening around the document. Finally, he nodded once. Slow. Begrudging. “Then God help us all.”