Sector B stood in sharp, sterile contrast to the filth of the slums.
The walls were made of polished, seamless metal, and every movement was strictly monitored. Armed guards stood at every intersection, their eyes like glass emotionless and unwavering. Sohan walked forward, keeping his head down and his pace steady, blending into the line of hopefuls without drawing a second glance.
No one talked here. No one caused trouble. Even the most desperate scavengers understood that this place held the keys to their future. As the line moved, Sohan realized his assumption had been wrong. There was no assignment counter, no interview, and no choice. There was only entry.
So it's random, he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. Fate truly does hold the dice in this world.
"Next," a guard barked, motioning him forward. A quick biometric scan followed a flash of red light across his retinas. "Temporary access granted."
The guard didn't offer a name, a map, or a destination. He didn't need to. In a few minutes, Sohan would be beyond the reach of this world's bureaucracy.
Sohan walked into the main hall. Rows of sleek, white capsules filled the room like high-tech coffins. People lay inside them with a variety of expressions: some paralyzed by terror, others trembling with a manic, desperate excitement.
"In," a staff member commanded, pointing to an empty unit.
Sohan nodded and climbed into the capsule. The padding was cold against his back. As the lid began to hiss shut, a heavy silence descended, followed by absolute darkness. A low, rhythmic hum filled the space, vibrating through his very marrow.
Then came the pull. It wasn't just his body moving; it was as if his consciousness was being unspooled from his brain. He felt himself falling through a vast, shimmering void.
"Link established..." a mechanical voice echoed in his mind. "Random Shelter Assigned..."
Sohan's heart tightened. This was the moment that dictated everything. The difference between a peaceful outpost and a death trap was a single line of code.
"...Steel Armor Shelter."
Before he could process the name, the void snapped. Light exploded behind his eyelids, and a rush of air filled his lungs.
Sohan's eyes flew open. He was lying on a stone floor in a massive, ancient hall. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long, dancing shadows across dozens of people who were sitting up and groaning in various states of disorientation.
Steel Armor Shelter.
Relief flickered faintly in his chest. It was a balanced starting point neither the weakest outpost nor the strongest fortress. He sat up, and immediately noticed the change. His body felt lighter, his senses sharper. Deeper still, the Gene Stone was thrumming with newfound activity. The air here was dense, saturated with a rich energy his body instinctively hungered for.
"So this is the Sanctuary," he exhaled, the words tasting like ozone on his tongue.
Around him, the hall was a chaos of emotion. Some newcomers were weeping with joy, others stood frozen in shock. A loud, boisterous voice cut through the noise from a nearby balcony.
"First-timers! Don't rush out those gates unless you've got a death wish!" A group of veteran hunters above them erupted into mocking laughter.
Sohan ignored the jeers. He stood up, his focus fixed on the massive iron-bound gates at the far end of the hall. They were heavy, silent, and imposing. Beyond them lay the real world a land of creatures, hunting, and the brutal cycle of evolution.
He walked toward the exit, stopping just short of the threshold. He clenched his fist, feeling the steady, controlled pulse of his Gene Stone.
Fate decides where you start, he thought, a faint, dangerous smile touching his lips. But it doesn't get to decide where you end.
Unlike the others, Sohan wasn't gambling. Every step he took from this moment on would be calculated, deliberate, and entirely his own. He looked forward, his gaze sharpening until it seemed to pierce the shadows of the gateway. He was calm. He was focused. He was ready.
"Let the hunt begin."