Prototype Dorian

Part I | 1.

Part I: The Selection

***

Eight days before the Selection

The smoke from my previous shots clears, and I spot three new targets among the trees.

One of them is directly in front of me—lucky me—crouching under a bush while getting their gun ready. The other two are farther, each hiding behind a tree. Their weapons are already prepped and aimed, so they're the bigger problems. I only have a few seconds to get rid of them before one of them shoots me.

My fingers close around the trigger.

Inhale, aim, fire. Shift, aim, fire again.

Both targets fall to the ground. The holographic words, 'Double Kill', float in the sky.

I let out the breath I was holding. Time for the last target.

Shifting my glance back to them, I realize they are still setting up their weapon. I snort. Damn, they're slow. I don't have to aim properly to shoot them right in the head.

The words, 'Critical Hit', glisten above the fallen target. The forest fades into whiteness, marking the end of the simulation.

I read the scores as they appear in front of me.

'Lara Lorensky

Rank: Cadet

Accuracy: 98.5%

Speed: 99.7%

Effectiveness: 91.8%

Total: 96.7%

New personal record!'

"Yes!" I whip the headset off. The vast white space shrinks into a tight metallic cubicle with just enough room for my arms to swing around.

That was a very successful simulation. My aim was superb, and I didn't waste a single bullet. The forest arena is also one of my favorites—the trees that are meant to make it harder to spot targets actually help me focus. I always feel so at peace with all the greenery.

Maybe today's the day I finally clinch the highest score.

I whirl around and dash out of the training cube. My eyes scan the scoreboard on the wall.

'First place: Morgan Sánchez

Second place: Lara Lorensky'

Second place.

Again.

Even after one of the best simulations. Even after beating my personal record.

"Oh, god-fucking-dammit," I mutter as I smash my headset to the ground.

"Warning," a robotic voice booms from my earpiece. "The destruction of any Tower property is a violation under Code 369-1-A."

"Right. Sorry, Rea."

I pick up the headset. There's a minor scratch, but otherwise, it is still intact. I'm sure it still works—this device gets abused way more during the simulations anyway—but I know Rea, my personal Rule-Enforcing AI, errs on the side of caution when warning me.

As I click the buttons on the headset to check its status, a familiar laugh roars next to me.

"Congrats on getting second place again, Lorensky," Morgan taunts.