The sky over Outer Provision Camp 70 was clear, pale, and dry—no clouds, no shade. Just the hard light of morning pressing down on the open ground.
"Kev, if you don't get up, I swear I'm throwing you over the wall," Raith grumbled, arms crossed, standing beside the bunk with his boots already laced.
"Mmh… five more minutes," Kev mumbled from under his blanket, face buried in the pillow.
"He slept like this through the alarm," Dane said, walking past. "I even used fire. Barely made him flinch."
"Fire?" Raith raised an eyebrow.
"Just a little," Dane smirked, already fully dressed.
"Well, it's actually a good idea." Raith didn't waste more time.
With one arm, he activated his Mark and scooped Kev off the bed like a sack of rocks. "You leave me with no choice, Kev."
"Wha—hey! I'm up! I'm up!" Kev shouted as he flailed.
"Too late," Raith muttered, walking out the door with Kev still hanging over his shoulder.
They met up with Mira and the Kid outside the dorms. Mira looked amused. The Kid tilted her head at Kev's upside-down form.
"He's such a trouble, right?" Mira asked flatly.
"I'm not," Kev said weakly, feet barely touching the ground.
He was then put down by Raith.
The five of them joined the others who were already gathering in the Drill Yard. A few people yawned like they'd just rolled out of bed.
Others stood stiff, nerves obvious in how they shifted their weight or clenched their fists. However, some people seemed too relaxed.
Their arms crossed and eyes half-closed. The air around them seemed as if they were confident that they would pass the test.
"Look at that guy... He looks like he's posing for a poster," Kev mumbled, nodding at a tall Tuner two rows ahead, standing with perfect posture and zero emotion.
"Definitely not from the Outer Region," Mira said under her breath.
"Not really," Dane chimed in. "Some of them were late awakeners from Great Families."
"Wait. What is with this Great Families thing? Who are they?" Kev asked.
Dane looked around before turning to the group once again. "Well, the Great Families can be considered as the 'rulers' here in the Outer Region."
Kev nodded before asking another question, "So, who rules the Middle and Inner Regions?"
"Grand Families," Dane replied.
Raith listened quietly. He had long known about the hierarchy in the Haven Bastion. So, he chose to observe his surroundings more.
From the bits of conversation floating around, he picked up on it too—not everyone here was a late awakener like them that came from the Outer Wards.
They were the types who didn't grow up in overcrowded Wards or have to mine until their fingers bled. Kids with real beds, maybe even private tutors.
But honestly? Raith didn't care where they came from.
He just kept scanning the yard—counting exits, watching the officers, memorizing faces.
It was exactly what Raith expected—no gleaming towers or sleek platforms. This was rough steel and compacted dirt, edged with thick barriers and tall wire fences.
Observation towers overlooked the yard from each corner. A narrow strip of faded paint divided the testing lanes across the cracked pavement.
The Drill Yard was wide—almost the size of a small stadium—and divided into fourteen marked zones. He wondered what the zones were for.
Right now, more than a hundred Tuners were standing there, newly registered ones. Everyone wore the same black training suits no matter what their background was.
"Everyone looks strong," Raith muttered.
"Don't feel that way," Dane said.
The rest of the group including Raith turned to look at him.
Dane smiled before adding, "They were born in a much better environment than us. They're just more privileged but that doesn't mean that they're better or stronger."
Somehow, what he said made sense.
"Yeah. If we're talking about strong, never forget what your Mark represents," Mira chimed in.
Raith smiled. That was true. He should be confident in his power.
The others continued chatting while waiting for the officers to set up things for today's tests. There was a chamber with panels in front of them.
A few minutes later, an officer sounded the siren. Everyone stood at attention.
"First test—Force Adaptability," one officer announced through a wall speaker. "One by one, you will be called forward."
Everyone seemed nervous.
The soldier added, "You'll step into the testing chamber, tell us about your Force, activate it, and demonstrate a basic projection of your Force."
"It can be an attack, defense, or anything related to your Force. Just release your strongest skill on the panels. The system will measure the output, control, and your physical compatibility," he continued.
Nobody said or asked anything because it was the unwritten rule here in the camp. You couldn't talk unless you were allowed to. Besides, the briefing was clear enough.
"There's a minimum threshold but we won't explain it in detail. The thing that you need to know, green means pass, and red means fail. Fail here means that you'll be eliminated right away."
There was no encouragement. No drama. Just the facts.
Without wasting any more time, the first name was called and he was the first Tuner to fail.
Everyone was stunned. He had demonstrated a pretty solid attack using his Force of Metal. He had shot a metal bullet that formed from the compressed Flux at the tip of his finger.
"What? That's considered a fail?"
"Is the threshold too high?"
The officer in charge looked at them, smirking, and asked, "Why? Are you questioning the way we do things here?"
Nobody dared to say anything. Not with their only shot of paving a brighter future on the line.
"If you've nothing more to say, let's continue with the test. Don't waste our time," he said in a sharper tone.
A few more were tested after that. Some passed easily, especially the Tuners with the Forces of Elements. Their Forces sparked to life with rough confidence, enough to turn the light green.
But not everyone with such a Force made it.
One girl stepped forward, eyes wide, trembling. Her Force—an ice-based emission—barely left an impact on the panel.
The light turned red. Her face paled as she was escorted out, with no second chance.
Another boy tried to summon lightning. The lightning cracked around his hand, but when he released it, it fizzled mid-air. He clutched his wrist in pain. Failed.
"Man… I thought it'd look cooler than that," Kev said, rubbing his neck. "Kinda glad I ended up with Rock Hardening."
The others laughed—quiet, strained—but it helped break the tension for a moment.
Still, the weight of it all hadn't really left. Not with the number of Tuners already being escorted away in under thirty minutes. Too many. Too fast.
Failing here meant going back to being nothing. That was what everyone was thinking even though they didn't say it out loud.
From across the Drill Yard, a pair of eyes lingered on Raith's group—calm, observant.
Watching.
If only they knew what was coming.