The Sentinel Integration Program
The sun had barely risen above the glass towers of District G when the gates to the Sentinel Training Compound opened with a low, mechanical hum. Seven figures stood silently at the entrance, each wearing the newly issued training uniform, black compression armor with the silver insignia of the Sentinels emblazoned on their chests. Among them stood Lucian Valenhardt, rank E, clutching tightly to the strap of his duffel bag as he tried to ignore the cold pit in his stomach.
This was it the Sentinel Integration Program. Six weeks of intensive physical, mental, and strategic training designed not only to test, but to break even the strongest of recruits. The final step before officially joining the ranks.
Lucian knew he was the odd one out. He had barely scraped by in the entrance exams after failing three times before. His rank, the lowest among them, had earned him more than just suspicious looks. It had earned him doubt. Whispered jokes. A target on his back.
Beside him, Zhou stretched his arms behind his head with a tired grin. Taller, stronger, and already ranked D, Zhou had passed the trials with ease. His calm confidence was in sharp contrast to Lucian's tense stance.
"You look like you're walking into your own execution," Zhou muttered, bumping his shoulder lightly against Lucian's. "Relax. It's just six weeks of hell. You've lived through worse."
Lucian managed a thin smile. "Easy for you to say. You're not the bottom of the food chain."
Zhou shrugged. "Then climb up. Or punch the ones above you until they fall down. Either works."
The two were interrupted by the sound of heavy boots striking concrete. A woman in a black coat with crimson trim stepped forward, a clipboard in one hand and a cold gaze in her eyes. Her hair was tied in a tight braid, and the moment she spoke, the air shifted.
"I am Instructor Halen. You will address me as 'Ma'am' or not at all. Welcome to your final step before official deployment. Here, your rank means nothing. Your background means nothing. Only results matter."
She walked past them slowly, her boots echoing.
"Some of you will break. Most of you will beg to be dismissed. A few might even bleed for the privilege of wearing that badge. And if you do survive, you might even become something worthy of the title 'Sentinel.'"
She stopped in front of Lucian. Her eyes scanned his file, then him. "Lucian Valenhardt. Rank E." A pause. "You're either tenacious or a fool."
Lucian said nothing.
"Let's find out which."
---
The first week was brutal. They were woken before dawn and ran drills until their lungs burned. They were tested on terrain navigation, forced to memorize enemy profiles while hanging upside-down over pits of cold water, and subjected to psychological simulations that exploited every fear and insecurity.
Lucian struggled more than anyone. He was smaller, less experienced, and had a hard time keeping up with the raw speed and power of the others. Especially when it came to physical trials.
One of the recruits, a C-rank named Vann, made no effort to hide his disdain. "I've seen civvies tougher than him," he sneered one afternoon as Lucian collapsed for the fifth time during weighted sprints.
Zhou intervened more than once, shielding Lucian with quick quips or stepping in to stop the bullying before it escalated. But even Zhou couldn't protect him from everything.
By the end of the second week, Lucian had bruises on top of bruises, and his joints ached so badly he could barely move at night.
He considered quitting.
But every time he closed his eyes, he saw his parent dead body, he saw Gerat. He saw Julian, he saw the monster and the tears in Cecilia's eyes.
So he got back up. Again. And again.
---
Week three brought the first real combat simulations.
They were dropped into artificial biomes modeled after monster-infested zones. Each team had to complete objectives—rescue missions, retrievals, survival runs—while fighting off holographic monsters and rival squads.
Lucian, Zhou, and two others Vann and a C-rank recruit named Rinna were placed together for a forest-based extraction trial.
"Stick to support," Vann muttered as they were briefed. "Don't slow us down."
Lucian clenched his jaw and nodded. He was used to this. But Zhou stepped in anyway. "He may be E, but he's not dead weight. Don't talk like you're already better."
"Because I am better," Vann said flatly.
The mission started smooth. They navigated the terrain quickly, dispatched low-level illusions of beasts, and recovered the injured 'civilian' unit in record time.
But as they moved to exfiltration, the system shifted the scenario.
A simulated Apex-class monster appeared twice the size of the others, and far faster. Panic ensued. Rinna was clipped and thrown into a ravine. Zhou ran to her, pulling her to safety with one arm while fending off the monster with the other.
Lucian froze, memories resurfacing, breath short.
Vann shouted at him to move, but it was Zhou's voice that reached him.
"LUCIAN! Snap out of it!"
Lucian gritted his teeth. He charged. Not at the monster—but at a ledge above it. Using speed over strength, he scaled the rocks and leapt off, slamming down on the beast's head with his training sword. It did minimal damage but distracted it just long enough.
Zhou capitalized on the opening. Together, they took it down. Barely.
When the simulation ended, Instructor Halen reviewed the footage in silence. Then looked at Lucian.
"Not completely useless," she said. "But still too hesitant. Fix it."
---
By the fifth week
Lucian was still there.
He wasn't the best, but he had improved. Faster. Sharper. Smarter.
Still, his stamina lagged behind the others, and it showed.
Then came the endurance trial.
Each recruit was to be dropped alone into a simulated Dead Zone replica. No food, minimal supplies, no communication. Survive seventy-two hours while completing coded objectives. It was designed to test physical and mental limits.
Lucian was the last to be dropped. And when he landed, it felt like everything was against him.
Day one: he failed the first objective due to a misread signal beacon. He spent most of the night freezing in acid rain.
Day two: he fought off a simulated mutant boar with only a broken blade and barely won.
Day three: fever. Exhaustion. He could barely walk. When the extraction came, he was two kilometers off the target zone.
But he made it. Crawled, limped, bled but made it.
---
The final week.
Graduation loomed.
Lucian sat on a bench outside the dorms, wiping his blade. His hands trembled.
Zhou dropped beside him, tossing him a water bottle.
"Still alive," Zhou said. "Honestly didn't think you'd make it past week two."
"Neither did I," Lucian muttered.
Zhou chuckled. "But you did. And some of them even respect you now."
Lucian gave a small smile. "Vann stopped calling me deadweight. That's progress."
Zhou leaned back. "More than progress. You proved them wrong."
Lucian didn't reply. He stared at the horizon.
"I'm not done proving things," he said quietly.
Zhou glanced at him. "You thinking about her?"
Lucian nodded once.
"Then prove it to her. Be the Sentinel that kid from seven years ago needed."