Page 50 of Green Ravens

So they want to make sure I’m not crazy, huh?

“There’ll be no injections or medicine administered. Just a series of questions. And when we’re finished, you’ll be escorted to your new living quarters. I think you’ll be pleased with it. Ourinterior design team has worked around the clock to ensure it’s fitting for a man of your caliber.”

Zorion glared.Of my caliber?What did they think he was? Or better yet, what had they made him into?

He needed those answers and was just waiting for the right time and person to ask the questions.

Yeah, I’ll follow orders…until I find out how to get the fuck out of here.

Without warning, he dropped from fourteen feet and landed soundlessly, but they flinched as if a bomb had detonated.

“Zorion.” Dr. Pheung’s voice was shaky.

Zorion moved forward and Dr. O’Reilley hit a tray of instruments, sending them clattering onto the floor as she leaped out of his way.

The guards shifted, but they didn’t dare show aggression. They were obviously there to make sure he didn’t step out of line, but they just stood there looking too afraid to act if he did.

Zorion turned his back, dismissing them, and walked out of the door.

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

The training facility was ridiculous, state-of-the-art technology. Huge holographic projectors framed the wall. An AI combat system controlled the shifting obstacles, and drone weapons adapted to Valor’s every movement within seconds.

There was a glass-enclosed observation room where the scientists and upper-level management monitored him.

Valor noticed the murderous, scheming, lowlife director was front and center. He hated the way he glared hungrily through cynical, dust-brown eyes that reminded Valor of public restroom paper towels. Stared at him as if Valor were his possession.

“Today, we will be assessing your agility and evasiveness. You still won’t be given a weapon because the objective is to avoid and survive, not battle.”

The lights dimmed and the ground trembled, sending vibrations through his boots. Seconds later, the training warehouse became an urban city illuminated by grimy streetlights.

Valor glanced around at the various dilapidated shops, towering skyscrapers, and twisting alleys.

The simulation was beyond realistic. Broken-down vehicles lined the streets, rats scurried toward gutters, a mangy dog dug through the trash for scraps, and to round off the realism, holographs of residents peeked through their curtains.

Even the air smelled of motor oil and urine.

How much money do these investors contribute?

“Heads up!” a man hollered through an intercom.

A mechanical whirring erupted behind him. A pack of drones, their sleek silver frames glistening under the artificial moonlight, charged toward him. The eyes glowed crimson red as their metal boots pounded the concrete.

Valor felt no fear or panic.

He moved instinctively, his reflexes as enhanced as his sight.

He vaulted over a gutted car, just missing the first drone’s snapping claws. His foot barely touched the hood before he launched into a full sprint. Valor was moving so fast he was frightening himself as the fake world flew by in a blur.

The AI adjusted and the city shifted and had him racing down a narrow alley as new threats emerged from the darkness. He had to evade bullets, camouflaged assassins, falling debris, and unstable ground, just to name a few.

He wondered what kind of warfare the director needed him to fight to go through this amount of training.

Four or five minutes later, as if all the shit he’d dodged wasn’t enough to prove his agility, the lights flickered and the city dissolved into a dense rainforest full of mechanical predators.

Fuck me.

---