Chapter 2: Seven Days to Survive
Aadi stood beneath the open sky of the Deadlands, the sun burning white-hot overhead. His shirt clung to his skin, soaked with sweat. The dry wind cut like blades across the cracked earth.
He had just one week.
Not some distorted time-bending training arc — not years inside a magical realm where a second stretched into eternity.
No shortcuts. No special favors.
Just seven regular Earth days.
"You sure about this?" asked the Star Eagle clan leader, arms folded across his broad chest. His wings shimmered with golden light in the heat. "This world isn't built for your kind. Seven days is suicide."
"I didn't come here to play it safe," Aadi said.
The clan leader narrowed his eyes. "Then let's begin."
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Day 1: The Weight of Survival
The training started with one rule: No weapons. No magic. No help.
Only the raw basics — survive in the wilds with nothing but your instincts.
Aadi was dropped in the outer desert, alone, with a single task: reach a marked rock formation ten kilometers away before nightfall, where creatures far worse than death prowled the dark.
At first, he ran.
But the heat stole his breath. His shoes burned from the ground. He had no water. His throat dried out like sandpaper, and his vision blurred.
By midday, his knees buckled.
"I can't die. Not now," he told himself, crawling over jagged stone.
He pushed. Harder than he ever had. Every thought of giving up was crushed under the promise he made as a child: Protect them.
He reached the rock by sunset, bloody and dehydrated — but alive.
The clan leader was waiting.
"You've got willpower," he said. "But will doesn't mean anything unless it leads to skill."
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Day 2: Body of Steel
The second day was brutal.
Physical conditioning like he'd never known. The Star Eagles didn't believe in gyms — their method was ancient, primal. Lifting stone slabs bigger than him. Running across shifting sand with weights chained to his arms. Holding push-up positions while flames licked beneath his chest.
His muscles tore.
His skin peeled.
But every time he collapsed, he got back up.
"No one is going to save my family but me," he said through clenched teeth.
By nightfall, he couldn't feel his body. But he had learned how to move with pain — and how to keep going when pain was the only thing left.
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Day 3: Mind of the Hunter
"Strength without control is a liability," the clan leader said. "You need to see — really see."
Aadi was blindfolded and dropped into a cavern of echoes and traps. He had to escape using only sound, air shifts, and instinct.
At first, he failed — again and again. Every misstep led to bruises or burns or being dragged back to the entrance.
But then, something changed.
He stopped listening with his ears and started feeling with his skin. The way the wind curved around stone. The way silence spoke louder than noise.
By the end of the day, he walked out blindfolded — perfectly, without a single mistake.
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Day 4: Lessons in Death
Combat training began.
His opponent: Rukh, a half-lion, half-hawk warrior, 7 feet tall and forged like steel.
"You're not here to win," Rukh growled. "You're here to bleed."
And bleed Aadi did. For hours.
But between the beatings, he learned. How to dodge, how to deflect, how to strike not harder, but smarter. How to use his small size to slip under a guard and hit the ribs, the throat, the nerve points.
By dusk, Rukh nodded for the first time.
"You've got predator eyes now," he said. "You might actually survive."
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Day 5: Weapons of Will
The Star Eagles didn't use traditional weapons. They used bio-linked tech—weapons that responded to the user's energy.
Aadi was brought to a forge built into the skeleton of a giant beast. There, he met Tarn, the clan's weapon master.
"You won't choose your weapon," Tarn told him. "Your weapon will choose you."
One by one, he tried different blades, staffs, gauntlets. Nothing responded.
Then he picked up a spear — crooked, scarred, its metal humming with strange symbols.
The spear lit up.
Tarn stared. "That's a soul-bind. It's accepted you."
Aadi looked at the weapon. It felt like an extension of him — like a pulse in his hand.
"I'll call it Vaayu," he whispered. "The wind that cuts."
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Day 6: Facing the Desert
They took him back to the Deadlands — but deeper this time. Where Sandabeasts roamed, each one as large as a house, moving in packs, led by an Alpha.
"You need to learn how to pick your fights," the clan leader said. "And how to run when fighting isn't an option."
Aadi spent the entire day tracking, observing, hiding, evading. It wasn't just about strength anymore. It was survival as science. He used terrain to his advantage. He tricked beasts into fighting each other. He laid traps from scratch.
When night fell, the Alpha roared from a cliff above, but Aadi was gone — already back at camp.
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Day 7: The Final Test
The sun rose on the last day.
Aadi stood before the clan — bruised, thinner, but eyes sharp and steady.
"This is your final test," the leader said. "Enter the Trial Circle. Survive whatever comes out for five minutes. No help. No breaks. Just you."
Aadi stepped in.
The ground trembled.
From the dark, a massive figure emerged — a simulation of the Emperor Beast, the deadliest creature in the Deadlands, forged by ancient magic.
The battle began.
It wasn't clean. It wasn't pretty. But Aadi moved with precision. Every strike was a calculation. Every dodge, a gamble.
Blood flew.
The five minutes passed.
When it was over, Aadi stood in the center, chest heaving, spear cracked, but alive.
The clan leader smiled for the first time.
"You're ready."
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Next: Chapter 3 – The Battle for the Central Island Begins