The cold iron bars bit into Zhun Te's wrists. The stench of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the distant screams echoing through the night. Around him, the other children huddled in silence, their eyes hollow but burning with a shared fear.
They were not prisoners. Not slaves. At least, that's what the soldiers claimed. They were "subjects" — experiments to fuel the ambitions of Caoluan's masters. And tonight, the "Selection" loomed closer.
The guards' footsteps echoed sharply on the stone floor. Zhun Te's heart hammered in his chest as the heavy iron door creaked open. A tall, scarred man stepped inside, his cold eyes scanning the cramped cell. The other children shrank back, but Zhun Te stood his ground, the fire inside him refusing to be snuffed out.
"You're up next," the man said gruffly, pulling Zhun Te roughly to his feet. "The Blood Selection. Survive, and maybe you earn your freedom. Fail, and you're nothing but meat for the arena."
Zhun Te didn't flinch. Freedom. It was a word whispered like a ghost in these walls, but he clung to it like a lifeline.
As he was dragged through the compound, the screams of the others echoed behind him, mingling with the roar of distant beasts in the forest beyond. The air was thick with tension , tonight, some would die, and only a handful would rise.
At the edge of the camp stood the arena : a brutal pit ringed with stone, stained by the blood of countless Hybrids. Zhun Te's pulse quickened. This was the crucible. The test. The beginning of his rise.
He took a deep breath, steel hardening in his eyes. "I will not be broken. I will be more than what they made me."