Chapter 17: Rule Number One of the Wasteland

The week leading up to the S-Class Grand Trials flew by in a blur of star-iron sparks, foul language, and heavy black-market acquisitions.

By midnight before deployment, the outer sector headquarters looked less like a school dorm and more like an illegal armory run by a paranoid warlord. Wires snaked across every inch of the floorboards, stolen military-grade explosives were stacked high beside the kitchen sink, and the living room smelled faintly of ozone, gun oil, and burning hair.

Phoenix stood in front of the broken full-length mirror, strapping on her custom tactical rig. She wore a sleek black combat top under a reinforced star-iron chest plate, dark cargo pants stuffed with utility pouches, and combat boots steel-plated at the toes for optimal kick-damage. Her long black hair was pulled up tight into a high braid, and her dark brown eyes practically hummed with liquid crimson fire from the fully assimilated S-rank Dragon-Blood Serum.

Toby stumbled out of the back room wearing a high-tech utility vest that looked like it weighed more than he did, holding a strange, double-barreled launcher.

"Boss," Toby panted, wiping grease off his forehead. "I finished the modification on the void-ring launcher. It fires pressurized shock-pylons at three hundred feet per second."

Phoenix’s lips curved into a dark, glorious smirk. "Three hundred feet per second? Toby, you magnificent little psychopath. That’s enough kinetic force to drive a rod straight through a dragon’s tailpipe."

Toby winced, adjusting his crooked glasses. "Please don't say tailpipe like that, Boss. I still have nightmares about what we did to that Ursan."

"Work is work, kid," Phoenix chuckled, slapping him on the shoulder. "Now grab the rest of the EMP charges and the extra caffeine pills. We’ve got a wasteland to raid."

The entrance to Sector Zero was a massive, rusted steel elevator shaft located five hundred feet underneath the academy's sub-basement. The air down here was thick, humid, and smelled like sulfur and rotting vegetation.

All six participating squads stood on the reinforced metal staging platform. Class A’s elite squad—led by a heavily bandaged Lionel and a visibly nervous Travis—wore state-of-the-art exo-armor plates and carried million-credit plasma rifles.

At the center of the platform stood Vice-Headmaster Sterling, clutching a glowing digital scoreboard. He took one look at Phoenix’s squad—consisting of a snarky F-rank Guide in sleeveless tactical gear and an E-rank nerd pushing a modified handcart full of explosives—and his face twisted into a scowl of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Welcome to Sector Zero," Sterling announced, his voice echoing off the damp cavern walls. "The rules are simple: survive seventy-two hours in the corrupted abyss, kill high-grade mutated beasts, and retrieve the S-rank Core at the center of the ruins. The squad with the highest kill score wins."

Lionel stepped forward, glaring at Phoenix through his swollen eye. "Enjoy your little field trip, Wraith. Sector Zero isn't a controlled arena. There are no ref calls down there. You die, you die."

"Lionel, sweetie," Phoenix drawled, taking a slow step toward him and looking him up and down. "You look like a walking bag of purple bruises. If you try to swing a rifle with those busted ribs, your chest is going to collapse like a cheap folding chair. Do yourself a favor and stay near Travis so he can hold your hand when you cry."

"You crazy fucking bitch—" Lionel spat, but Travis instantly grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back, shivering violently as Phoenix’s gaze flicked over to him.

"Sterling," Phoenix called out, flashing a bright, wicked grin at the Vice-Headmaster. "Start the clock before I get bored and decide to test Toby’s new launcher on your hover-car."

Sterling’s jaw clenched so hard a vein popped in his neck. "RELEASE THE ELEVATOR!"

CLANG-CLANK!

The massive steel platform shuddered, the hydraulic locks released, and the giant elevator plunged straight down into the pitch-black abyss at breakneck speed.

Fifty seconds later, the platform slammed into the bottom of Sector Zero with a violent BOOM.

The heavy iron gates collapsed outward, revealing a vast, subterranean jungle under a sky of glowing purple moss. Massive, twisting obsidian trees towered over ruins of an ancient, collapsed city. The air hummed with raw, unrefined monster mana.

Before the other squads could even unholster their rifles or establish a defensive phalanx, Phoenix gripped her custom star-iron spear, kicked open the side gate, and looked back at Toby.

"Toby!" Phoenix shouted over the roaring wind. "Rule number one of the wasteland!"

"Take the loot and fuck up anyone who gets in the way!" Toby yelled back, slinging his shock-launcher over his shoulder with surprisingly badass confidence.

"That's my boy!" Phoenix roared, letting out a wild, intoxicating laugh.

She vaulted over the railing, dropping fifty feet down into the glowing purple jungle like a falling missile, leaving Class A standing on the platform in utter, paralyzed shock.

The S-Class Grand Trials had officially begun, and Phoenix was ready to tear the wasteland apart.