Novel & Cerita Oblivion Destruction Training

Tristan screamed. The white light consumed him. He became a beacon on the front of the train. He didn't just drain the field. He reached out with a tendril of pure negation and touched the gate’s power core from a hundred yards away. OBLIVION. The force field didn't just turn off. The generator exploded. The feedback loop shattered the physical plasteel gate, turning it into a cloud of shrapnel. The Last Rites plowed through the debris cloud. Shards of plastic and metal pinged off the boiler. Tristan and Saoirse ducked low, shielding their heads.

Especially when the creators of the original code were still out there. We spent the afternoon moving through the Citadel, a ritual we called the System Walk. We visited the training pits where Caleb was leading a group of young Betas. In the old world, these sessions were brutal, bloody affairs. Now, they were a dance of precision. Caleb moved with a fluidity that was almost digital, his movements guided by a Sub-Routine of draconic logic that I had quietly installed into the pack’s training manuals.

I was the Beta of Timber, and though I could never fight a battle for Mylo, I had to be capable of defending against any other Alpha. Worst-case scenario training became a regular thing here after Octavia was abducted. Specialized trackers, tactical and field medic training, as well as information gathering which boiled down to torture methods. Our elite guards were highly trained in their specialized field and days like today were used to assess our current guards, see who has potential and in what area for when we move up the next round of guards.

I didn't let that surprise go to waste, and I pushed forward, my movements sharp and efficient as I hacked into the gap they’d left in their line. I finally understood why Liam had made training compulsory for me back then, and I honestly couldn't thank him more in this moment. The hours of repetitive drills and the bruises that had once covered my ribs were the only reason I was still breathing, and I felt a grim sense of satisfaction as I decimated the rogues who tried to close in. They were bigger than me, some of them twice my weight with muscles like corded rope, but they were clumsy and driven by a frantic hunger that made them predictable. I moved between them like a needle through fa

After the Void showed up in our Throne Room, “gentle lessons” went out the window. We had maybe months before it came back. Maybe weeks. The Moonstone was dust and the warning was clear: _The shield must be willing. The blade must be willing. Or all is lost._ So we trained like our lives depended on it. Because they did. *Level 1: Fear Control* We started with Elias. He was 5, but he’d already killed to protect us and he’d stared down the Void without flinching. Time to make that useful.

Sybil said softly, “is where generations trained before the world fell apart.” “Then let’s rebuild it,” Austin said. Training Begins The first days were brutal. Damian drove them hard, beginning at dawn and ending well past dusk. The courtyard became a battlefield where strength was tested and limits were shattered. The first exercise was simple in theory: syncing power. In practice, it was chaos. Hybrids were not made to move as one. Their very nature was contradiction—wolf and vampire, witch and god, each part of their bloodline demanding control. When Damian ordered them to channel their abilities together, it was like forcing storms to merge.

The eighth time I catch Philip Mumford cheating on me, he pours a bottle of concentrated disinfectant over his groin. "Happy now?" Amid the wreckage, his face is deathly pale as he looks at me like I'm the one who has lost my mind. It's the first time he's ever backed down. I stand frozen, clutching a piece of broken porcelain, suddenly feeling completely lost. During our worst fight, I strap dynamite to myself and his mistress, forcing him to choose between us. In response, he has himself and my parents tied to five semitrucks chained together, then smiles and asks if I still want him to choose. That's how we spent ten years torturing each other, neither of us willing to give in, bac

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did without question. When my wealthy biological parents finally brought me home, my adopted sister leaned close and whispered arrogantly, "I'm the one and only Saunders daughter. If you know what's good for you, leave on your own!" I obediently nodded. Then I turned around and ran straight into the traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. They scrambled out of the car and dragged me back, their faces already pale with terror. My brother glared at me and warned in a low voice, "If you keep acting like this, I'll send you back to that hellhole." That night, I obediently locked myself inside a dog crate. When he fo

“You know training these students is going to be hardwork right? It’s not too late to cancel.” He was actually right, because what makes Barbarian training different from the standard mafia training was that the Standard Obsidian training was tactical and structured but the Barbarian training was older than that, more primal. Less about strategy and more about instinct, endurance and breaking down of whatever you think your limits are, limits don’t hold us back. Obsidian trains the mind first and the body comes second, but we train the body until the mind has no choice but to follow. **** Next Morning

But Lyra persevered, her determination fueled by a shared purpose—to protect Silvermoon and to ensure that the Obsidian Circle’s manipulations would not succeed. She initiated a series of training sessions, emphasizing not just combat skills but also psychological resilience and the ability to recognize manipulative tactics. She incorporated lessons on emotional intelligence, conflict resolution, and effective communication—skills critical to preventing future infiltrations. The training programs weren’t just about physical preparedness, but about building a stronger, more resilient team, capable of resisting manipulation and maintaining unity in the face of adversity.