Chris’s life had been in freefall for the past month, and he wasn’t sure how to regain control. His mother was missing, and it had shaken him to his core. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find his footing.

She had been stationed aboard the orbital station when it was destroyed in what was officially classified as a terrorist attack. When the news first broke, he had been certain she was dead. Grief had almost paralyzed him, but he still clung to hope, desperately trying to contact her.

Nothing.

Then, the reports came in that everyone had survived.

Relief flooded through him, but it didn’t last. There had been one victim. One person was taken by the terrorist. That one person was his mother.

The military had contacted him and explained they believed she was still alive, but they had no idea where she was or why she had been abducted.

Before he could even process that, another blow came.

He had been forcibly enlisted into the Youth Soldier Competition.

Chris had never intended to compete. At seventeen, he was already at the maximum age limit, focused on his officer candidacy and not some glorified, televised survival game.

But the Martian Defense Force had made one thing clear:

He had no choice. He was no fool and could see there was a link between his mother, the terrorist and his forced enlistment but he couldn’t see what it was. That would have to wait for now as he had to do his best to put on a good showing.

Now, as he sat staring at the provided profiles of his assigned teammates, his unease deepened.

Null’s profile was practically nonexistent it was just a name and an age. No background, no training history, nothing but a blank slate. Chris could hardly believe that a six-year-old, accelerated to ten, was competing in the senior division and even more unbelievably, as a combat specialist. He would be the first person he had to test to see his abilities.

Then there was Jania.

She, like him, had been forcibly enlisted into the competition. Unlike Null, her file was complete but it painted a grim picture. Her records labelled her a failed Super-Soldier she had too many physical side effects, a questionable mental state, and a history of instability. Her evaluations were the lowest in her squad, both physically and mentally. He understood that even as a failed soldier she should still be capable of her role. It was just her mental state that causing him concern.

Max was next on his list.

His profile showed that he had barely scraped through his engineering entrance exams with minimum passing scores. His psychological evaluation flagged him as lazy and a potential flight risk which were not exactly the qualities Chris wanted in someone responsible for their survival gear. He was another one he would need to have plans for.

And finally, Zeph.

Her report was short it was almost as blank as Null’s. She had been sponsored by a corporation, that vouched for her skills, but she had never taken the entrance exams. That meant no standardized performance metrics, no confirmed military training, and, as far as Chris could tell, no experience handling military-grade hardware or the latest-generation software.

Chris couldn’t see what connected them all, but one thing was clear He had been handed a team of misfits. And in two days, he had to pull them together for a survival mission.

Now that team selection was complete, they had been assigned a dorm and given two days to prepare for the competition. Those in the know understood that this wasn’t just about preparation—it was a test for the squad leaders.

Chris hadn’t even reached the dorm yet when he heard shouting. Not just one voice but three, overlapping in anger. His stomach tensed and he picked up his pace.

When he entered the room, the scene was pure chaos. Jania and Max were yelling at Null, who sat casually on the ground with a smirk on his face. Even Zeph, who had seemed quiet and withdrawn before, stood behind Jania, her face flushed with frustration as she added her voice to the argument. They were all talking over each other, making it impossible to understand what was being said.

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Chris had had enough. “Enough!” His command cut through the noise like a blade.

The room fell silent. That was a good sign. At least they recognized authority.

“Explain,” he said.

Jania, still fuming, pointed at Null. “He called us useless!”

Max threw up his hands. “Not just that, but he threw in a few choice insults, too!”

Zeph crossed her arms, glaring at Null. “He’s acting like we’re dead weight.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t even surprised.

Null’s communicator chimed, his synthetic voice breaking the silence. “I don’t know why they’re angry. I was only telling the truth.”

Chris braced himself for whatever came next.

“Jania’s muscle structure is asymmetrical, which means she’ll be a liability in combat. Max has the wrong settings on his tools, which means I’ll have to check everything he does. And Zeph lacks combat experience, meaning she’ll get in the way.”

Chris exhaled sharply. Technically, nothing he said was wrong. But that wasn’t how you built a team. I wonder if they are upset he is pointing it out, or if they didn’t realise beforehand.

Before Chris could say anything, Jania stepped forward, fists clenched. “If you think we’re useless, then prove it.”

Max cracked his knuckles. “Three-on-one. Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are.”

Even Zeph, hesitant but determined, nodded in agreement.

Null’s smirk widened. A laugh seemed to escape him, though no sound came out.

Then, The communicator chimed once again. “Fine. I accept. I’ll go in unarmed. You can use whatever you want.”

The team logged into the supplied training pods, their consciousness transferring seamlessly into the virtual combat simulation. Inside the system, they could choose any scenario they wanted, but they agreed to keep things realistic, using only the gear they would have in the Youth Soldier Competition.

The simulation loaded, placing Null as a hostile target, cornered inside a derelict building. The environment was a war-torn urban zone, with crumbling skyscrapers and shattered streets stretching in all directions. It was a perfect kill box or at least, that’s what they thought.

Zeph took the lead in tracking. Equipped with an advanced tactical visor, she switched between thermal imaging, motion detection, and sonar mapping to monitor Null’s movements. Every flicker of motion, every shift in position was relayed directly to Jania and Max’s tactical hubs.

"Got him," she reported. "Northeast corner, second floor. He’s boxed in."

Jania, stationed on a rooftop overlooking the building, adjusted her sniper scope, keeping her breathing slow and steady. She had one job which was to take the kill shot the moment Null made a mistake.

"Copy that," she said, lining up her sights. "I’ll cover the exits. If he tries to break out, he’s done."

Max, meanwhile, had been busy setting up defensive barriers around the building. He worked fast, laying down automated trip mines, turrets and portable barricades at every possible escape route. His combat drone hovered above, scanning for any weak points in their perimeter.

"Perimeter is locked down," Max confirmed. "We’ve got him caged in."

It was a solid plan. Textbook tactics.

And yet, seconds later, Null was gone.

A sudden red warning flashed across Zeph’s visor with movement detected, not where it should be.

"What—? He’s not—"

Before she could finish, Jania’s sniper scope went dark. The moment she blinked to adjust her sights, Null’s heat signature vanished from the second floor.

Max’s trip mines failed to trigger. His drones detected nothing.

The building was empty.

And Null was already behind them.

Chris observed the battle from the spectator interface, watching as the flawless trap unravelled before his eyes.

Null had never been trapped.

From the start, he had been waiting and studying their setup, searching for the weak link. It wasn’t that the plan was bad. It had been solid. But Null had found the one blind spot, a flaw so small that it only mattered if you could do the impossible.

And then, he did it.

With inhuman speed, he scaled the crumbling exterior of the building, his movements eerily fluid, almost effortless. The others had focused on the exits, but Null had never intended to leave through the ground. He had gone up and across the rooftops, silent as a shadow.

Zeph never saw him coming.

She had been too focused on tracking him below, trusting her sensors to feed her the truth. But sensors could be deceived. By the time her visor flashed red, warning her of movement, it was too late.

He dropped behind her, close enough that she could feel his presence before she heard it.

She spun too slow.

A flash of movement, a well-placed strike, and she was eliminated before she could even scream.

Then came Max.

Null didn’t even have to touch him. He used Zeph’s equipment, tapping into her tactical relay to turn Max’s automated turrets against him. The weapons swivelled, identifying their new “hostile” target which was Max himself.

Chris watched as the engineer panicked, scrambling for cover as his own defences betrayed him.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me!" Max shouted, but he hadn’t bothered to set up a failsafe against friendly overrides. Null had noticed.

The turrets fired. Max was out.

That left Jania.

She had held her sniper position, never moving, trusting that her cover was secure. But Null had been watching her too. He had entered her location, and to her credit she reacted quickly and blocked the first attack.

Chris saw how he toyed with her, circling and staying on her weak side. The side where her muscle imbalance was most noticeable. Every move he made was calculated, each feint forcing her to overcompensate.

To anyone else, it might have looked like he was playing with her.

But Chris saw the truth.

Null wasn’t just winning. He was training them.