The cold of the rift washed over him, and then again a second time. He briefly saw the interior of the hangar, before he was transported again to a separate place. The body of Guo was gone, and he was alone.

He was in a tiny cell, five feet by five feet wide. The walls, ceiling, and floor were the standard metallic sheen of the trial ground. The disembodied voice of the trial Director whispered softly in his ear.

“Participant Hudson Appleseed. You have broken Rule #2 and failed to follow the instructions of the Director. You failed to return through the rift with resources at the designated time.

“Violation: Standard. Corrective Action: Pending; additional violations to be processed.”

There was a slight pause. A wave of exhaustion hit Hudson, and he sat down on the floor. The room wasn’t large enough to lie down in – most likely on purpose – but he could at least rest his legs.

“Participants Clara Baring and Corvinus Landry have also broken Rule #2 and failed to follow the instructions of the Director. Participant Hudson Appleseed is suspected of preventing Participants Clara Baring and Corvinus Landry from being able to comply with Rule #2, and is thus in violation of Rule #3: purposefully harming or obstructing another participant in the trial.

“Participant Guo Huang has broken Rule #2 and failed to return within the directed time frame, and Rule #1 by failing to survive. Participant Hudson Appleseed is suspected of preventing Participant Guo Huang from complying with Rule #2, and thus in violation of Rule #3. Participant Hudson Appleseed is also suspected of killing Participant Guo Huang and thus in violation of Rule #3.

“Participant Hudson Appleseed: you are to explain the circumstances of your violation, and…”

The voice of the director trailed off into silence, a silence that was broken by the soft snores of Hudson, slumped in the corner of the tiny cell.

…..

Hudson was dreaming.

He was crouched in the shade underneath a porch. The hot, summer sun beat down on the browning grass in the yard. He could hear the faint sounds of crickets and grasshoppers as they scratched in the dry dirt.

“Hudson,” the voice of his father called out.

This spot under the porch had been one of his favorite places to hide. Neither his parents nor his brothers had found him there.

Why was he dreaming about this? He knew he was dreaming, but it was so vivid. It was so real.

“Hudson! You need to come and apologize to your brother,” his father called out.

The spot under the porch had been one of his favorites because no one ever found it. He continued scratching in the dirt mindlessly, ignoring his father and hoping he would go away.

“You’re five years old. You can’t just hit people and run away.”

He remembered, and resentment flooded into his heart. Why did he have to apologize? He hadn’t done anything. His older brother had been the one picking on him.

There were steps on the porch above him, and he froze. This was his best hiding spot; no one ever found him here.

“Hmm. I don’t know where Hudson is,” he heard his father say. “But if he could hear me, I would tell him it’s ok to be angry. But it’s not ok to hit people because you are angry.

“I would tell him that you can’t control what you feel. But you can name it, and you can control how you respond to it.

“And I would tell him that whenever he’s ready to come out, I can talk to him about it.”

Hudson sat under the porch, in his safe spot, and listened to his father’s voice. He sat, and he thought about it. And in the middle of his dream that was both a memory and something too real to be a memory, he heard what his father had said and thought about it.

In his memory, he stayed under the porch until his father went away. He stayed there until it was dark, and the cool night breeze and hunger from skipped meals drove him back inside. Where his mother yelled at him, but his father heated a slice of pizza and made sure he ate.

In this dream, he didn’t wait until nightfall. He scrambled out from under the porch, and turned around, expecting to see his father waiting for him.

He wasn’t. There was no one on the porch; his father was nowhere in sight.

A gentle breeze picked up, blowing through the yard and across the porch. The wind grew more insistent, tugging at Hudson’s clothes. The leaves on the oak tree in the corner of their yard shook in the wind, flipping over to show their pale blue-green undersides.

He looked up at the sky just as the first fat, cold raindrop hit his wrist. The sky was a mass of dark, roiling clouds.

He tried to turn and run into the house, or even back under the porch, but in the dream, his feet were now fixed. He couldn’t move, and could only lift his hands up to shield his face.

Sheets of rain flew across the yard, and the clouds rumbled angrily, heat lightning arcing across the sky. Hudson was quickly soaked and shivering, but he still could not move.

Goosebumps raised on his exposed skin; there was a slight tingling and his hair started to rise – despite being wet. He struggled to move, to shift his feet, but it was like they were glued to the ground.

The tingling intensified, and as he looked up again at the sky, there was a roar, a flash of light. And another one, lightning bolts firing downwards in a roar, landing on the lightning rod of the house behind him.

Hudson’s consciousness began to fade; the roar of the wind and thunder fading from his ears. Before he completely passed out, he thought he heard a voice in the wind; an intonation in the thunder.

Trust no one, the voice screamed.

…..

Hudson opened his eyes.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

He was back in his room, lying on his bed. He felt sore and groggy, and his right wrist faintly ached.

The images from the vivid dream were still fresh in his mind. He sat up and held his head in his hands. He hadn’t thought of his father in a long time; he had passed away years ago. Maybe the thoughts of death had brought that memory back to the surface.

He shook his head clear and shuffled into the shower. A new, clean set of clothes was folded, waiting on his bed after the long shower, just like always. The director must teleport those clothes in while he’s in the shower.

The director… Hudson had completely forgotten about the director and his interrogation upon returning. He was back in his room, and wasn’t in the interrogation cell any more. What did that mean?

Maybe the interrogation was delayed, since he had fallen asleep during the middle of it. Any second now, the director would teleport him back to the small room and begin questioning him again.

Hudson noticed a small pile of objects at the end of the bed. His armor pieces (even the ones he had used to splint Cor’s leg), the two silverine claws, water bottle, and intact remnants of the medical kit were stacked neatly. At least he got to keep his hard-won loot, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep all of it. He rubbed his sore wrist as he thought about trying to insert a silverine claw into his meridian again.

When the director failed to announce himself and continue the interrogation, Hudson sat down at his desk. There were the same options available as before:

Summary Status

Trial Merit Rewards

Physical Fitness Program

Visualization Aid

Information

He selected Information, but there was only the S.E.C.T. primer and trial instructions. No new information. He selected his Summary Status next, and saw a few changes.

Trial Day 6

Name: Hudson Appleseed

Age: 22

Rank: 10 -> 11

Cultivation Stage: Breath (Lower) -> Bone (Upper)

Cultivation Technique: Unknown

Overall Physical Fitness: 3 (Low) -> 4 (Standard)

Strength: 2 (Very Low) -> 3 (Low)

Flexibility: 4 (Standard) -> 4 (Standard)

Dexterity: 3 (Low) -> 4 (Standard)

Endurance: 3 (Low) -> 4 (Standard)

Visualization Training: Step 31

Trial Merits: 7 -> 0

Progress to the next Sigil Challenge: 5%

He wasn’t sure what he had expected to see, but an update on whether the director of the trial thought he had murdered a fellow participant was not there. He had increased his cultivation stage, his overall physical fitness, and lost all of his trial merits.

Life and death situations have a way of encouraging growth… or ending in death. Fortunately for Hudson, what didn’t kill him had made him stronger.

Bracing himself mentally, Hudson decided to make a more direct query.

“Um, Director Ix, can you hear me?” Hudson asked, then winced. There was no response.

“Director Ix, what is going to happen to me?” he asked again. “Am I being punished for breaking the rules?”

The familiar, disembodied and robotic voice whispered in his ear. “Yes. Participant Hudson Appleseed is confined to quarters for 24 hours for disobeying Rule #2, failing to follow directions and return from resource collection within the specified time limit.”

Hudson hesitated for a second, and then asked, “How are Clara and Cor?”

“Participants Clara Baring and Corvinus Landry are also confined to quarters for 24 hours for failing to follow directions.”

Hudson breathed a sigh of relief, before working up his courage to ask the question he really wanted answered.

“And…” Hudson suddenly couldn’t remember the name. The name of the person who had died – who he had killed. “The participant who died? Whose body I carried back inside? What will happen to the body?”

“Participant Guo Huang failed Rule #1 and did not survive the resource collection exercise. His body will be returned to S.E.C.T. when the trial concludes.”

“I killed him,” Hudson blurted out. He couldn’t help it; it just came out. “It was not on purpose, not directly, and I was being attacked. But I still caused the rockslide that killed him.”

He clearly wasn’t thinking properly; why did he just say that? But after saying it, he felt better. Some of the guilt weighing on his mind lessened, if only by a small amount.

“Confirmed. Pursuant to testimony from Participant Corvinus Landry, received through direct review of memory engrams voluntarily provided by the participant, Participant Hudson Appleseed has been found to be acting in self-defense and absolved of penalties for breaking rule #3 and harming his fellow participants.”

That was a relief. He wasn’t going to be punished further, at least by the director of the trial. And neither were his friends. One day in solitary wasn’t too bad a punishment, either. He wouldn’t have to deal with George Adams and his cronies for another day as well.

He’d gotten a lot of answers out of the director already; he decided to continue pressing his luck.

“What about Participant George Adams? What was his punishment?”

“Participant George Adams failed to follow Rule #3 and has been confined to quarters for 24 hours.”

“That’s it?” Hudson exploded. “He caused all of this. And that’s all he gets?”

There was no response as Hudson fumed.

He had almost lost his life, been buried under rubble, and clawed his way back literally over the corpses of silverines. And he was being punished for being late, while the person who caused all of it, including the death of a fellow participant – indirectly – had the same punishment?

The guilt that Hudson had felt when seeing Guo’s body, bloody and broken at the bottom of the ravine, fueled his anger. Why did he feel so guilty, when it wasn’t his fault? Why weren’t the real criminals being punished? He started his breathing technique, and qi flowed through his lungs and into the channels in his body, cycling faster and faster.

In the middle of his mind, a calm voice spoke. It was the voice of his father, the father in his vivid dream just minutes ago that had said: You can’t control what you feel. But you can name it, and you can control how you respond to it.

“Director Ix, thank you for telling me this,” Hudson began, bringing the tempo of his breathing technique under control so that he could also speak at the same time.

“But this is not fair. Not to me, not to my friends, and not to that bastard George Adams.

“More importantly…This is not just. Someone died,” Hudson struggled briefly. “A man named Guo Huang died. And you, Director Ix, have failed him. You have failed to bring him justice.”

Hudson stopped talking and walked over to the door to his personal gym. He could work off his anger with a good workout. He’d lost all of his trial merits by not being present to do his physical fitness training every day.

Ix’s voice whispered in his ear.

“What is justice for Participant Guo Huang?”