Tihan stood among the other Nomods, under the morning sun waiting in line for further instructions on a tracking course.

"Alright, recruits! Line up for the endurance run!" one instructor shouted.

Tihan took his place on the starting line, glancing nervously at the other recruits. Some looked confident, their athletic builds a great contrast to his own. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. This was it—the first step in proving himself.

Robots timers and camera drones were positioned strategically around the track, their lenses capturing every movement. Drones hovered above, providing real-time data to the instructors and recording each recruit's performance for later review. The technology ensured accuracy and left no room for error or favoritism.

"On your mark, get set, go!" the automated system blared, and the recruits took off.

He pushed himself forward, his legs pumping with strength as he settled into a steady pace. The sound of footsteps and heavy breathing filled the air, the group effort of a bunch of recruits striving to prove their worth.

Tihan focused on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to maintain a rhythm. His legs burned, muscles protesting the sudden exertion after years of inactivity. But he kept pushing, refusing to let himself fall behind.

As they rounded the first bend, Tihan noticed a few recruits already starting to lag. He wasn't the fastest, but he wasn't the slowest either. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, determined to finish strong.

"Come on, you can do this," he muttered to himself, biting through the pain.

The run seemed to stretch on forever, each step a battle against his own fatigue. The drones floating overhead, their cameras capturing every moment. He could hear the high-tech timers beeping intermittently, marking the progress of the recruits.

Halfway through the run, Tihan felt his energy waning. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his legs felt like sandbags, and sweat poured down his face. He glanced around, seeing others in similar states of exhaustion. Some recruits had already slowed to a walk, their faces flushed with effort.

But Tihan refused to give in. He pushed himself harder, focusing on the rhythm of his steps and the heart hammering in his chest. The finish line was still far off, but he could picture it clearly, pushing him to keep going.

"Just keep going," he told himself.

As they neared the end of the run, an instructor's voice boomed from the loudspeakers, offering encouragement and updates. "Last stretch, recruits! Push through the pain! Finish strong!"

Tihan summoned the last of his strength, his muscles screaming in protest. He could see the finish line now, the automated timers and cameras waiting to record his time. He gritted his teeth and pushed forward, each step felt like a win.

Finally, he crossed the finish line, his body begging for rest. He slowed to a walk, hands on his knees, sucking in air. Around him, other recruits were doing the same, their faces showing relief and exhaustion.

"My heart was pounding hard, I could hear it in my head. I held back from spitting, feeling a knot in my throat and even a stitch in my side." Proud of his performance, but needing a drink, he knew the first test was over, but there were many more to come. He straightened up, feeling a surge of pride and determination. This was just the beginning, and he was ready for whatever came next.

As he walked to the next assessment station, he noticed several water stations scattered around the field. Recruits were refilling their smart water bottles, sturdy canteens provided by the Explorer Committee to keep water cool and track hydration.

Tihan approached one of the stations, holding his provided metal gourd under the dispenser. The ice-cold water flowed into the container, a small screen on the canteen showing hydration level and temperature. He took a long drink, the water cold and refreshing.

"Okay, Tihan," he said to himself as he twisted the cap back on. "One test down, many more to go."

Feeling more pumped up, he made his way to the next assessment area, set on showing what he's made of.

After catching his breath and chugging some water, Tihan joined the rest of the Nomods as they were herded to the next assessment area. The instructors led them to a part of the field loaded with strength and agility stations. Tihan felt a mix of excitement and stress; he knew this would be another test of his limits.

The instructors, using their H-Frames, displayed the layout of the stations. "Alright, recruits! You will move through these stations in groups. Each station tests different parts of your physical game. Follow the directions from the automated systems and give it your all!"

Tihan's first stop was a strength test with heavy lifts. The aim was to lift and shift a bunch of increasingly heavy objects from one spot to another, as fast as possible. The recruits lined up, and Tihan watched as the first few struggled through the challenge.

When his turn came, he stepped up, took a deep breath, and positioned himself over the first weight. As soon as the timer started, he hoisted the weight and carried it to the designated spot. The weight was heavier than he expected, but he gritted his teeth and focused on keeping his balance. His muscles screamed, but he managed to complete the first lift.

"Next weight," the automated system directed, and Tihan moved to the next object. He repeated the process, each weight heavier than the last. By the time he reached the final weight, his arms felt like they were on fire, and his legs wobbled under the strain. He took a sec to steady himself, then lifted with everything he had left. The final lift was a slow, arduous process, but he managed to complete it before the timer ran out.

Breathing hard, he shuffled over to the next station, a set of agility drills. Cones were laid out in a zigzag pattern, and recruits had to sprint through them as quickly as possible without knocking them over.

As Tihan prepared for his turn, he noticed the recruits ahead of him struggling to keep their speed and accuracy. When it was his turn, he took a deep breath and started the drill. The first few cones were easy enough, but as he continued, his legs began to feel heavy. He stumbled a bit on one turn but caught himself before falling.

"Come on, almost there," he panted, pushing himself to maintain his speed.

He crossed the finish line, panting like a dog and feeling the burn in his legs. The instructor noted his time, and Tihan moved on to the last station: a vertical jump challenge. A large digital screen displayed the goal height, and recruits were required to jump and hit the highest point they could reach. The results were instantly recorded and displayed.

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Tihan got in line, watching the recruits ahead of him take their turns. Some managed impressive heights, while others struggled to make a decent jump. When it was his turn, he shook out his limbs, took a deep breath, and jumped as high as he could. His fingertips brushed the target, and the screen flashed his result.

"Not bad," he thought, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite his exhaustion.

With the physical tests done, Tihan joined the other recruits in an assigned rest area. The instructors handed out protein bars and electrolyte drinks to help them recover. As he sat down, he couldn't help but feel proud. Despite his early doubts and the tough tests, he had managed to push through.

"Alright, recruits," an instructor announced, "use this time to recover. The next part of your test starts soon."

Tihan leaned back, savoring the moment of rest. He knew this journey was far from over, but with each test, he felt more prepared for the challenges ahead. This was his shot to prove himself, and he was determined not to let it slip away.

The recruits were herded into an open area with a boxing rings set up under the open sky. Tihan's heart still pounding from the previous exercise, looked around him and his fellow recruits. Some looked as nervous and tired as he felt, while others seemed more confident, stretching and warming up.

"Alright, recruits! We're going to do military boxing matches. This will test your combat skills, endurance, and strategic thinking. Remember, this isn't just about landing punches. You can use any combat move within reason as long as you don't kill each others, medical team is here and ready. Give it your all!"

Tihan took a deep nasal breath, steadying his nerves. He slipped on his gloves and adjusted his mouthpiece, feeling the weight of the equipment. The gloves were heavier than expected, and the mouthpiece pressed against his lower teeth, felt foreign.

"First up, Tihan Omnach and Johnson Dine!" the instructor called out.

Tihan's stomach lurched. He climbed into the ring, feeling the eyes of the other recruits on him. Johnson, a burly Elven with a confident stance, was already in the ring, bouncing on his toes, shaking out his arms like a pro.

They tapped gloves, and it was go time.

First Round:

Tihan and Johnson faced each other in the ring. The gong signaled the start, and Tihan launched into action with quick jabs, trying to find an opening. He quickly realized that his punches lacked the power to affect Johnson significantly. "I can't hurt him with my noodle arms," he thought, frustration creeping in.

Johnson, moving with ease, blocked and dodged Tihan's attempts, occasionally landing precise hits. Each punch from Johnson felt like a hammer blow, even when Tihan managed to block it. "Is this the difference between Biogen? No, it's just me lacking. I'll show you" Tihan thought, pushing through the pain.

Realizing his punches lacked the necessary power, Tihan shifted his strategy. He started throwing kicks, hoping the added force from his shoes would make a difference.

"I need to do better. Maybe my kicks can make a difference," he thought.

His foot connected with Johnson's calf, drawing a grunt from his opponent. Encouraged, Tihan aimed another kick at Johnson's ribs, his determination renewed.

Johnson adjusted his stance, his movements fluid and controlled. He blocked Tihan's kicks, countering with powerful punches that made Tihan wince with every impact. Tihan kept one hand forward to block and the other protecting his face, his arms absorbing the brunt of Johnson's relentless attacks. Despite the pain, Tihan managed to stay on his feet, his frustration growing with each passing second.

"Every hit I take hurts, but I can handle it. I just need to keep pushing," he told himself.

"Not bad, but you've got to do better than that," Johnson remarked, his tone almost casual. He mixed in feints to confuse Tihan, landing punches and kicks that slipped through Tihan's guard.

Johnson's dominance was clear; his fluid movements and calculated strikes left no doubt about his superior skill.

The round ended with Tihan panting and battered, but still standing. He glanced at Johnson, who seemed only slightly winded.

Second Round:

As the bell rang for the second round, Tihan felt a surge of determination. He decided to up his aggression, wanting to at least make Johnson falter. Tihan began with a series of quick kicks aimed at Johnson's legs and sides, hoping to use the heavy shoes to his advantage. Each kick stung, but Tihan pushed through the pain, keeping his guard tight with one hand protecting his face and the other bracing for incoming strikes.

Johnson, maintaining his composure, blocked most of Tihan's kicks with ease. His superior technique was evident as he moved methodically, countering with well-placed jabs and kicks that targeted Tihan's torso and legs. Each blow from Johnson was calculated, designed to wear Tihan down bit by bit.

Despite the growing pain, Tihan saw an opportunity when Johnson threw a high kick. He braced himself and, with gritted teeth, grabbed Johnson's leg. The impact hurt, but Tihan held on, using his weight and momentum to try and throw Johnson off balance. Johnson, quick on his feet, rolled with the motion, hitting the ground and swiftly getting back up.

Before Johnson could fully recover, Tihan charged, using his shoulder to shove Johnson hard. The move caught Johnson off guard, pushing him back a few steps. Tihan's rough tactic showed his desperation and raw will to fight.

Johnson's reaction was swift and controlled. Despite the force of Tihan's charge, he regained his footing quickly, his eyes narrowing. He realized Tihan was not just any opponent; he was unpredictable and willing to fight with everything he had.

Johnson shook his head, his grin fading. "Not bad, Omnach. You got some moves."

Tihan, panting heavily, felt a brief sense of triumph but knew he had to keep pressing. He followed up with a flurry of punches and kicks, each one more frantic than the last. Johnson blocked and evaded most of them, his superior stamina and technique allowing him to stay ahead. He waited for the right moment and then, with a swift counter, landed a solid kick to Tihan's side, causing Tihan to stumble.

"Is that all you've got?" Johnson taunted, his breathing still steady.

Tihan's frustration mounted. "I can take you down," he growled, charging forward again.

"Bring it," Johnson replied calmly, sidestepping and delivering a quick jab to Tihan's ribs.

Third Round:

The final round began, and Tihan went all out. He charged at Johnson, throwing a wild array of punches and kicks. Johnson, though, remained methodical, blocking and countering with precision.

Tihan felt his energy waning but refused to back down. "You talk too much," he growled, clinching Johnson's body. He slammed his head forward in a brutal headbutt. Both fighters' foreheads split open, blood streaming down their faces.

Stunned, Johnson pushed Tihan away. Tihan, seizing the moment, aimed a kick at Johnson's groin. The low blow took Johnson by surprise, doubling him over in pain.Johnson, though momentarily pained, countered with a precise punch, delivering a clean punch to Tihan's temple knocking Tihan down once more.

Tihan fell to the mat, consciousness fading but still aware of the outcome. The gong rang, and the arbiter automaton's voice boomed, "Blue side, Johnson Dine, wins!"

Despite the loss, Tihan felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He had given everything he had, and that was enough for now. Johnson extended a glove, and Tihan, still breathing heavily, fist-bumped him.

"Good fight," Johnson said, showing respect.

Tihan nodded, grateful for the acknowledgment. "You too."

"The bell rang, signaling the end of the match. Both men crashed to the mat, panting and battered. Tihan lay on his back, breathing like he'd just sprinted 100 meters, and got a bloody nose and face covered in blood, feeling every bruise and ache like he'd been hit by a truck. Despite the pain, he couldn't help but feel a burst of pride. He had given it his all, and Johnson looked just as exhausted.

"Good fight," Johnson said between breaths, extending his glove.

Tihan nodded, fist-bumping with him. "You too."

Tihan was helped to his feet by a couple of recruits and guided to the side. He grabbed his metal gourd filled with water, downing it in a few gulps. His heart was still racing, and his body ached, but he felt a new fire in his belly. This was just the first step. There was still a long way to go, and he was ready to face whatever came next.

Medical personnel quickly approached, administering a nano-injection to help with his injuries. The pain in his side, the throbbing in his nose and head began to ease almost immediately.

Tihan looked around, seeing the other matches in progress. Some recruits were struggling, while others seemed to be holding their own. He spotted Cecilia, a lean Goliath girl with fierce passion, dominating her opponent with skillful punches and kicks.

The recruits got a quick breather before the next assessment, and Tihan used the time to stretch and recover.

"It's fun," he muttered to himself, a small smile forming on his lips.