Chapter 26 The Score of Survival

He raised his voice, “Harry - our test-sinker - has done it again, folks. Give our boy a big round of applause! Maybe even a thank-you after school, since thanks to him, every last one of you is getting the privilege of fifty laps after the classes are over, yet again, enjoy! And you know what? He’s earned it. Failed. Again. But in all seriousness Harry, if you keep filling out my tests with that delusional nonsense, you might as well quit the academy and spare us all the headache!”

West’s gaze zeroed in on Wimp, who shrank in his seat, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“And let’s talk about your VR tank mech combat training - zero! Big, fat zero! Harry, you’ve officially set a new record as the worst student I’ve ever had the misfortune to teach, and believe me, I’ve taught some questionable recruits. But you, Harry? You’re the king, the grand champion, the MVP… of the absolute bottom! But hey, I’ll give you this - you scored a thirty this time. That’s an improvement, I guess.”

A few students snickered, and a ripple of amused murmurs swept through the class. West's gaze swept over the room like a storm, silencing every smirk, chuckle, and side glance.

“And what are the rest of you snickering about, huh?! Do you think this is a comedy show? Here’s a newsflash for you: you’re all right behind Harry on the disaster chart! Only a handful of you even show promise. Sierra and Jacob have been leading lately, and Jacob is barely a month here but the rest of you? Not so much.” 

He pointed at the academic group.

 “You nerds bury yourselves in theory, think you’re geniuses. But when it’s time to put that knowledge to use? You freeze up, panic, or start nitpicking! And you muscleheads over there? All you care about is rushing in and blasting mutants left, right, and center without a plan, like you’re some kind of superhero. Well, news flash: that’s why your VR scores are riddled with red alerts - you’re charging headfirst into death! You treat it like a game.”

West paced in front of them, his voice sharp with irritation. 

“It’s disappointing! And it’s not because you’re hopeless; it’s because I see every single one of you sitting on potential, well, except one of you but that's neither here nor there. You could be good pilots, maybe even the best if you pulled yourselves together! But instead, what do I see? A bunch of kids sitting on their asses, joking around, taking shortcuts, wasting time!”

He jabbed a finger toward the door.

 “Out there, no one’s gonna care how well you scored on a written test or how big your muscles are. Out there, it’s survival, it’s precision, it’s knowing when to push and when to hold back. So the choice is yours - waste time here and flunk out, or get serious and earn your place. Because right now? You’re wasting my time and yours!”

Aria’s slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the classroom, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Amen, sir! Truth has been spoken! But speaking of wasting time, maybe we should hit the VR room instead of sitting around here, huh? I’ve been dying to try it out - I heard they’re fun!”

She leaned back in her chair, casting a playful look around the room.

 "What do you say, fellas? Maybe a little hands-on training will help us all. A little action never hurt anyone, right?”

From the back raw muscleheads cheered, "Action! Finally, you're talking our language! Sir! The new girl is right! All we need is some action! Let's hit the VR room and show those mutants! Wooohaaaa!"

The room buzzed with whispers and nudges, a few surprised that someone had dared to break the tension so brazenly. But a few students straightened up, clearly ready to back her suggestion if it meant shaking things up a bit.

 “Alright, Hale, you’ve got spirit. Let’s see if you’ve got the skill to back it up. Class dismissed - get your gear on, and meet in the VR room in five! And believe me, if you’re not taking it seriously, you’ll find out just how fun I can make it. If you don't meet the collective score of 200,000 scores in the VR test, you can expect an additional 50 laps! And trust me, I will be there, standing with my shock baton to whip anyone who dares to even think about slowing down. Keep that in mind! Alright, I meet you all in the VR room, at ease!”

As soon as West left the room, Sierra sprang out of her seat, storming over to where Harry - the unfortunate 'wimp' of the class - was sitting. She bore down on him, her sharp nails glinting as she raised her hand, her eyes narrowed to slits.

Harry flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the punishment. But the strike never came. She stood there, trembling, her clenched teeth barely containing her frustration.

 "Grrrr! You damn wimp," she hissed through gritted teeth. 

"How many times do you need to get hurt before it sinks in?! Grrr! Do you like getting hurt that much? Why are you like this, huh? Why?”

She threw her hands up, her nails catching the light as she gestured in frustration.

 "You write that ridiculous garbage on every test! And don’t even get me started on your VR scores! You’re going to have us running another 50 laps - and if we fail this training, that means shocks baton! I don’t want to get shocked with a baton again! Not. Again!" 

She let out an annoyed growl.

 "Grrrrrr! You’re not even worth the slap."

She glared down at him, her voice almost a whisper now as if begging, "How about you say something back? Just say something back for once!”

Harry sat there, head hanging low, avoiding her gaze.

 "Sorry…" he whispered.

Sierra’s face flushed red, her eyes glassy with frustration she couldn't put into words. She turned around, blinking rapidly, and stormed off toward the changing rooms. 

Instructor West paced before them with everyone suited up and lined up in the VR room. His gaze swept across the room, pausing a moment longer on each student's nervous expression before he barked out his orders.

“So!” he announced, hands on his hips. 

“To make it through this exercise alive, I’m demanding a collective score of 200,000 points! If you don’t hit that target, well, 50 laps and shock baton.” 

A few students swallowed hard; they knew well enough what failure meant in West's world.

“Most days,” he continued, pacing back and forth, “all twenty-four of you manage to scrape by, hit that number, and avoid my wrath. But today… we’re a bit short-staffed, aren’t we? It’s not looking good already, and to make matters worse, we have Harry tagging along today.” 

He nodded in Harry’s direction with a dramatic sigh, as if the young man’s mere presence was enough to drag everyone down.

 “So good luck. You’re going to need every bit of it.”

He clapped his hands as if waking everyone up from a daze.

 “But hey,” he said, turning to Aria, “you’ve got fresh blood on the team. Newcomers can bring surprises, right?” A twisted smile crept onto his face.

 “Who knows, maybe this new recruit will save your sorry hides.” He paused, letting the glimmer of hope flash across their eyes before snuffing it out with his next words.

“Now,” he said, folding his arms and taking a deep breath.

 “Since you all completely tanked that test, I’m in the mood for a really nasty scenario. Let’s make things a bit... interesting, shall we? So here’s what you’re up against. Horde Mode! That’s right, wave after wave of enemy combatants, coming in heavy.”

The group shuffled uneasily, glancing at one another, unsure of what to expect.

“Oh, but wait,” he added, “Did I mention you’ll be starting with a tank mech that’s already been severely damaged? No ammo, missing an arm, and a breached reactor core, overheating quickly.” 

“Oh, and one more thing,” he added, smirking as he saw their faces pale.

 “You’ve got a 10-minute timer ticking down. That’s all the time you’ve got to reach the evac point - assuming you survive the onslaught. Sound easy enough?”

He clapped his hands and shouted. 

“Get ready to deploy! And remember: anything less than 200,000 points… means failure!”