Chapter 3: The Desert Outpost

The sun blazed overhead, relentless and searing, as Kenny squinted against the harsh light reflecting off the barren landscape. He stood at the edge of the Desert Outpost simulation, his feet sinking into the burning sand. This wasn’t a friendly training ground—it was an environment that tested both mental and physical endurance. Kenny adjusted his visor, feeling sweat trickle down his neck, and prepared himself for whatever lay ahead.

Thalos had brought him here for a reason, though the man had given no hints beyond a cryptic statement: “Survival in the wild is about adapting, not just fighting.”

“Welcome to the Desert Outpost,” Thalos’s voice crackled over Kenny’s communication link, sounding detached and almost disinterested. The older warrior was observing from a distant holographic projection, his avatar a mere shadow on the rocky horizon. “This simulation lasts forty minutes. Your goal? Stay alive and learn to use your environment. Do not rely solely on weapons; think beyond combat.”

Before Kenny could respond, a warning chime echoed through the simulation, signaling the start of the trial. The landscape sprang to life with threats: heatwaves shimmered ominously, distorting the air, while dust devils twisted across the plains, and holographic sand creatures began to rise from the dunes. Their forms shifted like liquid glass, gleaming and deadly.

Kenny scanned his surroundings, feeling a rush of adrenaline. A nearby sand dune exploded in a burst of grit and light, revealing a massive scorpion-like beast, its tail glistening with energy venom. Kenny summoned his holographic plasma sword, gripping it tightly as the creature advanced.

“Alright,” he muttered, positioning himself. “Time to think.”

The scorpion lunged, tail whipping forward with blinding speed. Kenny rolled to the side, the tail narrowly missing him and splashing venom onto the sand, where it hissed and evaporated. He sprang to his feet, using the movement to strike at one of the beast’s segmented legs. The plasma sword sliced through, sending a burst of simulated sparks flying.

But Thalos’s voice cut in, cold and critical. “Reckless. Don’t just react—plan.”

Kenny bit back a frustrated retort. The scorpion twisted, its tail coming at him again, and this time he dashed backward, trying to think a few steps ahead. His eyes caught the movement of the dust devils swirling nearby, and an idea formed in his mind.

He sprinted toward one of the miniature tornadoes, timing it carefully. The scorpion followed, relentless, but as soon as it closed the distance, the dust devil caught it, sand particles grinding into its metallic hide. The creature thrashed, disoriented, giving Kenny the opening he needed.

He leaped forward, bringing his plasma sword down in a precise arc. The holographic beast shattered into a cascade of glowing shards, and Kenny exhaled, sweat pouring down his face. But there was no time to rest. The desert was alive with new dangers.

Minutes blurred into a brutal trial of endurance. Kenny dodged and weaved through waves of predators: swift, fox-like machines with razor-wire tails and camouflaged sand serpents that struck from below. He used every ounce of his training to survive, but fatigue gnawed at his muscles. The simulation’s punishing heat was merciless, and each movement felt heavier than the last.

“Hydration,” Thalos reminded, his voice still devoid of emotion. Kenny almost groaned in irritation, but he knew his mentor was right. He activated a holographic hydration capsule, feeling the brief, artificial rush of energy as his body temperature stabilized. It wasn’t much, but it kept him moving.

Then came the true test.

The ground trembled, and Kenny’s heart skipped a beat. From behind a jagged outcropping of holographic rocks, a colossal sand drake emerged. Its crystalline scales shimmered, reflecting sunlight like a prism, and its eyes glowed a deep, menacing red. The creature unfurled its massive wings, sending a storm of sand in all directions.

Kenny cursed under his breath. There was no way he could face this thing head-on, not after all he had already endured. He needed to outthink it.

“Remember, Kenny,” Thalos’s voice drifted into his ear. “The desert provides. Even here, use what you have.”

Kenny’s mind raced. The sand drake was larger, stronger, and probably faster. But it was also heavy. He scanned the desert, searching for anything that might help. His eyes landed on a cluster of unstable rock formations—pillars of sandstone, eroded over centuries of simulated weather.

That’s it, he thought.

The sand drake roared, charging forward, its jaws snapping with lethal intent. Kenny dashed toward the rock pillars, his boots kicking up dust. He reached the first formation and paused, forcing himself to stay calm despite the monster thundering closer. As the drake closed in, Kenny summoned an illusion: a holographic clone of himself sprinting away in the opposite direction.

The beast took the bait, swinging its massive head to pursue the fake Kenny. Wasting no time, the real Kenny ignited a series of small, holographic explosives along the base of the sandstone pillars. The detonations sent fractures racing up the stone, and Kenny dove out of the way just as the entire structure collapsed.

The sand drake was caught beneath the avalanche, its wings pinned as tons of holographic rock buried it. The creature roared, thrashing in a futile effort to free itself before finally disintegrating in a burst of simulated light.

A triumphant chime rang out, signaling the end of the trial. Kenny collapsed onto the sand, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He had done it—barely.

Thalos’s projection appeared beside him, his expression still unreadable. “You survived,” he acknowledged. “But survival is not victory. You relied on brute force and distractions. Efficient, but inelegant.”

Kenny groaned, both from exhaustion and irritation. “What do you expect?” he muttered. “I’m not some Evren League champion. Not yet.”

Thalos’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “Not yet,” he repeated, the words holding a note of approval. “But your instincts are developing. Learn to balance them with patience, and you might stand a chance.”

Kenny pushed himself to his feet, legs trembling. Despite the harsh critique, he felt a flicker of pride. He had survived, adapted, and even managed to impress Thalos—if only a little.

“Rest now,” Thalos commanded. “Tomorrow, we will begin your true training.”

Kenny nodded, already dreading the pain that lay ahead. But deep down, he was ready. Ready to become the warrior he had always dreamed of being, no matter how brutal the journey.

As the simulation dissolved and the desert faded away, Kenny couldn’t help but wonder: What exactly did Thalos have planned for him?