Chapter 47: Thou Preparest a Table Before Me, in the Presence of My Enemies

"Pressure is a privilege." — Billie Jean King.

– – –

The chamber itself was at the bottom, behind a second steel door thicker than the entrance to the Syndicate’s armory.

A technician in a white coat was waiting beside the door with a tablet.

"Champion Micah," the technician said. "Your session is scheduled for thirty minutes.

The chamber is pre-calibrated to your current Flux profile."

He tapped his tablet and the door opened, revealing a cylindrical room about four meters in diameter and three meters tall.

The walls, floor, and ceiling were covered with hundreds of tiny glowing nodes, each pulsing with a soft blue light.

"The chamber subjects your body to concentrated Flux pressure from every direction simultaneously," the technician explained.

"If your cellular density is high enough, your cells will compress and become more efficient, increasing your Flux capacity.

If it’s too low, the pressure will crush your meridians and permanently damage your cultivation base."

He looked at Micah with an expression that was halfway between professional concern and morbid curiosity.

"Your cellular density is significantly higher than any recruit I’ve ever seen on record. I feel you should be able to handle significantly higher pressure than standard, but I still advise caution.

The chamber doesn’t care how strong you think you are. It only cares how strong you actually are."

Micah nodded once and stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a sound like a vault sealing shut.

Then the pressure hit.

It came from everywhere at once. The nodes in the walls, floor, and ceiling all fired simultaneously, and the air inside the chamber became solid. Not thick, not heavy, but solid, like being submerged in a fluid that was denser than anything his body had ever experienced.

The pressure pushed against his skin from every direction, compressing his muscles, squeezing his organs, and pressing against his rebuilt bones with a force that made his teeth ache.

His skeleton held firm, the Marrow-Forging Pill’s reinforcement absorbing the initial shock, but his soft tissue was being crushed inward by a weight that increased every second.

He activated his Advanced Flux Breathing Talent immediately, pulling in the concentrated Flux the chamber was generating and cycling it through his meridians.

The energy was dense, far denser than anything he’d absorbed from the atmosphere or the beast cores, and it hit his system like a flood hitting a dam.

His Flux percent began to rise again.

Eighty-five. Eighty-six. Eighty-seven.

The pressure increased. The nodes fired in stronger pulses that compressed his body with enough force to make his rebuilt bones creak. His skin was turning red, capillaries bursting in small pinprick bleeds across his arms and chest.

His breathing was getting harder. The talent was still pulling energy, but the pressure was making each inhale a conscious effort.

Ninety-three. Ninety-four. Ninety-five.

His meridians were straining. The Flux was pouring through them at a rate testing their absolute limits, the rebuilt channels holding but barely.

Ninety-six. Ninety-seven.

His Regenerative Tissue talent activated on its own, flooding green energy through his system to repair the micro-tears forming in his muscles and meridians.

The two talents worked in tandem, one pulling in energy while the other repaired the damage the process was causing.

Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine.

The pressure was unbearable. Every cell was being crushed and filled simultaneously, and the sensation was so intense that he couldn’t tell if he was being destroyed or rebuilt.

Then it broke!

[Flux Unlock: 100%]

[CONGRATULATIONS.]

[Host has officially surpassed the Basic Flux Unlock tier.]

[Host has evolved to: AWAKENED SOLDIER (Level 1).]

[All physical parameters have been recalibrated to match new evolutionary tier.]

A shockwave of pure Flux Energy erupted from his body.

The chamber’s nodes sparked and flickered as the pressure wave hit them. Cracks spread across the stone floor beneath him, and the reinforced steel walls groaned under the force of the release.

The excess energy spilled from his body in waves, each pulse stronger than the one before. The pressure kept building until the chamber’s automatic regulators kicked in, drawing in the energy and absorbing the overflow.

Micah knelt on the cracked floor, his chest heaving, his body dripping with sweat. He was an Awakened Soldier. Level 1.

The chamber’s pressure began to ease, the nodes powering down as the system registered his evolution.

He stood up slowly, and now he felt stronger than ever before.

He walked to the chamber door, which opened with the same deep groan as before.

The technician was standing outside, his tablet showing readings that were off the charts.

"Your cellular output just spiked to levels I’ve never seen from a recruit," the technician said, his voice slightly shaky. "Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," Micah said. "How long was I in there?"

"Forty-seven minutes."

It had felt like hours. He climbed the stairwell back to the surface, stepped out into the morning light, and headed for the central plaza.

The military horns were already blaring.

BRAAAAAAP!!

BRAAAAAAP!!

Everyone gathered in the plaza, standing in a loose formation.

The top twenty recruits stood in front of the main platform, all battered and bruised.

Dexter stood near the front. Myra was beside him, her shoulder was still heavily taped. Tasha was three meters away.

Vice-Principal Jason stepped up to the platform.

"Good morning everyone.The top twenty fighters are hereby promoted in rank," he announced. "Other details about their promotion will be communicated in due course."

His voice was amplified, allowing everyone to hear him clearly.

"Very important information. Your border deployment assignments will be distributed within forty-eight hours. Use the time to assemble your squads and prepare for active duty.

You’re dismissed." He turned to walk away without another word.

Quickly, vice-Principal Jason stepped back to the railing again.

He hadn’t finished yet. The plaza went quiet again, the scrambling recruits freezing mid-step as his eyes swept across the formation one more time.

"One additional announcement," he said. "The tournament champion, Recruit Micah, is hereby promoted to Squad Leader with exclusive drafting authority.

He will assemble and command his own five-person combat unit for the duration of the border deployment."

A brief silence settled over the plaza as every recruit processed the words.

"The remaining top twenty fighters are promoted in rank but will remain available for squad assignment.

All other deployment squads will be led by experienced senior soldiers from the active military roster.

This is not a request. It is a direct order from the Command Office."

He let the words hang for a moment, then turned and walked away from the railing without another word.

The plaza erupted.

Recruits who had been scrambling to volunteer under Squad Leaders moments ago were now staring at each other with confused expressions.

The entire power structure of the deployment had just been rewritten in a single sentence, and nobody was happy about it except one person.