Tarrin stood in front of the door, nerves knotting in his gut like a live wire.
'Maniacs. I've been here for a few days, and they're throwing me into a Scarbane enclosure? What, are they low on rations and figured I'd make good meat?'
Before he could spiral further, Sergeant Vincent's voice barked through the intercom.
"You'll enter on the loud beep. Ten minutes with the beauty, then you switch. And don't worry, you won't die—probably."
Tarrin exhaled through his nose, sharp and slow.
'Comforting.'
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
The beep was loud enough to rattle his bones. A heavy lock disengaged, and the reinforced door hissed open.
Tarrin stepped inside without hesitation—because hesitating meant looking like a coward, and that wasn't happening today.
'Please let it be the puppy-looking one,' he thought, only half-joking.
What greeted him wasn't a monster, at least not right away. Trees. Green everywhere.
A canopy overhead filtered soft light through thick leaves, painting the ground in shifting shadows.
Natural terrain. Could be worse.
He gripped the practice sword they'd shoved into his hands minutes earlier, a dull military-issue thing that felt like it hadn't been sharpened in years.
It wasn't much, but it was better than bare fists.
And whatever was waiting in this pretty little forest... it wouldn't be pretty for long.
Then he saw it—chained to one of the thick oaks, crouched low in the shade.
A monkey? No... not quite.
It was built like a gorilla but twisted, wrong. Hulking muscles layered over its frame like armor, thick fur matted with old blood, and twin tusks jutted from its lower jaw like daggers.
Its yellow eyes locked on him with too much awareness for comfort.
"Hey, buddy," Tarrin said, voice steady despite the sweat on his palms. "You ready to dance?"
The beast lunged, chains yanking it back with a violent snap. It snarled, foam flicking from its jaws.
Then the intercom crackled.
"Bindings will release in ten seconds. Prepare yourself. And good luck."
'Good luck? Not exactly confidence-inspiring,' Tarrin thought grimly. He squared his stance, sword raised.
"Come on then, you tusked freak," he muttered. "I'll make you wish the hunters had eaten you."
The locks clicked.
Steel clattered to the ground.
The gorilla launched forward with explosive speed.
Tarrin moved first—but not fast enough. The monster was already on him. It swung.
He ducked, the wind from the blow grazing his hair. Pivoting low, he slashed across its torso in a clean arc.
The beast slid back a step, unharmed.
Then it looked at him.
It was grinning.
'It's smirking... That smug, hairy bastard is actually smirking.'
Tarrin's jaw clenched. His pulse spiked. Playtime was over.
He surged forward with everything he had, blade flashing in a horizontal blur. The gorilla didn't flinch—it met him head-on.
Its massive fist slammed into the flat of his sword, nearly snapping it in half.
Tarrin staggered back, gritting his teeth. The gorilla followed up with a kick that shouldn't have been that fast for something so huge.
Crack.
The blow smashed into his chest, launching him into the trunk of a nearby tree. Bark exploded. Air fled his lungs.
'Alright,' he thought, dragging himself up, 'plans just changed.
You're on the menu, ape.'
Tarrin broke into a sprint, low to the ground like a predator. The plan was simple—stab first, survive later. He lunged, blade flashing toward the gorilla's chest.
Clang.
The monster batted his sword away like it was a twig. Its massive left arm followed, aiming straight for his face. Tarrin dropped into a roll, but a foot caught him mid-spin, sending him tumbling.
Fast feet. Shit.
He hit the ground hard but pushed himself up before the beast could finish the job. It was already charging, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
Tarrin didn't flinch.
He spun on his heel, sword cutting a tight arc—a perfect Dawn Slash, just like Sergeant Taylor drilled into them. The blade bit across the gorilla's chest, drawing a thin line of blood.
The beast howled, fury igniting in its eyes. But Tarrin didn't celebrate. That look? That murderous glint? He'd seen it before—this was just another Thursday.
Then the gorilla lunged again, this time with zero hesitation. It ditched any pretense of defense, throwing its whole body into the strike.
Tarrin barely twisted out of the way, the fist grazing past his cheek with a sound like ripping air.
It's not holding back anymore... good.
He dodged another blow, feet sliding across the grass, and that's when he saw it—an opening.
Not in the beast, but in the environment. The chain still tied to the tree from earlier. Heavy, taut, and mostly forgotten.
A voice echoed in his head—Harry's.
"Always be aware of your surroundings."
Tarrin's lips curled into a grin. A wild idea sparked.
"Alright, monkey," he muttered, "let's dance."
As if understanding, the gorilla snorted and threw a jab at his head with surgical precision.
Tarrin ducked, blade ready, a plan forming with every heartbeat.
Tarrin slashed across the beast's arm, a quick cut meant to sting, not stop. The gorilla shrieked in rage behind him, and he didn't wait to admire his work—he ran.
The ground trembled with each of its pounding steps, the full weight of the monster barreling after him like a living landslide.
Then something felt off.
Too quiet.
A whisper of instinct screamed at him. Tarrin looked up—and cursed.
A shadow dropped from the branches above, faster than he could react. How the hell—
He tried to dive away, but he was too late. The gorilla's hand clamped around his uniform like a steel trap.
The world tilted.
And then he was airborne.
He hit the ground with bone-jarring force, the breath exploding from his lungs. Dirt filled his mouth. Pain lanced up his spine. His back screamed, his vision fuzzed.
Before he could move, the beast was there—looming, monstrous, its tusks gleaming like ivory knives. The stench of its breath hit him like a wave—hot, sour, feral.
It raised its fist, the thing comically huge, casting a shadow over his entire face.
'That's going to kill me.'
"Not today."
Tarrin rolled, barely escaping as the fist smashed down with enough force to crater the earth. Soil exploded around him.
He didn't stop to breathe—just scrambled to his feet like a man possessed, sword dragging through the dirt.
His eyes flicked to the chain still tethered to the tree. Still there. Still his way out.
The gorilla snarled, lips curling back. Then it lunged—no hesitation, no pause.
Too fast. Too strong.
But this time, Tarrin didn't back down. This time, he was ready.
Tarrin gathered every ounce of strength and swung.
Steel met flesh—his sword colliding with the oncoming fist. The blade was knocked aside, but not harmlessly. A shallow gash tore across the gorilla's knuckles, drawing blood. It let out a guttural growl, more rage than pain.
Tarrin didn't wait. He feinted a strike to the right, then burst in the opposite direction—straight for the chain.
The beast lunged after him, fooled just long enough.
Pain screamed through his ribs, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving. Every step was a gamble. He didn't need to win. He just needed the timing.
The moment he reached the tree, the gorilla was already there, barreling toward him with murder in its eyes. Its arm swung in a wide arc, aiming to take his head off.
Tarrin dropped low, sliding beneath the punch, dirt flying around him. As he passed under the beast's arm, he grabbed the heavy chain in one hand.
The gorilla tried to twist, but he was too close to the tree—too off balance.
Tarrin surged to his feet and bolted around the trunk, the chain unraveling with a harsh metallic rattle.
The beast spun to follow, but by the time it realized what was happening, Tarrin had looped the chain twice around its torso.
He planted a boot against the bark and yanked.
Muscles burned. Bones protested. But the chain held.
The gorilla thrashed wildly, arms pinned, back jammed against the trunk. It let out a furious screech, shaking the leaves above them—but it couldn't reach him.
Not anymore.
Tarrin didn't smile. He just tightened his grip.
Then the voice echoed from above. Calm. Mechanical.
"Cadet Vex, please step out of the enclosure."
Tarrin didn't move at first—he was still braced, still expecting another lunge. But then he felt it—the tension in the chain gave way, slack rippling through the links like a sigh.
Then came the full weight.
The gorilla collapsed behind the tree, the chain going completely limp.
Tarrin stood there, heart hammering in his chest, sweat dripping into his eyes.
"I've won," he breathed. "I've bloody won."
He let go of the chain, fingers raw. Something thudded to the ground on the other side. Curiosity pulled him forward.
There it was. The beast, unconscious—sprawled out in the dirt like a broken god.
Tarrin stared at it for a moment, chest rising and falling. Then he huffed a tired, crooked grin.
"Try smirking now, ugly bastard."
He turned toward the open doorway, body aching with every step. His ribs felt like cracked glass. His sword was bent to hell. His pride? A little scuffed.
But he'd won.
And that? That felt damn good.
Somewhere behind glass and screens, a certain bald sergeant leaned back in his chair, watching the replay of chain and chaos unfold.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Clever bastard," he muttered. "Real clever."