"The first month's reports, Major-General Tatelov." The colonel placed the document on the desk, standing at attention.
I leaned back in my chair and gestured for him to continue.
"The initial results are promising," he said, his tone measured. "Only twenty-three cadets have been dismissed, and five have been lost—far better than the usual seventy casualties in the first month."
Skimming through the report, I nodded. "Hmm. Encouraging. But tomorrow is the true test. Talent ranks will be revealed, and the cadets will be sorted. Let's hope we have more than two hundred survivors by the end of the second year." My eyes flicked back to the colonel. "Anyone worth noting this time?"
He hesitated briefly, as though weighing his words. "There are three who have demonstrated exceptional potential. However... there's also one underperforming."
I raised a brow. "If they're failing, why are they still here? Or alive, for that matter?"
"They're one of the artificials, sir. AKP-11,003. The doctors have classified her as defective. Normally, she would've been terminated, but considering the exorbitant cost of manufacturing and the constraints of the Knight King's First Pact, they decided to repurpose her for the Constellation Program. Her survival is more an economic calculation than a practical one."
I huffed, irritated. "There's always one lazy ant in the nest." A memory flickered to the forefront—turquoise eyes staring at me during the opening ceremony, striking in their intensity. "What are her results, then?"
"Physically, she's only marginally better than the bottom-ranking humans," the colonel admitted. "But her strategic ability and determination rank among the top performers, even compared to her siblings. She's stubborn, sir. She won't give up, no matter the odds."
"Born to kill," I muttered, "even if she ruins herself in the process. Typical of her kind." Tossing the finished document onto the desk, I sighed. "Make sure the rank announcements proceed without incident tomorrow. Training will only get deadlier from here."
"Understood, sir. Permission to be dismissed?"
"Granted."
As the door closed behind him, I leaned back and rubbed my temples. Those turquoise eyes lingered in my thoughts—unwavering, defiant. For a cyborg, her gaze felt far too human.
The harsh intercom buzz echoed through the halls, breaking the suffocating silence of my room.
"Attention, all cadets. Please report to the nearest telemetry screen for updated directives. Rankings and schedules for the next phase of training will be displayed. Seek guidance from instructors if needed."
Groaning, I dragged myself upright. Every movement was a dull ache. My body, still catching up to my mind, rebelled against the endless drills and punishments of the past month. I shuffled out of the room, the cold metal of the hallways biting against my senses.
The glowing telemetry screen loomed ahead. Alone, I scanned the list.
"Rank 903 out of 973..."
The number was a punch to the gut. I stared at it, the weight of my failures crashing over me. My siblings—all nine of them—ranked in the top 30. Meanwhile, I scraped the bottom, barely better than a human.
If I weren't so defective, would they treat me as their equal? Would they call me sister?
A sudden noise snapped me from my spiralling thoughts. The door at the end of the hall hissed open, and laughter spilled out as my sisters—Seven, Six, Eight, and Nine—strolled through. I panicked, darting into a side corridor just as their voices carried over and they arrived at the terminal screen.
"Oh, my empress! I'm ranked 13! I'm the closest to Zero's position!"
"Congrats, Seven!"
"Wish I was that lucky. But where's that failure on here, huh?"
"Ha! She's in the nine-hundreds! She makes me embarrassed to even be an AKP."
Their taunting laughter echoed down the corridor, each word a dagger to my chest. I clenched my fists, torn between retreating to my room or staying hidden. The thought of facing them, enduring their scorn, made my stomach churn. Why am I so useless?
"Three."
The voice, low and calm, startled me. I turned to see him—Zero—the eldest and most revered of all the AKPs. He stood there, his piercing eyes locked onto mine. "What are you doing here? Are you... crying?"
Embarrassed, I wiped my tears hastily with my sleeve. "It's not your problem. Please... just leave me alone."
I brushed past him, heading down the corridor he had come from, my steps quick and uneven. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving, wiping them away until none were left.
"H-hey—" His voice softened, trailing off as I disappeared from sight.
"Ah! Zero, look at how high you've been ranked!"
He turned to the others, his focus wavering, but his expression unreadable. "Yeah... I'll be right there," he muttered.
I wandered aimlessly through the facility's cold, iron corridors, eventually finding myself at the outdoor training grounds. Five cadets were already there, running the obstacle course with a relentless drive. Their progress was undeniable—each mistake gave rise to five improvements.
Sitting against a rock, I sighed, letting the weight of frustration spill into the open air. Watching the humans train, I couldn't help but wonder. If they improve so quickly, why even create us? What purpose do AKPs serve beyond filling roles in the military? And if that's true, what was the point of creating someone like me—a failure?
Months passed. Training continued, brutal and unforgiving. One by one, cadets dropped out—some injured, some crippled, and others simply dead. For those of us who remained, survival became a daily battle.
Humans and artificials alike found their own ways to cope. For me, it meant hiding. I slept in the forest, away from the facility, where the bullying couldn't find me.
A month turned into three, then six. Somehow, I endured. The assaults, the isolation, the endless grind—it all blurred into a haze of pain and resilience.
On the eleventh day of the sixth month, we were gathered into neat lines in the main hall. The Major General strode in, his presence commanding instant silence.
"You are all being issued a special stimulant required for future training," he announced, his voice like steel. "Your instructors have briefed you on the details. Once you receive your stimulant, you are to return to your quarters immediately. Digest it tonight. Training resumes tomorrow."
Standing at the back of the artificials line, I watched as packets of green and silver powder were handed out. When my turn came, I held the packet up to my nose. The bitter metallic scent stung my senses, but I forced myself to stay composed.
I knew what this was. These stimulants were more than just drugs. They were nanites—tiny machines designed to rebuild our bodies from the inside out. Stronger bones, unclogged spirit meridians, enhanced bio-electric production—it sounded miraculous. But the risk was terrifying. If the process failed, the nanites would turn us into nothing more than grotesque masses of flesh.
"Succeed or die!" the Major General barked. "The choice is yours. Dismissed!"
I slipped away from the crowd, blending in with the human cadets on my way back to my room. But just as I reached for the door, a hand clamped down on my shoulder.
"I've been looking everywhere for you, Number Three," Nine said, her voice dripping with malice.
I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach. "Nine..."
Before I could react, she shoved me against the wall. The back of my head slammed into the cold metal, and I winced in pain.
"What do you want? Just let me go to my room. I won't bother anyone!"
Nine sneered. "Oh, really? You remember what the professor said yesterday about these stimulants? I asked him what would happen if someone took multiple doses at once. Guess what? The death rate jumps to ninety-nine percent."
My heart sank as her accomplices—Seven, Six, and Eight—emerged, each holding spare packets of stimulants.
"You wouldn't," I whispered, panic rising in my chest.
"But we would," Nine hissed. "We're sisters, after all. And as your adoring baby sister, I thought I'd help put you out of your misery."
They pounced. I fought, but they held me down. Nine forced my mouth open while Eight pinned my head. One by one, they poured the stimulants down my throat—ten full packets.
"Eat up, big sister," Nine taunted, her voice like venom.
By the time they forced down my own packet, I was choking, my throat raw and burning.
"That's eleven stimulants just for you," Nine said, laughing as she kicked me to the floor. "Do try your best to die, so I can finally have some decent juniors."
Their laughter echoed as I crawled into my room, slamming the door behind me.
The pain hit almost instantly. It was as if millions of ants were crawling through my veins, tearing me apart from the inside. My muscles burned, my bones felt like they were being ground into dust, and my nerves screamed in agony.
I wanted to pass out, to escape the torment, but I couldn't. If I lost consciousness, I might not wake up. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to endure. Minutes felt like hours, but I stayed awake, clinging to the faint hope of survival.
When the pain finally subsided, I opened my eyes. My body felt different—stronger, sharper, more alive. Stumbling to the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back.
My teal eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. My pale skin shimmered faintly, and the tips of my platinum-blonde hair had turned a delicate shade of blue.
The transformation was undeniable.
But a foul smell hit me, making me recoil. I raised a hand to my nose and grimaced.
"I need a bath," I muttered, already heading for the forest river.