I walk through the facility corridors, my footsteps echoing against the metallic flooring. Other enhanced humans give me a wider berth than yesterday, news of my victory over Fissure has clearly spread. Some nod with respect, others study me with calculation, measuring my potential as an ally or threat.
The Assignment Chamber turns out to be a large circular room with a central platform surrounded by seven elevated podiums. Each podium hosts representatives from different alien factions, the crystalline beings I targeted, the scaled humanoids, the Krex warriors, the Shard Collective, the Luminar Conclave, and two others I don't immediately recognize.
Handler Kress stands at the entrance, checking names off a holographic list as selected humans enter. He nods to me with newfound respect.
"Subject 7249. Your performance metrics were exceptional. Multiple bids were submitted." There's almost a hint of pride in his voice, as if my success somehow reflects on him. "Stand on the central platform when your designation is called."
I join a small group of other enhanced humans waiting along the wall—about a dozen in total. Some bear the marks of recent combat, others appear freshly processed, their eyes still wide with shock at their new reality. We're the merchandise awaiting auction.
A tall, thin alien with skin like polished obsidian enters from a side door. Its movements are fluid, almost liquid, as it glides to a console at the room's center.
"Selection process commencing," it announces in a voice that seems to bypass my ears and resonate directly in my skull. "Subjects will be presented for final assessment. Sponsors may vocalize final bids."
One by one, enhanced humans are called forward. The process becomes clear quickly, those with the most impressive abilities or performances receive multiple bids, while less valuable specimens are quickly assigned to lower-tier sponsors with minimal deliberation.
"Subject 7249," the obsidian alien calls.
I step onto the central platform. Immediately, holographic data displays surround me, showing combat metrics, power analysis, and projected development curves.
"Telekinetic abilities with exceptional control parameters," the alien announces. "Combat efficiency rating: 92.7%. Strategic application rating: 89.3%. Developmental potential: High."
The crystalline beings light up first, their bodies emitting pulses of blue-white energy. "The Crystal Consortium bids primary sponsorship with unrestricted development protocols," one announces, its voice sounding like chiming crystal.
Before the announcement even finishes, the scaled humanoids respond. "The Tesseract Directive counters with primary sponsorship including direct mentorship from our elite champions."
The obsidian alien turns toward the Krex podium. Their massive representative leans forward, armor plates shifting. "The Krex Dominion acknowledges potential but withdraws from bidding. Subject displays insufficient aggression parameters."
More surprising is the Luminar Conclave's response, Nova's sponsors. "The Luminar Conclave proposes shared sponsorship with the Veridian Confluence. Co-development with our current asset Nova-7116 would benefit both subjects."
My interest sharpens at this. A shared sponsorship would facilitate ongoing contact with Nova while maintaining the benefits of the crystalline beings' access protocols.
The Shard Collective remains silent, apparently uninterested in my particular skill set.
The obsidian alien turns to me. "Subject 7249, your metrics indicate sufficient value to merit preference consideration. State your selection among offered sponsorships."
"I request time to consider the offers," I say, my voice steady despite the weight of all eyes on me. "These sponsorships will determine my development path. I want to make an informed decision."
The obsidian alien tilts its head at an unnatural angle, regarding me with what might be surprise. The room falls silent, the other enhanced humans watching with renewed interest. Apparently, this isn't a common request.
After a moment that stretches uncomfortably long, the alien responds. "Unusual. Most subjects accept immediate placement." Its voice resonates directly in my skull again. "However, your performance metrics warrant accommodation."
The alien turns to address the sponsor representatives. "Crystal Consortium, Tesseract Directive, Luminar Conclave, do you permit decision delay?"
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The crystalline being pulses with blue-white light. "The Crystal Consortium accepts. Thoughtful consideration demonstrates the very qualities we value."
The scaled representative from the Tesseract Directive seems less pleased but nods. "Acceptable. One facility cycle maximum."
The Luminar representative, a being composed partially of visible light, simply inclines its head in agreement.
"Decision granted," the obsidian alien announces. "Subject 7249 will provide selection within one cycle. Return to this chamber at equivalent time tomorrow."
As I step off the platform, I notice the reactions around me. Several of the waiting enhanced humans look at me with new respect, or perhaps envy at my apparent status that allows for such requests. Handler Kress seems genuinely surprised but quickly masks it with professional indifference.
I exit the Assignment Chamber with much to consider. A full cycle to weigh my options and gather more information. The shared sponsorship between the Crystal Consortium and Luminar Conclave presents an intriguing possibility—maintaining contact with Nova while securing the crystalline beings' development protocols. But the Tesseract Directive's offer of direct mentorship could accelerate my power development.
As I walk through the corridor, I sense someone following me. Extending my telekinetic awareness backward, I detect a familiar electrical signature.
"Smart move," Marcus says, falling into step beside me. "Most just take whatever's offered, eager for protection."
"What would you recommend?" I ask, keeping my voice low.
He glances around before responding. "Depends on your long game. Tesseract trains methodically, structured, predictable. Crystal Consortium gives more freedom but less direct guidance." He pauses. "The shared sponsorship with Luminar is unusual. They must really want to pair you with Nova."
"And what about you? Who's your sponsor?"
Marcus smiles, electricity crackling briefly between his fingers. "Who says I have one?" Before I can respond, he turns down a different corridor, leaving me with even more to consider.
I stop in my tracks, a new possibility suddenly crystallizing in my mind. I turn and hurry after Marcus, catching up to him before he disappears completely.
"Wait," I call out, my voice lower than necessary. "Is it possible to just... reject all sponsors? To remain independent?"
Marcus turns, his expression shifting from surprise to something more calculating. The electricity dancing between his fingers intensifies slightly as he studies me.
"So you figured it out," he says with a hint of respect. "Yes, technically you can refuse sponsorship. It's not advertised as an option because the aliens prefer every asset to have an owner." He glances around to ensure we're not overheard. "But there's a catch, several, actually."
He motions me to follow him into a small alcove away from the main corridor traffic.
"First, you lose all privileges that come with sponsorship, better quarters, enhanced nutrition, advanced training facilities. You'll be assigned to basic blocks with minimal resources."
I shrug. "I didn't have much before I came here anyway."
"Second," he continues, "you become a target. Every sponsored fighter can earn bonuses by capturing or defeating independents. We're considered 'practice material' unless we prove too dangerous to pursue."
The way he says "we" confirms my suspicion, Marcus himself has chosen this path.
"Third, access to certain facility sectors becomes restricted. You'll need to find... alternative methods of movement." A small electrical arc jumps from his finger to the wall, briefly disrupting what must be a security circuit.
"But?" I prompt, sensing there's more.
His mouth curves into a slight smile. "But you gain something invaluable, freedom from their programming. No sponsor monitoring your development, directing your evolution toward their preferred fighting style. No biological markers linking your powers to their control systems."
He taps his temple. "Most importantly, your mind remains entirely your own. Some sponsors install subtle control mechanisms in their fighters, triggers, psychological anchors, even chemical dependencies."
I consider this information carefully. "How many independents are there?"
"Not many who survive long-term. Maybe a hundred throughout the facility, out of thousands of enhanced humans." His expression grows serious. "We maintain a loose network. Support each other when possible. It's not an easy path, but for some of us, it's the only one that lets us sleep at night."
I nod slowly, taking this in. "Tomorrow, when I return to the Assignment Chamber, I can just refuse all offers?"
"You can. They'll try to persuade you otherwise. Threaten you, even. But they won't kill a valuable asset, especially one with your potential." He gives me an appraising look. "The question is, do you have what it takes to stand alone?"
The facility's ambient hum seems to grow louder in the silence that follows his question. Independence would mean hardship, danger, limited resources, but also freedom from alien control and the ability to develop my abilities without external interference. It would change my relationship with Nova and her coalition as well, putting me outside their formal structures but potentially more valuable as an unmonitored ally.
"Thank you," I tell Marcus sincerely. "You've given me a lot to think about."
He nods, the electricity fading from his fingers. "Whatever you decide, sponsored or independent, remember what you really are to them. Not a person. Not even a weapon. Just an investment they expect returns on." With that, he turns and disappears down the corridor, leaving me with a new and unexpected option to consider.
Independence would mean hardship and danger, but development on my own terms. No alien directives shaping my evolution. No biomolecular tags tracking my movements and abilities.
Is that worth sacrificing the protection and resources that come with sponsorship? Worth potentially complicating whatever is developing between Nova and me?