Chapter 4- Is he truly our Saviour?

4 January 2191

The morning sun barely pierced the steel-and-glass walls of the TerraSync lab. Inside, the elite candidates gathered—each one among the best soldiers the U.S. military had to offer, handpicked for the experimental technology. Their uniforms were sharp, boots polished, eyes alert.

Harry walked in, scanning the lab, and immediately spotted Karl standing by a wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

"Hey, Karl," Harry called, trying to break the tension.

Karl didn't respond, eyes fixed on the equipment as if he was already deep in strategy. Harry shrugged and turned to Noah, who was nervously adjusting his sleeves near the doorway.

"Hey, Noah," he greeted warmly.

Noah gave a small, hesitant smile. "Hey, Harry."

The brief greeting was interrupted by the stomping boots of Commander Tyson. The room went silent instantly.

"Everybody! Listen up!" Tyson barked. "Today, you will operate the new military technology. All of you — pay attention and follow orders. We are testing real-world applications, no simulations today!"

His sharp gaze swept the room.

Everybody got their own roles today including Karl and Harry which is gonna drive the new advanced jet that developed by Dr Sturgis team. Same goes to Marcus and Ethan that was assigned to new advanced tanks. For the conclusion of his briefing today he yell "All of you do well and don't mess up!".

Tyson's eyes flicked to Noah. "And you, janitor... don't embarrass yourself before we even start!"

Noah's chest tightened, but the words felt more like a challenge than an insult.

Dr. Sturgis stepped forward, holding a sleek wrist device. "This is yours," he said, sliding it onto Noah's wrist. "It monitors the animal abilities you activate. Imagine the power you want... let it manifest. But stay focused. Using it recklessly could be dangerous. Remember, this is still the research phase — we need to see your potential... and maybe determine if a second subject is possible."

Noah flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of responsibility. Today wasn't just about keeping up — it was about mastering the strange powers now inside him.

Harry gave him a reassuring grin, but Karl's glare from across the lab was sharp, silent, and filled with unspoken envy. Noah could feel it—the tension of someone who believed greatness was his alone, and that the janitor could never measure up.

Tyson barked again. "Move out! Training field, now!"

The candidates filed out of the lab, leaving behind the hum of monitors and the metallic scent of the facility. Noah followed, heart pounding. His first real test with TerraSync technology was about to begin.

The training field split into sectors — one for the jets, one for the tanks, and at the far end, a sealed-off zone cordoned with reinforced glass and observation decks. That last part was for him.

Noah Hale. The janitor.

While Karl, Harry, Marcus, and Ethan were already heading toward their machines, Noah was ushered into his isolated area.

The facility wasn't a normal training field. Noah had been placed inside an isolated test chamber — a massive cube of reinforced glass and steel built on the ground floor, connected to the outdoor complex. From outside, it looked like a hangar with one side transparent. Inside, an artificial training ground stretched wide: fake trees, steel obstacles, dummy enemy, even simulated terrain. Dr. Sturgis and Commander Tyson observed from the glass-paneled control deck, hands hovering near emergency switches.

Up above, Commander Tyson and Dr. Sturgis stood behind a reinforced console, eyes on him like hawks studying prey.

Tyson's voice crackled over the comms. "Alright, janitor. Don't screw this up."

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, muttering to himself. "Okay, okay... no pressure. Just, y'know, everyone's lives depending on me... totally fine."

He exhaled and raised his wrist device. The faint glow pulsed with his heartbeat.

"Don't freak out," Noah said aloud, half to himself, half to them. "I... uh, I figured something out last night. Kinda. Maybe."

His body tensed. A shiver crawled down his spine.

Then — shkkkkt!

Eight shimmering limbs burst from his back, metallic yet organic, like a spider woven from biotech. They spread wide, each one flexing with terrifying elegance. The sound of their joints clicking echoed like blades being unsheathed.

Gasps erupted from the observation deck. Even Tyson, who rarely showed surprise, stiffened.

Noah glanced back at the spider legs, then at the commanders watching. He gave a sheepish grin. "Sooo... surprise?"

The limbs twitched. One slammed down into the dirt, leaving a deep crater. Another hooked into the ground, lifting him slightly. Noah wobbled, arms flailing.

"Whoa—whoa—nope, nope! Too high!" He yelped, clutching at the air as the spider limbs held him up like a puppet.

Both Tyson and Sturgus didn't laugh. Tyson's voice thundered through the comms: "Control it, Hale! Power without discipline is nothing!"

Noah swallowed hard. His legs trembled, but his voice rose with determination.

"I can do this! I won't... I won't be a screw-up forever. Just watch!"

He slammed two spider limbs forward — WHAM! — punching deep holes into a reinforced practice wall. Dust burst into the air.

The force made him stagger, nearly face-planting. But he caught himself with another limb, panting, eyes wide.

Dr. Sturgis leaned forward, eyes gleaming with scientific hunger. "Excellent... truly excellent. Keep going, Noah. Push it further."

Noah groaned, steadying himself. "You sound way too happy about this, Doc!"

The limbs rose again, moving smoother this time, synced to his rhythm. Clumsy... but slowly finding balance.

Tyson folded his arms, growling, but his gaze sharpened. Deep down, he saw it too. Raw, untamed... but real potential.

Tyson's voice boomed from the observation deck.

"Alright, kid. The spider trick's cute, but think bigger. Think fiercer! Show me something that can tear enemies apart!"

Noah swallowed, sweat dripping down his brow. Fiercer... fiercer... His mind raced, images flashing. Suddenly, one burned bright.

A tiger... yeah, tigers are fierce. Claws. Big scary claws.

He clenched his fists, focusing.

The wrist device pulsed — shkkkkt! — and his fingernails elongated into razor-sharp tiger claws, gleaming under the training field lights.

Noah's eyes widened. "Holy—! Okay, that's... that's actually awesome!" He flexed his hands, the claws cutting grooves into the dirt.

But before he could celebrate, the spider limbs behind him twitched violently.

"Uh... guys?" Noah stammered.

The limbs jerked left, then right, smashing into the reinforced ground, tearing through steel poles like paper. A practice wall collapsed with a thunderous crash. Dust and debris filled the air as the spider legs went wild, acting on their own.

"Control it, Hale!" Tyson roared. "I said control, not destroy the damn field!"

"I'M TRYING!" Noah shouted back, clawed hands flailing as he ducked under one of his own rampaging limbs. "These things have a mind of their own!"

The chaos worsened. One limb nearly pierced the observation glass. Another sent a dummy flying across the field like a ragdoll. Noah spun in panic, his claws slicing through a metal rail unintentionally. Sparks flew.

"Stop, stop, STOP!" Noah yelled. "I'm not even doing this!"

Dr. Sturgis's eyes narrowed. His fingers danced over the console, and then — click.

Noah's wrist device sparked. BZZZZZT!

"Aaaghhh!" Noah screamed as electricity surged through his body. His spider limbs stiffened, jerking erratically, before retracting with a metallic screech. His claws dimmed, shrinking back into normal fingernails. Finally, he collapsed to the dirt, smoke rising faintly off his uniform.

He groaned, pushing himself up slowly, hair frazzled. "Ow... ow... ow..." He looked up at the observation deck, voice hoarse. "Hey! What the hell was that for?!"

Dr. Sturgis leaned close to the comms mic, voice calm, clinical, almost cold.

"Failsafe protocol. To prevent your powers from consuming you — and us. Don't forget, Noah. This is still research. And you... are still unstable."

The words stung. More than the electricity.

Tyson scowled but said nothing, his gaze lingering on Noah — battered, humiliated, but still breathing, still glaring up with defiance.

Noah clenched his fists, trembling. "I'll... I'll get it right. I swear I will."

Tyson folded his arms, his voice cutting through the ringing silence after Noah's collapse.

"Yes... you will, kid. You will."

Before Noah could reply, the entire facility trembled as a deafening roar split the skies.

The sound of jet engines.

From the wide glass windows above the training floor, all eyes turned upward. Two sleek prototypes blazed across the clouds, weaving and rolling with impossible speed. Their contrails spiraled like dancing blades across the morning sky.

Tyson's lips curled into the faintest of grins. "They're doing well, kid. Very well. It's time for you to get serious too."

⸻

On the same time

Karl's hands gripped the controls, his jaw set tight. Sweat dotted his brow, but his eyes burned with determination. The HUD flickered with warning symbols as he banked hard, pushing the jet beyond its test parameters.

From the comms, Harry's voice cracked with alarm.

"Karl, no! Don't you dare try that maneuver! The system's not ready, you'll stall—"

Karl's voice cut sharp, full of venom.

"I'll prove it, Harry. I don't need that damn biotech to be great!"

The nose of his jet angled skyward, climbing higher, higher, until the horizon vanished. Then—he cut the throttle.

The world tilted. The jet hung in the sky for a heartbeat—before plummeting straight down.

"PULL UP, KARL! PULL UP, DAMMIT!" Harry's voice nearly broke through the radio.

The ground rushed up — the sprawling forest beside Ryze Command Complex filling the cockpit view. Altitude warnings screamed.

But Karl's eyes never wavered. His grip steady. His breathing calm.

At the last possible instant—

WHOOSH!

The jet snapped into a flawless cobra maneuver, nose jerking back up as the engines roared alive again. Air blasted in violent waves, treetops bowing beneath the force. Karl's aircraft sliced across the canopy, skimming leaves but never touching.

Behind him, Harry's jet followed in desperation, finally leveling out. His voice returned on comms, breathless, half furious, half relieved.

"You're insane, Karl. Absolutely insane... You're gonna get yourself killed."

Karl smirked, though no one could see it. "Better that than useless."

⸻

Back at the facility

On the training field, Noah braced himself. His wrist device buzzed, and in a burst of instinct, translucent insect wings sprouted from his back.

"Okay... okay... I can do this!" he muttered. "Just think bird. Or... bug. Or... bug-bird."

The wings fluttered. He lifted off—wobbly, swaying like a kite in a storm.

"Woah—woah—no brakes, NO BRAKES!"

Noah spun mid-air like a drunk fly. He zigzagged erratically across the training floor, veering dangerously toward the observation deck.

CRASH!

He slammed into the reinforced glass with a sickening thud, sliding down slowly like a squashed insect.

Noah groaned, peeling his face off the glass. "Don't... worry... guys... totally meant to do that."

Silence.

Only the hum of the observation deck filled the air. Dr. Sturgis adjusted his glasses, lips twitching as though suppressing a sigh. Tyson's jaw flexed, unimpressed.

Tyson's voice thundered across the training field.

"ENOUGH with the jokes, Hale!" His fist slammed the railing. "What you need isn't more powers. What you need... is discipline. I'm going to reshape you — break you down and rebuild you into something useful."

Noah, still flat on his back, managed a weak thumbs-up. "Cool... totally looking forward to dying."

But deep in his chest, his heart pounded with a strange mix of fear and fire.

⸻

The stillness of the training field weighed heavy. Noah's trial had only begun — and Commander Tyson's idea of "reshaping" him was nothing short of merciless.

And above, beyond the steel and glass of Ryze Command Complex, the mysterious entities drifted ever closer to Earth.

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