*Biep Biep Biep BIEP BIEP BIEP KNOCK*
The annoying alarm clock Valen Dray hears every morning.
Just let me sleep, is that so hard?
Valen always has trouble waking up, everything feels so dragging and slow for him, and he can't muster any strength to get up.
But slowly but surely Valen wakes up and realizes something.
Wait, where am I? W-what is happening?
Vales sees a small room, the small bed he still is in, a small desk and a small closet and a little mirror, nothing else, just a metallic smell in the air.
Before he could think about the situation, a loud voice rings through his ears.
“Morning roll call in 5 minutes” says a metallic voice
And then it hits him, a wave of memories, not his memories, the memories of the body he is in.
Shit, what? But… What is this? Oh! Shit!
Valen Dray died, I died, he died, we both died. Did we switch bodies? Am I the only one who switched? It must be like this, my original body is no more…
His original body got destroyed, a huge explosion, he faintly remembers. A bomb? An accident? He doesn't know exactly, he just saw the big mushroom cloud before everything went black.
Fuck, I need to get up, I’ll be punished if I don't arrive to the morning call in time.
As Valen gets up, he sees himself, same as before… slightly handsome, bright medium-length white hair, about 180 cm height, a little thinner though.
His bodysuit is in the small closet, Valen quickly dresses up and runs to the designated training arena.
Valen knows what happened, his new body, also named Valen Dray is a military recruit … he wasn’t one a day ago, his area in the slums got raided by the empire. Everything got burned, all over the age of 16 got killed, boys and girls got taken as captives, boys will be in the military and girls will be sold and used for all kinds of things.
It’s strange… I don’t know why the original owner of this body died, even though I know he for sure did,
Valen thinks as he sprints to the arena, with the help of the acquired memories.
He goes down identical concrete-and-steel hallways.
Near his destination, he spots a wide entrance whose heavy doors are slowly sliding shut.
He sees a big group of boys, all similar in age, all similar in stature, thin and weak. Disorganized, scared, some of them crying.
“Look at you. Dirty, weak, lost,” says a uniformed figure as he enters through the door opposite the one the recruits, Valen included, came through.
Looks like I got here just in time,
Valen thinks, as he hears the screams of slaves arriving too late.
“You were dying in the gutters. Starving. Fighting over scraps. No future. No purpose. The Empire pulled you out of that filth and gave you something greater, a chance to serve.” says the man.
Some recruits actually light up a little… excitement. A lot of them take this as a chance; they think they can escape their tragic slum life. Even Valen is excited. He doesn’t like his old life.
A depressing 9-to-5. What else? Nothing noteworthy. No real friends. No family.
Just drifting through life, like trash on a current, waiting to sink.
Holy, I think I'm crazy, my old life wasn’t even that bad.
“Today, you get a chance, not because you earned it. Fate, luck, or just plain trash born in the slums. Makes no difference to me.”
“You’ll take your gen tests and get sorted. The rooms you had last night? That’s a C-Class privilege. Don’t get used to it.”
“Now, a simple test. Take a knife. Take a bag. Cut off your left pinky and drop it in. If you can’t manage that… you’ve just proven you’re useless.”
He grins.
“And obviously, if you don’t comply… well, you’re disposable.”
Reactions are all over the place.
Fear. Numbness. Defiance.
One kid pukes. Another just stares at his hand like he’s saying goodbye.
Then there are the broken ones.
Already done.
The ones who don’t flinch, don’t blink, just slice like they’ve done it before.
Fuck. I’m not used to pain. Ahhh, well, fuck it.
Valen grabs the knife. It’s colder than he expected, heavier too. His left-hand shakes as he stretches it out on the floor, pinky trembling like it knows what’s coming.
Don’t think. Just do it.
He bites down on his sleeve. The blade hovers for a second. One second too long.
Then-
A scream claws its way up his throat, but he swallows it. The pain is white-hot, like his entire arm’s been set on fire. Blood spatters across the floor. His breath hitches. His vision swims.
He forces himself to grab the finger, shaking, slick with blood, and shaves it into the bag.
It’s done. Holy shit. I actually did it.
“Splendid,” the instructor says, like they just passed a pop quiz. “You all managed to do it. Good.”
He claps once, slow. Mocking.
“Now, we’ll begin the gene testing. In the meantime…” he gestures lazily toward the edge of the arena, “start running.”
Brutal, this is brutal,
Valen thinks, while dizzy from the last task.
The body switching situation is so bizarre…
I’m me, right? Did my soul cross over? Do souls even exist?
Our memories fused… but the ones from Valen’s body feel foreign.
I am me.
… Ah, fuck it. It’s annoying to think about. And my hand fucking hurts.
He hisses as the pain flares.
I need to at least sort my memories. Shit…
I am in the Genetarch Empire. They always wage war with all the other ruling forces of the world, so they need a lot of soldiers. They often use the poor with no status with still not tested genes.
After a moment, Valen narrows his eyes.
Depending on your gene class, you actually get freedom in this place. So what if someone here scores high? Like… really high? By law, they wouldn’t need to stay. They’d be pulled out, given status, a rank, a name.
I hope I score high enough…
Valen keeps running.
His breath comes in ragged bursts, blood dripping. The edges of his vision pulses with black, his head, light and spinning. But he doesn’t stop.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Around him, others begin to fall behind. One stumbles to his knees, another collapses face-first into the dirt. Some slow to a walk, swaying. A few dropped altogether, too weak to stand. Valen barely notices.
He was somewhere else in his mind.
Even before this place, before the body switch, he had always been able to keep going. He had drifted through his old life without purpose, never truly interested in anything. But when things got hard, he pushed through. That was the one thing he had always done.
This new body was stronger, faster. But it wasn’t just that. The slums had built the frame. Hunger had carved out discipline. Violence had made him hard.
So he runs.
Until a sharp voice snapped across the yard. The metal door opens again, and the same man from before steps out, still in uniform, still watching without emotion.
“Halt. Stop running and get it together,” he commands.
Valen slows, chest heaving. His legs shook but held. Around him, the other survivors stumbled to a stop.
“Form a line,” the instructor says. “One at a time. Collect your armband and state your gene status.”
The queue snaps into place, everyone knows they have to behave. The stronger cadets surge to the front, the less-confident drift to the back, well, almost everyone. Somehow, Valen ends up 10th.
How did I end up here?
He wonders.
“Good. Better than the last batch,” the instructor mutters.
They stand before a huge metal container filled with dusty armbands.
“Begin, number one,” the instructor orders.
It must already contain the gene data they got with our pink-finger.
Valen thinks.
The band recognizes its wearer, uses the match as a key, and decrypts the gene so only they can see it.
The idea flickers through his mind as he stirs through his memories.
The first cadet steps forward, slips on the armband. A soft tone beeps as it syncs. He raises his wrist. A faint blue light flickers over the band, revealing a status.
Gene Status: C-124 - “Shimmerscale”
Type: Creature Gene (Waterkind)
Class: F
Level: 0 (Dormant)
Stability: 84%
Affinity: Aquatic, Adaptive Camouflage, Fluid Manipulation
Resonance Potential: Physical, Environmental
C-124, not a great gene, but at least something.
“Next” instructor orders.
Nothing noteworthy happens. Each cadet gets some kind of gene, none surpassing Class E. The instructor barely reacts anymore, he seems to be waiting, still hoping for a high-class gene to emerge.
Then it's Valen’s turn.
Fuck, please just let me have a high class.
Valen takes an armband, equips it with high hopes, a soft beep, now revealing the status.
Everybody pauses.
Valen sees his status, doesn't expect much, but then:
Gene Status: S-01 - “Sonnenherz”
Type: Crown Gen (Solar Aspect)
Class: S
Level: 0 (Dormant)
Stability: 100%
Resonance Path: [Locked]
Affinity: Solar, Radiant Energy, Spiritual Resonance
Resonance Potential: Emotional, Physical, Spiritual
“Oh, fuck”
Oh fuck
The instructor and Valen speak simultaneously.
