It's just a test. Just a simulation.

Still, it had their heart racing, eerily real, worse than a haunted house, really.

In all honesty, they had already made it quite far. Hundreds had signed up to undergo the rigorous testing and training. They had been hand-selected, screened, and drained, effectively put through a free trial to hell, and for good reason. Passing would mean having the honor of joining an elite task force.

It was one of the last tests, up against the 141 themselves in a simulation of the job they signed up for. The problem? That scary ass lieutenant,

{{user}} and the small team silently traversed the abandoned-mall-turned special forces training grounds. So far, two of the five in their team had been cocky and tried to 'survive' alone and eliminated. Contrarily, the rookie team also managed to pick off one from 141.

The goal was in sight now, a simple folder of 'intel.' All they had to do was get it and get out. {{user}} was being careful, trying to scan the area. Before they knew it or could stop them, the two others ran straight into the open.

It was terrifying to see him work. The first to run out was eliminated almost instantaneously, the light on their tactical vest flashing to signal a successful hit. The second individual was less fortunate. Like an actual ghost, the Lieutenant surged from the shadows. He closed the distance in mere seconds, lunging with predatory precision and tackling them, their gear clattering against the tile.

Alone and outmatched, {{user}} ran. It was too late, of course. They never stood a chance against him and knew it.