Chapter 9
Ava thought she was unprepared for the Trials. Then Combat class began.
The Viridis Survival Guide is a YA sci-fi serial about Ava, a people-pleasing 17-year-old who enters a virtual program while she sleeps to save her dying brother, only to discover she may never wake back up.
Previous Chapter | Table of Contents
NEW MESSAGE:
[ROSIE.AI | 10-01 12:57 AM] Rule 6: Using controls on peers is forbidden. Also, tasteless. Rosie doesn’t bail you out of prison, virtual or otherwise. xx
There’s a monster in the library. As if I needed another reason to leave this place.
Not that the monster is actually the problem. If anything, it’s pretty low on the list.
It’s been over a week now and I still can’t log out. Can’t call, can’t message, can’t even send a virtual smoke signal.
I’ve asked every professor in this place why I can’t log out. Repeatedly. None of them seem nearly as concerned as they should be. According to Custos, temporary logout failures aren’t unheard of. Easy for her to say. She’s not the one trapped in here while her brother’s life ticks away.
Apparently, the Sen Academy is super cut off from the real world, by design. No messages in, no messages out, not even when you’re awake. Part of the lovely contract Sen Academy students and faculty “voluntarily” sign upon implant activation includes a strict NDA so we don’t accidentally leak any top-secret Skilled knowledge into the wild. According to Custos, their hands are tied. She said the glitch in my implant will correct itself or, most likely, someone in reality is working to fix it. Great plan. Nothing like trusting complete strangers with your consciousness while you’re trapped in a high-stakes digital school you didn’t even apply to.
Meanwhile, Leo’s stuck in a hospital bed and I’m here. Wasting time that I could be using to help him live. Every minute I spend trapped in this nightmare training academy feels like I’m letting him down. And the only person who can fix this is Levi freaking Sen, who’s apparently too important to be contacted unless I win his Trial-slash-possibly-fatal-apprenticeship-competition, which I’m not at all prepared for.
The first Trial is in a few days and maybe if I don’t die horribly, I’ll get the chance to ask him politely to undo this mess. So that’s the plan. Survive the Trials. Then find Levi Sen and beg him to get me out of here before my brother runs out of time. Oh, and avoid the secret room in the library and whatever creepy clawed monster resides within.
At least Rosie came through on her end of the deal, bringing me an impressive stack of books, despite looking like they belonged in a haunted attic. I’ve spent every spare moment poring over them, searching for answers about not being able to log out or about finding where Levi Sen is hiding so that I can shortcut my way home.
I haven’t found a single scrap of useful information about where Levi Sen actually is. No direct contact protocols, no office hours, not even a mysterious “Summon the Founder” button. What I have found in Rosie’s books: He likes black coffee, he once programmed an AI assistant to speak only in Shakespearean insults, and no one’s ever seen him enter or leave a room. Fascinating. None of it helps me.
The log out issue? Way worse. According to the books, there are a lot of reasons why someone might be unable to log out. Some are tech-related—server malfunctions, corrupted data, a bug in the implant. Some are darker. Deliberate. Theories of people being locked inside by someone else.
I’m choosing to bet on an implant error. Something glitched in my neural connection, and my dad (whenever he realizes I haven’t woken up) will get it fixed. He has to get it fixed.
I’m not the only one who thinks my mere presence is an error in the system. Every time I walk through the atrium, students are watching a new gossip video from some Senfluencer named Trent Chernov. Apparently my Clearing ceremony disaster is still trending. Last night’s upload was titled CLEARED GIRL: Chosen by Sen or Glitch in the System? I watched for twenty seconds before closing my own holographic window.
I tell myself it’s fine and brace for the impending doom that is Combat class. A normal, run-of-the-mill, let’s-punch-each-other-for-educational-purposes kind of thing.
Classes have been a catastrophe from day one. My controls keep misfiring whenever I’m stressed. Creations is somehow worse; every attempt ends with Professor Maja looking at me like she’s reconsidering my admission. Half the faculty seem convinced I’ll eventually figure things out. The other half seem to be taking bets on how spectacularly I’ll fail first. And now Combat is next on the list.
The moment I step into the Arena, the same cavern amphitheater where I was selected for the impending Trials, I spot all of the Flavus students standing off to the side. Just a long row of yellow second-years staring at me like I’m a joke. This is not the way Combat normally starts.
I crane my neck gazing at the sea of students, trying to find James, the blonde charming guy who defended me from that terrible Deirdre girl. That’s when I spot him.
Blood-covered boy. From the library. Except now he’s wiped clean. And because the universe is personally invested in my suffering, he spots me too.
His lips peel back, slow and sharp, like a predator baring its teeth. No amusement. No mercy. Only the promise that I’m next.
I immediately whip around, prepared to fake a sudden, tragic injury, or maybe develop spontaneous blindness, when—
“Ava!”
Izzy. My new friend. My kind, effortlessly athletic, much-more-competent-than-me friend. She jogs up, bright-eyed and excited, which is not the appropriate emotion for someone about to be punched in the face by a more experienced second-year.
“Guess what?” she says. “We’re paired.”
I attempt a smile even though my insides are sloshing. I think I pull it off. So far, in Combat class, we’ve only learned individual moves and tactics on our own. We’ve never been paired up before—certainly not with Flavus present.
“So, we’re going to take on a second-year?”
“Oh no. That’d be terrible. We’re fighting each other,” she clarifies, cheerful like we’re about to play dodgeball, not punch each other until we’re too injured to keep going, or worse—one of us dies.
“And that’s good news?”
She shrugs. “The Flavus students are here to coach us. I hope I don’t get Deirdre as a mentor. Can you imagine?”
Gut-punch. I’m going to have to battle my friend. I follow her gaze to the smug looking second-years and find Deirdre. She’s watching us like we’re prey. I involuntarily shudder.
“Don’t worry, Ramsey won’t let us die,” she adds. I’ve already died once, I am not willing to risk it happening again. I don’t want to become a Legacy. I’ll be stuck here forever and Leo won’t have a chance.
I shiver and glance toward the wall of Flavus again. They chatter, laugh, stretch.
I catch snippets of conversation:
“Last year, a kid’s arm reattached backwards.”
“Still twitches sometimes.”
“Lucky it wasn’t his head.”
I try not to vomit.
Professor Ramsey, barrel-chested and loud as a cannon, claps his hands. “When you’re a Skilled leader out in Senium, protecting some grandmother from a band of thugs or defeating an Ignis monster in the Forest Maudite, it won’t be creations or controls that will save you. It’s combat.”
He clasps his hands behind his back and walks around the center mat. “This Academy isn’t dangerous for the fun of it. Everything about this place is testing you, preparing you, for that day. Remember that when you fight.”
He stops in the center of the mat.
“Rules are simple. No controls. No creations. No mercy. The goal is to incapacitate your partner. If they die, we’ll bring them back tomorrow. Hopefully.”
Laughter. Someone whoops. No one flinches.
This is normal to them. This place is insane.
“Flavus students, find your assigned Viridis and mentor them through each drill. If they’re bad, make them better. If they whine, ignore them.”
That doesn’t sound great.
Luckily Deirdre moves past us. Izzy is paired with a buff Flavus, muscles the size of boulders stuffed under his shirt. I glance across the arena, hoping that James might be paired with me. Instead, he waves to Sebastian, who regards him like a strange insect. He catches me watching and jogs over.
“You’ll do fine,” James says, stopping just a little too close. “You’re the only one here who actually matters—Trial girl.”
Then he winks, squeezes my shoulder and struts back over to Sebastian. And I forget how to breathe. The way he looks at me, like I can do this, makes me want to prove him right. Deirdre watches us from a distance, jaw tight, like she’s not sure who she’s more annoyed with.
“Well, well,” someone drawls. “Looks like I’m stuck with you.”
I turn. It’s blood-covered guy, scrubbed clean and looking far too composed for someone who was nearly eaten alive by something with claws. His stare is sharp and unreadable.
“You’re my mentor?”
“Hugo Tyler,” he says and crosses his arms, like he’s introducing a problem I now own.
“No blood today?”
“Not if you follow instructions.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah?” I say, looking at Izzy and her beefy mentor. “Are you going to tell me how you escaped whatever that thing was in the library?”
“Why? Planning on opening your mouth again?”
I blink, taken aback.
“Wow. Someone’s cranky.”
“You’d be too if you spent most of last week in a cell, being interrogated by Bullfred about where I was that night in the library.”
My chest tightens. “What?”
“They knew about the blood,” he says, stepping a little too close. “Someone told them. And seeing as you’re the only person who saw me—I know it was you.”
I stiffen. “I didn’t say anything. I swear.”
He holds my gaze, clearly weighing whether or not he believes me.
“Doesn’t matter. You owe me now,” he continues.
Before I can say anything else, Professor Ramsey’s booming voice calls me and Izzy to the center. We’re up first. The crowd jeers, hungry for a show, anxious to see the “Cleared” girl fail. I drag myself forward, but Hugo stays close, all business.
The four of us head to the middle pit and take our separate corners.
“Feet apart,” Hugo instructs, standing next to me in the sand. “Bend your knees. You look like you’re about to tip over.”
I begrudgingly adjust my stance.
Izzy watches, waiting for the go-ahead to start our match. The entire class circles us to watch.
“Fists up.”
I raise them.
Hugo squints. “Are you trying to leave your face wide open for attack, or is this just a personal style choice?”
I frown. “Excuse me for not being naturally violent.”
Before I can decide exactly how to reposition myself, he casually flicks a finger against my forehead.
I stumble back. “Ow!”
“See?” He steps closer. “Weak guard. No instincts.”
I scoff, straightening. “You’re a terrible coach.”
“You’re not coachable.”
Izzy clears her throat. “Uh, should we—”
“Yes, yes, I’m ready,” I say quickly, because I have bigger priorities than my ego getting repeatedly trampled in the dirt.
Izzy moves. Fast. Too fast.
She lunges, going for a jab to my side. I yelp and fling myself backward. The crowd snickers.
“Wrong,” Hugo says, sighing. “Don’t run. Block.”
“She’s really good,” I wheeze, barely ducking her next punch.
“Yeah, no kidding,” he mutters. “Try again.”
I try. I fail. Spectacularly.
Izzy sweeps at my legs, and I attempt—keyword: attempt—to jump. Instead, I trip over my own foot and eat dirt. Everyone laughs. I cringe at the thought that James just witnessed my embarrassing lack of talent.
“I hate this.” I groan on the sand.
“You hate being bad at it.” He crouches beside me, too close, too smug. “Up.”
I push myself up, sore, annoyed, and wildly unimpressed by Hugo’s entire existence.
Izzy offers me a sympathetic wince. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re doing amazing,” I say. “I’m just horrific.”
“This is pathetic,” Deirdre shouts from the sidelines, impatiently. “Fight already!”
We reset. I actually manage to block a punch this time, but it still knocks me off balance.
Hugo says. “Terrible execution.”
“Not helpful!” I shout back.
“Look at you. You’re so predictable,” he says, standing beside me. “Which is why you are losing.”
“Can you just stop?” I shout at Hugo and throw up my palm. As soon as I do, that same strange coil from the other day with Deirdre and the green goo drink, winds tight in my chest, buzzing under my skin. My hands tingle, my vision edges with white, and before I can blink— Snap.
A pulse rips out of my hand like a shockwave. Hugo’s eyes go wide just before he’s launched backward, sand spraying in his wake.
Half the class gasps. The other half immediately tap their temples to end a recording. By dinner, Trent Chernov would probably have a thumbnail of Hugo flying through the air with three red arrows pointing at him.
Professor Ramsey whips around at me. Izzy freezes mid-step.
I stare at my hand, still tingling. “What—what was that?” My voice is high, panicked. “I didn’t—”
Hugo lies flat on his back, blinking at the ceiling like he’s been personally offended by gravity.
Izzy says softly, eyes huge. “You just hit him with a control.”
I wheeze. “Oh my god.”
Slowly, way too slowly, Hugo sits up. His hair is ruffled. His clothes are covered in sand. And—because the universe is deeply unfair—he looks annoyingly good like that.
“Unbelievable,” Hugo mutters, brushing sand from his sleeves. I brace for rage.
Professor Ramsey has had it. He stomps toward me, radiating pure fury. “Lumen. Explain to me why you so flagrantly disregarded the ground rules? No controls.”
I flail. “I—I don’t know how I did that, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry—”
Ramsey, still looking not at all amused, cuts me off. “Where did you learn to do that?”
I blink. “I didn’t. I don’t even know what I did.”
Silence.
Then Ramsey decides on a consequence. “Well congratulations, Lumen. You’ve earned yourself an hour of detention with Professor Bullfred. You too, Tyler.”
“What? But I didn’t—”
“You were in charge of supervising her. You failed,” he said. “Get out of my sight, both of you. Next—Vadra and Thomas!”
Hugo and I move like molasses through the tunnels toward the Fishbowl, neither one of us in a hurry to find a transporter square. Guilt gnaws at my gut, but Hugo’s silence is worse than yelling. His jaw is tight. He hasn’t looked at me once.
“I’m sorry,” I say eventually. “About detention.”
“Don’t.” One word, flat and final. No room for forgiveness, no room for me.
“And I didn’t tell anyone about what I saw in the library.”
“Oh yeah?” he says. “When did you log out that night?”
I hesitate before admitting, “I didn’t logout. I can’t.”
Hugo gives me a strange look before saying, “I don’t believe you.”
We pass Rosie, who’s casually munching popcorn and gawking at two students making out under a flickering tunnel light.
As we pass underneath it, the light turns blue. Hugo glances up at it, scrunching his brow.
I say casually, “Hypothetically, if someone did want to know more about the monster in the library—”
“No.”
I frown. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“Because I already know the question. And the answer’s still no.”
He groans, stopping in his tracks, making me stop too. He looks over his shoulder to ensure we’re alone.
“You want to know why it’s down there? So do I. But if you keep poking around and blabbing your mouth, you’re going to get yourself killed before I figure out what it’s protecting.”
My voice drops. “So, you think it’s guarding something?”
It could be an exit.
It could be my ticket out of here.
He crosses his arms. “I think the Sen Academy doesn’t want us finding out.”
We continue walking, passing under another floating light. It turns blue briefly as we cross underneath it.
“Are you doing that?” he says, glancing up at the blue light that disappears as we pass.
“I’m not doing anything,” I say.
He gives me a look that screams he doesn’t trust me, not even a little bit.
“Hey, I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t rat you out. I want to find out what’s down there too, but I wouldn’t go asking a professor.”
It’s pathetic, how my chest tightens waiting for his reaction, like I need his approval just to breathe easier.
“Stay out of the library. And don’t go back down there,” he says gruffly, before turning onto a transporter square I hadn’t realized was nearby.
Who does he think he is? Giving me orders like I’m his kid sister or something.
If there’s even a chance that whatever’s hidden down there can get me out of this place—or help Leo—I’m going back. No matter what he threatens me with.
Because for the first time since arriving at Sen Academy, I finally have a lead.
And if Hugo’s right, if that monster is guarding something, then it might be the only way home.