The sickly green beam guiding them towards Sector Delta pulsed with an insistent, almost nauseating rhythm. The archway it illuminated was no different from the others they had passed – a seamless curve of the same dark, luminous stone – yet it felt like a threshold to an even more unnerving phase of their ordeal. The group of processed players, now thinned to perhaps fifty souls, moved with a shared, apprehensive reluctance. Kenji found himself near Grizz again, the older man's silence a heavy counterpoint to the quiet whimpers and fearful whispers that occasionally broke from the others.
Beyond the archway, Sector Delta presented a stark contrast to the stark functionality of Gamma-7. This new chamber was vaster, its ceiling so high it was swallowed by an artificial, star-dusted nebula that shifted with slow, hypnotic patterns. The air hummed with a more complex, almost melodic series of tones, and instead of Proctors, the beings present were different. Taller, more slender than the Proctors, these new angelic figures possessed only two wings, but these were immense, intricate structures of what looked like solidified light, etched with flowing, luminous script that changed and reformed continuously. Their faces were serene, beautiful in a way that was utterly devoid of warmth, and each possessed four eyes that glowed with a soft, silver light, constantly scanning, assessing. They wore flowing robes of a material that shimmered like captured moonlight over subtle, form-fitting carapaces. If the Proctors were hounds, these were the aloof, intellectual keepers of some unfathomable celestial archive.
There were no queues here, no overt machinery. The silver-eyed beings, perhaps a dozen of them, simply glided among the newly arrived humans. As one approached a player, its luminous wings would flare slightly, and the script upon them would intensify. The player would stiffen, their eyes glazing over for a moment, before the angelic being moved on.
Kenji watched, his stomach twisting. This was clearly the "final classification," a more direct, perhaps psychic or aetheric, assessment. He saw a young woman crumple, sobbing, after one of the beings passed her. Another man, burly and aggressive-looking, suddenly bellowed in rage and lunged, only to be frozen mid-stride by an unseen force emanating from the nearest silver-eyed angel, his body encased in a shimmering, amber stasis field before being silently floated towards a dark recess in the wall.
The System interface of those "classified" would update. Kenji, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, caught glimpses:
[Final Classification: Labor Unit 7. Assignment: Geo-Excavation Ward 12.]
[Final Classification: Bio-Study Subject Grade Delta. Assignment: Vivisection Chamber 4.]
[Final Classification: Null-Potential. Assignment: Organic Reclamation Facility.]
Each designation was a cold, brutal summary of a future he couldn't bear to contemplate for himself. The term "Player" seemed to have been supplanted, replaced by these functional, dehumanizing labels.
Then, one of the silver-eyed beings, its light-script wings pulsing gently, stopped before him. Four silver orbs fixed on Kenji, and he felt a profound, invasive mental probe, far more intense than the scans in Gamma-7. It wasn't painful, but it was deeply violating, like having his innermost thoughts laid bare on a cold, sterile slab. He felt it assess his latent mana, his cognitive processes, even fleeting memories and emotional responses he'd tried to suppress.
The mental contact was brief, lasting only a few seconds, but it left him feeling exposed and hollowed out. The being's serene face remained utterly impassive. It glided away, and his System updated:
[Final Classification: Cognitive Auxiliary (Aetheric Trainee – Grade Gamma).]
[Assignment: Scholastic Conclave Epsilon – Primary Indoctrination.]
[Physical Conditioning Mandate: Level 1 Initiated.]
Cognitive Auxiliary? Aetheric Trainee? Kenji's mind raced. It sounded less immediately fatal than "Bio-Study Subject" or "Organic Reclamation," but "Indoctrination" sent a shiver of dread through him. Grizz, who had been assessed just moments before Kenji, caught his eye and gave a grim, almost imperceptible shake of his head. His own interface briefly showed: [Final Classification: Labor Unit 3. Assignment: Deep Forge Maintenance.]
The silver-eyed beings began to gesture, their movements fluid and economical. Players were now being actively sorted, guided by invisible currents of force towards different archways that glowed with distinct hues – red, grey, a dull brown, and for Kenji and a small handful of others, a stark, intellectual white. Families, the few that had managed to stay together, were ruthlessly separated, their cries and pleas ignored by the serene, silver-eyed sorters.
Kenji now stood within a small contingent of about ten souls, each countenance reflecting a similar shade of wary apprehension to his own. The assortment was eclectic: several bore the quiet mien of intellectuals or those accustomed to structured environments, while two younger members possessed notably keen and perceptive expressions. A shared characteristic appeared to be an inner absorption, a still and thoughtful presence. Their collective assignment as 'Cognitive Auxiliaries' or 'Aetheric Trainees' provided minimal comfort against the backdrop of their circumstances. A portal, radiating a clinical white sheen, seemed to pull them onward. As they passed through this opening, the multifaceted drone of Sector Delta diminished, succeeded by a heavy, almost scholarly hush.
They were in another long corridor, but this one was lined with what looked like individual cells or study carrels, each sealed by a translucent energy barrier. At the far end stood a new angelic figure, different again – this one possessing no visible wings, its form clad in severe, scholar-like grey robes, its face ancient and lined, with eyes that burned with a cold, analytical fire. This being held a data slate and regarded them with an air of weary impatience.
"Grade Gamma initiates," its voice resonated in their minds, sharp and clear. "You will each occupy an indoctrination module. Your preliminary study materials are pre-loaded. Cognitive assimilation begins momentarily. Deviation from curriculum is… counter-productive."
The final word hung in the air, carrying an unspoken weight far heavier than any physical threat. Their classification was complete. The next stage of whatever this alien empire had in store for them was about to begin.