THE NEXT MORNING BEFORE THE MISSION
The soldier's schedule was unusual—waking hours were flexible, but limits still applied. As usual, the siblings were the last ones to wake up.
Sarah woke up facing her brother, who was still asleep. She nudged him gently.
"Seth, wake up..." Sarah said softly.
Seth stirred, waking from the smallest of noises. Stretching his legs first while still lying down, he followed with his arms, rolling over since he slept on his stomach.
"Mhhh... Training today?" Seth murmured groggily.
"Yep, mostly runs," Sarah replied casually.
Their training schedule wasn't mandatory, yet the siblings adhered to it religiously, assuming it was required. This dedication was why they were the best soldiers in N.U.R.O.
Sitting up, Seth grinned at Sarah for no apparent reason.
"What's so funny?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Honestly, nothing," Seth chuckled. "I don't know why I'm laughing."
Their laughter became infectious, filling the room. Rising, they stretched and dressed in their uniforms. Unlike the others, they trained first and ate later—a privilege afforded to N.U.R.O.'s heroes, who could eat whenever they wanted.
Fully dressed, they left the barracks and walked through the halls of the N.U.R.O. base. Perched atop a mountain, the base was constantly engulfed in snowstorms. They headed to the training hall—a small building precariously situated at the edge of the mountain.
Inside, the hall was stark and functional, containing suits with helmets and a central elevator. The standard suits were brown, basic in design, with no glowing visors or advanced technology.
In contrast, the siblings' suits, locked securely in bulletproof and bombproof displays, stood out. Although classified as training suits, they were powerful prototypes developed by the father organization, I.A.R.O.
Seth's suit was heavily armored and loaded with advanced tech. Its sleek black frame was accented with pulsating red LEDs, including a visor that glowed menacingly. The left shoulder displayed the words "C.S. Battle Suit Prototype," while the right read "Blood Noir."
Sarah's suit shared the same black design but featured vibrant purple highlights instead of red. Both suits were tailored perfectly—Sarah's suit emphasized an hourglass silhouette, while Seth's projected broad shoulders and a stern posture.
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The siblings opened the displays, and the suits stepped forward, their backs opening for entry. Climbing in, their visors lit up in their respective colors. Blades of laser light extended from their wrists, glowing purple for Sarah and red for Seth.
"Ready?" Sarah's voice, distorted by the suit's voice changer, sounded slightly more feminine.
"Yes, let's go," Seth replied, his voice deepened by the distortion.
The elevator was pristine white, equipped with railings and cameras in each corner. After selecting a floor, the siblings fastened themselves into seatbelts attached to the walls and held hands.
The descent began smoothly but quickly accelerated. A display showed their position: "14,000 ft" gradually changing to "-2,000 ft." The high-speed descent mimicked the sound of a helicopter engine.
As they approached "-4,000 ft," the elevator slowed, thanks to the suits countering the gravitational forces. When a green LED indicated it was safe, the siblings unbuckled and exited.
The training room was massive—spanning the equivalent of three football stadiums. Soundproof panels lined the walls, and the space was outfitted with everything from running courses to shooting ranges.
Tables of weapons and ammunition crates were stocked daily near the entrance. Seth grabbed an I.A.R.O. C.S. Plasma Repeating Rifle, a weapon superior to even German laser guns.
Sarah selected a Civilian Security Big Plasma Nuclear Gun (BPNG). As the team's saboteur, her focus was precision, while Seth, the main fragger, specialized in brute force.
"Alright, first run—no shooting," Seth suggested, securing his weapon on his back via magnetic locks.
Sarah pressed a button near the entrance. Turrets emerged, and obstacles began to move.
An alarm blared—the signal to begin. The siblings sprinted, their suits enhancing their agility by 200%, thanks to power cores embedded in their stomachs.
Moving like shadows, they reached speeds of 50-90 km/h, depending on the terrain. The suits' Bullet Tracing Alert System guided their movements, predicting turret fire.
Sarah led the charge, with Seth close behind. The final stretch featured a 50-meter gap filled with moving obstacles and heavy turret fire. They leaped, their legs extended forward, aided by the suits' safety mechanisms for soft landings.
Reaching the platform, they stopped in perfect synchronization. The obstacles froze, and the turrets retracted.
"Not even hit once!" Sarah exclaimed, barely out of breath.
"And faster time, too," Seth added with a grin. "But now, with guns."
Sarah pressed another button, and the alarm signaled the start of round two. This time, target dummies appeared, and the course became more aggressive.
Running at full speed, Seth fired his plasma rifle, hitting 60% of his targets—a feat well above the average soldier's accuracy of 25%.
Sarah, with her BPNG, aimed at clustered targets. When she fired, the green plasma blast erupted with a deafening roar, creating a massive mushroom cloud. The force briefly disrupted her balance, but the suit stabilized her.
Seth, caught in the blast's shockwave, stumbled but quickly regained composure.
Despite the chaos, they maintained their pace, arriving at the finish line with a record time of 58 seconds—beating their previous best of 1 minute, 3 seconds.
"Hell yeah!" Sarah cheered, punching the air.
Seth smirked. "That was cool, what you did with the BPNG mid-air."
"Oh, shush," Sarah replied, nudging him playfully.
Without missing a beat, Seth hit the button for another round.
"Ready?" Sarah asked, getting into position.
"Always am, sissy," Seth replied, determination etched in his voice.
