The Flow Chamber looked… like a gas chamber. Or maybe a crematorium.
I had expected something futuristic—gleaming metal walls, holograms, or at least some kind of high-tech equipment. A meditation mat at the very least! But inside, there was nothing. The walls looked like they had been cast from raw iron, not even painted over. No buttons, no panels—just soft, dim lighting filtering through a grate above and a thick, much thicker, grate instead of a floor.
The centre of the floor grate was shinier, polished smooth from repeated use.
"Hurry up, hurry up!" the doc urged, giving me a shove in the back.
"Uh… Doc, quick question. The manual said to find a comfortable position. Any position?"
"I wouldn’t recommend standing on one leg or bending over backwards. What kind of question is that?"
"I mean, can I just lie down?" I asked. There weren’t any chairs, so lying on my back seemed like the most comfortable option.
"You can, though you won’t be stretching your legs in here."
The chamber really was on the small side, but if I lay diagonally, corner to corner… No, still not enough space. Whatever—I could just bend my knees. It was still better than sitting in a lotus position, even if my head rested against the hard metal edge of the grate. Unlike the centre, this part hadn’t been polished smooth.
"Alright, ready!" I finally said. No point in stalling—I had no idea what to expect anyway.
"Remember, you can’t control the flow! You have to let it pass through you!" the doc reminded me again, then added with a smirk, "So just relax and try not to die."
I gave him a thumbs-up, though I was tempted to use a different finger.
The doc shut the door, and the chamber darkened without the corridor’s light. The small window didn’t do much, but a soft blue glow began to flare behind the ceiling grate. When the light grew too bright, I shut my eyes—and felt it.
At first, the qi brushed against my hands—a faint tingling, like with the crystals…
I was sure I could control it.
And then, in the very next moment, I realised just how wrong I was. The gentle touch was immediately followed by a scalding wave. Heat engulfed me from every direction—my arms, my legs, my chest, my head. It flooded my eyes, burned down my throat, and crawled into significantly more intimate places—through equally intimate openings.
Control? Forget it. My body tensed instinctively, fighting back against the invisible force.
Big mistake!
It felt like the flow had suddenly grown heavier—like I hadn’t just been drenched in boiling water, but as if molten lava had been poured all over me, and my own body had instantly turned to stone. The qi flow didn’t just threaten to tear me apart—it crushed me against the floor.
Good thing I had decided to lie down instead of sit—otherwise, I would’ve collapsed for sure. Maybe even bashed my head on the metal and ended up with a nasty bruise and a pounding headache.
Every instinct screamed at me to get the hell out. I grabbed the grate and tried to push myself up. Pain exploded in my hands—like I was gripping searing-hot metal.
"Relax!" the doc’s voice cut through the roaring in my ears. "Let go!"
I clenched my teeth but forced my fingers to unclench, made myself exhale.
The pain in my hands eased, but now my jaw ached, my teeth throbbed. Relaxing my clenched jaw was harder than I expected, but eventually, I let go…
The qi ripped through me, surging like water through an opened floodgate. The crushing pressure vanished, but now every muscle, every nerve, every bone in my body burned. It did feel like a waterfall pouring through me—a waterfall of liquid fire. That’s the analogy they should have used in the manual!
This… this wasn’t something you controlled.
"Not bad!" the doc commented. "Pretty good for a first time."
I couldn’t answer.
Every part of me was focused on distancing myself from the pain, on not interfering with the raging force tearing through my body—and my soul. Eventually, the qi flow began to subside. The feverish heat faded, but my skin still tingled as if drenched in water.
I opened my eyes just in time to see the blue light behind the ceiling grate slowly dimming.
"That’s it?" I croaked. My throat was dry as hell.
"One more minute!" the doc’s voice came through—there must have been an internal speaker, because it sounded crystal clear.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
I instinctively tried to shake off the feeling of being soaked, only to realise… I was soaked.
Sweat. My clothes were drenched.
Breathing was hard. My heart pounded in my ears. My muscles trembled like I’d just finished an intense cardio workout. I mentally patted myself on the back for choosing to lie down.
As soon as the last traces of qi dispersed, the doc pulled the door open with a heavy clang.
I lifted my head to look at him.
"Well?"
The doc tapped his tablet a few times, then turned the screen toward me.
Cultivation Level: 37/2467
"Just ten minutes," he said.
I looked at the numbers. Then at him.
"That’s good, right?"
He burst out laughing.
"Congratulations, now that’s real progress. Come on, get up."
As I struggled to obey, trying to steady my trembling legs, the doc flagged someone down.
"Cadet, interested in earning an extra point?"
A dark-haired cadet, with Middle Eastern features and II insignias on his collar, raised an eyebrow.
"What’s the job?"
"Make sure this first-year survives the showers and makes it back to his room in one piece."
"That’s at least three points, Doc," the cadet tried to haggle.
The doc pulled a pen-like scanner from his pocket and tossed it at the cadet, hitting him square on the forehead. The scanner bounced right back into the doc’s hand.
"One point it is!" the cadet quickly changed his stance. "Come on, mate."
He offered me a shoulder, completely unfazed by the sweat soaking through my jumpsuit. Then again, he had sweat stains under his arms too. Looked like he had just come out of a Flow Chamber himself, though he’d handled it a hell of a lot better. Probably had far more experience. And since he’d made it through the culling process, maybe even talent.
Despite his higher status, the cadet wasn’t acting superior. Quite the opposite—he seemed pretty friendly.
"That’s it for today," the doc told me. "If I need more tests, I’ll send Diego."
He left first. Once he was far enough away, the cadet turned to me.
"What kind of tests?"
"Memory loss after the interface installation," I replied, sticking to my usual excuse.
"And what does that have to do with the Flow Chambers? You from an influential family or something?" The cadet wasn’t buying it.
"They told me I’m an orphan."
"Then, mate, they’re definitely lying to you. More likely, something serious happened, and the administration is just covering their arses."
"Thanks for the new phobia!" I joked.
"Anytime. I’ve got plenty!" The cadet waved his hand over his head as if measuring the sheer height of his paranoia.
"But no, seriously," he added, "I heard a few years back, they pulled a girl out of a pod—total vegetable. The administration kept her on the rosters for six months, then during a field mission, they marked her down as a casualty and buried her."
I nearly tripped. He’s joking… right?
His face was stone-cold. Either he was one hell of an actor, or he actually believed it.
"Shit like that happens around here," he hinted. "Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. That’s my advice."
Then, as if flipping a switch, his tone lightened.
"By the way! Since you’re not a vegetable, you should get some insurance money out of this. When the credits come in, hit me up—I know a lot of people here," he winked. "Might be useful. Here, take this."
We stopped, and the cadet fiddled with his interface, using his hands to guide the inputs.
A new notification flashed before my eyes.
Incoming message from: O. S. Hakim
Subject: Contact
Content: O. S. Hakim
"Thanks," I said. "You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some Yellow Pine blossom tea, would you?"
"Never even heard of it, but I’d guess the Yellow Pine School."
"You don’t have to guess. That’s exactly where you can get it," I replied sarcastically. "And here I thought you knew a lot of people…"
"I do, I do, don’t worry. But I need to ask around first. You don’t want someone selling you some fake knockoff, do you? I’ll check with my contacts."
"A simpler question, then. Where can I get some water?"
"The cafeteria, vending machines, or free from any tap. It’s all the same sterile water anyway. There’s a vending machine on the way."
Free from a tap… but what about the machine? Was that free too? Did I even have any money? I definitely didn’t have anything physical, but this was the age of digital transactions—maybe there was some kind of account in my interface?
"I’ll wait for the tap," I muttered.
The next few corridors all looked identical, like twins. Getting lost alone in this place would be a pain. I’d have to get familiar with the interface’s navigation system.
Eventually, I recognised the right sector, and the interface confirmed it. Just like with my locker, it displayed the names of the occupants when I focused on the door.
"Here," I said. Hakim helped me inside.
My roommates were already dressed in their uniforms—same as the supervisors’, but with an "I" insignia on the collar.
Bao, unsurprisingly, was ignoring everything around him. He sat in a lotus position on his top bunk, holding a blue crystal between his fingertips—three or four times larger than the ones the doc had used. He looked completely lifeless, lost in concentration.
"You look like a drowned rat," Marlon greeted me. Seemed like he was eager to know exactly what they had done to me in the med centre.
"Feels about right," I admitted. "What’d I miss?"
"There was an assembly," Denis answered. "They handed out the basics. I told the supervisors that the thinhorn took you on the doc’s orders, so no penalty points for you."
I glanced at my bed. A neatly folded stack of uniforms, underwear, and towels sat on top. Beside it were two pairs of shoes—silicone slippers and a pair of soft boots that matched the jumpsuit.
"I grabbed yours," Denis said.
He was clearly staking his claim as leader of our little pack—but not by force. Right now, he felt more like a mother hen.
"Thanks," I nodded and stretched to sort out what I needed for the shower.
"What are you doing?" Hakim asked as I set aside the fresh jumpsuit. Then he quickly remembered.
"Oh, right…," he said, tapping his forehead with his fist without any malice. "Just grab your underwear, a towel, and slippers—that’s all you’ll need. Move it!"
Easy for him to say. I just wanted to collapse right then and there. The bed was calling my name. But I followed orders.
"You," Hakim jabbed a finger at Denis. "You’re coming with us."
He led us to the showers, showed me where to drop off my dirty clothes and wet towel, then promptly dumped responsibility for me onto Denis.
"Make sure he doesn’t pass out and actually makes it back to bed," he instructed. Then, turning to me, "Start with cold water." He wiggled his fingers in a mock wave. "Ciao!"
The "cold" water here turned out to be downright freezing—but damn, it tasted good. I drank straight from the showerhead, then turned the temperature up a little. The shock of the cold woke me up just enough to keep me from falling asleep on the wet tiles, and I managed to make it back to my bed without Denis’s help.
And what a bed it was—soft, warm, inviting…
I blacked out instantly and slept like the dead until morning.