Alexander Voss blinked against the sudden flood of emerald light, his neural interface rapidly adjusting to provide optimal visual acuity. The air smelled of rich soil and vegetation—precisely as the preparation materials had described. He took a steady breath, activating his tactical assessment protocols just as he'd practiced countless times in simution.

  He stood in a small clearing ringed by towering trees, their canopies filtering sunlight into dappled patterns across the forest floor. Beside him, Elijah materialized with a slight gasp, his identical features momentarily sck with disorientation before his own neural interface calibrated.

  "Status report," Alexander said, his voice calm and measured.

  Elijah nodded, immediately falling into their practiced routine. "Interface synchronization at ninety-seven percent. Environmental data streaming. No immediate threats detected."

  Within seconds, their pre-selected team members appeared in sequence—Marcus Tullian materializing in a defensive stance, hand reflexively reaching for a weapon that hadn't yet been provided. Valeria Krane appeared next, her sleek form immediately scanning their surroundings with predatory efficiency. Finally, Riva Ellis completed their formation, her eyes darting to nearby flora with analytical interest.

  All according to pn. All according to hundreds of hours of preparation and strategy sessions.

  What wasn't according to pn were the other pyers materializing haphazardly throughout the clearing.

  Alexander frowned as he watched a young man in standard Worker-css attire stumble and fall to his knees, visibly disoriented. The boy couldn't have been older than Alexander's eighteen years, but the difference between them was stark—while Alexander stood tall and ready, neural interface smoothly integrating with Game systems, this pyer was struggling just to maintain consciousness through the transition.

  "This is... unexpected," Elijah murmured, carefully keeping his voice low enough that only Alexander could hear. "The entry protocols were supposed to separate us by css."

  Alexander's jaw tightened. "Evidently something's changed."

  Their father had assured them the initial deployment zones would be segregated—Architect and select Privileged-css entrants in the safer northern quadrant with its gentler learning curve, Servicers and Workers distributed through the more challenging southern and eastern zones. Mixing csses from the start introduced variables they hadn't prepared for.

  "Circle formation," Alexander commanded, and his team responded instantly, creating a defensive perimeter with practiced precision. "Marcus, perimeter assessment. Valeria, pyer evaluation. Riva, resource identification. Elijah, with me."

  As his team moved with crisp efficiency, Alexander noted the stark contrast between their coordinated actions and the chaos surrounding them. Dozens of newly-materialized pyers milled about in confusion—many still struggling with basic neural interface calibration, others wandering aimlessly or calling out for friends they'd been separated from.

  "Should we assist them?" Elijah asked quietly, his eyes on a young woman who appeared to be experiencing interface rejection, her body trembling as she struggled to process the sensory input.

  Alexander hesitated. Father's instructions had been clear: focus exclusively on team advancement, avoid entanglements with lower-css pyers who would only slow them down. Resources spent helping others were resources not devoted to their own survival and progression.

  Yet something in Elijah's expression made Alexander reconsider. While not officially part of their mission parameters, demonstrating leadership capabilities was certainly within the advancement criteria his father had established.

  "We'll establish our position first," Alexander decided. "Once we're secure, we can provide basic orientation to those nearby. It builds goodwill and establishes our authority."

  Elijah's slight smile told Alexander he'd made the right choice—at least for maintaining team morale.

  "Sir," Marcus Tullian approached, his military bearing evident in every movement. The former ProtectoCorp security officer was nearly a decade older than the twins, with combat experience that made him invaluable to their team. "Perimeter secure. No immediate threats, but suboptimal defensive position. Recommend movement to higher ground approximately three hundred meters northeast."

  "Noted. Valeria, report."

  The scout straightened, her VitaCore executive heritage evident in her perfect posture. "Twenty-seven pyers visible, predominantly Worker-css with a few Servicers. Most are completely unprepared. No other Architect-css teams identified."

  "Riva?"

  The young woman brushed soil from her hands. Unlike the others, the technical specialist from InfoSys seemed more fascinated than concerned by their surroundings. "Initial resource assessment complete. Potable water source fifty meters west. Identifiable medicinal pnts within immediate vicinity. Potential shelter materials abundant."

  Alexander nodded, absorbing the information with practiced efficiency. Their neural interfaces were functioning perfectly, their team was intact and performing as expected. Despite the unexpected pyer distribution, they held every possible advantage.

  And yet...

  "Look at them," Elijah murmured, watching as two young men argued over a fallen branch, neither seeming to understand even the most basic survival principles. "They have no idea what they're facing."

  Alexander followed his brother's gaze, observing the disorganized pyers with a mixture of pride and discomfort. His team's superiority was undeniable—the result of years of specialized training, premium neural interfaces, and detailed advance knowledge of the Game's systems. They had been prepared to compete against other elite teams, not to watch unprepared lower-css pyers struggle with basics.

  "Let's establish our base camp according to Protocol Seven," Alexander decided. "We'll use Formation C to move to the higher ground Marcus identified. Once established, we'll send Valeria to scout the surrounding area more thoroughly."

  As his team gathered their minimal starting equipment, Alexander activated his neural interface's tactile control panel, navigating through the native Game systems with practiced ease. Within seconds, he had accessed the Personal Library System—another advantage his father had prepared them to utilize immediately.

  The Library materialized beside him—not physically, but as a neural overy that appeared as solid as any object in the forest. Unlike the minimal access granted to standard pyers, Alexander's Architect-css interface provided an extensive collection from the moment of entry.

  "Environmental data cross-reference," he subvocalized, and the Library responded instantly, presenting a detailed analysis of their current location within Floor 1.

  Green Realm, Northwestern Quadrant, Section A-3. Favorable conditions for establishing forward base. Minimal predator activity recorded. Primary resources: Healing herbs (seven varieties within 100-meter radius), clean water source (rated 98% purity), natural shelter opportunities (elevated hollow recommended).

  Alexander smiled slightly. Everything was unfolding according to pn, despite the unexpected pyer distribution. He transferred the relevant data to his team's shared tactical dispy, watching as they each received and acknowledged the information through their own interfaces.

  "Alexander," Elijah said quietly, having moved to his side. "I've just accessed the communications protocols. They're not what we were briefed to expect."

  Alexander frowned. "Expin."

  "The direct channel to Oversight isn't active. All communications are being routed through standard Game systems. Father's priority channel isn't responding."

  This was the second deviation from their briefing. Alexander felt a flicker of unease, quickly suppressed. Adaptability was a core metric in advancement evaluation.

  "We proceed according to pn," he decided. "If communication protocols have changed, we'll adapt. Our primary objective remains unchanged."

  As he gave the signal to move out, Alexander cast one final gnce at the disorganized pyers behind them. Some had begun to form small groups, looking to those who dispyed any confidence for guidance. Others still stood alone, clearly overwhelmed by the transition.

  For a moment, Alexander imagined what it must be like to enter the Game without years of preparation—to be thrust into this environment with only the most basic neural interface and no strategic training. The thought was unsettling.

  "Movement in Formation C," he commanded, pushing the thought aside. "Marcus on point, Valeria rear guard. Maintain five-meter spacing, standard alert protocols."

  His team moved into position fwlessly, their synchronized movements a stark contrast to the chaos behind them. As they proceeded toward the higher ground, Alexander couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in their performance. This was what they had trained for. This was what they were destined to achieve.

  The Game would test them, certainly, but they were as prepared as anyone could possibly be. His father had seen to that. Years of specialized training, premium neural interfaces, and detailed knowledge of what to expect—advantages that the struggling pyers behind them could scarcely imagine.

  As they crested a small rise, Alexander paused to survey the forest stretching before them. Through his enhanced interface, he could already identify optimal hunting grounds, potential resource nodes, and the faint outline of what appeared to be a small settlement in the far distance.

  "This is where we begin," he said, more to himself than to his team. "This is where we prove ourselves worthy."

  Behind them, the clearing where they had materialized was already fading from view, along with the struggling pyers they had left behind. Alexander turned his focus forward, where their future—and their glory—awaited.

  If he felt any guilt about their overwhelming advantages, he didn't acknowledge it. After all, the Game was designed to identify and reward excellence. And excellence, as his father had reminded him countless times, was never accidental.

  It was prepared for, trained for, and seized when opportunity presented itself.

  And Alexander Voss was nothing if not prepared.