“Commence Phase One: Breach and Clear. User: Magnus Galven.”

A sharp buzzer quickly followed the woman’s voice on the loudspeaker, prompting the soldier into action. Despite his heavy boots, he made little noise rushing up the concrete stairs of the shack. He braced his back against the metal doorframe and checked the hinges. He couldn’t see any bolts, confirming that the door swung towards the inside of the room. Perfect, a kick could easily break it down.

Mag double-checked the bandolier that hung over his chest, half a dozen canisters hanging from the straps. He pulled one loose, making sure the mechanism that opened the lid was operational. A fine, black dust filled the canister, the man swirling it around once for good measure before snapping it closed with his thumb. Hopefully, he had trained hard enough for this exam, because having to resort to it meant he still had a long way to go.

The man waved a finger in the air, the silver plating of it shiny enough to reflect the violet sheen of his visor. Several bullets of various sizes began to orbit his hand as he quickly calculated which one was up to the task. Theoretically, any of them would be more than enough, but Mag wanted to roleplay as far as he could. He could rise to any military rank he wanted just by showcasing his abilities, but that wouldn’t align with his plan. If he wanted to truly resonate with the people he planned to lead, he needed to know their struggles. That included dealing with mundane things like tactics training.

‘Indoors. CQC. Smaller arms needed.’

The bullets froze mid-air, a 5.56 round breaking from the pack. Mag stuck out his thumb and forefinger, creating a vague gun shape and letting the bullet nestle in the corner he had created with his hand. Several more identical rounds floated to join it, lining up in a row and mimicking a standard-issue magazine in his palm. The ammunition he had chosen from dispersed, magnetically attaching to the squared blocks of his shoulder armor. Heavy caliber on the right, small on the left.

Mag turned, quickly shoving his foot into the door latch and kicking it open with inhuman strength. In reality, it wouldn’t have mattered if the hinges had been on the inside or outside to him, but he liked to do things by the book. His hand was immediately raised with his other bracing it, sweeping across the room and checking for hostiles. His head followed the motion with stunning precision, his eyes trained on the tip of his thumb for his sight.

“Clear!” he shouted, quickly moving through the entryway and into the living room and pausing to scan the hallway to his left. The lighting was dim and dark, only the glow of his magnetic panels and the visor seemed to illuminate the building, but that was plenty for him. Making yourself an easier target to spot wasn’t ideal in these types of operations, but Mag didn’t really have much of a choice. It didn’t help that most of the other grunts referred to him as “Horseshoe Head”, for the way the visor wrapped around the back of his skull like someone had managed a really sticky toss.

Mag had barely taken two steps before one of the enemy stand-ins flipped up from behind a musty-looking couch, a crude drawing of a Barrens raider scowling and pointing a machine gun at him. He quickly swung his fingers in the direction, locking onto the target and sending a pulse of energy down his arm. The bullet in his hand immediately shot forward at a blinding speed, piercing straight through the target and causing it to shatter into bits of clay.

He clicked his tongue. Mag didn’t have the luxury of a firing pin to his makeshift weapon, so sending the entirety of each round was about the best he could do. It was overkill most of the time, but at least it still worked the same.

Two more targets sprung out. One from the hallway and another from the window outside.

Mag quickly ducked down, rolling across the floor and behind the couch before blasting the hallway assailant with another shot. Another clean hit, another dead raider. He sat up, bracing his back against the couch. Mag gave a soft wiggle of his fingers in sequence, the two bullets he had already spent quickly flying back to him before placing themselves at the bottom of his hand and moving the next one in sequence.

A sudden hail of bullets shattered the glass of the window, simulated fire peppering the wall Mag was facing. Live rounds typically weren’t used in these types of exercises, but it wasn’t as if he was scared of getting shot. Bullets typically didn’t do much damage to Shutok, if any at all,

He popped up, aiming his finger gun and easily hitting the last target between the eyes. The top of the target was completely gone as if someone had lopped off his head. Mag calculated that he’d have to adjust his power output, he didn’t want to blow someone’s arm off with a 9mm round in the future. Humans were fragile things, using his abilities to their fullest strength didn’t sit right with him. What use was protecting a species when they would only fear you?

The buzzer rang once more.

“Exercise cleared. Well done,” came the coordinator’s voice.

“Are we moving on to Phase Two?” Mag asked her out loud, recounting his ammo and making sure he would be able to go the distance.

“If you’d like. I should warn you though, the Radiant Guard just showed up. They’re wondering why we have a single Shutok hogging all of the time slots lately.”

“Is there something wrong with me trying to train for the job I want?” Mag asked her, looking towards the observation deck. He could see the coordinator talking with a soldier in full kit, apparently trying to deescalate the situation. He supposed it was normal for them to be a bit upset.

Most people either worshipped Shutok or feared them. The Radiant Guard were the best of the best, at least when it came to those who weren’t blessed with the rare powers. He was far from the first Shutok to be elbowing in on their specialty, so Mag could understand some bad blood. If it weren’t for their lower numbers and typically “more important” jobs, standard fare military would have been replaced long ago. As far as Mag was concerned though, they were all on the same team. The only difference was that they used firearms, squad tactics, and were a hell of a lot more vulnerable. Mag? Well, he could lift a tank and throw it half a mile with just a wave of his hand.

“Alright, never mind. I get it,” Mag sighed. He walked out of the doorway he had breached from, jogging down the steps and towards a clearing in the training grounds. Several run-down buildings surrounded him on either side, circling what appeared to be a small town square. A circular gate was constructed in the middle, closing off a lengthy elevator shaft. “Let me finish Phase Four, and then the RG can have their fun.”

A brief silence passed before the operator responded from the loudspeaker, sounding a tad worried. “Are you...sure? You’ve barely warmed up.”

Mag shrugged his shoulders, turning to look over his shoulder at the window. “Real scenarios don’t allow for time to warm up. Plus, I’m sure the RG wouldn’t mind a bit of a show,” he replied. He really didn’t like to flaunt himself, but maybe it would at least get some of them off his back. His goal was to show them that they could work together and that both Shutok and military personal were necessary, even if it meant gimping his natural talents to bring himself on a more even playing field.

“Very well. Phase Four is typically rated for more advanced squadrons, so it should shut them up,” The operator replied, a slight smugness in her voice.

“Tell them they’re more than welcome to gear up and come join me,” Mag replied. He didn’t really have much of a “face” to his armor, so instead, he opted to point at the sharpened ends of the horseshoe fixture attached to his helmet and then towards the soldier in the observation deck.

A loud siren began wailing, flashing red lights on either side of the metal gate in the center coming to life. A low hum could be heard, signaling that something was coming up the elevator underneath.

“They say they’d rather watch. They’ll join you next time.”

“Suit themselves. Can’t say I didn’t offer.”

The square erupted in a loud hiss of smoke and steam, the gate began to slide open like a large manhole. The siren and the lights seemed to increase in pace as well. Mag extended his arm fully, bracing it with his other forearm. With his sights trained on the center, the Pulse Shutok watched as a gnarled hand rose from the depths of the elevator shaft. Several more seemed to follow, all gripping the edges. A concert of various growls, grunts, and screams could be heard resonating with the sirens as a writhing mass of bodies finally rose into view.

The Shutok reached for his belt, smirking beneath his helmet as he selected his weapon of choice; Shotgun shells. He held it between his fingers, summoning two more in sequence and fanning them along his knuckles. Mag repeated the process with his other hand, double fisting six shells as he did his best to count how many targets were among the group. Eight at least, though Mag could already tell some of them had some extra limbs. Slowly he made his way further into the clearing, crouching behind a concrete barricade as his visor began to shine just a bit brighter.

“Commence Phase Four: Honno Extermination.”