9.

**CHAPTER NINE.**

The training room is much larger than I expected, with high ceilings and walls covered in shiny, futuristic panels and huge plasma TV's. Various pieces of equipment are scattered around—everything from standard gym machines to what looks like techs that I suppose will be used to combat the aliens. There’s another large screen on one wall displaying a rotating holographic model of a planet—Xyriel, no doubt. The atmosphere is intense, buzzing with energy, as the recruits gather in small clusters, whispering to each other or checking out the equipment. A lot of them seem to have made friends with each other.

“Just stay with the rest, I need to address everyone,” Caitlyn tells me as she moves to the front of the room, looking every bit like a drill sergeant with her arms crossed and a stern expression.

I spot a few familiar faces from the cafeteria, including the Wendy logos looking guy with red hair and even Xyriel. He's alone as usual. I look away from him and immediately fall into line with the others.

“Welcome to survival training,” Caitlyn begins, her voice loud and authoritative, cutting through the murmurs. She feels different from the Caitlyn that was just conversing with me minutes ago. “With this week's training, you’ll be pushed to your limits, not only physically, but mentally, and emotionally. You’ll not just be learning how to survive there on Xyriel, an entirely different planet with conditions different from the ones on earth, but you'll also be learning how to save earth from its impending doom.”

Her eyes scan the room, pausing on each of us as if gauging our readiness. I don’t flinch under her gaze, though I do feel a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

“Today’s focus,” Caitlyn continues, “is in sixfold. Firstly, navigation, simulation spacewalk training, spacecraft system training, centrifuge training, first aid and a bit of self defense. You’ll be split into groups, rotating between stations. Each station is designed to simulate real-life scenarios of space itself. You need to take this seriously because your lives will depend on these skills to help survive on planet Xyriel that can and will kill you if you’re not prepared.”

I glance around at the other recruits, and some of them look more excited than nervous. Me? I’m somewhere in between. There's a particular woman at the back of the room that cracks her knuckles, looking like she’s ready to take on a UFC championship title. Xyriel looks bored as always. Great. I just hope no one expects me to be some ace.

“First station,” Caitlyn says, pointing to a section of the room where several high-tech machines and some things that look like maps are set up. “Navigation. You’ll learn how to use the mapping devices we’ve designed for Xyriel’s terrain. The planet’s magnetic field is unstable, which means compasses and standard GPS systems are useless. You’ll need to rely on other means to find your way which includes memorizing the map our scientists worked day and night on.”

A tall man with graying hair steps forward. He’s clearly the expert for this part of the training. “I’m doctor Steinberg, head researcher for mission save planet earth. My team and I came up with this map of Xyriel. Follow me,” he says in a gruff voice, leading the group toward the station.

The navigation training turns out to be more challenging than I expected. The devices we’re given look like a Ben 10 wristwatch, each with a small holographic screen that projects a map of Xyriel’s surface. The problem is, the map keeps shifting, changing as the planet’s magnetic field fluctuates. The man, who introduces himself as Dr. Steinberg, explains that we’ll need to use visual markers—landscapes and certain landmarks, rock formations, and weather patterns—to navigate since the terrain is volatile.

“It’s advisable to trust the land, and not the tech,” Dr. Steinberg says as we struggle to make sense of the constantly shifting maps. There's some murmuring in the room, and I can tell everyone is as confused as I am. Everyone, except Xyriel. Yes, he still looks bored. “Your eyes and instincts should be your best tools on the planet.”

I’m seated on the floor amongst others, frowning as I try to adjust my Ben 10 wristwatch. The map on it keeps spinning wildly, almost like it’s mocking me. I tap it a few more times, but nothing works. “Great. So I'm basically failing at this,” I mutter under my breath.

Beside me, the girl who cracked her knuckles earlier laughs, her voice low and amused. “Hey, I believe anyone who survives the American prison system should find this easy, right?”

I snort, glancing at her. “Fair point.”

“I’m Amanda, by the way,” she introduces herself, flashing a grin.

“Ophelia,” I say, still gauging her as I fumble with my wristwatch.

Her baby-blue eyes twinkle like stars at night, and the grin doesn’t fade. “Nice to meet you, Ophelia.”

Amanda’s short and petite, but the muscles beneath her tank top show she works out a lot. Her hair, though, is a different story—tinted in a shade of baby blue that’s more like a dusty blue now, like someone halfway gave up on dyeing it properly. Still, she’s got an energetic vibe that’s infectious.

“What’s the problem with the map?” Amanda asks, leaning over to take a closer look at my wristwatch.

“The question should be what problem am I *not* having with the map,” I reply, half-jokingly.

She chuckles and reaches out to hold my wrist, turning the watch slightly to get a better view. “I won’t lie—I’m in the same boat as you. I really don’t know how to read this thing.”

We both burst into laughter, our voices echoing through the room, loud enough to catch the attention of a few other recruits, some nearby scientists, and, unfortunately, the survival coaches.

“Having trouble with the map navigation, Ophelia?” Caitlyn suddenly appears in front of me, arms crossed. She’s not alone either. Next to her stands a guy built like a wall—cropped dirty blonde hair, broad shoulders, the whole deal. He looks like someone who’d star as a high school bully in a bad teen drama…Arnold Schwarzenegger type of guy. Before I can answer, Caitlyn tosses a digital tablet at me. I fumble and barely catch it before it smacks me in the face. She grins. “Your reflexes could definitely use some work.”

“Thanks, my dear babysitter. Always the motivational speaker,” I mutter sarcastically, turning my attention to the tablet. It’s a larger, more detailed version of the map on my wristwatch. Xyriel, the planet, not the guy. Although, at this point, who knows? He’s mysterious enough to have a whole planet named after him.