Divine Milking System-Chapter 86 | Midnight Foxes and Morning Dread

The simulation bay opened at five-thirty in the goddamn morning.

I stood outside the entrance in my academy-issued tactical suit, black synthetic material that hugged every curve and bulge of my body in ways that made me acutely aware I still had at least twenty pounds to lose. The suit had sensors embedded throughout the fabric, tiny nodes that would track movement, impact force, vitality signs. Everything got recorded. Everything got analyzed.

My team looked like a disaster waiting to happen.

Naomi stood three feet away from me. Her pink and black striped hair was pulled back tight. Her tactical suit fit her tall frame perfectly, showing off those long legs and the curves that had been pressed against me two nights ago. She wasn’t looking at me. Hadn’t looked at me since she’d left my apartment last night after Belle stormed out.

Belle was worse.

She stood on my other side, arms crossed, amber-brown eyes burning holes through my skull every time I glanced her direction. Her blue hair hung loose today. Her tactical suit strained across her chest in a way that reminded me exactly what I’d been drinking from six hours ago. She caught me looking. Her glare intensified.

Yeah. I fucked up.

Jordan was the only one who seemed normal, which meant he looked like death warmed over. His grey eyes were half-closed. His tactical suit hung loose on his skinny frame. He kept yawning every thirty seconds.

"I hate mornings," Jordan mumbled for the fifth time. "Why do we have to do this before breakfast?"

"Because Misato made a deal," I said.

"I hate deals."

"You hate everything."

"That’s accurate."

Misato appeared around the corner, already moving at that confident jog that made her lime green ponytail bounce. Her tactical suit fit her athletic build like it was painted on. The sensors across her shoulders and thighs glowed faint blue, already synced to her system.

She looked at us and grinned. "Good. You’re all here."

"We’re all suffering," Jordan corrected.

Misato ignored him. She walked up to the security panel next to the simulation bay entrance and pressed her thumb against the scanner. The door hissed open, revealing the massive facility beyond.

"Listen up." Misato turned to face us. Her expression went serious. "I had to do Blair’s homework for the next two weeks to get us this time slot."

My eyebrows went up. That was a hell of a trade.

"Blair had homework?" Jordan asked.

"Advanced mana theory. Thirty-page essay on crystallization patterns in B-rank cores." Misato’s eye twitched. "I spent four hours on that paper last night."

Belle whistled. "That’s dedication." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"That’s desperation," Misato shot back. "So you’re going to thank me for sacrificing my sleep and my sanity by giving this everything you have. Got it?"

"Got it," I said.

Naomi nodded silently.

Belle shrugged.

Jordan yawned again.

"Jordan," Misato said slowly. "I will personally jump you with four of my clones if you fall asleep in there."

"Noted."

We filed into the simulation bay.

The space was massive. A dome structure rose at least sixty feet above us, the ceiling a perfect hemisphere of reinforced metal and glass panels. The floor was concrete now, but I could see the projection nodes embedded throughout the surface, thousands of tiny emitters ready to transform the environment into whatever scenario the techs programmed.

A control booth sat at ground level behind reinforced glass. Two technicians were already inside, a woman with short black hair and a guy with glasses who looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

The woman waved at Misato. Misato waved back.

"Sato’s running point today," Misato explained. "She’s good. Won’t kill us by accident."

"That’s reassuring," Belle muttered.

Sato’s voice crackled through the overhead speakers. "Morning, Midnight Foxes. Your squad leader submitted a request for E-rank rainforest scenario. Environmental hazards enabled. Monster type: Hollow Crawlers. Confirm?"

Misato looked at me. "That what you wanted?"

I’d requested Hollow Crawlers specifically after Cross’s lecture. The monsters that identified the weakest squad member within forty-five seconds and focused everything on taking them down.

If we were going into real gates on Friday, I needed to know exactly how fast I’d get targeted.

"Confirmed," I called up to the booth.

"Copy that." Sato typed something on her console. "Suits are synced. Stats will display on your HUD once simulation begins. Standard rules apply. Lethal damage disables your suit and pulls you from the scenario. Injuries are simulated through neural feedback at twenty percent intensity. You’ll feel pain but nothing permanent. Emergency stop available if things go south."

"How south are we talking?" Jordan asked.

"You die, we pull you out. You get hurt, you deal with it."

"That’s barbaric."

"That’s training." Sato grinned. "Positions, everyone. Dome activation in sixty seconds."

We spread out. Misato took point in the center. Naomi moved to her left with her staff. Jordan positioned himself right, already extending his hand to check his shadow bind range. Belle hung back near the rear, one hand on the tactical knife strapped to her thigh.

I stood between Naomi and Belle.

Neither of them acknowledged my presence.

The air between us was so thick I could taste it.

My HUD flickered to life.

The dome hummed. Energy rippled through the floor.

The concrete vanished.

Trees erupted from nothing. Massive trunks covered in moss and vines shot up around us, branches spreading overhead to create a canopy so dense it blocked out the artificial sky. Undergrowth appeared next. Ferns, bushes, strange glowing flowers that pulsed with faint bioluminescence. The air became humid. Hot. I could smell dirt and rotting leaves and something else underneath. Something sharp and metallic.

Blood.

The rainforest stretched in every direction. I turned in a slow circle. The dome walls were invisible now, hidden behind the projection. It looked real. It felt real. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we’d been teleported into an actual gate.

"Positions," Misato said quietly. Her voice carried through the simulation. "Crawlers hunt in packs of eight to fifteen. They coordinate. They adapt. And they will go for the weakest link first."

She looked directly at me when she said that last part.

"Monroe, you’re bait."