Divine Milking System

The California sun baked everything beneath it into submission. Even the bugs had given up, hiding somewhere in the shade while we sweated our asses off in the training field.

"This is actual torture," Belle groaned, her blue hair plastered to her forehead. She’d tied it back in a ponytail, but strands had escaped to frame her flushed face. Her white tank top clung to her curves, soaked through with sweat. "It’s Sunday. Why are we here? Why are we doing this?"

I watched her bend over, hands on her knees, catching her breath. The view almost made the heat worth it.

"Eyes up, Monroe," she snapped without looking.

I grinned. "I was just admiring your form."

"You’re admiring something," Jordan muttered from where he lay spread-eagle on the grass. "Ninety-two degrees. On a weekend. After we already proved ourselves yesterday. This is a crime against humanity."

Naomi stood a few feet away, her pink hair darkened with sweat but her posture still perfect. She twirled her staff in a steady rhythm, not breaking stride even as sweat rolled down her neck and disappeared into her sports bra.

"The gate season doesn’t care if it’s hot," she said, though I could hear the fatigue in her voice. "Gates open every day."

"Yeah, but we don’t have to clear them every day," Belle countered. "That’s what the ranking system is for. We rank high enough, we get to pick our gates."

"And how exactly do you plan to rank higher if you don’t train?" Misato’s voice cut through our complaints like ice water.

She stood at the edge of the field, clipboard in hand, lime green ponytail swinging as she walked toward us. Unlike the rest of us, she looked perfectly composed. Not a drop of sweat, not a hair out of place. Either she had some secret cooling ability or she was actually a robot. Both seemed equally plausible.

"We already ranked seventh," Belle said, straightening up. "That puts us in the top ten."

"And is top ten the same as top five?" Misato asked, stopping in front of Belle with a raised eyebrow.

Belle opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Didn’t think so." Misato looked at each of us in turn, her gaze lingering on me a beat longer than the others. "Starting next week, we bid for gates."

"Bid?" Jordan sat up, suddenly interested. "Like, with points?"

"With money," Misato clarified. "Or technically, with credits from your stipend."

My stomach dropped. Credits meant money. Money I didn’t have because I’d been spending it on fancy chocolate cake slices for hot orange-haired girls.

"The academy opens Tier 1 gates to first-years who place in the top fifteen in the monthly rankings first," Misato continued. "Teams bid for clearing rights. The highest bidder gets first pick, second highest gets second pick, and so on."

"And the benefit of clearing gates is...?" I asked, already knowing but wanting her to say it aloud.

"Credits. Lots of them." Misato’s eyes gleamed. "Each gate drops cores that the academy buys back at market rate. A good run in a Tier 1 gate can net a team anywhere from five thousand to fifteen thousand credits, depending on the core count and quality."

"Split five ways," Belle said, doing the math. "That’s one to three thousand each."

"Correct. Plus, your score factors in clear time, core count, credit return, and whether anyone gets injured. Place high enough in the rankings, and you qualify for higher tier gates the following month."

Jordan whistled. "Higher tier means bigger payouts."

"And bigger monsters," Naomi added quietly.

"And higher rankings." I finished.

"Exactly," Misato nodded. "This is why we train. Because in two weeks, we’re going into our first real gate as a team, and I don’t plan on carrying any dead weight."

Her eyes fixed on me again. "Monroe."

"Yes?"

"Your weird ability. It lets you use Love and Fox’s abilities, right?"

I tensed. How much did Misato know? Well... I wasn’t hiding it completely. "Yeah."

"That’s going to be our X-factor." She tapped her clipboard. "Most teams have one strategy: hit hard and fast. But with your abilities, we can maximize our core retrieval. That means more money, higher scores."

Belle shot me a look that screamed "don’t tell her the truth." I didn’t need the warning. The last thing I wanted was for Misato to know I was stealing girls’ abilities through sexual encounters. That conversation would go over about as well as a fart in church.

"I’ll do my best," I said.

"You’ll do better than that," Misato countered. "We need to be in the top five by winter evaluation. That means clearing gates faster, finding more cores, and coming back with zero injuries. Which means—" she spun around, addressing the whole team "—we need to be constantly vigilant. Every day we waste lounging around is a day teams like Blair’s are getting stronger."

"Speaking of Blair," Jordan ventured, "any fallout from yesterday’s rankings?"

Misato’s face hardened. "She’s... displeased. But focused on winter evals. She knows they matter more."

"So she’s planning something," Belle translated.

"Most likely," Misato agreed. "Which is why we need to get stronger. Fast."

She clapped her hands. "Enough talk. Ten laps around the field, then combat drills. After that, we’ll work on formations with Monroe’s new abilities integrated."

Everyone groaned, but nobody argued. We all knew she was right. If we wanted to stay in the top spots—if we wanted to reach the top five—we needed to be better.

As we began our laps, Belle fell into step beside me, keeping her voice low.

"Your ’treasure sense’ isn’t going to cut it for an X-factor," she whispered. "We need something bigger if we’re going to stay competitive."

"I know," I admitted. "Wave Motion helps, but it’s not enough."

"What about that thing you stole from Aurora?" She glanced at me. "The sense thing?"

"Sensory Hijack," I corrected. "And maybe. I’m still figuring out how to use it effectively in combat."

"Well, figure it out faster," she hissed as Misato looked our way. "We need every advantage we can get."

We picked up the pace, the conversation ending as we separated. But Belle’s words stuck with me. She was right. If we wanted to make top five, I needed to be more than just the guy who could find hidden loot or shoot energy blasts.

I needed to be our secret weapon.

Two hours later, my legs felt like overcooked noodles and my lungs burned. Sweat had soaked through my shirt so thoroughly that I’d just taken it off, much to the apparent interest of both Belle and Naomi, though neither would admit it.

"Again," Misato ordered, standing in the center of our formation. "Monroe, Wave Motion from the right flank. Love, suppressing fire from the center. Fox, call out targets. Wayne, shadows on perimeter defense."

We moved into position for what felt like the hundredth time. My Endurance stat might have improved, but my patience was wearing thin.

"On my mark," Misato called, raising her hand.

Just as she was about to drop it, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, seeing Aurora’s name on the screen.

Lunch? Or are you too busy with your harem maintenance?

I smiled despite my exhaustion. Aurora had a way of cutting through the bullshit.

"Monroe!" Misato’s voice snapped me back to reality. "Is there something more important than training happening on your phone?"

I quickly shoved it back in my pocket. "No, sorry."

"Then focus. We’re going full speed this time."

She dropped her hand, and we launched into motion. Jordan’s shadows spread out in a perimeter, dark tendrils stretching across the ground. Naomi stepped forward, staff whirling as she fired blasts of energy at the training dummies. Belle called out positions rapid-fire, her enhanced senses allowing her to track multiple targets at once.

And me? I ran to the right flank, energy gathering in my palm. With my upgraded Wave Motion, the blast formed faster, bigger, more stable. I fired at the furthest dummy, watching with satisfaction as the basketball-sized energy projectile slammed into it, sending straw and fabric flying.

But I didn’t stop there. Using the momentum from the recoil, I activated Wave Motion through my feet, propelling myself into the air. The sensation was incredible—like flying but with complete control. I twisted mid-air, firing three more blasts in quick succession, each finding its target.

I landed in a crouch behind the dummies, exactly where I’d planned to be. The whole sequence had taken less than ten seconds, and I’d barely used any stamina.

The field fell silent. I looked up to find everyone staring at me.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Did I mess up?"