My Divine system-Chapter 44: showing off

The students were guided into a vast battle room, the doors hissing shut behind them with a finality that sent a shiver down Michael’s spine. Only the top 100 had been selected, a fact that both terrified and, in a twisted way, emboldened him. He knew, with a certainty that settled like a lead weight in his stomach, that the moment for deployment was about to commence. To be brutally frank, he wasn’t ready. Not even remotely ready to face whatever creatures of the dark – or whatever monstrous things they truly were awaited them no one really knew much about the monster’s in the dungeon or how they came about.

His eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene. The harsh, flickering fluorescent lights cast long, dancing shadows, adding to the already palpable tension. Already, figures stood within the room, their forms silhouetted against the unforgiving glare. They were here, the others, the prepared ones. They were pulling on full sets of leather suits, the material gleaming with an unnatural sheen. The suits masked their faces, concealing every feature, every hint of expression.

"Talk about looking like a bunch of cultists," Michael thought, his mind racing, trying to process the unfolding situation. He couldn’t help but wonder who these people were, and what their agenda was. What were they doing here? Why were they dressed like that? It felt wrong, unsettling, the very air thick with a sense of impending dread.

An instructor, a man Michael didn’t recognize, stepped forward. He was a stranger, a face he’d never seen throughout his entire training. He didn’t seem interested in pleasantries, or even basic introductions. He simply began, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

"Each of you will be sent to a portion of the city. Your prime task is to protect the city. Don’t worry, every citizen has been evacuated, so feel free to go all out."

The instructor’s words hung in the air, a command given with cold efficiency. He didn’t offer any details, no words of encouragement, nothing beyond the bare minimum of information. He clearly didn’t care about their personal feelings. It was a stark reality check. The weight of their mission settled on Michael’s shoulders, heavy and suffocating. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had a duty, a terrifying responsibility. He would have to fight. And he would have to find the strength within himself to survive.

"These are the teleportation division," the instructor stated, his voice devoid of warmth, as he gestured towards the masked figures. Their leather-clad forms stood rigid, a silent, unsettling presence. "They are here to ensure you reach the position assigned to you properly and safely."

He paused, letting his words settle, allowing the weight of the moment to sink in. The silence that followed was broken only by the hum of the fluorescent lights and the ragged breaths of the students. It was a silence filled with anticipation, dread, and a shared understanding of the danger that lay ahead.

"As of currently, the monsters have already crossed the city borders and are heading deep into the city. Our intel has provided us with all necessary information needed." The instructor’s tone remained clinical, as if he were delivering a routine briefing, rather than the chilling truth of their situation. Michael’s heart hammered against his ribs. Monsters. The word alone conjured images of nightmare fuel, of grotesque, unholy forms.

"Each of you will be teleported to your designated position mid-air. It is, therefore, in your own best interest to secure your landing and immediately clear a position for yourselves. This means you must initiate with a significant, powerful attack from the start. Something strong enough to clear an area for you to fight, to push back any immediate assault. Your safety will be largely dependent on your first strike."

His words painted a clear picture of the challenge ahead. Teleportation, mid-air drops, and immediate combat. There would be no time to acclimatize, no opportunity to gain the upper hand. He would have to act fast and attack fast. Michael knew the implications. He’d been taught combat in close range. He was never prepared for this and if he were to fail, he was sure he would die. He glanced at the other students, saw the fear mirrored in their eyes. He took a deep, steadying breath, reminding himself of all the hours of training, of the simulated battles, of the necessity of focus. He had to survive. He had to fight.

"You all have about a minute to prepare yourselves," the instructor said, his voice clipped and final, before turning and striding away. His departure left a palpable vacuum of tension in the room. The masked figures of the teleportation division remained motionless, their presence a silent, unsettling reminder of what was to come. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Immediately, the students sprang into action. A flurry of movement and energy erupted as they began to summon their armor and weapons. The room transformed into a chaotic symphony of sparking lights . Some, boasting a display of wealth and power, even went as far as summoning their familiars bound to their wills, a clear demonstration of strength and status.

Envy, a bitter undercurrent, flowed through the ranks. Some students watched with a mixture of awe and resentment, their faces etched with longing. They were the ones who didn’t possess wealth, the spectral entities that could grant immense power and summon familiars. They were the ones who would have to rely on their own skills and resolve, a daunting prospect against the unknown horrors that awaited them.

"I think the Fiend Wolf could hold its own against this guy’s," Michael murmured, his gaze fixed on a particularly formidable familiar, a towering beast of pure shadow. His own familiar, the Fiend Wolf, was a dungeon boss, a powerful creature in its own right. Even though the Fiend Wolf was an Awakened familiar, just like Michael, it possessed significant strength. Michael let out a sigh, summoning forth the Blackcoil Armor.

A vibrant spark of light erupted, The light expanded and contracted, and as it faded, it revealed the full form of the armor, encasing Michael’s body was an armor made up of small black scales, overlapping, and tightly interlocked, forming a flexible yet durable shell across the entire body. The scales varied subtly in size, finer along the joints for ease of movement and broader across the chest and back for added protection. Each one carried a natural, matte finish, textured with shallow grooves that gave the surface a reptilian, almost fluid appearance.

The chestplate curved smoothly along the torso, segmented with layered panels that allowed it to shift with each breath or motion. A raised, coiled serpent pattern was embossed across the center, not painted but integrated directly into the shape of the scales themselves, catching light at certain angles to give the illusion of movement.

Shoulder guards flared slightly outward, their edges serrated like the spines of a lizard, while the pauldrons were reinforced with ridged plating that followed the curvature of the deltoids. The arms and legs were similarly protected with smaller scale plates strapped seamlessly along the limbs, giving the armor a continuous, organic flow from shoulder to fingertip, and hip to boot.

Around the waist, a belt of thicker, hexagonal plates cinched the armor close, supporting a layered skirt of flexible scale strips that hung to mid-thigh, allowing for unhindered leg motion. The greaves and boots extended the scaled design all the way to the toes, each piece molded for precise fit and silent movement.

The armor bore no shine, no sharp edges—just a sleek, natural contour that moved like skin, as if the armor was already part of his skin, and the armor didn’t restrain his movement at all.

Alot of students admired the armor and drew alot of attention .

Just then the instructor walked in " Time to move out".