Kaede Satori was, by every measure, an ordinary person.
No strange obsessions, no eccentric philosophies, and certainly no exotic romantic preferences. Her new body happened to be female, not because of some cosmic irony, but—Kaede suspected—because the entity responsible for her reincarnation simply thought it would be amusing.
And as the saying goes: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
She adapted quickly. She had no way to change her circumstances, so she might as well work with them.
The demographic balance on Azuran Prime leaned heavily female. Males were still respected, but their social weight was… fractionally lighter. Was this some utopian dream for interstellar feminists? Possibly. But Kaede didn't dwell on it.
All she saw was this:
"I'm alive again."
"This world looks familiar enough to navigate."
"The tech level here is absurdly high."
"They have an army."
"I can still serve."
Simple priorities.
She wasn't a ruthless prodigy like some war hero in a serialized holo-drama, nor a lovable disaster from a tank-themed academy comedy. She was just Kaede Satori, an ex-special operations sniper who could follow orders and hit her mark.
For her, that was enough.
---
### Why Nobody Wants to Be a Soldier
Azuran Prime's government never stopped praising its armed forces. Recruitment holos were polished and glamorous. Military service was framed as both an honor and a cultural duty.
And yet… hardly anyone enlisted.
The reason was simple: laziness.
The planetary defense grid was run by autonomous war platforms, and most citizens were content to let machines do the fighting.
Why train and risk discomfort when you could live comfortably off state welfare, streaming Sphere matches from your couch, and never lifting more than a stylus?
As a result, the entire active-duty force barely scraped 100,000 personnel.
Statistically, out of two thousand eligible young women, only one volunteered. Which was why, when Kaede submitted her enlistment form, the staff at her district's youth center reacted like she'd just donated both kidneys and a lung.
The head caretaker—a cheerful, meddling woman with a suspiciously extensive romance holo collection—hugged Kaede's leg, tears in her eyes. "You're our miracle child!"
Kaede didn't understand. But that night, the caretaker pressed a box set of vintage "two-hero romance" novels into her hands. Which was when Kaede learned that Azurans enjoyed such things too.
---
### Departure
When she turned sixteen—the youngest age legally allowed for enlistment—Kaede left Erythra District for basic training.
Girls under sixteen weren't accepted due to physical development. Women over thirty-four were barred because their neural patterns resisted full immersion in the Combat Sphere. Which meant the entire fighting force was composed of underage by Azuran legal standards.
In Azuran law, adulthood began at thirty-six. Given their three-century lifespan, it made sense… but it still meant the entire military was technically made up of elite, high-privilege "juveniles."
Those privileges were obvious the moment Kaede boarded the high-atmo maglev for the capital. She was immediately directed to the VIP carriage—usually reserved for high-ranking scientists and celebrated artists.
Inside, two researchers in pristine white coats glanced up at the insignia on her collar. Both gave her respectful nods. Kaede returned a polite, practiced smile and took her seat.
The chair adjusted itself to her shape with uncanny precision, scanning posture, weight, and muscle distribution until it felt like she was sitting on memory foam designed by gods.
---
### A View from the Sky
The VIP carriage had one special feature—Panoramic Travel Mode. At the touch of a control, the walls around her faded to invisibility, revealing an uninterrupted view of Azuran Prime below.
Forests stretched endlessly between lakes and rivers. Mountain chains glittered with snowcaps. Migratory skybeasts wheeled far beneath them before vanishing as the train accelerated past at hypersonic speeds.
A discreet overlay appeared in the corner of her vision, naming each creature and offering full biological data.
When a bionic steward asked what she'd like to drink, Kaede ordered solenne, a bitter, caffeine-like brew unique to Azura. It arrived in the hands of a waist-high cylindrical bot with glowing "eyes" that blinked at her.
> "Please rate this service highly. Thank you," it chirped.
Kaede allowed herself a small smile.
---
The journey lasted just over half an hour. In that time, she'd crossed two continents. The speed of Azuran transport made her old world's aviation industry look like hobbyist glider clubs.
Upon disembarking, a private navigation marker appeared in her retinal display, leading her through the terminal. A small aerial drone zipped toward her, scanning her face before speaking in a soft mechanical tone:
> "New recruit. This way, please."
It guided her to the reception area, where two humanoid service units in Dummy Soldier ceremonial uniforms bowed deeply. These weren't decorative—they were combat-grade machines, but still classified as tools, no different from weapons or vehicles.
After confirming her identity, one escorted her to the recruit shuttle—a sleek craft that lifted vertically into the sky and accelerated toward her destination.