The barracks was dim, only the faint glow of ceiling lights humming above rows of bunks. Recruits were already passed out, some snoring like engines, others twitching from exhaustion after the day's brutal Blink Step drills.
Woo Jin lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his body sore in places he didn't even know existed. Across from him, Raul shifted on his bunk, arms behind his head, grinning even though his shoulder was wrapped from crashing into the wall earlier.
He broke the silence.
"Hey... what's y'all's full names? Been sweating, puking, and nearly dying with you guys for weeks now, and I only know your first."
⸻
Raul's Turn
Woo Jin chuckled weakly. "You're the one who never shuts up, and you didn't even tell us yours?"
Raul smirked. "Alright, alright. Name's Raul Navarro. Straight from Novara, the farm planet. My old man says our family's been hauling crates since before we had hover-loaders. Guess that's why I got the shoulders."
He flexed his arm lazily, even lying down, and the other three rolled their eyes.
⸻
Min-seo's Turn
The bunk above Raul creaked as Min-seo leaned over, glasses catching the faint light.
"Han Min-seo. Kytheron Research World. My parents designed AIs for orbital defense systems. They wanted me to follow in their footsteps. Instead, here I am, calculating my chances of dying every day with you lunatics."
Raul laughed. "Yeah, and your math ain't making me feel better, professor."
⸻
John's Turn
From the far bunk, the quiet one finally spoke, his voice low and steady.
"John Draven. Dravos Mining World. We don't talk much about family out there. You work or you starve. You complain, you die. I figured the Marines would be easier than mining."
Woo Jin raised his brows. "Easier? This?"
John smirked faintly for the first time. "At least here, someone notices when you drop dead."
⸻
Woo Jin's Turn
The three looked over at him. Woo Jin blinked, sitting up slightly.
"Woo Jin. Just Woo Jin." He scratched the back of his neck. "Family's from Eryndor Prime — the capital. My grandfather fought in the Leviathan Front. My dad served in the Fourth Eldritch Incursion. Me? I don't know. Just trying not to embarrass the bloodline, I guess."
Raul grinned. "Hell nah, Jin. You got the spirit. That's more than half these recruits already."
Min-seo adjusted his glasses. "Statistically speaking, our squad has a higher chance of survival now that we've established identity cohesion."
John muttered, "You mean we know each other's names."
⸻
The four laughed quietly, trying not to wake the others. For the first time, the barracks didn't feel like a cage. It felt like a place where brothers were being forged — not just by war, but by trust.
Woo Jin lay back, closing his eyes. Whatever tomorrow brought, at least he knew who he'd be facing it with.
-
Two weeks later, the recruits looked like shadows of the boys who had first arrived. Their uniforms were soaked daily in sweat, bruises covered their arms and legs, and many bore bandages where Blink Step had slammed them into walls or floors. Even Raul — the endless ball of energy — was quieter now, his grin worn down by exhaustion.
But through that suffering, progress had been made. Recruits who could barely Blink a meter now could push themselves five or six. Woo Jin himself, after hundreds of failures, could manage short, clean Blinks with consistency. Not perfect, but enough to feel like progress.
Still, they were wrecked. And yet their rest was short-lived.
⸻
The Announcement
The recruits stood in formation inside the training hall, sweat dripping, hearts pounding. The head sergeant marched before them, crimson visor glowing brighter than ever.
"Two weeks. That's how long you've been breaking your bones against Blink Step. Some of you got better. Some of you still move like idiots. But you all survived. And survival is the only metric that matters."
He paused, his voice dropping into something heavier.
"Now, recruits, comes the second doctrine. Two more weeks of pain, confusion, and terror. You will not master it. Most of you will barely survive it. But if you do, you will take your first true step into the realm of UNE ghosts."
He raised his voice into a thunderous roar.
"SILENT SHADOW — TYPE ONE!"
⸻
The Setup
The wide gray training hall dimmed as the lights lowered. The floor's gridlines glowed faintly, casting long shadows across the recruits. Then holograms activated, showing soldiers running, rolling, firing rifles — yet the sound feed was cut.
Absolute silence.
No footsteps. No gunfire. No clatter of magazines or echo of impact. It looked wrong. It felt wrong.
The recruits shifted uneasily. Woo Jin's skin prickled — his instincts screamed at him that something was off.
The sergeant's voice thundered:
"Silent Shadow Type 1. The doctrine of erasure. You will learn to move, breathe, and strike without sound. Not muffled, not quiet. Removed. Reality will fail to register your noise. To your enemy, you are not a soldier. You are a phantom."
⸻
The First Demonstration
One of the instructors stepped forward. No armor, no weapons — just a standard UNE uniform. He sprinted across the hall, boots slamming against the floor — yet not a single sound was heard. He vaulted a barrier, rolled, slammed his fists into a steel plate. Silence.
Then, without warning, he clapped his hands — a loud crack echoed across the hall.
The sudden return of sound made the recruits flinch violently.
The sergeant growled:
"That is the fear you put into your enemies. Sound when they expect none. Silence when they expect noise. The uncertainty will break their morale before your bullets do."
⸻
The Recruits' Turn
The recruits were lined up, ordered to sprint their lanes under Silent Shadow activation. No exo-armor. No AI assistance. Just their raw selves.
"Begin!"
Woo Jin took off, his boots slamming against the floor. The sound echoed — too loud. He gritted his teeth, trying to remember the principle. Not footsteps. Not movement. Erasure.
He pushed harder. For a moment, the sound vanished. Just a flicker. His boots hit the floor, but the air didn't respond. His heart raced — he had it!
Then it snapped back. The echo of his steps returned louder than before, breaking the illusion.
Around him, Raul stumbled noisily, grunting with frustration. Min-seo cursed as his glasses nearly fell off mid-run. John moved steadily, and though imperfect, his silence held longer than most.
The hall filled with chaos — recruits running, tripping, shouting, their failed silences clashing with occasional eerie pockets where a single step truly vanished.
Woo Jin gasped, chest heaving. This was harder than Blink Step. Blink Step hurt the body. Silent Shadow hurt the mind.
⸻
The sergeant's roar cut through:
"FOOLS! You're still thinking like civilians! Silent Shadow isn't about hiding noise! It's about erasing your place in existence! You don't muffle sound — you convince reality you never made it!"
The recruits shivered. For the next two weeks, this would be their hell.
And in the corner of his eye, Woo Jin noticed Asura Khan — the silent prodigy. Running his lane. His footsteps? Already gone. Completely erased.
Even now, he was ahead of everyone.
-
The hall was chaos — footsteps pounding, recruits stumbling, shouts and grunts breaking what was supposed to be silence.
But then, down the center lane, one figure moved differently.
Asura Khan.
He sprinted forward with effortless strides. Not a single sound followed him. His boots hit the floor, but the air refused to echo. He vaulted a barrier, rolled across the ground, even slammed his shoulder into a steel panel — all without a whisper.
It wasn't clumsy silence. It wasn't shaky, temporary flickers like Woo Jin had felt. It was complete. As if Asura had been born this way. As if reality itself accepted his movements as part of the void.
The recruits stopped mid-run, their jaws dropping. Raul cursed under his breath, "Ain't no way... bro looks like he's been doing this for fifty damn years..."
Min-seo adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers. "This... this is mastery. On day one. Statistically impossible."
Even John, the quiet rock, whispered, "Unreal."
⸻
The Instructors' Shock
The instructors froze, visors flickering. For several seconds, even they were silent — stunned, disbelieving what they were seeing. Then the head sergeant snapped, voice cracking before rising into a roar:
"WHAT THE HELL, RECRUIT KHAN!? HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT LIKE YOU'VE BEEN TRAINING SINCE THE WOMB?! FIRST YOU PASSED THE BLINK STEP TRAINING WITH EASE FIRST TRY! THEN THIS TOO?!"
Asura simply stood tall at the end of the lane, calm, unreadable, his chest rising steadily. He didn't smirk. He didn't brag. He just waited.
The sergeant turned, stomping back down the line, pointing his finger at the other recruits.
"LOOK AT HIM! LOOK! THAT IS HOW IT'S DONE!"
His voice rose to a frenzy, rattling the walls:
"WHY AREN'T YOU ALL LIKE HIM?! WHY DO YOU SOUND LIKE A BUNCH OF COWS STOMPING THROUGH A METAL FARM?! YOU EMBARRASS ME! YOU EMBARRASS THE UNE! YOU EMBARRASS EXISTENCE ITSELF!"
He stopped in front of Raul, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"DO YOU THINK THE ENEMY WILL WAIT WHILE YOU STOMP AROUND LIKE A DRUNK ELEPHANT?! DO YOU THINK THEY'LL SAY, 'OH, GIVE HIM A MINUTE, HE'S LEARNING'? NO! THEY'LL SLICE YOU IN HALF AND MOVE ON!"
Raul winced. "Yes, sir!"
The sergeant spun toward Min-seo.
"AND YOU, PROFESSOR! PUT YOUR NUMBERS AWAY AND PUT YOUR DAMN FOOTSTEPS AWAY WHILE YOU'RE AT IT! IF ASURA CAN ERASE SOUND, WHY CAN'T YOU?!"
Min-seo muttered weakly, "St–statistically unfair, sir..."
The sergeant exploded.
"NO EXCUSES! I DON'T CARE IF HE'S A PRODIGY OR THE SON OF THE ALMIGHTY HIMSELF — YOU WILL MATCH HIM! YOU WILL BLEED UNTIL YOU CAN DO WHAT HE DOES WITHOUT THINKING! BECAUSE WE'RE ALL CHILDREN OF GOD? THAT MEANS WE ALL HAVE THE SAME POTENTIAL!"
The recruits groaned inwardly. It felt less like training now, and more like every parent's nightmare lecture — being compared to "the perfect child" while getting roasted alive.
Woo Jin clenched his fists, sweat dripping down his face. He didn't hate Asura. But damn... training beside him felt like standing in the shadow of a giant.
-
The recruits were still reeling from Asura's perfect demonstration when the head sergeant's roar cut through the silence:
"ENOUGH STARING! YOU THINK WAR ENDS BECAUSE ONE PRODIGY SHOWS OFF? HELL NO! BACK TO THE GRIND, RECRUITS!"
The instructors marched them out of the Silent Shadow hall and into the open training grounds. The suns of the star system burned high overhead, heat rippling across the valley.
⸻
The Endless Drills
First came the runs. Not a few kilometers — dozens. Boots slammed against dirt, sweat pouring down faces, lungs burning. Raul gasped like a dying engine but still yelled, "C'mon, Jin, keep up!"
Then push-ups. Hundreds. Sit-ups. Burpees. Squats. No breaks. Every muscle in Woo Jin's body screamed for mercy. His arms trembled so hard his face smacked the ground more than once.
The obstacle courses came next. Tall climbing walls, rope bridges, barbed-wire crawls through mud, swinging over water pits, dragging weighted dummies across fields. The kind of training that left cuts, bruises, and blood dripping down shins.
"MOVE, RECRUITS!" the sergeant roared, pacing alongside them. "YOUR ENEMY WON'T GIVE YOU A WATER BREAK! YOUR ENEMY WON'T LET YOU CATCH YOUR BREATH!"
Woo Jin clawed his way over the final wall, chest heaving, hands bleeding. Raul collapsed in the mud beside him, laughing between gasps. Min-seo gagged, muttering equations about dehydration. John dragged two recruits behind him like it was nothing, silent as always.
⸻
The Range Again
Just when they thought it was over, the sergeant barked:
"TO THE RANGE!"
The recruits groaned but obeyed, stumbling to the long gun range under the scorching light. Rows of sleek UNE rifles and sidearms waited on the racks.
The sergeant bellowed:
"MARINE WITHOUT A RIFLE IS A DEAD MAN! MOVE!"
Targets sprang up — humanoid dummies, moving drones, pop-ups at random distances.
Woo Jin grabbed his rifle, hands trembling from fatigue. His first burst went wide, the recoil slamming his sore shoulder. He cursed under his breath, adjusted, fired again. This time, center mass.
Around him, Raul roared every time he hit a target. Min-seo squinted down the sights, muttering calculations. John stayed quiet, calm, every shot clean and precise.
Then came Asura Khan.
The prodigy barely raised his weapon before the first targets dropped. Each shot was controlled, deliberate, terrifyingly efficient. His bullets cut through the range like the gun itself bowed to him.
The instructors shouted over the gunfire:
"LOOK AT HIM! THAT IS A MARINE! MATCH HIM OR DIE LIKE FOOLS!"
The recruits fired harder, desperate to prove themselves. The range roared with endless thunder.
⸻
By the time the sun dipped low, the recruits were broken shells, collapsing onto the dirt. Sweat, mud, and gunpowder clung to their uniforms.
Woo Jin's body ached more than it ever had. But as he lay there staring at the crimson dusk, chest heaving, he realized something.
He hadn't quit. Not once.
And tomorrow, they would do it all over again.
-
The next morning, the recruits shuffled into the wide barracks classroom. The usual scuffed floors and dull gray walls had been replaced with something new: racks upon racks of towering UNE armor frames standing along the walls.
For the first time in weeks, the recruits didn't look exhausted — they looked wide-eyed, like kids staring at forbidden treasure.
Each frame gleamed in shades of dark gray, accented with cobalt-blue lines running like veins across the plating. The helmets sat on tables, expressionless, with glowing visors that seemed to stare right back at the recruits.
The drill sergeant's voice boomed across the room:
"ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MAGOTS! TODAY YOU WILL LEARN AND HOW TO PROPERLY USE A STIM SHOT HEALER!"
The instructor steps up who is a UNE Medic, and showed them a white and grayish syringe shot.
The inspector then told them "This is a Stim shot healer, it can heal wounds from any injury from basic to life threatening injuries. It can even regenerate limbs too. Use this wisely in battle, as each will carry 12 in your pouches during missions or a chaotic battlefield. No side effects at all, heals instantly. Thank you"
Some recruits were amazed by this, some were already impressed due to this Stim shot healer was used in hospitals even for locals too.
Now the drill sergeant steps up and yelled:
"ALRIGHT NOW THATS DONE! LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS! YOU'VE SPENT A MONTH LEARNING TO MOVE LIKE SHADOWS. NOW YOU LEARN TO WEAR THE SKIN OF THE UNE. THIS ARMOR IS YOUR BLOOD, YOUR BONE, YOUR DAMN SOUL IN BATTLE!"
He stomped over to the nearest armor rack and slammed a fist against its chest plate. The armor is grayish and dark grayish color — the helmet Visor is glowing blue.
"THIS IS NOT A TOY! THIS IS NOT A STATUS SYMBOL! THIS IS A DAMN LIFE-SUPPORT MACHINE DESIGNED TO TURN YOUR FRAGILE BODIES INTO LIVING WEAPONS. IT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE IF YOU RESPECT IT — OR KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T!"
⸻
Basic Functions
The instructors broke down the armor into its core systems:
• Exo-Frame Assist: micro-hydraulics and synthetic muscle fibers that multiply strength threefold.
• Kinetic Dampeners: shock-absorbing layers to reduce bullet impact and concussive force.
• AI Link System: a neural interface syncing the armor to the soldier's body and reflexes.
• Life Support: filtration for toxic air, temperature control in space, and emergency blood stabilizers.
One instructor demonstrated, stepping into a frame and letting the auto-seal plates snap shut around him. The recruits jumped at the sharp hiss of hydraulics as the armor came alive, lights running across the chest and visor.
"BASIC mode is passive support. COMPLEX mode requires neural sync. You won't touch that until you can walk in this thing without looking like clowns tripping over their own feet."
⸻
The Warnings
Before the recruits could get too excited, the sergeant barked again:
"NO EGO WARFARE APPLIES HERE TOO! SOME OF YOU IDIOTS WILL THINK YOU'RE INVINCIBLE JUST BECAUSE YOU GOT A METAL SKIN. WRONG. THE ARMOR IS ONLY AS GOOD AS THE MAN INSIDE. DISRESPECT IT, AND IT'LL LOCK UP MID-FIGHT, COOK YOU ALIVE, OR WORSE — TURN YOU INTO A WALKING CORPSE IN SPACE!"
The recruits went silent. The awe turned into a nervous edge.
⸻
Hands-On Training
Finally, the instructors ordered them to line up.
One by one, recruits stepped forward to their assigned frames. Raul was first, grinning ear to ear. "Ohhh, mama. I'm gonna look like a superhero." He slipped in, and the armor clamped shut. The frame immediately jerked him forward, slamming him into the wall.
The barracks erupted in laughter until the sergeant screamed:
"QUIET! THAT RIGHT THERE IS HOW RECKLESS ROOKIES DIE!"
Woo Jin's hands trembled as he slid into his own armor. The moment the plates sealed, it was like being swallowed by another body. The weight crushed down on him for a second — then lifted as the exo-muscles engaged. His breath echoed inside the helmet.
Min-seo muttered equations nervously as his armor sealed. John stayed calm, silent, every motion measured.
And then came Asura Khan.
He didn't even hesitate. The armor sealed around him like it had been waiting for him. He walked forward with perfect posture, no stumble, no misstep — as if he'd been born wearing it.
Even the instructors' eyes widened.
-
recruits were still staring when the instructor clanged a knuckle against the chest plate.
"Now pay attention — this isn't just metal. The UNE armor is forged from a composite of hyper-dense alloys mixed with cosmic-energy-enhanced nanotech. That's why you don't see scratches on these suits, even though some of 'em have been through wars older than you kids."
He paced along the line of suits.
"The nano-weave inside adapts to you. If you're injured — broken bones, bleeding out, hell, even internal organ damage — the armor will slowly mend you while keeping you in the fight. It won't make you immortal, but it'll damn well keep you alive long enough to finish the mission."
A murmur spread through the recruits. Raul whispered, "So... it's like wearing a walking hospital bed?"
The sergeant glared.
"WRONG! It's like wearing a blade with a mind of its own. It keeps you alive, but only if you earn it. Think of it as almost... sentient. The armor learns you. The harder you push yourself, the more it grows with you. Its limits are infinite — because your limits are infinite."
⸻
Capabilities
Another instructor tapped on his visor and activated his demo armor. He blurred forward in a streak, vanishing and reappearing ten meters away in less than a heartbeat.
The recruits gasped.
"The exo-frame augments your movement to levels faster than the eye can track. You'll learn to wall-run, blitz through enemy fire, even strike before the target realizes they've been hit. But only if you have the discipline."
He ran straight at the wall, then sprinted up it, feet clanging, before flipping backward and landing perfectly in front of the stunned recruits.
"THIS is why we say the armor isn't just protection — it's an extension of your will. If you train with it, if you sharpen yourself, it will sharpen with you. You slack off, it'll stay weak. But if you bleed, sweat, and grow stronger, this suit will evolve with you."
⸻
For the first time since boot camp began, the recruits weren't just exhausted or afraid — they were in awe.
Even Woo Jin, usually trembling, whispered under his breath, "It's alive..."
John clenched his fists, focused. Min-seo's mind was already racing with calculations. Raul's jaw hung open in pure excitement.
And Asura Khan... Asura stood silent, eyes locked on his armor, as if he already understood.
-
The instructors dimmed the barracks lights. A new row of equipment was rolled forward on hovering racks — the UNE helmets. Sleek, sharp, their visors glowed faintly, as though they were watching the recruits before being worn.
The sergeant's voice boomed, slower this time, more reverent:
"If the armor is your second skin, then this—" he lifted one helmet into the air, its faint hum vibrating through the room, "—is your second mind."
⸻
The AI Support
He set the helmet down on the table, pacing.
"Each helmet houses an AI support unit designed to enhance your instincts. Once it syncs with you, it will accelerate your reaction speed until it matches the armor's amplified movement. You see an enemy raise their gun? You'll already be moving before they even pull the trigger."
The recruits stiffened, eyes widening. Woo Jin's breath caught — that was faster than humanly possible.
The sergeant jabbed a finger at them.
"Understand this — the helmet doesn't just help. It grows with you. It's almost sentient, learning your habits, your weaknesses, your strengths. The longer you fight, the more it sharpens. You train hard, it trains harder. You slack off, it becomes sluggish. Together, you evolve."
⸻
Perception Beyond Flesh
Another instructor stepped forward, activating his helmet. The visor flickered, streams of alien code and tactical overlays rippling across the glass.
"This AI doesn't just feed you combat data. It gathers intel, scans threats, and evaluates enemies in a Planck second. That's the smallest unit of time existence knows. To you, it's instant. Faster than thought."
He turned his head toward a holographic target.
"It can detect the strength of an enemy, their weaknesses, their energy signatures. It can map an entire battlefield before you even blink. It can track the angle of a bullet before it leaves the chamber."
The hologram shifted, spawning monstrous shapes, distortions of higher-dimensional threats. The helmet AI marked them instantly, outlining them with red grids, tagging vulnerabilities Woo Jin's naked eyes couldn't even comprehend.
"Most importantly — this helmet sees what you cannot. Conceptual attacks, higher realities, invisible dimensions. If something from beyond this plane comes for you — this will see it."
⸻
The Weight of Power
The recruits were silent. Even Raul's usual grin had vanished. Min-seo's jaw hung open, muttering equations in disbelief. John's eyes narrowed, taking it in with deadly seriousness.
Woo Jin swallowed hard, staring at the helmet in front of him. It wasn't just gear. It wasn't even just AI. It was something... alive.
Asura Khan, of course, simply reached for his assigned helmet and slid it onto his head without hesitation. The visor sealed with a sharp hiss, glowing brighter. For a moment, Woo Jin swore the air itself bent around him.
The sergeant's voice cut through the awe.
"With armor and helmet, you are no longer human. You are UNE Marines — soldiers who bend reality, soldiers who terrify the void. This is your steel soul. Respect it, and it will make you unstoppable. Disrespect it, and it will eat you alive."
-
The recruits were still wide-eyed, staring at the helmets glowing faintly on the racks. Some looked excited, some nervous, some — like Raul — just plain cocky. The sergeant saw it in their faces, and his voice dropped into a growl.
"Don't you dare start thinking this armor makes you gods. Don't you dare."
He stalked across the line, visor glaring.
"The suit will boost you to its limit. That's it. You get its maximum baseline strength, speed, and reflexes on day one. But beyond that? You want more? You train. You bleed. You fight. The harder you push, the more it grows with you — and only then do you get stronger."
He slammed a gauntlet against one of the helmets, the sharp crack echoing.
"Same goes for the helmet. It'll boost your reactions, but only as much as your body and mind can handle. You train with it, it'll sharpen further. You ignore it, it'll stay dull. This armor is alive — but it only respects effort."
⸻
The Reality Check
The sergeant raised his voice, words hitting like artillery fire:
"And don't get cocky, because the truth is this — your death rate is still high. The enemy out there? They're firing weapons at FTL-plus speeds. Faster than light, faster than your nerves, faster than even your armor can save you."
The recruits stiffened, their awe cooling into dread.
"Not even UNE veterans can react to that. Not even close. You hear me?! Only the Elites — those freaks who've trained their bodies and armor beyond the limits of sanity — can dance with fire at that level. That's not you. That's not even most of your instructors. That's another story. Another war."
The silence in the barracks grew heavy. Woo Jin felt a chill crawl down his spine. Raul stopped smiling. Min-seo lowered his gaze. John clenched his fists.
The sergeant's visor glared like a burning star.
"So remember this: No Ego Warfare. You think this armor makes you invincible? Wrong. You panic, you die. You brag, you die. You fight sloppy, you die. The armor won't save you. The helmet won't save you. Only discipline, awareness, and respect for the battlefield will."
He let the silence linger, then roared one final command:
"Treat the battlefield as a soldier — or it will bury you as a fool!"
⸻
The recruits shouted back, voices hoarse but united:
"YES, SIR!"
Woo Jin's throat burned as he echoed the words. The awe he'd felt a moment ago now mixed with fear. But beneath it all, a spark of determination flickered. If the battlefield was death itself, then he'd learn to walk through it alive.
-
The helmets hummed faintly on their racks, and the recruits still stood stiff, processing the warning about "No Ego Warfare." Then, the head sergeant took a slow breath and stepped forward, his voice lowering.
For once, he didn't shout. He spoke with a heavy reverence, the kind that carried the weight of centuries.
"You fresh meats keep thinking of the UNE as just an empire. A flag. A military. But you don't know what you've sworn yourselves into. So listen close."
He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly down the rows.
"The United Nations of Earth was born from fire. From the ashes of World at War Four — from 2110 to 2131. The last global war humanity ever fought on Earth itself. That was approximately... 254,660 years ago. Today's calendar? The year 256,791 A.D., Common Era, and 256,971 years ever since the very dawn of the first human civilization ever!."
The recruits went still. Even the constant hum of the barracks seemed to fade.
⸻
A Civilization Beyond Imagination
The sergeant's voice deepened, carrying the weight of history.
"Since the dawn of humanity's existence, we have risen. From one planet, to trillions of star systems. From billions, to over 155 sextillion citizens of the UNE. Not counting the other human factions that broke away into the cosmos."
Murmurs rippled through the recruits. Raul whispered, "Sextillion? That's... that's not even a number, man, that's—"
Min-seo muttered rapidly, "155 sextillion... that's more than the number of stars in the observable universe multiplied dozens of times—"
John silenced him with a glare.
The sergeant raised his voice again, louder, prouder:
"Our military numbers over 3.10 sextillion personnel. The largest fighting force in human history. Could've been 3.11 sextillion, but some of our other military forces of the UNE got them like the damn CGS forces siphon off our best and brightest — the elites. Still, UNE Marines stand as the spine of it all."
⸻
Kardashev Power
He turned, visor glinting crimson.
"We are not a planetary force. Not even a galactic one. We are a Type 3.5 civilization on the Kardashev Scale. We harness not just the energy of galaxies, but layers beyond. The blood of humanity flows across the stars themselves."
The room was silent. The recruits didn't even breathe. For the first time, they weren't thinking about their sweat, their bruises, their exhaustion. They were thinking about what they represented.
Woo Jin's chest tightened. He felt both smaller than ever, and larger than he'd ever imagined. Just one recruit, one grain of sand in an ocean stretching across the cosmos. But he was part of that ocean now.
The sergeant's voice thundered one last time:
"You are UNE recruits. Your ancestors fought with sticks, stones, and rifles. You fight with the fire of galaxies at your back. Never forget the weight you carry — or the legacy you serve."
The recruits straightened, awe burning in their eyes. Even Raul was speechless.
For the first time, they weren't just scared of their sergeant. They were in awe of the civilization they'd sworn to protect.
-
The recruits stood silent, still stunned by the scale of the UNE's reach. The head sergeant stopped pacing, his boots clicking against the polished floor as his voice thundered once more.
"You think controlling trillions of star systems means peace? FOOLS! Sixty-five percent of them are at war! And do you know why? BECAUSE WE FIND OUT THE HARD WAY! BY BEING FOOLS OURSELVES THAT THE COSMOS ISN'T ALL FRIENDLY!! Back during our type 2 era stage, we first contacted aliens! And at first we were happy and hoping to make good relations... but WRONG! WE WERE ATTACKED! WE LEARN THAT THE COSMOS IS THE DARK FOREST! Either stay in silent and hide, be caught and kill your enemies before they strike you first! But we follow Christ, we do not attack no one first even if it's hostile... we keep our morality and try to make the enemy surrender. We do not leave no one behind! Even hostile aliens! If they surrender then do not kill. Many Aliens themselves has morality too, yes even their own families..."
He jabbed a finger into the air, his words like lightning.
"We fight alien civilizations that tear reality apart with their very existence. We battle extra-dimensional species that bleed into our universe like infections. We clash against cosmic horrors beyond comprehension — things that see your mind as food, your soul as playthings!"
The recruits shifted uncomfortably. Sweat ran cold down their spines.
"We fight the eldritch, the unnameable, the infinities that exist beyond conceptual frameworks themselves. And yes—" his visor glowed crimson, pausing for effect, "—we even fight our own kind. Other human factions. Rebels. Splinters who turned their backs on the UNE."
⸻
The Turn to Faith
The sergeant's voice slowed. He wasn't screaming now. He was speaking with power, with fire, but with a deep conviction that made every word echo.
"We are UNE Soldiers... we fought monsters beyond comprehension" "We've fought the infinites beyond conceptual frameworks."
He paused, letting the weight of that settle. Then his tone shifted — calmer, but stronger. Almost... reverent.
"And yet — do you know why we still stand? Do you know why humanity has not been erased, consumed, or damned?"
No one dared breathe. The recruits stood frozen, waiting.
The sergeant's voice rose, steady and unshakable:
"By faith in the Holy Spirit, we found our strength."
"By the will of Christ, we fought."
"By trust in our Heavenly Father, we survived the impossible."
The words didn't feel like a sermon. They felt like a war cry carved into the marrow of humanity for millennia.
The recruits felt it. Awe. Fear. Pride. Woo Jin's chest swelled, his throat tight. Raul's cocky grin was gone, replaced with solemn fire. Min-seo bowed his head in thought. John closed his eyes, as if those words struck something deep within him.
And Asura Khan... stood silent as ever, but his gaze burned like steel.
⸻
The sergeant's visor swept across them, voice shaking the air one last time:
"You are not just recruits. You are soldiers of the UNE. And when the void itself howls against you, when the infinities claw at your soul — remember who stands with you. The Spirit. The Son. The Father. That is how we survive the impossible. That is how we win."
The recruits answered, not by order — but from something deeper.
"YES, SIR!"
Their voices thundered through the barracks, not just as soldiers, but as believers in something greater than themselves.
-
The recruits stood locked in silence, the sergeant pacing slowly across the barracks. His voice carried now not with rage, but with a steady weight, the tone of a man teaching them the scope of what they'd inherited.
"Every battle, every war, every nightmare we've survived since our first encounter with alien life during our Type II era has taught us something. Every clash left scars... and wisdom."
He stopped, his visor glowing faintly.
"We learned tactics — not just physical, not just technical. Supernatural. The art of moving against things that defy physics, against enemies that exist beyond logic. We catalogued it all."
The recruits exchanged looks. Min-seo's glasses nearly slipped off his nose. Raul mouthed, "Supernatural?!"
The sergeant spread his arms wide.
"Today, humanity's war codex holds over 100 million distinct tactics — from the most basic battlefield maneuvers to those designed to counter cosmic horrors and entities that bleed in from other realities. For over 240,000 which is 244,660 years since the Type II era, UNE soldiers have fought, died, learned, and adapted. Billions of battles. Trillions of encounters. Each one added to the Codex."
⸻
The AI Helmet's Role
He stepped to one of the helmets glowing faintly on the rack, resting his gauntlet on it as though it were sacred.
"And this—your AI helmet—holds that knowledge. When you wear it, it does not just see for you, or think for you. It carries the weight of humanity's wars. It can assess a battlefield in a Planck second, then give you options. It can tell you which tactics to use against an enemy... or whether the only option is to run."
He turned sharply, visor gleaming at the recruits.
"But don't mistake it. The helmet will not fight for you. It will not save you if you hesitate. You must first learn these tactics. Drill them. Understand them. Earn them. The helmet only helps you choose — the strength to execute must still come from you."
⸻
The Weight of 244,660 Years
The room felt colder. Woo Jin swallowed hard. 100 million tactics? That number was beyond comprehension. He had trouble keeping up with two weeks of Blink Step drills — and now he was being told the UNE had catalogued supernatural frameworks of war itself.
Raul whispered, "Dude... we're like... ants carrying the weight of mountains."
Min-seo muttered, "No... ants don't learn 100 million tactical options..."
John simply clenched his fists, nodding slowly.
Asura Khan? Silent. Calm. Eyes locked on the helmets, like he already understood what they carried.
⸻
The sergeant's final words landed heavy:
"You are recruits. Right now, you know nothing. But if you survive, if you fight, if you learn... you will hold the Codex of Humanity in your hands. And with it, you will decide whether mankind stands or falls."
The silence that followed wasn't fear. It was reverence. For the first time, Woo Jin felt the full, crushing weight of being a UNE Marine.
"Remember... no matter how advanced we were, there are still alien species out there that are far more advanced than we are! Far beyond even our comprehension! Enemies beyond grasp itself! — in this universe... in this cosmos...! It is infinite! Endless! The cosmos itself is more complex than you think"
——————
To be continued...