The recruits stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the simulation hangar.
The chamber stretched miles wide, the ceiling lost in shadows. At first, it looked empty — until the walls shimmered, bending with holographic light. Suddenly, a battlefield unfolded: ruined cities, scorched trenches, smoke rising in plumes, distant towers glowing with red signals. The instructors' voices boomed over the comms:
"This is your mid-cycle exam. The rules are simple: infiltrate the enemy base, climb to the top, and press the red button. Pick 6 in a team or less doesn't matter. You have fifty minutes. Fail, and you repeat until you succeed. Welcome to war, recruits."
⸻
The First Run
"GO!"
Woo Jin squad aka the Rust Wolves squad is what they call themselves... they sprinted into the simulation. Immediately, the battlefield came alive — AI droids surged forward, sleek metallic bodies firing tracer light rounds at FTL+ reaction speeds. The recruits scattered for cover, panic setting in.
Raul dove behind a barricade, screaming: "They're everywhere!"
Min-seo fumbled with his HUD, trying to coordinate but stammering as droids closed in.
Jerome was steady with his rifle, but his shots glanced off shields, too weak to hold the line.
Woo Jin's chest hammered as he blink-stepped clumsily to avoid fire — only to crash into rubble, HUD flashing red.
Within minutes, the squad were shredded. Explosions thundered. Screams echoed. The droids pushed them back mercilessly.
"FAIL. Time expired. Simulation reset."
The battlefield flickered, returning to silence. The squad gasped for air, drenched in sweat though not a single real bullet had touched them. The simulation hurt the pride more than the body.
⸻
Asura's Turn
Then came Asura Khan.
The sergeant called out, visor narrowing. "You. Go alone."
Asura stepped forward without a word. The recruits whispered, some scoffing, others curious.
The battlefield shimmered alive again — towers glowing, droids waiting. The timer blinked:
50:00 START
And then Asura moved.
He didn't rush blindly. He flowed — blink-stepping in bursts, Silent Shadow cloaking his sound. Tracer shock fire tore through where he had been, never where he was. His rifle barked with perfect precision, droids collapsing before they could even register him.
At one point, a squad of ten droids flanked him — and Asura sprinted straight at the wall, armor servos screaming, before running vertically across its surface, raining shots down like a phantom. He landed in silence, already moving toward the base.
The recruits watched from the observation deck, stunned silent.
• Raul's jaw dropped. "He's... he's playing the damn sim like it's a game."
• Min-seo muttered calculations, trembling. "No lag. No hesitation. His sync rate... it's perfect."
• Woo Jin stared, breath caught in his throat. "...seven minutes? There's no way."
Asura reached the enemy base. Droids poured down the steps, a metallic tide. He blink-stepped through them, every movement controlled, efficient, merciless. The armor didn't just move with him — it obeyed him.
At 7:01, he scaled the final tower, planted his hand on the red button.
"OBJECTIVE COMPLETE. Time: Seven minutes. Simulation terminated."
⸻
Aftermath
Silence filled the hangar.
The recruits stood slack-jawed, some in awe, others in bitterness. Even the instructors exchanged uneasy glances, their visors flickering as they replayed the telemetry. Completely utterly shocked, this was a whole new record of this star system's history.
The drill sergeant broke the silence and then shock... then with a roar:
"THAT is the standard you should aspire to! That is UNE discipline and instinct in motion! The rest of you? PATHETIC. You fail because you panic. You fail because you hesitate. You fail because you forget—THIS IS WAR, NOT A GAME!"
Deep inside, Drill sergeant was completely shocked... this was a whole new record of time to finish that quick in this star system history.
Recruits lowered their heads, frustration and exhaustion heavy in their chests.
Asura stood at the far end, visor dimmed, silent as ever. No celebration. No boasting. Just calm.
Woo Jin clenched his fists, sweat dripping. He whispered to himself: "Next time... I won't fail. I can't."
-
The simulation battlefield was still alive — droids firing, explosions echoing, recruits scattering in failure — when suddenly the walls themselves trembled. The red towers of the sim flickered, vanishing into static. The timer froze mid-count.
Then the alarm hit.
A deep, bone-shaking siren wailed through the dome. Lights across the ceiling strobed amber. The instructors stiffened, comms buzzing in their helmets.
"—ALL PERSONNEL, CODE AMBER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ERYNDOR PRIME UNDER DIRECT ASSAULT. CAPITAL CITIES BREACHED. UNKNOWN HOSTILE FORCE. ALL UNITS REPORT TO DEFENSE STATIONS IMMEDIATELY—"
The recruits froze. For a moment, no one moved. The words felt unreal.
Raul's voice cracked: "...wait... capital? Our capital?!"
Min-seo dropped his rifle, panic in his eyes. "That's impossible—the orbital defenses—"
Jerome muttered, "We're not ready for this... we're not even soldiers yet."
Woo Jin felt his chest tighten, fear flooding in like ice water.
The simulation dome dissolved, leaving only the recruits in their training armor. The silence was deafening, broken only by the wail of the amber siren and the sound of dozens of heartbeats pounding too loud.
⸻
Chaos in the Ranks
Instructors barked orders, voices sharper than ever.
"FORM UP! SHUT YOUR MOUTHS AND LISTEN! THIS IS WAR NOW! NOT TRAINING—WAR!"
Recruits stumbled into formation, but discipline cracked under fear. Some trembled, some cried, some whispered about their families on Eryndor Prime.
Woo Jin's hands shook around his rifle. His mind replayed every drill, every failure. We're not ready. We can't be ready. His breath came fast and shallow.
Then he looked to the side — and saw Asura Khan.
The tall recruit stood perfectly still. No trembling. No panic. His visor glowed faintly, calm and cold, scanning the chaos around him. To him, this wasn't terror — it was inevitability.
⸻
The Drill Sergeant's Fury
The drill sergeant tore off his helmet, eyes blazing as he shouted over the chaos.
"LISTEN TO ME, YOU WORTHLESS ROOKIES! THIS IS YOUR FIRST TASTE OF WAR. IF YOU RUN, YOU'RE DEAD. IF YOU FREEZE, YOU'RE DEAD. IF YOU LOSE CONTROL, YOU WILL GET YOUR SQUADS KILLED. PANIC IS THE ENEMY. DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
The recruits shouted back weakly at first.
"YES, SIR!"
"LOUDER!"
"YES, SIR!"
The sergeant's voice dropped into a growl.
"Good. Because the enemy doesn't care that you're only three months in. They don't care you haven't finished training. War doesn't wait. The only thing that matters now is this: you fight, or you die."
⸻
The First Chaos Drill
The recruits were herded out of the dome, through steel corridors now bathed in amber light. Defense platforms rumbled overhead as the station shifted into war footing. Distant explosions vibrated through the floors — the battle already bleeding into orbit.
Woo Jin stumbled as he ran, fear clawing at his chest. He glanced again at Asura, who ran with silent precision, like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.
For Woo Jin, Raul, Min-seo, Jerome, John — this was no longer training.
This was chaos.
This was war.
Their first.
-
The sirens howled through Camp Genesis as recruits scrambled into formation. Armor half-locked, rifles rattling in trembling hands. Instructors shoved them forward like cattle to slaughter, barking orders none of them truly heard.
Woo Jin's stomach dropped. His ears rang with the alert message repeating over and over:
"ERYNDOR PRIME – CAPITAL CITIES UNDER ATTACK."
His breath caught in his throat. My family... they're there. They're in the city.
Beside him, Jerome froze mid-step, eyes wide, face pale under his visor. "Jin... my folks are on Eryndor Prime too. My brothers. My mom and dad..."
For a split second, they weren't recruits anymore. They weren't UNE. They were just sons terrified for their families. Panic clawed up their spines, heavier than the armor.
⸻
The Airship Load-Up
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" Instructors shoved them up the ramp of the waiting UNE troop-carrier, a massive VTOL airship like a flying fortress. The engines thundered, the deck vibrating under their boots.
Inside, the recruits packed tight shoulder-to-shoulder. Rows of benches rattled as the airship lifted. The stench of sweat and fear filled the cabin instantly.
Woo Jin sat, helmet clamped in his hands, trying not to vomit. Jerome gripped his rifle so hard his knuckles turned white. Around them, chaos erupted.
• One recruit ripped off his helmet and puked onto the floor, bile splattering across boots.
• Another shook violently, whispering prayers through tears.
• Someone further down wet himself — the smell hit fast, unmissable.
• Two recruits clung to each other, muttering "we're gonna die, we're gonna die..."
Most of them were barely men. Eighteen, nineteen. Some had lied about their age just to enlist. Now, reality crashed down on them like fire.
⸻
Woo Jin's Fear
Woo Jin's chest heaved, breath uneven. He tried to think of the drills, of tactics, of the AI helmet's calm voice... but all he saw was his mother's face. His father's calloused hands. The streets of Haneul City burning.
His legs trembled. His hands slick with sweat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip the helmet off and run.
But then his eyes caught movement — across the shaking cabin.
Asura Khan.
The tall recruit sat in silence, perfectly calm, armor locked, rifle resting steady across his knees. His visor glowed faintly, unreadable. No panic. No hesitation. Just focus. Like the chaos around him didn't exist.
Even Raul, who never shut up, sat stunned into silence by the contrast.
⸻
The Countdown
The sergeant's voice blared over the comms as the airship roared toward the battlefield:
"LISTEN UP, MARINES-IN-TRAINING. YOU'RE ABOUT TO STEP INTO HELL. ERYNDOR PRIME IS FIVE MINUTES OUT. YOU WILL DEPLOY IMMEDIATELY UPON LANDING. HOLD THE LINES UNTIL RELIEF ARRIVES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS NOT TRAINING. THIS IS WAR. NOW STRAP IN AND PRAY TO WHATEVER GOD YOU GOT!"
The airship shook violently as it broke through atmosphere. Recruits clutched their helmets, knuckles white, hearts racing.
Five minutes felt like eternity.
Five minutes until war.
-
The VTOL shuddered in the sky, engines howling like a beast straining against the weight of fear inside its belly. Recruits sat locked in, visors glowing faintly, breaths fogging their helmets.
The captain walked down the center aisle, boots thudding heavy against the deck. His voice carried over the deafening hum of the engines:
"Listen up, recruits. Stay calm. Breathe steady. Follow orders. You'll be alright. The UNE doesn't throw you in to die — you're part of a machine bigger than yourself. Stay in formation, and you will make it through this."
For a moment, his words felt like a lifeline. A shaky silence fell. Even Woo Jin and Jerome clung to them, as if the captain's confidence was enough to shield them from the storm waiting below.
Then the radio crackled alive.
At first, static. Then— hell.
Gunfire thundered through the speakers. Explosions rattled the transmission. Screams tore through the channel.
"This is 7th Division—we need backup—THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!!! WE CAN'T HOLD THE LINE—"
Boom! A deafening blast cut the voice off mid-sentence. The comm filled with chaotic yelling, overlapping voices of men dying, commanders barking, the sound of metal tearing apart.
"HURRY—AGHHHHHHH—" Static.
The cabin went ice cold.
⸻
Panic in the Airship
One recruit ripped off his helmet and vomited on the deck, shaking uncontrollably. Another screamed, clawing at his chestplate like it was choking him. Several recruits broke into sobs, banging their armored fists against the bulkheads.
Woo Jin's stomach churned. His throat tightened. They're dying out there... and my family's in the middle of it.
Jerome's eyes darted back and forth, sweat dripping down his temple. "Oh no oh no oh no!, they're dead, man—they're already dead—" His hands trembled so violently he almost dropped his rifle.
The VTOL felt like a coffin. Fear spread like wildfire. Some recruits tried to unbuckle, desperate to escape the ship itself. Instructors barked orders, forcing them back down, strapping them in again.
The stench of bile, sweat, and panic filled the air.
⸻
The Contrast
And then—amidst the chaos—Asura Khan.
He sat upright, visor dimly glowing, posture unshaken. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, the only calm heartbeat in a storm of panic. His hands gripped his rifle, not with fear, but readiness.
For a second, Woo Jin caught his gaze.
And in those eyes, he didn't see terror. He saw calculation. Resolve.
Like Asura had already accepted the reality before them.
⸻
The captain's voice thundered over the cabin again, harder this time, a whip-crack of authority:
"LOCK IT DOWN! You panic, you die! You listen, you live! You're UNE soldiers now—act like it!"
But the recruits weren't UNE soldiers yet.
They were scared kids.
And in five minutes, the doors would open to war.
-
Captain Remirez gripped the railing as the VTOL shook, voice carrying through the panic.
"Remember your training! Breathe! Stay calm and follow orders—your drills will keep you alive. Do NOT let fear take control!"
For a fleeting moment, Woo Jin clung to those words like a drowning man to driftwood. He wanted to believe them. He needed to believe them.
Then Raul shouted, "LOOK!"
The recruits turned to the side windows.
Outside, the night sky above Eryndor Prime burned red. Whole city blocks blazed beneath them, skyscrapers toppled like broken spines. Dozens of UNE troop-carriers cut through the sky—until one suddenly exploded mid-air, struck by a blinding lance of plasma energy beam! Shards rained fire.
Another VTOL spiraled downward, flames trailing, screams crackling faintly over comms before it vanished in a fiery blossom below.
"OH GOD—oh god, we're next!" someone cried, banging on the hull.
"They're picking us off! We're dead—we're already dead!"
The cabin erupted into chaos again.
⸻
Descent into Hell
The pilot's voice boomed over comms:
"ONE MINUTE TO DROP—BRACE FOR HEAVY FIRE!"
The VTOL dipped, weaving violently. Plasma bolts streaked past, shaking the airframe. Recruits slammed against the walls, helmets clanging together. One recruit screamed until an instructor slapped him across the visor to shut him up.
Woo Jin gripped the bench with both hands, heart slamming so loud it drowned the engines. His mind screamed with one thought only—my family, my family, my family.
Jerome sat beside him, pale as death, whispering prayers under his breath.
Across from them, Asura Khan sat unmoving, steady as iron. His rifle locked against his chest, visor glowing faintly. His calm only made the fear in others worse.
⸻
Touchdown
"BRACE!" the captain roared.
The VTOL slammed into the landing zone, the jolt knocking recruits sideways. Before anyone could breathe, the side doors hissed open—
—and a storm of plasma fire ripped inside.
Screams tore the cabin apart. Recruits in the front rows jerked violently as bolts tore through their armor. Two fell instantly, lifeless, collapsing against the benches. Blood sprayed across the walls.
Woo Jin froze in shock, ears ringing. His training screamed move—but his body locked.
Captain Remirez didn't hesitate. He shoved a corpse aside, storming into the line of fire, rifle blazing.
"SHIT! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE! GET OUT! GET TO COVER NOW! HURRY!!!"
Instructors grabbed recruits by the collar, dragging them out into the firestorm whether they wanted to or not.
⸻
The First Step
The city outside was a nightmare. Streets scorched, alien silhouettes charging through smoke, UNE soldiers already in pitched battle. Plasma fire streaked in every direction, explosions rattling the ground.
Woo Jin stumbled off the ramp, boots hitting dirt slick with ash. His heart hammered. His visor flickered with red warnings.
His first step into war had begun.
-
The Rust Wolves huddled behind a shattered barricade, plasma bolts tearing chunks of ferrocrete inches above their helmets. The battlefield was madness incarnate — smoke rising from collapsed towers, alien screeches cutting through the thunder of UNE heavy guns, and the stench of charred flesh choking the air.
Woo Jin's eyes widened as he peeked over cover. He wished he hadn't.
Bodies littered the street. Some whole. Most... not. Limbs torn free, torsos shredded by plasma fire, UNE soldiers dragging themselves through the dirt leaving trails of blood. One man, both legs gone, clawed desperately toward cover, his screams drowned by the roar of battle.
Jerome gagged. "Holy—God—" He clamped a hand over his visor, forcing bile back down.
Raul, usually full of bravado, whispered: "We're in hell..."
Captain Remirez slammed a fresh mag into his rifle, face grim under his visor. His voice boomed over the chaos:
"Hold position! FIRE BACK! Keep their heads down!"
The Rust Wolves lifted rifles with trembling hands, unleashing desperate bursts. Plasma bolts tore past, sparks flying as enemies surged from the smoke — insectoid silhouettes moving with terrifying precision.
⸻
The Wounded
Then a scream tore from their left.
A soldier, torso shredded, crawled desperately toward them, one arm outstretched. Behind him, more UNE troops writhed in the dirt, shredded by shrapnel, clutching stumps where arms or legs had been.
Remirez roared:
"Don't just sit there! Help them! GET THOSE STIM-HEALERS OUT! NOW!"
Woo Jin's blood went cold. Me? Help them? But his body moved before thought could stop him. He dug through his utility pouch, pulling out the small stim-shot injector — a sleek metallic syringe glowing faint green.
He sprinted out from cover, heart hammering, plasma bolts shrieking past. Dropping beside the soldier, Woo Jin slammed the injector against his neck.
The stim hissed — and in seconds, the soldier's shredded chest knit itself together. Blood reversed its flow. His breathing steadied. Flesh reformed where ruin had been.
Woo Jin watched in awe as the man's eyes shot open. He gasped, then stood, regenerated as if death itself had been denied.
The soldier grasped Woo Jin's shoulder, voice trembling: "You saved me... kid... you saved me!" Then he picked his rifle back up and rejoined the fight.
⸻
The Rust Wolves in Action
Around him, the squad followed suit:
• Jerome hauled a soldier missing his arm into cover, jabbing the stim-shot into the stump. Before his eyes, bone and muscle regenerated, the arm growing back in real-time. Jerome almost dropped the injector in shock.
• Min-seo, shaking but focused, knelt beside a soldier with half his face burned away, applying the stim with precision. Skin crawled back across bone, eyes regrew, the man blinking back into life.
• Raul, terrified, still found courage enough to drag a screaming recruit into safety, his stim-shot shaking in his grip. When the kid's leg regrew in seconds, Raul shouted, half-laughing, half-crying: "OH YEAH —LETS GO!"
• John moved silently, efficient as always, applying stim after stim without hesitation, his hands steady under fire.
Plasma bolts whizzed overhead, explosions rattled the ground, but for the first time, the Rust Wolves weren't just surviving — they were saving lives.
⸻
The Captain's Roar
Remirez's voice thundered again, pride burning through the chaos:
"THAT'S IT! THAT'S HOW WE FIGHT! WE DON'T JUST KILL — WE SAVE! HOLD THIS LINE, MARINES! COVER EACH OTHER, COVER THE WOUNDED! THE UNE DOES NOT FALL!"
For Woo Jin, the fear didn't vanish — but it changed. He wasn't just fighting for survival anymore. He was fighting to keep men alive. His hands shook less as he raised his rifle again, firing back into the smoke.
And for the first time, the Rust Wolves truly fought as a pack.
-
The barricade shook under another plasma blast. Aliens swarmed through the smoke, screeching in frequencies that rattled inside helmets. The Rust Wolves fired desperately, stim-healed soldiers returning to the line, but still the tide pressed hard.
Captain Remirez snapped his rifle up, squeezing burst fire into an advancing insectoid that collapsed in a spray of ichor. He roared:
"KEEP SHOOTING! HOLD THE LINE, DAMN IT!"
Then, out of the corner of his visor — movement.
One figure had broken from cover.
"RECRUIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? GET BACK HE—"
The words froze in his throat.
Because Asura Khan was no longer just a recruit.
⸻
The Blink Step Demon
The quiet boy — tall, calm — blurred into the battlefield like a phantom. His outline shattered into streaks of light. Blink step.
One alien raised its plasma rifle — and in the same heartbeat, its head separated from its body, Asura already past it.
Another lunged, claws wide — Asura twisted mid-step, blinked sideways, and his combat knife ripped its chest open in a clean, merciless strike.
Ten enemies fell in less than a second.
By the time the recruits blinked, twenty more dropped. Limbs torn. Chests caved in. Aliens impaled on their own weapons.
"What... the shit..." Raul whispered, his rifle lowering in shock.
Jerome stammered, "Is... is that even human?"
Woo Jin's jaw went slack, heart pounding. He'd seen Asura train — but this? This was like watching war itself given form.
⸻
Remirez's Shock
The Captain stood there, visor flickering with kill-count data streaming faster than his HUD could process. Ten per second. TEN PER SECOND.
Remirez whispered under his breath, forgetting the chaos around him:
"...Khan... Asura Khan..."
He had heard the name in camp whispers. Instructors calling him the first prodigy of the system. He hadn't believed it. Until now.
Because here, in the middle of a burning capital, a single 18-year-old recruit was butchering the enemy with the precision of a UNE Elite.
⸻
The Fearless Wolf
An alien heavy brute — twice the height of a man, armored carapace thick as a tank — bellowed and charged. Soldiers panicked, plasma bolts bouncing uselessly off its hide.
Asura blinked once — and vanished.
The brute's head exploded a second later, Asura standing behind it, blade dripping with alien gore. He didn't even pause.
The boy moved on, a specter of violence, carving through the battlefield with terrifying calm.
⸻
The Squad's Realization
John, usually quiet, muttered flatly:
"...He's not like us."
Min-seo's voice cracked:
"He's... he's fighting like he's been at this for decades..."
Woo Jin swallowed hard, feeling a chill even as awe filled his chest.
This... this is the guy we're standing next to in the barracks...
And for the first time, the Rust Wolves — and even Captain Remirez — realized Asura Khan was something else entirely.
Not just a recruit. Not just a prodigy.
But a Wolf of War.
————————————
To be continued...