The mess hall was a thunder of voices, trays clattering, boots stomping against the steel floor. Hundreds of recruits packed the long metal benches, still in their sweat-drenched uniforms, wolfing down rations like starved beasts. The air reeked of protein stew, iron, and exhaustion.
Woo Jin sat with Raul, shoving food into his mouth so fast he barely tasted it. His arms still trembled from the morning drills, but the burn in his muscles felt almost... good. Like proof he'd survived another half-day.
Raul leaned back with a cocky grin. "Not bad for day two, huh? I told you — easy stuff."
Woo Jin gave him a look. "Easy? My arms feel like they're about to fall off."
"Exactly." Raul laughed, smacking him on the back so hard Woo Jin almost faceplanted into his tray.
⸻
The Nerd
From across the table, a voice spoke up — sharp, precise, like someone who thought in calculations before words.
"Technically, it wasn't that bad. Our regimen is structured to increase cardiovascular endurance by 14% within the first week, strength output by 22% within the month. Pain is just the body's adaptation curve accelerating."
Woo Jin turned. Sitting two seats down was a skinny recruit with square glasses, eyes sharp but buried in a datapad even while eating. His tray was untouched, food going cold.
Raul squinted. "And who the hell are you, professor?"
The kid pushed his glasses up his nose without looking up. "Han Min-seo. From Archanis city. Honors in quantum physics, minor in xeno-mathematics. Drafted same as everyone else. Not a professor. Yet."
Raul blinked. "...what the hell is a xeno-mathematics?"
"Math designed for alien number systems." Min-seo finally looked up, a sly smirk crossing his face. "Useful when you're trying to predict how fast their ships calculate warp jumps... or when you want to shut down their engines mid-flight."
Woo Jin raised his brows. Crazy smart. He smiled a little. "Woo Jin. Good to meet you."
⸻
The Quiet One
Across from them, someone shifted. A slim, quiet recruit with dark eyes and buzzed hair had been silently eating the entire time, his movements neat, mechanical. He didn't look up, didn't join in.
Raul tapped the table in front of him. "Hey, ghost boy. You gonna talk, or you mute?"
The boy looked up slowly, his expression unreadable. His voice was low, almost monotone. "John. Not mute. Just don't waste words."
Raul smirked. "Silent type, huh? Bet you'll be the one sneaking behind enemy lines one day."
John didn't reply, just went back to eating.
⸻
The Spark of a Squad
Woo Jin looked at them — Raul the loud, Min-seo the brain, John the quiet shadow. For a second, he imagined them not as recruits, but as a unit. In battle. Covering each other's backs. Laughing around a fire when it was over.
Maybe he wasn't alone in this hell. Maybe these were the brothers he was meant to bleed with.
Min-seo finally broke the silence again, smirking. "Statistically speaking, odds of surviving deployment increase by 37% when you build trust with your squad. Just saying."
Raul groaned. "Here we go again with the stats..."
But Woo Jin only chuckled, lifting his cup. "Then here's to beating the statistics."
The four clinked their cups together. For the first time since boot camp began, Woo Jin felt that ember in his chest burn brighter.
—————
The mess hall thundered with the sound of recruits shoveling down food. Trays clattered, steam rose off protein stew, and the air was thick with sweat and exhaustion. Woo Jin sat hunched over his tray, forcing each bite down. Across from him, Raul was already on his second bowl, eating like he hadn't seen food in years.
Woo Jin set down his fork, wiping his mouth before speaking.
"Hey... where's everyone from? I forgot to ask you too, Raul."
Raul grinned through a mouthful of bread, thumping his chest proudly.
"Novara. Farm boy born and raised. Fishing coast in the morning, lifting crates in the evening. We grow up carrying more weight than these rifles. That's why I don't get tired like you city kids."
"City kids?" Woo Jin raised a brow.
"Yeah, don't even deny it," Raul chuckled, pointing his fork at him. "You've got that capital-world look. Soft hands, fancy accent. Am I right?"
Woo Jin sighed, half-smiling. "Eryndor Prime. The capital."
Raul slammed his tray. "KNEW it! I could smell the polish on you!"
The two laughed, but another voice cut in — sharper, precise.
⸻
The Nerd Speaks Up
Min-seo adjusted his glasses, his tray still untouched.
"Kytheron," he said flatly. "Research world. My parents worked in AI development. I grew up inside a laboratory dome, surrounded by numbers and equations. I enlisted because statistics show combat survival is drastically improved when tech specialists are embedded within squads."
Raul rolled his eyes. "There he goes again with the stats."
Min-seo smirked faintly. "Better to know the odds than run blind into fire."
⸻
The Quiet One
Woo Jin turned to the silent figure across from him — a slim, wiry recruit who'd barely said a word since sitting down.
"And you? Where're you from?"
The boy looked up slowly, his eyes calm but heavy. His voice was low, almost monotone.
"Dravos. Mining world."
Raul whistled. "Damn. No wonder you barely talk. That place eats people alive before they're eighteen."
John shrugged, going back to his food. "We work. We don't talk."
Woo Jin watched him for a moment — quiet, but solid. He could see it in John's movements. The guy wasn't flashy like Raul or sharp like Min-seo, but there was a strength in him that came from surviving hardship.
⸻
Woo Jin leaned back, scanning the three of them. Raul, the loud farm boy. Min-seo, the calculating brain. John, the quiet rock. And him, the nervous capital kid. All from the same star system, but different worlds, different lives.
"Guess that makes us one hell of a mix," he said, lifting his cup.
Raul clinked his against it with a grin. Min-seo followed, rolling his eyes but smiling faintly. John just tapped his cup once, silent but steady.
For the first time, Woo Jin felt like maybe he wasn't going through this hell alone.
—————
Two weeks later, Woo Jin hardly recognized himself.
His arms had hardened, his lungs no longer burned on the morning runs, and the rifle that once felt like lead now rested comfortably in his grip. He still wasn't Raul's brute strength or Min-seo's precision, but he no longer felt like the weakest in the line.
That morning, the recruits weren't marched to the track or the firing range. Instead, the drill sergeants herded them to a sealed training dome on the far end of the camp. The doors hissed shut behind them, locking out the sun.
The dome was pitch-black, the silence oppressive. Then the crimson visor of the head instructor flared in the dark like a burning eye.
⸻
Introduction to TAW
"Recruits. You've run. You've fired. You've bled. That was the body. Now, we train the ghost."
His voice echoed like thunder, amplified by the walls.
"What you are about to learn is not just movement. It is not just stealth. It is the doctrine that makes UNE Marines feared across galaxies.
These are called the Tactics: Ashes of Warfare. TAW.
They are more than combat maneuvers — they are survival shortcuts, basically find loopholes in reality itself and use them for your advantage! To do that, you must have knowledge of reality itself, straight knowledge as more knowledge than reality. Understand reality more than it understands you. Do not mistake it as some sort of power manipulation or technology power build up! No it's is natural! Like driving to a destination where it's 2 hours long, but instead of that you find a shortcut road that only takes you 30 minutes max instead of 2 hours! So like I said, more knowledge of reality, the more you see reality differently, and can perform more of these tactics! They are the ashes of every war humanity has ever fought, refined into living weapons."
The recruits stood stiff, eyes wide. Woo Jin felt his pulse quicken.
⸻
Silent Shadow Tactic: Type 1
The instructor's hand flicked. Holograms activated, showing figures moving across simulated battlefields.
"The first TAW we drill into your bones is the Silent Shadow Tactic: Type 1.
Definition: the art of movement without noise. Every footstep, every breath, every motion — silenced.
To your enemy, it is as if the sound of the universe itself has cut you out."
The hologram displayed soldiers sprinting, rolling, striking — yet the sound feed showed absolute silence, like the footage had been muted.
"With Silent Shadow, you run at full sprint and the ground will not hear you. You strike, and your weapon does not echo. You reload, and even the clatter of steel vanishes.
This is not magic. This is calculated warfare. The enemy hunts by sound. We erase sound. And when you are ghosts, you kill before they even know you arrived."
"We learn this from an alien species called the Sassinoids, who we went to war with during our type 2 era. These alien species are purple cloaked shadow humanoid species. They live in a very hostile environment where one simple noise can attract hostile predators. So these guys learn how to adapt by learning how to do this tactics. The tactics has 2 types but we're only going to go over type 1."
Raul muttered under his breath, "...Damn."
⸻
Blink Step
The hologram shifted. Now soldiers were darting across a battlefield, appearing to "skip" forward short distances — like teleportation, but smoother, faster, instinct-driven.
"The second doctrine: Blink Step.
Definition: instantaneous micro-jumps across short space. It is not teleportation — it is a tactical skip, bending movement through condensed paths. You can only teleport to certain places depending on how far you see the distances. But your UNE helmet will help you with that, but we'll be going over the helmet sometimes later when you're all done with the tactic training. There are two types but — just like silent shadow we're only going to focus on type one."
The recruits leaned forward, eyes wide as the holograms blurred across cover points.
"Why? Because seconds kill you in battle. Enemy raises rifle? Blink Step — and you're already behind him. A sniper takes aim? Blink Step — and the bullet finds only where you were.
The galaxy fights by time. UNE Marines fight by stealing time."
The sergeant's voice rose like a war hymn.
"Silent Shadow makes you ghosts. Blink Step makes you lightning. Together, they make you the nightmare that keeps the galaxy awake."
⸻
The Test
The holograms faded. The dome went black again, save for the crimson glow of the visor.
"You will not master these in a day. But today, you begin.
You will run. You will fall. You will bleed.
But when you rise again, you will rise as UNE Marines in truth.
Now... who will be the first to step forward and test the ashes of warfare?"
Woo Jin felt his stomach knot. Raul grinned. Min-seo adjusted his glasses nervously. John stayed silent, steady as stone.
And Woo Jin realized — sooner or later, it was going to be him.
-
The holograms shifted again, showing figures flickering across the battlefield, moving faster than the eye could track.
The instructor's voice boomed, steady and precise:
"The next doctrine: the Blink Step Tactic.
A movement technique where the user deceives reality itself — making existence register them as being in one place, when in truth they've already shifted somewhere else. By bending spatial certainty, the user can instantly appear at a chosen location within a controllable range of meters."
Woo Jin's pulse quickened as the holograms blurred across cover points, reappearing behind targets without a sound.
The instructor continued:
"Understand this, recruits: TAW — Tactic: Ashes of Warfare — is about fooling reality itself. Knowledge is the key. You must understand existence more than it understands you. That is how you outsmart reality, find loopholes, shortcuts, glitches — and turn them into weapons."
The hologram froze. Then words lit up across the air:
⸻
Blink Step – Pros
• Instantaneous relocation. No travel time, allowing perfect surprise or evasion.
• Complete positional control. You choose exactly how far and where to land.
⸻
Blink Step – Cons
• Difficult to master. Fine-tuning distance and direction requires immense spatial awareness and precision.
• Risk of misplacement. Poor control can land the user in hazardous or unintended positions.
⸻
The sergeant let the silence hang, his visor scanning across the recruits.
"You think this is easy? Blink Step is one of the hardest doctrines to master. One miscalculation — and you'll Blink into a wall, a crossfire, or straight into the jaws of something that will tear you apart before you realize you're dead.
But if you master it... the enemy will swear you became lightning."
Raul muttered under his breath, "Sounds fun."
Min-seo adjusted his glasses, whispering, "Statistically, the fatality rate during early Blink Step training is—"
"Shut it," Woo Jin hissed, his stomach twisting. He didn't need to hear numbers right now.
John stayed quiet, eyes sharp. For once, Woo Jin could tell — even he was a little nervous.
-
The holograms faded, then shifted again. This time the field displayed soldiers running, jumping, even slamming into doors and walls — yet no sound followed. No footsteps, no gun clatter, not even the crunch of boots against gravel.
The sergeant's crimson visor glowed. His voice cut sharp across the silence:
"The second doctrine we engrave into your bones: Silent Shadow, Type 1.
This is the foundation of stealth in the UNE. With it, you erase every audible cue: footsteps, armor clinking, weapon handling, breathing, even the fabric of your uniform. Whether you walk, sprint, climb, or break something in half — reality itself will fail to register the sound."
Woo Jin's eyes widened as a hologram soldier punched through a wooden plate, splinters flying — and the room stayed dead quiet. Another popped a balloon. No sound. The silence was eerie, unnatural, like the environment itself had been muted.
"This isn't muffling sound. This is removing it. You are fooling existence itself, bending perception so that the universe believes your actions make no noise at all. That is why enemies call UNE Marines ghosts."
⸻
Silent Shadow – Pros
• Absolute Stealth Mobility: Move in hostile territory without triggering sound-based alarms or footsteps. Perfect for infiltration, flanking, bypassing traps.
• Psychological Advantage: The silence itself unnerves enemies. Soldiers expect sound — when none comes, they falter.
• Tactical Synergy: Ideal for coordinating with long-range snipers or artillery. You reposition without alerting the enemy, setting up devastating strikes.
• Counter to Sound-Based Detection: Negates sonar, audio sensors, and even sound-sensitive alien species.
⸻
Silent Shadow – Cons
• Visual Exposure Still Exists: You're not invisible. If the enemy sees you, the tactic is broken.
• Environmental Limitations: In bright, open spaces, visual detection is more dominant — stealth advantage weakens.
• Overconfidence Risk: Some operators get careless, thinking silence alone makes them untouchable. They forget cover, concealment, and timing.
• Advanced Detection Counters: Certain alien species, AI, or supernatural beings can track you by vibration, heat signatures.
⸻
The sergeant's voice rose, thundering like cannon fire:
"Silent Shadow is not just silence. It is terror. The eerie quiet you bring into a battlefield shatters enemy morale before you fire a single round. Remember — your enemy is expecting sound. When you give them none, you take away their certainty. That is the essence of Ashes of Warfare."
The dome went dark again. The recruits stood in silence, processing what they had just heard.
Raul muttered, "...Man, I can already see myself sneaking up on people with this."
Min-seo adjusted his glasses. "The psychological breakdown rate of enemy troops exposed to sudden sound-null zones is—"
John cut him off quietly. "Doesn't matter. Silence is enough."
Woo Jin felt a chill crawl up his spine. For the first time, he understood why UNE Marines were whispered about like phantoms across the galaxy.
-
The dome stayed black, only the glow of the sergeant's crimson visor cutting through the dark. The recruits stood frozen, sweat dripping down their brows, as the weight of Silent Shadow still lingered in their minds.
Then his voice hit them again, sharper, colder:
"Listen carefully. TAW is not a toy. It is not a trick to show off with. And it is not a button you mash when you panic.
We call this principle: No Ego Warfare."
The holograms lit again. Soldiers using Blink Step recklessly flickered into walls, into enemy fire, even into the mouths of alien beasts. Others activated Silent Shadow and ran straight into open fields — silent, but still visible, gunned down instantly. The recruits grimaced at the grisly footage.
"Do you see it? This is what kills new Marines. Ego. Panic. They think Blink Step makes them untouchable — until they Blink into a crossfire. They think Silent Shadow makes them invincible — until the enemy sees them moving like ghosts and lights them up anyway.
Ashes of Warfare is not about power. It is about control. Discipline. Calculation. Fool reality, yes — but never fool yourself."
He paced slowly before them, each step echoing heavy in their chests.
"Remember this:
Ego kills squads.
Panic kills Marines.
Ashes of Warfare kills the enemy.
If you forget that, you'll die, and you'll take your brothers with you."
Silence hung like a blade. No one spoke. Even Raul, usually grinning through every lecture, sat stiff, his jaw tight.
Woo Jin swallowed hard. The imagery of recruits dying because of foolish mistakes gnawed at him. He clenched his fists. No ego. No panic. Just control.
The sergeant's voice softened slightly, but only just:
"If you respect the tactics, they will make you legends. If you abuse them, they will bury you in the dirt before your war has even begun. That is the law of Ashes of Warfare."
-
Two hours of heavy classroom theory left the recruits' heads spinning. Equations, diagrams, and combat footage burned into their minds. But lectures meant nothing until the body proved it could do what the mind imagined.
By late afternoon, the recruits were marched from the barracks into a sleek, wide training station. The room stretched hundreds of meters long, light gray walls polished smooth, the floor marked with glowing lanes and position grids.
Woo Jin swallowed hard. The place looked less like a gym and more like a surgical theater designed to dissect failure.
The crimson-visored instructors stood at the far end, waiting.
⸻
The Demonstration
The head sergeant raised his voice.
"You've learned the definition. Now you will learn the truth. Blink Step is not about muscle. It is not about speed. It is about deceiving reality."
He pointed to one of the veteran demonstrators. The Marine stepped forward — no armor, just the same plain UNE uniform as the recruits. His stance was relaxed, breathing steady.
Then— snap.
In the blink of an eye, he wasn't there. He reappeared five meters to the left, posture flawless, barely even swaying from the motion.
Another snap. This time he appeared twenty meters downrange, in firing stance, as if he had simply skipped across existence.
Woo Jin's mouth went dry.
"Reality says you are here," the sergeant growled. "Blink Step says you are already there."
⸻
The Recruits' Turn
The moment came. Rows of wide-eyed recruits stood on their marked lanes, spread across the long room. No exo-armor. No weapons. Just standard UNE fatigues and their own raw selves.
"You will attempt. You will fail. You will repeat until failure becomes progress."
The command rang.
"BEGIN!"
Recruits focused, braced their stances, tried to remember every line of lecture. Woo Jin clenched his fists, forcing his body into stillness. He could feel the expectation, like tugging against an invisible thread in the air. I'm here. No, I'm not. I'm there.
He lunged—
—and stumbled forward like an idiot, tripping over his own boots. He hit the floor hard, pain shooting through his knees. Around him, chaos unfolded.
Raul tried too hard and faceplanted straight into the mat.
Min-seo miscalculated and crashed shoulder-first into another recruit's lane, swearing.
John simply stood still, silent, as if he was calculating something too deep to risk moving yet.
The instructors barked.
"WRONG! WRONG! This is not sprinting! This is not lunging! You do not move the body — you move the certainty! Again!"
⸻
The Struggle
Again and again they tried. Recruits blinked half a meter, stumbled sideways, crashed into walls, some even collapsing from dizziness. Woo Jin felt like his brain was splitting every time he attempted, as if reality itself was slapping him back for trying to cheat it.
The air filled with curses, groans, and the sharp barks of instructors.
"CONTROL your awareness! You cannot fool reality if you do not know where you are! Again!"
Woo Jin staggered to his feet, sweat dripping into his eyes. His chest heaved. But in that moment, he felt it — a flicker. Like the floor beneath him shifted, a skip in his senses. For just half a heartbeat, he wasn't where he thought he was.
It failed. He stumbled again. But his heart leapt. I felt it. I actually felt it.
The first step to becoming lightning had begun.
-
Hours passed in the wide gray training hall. The recruits were drenched in sweat, uniforms clinging to their bodies, lungs burning as if they had run marathons. The sound of bodies hitting the floor had become a rhythm — thud, grunt, curse, repeat.
But slowly... progress came.
⸻
The First Successes
Woo Jin staggered forward after another failed attempt, clutching his ribs. Then Raul's shout echoed across the hall:
"HA! Did you see that?!"
Woo Jin looked up — Raul had managed a Blink nearly three meters forward, landing on his feet. For a brief second, the big farm boy had actually skipped across space.
Then Raul immediately tried again, misjudged, and Blinked sideways into the wall with a sickening thud.
"—I meant to do that!" Raul groaned, sliding down the panel.
Min-seo finally managed a clean Blink five meters down his lane, landing perfectly balanced. He pushed his glasses up with pride, muttering, "Statistically flawless execution."
Then he attempted again, miscalculated, and Blinked backwards into another recruit, knocking both of them to the ground.
John was different. He stayed silent, patient, watching the others burn themselves out. When he finally moved, his Blink was sharp — a single step forward, precise and controlled. Not far, not flashy, but deliberate. He didn't fall. He didn't crash. He simply nodded once, as if confirming a calculation.
⸻
Woo Jin's Breakthrough
Woo Jin clenched his fists, sweat dripping down his brow. His body ached, but his mind replayed the instructor's words: Reality says you are here. Blink Step says you are already there.
He steadied his breath. His vision blurred for a moment. He felt the world tug — here, then not here.
Snap.
He reappeared two meters forward. Not far, but real. His legs shook, but he stayed upright. His heart leapt into his throat.
"I... I did it."
Then, in his excitement, he tried again immediately — and Blinked backwards, collapsing into the dirt. The instructors barked laughter.
⸻
The Recklessness
Across the hall, chaos reigned. Some recruits Blinked into each other, colliding mid-air. Others overshot their lanes, skidding into the gray walls. One poor soul managed to Blink upside down, slamming head-first into the mat.
The instructors' voices thundered over the madness:
"CONTROL! DISCIPLINE! You are not rabbits hopping around a field! You are UNE Marines! If you Blink without calculation, you will die — and worse, you will kill your brothers beside you!"
Despite the chaos, despite the bruises and mistakes, the recruits had made progress. They could feel it. The impossible was no longer impossible.
Woo Jin, lying on his back and panting, let out a shaky laugh. For the first time, he believed it: one day, he would master it.
-
The room was chaos. Recruits tripped, stumbled, and slammed into walls as they struggled to Blink more than a few meters without crashing.
Then a single voice cut through.
"Recruit Asura. Step forward."
The tall, buff, lean man everyone barely noticed before walked calmly to his lane. He'd been silent since day one — never bragging like Raul, never spouting stats like Min-seo, never even cracking a smile. Just quiet.
The sergeant crossed his arms. "Show me."
Asura exhaled slowly. Then snap.
Ten meters. Perfect landing.
Another snap.
Twenty meters. Balanced, flawless, as if it was nothing.
A third snap.
Thirty meters. Controlled. Clean. No stumble. No sweat.
The hall went dead silent. Every recruit froze mid-drill, jaws dropping. Raul muttered, "...what the hell..." Min-seo's datapad nearly slipped from his hands. Even John raised his eyebrows slightly — the most expression anyone had ever seen on him.
But the real shock came from the instructors. Even their crimson visors flickered as if recalibrating. The head sergeant's voice cracked slightly as he barked:
"Again."
Asura did it again. Perfect. Again. Perfect. Again. Perfect. His Blinks were like breathing, like he'd been born doing it.
Woo Jin stared, his chest tight. Hours of stumbling, failing, face-planting — and Asura had just made the impossible look effortless.
For the first time, even the instructors were stunned into silence.
-
The wide training hall froze.
Every recruit stopped mid-drill, jaws hanging open. Raul's grin vanished. Min-seo's datapad slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor. Even John, ever expressionless, had a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
But it wasn't just the recruits.
The instructors — hardened veterans, soldiers who had fought Leviathans and Eldritch horrors — stood frozen for a full heartbeat, their glowing visors dimming as if their AI couldn't even process what they'd seen.
Then the head sergeant finally shouted, voice cracking:
"W–WHAT THE HELL, ROOKIE!?"
The words echoed across the gray chamber, almost absurd in the silence that followed.
⸻
The Whisper
Another instructor stepped close, lowering his voice but not enough that Woo Jin's sharp ears couldn't catch it.
"Sir... that boy's name is Asura Khan. Eighteen years old. From Dravos — the mining planet."
The head sergeant's visor flickered toward Asura, who stood tall and calm, not even breathing heavy.
The whisper continued, tight, almost reverent:
"This... this could be our first prodigy. In all of our star system's history."
The head sergeant stiffened, silence hanging heavy for a moment. Then he barked louder, forcing authority back into his tone.
"ASURA KHAN! FRONT AND CENTER!"
Asura obeyed, his expression calm, unreadable.
The sergeant leaned in, almost growling, but there was a crack of awe in his voice:
"You just did what Marines twice your age spend years perfecting. Ten meters, twenty, thirty, with no error. Either you're cheating reality better than reality cheats itself, or you are something I've never seen before."
⸻
The Weight of a Prodigy
Whispers rippled through the recruits.
"Did he just say... prodigy?"
"In our star system?"
"No one's ever—"
Woo Jin felt his chest tighten. He'd been proud of his shaky two-meter Blink. But Asura Khan had shattered the standard on day one.
Raul muttered under his breath, wide-eyed: "Bro's not human... he's built different."
Min-seo whispered, trembling, "If he keeps this up... he might go down in UNE history. The first true prodigy of our system."
Even John, quiet as stone, finally spoke: "We just met a legend."
Asura remained silent, standing tall, his gaze steady. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't gloating. He looked as if he hadn't done anything special at all.
But the room knew different. For the first time, the recruits weren't just afraid of the instructors. They were staring at one of their own — a ghost born among them, already walking in lightning.
-
The silence didn't last long.
The head sergeant suddenly wheeled around, his voice detonating across the chamber like a thunderclap:
"LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS ROOKIE! THAT—THAT IS HOW IT'S DONE!"
He jabbed a gauntleted finger at Asura, who stood motionless and calm, still breathing evenly after his flawless thirty-meter Blink.
"YOU SEE THAT? THAT'S A MARINE! THAT'S A WARRIOR! THAT'S A DAMN PRODIGY IN THE MAKING! AND WHAT ARE YOU?!"
The recruits flinched as the sergeant stomped down the rows, visor glaring red.
"YOU'RE TRIPPING OVER YOUR OWN BOOTS LIKE TODDLERS! YOU'RE BLINKING BACKWARDS INTO EACH OTHER LIKE IDIOTS AT A CARNIVAL! HALF OF YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TO TELEPORT INTO HELL ITSELF!"
He stopped in front of Raul, who was still rubbing his bruised shoulder from his wall collision.
"DO YOU THINK THE ENEMY WILL LAUGH WHEN YOU FACEPLANT IN FRONT OF THEM, FARM BOY?!"
Raul squeaked, "N–No, sir!"
The sergeant spun toward Min-seo.
"AND YOU! MR. NUMBERS! WHAT'S THE STATISTICAL PROBABILITY OF YOUR ENTIRE SQUAD DYING BECAUSE YOU CAN'T CONTROL YOUR DAMN FEET?!"
Min-seo stammered, "T–Too high, sir!"
The sergeant threw his arms wide, shouting at the whole room.
"IF ONE RECRUIT CAN MASTER IT, THEN ALL OF YOU CAN! NO EXCUSES! NO COMPLAINTS! YOU WILL PUSH UNTIL YOUR BONES SNAP, UNTIL YOUR LUNGS BURST, UNTIL REALITY ITSELF RECOGNIZES YOU! BECAUSE IF THIS QUIET KID FROM A MINING WORLD CAN DO IT—WHAT THE HELL IS STOPPING YOU?!"
The recruits stood stiff, half terrified, half inspired, adrenaline burning in their veins. Woo Jin's fists clenched — shame and determination boiling together.
The sergeant's visor flared brighter, his voice rising to a roar:
"YOU ARE NOT CIVILIANS ANYMORE! YOU ARE UNE RECRUITS! AND IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE LONG ENOUGH TO CALL YOURSELF MARINES, YOU WILL BE LIKE HIM! NO EGO, NO PANIC, NO WEAKNESS — ONLY ASHES OF WARFARE!"
The hall thundered with his words. The recruits answered back in unison, voices cracking from exhaustion but burning with raw fire:
"YES, SIR!!"
Asura didn't flinch. He didn't smirk. He just stood tall — silent, composed — as if the praise, the fear, the chaos around him meant nothing.
Woo Jin glanced at him, heart pounding. For the first time, he realized: he wasn't just training beside other kids anymore. He was training beside the kind of person who could change history.
Some of the other recruits whispered quietly "Be like him? Yeah right, the drill sergeant must be tripping"
Some others says "Wow, that guy is amazing! He's most definitely our first prodigy ever in our star system"
Others — "yeah right, we're not all prodigies like him"
-
The recruits still buzzed with awe and dread from Asura's flawless performance when the head sergeant raised his voice again, cutting through the murmurs like a blade.
"Enough gawking! You think war cares about prodigies? HELL NO! War chews them up same as the rest of you! The only difference is discipline, grit, and whether you survive long enough to earn the title MARINE!"
He paced slowly down the rows, visor glowing red, his boots echoing across the sleek gray floor.
"You want to Blink Step like Asura Khan? Then you'll sweat blood for it. You'll grind until your nerves stop screaming. You'll keep trying until the ground itself bends to your certainty."
He stopped, pointing at the recruits as if stabbing them with his words.
"For the next TWO WEEKS — that's fourteen days, every sunrise and every damned moonrise — you will train BLINK STEP until your bodies break. Until your bones ache. Until reality itself gets sick of your attempts and finally gives in."
The recruits groaned in unison, shoulders sagging. Raul muttered under his breath, "Two weeks of THIS? I'm dead."
Min-seo whispered, "Statistically speaking, the injury rate will be catastrophic."
John said nothing, only nodding once, as if already accepting the pain.
Woo Jin clenched his fists. Two weeks... he barely lasted one day. But he knew this was the way forward.
The sergeant's voice thundered again.
"After that — another TWO WEEKS of SILENT SHADOW, Type 1. You will learn to erase sound itself, until your very heartbeat doesn't exist. Until you can walk through a minefield without a whisper. Until the enemy feels the terror of silence before the terror of death!"
The recruits straightened despite their exhaustion, fear and anticipation churning in their chests.
The sergeant's final words shook the hall:
"Four weeks. That's what stands between you and the first step to becoming UNE Marines. Some of you will make it. Some of you will break. But by the end, we'll know who deserves the ashes of warfare — and who deserves the grave!"
The recruits roared back, voices raw, unifying in the echoing chamber:
"YES, SIR!"
Woo Jin's throat burned, but his voice joined the others. Four weeks. Blink Step, then Silent Shadow. The road ahead looked impossible — but then again, everything had looked impossible until today.
And now, impossibility was just another obstacle waiting to be broken.
——————
To be continued...