At exactly 0600 hours, the sound of heavy boots and blaring horns thundered through the sleeping quarters. The loud clang of metal against metal rang across the barracks, and the voice of a soldier shouting, "Up! All of you, up now!" pierced the quiet.
Dray Ballack jolted awake, instantly alert. His training had conditioned him to rise swiftly and efficiently. Around him, the other recruits were leaping out of their bunks, hastily donning their uniforms and strapping on their gear. The dim lighting of the quarters flickered to full brightness, revealing a blur of motion and urgency.
Dray pulled his reinforced armor vest over his torso and clipped it into place with a practiced motion. He reached under the bunk to retrieve his equipment: a Model-X Plasma Rifle, its energy core already humming faintly with power, a Thermal Bayonet mounted beneath the barrel, and a compact Auto-Adaptive Energy Shield folded into a reinforced arm bracer. He holstered a secondary sidearm and adjusted his helmet into place. The sleek black gear of the Terra Federation fit him well. This wasn't training anymore. This was war.
Within five minutes, all recruits had assembled outside the quarters in a sharp formation. The cold morning air of the forward camp stung against their cheeks. Standing before them were three figures: Lieutenant Drahm, Lieutenant Joran Vekk, and a new face—an imposing man with a broad chest, deep scars on his cheeks, and a dark-red officer's cape flowing behind him.
He stood taller than both lieutenants and bore the rank insignia of a Captain. His voice echoed powerfully as he addressed the assembled troops.
"I am Captain Kael Stravos. From this moment forward, every breath you take is part of this war. Earth has been invaded by hostile forces from Zanork-5, a rogue low-level star planet outside the Unified Treaty Zone. They crossed the boundary two days ago. As of 0400 hours today, full-scale ground warfare has erupted across multiple sectors."
Gasps and murmurs rippled among the recruits, but a single look from Captain Stravos silenced them.
"We were caught off guard," he continued, pacing in front of the formation. "But we will not stay that way. You—every single one of you—are here because you have the potential to be more than average soldiers. Fort Echelon didn't train cowards. It trained warriors. Now it's time to prove that training wasn't a waste."
He stopped and gestured toward the distant ridgelines where gunfire occasionally flickered against the morning sky.
"Make no mistake. Some of you will not return. But the ones who do... will be legends."
Dray kept his gaze steady. Around him, he could sense the shift in mood—nervous energy tightening, hearts pounding, resolve forming. His grip on the Model-X tightened slightly. He was ready.
Captain Stravos raised his voice again. "We are dividing forces into two primary columns. The trained soldiers—our artillery and assault veterans—will form the First Line. The elite recruits from Fort Echelon—you—will serve as Auxiliary Operatives under battlefield supervision. You will support, flank, and stabilize sectors under fire."
He turned to his left. "Lieutenant Joran Vekk will command the First Line."
Vekk, sharp-eyed and stern, stepped forward with a salute.
"Lieutenant Drahm will command the Auxiliary Division."
Drahm nodded firmly.
"You're not being babysat," Captain Stravos said. "You're being given a chance to bleed for your planet. Your experience here will shape your future rank. Your choices will determine your survival."
A low wind picked up, flapping the captain's cape.
"This is not a drill. This is not a simulation. This is a war. Gear up. Form your columns. You deploy in one hour."
The troops were dismissed with urgency. Drahm barked immediate orders, guiding his recruits into formation drills and equipment checks. Dray marched beside the others, scanning the terrain, memorizing landmarks, and syncing his heads-up display with the squad communication grid.
Every soldier was assigned a frequency and GPS-tagged in the system. Dray's HUD lit up with new markers and real-time satellite imagery. The mission parameters were brutal: sector suppression, enemy disruption, and urban containment.
Inside the mobile deployment station, crates of war uniforms were being distributed. Each uniform had enhanced camouflage, kinetic resistance, and an integrated vitals tracker. Dray slipped into his new gear and felt the reinforced fabric cling to his body like a second skin.
Their units were then loaded into military transports—armored buses reinforced with plasma shielding and mobile artillery mounts. Lieutenant Drahm rode in the lead vehicle, reviewing mission briefings with two tactical aides.
Dray sat near the rear, rifle across his lap, shield bracer activated and secured. The drive to the frontline camp was long and silent. Only the engine hum and the occasional rumble of distant bombing broke the stillness.
They arrived well past nightfall. Massive floodlights swept the area as soldiers moved like shadows across the mud-stained field. The camp buzzed with a sense of controlled chaos. Fighters were being refueled, wounded stabilized, and command drones deployed overhead.
At the drop point, the recruits disembarked and formed ranks once again. A new figure awaited them.
"Lieutenant Mara Vexen," she introduced herself, her voice cold and clear. "Welcome to the 13th Vanguard Sector. We're the last wall between Earth's capital ring and total collapse. You've arrived at the storm's edge."
She nodded toward the barracks. "Sleeping quarters have been assigned. Meals are suspended. You'll be briefed at 0500 sharp. Rest while you can."
Dray saluted with the others and followed the line into the makeshift bunkhouses. The night was restless—no one slept easily. Explosions echoed faintly from distant sectors, and sirens pulsed in red across the perimeter walls.
But Dray lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, unmoving.
His mind wasn't consumed by fear.
It was focused on one thing: becoming stronger.
The war had begun.
And he would rise from its flames.
System Notification:
—EXP Gained: +30 (Advanced Combat Transfer)
—EXP Gained: +10 (Plasma Weapons Certification Complete)
—Level Up! → Level 7
System Interface:
Name: Dray Ballack
Bloodline: Locked (Awakening Trigger Detected)
Race: Human (???)
Level: 7
Class: None
Strength: 8
Agility: 8
Endurance: 4
Vitality: 6
Skills:
• Night Adaptation (Passive)
• Blood Sense (Passive – Incomplete)
• Blood Echo (Tier I)
Inventory:
• Model-X Plasma Rifle
• Thermal Bayonet
• Auto-Adaptive Energy Shield
• Obsidian Data Chip
• Unknown Crystal (Bound)
System Shop: [Access Granted – Insufficient Permissions for Purchase]
Next Level: 270 EXP
Status: Combat-Ready