The standoff shattered without warning.
It was not sound that announced it, nor light, but weight.
The air itself seemed to thicken, as if reality had been seized by an unseen fist and squeezed. Heinrich felt it first in his chest—a sudden, crushing pressure that forced the breath from his lungs. His boots slammed harder into the deck as the station's dark-matter engines spooled to full internal authority.
Two-times gravity
The world collapsed downward.
Recruits from both Crimson Knights and TwinBlades were driven to the ground in unison. Knees buckled. Spines bowed. Some screamed as their bodies failed them outright, muscle memory useless under the sudden load. Even the captains staggered, boots grinding against steel as they fought to remain upright.
Heinrich's vision tunneled. Blood roared in his ears. His weighted pack became an anchor trying to drag him through the deck.
Move, he told himself. You can't stay down.
He planted one hand, fingers splayed, tendons screaming as he forced his arm to lock. The deck felt impossibly far away, like pushing against a planet. His other knee slid forward an inch, then another. His breath came in ragged bursts, each inhale a victory stolen from gravity itself.
Across the training ground, bodies lay pinned. Watching him getting up in amazement and envy.
And then—footsteps.
Measured. Unhurried. Effortless.
Colonel Kane walked in through chaos like gravity was a nothing but a fly, an irritation.
His boots struck the deck with quiet authority, posture perfectly upright, hands clasped behind his back as if he were inspecting a parade line rather than a room full of crushed recruits. His presence alone seemed to deepen the pressure, as though the station itself recognized him as command incarnate.
The captains snapped to attention despite the force dragging at them with fear in their eyes.
"Sorry, sir!" Arlo and Malrin barked simultaneously, voices strained.
Heinrich forced himself higher.
His knee locked.
On his feet.
That single motion drew eyes.
Colonel Kane stopped.
He turned slowly, his gaze settling on Heinrich like a targeting reticle. For a heartbeat—just one—there was something like interest there maybe even recognition, respect.
"At least one of you," Kane said calmly, "is worthy of my attention."
Heinrich felt a surge of grim satisfaction——and then the colonel was in front of him fist to the gut.
The impact was sudden, precise, devastating.
Kane's hand snapped forward, gripping Heinrich's head, and slammed it back into the deck with enough force to rattle his teeth. The world went white. For just a few seconds he saw nothing but white and then pain bloomed, hot and red. Something cracked—bone or pride, Heinrich wasn't sure.
"I did not say to get up," Kane said, voice still even. "Is that understood?"
Blood spilled from Heinrich's nose, warm against cold steel. He swallowed, tasting iron, and forced the words out.
"Yes, sir."
Kane released him as if Heinrich were nothing more than equipment out of alignment.
He turned to the captains.
"Explain," Kane said. "And do not lie."
Captain Malrin stepped forward first.
"With respect, sir," Malrin began smoothly, "this was a misunderstanding. My presence was intended to—"
Kane vanished.
One moment he stood three meters away. The next, he was directly in front of Malrin, his hand gripping the captain's head as easily as a child grabbing a ball. Malrin barely had time to widen his eyes.
The headbutt landed with a sound like a hammer striking metal.
"I said," Kane roared, his composure fracturing into pure command, "don't lie."
He hurled Malrin across the room.
The TwinBlades' captain slammed into a bulkhead and collapsed, armor screeching against steel. The mesh suit absorbed most of the damage—but not enough. He was out cold.
Kane turned to Arlo.
Arlo did not hesitate.
He reported everything. The armor. The provocation. The posturing. The stare-down. He spoke with clinical precision, recounting even micro-signals—eye movements, stance shifts, intent reads. Details Heinrich hadn't consciously registered but now realized mattered.
Kane listened.
His face was cold. Detached. Judgment forming behind his eyes.
When Arlo finished, Kane nodded once.
"Good," he said. "Since y'all want to be together so badly… you will train together."
Murmurs rippled through the recruits, immediately crushed by gravity and fear.
"You will fight each other," Kane continued. "You will learn each other's weaknesses. And each team will designate representatives to prove their superiority with skill, not posturing and weak ass intimidation."
He stepped forward, his voice carrying effortlessly.
"Every loss earns ten miles. Every time. Endurance is the baseline. Do you understand?"
Pinned to the floor, voices answered as one.
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good."
Kane's gaze swept the recruits—and stopped on Heinrich.
"You," he said, pointing. Then his finger shifted. "And you."
Kane Jr.
"By the end of the second month, y'all will be the first to fight. You and your bunk mates. Simulation weapons. Arena conditions."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping.
"I want to see which of you is worth keeping and which of you will fall to the end of the ranking."
The gravity shut off.
Bodies collapsed upward as if released from an invisible vise. Recruits gasped, coughed, dragged themselves upright. The captains snapped to attention.
"Dismissed," Kane said.
As they filed out, Heinrich caught one last glimpse of Kane Jr—standing rigid as his father spoke to him in harsh, private tones. Whatever was being said, it stripped the arrogance from his posture, leaving something sharper behind.
Arkyn sidled up beside Heinrich, clapping him gently on the shoulder.
"Well," he said, forcing a grin, "I think we just made the colonel's watch list."
Heinrich wiped blood from his nose. "Of course it was never in doubt. I was going to be the best anyways."
As they head to their bunk room it felt smaller than before and two new items lay on their racks.
Their Mesh suits.
Arkyn's eyes lit up like a child's. "No fucking way. ¡A huevo! Let's go. " He smiled
Heinrich felt the same surge of excitement but buried it.
They suited up but the weight hit them immediately.
Three times body mass. Every step felt like walking through wet concrete. Heinrich's vision dimmed as his body recalibrated. His muscles trembled, heart slamming against his ribs as if protesting the insult.
Arkyn wobbled, catching himself on the bunk. "I'm ninety percent sure I'm about to pass out."
"Well don't," Heinrich said. "You go home means I go home and it wouldn't be fun here or back home without my crazy Latino friend."
They laughed out loud briefly—before silence settled.
They sat, armor humming softly, the Honor Code projected onto the wall.
Discipline through pain.
Endurance through struggle.
Loyalty to all who earn it.
Sacrifice One's self for tomorrow.
Come back with honor or die with it.
"This isn't about glory," Arkyn said quietly almost without his natural smile. "It's about order. About making sure humanity never gets pushed back again."
Heinrich nodded. His mind was already moving ahead.
"Two months," he said. "We need to break them down. Not just physically but mentally that son of a bitch Kane Jr. his pride is their weakness I'm sure of it."
Arkyn smiled, something sharp behind the humor. "Good. Because I hate bullies and that old cartoon speedy gonzalez."
"Why?" Heinrich said.
"Stereotypes." Arkyn said with a smile.
They laughed.
But Heinrich started to go deep in thought and looked at the mesh suit around his hands.
Excited and Frightened at the possibility to test the best of his abilities in the next two months