Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Zero-G Dash
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"You're late."
"Sorry."
"No big deal. If you're too late, we just leave you behind."
The instructor replied coolly and shut the shuttle doors.
Inside the shuttle, nearly a hundred cadets were already suited up in their training armor, ready for class.
I found my spot and slipped into the prepared armor suit.
*Man, I think this every time, but it's well-made.*
Training armor suits weren't some cheap knockoffs.
They were actually superior to standard military gear.
The design was sleek and stylish, not some half-assed job.
Once I put it on, it looked just like the aliens from Planet KrXpton in those SuperXman comics.
*Uncomfortable.*
The moment I suited up, my senses dulled.
It felt suffocating.
Over half my senses came from the Claw trait 'Wind Antenna.'
Barton's words from before resurfaced every time I wore one of these armor suits.
*Still gotta wear it.*
This was outer space.
In the brutal vacuum, you had no choice but to suit up if you wanted to survive.
I couldn't wait for the core weapon we'd get as third-years.
"Everyone's here. Grab your gear and disembark."
We reached the destination in no time.
Terra's gravity kept it from being total zero-G, but it didn't hinder the lesson at all.
The cadets poured out into space and quickly stabilized using their thrusters.
This was the sixth class already.
No one showed the clumsy flailing from the first time.
-Don't let there be any idiots who forget their gear again.
The instructor's voice came through the comms on our helmet.
In the vacuum where sound didn't carry, we'd switched to voice transmission.
-Today, practice free-form 3D maneuvers on your own, then we'll do a short real-battle game. Spend the time freely and assemble back here in two hours.
Free practice, huh.
I looked around.
The only familiar face in this class was Barton.
I linked up a private channel with him.
"What do you wanna do?"
-How about warming up first?
"Good idea. I'll mark the coordinates."
Training armor suits were tricky to get used to.
Thrust direction and power were based on predicted body movements, and fine control was tough.
But there were upsides.
With enough mastery, you could navigate space like it was your backyard.
"Ready..."
-Set.
The best way to master it? 'Dash.'
Dash involved outputting virtual coordinates, hitting as many checkpoints as possible en route to the goal at max speed.
The more skilled you got, the more checkpoints appeared, demanding advanced maneuvers beyond normal proficiency.
-3, 2, 1, GO!
Checkpoints flooded my HUD the instant we started.
Level 10.
Advanced.
At advanced, they were packed densely, a chaotic mess.
First checkpoint: straight down.
I flipped immediately and boosted.
-Win +1 Point!
I nailed the start.
No time to dawdle, though.
Barton's suit handling was neck-and-neck with mine.
-Lose -1 Point!
Lost a point quick.
I had more checkpoints, but he snagged bonus maneuvers for the score.
Couldn't ignore that.
Little gaps like this would snowball; even if I hit goal first, I'd lose unless I pulled way ahead.
*Not happening.*
No falling behind now.
I pushed harder.
Right after marking a new checkpoint, I veered slightly off-path.
Chain a series of sharp turns here, and I'd rack up big points.
-Win +3 Points!
-Lose -1 Point!
Success.
Razor-thin lead.
If I held winner status...
-Lose -1 Point!
-Lose -1 Point!
Halfway around the track, Barton predictably cheated.
"Doing it again?!"
-Gifts are meant to be used.
He conjured a foothold that had no business existing in this void.
A cryogenic crystal from his ability.
He shaped it into a wide platform, then used it for maneuvers impossible in just an armor suit.
Even in waterless space.
His ability scoffed at physics like it was nothing.
-Lose -1 Point!
-Win +1 Point!
I knew he'd pull it.
Barton matched me physically, but his main edge was his ability.
And he was a cold-blooded competitor.
He'd use any winning tool without hesitation.
-Lose -3 Points!
-Winner Racer Change!
Scores flipped.
He chained bonus checkpoints.
Now it was just who hit goal first.
I ramped up speed.
Memorized all checkpoints, plotted the shortest path in my head.
-Win +1 Point!
-Lose -3 Points!
-Win +1 Point!
Ditching bonus thoughts boosted my pace.
No room for output drop in max-thrust dashes.
Then we hit the escalating difficulty zone near goal.
*Almost there!*
New system here: Red Zones marking enemy fire threats. Touch one, game over.
They spawned randomly, so you had to throttle back now to dodge.
One slip, and you'd veer way off optimal path.
Most avoided risky plays behind.
*Not me. Punch through.*
I took the gamble.
No win otherwise.
Real battle? Never. But training? Go wild.
-Win +1 Point!
-Lose -1 Point!
Goal closing in.
Barton outdid me with his ability, but score gap wasn't critical.
At this rate, my lead could clinch goal points.
But things never go to plan.
"Whoa!"
Red Zone blanketed the goal.
Barely grazed it, but momentum killed.
Dodged back, swung wide.
-Lose -1 Point!
-Lose -1 Point!
-First Goal! +13 Points!
-Winner Racer Change!
Short lead from his goal, but no celebrating.
As expected, Barton tagged goal right after, flipping winner again.
"Damn, lost anyway. That's cheap, right?"
-Minimal use.
"Yeah, you win."
I glared; he looked away.
His ability meant few wins for me.
Just early suit-training days, none lately.
Cursed my martial focus, swallowed the bitterness.
"One more. No ability."
-I'll think about it.
"Level 13. High-diff maneuvers this time."
-Level 13? I like the difficulty bump. But let's check unfamiliar moves in practice mode first.
"Sure."
13 was a big jump.
Took his advice, drilled new maneuvers.
Barrel rolls, Cobra maneuvers—variety galore.
Lost every Dash, but fun anyway.
Two hours up, assembly time.
-The game is team battle.
Instructor gathered us, explained rules.
Divide into 10 teams, fight in provided space.
Abilities allowed; personal arms: energy guns, one-way shock grenades.
Plus 5 barrier generators per team.
"Martial users still get shafted."
-Team up?
"Hell yeah. But teams random, right?"
Spot on.
Teams balanced by ability ratio, then randomized.
I equipped the emergency barrier—dropout protection.
Unlike team standard ones.
Auto-triggers on severe suit damage, flashes red to mark elimination.
Ten times stronger output—to prevent training deaths.
Yeah.
Deaths.
*Accidents keep happening, though...*
Realistic drills meant unavoidable casualties.
Even with top-tier emergency barriers, cadets' skills pierced them.
Merdi'd racked up 'multiple' deaths and heavies, so barred from these.
*Her temper makes realistic training impossible.*
Headmaster's gear upgrades cut deaths over time.
But no compact device stops Merdi's ability.
*Barton's control? Untouchable.*
Opposites.
Merdi floods raw power; Barton wields precise control, spot-on.
His isn't weak, though.
Monstrous, like hers—just leashed.
Unleashed? Disaster twin.
-We're on opposite teams.
"Go easy."
-I'll think about it.
Split from Barton; teamed with eight others.
Mid-second semester, mostly familiar faces.
-Leonard should lead?
-Agreed.
-No objections.
Not everyone liked me.
Most neutral outside the friendly few.
But my RTA Tactics scores were legend—easy pick for commander.
"Quick intro: let's do this."
-Good luck, boss.
A cadet sidled close, shy voice.
Familiar face.
'Yun Ji-hye.'
Classic Korean look: black bob, even features.
Chubby cheeks, short for cadet—cute vibe.
Rare Korean name here; key original character.
"Head to the set first."
Off to the battle set.
Wreckage of a scrapped battleship floated in chaos—real decommissioned hull, they said.