Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Fake Marshal Awakens
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Kaleyan’s eyelid twitched twice as he stepped into the testing ground. He glanced around in confusion. White light reflected brilliantly off the metal walls, and the air echoed with the footsteps of their small group. Beyond that, everything was silent—no anomalies in sight.
Was it just guilt playing tricks on him?
The corners of Kaleyan’s mouth quirked up in a wry, self-mocking smile.
“Cut the wires in sequence, then move the entire incubation chamber. Make sure the test subject doesn’t come into contact with the air,” Kaleyan ordered his subordinates. He caught sight of the bewildered expressions on everyone’s faces—the atmosphere had grown tense—and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“This—this really looks just like the Marshal,” the adjutant stammered. “It feels way too—too—”
Though they knew rationally it was just a test subject—a soulless, mindless shell—facing that face identical to the Marshal’s still sent a shiver of dread through them all. It was as if it might open those familiar eyes and look right at them any second.
Kaleyan had felt the same way at first, but he’d grown used to it over time. He let out a soft chuckle.
“Back when the gene-edited test subjects came out of revision, they all looked like this. Too bad the soul projections failed across the board, so they had to be destroyed in the end. This one survived because the base got sealed before its soul projection could be attempted... Rare, really. Even the Dark Star Hall specimens couldn’t survive the gene editing.”
Kaleyan paused, then said leisurely, “And this scares you? You never saw the failed batches being scrapped en masse—whole rows of incubation chambers rolled into the acid baths. The researchers nearly developed psychological trauma from it...”
No one noticed Gavin, just a few steps away, pressed flat against the seam where the bottom of the incubation chamber met the floor. His fingers gripping the underside trembled slightly.
But the next words stunned him even more. The adjutant from earlier whispered, “Word from White Heron Star says the test subject on Red Earth Star successfully underwent soul projection. Even Dark Star Hall confirmed it. Is that really Marshal Celia?”
A heart-chilling silence fell.
After a moment, Kaleyan’s casual voice drifted over. “Hard to say. Konsetlin’s as untrustworthy as Dark Star Hall... Besides, if the soul projection worked, the memories would’ve been preset from the start. What’s this amnesia nonsense about?”
The group rustled as they cut the wires, then heaved the chamber together. The heavy casters rumbled dully against the floor. Gavin clung to the underside, watching the boots of the Exile Army soldiers shuffle back and forth.
“If the one on Red Earth Star isn’t real either,” someone asked while walking, “then what the hell is that thing that can run and jump around now?”
Gavin’s heart clenched.
“No idea,” Kaleyan said flatly. “If not for the preset memories failing to load, I’d almost think the soul projection tech had succeeded—but as it is, who knows what that thing really is. An artificial human? A clone?”
A moment later, he sneered. “Does it even matter if it’s real? All the Council wants is a puppet. They might panic if the real Celia showed up. A fake could suit their tastes even better.”
They switched to backup power and hauled the incubation chamber up to the surface, heading for the base gates. But before they could steady themselves, a massive “Boom—!” erupted outside, followed by the ground shaking violently. A voice screamed over the comms: “The Empire’s here! Major General! The Empire’s here—!”
Guns whipped out in unison. Kaleyan barked, “Protect the incubation chamber! Forget the baggage train! Run!”
Gavin nearly got flung off by the violent jolting, clinging desperately to the underside to hold on. The chamber was shoved forward in a wild slide, barreling through bricks raining down like a storm, and burst straight out the base gates!
Luckily, no one was watching for the two missing guards. Fighters swooped in, soldiers pouring out to provide emergency cover. They scrambled to load the chamber onto the ramp.
“Run, run, run!” “Don’t stop!” “Cover the Major General!” “Ground-to-air missiles, prepare to launch—!”
Gavin’s fingers gripping the underside were scraped bloody amid the chaos. Explosions boomed around him, the entire fighter shuddering. Sand and shrapnel flew everywhere; soldiers dropped to gunfire left and right, only for more to rush in and fill the gaps. They shielded Kaleyan’s group and the chamber, fighting as they fell back until they were fully aboard the fighter.
The hatch slammed shut. The black bat-winged fighter rose sharply against a hail of beams, streaking toward the Radiant Legion’s mothership hovering low in the sky.
Gavin could barely hold on. His knees against the chamber wall shook uncontrollably—he was on the verge of falling.
But in the second before he did, the chamber thudded onto the ground. After dangling in midair for over ten minutes, his back finally touched solid floor again.
“This’ll do,” Kaleyan’s voice came, edged with tension. “You all head down first.”
Footsteps receded, the door sealing shut behind them. The room fell quiet. Peering from the gap, Gavin saw several pairs of feet in matching soft shoes and white pants around him... Researchers.
Two more stood before the incubation chamber: Kaleyan and his adjutant.
“Too risky, Major General Kaleyan. The GTX0012 test subject has only undergone gene catalysis—no soul projection at all! It’s just a soulless, mindless husk. If anything goes wrong...”
“Save it for the Council, esteemed Academician,” Kaleyan drawled lazily. “We’re both just pawns following orders.”
The academician faltered, then grumbled reluctantly after a pause. Right after, a clang echoed overhead—the hatch popped open, and the overflowing culture fluid cascaded down the walls.
Gavin shifted inward, frowning in the shadows.
What the hell were these people up to?
Kaleyan stared at the youth in the fluid for a long moment, then drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled, as if venting all his inner agitation and frustration with it.
He stepped forward and lifted the youth from the solution himself, wrapping him in a lab coat he’d kept handy and toweling dry his jet-black hair. Years without sunlight had left the youth’s skin deathly pale, his features carrying an innate chill. Faint blue veins stood out clearly along his jaw and neck.
Kaleyan watched him for a few seconds, then looked away, as if even he couldn’t face it squarely.
“Let’s begin,” he said quietly.
The academician approached, attaching electrodes to the test subject’s temples and fitting a helmet over his head.
People bustled about, calibrating instruments amid soft chatter and data checks. Then came a low buzz as the devices hummed to life. Current surged through the wires, jolting the test subject’s body rigid!
“Ah... aaah...” The youth collapsed, convulsing wildly for seconds before the doctor snapped the power off with a “click!”
Several rushed forward to remove the helmet. The youth still twitched on the floor. Kaleyan grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up, demanding in a low growl, “Did it work?!”
Did it work? Gavin’s mind raced: If this was the soul projection process, it seemed far too simple. If not... what were they really doing?
“Signal fully inputted. Commands activating!” The academician glued his eyes to the computer as lines of code scrolled by, ending in a green 100%. He whipped around, thrilled. “All commands activated! Mental threshold rising!”
The youth’s eyes snapped open mid-convulsion, pupils unfocused and dilated, managing only “Ah—ah—” sounds. Kaleyan released him and stepped back half a pace. Everyone watched tensely as the youth clumsily pushed himself up from the floor, hands shaking violently as he instinctively clutched the lab coat tighter around himself.
“It worked...” Kaleyan breathed, then snapped around. “Activate ‘Bluebird’! Now!”
What did that mean? Gavin peeked out from the shadows, staring at the youth in bewilderment. Soaked and disheveled, with vacant eyes and slack lips, he didn’t look right in the head—more like a failed gene experiment.
They’d inputted commands into his brain... What commands?
What did they want him to do?
The researchers snapped to positions. Lights shifted in the testing ground. Seconds later, the floor rumbled deeply and split open at the center. Only then did Gavin realize how vast their space was—this had to be the core of the Exile Army’s mothership. The parting floor yawned like an unimaginably massive beast’s maw.
And as it gaped fully, a half-completed mecha rose slowly from below, gleaming dazzlingly under the lights—
Gavin’s eyes widened in shock.
It was Phoenix!
A brand-new, pristine mecha Phoenix!
The youth stared blankly at it until it locked into place with a clang, its chest cockpit sliding open.
Kaleyan watched the man and machine face off, a profound sense of absurdity surging through him.
How ridiculous: Centuries ago, Celia had stood right here summoning the mecha Phoenix, officers gazing at him with awe and fervor as he entered the cockpit—like beholding the Alliance’s undying spiritual icon. Now, same spot, same scene, but the mecha was a counterfeit molded after Phoenix, and the man just a shell mimicking Celia.
Utterly absurd, a living joke.
“Alright,” the academician murmured. “Now... get in the cockpit.”
The youth stirred, shuffling mechanically toward the open cockpit. Screens around them lit up with vitals: blood pressure, respiration, brainwave patterns fluctuating as curves—most strikingly, the green line tracking mental threshold.
Kaleyan and the researchers turned to fixate on that curve. It climbed steadily amid oscillations, soon breaching 80%—then rocketing toward 90% under their expectant stares.
Behind them, Gavin watched the youth’s back. He was nearly at the cockpit door.
Gavin’s pupils contracted. A bold idea crystallized in his mind instantly.
He slipped silently from under the chamber, hugging the wall as he dashed a few steps. Kaleyan seemed to sense something, but in the instant before he turned, Gavin had already darted past behind him.
Perfect timing, down to the millisecond. Kaleyan glanced at the test subject, then at the mental threshold curve—
In the shadows behind him, Gavin exhaled soundlessly, then bolted upright and arrowed straight into the cockpit!
In a flash, he brushed past the test subject, entering fore and aft; the hatch sealed. Gavin rushed to a corner and hid swiftly.
The test subject moved mechanically to the neural interface, sat, and faced the controls.
What was it doing? Piloting the mecha?
Gavin narrowed his eyes. The next second, the mecha shuddered—and the mothership’s layered hull plates suddenly evacuated—
Bluebird mecha plummeted straight out of the testing ground, like a helpless steel giant plunging into the frigid high-altitude air!
“Test subject GTX0012, stand ready—!” Kaleyan roared over the comms. “Target locked! Activate fire control systems!”
Neural bands encircled the test subject as he mechanically pushed the throttle.
That near-100 mental threshold was no joke. The fire control system auto-targeted instantly—the Empire’s Ninth Fleet battle yachts closing at full speed—and unleashed a savage barrage!
Half a second later, the screens flared with sparks. Several yachts vaporized in the fireball!
Gavin rose, locking eyes on the youth’s wooden face.
Now he got it—what the Exile Army wanted the test subject for. They planned to exploit its mental threshold for combat, parading it on the battlefield under everyone’s gaze like a billboard!
It would be the Alliance’s officially certified, resurrected Marshal Celia. The entire galaxy would quake—and that was the true meaning of their “decoy”!