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Chapter 7 - Lesson

Until the day I died, there hadn’t passed a night where I didn’t awake to the screams of those whom I’d failed. Planets burning, cities erased, and entire civilizations turned to ash. A sea of blood sloshing around my feet as the cries of weeping children rang in my ears, and so many corpses. Mountains and cities of them.

Fifty years of drifting through the Void without encountering another human being — fifty years where I’d gradually come to terms with the fact that only I remained within this galaxy — yet here I was, shuffling down sterile hallways alongside some forty other kids.

If this was a dream, it was an exceptionally cruel one.

All of us were from the same unit, wearing that same familiar recruit’s uniform in various states of disorder. White shirts that’d ended up inside out, leaving the Triumvirate’s three-star insignia a faded pattern on their backs; naval pants that hadn’t been adjusted properly, causing them to drag along the floor as they hid tiny feet, constantly slipping down and having to be grabbed to stay in place.

Some shoes had been left behind as well, their owners having never figured out how to wear them before stern guards came for us.

I’d seen them fumble, panic, and nearly break into tears as those lace-less shoes didn’t obey them, all the while the guards barked for them to get moving. I could’ve helped them. I could’ve shown them how to. I could’ve tried to live up to my name as Captain Yamien Silmund, their grand senior.

But I was just as overwhelmed as they were.

Even now, walking down that corridor in the haze of my own spinning mind, I couldn’t get over that first pair of brown eyes, wide and scared and clearly lacking sleep, that’d poked out of their own room shortly after the broadcast ended.

Fifty years of drifting through the Void, and I’d at last found what I’d so desperately been looking for. All it’d taken was my own death.

This was real. I had returned. And I’d beat and curse and kill and murder anyone who dared to tell me anything else.

If this was a dream, it would really have been too damned cruel.

𐫰 𐫰 𐫰

“…and mankind rose from Proto-Terra to take her rightful place among the stars. For centuries, we were deemed a lesser race on the galactic scale, but under the Great Emperor Dalaméin I, Anotatos Liberator, we…”

It wasn’t until deep into that first morning’s history lesson that my mind finally seemed to catch up once more. Which seemed true for most kids around me, actually.

Their eyes were brighter now, some even excited.

Before the lesson began, we’d been showed how to adjust the smart fabric of our clothes – something I’d done without thinking as I woke up – to countless ahs and oohs. There’d been sweet breakfast bars to ease gurgling stomachs as well. Few of the kids had possessed the wherewithal to eat anything earlier in the morning.

Now, tiny hands no longer clutched at loose shirts and empty stomachs, instead, their eyes were glued to the cinematic scenes playing out on the screens below: mankind’s rise among the stars.

Brave soldiers who fought glorious battles, wise and cunning leaders who outsmarted the dumb aliens, and the unity which had allowed us to prosper. Its backbone, the proud Stratos Apolytos along with our empress, Grand Archon Vorath, the first of her name and the strongest human to ever live. The Immortal Queen, they called her, but I now knew that was a hollow moniker.

Still, as we briefly witnessed her coronation on those screens, towering obelisks swirling around her as millions kneeled in the crowd, the gasps and cheers that filled the room were a stark contrast to the dreary mood which had rested over these kids earlier.

They’d been shivering as we passed by those first windows, showing a million glittering stars spread across the black expanse, endlessly vast and so different from the Silka fields back home.

It was clear that these teachers were trained better than the guards when it came to dealing with children. It’d been a disgrace to watch them pull out kids, screaming and kicking, from underneath their beds to shove them in line after they’d refused to leave their rooms.

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I was even forced to hold hands with a sobbing little boy all the way to the classroom just to keep him from breaking down. He’d been crying so badly I’d been certain he’d get a beating if he didn’t calm down.

I’d still been in daze back then, but maybe it was just a reflex ingrained from thousands of rescue and evacuation missions that’d caused me to grab his hand.

Now, I’d lost him somewhere inside of the lecture hall and I couldn’t see him no matter how I turned my head.

Another three units’ worth of boys were present in this lecture hall, A4. There were eight of them in total, half designated for the girls.

“…”

I blinked.

The lecture had switched to being about our uplinks and the System at some point, but I’d barely noticed.

I already knew all these things by heart, and my gaze kept incessantly sweeping over the children surrounding me, chest squeezing painfully tight every time.

This is what I fought for all those years. If I can preserve this, then every year of my nearly three centuries of service will have been worth it. All of them, so young, innocent, and unaware of what the future will—

A swinging foot caught me in the back of the head. Not hard, exactly, but shocking in the way it caught me off guard.

There’d been no overlay to warn me.

I turned around to be met with the grinning mug of the boy sitting behind me. He was large for an eleven year old with curly, rat colored hair and freckles.

Nyamien’s memories told me his name was Powly Brate, but I’d already mentally decided to call him Chunky Brat. Nyamien wouldn’t mind. They weren’t pleasant memories.

Even now, Chunky’s legs were swinging wildly where he sat, and thanks to the rising nature of the lecture hall’s seats, he only had to scoot forward a little bit to get free access to the back of my head.

“Oops, did I accidentally kick you, Star Boy,” Chunky whispered, loud enough for his nearby friends to hear.

His entire demeanor, from his smug tone to his punchable face, told me the brat had received far too few beatings growing up. Or perhaps too many? Who knew.

“If you’re going to cry,” Chunky continued, still to lower his tone, “should we go find Weasel so that the two of you can hold hands again? You looked really cute earlier.”

Another foot came flying towards my face, but I dodged it as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I hadn’t even realized that the tears were there, not that I cared. They hadn’t come from some weak kick, that was for certain.

If anything, the petty interaction made me smile. It was such a perfect snap-shot of my memories of the academy that I almost wanted to laugh out loud.

Not that I did. With a glance toward the guard already making his way down the rows with a stern face, I just shrugged and returned my eyes to our teachers and the screen up front.

That next kick I let grace my head without even bothering to dodge it. The muted slap and hushed lecture that followed behind me was worth it.

At least until a weepy, “B-but he’s just playing a-around and not listening to the lecture,” had answered the reprimand. There was no need to look behind me to tell where that chubby finger was inevitably pointing.

Yeah, definitely too few beatings…

With an internal sigh, I’d already switched the screen of my tablet to my notes as I turned to hold it up towards the greasy, dark-haired guard standing there.

I’d ended up bringing it without thinking.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Sir, I was merely taking notes to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” The pen was even in my hand. “Should I not have?”

At first, he just looked at me, and then down at those notes he clearly couldn’t read, only to give a slow nod.

“No, go on…” he slowly said, though my smile was no less quick because of it. My salute, no less sleek.

“Thank you, Sir! For our Empress, and the good of mankind,” I said, and I could see his eyes go wide.

Even guised in child-like innocence, I could tell it was the first time the greasy guard had ever received the trifold greeting. In most cases, it was exclusively reserved for respected seniors and high-ranking officers.

In spite of all the decades that’d passed, it still pained me to throw it around so lightly. Then again, returning my gaze forward, the sound of another slap being delivered behind me along with a cautioning reprimand, pulled a smirk from my lips.

Some sacrifices were worth the price you paid.

The rest of the history lecture passed peacefully enough, even allowing me to catch up on some information on my tablet. Whatever those teachers wanted us to learn, I already knew, and staying up all night after my own gruesome death didn’t exactly help me with my focus.

By the time they’d started talking about our training and what was expected of us, however, damp pieces of paper had begun colliding with my neck, and a foot drummed against the back of my seat.

Chunky must’ve thought that, as long as he kept quiet, it would be fine. Worst of all, he was probably right.

Even if I’d managed to somewhat charm that one guard with my salute, there was no way they’d let me get away with raising my voice. Just turning around to retaliate would probably have been too much.

If my time at the academy had taught me anything, it was that they expected us to deal with things ourselves, quietly, or do nothing at all. Another piece of spittle and paper stuck to my neck, and I could hear faint giggles as I wiped it away.

This time, I didn’t smile.

So far, I’d figured they would simply give up if I ignored them, but it seemed they’d instead taken it as an open invitation to continue.

Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t my kind-heartedness or patience that’d allowed me to climb the ranks and survive so long in my past life. I had no intention of living through these shit years of my life the same way twice.

No matter if you were a child or a cripple, if you threw the first punch, it was a fair fight.

The only reason it wouldn’t be was if you were afraid of the consequences, and I knew how to get around them.

To another array of spit-bullets hitting my head, I clenched my jaw and switched to a new screen on my tablet. Even if I couldn’t turn around and beat the living daylights out of them, there were other things I could do.

With all these convenient backdoors they’ve left in place, let’s see how easy it is to access someone else’s uplink, shall we?