SSS-Awakening: I Have Infinite Talents

"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity." — Sun Tzu.

– – –

The landscape outside the armored windows told the story better than any briefing could.

The pristine, protected inner sectors of Astralis City had been left behind an hour ago, replaced by a slow, ugly transition from clean streets to cracked roads to cratered dirt paths.

The buildings went from tall and polished to short and patched, then to abandoned, then to rubble.

The borderlands were a different world entirely.

The tall defensive walls that separated civilized territory from the wasteland were heavily reinforced, but they were also damaged.

Decades of mutant assaults had left their mark in the form of claw gouges, blast craters, and sections of wall that had been patched and re-patched so many times that the original material was barely visible underneath.

These guys were recruits who had spent their entire training inside protected walls, fighting controlled matches in regulated rings with marshals and referees and medical teams standing by.

None of them had ever been to the border. None of them had ever seen what mutant territory actually looked like, or felt like when it pressed against the walls of the transport like a living thing trying to get in.

The reality of active military duty was settling over them.

– – –

"Outpost 7. Here we are!" Thomas said, letting out a low whistle.

It was a heavily fortified military garrison, built into the ground and reinforced with layers of concrete, steel plating, and automated turret systems.

The walls were thick enough to stop a cannon round, and the perimeter was ringed with razor wire and motion sensors that tracked everything within a hundred-meter radius.

The soldiers manning the outpost were not recruits. They were grizzled, heavily cybernetic veterans who looked at the fresh-faced squad climbing out of the truck with the kind of open, mocking skepticism that came from watching generations of new soldiers arrive, fight, and not come back.

Fifteen squads climbed out of fifteen vehicles, and the result was chaos.

Nearly a hundred recruits pouring into the outpost courtyard at the same time, their gear clanking, their boots hitting the packed earth, and their faces carrying the same expression that came from seeing the border for the first time.

One of them, a sergeant with a mechanical arm and an eye patch that probably hid something worse than an empty socket, looked Micah’s squad up and down before letting out a low whistle.

"Fresh meat," he said to the soldier beside him, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Ten credits says half of them are back here in body bags before the month is out."

The soldier beside him, a woman with jawline implants, snorted. "Ten credits? I wouldn’t bet against that even if I was drunk."

Micah ignored them. His squad ignored them too, though Dexter’s jaw tightened and Thomas’s fists clenched.

There was nothing to say. The veterans had earned their cynicism the hard way, and arguing with them would only prove their point.

The garrison was packed. Close to hundred soldiers crammed into a facility designed for sixty meant every available space was occupied.

Some slept in the hallways, with their gear piled against the walls around them.

Commander Jax didn’t have time for crowd control. He had fifteen squads to deploy and a border that wasn’t getting any safer.

The briefing took place in the main courtyard, because no room in the outpost was big enough to hold about seventy-five newly deployed people at once.

Jax stood on a raised platform above the crowd. His body looked like it belonged to a professional bodybuilder. Even from a distance, he looked intimidating. He was easily two meters tall.

His name was simply Commander Jax. The insignia on his chest marked him as a Transcendent Warrior, a tier so far above the recruits standing in front of him that the power gap was almost comical.

He didn’t waste time on introductions or pleasantries.

"Fifteen squads, fifteen sectors," he said, his voice cutting across the courtyard like a blade.

"Each squad leader will receive a sector assignment and patrol parameters. You will patrol your designated area on foot. You will maintain radio contact at scheduled intervals. You will report any hostile contact immediately. You will not engage anything above your pay grade."

He paused, his eyes sweeping across the crowd.

"Mutant activity has surged in the past week. We’ve lost contact with Patrol Squad 4, a veteran team assigned to the eastern sectors three days ago.

They haven’t checked in, and their last known position was deep in Sector 4. Something smart is operating out there. Something that’s been picking off my patrols one by one, learning our routes, and avoiding our turrets. I don’t believe in coincidence, and I don’t believe in luck. I believe in alpha beasts with enough intelligence to plan an ambush."

The courtyard was completely silent. Everyone stood in the cold, listening to their commander describe something that could plan, learn, and hunt them.

Jax began reading off sector assignments. Squad leaders were called forward one by one, each receiving a tactical packet with their patrol routes, sector maps, and communication codes.

Sectors 1 through 3 went to squads led by senior soldiers. Sectors 5 through 15 went to the remaining squads.

"Squad Leader Micah Selman," Jax called. "Sector 4."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Sector 4 was where the missing veteran squad had been operating.

Sending a recruit squad to the same sector where a veteran team had disappeared was either a statement of confidence or a death sentence, and nobody was sure which one Jax intended.

Micah stepped forward and took the tactical packet. Jax held his gaze for a long moment..

"Don’t be a hero, kid," Jax said quietly, low enough that only Micah could hear.

"Heroes get their squads killed." Micah nodded once and stepped back.

– – –

Sector 4 was a graveyard.

The ruined urban zone had once been a civilian district before the mutant expansion pushed the border back into populated territory.

Now it was a maze of collapsed buildings, shattered concrete, and twisted metal.

The streets were buried under layers of debris, and the buildings still standing were hollow shells with blown-out windows and walls scarred by claw marks and energy burns.

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