The next morning came early. No celebration. No respite.
For Marines, survival meant training harder than yesterday.
Jin and his squad reported back to the simulation grounds at Base Genesis, armor clean but bodies still stiff from stim-burn and fresh scars. Around them, hundreds of other survivors stood in ranks.
And at the front waited Reaper. Cloak draped, visor glowing twin blue flames, voice cutting through the hall like a blade.
⸻
The Routine
"Two weeks per tactic," Reaper said flatly, pacing before them.
"Two weeks to phase properly through walls with Phantom Tactic. Two weeks to learn how not to fall to your death with Air Step. Two weeks to blink without tearing yourself in half with Type Two. Step by step. No shortcuts. Adjust slow, or die fast. That's the reality."
The Marines roared back: "YES, SIR!"
Reaper's visor burned brighter. "Then let's begin."
⸻
Week One – Phantom Tactic
The first two weeks were hell.
Over and over, Marines sprinted at walls, barriers, even simulated plasma strikes—trying to phase through. The majority smacked into walls hard enough to rattle their helmets. Some half-phased and staggered out screaming before med-bots dragged them away.
Jin slammed into the same wall three times in a row, coughing, armor dented. Jerome face-planted so hard his visor cracked. Raul laughed at him—only to get stuck in the wall himself a minute later.
Marco cursed endlessly. Min-seo stayed calm and methodical, improving little by little.
And Asura?
He walked through the wall on the first attempt.
Then turned around and did it again.
And again.
Perfect, fluid, effortless.
Even Reaper stopped pacing for a moment, his visors narrowing.
"...Good. Very good."
The praise was short, but it carried weight.
⸻
Week Three – Air Step
The next phase came after two brutal weeks of Phantom drills. Marines lined up in formations, staring at nothing but open air.
"Run," Reaper commanded.
And they did. Many dropped like stones, slamming into the ground below. Some managed three or four steps before collapsing. Others panicked and refused to jump.
Jin managed to run two steps before his footing gave out, tumbling hard. Raul shouted, "WOOO I'M FLYING!"—then fell face-first. Jerome screamed the whole way down.
But Asura? He sprinted across the air like it was solid ground, cloak trailing, never faltering. He even pivoted mid-air and circled back to land cleanly.
Reaper's voice echoed sharp:
"That is what mastery looks like. The rest of you—catch up. Or stay grounded forever."
⸻
The Schedule
Day after day, sweat and blood filled the simulation halls. Marines staggered out each evening, only to return at dawn. By the end of each cycle, many could barely stand—but Reaper expected nothing less.
"Two weeks each. No exceptions. By the time I'm done with you, you'll either be soldiers who can fool reality itself... or corpses who couldn't keep up."
The weight of his words left no room for doubt.
For Jin and his squad, every hour was punishment. But every small success—phasing clean through a wall, running five steps on air without falling—felt like climbing a mountain.
They were no longer just survivors.
They were being reforged.
-
Six weeks of sweat, bruises, stim-shots, and endless drills had passed.
The Marines were battered, scarred, but sharper than ever.
Now came the most dangerous lesson.
Reaper stood in the center of the simulation hall, cloak draped, visors burning twin blue flames. Around him, the Marines waited—anxious, silent. Jin's heart pounded as he remembered smashing into walls during Phantom, collapsing through air during Air Step. This time... one mistake might mean death.
⸻
The Introduction
Reaper's voice cut through the silence:
"Blink Step Type Two. This is not a sprint. This is not a jump. This is leaving one point in existence... and appearing in another."
He raised his gauntlet.
"Anywhere you know. A room across the base. A city on Eryndor. A star system light years away. Even... realms that do not exist on your maps."
He let the weight settle, then added, his tone sharp:
"But hear this—teleport blind, and you rematerialize in a wall, a star, or nowhere at all. And there is no medic in the universe that can save you."
The room was dead silent.
⸻
Reaper's Demonstration
Without warning, he vanished.
The Marines gasped, scanning their HUDs. He was gone from all detection.
Then—BOOM—he appeared across the hall, cloak fluttering.
Another blink. He stood above them, visor burning from the rafters.
Another blink. He appeared on the far balcony.
Then one final blink—and he was back in front of them, standing as if he had never moved.
"That... is control. Now it's your turn."
⸻
The Attempts
The Marines lined up.
One after another, they tried. Some vanished—only to slam into walls, their armor sparking violently as med-bots rushed in. Others blinked but reappeared only a few feet away, exhausted and coughing blood. A few were too scared to even try.
Jin gritted his teeth, focusing on the far corner of the hall.
Picture it. Anchor to it. Step through.
His body blurred—then snapped across the hall. He tumbled onto the floor, gasping, visor flashing red with Spatial Distortion Detected.
Jerome blinked halfway into a wall, screaming until medics yanked him free. Raul appeared upside down on the ceiling, flailing. Marco teleported but came out vomiting. Min-seo managed a clean blink, but staggered to one knee immediately after, pale and shaking.
And Asura?
He vanished—then appeared instantly on the far balcony. Then on the rafters. Then behind Reaper. His movement was so clean it seemed effortless, like he had been born with it.
Reaper's visor narrowed, his voice sharp:
"...Outstanding. The rest of you—learn from him. Two weeks. No excuses."
⸻
The Grind
Day after day, the Marines pushed themselves. Failed jumps. Nosebleeds. Vomiting. Screams as armor scraped from half-materialization. Each night, they crawled to bed, and each morning, Reaper demanded more.
By the end of the two weeks, many could teleport across the room. Some across the base.
Jin himself finally managed to blink across the hall without collapsing—sweating, exhausted, but alive.
Reaper stood above them all, cloak whipping in the artificial wind.
"Blink Step Type Two is not just movement. It is survival. Master it, and no enemy will ever corner you. Fail it, and you erase yourselves before the enemy ever does."
His twin blue visors flared.
"Two weeks are done. Now—your real training begins."
-
The simulation chamber dimmed, its holograms dissolving into darkness. Only Reaper remained, standing at the center with his cloak draped, visor burning. His voice carried heavy through the silence.
⸻
Reaper's Explanation
"Conceptual tactics."
He let the words hang.
"You've all seen them in action. Echo. Contradiction Lock. Resonance Split. You saw captains use them back on Typonis. You saw them bend the impossible and make it possible. But do you understand what they are?"
The recruits were silent.
Reaper's twin visors narrowed.
"Conceptual tactics are not strength. They're not firepower. They're not even supernatural. They are war on the invisible battlefield. Countering an unseen force, illusions, or the very rules tied to an enemy's existence."
He raised his hand, fingers curling like claws.
"You are not breaking bones or tearing flesh. You are breaking ideas. You are dismantling principles that enemies rely on. Fear. Order. Unity. Existence itself."
⸻
The Three Examples
A holographic projection flickered on the floor, showing visions from Typonis.
• Echo Tactic – a squad of Marines facing horrors that screamed fear into their minds—only for that fear to be reflected back amplified, sending the creatures into panic.
• Contradiction Lock – the Queen lashing out with overwhelming order, only to be boxed in with chaos until she tore herself apart.
• Resonance Split – a hive of Typonians suddenly turning on each other as their mental unity was shattered, their "togetherness" broken.
The holograms faded.
Reaper turned to the squad.
⸻
His Warning
"Every tactic you've learned until now—Phantom, Air Step, Blink Step—those fool physics. But conceptual tactics? They fool reality itself."
He pointed at Jin, visor glowing.
"Remember this: you cannot punch fear. You cannot shoot order. You cannot stab unity. But you can counter them. Reflect them. Break them. Split them. That is conceptual warfare."
He let silence hang, his voice lowering like a growl.
"And if you fail to understand this? If you walk into a conceptual battlefield blind? Then your armor, your weapons, your speed... none of it will matter. You'll be erased before you ever fire a shot."
⸻
The squad exchanged tense glances. Raul muttered, "Man, this is insane..." Jerome whispered, "It's like superpowers, but it's not..." Min-seo just clenched his fists, his face pale but determined.
Reaper's visors flared brighter.
"Good. Fear it. Respect it. Now... you'll train to use it."
-
The weeks blurred into months.
By now, the Marines no longer felt like recruits—they were soldiers who had stared into the abyss of Typonis and lived. Yet, what Reaper demanded of them next was beyond anything they had imagined.
⸻
The Schedule
Reaper laid it out clear on day one:
"One month per tactic. Four in total. Phantom, Air Step, Blink Step—you've tasted those. Now the real work begins. Three months of conceptual warfare. Echo, Contradiction Lock, Resonance Split. You will not leave this program until you master all three, or you will die on the battlefield when faced with them."
No one spoke. No one dared to.
⸻
Month 1 – Echo Tactic
The simulation chamber transformed into a nightmare.
Projections of alien horrors filled the room, their shrieks dripping fear into the soldiers' minds. At first, many froze. Some dropped their rifles. Others broke into sweats under their armor.
Reaper barked:
"Don't let it consume you—reflect it back! Fear spreads fastest when you give it roots. Uproot it! Send it back amplified!"
Soldiers tried, stumbling with the invisible mechanics. Jin struggled, nearly breaking into panic before stabilizing his mind. Raul screamed nonsense until he accidentally triggered a reflection. Jerome hyperventilated until Marco smacked him across the helmet to refocus.
But Asura?
For once, he faltered. The fear hit him too, making his body twitch as if he was fighting invisible chains. For days, he couldn't fully reflect it.
But then, one night, he snapped back.
A horror lunged—its fear wave rushing like a flood. Asura's visor flared silver. The fear rebounded tenfold. The beast shrieked, collapsing into chaos.
He stood tall, sweat dripping, chest heaving. Reaper's visor glowed faintly brighter.
"...Good. About time I saw you bleed a little before you excel."
⸻
Month 2 – Contradiction Lock
Now came philosophy turned into weaponry.
The simulations created enemies that thrived on order—perfectly synchronized movements, flawless formations. Every shot, every step, organized.
Reaper's command cut through:
"Order is only strong until chaos disrupts it. Trap them inside their own logic. Overwhelm them with their opposite until they collapse."
Jin, John, Marco and Min-seo struggled, trying to grasp how to weaponize contradiction. Raul just shouted: "CHAOS, BABY!" and sprayed bullets until Reaper forced him to run laps.
Contradiction Lock required precision—not random madness, but directed paradox. It was frustrating, complex, exhausting.
But after weeks of failure, Jin finally pulled it off—turning a perfectly ordered platoon of simulations against itself, their synchronized firing collapsing when confronted with unpredictable chaos.
Reaper's voice echoed:
"That's it. Don't meet force with force. Break them with their own principles. Make their truth their prison."
⸻
Month 3 – Resonance Split
This was the hardest.
The simulation created hive-minded enemies, all linked in perfect psychic unity. Every time a Marine tried to flank, the hive adjusted instantly. Every time they shot one, the rest countered like a single body.
Reaper's tone was grave.
"Togetherness is a concept. Break it. Sever their resonance. Shatter the idea that makes them one."
Soldiers tried. Most failed. The hive overwhelmed them endlessly.
Jin banged his fist against his chestplate in frustration after collapsing for the fourth time. "It's impossible!"
Reaper crouched in front of him, visor glowing.
"Nothing is impossible. They are linked by belief in each other. Cut it. Attack their unity until they turn inward."
It took weeks. Endless drills. But at last, something clicked. Jin, Min-seo, and Marco managed to destabilize the hive, their resonance splitting—and the linked enemies turned on each other in confusion.
Reaper's voice was calm, steady, almost proud:
"Now you see. Unity is powerful—but fragile. Break the idea, and the whole collapses."
⸻
The Result
Three months later, the Marines stood in formation. Exhausted, scarred, but alive.
They had learned to phase through walls, run on air, blink across realities.
And now, they had touched the invisible battlefield—countering fear, contradiction, and unity itself.
Reaper stood before them, cloak flowing, voice echoing through the hall.
"You are no longer recruits. You are UNE Marines forged in the fire of concepts. You have tasted the invisible battlefield and survived. Remember what I told you... this is not power. This is survival."
———————————————
To be continued...