The barracks erupted before dawn.
Metal shutters clanged open, flooding the rookie quarters with harsh white light. An instructor's voice thundered through a megaphone:
"On your feet, Defense Force candidates! Today you leave as rookies—tomorrow you return as soldiers. Move it!"
Groggy protests rose.
Kafka Hibino stumbled out of his futon, hair shooting in every direction. "H-Hey, can't we at least brush our teeth first?"
Iharu snapped back immediately, already jittering with nerves. "Shut up, Hibino! You think kaiju are gonna wait while you brush your teeth?!"
"...they might," Kafka muttered, earning a round of laughter.
Akira Kurogiri was already standing dressed, his expression calm but sharp, like he had been awake for hours. Reno Ichikawa was right beside him, adjusting his belt with practiced efficiency.
Kikoru Shinomiya brushed past the boys without a word, her battle axe strapped to her back already, hair tied high.
The rookies marched across the compound, boots thundering in unison. The air tasted of oil and steel, the low hum of machinery reverberating from the vast hangars.
Ahead of them stood the armory, its massive gates sliding open with a hiss. Rows of weapons gleamed inside under fluorescent lights—rifles, pistols, blades, even experimental prototypes.
The recruits fell silent.
"This…" Aoi Kaguragi whispered, eyes wide, "…is paradise."
Haruichi Izumo, arms folded, remained calm. "Choose carefully. Weapons are extensions of the body. The wrong one will kill you."
The instructors barked. "Line up! Each recruit chooses final armament. No switching once deployed."
One by one, the rookies stepped forward.
Aoi snatched up an assault rifle, spinning it like a showman. "Yeah, this is it. One pull, one kill."
Iharu fumbled with a handgun, nearly dropping it before nervously laughing. "It-It's lighter than I thought…"
Kafka scratched his cheek, sheepishly testing a basic rifle. "Guess I'll just take the normal one."
Akira's turn came. He walked past the racks, eyes scanning the rows with a quiet detachment. Finally, he reached for a long, elegant sword with a fine edge, its weight perfectly balanced in his grip.
[Ravan: Weapon selected. Blade composition—high-carbon steel, density optimal. Estimated efficiency: 92%.]
He also holstered two sleek pistols at his sides and slung a rifle across his back.
[Ravan: Overkill? Negative. Versatility confirmed. Host preference matched. Approval—granted.]
Akira smirked faintly at the voice, spinning the blade once before sliding it back into its scabbard.
Reno stepped up, selecting a rifle and twin pistols. "Reliable. That's enough for me."
Finally, Kikoru lifted her massive battle axe, the weapon glinting ominously under the lights. She didn't even glance at the rifles. "I don't need guns."
The other rookies stepped back, whispering in awe.
"She's insane…"
"No, she's a Shinomiya."
On the balcony above, Mina Ashiro and Vice-Captain Soshiro Hoshina watched.
"Kids have taste," Hoshina remarked, grinning. "Especially Kurogiri—blade, pistols, rifle? He's either a genius or compensating for something."
Mina's gaze lingered on Akira, sharp as ever. "He knows exactly what he's doing. They all do."
The recruits assembled in formation, weapons in hand. Silence fell as Mina stepped forward. Her voice carried like steel.
"You are no longer civilians. From today, you carry the weight of every life in this country. Remember this—our first priority is always the citizens. If one civilian dies because of your hesitation, then your strength is meaningless. Fight for them. Protect them. And do not die."
Her words struck like hammer blows, sinking into every heart.
Then Hoshina clapped his hands, strolling casually before the recruits, though his eyes glinted dangerously.
"Y'all heard the Captain. Don't die. Pretty simple rule, yeah? But let me add one thing—" He pointed a finger, grin sharp as a blade. "If you ever hesitate to pull the trigger, if you ever think twice about cutting down a kaiju, then you're not a soldier. You're food."
A chill rippled through the recruits.
"Got it?"
"YES, SIR!" they roared.
The convoy rolled out.
Inside the armored trucks, rookies gripped their weapons tightly, the air tense with anticipation. Iharu wouldn't stop bouncing his leg.
"W-What if I mess up out there?" he muttered.
"Then you'll die," Aoi said bluntly, smirking.
"Not helping!" Iharu barked back.
Kafka chuckled nervously. "Relax, we'll all be fine. Probably."
Reno leaned back, eyes closed, steadying his breathing. Akira sat quietly, sword across his knees, gaze fixed out the window as if seeing the battlefield already.
Kikoru sharpened her axe in silence, sparks briefly flashing in the dim light.
[Ravan: Environmental scan detecting residual kaiju energy in sector. Probability of active threat—high. Recommend host maintain 63% output for cover.]
Akira's lips twitched faintly upward.
Back at the command center, alarms suddenly blared. Operators scrambled at their consoles.
"Unidentified signal detected!"
"Size reading—thirty meters!"
"Classification—Level 5 Daikaiju!"
The screen flickered, projecting the image of a hulking silhouette moving through smoke and ruined structures.
"Confirming… designation: Tiger Beetle Variant."
Mina's eyes narrowed. "So it begins."
Hoshina grinned, his hand resting casually on his blade. "Heh. Looks like we're skipping the warm-up."
Inside the convoy, the rookies jolted as sirens screamed overhead.
[Ravan: Alert. Daikaiju detected. Estimated size—30 meters. Combat potential: extreme.]
Akira's eyes sharpened.
The armored gates ahead loomed open, revealing the smoking city beyond.
Hoshina's voice roared from the front:
"Listen up, rookies! Forget training—this is war! Show me you're soldiers!"
The trucks screeched to a halt.
The gates thundered open.
And waiting beyond them, a towering silhouette of chitin and fangs, roared into the sky.
To be continued—
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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