The Academy's piloting hall was a cathedral of giants.
A hundred VR pods lined the floor like sarcophagi, their neural crowns gleaming beneath the floodlights. On the far wall, towering holo-frames of different mecha classes rotated slowly, each dwarfing the cadets gathered below.
Captain Joran Kade strode onto the platform, his prosthetic arm clicking softly. His gaze swept across the ranks, cold and sharp.
"Today," he began, "you will take your first step toward becoming true pilots. You have learned the theory. You have studied the designs. But none of it matters until you face the reality of the machine. Today we begin the Foundation of Piloting."
He gestured, and the holos expanded until the air was filled with titans of light.
"Every mecha you will encounter falls into one of seven classes. Each serves a distinct purpose on the battlefield. Learn their strengths. Learn their weaknesses. Master them—or they will destroy you."
The Classes of War
The holo shifted to the smallest frame: sleek, narrow-limbed, with sensor arrays bristling from its head.
Scout Class
Weight: Low
Size: 3mm
"The Scout," Kade said. "Fast. Fragile. Eyes and ears of the battlefield. Scouts do not fight—they survive. They slip behind enemy lines, disrupt supply chains, call down artillery. A pilot who cannot master agility has no place here."
The holo grew, reshaping into a stockier machine clad in armor.
Knight Class
Weight: Low to Medium
Size: 3mm to 5mm
"The Knight. The most common frame. Balanced in speed and armor. A duelist. The bread and butter of our forces. Learn this frame well, for you will spend years within it."
Next came a machine longer-limbed, bearing a great plasma lance.
Cavalry Class
Weight: Medium
Size: 5mm
"The Cavalry. Designed for charges, shock assaults, breakthroughs. Their lances and speed tear through enemy lines, but they are vulnerable when pinned down."
The holo expanded into a hulking machine bristling with cannons.
Artillery Class
Weight: Medium to Heavy
Size: 5mm to 10mm
"Artillery. The rain of death. These mecha never fight alone. Their power lies in distance, raining plasma and missiles on the enemy. Without escorts, they are fragile prey."
The machine swelled larger still, its armored chest like a fortress wall.
Juggernaut Class
Weight: Heavy
Size: 10mm
"The Juggernaut. Heavy armor. Heavy weapons. A wall that walks. They anchor the line, soak fire, crush resistance. Few pilots have the strength of will to endure their sluggish pace."
Next came a formation of hulking machines, their shields locking together into an impenetrable barrier.
Phalanx Class
Weight: Heavy to Super Heavy
Size: 10mm to 15mm
"The Phalanx. More than a machine—it is a doctrine. Phalanx mecha fight in units, shields overlapping, their mass unstoppable. Alone, they are clumsy. Together, they are invincible."
Finally, the holos flared into brilliance. A silhouette filled the hall, dwarfing even the walls. Its frame stretched higher than towers, cannons mounted on its shoulders like cities of steel.
Titan Class
Weight: Super Heavy
Size: 15mm
The cadets gasped. Even Olivia felt her throat tighten.
"The Titans," Kade said, his voice low with reverence. "The gods of the battlefield. Rare. Expensive. Devastating. To pilot one is the highest honor. Few are ever chosen. Fewer still survive."
He let the words sink in. The silence was heavy, trembling with awe.
"Today you will not touch Titans. Not Juggernauts. Not Phalanx. You are children. We begin with Scouts and Knights. Enter the pods."
Baptism of Steel
Olivia slid into her pod, the neural crown pressing against her temples. The world dissolved.
She opened her eyes inside the cockpit of a Scout. The frame was slender, almost fragile, the controls stripped to bare essentials. Data streamed across her HUD—speed, thrust, sensor readouts.
Light. Fast. Fragile.
"Simulation start," Kade's voice boomed.
The world exploded into motion. Olivia's Scout shot forward, the ground blurring beneath its feet. Wind tore at her sensors. She weaved between obstacles, each movement requiring precision and balance.
Around her, cadets stumbled. One tripped over a barrier and crashed into the dirt. Another miscalculated a leap and slammed into a wall, systems shutting down.
Olivia breathed steadily. Her Talent sang in her blood, threads of data weaving seamlessly with her instincts. She felt the Scout's joints, the torque in each servo, the thrust of its boosters. It was not separate. It was her.
She vaulted walls, ducked drones, sprinted across narrow beams with unerring balance. The machine responded as though it had waited for her all along.
At the finish line, her score flashed: Top 3.
Only Marcus and one other cadet had done better.
His voice cut across the comms. "Not bad, Corvinus. But the Knight isn't a toy. Let's see if you can fight."
Duelists in Steel
The simulation shifted. Olivia found herself inside the cockpit of a Knight. The frame was heavier, armor plating cladding its limbs. In its hand gleamed a plasma blade, humming with lethal energy.
"Duel format," Kade announced. "Knights face Knights. Last standing wins."
The arena flared into light. Olivia's opponent strode forward—a tall boy named Darius, his blade raised nervously.
The countdown began.
Three. Two. One.
They charged.
Darius swung wildly. Olivia sidestepped, the Knight's servos whirring smoothly. She countered with a precise slash, severing his weapon arm in a burst of sparks. The system declared her victorious before he even hit the ground.
Match after match, Olivia advanced. Her movements were fluid, efficient, guided by instinct and data. She disarmed, disabled, and dismantled her opponents one by one.
Until only Marcus remained.
His Knight stood across the arena, gleaming blade raised, posture flawless. The countdown began.
Three. Two. One.
They clashed.
The impact shook her cockpit. Sparks exploded as blade met blade. Marcus pressed hard, strength and speed perfectly balanced. Olivia yielded, twisting aside, countering with precision strikes. For a moment, they were equals—steel against steel, sparks raining around them.
But Marcus was relentless. He feinted left, then slammed her Knight with a shoulder check that sent her sprawling. Before she could recover, his blade hovered at her throat.
"Match over," the system declared.
Marcus's smirk filled her display. "Second place again."
Olivia swallowed her frustration. Her heart pounded, her hands trembled, but her eyes burned with fire. So close. Too close. Next time, I'll win.
Aftermath
When the cadets emerged from the pods, sweat plastered their uniforms, eyes wide with exhaustion and exhilaration. Kade surveyed them with his sharp gaze.
"Some of you will make fine pilots," he said. His eyes lingered on Marcus, then briefly on Olivia. "Others will wash out before the year ends. Remember this: the machine does not forgive weakness. Learn its rhythm—or it will kill you."
The cadets saluted, dismissed.
Night Thoughts
That night, Olivia lay awake in her bunk, her System window glowing faintly in her vision:
[Name; Olivia Corvinus]
[Compatibility; Rank A / Alpha]
[Innate System Function; Technology Communication]
[Strength; 5]
[Dexterity; 6]
[Agility; 6]
[Intelligence; 9]
[Endurance; 5]
[Perception; 8]
[Additional System Functions; Pending Unlock]
Her hands still tingled from the phantom weight of the Knight's blade. She replayed the duel again and again, analyzing every strike, every mistake. She saw where she hesitated, where Marcus pressed his advantage.
She whispered to herself, low enough that no one else in the dorm could hear.
"I won't stay second. Not forever."
Her gaze drifted to the image of the Titan still burned into her memory. A god of steel, vast and terrible.
"That's where I belong," she whispered. "Not in Scouts. Not in Knights. In the Titans."
The thought filled her with equal parts terror and longing. To pilot such a machine was madness. Suicide. Glory.
But deep in her bones, in the fragments of memory that were not her own, Olivia knew: one day she would climb into the cockpit of a Titan.
And when she did, the galaxy would tremble.