0400 hours.
The bus hissed as it came to a stop, air brakes screaming into the cold San Diego night. Rain-dark asphalt reflected the yellow floodlights of the base entrance, turning the ground into broken mirrors.
The doors opened.
One by one, recruits stepped off.
Most hesitated.
Li Chen Walker did not.
His boots hit the concrete with a quiet, controlled sound—no stomp, no drag. Just placement. Like he already knew the ground. The duffel bag over his shoulder weighed nearly eighty pounds, yet his posture didn't change by a millimeter.
Eighteen years old.
Six foot nine.
Broad shoulders stretching the issued jacket, frame dense with coiled muscle that didn't look natural even by elite athlete standards. Not bulky. Not showy. Just… wrong, in a way experienced instructors learned to notice.
He didn't look around.
That alone made him stand out.
Most recruits scanned the compound—barracks, watchtowers, silhouettes of instructors pacing like wolves. Fear leaked out of them in posture alone. Tight shoulders. Shallow breathing.
Li Chen's breathing was slow. Controlled. Four seconds in. Four seconds out.
An instructor noticed.
Chief Petty Officer Grant, twenty-two years in, had broken men in three different decades. He watched the line form, eyes sharp, cataloging weakness.
Then his gaze stopped.
"What the hell…?" Grant muttered.
Li Chen stood at ease without being told to. Hands relaxed. Spine straight. Eyes forward. Golden eyes, reflecting light in a way that made them hard to read.
Grant didn't like it.
Recruits weren't supposed to be calm.
"LISTEN UP!"
The shout cracked through the night like a gunshot.
The line snapped straighter. Hearts jumped.
Li Chen didn't flinch.
"You are not civilians anymore," Grant barked, pacing in front of them. "You are not special. You are not strong. You are not smart. You are NOTHING. And we're going to spend the next several weeks proving that to you."
His eyes locked onto Li Chen.
"You," he said, pointing. "Tall one. Step forward."
Li Chen stepped forward.
One step. Perfect distance. He stopped exactly where Grant subconsciously expected him to.
That irritated Grant even more.
"Name."
"Walker, Li Chen."
No hesitation. No accent. Perfect English.
"Age?"
"Eighteen."
Grant looked him up and down slowly. "You think you belong here?"
"Yes, Chief."
Not arrogance. Not bravado. Statement of fact.
Grant leaned in close. "You scared?"
Li Chen met his eyes.
"No, Chief."
Something passed through Grant's expression—something unreadable.
"Good," he said finally. "We'll fix that."
They were marched immediately.
No rest. No orientation. Straight into motion.
PT began before dawn properly broke. Sand runs along the beach, waves cutting at their ankles, cold water soaking boots and socks until toes went numb.
Recruits started dropping within minutes.
Vomiting.
Cramping.
Cursing.
Li Chen ran.
His stride was long, efficient, almost effortless. He didn't surge ahead. Didn't show off. He stayed perfectly centered in the pack, breathing steady, heart rate controlled with surgical precision.
The System observed.
[System Status: Dormant — Monitoring]
No prompts. No boosts.
Li Chen didn't need it.
By the time the sun crested the horizon, the instructors had already changed tactics.
Log PT.
Six-man teams. One massive log per group. Lift. Squat. Press. Overhead hold.
Men screamed.
Shoulders burned.
Spines bowed.
Li Chen's team struggled—until the weight subtly shifted.
He adjusted his grip.
Not enough to be obvious.
Just enough that the log balanced.
Pressure vanished from two teammates instantly.
Grant noticed.
"Who's compensating?" he growled.
No answer.
Li Chen's face remained neutral, eyes forward, jaw relaxed.
Grant smiled.
Predators loved puzzles.
Later came the water.
Cold immersion drills. Breath control. Panic resistance.
One recruit thrashed.
Another screamed.
Li Chen sank beneath the surface and stayed there.
Thirty seconds.
A minute.
Two.
The instructors watched the timer.
At two minutes and forty seconds, Grant finally motioned.
Li Chen surfaced calmly, exhaling through his nose.
No gasp.
No cough.
Grant's smile faded.
That night, in the barracks, men whispered.
"Did you see him?"
"Guy's not human."
"Those eyes, man…"
Li Chen lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling.
The System flickered.
[System Notice: User confirmed]
[Initializing Active Phase]
Golden text burned briefly behind his eyes.
Li Chen didn't react.
He already knew this path.
This wasn't the start of his power.
It was the start of the world slowly realizing it had made a mistake