The Grand Forum pulsed with anticipation. Thousands of cadets had gathered—new blood from every corner of Human Federation space. They sat in tight, uniform rows on suspended platforms, all spiraling inward toward the grand stage in the center of the zero-gravity dome. The air was sharp, clean, humming with quiet tension.
Kael Renn sat on Platform 47-G, his back straight, eyes locked on the center. Around him, some whispered nervously. Others looked bored. A few, like him, remained silent—waiting. Watching.
Then, the lights dimmed.
A single spotlight flared to life at the center of the forum, illuminating the stage.
From above, a shape descended.
He wore a cloak of starlight-black trimmed with silver, his medals gleaming like captured suns. His presence was gravity itself—silent, heavy, impossible to ignore.
Fleet Admiral Tarsus Veylan, Dean of Stellar Academy. One of the living legends of the Federation. A man who had once commanded an entire front during the Siege of Antares. The mind behind the Scorchfield Maneuver. The executor of ten planetary victories. The Butcher of Cerath, the Savior of Io's Refuge, the Steel Ghost.
His boots touched the stage with the precision of a hammer hitting steel.
And then he spoke.
"Cadets."
A single word. The sound of it echoed across the dome like thunder over glass. Every eye snapped forward.
"You stand at the mouth of a crucible. Stellar Academy is not a place of learning—it is a place of transformation. You will not leave as the same people who entered this hall. You will either rise as weapons of the Federation… or you will be discarded like broken scrap."
"I am not your father. I am not your friend. I am the force that will break you. Or make you."
"Out there, beyond this station, lies the truth of the universe: it is vast, merciless, and crawling with enemies. Pirates who carve flesh from planets. Rogue AI that whisper genocide. Alien threats still unknown, waiting beyond the veil of explored stars."
"To fight them, we do not need dreamers. We do not need patriots. We need commanders. We need killers. We need leaders forged in agony and pressure. And only a few of you will become that."
Silence followed. No cheers. No applause. Only breath held tight.
Admiral Veylan took a single step forward, his cybernetic eye sweeping across the tiers of cadets.
"You are no longer children of your homeworlds. You are cadets of Stellar Academy. You belong to the Federation now. Your old names, your family status, your political worth mean nothing here."
"Here, performance is your currency. Precision is your virtue. Obedience is your shield. Excellence is your sword."
"From this moment forward, everything you do will be judged. Tracked. Tested. You will live by your results. Or you will not live long at all."
Another pause. Then, a slight nod. From the shadows behind him, ten instructors emerged—one for each training division. Their uniforms bore unique insignia, and each radiated a different kind of menace.
Among them stood Instructor Voss, arms folded, expression flat.
"Your real training begins tomorrow. Some of you will quit. Some of you will break. Some of you will be buried."
"But one or two of you…" He turned, voice lowering. "One or two of you will rise. Will become captains. Admirals. Maybe… legends."
"For those few, know this: command is not glory. It is burden. And blood. And the crushing weight of choosing who lives and who dies."
His voice softened, just for a moment.
"If you are not ready to bear that weight, leave. Now."
Silence stretched. No one moved.
The Admiral smiled, but it was the smile of a man who had buried too many to count.
"Good. Then let the forge begin."
The lights dimmed. A chime rang across the dome. The ceremony was over.
And the nightmare was about to begin.
As the cadets rose and began to exit in rigid lines, Kael stayed seated for a moment longer. He could still feel the Admiral's words burning in his chest.
"One or two of you will rise."
He didn't know about the others. But he knew one thing:
He would be one of them.
Even if it meant burning everything in his way.