Sitting in the air carrier, I stared blankly at the row of cadets seated opposite me, my mind adrift in the quiet hum of the engines. The moment the back door began folding down, sunlight streamed in, forcing me to squint as my vision adjusted.
In unison, every cadet rose to their feet. As soon as the door touched the concrete, we marched forward in four orderly lines, led by Major-General Tatelov and the officers flanking him.
Stepping into the open, I took in the sight of the vast military base sprawling before us. A towering platform stood at its centre, built for the ceremony, and surrounding it, massive stands overflowed with soldiers. Their cheers thundered in our ears.
"Woooo!"
"Give it your best, rookies!"
"Show us what makes you a pilot!"
Walking the designated path through the sea of uniformed figures, my eyes caught on a small group of people dressed differently from the rest. They stood behind large, bulky devices and spoke into handheld microphones. Their presence was out of place.
I nudged Sam beside me and pointed toward them. "What are they doing?"
He followed my gaze before nodding in realization. "That's a news team. Looks like there are quite a few of them." He exhaled through his nose, seeming oddly tense. "They're here to report on our graduation. This ceremony only happens once every eight years, so it makes sense. The entire empire is probably watching us right now."
[This is correct, Cadet Firefly.] Andromeda confirmed his words in my mind. [Knight Pilots are the backbone of the Nymphas Empire, revered as heroes and protectors. Broadcasting the next generation's arrival inspires hope and patriotism among the people. Billions may be watching you at this very moment.]
I blinked at that number. "Billions?" The sheer scale of it made my stomach coil with unease, but beneath that, a spark of fascination lit up. "That's... incredible."
Sam let out a quiet chuckle but shook his head. "Yeah, well... I wouldn't be so happy about it just yet." His tone darkened, and for some reason, I felt an unspoken weight in his words.
I didn't get the chance to ask what he meant. As we reached the platform's base, the other training facilities' cadets arrived in perfect synchronization, their carriers emptying into identical formations across the concrete.
[Unknown Constellation Knight data signatures detected.]
My spine stiffened. "What?" I turned slightly toward Sam, but he showed no reaction—Draco hadn't detected them yet. Lowering my voice, I muttered, "How many, Andy? Where are they?"
[Seven signatures detected within the vicinity. The closest is stationed atop the open theatre ahead. The others are too far to pinpoint in Card-Mode. The one above is an older Constellation Knight—more ancient than myself or Draco. Proceed with caution, Pilot.]
I squinted at the top of the theatre platform, scanning the high-ranking officers stationed there. It was hard to distinguish who it could be; many high-level pilots owned heavily modified knights, smaller than true Constellation Knights but just as intimidating.
After a moment, I sighed and let it go. They weren't acting hostile. It made sense that the empire's Constellation Knight pilots would want to oversee our induction—especially with the arrival of three new ones among us: me, Sam, and Zero.
A deep "Ahem!" rumbled through the air, amplified by the speakers. The roaring crowd quieted instantly as the hovering screens above flickered to life, revealing the stern face of Marshal Haslein.
His voice resonated through the base. "Welcome to the Pilot Graduation Festival. It is my pleasure to introduce the newest generation of defenders of Her Majesty, Empress Lucione's Empire!"
The soldiers erupted into cheers, the volume sending a pulse through my chest. It was deafening, an energy unlike anything I'd ever felt before.
Once the excitement settled, Marshal Haslein stepped aside. "Today is a momentous occasion as we welcome these cadets into our ranks. It is also my honour to introduce our special guest for today's festival—General Jackson Foster, the pilot of the first Constellation Knight: Orion."
A tall, middle-aged man with an unshakable presence strode forward. Though his lips curled into a polite smile, there was no warmth in it—only the kind of practiced façade I'd seen on Traveler's. The same kind I wore myself.
[CK Pilot identified. Be cautious, Firefly.]
Andromeda's warning barely reached me before I noticed Sam's expression darken. His fists clenched at his sides, and I realized he had received the same alert from Draco.
Orion's pilot let the crowd's enthusiasm settle before speaking. "It is my pleasure..." he paused as the audience quieted, "to shepherd the next generation of pilots. Looking upon you all, I remember my own graduation, over thirty years ago. I know you are nervous. I was, too. But there is no need for fear. Your peers will support you. The soldiers of the Nymphas Empire will stand beside you. And together—" his gaze swept across us, settling on someone in our row before landing on Sam and me "—we are unbreakable."
"For the empire! For the empress! For the star knight!" The cadets around me erupted into synchronized shouts of agreement, almost rehearsed.
Then, General Foster delivered the real announcement. "To prove you are worthy of your new positions, today's festival will commence with a free-for-all. The top ten of each base will battle against their counterparts. Following that, cadets will be selected at random to duel. The objective is not just victory—" his eyes gleamed as he raised a hand, rallying the crowd into another cheer "—but to prove your worth!"
Then, without another word, he stepped back and vanished into the ranks of officers.
An announcement crackled over the speakers. "All cadets, report to your designated waiting areas. Rank-ten cadets, proceed to the arena."
"All cadets, proceed to your designated waiting areas. Cadets ranked tenth, report to the arena immediately." A different voice announced over the speakers.
The lines of cadets moved toward a deep, dug-out waiting area beneath the stands. But as we descended, Zero broke away, heading in the opposite direction toward the arena.
"Hey, third best!" Sam called out, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Zero turned, his muscle-bound frame making his already customized pilot uniform strain at the seams.
"Good luck up there," Sam added.
Watching him, I couldn't help but note how much he'd grown—physically, at least. Sam had changed a lot over the years, but Zero had practically transformed, as if someone had replaced his entire body with raw muscle.
"Yeah, have fun out there, Zero," I said, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.
"Thanks." Zero bumped fists with Sam, accepting the support with an easy grin while ignoring my lingering stare.
"You remember that bet we made four years ago?" he asked. "What are the rules this time?"
"Oh! Uh..." Sam thought for a second before his grin widened. "Whoever wins the fastest gets an unlimited favour from the other two." We all nodded in agreement, but before Zero could turn away, Sam's expression darkened. "But you... don't expect much of a reaction from the crowd if you win, Zero."
Zero scoffed. "What? Will they be too shocked by how fast I flatten everyone?" Walking backward, he waved before jogging off to the arena. "I'll make sure you hold up your end of the bet, Sam!"
I watched him go before shifting my gaze back to Sam, noticing the faint melancholy on his face. He knew something the rest of us didn't.
"...What did you mean by that?" I asked. "Saying not to expect a reaction from the onlookers?"
"You'll see in a few minutes," he muttered before heading into the dugout.
As I entered, Major-General Tatelov called me over with a simple wave. I stepped to his side. "What is it, sir?"
"You'll be going in for rank five. That position is empty."
"As you say, sir." Then, remembering what happened that morning, I hesitated. "What about rank two? She was incapacitated by rank twenty-three earlier. Shouldn't I take her place?"
"Rank twenty-three is taking her position as compensation for her mistake," Tatelov stated flatly. "Rank five was the only open spot. But even if that weren't the case, I would've placed you there anyway—it's beneath you to waste time bullying weaker cadets from other facilities. Now, take a seat and wait."
"Yes, sir."
I scanned the front row and spotted Sam and Freya already seated, an open space between them. Settling in, I rested my pilot helmet on my lap.
Up on the wood and stone arena, Zero and nine other cadets from different training facilities stood in a loose formation, waiting. A referee then stepped forward.
"Greetings, cadets. The rules of the duel are simple," he announced. "No killing. You may only use the armament mode of your knights. Opponents can be eliminated by ring-out, knockout, or forfeit. Understood?"
The cadets, Zero included, all nodded, eager to begin.
"Good. Ready... set... fight!"
Ten lights flared to life across the arena, and from them emerged the weapons of each cadet's knight. Most wielded swords or spears; a few had firearms. Then there was Zero, gripping a massive staff with a halberd on one end and a mace on the other. It looked as heavy as it probably was.
"So that's Ara's armament mode," I muttered as Zero swung his weapon, already knocking two opponents off the arena in quick succession.
"For a muscle freak, I'd say it suits him," Freya commented. "Really not cute, unlike our little Firefly over here~."
"Back off." I pulled my knife from my belt, making it clear I had no interest in a repeat of this morning's suffocating affection. "Once was enough."
"You're still cute when you're angry, hehe~." Undeterred, Freya wrapped her arms around my head again, though this time with less force. It was bearable—barely—but I still hated every second. Sam grabbed my knife before I could stab Freya for freedom.
On the arena, Zero was tearing through his opponents, crushing the battlefield under his raw strength. His remaining challengers resorted to desperate measures—stun grenades, spirit-energy fuelled attacks—but none of it even slowed him down. He powered through his wounds, forcing his way toward victory.
Curious, I consulted Andromeda. "Andy, is that a trait of Ara?"
[Yes, pilot,] he confirmed. [CK-44 Ara is a knight unit known as the 'Altar Knight,' famed for its high defensive capabilities and immense physical strength—enough to rip a ten-story building from the ground. Coupled with Cadet Ten's multi-knight link system as an AKP, he will become a formidable force in the future—one very few can match.]
"Hmm." A wave of quiet frustration settled over me. I was a defect—the multi-knight link system installed in my augmented brain simply didn't work. If it had, maybe I could've reached the level Zero would one day attain.
[Numbers are not always the deciding factor in battle, Firefly,] Andromeda interjected, sensing my discontent. [You possess a qualitative advantage in skill and strategic awareness. Stories of lone CK pilots defeating multi-knight link users are more common than many believe.]
"Thanks, Andy." Absentmindedly, I stroked Andromeda's compact form on my belt, offering a faint smile before looking back up.
Zero had cornered his final opponent, battering their shield until it was covered in deep dents. Then, with a final charge, he struck them so hard they were sent flying out of the arena.
"AKP-11,000 of Fallen Moon Base is victorious!" the referee declared.
"Yeah!!!" Zero raised his weapon in triumph, lifting it high above his head—
—but the thunderous applause he expected never came.
"What...?"
There was some clapping, scattered pockets of polite acknowledgment, but no cheers, no celebration. No overwhelming approval for the man who had just dominated the match.
"This is what I meant earlier, Firefly," Sam said, his tone heavy. I turned to him, noting the grim look on his face.
"AKPs don't have a positive image in the empire," he continued. "Some... things happened in the past. Because of that, they're discriminated against. Condemned by the public. If you're aiming for the admiration of ordinary people, it's gonna' be an uphill battle."
"...That's no issue."
Sam turned to me, eyes widening slightly. Even Freya, still latched onto me, seemed surprised by my lack of reaction.
"Ever since I was created, I've been discriminated against for being different," I admitted, voice calm. "By human cadets. By other AKPs. I don't know what happened to make people hate artificial pilots... but being the subject of negativity? That's nothing new to me."
Sam let out a slow breath, his shoulders easing. Then, he smiled. "Looks like I didn't need to worry about you after all."