A few days had passed since the turbulent chaos of the selection exams.
In his cramped, dingy apartment on the outskirts of Kōtetsu, Arata sat huddled on his old single bed, staring blankly into space. Dark circles framed his eyes from lack of sleep, and a rough stubble shadowed his jaw. The room was a graveyard of instant noodle cups and empty beer cans. Waiting, he realized, was the cruelest form of torture. Despite his best efforts to keep his scores "just enough to pass," the incident where he pulverized a five-million-dollar simulation robot from the inside out left him terrified that the military would haul him off for dissection rather than enlistment.
Ding-dong!
The mailman's whistle pierced the silence of the hallway. Moments later, the heavy thud of a thick envelope sliding through the mail slot echoed against the floorboards.
Arata's eyes ignited. He lunged for the envelope with the predatory speed of a starving beast. Flipping it over, his gaze slammed into the brilliant red wax seal bearing the hexagonal shield of the V.G.U.
Arata's calloused hands trembled. He carefully peeled back the folds of the envelope, holding his breath as if a single sudden movement might shatter the dream he had nurtured for six long years.
Inside was a stiff, high-quality certificate. Printed in sharp, bold letters that burned into his retinas was the message:
"CONGRATULATIONS, RECRUIT. EVALUATION RESULT: QUALIFIED. ASSIGNED UNIT: BASE NO. 2 – FORWARD COMMAND HEADQUARTERS."
Arata let the paper drift onto his lap, tilting his head back to stare at the yellowed ceiling. He exhaled a long, shaky sigh of relief, feeling a thousand-pound weight lift from his chest. He smiled. Finally, the "bottom-tier" scrap hauler had secured a ticket into the very place where Kaito was stationed.
Two days later.
A massive convoy of armored buses, painted in grim military grey, thundered forward carrying thousands of new recruits. They cut through the smoke-belching industrial sectors of Kōtetsu, leaving the dilapidated slums behind as they headed straight for the restricted military zone at the city's core.
Pressed against the bus windows, Arata and the other recruits gasped in sheer awe.
From the perspective of mere mortals, the Forward Command Headquarters — Base No. 2 loomed like an invulnerable steel fortress birthed from the heart of the industrial metropolis. Colossal alloy walls, hundreds of meters high, pierced the heavens, blotting out the scorching sun. Running along the battlements were fuel conduits as thick as skyscrapers, interwoven like mechanical veins feeding a gargantuan metal beast.
U-OAAAAAAA!
A siren rumbled like distant thunder. Slowly, twin steel gates, dozens of meters thick, groaned open. The heavy shriek of mechanical gears echoed through the air, signaling that the gates to "Training Hell" were now open.
As they disembarked, thousands of trainees stood frozen, their skin crawling at the sheer, majestic scale of the base. Standing before it, humanity felt like nothing more than a swarm of tiny ants.
They were quickly herded into the Central Grand Hall, a space capable of holding tens of thousands. Rows upon rows of recruits stood in perfect, crisp formation in their brand-new military uniforms. High above on the command platform, the V.G.U. elite sat in uniforms glistening with medals, watching with cold eyes.
The loudspeakers boomed:
"Next on the program, we invite the Top Recruit of this class — Candidate Reika — to represent the newcomers and deliver the oath!"
From the front row, a small but commanding figure stepped out. Reika ascended the high podium with regal pride. Today, she wore a form-fitting recruit uniform, yet her aristocratic and arrogant aura remained unshaken. She tucked a strand of her brilliant golden hair behind her ear, sweeping her sharp gaze across the entire hall. In a clear, steely voice, Reika began to recite the oath to exterminate the Kaiju and swear absolute loyalty to humanity.
Down in the ranks, lost in the sea of faces, Arata wiped beads of cold sweat from his forehead. He muttered under his breath, "Good lord... that brat from the gate is the valedictorian? She's going to make my life a living hell in here."
The oath ended in a thunderous round of applause as Reika stepped down.
But in the next second, the atmosphere of the entire hall plummeted. It felt as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence.
A middle-aged man with the physique of a mountain stepped onto the podium. A military trench coat was draped casually over his shoulders, and an eye patch covered a scarred, sightless eye. Every footstep he planted onto the wooden floor radiated a terrifying killing intent—an invisible pressure that weighed heavily on the shoulders of every recruit present.
The MC standing by the microphone spoke with a voice trembling with reverence and fear:
"Next, we are honored to present the Commander of Base No. 2 — Colonel Kengo. He is a living legend, one of the rare few in human history to reach the pinnacle of power: A 10.0 Neural Sync Level!"
Colonel Kengo approached the lectern. He didn't need a microphone; he merely cleared his throat, yet his voice rolled out like thunder, vibrating in the eardrums of every listener:
"Welcome to hell, recruits."
Kengo's solitary eye swept across the ranks like a blade. "Here, glory is not for the weak. You will bleed on the training grounds. You will vomit, you will break bones, and you will cry... so that you do not have to bleed beneath the claws of the Kelyte-armored monsters out there!"
The sheer mental pressure radiating from Kengo caused several weaker recruits to gasp for air, their legs trembling uncontrollably.
Kengo took a step back, his aura softening slightly. He continued: "On that note, I wish to introduce the shining example of Base No. 2 for you all to aspire to. Lieutenant Kaito, step forward!"
From the wings, Kaito strode out to the center of the stage with resolute steps. The young man stood in a crisp officer's uniform, proudly wearing a silver "Crossed Swords" badge on his left chest—the symbol of a Titan Pilot. Kaito stood at attention, snapping a perfect military salute.
The entire hall immediately erupted into a low murmur of admiration for the young, valiant officer.
Colonel Kengo gestured with his chin, his voice booming with pride: "This is Lieutenant Kaito. One of the finest Titan Pilots the V.G.U. has ever produced. The man honored to pilot the God-Machine: Mecha RANGER!"
Instantly, the massive LED screen behind them flickered to life. An image of a steel-grey Mecha codenamed "Ranger" appeared. It stood tall, jagged, and bristling with heavy weaponry, as majestic as a god of war.
Arata stood in the ranks, his eyes wide with shock. His hands clenched into fists. His chest, housing that monstrous second heartbeat, throbbed violently—not out of bloodlust, but out of a massive, overwhelming pride for his foster brother. Kaito had truly achieved the impossible.
Late Night.
A velvet black curtain fell over Base No. 2. In the cramped Recruit Dormitories, rhythmic snoring began to fill the air. The other trainees had fallen into a deep slumber, completely exhausted by the day's psychological pressure and bureaucracy.
But Arata couldn't sleep. He lay on the top bunk, hands behind his head, his eyes wide and fixed on the cold concrete ceiling.
"How the hell... is Kaito a Titan Pilot?" Arata frowned.
Six years of studying Kaiju and GENESIS technology had taught him one thing clearly: synchronizing with a gargantuan Mecha like the Ranger required terrifying endurance. A human brain had to process billions of feedback signals from that massive metal frame. It required a pilot to possess a sync level bordering on the 10.0 limit, or accept that their nervous system would be shredded with every battle.
"How much physical pain did that boy endure... how insanely hard did he have to push himself to climb to that position?" Arata closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. But a moment later, a smile of relief and pride touched his mouth. At least the crybaby from the ruins was now strong enough to protect himself.
The camera slowly pulled back, leaving the small window of the recruit dorm and capturing the full panorama of the Base No. 2 fortress. High-powered searchlights cut cold streaks of light across the Kōtetsu sky. A rare moment of silence—a peaceful night beneath the shimmering stars, before the true storm arrived.