"To seek power is a human desire; to receive it is a human curse. Those who attain it soon learn it's a gift few would ever truly wish for."

- The author, who thought adding a quote here would make them sound wise and deep (but really just wants to look cool).

----

"WAKE UP, CADET! NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE TAKING A NAP."

The shout ripped through Talon's dazed mind.

'Urgh.. my head'

Groaning, he blinked against the blurry light overhead, feeling the hard mat beneath him. For a moment, he didn't know where he was.

'Right... the challenge... Rylen.'

Pain surged through his skull as he tried to sit up, the memory of Rylen's question mark kick flashing in his mind. He could feel the throbbing on his forehead as blood pounded against his temples.

"Are you able to continue?! That's two to zero!" The combat instructor's voice was sharp, filled with frustration. The others in the room were silent, all eyes on him. Some watched with curiosity, others with pity.

Talon gritted his teeth, his fists clenching tightly as he forced himself upright. The dizziness didn't help, his vision spinning. He could hear the faint whispering among the other cadets, though none of them dared to speak too loudly, so he could not make it out.

"Don't take it personally, Talon." The grating voice made talon's head turn. There stood Rylen, his opponent, with that ever-present, annoying, arrogant smirk on his face.

"Just forfeit," Rylen added, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're no match for me."

"Sigh." Talon ignored him, lifting his arms again. His entire body ached, but giving up wasn't an option. Not now. He needed this win. He needed to stay up in the rankings. Dropping down would mean his goal would slip even further away.

He could not help but imagine the disappointment of his family, especially his father.

Just the thought of it, and the inevitable lecture from his oh-so-amazing family, was enough to reignite the fire in him and shove him back into the fight.

"Come on, easy. I used to slam this guy," Talon muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

He was going to do it. He was going to win. Victory was practically screaming his name!

Brimming with confidence, he took his first step forward, eyes locked on Rylen as a master plan began forming in his mind.

'...eh?'

His vision blurred for but a split second, the kick from earlier had rattled Talon's brain a little too much.

Before he could even process what was happening, his legs betrayed him, buckling like a cheap folding chair under too much weight. The world tilted in the most undramatic way possible as he dropped to his knees with all the grace of a collapsing tower of cards.

So much for legendary.

He tried to push himself up, realizing his mistake, but it was already too late.

Another kick was coming, this one aimed right between the eyes.

It was going hit, it was going to be brutal.

"Stop."

Talon hadn't even blinked before the instructor effortlessly appeared between them, one hand wrapped around Rylen's foot, stopping it mere inches from his face. Instructor Barkley's sharp gaze bore into Talon.

Talon knew what the instructor wanted to hear. Knew he had to say it.

He stayed silent for a moment, unwilling to give in... But his body had already betrayed him, he couldn't keep up with his will.

He had lost.

"… I forfeit. Permission to go to the medical bay, Instructor," he muttered through clenched teeth. The pain in his head throbbed, his body screaming at him to stop. He could already feel the swelling on his face where Rylen's earlier kick had connected.

Instructor Barkley sighed, letting go of Rylen's foot. The smirk on his opponents face widened as he stood victorious.

Crossing his arms, Barkley shook his head. "The Xa'tarii won't be half as nice as me. In the real world, that kick would've been the end. Permission granted."

Talon knew he was right.

The Xa'tarii, an alien race bred for war, had been humanity's nemesis for centuries, locked in an endless, deadly conflict. 

Humans were used to overwhelming other alien species, either accepting them as "vassals" (graciously and without bloodshed, of course) or eradicating them down to the last child with their superior Supers, massive fleets, and seemingly unstoppable armies.

But the Xa'tarii? They weren't like the others. When humanity encountered a race that could not only match their Supers in raw strength but also rival their fleets and armies in sheer tactical brilliance, it sent shockwaves through the galactic empires.

And now? A couple hundred years later?

Humanity was losing.

The Xa'tarii were winning.

The instructor turned back to the crowd of students. "Cadet Rylen takes Cadet Talon's spot in the rankings."

A roar of excitement erupted from the gathered students. The ranking system was brutal, losing a challenge meant a harsh drop in rank. For someone like Rylen, though, today was a victory. A big one.

The rewards of rising in the rankings were sweet, they are what decides your whole future afterall.

Talon, however, felt the sting of his situation. Every subject had its own global ranking for each year, and in nearly all of them, he was slipping lower and lower.

The dream of enrolling in officer training or qualifying for an elite position within the Solaris Concord seemed to drift further out of reach with each passing day.

He could settle for a lesser position, but that meant one thing: facing his family.

And he really, really wanted to get away from them.

Then again… if he could just awaken, none of this would matter. Not the rankings, not the lectures, and not even his family.

Awakening would change everything.

The instructor's voice cut through his thoughts. "Droid, take Cadet Graves to the medbay."

Talon barely noticed as a med-assist droid hovered forward.

"Acknowledged," the droid said in a smooth, neutral tone as its mechanical arms gently but firmly guided him toward the exit.

The walk through the quiet halls was accompanied by the faint whirring of the droid's servos. Talon's head throbbed, but the droid's efficiency left no room for argument, or escape. Its programming ensured he wouldn't be wandering off, even if he wanted to.

"Status: minor concussions detected. Bruising consistent with blunt force trauma. Initiating accelerated treatment protocols," the droid droned, its monotone delivery oddly comforting in its predictability.

Talon muttered under his breath, "Yeah, thanks buddy."

As they reached the medbay, the droid maneuvered him toward a healing pod. The pod's hatch slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a pool of viscous, green liquid.

Without ceremony, the droid gestured for him to step inside.

"Please enter the pod. Estimated recovery time: 15 minutes."

Talon sighed and complied, sinking into the liquid. It enveloped him in a soothing warmth, easing the throbbing in his head and the aches in his body. The hum of the pod's systems filled the room as it began its work, but Talon's mind refused to settle.

---

After a quick recovery session, Talon was released from the healing pod. The medical droid scanned him, flashing a green light as it confirmed his condition was stable.

"You are cleared to return to the training grounds," the droid's voice sounded.

"Thanks," Talon thanked the droid again, a habit he kept, even though most saw no point in showing kindness to the machines.

He often joked to himself that it might save him in the event of a droid uprising, that he might be in their good graces, and live a life of luxury as the "human ambassador."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he headed back to the academy grounds.

As he walked back, he caught sight of his friends, Jason and Alice, waiting near the training yard. Jason, as always, was the first to break the silence, clapping Talon on the back. "Heard you had a rough one, man. You all right?"

Talon forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... you know, the usual."

Alice crossed her arms, giving him a knowing look. "You've been off lately, Talon. More than usual. You can talk to us you know… Is it your family again?"

Alice always worried, she cared deeply for both Talon and Jason. Her difficult home life had shaped her into someone who instinctively looked out for her two best friends.

He shrugged, trying to deflect. "It's just... the exams, the ceremony, the rankings. It's a lot to handle, I'm fine though."

Jason grinned, nudging him playfully. "Relax, man. We're all feeling it. Pre-exam panic is universal, especially if the outcome decides if you have superpowers or not. You'll pull through like you always do."

Talon glanced between them, Jason's easy grin and Alice's steady determination. They had their own struggles, but they still believed in him.

He appreciated that more than he'd admit aloud.

There was another fight going on, but he did not really care for the outcome, both being low ranked so it would not affect him.

Pulling out his holopad, he scrolled to the leaderboard and grimaced at his new rank:

Talon Graves - Martial Capability:

67th - Class 2A,

8765th - Acadamy 1313

98765th - Globally

He sighed.

They all trained relentlessly for their future on Planet Acadamus, one of the Solaris Concord's many training worlds. Whether they were aiming for glory in the war, or simply seeking to avoid its frontlines, their rankings dictated their paths.

High in the ranks offered the luxury of choice for your five years of mandatory service, low ranks meant being thrust wherever the Concord needed them most.

'Doesn't matter,' Talon thought, pocketing the holopad. 'Tomorrow might change everything, if I do manage to awaken, all of this will barely matter anymore.'

The rest of the class passed in comfortable silence as they watched a few more sparring matches, cheering for those who claimed victory, and consoling those who lost.

After all, they were all human.

And humans stood united.