Queen Emica didn't believe in waiting for recovery. She arrived the same evening Hana was pulled from the wreckage, storming the medical wing with a detail of armored guards. She hadn't even changed. Her white-gold chest plate was visibly scorched, and the left arm guard had a spiderweb of cracks. There was a faint line of dried blood, half-wiped away, tracing her jawline. She looked less like a Queen and more like a warrior who had just stepped off a brutal battlefield.
"Vitals stable," the chief Earth doctor murmured quietly, adjusting a screen near Hana's head. "She's quiet, Your Majesty. Probably shock. The trauma was immense."
Emica didn't spare the doctor a glance. "She's not in shock," the Queen replied, her voice low and sharp, cutting through the sterile silence of the bay. "She's thinking. Thinking about vengeance."
Hana lay perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. She didn't blink, didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge the pain throbbing from her temple.
Emica dismissed her personal guards with a crisp gesture. "Step Outside. And no interruptions."
Alone, the Queen stepped closer to the bed. Hana was bandaged, pale, and small against the white sheets, but her eyes—those unusual, searing magenta eyes—were wide open and alert.
"I am Emica of Terra Nexis. High Queen of Earth," Emica stated, her tone strictly factual. "This is Ourea Primis, the capital of the Unified Continent. You are under my jurisdiction now."
Hana finally turned her head slowly on the pillow. The movement sent a spike of pain through her neck, but she ignored it.
"Why didn't you leave me to die?" Hana asked, her voice raspy from disuse. "My pod was a wreck. It would have saved you resources."
"Because my orbital defense systems lit up like hellfire when your pod breached our atmosphere," Emica replied, folding her arms. "And because your body is marked with Sovereign-layer neural code."
That single phrase finally got Hana's attention. She pushed herself up slightly, wincing as her ribs protested.
"Sovereign code is only found in people from other planets," the Queen continued, her eyes narrowed in clinical interest. "Royalty, people born into extreme pressure, planetary leaders. The kind of genetic mark the Sovereign Protocol likes to... connect with."
"The what?" Hana repeated, pushing the word out.
Emica gave a short, almost imperceptible tilt of her head. "You don't know? Even Venusian Royals must have known about the Protocol's reach."
Hana only shook her head. Her father had kept her locked in history texts and art classes, far away from true warfare.
The Queen walked to the monitor beside the bed and tapped a few commands. A low, soft sound resonated in the room, and the seamless wall behind her shimmered, transforming into a large, floating holographic screen. The screen showed a complex, spinning symbol—a circular, digital matrix pulsing with silver light. In its center floated a stark phrase:
[SOVEREIGN PROTOCOL: TERRA NEXIS AUTHORITY]
"Every single warrior on Earth," Emica explained, gesturing to the graphic, "trains and fights under the Protocol. It is a hyper-advanced system built into our planet's governing AI. It tracks growth. It assigns stats. It monitors kills. Most importantly, it activates defensive evolution."
Hana stared at the symbol. It looked too sleek, too perfect to be anything but a trap. "Like a video game," she muttered, the comparison coming from the few historical entertainment files she'd seen.
Emica actually allowed a faint, icy smirk to cross her lips. "Like a survival game you don't get to quit. This is the only way to meet the threats waiting for us in the solar system."
The Queen flicked her wrist across the display, and the hologram changed again, showing five main stat lines in sharp white text.
[Active Combatant Profile - Template]
STR (Strength): Physical power, melee impact.AGI (Agility): Speed, reaction time, dodge potential.INT (Intelligence): Tech handling, cyber tactics, hack proficiency.WIL (Willpower): Resistance to psionic attack, pain, and fear.VIT (Vitality): Health pool, stamina, endurance.
"Everyone gets scanned," Emica continued, speaking with the authority of someone who lives by these rules. "Everyone gets leveled up through combat and training. The Protocol adapts as you get stronger. At Level 10, you get your first evolution. New skills. A real Class."
"Class?"
"Combat specialization. There are six base types." She tapped the screen again, and a diagram spun into view, showing six icons arranged in a hexagram.
[Base Combat Classes]
Wanderer – Balanced scout, good at many things.Striker – Fast melee specialist, high AGI/STR focus.Caster – Tech-user and plasma channeler, high INT focus.Vanguard – Heavy frontline tank, high VIT/STR focus.Supporter – Tactical healer and helper, low direct damage.Controller – Field manipulator; gravity, illusions, traps, high INT/WIL focus.
"You're not registered right now," Emica said, letting the charts hang in the air. "The system hasn't recognized you yet because you're not an Earth native. But we've run silent scans from your neural code. Your SYNC Ratio is unusually high for someone without any formal training."
"SYNC...?"
"Compatibility. With our core technology. With the Protocol. With everything that matters to Earth's defense. Your ability to instantly channel external power sources is exceptional. It's what allowed you to survive."
Emica took a final step forward, dominating the space beside the bed. "Yours is at fifty-one percent. That's almost ready for combat. Most people your age are still struggling around twelve percent. You're a prodigy, Hana. A weapon waiting to be shaped."
Hana stared at the floating charts, not at the Queen. The stats, the levels, the classes—it all translated into raw, measurable power. That was the language Kata understood.
"You want to train me," Hana stated, her voice flat.
"I want to give you a choice," Emica corrected, a rare instance of soft diplomacy. "I am not your sister. I don't force children into certain families or specific roles. You can stay in this medical bay, receive care, and live a quiet, civilian life. Or... you can start leveling up."
The room became utterly quiet again, the only sound the faint, technological hum of the Protocol display.
Hana's voice, when it came, was cold, thoughtful, and fueled by a single, powerful motivation.
"If I use your system... do I get stronger? Exponentially stronger than the people I left behind?"
"Yes," Emica confirmed, without hesitation. "Faster than any civilian path, guaranteed."
Hana looked up, her magenta eyes finally meeting Emica's, holding the raw, ten-year-old fury of the throne room massacre.
"Strong enough to kill a queen?"
Emica didn't flinch. She simply held the gaze of the exiled princess. "Given time, commitment, and enough levels—absolutely."
Hana nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement. "Then give me the chip. I accept the Protocol."
She was given a small Sync Implant the next morning. The process was invasive and grueling, taking four hours of silent, focused medical intervention. Nano-neural roots were connected directly to her spine. Data lines were woven into her optical nerves, linked directly to her retina. Her bloodstream was flooded with tiny nanobots that pulsed with her erratic heartbeat, ready to facilitate the constant, data-driven link to the planetary AI.
When she woke, the first thing she saw wasn't the sterile ceiling, but a clean, silver overlay burned into her vision:
[PROTOCOL SYNC ESTABLISHED]
User: HANA JIN // Origin: VenusInitial Class Assigned: WANDERER (Lv. 1)Current SYNC RATIO: 51%Objective: Combat Training and Skill Acquisition.
She sat up. Her mouth was dry. Her body ached, but the pain was distant, already being categorized by the Protocol. For the first time since she left Venus, she didn't feel broken. She felt alive, with a clear path forward.
Six Years Later
Six years passed in a blur of focused aggression and leveling. Ourea Primis evolved around her as Hana trained. Towers grew into impossible heights. Cyber-rail tracks twisted across the mountain peaks. Elite Military zones expanded, but Hana didn't notice the world outside her training grid.
She lived in the simulator, going through silent drills, solo missions, and unofficial, brutal sparring matches. Her stats soared, fueled by her single-minded focus. She hit Level 30 during a solo deep-space interception exercise, and the resulting evolution was explosive and decisive.
[CLASS EVOLUTION DETECTED]
Initial Class: Wanderer (Lv. 30)New Designation: VOID SABRESSSubclass Tree: Striker / Controller Hybrid (Specializing in teleportation and energy manipulation.)
Her skills expanded to match her rage.
Void Carve (Active Skill): A phase-locked blade strike that ignores certain physical defenses and deals delayed kinetic damage.Blink-Step (Movement Skill): A short-range warp dash, allowing her to instantly appear behind targets, consuming high AGI/STR.Silence Protocol (Controller Skill): Mutes all sound within a ten-meter radius for five seconds; perfect for ambush and psychological warfare.
She had no need to show off her progress. No desire for fame, wealth, or rank. Just one consuming, driving goal: to grow strong enough to return to Venus and bury her sister beneath the ruins she had left behind.
Now sixteen, Hana stood at the edge of the Elite terrace, overlooking the rugged mountain ledges of Ourea. She wore the sharp black-and-violet uniform of the Earth Elite. Her Void Sabress badge rested against her hip like a sheathed blade waiting to be drawn.
Emica approached from behind, her footsteps perfectly measured.
"Void Sabress now, is it?"
"System's choice," Hana said, not turning around.
"Fitted for you. The Protocol recognized your ability to weaponize hatred."
"Not really. I prefer killing quietly. The Void Sabress is too flashy," Hana replied, the coldness of her voice mirroring Emica's own.
The Queen actually smirked, a genuine flash of approval. "You'll meet your squad tomorrow. They're loud, messy, and disorganized. Chinami, Kotaro, and Itsuki. Don't kill them too fast."
"No promises. If they slow down my leveling, they're dead weight."
Emica held out a data pad. It displayed three files, along with the title 'Project Chimera: Squad 7'.
"You will be operating with these three, and one additional new recruit, Chi. You will need to learn teamwork, Hana. You are only Level 30. Your sister is likely far beyond that."
Hana finally turned, her magenta eyes flashing. The subtle reference to Kata was the only thing that could ever truly hook her attention.
"They're a means to an end, then," Hana stated.
"They are the tool you need to get the experience required," Emica corrected. "Now try to play nice. You're an Elite, not a wild dog."
Hana took the data pad, the cold metal grounding her. She looked out at the city, burning orange under the dying sunset.
"I don't play, Your Majesty."