"Where… is this?"
Qin Tian's vision slowly sharpened. He blinked, confusion tightening his chest as he took in his surroundings.
Cold steel walls reflected a dim, sterile light. Rows of people in identical black uniforms stood in perfect formation, unmoving—silent as statues, devoid of life.
Wasn't I at home… playing games?
How did I end up here?
His lips parted, but before he could speak, something stirred deep within his mind.
A memory—alien yet undeniable—surfaced.
Alpha-7 Star. Third-generation battlefield clone. Serial number: 89757.
Mission: absolute loyalty to the Empire. Obey orders. Take up arms. Destroy all enemies.
The information slipped into his consciousness like a drop of water into an ocean—absorbed without resistance, leaving no trace of disturbance.
Clones. Empire. War.
Qin Tian lowered his gaze. A cold dread crept into his bones.
I… transmigrated?
And this identity… isn't this just cannon fodder?
Click. Clack.
The sharp sound of boots striking metal shattered the silence.
"New recruits—welcome to this brutal world."
A towering officer stood before them. His voice was deep and resonant, carrying effortlessly across the formation without any amplification.
"You are weapons forged by the Empire. Born for loyalty. Destined for sacrifice."
"From this moment forward, you will fight—for the Empire, for its people. You will carve its glory with your blood… and your lives."
He raised his voice, thunderous and absolute:
"Long live the Empire!"
Something invisible snapped.
In an instant, the clones' lifeless eyes ignited with feverish devotion. Their voices rose as one, deafening, fanatic.
"Long live the Empire!"
Qin Tian's heart pounded violently.
That wasn't normal.
That wasn't free will.
The command tower loomed at the center of the camp—a monolith of steel piercing the sky. Lights flickered across its surface, relaying endless streams of data to warships and defensive grids.
Below, vast corridors stretched outward. Heavy metal plating covered the ground, scarred by the constant passage of tracked vehicles and towering mechs.
Under the officer's command, thousands of clones moved out in unison, a black tide sweeping through the base.
Voices drifted from a distance.
"The third batch? Numbers are dropping."
"Resources are strained. Even cannon fodder isn't easy to produce anymore."
"If this keeps up, retreat might be inevitable."
"So many dead… and we may still lose territory to those beasts…"
Qin Tian listened in silence.
This body… it wasn't normal.
His vision could pick out pebbles dozens of meters away. His hearing captured whispers carried on the wind. Strength pulsed through his limbs—raw, controlled, deadly.
In his old life, he would've been extraordinary.
Here?
He was disposable.
"Hah, Raymond—you came just in time."
A man in a silver uniform leapt down from a transport vehicle, landing lightly despite the five-meter drop.
"I need hands. The bodies need moving."
"Understood," the officer replied without hesitation.
Training meant nothing compared to the dead.
The transport convoy rolled to a halt before a massive structure.
"Unload everything."
Mechanical arms extended with a metallic hiss, retrieving bodies from within and placing them onto the ground.
The clones stepped forward.
One by one, they lifted the dead.
When it was Qin Tian's turn, he hesitated for a fraction of a second.
The corpse he received was only half a body. Torn flesh. Dark, coagulated blood. The smell hit him like a blow.
His stomach twisted.
But he didn't stop.
Like the others, he moved.
One body.
Then another.
And another.
Something inside him dulled.
The horror faded. The revulsion weakened.
By the time he lifted a corpse with exposed organs, he felt… nothing.
Qin Tian frowned slightly.
Is this… the clone's instinct?
He crouched down for the next body.
Then—
A faint glow.
A green sphere of light rose from the corpse.
For a moment, he thought it was a hallucination.
Then it shot toward him.
Snap.
It sank into his chest.
His body froze.
Two seconds passed.
Then he stood up again, expression blank, as if nothing had happened.
But lines of text floated clearly before his eyes:
[Name] Absolute Gunmastery (Green)[Type] Passive Talent[Description] An innate mastery of firearms. The holder can calculate trajectories and environmental variables instinctively, ensuring precise and lethal accuracy.
Qin Tian lowered his head, hiding the sudden spark in his eyes.
A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his lips.
A cheat ability…
Of course.
How could a transmigrator be ordinary?
Moments ago, he had seen no future—just a battlefield where he would die nameless.
Now?
This place… might become his hunting ground.
He moved faster, depositing the corpse and returning for another.
This time, the body wore a silver combat suit. No visible injuries—but the moment Qin Tian lifted it, he felt it.
The bones inside were shattered.
A faint cracking echoed with every movement.
And then—
Two lights emerged.
One green.
One white.
They rushed into him.
[Name] Danger Perception (Green)[Type] Passive Talent[Description] A heightened instinct for survival. The user can sense imminent threats with uncanny precision.
[Name] Lesser Blade Sense (White)[Type] Passive Talent[Description] Basic mastery over bladed weapons. Movements become smoother, strikes more accurate.
Qin Tian exhaled slowly.
In this world of death…
The dead were leaving behind power.
And he—
Would take it all.