Zero-Nineteen sat in his mini-spa capsule. A very fancy sensory deprivation chamber. Oil infused water, scentless. A cool mist spray, scented with an AI-driven algorithm.

The world moved forward, but for 19, it was still for now. Despite the undying battlefield, he was still alive.

The world gently shifted. His body rotated. It was to wake him. The surrounding water drained away. For the first time, sound entered the chamber. Trickles of water sprayed out.

Rhythmic pulses of water ticked his back. The water intensified. They became hard, bone-breaking streams that smashed into his body. A regular man would have died.

19 relaxed as the hydro massage kneaded him from head to toe.

Then the world returned. The water drizzled away. Gravity reclaimed his body.

19 opened his eyes. The dark chamber now filled with soft lights. A hiss filled the room as the spherical capsule opened.

He walked out. Dozens of such capsules were here. The heated flooring was nice as he walked across the ramps to the locker rooms. He needed to dress.

The rest time was over. Today was another day on the undying lands.

Second Lieutenant Dan snickered as he saw the scrawnies eat. Though many of them were not in fact things, they were definitely pudgy.

There was a whole extra section in the mess hall for them. Tons of fatty, buttery food. Deep-fried everything. Did you want veggies, soaked in butter, and then had a crunchy breading? Veggie section. Double deep-fried chicken? Meat section. Butter dipped, double deep-fried oreo? Desert section.

What made him the most irritated was they couldn’t get any. They got the regulation food-stuff while they ate what looked amazing.

The hundreds of soldiers sat around, the air was full of a cacophony of talk, laughter, and jeers.

The scrawnies sat in a separate glass room. With air conditioning, music, and a fucking arcade system.

“Dan, you’re staring again.”

Dan blinked and looked over to see his best friend. Malissa smiled at him and he grunted back.

“You know, they got some in upgrades for the machines. I hear they got the whole new set of survival games. You know, chop down trees, make tools, fight unholy demons,” Malissa said with a soft yearning. She hadn’t played a proper game in some months now.

“I just want access to the arcade and theater,” Dan whined as he set his tray down. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Nothing but the best for the Unified Military Arm.

“Mini-Theater,” Malissa said and chuckled as his flat stare in return.

“Fine, ‘Mini-Theater’,” Dan quoted as he shoveled a spoonful of mash into his mouth.

“Well, you know we just arrived. A few days in and we already got a transfer tomorrow. Have your men ready by sunrise,” Malissa said around a mouthful of meatloaf.

Dan nodded. His gaze tracking a random scrawnie. The mother fucker had a plate of pancakes in one hand, and what looked like a steak in the other.

Fucking hell.

The transfer was simple enough. The thousands of vehicles moving through the well-protected northern front. It had the least amount of conflicts, as they had a massive fortress built into the side of two mountains.

The thing had enough artillery to withstand a siege from several armies. They were all well documented. Whatever the TuRT forces did, they never succeeded.

The airforce, however, was a newer part of this.

Dan looked up from his place on the APC.

From the snippets he heard, UMA was moving whole armies up to the northern fortress, Fort Hua.

This wasn’t some simple transfer, though. He felt goosebumps.

They had been fighting on the southern continent of Reluse. There it was, simple military to military operations.

Here in on the central Continent of Raleigh? It included psychic nonsense. As if it was that important. A platoon could kill anyone with psychic powers.

“We have a spike psycho-nits. All units, prepare for a scuffle,” the cool and collected voice spoke across the command channels.

Captain Youtiao was a veteran soldier. He was no recruit on these battlefields.

Dan watched as the horizon shimmered. Then came the artillery.

The explosions rocked the formations. A massive volley of modern shatter shells struck them. Things blew up. Metal, men, and earth flew into the air.

Dan winced as a drill-bit shrapnel piece broke on his shoulder plate. Thank the lords he had command armor.

Dan stepped down and closed the top hatch.

“Status?” Dan asked as he held onto the ceiling’s support bars.

“We lost Wuffle and Waffles. Nothing else major,” Apone replied. “All mechanized soldiers a deploying as we speak.”

Dan grit his teeth. Two of his APCs were already down. Hopefully, there would be survivors. 20 soldiers down. Just like that.

Though these losses would count as nothing compared to this encounter.

The booms and shrieks of return fire followed. Tiny pips of smaller guns followed suit. The power armor infantry jogging at a 150km/h was already moving with the much faster tanks.

The two lines would meet in some 30 seconds.

“We got fresh problems!” Apone yelled out. The Master Sargent sent an invitation to Dan to see what he was seeing.

Dan linked in. The new enemies had taken no damage as a bubble formed over the invading forces. A massive, translucent titan was gliding in front of the enemies.

“Is that a psychic?” he asked as the system zoomed into the center of the titan. There an old man floated. He had an emaciated body. Only skin and bones. Though the blood-red eyes were glowing.

“News to me. I mean, I heard the rumors, and seen the vids… this is fucked up,” Apone artfully replied as the Titan strode forward.

The translucent form seemed immune from all weapons.

“Launch the emergency missile,” Captain Youtiao’s voice said. It was an odd broadcast… but it was probably on purpose. Either a feint or the man had already launched said missile.

A seismic boom rocked the APC as the non-nuclear missile ignited the giant. The enemy forces finally took damage.

The battlefield lost its images as the EMP static overtook all systems.

Dan made his way up to the side of the hatch. He popped the mini para-scope and looked out.

A blood-red streak passed his vision.

What the hell was that?

His para-scope showed the vehicles to his left. An APC smashed into their tail as it slipped out of control. The brigade’s left side was all affected. They had suddenly all lost control.

All the vehicles on the left were running out of control. The APC systems quickly calculated some 800 vehicles affected.

All around them was a new explosion as the air force’s finest dropped from the skies.

The combined losses were probably an entire platoon. Two hits and they were twenty percent down. The static interfered with proper life scanning, but Dan felt his stomach drop. They fucked up. They didn’t heed the proper notices and left without a psychic escort.

He climbed the hatch and popped it open again. The left side was clear of allied forces and he bit his lip hard enough to break the skin.

The Titan was now closer. Its massive scythe in hand. It was swinging again.

“Turn this APC right, right now!” Dan screamed. It was probably too late, but never let it be said that he, Dan Tiger, froze when the chips were down.

The APC moved, but it was too slow. The scythe’s blade must have been a kilometer tall. Hell, the Red Titan was tens of kilometers tall.

Dan closed his eyes, muttered a prayer, and opened them. He would face this with grim determination.

The scythe hit.

The world changed to a static purple and red. Streaks of lightning popped across what was a massive dome. A dome that moved with them.

Dan saw it then. Another Titan. A purple-tinged monster that stood before them.

This titan took two steps forward and punched the other one in the face. Space seemed to shatter as Dan watched the old man slam into the ground.

Purple Titan raised its left hand. Black sticks formed. Wait. No. Spears?

Dan watched as a hundred black, ragged spears of energy slammed into the old man. There was an unholy, inhuman scream and the red titan faded.

The Purple raised his right hand. In it was a tiny, tiny human. The old man.

The Purple rubbed his fingers and looked down.

All around it was TuRT forces. Most were turning to flee.

The Purple lifted his left hand. All enemy vehicles and their infantry lifted.

The Purple clenched his left hand into a fist.

It compacted everything into a tiny, kilometer-wide ball.

The Purple dropped it and faded. Dan felt his stomach turn at the effortless show of power. The simple, life reaping powers of psychics.

The boom that the ball made was loud. A sound that rocked his soldier’s mentality.

The taps of feet on metal caught Dan’s attention. He looked up into the purple eyes of a chubby young man.

A man he had sneered at during lunch.

“Who is your commanding officer?” A voice rang into his mind.

“Captain Youtiao,” Dan replied. What was he going to do? Not answer the military superweapon?

“Get him, or the next officer up here. I want to know why you didn’t have psychic support for this,” the young man ordered as he waved towards their military convoy.

Dan nodded and began talking to his speaker.

Two pops and four extra feet appeared on the APC. The now 200km/h moving vehicle.

The twins were young, and Dan definitely had to swallow his bile. They reminded him of his eldest daughter, Sarah.

Dan’s focus shifted as he got a reply. Captain Youtiao was in the massive psychic reaping. Malissa, the first lieutenant, was now the highest-ranking officer here.

She was also now moving her APC over to talk to the psychic man.

“Awwww, is it over?” “Did we not get to play?” the twins, 15 & 16, chorused as they stared at their big brother. They used their puppy dog eyes to get an answer.

19 stared down at the two pouting faces. He snorted in amusement.

“It was just a life-reaper type. I didn’t even sweat breaking him,” he grumbled as he watched the landscape whip by. The teleport here took more effort.

“Then it was right to finish dessert.” “Peach-Mango is super yummy!” the girls said as they looked at each other. They broke down giggling.

The two floated up to 19’s shoulder and settled down. Their golden hair streaming comfortably in the high winds. They rarely got to just experience mundane movements.

They also hugged 19. The military frowned upon excessive contact. Boding between psychics could boost power, but the death of one was equally crippling.

“Let's grab second lunch at the fort,” 19 said as he stretched and yawned.

Today was a boring day. Nothing really happened, and now he was babysitting.

Luckily Fort Hua had some good meat patterns for a rich filet mignon and tartar.