A screeching sound echoes through the lower levels of this place, a noise that doesn’t stop and grows louder with each floor I descend in the elevator. It’s the sound of machines being developed, waiting for their future masters.

My name is Noah Levon. I’m a rookie trained at the Geelong Neuro-Dock Academy—not the most advanced or well-known academy by any means, but it’s given me the knowledge I need about these machines.

Neuro-docks are what we rookies call the suits we wear. We also refer to them as “Sigmas,” which stands for something like “sum of all” or “total sum.” Sigmas are suits that operate through a neural connection between the user and the machine. I’ll get into the details of how they work later because, well… this is my first time actually using one.

At the academy, training was done through advanced virtual reality simulators. You’d enter a simulation room, get assigned a suit you could customize, and through the suit’s lenses, you had to endure at least four hours of the toughest challenges possible. Of course, we also underwent rigorous physical training to strengthen our bodies and combat skills. The rule was that we had to withstand 9G forces—make it so those forces wouldn’t even faze us. They pushed us to our limits in every way imaginable.

Why do we do all this? Well, that’s because…

As we reached the underground level, a massive gate greeted me and the five engineers accompanying me. The engineer with wavy hair stepped forward and placed his hand on the fingerprint scanner.

The gates opened, granting us passage into this subterranean world. We moved through the entrance, heading down a long corridor lined with polished titanium walls. Hexagonal white lights illuminated our path as we made our way toward the control room.

It’s eerie. I mean, I know this place is cutting-edge and costs millions, but still… I can’t help but think a zombie horror movie with creatures sprinting through these halls would be a hit.

George leads the way, guiding us to our destination. Oh, I should mention that the other four engineers are also freshly graduated rookies. This is all new to us.

“Once we reach the control room, I’ll take the cadet engineers to the administration wing for the newcomers’ induction ceremony,” George finally spoke, giving us our instructions. “As for the Neuro-Alpha, you’ll be received by the squadron captain, Francis Jardine.” From what I understand, only engineers and the like get a ceremonial welcome. Soldiers like me don’t have time for that.

“Yes, sir!” we all responded. In no time, we arrived at the control room—a massive space filled with what seemed like hundreds of people, maybe more.

A tall, bearded man with black hair approached us, dressed in a black military uniform adorned with cobalt blue embroidery running from the collar to the base of his abdomen. His honey-colored eyes locked onto me briefly before shifting to George.

“Class A Engineer, George Navell. It’s a pleasure to receive you,” the man said, bowing slightly in a gesture of respect.

“The pleasure is mine, Captain Francis,” George replied, returning the bow with a smile. I feel out of place standing between two titans of their fields. It’s awkward.

Francis exudes an aura of absolute leadership, a commanding presence with an insatiable power, yet his demeanor is strangely comforting. He’s probably one of those people whose mere presence on the battlefield calms even the most skeptical.

Jardine’s gaze shifts back to me as I’m lost in thought. He looks me up and down, nodding to himself.

“You must be one of the Neuro-Alphas joining today. I understand you’re from Geelong, so your training is likely behind the average, correct?” His tone is analytical, almost probing, as if he’s looking for a crack in my armor.

“That’s correct, sir. I’m from the Geelong Neural Academy. I’m aware of my position and place here.” He’s not wrong. The GNA isn’t exactly a top-tier academy. Its tech is limited compared to others, but I’ve learned what I need, and that’s not something mere prestige can replace.

“I see. That’s good. If you’ll excuse us, George, I’ll take the cadet to join the other rookies.” George smiled and nodded. “Likewise, Francis. See you later.”

They shook hands and parted ways. I followed Francis, staying close behind.

“As you can see, the infrastructure here is shaped like an X to organize the work areas efficiently,” Francis said, glancing at me as he walked with his hands clasped behind his back. “I see… but does everyone here do the same thing?”

I doubt an organization like this would be designed just for aesthetics. That would be an absurd waste of budget.

“No. Each area has a different function. For example, the west zone monitors facility security, the east zone oversees the health of the suits, the north zone monitors the soldiers, and the south zone handles general infrastructure. But in the end, we’re all part of the whole.”

Simple enough. No rocket science required.

We soon reached the northwest entrance, a gate separating the Neuro-Dock area from the control room. Beyond that door are people heading toward possible death. For us Neuro-Alphas, our sole purpose is to die beautifully.

Francis placed his hand on the scanner, and a beep signaled approval.

The gate opened, and Francis stepped into a dark corridor lit by golden floor lights. I followed, noting his resolute demeanor as he led me to my new home.

“The Neuro-Alpha Coliseum is the concentration area for neuro-hosts. Your suit will also be assigned here.” As we walked, I felt an overwhelming pressure, like beasts waiting to devour me outside.

And then… we reached the Coliseum.

Hundreds of soldiers stood in formation, rigid and attentive, arranged in a massive circuit glowing with blue light, the floor shimmering with a golden hue. I’ll admit, a tear welled up—not from emotion, but from imagining the electricity bill for this place.

“Cadet, take your position with the other rookies,” Francis instructed, heading toward a platform in front of the soldiers.

I complied, spotting an empty space in the lower right corner of the formation. I walked over, stood firm, and prepared to listen.

I’m not nervous. I’ve trained for years for this. It’d be a waste of time—if not sweat—to even consider something going wrong. I just need to follow orders, and the beauty will come from a job well done.

Francis scanned the room, sighed, and took the microphone. “Welcome, cadets, to the Neuro-Link facilities. You’ve all trained with dedication and effort for this moment, to become the moonlight for humanity.”

Moonlight? Why that specifically? Why not… candlelight? What am I even thinking? Focus, or I’ll miss something important.

“Cadets, you are the light that will guide people through the deepest darkness—a light that doesn’t flicker, even if touched, a light that remains pure and steadfast.” I get it now. Even if our light goes out, what we do is irreversible. Right?

“As you know, 45 years ago, while researching at the old Cinvestav facilities in Mexico, a community of humanoid creatures was discovered beneath the surface. They matched our intelligence, our reasoning, and even our appearance. However, these creatures could adapt to adversity and develop unimaginable physical abilities. They’re known as ‘Nagaris.’ From my studies, these creatures automatically enhance their physical abilities based on the level of danger they face. For example, if you stab a Nagari with a knife, it might get hurt the first time, but a second attempt would be ineffective.

“To counter their monstrous abilities, we developed the SIGMA suits. These suits will be your most loyal companions. You’ll wear them down, and they’ll wear you down. From now on, you no longer exist as individuals. Forget your real names. You’ll be known only by the codes assigned once you link with your suits.”

There it is—the famous SIGMA suit process, the neural connection, or “link.”

“For suit assignments, proceed to your designated neuro-dock number. If your number is 10, go to compartment 10, and so on. To reach the assignment area, head through the right entrance and go straight until you reach the doors labeled 1-2-3-4-5. Those with numbers starting with 1 go to door 1, 2 to door 2, and so forth.” My number is 404, so I’m heading to door 4.

“Without further ado, proceed to your suits. Welcome, everyone.” The speech ended, and everyone clapped before moving toward the entrance in an orderly line, like penguins.

It’s ironic. We’re heading to get robotic suits, yet we’re the ones moving like robots.

“Psst… hey,” someone called from behind. I turned and saw a brown-haired guy with wavy hair and freckles, his brown eyes fixed on me.

“Can I help you?” This guy totally killed my soldier vibe.

“I’m Darren, Darren Brawn… Hey, my number’s 9. Which door do I go to?” Is he dense? His number isn’t 1 through 5, but it’s a single digit, so logically, it’s door 1.

“You go to door 1 since your number is single-digit,” I muttered, not wanting anyone to overhear me explaining something so obvious.

“Oh, right, haha. Sorry, I’m pretty scatterbrained. By the way, what’s your number?” He flashed a goofy grin. I don’t know what his deal is, but getting attached here isn’t smart. Of the 500 of us, probably half won’t survive.

“404. I’m number 404,” I said sternly, trying to sound intimidating, like we’re in some prison movie.

“Oooh… Hey, have you ever seen a Nagari in person? They say their skin is gray, their sclera is black, but their irises are golden and snake-like~” Obviously, I haven’t. I wouldn’t be alive if I had.

“No, I’ve never seen one.” I didn’t even glance at him, though I didn’t need to since I’d reached door 4.

“Hey, your name… you didn’t tell me,” Darren said, still grinning like an idiot, blocking the people behind him.

“Noah Levon,” I replied curtly, heading into my entrance. “Noah… cool. Talk later, Noah!” He waved goodbye, but I just walked in.

Inside, the compartments were arranged numerically. I headed to the 400s and soon found compartment 404—a sleek, vertical assembly capsule made of polished white metal with a glass panel waiting to slide down.

The system’s voice gave me instructions, so I stepped inside and got comfortable.

A basket appeared, and I carefully stripped, avoiding hitting my head. After placing my clothes in the basket, the machine whisked it away to who-knows-where.

Needles? Are they serious? But before I could process, six cables with needles emerged. Two pierced each forearm, one went into my chest, two into each calf, and the last… in my anus.

Thank goodness, because I’m not exactly presentable right now.

Heh, that’s right. I’m in top shape, thanks to years at the academy.

Clear my mind? How? Fine, I’ll try.

A sound I can’t quite describe began, and my thoughts became incoherent.

A blue screen appeared on the capsule’s glass. A name, huh? I wasn’t expecting this.

Hmm… I once read about an ancient Greek emperor who conquered Greece and parts of India. A dominant, imposing figure…

His name was…

You’ll be called Magno.

The screen vanished, and I felt a nano-fabric forming a compression suit that covered my neck. The suit enveloped my body, leaving only my face exposed. Metallic pieces attached to my arms, back, legs, and hands, sparing my wrists. A metal piece settled behind my neck, deploying a helmet that fully covered my head. Crystals as tough as metal appeared on my wrists.

Oddly, I don’t feel heavy or stiff. It’s like I’m still naked, yet completely protected.

[Hello, subject BSL-404. I am Magno, your suit. I’m in your care.]

BSL? What’s that? Some new disease?

“Hey, Magno, what’s ‘BSL’?” It’s a fair question.

[BSL stands for BrainStem Limbic, your brain’s dominant regions.]

Makes sense.

“Attention, cadet, proceed to the testing area,” a voice announced through the suit’s helmet.

[Looks like we’re moving out, 404.]

“You’re gonna call me 404 now?”

[That’s correct.]

“Just call me Noah.”

[As you wish.]

The capsule’s glass slid open, and I stepped out. The mobility’s great—light and smooth. Blue lines glowed on the suit.

“What’s with the lighting? Just for looks?” I asked Magno as I headed to the exit.

[No, they reflect your emotions.]

“Well, I associate blue with sadness, and I’m not sad.”

[You’re more like single-neuroned.]

“Hey!” The lights turned a vivid red.

[You’re angry.]

“Tch…”

Outside room 4, I saw others in all kinds of suits—some with weapons, some with wings, some massive, others lightweight.

I’m curious why my suit is the way it is. Guess I’ll find out soon.