Battle Of Planets
Chapter 85: Newbie selections

Chapter 85: Newbie selections

Arrival in Babylon

An advanced spaceship flowed over the largest landing zone before slowly descending just outside the towering walls of Babylon. The ship’s doors slid open with a metallic clank, revealing a small group of humans stepping onto the ground with authority.

At the front of the group stood a young man with golden hair, his sharp eyes scanning the area. Mark strode forward, flanked by Utopian Rangers, their gazes watching the perimeter.

They saw a young man waiting to greet them with an unmistakable smirk—Justin.

"Hello there, Mark," Justin said, his voice laced with amusement. "I’ve come to greet you."

Beside him, the President of Babylon nodded enthusiastically, his expression a blend of diplomacy and excitement. "Welcome to Babylon, Sir Envoy."

Mark gave the President a brief nod but walked past without sparing Justin a glance.

Justin’s smirk only grew wider. "This is my domain, Mark. You better show some respect."

Mark halted, his presence commanding enough to make both Utopian and Babylonian Rangers feel tense.

"Respect is earned, not given," Mark replied flatly, not bothering to turn and face him. "I don’t have time for your games, Justin. I have work to do."

Justin chuckled, his tone almost playful. "Then allow me to escort you, dear envoy. After all, you are in my city, and I must show you around."

An hour later, Mark stepped out of General Albert’s office with a grim expression, having first met Albert upon his arrival.

One of his subordinates, a Utopian sergeant, waited for him outside. He immediately sensed the tension.

"How did your meeting with their general go, Captain?" the sergeant asked.

Mark ran a hand through his golden hair, exhaling in frustration. "It’s exhausting. I have to wait until tomorrow morning to meet the Vice Chairman of RD."

"Then we’d better head back, sir," the Sergeant said, glancing around nervously. "That guy is giving me the creeps."

Mark followed his gaze with a sigh.

Justin stood at a distance, sipping a smoothie, his wicked smile unwavering.

As soon as their eyes met, Justin offered Mark a slow, deliberate wave.

Mark scoffed and turned away. "Let’s go. I don’t have time to deal with him either."

The sergeant followed eagerly.

----

The Next Morning – Elria

A young man stood in line nervously. He could hear his heart pounding as he looked around at the towering Ranger Headquarters. The colossal structure looked like a fortress, its mere presence a reminder to him that today would determine his fate.

He could see that younger people his age—twenty-year-olds like him—stood around him with various expressions. Some were anxious, some were sweating, while others laughed and made jokes to mask their nervousness.

"Do you think I’ll get a powerful Meta-bot?" one guy grinned. "I know mine will be strong!"

His friend scoffed. "Boasting won’t help you. Who knows? Maybe you won’t even be selected by the Meta-bot."

"How dare you?!" the first guy exclaimed, giving his friend’s shoulder a playful punch. "I’ve dreamed about this day for years, man! Don’t jinx it."

The anxious young man gulped.

He had dreamed of this day as well, like many others. This was his opportunity—his only opportunity—to become something more than a civilian. If he failed, he’d be restricted to living an ordinary existence, working low-wage jobs to make ends meet.

However, that wasn’t the future he desired.

He had watched the Rangers fight to protect Elria, some losing their lives and others bearing wounds as marks of their bravery. They were heroes, and he wanted to be one of them.

A sharp whistle sliced through the air, signaling the next group’s arrival. Ten recruits advanced, trailing a researcher in a white coat into the building.

—

Inside the basement assessment chamber, tension lingered in the air as Young candidates filled the room, standing shoulder to shoulder. Some looked giddy and some whispered with excitement. Others were serious, eyes fixing on the door at the center of the room—a gate leading them into the test.

A woman said."Number 656."

The anxious young man quickly stepped forward.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "This is your moment. Don’t be nervous; everything will be fine."

He nodded stiffly as she led him through a high-security corridor. His hands were clenched into fists, sweat pooling in his palms. The more he walked, the more nervous he became.

At last, they halted before a dimly lit chamber.

The woman didn’t step inside. Instead, she gestured towards the open door and said, "Go ahead. It’s time."

The boy nodded, swallowing his nerves as he stepped inside. The door slid shut behind him with a hiss, sealing him in complete darkness. Silence hung heavy in the air for a brief moment, stretching unbearably long—until a soft blue path illuminated before him, urging him forward.

Hesitantly, he stepped onto a circular platform in the center of the room. The moment his foot landed, the ground beneath him trembled, and suddenly, the world began to spin.

A rush of mechanical noises erupted from the shadows, a chorus of whirring gears and shifting metal echoing through the expansive chamber. The darkness began to recede, revealing something truly breathtaking.

Rows upon rows of countless Meta-bots floated in the chamber, stretching endlessly in all directions like an infinite vault of power. Each one hovered in the air to select their human.

His eyes widened in awe.

Some resembled sleek watches, others looked like bracelets, while a few took the form of guns, swords, and even books. Every shape imaginable—a vast collection of silent Meta-bots, waiting for the right wielder.

Then, a tiny object drifted toward him.

Unlike the others, it was straightforward—a pen.

He blinked, hesitant and unsure if this was some kind of mistake. However, the moment his fingers wrapped around it, a brilliant light pulsed from its core.

Before he could react, the pen exploded, shifting and unfolding around him in a blur of motion. Metal snapped into place, locking onto his limbs in nano-tech armor, and in mere seconds, he was transformed.

The suit’s weight draped over him, seamlessly fitted to his physique.

His breath hitched.

He had done it. He was now a Meta-bot owner, and before him lay the path of fortune, power, and destiny, which had finally begun.

As he stepped out of the chamber, the woman who had led him in greeted him with a warm smile.

"Congratulations! Please follow me. You are now the owner of a Meta-bot, " the woman said with a smile.

Derious grinned; he could feel the excitement buzzing through his veins. He felt special, chosen, and, most importantly, grateful for this opportunity. He had taken his first step toward something greater.

She guided him through an adjoining corridor, leading him into a vast hall filled with other recruits. All stood in clusters, their faces alight with the same excitement he felt. Each of them held their newly bonded Meta-bots, murmuring to one another, eager for what lay ahead.

Above them, several sergeants observed from a balcony, their expressions unreadable, bored yet calculating. Meanwhile, researchers in white coats hurried between recruits, scanning and assessing their Meta-bots, noting down power points swiftly.

"Number 656—Derious, correct?" The woman’s voice drew him back.

He nodded, standing straighter.

"Show me your Meta-bot."

With a flick of his fingers, he commanded his Meta-bot to retract. Instantly, the armor unraveled and dissolved, flowing back into its base form—a simple pen resting in his palm. Even now, he felt a thrill coursing through him at the sheer control he possessed.

The woman gestured toward a small testing box held by her assistant. She carefully placed the pen inside, and the screen above flickered—Power Points: 3.

She jotted a quick note on her clipboard, giving him a brief smile before proceeding to the next recruit.

Derious exhaled, gripping his Meta-bot once more.

Three Power Points—is that not too low? At this rate, he will take forever to reach the rank of sergeant. But he has heard that the Rangers Association has discovered a new method to increase Power Points, so he will become powerful in no time.

It will be a beginning, marked by a number, but his journey has only just begun, and he will be a savior—the one who will surpass all and protect humanity. His story has only just started with a meta-bot.

"How many power points did you get?" asked the guy who had been boasting earlier."I got five! Pretty awesome, right?"

His friend smirked. "I have six, but I still haven’t seen anyone stronger among us."

"What do you mean?" the boastful guy inquired, frowning.

"Well, the starting power points reveal a lot about future growth," his friend explained. "The higher your initial points, the more powerful you’ll be in the future."

Derious’s heart sank.

Did that mean he would be among the weakest? That no matter how hard he trained, he would always lag behind?

"That means I’ll be stronger than you," the friend laughed, nudging the boaster. "You better start calling me big brother now."

"That’s not true."

A soft voice interrupted their conversation.

They turned to see a shy girl, her gaze fixed on her feet as she spoke. "White Dragon only had three power points when he was selected... yet he reached 24 in just a few years."

The group fell silent.

Derious stiffened—three power points... just like me.

However, White Dragon had surpassed most of his peers and become a legend.

"That’s right," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

His voice resonated, touching others who had also felt disheartened by their small numbers. The atmosphere changed—shoulders straightened, and expressions brightened.

Hope ignited in their eyes. Perhaps their journey wasn’t determined by numbers alone.

Then they heard a buzz; the President of Elria was there among them to address the new meta-bot wearers, followed by Alex, the General’s son, and the White Dragon himself.

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