The air in the Federation's training complex was heavy with the tang of sweat and ionized metal, a monument to relentless discipline and unspoken dissent. The four—Zhou Ying, Zhou Wei, Ya Ning, and Yan Jingyi—halted their whispered talk of rebellion. The walls of the training building, though gleaming with sterile efficiency, seemed to pulse with unseen ears. To speak of upending the Federation's military order here was to court disaster. Silently, they agreed to disperse, each returning to their dormitories to pack their belongings. Expelled from the Federation's elite team, they had twenty-four hours to vanish, their presence erased as if they'd never fought for the team's honor.
They kept their ousting quiet, a tacit pact to avoid stirring the others. Many students who'd resisted the MechSync System had looked to Zhou Ying's group as a beacon of defiance. If word spread that they'd been cast out, others might follow, sparking a cascade of desertions. Such a movement could be twisted into a narrative of "Zhou Ying and his cohorts inciting rebellion against high command," a charge heavy with disciplinary consequences. For now, silence was their shield. They would slip away like shadows, their pride intact but their futures uncertain.
As night fell, the four emerged from the training complex, luggage in hand, the weight of their expulsion settling like dust. The towering structure loomed behind them, its lights casting stark reflections on the polished plaza. A surreal haze clung to them—had they truly been cast adrift so swiftly? Zhou Ying's light computer chimed, breaking the reverie. He answered, exchanging brief words with the caller. Moments later, a sleek hovercar descended from the skyway, its engines humming softly as it settled before them.
"Let's go," Zhou Ying said, his voice steady but tinged with weariness.
They stowed their bags in the car's rear compartment and climbed inside. The interior was spacious, its cushioned seats and dim lighting a stark contrast to the training complex's austerity. The four settled in, the car's gentle ascent smoothing the edges of their tension.
Zhou Ying reclined, his pale fingers brushing the control screen. "So, how do we get back? Book starship tickets through a jump station, or rent a shuttle and take the scenic route—like a road trip?" His tone was light, almost playful, a jarring shift from the intensity of their earlier conspiratorial whispers.
Jingyi's face darkened, her patience fraying. "You're awfully relaxed," she said, her voice sharp. "Back there, you were all 'let's start a revolution,' and now you're planning a vacation?"
Zhou Ying shrugged, unperturbed. "No point brooding. What's our next move? Back to the academy dorms?" The military academy was on break, and with Instructor Holman away on a long-term mission, Jingyi and Ya Ning would likely head home.
Zhou Ying turned to the window, where the skyway's lights streaked past, their glow fracturing in his deep, shadowed eyes. "I'm going to the Zhou family estate," he said. "As for Wei, you can take him wherever."
Zhou Wei's brow furrowed. "I'm not letting you go alone."
"Don't be foolish, brother," Zhou Ying said, his voice calm but firm. "You'd be no help there. It'd just stir up the old family squabbles—who's the true heir, you or me? I'd rather settle that now, once and for all, before they concoct more nonsense." He gazed out at the fleeting cityscape, his words deliberate. "I'm serious this time. Don't hold me back."
Zhou Wei fell silent, his protest stifled. Ya Ning watched, understanding the brothers' dynamic. Both shielded the other, but Zhou Ying's protectiveness ran deeper—he bore the family's burdens alone, sparing Wei the worst of their kin's machinations. The Zhou estate was a viper's nest, and Zhou Ying's return was a calculated plunge into its heart.
"You've dodged them before," Ya Ning said, his green eyes steady. "Not this time. You can't handle it alone. Wei's right—we're coming with you." He leaned forward, his voice resolute. "Didn't we agree to change the galaxy together?"
Zhou Ying's expression flickered, a rare crack in his composure. His intent was clear: to rally the great families against the Federation's military, to curb Ning Hongxue's growing power. He'd once dreamed of carving his own path, free from the Zhou family's suffocating traditions, relying on his mech engineering genius to rise. But the Federation's shift toward the Mind Matrix Technology had shattered that vision. He could still thrive as a prodigy, crafting mechs for the elite, but that wasn't enough. His ambition demanded more—a new order, forged not by AI but by human will.
To sway the families, he'd need their support, and the Zhou clan was the linchpin. The Federation's democracy was a facade, a stage for oligarchic families to pull the strings. Ning Hongxue's tenure as military commander had rankled them. He'd centralized power, sidelining the families' operatives in the military and replacing them with loyalists, severing their influence. The Mind Matrix, by diminishing the role of human commanders, threatened the families' favored path to power—grooming heirs for high-ranking posts through gilded resumes. Worst of all, Ning Hongxue controlled the technology's core, a direct challenge to the families' military foothold.
"The families cling to their status through wealth, influence, and military sway," Zhou Ying said, his voice low. "They breed heirs with high mental strength to secure that sway. Wei and I were born for that purpose. Their obsession with bloodlines borders on madness." He paused, his gaze distant. "Have I ever told you about my mother?"
Ya Ning and Jingyi shook their heads, their faces solemn.
"She had immense mental strength but a frail constitution, unfit for bearing children," Zhou Ying said. "Without passing on her genes, the Zhou family would've cast her out. So she risked everything, using gene-editing tech to conceive us. Our parents loved each other deeply, but they died young. Wei's mental strength surpassed 3S, a freak anomaly—'beyond tech's predictions,' they called him. They thought his birth held secrets to genetic ascension, so from childhood, he was hauled into labs, prodded and tested until they gave up, sending him to the front lines."
Wei's status in the family had been precarious, seen by some as a mere specimen. It was their grandfather, the Zhou patriarch, who'd intervened, his wrath silencing the detractors. "They're my grandsons!" he'd roared. "Some of you gossiping vipers should look in the mirror—what value do you bring? Is the family nothing without you?" He declared the next head would be either Zhou Ying or Wei, quashing the rumors. It underscored a truth: the families prized blood and strength above all.
The Mind Matrix upended that. Personal prowess meant little in a system where AI dictated strategy, rewriting promotion and selection rules to favor Ning Hongxue's control. It was a power grab, plain and simple, pitting him against the families—especially the Zhous, whose history with him was steeped in bad blood. His sister's death, tied to Zhou machinations, and his exile to a perilous border region had fueled his vendetta. He'd ally with others before considering the Zhous.
"Using the Zhou family's weight is our best bet," Zhou Ying said, turning to his friends. "But it's a thorny path. I'm playing tiger against wolf, and one misstep could see us devoured. I'm ready for that risk, but you don't have to follow. Ya Ning, you mentioned Lancelot Star—it's not a bad place anymore."
Lancelot Star had transformed, thanks to Zhou Ying and Wei's investments from their shares in Kangheng Life Tech. Bai Sha's negotiations with the Federation Senate had drawn resources—radiation cleanup, environmental upgrades, and investment incentives. Parts of the planet now rivaled major worlds, a haven of stability.
Ya Ning laughed, shaking his head. "You think we'd bail now? We're in this together." He rubbed his brow, his tone sobering. "But, Zhou Ying, one thing: what's your vision? If we topple Ning Hongxue and the families rule the military again, what then?"
Zhou Ying froze, caught off guard. He'd railed against the Federation's course, seen his friends' futures crushed by Ning Hongxue's system, but Ya Ning's question pierced deeper. Chaos for chaos's sake was hollow. He needed a blueprint, a future worth fighting for, not just ambition's fire.
"Thanks," he said, a faint smile in his eyes. "I'll think it through."
The Zhou estate sprawled across a verdant plateau, its towers gleaming under twin moons. Zhou Ying's return was seamless, eased by the recent birthday banquet he and Wei had hosted there. The familiar assistant, a fixture at their grandfather's side, greeted him with unprecedented warmth. "Master Zhou Ying, your room's unchanged. Anything you need, just say."
The deference was striking, reserved for a true heir. Zhou Ying forced a smile. "I'll manage. You go."
His meeting with the patriarch was a masterclass in candor. The old man saw through him instantly, his eyes sharp as lasers. "You're here to stir the pot," he said, not unkindly. "Your plans align with the family's interests—for now. I won't stop you. I'll even help."
Zhou Ying nearly dropped his teacup. "I'm half in the grave," the patriarch continued, his voice softening. "This family's yours soon enough. We're blood, Zhou Ying. Trust I won't betray you. What you want to know, to learn—I'll teach you."
The offer was staggering. Zhou Ying had expected resistance, a drawn-out power struggle. Instead, the patriarch laid the path bare. "You know how many families have visited lately?" he asked. "Some for me, some for you."
He listed them, revealing a broader resistance to the Mind Matrix than Zhou Ying had imagined. Beyond those like him, who'd rejected integration outright, were family scions who'd tested the MechSync and lost faith in similar tech. These were prodigies, loath to bow to any commander, let alone an AI. The notion of being expendable cogs, their worth calculated by cold algorithms, was anathema. Even common-born students shared their distaste.
"Support will grow," the patriarch said. "Learn who to use, who to cut." His voice hardened. "I once lamented your brother's soft heart, despite his gifts. But you—you're a Zhou. Unshackled by sentiment. You left this family without a backward glance, and you'll face Ning Hongxue the same way. Not like Wei, dithering, sacrificing himself for nothing."
Zhou Ying's face remained impassive, but inwardly, he scoffed. You think I crave your power? You're betting I'm nothing without it. For now, he'd play along.
They turned to Ning Hongxue's Mind Matrix. "He's treading the Silver Empire's path," the patriarch said, disgust lacing his words. "Tech-driven tyranny? The people won't stand for it, nor will the Ares Empire sit idle. Rebellion and fracture will follow—our nation's decline is near."
If the families were flawed, Ning Hongxue was a saboteur, planting explosives in the Federation's roots. Zhou Ying frowned. "Where did he get this tech?"
"Who knows?" the patriarch said. "Probably some Silver Era relic from a forgotten ruin. Scholars spend lifetimes decoding such scraps. The families likely hoard similar secrets, waiting for the right moment."
The gene tech that birthed Zhou Ying and Wei drew from those same Silver legacies. After a pot of tea and a pact of mutual exploitation, Zhou Ying retreated to his room, exhaustion seeping into his bones. The estate's memories—bitter, suffocating—flooded back, stoking the darker corners of his nature. He'd always been cunning, vengeful, his schemes leaving relatives sleepless with rage.
Bai Sha had been a turning point. She'd anchored him in three ways. First, during his hollow youth, her presence reminded him of his love for mechs, a lifeline against resentment. Second, she'd saved Wei, his dearest kin. Third, she'd shown him he could care for others beyond his brother, acting from loyalty alone, untainted by gain.
Then came Ya Ning and Jingyi, his circle growing. Smiling to himself, Zhou Ying rolled over in bed, opened his light computer, and adopted a theatrical tone of weary melancholy. He sent Bai Sha a voice message: "Next exercise, you won't see us."
Her reply was swift—three question marks, then: "Why?"
"The military's pushing a new tech, 'Mind Matrix,'" he said. "It's AI-controlled coordination. We refused to sign, so we're out. But we're fine—just heading home for a break, no punishments or expulsions."
"Mind Matrix, huh?" Bai Sha's voice was dry. "They're full of tricks. Got it. Rest up—I'll tear their system apart. But you're a mech engineer. They're mad, tossing you out?"
"I couldn't abandon my friends," Zhou Ying said, pausing for effect. "Even if they didn't force me out, I'd stand with them. That's what friends do."
"You're a saint," Bai Sha said, a hint of warmth in her tone.
"Let's not dwell," Zhou Ying said. "At least we won't clash on the field. It's late there, right? Don't overwork—rest. Goodnight. We miss you."
"Goodnight," Bai Sha replied softly. "I'll miss you all too."
On Youdu Star, Bai Sha sat in her workshop, the message from Zhou Ying looping in her mind. The Federation's purge was a bold, foolish move, alienating their best for the sake of a dubious tech. Her tools lay idle, the Crow's Cry Bow's materials untouched. The Yi-Shooting Arrows gleamed, their potential dormant without a bow to wield them.
The Emperor's fixation on Bai Yi gnawed at her, a reminder of her tangled heritage. Jiang Gui's warnings—her "accidents" orchestrated by unseen foes—loomed larger now. The Silver Nexus, or its agents, was a specter she couldn't ignore. Were her friends' expulsions another move in that game?
She stood, pacing the workshop's cluttered aisles. The Mind Matrix was a gambit, stripping soldiers of agency, reducing them to cogs. Zhou Ying's defiance, his choice to stand with his friends, echoed her own resolve. They were kindred spirits, bound by loyalty and a refusal to bend.
Her light computer held her reply: Stay safe. I'll dig into this. But she added more, her fingers tapping swiftly: If you're planning something, count me in. We'll break their game together.
The galaxy was a chessboard, and Bai Sha was no pawn. The Federation, the Nexus, the Empire's own shadows—she'd face them all, her friends at her side, her bow a promise of reckoning.