General Liang Zhiyuan's Story

August 15th, 2072
Interview Room
Imperial Citizenry Center
Republic of China

For now fifty years, the whole world waged war against itself, none but the most uncivilized of nations taking part in genocides after genocides as a sentiment of extreme xenophobia swept across the world.

The entirety of North America, Russia and South Korea razed to the ground in a deadly exchange of nuclear bombs made the practice of using the mass destruction weapon prohibited and loather by the majority of the world's population and instead let place to World War after World War, making this year, the year of the Dragon, the start of the World War Five. On this occasion, China, who while one of the superpower of this time, have decided to be cautious and to form the Dragons of Confucius, a special corps comprised entirely of young, healthy and fit men to be ruthlessly trained and experimented upon in an effort to make an entire corps of elite and versatile soldiers.

Many advantage would be offered to the young men who would take part in this project, from more desirable brides to a heightened social status. Even a few Foreigners and twice as more Half-Blood would have the chance to enter the Dragons, an especially fortuitous change for those second or even third grade citizens and refugees, though ostracism and bigotry would of course make their lives more difficult than their pure Chinese counterparts.

Such advantage and with the dream of pleasing both their family and venerated ancestors pushed many a young man to enter the Imperial Citizenry Center today, a broadcast four days previous by the future commandant of the Dragons himself egging them on. All day will the young men present be interviewed one by one, until the most fit and dedicated youths present would be lead with nothing but a few personal belonging to an undisclosed location for their introductory Boot Camp as recruits.

A sense of restlessness permeate the air in the vast antechamber now used as a waiting room as whispers resonate in the full room only to be silenced as a sharply dressed military man exits a small door and say, his voice loud and sharp:

“Next!”

Gesturing briskly to the opened door and proceeded to enter and once more close the exit once both he and Bayue were inside the medium-sized room, inhabited by an imposing desk before an even more imposing man with more medals on his pristine uniform than the young man thought possible. All around the room were uniformed military men with a standard pulse pistol on their belt, all with their back straight and posture rigid, apparently ready for any type of threat. The man which had commended the young man to enter then took position before the door, effectively encircling Bayue by well trained combatants.

The man behind the desk, whom Bayue faintly recognized as the General who issued the broadcast five days previously, looked up from some files then and said, his voice cold and stern:

“State you name, age, blood status and civil status, recruit.” He commanded, his tone not leaving any room for protest as he glared at the hopeful young man with dark and sharp eyes, quite possibly assessing his worth.

Posun looked around the room. Seeing the potential for threats, Posun reacted by his hand shooting to his hip. Only after it slapped against his pocket did Posun remember exactly what was happening, and had a small look of humiliation. Until he was called, Posun's posture was that of someone who was nervous. However, Posun was more unnerved by the fact that he was now surrounded by armed and dangerous personnel without a clear escape route, and all he had between him and being a body was two fists.

He walked forward, making sure to fix his posture. This did not fix how his eyes moved. They shot from side to side, looking not at the soldiers, but at their weapons. Even in his armor, the standard pulse pistol could blow him to shreds at this range. When Posun finally got to the General, he took a salute. He was certain that the general would have been a tad bit older, but it just shows that you can't trust gossip from other 'recruits.'

"Posun Bayue, 20 years of age, orphan, and pureblood, sir." Posun said in as official a voice as he could. With how decorated the General was, Posun was sure that he was going into something big, if he went. He sweated from the small amount of stress, but did his best to remain cool. It was just another visit to a general after all.

Nodding stiffly, General Liang stood to his full height of six feet two and started to circle Posun slowly, looking at every sign of weakness with his hawk eyes and muttering comments now and then about what he discovered about the younger man's state of both body and mind.

“Are you familiar with the military, Recruit?” He asked in a growl, the nervous and immediate nodding from Posun seeming to satisfy him.

A few stressful minutes were passed that way then, with questions and the basic physical examination being performed before Posun was deemed apt to make his way to the boot camp in an undisclosed location and told to enter a specified military vehicle to be led there.

“Don't tarry, tardiness is a serious offence in my book, Recruit.” Whispered the General before giving him permission to leave.

As Posun left, the same man as earlier exited the room with him, uttering the same word as ten minutes previous.

“Next!”

Posun moved out of the room quickly, grabbing the suitcase that he had left by the door. It was not a nervous type of quick, but a 'I have to be somewhere' type of quick. The rest of Posun was still recovering from the nervousness as he walked. He passed the next man to come to the door with a nod.

The crowd seemed thicker than before as Posun now tried to navigate to the vehicle that he was told to go to. He wanted to get away from the crowd as fast as he could. What had truly put the man on edge was the fact that all of the people crammed into the room showed not a single sign of aggression. To him, that meant that at least one potentially dangerous person was hiding among the crowd. Posun wanted to minimize the risk of being their when one of the dangerous people decide to do something dangerous.

Once Posun managed to reach the hallway, his pace slowed from a hurried walk to a fast walk. He was looking around following the instructions of the general to find his way to the vehicle he was told to report to.