The United Earth Federation.

Out of the top three academies, it was the only one that was less of an academy and more of a military institute.

In his past life, White had spent more than half his life here, completing all three years of training and then getting recruited back as a soldier under the organization, until he eventually climbed his way up to a Battle Squad Captain, earning the reputation of MadWhite.

But as he stood in the jet, looking at the towering singular structure that he had seen all too well, there was no awe of any kind in his heart.

Just a coldness from returning to an organization that he had given his life and soul to, just to be stabbed in the back and destroyed by them.

"As the forefront military force on Earth, Humanity Ascension doesn’t have as much control over the UEF as it does over Xtremcyber or Mutantgnome."

Commander Zoltan said at the side, and White turned to him.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Be careful what you do in the UEF, White."

He said, and White hummed, the jet piercing through the UEF barrier, where about five more jets appeared, surrounding theirs.

"Enough walk-in. Drop the recruit."

The order came into the mothership as White turned away from the glass, walking towards the hatch.

Commander Zoltan stepped after him, but he couldn’t help but notice the deathly cold that radiated from the young man as the jet slowly opened up, and he stepped down.

Five towering men in that familiar red-black uniform stepped out to them.

"Commander Zoltan."

They saluted as the Commander himself gave a slight bow.

"We of Humanity Ascension leave him in your care."

He said before turning his back and going into the mothership, which soon lifted into the sky and disappeared.

It left just White and the five Commanders, who had their gazes furrowed deeply.

Tall and muscular as they were, the being before them was still a head taller, and while leaner looking, there was this frighteningly cold death aura that lingered around him as he stared at them.

"I hope he remembered to tell you that I’ll be joining in as a third year?"

White asked, and one of the soldiers replied,

"Humanity Ascension isn’t the one to tell us where to put a recruit. The year you join is based on the assessment of the UEF."

He said as White resumed walking forward.

"And how exactly would this assessment happen again?"

---

"According to normal protocols, all recruits start as First Years in the UEF."

The words echoed through the hall where five UEF officials stood, before them, White.

"But for a special recruit like you, there’s a need to test your aptitude to determine what class is best for you to begin in."

"This we call the assessment."

They spoke.

"And the first is a replication of pressure."

He said as one of the five men stepped forward.

"Officer Macmillian here possesses an ability that can replicate the pressure of a battlefield, imposing on you the stress as war reaches extreme levels."

"This is one of the first requirements a UEF soldier must possess: the ability to withstand great amounts of pressure without impediment of any sort."

"His ability comes with pain and the feeling of tiredness that will try to break your mind and have you slump to the ground."

"You must resist everything and keep on your feet."

"The more time you spend doing that, the higher your assessment and the year you will be placed in."

The commanding officer explained as White turned to the crimson-haired officer, whose hands slowly released a crimson dome of energy spreading outward until it covered White.

"Are you prepared!?"

"Yes."

White replied curtly, and the barrier released a crimson light.

White could feel it, the waves of pressure, the nauseating smell of blood and bullets.

Even the sound of heavy gunfire, explosions, and all began to slowly appear.

The ability tried to recreate the chaos of a battlefield, and it did try, though to White, it was a poor imitation.

How could anyone feel the chaos of war if they weren’t in it itself, watching bodies fall, with bullets whizzing past their ears?

Watching their own allies getting ripped to pieces by Supernaturals?

The screams and roars of defiance as soldiers fight back, even with both arms severed, using only teeth to stab a knife into the neck of a Supernatural, then having their heads crushed like a melon from the heavy bite of another Supernatural.

All of that was the hell that had made him what he was, and surviving it had given him the name MadWhite.

And simulation was nothing but child’s play to him.

Even after three hours had passed, and the man’s hands were beginning to shake from exhaustion, White opened his mouth and yawned loudly, his boredom clear as day to all of them.

"He...he doesn’t seem affected. Not even by a bit."

A commander said from the side.

Even those who had gone to war, when placed in this simulation that Officer Macmillian was capable of, would show obvious signs of fidgeting for the strongest of them, while the weakest would have already lost consciousness, screaming out of their minds.

But him, he did not move at all, simply standing where he was while looking at them with drooping eyes.

"Hey Mac, are you sure you’ve got the ability activated?"

A commander asked from the side.

Even though there was already the crimson dome, which was clear enough, they still couldn’t help but ask.

"Without question, but how come he’s not budging?"

Mac said, his hands lighting up as he poured all of his energy into it, yet the results didn’t change, and they all came to one conclusion.

The special recruit wasn’t affected at all by the simulation of war, showing an almost inhuman level of ability to endure stress.

"That’s enough."

The official finally said, as Officer Mac took back his hands, crouching on his knees whilst exhaling in exhaustion.