Humanity must stand together, or fall divided beneath the stars.

  It was supposed to be a dream.

  A shared dream.

  Humans reached for the Moon in 1969.

  They stepped into the void and believed that the future was finally within their grasp.

  They weren't wrong.

  But they weren't entirely right, either.

  In time, humanity built cities in orbit.

  Skies filled with light, machines carried crops across space, AIs controlled transport, harvests... even armies.

  And then, beneath the red sands of Mars in 1971,

  We found them.

  Ruins not made by human hands.

  Alien ruins.

  The world didn't rejoice.

  It panicked.

  The truth was buried.

  World leaders sealed it beneath concrete and silence, buried in contracts and classified reports.

  "We're not alone," they realized.

  "But humanity isn't ready. Not the race. Not the faiths. Not the truth."

  Still... secrets don't stay buried forever...

  not when we exploit them.

  Once hidden, the alien technology became the fuel for humanity's greatest leap.

  Human science skipped centuries overnight.

  Equations rewritten.

  New solutions found.

  New physical laws declared,

  hailed as breakthroughs of human genius.

  It spread from daily necessities to orbital infrastructure.

  From clean energy to deep-space propulsion.

  But the most visible legacy in human history,

  was the birth of giant armored units known as:

  B.O.X.

  Bio-Operated Exoform Executional Systems.

  Originally designed for space construction and mining...

  They became titans of war.

  Then, in 2001...

  The world changed again.

  The rumors returned,

  this time, with fragments of truth.

  Leaked images. Classified reports. Prototype footage.

  For four years, the silence held.

  Governments suppressed it. Media ignored it.

  The truth waited.

  Until 2005,

  when a live transmission from Mars shattered the illusion.

  Alien structures. Broadcast worldwide.

  Undeniable. Unexplainable.

  And the world broke.

  Riots.

  Mass panic.

  Regimes collapsed.

  Lines were drawn,

  in fear, in fire, in blood.

  But from the ashes of division, something emerged.

  Not a coalition of countries,

  A coalition of beliefs.

  The Intercontinental Development League.

  No borders.

  No flags.

  Only resolve.

  Its purpose was clear:

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  To reshape the world not for what it was—

  But for what it would have to become.

  The great powers, the Eastern Economic Alliance, the North Pacific Bloc, the Reformed Euro-Union—each stepped forward to form the backbone.

  And then, in 2019, the IDL fulfilled its purpose.

  It dissolved,

  not out of weakness, but through strength.

  Willingly. Completely. Not without resistance.

  From its ashes, a new global militaristic order was formed:

  The Human-Legion Vanguard.

  A single banner.

  A single council.

  A single Supreme Leader—elected not by force, but by consensus, chosen to carry the will of the species.

  But this was not conquest.

  Nations were not destroyed.

  Borders were not erased.

  They were subordinated.

  Presidents, Prime Ministers, and regional leaders remained.

  But they no longer ruled.

  They became officers under the Supreme Council.

  Each country kept its name.

  But there was only one nation.

  And it marched under the Vanguard.

  The declaration that followed was not a plea.

  Not a proposal.

  It was a truth, etched in steel:

  

  Humanity is ready for the stars. But not for what waits beyond them.

  Unity was no longer a dream.

  It became law.

  Not all agreed.

  Most complied .

  Others resisted.

  By 2022, unification had begun within the Vanguard's reach.

  Some cities disappeared.

  Others were corrected.

  B.O.X. units patrolled the ruins—

  not as conquerors, but as sentinels.

  To rebuild.

  To control.

  To watch.

  But beyond the Vanguard's expanding frontier, others rejected unity.

  Nations that wavered at unification.

  Nations unable to recognize collective progress.

  Nations trapped in the illusion of choice, standing apart from the unified future.

  They banded together.

  The Pan-Human Coalition.

  A rival superpower.

  A fractured alliance of sovereign states that refused to dissolve.

  Not rebels.

  Not terrorists.

  An ideological counterforce.

  Where the Vanguard enforces unity, the Coalition celebrates difference.

  They do not speak with one voice.

  But they speak.

  Loudly.

  Years passed. The Vanguard's mission continued.

  In those years, heroes were named, cities fell and rose, and campaigns—won or lost—fueled the march of order.

  And now—

  Beneath the obsidian spire that pierces the sky above the new city of Geneva,

  in the heart of the Unified Capital,

  a ceremony was underway.

  Not for promotion.

  Not for honor.

  But for repurposing.

  The Vanguard was not preparing soldiers.

  It was assigning tools,

  Instruments of enforcement.

  Servants of unity.

  Black uniforms. Blank faces.

  No rank. No names.

  Only function.

  They were being reassigned to a new directive.

  Not military, but something far more precise.

  A branch that did not march, but moved in silence.

  The Office of Strategic Integration.

  A non-military agency under the Supreme Council.

  Its purpose: Investigate. Intervene. Correct.

  Candidates stood in line.

  Their medals were stripped.

  Insignias, cut.

  Honors, erased.

  They were no longer officers.

  They were no longer individuals.

  When the steward reached the sixth man, he paused.

  The uniform was flawless.

  The posture, unshaken.

  He began the task, quiet, methodical.

  But this one took longer than the five before.

  There were more layers to remove.

  More to undo.

  Each gesture deliberate, as if peeling away not just fabric, but history.

  The nameplate,

  "JEAN VERVAUX"—was the last to be removed.

  He didn't flinch.

  In its place:

  A black enameled insignia, fastened at the collar.

  A ceremonial short-blade, sheathed in the coat belt.

  A unique sidearm, issued only to those granted unsanctioned authority.

  And finally, a new nameplate,

  "88"

  No name.

  No past.

  Only purpose.

  The Supreme Leader's voice echoed from above,

  "You no longer serve rank. You serve function. You are no longer military. You are machinery of purpose."

  No applause followed.

  No salute.

  Only silence.

  The officers and ministers in attendance remained motionless.

  Only the air seemed to listen.

  Then the Supreme Leader raised his voice—measured and loud,

  "One Nation!"

  A breath of silence.

  Six figures, four men and two women, Jean among them, stepped forward as one.

  Each wore the black insignia of the O.S.I.

  Their voices, calm and absolute, rose together in unison.

  "The Glory of Mankind."

  The chamber echoed with their declaration.

  The Supreme Leader continued, just as the echo began to fade,

  "Obey the one will!"

  This time, all in attendance responded at once, shouting from deep within their lungs,

  "The future belongs to us!"

  They called it a ceremony.

  But there was no anthem.

  No applause.

  No joy.

  Only silence.

  And a single, irreversible truth:

  This is the world now.