The city of Busan was no longer a city—it was a skeleton of rebar and concrete rubble, perpetually shrouded in sea fog. Amidst these ruins, on a patch of land cleared of debris, rose the First International Training Complex—a sterile cube of glass and steel, looking like an alien artifact against the post-apocalyptic backdrop.

  February 1st. Meet and Greet Day.

  A long line formed in front of the complex. Everyone was there: from the massive Ivan to the elegant Lucida. In the crowd, trying not to draw attention, Mimic and Fortuna stood still. Their bio-suits were set to cloaking mode—today, they were just "support soldiers" whose faces no one would remember.

  The group entered. The massive reception hall echoed loudly with the thud of heavy boots.

  "Attention," Yanu’s flat, emotionless voice rang out from the speakers. "Personal earbuds have been issued to each of you. I am the Yanu system. Most of you are already familiar with my interface. Today, I will be your personal consultant and translator. Simply speak in your own language—I will do the rest."

  The fighters looked at one another, checking the devices in their ears.

  "And now," Yanu continued, "simply get to know each other. You have two hours until the first briefing begins."

  The atmosphere in the hall shifted instantly. Dozens of elite fighters began to move, sizing each other up like predators before a great hunt.

  Lucida, whose hair glowed softly under the lamps, walked confidently toward the Russian group. She stopped in front of Ivan, who towered over the others like a cliffside. Marcus, the EU leader, whose hands were still involuntarily sparking with mana, joined them immediately.

  "Hello, guys," Lucida smiled softly. "Long time no see. How are things?"

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  "Oh, hey, Lucida!" Marcus slapped her on the shoulder, not at all afraid of her aura. "How’s it going in Russia?"

  "Same old, same old," Ivan replied in his deep bass, inclining his head in a sign of respect. "They’re promising that after this project, they’ll finally give me a vacation in Siberia."

  Agnes from the USA approached them, adjusting her gloves, followed by Mon Fun and the Canadian, Sarah. The atmosphere began to warm up—veterans of many wars were recognizing one another.

  Ruslan, standing a bit further off, whispered to Ivan:

  "How do you know her? And why is she acting like we're old friends?"

  "She changes teams and countries often," Ivan answered without looking back. "I remember her even as a child. She used to visit us when my grandfather was still alive. She hasn't changed a bit since then... it's as if time has no power over her."

  Meanwhile, Lucida turned to Alibek and squinted playfully, extending her hand.

  "So, you're the one they call Albibek?"

  "No! It's Alibek!" the guy flushed, accepting the handshake.

  "Yeah, yeah, Albibek," the other fighters roared, including Strogonov. "Hey there, Albibek!"

  Lucida chuckled. "So, you’re the only one in this group of heavyweights who seriously handles long-range weaponry?"

  "Yes," Alibek tried to regain his serious expression. "But honestly, I thought Japan would field Ari Nor. She’s a master at this."

  "Ah, I see you, Alibek," Lucida laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "You’ve just got a crush on her, don't you? Were you hoping to see her?"

  "NO! NOT AT ALL!" Alibek turned red all the way to the tips of his ears, accompanied by the collective laughter of the international team.

  [Assistant’s Thoughts]

  I watched the scene from the bridge, feeling the tension in the hall slowly dissipate.

  "It’s good that Lucida is with them," I thought, marking something on my tablet. "She’s the glue. She’s lived so long that she’s managed to be in every Legion, served in every army. To these young guys, she’s living history that can crack a joke and lighten the mood. If anyone can make them work together, it’s her."

  I looked at Yanu.

  "Group synchronization—twelve percent. That’s higher than I expected for the first day."

  "Don’t get ahead of yourself, meatbag," Yanu replied in my ear. "They haven't seen the menu in the local cafeteria yet. That’s when the real conflicts will start."

  I only smiled. The first step had been taken. The greatest warriors on Earth were beginning to turn from competitors into brothers-in-arms. At least, that’s how it seemed.