Amidst the endless sea of shifting desert sands, a formidable six-star fortress crafted from sun-bleached sandstone towers defiantly against the horizon. This once-proud bastion has become a solitary sentinel in a land ravaged by the merciless grip of drought. Several kilometers away is a battlefield filled with an army of savages whose bodies resemble Silverback Mountain Gorillas. They are twice the size of the dead humans who lie scattered across the sunbaked ground. The corpses have been violently ripped apart and half-eaten. Blood drips from the mouths of these mutated apes, whose eyes seem to have human-level intelligence, and the hair on their bodies ranges from blonde, orange, red, brown, black, and white. A dozen of them surround humans who have formed a phalanx spear wall in the shape of a circle. Their commander at the center is guarded by several heavily armored warriors carrying tower shields made from monstrously large insect carapaces. Even the armor on their bodies is crafted from the same material. However, their spears and short swords are made of carbon steel.

  "Get back, you savages! Let us retreat to the fortress, or my men will aim for your eyeballs to blind you all!" The commander at the center of the defensive formation yells out.

  "You... dinner!" The largest Ape-man who even towers over his kin, says with a deep voice.

  Unlike the rest of the Ape-men, who fought with bare fists. This one is wearing bone armor made from an Elephant and using its massive tusks as dual clubs made of ivory. Instead of using them, he impales them into the ground before grabbing a heavily armored human corpse to swing it like a bat to whack away several spears with ease. The spearmen in the second row hand over their extra spears to quickly replace those lost by the front row of the defensive line.

  "Shit! Can't you see we are all skin and bones after a week without food? We are no threat to your kind!"

  The commander yells as he looks at the corpses of his legion that once numbered 10000 men, most of whose bodies are so deformed that there isn't a single one in sight that has been left intact with all their limbs and head. The ones still left standing were among the last who were desperate to cut through the Ape-men hordes that surrounded the star fort.

  Earlier that dawn, it was decided that they would use up their last remaining strength to cut through the Ape-men encirclement and escape back to the heartland of their Empire. It was a desperate and foolish plan, but it was either that or just waiting for the inevitable.

  The commander knew his remaining men were too weak to hold up their spears and shields. Even their armor became too heavy for them to move in since they were starving and had a limited number of water skins to quench their thirst in the blazing desert environment.

  "Brains... tasty!" The largest Ape-man said while drooling before unleashing a terrifying roar and battering his chest like drums to signal the rest of his kin, who began to grab the human corpses and throw them onto the defensive lines to weigh down the spears long enough for the most agile Ape-men to charge in and widen the hole in the defenses so that the heavier comrades can move into smash the rest of the lines.

  Screams followed along with sounds of bones being crushed and blood being splattered into small puddles on the ground. It barely took two minutes before the commander at the center was ripped in two at the waist by the large ape-man, who sucked out the brain matter from the cracked open skull. Once he was done eating, the large ape-man pointed at the Star fort before yelling.

  "Next!"

  Atop the highest tower of the fort, where the Sun casts long shadows, a band of weary soldiers gathers, their expressions etched in despair. They managed to retreat to the fort after their escape bid failed.

  Clad in black carapace armor that bears the insignia proclaiming him as an officer of high rank, he raises his right hand to get the attention of the rest of his men before raising his voice above the whispers of despair that swirl around him.

  "We all know this is our last stand!" he declares, his tone heavy with the weight of the truth. "You, a hundred strong, are the last of the '8th Legion' of the Golden Scarab Empire. As your centurion, I am deeply honored to stand beside you until our final breath. Before the horde climbs up the walls of this fortress, we must safeguard our legion standard. It is our last link to honor, our only hope to join our fallen brothers among the stars without regret." He glances sadly down at the standard, held tightly in his grip since the loss of their brave standard-bearer. "Only the youngest among us who possess the strength to run and the courage to fight will be deemed worthy to carry it out of here."

  A moment of silence hangs heavy in the air as the surviving legionnaires, aged between 25 and 40, exchange puzzled glances, each seeking the youngest among them.

  "Arunus! Get your virgin ass over to Centurion Degarus!"

  Finally, one soldier steps forward, seizing the arm of a young man who appears to be no more than 18. The youth stands there, clad in medium armor that bears signs of the brutal battle. His short sword lies shattered at his side, remnants sharp enough to serve as a makeshift dagger. The standard legion shield he clutches with his left hand has been distorted and battered by the relentless assaults of the undead. Despite the dents and scrapes, it remains in better condition than the fractured gear of the veteran soldiers around him.

  "But... I will be treated as a coward if I survive."

  "The only opinion you should care about is your fellow legionnaires. As long as you resurrect our legion, we will forgive and welcome you to the stars when your time is up."

  "I... understand... I will revive the glory of the 8th legion and make you all proud!"

  Arunus casts aside his battered shield and shattered sword, their worn surfaces reflecting countless battles, before sinking to one knee in reverence before Degarus. He accepts the legion standard as if it were a sacred relic, its significance palpable in the air around them. The standard is a heavy golden shield, intricately crafted in the shape of a magnificent Golden Scarab. Its surface sparkles with embedded black diamonds, arranged meticulously to form the elegant shape of the number 8. The shield's weight almost causes Arunus to lose his balance, but he summons the strength from deep within his left arm, muscles tensing and straining as he raises the shield above his head. At that moment, he lets out a thunderous war cry, harmonizing with the fierce declaration of loyalty for his brothers in arms who lend their voices to meld with his into an anthem of unity and strength.

  After their voices grew hoarse from the thunderous cheers, Arunus bent down to retrieve the shattered remnants of his sword. Just then, Centurion Degarus stepped forward, halting him with a firm hand.

  "Take my sword. The legion standard must be paired with the best sword we have left. Now, secure the shield to your back."

  "Won't I need it to defend myself while escaping?"

  "There won't be a need to fight your way out of here?

  "Huh?"

  "There is a secret escape tunnel reserved for royalty and generals. But I'm sure they won't mind since none are left here to use."

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "Why don't we all use it to escape?"

  "There isn't enough there down in the tunnels for a hundred men to breathe. You alone should be able to manage it. Now pay attention if you don't want to get lost down there."

  Arunus patiently listened to the instructions. Most of it made his mouth hang low, and his eyes bulged in shock.

  "Pray for us when you reach the inner sanctum. May the Sun protect you with warmth and the stars guide you to a better future."

  Arunus bows deeply to the Centurion before repeating to the rest of his comrades who approach to lay their hands on his helmet as a way to bless him and offer a farewell. Arunus then descends into the depths of the fort alone while the roars of the Ape-men fill the air beyond the walls.

  "They are coming!"

  Arunus quickly rushes towards a well that is discreetly hidden within the ancient stone walls of the Star fort. With a determined heart, Arunus takes a deep breath, then gazes into the darkened depths of the well. The shadows seem to swirl beneath the surface, concealing the secrets of the water below. Without hesitating, he plunges into the inky abyss. The weight of his carapace armor and metal shield drags him down swiftly, the chill of the water enveloping him like a shroud. He fights against the instinct to surface, pushing forward through the suffocating dark, his lungs burning and his mind screaming for the life-sustaining air he so desperately needs.

  As he descends, a faint light flickers in the distance, beckoning him forward. Ignoring the cries of his body, he walks onward, his armored boots striking the silty bottom with a muted thud. Finally, his feet connect with submerged steps that lead upwards. With great effort, he ascends from the frigid water, emerging into a hidden chamber. The air here is damp and musty, filled with the scent of ancient stone and secrets long kept. A narrow tunnel stretches before him, winding its way towards an expansive cave network, hidden fifty kilometers from the star fort.

  Once Arunus heaves his armored body from the cool, dark embrace of the water, he takes several labored minutes to expel the brackish liquid that fills his lungs and seeps through the crevices of his heavy armor. The sound of water gurgling out echoes softly in the damp air as he finally grasps a lantern, one of a dozen flickering lights that cast a warm glow around the vast chamber. With a deep breath, he steadies himself before heading into the narrow, winding tunnel that awaits him.

  The journey stretches on for hours as the path is twisted and unpredictable, yet he walks with purpose because the flickering light from his lantern reveals the ancient cave paintings lining the walls, made long ago to guide those who could decipher their meaning. These mesmerizing depictions, crafted by the ancestors of the Golden Scarab Empire when they roamed the land as primitive cave dwellers, also tell stories of survival in a world vastly different from the arid desert of today.

  Arunus studies the intricate paintings, vibrant colors, and rough textures captured in prehistoric artistry, showcasing a variety of fearsome creatures. Once, this land was an untamed jungle, a wild expanse teeming with giant lizards, birds, insects, and beasts that hunted humans as a snack. Among these ancient symbols, he notices the celestial bodies worshipped by those early inhabitants. But his face frowned when he came across depictions of Ape-men who were Humans that somehow survived on the surface and hunted those large animals. But it came at the cost of huge bodies and looking like beasts. Thus, they were named Ape-men and weren't treated as humans since they were happy to hunt and eat humans.

  Fortunately, the Ape-men only claimed Jungles and forests as their territory. While the Humans moved to the deserts and savannahs when they finally developed enough technology to farm the land, raise livestock, build walled settlements, and reach the iron age.

  Due to changes in the environment that led to the disappearance of jungles and forests, the Ape-men hordes became raiders who attacked Human forts and settlements to steal the food and resources that could not be produced on their own.

  "If the 8th Legion only lasts a month against them, then the rest of the Legions won't do any better. What's the point of reviving the legion if they will be wiped out again?"

  Arunus let out the thoughts that had been in his mind when he was chosen as the sole survivor.

  "Maybe the Golden Scarab Empire will develop new tactics to help me take revenge on those freakish apes."

  Arunus shakes his head to refocus on the present task and continues. Each step he takes creates soft echoes through the narrow passageway. Eventually, he encountered sections that needed to be crawled through. The carapace armor got in the way, so he had to abandon everything apart from the golden shield, iron sword, and body-fit leather armor that was hidden underneath the carapace to continue.

  Once Arunus got through the claustrophobia-inducing sections of the passageway, he pressed on until he emerged into the vast expanse of the cavern, illuminated by an ethereal glow of white mushrooms that grew on the walls of the cavern. Before him lie the ancient remains of the legendary Golden Scarab, who once watched over his primitive ancestors who sought refuge in these shadowy depths of the Earth to escape the monsters on the surface. Its remains are the same size as the Mastodon-like creature that was mounted by the Legatus of the 8th Legion, who rode into battle. Now, the same elephant's bones are used as weapons and armor by the General of the Ape-men.

  Surrounding the ancient carapace are hundreds of human-sized clay jars, their surfaces worn and cracked with age. Each jar is a treasure chest overflowing with shimmering gold coins and dazzling gems, glinting like stars scattered across a night sky. These offerings, left by those who knew the sacred secrets of the caves, speak of reverence and gratitude.

  Over the years, the remains of the Golden Scarab have transformed into an idol of adoration, a focal point for royalty and high-ranking officers of the legions entrusted with its protection. Arunus knelt on the cold, damp ground, his heart heavy with grief as he honored the memory of his fallen legionnaires. He closed his eyes tightly, whispering a fervent prayer into the stillness, hoping that the restless souls of his comrades would find solace among the stars. Each breath he took carried the weight of their sacrifice, and he felt the chill of the night seep deep into his bones.

  Suddenly, an involuntary shiver coursed through his body, rattling him to his core. He winced as he felt invisible hands reaching out to mend the small wounds scattered across his form, knitting flesh and sinew with a swiftness that defied logic. Astonished, he opened his eyes, expecting to see the altar of the Golden Scarab. Instead, he found himself enveloped in an overwhelming pitch-black darkness that swallowed all forms and shapes, rendering him temporarily blind.

  In that terrible void, silence descended like a thick shroud, stealing away the sounds of the world around him. His ears rang with an eerie emptiness, making the weight of isolation crush against his chest. He was alone, adrift in a realm that seemed to exist beyond time, caught between sorrow and an unsettling sense of renewal. With every heartbeat, uncertainty gripped him tightly, leaving him to grapple with whatever had just transpired.

  "What is happening to me!" Arunus yelled, but no sound came out of his voice.

  As if a dam had burst, a flood of foreign language vocabulary surged into his consciousness, accompanied by vivid images of an extraordinary world unlike his own. One that is devoid of giant bugs or Ape-men. Instead, he envisioned human settlements that have architecture which is breathtaking and intricate, stretching towards the clouds in an awe-inspiring display of human ingenuity.

  The onslaught of information overwhelmed him, each new word and image forcing its way into his mind with an intensity that felt like a torturer methodically drilling nails into his skull. The agony was sharp and unrelenting, a throbbing pain that clouded his thoughts and twisted his perception of reality. Just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, the pain started to ebb, and the choking darkness that surrounded him was pierced by a brilliant light.

  As the warm light radiated around him, it gradually dissipated, revealing a striking figure standing before him. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to Arunus. He stood at the center of an expansive clearing, encircled by imposing statues crafted from polished marble. Each statue stood ten feet tall, their surfaces gleaming in the fading sunlight, and they exuded an aura of divine power that filled the lush green garden surrounding them. The vibrant colors of the garden were further enhanced by the soft hues of the setting sun, casting a golden light that danced across the landscape.

  "Welcome to the Testing Grounds of Geratina, Arunus!" the figure announced, his voice resonating with a commanding presence. "I have summoned you to become the champion of the God of Melee, Kartan!" The look-alike said as he pointed to a statue of a brutish man in heavy knight armor and six arms, each holding a different weapon. The statue began to glow, and then an astral projection of it moved toward the pair at the centre.

  "A fine candidate! That golden shield alone is enough to win my favor if he pledges to serve me alone when he picks all his Classes."

  Though the words came in a foreign language, Arunus felt a remarkable understanding wash over him, as if the essence of the words themselves translated into his mind. In an instant, he found himself able to respond, instinctively forming a question in the same unfamiliar tongue.

  "Who are you?" he asked the look-alike, his voice steady yet filled with intrigue, as he took in the surreal scene before him.

  "Call me, Genesis!"