An Old Man

One day, humanity will unlock the secrets to galactic travel. When that time comes, all of our problems will be solved. World hunger, overpopulation, scarcity. None of it will matter when a vast universe of endless resources will be available to us. Driven by this notion, humanity's best and brightest continued to strive endlessly to advance human technology. An innumerable amount of scientists, whose names are now lost to history, all dedicated their lives for this one goal.

And one day, on December 31st, 3000 of the Human Calendar, humanity announced that they had finally attained the ability to freely travel the cosmos. Millions---no, billions---worldwide rejoiced. Carefree optimism ran rampant, and it seemed as human ingenuity had no limit.

Alas, once humanity truly began their foray into the vast universe, their hopes were quickly and cruelly trampled. Humans were not the first to set foot in the cosmos. Far from it; rather they could even be considered late to the party. Of course, humanity, with its prevailing stubbornness and stupidity refused to accept reality until it slapped them in the face and repeatedly kicked them in the balls.

After a series of short, and ultimately futile wars against alien civilizations, humanity saw the truth. They were hopelessly outclassed. The gap in strength between humanity and the other galactic civilizations was akin to the gap in strength between a second trimester fetus and an olympic powerlifter. Stupidly large. Faced with this cruel reality, humanity only had one option: to submit.

Finally welcoming their new alien overlords, called the Galactic Federation, humanity was once again hit by the cruel reality, this time, with the equivalent of an uppercut to the chin. As a newly advanced civilization, and loser of a series of wars, humans weren't considered people; rather, they were more akin to livestock. Judging by the combat power shown in the conflicts between the Federation and humanity, the Galactic Federation decided that humans were unfit even to be meat shields in their ongoing wars. Their only purpose? Labor.

Somewhat thankfully, however, humanity was not done just yet. Ten years after the occupation of the Galactic Federation, humanity's "hero" appeared. A man named Wang Zeng unlocked the ability to perceive the energy of the cosmos, galactic energy. Subsequently, he soon established humanity's first system of cultivation.

Before this, humanity had known of the existence of galactic energy through the Galactic Federation, but it was thought that they were unable to use it due to their lack of pathways and storage for galactic energy, as well as their inability to perceive it. However, Wang Zeng found that humanity, after continual exposure to high levels of galactic energy, will eventually gain the ability to perceive, and even absorb galactic energy. However, there was still the problem of having no pathways for the galactic energy to run through, and having no place to store the galactic energy.

And so, Wang Zeng partnered with a scientist, Arthur Penbrook, gathering numerous human volunteers to help experiment with galactic energy. Soon they found, with continual absorption of galactic energy through a long term, they could carve out their own energy pathways in the body in a drawn out and arduous process. Finally, by accumulating a large mass of energy in the pathways and continually forging the navel area, they could create a dantian to store galactic energy. With this, came the ability to store and utilize galactic energy, and strengthen the body. And finally, humanity had been granted the ability to cultivate.

With this, Wang Zeng and Arthur Penbrook led humanity to renegotiate terms with the Galactic Federation. After five years passed, they finally agreed upon a deal. With the ability to cultivate galactic energy, humans were no longer livestock... they were meat shields. Of course, the ability to cultivate was a great step for humanity. But for other civilizations, such as those running the Galactic Federation, it was merely the starting line.

With bodies naturally fit to cultivate, the long and arduous process of carving out energy pathways, dubbed, "Bodily Reformation" was not needed for most alien races. To make matters worse, many alien races had unique genetic abilities that made them superior to the exceedingly average humans. In the end, the terms of the deal went like this.

Humanity was now granted the identity of citizens of the Galactic Federation. As such, they were entitled to basic rights such as the right to own property and the right to education. Additionally, they were granted the ability to trade with other members of the Galactic Federation and were granted a few planets to govern, though all citizens were allowed to live anywhere in the Federation as long as they could afford it.

However, as a trade off, all humans over the age of eighteen, no matter the gender, occupation, or social status, were forced to contribute to the military for at least fifteen years. For some, that meant working as an engineer or a battlefield analyst. But for most, that meant mindlessly throwing yourself into the war, likely to come home only in a casket. Despite this, it was their only option. And so, humanity willingly threw themselves into the mire of the war, hoping that one day, they would be able to escape.

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Year 5500 of The New Galactic Calendar, one hundred years after humanity's first foray into the galaxy.

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A young man sat on a steel bench, staring intently in front of him. Around him, many others, of different races, ages, and genders, milled about, but all of their eyes were fixated on the same thing. A wall. An extremely large, marble wall, around 7 to 8 meters in height, but a length that stretched so far that it disappeared into the distance. This was the wall that separated the Inner and Middle parts of Penbrook City, the central capitol of a human-ruled planet, Planet Gaia.

However, it also served a different purpose, one that most visitors have come to this wall for. Etched deep into the marble wall, lining the wall from top to bottom and side to side, was names. Not just any names, but rather the names of fallen soldiers, who 'bravely' fought for humanity and the Galactic Federation. Of course, just this wall alone was not enough to fill even a fraction of the casualties caused by the ongoing war. Rather, this wall was just one of many situated in various human-governed planets that served to remind the populace of the various sacrifices and to honor those who died.

But to the young man, it felt more like a cruel reminder. A reminder from the Federation that no matter how much you struggle, your inevitable fate will be to another casualty; another name written on the memorial wall. A reminder that you are human. As the young man pondered in silence, he felt the bench he was sitting on shift underneath another person's weight.

The young man's grey eyes flickered to the right, attempting to see who came to join him in his contemplation. Next to the man, was an old, shaggy, and decrepit old man, who despite his unkempt appearance, seemed to hold an unfathomable depth within his eyes. The young man looked him over for a while, before returning his gaze to the memorial wall, lost in thought.

His pondering was once again broken, however, as the old man's raspy voice began to sound out. "Are you satisfied?"

"Huh?" The young man replied, bewildered.

"I asked if you were satisfied. Are you content with your place in the universe? Do you accept your inevitable fate? To be used as just another expendable cannon fodder? For your only contribution to life to be just another statistic; another name for people to idly glance over and forget about."

The young man sighed, before replying. "I heard you. It's just... what a way to start a conversation. But alright, I'll humor you. It's something I've been thinking about, after all. To be brutally honest... I'm pissed. When I look at this wall, I don't feel sadness, or even fear. Just pure anger. At those Federation assholes. At all those other superpowers that keep this meaningless war going. And at us, for being so damn weak."

"So... given the opportunity, would you change it? What would you do, given a group of like-minded individuals and the chance to change it all?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'd get stronger. Way, way stronger. And when I've finally become strong enough, I'd walk straight up to those bastards up at the top, and beat the shit out of them until they stop this meaningless war."

"How idealistic," the old man scoffed.

The young man simply smiled to himself. "I know. Of course, it'd never be that easy. Even if I beat up every person in the Federation's top brass, there's no guarantee the war would even end. In reality, we'd probably just end up losing. With the state of the cosmos right now, ending this war seems damn near impossible. But, at the end of the day, if no one tries, we'll never know for sure right? For me... I'll never be satisfied. Not until I end this shit. And when it's all said and done, I'll engrave my name in history. I'll make sure my name is remembered, until the end of time."

Contrary to his previous reaction, the old man now let out a strong, hearty laugh. He remained in this state, guffawing for a solid thirty seconds, before he finally calmed down. "Pfft. Big words for such a weakling. But, I like your enthusiasm. What's your name, kid?"

At this time, the young man finally fully turned his head towards the old man, revealing his appearance to the old man. With black hair and gray eyes that framed a lean yet not fully mature face, the young man could be considered decently good-looking by most metrics. Yet it was the air of natural confidence that drew most's attention. Revealing a slight grin, the young man finally replied, "My name? It's Jiwon Li. Nice to meet you, old man."

The old man smiled back, putting his hand on Jiwon's head and replying, "Jiwon, huh? Nice to meet you too. Maybe we'll meet again someday."

And then he saw black.