Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner - Chapter 474

Chapter 474: The Eclipse begins

Six hours. Six hours was all they were given and boy did it come quick.

The transport cart moved through the Ark’s corridors in silence, carrying Team 7 toward a decision that would define the rest of their lives. Noah watched the metal walls pass by, feeling the weight of those six hours pressing against his chest like a physical thing. They’d talked, argued, sat in heavy silence, and somehow arrived at the same conclusion without needing to say it aloud.

The tribunal chamber doors opened with that same finality as before, revealing the austere space designed to remind everyone of military authority’s absolute power. The gallery was packed again, more observers than yesterday, word having spread that Team 7’s verdict was coming down today.

They took their positions at the defense table, standing at attention while the commanders filed in behind them. Mei, Cassandra, Volkov, and Brooks all wore expressions that suggested they’d spent the entire six hours fighting battles Team 7 hadn’t witnessed.

The side door opened and the three tribunal members entered in formation. Admiral Kross, General Thorne, and Colonel Ashford took their elevated seats with practiced precision, the weight of judgment settling over the chamber like a shroud.

“This tribunal reconvenes to deliver verdict on the charges against Pathfinder Team 7,” Admiral Kross said, activating the recording systems. “Let the record show all parties present. October 18th, 2076, 1100 hours Standard Earth Calendar.”

She consulted her tablet briefly before continuing. “The charges: desertion, unauthorized military operations, and negligent destruction of inhabited planetary bodies. The accused have been present for all proceedings and provided testimony regarding their actions over the five-week period in question.”

General Thorne leaned forward. “Before we proceed to sentencing recommendations, the defense has requested to present additional testimony. Commander Beaumont?”

Cassandra stood, and Noah noticed something in her posture that suggested she was about to do something risky. “Admiral, with your permission, we’d like to submit testimony from personnel at Vanguard Station regarding the accused’s character and service record.”

Admiral Kross’s expression showed mild curiosity. “We’ve already reviewed their service records extensively, Commander.”

“Not their documented records, Admiral. Their impact on the station culture and their fellow recruits.” Cassandra gestured to Brooks, who activated a holographic display. “We’ve compiled statements from recruits who’ve served alongside Team 7. With your permission, we’d like to present them now.”

The tribunal exchanged glances, then Kross nodded. “Proceed.”

The holographic display flickered to life, showing the face of a young recruit Noah recognized from Team 3. Jackson, the guy who’d shouted encouragement when they were leaving the station.

“I’m Recruit Jackson Reeves, Team 3,” the recording began. “I’ve been at Vanguard Station for a few months. When I first arrived, I was terrified. The training was brutal, the expectations were impossible, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the first week.”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Then I watched Team 7 train. Not just Noah Eclipse, though he’s obviously incredible. All of them. They pushed each other, supported each other, and never gave up even when facing odds that should have broken them. Sophie Reign helped me understand probability calculations that were destroying my tactical assessments and out field decision making. She’s the best young leader I have ever met. Kelvin Pithon spent three hours fixing my combat scanner when I’d accidentally fried it. Diana Frost showed me momentum techniques that improved my combat scores by forty percent.”

Jackson’s voice grew stronger. “Team 7 made us all better. They set a standard that we all wanted to reach. If they’re guilty of anything, it’s making the rest of us realize what we could become if we actually tried.”

The recording switched to another recruit, a girl from Team 5 that Noah had trained with occasionally. “I’m Sarah Chen, Team 5. Lucas Grey once told me that being a soldier wasn’t about following orders blindly. It was about understanding why you fight and who you’re protecting. He said the moment you forget that, you become a weapon instead of a protector.”

She looked directly at the camera. “Team 7 never forgot why they fight. Everything they did, even the unauthorized stuff, was about protecting people. That’s not desertion. That’s being exactly the kind of soldier humanity needs.”

More faces appeared, one after another, each recruit providing testimony about moments Team 7 had impacted their training, their understanding of what it meant to serve, their belief in what they were fighting for.

“Noah Eclipse sparred with me for two weeks straight to help me overcome my fear of close combat.”

“Sophie Reign explained strategy in ways that actually made sense instead of just memorizing protocols.”

“Kelvin Pithon built custom equipment for half the station because he couldn’t stand seeing people struggle with substandard gear.”

“Diana Frost is the toughest person I’ve ever met, and she taught me that toughness isn’t about never showing weakness. It’s about getting back up every time you fall.”

The testimonials continued, a cascade of voices from recruits across multiple teams, all echoing the same message. Team 7 wasn’t just a high-performing unit. They were the heart of what Vanguard Station was supposed to represent.

The final recording showed what looked like the entire common area of the station, packed with recruits. Someone had organized them into a group statement.

“We are the Vanguard Initiative,” they said in unison, dozens of voices blending together. “We’re training to protect humanity from threats that want to destroy everything we’ve built. Team 7 embodies that mission better than any of us. They deserve recognition, not punishment. They deserve our support, not our judgment. Whatever you decide today, know that we stand with them.”

The holographic display faded, leaving the tribunal chamber in heavy silence.

Noah felt something tight in his chest loosen slightly. In the six hours they were given to decide, the commanders had done this. Had gone back to Vanguard Station and rallied the entire recruit population to speak for them. Had fought harder than Team 7 had realized.

Admiral Kross was quiet for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she cleared her throat. “The tribunal appreciates the defense’s… creative approach to character testimony. It’s clear that Team 7 has made a significant impact on their peers.”

She exchanged glances with Thorne and Ashford, some unspoken communication passing between them.

“However,” Kross continued, her voice carrying that weight of military authority again, “character testimony does not negate the violations committed. The charges stand. Which brings us to sentencing.”

She activated her own display, projecting the deal they’d been given six hours ago. “The tribunal has authorized a conditional offer that recognizes both the severity of your violations and your value as military assets. Commander Brooks, please read the terms for the record and the gallery’s benefit.”

Brooks stood, her voice steady despite the tension radiating through the chamber. She read through each article again, the words carrying the same weight they had at dawn. One person takes the fall. The rest accept separation, probation, restrictions, constant evaluation. Accept the chains or face decades in prison.

When she finished, the silence was absolute.

“Team 7,” Admiral Kross said formally, “you have heard the terms. The tribunal requires your unanimous decision. Do you accept these conditions, or do you refuse and face full prosecution?”

Noah felt his teammates shift beside him, felt the weight of every eye in the chamber focused on them, waiting for surrender or defiance.

He stood up slowly, his chair scraping against the polished floor with a sound that seemed impossibly loud.

“Admiral,” Noah said, his voice carrying clearly through the acoustically designed space, “I invoke Article 47, Combat Service Exemption.”

The chamber erupted in shocked whispers. Admiral Kross’s eyes widened fractionally. General Thorne leaned forward sharply. Even Colonel Ashford looked surprised.

“Recruit Eclipse,” Kross said slowly, “do you understand what you’re invoking?”

“Yes, Admiral. Article 47 states that any soldier who has performed exceptional service in defense of humanity may request voluntary discharge with honors if certain criteria are met. I’ve engaged and neutralized a two-horned Harbinger twice, a three horn once and a four horn designated Kruel. I’ve participated in operations that resulted in the rescue of two million civilians or more. I believe I qualify.”

Sophie stood next, snapping to attention beside him. “I invoke Article 47, Combat Service Exemption.”

Kelvin was next, his usual humor completely absent. “I invoke Article 47, Combat Service Exemption.”

Diana sighed deeply, then stood with a wry smile touching her lips. “Fuck it. I invoke Article 47, Combat Service Exemption.”

They stood together, four soldiers staring at the tribunal with identical expressions of calm determination. The gallery had gone from whispers to complete silence, everyone processing what was happening.

Commander Lein’s voice was barely a whisper. “They’re quitting.”

Article 47 was rarely invoked because the criteria were so strict. A soldier had to prove exceptional service beyond normal duty requirements. They had to demonstrate that their contributions to humanity’s defense warranted release from mandatory service obligations. It was designed for veterans who’d given everything and deserved the choice to walk away.

The tribunal couldn’t refuse if the criteria were met. It was military law, written into the EDF’s founding documents to prevent the organization from becoming a prison that held its best soldiers hostage.

“This is highly irregular,” General Thorne said, though his voice lacked its usual authority. He was processing the legal implications, realizing they’d been outmaneuvered.

“But legal,” Colonel Ashford said quietly, consulting her own tablet. “Their service records support the claim. Kruel alone qualifies Eclipse. The missions on Sirius system and Nebular evacuation qualifies all of them. We can’t deny this.”

Admiral Kross looked at the four young soldiers standing before her, then at the commanders who’d clearly been blindsided by this decision, then at the gallery full of observers witnessing military law being invoked in the most dramatic way possible.

“If you invoke Article 47,” she said slowly, “you’re choosing to leave the Earth Defense Force entirely. No probation, no restrictions, but also no support, no resources, no authority. You become civilians. Is that your intention?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Noah replied.

“All of you?”

“Yes, Admiral,” they said in unison.

Kross sat back in her elevated seat, and Noah could see her working through the political calculations. If she denied this, she’d be violating military law in front of witnesses. If she accepted it, the EDF lost four of its most valuable assets. Either way, she’d been backed into a corner.

“Very well,” she said finally. “The tribunal acknowledges your invocation of Article 47. Pending verification of service criteria, which will be completed within twenty-four hours, you will be granted honorable discharge from the Earth Defense Force with full recognition of your contributions to humanity’s defense.”

She gestured to the commanders. “Prepare the discharge paperwork. Team 7 is dismissed from these proceedings.”

They saluted in perfect unison, the movement crisp and military despite the fact that they’d just quit. Then they turned and walked out of the tribunal chamber, boots striking the polished floor in synchronized rhythm.

The gallery erupted in conversation behind them, but Noah didn’t look back. They’d made their choice. The rest was just bureaucracy.

The commanders followed them into the corridor, their expressions mixing shock with something that might have been pride.

“You actually did it,” Cassandra said quietly. “You quit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Noah replied.

Volkov shook his head slowly. “You realize we’re probably going to be discharged for this? The tribunal will want scapegoats, and we’re the obvious choice.”

Team 7 stopped walking, turning to face their former instructors properly. They saluted again, the gesture carrying genuine respect.

“We’re sorry,” Sophie said. “For the trouble we’ve caused. For the risk to your careers. You fought harder for us than we deserved.”

Mei smiled sadly. “You deserved every bit of it. And honestly? I think you made the right choice. The EDF has forgotten what it’s supposed to be protecting. Maybe it needs people like you operating outside its structure to remember.”

“What will you do now?” Brooks asked.

Noah met her eyes. “Continue fighting. Lucas is still out there. Bruce Hilton is still out there. King Aurelius is still out there. The Eighth is still operating. The Purge hasn’t been eliminated. And the Harbingers are still trying to exterminate humanity. Just because we’re not wearing EDF uniforms doesn’t mean we’re done protecting people.”

Cassandra nodded slowly. “Your transport to Earth is waiting in Bay 7. It’s been authorized for immediate departure. Go before the bureaucrats realize what just happened and try to complicate things.”

They saluted one final time, then headed toward the docking bays. The commanders watched them go, four young soldiers walking away from the institution that was supposed to define their lives, choosing their own path instead.

Hours later, they were back at Vanguard Station for the last time, collecting their personal belongings and preparing for final departure. Word had spread impossibly fast. Team 7 had invoked Article 47. Team 7 was leaving. Team 7 had won but also lost.

The corridors were packed with recruits as they made their way toward the departure bay, their bags slung over shoulders, wearing civilian clothes instead of uniforms. It felt strange, being out of military dress after months of nothing else.

Then someone started clapping.

The sound spread like wildfire through the crowd, recruits applauding as Team 7 walked past. Not everyone was happy about it. Some looked confused, others disapproving. But most were clapping, showing support for the team that had somehow become the station’s heart.

Diana spotted her in the crowd and Noah followed her gaze. Lyra stood near the back, not clapping, just watching with that emotionless expression she wore so well.

Diana’s hand came up, middle finger extended in a gesture that needed no translation. Lyra’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her eyes before she looked away.

They boarded their transport, a mid-sized civilian vessel that would carry them back to Earth. The engines began their startup sequence, that familiar hum building toward departure thrust.

As the ship lifted off and Vanguard Station began shrinking in the viewport, Kelvin broke the silence that had settled over them.

“Well, that all happened fast,” he said, staring out at the stars. “Now what? We become plumbers?”

Diana snorted, a wry smile touching her lips. “This isn’t 2024, otherwise I’d have opened an OnlyFans account. Selling nudes as a twenty-year-old veteran. Would have made a fortune.”

Sophie actually laughed at that. “I was thinking about agriculture. Starting a farm somewhere quiet. Growing things instead of destroying them.”

Noah turned from the viewport to face his team. “They are all great ideas except the OF one. However, sadly, this isn’t the end. Not of our fighting, at least. Lucas is out there. Bruce Hilton is out there. King Aurelius is out there. The Eighth is still looming. The Purge is still looming. And worst of all, the Harbingers are still out there.”

Kelvin’s eyes widened. “That’s a long list.”

“For sure it is,” Noah agreed, his expression growing determined. “But it means we’re a long way away from retiring.”

He turned to face them fully, a smile spreading across his face. “So, who’s itching for a fight? Because all that court hearing sure was making me bored.”

“Hell yeah!” they responded in unison, grins matching his own.

Sophie’s expression grew thoughtful. “What’s the plan?”

Noah’s smile took on an edge that suggested he’d been thinking about this for longer than just the past six hours. “The plan is to build an army. Not just any army. The kind no one would ever want to face in battle. The kind that would be nightmares to our nightmares.”

“I like the sound of that,” Diana said immediately. “I’m second in command.”

They started talking over each other, joking about roles and responsibilities, the energy in the transport shifting from uncertain to excited. Sophie suggested recruitment strategies. Diana volunteered to handle combat training. The conversation flowed naturally, like they were planning a school project instead of creating an independent military force.

Kelvin had been quiet during all of this, just listening while the others talked. Noah noticed his friend’s silence and was about to ask if something was wrong when Kelvin spoke.

“Wait.” His voice was quiet, almost uncertain. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Everyone stopped talking, turning to look at him.

Kelvin’s expression shifted from thoughtful to shocked to something approaching manic excitement. “Noah. Noah, are you actually trying to create a faction?”

His voice started rising gradually, building toward something that sounded like barely controlled hysteria mixed with pure joy.

“Is this the point in our story where we go off on our own to build a faction that rivals where we left?!” He was standing now, pacing the small transport cabin. “Because Noah, my dear friend, you must have a fetish for fulfilling my own fantasies for me!”

He jumped, throwing his hands in the air with genuine enthusiasm. “Hear ye, hear ye universe! Today, the Eclipse Faction is born!”

His shout echoed through the transport, and for a moment everyone just stared at him. Then Sophie started laughing, genuine and bright. Diana joined in, her usual stoic demeanor cracking into something approaching joy. Noah felt his own laughter building, the absurdity and perfection of the moment hitting him all at once.

They’d quit the military. They’d walked away from everything they’d trained for. They’d become civilians with no support, no resources, and a list of enemies that included cosmic horrors and ancient conspiracies.

And somehow, impossibly, Kelvin had just named what they were becoming.

The Eclipse Faction.

End of this Ark.

Thanks for reading. looking forward to the next ark