Arman Bruno was about to disembark the Metro Hyper Train two and a half hours late for his first day as a recruit, of which he had no idea. The interlocking doors of the passenger cabins shifted and unsealed, revealing a shimmering, white metallic platform in front. An enclosure of glass and polished steel wrapped the station like a geometric dome; each of its triangle shaped components glimmered softly above the passengers. As soon as the sliding doors opened, Arman was greeted by the cold, seaside breeze gushing through the open balcony of the platform; the smell of pure, unfiltered briny air captivated his senses as he walked slowly towards the balcony, which was completely empty. He was confused for the most part as he crossed the retails shops and charging stations that cluttered the pristine station. How could anyone just run around here without appreciating the beauty of the sea? He thought to himself as he reached the open veranda. Arman felt a feeling of relief that he had never felt in a very long time as he stared blankly into the open seas, while his hands grasped firmly on the stainless steel railing clamped across the curvature of the balcony. He took another deep breath, letting the new memory of the sea dissolve all the pain the war had brought him.

"Beautiful, aint she?" An old man standing from behind asked Arman.

"What?" He replied to the man who, Arman guessed, would be around in his late sixties but his frame looked too well built for an aging senior citizen.

"I said the sea is beautiful, ain't she?" The old man spoke the second time as he stroke his lush white beard.

"Yes. It is very beautiful," Arman replied as he stared at him with a puzzled look, listening intently as the man continued his part of the conversation.

" I remember, when I was a kid, I'd play around the harbor, well you know, back then the water was dirty. I mean, really filled with garbage. But that's what we had back then and we made the most out of it. We swam in it, dove for some shells to sell..." The old man sputtered on as he looked at Arman, waiting for young man's face to show disinterest to his ramblings, but the exact opposite met him.

Arman was genuinely interested in what he had to say, with eyes full of anticipation, which fascinated the bearded elderly.

"Well, now look at it now," the old man resumed. "Full of life and free from whatever memories it had before."

Arman then glanced back and admired the view of the sea once again. "I used to hate the sea, you know," Arman responded. "Because of the war and all. It took everything from me. And now that I'm here, I can't help but feel at awe of it's greatness, like the vast openness of the waters seems to fade into eternity."

The old man, leaning towards the balcony ledge listened closely to the young man from the slums.

"It's funny, you know. One minute I'm spending my morning sweeping the factory floor, and the next minute I'm staring at the sea as a certified citizen."

"So you're one of those, huh?" The old man smiled at Arman. "You're a recruit, aren't you?"

"Yes," Arman nodded. "Just about to start my orientation in a few hours. Arman looked at his watch and saw the short arrow pointed at five and the long one pointed at twelve.

Arman's stomach dropped ten feet as he finally realized why the train's cabin was half empty. It was ten minutes past ten. His breathing became erratic while his hand trembled incessantly, shuddering the metal rails of the balcony ledge." Oh God..." Arman muttered under his erratic breath. "I'm so late! Oh God! What did I do?!" He shouted at his broken watch, seemingly trying to transmit his own rage to the timepiece so it could turn back time. After a few moments, Arman dropped down to the floor looking noticeably defeated. The old man, who had been quietly gleaning at Arman broke a hint of smile.

"I would guess you've missed your chance as a recruit, huh?" the mansaid to Arman.

"Yeah. Thank you for the reminder... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap back at you. It's just... I mean... This was suppose to be my way out. But I guess it doesn't matter now."

The old man stroked his beard gently as he spoke. "Why did you want to be in the division in the first place? Well, I guess for you it would be the privileges, right? I mean, becoming a..."

Arman cut off the old man's lecture halfway through. " I wanted to know what it felt like." "What?" The confused man asked Arman.

"I mean..." Arman continued. " I wanted to know why someone, anyone, would serve and give their life, for the service or what have you. I don't know. I just feel like I needed to be part of this. You know, my parents were in the division when the war began. They could've stayed here in the Metro and patrolled the coastlines but they decided they needed to venture far off into the West Sea along with the hundreds of thousands that died in the incursions. They were once famous, you know. Called themselves the Knives of..."

"Senaya," the old man added. " The Knives of Senaya. Those two were your parents, huh? They were some nasty aquanauts back in the day. Damn near saved the whole West Sea, if you ask me. Tell me, what's your name?"

"Armando Bruno, Arman for short, Mister..."

"Call me Isagani."

"Nice to meet you, Isagani."

"And you too, boy." The man put his hand firmly on Arman's shoulder and whispered. "Everything's going to be okay."

As soon as Isagani said his words, a couple of men dressed in dark clothes came running towards the old man. Isagani, sensing the men's presence might alarm the boy, held up his hand towards them, stopping them in their tracks. The old man named Isagani then looked back at Arman one last time.

"You better go on ahead to the Naval base, young Arman. I bet you they'll still take you in." He smiled then walked back into the platform of the station along with the two men guarded him closely at a distance. "So long, young Arman. Til we meet again." Isagani faded into the sea of commuters inside the brightly lit station. Arman picked himself up and carried his bags towards the nearest station exit. I guess it won't hurt to try, Arman thought to himself as he quickly paced the station floor.

The Metro Harbor Point Station was the largest station in the city. Thousands of citizens and seafarers alike commute here to gain access to the exclusive West Sea territory. As far as Arman could remember, Harbor Point had always been an over-populated place full of merchants, soldiers, and tourists from all over. Now, it's riddled with shipyards and other naval facilities because of the ever growing need for more maritime stability in the region. Arman Bruno ran passed all of them in the hopes of still getting accepted in the Aseatic Defense Division. Once he got to the gates, he showed the guards on duty his letter and they led him straight to the Officer on Duty: Lieutenant Andreus de Sol, the officer in charge of the 24th Division. The guards pointed towards the dark staircase leading up to the Officer's station. Arman knocked on the door sheepishly.

"Enter! Sit Down!" Shouted a voice inside. He quietly entered the Lieutenant's office and sat timidly in front of the desk as Lt. de Sol peered through a window while his back was against the obviously frightened would-be recruit.

"Why are you here?" He asked Arman.

"I would like to join the Division, sir."

The officer turned around and slammed his hands on to his metal desk to shout at the boy once more.

"I said why are you here, recruit?!"

"To serve the Division, sir!" Arman exclaimed as he jumped out of his chair and stood upright.

"You're three hours late! Why in the world should we entrust the ideals and God-given responsibilities of a true West Sea recruit to someone who could not be entrusted to tell time?!"

The Lieutenant's eyes burned through Arman's skull like a deathly gaze.

" I... I.." Arman stuttered.

"Well?! Answer me!" Lt. Andreus then shifted across his desk and stood directly infront of Arman.

"Answer me!" He shouted again.

" I want to give my life to the service! Sir!" He answered the officer.

"And what kind of life would you give me, huh? What can you make of yourself that can help The Cause, huh?"

"Anything you want me to be, sir!"

"Who do you serve, soldier?!" asked the officer.

Arman was confused and answered back, "You sir!"

"Wrong!" replied the Officer. "I ask you again, who do you serve?!"

Arman blurted out the only answer he could come up.

"The West Sea, Sir!"

"Correct!" said the officer. "Get your things and head down to the barracks. After that, you head on over to the medical bay for check up. Welcome to the 24th Aseatic Defense Division. Now stop your whimpering and move. I said move!"

Arman ran out the office and into the corridor towards the barracks. He had no time to smile now. The clamoring heavy footsteps of Draftee Arman Bruno echoed the hallways and back into the open door of Lieutenant del Sol, who seemed to have forgotten about the young recruit and was back in business with an important call. Armando Bruno, a recruit for the 24th Aseatic Defense Division, was given a second chance to serve a greater cause.

Somewhere outside the Metro Harbor Point Station, Isagani, along with the two men, headed back to the ship called the Mulawin, the most advanced warship of the New Republic. As soon as they were near the dock's platform, one of the men handed Isagani a coat with dozens of medals sewn into its surface; five distinct stars were embroidered on the back in a circular pattern. The old man wore the coat and called out the officer in charge of the platform in front of him.

"You. Yes you! Come over here and give me the dock phone."

The officer hands him the naval communications phone of the platform.

"Operator? Okay, so who's the officer in charge of the recruits? del Sol? Yeah, he's one of mine. Tell him a recruit named Armando Bruno will be joining the training and I would very much like it if he could accept him. No, that's right. Armando Bruno. Tell him to let the boy join. Yeah, I know recruitments over. I know it's way past deadline. Just tell him, okay? Look, who's the Fleet Admiral in this conversation, you or me? Yeah, that's right. Don't tell me the rules, I wrote half of them. Now do as your told and tell that to del Sol, alright?"

Fleet Admiral Isagani Amihan, the hero of the 1st West Sea War hanged up the phone and boarded the warship Mulawin.

***Thanks for taking the time to read my work. It would really mean a lot if you could leave some comments as I would like to hear what you have to say about the chapter. You can also vote and share this to your friends and help spread the story of The West Sea.***