Synaptic Link

--June 11, 2043, Hong Kong, China, Shatterdome--

"Simulated connection commencing. Synaptic Link will activate in 10 seconds. Pilots, prepare yourselves."

The cold, synthesized female voice cut through the air, calming Rosen's anxious nerves.

He gazed up at the dark silver metal ceiling, took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and relaxed his body, quietly awaiting the impending impact.

"Initiating connection."

As the words fell, Rosen's temples throbbed. It felt as if a needle had pierced his brain, and then, countless images surged in like a tide.

Synaptic Link is a peculiar thing, but it's an experience only possible with the first five generations of Jaegers. From the sixth generation onwards, the Synaptic Link connects pilots to the Kaiju's already formatted, blank brains. What Rosen could see was simply his own life.

2020: Rosen was born.

On the same day, his parents were killed in a Kaiju attack.

His cries lasted for two full days and nights until people finally dug him out of the rubble.

After seven turbulent years, Rosen met his mentor, that stubborn and somewhat rebellious old man—Raleigh Beckett.

And he was the one who set Rosen on a path to fight God.

"Sometimes, insignificant humans simply can't fight God. Like now, with the storm raging, all you can do is take cover. But once you become a Jaeger pilot, you become strong enough to fight against the storm. Even when facing God, you'll have a chance."

This was something Raleigh often said, and Rosen naturally held it as truth.

As for Rosen's name... it no longer needs explanation, does it? In the second year after meeting his mentor, Rosen changed his name to the first syllables of their names combined.

Now, his mentor had sacrificed himself gloriously, but Rosen would inherit his ambition and continue to explore this path until humanity's victory arrived.

"Synchronization rate... 53%. Pilot's emotional fluctuations detected. Mental connection forcibly offline. Kunlun simulation initiating... failed."

Before Rosen's memories could conclude, the synthesized female voice rudely interrupted him.

Rosen rubbed his eyes and stepped down from the simulator, a sense of disappointment washing over him. He stared at the four bright red characters "TEST FAILED" on the public screen, his eyes flickering. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, the words never came out.

"Rosen, third simulated connection failed. Cadet status downgraded to Reserve Cadet."

Beside the simulator, a staff member in military uniform, while recording in a notebook, announced the result expressionlessly...

The other cadets around them, upon hearing this, covered their mouths and began whispering amongst themselves.

Rosen paid them no mind. He merely sighed softly, removed his lab coat, packed his belongings, and walked away from the simulator room. The murmurs gradually subsided as Rosen departed.

Rosen wasn't cold-blooded. He understood joy and sorrow, and when those strange glances converged on him, he felt a surge of blood essence in his chest.

But that was all.

He didn't intend to fight back or retort, as he had no desire to waste his time on such matters.

The beginning of all this stemmed from an accident not long ago.

Two years prior, Rosen participated in the pilot selection trials for the seventh-generation Jaeger—J35VII Kunlun. A year later, he secured the pilot rights for Kunlun with an outstanding score of 92% synchronization rate in the simulator, achieving a perfect score. However, he never anticipated that disaster would follow.

Rosen's first Synaptic Link with Kunlun failed. To be precise, it was an accident.

The moment the Synaptic Link system connected, Rosen inexplicably fainted. Kunlun, standing 145 meters tall, nearly activated its right-hand Cloud-Mist High-Pressure Magnetic Storm Ring. This incident plunged the entire base into a red alert crisis.

Subsequently, Kunlun was temporarily decommissioned. To this day, Rosen still doesn't know the reason for his collapse that day.

Furthermore, over the following year, Rosen's mental level plummeted drastically, dropping to an incomprehensible level—from 92% to 53%.

Do you know, the brains of seventh-generation Jaegers are blank. They have no independent consciousness. Even a dog could achieve a 60% synchronization rate with Kunlun.

His rank was consequently demoted three times: Pilot—Reserve Pilot—Pilot Candidate—Official Cadet.

Oh, right, including the one from a minute ago, it should be four times.

Rosen is now merely a Reserve Cadet. If he fails to successfully initiate even one simulated connection, he will remain a Reserve Cadet for the rest of his life.

"..."

Rosen walked down the corridor with a blank expression, the rhythmic tap of his boots echoing. Those who passed him wore a myriad of expressions—scorn, indifference, pity. Yet, no one could discern what lay hidden beneath Rosen's stern facade.

"Hey, Rosen!"

A voice suddenly called out to him. It was a woman's voice, and anyone who heard it would immediately recognize its owner.

People turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Indeed, the person they had in mind appeared at the end of the corridor.

Where everyone's gaze was focused, a girl of about 15 was running with an air of confidence. She was of Eurasian descent, with fair skin and black hair that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a brown sleeveless vest over a pair of athletic shorts, her form-fitting attire accentuating her budding figure.

In the corridor, several male cadets felt a pang of longing, but that was all—

Because this girl held an extremely special identity.

Her name was—Angie Beckett.

The daughter of humanity's hero—Raleigh Beckett, and Mako Mori.

This alone was enough to make countless male trainees stop in their tracks.

"Rosen, I'm calling you, why aren't you answering me?"

Angie, a little annoyed, squeezed in front of Rosen, hands on her hips, her mouth pouting. Although she was quite a bit shorter than Rosen, her presence was no less imposing.

"I still need to report my work to Dr. Newton." Rosen expressionlessly pushed Angie aside and continued walking forward. What he didn't know was that the mere act of him touching Angie had already drawn countless envious glances from those around them.

"Tch, so you failed, but you have to be like this? You're always researching machines, you won't even spar with me anymore..." Angie complained as she spoke, her tone full of resentment.

"It's precisely because I failed that I chose to research machines." Rosen still ignored Angie's protest, not even lowering his head. "I don't have spare time to waste on something that won't yield results."

Rosen wasn't lying; the briefcase he was holding contained a paper he had spent a week writing.

Seeing that Rosen was unmoved by either soft or hard tactics, Angie couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Can you really defeat Kaiju by researching machines?"

"Of course. Even though the framework of the seventh-generation Jaegers is made of silicon-based lifeforms, their internal circuits and weapons are still mechanically powered. Without mechanics, a so-called Jaeger is nothing but a corpse." Rosen finally lowered his head, looking at Angie with a serious expression. "Miss Angie, do you want to sit directly on top of your Jaeger—the Anshan—and cast a spell to control that corpse with puppet strings?"

"You... you..." Angie was rendered speechless by Rosen's lecture, a blush appearing on her fair cheeks. She stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

"Well then, excuse me."

Rosen nodded slightly and then quickly disappeared down the end of the corridor.

Looking at Rosen's somewhat desolate retreating figure, Angie hesitated for a moment before finally following him, her face completely red