Kotario

Humanity is caught in a great upheaval after the Intergalactic Union of All Species coincidentally discovers their existence on what they had formerly considered to be the fringe of the universe. 

Without any say in the matter, they get indicted into the Union as a legal member. Unfortunately, this meant that they were now obligated to partake in the exploration of a new Chaotic Realm parallel to their universe containing rich energies, resources, and essence that the universe itself craved.

To that end, the universe has created its own will, which seeks to gather all races and strengthen warriors from them to explore the dangerous but lucrative Chaotic Realm, initiating the Augmented Reality simulation, Essence.

In Essence, one can experience a carefully crafted universe similar to an RPG game, either by going in through your soul or going in through VR. The former means that death is true, and the latter is similar to a normal FIVR experience.

Those who go in with their souls can freely receive feedback from their 'game characters' to obtain all stats, skills, and items they acquire in Essence, while those who go in with VR do not obtain that benefit.

However, those who pay for it in Essence can receive an awakening of genetic talent called abilities. These abilities are graded from F to EX, a total of 10 stages.

Not much is expected from the human race when the first 100 participants get chosen at random from the public - a standard protocol - only for each one of them to awaken at least an A-grade ability.

Then, there was Damon Arnan, a young Ghanaian politician, who ended up awakening, not one, not two, but three EX-Grade Talents. 

The human race, which had just entered the galactic playground, was about to experience a storm with Damon smackdab in the middle.

Damon's Ascension

Damon smiled in a strange manner as he charged forward up the hill. He had picked up one of the sabers wielded by the slain soldiers, now gripping a weapon in each hand.

Above the lower incline of the hillock, at the peak of the small rise, twenty British soldiers held their ground in a tight formation, rifles braced against their shoulders as they fired in disciplined succession.

Each shot cracked through the battlefield like the snapping of a whip, followed swiftly by the hiss of powder smoke rising into the air. The soldiers worked in unison, reloading and firing with the precision of a well-oiled machine while the five logistics staff assigned to their squad were being overworked, collecting used rifles and granting new ones while reloading the old ones.

The redcoats closest to the rear crouched behind crude fortifications, mostly sandbags and hastily stacked crates, their expressions stern beneath the shadow of their helmets.

Frontal Assault 3