Legacy of the Pantheruos

War. War always changes

War. War always changes.

In the past, my great-great grandfather, serving in the panther army, wondered when he'd get to go home to his wife and the son he'd never seen back on our home world planet Pantheruos. He got his wish, when our Emperor ended the Galactic World War VI by dropping himself and Special Forces on the enemy's capital.

The galaxy awaited Armageddon; instead, something miraculous happened with our world. We began to use atomic energy not as a weapon, but as a nearly unlimited source of power.

Our people enjoyed luxuries once thought the realm of science fiction. Domestic robots, fusion-powered vehicles, portable computers, and many, many more. But then, people awoke from the dream.

The entire world unraveled into a class system for power scaling and intelligence scaling.

There was the Warrior Class; powerful strength, speed, fast healing factor, fast flight speed, and high durability. But low to mid intelligence.

While the Support Class; is highly intelligent, but lacks the power and speed.

But there is one class that is the result of both Warrior and Support offspring. Or in other words, if the two classes made a child together. The Reach Class; both power and intelligence.

Peace became new. It is now the year 4577. We stand on the brink of total peace, and I am afraid. For myself, for my friends, for my family – because if my time in during military academy taught me one thing: it's that war, war always changes.

My name is Tony Towson. Nineteen years old. Dark-skin man. Black twisted Hair. Tall. Black panther ears. Black panther tail. And just getting up from bed.

Today is my graduation and I'm planning on meeting with my pain in the ass classroom leader/neighbor/childhood friend, Yemeni Gene. A girl who is always a time keeper and strict.

Right now I'm just finishing my journal entry. And this.

Is my story.

3rd Pov

Tony Towson rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he emerged from his room. The sun streamed through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the room. He stretched, feeling the familiar pull of his black panther tail. The early morning ritual was a small comfort, a reminder of home in the midst of the academic pressures that had been his life for the past few years.

His mother's voice rang out again, this time with an edge of impatience. "T! If you don't hurry up, you're going to be late!"

Tony shook his head with a wry smile and grabbed his uniform jacket from the chair. It was decorated with the emblem of the Galactic Military Academy: a silver crest with a roaring panther at its center. As he dressed, he glanced around his small, tidy room—a stark contrast to the chaotic scenes he often imagined from the war stories of his ancestors.

Downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread filled the air. Tony's mother was bustling around the kitchen, her black hair pulled back into a tight bun, her expression a mix of pride and anxiety. She glanced up as Tony entered, her eyes softening.

"Morning, T," she said, setting a plate of breakfast on the table. "Are you excited about today?"

"Morning, Mom," Tony replied, sitting down. "Yeah, I guess. A bit nervous too. Graduation's a big deal."

She nodded, handing him a cup of coffee. "You've worked hard for this. Just remember to enjoy the day, okay? And try not to let Yemeni drive you too crazy."

Tony chuckled, knowing full well that Yemeni's obsession with punctuality and perfection was as predictable as it was relentless. Yemeni Gene had been his friend and rival since childhood, and while her strict nature often irked him, he couldn't help but respect her dedication.