The Allbright System - A Sci-Fi Progression LitRPG Story

They’re made for the battlefield.

Forged from actual combat-grade metals, shaped to survive more than just glass cabinets.

And while some recipients do hang them up as keepsakes, waiting for retirement, most Marines know exactly what they’ve got in their hands: A tool; and a guarantee.

The lower-tier medals—Silver, Gold, even Platinum—don’t carry much weight in raw material value.

But trade one in? The UHF will pay handsomely.

Recognition of excellence always comes with its own perks, and plenty of Marines exchange their first medal for top-tier equipment, a spot in elite squads, or high-grade training modules.

But once you get into the rare stuff—Palladium, Crysium—you’re holding something else entirely.

Not just a trophy. A resource.

These are materials most Marines will never see outside a System Lecture.

Weapons forged with Crysium alloy are often considered heirloom-tier, and armor integrated with plating made of it? That’s the kind of protection Battlefield Aces get custom-commissioned from the Faction itself.

Which is why some Marines melt their medals down and reforge them into what they need most: A knife. A barrel. A reinforced plate to encase an overcharged powercell.

The possibilities are as endless as the Marine’s own creativity.

And yet… most don’t.

Most simply wear them. Slotted into the armor, just above the heart.

Because an MVM isn’t just about what you’ve done—it’s about where you’re headed.

See a Marine walking through the staging zone with a one-star Palladium medal implanted in their breastplate? You’re looking at someone officially recognized by the Brass as on track to become a Battlefield Ace.

You see a two-star Crysium? You’re looking at somebody with the potential to rival the greatest of the greats:

Witchglass.

Thunder Breaker.

Unbreakable Shield.

A Marine that’s been officially recognized to have what it takes to be added to that very list.

That’s what the stars mean.

That’s why there’s only one per type, per cluster, per quarter.

That’s why there’s only ever a few hundred of them being handed out at most, across the entire galaxy, in any given year.

Wearing an MVM medal isn’t just an arrogant flex.

It’s a UHF-sanctioned declaration.

Seeing that shimmer on someone’s chest means you're looking at a future legend.

A Faction-certified problem—the kind Command will one day deploy to end wars.

And our enemies know it too.

That’s the risk you take.

MVM medals draw attention, paint targets.

If you’re wearing one in combat, everyone with a scope, blade, or grudge is gunning for you.

Not out of respect, or even disrespect.

But out of fear.

Because a one-star MVM wielder might just become the Marine who puts down your entire forward line in the next deployment.

A two-star? That’s the signed death warrant of the entirety of a future Battlefield, if left unchecked.

But that’s the point.

They weren’t just made to reward greatness. They were made to provoke it.

To push every Marine a step further. To ask the question, every mission, every fight: “Do you want it bad enough to be the next name carved into UHF history?”

And if the answer’s yes? Then wear it proud.

Because every shot aimed at that medal is one more chance to prove exactly why you earned it in the first place.

So… Let them come.

Let them try their best.

Let them break themselves upon you, despite it.

Let them be the kindling that fuels your fire to set the whole damn galaxy ablaze.

Because the medal isn’t just a trophy—it’s a promise:

“I’m not fully here yet. But I’m coming. And you better pray for the Emperor’s own mercy, that you're not there anymore when I arrive.”

[UHF High-Marshal Myra “Godeyes” Veltros, 2x 2-Star Crysium MVM Recipient, PFC922]