《The God Faction Wars》 Chapter 1: Leon Winter Leon Winter¡¯s breaths were labored. He was exhausted but compelled to keep running. He counted his heartbeats, which slowed as his sprints increased: struggling to keep pace, with dust and dirt seeping through his dark cotton mouth scarf and caking the wide brim of his fedora hat. His muscles burned with an ache. If he hadn¡¯t trained his body to be a golden warrior for all of his twenty years of life, he would¡¯ve been caught by the biologically and mechanically enhanced humans determined to catch him. The true golden warriors. Many times he almost ran into one of their black metal ball-like aerial and ground drones. Hundreds swarmed his surroundings, eager to detect him and other refugee criminals. The chances of being caught were high and escape was slim; his life was on the line. In more ways than one. Days earlier, a warrior party had caught sight of him and others fleeing Tallow¡¯s Border: a state once known as Texas on old Earth maps. Thanks to his skills, he could deflect their trail by eliminating a few of the drones with crude gunshots to their single blue laser eyes. Primitive assault weapons were effective against GCE machines, and they didn''t leave a carbon ID. Magic was too flashy and not great for stealth. The reason for his plight was due to a sad twist of fate. It wasn¡¯t long ago that he wholeheartedly believed in the purpose of being a golden warrior, and the honor of being selected for the Biodroid Enhancement Program. But the honor became horror when his body enhancement operation was deemed a failure. His heart had been encased within a carbonized crystal substance, which released a slow poison into his bloodstream to starve him of oxygen. His old self would¡¯ve accepted the fate of incineration, which was the end result for all failing biodroids. But death for him couldn¡¯t come yet. The Golden Warriors, which he had previously admired, were no longer relevant to him. He had a purpose to fulfil. This purpose kept him running from their chase from Silicon Valley¡¯s Big Farma House factory, and across the desert canyons of nowhere. In order to keep functioning, he needed to feed on fresh blood every twenty-four hours to maintain his oxygen levels, but not from a human¡¯s. He fed on the warm blood of available small creatures with a hope that he¡¯d find a better solution for the problem when he reached HiRock. He used his non-digital wristwatch to track feeding times. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Golden warriors swarmed the corpse forests and desert plains like vermin in gold body armor. But an ant can slip through cracks where cockroaches can not. They gave chase through the thick and dense tree corpses, shrouded in heavy, foul-smelling mists and dust clouds. Their drones, scoping and scanning kits weren''t equipped to deal with the old Earth geological obstructions. Leon navigated the forest and crossed the crude barbwire border with a pair of laser cutting tools, scoping kit and his old fashion magnum 45''s docked in leather belt hip holsters. Dressed in old denim, workman boots, shirt and tie, and a hardy leather overcoat. One would think he was a cowboy of the old Earth 19th century western times. His attire was effective in surviving the harsh terrain. He left his tools behind and escaped without pause for the entire night. By morning, he stood on a cliff overlooking one of HiRock''s desert canyons; relishing nothing but the sound of the fierce winds to his back. HiRock. Once known as Mexico on old Earth maps. During the aftermath of the Pandemic Wars, which happened in the old world''s early twenty-first century, the Big Farma House organizations seized control of individual governments and declared a new golden age for mankind. Earth was rebranded as Atlas by the year 2069. It had been this way for a hundred years under the rule of the Global Confederate Empire (GCE). Old Mexico had renamed itself to be distinct from the empire. One of the last great freeholds for humanity: wild country near untouchable due to its natural, poison mist barriers and concealed electric barbed wire fences. While staring at the freeman''s desert-metal lands, his chest muscles ached with the familiar pangs of blood-oxygen starvation. Fortunately, a small, healthy, creature crossed his path. Swiftly, he scooped up the fox. "Forgive me, and thank you for gifting me with your life. May Gaia grace your afterlife with choice pastures," he said to the fox carcass when he gently laid it down and called upon his fire magic to turn it to ash and give it blessings back to the old Earth goddess he had come to believe in. He had escaped the GCE. His blood oxygen had been replenished for another 24 hours. He reset the small clock on his wristwatch to track time. Now he was set to fulfill his promise. Chapter 2: Lucy Black-Tank-Girl Lucy Black-Tank-Girl tapped one of her chunky black heels, on the edge of her military tank''s steering wheel. Her skinny legs, made long in knee-high boots fit for rugged terrain, were balanced on the dashboard. She eased back in her driver''s chair; enjoying the soothing punk rock music from a pocket-sized cassette player, which dated back to the late twentieth century. An ancient artifact that was her pride and joy aside from Bessy, her black military tank. The rest of her body was armored in fishnet (magic-resistant) stockings, leather shorts, a bullet, and magic-proof sleek long-sleeve white shirt, and a bottle-green vest sporting an emblem of an (A) within a circular silver band to her right breast. The emblem was proof she belonged to the Anti-Pope''s People Army. Adding to her character were silver rings on her pinkies and thumbs. Leather bracelets ran the length of her toned forearm. Her spiky shortcut brown hair was dotted with metal studs. A pair of silver loop earrings dangled about her ear lobes to give a frame to her pixie, heart-shaped, face and almond black eyes. She and her tank belonged to Scarf City''s army camp. For a good deal of her eighteen years of living, she was a ground soldier to work tanks, range weapons, and hand combat: having survived the camps beyond the age of fourteen, she was granted the honorary title of Black Tank. Hence, her Black-Tank-Girl surname. She turned up the volume on the device''s small speakers, relishing the ranting music. Since AntiPope Scavenge Crews had recovered punk music in the form of cassette tapes and vinyl records with intact devices to listen to them, peoples'' minds were opened to free-will thinking. Rebel songs, like ¡®Go Shove a Corker Up the Porker¡¯, empowered individuals. Her favorite riot tune was called, ¡®A Finger for Mr. Moron Bank Swinger.¡¯ It added to her badass attitude. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Punk Rock encouraged anarchy freedom: one of the core teachings of the Eleutherian Order, which governed HiRock. The order was led by the anti-pope. A highly respected person by all citizens. Although no book of laws was spouted to civilians, seven militia factions enforced the anti-pope''s will across the country: People Army, Scavenge Crew, Ministry of Truth, Our Lady of Light, Blacksmiths, Bards, and the Merchants'' Guild. The People''s Army was revered as an important group, since their job was hunting and eliminating mages and magic uses. The one spoken law known to all; magic was a crime to humanity. A sin spouted from GCE failures, ideals and their experimentation termed advancements. Anyone caught using magic was termed a traitor to mankind; worthy of incineration. "Lucy. Get yah tank in position. Located the bright spark in the dust tree valley bowl behind the village. I''m sending yah the coordinates." A wolfish male voice crackled into her tank space from an overhead radio. "Got it." She nodded at the digits on her dashboard monitor; flipped a leura coin about her hands, and grinned when the coin showed her the benevolent head of a woman on its nickel surface. HiRock''s patron deity was the goddess Eleutheria. "Heads. Looks like slay by tank fire it is." She chuckled, sat upright, and flipped a few overhead and dashboard switches to fire up the engines. The vehicle made a mellow roar as the tank''s caterpillar wheels began a crunching move across rocky terrain. Chapter 3: Amulet of Gaia Leon said a prayer over a small animal''s carcass before incinerating it to ash. He then reset the time on his watch and glanced up to a cloudless, drab sky. No signs of rain. Indeed, from his internal knowledge banks, HiRock hadn''t had any for over a decade. Yet, water was abundant in small rock ponds and streams derived from underground caches, which relied on sources from the distant mountain ranges and brooks connected to larger rivers and the faraway ocean. He spent some time picking and cleaning nearby aloe vera leaves to store in his hip satchel bag before heading out. Between blood-feeding, he ate plants, vegetables, nuts, and fruits to replenish and balance his minerals. Whatever was edible he gathered. Traveling in the daytime was taxing due to the arid climate. Fortunately, his mouth scarf retained moisture to ensure easier breathing, and the hat''s shade protected his pale face from sunburn. Eating the aloe vera further aided his endurance. Toward the early afternoon, the winds had eased during his trekking further inland. Dust clouds had settled to a minimum. Nighttime was cooler and more comfortable. He found a dry fissure to rest in and used the moment to revise his offline knowledge of the country and its people. "Magic is a sin, huh?" He sighed as he internally read a general wiki article. Probably just as well. Apart from the short sparks on animal carcasses, he wasn''t keen to use stronger spells. Doing so would devour a lot of his oxygen. He checked the time and coordinates on his watch. So far, he was able to avoid human contact, being on the outskirts. It was only a matter of time before he had some kind of run-in with a local. His current position placed him close to a small village on the outskirts of the first major settlement: Scarf City. Regardless, he had to make it to his promised destination. He pulled out and turned over a silver-gold amulet in his hands. It was a simple silver chain holding a circular gold charm. At the charm''s center was the pattern of a lotus flower in full bloom. A smile twitched on his thin lips at a rare fond memory and the time he had received the chain from the rare, kind elderly nurse at his house. She called the charm an Amulet of Gaia. As she was nursing him back to health from his enhancement failure, she told him the wonders of the goddess. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "Gaia is Our Mother of all life. Everything is connected to her. Our actions, thoughts, and choices are like threads looped and tied into each other as a webbed fabric covering the world. She guides our threads to ensure that we return what we take from her Earth; the world continues to exist. Man came before machines, yet we allowed them to rule our minds and disrespect Our Mother. We are not meant for this Golden Age. You are not meant for this, Leon." At first, he had been shocked by the old nurse''s words: for she had called the world, Earth. And spouted complete blasphemy. A conversation enough to condemn her before a re-education squad or be burned at the House of Trials'' High Fane pyres for heresy. It was her unwavering firmness behind her words that impressed him. She had obviously found inner strength in believing another truth at the end of her life and was willing to entrust it to him since he was facing his. But his death hadn''t happened that day. When she handed him the amulet, she granted him the ability to live with his illness, on the condition that he fulfilled a promise. He had learned that his malfunction was similar to hypoxemia, but he needed other blood cells to refill his own. Yet, he could eat as much non-animal life Gaia had placed before him to balance and restock other required minerals in-between the blood feeds. She had helped him escape the house compounds with all he needed to take off for HiRock. For the first time in his twenty years, he was facing another facet of the world on some other authority''s orders. Scared and excited would be an understatement. Nevertheless, he had a duty. One final warrior''s honor to a recent truth that he wholeheartedly accepted. He refitted the amulet around his neck and beneath his collar. Rechecked the bullet clips of his dirty-silver magnum 45 handguns. Docked them, then rested against the rock for shut-eye. Heavy, regular, droning snapped him to his senses. He woke alert and ready for action. The droning was drawing near. A methodical crunching of stone. "A tank?" He mused and used a bit of his micro-scans to survey the terrain, but it was tiring him, so he reverted to his natural sight. Carefully, he picked his way out of the rock fissure and into a corridor opening, where he faced a valley bowl filled with tree corpses and many rock boulder crops. Dust clouds gathered around the area. A heady stench of sulfur and iron wafted about his nose. Telltale signs of expelled magic and gunfire. Chapter 4: Hunt the Mage! Wheres My Pitch Fork, Bessy?! Lucy glanced at the cloudless sky from her tank console monitors. All she knew of the world was scorching drab skies, dry heat, dust, and, well, brownish nature. But beneath the desert rubble were the hearts of strong people, metaphorically speaking. Her people. Damned to hell, she would let the magic go wild in her territory and bring harm to others. Not that she had anything against mages themselves. They were probably decent enough peeps when being normal. Like the sorry-ass-mage, she and Wolf, her shock-troop partner, were chasing. The dude was likely a nice guy when wearing a different hat. But today he was wearing his mage hat and that was a big issue. See, magic was her problem. The side effect of a pandemic war vaccine system gone tits-up. The worst case of that scenario; the biological oopsie had been allowed to run rampant through the next generations, granting little peeps power to control and destroy. Anarchy freedom and expression for freewill were one thing. Releasing a weapon of mass destruction from the palm of one''s hands was another. Not forgetting the fact that wielding this power was mankind''s sin. In short, nothing good came out of magic. If it wasn''t for factions like the People Army, there would be many dead bodies littering the boulder crops and tree corpses. And god-knows-what else. She stopped the tank near the cliff edge with a clear view of the valley bottom. The terrain view on her monitors was still and quiet. Apart from the dust clouds, Wolf had stirred up with his warning shots released from his high-energy laser gun. "I don''t like this. The dude''s playing hide and seek. I''m crap with hide and seek," she mumbled to herself and slipped on her heavy-duty headphones to connect to Wolf. "Hey, Wolf, the guy''s playing sitting duck. Should you fire more warning shots?'' She stood to clip her gun belt to her waist, checking the safety switch on her regimented steel handguns before docking them in the holsters, a pair of fine daggers were stowed in slip-pockets of her boots, and a cool pair of sunglass-visors slipped over her eyes, which allowed continual viewing of her tank monitors. "And give me away? Lass, why don''t yah fire off some rockets to shake the bushes. Edmund would do that." Wolf grunted and cursed internally when he mentioned the name of her year-younger brother. A slip of his tongue. Lucy sighed. She didn''t take any heed of the slip, since Wolf meant well. "How about we play, shoot the crap out of everything, and see if we hit gold. Twenty nickel leura that I can hit the target through the thick wool of your beard." "I only let meh lover play with the beard, lass." He joked. "Eew. Don''t want to see you making love to your gun." She joked back. His laughter bellowed into her ear, making her cringe from the sudden jolt to her eardrums. "Geeze, Wolf. Wanna make me deaf?" She pushed the turret hatch open and stepped up the ladder to grab the turning handles, aiming the barrel at the coordinates Wolf had given her. But her terrain view wasn''t seeing any signs of the mage. Even if magic wasn''t used, it still left a carbon ID signature. A tiny pattern of energy her tank scanners could lock on. Unless the mage was fitted with a suppressor. If so, she would be dealing with more than a rogue runaway. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Hey, Wolf. You''re sure that GCE bright spark is there? I don''t see anything but rock and dust from your trigger-happy session. Bessy ain''t picking up peanuts." She frowned as she double-checked the gun''s periscope to be sure. All she saw were craggy boulders, dirt among cacti, and dead-looking weeds. "He''s there. I saw the spark hide beneath the crop yah aiming at. Just fire. No sin in hitting rocks." He grunted. "Fine. Your sin if I get in trouble for disturbing nature and whatever." She steadied the tank''s gun barrel and ducked into the gunner seat to release a flying rocket into the boulder crop. Bang. Crack. The boulder crop became a dust cloud. The air fell silent. She sighed when it seemed she had shot at nothing. Her ears twitched to the sounds of sparking. Bessy''s mage blip radar began flipping out with beeping. "Lucy, get in the hull now!" Wolf bellowed into her ears. A retaliation of icicle sword shards was already facing her. Hundreds of tiny ones slammed into the tank body with the intention to pierce holes through it. She narrowly missed a shard that had threatened to slice off her ears and cheek. "Flippin breechers!" Lucy ducked into the hull in time and slammed the hatch. She used her secondary aiming module to pivot the turret head and fire blasts toward the magic attack. Her firing had a weakness with timing. The magic attack was faster and knocked her tank body to make it sway on the spot. "Hell, I let a mage get the better of me!" She revved up the tank and began descending into the valley to avoid the ice fire "Lucy! The hell, yah doing!" Wolf bellowed with a warning when the ice fire was aiming at the ground to dislodge the tank into a pit. "I''m getting slaughtered here, Wolf. Hurry up and back me up!" Wolf left his hiding spot on the other of the valley and jumped down to hunt the mage, having a clear idea of where he was hiding. Just as suddenly, communications were cut. The ice attacks stopped. She was a sitting duck, either way, so she decided to surface. If she could leave the tank to hunt the mage on foot, she had a better chance to evade his attacks using stealth skills. She emerged from the open hatch and saw an ice sword rushing for her face. No time to evade it. "Die, primitive apes!" A man cried before his life was forfeited by Wolf''s gunfire. Wolf''s heart raced at seeing the swift flying ice sword, knowing Lucy wouldn''t be able to dodge the blow in time. The best she could do was let it cut off her ear. A firewall flared up to absorb the ice sword blow before it reached her. Both magic dissipated with a poof, leaving behind the common stench of sulfur. Nothing had harmed her. Did magic from someone else save her? Not good. She gazed about the valley and saw a man in an overcoat and wide brim hat standing on a cliff. He turned to leave and dropped to the ground. Dead. At least, it would seem so. Chapter 5: Hes Moribund "Hey, ACE2. Have you ever thought about having a people-name?" Ten-year-old Leon had whispered to his slightly older sparing brother lying on the cot next to his in their sleeping quarters. Like all the other boys on sleeping cots in rows nearby, their hair was shaved low and they wore the regimented white gowns of a warrior trainee: no shoes or other clothing, since they were told they only needed their bare fists and feet to learn to fight. Leon had been another barcoded kid in a white training gown; proudly cultivating to be someone better. The stark-white golden warrior virtual simulation, training, barrack, and mess halls were his childhood home: House as it was called. All he thought about at that time was to be a future pride of the GCE Eight Zone nation. A warrior who could keep people safe. 426983ACE1 would one day make a difference to the Big Farma House rankings. So, it felt odd when he heard another boy call one of their battle masters by a people-name. It was the first time hearing it and made him question why he wasn''t allowed one too. He was human, right? Of course, too scared to discuss his thoughts with an adult. So he had opted to talk about it with ACE2, his sparring partner, while they were together. Boys entered the Houses when they were infants or very young and trained in pairs until they turned 11 years old. They were then separated into individual ranks and barracks with the older boys. ACE2 was a few months away from being of that age, so asking him then was now or never. "ACE1. 426983ACE1. Never ask that question again." ACE2 had solemnly warned Leon. Leon frowned, puzzled. His older sparring partner gave him an answer that sunk home. "Only humans are allowed people-names. Remember, we train to be fighting machines. One day, we''ll have to do the biodroid op and become one for real. So, we don''t need names." A few days later, ACE2 was gone from his life. And he had decided to accept the facts unquestionably. --- *--- Leon''s eyes gradually opened to glaring overhead lamps on a stained ceiling. He sensed he was in a closed-in space and glanced around to see rusty metal walls similar to a weathered bomb shelter. Wire racks held small crates and containers of medical tools and vials. To one corner was a side table and chair. His hat, gun belt, and overcoat were placed on the chair. He concluded that he was in an examination room of sorts, but unlike the testing cells of his old house. Thinking of his former house had him review the replay of his childhood memory: strange it was the conversation with ACE2 and people-names. Maybe because he had a people-name now. Either way, it was likely that his serotonin levels were unbalanced. So, he closed his eyes again to activate his inbuilt diagnostic scanners and check his health vitals, placing his body in a standby state. Slamming noises, followed by a crude jolt and jab to his sides, made his scanning skip over a number. His eyes opened again when his scanning paused. "Hey. Baldy ken doll. Don''t sleep and slack off." Lucy let out a chet noise at the end of her words. She gave the side of his cot another firm kick. Leon turned his head to see a spiky-haired woman glaring down at him. "Ken doll?" he innocently asked. "Yeah, doofus." She scoffed. Her eyes glossed over his shiny bald head, so clean it could substitute a bowling ball. "Oh." He wondered if it had reference to his bald head; he still didn''t know what a ken doll was. "What is a ken doll?" Lucy groaned and explained that his ghost-white skin had no zits or spots. It was flawless to the point of being plastic-looking, and his features were way too sickly handsome. Except for his freakish, glaring, blue-white, and slightly bloodshot eyes. Like they had a nasty case of grandpa cataracts. "You look like a beefcake stiff for the morgue. Guess you were, at one point, before Butcher hooked you up to some blood bags." She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a wry look. "By the way, you owe me ten gold leura for it." "Oh. I''ve placed you in an inconvenience." Leon came to an understanding. "Okay, when I have recovered my strength, I''ll find some way to recompense the cost." "Whatever. Stay awake. I''ve got questions and you better spill, capeesh." She huffed at the end of her order, less miffed than before. If anything, the ken doll was well mannered. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Okay." She stood back, so Leon could get a good look at her. For a woman of tiny stature, she was sure ballsy. "Give me one reason why I shouldn''t shoot you now?" she asked, tapping a docked gun at her hip with a painted fingernail. He gave her question some thought and returned with an honest answer. "I don''t know. Do you have a reason to shoot me?" "Pfft. Yeah! Fire mage." She huffed and rolled her eyes with annoyance when the door opened and closed behind her. A scar-faced, wiry old man dressed in a white lab coat stepped into the room. His left eye was covered with a brown leather eye patch, where the elastic was looped into the ties of his matted gray ponytail to keep tufts off his face. His gloved hands were carrying a couple of fresh plastic blood bags. "Butcher. You said I have five minutes. I got more questions," Lucy complained. "Look, you foul pixie, he''s moribund. If I don''t change his blood bag soon, you won''t have five minutes to question him." Leon glanced around his arms to see a drip needle fastened to his exposed left wrist. A thin tube filled with blood was feeding into his veins from a blood bag hanging on a nearby drip stand. The bag was almost sucked clean. Seems he was undergoing a blood transfusion and suspected it was the cause for his memory trigger, since the rapid boost of oxygen would''ve excited his natural serotonin. "Fine." She huffed and watched the old doctor change the bags. "Why''d you need to bother anyway on a biodefect?" Butcher''s irritation with her question showed on his wrinkly forehead. He may be named Butcher, but that was because he was actually a butcher and chef when he wasn''t being the army camp''s resident doctor. Medical professionalism was required at all times. "Biodefect or not. He''s still a man. More so than the other rogues, Scarf City has taken in." Leon held his silence to ensure the conversation wasn''t interrupted: he scanned the terms the man spoke of in his offline knowledge base. "Why''s that?" Lucy asked. "He didn''t undergo the limb replacements. Aside from his semantic storage implant, micro-scan lenses, analytic apps, and heart shell, he still has all his original limbs and their functions," Butcher said when he finished swapping out a fresh bag and leaned back to examine Leon like he was a test subject for observation. "I suspect he wasn''t able to progress beyond the Heart Shelling process." Butcher explained to Lucy that the shelling process was part of the biodroid enhancement. It was when a synthetic coating wrapped around the heart to protect it from the volatile reactions the titanium bone implants would cause during the implementation. Once the limb bones had been installed to replace the natural ones, and the body attuned, the shell would be removed. The coating was a carbonized material that had to be cut and fit into size when being operated on. It was a common mishap for surgeons to make the coating too thin, so some of the material melted into the bloodstream. "Fortunately, for you boy, the surgeon realized his error early and stopped the process. However, I suspect you can''t go a day without having to externally top up your blood oxygen." He directed his words to Leon. Leon nodded. "You seem to know a lot about it." "Hmph. Right." Butcher brushed off the man''s assumption and returned his attention to Lucy. "Blood bags done, now get going, geezer." "I sympathize for the sergeant who had to raise you." Butcher sighed. "Don''t aggravate my patient. You''ll see the sharp end of my cleavers if you do." He gave Leon a look of sympathy before calmly leaving the room. Lucy dropped her crankiness. She wanted to have a serious talk with Leon. "So, am I to be incinerated for suspicion of magic?" Leon soberly asked. "Would you be hooked up to blood bags if that were the case? Man, these sacks are so expensive." Lucy lamented over the coin pouch she held before her. "Butcher must be feeding you liquid gold." Leon didn''t understand her concerns. "Is ten gold leura expensive?" Lucy blinked. The guy can''t be serious. Of course, he was a biodefect. Nothing more than a sheltered lab rat that was let loose when a procedure on him went wrong. "Bloody heck is. That''s three months of my wages gone! I could buy fifty meals and a sweet ride with it. Right. It''s clear you ain''t got the dough, so, I''ll get you to pay with your life." A cheeky smirk stretched her lips when she pulled off one of her leather bracelets and placed it over Leon''s wrist. "I mean, you are a refugee criminal." Leon felt a weird energy rush through him, and his wrist glowed blue for a fleeting moment. The leather bracelet revealed an alphanumeric code. A registration number that was likely hers. That was fine for the time being. At least being registered to her, he didn''t have to worry about having to explain his presence to the local guards. "Clearly, you want me for something." He stared into the woman''s eyes. Her smirk widened. "Catch on quick, Chuckles. Yeah. I do." Lucy''s eyes lingered on the amulet''s chain peeking out from beneath his loosened collar. "I definitely do."