《I Be Young: A Portal Fantasy》 Prologue Internecine.
He didn¡¯t like the image in front of him. No, the two girls, Sativa and Kandida were great, but the two women on television? It was the President of Gan, Zhao Ye, and the Emperor of Hispania¡¯s only daughter, Paloma Marsia Liana Karemena Hispania. The former had your typical Minzuaren features: short stature slabbed strongly with modest black features. While Zhao Ye had the fairer skin associated with those who could afford protection from labor, Karemena¡¯s glow was of a different magnitude. It was unexplainable. How she was a bit more tanned than Zhao Ye yet still glowed brighter. Nobody could say. It was not the television broadcaster, Amadeus was sure of that. What he was sure though was that shit was gonna blow. Aside from his groin being worked on by the two girls that formed an uneven valley view of the television screen, Karemena had just exited a helicopter. Alone. With a rapier so ornate with jewels. It could not possibly¡ª ¡°This meeting was unsanctioned by my brother,¡± Karemena began as she neared the two heads of state. Zhao Ye¡¯s microphone picked up the royal voice. Cold and seething. The camera zoomed in on the faces. Karemena, Zhao Ye, and the President of the Beihai. Zhao Ye held several titles relating to her beauty before she was voted into presidency, but with Karemena¡¯s face in the shot. It was like the Sun versus Andromeda or some other unreachable star. The President of Beihai¡¯s young but folded face hit the purview and Amadeus was planning to close his eyes. A slew of red formed an arc. It bloodied Zhao Ye¡¯s traditional Minzuaren dress. But not Karemena¡¯s, despite its overflow. It was the blood of Beihai¡¯s president. It was the blood of Beihai. The two girls working him did not seem to sense his abrupt tensing. Not before Karemena spoke again. ¡°My father rules this world. I rule this world. My family rules this world. Hispania rules this world. If we tell you to not proceed, then you should not do so,¡± Karemena declared. She then turned around, sheathed her sword, and headed back to the helicopter. His groin tightened, but not out of pleasure. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Sativa asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t you guys hear that?¡± he asked. ¡°Karemena?¡± Sativa presumed. ¡°Ya, did you not hear the blood of the Beihai gush out?¡± Kandida sniffed. ¡°What we wanna hear is just one of type of liquid¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Kan,¡± Sativa said, a bit of order accompanying. ¡°What is it, Amadeus?¡± Amadeus bounced off the white-but-ornate pillow that Sativa probably sourced from some illegal-but-legal furnishing dealer. From Hispania. ¡°I gotta go somewhere for a while,¡± he said, kissing Sativa first on the lips. Then Kandida. When he went to the bathroom, they did not say anything as he brushed his teeth. When he gathered clothes and a towel, they joined him. Kandida scrubbing his back, Sativa tracing his face with her soap-laced pearly fingers. He left Sativa¡¯s lot without saying anything more than, ¡°It¡¯s gonna be a while, but I¡¯ll be in touch.¡± The drive northeast was a long one, but he needed to make it before the sun set. He passed through the Sierra Sekoya like a dolphin through water. His car would not have been able to do so if the road to his destination was maintained by Rosnova. Although Rosnova was strong in many areas, the abandonment of the highway system had taken its toll on those using it outside the cities. When he was in The Valley, potholes skirted the underbelly of his car. It was a funny thing, like dolphins once again, as open flat areas should be easy to maintain. But the world was different, internally amassed problems were all the rage and it needed to go somewhere. The open ocean now held huge whirlpools of garbage. Dolphins evolved near rivers, so it was said, but they thrived in the seas. Cars were made to cross distances, so it was engineered, but they allowed laziness in droves. Rivers were understandably clogged and river dolphins had re¡ªhe did not know anything, if he was honest, but there was one thing he knew. What every educated person should know. Hispania. It looked like your average border station. Except there were two lines: one with those in cars and one with those without cars. He disembarked as he needed to piss. He got a meter to the opened doors before somebody shouted. ¡°Back in the line!¡± He tensed his eyebrows. ¡°I need to piss, fam,¡± he said. ¡°Relax.¡± ¡°You still have to be in line!¡± another person shouted. He looked between the doors. On his right was cool but stale air. Ten people. To his left was warm and spunky air. Thirty-nine people. He looked at the area outside the air-conditioned building. It had a parking lot and that was it. His bottles were already orange, not a trace of concentrated apple juice as substitute. ¡°Fuck it,¡± he mumbled as walked to the very back of the line. The person in front of him was a short woman. She carried a baby in her arms. ¡°What¡¯s the name?¡± he asked after a minute of standing behind them. He left his phone to charge in his car. ¡°Of what, I¡¯m sorry?¡± the woman replied, her accent leaning on unrecognizable to him. ¡°The baby?¡± The woman smiled, her baggy eyes disappearing for a moment. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s Ern. Ern Satine.¡± ¡°Oh cool,¡± was all he could reply. There was something that bothered him about her smile. When it was just five people before the doors, somebody stood behind him. A young son of the hood. It was obvious from the bandana and tattoos on the face. He was about to talk to the guy despite his personal leanings, but he saw the blood on the guy¡¯s shoes. It was a one thousand dollar shoe, he deduced. Marred by blood, whose host could have been worth a burger meal at some fast food joint or a funeral procession at some middle class cemetery. He tensed a bit but kept his eyes ahead. He did not want to offend the gangbanger in any way. Especially not in the border station of all places. When he was at the border between cold and warm, he had a clearer hearing of what was being said by the immigration officer. ¡°Is your name Dara, or is it Thandara?¡± the immigration officer¡¯s voice was smooth as silk. As expected of a female authority figure. ¡°It¡¯s Dara,¡± the person being questioned replied. He did not know whether the person was male or female due to the unisex attire. The immigration officer scribbled a few words. ¡°How come you did not take the plane to Pelosanto like the rest of your bandmates?¡± As the person made out their excuse, he figured out the attire trend. It was a fashion thing from Lasilafinas. ¡°¡­ I also think they wanted this to happen as a prank.¡± The immigration officer made a swooshing gesture to her right. ¡°Aight, you can go. Next!¡± The next border crosser was not unlike the person behind him. The only difference was the gender. In a closer inspection, the articles of clothing were opposite of the person behind him. He had heard a silent hiss behind, which was both a contradictory matter and an anxious-filling one. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The line moved and as he crossed into the cooled air, he could somehow hear even clearer and the name tag on the immigration officer was laid as clear as her beauty. ¡°Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova.¡± ¡°Name?¡± the immigration officer asked. ¡°Denisha,¡± the female gangbanger replied. ¡°Your birth name?¡± ¡°Denisha,¡± the female gangbanger repeated, clicking her tongue. ¡°Do you want to know your birth name?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Okay, you can go. Next!¡± He did not notice it before but Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova only stopped scribbling on her immigration log when the last person crossed to the other side. ¡°Name?¡± ¡°Winice.¡± ¡°Last name?¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t asked that to the others before,¡± the border crosser noted, annoyance in his voice. ¡°Last name?¡± the immigration officer dodged the bait. ¡°Cod.¡± ¡°Occupation?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Occupation?¡± ¡°Rapper.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a rapper?¡± ¡°Uh, it¡¯s a person who raps,¡± the border crosser cooled his voice. ¡°Basically, I say words really fast or¡ª¡± ¡°Religion?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± ¡°Religion?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t practice.¡± ¡°Orientation?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Sexual orientation?¡± ¡°Is this a joke?¡± ¡°Orientation?¡± ¡°Vegas.¡± ¡°Are those aliens?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°How much you have on you right now?¡± ¡°I got five stacks.¡± ¡°Of what?¡± ¡°Frankas.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°Well, I got my bank card with me.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± A minute passed, with the air conditioner humming. And the occasional cough. He looked around the spacious room. There was only one person not in the line or sitting down the table wherein Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova sat. It was another immigration officer, same color of uniform, but a different color of gender. He had a skin way darker than Captain Ivanka¡¯s, almost borderline a South Asian of some sort. He stood at the doorless entrance to the restroom. It had no imagery for gender. ¡°Well,¡± the border crosser began after a deep exhale. ¡°I got about a thousand on my chequing and fiddy on my savings.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°What do you mean? I got nothing more.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± Another minute passed. ¡°Well, my neck bling here is worth about ten kay.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°Ya, I bought it for ten kay.¡± ¡°Mhm, okay. Take out your bank card.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Take out your bank card.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± the border crosser said, unveiling his diamond-studded wallet. Oddly enough, it was a velcro one. The border officer took out a device. It looked like a derivative of the Kayano L650 or 2000. Which was not supposed to release yet, not later next year. He gritted his teeth. ¡°Put it on the screen of my phone.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Put it on.¡± The border crosser did. The phone lit up and vibrated for a moment. ¡°Hand me the bracelet on your right.¡± ¡°Wait, what did you do¡ª¡± ¡°Hand it.¡± ¡°Wait fam, this one costs¡ª¡± ¡°Hand it,¡± the border officer said, with finality in her tone. The border crosser did. ¡°Okay, you can go now. Next!¡± The next two were just like the female gangbanger: just asked for a name and they were off. The fifth person ahead of him was beautiful, but there was something about her that threw him off. ¡°Miss, can I use the washroom?¡± the border crosser asked. ¡°Dunno, can you?¡± the immigration officer retorted. He rolled his eyes. Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova caught him. The border crosser coughed a giggled. ¡°Ahm, may I use the washroom?¡± ¡°We have no washrooms here.¡± ¡°Then what is Mister Officer doing near that entryway?¡± ¡°Guarding it.¡± ¡°Against people like you.¡± Two minutes passed. It was exact as he counted from the television screen above the interviewer and interviewee. It also looked like another unreleased product from his group of companies. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, nani?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t speak Nongo here, chan¡¯er.¡± ¡°Chan¡¯er? Well I¡¯ll be¡ª¡± ¡°Name?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You watched me repeat again over and over to the previous border crosser, don¡¯t make me do it again.¡± ¡°You know.¡± ¡°I do know.¡± ¡°I meant, Yuno.¡± ¡°I know. But are you sure?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°How sure are you?¡± ¡°A hundred percent.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your purpose of visit?¡± ¡°I wanted to see Centrum¡¯s urban landscape, I heard there¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°A lot of blood and tears. Who told you to come through here?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Who provided you the weapons in your bag?¡± The border crosser gripped her brown leather back closer to her. It contrasted highly with her white appearance. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I have nothing¡ª¡± It was over in a second. As quick as lightning seeking its terrestrial target. The border crosser¡¯s light clothes got slaked by dark and somehow coagulating red blood. There was not even a sound. The immigration officer did not even move the rest of her body. Where a pen rested on her right hand before, a golden pistol was gripped. She clicked her tongue and the floor below the border crosser started to unfurl. Amadeus and the remaining border crossers stepped back slowly, in case they were reached by the expanding abyss. In case a swift retreat would meet a swift end. He could not smell or feel anything change in the air. If he had not seen the girl¡¯s forehead bearing a hole and brook of blood, he would not have rationalized what was in front of him. The floor seemed to disappear into some black locus, but it was soon retopped by the pristine-white that everything else in the room stood on top of. There was no thud, crunch, or anything for the shot border crosser¡¯s body. She just simply disappeared down to the ground. ¡°Next!¡± The next two were quick. They were quivering as they left the room. The one before the mother in front of him even puked. Right on the right side of the door to the other side. The immigration officer guarding the restroom entered his charge and reappeared with an old-fashioned mop. He set to clean the retch. He wanted to go to the restroom before the Nongonese girl met her demise, but when the immigration officer asked for the next border crosser, he had let himself flow. Not with embarrassment, but fear. And it seems the same for the baby in front of him. He started crying as he and his mother faced the immigration officer. ¡°Name?¡± ¡°Asiana.¡± ¡°Last name?¡± ¡°Oper.¡± ¡°The baby¡¯s name?¡± ¡°Ern Satine. Nuredes. Ern Satine Nuredes.¡± ¡°Are you running from Mister Nuredes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Does he know you¡¯ve gone here?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°What city are you trying to settle to.¡± ¡°Any.¡± ¡°Do you want any recommendations?¡± ¡°No¡ªI mean yes.¡± ¡°Okay. Well, Centrum is obviously your best bet. Especially if you wanna hide in the ghetto. Then the next best is Sixland, but you¡¯ll never really be safe unless you go to Pelosanto.¡± ¡°Wait, why Pelosanto, where is that? All I¡¯ve been told was Centrum was the closest and best place.¡± ¡°Did you know that Mister Nuredes is a citizen of our nation?¡± ¡°No. I know you guys can¡¯t just deny people¡ª¡± ¡°Mam, we can and do deny people. Just like Miss Yuno over there,¡± Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova pointed her right index finger downward, pen almost piercing her log. ¡°But citizens like Mister Saper Nuredes can¡¯t be denied, even if he doesn¡¯t know that he holds citizenship from us. The non-citizens like you are only permitted in special circumstances, such as when fleeing life-threatening situations or performing in venues as an artist. But that¡¯s only if you¡¯re accompanying a citizen of ours. Which,¡± the immigration officer paused, changing the direction of her right index finger, ¡°your son is.¡± The border crosser bowed her head. ¡°Thank you, thank you!¡± ¡°Mhm,¡± the border officer sounded. ¡°Would you like to know the truth about anything at all? Us Truth Officers can give border crossers one free freebie.¡± ¡°Wait, anything?¡± the mother queried. Her baby stopped crying. ¡°Anything that you could think of,¡± the border officer affirmed, nodding her head. ¡°Will we be alright? Us two?¡± the mother asked, her voice breaking. ¡°You will,¡± the border officer declared. ¡°In fact, that handsome young man next in line will be a teacher of your son.¡± Say what? Amadeus asked himself many questions. A teacher was something he did not see himself as. He did not even lead, except for his disobeying of Sativa earlier in the day. Every time he would enter or leave her driveway with his car, it had always stung him a bit. Blemishing such a picturesque view. It was an option, of course. Everything was. She had offered to buy him a car matching hers. Or his other relatives¡¯ but he had stayed true to his ambition. Or lack of it. He could not even be bothered to encourage Kandida to leave despite Sativa drunkenly confessing that she had only picked Kandida because of him. He reckoned it was true at first, yet when he left earlier, he felt that there was something definite growing between the two. He had always suspected that she swung that way as she¡¯d dated no boy except for him, and that she¡¯d begged for a new third party every time she was bored with the old one. He had actually told her to stop messing with the other girls if she was only going to throw them away after a few months. That was when she concocted Kandida, or the idea of her. Kandida¡¯s beauty did not surpass hers. Kandida was as toned as him. He had an inkling it was her culmination of what they both preferred. It was one of the few times he heard, turned, incurred, and asserted his diamond-furred words. ¡°I asked for the next one in line, boy!¡± the border officer barked, but not to the level of a shout. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, scratching his scalp with both hands. ¡°Did you know you were a citizen, Amadeus?¡± the border officer asked. His mind glided over the weird instances before, as quick as a peregrine or cheetah chasing its prey. He wanted fly or run. Either one would produce none of what he wanted. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t,¡± he replied, thoughts racing all over. ¡°Come here, lemme cop a feel,¡± the border officer insisted. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need to talk like that.¡± ¡°Talk like what?¡± he asked, halfway in and out of reality. He gravitated toward her. The border officer kissed her teeth. ¡°The school you¡¯ll be on.¡± Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova enclosed her hands with his, electrifying him with a soft silent squeeze. It was all he saw before his eyes stopped working. ¡°There, I¡¯ve activated your connection to our citizen system. Now, is there anything you want? You can ask me anything. I¡¯m sworn to the truth.¡± He wanted to open his mouth, to ask a curious one, to determine why his eyes were not working, but his lips would not budge. ¡°There, there, I do want something,¡± Captain Ivanka Nuta Frankova¡¯ smooth voice became extra smooth. To the point of sultriness. ¡°And I know how much guilt you feel with consent. With slaughter. With birth. With tragedy. With justice. With pain. With beauty.¡± For a long while, he heard an unbuckling. Until his eyes started working again. Before his eyes sought forth. Chapter 1: Araw Started around 2020-10-21, now revisited and modified in 2022-06-06. Then dormant until some slight changes on 2023-02-13. This is from the POV of the MC from an alternate timeline, from a different 2020, a Harvard undergraduate. Currently Chapter 1 (after the prologue/chapter 1 from like 5 years ago now, so chapter 2).
It is all the same. The planet harbored him. It was dark, unlit. Aside from the lamp atop his table. He had not spent the last four years of undergrad for nothing. Here he was, educated at the best engineering university across the river, molded by the pinnacle of all liberal arts learning. Shrooms of fumes spored avant him. En la tune avec de la vie, ecrit. Would this take me really to the past, the present, the future. Many have labored, but sheer pursuit had produced nothing to refute. Back, before it all began.
Araw de Taha walked along the halls. There were no yellow zinc lozenges around, but honey diamonds of a dynasty flared like a shrill. The coat of arms of de Trabasabe. His screen said so. Name: Escudo de armas, de Trabasabe Description: The noble family of Trabasabe originated from a line of indentured servants in eleventh century Andalusia. They were a mishmash of Jewish, Catholic, and Muslim pairings, the norm of the time. At the border, they were able to hedge themselves into Cordoba¡¯s scholar stratum using well-timed marriages and business ventures. The Trabasabe remained lower gentry until the twentieth century, when the King of Hispania promoted technological advancement with unmet zeal. Since then they¡¯ve managed to parlay their direct royal promotions into a conglomeration of renowned modern educational institutions. It was the first day. ¡°Please move,¡± a soft voice said. It was the lightest command he¡¯d heard in a while, but her skin was murkier. Name: Kat Galisia Ipunan - Ipunan Tribe - Ipunan Clan - Hispania Birthplace: Centrum - Centrum - Imperial Hospital, Centrum, Centrum Megalopolis, Centrum, Hispania Birthdate: 1998 - 1998 - 1998 Age: 17 - 17 - 17 Sex: Female Ethnicity: Hispanian, Asturias Novan - Hispanian - Hispanian Religion: Roman Catholic - Roman Catholic - No Religion Education: Primeria Burges de Centrum - Ateneo de Centrum - Not Applicable Wealth: $0 - $10 000 - $1 000 Beauty: 8/10 - 9.5/10 - 8/10 Intelligence: 8/10 - 10/10 - 8/10 Loyalty: Hispania - Hispania - Hispania Her dark brown hair was in a top knot bun, but it wasn¡¯t really apparent due to the way she dressed: a thick sweater half gray and half black, and a similarly bulky sweatpants, full-on anemic dark gray, graphite. Much like the emotion written on her face. She had round circle eyeglasses that would¡¯ve been normal in Asturias Nova or some other Asian part of the empire. Her bag was a satchel, outdated full-grain leather. She was a patina. A shadow of what was lost. ¡°Sorry,¡± he muttered, but she¡¯d already trudged past. ¡°Okay then, could¡¯ve augured that.¡± Islington Station no more, it¡¯s now Kipling Station as the bus hub for all transfers. What do I do, in this rude yard of kids? This is an imperialist land. He sighed. ¡°God.¡± He was assailed by the bell tone over the PA system. ¡°Good morning, ADC, we¡¯re carriers of our laned futures, so let¡¯s give the freshmen a break. Seniors, it¡¯s your last year, y¡¯already know applications must be handed in by December, right?¡± a sing-songy voice said. He was about to wonder who it could be when the door to his left burst open. It was mahogany, like most. ¡°Damn it Mister Pascual, it isn¡¯t Easter yet, I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re asking me to train a new emcee when I have to prepare for my uni applications.¡± Before a reply could be heard, some dude walked out of the newly opened door. Then, an even more frat boy-looking dude appeared. At first he looked as if he was about to call after the student, but he rolled his eyes and kissed his teeth instead before closing the door again. Great, this whole thing is straight out of a romcom teen movie. With all the ¡°move please¡± and the soliloquies. Wait a minute, isn¡¯t this¡ª ¡°Fuck!¡± somebody yelled. Araw hadn¡¯t even gotten a step past the first cardinal junction and things were already dire. Before another trope could form in front of him, he hurried into his classroom. Room 101. It was empty, save for a corner occupied by what seemed to be the popular girls. They had navy blue socks that reached up to their knees and a style of make up that bordered on being nonexistent. Their chosen fashion senses distinguished them enough from the rest of the female student body. In fact, it was so stark and subtle at the same time that he took a second to take it all in. The one in the center of five paid a glance at him while the others crosstalked each other. He felt a momentary zap when her hazel eyes browned him. It only took a dismissing second but it always felt the same. Why do I always play this look when it always elicits such a response. His bag was black and empty, save for a mechanical pencil and plastic foam eraser. It was made out of nylon, its maker¡¯s branding barely etched on the water bottle side. Plastic proof. He took the opposite corner, closest to the teacher¡¯s desk, and sat down. He didn¡¯t want to be near the door or the girls. They seemed like the skeezy type. And the window corner across the girls, usually reserved for the newly transferred spotlight takers? It was within spitting distance of the girls. He was at the farthest corner, where the gum wouldn¡¯t be blown. Which is all sorts of things, but one of the girls had already gobsmacked him with the amount of noise she made by just chewing. ASMR is not it during such a situation. Mukbangs all day, I¡¯ve forgotten. But that¡¯s only if there isn¡¯t some hollering. It was five minutes before another person entered the classroom. He had closed the door and somewhat regretted it. ¡°Did you hear about Katie gunning for Billy?¡± ¡°Ya, isn¡¯t she just some craftsman daughter, why is she trying for him?¡± ¡°He¡¯s bald and has bunny teeth, imagine if he was us.¡± ¡°Nobility though, that¡¯s what she wants.¡± ¡°Wait, did you hear about the new shopping center they¡¯re building at Loyola Road?¡± ¡°My father¡¯s actually the contractor for that one.¡± ¡°Are they adding a new haute couture outlet there, we need one so bad.¡± ¡°Yup, it takes too long to get to get to Estranza.¡± ¡°Well, he said it¡¯s mainly for basic groceries and the like, something about us needing to finally have a mixed mall.¡± ¡°What does that even mean?¡± ¡°Do we need to shop with them?¡± He could almost feel a finger at his back. ¡°No, no it¡¯s apparently going to be a mishmash of supplies from all continents.¡± ¡°Oh wow.¡± ¡°So they¡¯re definitely adding haute couture retailers there right.¡± ¡°Probably, they¡¯re just making the spaces for the shops now though.¡± ¡°Have you seen the plans?¡± ¡°No, you know how it is, even if I¡¯m following him in the industry, they always keep it secret.¡± ¡°Why do they need to have it so secret though, it¡¯s just a mall.¡± ¡°Well, my father did say that they¡¯re building tunnels for pedestrians though.¡± ¡°And that has to be secret?¡± ¡°Yeah, until the skyscrapers are built and flood the capacity.¡± ¡°What does that even mean?¡± ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I said, and he said that they¡¯re poised to gentrify the ghettos soon.¡± ¡°By making underground camps?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s just foot traffic during peak times and some small-spaced retailers as they¡¯re obviously not going to build a huge area underneath us.¡± ¡°Ya, we¡¯re not a new city, it¡¯s going to take decades for them to bore.¡± ¡°Are you guys never tired of architectural stuff, why don¡¯t you guys follow us, be a real girl.¡± ¡°What, we¡¯re not having this convo again.¡± ¡°Okay, okay, I just wish I had the same liberties as you guys.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, times are changing.¡± What is this exposition, if I was any closer I¡¯d probably hear them gossip about their whole life. When he was about to tune out, some girl opened the door and sat in front of him. Name: Plasentia Mareba - Mareba Tribe - Mareba Clan - Hispania Birthplace: Centrum - Centrum - Imperial Hospital, Centrum, Centrum Megalopolis, Centrum, Hispania Birthdate: 1994 - 1998 - 1994 Age: 23- 17 - 23 Sex: Female If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Ethnicity: Hispanian - Hispanian - Hispanian Religion: Roman Catholic - No Religion - No Religion Education: Primeria Burges de Centrum - Ateneo de Centrum - Universidad de Loyola Wealth: $50 000 - $50 000 - $100 000 Beauty: 7/10 - 8.5/10 - 8/10 Intelligence: 7/10 - 10/10 - 8/10 Loyalty: Hispania - Hispania - Hispania Her brown eyes shook him. She exaggerated her eyes¡ªwidened them as to bring her eyebrows to a crest. ¡°You look weird.¡± Her voice was unexpectedly low. An alto. He was expecting a staccato but they blurred, the words. Maybe it was because he had set his left ear on his left arm. He had crossed his arms to momentarily zone out. When she had come in, he subconsciously followed her movement, not realizing she would sit in front of him. Sometimes people look weird when their ear is stuck to their head. He didn¡¯t give her a reaction though. Even though she had drooped down. ¡°React weird too,¡± she continued. Then she opened one of her drawers and started changing right there. The other girls in the room stopped talking when she had entered and closed the door. He felt suffocated, and so he turned his head to the left, the window. ¡°Huh,¡± he heard her mutter. She was done in under a minute. Nobody said a thing. Her clothes had changed from the female student uniform to that more akin of a teacher¡¯s. He figured that was the case. He took a deep sigh. This is just odd. His eyes closed, unveiling maroon. Sometimes when light bears, it is better for red to cover. The thin membrane. ¡°Is she really wearing that type of bra?¡± ¡°Has she got no shame?¡± ¡°How can he ignore her like that.¡± The girl dressed as a teacher fake-cleared her throat. ¡°Guys, you know this room is only soundproofed to the walls, right? Everything inside here then is somewhat amplified.¡± They had stopped then, for a good five minutes, seeing as the supposed teacher did not stop arranging her desk as she warned them. Then they resumed back to frivolous topics. ¡°Girls, am I right?¡± he heard a voice say right on his left ear. It was more sultry, electric than before. Yet there was no polarization occurring. It was already inert, always has been. Why the hell am I targeted by this person, how even. He didn¡¯t bother opening his eyes. ¡°There¡¯s something about you,¡± the teacher stated, this time he felt the air from her nostrils whirl down his ear canals. ¡°You¡¯d saved her, but not him.¡± His left eye opened. He saw her smirk. She had squatted right in front of him. Fucking really? Her contacts fit well inside the non-graded frames. It pushed that oomph, the image of a conservative nerdy teacher. Whereas before her cardigan followed the shape of her torso, now her baggy sweater hid everything. It was blazoned with the crest of the University of Loyola. A wooden pencil half-covered in mud. Her skirt was replaced by black denim. Also loose instead of form-fitting. He almost said something before the next student barged in as loud as they can. ¡°Yo, what¡¯s good,¡± a shrilly voice said. ¡°Oh sorry, I thought there were more people here already.¡± He didn¡¯t bother turning his head. It was an awkward minute as the door was not closed, it was half-opened. And his new classmate was probably shocked at the sight of him and the teacher. Just two people staring each other down, one with a smile, the other not. The new arrival walked all the way back, diagonal to the door, clear view of the odd situation. Where the main character would have sat. The right muddy eye twitched as her smile broadened. ¡°Welp, I tried my best to get a reaction from you, but what else would I have expected.¡± She stood up and pointed behind him. ¡°You, what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Kurisuhit,¡± came the reply. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you close the door?¡± ¡°Uh, and who are you?¡± The comfy girl just scoffed, turned to look down at Araw, and then slowly walked to the door. After she had closed the door of shambles, she sat on the desk to his right, her eyes locking onto his. He decided to entertain her as he could feel the rays on her back. The other students were perplexed. This is some next-level plot. She didn¡¯t seem to need as much work to prepare. After her desk, he thought about what else she could do. She¡¯d probably arranged the class the day or week before. So it did not phase him as she maintained her stare at him. She¡¯d mirrored him and from the periphery it probably looked like two students just sleeping and that they somehow happened to face each other. The other six in the room went silent the moment she¡¯d asked for the new entrant¡¯s name. After a while there was some page-flipping but no dialogue broached the air. It wasn¡¯t an awkward air, per se. More like an uncertain one. One where one knows not to tamper with. He sighed inward. Is it going to be like this. How is this even a thing. Four minutes went by slowly. Time passed faster when the next set arrived. It was a mixed group this time. Two boys and two girls. They spoke in soft voices and carried their textbooks against their chest. They gravitated to where the previous newcomer was. ¡°Hey guys, over here!¡± ¡°What¡¯s good, you had a nice break?¡± ¡°Ya, how about you.¡± It was natural then that the other pentagon would resume. He tuned it out. Their staredown continued, but the time before class didn¡¯t. And so capitalism was born. Counting heads was a huge part of it. Twenty minutes, before the bell rang over the PA system. ¡°ADC, good morning. Please listen to the national anthem.¡± Standing and pledging to a flag would¡¯ve been the norm. But there were only emblems here. Two minutes passed. ¡°First, we¡¯d like to thank our Lord Jesus Christ for giving us this day. Second, remember that you can still change your courses by the end of this week. Third, we¡¯re having an assembly before the last period today. Thank you.¡± A solid minute passed. The class was in constant conversation by then, most didn¡¯t even stop for the chanting. Araw¡¯s opponent had yawned and closed her eyes. It was longer than a blink. Then she turned around and tilted her chin up. It was Kat Galisia Ipunan. Her left index finger had been poking the non-conforming girl¡¯s right shoulder. He was surprised that Kat kept it up the whole time, the intermittent back and forth poking without uttering a word. But he was even more surprised that her target didn¡¯t acknowledge the presence. It was a minuscule amount of amazement and when she kept staring at him while ignoring the odd pokes by Kat, it made him wonder for a bit. Had she really seen? She stood up and walked back to her actual desk. The rest of the class were too enmeshed in their own scenes. Kat sat down the vacated seat and opened her notebook. He turned back to the window. It was another five minutes before things changed. Some had noticed that somebody now sat on the teacher¡¯s desk. Others had done the same as him and zoned out. Somebody opened a bag of potato chips. A water bottle spilled a bit on a desk. Cases of pencils fell on the floor. A sniffle here and there. Sighs are all around. Ah, the beginning of fall. The chickadees and bluejays with their pronounced calls. Not to mention the lark buntings, froggy mechanical passeris. Perched, for the songbird territorial airs. She shook her marker before its black ink pressed against the whiteboard. ¡°Missus Mareba, University of Loyola, PhD.¡± The teacher cleared her throat for attention. It stopped a bit of the conversations. She did it for the second time, with more gust. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve got your attention, welcome to your last year guys. It¡¯s going to be hard or easy, but time is always here.¡± Mutterings began again, as if they couldn¡¯t be heard outside of their intended destination. ¡°Wait, she¡¯s our teacher?¡± ¡°Fucking nerd.¡± ¡°Do you know her, doesn¡¯t she seem weird?¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t seen her before, how come she¡¯s like our age.¡± ¡°She has an accent.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to pass.¡± ¡°When¡¯s next class again?¡± ¡°Wish we had a different teacher.¡± ¡°This seems like it¡¯s gonna be boring.¡± ¡°Miss, are you new?¡± Someone had asked the obvious question. She nodded. ¡°Yep, and we also got a few transfer students in here with me, so why don¡¯t we have everyone introduce themselves?¡± There was a pause. Somebody at the back of the room complained, ¡°But Miss, it¡¯s the end of our school life already, why do we need to start again?¡± Missus Mareba murmured. It was short, a bit imperceptible, but she¡¯d glanced at Araw. ¡°You guys are going to do it anyway next year if you go to university. I doubt even one person here is heading straight to work. We¡¯re at the top, after all.¡± Half the class groaned. Her right index finger settled at the center of her glasses. It pushed up the frames closer to her eyes instead of remaining drooped down after she shook her head down. ¡°We¡¯ll start here by the person at the door and boustrophedon our way to this one right here.¡± She had pointed at him and he¡¯d felt it. He did not turn around though as the sight of something troubling beyond the window occupied his thoughts. It was somebody descending down from a helicopter. The rotor blades were muffled, partly due to the distance but mainly due to its material. Military grade. Good enough for the military. But it was sheathed in something unusual that made it more than just meeting the often misattributed quality standard. The new teacher took her wheeled chair to where the front of her desk met the white walls: to his top left, directly to the right side of his vision. The windows faced north. ¡°Kurene,¡± she mumbled after sitting down. He sighed. ¡°Huh.¡± She had a white plastic-covered notebook in front of her, about A5-sized. Her metallic silver mechanical pencil was waiting for the first inscription. ¡°So first girl, move the lectern to the center and start.¡± The first introduction was of a clear image. She had your standard black hair, standard fair skin, standard makeup, standard uniform. As average as it could get. ¡°Hi everyone, my name is¡ª¡± He filtered time until it got to the back of her column. It was the first of the hazel. The first with minimum makeup and knee-high navy blue socks. ¡°Hey, my name¡¯s Virdesena, I run for our track team and I¡¯m looking forward to take the win this year.¡± He zoned out again until it came to the twelfth person, the first of the remaining two at the front that he did not know. Or bothered to know. This was because he was the only male aside from Araw that sat in the first two rows from the whiteboard. Virdesena had walked with a bit of subdued confidence. In comparison, Araw¡¯s next person of interest shuffled as shyly as a rabbit unburrowing itself after sleep or successful escape. He had a navy blue cardigan that was too baggy for his frame but a leather-belted tapered navy blue chino. The latter was not an option. ¡°He-He-Hello everyone, I¡¯m Ern. I just transfered in from abroad, please take care of me.¡± The ninety degree bow was unexpected. Some ejected out quick exhales through their teeth while others kissed it with their tongue. ¡°Sheesh, is he really going to introduce himself in the Jipenkugo way?¡± ¡°Totally unnecessary when it¡¯s just us two that can recognize that.¡± ¡°That guy seems to be nervous as hell.¡± ¡°He¡¯s brave for sitting at the front though, but that¡¯s expected due to his whole look.¡± ¡°Do we have another nerd in this class.¡± ¡°What do you mean, of course there¡¯s gonna be another one, we¡¯re not Primeria Elite.¡± Araw¡¯s tongue tapped his teeth as Ern held his bow. A dental fricative was trying to be consonorous to the disapproval. Why¡¯d he make himself stand out so much, hmm. He decided to sieve again, to the last of Virdesena¡¯s group and the center column¡¯s last desk. She walked to the stage like a burned out star. Her whole look was gray. From the clothes to the facial expression. ¡°I¡¯m from Jerusalem and my name¡¯s Istar.¡± Name: Ester Kohen Iveria - Iveria Tribe - Iveria Clan - Hispania Birthplace: Centrum - Centrum - Imperial Hospital, Centrum, Centrum Megalopolis, Centrum, Hispania Birthdate: 1998 - 1998 - 1998 Age: 17 - 17 - 17 Sex: Female Ethnicity: Jewish - Hispanian - Hispanian Religion: Jewish - Roman Catholic - Roman Catholic and Jewish Education: Primeria Elite de Centrum - Ateneo de Centrum - Not Applicable Wealth: $1 000 000 - $1 000 000 - $1 000 000 000 Beauty: 9/10 - 9/10 - 10/10 Intelligence: 8/10 - 9/10 - 10/10 Loyalty: Hispania - Hispania - Hispania Interesting way to introduce yourself. He started to yawn but stopped it from fully materializing. She¡¯d actually mumbled on for a while, mainly something about the importance of politics and why the class should join the Politics Club. He¡¯d tuned it out, much like how those with Sykes-Picot drew thin notes on the desert sand with hefty sticks and then promptly ignored the reverberations that came a decade, century later. He only returned to the new reality when it was the next person¡¯s turn. Kat. She was the one before him. He¡¯d been an avid Katarina player. And he had seen a death lotus do a flash step. Shun po. Kat still looked melancholic or more like an overly shy introvert, shut-in. Her baggy clothes really sold the whole look. She stood at the lectern, her eyes downcast to where notes or papers would be. ¡°I¡¯m Kat, nice to meet you all.¡± And that was it, that was all she¡¯d said before sitting down. The previous students all said a bit more, but hers was so short, soft, and straight to the point, he decided to do the same thing. As he got up, Kat went down. She¡¯d closed her eyes and waited, just like he did before with the others. Araw fixed his posture, cleared his throat, and¡ª The wheels of the teacher¡¯s chair screeched, she had stood up and pointed at him. ¡°We¡¯ve got a god out here, a real godforsaken student among us. He¡¯s the newest transfer, and he¡¯s got all the As, everyone. You¡¯ve better be prepared, he¡¯s taking over the awards, scholarships, the whole thing. For those of you all wanting to be the top of the class, the school, you¡¯ll have to aim for him.¡± She nodded at his direction before sitting back down. Did she really do another expository dialogue? Araw faked a cough and put his left palm on his forehead. ¡°Well, I¡¯m just here to do the best that I can,¡± he started. ¡°Anyway guys, there¡¯s really no need to worry, I¡¯m planning on taking it easy this year. Got some video games or other worlds to take my time, so don¡¯t expect me to compete for the grants, competitions, and all that. Miss is just playing with you guys, my grades are nothing special, she¡¯s just weird.¡± ¡°Did he really just deflect the praise?¡± ¡°Well, she looked weird earlier when she was interacting with him.¡± ¡°For sure there¡¯s something going on between them two, they seem to know each other.¡± ¡°How come she appears like our age?¡± ¡°He hasn¡¯t even said his name yet.¡± Oh right. ¡°Right, so my name is Araw, I¡¯m originally from, ahem.¡± Name: Araw Rio de Taha - de Taha Tribe - de Taha Clan - Hispania Birthplace: Centrum - Centrum - Imperial Hospital, Centrum, Centrum Megalopolis, Centrum, Hispania Birthdate: 1998 - 1998 - 1998 Age: 17 - 17 - 17 Sex: Male Ethnicity: Hispanian, Asturias Novan - Hispanian - Hispanian Religion: Roman Catholic - Roman Catholic - No Religion Education: Primeria Mundo de Centrum - Ateneo de Centrum - Not Applicable Wealth: $0 - $1- $1 000 000 Beauty: 8/10 - 9.5/10 - 8/10 Intelligence: 7/10 - 10/10 - 9/10 Loyalty: Hispania - Hispania - Hispania Huh, almost exactly like Kat. ¡°I¡¯m from Mundo, so my grades aren¡¯t really that special.¡± Chapter 2: Portal Fantasy Prologue Determination comes from termination. The crown had entered the world with the wind at its back. It was a soft, still wind, as silent as the baps of the machines. What lay forth was new life, its respiration a desperation instinct. In the matters of mores of old, the first thing to do was to let it suckle the nutrients of the world. Transformed from blood and excreted unto its white form. There it would grow in strength, multiplied by organs ready to be molded, one way or another. Not every one survives the first second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, decade, century. But for every breath taken, it is said that worth had been given. For life had a purpose, a meaning of sort. Once outside the cradle, it¡¯s time for the sorting center. Where ticks are given if you¡¯re born of silk or straw. For the former, it¡¯s yesmen and the race against the clock. For the latter, it¡¯s the nomen and the struggle against the lock. Beyond the first decade, problems open and situations cease. Into existence they say that it will be all for something. A certain path, story to be told. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Yet again, not everyone sees beyond the darkness of the womb.
Religious zeal sealed all in custody. The child was the last of his line. His first breath, the hope of holy binds. ¡°Who hadn¡¯t attended this day of occasion?¡± a voice asked. The sentence reverberated. The dome of the church was made for it. For a moment, only the organs played. Instrumental beats. ¡°Dukes of yore and dukes of more, we¡¯ve only got the entrenched middle in here,¡± replied a voice with a higher tone. ¡°Whereof I know, now stop with this archaicness, we have a newborn to welcome!¡± The baby was dunked into the shallow basin after his first breath. The water was muddy, unclear from all the sediment stirred up. For his kind, it would be the first and last time to eat dirt. The congregation started a hum as the newly baptized cried. ¡°There among the waters abroad, Lay the land of all holy, Read, rant, a ball solely, Dares along the orders allowed, Feast upon its jolly, Sleep on top its folly, Life is but journey, And death no hurry, I knew anew for you, Don¡¯t forget the due.¡± It was the practice for the adherents of Mase. Something unknown to the masses, but central to the nobility. The audience of the christened child was a mishmash of low gentry and high bourgeois. The families in attendance held well-respected positions within the Delamer kingdom of Taoka. Most of them followed Mase¡¯s teachings but a few called on to the gods of the land. Chapter 3: Soul Inimity 2016, October 1. A hill mirage overloomed him. Josaya sniffed and sighed. He was assigned to take care of the entry-level boring duties at his work and he didn¡¯t like it. He deserved it though as he was the new employee. And that he¡¯d come across an old fling¡¯s father. Some top executive at the company. He had never met the man but apparently he was known. ¡°What¡¯s with the look,¡± Char asked. It was noon in the fall, perfect for a picnic. She¡¯d texted him the night before for an impromptu walk along the river. He had been dreaming of his first love, a blurry question to his mind. Who she had been, he¡¯d already forgotten. It had been a long time since he¡¯d dreamed of her, and he was interrupted. He stopped walking. A small exhale escaped his lips. ¡°So why are we here again?¡± he asked. Her steps also ceased and she¡¯d wrapped her arms around his abdomen. ¡°It¡¯s kind of scary how fast we¡¯d improved and how things turned out exactly as Begoina had said.¡± He put the tip of his tongue between his lips and hummed. ¡°Hmm,¡± he uttered. ¡°She knows the market, doesn¡¯t she? It¡¯s only natural that it¡¯d turn out predictable.¡± ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re the first group ever in the world,¡± she stated. ¡°How could she describe the expectations to this level of detail.¡± He sighed again. ¡°You said she¡¯s like a witch, right?¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± ¡°So you guys are basically training to be singing witches then,¡± he joked. She pinched the skin of his right ribcage. He¡¯d considered wearing a sweater since the season was set, but he didn¡¯t expect to be outside for long. Though he had no meetings or anything on the schedule, his bosses still expected for him to get back immediately. No matter how lax the lunch policy break was. After all, who¡¯d feed the machine learning computers input if not for junior employees like him? ¡°You haven¡¯t met her that¡¯s why,¡± she said. ¡°She¡¯s beautiful, graceful, everything to describe somebody as good, but I somehow can¡¯t escape this feeling of something being off. The others haven¡¯t questioned anything, they¡¯re just glad for their newfound skills. But I really don¡¯t understand how eating that pineapple gave us these skills. It¡¯s straight out of a novel.¡± He puffed in resignation. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked. ¡°You know I met her for the last song of your album, right?¡± She ended the hug to stand in front of him. ¡°Wait, you didn¡¯t just send her the track over the net?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Ya I did, but that was after,¡± he said. ¡°We met after you told her that I was pretty good in making songs. Like the day after.¡± ¡°Wait, how¡¯d she get your number?¡± she asked. ¡°I never gave it.¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t call me,¡± he replied. ¡°She actually found my workplace and asked to chat.¡± He sighed. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°And then?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s it, we just talked about how the royalties were going to be split,¡± he answered. ¡°She said 80-20 right off the bat and I was prepared to like complain until she said that the ratio was favored for me. Said she wanted the input of people from outside the company. That she was only given a framework base and that expanding upon things weren¡¯t really her style.¡± He gulped as she kept eyes at him. ¡°And then what?¡± ¡°That is i-i-t,¡± he stammered. He knew her unspoken question enough though and dared not answer it. No good results from it. She resumed walking along the cobblestone path. ¡°You sure?¡± He followed to her side, her oversized hat kept him at bay. ¡°Ya, she¡¯s cool.¡± ¡°Not cool enough to give me more lines with that song,¡± she complained. ¡°It was my idea.¡± He faked coughed. ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t really taken seriously your vocal lessons from her.¡± She half-turned her sandals for another pause but decided against it. ¡°She said that?¡± ¡°Ya,¡± he replied. ¡°She said you could be the best vocalist in the group but you just keep doing non-singing or dancing stuff. What¡¯s up with that, anyway?¡± She sighed. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really know if I¡¯m up to this. We¡¯d just finished recording our last stage for the fans but it was still crazy how loud they were cheering.¡± ¡°I thought you wanted to have all the attention or adulations for your vanity,¡± he half-jested. She stepped on his left foot. Again, he¡¯d also pondered on wearing shoes but the weather prediction seemed nice enough and so he was stuck with stepped on toes. ¡°Yes, but not like this,¡± she admitted. ¡°I feel like some sort of idol, you know, like the real idol type of thing, not this singer performer type. And you know how I feel about shit like that.¡± He kept silent as their strides continued. A minute had passed before he decided to offer a reply. ¡°Well that¡¯s part of the job, you know,¡± he stated in a soft tone. ¡°How long do your contracts last anyway?¡± She whistled a sharp note. ¡°Phew, well, I mean,¡± she began. ¡°It¡¯s for five years, our six-month training period included. Can¡¯t quit or complain before then.¡± ¡°Five years for something that¡¯s never been done before,¡± he muttered. ¡°Really, Char? Is that impulsiveness of yours ever going to change?¡± She sighed again, a bit heavier this time. ¡°Not everyone¡¯s as chill as you,¡± she retorted. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why we make a good match.¡± She linked her right hand with his. ¡°I thought it was my looks?¡± he quipped. ¡°You said you¡¯ve never seen somebody like me before.¡± ¡°Well ya, you¡¯re from¡ª¡± she started but stopped. He¡¯d been smirking at her but soon followed her gaze. In front of them was a girl wearing an oversized sweater. He couldn¡¯t see her shorts, so he assumed it was one of those short shorts type. But at the start of October, it was something he hadn¡¯t seen before. A gust of wind came out of nowhere, and the blonde hair of the girl in front of them flew in all sorts of directions. Her hairstyle had gone from orderly, to unkempt. ¡°Umm,¡± he voiced after the two girls had stopped to stare at each other. ¡°Do you guys know each other?¡± He¡¯d always heard about poems, sagas, and all sorts of hallucinations about words being like honey to the ears. But when she answered him, his mind had gone to wherever eusocial heavens bees depart for. ¡°No, but she was told of me.¡± Chapter 4: UAP Simulation Beginnings A beauty appeared in front of Araw de Taha. In many instances, she¡¯d appeared as an elf, angel, some sort of goddess. With sharp eyes, nose, ears, lips, jaw, the avatars of perfection generally appeared inhuman. ¡°Please select the difficulty level,¡± a soft voice reverberated throughout the blank space. Sandbox, Easy, Normal, Hard, NewGame+ Easy was accessible for the poor. Hard was available for the rich. Sandbox and Normal were free for everyone but the options were deprioritized in the selection view. NewGame+ was only obtainable for those that either hyperspecialized or did nothing at all with their previous or current life. Araw didn¡¯t hesitate with the NewGame+ option. ¡°How is it going, welcome to the world of Ostronatia,¡± the same voice from before said. There was a still wind to the atmosphere. Araw waited for the beauty to continue, but her platinum-blonde hair remained at rest with the rest of her face. Her deep violet eyes spoke with recognition though, and after a short clearing of her throat, she proceeded. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Please choose your starting conditions,¡± she finally stated. Poor, Middle, Rich, Custom After a moment of consideration, he chose rich. Absentee Parents, Middle of the Road Parents, Controlling Parents Absentee parents was all he¡¯d known. No siblings, One sibling, Multiple siblings No siblings in this bleak world. Few Extended Family, Decent Extended Family, Vast Extended Family Vast extended family allowed for better resources and connections. Village, Town, City Cities provided the best starting conditions. There were many other options and they had their own levels of customizability too, but he just glossed over them for now as he wanted to get down to one of the most important parts. Truncated for now, just adding UAP stuff here before forgetting. So after logging in or traveling to the secondary world, this is what maybe happens: He looked at the sky, saw the cigar-shaped crafts and shook his head. "Sigh, them Tic-Tacs are here too." Then he saw the cube within a sphere crafts. Same with the triangular ones. It was like a conspiracy of greeting. "If these interdimensional travelers just gave us tech upliftment back then," he muttered. "Wait, didn''t Lockheed Martin, the Department of Energy, the Department of Defense, et cetera have the reversed engineered crafts. Or was it all just a theory all along." "Because I''ve already confirmed myself that it was all a simulation with God."