《Azazel's Universe》


 Chapter 2:The eyes that saw the light for the first time

    The room in which they arrested me was, to say the least, "rustic". You couldn''t expect much more from a police station that had been standing without renovations for 40 years. The walls, thinner than a palm, easily passed sound, allowing me to hear the conversation of the policemen, at least the part after I had managed to recover from the shock of having killed my father.


    There seemed to be at least 10 cops on the other side of the wall, their conversations ranged from cops discussing how an aegono had been alive for over 2 days, I figured I was this "aegono" guy, although I didn''t know what that meant.


    Another part of the policemen seemed worried, they were talking among themselves if they should really have arrested a member of the Granger family, which I didn''t understand. It would make sense if he had mentioned an important family, like some political family, or a very rich family, but my family was ordinary, the most "important" person in my family was my Grandfather, who had a convenience store on an avenue.


    I didn''t understand any of the points that the policemen were discussing, and on top of that there were the things I had seen, a policeman with horns and almost 10 feet, a shimmering green sky, a middle-aged man hitting as hard as a comic book character, nothing made sense.


    Until she walked through the door.


    On the badge displayed on her chest, a name and a rank: Ruhby Reed - Second Lieutenant Rank 5 -


    A tall woman, even more by normal standards, her 6''2", more muscles than many men can dream of having, long red hair, a pair of glasses looking like Mill**use.


    When I saw her, it was like an angel had entered the room. My friends always said I had strange taste in women, preferring women taller and stronger than myself.


    She sat in the chair opposite the one I was sitting in, a table separated her and me. If I hadn''t just killed my father and been in jail, I would have asked her out, but when she started talking, things started to make sense.


    Either I had gone crazy, or I had just "seen" for the first time.


    She started a long monologue.


    RUHBY REED''S POINT OF VIEW


    This was by far the strangest case I have been assigned.


    From hunting a six-armed piano player who killed his victims by making them listen to his music, to escorting a politician''s son who had received death threats from his ex-girlfriend who controlled knives that she made from her own bones, in my eight years of service, I had never seen anything like it.


    To tell you the truth, in my 28 years of life I had never seen such a case.


    If a child is born ageone, he usually lives less than 2 days, but this guy in front of me is 21 years old, without an E.G.O., how is this possible?


    Did it have to do with him being from the Granger family? After all, the head of the Granger house is at least 1500 years old, that old man has killed things that not even in my worst nightmares would I see, and this guy''s sister is not to mention it, a teenager who reached the Special Ranking at the age of 14, this guy was certainly not normal.


    More than I could feel in him, he was really an aegon, I couldn''t feel his aura, and he didn''t seem to have any anomalies, and I don''t remember a member of the Granger house who was less than rank 7, apart from his father, Antony Reinhardt, a man who reached rank 8 at the age of 18, quite an achievement, but for some reason he stopped evolving.


    As I stared at him, trying to understand what that was in front of me, he asked, "Am I going crazy or are half the cops here anthropomorphic beings?"Stolen story; please report.


    That question lit a small light bulb in my thoughts.


    I knew that Sophia Granger, this guy''s mother, and Antony''s wife, was a genius telepath, having achieved special ranking at the age of 22, and she could easily alter the psyche of anyone not at least rank 3.


    In view of his question I retorted, "Do you know what an E.G.O. is?"


    He replied, "According to Freud, an ego is the personality structure of every human being, plus what does that have to do with my question?"


    (Ruhby): "No, I am not talking about the ego of the persona, I am talking about the Ostrea Generating Structure."


    (Azazel): "Generating Structure of what?"


    With his question, I knew I got it right.


    This guy''s mother changed his memories and the way he saw the world.


    This guy was born without E.G.O. and his mother hid everything to do with Ostrea from him, thus showing a version of the world without Ostrea. It seems that I will have to explain to him that the world he lived in was a big lie invented by his mother, but how am I going to explain to a 21-year-old man who thinks that the strongest person in the world can lift 500KG and that everything is a beautiful version of the 21st century?


    I think hunting for a six-armed piano player is easier.


    (Ruhby): "Well, how am I going to explain this to you. Let''s start with the E.G.O.. Do you know what an acephalous child is?"


    (Azazel): "It''s a child born without a brain.


    (Ruhby): "And what are the parts that make up a human brain?


    (Azazel): "But what kind of question is this, I just killed my father, I was arrested in the act, there are a bunch of people who look like they came out of the comics on the other side of the wall, and you ask me about the structure of the human brain?


    To calm him down I demonstrate my anomaly. I pull a cigarette from my pocket, light it, and, as I smoke, I control the smoke and write in the air: "Answer my questions".


    Confused, he continues.


    (Azazel): "Being very simplistic, the human brain is composed of the frontal lobe, temporal lobe, occipital lobe, and the parietal lobe.


    That''s it, this guy has 267 IQ and has done more colleges than I can remember, there''s no way he knows the structure of the brain and doesn''t remember E.G.O.


    (Ruhby): "What about the E.G.O.?"


    (Azazel): "This so-called ego again, are you talking about the center of our personality or this so-called what-if generator?"


    (Ruhby): "The E.G.O. is the main part of the human brain, usually doctors don''t see much difference between a child being born brainless or aegonal, in both cases the child dies within hours. It is the brain structure responsible for absorbing the radiation in the atmosphere and transforming it into Ostrea, a form of energy that allows each person to manifest his or her anomaly. A child born without E.G.O. cannot absorb and transform the radiation, and they usually die within 2 days."


    (Azazel): "Are you saying that there is enough radiation in the earth''s atmosphere to kill a normal child without this E.G.O. in 2 days? The only way that would happen is after a nuclear war."


    (Ruhby): "Nuclear war has already happened sir Azazel, in the history classes given in elementary school all children learn about the war that happened 3000 years ago, that caused the human brain to fine and generate the E.G.O. allowing humanity to survive a radiation infested world, develop anomalies, and that this same war created the Abnormalities."


    (Azazel): "Abnormalities, anomalies, E.G.O., if I hadn''t seen my father destroy a car with his bare hands, a 10-foot cop with horns, and now you making smoke signals with your mind, I''d think I was crazy. Actually I think I am."


    (Ruhby): "I am as confused as you are Mr. Azazel. For a child to survive without an E.G.O., let alone live for 21 years, is unprecedented. Your mother is a Special Ranking Telepath, not that I think you understand how amazing that is, but, I fear that your whole life has been a manipulation, a lie orchestrated by your mother, to keep you from seeing the real world. I have many questions for you, Mr. Azazel, and I think you also have many questions. This interrogation room is very uncomfortable, let''s go to my office, it''s upstairs. We have a lot to talk about.


    I stand up, take off Mr. Azazel''s handcuffs, and move to open the door, then, I feel a frightening aura. Something I have never felt before in my life. Fear spreads down my spine as I bend slightly to look through the glass to see what kind of monster could be so frightening to make me, a rank 5 fighter, almost fall over shaking, when I can see enough of what presents itself is a large, imposing figure, a giant, too old to be as muscular as he was, he wasn''t as big as Corporal Timoth, who was ten feet tall, but still huge, his waist length gray hair shone in the lights of the department, his beard wasn''t much different. I heard his voice, husky and loud, and then I recognized this man.


    (White Claws): "First that worm Antony marries my daughter wanting to steal my family''s name, then he has an Aegon son, and now the bastard died to a kid who shouldn''t even be alive, that bastard really wanted to ruin my legacy, it''s good that he died, now, where is that kid who killed a so-called Rank 8 who had combat skills comparable to a Rank 6?"


    That man who was talking at the entrance of the police station and had such an imposing aura was the head of the Granger house, the special ranking one, the representation of the White Color, "White Claws" Verith Granger, the White Angel.

 Chapter 3:Seeing the true colors of the word

    AZAZEL GRANGER POINT OF VIEW


    In my mind I was beginning to form a solid idea of what was going on.


    If everything that Officer Ruhby said about this nuclear war, powers that they call anomalies, my mother being a telepath, if everything she said is true....


    ...you can get an idea why my father broke a car with his bare hands, and why he saw me as a nuisance in his life.


    As I get up to follow Officer Ruhby to her office I notice that she is startled by something.


    I approach her, touch her shoulder and ask her what frightened her.


    (Ruhby): "Well, for you, who don''t know anything about Ostrea and the anomalies, I''ll introduce you to someone you already know.


    She points to the glass on the wall, seeming to want to highlight a man, who I recognize to be my grandfather.


    (Ruhby): "Meet "White Fang" the Angel, your grandfather. When it comes to anomalies, each person can manifest their anomaly to a different degree, depending on how well they can process the radiation in their E.G.O.. The more radiation a person can process, the higher their ranking on the Du''teal scar. These rankings go from 10 to 1, 10 being the lowest and 1 being the highest, above ranking 1 there is the Special ranking, where a person can process more radiation than the devices can measure. But your grandfather is a special case among special cases. He is recognized by the government as a "Color". Measuring ability among members of the special class is impossible today, there are no devices that can differentiate how much radiation these members can process in their E.G.O.''s. Plus, in very special cases, the government gives a person a "ranking" above the special ranking. This ranking is known as the "Colors", because that is literally what it is. Above the special ranking are 7 people who have been given a "Color", to represent that they are something above what can be expected from something special. Your grandfather is something above that. He is known as the "Representation of White", the first Color. The Human with the most powerful Anomaly in history, and the strongest E.G.O., the white-clawed Angel, Verith Granger. When it comes to anomalies, there is no one greater than your grandfather." -Maybe the representation of the black one, that crazy guy who thinks he''s the hero of every story is on the same level as Verith, but that''s too much for me to explain to Azazel right now, and no one really knows who of the two is the stronger.-This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    After we leave, I greet my grandfather who, when he notices my presence, gives a loud laugh, approaches me, and asks me:


    (Verith): "Looks like that old pocket knife was useful after 300 years, wasn''t it?"


    Looking at the knife that was inside an evidence bag on the counter to our left, I answer: "Yes, it seems that you saved my life once again in flight. Only, this time, I''m not sure that staying alive was the right thing.


    (Verith): "Your father was, is, and always will be a worm, a drag on my family, he only did two good things, you and your sister, both are great in different ways, but it seems that you are great in more than one way.


    As I talk to my grandfather I notice the current situation in the department. The policemen, who before were frightened by my grandfather''s presence, now seem intrigued by his personality, and some seem even more intrigued by the pocket knife my grandfather gave me. I am interested in why they were intrigued by this old thing, older than I imagined, but I have much more serious business to attend to now, so I say goodbye to my grandfather, after explaining the situation in more detail to him.


    The sequence of events introduced me to one of the essences of this world. When Officer Ruhby was explaining to me how the E.G.O. worked, I was a little confused about what the Abnormalities were. She mentioned several times these two things: anomalies and Abnormalities. I had thought it was just two ways of referring to the same thing, but there I met my first Abnormality.


    RUHBY REED''S POINT OF VIEW


    Damn it!


    I was distracted when the Angel mentioned that pocket knife, I couldn''t believe that it actually existed.


    I didn''t even notice when one of the inmates in a cell started to deteriorate. This must have happened because his E.G.O. was collapsing, maybe because of drug abuse, and even more so the presence of the Angel here must have affected him.


    Why did an Abnormality have to appear right away.


    At least the Angel is here, if anything gets out of control, he should be able to handle the situation.

 Chapter 4: The first meeting with death

    RUHBY REED''S POINT OF VIEW


    I remember reading this guy''s file. If I am not mistaken his name is Edward, a small time drug dealer with a stupid anomaly that made his nails look like claws. My men arrested him carrying a suitcase full of Ostrea, a very serious crime since the only way to get Ostrea material is to rip it out of a living person''s brain.


    This guy, who was a rank 9, is now emanating an aura equivalent to a rank 5. Apart from me, no policeman in this department is above rank 6.


    Will I alone be able to handle a rank 5 abnormality?


    This thought kept running through my mind, until Mr. Azazel leaned on my shoulder and asked me:


    (Azazel): "What''s going on with that guy? He seems to be in a lot of pain"


    (Ruhby): "His E.G.O. is collapsing. This happens when the brain develops a tumor in the E.G.O.. These are rare cases, but once in a while, when a person is exposed to more radiation than the E.G.O. can process, it can create a tumor in that area. This can happen from drug abuse, or from being directly exposed to too much radiation. When this happens the person''s anomaly loses control, the E.G.O. spreads like a cancer throughout the brain, often destroying the person''s mind, leaving only a body with primitive, often aggressive instincts, and, because of the sudden increase in the size of the E.G.O. and the radiation it can process, it becomes much stronger than it was before."


    I brace myself to fight that brainless thing. Immediately I draw my pipe made of Tungsten, the best source I have for generating smoke. My anomaly is that I can control the smoke particles coming out of my lung, a rare combat ability, and, if used well, a very powerful one, but, as I prepare to move against the Anomaly as soon as it has finished transforming, a giant hand grips me by the shoulder.


    The force of that hand prevents me from moving a single muscle.


    Then I hear it:


    (Verith): "I want to see with my own eyes the strength of an aegono that managed to kill Anthony. You there, officer "John?", pass that knife to my grandson."


    I can''t believe it. This old man wants to kill his own grandson. An aegon that has lived 21 years is a unique case. How much medicine and science could advance with him. But with just the pressure of him holding me by the shoulder, I knew. One movement I tried to force, he could effortlessly cut me in half. All I can do is pray to whatever God makes Azazel survive this.


    AZAZEL GRANGER POINT OF VIEW


    I''ve learn some martial arts trough my life. At least I think so, since, by the looks of it, my life has been a lie.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    From what Ruhby said, this thing is beyond saving, and since the officer immediately handed me the knife when my grandfather told him to, it seems that he is in control of the situation.


    I have already been through the trauma of killing my father, I guess killing a monster with no conscience won''t be so difficult.


    I take the pocket knife, open it, and advance towards the target, until I hear a shout, "WAIT!".


    It was Ruhby. I look at her expecting an explanation.


    (Ruhby): "When an E.G.O. is in the process of collapsing, the radiation inside it becomes unstable. If you attack it now, it could end up exploding, and you don''t want to know how big an explosion these things cause.


    I reply, "Just let me know when I can attack."


    As I patiently wait for my signal, one thought has not left my head.


    I always knew I was different from everyone else, not just because of my intellect, but, so many things at once, well, I guess there is no point in me trying to deny it, whether I have gone crazy or not, all I can do and follow the road that presents itself in front of me.


    While I was thinking I noticed a change in the criminal. Before, while he was just sitting in his cell, he looked like a normal man, by the standards of what I have seen so far.


    He was a somewhat short man, smaller than me. He must have been around 5 feet. and a little chubby, only now he had gotten taller, and quite thin. From his hands extended large red claws, it seems that they became that way because of the accelerated growth he had gone through.


    His eyes, which were completely white as he was writhing in pain, were normal again, and he stood there staring at me. That''s when I heard, "Now!"


    I had no time to advance against the thing, which could no longer be called a man, beast would be more appropriate.


    He advanced against me. His attacks were predictable, after all, he had no pattern, he attacked by instinct, with no sense in his movements, the thing that helped me the most was that, because of his lack of intellect, he didn''t use more complex attacks, he simply tried to hit me with his claws, relying exclusively on his superior speed and strength, things that were easily overshadowed by my reflexes and reasoning.


    A 210-degree uppercut with the left hand, a straight jab aiming for the chest with the right hand, followed by continuous lateral movements, like a futile attempt to hit what was in front of him, dodging it was a boring game. The only image in my mind was of a child trying to hit something, too scared to open her eyes, simply attacking without any line of thought about what she should do next. That thought made me agonized, that man''s mind had deteriorated to a point lower than a child. It....


    ....no way back, his life was over. I tried to ease his pain as quickly and painlessly as possible. Unlike my father, his muscles were not big and strong, they were more like what you would expect from someone malnourished, despite his immense strength and speeds. With my grandfather''s pocket knife I made a single puncture in the back of the skull at an opportune moment. The creature fell over instantly. I couldn''t help but feel weak in the face of this situation. When I had killed my father it had been an accident, and in self-defense, he had wanted to kill me, but this was different now. He was an ordinary person. As much as he was a criminal, he didn''t seem to be someone aggressive. He had no fight marks on his body, and, considering that he was a chubby little fellow, I doubt that he would have come out unscathed from all the fights he might have fought. He was probably just another crime mule, too desperate to get anything done, and now, just another body of someone who will never be remembered.


    VERITH GRANGER VISION


    I can''t believe my eyes are seeing. This kid, without an E.G.O. just killed a level 5 Abnormality without breaking a sweat, and it looked easy to him.


    In my 1600 years of life, I have never seen anything like it.


    Looks like I''ll have to talk to Dr. Lucas about it.

 Chapter 5: The word where i live now

    RUHBY REED''S POINT OF VIEW


    "Men, get that body out of here now. Take it to Dr. Raphael, see if he can find out why this guy collapsed."


    Verith immediately left as soon as she saw what her grandson had done. I still can''t believe it. That thing, it was much faster than me and looked very strong. I''m sure I would have a hard time fighting it, but, this guy, he dominated that Abnormality like it was no big deal. It''s not like he was faster or stronger than that thing, but it looked like he could see into the future, that thing couldn''t hit him no matter how hard he tried.


    I wanted the Blue Marshal to see that.


    After tidying up the mess the anomaly had made in the department, I see that Azazel has been waiting for me, sitting down in one of the chairs that had been left standing.


    I guide him into my office, leaving the rest of the mess to the policemen who worked there on the second floor.


    I sit in my chair, staring at him as I try to remember what we were talking about before all this happened.


    What a full day.


    AZAZEL GRANGER POINT OF VIEW


    "So Ruhby, you explained to me about several things, you told me that my whole life is a lie, you arrested me in the act when I killed my father, my grandfather made me kill a man inside the police station. Which sentence should I expect, death or perpetual? "


    At that moment I just wanted to get it over with. In the world I lived in, killing one''s father in cold blood, being caught in the act, and on top of that, killing a man inside the police station was a different way to commit suicide, but considering that by the way my life was all a lie, I don''t know if death would be such a bad thing.


    (Ruhby): "As for the anomaly death, don''t worry about that, the state not only encourages anomaly hunting but also pays the person, according to the level of the anomaly he hunted. There are plenty of bounty hunters out there, although most can''t handle a level 5. As for your father''s case, this is going to be more complex, but if you can prove in court that your mother manipulated your mind using her anomaly, you are acquitted, and your mother is special class, she is a citizen who would only respond to national or war trials. A common crime like murder involving someone of special rank is not accepted by any prosecutor, so you have no case."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    As much as hearing this takes a weight off my shoulders, I will still throw the blame for my father''s death on my mother. I don''t want to do that, but, I don''t think I have a choice.


    (Ruhby): "You can also argue self-defense, say that he was much stronger than you and that he was trying to kill you, and there are other ways out."


    While she was talking, her phone rings.


    (Ruhby): "Third PD, Second Lieutenant Ruhby, who do I speak to? ... Yes ... Yes sir, immediately sir!"


    "Well, it looks like you''re going to be busy with some things. I''m going back to my cell, I have a defense to mount."


    (Ruhby): "You won''t need it. The DA just called me, he said that all charges against you have been dropped, the case has been dismissed, and, everything involving Anthony Reinhardt''s death has been put under national secrecy at the request of a Color."


    "Looks like my grandfather saved my ass again"


    (Ruhby): "That''s exactly what I don''t understand. When your grandfather walked through the door of the police station I already knew that there would be no case against you, but, the color that requested the secrecy of the case against you was not your grandfather. Well, anyway, you can go Mr. Azazel, I hope to see you again, without that uniform of course."


    "My friends call me Zel, I guess, but you can call me that. Thanks for clearing everything up Ruhby."


    I walk slowly to my sister''s house, hoping my mother will be there.


    I''ve always liked walking, I''ve always taken long walks, and as much as it''s almost two in the morning, the city seems so... Peaceful.


    Such a cozy silence, almost impossible to reach. Eventually interrupted by a passing car or someone shouting inside his house, but nothing could catch my attention, my mind, distracted by so many things, finally managing after a whole day to build a solid image of what was happening, of the world that presented itself before me. In my 21 years of life, I can''t remember a single day when I didn''t know exactly what I wanted to do, what my plans were for at least the next two months, but now I just wanted to know what I was going to say when I met my mother. Should I tell her that I....


    A BANG CAN BE HEARD


    (Driver): "Damn, what was this guy doing walking around looking up, how could he not notice a truck. Shit, I should have slept at that gas station, what am I going to do, what am I going to tell my wife, that I killed a man? Screw it, you know what, I''m going to get the fuck out of here, this fucking street doesn''t have any cameras, if no one saw it, it''s going to stay here."


    I calmly stand up as the man leaves, my clothes were destroyed by this beating, but it helped me put my head on straight. Apparently not having an E.G.O. is a death sentence in this world, if they know how my body structure works, I could end up a lab rat. I thought, my whole life, that I was different, that I was the freak, that I had to stay hidden behind a face and a book, not changing anybody''s life with a crazy that won''t die, but, it seems that I finally entered a world where I can be who I am, and I can finally do what I want.

 Chapter 6: The Beginning

    One month later


    AZAZEL GRANGER''S POINT OF VIEW


    "Introducing myself.


    Azazel Granger, Soldier Second Class, Rank 10, ready for duty Ma''am!"


    (Ruhby): "I still can''t believe you asked your grandfather to put you in the police force, let alone the team specializing in Abnormal control. What''s even harder to believe is that he agreed, and, on top of that, arranged for you to become my double."


    "Yeah, it seems that the influence of one color is no joke."


    (Ruhby): "We''ve been mounting a high-profile case for the last month, a conscious abnormality. I hope you have educated yourself about how the world works in the last month."


    "St. Ruhby, I have 7 PHD''s, as much as my colleges were my mother''s delusion, and all my life I spent in my grandfather''s mansion thinking that was the world, what I learned was not a lie. And I''m a fast learner."


    (Ruhby): "Then explain, what is a conscious Abnormality."


    "A conscious abnormality refers to an individual whose collapse process partially or completely maintained the frontal lobe, causing the individual''s persona to remain, partially or completely, intact."


    (Ruhby): "Hum. Good. But know that of the abnormalities, the conscious ones are the most dangerous. Don''t even think about comparing this case to that thing you killed at the police station."


    I notice that Ruhby has moved up in rank in the last month. She is now ranked 4.


    I have to look around. Find out if there are others like me. Find out how a society that took millennia before the nuclear war to get where it was got to where it is today in 3000 years. There are so many new things to do, without having to hide behind a mask.


    But nevertheless, it is better to keep my real capabilities secret.


    "So, what do we know about our target?"


    (Ruhby): "He is a trafficker. From weapons and drugs to wildlife and human trafficking, anything that anyone will pay for that he doesn''t have in a store this guy sells. We don''t know who he is, we have no name, no picture, no ID, nothing. The teams involved are calling him "Ghost". The only connection we have with this crime boss is one of the arms of his organization. A subsidiary of a subsidiary. A local gang that has gained a lot of notoriety recently because of one troublesome member. His name is Zeen Carl, he is called Zeca on the streets, a former construction worker who happened to witness a radioactive accident. A company, S Corp, specialized in military training of E.G.O.''s crashed a truck full of Plutonium that was destined for a military base to be distributed among the cadets. This guy thought he could get out of rank 9 and go straight to Special with a huge load of Plutonium. It was obvious that he was going to collapse, but luckily for him, he managed to stay conscious after the collapse, joined some little gang, and moved it up the ranks quickly, since the bastard got a rank 3 E.G.O. out of it. Being an anomaly, we are allowed to use lethal force. But, we have to get information to get at our real target." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "So, we''re catching a small fish to use as bait for the big fish?"


    (Ruhby): "Pretty much.


    "So, where do I start?


    (Ruhby): "First we have to find Zeca. We already have men looking for him on the streets, but you are a new recruit, no one has ever seen your face in uniform, and on top of that you have no aura, the police would never accept you if it wasn''t for your grandfather. With this in mind, I want you to infiltrate their gang undercover, the name on the street is Bull Dog''s. Find him, and we''ll be one step closer to becoming Ghost Busters."


    "Yes ma''am!"


    I remove myself from the room and prepare to leave the department.


    A local gang specializing in radioactive product trafficking, Bull Dog''s. Funny, bull dog''s are small dogs that have been trained to kill bulls, I guess that''s the idea behind the name of this gang, to be the little guys that will take down a big bull, the system.


    To their misfortune, among my colleges I took animal science. And psychology.


    I change in the department locker room and hit the streets, looking for some way to contact this gang, from the information I have been given they are mainly active in the areas of districts 14 and 15. Considering that they have gotten a recent boost from conscious abnormality, I think they will try to take control of district 10 which is close to 14 and has great notoriety, they will want to get someone bigger to make a name for themselves.


    I head for district 10. The trip takes a few hours as my family, much more noble and wealthy than what my mother had made me think It was, lived in district 2 and, the police station that I work for is also located in this district.


    The municipality I live in is called Eden, the capital of the global military titan Lost Paradise Republic, one of the most influential first world countries on earth, and one of the three pillars preventing this world, controlled by people who could sweep a city with one breath, from being destroyed again, the Lost Paradise Rep is known as the most militarily developed country in the world. One of the economic and military powers, which has its dependencies divided into districts. State districts and municipal districts. The state districts are divided by names, and the municipal districts by numbers. 21 states, 312 municipalities. I wonder how many bandits and how much corruption I will have to deal with until I reach my goal.


    The trip finally ends.


    When I arrive in district 10, the scene I am presented with is shocking. As much as in my years studying politics I have read about places like this, I have never seen, nor imagined, that this could be possible.


    From what I can see, the district is a very poor place. There are no individual houses, just huge buildings, all of them clearly older than I am, and none of them look as if they have ever been renovated.


    The streets that extend through the city are totally irregular. Unlike the district where I live, where all the streets are well organized and easy to get around, in this one the streets are narrow and confusing, many streets don''t even have names and don''t even appear on any map, as if they were made after mapping, and nobody cared to register them.


    I start to simply walk down some of these streets. My clothing is the most worn I have ever owned. An old shirt and shorts that I wore when I trained in parkour. It seems that getting these clothes that I wouldn''t dare wear even if I were staying at home was the right choice. They look pretty good considering the average I see of the people who pass me on the street.


    The gang I try to join, the bull dog''s, have an identification mark, a tattoo on their cheeks, simulating those of a bulldog.


    As intelligent as I am, I have never had any contact with any kind of criminality. My town is strongly guarded by the four colors that reside there: White, Red, Orange, and Yellow.


    The white one is my grandfather, and thanks to him I met the red one, a doctor, Lucas. Funny, in this country and practically in the whole world, nobody knows the Bible, a book that has been lost through the ages, being known only in the Exordium Federation, a theocratic country from what I understand, and yet, there are biblical names everywhere, even the red one''s representation is a doctor and is called Lucas, the name of the apostle who was a doctor.


    I don''t know how I would manage to infiltrate a gang, but what else can I say, first I have to look like a criminal, so let''s start with the basics, I''ll find some members of the bull dog''s gang and we''ll rob a truckload of money.

 Chapter 7: Odyssey

    Considering the absurd amount of money my family has, getting us a truck to steal is easy and no one knows I''m part Granger, after all, my very existence was kept secret, all the friends I thought I had were Granger house servants, trained for just that, everything I did was inside a mansion, big enough to look like a city.


    Telepaths are a problem, good thing they are rare.


    I keep walking on the streets of district 10, until I find my target, a group of young men, around their 16 to 20 years, 5 of them sitting on a corner, it seems that this was the spot where they sold their wares, and the bull dog''s tattoo on their cheeks.


    I approach and, since I have no knowledge or experience of how to act as a thug, I simply introduce myself as a private security worker who has access to plans for a convoy filled with radium 226, a decated form of uranium.


    When I approach them and talk about the subject I wanted to present, I am surprised by their reaction.


    As much as I have studied oratory and have good skills in cold reading and manipulation, the way in which I managed to make them believe my story was surprising.


    15 or 20 minutes of talking and explaining the situation was enough to make them give me their boss''s contact information and set up a meeting to plan the robbery.


    Everything was going much better than I had imagined. The meeting had been scheduled for that evening, but it was still almost noon, I still had plenty of time to spare since I had already built up the entire plan of action during the trip to district 10.


    I head downtown, getting lost several times since, as much as I am a genius at almost everything I try to do, my sense of direction has always been similar to that of a blind and dumb person.


    I try to find the most decent place to have lunch, but it seems that all the restaurants here have failed the health surveillance test.


    I walk into the nicest one I can find and, to my surprise, my partner is sitting at one of the tables.


    I approach her.


    "Hello miss, do you always come here?"


    (Ruhby): "Is that the best line you can think of with your 267 IQ?"


    Unfortunately I never got along with women, after all, all the ones I met were strictly "oriented" not to have any kind of love relationship with me. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "I got a meeting with their boss. It''s going to happen tonight. I have two plans of action in mind. First, we can attack the meeting itself and try to arrest them on the spot, or, I can present my plan to them and we ambush them inside the truck."


    (Ruhby): "Well, nothing guarantees that Zeca will actually be at that meeting, maybe he will send one of his goons to negotiate with you, but, if you can convince them to steal the truck, he will definitely be there. It looks like we''re going to make a trojan horse."


    "Including, how did you know I would come to this restaurant?"


    (Ruhby): "I didn''t. I got hungry and this is the best restaurant in town."


    "Considering your size you getting hungry must be a common thing indeed."


    BAM!


    One right on the nose. I could have dodged it, but I think she would be more annoyed if I did.


    I order a more common and very light dish near the mountain that was in front of her, but I don''t make any comment, for fear of ending up swallowing my fork.


    After we talk more about how the operation would go I say goodbye and go to make the preparations since, as easy as getting a truck from one of the security companies that transports radioactive materials is, it would still have to leave one of the 5 central districts where these companies are located and come to district 10.


    Hours pass, the preparation is done. The meeting, scheduled for 10 p.m. arrives and I go to the appointed place. A giant and, apparently, abandoned company.


    When I arrive I am searched by several men, all with military weaponry, something that surprises me since, as much as they have gained notoriety recently, getting this weaponry should not be easy. It shouldn''t be.


    After a thorough search I am taken to an office inside the factory. In the office is Zeca''s right-hand man, a criminal known as Fishy, and next to him, one of the members of the group I met on the street.


    (Fishy): "So, I heard from my colleague here that you have access to routes of a cargo that my boss is interested in. Why don''t you share it with us?"


    "The maps of this city are inaccurate. There are many streets that are not recorded, so I was instructed a few weeks ago to make a mapping for a special radio 266 escort. I know the route they will take, and the point where they will be most vulnerable. I want 30% of the value of the cargo and a way out of the country."


    (Fishy): "Smart. Get the money and get out fast, a good plan. How safe will the truck be at this ''most vulnerable'' point?"


    "It will have to go through one of the unnamed streets, it is between 52 and 56, it is a narrow street and no security, it will be accompanied by only a couple of motorcycles, one in front and one behind. If you can stay, not on the street, but inside the houses, and attack from the sides, they won''t have a chance.


    (Fishy): "So, it looks like luck is on our side. I live on this street. When is this cargo going to arrive?"


    "That''s the problem. For security, the company doesn''t let its employees leave the premises until the day of the missions. The cargo will be escorted this early morning. It leaves District 4 at 11:30, it will pass this street around 3 a.m."


    (Fishy): "Yes my friend, it looks like you are going to be rich, and I am going to be twice as rich HAHAHAHAHA....."


    Well, his nickname makes a lot of sense, dumb as a fish, he took the bait so hard it''s pitiful.


    I keep explaining and making everything clear to him. When I finish we move to the spot and wait.


    When I look at my watch, it shows 02:44. It is time.

 Chapter 1: The first signs of sanity

    Am I the narrator of this story? Am I a character? Both?


    After all, until a few days ago, many people said I was crazy, but I always thought it was an exaggerated way of my friends and family talking to me, as if it was a way for them to "highlight" something in my personality that they liked, but after what happened that day, I now really think I am crazy.


    I always had problems with my parents, two alcoholic smokers who looked like they came out of one of the str**t fi**ter games so much they fought, but they always tried, in their own way, and they raised me well, but that day, when I went to visit them after almost a month, everything changed.


    Not that they had stopped drinking, smoking, or fighting, they were as normal as my parents had always been, but something was different.


    When I opened the gate and saw them fighting, every time my father screamed, the veins in his arm bulged in a very strange way.


    Usually, when I saw them fighting I just ignored it, but this time, the subject they were discussing caught my attention, my father was talking about something that had to do with some kind of ranking, something like that, he was shouting that when they got married he was ranked 8, and that he had a bright future, until that jerk was born.


    When he said this, I knew he was talking about me, after all, my older sister was "daddy''s favorite", he would never say something like that about her, but he always thought I was something like that, even though I scored 267 on the WAIS test (one of the most accurate IQ tests in psychology, where the world average is between 90 and 100) and was considered a genius by many people, he always saw me as a "nuisance".


    I kept watching, afraid that what was happening to his arm was some kind of illness, or something recurring due to his addictions. In this case I would have to call an ambulance, or use what little knowledge I had of medicine, from the time I was interested in anatomy, for help in case something went from bad to worse.


    But, the more the discussion heated up, his arm looked more strange.


    After he talked some more about how I was the worst thing that ever happened in his life, the veins that kept popping out on his arm started to "glow". It looked like someone had glued an LED to every red blood cell in his blood, and every time the veins pulsated, the glow appeared, stronger and stronger.


    I was already very upset by the situation, and that strange glow seemed to bother me even more, so I went over to stop them, something that was unusual for me, I usually let them handle themselves without interfering, but that glow and the way my father acted, it seemed that something bad was about to happen.


    As I approached, my parents finally noticed my presence, and, to my surprise, they turned pale.


    My mother looked panicked, as if everything she had done all her life had been destroyed.


    My father, as surprised as he looked, I could see relief on his face.


    Those were the last words I heard from my father, "Finally I''m going to be able to do what I should have done when I saw this freak!"


    As he said this, the glow on his arm seemed to transform. When he was arguing, the glow had been coming and going, like a pulse in sync with his heartbeat, but now it was different, it was solid, as if before it had been appearing out of impulse, anger, but now it was on purpose.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He came running towards me, I had been bullied at school, and I knew he was running to fight me, but, what happened, this, in my 21 years of life, I had never seen.


    When he closed his hand, formed a fist, and punched me, I naturally dodged, but what followed was abnormal.


    As I deflected, the punch that was aimed at my head hit the family car that was right behind me, and to my surprise, it looked like a battering ram had hit the car.


    Part of the door and the roof of the car were smashed in a frightening way and the car itself was dragged back a couple of feet.


    I couldn''t hide my surprise. A 52-year-old drunk man who had been smoking for at least 30 years and was pre-sedentary had just done something that you would expect H**k to do.


    I knew that if that punch had hit my head, his target, I would have gone straight to hell, and he seemed to want it, because he kept trying to hit me.


    He was willing, and eager, to send me to the grave, so I responded just the same. I had always carried a pocket knife with a bone handle, a gift from my grandfather, and I drew it.


    My father and I had always been the same height, 1.75. I knew the advantage in physical strength was his. I knew that the physical strength advantage was his, after all, he had just crushed a car with his bare hands, but the intellectual advantage was all mine. He must have had at most a 97 IQ, which, compared to my incredible 267, looked like a dummy trying to compare himself to Einstein. After hitting a 2-ton metal machine, his hand seemed intact, so I knew that my simple pocket knife would not hurt, unless I aimed well, and hit points on the body where the musculature was fragile or non-existent, the part covered by the glare was clearly impenetrable for a simple pocket knife. A .50 might pierce, but I didn''t have one in hand, and I didn''t want to kill my father, no matter how much he wanted to kill me.


    As I dodged his punches, his frustrated face seemed to get worse and worse, as if for him this was something impossible, and humiliating. More and more of his punches were imprecise, predictable, and full of rage.


    In one of them, as predictable as a Mexican soap opera, I managed to find an opening to his armpit. I knew that in the armpit are the nerves that control some of the most important muscles in the arm, and there aren''t many muscles protecting them, so that''s where I aimed, a cut, as precise and fast as I could.


    To my surprise, my pocket knife went through. A clean cut, almost surgically separating the nerves that were there. His arm stopped moving, and so did his face. I didn''t even know that a human could express so many emotions at the same time. A mixture of anger, pain, and confusion mingled on his incredulous face.


    The arm that I had cut off no longer had that strange glow, but the other one still glowed, only instead of the solid glow that it had had when he attacked me, it had returned to glowing like a pulse.


    My mother had just recovered from the shock when I cut his arm.


    I looked at her, who looked as incredulous and confused as my father.


    An instant, just a few seconds, was all I spent staring at my mother, and that was enough for my father, who I thought had given up his attack, to attack me again, and this time from behind.


    My hand shouted, "CAUTION!"


    My movements were automatic, by an almost superhuman reflex. My father, who had aimed at my spine, was leaning over, attacking me from below. My movement was clean, quick, precise, and, above all, terrifying.


    I had never killed anything in my life. Apart from ants, mosquitoes, cockroaches, and the occasional rat, I had never taken a life.


    But, by reflex, my move was unique. With my pocket knife, a single cut was made in the jugular vein, passing just above the trapezius muscle. The blood gushed out like a fountain.


    When I realized that I had just killed my father, I just stood there, staring, so many things were going through my mind, but I couldn''t seem to think of anything.


    I don''t know how long I stood there looking, but the next thing I remember was hearing a policeman''s voice shouting, "Hands up! Azazel Granger you are under arrest for the murder of Antony Granger, anything you say can and will be used against you in court.


    By Divine irony, or perhaps a joke of the Devil himself, it seemed that I had gone completely insane, after all, the policeman had horns and almost 10 feet, and the sky, which had always been blue, was green.