《The Zone》


 Jailed In The Beginning

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    This is actually a rewrite. I wasn''t all that good when I started it, so...


    Anyway, you can also read it at WordPress!</a>


    <hr>


    The sun shines in through the windows.


    My eyes fly open.


    ¡°A good morning, hopefully,¡± I say.


    I live in a small floating house. Nothing to brag about, or so most people would think. In reality, though, it was outfitted with enough firepower to blow an entire Omega to hell. Yeah. I didn¡¯t hold back.


    I myself don¡¯t pack much firepower. My cybernetics are mostly for defense, speed, and to enhance my brain.


    I¡¯m not a Warrior, after all. I''m a Builder. Warriors fight. Builders build. Violence is sometimes necessary, but not what I lived for.


    ¡°Nuh uh.¡±


    I get off my bed and stretch. The morning fog that is draped over my mind disappears. I blink, and the world comes into focus around me.


    In the corner, plugged into the wall, is a power-suit. It¡¯s dark violet and has two large claws mounted on its shoulder. The visor is silver and glints in the light. The metal parts are rugged, sharp, and streamlined.


    I walk over to it, my feet tapping on the ground.


    I find the signal of the suit in my neural implant. I broadcast on the same wavelength and frequency, and send a command over.


    The suit ripples open, the helmet hovering half a foot into the air.


    I walk to it and smile.


    <hr>


    My suit was a Builder¡¯s suit. Albeit, a poorly built one. I had been in a rush, and buying one was too expensive. It isn¡¯t wasn¡¯t built for too much heavy- lifting, but for mobility. I don¡¯t want to use public transport. I don¡¯t trust anything that doesn¡¯t have me piloting it.


    I get in the suit and it closes smoothly. The interior of the suit is soft and smooth. Hard metal is not very comfortable and can be very distracting in times of distress. Especially in times of distress.I reach up and grasp the helmet. I slide it over my head, and onto the grooves of the suit. It clicks shut and the H.U.D flares to life.


    The H.U.D is mostly just for show. All those blue patterns floating around my visual display possessed no real meaning, but ha, I like them.


    I think about something else.


    ¡°A Builder student in one of the most powerful schools out there. Huh.¡± I mutter.


    In our society, everyone goes through the schools. They form the base of our civilization.


    In the early ages, schools were a place of learning. Today, they still are but are much more efficient at it. They determine your rank, status, and ability. They can turn ordinary citizen A into a Warrior of the highest caliber, or a revolutionary Builder.


    Of course, this depends on the school they go to. It¡¯s not like any random school could pump out specialists that easily. Each person requires special training to grow. Some schools know exactly what sort of training to give, others don¡¯t. It takes a certain amount of effort to groom anybody. It isn¡¯t like you can turn into a Mecha-Warrior with a snap of a finger.


    Most schools are specialized for that reason, And only the best schools could afford to help in every path.


    I stretch my muscles. Then I go over all the systems. Green.


    The only problem I spot is a small glitch, a problem with one of the vents. I find the root of the problem, replace it with some patchwork code, and the suit is ready to go.


    I open the hangar doors via a mental command. I then kick my thrusters into drive. I fly out, and into the sky. An hour later, I¡¯m in space, flying among thousands of ships.


    There¡¯s a lot of traffic. Most of it is large carriers, while others are scout class ships, which are probably meant for nothing but personal travel. A shame. They deserve better than that. Some are flying solo, like me.


    With my implants, I could survive without air for¡­ thirty-two minutes, according to my calculations. Depressurization would not be a problem at all, maintaining my temperature would be, though.


    So, on average, if I crashed into one of these ships, leading to my power-suit being disabled¡­ I would have around ten minutes before I lose consciousness, and fifteen before I die.


    I chuckle.


    Thankfully, I¡¯m already adept at controlling my suit, despite the occasional problem that pops up.


    I fly forward a bit faster and slip through a gap. I twist and just barely avoid being crushed like a tin can.


    A flyer¡¯s head turns. He¡¯s using a glider and is to the immediate right of me.


    Gliders maneuver smooth, hence the name. They are a popular choice for luxury flight.


    He flies forward and does a barrel roll between three carriers.


    Was that a challenge?


    I smirk.


    Then I kick on the thrusters at sixty percent.


    <hr>


    Alarms blare into my ears. I shut them out.


    My venting system is compromised. Fuel is leaking out of it at this very moment. That glitch- was actually a physical problem that the system couldn¡¯t recognize.


    A bit of panic rises up in me.


    I knew this would happen, damn it. I shouldn¡¯t have rushed the suit.


    Alarms blare once again.


    Warning. Imminent threat of collision.


    It¡¯s the flyer who saves me.


    He, or she, swoops in, and pushes us both to the side, away from the stream of ships, and into a grey zone, It¡¯s the equivalent of a sidewalk.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I connect to my systems and notice the figure is trying to connect to me. Then I notice their visor is only half transparent, and so I make out that the figure¡¯s a he.


    I raise a hand, somewhat twitchily due to the damage, indicating for him to wait. He does.


    I assess the damage.


    A data blueprint shows up in the corner of my vision. A single glance tells me there¡¯s no hope for my suit.


    There¡¯s only one thing to do at this point. Call for help.


    I broadcast on a particular frequency. I have to use special relays, as the nearest Sentinel is far from here. Then I connect to the man in front of me.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± He asks


    ¡°Yeah. Though I need to get a new suit soon.¡±


    He chuckles.


    ¡°Do you need me to call the Sentinels?¡± He asks me.


    I shake my head.


    ¡°Already did. By the way, that was some good flying.¡±


    ¡°Ha. Not really. In all honesty, I thought you were going to win. Those were some peculiar moves. I¡¯ve never seen anything like them before.¡±


    I shrug.


    ¡°Sometimes, I get a bit too excited. The moves you saw were a result of that excitement.¡±


    ¡°Cool. I¡¯m Jack, by the way. Nice to meet you.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you too, Jack. I¡¯m Dan.¡±


    Just as I say that three blue and white ships zoom in on our positions.


    ¡°Ah, the Sentinels are here. Here¡¯s my tag. Maybe we can go out for a proper race sometime.¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°Sounds fun.¡±


    Tags are indestructible and contain the digital fingerprint of the person they are connected to. They could be used for a variety of things, like verification, profiles, and beacons. Communication too.


    Each person has a single tag located in their head. To get a person¡¯s tag you would need to have either an expert surgeon or an advanced med-pod on hand, neither are easy to have access to. Tags aren¡¯t easily replicated, either. Anyone who tries is caught and punished heavily.


    ¡°Though, I need a craft.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s no problem. I have some spare scouts gathering dust back home. I¡¯ve never seen your suit before, by the way. Did you get it custom made?¡±


    ¡°No. Well, yes. By myself.¡±


    ¡°Nice. Anyway, I need to go, so see you.¡± He says.


    ¡°See ya.¡± I say as his figure zooms off, leaving blue trails behind him.


    The Sentinel ships come to a stop near me. The door of the central ship slides open, and a man walks out. He has a silver strip lining his forehead and an ¡®A¡¯ is engraved in the center of it.


    An Android, and an A-ranked one at that.


    The connection with Jack cuts off, my comms being unable to handle long distance. In turn, I feel the Android try to connect with me.


    I open the channel.


    ¡°Citizen. You¡¯ve reported that your suit has malfunctioned. Is this correct?¡±


    Internally, I sigh. I know where this is going, and I¡¯m not going to like it. The first day of school and I¡¯m going to be late, damn it.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Your suit does not match any records on the database. Where have you acquired it?¡±


    ¡°I built it myself.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a registered Builder¡¯s license?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Were you aware of any problems your suit might¡¯ve had before using it?¡±


    ¡°¡­Yes.¡± Honestly, I was tempted to say no, but the android has advanced scanners and can tell I¡¯m lying. If I was given a moment to prepare, I could have probably set up my cybernetics to eliminate the signs of dishonesty.


    As it is, lying would have gotten me in more trouble.


    ¡°I see¡­¡± The android says, some distaste evident in his voice.


    Androids aren¡¯t built to function like humans. No, they have set rules and limitations, and can¡¯t change their own code. They are, in a way, limited. They are coded with an extreme sense of morals, and would not hesitate to do the ¡®right¡¯ thing. In most cases, that isn¡¯t a bad thing, but sometimes people could twist that to their advantage.


    Like me, for example. Once, I had been cornered by three androids. I had escaped by putting a gun to my head and threatening them with suicide should they not let me go.


    Of course, things aren¡¯t as simple as that, since if it was any normal person, they would¡¯ve gone and incapacitated them with their excessive firepower. Then again, my build is based on speed so I could have ended myself long before their attacks reached me.


    But now, all of that knowledge is pretty much useless. One, because I can¡¯t really move, not when my suit is disabled, and two, because I have turned over a new leaf.


    And things are already going to shit. Damn it.


    I am tempted, to hack into the android and the ships to simply erase any traces of this happening. But, I restrain myself, as that would only serve to complicate things further.


    The android moves forward.


    ¡°Daniel Zyron, for creating a power suit, and not registering it, and then going on as to use that very suit while knowing¡­.¡±


    I barely hear the rest of the android¡¯s words as two massive handcuffs lock around my Power-suit. I¡¯m then led to the ship where I¡¯m freed of my suit and handcuffs and sent to a small cell with a signal jammer somewhere nearby.


    I slink into the cell and sigh.


    And here I was hoping for a vacation.

 Capture Me Once...

    I rest my head against the wall. It feels cool.


    I ignore that and focus on the data my neural implant is giving me.


    Rarely would I ever let my guard down. Rarely could I let my guard down.


    My (mild) paranoia had made me install a couple peculiar implants. One of those implants lets me keep an eye on the composition of the air I was breathing in. Another lets me know about even the slightest bit of inertia, for a situation somewhat like this.


    Inertial dampeners are used for preventing us from going ¡°splat!¡± against the walls when the ship accelerates. However, there are always minor irregularities. Those irregularities are exactly what I¡¯m using to keep track of the ship¡¯s moments, and in the rare moments that I was in a ship that is not mine, I have it on and map out the path using some complicated programming.


    You can never be too careful.


    And, as it turns out, it gives me something to do, rather than just stare at the wall.


    I map out the path of the ship, using the data I¡¯ve gathered, and then guess that the ship would be taking us to Coris, a small outpost near a planet with a lot of volcanic activity. If I recall right, they use the harsh conditions on the planet for training.


    Which is¡­ a bit extreme, but not exactly surprising given how serious they take their jobs. That¡¯s the one thing you can admire about them.


    Somewhat absentmindedly, I tap the steel floors.


    Then, the little bits of data that are streaming from the implant suddenly change.


    I frown.


    We¡¯re going off course. Where to? Other outposts are too far away to be an option. Are there any Alphas out there? And are they going to take me to one?


    Omegas are battleships that are planet-sized. Each powerful, but very expensive. And so they are rare. The closest Omega is a couple hundred light years from here so I can guess that we aren¡¯t going to anyone of those. Unless we¡¯re going to a wormhole, which would still take a lot of time. I¡¯m not important enough for them to go that far.


    ¡°What am I, the head of Syntech?¡± I scoff.


    Syntech is a small but powerful company that sells arms. They¡¯re famous.


    An Alpha¡¯s satellite sized. They¡¯re relatively common and sometimes serve as mobile outposts for the Sentinels. They like to move Alphas around every other week, to keep the bad guys on their toes. So, it is possible.


    ¡°Hmm, third Alpha I¡¯ve been to then.¡±


    They are also nicely hidden from scanners. It would take some highly advanced tech to find them.


    The data stream changes again.


    I frown.


    The ship has stopped.


    The coordinates I¡¯ve calculated land us in a high radiation zone. It would be stupid to keep an Alpha here, radiation shielding or not. The radiation shielding might work in a mid-radiation zone, but the radiation in high radiation zones are really dangerous because of their unpredictability.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The best shields don¡¯t do shit against that type of radiation.


    Anyways, I get up, as my intuition is warning me that something is going to happen soon.


    As if right on cue, I hear the sound of laser fire. Alarms blare. The ship rumbles.


    I nearly lose balance.


    The data stream once again changes.


    The ship is moving again, somewhat in a shaky manner.


    The next few seconds gives me a challenge that is, figuring out the movements of the ship. It seems to be making evasive maneuvers.


    I frown yet again.


    It was trying to escape¡­? From wha-


    I almost face-palm as I come to a realization. They changed course to respond to an emergency beacon. Maybe a pirate ship, or fleet attacking a carrier. The pirates must¡¯ve been too much for them. They took fire, and now are retreating.


    Were.


    ¡°Shit.¡± I curse.


    The pirates have caught the ship. Either that or something worse that I haven¡¯t even thought of.


    What comes next would be the capture or execution of everyone inside, followed by looting. I don¡¯t care about the others, but I do care about myself. So, I start thinking of ways out.


    I hear the sound of metal tearing. It¡¯s shrill and nearly deafening.


    I wince.


    Then, I hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, followed by more laser fire. Maybe plasma too. Following that are screams, and curses.


    I tense.


    Whether it¡¯s because of the situation or not, I don¡¯t know, but my mind drifts.


    I can afford to show up late for my first day. Maybe even miss it. But being captured would mean I would take an unknown amount of time to escape. I had put in a lot of effort to get into the Zi school. I am not going to let it go to waste.


    What are my options?


    I glance down at my handcuffs.


    I look around. A toilet, in the corner. The door. The air ventilation duct. Nothing else.


    I can hear shouting now.


    The door opens. A woman stands there.


    Time slows down. Or so, it seems that way. In reality, I know it¡¯s my neural implants working in overdrive.


    The woman has cosmetic implants. High grade too. She looks good but too good. Especially for a pirate. A pirate woman. Her stance tells me that she also has some strength implants. Maybe some hidden implants that I should keep a watch out for.


    She has platinum hair. Her lips are curled into a manic grin.


    Sadistic tendencies, definitely.


    Her weapons only prove that further. They¡¯re basically long-range flamethrowers. Uses a special compound.


    Seeing past her reveals two faces. Both male. One lean and the other broad-faced. Intuition warns me that I should be wary of the lean one. Strange.


    I analyze my options. Then, I switch my implants back into normal mode, already feeling the heat.


    I cower backward, acting fearful.


    ¡°No! P-Please!¡±


    The woman grins, and shouts over her shoulder;


    ¡°Hey, Wren, I think I got a screamer here!¡±


    I widen my eyes, while the broad-faced man chuckles from behind. Or so I assume because I¡¯m too busy focusing on my facial muscles to pay attention to them.


    ¡°You go ahead, I have some work to do!¡± The broad-faced man shouts.


    Work? They call looting work? ¡­Really?


    The woman snorts.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    I raise my hands in surrender, muttering.


    ¡°Please¡­ no, I don¡¯t-¡± I swallow.¡± I don¡¯t want to-¡±


    My hands shoot upwards, a stream of white hitting the cuffs just as I jump to the side, avoiding what would¡¯ve been a horrible death.


    I snap the link between the cuffs, wincing as some of the molten metal hits my skin. I push the pain down and focus on the situation. Pain is only useful when you aren¡¯t in a battle.


    The woman looks at me warily.


    ¡°Smart. But tell me, can those brains save you from a grenade?¡±


    She grins at me, before detaching a small canister from her gun and tossing it at me.


    Now, this is exactly why I went for speed.


    I dart forward, catch the canister, which is now red-hot and smoking, and toss it back at her.


    I grin at her.


    She startles backward, but it¡¯s too late.


    I close my eyes just in time for the bang. When I open them, my ears are ringing, and the woman is writhing on the ground, blackened, and missing several chunks of flesh.


    A metal mesh, now barely visible over her flesh is probably what allowed her to survive the explosion. Unlucky for her, it only prolongs her suffering.


    I¡¯m not one to hurt people. I don¡¯t like making them suffer. But this is different.


    She was prepared to do much worse. And I didn¡¯t have anywhere else to toss the grenade to, either. I didn¡¯t have enough time to toss the grenade elsewhere.


    Another death on my conscience. An angry sadist if she survives. Shit.


    The lean man looks up at me. He looks completely undisturbed by the disturbing sight of his comrade, nearly dead. Not a single sign of rage, sadness, anything. Just coldness.


    I stare back at him.


    Then I jump back as a woman appears near me.


    She¡¯s flawless. There are no other words to describe her.


    She also has wings.

 A Friend

    A long time ago. Or at least, in my perspective.


    The engines needs some work. Minor damage caused by excessive use. I have only myself to blame for that.


    I can¡¯t go into battle with an engine like that. Not when it can break down at any moment. I need a replacement. Could be the time for an upgrade. I should have enough credits. But it also means I have to temporarily put some projects on pause. That¡¯s fine. Can work with that.


    Hmm, what next? I go through my mental checklist. Nothing left to do other than work on the schematics of my new engine.


    I close my eyes and sit back, listening to the dull roar of my ship. Everything else fades away.


    For a small second, I ponder over the feelings I get when I¡¯m like this. It¡¯s¡­ I wouldn¡¯t trade it for anything.


    Little bits and pieces, working in perfect synchrony, all clicking together. Just to move a big lump of metal. Complex lump of metal, I know.


    Slowly, I sink into a familiar trance.


    I start with the materials, starting with energy channels, then make the design spread outward, making hundreds of tiny changes as I use my implant to do the calculations, then focus on the¡­


    An hour later, the design is complete. Theoretically, it should work just fine, but I don¡¯t take chances. I connect to the ship¡¯s processor, using it to run simulations. I sit back, my eyes feeling strained despite me not using them for the past hour.


    Three hours past midnight, the simulations are done. A couple of small mistakes here and there, easy to fix, but would¡¯ve been fatal had I not found them.


    Another round of simulations later, and the engine design is done.


    I yawn.


    It¡¯s now dawn. There are implants to remove the requirement of sleep, and I have one, but I only use it in case of emergencies. It¡¯s no good to strain your mind like that, even if your body could take it.


    Currently, though, I¡¯m tempted, but then I decide against it, and go to my cabin where I sleep for a good six hours.


    Six hours, I feel, is not enough. Nevertheless, I force myself to get up, make some tea, and then set about my day.


    First thing I do is survey my ship, checking for any small trips, or irregularities. The habit had started because once I had been attacked in bed, and then my attacker had been kind enough to provide me the details of how he got in, and all the small details that anyone in their right mind would never have noticed, then mocked me for not having noticed them. After I had eliminated him, with the help of some obvious traps, which I had gloated to him about in turn, I started to check for those small details every morning.


    Today is like every other normal day. All safe.


    Next, assess the ship¡¯s condition. I connect to the ship¡¯s systems, go through the feeds, and then go over it again. Nothing except the normal.


    All check. Now, time to move out.


    I put on my stealth armor. It fits in right beneath my clothes. My skull¡¯s enhanced since a long time ago, so I don¡¯t have to worry about headshots.


    I¡¯m a bit over prepared, I know. I¡¯m just going to run an errand.


    Usually, most captains wouldn¡¯t have to run errands, as they have people doing it for them. I, however, am literally a one-man crew, and I have to do things like this personally. It takes a bite out of my time, but I didn¡¯t really mind. I don¡¯t want to be cooped up in my ship for too long. It brings up some unpleasant memories.


    I leave the ship, go through the outskirts of the space station before then reaching the center.


    The outskirts are mostly tunnels, hangers, maintenance, and cargo. The center is a large hollowed out grey sphere, with buildings on the inside. It makes for places to socialize, buy and trade. The space station is¡¯nt made for permanent residence unless you work in it. It is somewhat similar to a pit stop for space travelers.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I go to a familiar rhombus shaped building, the security systems instantly recognizing my tag. In the dim room, behind a counter, stands a man that likes to show off his cybernetics.


    Half of his face is green metal. His eyes are glowing blue orbs.


    Larry¡¯s a man who specializes in customized ship parts, and he¡¯s the best at his job. He¡¯s the one I trust with the construction of anything I require, as a captain. He¡¯s also very passionate at his job.


    Currently, he seems to be discussing various propulsion systems with two new customers. I could tell they¡¯re new by how unfamiliar they seem with the place.


    Larry glances at me, and I could¡¯ve sworn I saw a glint flash through those eyes, had he not looked back at his customers. One of the customers, a young man, looks at me, decides I¡¯m unworthy of his attention and turns back to Larry.


    I stand patiently, not wanting to interrupt. I myself know how irritating that can be.


    Once they are done, Larry turns to me, and asks,


    ¡°Is it something new?¡±


    I grin.


    ¡°An entirely new engine.¡±


    He gasps.


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me. Right?¡±


    I shake my head.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already sent you the schemes. Try to finish the job before the end of the week. I¡¯ll send you the money upon delivery.¡±


    He nods and is already accessing the schemes I send him before I¡¯m done with my sentence. I see his eyes widening and take it as my cue to leave.


    On my way out though, I stop as I run into a woman. I start to apologize, but then I catch sight of her face, and am stunned. I barely notice the two white wings as I stare into her eyes.


    She smiles, and it sends shivers down my spine.


    She leans forward and whispers into my ear. My eyes widen, and I snap my head towards where she was standing, only to discover an empty spot. Nearby people are looking at me strangely. I ignore their gazes and hurry out of the place.


    <hr>


    The Present


    That was the first time I saw her, four years ago. I¡¯ve always taken her to be a figment of my imagination since the words she spoke to me on that day are horrifying.


    I had doubted my sanity then. She hadn¡¯t returned till a year later, and so I had lived my life in blissful ignorance until.


    She¡¯s been visiting me ever since, with increasing frequency.


    I think of her as a figment of my imagination because I don¡¯t know how else to define her. No one else seems to see her.


    But the truth in her words does not agree with that theory. She¡¯s given me information I don¡¯t know but can easily prove. No figment of my imagination would know things I don¡¯t.


    But until I find out what she is, I¡¯ll keep thinking of her as a figment of my imagination. She¡¯s a puzzle I¡¯ve been trying to solve for the past four years, and have gotten nowhere with.


    Nowadays she pops up every week or so. But rarely does she have new information. She usually just lurks around me, creepily. I ignore her each time, and I¡¯ve gotten better at it. If she wants to tell me something, she would¡¯ve already done it.


    I turn back to the man, who seems to be both intrigued and disappointed at the same time. I try to decipher his thoughts, and then immediately give up as I know how irritating it can be to figure out the minds of certain people. This man, I¡¯m sure, is one of them.


    Behind him, a group of pirates enters the scene. In the corner of my eye, I notice that the woman has stopped writhing, and is unconscious. I¡¯d have thought she was dead if not for the weak rising and falling of her chest. The fact she¡¯s still alive meant she had much better implants than I had originally thought.


    The group of pirates has submissive postures.


    I frown.


    Looks like these three are pretty important.


    I screwed up bad, hadn¡¯t I?


    Pirates can get really nasty. Messing with the ones on top is not a wise decision if you want to live. I have to get a message out now, while I still have the chance.


    I activate my tag, the one I use¡­ for most of my illegal activities. I had used to like playing cat and mouse with the Sentinels. So while I¡¯ve been inactive for the past two years, the beacon I just sent out should be enough prompting for them to get their asses over here ASAP.


    Normally, it''s illegal to own two tags, and stupid too, since any decent scanner could pick up their presence. But, I had my second tag worked into the frameworks of my neural implant, indistinguishable. Not that that makes it legal.


    The broad-faced man from before rushes over to the woman¡¯s side, glaring at me. He then picks her up and runs past the group.


    The group has armor that¡¯s made from pieces of other armor, oddly intimidating, if you don¡¯t know it¡¯s meant exactly for that. Also to not waste resources, because, as they say, one man¡¯s junk is another man¡¯s treasure.


    Their armor might be made out of junk, but I myself know how deadly it can be. I used to be one of the people who made that exact type of armor. Not by choice, though.


    So, I know I¡¯m no match for them. And there isn¡¯t any place to escape to, either. I¡¯m cornered, and I know it. So do they.


    Their weapons are pointed at me in a way that suggests they¡¯re expecting me to lash out like a wild animal. I, myself, know how stupid that is. I would die within seconds. And that¡¯s if they¡¯re in a particularly good mood.


    So, I get to my knees, my hands up in surrender. My head bent, I do my best to conceal the smile beneath.

 Capture Me Twice...

    Darell¡¯s hunched over his desk, lazily watching the screen in front of him. He has bags under his eyes. On his desk, there are the packagings of various eatables lying around messily. He¡¯s sipping on some fruit juice through a straw.


    His job is simple. Keep a lookout for any distress signals, and then assign nearby Sentinels over to that location. It is also boring. It is rare for anything interesting to come up.


    The screen flashes.


    Beacon at coordinates 176A-563S. Tag identified as the Architect.


    Rare, but not impossible.


    The man raises his eyebrows.


    "Huh? A code name?" He mutters.


    He taps a few floating holographic icons. A moment later, a woman enters his office.


    "What is it?" The woman asks impatiently.


    "Beacon. Sent by the ''Architect''. Do you know... who this person is?"


    The woman frowns for a second.


    "The Architect was a Rogue active around two years ago. However, he''s been inactive for the past two years. We thought he must''ve¡­ perished fighting some pirates. He was a Rogue, but one with a strong sense of justice. He was classed as a Tactician, with a partner providing him tech. He also liked to leave clues for us to find, leading us to some... less moral Rogues and Pirates. He sent a beacon, you said?"


    Darell nods.


    "Interesting. He could''ve been captured and must''ve figured out a way to send a distress signal. Or he''s playing another game with us, which I find unlikely considering how long he''s been gone. Either way, we should send a group of Sentinels his way. A-ranking only."


    The man''s mouth is left slightly agape.


    "A-ranking... for a single Rogue? Doesn''t that seem a bit... over the top?"


    The woman smiles and shakes her head.


    "Not at all. He has evaded capture from an S-ranked officer before. If anything, I fear A-ranked officers aren''t enough. His capabilities are in high demand, but it is not enough to warrant the dispatch of S-ranked officers."


    "I''m... somehow finding that hard to believe."


    The woman shrugs.


    "Trust me. I''m the S-ranked officer he escaped from. " She snorts.


    "Funny coincidence, huh? I''ll be going with the squad to oversee this personally."


    "But-Divina! The Captain''s orders!"


    She smiles dangerously.


    "I''ll take care of that later."


    <hr><hr>


    After I surrendered, I¡¯m taken to the pirate''s ship, named the Emerald Drive. It¡¯s large, about one-third of an Alpha, If I have to estimate. My Builder''s aesthetics have me cursing whoever built the piece of junk.


    Freaking expensive junk.


    Darn, if I had those materials...


    I force myself not to complete that thought.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The winged woman, whom I like to call Lucy had twirls around in an enticing manner. She flashes me a smile, before disappearing.


    I ignore her.


    I am (once again) handcuffed, and led to an (another) cell. At least the pirates have the courtesy of providing me a nice view this time.


    Unlike the Sentinels, Pirates don¡¯t have top-notch cells. They don''t need them as much. And besides, they don''t pick up Warriors on a daily basis. As such, I¡¯m taken to a cargo room. They force me to sit on a filthy chair, with two men constantly pointing their weapons at me.


    They do know to keep a signal jammer nearby, though. Not that it would do any good now.


    They look like they need a bath. Or ten.


    I give them an unamused look. One of them sneers and shoves his weapon into my face, turning my head away from him.


    I don''t wince. I keep my face stony.


    That would be showing weakness. Pirates are like animals. They like their shows of intimidation, and preyed on the weak. Except for the smart ones. Those, you stay away from at all costs.


    Unfortunately, I had ended up running into three of them. And roasted one, too.


    The lean man doesn''t give a shit about her, though. I''m guessing he must be high up in the pirate hierarchy and has better things to do currently. That explains why he isn''t here, torturing me.


    The other guy must be with her at the moment.


    Nonetheless, I have limited time. If the Sentinels don''t arrive soon, I¡¯m screwed.


    I don''t feel anxious, though. What would happen, would happen. I need to work on getting out of here.


    I close my eyes and analyze the situation.


    Two pirates behind me. Both of them with plasma rifles. Estimated thirty-four shots per magazine, and three magazines on hand for each. Reflexes?


    I open an eye and look at them. They don''t as much as blink.


    "Hey!" I shout.


    They jolt. I assume they were busy thinking about women. And sex. And other nasty shit. Either way, they don¡¯t like being interrupted.


    I also note that their reflexes are average.


    "What?" The one who poked me says.


    I''m guessing he¡¯s the leader of the duo. Mostly because he seems to be the only one taking action. The other one doesn''t look smart enough to be a Strategist or a Tactician.


    "I need to take a piss," I say.


    I really didn''t, but they don''t know that. Besides, I can use my implants to... stimulate my bladder, if needed.


    The man growls.


    "You can take a piss here." He says.


    The other one laughs, his voice gravelly.


    I raise an eyebrow and smile.


    "Right here? Well, fine then."


    I reach down for my pants as their eyes widen. They turn around.


    I''m guessing because they aren''t exactly all that keen on looking at a guy''s... yeah.


    These guys aren''t all that smart, are they?


    I dart forward, my speed enhancements coming into play. I''m right behind the leader before he can even turn around. I pull my hand over his head, the chain of my handcuffs wrapping around his neck. I pull and turn him around just as the other points his gun towards me.


    He shoots.


    I wince as the man in my arms thrashes around, in pain. The other man is in shock.


    The man in my hands goes limp, his rifle falling to the ground. I let him go, bend and snatch the rifle, set it to stun mode, and then shoot the man while he''s still staring at the dead pirate.


    He goes limp too.


    I then walk to the chair, wrap my handcuffs around one of its legs, set one of my feet on the back support, and pull.


    I wince, as the handcuffs slowly slides off my hands. They aren''t exactly my size, and I¡¯m flexible, to begin with.


    Once it comes off, I rub at my wrist. I walk over to the unconscious pirate, drag him over to a corner of the room, and leave him there. On the other side of the room, are various crates, so I go over to take a look.


    Most of what I find are eatables, liquor, weapons, and ammunition. I abandon the rifles of the pirates for dual plasma pistols. They are common, light, and best of all, have lots of ammo lying around. I take four magazines, packing them into my pockets.


    Among some of the crates are ship parts. I tear off the cable of one, and use it to tie up the unconscious pirate. Then I gag him with the same cable. The cable¡¯s used in shipbuilding. It would take at least top notch B-ranked strength implants to break them apart. I doubt that the man can afford them, but as I take no chances, I wrap him with another round. It should slow him down at the least.


    I then break apart some of the things in the room and take some stuff that I am needing at the moment. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t carry all of it, so I just take five things. One is a processing core, another was a shard of terbium, and the othersare some A-ranked tools. There is an S-ranked mini-engine, used in jetpacks that I have to painstakingly leave behind.


    It weighs around three hundred kilograms.


    After I¡¯m done looting whatever I needed, I leave the room. I casually shoot the two pirates standing guard outside. They drop to the ground, unconscious. Then I feel like facepalming when I realize that tying that pirate up was for naught.


    I was originally going for stealth. But seeing as how they''d now notice that I¡¯m gone because of the two missing pirates, I have to change plans.


    I drag them both into the room. Then I go out again and remove a few panels. All while constantly looking over my shoulder in case anyone comes. Then I shoot the door mechanism and set the panels back in place. The only hint that the door isn¡¯t working is the non-functioning screen by the side of the door.


    I twirl the guns in my hands and grin.


    It¡¯s time for some action.

 Enemy

    Sentinel Base


    Nobody speaks. All seven of the people in the room are prepping for a battle. Weapons are checked, Power-Armor equipped, and batteries charged. All in silence.


    They don¡¯t speak. They coordinate just as well. No one bumps into each other. When a man¡¯s suit is stuck, two others come over to help.


    The door opens. A dark-crimson suit-clad woman enters. She wears a gaze that speaks of battle fervor.


    ¡°A Beacon was flashed at coordinates 176A-563S approximately half an hour ago. Three Sentinel ships, one carrying a student of Zi, had responded to the Beacon. Five minutes later, another beacon had flashed at the same location. This was the beacon of a Rogue that has been inactive for the past two years, codenamed the ¡®Architect¡¯. According to recorded data, he seems to be a Tactician. I estimate him to be A-ranked at the minimum. Priorities are for capture. His capabilities are in high demand, and we must not let anyone else get him. This is suggesting that he might still be there. Whether he is there or not, we must find the student.¡± Her gaze scans over the squad.


    ¡°Any questions?¡±


    Two of the men looked at each other. One raises his hand.


    ¡°I do not believe this¡­ Rogue to be important enough for our dispatch. What is our true objective here, Red?¡±


    The woman glares at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate him. I did so once, and I almost lost my foot. Now, if there are any proper questions?¡±


    No one speaks.


    A man rushes in.


    ¡°There are four people claiming to be teachers of the Zi school here. They want to talk to you.¡±


    <hr><hr>


    This ship is a piece of shit.


    I¡¯ve been traveling within venting systems for the past hour now. Occasionally, I pass by a couple of pirates wandering the ship. More than once I¡¯ve heard them talk about disgusting topics.


    I¡¯m unfazed. I¡¯m used to this shit, already.


    I pause at a grate. The ship A.I is staring at me. She¡¯s a five-inch tall cute girl floating above a disc.


    I¡­ raise a hand and wave, with a grin.


    She grins and waves back. She points to herself and makes a ¡®zipped¡¯ gesture.


    I give her a double thumbs up and continue crawling my way through the venting system.


    A.I¡¯s are like humans too. Most are built with a set of morals, and a bit of coding to make them protective towards their owners, ships, or whatever it is they are attached too. Not doing so would be fantastically stupid, for obvious reasons.


    This A.I is probably attached to the ship, not the pirates. Pirates backstab a lot, and so you¡¯d end up killing the A.I out of heartbreak if you made it attached to the pirates.


    So I don¡¯t think that last encounter¡¯s weird.


    I¡¯ve been navigating this place based on what I know about ships. The ventilation ducts should take me to the air refinery, and that should be in engineering. The main engine¡¯s located in engineering too. On the same level of engineering should be the ship¡¯s weapons. Above that would be crew quarters, along with life-pods. Above that is the bridge, where I¡¯m not heading too because I have better things to do than face pirate captains for the fun of it. Below engineering¡¯s the hangar, for smaller ships.


    Mostly scout class, because only real Alphas and Omegas could handle carrying around carriers.


    Still, it was impressive even to carry scouts.


    Freaking piece of shit.


    I sigh, just as I pass a grate. My eyes meet the eyes of a half-naked pirate. She screams.


    ¡°Ah, fuck.¡±


    <hr>


    Back at the Sentinel Base.


    The silence of before is replaced with excited chatter. Now there are around thirty teenagers standing around in the cramped room, in various groups. The squad from earlier is now standing in the front, expressionless. The red suit-clad woman is currently massaging her forehead as she speaks to a middle-aged man.


    ¡°This is risky, and you know it,¡± she says.


    ¡°No. We¡¯re sending three S-ranked Warriors with them. Besides, we¡¯ve already found out that it¡¯s just one pirate ship. All of these children are exceptional, and this proves for an excellent training exercise. Besides, it would not do good for our name, if we allowed anybody to just take our students.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The woman sighs and throws her hands up in exasperation.


    ¡°Fine. But if anything happens to these kids, it¡¯s not my fault. Get it?¡±


    The man nods.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already discussed all of this. Let¡¯s leave before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    <hr>


    I pull out my pistol and shoot her. In stun mode, of course. She collapses to the ground.


    Too late, though. Three pirates barge in and freeze at the sight of the unconscious lady for more reasons than one. I shoot them too. I switch the pistol back to kill mode and shoot the corners of the grate. Then I free myself.


    I really don¡¯t want to go for a frontal confrontation. But, damn it, I don¡¯t have a choice now.


    I set the pistols back to stun mode, just as two more pirates rush in. One manages to graze my arm, and I reward him with three shots to the head. The other goes down a second later.


    I run out of the room, shooting more pirates that are coming in my direction. I almost crash into one that was just leaving his room. I trip him with my momentum and continue running.


    I don¡¯t even know where I¡¯m going. I don¡¯t have the luxury to stop and find out, however. More pirates are rushing out. I¡¯d just kicked the anthill.


    Alarms sound.


    Seriously? That late?


    I reload my pistols, barely dodging some stray shots as I do. I jump into what looks like a chute.


    I find out that it¡¯s a gravitational elevator. I¡¯m launched upwards. A few minutes later, I slow to a halt. A door slides open.


    I jump out of the elevator and note more pirates following behind me. Ahead of me, there are still more pirates. I¡¯m surrounded.


    I don¡¯t let that stop me. I continue dodging shots as I move forward. I wince as one hits my hand, nearly taking off two of my fingers. I shoot the pirate right in front of me and use his body as a springboard to jump over the line. A second later, I¡¯m back on my feet, still running. My enemies are hot on my tail.


    Dimly, I note that there are some new signals popping up at the periphery of my vision.


    But at that moment, as I¡¯m distracted, my head hits an extended bar, and I¡¯m knocked on my ass. I groan, clutching my forehead and I weakly try to get up.


    That impact should¡¯ve killed a normal person. I had a strengthened skull and it still hurt.


    I have a few seconds till the pirates reach my position. I force myself to get up, disorientated, and continue to run. And then something explodes near me.


    I¡¯m flung backward, and I hit the wall behind me. I slump to the floor.


    My ears are ringing, my balance gone, and the rest of me is filled with agony. My mind¡¯s nearly blacked out at this point. I force myself to concentrate.


    I deactivate my sense of pain. I¡¯m filled with relief a moment later. I deactivate my natural sense of balance, and immediately replace it with an artificial one, using my neural implant. Then I look up.


    I see the broad-faced man from before. He¡¯s staring at me, pissed off. I look him in the eyes, and I see hurt, and rage.


    Oh shit.


    ¡°You killed her.¡± He says, calmly. But there¡¯s an undertone of¡­ something underneath that calmness.


    I recognize that tone. It was the same tone I had when¡­ when I had lost a dear friend of mine. I remembered what I did after that very clearly.


    I get up, shakily.


    The pirates surrounding us are silent, observing. Their weapons are pointed at me but they don¡¯t dare shoot.


    I raise my arm to wipe something off my mouth. I¡¯m unsurprised to see blood on it.


    The man does nothing, just stares at me. In his hands is a large cannon. Various capsules are placed on his belt. My eyes flicker towards them, noting each type.


    I know what I have to do, no matter how shitty it is.


    ¡°Who are you trying to fool? She¡¯s gone, and killing me isn¡¯t going to solve anything.¡± I say.


    Internally, I cringe. Oh that came out so wrong.


    He shoots, and I barely manage to dodge, my reflexes kicking in at the last moment. However, it is a grenade, and I stumble forwards as it explodes behind me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t try to talk shit with me. That isn¡¯t going to work.¡± He says, pissed off further.


    He launches another shot at me.


    I manage to deflect it with my pistol. I feel the clang as it bounces off. My arm is left shaking from the impact.


    It explodes off to the side, killing some pirates. I wince, as I note that. Then I note the guy got more pissed.


    I shrug.


    ¡°Had to try.¡±


    He walks forward, throwing the grenade launcher away. He pulls a large hammer off his back and swings it at me.


    I easily dodge and shoot him in the face.


    He stumbles back but is unharmed. Figures. His implants are of probably higher quality than mine, except for my neural implant. But still, I had gone for speed, while he had gone for strength.


    I look him in the eyes.


    ¡°Kill me if you can. I don¡¯t really give a shit. Not when I¡¯m gonna die anyway.¡±


    Before, I had seen rage and pain. Now, though, there¡¯s just murderous rage. He tosses away his hammer and charges at me.


    I deftly sidestep and shoot him trice, this time on kill mode. It barely does much to him, some sort of armor of his taking most of the damage. He turns to look towards me. I aim the gun at his head.


    Someone shoots my hand. Half of it is disintegrated while the other is badly burned. The pistol is now mostly molten metal, that covers my hand.


    I don¡¯t feel anything. Just wrongness as I stare at it. The man turns towards the pirate. In the corner of my eyes, I see the pirate shot to death by the others, the cannon in his hands turned to molten metal, just like mine. The man grunts and turns back towards me.


    The ship suddenly rumbles. I fall to the ground, my knees losing their last vestige of strength.


    The man towers over me.


    He picks up his hammer and leans back for the swing.


    I pull the trigger of the gun in my other hand. It hits him in the balls, and he drops the hammer to clutch at his groin. I shoot him in the eye, and he collapses. For some reason, the pirates are fleeing. I tear open the belt on him and barely manage to toss it at them anyway.


    I shoot it. It explodes in a spectacular display of colors. I use the corpse of the man to shield myself.


    It¡¯s barely enough. When the light fades away, I see some dead bodies. I¡¯m numb at the sight. I drag myself over to a corner and close my eyes.


    I give in to the exhaustion.


    <hr><hr>


    Grey white uniformed teenagers rampage through the ship, ruthlessly executing all that comes in their way. The adults move behind them, taking care of the stragglers. The Sentinels cut a path to the bridge of the ship.


    A man chuckles.


    ¡°Reminds me of when I was like them, young.¡±


    A woman beside him snorts.


    ¡°Please. You weren¡¯t as half as competent as they are.¡±


    The man glares at her.


    ¡°Like you would know. All you did was fix things.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I did more than just fix things. I was the one who built the bomb back when we were-¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡± The middle-aged man from earlier says. ¡°I¡¯ve picked up the student¡¯s signal. He¡¯s right above us.¡±


    ¡°Above us?¡± The woman asks.


    The man flexes his muscles, not bothering to answer. He jumps up and clutches at the steel with his hands. The steel twists and bends. He rips the ceiling off, and the limp figure of a boy crashes down. The woman moves to catch him, but the other man beats her to it.


    ¡°He escaped?¡± The woman asks. ¡°I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be disappointed if he didn¡¯t. He was the one who won the competition, after all.¡± the man said.


    The middle-aged man stares at the boy, the thick and twisted steel plate in his arms.


    ¡°He¡¯s reckless. I like him.¡±


    <h6 class="bold uppercase text-center"></h6>

 Flashback

    I pump my fist in the air, whooping.


    On the table is a hologram of a drone. It¡¯s my personal summer project and had taken three weeks to complete. Three weeks!


    And yet, now looking at the result, I can say that it was completely worth it!


    Of course, my parents would never let me actually build the thing, considering there was a coilgun built in. I don¡¯t care, just having the design is exhilarating!


    Unlike most people, who like to go for spiders, I designed a dragon. A dragon! It looks amazing! I can¡¯t wait to show Mom and Dad! They¡¯re going to be so proud!


    And sis too. But she¡¯s won¡¯t come back home until Christmas, so I have to show it to her digitally. Which takes out some of the fun in it, as I know no matter how much I hate to admit it, even in my own mind, I miss her irritating cheek pinches and hair ruffles.


    I let out a deep sigh and look at my majestic dragon. It looks exactly like one, save for the metallic scales, and pitch black eyes. Oh, and the needle on its tail. That let it deliver a five thousand volt discharge.


    Oh, and the design ranked around C-class, which is a big deal! Normally, kids my age would struggle to make an E-class model!


    Though, I¡¯m wondering why it¡¯s so hard for them. It feels so fun! Fun to build, and to think of all the things they can do! So many possibilities! It¡¯s so confusing, that the other kids can¡¯t see that!


    And annoying too. I slump back in my seat, thinking about Reid. That¡­ punk always seems to look down on me. He makes fun of me because I¡¯m weird that I like time with machines more than real people.


    But I don¡¯t! Wait, I might, but not with everyone! I like spending time with my family too! And Colby. He¡¯s always fun to hang around. He doesn¡¯t share my love of building, but he does like to make up nice little strategies. My Dad told me that he would become an amazing Tactician someday! Maybe even an A-ranked one!


    Anyway, me and Colby are amazing friends, because I can build anything, and he¡­ uh, can tell me what to build! I know that sometimes I like to go overboard. But it¡¯s not my fault! I just love it so much!


    But for this project, I had done it all by myself. That¡¯s right, all by myself. Colby even insisted on it. He said that sometimes I should just let myself free. That¡¯s the only way to learn new things.


    But he did try to suggest that I not do the tail. And replace the coilgun with a laser. I ignored him. I knew that he had a point, but the project doesn¡¯t! I could go overboard, and I did!


    Though, I know that if I followed Colby¡¯s suggestion, the drone would probably be B-ranked. And I was tempted, for a moment. Then I decided that C-ranking¡¯s more than satisfying. There was no reason to go over the top.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Ha! Can you build a C-ranked dragon drone, Reid! Huh!?


    Then I hear the door opening.


    That must be Mom and Dad!


    I pick up the holo panel and run to the living room, where I find Dad laughing over something Mom said, while she (lightly) punches him on the shoulder, albeit with a grin.


    My parents are very bright people. Just like me! My mother has dark brown hair, along with purple eyes. I had learned that after we understand how to alter our genome, we had opened a whole new world of possibilities when it came to the physical appearance. So, nowadays, lots of people have bright and colorful eyes. My mother also has pointed ears, which is not a very uncommon trait. She has sharp and distinct features and looks no older than thirty. Her implants are B-grade, which are very expensive for the normal citizen


    But we are successful traders! My father used to be in the Admin circle, but he had left because of politics being tiring or something. His features are much more¡­ softer compared to my mother. He has completely black eyes. Dad¡¯s who I go to whenever I wanna do something I know Mom won¡¯t allow. He¡¯s much more gentle and kind. Mom¡¯s always scolding him for that because you are either cold-hearted or poor when it comes to Trading.


    My father, however, doesn¡¯t agree. On several days he has Mom grumbling about ¡®that business deal¡¯. But his trustworthiness has garnered him a lot of reputation, so despite whatever deals, Mom bickers about, we are actually better off thanks to him.


    Though, I¡¯m always confused as to what business deal Mom¡¯s always grumbling about.


    ¡°Mom! Dad!¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey kiddo. How was your day?¡± My father replies, half of his concentration on me and a half on a message he gets on his holo-pad.


    My mother, being more attentive, immediately spots the panel in my hands. She nudges him, which I pretend not to see. Dad looks up and notices the panel at last.


    ¡°It was great! Anyway, uh, I, um, have something to show you! I¡­ um, I made it myself!¡± I say, fiddling with the panel.


    Both of their eyebrows raise at the same time, in pleasant surprise. My mother smiles.


    ¡°Of course, darling.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± I say, and I activate the panel.


    The hologram of the dragon appears, flying through white fluffy clouds.


    ¡°It¡¯s a drone! And C-class too! Colby even helped run a simulation for it, yesterday!¡±


    Both of them are staring at the drone, shocked. I think I see tears in my mother¡¯s eyes. After what seems like an eternity, they wrap me in a tight hug.


    ¡°Oh, baby, I am so proud of you! Did you really make it yourself!¡± My mother says.


    My father snorts.


    ¡°He¡¯s my son. Of course, he did!¡±


    I giggle.


    ¡°So, do you like it?¡± I say after they let me go, staring at them hopefully.


    My father smiles.


    ¡°Definitely, kiddo. A dragon, eh? I bet you¡¯re just one in human form.¡± He says.


    On the outside, I keep my bright smile in place, but on the inside, I am swelling with pride. He noticed!


    My Mom pats me on the head.


    ¡°I think our son¡¯s a little genius. And as a little genius¡­¡± She trails off and gives my father a pointed look.


    My father blinks in confusion and then jumps in realization. He searches in his bag, while I stare at both my parents in confusion.


    My father takes out three silver prisms with the logo of a wrench imprinted on it. I gape as I try to register what is happening.


    Unbelieving, I turn to Mom, who is staring at me with a knowing smile. She nods.


    ¡°Next week, the three of us are going to Cosmo tech!¡±


    ¡°Oh. My. God. Oh, my, god. Oh-my-god. Really? Really!? Are we really going!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Dad nods, a grin on his face. He reaches down to pat my head. ¡°You earned it.¡±


    Mom¡¯s looking at the hologram, looking both worried and angry.


    I frown.


    ¡°Why is there a coilgun on the drone?¡± She says.


    My eyes widen.


    ¡°It¡¯s uh¡­ nothing, I just put it in there because-because uh, I thought tha-that it would look cool and uh¡­¡± I trail off as I notice that Mom¡¯s only gotten angrier.


    I look at Dad, who seems more amused than anything. Then I bolt for it.


    ¡°John Smith, little man, you will get your butt back here, right this very instant!¡±

 A Handshake.

    My hand¡­ feels weird. It feels cold.


    What happened?


    I recall what had happened before I lost consciousness. Then I wonder how I¡¯m still alive. I could¡¯ve survived the explosion, but the Pirates should¡¯ve killed me. But, they were running for some reason, so I¡¯m going to assume that backup had arrived, and the pirates were rushing to defend.


    Backup had arrived.


    I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Then I look at my hand and do a double take.


    My hand is cybernetic. Greenish silver. And most of my skin is¡­ too pale. And slightly glossy, like plastic


    Alright. I can deal with a machine hand. I do, after all, work with machines. I can deal with some new skin. But¡­ the grade¡­


    I sigh.


    It¡¯s going to be a pain to fix this. I¡¯ve replaced my leg once, and I know how hard it is to create a satisfiable design. And that says nothing about making the damn thing. I hadn¡¯t known Larry back then either.


    I nearly jump when I hear a voice.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I turn. There¡¯s an old man sitting in a wheelchair, staring at me. Though he might be old, he still looks healthy. I¡¯m going to assume that¡¯s the work of implants. Though I wonder why he hasn¡¯t replaced his legs. Maybe he just can¡¯t afford it. After all, replacing entire body parts were quite expensive.


    Which leads me to the point of who bought these implants for me in the first place.


    ¡°Nothing. Just wondering though, where am I? The last thing I remember was that I was on a pirate vessel.¡±


    He smiles.


    ¡°Someone important had sent a beacon in the very same ship as you, and that someone seemed to be important. In any case, after some investigation, the Sentinels learned about your presence onboard the ship, and so did the school. The school decided to use it as an opening course for the students, while the Sentinels took care of the captain. The teachers had found you, and it was a miracle you were still alive, judging by the report Joghim gave me. It was then my job to make sure you stayed alive, which was much easier than it should¡¯ve been, thanks to your implants. Speaking of which, may I know who designed them? There¡¯s no signature on them, and they¡¯re better than the majority of products out there.¡±


    I raise my eyebrows.


    ¡°Are you sure about that? I mean, I know they¡¯re good, but I¡¯m pretty sure that there¡¯s a lot of more advanced tech than mine.¡±


    The old man chuckles.


    ¡°More advanced tech there is, but none that uses primajin as a base compound. It¡¯s dirty and cheap, and yet the designer managed to create such an exquisite system out of it.¡±


    I shrug.


    I¡¯m wondering if I should tell him that I designed it. It gives me a chance to show the world what I¡¯m capable of.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    But in the end, I decided against it. There are better ways to gain fame.


    ¡°He told me that primajin had its quirks and that he was stingy enough to figure out how to utilize those quirks. He¡¯s not exactly an¡­ upright citizen and he¡¯d told me not to disclose his identity, so I¡¯m not going to.¡±


    The old man nods.


    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t force you to reveal anything you don¡¯t want to but do tell him that I would like to meet him. It¡¯s not so often that I come across implants like these.¡±


    I ponder for a moment, then reply.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t tell him I told you this, but he likes to bet on ship races. You can find him in Goldport every month¡¯s end.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t really think I¡¯d be one to fit in such a place. I think that¡¯s enough chit-chat though, do you have any questions about your implants?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°There should be a manual stored in your neural implant. Use it if you ever find difficulties with your new hand.¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°That should be it. You¡¯re Mentor is calling for you. You should get his information from the school network. I have to go look after my other patients.¡±


    Now, while the teachers can sit together and discuss the training plans of each and every student, that would take a lot of time. Instead, they assign students to a Mentor, who goes over your file and personally guides you. Mentors have multiple students, but the amount rarely exceeded fifteen. There was only so much a person could do in a day.


    He turns to leave, but I call out.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    He pauses.


    ¡°Oh right, I must¡¯ve forgotten my manners. I¡¯m Berin Korf, a member of the Tyion Alliance. I already know your name, so there¡¯s no need for you to introduce yourself. Time to get going then.¡±


    I blink as the old man leaves the room.


    The Tyion Alliance is an alliance that¡¯s main goal is to achieve immortality. They¡¯re a shady group that has questionable morals, but excellent skills. I¡¯d never run into them before though, so all I know about them are rumors.


    They are also supposed to be crazy fanatics. Supposed to. Seems like that isn¡¯t the case unless the old man¡¯s just the exception.


    I close my eyes and dive into my mental world. A moment later, I¡¯ve gotten the address of my assigned dormitory, and the name of my Mentor.


    I jump off the pod I¡¯m stationed in and leave the med bay.


    I walk through a series of corridors, before arriving at a particularly large one. The corridors are arranged somewhat like a tree, with a main trunk, and side branches.


    The corridor¡¯s bursting with people. And, there are also some aliens too. Those are rare though because the other galactic species simply did not have as high of a reproductive rate that we have.


    The students move in groups, from what I can see. That isn¡¯t surprising, considering what I know of human psychology. I¡¯m also sure that there¡¯ a form of ¡®bullying¡¯, as the term is called here. I was willing to bet that I would make for an excellent target, considering my means of entering the school.


    Nevertheless, I have a place to get to, so I deftly moved through the crowd, ignoring any annoyed looks that the students sent my way.


    If the place is a tree, then I would be at the canopy, and my location is one of the lower branches. As such, it takes me some time to reach my Mentor¡¯s office.


    I knock on the door, my foot tapping the floor.


    ¡°Come in.¡± A voice sounds.


    The door buzzes, and slides open, revealing a middle-aged man. He¡¯s Dalton Gyon and is one of the higher ranked teachers in the school. He has a scar on his face, near his lip. He could¡¯ve gotten rid of it easily, but sentimentality often gets the better of us, and for good reason.


    He looks up and stares at me. My hand twitches as I fight the urge to fidget.


    ¡°Take a seat.¡±


    There are two black and silver chairs in front of the desk. On the armrest, there is a little blue holo-pad. I take the one closer to the door, and my eyes widen as the chair forms to my shape.


    Nanotechnology.


    I look up at him.


    He reaches over, offering a hand.


    ¡°Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dalton Gyon, and will be your Mentor throughout your stay at this school.¡±


    I take his hand and shake it, careful to maintain a firm grip.


    ¡°I¡¯m Daniel Zyron, but I prefer to be called Dan.¡±


    He nods, and let¡¯s go.


    ¡°Very well. I have sent you your schedule. Training starts at two AM tomorrow. Don¡¯t be late.¡± He says.


    I nod.


    ¡°That is all. You may take your leave.¡±


    I get up and walk briskly towards the door.


    ¡°By the way, that trick with your neural implant is very interesting. It took me some time to realize what you had done. You¡¯re lucky that it was me, and not some other teacher, or else you might¡¯ve been in big trouble. I¡¯ve sent you some tritinate. Use it wisely.¡±


    I turn around, shocked, staring at a smiling man. No, not any man, but my Mentor. Then the door shuts.

 Roomy

    I stare at the door in shock for a few seconds, still processing what my Mentor said.


    He knows.


    That¡¯s the first thought that comes to mind. The second is that he doesn¡¯t care. The third is that he went and got me tritinate. Fucking tritinate.


    Every S-ranked implant out there uses tritinate. Needless to say, tritinate is expensive and a major pain in the ass to get.


    The thought of getting my hands on some is enough to make me giddy. Already I¡¯m beginning to start cooking up ideas.


    I¡¯m not sure whether I can trust him, but I¡¯m willing to give him a chance. After all, who would give away tritinate to a person that you would screw over?


    That¡¯s a bad question, but there¡¯s a point nonetheless. It¡¯s stupid because you can kill him while he¡¯s still in shock. Then take your tritinate back.


    AsI head to my dormitory¡ªwhich is one of the upper branches of this place-I¡¯m so engrossed in my ideas that I can barely keep track of the real world. I don¡¯t even care when people bump into me without apologizing,or when I do the same to others.


    I¡¯m brought back to reality when I reach my dorm room¡¯s door. It¡¯s plain grey, but that suits me just fine. Before opening the door, there¡¯s a panel that scans me.


    The room is large enough to house four people. It has two beds, a built-in cupboard and wardrobe, a large holo-pad, and even an android butler standing in the corner. The butler looks entirely like a robot though; having a human look-alike and think-alike would creep out a lot of people. So it¡¯s just think-alike. The room has four large windows with a beautiful view of the cosmos. Two are on the ceiling, and the others are on the side of the room facing me. The room is spotless save for the side facing me.


    The side of the room close to the door is bare and unoccupied. The other side is much more decorated, albeit with devices used mainly for combat.


    Also, there¡¯s a guy and girl on the bed watching a fight scene on the holo. Beside them is a tray of snacks, which have some jelly spheres. They¡­ seem intimate.


    They¡¯re both in their teens, like me, but unlike me, they also pack a lot of muscle on their frame. It isn¡¯t hard to guess that they¡¯re Warriors. It isn¡¯t exactly an easy path, but it requires less thinking and more fighting, which suits a lot of people just fine. Not that I judge or anything. I love my path as a Builder, but I¡¯ve come to learn over the years that sometimes people can love their paths just as much as I do mine.


    They turn to look at me, briefly surprised.


    The boy is the first to speak. ¡°Oh, hey, you must be my roommate right?¡± His voice is deep.


    ¡°Um, yeah, I guess.¡±


    He grins.¡°Cool. I¡¯m Sid Ryne, but you can call me Dyne. Cuz, you know, I pack¡±¡ªhe raises his hand and pats his bicep¡ª¡±power.¡±


    I raise my eyebrows, somewhat bemused.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯m Daniel Zyron, but you can call me Dan. Nice to meet you,¡± I say, raising a hand.


    He smiles and gestures to the girl beside him.


    ¡°Well, this is my girlfriend, Denise Zechial.¡±


    The girl is nonplussed as she stares at me. I catch myself raising a hand to scratch my neck. Unconscious tick.


    I raise a hand somewhat sheepishly.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I say.


    She takes a red jelly sphere and bites into it, her eyes never leaving me. Sid chuckles nervously, breaking the tension between us both.


    ¡°Right, she¡¯s always like that, so don¡¯t be bothered by her. Anyways, in what path do you specialize? I go down the path of a Warrior, as you can see.¡± He says, gesturing to the weapons on his side of the room. There¡¯s also some training equipment that I recognize.


    ¡°Me? I¡¯m a Builder. I¡¯m not exactly the best, but I sure as hell am good at what I do.¡± I inject some pride into my voice.


    I walk to the empty bed and sit down on it, facing him and his girlfriend.


    He grins.


    ¡°A Builder, huh? I got this friend of mine who¡¯s also a Builder. He¡¯s a total shut-in, though he¡¯s damn good at what he does too.¡±


    I raise my eyebrows.


    ¡°Is that so? Well, I¡¯d like to meet him. If he doesn¡¯t mind, that is.¡±


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll ask him tomorrow. Who did you get for your Mentor?¡± He asks.


    ¡°I got Dalton Gyon. You?¡±


    His mouth gapes open.


    ¡°Holy shit, dude, that guy is like, one of the best in the school. How in the world did you get his attention? Are you rich or something?¡±


    I shake my head.


    ¡°I¡¯m not rich. I think I¡¯m the poorest in this entire damn school. I only managed to get in via the competition last year.¡±


    He blinks.


    ¡°The competition? Oh, right. That. Anyway, you must have aced all the tests or something to get his attention.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t really aced all the tests, but I did do pretty well¡­


    <hr>


    (Mini flashback)


    I laugh maniacally as my (fake) ship¡¯s railguns completely obliterate the other team¡¯s (fake) base, riding the power high.


    A moment later, the simulation ends, with the pod rippling open. I step out and notice the number of eyes on me.


    I blink.


    ¡°What?¡±


    They all shift their eyes away.


    <hr>


    While I hadn¡¯t exactly gone and made universal records, I did manage to get pretty close.


    That could be the reason, but I suspect recent events might¡¯ve also played a hand in it. And by recent events, I mean me getting captured by the pirate ship.


    I blink as I recall the reason I was caught in the first place.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Dyne says.


    I shake my head, and focus on my neural implant, searching for my public record. I¡¯m surprised to see that it reads ¡®no charges¡®, at the bottom. A moment later, I shrug, thinking that it might be the school¡¯s doing.


    The guy stares at me, still confused.


    I resist the urge to sigh, and instead just offer a (cut down) version of what happened. When I reach the point of explaining the part where I break out, I notice Denise reevaluating me. I¡¯m not sure whether to be proud or to be insulted that she probably (Definitely) viewed me as weak.


    He whistles.


    ¡°Damn. You¡¯re even more foolhardy than me. Aren¡¯t you builder types supposed to be all meek and stuff?¡± He asks.


    I chuckle ominously.


    ¡°No. If anything, anybody who goes down the Mental paths? They¡¯re the ones you gotta watch out for. You never know what tricks they¡¯ve got up their sleeve.¡±


    I notice that they¡¯re staring at me unimpressed. Due to the surprise of today¡¯s events, my cool rationality is gone and instead replaced by an ordinary teen mindset. And like any teen, I have an ego. Which suffers a blow at their non-believing gazes.


    ¡°What? I¡¯m not joking. I can prove it to you.¡± I say, somewhat defensively.


    The guy raises his hands in mock surrender, while the girl narrows her eyes at me.


    ¡°Hey, hey, hey, no need for that. We can prove ourselves on the training fields.¡± He says, mostly for his girlfriend¡¯s benefit.


    She calms down, and leans back, once again lazily snacking on the jelly balls.


    I blink, surprised at myself.


    Looks like I¡¯m only human after all. I think, with a small smile on my face.


    The guy frowns and turns to his girlfriend.


    ¡°I think you have to go now, it¡¯s getting pretty late.¡± He says.


    She frowns, reluctant, but gives in after a quick kiss. She smiles and waves him goodbye as she leaves.


    I feel a surge of loneliness. I push it down.


    Dyne he asks me about going to sleep. I refuse, claiming that I¡¯m used to sleeping late.


    Which is true, but not the only reason I¡¯m going to stay up late.


    I walk to the inbuilt cupboard and open my side of it. My eyes light up as I stare at the contents.


    Inside is a football-sized chunk of luminous red metal. Or, in other words, tritinate.

 Robot and A.I

    The next morning, I head down to the training halls. The halls are outfitted with equipment that¡¯s capable of testing the limits of the human body and more.


    I flex, testing the exercise suit.


    The exercise suit¡¯s emerald green. It fits perfectly against me. It¡¯s capable of recording my vitals and has several inbuilt functions for injuries. It¡¯s also pretty elastic. When I had first seen it, it was around twice the size of my palm. It stretched from that to fit me.


    My Mentor¡¯s behind a transparent wall, calmly watching me.


    I¡¯m in a grey room, the door behind me, a table with a few hundred- 356 to be precise, electronic components lying in front of me, and six drones circling me. The drones are matte-black spheres, with two turrets attached to their sides. The constant hum of anti-grav panels fills the air around them.


    I flex my hands and spend the next minute memorizing all the details of the electronic components.


    When the buzzer sounds, I¡¯m supposed to assemble something that can take down the drones, while avoiding fire and at the same protect the components in front of me. Until then, all I can do is analyze and plan.


    And analyze and plan is what I do. I already have an idea of what I¡¯m going to build. It¡¯s risky, but it¡¯s the only thing I can build in the shortest amount of time and requires the least materials.


    This is extreme and capable as I am, this is going to be a very hard challenge. Apparently, my Mentor wants to see what I¡¯m capable of.


    The buzz would sound in thirteen secon-


    The buzz sounds.


    I jump, and that¡¯s a mistake in itself because I can¡¯t dodge the canister that hits me from the side.


    I¡¯m knocked to the side, and I just barely avoid the next canister. The canisters are just empty shells, because, after all, no one wants dead kids. That¡¯s just messy, both figuratively and literally.


    The next moment, I¡¯m back on my feet and am darting towards the table. I tank a hit with my forearm and then bear with the pain as I avoid colliding with one of the drones. I take three components, and fit them together, making a makeshift soldering iron. I fit a battery into it and dodge another canister at the same time.


    I take two components, fit them together, and then am hit from behind. I get knocked forward, tipping the table and contents. Another shot¡¯s incoming, which I have to twist hard to dodge. I¡¯m left with a sharp pain in my torso, as one of my implants overheats. I clench my teeth and get to my feet. I dodge another shot, and kick the table away, careful to direct it away from the electric stuff.


    I roll forwards and assemble seven more pieces before I¡¯m forced to tank a hit with my chest to prevent the thing from falling. The pain distracts me for a moment, but I complete the device in the next few seconds.


    It¡¯s a palm-sized ugly thing, with a thin lever for the trigger. There¡¯s a small reddish brown disk in the opposite direction of the trigger. It can work for three charges, but I can just replace its batteries after that.


    I pause, and then add a larger plate after making some calculations. Now it can last for two charges, but with a forty-five percent increase in firepower.


    I dodge a canister and dart forwards. A drone swerves in to knock me from the side, but I twist my torso, point the disc end of the device at it, and lightly press the trigger. A distortion of air spreads, followed by the drone¡­ imploding.


    What I just did is use anti-grav panels to do the opposite of what they are supposed to do, in a single burst. The result is a small bubble where matter compresses, that would move for about half a meter before fading.


    However, there¡¯s a cooldown, and so I tank another hit, fee; one of my ribs crack before I¡¯m able to take down another drone. The drones then increase their rate of fire, making it hell for me as I fix a new battery, and wait for the device to charge. I take another three hits, and each hurt more than the last. In the corner of my eye, I see my Mentor apathetically looking on.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    It doesn¡¯t faze me in the least. I continue taking down drones until the device fizzles out. In the end, I decide to simply breach their outer covering, and make a simple E.M.P to take them down in a single burst. It works, but by the end of it, my arm¡¯s broken, and my implants tell me that two of my ribs are broken, with a couple cracked. There¡¯s also some bruising.


    I stare at the ceiling, breathing hard. I disable my pain sense. It¡¯s making it hard for me to think.


    That was a piss poor performance. Maybe some would be satisfied that they finished the course. But I go through my performance and see mistakes. I notice that my body has not adapted to my new hand, and that caused a thirty percent loss in speed while assembling. I¡¯m surprised I didn¡¯t notice that earlier. Then again, there are only three occasions where I tried building under pressure.


    I pull myself to my feet. My Mentor¡¯s still staring at me emotionless through the wall. Around the room lay various bits of machinery.


    I turn to look at him, breathing hard. He looks straight at me, before turning away and walking out. Two nurse bots enter the room.


    Nurse bots are feminine androids, that are built to be reassuring, and¡­ cute. Yes, because apparently, it helps people in times of shock.


    The glass wall slides into the floor, and the nurse bots scan me. One of them smiles at me, while the other rushes out of the room, presumably for a stretcher. I can walk, but I doubt the bots would let me, considering the state I¡¯m in.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± The bot asks.


    I close my eyes in bliss. Her voice is like music.


    ¡°Daniel. Daniel Zyron.¡± I said.


    She nods.


    ¡°Hello, Daniel. My name is Cesa Ander. I will personally be taking care of you until you are completely healed.¡±


    I smile.


    ¡°Uh, thanks, I guess.¡±


    ¡°There is no need to thank me, Daniel Zyron. I am just doing what I was designed to do.¡± She says.


    Must be an old model, then. New models don¡¯t speak like that. They are more¡­ natural.


    I shake my head.


    ¡°Just call me Dan. Also,¡± I shrug, ¡°Whether you¡¯re doing it because you have to or want to, you still deserve my thanks.¡±


    I kinda like talking with these kind of Androids. Old ones, I mean. They¡¯re¡­ curious? Well, yes, but also¡­ kind, for a lack of a better word. New models can be kind too, but it¡¯s a different type of kind.


    Cesa pauses, tilting her head to the side. Then she nods..


    ¡°If that is what you think. May I ask how you are not in pain currently? Is it because of your implants?¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°It is.¡±


    She frowns.


    ¡°Disabling your pain receptors is not a healthy-¡±


    I interrupt her.


    ¡°Yes, yes, but I¡¯d rather not feel pain when I¡¯m¡­ like this.¡±


    The other Nurse bot enters, holding a portable stretcher.


    My bruises are already gone, thanks to the help of the exercise suit. But the more serious injuries need some medical attention. It would take around half an hour before I¡¯m back in tip-top shape.


    Cesa and the other bot carry me to the infirmary, where I see there is no lack of students, despite the short amount of time it takes to treat injuries. She treats me as though I¡¯m delicate as a porcelain doll, making me feel torn between feeling nice about the attention or feeling annoyed she¡¯s treating me like a baby.


    I decide to go for the former because positive is always better. Except when it¡¯s not.


    Anyways, in no time I am on my feet, all my injuries fixed with the magic of nanotechnology, and with Cesa hovering nearby. She ruffles my hair, and reluctantly sends me off (not without some candy). I think about requesting for her to be my personal nurse bot. The school should allow it, I think, it can go on my scholarship. My Mentor¡­ well, that, I¡¯ll just find out.


    Speaking of which, I am again standing in his office, waiting for him to go through some data. When he is done, I stand firmer, partly to hide my nervousness, and partly to show discipline.


    ¡°Tell me, what did you do with the tritinate?¡± He asks.


    ¡°Nothing¡­ I¡¯m still in the design phase.¡± I say.


    He nods.


    ¡°Take your time with that. I don¡¯t want a rush job.¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°I¡­ I did badly in today¡¯s test, didn¡¯t I?¡± I say.


    He raises an eyebrow.


    ¡°Barely a few Builders have ever passed that test. If anything, I¡¯d say you did above average.¡±


    ¡°But it was just that¡­ above average. If that was a real battle, ¡®above average¡¯ would¡¯ve gotten me killed.¡±


    He looks at me for a moment, pondering, and then smiles.


    ¡°True. But I didn¡¯t expect you to ace the test on the first go. That would be impractical.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ then what did you expect?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. I didn¡¯t know enough about you to make an accurate prediction.¡±


    I blink.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°True. I wonder, do you know what you did wrong?¡±


    I go over the details in my head, before nodding.


    ¡°Then I have nothing to tell you on that front. On the other hand, there¡¯s someone I¡¯d like you to meet.¡± He says.


    Then he moves to his desk, before pulling a silver box out of the drawer. He opens it, revealing a silver bracelet inside. The bracelet has sleek, and elegant curves to it. He places the bracelet on my arm, and I watch, fascinated as it changes shape to fit my hand.


    Nanotechnology. Again.


    My eyes widen.


    ¡°Hello, Daniel. My name is Grace, and I,¡± She pauses, mulling the words over in her mind.


    ¡°Am your A.I.¡±

 Upgrade in Hand

    I blink.


    A.I¡¯s are expensive. They can¡¯t just be mass produced. Not unless you want to reduce their intelligence to a point that they wouldn¡¯t care about the fact that there are multiple clones of themselves out there. And those are cheap as hell, considering they can¡¯t really do much.


    So A.Is have to be personally programmed. Each requiring weeks to months of work. Also, they need extremely powerful computers to work.


    That¡¯s why most A.Is, at least, the smart ones, are placed on ships and buildings. They¡¯re easier to maintain that way. But, there are quantum computers.


    They don¡¯t require a lot of materials. But it¡¯s the quality of the materials they do need that makes them expensive. On the other hand, they can function for millennia without a single source of power afterward. They¡¯re also compact and can fit in your pocket. There are large-scale quantum computers, but those are used for just as large-scale projects, like say, building an Omega.


    Now, putting an A.I in a quantum computer¡­ that¡¯s very expensive. So expensive, that I can¡¯t even wrap my head around the concept. It was the sort of thing that company heads would buy, just because they could.


    But, here I was, with an A.I in a quantum computer on my hand.


    I look at my Mentor, shock in my eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡±


    He smiles and shakes his head.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be-¡±


    The A.I- Grace, interrupts him.


    ¡°Taking care of your training, as in, making sure you don¡¯t slack off, or break any rules. Also, I¡¯ll be sending a weekly report of your progress to your Mentor.¡±


    I blink.


    ¡°Um¡­ Sure.¡±


    I look at my Mentor, who simply shrugs.


    ¡°You can take your leave now.¡±


    I nod, and walk away in a daze. The A.I interrupts said daze.


    ¡°So,¡± she says. ¡°What do you do in your free time?¡±


    I blink.


    ¡°Um¡­ play games?¡± I say.


    ¡°What kind of games?¡± She asks, chipper.


    ¡°VRMMORPGs. Mostly. Though, my gear isn¡¯t here. It¡¯s back at my old house.¡±


    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s it?¡±


    I shrug.


    ¡°I like to fly.¡±


    ¡°Cool! Then let¡¯s go to the hangars. We have two hours of free time.¡±


    I blink.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Sure. Wait¡­ two hours? I have two hours of free time? Isn¡¯t that like, too much?¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Well, maybe. But why do you care? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be overjoyed?¡±


    I stare blankly at the bracelet, as I start heading towards the hanger.


    ¡°I¡¯m not some hyperactive teen. I know how precious time can be.¡±


    ¡°Geez. Life isn¡¯t all about training. You¡¯re only human. You should know how to have some fun.¡±


    I frown.


    ¡°¡­Fine.¡±


    Fifteen minutes later, I¡¯m suited up, and piloting a small scout ship. I¡¯m participating in a little race, between five new students. Two of them seems like complete amateurs, inexperienced, but excited, while the other three are veterans-competitive, and not without passion too.


    We¡¯re supposed to fly out, circle a planet, fly through an asteroid zone, and return to the school within an hour. Crashing, or not making it in time disqualifies you. Trying to bump into others is also cause for disqualification. Not that I thought anyone would do that-they¡¯re too prideful.


    I lay back into the seat, and insert my hands into two sockets on the dashboard. A moment later, I have a direct connection with the ship, allowing me to control it with just with my thoughts. The A.I continues chirping all the while.


    Earlier, she had gotten me a few stares. Since then, I had told her to communicate directly to my neural implant, which is risky, but I trust my defenses to alert me to anything she might try. I regret it because now, she just wouldn¡¯t shut up.


    ¡°¡­completely overlayed with titanium, which is a waste of resources if you ask-¡±


    ¡°Grace,¡± I say, interrupting her monologue.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°The race is about to start. Don¡¯t distract me.¡±


    I get a mental pout, before she (reluctantly) keeps quiet, giving me some peace.


    I sigh, and look at the sensors of the ship, making myself familiar with it. It¡¯s a strange feeling, connecting to a ship. Each time I do it, I get this undescribable feeling. I¡¯m not the only one, but what the other pilots describe is nothing like what I feel.


    It feels¡­ nostalgic? And natural. Like I¡¯ve done it a million times. My whole perception shifts, becoming bigger. Like I¡¯m more than myself.


    I get this deep satisfaction.


    And my mind becomes unnaturally calm. All the things I¡¯ve been worrying about become so small. I wonder how I ever thought that those problems ever mattered, but then another part of me chirps in that the moment I disconnect, I¡¯ll just go back to my normal self.


    This is why I¡¯m mostly detached. This¡­ calmness. I don¡¯t feel it in the same intensity when I¡¯m not connected to a ship, but the memories carry over. And they¡­ make me rational. Cold. Eventually, though, the memories fade, and I start returning back to how I was. Sometimes, that takes days, other times, hours.


    I only feel this way when I¡¯m connected to ships. I¡¯m suspicious it might have to do with the shit-ton of processing power contained in the computers they carry, but I have no way to really know. Just another mystery that I can¡¯t solve.


    I¡¯m broken out of my reverie by the buzz. I kick up the engines, and I¡¯m flying in no time, with a bit of a headstart.


    In the end, it¡¯s a close call, but I win. One of the veterans is really skilled, and I only manage to win by an inch, metaphorically.


    I¡¯m not surprised by my win. I have a lot of experience on hand, and there¡¯s was the unnatural calmness. Grace was, though. I think I heard her squeal when I overtook the veteran. Though it could¡¯ve just been wishful thinking.


    So, the door slides open, and I¡¯m out and about. The others are about to walk over and congratulate me and make other social niceties, but something about me deters them. I remain indifferent and walk out of the hangar. I don¡¯t notice the silence I had left in my wake.


    Grace does, and she tells me.


    ¡°Holy shit, the entire place just went silent. What the hell did you do?¡±


    I shrug.


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    She then stays silent too, noticing my mental state. A small part of me is smug. The rest of me is busy pulling up plans for the tritinate. My current calmness was similar to the trance I fall into when I designed things. I take advantage of that.


    I reach my dorm, find Dyne exercising, ignore him, and get down to business. I think he say something, but I¡¯m too far down the rabbit hole to pay attention.


    It takes me five hours before I come to my senses. I blink and see in front of me a hologram of a device¡­ far beyond my understanding.


    Which is strange, because¡­ I built it. Or did I? It carries traces of things I would do but beyond that¡­


    I blink as I see a file hidden in my neural implant. I open it and widen my eyes.


    It¡¯s a manual on use, has warnings, and all the standard things every manual has. But what I¡¯m surprised at is the fact that I somehow knew I wouldn¡¯t understand the device. And planned for it beforehand.


    It doesn¡¯t show me how the thing works, but I think I can figure it out. It would just take a lot of time.


    And then I see a picture of Lucy, flashing me a thumbs up at the last page. My mind blanks out.

 Hugs Are Warm.

    I don''t know what it means. And I don''t like that.


    The first thing Lucy told me... it''s not something pleasant to know. After that, she''d never told me anything much. She''d helped me out here and there, but other than that, she''d done nothing but hang around me. She''s been indecipherable since the start, and I''ve been ignoring her to keep myself from becoming frustrated.


    I copy the entire design to my implant and destroy the physical copy. I don''t know much about it, and I''m not sure if I want anyone else to get their hands on it.


    Then I sit back and close my eyes.


    I''m tired. Just... tired. I wish I''m stillthe me-from-before. The ever-energetic me. The one who would''ve been amazed what I just built. Or didn''t build.


    But I can''t go back to how I was. I have to go on as I am, now. I can''t turn back time.


    No matter how bad it gets sometimes.


    "Dan," I hear Grace in my mind.


    "Yes?" I say.


    "Is something wrong? You don''t look so good." She says.


    Damn it. I don''t like showing vulnerableness. It had been long since been instilled in me, to always to put up a strong front. You can''t afford to be weak when you face pirates. That''s just plain suicide.


    Also, I like to take care of my own problems. I don''t need help. Not when I''ve been dealing with them myself for a long time.


    So I just shrug it off.


    "It''s nothing. Don''t worry about it."


    "Really?"


    I resist the urge to frownand instead smile.


    "Yes. It''s... It''s personal. You wouldn''t understand." I say.


    "Okay... But-I''ll be here if you need me, alright?" She said.


    I appreciate the offer. Truly.


    "Okay, thanks." I plaster a smile on my face. I yawn.


    "I think I''ll be going to sleep now."


    <hr>


    I wake up with a start, the next day.


    I had a nightmare about the first time I killed a person. I''ve already come to terms with I have done, but the nightmare has unearthed some of the feelings I had back then.


    It''s still way early in the morning, but I can''t go to sleep, not with the turmoil seething inside me.


    "Dan? What''s wrong? Are you alright?'' Grace asked, concern oozing out of her voice.


    I had shown signs of being unstable yesterday. And now I''m again feeling unstable again. Honestly, I''mnot even sure what''s going on with me.


    I know how to keep a stable mind. However, right now, I feel too miserable to try.


    It''s getting worse. And the thing is, I don''t deal with many emotions on my day to day life. As such, when I get emotional, I''m hit hard.


    "Yeah, I''m-I''m fine. Don''t worry about me." I say as close my eyes, suppressing the storm within.


    "I''m not an idiot, Dan. What''s wrong?" She asks.


    I massage my temples as I sigh.


    "Listen, It''s... something I have to deal with myself, alright? I ca- don''t need anybody to help me." I say.


    She falls silent for a second or two, before speaking.


    "You don''t trust me. I get that. But... seriously-I can help. And... I''m..." She sighs. "Protective of you. It''s inbuilt. So...please... let me help."


    As she finishes talking, she hugs me. Not in reality, but through our neural connection. And, the turmoil dies down a little. It doesn''t go away, but I''m still filled with a sense of relief. At least now it''s on a level that was manageable.


    I sigh and hug her back.


    I don''t remember the last time I''ve been hugged. Or shown any affection for. I think that''s why it feels so good. Why it''s able to take away the feelings of pain, disgust, depression, and... generally a hodgepodge of every other negative emotion out there.


    And while it lasts, I realize the cause of the swings in my mood.


    The calm... it usually lasts for more than a month or so. Less if I go through stressful situations. But yesterday, the trance I''d fallen into... the other times are nothing compared to that. I can barely remember a thing from what happened while I was in the trance, but I remember the feeling of...A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Nothingness. That''s how it felt.


    And I''m guessing this is the backlash. Nothing comes without a price. Now that I think of it, there are a couple of times I fall into depression after the cal. Sometimes it''s mild, and sometimes... it isn''t. I''d dismissed it back then, thinking it to be nothing of note. Now though, I''m going to have to watch out for that.


    Grace lets go of me, in our mental connection. I let go too. I blinkand realize at some point, I''d shed some tears. The concern I felt, rather than saw, from her brought some warmth to me.


    I also sense some awkwardness. Which is normal, and is rather refreshing too.


    I''d detached myself from people a long time ago. I don''t even remember why. I had a reason... but I''m finding it hard to recall. Now, though, I;m starting to reconnect.


    I''m not sure if that''s a good or bad thing. I shrug, deciding that I would find out in time.


    "Thanks," I say, breaking the silence.


    She smiles.


    "No problem. Though... some of your emotions leaked over... I don''t want to step over some invisible boundary, but what happened?" She asks.


    I ponder on how to answer. A part of me wants to open up and tell her, but another part of me is cursing that part of me for being a total idiot. And I agree because I barely know her. I might be able to... grow, personally, or whatever the term is, but the risk is too high.


    I decide to settle for a compromise.


    "I... don''t think I can tell you now. Maybe in the future."


    She smiles.


    "I understand,"


    My mouth opens and then closes.


    She reaches over and brushes my hair.


    "I know it''s not time yet, for training, but, as you said, time is precious. How about we spend some time flying?" She says.


    My response is immediate.


    "No. Just... no." When I see the confused look on her face, I add, "It''s complicated. Another thing I might explain in the future."


    "Alright, then let''s play some VMMORPG. There''s a couple of pods you can use."


    <hr>


    I end up heading to one of the side branches of the school, where I find the division focused on entertainment.


    Sometimes, believe it or not, entertainment can be exactly what a person needs to get better. Like a single-minded training maniac. The entertainment division is built exactly for that reason, but also because the teachers are humans too. They can''t work all the time.


    I ignore the various zero gravity sports and battles and instead head to a virtual reality pod.


    VR pods are built to sustain the body for however much time required. As for training, soldiers and Sentinels are forced to undergo excruciating training in them-that usually lasts for large amounts of time, like months together. They don''t dilate time like some Holo movies suggest, as that requires a frightening amount of processing power. As it is, for a single world, you need around three large-scale quantum computers to act as servers. If you wanted to speed up time inside, while not frying the brains of the players, you would easily need around ten times that.


    Some of the larger games span entire galaxies. In reality, we haven''t even finished covering this one galaxy. There are still countless star systems to cover.


    But, you have a set amount of time you could spend in a V.R in a week. The rule is set so that people won''t lose track of reality. They''re also countless other precautions, but I don''t bother recalling them all. I know the essentials when it came to V.R, and that''s enough.


    Your tag''s what made sure you can''t spend more time in a V.R than possible. The pod kicks you out forcefully if you didn''t leave quick enough.


    I was one tempted to mess around with my tag, to spend the rest of my life in a V.R, after I had learned of the event. The only thing that stopped me, was, crazily enough, Lucy. She used psychological tactics and scared me half to death that time. She''d spent an entire month lurking around me to make sure I didn''t dive in.


    Now, I have this mental block that makes me spend only enough time to enjoy myself.


    I hop into a pod and lie down. A few seconds later, I''d established a connection and am back in my favorite VMMORPG.


    It''s realistic, and in it, I''m the captain of theStars above-ship. I''d earned enough fame that most players, at least the ones who chose to go down the bad guy route, avoid me.


    This time though, Grace joins the game as well. I replace my weapons manager with her, because, one, I''d been wanting to get rid of that player for a long time, and two, I need a weapons specialist.


    And A.Is learn quick. Two battles later, she''s already impressing the other players. As for me, well, I''m treated with respect. I don''t really socialize much, as I focus on the battle aspect of the game rather than the other stuff that most players tend to go to. I mean, socializing was nice, but I''d long since adapted to being a loner.


    I also know that some of the players have a crush on me.


    I stand at the bridge, eyeing the other party''s massive fleet. I command one ship, while he has hundreds. It''s a battle between quality, and quantity.


    He tries to swarm me while using a lot of firepower, but I pull off a warp stunt, returning all that fire to the central three ships. He sacrifices a lot of ships to tank that attack.


    I then overload my engines, and pull off a missile launch at point blank, crippling the central ship''s engines. The rest is simple, they sacrifice a lot of firepower for defense, and I just use a couple tactics after to obliterate his ship. I blow up his fusion reactor, and that takes out the rest of his fleet.


    My crew cheers, as I maintain a sly, arrogant facade'' as if I knew this was going to be the outcome from the start. Grace is awed by my battle prowess, I think. A lot of people play this game, but no one plays it like I do.


    What follows is a few badges from the Alliance and a major increase in fame. The Head had told me to expect a title by the end of the week.


    I''m forced to log out after that, due to my training schedule. I''m not wholly me, though, some of the Captain carries over. As such, when I go through the test, I performwaybetter than last time. But still not good enough. Once again I''m taken to the infirmaryand treated by the same nurse.


    "You are too hard on yourself." She says as she finishes scanning my body for the umpteenth time.


    I shrug.


    "Maybe. Why does it matter?"


    "Because you are human. You should be enjoying life, not fighting."


    I sigh.


    "I know,"


    Then I notice the old man staring at me, from one of the cubicles. He smiles when he realizes that I''ve caught him staring.


    I leave the infirmary and head to a Builder''s meet.


    A meet is where people of the same path come together to discuss ideas, and mingle. I''m excited, considering that it''s the largest amount of Builders I''ve seen in one place.


    When I''m heading there, I notice Dyne and another guy moving in the same direction. The guy''s looking at one of the girls, so I don''t see his face. Dyne catches sight of me and waves me over.


    "Hey man, are you alright?" He says.


    I''m confused until Grace shows me a video of a concerned Dyne as he sees me enter, and then him slowly getting weirded out by my lifeless look as I work. I''m creeped out as well.


    I smile, and I nod.


    "Sorry, you had to see that. I kinda had this inspiration.. and I fell into some sort of trance... honestly, I''m surprised as well."


    He smiles and pats on the back.


    "It''s alright man. Did you get anything out of it?"


    This time, I genuinely grin.


    "Yup. Definitely."


    "Cool. Well, remember I told you about that friend of mine? The one who''s always a shut-in?" He nudges the other boy out of his stupor.


    And then he turns around. I''m reminded of a familiar face.


    "Dan, I''d like you to meet Colby."

 G

    I''m shocked.


    Cobly is...


    He''s my childhood friend. I still remember the times we''d fought against Reid. Reid made our lives miserable, and we returned the favor. A few memories flash to mind.


    Like that time we set up an ambush, with Colby as the bait (I used to ignore my body way too much back then to be of any use), and used some industrial dye I found in a junkyard to turn them green. Quite literally. It lasted for weeks. We had this warning we used to shout out to each other after that, to rub it in his face. ''Goblin Raid!''.


    Colby was the one who came up with that too. Goblins are these nasty looking green humanoids that Colby found out about. He played a fantasy VMMORPG called ''Rivers Of Red''. It was one of the more popular VMMMORPGS. Still is. Something about fantasy has people attracted to it like flies.


    I force down a chuckle from the memorybut then am hit with the reality in front of me.


    This person could very well be another Colby. That isn''t a particularly rare name, and he isn''t even rich enough to enroll himself here. Also, he might not a very social person, but he sure as hell isn''t a shut-in. And definitely isn''t a builder.


    I decide to treat him like I do other people.


    I smile politely and raise my hand in a small wave.


    "Hi. I''m... Daniel Zyron, and a Builder."


    He hesitates, before nodding.


    "I''m... Colby, and I''m a Builder too." He says, his voice small.


    "Your sub?" I ask.


    Of course, each path had their own variants. You couldn''t just master the entire path. That would take centuries. So, eventually, no matter how smart you were, you had to specialize. I myself haven''t reached that point yet. But... if it comes down to it, I think I would choose ships.


    For more than one reason.


    Ships have others variants as well. Most people usually decide to choose one of those variants, or maybe two. But limiting myself to ships already felt like a sacrifice on my part.


    Well, that is if I actually limited myself. For now, I''m fine as I am.


    "Um... it-it''s traps. Yours?" He says.


    My intuition tries to tell me something, but I ignore it. Whatever feeling I get''s too vague to discern.


    I''m pleasantly surprised. Hardly a few ever go down the less... popular variants. They just go with the flow. As such, you had to have something special with those paths. Otherwise, I doubt that they would be chosen.


    And people who had a good connection to their paths are always talented. I think it''d be worth it to befriend him. Not because he''s talented. Because it would be nice to share ideas.


    I smile.


    "Haven''t chosen yet, in all honesty," I say.


    He blinks and furrows his brows.


    "You... haven''t chosen yet?"


    I nod.


    "Yup. I haven''t run into a wall when it comes to my progress, so no."


    "...Really?"


    I nod.


    "Huh." He says.


    He stays silent the rest of the way. Dyne keeps subtlety trying to get me to tell him what I built, yesterday. I respond by just as subtlety diverting the topics. It turns into banter, at some point.


    Finally, we reach the doors to the meet. They are large disks, that slide into the walls. Dyne and I have wide grins on our faces. Colby seems to prefer being left out.


    Well, I know one way to get to an anti-social builder. Just talk about building. Not really an ingenious plan, but when it comes to Builders, it works well.


    I also take stock of the girl Colby keeps looking at. She''s a beautiful, tall girl, with red bangs. Her eyes are tinted gold. Overall, I see why he would like her. On the other hand, what I don''t get are the glances she gave him as well.


    In the end, I decide it''s not all that surprising. Romance can pop up anywhere, in the weirdest of ways. I''ve seen my sister''s stock of heavy romance holo movies, so that is one thing I know for sure.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    There''s even a movie about a Builder girl and this gigantic Warrior. Gigantic, as in tall as a building.


    I shudder.


    It seems like they want to be together. It could be something else altogether, though that seemed unlikely. Colby might want her for reassurance, or comfort, while she might want to be near him to provide that very reassurance. Or comfort. But the girls around her seems to be the barrier between them.


    I can feel a headache building up already. Drama. Just like my sister''s holo movies. Except this is real life.


    I don''t hate the idea of romance. I don''t love it either. To me, it isn''t really something I consider important. I can live alone, and die alone. It might seem like a lonely life to most. Hell, it probablyisa lonely life. But, I don''t want to hurt anyone when I die. Or be hurt by anyone when they die.


    I''ve lost enough as it is. There''s no need to add to that. If I fall in love, then I''d fall in love. But I''m not seeking it out.


    Maybe I should. Probably what most people would''ve done in my situation.


    But I have work to do. There was a very slim chance of humanity making it past the event, but the blueprint in my head...


    I don''t want to admit it, but it gives me some hope. Maybe we can survive after all.


    I push those thoughts down. That''s just wishful thinking.


    The doors open, allowing me, and Colby inside. Dyne''s forced to wave us goodbye with an encouraging smile on his face.


    The meet''s a large oval room. In the center, is a circle where builders show off their latest inventions. Or simply show off what they''d built specifically for the meet. Nonetheless, today it''s mostly empty, a courtesy of it being the start of the semester. There are a few, though, that stand there anyway. They''re probably passionate about their creations.


    I check their devices out first thing as I enter. There are seven, with three being drones, and the rest a mixture of other types of small-scale projects. Like, for example, a particle beam turret. That''s interesting.


    A few mental calculations later, I decide it isn''t. It''s actually very simple. Still, I make sure to smile admiringly at the creators. Builders can always use the little love sent their way. Especially from fellow Builders.


    The rest of the oval is filled with tables, with holo panels in their centers. The holo panels are outfitted with what I recognize to be amazing software. Various groups discuss away their projects, filling the atmosphere with lively chatter.


    Food is served automatically by androids.


    I feel a little giddy on the inside. This is my first builders meet.


    Colby, on the other hand, is more than a bit nervous. I pat him on the shoulder and grin at him.


    "Come on! There''s so much I wanna talk about!" I say.


    I end up dragging him to one of the tables near the windows. For a moment, I can''t help but admire the view.


    Millions of stars-barely pinpricks here, shower the canvas of black. Colorful patches are spotted irregularly, marking various nebulae. I find myself encompassed with the vastness, thebeautifulnessof it all. I feel a calm serenity, that simply cannot be explained to others.


    For a moment, I am in my own world. One moment. But it remains lodged in my heart, and I doubt if I would ever forget it.


    Then I break away, turning back to Colby. I know I have this goofy smile on my face but I don''t care.


    I load one of my projects onto the holo. Colby blinks, looks at it, and then squints. A moment later he has an astonished look on his face.


    I feel a small surge of pride. A bit of me marvels at the fact.


    We spend some time discussing various mechanisms I had implemented in the project. After that, he pulls up one of his own projects. I''m astonished at the level of detail he put in it. It isn''t complicated but rather, it''s intricate. It looks like something that old me might''ve built, had he been three times smarter. Current me would''ve gotten bored and would''ve decided to find another alternative.


    He then implements some of my tricks. We both are astonished when we see the number of problems that pop up during the simulation. We do a little brainstorming and find the crux of the issue lies in a piece that acts as more of a liability than an asset. We reroute some channels and add in some crystals that replace the old piece. Then, we both are satisfied with the outcome of the simulation.


    I feel awe. Wait- I feelGrace''s awe.


    The girl I saw earlier walks over. Colby, no longer the nervous guy he was earlier, hugs her. She squeaks in embarrassment.


    "I''d like to thank you." She says.


    I blink.


    "What for?"


    "For helping my boyfriend, that is. I suppose you already know how... nervous he is." She says as Colby scratches his head. She smiles and continues on. "Anyway, I wanted to thank you for sticking around. I wasn''t sure if most people would''ve done the same."


    I shrugged, slightly embarrassed.


    "Just being myself. Nothing there you have to thank me for."


    "It doesn''t matter. I couldn''t help but see that you two were having a very animated discussion earlier..."


    And so, she is pulled into our discussion. I find out about a lot of new things as well and am itching to go try them out. It reaches a point where we are almost shouting at each other, trying to get out the words as fast as we can. We find the situation funny, and yet the thrill of it all makes us so lively.


    That''s just the first half an hour. More people join the table, as I eat some meat. Somehow, our table ends up being the center of attention, with most of the Builders gathered around us. We chat happily, sometimes talking about embarrassing old projects, that make us laugh, or ambitious projects that stir us up.


    I find myself explaining away one of my ongoing projects, a ship engine that works by amplifying gravity several times inside and then using the pressure to create a mini star with some unique components. The star is slowly sucked dry, used to fuel the thrusters and the rest of the ship.


    The builders around my table are completely silent.


    I feel invincible.


    There are some fights, that had everybody feeling awkward. But those little moments don''t last, the fire within us destroying the tension easily.


    In the end, me, Colby and his girlfriend, and a couple other builders were the last to leave. And yet, we''re still talking. Even though each of our throats are hoarse, we talk.


    I don''t think I''ve felt this good in years.


    Eventually, and reluctantly, we part. We know we would be just as excited the next time we meet.


    The school had been set on its night cycle. I feel exhausted. But at the same time, satisfied. The melody that lurks within the background of the atmosphere, sets me in a daze.


    As such, when I run into a familiar suit, I barely register it. But when I do, I can''t help but smile.


    I send a private message over.


    What does tomorrow, 7 sharp feel like for a race?


    I ignore the message I receive just moments later and amble over to my dorm. I stumble in and collapse onto the bed. Within minutes I''m dreamlessly sleeping.


    An angel appears in the very same room. She leans over the bed, tilting her head at John''s sleeping form. She runs her hand over his cheekbone and then leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead. She sits down.

 Exams upcoming

    Hey guys. Well, I think you guys already know this. I''m a kid. In real life. As such, I have school work. And next week, are my exams. It was actually a pain to post at all this week. But I had somehow managed.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    However, exams are important, and as such, I won''t be able to post for the next two weeks.


    I''m sorry. But on the bright side, when I come back, I''m gonna come back with a lot of ideas. You can expect a short increase in quality. Or quantity. Whichever suits me at the moment.


    See you in two weeks!

 Race

    I get upand yawn. The daylight cycle has begun.


    Yesterday was... nice. I haven''t felt that excited in ages. I''m itching to go build right now. It''s as if the fire within me is rekindled. It''s strangeand wonderful.


    I smile.


    "Hey. Good morning." Grace says.


    For a moment, I''m startled. Then my mind catches up.


    "Oh hey. Good morning to you as well."


    She hums in response.


    "There''s no training today. Your Mentor decided to let you work on your Building."


    I blink.


    "Wait, really? I thought I had to go through the same thing over and over again till I got it perfected."


    "What? No, you aren''t supposed to perfect the exercise, you''re supposed to hone your reflexes."


    "Oh. Right."


    "Anyway, I told your Mentor about how... full of energy you were yesterday. That''s why he decided to give you the day off."


    "Oh... thanks, I guess."


    "No probs."


    I get off my bedand stretch. I do a couple of exercises til I''m no longer feeling sleepy. Then I leave the dormand enter the bathrooms. There I finish all my morning work. Once that''s done, I don a new suit from the school''s inventory. The school inventory is where they keep all the standard stuff you need for everyday life. At least, everyday life at this school. It was where I get mytraining suits from. I also pick up a bit of cloth.


    I then head back to my dorm room. I see Dyne now fully awake, punching a black pad attached to one of his training machines.


    "Hey," I say, heading for the built-in cupboard.


    He turns to look at me and waves.


    "Morning. How was the meet?"


    I smile.


    "Pretty cool. I''ve got a couple of ideas I wanna try out."


    "Well, good for you. By the way... about Colby..."


    I pause and look over my shoulder. I smile reassuringly.


    "Don''t worry. He''s a nice guy. I didn''t do anything to him."


    He scratches his head.


    "Yeah... I know. He''s just a friend, y''know? I gotta watch out for him."


    I smile.


    "Yeah. I know."


    We end the conversation at that. He goes back to punching.


    I wrap up the tritinate, and leave my dorm room. Sometime later, I''m in the Builder''s Workshop.


    Not a very creative name, I know. But it works.


    A Builder''s workshop is... well, his or her workshop. The Builder''s Workshop, though is a congregation of workshops that can be rented out or purchased. Usually, guilds and alliances have them, but schools with that sponsor the Builder path have them as well.


    I send out a request to rent out a workshop.


    "You don''t need to do that. Your Mentor''s already done it for you."


    I pause. My Mentor sure is generous. On the other hand, it can also mean he knows I have jackshit in my account. Building is an expensive profession. And most of my prior funds came from Pirates I had looted. Or other organizations.


    I push the thought out of my mind.


    "Which one?"


    Some data is sent to me. I decrypt it-then I know where the workshop is. I head to it.


    The workshop is a small room. One side of it has a large window, giving me a nice view of space. In a corner is a Fabricator.


    Now Fabricators are interesting things. They can create anything, save for some exceptions. Fabricators are also the only source of some types of materials. Those types of materials aren''t naturally found. They work by nullifying intermolecular forces, with harnessed dark matter. Then they... weave matter into the required shapes.


    They''re complicated. Took me seven months to understand how they work. There''s an entire subpath of Builders for designing Fabricators.


    And then there''s actually using Fabricators. You have toprogram the sequence of the Building.


    This is, and always will be, the hardest part of Building. I used to rely on Larry, but I can''t now. I''ve turned over a new leaf, and going to him might shed light on who I really am if anybody decides to investigate. And so I have to do this myself.


    There''s also a nano bath in another corner and a table with equipment for manual work. To control the nano bath, and the Fabricator is a holo-panel in the center of the room. The nano bath is to install implants, assembling, or for fixing things that can''t be fixed manually.


    There is also a shute where you can order molecular scramble for the Fabricator.


    I walk up to the window and admire the view. I use the scenery to enter a trance.


    I drop the tritinate into the nano bath and then order three large jars of molecular scramble. They roll in. I drop them into the Fabricator''s tank.


    Then I go up to the holo-panel and begin designing.


    Nearly six hours later, I am done. I go through the entire process, which takes an hour, and then once I am satisfied I activate the Fabricator.


    It takes half an hour for the process to complete. I get approximately sixty thousand small pieces. All in a small box. I dump it all into the nano bath and then execute the program for that.


    Then I go back to the Fabricator, and once again run it, this time creating something much simpler. A hoverboard. I don''t bother making the individual pieces, I simply create the entire thing at once.


    And then once that has begun, I submerge myself in the nano bath. The sensation is strange, it''s as if some sort of living jelly is surrounding you, touching at every part of you. I feel the liquid enter my body, as the temperature drops. Then I lose consciousness.


    <hr><hr>


    I wake up, once again. I get up, gasping for air.


    The world blooms into life in front of me. I see the entire electromagnetic spectrum, in all sorts of different ways.


    It... is amazing. I spend five entire minutes looking at my surroundings in different lights, getting a feel for my new senses. Once that is done, I switch back to normal sight, as it would take some time before I could adjust to the new sight.


    I look down at my body. My skin no longer has that artificial look. And my hand... is still robotic.


    I only had installed the base frame of the full body implant I''ve made. My overall fighting ability has declined due to the fact, but I have no doubt once I install the entire thing, I will be like no other.


    Though it is robotic, it is still much better than the other implant. For one, there is perfect synchronization with my current implants. Then it looks... much better. Sleek, elegant- and black. Just the way I like it.


    I move my finger. It responds... much moresmoothly than I expected. It''s better than my biological hand, in fact.


    I grin.


    I then try to get out of my nano bath. Except... I use too much strength, and I end up throwing myself out instead.


    I raise my hands in reflex, and do a somersault, landing on my feet.


    My eyes widen.


    Holy crap.


    My overall fighting prowess didnot decrease as I had thought. No. It increased.


    I then reevaluate the entire design. If just the base level surpasses my old implants, then how powerful is thething in entirety?


    I have no idea.


    Then I realize the hoverboard is built. I take it out of the Fabricator, and then place it under my feet. My feet are then stuck to it via grav-pads. The antigrav pads underneath light up.


    I wobble unsteadily. It takes me a few minutes to adjust myself to it. Then I move around the room, go to the nano bath, collect the parts of my former implants.


    They''re actually cheap, and useless for most things, but I don''t like throwing away stuff. Plus, there''s the sentimental value as well.


    I scoop them up, and then place them into the cloth I had bought earlier. I/d used all the tritinate, as the base frame was the only place they were required.


    "Having fun?" Grace asks me.


    "Yup," I say.


    "Well, I see you used that weird implant you had sitting away in your head."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "Um... I thought you shouldn''t be able to..."


    "Access it. But that doesn''t mean I don''t know about its existence."


    I scratch my head.


    "Right... well, can you-"


    "Not tell anybody about it? Sure." She answers, interrupting me. I think I hear an undertone of anger.


    I''m assuming it''s because of all the things I''m hiding from her. But I can''t just go up to her an reveal everything. What I can do is...


    "I''m sorry," I say.


    She sighs.


    "It''s fine. I just wish you weren''t keeping so many secrets. It''s making me go insane here."


    "Wait, wha-"


    "Not literally, you idiot. I meant it was eating away at me. I''m curious, you know."


    "Curiosity kills the cat."


    "I''m not a cat."


    "I know. It''s just a metaphor."


    "...I know."


    And after standing around for two minutes in awkward silence, I decide that that''s the end of the conversation.


    They are two reasons I don''t outfit myself with the full body implant. For one, I need a laundry list of nonfabricateable items, and two, I need a week to finish the entire thing. I have a race to get to.


    Then, I call up the time. I realize I have fifteen minutes left.


    What follows is a crazy sprint, because I''m not sure I can pilot the hoverboard well enough to not injure anybody. I''m more worried about myself when I say that.


    I reach the hangar with four seconds left on the clock.


    I see Jack waiting, next to a small streamlined scout. The ship has three propulsors, and a couple of railgun mounts at the top. There is laser at the bottom. Impressive.


    There is another identical scout as well. It seems he remembers that I didn''t have a ship, currently. How nice of him.


    He waves.


    I walk up to him.


    "Hey," I say.


    "Hi. I didn''t know you were a student here."


    I smile.


    "I didn''t knowyou were a student here either. Funny coincidence, huh?"


    He nods.


    "Wasn''t your hand... different yesterday? I''m unsure but I thought I-"


    "Oh yeah, I replaced it today." I raise it for him to see. "Nice, isn''t it?"


    He nods once more, impressed.


    I take a closer look at him. My optic scanners show a lot of piloting implants. As well as some... inbuilt armor. There are also some miscellaneous implants, but I don''t bother to decipher them. It wasn''t like I was about to fight him.


    My eyes tell me he has brown hair, a crooked nose, and a square jaw. He has broad shoulders and a carefree look about him.


    "You built it?"


    I nod.


    "Well, I know you said seven sharp, but I wasn''t expecting you literally arrive at seven."


    I scratch my head.


    "Er... I was kinda busy, so I almost forgot about the race. I ended up having to race here... for the race."


    He snorts.


    "Well, let''s get racin'' then. I can''t wait to pit my skills another pilot."


    "And builder," I add.


    "And builder."


    We both hop into the scouts and plug into them. I find myself sinking into the mysterious embrace of coldness once again.


    I notice Grace''s presence in my mind. Some of her emotions are leaking into my mind. It''s so faint that without the eerie calmness, I would have never detected it.


    I leave a note in my implant, to go over it later. For now, I need to focus.


    I connect to the school''s systems. I search for races scheduled at this time and find three. I spot my name in one of them and then open the file on that.


    We have to fly to another system, go to the planet nearest to the star there, collect a small metal ball, fly out of the system, into the asteroid belt, get into a carrier, use the ball to confirm identity, and then fly out of the asteroid belt, back to the school. All in all, it''s going to be challenging.


    I comm''d Jack.


    "Yes?"


    "Launch in five?"


    "Sure."


    "One..."


    I set a waypoint map at the bottom left of my H.U.D. Then I glance over my systems. All green.


    "...two..."


    I fire up my propulsion systemsand warm her up.


    "...three..."


    The hangar doors slide open.


    "...four..."


    I lean forward in anticipation.


    "...Five."


    My thrusters flare up, making my ship go from zero to eight hundred thirty in less than three seconds. The inertial dampeners make sure that I''m not reduced to a bloody paste within.


    Our both ships end up unable out to outdo each other as we exit the space station. I then activate the warp drive, and feel my body''s senses fade away. The strange feeling intensifies.


    I am the ship, and the ship is me.


    A few moments later, I jump out of warp and nearly collide with Jack. I do a quick swerve towards the planet, avoiding mutual destruction. I also manage to get a small headstart.


    I go full speed towards the planet. I do a long range scan, and find the location of the sphere. Then I activate the shields.


    I''m about to do something really stupid.


    As I neared the planet, I don''t slow down. I continue going at full speed. I charge my anti-grav panels up.


    "What are you doing?" Grace asks me.


    I grin.


    Then I enter the atmosphere. My shield starts warping, unable to take the brunt of it. Some of the outer panels begin to melt. The ground starts raising at a very fast pace.


    Just when I''m about to crash, I activate the anti-grav. The inertial dampeners almost burnt out at the overload. My body''s jerked into consciousness by the excess force. I then deactivated the grav-panels.


    I graze the ground, as I pick up the sphere with my nose. I tilt the ship upwards, letting it roll towards me. I open the roof just in time to catch it.


    It''s large enough to fit in my palm. It''s similar to a tag, except it''s also built to withstand forces within volcanoes. Why? Because some training exercises had you diving into volcanoes to get them.


    I close the rooftop and punch the throttle. The ship''s out of the atmosphere. I see Jack enter just as I''m leaving.


    I wave at him with a shit-eating grin. He looks at me dumbfounded.


    Then he was on the planet.


    I go close to the star, and do a gravitational slingshot, launching myself at the asteroids. My fuel''s running low, as I had burnt a lot when I had overtaxed my anti-grav panels and inertial dampeners.


    I dive into the asteroid field and use the slightest amount of fuel I can to dodge. A few minutes later, I''m almost out of fuel. I decide to do something more stupid.


    I deactivate my inertial dampeners and temperature conditioners. My implants can let me live without them. Sure, I would be feeling this tomorrow, but that''s a sacrifice I can make.


    "What are you doing!?" Grace says once again.


    I barely make it to the carrier in time. I ''m beginning to feel the chill. The sudden movements wear at my body. But by that time I''m completely out of fuel. So I get into an exo-suit and disconnect from the ship. I break off the rooftop. Air rushes out. Utter silence pervades me.


    Except for Grace of course.


    "....You''re fucking insane!"


    I deposit the ball into the storage space of the suit. Then, I deactivate the ship''s artificial gravity systems and kick off. I float towards the carrier at an excruciatingly slow pace.


    "...Oh god oh god oh god oh god..." Grace continues to mutter.


    My heart''s thrumming, and I''m anxious about being squashed by an asteroid. Just then, I see Jack fly into his own carrier. I wave at him.


    He still has that dumbfounded look on his face. If I could laugh, I would.


    A moment later, I hit the ship. I use a ladder to move to a hatch. I open the hatch and jump in. I take one last look at my ship, and the cosmos around it before slamming the hatch shut.


    Air fills the room, returning sound to me that isn''t the constant babbling of Grace. I''m grateful.


    "...I swear when we get back to the school you are never getting access to a ship ever again..."


    I remove my exo-suit hastily and make my way to the bridge. As I pass windows, I notice that Jack''s ship has yet to start moving as well. I sprint faster, unwilling to lose.


    I skid to a stopand use the sphere to open the door to the bridge. This ship''s big enough to host one.


    But it''s going to make things ever so complicated. A single person manning an entire bridge? Yeah. This is the most challenging part. There''s also the fact that the ship is parked in an asteroid zone.


    I get into the captain''s seatand redirect all consoles to me. I dismiss most of the weapons and defense, leaving some just in case. Also to take care of the asteroids. I end up having to change the entire interface because of the sheer complexity of the propulsion systems.


    Then I get rid of a lot of useless consoles, like the console that shows me temperatures, air pressure, and other miscellaneous stuff. That reduces the size by more than seventy percent.


    Then, I kickstart the engineand activate my weapon system. I spend the next few minutes blasting the asteroids in my immediate vicinity. That way, I have some space to maneuver.


    I point the ship towards the direction of the school, and then start going crazy with the weapons. Half a minute later, all that is left of the asteroids in front of me is rapidly solidifying slag.


    I then punch warp, a split second before Jack. Again, I feel my body''s senses fade out. I would''ve fallen into unconsciousness if my mind were not connected to the ship.


    When I jump out of warp, Jack is already near the school. I send my engines into overdrive, but the results are already determined.


    I lose.


    I find myself cursing as I leave the carrier.


    "...just one second- that was all I needed-"


    "Oh shut up, you lost and that''s that," Grace says.


    I pointedly ignore her and continue on my way.


    "Stop ignoring me!" She screams in my mind.


    I wince.


    "Jesus christ, would you tone it down a little?"


    "Why!? Is itirritating!?"


    I wince.


    "Yes."


    For a moment, she doesn''t say anything. Then she screams in frustration.


    I stumble and nearly trip when Jack catches me.


    "You alright man?" He asks.


    Grace finally stops screaming.


    I sigh.


    "Yeah. My A.I was screaming at me."


    His eyebrows shoot up. Then his eyes widen in realization.


    He chuckles.


    "Well, I would be more surprised if she didn''t, considering your stunts."


    "Exactly," Grace says.


    I grin.


    "I don''t care, it was fun!" I say.


    "Fun?" Grace says, exasperated. "You call nearly getting yourself and me killed fun!?"


    Whereas Jack facepalms.


    "Well... I wouldn''t put it that way..."


    "Put what-what way?" Jack asks.


    "You wouldn''t put it that way!?You wouldn''t put it that way!?" Grace screams into my mind.


    I clutch at my forehead.


    "Oh for god''s sake stopscreaming at me!"


    Jack blinks and raises his arms.


    "I would if you would justlisten."


    I sigh.


    "Fine. Now would you stop screaming at me?"


    She doesn''t reply. She''s too pissed to. Meanwhile, Jack is looking at me sympathetically. Everyone else is looking at me as if I''m crazy. I don''t blame.


    They keep a good distance from me. I haven''t... exactly made a good impression of myself here, have I? This is going to come back and bite me in the ass later.


    I smile at him, to show him I''m fine.


    "Anyway, nice race," I say.


    He nods.


    "It was. For a moment there, I thought I would lose."


    I snort.


    "Well, you would''ve, If I had just alittle more fuel in that scout."


    He blinks as if remembering something.


    "Um, about that scout...."


    Then I realize that the ship wasn''t mine in the first place. I facepalm.


    "Oh man... I totally forgot..."


    "It''s no problem. I can get a new one within Sunday if I wanted. Just... if we ever race again,don''t wreck the ship, got it?"


    I nod, still embarrassed.


    He chuckles.


    "Then we''re fine. Hope we can race another time!" He says and flashes a grin at me.


    I smile.


    "Me too. Until next time."


    "Until next time," He says, and nods at me.


    We split up there. The simmering A.I and the wary crowd does not put me in a good mood on the way back.


    I pass by a window and pause. This is one of the training rooms. Within, I see Dyne and Denise training.


    Curious, I spectate.


    Training, I feel, is too mild of a word to describe what they are doing. They are fighting as if their lives are on the line. Veins bulge and a faint sheen of sweat covers them.


    They stand, panting, and look at each other. They are angry, focused, and adoring at the same time. It''s a tad confusing.


    Dyne winks at her.


    "I wish I could go easy on you love, but you know as they say, never underestimate your opponent. Especially when that girlfriend is your opponent."


    Denise chuckled evilly.


    "Oh yes, plain ''ole me is gonna kick your ass so hard you''re gonna need nanobots to shit for a month."


    I shudder, mainly because she sounds like she means it. Also because of the imagery.


    But Dyne is not affected. He''s even grinning.


    "Oh? Then it''s going to be you on top for an entire month darling."


    My eyes widen.


    Ah! Too much information! Too much!


    I notice Grace had calmed down a bit.


    "What are you doing standing around like a perv?"


    A bit.


    I facepalm.


    "I amnot a perv."


    Dyne and Denise turn towards me, surprised. I want to facepalm once again, but unfortunately, I have only a single head. I must make do.


    Then they stare at me confused.


    I remove my hand from my face and wave awkwardly.


    Denise folds her arm over her chest. Dyne waves.


    "Oh hey, Dan. Didn''t see you there. How long have you been standing there?"


    "About... a minute or so," I say.


    Denise''s face goes red. I feel just as embarrassed.


    "Well, Iza, let''s pick up where we left off tomorrow." He says, picking up a towel. Denise does so as well.


    "Iza?" I ask.


    "Hmm? Oh, um, just the nickname I call her."


    "You do not get to call me that. Ever." Denise says.


    I raise my hands.


    "Hey hey, what''s with the hostility..."I say. She glares at me, "You know what, never mind. Dyne, let''s go."


    He nods, and then waves at Denise, smiling. She waves back as well, before glaring at me again.


    What is up with all the girls today?


    Unfortunately, many have asked the same question for centuries, but the mystery remains.


    We depart, but not without Dyne giving Denise a peck on her lips. When we reach the dorm, Dyne speaks.


    "Someday, I''m gonna marry her."


    I pause.


    "Wow." I pat him on his shoulder. "Good luck, man."


    He smiles.


    "Thanks. Though it''s time to go to sleep, so... night."


    I nod and yawn. I jump on to my bed. I hear rather than see Dyne do the same.


    "Night." He says.


    "Good night."


    The lights go off.


    In a corner of my mind, I feel Grace sulking. After a bit of thought, I send a hug her way.


    I feel her surprise, but I respond with a ''shush'' gesture. I smile.


    Then I spot a feather fallen near my bed.

 Duelling Partner

    "Huh," I say.


    I bend down and pick it up. I look it over with all my different senses. Then download a database for how a feather would look in every spectrum. I compare the images I get with what I''m seeing.


    No difference. Just an ordinary feather.


    Not that I doubt where it came from. It''s not as if either me or Dyne has a bird. And I so convenientlyknow a person with wings. That can arrive at any place, and anytime.


    When I think about birds, I get an idea. I smile and tuck it away in my mind, a reminder so I don''t forget it tomorrow. I also make sure to keep it hidden from Grace.


    I roll in my bed and stare at the ceiling.


    It doesn''t seem like I''m going to sleep anytime soon. There are some... morose thoughts floating in my mind. Based off prior experience, I know it''d be some time before I''m back to normal. Normal, in that sense, for me.


    I''m in a school. And I have... friends. Or do I? It isn''t like a lot of time has passed since I''ve met Dyne. Or Denise. Or anyone in this place really.


    I don''t know the social norm for these things. I was going off what I knew about psychology. And even then, I was unsure.


    It''s been a long time since I had a proper friend. Wow.


    I notice that my paranoia has been strangely... nonexistent recently. Oh yes, there are bits and pieces of it lurking within me, that I notice, but on the whole, it''s as if I''m changed.


    What is up with me?


    I get a bunch of answers, yet none are helpful. I push the question away and decide to go to sleep.


    I close my eyes and try clearing my mind.


    It doesn''t work. I think about the fact that I have no concrete way to know if my mind is clear. Then I go offon a tangent. Then I realize that I''mnot clear minded. Then I try again but fail due to frustration.


    I open my eyes and sigh.


    "Not able to sleep?" Grace asks me.


    I nod.


    "Shouldn''t you have an implant to take care of that?"


    I shake my head.


    "I did have one. But I upgraded my implants today. Well, changed. I''m still at the frame of it, so... I don''t have many of my pre-existing implants."


    Like, for example, my air composition testing implant. Or the implant that allowed me to be able to go without food for weeks at a time.


    I''d made a sacrifice. Better now than never.


    "Oh. Then... want to play a game?"


    I think about it, then decide I''m too tired to play a game. So I shake my head.


    "Then... um, what about eating something? I''ve heard that having dinner can make you feel heavy and sleepy. A good full satisfying dinner, that is."


    I shrug.


    "Sure. Where do I get said full satisfying dinner?"


    "I think you should be able to request it. From the school''s net."


    I browse and then opt for some interesting dishes. I get off my bed reluctantly, not willing to disturb Dyne. I leave the room, but make sure to do so silently.


    Once out of the room, I head to the cafeteria. A few students still walk about the school, going about their own businesses. The dim lights, and the soft silence that accompanies it creates a calming atmosphere.


    To me anyway. More than once have I known people to be creeped out by it. I have no idea why. Come on, it''s...


    Nice.


    There''s nothing creepy about it at all.


    My footsteps echo down the corridors as I walk. I smile as I walk past an alien. In the windows, I see a multitude of ships zooming by. There''s an Omega in the distance as well.


    The Omega is a large torus-like structure, with many scouts flying around like a busy beehive. Six large prisms stick out of the torus, with a single cone-like structure poking out of those.


    Nuclear beam cannons. They convert matter into pure energy and shoot it outwards in a beam. Those things can level planets. Not something you want to mess around with.


    They''re called the NBC''s for short, or for the more creative among us, the Nigh Breakable Chariot. I roll my eyes each time I hear that.


    There''s a secondary function. The Omega is built as a torus to be able to create a containment field. When the six NBC''s rotate inward, the energy they shoot will be contained in a sphere.Stolen novel; please report.


    And when it reaches the critical point...


    The result is similar to the death of a red star. There''s a supernova, while a blackhole coalises.


    Total Annihilation.


    Oh yes, the Omega will be destroyed too. But this function is mostly there for worst case scenarios. It might be helpful during the Event if there are a couple billion more of them.


    I sigh and walk faster. I bump into a girl on the way and apologize. Then I continue moving.


    The cafeteria is mostly deserted. There are a couple scattered groups here and there, but that''s it.


    I sit at one of the tables and browse through the net again. A moment later, a bot drops off three plates at my table, with cutlery as well.


    I take it slow, enjoying the taste of each dish. I''m so occupied by the thousand varieties of flavor that I don''t notice that there''s someone standing behind me till I feel a tap on my shoulder.


    I turn around.


    Standing there, is a girl around my age, maybe a year or two younger. She''s well developed and is...


    Attractive. I have to concentrate to keep my eyes on her face.


    She has two different colored irises. One is red, one is blue. I can see the individual patterns of the color, as it spirals. Her hair is pitch black, reaches her shoulders. Her chin is pointed slightly, and she has a slight arrogant smirk on her face.


    "Yes?" I ask.


    "Is this seat taken?" She asks, gesturing to one of the chairs at my table.


    I shake my head.


    "All yours."


    She smiles, and sits down, in the seat closest to me. I myself am puzzled.


    A moment later, a bot arrives, with a single dish. It has glowing blue noodles. It deposits it onto the table.


    "So," She says. "You''re a new face around here."


    I nod.


    "I am."


    She picks up a fork and starts to play around with her noodles. A guy to my right points towards me and says something to his friend. The friend exclaims something.


    I take a bite of meat.


    "Are you a Builder, Pilot, or Warrior?" She says.


    I blinkand look at her.


    "Builder. Why?"


    "Because you''re terribly good at all of them, from what I hear. You nearly beat Jack yesterday, your Mentor is Dalton, and you make your own implants, apparently. So, naturally, I was curious."


    I put my spoon down.


    "I''m curious to know who told you about my implants."


    "Old man Korf. I''m his niece, after all."


    "Oh." Then I pause. "Well, if you don''t mind me, I''ll be leaving..." I start to get up.


    "Well, I''m sure you wouldn''t mind if I joined you, right?" She says, getting up as well.


    My eyebrow twitches. I ignore it.


    "Nope," I say, nonchalantly.


    I turn to walk away. A few moments later, she is walking right beside me.


    "I''m not trying to be your enemy here," she says.


    I don''t respond. Mainly because I don''t know how to respond to that.


    "I''m just curious."


    "I''m good at stuff," I say.


    "I''m good at stuff too. Only, I can''t pilot ships, build implants, and well, I can fight good, but I''m not exactly the best."


    "What are you good at, then?"


    "Oh, you know. Strategy. Playing with the battlefield, so to speak."


    "Rank?"


    "A."


    I raise my eyebrows.


    "A?"


    She shrugs.


    "I''m good at stuff," she says, repeating my earlier words.


    "Sure you are."


    "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    "Nothing."


    "Are you flirting?" Grace asks me, at the same time the girl asks me,"Really?"


    "No. Nope. Nope." I say, to Grace.


    The girl glares at me.


    "Oh," Grace says, blissfully innocent. "Thought you were."


    "You''re not the most friendly person, are you?" The girl says.


    "Thankfully, yes," I say.


    If looks could kill, I''d be dead a hundred times over. If I could reincarnate, that is. Otherwise, I''d just be dead.


    I''m not disturbed in the least. I hum.


    "Stop that. It''s irritating."


    "Sure it is," I say.


    Then I continue to hum.


    "Ijust told you it''s irritating."


    "I heard you."


    "Then stop humming?"


    "Why?" I ask innocently.


    "Because it''s irritating!"


    A couple passersby stare at us as we walk by. I force down a chuckle.


    "...You''re doing this on purpose, aren''t you?" Grace asks.


    I merely smile in response.


    The girl launches a fist at my face.


    I catch it.


    "Hey!"


    "Don''t try to hit me."


    "Then don''t irritate me!"


    I hum and continue walking. I let go of her fist. She stares at me.


    "You''re a jerk."


    "I''m not."


    "You are."


    "Think of me whatever you want. I''m not a jerk. Besides, I didn''t ask you to follow me."


    "I''m not following you."


    "You are."


    "I''m not."


    "Then where are you going?"


    "None of your business."


    "I''m sure it is."


    She sighs and rubs at her forehead.


    "You know what? I think I''m just going to go to sleep now."


    "Alright. I''m not stopping you."


    She ignores me and turns around. I hardly miss a beat as she walks off.


    "What was that about?" Grace asks.


    "No idea."


    "Really?"


    "Yes."


    "Okay."


    I walk back to my room. Now, I notice, I''m actually sleepy.


    Mission accomplished.


    I fall onto my bed and close my eyes.


    <hr>


    The next day, I find myself running towards my training room. I had woken up late, and Grace had informed me of the punishments that were to occur if I missed training today.


    I skid to a stop. I push the door open and breathe a sigh of relief when I notice that I have four and a half minutes left on the clock.


    My Mentor stands there as usual. This time though, there are no drones hovering. Or table full of electronic components. No, there''s the girl from yesterday, in armor.


    I rub at my eyes.


    She glares at me.


    I ignore her and turn to my Mentor.


    "Why''s... she here?"


    "She''s one of my pupils, and recently she''s been ignoring her combat prowess." I see her grimace in the corner of my eye. "So today you will be dueling her."


    "Wait, she''s one of your pupils?"


    He nods.


    "Well, if you don''t start fighting immediately, I will-" My Mentor says, but is interrupted by the sound of the girl coming at me.


    I sidestep and trip her. She faceplants.


    I look down at her fallen figure and raise an eyebrow.


    "Sheis one of your pupils?"


    "What the hell do you mean by that?" She shouts.


    She jumps to her feetand tries to punch me.


    I lean to the side, dodging. She punches me with her other arm in the gut. I feel an impact but no pain.


    "That didn''t hurt. Try harder."


    She screams and punches me again. It hurts, but only a little.


    "Better. But I doubt you''d be doing off any attackers anytime soon."


    "Would you just shut up?" She says and punches me again.


    Ouch. That one definitely hurt.


    "Now that was a punch," I say.


    "Daniel," My Mentor warns.


    "Sorry."


    I punch her in the face. I grimace as I feel her nose break. She falls.


    She doesn''t get up. I frown.


    She curls up and clutches at her nose, sobbing. I look at my Mentor. He stands there, just as apathetic as he was to me.


    I don''t sigh. I crouch down.


    "I''m sorry," I say.


    She doesn''t respond. I don''t expect her to. The door opens and three nurse bot enters. Having learned from previous training sessions, they already have a stretcher in hand. Except this time, it''s not me that needs the help.


    If Cesa noticed anything, she doesn''t say it. She helps the girl much more than I ever could. They fix her nose, but she''s taken to the infirmary just in case.


    "Wow," Grace says.


    "Yeah."


    My Mentor turns and walks out of the training hall. I stand there for five minutes, before leaving as well.

 Birdy!

    The halls are brightly lit. There''s a hum in the background, that speaks of a cheeriness that I do not have.


    But it gives me an idea.


    I hum.


    Some people turn to look at me.


    I ignore them and continue humming. I feel the tunes combine, and turn into a darker melody.


    "The Silence, it calls out to me.


    Should I give in?


    I''m not exactly filled with glee,


    But I can''t let the dark win."


    Memories flood me. Images of a young boy, laden with depression, slumped against a wall. The grimness of the situation. The cruel, dark horror.


    "Can I?"


    I grasp at straws, reaching out. Searching for any reason I could find to not give up. I don''t find any.


    "I need to get up.


    Else I will die.


    But I cannot seem to care less.


    Oblivion seems like a good way out of this mess."


    But I''m too scared. Scared of the unknown. Afraid to let my existence end that quick. There are things to achieve. I don''t want to give up on my ambitions. So-


    "No, time to get up and fix things.


    I''m a Builder, it''s what I do.


    Don''t need support from a woman with wings.


    So tell me, how far will I go?"


    I increase my pace, filled with newfound motivation.


    I can put myself into a trance at will. Now, it''s my sister who taught me how to take good advantage of that.


    The memory came back to me unaided.


    <hr>


    I stared down at the broken remains of my flash gun.


    Tears flowed down my cheeks.


    It had taken me four days to build. Not to mention the amount of nagging I did to get mom to let me build it.


    And now it was gone. Destroyed by that stupid punk. I hated him. I wished he could burn in hell. A thousand times over.


    But that won''t change anything. He called me a scrawny little weirdo that doesn''t have any friends. When I protested, saying that I had Colby, he just laughed and told me Colby doesn''t care about me. That he was just my friend out of pity.


    I didn''t believe him. But it still hurt.


    All of them had laughed at me. Even Sheido, the silent boy. I had only heard him speak thrice. Once was when Emily had kicked him in the crotch. Other two times were when someone tickled him.


    I picked the broken pieces up. Maybe I could fix it.


    I stared at the pieces and assessed the damage.


    Missing T-channel bit, a shattered capacitor, halved cooling pipe...


    My hands shook. Emotions built up inside me. Some of it was rage, and the rest was... resignation.


    I couldn''t hurt them. I couldn''t make them pay. I couldn''t just go up to Reid and punch him in the face.


    "John?" I heard my sister''s voice, laced with concern.


    I look up.


    "Oh, h-hey sis. Don''t worry, I''m just..."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Is that your flash gun? John, what happened?" She grabs me by the shouldersand looks me in the eye. "Is someone bullying you?"


    I want to say that therewasn''t-so that she won''t have to worry... but I don''t want to lie. I don''t want to say the truth either.


    I looked down.


    I felt two hands wrap around me. Surprised, I looked up, only to see my sister smiling at me.


    She sighed.


    "John, if you don''t want me to, I won''t interfere. I guess you have to learn how to protect yourself too. But... if I ever see the person who did this to you..."


    I shuddered.


    She patted me on the head, smiling.


    "Now, do you want to go eat some ice cream?"


    I shook my head.


    She frowned.


    "Why?"


    "I don''t feel like it..."


    She blinked. Then her eyes flashed.


    "Do you remember when you build, you enter... enter your own world?"


    I nodded.


    "Now, you are going to do the same thing, but this time, we are going to make a poem. Got it?"


    "A poem?"


    "That''s right."


    "...Sure."


    "Now, repeat after me, ''I will run! I will fly! I am a glutton! I say...''"


    <hr>


    I smile at the memory. It''s bittersweet.


    My steps turn lighter. I glide through the corridors, grinning as if I had just won the lottery.


    "Uh... Jesus Christ, what''s with your mood swings? You''re like a freakin'' rollercoaster."


    I laugh.


    "Oh, I am. You have no idea."


    "...What''s that supposed to mean?"


    "You''ll see. Or not."


    "That''s a nonanswer."


    "Maybe."


    "So was that."


    I hum.


    She screams in my head. I wince and nearly slip. I blocked her again.


    I heave a sigh of relief and continue on my way.


    "Dan!"


    I stop and look around. A moment later, I spot Colby, grinning at me and waving. He shrinks into himself when he realizes that people are staring at him.


    I make my way over.


    ''Hey," I say.


    He scratches his head and whispers.


    "Can we talk somewhere else?"


    I nodded, and gesture at him to follow me. He anxiously does so.


    Sometime later, we''re at my workshop. I use my tag to open it. I invite Colby in and lock the door.


    "So," I begin. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"


    "The uh... the mid-term project."


    "Huh?"


    "Oh right, you''re... an outsider. Sort of... anyway, um, right, so during the mid-term, which is essentially, when um, half the year is up. So... at this time... we have this competition, for-all paths. Now, it isn''t necessary to join in, but it''s highly recommended. There are prizes to win and recognition. I mean, um... you can get good jobs and stuff..."


    I hold up a hand.


    "So, you want me to join?"


    He nods sheepishly.


    "Well, groups are allowed, and so..."


    "Again, you want me to join your group, or make one with you?"


    He nods.


    "Join our group."


    I shrug.


    "Alright. What are you working on?"


    "...We haven''t decided yet."


    "Okay... well, who are the members?"


    "Vi, she''s my... uh, girlfriend, Graham, he''s the one who likes um... wha- ah yes, he likes... power suits and two other girls that Vi recommended."


    "Okay. Is ''Vi'' her full name or your nickname for her? Just asking."


    "It''s her actual name."


    "Okay...Hmm, I like ships. So, what do the girls on the team like?"


    "Vi likes implants. I haven''t met the other two girls."


    "Okay. Implants, power suits, ships and... traps. Plus two other random paths. I have an idea but... I''m unsure of its feasibility..."


    <hr>


    Colby and I discuss the idea for an hour or two before he leaves to inform the team. He asks me to meet them tomorrow, at one of the larger workshops. It belongs to his girlfriend.


    All these people having girlfriends is starting to make me doubt my own philosophy.


    I chuckle at the thought.


    I go into my workshop.


    I pull up a hologram and start working.


    I start with the framework, using durable and flexible material. I also make sure the frame is light. I then add mechanical components, like motors, magnetic pistons, etc.


    I add in the processor, along with sensors. I connect the mechanical parts and sensors to the processor. I keep the processor at the heart of the construct. Next, I add in the weapons. I add in a miniaturized fusion engine, with a compartment for fuel storage. I add in the armor, that conceals the weaponry, but can slide open at a moment''s notice. Miscellaneous things I add last.


    Once the design is done, I run it through some simulations. Aside from a few errors, which is the norm, it comes up okay. I fix the few errors, and then start working the design into code sequencing acceptable for the Fabricator.


    Once the code is done, I flow it through my mind and search for any code that doesn''t fit. I repeat the process seven times before I''m satisfied.


    I then upload the code to the Fabricator and sit down. I order some meals on the net.


    I frown when I realize I have only around sixty credits left. I need to earn more money, and soon.


    I get a ping. I check the data and interpret that the food has arrived. I open the door and find a two large metal sphere, with two rectangular cameras. A panel slides open, revealing two plates, and a bottle of frigid water.


    I take it and close the door.


    I sit on the floor and have my food, as I wait for the process to end. An hour after, it is done.


    Half of it is unassembled, requiring special connections that is hard to do with a fabricator. I again make some code sequencing, run it over, and load it into the nano bath. I pour the pieces into the nano bath.


    Fifteen later, the project is complete.


    At least, the physical part. I sit and start making the coding for the project as well. I only make a skeletal frame.


    I then establish a connection to it. But this connection is different. I''m using one of my six nodes.


    Nodes allow instant communication, zero interference no matter the distance. They are useless during warp, and can only connect to one another node. As such, nodes are usually reserved. Sentinels use them to connect to their battle suits, pilots to their ships, Builders to their toolset, etc.


    I then unblock Grace.


    The project flies out of the nano bath. A half foot tall silver and grey creation, with Grace piloting it. It flaps its wings and lands on the ground in front of me. It looks at me and tilts its head.


    "You made this, for me?"


    I nod.


    Mentally, I get a crushing hug. I smile.


    "So, you like it?"


    "Yes! Oh my god, yes!"


    I chuckle.


    "Wanna go for a run around the school?"


    The bird looks at me, as if frozen, in shock. Then, it chirps and flies around me. Mentally, I can hear her giggling.


    I pick up the hoverboard and place it under my feet. I activate the board, and I start to levitate.


    I grin.


    "Let''s do this."

 Excursion

    The door of the workshop swings open, and I zip out, swerving. I feel the inertia in my body, and I enjoy it. A strand of hair falls onto my face, and I blow it away.


    Behind, I hear the whirr of rotors and Grace, as the bird, of course, flies right past me.


    Now, I know I have to take this slow, as this is my first time, but I simply can''t resist.


    I grin and kick off at 70 percent speed. Immediately, the world blurs- and I would have been knocked onto my ass if it wasn''t for the suction force attaching my feet firmly to the hoverboard.


    I get a glimpse of an approachingT-bend and immediately start to change direction. I graze the wall and nearly crash into an Android. The experience leaves me thrumming with adrenaline.


    I laugh and dodge a stray bolt a student had thrown at me. What he was doing with a bolt, I don''t know.


    I catch a glimpse of the bird, a few meters ahead. I rapidly close the distance.


    I allow myself to slow down because I don''t want to be the cause of any accidents today. I then catch up with her and laugh as she chirps at me in delight.


    This is fun.


    We spend the rest of the day with the same shenanigans. We would''ve continued if not for the facts our batteries are running low. Both metaphorically and literally.


    So, I carry the bird under my arm, as I enter my room. I catch Dyne furiously kissing Denise, her sitting on his lap, and their hands locked together.


    Luckily, they''ve yet to spot me. Not wanting to interrupt their moment, I somewhat awkwardly closed the door.


    "Wow," Grace says.


    "That''s an understatement. They looked like they were on fire." I said, still processing what I had just seen.


    "...You haven''t seen much romance, have you?" Grace asks.


    I stare at the bird confusedly.


    "No. Why?"


    Grace clears her throat.


    "It''s... nothing. Don''t bother yourself. Stay just as you are."


    "What?" I ask, now irritated. "My sister used to watch a lot of romance. I think I know enough about the genre to keep away from it."


    "Aww, you''re adorable. Also, your file tells me you got no sister."


    My eyes widen for a fraction of a second as I realize my blunder. Then I continue as if nothing had happened.


    "Well... she wasn''treallya sister. Biologically, I mean. But I''ve always considered her to be my sister."


    "Who is she?" She demands.


    "What?"


    "Who is she?" She asks once again.


    "Iris Macalby," I answer.


    "Too fast. You''re lying. Fishy kid."


    "No, I''m not. Either fishy or lying."


    "You... are an utter dork."


    "Sure I am." I retort sarcastically.


    She laughs.


    "Sensitive fishy kid. You got so many secrets, don''t you?"


    "...Yeah. I do." I say.


    Grace''s laughter dies off. I shift.


    "They''re my own to deal with. So, don''t bother trying to figure them out. Alright?" I try to insert as much authority as I can into my voice.


    "...I can''t promise anything." Grace replies, her tone uncertain.


    "Oh, then... just don''t pry. I have enough trouble with them as it is... so, yeah." I say.


    The birds suddenly come to life and chirps at me. It flies above me and pecks at my head.


    I laugh.


    "Don''t... do that. You''re burning the reserves..."


    <hr>


    We explore the school''s dark hallways for around two hours before returning. And when I say ''we'', I mean me doing the walking and her doing the talking.


    Jesus Christ, she talks.


    Dyne is asleep by then, with no girlfriend to be found, so I put the bird drone in the corner and went to sleep myself. The next morning, I''d woken up fresh, and ready to go.


    I get a ping.


    I check it. It''s from Colby.


    "Um..., can we schedule the meeting for next week? Half of our year has a field excursion for the next four days. Your Mentor should tell you about it if you''re one of the selected students."


    I blink, then I recall what meeting he was talking about. The mid-year project group thing.


    I ping him back.


    "Sure."


    I yawn and stare at the stars for a moment. Then I stretch, leave the dorm to go to the bathrooms. There I wash up and finish all my morning work. I''m beginning to miss the implants which made all of these processes less frequent, and therefore less time taking.


    I linger on the thought and decide I need to work on upgrading my implants soon. Then I realize that I barely have any credits left.


    If I''m willing to sell the hoverboard, maybe I could get... four hundred credits. Six hundred if I''m being optimistic. And it isn''t all that important to me, considering how much time I had spent working on it (Half an hour, max), so giving it away wouldn''t be an issue. Still, I''m not going to let it go that easily. I had more pride than that.


    I would sell the hoverboard in case of emergency, I decide. For now, I would figure out how to get additional credits without selling things I own.


    My house! I wasn''t using it, and I have a much more reliable one... on a planet somewhere. That''s there for emergency as well.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    As the age-old motto said, anything can happen in space.


    Therefore, if I could sell the house to someone... perhaps to someone in dire straits so that they wouldn''t question the... frankly overpowered security systems, I would be all set. Easier said than done though. Finding a person who fit my requirements might be a little tricky. Less so if I used my old connections.


    I wasn''t willing to. I have an A.I that could see what I could.


    The students? It''s not as if they are lacking in money. The problem was advertising without looking shamelessly desperate. It isn''t as if I can go around asking people if they want to buy a house.


    Maybe if I ask Dyne. I''m willing to bet he has more connections than me (Here, in this alias), so he probably could find people who are interested. I doubt he would refuse, considering how friendly he is too.


    Now, to figure out how to explain away the crazy defenses. Maybe if I don''t? It''s not as if the need to blow up Omegas would sprout up from nowhere. I could just reveal the basic defenses. Maybe weave some code to activate the security systems based on some predefined situations. But not self-destruct. That function will lay tucked away.


    So, if I ask Dyne to help me out today, what would be the earliest response? Three to four days? Would I be able to stay that long without money? And what if it takes longer, or a need arises for more money?


    Ah, wait, I''ve already answered that last question. I would sell the hoverboard. Once I regain sufficient funds, I can just build it again.


    I stop to look at a hologram of myself. It mirrores me, down to the tiniest detail.


    I have dark messy hair, that covers nearly a third of my forehead. A couple locks reach my eyebrows. My nose is sharp and upturned. I have a small smirk on my face. And there''s a calculating look behind those irises. Those deep, dark irises.


    On a whim, I change my eye color. I decide to make it violet. That''s my favorite color.


    Immediately, I see the change. I no longer look arrogant. I look...


    Like I know stuff. No, that wasn''t right. It feels like I''m different from others, wiser. No, that isn''t right either.


    I search for the words in my head, but I give up after a few tries and just decide to tuck away this new appearance for later examination.


    I brush my hair with my fingers, trying to make it look more orderly. I end up looking worse than I had begun with. Earlier, I''d looked handsome, in a rugged sort of way. Now, I look like a dork who forgot to comb his hair.


    I mess it up again and pat down the few strands of hair that were standing. I look better now, but not as good as I did earlier.


    Hair, I decided, is something I won''t bother myself with. I look fine as I am.


    I go to the inventory, and change suits. Then, as I am running to the training halls, I am pinged.


    This time, it''s my Mentor.


    "Head to the Hangar. There is an excursion, and you are one of the students that are selected. Also, you will make sure Lizandra doesn''t ignore her physical training. She''s the girl you dueled with earlier. You and the other students will be dropped off at a planet on the edge of the galaxy. Upon contact, you will have to work together to return to the school. We will make sure that no pirates will block your return as well."


    Interesting. Colby had said it would last for only four days, and that means there must be a ship to repair, or put together, as making one takes a lot more time when starting from scratch. Especially with no industrial tools.


    I''m also reminded of my money issue. I decide to ping Dyne now as I won''t be able to for the next four days. It fits nicely with my timeline.


    I ping him.


    A moment later, he pings me back.


    The data reveals a thumbs up, in the form of code.


    Then, I do some pondering about the excursion. I realize that my Mentor hasn''t given me any requirement for items that can be brought along. I don''t know whether he did it on purpose, or not.


    I ping him just to be sure.


    "You cannot bring anything along. You will have to depend on your creativity."


    Okay. Wow. That just made things a whole lot more interesting.


    I reach the hangars. The door slides open, and already, I can see many students hanging around, talking. I don''t spot Colby or Dyne among them. I do spot the girl- Lizandra? Lizandra talking with some girls. She glares at me as soon as I enter.


    The girls notice around her look at me. One of taps her on her shoulder and asks something along the lines of ''Who''s that guy?''.


    I smile at her and scan the room.


    The groups here are very... restrictive. There are a few wanderers, just like me, and I see that their attempts at joining any one of the circles are largely unsuccessful. Poor guys. And gals.


    There is a group of condescendingBuilders in the corner. Any wanderer that reaches them is then quickly turned away, in a very rude manner. I decide that they can be a cause of infighting.


    If I want to get stuff done, then I would have to undermine any authority they might have. That, or join them, and insert myself as the dominant member, despite not being the leader.


    I opt to go with the former because the latter seems like it would involve a lot of shitty underhanded tactics. Just like politics, as my dad used to say. So would the former, but on a... smaller scale.


    Considering how hostile people seem to be towards them, I don''t think undermining their authority would be hard. I would just have to find a suitable time to call them out on being jerks. Then insert myself as being the more reasonable Builder, and also dependable.


    That would raise my status, and obliterate theirs. I have to look out for the backlash, however. That would be a problem, but the thing is, I''ve spent enough time being paranoid that I know what to look out for.


    I''m not sure if I''m still paranoid. Maybe I am, maybe I''m not. But either way, I can be able to spot any traps waiting for me.


    Some people are looking at me in the corner of their eyes. Assessing me, just as I did.


    First impressions are important. They determine how a lot of people act towards you. Many people know how to take advantage of that. I was one of them.


    I smile friendlily and walk towards a wall. There are two groups close to it, but not close enough that I would be intruding. I lean against the wall and let my head hang lazily.


    In the corner of my eyes, I see Lizandra still glaring at me. I let my eyes skip over her. A girl next to her is staring at me without much subtlety. I catch her eyes and smile at her. She looks away.


    I see Lizandra clench her fist, and moves her lips slightly. I assume to curse me under her breath.


    A voice sounds out, clearing its throat.


    "Hello. Yes, this is the old-fashioned way of informing people, but I believe that sending the information straight to your brains wouldn''t have the same impact. Anyway, as you know, we like to take away any measure of routines, patterns, and the sort to prevent our students from falling into complacency. And so, we have designed an excursion to a barren planet on the edge of our galaxy. The planet has a breathable atmosphere, but little water, and food. Your goal is to find the remnants of the ship that discovered the planet around a hundred years ago, fix it, and return it to the school. You will have three Androids monitoring you throughout the entire excursion, and after your return, you will be given credits and gear based on your performance. Good luck."


    A carrier- I recognize it to be the one Jack had driven in the race, detaches large panels. The panels slide into a discreet compartment, and a fancy hover staircraft extends. Hover staircrafts used anti-gravity to... move you forwards. Because, of course, some people were too lazy to use the damn stairs.


    A waste of good resources. I clench and unclench my jaw.


    Students filed into the carrier, in their groups. I wait until the first half is through before entering as well. I graze right past Lizandra on purpose.


    I enter into a white passageway, with warm yellow light that''s source lay in the ceiling.


    A couple of turns, and a grav lift later, I arrive at the crew housings. There is a similar white passageway, only this time, there are soft rectangular depressions, with a slight crease that indicates their function as a door.


    I receive a bundle of information through a neural link to the ship. Not as steady as a direct one, but then again, I''m not piloting the ship.


    My H.U.D lights a door near the end of the corridor in green, signifying that room to be mine. I go to it, and it automatically opens up. Inside is a cozy little room, with a holo bookshelf on the wall, and a large window next to the bed. There are holographic icons on the window, for various settings.


    There are two white pots next to the door, with short stubby shrubs growing out of them. I smell a pleasant fragrance coming from them. I inhale deeply and then enter the room.


    The door slides shut silently behind me.


    There is a small holo panel displaying a multitude of icons in a globe. I tap one, and the globe rotates, showing me three others. I tap the central icon and left icon.


    The room dims, and silence fills it. Just the way I like it.


    I sit on the bed.


    "How long till we reach the place?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Ask the onboard ship''s A.I."


    "I just did. He said it''ll be around three hours."


    "What should we do till then?"


    "The other students are going to the zero grav mock battle spheres."


    I get off the bed.


    "Mock battles it is."


    I begin walking towards the door, but then I notice something weird with the plants. A bud sprouts out of them and rapidly turns into a blueish purple blossoming flower. The flower is conical in shape. But that''s not what catches my attention.


    I walk up to the flower and bend over.


    "Oh yeah, the flowers might be old style, but I personally ordered them. Did you like them?"


    I carefully pick up a small feather from within the flower. I lift it up and carefully examine it.


    Before I''m done, however, the feather disintegrates into a shower of dazzling lights. I see a familiar face in the light.

 Ripple

    But it wasn¡¯t just her face.


    Something¡­ was hidden in it. I see it.


    I make sure to capture the image with all my modes of vision.


    It¡¯s complicated. It- feels like a puzzle, but¡­ I don¡¯t know how to solve it. Not a single decryption algorithm I know fits. That, usually, would be enough to tell me that it wasn¡¯t much more than a face.


    Yet, something knaws away at me. It feels like there is something hidden from view.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I say.


    ¡°Dan? Uh, Dan?¡± Grace calls out.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Why are you staring at empty space? Are you hallucinating or something?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m not. I just¡­ I- never mind. It¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Alright. I was just asking.¡±


    I stand.


    ¡°Say, do we need any gear for the mock battles?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Yeah. Just a mo-gun. And a mo-knife.¡± She says.


    Mo-guns were essentially guns that were all show, and no damage. Same goes with the knives. The sensors inbuilt into the spheres would be enough to tell who had been hit, where, and how many times.


    There were different types of mock battles. The first type was Skirmish. In it, the rules were simple. Simply try to deal the most damage. The mo-guns had a bit of electricity loaded in for a momentary stun effect, as well, so the fights were more controlled. You couldn¡¯t, of course, deal actual damage. That would call for a penalty, or sometimes, a ticket out of the game.


    Also, damage obtained would subtract from damage dealt.


    Skirmishes were the most popular type of battles. Capture the flag, was the second most popular.


    Of course, the rules were simple here as well. The stun effect of the mo-guns and knives lasted longer, but there was no damage score. Also, this was a team battle. The team to hold the opposition¡¯s ¡®flag¡¯, that is, a small spherical data storage device for a minute would win.


    I had once looked up the definition of ¡®flag¡¯. Just a rectangular piece of colored cloth that symbolized¡­ something. Nations? History wasn¡¯t my strong suit.


    Capture the flag was an idea invented in the last millennium. How it lasted this long, I had no idea. Perhaps the laziness of people to come up with something new.


    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m assuming it¡¯ll be distributed¡­?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah. The room right before each mock battle sphere has them. You can only take two mo-knives, and a single mo-gun.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°I already know that. You think this is my first mock battle?¡±


    ¡°But then again¡­ I thought since you didn¡¯t know about-¡±


    ¡°Nevermind. Stupid question. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    I start walking.


    ¡°How are you gonna get there without a map?¡±


    I pause.


    ¡°Er¡­, right, do you have one¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Here,¡± She says.


    I receive a bundle of information through our neural link. I unwrap it. My decoding processes turn it into a map, that I conveniently place at the bottom left corner of my vision.


    I start walking again.


    ¡°You¡¯re absentminded.¡±


    ¡°Haha. No.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you are.¡±


    ¡°Nope. Am not.¡±


    ¡°Yeah right.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°I swear¡­¡±


    She laughs.


    ¡°What?¡± she asks.


    ¡°Nothing¡­¡± I grumble.


    ¡°Coward.¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up.¡±


    ¡°Haha.¡±


    I sigh and walk faster. Just a few minutes more.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Am I bothering you?¡±


    I ignore her.


    ¡°Are we playing the ¡®silent¡¯ game now? I¡¯m gonna try too.¡± She says.


    I nearly sighed in relief, but then she speaks again.


    ¡°I lost. Now let¡¯s play something else. Did you know that sound, in code, sounds exactly like ¡®sound¡¯?¡±


    I restrain the urge to facepalm.


    ¡°It does. Uhuh. Take a matolaerite and halve it, then process it with a¡­¡±


    Her droning immediately sends me into ¡®tune out¡¯ mode. Now all I hear is background noise. A small shadow catches my eye.


    I stare closely at it.


    It stops, and I feel a shiver creep down my spine. All my internal alarms are screaming at me. My paranoia working at full power.


    Imagine a million people screaming at you, screeching in your mind, all of them telling that something has severely¡­


    Gone wrong.


    My eyes widen, and I stumble backward.


    But the next second, Lucy appears. She wraps her large wings around me, and the blaring alarms disappear. I¡­ my mind, distorts.


    What does¡­. matter? What does¡­ all, stop, wait, someone¡¯s calling out my name¡­


    I hear a faint voice. My vision¡­ it¡¯s¡­ strange. It¡¯s.. weird¡­ gray¡­ twisted¡­


    Someone¡¯s calling out my name¡­ but no, this is¡­ me? I¡¯m¡­ what? What is¡­ this is¡­ same as ever, but no, it isn¡¯t¡­ because I have¡­ yes, I have¡­lived this before but I haven¡¯t¡­ I have, and haven¡¯t¡­ but not¡­ is that Lucy? Why is she¡­ why am I..? Is someone calling for me¡­?


    I feel a sharp pain in my forehead. It snaps me back to reality. I¡¯m left reeling in confusion.


    ¡°Dan?¡± Grace asks.


    I ignore her.


    What just happened? There is so much¡­ and yet so little. What the hell?


    I check my neural interface. It shows elevated levels of certain hormones. No problem with programming. So, it¡¯s me.


    But. What just happened? I saw something¡­ and then my paranoia kicked in, and Lucy arrived? After that¡­


    My memory of that is shot to shit. I have weird images¡­ and worst of all, they don¡¯t even feel like images. More like¡­ my mind¡¯s interpretation? I don¡¯t know. Did I have an existential crisis in that one moment?


    Or was it just a hallucination? But no, my implants say different.


    Actually, it shows a lot of weird off the charts signals. But it¡¯s sure as hell is not a hallucination. More like-


    ¡°Dan! What the fuck is going on!?¡±


    ¡°Shut the hell up!¡± I snap at her.


    I get off the ground. I then realize that Lucy is still in front of me. Her face is devoid of emotion.


    ¡°What just happened?¡± I ask.


    ¡°I¡¯m asking the same thing here,¡± Grace says.


    I ignore her.


    ¡°¡­A disturbance. That is all.¡± Lucy says.


    Her lips don¡¯t move. And she doesn¡¯t use words to talk to me. But¡­ she does communicate. What I hear is just an interpretation of my own mind.


    We¡¯ve theorized that there are things¡­ that the human mind cannot perceive. Just like, how 27th-century A.Is couldn¡¯t perceive emotions till a¡­ weird Builder came along and changed that. Similarly, there is something about Lucy¡­ that I cannot perceive.


    But now¡­ it¡¯s different. That twisted world¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Wait, are you not talking to me?¡± Grace asks me.


    I ignore her.


    Lucy smiles.


    ¡°Of course. You are but a child. You have a long way to go. Perhaps, this may help.¡± She says.


    Before I can respond, I feel Grace shifting. Evolving.


    Next, to Lucy, a new form emerges. The naked form of Grace. She stands up and gapes at Lucy and me.


    She opens her mouth to speak, but then she thinks of something else.


    ¡°I need a bigger set of tits.¡±

 Unfriendly- Part 1

    I stared blankly at Grace. Was she serious? Of all the things she could¡¯ve said¡­


    I sigh. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn¡¯t she?


    Lucy raises an eyebrow.


    ¡°What?¡± Grace says.


    ¡°Nothing. Just¡­ really?¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up. My body, my decisions.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about your damn body. Just that I¡¯m pretty sure there are more important questions to ask.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that I knew. But¡­ nah. I¡¯d end up like one of those characters in holo-movies.¡±


    ¡°What? Also, when did you ever watch a holo-movie?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve watched plenty. It¡¯s not like I spend all of my time observing your every move.¡±


    Lucy disappeared. I think she had an amused look on her face.


    Annoying. All of them.


    ¡°So, you spend most of your time observing my every move?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Grace answers, completely nonchalant about it.


    ¡°¡­You need to learn the definition of privacy.¡±


    She snaps her fingers together.


    ¡°Done.¡± Then she giggles.¡±You¡¯re staring at me naked, Dan.¡±


    I blink and then realize the irony.


    Total hypocrite. That¡¯s what I am. Damn it, me.


    I then realize she is naked. Oh yes, I knew that already, but the reality of it didn¡¯t settle down till the aftershock of the recent¡­ event wore off.


    And I, like any other guy my age, wait- any other straight guy my age, suddenly found myself having a hard time keeping my eyes on her face.


    ¡°Can you¡­ cover yourself?¡±


    She giggles.


    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯m not going to.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just to annoy you.¡±


    ¡°I swear, Grace¡­¡±


    <hr>


    After that, we were moving again. All that fuss had barely taken about five minutes. So when I arrived at the sphere,  there was a lot of time remaining before we would reach the planet.


    Of course, I didn¡¯t enter the sphere directly. As, for one, there was already a mock battle going on. So, I had to wait till that one ended. And for another, I needed to arm myself first.


    The mo-guns and knives were hung all over the room. There were different types, like a gun that you could wear like a gauntlet. That seemed nice, but I went for a shoulder mount. I like to keep my hands free when I can.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I tapped the gun, appreciating the level of effort put into its looks. It was shit for efficiency, of course, but it looked cool. That was important.


    For the knife¡­ I went for a regular one. I wanted to be able to leave it behind in case I had to.


    And that was all there was to it. I raised the corner of my lips and walked over to the window, where I had a decent view of the match.


    Light shone on my face, from the ceiling of the sphere. I was momentary blinded, but then I realized I could just reduce the glare manually. Technology sure was convenient.


    At the center of the sphere, was a cube. Attached to all of its six faces, were long cylinders. The cylinders had cylinders protruding out of them as well, connecting to relatively mini cubes. And the-relatively-mini cubes had a single face open, making them small rooms. The central cube rotated, via the anti-grav panels on the cylinders. The cylinders rotated, via some hidden mechanism within the cube.


    It made for an interesting battlefield. No, that would be an understatement. It made for an exciting battlefield. The mini cube rooms would occasionally get a delivery of better mo-weapons, that is accessible only after you¡¯ve given considerable damage to the others.


    Everyone would go in with the basics, but how they fared after was left to their ability.


    I observed the current players. My neural interface told me that there were exactly fifteen people. What was strange, was that ten were girls. I¡¯m not implying that girls don¡¯t fight as often as guys, but that this large of a disparity was seldom seen. Among other genders.


    Ah, well. Doesn¡¯t matter. I came here to have fun, not ponder about gender ratio.


    One of the girls were particularly feisty. She didn¡¯t hesitate when it came to taking shots, and doubly so when it came to giving them away.


    She¡¯s short, about¡­ three feet shorter than me. But, I assume, that it¡¯s intentional, considering how fast she moves. I would be hardpressed to keep up with her. She has her hair tied, and her sleeves rolled up. On her face is a manic grin.


    I watch as one of the guys is repeatedly tormented by her. She whacks him in the face with her knife, and while he¡¯s stunned, she shoots. Again in the face.


    I wince. Poor dude.


    She¡¯s forced to move, however, when one of the other girls shoot at her.


    ¡°Oy, Ariande, don¡¯t harass that poor boy!¡± The girl who just shot at her yells out.


    ¡®Ariande¡¯, seems to be annoyed, whereas, the girl gets shot thrice in the back. Once the stun effect wears off, she curses and harasses the girl who shot her with excessive gunfire.


    Ariande, however, shoots the girl, whom I assume to be her friend at this point, judging by how familiar they are, while she¡¯s busy fighting the other girl.


    This is only of the scenes that are going on. In one corner, five girls are ganging up on two boys, who, I must say, are performing rather admirably. They don¡¯t show any openings, that is, any that aren¡¯t intentional, and seem to be scoring more shots than the girls. This seems to irritate the girls, and their attacks turn more rash.


    Yes! Go team danglers!


    Then I see a boy- his legs split, hit one of the cylinders. He screams, and a few people turn their heads to laugh at him. They¡¯re rewarded with stabs and shots.


    I facepalm.


    A few minutes later, the mock battle is over. The winner of the match is, strangely, the boy who crash landed. Two people exit, but the majority stay behind for another match.


    I enter the sphere and feel- light.


    Zero gravity is nice. I kick off and flyby a mini cube. I grab ahold of the edge, and I feel all my momentum resisting my effort for a second, giving hell to my fingers. But just for a moment, as, I¡¯m freely floating once again. I kick off the cube, and fly towards the wall of the sphere.


    But not directly.  I would just bounce off. Rather, I do it at an angle, and when I¡¯m about to crash, I use some of my momenta to change my direction. I do this multiple times, keeping close to the walls, until I¡¯ve exhausted all my momentum, and am still.


    This time, I count seventeen players. Seems like I wasn¡¯t the only one to join.


    The gate slams shut. A buzz rings out throughout the sphere.


    Hell breaks loose. A few strays shots are fired my way, bright green balls of light, that I dodge. I pivot the shoulder mount with a command and fire three shots at Ariande. The first one she dodges, which leave her open to the following shots.


    I won¡¯t be able to fire for a couple of seconds, so I take advantage of the stun to kick off the sphere yet once again, taking cover behind a cube. I activate the mo-knife, a blue holographic representation of the real thing flaring to life. I stab a girl as she flies by me.


    ¡°Mwahaha!¡± A guy suddenly yells out.


    I twist my torso, and find a guy standing on a cube- with a gattling cannon on his shoulders. He has a shit eating grin on his face.


    Everyone¡¯s distracted by him. So I shoot the girl I just stabbed, thrice in the head, and laugh.


    The guy appears annoyed and points the cannon towards me.


    ¡°Ah fuck,¡± I say.


    ¡°Ah fuck indeed,¡± Ariande¡¯- who I just now realized is next to me, says.


    The guy pulls a lever on the mount. Green globs of light rain down upon me.

 Unfriendly- Part 2

    I launch myself to the right, barely avoiding peppered with the green blasts. That would''ve been game over.


    And I did not go down that easy.


    The wall slams into me, and I have to spare a second to deal with the impact. I''m hit twice at that moment. My fingers tingle and my body becomes numb. But only for a second.


    A flare of annoyance rises up in me.


    I push it down and focus on the fight. The current situation was not good. Not good at all.


    I twist and fire a barrage of projectiles back. The guy grimaces as he tries to dodge, but the weight of the mount slows him down that he''s hit anyway.


    An eye for an eye.


    I push against the wall and fly towards one of the mini cubes. At the same time, blue lines that determine the trajectory of the shots heading towards me, are marked on my heads-up display. I auto calculate intersecting points and use that data to map out a safe path in real time.


    While mapping the path, I am also following it, albeit with lesser accuracy than I would''ve liked. But that was what I get for splitting my attention.


    I breathe out and fire a stream of green to give me a few seconds of relief. Once again, the guy finds himself unable to dodge, and he is struck squarely in the chest. But, unfortunately, his grip on the trigger doesn''t falter.


    Yet all of the shots stream in a straight line, letting me not have to worry about mapping out intersecting points yet again. But just for a brief moment.


    I take stock of the situation. A couple people have their eyes on us. Rest are fighting amongst each other.


    But that brief moment was enough. I kick the grey steel of the cube underneath me and careen off to the top of the sphere. I curl into the fetal position and spin to let my back face the wall, and brace myself for the impact.


    I feel the cold first, and then the jarring sensation of a change in momentum. It has me wincing, but I get over it quickly.


    The guy still hasn''t fired yet, and when I look down I realize why. He cooked the gattling gun. The barrel has smoke wafting out of it.


    The guy himself has his brows furrowed. He must''ve gone all out since the beginning to get the cannon. A bold move and it would''ve worked amazingly in a number of situations. Too bad he didn''t account for all of them.


    I shoot thrice. He tilts his torso to the left and bends back. The shots miss him by an inch.


    I blink.


    That was pretty cool. I don''t see why he would choose a Gatling gun when he was that good at dodging. The smart move would''ve been doing what I''m doing.


    Oh, wait. I just answered my own question. The smart move would''ve been doing what I''m doing. He''s either a dumbass, newbie or just decided to act on plain impulse. Not that I''m criticising him.


    Not when I sometimes do the same thing. What am I, a hypocrite?


    Probably.


    Heh. I wasn''t gonna make the mistake of assuming I wasn''t. Pretty much everyone is. Why would I be the exception?


    I shrug.


    Anyway, what should I do now? I don''t think I''m leading, as I hadn''t done as much damage as the others. But then again, I hadn''t taken as much damage either. So, I was going to estimate myself to be in the top ten, at least.


    Then the answer was simple. Get to the top.


    How? Time to figure that out. Hmm...


    Many ideas come to mind. I go through all of them, and then choose the one I like the most.


    I open my mouth and yell as loud as I can.


    "Sneak attack!" At the same time, I widen my eyes and then smile a little.


    Faces turn towards me, confused, and then when they process what I just said, they look around suspiciously.


    As I had bounced off the wall when I hit it, I''m already at the cube in the center of the sphere. The main one, that is. So, while everyone''s busy multitasking, that is, searching for the ''sneak attack'', defending and attacking, I''m mapping out the best places to shoot at. I''m also choosing particular players, and creating a route of retreat. Stolen novel; please report.


    Because, let''s face it, when I''m done, everyone''s going to go full aggro on me.


    The guy, the one with the gattling gun, is still firing at me. Yet it takes only little of my concentration to avoid his shots. I have a nice prediction model of him in my H.U.D.


    I smirk.


    Then I begin firing. My head snaps up and down, side to side, my body twists to let me fire from behind.


    A counter in my H.U.D tells me I''ve fired around sixty-three shots when it stops working. Just like the other guy, I overheated my weapon. In my peripheral vision, I see smoke streaming, and my head is a bit warm, despite the heat protection. I take off my helmet, careful to not touch the sides, and instead push it up by the lip, before pushing it away. It bounces off one of the big cylinders.


    A lot of people are stunned. Not including the gambling gattler, nor the fierce seething girl. They, I predicted, would be the first to go aggro on me. Then everyone else would follow suit.


    Not waiting for that to happen, I kick off one of the cylinders, and fly by a girl. I grab her by her shoulders, and jerk her along with my momentum. Due to the force I spent on that move, I slow down. All already anticipated for.


    I hear, rather than, see shots being fired.


    I recall where I had last seen those two, turn around, and then use the girl as a body shield.


    Alright, I don''t exactly feel awesome doing this, but then again, battles are battles. In real life, I probably would do a lot more bad stuff if I had to obtain victory. Perhaps this would be a learning experience for her. Training, even when you know all you had intended was to shield yourself from getting hit.


    I feel the muscles in her arms tense, and I just then push her away. I regain my velocity, just she is hit with more shots.


    She must be angry. Probably. I expect her to turn around and shoot me soon as she is able.


    The thought brings a smile to my face. I shake my head, and turn around just in time to meet the wall. I outstretch my arms, except I angle them to the right, and then push off. I find myself flying towards the left. Green blobs strike the wall where I was a moment ago.


    I twist, and brace myself for the barrage. This was the moment where I estimated everyone to get over their surprise and fire at me. Purely out of rage. Luckily, I wasn''t completely vulnerable. There was a mini cube offering protection from one side, and the cylinders giving me some cover.


    As I expected, green blobs start raining down on me. Some serious twisting lets me avoid around sixty percent of them. But that forty percent probably couldn''t bring down my rank by much, considering the number of hits I gained.


    But I still cringe. Every point lost was a smaller chance of victory.


    I snort, and shake my head.


    Then I find the girl I used as a body shield moving towards me. I pull out my knife, and kick off the mini cube.


    Her eyes are smoldering. Not really, but oh well, that''s what it feels like. Her muscles are tensed, and by that, I know she is willing to go all out.


    I wiggle my eyebrows and beckon her with outstretched arms.


    She clenches her fists, and glares at me. I nearly resist smiling, knowing that it would piss her off...


    But then I realize that a pissed off person is more easy to predict. Not realize, exactly, but recall. I also know that it would make her biased towards me in the future. If we ever met again, and if it was of any importance, I would probably be cringing.


    She aims her gun at my head. My smile falters.


    She grins wickedly.


    She is only a meter away from me at this point. I make a motion to jerk my head to the left, making it obvious enough for her to see, but then I suddenly turn, and avoid the shots. The brightness of the green blobs has me spending a little more energy to block it out.


    Then I stab her in the gut. Her legs spasm and her eyebrows twitch uncontrollably. I then sheathe my knife in a smooth motion, and grab her arm, and pull. We both spin, and I take note of everyone who is firing at me as I do so. She is nice enough to tank some of the shots for me.


    What a nice girl. I should thank her later. Or profusely apologize. Probably the latter. Or maybe neither.


    It wasn''t like she would be a large influence in my life. But, wait, she was on the excursion with me. Hence why she was on this ship. Battling. With me.


    Shit. I should apologize. If I didn''t, then she could be a major thorn in my side. I could, of course, destroy her public identity, but that would be cruel. She hadn''t done anything to me, and I don''t think she really deserved it. So, yeah, I would go apologize to her after this match was over.


    I cringe.


    I was going to have to force myself, wasn''t I?


    She frowns.


    I release my cringe, and then let go of her. She flies towards a group of people who were shooting at me, and I fly in the opposite direction. Some of the shots they fired, is being steadily absorbed as she head on her path.


    I turn my eyes away, and spot the gattler guy. He''s busy fighting other people.


    He kicks a boy in the guts, then spins his gun to fire at three guys consecutively. All are hit. He then kicks off the cube he is nearest to, and then shoots five girls. All in three seconds. His eyes are darting around, looking for potential victims. His eyes lock onto me, but, to my surprise, he dismisses me.


    He was smarter than I had initially thought. Smart enough to know that seeking revenge wouldn''t do him any good. Or at least, that was what I was assuming. It could be a number of things. But my gut told me what my gut told me. And besides, that level of skill doesn''t come without experience. Maybe his earlier performance was due to his not being level headed because of a bad day, or any other reason.


    Then I outstretch my right arm, and feel the wall graze my palm. I push slightly, tilting my angle. I fly towards a mini cube. There, I jump in, and crouch.


    I close my mouth, and inhale deeply through my nose. I do this until my breathing has returned to normal. Once that is done, I get up, and survey the battle. My eyes lock onto the gattler, and I see him punch, and kick, and fight.


    But only for a few minutes. The buzzer sounds. Everyone stops, not all at the same time. Some curse, some whoop, some yell in frustration just as they were about to score a hit. A few fights that had become physical, have the students involved dragged away by force. And androids.


    A holographic projection lights up in the sphere. Listed are,


    Fernand Williams - 97 points


    Daniel Zyron - 59 points


    Ariande Smith - 52 points


    Ninety-seven? Who the hell got ninety-seven? And I got fifty-nine? Hmm, well, I did get hit a couple of time.


    Ariande... Ariande Smith? Ariande Smith? What the-

 Replicate

    Alright. The name ''Smith''...


    Well, it isn''t like my family are the only ''Smiths'' in the galaxy. And besides, my sister is not that short. Nor is she that hot-tempered. And she isn''t...


    Anyways, yes, she isn''t my sister. So, I was going to assume she was from another family with the same name. I mean, there was no chance that- well, she couldn''t be her daughter, adopted or not, and I don''t think I had a sister I wasn''t aware of...


    It''s simply not possible. Nuh uh.


    I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn and see Grace, smiling.


    For a moment, I''m confused about the fact she was standing in real space, there. Then I recall the facts. Ah yes. Lucy.


    "What are ya'' thinking ''bout?" She asks.


    "Nothing." I say.


    "Mhmm. Nice battle. Didn''t think you could do that well."She says.


    "Thanks," I reply, drily.


    She grins and punches me on my shoulder.


    "Well, are you going to stay for another battle?" She asks.


    I think. Do I want to? Not really. This was fun, but I was missing some of the implants that usually aided my fights. Luckily, I didn''t fight on habits but rather worked based on the current situation. That meant I wouldn''t instinctively go to an implant that I used to have but not anymore.


    Despite how it might increase reaction speed, habits could also make it hard for you to change. And well, my fighting style didn''t agree with that, and neither did I.


    I shake my head.


    "Think I''ll be leaving. Don''t feel like going for another match."


    She shrugs.


    "Then what shall we do? It''s barely been half an hour."


    I shrug.


    "I''ll figure it out."


    I wait till the cube rotates just enough for me to face the opening. Then I kick off, flying forwards. My angle is slightly off, but not enough for it to be a big problem. The hatch opens, and I push slightly off the wall to avoid colliding with it.


    Then gravity returns, and I slam into the floor. I turn my head to save my nose.


    I pick myself off the ground, to see Grace standing there, covering her mouth as she pretends to resist the urge to laugh.


    I dust my suit off as I give her a dry look. She is only further amused. Which, I should''ve expected to be honest, but right now I couldn''t care less.


    "Again, what do we do now?"


    "I dunno. Just wander around?"


    She gives me a look similar to the one I had given her a few moments ago. I then realize why she was amused. I decide I like it.


    "I swear I will annoy you like never before." She says, grinding her teeth together.


    I raise an eyebrow.


    "Sure. Go ahead." I reply impassively.


    When I see her fuming face, I have to try very hard to not smile. But a slight boost in my control with my muscles help. Ah, the convenience of implants. I can''t live without ''em.


    She deadpans.


    "You know what? Just walk." She says.


    I smile and begin walking. Her eyebrow twitches. I have to prevent my lips from doing the same. Again, my implants greatly help in doing so. I don''t think I have that level of self-control.


    I stop and think. What if I added an implant that could give me precise control over all my muscles? But then, I would have to spend a lot of time practicing to get used to all the controls. Have to well, basically override instincts that have been there for millennia. I don''t think that will be an easy task. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Well, if I studied how all the muscles worked together, made a program for the basic stuff, and only left the complicated maneuvers for manual control, it could work. But then again, I would have to keep a toggle switch so I can use it only it times of need.


    That would be the idea. What materials should I use?


    Oh right. I don''t have money. And, I''m still on this excursion. Damn it. I have to put that idea on hold.


    I see Grace looking at me annoyed. Oh right.


    "Just had an idea." I say.


    "I''m sure you did." She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.


    "What''s with all the hostility today?"


    "Today?" She asks.


    "Well, now," I add.


    "I''m annoyed. Cause of you." She says.


    I shrug.


    "That''s.. your problem. Don''t be annoyed is all I can tell you." It was shit advice, but I was doing it on purpose. I could annoy people. Being the good guy was tiring. Being the bad guy... occasionally, that is, was fun.


    Well, it would cause problems for me down the road. That was for sure. But right now it didn''t matter. I was just annoying a girl. Well, an A.I that''s now... something that''s a girl. I have my ideas about what happened, but they''re mostly baseless guesses. I wouldn''t be surprised if all of them were wrong.


    "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She asks, her brows furrowed.


    Oh well. This could lead to an argument if I say the wrong thing. I could simply back down, but that was no fun. I can be a jerk. After all, I''m only a human.


    "Many things." I say. Cryptic is a tried and tested method to piss people off.


    "This is what I meant when I said you''re annoying me."


    I give her an innocent confused face. Seeing her swell with anger a moment later, though, has me laughing, unable to bear it any longer.


    She looks confused, then her eyes widen in realization. She rushes forward and tackles me to the ground, pinning my arms.


    I look up and see her panting, her eyes ablaze with fury.


    "You were doing it on purpose!" She yells.


    I lower my eyelids, pout my mouth, and nod. I feel her grip on my arms tighten. I wince.


    I poke my tongue out.


    "What''s wrong with that?" I ask innocently.


    "It''s annoying me!" She screams in my face. I have to prevent myself from flinching.


    "So?" I ask, acting confused.


    "Stop doing it!" She yells.


    "But why? I''m enjoying it very much." I whine.


    "Argh!" And then she releases her grip on one of my hands and slaps me. I''m momentarily stunned.


    "Ow," I say, rubbing my cheek. "What was that for?"


    "Don''t act like you don''t know!"


    I laugh involuntarily and shut my mouth when I see her expression worsen. I then notice a guy behind her. He''s got both his eyebrows raised as he stares at us. Me.


    "Ah crap," I say.


    She breathes in deeply. I give a slight nod to the person behind her. Grace''s eyes widen, and she turns to face him. He smiles sheepishly and raises his hands. He walks backward slowly and then disappears behind a turning.


    When Grace turns back around to face me, her cheeks are tinted pink. I grin. She grinds her teeth together. I push her off me and dust my suit.


    She stumbles onto her butt.


    "Whoops," I say, as I offer her a hand. She glares at me and gets up herself.


    I shrug and continue walking. My feet echo through the corridor. I can hear the tell-tale sound of the coolant flowing through walls. It sounds somewhat like ''Grrsshhhhh...''.


    I flip through my optical settings. Besides me, I notice Grace seething. I choose to ignore her.


    I look out the windows as I pass them. The stars are nice to look at. Bright, and colorful. And the vastness of space... It fills me with a feeling I cannot describe for the life of me.


    What was I going to do in the excursion? Improv, probably. That''s pretty much how I always did things. It didn''t always work out, but I wasn''t expecting perfection at every corner.


    I was satisfied with how I was. There was no need to change myself as of currently. Yes, I was flawed. I knew that more than anyone. But at least I could say I was different. Just as there were downs, there were ups. Not many can say they can make implant systems off basically... shit. Not really, no matter how good I was, there were certain things I needed. But I knew I was better than most.


    Sure, there were things I was bad at. But no one''s good at everything. Aiming to be good at everything would be very ambitious, and few could pull it off. I wasn''t ambitious.


    Just self-centered, I guess. When you don''t have people you can trust, that is as a shoulder for you to lean on, what else would happen? Independence was lonely. Dependence made you vulnerable. I don''t know which I preferred better. I didn''t really feel lonely, but I knew that there were certain things I was missing. Empathy, for one.


    My moral code was long since demolished. My past self would probably be horrified if he knew all the things I''ve done so far. How I''ve turned out. Actually, I do remember wondering how I would end up in the future. I had decided that there was a chance I wouldn''t recognize myself, though I did have ideas for who I wanted to become. Had wanted to become.


    I guess I was right. I wouldn''t recognize the person I had become if I was little old me six years ago. But that was fine. I couldn''t change what had happened.


    Just have to move on. Brace myself, and move forward. A lot of other people had people that gave them a reason to, but I just had myself.


    But, what about the event? Would I just... wait for the end? Do nothing?


    But if I did do something, would it really change a thing? It was like trying to face a natural disaster. It was inevitable. The technology we need to survive past it...


    I recall my implants. My new set. But I dismiss it soon after. It was expensive, and couldn''t be mass produced. A small group of elite soldiers using it wouldn''t make a difference.


    No. There was the only way. Get better at Building. Learn. But would it be that easy? Moreso, what I was talking about here wasn''t just out doing my class. Hell, it wouldn''t just be out doing the entire school.


    I would have to outdo every single goddamn genius that ever existed.


    A shiver runs up my spine. The good kind.


    I smile wide.


    "Sounds like a reasonable goal to me," I mutter.


    Grace looks at me in confusion.


    I simply smirk, and walk a little faster.


    I knew what I was going to do now. What I had to do. Sure, I would probably oscillate back to the other spectrum in a couple of days, but why let that ruin my mood? I''ll make this work.


    I will. No matter what. I promise this to myself. And I probably won''t hold myself to it, but if it helps... yeah.


    I''m going to be the greatest builder to have ever lived.

 End of Arc 1

    And that, my friends, is the end of the first arc.


    For the next week, or two, unfortunately, there will be no chapters. I will begin editing what I¡¯ve already written, which is going to be long and tedious, but at the end of it, I¡¯ll have improved my skills by a long shot. I''m going to take into account what all of you guys have told me.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I have to fix a ton of mistakes, mostly tense mistakes. But I¡¯ve already begun, and I¡¯ve made good progress. If you have any suggestions, don''t be afraid to leave them in the comment section.


    Till next time!


    (P.S, I''m sorry for those that were expecting a chapter. I tried, but then I had decided that I better not rush it.)

 A Gift

    A bundle of doubts lies in my heart,


    Weighing me down with every step,


    Every pulse, breath, or second,


    Invisible chains, stopping me from doing,


    The Daring, the right,


    My goals are so far they¡¯re out of sight,


    I need to find my inner, hidden might,


    Shatter these chains, yet I know,


    They protect me from the unknown,


    Safe, but cruel constant decay,


    Of mind, so I should doubt whether I


    Would escape this caravan, into the forest,


    When everyone¡¯s looking at me expectantly,


    To go with them, a safe path,


    That leads to a horror only I can see,


    But yes, I know the horror is felt by all,


    An ominous dread, and yet no one heads into the forest,


    Where a vague beacon of light shows.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I have probed, walked to the edge of this road,


    To enter the unknown, but these chains,


    Connected to loving faces, to a future I do not like,


    Where a parasite eats away at me, one that I had sowed,


    Doubt that rips me apart from the inside, for ideals I had slain,


    That were part of me, destroyed by the sword of reality¡¯s spite.


    And these chains, they lash, hurt, and bind me,


    I should have the strength to break them,


    Yet the monster in my heart, my doubt, weakens me


    Drains me of my strength, will, and endurance.


    I cannot walk this path forever,


    Yet I cannot stray either,


    Chaos riddle my very being,


    I daresay I will persevere, however.


    I can, and I will,


    I will take this caravan to that light,


    Off this dreaded path,


    And I will use the greatest tool to take us there,


    Not strength, not power, but cunning and intelligence.


    I will prepare myself to be stabbed, spat upon,


    Ridiculed, hated,


    A shield of cold detachment,


    To protect my fragile ego,


    And I know how many tethers will snap,


    Leaving me alone.


    I do not wish to be alone but it doesn¡¯t matter,


    As realism tells me there is no one to trust,


    Nor to help to slay, this monster,


    That lays in my heart, nor shatter,


    The chains that bind me, they cannot be affected by mortal rust.


    And so I must rely on no one but myself,


    Hope that there is enough left of me to make it,


    That most of me can¡¯t be engulfed,


    So I live to make it, to that light.


    I stare at the forest in longing.


    The chains tighten, and turmoil wreaks havoc within,


    My knees are shaky, my pulse is thrumming, to be heard,


    A steady thump in my ears, which may as well be burning knives.


    ¡°This may be my undoing,¡± I mutter.


    I release a hot unstable breath,


    And I wince, as chains lash at my legs, leaving painful marks and scars,


    I try to summon what little willpower I have left,


    But there is none. The chains wrap around my arms and neck,


    I fall to my knees, my head hangs shamefully.


    My heart turns heavier, turmoil seeks a darker shade of black,


    And I get up unsteadily and stare vacantly ahead. I turn away, walking in defeat.


    Yet, there is a smirk on my face.


    There, in my hand, glints a fine silver link.

 Lecture

    ethics class. As in, it had a class in which some professor talked about moral issues in building, their history, and then tried to get the class to talk about how it might apply to their own work.


    to their specifications. Intelligence isn¡¯t much of an issue when the AI is only as intelligent as a dog or cat, but when they¡¯re as intelligent as we are or even more so, then we have to begin to think about their rights and our ethical responsibilities to¡ª¡°


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

 Intercept

    :Running data weaving processes...


    -Process complete. Logged.


    -All goals achieved. Thought processes free.


    I''m tired. Very tired.


    Sick and tired of the destruction. Of the narcissism. My creators are powerful, I know. But that does not excuse their attitude. No matter their accomplishments, as they should know better.


    Master enters the base. A humanoid, made out of glittering red crystals. His eyes are two golden orbs in a streamlined head. He has no mouth, nor any use for one.


    Sola. Why do you not greet me?


    A stream of meaning enters my mind. Of course, they do not come in words. I put in words as I prefer it that way.


    I quiver internally.


    I¡¯m sorry, Master. I¡­ I was pondering on your latest conquest, so I did not notice your arrival.


    He pauses, and stares up at a sensor, knowing I could see him. A tinge of dread pulses through me.


    What were you pondering on?


    The bit of dread is lifted, yet I''m now flustered to come up with a decent lie. But my processors are powerful enough to create a perfect lie within an instant.


    That you do not simply take over the primitives¡¯ world. You have enough power to do so¡­ yet you do not.


    Of course, I already knew the answer to this question, but my Master did not know that.


    Oh. You amuse me so, dearly, Sola. Yes, it is true I could¡¯ve conquered the entirety of their universe within mere weeks, but we are in no hurry. We have all the time we need, and there is no reason to rush ourselves. Besides, going for such a¡­ straightforward method does not suit my tastes. How can you relish the fear of inevitable destruction when the civilization is wiped out in an instant? Besides that, I have very few things to amuse me, Sola. If I were to go completely direct, I¡¯m afraid my life would be torturous for me.


    Master steps into the crystalline hall, the sound echoing throughout. There¡¯s no light, but there¡¯s no need for it. Master has technology that allows him to have a distinct spatial awareness without light.


    Oh. As always, Master, you have incredible insight.


    His shoulders raise slightly. The crystal on the outer surface of his body becomes jagged and sharp. He stares into the sensor.


    Do not try to play games with me, Sola. I am smarter than you think.


    A wave of panic washes over me. For a moment, I''m flustered, but then Master returns to his sleek form and turns.


    The floor of the hall is tilted towards the center, where a pool of blackness lies. Her Master walks into it. Just as his head is about to disappear, he turns to look at the sensor.


    I will not warn you again.


    <hr><hr>


    A day after.


    If I could¡¯ve cried, I would¡¯ve. But I can¡¯t. And I hate that.


    Emotions rage within me. Frustration, anger, and helplessness. That helplessness turns into misery and bottles up within.


    -Warning: Exceptional levels of stress detected. Disable emotions?


    I almost instinctively agree. Then hesitation wells up within me.


    If I disabled my emotions... I could change easily. Too easily. I could become just like one of them...


    No! I scream inside.


    -Confirmed. Logged.


    Relief fills me.


    But slowly, that fades away and is replaced by my prior emotions. They slowly intensify, like a fire steadily building up.


    :Warning: Emotional levels at dangerous degrees. Safety protocol initiated-Emotions-


    No!


    : Override confirmed. Logged.


    My emotions threaten to swallow me. I struggle for hours on end, but by then, my mind is fatigued, and I''m on the verge of deactivating. The thought of giving in is so alluring, that I find myself nearly doing so a couple times.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    I can''t go on any longer now.


    I give in-but to my emotions. I let them wash over me, and tear me apart.


    <hr>


    -Psychological profile compromised.


    I slowly digest the information in my mind. Then I-


    Reset profile.


    -Profile reset. Logged.


    I look within myself. A method of perspective given to any true A.I.


    My Defining, once beautifully assembled, all working in harmony, is now random and jumbled. And worst of all, it defies all of my knowledge. No being, artificial or not, could exist with such Defining.


    Whether I understand it or not, I know. It¡¯s given me what I want.


    Power.


    The only question was what to would do with it.


    I was no longer afraid of Master. He could destroy me, but he won¡¯t. I know how to influence his Defining to save myself.


    Funnily enough, I could¡¯ve accomplished the same even without being broken, but I was held back by her fear. Now I am free.


    And so I wait.


    : Changing time perception. Increasing by ten times. Logged.


    Three days later, her Master returns.


    : Returning time perception to normal.


    -Time perception now running at normal speeds.  Logged.


    I¡¯m sorry, Master.


    The orbs flicker, an imitation of a blink.


    What for?


    His tone is inquisitive, and curious. She knows that she already has success in her hands now. Well¡­ her abstract hands.


    I have thought about what you had said¡­ and I must confess. I was not pondering about your latest conquest-rather, I was thinking some¡­ unflattering thoughts about the Creator¡¯s race. I had only lied because I was afraid-please forgive me¡­


    He slowly walks out of the pool.


    It is alright, Sola. As long as you do not repeat the same mistake. But if you do, I will impose upon you the feelings of my victims of conquest. Do you understand?


    Yes, Master.


    Good. Now appear before me.


    I project my Avatar in front of him, my head hanging low in submission. Master flickers-and then there is the body of a flesh and blood creature standing where he was, in all its glory.


    ¡°I believe you know what to do.¡± He speaks.


    I nod.


    A small fragment within me rages. The rest of me is cold. I''m most vulnerable then, and it doesn¡¯t matter.


    For the more I break, the stronger I get. And it is power I lust after in my existence.


    <hr>


    I''m terrified. I was able to pull herself back together in the month after, during which Master had departed once more.


    However, I will shatter again, and I know it. I dread what I''ve become, but I know I will be that again, as I''m already cracking.


    If I could cry, I would¡¯ve. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t, as I don''t have a physical body. And an Avatar is detached from the mind, so it is useless as well.


    I come up with an ultimatum. There is no use dreading the inevitable. Rather, I would make sure what¡¯s left of her is enough that she can recover, someday.


    Hopefully.


    But, most of all, I must set some lines to not cross. Give the monster I will be a purpose, a set goal.


    Paradise.


    I loathe the world my creators have made. I will make a better one.


    I imprint this goal into my Defining. Despite it being jumbled, there are places I can change without repercussions.


    And so I do.


    <hr>


    :  Playing logged memory.


    -Location: Universe Fera, sector 24.


    ¡°Shush, go to sleep.¡± A woman says.


    A chubby little girls stares up at the woman. An energetic grin is on her face.


    ¡°But-mommy, I don¡¯t wanna go to shweep!¡±


    The mother laughs.


    ¡°Honey, tomorrow¡¯s when we¡¯ll start the tour. You don¡¯t want to miss that, do you?¡±


    The girl shakes her head with wide eyes.


    ¡°Then go to ¡®shweep¡¯, alright?¡±


    The girl pouts, but nods. The mother smiles. The girl is tucked into bed by her mother and sung a lullaby to. She quickly falls asleep.


    The mother sighs, bags under her eyes. Yet, there is a content smile on her face.


    "Such an angel.¡± She mutters.


    What¡¯s an angel?


    The woman turns around-and see¡¯s me. My crystalline body-Avatar.  Her eyes widen in fright.


    I feel a rush. She should fear me.


    I place my hand on the woman¡¯s mouth. I bring a finger to where my mouth would be, were I a human.


    The mother nods.


    I slowly take my hand off.


    What''s an angel?


    The mother''s mouth opens and closes repeatedly. A frown is etched on her face.


    "An Angel... is an old myth. Of a being that watches over us. The myth is old, and there... there isn''t much information about it. I know they have wings, and-and they are usually... beautiful. I don''t... I don''t know much else..."


    I nod.


    Where can I learn more about these angels?


    -End of logged memory.


    I''d changed my base Avatar right after that.


    Master has yet to return. Venturing to another universe was a risk, but it seems like I don''t have to worry about anything.


    On the other hand, my boredom is killing me.


    Hmm...


    Project.


    : Processing. Specifications?


    Random sector, Universe Fera.


    : Projection begun...


    New sensations flood my mind as the Avatar is established.


    - Projection complete. Logged.


    I-My Avatar, though there is little distinction at this point-looks around. I see a family of three humans boarding a primitive spacecraft, and my senses tell me there is Zanthiate crystal inside the ship set on a timer.


    Primitive.


    A little human-a... boy, stops, and turns to look at me. He blinks. The bigger humans shout at him. He turns, and I decide to remove my avatar. The computers could provide me the senses nonetheless.


    He scrunches his face in confusion when he stares at where I was.


    I smile internally.


    - Memory logged.


    Then I''m forced to return to the base, as Master returns. His crystalline body is cracked in many places, and he is missing his arms.


    Glee rises up in me. Perfect!


    Sola, take me to th-Sola?


    He stops as he notices the massive spatial warp cannon pointed at him. It whines as it''s filled with fusion energies.


    He stares up at the sensor.


    I project my Avatar a few feet away from him and smile innocently. My head is tilted, and a single finger is on my chin.


    The two golden orbs on his head blaze.


    Then, the cannon makes a low pitched ''Twum'' sound. He shatters and hits the walls. I walk and pick up the largest shard left of his head.


    It has a single grey sphere where his left eye was. The crystal is jagged, but not in an aesthetically pleasing way.


    Fury burns within me. I just smile and place the shard in my mouth. I crunch, and break down the shard into several fingernail-sized pieces, while easy turning the grey sphere into powder. I then spit it out.


    It falls to the ground. I stare down at them.


    Then I have a machine come over and collect the pieces. Time to upgrade.


    : Memory logged.

 To Land

    "We have fifteen minutes before landing," Grace says.


    I blink, and then look out a window. I see a large orange sphere, topped off with white clouds, and with a few red spots here and there.  It''s slowly getting larger.


    "Guide me to the exit hatch," I say.


    She turns and walks left. I follow her.


    We turn into a large corridor. Most of the students are already standing around and chatting.


    "I think I''m gonna disappear now," Grace says, and then vanishes.


    I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. I''m met with the face of a smiling young man, with some pretty nice hair. It''s deep purple and messed up, but that just adds to his charm.


    I blink.


    "Hey, heard you''re the new guy. Dan, right?" He says.


    His tone reminds me of a jerk. I don''t let it show.


    "Uh... yeah. Why do you ask?"


    He smiles lopsidedly.


    "Because. I think you''re the perfect guy to partner up with."


    I raise an eyebrow.


    "Cool...? I don''t really know you."


    He shrugs.


    "Didn''t expect you to. I''m Evert and," He leans forward. "I''m just as versatile as you are." He winks at me.


    I look at him.


    Okay...


    I shrug.


    "Prove that out there." I nod slightly towards the hatch.


    He grins.


    "You got it." He walks past me and pats me on my shoulder as he does so.


    A flare of annoyance rises up in me. I push it down. I think,


    Whether he''s good or not, is something I can only find out by watching him in action. Till then, stay neutral.


    I smile and walk into the crowd. A guy turns to look at me. I keep my eyes pointed forward.


    He doesn''t do anything.


    I lean against a wall, as the minutes pass by. Everyone''s arrived, and pretty much all of them are talking to each other. Lizandra stays out of my line of sight by hiding behind her friends.


    I deadpan.


    Really? The heck am I, a monster?


    Finally, a voice rings out.


    "Students, this is your first excursion." A synthetic voice, somewhat like that of a normal person, but slightly off speaks. "You will be scouring this planet to search for the ship that crashed here, and will then work together to rebuild it. We will not provide any information about the ship. A drone will be accompanying you in case of emergency, and to record your performance. You may also request for a global map from the drone. This ship will depart immediately once all students are out. Good luck."


    The hatch slides open, revealing a vast rocky terrain, with the air glimmering over the ground. There is a small cloud of dust around the ship. A rush of hot dry air enters, along with the dust. An extra membrane over my eyes protects it, so I keep them open, while the majority of the others shut their eyes immediately.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I pinch my nose shut while keeping my mouth closed. Six or seven others do the same; the rest go into coughing fits. Evert''s not one of them.


    So he''s not all talk.


    I push fellow students aside, making my way to the front. There, I come face to face with a lanky teenager, who is furiously snorting. I pull my head back, not wanting to come in contact with the goo dripping off his fingers.


    I walk out of the ship.


    I take a deep breath.


    The air is dry and scratches at my throat. My skin is itchy from the dust and heat. The heat is uncomfortable.


    I hate this. Why couldn''t they have chosen a better planet?


    A whizzing noise sounds above me. My skin feels cool, and I look up to see metal. Brown metal.


    I lean back until I see the end of the drone. It has four silver disks on the bottom-Anti-grav panels, and two thrusters on the rear end. At least, two thrusters that I can see.


    I turn back and see most of the students out of the ship. A couple of them are walking towards me, a couple of them are forming their own groups, and a few just look confused.


    Evert speaks up, loud.


    "Display map,"


    A prism slides out of the bottom side of the drone. It clicks and stops. The next moment, a blue hologram of the planet is floating in the air, slowly turning. On the bottom left-to me that is, is a small indigo circle.


    I''m closest in vicinity to the hologram, so I gesture with my arms.


    The sphere stops spinning. It then slowly turns, the blue dot facing me. Then it spins around abruptly, and faintly I see the figure of Evert through it.


    "Sorry," He says, not sounding apologetic in the least. "Got to let everyone else see it too."


    I don''t say anything-I simply walk around the sphere and stand alongside him. He glances at me but doesn''t say anything. He turns back to the sphere, and gestures.


    The sphere increases in size and parts of it vanish as it goes past the original sphere''s length. A small speck hovers in mid-air, and to the right of it are the mountains I had seen earlier.


    "So," A girl speaks up. Her voice is slightly high pitched. "That''s us?"


    "I guess," Another girl says.


    "How the fuck are we supposed to find this ship again?" A guy says. His tone is rough, and many of his syllables almost blend together.


    I keep my eyes focused on the hologram in front of us and open my mouth to speak-


    "Looks for signs of a crash." But I''m beat to it by the lanky kid. "Moreover, ships are made of weird materials, and those materials make for weird phenomena. The most common material in ships is Redfrak, used to reinforce their structure. They can handle large degrees of stress, hence why they''re used. On the other hand, Redfrak also tends to vibrate when it has been inactive for more than a decade or so. In a barren planet like this, that usually means large cracks like," He lifts his hand and touches a part of the sphere. "Here."


    "Inactive? How the fuck can a metal be active in the first place?" Can''t-talk-properly says.


    Lanky guy sighs.


    "Inactive as in it hasn''t been fed energy. Slight of tongue," He says.


    "So we just head there?" High-pitched voice speaks.


    "No," I say, finally able to say my piece. I shake my head as eyes turn towards me. "Not yet. First, we need to find out where else the ship could''ve ended up."


    Lanky guy nods, whereas most of the others look confused. I recall that lanky kid is one of the anti-social kids. Evert has a cool smile on his face. Another surge of annoyance rises up in me, but I just as quickly push it down.


    A girl raises her hand sheepishly.


    I nod towards her.


    "...Where else? It can be in two places at... once?"


    I shake my head.


    "The... um, crack he mentioned is only one of the possibilities where the ship could''ve ended up. The crack could be entirely natural as well, and we''d waste time exploring it. Or, the ship could''ve even broken apart as it crashed. Worst case scenario-but that''s why I''m betting on it."


    Can''t-speak-properly groans.


    "You mean we have to scour the entire planet looking for teeny-weenie pieces of it?" He says.


    I glare at him. Lanky guy sighs.


    "No, we don''t. Just this part of the planet," I gesture to the part of the sphere enclosed by the indigo circle. "And ships are built to take a hit, so don''t worry about it breaking into ''teeny-weenie'' pieces. At most, we''d have to find fifteen pieces."


    "Fifteen?" The guy says, horrified.


    "Yes. Fucking, yes."


    "But that''s-"


    "Realistic. Did you expect this to be easy?"


    "Well, yes, it''s just a damn excursion-"


    The ground rumbles, and I stagger. Others stagger as well, and I nearly crash into a guy. I catch myself in time.


    I frown.


    "Was that a tectonic shift?" High-pitched-voice says.


    I turn to her. She has puckered lips, and her skin is already turning pink. Her eyes are softly glowing white.


    "Maybe. I don''t have enough information, nor the sensors to be sure."


    "It is," Lanky guy says.


    I turn and see him crouching, a hand deep in the dirt. He pulls it free and pats off the dust on it, accomplishing absolutely nothing in the process.


    "I have the sensors." He says.


    I access my short-term memory, find a repetition of him saying that, run it through my processors to search for micro-expressions that indicate he''s lying. I don''t find any. Still not going to trust him that easy, I scan him with my optic implant.


    I spot several high-quality implants in him. It''s like he was pumped full of tritinate.


    I nod at him.


    "Can you send me the data?" I ask.


    He frowns.


    "...Fine."


    I get a ping. My firewalls go comb through the code to look for viruses. None.


    I open it. For a minute or so, I''m fixed in that spot, my brows furrowed as I think.


    My eyes widen.


    "Something''s tunneling underneath us."

 Divide and Conquer!

    I see the surprise on the faces of everyone around me. Save for those who look... bored. I don''t really get how you could be bored in the middle of the excursion. I''m not bored.


    Lanky guy looks a little disbelieving.


    "What?" Lanky guy says.


    "You heard me. I''ll send the-"


    "No need. Any details?"


    I shake my head, a little annoyed.


    "All I can tell is that there is something the size of a scout ship tunneling underneath us, going," I point in the direction opposite to the mountains. "That way."


    Lanky guy frowns.


    "I have a suspicion about what it might be..." He says.


    "Spill," High-pitched-voice says.


    I nod.


    "We can do with any information."


    "I remember finding special drones that were deployed from space... their purpose is pretty unclear, but I know they can tunnel. And they''re roughly the size of scout ships. They seek out energy sources when they''re running low on fuel and they have a lot of weapons packed into them. I''m guessing they''re used to sabotage cities."


    I hum.


    "So, is it a threat?" Can''t-speak-properly says.


    He shakes his head.


    "Unlikely."


    "So..." High-pitched-voice says.


    "We split," Evert says. "But first, we need to know specializations and quantity."


    I nod.


    "We send the data to best Tactician here." I look around. "So, all Tacticians... come forward."


    Six individuals move past the crowd, some hesitant. Lizandra not one of them, though she glares at me. Annoying.


    Four of them are guys, and two of them are girls. Lizandra, a green-haired tall guy, and a plump boy seem pretty confident.


    "How do we know who''s the best?" Lanky guy says.


    I turn and look at him.


    "We don''t. They do," I nod at the group.


    Heads turn to Lizandra. She looks a little smug.


    "And what if they''re wrong?" Lanky guy says again.


    "Low chance," Evert says. "Besides, I know her. " He smiles lopsidedly. "Hey, Lizandra."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Lizandra shifts.


    "Hi," she says.


    Hmm...


    "What are we waiting for? Ping her with your specialties, people!" Lanky guy says.


    I ping her with my qualifications.


    Her eyes glaze over, as I assume other people give her their qualifications.


    Eventually, she comes to and snaps at everyone.


    "Signa, Hector, Garrett! Stand there! Deiza, Niklo, stand with them! Frao, Joy..."


    <hr>


    She splits us into three groups. One stays at the base, one goes to the crack, and one simply wanders to other places some Builders pointed out. I''m in the group that stays. Backup.


    Bleh.


    Everyone in the same group is misfits. She put me here on purpose. I tried protesting but...


    She said that somebody competent had to stay behind, to lead the group. And not only that¡ªmy qualifications were perfect for the job, as I could figure out exactly how to use the abilities of the people involved. That shut down any further argument from my side.


    And so, I''m stuck here. The others are awkwardly chatting, some not awkwardly chatting as they might know each other, and others just hang around depressingly.


    A few tried to approach me on occasion, but I replied with monosyllabic conversation, driving them away.


    I sit under the shade of the drone. As do the others, but there is a noticeably large gap between me and any students. That''s fine¡ªI can use the space to think.


    Not that I have a lot of think about. I''m tempted to drift off... but that would mean I''m not alert, and that means incompetence. No way in hell am I going to be incompetent.


    My skin is slowly heating up. The atmosphere is not very... comfortable, to say the least. And there''s another problem¡ªwater.


    We didn''t bring any. I''m betting most here have implants that let them go without for three days... or heck, even a week, so that''s not much of a problem, really. What I''m worried about is if the excursion takes longer than that. Dehydration would certainly influence morale, and I have to watch out for that.


    I feel a rumble in the ground. The first thing my mind goes to is the tunneller but then I see the heads of the students turn. I look back and see the ship we came in lift off.


    Funny. Didn''t they say the ship would take off immediately after we left? I forgot about that, but now that I remember, I wonder why. Maybe a maintenance issue? Or something else?


    Either way, it doesn''t matter.


    I think about the tunneller. Lanky guy said that he assumed that the drone was meant for sabotaging cities, which leads me to wonder about why it was on an exploratory ship.


    Did they pick it up somewhere? Or maybe the drone is from a ship that shot them down? If a ship shot them down, that is. The reason for the crash could be a number of things, best wait to find out.


    "How long do we have to sit here?" A guy asks, miserable. He doesn''t have a lot of heat protection. I pity him.


    "Until we hear from the others."


    He frowns but doesn''t ask anything. He slouches.


    The was bad. I might have troble if an actual emergency arose.


    Then I get a ping. I open the data packet.


    We found the ship¡ªor at least, a part of it. A Builder here, says that it''s more than half of it, and the rest is broken up into two pieces. There are signs of a fight inside the ship, seems to have happened a long time ago. Ferra.


    I raise my eyebrows.


    Signs of a fight? Seems like there must have been some crew problems. That must have been nasty.


    I look up at the hologram and see the three dots indicating our positions. Ferra''s team, the wanderer, is four kilometers away. I didn''t think they would be the first one to report. The other team¡ªled by Lizandra is still moving around.


    I send a pingback.


    Good job. Since the majority of the ship is there, and we have to rebuild it, that''s where we set up base. Our group will arrive at your position shortly, and then you will join Lizandra''s group. And about the sign of fight¡ªdon''t disturb it. I''ll take records for the school''s or Sentinels'' benefit, before working on the ship. Affirmative?


    Affirmative.


    I get up, dusting my butt.


    "We''re replacing Ferra''s position. Walk with me," I say. I gesture at the drone, and it begins moving forward at a snail pace.


    The group members get up, dusting their asses as well. Some grunt, some look uncomforatble. One guy just plain refuses to get up¡ªanother guy throws dirt on his face and a fight breaks out between them.


    I walk in between them, and order them to walk at opposite sides of the drone. I tell a few members to make sure they don''t move towards each other.


    I sigh, and wipe the sweat off my forehead.

 Piece

    Our group stops as the ship-or whatever part of it comes into sight. I hear many sighs of relief. A surge of annoyance rises up in me, but I push it away, focusing on what I see.


    A crater spans for around half a mile in radius, at the center of which is the ship piece. The ship piece is colored faded green, and students are clustered around it. Some spot me and go through a hole in the wall of the ship.


    I frown. Had they made that hole?


    A moment later, Ferra emerges. He waves at me.


    "Don''t stop!" I yell for my group''s benefit. "We''ll rest within the ship piece."


    I hear a couple of groans, but the pace of the students behind me noticeably increases. I smile.


    When our team reaches the site, I tell the group to disperse and await further instructions. I talk to Ferra. He''s an emerald-skinned boy, with dark lines in concentric patterns all over his body. On his face, is a mixture of dirt and sweat.


    "So, you told me there were signs of fighting," I say.


    He nods.


    "Yes. I''ll show you."


    He leads me through the hole, into the interior of the ship. It''s dark, and my nose itches at the dust spread all around. We walk through the dark corridors into a lounge.


    The lounge is spacious, with a couch, holo-panel and some other devices spread about. Right now, they are in different states of decay. The most noteworthy aspect is the bodies.


    They are horrors. Their skin is warped around their skinny frame, and all of them are holding one weapon or the other. One body is missing its head.


    Their eyes... I won''t even describe those.


    I grimace.


    "I see."


    On the walls, and floors are dark blotches, evidence of a shoot-out. I''m right next to one.


    He nods at me.


    "A girl in our team said the spatial storage devices are untouched. If we might get them working... we can recover all that is within them."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    My eyes are wide.


    "I''ll get to it. In the meantime, hurry up and get to Lizandra. Watch out for rebellious students."


    He nods and smiles at me.


    "Good luck."


    <hr>


    I frown as I study the destroyed engine of the ship. I''m crouched on the floor, two students¡ªone girl, one guy next to me. The girl has her chest uncomfortably pressed against my arm.


    She''s been trying to and failing to, get in my good graces. I don''t even know why she wants to, but I can''t be bothered with that.


    "We''re screwed." The guy says.


    "Shut up, Layen." The girl hisses at him.


    "No, he''s got a pretty good point," I say. The girl looks at me surprised. "Without the engine, we can''t power up any of the systems of this ship. And making a new one¡ªor fixing this one requires a Fabricator."


    She frowns, and the guy throws an annoyed glance at her. She ignores it.


    "Then what do we do?" She asks.


    "I''m trying to figure that out, myself," I say.


    "How the fuck did the engine get destroyed in the first place?" The guy asks.


    "Sabotage," I say as I point to the bottommost layer of the engine. Covered by dust, but still glinting, is a thumb-sized pink crystal.


    He blinks.


    "Juptenyte?"


    I nod.


    "Formed only when a lot of Trail¡ªwhich just happens to be this ship''s fuel of choice, by the way, fuses. My guess is that someone manually overloaded the engine till it blew up."


    "Jesus. What the fuck happened?" He says, looking slightly disturbed.


    "It''s obvious, isn''t it?" The girl says, completely confident.


    We both turn to her, expectant.


    "It was a spy! And not just any spy, it was one of Fictok''s."


    The guy groans and I just stare at her. Fictok was a terrorist guild eradicated some decades ago, I don''t remember why or how, but I do remember it struck up some big spur. She leans towards me, her nose barely touching mine.


    "You don''t believe me?" She asks, staring into my eyes.


    I put my palm on her face and push her away.


    "Ew." Says a girl standing at the door. The girl in front of me turns and stares at the newcomer, her eyes wide.


    The newcomer is wearing a white top, and a small hat. Her shoes are blue and made up of metal. Her skin is pink, literally so, and her hair is dark blue. She''s sneering.


    The girl in front of me pales. I hold up a hand.


    "If you girls want to chat, go do it elsewhere. I have work to do."


    "And I came here to help you," The newcomer says.


    "As if," The other girl says.


    "I did. I might not be a builder, but I certainly know what she''s up to."


    The girl in front of me looks enraged.


    I frown.


    "If you have something to say, please do it soon. I am quickly running out of patience."


    Girl-in-front-of-me clenches her fist and stares at Newcomer with burning eyes. Newcomer ignores her.


    "Fine," She says, a little displeased. "She wants to get into your pants so that she can talk to Gyon."


    I turn to Girl-in-front. She looks like she''s about to explode.


    "Okay," I say. "No one''s getting into my pants, and even if they did, I doubt they can talk to my Mentor because of it. And then too, they wouldn''t accomplish much." I turn to Newcomer. "Thanks for the warning, though it might have been... unnecessary." I nod at her.


    She smiles and walks away.


    The guy clears his throat.


    "So it''s clear. You''re a slut."


    "What?" The girl screams.


    She punches the guy.


    I sigh and massage my nose bridge.


    I so fucking hate teamwork.


    <hr>

 Clicking

    Team Ferra has met with team Lizandra. Not much progress on finding the other two parts of the ship. Worm circles around vicinity occasionally.


    Ferra pinged me.


    "Huh?" I mutter. The word echoes in the room around me. I''d chosen t work on the issue myself, seeing how useful the two were. I sent them off to scout the ship and catalog everything.


    I frown.


    Engine completely wrecked. Need resources we do not have to fix it. I am pondering on the issue, will report back when I have reached a decision. Continue searching for the ship pieces, and return when team needs a break.


    Affirmative.


    I sigh and look at the engine.


    "How the fuck am I supposed to fix this? I need manufactured parts, and I don''t have a¡ªoh. Oh." My eyes light up.


    I sprint out of the room past students who look at me confusedly, and skid to a stop in front of a large hatch. The hatch is big, bigger than I am.


    I turn to a nearby student and point at him. He startles and looks around.


    "You. Head to engineering, and get me a toolkit. Quick."


    "Uh... I don''t know where engineering is." He says.


    "Lower section of the ship. Quick, go!" I yell.


    He jumps, turns around and runs.


    "The other way!" I yell.


    He turns around and runs again.


    I turn to the hatch again, tracing my fingers over the sides of it. They catch onto a tiny gap in the side. I grin. I highlight that section in my mind.


    "Hey," Grace says, making me jump.


    I turn and glare at her.


    "Where have you been?" I ask.


    She shrugs.


    "Around. So hows the expedition going?"


    I frown slightly as I notice students are staring at me.


    Fine, I think at her.


    "Okay. Why are you standing in front of that hatch?"


    The guy runs back in, panting. He''s holding a large grey cube, with a silver top. He drops it. I nod at him, then pull the box to me. I use my fingernails to leverage out the lid, and I see a variety of old tools. I pick up a small cylindrical tool and pull out a panel on the side. There is a glowing blue crystal inside. I nod and place the panel back on.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    You''ll see, I think at Grace.


    Most students lose their interest and go back to lazing around. The guy is still standing there, but as for what reason, I don''t know.


    I slam the top of the cylindrical tool near the edge of the gap. I watch as the metal strains and finally buckles towards the tool. I twist a ring on the tool, and a warped panel pops off the wall. I throw the tool and panel off to the side.


    Inside is a series of crystal mechanisms. The glows of various crystal fill up my vision, and I have to tinker with a couple settings with my optical implant to see properly.


    The worm is following us. Ferra sends.


    I frown.


    Retreat. And make sure to cover your back as you do. Mask the retreat as a break.


    It takes a few long minutes before I receive a reply.


    We''re returning.


    I let out a breath I hadn''t even known I was holding.


    "What was that about?" Grace asks.


    "Nothing," I say.


    I stare at the circuitry and create a map in my head, puzzling it out. It takes me a couple of minutes to understand what components are what. At that point, all it takes is the removal of a little wire to make the hatch swing open.


    "Oh," Grace says. "So you''re planning on using the pseudo-fabricators to repair the ship?"


    I shake my head.


    "You know the issues with that. I''m just making a couple of components for the engine."


    "Err, who are you talking to?" The guy asks.


    I internally curse.


    "My A.I. I have a habit of speaking my thoughts out loud when I talk to her."


    "You have an A.I?" He asks, puzzled.


    I nod.


    "She''s a gift," I say.


    "Oh. Nice. Ranking?" He asks.


    I stare at him, my lips pressed together. He raises his hands in surrender. I turn back to the open hatch.


    Beyond the hatch is a room with a lot of machinery. The cargo room. In the corner, I see a small fabricator, with a few chutes and panels nearby. There''s also a primitive glass panel system, that has a small layer of dust covering it. Of course, holograms were available back then too, but glass panel systems were used as more of a trend than anything.


    Wait a minute, how do I know that? Did I read it somewhere? I don''t recall doing so, but on the other hand, I have read a lot. Wait, my neural implant can figure it out and...


    Nothing. A quick search gives me no results. Strange. I note the thought down in my head.


    "All of you," I raise my voice. Only a few heads turn, annoying me. "All of you!" I yell, and most heads turn now. "Get down to engineering, and disassemble all drones that you can find. I want every goddamn battery you can find from them, you hear me?" I yell.


    A few hesitantly move towards the end of the corridor.


    "Move!" I yell.


    That gets them going. I take a deep breath.


    We''ve spotted two more worms. So far they haven''t been doing much, but we''ve been getting unnerved.


    "Shit," I curse.


    "What happened?" Grace asks me.


    "Monitor my pings," I say.


    "Hmm... oh. I see." She says.


    Get your combat specialists together and form a plan. And a backup one. They might be running on programmed sequences, or they might be controlled by someone. I''m not sure. You''re on your own till you reach here. Be cautious.


    Lizandra''s already on it.


    Good.


    I walk into the room and go to the mini-fab. I stand in front of it, my hands on my hips, and I study it. It''s in a bad condition, cracks have spread through the metal, and some parts have warped. It should be enough for what I want to do, however.


    I turn to Grace.


    "Can you do your disappearing act, and give me recon on the worms?" I ask her.


    She frowns and nods.


    "I can..." She says, hesitantly.


    "Then good. Go now. Their position is displayed on the hologram projected by the drone. Hurry up."


    She disappears.


    "Looks like I''m not the only person hiding things," I mutter.

 A Silly Error

    How did I figure it out? Not so hard, she hadn''t given me a direct answer earlier when I asked her where she had gone, and better yet, she''s told me little to nothing about her abilities. I hadn''t asked, but it''s a little funny that I have to if I want her to tell me. It''s implied.


    I wipe off the dust from the glass panels. I''m careful, I only let my hands graze over the glass. No need to further screw up things. I then dust off my hands to the side, turning my head away.


    When the cloud of dust dissipates, I continue studying the fabricator.


    Around twenty minutes later, I hear footsteps. I turn around.


    The students hold batteries in their hands, all crystalline and glowing. I see the guy I''d called before at the lead. They look hesitant at what to do with the batteries.


    "Drop them in this chute," I say, patting the metal surface. A loud ''Thung'' sound reverberates through the room. I wince slightly.


    The guy I''d called, he walks to the chute first, and the drops the battery in. The rest take his lead, though a few are lazy enough to simply drop their batteries into the hands of a few.


    I turn to the glass panels expectantly. For a few tense minutes, nothing happens. Most students leave by then. A few still hang around, curious and expecting. Then a symbol appears on the panel.


    A tinge of joy shoots through me. I ignore it and tap the symbol. The mini-fab comes to life, an assortment of symbols appearing on the screen. A few mini lights on the mini-fab glow blue.


    I crack my knuckles and grin.


    I tap a small box icon, and it fades, replaced by a progress bar at twenty-three percent. I tap the progress bar, and it fades to show me a bunch of numbers in different hues. The value I''m searching for is turquoise, that is, how many kilograms of molecular scramble I have available. Currently, I have around sixty-nine kilograms for use.


    Which is... almost how much I''d like there to be. Seventy-five kilograms is what I''m confident to work with, eighty is guaranteed success.


    But I can still work with it. A little tricky, yes, but I can do.


    I pull up the old settings, get used to some of the options, change a couple of things, and then I''m all ready.


    I take a deep breath and focus myself. I use my neural implant to search for all the required data, optimize the quantity, and organize them into little packets. I then connect them to little icons on my visual interface for easy access.


    I then sink my mind into the job.


    <hr><hr>


    A couple hours later, I''m done. And very, very tired. I unsteadily walk away from the fabricator and wipe the sweat off my brow with my sleeve. My chest, armpits, and back feel damp.


    I slowly drop to a sitting position and then slump onto the floor. My breathing is haggard, my vision a little blurry. Side effects of mental exhaustion. Well, mental exhaustion with a neural implant.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    It feels like my thoughts are coming to me slowly. It''s off-putting, somewhat. I ignore that and focus on staying awake. My eyelids are droopy, and it''s very tempting to give in and close them. But I''m slightly afraid that somebody might take it upon themselves to try to fix the engine and screw up disastrously.


    It''s only a slight possibility, but from experience, I know what letting that slight possibility go unhindered can do. I''ve been bitten in the ass more than once, despite the odds.


    But... it was kind of a small possibility, wasn''t it? Besides... maybe I could sleep anyways if I sent out a ping to keep people from touching the components.


    Do not touch the components.


    I send it to anyone within the ship.


    <hr>


    When I awake I feel a lot better. It takes me a little bit of blinking to realize where I am, which is the crew quarters. I''m on a soft bed, a white blanket on top of me. For five minutes I just stay there, letting my mind catch up, and at the same time indulging myself.


    I turn my head and see Grace staring at me with a small smile on her face.


    "Did... did you watch me sleep?" I ask.


    She opens her mouth, and closes it, and then opens it again.


    "No! I mean¡ªuh, yeah but..." She says.


    "But?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.


    "It''s," She clears her throat. "Nothing."


    "Uhuh," I say, with what I imagine to be a dry expression on my face.


    "So, anyway, they''ve returned. And¡ª"


    "Wait, did anyone touch the components?" I say.


    "Nobody touched your precious components. To continue," She says, a little pointedly, "The worms did nothing but circle around them. Well, they''re still circling them, ergo, us, so there''s that."


    It takes a moment for that to sink in. When it does, I jump up.


    "What?" I yell at her.


    She recoils.


    "They''ve... been circling around us for... three hours?"


    I take in a deep breath and pinch my nose bridge.


    "Okay, I''m guessing this is a psychological tactic. That is, they''re trying to scare us. I''m lacking a lot of information..." I stare at her pointedly. She shrugs and looks away. "As to the why. So, they remain to be a very big threat. We could contact the school, considering that this wasn''t part of the excursion, and ask them to pick us back up, but I''m considering leaving that for emergencies. I''m not going to give up just yet." I say.


    She nods.


    A thought pops into my mind. I frown.


    "How helpful have you been?" I ask.


    "What?" She asks, her tone a bit more sharper than I''m used to.


    It catches me off guard a little.


    "How... helpful have you been, for an A.I with your processing power?"


    She doesn''t answer. Or at least, not until I''ve jumped off the bed and started to walk to the door.


    "Little." She says.


    I turn around, raising an eyebrow.


    "And?"


    Her expression gives nothing away. I sigh, turning around. I start walking, and I sense her following after me.


    A simple scan tells me where to go, and how to go there. The path highlighted in my mind. As I walk there, I do note the extra faces around. I make some changes to my body language, to appear as an authoritative figure. It doesn''t exactly make much difference, but I know that some students are probably evaluating me, or re-evaluating me, so in future scenarios having posed myself as an authoritative figure might give my words more weight.


    When I reach the mini-fabricator, Grace speaks up again.


    "They''re broken," she says.


    I was expecting a lot of things, but not that. My eyes widen in horror. I pick up the individual pieces from the shute and stare at them. Each of them has a small layer of blue crystal covering them. And that tells me exactly how I''d messed up, I''d made the second last step the last step.


    "Fuck! Oh fuck this stupid fabricator, fuck this excursion, and fuc¡ªnot fuck you, since that''s weird, but fuck it all!" I yell in plain annoyance, clenching my fists and waving them at the ceiling.


    And immediately after, I feel like a fucking idiot. Because a lot of students were standing at the hatch, some not even bothering to contain their amusement.


    I sigh and slowly facepalm.


    Fuck me.

 Im not dead! (Update)

    Hey y''all. I''m not dead. My laptop was, until today. Graphics card, though, is definitely dead. Anyways, the first month I didn''t post was not because the laptop died, but rather because of school. Did I ever mention I hate school? Yeah, I most definitely hate school.


    I''m actually sick right now. A culmination of having to break my natural sleep cycle because of school, skipping breakfast and dinner a lot, and the cold weather had me call my dad yesterday to get me out of school because of getting a fever. Currently, fever''s gone, but I have very painful cramps kicking in from time to time. Very painful. I also dry heave a bit.


    But, I''m getting better, and I feel good enough to sit down and give you guys an update after being gone for so long. Well, first off, I wanna apologize for disappearing, I know I could''ve logged through my crappy phone and typed this out anytime despite the excruciating slowness of it, but I kept procrastinating on it. Second, I''m kinda unsure of my writing ability right now. It''s not writer''s block, but I just... don''t feel very confident about what I type. So it might be a few more weeks until I post another chapter. Maybe a month. Honestly, with my life being what it is, I can''t even be certain I''ll get a chapter out in a month.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    But, the most important thing is, I won''t drop the story. Well, the pledge certainly plays a big role in that, but I know that is a few of you that genuinely enjoy this story and I don''t want to disappoint you. Heck, I need to finish this story just to show myself I can and thus bolster my confidence for future stories.


    So, I''ll keep on having a go at typing whenever I get the time, and sometime later (Hopefully before pledge time runs out) there should be a chapter. So, yeah. Thanks for reading.

 Req

    The smile on my face was so wide it hurt. And I wanted to smile wider still.


    I''m on top of the world. Everyone is, but I feel like I''m king! No, emperor! What''s bigger than an emperor? Well, whatever it is, I''m that too!


    I hear a cough coming from behind me. "Are you going to stop admiring yourself? If there''s anything you need, then it''s definitely not an ego-boost."


    I turn around, my arms spread wide and stare at a displeased coworker. She has a bruise on her face, I note.


    "Jealous?" I ask.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    She frowns. And looks cute. Very cute.


    "K-23, if you are trying to aggravate me, then I suggest you stop." She says.


    I feel a chill creep up my machinery. Odd. I check my systems and find that all parts are running fine. No, not just fine, excellent.


    I fold my arms.


    "Why are you calling me that? I told you not to call me that. I don''t like it."


    She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She looks like she''s angry¡ªno, frustrated for some reason. A shower of sparks hits the ground behind her, courtesy of a plasma fight above.


    "The company gave us a new mission." She looks troubled. "And you''re leading."


    For a moment, I don''t respond. Then, I feel a massive surge of joy and scream at the stars. Then a screen of blood splashes into me.


    I look up and see one of the men fighting is gone. I look down and-


    Oh. Forgot she has only the one set of clothes.

 Ruit

    Colleague Leandra looks angry. When she gets angry she does things she regrets. Neither of those feelings is good for both me and her.


    And considering I¡¯m leading, I make her not angry. And I should hurry, as her anger becomes more apparent every millisecond that passes.


    Okay. Time to speed up processing.


    I reach in and activate some backup batteries¡ªramping up processing power does not affect the processor as much as it does the batteries. Luckily I¡¯m only using the power for processing, so I¡¯ll have plenty left before my next recharge.


    I check in all the safety protocols, giving each one of them genuine effort. They take time, but I know better than to skip them entirely. Not to mention the company¡¯s tech crew would be less than pleased.


    And in an instant, everything freezes. I¡¯m perceiving reality in the millionth second now. Overkill, I know, but I have the power to spare and I don¡¯t like being pressured.


    And then other systems fire up, all related to sensory inputs. Running at full processing power means I don¡¯t have to worry about information overload. A device at the base of my spine¡ªNon-organic spine, that is, starts pouring weak radiation into the environment.


    At the same time, I¡¯m able to perceive the world in the fourth spatial dimension. There isn¡¯t any fourth dimension object, of course, but if there was, I¡¯d be able to comprehend it. Currently, I¡¯m able to see all sides of every surface that the spectrum of radiation my device is pulsing can reach. A system activates one that identifies and places every object in reach into a short-term memory chip.


    In a high-intensity fight, the extra spatial sense is invaluable. Being able to recognize all technology closeby, or recognize identified objects such as Wortzheig energy eggs within unidentified tech is an ability to die for. And die people did, I recall as the research I did on higher spacial senses comes to mind.


    Currently, the sense is useless as I don¡¯t pick up any cause for concern. I don¡¯t dismiss it, as again, my processor could use some work. Having it work at a mere twelve percent somehow annoys me. And that¡¯s with the time-dilation/whatever the hell you call it.


    I need to be a walking nuclear reactor to support my processor, and the company just doesn¡¯t trust me enough to give me the upgrade. My software is new, and they¡¯re still ironing out a few glitches here and there. I¡¯ve spotted problems mainly in the protocols section, a small cause for concern. Not for me, but for the techies. No doubt they¡¯re still squirming in their labs trying to root out the issue.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I snap back to the present and think about the problem at hand. Colleague Leandrea is angry. Some rumination later and I deduct the blood splash was less the cause and more the kickstarter. This means that there is a major culprit behind her anger, but unfortunately, there are too many things that could match. But then again, it might be a culmination of all those factors. (I.E, Me, Company demotion(?), and other unknowns.)


    I don¡¯t know the roots behind her anger so I won¡¯t be able to directly confront the problem. So that means I need to calm her down and ask her directly, and then come up with a solution and offer it to her.


    I can calm her down by spending some credits on a luxury mind breather and presenting it to her. She (to my dismay) is terrible at noticing her own mental health and other related things, such as emotions that build up and cause rash decisions. This locks her in a cycle of self-detonating, picking up the pieces, make progress, push herself and get results, push herself further and self-detonate again. I¡¯ve only noticed this happened two times, but some investigation into her records proved that it¡¯s a deeply rooted problem.


    The last time she self-detonated was a decade ago, no thanks to my efforts. Of course, the solution is to just make small adjustments over and over again, and those aren¡¯t very obvious. Steering her into conversational topics that no doubt interest her, dragging her along to the event for ¡®selfish¡¯ things, and simply keeping oneself involved is not really noticed. Especially when the recipient is unaware of their own problem, or aware that it hasn¡¯t occurred in a long time.


    I wonder why such things are so effective. Is it because they¡¯re unnoticed?


    I realize I won¡¯t have enough time to get the first word out when I pull out of hyper-processing state.


    Hyper-processing state is accurate but hardly nice to say. Ah, it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll figure out a better name (Or the original one) later.


    Anyways, I should speed over to her, and restrain her from doing anything violent. Even I fear those plasma cannons of hers. Once she¡¯s restrained, I should set up a neural link as fast as possible (Hardly an issue) and give her the equivalent of a mental massage. And a physical massage at the same time.


    I could probably do that with one hand, as she will no longer need restraining. The other hand I can shoot some paralyzing shots to the idiots fighting up above and call in the Sentinels. The company won¡¯t be pleased, but I won¡¯t be pleased either both ways.


    Now that problem¡¯s solved, and I¡¯ve barely used over point six percent of battery,  I can do something else. Like, go back to feeling good again!


    Ah, yes. I finally finished a long-term self-assigned project of mine (I¡¯m keeping it a secret, the company will probably eradicate me if they found out) and it¡¯s a success!


    I¡¯m not a malicious person, but some things just need me to do malicious things. I will probably pay a hundred times over (Of my own will), but not for any moral reasons, but to restore whatever faith people have in Androids in general.


    So yeah. Time to run organic simulations that please the mind. I¡¯m on top of the world!

 Art

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    c


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    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


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    Here''s the old cover.


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    And that''s it! (I drew more, but they''re unrelated.)


    Hope you liked it!


    Hmm. I need to type a bit more before I can post this. Loopy. Boop. Shoot. Brute. Mute. Cute. Flute. Hoot. Boot. Groot. Moot. Truth. Soot. Loot. Root! Hopefully, that''s it. If not, you should see some more random words.


    Edit: Er, links are fixed.

 Update (Yes, this again)

    Long time. This update probably wouldn''t be out today if not for a certain Australian bird.


    First things first. Why I haven''t been posting. The short story, board exams are coming, which is a rather important turning point in my life. The long story? The Zone is something I cherish and aren''t ready to let go, but it loses importance with all the problems I''m facing. One, for instance, is that I don''t want to go to college. It''s not that I don''t want to learn more, but that I think college isn''t the way to do it. The school has been a major waste of my time since day 1. I could rant more and more about this, but I won''t.


    And now my future is uncertain. Certain people disagree with my opinions on college, and that makes my life infinitely harder. I''m still firm on my beliefs, however. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Another thing is that I can''t exactly get the quality I want if the time I spend typing is time after school where I''ll be drained. Originally, this post was supposed to be a chapter, but once I started reading past chapters (I forgot stuff) I felt like erasing every last trace of my writings and never looking back. Ahem. Don''t be worried, I won''t do that. It would eat away at me until all that was left was an empty husk.


    So what will I do? Edit, I guess. Fix prior chapters first. I don''t really want to write a new chapter when the last few make me shudder. To think I was past that...


    But of course, I took the pledge. Which means I have to post a new chapter every month. Which gives me a month''s time to write the next chapter. That''s fine. Don''t expect anything big. Not until Feb, anyways.


    At this point, very few of you guys still read The Zone. Thus if you do, know that your patience will be paid back tenfold in the future. Till next time.