Achlys gripped his head, leaning forward in his chair, barely keeping himself from sobbing. With his enhancements and ‘dishonorable discharge’ from the experiments, no one would hire him. Not even the typical grocery store. Everyone just assumed he had some violent breakdown, which made him a liability, even more than they’d considered Lilis. He slammed his fist on the table, finally letting the tears fall.
He’d once been considered for managerial positions in the Star Iron factory, but now he was jobless, and looking worse every day. He angrily grabbed the half empty bottle of beer on the table, glaring at it hatefully. It was times like this that made his dependency on alcohol make sense to him. It gave him brief moments where he didn’t remember the pain or misery his life had become. Times where his mind and body felt at peace, as if nothing could go wrong. It was the sensation which caused him to become addicted, not some chemical dependency.
He sighed, taking a swallow from the bottle, feeling lost and desperate to return to the certainty he once had about life. Back before they’d had Deimos, when Lilis and Achlys both were on their way to achieving their dreams. Lilis on her way to becoming a world renown doctor, and Achlys starting his own company to supply Star Iron. He groaned, frustrated by his own thoughts. Sure, he adored Deimos and Dawn, but sometimes he wondered what his life would become without them.
Even so, there was another part of him that actively despised the two for existing. For making Lilis’ condition deteriorate. For making him join those blasted experiments. For being leeches.
He shook his head, finishing the rest of the bottle. At least they could survive like this, even if sometimes he didn’t know if he wanted to survive at all.
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“You’re improving a lot.” Orion hummed, glancing over the target he’d set up for Deimos. If he wasn’t sure the kid was brilliant with math, he’d think he was cheating somehow. Every single shot had hit the target. It wasn’t perfect, of course. Perfection would be there only being one bullet hole. Even so, it was clear Deimos had a knack for this. If only his hand to hand skills were so great. “I’m gonna set up a dummy, I want you to do incapacitating shots only.” He instructed.
Jorge rolled his eyes fondly at his husband’s command, watching the two practice. While Orion preferred long distance fighting, Jorge had always preferred getting up close and personal. It came with being a retired boxer. He was a bit jealous that Deimos seemed to prefer Orion’s teaching to his, but he understood. Deimos was strong, thanks to his sheer magical capacity, but he was a wiry boy, not a wall of muscle. If anything, Deimos seemed almost too thin. “Remember what I said about vital points, non-vital points, and incapacitation points.”
“Right.” Deimos nodded, holding the rifle firmly as Orion came back from setting up his new target. “Vital is for death, non-vital is for pain, and incapacitation is… for incapacitation.” He snorted, amused at the wording. “If I want someone dead, vital. If I want someone wounded but able to move, non-vital. If I want them to stay in place, incapacitation.”
“Yep. For this one, let's pretend your target is going to flee after the first shot. Later on, we’ll practice with moving targets.” Jorge sighed, shaking his head. “After that, you’ll be working with me.” He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Deimos grimace. The boy seemed to hate physical exercise, which was expected. Using a gun was easy, fighting with your own body was not.
Deimos took a breath, steadying himself. Orion raised an eyebrow as he noticed something strange. Deimos’ arms seemed to be slightly moving in a quick pattern. He hummed, wondering if Deimos even knew he was doing it.
Five shots came, one after another. Each one hitting the incapacitation points Jorge had taught him about. They weren’t perfect shots, but Orion could tell that Deimos was improving with every attempt. Even Orion didn’t have so much potential when he first started. Still, it was clear Deimos was pointedly avoiding lethal shots, which… was both good and bad. The boy clearly didn’t like hurting people, let alone killing them, but Orion couldn’t help but worry that Deimos would freeze up if he ever had to defend himself with lethal force…
A few more shots later, Orion decided to switch the dummy out to a moving target. Himself.
“Whoa, I don’t think I feel comfortable shooting you.” Deimos grimaced, feeling a bit worried that Orion had lost his marbles.
“Oh relax.” Orion rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I may not be in my prime anymore, but that rifle wouldn’t do much more than irritate my skin, even now. Don’t they teach you about that in school?” He scratched his head. He was fairly sure they taught it to him, but he hadn’t been to school in so many years it was hard to tell.
Deimos flinched. “I mean, yeah. Magic grows with training, and since you’re a soldier…”
“Physical enhancements came naturally from the training, yep.” Jorge huffed. “It’s why this old coot can still give me a run for my money.”
“Old coot! You’re older than me.” Orion waved his fist at Jorge playfully. He turned back to Deimos. “Basically, that is a training rifle. It might hurt a civilian, but soldiers like me tend to be a bit stronger. If that were a railgun, it’d be a different story, but it’s just a blunt slug round.”
Jorge, seeing that Deimos was still hesitant, chuckled. “Alright, tell ya what. Start off with an incapacitation shot. Arm. You’ll see how little it does anything.” Truthfully, if Jorge wasn’t aware of just how durable Orion still was, he might have been worried himself. As it was, Orion could probably tank one of those shots to the eye with little issue. It was hard to find a weapon that could actually harm anyone with decent training. Melee weapons were the best bet, since they directly relied on the user’s strength, but guns… Lasers were somewhat useful, he admitted, but solid rounds tended to either require far too much energy to be useful, or were otherwise limited by their size and durability. Railguns were incredibly powerful, but unless someone found a way to miniaturize them, they were for spaceships, not people.
Deimos gulped, not wanting to harm his mentor, but nodded. Once Orion started moving, Deimos took his shot. Jorge couldn’t help but notice that Deimos had stilled his arms before taking the shot, despite his hesitance. It wasn’t surprising, given how much he’d already seen from the boy, but it was impressive either way.
Jorge saw Orion’s arm move back, the force from the shot more than he’d expected. Jorge whistled appreciatively. “Looks like he was a bit off. Might bruise.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Sorry!” Deimos flinched.
“Easy lad. No harm done.” Jorge shrugged. “Orion’s just a bit overconfident. Probably a good lesson for him to learn, honestly…” He chuckled, noting how Orion seemed to be pouting as he rubbed his arm.
“O-kay! Maybe a bit much.” Orion complained, walking back to the two. “Seriously, I thought I was still in some shape, at least.”
“Round is a shape.” Deimos muttered.
Jorge cackled as Orion did his best to hide his own amusement behind a veneer of irritation. “He’s got you pegged!”
“Oh shush, you.” Orion rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face. “Well done, Deimos. You’re better than I was when I first started, for damn sure.” He shook his head. “Still, it’s a bit late. I suppose we can skip hand to hand practice for today. Go on home and enjoy your day.”
Deimos nodded, still looking a bit ashamed.
“Hey now, none of that.” Orion grinned. “You did damn good. Be proud of what you can do, and what you’ve improved.”
Deimos smiled slightly, though the shame was still easy to read on his face.
Once Deimos left, Jorge turned to Orion, a concerned expression on his face. “Why’d you send him home?”
Orion sighed, plopping down on one of their outside chairs. “Cause that kid scares me.”
“Eh?”
Orion pursed his lips, still rubbing his arm. “He’s better than my fifth deployment.”
“Wait, seriously?” Jorge blinked. He hadn’t met Orion until long after he retired, so he wasn’t sure how that actually went. “How so?”
Orion glanced into the distance, where he’d set up the targets. “I was moving faster than I should have. Wanted to have him something to work towards. He tracked me anyway and predicted where I’d be, factored in the wind, the parabola effect, the recoil, his own heartbeat… Kid’s got crazy potential.”
“If only he had such potential for hand to hand.” Jorge rubbed the back of his head.
Orion shook his head. “Nah, he doesn’t like hurting people. Using a weapon makes it less… personal. That’s all. If he ever gets over that? He might just take your old record from ya.”
“That’ll be the day. He’d have to face Dracine for that, and that girl is scary.” Jorge shivered. “You’d think anyone that young would lose to an adult…”
“That’s magic for ya.” Orion shrugged. “Hell, I’d bet Deimos is stronger than me now. It’s not great, but… well, that’s life. It’s never been fair.”
“That’s true…” Jorge sighed, wrapping his arm around his husband. “Well, I’ll see if I can set up something to inspire him a bit more.”
“Try a weapon.” Orion suggested. “Melee, obviously, but something so he can distance himself a bit.”
“Hm… maybe some knives. I do still remember knife fighting from my mugging days...” Jorge shook his head again. “Damn the Drex Syndicate.”
“They’ll get what’s coming to them eventually. All those gang types do.” Orion assured gently. “For now, we can just train him up. I’ve a feeling he’s gonna need it.”
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Achlys jolted awake as the door opened, blinking wearily as Deimos entered the house. “Hey buddy.”
“Hey dad.” Deimos seemed a bit concerned, if Achlys had to guess. The dozen or so beers on the table probably gave him the wrong impression. “I’m back from Orion and Jorge’s house.”
Achlys grunted, sitting up in his chair. “That’s nice. How’d you do?”
Deimos grimaced, turning away. “I… maybe did a bit too much.”
Achlys tilted his head. He wasn’t sober, he knew, but something about the way Deimos phrased that sounded strange. “Well, as long as no one got hurt.” That was the important bit. Orion and Jorge were wonderful people, so he doubted they’d hurt Deimos in any way. However, he was very aware of how often things could go wrong during training. “What happened?”
After a brief summary of the day from Deimos, Achlys hummed. “Well, it sounds like they’re fine. Sometimes us old folks get a bit arrogant about what we can do. Orion’s probably gonna train himself up again. I’d say you helped them, honestly.” He meant it too. Orion had been on a slight depressive spiral for a while now, with only Jorge there to really help him. If not for this mentorship, he doubted Orion would last another year. Jorge wouldn’t be long after that…
“You’re not that old, dad.” Deimos protested lightly. Achlys couldn’t help but smile at Deimos, rolling his eyes.
“Oh come on, I’m almost four times your age now. I’m positively ancient.” Achlys shook his head.
“Nah! There’s plenty more you can do still!” Deimos beamed up at him, not noticing Achlys’ flinch. “You could go back to school like mom did! Then you wouldn’t have to sit home all the time.”
Achlys’ fist clenched. He knew Deimos didn’t mean anything by it, but… He hated feeling so useless. All day, he’d been trying to escape the thoughts that he was a burden on his family, or that they were a burden on him. He knew that neither was true, but sometimes feelings didn’t care about truth. “Deimos…”
“What? You don’t like this, do you?” Deimos tilted his head innocently. “I don’t think I would, either. It’s too boring.”
Achlys let out a huff of amusement. Of course that was what a kid would be worried about. They didn’t think about how someone who did nothing would feel like a waste of life, a bag of flesh that simply existed, rather than a living person. “It’s not that simple, but no. I don’t like it.”
“Then why not do something?” Deimos prodded.
“It’s not that simple.” Achlys frowned.
“But why not?” Deimos’ expression changed, a look of concern appearing on his face.
“Because I can’t.” Achlys shook his head fiercely. Deimos didn’t know. There was no reason for him to. He hadn’t yet had to face the discrimination people had towards those who left the military, nor the issues that came with publicizing Cores. Deimos was a Light Core. Achlys… well, Earth wasn’t hated, but it was viewed as one of the more loyal Cores. For him to have left the military ‘dishonorably’ made people view him as a traitor at best. Some fanatics might have attacked him, if not for how badly that usually went.
“But you can!” Deimos protested. “Just like mom!”
Achlys’ frown only deepened. Lilis was pursuing her dream. She was damn good at it, too. He… couldn’t. No one would accept him. There was no moving for him. He’d be lucky to get a job as a delivery driver, nevermind any sort of managerial position. No bank would invest in any business run by someone like him. No employees would stick with him, either. He was stuck in this bullshit life, with these damn kids!
The sound of flesh impacting flesh distracted him from his thoughts. He turned to stare at the noise, looking on in horror at Deimos.
Deimos stared up at him in terror, holding his face. “Y-you…”
“Jeroth! I’m so sorry, Deimos, I didn’t mean…” Achlys didn’t get a chance to explain, as Deimos ran straight to his room and locked the door.
Achlys stared at his shaking hands, wondering just what he was becoming.