Ammo… Nuclear
Scenario… Car, Interior, Self-Contained Explosion
Parameter 1… Initialized… Warrior, Destructive Spread
Parameter 2… Initialized… Magician, Area Control
Parameter 3… Initialized… Rogue, Precision
(Beep)
(All conditions are met for 10… 9… 8…. 7… 6…)
(Click)
Sikhail GodFiend pulled the trigger as a laser beam pierced the darkness, undisturbed and unseen. The car door had a tiny gap where the hinge was, small enough for a Rogue to see and for him to slip through. The moon’s reflection disguised the metal as a Warrior’s aura overflowed without discrimination.
(Boom)
From the outside, all was calm and quiet. On the inside, it was like an inferno erupted and was immediately compressed through unknown forces. The target screamed in agony and banged the car. This was a controlled illusion only Magicians were capable of.
Each punch melted flesh as heat ground down the bones. The car was shaking, but only the thunderous roar of the explosion could be heard. The target was waiting for a door that never opened. There were bodyguards outside, yet no one came to the rescue.
Sikhail GodFiend had left the scene after the shot was fired. There was no need to stick around when he knew the results. He didn’t even have to guess that the cause of death would be heat degradation because of a faulty combustion engine.
It was the only conclusion after eliminating all other unlikely causes.
The 8 Minor Paths of Heaven & Earth, the 8MPoH&E, was a fantastic chaos-forged battle armor that had evolved from the original battle-suit the military had given him. It mechanically fused his innate abilities and talent, producing a monstrosity that made him unrivaled on the battlefield.
He was heading back to HQ to embark on a five-star mission. The results of this secret, unauthorized assignment would eventually reveal the secrets he wanted to know. Some butterfly effects took time to ripple.
(Dear Host. Suit integration at 99.99%. Memory immersion is required for the next step. Reinitialization commenced. The period is 3017. The host must experience the entire timeline to proceed.)
The familiar robotic voice that had advised him all these years finally brought good news. He was anticipating the 4 Extremes of Heaven & Earth, which he preferred to call the 4EoH&E.
As for what it did, he would know after the memory sequence. The 8MPoH&E had enough automated capability to take him to his destination, so he wasn’t too worried about discretion or timeliness. so
After he hit proceed on the interface, his present-day memories slowly vanished. Once the two timelines synced, everything would return. He had experience from 3 prior merges, after all. For now, it was all a future event that had not happened yet; therefore, they were incapable of being held onto. An inexplicable sense of sadness surged up from within.
(Boom)
He suddenly slammed his palm against a wall. His teeth clattered as he fought back the tears. Terrifying wails and deafening yells assaulted his mood. His parents were behind him, soothing and consoling him. A gigantic holographic display towered behind them, bold letters spelling out *National High School Rankings*. There was a digital terminal nearby with a card sticking out. On the screen was a name, *Sikhail GodFiend*, beneath a section titled *Standard Rankings*.
“Son… you didn’t make the list, but there are other ways to achieve the same result,” his father reassured him.
“Your father’s correct. You’re as brilliant as a diamond to us,” his mother added.
“You scored well enough. Hundreds of millions of students were affected. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Top 3 in your class and top 10 in your year? You still have fantastic achievements,” his father continued with a smile.
“There’s also top 25 in the school and top 100 in the entire district,” his mother added.
“Yes, yes,” his father nodded enthusiastically.
“But… but… They made the List of Excellence the requirement for non-seniors. If not, the government will,” the boy struggled to say.
“I understand your concerns. I have some information on the matter,” his father replied.
“Oh, what is it Zach?” his mother looked at his father with a bit of hope.
“Information on it is being controlled. Let’s head home before I say anything else, Martha” his father advised.
His mother nodded, using a bit of effort to convince their son to go home. They were home in half an hour. They dressed comfortably, ate until their stomachs were full, and spent time together as a family. After taking their spots in the living room, his father’s demeanor became heavy.
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“The Artificially Intelligent Hyper Suit,” his father said as he pulled out a human-shaped robot from somewhere.
“It looks like it’s meant to be worn,” Sikhail marveled as he poked a foot in.
“Yes. These were the test prototypes. Vastly outdated. Doesn’t matter if it’s stolen, but no one would steal it, to begin with. Current models dominate the market. They’re a product of the Golden Age. Battle-suits, Technology, and the Supernatural Path. All of them are connected,” his father clarified.
Sikhail watched as his father put the battle-suit on.
“Warriors, Magicians, and Rogues. Are you familiar with these MMORPG terms? You see, the military is rather simple-minded and stuck with those names. Other institutions added their own flair, if only just for the sake of doing so. You’ll learn about them at some point,” his father explained.
The battle-suit ran back and forth. The momentum generated light winds that pushed on things, caused a cup to fall and shatter and made a straw spin around.
“As you can see, it’s extremely lightweight but doesn’t disobey the laws of physics. Supposedly, a Rogue has an exceptional understanding of the nuances of human anatomy. They can identify ways to run without resistance. I’m not a Rogue or any of those things, so I can’t do it,” his father commented.
(Ba-BUMP)
(Ba-BUMP)
The first swing to his depression. The adrenaline was flowing. He felt like he was in a movie rather than watching one.
“It’s truly an amazing thing. The production of food. Public education. These things that could be experienced, we created gadgets to automate them. Utility to shine a light on the tools we use for war,” his father said with a sigh.
The battle-suit jumped in place. There was momentum and sound, but it seemed like his father had endless energy.
“The battle-suit eliminates a lot of the stress and pressure one would normally feel by doing the same actions. Despite these advantages, there will always be evil people,” his father said grimly.
His father got out of the battle-suit as Sikhail touched it all over.
“There are people who are greedy and jealous. They let the negativity consume them and have no intention of improving themselves. They all share similar beliefs,” his father said dejectedly.
Sikhail tried to put on the battle-suit with much difficulty. He wasn’t as familiar with it as his father.
“The worse ones are the crazy ones. No grand plans. Just ambitions and a creative mind that translates them into theories. Their ground-breaking ideas are manifested into reality through deep pockets,” his father said absentmindedly.
Sikhail moved the arms with incredible difficulty. There was more resistance than when his father had operated the machine.
“The scientist, the crazed madman known as Joeka. He created something wonderful only for others to use it for ruin. He later became deranged. A lunatic. He rambled on about a parallel world attracted by our stunningly fast advancements. He claimed a mysterious force influenced him into creating Warriors, Magicians, and Rogues,” his father revealed.
Sikhail didn’t have much luck moving the legs either.
“He claimed the battle-suit taps into the very essence of humanity, interprets it, and allows our potential to unfold limitlessly,” his father murmured slowly as he sat back on his chair.
Sikhail heard a laugh as he fell out of the battle-suit somehow. He looked up, only to see his father lightly mocking him through a smile.
“You’ll get your own battle-suit when you head to the military. You’ll also find out everything else with practice and experience. Don’t ask me. I don’t know anything. My contact in the military refuses to tell me as well. We’re college friends but he has his rules,” his father said.
“How is this related to the *List of Excellence*?” Sikhail asked.
“It’s always about funds. Without funds, what can you do? The lack of funds to continue your studies is probably due to the Light Coalition’s exhaustive investment in their own battle-suits. We just didn’t know where they took the funds from,” his father explained.
“Isn’t the Light Coalition the one that protects us?” Sikhail asked with wide eyes.
(Ba-Bump)
(Ba-Bump)
More swings to his depression. The shock forced more adrenaline to be generated and made it faster too.
“Yes. The World Governments, most of them, openly oppose the barbaric experiments conducted by Joeka. Although we acknowledge that the tools he created can be used for good, his ideas increasingly lack moral direction. They often stray into more black than white,” his father carefully spoke.
(Silence)
“If you had the chance to create something besides Warriors, Magicians, and Rogues, would you, father?” Sikhail asked.
“Son. Your father explained that a tool is only a tool regardless of who made it. The intentions are more important. If not these things, something else would be created,” his mother added.
Sikhail nodded. He had a rough understanding of the situation now. In a way, proving himself in the military was similar to conquering tough challenges in an MMORPG. Whether or not he would make it to the end depended upon whether or not he could clear insurmountable challenges. He knew the military was tough; how could it not be?
“Alright. Get some sleep. Your easy days will be over. According to my friend, what he could tell me was that the military is like hell. Your bones, your muscles, and your entire body will ache day after day. No rest, no food, no water until it’s allowed. You’ll practically be begging for mercy before long. I don’t say this to scare you or anything. It’s better to be mentally prepared ahead of time. Let it sink in, so you aren’t shell-shocked and stumbling around,” his father said in a more lighthearted tone.
“Father! You’re so mean. You talked about the light stuff so seriously and the heavy stuff so lightly. You think my bones will withstand all that?” Sikhail complained, crossing his arms.
(Laughter)
“Mother! Not you as well,” Sikhail cried.
“Mean? You cheeky brat. Didn’t I warn you ahead of time? Isn’t that being nice? My friend didn’t have to tell me this, and I didn’t have to tell you either. I could’ve kept you in the dark,” his father humphed, unsatisfied with Sikhail’s reaction.
“You said it in quite a terrifying way. If I didn’t fight a lot of difficult bosses, do you think I would be used to such an idea?” Sikhail refuted.
(haha)
“What Sikhail said is true dear,” his mother replied in defense.
“Alright, enough. You two know I’m a businessman. I deal with the blunt truth. I don’t care for sugarcoating things. Look for your teacher if you want sweet words to hide under,” his father said in critique.
“I’m just joking, father,” Sikhail said while sticking his tongue out.
“Regardless of what happens, what do you plan to do? I’m hoping you can become a Warrior, Magician, or Rogue,” his father asked.
“All 3?” Sikhail said confidently.
(Roars of laughter paralyzed him for a few seconds)
“Stupid kid. Do you think you are some kind of god? Do you know how rare they are at all? What do you mean by all 3? Before that, put on a good performance so you can get back to University,” his father scoffed.