Despite being in full view of everyone, the soldier’s death went unnoticed until a repeated lack of response. Silence slowly crept through both armies before a momentary truce was called. The beheading was spooky but not an issue. The fact that no one witnessed it in such perfect weather sent chills down the spine. They could only come up with overly burdensome theories.
This revelation started Sikhail GodFiend. A word kept forming on the tip of his tongue, but he was unsure. It was stealth, but so much better than stealth. So as he went off to search for his next target, his eyes twinkled as he thought about Warriors and Magicians.
——|——|—|—|——|——
Sikhail GodFiend was standing in a room in a residential skyscraper. He was waiting for a target in the building opposite his location. The basic functionality of the battle-suit allowed him to zoom in, magnify, and expand pixels with non-existent information.
Earlier, he had traveled a few hundred feet before noticing a sudden change in scenery. When he turned around, the war-scarred battlefield vanished into thin air. This confirmed that the dream was dynamic and reactive. He was here to learn, not have his hand held. He traveled another several hundred feet before a city came into view.
After asking around, he learned about a bounty hunter system set up by the government through its regional security havens. Each security haven had many local branches known as security stations. Security stations were in charge of managing the bounties while security havens apprehended dangerous threats. Citizens who were capable of assisting the police were given rewards. Security havens would often collaborate with local forces for multi-region cases.
The bounty he picked was handled by three security stations with support from the local security haven. An undercover employee had exfiltrated confidential data from a prestigious company with powerful connections to the military successfully. They were suspected of negotiating an extraction with a mole inside the government.
The mission was to find the contact’s name and location so the experts could take down this traitor.
Revealing a small taste of his abilities, he was given top-level access to their entire network. They weren’t convinced that he was better than their top security experts. Nonetheless, they acquiesced.
He looked through the pipeline in developer mode, focusing as hard as possible while the phantom leaned forward. This was the most basic application of a Rogue. Compiling the information from the dossier, the battle-suit located a pattern. The enemy commander was on a deadline, so they set up a parameter that included any references to the target. Fortunately, this meant that data unrelated to their work was inevitably picked up. This was the breadcrumb that he wanted.
This data was transformed into a set of digital footprints through a series of complicated functions. He thanked the company for their cooperation and told them he would investigate the leads he found. They smiled, unconvinced. Even if he gave them proof, it wasn’t tangible proof, which is what they were looking for. He had something else, something better, something only he could understand.
He tracked the footprints to a residential skyscraper bustling with activity. As he canvassed the building for a way up, he noticed many undercover units. He decided upon a more indirect approach after thinking about it. He added a heat signature to the data and turned on his infrared sensors. The footprints lit up like the sun.
His next idea was to teleport into the room, a basic ability for practiced Magicians. He experimented, rented the adjacent room, and continued experimenting until he was familiar with its basic properties. There were additional concerns. What if he didn’t teleport far enough and fell mid-air? Where would he hide? How much noise would he generate?
He was stretching on the opposite side of the room, mentally preparing himself. He focused on the room before him and mentally willed himself to ‘teleport!’ ‘teleport!’. He dashed forward. Right before he smashed into the window, he closed his eyes. The wind that blew on his face had disappeared. The concept of weight had vanished. An intermission of noise that lasted for a second.
He opened his eyes. He was now in another room. The phantom stepped in behind him, slow, no rush. It seemed unconcerned with the world around it.
The room was well organized yet casually messy. When the lock turned, he fumbled and hastily activated a stealth feature. A big burly man walked into the room, huffing and puffing. Taking off his clothes, a woman in shorts and a cardigan appeared from within. The thick shoulders, arms, and legs. The bulging stomach. Puff pads. She looked at them with an annoyed expression before tossing everything away. She touched the military insignia on her chest with pride.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Such weak security. Idiots who can’t even see a clue in front of them unless it humiliates them. Those fellows would’ve had my scent within the first day,” the woman, a female officer, said with a hint of mockery.
Despite how powerful she implied herself to be, she didn’t notice him. Instead, she sat down on a sofa and called someone. Her contact was the target she was stealing data from. He hired her to assess the strength and ability of his employees. Usually, he couldn’t hire someone of her caliber, but she agreed to his request since they were friends from the academy. Ultimately, she tried to convince him to join her, but he deflected.
“Oh? I just got a message. Officers are coming over to investigate. They should be there in a few minutes,” her contact said suddenly.
“Which person is it?” the woman asked with intrigue, but only because someone finally showed some skills.
“Anonymous,” her contact said.
The woman looked around the room with a curious expression.
“I feel that someone exceptional randomly took an interest and found me just now. I’ll call you back later,” the woman said mysteriously, abruptly ending the call.
The woman paced around the room, quite deep in thought, when out of nowhere, she threw a fast kick in Sikhail’s direction. He was startled, gripping his handgun. He restrained himself from firing it in the end.
“I felt the intent. I know you’re there. Even the most advanced stealth systems generate a disturbance. Only a Rogue is truly silent. I’m helpless against those battle-suits,” the woman spoke, well aware that conversation was the only practical weapon.
“You made deductions based on that anonymous report,” the voice said. “You have some capabilities.”
“The training needed to get to my position is intense. Your speaking proved my theory right. You’re just a kid, right? A real veteran knows that silence is the best weapon,” the woman exposed his carelessness.
Her sharp wits only benefited him, and she realized that with time. She tossed a document-filled folder on the ground after recognizing the stalemate.
“You’re looking for this, right? Since an ally stole it to test security standards, with plans to return it, you can have it,” the female officer said with a smile.
It was silent for a while before she heard the sound of a shot. She barely dodged it, but her skin was nicked. When she regained her senses, the folder was gone.
“What a paranoid fellow!” the woman sighed. “Ideally, he would’ve made more mistakes, not less, weird.”
A firm hand had gripped his shoulder right before he stepped forward. An illusory door had appeared, revealing a scene where a young ACE fell victim to duplicitous words. Her superior battle-wits saved her, but she realized it was better to fire a diversion shot before making the exchange, regardless of whether there was voluntary cooperation. There was trust, and then there was a guarantee.
After uploading the information to the local security haven, he traveled several hundred feet until the scenery changed again.
——|——|—|—|——|——
Sikhail GodFiend found himself in an Air Force hangar. The change this time was more abrupt. He was facing the backside of a giant fighter jet. Its under-wing mounted machine guns and the two mini-missile launchers under the cockpit indicated it was meant for battle.
As he tuned in to the conversations around him and greeted the people who came up to say hi, he noticed the pair of overalls covering his battle-suit. There was a wrench in his right hand and some schematics in his left.
“Hey, Paul! Go and check the engines for me, will you? I just made some adjustments,” a voice shouted out.
“Aren’t you going to go check?” another mechanic nudged him when no one responded for a while.
“Oh, right. I was just double-checking something before I head over,” Sikhail nodded, understanding that he was *Paul*.
He went over to the engine and pretended to check it out. Then, he used his wrench to adjust some things.
(BOOM)
Extreme turbulence hit him head-on. His eyes widened in panic, but his battle-suit shielded him from most of the heat.
“Damn!! The socket inside the engine broke. It must be taken out or the engine won’t turn off!!
“You’re crazy right?! It’s 8,500 degrees inside there!!”
“F**k”
“Run… Abort!!!”
(Huffffff)
Sikhail knew this had to be the mission. An attempt to push into the engine was futile. There was too much pressure. As he struggled, making baby steps, he closed his eyes and thought about what defined a Warrior. Muscular, unshakable, determined, endurance, and fearlessness.
“Push, push, push,” Sikhail muttered repeatedly.
At first, the battle-suit struggled to deflect the pressure. As time went on, it deflected more and more. Eventually, he pushed away the stress, taking a step forward, two, four, ten. He reached the engine somehow, found the socket, and removed it. When he turned around, all he saw was himself traveling past the speed of light.
——|——|—|—|——|——
Sikhail GodFiend opened his eyes, squinting as the bright light overtook the darkness. The yells of happiness in the distance brought his attention back to the underground lab.
“I don’t know what happened, but I’m relieved it’s over,” a soldier laughed in victory.
“You were just too weak. Didn’t many of us survive the experiments just fine. Only a few of you were bawling and couldn’t control yourself,” another soldier said bluntly.
The affected soldiers stared angrily at the fellow, promising to teach him a good lesson, but he smiled, shrugging it off. They knew they were weaker than him but weren’t willing to back down. He gestured to them, *how do you think I became this strong. By running away like you weaklings?* infuriated them. Unfortunately, they were helpless before him, and ganging up on an individual wasn’t proper etiquette.
Sikhail had this feeling that the recovery was related to his incident, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He wasn’t supposed to be down here to begin with. As he got up, he remembered something. He looked around the room once more before leaving through a secret entrance.