Stereo Part 1: The Preamble

“Legends are known for their extraordinary abilities but the most influential Champions have an especially marvelous trait, to unite or divide people, civilizations, and societies” - Aaron Truth of our Species: Champions

Chapter 1: House Arrest

In the earlier years of my life, I would’ve considered being a Champion, but who was I kidding? It was just a dream shared amongst most of the youth here at Merris. We had everything we could ever want on this connected planet, right? There was no corrupt government, even police officers were treated like your everyday neighbor. Nobody had died due to starvation in half a decade. So why did so many civilians living in this perfect world, including me, feel so empty? Not even bored, just empty. So emotionless. But why, In this “perfect” world? I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to admit it. Yet, I felt like I had to do something. I decided I was going to do something extraordinary today. I looked out of my window and observed what I indeed saw, a world with people who pretended it was perfect. Just because century-old problems were now fixed didn’t mean all relevant problems were fixed. The yellow sky was beautiful but it could be better, just like this world. I was determined to become more significant than anything I’d ever done before. I looked at my front door’s lock with a message displaying a Telemessage. 

“Adam Aero - CURRENTLY UNDER HOUSE ARREST FOR: 2 HOURS.” In two hours, I had a chance to start a new life. I spent ten minutes planning what I would do on March 19, 14203 8:00 A.M Western Time. After seven months of house arrest, I learned to be grateful for the freedom and beauty of the outside world. The Cocolite trees, for example. They had mint-green leaves with such flavor inside of each one that a person who ate one of these leaves could not only feel like one of the thirteen Original Gods but truly be enhanced to the point of being a superhuman. I had stored an abundance of Cocolite leaves to eat every breakfast for nutritional value. My plate every morning for seven months consisted of mint-green leaves, a crispy Hash Brown, and twenty fluid ounces of Moltagen. 

Such a meal would cause suspicion as it seemed almost too nutritional and healthy, but since I was under house arrest, no one had seen me eat the same thing every single day. Oh yeah, I should recognize why I was under house arrest, I had almost forgotten when living out the worst seven months of my life. I tried not to think about it too much, I wanted to enjoy the end of my “Cocolite Leaves, Hashbrown, Moltagen” streak. Every bite I took from the meal, made me feel like I was being freed from heavy chains, one by one. The meal lasted less than eight minutes. Usually, I would eat breakfast and savor each bite for a couple of minutes before swallowing it whole, but this meal felt less special. It was not the fact I had gotten worse at cooking, it was a sign of me marking a new point in my life.

 Now, I had what I always wanted, motivation and a goal to complete. I had ninety more minutes for me to truly begin my life. I returned to my bedroom, the fifty feet by fifty feet room looked pathetic compared to the Neuro rooms I’d observed while staring out of the window. Luckily, the Nitro Observatory Tank 3.1 allowed me to see the city of Alon easily. How ironic, a nation formed under double-layered betrayals with a location near many great regions. To think such a simple colony would have such, complex origins was quite the riddle for me. Thinking again, a simple-minded individual could tell why, the complicated technology of the Iron Star City.

Using Oxygen as a starting point, scientists could engineer many great and powerful automated machines here. So many choices I wondered, Electrons or Neutrons? To create something greater than you are for a living, was normal for others, yet it seemed so far out of reach for me. So far out of reach, until sixty more minutes. To me, it just adds to the motivation for change. Yet, I wasn’t as excited for those sixty minutes to pass as I expected yesterday. Maybe because I forgot my set of crimes before my consequences, that was how I finally convinced myself to return to my office room. I always had a habit of going back here once in a while. I’ve been traversing from my bedroom to my office room for so long, I could count how many steps it took. That was how I knew I was off the deep end. My office always looked the same and I didn’t know why. My Ranger Green chair had always stayed the same color during the two years I lived here. Now I was shocked, two whole years of my life wasted. In this world, I only had two hundred years to live and I’ve already wasted two of them. I slowly realized I hadn’t done anything that would’ve made anyone want to remember my name. Despite all of my skills, I don’t even know a time in my life when I used them to their fullest potential. That was what I had been missing all my life. Potential. Anything could be made useless if it wasn’t used to its fullest potential.

 With only fifty minutes left until I was free, I went to my gym. In this place, Alon’s advanced technology truly shined. The fine programming of Mason Atwire allowed Alon citizens to accomplish their daily goals without spending a ludicrous amount of money. For one thin $1,000 bill, anyone could purchase an extremely complex and convoluted piece of technology. One that had the potential to turn someone into a superhuman. Yet the normal residents of this city believed they could achieve that goal using straightforward tasks. These “normies” would spend about one or two hours every day and get surprised when they don’t look like Atynger Proc. Man, I’ve never thought of that legendary name in a long time. He was a fragment of my extended childhood. I was also prohibited from using modern technology, so I was forced to create my entertainment which included a last-century programming kit. The amount of enjoyment that such a simple box could produce was fascinating to me.

 I spent several hours each day on the kit, it felt like it was made to appeal to people like me. Each part of the technology was able to be modified, every strand of the wire had a different function, and for someone who knew every single programming language, this felt like heaven. In time, I was able to manipulate a few technological parts into anything I wanted. In time, I became a more skilled individual than any form of education could make. In time, I believed I was superhuman. In time, I deserved to be named after Sonato Aero, the Great Champion of Wind. Yet I never lost touch with my sanity. I remembered I was just like anyone else, with some modifications. Well, steroid-like modifications could permanently enhance your body, but still far from evolution.

 In this society, no one believed they could be a leader. And I had to admit, I didn’t want to become a leader either. In time someone had to be one. At that very moment, a text was alerted from my calculator. I was so bored, I created nicknames for just about everything. Old technology was called calculators, and Moltariageniousyveria>3V21 was just called Moltagen, just to name a few. Turning it on, I had to admit, the technology was fast, even if it was extremely outdated in its features. Such as having only 8 pre-built “Creation” languages. At that time, I was blasted with a loud sound. You may not believe me on this, but a Pink bunny appeared on my tiny screen, screaming and repeating “TEXT MESSAGE” over and over again. In all of my years of living, essential or not, I never expected an event like this to ever happen. I didn’t have time to process what the voice sounded like, as it was the loudest thing I’d ever heard in my life. Mind you, I trained with several rocket-powered jets with highly trained generals. This calculator showed signs of sound that I expected to work with during my five years at Anarchy Academy III. I had expected the sound to come from something like an atomic weapon. Yet this calculator was deafening me, a common prank among Alon’s citizens. I did the only thing I thought to do at that time, grab a molten whip and slash it until it was destroyed. The damage was massive, the tiny phone charred instantly and nothing remained, except for me. I’ve noticed that every day I’ve been on house arrest, there’s always something new to encounter, and today, it was an ear-shattering Pink Bunny sprite in a tiny calculator-based phone. I vowed never to enter that room so casually again after the incident. With 40 minutes until the lock on my front door was removed, I felt ready to face the outside world again. I was dressed in a regular outfit, an anti-gravity enhanced cap, with a knife White shirt concealed by an oversized gray colored jacket, finished with Blue pants and NeuroTech Runners, limited edition Ranger style. I had all the equipment I needed, a fancy golden short sword, an extra contact lens, and a Chaos sensor, also made by NeuroTech.

 Of course, all of these were just the things I carried inside my bag, so I added the most important thing in my pocket, a water bottle. I waited desperately to get out of this house for the first time in seven whole months. As I waited, the act of entertaining myself with the Television became much more attractive to me. So I let the intrusive thoughts win. I’d amended to gather new information every single day since I’d been imprisoned in my own home. So there I was, an average person learning about a world much larger than I could ever be when I heard the news. The morning segment was already halfway through, I only heard the second half of the set, but I remember one story. In fact, it was the first one. “-Another threat is being issued to Predakore.” Said a familiar-sounding voice. I recognized that name, it was the title of the infamous Predator planet. I also recognized the person who said it. Regan Rogue, the iconic voice of gossip, and a fine businessman. The screen also suddenly chased. It cut to a scene of a Sykokin, one of Predakore’s most famous apex predators. It was a 4 armed monstrosity. Entirely black and menacing in their pose, these animals stood tall at 6 feet at an average height.

Only the most skilled of Merricans could tackle the Sykokin without fear. I used to be one of them once, and in a way, I still am. “The Sykokin had decided to invade on their own, angering both the Predaktors and the Seneider.” Such an exciting move by the Sykokin I thought. Seneider were easily one of the most dangerous organisms that had ever inhabited the known universe and here they were defying their orders even though they had a contract bound by law and class. “If I ever decide to fight anyone, I should kill the Sykokin first,” I said quietly. 

That was the end of that short story. I was so addicted to the information, I ended up spending twenty minutes of my day learning it. I had only twenty more minutes until I could invoke the 30th Amendment. I was almost crying tears of joy. I decided to do one last guilty pleasure before the charge ended. I descended to the underground floor of a four-story house. This was where I truly shined my skills. The soothing air and smell of oxygen felt so soft on my hard life. They faded into existence from thin air, or in this case, thin pixels. Black masked soldiers with hard oversized jackets with menacing looks in their eyes approached me. They wanted a fistfight and I gave it to them. Precisely nine of them were there. This was the sport that kept me alive for all those months. The rules were simple in Arena V.  Just slaughter all those who oppose you.

 The room was large, yet very tight to fight in. In other words, the arena of the Arena was like a thin hallway. These objects were modeled after the Marauders, leaders of the Terrons, more commonly known as the Requiem Soldiers who created the Sykokin. They came at me one by one, typical for the ancient Terrons. The first one came up and he didn’t bow before trying to punch me. Of course, as a skilled Requeons (The official nickname of Requiem Soldiers on Merris.) I dodged his first attack. Admittedly, these Terrons were more substantial than usual, or maybe I was rusty for 24 hours without doing anything genuinely resourceful. I was in a regular fighting stance, left foot in front, with both of my hands in an automatic blocking position. I could tell these Terrons felt truly powerful in their bodies. A single blow was enough to take one of these soldiers out. Evading was a critical concept that I didn’t practice too often. I kept evading every one of the current Requeon’s moves until he messed up. This part was where I excelled in physical combat. I eventually got bored of dodging all of the attacks thrown by the Terron and just knocked him out with a single punch to the nose. I couldn’t lose focus yet, I had 8 more remaining.

 I eventually finished all of the other Terrons and only suffered a right uppercut to the artery. It was only the 6th enemy, and I only made one mistake. It was taking the wrong step and losing balance, after that though, I was able to annihilate everyone else with few troubles. It was an above-average performance, considering that the Terrons were easily the most feared Requeons in the current solar system, but it didn’t feel good enough for me. If I was going to live until the average age of a regular human as a Requeon, I was going to be more skilled to survive in this galaxy. By the end of my training exercise, I was drenched in sweat. There was enough to consider me soaked. I was easily able to get rid of all of it in a matter of seconds by using a metallic enhancer. The one I was using could erase all signs of dirt and grime on a single organism at once. I used my elevator to get back to ground level. The short ride still felt comfortable when you’ve been exercising for 15 minutes.

 There was still one last thing I needed to do before exiting my house. A habit that I had recently picked up. It was the art of meditating. The most excellent exercise I had ever done, in my opinion. The process was so simple yet it yielded the most remarkable results for one’s mind. With time, I honed my skills by only meditating and enhancing my strength and speed with physical exercises. Combining these two exercises made me feel more powerful than I’ve ever felt before. The visions I could see were endless, however, the amount I could comprehend was limited. I could sit and meditate for half a day and still feel immensely focused. I looked at the door and noticed something I hadn’t noticed before about it. The door was shining. This was the process of removing a house arrest lock I thought. I breathed deeply and felt calmer than a wave in an ocean of fresh water. I closed my eyes, opened the door, and took the first step outside. I opened my eyes and felt genuinely free, devout of fear and emptiness. I was now an official citizen of Alon.

“The Crownomancer was merely a messenger.” - Astroid Truths & Half-Truths

Chapter 2: Bartos Field

Cackle was a fantastic unit. He was not only a formidable weapon but an amazing friend. Currently, he was poached above his house. It was simply flat with a few messy colors covered on it. He was intelligent as well. Smart bird. His soaring reflexes helped him survive the location of Materos. Enough playtime. He thought Cackle. He maneuvered his way down to the window. The exterior of the small building was surrounded by tight rocks and sand. The other buildings didn’t look much better either. Even the entire plain was in awful condition due to the Sykokin outbreak. The sky was the brightest shade of red on this day. Even one of Mactera’s four moons looked red. A strange rock-like figure was approaching this planet. Cackle thought it best to ignore the slight disturbance. After a few attempts, the tiny hunter was able to sneak his way into the house, only slightly larger than him. Inside, he found nothing. Of course, any sane Barbarian could guess where this was going. He searched for a small object. Something round, small, and powerful.

 Something like an Abyss Orb. It wasn’t hard for him to find it, the orb was located on a small wooden table. He flapped his massive wings to get to the delicate artifact. It would be interesting to sell an orb like this to the local pawn artist. Cackle grasped the small object in his claws and carried it to a slot, there a mysterious elevator appeared out of nowhere. The mutated animal scratched the paint to reveal the lift and pressed the appropriate button to go to the underground floor. He stepped into the giant elevator and waited patiently to arrive at his destination. There he met some Martian strangers. There were ten people in the room in total. Before soaring out of the lift, he counted the strangers and familiars among them.

 After a few seconds, he concluded that three of them were people he knew prior, and the rest were outsiders. Even though there were a ton of people in the room, he knew exactly who to talk to first. The red-eyed male with long dark red hair was the one who had some explaining to do. Cackle was quick to get to him, all he had to do was navigate the area with the nine other people, avoiding them. The area the devious person was in was tiny. A small bedroom without a bed. Cackle flapped his wings to get the attention of the masked individual. Both of them were equally angry at each other. Though he was masked, anyone could identify the emotion of Axaus at that particular moment. He was the type of person who could incite dread in anyone’s eyes just by staring at them. Yet, Cackle wasn’t afraid of him one bit.

 “I believe I know why you’re here, friend,” said Axaus, in a despicable, low voice. 

“I’m not playing games,” Cackle replied. Somehow, his response was more severe and flat than Axaus’. 

“I’ll give you a response when you’ve given me your report on your assassination attempt.”

 “That doesn’t matter right now, why are all of these people occupied in this particular house?”

“This house you are referring to is mine!”

Cackle almost rolled his eyes at this response. He stared at this traitor like he was a prisoner of his mind. He would eliminate his member if the Great Gatrous didn’t appear. The two of them were able to feel his aura from a Mautic mile away. He descended from the main elevator, with a stained Asteroid rod. His aqua-blue hair only overshadowed his left eyepatch. The fear he could produce was in itself, terrifying. The Shadow Master was great at masking anything about his true personality. The scariest thing about him wasn’t his skill or his knowledge, instead, it was his age that scared Cackle and Axaus the most. At his tender age, Wonder “Ferret” Gatrous knew how to wield knowledge and power much more capable of him. “Now, it’s not efficient to fight over absurd reasons, you two.” His voice had a slight British accent, as he commanded his fellow accomplices to quit the debate they were having. The two apprentices had decent enough critical thinking skills that they respected Ferret.

 The young heir had a nickname for his nickname. There was only one person in this colony who knew his real name. Cackle and Execute (A nickname given by Ferret to Axaus) decided to kneel in front of their superior’s presence. Ferret wouldn’t be a suitable name for an heir to the Bartos Legion, so many outsiders speculated on the prodigy’s unique cover. Truth is, like a wild animal, a Barbarian needed nutrition or physical strength to prosper, yet Ferret only needed good nutrition, at the end of the day, all Barbarians were carnivores. He had strayed away from other leaders of his clan, he didn’t rely on pure strength to get the job done. Many of his classes included skills such as evading and dodging instead of regular Bartos classes like invading and hogging resources. Of course, skills were useless without the person using them to their potential. That was the source of the Skolock Clan. Ferret already knew it was easy to do one slash one hundred times but it was truly impressive to do one hundred slashes at once. Ferret looked at both of his companions with a pondering look.

 “Why not resolve both of your problems by attacking thy capital of Alyta?” Marterra. The neighboring planet of Merris. A raid from a Ryouko planet would be obvious, but his group knew a raid would be too apparent. At that very moment, the three of them immediately thought of a devious yet respectful plan. The prodigy would execute a way to eliminate all of his enemies, with as few casualties as possible. They knew better than to discuss something with a crowd of potential spies potentially listening to them. The trio had known each other for long enough that they could tell when one of them had an insight. “We will leave this topic for another moment, Fifth God Representative,” whispered Ferret.

“Understood.”

“And so it begins.”

No one would expect what team Reorder would do. The remains of a fragile kingdom will be returned to its glory. The God Tamers will be reunited. The Reunion will happen. Justice will be arranged. Cackle thought to himself how risky this proposal could go. Execute grinned without a smile on his face. The three of them, each agreed to talk about this discussion at a later time. The guests at the safehouse only grew quieter, foreshadowing how this plan of Reorder would work. Hopefully, God Gatrous will receive the information soon. Execute reminded where everyone would be in the following day. “Now, I will avenge you, friends.” Ferret thought, without a grain of emotion on his face, neither happy nor sad. For the first time in their lives, Reorder was able to be free. That was the harsh reality Merris was about to face. This was how Bartos would have its justice, and order would be restored. Reordered. Ferret returned to the Core elevator, elevating to the 25th floor. He had a very serious expression on his face. The others in the safe house were visibly terrified by the recent Sykokin attack. Cackle was going to leave for some personal business, of course, this meant Execute also had to go.

The head is the most crucial body part, according to the Bartorin Accords, so Cackle’s bird-like form quickly changed and transformed. His eyes turned inside out, revealing minimal flesh, hair spreading out, and jaw extending and retracting. Execute stared at the wholly contrasted organism, it was no longer a mere animal, it was now a part of him. Execute picked up what was an original creation, and put it over his remaining body. The long red strings of connection were able to attach Cackle to Execute, which was no longer two people, just the Eackle.

“Name something, a god created it, and the creations named it. A pattern is starting to form.” - Machama The Recreation Accords

Chapter 3: Moltassa

“They’re attempting to jack the main crafter!” One warrior screeched as he was running from a grimacing Alyte. He was on a massive Gyrocrafter. He didn’t look back once during his escape, he didn’t even know what the raiders looked like. They were the most fierce Alon Champions, and the most menacing. No one was able to become this skilled unless they were motivated by an alternative desire. The captain, who called himself Annexer, would not give up until the ship was destroyed. Many Champions had scary traits about them, such as the Sykokin with their perfect figure for destruction, or the Predaktors with their mind-controlling abilities, but the most feared component about the Alytes was the fact that they showed absolutely no remorse to anyone. Sentarka had absolute dread in his eyes. The constant flashing alarm had only caused more stress. The Alytes had already won. This should’ve been highly agonizing to Sen, yet he finally felt liberated. That means he could press the stereotypical big red button, so he did. One of the smirking Alytes stepped directly into Sen’s trap. The cruel figure was a giant, with a white body amour, a blue mask, and blonde hair, standing at six feet tall. It was like a game of Predator and Prey to this animal. “Anex is justice, Anex is freedom.” The troublesome fiend groaned. 

“You are all of what remains of Project Reign.” Sen hadn’t heard that word in a while, the Redyrn word for “improvement.” No doubt the Champion was just bluffing to invoke fear in the inner cell. Sorry buddy, but I already developed immunity in my eighteen years of living. I don’t want to play useless exercises with this fool anymore. I pressed the large red button and let chaos release. The Alyte who called himself Mr. Ray yelled furiously. Never had I felt so much internal joy in my miserable life. I didn’t even know what the button did, so I checked. Sykokin Scouts. That was what the button released. Instantly, Ray was ambushed by the tiny aggressors. The four armed micros stormed and jumped the Champion swiftly. At last, Sen was able to relax for a whole sixty seconds. During that time Ray wasn’t so lucky.

Captain Raptors swore he saw a sizeable eagle-like figure above him but also thought that was impossible since he was literally in space. Taking a mental note of the airborne animal, he hypothesized it came from Bartos Plain. It wasn’t crucial to the main objective though, so Raptors scouted the perimeter thoroughly. After a few minutes, the ship only had a single enemy onboard. His name was Ziken. Sooner or later, this nuisance would be caught, however, Ziken wouldn’t go down alone. He was the one responsible for the sudden Sykokin attack and now the cause for the distraction of scouts. What could’ve one accomplished by angering a planet, field, and military? Whatever their plan was, it wasn’t going to be anything the captain would approve of. This was a truly dire situation to be in for all parties involved. The stars were getting closer to the spacecraft’s location. It was painfully obvious to the Alytes that this last victim was just stalling to save his life, to no avail. The last part was the one the captain was wrong about. 

Raptors were so bored of the waiting game, he had sitten down on a metallic chair, made sure it wasn’t a living animal, and read a book. With his legs crossed, he licked his fingers and touched the cover page. The fine text was called “Aeroes: A Lesson in Mortality” The novel was written by Benjamin Aero, the previous captain of the Alytes. In the middle of the chaos, Terry Raptors plugged in his famous hearing orbs and meditated. The novel had a Bold Oswald font. The chilly aroma of the room had relaxed him to the full extent. Each gold paper page is illuminated under the blue lights on the metallic ship, signifying the -23R temperature. After flipping through a few thin pages, the masterful tactician finally read the first chapter peacefully. Giant bold letters took up most of the space on the first page, which read Chapter 0:1 In an italic font. the first line of the novel reads, The Aero hereby accepts the vessel through the Arena on the remaining space on the soft page. The back cover of the book was right, the captain was immediately immersed in the book. It made reading even the copyright page worth it. Raptors kept his mind focused on the simple object. When a few minutes passed though, he got a message from his Milock device.

It was a simple device. Curved at the top and bottom, the O.M.A. tech “Subbard” unintentionally looked like an eye. Subbardybern was the origin of the name, Subbard. The word meant “useful” in the Redyrn language. The thought engulfed the humble captain, like many other topics. He decided to open the Subbard out of its steel case, square-shaped. It was about the size of the Aero book he was reading a second ago. He thrust his metal boots and leggings off, metallic gray colored. Now standing, the titan-sized man was gazing at his Subbard. The tactical captain threw his Milock M.A.D. onto the crystalized floor. After a few seconds, the government-issued device rose above the stained floor and began informing Raptors of vital news. Thin, Aqua-colored lines suddenly began connecting, until they resembled a Gyrocrafter. An intrigued Champion stared interestingly at the structure. It was slightly different from the previous crafters he had seen. He hadn’t read any of the news dialogues as he was only pondering about the space body. He continued researching the operating system. There, he concluded his interest with a hypothesis.

Meridian got his brother’s message. Then, the black-clad warrior arose from where he kneeled. An illusion planet. Moltagen planet. Moltassa. He had difficulty standing after meditating for a whole century. Like the companions aside from him, he was rebooted. A streak of blue stripes glowed on his legs. Then, his body, until he was glowing from the head down to his soles, and into his soul. The glint in his eyes was menacing. Unlike the other glowing parts of his body, Meridian Munkin’s hollow, circular eyes filled with a yellow substance. The mutant decided to release all of his Moltagen into the warm dust of the planet. Yellow gas spread into the tight atmosphere. On the other foot, Meridian was kneeling on raised. Now, the Terrons were ready for hand-to-hand combat. A Terron Lord was now shaking, and it wasn’t because of the intensity of war. The only thing more strange than the sight of the Terron Vengers was the constant explosions on the illusionary planet. Clouds of sand and gravel corrupted the sky in small intervals, in the form of pellets. A normal Martian wouldn’t be able to understand the life cycle of a Sykokin Scout. The dripping black tight formula struggled on the delicate sand of this world. The slimy worms formed with each other, climbing on the backs of the Lords and forming an oily backpack. Within the rectangle-shaped figure, a Sykokin Scout could be seen. Within the eyes of a Terron, a future Champion was being created, hundreds of them every minute.

As the dark figures rose, they started standing. After that, they all coordinated with each other for each step to the Battle Stations. Two steps each second, each “hero.” There were forty battalions and over two-thousand mask-clad soldiers. Meridian looked upwards-God Champion-Daito. The conqueror of thy planet.

“Ready at once.” Exclaimed a slim figure, communicating to thy God Champion. The familiar Terron had offered the messiah of the Prime Planet on the elevated surface, followed by a set of steel-white stairs. Cold and white, just like the rest of the platform holding two-thousand two Terrons. Moltassa, the sturdy home of the God-Champion and Terrons was drifting in the middle of the small galaxy. Continuously spinning in endless revolutions. The thick, tall Moltagen Metal stabbing the planet only made it shinier to the outside world. Moltagen always looked different depending on the form it was in. In its solid state, the element was metallic and it radiated a dark blue color. However, in its unmodded state, the gaseous chemical sprayed a sand-like color. Dozens of Terron Mavericks lined up in 12x24 formations on the mile-long and wide steel surface. Each column of the MV1 androids had Syk0kin captains, dropping red, slimy badges next to the individual Terrons. The moment the insignias were dropped on the Moltagen floor, a charge of radiant Terron energy pierced the ground.

 The ethereal light took over the androids’ pupils and caused the most significant pledge of allegiance in the known universe. “Hrrym mybuaut, beuraut hyaut cayolimon, jaloh halluhn, qasu camu samuk nauru shao hutbuou,” the first verse began, sung by every Terron, including the Sykokins. Such a tune could only be appreciated by true Moltassa believers. The Mavericks stopped abruptly after the first verse, mentally preparing for the second one. The throats of the Terrons reigned on the gas planet. The deep and disturbing roar of Sykokins, the squeals of the scouts, and the elegant and poetic voices of the Maverick androids composed a mighty choir. During the first verse, a swarm of Milock Subbards entered the planet’s atmosphere. The Uranus-modeled flying machines were coated blue every time they approached Moltassa’s barrier. Previously, the Agoncopters should’ve been the colors of a tiger and the pattern of a Zebra. The increasing amount of ACopters reminded Meridian of the Eight Planetarium War. Dozens upon dozens of flying weapons invading dry planets. It was all tasteless really. 

The constant rotating blades circling aside the spheric body of the ‘copter got louder as they surrounded the perimeter behind the Terron home world. This only meant one thing, Barbarians. The mercenaries from the flat planet in the western section of the galaxy.

Of course, the Silver Schemer expected this arrival, due to his airborne friend. The planet was now surrounded by the azure ‘copters. The androids didn’t know how fast the ‘copters were arriving or descending, but if anyone knew, it would be Cade Deggrin. His face was already concentrated on the Subbards approaching the God Champion’s platform. The blonde knight’s emotionless mask followed a particularly large ‘copter descending right on his platform. As the Subbard gradually approached his battalion, Cade entangled the flying nuisance with a Sykokin arm and dragged it down. The black skeleton attached itself to the ‘copter perfectly. The clinging arm belonging to Deggrin immediately destroyed the Milock and the two barbarians in it. To the surprise of no one, chaos ensues.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“To understand a species without learning to identify their traits is like constructing a Milock Subbard without being a programmer.” - Generator A Lesson in Mortality

Chapter 4: Annextator

To think that the cause of the Intergalactic War was a blonde Canadian android in control of a Sykokin arm was a bewildering thought. However, Meridian must not believe anything. The process of thought would kill him. Snapping awake, the last thing he heard was the sound of a general ordering his greatest creations to charge. However, this didn’t mean death for the android. Meridian looked upwards, to the broken Sykokin arm and totaled ‘copter. Slightly to the right, where his eyes followed, the champion gazed upon an unsettling sight. Where the God-Champion once stood, there was nothing but an empty, metallic platform, hosting no one. Moltassa. A planet without a leader. The Terrons had made official enemies with the dreaded Bartons. There was no time to think, only to act, and the Terrons did just that. The robe-wearing mages acted first. The Magerons were located at the highest square-shaped plane on the gas planet. The long cylinder-shaped bars below the casters’ battalion platform were doing their work until the ‘copter destroyed it. 

The mages immediately cast an elevation spell to recover to a lower platform. As they fell gracefully on the lower battalion stations, the mages raised their fists in a focused stance. Meridian sheathed his weapon, which was visible during the ceremony for the Sykokin battalion’s calling card. He knew exactly what he had to do, and what he wanted to do. He considered his options for only just a moment. That moment was too long for the Barbarians to wait. A buzzing sound descended upon the MV1 Android, and a massive, green Arc Axe with it. Greeting him, a marksman named Amarxman. As the axe pierced the ground, Moltagen blasted from the ground, covering the unsuspecting Barbarian in processed, bright green liquid. What a waste of perfectly good Moltagen. Now, this was a valid reason to cause chaos and anarchy. To the surprise of another marksman, Amarxman and his rocket-powered backpack, took a few instinctive steps back due to the Moltagen. The android didn’t realize it at first, but this was not a Barbarian. This Champion looked like he hailed from the Alyte faction. The commoner looked like a captain. This was no ordinary Alyte, this was Captain Raptors.

Change of plan That was Meridian’s first thought. Instead of traversing to the Terron Temple, he would slaughter Raptors and bring his blade to the temple. Where he shall be declared the next God Champion. All with the help of a Desert Karambit. It wouldn’t be easy, however, justice would be swiftly deserved if Meridian had power. With his head back in the game, he slowly jogged towards Raptors. The Emerald colored jetpack strapped on the Alyte Captain’s back didn’t help with Meridian’s anxiety. As the Neon green and blue flashing Champion rushed towards the Terron unit, he did something expected. This action was unexpected since Meridian was trained to expect the unexpected. The android was edging closer to the lowest platform where the respected figure was running. The excitement in his upper chest was uncontrollable, causing it to be very uneasy as well. A constant throbbing was in his brain, moving back and forth at every possible moment that could induce fear. A very anxious android now was facing off against one of the finest captains in the system. A system in which there was no corruption, only skill. Chaotic thoughts suddenly attacked Meridian’s head. Alyte-Mind Tricks was the only thought he could easily comprehend. The feeling of going against every idea that he has ever known was impossible in itself. He could not meet his end here, after several miserable years of Terron training and efforts. He had lost too much, but he would lose his mind. Insanity created unrest, which eventually led to unorder. Creating unorder would lead to absolute chaos for the Terrons. Centuries worth of legacies would crumble in mere seconds if these Barbarians won. Androids don’t break easily (and neatly).

With a pleasing snap, the shiny red eyes of Meridian were no longer reflecting on himself, but directly on Raptors. A three-hundred-sixty-degree twist had done the trick. “Such a fine stunt shouldn’t go uncelebrated, don’t you agree Alyte?” Meridian grinned “This festival was exactly what I wanted to become what the Terrons needed.” A whistle had now reached across the entire Moltagen planet. A thrust of sound and wind danced together as the confused Alytes stumbled. Their metal feet only caused more attention for the arriving, devastating entity. Meridian watched as the unsuspecting champions focused on the artificial chaos, unaware of the deadly weapon full of more life than anything they have ever seen in their careers. Circular destruction was coming but the Alytes were too moronic to even look in the other direction, especially the Rookie. Who Invited him? 

“Hello there mate, I’m Reed.” said the green-masked with an Australian accent. If it wasn’t for the helmet, he would’ve looked like a Terron. The stunned android on Brick Bridge swiftly composed himself and threw an uppercut at the Alyte fighter. He didn’t even know if he was a rookie, general, or emperor of the entire galaxy. Reed caught one hundred ninety pounds worth of pain and grimaced. “Woah there mate, is this how you treat thy friends.” it was the most irritating voice Meridian had heard in his entire life. A flurry of punches composed of hooks, uppercuts, and jabs hunted the unidentified enemy. Each Predator Punch narrowingly misses its prey. Reed would’ve claimed he was so thin, he could deform his body at will. As the rain poured on the Moltagen planet, the aroma of acid started to wear down the Alytes. Of course The Terron’s most infamous strategy. There are simply some things an individual should never mix for results, such as moisture and Moltagen. How ironic, a liquid mineral creates a despicable mixture containing absolute pain. The churning, twisting arms rose against a sea of the void, massive and impeccable. With three fingers, two arms revealed themselves, not without a screech that would inevitably strike anxiety in the Alytes, or to whomever it may concern. Disturbing void matter “Voltagen” accelerated on the metallic, dull Terron facility. Along with the weapons, Alytes have slowly backed up slightly. The lack of walls did make a beautiful sight, Terron and Alyte alike, but it was too risky to view more than a thin moment as the climax of the explosive missile was incoming. “Big, big trouble” exclaimed Raptors behind Reed. “It’s about time we retreated into the ‘gyrocopter.” Even Meridian didn’t understand the technology of the soldiers of Alon. But that didn’t stop the determination in his eyes, he would capture this meddling Australian youth, at this very moment. Like the Terron Promise said, “To punish and enslave.” The dead eyes of Reed aged him up by a couple of decades, eyes that proved years of experience and tragedy.” Every repeated blow pounced Meridian like a Gyrocrafter, yet he would always find a way to block it. One final thrust was intended to finish the android off, but at that moment, a Sykokin noticed the duel of Champions. 

The monstrous clone’s predator instincts kicked in to descend quickly in front of the punch. Instead of feeling the scraped metal of a Maverick, Reed grabbed the flesh of Sykokin remains. The abundance of Terron energy was unintended, smudged, black liquid landed on the outraged intellectual being. What Meridian did enjoy, however, was the burst of Moltagen excreted from the clone. His metallic, gray arms recognized the substance immediately and grinned menacingly. The yellow resource seeped into the Maverick’s nice armor and drugged his core to the maximum. Everything accelerated, and then the substance enhanced the core, the heart, the brain, and most importantly, the soul. The only thing that changed on the exterior, however, was the eyes of Meridian.

Reed grabbed Raptor’s weapon in response to the transformation. A black, metallic, and shining Glaive, Nemesary refracted a red outlined tint under the light of Moltassa’s darkest moon, Myst. Several Alon Generals ordered a retreat signal by flashing a bright, red-shining light in the direction of the other Terron moon, Crysis. They were only a small part of Merris’ United Military. Raptors, now bare-handed only grew more confident at the retreat of his people. Yet this was not a complete truth, the Alyte Captain had one more trick up his sleeve, Programmable Essence. The bendy and gravity-defying matter followed every command programmed into it. An entire programming language was hosted to control this single concept of technology. Raptors alleviated the toy from his elbow and watched it zoom right to Meridian. Though the device was quite elegant and useful, it was still a physical object with no mind to think. Do you know how organisms have different objectives and goals? Well, this one was dead set on Terron hunting. The matter was great at chases too. Alytes decided to nickname the material “MeSources” As the block of resources transformed into a large dart, it hunted its target in midair. Zooming at a respectable sixteen miles per hour, the sharp form was only able to traverse eighteen feet before being stopped abruptly. A whirlpool was now speeding up under the Terron Renewal Bridge. A monstrosity with it. It was also the cause of the sudden stop of the Programmable Essence. Faruaxes The II. And the second he came into existence, everyone ran.

 Alytes were running to conserve resources (and their lives). Terrons were running because they didn’t expect an MV1 to be smart enough to operate a natural organism. Faruaxes was running the planet because Meridian made a minor mistake. The giant titan was now loose on the Moltagen planet. With a great height of forty feet, he roamed the perimeter, causing as much damage as he could. Crushing ‘crafter, ‘copters, and everything in between. Faruaxes was running around the circular metallic surface trying to locate a moon to jump to, his green armored body making heavy sounds. His helmet was composed of dark steel and shined a lust color of Zinc. A full-scale retreat was now for the Alytes, including Reed and Raptors. Yet only one of them decided to do so, the muscular, revolting captain of Merris Military. Reed remained stationary, showing not even a quiver of fear on his spikey back. A sharp V-shaped golden piece of armor attached itself to him. Even though he was wearing a faded and dark helmet, Meridian could tell what emotion he must’ve been feeling. That feeling had to be dread. He was sure of it, no one got past Meridian Munkin, especially with a Terron Great Titan by his side. They both traded heavy blows with each other, it took about twelve minutes into the duel that they both realized they should’ve been more defensive. A large glow of orange light tracked the two Champions. It came from a dark figure with bright red eyes. It only dawned on Reed and Meridian that they’d been fighting for half a day. A scary thought that was considering the adrenaline in their bones deceived them into believing it had been only a few mere hours. The Battle of Battifice, on Moltassa, shall be remembered as one of the darkest days that set the place on the Terron planet. Yet the red beacon was not going to improve the dire circumstances. A echoed sound covered the bridge, like a burning alarm or the screams of those already lost. The eyes of the dark figure were as big as some Alyte ships. This was truly a creepy yet fascinating specimen of a beast. Believed to be the prey, Faruaxes charged at what looked like a beast four times as tall as him. At night time, Moltassa turned to a moonlight color, refracting each blue corner. For an abrupt moment, the burning light was now focused on the live titan. As the monster tackled the entity, Reed and Meridian saw it was only a machine. Iron and steel had forged the android’s armor. No matter how gigantic the legend would’ve been, it could never scratch the firm and tight skin of the Alyte weapon. So this is why the Alytes decided to run. thought Meridian. The Munkin heir watched as his greatest creation clashed with Raptor’s.

The first devastating blow was Farauxes’ followed by the great weapon rumored as “Aerobourne.” The giant circular axe was on its right arm when it struck the green Sykokin King. The pancreas was the sacred weak point, yet an unfamiliar Alyte knew it. Not only did the tubular axe pierce the Sykokin, it made a buzzing noise, everyone knew what this meant. Raptors smirked grimly as his masterpiece had n0w caused Moltagen and Sykokin remains to litter through the Terron home world. An agonizing screech from the Sykokin could be heard from the Alyte crafters. Raptors and Reed returned to their control room, the captain smirking one last time before leaving into the dark.

“No species would ever exist if the cycle of predators and prey didn’t exist” - Predox A Lesson in Morality

Chapter 5: Space War

Machama. That was what the Alytes had created. This was what I created, I saw it. My legendary name was on the back of the machine. I smiled intently as I returned to the control room of the crafter. The enclosed room consisted of a multitude of buttons and controls which were very bright. The crafter had a tail that was nearing a diameter of an airplane. The front has slightly bent and lowered to the height of a Sykokin adult male. In the front of the crafter, the ship was enclosed by a bubble-colored glass in the shape of a semicircle. The back of the crafter hosted a vast array of diverse tools. All of them were invented by fellow Merris citizens and Alyte soldiers. There was not a shred of betrayal on Raptor’s prized Genron. The crafter’s paint job was unique in contrast to the other machines. With two stripes of yellow across the entire front of the crafter looping through the back, the other pattern on the crafter was a green star, with blue and white stripes filling in the remaining unpainted areas. While the other Gyrocrafters had the colors and patterns of the Merris flag, Raptor’s had the design of a true Alyte Champion. No, the design of a real Alyte Captain. The memory of an Alyte mechanism obliterating a Terron legend in a couple of blows was going to last a while. The medals he would receive on Merris would be quite pretty, but the ability to go back home and feel your loved ones’ affection meant more than anything to any soldier. The battalion of Gyrocrafters was now steadily arriving to Merris from Moltassa. Passing through Terron planets, Raptors felt a warm sense of suspense raiding his mind and relief as well on each light year there. Merva, Herbon, Baros, and Uvie were all beautiful planets to look at in retrospect. The gaze could not follow these space bodies for long as Raptors could make even more unwanted drama in the Cosmic Stereo Imperium (CSI). Raptors stared back at the dark hallway inside the vehicle. Large buttons decorated each side of Raptors’ famed Gyrocrafter. As the squadron of Alyte soldiers traversed through the enormous solar system, the Alyte Captain identified every flying ‘crafter and ‘copter airborne. He said everything aloud, “Alyte, Ghost, Alyte, Alyte, Ghost, Barbarian.” After the two hundred twenty thousand mile trip from and to Moltassa was completed, six hundred Alytes now arrived home. 

Home of a gargantuan battle in the cosmic space, where Merris was, another event was brewing. As the battalion of crafters was noticed by Barbarian flamers, missiles were fired. They appeared to have ignited from Barbarian Starvers, triangle-shaped illusion ships. The word illusion in this context would mean along the lines of fool, or deny. The twirling weapons danced in the darkness of the night sky. Identification was obvious as each space shuttle was marked with a dark red insignia painted on the exterior design. They almost always flew in circular directions as ordered by Barbarian captains. Starvers were now blasting upon Alyte defenses, the enemies of Merris had dual rifles attached at the front which exerted beams of energy that turned into light when contacted. They flew swiftly to evade danger. They had now actively fired upon Merris’ defense systems. Gliding downwards, Raptors could see twenty Starvers attempting to ram into the shield head-on, blowing up in a cloud of smoke as they did. The selfless (or in the Alytes’ eyes selfish) pilots did little to humiliate the space wall’s integrity. The transparent defense circled the port where ‘crafters entered and exited.

Despite this, only one thing was on Raptor’s mind as the chaos spread. A memory sparked in his mind when a specific enemy entered the premises. A red, human-shaped figure was gliding in the dark space without any Milock devices. What he did have, however, was a set of genetic wings allowing the Barbarian to take flight. The unidentified creature traversed at a mild speed and eventually landed on the hard metal of a Flamer-ZeroXar. With his two metal wings, the crow opened the glass chute of the deep red jet. Raptors signaled a Mini ‘Crafter to chase the Barbarian. Two flat surfaces retracted to open the carrier and an Alyte ‘crafter emerged from above the garage. A pilot wore his helmet as he guided the battery-shaped vehicle into the deep cosmos. Another challenger in the Space War revved up its cylinder-shaped core until the cyan-colored ‘crafter intersected a Terron blaster’s shots and a Barbarian Flamer’s missile. This did not slow down the ‘crafter any time soon. The quickly exerted energy flew directly onto the ‘crafter’s core, located in the middle of the ship. The once solid missile had melted into a vat of smoke which was now powering the ‘crafter. The yellow ball recognized the liquid and passed it down through a tiny tube into the battery of the jet. An Alyte Cadet was very satisfied in his sixteen-foot-long and 12 feet tall Milock vehicle right now. He remembered not to punch the windshield in excitement. Instead, he landed back on Genron.

 Cadet Sepp of Colony Four had correctly predicted the fact both Terron ‘copters and Barbarian ‘flamers were now adamant about eliminating the interference. Both black ships chased the battery-powered Mini ‘Crafter at a constant speed of four-hundred miles per hour. Every turn was only fueling Sepp with adrenaline and his enemies with anger. Inside the Mini ‘Crafter, Sepp turned on his IPS (Internation Positioning System) and marked Genron. As the three ships traversed through the solar system, the Barbarian, Venkos blasted the other Terron ‘copter in pure anger. His eyes only grew darker with this disturbing action. The blades on top of the vehicle immediately gave away. The body of the enemy ‘copter split in half, letting go of twenty fluid ounces of Moltagen. Sepp was informed by looking at his side view mirror and he quickly reversed to get the addictive substance on his armor and weapon. As he felt the moist, green liquid covering the majority of his rough, bright, and blue armor, he smiled as intensely as he could showing the Barbarian who his species were truly attacking. A painful groan escaped the Alyte’s enemy. Sepp put back his lever in forward mode and landed on Genron. The Alyte Cadet enjoyed being doused in Moltagen after blasting the Barbarian ‘flamer with a red shot of liquid which melted and crashed the ship. The blast even melted the Barbarian pilot. After the Gyrocrafter descended, the larger Milock ship opened its vertical hatch to let pass Sepp. The pilot could finally take a small breather as he turned off the ‘crafter from the tight interior

Another hatch unlocked coming from Sepp’s ‘crafter and the battery-shaped vehicle retracted its rectangle-shaped glass cover. The Cadet hopped off and landed on the gray but shiny floor of Genron. Before he could get anywhere close to a Recharge station, Cadet Simon Sepp of Alyte Elites experienced a terrifying moment of unconsciousness before waking up only to get ambushed by an unknown opponent. As he was grabbed from behind and landed on his knees, Sepp kicked his foot backward causing the intruder to stumble face-first into the iron floor. The Alyte thrust his ankles sideways and pushed his knee to his enemy’s forehead. This mystery man had retracted and rolled back to clench his fists. Several blows to the Cadet’s head were all it took. Sepp fell backward and the unaligned soldier searched his chest pocket. He found a green karambit and held it tightly. It would look perfect on him. Sepp could sense his satisfaction and used the last of his energy to push the blade into his enemy’s neck. At this point, Sepp’s rival could barely catch the blade and pushed it to go into the Cadet’s neck. He leaned forward and the stakes were increasing. Simon pushed harder suddenly and swiped the karambit to the side and sliced the intruder. It was not fatal and the interloper did the same thing, but much more effectively. He had not known how exhausted he was until the duel was over. It had happened so quickly, he forgot about the thud on the ground as the Cadet pierced him. He investigated the sound and found a copper pendant on enemy territory. The item was cheaply made yet it meant too much to the intruder with a rich amount of power. He acknowledged the fact a simple Cadet was able to waste an important pendant that had traveled with him for most of his complicated life. There was only one answer, to get stronger. After all, it was just a single possession, he had to mentally train for these things to happen. He looked at the picture of the smiling male figure placed lazily in the square-shaped pendant. He looked at the broken smile for the last time before leaving to take care of more dire matters.

The air carrier had a set of automatic double doors which opened to anyone. The nameless intruder made sure to make himself as obscured as possible. He identified every object he could hide behind before passing through the double doors. He entered the primary lounge and looked for his next target. His thoughts were solidified, he only took notes on what he was currently focused on. The Gyrocrafter had a black and yellow exterior yet the interior had the color of a Moltagen Frog. White walls with smaller strips of Moltagen Green, the Alyte Elites hung out in. Genron’s intruder walked in the shadows, where there was little to no light. He sneaked to the top floor of the ‘crafter and identified any exits he could use as an escape. The flight of stairs the intruder used was quite exquisite, he admitted. He blended himself with the shadows with the camouflaged outfit. Not a single Alyte knew his location at this point. He quickly ascended to the second highest floor on the impregnable Milock Gyrocrafter. An iron door was blocking Genron’s intruder from entering the metallic room, however. Yet this was a challenge he had faced before. No matter, he would just use the same solution he used last time. With his eyes closed, the intruder tried to forget about everything that had happened today, looking for a memory that he would appreciate. He was slowly running out of positive memories to remember. Maybe he should just search his mind for a common memory and conquer the negative emotion.

Day 21, I still don’t think the Alyte Gyrocrafters are leaving the premises. I believe it’s safe to assume that I could sneak into one and escape to another Solar System, I haven’t identified a single enemy yet. Why would I? I’m about to leave this cursed location, I believe it was called Merris.

Or maybe he didn’t have to, neutral and boring memories could work as well. He had nothing to focus on, which in turn, made him focus on obtaining his true form. He fell into unconsciousness, he would only wake up once the process was done. The principle of the process was skill, he had to be skilled. In just several seconds, the interloper sprang to life, but not as a solid being. He had limited vision now, the size of his eyes could only display eighty percent of what he could previously see. He felt like each corner of his eyes was shrunk by a considerable amount. The metallic door was no longer an issue for Genron’s intruder. He peaked through one of the glass stripes on the door and spotted a shadow caused by a Moltagen container. It was cylinder shaped and transparent, it remained stationary. He stared at the small object and blinked, he was in the shadow of the Moltagen bottle. From the walls, the intruder emerged and leaped to the middle of the room. He drew his Karambit. The lighting in the room was significantly more unique than the main lounge of the Gyrocrafter. It was much darker. The only light admitted was from the ceiling. Orange lamps illuminated the room. Genron’s intruder walked slowly along the wall, still as a shadow. The perfect environment, a room with many large shadows. The low ceiling ended when he reached the end of the room. A set of metallic double doors were in front of him. He opened them with a swift push. As he did, the warm lighting on the other side blinded him, yet that was the last thing he should be worrying about.

The interloper felt his form falling apart, the sensation of flame was in his very head. In all but a few mere moments, the once-invisible hunter returned to his dull, solid state. The room was revealed to be an octagon-shaped prison. Groans and screams deafened him severely. At that moment a linear ramp dropped down in front of him, with a Milock sign directing him to go up the ramp. The sign was modern, 14200 built, just made three years ago. He suspiciously went up to the blue-tinted ramp. He had gotten used to the bright light. Cells were extruding out of the walls, hosting a variety of several prisoners, most of them Barbarian soldiers. Genron’s intruder had a sneaking suspicion that only soldiers hated him since his occupation as a bounty hunter. It didn’t matter if he was an Alyte, Barbarian, or Terron, they despised the masked intruder. They especially hated his outfit, consisting of everything that went against what they had been told to respect. At least that was something everyone in the solar system could agree upon. He unstrapped his Kitsune mask to showcase it to the rectangular-shaped Milock device that appeared out of the ceiling, supported by a slow-moving metal arm. It came from above and the intruder used both hands to thrust the blue and black headpiece into the television, the prisoners’ groans got louder as the Milock projector broke and slammed into the floor. The Milock device was now in pieces and the prisoners were even more upset. Sounds of extreme anguish continued as the interloper did what he was instructed to do. The ramp was dull and thick, which caused his pair of boots to make a distracting sound. This made his goal of achieving stealth harder to obtain. Not like he was already being watched and broadcasted on dozens of screens. The height of octagon-shaped prison was estimated to be around three-hundred feet tall, according to the calculations of the man nicknamed “Mr. Kitsune.” He liked to believe best-selling author Mark Krown would’ve used the name for his protagonist in another of his best-selling novels. With twenty floors in total, forty cells on each side, and two prisoners in each cell, he predicted there were about twelve thousand eight hundred trapped in one of the largest prisoners the intruder had seen. He had to admit, Alytes were amazing at capturing their foes. The sight almost made him shiver, but he had to remain level-headed. There was no way an Alyte wasn’t going to fight him. This had to be a carefully laid out trap. Kitsune did know the risk of infiltrating an Alyte Gyrocrafter, especially the famous Genron.

He ascended on the ramp walking slowly, but consistently. He unsheathed his intrinsic Naginata from its covering. The Kitsune knew his weapon was not only beautiful but practical. At least the Alyte prisoners would respect him for his weapon choice. The metal edge was tinted black with blue shading on the very end. The handle was made out of pinewood and the metal was Shincore-Steel. It felt so good to wield such a tool that you made. Kitsune’s creation radiated its light to every prisoner onboard. Even though chaos and insanity were spreading across the entire solar system, the interloper could at least brighten up some cells with his magnificent Naginata he named Yuki. He had finally reached the top of the ramp, waiting for whatever surprise the Genron captain had in store for him. He imagined what could be awaiting next, could it be a poisoned trap? Wall of spikes? Milock ambush? Terron squad? There was always a method of elimination in store for him every period of his life. The ceiling lights started to turn the glowing yellow room into a bright orange until it succumbed to almost complete darkness. All but a single ceiling lamp directed its way to the Kitsune-masked intruder. He could hear footsteps, noting it was only a single individual. The interloper turned on the flashlight he kept concealed in his back pocket. A few moments later, an Alyte captain was only a few inches away from him. He pointed the flashlight at the tall figure to study his figure. He asked Genron’s intruder to stop. “Mr. Kitsune” only did after pointing his light at his armor piece, which read “Captain Raptors.”

This was what this interloper looked like, hiding behind a mask, like the coward his group is, scared and sensitive to interaction. I slid my Cobra out of my pocket, a custom-tailored Scorpion Sword made clear and sleek. The transparent object exerted out of my scabbard and into the palm of my hand, which I clenched into a muscular fist. The Kitsune wannabe flinched. I took two steps forward and held the Milock device diagonally, blocking the ceiling light, and looked directly at the intruder. He held his Naginata high in the air as well, in a blocking position. It was like I could process every thought in the intruder’s head, he was taking in the environment and determining how to use any object to his advantage. Prisoners of diverse factions looked towards the ramp, hosting two very skilled Champions. Some of them watched our movements on the Milock television, but most of them were looking out of the metal bars of their cells, gazing upon our stances. Screams were getting louder, I knew these prisoners would like nothing more than for the intruder to win, thinking he will be their savior. The battle outside had not changed one bit, however. Barbarian ‘flamers and Alyte ‘crafters blasted each other and the eardrums of the people inside Genron. I was quite surprised at how calm the man looked, even behind his blue mask. White robes concealed potential storage space for his tools. His attire matched Terron Magicians but he had the Naginata admired by Alyte Champions. The man’s mind was also difficult to comprehend as well. What could he want on Genron? I looked at him a final time before taking my stance. The fight will commence, soon enough.

As the two Champions exited their fighting stances, they both dashed at each other. Raptors lunged, putting his large Cobra to the intruder’s Naginata. The man reacted by taking a step backward, adjusting his Naginata in a perfect defensive position. Captain Raptors took two steps backward, and lunged again, twisting his Scorpion Sword downwards, and rose the device past the interloper’s Naginata and through his shoulder, both of the Champions paused. Only two seconds later, they resumed. After enduring the bite of Cobra, Kitsune raised both hands and caused his Naginata to move upwards, causing Raptors to move back a few steps. He only moved a few steps forward afterward. The intruder was now gaining control of the environment, a direct forward Naginata lunge was commenced but the Alyte captain sidestepped the linear attack and swiped his sword to Kitsune’s thigh. The two figures backed off and unleashed a flurry of attacks repeatedly. It was not simply a pattern, it was a religion. The process was called Merging like two enemies who hated each other yet couldn’t keep their eyes off one another. Both Champions rarely hit each other, using their weapons as shields. Another flurry engaged but Kitsune said something that surprised Raptors. “Terry Hyte” exclaimed the interloper.  That was the captain’s true identity.

“Interloper, how do you know that name”

“The Sykokin Accords, I read your name” shrieked the intruder. “You should know that I’m a massive history fan.”

“You're only going to have a single blade in your arsenal after this” barked Terry. As Captain Raptors dashed, his dark, short hair, was shiny. His Alyte hat black and blue with a Merris logo refracted light and blinded Mr. Kitsune as Terry Raptors looked downwards and thrust his Cobra into the man’s abdomen, the Scorpion sword stinging yet another victim with its venomous tip. While the wound was painful, especially when the Alyte captain pulled the sword out, Kitsune remained calm and lunged again, swinging downwards again. Too predictable. A perfect Merris phrase that described what happened. As the Naginata spun around the floor an airborne Alyte was landing a brutal kick on the intruder’s face. He landed backward and a peculiar item had fallen onto the ground. It fell off the intruder’s robes and when studied by Terry, it was revealed to be a makeshift pickaxe, which was a surprise to even the prisoners. There was little use for a pickaxe in the solar system. The pickaxe had a marking from Ares, the hidden group of tech-savvy criminals. The identity of the man was finally revealed with just a gust of wind. The dirt covering the encryption fell apart and a name was written on the pickaxe, Issac Kitsune. A name that would later be remembered for as long as history lasted, but there was still a fight commencing.

Round two. The kick from the Alyte captain caused me to fall down and now I only have one more chance to make this right. The Naginata fell out of my hand and pierced the wall nearby, I tumbled down the ramp. At that moment, the unnamed opponent with Alyte armor pushed his hand into a glove attached to a control box and pulled. An alarm could be heard and an impossible gust of force overpowered me. The man must’ve opened the chute to dispose of me. Alytes and Barbarians were the more low-hanging fruit in the Solar Tree, with the most honest and freshest being the Vemurs. They probably bought that spot but that was likely the most ethical way any Great Legion was recognized. I couldn’t lose precious time thinking about trivial thoughts though, if I did, I would soon be a piece of litter in the large Solar Tree myself. Kicking back from the glass panel from the opening chute, I thrust and grabbed my Naginata and used my short time in zero gravity to lunge the Naginata into the control box. It went flying. Captain Raptors ducked to the side of the rectangle-shaped Milock invention. The speedy Japanese weapon decimated the box by piercing its front side. The intruder thought destroying the control box would activate the emergency “else” statement in its programming and close the chute. The Kitsune-masked man was indeed, correct. Both the semicircle-shaped panel and the interloper were able to get inside the Gyrocrafter as safely as possible. The man from Ares took hold of his Naginata yet again and coughed once before running as fast as he could with his weapon in his hand facing diagonally. He ran towards the ramp once again, round two had now truly started and the Champion jumped twenty feet in the air, impressing Genron’s prisoners and paralyzing Terry Raptors in place. The Naginata named Kin in the man’s right hand was thrown downwards at an especially fast pace but it missed the Alyte captain. Another unexpected event, at least for the captain, the intruder intended on missing his target. While Terry was focused on the steel Naginata, the man from Ares landed behind him and unleashed a flurry of attacks on the man from Merris using his bare hands. The combo of actions resembled a hungry predator using its massive claws than an experienced Champion carefully pinpointing its target’s weakest point. He used all ten of his sharp fingers to attempt to scratch the attentive Merris patriot. Terry reacted with fine dodging and ducking, letting not a single fingernail stain his impeccable Alyte armor. While the man from Ares had flawless attacks, the Alyte Champion denied the effectiveness with another flurry of flawless evasive maneuvers. At one point in the claw-like aggressions, the man from Merris carefully grabbed the Kitsune-masked man’s right arm and threw him forward and he handed on both of his feet. Terry had to admit the man from Ares had an elegant way of landing. He held out his right hand in a palm, sliding a metallic switch up his arm. The Naginata retracted back in his arm. He had recalled his weapon for round three.

Interesting way to retract your weapon, I thought. Milock devices had many different uses for a variety of creative minds. The man from Ares jumped to his right and landed on the floor below, the area with the chute I tried to eject him with. White tinfoil covered the yellow floor which gave it a slight shiny effect. I looked over the ramp and jumped toward the interloper. With a swift dropkick, my metallic boots hunted the bounty hunter this time. Both of my legs landed directly on the man’s abdomen and sent him flying, but with a quick push with his legs, he made his way to my location. A white railing was behind me and the man from Ares used it to his advantage in an extravagant way. Due to the state of zero gravity, the “Kitsune” was able to easily latch onto the railing. As he grabbed the stable railing with his left arm, he twisted his legs together to perform a series of two kicks to my chest and Cobra. The rapier-shaped sword fell out of my hand and ascended to the top of the prison. The attack had propelled me opposite of him. At that moment, the man from Ares moved his right arm backwards, which activated the Milock device used to control the amount of Moltagen in the vicinity of the area, meaning the control box was not restricted as the function was considered “trivial.” The bounty hunter now had a perfect opportunity to take me out, and he took that chance. He used the same Milock device for retrieving his Naginata as last time and held it in his left arm like a throwing spear. He lunged the steel weapon at my chest, piercing me as the chute broke due to the high level of Moltagen making it delicate. Shattering glass could be heard even from inside Genron’s cells. As always, I was getting as close to death as possible with another opponent, but there was no shame in the fear of death, only if you let that fear rule you. The force from space overwhelmed the entire room and I was dragged out into the empty solar system. I was unable to instantly control my position and rotation, but after a few moments, Alyte training had surged into my mind and I was once again, looking at the man from Ares, just now in space, attached to a Milock device which prevented me from drifting away. The intruder grabbed the railing and stomped on the Gyrocrafter’s floor. A pair of blades extruded from each blade and pierced the ground with solid Moltagen, keeping Genron’s intruder in place. There was one last thing I could do to try to save myself, I had placed Milock Magnets on my boots since they were a gift from an upcoming Alyte Speedmaster named Adam Aero. The young Alyte was above-average in combat, but the special part about the lad was the fact he was skilled in both Alyte Engineering and Reverse-Alyte-Engineering. I hope the heir of Legion Aero is doing well, not in a prison cell or anything along those lines. The Magnets turned on automatically and sensed the nearby Gyrocrafter glass panel and rocketed my body towards the chute, where my legs were to decide my fate. Adrenaline desentizied me to the fact I would probably die, I didn’t care anymore in my twenty eight years of being an Alyte. I had a job to do and I loved it, I had to bring justice. I crashed on the panel and it broke, but the force from my legs weren’t enough to get inside the ‘crafter’s chute after breaking it. It was over, just like that. One last deed in my adventurous life included the execution of an additional count of at least one-hundred criminals. The interloper had closed the large chute after I was ejected. My passing was worth it once I saw the man’s Kitsune mask break from the overwhelming force of space and caught a glimps of his hopes shattering and fear overtake him. All of us were almost guaranteed to become lifeless space matter, yet I could not feel any strong emotions. I only thought on what this place was, a large area with multiple big circular landmarks which each hosted an abundance of orgranisms, all different in sizes and shapes. What could I call it? A universe? A galaxy? A world? All of those had been previously used, I wanted something new to call my home, our home. I know, a legend of old which had been told in many folktales and children’s stories. The Fifth Champion, his name was Predox, the one responsible for creating the Predator and Prey system, an endless process that has saved many species from extinction. He had a prized possession, an Alyte device called a soundplayer, it could only play an ancient genre of songs called “Stereo.” It was quite a majestic name with an even grander meaning. Yes, that would be quite nice actually, I liked the name Stereo. I looked to the large, purple-colored region and took his last breath as I looked at Stereo.

[INFORMATION RETURNED]

Language: MerrisOFFICIAL

{access IMPORTANT FIGURES’ PROFILES.MerrisOF}

[return IMPORTANT FIGURES’ PROFILES]

Console: {

* Adam Aero

* Terry Raptors

}