Within the center of the Great Dome capital "Spirit" there were 4 tall towers each one bigger then the last, each one reaching for the artificial sky and connected to one another via sky bridges, each one meant to be a testament to humanity's ever-growing hunger for new heights as well as humanity's connection to one another.
Unknown to the public beneath this symbol was an underground compound owned by the organization and within that compound into the deepest levels was room in silence, a round table where near every seat was sat upon, a meeting of shadowy individuals was taking place yet there was no word being said.
The silence and strain of the room so palpable that any ordinary person would have choked out or fainted in a cold sweat. These individuals that were give off such a presence were the heads of the organization. The strain within the room was not due to animosity, stress, or concern no they were waiting.
The scene continued for a few more moments until the door creaked open, and a man entered. He appeared to be in his prime—not exactly youthful with smooth skin, but not crippled by age either. His short, messy blonde hair framed an excited smile, which seemed to challenge the stiff and choking atmosphere that had filled the room. As he took his seat, his smile faltered slightly before he forced it back up. Breaking the heavy silence, he spoke.
"So, One and Three aren't coming, even for an occasion like this?" His voice was calm but tinged with disappointment.
A rough, elderly female voice sighed. "They are working on other important matters. As usual, you didn't bother reading their reports, Fifteen."
"Oh, come on, Hanna. If it doesn't sound interesting or I can't get involved, I'm not going to bother. And can you drop the numbers? I don't want to call you something so boring, Four."
Another man spoke, his voice deep and mesmerizing. "It's inappropriate in a workspace. And remember, out of all of us, you're the youngest, Pura."
"Fiiiine, whatever. But at least call me by my first name, not my last—it feels weird," he replied, exaggeratedly.
"So, whose body is it this time a guard? a scien-" The deep voice was cut off by the serious tone of a child.
"Enough. We don't have time for this. Twelve major compounds were attacked in near unison. Half of those compounds were completely annihilated—not by Cubixans, Anonymous, or our other obstacles, but by Rifts. The attack was so coordinated it was clearly planned. They targeted research facilities and containment compounds. Nothing this severe has happened since the Snap massacre."
Pura interjected, "Oh, please, you're exaggerating. This is more like the Red Dagger Rebellion, and even then, the damage isn't as great. Just like that time, we'll need to change security policies. I'm more interested in how they knew which facilities to attack."
A distorted voice, like something from an old-timey monitor, spoke up. "I must admit, it was quite a surprise when you contacted me and told me that a rift appeared directly in front of you."
The revelation caused some grumbling from different sections of the table, prompting a laugh from Liam.
"Yeah, I was quite surprised too. The thing took my head right off while I was giving that new kid a tour."
The child's voice spoke again, stern and unwavering. "Stop making light of others' work. You should have taken them straight to the item. One was quite specific in telling you to retrieve the device immediately after its refinements were finished."
"I couldn't help myself. The kid looked so funny with his pissed-off face in that lab coat although he straightened right out after i said it was an order from me so, Ha ha ha. Yeah, that reminds me…" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a black orb.
"The item itself. Gotta admit, that kid was either pretty ballsey or has a lack of self-preservation instincts. He'd be better suited for one of the Mil unit or a guard post. I'm definitely going to reass—"
"Don't you remember? He was Nathan's recommendation"
Liam paused to think making a face as if to say "who's Nathan?" before having that oh yeah face "Oh that's the kid?! well damn, no won-"
"Enough. Does it work?"
"For its task, yes."
"Good. Leave the smaller things to the others."
***
A harsh wind rushes through woods as inches of snow are ground upon by bare feet, bare pale feet. The boy seemingly wondering aimlessly kept his pace his head hung low and his ill toned skin only shrouded by a large ragged cloth crudely stitched together patches of dirty blue spots in the middle.
Raising his head he gazed deep into the woods finding a cabin, continuing his pace he walked as though the cold did not bother him. Reaching the cabin, he grabbed the knob of the door and turned it each movement made was clam as he entered the cabin and closing the door behind.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Scanning the interior A bear rug lay on the floor, and two chairs faced the fireplace, a slightly cushioned rocking chair and a leather recliner. Above the fireplace hung an old-world rifle, its rugged hardwood stock a deep brown that ran nearly the full length of the barrel. Wooden stairs led up to an interior balcony with a simple railing.
The boy sighed, moving to the recliner by the fireplace. He sat down and closed his eyes.
"Looks like nothing has changed," he muttered to himself, staring at the fire. The light barely reflected in his eyes, and the heat radiated against his pale skin. He had been to this place many times that how he knew it was one of those rare time were he had a dream.
His gaze settled on the cindering wood, when suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a floating orb.
Startled, he tilted his head. The orb was like white-tinted glass, hovering at the side of the fireplace. Then, another orb manifested, this one with a black tint, both suspended in the air.
Slowly, the boy stood and approached the fireplace. He reached out and touched the floating white orb, feeling a warmth spread through him, though it brought no comfort.
"that's new" he whispered to himself.
He watched the white orb for a moment longer before letting it go and turning his attention to the black one. Just as he was about to touch it, a beeping noise broke the silence, growing louder. He glanced around, searching for the source of the sound, but found nothing that could make it. Ignoring the noise, he reached out and touched the black orb. A cool, cold sensation wrapped around him, a sense of certainty flowing through his veins.
Closing his eyes everything disappeared the touch of the orb the crackling of the fire the softness of the bear rug on his feet.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at a white ceiling. Soft fabric pressed against his skin, and he felt a sticky patch on his wrist and a needle in his arm. A slow, steady flow of fluid entered his veins, accompanied by the rhythmic beeping sound every forty seconds.
Attempting to sit up, I bumped my head on something. Reeling back, I held my forehead and winced, only now realizing that I was in a pod. my vitals were displayed on the glass in front of me. The vitals were soon replaced by a set of words I couldn't read. I stayed still for a few more moments, clutching my head, before the pod's glass receded and I was able to sit up again, carefully removing the patch and needle from my arm as I did so.
The room was empty and small, no one here but Clip covered in a hospital gown, looking at the pod he saw a drawer next to it with some clothes on top along with disk transmitter. Taking the disk, he pressed the button in the middle and a voice came.
"These items are provided for your accommodation"
Sighing, he took the clothing and began to change but stopped and looked at himself finding that his wrists and ankles had obsidian like cuffs on curious he tried taking taking them off but his hand simply went through them the clothes provided consisting of two parts the first part was a long sleeved shirt and pants that stuck his body like another skin the second part was a baggy pair of long sleeved cloths the fabric mixing a soft and synthetic.
"Looking good, Operator." A voice
Startled, he looked around but saw no one.
"Addressing the System User without warning is ill-mannered and ill-advised." another voice came.
"Who's there?!"
Trying to stay calm, he instinctively lowered his stance and looked around.
"Calm down, Operator. We're just the voices in your head."
"What?!" the thought that he might have gone crazy seemed inconceivable.
"An incorrect description, we are the will of your blessings and cores, here to assist you, System User."
'Blessing? Cores? System? I've heard these words before,' he thought, trying to collect his memories. Suddenly, it all came back to him, the mission, the running, the fear of faliure, the message. He remembered now, these were the voices from then. The boyish and jesting one called him Operator, and the girlish one and calm one called him System User.
"I remember now. So that's how it is, I've been chosen by the System."
The System, a power that had manifested in a select few beings, first appearing at the end of the Martian Terrain Wars. It took humanity by storm, some saw it as a sign to rekindle the war, others integrated it into their religions, and still others believed it was a warning to prepare for something coming. There were two types of System Users, those born with it and those chosen by it later in life. Those born with the System were often stronger than those who manifested it later.
"Well, that's one way to put it," the voice said. "Try bringing up your status."
"How do I do that?"
"Just think about the word system."
Annoyed he simply said, "How can I think of a word I can barely spell?"
"What?"