The special containment facility has an eerie feeling. I'm completely isolated from the outside world, the only noise reaching my ear is the hum of the machine and the quiet sobs of my prisoner.

It's humbling to be inside this thing, especially considering the immense amount of essence of frost circulating into the walls.

If we made this thing a bit bigger, then it wouldn't be a stretch to say that we could freeze a desert.

But now isn't the time for idle thoughts, I need to question this woman no matter what.

The chained-up captive looks at me as I approach her, and she recoils when I pull out my Field Pistol. I may have traumatized her, but I'm not sorry at all.

"Don't ask how, but I know your name, Miss Mary Rosewood," I say. Her jaw drops, if she's shocked by this then what I'm about to say is going to make her faint. "I also know that you're a bit special, aren't you? I don't know how it is possible, but you are a human-dragon hybrid. Am I correct?"

"H-How do you even know this? And who are these people?" she stammers, and I click my tongue.

"I am the one asking questions..." I activate my robes, the sudden burst of golden aura makes her fall on her back, and she grimaces when she hurts her already damaged leg.

You tried to burn me alive, so I'm not even going to act like I'm concerned about your well-being.

"But let's get to the point, shall we?" I point my weapon at her intact leg. "I think you don't want the man who was with you to get hurt, do you?"

"L-Leave my father out of this! Please don't hurt him!" she begs desperately, and the voice in my head gloats. I refrain from copying the voice's reaction, but it's good to see your enemies so HeLplEsS.

No, bad feral side. Don't interrupt my thoughts like that, even if I agree with you.

"It all depends on you. I'll get straight to the point then, why are you here?" I ask.

"I already told you, my goal was to join forces with you..." she says with hollow eyes.

Oops, I may have broken something in her head. I hope she's still under warranty.

Jokes aside, she's confirming what Sarah discovered, but maybe she isn't aware of having her memories altered? There must be something better than the crude Eraser of the Wolfheart Family, and it might have been used on her.

"How can I be certain that you're telling the truth? You were about to kill my men, and you fought me without even trying to confirm my identity." I declare. Of course, I'm not one to talk when it comes to being unreasonable and impulsive, but she doesn't have to know that.

"I thought they were mercenaries after your head, and they fired first, so I defended myself," Mary says.

Her declaration matches with the report I heard during the helicopter trip. I can understand why the Legionaries attacked her, but it seems like we were both at fault for this mess.

At least if I assume that she isn't after my head.

"Got it, then how did you become what you are?" I ask. Learning how to create such powerful beings is something I need to know. Due to my condition, I can't change my own body, but I could produce better soldiers.

As for a source of draconic blood, I have one chained up in front of me. The effects may be reduced compared to using the blood of a real dragon, but it's bound to have a significant impact.

"I-I don't know; my dad did it. But he never taught me the specifics. He said that it was a stroke of luck..." she sighs.

Fair point, I know how all too well what it's like to accomplish something incredible without having any idea how you did it. But the value of that old man rose dramatically. If I can push him to take an Oath, then he'll be an invaluable addition to the Fabricators, and I'm sure that we'll be able to understand how he 'upgraded' Mary.

"Got it, now onto the next point. Why would you want to join us? You saw the video of the Incident. What I want to do is not something you can back out of once you're in. And you'll likely live the life of a fugitive and fight constant battles." I declare.

This woman pretends to care despite being so strong. If she cared, why didn't she start her rebellion? I can't be the only one who thought about it, and I'm far from being the most qualified to lead a revolt.

She nods, "I know... My father and l lost a lot because of the Enforcers. But we couldn't do anything about it. They are too powerful, too numerous..."

Are you kidding me? You speak of being powerless despite being so strong that you could wipe out a lot of Families by yourself? I rose up against the entire Enforcer system by myself, and I'm just an average guy with a gun!

It's true that my guns are a bit modified, and I have a tiny hidden advantage, but it's nothing compared to the might she displayed earlier.

"But it didn't stop you, did it?" she continues where she left off. "At first I thought you were like me, someone who somehow gained a draconic bloodline. But you're something different, aren't you? I wonder why these robed people call you Prometheus, are you-"

"I am the one asking questions here." I interrupt, "Now, I know that you've been hearing popping noises lately. So tell me what you know about them."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

She looks shocked, and she makes a wry smile. "So you even know about them... I don't know why they started, but from our brief battle I think they are related to you?"

I aim my gun towards her heart, "I will ask again, do you know anything about it. Do not omit a single detail or I'm going to shoot you."

"I don't know anything... Believe me. I tried to understand. I used so many different healing spells that I lost count, but they remained no matter what I tried." She says while nervously looking at my handgun.

My tongue clicks and I stop aiming at her. I'm tempted to believe her story since the two would be an invaluable addition to the growing Order, but I need to be confident that I can trust them. I don't know if the Oath would be able to do anything against someone with the blood of the dragons in their vein.

It's a hard decision to make, but I think I have an idea that might work. I grab my phone and select the Rewinder. This time I plan to Rewind to an earlier point so I will be able to take care of the mercenary group before they arrive. I should be able to talk to her that way, and we'll see how she reacts when she thinks I'm alone and tired. If she's telling the truth, then she will not try to murder me, but if she does...

I'm itChiNg fOr a ReMatCh.

...??? PoV...

A yawn escapes my mouth, I'm feeling a bit tired, so I order a servant to bring me a cup of strong coffee. The white-robed attendant nods and disappears from my sight. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, what am I going to look at this time around?

There's always something exciting happening in the world. And if I'm lucky, I should find another powerful guy to blackmail or new secrets to steal.

I pass a hand through my long blond hair and smirk while taking in my surroundings. Our base of operation is equipped with all the latest developments regarding defenses. Ancestral techniques, new technology being invented... I am aware of them all, and I copy and combine them to suit my needs. This ability of mine is quite handy, and my followers do genuinely believe in my divine nature.

In truth, it's just a massive bluff. My supposed immortality? I just copied the recipe for a special serum that someone from another universe invented and mixed it with dragon blood that I gathered from a very ancient and forgotten battlefield. Combining the potent mixture changed me on a fundamental level, and eternal life is just one of the minor perks.

With it came massive amounts of power. Those Strategic spells that the Enforcers are so fond of? I know them all and can cast them in an instant. But they aren't the best spells in my repertoire. I also learned some potent techniques from some random corners of various universes.

My followers are also benefiting from my knowledge, they receive the best training possible, and our basic equipment would be enough to make the wealthier Families jealous.

Ironically, they call me the Oracle, the All-seeing One... But my ability only made me realize how blind I genuinely am. I can only know something if I precisely look for it, so most of the time I'm just wandering in the dark until I happen upon something interesting.

"Mistress, your coffee." The attendant hands me a porcelain cup containing the warm beverage, I send her away and savor the bitter drink. This coffee has been grown according to my specifications, and it requires a lot of Magicite to keep the crops alive.

Most people would call it a waste, but I'm not most people.

I drink the rest of the liquid and focus; soon I feel the familiar sensation of my ability activating. A search bar appears in my mind, and I ponder on what I should look into today. Interestingly enough, some news of my home planet reached my ears.

Some random person killed a world-ending demon, and he has said some pretty outlandish things.

How long has it been since I have been on this damn blue rock? If I recall correctly, it has almost been five thousand years since I fell into that distortion. After that, I managed to build up my little group of 'Followers of the Oracle', and I periodically went back when I had free time to check on how it evolved.

But I don't care too much about what happens to it, I've been away for so long that I feel like I don't belong there anymore.

I recall the name of the person in question. His name was John Thomson.

Searching his name, with the appropriate filters, gives me what I'm looking for. I'm a bit disappointed that accessing his data isn't forbidden, but I guess nobody can be that special.

My ability allows me to search for anything. It's like I have access to everything that has ever happened. But it's not omnipotent; whatever granted me this power restricts my access to certain things and certain periods. I don't care too much, what I'm allowed to access is already plenty enough to keep me busy for hundreds of lifetimes.

The story of the innocuous person named John Thomson flash in front of my eyes. I glance over the beginnings. Nothing is exciting there. His life is quite standard from the looks of things, he doesn't belong to some outstanding family with a special bloodline, and he isn't someone with a reality-defying ability.

I stifle a yawn. Nothing catches my attention, so I might just-

Oh? Interesting, this has never happened before.

I'm currently looking into a certain point in his life, a seemingly innocuous day. But the record becomes blank, and it says that I don't have permissions to access this part of the file.

The records resume to the start of the day, which is weird. The files always follow the chronological order of the dimension they are from, so they shouldn't be going back.

Something that immediately gets my attention is how his name in the records changed. At first, he was called John Thomson, but now he's called Anomaly P-02?

Shivers go down my spine. It has been a long time since something so interesting appeared. I focus on the name 'Anomaly P-02', but I can't access any more details no matter how hard I try.

Weird, I can't access his data sheet. But I can still access the records of his actions...

I lick my lips. This is getting better by the second!

The life of John Thomson soon becomes more interesting, and the tale of how he faced foes so much stronger than him are genuinely puzzling. I re-read certain paragraphs multiple times because I can't believe what I'm reading. It's like he's able to know things he shouldn't, and it seems like he can't lose no matter what.

I hold my breath as I go through a particularly tough fight against some lich. I can understand, those nasty buggers are very resilient pests, and someone so ordinary and powerless like Anomaly P-02 shouldn't be able to-

What?

A large part of the fight has been redacted, and it ends with him being unconscious. This pattern seems to repeat every so often, which puzzles me. What has he done that gave him the classification of Anomaly? It's something that I've never seen before, and having parts of his records redacted like that isn't something that has ever happened.

I keep reading. Maybe things will become more evident.

A few minutes pass, and I don't know what to think. On the one hand, I do genuinely believe that this person shouldn't be alive right now. He's just a regular human, and he hasn't used a spell once, so he shouldn't be able to endure so much. His equipment is unusual, and the building process, while hazardous and amateurish, seems to work okay for what it is.

It isn't on the level of anything we can produce, but the idea of making modular and semi-disposable artifacts is creative enough. His way of thinking certainly makes up for his apparent lack of skills. I had hopes for him since he learned enchanting so fast, but it looks like he cannot go any further.

It's a shame. If he could keep improving, then he would be able to do great things.

The rest of the file is a series of impossible encounters across worlds and dimensions, and each time he seems to be victorious. I don't believe in luck, this man is hiding something, and I find the new items he comes up with quite amusing.

It's impressive to see how far desperation can push someone. The thing he calls a Portal Gun? It's inefficient and slow, but it's a step in the right direction. His bullets are also a nice idea, but they wouldn't work against anyone who knows what they are doing. The MH Shells are something that I wouldn't have come up with. It's a complicated process for results that are, in my opinion, not worth the efforts.

To sum it up, this man is quite a mystery, and his antics are entertaining. I also want to meet him to learn his secrets that my ability will not reveal...

I hope he'll cooperate. It would be a shame to put an end to his existence.

...John's PoV...

DiE!

I fire one last MH Shell into the torso of a giant walking tree covered in armor, and the fucker dies on the spot. He has been a tough bastard, but he was the last one standing.

Killing a group of hundred trained mercenaries is easier than it looks when you have two helicopters with M2s firing into the ranks of the enemies. And that isn't counting the few troops to the side who were picking off the ones who tried to escape.

But the large tree-peoples were more robust than usual and quite fast considering their size. This doesn't bode well for the future...

I raise my thumb towards the flying vehicles, and they land near the battlefield. I survey the area and feel quite proud of what we accomplished today, mangled bodies and destroyed equipment litter the area but we don't even have one wounded person on our side.

Being the leader of a cult has its perks, so when I pop out of nowhere and ask people to mobilize and massacre a group of mercenaries nobody bats an eye.

In a way, it's a bit frightening.

But let's get back to the current situation. We finished our battle earlier than I thought we would since we attacked the mercenaries as soon as they teleported into the area. So it leaves us quite a bit of free time to prepare for the arrival of Mary and her dad.

I retract my helmet and order the cultists to hide in strategic positions, so I'll appear to be alone. If she attacks me, then she'll be turned into Swiss cheese before she can even understand what's happening.

Now I need to wait a few minutes...

I stand in the middle of the decaying bodies for ten minutes before a burst of gray smoke appears out of thin air. I put my shotgun on my shoulder and wave at the new arrivals.

"Hey, I'm John Thomson, and I believe we have some things to discuss!"