Needless to say, my evening had been somewhat spoiled after today's unexpected event. Not that it mattered that much, though. For what it was worth, today had been a much more interesting day than I could have ever imagined.
As a shackled mutt, any form of stimulation that came my way was more than welcomed.
Given my reputation at Afon, the number of people who'd actually seek someone like me out could be counted on a single hand. During my second year, I was subject to harassment from all sides because of the aristocrats who wanted me to bend the knee, but after I got caught by the Feds, everything changed.
Even the aristocrats didn't want anything from me anymore, except for a few notable individuals who knew what I had truly gotten myself into. My running assumption is that they're similar to my little High Elf friend, who had used her family's powerful connections to see my true past.
To them, I was likely an exotic kind of creature that they'd never seen before up close.
A modern-age insurrectionist and someone who had dared to conspire against the Old World.
In the end, though, it'd all been but a mirage on the surface of a grand lie. My role had come to a close and I was no longer deemed necessary, hence my new position as a dog of the state.
Had it been out of love? Or had it purely been a business decision? I still don't know to this day.
One reason I could accept with a bitter smile... and the other I could not.
Not that I'd ever find out, 'specially after I was chipped and had my name put in the Big Book.
I took off my shirt and stared at the delicate, almost invisible thin line on my chest.
A permanent scar. It was proof that I had been given the illustrious badge that so many in the Underworld coveted for themselves.
Beneath that faint scar laid my still-beating heart, though it had been turned against me, now. Nestled within one of the walls in my heart was a platinum microchip — my lifelong executioner.
I heard it being called "Liberty's Kiss" once by someone I once knew. He told me that all men worthy of Liberty's Kiss are truly and wholly unbound from society. The ultimate freedom at the cost of one's former place in society — that's Liberty's Kiss, in a nutshell.
It would remain active for as long as my heart stirred, requiring only a minimal amount of voltage to operate, which my heart easily provided for it.
There was no running from it, for it was beside me at all times. It was the punishment that the High Court had sentenced upon me for my crimes.
With a single command, the microchip in my heart would release an electric charge powerful enough to cause a guaranteed heart attack, thereby killing me.
It was a clean way to die that would not result in any further bloodshed for both parties.
As I gazed at my chest, I couldn't help but think about the face of the man who told me about true freedom and what it entailed.
No longer shackled to one's social caste, race, or the fragile beliefs of society. It was a chaotic path that represented the belief that freedom superseded everything, be it society's stifling morals and ethics in pursuit of a greater, self-defined purpose.
Not what your parents told you to believe.
Not what your teachers told you to believe.
Not what your God told you to believe.
And most certainly not what society told you to believe.
It was a lonesome path and not for the... faint of heart.
I chuckled at my own joke in silence and then changed out of my school uniform. It was time to get to work.
There wasn't much to do after school. With the shackle on my ankle, I was always under the Feds' constant surveillance — it was all but given I was being tracked and monitored at all times.
I could go anywhere I wanted, so long as I returned to my kennel by 6:30 PM and stayed put until the next day. And when you considered that I finished my classes at 2:00 PM, I didn't have much time to do anything of value.
Takes half an hour to get home, so realistically I only have four hours to myself. Enough to take care of short errands like buying groceries or making a trip downtown to see a movie, but that's about it.
My "kennel", as I referred to it, was a large suite that my father has been renting for me to live in. Rather than keep a feral beast in the same home his precious children lived in, he preferred to have me out of sight and mind, even if it cost him some pocket change to do so.
I was, therefore, a single bachelor living on my own at the ripe old age of eighteen. When you think about it, I should be overjoyed about this outcome, given the.
"wonderful opportunities" it afforded me, but I really can't see it that way.
After all, the difficulty bar's been set too high for me. There's no sane girl in this city that'd give someone like me a chance if they knew about my record.
I let out a sad sigh and walked into my beloved comfort room. My holy church where I purged myself of all my worries and stress.
A metallic jungle warmly greeted me as soon as I entered the room. My steel bar shone beautifully as it called to me, asking what I'd be doing with it today.
To the left of me, a large rack of neatly assorted dumbbells cheered in joy as I sauntered over to them.
On the other side of my dumbbell rack laid a host miscellaneous resistance machines and old faithful — my beloved treadmill who had been with me since day one.
When I'd been nothing more than an overweight sack of fat and depression it was she who had brought me out of the darkness. I'd sell all of the gym equipment in my room before giving her up to anyone else.
Deadlifts. Squats. Bench Presses. Overhead Presses.
I warmed up with a solid set of and pushed myself.
At first, I had set out to break my old records, but that excuse didn't hold up for very long.
If I ran a mile slower than yesterday, I'd punish myself with an extra two miles as a lesson.
I had lost sight of myself at some point in time. These days, I simply threw myself into exercising until I could no more.
Truth be told, I felt as if I owed my punching bag an apology for all I had done to it. It usually suffered the most of all the equipment in the room.
It wasn't much of a sparring partner, but it kept up, so that was enough for me. My jabs, kicks, strikes, and throws did not deter the stoic fellow in the slightest.
I didn't have anyone to practice what I had been taught anymore, so it fell on me to continue improving my skills in solitude.
Why was I still working on my body, even though I'd never have an opportunity to prove myself ever again?
Was it out of habit, motivation, or... obsession?
The answer wasn't as obvious as I wished it'd be and I had no intention of finding it anytime soon.
If there was one thing I disliked about the apartment, it was that I found it too large for my needs. I didn't need the luxury suite and the four bedrooms and two bathrooms that it offered. This was a family-sized flat and I was all on my lonesome.
The emptiness of the suite only made intensified the feeling that I was truly alone, now. I had no one left.
...Well, that and the fact that the shower in my bathroom was broken. It was always scorching hot or frigid ice water — there was no fixing the damn plumbing in either bathroom.
After I melted myself taking a shower, I did what I usually did to pass time.
I booted up my personal holo-comp and spent a couple of hours scouring for modified parts for my precious child, my hoverbike.
Though I've already switched out most of the stock parts in my hoverbike, I feel that it's a crime to not see how far I could push my bike's limits.
My hoverbike can already hit over 220 mph when I juiced her out with Hexalite-class fuel, but I know she can go faster than that. With the right engine and a sufficiently modified cooling system, I'm sure that it could perform even the likes of a RAPTOR-TYPE R.
...Still, the bike's just a distraction for what I miss most.
My beloved chariot, the Pegasus 490, that I built up from scratch alongside my mentor, the person who taught me how to repair and modify vehicles, was completely gone.
That was a real fuckin' beaut made out of titanium, smoldering fire, and my tears. When she purred, you knew that she had the heart of a dragon inside of her. Like a fiery meteor from Hell, she could easily push past 390 mph and handle it without issue.
A funny memory popped into my head from a long time ago.
There I was, breaking the speed limit nearly five times over on a job. Escaping the Feds was piss easy, to the point that I could probably do it with my hands tied behind my back. I remember uttering something along the lines of, "I can do this with my eyes closed!" and then I got a surprising reply back from my boss.
She presumably wanted to put me down a notch, so as to make sure that I didn't get too cocky, but I didn't care.
So when I heard her say, "Don't talk a big game if you can't actually do it," I sort of took it as a challenge. I
I revved up the Pegasus, pushed her to the limit, and then followed up on my claim by...
Closing my eyes, whilst we barreled across the sky past five hundred miles per hour with a tow of Feds on our ass.
The sudden scream that came out of the Mistress's mouth was so shocking at the time that I nearly crashed into a building that night. It was the only time I ever witnessed her composed mask break, if only for a brief moment.
I felt as if I had seen something special that night. It was a little morsel of what I imagined this incredible woman must have been like when she was young.
Not that it age mattered to her, since she possessed the appearance of a young girl anyway. She was forever eighteen, at least on the outside.
The longer I reminisced on the memory, the more I felt that I no longer had I place to belong.
"What am I supposed to do without you?"
It was a question I so desperately wanted to ask her.
My beloved mentor and the leader of our group.
The one whom I swore my undying loyalty to.
She who had taken many of my firsts in life and raised me into who I was now.
I hated how this always happened — how my thoughts would always end up leading towards her.
In essence, I hated the fact that I still loved that woman, even after she abandoned me.
A stray dog without an owner meeting a scared and lost pup.
My thoughts naturally strayed toward the girl I met at school when I thought about myself. For better or worse, Lyla LeDeloux reminded me of myself once upon a time when I, too, had been nothing more than a scared, powerless pup.
Even though we come from different backgrounds, the hopeless spirit she had in her eyes was all too familiar to me.
I contemplated the unthinkable for a moment before I shelved the idea. Getting involved in her personal business was out of the question.
...At least, getting directly involved was not possible.
The more I thought about it, the more it felt feasible. After all, it had worked for me at the time, so there was nothing preventing it from working again.
But I'd need to figure out what her problem is first before I get any wild ideas. Still, it was better than rejecting her outright.
...Her story seems pretty interesting, too.
If I can get into this little High Elf's good graces, I might be able to get a favor out of her in the future.
And if there's any family that might be able to find her, it'll definitely be the little princess's family.
For the first time in ages, I finally felt as if I had found a thread out of the darkness. All I needed to do was not lose it and soon enough, I'd be free.
I decided to sleep early tonight, as I would have a busy day tomorrow.
There was much to do and could scarcely hold my excitement down.
I was going to find her. No matter the cost.
And my little friend, Lyla LeDeloux, was going to help me with that... once I handled her problem.