"Do you... wish to die?"
"Iโ" Stultic stuttered.
Time froze.
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His life had been torn apart limb from limb. Four years passed since he fired the gun causing the "July Incident." Stultic was now fifteen. Labour laws dictated by Northern Abstrain were strict about age like those in the country of Moraine. Most jobs require the applicant to be a minimum of sixteen years of age. He had no parents, passports, or legal documentation of residency, leaving Stultic in quite the pickle.
He used Isaac's vintage house as a temporary living space, but he never felt safe living in the space alone. It haunted him to no end. The walls still had the massive holes crafted by Havoker's metal hands. The scratches in the wooden floorboards spoke terrorizing volumes to him. It got to the point where Stultic had to cover them up with a massive blanket to keep himself sane. Thankfully, he was able to sweep the bloodied glass into a trash bag and throw it into a garbage chute.
From then on, each day was mostly the same for him.
He woke up with a strong urge to eat anything potentially filling since his stomach was usually empty since he couldn't afford a decent supper. He had no steady source of income other than the now minimal amount of nexsos he had left inside his credit card. Even though the authorities likely froze all his father's bank accounts, the emergency funds credit card that was left in the vault was a special, non-tracible card. It was less flashy than the conventional credit cards of Northern Abstrain with a very minimalistic screen and thin metal plating. Most people tended to lean towards using their watches/holo-phones but the chances of having their accounts hacked, skyrocketed by hacker groups such as the infamous Zodan. This is why Stultic loved the idea of having a physical one over a digital one even though he wasn't of legal age to carry around a credit card of his own yet.
Throughout his new life, he had to steal, beg, borrow, and barter to survive in the city of Edtweiser. Most days, he found himself scrounging for any stomachable food scraps that were left behind in restaurants to live mildly healthy for another day. He'd sometimes run into all-you-can-eat buffets and steal a seasoned crab leg or two. Even if it was stolen, he still had a fun time since they were irresistibly gratifying with their distinctive Underdown spicy seasoning blend. Every bite left a burning sensation in both his mouth and his stomach which made him question if it was worth finishing. The answer was the same every time he asked himself - it was too delicious to stop. He could make some cheap meals such as an Astweizer-Style Chicken and Rice Casserole with a few simple ingredients from the local grocery store, but he'd rather not cook himself. He didn't know where to begin.
After breakfast had been dealt with, he'd always try to pickpocket a few unsuspecting strangers for their wallets on the streets which worked sometimes, though the nexsos he received from them were usually subpar. The Southern District of Edtweiser was quite poor and lacking flair. He could still transfer the nexsos to his card and gain a small profit from it before the account froze. Being broke truly teaches you many interesting skills you'd never expect to have before. It made Stultic feel like a child mastermind, being able to transfer funds and pickpocket those around him.
With new funds successfully transferred into his secure bank account, he'd spend the rest of his day inside watching the television. His hearing aids were growing older so it did hurt to listen to the television at the usual volume. This also made him feel dazed when he listened to the racket outside the house. It made it impossible for him to sleep soundly without hearing the divorce that was in-progress on the 15th floor of some condominium. It made his life tougher than he could've ever imagined.
This cycle of his went on repeat each day of his life up until that point. On a few occasions, he may have to go to the scrapyard a few minutes away to grab some spare parts for his hearing aids. Wires, metal, anything he could use to benefit himself. It was a heaven full of items that could be resold and reused to fit his needs. A piece of metal could make a good plate if cleaned properly.
He remember it vividly.
He walked out of the scrapyard with a few goodies all put within a small bag and went down the gray streets, taking a few more watches off of unsuspecting people's wrist, but everything got luckier when he saw a bulging pocket on the side of a Vertigal Employee. He passed the employee nonchalantly reeled in a gold-plated wallet as his reward. His precious loot seemed to be getting better and better as the days passed.
"This idiot's got loads of cards!" Stultic said, rummaging through all the contents of the wallet.
He remembered the fear he felt when he was dragged into the alleyways by the collar and brought into a chokehold. He couldn't turn for his neck would be snapped if he did. He could feel the force that was being applied towards it. He could barely breathe. That voice was something he could never forget. One of danger yet one of generosity.
"Hey! If you're gonna pickpocket someone, at least be a bit more skilled about it. Also, don't pickpocket the wrong people," a man said. "Also, don't call me an idiot. It's Mr. Brigolis to some brat like you."
Even though he seemed evil, Ashten Brigolis taught him a lot. He was the reason he became a mercenary in the first place. That day, he was given a second chance. His life had already ended once and it couldn't get worse. He spent half of his entire life being chained away in a condo room, being scolded day and night. That was what he was reminded of that day by the man who brought him to his knees. Gratefulness was the only feeling he could feel now.
He was dying and it was in two months. If he died, his life would become but a memory. Everything he had done up until then would be forgotten and wasted. The wonderful life he lived up until that point would be torn apart. He would run out of time. No more fries, no more teasing Madica, no more being a mercenary and telling off drug lords. He finally got away from his shackles, yet they came back to latch onto his arms and legs, pulling him down into the abyss once again.
Was that how he wanted to die? To know he wasted his days away while he was alive? To say goodbye to the life he forged for himself at such an age. It had only been 10 years since he found what he could do. The moment he could truly knew what he could pursue. He flew beyond those around him and gave himself a name. He made his name - Stultic - yet now when he looked back on it, what did he accomplish? What did he do to make his life worth living? He wasted it. He couldn't let his life be thrown away in a cascade of his other failures. He wanted to live his life knowing he did something good.
Nothing in his life was ever good.
That was the truth of the matter.
That was the reason he spiralled that day.
It was something that bothered him to think about. It bruised him. His ego shattered along with his pride. Panic was the only word he could describe. He could try to deny all of his worries for something more but he couldn't avoid the unconscious calls. Maybe it was the adrenaline circulating through his veins, but he knew it wailed for him. It howled from within to bring him to make the right call, but what was the right call? Was it to die? Was it to live?
Still, the biggest reason why he had to live was that he hadn't repented those who sacrificed their lives for him. The only reason he was still alive was because of the actions of those around him. Ashten, Madica, Juliรจre, his parents, and most of all, Issac.
It was time he faced the facts. If he died, all he could say was that he wasted their lives selfishly. He let them be used as pawns up until now. Was that what he wanted to do? Was that his true goal in life? Was death worth it?
No.
Was it?
It made him want to cry.
Everything spun around him.
Sickness dawned upon his face.
Time was restarting and he had no more time to think.
It was a simple answer.
Yes or no?
Yes?
No?
What would it be?
He had no more time.
His life was on the line; on a wire that would snap and break.
What was worth it?
What did his life mean to him?
That was when it clicked.
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Time restarted.
"Let's be real here. What are the odds that this guy even has a cure? He's probably some psychopathic murderer so I don't see someone like him having a cure for his own victims."
"Would you rather stay here and die on a hospital bed or have the slightest chance at survival while having a little fun?"
She did have a point. Being stuck in a hospital was a tragedy as is, let alone a prison. He hated every moment of thinking about it the more that it stayed in his mind. He wanted more than to just let himself die. He wanted to be alive. To live. To experience. To repay his debts. Even if the chances were less than one measly percent, he had to be optimistic. The one thing he had learned in life so far, was that your life can change at any moment of any day. He was the one who used to chase death away at every corner. When did he become such a sissy?
"Then it's a no," Stultic said confidently. "If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die when I'm older! I'll make sure of it."
"Hey, are you okay?" Madica asked, concerned.
"Why?"
Madica pointed to his face. He touched his cheek and was met with watery drops.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Stultic replied. " To be honest, I have a lot to live for. Makes me feel a bit nervous."
Even though Madica's cold exterior rarely changed, it was obvious that she felt relief knowing Stultic felt hopeful. Somehow, she knew it gave someone else hope.
"So, got any ideas on how to find this 'Zephoram'?" Stultic asked, fluffing the pillow behind him for additional comfort.
"This 'Zephoram' has to be of Morainian origin. If he is, there's a big fat tracker on his head and it's leading to the country of Moraine. He talks of fighting for the 'will of Moraine' so obviously, that must be his base of operations," Madica explained briefly.
"Yeah, but he was in this city a few hours ago. Who knows where he is now. He could be outside of Northern Abstrain or still in Edtweiser, waiting to finish my off," Stultic retorted.
Madica took out a phone she had inside her hospital gown. She showed the screen to Stultic and it displayed a few news articles to do with similar incidents. All of them with victims who died within two to four hours after the initial injection. Stultic looked perplexed.
"We can use this to track where Zephoram is going. It's not very accurate, but it gives us a decent chance of finding him near the area," Madica explained.
"Wel, at least that's settled! Now the hard part is getting out of this hospital... It's one big overly defended fortress now that I'm here. They've probably got every part of this hospital under some sort of surveillance. Cameras, guards, possibly tripwires if we're unlucky..."
Madica's tongue felt stuck in place. She knew the problem was around them, but she planned to avoid it until she got Stultic to agree with her. Now that he had, the plans did seem a bit thin. It would be tough to get someone as recognizable as Stultic through the hospital without any notice from the other WARDENs and the police. Suddenly, an idea clicked. She forgot that she was a WARDEN herself.
"I can get you out the door using my rank if we're sneaky about this. Could easily be done if we can cause a distraction and blackout the entire hospital. From there on, I can silently help you escape Edtweiser, but I won't be able to do much without compromising my position as a WARDEN. Once you're out of Edtweiser, you're on your own," said Madica. "Oh, and we'll need that gal in on this plan for it to succeed though. The one with the platinum blonde hair."
Stultic felt a bit skeptical about the plan, but it didn't seem half-bad. If done right, it could be successful.
"Well, I'm gonna need my weapons and my gear so new plan! Escape the hospital, get my stuff from whatever weird repository they're keeping it in, escape Edtweiser, and I'll take Zephoram down a notch," he said with his usual cocky smirk back on his face.
Madica let her mouth form one to match his just this once.
"Sounds good to me," she smiled.
"Wait... Can we even talk about this stuff? Someone's monitoring us and he or she doesn't seem to be very kind or respectful. They even shook the camera back at me to reject my love proposal!"
"Relax why don't you. I'm not an idiot, so I dealt with them beforehand and told them to take a break since the next shift would start early. People crap their pants when a WARDEN tells them to do something - even ones in hospital gown-- What do you mean they 'shook' the camera?"
Stultic's expression changed, looking at her as if she had a screw loose. "Y'know. The lens shook in denial. It was as if they were trying to speak through the camera itself."
"The security know they shouldn't be trying to communicate in any way with the target. They should easily get fired for something even as minuscule as that. Only idiots would make that mistake, but the guy on the cams was a pro. I've met him before."
The door opened with force. Gaelan had arrived with a group of officers behind him. They were all armed with rifles and shotguns.
"Sebastian Utaliski. We're sorry to say but you have been flagged for immediate execution."
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"Maybe settling down in Northern Abstrain wasn't a good idea. This abandoned factory is a pretty cheesy hideout and it doesn't function great as a workspace," Dixon stated.
"It works for now. The security is tightening and our p-presence is becoming known. We need to be prepared to move as quickly as possible to ensure success. It's more crucial than ever to secure Moraine's will."
Dixon smiled. "Say, how'd the suit work?"
Zephoram sighed and fell back into his chair. "I feel a bit dizzy after using it for a while. I should wear it in moderation since we don't know all of its features just yet. Mammoth Goliath itself m-mostly worked well. It felt a bit stiff when I moved it around and it seems a b-bit too clunky for my taste. We should probably utilize the same material due to its durability, but t-these plates have to go. I don't get how Altiser even piloted this thing efficiently all while being the first m-member of G6."
"When we found Mr. Raios, he looked weaker than a skeleton! Also, you're just being a fool! That suit's pretty interesting! I was able to study and understand most of its kinks and quirks but it's still got a TON of untapped potential!" Dixon said with eyes of wonder. "The power that resonates from that specific core is insane! It may even be magical. I think we could power an entire country with it if the lock on it would open."
Zephoram went into a formal sitting position, clicking the power button to turn on his computer. He opened a massive folder filled with schematics labelled unusual names such as Shockbuster and Magdonner. He opened the one with Fisticuff written in small text below.
"How's my arm going along, Dixon?" Zephoram asked Dixon while sipping a green apple slushie.
Dixon moaned with despair. The construction of Zephoram's new arm had only begun, but it wasn't his fault it was delayed. Zephoram was extremely picky about how he envisioned all of his works. The ideas he developed for his creations were vast, endless, and took eons to make. This made him want to make sure that his inventions were unquestionably flawless and to his exact specifications.
Dixon never liked this style of work as it seemed to dull his creative thinking, though it was no surprise that Zephoram came up with many concepts and plans which he wished to turn into masterpieces. He was an intelligent prodigy when it came to designing, but he just didn't have the mechanic skills necessary to bring his incredible, prize-winning ideas to physical fruition - not until he met him at least.
Even if Dixon sometimes loathed his job as Zephoram's engineer puppet, he couldn't forget why he even had a life to live. He never wanted to go back to working for Vertigal ever again. Those sick corporate executives with no heart or soul. They were corrupt businessmen in their entirely. Those corrupted souls must be purged.
"Zephoram!" A soothing yet bold voice called for him. She rushed through the doors.
Zephoram seemed unamused. "What do you want, Clara?"
"Turns out that Stultic guy is alive. I checked hospital footage and found out he's still kicking. Your so-called 'lethal poison' didn't work on this guy and I have documented proof."
"What? He couldn't have s-survived the poison. He should've died on that hospital bed at least an hour ago. It's probably a camera which displays faulty videos from its databank."
"No. He's alive and I was going to put a bullet in his head but I found there to be too many officers and WARDENs patrolling the hospital. I wouldn't be able to escape from that many WARDENs even if I used my Bertha, and I'm not risking the lives of my organization members nor my own life for your mistakes."
Zephoram stared with displeased eyes.
"Oh well. What a tragedy. We'll just have to find him!" Zephoram chuckled.
"Don't worry. I've already sent those WARDENs into full throttle. We won't need to deal with that pest anytime soon."
Zephoram calmed himself and sat down at his desk. "Fine, but from now on, keep your eyes peeled for that brat. If you see him alive, execute him at all costs. I too, will personally see to it that his head is spiked into a wall."
"For the will of Moraine," Dixon and Clara both said in unison before going outside.
Zephoram was left to his own devices. After a few seconds passed since they left, Zephoram took his axe and snapped the table in half. He continued to slice through the walls in a flurry of rage and hate. Retracting his axe back into its compact form, he picked up his chair and sat silently.
Utaliski, eh? The more I say it, the more it r-reminds me of something, but what? Zephoram pondered, tapping his deformed nails on his chin.
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