You know, after years of honing my common sense, if you tell me that on a random day, a random package just spawns in front of my house out of nowhere, and from inside the package, a random entity just casually tells me to embark on a fifty-year journey to save the entire humanity from an invasive alien force, whose probability of occurrence is as good as the numerical metric dimension of a hydrogen atom, I would just laugh and brush it off. That is literally the plot of a science fiction novel. Just a dream that any person can have.
Yet, this weird dream of mine has been around for a solid half a year, and it is not like I would wake up any time soon. There is a saying that in a dream, half of the brain is like a director, and the other half just watches it happening like a movie, getting surprised at the plot twists that it creates itself. But, just think of it. What an irony, is it? Even for a brain, generating such vivid content, even without prior exposure or experience, is simply a feat.
This sleep is just too long. Maybe, when I wake up, I would find my left arm strapped and plugged in with various kinds of needles that link to some nutrition packages, helplessly holding onto my fragile life. That scary scenario that I just create in my head, is the very definition of trauma. Did something hit me hard on the head and send me into such a deep and long sleep? I cannot recall. Rather, I have zero recollection.
The real me out there, if you exist, please wake up. I do not like this science fiction setting at all.
- Yuusha, stop daydreaming. We can die at any second. - A knock, accompanied by the voice, of a familiar humanoid robot snaps me back to reality.
Normally, an impact that is strong enough in one's dream would trigger a subconscious mechanism in the body that brings you back to reality, such as the feeling of falling from a cliff, or some sort. That knock on my head is strong enough to interrupt my chain of thoughts, but I am still here.
Indeed, this is not a dream. This is my life now, continuously getting put at risk like some kind of poker game.
At least, if this is not a dream, it is still an insightful reflection of my experiences so far. Let's just put them all aside for now.
As of now, after a safe landing into the boss room, we are just patrolling around, in the very dim glow of the room. Maybe there is another hidden mechanism of some sort that would bring us deeper into this dungeon...
- Haha, it has been a long time since I have a visitor here. - A mysterious voice suddenly appears out of nowhere. The tone itself is condensed with the aura of a strong Intruder, perhaps, stronger than any Intruder we have ever encountered.
- Show yourself! - Mirai raises her shotgun, firmly holding on to it, her fingers locked into the trigger, ready to press any second.
- Managing to find out our hidden factory facility and especially this final room, threatening my subordinate at the bar to the point he committed suicide, barging in as if the house is empty, and decimating our forces to almost zero. What a feat. As a reward, I will grant you two the prestige of seeing me in person.
Suddenly, all the lights in the room are switched on. Right in the centre of the room, there sits on a throne a seemingly one-point-eight metres humanoid figure. In fact, I doubt that a machine-supported and thorough inspection would be able to expose his identity. If we are unaware of the existence of aliens, there is no way to distinguish this creature here from a human.
The figure stands up from the throne, while slowly clapping, which sounds like a mock rather than a compliment.
- That is all for my introduction. Would you mind introducing yourself? - The figure talks.
- I do not care. What do you want? - Mirai points the shotgun at him.
- Come on. I am just facilitating peaceful conversations. In fact, should it be the other way round? It is you two who find me.
- Let me rephrase... Why are you and your forces coming here? - Mirai raises her shotgun again.
- And they say that negotiations always work... Sigh... If you are so eager to resort to violence, let me just get straight into the...
- You are not answering my questions. - Mirai, as short-tempered as always, fires a photon pellet shot.
A wall grows from the floor, blocking the shot right before it can even touch the boss's exterior. Right after that, my spectacles, after thorough analysis, show a number on the glass surface.
Sixty-five. Technician. These are the overall rating and the class of the boss. As the rating goes up, a seemingly low fifteen points difference makes significant differences, since the rating value doubles for every additional rating of ten. Roughly, this Intruder is almost three times stronger than a fifty rating.
- You two just leave me with no choice...
Suddenly, the ground vibrates, and the boss Intruder slowly levitates into the air. Now, this is the boss that we are talking about. Definitely not a good deal.
- Welcome to my Room of Atonement. As long as we are here, this room is fully under my control via my core chip. It is either you force yourself out of my area, which is theoretically impossible, or you destroy me along with my core chip, which is also impossible. So, how about I offer you a third choice? I will send you two to a quick and painless death.
That is also not a good deal. But by my improvised common sense theory, spitting out his own weakness like that means putting a big, big red flag on his head, which flies in the air, inviting death itself. We have a chance.
- Nope, nope, and nope. Why would I be so pathetic to resort to such a losing bargain? - I snap back at the boss Intruder.
- Well, I am just trying to be polite here. Now, bye.
The boss snaps his fingers. The snap sends waves of air blast throughout the room, enough to show his immense strength just by doing such an effortless action. Then, from two opposite sides, rows after rows of barrels protrude out of the walls, painting us with red dot light from their laser sight.
- Compact Shield! - I throw two plates onto the ground which expand into two thick shields that right after formation, immediately block off all bullets that come at us.
After the rain of projectiles stops, we make our retaliation. Mirai and I split into two opposite directions, trying to attack him rapidly.
- Aerial Squadron I, charge! - Mirai shouts, then snaps her fingers.
Some of her action patterns are synchronised with the archive, so as soon as she completes the pattern chain, a team full of disposable units like Suicide Drones and Archer Drones appears on top of the boss, attacking him from above.
Of course, the sixty-five rating is not simply a number for aesthetic purposes. The boss controls the motion of the room with his core chip. Two portions on the wall randomly fly towards each other, smashing almost a third of the aerial units, and the damage could have been worse if Mirai does not command them to change course.
- That is a smart strategy, considering they are likely all you have. - The calm boss closes his eyes and nods in agreement, as though nothing happened, or they are just too insignificant for him.
- You forgot me, isn't it?
While the boss is looking away for a moment as short as a few seconds, I have quickly swapped my photon shotgun with a laser greatsword and embraced the opportunity to charge towards his core.
- Not so fast, my friend. - He just makes a half smile, then with a superhuman reaction speed, he snaps his fingers.
Simultaneously, some portions of the side walls break into several one-metre cubes and fly at me. With the propelled rollerblade equipped, I blast myself to a slightly higher altitude, landing and sliding between blocks while dodging the others. Then, I make jumps to leap to right above the boss's head and spin myself to propel downwards.
- Do not think that those lousy attacks can slow us down.
- That is no doubt an amazing skill right there, but the cubes are just for distraction purposes.
- Huh?
As if he anticipates my upward leap and direct downward plunge, the boss flies backward. Right in front of me at the moment is not its unprotected head with the core chip inside, but sharp thorns that grow from the floor where he just levitates above, accelerating at me.
There is insufficient time to react. Screw it...