After what felt like a nap of the decade, the alarm went off, and I slowly woke up, first thing on the agenda was training, although I didn't know how to do it, at least I would try to do something, it shouldn't be that hard right? Although all of this was to get my mind off the past.
Getting up from bed I took a look at my phone, there was only the message from yesterday, although I didn't know what it was about I had a bad feeling about it.
As I opened the message, I was requested a password, so firstly I tried my real-world password, which obviously didn't work but after checking around the room I found an encrypted posted note. How did I know it was an encryption? That's simple, I use the same encryption, and I recognized it. I use it because I have trust issues and like to leave post-it notes in my room with passwords, so I encrypt them so only I know what the passwords are, to random people it may look like a message like "Take out the trash tomorrow when you wake up" but to me, it's an encrypted message. Although I never thought this skill would ever be useful.
After cracking the encryption which took 3 minutes I got a string of letters and numbers, I typed that into the phone and got in the message, which was a file containing plans, and other things about the mission, the plan, the layout, the number of troops, everything.
It seemed as though there was someone from the inside that got us that info, I was happy about that, and it seemed that I wouldn't die as the mission was simple, and not as dangerous as I thought, but still, I was worried even if the danger level was low. Something felt wrong, I just couldn't think of what could be wrong.
As I quickly look through the information, I decide that it's probably time I go out.
Going out of the building, I could help but remark that the base looked like any average military base, there was nothing interesting to look at, and it felt boring.
After doing all the required things like roll-call and meetings where I said and did nothing in line with 'my' character, I finally made my way to the gun range. I was curious to know how to shoot and test how the skill [Combat Sense] worked. The skill stated that I was experienced in most forms of combat and instinctually knew how to fight and use weapons, even though I had never actually fought with anyone in my past life.
[Combat Sense Level 3]:
[Strength: +7 points
Agility: +5 points
Endurance: +3 points
Explanation: Your combat instincts have continued to improve, allowing you to tap into greater reserves of physical strength and endurance. You are able to sense danger before it happens, and your reflexes are lightning-fast. You are experienced in most forms of combat and instinctually know how to fight and use weapons.
When in Combat you gain a +3% increase in all physical attributes (Strength, Agility, Endurance) and a +13.75% increase in accuracy with most weapons.]
I went to the shooting range and got a Glock 19. I first tried setting the difficulty setting to medium, and not moving. When I picked up a gun, I instinctually felt where I needed to aim to get a perfect shot, it felt like having a laser sight on my weapon, I knew where the bullet would hit if I shot, the feeling was like my subconscious knew that if I shot I hit. Playing with it a bit more, I found out that it was more like a game of hot and cold the more confident I felt in my shot the more accurate it was.
Disqualifying my first test shots I began shooting, I hit all my 20 shots perfectly, with no mistakes. I couldn't help but notice that my accuracy increased with my agility. It was like the more I shot, the more I was able to predict where and how I should shoot and adjust my aim accordingly. it was like I was being thought by my subconscious about how to shoot. I later found out that agility plays a significant role in accuracy. With this newfound knowledge I wanted to see how far I could currently go, I upped the difficulty to the maximum, which made the target move from left to right, at different speeds. Apparently, the difficulty is for experts, most couldn't hit more than 3 shots, and I meant to hit it as in pierce through the cardboard, not hit the center.
Now shooting became quite hard my instincts couldn't keep up with the target, and while I still knew where I should shoot to hit it I wasn't 100% sure I would accurately hit.
As I aimed down the sights and pulled the trigger, the recoil jolted through my arm. Only about half of my shots hit the target, and of those, only a few pierced through the cardboard in the center. I knew I had some room for improvement, but I couldn't deny the feeling of exhilaration that came with hitting my mark. While I still had some work to do, I was pleased with my shooting abilities and skill, but I knew that if I actually knew how to shoot I would have probably hit more shots.
My shooting skills quickly drew the attention of the recruits watching me. It seemed my skills were on par with veteran officers. I had intentionally changed my style to suit my personal preferences which made me look different than before. After a while, someone in the back recognized me, and the whispers quickly spread through the crowd.
"I think that's Officer Isaac," someone said.
"Really? He does look like him," another replied, surprised but quickly regaining composure.
I couldn't help but overhear some other comments, such as "He looks more handsome than usual" from what I assumed was a fan girl, which surprised me more. And then, there was the typical teasing, like "He actually shaved. John, where's my five bucks?" It stung a little that my other self didn't care about hygiene, but I tried not to let it bother me, 'It isn't as if I don't shave, it's the other me that doesn't'.
After a while, I left the range and headed to the camp's psychologist, as I had an idea. Seeing as though I 'regained my memories', I would try to get discharged through having a mental disability, even though I had the ability to complete the mission and would probably get some XP and SP, I would rather try to live peacefully than to risk my life, in an unpredictable battleground.
Upon arriving at the psychologist's office, Isaac was greeted by a friendly-looking woman in her mid-40s. She asked him to take a seat and began to explain the tests that would be conducted.
The first test was a series of memory recall exercises, which Isaac found relatively easy. Next, he was asked to complete a spatial reasoning test. This proved to be a bit more challenging, but Isaac was able to solve all the problems eventually.
Finally, the psychologist administered a personality test to assess whether Isaac had any underlying mental disorders that could be considered for discharge. Isaac felt a bit nervous, but he tried to remain honest and open in his answers.
After the tests were complete, the psychologist reviewed the results. She confirmed that he did not have any signs of a mental disability. However, she also expressed concern about his desire to be discharged and urged him to reconsider, citing the potential benefits of staying in the military.
"Are you sure you won't reconsider? Although dangerous with your talents you could become a super." The psychologist tried to make me reconsider, but I refused.
"No, I have someone I need to find." I lied, and although it's the only lie I told, I needed to be consistent with my story.
"I understand your desire to find someone," the psychologist said, "but have you considered the impact your decision could have on your fellow soldiers? You possess skills that could greatly benefit the safety of our troops."
I sighed. "I've thought about it, but I just can't bear the thought of not knowing what happened to her."
The psychologist nodded. "I understand your concerns, but I hope you realize that you are a valuable asset to our team. If you change your mind, there may be opportunities for you to use your abilities in a way that suits your needs and concerns. Especially with your talent, the higher-ups may even turn you into a super."
"Sigh... Alright, I'll send the document, although it depends on the higher-ups on the final decision, they can forcefully keep you here if they refuse," She seemed to be hinting that I wouldn't be discharged and I somewhat knew that it wouldn't work, especially with how valuable soldiers were becoming, but I still held on hope.
I thanked the psychologist for her understanding and left the office, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Despite the potential consequences, I knew deep down that I had made the right choice.
___________________
Author note
Why don't they (anyone who knows that he remembers his past but not present) just say that the 'wife' probably died? (assuming that so many people died in the war approx 3 billion)
Whelp that's because that's a horrible thing to say to somebody and its demotivating resulting in worse performance, and a happy/hopeful solder is better than a sad one