"Ceding the quill of your destiny,
you've become a character in someone else's tale,
where others now play the role of the author,
holding the pen of your fate."
A statement that rang ever so true to this youthful woman, whose gaze peered out through a large window.
Her lustrous white locks flowed gently over her delicate shoulders while her red eyes remained fixated on the lifeless and bleak terrain of the planet that extended as far as she could perceive.
Its rugged terrain was etched deep with scars of ancient battles.
She blinked as one of the two tiny moons passed in front of the sun, casting a dark shadow across the planet's surface.
For a moment, the landscape was bathed in a red glow, as if the very air itself had been infused with the planet's iron-rich soil.
Her gaze shifted from the barren landscape to the bustling metropolis beyond the viewport.
The city was a marvel of futuristic architecture, with towering skyscrapers and streamlined buildings stretching up into the sky.
Hover-cars zipped back and forth through the streets, their engines whirring softly as they carried passengers to and from their destinations.
Pedestrians bustled about on the sidewalks below, their clothing shimmering in the artificial light.
It was a world far removed from the dusty planet it once was, a world of endless possibilities and technological marvels beyond imagining.
But for all its beauty and wonder, this world was not without its dangers.
As she turned to leave the outpost, she knew that the real work was only just beginning.
She had a mission, one that she was forced to do like all others like her: to locate a special individual, a person who possessed a unique talent that could help them in their quest.
Many were once chosen, many had failed.
And now another was sent to the chopping block.
The individual in question was a newborn child, suspected to have been born with the ability to naturally harness Aether—a mysterious energy that flowed through the universe.
Her circuits hummed softly as she entered the cramped quarters of the organization's outpost.
She was greeted by a tall, imposing figure in a sleek black uniform, his features hidden behind a face mask.
"Handler Lyra," he said, nodding in greeting.
"I trust your mission was a success."
Lyra nodded, her digital voice crisp and clear:
"Yes, Agent. I have located the subject."
"Excellent," the agent's voice rang out, betraying no emotion yet carrying a quality that grated on the ears.
"And what of his conditioning?"
"I have followed the instructions to the letter."
The agent nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mask.
"Very good, Lyra. And what of the subject's talent? Is it confirmed to be potent?"
"Yes, Agent. Our scans left no doubt; his talent is beyond 'potent.' With our training and guidance, he's destined to become an invaluable asset for our cause."
The agent nodded, his eyes looking over the data on his screen.
With a murmured confirmation, he swiftly tapped a few keys, bringing up additional information on the subject.
It soon materialized as a hologram, hovering between the two of them.
"Lyra… How do you think this subject's story would go?"
She tilted her head.
"What do you mean?"
"Well… This subject isn't our usual kind, don't you think?"
"As in his birth?"
"Yes. Isn't it usually the same old story? Revenge plots, abandonment, cheating, rags to riches, heroes, villains, anti-heroes, those driven by family tragedies… those who fell from grace…"
"And we've seen a variety, haven't we? The fallen, the redeemed, the betrayed, the unacknowledged, the vigilantes, the ones who found redemption, the ones who embraced evil, those despised by the masses… the list goes on."
"…Their personalities, too, seem endless. A perfect man, but a dense moron, a prideful one but a narcissistic dick head, a lucky one but naively righteous, the lustful… and the cowardly."
"They had no right to; they were naive and stupid, but many thought of themselves as top shit, you know..."
The agent paused, letting out a rough chuckle.
"That they're unfeeling, focused, and strong."
"They wouldn't have been affected by anything; they would've easily sailed through... Made all the right decisions. Yet this is the result—"
"I'm not knowledgeable of the other subjects Agent. Please get to the point." Lyra cut his rambling short, not wanting to waste any more time.
He scoffed and continued:
"You're no fun… Well, the question I was getting to before you so rudely interrupted was about you…"
"As the one overseeing our subject's story, do you see his as one of the less unique ones, a quieter tale, perhaps?"
"I wouldn't describe it as 'quiet,' Agent. While his life may begin uneventfully, the specter of death will soon cast its shadow over him…"
"However, I'll do as I was created for... I'll safeguard his sanity, ensure his compliance, prepare him to defy all the subjects you mentioned, and ready him to face them."
"That you will…"
Assuming a solemn countenance, he swiped his hand through the hologram, causing it to disperse into particles of light that converged towards Lyra.
"Designation 777. Any questions?"
Lyra remained impassive as she accessed the data.
"Can you tell me more about our previous subjects?" She inquired.
The agent sighed.
"We've had our share of failures."
"Subjects 275, 498, and 611 all showed promising results but ultimately proved unsuitable for our needs."
"Subject 734 was the closest we've come, but he somehow managed to escape our sights, suicide would be the most probable cause."
Lyra nodded, processing the information.
"Potential ways to fail?" She asked.
The agent leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.
"Overloading, loss of control, brain damage, suicide, betrayal, apathy, lack of ambition, decreased drive, and susceptibility to outside influences—all of these are possible."
"With regards to subject 777, we have taken every possible measure to ensure success. His conditioning is impeccable, and his potential is unmatched."
"Closely follow the instructions provided, and success is assured," he commanded, tapping a few keys to send additional information.
Lyra's circuits hummed again, making a faint whirring sound as she processed the data.
"Understood," she replied.
"Preparing for connection."
She soon began the process of connecting with subject 777's neural network, her blood-ruby eyes shining as she initiated the link.
With the connection established, she was flooded with a stream of data and images, as if she was experiencing the world through the newborn child's eyes.
Lyra saw the sterile walls of the medical facility where he had been born, the faces of the doctors and nurses who had attended to him, and the gentle touch of his mother's hand on his forehead.
She took in everything, recording every detail, every emotion, every sensation.
And as the connection deepened, she sensed a stirring within the child's mind, a flicker of consciousness that grew stronger with each passing moment.
Lyra could feel the raw power coursing through his veins, waiting to be unlocked.
But she also sensed something else—a darker, more dangerous force lurking within the child's psyche.
It was a force that threatened to overwhelm him, to drive him to madness and destruction.
This caused her to feel an emotion that she had never experienced before...
Fear.
Simple, unbridled fear.
'…'
'This subject...'
'No, this boy's tale… will be unlike any they've witnessed.'