4 Chapter 4

Frantically, Luke searched all around, wondering how anyone could have gotten past senses honed for decades.

It took him a moment to realize that the voice had come from inside his head, not from somewhere nearby. "Who…was that?" He asked hesitantly, feeling every bit like a mad fool who was hearing voices in his head and was convinced that he wasn't crazy.

"I am D.A.I.N! Short for Domination Assistant and Inter-cosmic Nexus. It is nice to meet you! I would shake your hand, but alas, I am confined to your soul."

Luke just continued to lay on the floor and digest what he was hearing. The voice belonged to a middle-aged man who had seen one too many fantasy movies or read too many books of the genre. The way he spoke exuded a certain grandness that was usually associated with the ministers or advisors of Kings. The only reason he knew this was that one of his pastimes had been studying up on past rulers, mainly because the idea of so much power residing in one hand had been so alluring that he even spent thousands of dollars on relics that belonged to long-dead kings and emperors.

If he'd just woken up in this world, the idea of a disembodied voice in his head might have freaked him out, but he'd already come to terms with such a voice already ripping him away from his world. Grimacing and checking his chest for signs of broken ribs, he got to his feet.

"Shoot. Tell me everything. What you are, what is happening here, what is expected of me, why I was chosen, and most importantly, what the fuck I can do to get back to my life," he said under his breath, not wanting anyone outside to hear him talking aloud and deciding that he was crazy after all.

"Certainly, Sir! I exist to help you reach your goal. Right now, the target is the city we are in. You already know what is expected of you. You must rule or die. There is no better way to put it. I'm afraid that the answers to the rest of your questions are locked. Worry not! Your accomplishments will unlock such information. I can tell you this, however, and we are told to make sure that each and every World Dominator knows this at the onset. It is not just death that awaits you if you fail. Endless damnation and torture that you cannot even imagine will be inflicted if a Dominator is found to be unworthy of that name. You will be tortured, healed, killed, reborn, tormented and broken, on and on and on until the end of time."

Luke shivered. He'd always had an over reactive imagination, so he could imagine himself stuck in such a place. Another part of his world had just been overturned. He'd always been a firm believer that there was no afterlife or God. Now, he had just found out that there was a hell, and he was headed right for it if he failed.

"But why me?" He roared, feeling his blood heat up. The unfairness of the situation brought up buried memories, reminding him of exactly how he had felt when he'd been left on the streets when he was just a child.

He had worked so hard to get to where he'd been. He had finally started to unwind and truly enjoy life, but he'd have to start from the bottom here, again.

There was also the matter of his family. That reporter had been right; he'd been searching for them for so long. It was their memories that had gotten him through many of the tough times in his life, and all he'd wanted was to get to know them and feel truly happy for once in his life, just like he had before his deadbeat father had decided that it was better if he wasn't part of the family.

If he'd been in control of his emotions, he would never have admitted this as his position did not give him the luxury of having even a single weakness. It was the simple truth, though, that he had been finally looking forward to letting someone into his heart, but now…

'Fuck!'

Hitting the wall with as much strength as he could muster, he screamed wordlessly. All he wanted to do was find whoever that stupid voice belonged to and tell them precisely what he thought about this 'Rule or Die' thing, but as that wasn't an option, his anger automatically redirected itself to the target within his reach.

"Fuck you! Why should I become your puppet? If there's one thing I hate in my life, it's being under someone's thumb. I'm the type who would rather starve than eat if someone was forcing me to! Get out of here with that lame name and that irritating, pathetic voice."

Forgetting his earlier caution completely, he let loose. After a few seconds, he cursed, wondering whether that nurse would march back in, but even after waiting for a minute, no footsteps sounded outside the door, so it seemed that luck had helped him out.

'Dammit, control yourself!'

Shouting at himself, he hit the wall again, but this time, he used the pain to distract himself from his roiling thoughts. Taking deep breaths, he calmed down, and when he was finally in control of his mind, he started laughing.

'Oh, look at me, I was a gang leader, and I'm adjusting so well here! Heh, pathetic.'

"Hey? You still there?" He asked when the laughter subsided.

"Yes," the voice replied, but there was a definite sulkiness to it.

'He's hurt? Motherfucker, I'm the one who should…!'

Another punch did the trick. "I took my anger out on you, ok? It was nothing personal," he said in a completely normal voice, sitting back on the bed and nursing his bruised hands.

"Ah, then it's all right! I was told that Dominators are prone to emotional outbursts. They even warned me to be careful and not let slip that it's my first…"

The voice stilled, and Luke could swear he heard a nervous gulp in his head.

"Your first? Is this your first time? Didn't you tell that story before, pretending that you're an old hand at this? You were lying?" Luke demanded, his voice rising again.

He forced down the redness the threatened to film over his eyes again, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. After he'd admitted that he had been wrong, that same childlike innocent joy that he'd heard in the beginning had returned, making it evident that his earlier assessment about the speaker being middle-aged was definitely wrong. Here was even more proof. A low whimper he heard gave him the answer to his question, and he was tempted to make the bruises on his hands bleed.

'Great. Just great! So it wasn't enough that I was pulled into this shit. I also had to draw the shortest straw!'

He fumed, but he didn't make the mistake of shouting at the voice again. Instead, he chose the tactic that he tended to favor when dealing with children, or childish people in general.

He lied.

"Look, it's alright, I'm not mad. Just because it's your first time, it doesn't mean that something is wrong! You must have been trained or something, right? Right? Oh, for fuck's sake, say yes."

"Yes, sir, of course!" The voice replied after a pause, perking up noticeably. "I aced each and every one. I was the best in my class! I was also the most diligent student. I talked to all of my seniors so that I could help the Dominator I was assigned to in the best way possible. The others mocked me, saying that our job is just to do the minimum and wait for our sentence to complete, but…oh, horsegentry!"

Luke was smiling by the time the voice shut itself up.

'I was wrong. I was so wrong! This might actually be a blessing!'

He could tell that this was something else that he wasn't supposed to know. So this voice belonged to someone who was serving out some sort of sentence? He wanted to know more, hungry to fill out all the blanks regarding his situation, but he suspected that it might be best to wait.

"Don't sweat it. We are both fine, so you didn't do anything wrong. It's okay. You can tell me everything. Who are you? Where are you from? Who put you in my head?" He asked when the kindest tone he could muster.

'Come on, let this work…'

A weak snort of nervous laughter sounded in his head. "It's definitely not okay, sir. I will be punished before my next assignment if this goes on. But then again, maybe you will… No! I won't do it again! I'm implementing a self-checking algorithm. Everything I say will be read back to me, first, before you hear it. And I'm afraid even my clumsiness will not help you in finding the answer to that last question, sir. All of that information is guarded so tightly that merely thinking of answering you will deactivate me."

Luke shook his head with irritation. He had been on the cusp of coaxing out all the stuff he wasn't supposed to know, but it looked like there wouldn't be a repeat of what had just happened.

Sighing, he leaned back and winced as the movement made his abdomen hurt. Now that the anger and even his ploys to cheat out information were behind him, he recalled what the voice had said after that nurse had kicked him into the ground.

"So what can you do? And what do I call you?"

"You can call me Dain, sir. My future capabilities are also hidden. Right now, I am like a secondary presence in your head that does not need to eat, sleep, or drink. Your senses are always available to me, so even if you are unconscious, I can log what is happening around you and tell you after you are awake. That is how I know your name, and a few things about this world. I see that your former world is Earth, Sir, so this might help you understand: I am like a talking computer, meaning I can carry out computations. I also have the ability to amplify your senses temporarily if you wish. Finally, I can also take control of your body for you. How you use these abilities of mine is up to you. At this stage, it is recommended that I tell you how I work: I cannot create something out of nothing. I exist to facilitate bridges between, and bridges over. That is all."

That last part had an archaic feel to it, mainly because it made no sense. He remarked on the same, and Dain sighed.

"It is a mantra, of sorts, sir. At this point, many others gloat, because apparently, there are different types of D.A.I.Ns. The non-sentient ones come in the form of systems that can be accessed via thought. It is not certain whether having a sentient D.A.I.N is beneficial to a mission, but my peers seem to believe that this is so…"

Luke nodded, devouring everything that he was hearing. He was learning so much, and all he wanted to do was sit and think about everything he had just heard, but a knock on the door interrupted this plan.

Before he could move, it opened. A tall man with a haughty fate stepped in, wearing a velvet coat, grey pants, and a white shirt. He was at least thirty years old, with slicked-back blonde hair that immediately made Luke label him as a douche.

On the sleeves of his coat, golden insignia glittered. His head was up in the air as if there was shit at his feet and he had to keep his nose as high up as possible. As he fully stepped into the room, the maroon cape fixed on his shoulders and trailing on the floor behind him came into view, and Luke could only stare at it.

A small smile played on the guy's lips. He regarded Luke with mild interest, and then, a deep voice echoed in the room.

"You are in the presence of Lord Whitmore. Kneel, and receive your reward for fighting so bravely."

The speaker, a muscular baldie wearing a grey shirt and pants walked in behind Mr. Feet in Shit. The two of them waited, fully expecting him to follow the instruction, but Luke didn't move.

'Why should I kneel? True, I bowed my head when I had to before, but I promised myself I was past that!'

Surprisingly, neither of them looked too offended even after it became clear that he wasn't going to play ball. The haughty guy nodded at the baldie, and in a flash, the latter was beside him, moving so quickly that he blurred.

"Damn shellshocked soldiers," he muttered, and an unyielding force slammed into Luke's back.

He fell forward and off of the bed, his hands coming up to support him automatically. The result was that he was on the floor, on his knees, with his hands propping him up, and when something touched his head and patted twice, heat crept up his neck and into his face, making his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Good job. We value your service. You have one week off. Your meals are paid for."

The two walked out before he had a chance to do anything. As the door slammed behind them, Luke looked up, his face a rictus of rage.

"Sir, I think it would have been smarter to kneel. You are weak here, after all, and we are told to suggest that things like ego should be swallowed, at least at the beginning."

A snarl escaped Luke as he heard Dain in his head. A part of him shouted that he should listen and do the logical thing, but he'd learned to ignore it long ago.

"There's something you need to know about me, Dain. I hate bending my head. You never know if you might even get up from that position. Maybe you're placing your head in a guillotine by doing so. Or maybe you get patted like you're a good little dog, and that makes you want to jump out the window and die. Either way, I hate doing it, and when someone makes me do something I hate…I get payback. Doesn't matter if it takes a minute, a year, or a decade. I. Do. Not. Forget. And I definitely do not forgive. Let's go see which one it's going to be."