101 A Small Sacrifice For The Future

It was very small, but I could sense it. Inside the body of the little girl I was holding now, lying dormant, was a seed of catastrophe, lying dormant, waiting to take over her this little girl.

It was then that I recalled the third installment of the game, The 3rd Birthday. Although it didn't get enough love as its predecessors, the game was, in a way, quite enjoyable with a bitter-sweet ending. Some would say it killed the franchise, but back then I was too happy to see my favorite characters on the screen after such a long time.

I clearly remembered how the story began, it was December 24th, 2010, in New York City, a city where every apocalypse level disaster was a common occurrence in this place.

The city was torn apart by a strange organic tree-like structure that emerged from underground, which was later dubbed the "Babel". Roots twisted up out of the ground destroying everything in their way. After the Babel had risen, masses of hideous creatures slaughtered thousands of people in the city. 3 million people died in a single night, maybe more, and it wouldn't stop until all humanity perished.

However, the real story of The 3rd Birthday began two years prior to the appearance of the Babel. It was December 24th, 2010, on the wedding day of Aya Brea, she and her groom, Kyle Maddigan, were killed by paramilitary soldiers, causing Eve to go berserk and took over Aya's body, all the while losing her memories.

(A/N: Kyle Maddigan: the role that Chris replaced in this world.)

If I was to kill her now, I would prevent that future from ever happening, and saved her from the pain she would bear both from the past and future. Unaware, my hand was reaching onto her neck. With my current power, snapping her unblemished neck would be as easy as cracking my own bones.

[It wouldn't solve anything, Sir. The future you're thinking about hasn't existed yet.] warned Regina. My hand immediately stopped.

"Shut up, David Blaine. Stop reading my minds." I replied. "The future might be different from what I know, but there's no harm in eliminating the extra threat."

[But could you do that after looking at her properly?]

As if on her instruction, the black Limbo butterfly that had been covering her face fluttered away, revealing the pure face of the little girl. She was half-conscious. Her extensive use of power exhausted her so much. Eve's body was hot like a flaming pot.

'It seems my resolution was a bit too extreme this time,' I thought inside my heart. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle, "That was pretty uncool of me, right?"

[Don't worry, Sir. No matter what you do, you will always be cool to me.] said, Regina.

Somehow, it relieved my heart, knowing that someone would put me that high on the pedestal even when I was attempting to kill an innocent child. It didn't matter even if the one that said was just an AI existing only in my mind.

Diverting the topic, I teased her., "Wooah, you're really good at bootlicking."

[Should I kowtow as well, Sir?]

"You jest. It's not a Chinese novel."

Number 9 who was observing me for a while, was rendered speechless. My sudden appearance just messed up his plan to take Eve with him. And not only that, after cutting off his hand, I started spacing out and talked to the air. It seemed my lighthearted 'monologue' offended him dearly.

"How did you get here!?", said Number 9 putting up his guard. Entering the upper Shelter might have been easy, but the inner Shelter was heavily reinforced. Forcing his way in should be impossible without destroying the two generators outside without alerting him.

Number 9 waited for my response to his question. However, I was too busy checking up for Eve's wound and the abnormalities on her current condition, especially that now she was much younger than the one in the game.

'Could it be one of my unintended actions caused her to be like this?' I wondered. Or maybe because of some external cause, like the existence of the other 'Universe'. The latter was much more plausible if we saw how much the future had diverted since a year ago.

"Are you ignoring me now!? You... and your arrogance!" yelled Number 9, igniting the gunblade in his left hand and charging at me. My silence might have triggered some unhappy memories inside his head. Maybe his married life was less than satisfactory.

As Number 9 reached my spot, he swung his gunblade downward at me, I hugged little Eve closer before moving my right foot behind and turning my body 90 degrees to the right. The blade passed right in front of my face and the heat warmed my cold mask as a notification I was waiting for appeared out of thin air.

<Error! The Quest progress has been accelerated.>

<Reward: 3 Level-Up points, 1 S-Rank Ability, 1 S-Grade Item.>

"Oho, did the system read my inner thought?" I muttered while jumping away from Number 9's reach.

[It might be possible, Sir. The system is, after all, part of his power,] replied Regina.

"Are you allowed to talk about your boss now?" I asked, putting down little Eve that was slowly deprived into a deep sleep.

[As long as it's within the boundaries, Sir.]

"Very well," I replied before turning around and swinging my right hand, "Piston Punch!"

Bammm!

A powerful hook dove into the charging Number 9's stomach. He couldn't even do anything as pain shook his brain and innards, before flying to the other end of the wall. Lucky for him, his regeneration power allowed him to recover both from the pain and the wound I caused to him. Although his severed right hand still needed a few hours before fully regenerating.

"I have a proposition," I announced toward Number 9 who was trying to regain himself.

"What the fuck are you doing!?", yelled number 9 at his minions who were watching from afar. He then pointed at me and growl, "Attack him!"

"Wrong answer," I muttered before slinging my M4A1 rifle to my arm. I extended my left arm and muttered "Firaga."

Three tennis ball-sized orb of fire whirled toward the approaching GOLEMs, decimating their already dwindling numbers. Their bodies burn into crisp as their muffled screaming echoed through the facilities.

As the surrounding walls and floors shook from the explosions, those that could stand their grounds started to fall one by one from the barrage of bullets I fired. None could move even a step closer toward me anymore.

Without even a trace of empathy for his dying subordinate, Number 9 aimed for my neck, slashing horizontally. I ducked and pummeled his stomach using the butt of my rifle. I lightly stomp on his left foot, and using the palm of my hand slammed his head to the cold metal floor.

Aiming the muzzle of my rifle on his head, I once again announced, "I have a proposition. Do you wanna hear it?"

Number 9 had no more cards hidden inside his sleeve. He glanced toward the GOLEMs he commanded, some were still burning under the ferocious heat, others were riddled with holes on their vital spot. He could summon more of them if he wanted to, but clearly, numbers were not the solution he needed right now.

"Fine... Let's hear it," he replied, meekly.

===°°°°===

At the same time. White House, Washington, D.C.

Nick Fury was pacing back and forth in front of the President's office. He was nervous because something bad was currently transpiring inside. Regardless of his motive, he couldn't just barge in however he wants.

"Mr. Director, you need to calm down. Everything would be fine," said Phil Coulson, who was standing nearby while looking at his ticking watch. It had been 15 minutes since that man went in, it was about time for him to come out.

"How can I be, he is inside. Whatever decision they made in it, it wouldn't do any good for all of us," replied Nick. He wasn't exaggerating. Although it was highly classified, nothing could be hidden from that man, and that man also despised S.H.I.E.L.D. ever since he learned about the organization, "Might as well made him the President if everyone is going to follow his orders in the end."

"Sir..." said Phil, his eyes was glancing at the secret service agents standing at the exit.

Phil tried to hush his Boss's extreme remarks as there were a lot of eyes and ears in the place they were in currently. Even if it was the Director of SHIELD speaking, he would still be charged with slander if it ever reached their opposition's ears.

"So what? Let them hear it. Let them know what they did wrong." said Nick, confidently. He wasn't being reckless. He knew what he was doing. Even if the leader of the world came barging into his house, he wouldn't be shaken.

Returning to the topic at hand, the man that Phil and Nick referring to was the current leader of the so-called secret organization called The Family, Derek C. Simmons who was crowned earlier this day. To prove his capability, he would do anything without regard to public safety if it was for The Family's cause. Although this time, no one knew why he suddenly felt the need to involve himself with the resurfacing case of NMCs attack in LA, not even Nick Fury.

Nick Fury's pace suddenly halted as he heard footsteps coming closer toward the exit from within the President's office. It seemed, the discussion had just finished. As the door opened, Nick Fury saw the smug smile on Simmons's face.

'This is bad. Really, really bad,' he thought.

Simmons didn't notice that Nick Fury was there. He was too reveled in satisfaction knowing that his goal was already achieved. There was no need to stay in the White House anymore.

Once he disappeared, Nick immediately went in without waiting for the President's secretary to let him in.

"Mr. President!" called Nick Fury.

Watching the expression on Nick's face, he simply let out a sigh and said, "I know what you want to ask. But this time, can you not involve yourself in this?"

"What do you mean don't involve me? I'm already neck-deep inside the quicksand. No offense, Sir, but you better say something good to convince me." said Nick.

"The Neo-Mitochondria case, how's the progress going?"

"My agent has already infiltrated the main facility. Everything's under control. There's nothing to worry about."

"How sure are you?" he questioned.

"90%" replied nick, optimistically.

"You really are confident in this agent of yours, aren't you?"

"Now that I already answered your question, it's my turn. What did that guy want to from seeking you in your office?"

"Mr. Simmons, he gave me a choice." answered, the President. While watching the rising sunrise on the horizon, he continued, "Do you know how many people lived in this country.?"

"Mr. President!" snapped Nick Fury. m

Ignoring Nick's agitation, the President continued unabated, "279 million people. Not even 0.1% of them know that their fate was in the balance. Some were too busy worrying about the increasing life cost in our country, others were worried about who to take to prom night. None of them know that their clock was ticking."

"And your solution to that is?"

"A decisive strike from the orbit could solve our problem in a split-second. Although there was not much time for your agent to withdraw, he would be buried in Arlington National Cemetery as a proud hero of our country."

Nick's expression turned grim, "And to be forgotten."

"A necessary sacrifice for humanity's future."

"A future with unnecessary bloodshed is not what these citizens' wanted."

"As long as people lived, they wouldn't care for the life that had been shed. We already have millenniums of history behind us as an example." replied the President. No matter what Nick threw to him, he wouldn't budge. "I'm sorry, but the call has been made. You better hurry and warn him."

Without saying another word, Nick turned around and walked toward the exit. Agent Coulson who had been eavesdropping on their conversation immediately sent his subordinate to contact Edward as well as making early preparation if everything went south.

Before the door was closed, the President asked one last question to him, "Director Fury, this agent of yours. How much do you think he could do for our future?"

"A lot more compared to some old men hiding behind their table."

As the door shut the President started to question his choice. However, even if it was hard, it was his duty to make the choice.

While watching people walking on the sidewalk under the morning sun over the White House's fences, he grasped the top of his chair and mumbled, "Really, I am too old for this."

===°°°°===

'So this is Brahman. It's much bigger than I thought.'

While holding the sleeping Eve in my arms, Number 9 led us deep inside the facility. We were now inside the main reactor, where a gigantic cocoon of the last boss, Brahman was sleeping. Well, not really sleeping, it just needed one last ingredient to complete its metamorphosis and I know who it is.

Looking around, we were inside a cylindrical space, wide enough to contain half of the space with a 100 meters sized cocoon. We were standing on a bridge that directly faced the opening of the cocoon. It seemed this was where Number 9 wanted to throw Eve into. He believed that Mitochondria Eve would awaken this way. While it was true, I won't let him see the light of it.

"Now, give me the Queen." requested Number 9. I told him that I was interested in what he was trying to do to little Eve. Knowing that he was already defeated, he simply agreed while wishing that I was oblivious to what he was trying to do.

I smirked and started teasing him, "What are you, a Tier-3 sub? Why don't you ask for her feet pict as well?"

Confused by my remarks, he muttered, "What's a Tier-3 sub?"

"Forget it, you won't get it."

I looked for a nice spot, at the edge of the bridge where I could see her from any vantage point.

"What are you doing?" Number 9 had a bad premonition, he knew I was not going to comply with his request. He already expected it, but not this early. He hadn't fully controlled Brahman yet.

I suddenly vanished into a cloud of smoke and appeared behind him a moment later, I whispered, "This thing over here, you want to awaken him, right? Then, do it yourself."

"You...!", before Number 9 could say anything, my hand already grasped his limping leg. As Brahman's tentacle coming close, I threw him toward it. The reaction was quite expected. Number 9 was immediately swallowed without any resistance. There was only a muffled scream of a dying man, 'ex-man' if I must say.

I then started chanting, "With a mixture of sugar, spice, and everything nice. These were the ingredients chosen to create perfect little gi– I mean creature. But, Professor Edward accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction..."

As I delivered the famous opening speech from a certain cartoon, I hold both of my hands up high.

"Firaga!"

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