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DATE:9th of August, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The nightmare began like a distorted memory, one that played out differently but carried the same weight. I stood frozen, back at my wedding, a scene I hadn't dared to revisit in years.
My wife was there, clutching her bouquet. The soft hum of the wedding march filled the air, but it sounded warped, like a tape degrading. She raised her arm, ready to throw the bouquet over her shoulder, her face serene, almost doll-like.
This was the moment I had originally pulled out my machine pistol. The moment I turned that church into a slaughterhouse.
But in the nightmare, she knew.
Before I could reach for my weapon, she grabbed my left hand with hers, her nails sharp against my skin. Her cold, calculating gaze pierced me. There was no surprise in her eyes, only expectation.
She threw the bouquet casually, not even bothering to look where it landed. Her attention stayed fixed on me as she brought her free hand to my cheek, her nails dragging softly but deliberately across my skin. Her voice was gentle, almost mocking.
"Do you regret it?" she asked.
Her grip on my hand tightened.
I didn't hesitate. I answered with calm certainty:
"No, I don't."
Her expression hardened, twisting into fury. Her nails dug deeper into my cheek, but I didn't flinch.
"Why?" she demanded. "Why don't you feel bad?"
I didn't feel anything—not guilt, not shame, not remorse. My voice was steady, detached.
"What is there to say? It was a job."
It was the truth. She was the daughter of a powerful politician, my assigned target. The mission wasn't just about killing her—it was about eliminating her father. But her father was cautious, elusive, surrounded by layers of security.
The administrators had suggested an alternative: win her loyalty, turn her against her father, and deliver him to them on a silver platter. But that approach felt... cruel.
On our wedding night, her father had let his guard down. The security detail waited outside the church. I judged it would be cleaner—more humane—to end it there.
So I did.
I killed her first, then her father, and then everyone else in attendance. Her family, my supposed family, the security team—none of them were spared. Civilians who thought they were extras in a staged wedding, lured by a meager 200 UC payment, fell like the rest.
I left the church as if nothing had happened, the weight of what I'd done no heavier than any other contract.
Now, in the nightmare, faced with her questioning gaze, what could I possibly say?
That I didn't love her? That would be a lie. I think, in my own way, I did.
That I regretted it? That it was wrong? No.
No matter how much I turned it over in my mind, I couldn't feel bad about it. It was just an assassination contract.
What was the alternative? Run away? Try to live a normal life?
I was incapable of that.
And even if I had tried, I knew what would happen. The contractors would have sent someone else to finish the job—and to kill me for failing.
Could I have fought the people the administrators sent? No chance. Back then I wasn't aware of this strange power I had, but even with it, in hindsight, the administrators were backed up by the whole Balmundi Syndicate. How could I resist? Before the professor, just activating my ability one time left me in terrible pain, basically immobilized for a week.
But even if I had my current drugs, it would still be me against the whole Syndicate.
I knew there was no point even thinking about deserting.
My wife didn't seem to appreciate this opinion.
I could hear Emily in the distance, rushing past the guests. Looking at Her she was also wearing a wedding dress.
My wife covered my view to attract my attention and said that 'I was a monster' before stabbing me through the neck with her long nails.
Letting go, she blocks a kick from Emily as I fall to the floor, losing conscience.
I open my eyes, the dim light of the early morning filtering through the cracks in the shutters. The crammed bed feels suffocating, so I push myself up and head downstairs, hoping a glass of water might clear my mind.
But as I reach the living room, I see her—William's mother—sitting on the sofa, shoulders trembling, her face buried in her hands. She's crying, her quiet sobs filling the stillness of the night.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then I approach her.
"What happened?" I ask softly.
She looks up, startled, quickly wiping her face as though trying to hide her tears. "It's nothing," she says, attempting to stand.
I sit beside her, shaking my head. "Don't brush it off. Tell me."
Her defenses crumble, and she begins to speak, her voice shaky. She talks about how much she missed me—how she had thought I was dead until Kevin's mother told her I was in Concord. Her words are a torrent of relief and sorrow, years of emotions spilling out.
Then she hugs me, her arms tight around me, her tears soaking into my shoulder. She kisses my cheek and sobs about how cold I feel, physically and emotionally.
I hold her because that's what she needs right now, but inside, I feel... nothing. I can't summon the love she wants from me, the love she thinks I owe her as her son. I'm not her son.
As she cries, I can't help but compare her to my own mother. My mother, who never hugged me. Never cried over me. Her love was a strict, distant thing, measured in expectations and punishments. It's almost foreign to me, this open, desperate affection.
She eventually calms down, wiping her tears and telling me to go back to bed.
I stay behind, sitting on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
My thoughts drift to the nightmare, to the cold glare of my wife and her unrelenting questions. What had she hoped to achieve by killing me in that dream? Did she think she could make me feel fear? Guilt? Regret?
I just can't care.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair.
What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so empty? So detached from everything?
Am I dead or did my heart just die?
No answers come, only the quiet hum of the night and the weight of my own hollow existence.
I raised from the couch and slept for a few more hours. Forcing myself asleep had become routine. One can't afford insomnia in my field, even with so many thoughts hanging over my mind.
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DATE:10th of August, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The next day we returned to Concord after eating breakfast and for what a good time! or no, there were bad news actually.
Vierna was using a clique of experimental soldiers like our last fight at the factory. at least this is what Sarah said.
They they attacked Alice's house, no doubt for that weapon of mass destruction, project Lotus. She wanted to rush over there, but they already left while they were still traveling back. I am sure she was quite frustrated. I hope she didn't put blame on the fact she stayed over for Carter's real parents. Sarah said they were spotted at a medical factory nearby so we went there. They probably wanted to steal medical secrets from Mattew? I swear the League is terrible at information gathering if I have to find all of this myself.
I asked Emily to take control of the cameras and we went directly to Virna. No point of fighting all of those suffering pacients. She was searching around different file folders. a very reminiscent scene from our last fight.
But I wasn't the same. I had on me equiped both the flak armor, the Exoskeleton and had the Smart Gun.
I tried to shoot her before she noticed, but the slug was directed towards the ground.
I wondered what kind of magic she used, but Emily said she had a swarm of small drones who were able to change direction of objects with their small propellers. It seems like she also got an equipment upgrade just like myself.
I don't get why Vierna wasn't Mundi's disciple, supposing she made these devices herself. he was a much better mechanic than her Biologist Master.
Alice tried to use her power of controlling gravity on her, but just as last time, Vierna activated a button on her chest that negated the change in gravity.
She tried to retort by activating the kinetic gauntlet on Alice, but she dodged the powerful fist and gracefully returned to my side.
I had Emily inject the drug and used my power to slow down time, approaching Vierna with the knife.
The drones were surprisingly fast. even in this slowed time they directed my bayonet knife away from her vitals when I pointed at her neck and into her chest, even if I used all my force to try and raise the knife more.
They generated so much heat that they started to burn so I stepped back.
I needed a new strategy.
I asked Emily about what coverage the drones seemed to have. they must be concentrated on her vitals.
Sure enough, Emily confirmed from the earpiece that what she saw through the cameras of my suit that the lower was that Vierna's lower feet weren't protected that much.
Still in the slowed time I pull out the smartgun and send 4 slugs at each of her feet with the last one on her head.
I let go of my breath and just as I imagined, the one at her head also got directed to the floor, but the other 8 ones hit their mark and Vierna fell on her knees.
Emily's voice came through the earpiece, calm but insistent. "Approach her directly," she said. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of her plan, but decided to trust her judgment. As I moved closer to Vierna, something unexpected happened—the swarm of tiny drones that had been deflecting my every move suddenly began to scatter and fall lifelessly to the floor.
"They're down," Emily confirmed. "I found their frequency and jammed it. Honestly, it was child's play compared to fighting Deus."
With her drones neutralized, Vierna's defenses were significantly weakened. She tried to rise and swing at me with her kinetic gauntlet, but I was faster. The exoskeleton amplified my strength as I caught her arm mid-swing. With a sharp twist, I snapped the bone just below the metal gauntlet that protected her hand. She cried out in pain, but I didn't let up.
Her free hand darted toward her chest, reaching for a device on her suit—the same one she'd used earlier to counter Alice's gravity manipulation. I wasn't about to let her gain the upper hand again. Before she could activate it, I grabbed the device and tore it free from her high-tech suit, crushing it in my hand with ease.
"Aionis!" she screamed, her voice filled with rage as her eyes locked onto my mask. "You always try to stop us! Do you think this is how progress is made? You thug!" I'm not sure this could really be called "progress"
Her words dripped with venom, but I wasn't fazed. My voice was steady as I replied, "I'm not the one attacking factories and civilians. I might be new to this whole 'hero' thing, but this seems like a pretty clear-cut case to me."
The room fell silent for a moment as my words hung in the air. Vierna glared at me with a mix of defiance and frustration, but she was beaten—for now.
I crouched to Vierna's level, staring her down as she glared at me with unrelenting defiance. "Do you feel any remorse for working with the Combine gang?" I asked, my voice cold and steady.
She didn't answer—just kept that same hateful glare. I didn't actually expect a response. Asking questions like this was pointless. She'd been caught off guard, and she needed to learn the consequences of that. Without hesitation, I slapped her across the face with the back of my exoskeleton-covered hand. The force made her nose bleed, and for a moment, she looked stunned. I don't know what she expected from me—mercy?
Alice winced when she saw what I did, but I didn't care to soften my demeanor or hide the apathy in my tone. I was done pretending to be "Will." If she couldn't handle that, she was free to walk away again.
Vierna bit her tongue in frustration, and then something grotesque began to happen. The bone in her broken arm twisted back into place with a sickening crack. Muscles erupted from beneath her skin, hanging grotesquely before wrapping tightly around her arm like some kind of organic armor. Veins bulged across her body as she snarled through clenched teeth, rambling about how much she hated me for "making" her use this form.
I didn't get what she meant by "making" her. No one forced her into this.
Suddenly, with renewed strength in her legs, she lunged at me. But Alice was quicker—she used her gravity manipulation to slam Vierna back onto the ground before she could reach me. Taking advantage of the opening, I delivered an uppercut to her jaw, followed by a crushing liver shot with my other hand.
Vierna tried to recover and regain momentum, but Alice pressed her down again with another gravitational surge. This time, I followed up with a powerful kick to her jaw, sending her head snapping back.
I didn't stop there. My next punch landed squarely on her jaw again, snapping it out of place with a sickening crunch. But even then, it wasn't over—her body continued its grotesque transformation. Muscles erupted from the broken skin around her jaw, repairing the damage but leaving behind a horrifying mutation that extended across half of her face and neck.
With every injury she sustained, she became more disfigured—likely the "form" she had been ranting about earlier. It seemed this transformation strengthened her and repaired broken parts of her body, but at an extreme cost. The mutations were monstrous. Honestly, I say it is a bit too much. I wouldn't use such a thing.
Clenching what remained of her jaw, Vierna reached for something on her belt with her still-normal hand. In her desperation, she ripped it free by mistake and threw it to the ground before vanishing into thin air.
"Emily," I said through the comms, "was that similar to the teleportation watches we used?"
Her response came quickly: "Not exactly—it's also a form of quantum tunneling, but much more primitive. And it's single-use."
That meant Vierna couldn't have gone far.
I told Emily to scan the surrounding cameras while ordering Alice to follow me so we could deal with Vierna's underlings still inside the factory.
Like before, these soldiers felt no pain—but that didn't make them invincible. The slugs from my Smart Gun were as big as a thumb and tore through their heads like paper-mâché. Without functioning nerves or brains left intact, they couldn't move anymore. They were easy work—I think I took down about ten of them myself.
Unfortunately, it seemed Vierna had managed to escape again. Emily later clarified that Vierna found a hoverboard nearby—a getaway vehicle that she had used to flee after teleporting.
"A hoverboard?" I asked skeptically when Emily told me this later in the day.
"Yes," she replied dryly before showing me footage from one of the cameras: Vierna—now a grotesque abomination—riding away on what looked like a floating platform.
Weird times indeed.
I barely had time to confirm that we'd eliminated all the invaders when Alice rushed me to the car, urging me to head to her house immediately.
When we arrived, the scene was worse than I'd imagined. Alice's home was in shambles—most of the windows were shattered, and signs of a violent struggle were everywhere. It was clear that the few security personnel stationed there wouldn't have stood a chance against Vierna's forces.
Royal investigators were already on-site, undoubtedly drawn by the importance of Alice's father's achievements. I doubted they even knew about his bioweapon capable of genocide. They probably just wanted to ensure that his work on vaccines remained intact, though I couldn't be sure what the Royal Governor might know.
One of the investigators led us to his office. The sight was grim—he had been stabbed multiple times, likely when he refused to give them the codes to his underground lab.
While Alice stayed behind to speak with the investigators, I made my way to the secret entrance—or what used to be secret. The bookshelf concealing it had been ripped out of the wall, leaving the passage exposed.
As expected, the underground laboratory had been thoroughly raided. I connected Emily to the lab's interface, just like last time, and she quickly confirmed what I feared: all data on Project Lotus had been stolen. The vials containing the bioweapon were either destroyed or taken entirely.
The air in the lab felt heavy with danger, and I realized I hadn't even put on a hazmat suit—the shelf where they were stored had been destroyed in the chaos. Not wanting to risk exposure to anything left behind, I quickly returned upstairs.
I found Alice sitting against a wall, her face buried in her hands as she cried. I sat down beside her, unsure of what to say at first.
Through her tears, she said bitterly, "You just left when you saw my father like that."
I met her gaze evenly and explained, "I had to check if they took the weapon of extermination from his lab." My words only seemed to make her more distraught when I confirmed that it had indeed been stolen.
Her sobs grew heavier as she mumbled something about what Secundo Manus might do with it.
"There's no point in stressing over it," I said firmly. "We just need to stop them before they use it."
Trying to shift her focus, I asked about her mother and whether anything had happened to her during the attack. Alice told me that investigators had found her in the art room and taken her to League headquarters for protection at SuperiorWoman's request. She didn't even know about the fighting outside despite the loud noises. She was just that absorbed in her obsessions.
We waited for several hours as the investigators combed through what was left of the house, though it felt like they were mostly wasting time. Once they finally left, we returned to Alice's apartment. She slumped onto the couch without a word while I headed into the kitchen to make dinner.
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I stirred the last of the fries in the pan, the sizzle loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen. When I set the plate in front of her, Alice barely acknowledged it. She picked at her food, her fork scraping against the plate as if the sound alone would be nourishing. I didn't push her to eat. What could I say? "It'll get better"? That would be a lie, and we both knew it. But I can understand why she would be confused. The part about her feeling bad about her father's death, not really, because for one he was a deviant and for second, no one forced him to make that bio-weapon of mass destruction, at least from what we talked. He probably wouldn't have even been targeted if he didn't make it so his death was also pointless. No, what I understood was how confusing this all was for her. one day we are at the house of the people for who I pretended to be their son and the next we fight Secundo Manus' apprentice and she finds out her father died.
I finished my meal quickly, leaving her at the table while I sank into the couch, fiddling with my earpiece as I talked to Emily about logistics. Halfway through the conversation, I felt a presence at my side.
Alice didn't say a word. She just lay down, resting her head on my lap, and for a moment, I froze. Slowly, hesitantly, I began to stroke her hair. She trembled under my touch, her quiet sobs breaking the silence.
"They… They never did this," she whispered. "Not once."
My hand stilled. "Who didn't?"
"My parents." Her voice cracked. "They never… showed me anything. No hugs. No comfort. Nothing."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening in a way I couldn't explain. "Mine didn't either," I admitted.
She tilted her head up, her tear-streaked face searching mine, and she asked, so softly it was almost a whisper, "What's your name?" So it was that time.
The question hit me like a punch to the stomach. My name? I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My mind raced, frantically digging through memories, but it was like trying to grasp smoke.
My own name—gone. And not just that. I couldn't remember my parents' names either. Or my cousins'. The realization was a jagged blade, cutting deeper the longer I lingered on it. I remembered where I'd lived, but… why did the rest vanish? Thinking about it, There were all those other strange holes in my early memory. No, in most of my memories. Why was that? Was it the spell? The one that supposedly kept me alive? Or had my mind been broken all along?
"I…" I faked a tremble in my voice, hoping to mask my confusion. "I don't remember."
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she saw through the lie. But then she sat up and wrapped her arms around me. "Then we'll figure it out," she said, her voice fierce despite the tears.
I returned the hug, my thoughts a storm of uncertainty. That night, sleep came, but like everything else, it felt… hollow.-*-*-*-*-*