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Wastelanders: War of Iritheum

Under the rule of their God-King, the People of the Wastelands live an underprivileged life on the outskirts of a mysterious dark sphere known simply as the Black Ball. Theodore Gray, a sharp-witted teen, finds himself in the crossfire of a war-brewing between the God-King and an elusive rebel group that has emerged to challenge his rule. After a life-changing event and the discovery of an unfamiliar system, Theo and his friends must choose between their current life of oppression or one that could lead to the liberation of their people.

ADot91 · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
20 Chs

Truth Behind the Lies

Benny and Isabella stood off to the side, their gazes fixed on the table of teens, their expressions laden with concern and intrigue.

"Look at all these recruits you've gathered," Benny remarked, scanning the group. 

Isabella's face revealed no emotions as she took a sip from her steaming cup, feeling the comforting warmth coursing through her veins before finally responding, "They're from Artimia..."

"Artimia? That's quite a distance from here."

"Yeah... Unfortunately, it was under attack when we came across it yesterday."

"Under attack? Who could..."

Benny's voice trailed off as the realization dawned on him. There was only one person capable of such destruction, a man wielding immense power within the jurisdiction of Sector Five.

"Section Commander Sedgwick, I presume?" he uttered, the words heavy with apprehension. 

Isabella nodded, her grip on the mug tightening as she replied, "In an instant, they lost everything that held meaning to them." 

Isabella's gaze fixated on the swirling steam rising from the cup.

"Benny, they're still so young. Why are they even here?" Isabella asked, her voice trembling with empathy, although she tried to conceal it.

"Bella, I'm sure that deep down, each of them carries their reasons," Benny replied, his tone gentle yet persistent.

"Seeking revenge? If that's their sole motivation, the only thing fueling them, they're as good as dead. Don't you think?" Isabella queried, her face etched with concern.

"This world is ruthless and unforgiving. I'm sure you know this truth all too well. We don't have the luxury of determining when a child should mature or the circumstances that push them to do so," Benny reminded her, his voice a poignant reminder of the harsh realities they faced.

"But let us not forget that we have no insight into what compelled them to join you and the others. Assuming without knowledge is a bad habit, Bella."

"I know..." Isabella murmured, her eyes clouded with a mix of worry and contemplation.

Benny's face lit up with a warm smile as he gently rested his hand on her shoulder. 

"However, even if their motivations stem from something like revenge, it doesn't automatically mean these kids are charging headlong into their demise. We must remember, Bella, that we're merely People of the Wastelands, not seers who can predict the future."

Isabella's expression softened with gratitude. 

"You're right, Benny. Thank you," she expressed, her eyes shifting to the recruits huddled around the table.

"Although I will say at first glance, they don't look like much," Benny commented, his observation interrupted by Nozomu's sudden appearance, strolling up behind them.

"Let's see if you can repeat those words in three months," Nozomu replied with a self-assured smirk, challenging Benny's assessment.

"That's assuming they manage to survive the hell you call training,'" Benny grumbled, his attention momentarily diverted as Curtis raised his hand, seeking their attention.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but we wanted to express our gratitude for the food," Curtis said, rising from his chair and offering a slight nod of respect.

"No need to worry about it, son. It's my pleasure," Benny assured him and the others at the table. Curtis turned towards Isabella, eager to catch her attention.

"Bella, you mentioned before that you would tell us about the KCs. Honestly, we're all quite curious about it."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I did say that, didn't I?" Isabella pondered aloud before shifting her gaze toward Nozomu.

"Would now be a good time?" she inquired, her eyes meeting Nozomu's, who took a moment to consider before nodding in agreement.

"I had initially planned to discuss it back at base, but commencing the training process now wouldn't hurt," Nozomu informed Isabella as he approached Curtis and the others.

"The training process?" Curtis questioned, his curiosity piqued as Nozomu positioned himself before the recruits.

"Let me start by clarifying the true intention behind the microchip implanted at the base of your necks."

Silence fell upon the table, and the room grew still, each individual hanging onto Nozomu's words with unwavering focus.

"The KCs, or King's Chains, are what they call them. Every Person of the Wastelands is branded with this from birth until the day we die—or so they say."

Nozomu surveyed the gathering of teenagers, their faces captivated by his words.

"Throughout the vast expanse of the Wastelands, across all Five Sectors, a multitude of theories have emerged regarding the KCs. Some claim they serve as a surveillance device for the Mad King, as a means to monitor our every move. Others speculate they are ticking time bombs, waiting to blow us all to smithereens. Some even believe that the KCs grant the Mad King access to the inner world of our thoughts. However, all of these notions are false. The true purpose behind these mysterious devices..."

A radiant glow emanated from the palm of Nozomu's hand as he extended it, illuminating the entire room with an exquisite hue.

"...Is to deny you all access to a power known as the Dyna System."

The group was mesmerized. Their excitement skyrocketed in the wake of this recent revelation. Throughout their lives, the People of the Wastelands had never received a satisfactory explanation for the mandated implants of KCs at birth.

Even the intellectuals and renowned scholars of the Wastelands had failed to offer a clear rationale behind their God-King's decision to brand them with these devices. Theo vividly recalled an incident from his youth when he had queried one of the soldiers about it. Their response had been nothing more than laughter, accompanied by a cryptic remark about the need for the People of the Wastelands to atone for their sins.

The children of Artimia were equally bereft of concrete answers until now. Suddenly, a swarm of questions emerged, focusing on this mysterious new Dyna System.

"Can I touch it?" Curtis inquired, utterly spellbound by the swirling orb of Dyna in Nozomu's palm. He extended a cautious finger, only for Nozomu to swiftly close his hand, preventing contact.

"If you don't want any missing fingers, I strongly advise against it," Nozomu cautioned Curtis, then directed his index finger toward a small, sturdy chest plate resting on a nearby rack. A beam of Dyna shot forth from his finger like a bullet, colliding with the chest plate.

"What was that!?" Curtis exclaimed, recoiling in astonishment at Nozomu's demonstration of power.

Arthur and Bryce rushed over to examine the armor piece. To their sheer amazement, the Dyna projectile had effortlessly pierced the steel chest plate, obliterating its rear and rendering it unusable.

"Whoa, it passed right through!" Arthur marveled while Bryce proudly displayed the shattered remnants of the steel plate to their astonished companions.

"Nozomu! What the hell do you think you're doing!? That was a good piece of armor! Can you even comprehend the effort and craftsmanship that went into making it!?" Benny admonished Nozomu, gripping him tightly and shaking him like a ragdoll.

"Come on, old man, it was just one lousy piece of armor. You're overreacting as if I blew up the place," Nozomu retorted dismissively.

"Lousy!?" Benny's anger surged outward, his frustration seeping out through his words.

"You have some nerve, Nozomu! To barge into a man's home, uninvited at that, and insult the detailed work of his skilled artisans!" Benny bellowed, intensifying his grip and continuing his furious tirade.

Amidst the commotion, Theo leaned closer to David and whispered, "Dyna System? Have you ever heard of it?"

"It's the first time I've heard about it," David replied, engrossed in his small notebook, scribbling away.

"You can't seriously be taking notes at a time like this..." Theo muttered, but David persisted, capturing every thought that crossed his mind.

"One of us has to," he informed Theo as Nozomu's commanding voice once again seized control of the room.

"Thus far, we've only discovered a single method of liberating a person from the King's Chains. The technique we've found involves unleashing a surge of Dyna through the KC."

Theo found himself struck by a series of flashbacks. The memories of his parents' demise replayed in his mind relentlessly. Finally, unable to contain his emotions, he rose from his seat and slammed both fists onto the table.

"You can't do that!" Theo shouted, his voice seething with anger. As the realization of his outburst dawned upon him, all eyes in the room turned toward him.

"I apologize... I didn't mean to—" Theo attempted to apologize for his interruption but struggled to find the right words. He wrestled with his emotions, fighting to regain control until Nozomu spoke up.

"It's all right, I understand. But let me assure you, this is nothing like what you witnessed back in Artimia," Nozomu reassured Theo, who had regained his composure and settled back into his seat.

"The King's Chains prohibit you from utilizing Dyna. For the most part, it's a safe device unless tampered with by using Dyna. This process overloads the KC, causing all brain functions to cease and death to follow shortly after. This technique is better known as Mind-Wipe, a scare tactic used amongst the Five Section Commanders to maintain control of their respective sectors. But, by strengthening your mind and body to the fullest potential, the Dyna that lies dormant inside you will grow so much that eventually, a surge that was once life-threatening becomes the key to breaking free of the King's Chains."

Amid Nozomu's informative discourse, a gentle draft crept in through the crevices of the windowsill, whispering its secrets into Nozomu's attentive ear. He turned his gaze towards the windows, raising his hands as if reaching out to embrace the unseen force.

"Nozomu? What's the matter?" Isabella inquired, but her words failed to reach his distracted senses.

"Everyone, take cover! Now!" Nozomu's urgent command filled the air just as a devastating blast of wind tore through the windows, shattering the fragile glass into a thousand shimmering fragments.