The Fire blazed on as more freshly cut firewood was tossed into it with Menae's vectors.
“We’ll I guess I’m next,” Gatage said.
“Whoever said you were going next?” Menae argued.
“Would you like to take the stand, Menae?” Gatage asked.
Menae thought of this for a moment, and said “point taken,” making Gatage nod, and allowing him to continue.
“So, in a nutshell, I was raised to become the best there was at the art of shooting,” Gatage began.
“Shooting a pistol can be considered an art?” Sanae asked. Gatage simply gave her an annoyed glare, and continued.
“Anyways, I was raised to become the best there was. However, soon after, I found out there were others I had to surpass. And in ways I did not want…”
“Alright, rise and shine,” said a voice. “You kids slept enough. Today’s the big day!” he said enthusiastically. “Today’s the day we determine which of you is the best!”
We were all herded into separate containers. I was confused. I knew that eventually we would part take in an event or series of events to see whom was the best at what we were taught to do, but they never told us about what we were going to do to determine such a thing.
I would not like what I would soon find out.
After we were placed in the tubes, all of our tubes were lifted, like elevators, to a ‘second floor’ of the area, which was grassy and calm.
“So, here’s the deal,” said a voice on the intercom. “There are two pistols in the middle of the arena. Those pistols are the same that were used in your training. Periodically, two tubes will open, and force the participant into the arena. It’s a fight to the death. When one of you dies, the next tube will open as the pistols will give off an electrical shock. The one of you remaining alive, is the one we will choose. Fight brave warriors, like you life depends on it.” There was a short pause before he later said “because it does,” and the paging was over.
I had expected to be one of the last ones to enter. No… hope is a better term. But nonetheless, fate didn’t care.
I was one of the first to enter.
I ran towards the pistols on the ground, picked one up, and cocked it, and pointed it at my enemy, only to discover that he had done the same, but just a tad bit slower. Yet, I hesitated. I never thought I would have to kill someone I considered my bretheren.
We stood there pointing our guns at each other: his to my face, and mine to his. If I shot first, he would shoot me back, and we’d both die. If at any moment he decided to pull the trigger, I’d be dead. And that’s just what he did. But his movement was so quick, I had no time to realize that the lab rat, much like myself, had shot his own head into a bloody oblivion.
Shock took over, much like anger for his death. I picked up the second pistol, and shot down all 28 of the other participants. By the end, the magazines were empty, except for one bullet.
“Save the last bullet for yourself,” I muttered, and placed the barrel on my head.
Someone came in, and shoved me out of the way of my own oblivion. It was a bird; a female bird. She had saved my life. But that was years ago…
“So what happened then?” Sanae asked.”
“I was moved to live behind ‘enemy’ lines. I found out about the way of life of the native mobians. I felt… sorrow…”
These people… they lived off scraps of food every day. They lived day by day. All of them looked out for each other for a mutual survival in the premises of their own homeland. I broke what little heart I had. I tried to hide my identity, and led a revolution against the attacking forces; my previous leaders.
“You do know we’re all going to die, right?” a mobian questioned me.
“If you think we’re all going to die, then you’re crazier than the leader of the invaders,” I told him.
I was found. I was captured. All of the resistance was flattened. Irony works oddly in that manner.
I awoke in a chair. The room was damp and dark. A figure walked up to me. It was the same bird who saved me several years before from my own demise.
“You really had some guts to go against us like that,” she said. “I’ve always been curious what those guts must look like…” she said sickly.
“You weren’t down there with those people,” I argued.
“Are you trying to switch sides again?” she scolded. “You’re good with a gun, I’ll give you that, but you need a brain to go along with it.”
“Says the head of a major, mindless corporation looking to only conquer as many dimensions as possible.”
“So, you did your homework,” she said applauding me. “A+”
“You have no idea what you’re doing to them,” I told her.
“But I know what I’m going to do with you,” she said, and pulled out one of my pistols. “Recognize these? How about you get a real close-up?” She japed the barrel of the gun into my left eye, and shot a bullet into the eye.
“Did you die?” Noctus asked.
Everyone was silent for a brief moment.
“Sanae, can you heal a gunshot wound to the head?” Gatage asked.
“I can’t revive the dead, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sanae replied.
“Noctus, don’t interrupt,” Gatage ordered, and continued his story. “Where was I? Ah, yes, I remember. I awoke off in a forest somewhere. The same bird that shot me in the eye was nearby. I reached for my guns, but I grabbed grass and air…”
“Looking for these?” the bird asked mockingly.
I said nothing.
“Go ahead, shoot me,” she said, tossing me my weapons back. “I guess I’d deserve it.”
“In my time with the natives, I vowed to never kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. You can live,” I said.
I picked up my weapons, and was about to leave.
“And take this too,” she said, and tossed me a small, white and yellow ball. “You’re going to need it.”
I looked at it closely, and it seemed to be like an eye. I touched the region where my left eye was, and I felt bandages. I had no idea what had happened to it, but, with the bird’s assistance, I placed the synthetic eye where my eye should have been.
“Thanks for helping me,” I told her.
“If you need help, just tell me,” she replied.
“Actually, I was thinking about making a resistance group against the Empire.”
“I’ll join, but there’s something I have to get finished before I can join.”
“I later got back word that she was killed by the Empire for treason,” Gatage lied to the Militia.
“And that’s how this Militia was made?” Cooro asked.
“Yes,” Gatage replied.
“Gatage, of the group of Mobians, did you ever come across any Lynx?” Noctus asked.
“Oh, plenty,” he said. “There must have been…” he began, but trailed off stopping himself from saying the one number that would have driven Noctus to Gatage’s murder: 100.
“How many?” Noctus asked, looking hopeful, but anger and rage was just around the corner only using hope only as a decoy.
“Uh… about… 20,” he lied again, but due to Noctus’ poor intelligence, Noctus bought it, and the night continued on.
“We’ll I guess I’m next,” Gatage said.
“Whoever said you were going next?” Menae argued.
“Would you like to take the stand, Menae?” Gatage asked.
Menae thought of this for a moment, and said “point taken,” making Gatage nod, and allowing him to continue.
“So, in a nutshell, I was raised to become the best there was at the art of shooting,” Gatage began.
“Shooting a pistol can be considered an art?” Sanae asked. Gatage simply gave her an annoyed glare, and continued.
“Anyways, I was raised to become the best there was. However, soon after, I found out there were others I had to surpass. And in ways I did not want…”
“Alright, rise and shine,” said a voice. “You kids slept enough. Today’s the big day!” he said enthusiastically. “Today’s the day we determine which of you is the best!”
We were all herded into separate containers. I was confused. I knew that eventually we would part take in an event or series of events to see whom was the best at what we were taught to do, but they never told us about what we were going to do to determine such a thing.
I would not like what I would soon find out.
After we were placed in the tubes, all of our tubes were lifted, like elevators, to a ‘second floor’ of the area, which was grassy and calm.
“So, here’s the deal,” said a voice on the intercom. “There are two pistols in the middle of the arena. Those pistols are the same that were used in your training. Periodically, two tubes will open, and force the participant into the arena. It’s a fight to the death. When one of you dies, the next tube will open as the pistols will give off an electrical shock. The one of you remaining alive, is the one we will choose. Fight brave warriors, like you life depends on it.” There was a short pause before he later said “because it does,” and the paging was over.
I had expected to be one of the last ones to enter. No… hope is a better term. But nonetheless, fate didn’t care.
I was one of the first to enter.
I ran towards the pistols on the ground, picked one up, and cocked it, and pointed it at my enemy, only to discover that he had done the same, but just a tad bit slower. Yet, I hesitated. I never thought I would have to kill someone I considered my bretheren.
We stood there pointing our guns at each other: his to my face, and mine to his. If I shot first, he would shoot me back, and we’d both die. If at any moment he decided to pull the trigger, I’d be dead. And that’s just what he did. But his movement was so quick, I had no time to realize that the lab rat, much like myself, had shot his own head into a bloody oblivion.
Shock took over, much like anger for his death. I picked up the second pistol, and shot down all 28 of the other participants. By the end, the magazines were empty, except for one bullet.
“Save the last bullet for yourself,” I muttered, and placed the barrel on my head.
Someone came in, and shoved me out of the way of my own oblivion. It was a bird; a female bird. She had saved my life. But that was years ago…
“So what happened then?” Sanae asked.”
“I was moved to live behind ‘enemy’ lines. I found out about the way of life of the native mobians. I felt… sorrow…”
These people… they lived off scraps of food every day. They lived day by day. All of them looked out for each other for a mutual survival in the premises of their own homeland. I broke what little heart I had. I tried to hide my identity, and led a revolution against the attacking forces; my previous leaders.
“You do know we’re all going to die, right?” a mobian questioned me.
“If you think we’re all going to die, then you’re crazier than the leader of the invaders,” I told him.
I was found. I was captured. All of the resistance was flattened. Irony works oddly in that manner.
I awoke in a chair. The room was damp and dark. A figure walked up to me. It was the same bird who saved me several years before from my own demise.
“You really had some guts to go against us like that,” she said. “I’ve always been curious what those guts must look like…” she said sickly.
“You weren’t down there with those people,” I argued.
“Are you trying to switch sides again?” she scolded. “You’re good with a gun, I’ll give you that, but you need a brain to go along with it.”
“Says the head of a major, mindless corporation looking to only conquer as many dimensions as possible.”
“So, you did your homework,” she said applauding me. “A+”
“You have no idea what you’re doing to them,” I told her.
“But I know what I’m going to do with you,” she said, and pulled out one of my pistols. “Recognize these? How about you get a real close-up?” She japed the barrel of the gun into my left eye, and shot a bullet into the eye.
“Did you die?” Noctus asked.
Everyone was silent for a brief moment.
“Sanae, can you heal a gunshot wound to the head?” Gatage asked.
“I can’t revive the dead, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sanae replied.
“Noctus, don’t interrupt,” Gatage ordered, and continued his story. “Where was I? Ah, yes, I remember. I awoke off in a forest somewhere. The same bird that shot me in the eye was nearby. I reached for my guns, but I grabbed grass and air…”
“Looking for these?” the bird asked mockingly.
I said nothing.
“Go ahead, shoot me,” she said, tossing me my weapons back. “I guess I’d deserve it.”
“In my time with the natives, I vowed to never kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. You can live,” I said.
I picked up my weapons, and was about to leave.
“And take this too,” she said, and tossed me a small, white and yellow ball. “You’re going to need it.”
I looked at it closely, and it seemed to be like an eye. I touched the region where my left eye was, and I felt bandages. I had no idea what had happened to it, but, with the bird’s assistance, I placed the synthetic eye where my eye should have been.
“Thanks for helping me,” I told her.
“If you need help, just tell me,” she replied.
“Actually, I was thinking about making a resistance group against the Empire.”
“I’ll join, but there’s something I have to get finished before I can join.”
“I later got back word that she was killed by the Empire for treason,” Gatage lied to the Militia.
“And that’s how this Militia was made?” Cooro asked.
“Yes,” Gatage replied.
“Gatage, of the group of Mobians, did you ever come across any Lynx?” Noctus asked.
“Oh, plenty,” he said. “There must have been…” he began, but trailed off stopping himself from saying the one number that would have driven Noctus to Gatage’s murder: 100.
“How many?” Noctus asked, looking hopeful, but anger and rage was just around the corner only using hope only as a decoy.
“Uh… about… 20,” he lied again, but due to Noctus’ poor intelligence, Noctus bought it, and the night continued on.
