The sky was painted in a venomous, crimson glow. Below it, the ruins of Bastion Genesis lay clothed in a dense, black fog.
The booms of artillery shells still echoed, their shockwaves rattling the husks of dilapidated structures. Somewhere within the expansive ruin of the very first gated continent, a young boy named Ares desperately clung to life.
His dark hair was stained the color of ash, caked with the dust of his shattered home. His eyes, a disturbing shade of indigo red, were ringed by swollen rims of a lighter, angrier scarlet. Each breath was torture; the particulate matter that choked the air made it so.
Ares's throat was dry, scorched, and swollen, yet the muffled sobs did not stop.
Boom.
Another shell landed too close, its concussion sending his small body into the air like a balloon that has lost its tether. He struck a ruined wall, the air escaping his lungs in a forced, soundless hush.
He had lost his homeland. His bastion was gone. Even his young mind could comprehend a truth so absolute. The very first of the walled continents had fallen.
A certain feeling flowed through the toxic air, and with each ragged breath, it filled the hollow spaces in his soul.
Rage.
Anger.
RAGE!
Risa's face came to mind.
She had been the better child. Unlike him, she hated violence. She never complained when he stole her pocket credits to buy new skins for his favorite games, and she even helped him coax a little more from their dad. She was perfect. A boy couldn't ask for a better little sister.
The images came rushing back, sharp and unwanted.
The memory of scaly, green-skinned hands wrapping around Risa's head... the sickening sound as the monster began to pull.
"Aarghh!" A scream tore from Ares's mouth as he violently suppressed the memory. The image faded, but the feeling it left behind did not.
He wanted to burn them. He wanted to destroy the Alienoids with every fiber of his being.
"I swear I will make them pay, Risa," he swore, his voice a raw whisper. "I swear I will wipe them from existence. I will destroy their spaceships, I will—"
Ares broke into another suppressed sob, a sound swallowed by the dying wails of a once-mighty Bastion—a final, mournful chorus of ballistics and booms.
How had it come to this? The stories said it began centuries ago. Their ships had appeared instantly, humongous circular structures that cast vast, continent-spanning shadows upon the earth. The world then had met them with a naive blend of excitement and curiosity. The global government tried to make contact, but the visitors never responded. The circular structures simply stayed, silent sentinels in Earth's orbit, their intentions unknown.
Over seven years, the initial curiosity curdled into a global anxiety. The excitement festered, becoming dread. Then, it began. Wildlife started to mutate, their evolution manipulated to jump thousands of years ahead, re-engineered for destruction.
He hadn't been born then, a fact he'd once considered a blessing. The First Calamity, they called it. He'd glazed over the histories, lucky to have missed the era that claimed half of humanity. But humanity survived; that was one thing the species excelled at. It evolved—not biologically, but technologically and societally. The walled continents were built 'The Five Bastions'. The war never ended, but for a time, it was contained.
Then the Second Calamity came. The visitors revealed themselves, tearing through reality from otherworldly portals, spewing their reptilian forms onto the battlefield.
Yet, humanity survived. The war continued, and the control intensified.
Life had been tolerable when Ares was born. His childhood had been… amazing, all things considered. He was going to become an engineer just like his dad, to live a wealthy, protected life behind the walls. Now they had ripped that dream from his chest, shattering his happy life like a porcelain disc. The destruction of his home, his world, had been instant. One moment, life was good; the next, it was not.
The walls had fallen. The structures had shattered. They had spilled in.
Ares felt his breath thin. The soot and toxins were finally getting to his lungs; it was like a fire had been set within them. Each exhale was hotter than the last.
"Not yet," Ares's voice rasped.
"Not… yet."
Where was this courage when you hid as your sister died? The thought came, a serpent coiling in his mind.
Another tear slid down his cheek, forging a muddy trail along his dust-filled face.
"Not yet," Ares muttered again.
But intention alone could not keep him alive. His eyelids grew heavier, his thoughts more muddled. As Ares tethered on the brink of unconsciousness, something appeared before him. The space was empty one moment; the next, it was not.
Ares did his best to force open his tired eyes, to focus on the details of his guest. The silver hair caught his attention first, then the eyes that looked like they held entire cosmos within them. Then, the unnaturally smooth, porcelain-like texture of the man's skin. Ares's throat was too dry and his heart too hurt to question who—or what—this was. He only hoped it was here to rescue him.
"Hello, little one." The man's voice reached him. It carried a soothing resonance that calmed his frayed nerves, comforted his pain, and sponged away the rage that burned within him.
It was peaceful.
A guttural sound of protest escaped him. Ares shut his eyes, not knowing how to fight the encroaching calm, but he tried anyway. He searched for his rage, drawing on it, pleading with it. Please don't go.
"Stop it!" he managed to say through his pained vocal cords.
The silver-eyed being smiled, and the unnatural calm receded. His rage rekindled, slowly intensifying.
"You are angry, young one," it spoke, its voice chiming like distant cymbals. "You burn with hate. Your soul is full of it."
Ares fought to keep his eyes open, to listen.
"The destruction they meted out on your home was barbaric," the being continued. "It was uncaring. It was brutal. Wicked, even."
Ares felt the rage within him swell. His eyelids regained their strength, his gaze intensified.
"But that is the way of war." The corners of its lips curved up in a smile that betrayed a deep, chilling amusement. "It is wicked, barbaric, and uncaring."
Ares felt a stab in his heart. No, they were heartless, his mind defended. They destroyed everything. They killed everyone. He fanned the flames of his rage, desperate to keep this being's words from reaching it.
"Interesting," the being spoke. "You are right. This was no war."
It leaned closer.
"This was a massacre. A mockery of your species' resilience. A desecration of all your species has built."
It paused, staring into Ares's eyes. As Ares looked back, he saw no care, no pity—nothing. It was like staring into the silent, bottomless depths of a lightless lake. Even with his heart full of rage, Ares felt a tingle of pure fear travel up his spine.
The being smiled again.
"Come now, young one. You shouldn't be scared." A new emotion flickered in its eyes: Excitement.
"I can give you strength."
A certain silence hung in the air after it spoke, letting the words sink deep into Ares's heart. His eyes widened.
"I want to offer you a rope, a key, a path," the being spoke. "A path to exceed the cage your genes have placed upon you."
Ares's young heart was stirred. He did not fully grasp what this silver-haired man was offering, but he wanted it. He craved it with an intensity that eclipsed even his pain. The being seemed to notice his enthusiasm, and another smile spawned on its lips.
"Very well then, young one. I can offer you this key, but it comes with a condition."
Ares did his best to push his body upright. He wanted it. He yearned for this power with everything in him.
The being's eyes danced with excitement.
"Good," it smiled. "Now for the condition. This rage that burns within… you must let it burn. You must incubate it. Let it become your purpose, your drive, your only desire."
Ares's heart quickened with each utterance. His mind resonated with every word. It was his want. It was his vow. His fingers dug into his palms as his fists tightened. I want to burn them all, he swore to himself.
The being smiled, satisfied. "I see we are in agreement," it spoke. "Now, you just have to survive what comes next."
Ares felt a soft, invisible force embrace him, cuddling his being. The next moment, he was floating upwards. He continued to rise until he came to eye level with the silver-haired man. Then, the force turned his whole being to face downward, as if he were lying atop a masseuse's table—except he was in a destroyed bastion, and nothing lay below his floating body.
Ares smelled it before he felt it—the acrid stench of his dark hair burning away. Then, a cold touch on his scalp. A surgical pain reached him, boring into his forehead. It followed the silver-haired being's touch as it traveled in a circular pattern around his head.
His skull cap came apart, lifted by the being's invisible pull. The convoluted, greyish matter of his brain was on full display. A deep blue orb manifested in the being's hand, and with each passing moment it rested there, it shone brighter. With experienced expertise, it pressed the orb into Ares's exposed brain.
"Aaarghhh!" A mind-wrecking pain assaulted his entire being.
"Now comes the most important part," the being ordered. "You must not lose consciousness as it binds with you."
It was easier said than done. The pain was unreal. One moment, it was like a hot knife prying itself through his mind; the next, like a hyper-chilled gas was burrowing into his cerebrum. He did his best to endure, but he couldn't. As he felt his consciousness begin to waver, he sought his strength, his rage. Even that was not enough.
The silver-haired being walked to his front, squatting just enough to bring its silver eyes level with his face.
"Is that how little your rage burns? Is that how fickle your hate for those that destroyed your home is?" it asked, its voice laced with disappointment. "Is that all the respect you can accord those you lost?"
Nooo! Ares swore in his mind. It wasn't.
His mum's image flashed before him. She had charged forward fearlessly to protect him and his sister, cutting through the enemy like a hot knife through butter. But they were too numerous. She had tried and tried, and in the end, the final gift she left her children was an image of her being torn apart.
NOOO! They must all burn!
The pain intensified, but Ares would not let it have him.
The being smiled. It placed Ares's cranium back where it was meant to be, sealing it seamlessly. Only his now bald head and the blood that had clotted around the incision bore witness to the state his skull had been in moments before.
The force that wrapped around his body gently eased him to the floor, letting him lie with his back against the dilapidated wall.
"Young one, you have made me very proud," the being spoke. "Well, it wasn't just your effort. I also played a major role in setting the conditions and maintaining the mood," it continued to ramble.
Ares tried to listen, but his conscious mind had endured enough. No matter how he tried to resist the darkness creeping in, it was absolute. His weary lids finally shut.
A final string of digital text threaded itself across his vision, burning itself into his mind just as the darkness took him.
[Adrenaline Integrity Sufficient… Integration Criteria Met.]
[Assigning Subject Tag: 07… Integrating Subject 07.]
[Variant.X. Integration Complete.]
[Activating V.X. Cascade 1.]
[V.X. BioQuantum Processor Online.]