Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 6

Part 6

There was a ding from the doorbell as it opened, and three men dressed in black walked in.

"What the fuck happened here?"

The men were looking around at all the damage that was stored in what looked like a warzone.

"What the?" the man in front said as he gazed over to the unconscious bodies of his gang members.

The teen stood there.

"That would have been me."

The men looked over at the teenager.

"You did all this...by yourself?"

"Yeah, not bad right?"

The teen was provoking the men.

Just long enough for the family to escape.

"You know you talk a lot. There is an old saying, 'Speech is silver, silence is gold; you might have been able to walk away from this broken but alive but now."

Two of the men began to walk forward toward the teen.

The teen smirked.

"You’re a lot smarter than the leader sending two men to attack me at the same time, but I doubt that will change anything."

"He believed in the survival of the fittest; I myself believe in a different concept."

There was a ding from the door bell as the door opened, and several more men walked in eight in total.

"I believe in strength in numbers."

There were now almost a dozen men in the room, all enemies.

The teen lowered his arms.

"Huh".

 

2: Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 5
Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 5

Part 5

 

 

The mother looked down in defeat.

There was nothing that she could do to help the situation. If she did anything, she would end up in the same situation as her husband, and that would not have helped their daughter.

There was nothing she could do at the moment.

She sat there helplessly.

"Do you see it now, what this city is doing to us?" the man said in a calm voice. "Under the pretense of bettering ourselves, thiscity that we call home only exists for the strong. You can earn a great living if you are born with or develop a great power that is useful to the city in whatever their goal is."

The mother raised her head to look at the man kneeling in front of them.

"You know the funny thing is that no matter the level of their ability, they are automatically placed above us; it's like they are the next stage in humanity. We are humans, and they are mutants like the X-MEN. Only the strong survive is the unofficial motto of the city, so tell me, you know by now that we do not have any powers; if we did, this would have gone a lot smoother.

With that sentence, the woman began to feel anger swell up inside her.

"We are a small gang of those that did not have the natural talents or could develop them, so we decided to form a group that would eventually outnumber those that did have powers."

The woman had a worried look on her face.

"Oh, you want to say something."

The man slowly reached his hand to her face and pulled the tape off her mouth.

The woman spoke "If that is your goal, th-then why attack, Why rob us?". The woman wanted answers.

The man sighed.

"You see, the plan we had sounded good on paper; it happens in nature where hundreds of ants would overpower a grasshopper or a praying mantis. It was all about numbers and how they were utilized. That was where we messed up big time. Given the right situation, it is easy to outnumber and overpower someone. The problem was the prey itself; we jumped the shark on that one and went after whoever. The situation had changed, and the gap of power between us was larger than we ever imagined. It wasn't ants and grasshoppers anymore; it was dragons and ants."

The man pulled up his sleeves, and then he lifted his shirt.

The woman's eyes widen as she sees the various scars.

"Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but despite these ugly scars, I'm one of the lucky ones. My section of our gang only focused on low level reality warpers, but what we had in numbers they had in power, and eventually even their weakest was enough to overpower us by the dozens. There are other sections that attempt to take on the strongest bunch of reality warpers."

The man chuckled.

"Damn idiots, who the hell chose to fight against those that wipe out an entire city with a thought or a wave of their hand? Some of them lost their limbs and some died, they don't even get mentioned, but what can anyone say? Today, several people were critically injured after attempting to gang up on a single reality warper."

The man lowered his sleeves and began to stand up.

"The funny thing is, when this is all over and both sides part ways, we are left injured and barely alive, and we are looked at as the victims. I mean, it's one thing to get overlooked by the city, but to be humiliated like that when we are supposed to be the aggressors, that was the final straw."

The woman began to realize something.

Their plan and their whole ideology were ridiculous. Ordinary humans taking on reality warpers? There is not a single way they can win. Unless a miracle happened, and the odds were heavily in their favor, the hope of beating them was out of reach.

The woman narrowed her eyes on the gun in the man's hand.

It was truly survival of the fittest or survival of those that could adapt. Evolution at its finest, as the world expanded, new threats emerged. The weak have always been prey to animals that were faster, stronger, and more agile, so they created weapons to combat them. As time went on, threats became more resilient, and weapons became more dangerous to use in combat after going through multiple upgrades in the following centuries.

The woman looked at the handgun in the man's hand, it was a practical weapon. It was small but effective. In a robbery, all one would have to do is wave a gun around, and the victim would become very dependent.

The woman began realizing something else.

The idea of using a gun would be useless against reality warpers since their powers exist to challenge and, in some cases, ignore the laws of physics.

(The money) the woman thought to herself. She had assumed that they were here for something, but during the whole ordeal, not one of the men asked for the money or any money at all. The woman focused on the weapons in the man's hands; the man is in possession of weapons that a normal gang would have, such as guns and baseball bats.

The woman began to think.

There was no way that normal weapons could oversee reality warpers, the only chance they had was to upgrade the weapons they were in possession of. Since New York City had a ban on illegal firearms, the men would have to smuggle in the weapons and ammo into the city, and the resources to pull that off were not cheap.

(But we do not have much money) the woman thought. She did not say this out loud; if the men found out that they did not have a lot of money, there was no telling how they would react. But it was true that they did not have a lot. They owned a small corner store, and it only made enough for the family to live on. At the most, inside the cash register and the safe, there would be less than five grand in total; if any of the men had asked where the money was, the woman would have told them. But none of the men had asked.

Their goal was to challenge the strongest, but with the weapons they had access to, the men did not have a chance. Their only chance was to even the playing field; if the gang had more money, they could afford better weapons. The woman started to realize the robbery part of their plan: to support their group, they would need the money to do so. Since the group was made of humans with no powers, from the city they would receive the bare minimum in income, which was enough to live on, so the goal was money.

But none of the men in the store had asked for the money.

(There goal was something else) The woman thought.

She had assumed that the gang would rob small corner stores, avoiding the larger scale robberies to stay under the radar of local authorities, but they could not hit multiple stores in rapid succession without tipping off the authorities.

With enough resources, one can challenge the strongest, and resources cost money. Since none of the men had asked for any money, they could not get the funds for the resources that they needed, and since they did not have the resources, they needed, they could not challenge the strongest.

Once the woman came to that conclusion, she raised her head, and in her eyes was anger. She said, "What are you here for? You did not come for the money; why are you here? You ambushed us and shot my husband, WHAT THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT?!". She yelled at the men.

The man turned around.

"I told you, didn't I, that my section of the group oversees low-level reality warpers, After multiple attempts, we realized that we had no chance of ever winning. So, my section decided to do things a little differently."

The man walks to the tied-up family.

"There is a law of nature in which everything relies on one another for balance. One species is prey to another, while the same species that preyed upon them is prey to another. It is a perfect system of predator and prey out there. If one species falls out of place, then the whole system collapses on itself."

Slowly, they began to understand what the man was saying.

"We also understood something else as well."

(They were not here for the money we had.)

"What we learned was simple, and that was...."

(They stopped aiming high since they could win against those who were stronger).

"Despite how big the list was, no matter what your place was on that list,..."

(And when they could not get any higher, they...)

"There was always someone who was weaker than you, someone who was beneath you on that list."

(Choose to target those weaker than them, those that could not fight back.)

The situation was clear to her now. The reason they were targeted was because they were weaker. The people in the room had no powers whatsoever, but because the gang had weapons, they were stronger.

"To tell you the truth, I was quite relieved when I came to that conclusion. I could take the humiliation of those who looked down upon me, as long as I could give that same feeling to those below me. We will rise up by pushing everyone below us down"

CRASH!

There was a loud sound that startled everyone in the room.

The sound of broken glass filled the room.

THUD!

Something heavy was dropped on the floor.

The man began to slowly walk toward the source of the sound. He stops when he sees the large man on the floor, bloodied and bruised.

"What the..."

From the broken window, the man heard footsteps approaching the front door.

The sound of broken glass echoed through the small corner store.

Suddenly, there was a ding from the bell as the corner store door opened.

Everyone's eyes focused on the door as it opened.

The door fully opened.

In a situation like this, in the moment when things seemed the darkest, there was a person who stood at the door. After the incident outside, the person at the door beat down the large man on the lookout.

The person was clearly the enemy of the four men dressed in black in the corner store.

To the woman tied up on the floor, the person at the door was a single glimpse of hope.

The person took a step into the store.

Everyone's eyes were focused on the door.

To take down a large man, one would have to be large, if not larger than the said man.

The person who stepped through the door was a teen.

After several steps inside the store, the teen was completely in the store, and with that, disbelief filled the room.

In short, he did not look like someone who could have taken down the large man.

The teen stood there.

Scuffed up.

"Can I get sausage, egg, and cheese on a hero toasted lightly with butter and mayo on the bread?"

Silence.

There was silence in the store.

Everyone was in disbelief.

Ha, you almost had me worried for a moment, kid".

The man walked toward the teen, gun in hand.

The man was a few inches taller than the teen. The teen looked up; his light blue eyes peaked through the bangs covering them. He had bags under his eyes from just waking up. They stood there in front of each other.

The man grabbed the teen’s jacket.

"So, kid, what can you do?"

Hmmm, not much, but probably this." The teen replied.

With the tip of this shoe, the teen kicked the man in the knee. The man's leg jerked as he lost his balance and landed on his hands and knees.

The teen kicked the gun out of the man's hand and over the counter.

The man looked up and was pissed.

The teen was standing over the man.

"You little bastar-"

His sentence was cut off because the teen had kicked the man in the face. The man fell back on top of a tower of cans and boxes.

The man holding his nose staggered, attempted to pull himself up, but struggled.

Everyone in the room watched the whole ordeal unfold. The man, with his nose bleeding, looked at his crew members and brought his hand to his nose to stop the bleeding.

Boss!" one of the men shouted out.

"What the hell are you clowns waiting for? an invitation, Get HIM!"

The other three men began to converge towards his location, and since the men had outnumbered the teen 3 to 1, taking them all together was out of the question since he could see that the men had weapons.

His best chance at staying alive was to take them on individually.

The teen had yawned as he placed his hand on his head and closed his eyes.

(The one time I try to go to school early and I walk in on whatever the hell this is. I mean, sure, I have been late to high school every day of the known school year, but no one ever got hurt over it.)

Since the men were wearing boots, the teen had heard their footsteps getting closer and closer.

(Well, this is the last time I listen to someone.)

The teen opened his eyes, lowered his hand to his side, and smirked.

"Alrightly, then come".

The teen quickly adjusted his eyesight to the person running towards him; an object in the man's right hand reflected in the ceiling light. The teen could see the glare.

A knife.

If one could take down someone with their bare hands, they would not need a weapon. Since the teen could see the weapon, all he would have to do was focus not only on the weapon but also on the part holding the weapon: the arm.

The man swung his right arm with the knife, slightly cutting the teen across his left check and his hood as the teen barely dodged the attack.

Having dodged the attack, the man attempted to punch the teen with his left fist, but the teen ducked under the arm and soon uppercut the man.

"Ugh"

The man staggers back. Dazed, the man thrust his right arm forward.

With both hands, the teen grabbed the man's right arm and kneed him in the stomach. With his right arm, the teen elbowed the man on the side of his head. By sliding his forward foot across the floor and knocking the man off balance, the teen grabbed a handful of the man's hair and slammed the man's head face first onto the ground.

Blood was pouring from the man's forehead as it hit the ground. The man was unconscious. The teen looked up and saw the other man coming. The man had grabbed the teen by the collar of his jacket.

(Seriously, what the hell? why do they keep grabbing the jacket?)

The teen was being pushed back; the man was not that large but very muscular, so he had overpowered the teen. The muscular man was pushing the teen toward a wall, and the teen knew that because of his size, if the man had his back against the wall, the whole fight would be over.

The teen had grabbed the man's arm and let himself fall back. Since he could not overpower the man, he would use the man's size and strength against him. He fell on the floor, raised his leg to catch the man as he fell on top of him, and pushed the man headfirst into a wall.

The man got off the teen and rolled over, groaning as he held his head, As the teen got up, he was immediately hit on the side of the arm with a baseball bat.

The teen fell against the wall, holding his arm.

The man swung the bat horizontally, and the teen spun around to dodge the hit of the bat. Since the bat was a weapon that was an extension of oneself, the teen had to keep his distance to avoid being hit.

The man tried to close the gap between them and began to swing wildly in an attempt to hit the teen.

The teen dodges the hits by spinning around, ducking, and rolling around the area the man had cornered the teen into.

Whoa, that was close."

The teen knew that he could not keep this up forever, as he would tire himself out.

The teen needs to get the man into a small area where he cannot swing the bat around so wildly.

The sound of broken glass filled the room as the man began to hit various objects to get to the teen.

As the man swung the bat to the teen's midsection, the teen raised his left arm to catch the bat. The bat had hit the teen in the waist as he caught it, and it took everything for the teen not to roll over in pain.

Now holding on to the bat in between his arm and waist, the teen punched the man in the nose, hoping that the punch would cause the man to lose his hold of the bat.

The teen kept punching his face.

The teen tightened his hold on the bat and swung the man around into a corner.

The man had hit the teen in the ribs with the butt of the bat. The teen had kneed over, and the man had kneed him in the face to get the teen in a standing position, one where he could hit the teen in the head with the bat.

The man had swung the bat in a horizontal direction, and the teen ducked and spun around the man. The teen had performed a backward leg sweep to trip the man. On the floor, the man had swung the bat, catching the teen on the side of his knee.

As the teen fell down, the man was back to his feet, trying to kick the teen's head off.

The teen had rolled out of the way to create some distance between them.

Fighting him head on was a terrible mistake, he had to think of something.

The teen started to run.

He was not surrendering, but finding a closed environment to fight in. Inside the store, the teen ran towards a small corner. It was not big, but one would not be able to swing a bat freely. A glass bottle was thrown at the teen, and he barely managed to dodge it.

The man came running towards the teen.

The teen breathed as he began to get himself ready for this close-quarter combat session.

As soon as the man was in range, the teen grabbed the man's shirt collar and threw him into a corner of the pipe.

The teen had combo'ed the man with punches and jabs. The man had pushed the teen away with his foot, causing the teen to fall back onto the floor. The man had swung the bat downward to hit the teen.

"CLANG"

The bat had hit something; it was not the teen, but the bat had hit something.

The way the man had swung the bat caused it to get stuck in between the row of pipes attached to the ceiling.

The teen had smirked.

The man was trying to free the bat from the ceiling.

Wasting no time, the teen stumbled to his feet and started to chuckle to himself.

"Well, what do we have here? It looks like the situation has been reversed."

"Wha-" The man was silenced by the teen's fist slamming into his face.

The man had fallen to the floor and did not move.

The sound of the teen panting filled the room. The teen began to walk out of the room, holding his arm, panting.

"STOP."

Someone had yelled out, and following the yell was the scream of a woman.

Standing there was the man with the gun, and in his arm was the woman he had taken hostage, as he was holding a gun to her head.

"Don't move!" the man had yelled to the teen as he stepped out of the small room. 

The teen looked at the man.

"Your power"

"What"

"Your power; explain it now."

"What in the blue hell makes you think I have a power?"

The man started to get really annoyed.

"Wha-what are you talking about? You took down my men with little effort; you must have a power. With the way you fought, and man handled my men in hand-to-hand combat, precognition or telepathic perception ability So, which is it?"

The teen places his hand on this side of his head.

"Precognition or telepathic perception Two interesting abilities, but they will not do much in a life-or-death situation. Precognition is the ability to foresee future events, and telepathic perception is the ability to read another thought."

"What are you going on about?"

"Oh, nothing really; it's just that you motioned some interesting theories about me having a power. So, I will entertain you by saying that I did have a precognition ability. To some, the ability to see into the future does really seem cool, but you can't choose which vision you would get to see; it can be good or bad, and with the vision, you can only make a choice."

The teen snapped his fingers.

"Case in point, if you knew about an event that would happen depending on the vision itself, you only had two choices: To change it or to accept it. If one wants to change their 'fate, it would not be that easy because you do not know how to prepare for that said event. The same can be said for a person with telepathic perception abilities. Sure,  reading one’s mind is great and all; in a fight, it would allow you to dodge an attack, but if you don't know how to dodge, then it's pointless. More than just moving out of the way, you would have to train your body and mind for something like that"?

"What are you saying?"

"You asked if I had an ability like that; it is logical that I would, but, I have to say I don't have either. Well,  let me rephrase that: I don't have any ability of the sort."

"Neither?"

The man could not process the teen's answer.

"But your fighting ability"

"Just training and really, really good reflexes."

"You talked about ability during a life-or-death situation. You mean to tell me that you took the time to learn to fight. What good is your fighting skill against reality warpers? if anything, that would make you a hypocrite."

"I am not being a hypocrite; I am just saying that those two abilities would be useless in a fight. On the other hand, with hand-to-hand combat, you can at least sway the battle in your favor."

"Then join us."

"Huh?"

"Hear me out; according to the city, someone of your nonexistent level of power is not even worth mentioning, so your only logical choice is to join someone who is the same as you. Gangs start out when society treats them like crap, and then they try to justify their existence. Surely you must have felt the injustice this city dished out to us, would it not feel great to dish out this same feeling to those less than you?"

The teen looked down.

"I am the same as you guys; I have no power to show there are no lies about that, except that I don't go around waving a gun at people in a poor attempt to justify my existence. Don't you ever, in your pathetic excuse for a life, compare me to you. You're weaker than the people you push around".

The teen raised his head; his eyes were now focused. He placed his right thumb in the center of his chest.

"I might be weak compared to the overpowered reality warpers, but I still have my pride as a nobody."

The man was surprised by the teen’s answer.

"That is your answer?"

"Of course, and I don’t regret it".

The man raised his arm to point the gun at the teen.

"Well then, kid, let's see where your training and reflexes get you now."

The gun was now set on the teen.

Despite how good his hand-to-hand combat was, there was no way he could outrun a bullet, especially in a small space.

"Do not blame me for your death, kid; blame yourself for your own weakness. I will give you credit where it is due; despite your weakness and total recklessness, you tried your best to save this family, but it seems that fate is smiling down upon me."

The man squeezed his arm around the woman's neck, causing her to wince in pain.

As the man said that the man that the teen slammed into the wall began to come to his feet, On the other side of the room, the man in the small room began to walk out with the bat in hand.

"Let’s end this, shall we?"

In a second, the woman had bitten the man's hand.

The man had let you scream, and with that, the situation in the room had changed.

The teen rushed forward.

"You little bitc-"

The man was silenced by the teen punching him in the face.

The man fell back onto the wall. The teen had run up to the man, and with his foot, he kicked the gun out of his hands again.

"Damn you"

The man grabbed the teen and threw him into the wine cellar.

The man rushed in.

As the man entered, he tried to punch the teen; his arm was grabbed, and the man was spun around until he hit a wall.

The sound of wine bottles crashing on the floor filled the entire room.

The man swung his right arm, and the teen blocked with his left arm. The teen started to repeatedly punch the man in the gut. The teen elbowed the man in the face.

"Raaaaagh"

The voice surprised the teen.

The teen turned around and saw a man running towards him.

He sighed as he dodged and let the man, he was attacking fall over.

He walked down the wine cellar towards the approaching man. The man attempted to punch the teen with his right hand, but the teen ducked and spun around a full 360 to kick the man in the gut. As the man knelt over, the teen slammed his right elbow into the man's face.

Soon after, the man with the bat came rushing into the room, ready to swing.

The teen began to pick himself up.

While running, the man swung the bat left, and the teen dodged the hit by ducking. With his left elbow, the teen hit the man in the back of his head, causing him to slump over the glass.

Suddenly, the teen was caught in a reverse bear hug grapple.

Da-Damnit," The teen said, trying to free himself.

The teen was picked up off the ground.

Struggling, the teen placed his foot on the glass wall of the cellar and pushed himself back, causing the man to crash into rows of wine bottles. Pressed up against the wall, the teen slammed the back of his head into the man's nose.

"Ugh, stay still you little bastard" the man said as he tightens his grip on the teen.

"I’m not little, I’m a good 5’10-11’ on a good day."

Still off his feet, the teen bends his leg to attack the man's groin. The man had released his grip on the teen a little, enough for him to slip through his arms.

Still facing the opposite direction of the man, the teen grabbed the back of the man's head, jumped into the air, and kicked the other man, pressed against the glass wall, in the face.

As the teen landed back on his feet, he elbowed the man behind him repeatedly in the gut and  in the chin.

The man with the metal bat swung low to hit the teen's leg, and the teen raised his left leg to dodge the swing. As he did, the teen kicked the man in the side of his face.

The teen yanked the man up by his collar and spun him around so that he was lined up with the man pressed against the glass wall.

The teen placed his foot on the man's stomach and, with all his weight, tried to push the two men through the glass wall—to no avail.

Instead, the teen was pushed back into the wall behind him, bumping into the wine bottle hanging on the rack, causing the bottles to fall crashing onto him and the floor.

Leaning up against the wall, the teen ran towards the two men. Halfway into the run, the teen leaped forward into the air and rammed his knee into the man's face.

The glass wall behind the two men shattered at the force of the attack, and both men fell to the floor. The men were knocked unconscious by the attack as they were lying across the floor.

The teen stood there as he tried to catch his breath.

"Look Out!"

The voice came from the mother.

There was a loud thud as he was slammed into the ground. The leader grabbed the teen's jacket collar and punched him in the jaw.

"Enough of this."

With that statement, the leader began to strangle the teen. The wine cellar became filled with gasping sounds as the teen struggled to breathe. As he was clawing and scratching at the man's hands.

Struggling on the floor, the teen began sliding his hand across the floor and cutting his hand due to the broken shards of glass on the floor.

Without the teen looking, he grabbed a long-broken shard of glass, and without a second thought, the teen stabbed the man in the shoulder. There was a slight twitch in the man's upper body as he removed his hand from the teen's throat. The teen started taking deep breaths. As the man tried to pull the glass shard out of his shoulder, the teen grabbed the man's jacket collar and headbutted him in the nose.

GAHHHHH," the man said as he backed up, his nose bleeding.

With his foot, the teen pushes the glass deep into the shoulder, and with his other foot, the teen pushes the man by kicking him in the chest. Both men had rolled away to the opposite side of the room.

Both men were panting.

The teen wiped the blood from his lips. The man pulled the glass shard from his shoulder; his entire left arm was covered in blood. Slowly, the man began to make a fist with his injured arm, wincing in pain.

They both look at each other.

Then it happened:

Both men had run towards each other. With his right arm, the man swung his arm to punch the teen. The teen ducked under to spin around and elbowed the man in the face.

He backed up and stumbled as the teen walked forward.

Calmly.

Both the man and the teen stood there.

The man attempted to kick the teen with his right leg, which the teen blocked with his left leg. As their legs met, the teen dragged his leg down along with the man's leg. The teen kicked the man in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

The teen then flips, with his foot crashing into the man's face.

There was a "Thud" as the man fell to the floor.

The teen looked at the man lying out on the floor.

The teenager looked at the man lying on the ground and walked away towards the exit of the wine cellar.

"Five against one."

The teen hobbled across the unconscious bodies on the floor.

"It's been a while since I had to fight like that. I think I've gotten a little rusty.

The teen started stretching.

This battle was his, and this victory was his; no one denied that. He walked out of the hole in the broken glass wall, and the sound of glass crunching under his foot filled the room.

Despite still being in the store, it felt like a wave of fresh air hit the teen as he walked out of the cellar. The teen looked around the store.

The store was a mess.

Broken glass and spilled cans everywhere.

The teen grabbed a water bottle and poured its contents on his cut hand to wash away the blood.

"Ummmmmm"

Still licking his hand, the teen looked over to the family sitting there in the corner.

"Can you please help us?"

"Ye-yeah"

As the teen walked over to the family, he wrapped a loose rag around his hand and rolled the father on to his back.

"If you do not mind me asking what happened to him.

"He was hit in the head with the gun.

The teen parted the man's hair aside.

The teen looked at the woman.

"I’ll take a look at him; you should probably deal with the little one."

The mother left to untie her daughter.

The teen turned to the father.

"How are you holding up?"

"I’m good, I think."

The father was up against the wall.

"Just a little beat up."

"You sure"

The teen looked at the father.

"No headaches, no nausea, no blurry vision; you are not hearing any ringing in your ears.

The father looked at the teen.

"Just a headache right now."

"Oh, this was something I read about in one of my aunt's medical books."

"Don't try to move too much, alright; you may or may not have a concussion.

The teen stood up.

"Tha-thank you."

"Huh"

"Thank you for stopping the men and saving us"

"It's not that I don't have powers of my own; believe me, if I did have any powers of my own, I would've still come to save you.

"Why?"

The father looked at the teen.

NEO New York City had one goal: To understand the larger universe, and to do that, they would need someone who stood at the top, the strongest. Someone who understands the vast universe and can manipulate said universe. It was a mad scramble to the top of the throne; one could call it a dog-eat-dog world where everyone looks out for themselves.

"I don't like bullies. I did not train my skills to hone my martial arts skills to beat down bullies; that would make me no different from them. I do not want to hurt anyone, I guess I cannot turn my back on people in need. Sometimes those two cross paths with each other, but since you guys are safe, someone will be able to smile when this is all over. I guess this is what you would say, 'The end justifies the means' huh?"

"Your hurt"

"It's alright, this isn’t so bad; besides, if I can save others, then my fate is unimportant."

The teen looked at the clock. It was almost seven, and soon had to leave for school. The teen looked at the mother.

"...the hell is taking them so long. It was supposed to be a quick job, in and out. This is the place, right?"

The teen jerked his head to the broken window near the front door as he heard noise outside.

Hey, quick question: beside the front door, is there another way out of the store."

"Yes, there is an exit back door for deliveries," the mother replied.

The teen kept his focus on the broken glass window and turned his attention to the father.

Look, the window is broken. Do not tell me they have gotten crazy inside".

The teen helps the father up.

"Let's just head inside to see what the holdup is."

The teen could hear the voices of multiple men; he looked back to the mother.

"Take him and your daughter and go through the back. The first chance you have is to call emergency services.

But," the mother replied, but was cut off by the teen turning to her.

"He is going to need help, and this may be the only chance he can get it. Take the back exit, leave, and don’t look back.

"Alright"

The family trio hobbled together and proceeded towards the back door exit.

The mother opened the door.

The teen turned towards the broken window.

With her husband and daughter out of the door.

The mother looked back.

The last thing she saw was the teen facing the window before the exit door closed.

3: Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 4
Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 4

Part 4

 

 

The large man stood outside the corner store.

Damn, this is boring," the large man said, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it in his mouth.

C'mon, where is it?" the large man said as he began searching his pockets. "I should’ve swiped a lighter before I came out of here."

With a cigarette in his mouth, the large man looked up at the morning sky.

Quiet.

"……. She has a light-skinned friend. Look like Michael Jackson. Got a dark-skinned friend. Look like Michael Jackson. I played Ready for the World; she was ready for some action…."

A voice broke out.

The large man looked down to see a teen walking towards him.

"What is this?"

The teen was getting closer.

The teenager had long, messy black hair with several bangs covering his eyes. He was dressed in a dark, black open jacket. The red shirt he was wearing had a Captain America shield logo on it. He was wearing black pants and red and white Converse. On his back was a large, black backpack.

"…. I’mma play this Vandross, you gon’ take your pants off."

The large man looked at the teen.

"A student, now?" the large man sighed. "Just move along."

The large man took his cigarette out of his mouth and placed it in his pocket.

The teen was much closer now.

The large man closed his eyes.

"Just walk along, kid." The large man grumbled to himself.

"Excuse me, can I get through?" a voice spoke out.

The large man opened his eyes.

The teen was in front of the man.

"Wha…."

The teen took his earplug headphones out of his ear and looked at the large man.

"I’m trying to get something to eat before school."

"My classes start in forty minutes, and the four trains are running with delays".

The large man stared at the teen.

Listen, kid, just move along. The store is closed for renovations," said the large man as he straightened himself.

"Are you sure?" the teen replied as he leaned to his left to look past the large man.

The large man loomed over the teen.

"Yes, the owners are out now; scram, there is nothing here for you."

Hmmm, that's odd," the teen said, straightening himself up. "I could swear they were here".

The teen looked at the large man.

"After all, I could have sworn this place is where the gunshots and the screaming came from."

The large man looked at the teen in disbelief.

"Wha…."

 

4: Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 3
Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 3

Part 3

 

 

A small whimper broke out.

The sound came from a child.

A small girl.

The girl was tied up with rope, and her mouth was taped. On her right was her mother, and on her left was her father. All three were in the same situation, bound and gagged.

To the small girl, she had no idea why the five men in the corner store were there, but the parents knew all too well.

Robbery.

The men in the store were going to rob it.

Awwww, and we were having so much fun."

The man began to walk up to the tied-up family and kneel in front of the girl.

"You remembered what I said before this whole ordeal—you guys stay quiet and no one will get hurt, right?"

The mother had tried her best to get in between the man and her child, but to no avail, as she could not freely move the way she wanted to.

The father tried to move to the best of his ability, but there was a sound that made even the strongest stop in his tracks.

"Clink".

The parents’ eyes opened in shock at what they were seeing.

The man had pointed the handgun at their daughter's forehead.

It was a sight no parent should ever have to see.

The parents tried to move, but they could not. They were right next to her, leaning on her, and they could not do a thing.

The girl looked at the gun pointed at her forehead. In her young life, she had never seen a gun due to NEO New York City's strict ban on illegal weapons. She did not know how to react.

The gun was pointed at her forehead.

The father tried his best to free himself. His hands and legs were tied with plastic anti-riot nylon handcuffs.

He attempted to pull his hands apart, thus breaking the cuffs, but as he did, the zip ties would seep into his skin. The pain was unbearable as it was; it felt like the man's hands were being slowly cut off. He could not see it, but his wrist was bleeding.

But he had to bear the pain. Inch by inch. He felt angry as he watched the man point the gun at his daughter's forehead.

If he had one chance, the man would rip them apart and beat them to the ground, all of them. Even if he had to cut off his own hands to do so, he would risk his own wellbeing to protect his family.

The father continued to struggle.

The man smirked as he released the father, who had attempted to free himself. He gently removed the gun from the girl's forehead.

Clank!

The leader of the group pistol-whipped the father.

I'm sorry, it's just that I was watching you struggle, and I could not help myself".

The father groaned on the floor.

Hurts, doesn’t it?"

The leader stood over the father.

"Do you feel it—to be helpless, to be at the bottom of the food chain, to know that you can't do anything? Tough feeling?"

The father laid there in agony.

He pointed the gun at the mother and spoke as blood poured out of a wound on his head.

"Do you want to be next, ma’am?"

5: Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 2
Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 2

Part 2


 

 

"Beep"

"Beep"

The sound came from a robot.

A prototype.

NEO New York City's answer to overseeing the growing population of reality warpers.

It stood on the street, trying to access the situation.

"ARCH_ANGEL_Beta model number 105; its voice was robotic in nature, "accessing the situation."

The robot was small in stature.

It was coated in the city's colors: white and blue.

It looked like nothing more than a movable trash can with wheels, but because of its appearance, one wouldn't guess that it was capable of talking down low- to mid-level reality warpers.

"The time is 6: 51 A.M. exactly five minutes ago at 6:46 a.m., several gunshots were fired in a three-block radius, accessing the situation," the robot spoke.

"Activating Range Electronic Scan", and with the robot hacked into all electronic within a given range.

Let's just hope this works," a voice said from the roof of the neighboring buildings outside the corner store. "

The sun was rising.

The sun began to rise in New York City.

-Eight Minutes Earlier-

Inside the store.

"Are you insane? How the hell is a gun supposed to fix this?"!

Inside the corner store, a voice broke out.

The man held the gun in his hand and began to speak, saying, "Yes, but we are not shooting it; we are just going to throw off the calculations. GUARDIAN_ANGEL is more than a security system; it is an entity in its own right. Its main objective is to maintain order in New York City. The security system is linked up to the HEAVEN_SATELLITE above New York City to monitor. With one huge system like that, with other smaller systems spread out."

"You said that ARCH_ANGEL_Betas are not linked up to GUARDIAN_ANGEL, so you’re changing everything now."

"Yes, I said that, but I never said that they did not follow the same guidelines. If they were linked to another source, they would follow the same rules but have different agendas. By using the HEAVEN_SATELLITE which monitors the city 24-hours a day, the ANGEL_LINE can gather the information it needs. It probably works in reverse too, with each ANGEL_LINE robot sending the satellite information as well. Since we can only speculate on how it would work. If that were true, how would ARCH_ANGEL_Betas gather information? by its surroundings."

On the horizon, the sun was about to rise.

It was about to dawn.

"If that is true, we can assume that the ARCH_ANGEL_Betas can act independently within a limited range before it has to link up to the information source again. Like a bat that uses sonar waves to determine it surroundings. GUARDIAN_ANGEL existence is a huge A.I. that requires the help of many lesser robots as eyes and ears for it to work. If the ARCH_ANGEL_Betas follow the same pattern, then there must be a system that oversees the ARCH_ANGEL_Betas, with the ARCH_ANGEL_Betas acting for something bigger. Because it uses its surroundings to gather information, if we were to provide it with a sound, we could turn that advantage into a disadvantage."

"I'm listening"

It's like Bluetooth; the robots emit a signal, like a radar; my guess is that every electronic object would be able to connect to it, such as cameras, light signals, etc. By using that signal, it serves as its eyes and ears. We were going to use this gun to create a sound."

"A loud sound such as that would give our location away."

"Not if we muffle it."

"You completely can't muffle a gunshot."

That's the goal; the robot knows that there is a gun; hiding it now won't make a difference. Since there is only one, we can oversee this". The man began to walk down an aisle of cans and bottles. He grabs a 20-ounce soda bottle. The man opens the bottle and pores out the contents on the floor.

The sound of liquid pattering on the floor became obvious to everyone in the room.

The man walked back to the store counter and started going through several drawers, After searching for a while, he pulled out a roll of duct tape. "When the Arch Angel Beta is in range, I am going to fire the gun; a couple shots should be enough". The man unloaded the magazine from the small handgun and placed it on the store counter. The man placed the 20-ounce bottle on the muzzle of the gun and began to tape the bottle to the muzzle. "The bottle will act as a silencer to 'somewhat' silence the shots I am going to fire into the air."

"The ARCH_ANGEL_Betas can use other machines, including itself as it is an extension of its eyes and ears. My guess is that makeshift weapon to fool the machine."

"Yup, the plan is to use this so the ARCH_ANGEL_Beta can't pinpoint our exact location and will give a false one in return. All I would have to do is fire, and this makeshift silencer would throw off our location". The man began to walk towards a door that would lead up to the roof. "We are risking a lot on the one chance that this might work, so if you want to leave before the robot comes, now is your chance."

There was silence in the room.

With that, the man placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door. The man headed up the stairs.

-Present Time-

There was a loud thud as the man slammed his foot on the edge of the roof.

From his vantage point, he could see the ARCH_ANGEL_Beta robot approaching.

He had to time this right.

The ARCH_ANGEL_Betas did not just rush blindly into every situation.

They had to access the situation, and then they would choose the best method to act given the situation presented to them.

The man stood on top of the roof, watching the robot like an owl watching a rodent from a tree in the distance.

Choosing his best moment to attack.

The robot was the man's prey.

He had to time this right.

In his hand was a small handgun, and attached to it was a makeshift silencer made from a 20-ounce soda bottle and tape.

The plan was simple.

The ARCH_ANGEL_Betas robots would use a signal to search for any available electronics. It could hack into any security service.

He had to time this right.

One moment.

The robot appeared and moved in front of the store.

Suddenly, there was silence.

The calm before the storm.

Everything was quiet.

The man stood atop the store, lying in wait, watching from above.

Like one of the big cats in the wild who would sit and wait in the cover of grass, watching its prey drink water at the lake, waiting for the one moment to strike.

Waiting for the moment when it was at its most vulnerable.

The moment was when its guard was down.

The man on the roof inched forward.

Weapon in hand.

One moment.

If the lion attacked too early or was spotted, the prey would run. Chase would give. Normally, this would not mean much to a lion or any big cat due to the fact that they were some of the fastest land runners in the wild, but just because you were fast did not mean you would catch your prey. Some animals would fight back. In one case, a zebra being chased used its hind legs to attack the chasing lioness, and it would escape.

Worst-case scenario: if the big cat failed to catch its prey, it would most likely go hungry. If he failed, the man on the roof would not get a second chance. The robot would use that high-pitch frequency to disarm them until the proper authority came and apprehended them. Since Fragments, espers, Magicians, and spellcasters are all humans, ordinary humans with no powers would still succumb to the effect.

Everything was silent.

The small robot was standing outside the corner store.

Inside the store, tension was high.

The large man leaned heavily on the wall. Everyone in the room was well hidden behind food shelves. waiting for the man above to strike. The large man's face fogged up the glass as he peered out the window and saw the robot.

The large man was anxious. The tension was killing him.

Without that wall in between them, the man would be at least a foot away. Staring face-to-face at each other, man and machine.

The man on the roof never lost focus on his prey.

Watching.

One moment.

One moment would decide it all.

The air began to pick up.

The man on the roof began to move his index finger on and off the trigger of the gun, slowly playing with it. He knew that when the moment presented itself, he would have to act.

With all the tension in the air, it was truly the calm before the storm. The silence. The moment came when everything was on the line. The moment that would decide victors and losers.

The final basketball shot in any tied playoff game.

The 50-yard field goal during the last few seconds of the Super Bowl, where the kicking team decides to risk everything on one kick.

In any other situation, the crowd would be screaming and cheering, but it was silent.

You can train your whole life. You spend every moment going over different scenarios in your head, but nothing in life could prepare you for a moment like this.

The tension was high.

The man on the roof was sweating as he watched from above.

The large man was breathing heavily as he watched from inside the corner store.

In one moment, he knew that everything would change.

Everything was silent.

The man closed his eyes to relax.

"Beep"

The man on the roof's heart skipped a beat as he heard the sound. It broke his tense concentration. He knows that because he attacked early, everything was lost.

"Beep"

The large man in the corner store tried to slow his breathing down as he heard the sound coming from the robot. At any given moment, everything would change.

"ARCH_ANGEL_Beta model number 105 is accessing the situation."

The man on the roof slowly placed his index finger on the handgun.

The robot spoke again. "Activating Signal Scan."

His hands were trembling. His finger was sweaty, and even though he fired several shots inside the corner store, he was on the roof trembling. Their whole plan rested on the man on the roof.

Waiting.

Then there was a sound.

The sound broke through the quietness.

The man on the roof reacted.

It must have been for a second, but the man reacted.

The man opened his eyes quickly, and with that, he raised his left arm. In the hand of the left arm was a small handgun with a makeshift plastic bottle silencer, to the point that it was pointed to the sky above.

His finger was on the trigger.

The man used his right arm to cover his ear.

It must have been for a second, but the man presses down on the trigger. His finger felt heavy as he fired the one shot that ripped through the morning sky of New York City. The sound was very light; it almost did not sound like a gunshot. It sounded more like a pop.

Inside the corner store, the large man had heard a light gunshot.

(That was the gunshot.) The large man thought to himself. The ARCH_ANGEL_Beta would pick up the faint gunshot sound through its scanner and begin to react.

The large man quickly closed his eyes; he did not want to see how the robot would act.

On the roof, the man was adjusting himself.

He looked at the handgun in his hand; the soda bottle silencer was destroyed. The bullet had shot straight through.

The bottom half was mostly gone. It served its purpose.

The man on the roof looked down from the roof and watched how the robot would react.

Slowly watching.

"Processing result of the signal scan"

The robot broke through the quiet tension with its voice.

The man on the roof watched and listened.

Everything rests on the man's plan to get rid of the robot.

The man watched.

The robot started to light up in various places.

"Relaying information...Beep... relaying information to the nearest source to bounce off the relay point."

The large man in the corner store began to squeeze his eyes shut as he hoped that the plan would work.

On the roof, the man began taking apart the makeshift silencer made from a 20 oz. soda bottle from the gun as he watched how the machine would react.

His gaze never left.

"Report on the situation," the robot said. "Report on the signal scan that was conducted at approximately 7:02 A.M. on Thursday, May 28, 2009, in response to several gunshots. The signal scan picked up one single faint gunshot. The signal scan was unable to pinpoint the exact location of the gunshot."

Suddenly, the machine moved on.

The man on the roof was surprised.

There were no words to describe what the man on the roof was feeling.

The man was a whirlwind of emotions.

One emotion was excitement—that the plan had worked.

Another emotion was shock and disbelief—that the plan "had" worked.

The plan was downright ridiculous.

The actual percentage that the plan would work was not so high that they would risk their freedom on the slim chance that it would work. But the men had to take the risk. All or nothing was the situation that the men were presented with.

They had to take it, and it worked.

Now they were in the clear.

The situation has changed.

Inside the corner store, the large man opened his eyes, and because his eyes were shut, everything was blurry. It took a while for the blurriness to wear off, but when it did, the large man did not see the robot outside.

The large man sighed heavily as he slid down the wall.

"It worked; the plan worked."

The man was relieved.

He began to look around the corner store. As he looked, he spotted a small wine cellar. He picked himself up off the floor and headed for the cellar.

Kreeeeeeek.

The sound of the door opening on the roof

The man started heading downstairs to meet the others.

Step by step, he headed downstairs.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped at the door.

He stood there.

Thinking.

(I guess we can get what we came for and leave without a problem.)

With that, the man opened the door and walked in on an unsuspecting sight.

"Cheers"!

The sound of glass bottles hitting with a clang.

The four men inside the room were drinking.

The man sighed in disbelief.

"Here"

One of the men tossed him a wine bottle. He caught it with his left hand, as his right was carrying the gun.

"We are already drinking."

"Hey, it's noon somewhere.

"Yeah, after what happened out there, we need a drink. Wouldn't you agree?"

The man looked at the label on the wine bottle; the language on the label was German.

"You know that imported wine is the most expensive."

"At almost two grand a bottle, I'd better be pissing out gold."

The man broke the tip of the wine bottle on the wall, then drank from the broken top. He almost gagged as he swallowed the wine.

Damn, this crap is terrible," the man spouted as he was wiping his mouth. "Well if you're done playing around, we have something important to do."

"Yeah, yeah, let’s get to it."

The large man headed out the door for guard duty. Since the day was about to begin, a lot of the students would stop off at the various corner stores across the city for breakfast or to drop off their electronics.

Suddenly, there was a whimper.

The leader turned around to see a family tied up on the floor.

"Oh, and what do we have here?"

 

6: Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 1
Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live. Part 1

That survival instinct, that will to live, that need to get back to life again, is more powerful than any consideration of taste, decency, politeness, manner, civility.

Anything.

It's such a powerful force.

-Danny Teenle.
 

Chapter 1: Part 1: Survival of the Fittest. The will to live.

Part 1

Date: Thursday, May 28, 2009

Time: 6:42:56 A.M.

Location: Bronx, NEO New York City.

BANG!

A single gunshot broke out.

BANG!

Another gunshot broke out.

The gunshots continued.

One by one.

One after another.

Each shot echoing.

The gunshots continued.

In the early quiet morning, several gunshots broke out in a small corner store in NEO New York City.

Ten to be exact, and with that, the magazine fell out of the gun and landed on the floor with a "clink".

On the other side of the room, the obvious target for those 10 bullets.

A gray radio.

A small radio that sat on a dresser stand.

The radio, which now had three bullet holes in it.

The wall behind the broken radio had seven bullet holes, as it missed the radio completely.

Damn!" A voice broke out. "It is a lot harder to hit a small target when a small handgun recoils like that, huh?"

In the small room, the voice came from a man dressed in black sitting atop the store-counter. In his hand was a Beretta M9A1 Semi-Automatic Pistol.

A handgun.

To some, a handgun was nothing more than a weapon, but to the man on the counter who fired the ten shots into a small radio, it meant the world to him.

A sign of dominance.

A sign of power.

Back to the radio.

The small piece of scrap did not deserve to be called to a radio after the damage it suffered. It looked like nothing more than Swiss cheese.

One man spoke from the other side of the room: Dude, what the hell is your problem?" The man walking down the store aisle dressed in all black said this to the man sitting at the store counter, waving the gun around, looking for another object to call target practice.

The man on the store counter looked back and reached into his pockets of his dark black jacket and pulled out another magazine for his handgun and loaded it into his gun as he found a new target to set his gun on.

One man spoke angrily, Hey, did you know how hard it was to smuggle that gun and the bullets into this city without tipping off the police and other authorities?"

"We don't have enough bullets for you to be shooting recklessly, especially at a useless target."

"I know that," spat the man on the counter as he closed one of his eyes to focus. "Unless you're permitted by the damn city, you can't hold one of these bad teens, let alone own one. I was just getting used to it. We weren't able to sneak that many in to use, so we had no practice with them."

"So, what of it?" The man in the aisle said, We've got a few, and that's all that matters, Would you agree?"

The man on the counter lowered the weapon and adjusted himself to face everyone.

"But why is that? I mean, this city is fixing its population to become superpowered freaks. The city exists for that one purpose. The city tells you what to do, what time to be inside, what rules to follow, and how to follow them, and that's if you are useful to them; if not, you are swept under the rug as an existence not even worth mentioning. When did the majority become less friendly to these superpowered freaks"?

The man at the counter tightened the grip of the small black handgun in his hand and said, "I don't want to live in a city with regulations like that". To the man on the counter, the weapon was a sign of power that could not be denied; to him, it was a part of him to be used in any way he wanted, his own power.

"But what can you do about it, man? Those rules were set up by the higher-ups. Did you forget that most of the population are kids and teenagers?" A voice spoke out.

No, I did not forget that." The man at the counter adjusted himself slightly and placed his hand on the side of his face.

"And those are not kids; those are monsters". He continued as he adjusted the tone of his voice.

An eerie sight for those watching.

Half his body was covered in shadows as he spoke.

As if the man was swallowed by the ever-growing shadows.

The man's demeanor changes drastically.

"For whatever reason, personal or otherwise, the majority of the population of its city abandoned humanity a long time ago to obtain powers.

"Magicians, Spell-casters, Fragments, and espers—this whole city exists for them... The city's pride and joy don't make me laugh."

The man at the counter began to focus on the weapon in his hand.

To the man on the counter, this weapon is his answer to the gap of power between him and the superpowered population.

The man on the counter readjusted himself and prepared to fire again at a tower of cans.

Suddenly, there were three knocks on the window glass from outside of the corner store, breaking the tension in the room.

The four men inside, dressed in black, knew what that meant.

Somebody was coming.

"Already huh?" The man on the store counter said, "Keep quiet, everyone, and this will pass."

The door to the corner store opened, and the bell was attached to the wall so that when the door opened, the store owner would be aware of customers. With that knowledge in mind, everyone's eyes in the store focused on the door, and with that, a large man walked in dressed in all black from his head to his toe.

The large man walks in and closes the door to the corner store behind him.

The large man turns around to face the leader of the now five men dressed in black. The man on the counter spoke.

"So, who is coming?"

The large man at the door spoke: "It''s one of those robots that pollute the city, it must have heard the gunshot from inside the store."

And with that statement, everybody looked at the man sitting atop the store counter.

"Hey, hey don't look at me," the man said jokingly. "I was just testing the weapon; it would have been worse to find out when we need it and it does not work. Would you not agree?"

"Well, none of that matters now, does it?"

(So, what now?) With the threat approaching, the man on the counter thought to himself. (What do we do now?)

New York City, the technologically futuristic city with a population of a little less than 8.2 million people, has managed to build a line of "Helper robots," or so they were called. They help the city and its not-so-normal population with everyday tasks throughout The City of New York. The robots would pick up litter, tend to the residents of New York City, and alert emergency crews for any problems within the city.

The robot in question that was approaching was the new security robot. It was a new prototype line of robots introduced to help the police fight its superpowered population.

With the population of New York City, you had to introduce something that could oversee reality warpers who could create and destroy on a whim or when certain conditions were met. The main way the robots dealt with the reality warpers was with a High Pitch Frequency the robots would give off to subdue the perpetrator(s) in question.

The High Pitch Frequency was enough to disarm most of the population within the city.

The sound affected the brain and created a situation where one power could not be used without hurting the user or anyone nearby, as most reality warpers needed to concentrate for their powers to work. A magician or spell-caster can manipulate certain events and their surroundings with certain objects and spells and call it magic. Fragments and Espers initially follow the same pattern in executing their powers, for espers, they would have to manipulate their "Invisible Angelic Aura" surrounding their bodies to use their powers, and fragments would have to be near or in contact with the element they are aligned with to manipulate.

The magician or spellcaster would ultimately have to create a situation where the power would exist to bring their power into this world. If one had all the magical objects correctly set up, they would be able to use magic, but if the brain was affected and the magician or spell-caster would activate the spell in question, the spell would backfire on the user the same way it would an esper of fragment since they have to mentally create the situation in which their powers would work via their concentration. Ultimately, if the brain is affected, it can render one's power unusable.

A voice spoke, "What do we do now?" The voice came from a man who was in between the aisles of food and kitchen supplies.

"Think."

The answer came from the man sitting on the counter.

"Think?" said the man at the door. "It was your recklessness that got us into this, and now you want us to think, How the hell are we supposed to combat a system designed to handle reality warpers"?

"We point out the flaw within the system."

"Flaw? What flaw?"

Please, this is  NEO New York City those robots were built by the city. There is no way in hell the have a flaw that we can exploit". the man sounded desperate trying to figure out the situation.

"It simple really, We asses the situation"

"And then what? The man at the door cut him off.

"If you would let me finish, I was getting to my point; we look at what's there and what isn't there, then we move on from there."

"What?"

The man on the counter sighed in disbelief at that statement. What he was imposing was a plan that would get rid of the problem approaching the corner store. To the other four men in the room, his plan sounded crazy. A flaw in a system that was created to oversee NEO New York City super powered population. It sounded far-fetched because none of the five men had any powers themselves.

What hope did they have?

Aright, listen up," was all that he managed to say before he started speaking again.

"According to the official citywide report that was released a few months ago when the robots were first introduced to the NEO New York City public, they were labeled as ARCH_ANGEL_Beta Versions for something bigger. So, one can assume that they are still beta versions, with only 263 that were produced."

Alright," the man at the door spoke, "If they are beta versions, what difference does that make?"

"You don't understand how software releases work, don't you? There are four stages to how software is released, and no matter how great or advanced the technology of the city is, it is not going to take a big risk of it not working, especially in NEO New York City."

Everything was quiet.

"First stage: The Pre-Alpha Phase: The information gathering stage, the charts, the hypothetical, the statistics, and so on. The NEO New York City Power Development and Regulation Program is a city-wide program in which the city helps develop powers through both scientific and magical means, such as spell-casters and espers, and helps regulate those that are born with their powers, such as fragments and wizards. Because the city is so close to the development of one's powers, the person's powers would be added to the Ability Registry List. From there, the city always knows who has what powers and how their powers can be used; the more powers the city can produce, the more information it can gather for the robots"?

The man on the counter slightly moved around a bit.

"The next stage would be the Alpha Phase: With all the information gathered from the Ability Registry List, NEO New York City can produce the robots. The main function of this part is to evaluate the core functionality to see if it works as intended. This phase would include a bunch of bugs, but if it passes the bare minimum, then the city cannot label it a complete failure, as it was expected to fail. Then would be the stage we are at now: The Beta Testing stage. At this stage, the program is released to the public to see how it would function in an open testing environment and what it can improve on. This is where we exploit the flaw in the system."

The man at the door peered outside the window and saw the ARCH_ANGEL_Beta robot coming.

"So how do we exploit that flaw?"

"Compare the beta version to the other robots that monitor and maintain the city, and it is obvious that anyone can see the difference between the

ARCH_ANGEL_Beta and the 20000 ANGEL_LINE Helper robots that were mass produced and are still being mass produced For one, consider their numbers for dealing with the situation across the city. Because the Angel Line robots fall under the Guardian Angel Security System, their main order never deviates from the main security system objective: To maintain order and protect the city. That is why it is not odd to see multiple ANGEL_LINE robots attending to the same problem across the city, ranging from a few to a dozen on the same problem, because they are all linked up to each other. If a problem exists, Guardian_Angel will see to it that it gets erased."

The man leaped off the store counter.

"So, the flaw we exploit is the ARCH_ANGEL_Beta lack of numbers. The ANGEL_LINE robots are scattered across the city; they are within signal range of each other and are always linked up to the GUARDIAN_ANGEL system for better efficiency. The ARCH_ANGEL_Beta may not be linked to that same system."

"How would you know that?"

"Think about it; no matter how you look at it, it is impossible for a machine to have that many functions without overloading and breaking down. For example, on any device you have, if you were to run many applications and programs in the background, your device would slow down. That is why there are so many of the ANGEL_LINE robots running about; they are the robots that maintain order. In order to attend to every need of the users, sacrifices must be made. The computer will sacrifice speed for the functionality of all the programs; the same applies here. The robots cannot have both orders to maintain order in New York City and be ready to combat the superpowered population if they need to; it has to be split up."

"So, I will ask again, how do we exploit the flaw?" The man at the door said.

"I said if we looked at what was there and what was not, we would be able to exploit the flaw. All the robots in the city have a wireless transmitter attached to them, so they are always in range of each other. My guess is that the city monitors everything that occurs and handles everything within the city. With each signal bouncing off each ANGEL_LINE robot like a cell tower, they can respond to every situation across the city. If we assume that the Arch Angel Betas are not linked up to the Guardian Angel security system and are in limited numbers, then there is a strong possibility we can get what we came for and leave."

"So how do we do it?"

"With this," as the man held the gun in his hand.

7: Prologue: Part 2: Last Day Until The End of the World
Prologue: Part 2: Last Day Until The End of the World

In a dark room.

 

"Did you hear?"

 

A female voice spoke out.

 

"Hear what?"

 

"Apparently the city was infiltrated by one person".

 

"Why are you telling us this?"

 

"Yeah wouldn't this fall to the police?"

 

"There that, but you see there was a bounty given out for the intruder".

 

"Huh?"

 

"Well I'd be dammed".

 

"That new".

 

"Yeah I never heard of a bounty being placed on a intruder".

 

"Must be someone very important".

 

"The bounty was given out to all the magical organizations and cabals through out the city".

 

"Who order the bounty?"

 

"It does not say"

 

"So upon contacting us magicians they contact others magicians as well, and all out magical war and for what a person. That does not seem odd to any one?".

 

"Well the whole bounty order is crap, there is no posting of a reward-"

 

"I was talking about who the bounty was placed on dummy".

 

"Hey I was getting to that".

 

"Well 'who' was the bounty placed on any way?"

 

"It only came with a picture and a list of descriptions. Let me see.............Blue and black hair, dual-colored, blue eyes, between four feet tall, and is wearing a blue dress. That's it".

 

The woman started at the picture in her hand.

 

"This person is a small child".

 

"A child?".

 

"Who would be after a child?".

 

"Obviously some one who is after what the child has her possession".

 

The voice came from a man sitting in the shadows.

 

The man spoke.

 

"Let see, the bounty order was given out to all the magicians cabals throughout the city, but what organization is the biggest, the one which would know if there is an intruder in the first place?".

 

"...................."

 

"The city?".

 

"Yes".

 

"Why the city?"

 

"There are many magicians through out the city with various powers such as ours, which leaves me to only speculate that she has some thing that can transcend our power".

 

".............."

 

"Can something like that truly exist, an item that can surpass our power?".

 

"Yes, magic was founded on belief that ordinary humans can achieve a power that was similar to the true gods and angels".

 

"The true gods and angels?".

 

"Yes, there are certain weapons and powers which can access a greater form of power the likes of which we had never seen before, the power that can create and end everything. A true gods power".

 

The man stood up from is chair and began walking towards a large glass window over looking the city.

“A power I once had in my fingertips, a power I once thought lost to me”

 

The man grinned face at the window.

 

"If that the case then why is the city after that power?".

 

"The same reason why New York City allows us to stay here and practice magic".

 

"............."

 

"To achieve a higher power".

 

"Huh, what do you mean".

 

"Despite it size NEO New York City is a country, and like any country it desires more. There is no doubt that the city or 'he' is after that power. Instead of weapons of mass destruction or an army, NEO New York City wields those that have powers like pawns. The entire city can be thought of as a chess board, there are certain roles that are filled out, but then the most important piece in chess is the king, which our chancellor rules unopposed”

 

The man placed his palm on the glass of the window.

 

”I will that the girl and her power for myself reclaim what was lost to me once. Rebuild our city a new home, a world better. With the city as our new capital, a new world”

 

The other people in room kneeled.

 

”Sir at long last the time has come”

 

“Yes our 5,000 year prayer will be answered”

The man turned around to face his still kneeling subjects and began walking to chair.

 

”Tonight this city and this world will suffer a paradigm shift unlike any other”

 

“I will reclaim my Godhood and lead our people to a new world”

The man sat down in his chair.

 

“When all of that succeeds I will meet our chancellor our pretender king with one question”

 

"What would the question be?"

The man smirked.

"What is a king to a God?"

 

8: Prologue: Part 1: NEO New York City
Prologue: Part 1: NEO New York City

NEO New York City.

Bronx.

Queens.

Manhattan.

Brooklyn.

Staten Island.

NEO New York City.

New Amsterdam.

The City.

Gotham.

Metropolis.

The City So Nice they Named it Twice. 

The Big Apple. 

The Empire City.

The Five Burroughs.

The Melting Pot. 

The City That Never Sleeps.

The Capital of the World.

The City at The Center of the Universe.

The City of The Fallen Angel.

The City With Everything.

Just a city.

A small city.

Originally founded just like any other city in the United States and named the same way.

NEO New York City is just the same as you would read it in the ordinary history books, with the pages falling apart, pages ripped in a normal school where the building is older than everyone that attends, with the school lawn have a little to or no patches of grass and read by a normal school student who attended a ordinary school in a ordinary building in a ordinary city in a ordinary world that is not New York City. 

The City Motto.

 "Ad quod obtinendum scientia Universo". 

To Obtain Knowledge of the Universe.

The questions: What is out there in the universe? What is the universe? How big is the universe? and the biggest question of them all- If the universe size is infinite, are we the only species in the universe?

The city relies on both Science and Magic for answers to those questions.

It purpose to understand the larger universe and all it properties. It accept the known and unknown. The which can be explained and the what cannot be explained.

The two opposites.

The Yin and Yang of our world.

Two sides of the same coin.

Only when opposite are in unity together can harmony be achieved, or so the saying goes.

This one city surrounded by walls that cut itself off from the rest of the world to obtain the answers it is searching for.

The entire city exist for the that one purpose. It poured all of it resources into constructing the perfect city.

Here in this large advanced technological city with a population of 8,175,133. This metropolis like city, made up of white buildings which give the city the appearance of something out of futuristic sci-fi movie. It give the New York City skyline an appearance to die for.

A truly amazing sight.

The white city.

Legend has it that the city was founded by an fallen angel, which is why the city has its appearance.

It was the just the same. 

NEO New York City is it own little small world,

Within a bigger world.

A much bigger world........................