Age of Space

“Ahh, this is the life,” Ronin said as he took a deep swig of taste optimized water, then leaned back into a lazy stretch.

He felt as if he’d lost weight. His movements were smooth, there was a lightness to his step and his range of motion was better than ever.

Any old remaining injury he'd had was now gone and that included the headache he often felt after practicing in the VR chamber.

And on that note, his mind felt great as well. After reaching the 9th stance of the Kalvrakian Embrace, most of the cracks to his mind palace had begun rapidly healing. And though his thinking speed remained the same, his mind felt... lighter somehow, more flexible.

The only remaining issue was the smell… He’d already been in and out of the biorinser over 10 times at this point, but that damn remnant odor just wouldn’t leave.

Nevertheless, he had a ship to build. He put the micro-spanner back into his mouth and went back into the Hemsway-D8.

His arms and face grimy from the delicate work, moved with purpose as bolts and screws were fastened, panels aligned, and electrical sockets installed.

The hours passed and it wasn't long before the shuttle was finally finished. Ronin, struggling to contain his excitement, did a final round of pre-flight diagnostics. Everything looked good. The ship was ready for a test flight. He ordered the factory bots to move the ship out onto the runway. Trailing shortly behind the ship, he entered the cockpit the moment the bots left.

Here goes nothing!

He activated the engine.

VHOOM!

The smooth hum of a healthy engine spread out across the runway.

The initial boot-up seems good, he thought, a hopeful smile emerging on his lips.

Ronin had long since memorized how to fly this thing. He'd never flown before and didn't exactly have a license, but this was his machine, he'd built it, and it needed a test pilot.

He coupled his implant to the flight controls and began pulling back the control stick.

The freshly built Hemsway began slowly rising from the ground as he monitored the cockpit for any anomalies.

This is it! I’m actually doing it! I’m actually doing it! Ronin screamed inwardly as the shuttle rose higher and higher.

As the ship continued climbing, he slowly started pressing down on the gas pedal, and the ship started slowly moving forward.

Everything seemed to be in order. He leveled the control stick and pressed the pedal down further. The cockpit still showed everything as nominal.

A wide grin emerged on his face as he couldn't hold it in anymore.

Not hesitating for a moment longer, he clamped down the pedal, pushing it all the way down and accelerated at full speed ahead.

Rushing forward at maximum acceleration, it didn’t take long before the smoggy air ahead revealed massive skyscrapers, blocking his line of sight.

Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, he turned, avoiding the first skyscraper, then turned again, dodging the next.

“Hahaha, yes!” He exclaimed as he rushed ahead, leaning into each turn he made as he dodged the incoming obstacles. Once he started approaching the Ironglades speed limit, he took his foot off the gas. Despite the ships speed not actually being that high, it felt fast. In each and every turn, he felt the g-forces pressing him into his seat, it felt exhilarating.

I get it now, why the designers skimped on the internal dampeners. The ship feels almost alive, each turn, with my entire body, I feel it working, bringing me and the machine closer.

After some time, he finally did a wide turn, steering the shuttle back towards the factory.

Though it wasn't a fast ship, nor a very hard one to drive, it was his. Built with his own two hands. Even better, it worked exactly as described in the blueprint.

This was not only a confirmation to himself that he knew what he was doing, it was the first full ship he’d ever made. Besides getting accepted into the academy, this was the first real step he’d taken towards his dream of being a designer... and it felt good.

Simons marveled at the size of the factory as he was guided towards the entrance by security guards.

To be working at such a large professional facility so early in his career was an incredible opportunity, but the incident a couple of days back, had put a serious dampener on his excitement. Had he just made a deal with the devil?

The factory gate opened, and he walked inside. From alloy compression machines to a state-of-the-art 3-D printer, the facility was equipped with anything an aspiring designer could wish for, but where was Ronin?

A soft grunt and a foul smell redirected his attention, and he looked up, noticing a scarred youth doing hanging sit-ups from atop the factory beams.

“Uh, Ronin?”

The youth turned his head, pausing momentarily before flashing a grin.

“Just a moment, I’m almost done,” Ronin said, then proceeded to do another 20 sit-ups before dropping down.

Simons was shocked, had his new colleague just dropped down from over 10 meters above ground without even flinching? Ronin didn’t even seem to register it as significant as he walked over.

“What’s up? Ready to work? I’ve got a couple of designs ready for us to practice with before we-“

“Before any of that,” Simons interrupted.

“A few days back, we all suddenly had to leave right as you entered the toilet,” Simons said before signaling his implant, bringing up several holograms showing a range of news reports describing the events that day.

“They're calling it an act of bioterrorism you know… Hundreds of cases of unconsciousness, shuttles crashing, stores, restaurants and banks have had to close… just what kind of organization have I signed myself into? I deserve to know.”

As the news reports kept rolling, Ronin raised his hands in surrender, “I guess there is no avoiding this huh? Ok, look, I will neither confirm nor deny any involvement in this,” he said, waving one of his hands at the various holograms.

“But say, purely hypothetically speaking-“

“Hypothetically speaking?” Simons echoed.

“Hypothetically speaking, If I was involved in any way, it would’ve been entirely accidental! I sometimes get a very bad stomachache, and I may have been taken by surprise that day, but never again!”

Simons, still suspicious, nodded hesitantly.

We did have to leave rather abruptly that day, so it does fit his explanation…Also, who knows what's going on with this guy's body? He just jumped down from over 10 meters and didn’t even flinch, he thought.

Having already signed a contract with the company, and invested greatly in surgeries and training, it was a little late to back out now anyways. He’d give Ronin the benefit of the doubt, for now.

“Now, come, I will let you pick the first design we get to practice on today and I’ve got to tell you, we’ve got some good ones,” Ronin said, attempting to place a hand on Simons’ shoulder.

“Please stay away from me, you stink.” Simons said, hastily backing away.

“Oww, come on! It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“It is, and don’t talk so loud, it makes the smell spread more.”

“Ok, now you’re just screwing with me!”

“You know what they’re calling you on the net now? The Defiler. I think I’m well within my rights to ask for some distance.”

“I said it could be hypothetically me; I didn't say it was!”

“Doesn’t smell hypothetical.”

The Defiler, previously known as Ronin, guided Simons towards the design studio. Though, the scene looked rather peculiar, considering Ronin had to stay several meters away while doing so. He didn't want to, but Simons wouldn't have it any other way.

The next few weeks passed by fast, fortunately, the smell did as well.

Between playing “Glory in the Arena”, working out, building ships with Simons, doing homework, practicing the Kalvrakian Embrace and dealing with the odd assassination attempt, Ronin barely noticed the improvements to his mental palace.

He simply didn’t have the time. But when the last crack was gone and his imaginary representation of the goliath class mothership, The Worldmaker, once again became perfect, he was forced to notice.

As a surge of electricity ran through his body, his eyes opened to a world of unparalleled mental clarity. It felt as if a cloud of fog had just been lifted from his eyes and he could finally see again.

It’s time, he thought as he, once again, began feeling out the various closed doors occupying his mental palace.

He'd done this before and was pretty sure which door he'd pick, but he had to be certain.

Out of all the doors in the Potentia Panorama, very few gave off a feeling of stealth. This was likely due to how domineering the alien who’d gifted him this legacy was. But the fact that there were only a few doors, didn't mean that there were none.

He needed a stealth technique, badly. It was his only viable path towards finding Ghost Butcher.

He walked along the gangways of the giant ship, turning corner after corner, feeling out each and every door related to stealth. Finally, he came to a stop. One of the larger doors stood before him. It demanded a price, but this time, he was ready to pay it.

It was about the size of the one he’d opened earlier, the one containing the battle soul technique.

Out of all the ones at this size or smaller, this door gave off the closest feeling to what he wanted. As he leaned up to it and focused, he got the distinct feeling of sneaking, hiding, deception and evasion.

Centering himself, making sure he was absolutely ready, he gave the door a firm push and with a POP, it blasted open, flooding his mind with knowledge.

Back in the real world, Ronin was laying down on the ground, his eyes flickering around uncontrollably as his eyelids fluttered up and down in rapid succession.

As he lay there, completely out of it, the minutes ticked by. Suddenly, it stopped, and Ronin's eyes snapped open. He checked his mindscape. There were cracks, but nothing serious.

This should work perfectly, he thought.

He began organizing the new memories:

Snapshot: any opponent needs senses to interact with the world. Take advantage of the moment their senses lose focus to attack. On the fields of strife, inattention means death, but inattention is unavoidable, this is the realm of the snapshot.

There were plenty of moves and tricks here to work on, but most relevant to him right now, was the human eyeblink. If he could move efficiently enough and to the right position every time the other person blinked their eyes, he could effectively become invisible.

But to continually remain invisible, he needed more. Snapshot wasn't enough. That's where the second technique came in:

Presenceless: By dawning a mental mask strong enough, anyone around the warrior can either be forced to look at the warrior or somewhere else. Deceive the opponent and forcibly create a snapshot when there is none.

A more advanced technique, Presenceless, seemed to rely a lot on psychology. The sheer amount of information the door contained on different forms of alien subconscious body languages and how to influence it was astonishing to say the least.

With these two techniques, as well as with the little bit of extra know-how he’d just gained, it should be possible to put a tracker on Argus.

He accessed his implant and updated his status table:

Name Ronin Maximus

Paradigm Potentia Panorama

Gates Great gates (0/9), Major gates (0/2187), Minor gates (3/17487)

Body strengthening Stances: Kalvrakian Embrace vol.1 (10/108)

Mind strengthening Battle soul

Combat techniques Near-Death-Sight (3.5x/??), enhanced instincts, Snapshot, Presenceless

“Alright, time to get to work,” Ronin said aloud, rolling his shoulders.

He may have acquired the basic knowledge on how to do the two techniques, but he needed practice if he wanted to master them.

Fortunately, there was a whole city of people out there to practice on.

If I'm going to head out without armor, I'll need a disguise, he thought as he started looking around the factory.

As a first order of business, he began scouring the building for rare clothes he rarely wore, then, after that was done, he accessed the net, shopping for whatever else he lacked. And after a fervent search, jumping from site to site as he shopped, he was finally done.

Somehow, he'd ended up browsing several female websites along the way, but with what he'd gotten, he should be able to pass any casual inspection, easily.

As the merchandise arrived, Ronin carefully put on the new makeup. After, he changed into a new set of clothing. He'd chosen a set of concrete gray overalls as well as a gray hoodie. Finally, he dropped liquid gel onto his eyes, changing his golden colored irises into mundane black.

He brought up a hologram of himself, inspecting his new look. He looked like a completely different person, but that was the point. He was going out today, and without any protection at that. With a bounty like his, the last thing he wanted was to get recognized without his armor on.

He entered his Hemsway-D8, started the engine, then headed towards one of the deeper valleys of Ironglades.

“…”

The blue and green neon lights of restaurants, nutrient pack stores and shopping centers, changed into the more unsavory red as he flew deeper and deeper into the valley.

Before long, the light from the sun faded into dusky dimness, and nearly every store around, flickered in bright red.

This was the land of pubs, casinos and brothels.

It was perfect.

Finding a gated parking lot, Ronin paid for a spot, then left for one of the more crowded pubs.

I guess I should first dawn a mental mask, let’s see… what sort of image would be the most effective?

The more terrifying of an image he imagined, the more his own body would subconsciously react, affecting the people around him. He needed to believe in the mental image he conjured, but what sort of image would be enough?

He thought about the fear he’d felt when he realized that his breathing mask didn’t work back on Exodon.

No, the fear of not being able to breathe is not direct enough. It has to be something concrete, like a man, creature, or an event...

He thought about the terror he’d felt in the abandoned city, when the Eizenshaft radiation mutated Arguses hunters into monsters.

It could work but…

There was this one memory in his mind. It wasn’t his, but if he could use it, it could be more effective than anything...

“…”

He entered the pub, quietly finding a wall to lean on amidst a group of rowdy pub dwellers.

“Finally, we’re free of those damn ruddles! I never thought it would end!” A man near him shouted.

“Hrugh! That’s just media propaganda!” Another broke in. He continued, “we all know the expression…Uh, how did it go again… Ah, now I remember! How do you know when the media is lying?”

Several others followed up in unison, “When they open their mouths!”

The crowd broke into laughter.

“Still-,” the first man near Ronin continued after the laughter died down, “People seem less worried lately. Stores are open and people walk around outside, it must have gotten a little bit better at least.”

Several others around him nodded in agreement.

Trying to ignore the rowdy atmosphere, Ronin recalled the moment he possessed the four-armed alien.

He focused on the feelings the alien had felt… he'd felt, when the alien punched the giant fractal gate, and that dark foul energy rushed out.

The pub goers continued shouting and laughing.

Ronin closed his eyes… The mental image became clearer. As if the universe itself was ending, feelings of horror, fear and desperation washed over him. He wavered on the brink of collapse as he tried to focus on those negative emotions… To strengthen them.

More… MORE!

He was about to die... everything was about to die!

“Apocalypse,” Ronin wordlessly muttered as he compressed everything into a singular image.

The energy from the alien artifact was always within him. It needed to be released every now and again, but it never truly ran out, not completely.

Tiny motes of this energy, now, began compressing, almost turning liquid as it entered his brain.

He looked towards the bar, attempting to place the image of the apocalypse itself onto the bar counter…

There. He locked the image firmly in place.

Now, let’s see if this thing will work as the Potentia Panorama described. Humans were never really mentioned, so I wasn’t able to use any of the supplementary techniques. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

In the wake of a heated discussion, a pub dweller briefly looked towards one of the walls. His eyes saw a figure leaning against said wall, but his mind didn’t register it. Instead, for some reason, his entire focus was drawn towards the bar counter.

The conversation around him picked up again, but it became difficult for the man to follow along. His eyes kept wandering over to the bar, again and again. Why was that?

Others around him began noticing. As they looked at the man, they, also, started unconsciously looking over towards the bar counter.

Be it by noticing Ronin, or by noticing the guests already affected, more and more people became distracted.

Presenceless spread across the pub like an unseen pandemic, and before long, the once rowdy atmosphere, died down to short grunts and snippets of half-formed conversations.

As Ronin finally pushed himself off from the wall and began walking out, not a single soul noticed. They didn’t even register his existence, or that he had ever existed for that matter. There was something else on their mind… The bar counter…and the funny thing was, not a single one of them had any clue as to why…