Relic sites have always been in my line of expertise. Oh, not because of the countless deaths shed in my name during the SEED invasion or even the absurd fact that I was ostensibly found as a infant inside one. No, it's a much bigger and greater thing than all of us. Than all of the Gurhal system.
But manners are more important than conspiracies.
My name's Dain Callahan, born and raised on the planet of Parum. There's nothing much to me other than my psychotic hallucinations after contact with the SEED three years ago and every part of me that continues to be left unanswered. The questions that are at the fore front of my mind; who I am, where did I come from and why I was left and tossed aside like a piece of paper.
There's the sedation that TV commercials and shows like to feed their viewers; that you are who you are today because of the choices you made yesterday.
What a load of bullshit.
There's the pending demise of the Gurhal system that's waiting to strike us and make it so that NOTHING will be left.
The Communion of Gurhal may be their drug of hope when it comes but that will mean nothing.
So in summary, we're all fucking dead.
Nobody else knows about it.
No one but me.
And that's probably why fate is always trying send me to the void, making sure that the person who can spark a better fire than first world bullshit isn't going to do so.
I'm tired of getting sucked into another fight trying to save the world.
It's really annoying.
Phantasy Star Portable II: Dawn of Awakening
By: Sad-Puppy-Asshole
Spreading Wings - Awakening of an Angel
I hate these things, gatherings that is.
On a normal basis, it'd be the type of conference that involves sophisticated yet greedy business men loitering around the boardroom to talk about statistics. Maybe even the untimely invite to a press meeting that requires me to answer the craziest questions the people of Gurhal can come up with.
This time, it's the communion of paid mercenaries and militant officials hoping to score an exotic ancient artifact for their employees in a relic site.
Not that's necessarily a bad thing.
People like me don't take a job without a good pay check after all. It's not usually worth a hassle if you don't get something out of it. But obviously, there are reasons we're taking this job.
Not ones you might think though.
Greed isn't something that is worn by me.
Detesting the fact that it's one of the reasons why I hate society, it's also something that can blind your values. Transparency beneath obvious facades bleeding into those who refuse and deny their fault. Powerful groups of people that are trying to run the world with their pockets.
They're the ones trying to play God without permission.
Them who prey on the younger and take advantage of the naivety of the world.
And in this line of work, those unfortunate are my students.
They're the future.
Even if they're not exactly the best.
"That's not fair!"
I straighten my tie.
"I haven't even eaten yet!"
Rafael Wylde, one of my students and only sensible of his team mates, stares bemusedly at the chaos unfolding ahead of us. I take one look at my other students and sigh deeply, running a hand through my brown hair.
Two of my students who are by far the biggest thorn in my side are currently wrestling over a piece of sandwich.
Violet Bartholomew and Samuel Hache, two troublesome yet polar opposites who frequently engage in physical scuffles in public when they shouldn't.
"Sam! Quit being a dickhead and hand it over!"
"You ate like five on the way here and me, who's helped boss over there make the sandwiches, has not eaten a single one!
"It doesn't matter because I'm obviously his favorite student," Violet taunts, her tongue showing.
She's not.
Really, she isn't.
"That's bullshit and you know it."
"No, that's you being delusional."
Beside the walking pair are a few other mercenaries silently judging them for the volume of their voice.
"I will freeze your ass if you don't give me the sandwich."
"I would like to see you try, you dickhead."
And before Sam can pull out his staff, Rafael walks over and grabs the sandwich in Violet's outstretched hand.
"No, you two are dickheads. None of you are getting the damn sandwich until we make it before anyone else and we don't jeopardize the entire operation."
I blink at my older student's sudden outburst directed at his team mate and boyfriend. The latter has the decency to look embarrassed with his action while the girl merely pouts and crosses her arms like she's a child who wasn't given any candy during Halloween. I can only shake my head at the imagery that this girl continues to feed me.
"Rafe is absolutely right," I start, "If you two weren't too busy bickering with each other, you would have noticed the amount of people passing by us." At that, they look down the hallway where multiple beasts and humans clustered in a group are making their presences known by an equally loud conversation.
Violet huffs.
"Rafe is always right."
"Of course, he's right."
"Sam, you always take his side."
"He was basically a Guardian prodigy before he even joined Skyclad. It's obviously no surprise that he would be the more efficient between the three of us."
Sam isn't wrong.
Two years ago, Rafe graduated as a Guardian. He would have been the top of his class if it wasn't for some girl who beat him by a point during an exam. Besides that, he was always the one who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. For whatever reason, he left the Guardians and found himself at Skyclad's front door where he met me. His one track mind and moral compass is one of the reasons I wasn't afraid to give him an offer to work for us.
The rest is history.
"Well, it's obvious you're going to defend him. He's your boyfriend!"
"That has nothing to do with him being much more intelligent than us."
"And as the much more smarter one between all of us, I'm telling you two to knock it off."
"Stay out of this!"
I grunt, uncapping my flask.
Looking over at my visiphone, I take a sip and examine the job details.
"Hn," I cock my head to the side, staring at the price of 80,000 meseta adorning the title headings.
It's unusual for anyone to pay this much for a mission, even if it is a relic site. Relic sites aren't usually worth the paycheck if you know what lies beneath down there. History says that our predecessors created these places to combat their foes hence the advanced machinery littering the area. Unknown and inoperable; it's basically a death trap.
Especially when it's active.
Anyone can get killed.
"That's because you all are pathetic and weak."
My body stiffen unfathomable levels.
It's like being dunked with freezing ice water or body slamming a pool from a high diving point.
"Your kind are weak because they are selfish. Once they put their desires before anything else, it's ultimately their downfall."
I cough, my throat significantly drier more than usual. I grab at my throat feeling the hotness of it.
"Very disappointing, indeed. To learn that the safe haven we created for ourselves are being exploited by the ones we created to be our future."
I shift my eyes towards the children who are marveling at the room we just walked in.
"Look behind you, child."
I should have kept my eyes closed, walked forward and made sure I don't turn around.
But I don't.
I look.
What I see makes my hand fly to my storage transitter to grab my weapon but it's nowhere to be found. Shaking my head to get rid of the image of a glowing blonde man staring at me, I catch the attention of my students who've calmed down.
"Go back to the airship and fetch me my weapon and shield-weave."
They glance at me like my body sprouted two heads.
Rafe opens his mouth to say something but pauses as he watches my shaking hands.
Ever the observant one out of the three of them.
He's the first one who recognized the symptoms of my sickness.
"Fetch me some sandwiches as well."
Violet opens her mouth to protest but Rafe grabs her shoulder and tugs Samuel towards the door. "Come on, let's get him what he needs."
"That's a stupid request." She says it because she knows there's no reason for them to make the trek back to the ship. First of all, they're the ones my boss assigned this mission. And two, there's no reason for me to stay back when I'm here as a representative of the company to confirm their success.
Which is true.
I'm only trying to get them out of here because they see me unravel like this.
I don't like the feeling of this place either.
Eventually, the newman relents and leaves with her two disgruntled best friends.
"You are overexerting yourself with this anxiety attack. There's no reason to fear me."
On autopilot, my hand flies to the pill bottle residing within my pockets but it's not there.
Fuck.
"This isn't exactly normal."
"It should be."
It's a common occurrence.
The voice, that is.
Occasionally, I talk back but I honestly feel insane doing it.
It's been here after the SEED invasion three years ago. Often times, it led me where I needed to go and other times, it led me astray, left feeling broken and confused over my existence.
"My advice has been tremendously helpful to your survival."
The doctor says that my brain activity is normal, that there's no anomaly or anything that seems aloof. Even my psychiatrist was reluctant to classify my sickness as schizophrenia because everything else was too normal.
I never asked for this.
I never asked to be a broken man, beaten down by the failures and mistakes that life loves throwing at me. I never asked to have this voice inside my head feeding me lies and deceit and stripping away my humanity.
"You're not even human, boy."
He's fed me this lie multiple times. Taunting me because he knows that I don't even know who I am.
That's much more worse.
My throat is dry so I grab a hydrator pill from my breast pocket and shove it into my mouth.
It's painful and downright uncomfortable but it's done and I can finally remove the palm that I've planted shakily on the wall beside me. I'm sure that I've left a de- yes, there it is - a hand sized print dented into the wall.
A beeping catches my attention and makes me pull my visiphone out.
"We've got the stuff."
"Enter my room and grab my pills off the shelf." I order, making sure to look anywhere else but behind me.
The brief sound of my medication bottle shaking enters my ears.
"Already done."
Rafe definitely needs a raise after this.
"Well done. Meet you three back here."
"Bye."
"Leave me alone."
"Demanding child."
"Annoying hallucination."
"I am not a hallu-"
I'm startled by a male beast bumping my shoulder as he tries to pass by. I expect him to continue on without apologizing but he pauses and shoots me an apologetic grin. I shoot him a glare and he visibly pales before sauntering off further into the crowd.
And what a crowd it is.
I'd say that there are roughly forty five mercenaries, employers and employees alike. Littering the place are varying types of races; human, newman, beasts and casts. As if I summoned him, a male Cast with brown and black lining decides that striking up a conversation with someone he barely knows is the good way to go.
"This site must have a hot shot sponsor to bring out this many people. There's cash to be made by the looks of this place."
I grunt as if his very existence is boring my entire soul into death.
He doesn't notice as he's casually trying to make small talk.
"You look like you're a mercenary yourself," he observes, his finger tucked underneath his chin.
He's staring at me intently like he knows who I am, which is undoubtedly going to happen if he continues this.
"It's rude to stare," I say coldly.
That's when he backtracks and looks me over, blatantly I might add.
He suddenly points a finger at me.
"Dain Callahan," he says it like he's ripping off a band-aid, "As I live and breath, holy shit. You're actually him! You're the one that's-"
"...Who thinks that you're being a bit too eccentric," I trail off.
Simple to the point. If he knows who I am, he should know that I don't like talking to strangers unless it's for business. And as far as I know, I wasn't sent here to make small talk with someone who's gunning the same objective as my students are.
He falters, his excitement dissipating into nothing as he takes in the sight of my business attire and the briefcase I have grasped firmly in my hand. It's not exactly practical wise to combat around in a tie. It would probably look good but I'm not exactly here to fight anything.
"Oh, you retired."
"And you're annoying."
I half expect him to stay silent by admission or send me at the nearest wall.
He does none of those.
Instead, he chokes on his stupidity. I honestly don't know how it's possible but he does and I only stare at him, daring at him not to say anything else.
Unfortunately, he misses the request and claps, chuckling.
"People always said you were a hard-ass but I merely thought they were only exaggerating. It's great to know that you're still the person that you were, I was concerned you settled down and had kids based on your outfit."
My patience has been lost.
Internally, I give up.
"I'm not."
"That's a relief! I don't want to be the one to break it to my sister that you ended up marrying someone after all!"
I flinch.
He prattles on anyways despite my look of exasperation. "This...place is bound to draw the best. That's why you're here."
He says it as a question. He's trying to figure out what I'm doing here if I'm not doing the mission myself.
"I've assigned my team of angsty teenagers to do this mission instead of sending an official op."
There's a brief moment of him trying to understand the absurdity of the answer before nodding again.
"Oh well, whoever explores the entire site wins that check they put on this place...and if they find anything worthwhile, that's just a bonus."
"Inhelt's always going to be bringing out jobs like this," I say absentmindedly as I observe the mercenaries around me.
"Actually, it's not even them this time. Apparently, they haven't been sending any bounties or missions lately. People say that they've gone bankrupt or that the president died. Something equally drastic as that. " That's what grabs my attention as I turn to him, my brows dipped in confusion.
"That's impossible."
"No, it is. It's like they just dropped out of the map and disappeared under the radar."
Shizuru Shu, the heir to the corporation and only son of Natsume Shu is a friend of mine. We've been friends since we met at a conference once and ever since that, it's been nothing but a sci-fi franchise in his own laboratory.
But now is not the time for a trip down memory lane.
If there's going on with the company or even his dad, that would explains the lack of responses to the messages I've sent him the past few weeks.
"There's something familiar in the air."
I grit my teeth, clenching the briefcase in my hand.
"Now is not the time to act upon your psychopathic tendencies to freak me out, leave me alone."
"No, the energy in this room is familiar. Very familiar."
"I don't give a f-"
"You're shaking," The Cast says.
An animalistic growl leaves my lips.
"You need to sit down and-"
I tune him out because I don't know what I'm feeling. I can feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest and the grasp I have on the briefcase is starting to loosen due to the sweat forming along my palm.
"Calm down, you're projecting too much-"
A voice, screechy and obnoxious enough to interrupt the one in my head, filters out into the air as everyone turns to look. What greets me is the sight of a blonde haired child with the most childish hairstyle ever alongside the childish pink theme going along on based on her outfit. Pink lining on a brown skirt, pink boots, pink shirt and even a pink and white themed headphones.
The girl is standing beside a male Beast who looks like he hasn't slept in a thousand years (or at the very least shaved his beard) who is also emanating nothing but bad posture.
He's either too tired to deal with the girl or he sleeps in a chair rather than a bed.
Probably both.
"This is no place for children. And I'd wager she's no mercenary." The Cast beside me comments as if his opinion matters to me. I can feel him watching me, probably trying to figure out if my my physical freak out was nothing but for show.
I only shake my head and watch her get scolded by the Beast who looks like he's done enough of that in his lifetime.
"Remind me why I pay you."
I blink as I try to comprehend what the man just uttered out.
The girl barely even looks like she can properly hold up a staff and point it at anything.
It's a dick move and I have done it in multiple times in the past, but he proceeds to put her down in her place and leaves her behind to quote 'find something for her do.' His orders are very simple and straight to the point.
I'd say good riddance but with no one left to get rid of my hallucinations, I can't help the frown plastered on my face.
I apologize even to the Cast for my weird behavior if I don't mean it.
He said it's fine even though I know it's not.
"I know this presence. That explains so much."
And before I can even react to what was said, this sharp pain pierces the side of my head. Like someone was trying to claw at my temple or drill it with something equally bad as a De Ragan's claw bone. My knees drop to the floor and I grunt, grabbing the left side of my face as if it was going to get rid of the throbbing.
It doesn't.
What happens next is a blur, literally.
My vision; it feels like the unsteadiness that comes whenever you dive into the water or first take your shot of alcohol.
Accompanied by a migraine.
Briefly, I can hear the Cast yelling at me to get up but I only groan further into myself. He's only making the pain so much worse with his yelling.
"GO!" I shout with everything I can.
And then it's quiet.
Everything's black.
What pulls me out of my reverie is the sound of a banging, like someone's trying to make sure that their neighbor isn't making too much ruckus.
I flinch a little as I feel the cold beneath my fingers, my exposed palms pressed against the floor.
I blink, trying to make my vision clear up.
"I know you can hear me! Open this tin can up!"
I narrow my eyes, realization setting in.
Of course, with my luck, it's going to be her.
With an aggravated scowl on my face, I reach for my phone hoping to see that I can request a-
My eyes hone in on the walls around me, blue and black colors dancing around in my vision.
No, there's no way.
There's no way a relic site would suddenly go active without the presence of SEED.
"They're also designed to activate during our time of need."
I ignore the voice inside my head.
Furiously punching at my visiphone, it's just as expected. The signal is jammed.
Fuck.
There's one thing that continues to linger on my mind, like I'm supposed to remember something important.
Double fuck.
No shield weave, no weapons, not even food.
And as if fate's trying to remind me that I'm the unluckiest bastard in the world, the girl that I was trying so hard to ignore is staring back at me across the hall apparently have given up trying to bang the door open. Not that it would have worked if she went on for a million years.
Judge me for who I am today, but there is no way I am going to converse with a kid. Mind the fact that I've been doing that with three kids since 6 in the morning, I'm not the type that avoids social interactions with trepidation. I'm just too tired for this shit.
My eyes narrow even more as she starts walking towards me.
I take it as my beacon to head over the storage crates whatever mercenary outfit had left them here. I hear her come up behind me and I sigh, unclasping the buckle that held everything together. Carefully taking one of the crates, I'm met with a simple saber that looks like it's - I squint - military grade sabers that they supply the academies with.
I don't even want to imagine how mercenaries got their hands on these.
"Hello!"
I don't react.
"I'm having a crisis over here. Maybe you wanna try not ignoring me? Most people, when they see a girl in trouble they try to find out what's wrong."
I'd gladly tell her what's wrong, what's wrong with her specifically, but I don't care enough to do so.
"Hey! Can you hear me?! Don't tell me I'm trapped with a deaf business man!" I stare at her in a way that's neutral as possible so I'm not showing her anything, no sadness, happiness or fear. I almost want to show annoyance though, because I can definitely hear her screaming at me.
My refusal to say anything starts an awkward silence.
She takes it the wrong way as she gasps, an apologetic expression on her face.
Then she shuts up and raises her hand.
"Don't worry sir! I can get you safe and sound! Well, not really but you and your kids will be fine probably. We might also die but if you can help me, I can help you! Just so as long as you stick by me, we'll make a great team." She says this optimistically but it doesn't mean anything to me.
"Not going to happen," I say in a gruff voice.
She gives me this look like I tried to kill a rare animal. She has a right to look at me like this but I only shrug my shoulders and avoid eye contact.
I purse my lips.
"If you want to live, stay a good few meters away from me and let me handle anything that's down here. The site is active which means there's likely to-"
I pause mid-sentence at the sudden ache at the back of my head and blink at the thermos rolling at my feet.
The blonde girl has her arm up, as if rearing from a punch or throwing something.
Like a thermos.
I go deathly still.
"You did not just throw that at me."
It's not a question or a cry of belief.
I'm giving her a chance to back off, apologize and do what I say so we can get out of here.
She doesn't.
"You deserve it!" God, that shrill voice could do wonders. Wonders like make my ears bleed.
"We're in a relic site and you proceed to act every bit of a child you are. No wonder no one would waste their time with you."
Too far.
Probably hit a nerve.
She walks up to me, standing in my personal space.
The expression on her face is set as pure determination as she faces me, bravely looking at me even without flinching in the least.
"You're insufferable."
"And you're annoying," I taunt back.
It's a few tense seconds as we do nothing but stare back at each other.
That's when I notice one particular detail about her.
Her eyes were red earlier.
Now they're golden.
This scratches a part of my mind when I look over her shoulder at the figure from before standing at the closed entrance. There's this feeling of protectiveness, something I've only experienced with my students that sets into my chest as I regard the girl with a critical eye.
I swallow the bile in my throat and my mouth falls open, one thought running through my mind.
Protect her.
"We can argue later, we need to get out of here," I manage, ignoring that singular thought that shouldn't mean anything.
"Okay," she replies, "The sooner, the better."
Not once do I blink as I watch her close her eyes.
Next thing I know, her eyes are red again as she opens them.
I don't know whether to take that into mind as one of my hallucinations or that this relic site is nothing but a bad dream I can't wake up from.
She turns a little and notices me staring at her.
Her eyebrows are kissing her hairline.
I grunt at her.
Then her eyes shift to the saber in my hand and she huffs, pulling out a staff.
"What's the plan?
Briefly remembering the documents I have in my briefcase, I grunt.
"We finish what we came here for. That and the only way to get out of here is the other exit, which I'm guessing would be at the end of site."
She frowns at me, like she's not happy about the prospect of doing anything dangerous. Why she's hired as a mercenary, I have no clue how but it's not my business.
"Oh, I don't think I've caught your name." She says this absentmindedly as she equips her Shield-weave, something I'm at least desperate about. I'm literally in nothing but a suit and despite it looking cool, it's not going to offer too much. I'm tempted to ask her if she has one more but first) unlikely that she has and two) I have too much pride for that.
I watch her awkwardly thrust her hand out in front of her and I pretend to not know what it is.
I'm not going to give her a handshake.
What I can give her though is my name.
Maybe, she'll leave me alone.
"Dain Callahan."
"Never woulda guessed. Mine's Emilia Perciva-" She pauses mid-sentence and looks me over.
I'm never the type who's conscious about their appearance but if you have miss-change-my-eye-color looking at you over, then it's a different story.
"No way!You're the one that saved the Gurhal system three years ago!"
"That wasn't me." I deadpan. Technically, it would be me and a few other people but saving the world wasn't exclusive only to me.
"The one who can break a De Ragan's jaw with your own hands!"
I blink in response to that. "Now, hold on a second. That's an exaggeration-"
"They said that you can shoot fire balls even without a technocast!"
"Well, that's inexplicable to begin-"
"I met someone who said that you have adult kids and that you're trying to take custody-"
"Hey!" I grab both her arms and shake her furiously, just to get her to stop. I honestly don't know where those rumors come from, where she found them, where she heard of them and what in the hell possessed the makers of those rumors to start spreading it around like some biblical bullshit but I've had enough.
"Let's just go."
She then pouts like she's absolutely disturbed by the fact that she won't be able to get any real stories out of me. I find myself seriously contemplating whether I should leave her to die or kill myself first.
Here's the DoA series that I abandoned so many years ago It might have been around 2012 or 2013 that I let myself go and agreed to stop writing at all. Now here I am writing this and I have no idea what the hell I'm bloody doing. Hoping for a review, lemme know what you think.