Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here! And oh my god it is time, it is freaking time! This project has been in the making for probably eight to nine months, since March or April of this year. I introduce to you... Syrenet! This is the largest story I will ever write on this entire site, not necessarily in word count or in chapter count, but by the plot and the history behind it all. Syrenet is going to be set in America, circa 2095 or so. I have been counting down the days till I'd get the courage to sit down and write a chapter for this story. I am aiming for a 40+ chapter piece, definitely will be capping 100k on it, and I'm going to try and make this story longer than Raven and the Lion which is sitting at 147k right now. Icarus Chronicle is almost over, and this piece will be the one to overtake it. I am writing the piece in the present tense as I feel it is the tense where my writing is ten times better than that of mine in past. I will be having review replies as well for this piece given its size, and quotes and things that I have said starting the chapter. Enjoy Chapter #1: Foundations of Earth, of Syrenet.

~ If the world wanted you to be charge of it by now, it'd let you. Do not fall into the thought that you're simply entitled for something in this world. You. Earn. It.

The pencil scratches against the paper sound loud and hoarse as they clash with the shouts from a myriad of people outside. Ike Forgenson glances up from the notebook warily, his left hand placed precariously on the blunt end of his revolver currently stuck in his back pocket of his suit. His cobalt eyes flash out a glance of irritation and confusion. He snaps his head to the right, and without saying a word, a shadow sneaks along the walls and out into the sunlight. Ike goes back to the notebook, scoffing. Sometimes people could be so inconsiderate.

April 30th, 2095

Journal Entry #230

President Corrin requests that the Syrenet squadron remain here in Oklahoma City for another week until she can find out exactly what is going on with the communications system back in D.C. I think it is absolute... crap, that I have to remain here. I had to trade my Syrenet suit out for a simple one, tie and all. I feel absolutely lonely in it, not having Lyn telling me what to do in my head. Whatever. The people do not want the project in their streets, but instead of politely asking us to go away, they bring guns and knives and bitter resentment. It really makes us feel welcome. Absolutely not.

The soldier reenters the room, looking unhappy. Ike notices this and sits up, frowning. "What is it?"

"I think you should come and see this," the soldier bites down on his tongue. "Marth needs you out there. Gun and all."

Ike closes the notebook and stands up, complacent. "Perfect. These people can't keep their traps shut for one minute. Causing all of this ruckus..." he trails off, shaking his head, pushing open the door and walking out into the hot Oklahoma City air. As sunlight hits his eyes, so does the loud and ever growing screams of enraged denizens of the city. The commander runs a hand through his messy navy hair, sighing.

Amassed in front of city hall, in the town square, perhaps - Ike is unable to tell with the way people behave nowadays - is an angry mob of four hundred or so, every single person waving either a flag, weapon, or somesuch other possession. Ike can hear their chants in one unanimous cry. "Leave our city! Leave our city!"

"Oh... President Corrin is not going to be happy about this..."

Standing a few feet away, examining the crowd, is another commander of Syrenet, Marth Lowell. In the sun, his aquamarine hair, like Ike's draws all the attention to him, towering over the mass of enraged citizens, a sniper rifle hooked under the crook of his arm. Marth looks over, seeing that Ike has been withdrawn from his indoor retreat of writing and solitude.

"I was wondering if you had were dozing off with a nap!" Marth yells at him over the shouting.

"How long have they been out here protesting?"

"Not long. Just an hour or so. Haven't had any casualties, but I don't want to say that'll be the case forever. We're trying to get in touch with the White House on what to do, but nothing's getting through. I think the jamming of our communications system is happening once again... Corrin has instructed us to not open fire on them. None of the soldiers here have bullets in their guns, her orders."

"We're standing for that?" Ike retorts.

"I mean-"

"No one here is armed in case they are?" Ike gestures wildly at the crowd amassing.

"Just the two immediate soldiers on our left and right don't have magazines. Everyone else is armed, I promise you. Everything else is locked and loaded," Marth reassures.

"It isn't that reassuring."

"Trust me. Corrin-"

"I know what Madam Corrin said, Marth!" Ike growls. "But, dammit, man... this is a protest that could eventually turn into a riot."

Marth opens his mouth wide in objection, but decides to not pursue that avenue. The more buff of the two rolls his eyes, looking over the crowd some more.

Ike mulls over the details of the Oklahoma project in his head. Syrenet, in all simplistic terms, is a scientific breakthrough created by Washington D.C where they could form soldiers into super machines, akin to a Captain America or known otherwise. The people would be dressed in metallic suits of armor, hybrid technologies that each had something called an AI Unit in the back of their head, a holographic person who would be their God, whispering, speaking, demanding... something quite freaky actually if Ike puts his mind to it. Backed by the entire national U.S government, the implementation of Syrenet went into effect, the headquarters being in D.C. Almost immediately, it became knowledgeable of exactly what power this project contained, and soon a branch is added, like the FBI or CIA, though minimalistic at first.

However, with the creation of Syrenet, comes along a resistance group. Rebels and inhabitants of America who feel that the creation of this 'project' would be the cause of dictatorship, totalitarian rule. In the genuine mission statement of Syrenet, this is not the case, even as the president, Corrin Etch, swears it on the Holy Book. Syrenet had been simply created to act as an enhancement towards the military of the United States government, and there were those in the streets who expanded it to something more.

Marth senses some trouble down to his left, and flicks his wrist at a few operatives behind him. Ike finds there to be no reason for this, if no one is armed as the commander wants to say. "I don't know what they're trying to accomplish by simply yelling at us. You can't expect the entire government to shut down the Syrenet project because of a few rebels..."

"I don't think that's what they're after..." Ike mutters, and something down in the mass catches his eye. Perhaps a few hundred yards away is a girl, maybe no older than twenty or so, chanting, something in her hand. On further inspection, Ike can see that the object appears to be a strip of paper, but the writing on it being illegible at such a distance. There's a fire in the girl's voice, her blonde fishtail braids snapping in the wind, and Ike's eyes narrow. He points over at her. "Who's that? She is seeming to channel all of this anger and direct it."

His comrade follows his gaze, eyebrows raising. "That's Sheik Braring," Marth says. "She's come down here every single day for the past week to protest our stay. She hasn't done much more than scream insults at us. Doesn't seem to be armed."

In a matter of moments, the intensity of the 'riot', if Ike is even compelled to call it such, shifted. It all shifted. A rioter began to break out from the crowd, something in his hand. Ike's eyes widen, realizing that it is the thing in Sheik's hands, which wasn't a piece of paper at all, but a garrote. A soldier steps up bravely to the man, gun cocked and loaded.

"Get back, sir!" he orders.

"You will not control us with that cyber technology," the man snaps back, tightening his wrists. "You will not!"

"I said to get back!" the soldier repeats, evidently loading the gun.

The man lunges forward perhaps out of sheer insanity, pressing the barrel of the gun to his forehead. That's when Ike understands what they're dealing with. Intelligence. And that's the guy who has no bullets in his clip. This is going to be bad, oh so bad. The man clicks the trigger of the gun for the soldier, and when there's no spraying of copper everywhere, he screams out to the crowd. "No bullets! There's no bullets!"

All living hell breaks loose.

The soldier tries to get back, but the man has tied the garrote around his neck, strangling the poor sap for all its worth. Ike curses, grabbing Marth by the wrist as he pulls them back behind a column. He retrieves his revolver, looking around the column. For a singular moment, the crowd lies in a strange purgatory of confusion, before Sheik in the front screams out another order, and the entire mass of four hundred charges like ants.

"Oh, you've got be kidding me!" Marth swears. Ike spins from behind the column, aiming down the barrel of his gun, firing. A bullet lodges itself in the throat of a poor fellow who went running for the front door of the citadel. Marth grips his sniper rifle, nodding at Ike before running into the building, Ike taking shots at given opportunities. Masses of people are running up the steps, some carrying Molotov cocktails, a few having bricks, one burning the American flag before throwing it at the roof of city hall.

Above, gunmen are firing into the crowd, a pelting rain of silver and halcyon darts imbedding nerve deep, before exploding, blood and bone matter flaying everywhere. Ike curses, running into the citadel. He barely has time to close the door and back away from it before Sheik steals a guard's RPG and fires it. Fire lacerates the bluenette's back as he goes flying into the room. He slams into a table, copper filling his mouth.

Ike shakes his head, groaning. Throwing a glance back at the smoky entrance, insurgents flood in, stabbing and shooting. Looks like he isn't going to be staying here. He knew this wasn't going to ever work out. He takes to the stairs, shouting into the cuff of his suit. "Immediate backup! I repeat, immediate backup! Hostiles have broken loose, we're under attack!" He gains a second to fire behind him, an explosion following the release of his shot.

Up to the roof he goes, where Marth is located, crouched beneath a beam, taking lucky shots at every chance he gets. Though the ensuing chaos and melee had only broken out not even two minutes ago, the cobblestone ground is soaked a putrid crimson, the smell of burnt flesh and the loud, dying screams of men and women ringing out in a vicious echo.

"How things like this can even happen is beyond," Marth grits, ducking under a bullet, "Is beyond me!"

"We can't stay here. We're going to be a sitting duck in water..." Ike reloads his magazine.

"Now is not the time for your silly little sayings, Ike. Any luck with the radio?"

"No one has responded back... so maybe not."

The man's eyes follow a projectile as it is thrown into the air, landing by Marth's elbow. A noticeable ticking sound is emerging from the device, a light following it by bleeping red. Ike pulls at his comrade's back, nearly wrenching him from his spot as he throws him over his shoulder. "Watch out!" Ike screams, racing from the roof as the explosive rips the roof of the building apart.

Ike loses his hold on Marth, the wave of energy causing him to fly into the air, slamming him on the following roof of the subsequent apartment. His skull crashes into concrete, and the commander's entire body goes completely numb. Blood is starting to pool around his entire body, and the last thing he sees before black ants burrow themselves into his eyes is Marth's weak and straggled body landing on its feet, before the commander flops to the roof face first.

May 1st, 2095

Journal Entry #231

I'm lucky to even be alive. I'm lucky to have walked away with my non-writing hand being the only thing broken, and a concussion that the doctors immediately treated by getting me back in my Syrenet suit. Marth is alive too. I- I don't know what I would've done had be died on my watch. Everything happened so quickly, I am still unable and unsure of how to process it. From what I've been informed of, the group that amassed in front of the Oklahoma city building were all insurgents belonging to the Midwest rebel group nicknamed the Dust Devils of Syrenet by command. The girl I highlighted from the crowd, Sheik Barring or whatever her name is, is the leader of that entire force, roughly five thousand strong. I want to go and drop a bomb. President Corrin says that is not allowed, and I'm going to make sure that the next time I see her, she knows how stupid it is to reject that idea.

Including Marth and myself, the only survivors from Oklahoma City were us, three other soldiers from Marth's Syrenet unit, and three human relation officers who weren't even in the town square at the time of the attack. That's what the news is calling it, an attack on Oklahoma City's town hall, and since I've heard it used about twenty million times from everyone since I got in this helicopter, I might as well be using it too.

President Corrin is not happy, and I have reasonable understanding to agree with her. Vice President Robin is being much more lenient on us. She's never been in a day of battle and is already coddling us. But, back to Corrin, she's being as vicious to us as she always is. I wish... actually, I don't want to wish for anything from our president. She'll never change, but it still means that I am not happy at her nor her decision making. Despite the fact that Syrenet thought the state of Oklahoma was a safe zone with mild resistance, it is no excuse to under staff us. Forty soldiers and government officials would not be enough to quash two hundred people, let alone double that with the manpower they had.

Which brings me to my next concern as I write this. Where would a rebel group get RPG's and grenades with such power? In my ranting to madam Corrin, I'll list that one as well. The helicopter is going back to Washington D.C where Marth and I will be given a few days recovery, before Corrin has to send Marth up to Detroit for an entirely other cause that is in the dark to me now.

I don't know where the mission went wrong. It was simple. Go into Oklahoma City and create a Syrenet substation, simply a factory to help make more suits, yet the people resisted, resisting for maybe no other cause than that they could. She's abandoning the project for trying to establish a branch out in the Midwest. Too many insurgents, and with the news broadcasting such a successful attack, I can see why.

I also don't know how Syrenet itself is going to take this. Shulk demanded that he be out in the front lines with Marth and I, but Corrin refused. For having as many units as we do, you would've thought that she could've given us a few more. Perhaps if there we more reinforcements, there'd be more to tell the tale. I'm glad I'm not into politics, only the firing of guns and getting the job done.

I love the Syrenet cause, but not necessarily the Syrenet work. Looking back at how the whole operation went down, there is much that needs to be discussed.

The Oklahoma Syrenet project is a failure.

Looks like we need to regroup.

~ Ike Forgenson, Commander of Syrenet Unit Charlie, Unit #C

Alright! There we are folks, Chapter #1: Foundations of Earth, of Syrenet. Yes, while this may seem entirely confusing to you, it's done for a specific reason. I've dropped you, just like in Icarus Chronicle, straight into the middle of everything and we'll build from there. And sadly for everyone who may be thinking this, Marth and Ike are not the main characters of this piece, they're moreso supporting the other cast that we'll soon come to know about. Bottom line, Syrenet is an intelligence organization geared as a branch of the military for creating technological advancements and such for the country, but clearly not everyone is on board. The chapters from here on out will be longer, no chapter will be shorter than 3k by any stretch of means. Sometimes there'll be journal entries like the ones Ike spends his time creating, or AI logs which you'll get to see later on as we further into this piece. If you are hyped and ready for Syrenet, please make sure to follow or favorite this story so you do not miss an update. I'll be updating once a week, though the day may vary depending on schedule. Balancing three WIP's is quite the momentous thing to do, and I'll try my darn hardest to stay on track. Thank you so much for reading and checking in, and I hope that I will see you again for Chapter #2: Glass Ceilings. Have an amazing day! Love you all! Bye!

~ Paradigm