I'm finally putting up chapter 4. My thanks to the loyal Silvace Atronach, and I would like to welcome Shinigami to my twisted world! Both of them reviewed, and have advised me of the dangers of a "Marty Stu." I figured that was the definition, but I needed to be sure.

Alright, in the future, it will appear that I am making myself into such. But I reassure you:

Each cocky and self-serving move my character makes will likely have a serious repercussion. Basically, I'm going to act super-cocky and get my bum handed to me on numerous occasions. I need to. The second chapter was mostly an attempt to nurse my own ego. It's a shame, certainly. I hadn't really decided what kind of person I wanted "me" to be. Silvace Atronach has had a very good point. I've finally gotten Nadia into my party in the game, so I'll try for some actual in-character writing. I'll say this: I had planned to continue "my" storyline in chapter 4, make it fairly short, and bring BIS into play in chapter 5. But SA has given me a better idea. Mostly establishing two characters, but that's okay, I guess. The wait between Spring Break and Summer Break has erased most of my previous thoughts.

Alright, I do not own Zone of the Enders. If I did, you'd all be getting a Marty Stu for sure, and he'd a superframe with Zephyrs, Bolozof, Jimmer, Adolf Hitler, Christian Lindskog, Joseph Stalin, Ross Perot, Bill Clinton, Weird Al Yankovich, and myself installed into its hard drive.

That's really weird. Remind me never to do that.

I'm planning to change this story's title, so if it does change, da name's DJ Werrwulf. Look for it....

Or for thine soul shalt Proteus come...

Actually, don't count on that. My allowance will never cover an anti- proton reactor.

Just so you know, Christian Lindskog is a real person. He's the lead singer of my favorite band, Blindside. You'll know what I'm talking about later. He rocks, so you might be able to figure it out.

One question: Does anybody remember the I.D.O. Mindflow System version installed on Testament? It's Version a, I think.

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Chapter 4: Lindskog

"MITCH?" I asked, curious as to how a frame like Proteus would wind up with an A.I. with such a simple name. The cockpit lit up, even more energy flowing through the Metatron it was comprised of. I was honestly stunned. I'd never actually seen an OF start up before, of course. At that moment, it hit me:

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Then explain your purpose on this frame," a computerized, masculine voice suddenly queried. I nearly jumped out of my seat! At least I was already strapped in. I settled back down, but a feeling of uneasiness accompanied my landing. Basically, my motives were being questioned by a piece of software stuck in a big, floating, super-destructive piece of metal, and I wasn't sure how to answer. We were still inside the hangar, and the Proteus was hovering stupidly, as if it was waiting for someone to walk through the security door and suffocate. I snapped out of my trance, and fumbled for words.

"Umm... I guess... I'm going to be using... Proteus... for awhile..." I stuttered. This wasn't going well. I gathered my courage, and prepared to speak, but MITCH was on the ball.

"If you're using Proteus, then I must assume that Mr. Jimmer has met an untimely fate. Am I correct, Mr. Gales?"

"Uh... Yeah..."

"I'm not surprised. Do you think a certain Amante Furlair had something to do with it?"

I knew the answer. It should have been simple. I'd have told him:

"Of course. He didn't know what he was messing with."

But instead, I blurted:

"How should I know?"

"You've figured out how to get into this frame, Mr. Gales. I know you know."

"Uhh... The frame turned itself on..."

"That's a lie. I don't understand what you hope to achieve by lying to me. The default computer has filled me in."

"Well... Yes, Ae... err.. Jimmer was killed as a result of Ms. Furlair's actions. He... was intended to use this frame, right?"

"He was. I don't understand you, Samuel Gales. You obviously don't have an idea of what you're doing, though you are certainly correct about that aspect of your actions."

I snickered, and scratched my head. I was feeling better, knowing that at least MITCH understood that much about me. He made another inquiry.

"Did you have any plans of action when you boarded Proteus?"

"None whatsoever. I used to, but then I got a good smack in the face from reality."

MITCH was not amused.

"I want you to understand this thing you're trying to do, Mr. Gales. This isn't a videogame. Proteus is a powerful frame. It was designed by BAHRAM as a high-power attack machine. It synchronizes itself with its runner's personality to increase effectiveness and cooperation between frame and pilot, allowing it to be all the more deadly."

I hesitated, but then took a look at the photograph in the console. My train of thought was hurled back onto the tracks, and my sudden spell of forgetfulness was vaporized.

"I think I've figured out what I'm doing. Do you have any reservations about BAHRAM?"

"I've been instructed to assist this frame's registered runner, which is you, Mr. Gales."

"In that case, just call me Sam."

"Very well, Sam. I've been accessing some files, and I don't necessarily like what BAHRAM has been doing. I don't have a conscience on level with yours, but I know right from wrong. Their actions do not compute as 'favorable.' They're what humans might call 'posers.'"

I laughed out loud. A computer was calling people 'posers!'

"My gosh! What have I gotten myself into? This thing knows twentieth-century street slang!"

"Do you find that entertaining?"

"Like heck I do!"

"'Like heck?'"

"It's an expression, just like yours. It's... something people do. Hey, I still need to know how you feel about the fact that I intend to fight BAHRAM. They'll never justify slaughtering the innocent. Proteus will be destroying its brother frames."

"Hmm... What did BAHRAM do to you? Answer me that."

At least that was easy to answer, though it hurt like nothing else.

"They took away someone very special to me. I'd at least like them to know that I mind."

"I see... I cannot really feel remorse, sorrow, or shame, as humans do. But I think I understand. Incase you were going to ask, I do not miss Jimmer. He was manipulative of others, and paid for it in the end. I do not wish to be associated with someone who makes enemies without a second thought. You've had time to think, obviously. That's respectable."

"It might have not been time well-spent, but thanks. Ya can recognize expressions of gratitude, right?"

"I'd say. In that case, you're welcome."

"Heh. So, how do I get this baby going?"

"You do realize that this frame is equipped with I.D.O. Mindflow System, correct?"

"It is? I know the technology. Which version?"

"Version a. You're afraid you'll get mind-controlled."

"Yep. That's what was installed in the 'Animus,' right?"

"You're familiar with it?"

"Uh-huh. I've got some good sources of information."

"Indeed. Yes, that is the version. If you know that much, it shouldn't be too difficult for you to pilot the Proteus, now should it?"

"Uh... I figure."

"Why don't you get us out of here?"

"I'll give it a shot..."

I concentrated on moving forward, and perhaps I was overzealous in my effort. The frame rocketed forward with a speed I hadn't felt the likes of in my whole life. My mouth was flapping open like I was some kind of maniac, and I was digging a person-shaped trench into the seat. The hangar doors sensed the Proteus' motion as it roared past, and closed themselves.

"Well, that's one fiasco prevented. Now, how do I make this thing slow down?!"

"Maybe you shouldn't think so much."

"Uhh..."

I turned my thoughts to other things. The frame decelerated, and I took a sigh of relief.

"Note to self: Don't ever do that again!" I half-shouted. "Could ya help me remember that, MITCH?"

"That would not be difficult, Sam," the A.I. reassured calmly. I found it strange how he might actually be trusting me right now. "I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Are you aware that this isn't the only frame of the make 'Proteus'?"

No! I couldn't believe it! There were other OFs just like mine? The possibility didn't occur to me, but the same had been done for Grafficane and the Animus series at certain points. I got myself under control once more, and answered.

"No, I didn't know that. Is that a problem? Do you know where the other Proteus are?"

"Not currently, and this shouldn't complicate things beyond their current state."

"Hey! What's with... Wait a minute! Is that an attempt at humor?"

"Perhaps. It's programmed into my circuitry by a clownish programmer, apparently. I suppose you took it better than Jimmer would have. Anyway, I wish to establish a distinction between my humble abode and the other Proteus."

"That's an old Earth expression."

"I couldn't avoid it. I've checked my systems out of curiosity for any other bits of culture, and I believe that was all."

"Oh well. So, what were you saying?"

MITCH was silent for a moment, and began again.

"I, personally, would feel more comfortable if we decided on a name specifically for this Proteus," he explained.

"More... comfortable?"

"It increases processing speed by .0879 seconds, in fact."

"Uh... sure. Do you have any ideas?"

"Not especially. Any names pre-registered by Lance Jimmer have been registered to be completely unoriginal, uninspired, and egotistical. I would like to hear your ideas."

"Heh. I was actually hoping you'd ask. I suggest 'Lindskog.'"

"After Christian Lindskog, the long-dead singer?"

"You have access to the audio files I loaded?! Makes sense, I suppose. You're a darned fast reader. Anyway, that's the guy. My favorite singer, even if he was biggest a century ago. So, what do you think?"

"I have no comment about his talent, but I do not mind the name 'Lindskog.' It is... different from the designations of other frames in my database. Is that your final decision?"

"Ya sure you're not interesting in anything more inspiring?"

MITCH seemed to think for a moment. We had been drifting aimlessly across the rusty tinge of the Martian desert, and his silence brought my mind to a halt, the frame with it. He finally spoke.

"My data log indicates that Cage Midwell's Testament was destroyed by a UNSF missile bombardment. I do not wish to suffer such fate. I'd have called the name 'Testament' inspiring at one point."

"Huh. Makes sense. 'Lindskog' it is! And as the Lindskog's registered runner, I am not allowing you to go back on that."

"I have set this frame's memory circuits to refer to this Proteus as 'Lindskog.'"

"Alright! It seems I've got a massive super-robot acting on my brainwaves. I think I'm having a good day today. Sooo.... what's next."

"Do you know any of the attacks the Lindskog is capable of?"

"Well, there's this..."

I concentrated on one of the small protrusions on each hand's back, and a fiery red laser swept the plains, turning sand to iron as it passed. Guiding it was fairly simple, but it discharged quickly, which could prove to be a drag. I decided it would be best to continue testing the weapon systems. If the Lindskog couldn't fight, then I wouldn't have much use for the OF.

"And I think this does something..."

I opened one of the hands, extended the arm, and focused on building energy in the palm. I let go after a moment, and a wide energy wave of a shining green swept forward for a good distance.

"That's cool. Now, I need to see if I can use the blades on this thing..."

I willed the left arm to make a slash, and the path of the blade flashed in front of me for a moment. I decided to try several fancy techniques.

"This rocks so hard..."

I cut straight down, twisted upwards, and split the air with a heated spin. It seemed that fate thought I was having too much fun, as MITCH cut right in.

"Sorry to bother you, Sam, but I have detected a large fleet of BAHRAM machines about five miles to the northwest," he informed me. I didn't mind, though. I'd finally get to see some action!

"How many frames?" I asked.

"My radar indicates exactly thirty-one."

"Are they unmanned?"

"All but one. I'm not familiar with it's design, but I recognize the basic shapes of the other two varieties. More data would be available if we got closer."

"Where do they seem to be headed?"

"I'm not sure. Shall we pursue them?"

"Yeah. But how do we catch up?"

"Sam, you instructed me to remind you never to go that fast again."

"Can I withdraw that order in the name of strategy?"

"Go right ahead."

"I know I'll regret this, but..."

I thought about going really fast. Really fast. Before I knew it, I had broken the sound barrier. Lindskog took a lot of the strain, but I wasn't used to this kind of speed. I didn't think such was possible in an OF, or any machine of this type, for that matter. I decided I'd ask MITCH. The frame was starting to rattle, and speaking clearly required some effort.

"H-hey, h-how t-the h-heck a-are w-we g-going s-so f-fast?!"

"We're using a lot more Metatron than we should be. That's all."

"Oh."

"We are approaching the enemy formation. I have determined their target."

"W-which i-is?"

"BIS Headquarters."

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WHOA!

I couldn't start the action yet. Sorry. I'm a conversationalist, you see. It's a curse! I'll be started on one heck of a confrontation ASAP, so don't worry!

I listened to Project 86 while writing this, so my thanks go out to them. I find their smashing hardcore sound to be mentally stimulating. They'll come in handy once I get this thing underway.

And here I've been told to listen to classical music...

Fools...

Oh well.

So, whatcha think? Silvance, Shinigami, you can bet I kept your advice in mind, and it certainly helped.

And, the song "Star" did its part, certainly.

"How... could I... be?
How... could I... be?
How... could I... be?
How... could I... be?"

I don't get it either. Review.