In the afterlife, two people were beginning an intimidating meeting. Jackson and the recruit stood up straight, facing the most powerful reploid soul in Cyberspace. Not just in physical strength, but political and intellectual. This reploid was ruthless, cunning, quick, imperial in his appearance and unbiased in his justice. He was the supreme lord of law in the data-filled afterlife, and had no mercy for the corrupted. He himself had faced his judgment, and learned from it with flying colours. No soul or cyber elf dared challenge him for his role, nor would they want to because of how well he did it.
He was the chief of police. And at this moment, he was was rather peeved.
"What is it this time, Jackson? I have some new souls to interrogate," he snapped.
Jackson was un-intimidated by this show of will. He stepped forward, leaving the recruit precious little space to hide from the callous stare of his superior. The cyber elf plopped a pair of sheets on the chief's table, pointing to the number on the bottom. "See this? These are the teleportation records. This number says 2014. This number says 1122."
"So? What has this got to do with anything?" the chief asked, leaning back.
Jackson grabbed the recruit, who let out a small cry of shock as he was dragged forward by the elf, "Both me and this new recruit can personally account for what I'm about to say next. These number are contradictory to the actual amount of teleportations recorded. Each of them is one too high."
The police chief tensed, no longer relaxing back in his chair, "What? That can't be right..." He read through the numbers, counting how many teleports were recorded in the archives on the sheets. He stopped after the second one, a grim look on his face.
"You're right. Both of these data banks seem to be missing a sequence. This is most uncanny. Do you have any theories on this?"
"I do, actually," Jackson nodded. He continued, "I believe this may be the work of that strange phenomenon, the thing we all refer to as the "Netherworld". It certainly has a similar pattern."
The police chief bolted upright, surprise on his face, "No way! That matter has been settled for nigh on twocenturies. I doubt it would..." The recruit watched, stunned, as the legendary, impenetrable composure of the renowned police chief began to fade.
"It's only a theory, of course. However, it seems the most likely cause. As the commander of the top-secret Netherworld investigation unit, I would like to request more resources be put into attempting to find the location of the missing data. It may be something else causing this oddity, but if it is the Netherworld, I would like to find out why it is acting up."
"Yes... I think it's time we started getting serious about finding that place again." The chief sat down, his hands clasped just underneath his chin to help him concentrate. The recruit was mystified. He was also quite sure that his presence had been forgotten, although whether or not he should be thankful for it was beyond him. Jackson perked up as his boss continued, "After all, if it's starting to act up for no reason, then we need to discover a way to stop it before it sucks in anything, like more souls. But, if it's because it's done the opposite..."
Jackson stiffened. The recruit, unable to fully understand the situation, couldn't handle it any more, "What? What souls? This Netherworld, I've heard about it, but I thought it was just a fairy tale! That it was some stupid little tale about a weird spot in the border between Reality and Cyberspace. It's supposed to have done nothing ever since it popped into existence, except absorb a few fragments of data when it first appeared. Are you saying that actual souls were lost to it?"
Jackson and the police chief were surprised by the outburst. However, they soon calmed down, and the chief even gave a small smirk, "Well, I suppose it's only fair to tell you since you've heard all this. Well, yes, a soul was taken by it, but only one. It also took most of the data concerning the soul. Even the people in Jackson's unit here, despite being the experts on the subject, know very little about the lost spirit and the location itself. Most of them actually think the place took all data on the lost soul, but a bit survived. It's top secret however, so I won't be telling you that."
"So, it's supposed to have absorbed a soul and the data about it. But I don't understand, why would it suck new stuff in? And why, when it's sucking things in, would you say that it might have 'done the opposite'?"
"I know as much as you do about why it's started sucking in data again," admitted the chief, "but when I say it's 'done the opposite', I mean that it may have released the soul it had taken."
"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing? I mean, we can go rescue that soul now! Can't we?" inquired the recruit. The chief sighed, shaking his head.
"You know about souls? All of them have good and evil, some have more of one than the other. The good ones get freedom here in the afterlife, and so do the bad ones once they have changed their ways. But the reploid whose soul was taken... I knew him personally. He was programmed evil, he loved evil, he embodied it. There would be no atonement for him. He would come here and turn our heaven into a hell. We would be the ones needing rescuing. If he's been turned loose by that netherworld, then we need to find out so we can stop it."
The recruit was stunned. An evil soul? The chief saw the look on the recruit's face as he squeezed out a response, "Evil? A completely evil soul? How could that be possible? Could someone really be like that?"
The chief laughed mirthlessly, "Well rookie, they didn't call him the God of Destruction for nothing."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega sniffed. His eyes fluttered open, only to see a warm darkness. He let his fingers creep towards it, feeling along its square edges. With a contented yawn he dug his fingers into it affectionately.
Damn, that was a nice pillow.
Morning rays fell into the hangar through breaks in the curtains, landing warmly on Omega's back. But with the muddy-red pillow in his face, they were unable to reach his eyes. Sprawled flat out on the dirty floor, the God of Destruction soaked up as many rays as he could, thoroughly enjoying the relaxing sensation. He loathed the thought of having to move from his comfortable position. However, seeing as he had nothing that he needed to do that day, he really didn't need to.
And so, for another few hours, he went back to sleep.
Around noon he finally woke up again, scratching his cheek. Omega forced himself to sit up, yawning widely. The sound echoed throughout the hangar, bouncing off the walls and the polished surface of the ship. He shook his head as if to shake out his fatigue, and it seemed to work. He blinked at a window, then frowned at it. Maybe he should have asked Iggy to get some better blinds too, for his current ones were ragged and torn, letting light in despite being fully closed. That being said, it wasn't like he couldn't go do that himself.
Omega stood up, stretching as he did. After a few more exercises he gazed around, pondering what to do. His view ended up back at the pillow, which was slightly larger than Omega's torso. That ever-so-comfortable pillow... Omega ran his fingers along his hair, started to wonder how he'd ever managed to fall asleep without the thing.
Then he stopped himself. He'd gotten along fine without one before, why did he think so highly of them now? It must be because of how luxurious it felt to sleep on them, rather than the cold, hard and gritty ground in the hangar. So very luxurious...
Omega smirked, finally beginning to understand the humans' greed for highly-priced items. It must be similar luxury, to know that you could have something so much better than before. Of course, the humans always overdid it. He would just be glad with what he had. Or maybe a few more? Yes, a few more couldn't hurt. He wasn't being greedy, of course. How could wanting a few more pillows to sleep on be greedy? It was quite practical, in his opinion. And maybe a blanket or two, then some thicker curtains, andmaybe some more things that he couldn't think of at this time (but was sure would be necessary later)...
Omega walked over to the faucet in the back of his hangar, grabbing the bucket from the top of the pile of things Iggy had brought him. He still hadn't gotten around to sorting through his new possessions, including the clothes piled into one of two crates stacked in the middle of his floor. In fact, the first thing he'd done after he'd returned to the hangar was grab the pillow and flop down to sleep.
The first aid kit and comb rattled slightly as the bucket left its perch, but soon settled. Finally at his destination, Omega leaned down and turned on the tap. The water blasted into the bucket, a small amount of spray landing on Omega, making him shiver. That stuff sure was cold.
As soon as the bucket was filled, Omega threw it over his head. He grimaced as the freezing water splashed onto his hair and back. Oh well, it got the job done. He repeated the process several more times, putting his feet or legs under the tap when it wasn't used to fill the bucket up. It wasn't too much longer until he was clean, but it came at a cost. He was considerably colder than when he first woke up. Somuch for all that earlier sunbathing. It wasn't enough that Omega really cared, though. Turning off the tap, the red reploid shook himself roughly, dislodging water off of his lean frame. He walked over to the thin metal crates and looked inside them for some clothes. Then he came to a realization.
He was still wet. And there weren't any towels.
He grunted in frustration, double-checking the contents of the crates. But, unfortunately for him, Iggy had only gotten him what he'd asked for, not more. She certainly got a lot of clothes, Omega admitted, and they were some good ones too, but no towel was unearthed by his searching. Well, that might prove problematic.
In the end, Omega driedoff by sittingt in the sunniest part of his hangar and waiting. He didn't really have anything to do, so he closed his eyes and did nothing. At least, for the first thirty minutes. In a sudden hit of inspiration, Omega decided that he should review his coding.
Now, being able to look over your own code isn't something most reploids are able to do, at least not to the same depth as he could. The God of Destruction vaguely wondered if there was another being alive today that could do it at all. But, being the special case that he was, Omega could delve into his personal programming and see what was there. He didn't even remember if he could do it in the first place, or learned it while he was stuck in that abnormal prison of space and time. However, now that he could, he began to wonder about doing it more often. After all, hadn't he discovered a little while ago that Weil had blocked certain aspects of his coding from working? He knew that he'd be unable to see programs, or even know that they were there, if Weil had decided to hide them away. After all, he'd gone over his programming several times before and seen nothing odd, not that he'd known what to look for. But, still, it was worth it to see what his new EX Skills had done.
So, Omega meditated. He searched through his mind for anything new or out of place. He saw his EX Skills, but noticed very little change with all of his other systems. All his systems, except one.
POT...AL ...STEM D... CTI...ED. EN... ER REA...VATI... COMM...
Omega fell backwards out of surprise. He was damn sure that he'd never seen that data before, which admittedly freaked him out to no end. The only conclusion he could come up with was that Weil had blocked something else as well. It seemed, however, that whatever limiter Weil had put on that thing was breaking down, just like it had for his EX Skills. By the looks of it, it wouldn't be much longer until the limiter was completely down.
It was a challenge Omega couldn't refuse.
For the next hour or so, Omega mentally battered at the code, trying to break down whatever mental barriers were there. He tried multiple system reconfigurations, trying to either un-corrupt the hidden file or remove the alien barrier from his systems. One thing was for sure, as much as Weil knew about programming, his original creator knew more. Or at the very least, they'd been damn good at protecting his code from alterations. Whenever programs weren't supposed to be there, or weren't beneficial in some way or other, they never lasted long. And as it was, the partially broken barrier was now exposed tohis coding checks. It no longer looked like it was something normal. Weil had cleverly disguised it as a regular part of the systems, but now that it was exposed, it would soon be eliminated.
POTE... AL SYSTEM D... CTIVATED. ENTER REAC... VATION COMMAND.
Omega smiled. One hour had passed, and he'd nearly gotten it.
Half an hour later, the mystery was cracked.
POTENTIAL SYSTEM DEACTIVATED. ENTER REACTIVATION COMMAND.
And then Omega was stumped.
He'd gotten this far, but had absolutely no clue what the reactivation command was supposed to be. Omega tried another reconfiguration, but to no avail. Then he began to wonder if it was either a password or simply a command. He tried the first option, as it was no doubt something Weil would do.
"Omega? Weil? God of Destruction? World domination? Ultimate reploid? Abra kedabra? Open sesame?" he guessed, completely unsure of what it might do. Nothing happened. So he went for the second option, hoping for the best.
"Reactivate potential system?"
It worked.
POTENTIAL SYSTEM REACTIVATED. RECONFIGURING SYSTEMS IN ACCORDANCE WITH POTENTIAL SYSTEM. POTENTIAL SYSTEM UPGRADES COMMENCING.
Omega grinned proudly, so excited that he jumped up and began strutting around. He'd done it! He'd beaten Weil at his own game! Omega had personally undone something that Weil had programmed into his systems, flushed that bastard's work out of him! Despite the fact that he had no idea what the potential system was actually for, or what these "upgrades" were, he was ecstatic. No doubt there was more Weil had done to him, but he couldn't help celebrating his small victory. Omega even did a somersault he was so enthused. Soon after though, he calmed down a little. Still grinning smugly, and now fully dry, he threw on an outfit. A brick-red t-shirt and some long black shorts with several pockets. Dang, Iggy had made a good choice of clothes! He trotted out of the hangar, pleased as punch in the bright afternoon, and ready to shop.
Little did he know how profound the potential system was...
x-x-x-x-x
Omega arrived amidst the bustling shoppers of the market without anyone the wiser. A small smirk was on his face as he looked around for somewhere to shop first. In a rare good mood, he simply decided to go wherever and hope for the best. After yesterday's training exercise, he had a good amount to spend however he wished thanks to the liberal fee the raiders gave him. He sort of liked them, not because he fond of them as people (there wasn't a person in existence who had that honor), but because they paid well. As far as he was concerned, they were on his "neutral side". He didn't have a good side, but they weren't people he'd just kill right now and ask questions later (AKA his 'normal' side). Heaven help the few that were on his bad one.
He gazed aimlessly at the different stalls as he passed, quite content to ignore the majority of them and their colourful fabric or woooden ceilings. A few caught his eye, but only for a moment or two. Every once in a while, a musician or small band was sat at a corner, playing cheerful music for those that passed. Their tip containers were often full to bursting as passer-bys applauded and threw loose change at the ever-growing piles of coins.
Omega didn't bother with them, and they didn't seem to even notice him. He simply carried on his merry way, stopping at an upholstery stall not far from one such musical group. Omega spotted some thick, black drapes for windows and promptly bought four of them, one for each window. He was off again without a by-your-leave or thank you to the clerk, who merely shrugged and looked away as he left.
More travelling brought him to another stall filled with household items. Seeing as the clerk was too busy with another customer to talk to him, he picked up a small booklet filled with numerous items and their respective prices. Curious, Omega glanced over its contents. His eyebrow rose at the price of a bed, which was at least double his current budget. Frowning in annoyance, he viewed the prices on the smaller items instead. There were quite a lot of pillow varieties at a much cheaper price than the bed. After the first customer was dealt with, Omega called the owner over and discussed the pillows with him. He ordered four large black ones, as well as several dark red and brown ones. Next on the list were some black blankets and some red towels. He wasn't particulary aiming for a colour scheme, but the advantage of being able to hide whatever blood might end up getting onto them.
After he was done, he gave the address of his hangar for the delivery man. His order placed, he simply left.
Now that his main items were taken care of, Omega realized that he had plenty of time to spare. It was the middle of the afternoon, and he still had a good amount of currency left to spend. Some birds flew in the distance. The God of Destruction felt oddly peaceful, knowing that the people passing by him had no idea who he was, nor did they care. They'd be reminded in time, of course, but it was the first time that Omega actually understood the benefit of being anonymous. No one caused a fuss when you passed, no one cared when you were coming or going. Truly this was freedom…
It was rather unfulfilling.
On the other hand, it was better than being someone's slave. Omega started walking in a random direction, pondering his life again as he went. He had freedom now, but no fame. Was it better than when he had fame, but no freedom? It was. Why was he even thinking about this, anyways? He would have both fame and freedom soon enough. He wasn't called a god for nothing.
His musings had brought him deep into a darker area of the market, overshadowed by a large gray building to the side. The people shopping in this area were tenser than in the lighter area. Their eyes flitted from one corner to the next, watching for anything worrisome. Omega himself couldn't care less. He could easily pick out those hiding in the shadows. He, through his superior sight, could view those dealing in goods that were undoubtedly illegal. Not that he cared; he went on his way as always.
Striding confidently, the hidden ones either avoided him or sneered at him. Either they took him for a fool or realized that he might have a reason for being that confident.
Someone to Omega's side cackled gleefully. He glanced over, wondering mildly who'd made the gesture. It was a grizzled old lady sitting beside a weathered stall of odd goods. Omega stopped, his face expressionless as she began to talk.
"Weel weel, what haad we here, ah? Perhaps a patrun off me fine goods?" she wheedled through a toothless mouth. Her face wrinkled as she grinned maliciously at him, "You seem a fine strong bloke, perhaps ye'd like to see what ah've got to sell, hmm?"
"I'll only buy something if I find it interesting," Omega replied, his face betraying nothing.
"Ohoohoo, dearie, everything ah've got is inneresting…" she smiled, staring intently
Omega trotted forwards, not interested in backing down from her challenge. He glanced over her wares briefly, taking everything in. Dark wooden carvings of assorted sizes poked ominously out from underneath disorganized piles of cryptically patterned cloths and suspicious effigies. Trinkets made of bone or strange metals chinked against each other rhythmically as a breeze stirred the contents of the stall. Evil looking symbols were everywhere. Strange smells wafted from bags of herbs and other bizarre plants as small scrolls rattled in their piles. The breeze died down along with the action of the items.
In the end, all Omega could see was an endless supply of charms and cursed items. It seemed this shop specialized in superstitious goods. Omega snorted derisively, not particularly interested in anything in the store. But, just then, he noticed something. It was mostly buried under another random fabric, but it glinted in a light purple just as he was about to turn around and head off. He walked past the hag, swatting aside the fabric.
And there it was. It was a carved mechaniloid power core, small but cracked, no doubt during its "harvest". Shining dully, it was the only thing in the entire shop that Omega would consider buying. And, probably, he would.
He picked up the small, smooth charm by the ring attached to it by a small black chain.
"How much for this?"
The hag gasped sharply, taking a step back. A moment passed. Then she grinned evilly, and began cackling, "Tcheeheeheehee! Of all the things in me shop, you picked the worst thing of all. Why?"
"'Cause I like it. Why else, is there a problem with that?"
She smiled, Weell… you have no idea what that symbol really means, do you? That… is the symbol of death and suffering, the final greek letter, Omega!"
"Yeah? And I already told you, I like it."
"Heeheehee, you're a strange one. That cursed stone, it were taken from the heart O' a mechaniloid that glitched and wen' nuts. It killed a few people, I heard, and ever since it's brought nothing but misery to those who've held it. It's no wonder, when it broke it took that shape. Well, roughly, ah polished it up a bit after ah got me hands on it…" she explained.
Her gaze fell sinisterly on the item in his hands, then on him. The dark look in her eye suggested that Omega should be very, very afraid of the item, that only one such as her had enough power to avoid its dark secrets.
Well, if she'd expected him to get scared because of that, she was greatly mistaken.
"Good, good! That clinches it! I'll buy it!" he exclaimed jovially.
The hag, having been quite certain that the history of the symbol would dissuade Omega, jumped with surprise. For a moment, her composure was completely gone. Then she recovered herself enough to ask a simple question.
"Ehh? Why?"
"Well," Omega started, "this symbol and I actually have a bit of… history. I know a lot more about it than a lot of people do, and quite frankly, I like it for what it stands for," What I've made it stand for, thought Omega cruelly. "Anyways, now that I know that thing's history, I'm quite convinced that I want it. After all, I now know that it's the real deal for a charm, just not some hokey goodie two-shoes lucky amulet or whatever," he finished.
Speechless, the hag stared. For half a minute, she just stood and contemplated what her customer had said. Then she erupted into a high-pitched, gleeful cackle that echoed along the empty street. It was as if it was full of some curse, scaring even the shadows in the alley away.
"Kyeekeekeekeekee heeheeheeh! Boy, do you know how long it's been since I've laughed like this? Years! Years since anyone I met was either brave or foolish enough to ally themselves with a terror of the black arts. Worse yet, you've taken up the symbol of Omega! Even the black arts cower in front of this little beauty!"
"The black arts have little on me. I'm a mercenary that brings death and suffering. What other symbol would suffice for me?"
"Hee hee, true, true, I see darkness in you. Even lot more than I… how amusing!" Very well, I'll sell you that charm."
Omega smiled. He brought out the money for the charm, but as he was leaving the woman handed him a small, antiquated book.
"Yeh may find that interesting. It's the least ah can do fer you brightening mah day!" she smiled.
"Whatever."
Omega took it then turned around, leaving the stall. He admired his new purchase as he went. Truly, the thing had a feeling of bloodlust about it. Now, usually he wasn't one for believing in superstition, but today he was in a good mood, and had a good feeling about the charm. That hag was a good actor, convincing him to buy it. But he liked it anyways, so there. Omega disappeared into the distance, twirling the item occasionally before finally attaching it to the keychain containing his ship's keys.
The hag watched him leave. Her hand slowly slunk under the counter, bringing out a palm sized sphere of clear crystal. She pointed it towards Omega, stroking it lightly, gazing into the crystal long after he'd gone. Magic is a strange thing. Whether or not it exists, or whether or not you believe in it, has no impact upon it or the world. Few people in the days and age of Legion believed in it, and why would they? They could do anything they wanted with their technology. Fewer still claimed to be able to use it. They were either crackpots or entertainers, in the end. But as a little grin began to form on the hag's insane old face, it seemed as if enough magic did exist to reanimate her aged frame.
Those in the shadows shook their heads at the insane guffawing of the lady they'd come to know so well. One of them swore for the umpteenth time that they'd kill the old bat the next time she did that unnerving laugh. The rest just ignored her. After all, she was nothing but a crackpot.
"Teeheehee! Years ago, they exiled me from the ole' village fer believing in a prophecy written in the back O' that creaky book, Tales of the Sky, weren't it called? Exiled me fer me black magic and fer disturbin' the peace with all me twittering and tweeting about ancient fairy tales. And fer the longest time, I thought they were probably right, that it were no more than a tale and of no consequence to no one. But look at 'im go! Look at 'im go!"
Omega was long gone. But still she stared, stared down the dusty road. There were no tracks, thanks to the wind. The wind that blew harshly, the sandstorm that brewed and scared away the shadows in the alleys, as well as a pair of lost-looking shoppers.
"Ah well, so they'll learn. Ah forgave them long ago, after ah cursed 'em, hee hee! But, ah got to see you afore I died, now didn't I? Haah haah haah! I knew you'd return! Red demon!"
The woman finally let the sandstorm lead her further into the safety of the market, unconcerned with protecting the wares that no one ever touched. It raged, destroying the memory of what had occurred, wiping the slate clean with endless sand. Sands from the never-ending deserts lurking just outside every town and city in the world.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega arrived home to a large, paper-wrapped pile just outside his door. He picked it up, unlocking the hangar door and entering his home, but not before catching a glimpse of a familiar green form leaning casually against a wall in the distance. Omega snorted, ignoring Emerald's watchful presence as he entered his abode. After locking the door behind him, he shredded the wrappings off of the package, revealing it to be the pillows and his other orders from earlier. He threw the pillows and blankets into the corner of the hangar, now unsure of what to do with them. They landed in the alcove between the hangar and the back of his ship, forming pile mildly resembling a nest or den.
He took the other items, as well as the book, and tucked them into the crates. Then he moved the crates to the side of the hangar opposite the ship, giving himself a clear spacein the center. Taking out the drapes, he moved to the windows, removing the rods. He tore off the old covers without another glance, placed the new ones on, and replaced the rods on the windows. Closing them, he was pleasantly surprised at just how much light they cut out. In fact, if he wanted to move around at night, he might just have to figure out where the light switch was… Wait a minute. Why didn't he know that already? Meh. The old drapes were also tossed into the pile that was his sleeping area. If nothing else, they could keep some grit off him as he slept.
His work finished, he went and nestled into the pile behind the ship. It was comfortable, but he decided to go get his other pillows from earlier this morning before letting himself relax fully. It didn't take long. Once finished, he let his body succumb to gravity, flopping on his back onto the pile. Smirking, Omega twisted to get further into the mound, happy with himself over what he'd bought that day. Although it would normally be considered odd to have pillows but no bed, Omega couldn't care less. It was his resting area made his way, after all. He was quite content as he was. With the hangar darkened considerably because of the new blinds, Omega felt a sudden pang of fatigue. He yawned, grabbed a blanket, and settled down to sleep.