Objective: Insert Basic Combat Chip

Antasma was startled at the new instruction, basic combat chip? What? His eyes followed the yellow indicator and he was being directed to some sort of metal box with a rectangular thin tiny slit opening. He squinted at it, how is that thing going to help him insert the "Basic Combat Chip", regardless, he approached it.

He stopped in front of it and bent down, tilting his head and examining it. Judging by the way the output of the box is designed, it's some sort of dispenser. Maybe the chip is going to be spit out from the box?

His hypothesis is proven correct as wiring sounds buzzed within the box, then after a couple of seconds, a tiny thin white rectangle popped out from the opening with a flashing green light signaling its completion.

Antasma gingerly took the chip and held it up to his eye level, his supposed to insert this thing? Into where? Into his a–? He decided to not finish that thought. So he squinted at the thing, he sniffed it, he shaked it, and he even licked it, but nothing was clicking. What is he supposed to do with this?

After racking his brain for a while, he suddenly felt a shift in his neck, like something had opened itself within his jugular vein. He froze, did…did a vital part of his body just…opened up…like that? He brought his hand up to the area and ran his finger across the gap, No blood was spewing out from his neck, and his…objective was still there, so that's telling him something…hold on…

He lifted the chip up to his neck, towards the opening, and pushed it in.

A light buzz rumbled through the base of his neck as the system processed the chip, after a short while. A notification popped up on the top right side of his view that tells him the basic combat chip has been installed.

As he watched the objective being crossed off, he felt immensely weirded out by this, judging by the name of the chip, he had just installed a skill into his brain, something that needed to be taught and trained by experienced martial artists who had spent years perfecting their craft and reaching to absolute mastery of their field of work.

This made Antasma apprehensive, what kind of place is this? If something as advanced as martial arts can just be copied onto his brain and be considered as "Basic Combat", then what else can these technologies do? Could he…possibly be living in the future? He had heard of the concept during his imprisonment in the Dreamworld and down in the Underwhere. In which the future would have flying cars, and incredible technology that will enhance life in the world and bring an era of renaissance.

Before, he completely dismissed the idea, how could such a thing exist? Pi'illos already used magic to do most of the work, which is why he delved himself into technology as a rebellion, creating his own battling machine that he later used against the Mario Bros. Even then, he doesn't believe that technology could amount to that level of advancement. But it seems that is the case now considering his body is now partially merged with said technology.

He took a deep breath and released it.

If this is truly the future then he needs to adapt, he needs to learn, and he needs to explore, he needs to know about everything in this new world…and that starts by leaving the armory.

He floated towards the door and opened it…

And he was immediately greeted by a group of armored Beanbean soldiers, all completely decked out and armed to the teeth.

Literally.

All of them have cybernetics that are similar to his but look a lot more basic and simple, however they all wield a metal-bat looking thing that's cackling with electricity, waving it threateningly towards him.

Antasma backed up a little bit, he wasn't expecting hostile company this soon. But considering that this is pretty much the future, messages are probably no longer delivered on foot by Toads and Mail Koopas, and not to mention that surveillance is most likely more advanced, perhaps that's why they knew about his location so quickly.

The Beanish soldiers advanced while he backs away, the one leading the group with a blue line marked on its helmet made a demand.

"Come with us peacefully or we'll resort to violence."

…Ok that was straight-forward…usually Beanish people have at least some form of lax in their speech, but it seems they lost that kind of sway as there is no humor within their eyes, not even a twinkle of pride for almost completing their mission.

Then a new objective popped up on his HUD:

— – Battle Mode Initiated – —

Objective: Defeat the Soldiers

Huh…well he supposed the system is indeed well out-fitted for him, Antasma raised his fists instinctively and took the stance of a martial artist, something he never learned prior to the installment of that chip. He felt a mask forming on his lower face, protecting his jaw and chin from being striked.

The soldiers took a combative stance that is well-suited for their wielded weapon, the Beanish with the marked helmet sighed and muttered something about expected resistance.

The captain, or what he assumes is the captain, of the group strikes at him with incredible speed, the cybertech must have enhanced their bodies to be able to fight more efficiently.

Antasma raised his arms to defend, he didn't know what he should do, which technique should he use to fight, he wasn't sure how the chip was going to help him through something that he never learned, but just before the Beanish strike, he felt a sudden buzz in his head and a purple pulse went through the room, coating everything in a purple hue and making things move in slow motion.

He paused, what? What just happened? Everything felt more sharper now, he could see the captain's movements easily, and his moving more slower than ever. The group that was behind him now looks motionless, He lowered his arms and stared at this sudden change. He was still in the middle of combat but now it looks like a slow motion short film, certain body parts of the captain are now highlighted to indicate to him where he should strike.

So he did, he felt so airy and swift, with a single jab, he countered the captain's attack by landing a hit onto his head.

Even though it didn't feel like it, the force of the punch was enough to completely explode the Beanish's head and bring him out of the slow motion state on impact. He stared at the brutality of his handiwork, he could see the green blood and brain matter of the Beanish splattered everywhere, including himself and across his mask. Since when does he possess such strength? His vision was partially obscure with the green blood, but with a fast auto wipe that seemed to vaporize the blood. He could fully see that the group had the same thoughts.

Perhaps they weren't expecting him to be so brutal considering his relatively tame demeanor compared to his predecessors, or maybe it's because of his cybernetic gear, he doesn't feel stronger. He isn't bigger, but he does feel heavier, perhaps this is why he has so much power. The metal enhancements add more weight to his punches.

He glanced back at the group and grinned, he's not going back there, he's not going to be seen as an annoyance, he's not going to be Dreambert's little weapon.

He is Antasma, the King of Nightmares.

And he's going to show them what he is capable of.

He advanced towards the group, he extended his claws, the Beanish soldiers backed away. All of them raised their weapons as a retreating threat to him but he simply scoffed at their intimidation attempts.

They will pay for disturbing his deathly peace and show them the consequences of playing God.

He activated the slow mode ability, it engulfed everything within the room with a purple hue. And with nothing but murder in his mind, he strikes like a cobra.

When he was done, there were only shattered weapons, green blood, and organ matter that decorated the room. He himself was covered with blood as he relinquished in his frenzied massacre. How long was it since he was allowed to be evil again, to be expressive, to be so…free?

He breathed heavily, he should keep moving, no doubt that during his killing spree the soldiers called for backup before they all fell to his claws.

He went out of the armory and glanced between the hallways, deciding between going back the way he came to see where else it would lead him, or continuing ahead to explore this facility and hopefully find an exit.

But before he could decide, a new objective popped up in his view:

Objective: Find Subject - LE11a and Extract the Module Chip

He stared at the objective once again, who is LE11a? The acronyms that are given to the resurrected villains doesn't refer to anything at all but gibberish, even his own sounds completely nonsensical, it sounds like someone just vomited all over a keyboard and smashed out a name that fits within the five lettering space, or something that is completely AI generated and the researchers just went with it, so the only thing for him to do is just to explore and find out.

….Wait….what is a keyboard…and AI?

But before he could dwell on knowing something despite never even having heard of it before, he could hear marching sounds coming from the way he was planning to go back.

He could just face the group and murder them all again, however they are probably outfitted with new weapons that would counter his ability and neutralize him. So he hurried forward, hoping to lose the new wave of soldiers from his scent.

"Sir! Subject - TA33y has neutralized our containment squad, a back-up is in pursuit, should we send in more reinforcements?"

A Beanbean commander saluted towards Dreambert, who had been observing Antasma's movements from the cameras.

"Yes, but don't cross him, he will simply tear through them like the original one that we sent, instead redirect Subject - LE11a towards him, it will be a perfect first test run on his capabilities."

The Beanish commander was confused by the order.

"And why should we do that? Our objective is to capture and contain them all, not to pitch them against each other in a deathmatch!"

Dreambert stood up from his seat and faced the commander, his real eye and his cybernetic one both stared menacingly towards the commanding Beanish.

"Subject - LE11a, Subject - DI22y, and Subject - KB00o are all complete failures, none of them can handle the mental toll of the combative cybernetics, Antas—"

He gritted his teeth before correcting himself, deep down, the ancient Pi'illo still misses his best friend, he constantly curses his father for forcing him to treat Antasma horribly because of who he is, resulting in him consuming nightmares as a way to cope with the abuse and loss.

"—Subject - TA33y is the only one that is unaffected by the neuro-software. In fact, he could even install other various combative chips with little to no issues."

Dreambert approached the Beanish general with a slight glare in his eyes,

"And please, let's face it, none of them can contribute to the war effort, they have virtually no value in the military force as they have all completely lost their minds. They cannot cooperate, they cannot understand. Anta—Subject - TA33y only attacked the containment squad out of his own desire to be free, he already knew what he was and he hated it. I know him. He is not insane, he is angry at what he is."

Dreambert turned away from the general and return back to his seat,

"So we must use that anger to our advantage, it will give him motivation to fight."

Dreambert glanced back at the general.

"And the villains that we brought back are the perfect test subjects for his destructive power, and hey…he gets rewarded too if he kills them. The combat chips we sought are compatible with his system, we'll see how well he can adapt. Afterall…"

Dreambert grinned.

"I can always take back control."

Antasma has been wandering around for ages, this facility is massive, how did they build all these things in space? Not to mention he has no idea where to go, his HUD is displaying his objective as usual, but it doesn't show any directional pointer like before, he doesn't hear any sounds that indicate approaching soldiers, so he's mostly just been...fooling around.

He fiddled with his cybernetics constantly, he wants to see what other functions his metal armor has other than just protecting him, after all. He is in the future and he's pretty sure that the researchers have installed more things in the armor than just a fancy retractable face mask and lights.

He pressed on the metal plates in random places to see if there's any hidden buttons. He tried to open the casing on his arms but failed miserably. He repeatedly punches the walls to test his limits, which disturbed him because he doesn't feel anything. Normally smashing your fist into metal and concrete walls at full force usually results in a broken hand and agonizing pain, but he feels nothing. His hands were fine and it was the wall that was destroyed, not him.

he doesn't understand, what did they do to him? His limited knowledge of this era prevents him from having any sort of understanding of his situation, or himself.

Antasma began to hyperventilate, this alienated place, his awareness of him being completely out of touch with time and the unfamiliarity to his own body was starting to get to him. He doesn't understand, what happened to him? Why is he alive again? Why is he used as a weapon? Why is he chosen to be used as a weapon? Why is he even here? Why is he following these strange objectives? Why can't he be left alone? Why does he know things that he never heard of? Why? Why? Why? WHY?

He grabbed his head and began to shake, he wanted to destroy something, he wanted to squeeze his brains out so he doesn't have to think, he wanted to tear down this place and rip every living things to shreds so he could feel something , the only thing his familiar with is killing, he has done it before and he knows what it's like. It's one of the reasons why he's been condemned into the Underwhere, it's the only method that he could do to feel something, whether during the action or the consequences after it.

But there is nothing to kill right now, he should've just confronted the approaching soldiers earlier if he knew he was going to end up like this now, however the soldiers seemed to have vanished into thin air and he doesn't have a single idea on what to do.

He leaned against the wall and sat down, he had no idea what was happening, he was alone again, he didn't want to be alone, he wanted friends, he wanted someone to talk to, he wanted a hug, he wanted comfort, he wanted to…cry…

And cry he did, as that's the only thing that he can do.

He sobbed, he sobbed like a little child, he tried to wipe away his tears only to find none. His ability to cry, his comfortable capability to produce tears, his only way of coping in a stressful situation….

Was Gone.

His eyes are just a pair of cameras that mimic organic vision, he can't cry.

And when that realization dawned on him, he couldn't take it anymore.

He Snapped.

He screamed, he screeched, he yelled as loud as he could, he shriek as much and as painful as his throat can handle.

He couldn't believe what they've taken away from him, they took away his freedom, they took away his body, and they even took away his only form of expression.

He thought he was blessed to be alive again, to have a second chance at doing what he wanted, to be able to fly in the tropical warm air that he always enjoyed.

But now he realized, it's just another layer of hell, his being used like a puppet to fight in another man's war once again. He was always despised by the Pi'illos from the start, Dreambert was the only person that was nice to him and had been his one and only true friend. Until he began to treat him like trash too, calling him names and making fun of him, saying that he's just dragging him down from his potential and that no one would want to be friends with a batty freak.

He doesn't know why people hate him, he did nothing wrong, he always kept to himself and was clean and polite. He was constantly getting beat up for it, and passersby just spit on his bruised body and laughed at his misery. It was the reason why he consumed nightmares, he knew how dangerous they were and the corrupting effect that it had on its consumer. But at that moment, he doesn't care, he's going to be killed by these people anyways so he might as well drag them all down to hell.

Eventually, he stopped. His throat grew rough and coarse from the outburst and he couldn't bring himself to produce another sound, the reality had been too painful for him to handle and he doesn't know why he's been condemned into this torture for all his life, he doesn't understand, he couldn't understand, he never understands.

So the nightmare slowly curled into himself and quietly sobbed to sleep, hoping that when he awakes. Everything was just a bad dream and he's still happily smoking with his deceased buddies down in heaven.