Pala’s visit was just aid at clearing the air between us. She thought I had gone rogue, and when she realized I was just trying to gain so contribution points, she left. The good thing is, I got a warm al out of the visit. It would be strange if I walked into the cafeteria, ordering food when everyone expects to be on the frontline.
Another thing I observed was that civilians didn’t know what was going on in the frontlines. This was my conclusion after Pala displayed deep shock at my condition when I stepped out of the portal with bloodied and torn clothes. Regardless, everything went well as expected, and I had a good sleep.
---
— 5AM, The Next Day —
Stepping out of the spatial gate linked to my tent, I could hear soldiers running helter-skelter, preparing for the big day. If all goes well today, we should be able to breach the walls of Lake Charles and take the city.
The gate behind snapped shut as I heard footsteps approaching. Soon after, I heard a clap from outside before a head stuck in—it was Sergeant Deacon, and he looked surprised to see standing.
He probably expected to still be asleep at this ti.
"You ready?" he asked, and I nodded.
"Good. Let’s go."
Saying this, he left, and I followed. We walked around the tents and stopped where the war vehicles were kept. To my surprise, they already had what we needed for today’s mission lined up in front of us.
My eyes dilated at the sight of over thirty hovercrafts, which looked like large-displacent motorcycles used by biker gangs—only without the tires.
The sight of 30 ascendants seated on these bikes almost made blurt out loud, unrestrained laughter, but I managed to control myself. However, what stood behind them were another 20 ascendants dressed in what I could only describe as exo-skeleton armor.
The best way to describe it was skeletal armor worn over the body—it wasn’t bulky. I walked past the hovercrafts, stopping in front of a human dressed in this exo-skeleton suit with genuine interest. The aether circuits flowing through the entire armor were just too eye-catching to ignore, especially since the aether circuit could be seen etched on the skin of the wearer.
The level of aether radiation this would cost the user is unimaginable, but that also ant the benefits would be grand.
Last night, I took my ti to read about Aether Scourge, and what I saw wasn’t pretty. Aether Scourge is currently considered a virus which cannot be cured. Excess exposure to aether causes the victim’s body and organs to crystallize until they die. It is said to be excruciatingly painful—to the point where victims beg for death.
This was the ultimate end of ascendants, and most often choose to die on the battlefield when they notice signs of the virus. Realizing the truth about this virus left with one question:
What is the point of all of this?
Why would anyone want to live a short, glorious life that will most likely end in death?
And then the answer ca—Major Miller and Colonel Adins.
The higher one’s rank becos through constant achievents, the higher the possibility of leaving the battlefield and becoming an officer who dishes out orders. At that point, your chances of suffering from Aether Scourge drop drastically. But to do that, the minimum requirent is becoming a Stage Two Ascendant—and that’s not sothing just anyone can achieve.
It’s crazy, seeing thousands of people running toward a goal that’s only open to a dozen people or so.
I once thought life was difficult for the average Limitless, but right now I can boldly say: no one has it harder than these ascendants.
"Life is just sad," I muttered under my breath.
"Excuse ?" the ascendant blinked in confusion at my words, but I said nothing more and just patted his shoulder.
Thud!
Upon hearing loud footsteps, I looked over my shoulder only to see Major Miller approaching with a wide grin. My eyes dilated at the sight of the pink pajamas this man had on, leaving wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on or sothing.
’Why are the weird ones always at the top?’ I cried in my heart as I turned to et his gaze.
"You seem to like the Combat Walkers... I can get you one if you want," Miller offered.
I shook my head with a polite smile.
"That won’t be necessary. I just find the design interesting..." I responded while maintaining a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
The last thing I wanted was to beco reliant on these machines. When the ti cos, I can prepare them for my personal troops—but I have no intent of using them myself.
"Okay, okay... I hear you." Miller laughed as he got closer.
Only now did I realize he was wearing bunny flip-flops, causing to rub my eyes and double-check, just to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on . The montary distraction stopped from noticing Miller’s hand reaching for my face.
He grabbed by the jaw and moved my face left and right before speaking.
"You still look pale. Are you sure you’re alright?" he asked in a worried tone, as if we were close friends.
Infuriated, I tried to slap his arm away, but he let go and hopped back with an amused look on his face.
"Missed," he snickered, and everyone laughed out loud.
It seed everyone here was accustod to his annoying personality—and sohow, they found these antics amusing.
Major Miller turned around and began walking away while waving.
"I WISH YOU ALL GOOD LUCK IN TODAY’S MISSION. THE FATE OF TEXAS RESTS IN YOUR HANDS!" he yelled carelessly, and another round of laughter followed—causing to look around and wonder what the hell was funny about what he just said.
Or is everyone here just a bot programd to laugh at every silly thing he does?
A firm hand grabbed my shoulder amid the confusion, and I looked over to see Deacon’s hulking figure standing over .
"It’s ti to go," he said, pointing toward two empty hovercrafts in front.
My attention shifted back to Miller’s figure, and it frustrated that I couldn’t do anything about him now.
’I’ll smash your skull in when I get the chance,’ I silently swore.
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