The Year 2321. Earth is a graveyard of dreams.
Chaos reigns. The poor neighborhoods have exploded in the last century, and even once-peaceful areas have descended into riots and uprisings. AI has taken countless jobs, and robots have left just as many on the streets. Yet, a few professions have endured: the police, the navy, the military—and one more, a path I chose when I became an orphan, defying my family's "wants."
"No, you must join the army." "No, you must join the navy." "No, you must join the police so they'll fear you, and marry the daughter of so-and-so, so they'll pay you not to mess with whatever they have."
My own desires were ignored, so I turned to painting. But in this era, art offered no money. As I wandered the backstreets, I saw a poster for the fourth profession that never went hungry, never feared, and lived freely, but gave no quarter.
"The Mercenary," the poster read, its paper peeling and soaked with street filth. It advertised a grand, powerful body, a design with almost no equal.
Passers-by spat next to me, giving me strange looks. I looked at them with bewilderment. A family stood nearby; their daughter wanted to talk to me, but her parents saw me as the "black sheep."
So I threw away my paintbrushes and spray cans and ran toward the offices of Rehawark. It had to be better than the streets, or so I thought.
When I arrived, the people in the office were all strangely happy. "Something doesn't add up," I thought as I reached the desk.
"Hello," I said without a smile. "I've come to join your group."
The man at the desk looked me over. "Your name, young man?"
I shrugged. "I don't have one, sir. I'm an orphan. You can give me one. After all, they say we're all going to be a family."
A smirk appeared on his face. "We'll let the office arrange your new identity." He motioned for me to stand against the wall for a photo.
A camera scanned my entire body, analyzing me and generating my new path. The man looked at the readouts with surprise. "Very good. The Nexus has issued your new identity: 'SeinDyr HildiManiar.' How does that sound?"
"It's fine," I said, shrugging. "It's just an identity. What's the point?"
He waved me closer and showed me a base to place my finger on. As I did, something pricked me and drew blood. Next to the machine, a small niche opened, producing a neck ID.
He motioned me toward the next office to pick up my uniform. We were shown a corridor where a team was taking all our old belongings, stripping and burning them so we would have no connection to our past. We passed through a corridor that washed our bodies from head to toe, then put on our uniforms and continued into a large chamber with a sealed door and windows.
There must have been over 200 of us, though a few stood out. Some seemed to understand what was happening; others were oblivious. Suddenly, a giant entered the chamber, his head almost touching the ceiling. "Are you ready for your journey into the unknown?" he boomed, laughing. He lowered his head and added, "If you're not, we don't care. You will become what you must. Sweet dreams." He closed the door, and chaos began.
A gas filled the room, making everyone fall asleep. The chamber began to move in an unknown direction. I only lasted that long.
When we finally reached our destination, we were in a large battle arena. We were woken. We were no longer human—we were monsters. People were watching us from the stands, chanting, but my head was too heavy to understand.
Then, a striking officer appeared. He looked at us and then at the stands, raising a hand to silence them.
My anxiety and worry would not go away. Then he began to speak, and my gaze turned towards him.
"Gentlemen! Listen to me carefully. You took the first step to come here; we accept no complaints. A wise man accepts pain, endures it, and doesn't worsen it with complaints. Fight it! Remember, no matter how angry you are, silence is the best answer. We cannot reach the desired level without pain. All of you must get out of your comfort zone, even that 'poor' comfort, because comfort is the worst addiction!
"At the end of the day, you're mortal. Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now, take what's left and live it right!"
Then, equipment began to appear from the floor: guns, swords, launchers, exoskeletons, and all kinds of gear. I looked at the equipment, then at the officer.
He leaned forward, shouting. "The greatest victory is to conquer yourself! Think about what you want, what you desire, and where you want to go! Why do you want to fight? Show us what you hide inside you."
I looked at my stand. A large launcher, a firearm, and a sword had appeared.
"To get a life where no one will hold me down," I said. "I will use fair and unfair means to get it. Everyone is an obstacle on this journey."
I looked toward the officer with trembling legs, not knowing what would follow.
"I will climb to the highest ranks. I will become what they fear: power, fame, money, and the blood of those who get in my way." I ran toward the table.
He sat back down. "So we have a little god of war?" he shouted. "If he makes it, he'll be very promising."
As I geared up, drums started beating, and war sirens pierced our ears. A chant from the stands roused us. Thoughts passed through my mind like fire.
"We don't fight for money. Money fights to have us."
Yes! I won't be the trash my family wanted me to be! I'll have money, but first of all, they will want me!
"We are the Mercenaries of the future and Heirs of the past."
The officer's words lit a flame within me; the words of my fellow soldiers filled me with courage.
"Swords in hand. Networks in mind. Don't challenge us. They'll find you dead!"
Swords, technology, power, fear—I'll make them all fear me, just like they used to humiliate me!
"Armies, Colossi, Titans, and other Gods, all fall here. Rise, weeping, and fight like it's your last day here! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISE and FIGHT!"
That's when everything changed!
My smile became wide.
My gaze grew sharp!
The party is just getting started.
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