Rising

///July 2nd, 2222\\\

 I was responding to emails about interviews and shit when a guard rushed in. Akaalist stood up from sitting on papers on my desk.

"An attack on Ares Lab 009," He said. I cursed under my breath and leapt out the window. In the last few years I had gotten good at gravity manipulation. I pulled myself upwards over the mountains as the camera feed appeared in my eye. Black SUVs sat outside in convoy fashion. On the door read; C.R.I.N.G.E, below it it red letters were scrawled; RISES. More were in the distance. The water around the bog was slightly red and a body lay missing a head still holding an automatic rifle. Blood sprayed out from the door. I turned the camera as I fell to Doggerland. Ares stood covered in blood holding the Knightblade. I closed the video feed as the bog became visible. I locked on the first car in the second convoy. I allowed gravity to take me and Akaalist formed in blade form. The black crystal blade fell onto the hood and split down the middle in the front as it flew overhead. Bones grew from my arm covering my robotic left hand forming a hammer with spikes. I slashed the tires of the next one and whacked it to the side with my bone hammer. I focused for a second and the driver of the third one exploded in blood and guts. I rushed and jumped up impaling the passenger. I jumped up leaving the sword in the body and slamming my hammer down into the fourth vehicle causing it to explode, to which I made a force field as the bone hammer shattered and Akaalist Blade formed back in my hand from black smoke with green lights wisping through it. The men in black body armor with ballistic face masks with the CRINGE RISING on it shot at me. I waited until they were done shooting. I dropped the force field and threw my sword at the one on the left, it landed and he dropped in a spray of blood. The second one looked surprised to which I ran up jumped on the hood and landed the blade hilt on his head. I teleported handcuffs to me and I arrested him. I dragged him to the outside warehouse and zip cuffed him to a chair. I took of his mask. It was Kirito.

"Fuck," I said. Two soldiers were here now too. I ordered them to go check the others. A few were Kiritos. I slapped him awake, I changed my voice to be deeper.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" I shouted.

His eyes darted open and he shouted something in japanese and looked up. I looked up too. A man dropped down putting a tanto through his head and then grabbing a small knife and stabbing his own throat. Grey matter squeezed out of Kirito's head as blood poured down the tanto like a river. Blood sprayed out of the other man's jugular as well as he fell to the ground and it pooled beneath him. Fuck. Still after nine years, we had never been able to capture a living AE being. I subconsciously felt at the scars on my stomach and the metal, cybernetic attachments. I always wore a long coat because the layers. Most of the biological tissue I had left was horribly scarred or burned. I flashed back to those days. Working in the camps, my brothers in bondage, our escape, our plans, their death. I remembered how good it felt impaling the president on his own blade. I had gotten my vengeance. I had systematically taken down a vast empire. I spilled gallons, seas of blood upon the soil of Inter. If there was one thing I was good at it was killing; mercilessly. I remembered the brutal deaths of the weebs in the apocalypse week from May 10th to May 17th. The RSA was attacked and we had no back up. CRINGE invaded. The government was practically destroyed. I thought we were goners. I remember the cold nights in the caves, fighting weebs and taking back my country. Fuck. I snapped back to reality as Ares tapped me.

"Wake up, what do we do now? That was our only connective tissue!," He said.

"We can only wait," I said.

"Wait just a minute, gimme a few weeks i'll figure something out," He said. I nodded and walked out. Today hadn't been the best. I was dwelling. I walked to my office somber. This happened sometimes, the acknowledgement I'm 200 years old and all the shit I've done and how little it bothered me when I know it probably should. I grabbed a bottle of vodka and went to my office to drink the memories away. I'd have to kill again in this war, but hopefully not as much. Subconsciously I realised that was a lie. If there was something I was good at, it would be killing; I crave the bloodletting of those who threaten my home, to kill them and soak their soil in their blood. I wanted to kill. I had to fight that urge, this would not be a war of death, but rather one of science, understanding and peace.