This is a compilation of three stories, each taking place before the events of String Theory: A Fanfic, coming to Wood River Ink on June 7th!

~SUMMARY OF STORIES~

Unknown Sergeant: Exactly one month after the destruction of Starkiller Base, the First Order raids a smuggling vessel only to find something more valuable than the contraband: a fox named Floofy. The Order quickly finds out that Floofy is a natural-born soldier as she dominates the rest of her class. Now, she has been promoted to sergeant and has her own squad. However, a mission to control a Resistance base goes awry, and valuable secrets are revealed. This story is told in the Give You Glory font.

The Planning of Anarchy: Jysse ‘Z’ Lotus has always intimidated everyone, especially her parents, with her extreme sadism, cunning, and tactical intelligence. She has been known as an ‘excellent candidate to start a war’ multiple times. Now, as the leader of the new, yet highly dangerous and feared, criminal organization known as the Black Sun, she is faced with an offer of money and power. All she has to do is accept the deal. This story is told in the Signika font

Theoretical: Gerald “Uniter” Starlight has always dreamed of a better life. Everyday, he faces abusive adoptive parents, horrid schoolmates, and constant loneliness. It seemed like the Internet was the only treatment for his constant torture. However, one day, everything changes when he encounters an individual online, only known as “Senior.” This story is told in the Quicksand font.

 

STORY ONE: Unknown Sergeant

I wake up and face a dozen or so metal crates, each containing mysterious things. My clothes, a simple blue jacket and white shorts, are slightly dirty. I do not know where I am or where I come from. Yet, a sense of peacefulness fills me in a situation that would normally cause distress. I see a device with some sort of button. I press it, and a map of the galaxy appears. I can make out a few planets: Tatooine, Geonosis, Arkanis, Kamino, Coruscant, the remains of Hosnian Prime. Wait, where’s Earth? How do I know all of these planets’ names? I find another button on the device, this one being a search function. I type in “Earth,” but an error message pops up, reading: “ERROR: PLANET UNKNOWN.” I hear banging outside.

“Get up, Infi-Credits! The First Order is here!” someone opens the door and yells. I deactivate the device and quickly run. The guy is tall, with gray eyes and a brown jacket. I snake around the crates, hoping that he does not find me. Then, I feel something pull my tail.

“Gotcha!” he smiles. Three red laser bolts pierce his body, killing him nearly instantly. Three people in white armor look in the crates, looking at their contents in disgust. One of them spots me. He must notice my fear, as he lays down his weapon and walks over to me. He holds his hand up and pats my head and ears. This motion comforts me very much. He then escorts me to a large, boxy ship. We take off and head towards a larger thing. Multiple starfighters exit and enter from the docking bays.

A lady dressed in the same armor as the troopers, except in silver, motions for me to follow her. Her name is Phasma. She asks me a few questions.

“What is your name?” her voice is stern

“Floofy…” I mutter.

“What exactly are you?”

“A fox…”

“Why were you in there?”

“I don’t know. I woke up in there.”

“Where you taken prisoner?”

“I honestly don’t remember anything before what happened a few minutes ago.”

“Oh… I see. Here are your living quarters. Training starts tomorrow.” she leads me into a room with a few beds. There are many people in there, staring at me and my abnormalities. They must think i’m some sort of freak. I lay down on my bed and doze off.

The next day, my training officially begins. We are lead into a room with a metallic floor. Everyone in my dorm is here, laughing and poking fun at my fox body. Phasma then speaks up, “Soldiers, who do you pledge your allegiance to?” We respond with, “The First Order!” She then hands us a blaster and debriefs us about our simulated mission: A Resistance base has been found and we must destroy it. Phasma leaves and the simulation starts. The room instantly becomes a Resistance base. Three simulated Resistance troopers defend an armored wall. My team looks puzzled.

“Those guys have some crazy firepower and a big wall. What do we do?” someone asks

“How about we use fox-face here as bait while we fire at them?” someone else suggests. To my disappointment, everyone agrees with that plan. I stand near the troops and fire at them. I hit perfectly, and they fall to the floor faster than they could react. Everyone looks at me, surprised. I hear three more simulated troopers walking. I pinpoint their locations, and fire. More surprised looks. More and more soldiers walk in, and this gets easier and easier. Everyone simply stands there stupidly as they watch me annihilating simulated Resistance troopers in waves of three. The simulation stops, the environment flickers out of existence, and Phasma appears. “I am very disappointed in all of you, except for Floofy. You all unanimously voted to let one of your fellow soldiers fight and die for no reason other than their species. I cannot believe in these xenophobic tendencies.” she reprimands the class. Everyone apologizes to me, except for the guy who suggested that I fight the defending troopers. He simply charges towards me and pulls my tail hard. Phasma stuns him and kicks him aside.

“Floofy, i’m sorry that this happened. However, you seem to be an excellent fighter. The fact that you defeated about ten soldiers in a span of 30 seconds, it’s an impressive feat, especially for new trainees like you. I think I might have to promote you as this class may not challenge you enough.” she offers.

“Yes, ma’am.” I respond.

“Very well, I’ll talk to General Hux and Kylo Ren about approving your premature promotion to officer.”

“Th-thank you…” I don’t know how to respond. I’ve only been here for a day and I’m already being promoted to officer?!

“Please return to your dorms!” she sends us off. Back in my bed, someone walks up to me.

“I’m FN-2134, but you can call me Jesse, what’s yours?” her voice is melodic.

“Floofy, wasn’t that clear enough?” my tone has a hint of annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I just kinda forget stuff easily… ya know?”

“Yeah… I guess so.”

“So… you’re a fox, right?” she questions.

“Yes!” I yawn. Jesse laughs at this.

“Hehe! You’re so hilarious!” her face is red from laughing. I honestly didn’t think I was that funny. Another guy walks up to me. He looks like Jesse, but with a male look instead.

“I’m FN-2109. Call me Jack. Can’t believe that you destroyed those guys that fast. Listen, we’re all kinda sorry we agreed with FN-2123. He’s kind of a jerk, ya know?” he admits

“So basically he’s a cliche bully?” I ask

“I guess he’s a cliche Bully!” he laughs.

“Hehe… yea…” I sigh.

“Something wrong?”

“Well… I really feel left out.”

“Two-three makes everyone who’s new feel like that. It’s part of the ‘initiation’ he does.”

“Yep! He’s definitely a cliche bully! Just…. Why? I mean how does somebody be such a cliche and be okay with it! Just… how?!”

“Oi, Fox-face!” someone shouts. I turn around.

“What do you want, Two-three?” I hiss

“Call me Master, Fox-face! After all, you are going to be my slave!” he stares at my fur.

“Mate, why?”

“Because you are a fox, so you are inferior!” he ‘explains’

“So? I can hear, see, and react about ten times better than you. Plus, I can see in the dark. What can you do? Be an idiot? Oh, maybe it’s being the personification of such an overused cliche?” everyone cheers.

“Well…at least I can… um…. I…” he struggles to find an excuse.

“What’s wrong? Can you only remember your faults and not your ‘perfections’?”

“At least I don’t have fur all over!”

“This fur makes me warm, silly!”

“EURGH! Enough! Just die already! I hate you! I don’t even think that you can-” Phasma interrupts.

“That’s enough, FN-2123. This is the 15th time I’ve heard your obscenities this rotation! I think I may have to demote you to basic trainee. Would you like that?”

“Screw you, Phasma! I am only being competitive here!” he shouts. Then, an alarm is activated.

“IMPENDING RESISTANCE ATTACK. READY ALL TROOPS AND PREPARE DEFENSIVE MANEUVERS!” it announces. Two-three gets a blaster and runs into the ship bay. Phasma runs after him and asks us to follow. Two-three is firing at three T-70 Resistance X-wings. Wait, how do I know that?

“Two-three! Get away from there!” Phasma shouts, but it’s too late. Two-three jumps on one of the starfighters and attempts to attack the pilot. The fighter performs an aileron roll and shakes Two-three into the floor, breaking his back. His wails of agony only seem to enhance his bloodthirst. Limping and slowly dying, Two-three throws a Thermal Imploder at the T-70’s, but it misses and instead destroys 15 TIE fighters. I’m surprised at how much I know about starships! The T-70’s decide that they’ve had enough and fire four times at Two-three, killing him instantly. Phasma seems somewhat pleased. Everyone looks at his body in shock, even me. I look at Phasma.

“He weakened the Order. It’s better this way. Any hole in the Order’s net can increase and advance to other sectors and squads. He was reckless and insecure.” she informs us. I walk over to his body and feel remorse. I was the one who inspired this stunt. He wanted to be better than me. He wanted to impress me.

A week later, Two-three’s tragic death was completely forgotten. Even though I feel some remorse, it was his fault for being kinda stupid. Phasma has attempted to promote me to officer numerous times, but failed each attempt. I have written down each try. So far, she’s at five. I get up from bed and head to the break room. On my way, someone grabs my arms and I black out.

I wake up in a dark room illuminated by a single light. I find myself draped over a table, my whole body cold.

“Phasma has told me all about you,” a distorted voice begins, “officer Floofy.”

“Wha…?” the light blinds me.

“Yesterday, Hux finally decided to promote you, much to my dismay. I sense something in you, Floofy. Something that bothers me. You have an accelerated training rate. You are completing various exercises in record time, seemingly without knowing it. I suspect that you may have been an Imperial experiment.”

“Imperial… experiment…?”

“Yes, you may have been taken from your home of… what was it again?”

“Earth…?”

“Yes, Earth. They may have taken you from there and experimented on you with various serums and medicines. But, there’s something else… I suspect that you may have been the first successful escapee from one of those labs. That would explain why we found you in a Corellian shuttle commonly used for smuggling. The Smuggler must have somehow wiped your memory and attempted to sell you for Credits. He did not care about the ethics; he only wanted the money.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it means that you must be kept. We cannot afford to lose Imperial property. Our very existence is only due to the Galactic Empire’s humiliating defeat. We must keep their legacy; acquiring and stealing Imperial assets will help us do that.”

“Oh… I…”

“I am Kylo Ren. Phasma has insisted that she train you, but I refuse. You have something in you that she does not understand. I can help you achieve your full potential, Officer Floofy. Just say yes.”

“…very well…” I accept.

“Come with me.” he unfastens the latches on my arms and legs. I follow him into a large room full of deactivated droids.

“What are we doing here? Don’t I need a blaster?” I ask

“You are Force-sensitive. I can feel it,” he sighs, “focus on the droids and pick it up.” I do as he says. I focus hard on lifting the droids. I picture it in my mind, picking up the droid and smashing it against the others. I open my eyes, but nothing changes. I sit down. Kylo pulls out a device. He pricks my finger with it.

“That’s disappointing…” he begins.

“What is?” I question.

“You are Force-sensitive, but it’s negligible. You may as well as ignore it’s existence,” he walks over to the droids and ignites some sort of weapon, “You may as well as ignore it’s existence! This is a horrid joke! I wanted an apprentice!” he slashes at the droids in anger twenty times. Then, he removes his helmet, throws it at another droid and begins to cry.

“It’s…” I begin.

“Nobody has done a successful transfer of Force-sensitivity. I just wanted an apprentice, just like my grandfather once had…” he complains in between sobs. Phasma enters the room and escorts me to training.

“What were you doing with Kylo?” she asks.

“I just woke up in there. He said something about me being an ‘Imperial experiment’ and ‘not very Force-sensitive’ before throwing a tantrum.” I tell her.

“Hopefully after this session, Hux will promote you to Officer.”

“He already did last night. Kylo said so.”

“I guess I do not have anything to teach you. Hux will have to assign you a squad today.”

“Hello, Phasma, Hello Sergeant Floofy.” a man in a black trenchcoat greets us.

“Hello, Hux” Phasma greets.

“Wait, segreant?” my surprise is evident.

“Yes, ‘Sergeant,’ a rank in the Order’s Infantry. Controls many squads. Above Trooper Officer, below Captain. Something like that.”

“But, I thought I was an Officer. What’s with the sudden promotion?”

“Your skills in simulated battle seem to heavily outweigh your… unfamiliarity among the Order. You are a prodigy in battle, Floofy. You deserve this rank.”

“Thank you…”
“I have assigned a new squad under your control. Floofy squad, please introduce yourselves!” a few Stormtroopers appear and salute me.

—–

 

One month later, my squad and I have been assigned to capture and control a Resistance Base on Takodana, near the former location of Maz Kanata’s castle. As the Assault Lander approaches its destination, three ion cannons are fired and hit our ship. I prepare emergency maneuvers and somewhat safely land in a clearing. I get out my custom blaster and peer through the sniper scope. I spot twelve Resistance Troopers guarding a wall. This sight is exactly like the one I trained on and impressed everyone with! From my numerous record-setting training sessions, I figure that if we call in an airstrike on the center building, it could distract the rest of the base, allowing for easy snipping and infiltration.

“Sergeant Floofy here, calling an airstrike on the central building in the Resistance Base. Zeta squadron’s finest!” I call on my comm. Moments later, four Special Forces TIE Fighters attack the circular structure, destroying the top and the guard towers. A Thermal Detonator is thrown into the air, and all four craft are destroyed. This is my chance. I snipe three guards and destroy a Rebellion-era Juggernaut with another Thermal Detonator. I run in and fire at fifteen troops, not missing a shot. I run into the headquarters and disable any communications. They are now stranded with no way of escape.

“Hey, I thought we were friends!” one of them shouts.

“You were never my friend!” I tell him

“True… I just wanted some remorse from you.” he admits. I fire at him. One of my troops walks out of a building.

“Sergeant Floofy, we have found locations of several Resistance bases.” she reports.

“Report it to the Order” I respond. Then, an X-wing is heard, but I see it in the sky. The Black One, Poe Dameron’s signature fighter. Four others follow behind in a ‘V’ shape. I focus my firepower on them, but it’s useless. Poe fires at my squad, killing every trooper one by one. I take cover in the main headquarters when I find a small latch. I open it and jump inside the room. Once I activate a flashlight on my weapon, I find several transmissions inside of a disk. I tap one of them, titled “URGENT! Order Destabilization Plan.” A hologram of a hooded man appears from the disk.

“General Leia Organa, it is my pleasure to finally meet you. I am Gerald Starlight. My acquaintance and I have devised a plan to rid the galaxy of the First Order. All you need to do is accept.” THe transmission cuts short. Then, the latch opens. Poe Dameron stares at me from the other side.

“Hey! I think we got ourselves a.,” he notices my tail swaying back and forth, “a fox?! The Order is accepting foxes now? Lemme tell you what’s next! Tomorrow they’ll start hiring Resistance members!” laughter erupts from the other side. He pulls out a blaster and sets it to stun. I hold out my hands in front of me in a defensive-cowering position and close my eyes.. I hear Poe yell, “What the..?” before he is pushed back into something.. I open my eyes and stare at Dameron. He’s slouched against the wall, struggling to get back up. I flip into the ground floor. I kick two pilots and fire at another. They retaliate, but I’m too quick for them. Soon enough, everyone’s on the floor with injuries of some kind. I run out of the base and contact the Finalizer.

“I need someone to carry me back. The Resistance base had Poe Dameron’s backup!” I comm.

“Roger that, Sergeant Floofy! An escort vehicle will be here-” someone cuts him off.

“Do not send any escort vehicles. I will pick her up myself.” I recognize Kylo’s distorted voice. Five minutes later, I spot a black shuttle of some kind. It must be Kylo’s personal ship. It lands a few meters away from me. A ramp folds down and Kylo motions for me to enter.

“I found a disk full of important Resistance documents and transmissions. I looked at one.” I report.

“What did it say?” he inquires.

“A hooded guy said something to ‘General Leia Organa’ about getting rid of the First Order.”

“My mother is attempting to make me disappear?! I cannot believe her stupidity!” he lashes out on a training droid, splitting it in half over a dozen times.

We reach the Finalizer. General Hux and Captain Phasma await us. I hand Hux the disc full of Resistance Secrets. He thanks me for it and apologizes for the ‘inadequate’ squad I was assigned. Phasma escorts me to my personal living quarters. It is about as big as the dormitories, but with a single bed and plenty of room for tables, chairs, etc. I lay down on my bed. An hour later, someone’s at the door, panting.

“Sergeant Floofy,” he says, “the Order’s leaders are gone!”

 

STORY TWO: The Planning of Anarchy

 

I watch over the city, watching the cars and busses drive by, the animals walking to work or school. This peacefulness… it’s agonizing. My reflection, a silver tiger with indigo accents, agrees. Here we are, the ‘shining city’ of… I don’t even want to mention it. This city’s just so pathetic, being managed by an imbecilic lion. He approves of ‘fairness’ and ‘respect,’ terms that sicken me. Nobody deserves that, except for the Black Sun. We reign supreme because we say so. While many criminal groups try bootlegging and stealing things, we are hidden, pulling the strings and manipulating each detail. We may be a new group, but our forces are growing and the fear is spreading. Soon, Phase One of my plan will begin. I just need more time, more soldiers, more materials… more money. Then, Phase Two can truly start. But, I’d better focus on ‘now’, and not ‘then.’ Tomorrow, we will pick off where that sheep Bellwether started: turning the citizens of this city against each other.  

“Z, we have found a location full of nighthowler plants.” a soldier arrives.

“Harvest all of them. I need as many of those plants as possible. We must have enough for over a million darts.” I respond.

“Yes, ma’am.” he leaves. I sit down on my chair. The city is still the same. I look at my paws, stained with blood from today’s training. People have always feared me. Perhaps it was because of my extreme sadism. Maybe it was because I could plan a full-scale invasion of a fictional country in under five minutes, with a success rate of about 99.99%, on the hardest difficulty in battle simulations. Whatever’s the case, now’s the time to put the skills to the test. I think back on the money problem. Then, I remember one of the most richest people I know: the leader of the Tundratown ‘mafia’, if you can call it that, an arctic shrew ironically named Mr Big. I often joke about whether he’s attempting to compensate for something with his large buildings and vehicles.

—–

 

At this time, Tundratown is a bit lonely. It is the perfect time for an attack. I prepare my troops and move them towards Mr. Big’s mansion. “Fire at will!” I laugh. Three rockets are fired at the front, and three polar bears appear, preparing to guard the building. I simply stab them with some throwing stars I had made and they fall, clutching their wounds in agony. I simply laugh at the way they wail. We move onwards, destroying and looting whatever we please. We wipe out the defenses too easily. Soon enough, I arrive at the shrew’s office. I kick the door from its hinges.

“Give me a million dollars right now.” I order.

“Mmm… you have arrived. Mmm, I don’t think so. I don’t give money… to people like you.” he refuses. I slap him out of his tiny chair, nearly breaking it.

“Search for the money!” I bark. Everyone begins searching, including me. I break apart a few floorboards and walls.

“Ma’am, I found a safe!” someone announces. I walk over there and plow it open with my bare paws. Millions upon millions of dollars are inside. I quickly close the hinge and walk out of the room. Back at base, I throw the safe down on the floor and push it aside for later. Tomorrow, we will raid him once again for more hidden treasures like this one.

Back at the base, my soldiers are training. Even though we’ve had a successful raid, a little training can’t hurt, right? I stand in the doorway and watch, a smile creeping up my face. Twelves, the head-elephant and second-in-command of the Black Sun, incites a young tiger to fight him. Poor fool, he’ll never win against Twelves. The tiger swipes his claws at Twelves, but the elephant counters it by swiping his feet and smacking him to the wall. The young fighter grunts before charging at his opponent once again. He dodges four of the head-elephant’s attacks before Twelves’ tusks pierce his body. The tiger moans in pain and gives up.

“Already? You’re giving up already?” I step inside the room and glare at the tiger.

“I”m losing…so much energy and… I’m bleeding…” he pants, his whiskers twitching rapidly.

“If you get tired this easily, you may have to stay back from tomorrow’s raid, lad.”

“I’m sorry, Z, but I just-”

“Well then, it’s official. You’ll stay back here tomorrow.” I turn away and return to my room. Staring outside, I spot some sort of purple cloud in the distance. I rush outside when a large, black raven-like object is pushed out of the cloud before disappearing. The object lands a few meters away from me, its ‘wings’ folding parallel to each other. A loading ramp of some sort folds down, and someone walks out of it. He seems unsure of where he is or what happened. I honestly am excited to encounter something so… unnatural.

“Heyo.” I look at him or her.

“Where… “ his voice is distorted, “Where are we…?”

“Some stupid place. My name’s Z. I’m the leader of the Black Sun. And you…?”

“This place doesn’t resemble any place known in the Galaxy.”

“Well, your thing did just come out of a storm of sorts.” Another individual in silver armor and a wolf follow this person.

“Kylo, I think I know where we are…” the wolf seems confident.

“Hux, you do not know anything! Ever since Snoke asked you to take a break, you’ve become significantly lazier than before!” the hooded guy hisses.

“How about you two just shush up and introduce yourselves to me.” I interrupt. The wolf and hooded guy sigh before revealing themselves as  Hux and Kylo Ren, respectively. The silver individual is known as Phasma. Kylo and Phasma aren’t wolves, foxes, bunnies, elephants, or anything really. Kylo is the first one to reveal himself as a human, or what we call Sapiens. In addition, they come from somewhere known as the Outer Rim. I’m starting to suspect that they may be interdimensional time-travelling travellers or something, as these terms mean nothing to me. Out of remorse, a feeling I’ve only felt twice before, I decide to let them stay with us for a bit. I lead them inside, when Kylo begins asking me something.

“Z, the First Order and I-” he begins

“I know the drill, you guys wanna control the city and add it to your territory. I want to do that too. Honestly, I think we could work together…”

“Excellent. Now, I only have problem-”

“One problem?  More like a whole lot of problems. The ZPD’s been on my tail, metaphorically, since the first raid a week  ago.”

“The Z… P…D…?”

“Y’know, the city’s police department. Officers Hopps and Wilde, protecting your children from the evil Black Sun! Oooh! Spooky! Blatant Propaganda!” I wave my paws in a mocking fashion.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve just arrived here like five minutes ago.”

“Lemme give you a crash course on the ZPD and their propaganda.” I take out a piece of paper and sketch an accurate drawing of a fox and bunny.

“Are these the officers you were talking about?”

“Yep, you can probably guess who’s who.”

“These two are the ones you believe we must take out of the equation, do you not?”

“Yes. If we can remove these propaganda pieces,” I draw X’s in the eyes of the animals, “ we can weaken the department to the point of rendering obsolete… we just-”

“We could integrate the Order into the police force. Perhaps they’ll accept us and give up their rights without a fight?”

“If they believe that’s what’s needed to stop my crime… oh my, that’s a great idea!”

“But something about these two bothers me… we must still remove them.”

“Very well then, “ I motion for my troops, “Let’s change the location of tomorrow’s attack. We’ll lure them in and hopefully have them fight to the death by using the Nighthowler serum.”

“Nighthowler serum…?”

“You’ll see what it is soon enough!” I smile at him. I give the order to begin, and we both return inside my office.

 

STORY THREE: Theoretical

 

Sometimes, I lay down on bed and stare into the silent darkness. I’ve always loved going to sleep as it frees me from the agony that is my life. For five hours, my body can take a rest from the endless suffering brought upon me from my ‘parents’ and schoolmates. My alarm wakes me from my peace.

“Wake up before I regret adopting you, Gerald!” my adoptive mother shouts. I stand up from my bed. She grabs my arm and hits it twice with a belt before flipping me off. Then, she grabs me and shoves me into the car before shutting the door and angrily driving me to school.

“What was that for, Suzanne?” she’s not my real mother, so I simply address her with her real name.

“Gerald, shut up and eat your breakfast!” she’s eying the road angrily. My ‘breakfast’ is simply a granola bar and a juice box. When we arrive at Triple Path Private School, Suzanne kicks me out of the car. Then, she hits me with my backpack. I walk inside, rubbing the spot where I was hit. Everyone’s laughing and talking about me, as usual. Ever since I first attended this school, nobody’s ever wanted to do anything with me. Everyone knows that I’m adopted, and they simply can’t live with that. Stupid kids, thinking that they’re better because they were lucky for getting a life. First and second period are the same as always: do this, do that, do a bunch of things. Third period is somewhat interesting as we learn about the history of the Republic of Millennials, a country in South America. It was apparently founded in 2010 near Brazil. Still pretty boring, though. Lunch is slightly worse than usual. Brendan, my adoptive father, forgot to pack me anything. I just put my head down on the table and wait for the minutes to tick by. A few kids surround me. They must be trying to anger me, as they keep talking, poking, pushing and hitting me, along with dozens of other things. Fourth, fifth and sixth periods are even worse than the classes before it. I fell asleep five times during the span of these periods. One of my teachers decides that enough is enough. “Are you even listening, Gerald?” he shouts. I nod and fall asleep again. When school ends, I walk home. The stores on Central Square are inviting. Too bad Brendan and Suzanne will never let me go to the mall without their permission.

I open the door to the apartment and run to my room. My ‘father’ runs after me and grabs my hand forcefully.

“What is the meaning of this?” he holds up a metallic object.

“It’s a survival knife, Brendan.” I sigh

“Why would you ever need this?”

“Reasons…” I mutter.

“What did you say?!”

“I said ‘reasons!’ That knife’s the only ‘gift’ i’ve ever had. Y’know, I hate this place! Both of you treat me like trash, everyone at school makes fun of me because I’m adopted, and I feel as if I don’t exist! I’ve been trying to tell you this for the last ten years, but you always ignore me!”

“Go back to your room before I get out the belt!”

“Get the belt, I don’t care! Whatever it takes to break me from this misery!”

“You will continue attending that school!”

“No! Go away and learn some respect!” our argument echoes in the walls. Brendan whips me with the belt five times. I run into my room and lock the door. My laptop is still there, beckoning for me to come forward. I open it up and go to Sync Chat, a fairly new communication hub of sorts, similar to 4Chan or Skype. Then, I attach a RetScreen, a type of peripheral, to the side of my head. RetScreens are supposed to allow you to use two screens simultaneously. I tap the side of it and a small square is projected. I navigate it to a music website. Back on Sync Chat, I’m welcomed online by a few people. I tell everyone about my horrid day. At least tomorrow’s Saturday. I completely ignore everything except for Sync Chat. It’s fun talking to random strangers. However, it’s 11:30 and I must go to bed. The relief floods me again. Perhaps I can dream of a better life.

The next day, I receive a notification on Sync Chat. Somebody named “Senior” wishes to talk to me. I accept the request.

“Hello, Gerald.” he begins.

“Heyo…?” I reply.

“You must go somewhere right now…”

“What?”

“Run away and meet me. Give me your bank account and I’ll give you all the money you need to survive.” I stand there, not knowing whether to go or not. I decide to do it anyways; anything’s better than this… life.

“I’ll do it.”

“Mall in ten minutes.” he signs off. I am confused by that phrase, but I still decide to go. I pack my laptop in my backpack, along with its charger and other necessities. I jump out and run into the street. The mall’s contemporary design sticks out from the plain, monotone buildings surrounding it. I see a note on the door. It reads, “Gerald, meet @ New York, WTC 1/Freedom Tower in 15 mins.” NYC’s a few weeks away on foot, so how would I get there? I look for another clue. The back of the note reads, “Secret in Mall, ask for Senior @ desk.” I walk inside the mall.

“Hello and welcome to Downtown Ash City’s mall. Do you need help with something?” the clerk asks.

“I’m looking for a ‘Senior’ guy or gal, have you seen them?” I reply. The clerk is silent.

“Your fate is not yet sealed, Gerald Starlight. This is your chance to redeem your life. Follow me.” he rips apart a bit of carpet, revealing a hatch. I go inside and he closes it, waving good-bye to me. I see a dim light in the distance. I walk towards it and find a mysterious hole in the ground. I jump into it and quickly regret it. I fall for what seems like infinity. Then, I see the sky, buildings, cars and people on the other side. I close my eyes and find myself in the middle of Times Square. People are walking, taxis are driving, and the noise level is ten times softer than Suzanne’s ‘lessons.’ I ask someone if they know the way to Freedom Tower. Turns out, it’s about an hour on foot and half-hour in car. Then, someone taps my shoulder and I turn around. A lady with pink eyes, black hair with magenta accents, and in a black hoodie with a bunny on the front stands behind me.

“Are you Gerald Starlight?” she asks.

“Yes, why?” I wonder.

“Senior has told me about you. Quick, let’s go inside the Starbucks over there,” she drags me to the coffee shop, “concentrate on teleporting us to World Trade Center One. I know you can do it.” I oblige, but not without fear. How do I even teleport us anywhere? How does this work? Why am I even here? I sigh and concentrate. A hole appears below us. The patrons step away and run in surprise. A few people take out their phones and record us. We step inside and the hole shuts.

The wormhole takes us to the base of the World Trade Center. The shining glass structure and its sister building, currently under construction, standing next to it. A man in a hooded cloak walks out of the tower.

“Hello Uniter and Finder. I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain everything.” his voice is somewhat dry.

“Who are you?” I ask

“Why, you know who I am: Senior. You are the Uniter, and she is the Finder.”

“But what do those terms mean?” we enter an elevator.

“It means that you have gifts. Special gifts that were granted to you when you were born.”

“Wait, so we’re magical?”

“No! Magic is different. Magic deals with spells and brewing and such. This is only theoretical science.”

“Theoretical…?” we exit the elevator and continue walking.

“Yes… theoretical. Both of you have seen glimpses of different dimensions before, other universes, haven’t you?”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Now… I have a question for you” he stands near a window.

“Please explain everything! This makes absolutely no sense!” I ask

“Very well,” Senior obliges, “we are not completely human. In reality, we are somewhat cyborgs, enhanced with cybernetics. If you did not know, our world is much different than you may think. I have seen Standard, the origin of everything. It is the Standard Universe, used to help differentiate Universes. We live in a technologically advanced Universe. We use technology a decade better than Standard does. In our dimension, scientists have discovered how to create basic wormholes. However, their research was destroyed by an unknown group. We are the only ones who have received the fruit of their research. But this gift is what unites us. You two are part of a group known as the Dimensionals.”

“This is way too complicated! Can’t we just say that we live in an alternate dimension where magic exists?” I blurt out. “Finder” agrees with me.

“Fine then. But the truth is much-” I interrupt him

“Why are we even talking about dimensions and standards and whatever when we don’t even know how to teleport to other dimensions!?” I am simply too confused to understand these theoretical sciences.

“Fine, here’s a simple explanation: we are cyborg-ish! Is that simple enough?” Senior hisses.

“Thank you!” Finder motions angrily.

“I need your help with something. Well, rather my brother Crossover needs help with something.”

“Sure, I guess.” I finally sigh.

“Excellent,” he closes his eyes and brings up a portal, “jump in.” I do, and we end up in a large, white floating building of some sort, decorated with glass. The roof is curved and decorated with silver and gray designs.

“Senior, you’ve found Uniter and Finder!” someone shouts.

“Yes, brother, I have found the Uniter and the Finder.” he looks at a hooded figure. He’s somewhat tall.

“Umm… who are you?” I laugh a bit.

“I’m Crossover. Let’s get started our plan, shall we? Elites!” he claps his hands. Then, footsteps are heard. In the span of a few seconds, the decorated walls are covered by ten people with black and white hoods. Their faces are covered by a white, expressionless mask with a crescent hole on the left, revealing dark, expressionless eyes. They each hold some sort of weapon with a crescent design protruding from the hilt. Suddenly, in a synchronized fashion, the weapons are flicked forward and metallic tubes emerge from the hilts, transforming the sword-like thing into a staff-like thing. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“W-where did you get these troops? How did you get these troops?” Finder’s eyes are wide with excitement. I look at the troops, utterly confused and astonished at the same time.

“We have special abilities, y’know. One of them is the creation of non-sentient life. Using light and such, I can pretty much make people out of the blue! Even better, they can’t think for themselves!”

“What abilities do I have?” Finder asks.

“Well, we kind of share the same tricks, heh…”

“Oh…” Finder’s eyes are full of disappointment.

“Let’s just get started, ‘kay?” he motions for us to enter a green ship. He sends us coordinates on where to go. He then tells us that we must go there and ask for a specific list of people. We just sit down in the chair and do what we are told.

We approach the Finalizer, one of the First Order’s flagships. Or at least, my RetScreen scanned it and then told me that it was the Finalizer. I request permission to talk to them. Finder sits behind me, patiently waiting to make our move. Access is granted.

“Hello, members of the First Order.” I begin.