The Empty Cultivator.

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Summary

A black cloud drapes the sun and beings the horrors of the universe to a planet. A connection to the true heavens is established and the system of all realities re-forges the planet and its people. A monster rises from the sand...but it is empty. Its body is empty. Red thunder fills the skies, as a river of blood falls from the head of the champion of humanity. "A man that stands for nothing, falls for everything." Machine takes the throne of gods... Human mistake is the fall of men...but machines don't make mistakes. Think again. A mistake was made. -------------------------- Hi. I have reached the limit of what I can achieve without experience...so that is why I want to write to you, the public. Go ahead and tell me what you think. I have sharpened my skills, but I need someone to toople me off my little mountain. If you are that person...thank you in advance. ^_^

Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
7
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
18+

Chapter 1: The Clouded Sun.

Only when you are true to yourself will you truly be free.



°

Pulling his blue binders into a little box. A man in an office attire below a black leather jacket, around his 20's, with shorth faded black hair; light brown eyes, and a well-chiseled jawline. Nudged open the door of his private office.

Co-workers eyed him with scowls from their corners of the department, as he stepped outside with his stuff. The room was a normal blue-white office. Man and machine. Not a single automated hiss sprung from robotic joints, as the machines rolled over and on the desks of the office carefully operating as helpers, and videotaping the employees.

"Fucking robits, right?"

He stared at the dude standing next to him.

The arrival of the man was not that surprising...even if the man kept to himself most of the time. "Yeah…," he said quietly, moving to the elevator's door. It was strange his co-worker didn't stop him for his usual sales pitch. He figured the man had dipped a card in his stuff and rolled his eyes.

He glanced down at the box holding his papers and family picture frames. Behind the picture of his tot hamster was a card. A blue card. The blue card was perhaps for another place like this, maybe an active one. He just regretted the man had not done his sales pitch because he kinda liked the 'recruiting,' as his co-worker called them, for it was his only source of leisure in this queasy office.

His co-worker, with his retired general look,(not that he knew how a general would look like, but he liked to imagine they would look like his sneaky co-worker;) would display a card and give his militia's call for arms, parading heroic poses and occasionally crying on a little wooden box he got from inventory. He said that they were his audience and he was the showmaster.

He glanced back at the man and saw a big smile on his face, It went well with his military cut. "Take an opportunity, Eugine," his co-worker said, standing proudly and slowly parting his lips into a smile before the elevator door hissed close.

Maybe one day, big guy.

It was the year: 1.18LK, the first circle of the Gornols calendar. He swiveled away from the door and looked at the see-through glass behind; letting him see a flourishing city. Things had been quiet a year and a quarter ago. Political madness has been the main course of interest until a giant veil of darkness had fastened itself to their sun.

Scientists demystified the incident by informing the masses it was a natural event. A simple chemical response of two varied elements. He had already investigated and he was uncertain.

Skeptics called these scientists idiots, as they denoted how the clouds were the reapers of the holy manuscripts. A faction of scientists and skeptics said something else was amiss (the light) and called the event, "morbid and apocalyptic."

It amused him how the limelight could fall on the surface of a planet and brighten only a few buildings at a time.

The elevator's swirling engines died, and the automatic door opened. The clicks of shoes were the only clue that someone arrived followed closely by a thin smell of peach and roses. The individual touched his shoulder. "So, you too?" He gaped at the source of the soft sweet voice to find a woman leaning on the wall. She looked like a high school brat in a blue dress, with red hair, and sugary brown eyes. Her face had that youthful energy that was amplified by her dimples and raw tan.

She peeked at him and revealed to be the company card his co-worker had given him.

"Not really...," he conceded and focused back on the sharp circle markings of the sky-blue metallic automatic doors. The need to get out expanded in his heart and his hands began to slightly clench in the tension.

"Really? Well, nice to meet you. My name is Roda." Even her voice was high pitched with energy, as she showed him a downturned hand. He ignored protocol and leaned on the wall too.

"Nice...to meet you, Roda. My name is Eugine. And no. I'm not leaving to work there. It was an...invitation...from a friend." He gazed into her soft eyes and saw her slight smile. "Nice. You are not one to follow protocol. Are you by any chance from Mest?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You don't have to hide it. You are no doubt one of those big brain suck-ups. No offense, I believe I heard your name quite a few times."

It didn't shock him. The whole building had come to detest him because of how sloppily he did his job. He always wondered how he had earned the position in the first place.

"I can assure you. Being high in demand is the best thing in this industry a-," the elevator cut her off as it reached its destination. The door whizzed opened to reveal a tidy reception with mantled desks holding plates of bundled food, and Bluemountain drinks. "...Well, see you at the new department, Eugenie. Call me." She slid a neat piece of paper in his jacket and walked out.

He could feel the quickening beatings of his heart as he stared at her leaving back, and so he closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. "Peach..." He extended his hand to stop the doors from closing.

"Roda..." He said her name in wonder as he began striding in the tidy reception hall towards the final obstacle between him, and his dream. The large wooden door of the building.

He had to do something first he thought as he glanced at reception. Organizing papers, an auburn-haired beauty wrapped in a polkadots butter sleeve with full cheeks, and a small jaw accentuating her smooth skin, wrapped up for the day. She was about to leave until she saw him

The receptionist waved at him with a smile and he waved back. "I will miss you, you know…who will bring me flowers and ask me out on dates?" She said with her smile eclipsed by her downturned eyes.

"Hahahaha. It's not I'm going to war, Leila.'' He stepped towards her. "Here, something to remember me by," he brought out a heap of papers out of his little box. "Really?" Her eyes fluttered and a lazy smile began to form on her face.

"Just kiddin."

"You meany!" She did her cute pout and crossed her arms below her chest. He smirked at her and rather put the picture of his hamster on her table. "Oh, Meraud. Are you sure I can have this?"

"No," he admitted, "but I wouldn't want anyone else to have it. I love you leily and someday I will come back for you."

"Oh, you Romeo." Leily hrabbed the picture and hugged him. "Please be safe, and stay true to yourself bubby."

"Always." They parted, and eventually he felt the courage to stand in front of fate. With fear in his heart, he puffed out his chest and strode forwards with purpose. Only when he finally stepped outside the threshold of his home, his work, his life, did he feel…(free.)

He stood in a lively street. Groups of tourists walked around jointly. Students took off to their floating schools as parents saw them off to what would be their life. Traveling businessmen and businesswomen roamed in the huge square in search of the new big thing. Fashion devotees waddled from store to store to gain inspiration for the next trend.

He put his office box on the floor in a way of declaring independence. He counted his gainings of the month, 300,000 stets he concluded. More than plenty stets for his journey.

A small blue car sat on the other side of the road he just had to walk to it, but he chose to carry on in the opposite direction. "To new horizons…," he uttered and decided to step into the outskirts of the next sector of the country.

He was where the retail district met the lodging district, and a few blocks away from the correctional coalition. He was currently walking into the retail district where the sight of tremendous stores and skyscrapers was the norm. What made this sector unique was its famous technological advances that filled tourists with a sense of awe.

He passed below great bridges of rare metals with tubes of insulated gold attached to their undersides and entering into the sides of all nearby buildings. Robits worked in the structural care of the bridges, and inside the numerous shops that prospered in the shade of the bridge.

A few famous robits were doing live concerts with the cream of the city enclosing them. The elite covered themselves in luxury, and the finest of innovations, cheering with their small families at the swaying robits.

He peeked at the odd sun nearly totally gulped by the darkness, but battling in defiance to give the world some of its sunlight.



[Hi, what is your name?]

...

He heard the feminine words, but they were not the typical ones. It was practically as if he had imagined them.

"Who's asking?" He glanced around and stared at the gorgeous women walking their pets or boyfriends, (not that the world noticed the difference,) some were alone on their phones; waiting for their pets. None of these women were looking at him, or asking for his name.

Maybe, the voice was his imagination...

He began walking among the throng again. (It's awfully crowded today,) he thought a bit annoyed at the tightening streets.

Somebody unawares crashed into him. "Sorry, sir." The old man outfitted in an assortment of ragged clothes, and holding the edge of his hat mumbled, and promptly walked away.

It would have been crazy if he had been robbed. Had he been robbed? He rubbed his left pocket and felt out his stets.

No. He was good.



[What is your name?]



He looked around again for the mysterious woman. Looking out for someone to give any indication that they heard the voice too. (Had his sudden actions made him insane?) He reckoned but then the people around him commenced to look around in alarm.

"Did someone hear that?" A kid donning a valuable fur asked. "Who asked for my name!?" A man with glossy black hair and dressed only in slacks shouted. This precise phenomenon transpired all around the sector, and was quickly the standard, as the square was crammed with the accumulated cacophony of the voices rising from the crowd.

"STOP FUCKING ASKING FOR MY NAME!" A screech cut into the cacophony but was rapidly swallowed by a heightening racquet.

The singing robit acting as the main entertainer of the square began to squeal in agony and stumbled down the stage. This captured the attention of a few people as the one's around him gasped, and hurried over in a jog towards the stage of the fallen robit.

The particular robit, famously known for being modified to look like a gorgeous woman with flowing locks of golden hair, and voluptuous curves. Reminded him of those famous Japanese singers high school girls went crazy for. (He had seen a picture of such a particular band in an old folder when he was in middle school, but this particular robit had more meat.)

He hurried over too as he recalled his niece liked this specific robit before she had taken off to the red planet.

"Bey Clauuuddeee!!!" A large crowd of fans blurted as they sobbed on the shoulders of their families. Encircled by the respectful crowd, the entrails of the robit sat as a crumple of steel, carbon fiberglass, and a combination of an unknown liquid suspension over soft rubber specially designed to make the body of the robit have the springy feeling of a woman.

Newcomers arrived as the news spread and were soon weeping alongside the others as they kneeled on the ground in fear. Whoever had done this was surely on the loose, and taking the lifes of the robits in the sector just like when the robits had become the world's symbol of peace.



[Ǫ̴̮̻͈̙̠̳͓̱̆͐̆̀͊̈̆̂̎͛͑̈̃̐̽̍̑̈̓̒̆͗͘͘͜ ̵̢̧̨͈̖̙͎̮͔͕̮̀ǵ̷͖̘̝̜̮̲̳̦͓̖̟̳̉̔̃͂̃̏̈͑̔́̀́̑͌̍͊̃͛͛͂̚̕͠͝h̸͉̼̄̓̿̽̆̄͑͑̌͆̉̃̀͗́͒̆̄̊̔́̃̒̎̑͌̕͠͝o̷̝̘̱̱̼̅ḡ̸̢͓̺̘͐̄̈́̿͑͊̀͊̓̚͝͝͝ͅh̶̨̪̝̬̙̜͔̝͖̰̞̺̝͇͚͎̳͔̻̤̲̬̹͈͙̲̖̣̟̼̓̈́̉̔͑̋̌́̃̒̅͊̅͌̇̈́̽͌͗̽͂̿̏̎̂̕͘̚͜͝͠d̴̻̟̗̟̥̹̩̗̻̰̳̤̘̝̱̑͜ͅo̵̧̫̗͎̖̞̘͔̯͓̫̳̹̺͈̺͊̃͋̎̅̏̄̓̋̎͊̐̏̉̏͌̆̐͒͌̋̍̈́͑̀̍̈́͌̎̽͘̚͜͠ř̶̨̩̟̥͈̯̪̼̥̫͙̜̩̬̣̔̉͆́̍̿͛͒̿́̆̍̈́̐́̑̐͘͜ ̶̡̢̨̧̡̧̛̟̣͖̝̼̜̯͓̲̞͈̺̝̝̞̝̯̖͖̬͎̗́̅̈̏͛̔́̀͂̈̕͘͜͜͝͝͝k̵̢̝͇̬̱͔̫̲͓͉͔̺̼̼̃̏͋́̇̀̊̊̓̅͋̈̇̓̓̇̀͆̓̊̎̄̆̓̆̓͊̆̕͘̚͝͠͝ĭ̵͉͚͔̤̩̿͗̌̍̏̈͗͂̈́͊̆̓͆͂͊̌̽́̓̏͊̉̋̕͝ͅȟ̴̨̡̨̘̜͔͕͚̙̹̙̲̰̪̰̘̲͉͚͚̀̈́̿̃̐̿̏̇͗̓́͆̃̓̄̂̾̂̑͌̏͑̎̂̉̆͜ ̷̬́͐̈̊̾̈̅́̅̇̐̚͘͝͠͠ǹ̶̠̤̟̼̤̜͖̟͍͈̜͕̪̖͙̱̝̳̻ͅî̷̥̥͉̰̖̩͖͇̩̙̫͈̰͉͖̲̝̝̣̖͜ͅh̷̢͙̺̮͙̰̜̯̯͈̾͊͋̔̈́…̴̢̧̛̗͈̦͙̮͙̯̮̫̤͔̘̰̭̜͔̹̥͈͉̯͕̫̲̱̥̬͔͈̥̜̃̌̽͊̉̾́̐̎͂̑̄̎̿̊͑̐̀̌̿̈̏̕̕̕͜͝͠͝
̶̬̺̠̣̩̣̪̣͚̱͕̰̩̟̞͚̆̈̽̓̀̓́̇͒̿͊̿̈́̋͒͆̅̃͑̇̈́̓͑̏̚ͅ
̴̡̢̛̯̰̣̝̻̘̼͔̥̝͍̆̓̅̓̈́͑̊̿̉̆̌͛̌͆̓̅͑͆͜ͅͅN̸̨̧̻͓͙͔̱̬͕͍̞̝͉̲̘̼͔̻̍͐́̈́͆̌͊̈́́̚̕͝ǘ̶̡̨̳̠̹̣̰̙͕̳̮͙̾́̋̈̾͋͑͘͝͝ļ̵̷̢̛̭̟̗͖̭̝̣̝͇̠̃̋̀̋̑͒͂̊̾͑͐̅͋̚̕ͅ...complete.]



[Implementing the system.]

[OPENING THE FIRST CIRCLET.]

[...Identifying restrictive system. ]

[...Identifying game system.]

(What the fuck is this?)

[...Identifying host…]



[Animal classification.]







[Retrieving the system.]



Kill them all. Leave no one alive.

(Wait, what???)

The impression of hurling his stomach out began dissipating through his body, and then the pressure built, and the more it built...the faster a wave of liquid fury expanded in his veins. The energy injected blasts of imperial superiority in his head; bloating his frame to the moment he felt his bones would shoot out of his body but then a parasitic emptiness coiled around the supremacy and devoured it all. Not an inkling of havoc was left in his body, as a refreshing gust of peace spread in him.

A shove jerked him from his half wakefulness state as a petite girl in a sundress scrambled weakly to her feet. She looked at him with a tremble in her lips and locked her gaze at something in his left. He glanced down at what she was looking at.

Red claws with sharp black tips formed over his normal nails as the head of his fingers started glowing slightly. Strange veins superimposed themselves on his palm; Inky, viny veins that spread slowly into his forearms and twisted like snakes until they covered the full length of his arm.

"HELP!" The girl shouted meekly but noisy enough, for the people around the two to train their eyes on him. "Please, don't say it," he uttered and began leaning back as he saw no mercy in her eyes.

"Monster." The moment he heard the word, he instinctively began to run away. (Fucking bitch!) He could clarify that no harm had been done but he was not dumb...who would believe him? The sector would gladly kill him for no reason!

(Laws! Fucking doctrines of the globe! At Least give me a damned trail!)

Generally, cameras or bystanders would be used to prove the integrityof the cursed word, but how could he expect a camera to survive? Whatever killed the robits in the area had appeared fast and swift.

All robits were constructed to resist army level bombs, so something like an EMP required to be inside the machine to destroy it because of the skin like material designed for the war on Bargast. It actually frightened him that the local siren hadn't blasted, as they had been designed for this specific situation but now proved themselves useless.

A few people were already on his tail. He could hear them stumble and push people out of their way as he sprinted back to his workplace.

But what irony...he had left the place to be young and free. Now, he was running back like a little bitch. The public wailed like rabid animals and scooted away from various flashes of blue lights blooming among the crowds. The glowing gloves at least illuminated his surroundings as he ran by.

Turning over to a descending intersection, he could see the wooden entrance to his old workplace in sight and passed through the sliding doors. Quickly, he began looking around the reception for any signs of Leila, and thankfully her friend was not here as the picture frame he had given her was gone.

"DON'T FUCKING FOLLOW ME, HE IS MINE." He heard behind the closed foor and hastily twisted to the interior of the scanners at the flank of the automatic door. He nearly toppled over his hidding place because of the loud beeping sound of the metal detectors. In a second, what seemed like a hoard of people, troded inside the reception room.

"FUCK YOU COCK SUCKER. I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO DO. HE IS MINE!" Said a man.

"THE VOID LIGHT SWORD WILL RULE THE WORLD." Said another man.

"SHUT UP REN! HURRY UP OR THEY WILL TAKE HIM!" A girl shouted.

"LET ME IN!" He heard the groans of a girl.

Luckily, these scanners were corner built and perfect for a person to lie low inside. He certainly didn't have the balls to sneak around the place in the presence of this arguing crowd, and silently scrambled for ideas to get out of this mess. His tailers in turns kept on screaming at each other.

"FUCKING STOP THAT FUCKING JOCK! WE CAN'T LET SOMEONE LIKE HIM BECOME THE MAIN CHARACTER." The heavy voice of a man shouted out.

Keeping himself close to the ground, he scanned for a vent or something he could safely hide inside.

"THE MAIN CHARACTER? THE FUCK IS YOU TALKING ABOOUT FAT BASTARD!" The snappy sound of a woman's voice screamed.

(There must be something here to distract them.) He began touching around the floor for something, anything.

"SHUT UP!" The man with the thick voice screamed.

He could hear them turning the tables over with the plates of food. In search of him. "IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL GET OUT OF THE WAY OF THE FUTURE RULE-" The next moment he heard a nearby desk crack in two, followed by a single unevenly high moan of pain.

"MOTHER FUCKER, GET THE HELL OFF ME MAN!" A boy with a high-pitched voice howled.

"I KNEW IT, YOU ARE A VILLAIN! STUPID NERD FUCK!" The deep voice of a man dripping with piety growled.

He kept scurrying for ideas but his mind refused to focus on anything that was not his irritated muscles. The mutation of his hand had to be connected to the voice. What were those glares of light? If that voice had promised these people something was that the reason they were…

"LISTEN UP NUMBSKULLS! I WILL KILL HIM! WHOEVER DOES NOT LIKE THAT, I WILL RIP THEIR HEADS OFF! YOU HEAR ME!"

His heart began to beat fast as fuck, as the realization dawned on him.

They are not trying to kill him. They are going to kill him!

All those who had entered this building after him knew that they would murder him. IT HAD TO BE...no wonder they were so eager to find him.

Maybe he could escape, and ask for the protection of the cops, but would he risk his life on a hunch? Would he follow the spoken word that everyone in the correctional coalition had morality?

He had to work with what he had but he wouldn't hurt anyone. Dragging somebody else in this mess would go against all he stood for!



He had to do something, and it had to be soon.
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