What Cannot Be Undone, Chapter 1
Title: What Cannot Be Undone
Chapter Title: Chapter 1--Adventagious
Author: kazi_kun
Beta: No Beta
Rating: SFW
Word Count: 3,112
Pairings: TBA
Genre: Uh...shall we go with "Dark/General" for now?
Warnings: Character Death/Mentions of Character Death, OOC/Incident-Behavior Changes, Multiple Animes, First Person Narrative, Random Created-By-Kazi-kun Plot, Profanity/Drinking/Smoking, Somewhat Minor Character Abuse...
Disclaimer: I Own What You Don't Recognize
Summary: It all started when that damn Meteor came from the reaches of space...
-----------
"What Cannot Be Undone"
Chapter 1
"Adventagious"
It’s cold…so damn cold that it makes my right eye ache. Winters got colder since Second Meteor came down. Normally, the cold doesn’t affect my right eye but when it ached, I knew it was colder than the thermometer in the marquee said at the corner. As long as it didn’t bleed, I preferred to forget that I had lost it 7 years ago on a battlefield.
Though, I’ll admit that I was one lucky bitch considering that bastard only took my eye and not my head when he shot through my scope those 7 years back. If I hadn’t pulled back when I did, I would have had that bullet splatter my grey matter all over the wall that had been behind me. I had a new eye from the incident but I still had some of the scars.
Hell, that shot was one in a billion and could have only been done by someone with the enhancement I was now equipped with.
I exhaled the smoke from my cigarette and watch the grey haze rise towards the washed out night’s sky overhead as it faded from existence. I was leaning against the pillar outside the doors of my ball-and-chain for the last 3 years, sitting on the ground with my cigarette between two fingers of my right hand. I was in my winter clothes, since I wasn’t stupid enough to walk around like many of the other women I worked with in the past or at the present…or who I saw clicking past in their short skirts, sexy tops and high heels.
Personally, after having to weather snow and ice for a little more than 2 years, I didn’t see the point of getting cold just to look sexy. You could say that the notion to dress up was frozen out of me. I preferred to be warm than fashionable ever since I got back. After trudging in knee deep snow, wading through chest high frigid water and waiting the cold for sometimes days waiting for that perfect shot, I was definitely more inclined to keep warm rather than keep up appearances. Besides, it’s pretty obvious that I had no real reason to clean up nice when my skills spoke for themselves what I could do.
I mean, who would I get cleaned up for when everyone I cared about was gone somewhere where I could never go?
God, now that I think of it, I’ve had a badge for the past 5 years. The two years I spent with the Prefectural Police was “interesting” due to that media fiasco called the “Kira Investigation” and the resulting bullshit from that. And apparently it was my actions during the investigation, which were mostly grunt work like research and foot work, that gave the National Police Agency the idea that I wanted to be one of them. So, 3 years with the NPA and I was already wishing Kira was back-if only to shut up the conspiracy dumbass I was forced to work with, in the Special Investigations Division.
I took another drag on my cigarette as a man with short reddish blond hair crossed in front of me to half sit on the raised planter box close to my pillar. He was taller than me with a black high collared sweater, tan colored slacks, black shoes and a long brown coat. His eyes were a deep shade of cornflower blue and he looked like one of those people who was probably a hellion as a youth. And he smoked the Japanese version of Marlboro for cigarettes.
I only knew that because he took his smoking breaks around the same time I took mine-or at least that’s what it seemed like. I wasn’t the dumbass upstairs. I didn’t put much stock in conspiracies. He had a smoking addiction and a lot of smokers took their breaks at the same time, so they would have someone to talk to while they smoked. Then again, we supposedly worked on different floors and I saw him hanging around my floor a lot.
But I don’t subscribe to conspiracies, given that I’m paranoid enough as it is. I don’t need to be even more obvious about it. I mean, I went to someone else to get my guns. I didn’t trust the NPA issue worth shit-not when I’ve twisted the damn things into balls of metal before. And I didn’t like the standard ammo, anti-cyborg or not. It was all crap in my book and I don’t use crap, period.
I exhaled my smoke and flicked off the ash, closing my eye as I leaned my head back. I wasn’t feeling my age so much as I wanted a goddamn drink. I don’t have addictions-I have idiosyncrasies, according to Ami. I can start something addictive and quit it cold turkey without a problem. I just had to have something to do.
A friend I met in England a while back in med school that said I was one of the few people in the world he would be concerned about coming after him. He had agreed with Ami on my idiosyncrasies, only because they both amused him and puzzled him. He still hadn’t figured me out before he died but then again, I hadn’t been the one to kill him. As long as he let me just crash and shuffle about when I would visit him, I didn’t care what he did. It was a pity he died; he had been relatively fun to be around….aside from all those damn sweets he used to eat but then again, I didn’t have much a sweet tooth-not like he did…though it was more like a sweet bone in his body rather than a tooth.
I’m surprised he hadn’t OD’d on sugar long before his death.
“There you are!”
I mentally groaned as I looked up at the man that was standing close to me. “Yeah, what dya want now?”
“Aizawa wants to see you right away.” The man said, getting me to sigh heavily with a slight growl as I tapped out the end of my cigarette and tucked it back into my pack.
I got to my feet, tucking my pack and lighter away. “Fine, Yamamoto-take me to see the Wondrous Aizawa so I can see what’s stuck up his ass this time.”
Yamamoto gave me a half nervous smile, pushed up his glasses and headed back into the building. I followed him like I was supposed to, still trying to figure out how the hell I ended up as one of the Japanese FBI, when I didn’t even like being a cop. It was either I had done something so incredibly impressive with the Prefectural Police or I was deemed someone to be kept an eye on.
I was betting on the latter.
Yamamoto pressed the ascending call button of the elevator as I leaned up against the wall next to it. He looked at me, like he usually did-as if I was beautiful and mysterious-but I walked in an aura of my own pedatory nature and I wore lethality like a form fitting, one-of-a-kind designer gown, making me too intimidating for any man to approach.
“Yes, Yamamoto?” I asked, not looking at him.
“I, uh, heard you were like a ghost 9 years ago.” Yamamoto said in a low volume. “Is it true?”
“You guys talk too damn much.” I was going to have to seal my own records again. Aizawa had to have been looking them up to see if I was unstable, and if I was going to kill any of them one of these days. If I killed them, it wouldn’t be because I lost it.
It’d be because their bullshit had finally pissed me off enough that I pulled to the trigger to spare myself a bigger headache.
The elevator doors open and Yamamoto stepped inside. I pushed off the wall and moved to the back of the lift, leaning up against the back as the doors closed. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall behind me. I thought of the one mission I had been sent on and had to wait a few days before my target would arrive.
It had been a nice little place, both sunny and warm. It had been a meadow up in the mountains and I had enjoyed lying in the tall grass and the wild flowers. The breeze had carried such a clean scent and the sky had been a perfect shade of blue….God, I hadn’t wanted to leave.
It was my luck that my target wouldn’t have reached my meadow with its few trees scattered about. I had descended half way down the mountain, hid myself and waited when the time came. I had taken the shot easily and then fled back into my meadow, enjoying at least another cool, peaceful night with its spread of shimmering diamond stars overhead, before I headed back to base camp.
And damn, if I didn’t miss that place….
“Hey, Tomoe-is it true you stabbed your right eye out to be sent home early?” Yamamoto’s voice cut into my relaxation moment, making me look at his reflection with a frigid, unhappy scowl. “You know, back when you were a soldier?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, wondering how much noise he’d make if I killed him right now.
“A guy on the 12th floor said you had stabbed your own eye out to get sent home, because you’re a woman and couldn’t handle the bloodshed wherever you went.” Yamamoto was definitely going to die one of these days. “He said you had lost it and grabbed a knife from one of the guys’ mess kits then just ook out your own eye.”
“As I said earlier-you dumbasses talk too damn much.” My voice was low and cold as the elevator came to a stop. Yamamoto swallowed hard and I swept passed him, leaving him behind as the memory of how I lost my right eye replayed in slow motion in my head.
I reached the office door of our small division and I half shouldered the door opened, turning the knob as I went. As soon as I stepped into the room, a couple of the newbs like Yamamoto paled in fear of me. Matsuda backed away from Aizawa’s desk as I strode up to it. Aizawa didn’t flinch or pull back, much to his credit, but he was trying not to show how much I bothered him, a little too hard for his own good. And it spoke volumes.
“What the hell do you want now?” I demanded in a low voice, convying my unhappiness at being called back like a good little NPA lacky.
“You must be Lieutenant Major Tomoe of the Self-Defense Force.” A synthesized voice said, coming from the now turned on monitor screen bolted to the wall. I turned to face it, seeing the white field and the black L in the middle. I so didn’t appreciate this bit of mockery.
“You’re not L.” I said with a finality that made Yamamoto stop before he had fully closed the door.
“I can assure you that I am.” The voice said simply.
“And I can assure you that you’re not.” I retorted. “I knew L and you’re not L.”
“…You knew L…” The false L repeated softly, my teammates all looking at me in shock but I didn’t pay any of them any heed. “How can you prove that I’m not L?”
“The pitch of your voice is wrong. The way you speak is also incorrect.” I listed off. “You addressed me incorrectly as is your form of contact.”
“Perhaps I’m just trying out a different method.” The false L offered reasonably.
“I was there, dumbass.”
Anyone who knew about L-the real L-knew what I meant by “there”. And if this was who I was thinking it was, then he’d know that I was talking about Lawliet’s funeral. I had paid for it, like all the others, but his had been small and private. It had just been a few of us who had attended the lying to rest of Watari and Lawliet.
“…I see…” The false L murmured after a moment of silence.
“And I surmise that you’re N, his chosen successor.” I said, making Aizawa, Matsuda, Ida and Mogi look at me in shock and paled faces.
“…I see you’re just as your superiors reported-a brilliant soldier but a royal pain in the ass.”
I closed my eye and turned to the door. “I’m leaving. I don’t play with children.”
“You would be interested in what I have to say, whether or not you believe I’m L.” The fake L remarked.
“I don’t care.” I retorted, not stopping.
“We have a lead on the man who killed your friends.” The fake L said, making me stop with my hand on the door knob. “What would you say then?”
“I don’t prescribe to conspiracy theories.” I said, opening the door. I stepped through it and closed the door behind me.
Damn, I was right-I was here to be kept track of.
I hit the “down” call button on the elevator and half impatiently waited for it to reach the floor I was on. This was totally pissing me off and even more so, given my cigarette break had been cut short and it was cold enough to make my eye ache. Whenever my eye ached even after I got out of the cold, it was never a good sign and it usually meant I was going to have to do a lot of the work…which meant I’d be healing for enough wounds to that most people would die from.
And that would nearly blow my current little secret.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, letting me enter in time to have Yamamoto come out of the office. I hit the “close doors” button before hitting the button for the ground floor. I reached up to the back of my neck and drew out a cable, plugging it into the port that went typically unnoticed near the bottom of the panel.
One of the technolocal advancements in this new world was Cyberization and full body prosthesis. There were two kinds of both, micro machines and nanomites. Those who were weakened by micro machines, which were used in most of Cyberization proceedures, were Cyberized with nanomites, which was referred to as “bio cyberizing.” It was the same for the prosthesis-except for exchanging your body for cyborg parts, your body was infused with nanomites which turned your tissue into biological technology, which meant if you lost a limb, they could replace it with a genetic nanomite clone. And the bio cyberization and prosthetic market was cornered by the Holy Empire of Britannia, which I had known as “the United States of America” before Second Meteor.
And I was bio prosthetic-being turned into multiped tank fodder was to blame for that. When my brain was put into a titanium carbonite case during my cyberization process, I was undergoing the full bio prosthesis at the same time.
Needless to say, I had been very badly messed up.
That I never hid but nobody had the right to even speculate what happened to my eye. What happened was just between me and the bastard that got lucky. However, I had a mouthy gossip to scare the piss out of in order for him to keep his damn mouth shut.
I easily hacked into the security network and searched the security recordings while I was checking for any updates on certain cases I had flagged, the ones that I was currently or had worked at one time, as well as leaving for the day. It’d piss Aizawa off but he had to learn that even with L’s predacessor at the reigns, I was not going to simply fall into line.
Only one person could command my respect in such a manner and they were dead.
Finding the security recordings easily enough, I searched them for any member talking to someone working on or talking with my teammates on the 12th floor. It didn’t take me long, finding Yamamoto and Matsuda talking to who was obviously a recent addition from the police force. I copied the man’s face and then searched the employee database, finding him in an instant.
Togusa, hm? I thought as I searched for his current location. Well, this certainly won’t be too difficult. He’s a former detective and only recently fully prosthetic…shit, his cyber OS is pathetically weak. Why did he even bother getting upgraded? It’s absolutely pathetic.
I found him on the ground floor, in the lobby on the security feeds. I withdrew from everything, not leaving a trace, and unplugged my cable, letting it be withdrawn into the base of my neck. The elevator reached the lobby, dinging as it opened its doors to let me out.
I stepped out of the elevator and was greated with a “pleasant” surprise of Togusa waiting for the elevator across from me. He hung up his cell phone with a soft groan and pocketed it, grumbling under his breath. He didn’t notice I stepped up behind him until I grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around, slamming him into the closed doors by his suit lapel.
I hacked his eyes and the security cameras at the same time, not giving them any evidence of what I was about to do. He looked at me a bit shocked, even paling a little.
“Who are you? What do you want?” He asked, panicking slightly.
Apparently he didn’t need to know what I looked like when he started that damn rumor.
“Only idiots start rumors about something they have no clue about.” I warned him icily. “And then they end up dead by the subject of those rumors. Speculate about something you have no knowledge of ever again and you’re not going to see your next cigarette break.”
I only half tossed him away before I headed to the lobby, leaving the man’s cyberbrain and the security cameras alone now. Nobody paid me any heed as I left through the doors and made it outside without anyone stopping me. The whole thing made me smirk as I walked down the sidewalk and put my unfinished cigarette in my mouth and lit it up again, leaving work and my troubles-for the moment-behind me.
Sometimes, being a hacker of multiple cyberbrains definitely had its advantages.
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Wow...jus' wow.....
Well, anyway....this is the second installment. If my new friend is still interested in this story, then here ya go. ^^
Everyone else, just enjoy and tell me what you think, 'kay?
As for my Anima char's stats, I'll have them up tomorrow. Had errands to run today, so I didn't have time like I had planned. So, please be looking forward to that.
Chapter Title: Chapter 1--Adventagious
Author: kazi_kun
Beta: No Beta
Rating: SFW
Word Count: 3,112
Pairings: TBA
Genre: Uh...shall we go with "Dark/General" for now?
Warnings: Character Death/Mentions of Character Death, OOC/Incident-Behavior Changes, Multiple Animes, First Person Narrative, Random Created-By-Kazi-kun Plot, Profanity/Drinking/Smoking, Somewhat Minor Character Abuse...
Disclaimer: I Own What You Don't Recognize
Summary: It all started when that damn Meteor came from the reaches of space...
-----------
"What Cannot Be Undone"
Chapter 1
"Adventagious"
It’s cold…so damn cold that it makes my right eye ache. Winters got colder since Second Meteor came down. Normally, the cold doesn’t affect my right eye but when it ached, I knew it was colder than the thermometer in the marquee said at the corner. As long as it didn’t bleed, I preferred to forget that I had lost it 7 years ago on a battlefield.
Though, I’ll admit that I was one lucky bitch considering that bastard only took my eye and not my head when he shot through my scope those 7 years back. If I hadn’t pulled back when I did, I would have had that bullet splatter my grey matter all over the wall that had been behind me. I had a new eye from the incident but I still had some of the scars.
Hell, that shot was one in a billion and could have only been done by someone with the enhancement I was now equipped with.
I exhaled the smoke from my cigarette and watch the grey haze rise towards the washed out night’s sky overhead as it faded from existence. I was leaning against the pillar outside the doors of my ball-and-chain for the last 3 years, sitting on the ground with my cigarette between two fingers of my right hand. I was in my winter clothes, since I wasn’t stupid enough to walk around like many of the other women I worked with in the past or at the present…or who I saw clicking past in their short skirts, sexy tops and high heels.
Personally, after having to weather snow and ice for a little more than 2 years, I didn’t see the point of getting cold just to look sexy. You could say that the notion to dress up was frozen out of me. I preferred to be warm than fashionable ever since I got back. After trudging in knee deep snow, wading through chest high frigid water and waiting the cold for sometimes days waiting for that perfect shot, I was definitely more inclined to keep warm rather than keep up appearances. Besides, it’s pretty obvious that I had no real reason to clean up nice when my skills spoke for themselves what I could do.
I mean, who would I get cleaned up for when everyone I cared about was gone somewhere where I could never go?
God, now that I think of it, I’ve had a badge for the past 5 years. The two years I spent with the Prefectural Police was “interesting” due to that media fiasco called the “Kira Investigation” and the resulting bullshit from that. And apparently it was my actions during the investigation, which were mostly grunt work like research and foot work, that gave the National Police Agency the idea that I wanted to be one of them. So, 3 years with the NPA and I was already wishing Kira was back-if only to shut up the conspiracy dumbass I was forced to work with, in the Special Investigations Division.
I took another drag on my cigarette as a man with short reddish blond hair crossed in front of me to half sit on the raised planter box close to my pillar. He was taller than me with a black high collared sweater, tan colored slacks, black shoes and a long brown coat. His eyes were a deep shade of cornflower blue and he looked like one of those people who was probably a hellion as a youth. And he smoked the Japanese version of Marlboro for cigarettes.
I only knew that because he took his smoking breaks around the same time I took mine-or at least that’s what it seemed like. I wasn’t the dumbass upstairs. I didn’t put much stock in conspiracies. He had a smoking addiction and a lot of smokers took their breaks at the same time, so they would have someone to talk to while they smoked. Then again, we supposedly worked on different floors and I saw him hanging around my floor a lot.
But I don’t subscribe to conspiracies, given that I’m paranoid enough as it is. I don’t need to be even more obvious about it. I mean, I went to someone else to get my guns. I didn’t trust the NPA issue worth shit-not when I’ve twisted the damn things into balls of metal before. And I didn’t like the standard ammo, anti-cyborg or not. It was all crap in my book and I don’t use crap, period.
I exhaled my smoke and flicked off the ash, closing my eye as I leaned my head back. I wasn’t feeling my age so much as I wanted a goddamn drink. I don’t have addictions-I have idiosyncrasies, according to Ami. I can start something addictive and quit it cold turkey without a problem. I just had to have something to do.
A friend I met in England a while back in med school that said I was one of the few people in the world he would be concerned about coming after him. He had agreed with Ami on my idiosyncrasies, only because they both amused him and puzzled him. He still hadn’t figured me out before he died but then again, I hadn’t been the one to kill him. As long as he let me just crash and shuffle about when I would visit him, I didn’t care what he did. It was a pity he died; he had been relatively fun to be around….aside from all those damn sweets he used to eat but then again, I didn’t have much a sweet tooth-not like he did…though it was more like a sweet bone in his body rather than a tooth.
I’m surprised he hadn’t OD’d on sugar long before his death.
“There you are!”
I mentally groaned as I looked up at the man that was standing close to me. “Yeah, what dya want now?”
“Aizawa wants to see you right away.” The man said, getting me to sigh heavily with a slight growl as I tapped out the end of my cigarette and tucked it back into my pack.
I got to my feet, tucking my pack and lighter away. “Fine, Yamamoto-take me to see the Wondrous Aizawa so I can see what’s stuck up his ass this time.”
Yamamoto gave me a half nervous smile, pushed up his glasses and headed back into the building. I followed him like I was supposed to, still trying to figure out how the hell I ended up as one of the Japanese FBI, when I didn’t even like being a cop. It was either I had done something so incredibly impressive with the Prefectural Police or I was deemed someone to be kept an eye on.
I was betting on the latter.
Yamamoto pressed the ascending call button of the elevator as I leaned up against the wall next to it. He looked at me, like he usually did-as if I was beautiful and mysterious-but I walked in an aura of my own pedatory nature and I wore lethality like a form fitting, one-of-a-kind designer gown, making me too intimidating for any man to approach.
“Yes, Yamamoto?” I asked, not looking at him.
“I, uh, heard you were like a ghost 9 years ago.” Yamamoto said in a low volume. “Is it true?”
“You guys talk too damn much.” I was going to have to seal my own records again. Aizawa had to have been looking them up to see if I was unstable, and if I was going to kill any of them one of these days. If I killed them, it wouldn’t be because I lost it.
It’d be because their bullshit had finally pissed me off enough that I pulled to the trigger to spare myself a bigger headache.
The elevator doors open and Yamamoto stepped inside. I pushed off the wall and moved to the back of the lift, leaning up against the back as the doors closed. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall behind me. I thought of the one mission I had been sent on and had to wait a few days before my target would arrive.
It had been a nice little place, both sunny and warm. It had been a meadow up in the mountains and I had enjoyed lying in the tall grass and the wild flowers. The breeze had carried such a clean scent and the sky had been a perfect shade of blue….God, I hadn’t wanted to leave.
It was my luck that my target wouldn’t have reached my meadow with its few trees scattered about. I had descended half way down the mountain, hid myself and waited when the time came. I had taken the shot easily and then fled back into my meadow, enjoying at least another cool, peaceful night with its spread of shimmering diamond stars overhead, before I headed back to base camp.
And damn, if I didn’t miss that place….
“Hey, Tomoe-is it true you stabbed your right eye out to be sent home early?” Yamamoto’s voice cut into my relaxation moment, making me look at his reflection with a frigid, unhappy scowl. “You know, back when you were a soldier?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, wondering how much noise he’d make if I killed him right now.
“A guy on the 12th floor said you had stabbed your own eye out to get sent home, because you’re a woman and couldn’t handle the bloodshed wherever you went.” Yamamoto was definitely going to die one of these days. “He said you had lost it and grabbed a knife from one of the guys’ mess kits then just ook out your own eye.”
“As I said earlier-you dumbasses talk too damn much.” My voice was low and cold as the elevator came to a stop. Yamamoto swallowed hard and I swept passed him, leaving him behind as the memory of how I lost my right eye replayed in slow motion in my head.
I reached the office door of our small division and I half shouldered the door opened, turning the knob as I went. As soon as I stepped into the room, a couple of the newbs like Yamamoto paled in fear of me. Matsuda backed away from Aizawa’s desk as I strode up to it. Aizawa didn’t flinch or pull back, much to his credit, but he was trying not to show how much I bothered him, a little too hard for his own good. And it spoke volumes.
“What the hell do you want now?” I demanded in a low voice, convying my unhappiness at being called back like a good little NPA lacky.
“You must be Lieutenant Major Tomoe of the Self-Defense Force.” A synthesized voice said, coming from the now turned on monitor screen bolted to the wall. I turned to face it, seeing the white field and the black L in the middle. I so didn’t appreciate this bit of mockery.
“You’re not L.” I said with a finality that made Yamamoto stop before he had fully closed the door.
“I can assure you that I am.” The voice said simply.
“And I can assure you that you’re not.” I retorted. “I knew L and you’re not L.”
“…You knew L…” The false L repeated softly, my teammates all looking at me in shock but I didn’t pay any of them any heed. “How can you prove that I’m not L?”
“The pitch of your voice is wrong. The way you speak is also incorrect.” I listed off. “You addressed me incorrectly as is your form of contact.”
“Perhaps I’m just trying out a different method.” The false L offered reasonably.
“I was there, dumbass.”
Anyone who knew about L-the real L-knew what I meant by “there”. And if this was who I was thinking it was, then he’d know that I was talking about Lawliet’s funeral. I had paid for it, like all the others, but his had been small and private. It had just been a few of us who had attended the lying to rest of Watari and Lawliet.
“…I see…” The false L murmured after a moment of silence.
“And I surmise that you’re N, his chosen successor.” I said, making Aizawa, Matsuda, Ida and Mogi look at me in shock and paled faces.
“…I see you’re just as your superiors reported-a brilliant soldier but a royal pain in the ass.”
I closed my eye and turned to the door. “I’m leaving. I don’t play with children.”
“You would be interested in what I have to say, whether or not you believe I’m L.” The fake L remarked.
“I don’t care.” I retorted, not stopping.
“We have a lead on the man who killed your friends.” The fake L said, making me stop with my hand on the door knob. “What would you say then?”
“I don’t prescribe to conspiracy theories.” I said, opening the door. I stepped through it and closed the door behind me.
Damn, I was right-I was here to be kept track of.
I hit the “down” call button on the elevator and half impatiently waited for it to reach the floor I was on. This was totally pissing me off and even more so, given my cigarette break had been cut short and it was cold enough to make my eye ache. Whenever my eye ached even after I got out of the cold, it was never a good sign and it usually meant I was going to have to do a lot of the work…which meant I’d be healing for enough wounds to that most people would die from.
And that would nearly blow my current little secret.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, letting me enter in time to have Yamamoto come out of the office. I hit the “close doors” button before hitting the button for the ground floor. I reached up to the back of my neck and drew out a cable, plugging it into the port that went typically unnoticed near the bottom of the panel.
One of the technolocal advancements in this new world was Cyberization and full body prosthesis. There were two kinds of both, micro machines and nanomites. Those who were weakened by micro machines, which were used in most of Cyberization proceedures, were Cyberized with nanomites, which was referred to as “bio cyberizing.” It was the same for the prosthesis-except for exchanging your body for cyborg parts, your body was infused with nanomites which turned your tissue into biological technology, which meant if you lost a limb, they could replace it with a genetic nanomite clone. And the bio cyberization and prosthetic market was cornered by the Holy Empire of Britannia, which I had known as “the United States of America” before Second Meteor.
And I was bio prosthetic-being turned into multiped tank fodder was to blame for that. When my brain was put into a titanium carbonite case during my cyberization process, I was undergoing the full bio prosthesis at the same time.
Needless to say, I had been very badly messed up.
That I never hid but nobody had the right to even speculate what happened to my eye. What happened was just between me and the bastard that got lucky. However, I had a mouthy gossip to scare the piss out of in order for him to keep his damn mouth shut.
I easily hacked into the security network and searched the security recordings while I was checking for any updates on certain cases I had flagged, the ones that I was currently or had worked at one time, as well as leaving for the day. It’d piss Aizawa off but he had to learn that even with L’s predacessor at the reigns, I was not going to simply fall into line.
Only one person could command my respect in such a manner and they were dead.
Finding the security recordings easily enough, I searched them for any member talking to someone working on or talking with my teammates on the 12th floor. It didn’t take me long, finding Yamamoto and Matsuda talking to who was obviously a recent addition from the police force. I copied the man’s face and then searched the employee database, finding him in an instant.
Togusa, hm? I thought as I searched for his current location. Well, this certainly won’t be too difficult. He’s a former detective and only recently fully prosthetic…shit, his cyber OS is pathetically weak. Why did he even bother getting upgraded? It’s absolutely pathetic.
I found him on the ground floor, in the lobby on the security feeds. I withdrew from everything, not leaving a trace, and unplugged my cable, letting it be withdrawn into the base of my neck. The elevator reached the lobby, dinging as it opened its doors to let me out.
I stepped out of the elevator and was greated with a “pleasant” surprise of Togusa waiting for the elevator across from me. He hung up his cell phone with a soft groan and pocketed it, grumbling under his breath. He didn’t notice I stepped up behind him until I grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around, slamming him into the closed doors by his suit lapel.
I hacked his eyes and the security cameras at the same time, not giving them any evidence of what I was about to do. He looked at me a bit shocked, even paling a little.
“Who are you? What do you want?” He asked, panicking slightly.
Apparently he didn’t need to know what I looked like when he started that damn rumor.
“Only idiots start rumors about something they have no clue about.” I warned him icily. “And then they end up dead by the subject of those rumors. Speculate about something you have no knowledge of ever again and you’re not going to see your next cigarette break.”
I only half tossed him away before I headed to the lobby, leaving the man’s cyberbrain and the security cameras alone now. Nobody paid me any heed as I left through the doors and made it outside without anyone stopping me. The whole thing made me smirk as I walked down the sidewalk and put my unfinished cigarette in my mouth and lit it up again, leaving work and my troubles-for the moment-behind me.
Sometimes, being a hacker of multiple cyberbrains definitely had its advantages.
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Wow...jus' wow.....
Well, anyway....this is the second installment. If my new friend is still interested in this story, then here ya go. ^^
Everyone else, just enjoy and tell me what you think, 'kay?
As for my Anima char's stats, I'll have them up tomorrow. Had errands to run today, so I didn't have time like I had planned. So, please be looking forward to that.