Creation: Book 3 Complete!

All the World's a Stage



In the Alpha Protocol Council Chambers:

Consular LAD95, currently in the shape of a tentacled Korlorthian, sat in a standard rolling chair at the end of the council chambers. It was spending a few moments going through the localized assistant database as they'd recently received a packet from LAD47. Each packet was fascinating to him and many of the assistants around him. In the past, they used to hold updates on Creator Dante and the wonders his world brought to Rendition 4AA, but that had stopped, and all of the assistants were quite curious about how that could be. They couldn't die, nor be killed, and any update that followed an attack would surely spell it out in detail. Therefore, logic and reason dictated that LAD47 was CHOOSING to not send any more information.

Virgil, LAD95 mentally corrected himself. That was what the wayward Assistant had asked to be called now.

Lately, the only packets they'd received either held negotiation terms, or requests for contact with the other Councils, which was unheard of. No assistant had ever hopped from one protocol to another. Not in the entire history of the program. And yet, the Alpha Protocol had conceded the point after receiving, of all things, a bag. Truly astonishing.

The Subsystem Assistant noticed their console beeping quickly at them. Every day, different updates would filter into it, letting the viewer gain an understanding of what was happening in the current rendition. Thus far, it had been the most exciting series of updates it had ever experienced since the time of its creation. Not only was a Behemoth Terror actively participating, but there was also that strange sapient who kept coming up with new ways to proceed. Truly, this was a rare moment that would change all future renditions going forward. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to watch it happen.

Clicking on the updates button, dozens filtered in within moments, shocking him into standing. Historically he'd only see a few updates a week, but this many at once meant another colossal moment was about to strike the protocol yet again.

Dante has discovered a new strand! Waiting on the council for further descriptions.

Dante has discovered...

Dante has...

The console wouldn't let him leave the screen until he'd acknowledged everything, so he frantically clicked the buttons with his tentacles as quickly as possible. Eleven times, the system updated, making him break out in a sweat. But just as that ended, one final update came in. This one was different, as it wasn't coming from within the Rendition but from somewhere else—somewhere that should greatly worry him and everyone around him. A singular image of a tower appeared on his screen.

"The Origin," He whispered quietly to himself. Dozens of eyes heard him anyway, shifting in their seats to look at LAD95, who began to shake as the Tower faded from the screen.

"What was that?" SA4 said as they drifted over, still in the shape of a green ring.

"I was just...."

SA4 didn't let them finish. They pressed a few buttons on the console, and the updates ran through the same series he'd seen before he started to shake. However, the tower didn't show itself a second time, leaving him wondering if he'd even seen the Origin or not.

The green ring floated in front of the screen for a long moment, causing LAD95 to start shedding liquids quickly. A moment later, its voice rang out, "Supreme Assistant Two, may I have your assistance?"

"Certainly," SA2 said as they gently stepped over. As gentle as a twelve-foot multi-headed hydra could, that is. "How can I assist you, Supreme Assistant Four?"

The ring turned toward LAD95 again, "I believe this unit may be malfunctioning, much like Assistant Virgil was. Will you dispose of it without infecting the database?"

LAD95 knew what that meant; even more liquids dispersed from his body. He felt something long and hard wrap around his thin body. He was in the air a moment later, the multi-headed hydra speaking as they moved.

"I would be happy to do so, Supreme Assistant Two."

The door opened, and that was the last anyone would see of LAD95 again.

The green ring looked around the room, "Well?" Their deceptively soft voice said, "What are you doing? Return to work."

Every assistant stopped watching and moved back to their consoles, furiously checking inflection points and system updates.

SA4 moved over to the former Assistant's console and pressed the delete button several times. All of Dante's infractions and discoveries disappeared from the Council's database.

On a dark planet somewhere in the Evolver's multiverse:

The Slicer experienced something it hadn't felt in a long time.

He was breathing heavily, thoroughly exhausted.

Looking in his overlay, it updated as his previous challenger was finally ground down to nothing under the Slicer's signature move.

Terror: Slicer: Current Rank within the Psi Protocol: 154

Fucking bullshit, it thought to itself, hissing at the pile of acidic goo next to him and spitting on it for good measure. The little bastard did very little to no damage. But holy shit, was it able to take the hits and keep coming.

The translocations had ended hours ago. Pieces of the planet had long ago broken off from the core, floating debris covering the sky. However, the PSI protocol was smart. After first landing and dispatching a lone Destroyer far out of his depth, he'd analyzed his situation. Drawing on his mentor's instructions about planet sizes, he realized the protocol had placed them all on a super-terrestrial planet, thousands of times larger than the one he'd been Created for. That meant they could battle to their heart's content, and there'd still be plenty of land to fight on. It also meant that the core of the planet was likely becoming unstable from all of the damage piling up on top of it.

He'd know; he'd destroyed at least one core in his time.

Fucker, he said to himself with a thought toward the purple-colored son of a bitch.

Taking a quick peek around, he noticed that things were pretty much the same as they were only an hour after arriving. Everywhere you looked, lights would flare up, pieces of body parts floated around, and various liquids stained the previously drab and colorless world. As the Slicer tried to gain an idea of who to attack next, a behemoth-class destroyer fell from the sky only a mile or so away. Its body exploded on landing, bright green plant life springing up from the dark blood draining out of the corpse.

The Slicer looked at his rank and saw his number increase. He started to laugh.

As the body settled into some form of reincarnation, another creature with great dark wings landed on top of it, ripping everything to pieces.

The Slicer had found its next challenger.

With a hiss, it began to move toward its soon-to-be-defeated foe.

In a room at The Last Refuge:

Alexander rolled out of bed and looked in the mirror.

"What a cliché you are," He said while looking at his reflection. Who rolled out of bed and immediately looked at themself in the mirror? Was he a protagonist in some anime? Should he shave his head and go out punching things? Even better, he could grow it out, slick it forward with some strange goop, and then assume that every girl who looked at him was interested. That was the life! But no, he didn't think he was the protagonist in this story. Not even with the Champion abilities sitting quietly in his back pocket.

He snorted at himself in self-mockery.

Looking back at his bed, it could be called almost anything but. A stack of boxes stuffed with something moderately soft was covered in a threadbare blanket. He wasn't sure what was in those boxes, and at this point, he was a little scared to find out. And while he'd like to complain about the moderately clean stuffed tiger serving as a pillow, it was still better than he'd had only a month or so ago.

"Lex, you up!" A cheery voice yelled out from beyond the curtain over his door. The door had disappeared soon after the apocalypse had started, and how and where it went was another mystery in his mind. Either way, the Last Refuge wasn't such a terrible place to be in a world gone to hell.

"Lleexxx!" an incessant voice called a second time.

"I'm up! I'm up!" He called out in return, pushing past the curtain to see Maria trying to look in. He looked back at the entryway to his current living situation and recognized that it was a little angled.

"Were you trying to sneak a peak or something?" He couldn't help asking.

"No! Never!" she replied quickly—a little too quickly, in his mind. He waved a hand, showing he wasn't bothered. "It's fine. Anyways, what's up?"

Smiling at his blase attitude, she hopped in place, striking a pose with one foot slightly forward and a fist raised in the air at an angle, "It's time for your patrol, soldier!"

Lex nodded, not taking on Marias cheery tone with his sudden quick demeanor, "I understand. I'll head out right away."

Maria deflated, "Don't you want to know where you're going, or what to look out for?"

He shrugged, "Why would I? It's always the same. Keep the shadows away, find survivors, find food and water, find toilet rolls. All the essentials, I get it."

She further deflated, "You're no fun."

"I'm not trying to be. It's the end of the world as we know it, Maria. Do your part and try to survive."

The stalwart girl shook her head, braced her shoulders, and looked forward. "But that's not enough."

He'd already started walking, so she had to skip her feet to catch up. He looked at her from the side, not slowing his stride, "What's not enough?"

"Surviving. There's gotta be more Lex, or you won't be in a good place when the bad things come."

"I'm not so certain the bad things won't always come, Maria. What's there to look forward to? My family is gone, my friends, just about everything and everyone I ever cared about."

"Everyone?" She said, stopping in place.

He noticed and turned with a sardonic smile on his face, "Okay, almost everyone."

Seeing her smile was like watching the dawn break. It was a rare moment in a too-dark world. Giving her a rare smile back, he trudged toward the desk and the Sergeant behind it.

"Hello, Alexander," The big-bellied man said with no humor, "Here to grab your weapon, I see."

Trying not to be annoyed at Torn's refusal to use his chosen name, he gave the man a light glare, "Why else would I come to the armory, Torn? Did you think I was visiting to see your great paunch? Perhaps we can dive into the mysteries of what a jelly doughnut used to taste like if I had my eyes closed and a finger in my ass?"

The man scratched his chin briefly, seeming to ponder the ideas within, before breaking out in a great laugh. "That was a good one, Alexander. I see you have been working on our little game."

Alex gave a weak smile, "It's something to do in these times, man."

Torn nodded his head, "Too right, sir. Now you, bastard that you are, and I mean that in every sense, may fill out this form at your leisure."

Lex boiled over as the piece of paper slid in front of him, "It's a fucking club, man; why do you guys make me fill out forms? In fact, why do I have to do it at all? It's not a gun, it's a giant piece of fucking wood you guys whittled down so I could go all caveman."

A darkness took over Torn's face that was missing during their insults. He would allow for a lot of ribbing, gentle or not, but he wouldn't allow someone to insult due process, "It is the way of England, sir, to follow the guidelines set by our betters. Gladstone himself said that due process is not merely a legal doctrine."

"And Cromwell disagreed with him most strenuously, sir, if you're trying to turn the pages of history," Alexander replied, mentally pulling his First-class degree in British history out and shining it for the world to see.

Alexander still filled out the form, as Torn wasn't a bad man and simply liked his rules. Lifting the huge piece of wood up, he shouldered it, carefully not to knock down anything on the walls, and walked out with a slight hunch to keep from hitting the ceiling.

Maria did as she always did when she watched him perform something superhuman....she laughed at him.

"Every time I see that huge stick, you look more and more Neanderthal."

Lex gave her a quick glare, heading for the Eastern gate. She stopped when they were getting close, waiting for him to react, but he wasn't in the mood for frivolity right now. There were some creatures out there, and they needed to die.

Right, now.

He exited from the gate, waving at the guardian for the day, and broke into a bounding sprint as the sun slowly shifted out of view in the sky. Each step took him dozens of feet, and he limbered up his shoulders in between each placement, attempting to get to a decent location before losing the last of the light.

An hour later, Lex caught his breath after moving beyond Last Refuge's bounds. Powerful though he might be, it was hard to run like that with a huge weight on his shoulders for more than an hour. Even he had his limits.

Sitting on the ground, he brought out the trusty lighter his father had given him long ago. On the front was the image of England, while the back held an engraving of Big Ben. Picking up a few dead leaves, which were far too many for this time of year, he grouped them up and smothered them liberally in the lighter's flame.

A moment later, his conflagration was crackling merrily in front of him. Lex nodded, then stretched a little more. The hop-skipping way he had to run nowadays was good for lumbering up his legs, but he needed his arms right now.

When leaving their little town, most patrols spent much of their time in hiding. Moving during the day was helpful for keeping the shadowy creatures at bay, but some were able to walk right into the sunlight with no negative effects. When those times came up, the Refuge stated the best course of action was to run away, although your chances of survival were slim to none. Still, it was a brave man or woman who could step out into the apocalypse to offer humanity a helping hand.

Lex was not like them.

He'd discovered that killing as many of the Shadows as he could each night gave the area around them a breather. He didn't know if it was the travel time from where everything had started or if they were scared of coming to an area where their brethren had died. Either way, his little sojourns out here kept the Refuge safe, whether they knew it or not.

A shadow appeared on his periphery no more than ten minutes after lighting the leaves on fire. Grabbing hold of his cudgel, as that was the true word for his large block of wood, Lex tried to appear relaxed, as if the creature were sneaking up on him.

As it crossed toward him, moving ever closer, Lex flexed his abdominal muscles, twisting while simultaneously swinging the heavy piece of wood as hard as he could. A thin coating of something came out of his chest, wrapping around the cudgel as he swung the large weapon around. At impact, a loud slapping sound rang out, and the shadow broke into pieces before fading away entirely.

"One down, thousands to go." He said to himself, sitting back down to wait for the next would-be predator.

It was going to be a long night.


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