Chapter 3: Knight's Assent
Gear's Deputy?! ME?!?! Today, that's a joke. That's a joke, and that's final. Every last Volteer that knows of the three years of terror I imposed on the government would know that me and Gear showed more of a fierce rivalry than even me and Avonu (or any other ***hole from any gov't, for the record). We wanted each other dead at all costs. That being said, yes, I was, for some brief time, thinking that I could be a part of the law-and like it. Stupid, stupid, twelve-year old me.
But, it was true-It seemed likely that I'd be his partner. Imminent, even.
I was waiting in my room. I still wasn't informed of where I was, or what was to become of me, other than I'd train with my childhood fantasy hero to control powers that haven't even revealed themselves until I put my hand on a stone table.
I was wondering where Gear was. It didn't take long after I thought a completely random thought one thinks while waiting for someone to find out where he was.
I was no longer in my room-I was in someplace like a control room, with me observing six people: Gear, Anne, Storm, and three others: Guillotine, a man who was against Gear until he got amnesia and repented, with very dark everything and a massive blade where his codename derived from; A young girl with flowing clothes, a extremely large black ponytail that was almost perfectly concealing her body, somebody I never saw or thought up of before; and a half-Empoleon half-nine-year-old boy. I was confused and panicked-this wasn't natural.
Then again, nothing of what I went through so far was natural. This must be part of the powers I got...Yhea, that was it...
"...So, we all know why we're here..."
Gear said, looking at the other five. Gear was the only one who's face I could see, and I couldn't move-I wanted to, but I couldn't.
"He's nobody and no one we can search...He's got no family..."
"But he's no pet. We can't keep him."
The Girl with the massive hair said.
"...You. Gear, you said that during interrogation, Lavar said that the 'Archangel betrayed him.' Do you think that..."
"That Avalon might be this Archangel?"
Gear said, responding to Guillotine. "Or that he's strong enough to be considered the Archangel?"
"...To say he's the Archangel is to say that he's the Arbiters version of Jesus Christ." Guillotine said. "I've been with them, practiced the d**m religion!" He added, cussing. I was twelve, I recoiled at the sound of it. Nowadays, I could easily tolerate it. "The Archangel is the only thing that the Arbiters worship besides Erevius! Erevius basically saved the Archangel's soul from total destruction, and blessed it with it's own power...Nobody, not Even the Arbiters, know what it looks like, other than it has six wings, henceforth the name." Guillotine said. "However, he's powerful. No doubts."
...The Arbiters...That was the name of the group Guillotine had sided with originally...But Gear destroyed their leader at the very end, how could they have resurrected themselves so quickly? And...The Archangel...Me?!
This was getting more absurd by the minute. I shouldn't be here at all, to begin with. I should be at my room waiting for Gear to collect me-Nay! I should be at my house, in a completely different dimension, writing about Gear's story. Then, there was the fact that there was that voice, there was Gear's actual existence, as well as the insane level of power I now had. To add in I was a deity to a group of Armageddic morons was even worse.
Boom. I was back in my room, waiting to be collected by Gear. Whatever it was, it was gone as suddenly as it came.
...You know, I really didn't look at myself between when I first woke up in the wooden shack until now. There was a mirror nearby. I looked in it.
I knew the clothes I wore weren't the pajamas I usually wore, or the Halloween costume I had on. Instead, there was a pair of long jeans and a blue, short-sleeved athletic shirt, with a long jacket on, sporting a much darker shade of blue. The usual long brown hair was tied up in bunches, semi-spiky, kind of like the Pokemon Togekiss. Being twelve, I was about four-foot-eleven, with a bit of a lanky body and a strong right arm. I had shoes on unlike any style I ever saw advertised at home. Oh, and of course, the beret: The black beret, a cloth I had never had upon my head until recently was now upon my head, sitting there like I had worn it every day of my life, yet like it was brand-new. In fact, everything was. I had never seen those clothes before
From wherever Gear was, Gear was now back, as he opened the door. "You'll start now."
The training room had mirrors. However, the Mirrors were thick and reinforced by some kind of Volteer technique. For any Volteer, breaking the average mirror was very easy. The padding below our feet was (obviously) the kind used at a gymnasium: Soft yet thick, able to withstand the falling of people, and allowing people to withstand falls.
"Now then, there's been a death recently. The dead man was one of thirty people to learn special military martial arts. It's called Knights' assent. It can only offer about thirty people exactly at once, and I'd rather have it to stay that way. You are very, very well qualified to be taught such a technique. Although anybody could attempt learning it, it's impossible to master without either the Seraph's Eye or strong Psychic abilities, as well as several micro-differences that I'd never be able to tell you about."
Gear said. You've got incredible Psychic ability, almost beyond what most Volteers have. The level of power overall is also a very good sign-Major or Legendary rank Volteers are needed for this program. Just some fair warning-this training almost never stops. You'll get an hour of break, tops. However, it can be mastered in months, and its got an amazing strong point."
Gear said, pacing. "This strong point is an ability: not only is one knowing of martial arts that best fits their body, as well as martial arts that counter styles that could otherwise easily take you down, but also allow you to see what styles go well in others."
The Seraph's Eye was an ability that allowed somebody-Psychic or otherwise-to see the odds of whatever the user desired. Gear had it. I did get some things right, right?
"...Do you already know what kind of style suits me?"
"...The style of martial arts is almost never a true style. It's generally a hybrid of two styles."
Gear said. "That being said...This is still kind of top-secret. Before I tell you the answer, I must say that you must keep a tight lip about this to Civilians. Those that have participated are known, but I don't want people finding out how they're so good."
Gear said, holding out a hand. "Do we have a deal to keep this silent?"
I was hating my situation harder and harder the more time I had to contemplate it. However...I had a feeling that fighting will be a part of it. There was no doubt in my mind. At the time, what reason had I to tell anybody?
I took the hand at shook it, smiling. Gear smiled too. They were identical.
"Good...I can say easily that I can't tell you diddly-squat until you've just showed me how you fight."
Gear said. "Just hit the dummy over there..."
Gear said, holding out his hand towards a stuffed, human-shaped figure shoved aside in a corner of the room. Surprisingly (for me), it moved towards his hand, but stopped suddenly halfway up the course, then moved between me and Gear. Of course. He had powers of his own...
"Hit it. In any way possible. Punch it, kick it, head-butt it, throw it, do whatever to it..."
To be frank, I took his advice, exactly as he said it. One punch to the chest, one kick to the legs, a head-butt (take my advice: head-butts are for people with thick skulls), then I picked it up like I was hugging it, then span around and around, and let go, sending it flying to a nearby mirror, which didn't break on impact.
To be honest, the hug-throw was quite funny to Gear. "Hahahah! The old bear hug throw, eh? Actually, that's something completely different!"
Gear said, bowling over. I was laughing too. It was quite funny to see me grip the bear like it was a friend I hadn't seen for a while, then lift it up, spin around and slam it into something. Unorthodox, but effective.
"Alright then, heheh, You've got skill in...Lemme think a moment.......Err...Something between Judo and Kung-Fu...
Kung-Fu was a very generic martial art. Judo's also very generic. though I didn't really know what Judo was at the time.
Now...I'm not going to try
to tell you HOW I learned a mix between Judo and Kung-Fu, because if I did, then you'd try to copy me, and when you think you're invincible and try to face me, you'd fail really, really hard. Thirty people with the ability to know Knight's Asset that perfectly weren't easy to come across. Besides, I couldn't publish stuff that directly included Knights Assent secrets.
Fortunatly for you, I can say tell you a few things about it: first off, a 23 hour train-a-thon is not easily survivable, much less when a twelve-year old attempts it. How did I survive such a brutal amount of time, which is in itself quite punishing? Gear provided food. A lot of it. Five times. It was a meal, every time: breakfast generally included scrambled eggs and bacon (thank god I put in regular food for Gear's Dimension), first and second lunches generally had a ton of pasta in mind, and third lunch generally included steak, and dinner included Caesar salad and something seafood related (sometimes with pasta). It was this and ridiculously fast progress that powered me through the day, though I tore through every last dish, no matter how much was there, and still felt good hunger.
However, the promise of food didnít take away from the harshness of it. It was military training: I didnít initially realize that training in judo and kung-fu would involve someone yelling at you like a drill instructor. It was merely annoying at first, but after a while I forgot completely he was.
OK, back to the story...I had been two weeks into the program. I was asleep and dreaming. When you take the whole day minus a hour to practice, you get tired fast. On the flipside, I was already formidable: Gear couldn't describe it, and neither could I, but I was seemingly a natural at the very styles that Gear had selected.
Sadly, the dreams weren't pretty.
I looked behind myself first. Blood and corpses were everywhere-and it was fresh corpses too. Half wore black robes. Half were clothed like army men. The blood stopped just short of my shoes.
I looked ahead next, and the duck to avoid the fist that came out of nowhere was almost automatic. Someone very angry had thrown it, and was about to back flip-and a gun suddenly materialized in his hand.
I instantly reached for a sheath on a belt I wore, and pulled out a blade as quick as lightning, unable to read the details of such a blade as that out of the speed, as I caught the bullet just fired-yes, caught it-in the other hand. I then just swiped the blade at the air between me and my random assailant, instinctively. A wave of energy, coming straight from the sword itself, cut him in two, turning him into a bloody mess really quickly...But there was no time to think. I had two more attackers coming from nowhere, faces livid with thoughts of destroying the kid in front of them heartlessly.
Then the two thoughts came. The first: Go forward, at all costs. The second: Kill whatever stands in your way, any way possible.
I'm not telling you how much of a bloodbath it really was. To be frank, I killed about a thousand people before it ended. A nightmare, and nothing short of it. I was ashamed that I couldn't wince at each kill. The blood trail at the back was forewarning.
Far more forewarning than I realized, too.
Then the scene shifted. I was being thrown to a wall in someplace. It looked kind of like a warehouse, but the main feature of this portion of my dream was...Gear, looking like he was staring down something both pitiful and evil. He had the Gear Titan, pointed at my chest. He'd destroy my life with it. He'd destroy my soul with it.
I saw a chain-what it connected to, I had no clue, but I had a pistol. With accuracy that shouldn't come with a twelve-year old that had never shot a gun in his life before, I pulled the trigger at the chain, right when Gear was about to stab me.
He stopped just before the legendary blade met my skin, and looked at the chain which I shot, which broke. Something was moving from above, and something that looked like a giant gun, the kind you put on a battleship, went sailing towards Gear.
Gear said, while I ran like my life depended on gaining space between me and my childhood hero. And it probably did.
The real Gear (Was he real at all?) then decided that it was high-time to work on more kinds of Volteer techniques, Kicks and Punches. After thirty minutes of sleep. Ugh. Gear said that people that did the Knight's Assent could sleep a whole day after the day the training was done. I honestly hoped he was right.
"Avalon! I'm pretty sure that you're pretty curious about the world around you!"
Even though I thought up of the whole freaking world Gear lived in down to the tip of the leafs that grew on plants, it was already off-course. Gear shouldn't have a goatee. Oh, and Gear shouldn't exist! It would pay to learn the world around me. Cavix was utterly new.
"Good, because either way, I've got good news. You've...exceeded expectations. Knight's Assent is for those very above the average. You are above average for the very above average."
Gear said. "So, you're ahead of schedule. I think that at this rate, we'll finish before Christmas."
he added. "However, I've got a few things that I also have to tell you. I've got to tell you where you are, and how it works. The conflict, the government, and everything else."
Gear said, starting his routine pacing.
"Today, for one day, you'll try to learn how the world works. I think that you'll do it in half a day, because you soak up everything like a sponge.
Gear said, reaching for my hand, and pulling me up. I was lucky I could tour the streets, take a break, possibly sleep while it was going on. I'd need every last bit of info to live here...And get back home.
Get back home. That was the number one priority. I had no reason to be here, I had far more reason to be at home. I had a family, for one. I had school, for two. Oh, and I've got a million things better than learning the world's hardest, fastest military martial arts program ever, for three.