After a successful design run, Mark stretched his arms and decided to end his run here. It was not yet eight o'clock, but he had finished the redesign of the actuators for the leg joints and the engine overhaul. Overall, it was a very productive day for the cat butler.
As he stood up from the terminal, Alex entered the room. She walks up to Mark and types a message. "Do you have a minute?"
Mark looks at the blue-suited teen for a moment. "For you, I will always have time." With a gesture of his hands, he summons the V.R. store and starts browsing. At the same time, he was talking to Alex. "What can I do for you, Alex?"
Alex types another message. When we were at the first warlord battle, I saw the mechs we made getting ripped apart easily. Can we do something to help them?"
Mark thought for a moment."Well, I can toughen up the armor on the next version of the McCain Reaper, but for the current Reaper, we can perhaps design armor attachments, but those will decrease mobility."
While talking to Alex, Mark found what he was looking for at the VR store. With a tap, his selection appeared before him. It was a black box.
In the virtual world, applications that add functions for the VR avatar and operating systems have a visual representation of a black box. When opened, these black boxes will add functions or cosmetic changes, like new skins to change the way that avatars look.
In this case, Mark bought an application for Alex that changed speech into text. This text will be shown in the same text bubbles she was currently using.
Mark hands Alex the box. "This is for you. This way, you don't have to type every time you want to say something. Since you are inside a game pod, no one will hear you speak."
Alex was moved by this gift; it meant that Mark was thinking about her. She carefully grabbed the box with her suited hands. Slowly, she opened the box, savoring the moment little by little. After the box was opened, a flash washed through Alex's avatar, and the application was installed.
As the suited teen began to talk, text bubbles appeared. Without the need for typing, Alex could communicate faster. She was elated by this; her head was surrounded by text bubbles in no time.
Mark, smiling at the sight, gently patted her helmet. "Try to speak slowly, I can not read that fast."
Scarlet stood quietly by the door without making a sound. Her feminine intuition was tingling again. With a smile, she was eavesdropping on the moment. The drama unfolding before her was feeding her thoughts filled with fantasies of a pure first love.
Mark decided to change the upgrade and redesign schedule. "What I'm going to do, since I have finished the engine redesign and the new actuators, is to start with the armor tomorrow morning. I think it will not be difficult to design an armor mod for the current version of the McCain Reaper. Do you agree with that, Alex?
Alex silently nodded, and a text bubble appeared soon after, "OK."
Mark patted Alex's head once again. He loved to do that. Alex did not mind. "Let's go and check on Steve and Scarlet before we log out. It will be eight o'clock soon." As they walked to the door of the design lab, a commotion was heard outside.
As Mark and Alex reached the hallway and opened the door, they found Steve and Scarlet on the floor. Scarlet had tripped and fallen onto an incoming Steve. At the moment, Scarlett's Bouncing ...personality had landed on Steve's face. The teen did not protest.
Scarlet stood up quickly; her waifu face could recreate the blush of the user's face. "Steve, you Jerk! Why don't you look where you are walking to!?"
It was at this point that the energetic teen reacted. "It was you who ran into me; I didn't do anything. Besides, why were you running in the hallway?"
"Never mind that, I will go say goodbye to everyone at the cafeteria before we log out." Scarlet evaded the question. Turning her chin up, she passed beside Steve and walked to the door of the cafeteria.
Mark, wanting to defuse any altercations, changed the subject. "How well did we do today, Steve?" At his side, Alex found the event amusing.
Steve, regaining his composure, answered his question." We did really well; the people of the warlord battles are still in the cafeteria waiting for their repairs. I left the system running solo. I will log back on once I get home and take a break.
Mark smiles at Steve. "You really have taken a liking to the repair shop."
Steve smiles back. To tell you the truth, working at the shop has been great. I have learned a lot and earned a lot of money. I've been converting vouchers into money, and between yesterday and today, I have made around 10,000 L-credits. That is going to be a big help around my house."
Interested, Mark inquires more. "What's the going rate of vouchers these days?"
Steve thinks for a moment. "Well, Marksman, it's a bit unfair. To buy a voucher, you need 3 L-credits, but when changing the vouchers back to credits, 3 vouchers get you 1 credit. I guess they do it to make money, but the rates could be better."
An Idea came to Mark. "I think you can get more money if you make videos and post them on the comm-grid. If you are going to record however, give me a heads up. I want to look my best."
The eight o'clock alarm rang, and they all logged out. They met again as they exited the game pods. The young man and the three teens walked down to the main floor of The Pit, where Mark got back his hover box.
As they walked out of The Pit and Mark was about to call a sky-cab, they heard a voice the young man did not want to hear. "Hey, toothpick, is that you?" Another teen about the same age as Steve and Alex came walking into the entrance of The Pit, where the party was waiting. Three other teens came with him.
By the looks of it, they have set out to look for Mark. Everyone who knew the young man was aware of his fascination with The Pit. Since he used to lack a VR headset back home, Mark used to visit the VR arcade a lot.
Mark knew this person. It was his own personal bully from the institute. Even now, a shiver came down Mark's back as he heard the name his bully used to call him. With total recall, all the times he was called this name came back to mind. The pent-up anger and emotions almost took over him, but Mark was no longer his old skinny self.
The young man took a deep breath to control his anger. With the strength he had now, killing this foolish teen would be child's play. He turned and faced the incoming teens. "What do you want, Derick?"
The teen, full of testosterone and bad choices, walked closer. "I want to know why my girlfriend can't stop talking about you, toothpick." The teen got close to Mark and pushed him. However, the teen was unable to move him. Instead, the force of his push reflected onto him. Derick was forced to take a step back.
Mark looked at the bully directly in the eyes, without blinking. "I guess that is something you have to ask Cristina about, not me. Perhaps you need to take better care of your girlfriend."
Mark's comment infuriated Derick. He threw his fist with the intention of hitting Mark's face, but instead, he hit the palm of Mark's hand. As Derick tried to pull his fist back, he was unable to; Mark's grip was too strong.
One of the other teens took out a telescopic baton, getting ready to attack Mark. Steve saw this and decided to get in the way to protect Mark.
A scene of his past life flashed in Mark's head. He remembered how Steve got hit in the head to protect him. Even after Mark managed to save his life by using his shirt to stop the bleeding, the damage caused to the teen's head, dropped his neuronal capacity from B+ to a D, effectively killing Steve's dream of becoming a real-life mech pilot. His eyes lost their luster, and he was no longer the energetic teen from before.
"Not this time." This single thought crossed Mark's mind. The young man decided to let go of his caution. With his right hand, he moved Steve out of the way. Mark let go of Derick's fist and grabbed his collar with his left hand.
As Mark got hit on the forehead with the baton, he lifted Derick with one hand and pushed him onto the attacking teen. Both of them fell several feet back. The force of the push knocked them out.
As he looked around, he saw Livia kicking a teen into submission. Her powerful kicks looked like the result of years of hard training.
Blood started to pour down Mark's head. Near him, Alex was about to be attacked by the fourth teen. With superhuman speed, he moved and hugged Alex, using his body to cover the attack. But the attack never came; instead, the fourth teen was shaking. Two stun darts were poking his chest. With a thud, the teen fell to the floor without causing harm to anybody.
Three men in civilian clothes surrounded them. The body guards came out of the crowd of people, "Miss Lambert, are you OK? Two of them started to bind the hands of the unconscious teens on the floor.
Mark looked at the trembling Alex. "She is OK," Mark answered the man's question. Steve, are you OK?" Mark started to bleed profusely. The hole ordeal took no more that a few seconds.
Steve grabbed his comm-pad and called emergency services. "I'm okay, marksman, but you are not."
At the same time, Alex looked up. She saw Mark's blood and the wound in his forehead. A sense of urgency filled her.
She pulled back her hood with one hand, and with the other, she yanked on her skullcap, revealing her long and unkempt black hair. With the force of the pull, her sun glasses fell to the floor. Revealing her angelic face to the world. Alex's eyes filled with tears as she used the skull cap to press down on Mark's wound.
A worried voice with a soft tone escaped her lips. "Mark!" The world stood still. Taking in the beauty of her angelic face and unreal eyes. For a moment, her eyes met his, and tears started to run down her rosy cheeks.
Livia was taken in by the scene and watched with undivided attention. "I knew she was a girl." These words escape her lips while stomping on the teen she subdued.
Steve was about to say something when a voice on the other side of the call he made distracted him. Emergency services, how can I help? Steve turned to call for help.
Mark, unmoved by Alex's looks, tried to soothe her alarmed state. "Don't worry, I'm OK this is just a superficial wound." With his right hand, he patted her head, as he always did. Now and in his old life, she always liked that.
A red screen appears in his view, displaying a system message. "Damage detected to the User's frontal lobe. Initiating emergency shutdown to begin treatment."
Mark sits on the floor, Alex's hand is still on his forehead, covering the wound with her skull cap, now filled with blood. Knowing what's about to happen, the young man tries to soothe their worried states once more. "It's all going to be alright, don't worry...." His words stopped coming out abruptly as he lost consciousness.
The three teens were filled with worry as they saw Mark falling backwards into the cold concrete floor. Stunned, they looked helpless on the sidelines as one of the bodyguards treated Mark's wound. The man took out a can from his med kit and removed the skull cap. Pressing the nozzle of the can, a white foamy substance came out. The bodyguard was spreading the substance on Mark's bleeding forehead. Upon contact with the skin, the foam solidified, forming a bandage.
After effectively stopping the bleeding, the man checked his condition. The young man's pulse was strong, and his breathing was steady. "He will be fine. The adrenaline rush he had is over, and his blood loss is catching up. With his wound patched up, he will recover at the hospital."
The man knew that his words were not exactly right, but he wanted to calm the teens watching in desperation at the scene unfolding before them.
About two minutes passed, one of the bodyguards was tending to Mark, another was keeping the juvenile criminals under watch, and the third was controlling the tiny group of people watching the event. Steve, Livia, and Alex were watching over their friend as he was being cared for by Alex's bodyguard. The sound of an ambulance came from the sky above them.
A black ambulance landed near the area of the event. Two paramedics wearing black sunglasses got out of the ambulance. They walked towards the unconscious young man, a gurney hovering behind them. The bodyguard treating Mark told them about Mark's wound and the treatment he used.
One of the bodyguards pointed at the teens on the floor. "The teens bound on the floor were the ones who started this whole thing. They..."
One of the paramedics stopped the bodyguard from explaining any further. "I'm sorry, we are here for the trauma victim; another ambulance will come for them."
The two paramedics placed Mark on the gurney and started to move him towards the ambulance. His three friends tried to get on with him, but were stopped by the paramedics. "Only family members are allowed on the ambulance with the patient." They loaded Mark into the ambulance.
Steve, grabbing his comm-pad, wanted to call a sky-cab to get to the hospital. "Which hospital are you taking him to?"
The paramedic thought for a moment. "We are taking him to Berant's Mercy Hospital." With a weird smile, the paramedic gave all of Mark's thing to Steve and loaded the gurney onto the ambulance. Once Mark was inside the vehicle, they closed the doors and lifted off into the sky. The teens noticed the lack of sirens. A few seconds after the black ambulance left, a white ambulance arrived.
A paramedic and a medical droid came out of the ambulance. One of the bodyguards pointed at the teens on the floor. "These have minor contusions, maybe a concussion, and that one was tasered. They were the ones who started the fight."
The paramedic looks around. "And where is the trauma victim?"
The bodyguard, looking a bit confused, answered. "He was taken by the black ambulance, the paramedics said that you were coming for them." The bodyguard pointed at the miscreants on the floor.
"Sir, there are no black ambulances; all medical vehicles must be white and have red color markings identifying them as emergency vehicles; it is city code." The paramedic pointed at the vehicle he had come in, and the ambulance had the colors he described. Looking at the teens on the floor. "As for them, once I have treated them, the police will take them."
Steve, hearing the man's explanation, got worried. "Then who took Mark?"
Inside the black ambulance, the sketchy paramedics were injecting Mark with substances. In front of the vehicle, a man dressed in black sat behind the automated steering wheel. The lights of the buildings reflected on his dark sunglasses as he passed them by.
Taking out his comm-pad, he initiated a call. Soon after, a response came from the other side. "Well, Qu, what do you have to report?"
The man spoke with a cold expression. "Doctor, we have secured the subject and are bringing it into the black site as we speak." The man takes a look at the rear-view mirror, looking at the fake paramedics working on the young man behind him. "The subject is heavily sedated and should remain unconscious for a few days."