𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚

︿︿︿︿︿❀̫᤺᤺ˀᤢ⃟ᵕ๎ꯨ≋ࣳ۬˶ᨑ︿︿︿︿︿

﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́ ༅˻˳˯ₑ❛░⃟ ⃟°˟̫· · · ·

▒𖧷̷۪۪ᰰ⃟   ᭙ꫀꪶ ᥴꪮꪑꫀ 𝕥ꪮ ꪑꪗ ડ𝕥ꪮ𝕣ꪗ! ❀်ིི۪۪۫۫꒰°⃘۪۪̥̩̥◌ ۪۪۪۫

                                                      ❁፧⿴⃟

- ̗̀↳♡̷̷ ˊ- ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

ᨒ*̥ᨒ⋆*̥ᨒ

| ⃝᭣࿆ ρrᥱ᥎ι᥆ᥙ᥉ ᥴhᥲρtᥱr         ᥒᥱ᥊t ᥴhᥲρtᥱr | ⃝᭣࿆

.     .     .  ❀⃟- ̗̀ะ;༣ཾ྄∘  .     .     .

     · · · · ﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́﹏̈́ ༅˻˳˯ₑ❛░⃟ ⃟°˟̫

     . .╭──࿎࿎─ ︿︿︿︿︿︿ .   .   .   .   .   .

      . .┊ ‹‹❛❀ Title: The Cyberpunk Academia

     . .┊✎｡｡｡Author: Van

     . .┊✎｡｡｡Words: 6,119

     . .┊.         Started: 10/05/22

     . .┊◝໋࣮ᬄ゚꫶   Finished: 31/05/22

     . .╰───  ⃟ੂ۪͙۫ׄꦿ๑࿐ ︶︶︶︶︶︶ ♡⃕ ⌇. . .

     . . . . . . ┊⿻ Genre: Cyberpunk, Science

                           Fiction, Synth-wave, Action,

                            Street-Racing, Mystery.

     . . . . . . ┊⿻ Characters/pairing: Heh, all are

                           anonymous, take a guess.

. . . . . . ┊⿻ Reference: Please note that this

                          piece only derives inspiration

                          from the 80’s cyberpunk,

                          anti-corporation revolt, centred

                          around Japan and I have mixed  

                            Synthwave aesthetic because

                              I love the 80’s too much. It

                            has no intention to hurt any

                            cultural sentiments. Also, some

                           things will require you to refer

                            to the glossary that I have

                            provided in advance since this

                            includes a cyber world evolved

                             through science, I’ll update the

                             glossary once I go through all    

                             the but it won’t be

                              anything crucial to the story.

  . . . . . . ┊⿻ Setting: Dystopian, for the most     

                                      part.

      . . . . . . ┊⿻ Warnings: It is not violent in any way yet there are certain interesting elements so, I don’t know. There is street-racing, presented in a very different way, so if you’re not comfortable, don’t proceed or skip it altogether.

      . . . . . . ┊⿻ Author's note: This took me ages, and the ideas incorporated were done through research but, I’ll let you be the judge of this. Also, this is my first time writing something like this too, so I’d like to know if it’s any good and I might consider writing a second part if it is to your liking.

      . . . . . . ┊⿻ Tags: #No2Aesthetic

     . . . . . . ╰──༄ ‧₊˚───── ─── ❨❀❩

❝ ❞↷ˊ-

⃟ੂ۪͙۫ׄꦿ๑࿐ ︶︶︶︶︶︶ ♡⃕ ⌇. . .

.     .     .  ❀⃟- ̗̀ะ;༣ཾ྄∘  .     .     .

City of Glitzy,

C2U Digitalis.

Unconventionally bizarre and remarkably rare, were often the noteworthy, far-flung phrases well-sung in the lambent limelight, which was especially effulgent in the city of glitzy as parlance only limited to parody. To the onlookers, the exceedingly unmatched yet whimsically outlandish city was, but a freakish hub for eccentric, self-labelled, outcasts that called themselves ‘cyber bugs’, d with the diversified, yet highly acclaimed, C2U Digitalis, or to be precise, C.U academy.

A city that had ostentatiously garnered repute, glitzy, was only considered to be a shoddy, disorderly and despicable doghouse famed for adopting uncivilised, most barbaric loutish thugs, that harboured vicious intentions against the world. Such was the opprobrium exaggerated to subjugate their authority underneath the sham of ‘helping the poor bugs of glitzy.’

Walking languidly and rather covertly, as if he was only a shadow casted off by the alpine tall, lofty-looking pillars, he was only intrigued by the delusive idealism that those snobbish, snoot like snotty pompous brats propagated as if they were exalted fishers, ingeniously capricious and adept in manoeuvring the desires that were highly sought after. The Wafer city of the Cerebras was a centrefold of economical, legislative and authoritative activities, a hotbed honed to epitomise a world, maximised by self-integrated capital and subsidised to circumvent the freakish, super cyber powers, monetised by C.U Digitalis, from becoming a perpetual stronghold of limitless leisure.

Well, to him, such haughtiness was like a sluggish snowfall amid an autumnal equinox, irrelevant and ridiculously pathetic to glean and rationalise as something of a ‘miracle’.

“Selling python’s peas, eat one and recharge your energy today to become an expendable quickly.” An adolescent dressed in an extravagancy of some fancy forced his voice with all his might to promote his ‘wares.’

“Oh, you better not be scamming us, electro jazzy boy-dude.” Just when he was about to pierce his ears with another croakish yell, a group with a similar sense of fashion, were quick to notice his roundabout ways and one of them, perked up and half-scolded him.

One of his companions, fixed his brightly coloured spectacles and sneered crudely as he dissected his words like a knife smothering butter, “Becoming an expendable by using python, how truly pathetic. I say this is a ruse to get your RAM, don’t fall prey to the tricks of those ruffians from the glitch gang.”

“You wanna fight, don’t you, you impish looking rascal!”

Only when the brutish looking companion of the bespectacled man was clenching his knuckles and leering threateningly, one of the store-sellers stepped in, luxuriously as it was a scuffle akin to a party and he was a practitioner of an ‘easy-goer chauvinist’, “Now, now, cyber-fair is infamous for its scrupulous scandals, and C.U’s high graders wouldn’t interfere with us regardless of what we do, would they?”

But the muscled man from the other party was rather keen on his justifiable proclamation and pointed out as if, it was thievery and the stolen candy was rotten, “But this lad is fraudulent, and even if C.U is lenient, that hot-tempered, feral-like, high-grader won’t ever let us live in peace. If you know, then you know.” Shrugging his shoulders casually, the man was outspoken and could easily outnumber everyone with his extracurricular strength yet, he could sense the almost tremble in his voice at the last word.

“Oh, you mean him…” The brazenness of the python-pea seller was forgotten like the commodity itself that he was so profanely besotted with, earlier. Now, the attention of their meaningless squabble, had cowardly shifted ‘mouse-keys’ towards the dire circumstances that were associated with someone of ‘utmost’ authority in C.U.

High-lifer, or high-grader, he was certainly optimistic that they’d be a life-goner in some time.

“Ugh, just the mention of his name is enough to shake up the streets of Glitzy.” A bitterness seeped in his hesitant voice, as it interrupted their fearsome silence in reckless pursuit of whatever plans the one with shiny blue hair had. “He’s too much of a celebrity or well…only famous for being infamous amongst his peers. If you know, then you know, ehe.”

“Hey, don’t copy me like that, blueberry jazzy boy.”

“Now, what will you do, frappuccino looking jazzy gemmy gem.”

“Was that supposed to be..an insult?”

“Pfftt…you both have got some sick humour. Come now, it’s time for that.”

Ineffectual small-talk yet constructive clues to be d with if it could. He susceptibly regarded them as paradoxical tweeties, ’beneficial only in banter’, a troublesome exchange of the material truth that ought to be invaluable or incessant in altering the course of his thoughts like some concoction of illumine 1.110, was what he thought as his transfixed gaze subtly aligned itself with their disappearing silhouettes as if he was a wireless LAN network cable, which was only good enough for transmissions that were rather superfluously cumbersome. Suddenly, he was struck with an intriguing phenomenon, most probably due to his wifi senses that were tingling with some anticipation at the new prospect and his sharpened senses snapped as if they were charged up electrons, all the while, he maintained a calm demeanour. ‘That’, could it be something frivolous, quite similar to their facades or would he be enlightened with familiarity if he could infiltrate into C.U?

“Tsk. Infiltrating sounds as inflated as the dead-end of my life. So pathetically dead and bothersome that I could die of boredom if it wasn’t for ‘that’.”

Frolicking and fraternising with youthful familiarity, the group of mismatched ‘friends’ were festively joyful and garnered attention wherever they went. Naturally, it was to be assumed that they were so extravagantly dressed in glamorous-feeling robes, that it was comprehensible enough yet, the chip-like badges with ‘undignified’ numerals, authorised by the C.U to mid and high-graders, were essentially lustrous in making their ‘flamboyancy’ flashily stand out amidst the rabble. Quite ironical, given how integrating their ‘morals’ regarding divisions in societal and scholarly worlds were, he could only be apathetic to this ‘morally’ ravishing display of structural nonchalance.

Perhaps, they were audaciously over-confident and self-assuringly boisterous to think that this way of ‘partitioning the private’ was ethically pleasing. Regardless, he lingered lamentably, in a corner and stifled a desperate yawn by lazily tugging up his hoodie and graciously stepping out of the way of a ‘cyber-disco jockey’ who was too intoxicated to notice the lamp post that he did bump into, eventually.

“Sucks to be the lamp post.”

Looking entranced, the rainbow entrenched, vibro-hued thoroughfares of the city were bustling with jazzy polyrhythms jejunely, reverberating like a softly stimulating waltz; in perfect harmony with the sensuality of the stipulating, self-resilient crescendo versed in the flamboyancy of induced, intricate freedom.

Triumphant trumpets tangled rather fashionably in a euphonious dulcet, mellifluous like the sweetly designed fonts-fondue, a renowned dessert known for appeasing the five and a half senses of the cyber bugs. This auspicious occasion was not a sight that could be seen often, given the jurisdiction of the cyber laws that prohibited ‘misuse’ of their stringent energies lest it was to be exhausted or extorted through illegal means. Scientifically, such energies were rather constrained by the fall and rise of the emotional tides that one could eventually experience anytime, yet they could be spiked by the inequilibrium if permitted to be used precariously. Hence, the invigoration of ‘golden ratio, O2’, to keep their energies at a specified limit, was designated to them based on their energy extraction.

“Such fanciness to equate proportional momentum in the displacement of natural and artificial energies. Seriously, Digitalis is so stingy that my nose is starting to smell.” He thoughtlessly wondered if this golden ratio that they considered to be their breath, could be any useful.

An earsplitting screech followed after, as soon as he was able to reach the cybercity square, “Ahoy, cyber, the bugs, of the Glitzy! Welcome to the annual cyberpunk festival of binomial deduction. It is the time to show your festive spirit and get into the adventurous frenzies of a fantastic cybero-glider-craft competition. The winner will-“

“Hold on, is this how ya are gonna do this racin’ thing?” A sonorous voice had roughly cut in, as the announcer was dubiously looking around the audience for the ‘hyper’ intruder. Sighing with much resignation at the oversight on the part of the presenter that was intentionally a tone high, the same man, voraciously stepped in, without any thought to his overtness, and curtly asked with a cheerful smile, ” Give that mic to me and get off, please.”

“It is Present Mic.” Someone screeched as soon as the limelight glittered on the man’s face and the upheaval that soon followed, was surprisingly immense, even for him, who was repulsively dumbfounded to be stuck in such a ridiculous predicament.

“Oh no, not him!”

“Oh yes, it is I, Present Mic, your fav high grader of music, and I have come here to make y’all live your life in a more ‘cyber-jazzy’ style, heh.” Throwing some finger guns, that were comically followed by his crazy shenanigans which he was, arguably, too gobsmacked to be able to reflect on, whilst the crowd extolled his endeavours, and at his constant incitement, even he had to regrettably it the man’s questionable ‘skills.’

“Cyber-jazzy?”

“Aye, aye, the competition is only borin’, we’re gonna rock this city with our gliders and it will be in the most jazzzyyyyy wayyy, are you readyyyyy?” A ringing resounded too readily for anyone to acknowledge their ‘readiness’, and Present Mic pleasantly took that as an affirmative despite being able to read the room.

The horde of fleeing, floating bugs quickly dispersed as if they were bewitched by a tone-deaf siren’s song of serenity, which had been presumably misinterpreted in the most pitiful, dissonant destitute of harmony when it so closely resembled ’insanity’. Just as he was about to covertly look through the buzzing faces, a conversation sifted through his ears almost lazily, as if it had nothing better to do than indulge in the great sin of procrastination.

“Well, I don’t get what he means by jazzy, but I think it sounds manly.” Bright red almost blinding, dazzled through his dulled vision yet he was intrigued by his conversation.

“The winner will be allowed to get into ‘that’, and can have whatever they wanna have, so good luck to all ya party people, get ready to leave a long lastin’ ripple. Let the cyber-jazzy games begin!!” Present Mic’s sudden exclamation took almost everyone by surprise, yet he was unfazed and only heaved a sigh in reluctance.

“He completely changed the name of the festival, didn’t he?” Someone chuckled beside the red-haired boy.

“Ah, that’s pretty normal compared to…”

“To ‘them’, he means.”

“The three cloves of the C.U.”

Blinking bemusedly, he repeated the words inaudibly and distastefully grumbled under his breath at the tackiness of such a name.

“But I heard that they wouldn’t be participating this time, was it because of ‘that’.”

Yet again, he clicked his tongue, as the repeated words reverberated through his ears as if siphoning his lifeline to some edifice, misconducted in Satan’s debauchery and more than enough to make him curse incomprehensibly.

“Yes, most probably. But he might ister the competition.” The red-haired boy was quite enthusiastic despite the concerned flicker he had very, slyly, hidden as soon as his friend looked at him with a pout.

“Oh no, not him!” The blond-haired muttered, stomping his feet like a toddler, demanding cyber-coco.

“Oh yes, him. He might have that fiery temper but he is very complacent and reliable in such times.”

“I heard that he took down the invading bots from Invertness of Screendavia?” The spectacled boy from before ed them as he divulged something worth of misinformation, yet the others seemed to be impressed.

“Oh wow, he is something else.”

“His cyber energy must be equivalent to the red decimal, given his wealth.” They applauded in unison as if it was something of a miracle, and he almost snorted, for the concerned decimal was negatively invaluable in his opinion.

“Oh, I heard that the three cloves were exceptionally wealthy and the accumulated RAM earned by them is even higher than the red decimal of combined expendable energy.”

“Impossible, red decimal is…too difficult to reach.” The blond shook his head dismissively as he cupped his cheeks, seemingly distressed over the possibility of something that was indeed, next to impossible.

“Well, wealth is another thing, the higher graders are called so, because of their commendable executive and intuitional powers in their respective fields. Besides, you can become a high grader too, if you meet all the binary expectations of Java. “ The other said, as he fixed his glinting glasses and almost smiled.

“I am good as a middle grader. Those expectations will throw me in the recycle bin faster than I can even browse for my will and I really-weally, value my life.” Sweating profusely, he mumbled out, as the other two seemed to be used to his antics.

“Well, how’s your glider lookin’?”

“Not so shabby as your glider.”

“You little…”

Maybe he was unruffled by their unkempt revelations or simply disinterested, but he thought it best to approach them for some significant improvements, in this ongoing theory, riddled by just one word, ‘that’.

“Excuse me, cybermen.” Morphing into a comionate acquaintance, he diligently approached them with a familiar smile.

“Oh, what an honour to be called by that. You must be a monomial. “ The red-haired was startled by his ‘advancement’, yet he was pleased to be greeted as such.

Fixing his glasses yet again, the other one gave him a polite nod, “It is always good to have such noble monomials who’d respect their seniors without questions.”

“Well, what did ya want?” Curiosity often sparked enough to channel a current and they were not too different from his perception.

He, nevertheless, had a troubled look on his face as he calmly inquired, “May I know the location of ‘that’, I am not sure if it really means ‘that’.”

“Well, then what would it mean if not for ‘that’?” If unexpected was a person then they would be identically recognised for being twins, he thought as he tried to pique their curiosity by just a little.

“It could be that ‘that’.” He whispered, pointedly staring at the wall behind them, making them undeniably anxious.

“Oh no, not that ‘that’.”

“Oh yes, it could be ‘that’.”

Too engrossed in their frenzied fraternity over the misunderstanding of ‘that’, he bowed respectfully and bid them adieu, seemingly satiated for a reason unbeknownst.

“So it is like that, thank you for your time, cybermen. Please enjoy the festival.”

“Oh, such manners. If only the others were like you. What’s your name?”

A bloom almost inconspicuous, cornered his mouth as his eyes glimmered with unyielding intentions. A penchant for the malice of something cataclysmic, brimmed over as he discourteously walked towards them, unlike before. A low-toned voice, almost like a baritone, with a sharpened bayonet for a gaze, glided through them, almost threateningly when he licked his lips, and tentatively replied as if devouring sins off the palate of unsatisfied, “Thirteen.”

Feeling the subtle shift in the air, the airhead asked hesitatingly, as if he wanted to diffuse the most suffocating tension, “Oh, are ya a mixed-species?”

“Something like that.” He chose not to give in and shrugged his shoulders as if he was someone else.

“How interesting, I look forward to seeing you at C.U Digitalis.” The bespectacled senior shook hands with him and he was much obliged to return the gesture, despite what he wanted.

“Much appreciated, thank you for the welcome.”

“Why, of course.”

The razzle-dazzle of the ameliorated arena, where the supposedly zippy, ‘cyber-jazzy’ competition, was to be commemorated, was like a spherical, sprightly cube, infused with splendiferous embellishments that were rather an eyesore to his enervated constitution. The swooping, super-sonic, waves transmitted through the soaring sleighs, which probably contained the cybero gliders for each participant. Unpretentious yet obnoxious middle to high graders, paraded around with their boisterous smirks as if they were self-proclaimed winners, and the pebbled, puny like bugs were only adequate in nourishing the ambrosia with their paltry pulverisation for power.

“The race…” He faltered with a frown blemishing his partly camouflaged face, as he mulled over something intermittently concerning. Could it be that he could win, and ascertain the contents of ‘that’ for himself?

“Most perplexing. Should I go the easy way or the easiest way?”

Blustering bursts rambunctiously resounded throughout, as the screeching wheels whirled to an unbecoming sight, forcefully skidding past the pavement and steadily being guided to encryption, lest they were to be flawed by the inaugural inception that many believed in. He was uncurious and seemed to be extraordinarily equitable given how the participants were bristling with profound vivacity that was relentlessly inadequate and he, naturally, prodded his mind to diligently discern the amicable sight of the supposedly jazzy glider instead of swarming around with nothing better.

“Isn’t he a monomial? As far as I know, this competition is only for the binomials.”

“Maybe he is qualified enough?

“He certainly doesn’t seem to make the cut.”

The hushed undertones of the archetypical wonders, imbued by the lethal inquisitiveness, often discomfited the confident and baffled the minuscule. On the disillusioned premise of uncharted buffering that he was, fortunately, surrounded by, solely attributed to his splendour, as their gaudy-gallant like the world made him the mirror, to overcome their shortcomings in the present disposition.

“The competition will now commence. All participants are required to connect with their A.I. The mental preparation will be followed by a three-minute warmup, after which, the blaring alarm will be rung. The field ahead of you is abundant in A-star viruses, with F being the lowest. Gliding through the town of glitchy, visibility will be deemed irrelevant and only commands abbreviated through specialised energy combinations, equipped with controls rationalised through programming, can help you navigate your way through the obstacles. The Java setup for the arsenal, that has been attached to your gliders, can only be activated when your natural expendable energy is at the maximum, against the odds. Participants are now requested to , and begin mental reparations.”

“Expendable energy at the maximum? How can they expect us to limit our energies just to enable the defence?” Someone exclaimed, causing the others to question the rules that the automated voice had just enumerated.

“How preposterous. It’s like sending us off to the virtual battlefield, equipped with nothing but low-level encryption for use against the foes.” The other retorted, and he had to it that the competition was absolutely set up for lunatics obsessed with malignant blood-thirst.

“Maybe the viruses would be easy to sabotage. After all, the difficulty is quite high in of the landscape.”

“Glitchy town is too damn glitchy for anyone. Those hellishly unstable glitches mess up with our minds, thus, rendering our commands useless against every single thing.”

“It is like a system, and a system is nothing without programming, so be sure to jam it all in.”

Pilfering with the controls and altering between the switches, he was swiftly able to attach the A. I to his mind, whilst efficiently enabling the command system. The golden ratio digits were expeditiously flickering, as he testified the glider and looked through the attached screen. The skateboard was ornamentally delineated with differentiated illustrations, all to give it a ‘glitzy’ vibe and he was rather intrigued by the intrinsic exterior, to the point of slightly thwarting it with his feet, only to retract belatedly after realising that he still needed to complete his ‘chores’. He inwardly chuckled at his ‘not so intended pun, and freely dislodged the wheels, displacing the original command with a made-up one almost instantly. After ascertaining the position and calculating the formula for free-falling, he composedly ejected about two per cent of his energy from his mind and inexorably powered up the automobile.

“The countdown will now start. Please, place yourselves before the line.”

Whirring vibrations whizzed past him as they waited for the countdown, clenching their hands that were mostly trembling with fervour and much feeble anticipation. Tracing his gloved finger through the soft edges of the dimly-lit screen, he lightly hummed a tune and leisurely aligned himself with the others.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One. Get, set, go!”

Blurred blight at a rapid flight, persuaded his vision to activate his glider, although, with deferred friction. Nevertheless, as the other gliders dived into the obscure abeyance of whatever seemed to be the starting point, he, scouted his surrounding with the prescience over the enigma of the unknown and extracted another ten per cent from his energy to initiate the command of upheaval.

“Equation C, 1111, south of the berg.”

Spiralling upwards, as if it was bolstered up by something efficacious and overwhelming, the glider shifted through the directives, and suddenly plummeted towards the warp-like opening, almost facing the opposite way from the others.

“What is he up to? Warping and flying use too much of the expendable energy, is he really insane?”

“Well, to each their own, I guess.”

Tapping dextrously, with forgetive forethought whilst onishing arbitrarily to those who were grandly upbeat with self-assured, fairly fabricated sobriety, proved to be a hassle worth pursuing. Mumbling yet another command as he lifted his hand and waved as he flitted fleetingly through the winding warp of immolated integrity, and briskly entered the bruited circumference of the glitchy-phoney town.

The presenter was persuaded by the prevailing atmosphere to narrate the accomplishments that everyone was so taken by, “A remarkable feat to fester. Surely the glider of cybero 1305, seems to be fashionably familiar with outwitting his superiors, yet he seems to exhibit nothing extraordinary through his poised demeanour. What a ravishing sight indeed. Well-“

“Ain’t no way are ya gonna do this when I, Present Mic, is here. Give me the mic right now.”

Aghast by the compelling encroachment of the man yet again, the presenter as well as the audience, seemed to be taken back, yet the unperturbed high-grader of C.U was particularly insistent.

“How is everyone doin’ on this fine evenin’? Make some noise, for this jazzy night has just begun!!” A hoot followed by cheering echoed through the rainbow revitalised arena of the Cybercity square.

Yet he, who was successfully able to subterfuge the imminent firewall, had claimed his ticket to victory and the foreboding dilemma of his peers, was like a thicket, thrust into smithereens, with only a spark afire, somewhere in the deep green.

“GLIDER WITH THE BORIN’ HOODIE, SEEMS TO BE QUITE THE MYSTERY, BUT WILL HE REACH THE HYPERBOLA OF GLITCHY FIRST OR WILL HE WAVER AND STIR?”

“Present Mic, the speakers have been boosted through range energy, so, be rest assured for your voice will traverse to the abysmal depths and celestial heights, should you choose to pitch it down.”

“Aye, don’t use fanciness with me, boy. Learn the ways of the pros, because this is how ya do it.”

After crossing the hyperbola, he was confoundedly unsettled as he fended off the approaching mishaps. The malfunctions were futilely incessant and he, who had detached himself from his noxiously necessitated ‘tasks’, was embittered with affliction at his whacky misadventure. He, who deemed such experimentations as unproductive, was feeling rather misguided in his ethics and therefore, veered himself into the fathomless crevasses, forged by the sagaciously thriving enigma of the world.

The inactivity, followed by his already diminishing triumphs, stirred some incongruous words, and were spoken with mockery for self-assurance amidst the participants but, they were all too obtuse and otherwise, engrossed in the inconsistency of what they thought would be a ‘life-changer’, to validate his inherent disappearance.

Elsewhere, three teenagers stood on a toppled building, looking brazenly precarious by their unbridled surroundings. Despite the looming dangers that could throttle them very well, if they were in the possession of an ‘ordinary’ life, their stiffened faces were a little problematic, as if they were already at the edge of the world and had nowhere to go.

“Kacchan, do you think that we have made the right choice?” Soft thread-like locks rustled with the lofty breeze, as he timidly inquired.

Yet he remained speechless and uttered nothing in response to the query of his friend.

An exhausted sigh caught their attention and the third boy slightly ruffled his hair, before speaking nonchalantly as if it wasn’t something of significance, “Yes, we did, Midoriya. He won’t speak in anyone’s favour but his expression tells me otherwise. We were required to delve into the depths of ‘that’, I’d say the competition will prove to be fruitful in distracting everyone’s attention, so there’s no need to be doubtful of our choices.”

Enraged, the ashen white-haired boy grumbled outrageously at his comrades, yet he was unmistakably ruminating on something close to adversity that his worries appeared to be quite straightforward regardless of his habitual concealment, “Nonsense, those nerds are too dumb-witted to understand anything. High-graders this, high-graders that, they’re too absorbed with a vague sense of power, to see through our struggle, there’s nothing more ridiculous than a bunch of sleazy little kids, acting pretentious because of their pathetic fortune. “

“But, can we do this?”

“You have too many useless questions, just go somewhere else and leave me alone. I am going to participate in the damn race.”

“Bakugou, don’t be reckless, we need to-“

“I don’t care, I will do things my way, so get lost.” He declared outlandishly and instinctively moved towards his glider.

“The chip. You were assigned with the role of keeping it safe, I don’t think you’d want to discard your responsibilities because of your violent urges.” Todoroki pointed out, bluntly calling him ‘irresponsible’, which almost fuelled his rage to another level.

“You…”

“I will go, I can still participate and make it so that the winner who gets through ‘that’ as his prize, is unable to interfere with our plans.” Midoriya intercepted the situation as something that could be favourable to their mutual goals, and his offer was not something that they could reject.

“I will go to ‘that’, you make sure to hold your word, Deku.”

“I will.” With determination as his conclusive resolve, he took off into the nightless sky.

“And it seems like the glider with those spiky hair has exhausted his energy, I wonder how he was able to break his fall.”

“I know right, he was clearly over-confident.”

“Hey, look there, it is the famous cybero of one of the cloves.” Her friend perked up and looked through the screen.

“Is that Midoriya Izuku?” The spectators were jovial, even the boring bugs that had long entered dormancy were set alight like fireflies by the news.

“Oh, he’s a prodigy, I have always wanted to work with him.” Others pitched in and keenly observed his glider with much fascination.

“How is he able to reach that far?”

“He is a high-grader, you know, they are like that.” Someone snapped their fingers and made a ‘whoosh’ sound, causing the other to hit them.

“And now zoomin’ through the glitchy, is none other than Midoriya Izuku, of the famous three. Give him a round of applause, lads.”

Half an hour had dissipated into nothingness, as the eventual culmination was on the very brink of reaching the pinnacle, prepared to be predestined. As the world stilled to the tranquillity that had no meaning, yet seemed amaranthine, like the consistent caliginosity of an ever-flowing stream, seemingly unfettered by the inconstancy of the tides, perhaps, it was only to be dissuaded by the moon’s lambency, unrefined. The euphemistic moonlight felt magnanimous as if it could annihilate the stars, and deprive the sentient of the sanguinity of the divine. Unparalleled, though in grace, the shadows were an extension of the light, and so it appeared to be on that fateful night.

For what was a shadow, but an extension of the light, shimmering benign on the pavilion of all that could be seen, but were woes, resigned to not be perceived?

“The tides are like five bewitching embers, ebbed into me. If for five more, would I give away half of my life? But half of what is nevermore can only be a little less than half, but considered to be left at odds, unbecoming of me.”

Titillating touches of the silken tenor that he induced in his voice and his eyes, which seemed akin to thunder and twilight, weaved through a delicacy, that was left uncharacterised.

“Pardon, but do I know you?” To say that he was awestruck by his mellifluous narrative could be understated simply, for he had a familiarity, so frugal yet sincerely modest that he couldn’t help but ask helplessly.

“They say that witchcraft was from a world of Nether, the magic you sought after, magic indebted to us. Yet the world burned and burst through when the magic spread like wildfire. Though each is touched and felt as if it was an only mirror, a mirror of oneself in the midst of the misfire.”

“I do not follow…”

A low-tuned, hearty laugh burst forth as he interlocked his amethyst gaze on his figure, before speaking outright.

“It is good to compete with someone of your calibre, please accept my apologies for the riddles.”

“Oh, no need. It is my pleasure to be able to share this moment with you.” An innocently curved smile lingered just enough for him to see, before disappearing.

“A moment, you say…” He paused, wondering if he had heard it right.

“Yes?”

“Nothing else. Well, then let us be on our way.” He jeered this thumb towards the finish line and smiled, as if he was enchanted, and had been marked by a spell of some kind.

“I wish you all the best.”

“Same to you too.”

Present Mic, much to everyone’s pulsating hearts, had then decided to sweep in once again like a knight in shining ‘buffer’, and with his exaggerated descriptions and prolonged conclusions, he began, almost intuitively without leaving out the elusive details.

“And the winner will be the one to take on the ginormous lookin’ bot, stationed in the heart of glitchy. Oh, what is this, the hoodie-hoodie glider has made a comeback? Is he copying the phantom of the chrome? Ohhh, it seems like the jazzy night will be endin’ with style, are you readyyy to for the winner, everyone?”

The foggy follicles of the enrapturing glitchy had all but faded into dust, as ‘that’ diminutively appeared after rendering the smokescreen and dislocating the A-star virus, that had almost ruptured his operating screen. Commands were overwhelmingly pressurising yet the enlarged, erratically pressed bot was nowhere near their range or so it seemed to be before Midoriya had deactivated the command of secrecy.

“Is it in the state of sleep?” The gargantuan bot, which was immeasurably colossal, had magnanimously seemed to become intangible, by some cyber miracle.

But, he, was a mumbling mess, too preoccupied to discern the incisive, and naively susceptible to the very obvious.

“It couldn’t be, this place is…”

“This place is haunted?”

“No, it is the foundation of Glitzy and C.U, the disk that has encomed infinite knowledge since a millennial. Whatever we are, it is solely because of this that we were able to uproot our social differences and raise above the Wafer City, yet this, it seems to be…” Midoriya trailed off, as his face was grief-stricken by the endless possibilities and his throbbing heartbeat, was only ever so helpful in alleviating his worst fears.

Leaning back on his glider, he curiously looked around and despite the size of the indisposed bot, the building seemed to look like a hut, “This is where the winner is to be taken?” He asked, seemingly unimpressed by the overall bland sight that was so talked about.

“Yes. Their prize would be to pick an archive of their preference from the distinguished selection and temporarily store its data in their mind-chip. After grasping the initials, it would be automatically erased before anything can be salvaged. But the winner was supposed to defeat the bot yet…”

“Someone seems to have infiltrated, is what you’re thinking?”

Blinking at his bluntness, Midoriya was momentarily stunned to silence before, he recovered his senses, and inspected the bot through his energy, before widening his eyes.

“The core has been destroyed. We need to inform the high authorities.”

“Yes, of course.”

He disregarded his panicked state and had almost skipped through the glaringly prominent clue if it wasn’t for his hoodie slipping through his head.

“Wait, there’s something inscribed near the entrance…”

“Oh…how could I have missed it…” Midoriya quickly rushed back and tried to read through the strange words.

“It is written in a different language…perhaps the numeric G from the RunOver city?” He traced the words that had been inscribed through the font-ink, a specialised way of writing that was only permitted for perusal to the high graders, or those who had subsequent amounts of natural energy preserved in their cores.

“Δόλος,” Midoriya pronounced eloquently, taking him by surprise.

“You can speak the language?”

“Yes, it was somewhat mandatory. This roughly translates to Dolos, I wonder what it could be. I need to ask the grand teacher.”

“I will look for it, too.”

“Thank you, if you get any further information, please send the floppy mail to the main address.”

The green-haired boy hurried back, but he wasn’t so keen on letting him slip through, not when he was still unaware of his identity.

“And what of your name?”

“It’s…Midoriya Izuku.”

“I will be sure to you.” With hawk-like eyes, that harnessed quite the integrity, equivalent to electrocution, with their highly intensified staring, he followed his silhouette until it was already too far aft, with a cunning smile.

Somewhere in the cyber world, an authoritative voice veneered the estate with only the ominous shades of red, that were filtered through the melted lavender reminiscing of the old, rather intermittently. A young man manoeuvred his way through the intimidating dullness, that he was solely responsible for. With a flick of his wrist, he took his position on his throne, stylised to suit his taste as he toyed with something primordial.

“Prepare for the , we will be extracting the files soon.” He ordered coldly, discarding the once prized jewel, with a sneer.

“Yes, Master.”

“And, make sure that the codex chip is safely delivered to Prometheus.”

“No need for that, I am here to see what mess you’ve made out of us this time.”

Clacking shoes against the polished pavement was the only sound that was heard through, encircling the winding hallways.

“Teacher.”

“I had told you to take it easy.” The man was stern yet showed some kind of affection towards his student.

“But I did take it easy.” He smirked slyly, his one eye was ungraciously glimmering with an untold mischief that only he knew.

“Your lack of sensing the danger when you should is not a trait to be confident about, Shinsou.” He advocated but the obstinate one with an eye-patch, was unmitigated.

“You should also know that my confidence stems from my assertion over the known and the unknown despite the diabolical means that I use to chase after such apostles, dear esteemed teacher of C.U Digitalis, Aizawa.” His wit was not for the common to understand, Aizawa was certain yet he asked.

“What do you plan on doing now?”

“Changing the cyber laws to fit the vision that we perceive.”

“Most importantly, not letting them tamper with our fate, but purposely gain the momentum when they’d be at each other’s throats.” Shinsou clenched his fists as his rings clacked against each other, as if instigated by his declaration.

“You gave yourself away, by the name of Dolos.”

“And finding me will only coerce them to a crippling dilemma.”

“Deceptive indeed, your trickeries are nevertheless, the bane of being merciless.” Sighing, the teacher shook his head in resignation as his notorious student could only chuckle at his expression.

“Why, I have learned from the best. Moreover, they’d never know who Dolos is, because an illusion is only felt not seen, and a phantom like me, is as good as an instigator to a war that would turn over the tides without even our deceptive intervention.”

Emboldened desires, festered from a destitute past, had only crucified his beliefs and he, only wanted to be the domineering power that couldn’t be threatened, no matter what.

“After all, high tech, low life, is what they preached, but what of the gulf in between the lowest and the low, and the highest and the high? If the world was to be fairly divided, would the inequality survive? Foolish questions pertain to one’s immaturity over such stipulations and I, shall only play the part of the perpetrator, by not becoming one. That’s how the Dolos of Perpenditia survive.”

ᨒ*̥ᨒ⋆*̥ᨒ

. . . . . . . . .˚ೃ(‧₊˚.ꦿ)⨾ੈ . . . . . . . . . . . .

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Special Glossary-

Expendable Energy- Natural and Artificial. Natural energy is the the cyber energy since it is a cyber world and it runs on this energy alone. Artificial energy is from one’s own body, conversions of various energies that surround the nature apart from the cyber, is how it is cultivated and then used. There’s a third mysterious energy that has been vaguely mentioned due to the plot secrecy, known as deceptive energy, is the reversed form of cyber energy, in a way, negative and uses ‘forbidden cyber laws’ to be used as an active energy. In other words, it doesn’t follow the natural laws of the world and is harmful to the extent of u the natural cyber energy around the universe and exhausting it rotten. This energy is chaotic and dangerous yet a few ‘special’ owners can use it because of their blood.

Golden ratio 02- Not to be confused with oxygen but it is, kind of an oxygen or breathing way for their energy to be channeled and further used. It is a system which regulates one’s energy flow and the ratio should be maintained at all times. The ratio in question differs from person to person, and beyond this balance, if the energy is expended, it could enter dangerous levels.

RAM- Currency of Glitzy. It’s a virtualised form of currency that is transferred naturally after one is able to showcase their abilities by taking on their missions and coming up with inventions.

Recycle Bin- It means death, I am not sorry for coining such a term, the pun was intended.

Red Decimal- There are three specialised decimals that can pave the way for the cyber bugs in the C.U. Basically, the higher graders and their energies are almost close to red decimal, a specialised digit that automatically measures one’s energy flow and capability and rounds it off to the nearest decimal. However, only a few exceptional talents have been able to reach this number and only two were able to exceed it.

Illumine 1.110- Type of energy drink, it’s like boba, very energising.

Monomial, Binomial- Monomials are new, first- year cyber bugs who have ed the C.U and binomials are second years at C.U but, there are a few exceptions in this criteria.

Expectations of Java- The cyber world functions on the principles of Java and programs in every city to hub, work in balance with the stigmatised laws.

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And that’s the end of it, thank you so

much for reading. I am pretty sure that you’d

be confused with the open ending of sorts,

but it was all intended given the plot and

point of view, and the clues are all in there, let’s see if you can find them. So, if you’re interested in knowing more about the Dolos of Perpenditia, then let me know!

ˏ ࣱ۪۪̥࣭࣮ࣩࣴ｡観賀 ◦۪۪̥

ㅤ ︶︶︶ ❀

ᥒᥱ᥊t ᥴhᥲρtᥱr | ⃝᭣࿆

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:copyright: Template credits to Vivi

:copyright: Cover credits to me

#writingmatters