I followed R’s exact instructions two days later and departed for 1501 7th Avenue. It was an abandoned apartment building located in Inner Richmond. It was a bit shabby with concrete flaking off the sides of the walls. The drainage pipelining on one of the edges was clearly rusting. A couple of the windows were broken, and cobwebs filled in some of the gaps where shards of glass and dewdrops clung tightly onto the individual strings on the webs.
To ensure the driver didn’t suspect anything, I told him to drop me off at a local cafe a couple of blocks away. Though it wasn’t necessary, I think anyone would be curious about why I wanted to be dropped off at an abandoned building. It makes me seem more suspicious than I already am, being from the Tenderloin and all. As the famous saying goes: it's better to be safe than sorry.
“I guess this is it.” I sighed to myself as I stood in front of the rotting wooden door.
I tap it lightly with the back of my hand. The sound of my hand against the hollow wood lingers in the air.
Immediately, the door opens. Standing in front of me was a guy about a head taller than me. He had long dyed turquoise hair that was draped over the shoulders of his long and lanky frame—sharp facial features and gray eyes that seemed to penetrate deep inside your soul. A mole was situated under his left eye, giving him almost an artistic beauty. At this point, he wasn’t even a person anymore but one of those immaculate marble sculptures you would see in a museum. Although, he kind of looked familiar. At that time I couldn’t quite place my finger on where I’d seen him.
I stared at him blankly, completely at a loss for words to say.
“Hey,” he says lazily. “Are you just going to keep staring at me or do you have something to say?”
“Huh,” I stuttered breaking out of my trance.
“Come on,” he continued grumpily. “Spit it out. I don’t got all day.”
“Oh yes, I was told to come here by R a couple of days ago-“
Then, I was interrupted.
“Say no more-“ the turquoise-haired guy beams as he dragged me inside the building before quickly shutting the door behind me with a loud slam.
“Welcome in,” his voice now filled with hospitality. Well, he sure took a quick one-eighty. “R had informed me of your arrival, Mr. Jamison. Please, follow me.”
With a push of a button, a secret passageway revealed itself beneath the rotting wooden floor of the building.
Complying with his instructions, I followed the turquoise-haired man down the dimly lit passageway. Upon arriving at the bottom, there were metal doors lining a long hallway. Each door seemed to have a number on it.
“The numbers on the door represent your employee number. Inside you should find your work attire. Follow the instructions pinned to the closet. There will also be images to guide you too. From there, use the other door in your room to head to the meeting hall. I will meet you there in ten minutes.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
I didn’t even catch his name.
My employee number was 32040883. It wasn’t too hard to find since it was the first door off on my right side adjacent to the passageway staircase.
Pushing open the door l, I find myself standing in a room the same size as my flat. The room itself was rather basic, with a bed a desk, and a closet. On the closet was a sticky note with curvy scribbled words in sharpie and all caps that said “Uniform”.
I opened up the closet double doors to find myself face to face with a black jumpsuit, a helmet of some sort, some combat boots, a belt, and if my eyes aren’t deceiving me a gun. It magazine was fully loaded too.
Following the instructions, I put on the suit. I looked at myself in the mirror. With the switch of a button, golden lights illuminated various parts of the suit. Everyone in Delta City knew what these suits were, and that knowledge made me aware of what I had just gotten myself into.
I was officially part of Cyphius, and I was its cannon fodder.
A Cyborg.
Cyborgs are the official name for Cyphius grunts, and they do pretty much anything. If they’re told to rob banks, commit arson, kidnap, and even kill if necessary, they will do it. Though the last part rarely happens because Cyborgs are too weak to face even one-star heroes. So, in essence, we’re just lambs to the slaughter for all those heroes. Crash dummies. Human sandbags. Whatever you wanna call us. We’re expendable.
I finally understood why R recruited me and possibly others. He gives us a sliver of hope, hoping that we can pay off our debts, but the way to pay it off is essentially suicide. Cyphius was sending us off on suicide missions where the chance of us coming back unscathed was less than 10%. Plus, it's not like anyone would care about us perishing anyways. After all, everyone who was recruited must've been a piece of scum in one way or another. On the bright side of things, at least society would be much safer without us.
Well, what can I say? It was either prison along with a criminal record and a never-ending debt or working for Cyphius with a predicted forecast of suicide. As you can see, I picked the latter since I’d rather have my life end quicker rather than live one of eternal misery. But if I die now, the story ends.
We’ll see in about ten chapters if I’m still alive by then.
“Okay,” I sighed, popping the helmet on my head. Placing a finger on the button on the side of my helmet, a glowing interface revealing a similar to Umbra appeared right in front of me. “Here goes nothing.”
With no time to regret my poor life decision, I walk over to the door on the other side of the room and twist the knob.
Click.
Creak.
Goes the hinge on the door.
Suddenly, I feel my feet lock into place as if a huge magnet were attracting me, keeping my body down planted to the ground. The platform began to accelerate faster and faster until my surroundings became a blur. Yet, I didn’t feel nauseous. Was it because of the suit?
The platform sped down the tunnel a little longer before coming to a rather abrupt stop. My body flying off the platform at the same speed it traveled at. My face planting itself into the bed of dirt beneath me. Without wasting a second, I pull myself off the ground, brushing the dirt that had clung onto the skin-tight jumpsuit before clumsily scrambling to find the door right in front of me.
I twist the knob. Light filters into the dark tunnel.
Fwoosh.
Before my eyes was a room, an auditorium with flashing blue lights lining the walls made up of some black metal and rows and rows of homogeneous-looking Cyborgs like myself. All green and confused as they observed their surroundings. Towards the front of the room was a podium made from the same black metal material as the walls. On the podium was Cyphius’s infamous emblem. The glowing pixelated "C" in all its glory.
“Attention!” I hear a distorted voice command.
Everyone froze.
A hidden door scrolled itself up revealing a person wearing a Cyborg suit except it was fancier. The figure's suit had a tailcoat on it and the helmet seemed to be a lot sleeker. On the helmet, there was a larger letter “M” on it. I was at a loss for words. This figure wasn’t a Cyborg but a Cyphius Admin. It was also at that moment occurred to me that “R” was also a Cyphius Admin.
If Cyborgs were the grunts of Cyphius then the Admins would be the Bosses. There were twenty-six Cyhpius Admins, each one corresponding to the letter of the alphabet with Admin A being the most powerful of the Admins and Admin Z being the weakest. But don’t be fooled, every single admin had the power to rival at least a five-star hero. Each with their own superpower.
>>>
All Heroes are classified by a ten-star ranking. The more stars one possessed the more powerful they were and this system doesn't just apply to heroes but also to Villains and Vigilantes. Additionally, not all individuals classified as a Hero, Villain, or Vigilante necessarily have superpowers but a majority of them do. Superpower is essentially an umbrella term for all the different abilities that exist in the world. The most common superpowers include Inherited Superpowers, Stimuli Superpowers, and Trained Superpowers. Inherited Superpowers are ones that a person is born with or inherited from by their parents like S*perman. Stimuli Superpowers are those gained by accident or some other artificial source like experimentation. A good example of this is to consider individuals like Sp*derman or Cy*org. Finally, there are Trained Superpowers that are obtained by training. For instance, Magic, Mysticism, and Martial arts are examples of Trained Superpowers because one has to be under the tutelage of a master in order to learn them.
>>>
So that means R had the power to take down a five-star hero. I wonder what his superpower is.
Right next to Admin M was the handsome long-green-haired guy I met earlier. He was now dressed in a simple crisp black suit with a silver Cyphius logo pin attached to his breast pocket. In his right hand, he was holding something that looked like a tablet.
“Welcome to Cyphius!” The man with the M on his helmet cackled in a mechanical voice, his arms outstretched in a grandiose fashion. “I am the Admin of this branch, M. Next to me is my assistant and our Logistics Manager, Theta.”
Clapping arose.
So the turquoise-haired guy was called Theta.
M put his hand up, indicating silence.
“You have all been selected as a part of our fifth-generation staff. For the next week, we will be running diagnostics tests to determine your skills. Depending on how you perform, you will be assigned a specific role. That will be your role in a team you will be assigned to after the diagnostic.”
A hand shot up in the air.
M gestured over to the Cyborg raising his hand.
“Yes?”
“Are these tests deadly?” The Cyborg asked. From his voice, I believe he was slightly older than me.
“Straight to the point,” M chuckled. “No. If we put our employees in danger without proper training nor a proper assessment of individual abilities, how can we expect our organization to thrive?”
“Fair enough.”
“Now, we will be splitting everyone up. There are fifty of you here, so we’ll split everyone up into five groups. You should see a blinking number on the right side of your helmet’s interface. This number will also be directly displayed on your helmet to everyone else. Find those with the same number as you and line them up in a single file line according to the number displayed on the floor. You have three minutes to do so. Go!”
And so, that's how my first day at Cyphius started.
