Alphonse could feel people walk past him, the gentle nudges of their jackets brushing up against him, or the odd kick against his tattered shoes. Despite that, he couldn't feel any of it. His arms rested up against the blanket that covered his knees. Now and then, the sound of coins clinking up against each other would sound out from the tattered paper cup that lay beside him. It wasn't his choice to beg. Rather, it was the cards that fate had given him.

Alphonse's eyes glued to one spot. It was nothing in particular. He just refused to move them.

"You're a murderer, Alphonse."

It was a voice he was used to. He heard it every day and every night. The young man's hands trembled.

The scenery around distorted and shattered, like glass under too much pressure. Soon, his unfocused vision disappeared completely. The young man, sitting on the hard, cold concrete ground. Covered in a rancid blanket, vanished from the spot.

< Project 03 commencing… Translating power levels to accommodate Earth 014 inhabitants… Translation complete, opening character profile. >

The angelic voice entered Alphonse’s brain. It was like he had plugged his earphones in too far, creating an ear piercing thumping sound within.

He couldn’t see, but he was scrunched up in a ball on what he hoped to be a floor clutching at his eardrums. The voice threatening to blast them open. It was a jolt that woke him up from his long daydream... his suffering.

< Adjusting volume for Object 2042. >

“An object?” Alphonse questioned the voice inside his head. Before he could complain further, a screen popped open in front of his eyes.

[ Name Alphonse Khastal ]

Class: None

Traits: Hunger

Skills: None

Attributes:

Strength: 4

Dexterity: 7

Constitution: 5

Intelligence: 5

Wisdom: 6

Charisma: 3

Alphonse placed his hand to his chin as he leaned in to look at the stats, not that it made the picture inside his head any clearer. He wasn’t sure if it was accurate, because he couldn’t be certain if his dream was pulling his leg or not.

“3 charisma? That’s quite rude, angel voice thing and how can hunger be a trait?” It baffled him. Usually people had things like sword mastery or something awesome.

I can’t even be cool in my dream? The thought stung a little.

< Your attributes and status are based on your own personality and unique DNA. I have no control over them. Updating information. >

[ Hunger: You have a very high metabolism that requires constant food consumption. You have experienced what it's like to suffer through starvation and the pain that goes along with it. Hunger is a part of you. ]

< Teleporting Object 2042 to Garden of Eden. >

Alphonse blacked out. The raucous sound of clapping jolted him from his slumber; bright lights shone at him from many directions as soon as his eyes opened. He placed his hand just above his eyes, blocking the light, and looked at his surroundings. He felt a pit in his stomach as he was currently standing within an enormous group of people, all collectively turning their heads as they took in the surrounding sights. Alphonse knew it was in the thousands, at least. His eyes shifted from the crowd he was in and drifted upwards, where seven people sat in high chairs on top of a platform. Big red curtains lay bunched up on either side as golden tassels kept them in place. Their clothes looked magnificent, especially the man in the centre. He was wearing a long white coat that was adorned with golden metal.

This isn’t a dream, is it? That thought immediately surfaced in his mind. If before it wasn’t clear, it definitely was now. It all just felt too real.

The clapping came from the men standing underneath the platform, some wearing a plain green uniform and others wearing a more impressive dark navy uniform with a beret on top of their heads. The clapping obviously wasn't for them. Their heads looked up at the platform in reverence.

The seven figures stood up, and the clapping stopped as all the soldiers bowed towards them.

A frightening aura left his body, it was faintly visible through the air as it travelled towards them. Alphonse felt an immense pressure bear down on his body, like gravity had increased around them. Some of the weaker people had already collapsed under the pressure. Alphonse’s legs were about to give way, but he bit his lips hard enough to make blood gush into his mouth. Sweat covered his forehead as his face turned scarlet red. He didn’t know how the figure up high was doing it but he refused to kneel, just the thought of it made him sick to the stomach. It repulsed him.

Alphonse wasn’t aware of it, but the seven figures above looked at Alphonse in surprise, especially a tall woman. She was the only one above that wasn’t in uniform, only wearing a form-fitting leggings, t-shirt and bomber jacket lay over the top of her strong shoulders. She left her long wild hair to hang, cascading down her back. Her lips lifted upwards as she watched his immense struggle.

***

“He seems to have a strong will, Esdeath.” A hulking man smirked at the woman sitting next to him.

“Who gave you permission to talk to me?” Her devilish grin disappeared as her clear eyes glanced over the barbarian-like man. He averted his eyes and sat ramrod straight in his chair, then glued his eyes to the front, not daring to let his eyes wander in her direction. Sweat spread across his back. The others snickered as they witnessed the barbarian became a frightened little lamb.

“My name is Admiral Kaiser, the one in charge here, and I welcome you all to the Garden of Eden. You have been chosen to protect the various planets throughout the Myriad Solar System." The admiral said, his eyebrows as sharp as the sword strapped to his side. "You will be tasked with missions of various difficulties, saving those who don't have the strength to save themselves." He paused for a moment before continuing.

"You'll split up into classes based on your strengths and taken to your accommodations. You are not free here. From this day onwards, you are all soldiers, and the punishment for refusing an order is severe.” With that, the figures of the seven left their seats, disappearing into the void.

The silence broke, people began shouting and cursing. They were kidnapped and awoke to this absurd situation.

“What the fuck is this? Let us go home!” The cries became louder than more and more people took part.

“Silence!” A man in a dark navy uniform walked forwards; golden pauldrons adorned his clothes, differentiating him from the other soldiers.

The force of the shout caused everyone to be quiet, but there was always going to be one that stuck out. He walked up to the officer, his large muscles rippling underneath the spotlights above, a testament to his hard work in the gym.

“Take us back or else.”

“Or else what?” The officer smiled at the intimidation attempt. Alphonse suspected the officer's confidence. He was unarmed and the person in front of him was a huge bodybuilder. The difference was obvious in his mind.

The bodybuilder reacted to the provocation by thrusting his hand forwards, attempting to clutch the officer's throat.

In the next second, all Alphonse could see was a huge amount of red mist. The man's head was vaporised from his body as he was still standing. He did not know how it had been done. It was far too fast. As the body hit the metallic ground, it startled them awake. The frightened newcomers took a few steps back as they maintained silence. The limp body on the ground, a terrifying reminder of disobedience.

What the fuck is happening to me? Alphonse’s lips turned up into a sardonic smile; blood splattered his face and clothes. The stench of urine from people standing next to him singed his senses while they held their mouths shut in terror, in fear of making any noise.