(Shawns pov, 1st person)

The electric motor of my truck hummed as I drove back to the city. The dream still fresh in my mind, too fresh. I felt as if it was going to consume me. I had changed out of my previous outfit, I now had a black long-sleeved shirt and black boots. I also changed my pants for some long, black, cargo pants. The country soon changed to suburbs, and then shops and markets.

I passed the gym, I wanted to do something first. Driving deeper into the city, skyscrapers were popping up all around. All sorts of different cars and trucks were driving beside me as I went to my destination. I kept driving until I found it, "Geoffrey's tattoo parlor." I had looked up the place earlier, and it had very high ratings. Might as well get a tattoo, the pain might help me forget about the dream, temporarily at least.

This was something that I wanted to do even in my past life. Get a symbolic tattoo. I've always wanted a tattoo symbolizing something deep, maaayybbee humanity. Yeah, I'll get a tattoo that symbolizes the human race. Pulling up to the tattoo parlor, I took the time to inspect it further.

It had white paint coating the outside, the tattoo parlors sign was a red neon sign. In the window there was another neon sign saying, "OPEN". Exiting my truck, I walked inside. The door had a bell attached to it, so it ringed when I entered. I was met with the buzz of tattoo pens. There were multiple people already getting a tattoo of their own.

In the back of the store, I heard someone yell, "Coming!". A man quickly appeared from a door in the back. He was black, with short brown-curly hair that was turning white, and appeared to be middle aged. Though, in this world of superior medical technology, he's probably much older than he appears. Speed-walking up to me, he stopped right in front of me.

"Hello, I'm Geoffrey Jones Smith, as you can see by the sign out front."  He introduced himself. His voice sounded jolly, like an old man who had already found happiness. He raised his hand for a handshake. Shaking his hand, I introduced himself, "Shawn Rhyder Callahan, pleasure to meet you." I returned the greeting.

Exiting the handshake, Geoffrey spoke again, "So, you here to get a tattoo young man? What's your styyle, biker, lover, worker... lewd?" He punctuated the last one with a tilted head, raised eyebrows, a 'hmmm', and a smile which revealed pearly white teeth. Geoff let out a small, but jolly laugh as I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.

"C'mon, man I'm just messin' with you! Though..." He pulled me in close, like a grandpa giving his grand-kid candy. "It is an option." He whispered into my ear. "No thank you." I replied. Pulling out, I swear I could've heard him mutter under his breath, "Gosh darnit', that was my favorite!"

He started walking towards a desk to the left of me and motioned to follow. Getting behind the desk, Geoff sat down on a brown office chair and pulled some paperwork out from under it. "A regular tattoo costs around 50 units, if you want some color it'll be an extra 20. If you want some more details then look at the list behind you on the wall."

Turning around, I found the list on the opposite wall.

• Small tattoo, 30 units.
• Regular/Medium tattoo, 50 units.
• Large tattoo, 70 units.
• Glint, extra 10 units.
• Color, extra 20 units.
• Glow, extra 30 units.
• Genetic treatment, 100 units.
• Tattoo removal, 50-420 units.

My eyes flinched at the prices, I had more than enough in my savings, but it would make a dent in my bank-account. "Fuck it." I muttered under my breath. I would still be able to get by, as well as pay for the rest of my training, and it wasn't like I was going to be paying my bills for a while anyways. Though I was curious on what the genetic treatment was.

"Um, excuse me." I said to Geoff. He was reading the news on his pad while I browsed my options. He raised his head to reply, "Yes, have you made a decision on what to get?" He said with a smile. "Yes, but I'm curious about the genetic treatment option." He leaned back in his chair and replied, "That stuff is something a bit new. Genetic engineering has advanced enough for the gov to allow certified civilian businesses to use it on their customers, as a service or good. But genetic engineering hasn't become that advanced though, so it's really only useful for decorative purposes, like tattoo's."

"The genetic treatment option engrains the tattoo into your skins DNA. So it doesn't fade over time, but it's very hard to remove, and expensive." Geoff finished lecturing me. I was torn between getting it or not. It costs a lot of units, so I could save units. But units are something that I can get back over time, and the parlor had a very good rating, so I doubt they would mess up.

I gave it some thought, and like what I muttered under my breath earlier, 'fuck it'. "Having second thoughts?" Geoff asked me. To which I replied, "No, I would like to get a regular tattoo split into 3 sections on my upper left chest, each section will be divided by 3 barriers shaped like a dagger..."

Geoff was taking notes on his pad. "I would like the barriers to be silver with a glint..." I could feel my units draining out of my account already. "The bottom-right section I would like a rainbow of colors to represent humanities creativity. In the bottom-left section I would like there to be one or two planets and an astronaut floating in space, with the stars glowing blue and gold." I could picture what I wanted clearly, I could also picture my units flying away.

"For the top section I would like a red background with glowing fire, on the foreground I would like bloodied spears, swords, and guns with glint to symbolize humanities blood-lust. I would also like the genetic treatment." I got it all out. Geoff whistled, "That's quite a tall order, you sure you want that much?" Geoff sounded both worried and eager.

With some hesitation, I said yes. "OK, that'll be 210 units, sign here please." Geoff handed me his pad. I signed my name onto the blank line at the bottom-left of the pad. "OK! Let's get to work! Meet me in the back of the shop." Standing up, Geoffrey led me to my chair. On the way, I found multiple pictures of him on the wall.

It seemed that he was quite the military man, an ancient one too, as it seemed that he served when the empire was formed. I stopped looking at the pictures and focused on following Geoff. Once we made it to the back, Geoff opened the door he came out of earlier. There was an old-wooden desk on the left wall. The floor was made of checkered flooring. In the middle of the room was a single black tattoo chair. A couple of Led lights illuminated the room.

Geoff walked up to it and motioned for me to sit down. "Take your shirt off and sit down so we can get started." Said Geoff. Taking off my shirt, I walked up to the chair and sat down. I let my shirt fall down to the ground next to me. I saw Geoff go to the corner of the room. He grabbed a rolling table-stool and something to hold his pad while he worked.

He set it down next to me and said, "Just a few more things." He went to the other corner of the room and pulled a machine over to me, which was probably part of the genetic treatment. Sitting down on the stool, he put put his pad down on the stool and opened the notes for my tattoo. He then reached for the tattoo pen which was part of the chair itself.

*BZZZZZZZ* The pen flared to life as Geoff turned it on. "Ready?" Asked Geoff. "Ready" I replied. And so started the painful process of sewing a tattoo onto my chest.

(Zesshi's pov, First person)

"Mmmmnnnnn" I let out a moan as my eyes slowly opened. I must of fell asleep on my couch, whilst watching the T.V.. My vision was blurry, but my eyes adjusted quickly, revealing the roof of the basement A.K.A my room. I tried to sit up, but a pained and surprised shreak and a searing pain in my abs quickly thwarted my effort.

Looking down, I could see that my belly was still exposed. But it was as red as a tomato from all the voltage that passed through it. The electric pads were gone also. I turned my head away from the couch an found a note on the floor.

"I found you sleeping on your couch when I came down to get you some treats. Your stomach was hooked up to that thing-a-ma-gig, so I took it off you and shut it down, the T.V as well. I would like to know what you were doing, dear, the electrocuter 9000 doesn't sound like a very nice name! I'll be gone for a bit, so I left you some lasagna in the micro-wave.

Signed, Your Mother.

P.S. I love you!"

The note was flat on the floor, and close enough to read, it was also written in cursive. My face blushed a bit when I finished reading the note. Turning my head to look back up at the ceiling, I gathered enough willpower to sit up again. When I finally accomplished my goal, my eyes were wide open and a bit teary eyed.

My mom must of put my legs up on the couch, so I slid them back down to the floor. Which hurt a bit. Again I had to gather enough willpower to stand up. Which didn't take as long, as this time I used my arms to push me up. I began to get angry, why did that dude not tell me it would hurt! But a flash of pain sat me back down on the couch and nullified my anger before I did anything.

I let out a sad sigh, why was I even doing this? Aren't there other ways I can turn my life around? I can just quit, right? Yeah, I can! My lazy side began to take over my thoughts. A smile began to spread across my face as I thought about releasing myself from this training. I began to laugh from the excitement of giving up.

That was... Until I saw a picture hanging on the wall. It was me, my mom... And my dead dad. He had an average shaved face, a big smile, crystal blue eyes, and  some short blond hair. It was then that I remembered a wise quote he once said, as if he was here with me, "There is no success without pain, there is no love without pain, pain is everywhere and everything. You cannot avoid it, you can only push through it."

My eyebrows tensed in a new determination. My dad's right, pain is everywhere, and I can't avoid it by staying in my moms basement for the rest of my life. I am going to win this thing, I'm going to push through the pain. Standing up again, I started towards the stairs, holding my stomach in pain.

I am going to resume my training. But first, LASAGNA!! And maybe some pain killers. Hey, I'm going to push through the pain, does it matter what I use to do it with?!

(The Machines pov, 3rd person)

The machine was fully repaired, the repair station did its job well. Once the machine stepped out of the station, the Ghost stepped in, eager to repair itself as well. The machine raised its head, observing the room once again. It might as well investigate the room before it resumed its path.

Its lone, green, rectangular eye settled on the most-likely upgrade station. It started towards the new station, curious about its function. As the machine reached the metallic bed underneath the industrial, robotic arms, the machine laid its hand on it. It was obviously big enough for the machine to lay down on it.

It decided to do so. Laying down underneath the hanging arms of the upgrade station, it suddenly flared to life. The machine expected this. The arms reached down to the machine, inches away from its chassis. But they suddenly stopped. A holographic screen appeared in front of its artificial eye.

The machine was confused. What are "projectiles"? And what's "weaponry"? It didn't know what the upgrade station was going to do, but it sounded beneficial to the machine. And all the repair stations didn't do anything bad to it, so wouldn't it be the same with this kind of station?

After some thought, the machine decided to go ahead and "install" the upgrade. It didn't know what install meant, but it probably was just another word for 'confirm.'

The station seemed to read the machines mind, because as soon as the machine made up its mind to install, the station suddenly flared to life again. This startled the machine, but not as much as feeling something enter the back of its head. Was it something similar to its own interface plug? The machine didn't even know it could be interfaced with.

Warnings started to pop up on the machines HUD. It tried to get out of the thing, but its limbs wouldn't move. The robotic arms moved quickly, opening the "skull" of the machine. The machine itself could do nothing but watch, or just feel the station taking apart and putting the machines head back together.

This whole process took less than thirty seconds. Once it was done and the station disconnected from the machine it instantly dove away from the station. It felt fear once more, from a combination of confusion, surprise, and unknowingness. The warnings on the machines HUD were replaced with a single notification.