Introduction

Have you ever really thought about happiness? It’s often associated with the feeling of elation and is typically viewed as the most desirable (or “purest”) product of an activity or relationship. From a strictly scientific standpoint, these are chemical signals that motivate us to create communities and keep ourselves alive. However, if we speak in a modern sense, what is its purpose? If emotion is outdated, will our next major evolutionary advancement exclude them?

Loneliness and anxiety potentiate mental illnesses. We’ve advanced to a point where human nature is obsolete, but stepping back, stopping, or even just slowing down goes against the fundamental drive of our existence. If humankind is anything like me, then we are malcontents—vain, insignificant little monsters furiously trying to quantify a boundless void. Some of us build our own boundaries, and when others accept it (because they almost always do), it becomes a society.

Society is complex but finite; it can be understood, manipulated, and improved, but (in most cases) becomes so large that many will confuse it with reality. Now, we have to put our heads in the clouds just to see past this chocolate-glazed culture. Ignorance is bliss because it’s always overflowing with stagnant knowledge, but a dynamic glass is never full.

Don’t judge me, I can make a metaphor if I want to. All the cool people are doing it. A “fun” observation I made was the abundance of metaphors nowadays: they aren’t being used as a tool to better explain concepts, people add them to… wait for it… sound cool. If you plan on using a metaphor before even forming the concept, then you will burn forever in literary hell. Welcome to my world. I hope my struggles brings you pleasure.

Chapter 3

Did anyone else see that?

The space mask was really… really big. Its size was adjustable but only around the neck, ranging from bobble- to air-head. Unfortunately, neither of those sizes were enough to create an airtight seal, so I was forced to rig up my own semi-space suit using whatever materials were available. Well, I say “forced”, but honestly, this is like a dream come true for me. Dead silence, tools I don’t know how to use, and a problem that needs fixing is the perfect recipe for a fantastic failure (the good kind, with explosions).

Looking over the helmet, I noticed its one-way reflective facepiece also functioned as a medium for the internal computer’s display. Upon placing it on my head, an array of green, yellow, and red images appeared, which I assume are the colors used to represent a descending order of importance (respectively). They analyzed my surroundings and reported lists of information that I wasn’t able to fully understand, but there were a few visual breakdowns that I could use.

I removed the helmet (which was surprisingly light) and placed it on the ground next to me. Rolling on my side, I was able to determine its gross outer structure, which made me heavily consider isolating the mouthpiece but soon decided against it. I didn’t want to inadvertently destroy such a valuable item. If the AI is advanced enough, I might be able to use it as a translator or even a source of information about some of the more delicate technologies in this pod. At least for the moment, keeping it in one piece is a must… the weapon outside, however…

I shook my head and refocused my attention on the task at hand. “Let’s see… I need some cloth, first.” I spoke to myself, which helped to order my thoughts. I glanced around for a moment, pausing only when my eyes rested on the large, comfortable bedcovers next to me… I shook my head, “Nope.”, then searched for an alternative.

Facing down the pod longways, I scanned the various doors and personal hygiene(?) chambers that I had yet to experiment with (since I’m about to head out again) running along the wall to my left. The wall on my right was actually a massive screen that I had no idea how to work yet, but it will definitely become a project in the near future. Then, of course was the organizer, which… hang on.

I stood, then walked back across the poorly placed mattress to where my meal was left unattended just a few moments ago. There are eight more boxes full of mysterious objects, some of which has to be laundry, right? Space-military grade fabric would be a fantastic addition to my home-made post-apocalyptic wanderer’s suit. Eagerly, I grabbed the box on the bottom row, which was right next to the one that had been miraculously filled with food.

***

One by one, I unraveled the mysteries of the alien’s organizer, celebrating each new discovery with descending amounts of enthusiasm. It’s not that I was any less excited, but a bunch of little “discoveries” tend to become one big “discovery” near the end. Anyway, here’s what I found:

Two fulls sets of military uniforms Two full body elastic suits Gloves/Socks/Hats/Etc Weird tech stuff Three orbs and a lot of metal cylinders Spare metal parts (non-electronic) Food Water Spices/Herbs/Stuff

I was extremely impressed with how much could fit in such tiny crates, especially the custom-designed containers (meaning they only had green and yellow buttons) that compacted clothing. I returned the top right box to its proper place, then took one step left before sliding out the one containing skinsuits.

With a metallic scrape, it fell off the shelf and hovered over the ground as my frail body tried to hold it up. This was only momentary, and soon after, it was on the ground in front of me, openly displaying its contents. I counted ten (of varying sizes) in total, and you know what? The smallest one looked to be around my size, though it didn’t have a helmet to match.

Letting it all hang out might be refreshing in different circumstances, but since I’m wandering through a wasteland full of irritating dust and (apparently) giant alien soldiers, I gratefully shoved my skinny ass into that skinsuit. Unfortunately, the alien’s helmet still wouldn’t fit on my head, and I had no idea what any of the “weird tech stuff” did yet, so I was forced to use a few sharp edges to modify the design (with a little help from the excess suits).

I won’t bore you with a drawn-out walkthrough of my failures and successes with this miniscule project, just know that it took me three hours to reach the final product.

I used an oval hotplate from the Wall of Self-Care (where all the hygiene(?) stuff is—I just named it because no one’s here to call me crazy) to temporarily splice extensions onto the suit and connect it to the helmet. Yes, I did this while wearing it… the only hole in the suit is where my head sticks out, how else am I supposed to—nevermind, I said I wouldn’t bore you with useless details.

Now, dressed as Zero-Suit Spaceboy (bobblehead edition), I stumbled out to greet a fading gray sky and the colorless sea of ashes that reminded me of… many things. Oh god, resist the flashback! I remember falling in love with a girl. Her name was—no! I reject the cliché! She gave me half of her—Urg.. jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the—way back then, things were so… peaceful—who’s life is this!? Aren’t I supposed to see my own life? Mah dear Salleh, it’s been awhal since lil Timmeh wuz tak’n by Mareh Pawpin—wait… I kind of wanted to see how that one plays out… Oh well.

Free of the plot-relevant hallucinations, my thoughts turned to the lightsab—I mean, the totally different and unique laser broadsword. Luckily for me, the transparent helm identified and highlighted it, so it wasn’t long before my hands once again outlined its perfectly crafted metallic surface. “Finally, it’s time to open you up and see how you tick.”

Just then, a portal appeared. An oval swirl of blue fire penetrated both time and space, and through it appeared two figures; the first, tall and draped in a concealing black robe while the other was slightly shorter than me… and dressed in blue Star Wars themed pajamas. The inferior’s thick glasses, bog nose, and tightly curled hair looked like something out of a cartoon… oh, yeah, and he was probably about thirty years old.

In stepped the first figure, closely followed by the second. Both were facing a different direction and didn’t see me gawking through my techno-globe, so I opted to remain a quiet observer in hopes of finding out more.

“Th-Thh-Thpirit, what ith thisth plassth?” The man lisped, his free hand relieving the lump beneath Chewbacca’s face of an itch as he did. The tall figure looked down upon the man, looming over him in an impressive display of power, then silently raised a skeletal finger towards the wasteland. The man became distraught, and began pulling at Mr. Spirit’s robes in desperation, “Tell me, are theth the thingth that will be, or are they what may be, only?”

Mr. Spirit didn’t move. The man fell to his knees and began crying, shamelessly revealing all emotions as well as a retainer (the most likely culprit for his lisp), “Pleath, apparithion! I’ll change! I promith! I’ll do what the otherth thed and move out of my momth apartment! I’ll buy my own Poptarth and-“ the man was cut off with a wave of Mr. Spirit’s hand, vanishing without so much as a sound.

The cloaked figure let out a sigh, one that carried the exhaustion and frustrations of many lifetimes with it, “I lost one bet—one goddamn bet with death, and now this is my eternity.” He shoved two fleshless hands deep in the folds of his robe, then turned back to the portal. “’Specialize’ they said; ‘It’s a great opportunity’ they said…” and with that, the apparition skulked off into the portal (which closed behind him), never to be seen again.

I… okay. Um… I guess I’ll just… keep going? My brain had been tied into a pretty little bow trying to rationalize what just happened, so I shrugged it off and gripped the weapon’s handle tightly. With a short heave, I lifted it up to my chest, then slowly shuffled back to the pod carrying a long-awaited prize and a… new experience.

I reached my new home, pressed the small green light on its surface, tossed my new toy onto a prepared cloth (to keep ashes off the mattress), and jumped in after it, closing the overhead door behind me. What? You didn’t know I was so well-prepared or that I now open and close the door regularly? Well, then, maybe you should tell Mr. Author to stop skipping the monotonous parts just to add in everyone’s favorite man-child (one that you don’t know and leaves quickly) and the spiritual embodiment of ‘man’s best fear’. I also figured out where the toilet was and how to work it.

I rolled my eyes, then moved on with my life (which should’ve been the title of my story, but whatever). I used a rough metal edge to cut an exit in the suit’s front, then carefully slid the top half of my body out. The room was silent, save for the almost deafening rustling of my own movements as I repeatedly tried (and failed) to open the weapon’s base.

It turns out, these weren’t initially designed to open... ever. Fortunately, even design will relent to this laser-edged butcher-knife I found in one of the drawers. I carved the handle down its seam (I think), then opened it to reveal… only three pieces? I stared, awestruck as a sudden realization dawned on me; if this is it, I could easily make my own weapons!

Naturally, I spent the next three days making one custom weapon after another, even returning to the ashen world outside to scavenge alien saliva that, when heated, turns into plastic. This material acted as a foundation for countless unconventional designs and was heavily relied upon during my armor’s next stage of development: head and neck support. Now, I could even run if it becomes necessary (though I still look like the moon grew a body), though turning my head is… impossible. It’s definitely not battle-ready, that’s for certain.

Ah, right. How do these laser-based weapons function? What is the source of their boundless energy and how can it be manipulated so easily? Find out next time.

Meh, it’s the next paragraph, so what the hell:

The source is an orb that’s about the size of a softball. It has some kind of clear membranous layer that retains the spherical shape, but the center is a small green gem that appears to contain an abundance of energy. A wire that connects it to a regulator, which (when the weapon is activated) pulls energy from the orb and releases it in the form of a laser. That laser reaches about ten feet, then disappears for absolutely no reason (so, no laser guns… yet).

Postscript

There are a couple of other rules, but that’s the main idea. Also, I found three more orbs as well as several regulators in the organized containers a while earlier, making a grand total of four potential weapons. You probably would’ve found all of this out over one or two chapters of creation, but after I tried to inspire a miniature rebellion against Mr. Author, he decided to flex his power in a way that is both weird and annoying (at least to me).

It doesn’t really matter, though. Of course, everything we believe to be “productive” is actually just an act of futility with a societal buffer, but even subject to my story… it doesn’t really matter. What really matters is comfort; I’m getting far too comfortable. Do you know what authors do to comfortable main characters? That’s right, he will likely (1) add a villain or (2) create a pretty girl that I can’t ignore or kill (for some reason or another). I’m crossing my fingers for an easy introduction villain who’s easy to hate and even easier to kill.

Well, I’d better get to work… oh, god—what am I going to do if it’s a girl?

Laser Broadsword Design

Regulator Blade Handle Orb Regulator Blade