My Dream

Background: Alternate Earth. 2015. In the history of the world, there have eight extremely deadly styles of martial arts - assassin arts. There were a few who would take advantage of these assassin styles (Judgment) and a few, very few, who opposed them (the Guardians). Through the work of a select few individuals, most of the world had never realized the existence of this other, super powerful, world. There are two very simple rules: 1) There are no witnesses and 2) They do not talk about this to anyone not of that world. In time, most of the ancient styles had passed into obscurity, remembered only through legend, or they still existed, but in a much diminished form. The Guardians had slowly come to view their work as unnecessary and rote, each successive generation growing more and more complacent. There were hints of the awakening of the forgotten styles, but they were mostly ignored except by a few younger members. Most believed the fight was over. They, and the world, were in for rude awakening.

Scene begins: I'm a young Guardian member, but have risen fast through the ranks based on my prowess. My wife is also a member, as well as visibly pregnant. We are walking through a town, ready to spend a nice quiet evening together (something we have been unable to do as Judgment has started to move). I had been worried recently, as I had seen some styles which I had believed long forgotten, in their most potent forms. We had already lost a few of the younger Guardians (the more active ones). However, this was far from my mind as I wished to have at least one peaceful night in my young life.

As we walk through the town, we notice a commotion. I see an old man walking, a little too smooth, something deadly in his gait. I focus in on him, reluctantly, ready to react, yet hoping it was nothing. However, a peaceful night was not to be. The old man suddenly attacks those around him and I must stop him. We fight, yet its fairly quick. The old man has very little power and his body feels weak, somehow. I come back to my wife and we realize our night is over, as we must take the old man in. However, two younger members quickly approach and offer to take the old man in themselves, as they are already planning on heading into the base. I agree and we continue our date.

We enjoy a lovely dinner and are walking back, when I notice something strange. The two agents and the old man are walking, but the atmosphere feels off. I watch carefully, but nothing explains why I'm intuitively on guard. Then, the two agents walk into a bar while the old man continues walking. I realize its too late. One of the oldest forgotten styles included forbidden techniques for puppetry of people. The two agents leave the bar and the three of them sprint past me toward a school we had just passed. I know I can't keep my wife safe and stop these three. I yell at my wife, "RUN!!", and promise I'll meet her later. However, as she runs away, I watch her, engraving her image into my mind. I whisper, "I'm sorry...I love you" and then turn and run after the three men.

I enter the school, and I'm immediately assaulted. The two junior members attack me, their eyes empty, their styles somewhat disjointed. I attempt to subdue them as quick as possible, but they do not stop for debilitating injuries. I must kill them. After their deaths, I search for the old man. I find him, and he attacks me in the middle of a massive gym. By this time, he had already attacked multiple and the alarms had been going off. I had already suffered multiple severe injuries from the previous fights, and was prepared to lose my life in defense of these people. Yet as the fight began, the puppet master seemed even weaker than before. This was too easy, something was wrong.

I soon realized he, too, was not affected by severe injuries. I broke his neck, expecting the fight to be over. However, his body stood back and leered at me. I realized I had been set up. The puppet master wasn't even there. The old man had been the first puppet I had seen. The lack of strength and speed finally made sense. The true puppet master had put me in a position where I had violated the first major rule of our world. No witnesses. As I looked around, I saw pandemonium. The high schoolers were all running around as teachers attempted to maintain some semblance of order. I knew what I had to do. I was about to violate the second rule.

I grabbed the mic and hoped this would work out. "All of you, please listen to me. I know you don't understand what you just saw. You saw an old man killed by the very person talking in front of you. You saw strange fighting, some of it too fast for you to follow. You saw a dead man walking." As I look around, everyone has stopped. They are looking at me, listening, paying attention. I'm grateful. "The world isn't as simple as you once believed. Long ago, eight assassin styles were created - their sole purpose was to destroy. The man you saw was a puppet of a master of one of those styles. A few masters, realizing the intent behind these styles, banded together to protect the world. Throughout history, you have maintained your innocence, your ignorance. However, this can no longer be. Our organization has grown weak and foolish. Theirs has seemingly spent generations building up strength. Ancient styles, once thought lost, are now appearing, their practitioners deadlier than ever and your protectors are no longer as strong as they once were. The world as you know it, is ending. I wish you all the best of luck."

I finished and step off the podium. I sit down, my wounds growing more painful. I know the end is near for me. Though my wounds would not kill me, my organization has already given up on me now that I have broken the two rules. Judgment will be coming for me.

As I wait, I don't feel any joy that I've protected the school, that no innocents were left to die. All I feel is intense anguish. I will never be able to see my son. I will never see my wife again. I wait for the end and weep.

The dream fades out.