Welcome to America (2/4)

Straightening my postures, I stand in command towards my superior officer. Or at least what I believe to be my superior, Not!Satan might not have a military rank, but he was the one who requested the mission and I accepted it, which made him my temporary boss after all.

The action was out of instinct, having done this for the last six years since my eight-year-old self quickly learned that showing respect will not incentivize corporal punishment.

"Reached area of engagement an hour and thirty-four minutes ago. I first made contact with a native who seemed to carry some type of enhancement technology with her, followed by a red brute." My words came in Arabic, I doubt that a being like Not!Satan would be troubled by different languages. The eye that had been hovering in space finally seemed to look directly at me, this time focusing on my words unlike before.

"Brute was accompanied by a sniper, I tracked her down and subdued her, then used her weapon to kill him." Not!Satan's eyes were shaking, in a motion I was vaguely sure resembled laughter. "With both hostiles down I went in search of the Siberian, the one wh-"

"How do you know her name?" the phrase was abrupt, and I forced myself to stop talking as soon as the eye intent spiked on me.

"Striped woman, reminds me of a Siberian Tiger, sir." I answer honestly, before frowning "Don't know what a tiger is."

The eye stopped focusing on me, mostly because I'm sure that even as the eye locked into my person, it was looking at something much deeper than anything I could perceive. A sense of cold went up my spine as if I was being observed underneath a microscope, trying to see how I ticked.

"…ha..hahaha…hahahahahaha! You- You absolute-" He couldn't finish his words since another burst of laughter came out of his throat, or whatever Space Satans had for throats.

"You don't even realize it, do you? Is the second one taking a ride?" When I don't answer, since I had no idea what the fuck he's talking about, the room shakes once more as a bellowful laughter escapes the entity.

"Ah, that was a great laugh, haven't felt this good since the Molluscs." Once again, referencing something I had no idea of, however, I stayed in position, poker face with absolutely no intentions of interrupting whatever nostalgic trip down memory line Not!Satan was going through.

...hmm? What is a memory lane?

Weird, but ultimately unimportant, as I continued to wait for my current employer to bring the topic back around while staying quiet and unmoving, it was a useful skill when dealing with people, always listening, always silent, it makes them talk to feel the air, and with it comes information.

"Whatever, I got the gist kid. Well done, I honestly thought you would have died within the first encounter!" Finally, his singular eye once again focused on me, this time I could see the amusement fade away and in a serious tone he asked.

Also, he expetected my death so soon? If I had any pride at all I migth even feel a slight bit annoyed, but now its just confusion.

Why would you send someone to die? That is such a watse of resources.

"Your mission has been completed soldier. Your next? Live this life how you wish, go serve another person, go kill as many people as you want, save as many as you can. I will be watching, always observing." His voice became more and more eldritch as he spoke, and soon he was directly upon me, the small crack from before now encompassing the entire room.

"I can't wait to see how you live, Storm."

Space twisted, for a single second I could see past the multiple layers addorning reality, and gaze into a level never before seen by another human. It was as madenning as it was beautiful, as horrifying as it was awe-inspiring, and from the multiple cracks emcompassing the glassy layers of unkown, a tiny piece of reality is separated, falling directly into my hands. 

I know this tiny piece is greater than anything I have ever seen. Before I realize color has returned to the room, the clock on the wall behind me starts to tick again.

Not!Satan had stopped time for the talk? How absurdly powerful, but then again I should have expected as such for the main antagonist of the bible.

I can feel it, this tiny piece of cracked reality, it would grow and become something more.

So this was my reward. How interesting.

While I was contemplating the words given by Abaddon, I stared at the small piece of glass in my hands, it was small yet it held immense potential, or at least that's what my instincts were telling me and I haven't been led astray once.

…Well more than two times.

After musing, the glass shatters in my hand, becoming a sprinkle of multicolor dust and seemingly sinking into my skin.

Huh, weird.

The door is abruptly kicked open, and a loud boom comes out of the action.

My body was already in motion, grabbing the table and flipping it on its side making sure that my chained hands would be tugged so I could safely dislocate my fingers and hopefully counter-react fast enough for whatever enemy attack this was.

The plan, of course, stopped when a hand grabbed the table and unceremoniously placed it down in a single fluid movement.

I wouldn't have cared and continued fighting if it wasn't for the face on the other side of the table.

"Noro?"

"This my welcome after you ditched me brat? Show some respect." She growled the words out at me, slopily sitting herself down. Folders made of strange synthetic material I hadn't seen before were place on top of the table.

She looked vastly different than before, gone were the scars and her short hair. In fact, she looked slightly younger now, with a more youthful look.

(Picture here)

"Different," is the only word I speak, tilting my head in curiosity.

While some people hated the fact that I spoke little, or how my face had no indication of what it meant, somehow Noro was still able to understand me perfectly based on our last conversation.

"Yeah, I know. Changer 1 behind my brute force there are some slight adjustments I can make, like mask injuries and scars. Thanks to that, I don't need a mask, can walk around in my civilian wear pretty easily." While explaining this she lounged in her chair, balancing it back into its two legs and closing her eyes while doing so.

I simply hum in reply. Wonder what type of technology can mask such prominent scars and burns, could it potentially also be used for infiltration?

"Anyways, I'm asking the questions here 'Storm'" She spoke, emphasasing my name, while curling her fingers in a weird motion, I felt slightly cofused by her actions.

The motions were a pair of quotation marks gestured by a speaker's fingers in the air, to indicate that what is being said is ironic or mocking, or is not a turn of phrase the speaker would typically employ.

...again, more information I didn't know.

But at least now I knew what she meant. Hmm, mocking maybe? Mocking my name? Maybe because it was a generic as per her words when you first met?

Of course, my musings stop once she glares my way, "If that even is your name since you didn't exist until two hours ago."

Oh, yeah, how to explain this?