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Omnificial

What happens when you're pushed to the limits? When you're driven to madness? When everything in your life goes to shit? You beat your problems down to the ground relentlessly! First time 'Pilot', Danny Steele, enters an underground fight club filled with gangsters and brawlers to earn money for some grub. But this is no ordinary fight club, this club has mastered the use of technology! Through the power of 'Omnishells', these fighters named 'Pilots' are able to channel their strength into their own individually modeled robots and fight one another without being physically damaged! They're able to feel every drop of pain through advance nerve-simulation technology, making it no easy feat to be the strongest 'Pilot'. Through pain and hard work, Danny Steele climbs up the ranks and redefines what it means to be a 'Pilot'. But Danny Steele has something up his sleeve, his admittedly rather special 'Omnishell' has something off about it... It's being controlled by a living organism?

BottledAnger · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
22 Chs

Danny (1)

"Shit!" Red lights flicker as Danny flashes between conscious and unconscious. He could feel the blood slowly seep into the crevices of his brain. His head had split open as his eyes blurred with red.

"Must...fight!" Danny screams as he slowly moves his body. He's inside a chamber, filled with water from the skin on his toes to the tallest strand of hair on his head. Even though Danny had his eyes closed in this chamber, he could see flashing red lights and the shimmer of metals in the crowd. He was overwhelmed with everything, he could feel his own body start to shut down and collapse, losing strength in his feet. "Fight!" Danny raised his head and looked at his opponent.

He was inside a boxing ring, a massive light shined on the mat that was painted with a black liquid, and his hands were stuck inside bright red boxing gloves, stained with the same black liquid. "Fight!" Danny screamed over and over in his head as he charged forward, his vision turning black and everything went dead silent.

The once loud cheers of the audience had gone still, each and every one of them bracing for impact. "Shit." Danny couldn't see anything but he could feel a massive sharp pain in the side of his jaw, a massive fist had imprinted itself into Danny's physical body inside of the chamber. The fist connected with Danny's face and ripped his head off, tearing off the muscle and bone that connected his neck to his torso, causing the same black liquid to spill all over the mat.

x x x x x

"Agh!" Danny rose from his bed and sat up immediately, his head started painfully pulsating and his neck felt sore. "Son of a bitch!" Danny cursed as he ran his fingers down the back of his neck, he could feel each individual vertebra composing his spine. The sound of whirling blades above him caught him by surprise, looking around he realized he had just awoken from a nightmare.

His room was empty yet cluttered, random posters and weird ornaments hung on strings around the room. A massive couch faced a broken television, its screen cracked and chunks of it missing.

"Good Morning Danny Steele." A robotic-sounding voice reacted to Danny's sudden jerk.

"Oi!" Danny turns to his right, looking over to his desk as a hologram of a woman rotates back and forth. "Shut up!" Danny drags his words as he falls back into bed, his hands still on the back of his neck.

Danny thinks to himself, "Another bad dream, can't be healthy for me."

"Danny Steele, are you awake?" A machine rolled into Danny's peripheral, a white metal box with a screen attached. On the screen was a smiley face. "You should know it's not good to sleep in," It spoke with a metallic and tone-death voice.

"Yeah," Danny rubs his eyes and sits back up, the soreness in his neck had started to fade. "What time is it Maquina?" Danny turns and looks at his desk. On his desk was a white box with a black circular disk spinning around.

"The time is 7:43 AM." A hologram of a woman appeared, she had a blank expression but her mouth opened whenever she spoke.

"If you want I can brew you a cup of coffee before you go to work." The robot recommends Danny.

Danny turned and looks at the robot. --"It's fine, Mijo."-- and started getting out of bed. He slipped into a pair of slippers underneath his bed and placed his hand over the white box, closing the hologram of the woman. He yawned as he leapt out of bed, stretching his arms and ligaments.

"Another day, another opportunity," Danny whispered to himself. "You're going to do something great today." Danny walks over to his closet and picks out the first things he sees, a plain grey shirt with a pair of blue jeans and a blue tie. He walks over to his curtains and pulls them apart, the dust resting on the curtains falling to the ground.

The view from his window was astounding, bright lights and flashy colours filled the streets of Cathode City. A hustling and bustling cityscape of the richest and the poorest, all mashed and cramped between massive large skyscrapers. Danny looked on at the early morning crowd with a gleeful look on his face, ready for what the day was going to bring.

He walks over to his desk which was a bunch of magazines, filled with half-naked women wearing seductive lingerie. He opens up his drawers and takes out a vinyl, placing it into his vinyl recorder. He moves the needle all the way out to the exterior of the vinyl before letting go, allowing the needle to scratch the surface of the vinyl. The needle moves back and forth slightly before calibrating itself and starts playing a small tune.

Danny starts moving along to the beat, his footsteps synchronized with the beat of the drums, his fingers slid past one another creating a snap sound on each snare. He hums along to the melody of the song, sliding his fingers up and down an imaginary guitar. He slides his feet across the carpet, inching closer to his mirror.

He looks up and sees his own reflection, a sleep-deprived twenty-four-year-old man staring back at him. On the bridge of his nose was a massive scar. Messy unkempt hair that was slowly losing its blue pigment tied with large dark eyebags with concerningly droopy eyes caused by sleep deprivation created the perfect package. He glides his hands across his greasy hair and flicks it back and forth, shaping it into place.

He groans as he wears his grey shirt, ripping off his pyjamas and sliding into his new clothes. Unbuttoning his pants, he wore his new fresh pair of jeans that hadn't seen the inside of a washer for years. He picked up his pre-tied tie and throws it over his head, tugging on the small bit below the main tie to adjust it.

He raises both of his hands, creating finger guns before cornily shooting himself with his index fingers, smiling at the mirror. He pauses for a second before he takes a deep breath in, then exhaling. "It's only an interview."

He walks around his room, opening up the fridge to take out a small carton of milk. "It's only an interview." He mutters to himself as he opens up his cabinet, taking out a box of cereal labelled 'Space O'dyssey'. "It's only an interview." He pours the cereal into a bowl on his kitchen counter, filling it to the brim with his milk. "It's only an interview." He places a spoon inside of the bowl, causing milk to splatter out and drip down on his kitchen counter.