Sonnir

Where in the world am I?
A boy finds himself floating alone in the vastness of space. He’s wearing blue designer jeans, a white button up shirt and a black tie that’s mostly covered behind a black cardigan vest. Despite completely lacking a spacesuit to keep himself alive, he neither seems to be dying nor does he really notice the fact that he isn’t wearing one. He quickly looks around, finding bright and vibrant green nebulae around him and below him a planet. The planet appears to be earthlike, but is nothing from the Sol System at all, with only three continents and a peppering of numerous islands along with a few specs of light flying in high orbit around the planet.

Opposite of this strange, alien world is a bright object that approaches him at a rapid pace. As it comes closer, the boy has a harder time looking at the object, seeming to have eldritch qualities to it. His mind blanks after staring directly at it for longer than a second. The "Being" as that was all he can really describe it as comes to a stop about twenty feet or so in front of him. It appears to be examining the boy, judging him for all that he is worth. The boy braves another look from the bottom up. From what he can tell, the Being has a glowing white body resembling that of a beautiful woman, but any attempt he makes at looking at the face only resulted in him looking away from it. It’s as if ‘her’ face is beyond any human comprehension. The being speaks, though through the boy’s head instead of directly to him.

"You aren't quite ready to hear what I must tell you. You're still too innocent. However, know that within the day, your life and those of several others will be changed against your will. Do not despair though, you will not be alone." ‘she’ says to him, ‘her’ voice reverberates both literally and metaphorically in his head. The boy’s only reaction is confusion to the Being’s statement. A large and tragic event isn’t something that would probably target him. After all, there are far more higher profile people out there who make for a better target.

    “W-who are you? And where am I?” he asks her. The boy can from what body language of the ‘woman’ he can look at seems to be a bit hesitant for a moment before she speaks up in his mind.

    “My name is not for human ears to comprehend, but you may call me The Guiding One. If you do come under the wrath of the woman I believe you will, I shall be your guide through it.” was her response. The boy just stares as much as he can stare at her.

    “Why me? I know I have parents who are loaded, but I’m not special really.”

    “Her choices do not target based on race, gender, or any other physical, cultural or monetary qualities. It is purely random, just like the powers she possesses.” Another voice then enters his head.

    “Andrew. Andrew Bradwater. Please wake up. You will be late” this new voice is mostly monotone with minor fluctuations, almost robotic but strangely very human as well. The voice snaps him into a more lucid state, and he notices the lack of a spacesuit on him and being able to talk in space. It’s just a dream after all.


It’s at this moment that the 15-year old boy wakes up out of his bed. The kid is the son of two wealthy businessmen who run the Bradwater Technologies Corporation, an industry giant in the Corporate Union of America and a member of the country’s Board of Directors. The company specializes in mostly civilian and some military small arms, but has recently started to branch out into combat robotics. Their latest expansion has caused a corporate rivalry to sprout up between Bradwater Technologies and Mars-based Xantech Industries, who specializes in robotics both civil and military. However, despite his parents’ wealthy status, both he and his older sister Elcia have been sent to public school more oriented toward middle class families since they’ve first gone to school. His parents see it as experience for when he later takes over the business if his sister decides not to. He looks around.

The room is primarily a clean white color with black accents and trim. Most of the objects in the room scream class and money from the tiny trim to the closed window blinds that hide the massive cityscape from his view. He looks a little bit up toward the source of the sound.  On the wall lays a large the holographic screen, there’s a person on the screen, a female with grey hair in a pageboy cut and red eyes. She appears to be around 20 years old and wears a blue bodysuit with red trimmings, showing off her lithe build. Perfect for a fitness junkie, or in her case, a combat frame. Finally achieving a state between “awake” and “five more minutes”, Andrew Bradwater rubs his eyes and yawns.