Chapter 63: 0.1: An Ominous Prelude, ’his’ story
Chapter 63: 0.1: An Ominous Prelude, 'his' story
~Year 2001, South Aristotel, Crystal falls—Mindful Balance Counseling Office—
Set within an opulent room, the exquisite white marble floor radiated an aura of pristine elegance.
Adorning the walls were coats of pure white paint.
Nestled in the left corner of the room stood a wooden shelf, filled to the brim with a vast collection of diverse and intriguing books.
At the farthest corner of the room was a glass office table, meticulously arranged with an array of stress balls, fidget toys, miniature figurines, and even a tranquil Zen garden.
Notably present atop the table was a book, titled "The Power of Your Subconscious Mind."
At this particular place, Dr. Oliver Hawthorne found himself faced with a relentless barrage of troubling questions erupting from the lips of an elderly gentleman, who, accompanied by his grandson, sought solace in the consultant's office.
Observing the way the old man was dressed, Dr. Oliver Hawthorne assumed that he might be nothing more than a simple country bumpkin.
Throughout their conversation, the old man kept expressing his concerns about his grandson, who apparently had a tendency to keep to himself and spend most of his time engrossed in books.
Oliver pondered—what could possibly be so strange about this kid?
Aside from one striking attribute, that is – the boy's captivating light-hazel bluish eyes.
But upon closer examination, it became clear that the kid possessed an array of stunning features, from his dark black hair to his overall appearance.
He was undoubtedly blessed with the most striking physical traits a human could possess.
"If he simply reads a book once, he can recall every page, down to the tiniest details!" the oldman gestured towards his grandson, emphasizing the words.
As Dr. Oliver Hawthorne listened to the old man's claims, his skepticism grew.
'Recalling every detail just by looking at a book?'—Oliver couldn't help but think that the old man was spouting nonsense.
On top of that, the old man went on to boast that the young boy possessed the ability to speak in fifteen different languages, despite being only ten years old.
Oliver ofcourse dismissed it—that had to be pure bullshit.
Oliver decided to put the boy's alleged abilities to the test.
He reached for the book that lay on his table and handed it to the young prodigy.
"Alright, let's see what you make of this", Oliver challenged, as he presented the book- 'The Power of Your Subconscious Mind.'
The young boy skimmed through the pages of the book for a minute before confidently declaring, "I read."
"Hah! You read the entire book?" Oliver questioned, his tone laced with a hint of jest, as he suspected the boy might be lying.
Determined to test the boy's claim, Oliver randomly turned to a particular page of the book.
In a skeptical tone he asked, "Alright then, tell me what is written on ...the page... 119."
To this the boy only closed his eyes without saying anything.
Surprised by the boy's response, Oliver started to dismissively say, "Either you are lying or yo--" but before he could finish, he was abruptly interrupted by the boy's voice, speaking as if reciting from a recorded radio, "His wife left home and asked for a divorce, which is what he feared and believed she would do. Divorce begins in the mind. Divorce takes place first in the mind; the legal proceedings..." After what seemed like an eternity of recitation, the boy ceased speaking.
Dr. Oliver was utterly shellshocked, his mind grappling with the unbelievable demonstration of the boy's remarkable reading abilities.
After a series of different tests, Dr. Oliver Hawthorne found himself in a state of exhaustion, his brow drenched in sweat as he examined the reports pertaining to the boy.
With a tone of professional conviction, Dr. Oliver delivered his assessment to the concerned old man, "Your grandson possesses remarkable abilities beyond the norm. He has what we call photographic memory. Furthermore, his IQ is off the charts, estimated to be around 210... You are incredibly fortunate to have such a gifted grandson!"
Dr. Oliver looked at the boy intently, a warmth in his voice as he posed a question, "Tell me, young one, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
In response, the boy offered a simple answer, "Se'irim."
"Hmm? Se'irim?" Dr. Oliver queried, his brows furrowing in confusion. However, the boy persisted without hesitation, stating firmly, "Móguǐ."
Confusion still evident in his voice, Oliver attempted to speak again, "?Mógu-", but before he could finish the boy interjected again," Agma"
A brief pause filled the air as if suspending the tension, and then the boy resumed, reciting a string of names, "Akuma, D?mon, Asur, Satan, Iblis, Demonio, Mephistopheles, Demon God" ...
Dr. Oliver's frown deepened, as the boy seemed to be listing different names associated with demons.
Oliver soon realized that there was something deeply wrong with the boy..
.....
Current time~
Noah's POV(Point of View):
"Sigh!"~Releasing a much required sigh filled with frustration, I pondered on how to finish the Neuroshock blaster.
The Neuroshock Blaster is nearly 95% complete, a project that has consumed countless nights of past month.
But the main problem lies in lack of perfect-sized toroid and spark gap that I require.
"If only I had my own mechanical workshop..." I muttered in exasperation, gazing at the assortment of disassembled mechanical components spread across my table.
"But I cannot buy a workshop", I mummbled to myself.
Why?
Well due to the complex web of CU agencies: the home inspectors, title companies, sellers, real estate agents, lenders, and financial institutions.
Each entity had its own set of obstacles and issues that make buying a workshop a challenge due to non existence of a proper background, and the fact that I am only 16 year old.
If I was from a rich family such issues wouldn't even exist.
Sure, I could hire a middleman to handle all the tedious work for me, but finding someone trustworthy enough for such a task is impossibl-, 'No wait!'— a sudden realization struck me.
A particular side character of this world popped into my mind. "Yes! I could definetly use him!"
But my excitement quickly faded as I realized that I would have to visit Dyrne Alley for it.
Dyrne Alley, a place that could be described as a fusion of an underground world and black market, harbored a diverse mix of individuals with power and potential.
Although labeled as the black market, it held more than what met the eye.
But that could wait for a little later.
What I need right now is an immediate solution.
"Nano, I need your help."
[Affirmative]
[Activating parallel processing], Nano's mechanical voice rang in my head.
With a touch of my right hand on the computer screen, a mesmerizing display of glowing blue dots materialized, forming a straight line from my shoulder to my palm.
In an instant, my perspective shifted, and I found myself immersed in a world of vast interconnected networks, surrounded by digital constructs, bits of data, and streams of 1's and 0's floating around me.
In a fraction of a second, an avalanche of information of St. Sebastin flooded my mind.
CCTV footage, classified files, details of central union buildings, names of individuals, contact numbers, and addresses— all raced through my consciousness.
It felt like time had slowed down, or perhaps my brain had accelerated to an extraordinary speed. It was difficult to tell.
And then, like a beacon of hope, a small mechanical industry emerged in my field of information.
Its name: SMV Aviation Pvt Ltd.
"Gotcha!", I exclaimed, a surge of adrenaline rushing through me.
Creating a fake believable online alias on the spot I contacted the owner of SMV Aviation.
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