FancyKiddo
Your Alien Friend!
Intro:
When you read the news, you thought it was too good to be true. Dynamic Ideas, innovators in space travel, robotics, artificial intelligence, and even the great minds behind Juice, were offering exactly what you wanted. Maybe you were running from demons of your past, or maybe you were simply tired with the lot that your parent’s genes had given you. Maybe your body didn’t fit your mind, or you were crippled, or you were old and sickly. But for some reason, you wanted what they were giving: a chance for a completely rebuilt body, to your own specifications, for the amazing price of free.
And after all of the tests and forms and the official lottery draw, you were in. Out of the tens of thousands that must have jumped at the offer, you ended up being one of the lucky ones. You packed your bags, kissed whoever you were leaving behind, and stepped onto a shuttle to the medical facilities where your new life would begin.
And you, all with the tens of thousands of other “lucky winners,” got just what you wanted. Everything seemed to go just fine, at first. You were well received and cared for, your designer came in and worked out the final plans with you, you went into surgery, and when you woke up, you were in a new body. You received new papers, you were shuttled to your selected location, and things seemed to be in order. You had your new life, you had your new body. And for a short time, everything was good and well.
Then the slipups began. You received the first package in the mail as you fought against strange hallucinations and fevers, horrible headaches and descents into complete senselessness. You drank the included vial of Juice in accordance with the included letter, and read with shaky hands as the stationery with “Dynamic Ideas” stamped in official typeface across the top informed you that there was something wrong with your operation, and you would need Juice to keep yourself alive from now on.
You settled into a routine. You lived your new life, and you drank the Juice when it arrived. You didn’t consider that the medicine was perhaps not included in the price of surgery. You didn’t realize that at some point, Dynamic Ideas was going to call in that favor, and your new life was going to take a dramatic, unexpected turn.
The package contained a different note, this time. With your vial of Juice was a threat, and a mission. Complete this mission, and you would receive your next shipment of Juice. Don’t, and you would have to find your own Juice.
Perhaps you resisted at first, bankrupting yourself in an attempt to remain autonomous. But eventually, faced with the horrible symptoms of your withdrawal, you gave in.
At first, the tasks were simple and easy. Go to the park, do 100 jumping jacks, return home. Drive somewhere, pick up a package, and bring it somewhere. Simple things. But they got harder. They began to strain against your morals, but you were trapped.
And by now, you’ve done so many things, you can’t even remember what it was last week. At some point, you opted for “upgrades” to ensure your survival in your more dangerous missions. Perhaps you no longer even look human, but does it really matter? You are at least still alive, and you do have a new life… though entirely at someone else’s command.
In this dismal condition, you were transferred to a small, elite squad. You are the best of the best, under a new commander, placed on an important mission. Officially, you’re going after the heads of an opposing faction. Unofficially… well, your new commander apparently wants to help you escape Dynamic Ideas’ clutched. How suspicious… and interesting.
When you read the news, you thought it was too good to be true. Dynamic Ideas, innovators in space travel, robotics, artificial intelligence, and even the great minds behind Juice, were offering exactly what you wanted. Maybe you were running from demons of your past, or maybe you were simply tired with the lot that your parent’s genes had given you. Maybe your body didn’t fit your mind, or you were crippled, or you were old and sickly. But for some reason, you wanted what they were giving: a chance for a completely rebuilt body, to your own specifications, for the amazing price of free.
And after all of the tests and forms and the official lottery draw, you were in. Out of the tens of thousands that must have jumped at the offer, you ended up being one of the lucky ones. You packed your bags, kissed whoever you were leaving behind, and stepped onto a shuttle to the medical facilities where your new life would begin.
And you, all with the tens of thousands of other “lucky winners,” got just what you wanted. Everything seemed to go just fine, at first. You were well received and cared for, your designer came in and worked out the final plans with you, you went into surgery, and when you woke up, you were in a new body. You received new papers, you were shuttled to your selected location, and things seemed to be in order. You had your new life, you had your new body. And for a short time, everything was good and well.
Then the slipups began. You received the first package in the mail as you fought against strange hallucinations and fevers, horrible headaches and descents into complete senselessness. You drank the included vial of Juice in accordance with the included letter, and read with shaky hands as the stationery with “Dynamic Ideas” stamped in official typeface across the top informed you that there was something wrong with your operation, and you would need Juice to keep yourself alive from now on.
You settled into a routine. You lived your new life, and you drank the Juice when it arrived. You didn’t consider that the medicine was perhaps not included in the price of surgery. You didn’t realize that at some point, Dynamic Ideas was going to call in that favor, and your new life was going to take a dramatic, unexpected turn.
The package contained a different note, this time. With your vial of Juice was a threat, and a mission. Complete this mission, and you would receive your next shipment of Juice. Don’t, and you would have to find your own Juice.
Perhaps you resisted at first, bankrupting yourself in an attempt to remain autonomous. But eventually, faced with the horrible symptoms of your withdrawal, you gave in.
At first, the tasks were simple and easy. Go to the park, do 100 jumping jacks, return home. Drive somewhere, pick up a package, and bring it somewhere. Simple things. But they got harder. They began to strain against your morals, but you were trapped.
And by now, you’ve done so many things, you can’t even remember what it was last week. At some point, you opted for “upgrades” to ensure your survival in your more dangerous missions. Perhaps you no longer even look human, but does it really matter? You are at least still alive, and you do have a new life… though entirely at someone else’s command.
In this dismal condition, you were transferred to a small, elite squad. You are the best of the best, under a new commander, placed on an important mission. Officially, you’re going after the heads of an opposing faction. Unofficially… well, your new commander apparently wants to help you escape Dynamic Ideas’ clutched. How suspicious… and interesting.
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