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    Smoke drilled itself into the sobering eyes staring blankly at nothing in the room. Seated around the table were rows of chairs equally placed along an orderly line. All but one teetered out of place, boots defying the luxury of manners upon the golden mantle of the desk. Adding insult to injury the owner chewed on the cigarette sticking out like an erected p***s that didn’t quite know which way to go. Up. Down. Side to side.

    Life wasn’t very direct in these cases.

    Though none were worried about the hazard of second hand smoke; it still made them occupants wrinkle their noses in clear disgust. Greater than the threat of billowing gray heavy polluted mist was the very person exhaling it without a care in the world. This man slouched in his seat with his arms crossed across his chest quite contrary to the formal ladies and gentleman with their hands placed on their lap or neatly folded at the table. When the lack of respect to property continued the Chief gave in, sliding down an ashtray at last with a flick of is hand. It wasn’t an appreciative gesture; its very force scraping a storm of heat up as it whizzed past at eye-dropping speed. A pinky cloaked in black leather stopped the circular object; plucking the cancer stick from curled up lips while the owner dangled it after an extended silence, pinching the edges as it dipped down. In this room he felt like he was the only one with the balls to speak. And spoke he did much to the displeasure.

    There just was no pleasing anyone these days.

    “So. Tell me again.” The man paused, idly taking his time to push his chair further back until it threatened to overturn at gravity’s own leisure. “Your classrooms are full so I have to take that dipshit in my class?” He reached for the stack of paper by his feet. It wasn’t anything special in hindsight, but one students name on the list made him curse his immortal existence by infinity. If it were possible he’d have done it the moment the higher ups gave him an order to transfer at their convenience. There weren’t enough words in his vocabulary to explain his protest. Rolling his eyes to the head of the table he flapped the stack for a greater effect. “What if I refuse?” Ignoring glares thrown in his direction he earned a low sigh. Was it the sixth one now? Seemed like it. God, what was their problem? Him? Clearly. No matter what he said people found some reason to be insensitive jerks to every suggestion he put forward. Then when it came to personal affairs concerning the scheduling, he got his a** chewed up. He was a glutton for ridicule if pitted forth his suspicions because he was the youngest at the table. Crinkling the rippling papers in hand he smacked them childishly against the edge, earning a few flinches from the other occupants. Tch.

    If I had half a mind to do what I wanted RIGHT now there wouldn’t be need for this room or school anymore…’ At the requested attention he raised his eyebrows, indicating he did listen.

    Maybe.

    “Well you can’t Zero. This is a place of learning. A peaceful place where we must guide---” Chief Infernus quipped.

    “—little brats to their new cycle and instruct them on being complete dicks? Fine example.”

    Chief Infernus suppressed his retort with a clearing of the throat. “Zero.” Patience ran thick in his words. Zero knew others were picking their words like fragile glass. One wrong word---one wrong sentence could stroke his temper wrong and send him into a wild fit of rage. Infernus didn’t need it right now. Not with the brand new table made of Heliah quartz straight from the Lower Slums. While the material was prone to surviving destruction no one doubted that Zero could break without any effort whatsoever. With an exasperated sigh the Chief leaned back in his seat, the fat rolling along the armrests when he shifted position to accustom better. He knew it was going to be hard but not this hard to change the teachers mind. What a hassle…

    Seventh one Zero noted with a secret smile while simultaneously pushing his hat further down.

    “If it would please you for twenty seconds Ex-General I would like you to listen.”

    Zero of course, determined his thoughts with a sour expression. Oh dear. He offended the Ex-General now.

    The head of the table tried a different approach to his long-running friend by placating him gently like a woman to a bratty child. “Zero you have to understand we are running tight for space this year. Believe me if I said I’d love to move the kid elsewhere but you’re the only one with space—” Before even finishing his sentence the same stack that had been gestured to him by Zero was rudely thrown in his face. The youth perched himself on top of the royal mantled desk in a crouching position, lighter in one hand. At the present moment Zero with papers were far dangerous than a lighter. With a lighter the worst case scenario involved lighting things on fire. With papers, well, Chief Infernus was sure his wild teacher could come up with sixty six ways to use it on the spot. Rather than intimidating it did the opposite. It annoyed him. A sheet stuck to the Chief’s face like a fallen leaf stuck by a wind with too great of a force. Letting the paper fall like a leaf during summer time he slid it aside like yesterdays news. Which is exactly how he thought through these interruptions. Treating Zero like a natural weather pattern.

    Currently he was sunny with a high probability of tornado warnings.

    Not the best pattern but it meant everything would live.

    “Don’t give me that s**t!” The enraged man yelled; sliding off the desk like it was an everyday thing. “ Why do I have him in my class? And don’t ‘because’ me! You could change it if you put your mind to it, but you won’t because you’re a b*****d.” Which wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t hate the Chief; but that didn’t stop him from making a point that he was sure his previous teacher was well aware of. Zero whirled around, clearly agitated to the point of no return and banged his gloves fist on the table. The rest of the faculty adverted their eyes from his steaming red ones. All but the actual person who evoked his anger by simple words scolded him with a thinly pursed mouth. “Argh! You guys are all useless! Whatever! I’m out of here. I have a class waiting for me.” Kicking the seat aside he didn’t wait to see what person it would hit this week and stomped to the door with all the rage of a typhoon.

    “General Zero.” Chief announced in the same indifferent tone.

    About to turn the knob clockwise the wild tempered god paused and snapped. “What?”

    “No maiming today----okay?” Hope wrinkled like a plea under the hopeless illusion that such a feat were possible to prevent. Knowing better Chief Infernus only suggested it, hoping that his student would take it to heart---well---if he had been born with a heart to feel an emotion other than anger.

    Pink hair whipped in a haughty fashion blanketing the closing eyes. A good sign if the Chief ever saw one.

    That hope instantly evaporated like a clown popping a balloon animal in font of the birthday child.

    “They piss me off. No amount of praying to Jesus is going to save them. Certainly not you.” Grounded out Zero. He heard enough. There wasn’t anything to keep him listening anymore. All he heard were useless numbers and different approachable views of the student body. After a few centuries of this it had started to get old. Boring. Where was the enjoyment? With fumbling fingers the man wrestled with his package of smokes with an expression that clearly stated he’d smoke the whole thing before class-----heaven help him. At the signal of dismissal the man clad in black was gone like a shadow who technically only appeared because he was required. Head of the school board academy; Chief Infernus moved his brown sleeves back to see the time.

    “I kept him here for five additional minutes. Thirty-five minutes is the record now.” Said Infernus jollily.

    None of the occupants seemed to share the same sentiments or humor.. Some shifted in their seat for the smothering worry of igniting an unstoppable fuse was finally out of the clear. After precious seconds passed Levia coughed to reinstate the fact that a meeting was still in session. Removing the glasses from their case she placed them back on and shuffled her stack with an apathetic attitude overall. Many quickly followed her example when she addressed the head of the table, “Sir. This man…is it really necessary for him to attend?”

    “Its just Zero. Now. For the budget this year we will have to…”

    Indeed. Just General Zero. Ex-General Zero.




    Morning in Heliah was an example of chaotic panic at its prime. Students frantically moved in every direction to make it on time, often causing pandemonium in on area or another when a student got trampled in the unsupervised areas. The corridors were big------but not big enough it seemed. Garbed in black from head to toe Zero was a students worst enemy. He stood taller than the average gods and angels; his sky-scraping height demanded respect from everyone, and those not inclined to give it he unleashed a fury none lived to tell about. But it seemed karma came out to get him because everyone else he knew had dibs on the advantage in height. With simmering hot pink may have been the only other distinguishing feature on him, if one chose to be oblivious to the red eyes shadowed underneath his hat always fixed in a constant glare of anger. Little else passed through the emotion radar on him. If one had anger, one had every single person on their knees quivering like a diseased lamb. While he wasn’t technically a general in the military anymore, he refused to abide by the academy dictatorship and wore his uniform with pride. It intimidated many young freshman and made the third and fourth years quake in their shoes when he showed up as a substitute when a teacher became sick. Though it didn’t happen often, their were days when he taught every class in a variety of different subjects, some that he wouldn’t lie about knowing d**k all and moved on into his own idea of teaching. Sporting black leather gloves at all times there wasn’t a moment he was seen without the cane. People mistook this as a reasonable sign of why he was transferred from such an upstaging position to…a less than appreciated profession.

    Really, it was his whacking stick for newborns.

    Draped over his shoulders was the same high quality material as the rest of his outfit, patched with seemingly randomly selected patches of crescent shapes and a white fiery pattern running along the shoulder. It was a detachable portion if he wished it, but he endured the heat with it on with a neutral disposition. The rest showed off every inch of his thin frame; from the waist up the shirt was buttoned indignantly to hide what some dare to say were a ‘woman’s’ curves. To quell those rumors he positioned his Shotgun underneath on his left side. A smaller firearm then a traditional bulky model he traded the heavy security of whiplash for firepower. The more power the better. He alone was able to withstand a full powered shot from it-----a feat all in itself. From the collar of black and downward a purple vest like fabric glued over top, giving a bit more imagination; keeping true to the white fire patterns all around the edges. From the waist down and circling around the front he donned a half skirt like design, and while odd, was becoming quite the talk among females and young mothers (though this was an arguable topic in Heliah; woman were considering laws of ‘family’ still, but he didn’t give a flying rats a** about that and failed to be up to date on topics with similar events.) It matched his shoulder design with the same patterns, only they ran along the edges and at the corner curved sharply like a birds wing span, outstretched to pierce the darkness further in. Clipped to his belt it gave an extra layer of protection for the material had been hand wrung from the Famista; a company well versed in compounding and synthesizing in insane experiments. A black marketed store held in question by the Council of 7 who have since three hundred years ago issued warrants for their arrest.

    Since their wasn’t any worthwhile reward for him besides cash, Zero feigned stupid.

    More black ran down on his pants like an ink toppled over with no clear end in sight. To relief of the superiors he finally broke his habit of black, a less than considerable choice for holy entities such as them. His boots. Though it was debatable to call them boots or shoes. With criss cross spirals of black and white it repelled the common view of society with his own taste in style.

    Lifting a hand up in the air halfway to his class, Zero didn’t blink an eye when he caught a torpedoing ball. Amongst the mass before him it could have easily been mistaken, even with the ripples of fire from the gathered speed danced along it threatening to burn anything in its path. That may have been the case---in the Lowborn Society. Disinterested in games he peered over the maggots running around him to catch the perpetrator. Easily labeling the owner of the ball he curled his lips in a nasty smile that was all but friendly. The child; Jeremy, a well known class clown in 7-A flashed a sheepish look. But where was the fun in yelling over a crowd? Allowing the cane to drop from his hands he directed with a gestured Raze aside. Slapping the offending object against his hand he considered being nice and just giving it back. But then that would only invite children to copycat with the idea they could get away with it if Zero the Ragnarok didn’t harp about it.

    Reputation insisted.

    “Don’t you know how to play ball, kid?” Everyone who had stopped to wonder why a teacher abruptly halted in the halls saw the warning signs. In an instant the lines of people became scarce, most moving out of the path completely, flanking to squish themselves against the walls. Careless youths who dropped their books in fear ditched the retrieval. Deplorable but…wise. Amused by this the General let the ball drop from his hands and let it catch on an outstretched foot. “You play it outside for starters.” Said Zero in a low voice. Angling the leg he kicked it up and caught it in the same fashion finding that oh so sweet spot. A collected murmur starting behind him was cut to silence when he turned his head. “Second. You need a partner. So here you GO!” Lightly nudging the ball off the top of his shoes he waited until it bounced once before kicking it without any restraint. Connected with a deafening solid CRACK which should have deflated it, the ball shot forward like a comet. A bluish aura wrapped around it, burning the outer layer to molten charred black. Students against the walls held their noses when it whipped by and others covered their ears at the accompanied sound of high pitched whistling when it broke the sound barrier. But they were above that state of sound and sight. As gods they could move faster, perform better, and endure far worse than thoughts allowed.

    Just not his definition of thought.

    The ball turned miniature man-made comet struck Jeremy in the chest and carried him to the end of the hall. Though Zero doubted his eyes were good enough to see past another two miles he saw the rising wafting dust in the air and the interior walls crumbling like a thin piece of cardboard. Not one to wait around to see how far he went Zero turned his attention to the children of various backgrounds and grades situated in dumbstruck awe (and fear). He broke their paralysis with a spitting roar, “GET TO CLASS YOU BRATS!” Whipping the cane he grabbed back he struck the vicinity around him. That got them moving.

    A chorus of, “Yes sir, Zero SIR!” replied and all continued on normal.

    Just another day in Heliah.

    Flexing his fingers the man in black came to his class moments later, opening the door wickedly sweetly as opposed of ripping it off the hinges like every other day. Waving a hand upon entry he caught the summoned book in one hand and glorified his entrance further when he reached his desk to slam it down along with his cane. Rural and noble young godly beings jumped to attention, those born to a wiser mother stopped talking immediately and stood to salute. The inexperienced…well….they were left to be. He had an infinite lifetime to plan their demise if he saw fit to put effort into it. Flickering his eyes back and forth he noticed one seat was empty. Stunned speechless by this revelation he picked up the clipboard by the anonymous book and studied the list quickly.

    Jason. Patrick. Gloath. Seth. Inglud. There were so many kids these year than the usual fifteen he was accustomed to. Not a patient man at all he was reserved as a last resort sort of class. Those that survived to take their experience in generations to come wouldn’t talk down his classes because while it didn’t look like any kind of practical teaching; he did teach. Well enough that most moved on to become successful in specific careers.

    Kind of. Omitting the dead if you exclude non-living.

    Light constantly washed the room in an upstanding glow that deceived most into thinking it a tranquil place of peace where the only evil doing done is by students and their infuriating paper airplanes. No. Zero ruled his class like an iron fist and instructed like any trained General in the military did. No excuses. No questions. Just work, work, and more work. After a couple hundred years of this one would imagine such an upstanding person to become bored and request a transfer somewhere else, but Zero wasn’t budging even at the request of the head of the school. They put him with the scum of Heliah. They made him teach. They can suffer the complaints by the thousands if he had to suffer the empty handed freak-out syndrome of being bottled up with brats that were just taught how to perform the ten commands of human function.

    Piss. Eat. Sleep. s**t. Move. Speak. See. Hear. Feel. And Obey.

    Ten commands. All learned in the kindergarten level of the school. In his class his job was to instruct in the geography points of the three revealed realms, educate in basic combat, and guide them into the spell casting science called Raze. A power granted to all angels and gods through incantations from seemingly random jewels found on the ground; harnessed by synchronizing. Synchronizing itself was one of the basic terms he taught, as all depended upon that to function in Heliah. Everything in the world was bound to one form or another, a law instated long before he came around. Longer than the teacher who taught him.

    And that…was a pretty damn long time.

    Although considering how age wasn’t as important as rank one was expected to----

    “Sir.” Said a voice.

    Zero automatically lowered the clipboard distracted. Focusing on the child in the front he bit back the curl of disgust threatening to flash an unfriendly sneer. “What?”

    Inglud sank into his seat under the predatory glint in his teachers eyes. With a shaky hand he pointed towards the doorway which aside form the windows, was the only way in and out of the terrifying pit of hell. Turning his attention towards the obvious sign of distress Zero didn’t react in the slightest. Not even a ghost of a smile was visible; for all he did was stretch out his hand flat up in the air in anticipation. Explaining all the while what the cute little critter carrying a covered cup exceeding its body mass was. “That’s my familiar.” He stated while tucking back a lock of hair. He didn’t budge, even when it was clear the small creature was burdened with labored breaths constantly pausing every few meters. One didn’t need to imagine how far it had to go to retrieve a cup of coffee in Heliah; when the school cafeteria was on the opposite end. “Familiars are what you will all be assigned to shortly. They are handy servants that will be a lifetime partner here in your new life.” Ugh. Zero resisted the rolling eyes. The same speech every freaking week…Gag worthy.

    He jabbed a thumb at the flying fire rat. With flattened ears the creatures very height was put into question. And unlike Zero the creature did not share his personality and angry scowls. A heart warming smile (if one put their imagination to the test and pretended) spread across its furry face. Two wings carried it in the air, distinguishing it from a common place rodent. Both black in color it warned students of who her owner was, lest she told. Zero’s words were as disinteresting as the subject. “This is Dusty. If you have questions that you cannot come to me for---should you lose your balls during this year, she is your next best option. While I am doing work I will hope for your sake I am not interrupted with trivial crap. This means if Dusty tells me you’re not doing what is assigned I will make work for you that isn’t even in the curriculum. Or…may decide to be nice and you can do VR-T with me.” A few students winced by the end. VR-T with Zero? Never a good thing.

    With a final wheeze the coffee retrieved from who-knows-where slipped from Dusty’s stubby little claws and with a shriek she covered her eyes.

    Seth who picked the closest seat to the door made a move to get up and catch it but he didn’t see it fall two centimeters before Zero caught it, almost like he hadn’t moved from his spot at all. Rubbing the blue eyes free of sleep he stared in astonishment. Was that possible?

    Hardly boasting his incredible speed, Zero chose to pace with coffee in hand, and waving the clipboard in the other; like he couldn’t decide which was a better throwing object. Steaming hot delicious coffee or the satisfaction of blunted wood on a students skull. Hmm. “I stress this. If I am busy do not come to me for help. Furthermore Dusty will be evaluating you all when it comes to tests. She has centuries of experience catching cheaters so don’t even try. This doubles when you get your familiars. Remember. She is my eyes and ears and---”

    BAM

    The teacher of the room tried not to crush his coffee when he moved to block the door.

    “Sorry teach. Woah. Who put the door there?” From the doorway a young man peered in. His clothes were unlike anything else before. Following a pattern of hot pink and midnight blue it gave the idea this youth didn’t know the first thing of fashion---or proper dress wear whatsoever. Small patches of assorted pictures were placed in the barest places by the elbow and chest and from the standing point of a teacher in session, Zero didn’t know how to react to such a bold approach. Short hair flopped in the front while complimenting the sides with faint traces of bangs that may have recently been shortened prior to the semester start. Blue outlined the black in small spread out streaks supposedly to repel the conduct of the school that disapproved of hair coloring. Topped with the unnecessary shades perched on his nose he was an alien outsider as far as the humanoid Ragnarok was concerned.

    Placing a hand over top the other Zero tried to remain calm. The coffee was too important.

    “I put that door to shut people like you out. Now get OUT!” Mood for coffee snuffed out, Zero waved his hand in a blurring motion to dispel the happy evil wanting in his class.

    The unidentified man cocked his head to one side in an attempt to act cute. Hardly interested in blasphemous goody-two-shoe attitude the Ex-General placed a hand on the unknown youths shoulder and pushed him back out. Though only a step was taking that was enough---since Zero was an a**l man over his territory, a fact well known in Heliah. What was his was his and you just don’t ******** with what he says is his. Although Zero would trash everyone else’s and no one questioned it. Life was good this way.

    The stranger looked hurt for a moment before becoming all smiles and sparkles. With a glint of annoyance the pink haired Ex-General found he wasn’t tall enough to intimidate the jerk out of his class for good. Indeed, the youthful bumbling excuse for a fashion reject had a good foot on him, and proudly emphasized this by placing a hand on his …hat. With the additional pressure the hat slumped and so did his anger. Tumbling down from the façade he clenched his teeth. He tried to remind himself that coffee was much more important than pride. Pride didn’t wake you up this early. No it---

    “Gee. I know that Zero the Ragnarok is pretty strong but…I didn’t except him to be so short. I’m Pe---”

    With coloring cheeks Zero gritted his teeth at the gall this person had to mock him and failed to contain the twitch of his hands from becoming obvious. Dusty saw the rising anger of her master and quickly took to the far room. The strangers first comment was one that was heard and would never be uttered by godly lips again. Dropping the coffee like a detonated bomb it exploded on the floor, spraying it with a vanilla scented murky brown liquid. In no less than ten seconds flat the introducer found his surroundings take a U-turn upside down and ate a face full of splintered wood.

    “Rule 1# of my class. NEVER EVER call me short you drop out little s**t!”

    Pen winced as the clipboard bounced off his head. It didn’t hurt----but that didn’t stop him from smiling soon after. “Never again SIR!”

    “And you’re late! DETENTION!”

    “Yes, sir, Zero sir! Permission to speak sir?” Asked Pen, muffled by the floor. A spike of wood was pressing into his eye. How uncomfortable.

    “What?”

    “Can I get helped up?”

    “…..Help yourself.”

    Addressing the class he indicated with a pointed finger. “If you take this things example I will personally make sure a jar will be prepared for organ donations. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? Good. Now. Let’s begin. Familiars are creatures that you will be assigned to that will make living here a lot easier. For starters…”

    Just another day in Heliah.