Blessed Combat

8 - Final Decision

“Wake up ------ !” Arma felt a slash cut between his eyebrows as he continued to lie down on the soft cushiony bed, his eyelids glued together to prevent him from rising up. However, he could feel someone deliberately shaking him, restlessly disturbing him in slumber land. He just wanted to stay there while sprawled on the bed like a rag doll. It had been so long since he had ever slept in peace. He was not going to let some random stranger to shatter his rare occurring peaceful moments.

“Wakey wakey ------ !” A vein throbbed at his right temple while Arma groaned lightly, stirring himself and rolling to his right side. To his surprise, he found that the luxurious bed he was on shifted slightly and something cool melted at the surface of his cheeks which was definitely not his pillow. He realised then he didn’t even have his thick blanket wrapping over him. His surrounding was cold. Cold, like snow... It only struck him a short while later that he was not in his bed. He was somewhere else, far from his comfortable bed.

“------...” Arma eyelids flew open and he registered tiny snowflakes drizzling down and enveloping the whole floor. Even he, himself was coated with several sheets of snow. Bewildered and confused at how he got there, Arma instantly got up, briskly patting away the snow from his shirt, head, arms and jeans. While he did that, Arma noticed a slight movement right in front of him. Instinctively, he snapped his attention to the guy before him who was smiling underneath a yellow snow-coated hoodie.

“You woke up. That’s good. I don’t have much time so listen closely okay? ------?” Arma felt his eyes wide open and anger bustling through his bloodstream. His body grew cold and he was certain it was not because of the snow that still rained gently down on them. The guy of him had a mysterious air around him while he smiled evilly under the hood.

“You! How’d you know my real name?!” The guy simply shrugged his shoulders, as if that simple movement would answer his question which didn’t please the tall lad in the least. Arma took note of the guy who was shorter than him by a few inches; obviously since Arma was freakishly tall. This guy was at an average height, just around Zatch’s. The hoodie he wore was something short of eccentric. It was florescent yellow and had two floppy yellow ears which were black at the tips.  A face was printed on the hood to which Arma vaguely recognised as Pikachu. He wore worn out jeans and red converse that was caked with powdered snow.

“Seriously...what’s with that Pikachu Hoodie?”

“Like I said, I don’t have much time. The least I can tell you is that I am part of the core of the AI’s existence. Now to the important point” Before Arma could argue or interfere, the hooded guy waved his arms elegantly, summoning several screens around them which brighten up the dark. It was only then did Arma concentrated on his surroundings.

They were at a dark gloomy area with white sleets as its land. Several silver lines which seemingly represented threads were hung around randomly everywhere. It was laid in a way that it spiralled around the two of them, but not touching them. Arma was impressed that none of them seemed tangled. However, they were connected in an odd way.

“You, Arma... I shall call you with your game name since speaking your real name disturbs you. Anyway, Arma, you have the power to see the future calamities, do you not?” Arma gawked at the shorter guy in front of him whose face was hidden under that hood. The only thing he could see was his mischievous smirk. Trying his best to not wonder how he got into that strange place, Arma played along the shorter guy’s game. It was better than wasting time to focus on something like escaping. He might get the information he needed by talking to the eerie looking guy.

“Yes I can... so?”

“Ah but you are unwilling to manifest it within you, isn’t that right? You know Arma, if you accept your power, there would be so many bright things that would be at your doorstep. For instance, friends...” The yellow hooded guy gestured his arm to three to four screens to his right. It gradually flickered to life, showing pictures of people that Arma could only recognise as players who hold a grudge against him. Although, He did recognise three others in one screen to which Arma distinguished as Stabs, Phoenix and Zatch. Their images were captured with all of them being unaware of it since it looked natural.