“Kindness? You tell me of kindness? Some of them will eat you up? Others would take you and use your body as a breeding ground for their eggs. Not many would shake your hands for a fair fancy pant duel while a referee watches you on the side.”

That’s what Jamison heard immediately heard while hopping on to the server. He commanded the vane to lower the volume of his friend, FieryBlossom.

It seemed that they were watching videos of the Future Greatness candidates and it was devolving into an argument.

“Look to this guy with his peace peace bull.”

“I would like to listen to someone who uses drugs so much its half his body weight but I’m smarter than that.”

Jamison could see Franz2000’s shaking his head.

“Guys. Keep it calm.”

‘Fuck. It’s tough babysitting this two.’

He grabbed his energy drink with his two stumps of an elbow. A consequence of his tours in service of the Mendeleyev family. Despite being a great hindrance to his daily life, he never regretted all those years.

Especially, since Jamison was compensated well and he lived on a beach world in peace where he received money enough for comfortable living. The best part was the free Spiritual Network Vane for life since he was a disabled veteran.

In the virtual world, he was whole again and more. The trio of them was the Mundanes.

Their love album sold enough that avid music fans know of them while most of the population know one of their songs through a commercial. It was a solid start.

Currently, his fellow vets FieryBlossom and Franz2000 were lounging while they were brewing what would their next album be. This was the hard part, the tough and abrasive FieryBlossom hated the sentimental and popular sound of their first album.

Franz who wrote most of it was offended of course and they can’t stop butting heads. There were already talks of leaving on their own ways.

[ Enter lounge room. ]

Jamison ordered the vane and his vision immediately changed to a dirty and messy couch room. It felt homely with its abundant snacks that he grabbed with his virtual hands.

Franz and his white long hair that fell forward. It covered most of his face except for his right eye. FieryBlossom wore only rainbow shorts that reached half his thigh. The thin yet somehow muscular man was snorting a few drugs of this moment. The two might fight a lot due to their differences but Jamison knew how similar they were.

Franz had adopted a pacifist lifestyle, promising to only hurt when necessary. Dick, FieryBlossom, now hated when his original name was called. By his words, ‘I am my music now not my past’ and the last time a reporter called him Dick, the man stuffed his fist into their mouth.

Jamison’s two bandmates were watching Izo Shelley’s highlights. This was one of their past times. Watching the warriors of the future and maybe vicariously living through them. Even if they didn’t want to admit it, they would enjoy going back to combat.

Unfortunately, it was impossible. They’ve lost their spiritual powers.

Izo Shelley who they didn’t pay much attention to before was being condemned by a very loud mob. Since the majority was silent, these small opinions echoed louder than it should be.

The trio ignored those as they watched Izo Shelley fight Death jellyfishes by spraying them with water. Compared to their ocean counterparts, they were highly sensitive to water and had a chance to send powerful bolts of electricity when irritated.

The candidate nicknamed “Future” took advantage of this fact and with his partner Lee Sun Hee, allowed them to exhaust their natural defense. Then they would stab them in their refractory period.

‘It requires great bravery to get so close to those things. Even when they’re electrocution ability is down since they would swing their tentacles all over.’

The two then fought steel constructs that were highly armored and very fast attacks with their rapier and buckler combo. They were few but highly dangerous since they make smart decisions.

A good warrior knows his strengths, a great one knows his enemies’ weakness and the best, the one who survives, knows both. The prior candidate’s strategy was trade blows and find a way to attack the weakness in their chest.

Izo Shelley however chose to fire at their faces so of course they blocked it with their shield. The impact force pushed it back and unbalanced it.

He moved to the side and fired again. When the buckler was hit this time, the force was lateral and hit it to the side. The shotgun unloaded in the relatively thinly armored chest until it was dead.

“Courageous and decisive.”

Jamison scratched his chin as FieryBlossom was excited by his comment. The man was by far the biggest fan of underdogs.

“I like the kid. Obviously an amateur but he learns fast. He’s also studying Dream State Consciouness while he saved his points. It slowed his earning and growth but with his successful business he is on the fast track to the most money in this training batch.”

The footage changed to Izo Shelley fighting the orcs. Jamison had heard about this one.

“Disdainful. How can a warrior not respect the weak?”

“Look at you talking. Franz you were the most violent among our group.”

“Thus, I know better.”

Jamison thought for a second. He again placed himself as a soldier on the battlefield and imagined if Izo Shelley was his comrade.

‘As long as he didn’t do it out pleasure it was a fair and smart move.’

It’s by no means a secret that some soldiers enjoyed the killing and wouldn’t mind sneaking a few crimes if they could.

‘His actions however. Hmm. I would be glad to be his comrade.’

The young candidate had shown potential of being capable of making the hard choices. And there was always going to be a time and place where one has to commit an evil. Jamison would trust this person with his back.

“Ok, you two. Let’s not keep lounging about.”

They grumbled and lazily readied themselves.

[ Activate Studio Program. ]

This music creation Nexus app was paid through subscription. An exorbitant amount in fact. It however allowed all known instruments to be played by anyone of them.

“Let’s rock.”

Since they still haven’t agreed on what songs to make, the band had just been jamming for the past week. Franz would share something he found cool, FieryBlossom would make it faster, they argue and then its up to Jamison to make them up.

It was a mentally taxing situation. An hour in and they haven’t gotten anywhere. Three hours in and the two was going to throw fists. By the four-hour mark, after a walkout and drug break by Franz and FieryBlossom respectively, the band had finally found a solid tune.

It was fast and heavy yet had a sentimental accompaniment. Aggressive and a complete departure to their love album, it was also 6 minutes long. The norm was 3-4.

FieryBlossom was very happy with the outcome. This version 1 had been dominated by his choices and Franz had conceded much.

The man feeling both physically and musically high asked them.

“Ok. Melody and what would this song be about. Why don’t we make a story album? Of a- a murderer on the loose? A revenge story of a broken man named Dick.”

“What the fucking arse of a devil are you talking about? Who’s even going to write the words, you? Listen to this craziness Jami.”

“Of course, me. Are you saying I can’t write lyrics?”

“You can write one the day you quit your snort powder.”

Sigh.

“Why don’t we each write a version of our own? It’s been a long day anyway. You guys rest up and we can brainstorm the initial idea tomorrow.”

“Fair. I’ve been thinking of reading this junkies mimicry of lyrics anyway.”

“Oh, you’ll get it. You’ll get it. Just don’t disappoint our listeners with your emotional garbage that comes from your weak self.”

It took a minute for the two to break up. Jamison made sure to be the last to leave just in case they kept on fighting. Normally, sudden attacks in the Nexusphere would not be registered but knowing the two they would request a duel. Then all pain inhibitors would be removed.

Jamison returned to the physical world and his virtual hand were gone once more. This was the points in his day that he enjoyed the quiet. Even if he loved the two, they were hard to bear on a daily basis so much that he sometimes preferred his limbless demon cursed self with his spirituality destroyed.

Now, he only needed to write a small portion of lyrics then he could do whatever for the rest of the day.

He left the title blank for now as he employed the basics. Jamison listened to the music, defined what it made him feel and what memories it revived in him.

‘Hardness of life. Rain. Mud. The heaviness of one’s loadout.’

With this inspiration, he weaved and swerved within his mind. Fishing for ideas within his haunted memories. Soon enough, Jamison had a figure in mind that guided him through writing the whole song.

‘This kid?’

The black and illusory figure that he imagined gained features. A young newborn soldier he was, crawling in the mud as bullets fly and explosions disemboweled the land’s insides.

He thought about changing the figure’s face but he couldn’t do so. Trying to make him larger or a woman just wouldn’t erase the now etched vision.

‘Izo Shelley.’

Perhaps, the kid had left a deeper impression than Jamison thought.

‘If he is the muse of this music, what can I do?’

Like any normal person, he would rather that more people would like his work. Izo Shelley was already hated by a significant population.

‘Fine. We’ll take a risk.’

He returned to the start of the lyrics. The former blank spot he penned the first name that he thought of.

[ Soldier of the Crying World ]