Updated version.

Contains more background information, better explanation and less spelling and grammar mistakes.

Style should also be more readable.

If you did read this chapter before it was updated you should read it again now.

It just is vastly different.

From roughly 2600 words to 5200.

Yep, the lenght roughly doubled.

DCF: Demon-Counter-Force

UMA: United MIlitary Assistance

That's it from me, hope you enjoy the updated chapter.

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The scanning process at the eleventh birthday is a ceremony and the duty of every citizen.

Only a small percentage of the human population, around 12%, are compatible with either demonic or angelic genes. The reason for this is still unknown.

Roughly 30 years ago the compatibly rate was only around 8%, but has been increased due to promotion of copulation between capable individuals.

[…]

Roughly 80% of Males tend to be compatible with demonic genes and only 20% with angelic genes.

For Females it is the other way around 20% demonic, 80% angelic.

The reason for this is still unknown, but theories claim Females to be more graceful and thus closer to Angels.[…]

After a lot of debate from our scientists it appears to be wise to give the ones with the demonic genes the role of the Protector(Armour) and the angelic gene the role of the Destroyer(Controller).

[…]

After a positive DNA scan follows the insertion of the demonic or angelic DNA sequence into the Human DNA. This process and the following transformation is a very tough and straining one.

Even a healthy, well-fed person has only a chance of survival of roughly 60%.

Although we have improved the process and the conditions quite a lot, the rate only increased as far as 5%. During the process every individual is under constant surveillance from medical staff and will receive any and all necessary help to turn the insertion process into a success.[…]

The reason why the test and the following transformation process is at that young age is quite simple. They are at the start at puberty and the body goes through many changes in this period of time, so to get the best results we need to insert the genes at the start of this period.

- Information booklet for parents about the scanning and transmutation process, Ministry of Information in cooperation with the DCF

---Time: 2053.12.05, 12:37 CET(=central european time)---

---Location: Europe, England, Cotton Village ---

---Population estimated: 1.754 ---

---Estimated Threat: F: miniscule Demon-Incursion, low class Demons and low class Demon Lord---

---Military Units in engagement: Squad 0044HQ034---

---Military combat power: E ---

---Ragnar Rok---

Loud roars, the tearing of flesh, the cries of pain, the sound of metal hitting metal can be heard.

If a human from before the Invasion would stumble into the scene he might think he is right in the middle of a fantasy tale.

A handful of mighty warriors in gigantic, shining Armours fighting against an endless stream of Demons.

Well, they wouldn’t be too wrong, but this is not a fantasy tale, this is reality.

The small village was attacked roughly 20 minutes ago, we arrived 10 minutes afterwards.

The scene was at this time already close to a massacre.

A few hundred arrived safely at the bunker, but not all.

Many died on the way to their salvation.

Some tried to buy enough time for us to arrive.

I guess it worked out in a way.

I swing my sword in large circles around me, decapitating a few low class demons around me and my Squad. I stand a bit in front of them, so they can watch me how they should fight.

At least that is what I tell them. I doubt they believe it.

They will not die this way and that is the point.

The Armours standing there are gigantic, all at least 2,20 m tall. They look bulky, undestroyable and heavy. Each of them has slightly different design, depending on the character of the pair, the taste and the mood. The Armour of one of my Squad mates has a slightly Spartan design with a dim bronze colour to it. Another one has definitely taken a liking to the whole white shining knight.

Their Armour seems to shine in a dim white light, and the metal seems to be made out of silver.

Small wings are attached to the helmet.

I can’t really change my Armour anymore. It is pitch-black and has a few bronze looking parts here and there. My shoulder guards are just ridiculous gigantic and I look even more bulky than most.

Every party of it is edged and quite sharp and I’m roughly 2,50m tall in this form.

But as opposed to the others my eyes do not shine, it just looks dark and empty.

All in all the state of my Armour looks quite run down.

I continue to swing my two handed sword and blood splashes on me.

I enjoy the hot, acid-like feeling and grin like a wolf, not that anybody could see this though.

Everyone with demonic genes in them has a tendency to be a bit more aggressive and some, like me, even go berserk and lose themselves to a blood-freenzy.

Normally the Controller takes care of it, so the Armour doesn’t give in, but I don’t have a Controller.

The longer the battle, the less able I’m to resist this urge.

I can finally see the Demon Lord in front of me, only 50m away from me.

If I kill him the Dimension rip will close and the invasion is over.

I don’t even need to think about it.

“Sarah, you will take over command while I take down this damn bastard.”

“Ragnar, you can’t just rush in there like you always do! We need to work as a team to….”

“Can’t hear you ANYMORE! HAHAHAHA!”

The moment I let myself be taken over by my bloodlust, outside voices are far too quiet to make any sense. My vision starts to get blurry and red, adrenaline rushes my body and some kind of red aura explodes out of my body.

My rage and hatred starts to build up inside of me. It feels hot, thick and sharp.

I’m nearly ready to start massacre the demons in front of me, just one last thing to do.

I turn on music, it is loud, aggressive and fast paced.

The chain in my mind simply snaps and I jump forward, cutting my way through the army of small fry in front of me.

I start to laugh loud like the maniac I’m right now.

My bloodlust, rage and hatred increase with every swing I make, with every step I take forward and with every wound I receive. In this state I sacrifice most of my defence for strength and speed.

So right now I get a lot of hits and wounds and start bleeding.

Demonic entrails and blood is splattering the surrounding.

I just enjoy the slaughter while I make my way through the horde.

Every wound I receive in this state is like fuel to me and only keeps pushing me forward.

It feels like I’m a psyched up mass murderer on drugs, or mad man.

A Demon tries to parry my strike, but the Hellsteelblade which would normally withstand my strikes breaks right at the point of contact and he is cleaved in half from head to toe.

Another one loses half of his head and I push him out of my way before he even realizes his death.

The next Demon loses both his arms, the one behind him his left leg.

Demon parts seem to rain down wherever I go.

Slowly they seem to realize they can’t take me down this way.

I’m just another 15m away from the low Class Demon Lord.

Suddenly they change tactics and just simply tackle me, trying to take me down to the floor.

They start to get clingy and try to slow me down.

Too bad for them that my red aura is not just for show, it burns any demon that comes too close.

The gigantic, black armour constantly walks forward, swinging the sword with unbelievable speed, force and swordsmanship.

Demon parts are flying and blood is splattering everywhere.

Blooooood! HAHAHAHAHA! Give me more!

And what delicious pain! HAHAHA!

The demons in front of me all have a red skin, black horns growing straight up their head, split hooves, a long snake like tongue and split yellow pupils.

They have black claymores with runes smitten on them, which shine like the fire of the hell they were smitten in.

Hellsteelblades consisted of the Hellsteelore which was never found on earth.

It come literally out of Hell…or where ever these things came from.

They chip more and more small chunks out of me.

Normal human beings have no chance against these foes.

They are too slow, too weak, have not enough stamina and die far too easy from a hit.

And the only thing we are not superior is our mental strength, that can only be improved by rigorous training and experience.

More and more blood appears on me, some of it mine.

I’m in the middle of my blood frenzy and keep pushing forward.

Bloood! HAHAHAHA! How I love it! More! More! More!

You make so nice sounds when you die!

HAHAHAHA!

Finally, the Demon Lord himself!

Apart from the more intimidating aura, a cheap cape and better looking horns he looks exactly the same as the other demons. For me anyway.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar”, I roar as I storm towards him.

The low class Demon Lord pierces his sword in a swift move through a weak spot in my armour.

The blade comes out at the back of me, soiled with my own blood even though nobody is inside.

Just as fast as the blade went in he pulled it out.

I stagger a step back and the red mist in my vision clears for a second and my blood frenzy tunes down a bit.

I turn my claymore into a long sword and dagger and act more cautious.

Quite difficult when you just want to cut up things and kill.

I increase my speed to the utmost of my abilities.

Sparks are flying as our swords clash. He hisses and insults me in his guttural language.

At least I guess he did, I mean I don’t speak demon.

So actually I don’t know if he really insults me, but what else would a Demon Lord say to you?

Left slash, duck, kick, thrust, dodge, right slash, block and pierce.

We circle each other while we fight.

In the far back I see my Squad mates. They are just able to keep the small fry at bay.

Hmph, how disgraceful.

The Demon Lord is quite a handful.

He chips a big chunk out of my helmet, another big part out of my shoulder guard.

If this keeps going on I’m gonna die!

No, I will not die! I need to kill you to close the dimensional rip!

He doesn’t have an opening. So I guess I need to create one.

I kicked up a bit of bit of blood and body parts in his face.

He closes his eyes for a second, but that is all I need.

Quicker than the wind I chop his head of his shoulder.

The dark purple dimensional rift starts to close immediately.

I grip the Sword of the Demon Lord and absorb it.

That is one of two healing methods available to me. It is not very effective, but it works for now, closing the worst wounds and stopping the bleeding.

The other would be to drink human blood, it is not really effective either.

Both methods are dangerous, since there are heavy backlashes.

While absorbing Hellsteelblades might heal some wounds and increase physical capabilities it is a heavy burden on the mind. Every Hellsteelblade increases bloodlust exponentially and thus it is not considered worth the risk of an Armour or Controller going on a rampage.

Human blood doesn’t increase ones physical abilities, but over the over long term the Armour or Controller start to get addicted to it.

In the past there were even some incident of a Armour or Controller actually hunting humans and sucking them dry. After the detrimental effects were discovered both methods were strictly forbidden and only allowed for emergency situations.

Normally you have a pair: an Armour and a Controller.

Both of them get a considerate bonus in mental and physical abilities.

They are faster, stronger, have more stamina, better reaction speed and so forth, as well as increased mental capabilities.

The difference is that those with demonic genes(Armour) have bigger boost on their physical abilities, and only a smaller boost in their mental capabilities.

For those with angelic genes(Controller) it is exactly the opposite, but due to the increase of the mental capabilities many are capable of telekinesis and even more.

In a fight the Armour would wrap itself around the Controller, offering his/her body for protection, bearing most of the pain.

The Controller her-/himself acts like a powercore for the Armour and would boost the already increased physical capabilities twofold. Capable Controllers can even increase the boost to four times as much, while S ranked Controllers would be able to boost at least eight times as much.

One of the problems they face is the Armour losing control over his bloodlust and going berserk. The Controller must always be able to overpower this bloodlust.

The way a Complete actually works in battle is a bit confusing.

After a linking ritual between both of them, they share a mental link and communicate through that.

In a battle the Controller is responsible for enhancing this link, so that the minds of both actually kind of fuse together. Keeping both minds fused together and the boost active at the same time takes most of the concentration of the Controller. There are two other things the Controller needs to do.

The first one is to communicate with the team, the second one is to heal the Armour in battle as much as possible.

Opposed to that the Armour only has to fight and keep the Controller safely contained.

That might sound unfair, but due to the aforementioned mostly mental boost it is a possible task for the Controller.

In a battle a split second of distraction can mean death, so giving the Armour more tasks would mean death.

The normal way to heal an Armour would be to drink blood from the Controller. Since a Controller isn’t really human and they both have a soul bond the blood works wonders.

Obviously it also works the other way around.

To sum it up:

The Armour is the tank and damage dealer, the fighter at the forefront, the muscle.

The Controller is the support, healer, leader, tactician, the commander at the back, the brain.

Over time pairs form a deep bond and relationship, most of them falling in love with each other.

So yeah, I don’t have a Controller. She died years ago.

People like me, who lost either their Controller or their Armour are called Broken, because that is exactly what we are. We are mentally broken.

I mean we have our minds connected with each other, if your partner dies it literally feels like a piece of you dies. You have a connection with somebody, you can’t keep a secret from each other, share every thought, every memory, pain, joy, sorrow.

And then it just suddenly disappears. The other person is gone. Forever.

It is the worst feeling ever. Worse than the inserting process.

And you just slowly lose yourself.

You lose your sanity. Depression is a nice word to partly describe the slow progress in which your mind erodes.

You start to care less for yourself.

Wounds don’t matter. The pain is just nothing compared to what you experienced.

Different people react differently, but the outcome is the same.

You either sit in a cell and stare with empty eyes somewhere off into space, you go berserk or you just die because your heart stopped pumping.

For the last one a new cause of death was introduced: sorrow. It is only applied for Broken.

And yes, it is that bad.

Ever heard of normal people dying from a broken heart?

Well that is exactly what happens to us, only many times worse.

I'm not sure how I will die, but I guess it is either option two or three.

I like wounds. I can’t properly explain why, but I in my head I just laugh them off, knowing it is nothing compared to my loss I already suffered.

Also they kind if remind me, that I’m still alive

It is unusual for only one partner so to survive.

It is even more unusual for one to remain mental stable enough to continue fighting.

That is to not turn instantly insane.

I’m on my way to utter insanity, but I’m not there…yet.

So that said, I’m like a triple rare: I survived, I’m not (entirely) insane and I’m even fighting without a partner.

I’m even more powerful than most of my classmates and they are Completes.

I really hate that word, it always reminds that I lost her, the most valuable person in the world for me.

Most who survive and remain mentally stable enough to fight join the Retaliation platoon of their own free will. Just a nice word for suicide.

I didn’t join them because I made a promise to her.

After I’m done absorbing the sword of the low class Demon Lord, I transform my sword back into the claymore and start butchering the remaining demons.

I know it will be over in a few minutes and put every bit I have left into my rampage.

I put my pain of her loss, of the wounds, my rage about the butchered people and my hate towards the demons in my every swing.

After another five minutes my mind clears up and I start getting tired.

Boosting myself as I did is really tiring, much more than just a normal battle.

If I didn’t do that I could have fought on for another two hours.

My swings now lack the power behind them and I’m mostly just able to block and defend myself.

After another two minutes my Squad mates arrive and kill the last demon.

I’m so tired out, I stagger back against a wall and slowly slide it down.

I look at my team, Armour and Controller separate from each other and in front of me stand 8 people.

They seem unhurt, but a bit out of breath. We know each other already for 3 years and I’m the oddball and outsider.

And the fucking Squad leader. No idea who came up with this crappy idea.

Maybe it was joke and somebody took it serious?

I was told it was to increase my relations with my classmates and stuff like that.

I’m the only Broken in the whole of the British Isles, who is still at the Academy and getting training.

I’m the youngest Broken ever recorded, most lose their partner between 25 to 40.

Like most Broken I turned into an introvert and loner, not that I mind.

No people to worry about means no pain from losing somebody.

One was already enough.

As I slide down the wall, I turn back to my human form and cough up blood.

Shit, this bastard Demon Lord got some of my internal organs.

If I had a Controller, he wouldn’t even be able to pierce me.

“Gather the swords and the bodies, you know the procedure. I will rest over here. Good teamwork, but you take too long to kill them.”

“You know you are just an idiot! As our Squad leader you can’t just leave-”

“Hurry up, I feel cold.“

I start coughing up even more blood and I grunt.

They stare in shock at me. For the first second I seemed fine and unhurt, but now you could see my grey uniform starting to get soaked in dark black spots. Blood obviously.

“Hurry up about the swords or you need to carry my body back to the Academy.”

The reinforcements arrive, not that we needed them. They are one years above us and just like us coming back from a special training outside of the Academy. Headquarter dispatches Squads on the way back from training from time to time, if they are the closest one.

Even if they don’t stand a chance, in such events the Squad shall just stall the demons and buy enough time for reinforcements to arrive.

We were lucky the threat wasn’t above E, but just a minor F threat.

Something my Squad could handle.

Still Headquarter dispatched another team, just to be sure.

Better be safe then sorry.

I see ten Armours running towards us.

“Where are the demons? Who is your squad-leader? Report immediately! We need to hunt down the demons!”

Are they stupid? They are basically standing in demon parts!

Dark purple and black blood is all over the place.

I have no idea how you can’t see that.

“That would be me. I report: low class Demon Lord death. Dimension rip closed. Remaining demons exterminated. Squad losses zero. Squad injured one. Civilian causalities since our arrival unknown.”

“Whaa-What?”

“I repeat. Low class Demon Lord death. Dimen-“ I cough and spit more blood,” Dimension rip close-“

“I heard what you said, I was just surprised. So you and your team killed the low class Demon Lord. Where is your partner?”

“No, I killed the Demon Lord. My team held the Demons at bay. My Partner is death.”

“A Broken.”

The third years mutter it in a low voice like a curse. I hear disgust, fear and contempt.

Not that I really care about it.

“Ragnar, we have the swords.”

I get up from the ground and the wall I was leaning against.

There are around one hundred Hellsteelblades. I start to absorb them and my wounds start to close, mostly.

After I’m done absorbing I take a quick a look at myself.

My whole body is covered in scars, big and small, most of them a have black colour.

Some new wounds are visible, not yet black.

“Ok, let’s inform the inhabitants and then we leave.”

I stumble towards the big bunker in the middle of the town, my Squad right behind me.

My vision blanks from time to time.

The camera locks on us and shortly afterwards the big steel door starts to open.

My squad walks in, to inform the mayor of the situation. I sit down at the outside, leaning my back against the concrete wall.

I close my eyes, trying to take a quick nap. The cold starts to creep in even deeper, not that I really care. Then I finally hear a helicopter closing in to pick us up.

I’m not envious of the guys who need to clean this mess up.

I’m not sure it is a good idea to actually let the civilians out of the bunker now.

I guess many can’t handle such a gruesome sight.

I especially doubt it is good for the children.

It is not a nice view, but just reality.

On the way back I doze off.

As we approach the Academy I look at it.

The Academy is mix of a heavily fortified military base, a highschool compound and a fancy castle.

Blinking steel, grey concrete, coloured stone, giant glass panels and windows and flags are seen everywhere.

There are three layers of wall, the outer one is 40m high and 15m thick, the middle one is 50m high and 20m thick, while inner wall is 60m high and 25m thick. There are towers in the wall on which are either heavy artillery or air raid defences. In case of an attack these are manned by normal human soldiers. If you would man them with Completes would have just barely enough for every defence system on this compound.

There are hundreds upon hundreds of defence systems installed.

Inside the last defence ring is some kind of huge fortress.

In this building are all the classrooms, the library, arsenal, the offices and staff rooms.

The sports field, the gym, the swimming pool, the two simulation centers, a arsenal, the living quarters of the teachers, officers and other high staff were all situated between the second and the third wall.

Inside the outer most ring are the living quarters for the pupils and the normal soldiers, as well as a few shooting ranges and another arsenal.

And that is just the gist of it.

The mix of these three components: military base, school, castle was really weird.

In some places it mixed together perfectly, at the big plaza in front of the huge main building for example. Most students call the main building “the Tower”, in reference to the Tower of London, which was used as a prison.

Fancy paintings, mosaics or tapestries of epic battles against demons where right next to showcases of school projects, sport competitions and club meetings.

The timetable for the soldiers training hangs right next to their guard duties and pupils training.

It was weird seeing adult men and women in grey military uniform standing in between young teenage schoolkids.

Especially since most of the teenage schoolkids are taller than the adults.

Back in in the Academy I step out of the helicopter onto the landing platform.

My vision turns black for a moment, but I continue to walk on.

“I will write the report later. You are dismissed. See you in class.”

The landing platform we arrived on is one of many directly on the Tower and offers enough space for at least fifty helicopters to operate.

I don’t wait for an answer and leave for the underground laboratories.

After a few minutes I arrive at the elevator. The iris-scan completes fast, I step in and the metal doors closes.

This lift is only connected to the Laboratories and I’m allowed to one specific level. The speed at which we descend is quite incredible, but it still takes roughly another ten minutes before it slows down and finally stops.

The doors open and I step into a white corridor.

Over the years nothing has really changed in here.

Pristine white light illuminates the corridor, no spots, no dirt.

Scientists in white cloaks roam around everywhere, talking to each other, reading papers, typing away on their computers or working with gadgets and machines.

The only thing that really changed over the years is me.

I got taller, more muscular and have much more scars now.

Every time I come back, I’m more broken, more wounded and closer to my death.

I’m 16 years old, have brown hair and grey eyes.

I arrive at a small waiting room and notify the nurse.

“Doctor Orahara and Doctor Stein will arrive shortly. Please wait here Ragnar.”

I sit down and after a few minutes or so the door to the inspection room slides open.

“Ragnar, nice to see you again. How are you feeling this time?”

Doctor Orahara stands in the door. She is 1,6m tall, has black hair and eyes and is obviously of Asian descent. She is around 36 years old.

“Fine.”

“I see you are as talkative as ever. Come in. Stein is already preparing the machines.”

I walk in and start to take off my school uniform and strip down to my pants.

“What is that?”

Doctor Stein points at my abdomen, were a wound is visible.

His full name is Frank Stein, a German Scientist, 2m tall, but slender build. He has grey eyes and his dark hair has already lots of grey in it. He is around 40 years old.

“A low class Demon Lord pierced me. Nothing serious.”

They both raise their eyebrows in a questioning gaze.

“Hm, we will see about that. As always, first we will scan your body condition and then your Armour state.”

After 30 minutes or so the examination is over.

They have a troubled look on their faces. A normal person would not have realized the difference, but I know them for years. It is quite easy now to see past their poker faces.

Actually they look much more concerned in the last few months.

It isn’t really too difficult to actually guess why they would be.

“How much time is left?”

They look at me confused, while I put my clothes back on.

“Eh, what do you mean?”

“How long until I die. How long until the last bit of energy of her runs out. Or will I first go insane and go berserk? Or will my heart just suddenly stop? So just tell me.”

They glance quickly at each other.

So they thought I didn’t notice. I know that I keep pushing my body to its limits and this kills me faster than they expected.

“10 years, more than enough time for us to find a cure. You are the most important Broken we can conduct research on.”

I stare Doctor Orahara in the eyes. She lies.

So they don’t want to tell me.

That means I maybe have like two years left? Who knows.

I’m like a cancer patient, but my doctors don’t even tell me how much time I have left.

I take a last look at both of them before I leave.

Doctor Stein and Orahara both look at the data they gathered this time.

They were the experts in the field of Broken, the world renowned scientist regarding this matter.

The data suggested a already high level of metal in the blood of their patient.

A level of Hellsteel metal actually. They didn’t know how a Broken could live with this amount.

A normal Controller and Armour couldn’t even stand this amount.

The level in their favourite patient was always high, but in the last 6 months it spiked and made a surprising growth spurt so to say.

At the same time the remaining energy of his Controller dwindled faster than anticipated.

Their thesis so far was always that past a certain point a human would just simply die.

But he exceeded this point already 6 months ago.

The vitals are slowly weakening, but the muscle growth and bloodlust increases.

They aren’t really sure what actually happens to him.

“You see the same as I do, right?”

“Yeah. He is death, more or less. I give him three years at the most. You?”

“Two years. How many Hellsteelblades did he actually absorb over all this time?”

“10.000 maybe? I wonder how he suppresses his bloodlust. If he would have a Controller again I bet they would be our most powerful fighting unit. He is different than most of the Broken. His connection was only a few hours.”

“Absolutely. And his vitals would stabilize. I guess he is still sane, because of the remaining power of her. Even now he visits her grave every second day. I wonder if there is a Controller powerful enough to stand this amount of bloodlust.”

“You are right. I wonder about that all the same. We have waited long enough. He is closing in on deaths door, no matter what we do. We should test our last theory with him, if it works he will survive, if we fail he will die earlier than we expected. Either way it is just die late or die trying early.”

“I think the same. We should inform the Board of United Military Assistance about our assumption.”