I. Year-2020

The scalding heat bit at the back of my eyelids as if it were trying to blind me. I wasn’t used to this kind of pain. Normally, I just had a warm head, like I had a fever, yet this time, the pain was starting to become unbearable. It was just…odd. I wasn’t making any attempt to stop it either. Then again, it was four in the morning, the break of dawn wasn’t visible, and I felt like someone was pounding my head out, piece by piece.

Not fun.

I turned my head to face the carpeted wooden floor; except that wasn’t a sight I wanted to see that early in the morning. My floor was littered with many piece of paper, most of them containing random diagrams of machinery, some odd notes passed between me, Zane, and Lorraine, during the hellish place we call school, and about three sweatshirts. Never a good thing to see your messy floor that early in the morning. It causes a jolt, a shake, and usually a thud; landing you on the floor, face down, usually from surprise.

Pushing myself off the floor, I grabbed my head with one hand, and I walked up to the bluish light my computer was emitting. Jumping down into my swivel chair, I turned once, twice, three times, and faced the screen with a look of distaste etched on my face. My headache was killing me, and thanks to my chair, I was now completely dizzy as well. Using my left hand to move the mouse, the computer screen flooded to life, and the screen saver popped up. Moving the mouse again, I exited out of the many programs that were running, including some random instant messaging system, a text document, top to bottom, filled with random things I had to do during the day- yes, I had a to do list- and an Internet browser.

As the home screen appeared on my screen, I double clicked on the second button labeled ‘My Computer’, and watched as a series of complex diagrams filled the screen. Searching for the one I needed, I held my forehead with one hand. It was still burning like it did when my brain was being overloaded with data that I had no use for. Coming across the diagram I was looking for, I frowned at the sight of the picture on the screen. It looked like a cross-section of a wrist, and that’s exactly what it was. A computer graphic. Turning my own wrist over, I stared at the screen, watching as it showed that I was supposed to open some flap of rubber skin. I had done this a million times in my life, yet every single time I attempt to do it again, I freak out. I spaz. I refuse to do it, until the heat finally gets to my head. Watching my wrist, I take a screwdriver like thing off my desk, and my hand tenses up. I push the screwdriver against my skin, and it pops open, like a battery cover. Inside, there’s an array of wires, two red and yellow batteries, and one USB port. In case you don’t know what a USB port is, it’s part of your computer where you plug it to a zip drive, or a printer, or something like that.

Yeah, you probably think I’m a complete lunatic, completely mental, and that I’m just having a dream…er, make that nightmare. See, the thing is, I’m not completely human. I’m part robot. Around fifteen, to twenty percent to be exact. It’s completely different than, say, recombinant DNA. I have human DNA, yes, but the robotic part of me is dead. It has no life. I guess you could say I’m a cyborg, but unlike cyborgs, I’m not completely robot, and I’m not being controlled by anyone. Of course, I could be, but no one has tried to control me before. That would make me kind of mad, wouldn’t you think? To be controlled by someone? Anyway, I’m have a mind, and I can use it, rather than some idiot implanting thoughts in to me. I can do whatever I want to do. Simple enough, I. Am. Not. A. Cybernetic. Organism. I am simply Zarrahna Kyren Exeter.

As I flipped the back of my wrist off, I picked at a few of the wires, my body tensing up again. Every time I did this, I always start to fear that my brain will go, KABLAM!, and die, or that I would accidentally break something. Because I have a tendency to do those kinds of things. It's not fun, let me tell you. Do you spend half your time worrying if your shoelaces are tied, so you don't trip over everything? Yeah, didn't think so. Anyway. My head was still heated, and I felt the urgent need to go drown myself in ice cold water. Not that we had any that much ice cold water, so as to drown myself. But, as my head was still burning, I read, and re-read the entire screen at least fifty times, and then I lunged for the USB cable. One end was connected to my computer, and the other was soon going to be connected to my wrist in three...two...one seconds. I pushed it into the slot on my wrist and waited for the shock.

My knuckles shone white in the light as I grasped the side of my desk, so as to not feel the jolts of electricity make their way through my arm to my brain. See, that's the thing. This USB cable, yeah, it transported data between me to my computer. Data. That means that everything my brain decided to store in the last two to three months was now flooding into a set of files that would go straight to the lab. A laboratory. A place you never want to see the inside of.

I waited for the warmth to stop attacking my mind, and as it faded away, slowly, and the electricity started to calm down. Yeah, I faced this torture, about four times a year. My story is messed up, screwed up, and it's so freaking insane, that I'm not even going to try to explain it in my own words. Watch out, this is one helluva game, and it's a Mind Game.

-

II. Year-2007

The skies dimmed down on the quaint little town of Albrecht, Illinois. The street lights casting a glow, barely making a dent in the darkness. There was one place in the town in question where every window was lit with the light of fluorescent tube lights, and the building itself shone with a feeling. A feeling we humans know as accomplishment. There were many odd things happening in that building, yet they seemed to all be kept in the 'hush'.

“It's done! We have created the world's first generation of Cybernetic Organisms!” The man in a bright lab coat, shouted in glee. His face was almost bursting with joy as he saw the three children rolled into the room in strollers. They were all barely a month old, and two of them looked exactly the same.

“But, sir. These children, I can't be sure that they're the first ever. We're forgetting about ThinkSquad! They've been trying to create cyborgs since the day I arrived there! As soon as I joined the MindCorps, they have been trying like anything to finish them before us! I can never be sure that they don't have any of my data-,” Another male, much younger than the first man who spoke, was talking at such a fast pace that his words were slurred, and his face was bright red from the overexertion.

“Mr. Maddox! You did remove all your information from their databases when you left, right?” The man spoke, again.

“Yes, Mr. Gregor Zalen,” The Maddox fellow nodded, slowly, pronouncing the name of the scientist slowly, as if trying to hide the fact that he was hiding something.

“Then, Adam, I see no problem in proclaiming that we are the first.” Gregor said, his eyes gleaming in an evil, evil fashion.

Adam flinched at the sight, and averted his head to the three babies sitting align with the wall. There were three of them, and all three of them had families who had given them to the cause of science. There were two, though, that he was probably more interested in, than the third. He wasn't supposed to view the children as babies, as he might feel the pinch of trying to change them, but rather as experiments. Alas, he wasn't the kind of person that would use innocent children, without a rip against his conscience. Those two children, the ones that Adam was interested in, they seemed to be twins. They both had large, teal blue eyes, and gleaming with excitement, their pupils shaded, barely visible in the light. They had a way of communicating, mostly with gurgles, and small giggles. They had no clue about what was going on in their surroundings. They were both female, dark, dark black hair, and their names were printed on their wristbands. The first one, probably the most successful experiment of the bunch, was named Zarranha Kyren Exeter, and the other girl, the one that showed a bit more emotion behind her actions, was named Lorraine Xandra Exeter. So it was true. They were twins.

The third child was considerably quieter than the other two. He was completely normal looking, to Adam's eye, but when the scientist dropped to his knees to secure the locks on the stroller, he noticed one peculiar, oddity about the boy. His eyes, they seemed black when he looked at them above eye level, but when he peered at them at the level of the boy himself, his eyes, they glistened red. It was a cross between blood red, and black, his eyes were. Gasping inwardly, the scientist, Adam, pushed the stroller locks down, and jumped to his feet. He had never seen that eye color before. It had scared him, pathetically so. Squinting, he read the wristband on the male, frowning at the name: Zane Caden Kross. There was something different about this Kross kid.

“Adam! Come here! I need you to access the ThinkSquad headquarters!” Gregor yelled, calling the young scientist from his thoughts.

Taking one last look at the boy, Adam pushed himself up from the floor, and started walking toward Gregor and the computer, “I thought you knew the password!” he complained.

“It's been changed, I think. Just come here and try your hand at it, will you?” Gregor started, his face turning slightly red.

Walking over, Adam pecked some random letters, numbers, and symbols into the password box, and it ended up looking something like, (y80r9. Clicking enter, he grinned slowly, “I'm in.”

-

III. Year-2009.

“Lorraine! I wanted that laptop! Mr. Zalen said I could have it!” The high-pitched voice of a two year old echoed in the room.

“But, Zane! It's my favorite color. See, it's blue!” Lorraine said, her eyes gleaming in desperation.

“Awh, but Mr. Z didn't say that you could have it.” The boy pleaded, a fact backing his statement.

“Fine, meanie. You can have it!” Lorraine scampered off to fine her sister.

They were in preschool. They were in preschool at age two, the age that most children would be learning to sound words out correctly, and kick and throw a ball. Yet, these three kids, they were put in 'preschool'. Unlike normal children, they didn't learn how to glue paper together, or read stories. No. They were learning how to use a computer, type properly, and use the Spell Check function correctly. Their syllabus was nowhere near as simple as that of an average preschooler. Their lives were different from day one.

Sure, they had families, they had friends (each other), and they did everything a normal preschool did. Everything. They were friends, and they were also enemies. They were also competitors. Everything they did, be it a computer typing quiz, or a simple exercise of using a tricycle properly, they were aiming for the same thing, to be the winner. To have the glory of feeling like they were the best, to feel the accomplishment of their tasks upon them, they needed it. Lived for it, would probably be a better statement, actually.

Their families…they were different, to say the least. The Exeters, proud parents of the twins, Zarranha and Lorraine Exeter, and the Krosses, also proud parents, of the one and only, Zane Kross, were both, you could say, scientific families. Their lives were put on the line, as anything they did that could impact the small children. There was more to the story; they attempted to be normal families, as if their children were not cyborgs, or that their children weren’t little geniuses. Frankly, if there was a line between toddler and genius, these kids erased that line. That line was no longer there. To Zarranha, Lorraine, and Zane, they had no idea that they would be considered ‘ingenious’. To them, they thought that they were normal. They didn’t mind that they had a different lifestyle than the other kids their age; they didn’t know of other kids their age. The toddlers, their lives, they took place in such quarantine-like facilities, the faces of what they should be seeing hidden away from them completely.

“Zarra! Where are you? Zane took my computer. I need hellllllp!” Lorraine stretched out her words, like any other two-year-old

“I’m right here, Lorr,” Zarranha replied calmly.

Though Zarranha was younger than Lorraine, even if it was just by a few minutes, Lorraine thought of Zarra as her elder. Zarranha was, unlike most anyone, a kind of person that didn’t panic at the sight of trouble. She didn’t jump to conclusions when problems came to be. She wasn’t one to trust someone, unless she had a credible reason to trust him or her. Zarra also wasn’t one to keep an open mind, something that helped her a lot, as her opinions could never change, though this characteristic could be viewed differently, from an outsider’s view. Zarranha was just simply one of those people that no matter how much older someone was than her, or how much younger, they ciuld still look up to her as she had great qualities, these things that people tend to value much more than others.

“But, Zarra! Zane took my laptop,” Lorraine couldn’t help the desperation in her voice. It was second nature to her. If Zarranha was part one, than Lorraine was part negative one. If Zarranha used a black crayon, Lorraine used a white one. They were complete opposites, and though secretly, Zarranha despised her sister greatly, Lorraine loved Zarranha. It was a complexity, but neither one could argue. They were simply twins, enemies, and friends rolled in one.

That leaves us with Zane Caden Kross. Zane was always considered the odd one out; he didn’t have a counterpart in this group. For Lorraine, there was Zarra, and for Zarra, Lorraine. It was like they had equals, yet they were never really equal. Zane was always, always left out. And sickly enough that was the entire point for this crazed experiment. What these young kids didn’t know was that they were part of an equation set to rule the world. No, seriously.

Zane was different. His eyes were red, and he was unusually silent most of the time. He had trouble understanding people, and he would much, much rather try to understand what his life means to him. Clearly, to the world, he was seen as well, ‘weird’. Frankly, he was not one of those people to care, but when his own best friends, Zarranha and Lorraine, were the only people that could truly hurt him with the words they say to him every day. What the child’s mind doesn’t understand is that when people say something to someone close to them, it tends to have a bigger impact on them, while if a stranger, someone they had just met, they would just shake it off and go on with their life. What the twins did not understand about Zane is that he would be the one to rebel against his friends, the first. He was going to do what he wanted, no matter what Zarra and Lorr would do to him.

“Lorr! Gah. If you want that laptop, then go fight for it! If it’s your’s, like you say it is, than you should be the one to use it! Is that hard to understand?” These were the words spoken- by a two year old- Zarranha Kyren Exeter. One thing you have to understand, these kids, they were not normal two year olds. Within just five years, they would begin to rebel.

Rebel against their entire life, and try to prove it wrong.

By age 17, these kids were going to achieve their goal, with the help of their rivals.

Author's Note: Squee. This is my NaNoWriMo, but not all of it. I have a lot more saved on my computer I'm just not uploading it now. Aye. Tell me what you think, please!