Warning: This fic contains VERY descriptive sexual interaction between two men, or just graphic everything. The content of it may also be disturbing. Turn around if you have a weak stomach.

Unworthy

Part I.

My name is Erizein Incendere, eighteen years-old heir of the purest blood in this filthy universe. My full title is Prince Erizein Incendere, Noble General of Kamikaze 02, Class 1 Rank 1 of Earth 03. I am the almighty Prince of the Kamikaze 02 pilots, the cold-hearted General, and also the most stubborn son of a bitch I know. I killed my parents to come this far in the bizarre martial organization that, ironically, my father had created in his youthful days. He was getting old, so I killed him.

I am also the esteemed or detestable - however you wish to put it- pilot of Genesis X, the most condemnable but powerful piece of shit you will ever see. Constructed of indestructible metal, embellished for its royal entity by red tinted pure diamond, Genesis X is my Kamikaze suit. I - or should I say - we are indestructible, insuperable in any degrees. I am Genesis X and Genesis X is me. As long as my weak flesh and muscle fit perfectly into the suit, Genesis X belongs to me. I have constructed it for that sole purpose.

Inside the suit is my weak body submerged in Synthetic Life - chemical created to sustain the pilots in their Kamikaze suits. To become a Kamikaze 02 pilot is a difficult task for you can die in the suits. Synthetic Life not only provides you with oxygen while you're in the suit, but it also paralyzes all your nerves, just so your body can focus hard enough to breathe in the foul chemical. Due to the paralysis of your nerves, if your suit is cut and you lose a limb, you won't know about it until you are an inch away from death. Now even the simplest minds can understand why we call ourselves Kamikaze 02 pilots.

Once you get into the suit and it locks you in, thousands of needles pierce through your skin to link your mind to the suit. The pain is quite delicious, sweet and invigorating enough to drive you to satanic anger. Before you know it, you will have blood dripping from those handsome metallic claws.

Currently I am on Earth 01, the most polluted piece of shit I have ever seen. Due to my idiotic father's miraculously ingenious plan, mankind has created three Earths; Earth 01 is the original, Earth 02 is its sister, and beautiful Earth 03 is the youngest and most beautiful one.

Earth 01, to put it delicately, is Hell itself. Infected, inferior humans walk on the dirty soil only to grime it even more. Earth 01 is where the old ones, sick ones, and the poor ones are imprisoned on. Once a year, I choose a Kamikaze pilot to accompany me in Elimination - the process of decimating a part of the useless population. I have chosen Stryker, my loyal friend, to accompany me this time. It is rather an irritating process, the pleas and tears get on my nerves.

I watch through the blood red shades of Genesis X as Stryker drags a woman to the Elimination Pit - it's just a big pit of fire and spikes to, respectively, burn and skewer the useless bodies. She screams, scratches and bites at his suit, Genesis XI. Pitiful fool, a desperate human makes any feeble attempt to survive. Surprisingly she manages to push Stryker away, only to lunge at me, so I lash out with my fully stretched metal claws. The old wrinkled flesh rips nicely in one swipe.

"Mother!" another one of those infected humans come to protect the dirty woman. She screams and sobs into her hand, and I raise up my shades to see that it's a boy. A mere, pathetic, useless boy dares to come and interfere. I hear heavy metal footsteps and Stryker, in his gigantic Genesis XI suit, positions himself above this boy and snatches him up.

Instantly I grab his mother and throw her into the Elimination Pit, her screams drowned out by her son's. I can feel that familiar tug of lips as I hear her body being pierced by cold metal. I shut the shades down to block out the smell of burning flesh, grab the boy from Stryker's grap, and shove his face into the rising smoke. He pleases me by merely coughing while calling for his stupid mother.

He is rather fragile, his quivering shoulders are thin and pale like his fearful visage. Bending him over and keeping him down with my foot, I grab his wrists and crush them, one by one, and revel in the delightful screams from his lips. An old man comes up to me staggering, and the mechanical adrenaline rushes into my body as I turn to face him.

The pathetic old man pants disgustingly as he tries to speak, "My Prince, please... spare my grandson..."

That dirty bag of rattling bones flies as Stryker connects a fist into the hideously creased face. Yet the old wretch lives, only to crawl to my feet and beg, "Please... he's too young to die..."

"He may be, but you're not," my metallic arm shoots out, reaches into his chest, and soon I feel the faintly beating heart in my claws. My arm snaps back out, and the heart comes along too. The boy tries to muffle his screams with his hands, his eyes wide with all too familiar fear. As soon as the pitiful heart stops beating, I squeeze the life's essence out of it by puncturing it with my claws. It falls on the ground with an amusing sound. I look at the old man, too bad he died so quickly.

"Grandfather...." he mewls as he tries to crawl over to the body with his broken wrists. I nod at Stryker, who responsively grabs the old man's body and throws it into the Elimination Pit. The young head snaps up and, for the first time, I see that his eyes are pure gray shaded by his pale violet hair. I look into his eyes too long, they're hypnotizing. I realize just in time that Stryker has his metal fists formed into a giant hammer to strike. I order him to stop and say, "I am Prince Erizein Incendere, do you know who I am?"

He nods. Good.

"What is your name?"

"Chimeres de la Coeur..."

"From now on, you have no name. You will serve me as my slave," as I say this he looks at me with such hatred. The look does not fit him at all, it's a daring look. To fix it, I grip his arm and dig my claws into the skin. Bending down, Stryker adds, "You will obey the Prince and do as he says. Now get into the ship."

My slave does as he is told, stumbling as he is pushed, and boards the ship. I follow; the Elimination is over. I have more interesting matters to attend to. As soon as I am inside my private chamber on the ship, I remove the suit. The suit cannot be removed in the fashion of regular garments, it is a matter of summoning and expelling it. My regular attire consists of a simple, light armor and long black cape, fit for a Prince. There is a metal mask across the lower half of my face to cover my face. A royal face should not be exposed to the common eyes.

I walk out to the control room, where the pilots control the ship with their minds. There are no buttons or childish sticks to control the ship. Stryker drags in the slave, dressed in his regular attire as well, and throws him onto the cold floor. I just notice how the boy's waist-length hair is the only point of his vanity, his radiant skin is dulled by his tears and his clothes are worn out. I hate the soft, vain violet color in his hair. I grab a handful, yank his head back, and say, "Stryker, hand me your sword."

I hold the beautiful blade in my hand, running my fingers riskily over it, and slowly bring it to the slave's neck. His quivering skin teases the glinting blade, I lick my lips as I take the scent of his hair to my nose. The common peasant's smell is missing, I smell blossoming apple and tangy scent of citrus. After the quick flash of the blade, I am now holding the strands of hair, separated, in my hand. I smirk at the blooming triumphance and whisper in his ear, "Damn peasant. Such regal appearance does not suit you."

The Preparer of the Slaves comes in and bows to me. His robe is covered in dry blood and hair, his ears now deaf to the screams and cries. On his belt he carries an electric whip, the Identity Burner, and the Remover. The Remover is a very interesting piece of equipment since it serves a very unique purpose. He looks at my slave, his inferior eyes casting a lustful glance, and says, "Strip, boy."

Everyone's eyes are on the boy, watching as he slowly slips off his rags, and instantly hands try to reach for him. I stop them with a single glare; he is my slave. Automatically a metal table pops up and I personally place the slave on it. Normally I would've let Stryker touch a slave, but I don't want anyone else touching this boy. Chimeres - was that the slave's name - squirms, his wrists and ankles soon clamped down by shackles.

"Mark him as my personal slave," I order, my arms crossed and my eyes looking right at the Preparer. The disgusting bitch flinches at such personal request. No slave has ever been ordered to be my personal possession. The scarred hands move the Identity Burner slowly to the slave's neck, setting it hot enough to scorch the skin, and press it against the neck. Satisfaction fills me with the sound of the screams and the smell of burning skin. After few seconds, the royal symbol becomes a permanent feature on my slave's skin. When I see the Remover move onto my slave's body, I stop the process.

"Stop. That is not necessary this time."

"But, my Prince, all male slaves are to be castrated."

I see the slave's eyes widen at this, mine narrow in turn. No one challenges my authority. No ugly bastard will question my order. I snap my fingers and order the Executioner to enter, then silently point at the Preparer. The fading scream of the treacherous man is quickly dissipated before it reaches my ears. No hands but mine shall touch my slave.

TBC

clarification:

1) Erizein means to wrangle... it's Greek or something like that. Incendere: to burn.... also Greek (I'm assuming)

2) Chimeres de la Coeur - Moonlight of the Heart. He's not French, but he was just given that name. It sounded pretty. Nyohohoho...

3) The Kamikaze 02 suits are armors that can be summoned and expelled at will. They are made to fit the body perfectly, so they are not robots. But the wearers are called pilots because they control the suit with their mind. Genesis X is the strongest suit, since it was made for and by Erizein. Stryker's Genesis XI is a toy compared to Genesis X. Erizein's suit is equipped with more speed, strength and endurance. It also looks cooler.

4) Erizein hates Chimeres because Chimeres is beautiful. And he killed his whole family to gain control of Earth 03.

please R&R!