The Totally Awesome Moving Otaku Number One: So, here it is! After so much freaking procrastinating, WE'RE FINALLY GOING TO PUBLISH IT.

azureCactus: Uh. Duh. Uh.

You know when some people just feel like they're invisible? Like, no one notices you?

Well, in my soon-to-be-class, that's considered cool.

I'm going to a class for flaws. Abnormalities. Those ignored by the rest of society. Those with special abilities. People that can kill.

Well, technically, the MACC class is for geniuses-not 'abnormalities', and we're free to pursue any career that befits our...exceptional educations. But then, when you learn 34 ways to kill a man and about seventeen different languages at class, it's basically like big tobacco telling kids not to smoke. We-Or at least me, the soon to be MACCer, knows lip-service when I see it.

Even my mom rolls her eyes when I call it 'Killing House' but doesn't correct me.

And she was the person who spent seventy-two hours standing in front of the MACC classroom, telling the teacher about how I was oh-so-good, and how he should let me in.

Finally, he agreed to let me observe them for a day.

I sit down in the corner of the classroom as all the children start walking in, and I close my eyes for a second, feeling the morning breeze, listening to the melody of life.

Slowly, I bring one leg up, and soon, the other, and begin meditating.

The birds were chirping.

The sun was shining.

Outside, children were playing.

To a stranger walking by, the classroom of MACC would look relatively normal. It had a chalkboard at the front with children sitting at their desks, scratching away.

But was it normal?

"We have a request."

I raised my head to look at the teacher. Seems like he still didn't notice me. Not like I mind, anyways.

The voice was ominous, coming from all directions. Instantly, some students stiffened up, some smirked in anticipation, and some simply stared at the chalkboard.

"No. 13."

A boy stepped forward, sweating slightly. "Boss, what is it?"

The person code named 'Boss' gave a small, cold smile. "You seeā€¦ There's a terrorist organization forming in the southeast corners of Europe, and they have been very...uncooperative lately. They are to be destroyed."

The boy fidgeted nervously. "U-uhm..."

"The name is OneWay, located in the country of Kosovo, in a small village near mountains. You will complete it by tomorrow."

The boy nodded, and walked back to his seat.

A small 'pop' was heard and the man sitting at the front, the 'Boss' disappeared.

And the class...

The class acted as if nothing happened.

I cocked my head from one side to the other, watching everyone's movements. Then I resumed meditating. Anything spoken now would fall on deaf ears.

"DUUNNCCAAN! LET'S GO PLAY CHICKEN!" Myria, a cheerful sixth grader, announced. To anyone wondering, Duncan (and Alec) were her 'chicken buddies' which were basically people who were obsessed with playing 'chicken,' known to the rest of the normal, sane, population as Four Corners or Squares, or something like that, as Mitra, lecturer extraordinaire, would talk about.

But then, MACC wasn't part of the normal, sane, population called 'the rest of the world.'

A tall fifth grader named Alysse came into view. "I don't get what's so great about chicken..." she huffed.

Myria, using her awesome-super-senses-which-do-not-actually-exist somehow heard what Alysse said. "IT'S A MACC SPORT, DUDE!" Myria yelled.

Alysse shrugged. "Meh."


Alysse sighed. "Seriously, Myria. I said 'meh.' That's all. Nothing more, nothing less."

"C-Chic-Chicken...I-Is..." Johnny, a short fifth grade boy, said. Or at least tried to. By the time he had finished saying that, Alysse and Myria were already gone.

"THAT WAS SO TOTALLY AWESOME!" Myria said, entering the room.

Duncan snorted.


On cue, the entire class glared at Myria.

Myria shrugged.

"This is awkward!" Kairen, the oh-so-innocent-angelic-sixth grader, exclaimed, flipping her hair back.

The class glared at Kairen.

Kairen pouted.

The class glared more.

Kairen smirked.

The class, surprised by Kairen's change in attitude, raised an eyebrow. That was the equivalent of normal people running around in circles. After all, it was common sense in MACC not to show emotions, unless it was on purpose.

Because in MACC, just by showing true emotion on your face, you could be 'retired.'

In other words, killed.

After all, you could be replaced.

"Class. I have something I need to tell you."

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

MACC was an independent class. Which meant that it didn't have anything to do with the school it was located in, and the students in the class...didn't really need the help of the teacher. Which meant that if the teacher came prancing in the class, it usually meant one thing: someone had retired.

"Well, what is it?" Erica, a tall Chinese girl, asked.

The Boss clasped his hands together. "It is rather unfortunate...but our friend Alec has...failed his job." He walked towards the door. "And so... he has retired." He left the room.

The class stared at the door for half a millisecond, and then went back to work, as if nothing had happened.

The question running through the back of everyone's mind. Who is going to be that unfortunate person who will replace Alec?

Soon, the class was back in its normal state, with people ducking paper airplanes, people yapping their heads off, and people throwing knives at a dummy. Yup. This was normal.

I sighed, standing up.

Screw the fact that I was meditating in one spot for more than an hour.

It was good for your health.

Slowly, I made my way to the front of the classroom.


The word was short, simple, and rather quiet, just like how I meant it to be... But it had a rather...unique effect. The class instantly quieted after kid spoke. In other words, me. Of course, I said the word as a greeting, but it also served as a warning. It was quiet, cheerful, but it had a hint of malice. This is what I was trained to do, after all.

...However, not at the moment.

"Hello," Myria chirped, "What's your name? Mine is Myria."

After a moment of silence, I answered."Kai."


Erica snorted. "Seriously? You have got to be kidding me..."

I opened my mouth to say something, but then closed it.


The bell rang.

I sighed and made a beeline to the door.


I turned around to face The Boss.

"What?" I asked.

The Boss smiled. "It's Friday tomorrow. Watch your back."

I sighed once again as I watched the retreating figure of the Boss. I sat down on the floor as the video began to play.

Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that another cool thing about this class is that instead of having those lame-o tours, they play this cool recording which introduces the whole MACC class history thing.

A small click was heard, and the tape began to play.

Welcome to the MACC class.

This is not a normal class.

Because, normally, the fat man is some kind of super-sidekick or in some cases, the main character.

However, in this story, the fat man will be the start of it all.

It was in the summer of 1853, when Matthew E. Macc, more commonly known as the fat man in the story, was being bullied, again, because of his plumpness. Or perhaps it because he simply refused to talk like everyone else. He had ditched the 'perhaps' and 'nor' and started saying 'maybe' and 'neither,' two words that he had invented in his spare time.

And that, my friends, is another thing that the historians got wrong. After all, history is written only by the winner. You only get to know one side of the story.

But, again, that is why this introduction is being written, to tell you the other side of the story. The side that is never told.

Back to the story.

That was normal, though. Being bullied back then was perfectly normal. After all, there weren't exactly counselors out there offering to comfort grown men.

So, little Ol' Matthew here, decided to shake it off and continue walking to his house, where his wife was eagerly waiting for him.


Matthew's ears perked up.


There. It was there again. The crack, as Matthew had nicknamed it.


Matthew sighed and stopped walking towards his house. To him, the cracking sound seemed to be following him. Turning around, Matthew attempted to start a conversation with the cracking sound. "HEY, CRACK! WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?"

For a moment, the cracking sound stopped.

Matthew grinned. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! I'M GONNA GET YOU!"

A small sound was heard, inevitably the sound of someone jumping off from somewhere.


A small girl stepped into view.

Matthew did a little victory dance. "YES! I GOT YOU TO COME DOWN HERE!"

The small girl stared at Matthew.

"Now..." Matthew started, taking out his pipe. "Mind telling me why you were following me? And how?"

The girl pointed at the roofs of the nearby houses. "Jump." She pointed at Matthew. "Help."

Matthew cocked an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that you jump on people's roofs?"

The girl nodded.

Matthew sighed, throwing his hands up. "Okay. So you're this crazy person who jumps on people's roofs. And you need help from me. Okay. How?"

The girl made a strange signal with her hands. "Friends."

On cue, several other people jumped down from roofs.

A boy, around seventeen or eighteen, stepped forward. "We want to serve our country."

Matthew snorted. "Oh. Hi, patriot number one."

The boy stared at Matthew before continuing. "My mother died. She was murdered. We would like to protect the citizens of this world."

"And how are you going to do that?"

The boy nodded to his friends. Slowly, they formed a circle.

Matthew watched in awe as they did things that no normal person should be able to do, like throwing knives at a wall and hitting bullseye every time, for example.

Matthew was speechless.

The boy stopped juggling rocks. "You have friends from the government. Help us. Make an organization. We'll save the world."

Matthew stared at the boy, sizing him up. "Who taught you this?" He shook his head. "Sheesh. Fine, I'll see what I can do."

The boy stepped closer to Matthew, holding up a hand.

Matthew sighed as he took the boy's hand and shook it.

Five years later, MACC, the organization that Matthew and the boy founded together, was probably the most well-known organization ever.

And it also wasn't much longer when the ranking system came into being.

The ranking system. The ranking system basically...ranks how 'abnormal' the MACCers abnormality is. For example, someone could have a really cool abnormality, such as..the ability to knock out all opponents in two seconds. Now, that's cool. But that isn't exactly 'abnormal' since anyone can accomplish that. So the person with that abnormality would be ranked low. The higher the rank, the better the abnormality, the more people want to hire you.

Your other statistics, like skills and performance, also factor in as well.

And since that's cleared up, we're going back to looking at our timeline of doom.

A good twenty years later, MACC became a class, teaching abnormal children with abnormal skills. MACC's purpose was to protect the world's population, by getting rid of every single other organization or crime group in the world.

Soon, there were ten classes in both Canada and the United States.

But unconsciously, MACC started to stray from their original goal...

Thirty-five years later, it was World War One.

However, every single textbook describing World War One was wrong in one part; It wasn't when Wilhelm II inherited the throne that World War One was starting. It started when one MACCer got bored and decided to have a war. (This MACCer conveniently had minor mind manipulation abilities... figure out the rest.) The rest of the MACCers agreed. So they chose sides.

Some chose to serve the Axis, while the other chose the Allies.

Now, MACC is a very competitive group.

But even though, to all MACCers, life is simply a boring game.

And so is death.

One of the main reasons that the Allies won was because of MACC.

And that was also the reason that MACC wasn't included in any of the history textbooks.

After all, no soldier would be happy when they found out that they got their asses saved by a couple of schoolchildren. No soldier would also be very happy if they found out that a couple of schoolchildren could destroy the world if they wanted to.

And that is why MACC isn't mentioned in any history textbook.

Twenty-five years later, it was World War Two.

Yup. You guessed it. Some MACCers got bored. (One of these MACCers also conveniently had minor mind manipulation skills.) MACCers aren't supposed to have emotion, but screw that. Starting wars was called 'experience.'

And so there was World War Two.

And once again, MACC saved many peoples asses.

Yet no one ever found out.

The government was scared of MACC. MACC could kick ass, and the government knew it. And so, the twenty classes of MACC on the continent of North America was reduced to only six. Each class now had only twenty people.

But little did they know that, year after year, the new MACCers would get better and better.

Thankfully, the organization known as 'MACC' decided that they would not be the ones to start another world war, so to control the abnormalities, they created something new.

And that was when the retirement system was born.

For people who don't know what the retirement system is, to put it simply, the retirement system is a system used to painlessly kill off MACCers. Basically, once an abnormal person becomes a MACCer, they get injected with a serum. The serum sends signals to the MACC HQ once every two months to send a report regarding the specific MACCer, like, the mission success rate, ranking, etc.

The main reason the retirement system was created was to simply eliminate all traitorous MACCers. If you have any bad attachment to the outside'll be retired before you know it. You fail a mission...retired. You do anything wrong...retired.

Retired as in killed.

There are a few flaws however, since the system takes time to activate the painless killing people part. But no one really cared, as long as it worked.

Now, lets get back to the story.

Sixty-seven years have passed since World War Two. It is now 2012.

This part is still blank.

Nothing big has happened...

So far.

And that, my friend, is the timeline of MACC.

You might be wondering why no world wars have happened for sixty-seven years.

Blame the retirement system... Or thank it.

All the political leaders were pretty sure that no war would be happening anytime soon, and there would be this long time of peace, since the MACCers are currently occupied with something called 'the Internet'

But that peace would not last long.

Since someone had figured out how to hack into the Retirement System.

The day that happened, the end was already marked.

Now, it was simply the calm before the storm.

The rainbow before the hurricane.

This is the story...

About the beginning...

Of the end.