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♚ Story Compendium

Main Theme (Will be added to and changed as things are more thoroughly discussed). Over 1000 years have passed since the solar system's first integration attempt. As many of the originally colonized planets become increasingly unlivable, new technologies have allowed for sentient beings to develop life elsewhere. Natural resources are scarce, and while technology makes up for much of what was lost, organic materials are in high demand. Lack of information control and the introduction of global currencies has given rise to organized crime. This story in particular focuses on one such group that controls a large part of the middle-western solar system.

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Age 29, Bentley was changed. Not just in the empty space now from his elbow down, or the low blood pressure now coursing his veins, but the betrayal of the people he thought had the bravery to do what was right. The people he once considered his friends. A lone man, with no family at home to question his whereabouts, it was easy to force his stay at the hospital. He was a troublemaker, after all. Commander Joel ordered him to be under strict supervision, lest he rouse more havoc. It was easy to say that nearly a year in the confines of the hospital drove him a little mad – a little quirky. But at 30, Bentley made his escape. It only took him a few months to make a prosthetic for himself, but oh, was it fine-tuned to suit him. His best creation yet – his masterpiece. He spent the latter part of the year making the prosthetics as the military wished, all the while adding details to his own to make his getaway. It was a day with Commander Joel Foster himself was to keep watch over his dear little brother. (He wasn’t always at the hospital, being a busy commander – there were other missions that required his attention.) The year had instilled a fear of the military in Bentley, but that day, he made his move. Bentley attacked his brother, very easily overpowering Joel with the metal arm – more than intended. It horrified Bentley, that the unrefined metal could cut through the thin skin of a human’s neck with so much ease, but there was no time for it. He dashed through back rooms, halls, past the militant security, and to his freedom.

The hospital closed shortly after Bentley’s retreat, the military’s commander being in a critical state. All evidence of their operation was quickly eradicated. Bentley wasn’t safe, he knew, and nor was Asche – without their hospital, the city was bound to face a crisis. As much as it enraged him, he had to leave. He couldn’t do anything for them now. It was barely a week of hiding in plain sight before he found himself kidnapped – by the mafia, no less. Two annoying little henchmen (or angels, one might argue) that swooped him away.