Months had passed since Meditat began spending his nights in the city, prioritizing this new life above all, even the life he had back on the campus, the one that he had been building on for all his life. With more time he spent in the field, the more immersed he became in this new mission, spending every moment thinking about it, even throughout the day when he was attending his classes, since he was still a college freshman.
He spent the mornings fantasizing about new improvements to implement, then he spent the afternoon designing and creating those very improvements, returning to his dorm room as quickly as possible after his last class to start work. He'd work until the sun would go down, and once the campus outside was clear, he'd get ready to get back out into the city, always making sure that nobody would see him when exiting his room, which he'd always do from the window.
Protecting his identity was still crucial, as being exposed would spell likely death for him, and the subsequent death of his mission, possibly robbing Versepolis and maybe even more of an Exhuman who'd be willing to fight for them rather than against them.
After a few run-ins with the police in which he had to escape before being detained however, he knew he was on a slippery slope, and he didn't have the best reputation, especially not one of a savior. He had only been known to intervene on Exhuman attacks, but that was it, he had never been known to actually stop any.
He hadn't defeated a single Exhuman yet, and until the day he could, he'd never be anything more than a child chasing a stupid dream that most people would see as just that: a dream.
The blue supersun sets, and the day begins transitioning into the night. The light shines through the towers of the city in the far distance from the campus, being caught on the titanic dorm buildings that sit on the corners of the entrance field. The field was empty by now, as most people were inside their dorms, or at least in the longues spending time either with themselves or with their friends, likely staying past the defined curfew.
There were still some people out, as the gym center always had some people working at any time in the day, it was a given. There were still some students in other facilities, with some studying in the media center, however they knew they'd have to leave soon.
Of course, while it wasn't exactly an official activity at the university, at later times such as the evening and especially night, there were a number of parties going on. Most of them were in the housing off campus since partying in the dorms were more dangerous since they could be shut down by faculty, and the majority of parties were run by upperclassmen such as seniors.
While there were parties for all types of people, only certain ones were truly popular and lively, although the larger parties ironically had the greatest amount of restrictions. Students who were allowed into the parties required a certain social status, and needed a certain personality that would fit the energy, hence the general makeup of the party were rowdy carefree kids who didn't pay attention much to their studies, with strong charisma that made them likable to those who hosted the events.
While such parties were not meant to take place, especially because they usually included certain substances and drinks that students weren't meant to take and consume, almost everyone who attends the university knows about them.
Even the professors knew, and yet nothing was ever done about it, and so they continued to thrive at nights, leading to many tired students in morning classes, with them usually being the popular students.
While many students are out partying and drinking their hearts out, with music blasting out of speakers and radiating the room along with the student's conversations and singing, room A50X20 was completely silent, and the lights were off, as though nobody was inside at all.
While many students dance together with cups in their hands, the only student inside room A50X20 sits at his desk, with three holographic screens in front of him, and a holographic keyboard and mouse by his hands. The only source of light are the screens and peripherals, as the light of the sun diminishes, abandoning the room.
Rather than wearing his blue armored suit, Meditat instead wears his casual jacket with long black pants, although he doesn't wear a shirt, as the temperature was becoming greater as spring continues, and he also found that it felt easier to heal his wounds when they weren't directly covered with his shirt, even though that sound typically sound counterintuitive.
His hair had seemingly gotten longer over the past few months, with strands messily over his face, as he didn't think about maintaining a presentable appearance while working. His blue eyes move across the different screens as he types on the keyboard, focusing on his work, currently putting research into developing new capacitors.
On his body, he has a variety of injuries healing, with a few cuts on his chest and purple bruises on his abdomen by his ribs. Most of them seem to be deep into healing, however he had acquired a few scars that seemed permanent, such as a cut under his chest.
On his left screen, he has the program centered around A.I compatible databases, as while he had stopped coding Orial for a while to allow for natural developments, he focused on providing him with more resources; he had developed his own databases while also using several useful public ones.
On his center screen were four windows, with a search engine on the top left next to a website with images of circuitry, and under it was a video lecture explaining white noise next to a news feed full of reports of recent Exhuman attacks.
Finally, on his right screen were several designs of his suit, with different poses and angles along with more specific drawings of certain components. The models had their arms extended and horizontal, designed to make it easier to render it to three dimensions.
His setup was still the same as always, effective and enabling him to do all the work he had to do at the same time, optimizing on the time he had before going out into the city.
While Meditat works silently, he lets out a soft breath, wondering what adventures he'd have tonight, and what Exhumans he'd come face to face with. He wonders how close he'd be to another victory, and why he'd inevitably fail in the end.
While he tries to stay optimistic, he couldn't help but feel tired out from all the losses, and sometimes he felt like he was pointlessly throwing himself into harm's way for nobody's benefit. He felt as though he had hardly helped anyone, and yet he was still going out every night to the city.
He had lately been questioning his motives to continue these suicide charges, as the more he was beaten, the more he questioned why he found himself getting back up.
At least he knew that those he was fighting against wanted something, wealth, sadistic entertainment from the struggles of civilians, power, or fear from others. They were awful reasons to do what they did, but then again what they were doing to begin with was also awful.
But at least Meditat was confident in knowing their reason, while he was unsure if he even knew his reason.
He wanted this, but why?
While Meditat scrolls down the website, his Connect projects another screen, although it is a smaller popup screen for notifications, which sits in front of the left screen.
The screen displays a text message sent by Shuraj, and Meditat reads it, which says: 'Yo btw we're fligin to a party now, Josh George is hosting, wanna come?'
Right as Meditat finishes reading the message, another one appears, which goes: 'I know him so that's how everyone else is coming, and I can tell him that I know you too so it's yug'.
Meditat sighs, and he contemplates an answer, as he had gotten many of these messages. Before he says anything, one more message appears: 'It'll be fun, come onnn, u need to anta sometimes'.
Meditat rolls his eyes, and he lays back on his chair, seeing just how hard Shuraj was trying to get him to go. He knew that he had hardly spent any time with his friends in months now, and even less time with Erica. If Shuraj sent tides of texts at him asking to join him in activities, Erica sent tsunamis, however Meditat's answer was always the same.
He felt bad for rejecting every offer, as part of him did want to spend some time with them since it would be relaxing, however he didn't want to sacrifice time away from his new mission, and so he had to hold back those pulls.
The screen becomes larger to show more of the text history, and along with a text bar, as if letting him respond. The screen becomes the focus, as the keyboard binds to it.
Meditat types on his keyboard, writing a reply to Shuraj, as his words appear on the text bar. He types: 'Sorry, I have work tonight, I can't. But thanks for offering.'
He keeps his fingers hovering over his holographic keys, and stares at the screen, contemplating rewriting the message and finally accepting the request.
He had only spent time with Sriya in the morning for practice or games, and he only spent time with the others during their first class and between classes. Meditat spent the most time talking to Shuraj during class and between, while also having moderate conversations with the rest.
One party couldn't hurt to go to, one night away from the city couldn't be too bad. And if it was making his friends happy, he'd be saving someone in a way, right?
Meditat deletes the message he had typed rather than sending it, and he types up a different message: 'Sure, where and when?'
Meditat's ring finger hovers over the enter key, and he stares at the message, feeling his body tense up as if pressing the key was such a challenge.
It would only be one night, one night with the boys, one night where he wouldn't have to worry about enduring more pain.
One night where he could be Rohan again.
Meditat closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as a war wages in his head, conflicted between where to go.
One night might not seem like much, but Meditat didn't know what would happen tonight. He didn't know what acts could be committed, and who could be hurt. He didn't know if he could do anything to stop it, or at least save some people.
Also, even if it was only one night, would it stop with that if he gave himself that leeway? If he started getting lazy, would he still be able to stay on course? It could start with one night, and eventually become a week, a month, and eventually he could give it all up. Sure, it was a gruesome task, but he couldn't turn away from being Meditat. It was a commitment that he had to keep, regardless of how much it hurt him.
He had the chance to be someone nobody's been, the chance to give people someone they've desperately needed.
Meditat opens his eyes, and he deletes the message he had typed out. He then retypes the message again, typing a response for the third time: 'I can't go to the party tonight, I have work.'
He takes a deep breath, and before he could rethink his actions, he presses the enter key.
The message is sent to Shuraj, and it appears in the chat history with Shuraj, right in front of Meditat's eyes.
Meditat stares for a few moments, and the screen then vanishes, leaving Meditat back to his other three screens that he was working on earlier. However, rather than continuing to work as before, he could only stare blankly, as it felt as though he had just stabbed himself in the stomach.
He breathes slowly, and puts his left hand on his forehead, pushing up his hair. He places his elbow on the desk and rests his head, his eyes staring at the right screen, staring at the different images of the suit's design. His eyes contract to almost a tired gaze, as he stares at the suit, his chains and whip, his cage and key. Nobody had asked for him, in fact if anything, it seemed the police didn't want him around. Nobody was burdening himself with this responsibility.
Nobody was paying him, his only salary was more hours.
But it was still his mission, it was still his duty. It wasn't his job, nor was it a career. He wasn't sure what it was, an extreme hobby, a passion, volunteer work. But whatever it was, it was his.
Meditat pushes back his chair, and he stands up to his feet. He turns to the window, and walks towards it, leaving his desk. His chest shows between his unzipped jacket, and his blue eyes look out at the sky under his black hair.
Meditat closes his eyes, and the three screens by his desk along with the keyboard and mouse all vanish at once.
Meditat then opens his eyes, having closed his Connect's holograms. He then speaks, "Orial, wake."
Orial speaks to Meditat, "Hello Meditat, do you wish to deploy soon?"
Meditat stares down at the setting sun ahead, the blue glow lighting up his face. He nods his head, and says, "Yes, I do. I wanted to give you a quick heads up here, I'll be turning the Connect off now, okay?"
Orial answers, "I understand, very well."
Meditat takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out. He puts his hands by his side, and he lowers his head, ready.
The window of the room opens up, allowing the powerful winds to enter the room, blowing against Meditat's body. Meditat's jacket starts flapping backwards as his hair rustles, and the sound of the nightly wind hits his ears.
The supersun continues descending as the wind consumes the room, picking up Meditat's hair in its current. Meditat's whole body glows blue from the sunset, and he slowly begins walking towards the window.
Meditat's blue eyes glow brighter, first from the sun, and then from his energy, as the blue glow expands to even the sclera, turning both of his eyes completely blue. They give off their own glow, and streaks of energy run up each eye and to the forehead, as he summons his energy from within.
His chest begins glowing blue as well, and streaks of energy branches off of it, running down his limbs. The streaks of energy run to his hands before covering them, and the streaks from his eyes run under his hair before seemingly vanishing. The streaks of energy widen as he walks forward.
Meditat's whole body begins glowing as mist generates around him, creating a cloud with him in the center. The blue mist covers his body before it begins hardening on him, solidifying to create the beginning of his armor.
The hardened mist then begins to shape more intricately, creating the heavier shoulders and forming the boots. On his waist, a thicker construct forms around him, almost like a belt. The belt begins being trimmed with ravines between curved plates.
The neck guard forms, however it stops under Meditat's chin, halting the creation of his mask.
As the armor besides the cape and mask finishes shaping, it starts colorizing, as the majority of the plates change to a different shade of blue, and then dawn the metallic texture.The shoulders become gold as does the new belt around Meditat's waist, defining itself with a metallic texture.
Mist remains behind Meditat, where the cape would be, and it begins hardening over Meditat's shoulders, creating the wavy and silky chainmail cape. The blue mist continues off of the top of the cape, and begins crawling up Meditat's head, as if to begin creating the hood for him.
Meditat brings his gauntlet-covered arm up to his ear where his Connect is, and he softly pulls it out, disconnecting his Connect and hence turning it off. He then lightly tosses it backwards and onto his desk as the hood finishes hardening to the similar silky chainmail texture and both the hood and cape colorize to black as they're meant to be.
Blue mist then crawls around Meditat's head, and shapes to create his mask, covering his face. The mask hardens and then colorizes to white, completing the final bit of the suit, and the goggles light up blue. The suit seems to complete itself, however it hasn't been finalized yet, and the light behind the goggles glows brighter than before, as if powering up even more.
Suddenly, the mask above Meditat's eyes where the streaks had gone up seems to be carved out, revealing the blue glowing streaks running up the eyes and to the forehead. The streaks seem to vanish under the hood until wider streaks appear at the end of the hood above the streaks on the mask, and continue up, running up his head and over down to the bottom of his hood before sharpening to a tip.
On Meditat's white mask, smaller carvings start appearing as well, as three small holes form on his right cheek, holes shaped something akin to a sharp-edged pencil icon with a tilted back. The three holes then light up with the color of the energy under his suit, the same color in his eyes, and a long carving appears on the left cheek, this being a singular long one that runs from next to his goggles down to his chin in a sharp line almost as though he had a headset microphone attached into his mask.
On Meditat's blue plated chest, a much larger carving appears, shaped like a pencil similar to the ones on his mask, however far larger, and with only one. The emblem carves out on the front of his chest, tilted with the tip pointing to his left side, and his chest glows blue from the energy that comes from his chest.
Carved streaks form from the chest, with one running up from the end of the pencil and up into the edge of the golden shoulder, and two from the sides close to the triangle , which run down his arms over the blue plating.
One great streak runs from the tip of the pencil and down the white and black abdomen before vanishing into the belt, as three more smaller parallelogram shaped openings form on the right side of the abdomen, with one parallelogram on each of the colored individual plates, with one on the white plate between two on the black plates. Two streaks form in the plates of the belt, and another pencil icon forms in the center of the belt, with all three glowing blue.
The streaks running up his arms run through the side of his blue gauntlets to his wrist, where glowing bracelets form around.
Under the golden belt, two wide streaks of energy become visible as carvings form from the belt down each blue and white striped thigh, cutting through the center and down under the boot.
On each black boot, four sharp parallelogram shaped openings form on the knee, illuminating.
Meditat stops in front of the window as he puts his right hand on the bottom of the window, and as he does, a streak of energy extends off of the bracelets and to the back of his white gloved hand, which then branch off for each of his fingers and thumbs, reaching the fingertips, which illuminate softly.
Meditat's suit finally finishes, as the ventilation system completes itself, with a thin transparent layer of energy in the ravine to protect it from precise attack.
After finding himself running into several energy-related problems, he had created a whole complex cooling system for the suit, along with a capacitor belt, which stores excess energy. While his own power had become adequate, he needed his suit to be able to keep up if he wanted to fight at his best.
Now, his body lights up far more than it did before, as the goggles used to be the sole source until now.
Meditat throws himself over the window, leaping out of his dorm and into the air, flying against the winds. His cape starts blowing back as his blue eyes look out, and he boosts forward, gliding in the air above the campus.
As his whole body pushes itself forwards and towards the roads to the exit gates, he stares on ahead, looking out at the city ahead in front of the sun. His glowing body flies over the campus like a shooting star, returning to the city to fight and protect it again, or at least try his best to.
He feels the wind push against his body, as if trying to hold him back, yet it is unsuccessful as Meditat fights against the current, his own being stronger.
In the end, he chose the hard life. The one that was isolated from his friends. The one that was isolated from his love. The one that was isolated from relaxation. The one that was isolated from security and safety.
He had a free trip to a party where he could spend the night with his friends, and as he glides over the campus, he wonders what his friends will do at the party, dancing with one another, having fun conversations with one another, being with one another. It would've been relieving, relaxing, fun, and a nice break from all the fighting.
As Meditat thinks about his friends at the party, he feels a pained smile, feeling happy for them while knowing he wouldn't be with them while they enjoyed themselves.
He wonders how Erica was, no longer spending nights with him, left in her dorm alone. She has friends, and Meditat hopes that she can use them to avoid the sense of loneliness. What would she think if she knew what her boyfriend was doing? All Meditat could do about it was coming back alive.
In the end, that's all he could do, stay alive. He couldn't avoid this life. It was his job. It was his burden. It was his nightmare. It was his pain.
He wore shackles that he had locked on himself, he was his own slave, working through tortore for an unknown end.
But while he was his own slave, he was also his own master. He was in control of himself, he was acting on his own free will. He was free to live the life he wanted, he was free to do what he wanted, no matter how insane it sounded.
It was his hobby. It was his passion. It was his dream. It was his joy.
Meditat flies over the campus gates, and he heads back to the city, returning back to the home he would protect with his life.
Returning home as who he is: Meditat.