The Failure: Chapter 1: Meeting


They called me a failure.

My hair had not changed color completely after the operation.

I was not the only one; there were other failures as well.

Why did we fail, when so many others succeeded?

The Organization kept close watch on all of us, failure or not.

They were being careful; this was the first time anything like this had ever been done after all.

To think, we are forced to take on the flesh and blood of our enemy in order to defeat them.

I could still feel it, a second heartbeat; a heartbeat that was not human, it felt strange

having a heart that beat a split second after your own, but it was something I would have to get used to.

Even we failures had a purpose.

They pitted us against each other, to test our strength, it was obvious all of us were much stronger then before but some were much stronger then others.

The “successes” easily defeated the “failures” every failure except one.

Myself.

I had defeated all comers, I was better then everyone they had put me up against so far.

The “successes” looked at me with hate, they all believed that they should have been victorious.

That they should have been able to defeat a mere “failure.”

I was standing their, patiently awaiting the next person they would send against me, the next person to whom I would prove that I was no mere “failure.”


My opponent enter the ring, his long white hair swaying, his silver eyes focusing upon mine.

I could tell, he would not underestimate me like the others had, that much was certain.

He was handsome, at least by most standards, although I am certain many would consider him “feminine.”

He held himself like a noble, a former knight perhaps?

We stood their a few moments, analyzing each other, searching for weakness.

I found none.

He smiled.

“Begin” said a voice from outside the Arena.

I was a blur, I still found it surprising how much faster I was then before.

Remembering back on it now, I was so slow, so weak, so human.

I shot a fist forward, wishing to test my opponents strength, some of my previous fights had ended with this first blow.

He caught it easily, and I found myself flying back wards, the wind knocked out from my lungs.

How?! I did not even see him move!

I rolled midair, landing on my feet.

A split-second had passed.

He was still smiling, 20 feet away.

I charged again, this time coming in low.

I saw it this time, a kick, a mere blur, even to my silver eyes.

I managed to block it, but the force still drove me back 5 feet.

This time he did not wait for me to recover.

“Fast!” was the only thought that registered in my mind.

His entire body was a blur now, he rained blow after blow upon my quickly deteriorating defense.

I needed to do something, fast.

I barely dodged one blow, grabbed his arm, and shoulder rammed him.

That smile disappeared for a split second, pain replacing it it, but the smile reinserted itself quickly.

My stomach was already in pain from the first kick; I think it was a kick anyway, and my arms were screaming at me from blocking his attacks, but none of that prepared me for what happened next.

He grabbed my shoulders as we were falling, and before I could react, lifted his knee straight into my chest.

A flash of pain, and then darkness.

I regained consciousness a few moments later; I was on the floor.

I had lost; a failure once more.

“Hey” an unfamiliar voice spoke.

I looked up, it was him.

“That was a good fight; you are the first person so far to catch me off guard like that.”

He said with a different smile, one of kindness, on his face.

I looked at him for a moment, my mind trying to register the praise he had given me.

“My name is Isley, Isley from Alfonse, what is your name?” he said offering me his hand.

I stared at his hand for a moment.

I decided to accept it.

“I am Zeru, from nowhere in particular, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Isley of Alfonse.”

That was how we met, the so-called-failure, and the man who would one day be the strongest of the Organization’s male warriors.

-----------------------------------

Two shadowy figures stood nearby, in the observational part of the Arena.

"Impressive, both of them."

"Yes, very much so."

"Their names?"

"The winner is Isley, he appears to be one of our more successful ones, if not the most successful one."

"Interesting, and the other?"

"Zeru, he was originally a write-off, we thought he would perform poorly at first, but it appears he is worthy to continue to the next phase."

"Good, I am most interested to see how that one will turn out"

"It is rare for you to take an interest in one of our test subjects, Rubel"

"Is it really a surprise that I would root for an underdog Ermita?." Rubel responded with a wry grin.

"Hmm, I suppose not, very well, I will have you watch his progress closely."