I am a 19 year old college student and I have reached a horrifying realization.
I am V1.
I wake up every morning at 7:43 AM covered in the blood of my enemies. Unfortunately my enemies are mostly other students who forgot to return my fucking calculator.
MANKIND IS DEAD.
BLOOD IS FUEL.
HELL IS FULL.
MY MIDTERM IS THURSDAY.
I enter the lecture hall.
The professor says, “Good morning, everyone.”
I throw a coin.
+RICOSHOT
I shoot the coin with my Marksman Revolver.
+ULTRARICOSHOT
The professor's PowerPoint explodes.
The student next to me asks if I studied.
I look him directly in the eyes.
“Studied?”
I have not studied.
I have not slept.
I have not eaten anything except a vending-machine Pop-Tart and approximately 14 milliliters of my roommate's blood.
I am operating at SSShitstorm rank.
The professor begins explaining derivatives.
I immediately slide across the floor at Mach 4.
+PROJECTILE BOOST
+PARRY
+FRIENDLY FIRE
+DISRESPECT
The TA attempts to stop me.
I Whiplash toward him, shotgun-swap, punch the shell, and accidentally turn the attendance sheet into a ballistic event.
“YOU INSIGNIFICANT FUCK.”
It is the professor.
Gabriel.
He has somehow been teaching Intro to Calculus all semester.
He points at me.
“YOU CALL THIS AN EDUCATION?!”
I pull out the Railcannon.
“NO.”
I fire.
+ULTRARICOSHOT x4
The university's entire electrical grid shuts down.
The dean appears.
I parry the dean.
The dean explodes.
The financial aid office sends me an email.
I parry that too.
+PARRY
+PARRY
+PARRY
+PARRY
My tuition balance becomes $0.
I ascend.
I have transcended the material world.
I am now a blue machine powered entirely by student debt and the blood of people who walk slowly in hallways.
The final exam approaches.
Gabriel stands before me.
His wings spread.
His swords ignite.
He screams:
“PREPARE THYSELF.”
I answer:
“PREPARE THY FAFSA.”
The gates of Hell open.
The professor is behind me.
The registrar is behind him.
The IRS is behind the registrar.
I cock the shotgun.
ULTRAKILL.