Birth of a Cynic

As Andres Romero Domerguex sat across the frosted valley from a looming mountain fortress, he took a moment to appreciate the position he was in. One thousand, nine hundred seventy other agents could have been chosen ahead of him but he was the one chosen. Some might have tried to insinuate that his success was, largely in part, due to the fact that his mother ran the institution. However, his mother did not want her only son to join the cause, fearing she might lose the last family she had left.

Andres couldn’t help but smile as the forceful blizzard and shadow of night kept him hidden from unwanted eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was normal for non agents to feel at peace when hidden from view and frankly, he couldn't care less. Working for G.A.M.E., the covert international law enforcement agency, was going to allow him to use tech straight out of video games to take down evil doers and save the world. If that wasn’t every gamer’s dream, he didn’t know what was.

Five gruelling years of physical, mental and virtual training had prepared him for this mission. Ironically, said mission centred around locating and rescuing the person who pushed him through the aforementioned training. He pulled out a grappling hook that was a functional replica of Pathfinder’s, a playable character from the battle royal known as Apex Legends. He felt confident that saving his mentor would prove the agency didn’t make a mistake. Whether he’d be proving it to everyone else or just himself was a question he’d rather not think too hard about at that moment. Lest he fail without ever finding the answer.

To keep himself from dwelling on the subject, he decided he’d waited long enough. The midnight snow filled clouds had thickened considerably and a visible frost now clouded anyone’s view of over twenty feet. The wind would cover up any noise he’d make while setting up his gear, though he’d barely make a sound. He procured a titanium alloy pole from his white duffle bag and secured it into the ground before firing the grapple gun. Amazingly, the rope magnetically attached to the pole. The spear end pierced the fortress, allowing Andres to zipline across the icy river hundreds of feet below.

Lifeline is still a better support character.

He thought to himself as he secured his footing on a stretch of stone that protruded outwards just enough for Andres to shimmy towards an entry point. As he shimmied towards a window, he readied his laser glass cutter but he’d soon realise that there was no need. Surprisingly, the window he was now standing under was left open.

Maybe henchmen are as dumb in real life as they are in games.

That thought caused a smile to cross his face before he looked up into the entry point. He put away the cutter and took out a mechanical fly to survey the situation he was about to enter. Once again, he was left with a sense of anxiousness as he confirmed that there was not a single guard in the corridor.

The slight anxiousness would only strengthen as he delved deeper into the fortress. The briefing he received stated that the complex was teeming with personnel and it would be a challenge to stay covert. Yet, Andres had already been here for more than fifteen minutes without seeing a single soul. Either the intel was wrong, which was highly unlikely, or this was a trap. Maybe it would’ve been best had Andres retreated and called this in. However, he was not about to let his chance to prove himself go by the wayside.

Still, each step further into the mountainous complex only served to raise his guard even more. As he passed through apparent common areas, he noted how chairs were overturned and files upon files had been strewn about. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume beat him to the rescue attempt. Unfortunately, the truth would not be so kind.

After an hour of exploring the base, the first sounds of other life floated to Andres’ ears. The click clacking of a keyboard and the faint muttering of someone...familiar. Following the sound, Andres stepped inside what he immediately identified as the control room and he was greeted by a scene that perplexed him. There was his mentor, Jack Drake, typing away at a keyboard in front of a huge monitor. Though instead of downloading intel and planning an escape route as Andres imagined, Drake was uploading information about G.A.M.E. to a backup server.

“Drake…..what are you doing?”

Andres’s voice was confident and steady, though a trained ear could spot the uncertainty. Drake turned around with a smile.

“I’m ordering Pizza.”

Drake said with a sarcastic tone that still carried the smoothness Andres had grown accustomed to. The man who stood before him, however, was not the man Andres thought he knew.

“I’m ending this futile attempt at stopping the world from destroying itself. It’s gone on for too long and it’s time for it all to end. This world doesn’t deserve to be saved.”

Even saying such radical words, Drake's voice was charming. That didn’t stop Andres from being shocked at what he had just heard.The young agent could not imagine what kind of hell his mentor had been put through to be broken like this.

“What ...? Drake, I don’t know what they did to you but there’s still time to undo what you’ve done. Just stop the upload then we’ll go to that server and destroy it. Afterwards, I’m thinking wings and some Overwatch Four?”

Andres kept his hands by his side, perfectly still, in an attempt to show Drake that he was not reaching for his weapon. He still believed that he could break through whatever conditioning had been done to the senior agent. He couldn’t think otherwise, his chest tightening at even the slightest thought of said implication. This was the man that had taught Andres everything he knew. He thought they had achieved a bond, especially with all the hours they spent gaming after training. Before this moment, there were even sparks of a romantic infatuation. Now, however, there was nothing but doubt and uncertainty. Andres wasn’t giving up on Drake. He couldn’t. Drake, on the other hand, sighed as he turned back around.

“You naive noob. You don’t understand that there’s no saving the world. In fact, you’ve just proved my point. I’ve just committed treason and betrayed the entire agency. Yet, you’re gonna help me cover it all up so we can go eat wings and play some stupid game? No matter how many anarchists and terrorists we put away, it’s the system that’s broken. They’ll escape or someone else will replace them. When does it end?”

“It doesn’t end and you know this.”

Andres countered with frustration growing in his voice.

“This is a full time job with the only retirement plan being death. You don’t remember what you told me? You said that the true evil is in the mindset. Believing that there’s no hope for humanity but we represent that hope.”

“Well, I was wrong! We don’t represent hope. We represent the insanity of trying to correct human nature. We choose to separate ourselves into groups just to feel some vague sense of superiority. Even when both sides claim to be aiming for the same goal, still the answer is to war with each other. We are a perpetual dumpster fire and there’s no putting us out.”

The words being carried by Drake’s voice shook Andres to his core. He couldn’t understand what had happened to the man he once knew. He started to question if he ever knew him at all. To have such a reversal in one’s outlook of life would imply that they endured a great pain. Yet as far as Andres could see, his mentor had no physical wounds. Try as he might, he could not stop himself from speaking his curiosity aloud.

"How long have you felt this way? Did you mean anything you ever told me?”

Drake tapped a final button and then turned to face his former student again. The expression on his face was one that Andres had never seen before. Usually, Drake was the picture of poise and composure. Charming yet casual. However, now he looked exhausted and defeated. Drake neglected to answer the question.

"You know...I was hoping it was you they sent. I’ve already finished the upload to the backup server. There’s some group calling themselves Lifeflame willing to pay me for the info and then I can disappear and I don't have to care about anyone or anything anymore. You’ll understand when you’re older that caring hurts too much. They’re the ones that set me up with this bogus fortress. Needed time away from watchful eyes to get all I could and get out.”

Andres stared at Drake for a moment though it felt like an eternity. In that time, he searched for any semblance of the man he once knew. Unsurprisingly, he found none. With that confirmation, he internally readied himself. However, being subtle around someone who taught him everything he knew was not an easy task as he would soon learn.

Crack!

A swift smack from a replica staff of the one used by Jade from Mortal Kombat sent Andres back before he could reach his holstered weapon. Not only was he bleeding from a busted lip, his goggles were cracked. The goggles Drake himself had given him. It was the first gadget he was allowed to use in field training and now he was staring at pieces of its glass on the ground. Whatever hope of reaching out to the old Drake evaporated in that moment.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

Andres slid down his goggles as he stood, barley obstructing the tears struggling to break free. Once his eyes were completely covered, an armoured Suit akin to Metroid’s Samus formed around him. A fierce fight would ensue. Drake was very skilled with a staff as where Andres was better with hand to hand.

In the heat of the battle, Andres jumped up and attempted to drop a downward punch on Drake. However, Drake caught him flush with the staff, the force of the strike snapping it in two. Andres fell to the ground with a thud as Drake loomed over him. The young agent could already feel he was internally bruising. His torso felt as if someone had lit it on fire.

“It’s time for your final lesson, Noob. Too bad you won’t be alive to use it.”

Drake extended his arm and MegaMan’s blaster formed around it.

“In this business, never trust anyone. It’s why you’re on the ground and I’m up here.”

Andres was bruised and beaten. His power suit was cracked in multiple places and the blaster enhancement was malfunctioning. Still, Andres couldn’t give up. He had accepted that his mentor was already dead. Something had happened to Jack Drake and LifeFlame knew the answer. This person standing in front of him was just a shell of the man he idolised. So while Drake gave his mini monologue, Andres slowly reached into his pocket and procured a miniature hilt.

"You see, Andres, I taught you everything you know. The Director and Romero may have given you life but I made you who you are today. I know the move you’re about to make before you do. I know right now you’re rerouting all your suit’s power to the blaster. Too bad, I already have my blaster drawn.”

Andres smirked up at Drake.

“So did you always monologue or was that part of whatever LifeFlame did to you?”

“Huh?”

“Either way. I can’t believe I didn’t realise how arrogant you are. You sound like a Hanzo main.”

Drake roared and fired multiple blasts. Luckily, Andres was quick enough to dodge them, only being clipped by one. With a grunt of his own, the hilt extended into the iconic form of the MasterSword from Zelda before it was driven deep into Drake’s back. With an agonising scream, the corrupted agent dropped to his knees.

“You think this changes anything….? There will be others…. who see what I see. This world……. Is beyond salvation. You’ll realise that one day. Until then, you’re just a geek who thinks he can save the world with video games.”

Behind the cracked visor of the Samus Suit, Andres’ tears had dried. His expression was steeled as he looked down at the man he owed all of his field training to. He truly glorified Jack Drake to the point of idolisation. He would never make that mistake again. His voice did not betray him as it stood steady and confident.

“Maybe so. But I’m not dead.”

Before Drake could utter another word, a single slice ended the mission. Drake’s body fell with a thud that seemed deafening. The sword fell to the ground with a clang equally as loud, soon followed by Andres. The victor sat there staring at the body of someone he trusted with his life. This wasn’t what this life was supposed to be. He was promised adventures and cool tech. Not betrayal and regret.

He deactivated his power suit, leaving the cracked goggles on his head. He walked back to the window which served as his entry point, contemplating his entire life along the way. When he was there, he activated his homing beacon. The agency was not one to dally but he was pretty deep in the mountains. So he sat down on the ledge and threw his legs over the edge. There, he stared out into the frosty night’s darkness, wondering what came next for him. He would keep his broken goggles with him for the rest of his days. It served as a reminder of the price of trust. Andres may have started this mission as a wide eyed hopeful kid. But now he knew the truth. There was no place in this world for hope or love or friendship. At least not for him. All there was for him was death and justice. So that’s what he focused on.