To be honest, I’m not sure how my little account has become so well-known.
Sky Force was released six years ago by a Japanese game company called ‘Rhoha.’ Its computer-generated imagery (CGI) is breathtaking. Sky Force features stunning and figurative artworks, an infinite fictional world, and intricate control panels. This game, as everyone can see, is the hen that can lay tons of golden eggs, but Rhoha rejects. They require the techniques rather than expanding their business to make more money from those players.
The only way you can get a higher rank is by playing better than the others. Money is nonsense, so we have dozens of poor gamers playing the Sky Force. And if you can create a record of winning at least ten thousand matches consecutively, you will receive a special prize, which—according to the company—can change your life forever.
But I wasn’t interested in playing video games or even believed in their dreamlike advertisements.
The-twelve-year-old me was concerned about his wealthy friend instead. It was more interesting. Let’s think about this topic. What would you do if you were me, discovering that your beggar-like friend was a rich kid? The billionaire one? I bet you would not differ from me then.
Okay, though he is just a side character, but it’s better calling my friend by his name, right? His name is Long, and you know how to pronounce that as simply as the way you eat a cake, too. But here is a notice, when you are considering this word as an adjective, it’s actually a noun in Vietnamese, meaning ‘Dragon’. In some ways, that name fits him like a miracle.
According to billionaire love books, I don’t know if this guy had any substitute girlfriend or hidden fiancee, but Long actually lives in his damn fancy mansion, without his parents, owning an extremely tremendous fortune from his childbirth. The adults surrounding him were all his workers, led by an old butler, like what people usually write about rich kids’ lives. Long’s life was boring since he didn’t know what to do with his wealth, to the point where he didn’t care about his money, but just wanted a friend.
And how coincidental it was, my life was damn boring since I didn’t know what to do with my poverty too. I was really interested in money and I also needed a friend, especially a rich one!
Then I wanted to be this prosperous individual’s friend.
That wealthy kid asked me to create an account on ‘Sky Force’, telling me that the nonprofit game would give us equality.
I sincerely appreciate his thoughts.
However, I became a legend of this game after years, while that rich kid turned into a legendary feeder: losing for about one thousand matches, consecutively, and getting notorious all over the world.
Poor you, my rich child.
Oh, my computer starts. I put the glass aside, holding the obsolete computer mouse, preparing for a battle.
But I forget one thing, that I am damn well known in this community. And as a result, at the moment my account turns from ‘offline’ to ‘online’ after nearly a year, my computer just simply… explodes.
Invitations, messages, challenges and tons of things that I don’t know possess my screen. I can’t look at them even for a moment, because the freezing speed of the screen is faster. It flashes twice before turning off and restarting itself because of the overload. This stressful process repeats three times in a row, and when I am afraid that my fame will end this computer’s life, the old device shows me how strong it is: turning back to the normal state and deleting all the things that filled the screen.
I probably recognize who sent all this mess to me. Since ‘Leo Pavilion’ turned out to be the king here, it’s likely that those messages are from my dear opponents all over the world who wanted to win my title. Even some of them showed me their extreme attitude: scolding me to make me accept the dare.
And like other champions, I was furious, and I decided to… neglect them all.
That’s it.
In this age, where all the people log in to the internet every day—yelling at someone and then getting cursed back—who will care about those little words? Just think about something greater, like some idiot.
I click on the category ‘Streamers’ on the dashboard, the only section allowing you to earn money on Sky Force, then search for my opponent. My billionaire friend earlier told me that this dunderhead is quite popular here, so I think it’s easy to find the ‘target’.
“Guys, welcome back to Leo Killer’s channel.” A sudden, loud voice scares me through the speaker. For heaven’s sake, my weak heart did nearly jump out of my chest after that tone. I look back, seeing a face-hidden guy shouting at his audiences like hell with the incredibly familiar tone, “Today I will show you some key skills in conquering the eighth map, the Uranus.”
Leo… Killer? Me? What has ‘Leo Pavilion’ done to cause that animosity? I turned off the computer for at least six months consecutively, didn’t I?
Then I click back to unlock my ‘room’, the personal place where I put all my fighting jets, medals, and weapons in. About the correct number, because of my mother’s slippers, I have played little games, so I just have about one hundred fighting jets, almost three thousand weapons, and innumerable amounts of components to create a spaceship—which I collected from all over this virtual universe.
About two years ago, Sky Force released a function allowing their players to make their own spaceships. Then, according to the power, the producers arranged those ships in level, from One to Seven.
I also put all those parts together to make up a battleship too, naming it ‘Hurricane’, hoping it would get marked a number. But, how painful it is, my cute spaceship gained nothing for no reason.
Using Hurricane is just my love toward my ‘virtual son’, but after activating the jet, I realize it might not be the choice. Because right at the moment the jet is ready, something explodes, and my dunderhead friend shouts.
“Boom!”
“What the hell is firing at me?” My poor target shouts out in shock. He is eating a snack while streaming. I know it, I am watching his show now. So when his jet got damaged in the wing and his controlling screen turned red, he was shocked and coughed like hell. The food may get stuck inside his throat.
You might not believe this, but… I don’t mean to shoot him now, I swear.
The Hurricane is too fast!!!
I remember that its speed was much slower! I set my ‘room’ on the virtual Earth, so why does it just take me three seconds to arrive at Uranus now? Updated version…
What the hell? Why don’t I know Rhoha releases the updated version???
Right after the accident, I control the Hurricane to turn back, quietly. I don’t know why my ‘son’ is damn powerful, but it’s still unacceptable to defeat someone with a missile while your opponent is just holding a knife. It’s not the thing that a human should do. I’d better get back to the ‘room’, putting the missile back and picking another knife!
However, not everyone needs an equal battle. When I shoot the dunderhead unintentionally, a message appears on the screen when Mr. Dunderhead is fixing the damage, like a can of oil poured into the fierce fire.
“DAMN! LEO PAVILION!!! HE IS LEO PAVILION!!!” Yeah, capital letters.
My heart races when the capital letters from someone keep showing up on the streaming screen. Oh well, though those words show me a fierce admiration, I find it uncomfortable seeing this writing style…
“I KNOW THIS SPACESHIP! THE UNMARKED HURRICANE!”
“I SWEAR ON MY HONOR! GUYS, COME AND ATTACK HIM BEFORE HE RUNS AWAY AGAIN!”
But it’s the crucial part there.
When I don’t want to fight with him anymore, I see my poor dunderhead friend standing in my way by letting his spaceship stop in front of mine. And with all his cute innocence and respectful bravery, he types a sentence on my screen by the voice.
“I challenge you to a duel, legend.”
I won’t tell you I’m over the moon now.
“Not so good, dude.” Looking at the newly discovered data from Hurricane, I respond with a splendid smile, “All-in is better.”
Hello, guys.Are you coming here to see the interesting battle between me and that idiot streamer?It’s kind of you to do so, but… no, we don’t fight.Oh? You ask why?Ha ha, it’s just a little mistake, a really tiny one.“Slam!”Not even closing the plastic box containing the electrical fuse with all my strength can cool down my fury now. It also has my finger stuck for a second, thrusting my nerves, and I just can’t hold back all my bad words like any other normal person. Of course, the one in the fire of anger.“I’m gonna hang that guy! Holy shit! Why the hell does he shut off my circuit? Today is damn hot and you come to switch off the others’ power?”And… yeah, you know the reason. An irritating event called artificial power cut, with an informal way to explain that phrase: there was a damn miserable guy coming to my family’s fuse box, turning off the power at noon, right at the moment I was about to take a serious fight. The capitalized ‘serious’.Like eating a delicious hamburg
If people hear about the aliens, they mostly show their concerns towards this mysterious and interesting issue. They often ask for more information, even fake news, for fun. Sadly, after my brother tortured me with his scary questions, my reaction was alone two words with a dumbfounded face showing how helpless I am.“Sorry, what?”I hear a motorbike from the door at the same time I reply to him. It’s familiar to the point I definitely know who is coming without looking through the glass window. My mother.Even though it’s earlier than I thought, my mother may have done her work at my aunt’s home and is now parking her motorbike in the front yard. Then I put aside what I heard from Long to go out of the room. Aliens? What are they? Are they edible? Surely they can’t be used as food, but my mother will bring back to me some bánh ú (beng u) for me.Is there anything more important than my favorite dish my aunt has promised to send me before? No, of course. It’s a pity that I nearly forg
Besides the identity of Leo Pavilion, I have a job as the one owning a part of this luxurious restaurant. Yeah, you don’t misunderstand. It’s me, who has just graduated from high school.To be honest, the birth of this restaurant derives from lots of factors: Long’s own dramatic parents, his mental wound, and a crazy moment of mine. Not the intentional idea to startup at a young age, certainly.The guy who is grabbing every piece of abalone over there is Long, one hundred per cent. He is ugly; I have to accept that reality, with naturally brown skin, black curly hair, a round face, and congenital myopia which forces him to wear glasses all the time. Those are the reasons he got rejected by his own parents.I don’t know it clearly, because it was Long’s sad memory, anyway. I just heard his butler saying that his mother, a young wealthy heir (yes, childish too), slept with her boyfriend and gave birth to Long a year later, when she was just sixteen. She rejected the little one who was h
I have never known that it doesn’t take much time for me to establish three levels of meaning of the word ‘aliens’.If ‘aliens’ in my little brother’s words just made me feel helpless, then that word turned into something like a tool to provoke my anger, when Long the brat interrupted my precious spare time with that damn reason. And now, at the moment I hear those letters from Khanh’s mouth, the third level of ‘aliens’ just encourages me to get back home! Immediately!!!It’s the third time I heard this word from three different people. You might not know this, but for the Vietnamese, anything that happened at least three times continuously is worth thinking about. How the f*ck can they scare me this way? It chills me to the bone, okay?Alien attack? No, it’s just the product of the imagination. Exactly.Though I’m trying to warm up my freezing blood this way, my ears are still uncontrollable, and those freaky whispers are still audible to me. Things get greater when that topic is dam
Like solving a mathematical problem, let’s analyze with simple eyes.If the culprit is not an alien, there must be someone throwing a huge rock, or something similar to a rock, into Nam’s room. Though a big rock can break the glass window easily, it’s not that easy to move the tool away. It’s in the victim’s room, right? But no one mentioned something like a rock when they talked about Nam as if there wasn’t any rock.All of us know the sound when someone throws a rock through the window. ‘Shatter’, and that sound is loud for sure. But the sign taking the neighbors to Nam’s house is the scream of his parents, not that sound. So, if the tool is not a big rock, then what breaks the window, causing no sounds and leaving a big hole in the road?If we suppose the culprit is something nonhuman, we have another scary scene.The time when that thing attacked Nam was half past thirteen. I didn’t check the clock, but according to Long’s irritating call at fourteen o’clock, I can guess that Nam
On behalf of an innocent man who falls, or used to fall, in love with this beautiful girl, I expect her to say something like ‘take care’. Who you love the first time will not be the one who you will marry, I know it. Khanh doesn’t know my emotions, and I’m not rich enough to say ‘I love you’ or something. My future is full of plans, and this love should end, or at least till the day I can lead a business empire. It’s damn hurt here, in my little heart, so I need something to be a beautiful memory…But what she tells me just drives me insane.“Can you ride Thuy back home with you?” Khanh might realize how resentful my look is. She knows that I’m weak, but it doesn’t stop her from smiling and keeping convincing me for unbelievable reasons. “Thuy is just a girl, and the evening is not safe for her. She is injured as well.”“She is literally light, too.”Thuy?She is a gangster, lady! The girl who is infamous for fighting, till the level where our homeroom teacher complained with her gra
Though our neighborhood is just a suburb lying not so far away from the center of HCMC, we got an area with about one hundred houses abandoned twenty years ago. People said it used to be the place where illegal residents lived without permission. When the authorities moved them away to build a factory here, a monetary problem arose, and they had to stop their plan.From then on, this uninhibited area turned into a point where gangsters and criminals gathered.They can be anyone. Please remember the fact that we’re living not so far from one of the biggest cities in Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh City. Kidnappers, human traffickers, or even drug dealers can appear in this abandoned area. The only unexplainable thing here is why they can be here.As mentioned, we got a police station near this area. The police check out randomly, so even if this place is on the way leading to our neighborhood, the chance to come across those dangerous criminals is tiny.Here, congratulations, we spin to the box ‘
So, it turns out that aliens are real? Not the synonym of that bad word?It is the final thing appearing in my mind before my body falls to the ground, sliding backward while the broken pieces are splashing on, and I end up slamming the brick wall behind.“Ouch…”I swear on my honor, it’s the most painful moment that I’ve ever gone through. I can barely breathe. My back is so hurtful that it’s no longer sensible. The worst part might be my left arm, which definitely got a crack from that accident and is now causing me terrible numbness, spreading all over my body and worsening my bad health.As the pain gets worse and worse, I crawl up with the limbs, which can’t be still for even a moment. They’re all trembling uncontrollably. There is nothing fine remaining in my body, and for me—a person who can’t even be able to suffer minor pain—it is the true nightmare. Now crawling up is also a difficult task. I got a broken arm, hurting legs, and a blurred vision, which just allows me to see t
Then I sob while waiting for the alien's action. But it just sits there in silence, and it's quite illogical.The most perfect lie is a combination between right things and wrong ones. My muscles are actually useless after years of being weak, and… yeah, I can't live my life because I am too weak to do anything. Most of my words are spoken from the bottom of my heart. My actions are high quality as I have learnt it from a famous actress.I have to be the director, the script writer, and the actor at the same time. Ain't I talented? Why doesn't the alien trust me?Luckily, the alien comes closer to me, slightly patting on my shoulders. I look up with my tearful eyes, and those compassionate eyes look back at me.“It was a pity to hear that from you. She stole your power and now you have to follow her as a subordinate, begging for her protection…” Those words are fine for me, but the last ones force me to look up at the alien, “Women should never have powers.”Excuse me?‘Women should ne
If you have ever failed in imagining how aliens would look like when they were in war, now I can tell you some with my damn experience.It is just… chaotic, in the way that you will easily recognize that they're in war. Only in war.This hallway is full of aliens, where I can see all the possible combinations of colors, shapes, and sizes on the humanlike bodies, which are the first thing that an Earthling like me has ever seen, smelled, or heard of.The atmosphere here is definitely not good for my health. The scent of grass, mixed with dust, roses, burning flesh, and something metallic like blood. Sometimes you can smell a bad odor as if there is a dead body. It is absolutely terrifying, but I see nothing but a dense crowd in the hallway.The headache tortures me. I want to vomit. But I have nothing in the stomach, and there is just no way to escape from this circumstance.Sighing in silence, I walk ahead, trying to pass through this crowded hallway as if I am one of them… Or maybe n
After that humanlike creature leaves, I look around the room and don't know what to do next.If describing my emotions now as something figurative, then I suggest calling it a mixture of an avocado, some pepper, and a cup of coffee. An inedible mixture, which is as weird as my emotions are.My situation may be the most hellish one ever in humankind's history. After being chased by drones, fighting against an alien battleship, I'm probably caged for the first time ever in my life.Yes, caged. No matter how prosperous my imagination is, I have never expected that one day I will be caught, or caged—if you prefer the second word.I have been a good citizen for eighteen years of my life. A really good one, I can swear on my honor that even if my three years old little brother was a criminal, I would never be. My body is just simply unqualified to be a criminal, so if I ain't the victim, then there's no way that I will be the culprit.Thinking again, the only serious crime that I have commit
PART TWO: Not Home, No Home“Wake up already?”A morning light ray shines in my eyes at the same time I hear this voice. I'm confused for a moment, my sleepy brain hasn't started working yet. I just follow my instinct, turning my head at the place where the voice echoes. Sunlight goes across my skin, leaving some warmth, which makes me feel a little… unfamiliar?Huh?Why is it unfamiliar?“Why are you standing right there? Go and bring those trash bags to the outside. The garbage truck will be here later… Can't you hear me?” The voice appears in my ears again, bringing some anger as I don't pay attention to the content.I look up. My eyes open wide. And, though I don't know why, my mouth has opened and said what it wants.“Mom? Why are you here?”My mother is holding a handkerchief. It seems that she is going to clean the glass window which is covered with fog droplets. She looks back at me with a complicated expression, then she throws that handkerchief at me. That thin object doesn't
Right after making a fragile bond between an unknown danger and a victim, that ‘danger’ picks me back to the control center because I can't walk.The lighting system couldn't escape the fate of being destroyed in the fight. We can't see light from outer space as well—maybe we have gone away from that cluster. The dim green light from the control panel is the only thing we can see in the dark, and it's obviously not enough.I slowly wave my hand on the floor to make sure that I'm not going to sit down on sharp metal pieces, then lean against the cold wall while Thuy comes closer to the control panel. Green light reflects her curious face when she stares at all the virtual keyboard, radar system, and the three-dimensional simulation—an expression which I can barely see on her cold face.“Looks great, right?” I ask her with a low voice but full of obvious pride. All the spaceships I designed in Sky Force follow the highest standards of aesthetics, so how could they be unimpressive?“Yeah
Actually I don't know what I'm thinking about, when I'm still lying on the metal floor and looking up at the electric sparks like a crazy guy.My head is aching, again.It feels like you met some fuckin' scary guys and they smashed you, at your head, with a hard brick. It was painful at first, but when they started changing their weapon into a block of metal, you…No.Now I just want to slam my head into something, or anything possible, to end this unbearable pain. I don't know if this pain comes from the weird substance which I got injected, but it is absolutely worse than the usual ones.For a moment my nervous system has stopped working. But just a second later, it starts, once again, thinking of some negative things like what I had to suffer in the past. They bloom in my chaotic mind as a call from hell, or an ugly hand waving me from the dark.The headache gets worse. Now it feels like someone is stirring my brain, and I can do nothing but bite the sleeve so as not to accidentall
Xeros 5M is never a good choice for face-to-face battles, especially for an unequal fight between a small spaceship and a huge battleship.Though its damage is perfect for long-range targets with a good motion detector, the cannon will break into pieces if we fire closer than the minimum distance. The weapon itself will become a disposable product—and it's a critical, deadly waste in fighting, which is usually prohibited (in Sky Force, at least).Because of that reason, not many players know that it was the muzzle that restricted Xeros' capacity, and it's just enough for an impressive headshot.First I move around the enemy battleship to check if it has anything related to my memories. Although it sounds ridiculous and crazy, I can't hold back thinking that this damn world might have some relation to Sky Force and… my spaceship design.We got a ship with all the functions of my Hurricane, now there is a battleship using something that looks exactly like the camouflage cover I have use
Wars follow humankind on their way to evolution.Before Christ, we had lots of wars in Egypt, Babylon, and the Hittite Empire, which were reflected in several famous comics which I don’t even read.The Roman Empire was in the spotlight for being involved in so many wars until the fall of the East Roman Empire in 1453 A.D.The Middle Ages was known for the Crusade.And the modern era shows us World War I and World War II, which everyone has already known after years in school.Differences and similarities are the main reasons that lead to wars. You’re afraid of something weird, ugly, unknown, and different from you, and then your instinct tells you to destroy that object to prevent any harm. That’s how war happens.No one wants war, or at least we ordinary people don’t. I am too.I don’t believe what the AI system’s voice said at first. I stand up again and look for a camera to check it out, thinking that it's just an error. I have a habit of taking photos of my opponents from behind,
At first, I didn’t recognize what it was.The first scene which catches my eye is a big room with a metal floor, and three huge glass-like cracked windows showing nothing outside. It is pure black, just like any normal scene coming from a science fiction movie. I am not attracted to this, because everything that draws my attention is the way to unlock the control panel. It’s the crucial part here. Nothing else.I’m trying to guess what the alien engineers thought when they created this spaceship. It’s time-consuming and patient-required. I have to make lots of ways, as much as possible, while the right arm—which is not broken—keeps on touching every single inch of the floating plate, to find something useful, shown clearly through lots of blood lines that my fingers left on the way.Where can the control panel be hidden?Aliens are not us. I have to forget all the usual methods of inference to think weirdly, as an alien does. Can this plate be the control panel? If not, why is it here