14:37, March 15, 2287

  7 Osu District, between Kinbu Senior High Technical School and K?mfo Anokye Fusion Plant, Accra, Emerald Directorate territory

  Another day of skipping school. Another day spent searching for life's purposes. Jabari Adomako walked through the heart of Accra, a metropolis that stood as a testament to African ingenuity and power. Towering spires of gold and emerald glass reached toward the heavens, their curved, dome-topped structures catching the sun's rays and casting them back in dazzling patterns across the cityscape.

  The African sun hung heavy in the sapphire sky as Jabari slipped into his own refuge, a pair of large steel gray wireless headphones clamping over his ears, banishing the world with the click of a button. Pop music flooded his senses, a pulsating bass line syncing with the erratic pattern of his heart.

  Below the elevated walkways, hover cars with sleek, aerodynamic bodies glided silently along designated lanes, their golden and green chassis reflecting the city's dominant palette. Gyro-bikes zipped between larger vehicles, their riders leaning into turns with purpose and direction Jabari couldn't help but envy.

  To hear the teachers at Kinbu Senior High say it, Accra had ‘risen from the ashes of the Digital Age to become one of humanity's crowning achievements’, powering the African dreams and ambitions that had carried the Directorate to Mars and beyond.

  Yet as Jabari wandered beneath these architectural marvels, the grandeur above only seemed to magnify the hollow space within him. What good was living in one of humanity's greatest achievements if he couldn't find his own purpose within it?

  A simple white tee adorned his muscular frame. His trousers, loose-fitting and breathable, fit well with the pair of scuffed trainers that saw countless journeys across the city's advanced infrastructure. He wandered, the beats in his ears drowning out the sounds of existence but not its questions — the weight of life's meaning pressing upon him as surely as the afternoon heat.

  Then, as he rounded the corner, a motley crew of figures huddled around a shimmering vat of contraband Helionite, its faint green glow casting an otherworldly pallor on their determined faces.

  "Bring this to our usual meetup spot down Jamestown..." The gang's leader stood, a skinny woman with a bald head and spikes all over the jacket she wore, her voice a serrated whisper. "...and the buyers will crawl from their holes like vermin."

  "Hey!" With a surge of resolve, Jabari strode forward, yanking the headphones from his head. "Are you people trying to smuggle Helionite? Shouldn’t that be sent to the nearest recycle station?"

  Laughter erupted from the gang, coarse and jagged as broken glass.

  The bald woman turned, her eyes narrowing into slits as she appraised him. "You would speak to Adwoa that way, boy?" she sneered, stepping closer.

  "It may be nuclear waste, but Helionite is not private property," Jabari held his ground, though his heart raced a wild rhythm against his ribs. "I'm calling the DSC. You should —" he threatened, reaching for something in his pocket.

  Before he could act, a fist slammed into his jaw, jarring his senses. Hands clawed at him, tearing at his clothes, dragging him down. The world spun, a frenzied kaleidoscope of kicks and punches raining down upon him as he tried to shield himself.

  "The D-S fucking C!" someone spat as Jabari's headphones were snatched away, a boot heel grinding them into the concrete. "Too busy on Mars to give a shit ‘bout you and me. Fuck them, and fuck you!"

  Onlookers scattered like startled birds, their faces blurring past, expressions mingling fear and indifference. Pinned on by the oppressive minions of Adwoa, Jabari's breaths came in ragged gasps as the concrete that cold and unyielding against his back.

  The scent of sweat mingled with the stench of the city's underbelly as the gang leader leaned down, her face a grotesque canvas of cruelty. Her skin bore the texture of overripe fruit, pocked and sallow, while a jagged scar ran like a dry riverbed across her cheek. Her mouth twisted in a lecherous grin, revealing yellowed teeth.

  "Hmm. Now that I’ve looked at you, pretty boy," she crooned, her voice a serrated whisper that scratched at Jabari's ears. "You got spirit — and looks to match." Her hand, calloused and intrusive, slithered toward the waistband of his pants, breaching the barrier of cloth to grasp at his manhood crudely.

  Jabari's muscles tensed, revolt surging through him as vehement as bile. He recoiled from her touch, but the weight of defeat held him immobilized.

  "S-s-stop!" he managed, the word strangled. But Adwoa cackled, relishing his discomfort as her fingers persisted in their invasion.

  "Look at you, all shy," she taunted, her voice a corrosive caress. "Let's see if I can make your little brother stand at attention."

  Jabari's eyes darted, seeking an escape, but found none—only the circle of sneering faces around him.

  "Thought you could talk to boss Adwoa like that, huh?" barked one of the gang members, a sneer curling his lip. "You’re just some useless high school student."

  Adwoa's laughter grated through the air. "Oh, he'll be more than that when I'm done with him," she declared, her gaze fixed on Jabari like a predator. "I'll take him back. Make him shoot his Aether like a sprinkler, watch him spurt his innocence away!"

  The gang erupted into vile guffaws, their amusement echoing through the street. One of them clapped his hands together mockingly. "Hear that, schoolboy? You're gonna get schooled the fun way!"

  Just then, high-pitched growls reverberated through the streets of Accra, the sound twisting into a cacophony of snarls and screeches. The Helionite's luminescent slurry, shoddily concealed by the gang, throbbed with a sinister green pulse.

  Monsters descended like a plague upon the wide boulevards. Civilians scattered, their screams slicing the air as the creatures lunged with serrated claws. Mutated hounds, skeletal aberrations with eyes like coal pits, skittered across the cobblestones, their jaws snapping shut on anything that moved.

  Above, a dark brown mutated octopus with three eyes loomed, its tentacles trailing in the sky like wraiths' fingers.

  "Ekwensu! Radi-Mons in Accra?" Adwoa's voice, now shrill with fear, cut through the pandemonium. "Get the Helionite!"

  Gangsters scrambled, clutching at the glowing canisters. But a Radi-Mon pounced, its mouth agape, revealing an endless chasm of darkness speckled with teeth. It seized a gangster, his cries gurgling to silence as flesh was rent from bone in a spray of crimson life. Jabari flinched, his muscles tensing, every fiber urging him to flee.

  Adwoa, her face a mask of unsightly desperation, swung a makeshift weapon — a thermal knife, glinting dully under the sun — in futility.

  The hounds' razor-sharp claws slashed through fabric and flesh with ease, tearing through Adwoa's defensive spikes as if they were tissue paper, their claws slicing through fabric and skin with equal ease, scraping against the pavement, their jaws snapping shut on flesh.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "No! — please — " she spat, her bravado dissolving into a whimper. But there was no reprieve. Jabari watched, aghast, as the monsters shredded her into crimson fragments, her words dissipating with her last choked breath.

  Jabari surged to his feet, a primal instinct to survive overtaking his battered form. He stumbled, his foot catching on a remnant of what had been human moments ago. Down he went, scrambling on hands and knees, trying to evade the encroaching horror.

  Just then, the air crackled with energy as he looked to the sky. "They’ve come. The DSC has come! Someone’s called them!"

  The Directorate Space Corps descended upon the scene like a storm, their arrival heralded by the whine and thump of their boots hitting the ground, a group of Ologun marines clad in dark green fusion-powered exosuits that seemed to drink in the sunlight. At their forefront stood a particularly stalwart man, his exosuit sporting silver edges and symbols along the shoulder plates, indicating a squad leader status, his figure casting an imposing but reassuring shadow.

  Jabari barely had time to catch his breath when the marines raised their angular, olive black Plasma Rifles, the weapons humming. The Radi-Mons turned their vile attention towards these new challengers. But the Ologuns stood their ground. Bolts of superheated plasma tore through the air, each verdant shot a beacon of destruction that found its mark with unerring accuracy.

  Jabari could not help but feel a shiver of awe at the display as the marines’ exosuit whirred as they marched forward. It was as if the heralds of Shango himself had descended from the pantheon to smite the unworthy.

  "Get up, kid. A true Maridian never gives up," a voice commanded, breaking through the chaos. The squad leader reached down, his gauntleted hand gripping Jabari's arm with a firmness that brooked no argument.

  The strength in that gesture lifted Jabari from the ground as though he weighed nothing, setting him back on his feet. "T-thank you, sir! I’m Jabari!"

  "Keita. Sulayman Keita," the man introduced himself, his eyes scanning the vicinity even as he spoke, missing nothing. Before any further words could pass between them, a cacophonous roar shattered the brief lull. Sulayman's head snapped towards the source of the commotion, his body coiled and ready to spring into action once more.

  "Jabari. Get to safety when you can. My men and I will handle these Bone Fiends," Sulayman ordered, not unkindly, before turning away. His stride was purposeful.

  "Okay! I will, sir. I will…" Left standing amidst the debris, Jabari watched Sulayman's retreating back, feeling the weight of his own insignificance in the wake of such decisive strength. He was anchored there by a mix of fear and fascination, his mind racing with the possibilities that life among these warriors could hold.

  Jabari's eyes darted from one chaotic scene to another, the cacophony of thudding exosuits and monstrous shrieks ringing in his ears as the dust and smoke stung his nostrils. The Ologun marines moved like phantoms through the haze, their plasma rifles spitting green death at the encroaching Bone Fiends.

  Suddenly, an explosion nearby sent shockwaves through the ground, and a building groaned as it surrendered to gravity. With a crash that swallowed screams, it collapsed, and from its dust emerged a Bone Fiend, its skeletal form loping towards its prey.

  "Shango’s schlong!" An Ologun marine lay pinned beneath rubble, his dark green exosuit compromised, a hand reaching out in desperate futility. The Bone Fiend's eyeless skull turned towards the fallen warrior, sensing vulnerability, its jaws parting in anticipation of the kill.

  "Hold on!" Jabari’s shyness evaporated in the crucible of battle. Instinct overtook hesitation as he lunged forward, his feet sure on the trembling earth. Each stride carried him closer to the marine, his hands outstretched. His fingers grazed the edges of broken concrete and twisted steel, the remnants of someone's home now a crushing tomb.

  Summoning his strength, Jabari's arms bulged with the effort as he heaved at the debris. A grunt escaped his lips, a primal sound that matched the intensity of his exertion.

  The weight shifted, just enough, just barely. The marine, seizing the chance gifted by Jabari's raw power, dragged himself free with a pained gasp.

  "I’ve got you!" Jabari shouted, the word torn from his throat as the Bone Fiend bore down upon them.

  "Anansi bless you, civilian!" The marine, bloodied but unbowed, rolled aside, his fingers finding the grip of his fallen Plasma Rifle. Time seemed to stretch, each second bloated with the potential of life or death. The marine's aim was true, and with a volley of viridescent light, the Bone Fiend's charge ended abruptly, its form disintegrating into a pile of green slush under the weapon's searing kiss.

  Jabari fell back and watched as the soldier he'd aided scrambled to his feet, the grim set of his jaw visible even through the visor. Together, they stood on the precipice of chaos, brothers in arms forged in the heat of shared peril.

  Suddenly, the sky darkened as a massive, mutated octopus descended from above, its monstrous form blotting out the sun. The creature's bulbous head, easily the size of a small building, pulsated with an otherworldly glow. Its skin was a sickly copper-brown, slick with a viscous, iridescent fluid that seemed to absorb and reflect light in equal measure.

  Eight colossal tentacles, each as thick as ancient baobab trees, unfurled from its grotesque body. The appendages were adorned with pulsating bioluminescent patches that flickered in hypnotic, coordinated patterns. Rows of serrated suckers lined the underside of each tentacle, dripping with a caustic fluid that sizzled as it hit the ground below.

  The creature's "face" was a nightmare made flesh. Where one would expect to find eyes, there were instead three burning orbs of molten orange. Its beak, visible between writhing tentacles, was a black void ringed with razor-sharp hooks.

  As the abomination hovered, defying gravity with its impossible bulk, its tentacles began to sway in an eerie, synchronized dance. In response to this eldritch signal, a pack of Bone Fiends emerged from the shadows, their skeletal forms circling Jabari and the Ologun with predatory intent. The air grew thick with the stench of ozone and decay as the monsters closed in, guided by the psionic will of their tentacled master.

  Just then, the earth trembled with the approaching thunder of massive, mechanized footsteps. From behind a veil of dust and debris emerged a colossal, beetle-like mech, its emerald carapace gleaming in the golden sunlight. The mech towered over them both, its standing height similar to a bus, its six articulated legs moving with surprising grace for such an enormous machine.

  "Our Scarab is here!" The Ologun turned to Jabari, his voice tinged with pride. "That Kraken and its fiends won’t live to see tomorrow."

  The Scarab's rounded, beetle-like shell was adorned with intricate aureate patterns. Its "head" swiveled, targeting systems locking onto the swarming Bone Fiends. Suddenly, twin barrels extended from the mech's face, humming with building energy. With a deafening roar, it unleashed a barrage of superheated projectiles. Each shot found its mark with unerring precision, reducing Bone Fiends to bubbling puddles of biomass.

  "By Anansi!" Jabari watched in awe as the Scarab moved, its massive frame belying its agility. The mech pivoted, sweeping its deadly verdant fire across the battlefield while its two frontal limbs rose, decimating any Radi-Mon coming in melee range.

  As the Kraken, sensing the tide of battle turning, attempted to retreat to the safety of the skies, the Scarab's shell began to shift. Plates of armor slid apart with a series of pneumatic hisses, revealing a massive cannon housed within its back. The weapon, pulsing with barely contained energy, charged, targeting systems locking onto the fleeing Kraken. With a blinding flash and a thunderous boom, a lance of orange energy erupted from the cannon. The beam struck the Kraken with pinpoint accuracy, engulfing the creature in a dazzling explosion of light and power.

  As the brilliance faded and the dust settled, Jabari stood transfixed, his heart pounding. "Wow. You guys get to pilot that thing?"

  "That’s correct, civilian. Also, how do you do," boomed a deep processed voice from inside the Scarab's belly, indicating the presence of a human pilot. The mech stood victorious amidst the wreckage as the last of the Radi-Mons collapsed in a heap.

  Sulayman Keita strode through the smoldering ruins, his exosuit etched with the scars of battle, the gears on its joints hissing.

  "Good job helping Ebo back there," Sulayman's voice rumbled through the acrid smoke. "Are you from Kinbu Senior High? Shouldn't you be in school at this hour?"

  Jabari's pulse throbbed in his temples, but he met Sulayman's piercing brown eyes without faltering. "That life... it's not for me," he confessed. "I-I-I want a purpose, sir. Something real. I want to join the Directorate Space Corps."

  Sulayman's lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. The other Ologuns gathered behind as the squad leader stroked his chin with a gauntleted hand.

  "Boy, life in the DSC is full of hardships. You could die, or worse." Sulayman said, his tone grave. "We’re not just fighting to protect citizens. Our enemies are many. The Terra Alliance. The Imperium of Dragons. Terrorists who smuggle Helionite. And above all, the Radiation-Induced Monsters you’ve seen today. Radi-Mons, we call them."

  Unwavering, Jabari declared, his voice honed by conviction. "I know. But I'd rather be out here making a difference than sitting in a classroom all day. I want to live a life that matters."

  "Then walk with us to Fort Osu," Sulayman said, and the very air seemed to thrum with the weight of destiny. "We’ll ask you a few questions, see if you have what it takes."

  study found that 17.5% of people in Norway were diagnosed with a depressive disorder? Additionally, 17.1% of female college students and 10.8% of male college students had a major depressive episode.

  And it is likely the most well-developed country with one of the highest GDPs per capita in the world.

  So, I wonder if sense of purpose and self worth have more to do with one's happiness than initially assumed? Without them, even living in stability and comfort would be no cure for bad mood.

  But hey, thanks for reading. Did you like this chapter?

  Follow, Comment and Favorite. I happen to be someone who enjoys his freedom of speech, so I'd like to know if there's anything that you want to see more in the future, or anything you think could be better.

  With that, I'll see you in the next chapter.