Area-1

Colton Dynasty

Colton Dynasty I snicker at the last part, just before the messages disappear, but not before screen-capturing and sending it to my brother and cousin. Colton, who is working only a few station away from me, lifts his head from his work and sends me a disapproving head shake.

“Very funny,” he tries to sound serious, but I know that he is seconds away from joining me laughing out loud.

I shrug my shoulders. “What? Oh, come on. I’m sixteen. I’m expected to be rebellious.”

A text from Dad appears on my head screen and I move my eyes to it, displaying a brief, ‘On second thought, don’t come. There’s a sudden meeting.’

“Is he messing with us?” Colton asks clicking his tongue, clearly getting the same text as I did.

“It’s probably just one of those I-don’t-have-time-for-this-but-I-wanna-play-the-strict-parent-part moments,” I assure him.

“And you should probably find a way to get out of that writer’s block of yours instead of committing a digital vandalism,” he lectures me.

“Too bad I don’t have a switch. Or will I?” Planting a microchip to enhance one’s control over the brain is not something so out of the ordinary these days.

“Don’t be insane. What’s wrong with the UX analysis?”

“You know, the same as usual. Thirty percent wants A, thirty percent wants B, and the rest wants C. I found a balance in between, but then complications arise. Right now I am running out of options on crossing that bridge.”

“Well, maybe you should drop it all together and—”

“—restart with a different outcome? Been there, done that. Times 5. I swear if I go through this thing again….” I trail off in fume. I take deep breathes, rearrange the files on my computer screen, before changing the subject, “You know what, I should just drop this and do whatever the heck I want. Besides, your birthday is coming up, and I want to build something I’ve been thinking of for you.” I pull out a different folder and lay out the blueprint.

“Really? What is it?” Colton tries to peek at my computer screen, but I close it fast.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise now, would we? And unlike me, you do enjoy the suspense.”

Colton drops his tools and comes behind me. He leans closer in an attempt to see what I am up to. “Oh, come on. Not even a peak?”

“Considering that you’ll also be helping in making it, I don’t see why not. But until then, you just have to live with it.”

“A clue, then?”

“It’s big.”

“How big?”

“Three stories high.”

“I need something more.”

“You said a clue. That was two already.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll know anyway.”

“Not until the second stage,” I say, before punching in the list of materials to order. Shipment usually arrives in twenty minutes. “Aye, clean up my table, please.” The whole thing is just so filled with a pile a mess I managed to produced during my sulking moment.

Aye, a small, sentient robot designed based on a flying cuttlefish, was one of my earlier creations. Since then, he has had some modifications here and there, and is one of my most trusted small assistants.

“Aye, aye!” It replies enthusiastically, popping from behind one of the pillars and floats through air as if it is swimming in the ocean.

His tentacles are expandable, allowing him to multitask with no trouble. In a few seconds, the table is back to how it was before the whole mess.

“Thanks, Aye.”

Dad has strict rules about keeping pets in the house, despite how many times Colton sneaked some in (PS: He is the favorite). During that time, I was still a kid full of basic impulses, and I always find a way to get what I want. When there is a will, there is a way, I’d say. So I decided to built some. In the long run, I find it more practical as they are easier to control and do not die on you. I also program them to be more independent than normal pets. They can charge/feed themselves, have enough discipline yet cute enough at the same time to leave me to “Awe” at times. A smaller part of me (which is always paranoid in the inside) made me complete the build with some slender steel weapons, programs for self-fixing, and echolocation scanners.

I decide to sing some songs while I wait for the shipment to arrival. During my time working, I usually multitask with some singing on the side. From modern to classic, I have mastered it all. I am so well adequate that I even discovered that I can cover Light Mezzo to Spinto Soprano singing styles. Colton catches on this little hobby of mine, though he is not as skilled or well-committed as the level I am at.

“I can’t wait until it’s your birthday. See how you’ll like the suspense.” Colton, that sore loser. He’s still drilling me for some answer.

“I already know what I want from you,” I reply confidently.

“Oh, yeah? What is that.”

“Colton,” I address him seriously and he straightens himself in return, engine forgotten. “I want you to be the one who produces the family heir.”

He blinks at me. Once, twice. And then, “What? Why? Are you okay?”

He is assuming that there’s something wrong with my health. “I’m fine. I just find the whole ordeal bothersome.”

“Well, I am aware that pregnancy is a tiresome progress, but we have plenty of other options as well—”

“It’s not just that, but the whole courting, relationship drama thingy down to how one should raise a child. I have zero interest in it. I’ve contemplated this for some time, and I’ve decided to pull myself entirely out of this. But seeing that you are more than qualified, I would rather you do it. For yourself, but partly for me. You can consider me simply tagging along,” I shrug my shoulders elegantly with an encouraging smile.

After a while, he asks, “Did you practice those lines?”

“I’ve been thinking about how to say this for some time, yes.”

“How long have you thought about this?”

I look up. “A while.” The look he sends me says it all, demanding more details. “Around the time I saw some of the upperclassmen dates.” It was back during school.

He begins walking back and forth. He does it when he is thinking deeply. “And if I didn’t ask? When were you planning to tell me?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem that important, so probably not anytime soon. But I’m not one to let the opportunity pass. Besides, why are you so upset about this anyway? It’s not like it’s going to be that hard on your part.” Colton is the lady’s man. He has like 10 exs, as far as I can tell. The ones that I don’t know of? I’m afraid to estimate.

What with the brilliant blue eyes that he inherited from our mom and that light skin tone from our dad. We both share the same hair color: brown, but that is as far as we get. I have mom’s olive skin and body posture, as well as dad’s brown eyes. Colton is lean, tall and muscular. I am short and more in the curvier shape with almost zero percent of muscle. I can thank that to all of those anti-gravity gloves and shoes that pampers my muscles every chance it gets from doing any sort of heavy lifting.

“I know that you don’t date, but don’t you think this is going too far? Won’t you at least try to establish a relationship before deciding if it’s meant for you or not?” He’s trying to win an argument he’s going to lose.

“Colt, I’ve seen how it works my whole life. And I know that some people just love the drama, but I’m not cut out for that. Besides, I’m bad with people. Really, really bad. Remember year seven?” A boy tried to take my papers and I stabbed a pair of scissors right between his fingers. He cried for the rest of the class.

“You came on to strangers way too intensely until you learned Acting,” Colton says, recalling the event. He sat next to me, front-row seat for the view. “And what would you do if I didn’t ask? Were you planning to text me? ‘Hey, Bro, I’m not going to have kids, so please have some in my place.’ Oh My Creator! I’m right, ain’t I?” He exclaims accusingly when he sees the look on my face.

“I still don’t get it. Why are you so worked up about this? I mean, I know that you’re still fooling around, but someday you’re going to meet that girl who’s going to take your heart away and you can make babies with. Far, far from now. Aw!” I scream when he hits me. “As abrupt as it may seem, research has shown that people with similar persona such as yours generally ends up in this pattern. Just throwing it out there, lil’ bro.”

“I’m sure you’re analyzing the persona wrong.” He sends me a smug smile.

“Oh, yeah? Are you suggesting that you’re keeping secrets from me?” Smiling back, I fold my arms under my chest out of habit. His gaze follows my movement, and I catch him just in time when his Adam’s apple bobs.

Before I can react to anything, a simple ‘beep’ alarm goes out, signaling the arrival of the my orders. Colton clears his throat before helping me with opening and assembling his gift. We continue to work until the end of the day and reach stage two. By this stage, the skeleton has been built in overall. He then discovers what I am actually giving him.

“A robot?” He arches his eyebrow at me skeptically. He used to play with it…. when he was five.

“I’d like to call it a Knightframe.” I show him the blueprint in the hologram. “Not just because of the proportion, but also because it protects what’s in the inside and outside. It’s the perfect combat machine when it’s necessary. That way, I figure, if there is ever an emergency and I am somehow not there to protect you, you can allow yourself to fully depend on it as if it were me.”

“Oh, Sis.” I can see his eyes begin to water as he pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the forehead. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but you’re irreplaceable.”

“I know.” I hug him back. “Just think of it as peace for my mind.”

We wrap out today’s workload before Colton has to leave for his date.

KnightframeRobotic military vehicle that resembles humanoid shape that regularly stands four to five feet tall. Knightframe is divided into two different types; one that is piloted directly from the inside, and another type that is remote controlled from a certain distance.

Each Knightframe is specifically assigned to one user, however its access can be transferred to other individuals upon owner’s permission.

Although there is no limit to how many passengers can be carried inside this vehicle, thanks to the dimensional room technology that was founded a few decades ago, it is advised to not carry more than ten people to maximize oxygen distribution throughout the inner operating system. Passengers are also advised to keep a good distance from the pilot during driving, or stay in a separate room for further safety.

Aside from functioning as a mode of transportation, the Knightframe also functions as protection from physical danger.