The Games that Gods Play Author: Ristul Prologue How to achieve the perfect killer? Simple. Take a pool of children, minimum 100, or use a larger initial population for better results. Put them through the most severe brainwashing and training imaginable. Weed out the weak at every opportunity. Make them compete against one another. Kill the losers. Put them through all sorts of trials to weed out love and other such silly sentiments. By the end of it all, have only one child left standing. Thatfs your perfect killer, right there. -Doctor Mengele Gross The man observed the torture of the last guardian, savoring the screams and cries of agony from the man as his interrogators and torturers extracted the last bits of information out of him. gSo, what do we have?h William Lestrade asked. His voice was doubly inflected, as though it was two people speaking. That wasnft far from the truth; the demon Rytais and Lestrade had merged to form one being. He was tall and lean. Every one of his movements was economical, confident. His handsome face and blond hair had made many women swoon for him over the years. But what the media had never picked up on was his true nature, that of a demon in human guise. His chief of torture answered first. gMy lord, we have almost everything we need to commence the recovery of the Untrilen, including its location. But the exact nature of the defensive traps was not known to these guardians. All they know is that those measures are extremely dangerous, even to beings such as yourself, and that the only outcome for anybody who gets past all the wards is death.h Rytais waved away that concern. gThat is no problem. I have plenty of pawns to squander.h gItfs not so simple. The wards werenft just to keep out intruders; they also served to determine the worthiness of the person seeking Untrilen. According to the guardians, Untrilen will only recognize the blood of the one who had passed through the wards.h Rytais lifted an eyebrow. gThatfs it?h gYes sir.h gThe solution itself is simple, but therefs loose ends to take care of first.h gSir?h Rytais smiled, and the room was flooded with darkness. Suddenly there wasnft just screams from the people on the stretch racks and the electric chairs. Even the torturers, the interrogators themselves, were screaming. He walked out of the torture chambers several minutes later, to be greeted by his head of arms. gMy lord.h The man greeted him. gClean up the chambers. I also want Doctor Gross to see me, now.h Moments later, Rytais was in his interview room, sitting opposite a thin, balding man. Gross fiddled with the papers he had brought. The details of a training program that would create the perfect soldiers. No sane nation would use them; they were too horrifying to contemplate. gSo, Doctor Gross, I have reviewed your plan, and I am pleased to say that I would like to implement it, despite any problems I might have with the authorities. But I have one caveat.h gSir?h gI want only one at the end. Not five, as you had recommended.h Gross didnft skip a beat. gEasily done, sir. But may I ask why?h gFive is difficult to control. One is easy.h Rytais contained an internal shudder. He was already taking a huge risk by even having a single heir. Five? If they were true to their blood, they would be too dangerous to control. No, better to have that one heir, who would die for him getting through the wards of the Untrilen. And then? The universe would be his. Or rather, a seat on the high council. Rytais smiled as he beheld the future. One last thing remained to do. Lots and lots of forced sex. He looked forward to the pain and humiliation he was going to inflict on those women. It would be immensely enjoyable. Twelve years later g91!h The instructor ordered. gYes, sir!h The boy, only eleven years old, shouted out. He stepped forward and loaded his pistol. His face was a mask of indifference. Blank, emotionless. He had seen two others of his siblings die that day on the obstacle/combat course. gSet, go!h The boy dashed forward. He rolled under a set of swinging blades that would have cut him open with a single wrong move. He came up with his pistol barking. gTargets one to three down.h The instructor reported to the range master. The boy continued running, towards a mockup of a house. He hit the wall beside the door, panting hard. Then he kicked the door hard, then moved in, his pistol held out and in front of him as he looked up down, and around for enemies. Gunfire barked. There were automated weapons inside the house, acting on infrared sensors to fire. There were only two ways to inactivate them. One was through the main controls in the observation tower. The second was by shooting a 9 square centimeter metal plate attached to each weapon. The buy designated 91 weaved past the bullets, replying with his own pistol. One by one the weapons fell silent. gWeapons one to five deactivated.h The range master paused for a moment, then said, gReactivate weapons two and four.h More gunfire barked, and again they fell silent. gHe was prepared for that one.h The instructor remarked with admiration. gFiring accuracy so far is 95 percent.h gIncredible.h The range master shook his head. Grossf training program was brutally inhuman, but the soldiers that he could turn outc They were down to only eight children left from the original two hundred, and any one of them could ace a formal spec ops course for adult soldiers, provided that stamina and strength requirements were adjusted. After this course, there was only one last set of trials. Formal one on one battle, until there is only one left. They switched their attentions to several cameras, showing the progress of the boy through the house. gEntering room 6.h There was an extra clip of ammunition for the boy as he entered the room. He tucked it into a pocket. More automated weapons popped out of their hiding spots. The boy again took them down quickly and efficiently. Then they saw him hit the release catch for his ammunition clip, sliding the empty magazine into a pocket while snapping in the fresh one. gOne shot one kill there. Jesus Christ.h The instructor shook his head in disbelief. The range master grunted in reply. gLet our paymaster hear those two words you said at the end, and youfll be dead by nightfall, so clamp it down!h The boy moved on, cool and collected as he fought through the automated defenses. At the end of the obstacle/combat course, his accuracy rating was 90%.