MISA: MACRO INTELLIGENT SACRED ASSASSIN
CHAPTER ONE – THE THING POWER CREATES
Life sounded like a myth.
Power sounded like fiction.
No one truly knows what tomorrow holds, yet everyone pretends destiny is written in permanent ink. Power cannot be restrained when it is absent, and when it finally arrives, it never comes alone.
It comes with consequences.
My name is MISA.
And my existence was a problem before I ever made a choice.
The Beginning of the End
I was sixteen years old when the world decided I was more useful as a weapon than as a human being.
They didn't call it conscription. They called it selection.
They didn't call it surgery. They called it ascension.
The Special Force Initiative promised protection, purpose, evolution. What they delivered was transformation—bone into alloy, nerves into fiber, thoughts into executable commands. I became a cyborg capable of shifting into a combat entity known as Macro Intelligent Sacred Assassin.
MISA was not a name.
It was a designation.
We were numbered, not counted.
Produced, not raised.
And whatever humanity I had left was considered a defect they would correct later.
A Body Without Feeling
They told me emotions interfered with efficiency.
So they burned them out.
Desire remained—not as intimacy, not as connection, but as routine. Mechanical. Empty. I moved through people the way bullets move through air. Contact without presence. Pleasure without meaning.
I broke hearts without knowing what a heart truly was.
Women followed me like gravity followed mass, and I never understood why. Every encounter left me more hollow, more distant, like something vital was being drained with each touch.
I didn't know then that fifty women, drawn by forces older than physics, had reached into the void itself and trapped my soul there.
Each broken heart fed the emptiness.
Each night turned me into something colder.
Something ancient.
Something merciless.
The Mission
The day everything fractured began like every other operation.
I opened my eyes to sterile white light and internal diagnostics scrolling across my vision.
STATUS: OPERATIONAL.
MEMORY INTEGRITY: STABLE.
EMOTION SUPPRESSION: ACTIVE.
The General entered the chamber without ceremony. His face was carved from authority and exhaustion.
"We have a mission," he said.
A hologram ignited between us—a naked girl, unconscious, bound.
"She's been kidnapped," the General continued. "By the Prime Minister."
The room erupted. Soldiers armed themselves and rushed out, driven by instinct and outrage.
I stayed.
Something was wrong.
I zoomed into the image, enhancing detail beyond human perception. The Prime Minister's posture. His dilation. His breathing.
Arousal.
And the girl—
I had seen her before.
Either a memory suppressed… or something far worse.
Arrival
I activated my jet boosters and tore through the city at supersonic speed. Walls shattered like paper. Reality bent to accommodate my momentum.
I breached the building in seconds.
Inside, the Prime Minister was already violating her—mouth on her chest, lost in obsession. The girl's eyes met mine.
She smiled.
And offered herself to me.
I moved without thought.
No hesitation. No emotion.
But when I entered her, there was nothing.
No warmth.
No sound.
No resistance.
Only silence—and a faint laugh that did not belong to her.
Then I felt the pull.
The Black Hole
Reality folded inward.
A miniature black hole formed beneath us, dragging space, matter, and thought into itself. I pushed my boosters to maximum. My jet shoes screamed as I tried to escape.
It wasn't enough.
I deployed electromagnetic nanites from my internal 3D printer and hurled them into the singularity. Static surged. Space screamed. I raised my force field and released helium into the event horizon.
The pull intensified.
It wasn't pulling my body anymore.
It was pulling my mind.
Memories unraveled—my past, my ambitions, my imagination—ripped away and consumed. Everything I had ever been dissolved like data in acid.
Then—
I was expelled.
Aftermath
The Prime Minister lay on the floor, dried and empty, his body intact but his mind erased. He stared at nothing, unable to speak, unable to understand language itself.
The girl was gone.
I stood alone, incomplete.
As a cyborg, my memories were backed up in the cloud. Emergency recovery protocols activated and began restoring data—but something was missing.
Everything before my transformation was corrupted.
I remembered what I was.
But not who I had been.
For the first time since becoming MISA—
I felt fear.
And somewhere beyond my perception, something watched me and smiled.
END OF CHAPTER One