[—DATA ENTRY 3 – The Legend of The Omega Syndicate—]

[18+ For Graphic Descriptions of Violence/Crime/Graphic Language]

[NOTE FROM THE DESK OF THE DIRECTOR]: Well met, Archivist!~ Yuki and I are currently on other missions for the advancement of Chaos within this Xenos System—///Radio Static/// D̵a̴r̶l̶i̵n̶g̵,̸ ̸y̵o̷u̴ ̵r̴e̸a̵l̵l̶y̸ ̵j̴u̷s̶t̶ ̴m̶e̷a̵n̸ ̶w̷e̵'̷r̸e̸ ̵w̷o̴r̵k̷i̸n̵g̸ ̸o̵n̸ ̶S̴a̴t̷u̸r̵d̷a̸y̷'̶s̴ ̵s̸t̸r̶e̴a̵m̷ ̶d̷o̷n̸'̶t̴ ̴y̴o̷u̵?̶~̴//Static subsides/// (Here The Director coughs and clears his throat, his flush cheeks showing slightly on the distorted monitor in front of me) AHEM, yes my dear. Preparation means we are spreading Chaos. Regardless Archivist, you are freer tonight to report on any myriad aspects of our lore. So please, do enjoy tonight's freedom to its fullest extent. FOR CHAOS AND GOOD TIDINGS! Director out!

(The Director says, as his video feed into our chamber cuts off and the monitor before us returns to the Image of Chaos Gumi, spinning softly)

[SCOPE OF RESEARCH]: As tonight is special for The Archive, the scope of our research shall be a personal favorite story told from the perspective of The Director of his rise to pure Villainy and Chaos in The Omega Syndicate and his eventual downfall and revival as the Archknight we know and love today. [Due to the brevity of this tale, we will likely require multiple arcs/parts to fully discuss this tale, so let The Director know, dear readers.]

As I was pouring over “Imperial Ruling and the Illusions of War Vol XXIII”, within what I had come to call The Grand Library, I began to ponder a question:

“Who are those voices? And what do they want with me?”

This came about because while I say “I” came to call it The Grand Library – to be brutally fucking honest? I hadn't the foggiest who the hell “I” was. Since I was brought here, to this large room covered in ornate marbling and mahogany shelves crammed to the brim with books on weird things like, “The Prince”, “Advanced Trigonometry/Calculus”, and “Battle cruisers and You Vol. I-IV” no one else has showed up. Not my paternal caretaker, not my maternal caretaker, not a guide, and not what “Social Skills for Trained Killers and Spies,” would call “friends and associates”.

To be honest, I didn't know where I originated from. All I knew then, was that one day I did not exist and the next “They” began calmly commanding me to “Learn, learn and do it quickly. We don't have room for failures.” in a soothing but dark tone. “They” accentuated this by flashing images of disfigured faces of children who looked fairly similar to me who had been disfigured with knife slashes and been torn apart, their bodies being ground to paste and synthesized into long strands of DNA; into my head as a whirlwind of gore and unnecessary cruelty. Their screams of fear and confusion mixed with the crushing of bones against an unfeeling mortar and pestle haunts me to this day....

Due in no undue part to this seeping sense of dread, I strove to be the best at whatever “They” were looking for...to selfishly hope that I could avoid those other children's fates. And so it went on...for what I would later hear had been 18 years.

I would hear whispers from “Them” in my sleep and they would discuss in disturbing detail – what they'd done to the “Mistakes” that had failed to please them in the past.

That morning, as I pondered that question aloud..“They” finally responded, being truly within that name as both voices spoke in unison. “We, trial 23 ....are your creator,” they began, clearly enjoying the opportunity to speak to their experiment for the first time in what was apparently 22 previous trials. “and we have seen fit to allow you the opportunity to continue to please our empire.” “Ah...that empire I've been reading so much about, huh?” I said, in a mixture of sarcasm and disdain. Thankfully, for all their purported intelligence “They” either had never learned of sarcasm or were ignoring me and happy just to hear an intelligent response from one of their lab rats. They continued in spite of my implication that I didn't want to hear any more of this dribble...“And in order to move that along, we have seen fit to allow you to be free. Use your life wisely and for the Will of Chaos.” At this, my vision went white and my first taste of true sight, sound and the taste of the world came into view. The smell of blood, the sound of Cryo fluid and bodily fluids swooshing within tubes as my cocoon slid open and I fell to the floor, feeling Omega gravity for the first time. “Greetings, Trial 23. I am Dr. Marianova Alleyce, and this equally woman beside me is your other creater – Dr. Debrinot Speir. Starting today, your name shall be Archknight Project, trial 23. Or, Arch for short.” Dr. Alleyce said, the wrinkles under her eyes flexing as she spoke. She says she and Dr. Speir are the “most beautiful women in the Empire” but if such a thing were true, the standards for beauty are much lower than I remember reading. However, over the last 18 years it was their voices I remembered. It was their evil I heard come out from these hags as I laid in a mental prison...and it was evil I was out to eviscerate from my life. That, was the first time I'd ever used my hands...the hands they'd given me and taught to use as a weapon....As I removed the lives they used to destroy so many Xenos and my....“family” with. I gutted them, watching it all end in front of me. I let Dr. Alleyce survive, barely. She would never use her hands...but she would live. That was the first and last time I used mercy on Omega-3. I had truly become that which the Empire might have truly enjoyed. I was therefore known as....The Cruel Fox Reaper of Omega-3, the Head of The Omega Syndicate. I sought to avenge my fallen family, and to bring peace to and harmony to Xenos throughout the Empire. How did I do it? Well....


[Certain events have been altered by Imperial Law, but thank you dear readers for reading tonight's Report on the Life and Un-life of Mr/Mrs. Mirahiru. Tune in next time!~]

[—Report 03 completed, Terror acquired.—]