I Hate Systems

"Kyak!" Zaira shrieked as she got up from the bed, sweaty all over as she felt her heart thumping vigorously in response. She patted herself, rubbing her eyes at the bright sunlight cast on her face from the window beside the bed.

Yawn!

She turned to her right, staring at the face of Mystique that was still asleep. Sporting a gentle smile on her face, she brushed aside a couple of hair locks aside and got out of bed, heading to the restroom to freshen up.

She opened the door and sauntered in, opening the tap to see the water stream past. She scooped some of it with her hands and washed her face with it, wiping herself up to stare at her appearance in the mirror.

The reflection displayed a woman in her late twenties, one that was six months pregnant, staring at her with a poker face, with a droplet of water cascading over the mirror from the location where her left eye was reflected.

The water cascaded slowly before coming to a stop, not having enough quantity to be pulled down by gravity anymore. Zaira patted her bulging belly, chuckling as she picked up the brush, her hand inching towards the tap when suddenly, she noticed the droplet of water on the mirror begin to move upwards, retracing its motion.

ZZZZZZZZ!

Suddenly, the entire world seemed to have been stuck in stasis as it lost its ambiance, split into blue and red that outlined everything. Zaira was alarmed as she stared at the mirror, suddenly noticing the figure of Mystique standing at the entrance to the restroom.

There was a strange smile on him as he gently hugged her from behind, causing her face to redden due to embarrassment as he inched his handsome face closer and whispered in her ears, "It was fun while it lasted. I hope you visit me once again."

"I'll definitely rekindle your passion."

…

"Argh!" Zaira screamed in horror, noticing that she was back in the void, at the exact spot she arrived at after being transmigrated by Truck-Kun. Currently, her body was dissipating, on the verge of regressing back to the battlefield.

And standing before her was Mystique, his face a blur, one that strangely revealed a smile that seemed as if his lower jaw was parted from the upper jaw, with the partition circling his head entirely.

It was an eerie situation as she glared at Mystique, "You dare mess with me?"

"I'll target your worlds next!" She roared.

"Feel free to do so." In response, Mystique let out a bow of invitation, "I will be happy if you do invade mine."

"My worlds are getting kind of hungry, you see. We do need some external entertainment." He spoke before vanishing from the spot, "I'll be waiting for your return…"

"Dear!"

"Screw you!" Zaira glared in anger upon noticing her face reddening in response to his words, cursing nonstop until her body vanished from the universe.

…

"Will it work?" Compass Carburettor asked, gasping in exhaustion as he slumped on the truck's seat, "It took my everything to create that truck."

"Same here." Hazen spoke in support, "I had to use every ounce of my power to fool Zaira's senses for a moment and make her think that truck was real and not notice your attack."

"It was hard for me too." Truck-Kun said, letting out a breath of relief, "It wasn't easy for me to face an opponent of her level. But fret not, I've sent her to Mystique. Even if she doesn't fight him, she's bound to be affected."

"If Mystique is so strong, why doesn't he take action against the Systems?" Compass Carburettor asked, "Is he like Immortal, too arrogant to take action?"

"No, Mystique is different from us. He can take action whenever he wishes to do so." Truck-Kun said, "But the thing is, unlike the rest of us Genre Representatives, Mystique isn't a single collective consciousness."

"He's not a single collective consciousness?" Hazen was alarmed at the thought, "Wouldn't that collapse the very foundation that represents a Genre Representative?"

"Not for him at least." Truck-Kun shook his head, turning the steering wheel to evade the pursuit of an apocalyptic monster as he spoke, "The nature and character of every Genre Representative constantly changes according to the development of their worlds. But, the majority of their worlds follow the same format, so the greater part of their nature and character is fixed."

"But in the case of Mystique, there's no commonality in his worlds. Each of his worlds is unique and follows its own customs, laws, nature, etc. And without this commonality, the various bizarre powers are always fighting each other in Mystique." Truck-Kun sighed, "And whenever a power system wins, Mystique changes accordingly. Therefore, even if Mystique were to promise you something yesterday, you better not count on it, for today's Mystique would be something else entirely."

"His powers ensure that his nature and character change constantly." Truck-Kun said, "And the majority of these natures are allied to none. To date, among the hundreds of Mystique's natures, only two are an ally to the Genre Representatives. It is these two natures that are prominent from time to time consistently, so we can still count on him a little, but not for long."

"How long does a nature of his last?" Compass Carburettor asked.

"Usually around a minute or two. The highest a nature of his lasted for was a week. But that was during Zaira's birth. It never happened following that." Truck-Kun continued with a sigh, "So, we cannot hope for any support from Mystique."

"What about the other Genre Representatives? Shouldn't there be dozens?" Compass Carburettor asked next, hoping for some mode to survive this battle.

"They are doing their own thing. Some, like Conjurer, actively support the Systems while others, like Martial, are too scared to go against them. You can only count on the big Genre Representatives to do anything."

'Shit!' Compass Carburettor grunted in response. But upon seeing that Zaira had yet to return, he stared at the fight between the Regression System and Slayer, urging Truck-Kun upon noticing more and more Systems ganging upon Arnark, "We need to help Immortal."

"Keuk!" Immortal wheezed in response, clutching his empty chest that had been pierced through. There was exhaustion evident in his expression as he was gradually falling deeper and deeper into Apocalypse's power.

Surrounding him were titanic monsters—each represented by a Grade 2 System. They had wounded him severely as he now lay on the ground, at the last stretch of his strength, facing a powerful attack from the Apocalypse System. But, just as he wished to retaliate, his legs lost strength as his knees buckled, causing him to collapse.