The Martial Unity

Leonel barreled down a set of spiraling stairs. With a leap, he cleared the railing, foregoing the last of the steps to land in a living room. Jumping over a couch, he rounded a corner into the kitchen to snatch a bottle of foul green liquid.

"Thanks for the daily dose of cow shit, dad. Really appreciate it."

A middle-aged man looked up from his tablet, pushing his glasses up with a couple fingers. He was lounging behind the large glass doors that opened from the living room into the backyard when his son's usual defamatory statements entered his ears.

"In another rush toward failure?"

"I'll succeed this time!"

Instead of launching himself out the front door, Leonel actually made his way back up the set of spiraled stairs.

"That's what you said the last over hundred times."

Leonel didn't wait for his father's next sarcastic statement. He pushed opened the attic doors and swung himself out of the three-story high triangular windows. His actions looked no different from an attempt at suicide, but his hand just barely caught the ledge, swinging himself upward to latch onto a weakening water drainage pipe.

Like a spry monkey, the plastic lid connector of his bottle hanging from his teeth, he climbed to the roof, landing on the angled tiles with a practiced ease.

[Subject: Leonel Morales]

[Infraction Code 118.67.2 - Unauthorized scaling of a residential building. Under the Parkour and Freerunning Act of 2034, this is classified as a Type 1 Misdemeanor]

[It is advised that subject Leonel Morales immediately cease illegal activity to avoid charges]

Leonel ignored the beeping female voice emitting from his wrist, his eyes having locked onto his next target.

The suburb Leonel and his father lived in was decently well off and could be considered a part of the upper middle class. However, the location of their home could only be described as odd. Or, rather, the entire suburb community was out of expectations.

The community existed on a large flying platform that orbited a main city below like the Moon did the Earth. These so-called Floating Paradises acted as a solution to the housing crisis of 2066, effectively fixing the problem by creating more surface area for housing.

Nowadays, only the obscenely wealthy could live on the surface. Leonel's destination happened to be this lofty surface world. Though, while most who lived on these Floating Paradises could only catch a glimpse from time to time, Leonel traveled down almost everyday.

'… 17 seconds.'

Leonel crouched on his home's roof. His and his father's home happened to be at the very edge of the Floating Paradise. Of course, there were several safety measures taken. But, that wouldn't stop Leonel.

Despite his vantage point, he couldn't see the backyard his father had been sitting in. In fact, his home looked completely empty from the outside due to a privacy setting.

He swung his head back, taking a big swing of his dad's green concoction. In that moment, not only did his tongue seemingly light on fire, but even his lungs burned. One would think he was breathing in a raging fire's smoke instead of drinking a smoothie.

yourself this time, old

suddenly took a leap. At first, it seemed that he wouldn't make it very far. He'd fall three stories and come out with a broken leg if

a sudden gust of wind crashed into his body. If it wasn't for its sturdy straps, the backpack to his

as he

smile playing his features as though he didn't realize that he looked no different from a madman to any

falling without a care in the

seemed that Leonel would be falling hundreds of meters to the surface below, his body tucked and rolled, bursting through a layer

a dull thump, he rolled across the hard ground. It only took a moment to realize that this wasn't in fact the ground at all, but rather the very top of a sky scraper that seemed

score." Leonel grinned,

Under the Sky Island Act of 2071, this is classified as a Type 7

17, has been targeted for capture. It is advised that subject remain where they are to avoid added

a minor. Guardian Velasco Morales has been

Communication failure.

retired Tier 5 government official as a father had its perks. For example, any crimes linked to a retiree of such prestige was directly handled by the Bureau of Intelligence and Protection, or

were forwarded to his father to be vetted by BIP. With his father's

a silver framed bicycle hidden in a corner. He leapt from the building's side, swinging his bike's seat

square footage, almost every building on the surface was interconnected in some way. The skies were filled with glass tunnels, towering structures were

school the

rang out as though there wasn't a several hundred

tube the moment you agree

"My name isn't Lenny!"

know when he arrived and also had no idea where his voice was being projected from either, but he could only

the high rises of the surface city, Leonel sped through the dense metal forest far faster than many thought possible. Eventually, the tall skyscrapers began

three or so meters as a time, hopping his bike from glass tunnel to balcony to light post before eventually landing on the

took his backpack from his back, pulling out a pair of grey slacks, a recently pressed white shirt, and a

mirror the size of a piece of paper again a large garbage disposal bin, he slicked his

"Refresh."

light swept over Leonel's body. In a flash, his accumulating body odor was

slid on his blue blazer. After putting

because he was overly satisfied with his own appearance, though he could be considered to be

bronze, his short hair swept freely in the wind with its dirty

was both lean and well-built. Despite this, he had a kind and inviting disposition.

his smile, they'd think he was crazy. He was more than charming enough, was

more. Realizing he would be running late if he wasted anymore time, he hopped on his bike. But, his pace was much

the congested communities he had passed through

greenery all around, ancient trees vibrantly recovering from the winter months,

academy on Earth, a prestigious place only for the elites of the younger generation — Royal