Psycho Bullet Festival 2222 – Bout 01

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Synopsis:
Psycho Bullet Festival 2222 is an intentionally absurd story created for the expressed purpose of making sense of The Saga of Dawn and Dusk series by tying up loose ends, fixing continuity issues, and fulfilling long-standing promises. That, and bringing together a number of characters and concepts for a convoluted crossover epic 9 years in the making. 

200 years after Psycho Bullet Festival: The Odyssey of Abigale Quinlan, the world has matured into a utopian state, where the needs of every human are met and the concept of limited resources is a thing of the past. But that all changed after the fourth suicide of Verde Dusk, God of the VDVerse. With her demise, chaos runs rampant across the VDVerse and a long forgotten prisoner has been freed. Using their newfound power, this prisoner casts this peaceful world into a transdimensional war for the fate of the VDVerse.

Disclaimers: 
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any intellectual properties referenced are property of their respective owners.

This novel was created and written in its entirety by Natalie Neumann, a hobbyist writer who made this work for her personal amusement and satisfaction. None of the content of this work is meant to be disrespectful, insulting, or harmful to any persons or groups.

This novel contains adult material including sexually explicit activities, strong language, extreme violence, mass murder, child murder, suicidal themes, derogatory language, and more. This work is not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.

Note:
This novel is part of The Saga of Dawn and Dusk series created by Natalie Neumann. It is a direct sequel to The Malice of Abigale Quinlan, Psycho Bullet Festival: The Odyssey of Abigale Quinlan, The Saga of Vincent Dawn. Efforts have been made to summarize and describe all relevant events within the text of Psycho Bullet Festival 2222, so there is no prerequisite reading necessary to understand all characters and events in this novel. However, for an optimal experience, Natalie Neumann recommends reading Psycho Bullet Festival: The Odyssey of Abigale Quinlan and The Saga of Vincent Dawn before reading this novel.


Psycho Bullet Festival 2222
Bout 01: Enter The 2-2-2-2

Date: February 22, 2222
Time: 02:22 UTC – 11:22 LT
Coordinates: 41°N 127°E (North Korea, Asia)

My Bicentennial Speech 

By Milky “Doki Doki” Sunshine

2222. A curious year, if only for its number, but for all of us on this Earth, it holds a far greater significance. For it represents the bicentennial of the Awakening of Abigale.

200 years ago, the world was in shambles. Infrastructure was demolished, the human population was less than a billion persons, and if there was a future for humanity, it would be a future rebuilt from the ground up. Just as people started to do so, furnishing settlements and making the most of the ruins left before them, she returned.

After the events of the Cataclysm, Abigale Quinlan fell into a 7-year-long coma. When she awakened and saw the world, she knew she was the only one who could rebuild what was lost. She knew she was the only one who could carry humanity into a prosperous future… and she did. After reclaiming her powers from her offspring, Abigale traveled across the entirety of the planet, soaring through the skies, and stopping whenever she happened across those in need.

Those who survived the Cataclysm were hesitant to accept her help due to her immense power and the belief that she was the true cause of the Cataclysm. Abigale did not argue with these skeptics. Instead, she helped them by recreating what was destroyed and giving them the resources they needed to rebuild society. 

From west to east, from north to south, she pushed humanity into a new era. The Reconstruction Era. Where cities were rebuilt, utilities were restored, global trade was re-established, and after the initial shaky steps, things were looking better than ever, if only due to the new tools and devices Abigale made available to all. The most vital of these were the Real Booters, allowing anyone to turn anything into anything, along with the earliest incarnation of Machi. The machines that helped build the world far faster and far more efficiently than any human could ever imagine, and the predecessors to the friends we all know and cherish to this day.

From The Reconstruction Era came the era we are all fortunate enough to live in. The Prosperous Era. An era where humans have everything they could want, where resources are limitless, and the concept of ‘money’ is a historical antiquity. An era of no war, minimal crime, and global happiness leagues beyond anything seen earlier in human history. And none of this would be possible if not for Abigale Quinlan.

While every day is a grand day to celebrate what we have and what she has provided us with, this year is one where our gratitude should be louder than ever before. None alive today have memories of The Reconstruction Era, let alone the Cataclysm, so it is hard for anyone to truly imagine or understand what it was like before Abigale became humanity’s guardian. We cannot forget the impact she has left on this world, and when she graces our humble community with her presence later this year, I hope you all let her know how much you appreciate her and the world she helped build.


Milky let out a hearty breath as her speech concluded and her vision focused away from the paper clenched between her hands and to the class of 25 before her. She felt as if she had been absolved of a grand burden, but now she had to face this crowd as they glared at her person, seeing her for all she was.

Milky was a child of a mere 8 years of age. A girl with dark curly hair that brushed her shoulders, skin a mid-toned brown, and a dainty physique more befitting a scholar than an athlete. She was dressed in a cream-colored sweater, a three-fourth length navy skirt, gray stockings covering her bony legs, and small violet booties covering her feet.

As Milky foggily looked over this group, worrying that they would voice some displeasure, the class brought their hands together in applause. The noise was loud, concussive, and the sort of thing that would usually scare her. But she knew this was a good noise. She could look at their faces and see how much they enjoyed her essay. She laughed as she took in their reaction, bowing as she murmured thank yous to the class. Before she could even think about returning to her seat, her teacher approached her. She was a woman in her 30s whose face beamed with pride as she bent down to place a hand on Milky’s head, giving her a soft and affectionate pat.

“Milky, that was simply marvelous!” The teacher said, her hands flowing through Milky’s hair.

Milky struggled to comprehend this brash and overwhelming praise. She looked at the class before her with a mouth agape before happening upon the most familiar face in the audience, bringing her back to reality. Milky then shut her mouth and reformed it into a smile, before loudly and proudly thanking the class for such a glowing reception. 

As the cheers subsided, Milky’s teacher placed her hand off Milky’s head and waved the child back to her seat. Milky did so quickly, letting out a satisfied huff as she nestled into her cushioned chair and turned to look at her deskmate and Machi, Yuki. 

While Machi came in all shapes and sizes, most adopted humanoid proportions, and Yuki was no different. Though, while her shape was human, it was clear that she was a machine.

Her eyes were considerably bigger than a human’s and were colored a lively pink. Her body was covered with artificial plates, colored lavender with black accents. Her exterior bore a matte finish that was soft to the touch and housed a comforting cushion beneath its surface layer. Even a newborn child could determine the differences between this artificial skin and that of a human, but it was still comforting to the touch. While the top of her head was covered with an artificial indigo hair that was not made of any individual strands, but rather a singular malleable mass that one could easily brush a hand through and tussle to their liking.

While it was acceptable for Machi, such as Yuki, to go about their lives without clothing, that was not the case here. Yuki dressed prim and proper, looking like a traditional business woman, knee-length skirt and all. 

As both Milky and Yuki situated themselves, they exchanged no words. Through their facial expressions alone, they could tell what each other was thinking. Milky could see the joy and pride in Yuki’s robotic face as she looked down at her. While Yuki could see the relief and joy eking out from Milky’s face, still shedding away flakes of concern and enraptured her during her speech. Both thought about verbalizing these thoughts, but before either could, they were thrust back into reality.

“Alright class,” the teacher said from the front of the room, “now that Milky’s finished, we’re finally done with presentations. The school board will review your submissions over the next few days and we’ll let you know who will present their speech during our celebration at the start of spring. But for now, you’ve all earned yourselves a break. See you all in an hour!”

As the teacher dismissed the class, the 11 other students and their Machis began pouring out through the classroom door. Their complexions and features varied heavily, while the color of their skin drifted across an array of browns. They were persons not of any single readily identifiable race, nor were they ever perceived as such. They were simply people. They were simply kids. Much like the kids, the Machi came in all colors and styles, from a sleek metallic cobalt to things that better resembled the skin of a human, or even a plush. But all had two eyes, two arms, and two legs they walked on. As that was the most practical way for them to accompany and aid their human partners.

“C’mon, Milky. Let’s get some lunch,” Yuki said, lightly tapping Milky’s shoulder.

Milky jolted up in her seat and began carefully placing her notebook, folder, pencil case, and tablet away into her backpack before flinging it over her shoulders. She offered a quiet goodbye to her teacher before walking out the door with Yuki, hand in hand.

The two walked through the school halls, glancing passively at the assorted art and displays created by fellow students before the two reached the school cafeteria. There, myriad inside-voiced conversations mixed and mingled to create a low hum of noise as nearly a hundred students sat down to enjoy their meals.

Milky fastened her pace as she reached the other end of the cafeteria and stood before an unattended Real Booter. A device that could turn anything into anything, but this model fulfilled a far more limited purpose. To create food for the children of this school. Its shape was not dissimilar to that of a microwave oven, but with a screen in place of a keypad, and a soft electronic voice that spoke to Milky, asking her what she wanted.

When poised with this question, her brow furrowed and she brought her hand to her chin, which she rubbed contemplatively before reaching her ‘eureka moment’ and turning to face Yuki.

“It’s super warm today— at least for February— so I thought we could go on a walk through the woods.”

“Heh. That’s a lovely idea, Milky. Just make sure you get something that travels well.”

“No worries, Yuki! I’ve already got the perfect thing in mind!”

“Hello Real Booter!” Milky said, turning to the machine before her. “Today I would like… a veggie roll, a kimchi-ppang, and a… boong-uh-ppang.”

“Feeling adventurous today, aren’t you?” Yuki commented.

“Well, in the video we saw the other day— showing us what the world was like in the early 2000’s— when this place used to be called Korea— the food the people were having looked super yummy!”

By the time Milky finished her explanation, a soft chime emanated from the Real Booter before her, and the door automatically opened, revealing a steaming pork bun, a bushel of chopped veggies in rice paper, and a fruit-filled pastry shaped like a goldfish, all contained in paper wrappings and placed in a paper bag.

Milky thanked the Real Booter as she grabbed her food and began eagerly making her way out of the school with Yuki by her side. After a quick trip back to the classroom, where Milky grabbed her coat and Yuki grabbed her scarf, the two made their way out of the main entrance. Once outside, Milky dug into her bag, plucking out the veggie roll that she plopped into her mouth.

As Milky ate and Yuki followed, the two made their way to the forest located a block away from the school, walking along a well-worn dirt path. The trees and shrubbery surrounding their trail were bereft of greenery and coated in white snow from months before, painting the forest floor in a sea of white. Animals started to wake up from hibernation, the icicles were dripping, but there was still a notable chill in the air. Though, it did not particularly bother Milky as she sank her teeth into her steaming bun, letting out a satisfied noise with each bite. 

“You know Milky, that was a truly impressive speech for someone your age.” Yuki commented, looking down at her companion.

“Hm? Well, you helped a lot, Yuki. You always help me with my homework.”

“I only steer you in the right direction. Whatever you create is the fruit of your labor. Your understanding of how to write an essay is your own. I would be surprised if anyone else in this school wrote a better essay.”

“D’aw, you’re making me blush, Yuki. I don’t think I’m all that special. Not more than anyone else, anyway.”

“Heh. I suppose modesty is a better virtue in a child than arrogance, but do not cut yourself short. If you wish to pursue the path of a writer, then you should.”

“I dunno. I think I would rather try to get better at drawing, like big bro.”

“There is nothing preventing you from doing both.”

“Huh. I guess there isn’t—” Milky said before biting into her goldfish bread, “—Kyaaa! That’s so good!

Milky continued to chomp away at her treat, making joyous noises as the apple and sweet bread melted in her mouth. Yuki smiled as her partner rejoiced in her dessert, only to stop in her tracks, letting Milky walk past her.

Yuki could tell that something was not right within her vicinity. Her pink eyes grew pale as she ran various scans, spinning her body around as she searched for something. A something that she could not identify, but knew it was there. As a Machi, she was constantly picking up on tidbits of data in the world around her, and something was making her sensors go wild. She sent a silent alarm for help, assuming the worst for herself and Milky, but right as she sent the alarm, Milky spoke to her.

“Yuki, what’s that?”

Yuki dashed over to Milky in a rush, grabbing her hand before following her outstretched finger, looking deep into the woods. From behind the black trees and brown brambles, Yuki saw something she struggled to identify as any known object. It was dark. It floated no less than 30 centimeters above the ground. And instead of emitting or reflecting light, this object emitted darkness. It did not go far, it was clearly contained, but a non-identifiable thing like this, ominously hovering in the middle of the woods, on a bright day, was enough to instill any onlookers with a sense of dread. It was something that looked like it did not belong in the natural world, nor did it look like something created by humankind.

Milky tried walking towards this object to better examine it, but Yuki clasped her hand, urging her to stay put. She did, but her expression only worsened, shifting from curiosity to fear. Yuki remained put, murmuring to Milky that help was on the way, but before she could get a sentence out, she saw a… fluctuation in the dark void before her. The static object twisted in its vague proportions and from its dark embrace, Yuki saw a flash of color. A bit of skin. A… person’s hand. 

From this hand came an arm, and eventually a head, bearing jet black hair. The head was followed by a torso and eventually a pair of legs. It was a person, a human, who awkwardly flopped out of the dark object before Yuki and Milky, and landed face first in the snow below. Their body was female, their skin was dark, they were not wearing any clothes, and they let out a moan as they tried, and failed, to stand up.

As this woman’s flailing concluded, the dark void above her shrank until it was reduced to nothingness, leaving behind no visual indication that it was ever there. While this eased some worries, Yuki knew she could not risk letting this person die as her naked body was subjected to the elements like this. So she released Milky’s hand and took a step forward.

“Milky, you must stay here. If anything happens, run home. I will be okay. I can return. But your… life may be in danger.”

“What… What was that thing, Yuki?”

“I do not know. That’s why it’s so terrifying. So please Milky, stand back and let me investigate.”

Yuki slowly walked over to this person, performing dozens of scans as their distance closed in. With every scan completed, her expression grew increasingly dire, with the words ‘unknown’ and ‘inconclusive’ populating her augmented vision. She feared the worst as she finally touched this woman, grabbing her by the arm and summoning a needle from her ring finger. With this needle, Yuki drew a small amount of blood from the woman, getting only what she needed for her robotic body to conduct an analysis of this person’s blood.

Knowing this would take a few minutes, Yuki grabbed this woman from out of the snow. Her body was wet, her face was covered in mud, but her heart beat steadily. She was alive, but she needed to be given immediate attention to ensure her health.

“Milky, we need to take this person home with us.”

“O-Okay, but… who is she?”

“I cannot tell for certain. However, her safety comes before any of that.”

“Alright, I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

“Milky, don’t. You still have your afternoon classes and—”

As Yuki prepared to chide her partner into attending her afternoon class, one of her scans finished, and urged her to examine the woman resting in her arms. Yuki brought the towel up to clear the mud fully off the woman’s face. She was beautiful, her face lacked any imperfections, her skin was a deep brown, and she looked far too… familiar.

“…Milky, this takes priority over your education. Let’s go. I think we just found something extraordinary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at this woman’s face.”

Yuki returned to the forest trail with the woman in her arms, and brought her a meter away from Milky, close enough for her to make out every detail of this woman’s visage.

“She looks a lot like Abigale… Is she?”

“No. Abigale is thousands of kilometers away at the moment. And while they look extremely similar, this woman is not 100% identical to Abigale.”

“Then, who is she?”

“That’s what I want to know. Let’s head home. We have a lot of questions, but she needs to be clothed and sheltered before we can start asking any of them.”

“Gotcha! Let’s go!”

With that, Milky and Yuki began jogging down the forest trail and toward their home. While the woman in Yuki’s arms looked like a normal human, it was clear that she was something more. Something greater. Something that emerged from an anomaly unlike anything in recorded history. Questions, concerns, fears, and hopes all stirred between the two’s heads as they moved forward. Unaware of the true significance of this discovery, and unaware of the magnitude of madness that was to follow.


Psycho Bullet Festival 2222 Main Page
Bout 01: Enter The 2-2-2-2
Bout 02: Enter Raiyne Underwood
Bout 03: Enter Abigale Quinlan
Bout 04: Enter Miss Flare
Bout 05: Enter Terra Flare
Bout 06: Enter Verde Dusk
Bout 07: Enter The Righteous
Bout 08: Enter The White
Bout 09: Enter Nari
Bout 10: Enter Punky
Bout 11: Enter Peatrice
Bout 12: Enter Jad Spencer
Bout 13: Enter The Genociders
Bout 14: Enter The Destruction
Bout 15: Righteous X Genociders
Bout 16: Raiyne Underwood X Punky
Bout 17: Terra Flare X Genocider Jad
Bout 18: Verde Dusk X Peatrice
Bout 19: Abigale Quinlan X Nari
Bout 20: Black Righteous God X White Genocider Daemon
Bout 21: Enter Shin Abigale Quinlan
Bout 22: Exit The 2-2-2-2

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