Holy Order™ - RF Online Philippines | Jyli: A Glaring Hot Day On Novus

Static hummed steadily. Jyli rarely noticed anymore, except in those few moments whenever he received orders. He did not know the elderly man who relayed the orders. He knew the man’s name and rank (which is precisely why the man’s face and voice rose over the many, many voices that filled his ears), but Jyli wondered at times if the man, whose words are law to him, even mattered to the universe.

He looked at the sky. It was a glaring hot day on Novus, and his pale hair stuck to his forehead and it stank between his scalp and helmet.

With a bitter smile, Jyli mused that the other voices probably said things that would be more interesting to him and it would do well for him to listen to them more often, but there were too many voices.

Jyli tried to not have thoughts like this. Thoughts like this only made the days longer. He didn’t need to constantly brood over the senselessness that has him living in mortal danger.

The war permeated every pore of his life like some disease, and he knew it would kill him eventually. Even worse, he didn’t even really care about the federations and bureaucracies that made this war necessary. At least, he thought, the war freaks actually believed in what they fought for.

“Or they just really enjoyed fighting,” he whispered. His helmet caught the words, and though he knew the words were delivered to everyone within a few hundred clicks, he also knew that nobody will even give it the slightest bit of attention. The numbness made him want to scream.

Now there’s something that would get him some attention. As free-flowing as the communication grid is (some genius thought that allowing the soldiers to speak freely boosted morale), everyone was made aware that they are being monitored for signs of “dissention or any of that sort of tomfoolery”. The rules that governed the communication grid were conveniently vague, but Jyli has learned that screaming gibberish counted as tomfoolery. He also knew that disobeying the rules got offenders cut from the grid for a while.

It didn’t sound so bad until he noticed that the offenders sometimes disappeared, never to be seen again.

Jyli slumped, and his clothes replied to the action with a series of sounds. Fabric whispered and plastics clunked. The staff in his hand flared a bit brighter as it registered the gesture, and Jyli felt a shiver course through him. Force thrummed through the staff’s inner lattice—Force that could vaporize rock and roast flesh. He used that power mainly to kill things that the old man, whose face and rank he knew, tells him to kill.

His hands gripped the staff tight, and Jyli felt his face twist at the despair that he’s been so desperately trying to ignore for what he was certain was too long a time and he felt himself wish—though he can’t tell if he found it funny or deeply sad—that he held an umbrella instead.

It was a glaring hot day on Novus.

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