Soul Drive: Ignition

As the wind whipped around her, Atsuko glided effortlessly through the sky in her brown Mach 12 armor, the powerful thrusters propelling her towards the Canadian Embassy. As she flew higher and higher, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood – to a time when life was simpler and the weight of the world wasn't bearing down on her so heavily.

She remembered growing up in a small village nestled in the heart of a lush valley, far removed from the chaos of modern society. The villagers had chosen to reject all the new technologies the world had created, blaming them for the nuclear war and the near-total apocalypse. As the daughter of a missionary, Atsuko had been raised with the belief that technology was a double-edged sword, capable of both great good and unimaginable evil.

"Father, what do they call those?" Atsuko recalled asking one day as they stood on the outskirts of a bustling city, the flashing lights and moving screens casting an eerie glow on their faces.

"Billboards," her father had answered, his eyes sad and wise. "They are meant to inform and persuade. But since the war, they serve only to distract and deceive us into believing everything is ok."

Atsuko could not help but be enthralled by the images on the screens advertising new candies, restaurants, and more, venturing into the world beyond their secluded haven. Together, they would barter for clothes, food, and other supplies that her father could bring with him on his next mission. They were not wealthy or well off by any means; they lived off the scraps of what Atsuko's father didn't bring on his missions with him. Even so, he made sure to always share what little they had with those who needed it most.

"Here, take this," he'd say, pressing a bundle of clothes or food into the hands of a shivering beggar. "It's not much, but it's something."

"Thank you," the grateful stranger would whisper, tears streaming down their dirt-streaked face.

Atsuko watched her father in awe, convinced that he was a true hero. He taught her that compassion and kindness were far more valuable than any material possessions, and she vowed to follow in his footsteps.

Now, as she soared through the sky, Atsuko couldn't help but wonder if her father would be proud of the person she'd become. She had joined the Mach program to prevent the technology from being used as a weapon of mass destruction, but sometimes it felt like all she was doing was fighting an endless battle against the greed of the world.

"Father," she whispered into the wind, "I hope I'm making you proud." she was prepared to fight until her last breath if it meant ensuring the technology wouldn't be used to conquer her country.

-----

As Atsuko stopped to scan the massive Canadian Embassy, her mind continued to drift through her memories, she recalled the days when her mother would guide her in learning about natural medicines and therapies. Her village was plagued by disease brought in from the outside world, they couldn't afford actual medications but they had found most illnesses could be cured through other means. Atsuko wanted to help every villager who became ill.

"Patience, Atsuko," her mother would say, her warm eyes calm and concentrated. "We must assess each situation carefully, not everyone can be saved. We cannot help others if we become sick ourselves."

Atsuko took her mother's teachings to heart, and as a teenager, she began working at the village medical center. Her skills and abilities grew stronger with each passing day, the knowledge passed down from her mother like a lifeline connecting them, after her mother had passed.

One fateful day, she and her father were out gathering supplies when they heard whispers of a virus spreading among the homeless and elderly populations. Fear twisted in Atsuko's gut, and she couldn't help but worry that if they brought the virus back with them it could decimate the village.

"This isn't good if we have been exposed to the virus, what would happen to the village?" she asked, her voice quivering with concern.

"Have faith," he reassured her. "As long as we are cautious and take proper precautions, we will be fine. When we return to the village, before we enter we will wash ourselves and burn our clothes." Atsuko nodded but was still concerned about the unseen threat.

As they walked back towards the village, they stumbled upon a young boy crying beside the lifeless bodies of his parents, both claimed by the virus. Atsuko hesitated, torn between wanting to help and fearing for the safety of her own people.

"Father, we must leave him," she whispered, her heart heavy with guilt. She knew helping the boy would mean being unable to return to the village with the supplies they needed.

But her father couldn't bear the thought of abandoning the child. His eyes filled with sympathy, and he made a decision that would change their lives forever.

"I will stay with the boy," he told Atsuko. "You must return to the village with our supplies."

"Can't you just come with me?" Atsuko pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. "If the boy has it too, he won't survive it."

"You are right, without help, this boy will die, I will stay to give him a chance to live," he replied solemnly. "It will only take seven days to know for sure if he is infected. If all is well, we will join you then."

Atsuko hugged her father tightly, feeling the weight of his sacrifice settling on her shoulders. She reluctantly returned to the village alone, her father's words echoing in her ears.

"Take care of our people, Atsuko. I trust you."

As she walked away, her thoughts were a mix of worry and determination, understanding that the responsibility now lay with her. Every step she took was a promise – to her father, to herself, and the village – that she would do everything in her power to protect them.

"Father," she thought, as her tears fell like raindrops, "I won't let you down."

-----

On the seventh day, Atsuko stood by the village entrance, her heart pounding in her chest as she scanned the horizon for any sign of her father and the boy. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows that seemed to taunt her with their emptiness. Anxiety clawed at her insides, her hope was fading like the sunlight.

"He should be here by now," she murmured, her voice barely audible even to herself.

As minutes ticked by, her anxiety transformed into a sense of urgency. She could no longer stand idly waiting – she had to know if her father was still alive. With a deep breath, she set off towards the place where they had last seen each other.

When she reached the corner where she and her father had found the boy, she found it eerily empty. A chill ran down her spine as she realized there was no trace of anyone ever having been there, in fact, it was like the entire neighborhood had never been lived in. The streets were deserted, buildings abandoned, and the once glowing billboards were blank. It was as if the world itself had chosen to forget this forsaken place.

"Father! Where are you?" she cried out, her voice echoing through the desolate streets. Her mind raced with possible explanations of what happened to this bustling part of the city.

A gust of wind blew a tattered piece of paper into her path, and as she bent to pick it up, she saw the word: quarantine. Her heart sank like a stone as she continued searching, finding more signs warning of the dangerous infection that had taken hold of the area. She could feel the fear gripping her, but she fought against it, still hoping her father was ok and had just moved out of the area.

At last, she stumbled upon a flickering billboard clinging to life, displaying a government-issued message. As she read the words, her blood ran cold: "This neighborhood is ordered to be cleansed to ensure Kyoto survives the plague."

"No," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. At that moment, she knew her father was gone – a casualty of his own selfless compassion. Her knees buckled under the weight of her grief, and she crumpled to the ground, her cries echoing off the desolate buildings.

"Father," she sobbed, "I wish I could have convinced you to come back with me." Her mind racing as to how she could have stopped him from staying. How she could have forced him to come with her, but it was all too late. Now the only thing she could was change it so no one else could suffer this terrible fate.

-----

Astsuko's Mach AI informed her that there are over two hundred people in the embassy. At that moment, she remembered how she dedicated her life to preventing such senseless loss of innocent lives, using her political influence to challenge and change policies that caused harm. She had stopped the practice of cleansing infected areas and instead pushed for vaccination programs. But now two hundred lives were in her hands, for two hundred people everything was about to change.

"Only the guilty will die today," she vowed, her voice resolute amidst the roar of her armor's engines. "I will protect this world from those who seek to control it."

And with renewed determination, Atsuko plotted her course of attack as a way to ensure the safety of the innocent in the battle to come.

-----

Meanwhile, Hiro stood at the street corner where Osamu had instructed him to meet, nervously scanning his surroundings. He felt a cold sweat forming on his brow as he gripped the metallic casing of his Mach tightly in his hand. Osamu was late and Hiro didn't like it.

"Where is he?" Hiro thought, his heart pounding with anxiety.

Suddenly, it dawned on him – this must be a trap. But before he could react, armed military officials emerged from the shadows, surrounding him. Desperation surged through Hiro's veins as he fumbled to activate his Mach, but they were too quick. He was tackled to the ground, the cold pavement digging into his cheek.

"Damn it," he cursed in his mind, gritting his teeth.

Osamu appeared from the crowd of officers, a smug grin plastered on his face as he picked up Hiro's Mach from the ground. "We have the Mach secured. It's time to go," he announced, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Hiro struggled against the crushing weight of the official pinning him down, but without his armor, he was just a scrawny 16-year-old trying to fight off a 200lb man. He was easily overpowered and tossed into the backseat of a waiting car, handcuffed and panting for breath.

As the car pulled away, Osamu began to explain his true intentions. "It was my task to take care of the rogue Machs, and I have discovered they seem to follow you. So how do I get Mach 2, the only one of you left? simple I wave in front of his face."

Hiro remained silent, glaring at the man who betrayed him. Despite his anger, Hiro chose to listen, refusing to give Osamu the satisfaction of a response.

"I find you rather idealistic, thinking that destroying the Machs would prevent wars and devastation," Osamu continued, his tone condescending. "But it's human nature to cause harm and destruction. It comes from never being satisfied, even when you're at the very top."

Hiro rolled his eyes, clenching his fists in frustration as the car sped through the city streets.

"Once we get to the Embassy and you tell them everything you know, I'll ensure your release," Osamu said, smirking. "You're not a threat to anything without your Mach."

"Release?" Hiro thought bitterly. "As if that would ever happen." But for now, he had no choice but to play along, biding his time until he could find a way out of this nightmare.

The car came to a sudden stop outside the imposing Canadian Embassy, its sleek black exterior reflecting the dying light of the setting sun. Osamu yanked Hiro out of the vehicle, his grip firm and unyielding, as he led him through the grand entrance of the building. Hiro's eyes darted around, taking in every detail as they walked through the dimly lit corridors. He noted the positions of security cameras, discreet but watchful, and memorized the twists and turns that would lead him back to freedom if he was able to escape.

"Most Embassies have these," Osamu said nonchalantly, gesturing to the series of interrogation rooms they now stood before in the lower levels of the building. "Especially after the near-apocalypse. They need to be prepared for any threat."

Hiro swallowed hard, trying to keep his fear in check. He couldn't help but wonder which room Kimiko was in, whether she was okay. "Where is she?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Osamu simply smirked and refused to answer, instead pushing Hiro into one of the windowless rooms. The cold, sterile environment made Hiro shiver involuntarily. Daiki stood waiting inside, a predatory grin on his face.

"Welcome, Hiro," he sneered, activating Hiro's handcuffs with a flick of a switch. The cuffs suddenly became magnetized, dragging Hiro across the room with a powerful force until he slammed onto the metal table in the center, his heart racing from the impact.

"Let's find out how exactly you got your hands on a Mach and what you're planning, shall we?" Daiki continued, his smile never faltering. Hiro clenched his jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Fine," Daiki shrugged, unfazed by Hiro's silence. "We'll give you some time to think it over. But let me offer some... motivation."

With the press of a button, the room was filled with the agonized screams of Kimiko and Hiro's uncle Goro. Hiro's eyes widened in horror, his heart tearing in two as he listened to their pain.

"Those aren't real," Hiro told himself, gritting his teeth and trying to block out the sounds. "They can't be real."

As Daiki and Osamu left the room, Hiro fought against the magnetic pull, his mind racing with escape plans as he attempted to block the screams. But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted, and the screams continued to haunt him, could they be the real screams of his uncle and friend? He needed to get out of here and find them before the Canadians decided they didn't need them anymore.