From University Graduate to Soldier in an Interstellar Conflict: I Got Isekaied to an Alien World at War
Digitisation was complete. Now I have to wait for the army of robotic arms to put it back in its former state. I was still employing my patience in the hopes they can come to fix me as soon as they can. To not hear anything is a frightening experience. My helmet was airtight, and that’s good for an Earthling, but this benefit, without intention, is what has brought me into the predicament I am in right now.
It was this sombre reality that has made me realise how invaluable our five senses are to the daily function of us as humans. To not be able to do the things we love, or hate, would not be workable.
At least I can rely on my sight to make a sense of what’s going on around me.
Nearby was Telliwouf. It was facing the team of Bokels that were there participating in the levitation cable modification. From what I can tell, it must be informing them of something. I can only bring up guesses and theories on what it’s actually saying, two things I don’t think are worth delving into at all.
Diverting my attention were the robotic arms going to their dormant states.
The whirring. The groans. The boops and the beeps.
They were gone; their slow retreating fold-ins moved to what was a vacuum. Without sound, what the Bokels were doing lost its value, made more apparent that many were so far away, that they were blurs of red doing some random job.
Interpreting body language was not worth attempting on forms I am still getting used to that do not move in many instances. With humans, when we speak, we gesticulate. There is always something to pick up on regardless of the person. Bokels are the opposite. No dilated pupils, sweaty palms, dishevelled hair, or lack of eye contact. They are rigid, unflinching, and inert. Each one of them means the same but they are needed. You can’t describe their stationary behaviour with one adjective, it wouldn’t be right unless you lay it thick with all the right descriptors.
This situation gave me the stark reminder that I should push into non-verbal languages. But for this, it wouldn’t be of use. I would get a bunch of garbage data.
Fruisolp should’ve been here like ten minutes ago. The coordinates to this place are easy to access like everywhere else on this planet, so why are they taking their time to get there? Being deaf is horrible, even though this is based on a technicality, has lasted for a short while and is fixable, I still stand with the word ‘horrible’ for this travesty. For those who have this as their constant reality, I salute them. They have greater wills than me, proving that I wouldn’t survive being them.
And what about those with learning disabilities like those with dyslexia and ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder)? What if I was like one of them? For this as the cause of not engaging in manga or light novels, much less a particular work or genre, meaning much of my childhood wouldn’t exist. Without them, pursuing creative writing as a minor in university wouldn’t be a consideration. I do feel a sense of sorrow that many of these afflicted people will never be able to appreciate the magnificent worldbuilding and lore of Two Pace, the scientific stone-age wonder that is Rock-Hard Genius, or the dread and nihilism of Junga Iti’s Morningstar Ultima. They can still enjoy them through other forms of media so they still can get entranced in these worlds and characters and become lifetime mega-fans like me, but the look, the feel, the smell, of a fresh copy of a light novel, for example, is something that deserves to be experienced.
Most of these titles do have very successful, long-running animes - with the exception of Morningstar Ultima. But with how popular Junga Iti’s horror titles are, and as the face of horror in the Japanese manga scene, that should change soon, especially with several of his titles already having animated adaptations. Even Two Pace has a big-budget, live-action adaptation in development by Webflix. I have no faith that it will be worth watching. It will be a shock if it lasts more than one season, but I could be stunned by its quality and faithfulness. With Oha’s involvement, anything can happen.
I have to also give my gratitude to the fact I do not have to endure these issues from birth like those born with autism. The cost for the amount of specialists required would’ve been a tragedy to the family business. They would love me and do anything to make my life a little better. I know that without question. But in a world where people like that are at a disadvantage, how I would fare would most likely put me as a statistic like many others.
To talk felt off. Not being able to broadcast what I can say was chilling. This made me reclusive; the mounting failures forcing my lips sealed. I’ve become mute, like a certain freeloading Mutu. Fear and madness were becoming interchangeable. This had to be my lowest in a while. This asylum is getting hot or is it just me? A helmet is not the thing to wear when your main means of interaction is gone.
The erratic tapping of fingers on my thighs; breathing had an unnatural heft; hairs standing in wait - I was about to implode. A mental breakdown was near.
Wait… I can use speech-to-text. So I did. And it failed.
SPEECH-TO-TEXT IS NON-FUNCTIONAL.
Then this came:
ALL METHODS OF COMMUNICATION ARE DOWN.
But wait, there’s my suit. I can use that to get something out.
I get in. And this was what destroyed me:
SORRY, ALL METHODS OF COMMUNICATION ARE DOWN. PLEASE SEEK REPAIRS URGENTLY.
Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where. Are. THEY?!!!
The entire day had to have passed at this point. I thought waiting would be no big deal. All I needed was to be patient, right? RIGHT?!
Damn, where are they? I wouldn’t know if they wouldn’t be able to arrive again because I’m cut off from everyone. This is bad. If I cracked already, imagine having to hold on for a little while longer. I don’t think I can make it. All that emotion in a compressed space will be the death of my sanity.
Maybe I was never right in the head. Bearing squalid housing for a slice of home is not normal. This place has finally taken its toll. No vacations can fix this. I’m done. No more. If I can’t work with the Gloup military anymore, then so be it. This means I would lose access to the Tenkep Research Squad, but I can live with that. My parents are dead. Time to toss it to the side. There’s no point to believe otherwise.
I want this hell to take me. Laying on my back and having my left hand grab onto my right index finger, I wait for a reprieve.
Nosqouel places itself above me. I didn’t care for how gnarly its mouth looked, I wanted liberty; I wanted to hear again. Where I was given a prime window into the translator lodged inside. It was hard to see its entirety, much of it is hidden in flesh. Then it steps aside. I raise my upper half realizing how much of a mess I am. Drowning in worry, a mysterious being had appeared in the distance, not stopping despite its speed. Getting out of the way to preserve my vulnerable and exposed state was most important.
Let me wallow in my suffering, please! I focus on it more. That purple… I get on one leg, spread my arms and wait for it to come. Doing this made it run faster. I didn’t mind this. Behind it was familiar lifeforms of yellow, blue, green, and red.
I began to temper. They were here. I can be fixed. That unstable outburst was poor on my part. I need to work on that.
Delume tackles me headfirst. While on the ground, it presses its helmet into mine. You can tell it was happy to see me. But if this was anyone else, they would have the perception that they are being mauled.
It moves so the lifeform I was waiting for can come in from the side. Fruisolp was able to put it back to proper working order with the various tools that can attach to its fingers to open it from the back to operate on it. My audio and other communications were restored in no time. Sealing the back of my helmet shut with the tap point attachment, it explained that the microphones and the circuitry surrounding it were overworked from the extra processing done to convert from Japanese to Makupuu to Gloup. Also, there was some compensation for my incomplete vocabulary through substitution, rendering it unusable eventually. And today was the day it did.
As soon it was done, Frusiolp removed her tools, packed them into her hovering chest, and let Delume return to overwhelm my personal space. To see it after so long was great, but I wasn’t prepared for what it said to me: “I like you.”
“I like you.” Delume had distinctive femininity to her voice that the others with their gender-neutrality lacked. This is her accent when converted to Japanese.
“As a friend, right? It has to be that. It definitely has to be that.”
It shakes its head for a no.
“I like like you.”
This can’t be real. Seeing the remaining Tenkep Research Squad forming mischievous grins cemented the novelty of my situation.
Well, this is awkward. I blush like mad.