They said it was impossible but they still tried to stop me.

As the world flashed in and out of focus, I knew I was dying. I needed to breathe but couldn’t. It was as if something else was in charge of my body, interrupting its normal rhythms. I knew that there would be grievous side-effects but I hadn’t time to counter them. I was forced to Jump long before I was ready.

The world had groaned under the war that had spread across five of the continents. Officially, it was World War Three. Unofficially, it was America’s War, the Crusade, or “Conservative Unification”. Heinlein had been right, for it was a religious war in all but name, a final response to the terrorist attacks of the previous years. I felt sorry for them once- for a little while. Until their Flag and Cross darkened my doorstep, worn by armed brutes with a penchant for rape.

Anger at grievances long past tore a choking scream from my lungs and, like a newborn babe freshly spanked, I breathed again. With breath, came life- and purpose.