[ZO]Enek's Log: Drive

Pilot

P.I.L.O.T.S.: Personality Integrated Logistics-Operation-Targeting System. Such was the book titled as it slammed down onto the makeshift white desk. "Study it, memorize it, live it. This is your diploma, this is your license, this is your Bible," recited an older gentleman as paced back and forth in his faded black suit. His steps were mediated, like the tick-tock rhythm of a grandfather clock. Back and forth, back and forth swung the officer's legs, imitating the pendulum on its premeditated course.

Just like the torture device...mused the young man as he sat across from the desk, observing the officer's steps. They continued moving as the officer continued his lecture.
"This book also details the inner workings of the mech, such as..."
His legs are like the blade he holds, slicing away at the masses without a single sense of remorse...

"Along with how to utilize the phenomenon we've come to know as the OverDrive. Of course, you'll also find the ethics of dealing with..."
Ethics? Don't make me laugh. In this war-torn aeon, there's no such thing as ethics. And if there was, you'd be the last person I'd want to hear it from, murderer.
"That's only the brief outlook of what's in here. Like I said before, this is your Bible. Everything you need to know about being a top-notch pilot is in here."
Bible? This isn't a sermon; this is no church. Even if there is a God, they should have helped us a long time ago.

The officer stopped pacing. He slammed his hand on the desk. "Are you listening, private?" he yelled, shooting the young man a steely look. The young man snapped out of his reverie to face the officer, seeing him eye to eye for the first time in ages. As the young man watched the stare of the older man, he became suddenly aware of the cold, metallic tinge of the chair he was sitting in. The officer cocked a wry smile.
"Well, I expect great results from you, pilot. Good luck with PILOTS..."

The young man stood up to leave, saluting before he headed towards the door.
"...and a word of advice."

The young man paused, hand touching the metal bar of the door.
"Don't die."
For the first time in his life, the young man felt what it meant to be a pilot. For the first time, the bar in his hand felt warmer than the heat in his palm.