Standing straight out, firm and unwavering, it points towards a glorious future! A shining finger, it’s glorious light banishing all lies and darkness before it! His voice is clear, his conviction loud! The struggle isn’t over yet! No, in fact he has only begun to turn it around!
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE ACE ATTORNEY SERIES
Another of your allies falls in battle. With a grim taste in your mouth, you recall him from the front line. Five down, one left. Your rival sneers at you from across the field. You’ve wanted to show him up since childhood, and this was supposed to be your big chance. Shame things never seem to work out they way you want them. Your hand reaches up to touch the small red and white orb hanging around your neck. Do you dare? Can you afford not to? Relying on its power is dangerous, and there’s no telling what the side effects could be. You think back to that puppy orphanage, six months ago. They’re still cleaning that up.
You raise your head, and lock eyes with the adversary. In his eyes you see the pride, the smugness, the total douche-baggery that you’ve hated for all of these years. Something inside you mans the f**k up. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care that he’s the old man’s grandson. You don’t care that there are thousands of innocent bystanders watching.
No. You’ve come much too far for it all to end here – to end like this.
You rip the orb from its setting, and push the small button on the face. In a blink, it goes from the size of a marble to that of a softball, filling your hand. You flip your hat around, brim to rear, and reach back, throwing the pokéball with all of your might and shouting:
“DANGERZONE, I CHOOSE YOU!”
You are walking down a dark alley in the city. Lost and trying to find a way home, your attention is arrested by a nondescript wooden door. A barely legible sign seems to read, “Hypeway.” Your curiosity aroused, you open the door. Warm light and soft music pours out, as though the universe is trying to equalize some sort of pressure. Your eyes adjust to the brightness as you enter and you spy an elegant looking bar. A familiar looking bartender with aviator glasses stands in front of an army of bottles – positioned rank and file like old soldiers.
He stops polishing the pint glass in his hand to wave you over to the bar – a plush stool inviting you to sit. You take a seat and your eyes fall to the counter top. In its polished depths you see old warriors and famous poets staring back at you. After a moment transfixed, the sound of glass on wood draws your eyes to your new companion – a shot glass filled with glowing amber fluid.
You know what this is. A mystical tincture said to turn cowards into heroes, boys into men, and men into GODS: LIQUID HYPE.