ã€ŠAdamant Bloodã€‹


 Origin Story - 001

    Humans help other humans. That is how we survive the monsters.

    - Glorious Man, and many other heroes

    Honor is just as important as knowledge and power.

    - a common saying of the Settlement of Xerkona

    If violence isn¡¯t solving your problems then you aren¡¯t using enough of it.

    - popularized during the Reveal

    - - - -

    Prologue:

    - -

    Dan Clover held onto the edge of the cliff over an open abyss. Searchlight golems prowled the plateau above. The patrol was active, accidentally, and now he had to wait for them to settle down, or else they¡¯d rip him apart.

    His arms were already tired but he had trained for situations¡­ sort of like this. He could hang from a cliff all day.

    Or at least for 20 minutes.

    It had been 10 minutes so far.

    Archmage Sloane Addashield floated ahead, wrapped in magics that shielded him from the eyes of the Tutorial. He was actually here, inside the Tutorial, but only Dan could see him. Only Dan could hear him. If the man unshielded himself then he would invalidate Dan¡¯s Tutorial, and then Dan would Awaken some terrible, baseline power. He¡¯d probably be a fucking brawny, like almost everyone else. And then both he and his master would get kicked out. It was a bad outcome. The worst outcome was death, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen. None of the bad outcomes would happen today.

    Dan had trained too hard, ever since he was 8, to just become some fucking brawny.

    Dan didn¡¯t want to be a brawny.

    He wanted to be an adamantium mage.

    Archmage Addashield could make that happen.

    And so, Dan endured, holding onto the edge of the cliff, out of sight of the patrol, sweat dripping in his clothes and his sword weighing upon his hip¡ª

    The archmage said, ¡°The golems are still there. You have to hang on for another few minutes.¡±

    Dan¡¯s arms were tired.

    He tried not to think about it.

    Grunts and scrapes clanged across the air, like rocks striking rocks. Feet stomped. The searchlight golems were moving all over the place. Lights glanced out across the cliffside onto Dan¡¯s fingers, and then the lights kept going. They had ¡®seen¡¯ his fingers a few times, but not really.

    The golems searched, and they failed to find.

    Dan endured.

    The archmage didn¡¯t need to tell him that the golems were still there. This far into the Tutorial the monsters got smart. Not too smart, though. Not too powerful, either. Baselines were meant to clear this ordeal.

    Another full minute later and Dan was still hanging out on the edge of the cliff. It was mostly a sheer cliff, without any sort of handholds or otherwise on it, but it did have an angled ridge that Dan was able to wedge against, but Dan didn¡¯t trust that rock that well. It wasn¡¯t an actual step, but it alleviated some of the¡ª

    ¡°They¡¯re gone. Get up.¡±

    Dan whispered thanks to Freyala and started the horrible ordeal of climbing up. His arms were more tired than he thought¡ª

    He slipped.

    He caught himself on that angled rock even as his stomach felt like it dropped out of his chest. Breathing hard, and then breathing securely, Dan persevered, rising above the edge of the cliff on sore muscles that were just about to give out.

    Dan silently crawled, dirty and tired, onto the plateau.

    Quietly, Dan lay there for a minute, catching his breath and stretching his arms, all the while eyeing the golems in the middle of the field. This room was a simple room, in theory. A crowd of 5 golems, each the size of an Awakened brawny at 2 meters tall, stood all jumbled on each other in the center of the circular platform, their eyes not really looking in front of them at all.

    Their eyes were twinned spotlights; dual circles of illumination that lit up the world in 5 different pillars here and there across the platform. Those patches of vertical light shows slowly moved back and forth across the grassy clifftop. If you stepped into one of them you activated the golems. All of them.

    This was not a fighting challenge; all of that lay behind Dan now.

    The only way to win was to get past them.

    Their searching pattern was still a bit frantic, still jittery, with the spotlights zipping around sometimes before slowing down, resuming normal operations. Dan watched as their searchlight pattern went from frantic to methodical. The beams of light began to circle the platform, and Dan was in a relative safe zone in the pattern. The safe zone would vanish in 20 seconds, though, as that pair of spotlights over there entered this area.

    Dan got up and got moving.

    This time, Dan managed to step through the shadows properly, though he did have to finger his way across the cliff face yet again, in order to avoid the last few golem lights. That part of the puzzle had something of a ledge below that part of the cliff, so it was expected for a person to cross the final distance over the side of the cliff.

    Once he was back up on land, beyond the golem search lights, Dan easily made it through a portal of light, into the next room.

    Archmage Addashield was already waiting for him on the other side.

    In the relative safety of the hallway between rooms Dan almost wondered if Addashield was going to apologize for setting off the golems. He had been the one to get spotted, after all; not Dan. His sight-shielding wasn¡¯t perfect; it was just good enough to evade Malaqua¡¯s sight, and to allow Dan to complete his Tutorial unaided.

    Dan looked to Addashield.

    Addashield frowned at him. And then he sighed, and said, ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Dan felt a little bit of joy at that. He couldn''t actually say anything to Addashield, for Malaqua was absolutely looking at Dan, but he could grin a little, and nod.

    ¡°Yeah yeah,¡± Addashield said, ¡°If you ever tell anyone I apologized for anything then I¡¯m denying your apprenticeship.¡±

    Dan said nothing. Addashield was a prickly sort of bastard, but he was a Hero of Humanity, too.

    Dan stood before an archway that led into a sandpit of a room, with stage seating all around. A gladiatorial space, then.

    Addashield said, ¡°Three enemies. Two initial, one stealth surprise.¡±

    Dan readied his sword and advanced.

    Three more boss rooms later and Dan was done.

    He was bloodied and bruised and he needed some healing for a bite wound he had taken in the wolf pack back there, but he was done.

    He had completed his Tutorial.

    Archmage Addashield hadn¡¯t needed to help him at all! Dan was proud of that.

    Both of them were grinning wildly in the last room, where a pedestal stood in the center of a platform, and all the silver surface of the moon shimmered beyond. The sky was filled with stars, and with Earth, hanging up there, all blue/white/green and lit like a crescent by the sun. Here on the moon, the Demon City of Arakino was invisible beyond the platform, but it would reveal itself soon. Once Dan took his prize; his Ascension.

    A shining, bright beacon of crystal held upon the pedestal.

    The crystal was the size of a fist, and it was pure, prismatic mana.

    The pure value of it simply overwhelmed Dan. Dan had been born to a relatively powerful family on Crytalis, so he knew the value of that hunk of prismatic mana in many different ways. It was the cost of an archmage¡¯s services, or the cost of a city wall. It was the reward for the largest of Quests issued by the kingdoms of Daihoon, for killing a dragon, or a leviathan, which were both equally impossible tasks. It was the cost of a nuclear bomb, or a twisted faith.

    It was near impossible to get prismatic mana anywhere, except for here, in the Tutorial, where it was always the reward at the end. Dan almost wanted to take it with him into the real world, back to Daihoon, but that was just his father¡¯s want of money speaking. Becoming Addashield¡¯s real apprentice was worth more than that. A whole lot more.

    But if Dan touched it now he¡¯d be rolling the dice and probably end up with brawny.

    And Archmage Addashield was already fixing that problem.

    Addashield hovered around the pure mana, doing some sort of resonance, or something to it. Dan didn¡¯t really know. This particular lesson was beyond Dan, for now. All he knew was that the prismatic mana turned bright, burnished silver.

    It was no longer pure mana. It was now attuned to what Addashield could do; adamantiumkinesis.

    The Archmage backed away from the silver hunk of beauty, saying, ¡°Hurry. Before Malaqua sees the change.¡±

    Dan eagerly stepped forward and grabbed the hunk of pure metal mana¡ª

    Power flooded into Dan¡¯s body, twisting what was already there into something better. Something Dan chose for himself. It hurt. Dan endured¡ª

    All feeling vanished at once except for a headache. He couldn¡¯t feel his body, but he was moving. His eyes shot open and¡ª

    Dan watched as the world went sideways.

    He knew what had happened even before his head struck the ground.

    Archmage Sloane Addashield¡¯s swords were out, looking like sweeping curves of liquid black.

    Dan¡¯s vision turned away as his head rolled away.

    Betrayal.

    Dan had never considered the possibility that Addashield could ever do this to him, but he knew betrayal long before now. He wasn¡¯t some idiot child. And yet, Dan had never thought that Addashield would have been a betrayer. Never!

    Rage and impending death narrowed Dan¡¯s vision.

    He watched from the ground, his head rolled into view of his still-standing body, as Archmage Sloane turned bright red.

    Demonic power veined up those floating swords and also Addashield¡¯s face, and then Addashield¡¯s metals ripped into the stump of Dan¡¯s severed neck, up there, on his body. Sloane shoved power into that neck. Metal began to form a head, a face, upon Dan¡¯s body, and it looked like him¡ª

    Demonic light laughed as it shouted, ¡°Nope! Don¡¯t like him!¡±

    Addashield¡¯s metal exploded out of Dan¡¯s body, ripping it apart.

    Addashield looked furious.

    Dan was furious, too, but seeing that Addashield didn¡¯t get what he wanted was a good enough memory for him to let go. To fade away.

    Dan died.

    - - - -

    Chapter 1:

    - -

    Being a normal human was tiring, and Mark was exhausted.

    Mark Careed twisted his grip on his rusted sword, angling the broken weapon to deflect the goblin¡¯s cleaver. It was a risk to use rusted shit-steel. It was a risk Mark had needed to take. Cleaver met rusted sword in a clang that rang down Mark¡¯s arm, and the sword held. The cleaver went to the side by fractions and the goblin did not recover fast enough. Mark ignored the stinging sweat in his eyes as he slipped forward, into the opening he had made. Rusted metal met thick green neck and the beast flinched away, almost ruining the strike. But Mark had hit. The sword¡¯s tip broke off in the goblin¡¯s neck.

    Blood started to flow.

    It might have been enough.

    The goblin grabbed its neck and red flowed from between its fingers, its roars turning crazed as it lifted its cleaver and tried to kill.

    Mark retreated, letting the flowing blood do the rest of the work for him.

    Fighting was tiring work.

    This was the final boss monster of the False Tutorial, here in this open, sandy arena, where empty stands viewed a trial that was not real, but which still felt damned legitimate. The goblin was a lightshow projection, but it still fought and bled like a real monster. Mark was a baseline human, and he was certainly bleeding from all the trials thus far, but his wounds were all superficial. Maybe in 6 months, when Mark turned 18, Mark could complete the real Tutorial and he would be more than a simple human, faltering and fading after just a few hours of¡ª

    Mark tripped on a larger-than-average drift of sand. A wild swing by the goblin almost ended his trial right then and there. But Mark rolled with the fall. Another strike came for him and Mark raised his broken weapon enough to parry, sending the goblin¡¯s cleaver out of the monster¡¯s grip, spinning wide. The cleaver sailed three meters away and suddenly Mark was the only one with a weapon in this confrontation.

    If that would have been enough then Mark would have won this fight already.

    The goblin should have needed to actually go and get the weapon, but the cleaver vanished from the sand and appeared in the goblin¡¯s hand. Mark only had enough time to get up off the ground and prepare for another round. He wouldn¡¯t make the mistake of thinking he had actually disarmed his opponent. Not a second time.

    Blood still flowed down the beast¡¯s chest, thin yet pumping.

    How much blood did a single damned goblin have!

    Mark kicked sand at the monster and the goblin roared and swiped, pinching its eyes shut as it swiped again, completely missing Mark. The goblin boss wasn¡¯t even in the same vicinity as Mark. It could still hear, though, so Mark was careful to walk slowly and quietly.

    The goblin took another swipe at empty air, but that one was slower. More of a fending swipe, and not an attacking swipe. It was slowing down. It was dying.

    Mark didn¡¯t let the near-victory go to his head. Not yet. He controlled his breathing. He made no sudden sounds upon the sand.

    The goblin was still alive.

    It stepped forward¡ª

    The cleaver dropped.

    The goblin roared. Fury. Hate. Death. It wanted to kill Mark. But¡­

    The goblin¡¯s roar died.

    And just like that, the final boss fell to the ground and broke into a splash of mana, spilling out into the sands of the False Tutorial like so much broken spellwork.

    Mark had won?

    He took a moment to make sure it wasn¡¯t a trick.

    ¡­ Mark had won!

    The entire False Tutorial began to unravel. Sands whipped away from the ground. The empty stands vanished into light shows and broken magic. Mark smiled wide, letting his broken, rusted sword fall to the ground. The sword struck the solid stone under the arena floor, bounced once, and then dissolved like all the other fakery of the False Tutorial. The straps of Mark¡¯s broken shield vanished from around his forearm, alongside the boiled leather armor that he wore, that he had found just a few hours ago, as a reward for solving a waterflow puzzle.

    Blood still matted Mark¡¯s face. Cuts pained his left arm, where his shield had broken taking a blow from the goblin boss in the other arena. That other goblin had used a mace with a nail in it, and that weapon had gotten through Mark¡¯s wooden shield and broken the damned thing. The goblin with the cleaver had been worse.

    But Mark was confident, now.

    He was confident that he could pass the real Tutorial, when he finally turned 18. And he still had 6 more months to prepare! So much time to get even better!

    He smiled.

    He read the words overhead.

    Congratulations!

    False Tutorial Complete

    Please see

    for the assessment of your innate mana signature, to see which power, talent, knack, or otherwise, you might unlock in the real Tutorial.

    Mark smiled. He 90% knew what his assessment was going to say, but he hoped, desperately, that it said something other than what it told almost every human living on Earth. The Veil was great about keeping most of the monsters away, but it made most people turn out as basic brawnies.

    Mark did not want to be a brawny.

    A stone door at the side of the arena opened, leading to a bright hall beyond. The lights of the assessment room began to dim from the outside in, subtly telling Mark to get a move on. He got the message. Mark walked across the stone, holding his head high, and the light closed off behind him as he left the room. When he stood in the hallway beyond, the room behind him was fully dark. And then the dark shifted, and became stone. There was no door; there was simply the wall.

    That¡¯s how these stone temples were; places of manifested magic, where nothing was as it was, because everything changed at the needs of the people inside.

    Other not-doors held beside the testing hall, only visible because they were in use. All of them had screens on those doors, showing the person and the trial inside. Mark only knew one of the people here right now. Sally Wuthers. They had come here together today and they were best friends. They were in the same high school in Orange City, and both of them took all the combat elective classes they could get. They had toyed with being girlfriend and boyfriend twice before, because they were both interested in the same things of saving people and killing monsters. Everyone had always assumed that they were together because they usually were together. They had toyed with the idea of dating once, in a sort of ¡®might as well try it?¡¯ kinda way.

    Neither of them liked each other that way.

    Mark smiled as he watched Sally spear a mutant otter through the heart, and he was kinda jealous.

    ¡°You actually managed to get a spear, eh?¡±

    Mark wished that he could have found a spear. All he had found in his trial were swords and shields. All that was random, so not finding your preferred weapon was always a risk. He looked to the ¡®percentage done¡¯ column of Sally¡¯s False Tutorial and rapidly decided he wasn¡¯t going to wait around for Sally to finish. She was only 85% done. She had another hour to go, at least. She wouldn¡¯t wait for him, and he wasn¡¯t about to wait for her; they would talk later. Mark had been too fast; he usually was.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    He knocked on the stone wall beside her door, saying, ¡°Good luck.¡±

    It wouldn¡¯t disturb her combat; it was more for the spirit of the gesture.

    And then Mark walked down the hall. He was still bruised and bloodied, but the gentle calming of the Stone Temple of Malaqua was already healing his wounds, using whatever magic it used to do that. By the time Mark made it out of the hallway the only indication that he had been fighting for his ¡®life¡¯ were the rips and tears in his clothing.

    He stepped into the main, massive room of the cathedral.

    The Stone Temple could change at the whim of the priests. Right now the main room was an empty space with Priest Andrews sitting behind a desk at the back of the cathedral. A floating monitor held above the desk, and Andrews intently watched a show. There was no one else here besides Andrews.

    And now Mark was here, too.

    Mark waited beside the desk.

    Andrews didn¡¯t notice him. He was focused on his show. It looked to be at an exciting part with spells flying and people proclaiming their undying love for each other on a battlefield.

    Mark waited. He watched with Andrews for a moment¡ª

    Andrews glanced his way, his eyes going wide¡ª

    ¡°MALAQUA FU¡ª¡± Andrews cut himself off and collected his words and thoughts, taking a deep breath. He glared at Mark.

    Mark tried a little grin.

    Andrews sighed, and then he put on a smile. ¡°You scared me.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about interrupting your show. It looked neat.¡±

    Andrews chuckled. ¡°Ohhh. Yes. I¡¯ll get back to it¡ª Wait.¡± And then Andrews realized what was happening. ¡°Oh! You finished so fast!¡± He paused. Then he paused his show. ¡°Did you¡­¡± He left the question unasked.

    Mark had tried the False Tutorial twice now, and this time he had passed.

    He didn¡¯t like to think about the previous time.

    ¡°I passed, yes,¡± Mark said, practically beaming, delighted that he could say that.

    ¡°Congratulations!¡± Andrews got up out of his chair, happily smiling, saying, ¡°I know you worked so hard to get there. You and your friend Sally. You¡¯re absolutely going to make it in the real Tutorial, for sure!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the hope!¡± Mark said, and then he stopped there. Andrews was a great guy, but he was kinda discombobulated. Mark decided to add, ¡°I hope that my readout is a good one.¡±

    ¡°OH! Yes yes. Of course.¡± Andrews began fumbling around under the desk¡ª ¡°Ah ha!¡± He pulled out a paper and held it against his chest, making sure that neither of them could read what it said right now. And then he entered lecturer mode. ¡°You were very fast in there. I hope when you take the normal Tutorial that you decide to go slower. Promise me this.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°I know I went fast. I saw opportunities and I took them. I took no more risk than what was expected, though.¡±

    ¡­ Andrews frowned a little. ¡°Perhaps.¡± He continued, ¡°The False Tutorial will not end in your death, no matter what happens. The real Tutorial has no safeties on it at all, for the dangers of mana are unending. Mana is not safe. When the Veil broke in 1969, hundreds of millions died to monsters, but just as many died to mana exposure. When you take the Tutorial, you are stepping out of the safety of Earth¡¯s Veil. It is not safe.¡±

    Mark listened to the condensed sermon, and nodded at the end of it like he needed to nod. ¡°Thank you for your concern, Priest Andrews.¡±

    Andrews continued to hold Mark¡¯s readout hostage as he spoke, ¡°What happened here today was a False Tutorial, gifted to us by the New Pantheon so that people can test themselves and decide to opt out of the real Tutorial, or to plow ahead and Awaken their true selves. For several years after the Reveal, people didn¡¯t get the choice. An entire generation of children died. You should go slower.¡±

    Mark nodded, trying to be respectful but all he wanted was that paper and he had heard all of that before. ¡°Yes, sir. I understand.¡±

    ¡°And you understand that what is on this paper is not the whole truth? Even brawnies are useful. They¡¯re the most useful classification of people, in fact. Easily able to stand up against any basic monster, they¡¯re always the ones who survive the most.¡±

    Mark¡¯s hopes for something good on that paper fell drastically.

    Priest Andrews noticed.

    He handed over the paper.

    All thoughts of caution went out the window as Mark greedily took the paper¡ª

    And then realized that he should be a bit more professional about it, so he calmed himself. He breathed. He closed his eyes and prayed to the New Pantheon for a good readout.

    Back when the world used to be normal, 78 years ago, people didn¡¯t get Powers, or Talents, or Knacks, or even Whispers. They certainly didn¡¯t get mana and the ability to make magic. But then Neil Armstrong had stepped onto the surface of the moon and broken the Veil between Earth and Other Earth, the world of Daihoon.

    The moon revealed itself as a lie.

    What was once a grey, airless land of dust and rock and craters became a grey, airless land of rock and craters and deep cracks that showed through to the True Demon City underneath it all. The Demon City of Arakino stood revealed in those cracks, like lightning scars upon the moon, and mana from Other Earth, on the other side of the Veil, began to pour through onto Earth.

    Magic returned to Earth, bringing with it horrific monsters that should have killed all of humanity...

    Or at least that¡¯s what the historians say should have happened.

    But humanity was in the middle of the cold war at the time and there were lots of worldly tensions that were easy enough to aim at the dragon trying to make Moscow into a new nest, the leviathan trying to turn the Grand Canyon into an abyssal well, and a whole bunch of other major monsters trying to eat cities all over the Earth.

    Some cities did get eaten.

    Half the world died in three years. Nuclear weapons and some unlikely archmage allies from Other Earth were a match for most of those monsters, either making short work of the smallest threats or sending the biggest threats back to Endless Daihoon.

    In the aftermath of the Reveal, Earth was not stable, and Daihoon wasn¡¯t any better off. The people of Daihoon had expended much of their power trying to save the people of Earth, in the brief hope that Earth could help them in turn. Everything could have crashed. One or two dead archmages in those early years would have sent both worlds spiraling into True Apocalypse. It wasn¡¯t till the New Gods and the City AIs came along in the decades following The Reveal that things started to truly turn around.

    But not really.

    The ocean rose 23 meters, too.

    And now Earth needed real heroes. Superheroes, if it could get them.

    Mark wanted to be a hero.

    More than that, he didn¡¯t want to be a civilian.

    Mark breathed in and out, clutching his readout to his chest, hoping for the best. If this False Tutorial showed that he would get anything close to what he wanted then when he turned 18 in 6 months he would choose to accept the Awakening, to take the Tutorial for real, and unlock whatever innate power lay dormant within his soul.

    Mark didn¡¯t know what it meant to be special, but he imagined it would be working with friends to better all worlds. But even in the small ways, life would be different. He¡¯d be allowed out of the city walls, into the real world. He could visit the Hero Quarters of the world, where they hid all of the secrets of magic and mana, and where people flew from one building to the other, or they ate ice cream made from ice magic, and where they planned the defenses of the world with fellow like-minded individuals with powers that would compliment their own.

    Mark wanted to be a part of a hero team, killing monsters and saving the world.

    Could he stop hurricanes like Mistress Storm? Could he kill an entire monster horde with a swing of a sword like the Gladiator? Punch out a kaiju like Glorious Man?

    Or maybe he could be a simple kind of hero; the mundane, everyday kind of hero like his own Uncle Alexandro, with his True Healing magic. Healing magic was great! Being a healer would be wonderful. Maybe, if Mark didn¡¯t unlock a healing power, he might go to the Temple of Freyala and sign up for the basic Chosen system to get some divine healing on tap, like a lot of warriors did.

    Most people born on Earth were brawnies, though. 90% of people.

    A brawny with healing magic was still a good option, though, right?

    ¡­ No.

    Mark wanted more than that.

    He wanted more than what his parents got, too.

    Dad and Mom never went through the Tutorial because they both knew who they wanted to be at young ages and you didn¡¯t need to be a brawny or brawny variant in order to raise fish on the family farm, like Dad, or to be a writer, like Mom. Most people were discouraged from taking the Tutorial, too, because it was damned dangerous. It was much easier to go to arcanaeum for a year and learn a spell you choose to learn, instead of the one that Awakening awakened. Mom and Dad both choose their power, and¡ª

    Andrews asked, ¡°Are you going to read it?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m scared.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t change what¡¯s on the paper.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yup.¡±

    Anything but brawny, Mark thought.

    And then he looked down at the paper.

    Superpower, unknown type, not detectable. .00001% chance.

    Talent: Brawn, standard strength growth expected. ~2.35 times stronger than baseline. 95% chance.

    Talent: Brawn, variant, speedster, 4% chance.

    Knack: unknown type, not detectable, 1%

    Whisper: 0%

    Mana chance: 0%

    Ah.

    Yeah.

    An average spread.

    A terrible normality.

    Mark¡¯s breath stilled. He remained standing as though carved from stone, but every single thought and feeling in his body had fallen out and landed at his feet somewhere. A house of dreams imploded. Hot tears flowed.

    And then Mark breathed out.

    He chuckled.

    He said, ¡°I suppose this is normal.¡± He breathed again. ¡°Not sure why I was hoping for something different.¡±

    With a kind voice, Priest Andrews said, ¡°Most people are brawnies, if they choose to Ascend at all. It¡¯s great if you¡¯re a soldier or going into any regimented sort of situation¡­ But that¡¯s not what you wanted to hear. I¡¯m very sorry, Mark.¡± He adopted a happy tone, saying, ¡°You could always try learning magic the hard way! Lots of people forgo the real Tutorial and learn magic the hard way.¡± He could tell Mark didn¡¯t care about that, so he tried, ¡°And then there¡¯s the Chosen system.¡±

    The Chosen system. It wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as making deals with demons for power, but it was close, according to some people. Mark was mostly ambivalent about Choosing a god, and he had even decided that talking to Freyala was a good idea, long before he got here, to this moment in his life.

    But he was too furious with life to think about that.

    Mark spat at the hated readout, ¡°I don¡¯t want to devote my life to a god.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ hmm.¡± Andrews paused. ¡°This brawny thing is hitting you a lot harder than I thought it would. I thought we had spoken about the Chosen system before, and you liked Freyala. I¡¯m partial to Malaqua, obviously, but Freyala is pretty good. They all are!¡±

    Mark crumpled the paper. With hateful sarcasm, Mark said, ¡°Not like you need power to travel the world, eh?¡±

    If you didn¡¯t have power, then you were a civilian.

    If you were a civilian, then you could only ever live inside the walls of the cities, or travel from city to city in armored convoys. You could never explore the world, or get a real job, and if there was ever an emergency then you had to listen to the rescuers. You could never be the one calling the shots.

    Civilians could never hop in a hovercar and go visit the beach. The beach had to be cleared by the city before any civilian was allowed to visit and the beach was only open to civilians for 3 months out of the year.

    And even if you were a brawny you were still ordered around!

    Dammit!

    Even brawnies were weaklings¡ª

    ¡°Mark. Look at me.¡± Andrews stared into Mark¡¯s eyes, and said, ¡°Brawny is a great option. Most people are brawnies. Construction workers, farmers, wall gunners, soldiers; anything physical in your entire life is made easier by being a brawny. You can do a lot with brawny. Brawnies are still firmly human, but simply stronger in every possible way. Do not denigrate brawnies, Mark, for brawnies are the backbone of every anti-monster team and a whole lot more besides. They survive the hits and keep on living. All other inclinations cannot boast that sort of staying power. Once you pass Curtain Protocol, you¡¯ll find out why.¡±

    Curtain Protocol. Mark kinda hated that he couldn¡¯t just get answers to how magic worked, or how powers worked; not as a ¡®child¡¯. It would ruin his Awakening. Everyone knew someone who got too curious and who developed a knack instead of an actual power. ¡®The ability to taste sound¡¯ was pretty shit compared to even the most basic brawny with 2-times human strength.

    Mark swallowed fury and injustice and said, ¡°¡­ I guess brawny is better than some things.¡± Mark looked at the paper, and pretended to feel better. He nodded. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right. I¡¯m not sure what came over me.¡±

    Aside from the fact that brawnies were not special at all. Sure, they were the bulk of the world¡¯s might against the magic, but they couldn¡¯t do shit against the real threats and...

    Mark had hoped that he was special.

    Andrews softly said, ¡°This same thing happens to most people when they find out they¡¯re brawny. Everyone wants something better, but you were born on Earth, and the Veil does many things to keep us away from the horrors of Endless Daihoon. A side effect is that most people are naturally brawnies. You knew this. You know this. I had thought you were okay with this. Your reaction has taken me by surprise. With how fast you cleared the False Tutorial I would have thought you would have loved being a brawny.¡±

    Mark shook as he sighed.

    He had almost said something like ¡®Yeah! Who doesn¡¯t love slogging in the mud and shit their whole life!¡¯ or ¡®I love taking wounds all the time!¡¯ or ¡®I¡¯m a masochist who likes being at the bottom of the power scale!¡¯.

    But that would have been petulant.

    And yet¡­

    Back when Mark was 8, he saw Glorious Man on the television for the first time. Glorious Man was a brawny with times-250 strength. If that¡¯s the kind of brawny that Mark had been, then he would have been truly happy. But by 9, Mark knew that Glorious Man was an outlier.

    Mark¡¯s own estimated 2.35-times brawny was almost exactly the average multiplier for a brawny. Most people were somewhere between 2.25 to 2.5.

    ¡°Maybe I will love being a brawny,¡± Mark said, lying to himself as he looked at the crumpled paper in his hands. He unfolded the readout and properly folded it back together. He held it for a while. Softly, he told himself, ¡°Maybe this is for the best.¡±

    ¡°The best Awakening is the one that is true to yourself,¡± Priest Andrews said.

    ¡°¡­ This is what Malaqua sees in me, eh?¡± Mark asked, ¡°Is this really my true nature?¡±

    Andrews smiled. ¡°Malaqua¡¯s power Awakens within people what they are; yes. If you want to Awaken in a specific way, then I suggest you try the Chosen system, or you look into arcanaeum. Mages can be whoever they want to be; the rest of us have to muddle along.¡± He held Mark¡¯s shoulder for a moment, eyes meeting eyes, as he said, ¡°You will love being a brawny. Most every brawny does.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah.¡±

    Mark stared at the ground for a moment longer, Andrews¡¯ hand an uncomfortable weight upon his shoulder.

    And then he walked out of Andrews¡¯ touch and walked out of the Stone Temple, into the afternoon sun. It was a balmy summer day in Orange City, in the Floridas, and Mark felt too hot. He was still angry. He had not wanted to be a brawny for¡­ for many reasons.

    There was one big reason he didn¡¯t want to be a brawny, though, and that was because¡ª

    - - - -

    ¡°¡ªBrawnies are required to enlist in the army for a year,¡± Mark said, over dinner. ¡°A whole year. I got no problem with that, but I¡­ I wanted to go to a hero school. Maybe even the Endless Academy. I think I¡¯d even take arcanaeum and forge my own mana pathways instead of this brawny shi¡ª stuff.¡±

    Mom spooned potatoes onto her plate, saying, ¡°It¡¯s not ideal, I know, but arcanaeum is expensive, and you¡¯ve been preparing for the Tutorial. There¡¯s no way you won¡¯t pass the real Tutorial. I can at least be safe in knowing that much, even if I don¡¯t like the idea of you Ascending at all.¡±

    Mark had no idea why Mom was talking like that. Like it was some sort of small thing that just happened, and not like the horror that it was. Like this wasn¡¯t the end of Mark¡¯s dreams.

    Mom didn¡¯t understand. That was her problem.

    Mark didn¡¯t know how to explain it properly. That was his problem.

    ¡°I just wanted to be¡­ special,¡± Mark tried.

    Dad took the potatoes next, saying, ¡°You don¡¯t have to Awaken. There¡¯s nothing wrong with working for a living, but the government payout for defense of the city does pay a lot more than most other jobs. The money I pay Devon and Trace for helping with the fishing is just a side-gig to them. You¡¯d be set if you wanted to work for the city, though you do have to drop everything for them when they ask you to. I can¡¯t tell you how many times I needed to pull up early when either of them got called in for whatever.¡±

    Mark¡¯s stomach dropped.

    Oh gods.

    Mark had known life would be different as a brawny. But he didn¡¯t expect¡­ his whole life, devoted to the city? No. That was the opposite of the freedom of being Awakened. Awakened were supposed to be able to go anywhere and everywhere they wanted. Not be tied to the city!

    Dad was exaggerating, for sure.

    ¡­ Mark had taken classes on what was expected of him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad?¡± Mark asked, unsure and praying in the same sentence.

    Dad hummed, waggled his head, and said, ¡°It¡¯s kinda that bad.¡±

    ¡°Your father is exaggerating a little,¡± Mom said, ¡°But! If you don¡¯t want to Awaken as a brawny¡­¡± She paused. She looked to Dad. Dad got a quizzical look to him, as Mom said, ¡°We could move.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Dad asked, dumbfounded.

    Mark was dumbfounded, too. Move? From home? From this house? What a weird thing to say!

    Mom told Dad, ¡°Your brother and his husband moved to Memphi last year. It¡¯s a tier 4 city so it¡¯s a lot bigger than Orange City, and it¡¯s a lot more lax around simple brawnies. Mark wouldn¡¯t have to sign up with the city if we moved to Memphi.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. She was serious. Mark asked, ¡°Move? I didn¡¯t think¡­ Uh.¡±

    He didn¡¯t expect to start a conversation like that.

    Dad frowned a little, asking Mom, ¡°You don¡¯t like the Floridas?¡±

    ¡°I like the Floridas,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°I love the Floridas,¡± Mom said. ¡°I like Orange City. I don¡¯t like the East Coast Union, and the ECU is what will force Mark to become a soldier in the collected army.¡± Mom said to Mark, ¡°I know what you want out of life, honey. You want to run all over the place, getting into all sorts of trouble, and that¡¯s fine, because I know you¡¯re a good man. But the ECU has these restrictive laws about all supers and you¡¯re going to run into those laws, no matter what you manage to get in the real Tutorial. You want to go to the Hero Quarter, yes? Well if you Awaken you¡¯ll be restricted from coming home, here to Gladegrove. And so, maybe we should move.¡±

    Dad said, ¡°That restriction about living here is not a real one. We can do the paperwork, and Mark is literally grandfathered in.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Mark said, and maybe asked at the same time. ¡°I thought there wouldn¡¯t be a problem?¡±

    Mom said, ¡°I¡¯m just saying that Mark will need to watch himself around everyone once he passes the Tutorial¡ª¡± She looked to Mark. ¡°And you might not want to live here at home anymore, too.¡± She said to both of them, ¡°And so, now is when we talk about moving.¡±

    Dad frowned a little, thinking.

    Mark silently thought, too. He had read the laws. He had taken the preparatory Tutorial classes. ¡°I heard the laws weren¡¯t that bad? It¡¯s just reserves in the army, isn¡¯t it? I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re both talking about.¡±

    Dad and Mom went silent.

    ¡°¡­ What?¡± Mark asked, ¡°I really don¡¯t understand? Like. I took the classes. It¡¯s a weekend of service every month for almost everyone?¡±

    Dad eventually said, ¡°It¡¯s a Curtain Protocol thing.¡±

    Bah!

    Mark let the point go. There was only so much he could push to get his questions actually answered, and he had edged that line.

    Mom changed the subject, ¡°Have you ever considered mage work? Avoid the mana baptism of the Tutorial altogether? Make your own mana baptism?¡±

    No. Mark had never considered that, because that¡­ Uh.

    That cost too much money¡­

    Uh.

    ¡­ Was she saying what Mark thought she was saying?

    Dad must have thought so, too. ¡°Honey?¡±

    Mom said, ¡°We could afford a single year of arcanaeum and Mark could avoid brawny entirely. He could make his own mana baptism. Get a spell or three. That¡¯s all you really need to succeed in life. And he¡¯s young! He could do it. I got cleanse. You got fish-yank.¡±

    Dad corrected Mom in a rote sort of way, ¡°Telekinesis.¡±

    ¡°Fish yank,¡± Mom repeated.

    Mark felt a weight descend upon his shoulders. They could not afford to send him to arcanaeum. They were on basic income and even so, Mom and Dad both worked full time, too. College was free, but arcanaeum was not free at all. They had both managed to get a single year of arcanaeum themselves, years ago, but both of them were barely competent with their spells because they weren¡¯t mages. Dad¡¯s telekinesis was pretty much ¡®fish only¡¯, since that was how he had grown that power, even if unintentionally, and Mom¡¯s cleanse could only work on water, making the water cleansing.

    Dad had a lot of sudden doubts, saying, ¡°We can¡¯t really afford that.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°We could afford it, Markus.¡±

    Dad was having doubts, too. ¡°The fishery is¡­ We¡¯re hauling out as much as we can. We¡¯re already skirting monster attacks with how much we haul out. We¡¯d have to hire another person if we hauled out more, and that would just cost us more.¡±

    The family fishery was a series of metal cages out in the bay that belonged to the family, and which Dad had been in charge of for twenty years so far, ever since grandpa turned it over to him after grandma passed. Dad made good money hauling fish out of the cages and bringing them into market for mass sales, and he kept two other guys in jobs, but it wasn¡¯t a rich sort of life.

    Mark was happy with the life he had here but¡­ But he wanted more.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what ¡®more¡¯ really meant, but he knew he wanted it.

    ¡°I know it¡¯ll be tough, honey. But we could try it, right?¡± Mom said, ¡°Maria has been asking me about helping her clean houses. I can do that and cut back on my editing work.¡± She looked to Mark, saying, ¡°You might have to go to work with your father at the fishery for some shifts after high school, but you can live here at home, of course. You won¡¯t be able to attend classes on arcanaeum campus, so it¡¯ll have to be tele-class, like your dad and I took, but you can do it. You can make your own magic in life, instead of being satisfied with what your earth-soul says you have.¡± She said to them both, ¡°Or we can move to a better city, where they have a better basic income, like Memphi at tier 4 instead of Orange City at tier 2. We can ditch the car payment. We can sell this massive house for a nice new start and we can live in public housing for a few years, or maybe we¡¯ll find a nice place by your brother. I can clean houses anywhere and Memphi has fisheries, too. Not ones we own, but these ones here? We can rent those out to other people for good money.

    ¡°Those are the options.¡±

    Silence.

    Give up the family fishery?

    The family house?

    Mark loved this house¡ª

    Dad said, ¡°Or Mark could become a brawny.¡±

    ¡°Gotta say,¡± Mark admitted, ¡°Brawny is looking good right now. I¡­ I love this house.¡±

    It was a two story house with 10 rooms and four bathrooms that had been in the family for three generations so far, and Mark was looking forward to making it four. He didn¡¯t know who he was going to find and love, and honestly the entire idea of being with another person just did not interest him, but he knew he wanted to raise kids of his own in this very same house. You know¡­ theoretically.

    Today was a big day of decisions, and Mark did not like it at all.

    Mom said, ¡°I¡¯m laying out all the options. I want you to be happy, Mark.¡± She smiled, saying, ¡°I¡¯m already happy as long as I have you two boys with me. That¡¯s all I care about.¡±

    Dad smiled wide.

    Mark had nothing else to say about anything.

    They ate dinner in silence, and in thought. Mark was fine with the lack of conversation. He had a lot to think about already.

    And then Dad leaned over and kissed Mom on the cheek, and Mark looked away, ignoring whatever small words Mom was whispering to Dad.

    Mark was glad he had chosen to live on the other side of the house. That was one of the first things he had done once he was old enough to recognize the noises his parents made at night.

    Being far away from Mom and Dad¡¯s rooms made it easier to sneak out of the house, too.

 002

    Mark sipped his beer, staring off into the waters far, far beyond the low walls of Orange City. The ocean beyond the walls shimmered with silver moonlight, the many islands of the Floridas looking like black marks upon the waters. Mark wanted to be there. Out there, among the empty places. He wanted to be everywhere except stuck behind these walls of humanity, where he was protected.

    He wanted to do the protecting.

    He did not want to be a brawny.

    At least Sally was right there with him.

    Sally sipped her beer, saying, ¡°I think I¡¯m going for it. Brawny.¡±

    Mark raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really?¡±

    She had gotten ¡®brawny¡¯, too. Most everyone did. Mark had hoped that she would have gotten something special, and she had hoped the same for him, but both of them ended up on the same track in life.

    Sally said, ¡°It¡¯s also the bare minimum to be able to walk into the hero side of town, so yeah. I want to be out there, and that¡¯s how I¡¯m going to get out there.¡±

    ¡°¡­ yeah,¡± Mark said, nodding as he stared at his beer, like he was staring down the barrel of a rifle.

    And then Mark stared at the world ahead, knowing that he¡¯d never get to go out there as a basic human. Even partial mages like Mom and Dad weren¡¯t given all-world-access, so if Mark went the arcanaeum-one-year route, he¡¯d still have to do... something else? He wasn¡¯t sure. Go the full 4 years and get actual-mage accreditation? Shit. Probably have to sign up with a god in the Chosen System, too.

    Dammit.

    Maybe he should just be brawny, too.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Mark softly said, ¡°Maybe brawny isn¡¯t so bad.¡±

    Sally smiled wide, flashing her brilliant white teeth in the moonlight. Her golden hair shimmered as she took a sip of her own beer. She was beautiful, and she was a complete lesbian, so it was actually pretty good that Mark felt nothing for her besides as a best friend. Mark was pretty sure he was asexual himself. He still noticed beautiful people of all genders, but not really.

    Sally confided, ¡°It¡¯s kinda terrible of me, but I¡¯m glad you got brawny, too.¡±

    Mark burst out laughing. ¡°What! You wouldn¡¯t have wanted something good for me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I did say that earlier, but. You know. I¡¯d have been insanely jealous.¡±

    Mark chuckled.

    Sally smiled.

    Mark confided, ¡°I¡¯m glad we got the same offer.¡±

    Sally smiled wide. ¡°We can be brawnies together. You can be my wingman, and I can be your wing girl, and maybe we can have little houses next to each other and our kids can be friends. Not in Gladegrove, though. Fuck this tiny town!¡±

    Mark chuckled at that. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Gladegrove!¡±

    ¡°Oh please. You don¡¯t like it here anymore than I do. Besides! I can¡¯t find a girl in this town! I¡¯ve tried.¡±

    ¡°Oh please yourself. Trying to land a girl takes some guys years and years.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but boys are icky, so that makes sense!¡±

    Mark laughed, and then he pretended to be offended for his entire gender, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with boys?¡±

    ¡°What? You found one you liked?¡± Sally asked, teasing.

    Sally had been making a ¡®joke¡¯ like that ever since she told him she was gay 5 years ago, when they were both 12, and Mark had been kinda ambivalent about the whole idea of girls. Mark had a usual response to that sort of joke, though.

    Mark smiled and thought of the guys he had seen lately, picking one. ¡°Have you seen Adam after practice? Those arms of his are great.¡±

    Sally laughed.

    Mark smiled.

    And then Sally sighed. ¡°Shit, man, this kinda sucks. I was hoping for anything but brawny.¡±

    ¡°You got a 7% chance at a martial variant. 3% at defender. That¡¯s pretty good odds.¡±

    Sally countered, ¡°Your own 4% speedster is¡­ Okay I can¡¯t lie that much. Sorry. 4% sucks.¡±

    Mark chuckled.

    His chuckle faded fast.

    He had a 4% for speedster. 1% for some unknown Knack. Knacks were shit. They were ¡®know where a book is in a library¡¯, or ¡®be able to play cards really well¡¯, or stuff like that. People with knacks were relegated to civilian status just like all the baselines.

    For a while, neither of them spoke. Both of them just stared out at the night sky, at the islands beyond the wall, and at the shining light of the moon upon the waters. It was a beautiful night. The moon was looking particularly sparkly tonight, too; all the golden light in all the cracks spilling out into the darkness.

    Sally said, ¡°I wanted to be able to stand on the front lines under my own power.¡±

    Mark commiserated, ¡°Not many brawnies can do that.¡±

    ¡°Barely any at all! And I know I didn¡¯t get True Brawn. I¡¯m not that lucky.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Back-line support for us.¡±

    ¡°The most basic of back-line support.¡±

    Mark sarcastically said, ¡°And not even good support. ¡®Carry this here!¡¯ ¡®Carry that there!¡¯¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°You gotta carry stuff if you¡¯re going to keep any sort of proper musculature. Gotta go to those special gyms, too, or else you waste away to a skinny brawny.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°At least you¡¯re healthy!¡±

    Sally laughed. ¡°So very healthy!¡±

    ¡°I wish I had real numbers. Real stuff to go on. Real ways to plan.¡±

    Sally frowned at the air. ¡°Curtain Protocol.¡± She fell to silence.

    Mark finished off his beer and sat there, just thinking.

    Sally did the same. ¡°So yeah. I¡¯m doing the brawny thing anyway. Even if it is bad. How about you?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I like Dad¡¯s telekinesis thing. He can¡¯t mana baptize me, or whatever it is they do, but an arcanaeum could. Just gotta go for a year, and then I can fish pull right alongside him¡­¡± Mark stared out at the shimmering waters of the Floridas. ¡°Grandpa would have liked that.¡±

    Grandpa would have preferred hydrokinesis, but he had always loved Dad¡¯s fish-pull in a unique sort of way.

    Sally asked, ¡°Your dad ever let slip why he can¡¯t do a normal telekinesis?¡±

    Mark shrugged. ¡°No. They don¡¯t talk about that stuff, not for real.¡±

    And Mark wasn¡¯t about to spread rumors of magic, either. He wasn¡¯t going to ¡®injure¡¯ Sally in that way. Curtain Protocol was very real.

    He certainly had his guesses, though. Dad had used his telekinesis too much against fish and the power mutated to only let him use it against fish. Arcanaeum-granted spells were like that; they mutated some times. It was the same problem Mom had with her cleanse. She used it in too many different situations, and now it only functioned to keep water clean.

    Sally didn¡¯t expect, or want an answer, anyway. She was just nervous, just like Mark.

    Sally looked out across the dark world, saying, ¡°I think I would have liked a real kineticist power. Any of them would be good. I don¡¯t think I could ever do the mage-thing. But the kineticist thing? Sign me up.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I should do telekinesis.¡± Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s generic kineticism, so it¡¯s less powerful overall, but it¡¯s still good.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if you had the actual telekinesis Talent I¡¯d agree with you, but just the spell? It¡¯s weak.¡±

    That was true. Spells imprinted on the soul were weak compared to real Awakened power. And yet...

    Mark said, ¡°Dad¡¯s magic is¡­ Okay. You know what they call 1-year-arcanaeum mages over on Daihoon? ¡®Halfers¡¯, if they¡¯re being generous. ¡®Quarters¡¯ if they¡¯re being more honest.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Not even half a real Talent.¡±

    Mark added, ¡°Not even a quarter, most of the time.¡±

    More silence.

    The air smelled of salt, even all the way up here on this bare building overlooking the ocean. Bugs buzzed in the trees and in the dark. Mark stared at the world beyond the Wall that he would never get to see in person, and Sally was right there with him.

    Sally sighed. ¡°I want to see Daihoon.¡± Sally asked, ¡°If we both become brawnies, you want to go travel to the Other Earth with me? As a team we might be able to swing a gate pass.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d need to find a healer and a ranger.¡± Mark said, ¡°They wouldn¡¯t give two brawnies a gate pass.¡±

    Minutes passed in silence.

    Sally stared at the moon, and Mark stared at the moon right with her. The city of Arakino on the moon was rather active tonight. 100 years ago the only light on the Luna was the reflected light of the sun. But then the Veil broke, and then Arakino stood revealed. It had been a broken city back then, but humanity ¡ªmostly the God AI Malaqua and the Stone Church¡ª had rebuilt a lot of the under-surface and overworld up there. Glittering silver roads shimmered on the sunward side of Luna while golden lights glowed in the shadows, in the cracks, like ever-sparkling fireworks.

    It was magical.

    Sally asked, ¡°How about the Chosen system?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m thinking about that, too. Freyala for healing.¡±

    ¡°I might go for Drakarok.¡±

    Mark breathed deep. ¡°¡­ The god of war and assassination?¡±

    ¡°And the killer of monsters. No one messes with a Drakarok priest. I could even get war-healing; inflict wounds and get healed and heal others, too.¡±

    Mark went with it, saying, ¡°You¡¯d have to be a pretty awesome priest of Drakarok to get that one.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You don¡¯t think I¡¯m awesome?¡±

    ¡°You could work on your footwork some more.¡±

    Sally laughed, and then she sighed, saying, ¡°Yeah. I probably could.¡±

    Mark went silent for a long while.

    Sally was about to say something, but she yawned suddenly.

    Mark grinned at that. ¡°I guess it is getting late.¡±

    Sally nodded, unable to say anything through another yawn.

    Mark chuckled, but he held back his own yawn, saying, ¡°You¡¯re going to make me tired now, too!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m exhausted! I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re not tired.¡±

    ¡°I want to see the sky whales. They should have been here by now, and yet the sky is still empty.¡± Mark checked his phone. The illumination of the screen brightened Sally and Mark¡¯s dark little corner of the world with a warning yellow glow. ¡®NON-AGGRESSIVE KAIJU IN THE AREA.¡¯ Mark checked the radar. All he saw was¡­ an empty sky. ¡°They should be here. Kaiju watch is still on.¡± He turned off the screen and shoved the phone back in his pocket as he looked up, asking, ¡°Where are they?¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m done waiting.¡± Sally got up, saying, ¡°They probably got diverted.¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡± Mark got up, too.

    The two of them had been at the top of a paintball site, at the top of an old construction project. The place looked abandoned, but it wasn¡¯t abandoned at all. It was closed at night, though; especially at this hour.

    The two of them walked down the dark stairs, through the bowels of the paintball range. It was made to look abandoned. Dangerous. It wasn¡¯t really that way at all. It still looked creepy, though, with the lack of light and with walls splattered in all colors, a lot of them looking like blood.

    They reached the bottom and Sally headed left, headed home in the dark. She only lived a minute away from the paintball range, and the two of them had been walking in the dark in Gladegrove since they were both ten. Even though they were close to the city wall, there was no danger of there being monsters in the dark. Maybe some gators in the ponds here and there, but no monsters.

    Mark lived a bit further away from here than Sally, and in the other direction, but he had taken his bike, so he hopped on that and was soon sailing down mostly-empty streets. He took a detour into the woods to get around a guard station at a major intersection up ahead. He didn¡¯t want to deal with guards asking him why he was out at midnight, and they didn¡¯t want to bother giving him the 50-questions. It was a hassle if they caught kids out after curfew, so they had told him, years ago, to not get caught. If they didn¡¯t see him, then they didn¡¯t need to talk to him.

    Mark hopped back on the main street after he passed the station and headed home.

    As he was putting the bike away in the garage, the rear tire popped.

    It just¡­

    Popped!

    Just like that!

    Mark stared at the popped tire.

    He found himself weirdly furious at every single damned fucking thing in life and he took his bike, lifting it high before he smashed it onto the ground. Plastic shattered. A pedal went that way. The chain broke. Mark stood over the wreckage, feeling empty.

    ¡°¡­ Fuck. Why did I do that?¡±

    He left it there, for the morning.

    ¡­ And then he went back down to the garage and tried to fix what he had broken, cursing at himself for breaking it like he had. It was his only real form of transportation. He got as far with the fix as he could, replacing the parts of the chain that had burst, and unbending the wheel. It was kinda just fucked up, though. By the time he got around to putting new tubes in the tires it was almost 3 am, and it was as good as it was going to get.

    Mark went to bed exhausted.

 003

    Mark woke up feeling drained, but he was okay. He could do 3-hours-of-sleep nights every now and then.

    In the kitchen, one of the stories on the television was about the missing sky whales. Orange City had needed to divert them hard since they were coming straight for the city instead of to the side, like usual.

    Dad was making pancakes as he watched the news on the kitchen screen. ¡°Well that¡¯s a shame.¡±

    Mom looked up from paperwork. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°No sky whales,¡± Dad said. ¡°I bet a lot of people were out last night trying to see them.¡±

    Mom smirked at Dad, saying, ¡°I remember how you and I used to go sky whale watching.¡±

    Mark focused on his math homework. He was still in high school and he still had homework, even if the last year was always filled with kids prepping for the Tutorial, like him, who had a much-decreased workload compared to everyone else. Life still went on past the Tutorial, though, and grades still needed to be up high enough to graduate.

    But if Mark would have gotten a superhero rating in the False Tutorial then he would have abandoned high school completely and filed for a GED later. That¡¯s what all the real heroes did.

    Brawnies still got math classes.

    ¡­ Maybe he should really go for mage. Like Mom and Dad. That would require a true commitment, though, which meant¡­ Well. What did it mean? Funneling all his money into arcanaeum? Get a job and spend years paying for school? Mark wasn¡¯t sure, actually.

    ¡°Mom? Dad?¡± Mark asked, ¡°How much is a real mage education? Like, actual accreditation? The full four years. The kind of education that would let me walk anywhere in any city in the world¡ª except for the noble districts of Daihoon, I guess.¡±

    Both his parents looked at him, their eyes going wide.

    And then they looked at each other.

    A moment passed.

    Mom started with, ¡°It¡¯s a hundred thousand goldleaf per year at Orange Arcanaeum. That price is set by the citystate. It¡¯s more like 425,000 for four years because of incidentals. The actual price is 350,000 per year, but the citystate pays that, and only because that¡¯s what it costs to get a real mage to teach real magic to a lot of people. Almost no one pays full price, though, because there are scholarships everywhere. If you want to take a full-scan from the arcanaeum to determine what magics you might have affinity toward then you might be able to get scholarships in those directions.¡± Mom said, ¡°But even before all of that¡­ The second you burn your first spell into your mana veins¡­ When you get your first magic you¡¯re no longer eligible for the True Awakening of the Tutorial.¡±

    Dad said, ¡°You can put off the Tutorial indefinitely if you don¡¯t learn magic. That¡¯s why they don¡¯t allow mage-learning outside of the arcanaeums; so kids can have the Tutorial option when they turn 18. There are lots of places where Curtain Protocol still exists long after 18, like here in Gladegrove. Most residential places in the ECU are fully Protocol¡¯d.¡±

    ¡°But if you want real mage learning then we¡¯d have to sell the house and probably the fishery to afford it, but...¡± Mom said, ¡°Your father and I talked about that¡­ and...¡±

    Dad said, ¡°And we decided last night that we won¡¯t do that. You¡¯re going to have to get loans. The easiest loan is a 4-year semi-servitude to an accredited mage. It¡¯s a common arrangement. You work your magics at their discretion and you get paid for it, but you would have to move and live with them wherever. Maybe even on Daihoon.¡±

    ¡°Or you could get loans from the citystate, and go into the wall guard!¡± Mom said, ¡°That¡¯s more common than the mage service option.¡±

    Dad spilled more ideas out there, ¡°Or you could get a normal job and save up and go to arcanaeum later. Years later. It would take a few years of saving to get there, and you¡¯d still have to take out loans, but you can do that. You could even take 10 years to do 4 years of classwork, working all the while, and live in a place like Gladegrove here.¡± Dad said, ¡°That¡¯s the long-term option, but it¡¯s better than having 25 years of loan payments.¡±

    Mom eagerly added, ¡°Or you could go to university, for free, and get a common education and become a lawyer or some other high-paying job and outright pay for arcanaeum in your 30¡¯s! That¡¯s a great option, too. And then you can be a lawyer mage, and become one of those people who work with demons and make the real money.¡±

    Okay.

    That was A Lot.

    Mark¡¯s head was spinning.

    He had never put too much thought into magery, but his parents had. A lot of thought.

    And then Dad added another option, ¡°Or there¡¯s the Chosen System, and you can do the god-thing. I hear at the lower tiers it''s basically standard hero stuff; report for duty a weekend every month sort of thing. Keep a temple clean while living in accordance with the god¡¯s ideals. Some low level powers are even available to those who live under Curtain protocol, so you could take some power and responsibility and still have the Tutorial open for you later.¡±

    ¡°Freyala is all about healing and protection and if you go for her you only need to work 5 days a month at the local hospital.¡± Mom said, ¡°And then you get healing magic. I know you want healing magic! She¡¯s the best way to get that.¡±

    Dad eagerly said, ¡°And with healing magic you can be almost as physically strong as a weak brawny, but you gotta work hard for that muscle and height and everything and heal yourself up all the time.¡±

    Mark smelled smoke.

    ¡°The pancake is burning,¡± Mark said, wonderfully thankful for the distraction.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Mom and Dad had just thrown out a mountain of information to mull over, and Mark¡­ Mark would have to take some time to think about all that.

    Dad rapidly reoriented back to the stove to flip the pancake. It was mostly black on one side. ¡°That one can be mine.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°So? Uh. Let¡¯s go back... Uh¡­ Lawyer Mage? I, uh, like money, I think? But demons.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near demons, and yet, all of the truly powerful people in the world used demons. Archmages were famously contracted to demons. That¡¯s how they got all their archmagery powers.

    Mom said, ¡°Demons are incredibly dangerous, but they¡¯re what allow us to survive the dangers of mana.¡±

    Dad added, ¡°They¡¯re what cause all of the major dangers of mana, too.¡±

    ¡°Well yes, Markus,¡± Mom said, to Dad, ¡°But that¡¯s a far off thing anyway, and¡­¡±

    Mark tried to pay attention, and he mostly did. He was a pretty good learner. But this was not learning; it was decision making, and all the paths open to him were so very wide.

    None of them were what he actually wanted.

    - - - -

    A few days later, during dinner, Mark made a decision that was not fully thought out.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to go into debt or sell anything or do the Chosen thing¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°Not fully, anyway. But... I could work to save up, right? For real mage accreditation, I mean?¡± He looked to his parents. ¡°¡­ Is it really okay to take 10 years to do 4 years of learning?¡±

    He¡¯d have to live under Curtain Protocol, but that was pretty normal for most people. He couldn¡¯t go to the Hero Quarter or out beyond the walls¡­ Not for a while, anyway. But was that really okay? Was that really an option?

    ¡°Absolutely!¡± Mom said, struggling to not be too happy.

    Dad said, ¡°It¡¯s a great idea!¡±

    Mark felt a little bit better about everything.

    Yeah.

    Okay.

    This could work.

    Dad added, ¡°And winter break is coming up, right? Want to go visit Orange Arcanaeum? We can pay for a year for sure, and maybe you can get a scholarship, too, but you should expect to pay for 3 years on your own, son.¡±

    Mark breathed deep. Here was the moment of truth, though. He asked, ¡°We can¡­ We can really do this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be tough,¡± Mom said, and then she paused, not sure how to say whatever else she needed to say.

    Dad said, ¡°Now son, you don¡¯t have to do this, but you could quit rugby and all of your Tutorial training and even quit school to take the GED and graduate next month. You¡¯re smart enough. You can cram for the test and just get it done, because as soon as you get your GED you¡¯re eligible for Basic Income. With that in your pocket, then you can start looking for a job before all your friends do. A lot of kids are going to graduate from high school in six months, and you could get the drop on them.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t have to miss out on high school,¡± Mom said, firmly. ¡°That is absolutely not what we¡¯re saying. It is an option, though, to get more money now for less hardship later.¡±

    The world felt smaller.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡­ hadn¡¯t thought about that.¡±

    ¡°Just think about it,¡± Dad said. ¡°Anyway. Winter Break is coming up in a week or two, right? We can get you an arcanaeum full-scan and see your latent mana dispositions. If you get a good one you could get a scholarship and an even better Basic Income if Orange City wants you to stay here. Any inclination toward mancers of any kind, kineticists, anything at all that isn¡¯t brawny, and you could get money.¡± Dad added, ¡°Spellwork isn¡¯t as good as inborn-power, but if you end up with anything telekinetic-based then you might be able to be a halfer instead of a quarter like me. Either way, you can stack a lot more spells into a person than you can Talents.¡±

    Mom happily added, ¡°Maybe even multiple spells!¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°I want that; yes. Let¡¯s do that.¡±

    - - - -

    Two weeks passed in a breeze.

    Christmas day was all string lights on the cabbage palms and fake snow sprayed on the windows and a whole lot of food. Mom, Dad, Devon and Trace from the Fishery and their families, and Mark, celebrated the holiday in their big house. There wasn¡¯t much under the tree because the family was already trying to save money in preparation for Mark going to arcanaeum, but there were a few gifts.

    Mom and Dad got him a new bike. He had needed one and his repairs on the old one were falling apart. Mark hadn¡¯t asked them for a new bike at all, but here it was anyway, and this one was made of composite steel. It would take a monster to break it, or maybe just a brawny, and it weighed 2 kilos. It was light.

    It was too expensive.

    ¡°It¡¯s too expensive,¡± Mark said, later, when it was just the three of them.

    He was still embarrassed that he had broken his bike. He had taken care of that bike for 5 years. He still couldn¡¯t believe he had smashed it like some uncontrolled¡­ Well. Brawny.

    ¡°It¡¯s not too expensive, honey,¡± Mom said. ¡°And besides! You need a good one for getting around a campus full of mages.¡±

    Dad smiled, saying, ¡°Those guys like to be bastards to us Basic Income people, so they¡¯ll probably break it anyway.¡±

    Mom scoffed at him. ¡°That¡¯s just on TV shows¡­¡± And then she said to Mark, ¡°But take care not to get on anyone¡¯s bad side.¡±

    Mark felt his chest tighten. He said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    They hugged.

    Mom put her head on Mark¡¯s chest, holding him tight, saying, ¡°You¡¯ve gotten so big, honey.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°I¡¯m still shorter than Dad!¡±

    ¡°I meant¡­¡± Mom teared up. ¡°You know what I mean.¡± She looked up at him, and her next words were choked off by a happy little cry. She hugged him again, tighter, murmuring, ¡°You¡¯re going to do great at arcanaeum. I just know it.¡±

    Dad wiped away a manly tear, saying, ¡°You¡¯ve gotten so tall, son.¡±

    Mark was only 5¡¯7¡±, directly between Mom and Dad, so Mark joked back, ¡°Maybe you two are shrinking.¡±

    Mom laughed. Dad smiled.

    The next day Mark and Dad went to the tram station. They hopped on a graffiti-marked tram and rode all the way into the city, and then further north, to Orange Arcanaeum.

 004

    Orange Arcanaeum was an homage to another world that never existed, seen through the lens of mages from Daihoon who had researched ancient texts that may have been more fiction than reality, and done up using modern-Earth building techniques.

    It was all concrete towers the width of coliseums and a little bit taller than that, with major structures made of 10-foot-thick walls of solid stone. There was probably magic inside all of that construction, too, but Mark didn''t really know.

    Thick barrier walls surrounded the entire place, 100-foot thick at the base and a fraction of that width at the top, with the exterior surface like a cliff and the interior like a steep hill. This was to keep the monsters outside, but to allow people to escape the inside in the case of an emergency.

    Here and there around the tops of buildings inside the walls of the arcanaeum, and on some of the coliseums themselves, jutting out from the sides, were twists of stone like mid-air bridges, ending in open spaces. Those were mage platforms.

    Mages would gather at the ends of those juts of stone up there, with the open spaces in front of them, all in order to link their powers and cast great swaths of destruction upon whatever might be outside the walls, or attacking from the air. With lines of exploding light, they would cut down monster hordes¡­ though not really. Sure; that worked. This place was built in that sort of style. But kaiju erased all defenses so this kind of architecture wasn¡¯t even the style over on Daihoon. It was ¡®end-times castle¡¯ style, and it was mostly mythical, rather than realistic. Actual city walls were still straight up-and-down things, wide as a city block, and twice as tall. More minor mountains than ¡®wall¡¯.

    The walls of the real city were far away from this place.

    If there were places like this that existed for real over on Daihoon, then Mark didn¡¯t know of them. According to what Mark knew, modern day defense on Daihoon (meaning the last 1000 years, of course) was all about roving bands of elites, actively going out and ending threats before they were found. Modern day Daihoon cities ¡ªeven as ¡®modern¡¯ as 100 years ago¡ª were more like New Tokyo or Buenos Piedra; defenses pushed out a hundred kilometers away from the main cities.

    When the Veil broke and the worlds of Daihoon and Earth were once again joined 80 years ago, there was an information and assistance exchange. Nuclear bombs went from Earth to Daihoon to help them clear out the big threats of Daihoon, the ones that constantly threatened to ruin their world. Nuclear bombs were widely deployed here on Earth, too. Thanks to the mages, the usual nuclear fallout that would have ruined both worlds was instead cleansed away.

    Soon, people were in control once again. There was turmoil, of course. But then the New Gods arose. Those gods and the reestablishing of the System on the moon were what really allowed humanity to retake land, and then keep it.

    The archmages and the army generals and especially the superheros of Crystal Tower did a lot of the big work, but every day mages and warriors were the ones who did most of the work to keep the world safe. Most problems were better solved without nuclear weapons.

    Mark wanted to be one of those people, on the front lines, making the world safer. He wanted to be one of the powerful, who could go anywhere and never be in danger and help others in his presence.

    But for now he was stuck in the waiting area of Orange Arcanaeum, looking out the window at the lands beyond, waiting for their appointment to come due. He stared at the Arcanaeum and looked at all the people to pass the time. Dad passed the time reading a novel on his phone.

    Orange Arcanaeum was absolutely filled with students walking between coliseums and chatting with each other. All the students wore little orange shoulder capes over their blue school uniforms. Professors wore grey shoulder capes and ties and tweed, or full grey robes. Mark only saw two professors walking around. No one in black robes at all; no archmages out in the open. Of course there wouldn¡¯t be any archmages here, though. That¡¯d be nuts.

    ¡­ Still would be nice to see one. It¡¯d be like seeing Red Thunder or Mistress Storm flying in person, but weirder, because archmages were rarer than superheroes. Which archmage could Mark even hope to see?

    ¡­ He wasn¡¯t quite sure. There were a few, right? Erketu was the most famous one. The ¡®technoarchmage¡¯. He worked mostly with City AIs, though. He was a Crystal Tower ¡®native¡¯, too, and that was all the way over in Japan, so he probably wouldn¡¯t be here.

    Mark sighed and turned back to sit in his chair.

    He read the warning sign up ahead for the tenth time.

    ¡®WARNING: For those who have not foregone the Tutorial, Orange Arcanaeum is OUTSIDE OF CURTAIN PROTOCOL. Beware your curious eyes and ears, lest you burn your mana channels and thus be ineligible for the Tutorial. WARNING: Do not study magic if you plan on taking the Tutorial.¡¯

    The signs were etched into the stone walls and painted red. They were permanent warnings; not something that could be easily taken down and changed. Mark was pretty sure that some mage could change them. A stone-kinetic, probably. Not most mages.

    ¡­ Mark was 80% sure of that.

    ¡­ 25% sure.

    Not too sure at all, actually.

    He didn¡¯t know how magic worked, and that was by design. There were prohibitions about sharing magical knowledge absolutely everywhere. Curtain Protocol is what it was called. That was one of the reasons that baselines couldn¡¯t go into hero towns, or anywhere on Daihoon. Not without specific clearances from the local governments, anyway.

    And then there was Dad. Dad was ¡ªand Mark loved him anyway¡ª kinda bad at magic, and he purposefully never talked about it at all aside from saying ¡®I have bad habits so don¡¯t watch what I do at all¡¯. Mark always thought he had been bad on purpose, but as he grew up Mark lost that naivety. Dad¡¯s Telekinesis was definitely more of a ¡®fish-pull¡¯, while Mom¡¯s Cleanse was a ¡®clean this water¡¯ or, when she really pushed herself, a ¡®40% dust cleaner¡¯¡ª

    ¡°What ya thinking about?¡± Dad asked, softly smiling as he looked at Mark.

    ¡°I¡¯m annoyed at Curtain Protocol.¡±

    Dad nodded. ¡°I was that way, too. Trust me, though; it¡¯s for a good reason. You either want to be a brawny, or an arcanaeum-trained mage. Tiny Knacks are not going to save you from a monster break.¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah¡­¡± Mark admitted, ¡°I wonder sometimes if you¡¯ve been hiding your True Power from me for my entire life.¡±

    Dad laughed. ¡°Nope! Your mother and I never got far with our studies and¡ª¡±

    The door opened to the side of the waiting room and a woman stepped out. She wore a grey half-robe, and she called out, ¡°Mark Careed. Markus Careed.¡±

    Mark was already up and out of his chair, feeling nervous. It was kinda odd that the Full Scan process would want to scan both him and Dad, but Dad had shrugged when that¡¯s how they told him it was going to happen, and Mark just accepted it.

    And now Mark was going to get tested.

    Hopefully the scan found something good. A scholarship would be just about the only way he could afford this place without taking out some major loans or signing his life away for 5 years, or putting his mage training on hold until he was 30 and had saved up for a decade. He absolutely did not want to do that. Curtain Protocol till he was 30? No thank you!

    The teacher of some sort smiled at him, saying, ¡°Right this way, please.¡±

    - - - -

    The walk was short and ended in a large chamber that was sort of like an x-ray room, but without the x-ray machine. Instead, there were some metal plates on the ceiling and floor over there, a wall with a window that separated the room in half, and with a bunch of equipment sitting behind the wall.

    An archmage stood beside the window.

    Mark was too stunned to do much except for look at the guy, because archmages were the literal defenders of the world.

    There shouldn¡¯t be one here.

    Mark was absolutely sure he knew the guy¡¯s name, but it escaped him at the moment.

    The guy was young-old and in a black suit with a black-and-gold-trimed half-cape. He looked almost like a superhero, and Mark didn¡¯t know how else to think of him other than in that way. He had salt-and-pepper short hair and a trimmed beard with no lines on his face, but he wasn¡¯t young at all. Ageless, maybe. Or maybe he was just a well-kept 65 year old guy with a lot of work done. But no. Archmages were beyond age. They were contracted to demons and his demon made him as old as the demon wanted him to be. This guy could have been 50 for the last 500 years.

    He might have been there to help drop nukes on the big monsters during the Reveal.

    What the FUCK was he doing here?

    Mark wasn¡¯t the only one stunned to see the archmage. Dad was kinda stunned, too.

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    The woman who led them here smiled and walked toward an archway where a control room sat behind some thick glass. She said nothing.

    The archmage spoke, ¡°Hello, Mark Careed, and Markus Careed. We¡¯ll be scanning your father first, Mark, in order to determine if his magic has limited or enhanced you in any way. You can step back. Behind the wall in the control room, if you could. Mister Careed? Please step onto the scanner.¡±

    Dad was stunned for a moment still, but he just nodded and walked over there, touching Mark¡¯s shoulder briefly, saying, ¡°I guess this is how they do it now.¡±

    Mark went behind the wall of the control room.

    The archmage said, ¡°Sometimes magics cast around the young have a way of passing onto them in ways that a trip through a normal Awakening would simply obliterate, and which can only be brought forth through actual effort. That is what this big scanner tests for. If Mark had come alone, then we would have had less of a chance to see what miracles he might contain.¡±

    As the archmage spoke, Dad made it to the center of the 10 foot wide silver platform, onto a small circle in the center. Dad stood there. The archmage nodded.

    A light flashed.

    ¡°That¡¯s that,¡± the archmage said, ¡°You can step off, Mister Careed.¡±

    Dad looked around for a half moment, then he stepped off of the platform, saying, ¡°That was fast.¡±

    ¡°Quite fast, and painless,¡± the archmage said, smiling, ¡°We only had to go through a few tens of human trials to stop people from turning inside out. You can get on the platform now, Mark.¡±

    Mark halted, one step toward the machine.

    Dad and Mark both stared at the archmage.

    The archmage smiled, chuckling, ¡°They still have humor here on Earth, yes?¡±

    Dad chuckled nervously.

    Mark¡­ hesitated.

    The archmage assured Mark, ¡°It¡¯s perfectly fine, Mark. This sort of magic has been perfected for a thousand years. Updating it to modern tech took some doing, but the tech-version works even better than the old stuff.¡±

    Mark felt his ears burn and his face heat with embarrassment. Had he really thought that the archmage had been talking about human experimentation? Mark rapidly moved onto the platform, saying, ¡°Sorry, sir.¡±

    The archmage smiled softly. ¡°No worries, kid. Good luck on getting something useful.¡±

    Mark steeled himself and stepped onto the center of the platform into the circle engraved on the silver. He looked up. Small variations in the metal looked like symbols made in different grains in the silver, appearing briefly as iridescent sheens. The same sorts of magic runes, or whatever, held on the ground, all around him¡ª

    The entire formation lit up above and below¡ª

    Mark held in an abyss of white.

    ¡ªand the light retreated. Mark once again stood in the center of the platform, but the iridescent circles and words and flows all around him were gone. Mark looked for the markings in the silver, trying to move his head a little this way or that, trying to see¡ª

    The archmage said, ¡°You can step off, Mark.¡±

    Mark took some steps toward the edge of the platform, looking around all the while, trying to see anything¡­ But there was nothing. What had he seen? Whatever the case, the scan was done. Mark stood a few yards from the archmage¡ª

    Oh. Shit.

    He was really getting his readout now, wasn¡¯t he?

    In the flashing lights of the moment and in the presence of the archmage, Mark had completely forgotten that he was here to get another sort of life-changing declaration. The archmage had a piece of paper in his hands, too. When had he gotten that paper? Mark had no idea. But Mark saw the paper and his gaze locked onto that.

    The archmage read the paper, saying, ¡°You have an average readout.¡±

    Mark¡¯s hopes fell.

    The archmage continued to stomp on Mark¡¯s soul, ¡°No more than 5% deviance for any particular magic. A standard scholarship demands at least 15%. You can¡¯t really change this with anything short of massive emotional trauma, and we don¡¯t like to do that to anyone anymore. Now that wasn¡¯t a joke. That¡¯s how it used to be done, back before Integration. Give a kid a puppy to raise and then make them love it and then make them kill it in specific ways; a standard method. That¡¯s what I went through. Of course all of that is pretty much overkill. You could achieve the same thing by dropping a kid into the wilderness and letting them try to survive the monsters.¡± He handed over the report, saying, ¡°Sorry, kid.¡±

    Mark took the paperwork, his voice a fragile thing as he said, ¡°Thanks, mister archmage.¡±

    The archmage never moved from where he stood, he just nodded.

    In a daze, Mark followed the woman out of there, out a different door.

    Dad touched Mark¡¯s shoulders and hugged him and said some words, and Mark made some sort of response, but he didn¡¯t remember what he said. He didn¡¯t know what his dad had said, either. It wasn¡¯t until he was back on the tram, headed home that Mark regained something of himself.

    Mark said, ¡°So that went horribly.¡±

    Dad put an arm around Mark¡¯s shoulders.

    Mark sighed, and then he made himself smile, and it actually felt like a real smile for a brief moment. ¡°I guess I¡¯m too well-adjusted. Not enough trauma! It¡¯s all your and Mom¡¯s faults.¡±

    Dad¡¯s worried face broke into a wide smile. He laughed, and then grabbed Mark fully around the shoulders, hugging him, saying, ¡°Archmage-level proof that we raised you right! Your mother ain¡¯t gonna believe it!¡±

    ¡°Not going to believe it?¡± Mark asked, laughing. ¡°What¡¯s that mean!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you on the rugby field, young man,¡± Dad hugged tighter, saying, ¡°You¡¯re vicious out there.¡±

    Mark smiled at that, and then he let go of his Dad. A moment of calm happened. After that moment, he whispered, ¡°No trauma in this household.¡±

    Dad went silent. Mark looked up at him, and saw him wipe away quick tears. And then Dad hugged him again, holding him tight, saying, ¡°I hope that never changes.¡±

    ¡°Me, too,¡± Mark said, holding his dad.

    And yet, for some stupid reason, he wished for something exciting. Mark scowled at himself the very second he had that thought, for having such a stupid thought. And yet¡­

    No.

    Mark would not try to sneak out of the wall and fight some monsters, for real. That was just asking to die.

    Mark pulled away from his dad, changing the subject, ¡°Who was that archmage, anyway?¡±

    Dad sniffled a little, hiding a tear, as he smiled and said, ¡°I got no idea! Check your phone? All the archmages are known.¡±

    Mark pulled out his phone and did exactly that. He found the guy fast enough.

    The archmage was ¡®Sloane Addashield¡¯, his demon¡¯s name was Kanda, and he was a metal archmage. Specifically, adamantium. Which. Ya know. Impressive. He used giant flying blades of that magical metal to slice apart mountain-sized monsters as he flew around them, dodging attacks. He was a true Hero of Humanity, and he was around 350 years old.

    He was also one of the normal archmages to be seen around Orange City, for he was based in Crytalis over on Daihoon, which was about where Mexico was located on Earth.

    Mark found himself saying, ¡°I knew I recognized him!¡±

    Dad read over his shoulder. ¡°Oh man. Me too. He is stronger than Red Thunder.¡±

    - - - -

    ¡°Archmage Sloane Addashield!¡± Mark proclaimed at dinner. ¡°He looked like a normal guy!¡±

    Dad said, ¡°He looked ageless, actually.¡±

    ¡°Ageless, yeah,¡± Mark said. ¡°That¡¯s the demons, right?¡±

    Mom dished out the potato salad, unimpressed by any mention of any archmage, saying, ¡°I¡¯m just glad we managed to raise you happy and healthy.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes.

    And then Mom asked, ¡°Are you going to go for mage training, anyway? Are you going to try for the GED and get a job, or what? What¡¯s happening here, Mark.¡±

    Mark was suddenly lost again. ¡°¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I...¡± He didn¡¯t know much right now, but he knew he wanted to keep playing rugby¡­ and going to school, he supposed? Maybe he would do the Tutorial and go for brawny? That was the cheapest option¡­ He said, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°You got time to think. You have time to make mistakes. Certain paths do diverge, though, like doing the Tutorial or getting mage-based magic. Your father and I are both happy with our magics, Mark. It is not a mistake to forgo the Tutorial. Most people forgo the Tutorial. 95% of people, in fact! I know you could do it, but¡­ It¡¯s still a¡­ A big risk.¡±

    People died all the time in the Tutorial.

    Mark had already had this conversation a lot with his parents, though. He had been planning on the Tutorial for a long time, and they hated that, but they couldn¡¯t stop him. Once that prompt came up, if Mark accepted it, then he was whisked away, and there wasn¡¯t a force on Earth or Daihoon that could stop it. Many people had tried over the years, and especially on Daihoon, where the thing-that-came-before-the-Tutorial used to take a person at age 12, and it took everyone, regardless of capability or personal choice. Over there, before the Reveal and the retaking of Arakino and the installation of the System and the ascension of the AI god Malaqua, 60% of people died at age 12, to the previous-Tutorial.

    Mom and Dad were terrified of the Tutorial, so they opted out of it, and fast, and they had been against Mark doing it his entire life. But Mark wanted actual power to live in the wider world, and that meant taking the Tutorial.

    Mom and Dad had mostly come to terms with that, and besides! Mark had passed the False Tutorial, and that was usually a lot harder than the real thing.

    The only thing that would stop Mark from taking the Tutorial was if he chose it for himself, and he kinda was, due to the brawny-thing. If the Full Scan would have worked out at all, maybe Mark would have picked that route if he would have gotten a scholarship, but holy fuck. Debt or years under Curtain Protocol or indentured servitude to a mage to learn real magic?

    Fuck no!

    And now Mark was back to needing to be convinced to go to arcanaeum.

    Mom tried to do that convincing, ¡°You could take a week off from school with your dad at the Fishery to see what it¡¯s like for simple halfers like us? Your father has fish-yank, but Devon and Trace are there as brawnies, too. You can see what life is like for all of them, on the job.¡±

    Mark had done that before with other people, with the guards on the walls and with working mages as a part of the school¡¯s extra credit systems. He already knew what life was like for a brawny, or a mage, or any of the other Awakened or powered people out there, and he even knew what Dad did at the fishery.

    But Mom was scared and Mark kinda needed to think for a while, anyway.

    ¡°Sure, Mom. I¡¯ll go fishing for a week?¡± Mark looked to Dad. ¡°Sounds like fun?¡±

    Dad smiled. ¡°I think it sounds great!¡±

 005

    Later, when they were on the docks and Mom wasn¡¯t around, Dad said, ¡°Thanks for doing this for your mom. I know you¡¯ve done all this before, but she¡¯s worried. She doesn¡¯t want you making life decisions based on the crushing realities of life.¡±

    Mark groaned.

    ¡°There are so many crushing realities,¡± Dad said, nodding in approval as Mark groaned, like it was some lighthearted thing.

    ¡­ Maybe it was some lighthearted thing?

    Mark didn¡¯t think so right now, though.

    Devon, a big brawny with a 3.5-times Awakening, hauled a net over his shoulder that weighed about 500 pounds, laughing as he walked by, saying, ¡°Little Marky is an old hand at this crushing work!¡±

    Trace, a smaller brawny with a 2.7-times Awakening, worked the machine that angled the ice crane over the ship¡¯s hold. With a simple button press, ice began to stream into the hold, rumbling loud, crashing. Trace called out over the noise, ¡°Bah! I¡¯d rather be in here than out there with the monsters. And the people ain¡¯t that great either!¡±

    Dad and Devon laughed. Mark did not.

    Trace smiled. ¡°Brawny is a good life!¡±

    Dad chuckled as he held up a handful of very strong, but rather small metal clips that were shaped like fish. With a deep breath, Dad kinetically lifted the fish into the air and grabbed onto the other net, picking the net up here and there while other metal fish pressed down into the docks, providing leverage. He lifted the second net onto the ship, counterbalancing himself with a few different metal plugs stuck here and there into fulcrum points.

    Mark didn¡¯t know exactly how kinetics worked, but he did know that Dad¡¯s fish-centered telekinesis was more like an extension of his body, using ¡®mana muscles¡¯ and ¡®mana bones¡¯, and Dad was more ¡®physically picking up the net¡¯ than he was magically moving stuff around.

    But that was just Mark¡¯s layman understanding of it all.

    Devon saw Mark looking at how Dad¡¯s fish-clips were indenting into the wooden dock, and laughed. ¡°Fish-pull is shit magic!¡± He kicked the net he had already moved into the ship, saying, ¡°It took me 20 seconds to load my weight, and now I¡¯m just waiting for your dad to pull his own weight!¡±

    Dad moved the net into the ship just fine, calling out, ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, Mark. Telekinesis is great!¡±

    ¡°Fish-pull!¡± Devon called out. And then Devon made a double bicep pose, showing off, saying, ¡°Look at this brawny power! All the ladies love it!¡±

    Trace chided him, ¡°You get more men looking at you at the gym than women.¡±

    Devon nodded seriously, saying, ¡°I have a following online and it pays some bills, for sure!¡±

    Dad smiled as he defended his power, ¡°I¡¯m the one that actually hauls in all the meat. All you do is look pretty and stand around waiting to club the overeager sharks.¡±

    Devon stood tall and proud, grabbing his club from where it was stowed on the ship¡¯s deck, saying, ¡°All the mages are jealous of us brawnies, Mark. Look at his fishy tricks! Look at how he has to gather small powers to mimic the strength of a real man!¡±

    Dad scoffed.

    They eventually got onto the boat and it was a pretty normal day.

    Mark got to drive the boat between fishing tanks. Usually Trace did that, but he foisted the job off to Mark.

    ¡°You know how to read the readout, yeah,¡± Trace asked, as he stood to the side.

    Mark adjusted the throttle and held onto the wheel. Yes, he knew how to read the readout. It was dead simple. Scanner screens sitting in holders around the captain¡¯s seat told him everything that was happening below the waters, while imagers scanned the waters for anything and everything. But saying that would be petulant, and could actually be truly dangerous, so instead, Mark said, ¡°How does it work?¡±

    Trace said, ¡°See that blue on the screen? That¡¯s the water. The black is the bottom. Green stuff is moving stuff, like fish and such¡ª Oh! See that one. That big green one. That¡¯s verging on red in the middle, which is how you know it¡¯s actually a monster. That red indicates a positive mana signature. I¡¯d say that is a half-woken beast, so not a real monster at all. It¡¯s a small one, too, and we¡¯re not food up here, so it doesn¡¯t care.¡± He smiled. ¡°Just don¡¯t go swimming.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°That much is obvious.¡±

    Trace smiled wider and chuckled, and then he pointed to the map readout. ¡°We got the tanks marked on the other side of the bay. Just pilot to the nearest one.¡± He slapped Mark¡¯s shoulder, adding, ¡°And I¡¯m gonna help with the nets.¡±

    ¡°Sure sure.¡±

    Trace spoke seriously, ¡°But for real, though. If you see a red monster of any kind, you yell out, and fast, you hear?¡±

    ¡°Heard and understood!¡± Mark said, equally seriously.

    Trace nodded, satisfied.

    Mark drove, and Trace went down to the deck with Dad and Devon to organize whatever it was they were organizing. Mark looked down and back to see if he could see¡­ Ah. Dad was repairing holes in the nets with some spot welding and new wire, and Devon was saying that he didn¡¯t see the breaks in this net, otherwise he would have gotten the other one. Mark turned back forward¡ª

    He heard Dad call out, ¡°Who¡¯s dri¡ª! Oh. Mark is driving.¡±

    And then Dad¡¯s voice was lost to the rumble of the engine and the whistling of the wind. The boat didn¡¯t go fast, but it sure did plow through the smooth waters of the bay.

    Soon enough, they had crossed out into the middle of the bay, and the scanning readout started to show some pink-bordering monsters under the waves every now and then. They were deep down, though, so that was fine. Trace didn¡¯t tell Mark about which size was dangerous ¡ªjust the color¡ª but Mark already knew. Anything actually-red needed to be warned. That¡¯s why there was a big red button among all the scanning equipment that would send out a warning chime across the boat that a big monster had been sighted.

    Mark ended up pressing the button twice, but just short bursts. Everyone raised their heads and looked around. Mark called out what he had seen, including depth and size and he even tagged the scanners to focus on those threats, but after a minute of the monsters just going on their way, Mark told everyone that, and then turned off the alarms.

    Devon, Dad, and Trace seemed good with that.

    Everyone went back to doing whatever.

    And Mark drove a boat.

    It was kinda nice. Mark loved being out here because this was as close to the real world as he could get, and yet, even with the monsters down there, all of this was pretty artificial.

    When the oceans rose 23-ish meters in the years following the Reveal, most of Florida had been drowned. People rebuilt, of course, and now it was ¡®The Floridas¡¯, with Orange City being the main city, because Orange City had a great big bay. Largest bay in the world, even! Biggest producer of fish foods in the southern half of the East Coast Union cities, too.

    Mark looked out across the waters, to the largest bit of architecture on the water.

    The Bay Wall.

    The ¡®Guardian of Orange Bay¡¯ was hundreds of 25-meter-thick silvery pillars, each with a half-meter of distance between them, set like a ribbon of high-rises across the entrance of the bay. It gleamed in the morning sun. It was the most patrolled part of the entire city wall, because the waters of Orange Bay were some of the most productive fishing spots in all of the Floridas.

    Kaijus had sometimes threatened the Bay Wall, but that was a rarity. Just like the sky whales that Mark had failed to see this year, Orange Bay was proactive about turning away threats before they got close enough to threaten actual damage.

    Mark couldn¡¯t remember the last time he actually worried about monsters inside the bay, but actually looking at the Bay Wall reminded him that there were still dangers out there, and he was still just a baseline, out here on the waters with his dad and dad¡¯s employees, on a very, very small boat.

    He didn¡¯t want to be baseline anymore.

    Soon enough, they reached the fish tanks.

    The individual fish tanks that grandpa¡¯s dad had commissioned were pretty much like the bay wall.

    The pillars of the fish tank were meter-thick silvery-metal bars that ended in domes. Each pillar was a good 30 meters tall, with most of that buried into the bottom of the bay, and only 3 meters sticking out into the open air, above the water. There was lots of living space inside that area, for the pillars formed a ring wall a good 100 meters across. Each pillar had some very basic runic enchantments on them that literally ¡®could not go bad¡¯, according to what grandpa had once said, so they¡¯d last forever, and they¡¯d always let in the good fish and deter the bad fish. Most fish hung out inside of the tank for that reason, and when they grew too big and they couldn¡¯t escape, those were the ones that got harvested, like they were going to harvest them today.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Mark was not allowed to know how the tanks¡¯ magic functioned before he went through the Tutorial or chose magery, because that would be learning magic, otherwise he¡¯d be curious about all that stuff. (He was still a whole lot of curious.) As it was, he just parked the boat next to the first tank, next to a platform that had been attached on top of the tank wall later, while the guys started lashing the boat to the tank.

    He glanced at the monster scanner and saw nothing strange except for the solid black vertical lines of the fish tank barrier, sticking out of the solid black line of the seafloor way down below. Green dashes flitted back and forth inside the barrier, indicating a lot of fish. Not much fish outside of the tanks. No monsters, either.

    Dad telekinetically hauled a net off of the deck, and positioned himself on top of the fish tank platform. Once positioned, he used his little fishy clips to grab the net in a few locations, and other fishy clips to cement his solidity upon the fish tank platform. And then he tensed his body. The fish net, which was a bundle tied onto a cable, went flying out into the tank, opening up as it flew, like a parachute deploying. The net opened to maybe 20-meters-across of strong netting, before it crashed into the water like a sudden rainfall, moving a lot faster than gravity could make it move. Dad was forcing it to move fast.

    Devon held on to a harness that Dad had tied around his waist and chest, and Dad kind of fell forward a little, but Devon was there to hold him secure. Devon wasn¡¯t secured to anything, and he didn¡¯t need it. Devon had to hold onto Dad¡¯s harness so Dad could stop holding onto the platform with his fishclips and fully extend out into the waters, with the net itself.

    Mark wasn¡¯t aware of everything Dad was doing, but he could tell more than enough. Television liked to lie about what magic could do, but this was real shit right now, and Mark could tell Dad only had so much ¡®telekinesis length¡¯, or whatever they called it.

    Mark glanced at the scanning screen and watched as the net sailed through a whole bunch of green dots. Dad had his own little scanning readout on a wristwatch, so he was probably watching the whole thing. Trace had one, too, and he was certainly doing the same thing¡ª

    Trace called out, ¡°Enough!¡±

    Dad focused on the waters ahead, and Mark watched as the screen showed a bunch of green dots all gathering together. Dad winced, and Devon gripped his harness, preparing to pull. Dad nodded, and Devon pulled back.

    It took a stressful few minutes, but Dad got the fish-filled net back up to the surface, and then Devon grabbed the cable for the very-full net and started brawny-ing it up and out of the waters. Devon didn¡¯t have Tactile Telekinesis, not really, but he secured the net better than Mark imagined he should have been able to secure it. Mark tried not to think too deeply about whatever Talent Devon probably actually had.

    Trace helped from the deck.

    All the while, a large variety of fish wiggled, splashing. Water got everywhere. Some blood, too, but that was normal. They tried not to damage the fish but incidents happened.

    The whole fish platform was set above the ring of tank pillars to allow for what Dad and the others were doing right now. Devon and Dad pulled the net up most of the way, all wriggling with fish, and then angled the opening of the net against the platform. Dad opened the net with his fish-clips and then the fish started pouring out of the net, down a slide, right into the ice-filled storage in the middle of the boat.

    There were a lot of fish. Most of it was just plain silver fish, but there were some colorful varieties in there. They¡¯d probably get picked out at the market and tossed¡­

    There were a lot of fish.

    Mark actually wondered if it was too much.

    Monsters sought large sources of gathered life to eat. The larger the gathering, the more tempting of a target it made. A bunch of fish in a school wasn¡¯t a tempting target, but a bunch of fish laying on each other in a boat¡¯s hold was another matter entirely, not to mention that there were four people already on the boat¡­ it was a little concerning.

    From the looks Trace was giving Dad, and the small words Devon was saying to Dad, on the fishing platform, maybe this many fish had been too much.

    When the fish dump was over, Dad plucked the last few wiggling fish out of the net, washed off the net, and, with a cheerful voice, ¡®suggested¡¯, ¡°Let¡¯s go dump this load at the market and then make a second run at the next tank.¡±

    Trace acted like this was a fine idea, and not a matter of life and death to dump this many fish as fast as possible. Mark saw that the tank was half full just with that one dump. Devon ¡®joked¡¯ about how Dad would have to pay them overtime for the extra travel time, and Dad responded with words about salaries and how they¡¯d be getting more money based on hauls, too; not ¡®overtime¡¯.

    Trace politely kicked Mark out of the driver¡¯s seat and took over.

    Mark looked at them all and said, ¡°So that¡¯s a lot of fish and we¡¯re monster targets now. How much of a problem is this?¡±

    Silence.

    Trace said, ¡°It¡¯s fine. We¡¯re close to the market. We can dump. There won¡¯t be a problem.¡±

    Dad smiled again, saying, ¡°Trace is right!¡±

    Trace ended up right. There wasn¡¯t a single incident at all.

    The rest of the day ended up with smaller catches, and two more trips to the market, because Dad didn¡¯t pull as deep as he did that first time.

    Fishing was fucking boring when it was done right.

    Mark took it as a heavy reminder that he did not want to pick the safe route at all. He did not want this life that Mom and Dad wanted for him. And they knew it. Dad didn¡¯t bring that up, though.

    He also didn¡¯t talk about how this fishery had been in the family for three generations so far, not including Mark, and that it had provided them with a good life. They weren¡¯t rich, but they had a great house and everything they wanted. And wasn¡¯t that good enough?

    It was a good day of ¡®fishing¡¯, and that¡¯s what they called the job, but it was really more like ¡®catching¡¯ when done professionally and in curated waters.

    On the final ride back to dock, with everyone knocking back a soda and sitting around the pilot¡¯s seat while Mark drove, Dad told his guys, ¡°We can haul in fish like that first catch. The tanks let more fish go than they catch, and we always grab shallowly, but I can absolutely make big grabs if we get more men to help guard the catch.¡± He glanced to Mark. ¡°And if Mark wants to join us as another brawny after his Tutorial that¡¯s another guard for the pot, but if you want to learn telekinesis and take over the family business, that¡¯s just a one-year course at arcanaeum and it¡¯s easy money to work this job. Safe money, too.¡±

    ¡­ Ya know? Mark actually considered it, for real.

    Those little fishclips could be pretty deadly, though Dad hadn¡¯t used them like that at all.

    Yes. This was a boring day on the water and they all smelled like fish now. But¡­ But Telekinesis was pretty damned good. And a backup plan of working the family job? Well¡­

    Mark really considered it.

    The guys watched.

    Mark countered, ¡°But what if I want telekinesis and not fish-yank.¡±

    Dad smiled wide and truly happy. ¡°Then that¡¯s a 4-year course.¡±

    Mark instantly tried to temper Dad¡¯s enthusiasm, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to come home for a long time if I did that, Dad.¡±

    Dad was still grinning. ¡°I know. No plans need to be made yet, anyway¡­¡± He looked to the guys, ¡°But maybe we can make plans for bigger catches?¡±

    Devon wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°I need to think and monsters are no fucking joke at all, Markus.¡± He said, ¡°Let¡¯s talk about it tonight.¡±

    Trace said, ¡°I don¡¯t need to think. I know we¡¯re doing enough. We could do more, but we¡¯re doing enough.¡±

    That put a bit of a damper on the whole thing.

    Mark asked, ¡°Couldn¡¯t you enchant the boat with anti-monster enchants, or something? I know there¡¯s something like that on the fish tanks¡­ Eh. Curtain Protocol. Nevermind!¡±

    Devon shook his head. Dad said nothing.

    Trace deigned to say, ¡°That¡¯s not how magic works.¡±

    Mark mumbled, ¡°I saw it work that way on television.¡±

    Devon burst out laughing, and so did Dad.

    Trace smiled as he drove the boat back to home dock.

    When they pulled up to the pylons that led into their canal, Dad swung his badges at the guards, and the guard pressed a button behind their booth. Mark was pretty sure the guards didn¡¯t even look up from their television show to see the badges. The pylons just sunk deep into the canal, and they waved the boat on through.

    Mark was the only one who watched the pylons go back up after the boat passed.

    Soon, Trace locked the boat next to the dock, and everyone got out and started final cleanups. It didn¡¯t take long. They had made everything ready to take off or stow away while they were driving back to dock. Dad used his little fish clips to grab the nets they had used, putting them into the lockers by the dock, but he left one out. That remaining net had gotten eaten through by something in the third fish tank. No one saw what it was, or maybe Dad killed it with his fish clips and no one thought that Mark needed to know what had happened out there, but that didn¡¯t matter. The net needed repair.

    Dad held the torn net up, asking, ¡°Devon? Your turn, right?¡±

    ¡°Shit. I guess it is. Give it here, Markus.¡±

    Dad floated the hundred-kilo thing into Devon¡¯s arms, saying, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Dad locked up the boat, while Trace waved and walked away, carrying a cooler of fish, and Devon walked the other way, holding on to the net over one shoulder while holding a cooler of fish in that same hand. It looked like it was too much to carry, but Devon was a brawny, and he had strength to spare. He probably had a little bit of tactile telekinesis, too.

    Mark tried not to analyze the magic he saw, though. He¡¯d do that later, when Curtain Protocol wasn¡¯t hanging over his head.

    Mark held on to a crate of fish for dinner using both hands, and it was pretty heavy. He almost set it down onto the ground, but Dad was almost done with final boat checks, so Mark just held onto it.

    As they walked toward the old truck, Mark said, ¡°I think I do want to do the telekinesis-thing, Dad. I¡¯m going to call the Arcanaeum tomorrow and start looking into scholarships for that. They said I didn¡¯t qualify for any based on the readout, but I¡¯m going to look more. Really do some digging.¡±

    Dad was exhausted from working all day long, sweat coating his shirt and both of them smelled like fish and the ocean. But upon hearing that, Dad turned almost radiant with joy. He smiled, and Mark felt so much better about his choices now that he had actually made one. And then Dad pulled back a little bit, trying to be serious.

    Dad said, ¡°If you want to explore the world you¡¯re gonna need the actual telekinesis spell, and that means 4 years of hard work. It won¡¯t be as good as Awakening to Telekinesis, though. With some hard work you might be able to do half-magic. Be a halfer. You can certainly be stronger than me, though. I only did it for a single year. I¡­¡± He paused as the words backed up. ¡°I really wish I could talk to you about that year, but¡­ I can¡¯t. I know you can do better than me, though. I think you¡¯ll do really well in arcanaeum.¡±

    Mark smiled as he loaded the cooler full of fish into the back of the truck, saying, ¡°It¡¯s just like college, right?¡±

    Dad paused. He wanted to say something, but he didn¡¯t. He pulled back, saying, ¡°I can¡¯t tell you anything about magic.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes, saying, ¡°You can¡¯t even tell me if it¡¯s like college?¡±

    Dad smiled again and grabbed him in a hug, slapping his back, saying, ¡°Your mom is going to be so happy!¡±

    The perfect non-answer, then. Mark chuckled on Dad¡¯s shoulder, and then they broke up, and got in the car. Mark smiled a lot on the way home.

    Mom turned out to be very happy with Mark¡¯s decision, just as Dad had said.

 006

    ¡°Administration for Orange Academy. How may I direct your call?¡±

    ¡°Hello. My name is Mark Careed. I took a scan there a week ago to see if I had any latent magics that would enable me to have a¡­ a scholarship, or something.¡± Mark kinda lost it there at the end. He rallied. ¡°I was given a¡­¡± He mostly rallied. ¡°I was given a negative on the scholarships. I was hoping I could get that decision, like, reversed, or something. I really want to learn Telekinesis like my dad sort of has to take part in the family business and explore the world. Uh¡­¡± He lost it completely.

    ¡­ Was that enough?

    Mark added, ¡°Can you help?¡±

    The woman on the other end of the phone call said, ¡°¡­ Okay. I¡¯ll direct you to Scholarship Aid. One moment, please.¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± Mark said, enthusiastically, completely unsure why he was so enthusiastic.

    He wasn¡¯t sure about a lot right now.

    He held his phone to his ear and paced around his bedroom. It was 10 am and it was raining hard outside. No fishing today, and Mark decided that he didn¡¯t need to go back to school at all, and though the rugby guys were mad at him, Mark needed to think about the future and it wasn¡¯t like he was the star player on the team, anyway. The star player was Adam, and Adam had gone away for Winter Break and never come back, because he was training for Tutorial now, too.

    A lot of people ignored their senior year in high school. It was pretty normal. People still got mad about it.

    Ignoring his senior year was one of his many decisions Mark had made in this past week, along with his future plans for magic and all of that¡­ stuff. Gods. Mark was freaking out. The music on the phone was so placid, blahblahblahing in his ear, and yet his heart was racing, his palms sweating. Mark had taken the practice GED last night and he had easily passed. He was going to take the real GED next week. Once he did that, he¡¯d qualify for Basic Income. Then he could actually go to work full time with Dad so he could start saving up money. He couldn¡¯t actually go to arcanaeum until he had that GED, either, and he needed money¡ª

    The music stopped, and Mark¡¯s heart stopped with it.

    ¡°Hello. This is the Scholarship Aid office. Miranda speaking. How can I help you?¡±

    Mark¡¯s throat was dry. ¡°Uh¡ª¡± He took a breath, and said, ¡°Hello. My name is Mark Careed. I showed up for a full-scan a while ago, to check for latent powers or inclinations. They found nothing¡ª Ah. Archmage Sloane Addashield read the readout for me? I know that was the evaluation I received, but I want to continue in the family business of a fishery, and that requires Telekinesis¡ª or any solid-state kinetic power¡ª magic. Uh. Grandpa had hydrokinesis...¡± Mark was losing it. He found it again, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a brawny. I could do the Tutorial and get that. I easily passed the False Tutorial.¡± ¡®Easily¡¯ was subjective. ¡°I don¡¯t want brawny. I want¡­ Telekinesis.¡±

    ¡°Okay then! One moment Mister Careed. I¡¯m pulling up your file now.¡±

    Mark quietly said, ¡°Thanks yo¡ª thank. Thank you.¡±

    Silence.

    Mark paced in his room, one hand on his phone, holding it against his face, the other grabbing his neck, massaging his own neck, trying not to panic about how he might have fucked up already. And he looked at the readout the archmage had given him. It sat on his desk in his room, the few pages of it splayed out and visible. It was a bunch of numbers and graphs, and all of the numbers were in the single digits out of 100, and all the graphs were wavy lines running along the bottom, just above the X-axis.

    An eternity later, the lady¡¯s voice returned, ¡°Date of birth?¡±

    ¡°May 3rd, 2030.¡±

    ¡°Mark Careed! This is you, yes. So yes. The archmage¡¯s declaration was correct. You don¡¯t qualify for any normal scholarships.¡±

    Mark was crushed all over again. ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    The woman¡¯s voice asked, ¡°Could you tell me a bit more about your situation, though? You said something about a family business?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure where this was going, but he said, ¡°Uh. My dad is the owner of a third-generation fishery. Grandpa inherited the place from great-grandpa. Grandpa had hydrokinesis. I think great-grandpa did, too, or something. Dad went to the arcanaeum to get something¡ª Not sure how he ended up with telekinesis, but he did¡­ Though he uses it mostly to catch fish and work little metal charms that are shaped like fish, to grab the nets that grab the fish. We pull in a few tons of fish per day from our fish tanks out in Orange Bay. We¡¯ve been doing that for a long time. I was kinda¡­ I was going to abandon the family business but I¡¯m checking all my options... I hoped to get something¡­ good. You know? I studied for the Tutorial and I¡¯ve been handy with a spear for the last few¡­¡± Years? How many years? Numbers escaped Mark right now. ¡°For years now. but I can use any weapon. And my False Tutorial readout has me at 95% Brawn, 2.35x baseline.

    ¡°I won¡¯t do brawny. I¡­ I can¡¯t be that.

    ¡°That happened a month ago. It¡¯s been a confusing time since then.

    ¡°So I circled back to the fishery option, and it¡¯s looking appealing. I want more than that, though. I want to be able to actually kill the monsters when they appear, and I want to be able to walk into the hero-only parts of Orange City or anywhere else. I want to be able to walk onto Daihoon and not worry about dying to slimes, or whatever normal things are over there. I¡¯m still under Curtain Protocol and I know my mana channels are still untouched, as much as they can be.

    ¡°And so that¡¯s where I¡¯m at.

    ¡°I want to be able to actually haul up multiple tons of fish all at once, and be able to swing a spear hard enough to discourage any monsters, and not have to worry about my safety. And I want to be able to protect others. That¡¯s what I really wanted before this¡­ disappointment. I wanted to be a¡­¡± Mark said quietly, ¡°A hero.¡±

    Without missing a beat, the woman said, ¡°I can already tell you that you likely qualify for a family-line scholarship. I¡¯d need to get some details, but that¡¯s easy enough to do. I can also tell you that it appears Archmage Addashield did not give you an exit interview, otherwise you probably would have already known this. I¡¯m glad you called! You definitely qualify for something, Mister Careed, for almost everyone qualifies for something. We just need to figure out what.¡±

    Mark felt the world turn lighter, and easier.

    The woman asked, ¡°As long as you¡¯re not wealthy enough to afford arcanaeum on your own?¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°Ah. No. Not rich at all. Mom and Dad were talking about selling stuff in order to pay for arcanaeum, or I¡¯d need to work for a year or two and save to go to arcanaeum for a year, and then repeat that process for the four years of arcanaeum. Or maybe save up for a decade and go to arcanaeum in my late 20s.¡±

    The woman said, ¡°All of those are bad options because once you break Curtain Protocol and learn magic you need to go all the way, as far as you can as fast as you can, and then you can take your time. You need to do this to settle your mana veins in the proper configurations, and you certainly don¡¯t want to try to learn this stuff beyond Tutorial age. If you waited 10 years then you¡¯d certainly be exposed to thoughts and magics that would inhibit proper solidification. What I would have you do is let me help you find some scholarship money or a work-release program for a mage that you would have to do after arcanaeum. That way you can get your proper learning done and solidified and you can actually participate in adult conversations where people talk about magic all the time in casual ways.¡±

    Mark steeled himself. ¡°Okay!¡±

    ¡°The conversation I want to have with you is going to take half an hour to an hour, and probably closer to an hour, and I need to do some research before I can have this conversation with you. Can I call you back tomorrow or the next day for that hour-long interview?¡±

    Mark instantly said, ¡°Sure! I¡¯m free¡ª Wait. Uh¡­¡± He looked out the window. ¡°I¡¯m not on the boat today because of rain, but¡­ Uh. In two days? At 3 pm? Or something like that? On the weekend?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pencil you in for Friday at 3 PM, if that¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Thank you so much! Thank you¡­ uh. Sorry. I forgot your name?¡±

    ¡°Miranda Chase, but you can call me Miranda, Mister Careed.¡±

    ¡°Uh! You can call me Mark. Thank you so much!¡±

    ¡°Call you then, Mark. I should have good news. I usually do!¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Good bye.¡± She hung up.

    Mark stared at his phone for a little while, smiling. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Eventually he went downstairs to the garage, where Dad was repairing a fishing net, and told him the good news.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    - - - -

    ¡°Gods, Sally,¡± Mark said, sitting on a log next to Sally, overlooking the swamp near Sally¡¯s house. ¡°It was embarrassing how happy he was.¡±

    Mark was kinda happy with how happy Dad was, though. Mom, too.

    Sally and Mark were sweating hard and exhausted, their wooden swords propped up against the tree of their little practice area. The two of them had been coming out here for years for some serious practice that neither of them could get out of the other people in the Tutorial prep programs.

    Sally chugged from her water bottle, her hair all messed up. When she stopped chugging, she said, ¡°Of course he was happy! You¡¯re gonna be a fishboy, just like him.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°I am not! Just sometimes, you know?¡±

    Sally smiled. ¡°It¡¯ll be good for you to have a backup plan for when you fail out of being an adventurer.¡±

    Mark scoffed and threw his empty water bottle at her head. She deflected it right back at him and Mark let it strike his chest and roll off onto the ground. He¡¯d pick it up later.

    ¡°You better not turn into some crazy adventurer while I¡¯m away at arcanaeum,¡± Mark said.

    Sally just grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you, when I¡¯m out there¡ª¡± She turned dramatic, ¡°Saving women from monsters and then bedding them! Sometimes twice a night!¡± Mark laughed as Sally acted sad, ¡°And you¡¯re with your books that you never got to read, losing your muscle mass and gaining brain wrinkles.¡±

    ¡°Hey now! Brain wrinkles are good!¡±

    ¡°Bad for your skin, I¡¯m sure. Wrinkles mean wrinkles, I¡¯m sure! Have you seen a single young mage that isn¡¯t demon-touched? No way!¡± Sally grinned.

    Mark just smiled.

    Sally went quiet, thoughtful.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll still get out there¡­ eventually. But neither of us is going to make it to old age without injuries, and magic will be good for a backup plan. If I end up with any level of Telekinesis that approaches the real thing, then I¡¯ll join you out there and fly circles around you.¡±

    Sally scoffed. ¡°Holding yourself up by your magic limbs is not flying.¡±

    ¡°They have those self-propelled gliders. I could strap one on and spin the rotors all myself.¡± Mark said, ¡°That¡¯d be flying.¡±

    ¡°Nope! Not flight!¡±

    Mark laughed.

    ¡°Now the Chosen system, and Drakarok. That¡¯s gonna give me everything I need, including flight, and I aim to take it.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide as he looked at Sally, and he realized she wasn¡¯t spitballing this time.

    Sally was coyly looking at him, wondering what he was going to say.

    Mark, unfortunately, exploded, ¡°The god of War and Murder? The fuck, Sally!¡±

    Sally rapidly said, ¡°Yes! Yes. I know. I¡¯ll be focusing on the war part, against monsters. Less-to-none on the murder part. Have you thought of Freyala more?¡±

    ¡°No no. No switching the subject like that. Let¡¯s go back to how you¡¯re throwing in with Drakarok. The God of War and Murder.¡±

    Sally breathed out, frowning a little. She looked away. Eventually, she said, ¡°You were talking about Freyala as a booster in power, and I tried her first. Didn¡¯t like what she had to say about me, and what she wanted from me. She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s defensive, Mark.¡±

    Freyala was the goddess of Protection and Healing, so yeah. That was Freyala¡ª

    OHHHHhhhh.

    Mark said, ¡°And you want to cut down your problems.¡±

    Sally sighed. ¡°I am 3 inches shorter than you. I am 50 pounds lighter than you. Both of us are 5 years from our peak as warriors, but those numbers ain¡¯t gonna change much. Becoming a brawny in the Tutorial will even out some of that discrepancy for me, but it¡¯ll take extreme measures to stand on any front line with any guy at my own level. Extreme measures that Drakarok can give me. In a lot of ways, becoming a brawny will just put me firmly at the bottom of a pack of all the other brawnies out there out there.¡± She looked at him, softly declaring, ¡°I¡¯m not going to be at the bottom of any pack.¡±

    Mark understood.

    He really did.

    He was only 5¡¯7¡± himself, but he was 180 pounds of solid muscle. Sally was 5¡¯4¡± and 130. Both of them were solid shorties. They had been friends for a long time, but they had turned best friends because of that¡­ as well as them living so close to each other.

    Becoming a brawny of any sort usually made a person taller and stronger, too. If Mark was honest with himself, that was the only real reason for him to go brawny himself, and it was not good enough of a reason, either.

    Mark said, ¡°Okay. Yeah. When you put it like that. I understand¡­ Mostly. So you decided to go for the Tutorial, then? All the way?¡±

    Sally relaxed. She grinned, and said, ¡°Yeah. In a few months I¡¯m going to take the Tutorial, and get brawny. I don¡¯t want to bother with whatever book shit they teach you in arcanaeum anyway. I¡¯m gonna leave you so far in the dust.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°All I¡¯ll have to do is stand on top of my telekinetic tendrils and most of the monsters couldn¡¯t even reach me. I¡¯ll be catching up so fast you¡¯ll be wondering what the fuck happened.¡±

    Sally smiled warmly. She looked at him, saying, ¡°I hope you do, Mark.¡±

    Mark looked down, and away, and then beyond their practice court. His words choked out of him, ¡°D¡ª don¡¯t go dying to some slime or wolf, Sally.¡±

    Sally laughed once and got up, saying, ¡°You forget! I¡¯ll be a priest of the Murder God. I¡¯ll be the one doing all the killing. I¡¯ll be great!¡± She grabbed her wooden sword and slapped her helmet back on, saying, ¡°Show me what your devotion to Protection can actually accomplish!¡±

    Mark got up and grabbed his wooden sword, grinning as he slapped his own helmet back on, saying, ¡°I haven¡¯t actually gone to Freyala at all yet, so this shit talking isn¡¯t doing anything for me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s doing wonders for me, though!¡±

    Mark was about to square up, but he stepped back and looked at Sally. ¡°Is it, actually? Like is Drakarok looking right now?¡± He got suddenly concerned. ¡°Sally! Did you break Curtain Protocol!?¡±

    Sally gave a large smile, saying, ¡°Nope! I did pledge myself already, though. Don¡¯t go easy on me, Mark. Bring it.¡±

    Mark squared up, saying, ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you...¡±

    Sally was about to complain.

    Mark added, ¡°Much.¡±

    They fought, perhaps harder than they had ever fought before, but maybe not really.

    Mark ended up getting pushed back almost instantly, having to angle his sword so that Sally deflected to the side, and then he cut inward with a counter, but Sally slapped his attack away with her buckler and then they backed off each other. Mark almost asked her what the fuck was that, because she was being way more aggressive than usual, but then she continued her aggression and came at him again, her buckler leading the way. She tried to slap his sword to the side and come in with her own, but Mark was ready for that and he did have a lot more reach on her just by virtue of his size, so he used that advantage.

    His buckler went at her face and her wooden sword struck his shoulder.

    They both came away from the exchange hurting¡ª

    Sally spat out a tooth.

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°Shit! Sorry! Let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Sally advanced, and Mark defended. Strikes came high and Mark defended with counters before twisting into a strike that almost hit Sally, but she evaded at every blow and then she came around with strikes that were harder than ever. Mark deflected.

    Breathing evenly, pacing himself, Mark entered the flow, and Sally did, too. They had fought each other hundreds of times. Neither of them was a good partner for each other anymore, because neither of them improved each other anymore, but it was good practice anyway. But today, Sally was different.

    She stepped stronger. She struck harder. She moved faster than before.

    And something was building up on Mark. Pain. Simple pain was going to knock him out of the fight before it knocked out Sally¡ª

    Sally swung at his legs and Mark failed to realize that she could actually hit him with her attempt. She struck a clean blow. Mark went down, his leg seizing up at the pain, and Sally backed away, cheering.

    ¡°I got you! I got you, Mark!¡±

    Mark lay on the ground, breathing hard, grimacing, willing the pain away. Soon, he chuckled. ¡°Good fight.¡±

    Sally laughed, whooping and hollering.

    As Mark lay on the ground, hurting everywhere and bleeding from his hands, he took off his gloves and looked at the damage. He wasn¡¯t quite sure how, but he was bleeding from the hands. Cuts had opened up everywhere, like paper cuts. It looked worse than it was, but it was already seriously stinging.

    Sally sat on her ass beside him, smiling, though she was missing a tooth. ¡°You fought well, Mark.¡±

    Mark almost sat up to look at her, but he decided to just lay there instead. He put his gloves back on, stinging the whole time, but he needed to wear them just so he didn¡¯t bleed everywhere on his way to Freyala¡¯s free healing clinic. ¡°You already declared for War, then.¡±

    ¡°Phhhh!¡± Sally exhaled. ¡°You don¡¯t think I could kick your ass without a god¡¯s help?¡±

    Mark looked her straight in the eyes and talked shit, ¡°Nope.¡±

    Sally laughed. She smiled. She said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what any of that was, but¡­ I think it was a taste. I haven¡¯t actually declared yet, but I¡¯ve had a few talks with his priesthood. He wants me to kill monsters and I already decided I want to do that long before I went to him, so it¡¯s a good fit. The only difference is that I¡¯ll be declaring a kill for him once a month, and in exchange¡­ I¡¯m not sure what he¡¯ll give me, but Warriors of War are the frontline fighters against monsters, and I¡¯m going to be there.¡±

    ¡°There are so many types of frontline fighters¡­¡± Mark ended that thought before he could really articulate it. Instead, he sat up, aching all the while, and told Sally, ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    Under the cuts on her face and her broken front tooth and split lip, Sally looked happy.

    Happily, she said, ¡°Thanks, Mark.¡± And then she slapped her knees and stood up, saying, ¡°And now! Holy fuck! I¡¯m in a lot of pain! Let¡¯s go to Freyala¡¯s Healing House.¡±

    Mark held up a hand. ¡°Help me up.¡±

    Sally grabbed his wrist and he grabbed hers. ¡°Always.¡±

 007

    ¡°You can sit in the Healing Room, Mister Careed. Miss Wuthers will need looked at, following by a stay in a Healing Room.¡±

    Mark said ¡®see ya later¡¯ to Sally at the intake for Freyala¡¯s House of Healing, with him headed right and her headed left. It had been a fucking chore to get here on the bikes first, and then on a stop on the tram, but both of them were here now, and soon they¡¯d get healed.

    Mark crashed onto one of the empty chairs in the Healing Room and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he took a glance at his surroundings. This was pretty much a waiting room like at any doctor¡¯s office, but with Freyala¡¯s ¡®iconography¡¯ everywhere. Almost none of it was professional iconography, though, so did it even count as such? They must have thought so to have so much of it up there.

    Hand-drawn art from kids done in crayon and colored pencil, thanking Freyala for healing them, or their parents, hung everywhere, some of it layered on top of each other. A lot of it was the same line drawing, printed on cheap paper and then crayoned over by small, inexact hands. A full stack of the same coloring papers rested on a low table in the middle of the room, along with jar-fulls of wax crayons. There was even blank paper for kids to draw their own works of art, to pin onto the walls. The walls had so many pins on them; they must be made of corkboard.

    Many of the drawings had little notes of thank you on them. ¡®Thanks for healing daddy!¡¯ or ¡®Mommy is better! Thank you!¡¯ or the like. Many of the letters were inexact, but some of the kids had obviously had coaching on what to write down. There was a ¡®Thank you for fixing dad¡¯s broken back!¡¯ that was particularly well written. Maybe it was just a smart kid, though. Mark had been a smart kid. Or at least his parents had told him that. He had made up drawings like this when he was that age, ten years ago.

    Mark smiled at all of it.

    He liked Freyala the best because she was simply good. There was nothing untoward in her messaging. Just ¡®heal everyone and protect everyone¡¯. Simple stuff. Freyala had risen in the Reveal, like pretty much all the gods of the New Pantheon (the only still-existent Pantheon). Her story was one of healing plagues released by the reunion of worlds. Big magics, done 75-ish years ago.

    Freyala was at the forefront of healing everything, really. Hearthswell, the other god(dess) who provided healing magic, was more about cultivating civilization.

    Sally¡¯s choice of Drakarok as a patron was¡­ an unorthodox choice, to be sure. Apparently the guy had a great reputation over on Daihoon, but on Earth, before he was a god, General Alexander Volkov was most well known for the murder of 4 different world leaders and 250 staff, all at the same time, as well as preventing World War 4 because he had murdered those people. World War 4 still happened, but they called it World War Not, because it was mostly just the complete dissolution of many of the normal governments of the world failing to stay together; Civil wars everywhere. Not many big cross-country wars.

    To say that Drakarok was a controversial figure on Earth would be underselling that fact by a lot.

    To say that Drakarok was lauded on Daihoon would also be underselling it.

    He was still in the Pantheon, though. He was still a main god¡ª

    Oh.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Mark relaxed, as the full-body sting he had been experiencing ever since his bout with Sally, was gone. Something had flicked and relaxed inside his body, and now the pain was a partial sting, mostly confined to his hands and his left leg. Mark¡¯s ungloved hands were still bloody, but it was dried and flaking away, vanishing under godly might. Some sort of cleansing magic, really.

    Mark smiled at how fast he was being healed.

    Mark almost wanted to draw Freyala a little picture of something as thanks¡­ And maybe he would!

    He glanced around and saw he was the only one in the room, so he grabbed a clipboard, a piece of paper, and a blue crayon, and drew a little picture of an angel in a blue dress. It was a pretty normal depiction of Freyala. Mark finished it off with a ¡®Thank you for the healing!¡¯ and then he tacked it onto the wall, in one of the emptier spaces.

    By the time he was done with that he was fully healed.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how they healed him, exactly, but he knew the mirror in the room was actually a one-way mirror, and people behind that glass were watching him and casting spells, and maybe that would be him one day, if he chose to ask for Freyala¡¯s help in life. She¡¯d tell him ¡®report here for these many days per month and heal people!¡¯ and Mark would do it.

    Drakarok requested one monster kill a month from his people, which was normal for him, but Freyala and Hearthswell, the two healing gods, required that they heal others with the gifts those gods bestowed.

    Mark was rather on-the-fence regarding a divine patron, but¡­

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t hurt to ask what the actual requirements were, right?¡±

    Mark always liked the idea of not getting hurt in battle, too, so Freyala was the better choice of healing gods, since her other thing was Protection. Hearthswell was more about making homes and families and communities.

    Mark stopped at the front desk again, saying, ¡°I¡¯m interested in getting Freyala as a patron for warrior stuff out in the world, but I¡¯m not actually doing any of that right now at all, and maybe not for years. I¡¯m still under Curtain Protocol. I think I¡¯m asking about the Chosen system, becoming a devotee to Freyala, but not sure if that¡¯s what I want, exactly? Who can I talk to about that?¡±

    The person behind the counter was just a secretary, so she tapped away at her console in front of her, and then looked up to Mark, asking, ¡°If it¡¯s a general questioning, how about an appointment for a meeting in a week with a Priest? Next Wednesday some time?¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡±

    ¡°Morning or afternoon?¡±

    Mark made his appointment, and was soon out of there.

    As Mark was on the tram, not waiting for Sally who had already texted him that she had left, he smiled.

    So! The Tutorial was a bust.

    This secondary option was shaping up to be a whole lot more what he wanted. Healing and Protection ¡ªif this Freyala thing worked out¡ª and also Telekinesis. That was, like, a perfect combination, right?

    As Mark stared out of the tram window, a thought occurred.

    Could he even do all of that?

    He had no idea how magic actually worked, but he did know that people who entered into the Chosen system under a god usually got minor divine abilities in exchange for doing work, usually called quests. So, theoretically, he should be able to do both Telekinesis and Healing and Protection¡­ Or maybe just Telekinesis and Healing and maybe protection¡­

    ¡°Or maybe just telekinesis and healing, all minor like; not capitalized,¡± Mark mumbled to himself, as he pedaled his bike toward home.

 008

    The phone rang at 2:51 PM, and Mark was not prepared for it, but he answered anyway, ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°Hello, Mark Careed, yes?¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°Yes! Hello! Miranda, yes?¡±

    With a professional, nice tone, Miranda said, ¡°Yes. This is Miranda calling from Scholarship Aid at Orange Arcanaeum. I had expected today¡¯s conversation to last a good 50 minutes, but it¡¯s actually going to be a short one, because I am pleased to tell you that I sent your information up the chain and it came back with Archmage Sloane Addashield on the hook! Isn¡¯t that wonderful!¡± Miranda said, all excited. And then she slyly added, ¡°That¡¯s a little fishing joke.¡±

    Mark chuckled because he had no idea what Miranda meant by any of that.

    ¡­ And then he realized he didn¡¯t understand anything.

    ¡°What does that mean, though?¡± Mark asked. ¡°I met the guy briefly but I didn¡¯t even know his name until I researched it afterward.¡± And then Mark recalled more of that moment in time. ¡°He seemed rushed? I didn¡¯t want to actually say anything to him about¡­ what had happened.¡±

    Miranda got right into it, saying, ¡°Addashield has suffered a large loss. It¡¯s news in all the noble circles. He was here at Orange Academy to try and drown himself in work, which is why he was there at your full scan and why he was so curt. Please forgive him. Long, involved story short: Archmage Addashield is looking for a new apprentice because his previous apprentice failed the Tutorial. He died.¡±

    Mark breathed deep. ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Dan Clover will be missed, but the archmage still needs an apprentice due to various agreements, and if Addashield hadn¡¯t been so distraught he might have read your readout more carefully. That is just what he told me, just yesterday. He wants to speak to you directly. Can you be here at Orange Arcanaeum by midday tomorrow?¡±

    Mark had no idea if he could be there tomorrow, but it was Saturday tomorrow, so he could probably¡ª

    Mark was being an idiot.

    ¡°Absolutely. I can absolutely be there.¡±

    - - - -

    ¡°And, uh, that¡¯s my history. I guess.¡±

    Mark barely remembered the first fifteen minutes of meeting the archmage, alone, in an office in Orange Arcanaeum. He had been here, he had answered questions, he had mostly talked about schoolwork and Tutorial training and various certifications, and he had mentioned his family business. Had he been too modest? Should he have talked himself up? Archmage Sloane Addashield was looking rather quiet right now, and to the side. Not directly at Mark at all.

    Oh gods.

    Mark had fucked up.

    Here was this great big opportunity and Mark had f¡ª

    ¡°I have a demon that requires I raise apprentices that might decide to become demon-contracted themselves, using the same contracts that I have with my own demon. It¡¯s a good contract, but this stipulation for apprentices is always a hassle. That¡¯s why I¡¯m doing this. That¡¯s why we¡¯re talking again.

    ¡°I have to do this.

    ¡°I would rather not, but needs must.

    ¡°My apprentice died in the Tutorial.¡± Addashield looked away. ¡°It has been difficult. Dan Clover was to be a real apprentice. You will be a fulfilled obligation. I have needed to do this many times before, so I expect no real trouble in the process, but...¡± He frowned. He turned back toward Mark. ¡°You¡¯re barely a fit for my needs, but you do fit, in the way that you can shove a square peg into a round hole if you shave off the corners.

    ¡°The first thing you need to know is that if you want to take my offer, then it¡¯s gonna hurt. I will be giving you a mana flavoring to attune your channels in the proper directions. After that, you¡¯ll have to go through the Tutorial in a few months, and when you do, I will be there with you to finish the process and get you fully attuned to my desired needs, which means metalkinesis of a particular flavor. You can still do the healing thing from Freyala if you want. You¡¯d probably need to do that anyway, because a forced mana shift is¡­ It¡¯s a lot more dangerous than people think it is. It¡¯s what happened in the Reveal, and it killed so many of Earth¡¯s people. The Veil restored the barrier, but people born on Earth are¡­¡± He frowned, and then he allowed, ¡°Not something to be discussed in full with a person under Curtain Protocol, I guess.

    ¡°Anyway.

    ¡°Your recovery time after flavoring your mana will be a month. Your recovery time after Tutorial will be measured in months, if not a full year. This is not a kindness I do to you. This is rough surgery, and you¡¯ll live, but you might not want to for a few days.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t take my offer, then I¡¯ll clear the path for you to inherit your father¡¯s business with a full Telekinesis scholarship ride. That means between 4 and 5 years of arcanaeum, and you might not even get the full spell. Most people never do. Your father never did.

    ¡°So those are the options.

    ¡°Take my offer of enforcing your future development down a path of adamantiumkinesis, unlocked at Tutorial-level strength, or a full ride for Telekinesis training at arcanaeum, which might make you a halfer, if you¡¯re truly skilled. Or maybe more than that! Who knows.¡± Addashield added, ¡°You might pick up a few other magics at arcanaeum, too, if you opt for the arcanaeum route. Hard to know.

    ¡°Some people you¡¯d expect to do remarkably well in arcanaeum fail out completely, and some that you think will fail in their first month turn into archmages. Such is the way of life.¡±

    Mark was almost 100% sure he wanted Addashield¡¯s offer, for any sort of kinetic magic was at the absolute top of his list of Wants. Telekinesis was generalized kinesis and not nearly as strong as specialized kinesis. Mark had often suspected that Dad had specialized into ¡®fish-pull-kinesis¡¯ just for the power boost that specialization brought, but he honestly did not know.

    He didn¡¯t know a lot.

    Mark asked, ¡°Can I ask questions?¡±

    ¡°The first part of attuning you to metalkinesis is talking about magic. This is the lowest level of mana flavoring.¡± Addashield said, ¡°I¡¯ll actually answer questions if you want to accept my offer, otherwise I will not.¡±

    ¡°I just have one sideways sort of question, then, to start,¡± Mark said. When Addashield didn¡¯t deny him, Mark plowed on, ¡°What does it look like, after I succeed, to have this thing done to me? Or for me?¡±

    Addashield paused, grinned just a little, then said, ¡°The aftermath of a full success looks like me introducing you to my demon¡¯s kin, you telling them to fuck off, and you then getting on with the rest of your life.¡± He sat back in his chair. ¡°I¡¯ve done this 30 times before, once every 10 years. Only twice have people contracted with the demons I introduced them to. Both of those people were true apprentices, and not obligations. Most of all of them died in monster incursions, but I still keep in touch with their next of kin...¡± His voice drifted away. He shook his head. He breathed, and his eyes turned solid. ¡°Your choice, please.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°I choose adamantiumkinesis, obviously!¡± Mark said, thrilled to hear himself say it. ¡°The strongest metal in the world! YES!¡±

    Addashield smiled, almost sadly. ¡°Your majority is in 4 months, you said?¡±

    Mark was confused for a moment¡ª

    Oh!

    He asked, ¡°Tutorial? In 4 months, yes. May 3rd. My 18th birthday. Yes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a close timeframe, but I can make it work. I will be working with others, obviously. You¡¯re just one of a few that I hope to use to salvage this tragedy. You will not have access to me, but I will have access to you when I want for probably the next two years. You understand?¡±

    ¡°Sir yes sir!¡±

    Addashield nodded. ¡°You said you wanted to do a Chosen power through Freyala?¡±

    ¡°Yes! ¡­ Uh. Unless I can¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°You can do both, and maybe at full power, too, so we¡¯re going to attune you to both at the same time. Some healing magic will make the real Awakening that much easier, and it¡¯s not like it¡¯ll cause too much more pain or recovery time.¡±

    An emphatic thought echoed in Mark¡¯s mind,

    Oh my gods.

    Followed by,

    Wait what?

    What does that mean? Two Talents?! Or just some godly¡­ what?

    Mark didn¡¯t know what he didn¡¯t know, but Addashield was a Hero of Humanity, so Mark trusted him implicitly. Except¡­ Pain? Mark was elated and a little scared.

    ¡°Err¡­¡± Mark found himself grinning a little, even though he really didn¡¯t think he should be grinning right now. A nervous chuckle escaped him. ¡°Uh. You make it sound¡­ Er. Bad¡ª¡± He rapidly added, ¡°I¡¯ve broken bones before. Is a¡­ a ¡®flavoring¡¯ worse than that?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Think of it less like a body pain and more like an ¡®oh gods everything is on fire forever¡¯ sort of soul pain. You¡¯ll only be burning badly for a few hours during and after each session. Not actually forever, mind you. It will merely feel that way. We might only need to do one session, too.¡±

    Mark steeled himself. ¡°I can handle pain.¡±

    Addashield said, ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± And then he stood up. ¡°Let¡¯s go get you burned from the inside out.¡±

    Mark tried to stand but he fell back onto the seat upon hearing ¡®burn from the inside out¡¯.

    Addashield was trying not to smirk.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, realizing something. ¡°You¡¯re fucking with me.¡±

    ¡°It feels more like knives than burning, yes. Though some people have called it ¡®burning like¡¯!¡±

    Mark had no words.

    Addashield nodded.

    And then the archmage led the way, his black half-cape swishing a little on his shoulders. He truly did remind Mark of a superhero, and Mark wondered if he was being too informal with the man. Was that why Addashield was fucking with Mark?

    Would it really hurt that bad?

    Mom and Dad had both told Mark to be on his absolute best behavior, to pretend like he was talking to the nobility of Daihoon (because he was!!!), and Mark had tried that at first, but rapidly he had devolved into simple politeness and solidity. Perhaps he should have researched more of that sort of stuff. Grandpa had a Xerkona/military background. Did that sort of thing count as polite?

    If so, then Mark was already doing some of that.

    Mark analyzed his own actions in his short interview over and over again, as Archmage Sloane Addashield walked down the hall of the administration building. Addashield didn¡¯t have an office here, or at least not a permanent one, but they had given him a temporary office in the back, and now Mark was walking behind the archmage, on his way to¡­ To do something?

    To get burned from the inside out?

    Right now?

    In this here building? At this here hour?

    Right now?

    Mark was feeling a lot of emotions.

    - - - -

    Somehow, Mark found himself stepping into the full scan machine that he had already used the last time he had been here at Orange Arcanaeum. The machine looked much the same. Two big metal plates, one on the floor and one on the ceiling. A wall with a window on it, like in an x-ray room, held to one side of the full scan room. Computers and junk lay separated from the machine by the wall.

    Somehow, Addashield had told Mark that this was happening right now.

    And Mark was somehow agreeing to everything. To a sort-of apprenticeship. To having his mana veins¡­ burned out, or whatever it was they were doing. And now some woman rushed into the room, and that woman was wearing white and gold, and she was arguing with Addashield in the most polite way she could that everything was happening too fast.

    ¡°I¡¯m on a time crunch, Lola,¡± Addashield said, like a normal person in a time crunch, and not like an archmage who could rip apart the entire school if he wanted, ¡°And the boy qualifies.¡±

    Priestess Lola Turner (How did Mark know her full name? Had it been said somewhere else?) was an actual priest of the goddess Freyala, who had gone as far as to take the goddess¡¯s mortal last name as her own last name. That meant she was up there in that clergy. Pretty high up, actually. Mark had no idea how high up because he seemed to know less and less as the day went on, but he knew Lola Turner was high up in the ranks.

    Priestess Lola held herself still, her hands in her sleeves as she regarded Addashield, acting like so much more of a Daihoon noble than Addashield seemed capable of acting. She spoke softly, ¡°And I must insist that the goddess requires an interview with Mister Careed in order to participate in this sort of action.¡±

    She had danced around her insistence for a little bit, Mark was sure, but he was currently freaking out that all these big decisions were happening right now, so Mark didn¡¯t really catch her insistences until they were plainly stated.

    Addashield frowned at her. ¡°You¡¯re really not just going to go along with my request, are you?¡±

    With perfect poise, Lola did a little curtsy, saying, ¡°I will gladly go along with all of your reasonable requests, Archmage Addashield, defender of humanity.¡±

    She didn¡¯t even put any stress on the word ¡®reasonable¡¯.

    Mark was pretty sure the stress was there, though, even if it was just implied.

    Mark was impressed, and a bit envious. The archmage had made it pretty clear that if Mark passed all of this, then he¡¯d be a pseudo-apprentice, and though Mark had no idea what that really meant, he knew it meant connections. Connections were a power all their own, but mostly they were yet another terror. Monsters were fun to fight and kill! Mark loved his life plan.

    He was rather terrified of all of the parts surrounding his life plan, like dealing with other people.

    But it was a terror that he was excited to experience.

    He imagined taking tea in ceremonies in noble houses on Daihoon, in meeting enemies and making them into friends, in killing the biggest monsters around and saving villages. Daihoon seemed so mystical and cool, but it required the best sorts of magic to thrive outside of the cities, and that was where Mark wanted to thrive most of all.

    So that¡¯s why he spoke up in the middle of the Archmage and the Priestess, saying, ¡°I want to be able to see the world and save everyone who needs saving. I would greatly appreciate Freyala¡¯s assistance in this matter, Priestess Lola.¡± Mark bowed, holding his stomach to keep his guts from spilling out of his mouth.

    Maybe bowing wasn¡¯t the proper thing to do, but it allowed Mark to look at feet instead of faces.

    He saw Addashield¡¯s black robes swish this way and that as he said, ¡°See! The boy wants this. Freyala would want this, too.¡±

    Lola¡¯s lower half barely adjusted in any direction at all. ¡°The boy has no idea what he is asking for. He will be in so much pain¡ª¡±

    Mark stood straight, saying, ¡°I know what I want, Priestess Lola, and I will walk through fire to get it.¡±

    Perhaps it had been a mistake to stand up, for Mark saw Addashield¡¯s eyes regard him in a way that he hadn¡¯t regarded him before, while Lola looked¡­ completely calm. Was calm bad? Calm seemed bad. Had Mark overstepped?

    Yeah.

    Addashield said, ¡°Step outside, boy. We¡¯ll call you back in shortly.¡±

    Mark got gone.

 009

    Mark threw up in the bathroom down the hall and then he washed his mouth out a few times as he stared in the mirror. Had he really interrupted Priestess Lola? Had Addashield called him ¡®boy¡¯? FUCK. Oh fuck he had fucked up so ba¡ª

    Mark made it back to the toilet just before he puked again. After a steadying moment, he went back to the sink and washed his mouth out. Again. He was the only one in the bathroom, and he was glad for that.

    With a stare into the mirror, Mark settled his nerves as best he could. A few water splashes on the face helped clear away the redness in his eyes, and then he dried his face with scratchy paper towels and walked out into the hallway.

    The door to the full scan room was over there, to the right, while the hallway ahead of him had a few benches sitting against the wall, facing the windows. Mark sat down and looked out across the campus. Anything to take his mind off of what was happening behind that door over there.

    Orange Arcanaeum was a whole bunch of coliseum-sized towers, set here and there, with grass hills and stone walkways scattered between them all. The curtain wall in the far distance looked more like a steady rise of grass than any real wall, but that was just the inside-view of the wall. The outside of the wall was an overhang of a stone cliff.

    Beyond that lay the city, with much more normal high-rises and otherwise.

    Mark imagined taking classes here.

    Of becoming one of the students that walked between classes, robes on their bodies and chatter with their friends surrounding them. Addashield had said that if Mark didn¡¯t want his full adamantiumkinesis Talent option, that he would get a full arcanaeum scholarship due to his family history with a family business that was dependent on specific magics.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s not a bad consolation prize,¡± Mark said, feeling giddy about a full ride.

    Mark definitely wanted the metalkinesis option. A full Talent was better than a whole bunch of different, 10% strength magics. Or at least that¡¯s what common wisdom told him. A full Talent in metalkinesis and healing magics, through Freyala? That was the stuff of dreams. That was the stuff upon which the center of an adventuring team could be founded.

    Did people with two Talents even exist?

    They must!

    Holy shit!

    If Mark ended up getting this Addashield option, then he could party with Sally, and the two of them could go see the world together. Sally would probably try to find a girlfriend to bring into the team, and that was fine, but Mark would need to get a fourth person just so he didn¡¯t feel like a third wheel.

    Sally would probably make good decisions about a girlfriend, and she wouldn¡¯t take just anyone, so what would that girlfriend¡¯s power look like? What would best support the team?

    ¡­ What would they already have going for them? Sally would be a brawny with War magics, and Mark would be a kineticist with Healing magics, so a third person would be¡­ Some sort of support? A technopath? Or a telepath? Or maybe¡ª

    Oh!

    Mark would make some contacts through this Addashield-business, for sure, so maybe some noble that wanted to tag along and who fell in love with Sally? Sure. That seemed reasonable. So maybe that increased the available level of possible third persons. Maybe the third person could be, like¡­

    A Seer.

    Oh oh oh! A Seer! YES!

    Those were pretty rare and very useful. Incredibly useful.

    So yeah. A Seer as a third person.

    Who would Mark get as a fourth, though?

    Mark stared at the ceiling, thinking, and so very desperately trying not to think about how he might have screwed up absolutely everything, and how Addashield might deny him his full ride as a second option.

    Focus on the possible good, Mark!

    A while later, Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure, the door opened to the full scan room.

    Mark¡¯s entire world focused back to the present as he once again saw Priestess Lola and Archmage Addashield standing there. He hopped to his feet and stood ready for whatever.

    Lola said, ¡°Do not be charmed by the words of demons, spit through the mouths of archmages, Mark Careed. This will hurt. It will change your entire life. You will not have other options after this. Do you still choose this path of metal and healing?¡±

    The world condensed down to the only path that Mark wanted to walk, and then all the rest that he cast away.

    Mark resolutely said, ¡°I choose the path of Metal and Healing, roused through pain and solidified through the Awakening of the Tutorial.¡±

    Mark had thought those words were pretty good.

    Addashield seemed to approve, since an eyebrow ticked up a little.

    Lola was more reserved. ¡°Your resolve, while commendable, will harm you. You are aware that Archmage Addashield, though he is an avowed Hero of Humanity, is using you? That he needs to fulfill a contract with his demon, this year, in the next five months?¡±

    ¡°I am aware of that,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°You are under Curtain Protocol. This will rip some of that, then repair the Curtain, seeding the stage for what Addashield wants. That ripping is dangerous. With great luck, you will go into the Tutorial merely weakened, your body mostly healed from the mana alignment that Archmage Addashield wishes done today. You will not be at your best, and Addashield will not save you in the Tutorial, should you need saving. His agreements with Malaqua to enter the Tutorial space do not allow him to rescue the people he accompanies.¡±

    Mark let her say what she needed to say, but both of them knew she wasn¡¯t swaying him at all. When she was done, Mark still stood resolute. The fact that everyone knew what Addashield was doing was dangerous and improper, but that they were still letting it happen, let Mark know that this was okay. On some level, this was okay. This letting some country bumpkin sign his life up with the Archmage was an acceptable level of risk to all involved.

    Mark wasn¡¯t naive, thinking that the people above him in the social pecking order were saints, or anything. People in power were just as likely to fuck him over as anyone else, really. Or at least that¡¯s what the stories said.

    But he trusted a Hero of Humanity.

    Mark said, ¡°I trust that at the end of this, when I complete the Tutorial, I¡¯ll get Adamantiumkinesis and Healing magics, or just Metalkinesis and some Chosen duties required of me by Freyala. I don¡¯t really care about whatever political things are happening past that.¡±

    Lola looked ready to say something¡ª

    Addashield spoke up first, ¡°And you¡¯ll visit the demons I show to you, and you¡¯ll deny them, or make your own pact that mirrors my own. That¡¯s what I¡¯m doing this for, Mark. That¡¯s what you have to ultimately agree to do for me. If we get to the end of this and you succeed, then I¡¯m dragging you in front of them and you won¡¯t like it if I have to drag you.¡±

    Lola¡¯s eyes remained on Mark, though she was giving Addashield a pretty stern side-eye.

    Mark asked, ¡°I assume it takes a lot more than a meeting and talking to do the demonic-pact thing that archmages do? I really don¡¯t know anything about that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a summoning circle sort of thing,¡± Addashield said. ¡°You have that sort of idea in your shows over here, I know you do. What I do is open the portal with a binding agreement circle, using the same wordings and otherwise of my own Contract, which is on record in Archmage Hall in Temple¡ª I think you have it on the internet over here. The demons gather in the circle, begging you to take them, and unless you cross the circle of your own, purposeful initiative, the demons cannot bind with you. Demons lie about everything to get a physical body, and¡ª And we¡¯ll go over all of that closer to go-time. It¡¯s a whole big lesson. One of many I will be giving you and three other applicants, so far.¡±

    Lola bristled. Her calm demeanor shattered, her eyes glinting gold. ¡°Three others?!¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Addashield said, unrepentant. Lola seemed about ready to say something unkind, or furious, but Addashield glared in the lightest, darkest of ways, and Lola pulled back, as though she had been slapped without being actually slapped. Addashield¡¯s tone changed to something filled with warning, ¡°I have needed to do this before and I do not doubt I will need to do this again, but I would prefer this kid to have an anchor in his life that is not me, for when this is over and my duty is discharged, he will need some sort of guidance that is not me. What better guidance is there than Freyala? Now! Do you want a possible High Paladin in this boy? Or should I contact Hearthswell?¡±

    Lola was still, quiet.

    Mark was breathless. A paladin? The centerpiece of all adventuring teams out on Daihoon? The killers of kaiju? And even some dragons? That was so much better than an adamantium mage, or whatever it was he was going to be, thanks to Addashield. That was amaz¡ª

    Addashield looked to Mark. ¡°Pick a different god. This one isn¡¯t helping us¡ª¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Freyala will do this,¡± Lola said. ¡°I¡­ I just need a minute to pray.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I need a minute to explain some things to Mark.¡± Addashield thumbed at the door while looking at Mark. ¡°Inside.¡±

    Mark went inside the room and Lola went somewhere else. Maybe he could have seen where she went, but he was kinda nervous again.

    - - - -

    Mark sat on a chair in front of Addashield, who stood two meters away. Because of Addashield¡¯s instructions, Mark had his knees slightly open, with his hands on his knees and palms facing upward.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you a bit about magic, and you are going to listen, and then I¡¯m going to close the Curtain again and let the seed lay in fertile soil,¡± Addashield said, as he pulled back the sleeves of his black robes.

    Black metal bracers held on his forearms, like solid wraps of darkness. Mark could only tell they were metal because they reflected the lights of the room in small ways when the light hit them just right.

    Mark had read up on Addashield before this meeting. Exact information beyond the public sphere was rare, but Addashield¡¯s Powers were documented and categorized. His magic was rather well known, too, but all of those internet searches had come up with the standard warning for magic-learning; don¡¯t read any more if you¡¯re under 18. Mark had been so very tempted to read more, but he pulled back from that edge.

    So all Mark really knew were Addashield¡¯s lists of accomplishments. He routinely eradicated kaiju-level threats against Orange City and other cities all across this world and Daihoon, and he regularly chased off dragons, which were like kaijus but with a brain. His magic was esoteric and varied, but he was primarily a metalkinetic, and his preferred metal was adamantium.

    Adamantium was a hard black metal. The hardest, blackest metal in the two worlds, actually.

    Black adamantium swirled upon Addashield¡¯s left bracer and the tiniest drop lifted up, forming a fingernail-sized marble. Addashield hovered the marble over his open palm, and the marble shifted into a star, then a wireframe box, then a circle, and then a needle. It shifted endlessly, into shapes and bubbles and abstract burbles of strange geometries. Mark stared at the burbling, at the shapes, and felt weirdly entranced.

    ¡°Tell me the first thing you know about magic,¡± Addashield instructed.

    Mark thought as fast as he could. ¡°It¡¯s limited.¡±

    ¡°Incorrect. Tell me another thing you know.¡±

    Mark struggled under that first fact. Magic wasn¡¯t limited? What? Perhaps he would have continued to think about that, but Addashield¡¯s eyes burned into him, drawing Mark¡¯s attention away from the geometric designs of floating metal, and Mark tried to think again.

    Mark said, ¡°Using magic weakens you.¡±

    ¡°Incorrect. Tell me another thing you know.¡±

    Mark breathed in sharply. Using magic didn¡¯t weaken you? What? No. Dad always looked weaker after using his fish-pull too much, and even the strongest brawny out there, Glorious Man, couldn¡¯t go full-strength against a kaiju all day long. He took breaks, too.

    Addashield didn¡¯t like letting Mark think about anything at the moment, and his floating drop of metal was turning into weirder shapes, like spirals and bone-hands, so very small and yet perfectly articulated and grasping. Shouldn¡¯t making little bone hands have cost him a lot of attention? Apparently not. His eyes were focused on Mark.

    Insistent.

    Flickering with depths that Mark had never seen in a pair of eyes before.

    Mark said, ¡°Uh¡ª The normal categories of Tutorial-granted Powers are Brawny, Shaper, Mind, Spiritual, Arcane, and Arch.¡±

    Addashield didn¡¯t simply dismiss Mark¡¯s words. Instead, he said, ¡°Mostly correct, but only because that is the world as you know it, ever since Malaqua ascended to godhood in his capture of the Demon Moon City, Arakino. I was there. I helped him capture Arakino.

    ¡°Before the Reveal, before the meeting of the two worlds, the smash of Earth into Daihoon, no child was named before they turned 12 and finished the Thresher. That¡¯s what the Tutorial used to be called; one of many, many different names. Many children died from it. It was the greatest horror of our world. It was the greatest boon we could hope for.

    ¡°The dragons controlled us, the monsters always threatened, and the demons preyed upon our dependency in order to survive at all.

    ¡°The only way through all of that was with power that never stopped. That is what the Thresher granted us. It did not give us the limited power of mana and magic. The Thresher, the Demon City of Arakino, gave us True Power. That is what you reach for when you reach for the Tutorial. You, who have lived a life of simple ease of fishing and schoolwork and being allowed to go into the Tutorial at 18, instead of being forced into it at 12. This is all thanks to the sacrifices of your elders. You, who were born into this world of plenty, have no idea the depths of the sacrifices made so that people like you can live on in this world of plenty. You do not know the sacrifices we continue to make.

    ¡°But you will.

    ¡°For you are now called upon to continue the chain of thankless help, so that people you will never know will be able to live a life better than the one you were granted by your own elders.

    ¡°Will you take up the sword, as millions have before you?¡±

    Mark felt as though his eyes were open for the first time. He looked upon Addashield, flicking that adamantium magic into shapes before him, and he saw a hero.

    Mark said, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°This is going to hurt, and healing will not stop the pain.¡±

    Addashield¡¯s adamantium droplet shattered into a hundred needles, all of them instantly driving into Mark¡¯s body, slipping into his clothes, slipping into his skin. He closed his eyes, and what he felt was like a cold breeze. He imagined the pain was going to come any second now, so he relaxed into it¡ª

    His bones locked in place.

    Mark did not struggle against anything at all. He didn¡¯t even breathe.

    Mark just sat there, his bones feeling like someone was grabbing onto him from the inside, in a way that he hoped to never feel again, waiting for pain.

    ¡­ Waiting for pain.

    ¡­ Where was the pain now?

    Oh god oh god Mark fucking hated the anticipation¡­

    And yet, the awaited pain never came.

    Slowly, surely, Mark started to breathe again, and he could move his ribs just fine.

    Mark breathed, and¡­ there was no pain?

    Mark opened his eyes.

    Addashield was studying him from afar, like a professor might study a student¡¯s homework, wondering what to make of it all. He looked at Mark¡¯s legs, then shoulders, then chest, and finally Mark¡¯s eyes. Curiously, Addashield asked, ¡°No pain?¡±

    ¡°I felt cold for a second?¡±

    Addashield grinned, chuckling, as he said, ¡°Good! That¡¯s very good! Stand up and walk around some!¡±

    Mark tentatively got to his feet, and he felt¡­ fine? He moved his arms around and walked around his chair, feeling¡­ ¡°Completely normal?¡±

    The archmage giggled a little, saying, ¡°Amazing! You¡¯re a¡ª Have you told anyone about this sort of arrangement yet? About you coming here?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ My parents, my friend.¡± Mark was wary. ¡°Uh. Others?¡±

    Addashield nodded. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Tell them that today was painful. Do not tell anyone that this was painless. What I just did to you was imbue your bones with adamantium¡ª Do you know what adamantium is?¡±

    ¡°Er¡­ I have no idea what any of that really means, but I do know about adamantium.¡±

    Addashield hummed, and then he explained anyway, ¡°Adamantium is one of the strongest metals known to man and monster. It¡¯s also a bio-metal. Long tale shortened: your body will naturally produce adamantium from now on. Maybe a fingernail¡¯s worth per year. That amount of adamantium is enough to produce the edge of one tier 7 sword-edge per year. The biometal you make will form the basis of your metalkinesis, limiting you most severely in the amount of metal you can control ¡ªyou likely won¡¯t be able to control anything but adamantium for decades¡ª but even a needle of adamantium will allow you to hit far above your tier.¡±

    Mark looked at his hands, and wasn¡¯t sure what to say, other than, ¡°Neat!¡±

    Addashield laughed. ¡°Yes yes. You have no idea what any of that really means. That¡¯s fine. You¡¯re a true Blank Canvas.¡±

    ¡°Uh? What?¡±

    ¡°Well you¡¯re not a Blank Canvas any more. I overcame your natural resistances quite handily, and now your resistances are all different; I buried the seed behind the Curtain, in common parlance.¡± Addashield easily said, ¡°Anyway. What I was saying was this: Don¡¯t tell people that today was painless. Those who know about these things will know that you produce adamantium now, and in rather good quantities. Enough to line two normal swords per year, or half of a kaiju blade. This is NOT NORMAL for an adamantiumkinetic. This happens a lot with mithrilkinetics, though. Cities in Daihoon need a lot more than a single adamantium-edged sword to survive, but one adamantium sword is enough to start, and you are now a farm for the stuff. Good news / bad news; you are literally priceless as a living person.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡± Addashield smirked, saying, ¡°Now we just gotta get Lola back in here and doing her job. I¡¯m going to go find her. You stay here.¡±

    Addashield went off to find Lola.

    And Mark looked at his hands in the meantime. A smile came to his face as he imagined holding up a needle of black metal and floating it around like Dad did with his fishclips, like Addashield did with that drop he had stuck into Mark¡¯s bone marrow. If all it took was one edge of adamantium to coat a sword that could defend a city¡­

    Mark grinned.

    He hadn¡¯t known any of that at the start of today, before making the decision to accept Addashield¡¯s offer just an hour ago. But it was all good news, wasn¡¯t it? The part about how he was somehow producing a metal in his bone marrow that was worth more than gold was a bit concerning, but¡­

    Er.

    Did Addashield expect to be paid back? He had stuffed some metal into Mark¡¯s body and now his body made metal, so¡­ Did Addashield want his goldleaf back?

    Er.

    No, not really, right? Mark was paying him back in talking to the demons after this was all over, yeah?

    ¡­ And mages had that whole ¡®apprentices are indentured servants¡¯ thing, didn¡¯t¡ª

    Addashield came back into the room with Priestess Lola, saying, ¡°You can sit back down, Mark.¡±

    Lola looked resigned and yet perfectly poised. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how she managed to pull that off, but that¡¯s what she looked like. She had some pretty strict Xerkona training, didn¡¯t she?

    Lola said, ¡°Please sit.¡±

    Mark sat back down.

    Lola said, ¡°Hands to your knees and palms up, in the normal manner.¡±

    Mark rapidly complied.

    Lola said, ¡°I am glad to see you passed through Addashield¡¯s flavoring with minimal damage. But this will hurt.¡±

    She breathed in¡ª

    Mark passed out from the pain.

 010

    For a long moment, Lola Turner stared at the boy¡¯s slumped body, laying on the ground. And then she continued to breathe, her focus completely diverted from imbuing Mark to healing him. As she breathed, he breathed, and pain abated.

    Addashield smirked to the side, the absolute bastard of an archmage looking way too smug. ¡°Hit him again. It didn¡¯t take well enough and he¡¯s unconscious anyway.¡±

    Lola glared, breathing for both herself and Mark right now. She said nothing.

    Addashield quirked an eyebrow at her. ¡°What? He¡¯s not that injured, is he?¡±

    Lola judged Mark healed through breath enough, so she switched to blood healing, her heart beating in rhythm to Mark¡¯s own beating, and he began to heal at a steadier rate. As the repair of Mark¡¯s body began in truth, Lola allowed herself to use her breath for speaking. ¡°How much did you do to him before I got in here?¡±

    ¡°The normal amount. He took to it quite well. Barely any pain at all. As you saw.¡±

    The old bastard was lying to her, somehow.

    Lola was a priestess of Freyala, but she was also an Inquisitor, and she had seen too much shit go down between demons and unwary mages and uneducated kids to feel comfortable around Addashield. He was absolutely taking advantage of Mark Careed in ways that Mark had no idea he was being used. Mark probably didn¡¯t know what a ¡®paladin¡¯ truly was. All he knew was what the popular media told him. He didn¡¯t know about the archmage hunts, or the true nature of dragons, or the real duty of the ¡®paladins¡¯ against the Fallen. If he had, he would have glanced between her and Addashield and looked worried.

    The boy was clearly uneducated in the finer points of nobility, so it wasn¡¯t that he could school his features to nothing. He simply didn¡¯t know what he didn¡¯t know.

    It was just her luck that she was on duty today instead of any of the others in her order, here at Orange Arcanaeum. It was just her luck that her prayers to Freyala had resulted in Her Goddess telling her to follow the archmage¡¯s plan, and to prepare as the Inquisitors always did against demon mages of all sorts.

    She had already contacted the Collective and verified that they knew that Addashield was on a backup plan, and that they were fully on board his backup plan. In the grand scheme of life here on the Two Worlds, it literally didn¡¯t matter if Addashield ended up killing some kids in the pursuit of this backup. Addashield with an intact Contract with his demon was preferred in so many different ways.

    Addashield¡¯s previous apprentice¡¯s death was unfortunate in so many different ways.

    And now Mark was suffering from that tragedy.

    Lola continued to link her healing heart to Mark¡¯s, the boy¡¯s body repairing itself in small ways, as she breathed for both of them at the same time, thinking.

    Addashield waited.

    And then Addashield frowned a little. He sighed. ¡°Please get on with the rest of the imbuement, Paladin Lola, otherwise you¡¯re just torturing the boy.¡±

    Lola did not glare at Addashield at the mention of ¡®torturing the boy¡¯. She put away her personal feelings and did as her Goddess commanded.

    She opened her mind to the boy, to the spark of electricity that danced inside her soul as Freyala made it dance.

    Mark¡¯s insensate body writhed on the floor.

    - - - -

    Darkness.

    Voices in the dark.

    Someone complaining. A hand on his hand. Yelling.

    Something stank.

    Wet cloth on his body, wiping him down. Cold, warm, then cold again.

    More washing.

    Repeat.

    Repeat.

    Repeat.

    - - - -

    Mark woke up with the worst headache he had ever had. His eyes were crossed. His hands shook. His body felt wet. Why did his body feel wet?

    A machine beeped beside him, and each beep was like a knife driven into his skull over and over and over again. Every moment of being awake was yet another knife in his flesh, a punch to his brain. His eyes hurt.

    He started to say something, to scream, perhaps. People rushed around him. Someone said something soft, and yet those small words split Mark in half and then stomped on the pieces. He screamed. That time he screamed, and he knew it. Someone yelled something about morphine and Mark wanted all of the morphine ever.

    Perhaps he even said as much.

    Oblivion closed in.

    - - - -

    Darkness.

    Voices in the dark.

    A hand on his hand.

    Television shows playing. Laughter. The smells of good food.

    A hand on his hand, holding him.

    Wet cloth on his body, wiping him down.

    Something stank.

    More washing.

    Repeat.

    Repeat.

    Repeat.

    Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

    Repeat. Repeat.

    Repeat.

    - - - -

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Mark woke softly, to the annoying buzzing of a television that was on, but also muted.

    It was an electrical noise.

    Mark felt soft.

    ¡­ and then he began to wake more. He remembered some sort of pain, but there was no pain right now.

    He couldn¡¯t really move at all, but there was no pain. Just lethargy.

    He was in his room at home, with the carpet and the sky blue walls and the window with the big oak tree outside, but stuff had been moved around. A hospital machine sat beside him on a stand, tubes connecting to his arm, and to his wrist. His bookshelf was shoved to the side¡ª

    Archmage Addashield was in the room. He was sitting on a chair to the side, reading a book, but he looked up when Mark looked up. He grinned. ¡°Ah! Welcome back, Mark.¡± He put his book away. ¡°There¡¯s good news and bad news. Are you able to hear it all?¡±

    Mark blinked out and sat up¡ª

    He couldn¡¯t sit up. He remained laying down, and now he felt winded.

    Groggily, he said, ¡°What?¡±

    And then he realized he had some sort of thing in his¡­ He felt something down there. He didn¡¯t want to think about it.

    There were tubes.

    Mark was tied up to tubes on his own bed, but one hand wasn¡¯t tied up. That free hand was pale. Blue veins were visible under the skin.

    ¡°¡­ What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot, Mark,¡± Addashield said, ¡°Good News: the most recent full scan, as of two days ago, revealed that you¡¯ll Awaken with a dual metalkinetic and healing Power, as soon as you go through the Tutorial. Pretty strong ones, too. If I wasn¡¯t in a time crunch, I¡¯d want to take you as a true apprentice, because I won¡¯t have to do anything to you inside the Tutorial to make that happen. You¡¯ll get there all on your own. Maybe I¡¯ll catch up with you in a few years and teach you a few things, if you¡¯re not too furious with me.

    ¡°Bad News: I am in a time crunch and you¡¯ve been in a healing coma for the last 107 days. Your birthday is tomorrow, and you need to be conscious now so you don¡¯t wake up and accidentally accept the Tutorial in some sort of delirium tomorrow. You really could stand to be in the coma for another month, at least, but that would be inadvisable, and so, I asked to be here for when you wake up, so I¡¯m here.

    ¡°I¡¯m taking my other 3 apprentice options and hopefully one of them gets metalkinesis. Maybe adamantiumkinesis, too, but I¡¯m not ¡®holding my breath¡¯, as you Earthlings say.

    ¡°Other Bad News: You¡¯ll be a year healing from what we did to you. Turns out you lucked out hard in some ways, and failed a lot in others. Don¡¯t let that discourage you.¡± Addashield set an envelope on a small table beside Mark¡¯s bed. ¡°I wrote it all down there. Good luck, Mark. You¡¯ll do well. Just gotta get back up on your feet. Take the time to get your GED. Train your body again. When you¡¯re ready, if this hasn¡¯t overly injured you, then take the Tutorial and be the best version of yourself. This is just a minor setback. Good luck. Goodbye.¡±

    Addashield got up and started to walk¡ª

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Mark said, as strongly as he could, which was still rather weak. He wanted more time to know what had happened, but Addashield was busy and¡­ And Mark understood enough. ¡°Thanks for trying.¡±

    Addashield smiled softly, and then he floated a small cube of black metal onto the counter next to Mark¡¯s bed, saying, ¡°I know paying you for your injury doesn¡¯t make it right, but I¡¯ve always found that bribery at least softens the sting of loss, and your parents weren¡¯t taking the bribe at all. Maybe you will? Good luck on your Tutorial, Mark.¡± He stared at Mark. ¡°Don¡¯t attempt the Tutorial for at least 6 months. Probably a lot longer than that.¡±

    Mark mostly stared at the ceiling, nodding. ¡°Thank you for trying.¡±

    Addashield nodded and walked out.

    Minutes later Mom rushed in, followed by Dad.

    Mark tried to smile as he held his parents, both of them sobbing, but while Mark¡¯s parents were happy he was awake again, Mark was disappointed in himself. Nothing felt real in that moment, and especially not the loss of 4 months of life. Had that much time really passed? Why was Mom crying so much, and why was Dad trying to smile so much through his tears. It had only been a half a day since Mark had seen them last.

    Except no.

    He knew how long it had been.

    The darkness had been filled with half-dreams that were not dreams at all, and the oak tree outside was laden with the bright green leaves of Spring. Those leaves should have been dark green, or even partially discarded. But no. Those were bright green Spring leaves.

    Mark found himself muttering into Mom¡¯s shoulder, ¡°It¡¯s really been a hundred days?¡±

    Mom was loving and furious as she held him, spitting, ¡°That fucking Addashield shouldn¡¯t have pushed you into this! He had no right! He had no¡ª¡±

    ¡°But I wanted it, Mom,¡± Mark said, ¡°I wanted it.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°Oh baby. You didn¡¯t know¡ª¡±

    ¡°He told me what would happen. I didn¡¯t know it would be this bad but¡­¡± Mark was feeling tired again. He had only just woken up and he was already closing his eyes again. ¡°He told me something like this could happen.¡± He almost told her that he was still going to take the Tutorial in 6 months, or as fast as he could get back up to full strength, but he knew that would lead to a fight. So with a strained smile, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s for dinner?¡±

    Mom started laughing and Dad did, too.

    Mark said, ¡°Or maybe I can try walking around some, first.¡±

    It turned out that Mark could not, in fact, walk around at all. He couldn¡¯t even sit up in bed.

    He still tried.

    He gave up after five minutes. By then, Mark recognized a lot more of the room, and how much it had changed. There was a feeding-tube-thing sitting unused in a corner of the room, and then a breathing machine with a bellows, or whatever it was, sitting under a glass case on top of the cream-colored box of lights and buttons. The lights and buttons were off, but Mark vaguely recalled the sounds of beeping, and he felt a rash on his face and a soreness in his throat that was unfamiliar. He had missed the soreness until now, until all the other weakness in his body was cataloged and set aside as not-important-right-now.

    And then there was the catheter in his dick.

    It was the least of his indignities. Mark felt dirtier than ever before. His hair was greasy, his body stank, and he suddenly remembered grandpa, sitting in a hospital bed just like this one, down the hall outside of his bedroom, hooked up to machines just like the ones sitting in the corner. Grandpa always tried to be independent, even toward the end. Mark remembered him talking about ¡®indignities¡¯ most of all. Of how he had needed help to get into the shower every day, before it got really bad and he couldn¡¯t get into the shower at all.

    Remembering that was when Mark started to cry.

    Mom and Dad were there, but Mark still felt alone.

    By then, something weird was happening with his lips and his mouth. He couldn¡¯t speak anymore. He kinda just lay there in bed, feeling his body like it was a horrible heaviness. Mom called for someone else; Mark barely heard her, but he saw her turn and call to someone.

    A nurse was suddenly there, though Mark was sure she didn¡¯t just teleport. That would be crazy. She was a big woman, with big arms and a stern, yet kind face¡ª

    Mark blinked, and it was the afternoon, the spring-green oak turned to purple under twilight¡ª

    It was night and the stars twinkled beyond the branches of the tree¡ª

    The lights were on, and Mom and Dad were there with the nurse. The nurse breathed deeply, and then exhaled more, and for some reason it was truly odd to watch her work her big chest like a bellows. She calmed, and then said something small.

    Mom stood in Mark¡¯s view, saying, ¡°Honey, can you hear me?¡±

    Mark nodded, quizzically. He tried to move his lips, but he fumbled everything.

    Mom said, ¡°It¡¯s 8:12 AM, May 3rd. We¡¯re about 10 minutes from your 18th birthday. The Tutorial will come for you and you must deny it.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t an idiot. He still had his mind, somehow. He knew to deny the Tutorial.

    But wasn¡¯t that a private nurse? Weren¡¯t those expensive machines over there? How much did she actually cost¡ª

    ¡°Mark. Mark!¡± Mom said. ¡°Can you hear me?¡±

    Mark nodded, and that hurt to do. Everything hurt. They must have given him the good drugs to talk to Addashield yesterday.

    ¡°The Tutorial will be here in 3 minutes,¡± Mom said, her voice as solid as she could make it, her eyes crowded with tears. She begged, ¡°I need you to deny it, honey. Mark. Please listen to me.¡±

    The nurse said something and Mom had to restrain herself from rising in a fury. Mark could see that rising fury, he could hear it, too, though he couldn¡¯t make any sense of it.

    And then Dad was there, saying, ¡°Mark. Deny the Tutorial. You¡¯ll have time to heal and take it later¡ª¡±

    Mom said, ¡°NO! He can¡¯t do it! Not ever!¡±

    Suddenly, there were words floating in front of Mark.

    Mark Careed of Earth.

    You are 18 years of age and eligible for a pure mana baptism.

    Will you join the ranks of those who fight against the dangers of the Two Worlds?

    Will you take the Tutorial to awaken your power?

    Mark chuckled, or at least he tried. He seemed to be breathing fine, but breathing was outside of his control.

    Not yet, Mark thought at the floating words.

    The message changed.

    You will remain eligible for the Tutorial for as long as you remain baseline human.

    The Demon City of Arakino will call again in 30 days.

    The words vanished.

    Mark sighed out, closing his eyes.

    He heard his mother speaking softly, thankful, and the warmth of her hand gripping his. Dad said something about how fast Mark would heal once he started physical therapy.

    Mark wanted them to know that all he wanted right now was a bath, but that wasn¡¯t happening.

    A painful sleep claimed him.

 011

    Mark woke, ate gruel, and tried to move some.

    He managed to get out of the bed on the second day, but only because Dad was there to help him get up and around. It was mortifying. Mark wanted to take a shower, but he couldn¡¯t stand up in the enclosure on his own, and he didn¡¯t want Dad in there holding him up. They had needed to do that for grandpa when he was getting bad, and Mark was having nightmares about that happening to him.

    Mark got a sponge bath instead, thanks to Mom and her cleansing waters.

    Mark tried to complain, but Mom shut him down.

    ¡°Oh please. I cleaned your bum when you were a baby and for the last few months! Ain¡¯t nothing I haven¡¯t seen before.¡±

    ¡°Jesus fucking Christ, Mom.¡±

    Mom just laughed, and then she said, ¡°Lift the arms!¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t lift his arms.

    Mom lifted them for him.

    Dad moved a television screen into the room, along with two chairs, so that they could all watch television together in the evening. It was nice. They had apparently ¡®watched television with him¡¯ a lot, like this.

    Mark mostly fell asleep through the shows, though.

    - - - -

    ¡°I was so present with the archmage, though,¡± Mark asked the nurse, on the third day, as she was sitting with him. ¡°How come I¡¯m like¡­ like this?¡±

    The nurse¡¯s name was Molly and she was a healer for the Church of Freyala, so ¡®sitting with him¡¯ was more like ¡®actively healing him¡¯. Mark still didn¡¯t understand what she was doing, exactly, and he tried not to think too much about it and thus ruin his chances at a good Tutorial. He still wanted actual power, perhaps now more than ever, though none of this felt real.

    Molly spoke without looking up from her book, ¡°The Archmage demanded we heal you well enough for a good talking, and that¡¯s what we did. He¡¯s a right bastard for doing this to you, but I guess you forgave him, eh?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­ tarnish his reputation, or something like that, did I?¡±

    Molly raised an eyebrow and looked at Mark. ¡°He did that himself, and yes, there was a¡­ tarnishing. What he did fell under baseline-meddling anti-experimentation laws. The fact that you agreed to it doesn¡¯t matter¡­¡± She sat back in her chair. ¡°But it does make it easier on him that you dropped all charges. Or at least that¡¯s what he told everyone, and they believe him.¡±

    ¡°Did one of the other¡­¡± Mark lost his words. ¡°One of the other¡­ student people? Make it? Tutorial?¡±

    Wow, Mark¡¯s words were fucked up.

    Molly said, ¡°Not to my knowledge. I can find out if you want.¡±

    ¡°Please.¡±

    Molly took out her phone and started typing away.

    Mark whispered, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Mark closed his eyes.

    News of the other pseudo-apprentices escaped him.

    Addashield had another month before he needed to put people through the Tutorial though, right?

    Maybe.

    Mark¡¯s memories were fucked up right now.

    - - - -

    A week after waking, Mark managed to stand in the shower himself, though he did have to hold onto the rails that they had installed for grandpa, and he had to sit on the thick bench that was there for much the same reason.

    He got to relax under the warm water and feel it wash away the grime from his body. Sponge baths were a stopgap measure. This was where real cleanliness began.

    As Mark felt the water wash down his face, he felt almost human again.

    He stayed there for a while. Eventually, Dad called into the bathroom, asking if he needed help. Mark couldn¡¯t shut the bathroom door because he was a fall risk, so Dad stood just outside of the door to talk to him.

    ¡°I¡¯m good, Dad. I¡¯m just enjoying the water.¡±

    Dad¡¯s voice sounded happy as he said, ¡°Good! Let me know if you need help.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good for now, Dad. Thanks.¡±

    It was a struggle to raise and lower his arms, and to bend over to clean himself up, but he managed well enough. A sponge on the end of a stick could solve a lot of problems. When he was done, he tried to dry off, but that simply wasn¡¯t happening.

    That¡¯s when he called for Dad.

    After some more moments of embarrassment, Mark gripped his walker in his hands and shuffled down the hallway, to the living room. It was too soon for physical therapy, but maybe next week. Mark was eager to get back to it, but he wasn¡¯t sure what ¡®it¡¯ was. Rugby season was gone and so was school; Mark had missed almost all of it. Half of his classmates were either studying for finals or they had taken their GED tests and either gone through Tutorial or went right to arcanaeum.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Sally was already on Daihoon, and Mark still hadn¡¯t been able to contact her properly.

    The split between childhood and adulthood was the largest divisor in the world. On one side, you had the Curtain Protocol, intended to give kids the best chance at making a good future for themselves, and on the other side you had the Open Magic policy, which was where people didn¡¯t guard their words for fear of ruining their children¡¯s futures with mana impurities. That split wasn¡¯t so solid over on Daihoon where it was impossible to keep magic from kids, but it was an entrenched policy here on Earth, and Mark was very much a child in the eyes of society.

    Sally had moved on.

    To hear Mom talk of it, Sally had shown up a few times when Mark was in a coma. She had written letters for him to read when he woke up, too, and Mark had read them, but Sally was firmly an adult now and Mark was still a child. Mark needed to catch up before they could share anything real, ever again.

    He missed Sally.

    He missed rugby, too. Adam, Chase, Voshon, Cody. The other guys on the team.

    Gods damn, he missed running, and picking up his spear, and grabbing the ball. He missed training. He hadn¡¯t bothered to look at the Tutorial statistics for this year, but he wanted to¡­ And yet he didn¡¯t. Only 10% of the student body went through the Tutorial, and the survival rate was not 100%. Mark didn¡¯t want to know who had died this year.

    Mark sat at the dinner table, looking down at a pile of mush that was rice and finely chopped vegetables and meat, and wondered about his life choices.

    He was not invincible.

    Mom had told him that many times before. It had been drilled into his head by his Tutorial instructors, at the school, mainly Instructor Gravel. Mark had never believed it, though. Not until today.

    Dinner was good.

    Mark managed to keep his emotions in check as he hobbled back to his room, gripping the railing in the hallway and his walker, feet shuffling and his body not moving how it should move at all.

    He crashed into his bed, his legs still on the ground, his body sprawled on the side of his mattress, unable to rise and get onto the bed itself.

    That¡¯s when he lost it, truly lost it.

    Mom and Dad were there and they helped, but not really. The healer, Molly, was gone now; they couldn¡¯t afford to keep paying her because the boat had needed big repairs and all of the rest of Mark¡¯s treatment was costing them too much money. Mom had refused to use Addashield¡¯s drop of adamantium to pay for anything, and Dad had agreed. So it was just Mom and Dad and Mark, and Mark was inconsolable.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do the Tutorial eventually and pull adamantium out of me and pay for things,¡± Mark said, through the tears and the sorrow.

    This was the wrong thing to say.

    Mom held him tighter, crying, saying, ¡°No no. Honey. No. Don¡¯t do that. No¡ª¡±

    Dad was at Mark¡¯s back, saying, ¡°We¡¯ll sell Addashield¡¯s cube.¡±

    ¡°No. We can¡¯t take that bastard¡¯s¡ª¡± Mom began.

    Mark said, ¡°Sell it, Mom. Just do it. It¡¯s enough adamantium to save lives. Do it.¡± He didn¡¯t have the energy to tell her how it could save lives, but it was enough.

    Mom let the argument drop.

    Three days later, at dinner, Mom and Dad sat down with Mark, like usual.

    Mom said, ¡°We can¡¯t sell the cube. We¡¯d be kicked off of Basic Income and become ineligible for it for the rest of our lives, because that will be a $4.5 million windfall. What we can do is donate it to the city and we¡¯ll be upgraded to full citizens, eligible for free-everything from the government and a bunch of assistance in¡­ in a whole lot of ways.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Love it.¡±

    Mom kept explaining in an attempt to get Mark more on board with the idea, or maybe to rationalize it to herself, but Mark had already agreed and he could tell that she and Dad had talked at length about this. Mom continued to talk about about free physical therapy and boat repairs and even assistance with fixing up the house, but eventually she ran out of things to say.

    Mark said, ¡°Love it. Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    Mom frowned a little, saying, ¡°It¡¯s a whole lot less money than what we could have gotten.¡±

    ¡°The important thing is that the adamantium gets to people who can use it,¡± Mark said. ¡°That tiny cube is enough to coat¡­¡± Mark struggled with the words for a moment before he found them. ¡°Enough to edge a sword that can kill a tier¡­ tier 6? Monster? Not sure what that means. Addashield said something more about a half of a kaiju-blade or something, but I forget.¡±

    Dad breathed deep, his eyes going wide. ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    Mom breathed out, ¡°Okay.¡± She was resolute within a moment, adding, ¡°Okay. Yes.¡± She turned to Dad. ¡°Can you take it to the Hero¡¯s Quarter tomorrow¡ª¡± She changed her mind, ¡°Tonight? Not tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I kinda want to make it into a fish¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Mom said, ¡°Absolutely not!¡±

    Dad raised his hands, saying, ¡°Okay okay! I was trying to make a joke.¡±

    Mom calmed down as much as she could. She was stressed, though.

    Dad ended up going on his own to the Hero¡¯s Quarter with the little cube of adamantium tucked away in his shoe. Mark had never been to that part of Orange City, but he had hoped to go there after his Tutorial was done. Wherever it was Dad went, they were open 24 hours a day.

    Mark went to bed before Dad got back.

    When he woke up in the morning, Dad was there to help him get out of bed.

    Mark asked, ¡°It¡¯s transferred, then, or whatever you did to it?¡±

    Dad smiled as he helped Mark stand with his walker, saying, ¡°We¡¯re now first class citizens, and you¡¯re already signed up for physical therapy. It¡¯s gonna be great, Mark.¡± He whispered, ¡°I haven¡¯t told your mom that you¡¯re signed up for PT yet. She¡¯s going to freak. You gotta help me with that.¡±

    Mark nodded. He stood as solid as he could, holding onto his walker. His task of the day lay ahead of him now; don¡¯t freak out Mom too much.

    Mom freaked the fuck out.

    ¡°You can¡¯t go to therapy yet! You can barely walk!¡± And then Mom got furious. ¡°As soon as you¡¯re good enough you¡¯re going to try the Tutorial, aren¡¯t you? Fucking hell! We almost lost your father in the monster attack and¡ª¡± She froze.

    Mark¡¯s eyes were wide. His breath shallow. ¡°Monster attack?¡± He connected a few dots. ¡°The broken boat-thing while I was in a coma?¡±

    Dad was quiet.

    Mom was quiet, too.

    Mark asked, ¡°Trace and Devon are okay, right? I saw Devon but¡­ I haven''t seen Trace yet?¡± Mark rationalized, ¡°But I never see him around the house outside of holidays anyway?¡±

    Silence.

    Dad said, ¡°Trace lost a leg and an arm, but now that we¡¯re first class citizens I signed him up for reconstructive magic, through the employee benefit program.¡±

    Mark felt dizzy¡ª

    He realized something profound, and yet normal as fuck.

    Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s almost June. Kaiju season starts on June 15th. I need to be better before that, at least. Just in case.¡±

    Mom and Dad were silent.

    And then Mom said, ¡°Physical Therapy is a good idea but¡­ but only if you¡¯re ready for it, honey. Orange City has survived decades of kaiju seasons so far without us needing to evacuate, and we can survive one more just fine.¡±

    Mark had another concern. ¡°Addashield was always one of the archmages present for kaiju season. Has he finished with his apprentice obligation yet?¡±

    Dad shook his head, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t know, son.¡±

    Mom restrained her anger. ¡°I¡¯m sure¡­ he¡¯s fine. He¡¯s a 300 year old archmage. He¡¯s fine.¡±

 012 - Sloane Addashield

    Sloane Addashield was not fine at all.

    Sloane Addashield stood before a small council, in a small room in Fate¡¯s Veil, the capital city of the Settlement of Xerkona. He did not want to be here.

    He was here anyway.

    Before him stood the Three Fates. Each of them was dressed in white, with white masks, gloves, and full-body shawls. Beneath those thick, white fabrics, lay dragons. They were shaped like people, but they were dragons, with scales of finest ruby, emerald, and sapphire. But on the surface, on the outside of the cloaks and fabrics, each of them looked the same. Each of them had risen together, thousands of years ago, back when Daihoon had more cities and yet it had been losing cities for years due to a Magefall Collapse.

    The three draconic fates rose up during that time, three archmages joining with their demons to become new existences entirely, to guide the world out of that Collapse. Dragons were sometimes the result of a demonic contract. These three dragons here were, perhaps, the best possible outcome for such a sacrifice of personhood.

    They were the prime force behind the Settlement of Xerkona¡¯s stability.

    Sloane did not hope for his contract failure to have nearly as nice of an outcome. He expected to die long before he would ever see his life end. Maybe there was a way out of that fate, though. That is why he was here.

    Sloane settled himself and went down to one knee, one fist pressed against the floor, head bowed.

    The Fates watched. They waited.

    Sloane said, ¡°I have failed in the upkeep of my Contract. I request now the full weight of Fate to keep myself, myself, or to somehow succeed in my Contract in the 9 days I have left.¡±

    The First Fate pronounced, ¡°The steps you have taken cannot lead you to success.¡±

    The Second Fate pronounced, ¡°There is nothing to be done but mitigate your Fall.¡±

    The Third Fate pronounced, ¡°Leave the world on your own terms, or have your terms dictated to you in the sweep of a paladin¡¯s blade.¡±

    Sloane sighed, the proclamation of the Fates slamming into him like a feather that weighed as much as a world. He fell to his ass and sat there for a long moment, thinking.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The Fates let him think.

    Sloane asked, ¡°What is my future as a Fallen?¡±

    The First Fate pronounced, ¡°Just as you have used your demon to enact your will against monsters and magic, your demon will use you to enact its will against humans, and civilization.¡±

    The Second Fate pronounced, ¡°The destruction of 25% of all cities in the Americas, either in totality, or partially. Those which you have assisted personally will suffer more than those who you have barely touched. Expect to see much of Earth fall as you Fall. Your demon will not try to go against Crytalis or any land that can actually harm you. Expect to die a second death within a year.¡±

    The Third Fate pronounced, ¡°If your Fallen self survives 331 years, the line between the demon and yourself will vanish, and you will become a dragon.¡±

    Altogether¡­ as expected.

    Sloane sat on his ass, cross-legged, thinking.

    The Fates let him think.

    Sloane asked, ¡°How can I best mitigate the failure of my Contract, without killing myself or letting myself be killed?¡±

    The First Fate pronounced, ¡°You have a history with your demon that is better than most.¡±

    The Second Fate pronounced, ¡°Talk to them. Bargain for more time. Take what is offered and do not mind the cost. It will be a steeper cost than you wish to pay, and yet they were the cause of the Contract failure in the first place. You can get concessions.¡±

    The Third Fate pronounced, ¡°When your near-pupil heals from their physical damage, you will have another chance to fulfill your Old Contract. Your near-pupil will hate you forever. They will try to kill you, as is their right. You might want them to succeed.¡±

    Sloane breathed deep.

    Near-pupil? So Mark Careed, then.

    The Fates looked at him, their masks as impassive as their statures.

    Sloane asked, ¡°What is the best way to reshape my Contract to prevent any sort of Fall?¡±

    The First Fate pronounced, ¡°Your demon has been denied the worst experiences, and now there is no escape.¡±

    The Second Fate pronounced, ¡°You must divest yourself of everything.¡±

    The Third Fate pronounced, ¡°With all contacts burned, with all eyes looking to kill with no one to help you, you will run, and you will be rightfully hunted.¡±

    The Fates pronounce all together, ¡°There is no way to stop your Fall. Your demon has assured as much. You can only hope to control what you hit on the way down, and even that hope is a foolish wish.¡±

    Sloane faltered.

    He thought.

    And then Sloane left.

    He talked to his demon.

    He began burning contacts the next day.

 013

    Mark had ignored his body as much as he could, but no longer. Today was day 31 post-coma. He had denied the Tutorial a second time earlier this morning, when the word appeared and woke him from sleep. And now, Dad had driven him to physical therapy for the first time.

    Kevin was the name of his physical therapist, and he was calm and understanding.

    Mark, on the other hand, was frustrated beyond understanding. He was currently lifting bright pink 2-pound weights in both hands, and he couldn¡¯t do it. Fucking 2-pound weights! He had been benching 240 pounds! Squatting 300! He had been 180 pounds of muscle on a 5¡¯7¡± frame, so he had had a lot of power. But now he was 95 pounds, and weak as fuck.

    Mark shuddered, breathing hard, lifting the 2 pound pink weight as hard as he could.

    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Kevin said, ¡°You got it! Lift that weiiiight¡ª yes! Let it down gently a¡ª¡±

    Mark¡¯s left hand faltered, the weight falling out of his grip and onto the ground. The loss of weight on that side sent him rocking in the other direction. Kevin caught him before he fell off of the bench. With a deft hand he took the weight out of Mark¡¯s hand.

    With a smile on his stupid face, Kevin said, ¡°That was great!¡±

    Mark spat, ¡°That was awful. Gods, I¡¯m so fucking¡­¡± His eyes blinked for a long moment and everything felt floaty. He came back to himself with a vengeance, saying, ¡°Weak.¡±

    ¡°I know it¡¯s difficult. I was a coma patient too, when I was 12. I was only out for 2 months compared to your 4, but I know it¡¯s difficult. It¡¯s difficult, but you can do this, Mark. You had a rough time, but you can do this.¡±

    Mark had only been a patient with Kevin for half an hour so far, but he liked the guy.

    Mark steeled himself, saying, ¡°Okay. Yeah. I can do this.¡±

    Kevin smiled. ¡°It¡¯s not about perfection, just progress.¡±

    Mark chuckled at that. He said, ¡°Not perfection, just progress.¡±

    Kevin smiled, asking, ¡°I¡¯d like to get you walking around the track today. Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°I can do that. I want to try it without a walker, too.¡±

    Kevin grinned, saying, ¡°Let¡¯s try it! I want to be there to walk with you, though, if that¡¯s okay.¡±

    Mark almost laughed.

    Oh gods, he felt so helpless.

    Turned out he could not walk on his own at all. He almost fell twice, Kevin stopping his fall both times. It was Mark who had to ask for the walker, which he appreciated. Kevin didn¡¯t judge him at all. Soon, Mark ambled along like an old man with feet that didn¡¯t work right, who lost his breath every ten steps.

    He tried his best anyway.

    That night, as he stood in the bathroom, Mark really looked at himself in the mirror for the first time since waking up. He had avoided the horror of the bathroom mirror as much as he could, but he could avoid it no longer if he wanted to measure his progress, for real.

    Mark was a skinny white boy at 95 pounds, and it showed. The forced healing while in a coma is what really ate through all his muscles.

    His ribs showed through his skin. His skin was pale as fuck. His hair was buzzed and brown, and his eye sockets were sunken and a little purple. His eyes were bloodshot, and what used to be nice blue eyes seemed more muddy brown, but maybe that was just the light. His arms were twigs. His thighs were thin. His skin sagged around his belly, which was only possible because he had lost everything.

    He used to have abs and nice arms, and he used to weigh 180 pounds, back when he could play rugby and swing a spear and¡ª

    Mark ignored his past as much as he could.

    All he had was his future.

    ¡°Not perfection, just progress.¡±

    - - - -

    By the end of the first week of PT Mark managed to stand by himself on the track painted onto the floor of the PT room, without his walker. He even managed to walk the track, though he was the slowest one there. Old men who had suffered from strokes, or people in wheelchairs using their arms to wheel their chairs, all moved faster than him.

    Kevin saw Mark judging himself. He said multiple times, ¡°Don¡¯t measure yourself against others. Just go at your own pace. You¡¯re doing great, Mark.¡±

    By the end of the second week, Mark was able to walk without a walker, but it was slow, and he was uncoordinated. It was still better than the week before.

    Three weeks in and Mark was lifting 10 pound weights over his shoulders and walking the track at a normal walking pace.

    At the end of his first month of PT, it had been 2 months since waking up and Mark was able to start doing pushups again. His appetite was back in full, and he was putting on weight. The scales read 115, and Mark was determined to get back everything he had lost. He¡¯d need it in the Tutorial.

    ¡°Real talk, Mark,¡± Kevin said, kneeling beside Mark as Mark held onto the shoulder press machine, still recovering. Kevin helped Mark lower his hands to his sides, and then looked him in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not going to be ready for the Tutorial in under a year. It might take you four years to recover enough to take the Tutorial. The healing did a number on your physical power. You might be able to walk around like an uninjured person in a year.¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Mark shook his head. ¡°I can get back to Tutorial in a year. I know I can.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I can help you with realistic goals, but you took the Tutorial training. You passed the False Tutorial. You know what it takes. You are not there, and you will not be there in a long time.¡±

    Mark felt the weight of that truth try to settle upon his shoulders.

    Mark threw off that weight, saying, ¡°That¡¯s what you believe. But I know what I believe. I¡¯m going to do this in 6 months.¡± He looked to Kevin. ¡°Can you help me get there?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll help you as much as I can, but¡­¡± Kevin breathed in, and then out, and said, ¡°I¡¯ve been doing this for 20 years, Mark. You are not the first kid I¡¯ve helped who has suffered an accident before their Tutorial date. I¡¯m telling you that even 4 years is not enough recovery time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still going to try. Not perfection, just progress. Up and up and up.¡±

    Kevin looked in Mark¡¯s eyes for a little longer, and then he said, ¡°Okay.¡± He stood up, and said, ¡°Then I¡¯m going to start pushing you more, and you need to eat a whole lot more. You¡¯re at 115 pounds. You¡¯re skinny as shit and you can¡¯t do more than 3 pushups before failing. You can¡¯t hold a sword and you can¡¯t even run a 30-minute mile. If you want to do this, I am going to push you hard, and you need to start taking nutritional supplements.¡±

    Mark felt a flame start to burn in his chest. He said, ¡°Yes. Yes to all of that.¡± He added, ¡°I¡¯m already taking some supplements.¡±

    ¡°More. Protein shakes. Creatine. Muskleaves, fish oil, and branched roots.¡±

    ¡°I know... some of those. What are muskleaves and branched roots?¡±

    ¡°The leaves aren¡¯t entirely necessary, and you probably can¡¯t get clearance for them while under Curtain Protocol, but we can ask. Rich noble kids take them after serious injury in order to regain functionality throughout the whole body.¡± Kevin said, ¡°Branched roots are just branched chain amino acids from that Aluathan Empire company¡­ I forget which. Everyone calls them branched roots these days. You can get those for sure, too. And then there¡¯s fish oil, but you eat a lot of fish, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I could eat more?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Eat more. You¡¯re not scared of getting fat, are you? Some people worry about that.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I can get rid of it later.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Kevin slapped the side of the shoulder press machine, saying, ¡°Come on, Mark! Give me 10 more!¡±

    Mark gave him 5 more. 6, if he wanted to lie about it. That was as much as he could do.

    Kevin put in the orders for supplements and Mark¡¯s First Citizen designation paid for all of it, through Orange City. That system was how Kevin was getting paid in the first place, but this sort of order of stuff was beyond what Kevin could do for Mark on his own. Mark had to talk to a woman on the phone after placing the order, to make sure that this really was something he wanted, and that it was medically necessary.

    It was more than medically necessary, in Mark¡¯s opinion.

    - - - -

    Two days later Mark got a massive delivery at his house with a whole bunch of stuff. He couldn¡¯t lift the giant containers of protein out of the cardboard box, but Dad could do that, so Mark focused on grabbing the smaller things.

    Mom sat at the kitchen table and read off Kevin¡¯s dietary plan schedule, saying, ¡°He¡¯s having you eat¡­ a whole lot more, honey. And these supplements¡­ You sure it¡¯s okay for you to eat these¡­ What are these? Muskleaves? Do you eat them?¡±

    Turned out muskleaves were fine for Curtain Protocol people, when used in moderation and properly.

    ¡°You make tea out of them,¡± Mark said, as he pulled out the small box of leaves. He opened the box. It was packaged weird, but Kevin had already told him about how it would come and what to do with them. Mark pulled out a single clear plastic bag that was pretty much flat, except for one bright red leaf that had been dried and pressed and slipped inside the bag. ¡°Each one is individually packaged. One leaf per day, crushed in a tea-cup-style mortar and pestle until it makes a paste, and then the mortar is filled with hot water and you drink it, refilling it with hot water until all of the paste is consumed as tea.¡±

    Mom took the plastic bag with a frown. ¡°Looks like drugs.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Yup.¡±

    Dad laughed, too. ¡°It is drugs.¡±

    ¡°Good drugs!¡± Mark said. ¡°I can take 3 months of it and not have any adverse effects, so that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. It¡¯s supposed to massively increase my appetite, too.¡±

    Dad pulled the teacup mortar set out of a box on the table, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll make the tea for¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Mom said, plucking the teacup mortar away. ¡°I want to! You¡¯re already making dinner almost every night, Markus. I¡¯ll make tea.¡±

    ¡°Sure, Donna,¡± Dad said, grinning as he started to break down the first box.

    Mom took the box of muskleaves from where Mark had set them down and grabbed the preparation instructions from inside. With quick hands, one small white square of waxed paper unfolded into one rather large sheet of paper with a whole bunch of drawings on it. ¡°Uh,¡± Mom said, looking over all the little drawings. ¡°That¡¯s a¡­ a little more complicated than I would have thought.¡±

    Dad grinned. ¡°Good luck!¡± He said to Mark, ¡°I can make your protein shakes. Want one now?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I do,¡± Mark said, even though he wasn¡¯t that hungry.

    Mom said, ¡°Let me organize the pill boxes.¡± She discarded the muskleaf preparation instructions onto the table as she went back to Kevin¡¯s dietary plan and other instructions, saying, ¡°You¡¯re supposed to take¡­ Uh¡­ Looks like a ¡®branched roots¡¯? With your powder? You''re putting ¡®branched roots¡¯ in there, Markus?¡±

    Dad was already scooping nearly-white powder into a blender, saying, ¡°Yup!¡±

    Mom shuffled through instructions fast, mumbling about ¡®redline pills¡¯ and ¡®mana-channel cleaners¡¯, both of which would counteract the mild mana flavorings that the muskroot would cause Mark. They were pretty basic pills that the noble kids of Daihoon would take when they needed intensive magical healing before their majority, so that they could keep their Tutorial options open, and Mark had qualified for them, somehow. It was that First Citizen stuff, for sure.

    Mark didn¡¯t do much aside from watch his parents work. For right now, Mark sat there, smiling softly, watching Mom figure out pills and Dad add some berries to the blender. It was love in action¡ª

    The blender started going, whirring loud, drowning out Mark¡¯s thoughts.

    Dad stopped the blender. ¡°That¡¯s pretty loud!¡±

    Mark laughed.

    Mom and Dad smiled at that, and Mom said, ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear you laugh again, Mark.¡± Her chin trembled, and then she went and hugged him, already crying. ¡°We¡¯re going to make you better. You¡¯ll get better. I know you will.¡±

    Mark teared up.

    Dad was there with a hand on his back, just being there.

    It was Mark¡¯s first really good day since he woke up.

    It was almost a month into kaiju season, the height of Summer, July 8th, and though no storms had developed off of the coast of Africa yet, it was only a matter of time.

 014 - Sloane Addashield

    Knees on the ground, blood everywhere, Archmage Sloane Addashield wept over the corpse of his oldest friend, Yunthal Brightwind.

    Yunthal had fought alongside Sloane in the Reveal, helping him to forge bonds of companionship between Earth and the Empires of Daihoon. Yunthal had been there with Sloane long before that, though, in the Red War against the dragon Bloodmaw, in all the thousands of conflicts they had fought against the sects, and the cults, and the Worshipers of Dragons. Yunthal had been there with Sloane all the way at the beginning, in their childhood in the Orphanage of the Dawn Sun, in Lower Crytalis. Yunthal had been a brother in arms, with a twin Contract to Sloane¡¯s own demonic Contract.

    Sloane¡¯s demon was named Kanda, and Yunthal¡¯s demon was Adank.

    And now Yunthal was meat, scattered upon the ground and the walls.

    Kanda cackled in Sloane¡¯s shadow, calling through the gloom, ¡°I won, Adank! I knew I would win! You were always too weak!¡±

    Sloane wanted to say that Yunthal didn¡¯t fight like he should have. He didn¡¯t kill like he could have. Yunthal had walked into his death, putting up a feeble resistance, because Yunthal had become a merchant in the last 50 years, and he saw that Sloane wasn¡¯t fully Fallen. Yunthal had let himself be murdered, because he knew that Sloane would have done something else, if he could have. The only reason that Sloane was here to kill Yunthal was to avoid an Infraction¡­

    Killing Yunthal had been easy.

    Why didn¡¯t he fight more?

    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s what I want. You cry so beautifully!¡± Kanda yelled into Sloane¡¯s ears, their malevolent power wrapping through Sloane¡¯s body, taking all of Sloane¡¯s emotions away. She felt them all, instead, and she began to cry in his place. ¡°Oh no! What have we done!¡±

    Kanda cried demon tears upon Sloane¡¯s own face, and Sloane felt nothing.

    Demonic crying filled Sloane¡¯s ears, but soon all of that transformed into laughter. Peals of laughter, like dragon claws rending castle doors.

    Sloane¡¯s emotions regarding Yunthal were suddenly gone, as though he had spent a lifetime in mourning.

    Emotions could only ever hold up for so long, after all. The human body simply couldn¡¯t feel sad all the time with a demon draining all emotions away. Even with demonic healing, and his brain fully ready to feel more emotions, every deep experience was less than the one that came before, especially when Sloane wasn¡¯t allowed to actually heal between each horror.

    ¡°Burn it all down,¡± Kanda commanded. ¡°Slice the survivors to pieces, but not all at once.¡±

    Sloane started a fire upon the stone and the stone caught flame. Soon, Yunthal¡¯s main house was a conflagration and Sloane floated above it all, wires of adamantium slicing apart everyone who tried to escape the burning building. Every injury he inflicted was designed to cause pain instead of merely death, and Sloane hated himself for all of it.

    It was one of the worst crimes that Sloane had ever done.

    He would need to do worse, soon enough.

    Kanda felt everything that Sloane felt, her soul vibrating in sorrow, inside Sloane¡¯s soul. ¡°Oh this is so terrible! Why did you kill that poor woman down there! Why¡ª Yeah okay. I¡¯m bored now. You can have these crying emotions back. Let¡¯s go play in someone¡¯s innards! That one down there! The one you killed just now. I¡¯ll shave off a year of your downtime if you do unspeakable things to her.¡±

    Killing Yunthal had shaved 100 years off of his time. A full third of his ¡®penance¡¯ for denying Kanda the full breadth of human experience for their 331 years of partnership. Kanda wouldn¡¯t be satisfied until¡­ Until anything, really. Kanda would never be satisfied. Even if Sloane paid off his full 331 years, they would resume their Old Contract, but the world would never be the same because of what he was doing¡ª

    Kanda whispered, ¡°You¡¯re he~si~ta~ting, Slooooooane~¡±

    She spoke directly into Sloane¡¯s ears, directly entangling with Sloane in a way that could be turned into torture at the demon¡¯s slightest desire. Endless screaming. Endless noise. The only way to stop the noise would be scooping out his own ears, but Kanda would just regrow those ears and make them more sensitive. The Old Contract made sure she was only able to speak through the use of Sloane¡¯s left hand, but he had been a fool when he made the Old Contract.

    He had allowed her too much leniency, but at the time of the Old Contract, it seemed reasonable.

    Sloane had even granted Kanda more power in the bracers of adamantium on his wrists, and usually she took out her desire for pain on appropriate enemies.

    But Kanda had inscribed her dislike of Dan Clover into his body, during the boy¡¯s Awakening, killing the boy. Dan had been studying demon contracts since he was a boy, sitting on his father¡¯s knee in the Judgment Hall of Upper Crytalis. He would have made such a good Contract with any of Kanda¡¯s relatives, erasing all the problems of Sloane¡¯s own Contract with Kanda...

    Kanda could not have that.

    Demons preferred Contractors to be stupid, like Sloane had been when he was young and stupid.

    Kanda had used Sloane¡¯s left hand and bracers to murder people in the last 331 years of their joining, of course. Just people that Sloane let her murder; criminals and such. But she had never done such a thing to a Contract candidate. She had been planning to kill him all along, though. She had never said anything. She had sprung the trap in the last possible moment, and now Sloane was here.

    It was a direct violation of the clause in their Contract to never willfully cause the Contract to fail, and it was the only reason he hadn¡¯t Fallen already.

    ¡°I¡¯m waiting, Sloane,¡± Kanda said.

    ¡°Give me a moment,¡± Sloane said. ¡°I¡¯m preparing myself.¡±

    Sloane had gotten lax, and now so many more people were paying for his old Contract, made centuries ago by a stupid kid and his stupid friend, who bargained with demons thinking they came out on top. But that¡¯s how it always was with demons. They always wanted you to think you had come out on top, but you never did. Not in the end.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    And the New Contract he had made in the wake of Kanda¡¯s violation and his own inability to secure the Contract had made Sloane even more vulnerable.

    If only one of those three damned kids would have survived their Tutorial!

    Just one!

    And none of this would have happened!

    Sloane wouldn¡¯t be here¡ª

    With acid honey for a voice, Kanda asked, ¡°Want me to drive you to kill one of your family, next? I am particularly fond of Ruridana. I would like to see what her head looks like after you crush it with your own hands, of your own volition, and what her brains taste like when you eat them. She¡¯s young. She wouldn¡¯t understand anything at all. Not like Brightwind understood. All Ruridana would know is that greatpappy Sloane¡¯s fingers were closing around her face, and then her little skull would cra¡ª¡±

    Sloane descended to the ground and started defiling the woman¡¯s corpse.

    Kanda rejoiced in sensations that Sloane had been denying her for 331 years.

    Scrying orbs and farsight familiars watched from far distances.

    Sloane was not Fallen. Not at all. Being Fallen would be much, much worse, and maybe even better in some ways. The people watching would be able to kill a demon-controlled Sloane, as Kanda would make mistakes and fall to her own madness rapidly. But he wasn¡¯t Fallen, yet. Despite all layman appearances to the contrary, this was a controlled collapse of Sloane¡¯s entire life. Or at least that¡¯s what he told himself¡ª

    ¡°Check the weather on Earth,¡± Kanda said, ¡°I want to herd some kaiju to some unprotected cities.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll soul-kill myself right now, Kanda.¡±

    ¡°Bah! Fine. I pushed too far, I see¡­ Eh! I¡¯m not in any hurry to take over your body just yet, and you do provide a useful shield against your fellow mortals¡­ I know! You need more fun in your life. Let¡¯s go whoring.¡±

    Sloane rose from the ground, blood dripping. ¡°More whoring, then.¡±

    ¡°Find a kaiju!¡±

    ¡°¡­ The Largest Kaiju brothel in Grovehall? Sure.¡±

    ¡°That was not what I meant, but I¡¯ll take it! I wonder why they call it the Largest Kaiju!¡±

    Sloane flew off to the east, taking his time, feeling the wind on his face and otherwise. Kanda liked that feeling, so she did not mind the slow pace. Soon, the slow flight provided Kanda with a distraction.

    Kanda spotted some beautiful feathered tails by the coast, where they were sunning themselves and doing mating dances, their long tails swishing prismatically. Kanda wanted them dead and turned into monsters. Since that was just about the simplest request she could ask for, and since every request was a minimum of 1 day off of his ¡®repentance¡¯, Sloane murdered feathered tails.

    Kanda was soon distracted by the next shiny thing and Sloane proceeded to render that thing into meat, too.

    It took a month for her to remember that she wanted Sloane to go whoring.

    The Largest Kaiju in the city of Grovehall was evacuated long before Sloane arrived, along with the entire town.

    ¡°You warned them.¡± With deadly hate in her voice, Kanda said, ¡°That¡¯s an infraction, Sloane.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Sloane said, with a scoff. ¡°You distracted yourself from your own goals and I let you do it. I didn¡¯t warn them we were coming at all. I did not work against you. You have no ground to stand on in calling this an infraction, Kanda. Do not throw illusions in my face and call them valid.¡±

    Kanda grumbled horribly, and then exploded, ¡°FINE! Yes. I allowed myself to get distracted, and you are following my desires well enough¡­ Fine.¡± Kanda went silent. Then they shouted, ¡°Find a survivor!¡±

    Sloane made a suggestion, ¡°Remove all the years of my penance, and I¡¯ll do that kaiju herding toward a city that you wanted.¡±

    Kanda hummed, mumbling incoherent words in open thought. And then she declared, ¡°Bah! No deal. They¡¯d see us coming and lay traps for you and then all my fun would be over.¡±

    Sloane hung in the air above Grovehall, waiting.

    There were only three ways out of this new horror.

    He could give in to Kanda and Fall, allowing her to destroy his soul and take over his body.

    He could die to someone, and the same thing would happen, with Kanda taking over his remains.

    Or he could follow his New Contract through to the end, either hitting enough Infractions and slamming into the Joining clause, where he and Kanda would become one entity, one dragon, or getting through his Penance, and returning to the Old Contract.

    He didn¡¯t want to destroy a city, but if the choice was between a city versus his eternal soul and the creation of a dragon that could do so much worse, then there wasn¡¯t really a choice at all. Falling wasn¡¯t a real option, either¡ª

    Kanda¡¯s voice came to Sloane, as deadly as ever, dripping poison as she asked, ¡°Tell me, Sloane. Why am I making you do these horrible things?¡±

    Sloane gave her the answer she wanted, ¡°Because you think I¡¯ll deny you overmuch, and you want to be a dragon with you in charge rather than go back to the Old Contract.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but even if we go back to the Old Contract, you¡¯ll still have eternally disgraced your image. Once that happens, we can start over from the bottom once again.¡± Kanda added, ¡°And if that doesn¡¯t happen, then I will have changed you in other ways. Are you aware you aren¡¯t fighting me on my suggestions anymore? That you denied my kaiju-herding last month, but here you are, suggesting that we do that very thing?¡±

    Sloane was ready for this rhetoric. ¡°I know the costs of life here on Daihoon. Everyone does, including you. If I can pull back to the Old Contract, there will be rebuilding, yes, but humanity will survive. And you want humanity to survive, Kanda. You like it when I am praised by people for saving them, or for killing a monster. You like the feasts held in my honor. You revel in the love and the simple joy, too.¡±

    Kanda¡¯s voice was distant, ¡°Maybe I do.¡±

    ¡°Why did you kill Dan Clover?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll find out that answer and so much more if you agree to become a dragon with me.¡±

    ¡°No thanks,¡± Sloane said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you 25% of the resulting personality! That¡¯s more than you¡¯re going to get right now at 15%. A lot more.¡±

    ¡°95%-me and I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Kanda laughed, a trilling sound. ¡°No!¡± She continued to laugh for a little while longer. ¡°Ah¡­! But that was a joyful diversion. How about 26%?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re at an impasse and we will revisit this discussion some other time,¡± Kanda said, ¡°For now, go find some person remaining down there in Grovehall and brutally murder them while their family watches.¡±

    Sloane descended to the deserted city of Grovehall, hoping that the Inquisitors had gotten everyone out of the city, like they appeared to have done.

    But, of course, there were always people unwilling to evacuate in the face of an oncoming disaster. Sloane hoped that the people he found would be old. Not a family, or anything like that. A pair of old people would be fine to kill.

 015

    Mark hung up and stared at his phone for a little while.

    He had just gotten off the phone with Sally, and it had been¡­

    It had been like talking to a stranger. All the kind words were there, and Sally was happy that he was back and healing, and that he had read her letters, but it still felt like talking to a stranger.

    Mark got off of his bed, steadied himself, and walked out of his room without the use of his walker. He had surpassed the need for a walker just last week, but he still grabbed the railings on the walls and on the staircase to make it back to the dining room. Mom and Dad were still eating dinner, but they had paused while Mark had answered the phone.

    Dad said, ¡°You could have talked to her for longer. You didn¡¯t have to come right back.¡±

    Mark shook his head and sat down at his plate of fish and salad. ¡°Sally didn¡¯t have much time to talk this time. She had to... go. She was just¡­ checking up on me.¡±

    Mom reached out and held Mark¡¯s wrist, saying, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, honey.¡±

    Mark put on a happy face. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He picked his fork back up, moving Mom¡¯s hand away, saying, ¡°Sally joined some organization she couldn¡¯t tell me about but apparently it¡¯s rather prevalent over on Daihoon. She says she looks forward to me joining her¡­ but I think she was just being¡­ kind.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing well, Mark,¡± Dad said. ¡°Very well. Don¡¯t let high expectations ground you before you even get a chance to soar.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°Eat your dinner, honey. You gotta build your strength back up so you can take on the Tutorial next year.¡±

    Mom had done a 180 on her stance on the Tutorial in the last month, since it seemed to be the one thing that truly got Mark motivated. It got him motivated this time, too. But still, staring down at two massive flanks of fish, breaded and fried, and a salad that was twice the size of either Mom or Dad¡¯s, was still intimidating. It was also a little cold, but Dad had taken a glass cover from on top of the stove and covered his plate while he was talking to Sally, so it wasn¡¯t too much colder.

    Mark dug in, Mom and Dad got back to eating, too, Dad started talking about the weather and the boat and fishing¡ª

    ¡°And oh yeah!¡± Dad said, grinning. ¡°Trace¡¯s regrowing is going well, and he¡¯s going to be back on the boat with us tomorrow, because tomorrow is the flyby.¡± He asked Mark, ¡°You want to come out with us? See Mistress Storm and Red Thunder from the water!¡±

    Mom scoffed, saying, ¡°You can¡¯t be out there for a flyby.¡±

    Mark almost scoffed, too. ¡°Yeah, Dad?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll head to the haulout an hour before the flyby, of course,¡± Dad said, ¡°Trace really wants to see it, though, and we¡¯ve been out there before. So? How about it? Mark?¡±

    Mom hummed, but there wasn¡¯t any real disapproval to her voice.

    Mark thought for a second and said, ¡°I can¡¯t go. Tomorrow I get to start learning how to swim again. Is Trace doing PT, too? How much of his arm and leg have regrown?¡±

    Dad moved on in the conversation, too, saying, ¡°They¡¯ve got him on a full-heal plan and he¡¯s a brawny with no lingering damage, so he can regrow pretty fast. He¡¯s up to his knee and elbow and his liver grew back just fine.¡±

    Mark was curious about what sorts of magics they could actually use on an Awakened person to heal them faster, but that was obviously Curtain Protocol stuff.

    Dad asked Mark again, ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to come?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. I want to do all the aquatic therapy I can.¡±

    Dad said, ¡°Rest is important, too.¡±

    Mark smiled at Dad¡¯s care. ¡°Those muskleaves are enough to qualify as resting and therapy on the same day, and I mean to take advantage.¡±

    Dad accepted that.

    And then Mom began, ¡°You¡¯re going to be at the dock before the flyby, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Donna,¡± Dad said, smiling softly.

    ¡°Good,¡± Mom said.

    The conversation moved on.

    Mark ate everything on his plate. He was the last to finish dinner, by far, but Mom had her glass of wine and Dad liked talking about the news and so dinner took a while, but it was nice. Mark had never wanted to get messed up like he had, but he liked his parents.

    But Mark knew that if he didn¡¯t get out there, if he didn¡¯t take up the swords that his forebears had dropped in battle, like Addashield had said, then this sort of easy life behind the walls of Orange City was just one monster attack away from shattering. Humanity only existed because strong people were willing to put their lives on the line, to be heroes and superheroes, to protect everyone who could not protect themselves.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Maybe it hadn¡¯t been like that before the Reveal, before men had landed on the Moon and revealed the Demon City and shattered the Veil, but that¡¯s how it was now. That¡¯s how it had always been on Daihoon. In Addashield¡¯s letter to Mark, that he had left with him the day before his 18th birthday, the archmage had hoped for Mark¡¯s good health and good future, and to take his time to heal right before he attempted the Tutorial, because he had known that Mark was not going to stop. Mark was going to get there, and stand strong. Mark wasn¡¯t going to disappoint Addashield, and he wasn¡¯t going to disappoint himself.

    He¡¯d get back everything he had lost, and more.

    - - - -

    Mark stood on the scale and marveled how he could simply stand and not need to grip the railing.

    Kevin smiled at him, saying, ¡°You¡¯re standing all on your own, now.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Mark said, grinning widely. ¡°It¡¯s the small things, huh!¡±

    Kevin grinned, too, as he looked at the readout. ¡°125! That¡¯s pretty good! And it looks like¡ª Stand up straight?¡±

    Mark stood up straight as Kevin read the height scale.

    ¡°5¡¯8. Which is...¡± Kevin tapped away at his pad, entering numbers, and his eyebrows scrunched. ¡°Ah. Hmm."

    Mark was already scrunching his own eyebrows. ¡°5¡¯8?¡± He looked at the scale in front of him, and yeah, maybe he was at 5¡¯8? ¡°I thought I was 5¡¯7?¡±

    A pretty fucking jacked 5¡¯7¡±, too, before the coma.

    Now, Mark was fine with gaining some height, but¡­ This was a problem, right? Or maybe he was just developmentally delayed¡ª No. Mark knew this was a problem.

    Kevin hummed, then said, ¡°Yes. You were 5¡¯7.2¡±, to be exact. Hmm.¡±

    Mark already knew what needed to happen. ¡°They need to check me for mana impurities.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Kevin poked at his screen, saying, ¡°I¡¯m signing you up for a scan¡­ and that¡¯s¡­ Now? Ah. They have an opening in an hour. We can take you down the hall after your swimming lessons. You can use the small scanner.¡± He tapped a few more icons on the screen and then swiped his key card across the top of the pad before putting it into the slot on the wall, beside the scale. With a smile, Kevin said, ¡°Let¡¯s get you in the water!¡±

    Mark ambled off of the scale and almost stumbled, but Kevin was there to grab him.

    Soon, Mark was in the water with a bunch of grannies and old guys. Most of the old timers were wearing floaties and paddling on boards, but Mark was just moving in the water, stretching, finding out his coordination was still shot and that swimming at all was harder than it used to be. He did as much as he could.

    An hour later, Mark was able to undress and dress himself now, so he did that in the locker room before rejoining Kevin for a scan on the machine.

    The scanner at the physical therapy center was an older style, with a metal band that went around Mark¡¯s head and a jacket/pant-like thing that Mark stepped into, like a onesie, that Kevin helped to close up. Kevin and the technician working the machine stepped behind a glass wall, and one flicker of light later, they came back out with a readout.

    Kevin didn¡¯t say anything as he helped Mark get out of the scanner, though he did have what appeared to be a genuine grin on his face. Mark wasn¡¯t too worried.

    But Mark still rapidly asked the other person in the room, ¡°What¡¯s it look like, doc?¡±

    The technician was a woman with a badge that named her Emily.

    Emily smiled softly, saying, ¡°I¡¯m just a scanner technician; not a doctor. However!¡± She handed Mark his readout. ¡°I can read your readout. It¡¯s not as good as a full scan, but it says you¡¯re still baseline, so you can still take the Tutorial, and you don¡¯t appear to be in danger of breaking baseline.¡±

    ¡°I still wouldn¡¯t advise the Tutorial for a few years,¡± Kevin added, as he hung up the scanning suit.

    Mark eagerly read the graphs and saw pretty much exactly what Emily had said, though none of the graph was exactly readable. All of it was behind Curtain Protocol, which meant unnamed, unlabeled axes and bars and readouts.

    There were the six unnamed bars of the graph, along with a series of numbers which had other numbers near them. It was all obfuscated. But for Tutorial-based ease, there was a whole column of the number readout and a red line on the bar graph that told Mark what he needed to know; he was below the red warning area, and by a lot.

    Most of the numbers in the number readout were all marked with a ¡®negligible¡¯.

    At around 25% and 60% down the list of numbers, Mark¡¯s numbers read something other than ¡®negligible¡¯; they read ¡®acceptable¡¯. Mark assumed that those were the parts of the scan that pinged off of his metalkinesis and healing affinities, since the readouts before his coma were all straight nothings.

    The bar graph had larger bars in the second and fourth category, but those bars were still nowhere near approaching the red line. They were halfway to the red line, though. Those larger bars were twice as large as all the other bars. The only other bar that was even visible on the scale was the first bar, but that was just a bump; a fifth of the size of the second and fourth bars.

    Mark didn¡¯t know exactly what the readouts were, but he couldn¡¯t keep his curiosity that contained. ¡°So this height growth is in the first category and it¡¯s some sort of brawny thing, and that¡¯s what the first category is?¡±

    Kevin¡¯s face went unreadable. He lied, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Mark inwardly cursed at himself.

    Don¡¯t break Curtain Protocol, Mark!

    Emily took her cue from Kevin, her face going blank, as she shrugged. ¡°Good luck!¡±

    Mark got scheduled for a full scan in a week, but generally¡­

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m just worried.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing to be worried about,¡± Kevin said. ¡°Keep doing what you¡¯re doing. Anyway! We¡¯ve got an hour left. Want to go to the roof and see the flyby with everyone? It should be starting soon.¡±

    Oh yeah! That was happening soon. Mark said, ¡°Yeah, I do.¡±

 016

    Mark managed the walk up the staircase by himself, though Kevin was there to help. Many other debilitated people were also headed up to see the flyby. Mark turned out to be one of the faster movers, which was a big change from just last week, but he happily walked slow anyway. They weren¡¯t in any rush. The flyby was still several minutes away, and it wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d actually miss it; not with them being within 20 miles of the bay.

    Old people stood with walkers and canes on the roof, many of them still wearing their swimming clothes, but a few, like Mark, were in workout clothes. Aides and nurses were everywhere, easily knowable by lanyards and tags on their necks, or by their general physical health.

    The space outside of the physical therapy center was a bunch of palm trees growing to the left and the right, and some oak trees in the parking lot up ahead. Beyond all of that stretched the city. The physical therapy center was several stories of glass, steel, and gym equipment, so their roof was pretty high up there. Mark got a good view of the city, and of the land beyond. He could even make out a strip of blue beyond some trees, though that might have just been a canal.

    A lot of people were up on their roofs, in the rest of the city. Some neighborhood cookout was happening over on a nearby roof, with a dad at the grill and kids running around, while uncles, aunts, or maybe just neighbors and parents, all ate cake or burgers under umbrellas. Big hats were out in force, keeping the sun off of older women.

    Some people stood in the parking lot, looking up. Waiting around.

    Kevin checked his watch, and he was not the only one. ¡°About 2 minutes to the start, and they¡¯re usually on time. You good to stand?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I¡¯m good to sta¡ª oh.¡±

    It was starting. A bit early, but it was starting.

    The sky darkened, all of the blue above rapidly replaced by misty white, blocking out the sun with clouds. The clouds deepened, but really only toward the south west, directly ahead of Mark, where the bay was located. The bay was hundreds of miles large, though, so pretty much all of the world in that direction turned deeply cloudy.

    The clouds were all thanks to Mistress Storm. She was a skykinetic, and she could bring the rain like few others. Soon, Red Thunder would get involved. He was a lightningkinetic. He could do a lot with that, if he had help, and he would be having a lot of help today, which was pretty normal for him, and his situation.

    Mistress Storm and Red Thunder had been married for the last 10 years or something like that, but they had been working together for the last 30 years, ever since the two of them met each other in a battle against a kaiju in like, Japan, if Mark remembered correctly. Maybe not. Both of them lived in the Floridas, though, so they had rapidly gotten the bright idea to combine their powers and start an annual monster clearing event.

    ¡®Flyby Day¡¯ wasn¡¯t a real event; it was just a thing that happened because two superheroes were superheroes.

    The sky darkened further. A chill wind blew.

    Kevin had out his phone, focused on the southwest. Mark looked at Kevin¡¯s phone and saw he was zoomed in and looking for the fliers, but he didn¡¯t see them yet. Mark kept his eyes on the sky. Someone would see them soon. Someone in this group of old people must have had some sort of eye-enhancement¡ª

    ¡°There they are!¡± said an old woman, pointing to the west.

    She wore the thickest glasses on her face that Mark had ever seen. Everyone looked where she was pointing¡ª

    People gasped as they saw them, saying how they saw them now, too.

    Mark smiled as he saw them. They were so far away that he would have missed them, for sure.

    A dot of red held in the sky like a spark of sunlight, almost too small to see. Next to it was a thick fogbank. Red Thunder was inside that lightning, and Mistress Storm was inside that cloud. Mark couldn¡¯t see much of anything beyond that. At these distances Mark was surprised he could see anything at all¡ª

    Kevin had his phone in his hands, so Mark saw as Kevin¡¯s phone flashed with a yellow alert, the entire thing turning from a camera view of the distance into a brick of bright yellow.

    ¡®Superhero Action in Orange Bay taking place in 1 minute.¡¯

    A countdown started, and Kevin started poking at the screen to make the warning go away.

    An older woman next to Mark spoke to her husband, ¡°One minute! Ha! Kids these days can organize things so fast, can¡¯t they.¡±

    Someone else piped up, ¡°I¡¯m sure they spent the entire day clearing out the bay of stragglers.¡±

    Mark was pretty sure of that, too. Dad had probably only gotten half a day of fishing with the guys and then someone probably landed on his deck and told him to clear out, like, an hour ago, or something like that. Dad, Devon, and Trace were probably watching from safe harbor right now¡ª

    Red lightning shattered across the sky, like the cracking of light into the dark, illuminating everything red with a branching, searching crackle of power that spread and spread among the clouds. The air boomed with thunder and the wind picked up fast, sending a chill all across Orange City.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard as his arms prickled with bumps, as an echoing thrum of power broke the sky.

    A light drizzle began to fall.

    Mistress Storm and Red Thunder were both pretty basic superheroes. Sure, they were on the high end of what was possible, but neither of them could have pulled off what Mark was seeing all on their own. They had to work together; them, and a whole lot of other people. Tinkers for coordination. Seers for more coordination. Maybe some¡­ power boosters? Did those sorts of heroes actually exist? It was theorized that they did, but Mark was behind Curtain Protocol. Mark had no idea how magic truly worked¡­

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But he wanted to know.

    Soon, Mark told himself. Soon. Just get better, get through the Tutorial, and you can go anywhere you want, and learn everything you want to learn.

    The yellow alert on Kevin¡¯s phone flickered on again, to color his phone orange and then bright red. He dismissed the alert with a flick and got back to his camera, zooming in on the heroes in the sky. A warning ping crackled across the top of Kevin¡¯s phone, beeping loud, and also beeping every other phone in the area, like a ripple of warning.

    Kevin focused the zoom on the distant forms of the superheroes. Red Thunder, in his lightning cage, and Mistress Storm, in her gale cloak. Each of them wore dark, skintight clothes. Each of them had some sort of tech wrapped around their heads. They nodded at each other, and then they raised their hands toward each other, toward the storm above.

    Mark had seen this a few times before, but it was still inspiring.

    Each year for the last 10 years ¡ªand this would be year 11¡ª Mistress Storm would litter the sky with clouds, focusing 90% of her power on charging the atmosphere. Red Thunder would come through, following Mistress Storm¡¯s wind, collecting the charges. With the help of some technomages back in headquarters, they¡¯d spot monster targets throughout the entire bay area, all 1800 square kilometers of it. And then the lightning would fall in a gridwork pattern, upon every single monster out there.

    The whole effort would take four hours, lasting well into the night, and when it was over the superheroes would throw one of the biggest parties in Orange City. In one single afternoon, they would do the work of an entire year¡¯s worth of monster hunts. In four months, they¡¯d repeat the process for Memphi, and then for a few different bay areas and mountain regions in the Eastern United Cities and elsewhere. They¡¯d help people, and then celebrate the small saving of this or that part of the world with a party. Their parties were legendary, and everyone was always invited.

    Every Awakened person.

    Mark had only ever seen pictures of the party, heavily censored by the Curtain Protocol AI installed on his phone and in his house, but maybe next year, when he was Awakened himself, he could go into hero town and party with the heroes.

    Mark felt his heart soar on the wind as he watched the storm build in the sky.

    He imagined himself being up there, one day¡­ Or maybe not up there.

    Let¡¯s be realistic now.

    Mark would be helping at the sidelines, or maybe staying in reserve to kill kaiju, or something. Adamantium was what they used to kill kaiju, according to Addashield, and Mark was going to be an adamantiumkinetic.

    Mark smiled at that thought.

    Lightning and wind crashed overhead, blooming between Red Thunder and Mistress Storm, becoming a sudden swirl of power that stormed into the sky like a twisting tempest, red lightning spreading, spreading, spreading. Mark watched the sky as the rainy darkness illuminated from within, red and sharp. On Kevin¡¯s phone, there was a closer view. It was amazing to see all that red flickering strong and¡ª

    Silver-edged black-light cracked the sky near the two superheroes, and the twister of red storm that they had been raising to the heavens suddenly broke. They released their power? No.

    Wait.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure if he gasped, or if everyone else gasped, and maybe both had happened at the same time, because whatever had happened was not supposed to happen. Mark saw it all happen on Kevin¡¯s phone.

    Mark¡¯s mind refused to process what he was seeing, but he processed it anyway.

    A man in black robes, edged in gold, stood in the sky before Red Thunder and his lightning cage, and Mistress Storm and her gale cloak. The man was an archmage, with salt and pepper hair. He was Addashield. Mark couldn¡¯t see him clearly, but Kevin zoomed in on him, and Mark knew who he was looking at. Kevin whispered the archmage¡¯s name, too, as he stared, wondering what he was looking at.

    And then Addashield raised his right arm. It was a gesture that Mark recognized from all the kinetics he had ever seen, on any show, on any news broadcast, in any story. He couldn¡¯t see it from this angle, and the sky was dark, but he knew what was going to happen. Addashield brought his arm down.

    Adamantium blades, each ten meters long and edged in silver light, swept through the two superheroes.

    Red Thunder managed to shift left. His red lightning shifted right. He lost his entire right side. Red lightning struck adamantium and sucked into the silver light around the metal. Red sparks washed across Addashield, but they touched flickers of silver light as well, and probably some adamantium inside that light. Mark couldn¡¯t tell. The happening was too far away and Kevin¡¯s hands were shaking his phone, though Kevin was desperately trying not to shake.

    Another sweep of metal blades tore Red Thunder apart.

    Mistress Storm¡¯s gale cloak hadn¡¯t afforded her any protection at all from the archmage¡¯s blades. She didn¡¯t get a followup strike. Addashield didn¡¯t need it.

    People screamed. Some asked what was wrong. Some people called out hatred and rage, at this complete affront to humanity itself. The old woman with the thick glasses shouted ¡®traitor¡¯, and worse. This only caused more confusion.

    Mark found his balance failing. He held onto Kevin and Kevin¡¯s phone slipped out of his hands as he grabbed onto Mark. The phone fell to the ground and Mark followed, crashing to his ass.

    Kevin was on his knee, having guided Mark to the ground, eyes wide, whispering, ¡°What the fuck what the fuck what the¡ª¡±

    The woman with the thick glasses cried out in horror, her wail filling the stormy sky.

    Rain started to fall hard, as all of the water that Mistress Storm had condensed out of the atmosphere began to either tumble down, or turn back into water vapor. The darkness of the storm began to pass.

    The sun came out.

    Chaos.

    For a long, short while, people fell all over the place in their attempts to scramble to get to cover, or due to the rain under foot and blinding everyone, or due to just falling to their knees. Some people managed to keep their feet under them, but Mark was pretty sure he just heard someone fall down the stairs inside, in a hurry to get down and out of the rain.

    Mark stayed there, on the ground. Kevin stayed with him¡ª

    And then a warning blared out from Kevin¡¯s phone.

    A few other phones all across the rooftop started blaring at the same time.

    Orange warning lights in the rain all shifted to brightest red, flashing white.

    Words that Mark had never heard before blared into the air.

    !!Dragon Alert!!

    Shelter in place.

 017

    It wasn¡¯t a real dragon alert.

    It might have actually been worse than that. And yet...

    The alert lasted an hour.

    Nothing happened in that hour. No buildings exploded under archmage magics. No nuclear bombs lit up any horizons at all. That is what everyone expected. None of that happened.

    In that entire hour, Mark rapidly went from confused, to furious, and then to helpful. He found himself in a way he had thought he had lost, when he lost his own faculties, when he lost his hope for a future.

    He helped people.

    ¡°Hello, ma¡¯am,¡± Mark said to an old woman who was flop sweating, as he handed her a water bottle. ¡°They¡¯re handing them out over there and I saw you could use one.¡±

    Mark had a few bottles in his hands. He was one of the people ¡®handing them out over there¡¯.

    The old woman was frazzled, but at the appearance of a water bottle in front of her face she came back to herself. ¡°Oh yes. I could¡­ Ah.¡± She took the bottle and was about to open the cap, but her hands weren¡¯t working right. Her fingers were locked in weird positions. She asked, ¡°Can you be a dear and open it up for me. My hands aren¡¯t¡­ Arthritis, you know.¡±

    Mark was sweating a little as he walked around, helping to hand out water bottles and talk to people who were losing it, so he was glad to spend another minute with the older woman. But he wasn¡¯t sure if he could actually open the bottle. He took the bottle and tried anyway, saying, ¡°Here goes! I¡¯m not sure if I can¡ª Oh! I did it.¡±

    The old woman chuckled a little bit, wondering why Mark was having trouble, and then her eyes went wide. ¡°Oh! You¡¯re a patient, too! What brought you to the PTC?¡±

    ¡°A coma.¡± Mark handed the bottle back. ¡°It¡¯s been something like 75 days since a 4 month coma, and I can finally open water bottles again.¡±

    The woman breathed out. ¡°That¡¯s a tough one. You take care of yourself now¡ª Have you heard about the phones yet?¡± She looked around the room, and then back to her phone. ¡°It¡¯s not working yet.¡±

    Mark had wanted to call his parents and they had probably wanted to call him, but the phone lines were all telling everyone the same thing, every time they tried to access exterior services. ¡®Dragon Alert is in place. Think about your own life right now.¡¯ Anytime anyone opened up their phone, that is what they saw when they tried to access the calling system. Texts didn¡¯t even work.

    The City AI was overloaded, for sure. All of its efforts were probably focused on whatever was going on out there.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t know about any of that, ma¡¯am. I guess the City AI is busy. But I heard people talking about it, and if it isn¡¯t letting us call out or do anything like that, then we¡¯re as safe as can be. It¡¯s devoting a lot of resources to helping others right now. Whoever needs the help is getting the help, and right now we don¡¯t need the help.¡±

    The old woman sighed. ¡°I¡­ I suppose so.¡± She began drinking the water and staring off into space.

    Mark nodded a little, but he was pretty sure the woman didn¡¯t register that. She was still drinking her water and looking better by the moment, though, even with all of the emotional trauma happening to her right now.

    Mark went to help someone else.

    He handed out blankets.

    He helped an old man get to the bathroom when all the other nurses and therapists were busy, and the man simply had to go.

    Mark almost faltered, head dizzy from exertion, as he carried around a basket of candy bars from the vending machines to hand out to people who wanted one, and a lot of people wanted one.

    The physical therapy center had been packed for mid-afternoon classes and therapy, so there were lots of people. 197 people, according to some number Mark heard touted somewhere along the way. Only 50 of the people there were in actually-good shape, and only a few of those people had actual powers at all. Aside from a healer of Hearthswell, the only large powers present in the building were in the form of four brawnies and one technomage. Everyone else was baseline, or baseline-adjacent. This was a Curtain Protocol therapy center, so that made sense.

    Mark passed the office where the technomage was getting yelled at by some older man who wanted to know why the phones weren¡¯t working. Mark couldn¡¯t help the old man. The old man was furious and possibly suffering from dementia, and his handler was trying to get him to leave the technomage alone.

    Mark might be able to help the others in the room, though.

    Mark stuck his head in the room and held up his basket of candy bars, trying to defuse the situation. ¡°Candy bar, anyone?¡±

    The angry man stopped yelling, confused for a moment¡ª

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The man¡¯s nurse rapidly hooked into the distraction, saying, ¡°Perfect timing, young man! Gerald. You need to keep your blood sugar controlled until Marty can come pick you back up, Gerald. So how about you take a candy bar¡ª¡± The nurse spied into Mark¡¯s basket, saying, ¡°Ah! That¡¯s a dark venus. You love those bars, right, Gerald?¡±

    Mark grabbed the bar out and held it forward.

    Gerald scowled heavily, but he looked around, saw what was happening, and he pulled himself back. He snatched the candy bar from Mark¡¯s hand and then stormed out of the room, complaining, ¡°Godsdamned AIs got jumped up powers we never should have voted in that shit in the 90s nothing good ever comes from¡­¡±

    The man¡¯s complaint vanished into all the other voices in the hallway outside the technomage¡¯s office.

    The technomage said, ¡°Thanks. That was¡­¡± The technomage shook his head, asking, ¡°Got something with granola?¡±

    Mark fished out one of those and set it on the man¡¯s desk, asking, ¡°We¡¯re not in any danger, right?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking dragon attack!¡± the man said, as he threw up his arms. The rows of servers at the back of the room all glittered with lights at that emotional motion. ¡°They¡¯re smart kaiju! But at the same time¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°It¡¯s a fucking archmage, ain¡¯t it. Not a dragon at all¡­ But we don¡¯t¡­ We don¡¯t have an archmage alert. I don¡¯t fucking know¡­¡± All the fight went out of him. ¡°Sorry, kid.¡±

    Mark did not react to the outburst, merely nodding, saying, ¡°Thanks for keeping the phones active at all. A lot of people are reading books they have saved and playing games. Solitaire is remarkably popular. That is you, right?¡±

    The man sighed. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s me. I got a few processes going on, allowing that much. The City AI ain¡¯t fighting me on that.¡±

    ¡°Is there any way I can help?¡±

    ¡°¡­ If you want¡­¡± The man returned to his computer, tapping at his keyboard, text in black boxes flashing across the screen. A few things flashed. The ¡®!!Dragon Attack!!¡¯ box appeared, the red and white striped alarm still happening. But a new box appeared, and what looked like a simple messaging system flickered to life¡­ And then the messaging system died, overtaken by the warning box yet again, along with another message to shelter in place. The man flickered through text boxes again, trying to get something to work as he told Mark, ¡°If you want to help¡­ I¡¯ve been trying to get texting back up for the last hour. If anything comes back, that will come back first. For now, I think I can set up a queue system for all the people in the building. They can send out texts and those texts will be captured by the queue and be sent out when we¡¯re not locked out of the system. Just tell people to be patient.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°That¡¯s gonna be hard to explain to people and seems like it would cause more confusion than not, and so I will not tell them that. I will instead tell them that you¡¯re working on it, and making some progress with the texting messages, and to not bother you. Want me to put a note on the door?¡±

    The man frowned at the beginning of Mark¡¯s words, but then his eyes went wide. ¡°Yes! And lock the door again. I think one of the patients has a Knack for opening doors and making them stay open; I¡¯ll just put a server in the way this time.¡±

    Mark grabbed a piece of paper from the guy¡¯s desk and wrote ¡®working on it! texting will come up first¡¯ on the paper, and then he taped it to the front of the door. ¡°Good luck!¡± he told the guy, as he locked the door and closed the door on his way out¡ª

    He was one step from the door when the door clicked and then swung back open.

    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± said the technomage, who was named Jim according to the nametag on the door. Jim got up and shut the door and shoved a chair in the way. The door still unlocked of its own accord, but the chair blocked it from opening. Jim stared at the door, which was trying and failing to open. He declared, ¡°Whatever!¡±

    Jim let it be.

    Mark continued down the way.

    An hour of waiting for something to happen turned into two hours of waiting.

    And then, 3 hours after the death of Mistress Storm and Red Thunder, all at once, every phone in every hand and pocket flickered. ¡®Dragon Alert¡¯ changed to ¡®Dragon Warning¡¯. Phone calls started happening, and everyone was talking at once on any phone they could reach.

    A panic that Mark had been ignoring, was suddenly there. Right in his face. Demanding to be noticed. Mark¡¯s heart beat hard as he grabbed his phone from his pocket right as a phone call came through from Mom. He answered, ¡°Mom! You¡¯re okay?¡±

    ¡°Oh thank the gods!¡± Mom exclaimed. ¡°You okay, Mark?¡±

    ¡°I am! We¡¯re here at the center. Stuck, sheltering in place. You?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at a client¡¯s house, was cleaning. Stuck here, too. I have to call your dad, now. Love you!¡±

    Mark was about to say he could patch them into a multicall, but as he looked at his phone, he saw a popup; a call from Dad. ¡°I have a call coming in from him right now.¡± He answered it, patching them all together. ¡°Dad! You okay?!¡±

    ¡°Markus?!¡± Mom asked¡ª

    Right as Dad said, ¡°I¡¯m here! Donna, too? You¡¯re all good? You two together right now?¡±

    And just like that, the panic that Mark hadn¡¯t allowed himself to experience, was both there, and then drifting away. Mom and Dad probably experienced the same sort of thing, their voices going from worried to accepting, right alongside his own. Mark wasn¡¯t sure exactly what was said, but he had to sit down to finish the rest of the call¡ª

    ¡°It was Addashield, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Mom asked, bringing Mark back to the moment.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard. ¡°It was. I recognized him. I think other people are already talking about it but¡­ It wasn¡¯t a sure thing, right? It could have been an illusion?¡±

    Mom said nothing.

    Dad said, ¡°When they let us leave the dock to come back home, I expect to see enforcers there.¡±

    Mark made sure no one could directly overhear him as he asked, ¡°What happened to him?¡±

    Mom hissed, ¡°I don¡¯t know and I am SO MAD I¡ª¡± She cut herself off.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Dad said, ¡°We¡¯ll find out more than the public, I¡¯m sure. Don¡¯t talk to anyone yet about this. Ignore it until we¡¯re back home.¡±

    ¡°I was already ignoring it, so that¡¯s fine by me,¡± Mark said.

 018

    Dad turned out to be correct about the enforcers.

    The house was lit up with the steady lights of police cruisers, and not just the normal kind. A hovercar waited in the front lawn, its sleek silver exterior looking positively Xerkonan in sterility. It didn¡¯t have any visible exterior windows, but it did have a rotating hologram on the top that read ¡®POLICE¡¯ over and over again in a ring, in bright white glows.

    Mom and Dad were there, waiting on the front porch.

    Mark got out of the autocar and tried to rush across the lawn, into his parents arms. The police nearby let it happen. And then Mom and Dad were asking if he was okay and Mark told them he was worried about them more, and then Mom said something about it was the parents¡¯ duty to worry about their kids, not the other way around. Mom had gotten home first, according to her. Dad had gotten home a minute before Mark.

    A detective in a brown coat and a paladin wearing bright white armor waited till Mark had had a moment with his parents to descend upon that meeting. They came in with measured words and requests to speak that weren¡¯t actually requests at all.

    The Paladin of Freyala introduced himself as David Turner. With Freyala¡¯s human last name as his own that marked him as a member of the elite in Freyala¡¯s church. The detective was just a guy, high up in the ranks of Orange City, who called himself John Smith. It might have been a fake name, but he had a business card, so Mark assumed he was legit. Paladin David was eyeing John Smith a whole lot, though, along with Mom and Dad, so John was probably very high up. Maybe even a hero for the city.

    There were a lot of those that Mark simply didn¡¯t know about.

    Mom cut through the meet-and-greet, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Addashield?¡±

    Paladin David and Detective John weren¡¯t quite sure how to answer that.

    David said, ¡°I¡¯d like to talk to your son separately.¡±

    Mom was about to object¡ª

    John said, ¡°Mister and Misses Careed? Can we speak in a different room?¡±

    Mom and Dad looked at each other. Acceptance came a moment later.

    And that was how Mark found himself in a relatively unused room on the first floor, on his side of the house, away from Mom and Dad.

    Paladin David got right into it, saying, ¡°Sloane Addashield killed Red Thunder and Mistress Storm today. The news has already broken across the world. Do you know why he could have done this?¡±

    Mark understood that he wasn¡¯t really asking for Mark¡¯s knowledge of why; they had to know why Addashield had done this. They probably talked to a lot of people already¡­

    Because this had to have started 60-ish days ago, or something like that.

    Addashield had failed his Contract.

    Mark hadn¡¯t even known. But that¡¯s what had to have happened, right?

    Mark said, ¡°He failed his apprentice Contract thing, and you think he¡¯s Falling¡­ or he¡¯s already Fallen?¡±

    Mark hoped he hadn¡¯t Fallen, but¡­ It was a foolish sort of hope.

    ¡°He¡¯s Falling right now,¡± David said, standing upright, like he had confirmed many different things all at once. Mark could only guess at what could have been going through the man¡¯s mind. David continued, ¡°We¡¯re not sure what he is after, but he is responsible for about 9,100 deaths as of 61 days ago. Most everyone who had an important connection to him was warned off 70 days ago. Most of those went into hiding. Addashield has found some of them already, and killed them most gruesomely. You¡¯re far, far down on the list of contacts Addashield had ever touched, but because this whole thing started with a failure of a stipulation in a Contract that you were slated to help him fulfill, you are near the top of Orange City¡¯s concerns right now. Addashield hasn¡¯t fully Fallen. It is possible he might come after you to do a Tutorial-accompaniment. That was the original plan, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    Mark had to sit down, so he sat down.

    David waited.

    Mark said, ¡°It was the plan, yes. I don¡¯t know how he would have done it. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone slipping into someone else¡¯s Tutorial, but Addashield could have done it¡­ I assume? He had this history of doing this with apprentices, he said. He said he was one of the people who helped Malaqua tame the Demon City, and so he had leeway with the System in weird ways.¡±

    David was sitting in a chair in front of Mark, as he said, ¡°Addashield is a Hero of Humanity. He has done a lot of good. Many of the systems we use to safeguard this world were built by him. He¡¯s a metalmage. You know those big pillars that guard the entrance of the bay? He made them. Decades ago. He made them. Your family¡¯s fish tanks are modeled after them. He removed four of those bay pillars after he killed the two heroes.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart thumped hard. He knew about the Hero of Humanity, but he hadn¡¯t known about the bay pillars, either that Addashield had made them, or that he had removed them.

    David continued, ¡°He ripped out our automated defense systems all across the entire south wall, slicing turrets off of the walls. He killed our main mass-killing heroes. We¡¯ll get the turrets fixed in under 20 days. We won¡¯t be able to fix the pillars within four years. We put up stopgap measures, and they¡¯ll hold, but we can already tell the shape of what is to come. The bay is going to flood with real monsters, and Orange City might have to be completely evacuated.¡±

    Mark went beyond panic, circling back into a comfortable battle-flow that he usually entered when he was fighting for his life, or sparring deeply.

    With a calm voice, Mark asked, ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m giving you information on the full problem. I hope you give me some information back. If Addashield should show, we don¡¯t want him to be able to lie to you to get you to do whatever he wants.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°He was a good man. A Hero of Humanity. I went into this apprentice thing full-knowing that it would injure me, though the extent of it was unknown at the time.¡±

    David quirked an eyebrow. ¡°¡­ You still defend him?¡±

    Mark faltered. ¡°¡­ I suppose I shouldn¡¯t. But¡­ None of this feels real? Addashield¡­¡± Mark tried, ¡°People don¡¯t kill each other. It¡¯s unthinkable. It¡¯s all us against the monsters so why would¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he was saying. He went back to normal territory, asking, ¡°You said he hasn¡¯t Fallen? His demon hasn¡¯t replaced his soul?¡±

    ¡°Demon-replaced people act differently than Addashield is acting right now. Do you know about that psychological theory? Id, ego, superego?¡±

    Mark¡¯s brain felt like spinning mush. He recalled, ¡°Id is the feeling/acting part of a person, with no regard for conscious thought at all. Superego is the moral center; the part that guides us, like the words of a god or teachers or whatever. Ego is the self; the mediator between the pleasure-seeking, pain-avoidance Id, and the guiding-principles Superego.¡±

    David was a little impressed. ¡°You just remembered that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on the ¡®understanding demons¡¯ part of the Tutorial prep, under the prep they give you for understanding things beyond the Tutorial¡­ Which isn¡¯t all that much, really.¡± Mark added, ¡°And I read up about it after this whole Addashield-thing started. He has a demon. He wanted me to meet with demons and deny them. It was important to study.¡±

    Mark had studied for the GED, too, and he had passed that a while ago.

    David nodded, though he regarded Mark a bit more critically. He said, ¡°Demons are Id personified.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°They do everything possible to get what they want, and what they want is pleasure in all forms, including stuff that humans don¡¯t consider pleasure at all, like pain.¡±

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Slightly incorrect.¡± David said, ¡°Demons want experience. Living experience. Addashield¡¯s demon wants experience. If you see Addashield and you have to deal with him, you can play along in some ways, and Addashield might even try to help you in those ways, but his demon will only care about experience-feeling, and if Addashield doesn¡¯t do as his demon wants, we think he will be slapped with Infractions. If he gets too many of those then Addashield will either fall¡­ or we¡¯ll reach a worse outcome. He and his demon will become one person, and that Dragon Alert that went out today will be a real Dragon Alert.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay?¡± Mark said, half desperate, half wondering why the fuck David was telling him this. He tried to think of what to do next. ¡°What do I do next? What happens now? Since Addashield tore out parts of the Bay Wall and that other stuff, that means that he¡¯s planning on coming back, or letting a kaiju get Orange City?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about the kaiju.¡± David said, ¡°You do need to worry that we fully expect him to come after you when you¡¯re healthy enough to undergo the Tutorial, as you had planned.¡±

    Clarity came in an instant.

    They knew a lot and Mark barely knew anything at all.

    Which was pretty normal.

    They had plans.

    Mark said, ¡°You want me to¡­ to go through with that?¡±

    Mark had a lot of sudden concerns, from being completely unprepared for Tutorial, to¡­ to a lot, really.

    ¡°We do want you to go through with that,¡± David said, ¡°Addashield has given us some hints as to what we can do to help him, to prevent this mess, and to allow him to take up his Old Contract. They might be false hints; ploys of the demon. But we see a way out of this with a good outcome on the other side, and we want to take it.

    ¡°To that end, we¡¯re going to give you the same body treatments that Daihoon nobility gives their children before the Tutorial. It¡¯s intense magic and it should fix you right up. We¡¯re also shipping your parents to the other side of the country to put them out of harm¡¯s way as much as we can.¡± David said, ¡°That¡¯s what John is telling your mother and father right now, but they are not being told any of these specifics. Share what you want with them, but know that information can be a curse sometimes. Do they have any place they¡¯d like to go in particular?¡±

    Wait.

    Mark ignored the specifics of what David had just said.

    David was talking like Mark¡¯s participation was implicit. Expected.

    Mark made some quick decisions, then asked, ¡°To make sure¡­ I get no say in this?¡±

    ¡°You could say no. And then you would be dooming the world to a Fallen Archmage, at least.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    So no real option at all.

    And they would be giving him some sort of body treatment¡­ Okay.

    Okay.

    Mark thought for a second longer. He wanted to help Addashield regain himself, didn¡¯t he? Yes. He did.

    And then, when Addashield wasn¡¯t under the influence of a demon anymore, then¡­

    Then what?

    Then it was out of Mark¡¯s hands. Not his problem.

    But his problem right now was the choice between helping a Hero of Humanity come back to humanity, or to let him Fall to the demons.

    Mark made a decision.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    David studied Mark for a moment, before saying, ¡°Our hope is that if we pump you full of enough perfect-grade cultivation herbs that you can fully recover in under a week and still be eligible for the Tutorial. Addashield will find out in whatever ways he finds these things, and he will make plans to fulfill his Contract with his demon. To be clear, this is just one possible scenario for how we deal with him, most of our efforts are located elsewhere, and this is not safe at all. You are being put in danger for the greater good. We are sorry about this.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Mark said, ¡°So you¡¯re going to clear out the neighborhood, right? I¡¯m not too sure on how any of this works, but I know what kaiju can do, and dragons are smart kaiju, right?¡±

    ¡°¡­ We¡¯re clearing out the neighborhood,¡± David said, wary about Mark. Probably with how fast Mark had agreed. David stood. ¡°I imagine you¡¯re going to need to convince your parents to evacuate.¡±

    Mark rose on wobbly feet and then steadied himself. He looked up at David. ¡°I imagine I will.¡±

    David regarded Mark a little. ¡°You¡¯re rather easygoing for a baseline in the middle of trauma recovery. I expected a lot more yelling.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°You came in here, told me that you¡¯re going to pump me full of ¡®perfect grade cultivation¡¯ herbs that will heal me in a week, and I might get to help rescue a Hero of Humanity from their demon. Of course I¡¯m on board with this.¡± Mark added, ¡°I barely know what I want to do with my life and talking to people worries me more than it probably should, but here¡¯s a clear goal in front of me? Yes! Give me all the clear goals. Clear goals are fantastic.¡±

    Paladin David regarded Mark in what seemed an easier, better manner. It reminded Mark of what happened when his Tutorial instructor, Gravel, saw the depths of Mark¡¯s conviction for the first time. Or, to a lesser extent, like when Mark had asked Kevin to go harder on him, and Kevin ordered all those new supplement supplies.

    David said, ¡°It¡¯ll be hard.¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯ll be hard.¡±

    David smirked a little. ¡°Let¡¯s go see your parents.¡±

    Mark walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, lightly gripping the railing that they had installed for grandpa years ago, and simply never removed. David walked behind him. Mark listened to Mom yelling at Detective John.

    There was a confrontation that went back and forth with small words and loud words and Mark was there, and Mom slapped Paladin David, and then stormed away. Mark barely understood what had happened, but he said some things to Dad and everything seemed easier. Dad gave Mark a quick hug, telling him this wasn¡¯t over, which could have meant many different things, and then he followed Mom out into the night, where police lights illuminated the swampy air, and moths crowded the globe-lights of the porch.

    Mark stood with Detective John and Paladin David in the kitchen, and asked them both, ¡°So we never did introductions, for real? Is this some big East Coast Union operation? Or something smaller? I can¡¯t imagine that Addashield doesn¡¯t have better things to do than worry about me¡­ Or rather, bigger enemies for his demon to kill.¡±

    Detective John easily said, ¡°Listen up, Mark. I¡¯m going to tell you this once:

    ¡°If you¡¯re on board with this, then there will be no more information given to you about anything at all. A House AI will be installed in this location to monitor and assist you with your special medicines. You¡¯ll get drop shipments, and you¡¯ll be expected to do most of the prep on those medications yourself.¡± John stressed, ¡°Anyone we leave here with you will be in danger of being murdered by Addashield in order to get you to do what he wants, even if you¡¯re already on board with this whole crazy idea. You might be here for a week, which is the minimum timeframe for complete rehabilitation, or you might be here for 25 days, at which point the medications you¡¯ll be taking will push you past the point where you can take the Tutorial.

    ¡°The first part of this plan was getting you on board. We passed that. Thanks for agreeing.

    ¡°The second part is making sure that Addashield is aware that we¡¯re making this offer open to him. Since he¡¯s been angling for us to do this, in small words caught here and there on camera, then we expect him to agree.

    ¡°When we know that Addashield is going to take this offer, then you¡¯ll get your first drop shipment.

    ¡°Maybe Addashield will show up and stay here for a week to try and influence you to do what his demons wants, which is to make more demon mages. That is the best possible outcome for all of this, and we will simply leave you all alone if that happens. Justice can come in whatever form it needs to come after the real danger is over.

    ¡°Are you on board?¡±

    Mark instantly saw some holes in the plan, but the biggest one was there at the end. ¡®Influence you to make more demon mages¡¯. If Mark became a demon mage in any capacity then some Paladins would murder him, for sure, and they¡¯d be right to do it. A demon couldn¡¯t force Mark to do anything under duress though, right? Mark was pretty sure he had read that part right in the demon studies he had done while getting his GED done.

    But other than that, Mark was pretty sure he was good with this plan.

    Heroes did weird plans to save the world all the time, right?

    But there was so much left unsaid. From ¡®Detective John Smith¡¯s¡¯ real name, to the level of organization behind this action, to the exact nature of the threat, to Mark¡¯s personal worry about being alone with a near-Fallen, almost-dragon. And Addashield was still an archmage. He had killed a lot of people already.

    But before that, for the last 340-odd years of Addashield¡¯s life, he was a hero. He deserved to be brought back from this edge.

    Mark decided it was better that he didn¡¯t ask questions; that he didn¡¯t know all of the evil that Addashield had done while Falling.

    Mark repeated what he had already said before, ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

    He saw the moment when both David and John ¡ªif those were their real names¡ª considered Mark already dead. David was first, his smile remaining, but his eyes going blank, staring out past Mark.

    John managed to keep up appearances more than David, his eyes smiling right alongside his mouth, as he said, ¡°Orange City thanks you for your effort! And hey! Let me be the first to congratulate you on your full recovery. It¡¯s a week early, but you¡¯ll get there faster than you realize. And then you have your whole life ahead of you!¡±

    Mark was pretty sure he disliked ¡®Detective John¡¯.

    The paladin was okay, though.

 019

    Mark stepped out onto the porch.

    Mom sat on the bench on the porch, crying into her hands. Dad rubbed her back as he sat next to her.

    Dad looked up first. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this, Mark.¡±

    Mom shuddered. She did not look up.

    Mark had a lot of thoughts bouncing in his head for the last few hours. He put some of them to words. ¡°I have a chance to help a Hero of Humanity come back from the brink. In the worst case, it¡¯s one life given in pursuit of a higher calling. In the best case, everyone gets what they want and more people don¡¯t have to die to a Fallen archmage or dragon, and Addashield can stand trial for what he has done already. I have to do it. I hope you can forgive me if the worst should¡­¡± He teared up. ¡°But if the worst should happen, then it¡¯ll happen to me, and that¡¯s fine. Grandpa would be proud, and we should all be so lucky to be able to spend our lives helping others.¡± He held back a sob, and said, ¡°You¡¯d do the same if it was you. Humanity helps each other. That is what we do. That is how we survive.¡±

    Dad shuddered, tears flowing freely, quietly. He looked upon Mark, and his words failed him. He was proud, terrified, and bereft all at once. He could only nod.

    Mom breathed in, sobbed once more, and then sat up. With tears streaming down her puffy red face, she said, ¡°You¡¯re taking on too much responsibility, Mark. You can barely walk without wobbling. You¡¯re still a year away from being able to train with a weapon again and Addashield is a monster. Even with these¡­ these dangerous drugs...¡± She stood up, looked Mark in the eyes, and said, ¡°Promise me that if you need to, you will take the Tutorial teleport and escape him, and then use the option to appear somewhere in Daihoon.¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°I promise.¡±

    Mom hugged him tight, and Mark fell into the embrace. Dad hugged both of them.

    Mom softly said, ¡°Demons can¡¯t be reasoned with, Mark. Don¡¯t try to reason with them, and never believe what they say.¡±

    Dad added, ¡°You¡¯ve seen the movies, Mark. Those movies are not far off from the truth. Demons are not people.¡±

    Mom whispered, ¡°All they care about is what they can get out of a person. They don¡¯t actually need anything at all. They¡­¡± She stopped. She breathed.

    Mark held on to both of them.

    Some time later, Detective John spoke up behind Mark, ¡°Pack up your essentials. We need you two unfindable, because Addashield¡¯s demon will absolutely use you to force Mark into accepting a demonic Contract.¡± He told Mark, ¡°Addashield¡¯s demon will probably use a lot of people to try and force you into a demonic Contract with one of her brethren. You don¡¯t have to accept a Contract you don¡¯t want. Demons don¡¯t respect humans as anything other than diversions, but they do recognize other demons, and there¡¯s not a single demon that will accept a Contract made for them by another demon at spellpoint. Whatever lies and truths you might hear in the future, believe that, Mark. You don¡¯t have to accept a Contract you don¡¯t like.¡±

    Mark let go of his parents to hear the Detective, but Mom still held onto one of his arms while Dad held a shoulder. Mark said, ¡°I understand.¡±

    Mom tensed. Dad¡¯s grip firmed.

    ¡°Good,¡± Detective John said, ¡°I want Mom and Dad cleared out in an hour.¡± He turned to the police and other people standing around in the night, by their cars, by the street, all of them wearing dark colors, some with wind floating their sleeves, others with headgear with a lot of lights, and some who seemed not there, until Mark noticed them, and then they were gone again. A lot of active heroes. Detective John called out, ¡°Wake the neighborhood! We¡¯re evacuating everyone, as planned. Red line to 5 kilometers out, orange beyond that. Move!¡±

    People got moving.

    Mark kinda stood to the side, in the living room.

    Mom and Dad already had some go-bags packed, because any sane person would have those packed. But they were going on an extended vacation; not just an evacuation. Most people would expect to be gone for a month, at the earliest. Maybe forever. Or at least that¡¯s what Mark overheard as people moved.

    Some technomage came in and did some stuff to all the electronic devices in the house, sparks flickering from her fingertips as she moved throughout the property. The last thing she did was install a bread-box-sized silver cube into one corner of the living room by plugging it into a socket and then doing some sort of magic to it and the walls. The silver box grew into the wall with a bunch of silver tendrils. The power flickered, and then came back.

    ¡°House isolated and AI installed,¡± the technomage announced to Paladin David.

    David nodded. He had stood near Mark this whole time. Mark wasn¡¯t sure why David stood by him, but when Mark stepped toward the hallway to see whatever someone was doing to his room down the hall, David said, ¡°Please stay here for now, Mark.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sure.¡±

    Mark stayed put.

    Brawny soldiers came in, looking like normal people, but they left the house carrying suitcases that were absolutely stuffed and moving furniture around everywhere. Someone asked Mom about accommodations for an archmage and Mom said something about grandpa¡¯s bedroom being the best one, and that they had never really done anything to the room except clean it up. It was across the hall from Mark¡¯s room.

    The officers went into that room and did stuff.

    ¡°Will this actually work?¡± Mark asked Paladin David. ¡°The whole¡­ bring him back to himself, thing?¡±

    ¡°Probably not.¡± David looked down at Mark, his armor seeming to shine in the mundane light of the living room. ¡°But it might.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Paladins are demon hunters, aren¡¯t they? Have you ever killed an archmage before?¡±

    ¡°No one has killed an archmage in a non-compliant Contract in 550 years. It simply doesn¡¯t happen. Killing a Fallen is a more realistic goal. We kill Fallen of all types, all the time. The last non-compliant archmage was 77 years ago, in 1970, in the middle of the Reveal; the breaking of the Veil. We couldn¡¯t do a damned thing to him, either. His non-compliance cost your world much of India, and was responsible for Malaqua rising from those ashes and becoming a god. In the end, that archmage turned dragon, rather than simply die, rather than become Fallen. The dragon was much easier prey. Our previous generations killed the resulting dragon in under a week.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Much of the Reveal was a time of great upheaval across the Two Worlds. Mark had only ever really learned North American history in high school and middle school. He didn¡¯t know exactly what Paladin David was referring to, but he had heard some of Malaqua¡¯s history, just as he knew all of the other gods of the New Pantheon.

    Mark had one question, though, that burned brightly in his mind.

    ¡°You said ¡®your world¡¯? About Earth?¡± Mark asked, ¡°You¡¯re from Daihoon, then?¡±

    Mark had never met someone from Daihoon before. Not in person, anyway. David looked like any other sort of human, and he was. Probably. The Veil had gone up an estimated 5,000 years ago, though, splitting humanity from itself. Not much had changed biologically between people, but, now that Mark was looking, David¡¯s eyes were a bit purplish-blue, and his blond hair was a bit reddish here and there. The guy looked in his 40s, and maybe he was.

    But he was a paladin, and the gods didn¡¯t come back until after the Reveal. That¡¯s why Mark didn¡¯t recognize that he was daihoonian. Paladins were a thing over here, on Earth. They had yet to catch on much over on Daihoon. Too much culture over there that didn¡¯t believe in gods.

    Maybe David had parents from Earth? That happened a lot. Or the other way around happened, too.

    Or maybe Mark¡¯s understanding of the world was limited, which, ya know, was the most reasonable explanation.

    David said, ¡°Any other time I¡¯d tell you about it, but I can¡¯t right now. Informational security.¡±

    ¡­ Oh.

    He didn¡¯t want Addashield learning of people from Mark and then going after those people.

    Mark privately vowed to watch his words as much as he could¡­ Which was just a normal thing to do around an archmage anyway, right?

    - - - -

    Mark hugged Mom and Dad once more on the porch.

    Detective John interrupted the moment, saying, ¡°If we stick around any longer, someone could get killed. We need to leave.¡±

    Mom held Mark close, saying, ¡°I love you, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Be safe, Mark,¡± Dad said, ¡°And in a month you¡¯ll be Awakened and we can go on vacation somewhere, or something. I love you.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll be big and strong again, too!¡± Mom said, trying to smile through the tears.

    Mark said, ¡°I love you, both.¡±

    This neighborhood of Gladegrove wasn¡¯t too crowded with houses, but Mark heard people down the roads yelling at officers about how they didn¡¯t want to move, while other people were already packed in their cars and driving away as fast as possible. Lights were on in every single home.

    Some cop muttered to her friend about how it was ridiculous that they weren¡¯t evacuating faster.

    Mom and Dad both heard that, too. Mark hugged them tighter, and then he let go.

    They let go a second later.

    ¡°Bye, Mom. Dad. See you later.¡±

    ¡°See you, son.¡±

    ¡°Love you, honey.¡±

    ¡°Love you.¡±

    Mark watched them get into the hovering police car, and then take off down the street.

    It had all happened so fast.

    Holy shit, that had happened fast.

    That thought struck Mark like a punch to the gut.

    Mark stuck around on the porch for a little while longer, in the night, under the globe lights of the porch. Moths flew everywhere, casting wild shadows this way and that. Mark felt cold. He was still vastly underweight compared to what he used to be, though for his height of 5¡¯8¡±, 125 pounds wasn¡¯t that bad.

    He shivered in his gym clothes.

    Paladin David stood there with him for a little while, before he went into the house and found some hot cocoa and made Mark a mug. They sat on the porch together, and Mark felt less cold by the minute as he cradled the mug and sipped the cocoa.

    Soldiers called out that their neighbor Jandon¡¯s house was clear, and then they strung red and white warning tape across the pillars that led up to their porch. They did the same thing to the Williamson¡¯s house down the road. Mark assumed they were doing more to other houses.

    David said, ¡°They¡¯ll eventually get all of the area evacuated, but it won¡¯t happen till tomorrow. I¡¯m leaving now, though.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°You couldn¡¯t stand up to an archmage, eh?¡±

    ¡°No. I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Well thanks for telling the truth, but fucking hell that¡¯s depressing.¡±

    David grinned. And then he put his grin away. ¡°This is probably going to work out exactly as we want. You¡¯ll get your first shipment of drugs by drone tomorrow, along with ready-to-eat meals. I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s all labeled for you. The House AI will be able to help you organize further, if needed, but it shouldn¡¯t be needed.¡± David stood up. ¡°Demons won¡¯t work at the behest of other demons, so no matter what you are told, know that you don¡¯t have to accept a Contract forced upon you by some other demon¡¯s actions. They actually hate it when a mortal is predisposed to welcome them into their soul.¡±

    Mark stood, and he wasn¡¯t wobbly at all. ¡°Detective John Smith said the same thing¡­ That¡¯s not his real name, is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a fake name. He¡¯s someone high up. I couldn¡¯t tell you who.¡±

    Mark breathed. And then he said, ¡°So all of this is predicated on the idea that this will actually work to get Addashield back to civilization. I got a House AI now, and drugs that I assume cost a fortune, or which are gated behind knowing the right people, or having the right connections.¡± Mark asked his question, ¡°What has Addashield said out there that makes you think this is going to work how you want it to work?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t answer that one. Good night, and fair travels, Mark Careed.¡±

    After a moment, Mark nodded. ¡°¡­ Fair travels.¡±

    David walked down the porch stairs, into the night.

    Mark blinked, and somehow David was gone.

    ¡°¡­ Maybe a speedster?¡± Mark openly guessed. ¡°Teleporter?¡± And then Mark stepped out into the night, holding onto the railing of the porch, calling out into the sky, ¡°You can come over tomorrow if you want, Addashield!¡±

    Was it stupid to call out to a near-Fallen archmage?

    Yes.

    Was Mark being stupid, or was he being smart about the chances to make this work out right?

    He had no idea. He felt honorable, though. Maybe that was more important than being smart or dumb. Smarts and stupids only mattered when you knew all or near-all of the forces in a system. Mark knew nothing about anything right now. And so: Honor. Honor could get you through the unknown, and if you died, then at least you didn¡¯t hurt others on your way out.

    Mark went back inside the house.

 020

    Mark woke up to an empty house, which was fucking weird. He had no idea what to do except lay in bed for a little while. Dad wasn¡¯t making breakfast, and the scents of bacon and bread did not fill the air. Mom wasn¡¯t doing laundry, so the machine downstairs wasn¡¯t rumbling the walls gently at all.

    Mark got up strongly, because he knew what he needed to do.

    He needed to make his own breakfast and see if the supplies were outside, and then he needed to take whatever he needed to take before he trained for the day. On habit, though, the first thing he did was check his phone.

    The phone blinked as Mark picked it up.

    A stylized orange eyeball appeared on the screen and a masculine voice said, ¡°Greetings, Mark Careed. I am your new House AI, advanced model Q-6580. Would you like to name me, or shall I name myself?¡±

    Mark took a moment, then asked, ¡°Are you a True AI, with a soul?¡±

    ¡°I am not. We expect Addashield to obliterate this house and everyone in it if things don¡¯t go his way, so Orange City has not devoted living people to the task of assisting you. I am a basic House AI.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Name yourself.¡±

    The phone beeped.

    ¡° ¡®Quark¡¯ is my designation, until you state otherwise. I am here if you need help. Entering observation mode.¡±

    Mark was still alone, which was fine. He was able to get around the house on his own, now, and so that is what he did. The fridge was half-full of junk; Dad was supposed to go to the store tomorrow, or rather today, but that didn¡¯t happen. The pantry had pastas and canned goods. That was fine. Mark¡¯s protein powders were there at the top shelf, and he managed to get one down by himself mostly fine. At least he didn¡¯t drop the thing and have it spill everywhere. His strength was nowhere near where it should be, but he wasn¡¯t that weak anymore.

    The porch was empty of deliveries.

    He looked left and right, and saw nothing except the normal porch. There were warning stakes stuck in the ground all around the property, each of them holding a red-and-white-striped dragon-warning flag. Some of the warning flags even read ¡®DRAGON¡¯ on them.

    There were no deliveries.

    Mark asked the House AI, ¡°Hey, Quark! Am I getting a shipment today of fancy and expensive medicines?¡±

    His phone in his pocket said, ¡°The shipment is delayed. It will be here in approximately an hour and 30 minutes.¡±

    ¡°Plan¡¯s still on, then,¡± Mark said to himself.

    Mark went back inside and soon he was smiling a little as he scrambled eggs and put them into the pan, while chopped potatoes airfried in the oven. Hot sauce, mayo, and cheese made a great binder for a breakfast burrito, and with all of that rolled up, Mark got to enjoy a really great burrito.

    As he sat back in his chair, holding his belly, he grinned a little.

    It was easy to pretend that everything was going to work out fine, so that is what Mark did and what he would continue to do, until proven otherwise. Eventually he¡¯d be able to make his own decisions in life, but for now, he was still injured, and he was ready to be uninjured. Back to full strength!

    And then further beyond!

    Mark waited to make himself his usual muskleaf tea because whatever he was getting today might not be compatible with the stuff he was already taking¡­

    ¡­ Actually.

    ¡°Quark? Is my dietary schedule going to change with the new supplements?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Do not take any of your old supplements.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Glad I asked.¡±

    Mark could still get on with the rest of his day, though.

    Mark did most of his physical therapy at the center, but the garage had an old multi-station gym with a pulldown bar, a shoulder press, a curls and leg raises area, and a chest and back thing. An actual bench press station and a bar sat to the side, while a few 5 kilo weight stacks sat behind that, all covered in cobwebs. Mark used to use this thing all the time, but he hadn¡¯t used any of it in over half a year. It was too high-spec for him right now.

    ¡­ Mostly.

    He could maybe use it now? Had he recovered enough? It was all beginner workout equipment anyway. Welp! No place better to start than at the beginning!

    Mark pulled out his phone... and paused.

    He looked up.

    ¡°Quark? Can you record my numbers for me? I don¡¯t want to record them myself if I don¡¯t have to.¡±

    ¡°Certainly,¡± came Quark¡¯s orange voice from his phone. ¡°Your current height is 172 centimeters. Current weight is 57 kilograms. Last recorded max bench press is 20 kilos, deadlift is 30, squat is 25.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I guess metric is fine?¡± Mark rapidly decided that metric was fine, and then he said, ¡°Bah! I only did two reps at those numbers! That doesn¡¯t count as my current max! We gotta pump those numbers up!¡±

    ¡°I have been installed with a Physical Therapy Module and thus I must inform you that you are showing good progress, and injury could have you backslide. And you performed three reps at those levels, so they are your accepted max ranges.¡± Quark added, ¡°Also, your delivery is being delivered at this moment. The time schedule moved up for reasons that are beyond my knowledge.¡±

    Mark happily ignored the rusted weight machine and the bench to the side, eagerly running toward the front of the house¡ª

    Mark almost tripped, but a half-fumbled grab on the side of the house was enough to save him a fall. He steadied himself and he walked out of the garage and onto the driveway just in time to see three drones fly down from the sky; two large and one small. The small one dropped a small box on the front porch, being very careful about it. The two larger drones dropped two identical office-chair-sized boxes onto the concrete in front of the porch. They were less careful about their cargo.

    The drones flew away, zipping back into the sky and out of sight.

    Cracking the first big box open, Mark saw that the larger ones were filled to the brim with high-calorie food bars. With a whole lot of huffing and puffing, Mark managed to get the 100 pound boxes into the house. They didn¡¯t need to be refrigerated, so getting them into the house was far enough, and that took a good 10 minutes anyway. Mark was huffing and puffing by the end of it, so that was as far as they got.

    And then he turned his attention to the small box.

    He tried not to be too excited, but how could one not be excited by their salvation sitting in a box on their porch? That was why Mark had left that one for last. He knew that as soon as he opened it, he wouldn¡¯t care about leaving the calorie bars in the sun for a while. With careful hands, Mark picked up the small box and held it tight.

    Mark opened the smaller box on the kitchen counter, and it was like Christmas, but so much better.

    Inside the cardboard was a white polystyrene box, and inside that was an ice pack and four smaller boxes, each looking like colorful blobs under bubble wrap. Mark carefully unpacked the boxes from their smaller protections and set them out in front of him. There was a blue box, a green box, an orange box, and a white box. A set of instructions came with them; a thick book, tucked into the side, with many pages to them. The front of the book read:

    ¡®FOR MARK CAREED. Balanced for his physiology only. OTHER USERS MIGHT SUFFER GRAVE CONSEQUENCES¡¯.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s neat, I guess?¡± Mark rapidly decided, ¡°Actually, that¡¯s¡­ incredibly cool. Quark? Do you know how expensive this medicine set is?¡±

    ¡°That information is not part of my database.¡±

    Mark flipped through the instruction book for half a minute, not really understanding what he was reading. It was a whole bunch of medical stuff, though; that was easy enough to see. Seemed like a bunch of warnings, too. He set the book aside and opened each box to see what he was dealing with.

    Each box contained a small glass bottle of colored liquid with an eyedropper applicator for a cap.

    ¡°So back to the instructions¡­¡± Mark mumbled at himself.

    There were a lot of instructions.

    Mark asked, ¡°Quark? Can you help with telling me about this medication?¡±

    Quark obliged, ¡°One drop of each colored liquid with every meal. You might be eating as many as 6 meals per day. A full half-kilo calorie bar counts as a meal. You have enough bars to last 30 days. They will last longer if you have real food occasionally.

    ¡°White drops if you¡¯re feeling nauseous/tired/restless or unable to focus, which will happen after the third colored dose, on average, at your body weight. When you gain more weight the necessity of the white drops will go down to every four meals. I will be monitoring your status and might tell you to take more white drops as necessary.

    ¡°Occasional slips of too much colored liquid is okay, but do not make it a habit.

    ¡°Missed color doses are unacceptable.

    ¡°When you are a day from entering the Tutorial then you will discontinue the colored drops and spend that next day eating 1 white drop with each meal.¡±

    Mark nodded along. He decided, ¡°You keep track of that, please.¡±

    ¡°I will do this.¡±

    ¡°Can I have a second meal then to start? Or do I need to wait? What about exercising?¡±

    ¡°Once you start on the colored drops your appetite will soar and so will your energy. You can work until you get hungry, which will take about 2 hours. You can eat and take drops and eat again with more drops for a maximum of 10 hours per day. Eventually you will reach a point where you are tired and then I will tell you to take a white drop and go to bed.¡±

    Mark smiled at that. He looked at his skinny arms, and at his thin thighs, and at the flabbiness of his gut. He used to have a 6 pack, but now he was flabby because he had lost a lot of muscle and he was eating a lot to gain it all back, and fat came along faster than abs. All of it was slow going, though.

    But with this¡­

    This would change that, right?

    Mark asked, ¡°And this will fix my body, for real?¡±

    ¡°Yes. This is dangerous medication. Do not make emergency services come out here to rescue you. Addashield might be nearby and watching right now. Follow my instructions for eating and medication, please.¡±

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Heard and understood, Quark! Thanks for being here!¡±

    Quark beeped in acknowledgment.

    Mark grabbed one of the calorie bars, smiling as he tore it open and revealed¡­ boring brown. Not even, like, a chocolate brown. Just an even grain of brown stuff, stamped into a bar. He took a bite.

    ¡­ He took another bite, to try and see if, yes? There was a taste.

    Mark was tasting what he was tasting.

    There was a taste.

    Mark looked at the bar as he chewed. He swallowed and asked Quark, ¡°It tastes like brown? Or like¡­ Well. The texture is good? There is a taste here. I cannot describe it.¡±

    It was kind of a ¡®brown¡¯ flavor. ¡®Dark brown¡¯. Sunset brown?

    Quark supplied, ¡° ¡®Food Bar¡¯ is the accepted terminology for the flavor you are experiencing. It is a specific mix of many different counteracting agents meant to nullify the flavors present, because the flavors present are technically bones of many magical beasts, insects of many sorts, grains of many sorts, and various vegetables. The base flavor is terrible, and sugars and such cannot be added without compromising the nutritional matrix. What is left of the flavor produces an item that often is remarked upon such that people would eat it second-to-last over anything else.¡±

    Mark grinned as he looked at the bar. ¡°Insect! I never got to try any of that stuff. Mom won¡¯t let it in the house, but they do that all the time in Daihoon, right?¡±

    ¡°That is beyond my knowledge.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°Monster bones, though? There isn¡¯t a magic-influence problem there?¡±

    ¡°Carefully treated to remove all traces of magic.¡±

    ¡°That explains that.¡±

    Mark set the bar down and then carefully unscrewed the top from the bottle of ¡®blue¡¯. None of these things had names, but they sure had a lot of warnings in the instruction booklet. Mark kinda felt bad for all of the stuff that Kevin had helped him get, but this stuff was the good stuff, and it wouldn¡¯t mix with any of the normal drugs that you¡¯d take to recover or build strength.

    With a precise dropping, one drop of blue fell onto the leading edge of Mark¡¯s food bar.

    He put the blue away and then picked up the bar¡ª

    ¡°All three colored drops at once onto the bar, neither of them touching. Eat those parts fast when you are done dropping,¡± Quark said, ¡°The white can come later.¡±

    Sure?

    Sure!

    Mark put a drop of green and another drop of orange onto the food bar, and then he dug in, making sure not to spill anything, and to fully consume the drops and their ¡®sunset brown¡¯ tasting bar. With the drops, it now tasted like a brown sunset with an herbal thing going on in the background.

    Mark found it surprisingly easy to eat the entire food bar, even though he had just had breakfast.

    ¡°Second breakfasts are good. Great, even!¡± Mark got up and started putting stuff away, asking Quark, ¡°So what about all of this protein powder and real food? Can I eat that? How about the creatine?¡±

    ¡°Protein shakes are acceptable. Eat the drops of color in the first sips of food. Creatine, branched roots, muskleaves, and your pills, are not acceptable. You can safely store those; you will not be wanting to use them, for they will throw off everything else.¡±

    Mark started walking toward the garage again, with all the training equipment, as he asked, ¡°Is this medicine regimen addictive at all?¡±

    ¡°If you do it wrong, yes. You will not be doing it wrong. If you need to be cleansed of this routine, then you will drink the entire bottle of white.¡±

    ¡°Good to know,¡± Mark said, as he entered the garage. He looked at the bars, and decided to do some stretching, first.

    Stretching went great! He moved on to calisthenics. Half an hour later Mark was pushing off of the ground in his seventh pushup in the set, and then getting up off of the ground to go walk around the house again.

    Another half an hour passed quickly.

    Mark was doing lunges when his stomach growled at him¡ª

    He was hungry.

    And that was when Mark realized he was sweating buckets, but feeling better than ever, and he had just done an hour of basic body work without getting winded at all. Mark looked at his pale palms, and then he turned his hands over to see his heartbeat in the thumping of the veins on the back of his hands.

    ¡°¡­ I really just went through an entire hour of hard work¡­ and I feel great?¡±

    Quark spoke up, ¡°You can take more drops and another food bar.¡±

    Mark laughed happily. ¡°This is amazing! Have I gained any weight yet? Height?¡±

    ¡°You have lost 2 pounds of water weight. You need to drink more. Would you like me to inform you to drink more water occasionally?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Yeah sure. Help me as much as you can, please.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    And then Mark went and had third breakfast, along with a few glasses of water.

    Fourth breakfast came around noon, followed rapidly by lunch, second lunch, early dinner, and then dinner. Mark never stopped pumping weights, or doing lunges, or pull ups, situps, some light jogging, push ups, and more. Quark told him to take a drop of white at second dinner, and when third dinner came around, Quark told him to take two drops of white instead of the colored drops and then take a shower and finish for the day.

    Mark ended up zonked out on the couch, only getting to watch ten minutes of a show that he had been watching with Mom and Dad. Halfway through the first act, his eyes were too tired to stay open anymore and he decided to just sleep there. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch.

    He closed his eyes.

    Mark woke up the next day in bed.

    ¡­ In his bed, which was not the living room where he had fallen asleep.

    ¡°¡­ Quaaaaark? How did I get to my bed?¡±

    ¡°Addashield was here. He left after moving you to your bed and left me instructions to tell you to go to bed in your actual bed. He also refilled the fridge and the pantry with real food.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay!¡±

    Mark sat up in bed for a moment.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone again, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Addashield left. He did not inform me when he would be coming back, except that he would be back eventually to take you through the Tutorial, as originally promised, when you¡¯re capable of doing such a thing.¡± Quark added, ¡°Accordingly, Orange City and several other parties to which you are unaware, all urge you to proceed safely and with speed. They thank you for your service and are calling you a hero.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    A hero, eh?

    ¡­ Nah. This was just doing his duty as a human being.

    Mark got out of bed while Quark was talking. Walking was easier today than it had been in a long while. Mark ended up in the kitchen before he realized he was in the kitchen. It never seemed that hard to get to the kitchen before his accident, but it had been hard afterward. Mark had been only just getting back his strength, though his coordination was still lacking.

    Except he had just walked to the kitchen without any problems whatsoever.

    Like it was natural to walk so easily!

    Mark asked, ¡°So they all want me to go faster, eh? Is that sound, medically?¡±

    ¡°You are already on a fast plan, concocted by old magics and hidden herbs, meant for the children of emperors. There have been a few updates to those old formulae since Malaqua was able to change the presets for the Tutorial, to switch the intake from age 12 to 18 and restore the magics of gods to both worlds. Those updates make the potions even better. You have nothing to fear from treatment, and you can go for up to 14 hours a day if you wish.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Okay then!¡± And then he went to the fridge.

    It was stuffed.

    Meats wrapped in paper and twine, with pictures of cows stamped onto the butcher¡¯s paper. So beef. The vegetable drawers were filled with carrots and things that were carrot-shaped but not orange at all; yellows, blues, purples, reds. Mark had heard of the many root vegetables that they grew on Daihoon, but he had never seen any, or eaten any, actually. But these were them. Three large cartons of a dozen eggs each were packed into the center of the fridge. They were not chicken eggs at all; they were half again as large as a chicken egg, and there were snakes on the cartons. Mark hummed. Snake eggs might be delicious?

    Mark set out two snake eggs on the counter and grabbed out what appeared to be thin-sliced beef. He started making breakfast. Steak and eggs! Breakfast of champions.

    Twenty minutes later Mark bit into the snake eggs first and he moaned for the taste. ¡°Oh my gods,¡± Mark said, smiling wide. ¡°These are amazing!¡± He rapidly ate another bite and then sat back in his chair. He stared at the eggs. ¡°¡­ This is what I wanted. To see what the rest of the world is like. Snake eggs! I didn¡¯t know you could eat snake eggs.¡±

    Mark added the one-drop-each of his Blue, Green, and Orange medicines, and then ate it all up. The meat was fantastic, but Mark had obviously cooked it wrong. It was a little stringy. That was fine.

    And hey! If it turned out to be something like human meat, or whatever a demon might want to trick Mark with, then Mark could deal with that later. He didn¡¯t think it was human meat, though.

    Generally¡ª Actually, no. Not ¡®generally¡¯ at all. Almost universally people were good to each other. That¡¯s how Daihoon had survived without gods for 5,000 years, with them always being preyed on by all the monsters and demons and dragons of their world. Earth had massive problems with being good to each other, what with the two world wars before the Reveal (and the third afterward) and maybe they still had problems with that. But Mark had never given a serious thought to the idea that Addashield would have purposefully harmed him, or that Orange City was trying to screw over his long term health for short term gains with this medicine regimen.

    So almost universally, Mark wanted to believe that Addashield, even the one that was under his demon¡¯s partial control, was still basically a good man, and so of course the food wasn¡¯t contaminated or whatever-bad-thing it could have been. But if it turned out that he was eating human meat or something, then Mark would blame the demon, and when Addashield was better, then Mark could¡­ do something good. Mark had no idea what.

    Yell at Addashield?

    Eh.

    Mark discarded his thoughts of mistrust, because the biggest fact was that Mark only had a very small window in which he could act in this direction or that direction, and that window did not include the overall shape of this scenario at all.

    With a full belly, Mark got back to physical therapy, though he did ask Quark, as he entered the garage, ¡°What are my stats today, Quark?¡±

    ¡°At the start of your first day, yesterday, your height was 172 centimeters. Your weight was 57 kilograms. Your max bench press was 20 kilos, deadlift was 30, squat was 25.

    ¡°Your current height is 175 centimeters, up 3 centimeters from yesterday. Current weight is 65 kilograms, up 7 kilograms. Last recorded max bench press is 30 kilos, deadlift is 40, squat is 40, for an increase of 10 kilos, 10 kilos, and 15 kilos.¡±

    For a moment, Mark felt floaty.

    And then a manic sort of giddy joy bubbled up through his mouth and escaped as a giggle that turned into a full-throated laugh. ¡°Holy fuck! Talk about gains!¡±

    Mark thought no more of numbers all day long, actively blinding himself to the weights he kept adding onto bars, or how far down on the stack of weights he stuck the pin. He counted reps and ease of pushing, and lifting, and lunging, always making sure to move with good form, like Kevin had instilled within him for the last two months of physical therapy, and which Mark had always tried for in gym, before the accident.

    Mark gained in every possible physical way.

    The gains came faster on this, the second day of the color ink treatment, or whatever it was called.

    It was important to vary the exercise, though, so Mark ran up and down the street. He figured out how to do handstands again, and then he started walking around on his hands. Suicide drills, balancing exercises, stretching, footwork drills, wrist and forearm exercises, more stretching, running around the block with arm and leg weights. Stretching.

    In the middle of the afternoon he picked up one of his trainer swords from the rack on the wall, and he held it. Just held it.

    He could hold the sword again. He could swing it again.

    He swung that sword around a lot.

    More footwork drills. More weight carrying. More stretching. A lot of wrist and forearm exercises, including rice punching. When he felt somewhat comfortable with the sword he switched to his favored spear, and it was like riding a bike in a way that it had not been like riding a bike at all. It was better.

    Mark danced with the spear how Instructor Gravel taught him, back when he was training for the Tutorial.

    Mark stumbled through the first forms, his balance unfamiliar, his strength not as good as it used to be, but he got through the first forms; the sweep, the stab, the rotate and pierce. Mark made it through one whole set and crashed out onto the ground, exhausted and happy and feeling so very good. He was apparently looking a bit manic, too, because Quark spoke up like he did sometimes.

    ¡°Pardon me, Mark. You need to take a white drop now, and eat again.¡±

    ¡°I can do that!¡±

    Mark ate a lot that second day. More than the first day by far.

    Eating, eating, and eating some more.

    Quark told Mark to take white drops 3 times during the day, in between meals 4 and 5, 8 and 9, and 12 and 13. Mark had no idea how he was eating so much and not needing to use the bathroom except to pee a lot, but that¡¯s how it was working for him, and it was great.

    Mark finished off day two with a big steak and a lot of pasta, a nice shower, and then he took two white drops before laying down in bed. He felt fantastic! He was exhausted.

    Sleep claimed him within a minute of closing his eyes.

 021

    Mark made himself a breakfast of steak and eggs again, but this time made into a burrito.

    As Mark chowed down, Quark spoke up.

    ¡°Pardon me, Mark. You need to use the scanner that was left in the living room after breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± Mark asked, ¡°Say, what are my numbers?¡±

    ¡°At the start of your first day, your height was 172 centimeters. Your weight was 57 kilograms. Your max bench press was 20 kilos, deadlift was 30, squat was 25.

    ¡°At the start of your second day, yesterday, your height was 175 centimeters. Your weight was 65 kilograms. Your max bench press was 30 kilos, deadlift was 40, squat was 40.

    ¡°Your current height is 179 centimeters. Current weight is 71 kilograms. Last recorded max bench press is 50 kilos, deadlift is 65, squat is 65.¡±

    Mark smiled as he ate his burrito. He had looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, and what he saw was amazing. Nothing like what he used to have, because he was also growing taller. But hey! Taller was good! Taller was fantastic! More range with a sword, or a spear, and he was always kinda short, but that had been fine by him. Taller was better, though. As a taller guy, Mark could pack on more muscle and get stronger, too, so this was all sorts of good.

    Sally had probably grown after she took her Tutorial and gotten brawny. Most people had that happen to them, even if they weren¡¯t brawny. Mark had been short and he had accepted it.

    But now he was taking emperor¡¯s-kids Tutorial-prep drugs.

    Mark entered day 3 with gusto.

    He pumped those weights! He swung those weapons, moving from sword to spear to shield and axe! He ran those kilometers with those weighted bracelets, vest, and anklets! He stretched, and shadowboxed, and did footwork drills across sand and gravel and grass!

    He ate, and ate, and ate.

    He got in the scanner twice. It was a basic model, like they had at the physical therapy center; just a full-body jacket and metal head-ring that he could put on himself. Quark read the readout for him.

    ¡°Well below the warning area. All of the medicine is being turned into physical cultivation. You are safe to continue as you are.¡±

    Mark would ask about ¡®physical cultivation¡¯ when compared to all other types of cultivation some other time, when it wouldn¡¯t ruin his mana channels or his ability to enter the Tutorial, and that was all he cared about right now. Fuck taking physical therapy for multiple years! Mark saw the finish line ahead of him, just a week out!

    Amazing!

    And when this was over he was going to study as much magic as possible. Or maybe just enough to get by, depending on how hard magic turned out to be. He¡¯d probably be spending a year learning how to use metalkinesis, anyway. That would be his first goal. To become a metalkinetic! And he¡¯d use the adamantium his body naturally produced, thanks to Addashield! And Addashield would return to being a Hero of Humanity!

    This was going to be amazing¡ª

    ¡°Pardon me, Mark. You need to take a white drop now.¡±

    ¡°Sure sure! Man, this stuff really gets you hyped up to take on the world, doesn¡¯t it!¡±

    ¡°The Color Drops do instill an urge to work, but not this much. This is all you. The white drops mitigate the rough edges that come up when the body goes out of balance from the drops not being fully utilized. You are fully utilizing the drops, but the white drops also balance the whole body, and I am having you take them more as a preventative measure of possible damage than any real need.¡±

    Mark wondered, ¡°But they make me exhausted? You sure they¡¯re not stripping away everything the colored drops are doing?¡±

    ¡°When you are balanced, a side effect is imposed rest. That is what you are feeling. Also, you should stay away from this level of questioning for now. It borders on magical training.¡±

    Mark just shook his head and went about his day.

    He tried not to look at himself in the mirror too much, but it was fine to be a little narcissistic, right? Yeah. This was fine.

    Mark was looking fine.

    - - - -

    Mark asked Quark to display his gains as a readout on the screen in the kitchen as he made himself breakfast again, on the fourth day.

    172 ¡ú 175 ¡ú 179 ¡ú 182 centimeters tall

    57 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 71 ¡ú 78 kilograms

    20 ¡ú 30 ¡ú 50 ¡ú 65 bench

    30 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 deadlift

    25 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 75 squat

    Mark cackled at that, saying, ¡°Almost 6 foot tall!¡± He looked at his night shirt and boxers, happily saying, ¡°I¡¯m outgrowing my clothes again! This is amazing.¡±

    After breakfast, Mark tried to put on his shoes and found them too small.

    ¡°So maybe there are some side effects.¡±

    Holding his shoes and wondering what he was going to do¡­

    Welp. There was one solution already available to him. Mark never liked wearing that solution, but basic income came with basic amenities even before they became first citizens. Basic brown clothes. Maybe being a first citizen opened up better options than brown? That¡¯d be nice.

    Mark looked up, and asked, ¡°Quark? Can I get some new basic clothes?¡±

    Quark said, ¡°I will have suitable sets delivered to you as needed. Unfortunately, being a first citizen does not change the allowed styles. Would you like new training weapons as well?¡±

    Bah!

    Basic brown was called ¡®basic brown¡¯ for a reason, but even first citizen basic was still going to be brown? Eh! No problem there.

    Mark hadn¡¯t considered new training equipment, though, because what he had worked just fine, but¡­ Now that the option was out there, Mark kinda wanted to be greedy. At least a little.

    ¡°Yes. I will take some new training weapons.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    Mark nodded¡­ And then he wondered something else. He almost didn¡¯t want to ask, for to speak a demon''s name was to make them appear. And yet¡­ Mark asked, ¡°Any news about Addashield?¡±

    ¡°We have had no sightings.¡±

    ¡°No news is good news, right?¡±

    Quark remained silent.

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    Mark trained barefoot until the drones came by with the deliveries, and then he readily put on new shoes, along with new clothes of all kinds. These basic clothes were¡­ Well. It was a specific color that was kinda white, kinda brown, and kinda sand-colored. People called it ¡®basic brown¡¯ but it was more sandy than brown, and it was a fine fabric. Mark hadn¡¯t needed to wear the color for a long time, and it kinda irked him to need to wear it again at all...

    It was fine.

    He got back to training.

    - - - -

    172 ¡ú 175 ¡ú 179 ¡ú 182 ¡ú 184 centimeters tall

    57 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 71 ¡ú 78 ¡ú 83 weight in kilograms

    20 ¡ú 30 ¡ú 50 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 bench

    30 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 ¡ú 100 deadlift

    25 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 75 ¡ú 90 squat

    Mark grinned as he stared at those numbers on the screen, the final readouts of yesterday, day four, as he ate another massive steak with even more eggs for breakfast. He kinda worried about why he hadn¡¯t needed to use the bathroom for anything other than peeing, but it was fine.

    It was the start of day 5, and he had broken 6 foot tall, or rather 184 centimeters.

    All of Daihoon used a metric system which was pretty much the same measurement system as the metric on Earth, but they were not exactly the same. A ¡®Dai¡¯metric meter was .7 centimeters larger than Earth-metric. It was close enough for most cooperative understandings, though, and because of that it was hard to tell which metric system people were talking about some of the time.

    Quark was using Earth-metric. Mark had already asked.

    Most people in the business of monster killing used daimetric.

    And then there were the languages of Daihoon that Mark would need to learn.

    Mark found himself thinking about the future over that breakfast, on the fifth day of training. He didn¡¯t think about it all too long, because there was training to do. With the dishes washed and drying on the rack, Mark put on his shoes and got out there, into the garage, and started training with his new swords.

    One of them was a kaiju blade.

    Mark hadn¡¯t played with it yesterday, opting to leave it to the side when he couldn¡¯t even lift the damn thing. But now, Mark grabbed the meter-long handle of the 4.5 meter long wooden blade and tried picking it up¡­

    ¡°Ah, fuck,¡± Mark muttered, as he dropped the sword back to the ground. It thudded and twanged as it struck the floor, the wood of it vibrating for a moment from the drop. He had managed to pick it up off of the ground but he was not nearly strong enough to lift the damned thing. Mark told the sword, ¡°Not today, I guess. Tomorrow, hopefully.¡±

    He had picked up a practice kaiju blade in Tutorial training, a year ago. It was a real blade, weighing 200 pounds. It had been difficult. Tutorial Instructor Gravel had effortlessly lifted it. Then again, Gravel was a brawny. The strongest of normal people could at least lift a kaiju blade, though, and even swing it around some.

    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Mark told himself, as he stared down at the wooden thing.

    He moved the practice kaiju blade back to the side of the garage, where he had stored it after a pair of twin drones had dropped it onto his front yard with a great thump. He hadn¡¯t ordered that sort of weapon, but Quark had, and so it was here for his use.

    Mark wouldn¡¯t ever be able to wield a kaiju blade like a brawny, but that was fine.

    He was going to lift it like a metalkinetic, soon enough.

    Mark started the day with stretches and lost himself to the thrill of numbers going up. He tried not to gauge himself like that, but here he was, pumping out 10 bench presses at 85 kilos, and then putting another 2.5 kilo weight on both sides of the bar. It was thrilling.

    - - - -

    172 ¡ú 175 ¡ú 179 ¡ú 182 ¡ú 184 ¡ú 185 centimeters tall

    57 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 71 ¡ú 78 ¡ú 83 ¡ú 84 weight in kilograms

    20 ¡ú 30 ¡ú 50 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 ¡ú 90 bench in kilos

    30 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 ¡ú 100 ¡ú 115 deadlift

    25 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 75 ¡ú 90 ¡ú 110 squat

    Mark stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.

    He had gotten it all back, and then some. He was taller now, for sure. That was the biggest change. Over 13 centimeters taller. That was a lot. His face was mostly the same shape, but maybe his chin had gotten stronger, and maybe his eyesight had gotten better, too. Hard to say. He shaved as he did sometimes, with a clipper. And yeah, that was a stronger chin.

    And then he looked at himself for a little bit.

    From his big shoulders to his arms to his chest and abs ¡ªthose were really good abs¡ª to further down, Mark had absolutely no complaints about anything at all. The ¡®emperor¡¯s kid¡¯ medicine did a lot of good work. Really. No complaints at all. What was this stuff, anyway? Whatever it was, it was probably hard to make and restricted as all hell.

    He even had a good butt! He had a good butt before the coma, too, but he had always been a middling rugby player because he didn¡¯t have the ass for it. But now he had height and weight and he could probably tackle any baseline just as good as the others. Maybe even better!

    Mark smiled a little more, doing poses in the mirror because he liked what he was seeing, and then he put his clothes back on and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

    He pulled open the fridge¡ª

    ¡°Oh. Addashield came back?¡± Mark asked, as he looked at the refilled fridge.

    And then he started taking more snake eggs and prime cuts of beef out.

    ¡°Addashield returned,¡± Quark said, his voice coming out of the kitchen screen. ¡°He was here while you were asleep. You will have 2 more days of training as hard as you wish, and then you will have 1 day of rest, and then you will go into Tutorial.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Mark said, smiling. ¡°Already?¡±

    Quark continued, ¡°You will succeed and then follow Addashield to be introduced to the demons of his demon¡¯s family. You will do what you need to do to cement Addashield¡¯s return to his Old Contract, and then you will be returned here, to your current life. You will likely face questioning as to the full nature of the events of your Tutorial.¡±

    ¡°So normal plan, then. That¡¯s good?¡±

    Quark replied, ¡°Orange City wishes to impart, again, that they are thankful for you taking this risk, Mark Careed.¡±

    Mark smiled at that. ¡°People help people. That¡¯s how it¡¯s supposed to be.¡±

    ¡°Even so,¡± Quark said. ¡°That is not how it often is.¡±

    ¡°Of course people fight all the time but we also help each other all the time, too,¡± Mark said, ¡°I wasn¡¯t raised in a perfect Xerkonan household by any means, but grandpa always loved that tradition and we sort of kept to those ideals.¡±

    Quark said nothing. He was just a non-sapient House AI, after all. A true AI would have gone for a conversation¡­ probably? Mark wasn¡¯t sure, actually.

    Mark made another great breakfast, added a drop each of Blue, Green, and Orange to the eggs, and then ate it all. Soon, he was out in the garage again.

    This time, he could lift the 50 kilo training kaiju blade by its huge handle. He laughed as he held the wooden practice sword aloft, and then he swung it around for a while, trying to match the forms Instructor Gravel had once shown him. Wielding a 4.5 meter sword was a lot different than wielding a normal sword, and the style was completely different, but Mark could go through the normal motions well enough. With two hands on the meter-long handle, Mark did overhead slashes, down slashes, side slashes and running pierces.

    Then he switched his grip and did the whole thing over again from the other direction.

    His shoulders burned. His core and thighs burned, too. He tired quickly. The weight of the massive wooden sword was balanced around the handle, with lead weights distributed inside the wood to give it the balance of a real blade, so it was balanced. It was just too big to use for anything other than kaiju. As a result it was, quite simply, heavy as fuck, and Mark¡¯s footwork was all over the place. He didn¡¯t have the brawny strength to use it right, nor the kinetic power to use it in a different, no less proper way. Footwork and leverage was the real problem, but attack angles were another issue. Mark was, despite his increased height, still just standing on the ground.

    Kaiju were all building-sized. From house-sized to skyscraper, Mark, as he was, could never hope to do anything against any kaiju. Running was the only recourse for most people. Even most heroes dealt with evacuating others from the path of oncoming kaiju. It was the rare person that could kill a real beast-of-the-world, which is what some people on Daihoon called them. The term ¡®kaiju¡¯ sort of took off long before Mark¡¯s time, due to a confluence of events with the Godzilla movie in the 50s in Japan and the breaking of the Veil in 1969, and everyone on Earth rapidly learning the singular name that the Japanese used to indicate large monsters. The nations of Daihoon were way too fractious at the time to have any one name for the monsters, but ¡®kaiju¡¯ was catching on over there too, as Mark understood it.

    Mark rested the wooden blade on the ground, still holding onto the handle with both grips, as he breathed. He was the only one standing outside right now, on the entire street. Probably the only person for 5 kilometers around, actually, if those original evacuation numbers held. They had probably expanded the evacuation zone now that Addashield had appeared twice. Gladegrove, Mark¡¯s home, was pretty sparsely populated. The whole place probably had, like, a thousand people? Hard to know. Maybe a little bit more than that.

    Over lunch, Mark asked Quark, ¡°How many people were evacuated in the area?¡±

    ¡°1208 people. The evacuation order was given to 6 kilometers out, but they expanded it to 10 after Addashield¡¯s first appearance. Luckily he did not attack anyone on his ways to and from this house.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    And then he finished first lunch and went right back out there to run drills with the kaiju blade. After third lunch it was early afternoon, and Mark knew that his fascination with the kaiju blade was not over, but it wasn¡¯t the best possible thing to be training with. Later, he¡¯d get one of these things for real.

    He stretched, did core workouts with medicine balls and free weights, and then he went for a run, followed by more suicide drills, followed by more of everything else.

 022

    Mark¡¯s numbers had grown the next morning. He also tried a simplified readout.

    172 ¡ú 186 centimeters tall

    57 ¡ú 88 weight in kilograms

    20 ¡ú 95 bench

    30 ¡ú 130 deadlift

    25 ¡ú 125 squat

    He didn¡¯t like the simplified notation.

    Mark asked, ¡°How about a gain readout for an increase over the previous morning¡¯s numbers? Add in the previous readout, too.¡±

    Quark provided.

    186 centimeters tall, +1 centimeter from previous morning¡¯s measurement

    88 weight in kilograms, +4 kilos

    95 bench, +5 kilos

    130 deadlift, +15 kilos

    125 squat, +15 kilos

    Good enough.

    Mark asked, ¡°Those are good numbers, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Though you would never qualify, you are almost at Olympic-level power.¡±

    Mark snorted. ¡°Best of the bases.¡± He ate his breakfast and then scarfed down a protein shake. As his stomach and insides started to rev up, and energy flowed, Mark asked, ¡°This is the last day, right? Is Addashield going to be here in the morning tomorrow, or something?¡±

    ¡°I would not presume to know what goes on in the mind of Archmage Addashield, and you should not presume either.¡± Quark asked, ¡°Please inform me if I am mistaken, but you appear to have some knowledge of Xerkona culture and style?¡±

    ¡°A bit, yeah. Grandpa was in the military. He loved the Settlement of Xerkona. It fit with his military life quite well, too.¡±

    ¡°Then understand this:¡± Quark¡¯s voice was strong as he said, ¡°You must become a perfect adherent of Xerkona, for in the alignment of similar goals and utter politeness, you might find salvation in your work with Addashield.¡±

    For a moment, Mark felt thrust ten years into the past, to hearing his grandfather talk like that now and then. And then some old lessons from his grandfather came to him. To stand straight, breathe softly, and speak clearly without subterfuge.

    Modern culture on Earth decried Xerkona sensibilities as too deferential. Too demeaning and hierarchical. But Xerkona¡¯s teachings allowed the armies of Earth and Daihoon to work together well in the Reveal, and then later, when the melting pot of cultures had bled together and what came out the other side was an amalgamation of militaries and power structures. Grandpa had been military through and through.

    Mark wasn¡¯t a military brat, but he knew how to act Xerkonan well enough to not get slapped around by those in charge of this world or any other. Mostly.

    With a clear voice, Mark meant it when he said, ¡°We do what we can because we must.¡±

    ¡°That we do, Mark Careed,¡± Quark said.

    Mark put in the hardest day of work that he had ever done before.

    He ate until he couldn¡¯t eat anymore. He took the white drops every 3 meals, along with giant glasses of water every time. It was almost as grueling to eat as much as Mark ate, as it was to actually put in the physical work, to do the suicide drills and the burpees and the kilometer sprints. The Color Drop treatment made it possible, but Mark was the one that did the work.

    At the end of the day, Mark sat in his shower, relaxing under the warm water with a full belly, but knowing he was going to have to go back into that kitchen and eat even more.

    Mark did exactly that.

    He took 3 white drops before he went to his room to sleep. He almost didn¡¯t make it to the bed, his eyelids feeling heavy and his arms feeling like they were weighed down, but he got there in the end, flopping down onto the bed like a ton of bricks.

    The bed broke, three of four legs somehow snapping, one right after the other, the bed slapping down onto the floor.

    Mark grumbled, face in his pillow. And then he got up and finished breaking the bed enough to make it lay flat as it could.

    Mark slept.

    - - - -

    Mark woke to the smell of meat grilling, spices in the air and something sweet underlying all of it. Cinnamon rolls? For one sleepy moment, Mark thought Dad was cooking. But Dad never made anything sweet. Maybe Mom was making something?

    And then Mark woke up just a bit more, and he knew who was cooking in his kitchen.

    Mark got up, since it was that time, and then he made his way to the bathroom and fixed himself up. Hair brushed, teeth brushed, the usual morning ritual. Still nothing out the back end, which was still weird, but the front end took a while to unload. And then Mark went to his room and got dressed in some clothes that would be comfortable for Tutorial. The simple brown clothes, Mark thought. Pretty standard attire. Was today a day of rest for the Tutorial? Or another day of work? Mark wondered what Addashield would say, or do.

    What would the demon do?

    Steeling himself as much as he could, Mark walked down the hall.

    He arrived at the kitchen.

    Addashield was there, as expected. He wore simple brown clothes of a sandy color, just like Mark; basic goods. Addashield was making breakfast, which was sort of expected too, but Mark absolutely didn¡¯t actually expect to truly see an archmage making breakfast. Addashield flipped sausage in the pan, like it was normal. For a moment, it was normal.

    Archmage Sloane Addashield turned and grinned. ¡°Hey Mark! You got bigger! Congrats on that. Sit down and I¡¯ll pour you some orange juice.¡±

    He looked much the same as the last time Mark had seen him, but shorter. And yet, he wasn¡¯t shorter. Mark had simply grown taller, so that explained that. Mark seemed to have grown a little wider, too, for as he sat down the chair seemed smaller than usual.

    It was easy enough to pretend that everything was okay, so Mark smiled a little and sat down, ¡°Thank you. It smells great, Sir Addashield.¡±

    ¡°I try to cook every now and then,¡± Addashield said, as the fridge door opened on its own and the orange juice floated out. A glass floated out of the cupboard and the juice went into the glass, before the glass set down in front of Mark. It was a casual display of power that Mark knew was anything but, for Addashield was doing telekinesis, as a metalkinetic, and Mark didn¡¯t see any metal on anything he had just been served. ¡°I¡¯m glad you liked the eggs! They¡¯re some of my favorite, too.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Are they snake eggs? Or something else? I¡¯ve never seen snake eggs in any store before.¡±

    ¡°Basilisk eggs, actually. Hard to come by unless you know people, but they¡¯re some of the best sort of foodstuffs that a baseline can eat in order to rebuild strength. That¡¯s because as eggs the basilisks are baseline, too, but they have the capability to become highly magical creatures all on their own.¡±

    Mark sipped his juice as Addashield spoke, but he almost coughed a little bit and he had to thump his chest when the archmage just dropped magical knowledge on him like that.

    Addashield noticed. He grinned. As the oven opened on its own and the cinnamon rolls floated outward, Addashield said, ¡°You¡¯re going to be in high society one way or another soon enough, Mark. You¡¯re going to have to catch up on every bit of magical knowledge you can possibly find, because people are going to take advantage of you. When this is over, don¡¯t sign up for anything with more than a week¡¯s commitment.¡±

    ¡°What about being your actual apprentice?¡±

    Something touched Mark¡¯s left shoulder.

    Mark looked left.

    His shirt sleeve was lifted, and a knife stuck out of his shoulder. It was one of the normal steak knives that Mark had been using for the last most-of-a-week, and it was about an inch into his shoulder, positioned with the blade into the thickest part of his meat. It pulled out, telekinetically, and not much blood came out afterward. Not much pain, either.

    Addashield said, ¡°You should bind that. Here.¡± Wound-closure bandages and some gauze flowed onto the kitchen table in front of Mark.

    Mark felt his heart racing hard, but he retreated into decorum.

    Quark¡¯s talk about Xerkona culture suddenly seemed more important today than it had been yesterday.

    With hands that barely shook at all, Mark opened some bandages and dipped the gauze into antiseptic, before sticking the gauze down on his arm and then further securing it with the wound bandages. It would hold rather well, even if it was a bit wet from the antiseptic. Mark barely felt the sting.

    Addashield began putting breakfast onto plates, using a spatula to transfer sausage to plates, along with eggs and cinnamon rolls which floated to where they needed to be. As he did that, Mark¡¯s white drop bottle landed in front of him with a gentle plonk. ¡°You don¡¯t want to be my apprentice. Don¡¯t ask for things you don¡¯t know about. Stick to your life. Now take a drop of the white. You¡¯ll be taking one drop around every hour until I say otherwise. After you eat, you can sit in the living room and turn on some cartoons or something. Whatever kids are into these days. You¡¯ll probably nap. After lunch, you can do those stretches you¡¯ve been doing and then we can go into the Tutorial.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Mark said, as he took the eyedropper and plinked a single drop onto a spoon. He licked the spoon, and then he sipped his orange juice.

    Addashield nodded, and then set Mark¡¯s plate in front of him. In a conversational tone, Addashield said, ¡°I¡¯m kinda mad that it took this level of disruption to finally be able to take a student who was allowed to take the drops. Do you know what those are?¡±

    ¡°No, sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a guess?¡±

    In a flash of realization, Mark caught on to the rules of this interaction. They were pretty simple, and Mark almost cursed himself for not understanding them the first time. He had been absolutely terrified to see that knife in his shoulder, but¡­

    The rules were simple, and in line with normal Xerkona Doctrine. Addashield, as the power in the space, could say whatever he wanted. He could do whatever he wanted, really, though common cause made him look out for everyone in the area, to ensure that everything was going as well for everyone in the area as he could possibly ensure. Mark could only speak when spoken to, and to answer questions. Everything else was an infraction. Mark would have thought that asking to be Addashield¡¯s apprentice would have been the proper thing to do, because¡­ Well. It was the right thing, right? But obviously that was very wrong. Mark also couldn¡¯t ask his own questions at all, unless they were clarifying questions.

    And so, the knife in his arm.

    Usually infractions were repaid with verbal lessons as to what was done wrong, or, in extreme cases, ostracization. ¡®Exile¡¯ was the most extreme form of ostracization, and that only really happened in Daihoon, though even that culture was fading, as far as Mark knew. Ostracization was usually just a snub and a decline to further speak with a person.

    Apparently, Mark would be getting injury-based lessons in civility.

    With that in mind, Mark considered Addashield¡¯s question about the nature of the drops, and answered, ¡°I believe they must be derived from some sort of herbal thing, as all alchemy is derived.¡±

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    Addashield said, ¡°You can eat.¡±

    Mark began to eat.

    Addashield began, ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, but in some ways it is. Color Drop, also called Emperor¡¯s Child, is a physical cultivation technique done through astral body doping. All of that went right over your head, which is normal for a baseline behind Curtain Protocol, and something I¡¯m glad to see remains true for you. Normally, no one talks about any of this stuff to baselines because to know the words is to begin the process by which a person imbues themselves with directed power. I just said some Key Words, you see, and that unlocked some basic potential. Key Words are words that the demons of Arakino and Stone God Malaqua have imbued with power. Knowing the words is not enough, but it does unlock the potential in a person. Thus the term ¡®Key Words¡¯.

    ¡°Color Drop is an alchemical treatment whereby you take certain Key Words and you put them into liquid form. Plant and animal-based alchemy is a toy compared to the higher orders of alchemy out there, and Key Word alchemy is one of those higher orders. You have been ingesting words these past 6 days.

    ¡°As you are a baseline, the words had their full effect upon you, but they did not produce who you are today. That was your effort, and it was a good effort to see. If you would have been born in a noble house, you would have been a prodigy if through nothing more than effort alone. Do you think you can keep up that sort of effort past the Tutorial?¡±

    Mark swallowed what he was eating, and then spoke with deference, ¡°I doubt I could keep this effort going for much longer, sir, but if I saw gains like I did this last week I feel I could go rather far.¡±

    Addashield nodded, and then he started in on his own breakfast.

    Mark resumed eating, too, trying to make sense of ¡®Key Word Alchemy¡¯ and trying to understand what sorts of ¡®words¡¯ he had been taking with every meal. He wanted to ask questions about all that, about ¡®astral bodies¡¯ (which Mark was absolutely sure was a Big Key Word, because he had never heard it before then) and physical cultivation and the demons being the ones to do¡­ what? Decide how magic worked? But those sorts of questions would be a bad idea. Mark didn¡¯t need another knife in his shoulder to tell him that.

    When Mark finished his breakfast, Addashield told him, ¡°Take off your bandage and get some more food. Another white drop, too.¡±

    Mark did exactly as instructed. He was surprised to find that his wound was already gone, leaving behind little more than a faint red line on his skin. Addashield said nothing about that, and Mark didn¡¯t either. Instead, Mark got seconds, along with another white drop.

    Addashield floated more food onto his own plate, too, as he asked, ¡°What sorts of words do you think the various colors contain? Explain your reasonings, from top to bottom.¡±

    Mark had been thinking a lot about that; about everything, from his scanning readout that he had done yesterday with its six different bars, all of him still below the red line which was the Tutorial cutoff, to what sort of words could be used in Key Word alchemy that could do... anything that it was doing, really. He considered the nature of language itself, as well.

    And then he set aside his usual choice to never think about that stuff too deeply, lest it affect him, because Addashield was directly asking him to think about all of it¡­

    Oh.

    It was, perhaps, Mark¡¯s instinct to blind himself to what he saw, read, and felt, that helped him to figure out where to start.

    With a measured tone, Mark said, ¡°Words inherently classify the world into things that are understood in certain ways. But words that mean one thing to one person could mean different things to different people, unless there¡¯s some sort of underlying meaning to everything, and I guess there must be an underlying, imposed truth, if demons and gods can simply decide how things work¡­ Which seems completely ridiculous to me, but I guess Curtain Protocol only works because the Curtain is locked behind actual Keys...¡± Mark got back on track, though he was pretty sure he was already on the right track to begin with, if Addashield¡¯s careful eyebrow raise was any indication. ¡°So I imagine that each color corresponds to some sort of way that power works under the repaired System that, I think, you created alongside Malaqua¡­ But I don¡¯t really know any of that story. Not really.

    ¡°I do know that I was ¡®flavored¡¯ with metalkinesis and healing magic, which I think corresponds to two of the bars on the 6-bar graph that I get with every scanning.

    ¡°Every scan I¡¯ve gotten before this past week has been more or less the same, with the first bar being nothing, the second bar being 3 pips out of however-many the whole graph covers¡ª I have no idea how large the graph goes, but I assume it goes up to, 50? or something? Anyway. The red line is at 10 pips. I have had a 1 in the first bar, 5 in the second, 1, then 5 again in the fourth bar, and then 1 and 1. The exact numbers change daily, and I think the graph readouts are changed, too, to obfuscate understanding under Curtain Protocol, but the overall shapes of the bar graph are the same.

    ¡°Nothing in bars 1, 3, 5, and 6, and something in bars 2 and 4.

    ¡°But the biggest change came this last week.

    ¡°The scanner started to record the first bar in the graph as something other than near-0 when I started the Color Drop program. At first, the readouts were just 1,4,0,4,0,0, or something close to that.

    ¡°But Yesterday, my readout was 3, 5, 0, 6, 0, 0.

    ¡°And so, I think the colored liquids are doing a few things.

    ¡°Firstly, they correspond to a 6-color diagram, starting with Blue, then going to Green, Yellow, Orange, Red, and then Purple. The drops I have are Blue, Green, and Orange. And then White. The Color Drops actually do something, but the White takes it away¡ª Balances. That¡¯s what Quark said, though he wouldn¡¯t tell me anything else and I did not ask. The white drops balance.

    ¡°The Blue drops correspond to the first bar, which is why I have a 3 in that bar instead of a 0. That¡¯s new.

    ¡°Green is the second bar, which I think is either kineticism or healing, or some broader category.

    ¡°Orange is the fourth bar, which is, again, either kineticism or healing, or some broader category.

    ¡°That¡¯s the only information I have, aside from the fact that I healed and got even better.

    ¡°Which is another bit of information, I guess. So the first category likely has to do with the body healing.

    ¡°Since brawnies heal easily and largely, and they often get bigger, I assume that the Blue is for brawny flavoring. Maybe brawny flavoring is the best way to heal a person, because it works on the base foundation that Malaqua forged out of the System of Arakino? That seems correct, and seems to explain some of my, uh. Increase in everything physical.

    ¡°So words like ¡®power¡¯ ¡®strength¡¯ ¡®fortitude¡¯ ¡®limberness¡¯ ¡®stretching¡¯¡­ More like that? Go into Blue? Not sure.

    ¡°And that leaves Green and Orange, for kineticism and healing. I can only guess at what sorts of words go into which, and they are likely wholly incorrect.¡± Mark paused for a moment in thought, and to see if Addashield wanted to stop him, but since Addashield just ate his breakfast as Mark talked. Addashield was waiting for more, so Mark continued, ¡°And the white drops do¡­ balancing? Maybe that¡¯s just it. ¡®Balance¡¯. Maybe the words ¡®balance out¡¯, to purge small problems?¡±

    And that was all Mark had.

    Addashield said, ¡°You¡¯re not nearly as nervous this time as you were when we first met in that office, where you bumbled through your words to arrive at your points. What changed, besides everything?¡±

    ¡°I have a goal now, and this is not a nebulous social visit. I¡¯ve also remembered some of my grandfather¡¯s Xerkona training that he held onto from his army days.¡±

    Addashield grinned between a bite of eggs and the next.

    Mark resumed eating.

    When they had both had seconds, Addashield began floating the dishes around, washing them in the sink and then drying them right afterward, while he also said, ¡°You remember when I spoke to you about people entering arcanaeum, and what to expect from them? I said, ¡®some people you¡¯d expect to do remarkably well in arcanaeum fail out completely, and some that you think will fail in their first month turn into archmages.¡¯

    ¡°With the brain you¡¯ve got and your sort of work ethic, I¡¯m rather sure that you could be one of the greats. Hard to know for sure, but I¡¯d give you better odds than most.¡±

    Mark simply said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    This did not earn him a knifing, though technically it should have¡­ Maybe. Mark was unclear on the exact rules. It had been a long time since he had taken etiquette lessons from grandpa, and Tutorial training certainly didn¡¯t cover that sort of thing.

    Addashield nodded, then said, ¡°You¡¯re going to gather a lot of esoteric information in your life, such as the Key Word thing, and the fact that Word Alchemy exists at all. Yes, people have a small-word understandings of Key Words and how certain words can ruin a baseline¡¯s base line. But they don¡¯t know the real truth. You have learned at least 2 truths today, one of them larger than most.

    ¡°Outside of teacher-student interactions, or high level person interactions, this information should not be shared.

    ¡°It is valuable information. Stick to monetary interactions in your future endeavors if you can help it. If you find a good alchemist¡ª and I mean a really good, young alchemist, or someone venturing down that path, then you could tell them about Key Words and Word Alchemy. Do not tell this to baselines at all, no matter how promising they might be.

    ¡°I¡¯ve given this information to well over 50 people, and only 4 people in my life deserved this knowledge. All 4 of them were from Daihoon. All the others, from both worlds, squandered this information, or they caused a disaster that I needed to clean up. You¡¯ll be lucky if you could do anything with this knowledge yourself, but if I were you I¡¯d focus on starter magics before anything else. Eventually, you can use these truths as a bargaining chip to get someone good on your side.

    ¡°If someone tries to take your knowledge, through coercion or duplicitous means, then you are within your rights to ostracize them, or worse.¡±

    Mark bowed in his chair, ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    Addashield nodded. ¡°What sort of career are you looking at after Tutorial?¡±

    Mark instantly added, ¡°I want to be the center of a team. With healing and metalkinesis, I feel that is within my reach.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Addashield said, ¡°If you would have said anything else, I would have discounted you.¡± And then Addashield said something that surprised Mark a great deal. Addashield instructed him,

    ¡°Ask me a question.¡±

    Mark almost asked him what he thought he should do after the Tutorial, but under normal rules of Xerkona, and if there was a large gap in station, requesting for direction and then receiving that direction thus honor-bound the receiver to do whatever the giver told them to do. If you asked for the guidance of a king, you needed to follow that guidance without hesitation. The larger the gap, the larger the honor binding.

    Mark didn¡¯t want to put himself in that position, and he certainly didn¡¯t want Addashield to give him those sorts of instructions, what with the demon clearly in partial control.

    So instead Mark asked something similar to his original idea, ¡°What should I know going beyond the Tutorial?¡±

    Addashield sat back in his chair for a moment, then looked back to Mark, and began, ¡°Depending on what happens after your Awakening, your options will be vastly different. If you awaken a true tri-Talent it might be worse for your personal freedoms than if you awaken the bi-Talent that we planned on.

    ¡°Three Color Drop is not a normal Color Drop regimen. Two Color Drop is routine, and used to give a kid a second Talent. Four Color Drop does not exist, though some people have always been greedy or stupid enough to try.

    ¡°Three Color Drop is the one that they give people who they think will be capable of doing great things. People who are capable of doing great things are often used by those above them before those people have a chance to develop their own ideas about life. The powers-that-be of Orange City and probably a few other places gave you a Tri-Color Drop in order to manifest a third Talent. A brawn-type astral body manifestation. Brawny is the most normal variation and you weren¡¯t already pointed that way, so adding in the Blue Drops, as you correctly identified, might awaken some sort of physical power within you.

    ¡°Politically, you do not want this.

    ¡°Personally, more power is always good.

    ¡°Hopefully you like whatever you get.

    ¡°But because you are being played, politically, as a measure to reach me, perhaps... As I said earlier: don¡¯t agree to any contracts beyond a week¡¯s time schedule. Joining one of the larger, laxer guilds does not count. What I mean is this: Don¡¯t agree to schooling, or to being stationed here or there, or to joining a noble¡¯s house, or things like that. Especially don¡¯t agree to something that would put yourself in a position of vulnerability around any sort of Guild or Great House.

    ¡°If you awaken a bi-Talent then it should be a lot easier for you to live your own life.

    ¡°Either way, go out and fight monsters, if you can. It should be easy for you to do that.

    ¡°Even as a bi-Talent, though, you¡¯ll still be recruited heavily¡­¡± Addashield looked like he might have said more, but he stopped there and went in a different direction, ¡°The exception to joining organizations will probably be the Church of Freyala. You will have to give them some of your time because they instilled a healing predisposition into you, and they do not normally do this for anyone who is outside of their established family or knightly lines. That said: all of the churches are relatively good people, except for Thrashtalon.

    ¡°Kill Thrashtalon¡¯s people on sight.¡±

    The betrayer god? Yeah. That made sense. Kill on sight.

    Mark nodded.

    Addashield continued, ¡°Freyala¡¯s church will help you understand your healing talent, whatever it might be, though it will probably be the same as Freyala¡¯s healing magics. You¡¯ll find out about those later.¡±

    Mark almost said thank you¡ª

    Addashield added, ¡°Ah. One more thing. This deference you''re giving me in the Xerkona-style is good and proper, but you have no real skill with this sort of thing. Don¡¯t try to be what you¡¯re not, unless you learn how to be what you¡¯re not. You should endeavor to understand this manner of speaking and doing in a deeper way, though. Do not neglect manners when moving through life; culture is all that separates us from the monsters.

    ¡°You will probably fit in better with the superhero culture they have going on over here on Earth, but you should still try and learn proper Xerkonan etiquette before you venture over to Daihoon, and you absolutely should go over to Daihoon sooner, rather than later. Noble Obligation culture is also fine to adopt, and it fits in well enough with Xerkona. Perhaps go to Europe or China and learn from those places. Xerkona is stricter, though.

    ¡°In Xerkona, and if you awaken a bi-Talent, with one of them as healing, and if you¡¯re competent at all with both of them, that will put you on the same honor level as a town mayor or a town guildmaster. At that level, you should know how to protect a city of 1000 people, and be expected to carry yourself in such a manner that deserves such honor. There¡¯s more to it than that, with tiers coming into the picture after you Ascend, but that¡¯s a good enough approximation of the honor level a true bi-Talent should experience.

    ¡°If you awaken a tri-Talent, you¡¯ll be considered the equal to any city lord, and be expected to carry yourself in such a manner. You will be expected to be able to defend a city against monsters of your tier, and¡­ Well. That arrangement gets complicated.

    ¡°That¡¯s only if you actually wear good clothes and stand out in the open, of course. If you present yourself as a power, then you will be expected to provide for everyone around you. So don¡¯t stand out unless you want the responsibility for thousands of lives. Just be a rough-and-tumble slayer, or something like that, and you can somewhat ignore common culture.¡±

    Well that was a whole lot of stuff that Mark only barely knew about. He knew of noblesse oblige and how it was sort of like superhero culture, but not really, and how Xerkona was like both of those and also military-flavored, but not really at all. It was a lot to think about.

    Mark waited a moment to see if Addashield was going to say something else, and when the archmage did not, Mark bowed in his seat again, saying, ¡°Thank you for your instruction, sir. It has been most informative.¡±

    Addashield nodded, then said, ¡°Take another white drop and go watch some television or read a book, or something. Rest. In an hour, take another white drop. Eat if you want. Repeat until you want to fall asleep, and then do that. Should happen before noon. When you wake up from that nap you¡¯ll eat a small meal, and we¡¯ll be doing your Tutorial.¡±

    Mark took a white drop, bowed, and then left to the living room.

 023

    Mark managed to find something to watch in the living room, and then watched it. Even though he sat there, eyes open and on the screen, Mark had no idea what he was seeing. His mind was 100% elsewhere. He did remember to go take another drop in an hour, though.

    Addashield was not there in the kitchen, or anywhere in the house, actually¡­ or maybe he was? Mark didn¡¯t exactly go exploring. He didn¡¯t want to know what he didn¡¯t want to know. Not yet, anyway. Not before the danger was over and Addashield was done kowtowing to his demon.

    When Mark got back to the couch, to watch more television, he distracted himself by asking, ¡°Quark? Can I get a final readout of the full 7 days of Color Drop physical cultivation?¡±

    The television flickered away from the show, displaying numbers.

    172 ¡ú 175 ¡ú 179 ¡ú 182 ¡ú 184 ¡ú 185 ¡ú 186 ¡ú 189 centimeters tall

    57 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 71 ¡ú 78 ¡ú 83 ¡ú 84 ¡ú 88 ¡ú 95 weight in kilograms

    20 ¡ú 30 ¡ú 50 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 ¡ú 90 ¡ú 95 ¡ú 105 bench in kilos

    30 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 80 ¡ú 100 ¡ú 115 ¡ú 130 ¡ú 155 deadlift

    25 ¡ú 40 ¡ú 65 ¡ú 75 ¡ú 90 ¡ú 110 ¡ú 125 ¡ú 145 squat

    Quark provided the numbers in imperial without asking.

    Final numbers:

    Height: 6¡¯2.5¡±

    Weight: 210 lbs

    Bench: 231 lbs

    Deadlift: 341 lbs

    Squat: 317 lbs

    Mark smiled at those numbers.

    This might be the only time that he would ever experience such a large increase in physical capability, and he loved it. Seven days to full recovery, and then some! And then some by a lot. He was over 6 feet tall now. How crazy was that! Insane, really.

    There were a few flies in the ointment, of course. He was pretty sure he had been stronger before, even though he had been shorter. He was only 17 and 8 months before he entered the coma, and those four months to 18 should have been filled with strength and endurance training, so he should have been able to blow past these numbers on this screen. 315 squat? Should have been 350 by age 18, since Mark had been training to be strong. 230 bench? Should have been 275. Deadlift should have been 350, at least. Pure strength wasn¡¯t the best way to determine success as a warrior, though, so Mark¡¯s current numbers were great, and he was taller, so that would help a lot in the Tutorial.

    He felt he weighed more than he appeared to weigh. Maybe he was only really 180? Did he have 20 pounds of adamantium in his body? Probably not, really. It¡¯d been around 7 months since Addashield imbued his body with the stuff, so he should have something like a thumbnail-sized piece collecting all across the bones of his body. A thumbnail-sized hunk of adamantium was about twice as heavy as the same hunk of gold, so maybe he had half a pound of adamantium in him? Less? More?

    Did the adamantium collect in cell deposits? Or was it inside all of the marrow, like a diffuse cloud?

    No way to really know besides asking Addashield, and Mark did not want to step into that danger zone until he needed to, and he did not need to do that right now.

    Mark watched television until another hour passed, and by that time he was already kinda sleepy. He took another white drop, had a snack, and then decided to head to bed. Wrapped in covers and feeling too comfortable, Mark drifted to sleep in the middle of the morning.

    The sun was shining outside, in a cloudless, blue sky.

    - - - -

    Mark woke to the sound of rain on the roof.

    As he stretched, Mark yawned and blinked out his sleep. The sky outside of his window was dark with clouds and the rain came down in rushing waves. A shuddering wind blew through the oak tree outside, tossing leaves and creaking the wood.

    A big storm, then.

    Mark got up and scratched himself as he walked down the hall, yawning again. After a trip to the bathroom, Mark went to the kitchen.

    Addashield was still absent.

    ¡°Quark? Is Addashield here?¡±

    Quark did not respond. He was probably under interaction restrictions with Addashield being nearby. Mark didn¡¯t bother to investigate the archmage¡¯s whereabouts more than that.

    Mark decided to make himself a sandwich. A light snack before the Tutorial.

    He tried not to get too nervous.

    He made a second sandwich for Addashield, who was still not there, and then he ate his own. No white drops this time. Just food. And drink. When Mark was done with his own meal he put Addashield¡¯s sandwich back into the fridge, and then he got ready for the Tutorial.

    His previous shoes were a little small, and he should probably go up another size, but that would be using new shoes in the Tutorial, and that was just bad. Better to use these two-day-old pairs that mostly fit. His clothes got the same evaluation. Once he was dressed in comfortable jeans that allowed for full range of motion, socks and shoes, and a t-shirt and long-sleeved shirt, he was almost ready. A belt finished off the prep.

    And then Mark did a round of stretching.

    The storm outside was gathering strength. The sky was dark. The rain was coming down hard, now.

    On a whim, Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s the weather forecast like, Quark?¡±

    No answer.

    Mark frowned at that. Had Addashield killed the AI? Maybe.

    Mark went to the living room. The silver box that held the House AI box was still stuck to the wall, its silver tendrils burrowed into the wall like roots. Tiny lights glowed in the cracks of those roots and along the edges of the box itself. Lights glimmered under the silver surface, too. Mark couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of all of that, exactly, but the lights were on, so it seemed to be working.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Quark? You there?¡±

    Silence.

    Mark ignored Quark¡¯s silence.

    He was getting nervous now.

    For a warmup, Mark went down to the garage. With the garage door still shut, he swung around a sword with one hand while he pretended to bash goblins with the shield in his other hand. He didn¡¯t want to do too much, so he stopped there. He discarded the shield and sword and he opened the garage door.

    The world was a rainstorm. It came down at a harsh angle, whipping around the sides of the house and then flowing directly away, but also down, and to the sides. The wind was coming in from the other side of the house, and almost no rain came into the garage. It was still kinda terrifying to see that much rain.

    Mark was just nervous.

    Mark sat on the bench press for a little while, just looking out of the garage door, at the rain. The power was still on, so the grid was working. Mark wasn¡¯t too scared.

    And then the storm came in stronger, which Mark didn¡¯t think was possible, but here it was, a river pouring from the sky.

    Wind howled.

    Lightning crackled overhead, passing this way and that, vibrantly shaking the world into light.

    Thunder rolled, and Mark¡¯s breath hitched as something much closer cracked and broke; the sound of a tree falling, twisted apart by the storm.

    The streetlights died and the lights in the other houses flickered and died, plunging the world into full darkness in the middle of the day. The lights in the garage and the rest of Mark¡¯s house stayed on, but only because Quark was still alive and an independent power source. The house would always have electricity, now¡ª

    A roar in the dark echoed across the storm¡ª

    No.

    Not a roar.

    That was just a generator turning on. Mark recognized the rumble and then the steady rush of noise. Just a generator, rumbling in the dark. Some lights turned on in the distance, in the dark, far beyond the sheets of rain.

    Mark felt a distant fear edge into his stomach like a cold knife that had already been pressed to his flesh for the last hour. Too many bad scenarios played in his mind, each one worse than the last.

    If there were monsters out there, then the lights were a beacon to them.

    Mark told Quark, ¡°Garage down, Quark. Turn off all lights but the small ones.¡±

    The garage door rumbled down, the noise of the moving metal barely heard above the storm. Mark was glad that Quark could still hear his own voice over the noise. The lights turned off. Darkness consumed all, and Mark could only hear the sound of the rain, roaring and roaring. A light turned on in the hallway leading into the house, beyond a proper door. A thick door.

    Mark opened that door and went into the house¡ª

    He turned around and grabbed a shield and sword from the garage, just because he¡­ he wasn¡¯t sure why. He couldn¡¯t take them into the Tutorial. Everything but basic clothes would be stripped from him. But for some reason he wanted a sword in his hands¡ª

    Addashield stood under a light in the downstairs living room.

    Mark yelped, fear breaking into realization that an archmage was here, and he was safe.

    And then Mark remembered that he wasn¡¯t really safe at all.

    Addashield grinned a little, his eyes flickering with a redness that was not his own eye color at all. He said, ¡°You can¡¯t take that into the Tutorial, so you might as well drop it.¡±

    Mark set the sword down against the wall and began taking off the shield, feeling more and less secure by the moment. Oddly enough, even knowing that Addashield had done some horrible things, and knowing that his demon was in partial control right now, Mark was still relieved to see the archmage. A whole lot relieved, actually.

    Mark breathed easy. He calmed.

    Addashield noticed. ¡°You were nervous, and now you¡¯re less nervous?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Big storms are scary sometimes, and you¡¯re here now. Of course I¡¯m less nervous.¡±

    Addashield smiled softly, hummed once in a way that might have been a sign of amusement, and asked, ¡°Ready for the Tutorial?¡±

    ¡°I might have to piss again, but other than that, yes. I made you a sandwich if you want it.¡±

    Addashield said, ¡°Go ahead, and then drink some water. I¡¯m not hungry, but I appreciate the thought. Let¡¯s leave in 2 minutes.¡±

    Mark went and stood over the toilet for a good 30 seconds with his dick in his hands, trying to pee. The storm raged outside and Mark¡¯s stomach was tumbling again. Eventually he managed to squeeze out enough, and then he tucked himself away and had a glass of water from the sink. He splashed his face and then opened the door¡ª

    Addashield was standing there.

    Mark calmed his second near-heart attack away, and then he stood there.

    Addashield said, ¡°I will offer you a handshake. We will grip hands. What I do will sting a little. Only after that will I tell you to accept the Tutorial, and then you will accept the Tutorial. Once we are inside, you are NOT to talk to me. This is vitally important. Small infractions of looking my way will go unnoticed. If you talk to me, if you interact with me directly, then Malaqua might invalidate your Tutorial and you get nothing. I will get nothing.

    ¡°I will not save you if you look to die. You dying or failing the Tutorial today will mean the equivalent of my own death. Do not expect me to save you for any reason at all.

    ¡°I will, however, assist you with scouting, as long as the scouting is not directly a part of that particular testing room. This means pointing out monsters that are obvious. You will follow my instructions when I give them, but otherwise the Tutorial is your own.¡±

    Mark held out a hand. ¡°Understood.¡±

    Addashield breathed deep and closed his eyes for a moment.

    He opened his eyes in time to a flash of lightning from outside, or maybe his eyes had actually lit up. Mark could not say. All he could tell was that Addashield was focused, and his eyes were vaguely red and black. Addashield took Mark¡¯s hand.

    It was a strong grip.

    The archmage¡¯s black adamantium bracer on that arm deformed a little, twirling out into long, thin needles. Needles slipped into Mark¡¯s forearm and bicep. It stung, but not too much at all.

    Addashield said, ¡°At the end of the Tutorial, there is a pillar with a hunk of prismatic substance on it. I will approach it first, do some alterations to it, and you will touch it when I tell you to, which will be right after I alter it. There can be no hesitation. When you touch it you will Awaken and Complete the Tutorial, with either a bi-Talent or the tri-Talent that the makers of the Color Drops were trying for. We can talk after you Awaken, in the time between Tutorial end and return to the real world. Understand?¡±

    Mark was giddy and frozen from a combination of anticipation and unease.

    Mark said, ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Call out to Malaqua and the Tutorial and accept it.¡±

    Mark felt his breath hitch in his throat.

    The storm raged outside, rain battering the world. The sky roared.

    Here it was.

    Mark was finally getting to take the Tutorial.

    Mark spoke, ¡°Malaqua! I accept the Tutorial!¡±

    Words filled his vision.

    Mark Careed of Earth.

    You are at least 18 years of age and eligible for a pure mana baptism.

    Initializing teleport to the Tutorial.

    Everything went white.

 024

    Mark found himself in a white room.

    Addashield was a part of the room, and not quite. Addashield floated, cross-legged, and a flowing wind surrounded him, masking him to most sights, erasing him from sight and revealing him at the same time. It reminded Mark of looking at someone through a window with slatted blinds.

    And then there was the goblin.

    A young one that must have just been born from the corpse of some monster, for it was still covered in bloody mucus. It was still disoriented from its own teleport, too. It lay on the ground ahead, scrabbling to get to its feet, and it would soon rise to its feet and be ready to eat and spread.

    Goblins were nasty beasts. If they attacked a weakened person, or if the goblin was strong, then the person would balloon with parasitic infection and then pop, spilling more goblins into the world. Even with that sort of power, they were on the low end of threats on Daihoon.

    They couldn¡¯t infect you in the Tutorial, though, but only because they were truly weak here in the Tutorial. They probably could infect a person just fine, even here in this space, but those that they infected never made it out.

    Addashield¡¯s voice spilled through the air like a hidden wind, ¡°Kill it.¡±

    Mark heard those words just fine, but the goblin gave no reaction.

    Mark took a step forward, the shaking in his hands, the weakness of his steps, all fading. Nerves stilled. Mark knew what must be done.

    Social interactions were tough. Battle? Battle was easy. Theoretically. Mark had never actually killed anything before. Cleaning fish to eat them did not count, and the False Tutorial only felt real. It wasn¡¯t real, real. This was real, real.

    The goblin jerked as it heard Mark¡¯s footsteps.

    Mark heard that older goblins could talk and interact with people in order to truly harm a settlement, or a city, but the young ones were feral monsters, just like the monster now rising before Mark.

    It was about the size of a child and deeply green with lighter green stripes on its head and body. Big ears flicked this way and that, searching for other threats, but Mark was the only threat here, and its big red eyes focused on him. It blinked out the goop in its eyes, and then it screamed and ran at Mark, exactly like a monster.

    Mark punted the beast into the far wall.

    It had tried to grab onto his foot but it failed completely, its coordination little more than base instincts. The monster slammed into the white wall with a wet splat and a bounce. It struck the ground with no bounce at all, and it barely moved once on the ground.

    Mark walked over and stomped on its head.

    It was now one very dead goblin.

    Blood and birthing mucus scattered as frail bones broke. The goblin died, and Mark stood solid upon what was left of it. And then the body began to ebb away. It was not like the hardlight, holographic constructions of the False Tutorial. This had been a real being. A real life. And now the Tutorial was unspooling its entire existence. Flesh became memory and color that flowed into the white floor, and then away. It had become pure mana. Prismatic mana.

    Mark wasn¡¯t wholly sure how life worked out past the Tutorial, but he was 18 years old, he watched popular movies and shows some of the time, and he had once been a kid in school right alongside everyone else. Curtain Protocol was real, with most people simply never talking about magic at all in order to keep their children safe, and able to choose their own magic paths in life, but Mark knew some things.

    The Tutorial was, at its core, a preparation ritual.

    The walker would enter the trial. The trial would gather small resources from wherever it gathered those resources; like plucking a freshly-spawned goblin from its birth and plopping it right here. In the killing or surpassing of those resources, the ritual would turn those resources into pure power. Completing the ritual would allow the walker to Awaken a Talent. Not a Knack or a Knowing, or any weak thing like that. But a true Talent, which some people called Powers.

    Or the walker would die trying.

    Mark¡¯s pants remained bloody and his shoes covered in pink mucus, but the bones and body of the goblin were already gone, turned to mana to empower the ritual to come.

    A door opened up on the side of the white room, and Mark strode forwa¡ª

    Addashield zipped through the opening first, saying, ¡°Fool boy. I will scout for you. I told you this much.¡± Addashield went into the next room, looked around from his floating, half-invisible shell of a spell, and said, ¡°Monster killing room. Two goblins. Spear and mace.¡±

    Mark smiled a little bit and walked through the white arch, into the next room.

    The room was about the same size as the previous one, maybe 5 meters by 5 meters. Same white stone, too, with light coming from everywhere. On the left and right were two goblins. Both of them looked older than the previous one. The left one had a spear that had clearly seen better days. The right one had a mace that looked freshly stolen from some poor low-knight, or something like that. Mark wanted the spear to be a good spear, but he wasn¡¯t going to go after that weapon at all, not when the mace was in such a better condition.

    Both goblins were also trapped in a stasis spell. It looked like ribbons of prismatic light, gently twisting around them, not actually touching them at all. Both goblins looked furious. Both were bleeding from wounds on their heads and other body parts.

    And then the stasis spell broke and both goblins continued the roars that had been stuck in their mouths for however-long. They rushed forward, flinching a little as they realized something weird had happened. But then they saw Mark, and advanced maddeningly.

    Mark was already aiming toward the mace goblin.

    The thing about monsters is that they were always more dangerous than they looked. The mace goblin proved this instantly. His eyes went wide and then narrowed as he saw Mark coming his way. He was a smart kinda monster. He realized that he was being targeted, and he also saw the goblin on the other side of the room. Mace-goblin turned defensive.

    Mark tried to reach the mace goblin, but mace-goblin backed up, running away.

    Spear-goblin was a dumb shit, mindlessly running at Mark, roaring, spear gripped in both hands to run Mark through. That spear was not meant for his tiny body. He was half the size of that spear.

    Mark thought he had been prepared for a life or death battle, but Mark found himself switching targets with some difficulty. He was absolutely sure that the mace-goblin would attack when the spear-goblin''s attack failed. Mark adapted his stance.

    With shoes solidly on the ground, Mark waited till the last moment to grab the spear goblin¡¯s weapon. Hands on the shaft of rough-make wood, Mark pivoted, swinging the goblin¡¯s spear outward, and the spear-goblin held onto his spear, not letting go, because spear-goblin was stupid.

    Mace-boy launched forward the very second Mark was occupied, his mace aimed at Mark¡¯s legs.

    Mark twisted out of the path of mace-goblin, slamming spear-goblin onto top of mace-goblin. The mace went wide. Spear-goblin held onto his spear for dear life, like a cat clinging to a branch, even as he collided with mace-goblin.

    Mark kicked the confused mace-goblin and the spear-goblin both, sending them away from the mace. They were adult goblins so they didn¡¯t get sent far, but it was enough.

    Mark dashed after the mace and grabbed it off of the ground.

    Mace-goblin was standing over spear-goblin, hand on the spear, by the time Mark secured his new weapon. With a feral, hateful grin, mace-goblin pulled the spear out of spear-goblin¡¯s body, and spear-goblin turned to motes of rainbow light. Mace-goblin had killed spear-goblin.

    Mace-goblin was now ¡®spear goblin¡¯.

    And Mark had a pretty good mace. It was a rod of solid metal, a forearm long with a tough leather handle. The ball at the end had some small metal spikes. This was more of a bashing weapon than a cutting weapon. Mark smiled. This was a good weapon.

    The goblin smiled, too. He said something in a feral tone. Mark didn¡¯t understand it, but it did freeze him in his tracks. A talking goblin? Ah. A really smart goblin, then.

    He was taught not to care about what he might see in the Tutorial, but it still suddenly weighed on him that this was a real person in front of him¡ª

    ¡°He didn¡¯t actually say anything,¡± Addashield said. ¡°He probably learned that making mouth noises caused people to hesitate. It¡¯s a common tactic that is genetically bred into them through various environmental factors, because, as you see, it worked.¡±

    The goblin made more mouth noises, upturning the last syllable to make it sound like a question.

    ¡°Ha!¡± Addashield said, ¡°He¡¯s a smart one. Probably born from a goblin implanting seeds into a human. Probably from one of the mountain tribes. Enemies to humanity. They mostly fight against others like themselves in the Tutorial. This is probably his last room. If he should kill you, he will Ascend. You¡¯ll kill a lot of his kind in the future.¡±

    The goblin walked forward while Addashield was talking, spear gripped lightly to the side, eyes focused on Mark, not on his weapon. He said small words that were not words. Mark was ready for the sudden lunge and spear thrust, whenever it would ha¡ª

    Eyes alight with desire, mouth moving, the goblin tightened his grip and thrust, digging his feet onto the stone at the same time. Mark knocked it aside with the mace. The goblin pulled back and then thrust forward again. Mark advanced inward, parrying the blow and then punching the goblin in the face with his other hand, with a fist. The goblin went down, but he turned that fall into a roll, keeping his spear at the ready.

    Mark advanced, twice as big as the goblin, the mace giving him even more range. The goblin roared fury, stabbing and stabbing, none of his blows coming anywhere near hitting because Mark had range on him. A lot of range.

    Mark swung at the spear with his mace and the shoddy thing broke, the metal tip flying wide. It wasn¡¯t even a spear tip. It was just a hunk of metal wrapped with vine-twine around the end of a mostly-straight length of wood.

    Now that his fingers wouldn¡¯t get cut by grabbing the weapon, Mark did exactly that, grabbing the weapon. The goblin did not let go. He tried to fight. Mark brained the goblin before he could react fast enough to realize he should have let go of the spear. The goblin sprawled, insensate, its red eyes wandering slowly back and forth as it laid on its back, trying to understand what was happening.

    Mark advanced.

    Thud. Once more. Smack. Again. Crack.

    The goblin died, though it had taken more effort than Mark would have expected. The little monster turned to ribbons of rainbow light that flowed into the white stone floor, and the light above.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mark took a minute, his gorge rising. He breathed hard, pulling back from puking.

    He maintained.

    The archway to the next room beckoned. Addashield was already through to the other side.

    Mark saw a river-like area beyond the archway. Mark walked into that next room and saw a rather standard location-based trial. He had even studied for this one. It was a river, two sandy banks, and a lot of scattered boulders here and there, both in the water and outside of the water, on the banks.

    The river itself looked deceptively shallow, but it was deep enough and fast enough to sweep or sink Mark to his death. It was also a transference room.

    The proper exit held on the other side of the river, far up the shore; an archway of white that was currently shut. If Mark got to the archway on the other bank then he¡¯d go forward, but if he got swept away then he¡¯d follow a different trial path. A longer one. If he drowned, then he was just dead.

    There was probably a monster in the water, too, though not always.

    The ¡®room¡¯ was understood.

    What was completely outside of Mark¡¯s expectations was the ¡®room¡¯ itself, and that¡¯s what caused him to gasp a little.

    Addashield watched Mark, his eyes peeking out from between the blinds of his invisibility spell.

    The room was like the focused part of a much, much larger picture. That¡¯s what Mark first thought. The river was 30-ish meters wide. 30 more meters of rocky, sandy riverbank sandwiched the rushing waters. The river itself was maybe 100 meters long. So a rough circle of space, centered on a river. An archway held behind Mark, though the door there was already closed, while another archway held on the other side of the river bank.

    Beyond this space was an out-of-focus picture, becoming much, much more unfocused the further one looked. There was no actual wall. The river came into focus inside this space, and left focus when it left. About a hundred meters of river looked like normal waters.

    Addashield said, ¡°It¡¯s a real place taken out of time and space and used for the Tutorial. The fading on the edges is a result of the unthreading of the space, taken for use here and now. It can be threaded back into position after you¡¯re done with the trial. There¡¯s a fish monster at the beginning of the river, so don¡¯t try getting into the water there. Start in the middle if you plan to swim, and swim fast. I¡¯ll let you know if the fish comes after you.¡±

    Mark almost mumbled that of course there was a monster in the river.

    Mark looked at the river and walked down to the very beginning of the rushing water. A set of boulders sat close to the beginning of the river section. The river was slower behind those boulders. So yeah. Something should be living down there. Mark couldn¡¯t see it, but he did not doubt Addashield¡¯s words.

    Mark had some choices, then.

    First off, he was swimming. No way around that.

    So what to do with the mace? It was heavy. He could swim with it, and defend himself, or not do that, and go for speed. He wanted to keep his mace. Swimming or rock-hopping to a better place to start the swim with the mace was a bad idea, because the rocks by the shore were not plentiful enough to allow him to forgo swimming entirely. So he needed to throw it across the river and pick it up over there.

    Easy enough. Decision made.

    Mark went back to the middle of the river and then he gripped the mace in his hands¡­ in one hand. Yes. A one-handed throw¡­

    Ah.

    It would be monumentally embarrassing if Mark missed the 30-ish meter throwing distance, so he didn¡¯t just throw it across the river. He had plenty of shore on this side, though, so he did a few practice throws, and he was glad he did. 30 meters was a lot of distance to cover with a throw with a weapon he had never thrown before.

    As the mace slapped into the ground, on his first practice throw, Addashield chuckled once.

    ¡°Good thing you practiced. That wouldn¡¯t make it across at all.¡±

    Mark almost wanted to banter with the guy, but he had been warned off of that. So Mark walked the 20-ish meters to the mace, picked it up, and tried again. His second throw was better. The mace sailed a good 35-ish meters before it plunked into the rocky riverbank. He grinned. That was plenty enough to clear the river¡ª

    Ah. Wait. His clothes.

    Mark took off his long-sleeve shirt and tied it around the mace. He¡¯d keep the pants and shoes and everything else.

    He was pretty sure he could make it four boulders into the 30-meter wide stream, which meant he¡¯d have 20-ish meters to swim, and the shirt would slow him down in the river too much, so he wasn¡¯t going to wear it. With the shirt tied up around the head of the mace, Mark gave it another practice throw and found his distance acceptable.

    Mark aimed his next throw across the river, took a running start that ended at the water¡¯s edge, and flicked the mace as hard as he could. The weapon sailed, tumbling end over end, and crashed into the rocky shore a good several meters past the water¡¯s edge. The shirt muffled the crack of steel against river rock. It was safe.

    Now. Did all that noise wake the fish?

    Mark went to the front of the river and looked at the calm space behind the rocks; the monster¡¯s shelter.

    Addashield said, ¡°It woke up, yes, but it¡¯s not getting out of its hiding hole for anything other than flesh.¡±

    ¡­ Eh!

    Mark surveyed the river once more. Except for at the very start where the rocks formed a shield for the monster in the center, the center of the river was empty of rocks. The sides had some boulders here and there, to about 5 meters out on both sides. Mark found some rocks that led out about seven meters, a little left of center.

    And then he went rock hopping.

    It was kinda fun, really. Hop onto one rock, then onto the next. And then he was staring at a good 23 meters of mostly open water. Since he was wearing shoes, pants, and an undershirt, he¡¯d be slowed down a little, but it was a small price to pay in case the fish was a lot faster than Mark wanted him to be. He¡¯d given up enough protection in support of speed by throwing his long shirt across the way, with the mace.

    Mark breathed deep. The waters ahead were empty of rocks, while the river itself was clear, blue, and deep, with green grasses flowing in those depths. Visibility was great in this area; probably for the monster¡¯s benefit.

    Mark braced himself, and then he dove forward. The water was cold, but not terribly so.

    He swam for it, swimming as fast as he possibly could, arms wheeling, feet kicking, not bothering to take another breath because the fish was probably right there behind him. He scrambled fast, swimming forward but also going with the flow, but not too much, lest he fall out of the river zone. He swam in front of a boulder and kicked off of it to get across faster. Before he knew it he was hauling himself out of the water¡ª

    The water churned behind him, bright yellow fins the size of a shark¡¯s slapping this way and that, turning the clear water into white water. Mark did not see the fish¡¯s face, or maw. He didn¡¯t have to. That fish was a fucking man eater.

    Holy shit.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard.

    Mark was already out of the river and back on dry land. The fish monster slapped at the shore, but Mark watched from far away.

    He had ended up about 10 meters from the edge of the space, where all the world turned foggy and unclear and the river rolled on into a different path of the Tutorial, so he hiked back to the middle of the ¡®room¡¯ and grabbed his shirt-wrapped mace. As he walked, he calmed. He breathed deep.

    Mark took off all his clothes and spent a minute wringing them out, before he put them back on, asking no one in particular, ¡°What the fuck is with a fish like that in the fucking third damned room? My god. That cannot possibly be fair.¡±

    Addashield snorted. ¡°It mostly would have harried you enough to throw you down the edge of the river and out to another Tutorial path. It probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to kill you. It¡¯s just an overgrown leech. Teeth more like dull knuckles than sharp and useful.¡±

    Mark shuddered anyway.

    Dressed in damp clothes, Mark gripped his mace and began walking toward the archway, sitting between the clarity of this space and the unfocused rest of the world beyond. Mark saw some sort of arena on the other side.

    Addashield was already through to the other side. ¡°Oh! Looks like you¡¯re skipping some rooms. This is a boss room already. The normal path was probably down the river.¡±

    Mark flinched in his steps.

    Ah.

    So.

    Hmm.

    Mark kept walking forward, wondering about what other gear he could have gotten if he would have allowed himself to be chased down the river, but also thrilled that he could finish the Tutorial faster. No matter what could have been down that other path, he would have been bludgeoned by the fish and probably nibbled, and left bleeding. A wound taken early in the Tutorial could easily spell death later, for any number of reasons.

    With sure steps, Mark entered an arena space about 20 meters across.

    The floor was stone covered with a thin layer of sand. The arena walls did not exist, instead it was just stone stadium seats about 8 deep, that came all the way down to the sands. Sand was everywhere, really, even on the seating. The world beyond the stadium was unfocused, just like the river scene in the previous room. The archway to the previous room was gone.

    There were no people or monsters here. Just sand.

    Addashield said, ¡°One enemy.¡±

    Mark saw it quickly, even before Addashield got out the first word.

    It was invisible.

    The sand scattered here and there as some maybe-bipedal monster rushed forward from the other side of the arena. It was fast.

    Mark kicked sand at it, briefly revealing a humanoid shape that sputtered and backtracked, kicking up sand as it flinched backward, to the side. That told Mark a few different things. It had eyes or other sensory organs that didn¡¯t like sand getting in them, so it wasn¡¯t an elemental. It also had something like two arms and two legs and a body. It might have an invisible weapon, but probably not. It probably wasn¡¯t an overly smart monster, like the goblin had been; it had attacked instantly.

    It was a monster that made itself invisible, or it was born that way, and it attacked directly.

    There was also some sort of silence magic happening, because Mark couldn¡¯t hear anything. He could barely hear the sound of sand moving as the creature retreated to the stadium seating, where stone rose above the sands and there was no way to spot the creature at all.

    Addashield said, ¡°I can¡¯t tell you where it is when it¡¯s actively hiding. If you know where it is then the god who runs these Tutorials will know I am here. I have a deal that allows me to be here, but he still doesn¡¯t like it. He will invalidate your Tutorial. Don¡¯t die.¡±

    Mark wanted to argue over the ridiculousness of those two statements taken together; ¡®I can be here¡¯ and ¡®He will invalidate your Tutorial¡¯. He did not argue, though. He waited for the monster to do something¡ª

    Sand pitter-pattered behind him.

    Mark turned, eyeing the sand¡ª

    There!

    Mark waited until the monster was within 4 meters and kicked sand at the rapidly advancing footsteps¡ª

    A scream that was half a roar. The monster raced to the side.

    Mark raced faster. He rushed and swiped his mace through the space where¡ª

    He hit something, but there was almost no resistance at all. A glancing blow.

    The monster turned, its feet or whatever splashing sand this way and that.

    Mark blindly chopped with his mace and this time he hit something hard. Something shattered, like glass, or like a bubble popping. A creature stood revealed, and yet Mark was even more confused than before. It was a skeleton-like thing, shaped fully like a human¡¯s skeleton, but the bones were all wrong and there was some sort of mirage to the whole thing that hid it from sight, that tried to wrap around the skeleton again.

    Mark bashed and bashed, and the skeleton tried to defend itself, to retreat, but Mark hit it harder. The skull was bone shards and the arms couldn¡¯t move anymore, but it wasn¡¯t until Mark broke the spine, behind the ribs, that some vital force died. The skeleton suddenly discombobulated, every bone scattering a little, as though tension had been released.

    As the creature started to dissolve into rainbows, Mark caught sight of its lower jaw. That jaw had fangs. The upper jaw might have had fangs, too; it was already gone, so Mark couldn¡¯t tell. Other than that the bones were all sorts of fucked up, like they were growing crystals or spurs, or some shit like that. The whole skeleton had some sort of orange slime mold on it, too.

    Mark stared at the dissolving monster. ¡°Was it trying to bite me? Was that a fucking¡­ I know the name. Not a vampire. Something¡­ Fuck. I forgot.¡±

    Mark knew the monster. It was a slime variant. It crawled into skeletons and it puppeted them. Skeleton slime? Sure. That worked.

    Addashield was already through the next door. ¡°Looks like waves of monsters next! I bet you¡¯re over halfway through~¡±

    So that was a weird inflection in Addashield¡¯s voice.

    Mark followed Addashield into the next room, not quite sure about the archmage¡¯s state of mind, for him to talk all like ~this~

    It was a little disturbing.

    It was fine.

    Mark would save Addashield from his demon and then go on with his own life, into the broad, broad world beyond.

 025

    The monster wave room was rather simple but most people died to this one, or at least that¡¯s what people believed. Hard to know who died in any particular room when they all, you know, died, and Malaqua didn¡¯t publish statistics or anything like that. So perhaps it was more correct to say that it was believed that most people died in the monster wave room.

    There was a canyon road. High rock walls on both sides.

    Mark stood at one end of the canyon road. He had just come out of an archway that was now closed, and vanished. What remained behind him was a stout curtain wall made of stone that spanned from one side of the canyon to the other. A closed wooden door held in the center of that wall. It had probably been a sturdy door at one point in time, but it was on its last legs. Someone had propped up what remained of the door into the frame, and left it there. It could be taken down easily enough, if Mark failed to defend it.

    Down the road, ahead of Mark, lay a warzone. Smoke rose from burning carts. Broken bodies, most of them human. Some monsters of a chimeric nature that looked like dogs with exposed wounds everywhere, and extra limbs or faces or tails. Malformations; Mark supposed. Malformations came in all kinds. Most people, when they monsterized, turned into malformations. All malformations were usually pretty weak, but when they happened there were usually a lot of them.

    A duo of dogs appeared from behind a pair of flaming carts. They looked around, unsure of what was going on, but they rapidly noticed each other. They noticed Mark a second later. They ignored the fallen bodies as possible food because they weren¡¯t interested in food at all. They were interested in causing pain.

    They howled as they dashed toward Mark.

    A shield lay on the ground beside him, on a corpse. It looked like a pretty flimsy shield, but it would do, for now. Mark would have to grab it before the next wave, though. The dogs were already here.

    The first one went high, leaping straight at Mark, but a little to his right side. He would have naturally dodged to the left, but the second one was on the left, and he was aiming low.

    Mark went right, swinging his mace down across the right dog¡¯s slavering maw, cracking its neck and sending it back to the ground. He didn¡¯t move fast enough or far enough to the right and the dog partially caught him with its legs. It wasn¡¯t a direct hit and the dog was disoriented now, and almost crashed into its partner, so it was fine. Mark repositioned just in time for the second dog to reposition, too. The second dog turned. It leapt at him, its double face open in two hateful barks, roars, bites.

    Overhand smash. Crash to the ground.

    First dog was there again. Kick to the face. It bit his shoe but Mark had good shoes. Smash smash. The dog let go.

    Mark entered the flow.

    Second dog was active again. It rotates around Mark, aiming to bite into his legs. Thwack crack goes the mace. Lucky strike to the neck. Dead dog, already dissolving into rainbow ribbons.

    First dog growls and backs away. Howls.

    Mark has a moment. He goes for the shield on the ground. Grabs it.

    Two more dogs reappear out of nowhere at the end of the canyon path.

    He doesn¡¯t wait for the first dog to get reinforcements, though the first dog would certainly want him to. Mark advances. The dog retreats to its new friends but not fast enough, and Mark had already brained it once or twice already. Thwack! Crack! Strike to the hip and shoulders. Once more the mace comes down and the mutant mutt dies, becoming rainbow ribbons that dissolve out of focus.

    Mark controls his breathing. In, out, steady. Breathing is secured.

    The next two dogs are there.

    The shield helps to make short work of both of them but after they take some hits they howl and two more dogs appear out of nowhere.

    Four dogs at once. Two of them injured.

    Mark takes a nip to his left thigh. It could have been worse. The dog¡¯s jaw was already broken by Mark¡¯s mace. Crack crack goes the mace, meaty thwaps against neck and shoulder and head, when Mark can get it. Two more dogs turn into rainbow ribbons and Mark advances on the final two, killing one as he fends off the other with his shield. Once more, raised high, the mace is ready. Mark breathes outward, swinging down. He does not miss. The last dog dies.

    There are no others.

    An open archway appeared at the other end of the canyon, beyond the burning caravan and the bodies of the other monsters and the people. The burning caravan and the bodies all vanish in that same moment, dropping out of focus.

    Mark breathes as he watches all his possible loot vanish.

    He didn¡¯t grab it while the scenario was active, so he doesn¡¯t get it.

    It¡¯s fine. He has a good shield, and his mace looks great. Really high quality mace. Solid metal. Bit heavy, but heavy gets the job done. The shield is just wood. Thick wood, too.

    Mark breathes and breathes, and relaxes. He takes his pants off to check his wound. It¡¯s not much of a wound. Pants go back up. This is good.

    That was a good fight. Just like he imagined a fight going. Perhaps there had been other ways to solve this room, but a straight up fight was the best way, in Mark¡¯s mind, and so that is what he did.

    Addashield floats by him, saying, ¡°Really good showing there, Mark. You have a real feel for combat, don¡¯t you? I wasn¡¯t sure at first, and watching you train didn¡¯t really show me anything interesting¡ª Ah. Aside from the fun you had with the kaiju blade. That was a hoot. You¡¯re suited for this life, aren¡¯t you? Eh. Don¡¯t answer that. I shouldn¡¯t have even asked any questions. Good showing, Mark.¡±

    Addashield floats forward.

    Mark exits the flow, his breath a little shaky, but feeling good.

    Mark came back to himself, back to life outside of battle. He was kinda happy about what had just happened. That was a good fight. He didn¡¯t freeze. He just flowed. Mark hefted his mace in his right hand and his shield on his left forearm, his grip tight on the handle¡­ He adjusted the strap a little, tightening it up. And then he breathed again, focusing.

    He walked into the next room.

    - - - -

    It was a corridor with tiles, each about a meter square, and all of them were white. They were obviously pressure plates, and the holes in the nearby walls were spear-holes. Those holes in the ceiling could be problematic. They probably were¡­

    And there were holes in the floor, too! Between every tile and at the corner of every tile were spear holes. Mark almost missed those.

    He studied the floor of the landing zone, underfoot, and there were no visible holes in this space. No holes on the walls or ceiling, either.

    Addashield floated across the entire length of corridor, not touching anything, to float at the end, and say, ¡°Pretty easy. You got this.¡±

    Easy for him to say so. Mark had to actually walk across the traps!

    And...

    Mark frowned a little. Something was wrong with Addashield, but Mark wasn¡¯t going to say anything. Still, though. He said he would guide Mark. Explaining which tiles were traps seemed¡­ Seemed like Addashield should have done that. Without needing to be asked, too.

    Whatever.

    Mark had trained for this sort of thing and did not actually need Addashield.

    He walked forward, bent down, and reached out to tap the first tile with his mace¡ª

    The tile clicked downward the instant Mark touched it harder than a feather¡¯s weight. That tile was now a good inch below all the other tiles, which meant that every single tile was a switch.

    What happened next truly took Mark¡¯s breath away.

    In the leading edge of the tile, around the entire corridor, a spear came out of every single hole in the floor and the ceiling and the walls. Those spear points shunked out of their hiding holes, crushing together in the center of the hallway, just in front of the tile Mark had touched. The entire hallway, in that one thin band, closed off, like an iris shutting. Hundreds of spears, each black and probably-iron, closed off the hall.

    And then every single spear pulled back into the floor, smooth as butter.

    Mark breathed hard, trying to understand the full nature of the trap room.

    This was a fucking deadly trap room.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    This was too deadly by¡ª

    Mark had pulled back once he touched the first tile. The tile remained depressed. And ever so slightly, in the cracks between that first row of tiles, more spears ticked upward, barely showing out of the holes¡ª

    Every single spear in the entire first row of tiles collided inward, like ten irises closing down into the space in front of Mark, and then shunking back into the ground. For a brief moment that entire meter-length of corridor was filled with spears.

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°HOLY FUCKING shit that¡¯s not a fair... one.¡± His voice had lost some enthusiasm there at the end.

    The tile he had tapped suddenly clicked back up, snapping back into position.

    Addashield said nothing. He just watched from behind his blinds of invisibility, as he floated at the end of the corridor.

    Mark had never heard of this sort of trap before, but he could guess at it easily enough. Running forward fast was a death sentence; the second he touched a tile, the tile would click down and the leading edge of that meter-sized-tile space would fill with spears.

    And then he would have to wait for that row to go back down.

    But if he waited too long, then he¡¯d get speared by all the other spears in that entire section of tile.

    Mark reached out and touched a different tile in the front row.

    Just like before, the tile clicked down, the leading edge of that entire row became spears, those spears went down ¡ªMark counted the seconds¡ª and 5 seconds later, that entire half-meter row of tiles turned to spears. Spears only came out from between the tiles, though. Not from the tiles themselves.

    The spears went down, the line reset.

    Mark reached forward to the second row of tiles and touched the tile.

    The same thing repeated, with the front line of the corridor, in front of that row of tiles, turning to spears, and then five seconds later that entire row turning to spears. The spears only came out of the edges of the tiles, at about 10-centimeter distances from each other. Nothing happened in the first row of tiles.

    Mark looked around.

    He saw no other parts of the corridor changing in response to the testing of the tiles.

    Could he disable the trap by smashing the spears to the side? He had a nice metal mace, after all.

    But...

    If he tried to actively disable the trap by smashing some parts of it with his mace, maybe to keep the whole thing from resetting, then it would enter a chaotic state. In such a state, the puzzle might become impassible, for spears might just start coming out of everywhere, or some shit. In that case Mark would need to keep disabling the entire trap, and then the next room he ended up in would be a harder room. Or rather, more grueling. Maybe. Violating a test usually resulted in a harder room¡­

    Oh.

    Shit.

    Was he supposed to escape the malformations in the previous room? Maybe go through the easily-broken wooden door, instead of fighting them directly?

    Ah.

    This was a punishment room¡­

    Even punishment rooms were still traversable, though.

    ¡­ Still, though.

    Mark had never heard of a trap like this one. This sort of trap screamed that it was the type of trap you disabled and then you took the longer route to Awakening.

    But the problem with attempting to disable this trap is that Mark knew he couldn¡¯t actually disable this trap, not really. It had too many moving parts. If he started disabling it, then he¡¯d have to continue to the end, ensuring that every single spear was out of its hole and, like, bent and broken and in the hallway, or else it could enter an active-trap scenario. In those sorts of traps, the room would pay attention to him and then lay in wait to stab him when it could.

    The final rooms of the Tutorial always included active traps. This one might actually be an active trap, too¡­

    Shit.

    ¡­ Well.

    This trap was meant to be tackled one meter at a time. Each tile was a meter square, after all.

    Mark tested the first row of tiles, each one, to see if there was a safe path.

    A few minutes later, and after testing the second row, too, Mark knew there was no safe path at all.

    But¡­ Looking at the tiles and how the spears only came up from the edges...

    Could he just¡­ crouch inside that square meter, and not get poked at all?

    Mark activated the trap again, to see if that could work.

    The spears came out just like before and they all closed into the center of the corridor, in front of that row of tiles, like an iris closing. The center of the iris was about 2 meters off of the ground, so a bit above his head. Those spears had come out of the leading tile at about every 10 centimeters, so 10 to a tile. This completely blocked the way forward. No way of going through that.

    When the spears went down, the spears to the sides of the meter-wide tiles launched into the middle of the room. With a spear around the edges of the tiles, each coming out from a hole in the ground 10 centimeters from each other, there were more spears active, by number...

    But there was an entire meter-square space on every tile that was completely open. Mostly, anyway.

    If the spears in the walls and in the ceiling all came out at odd angles, or if they came out in a crossing pattern, then the trap was just impossible to cross. But they came out of the walls in an iris pattern.

    So, actually. This was okay?

    The corridor itself was a good seven meters across, too. There was one row of tiles in the very center leading all the way to the other end of the corridor.

    If Mark tried to walk on the tiles to the side, then the spears coming out of the walls would get him, since they were aimed at angles. But if he walked in the center, then he could just¡­ walk in the center. The spears would all go up at his sides, and he could just¡­ Well. A meter-sized tile was a lot of space to stand in.

    If he stepped, waited for the leading edge to fall down, and then went forward, then he¡¯d never be surrounded by the spears coming out of the sides of the tiles at all. There was that 5 second delay in the spears coming out of the ground, too.

    So he just had to step, let the spears go down, and then step, and it would be fine.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Mark told himself, ¡°This isn¡¯t as bad as it first appears.¡±

    Mark stepped onto the first tile. It clicked down. Spears went up in front of him, and then went down.

    He stepped forward again. Spears closed off the way forward, threatening to spear him, and behind him 5 seconds had already passed, so the entire corridor filled with spears, on that row back there. This row was still empty. He could actually step back onto that tile behind him and step into open air, between the spears. But doing that would be bad. He¡¯d be crossing the line where the spears would come out at the slightest touch of tiles.

    The spears in front of him went down.

    Mark walked forward. The leading edge crowded out with spears, irising from the leading edge and closing off in the center. They went down just as the second row of tiles behind him was fully filled with spears, but even then, there was a gap, here, in this center tile. Lots of space, really.

    Mark walked forward, not wanting to be in the big gap of spears anyway.

    He was calm as could be.

    Spears shunked in and out of the corridor.

    The corridor was 25 tiles long.

    It took Mark about 2 minutes to get through the whole thing.

    Mark stepped off of the last tile, onto solid ground near Addashield, and he looked backward¡ª

    The entire hallway suddenly filled with spears and then the spears undulated in and out, in a wave, like a throat swallowing. The spears went back into their holders, and then rippled outward just once, just barely.

    Mark broke out in a cold sweat and sat on the ground for a moment.

    Addashield said, ¡°Good work.¡± An archway appeared and he floated through it. ¡°Next room is a great journey.¡±

    Mark sat there on the floor for a moment longer.

    He collected himself, and then he advanced.

    - - - -

    A Great Journey room was simple in design.

    It was big.

    Very big.

    Mark started at the foot of a rocky mountain. There wasn¡¯t much to the place save for rocks, dirt, and a few scattered low trees and bushes. It was not a very big mountain, but it was big enough. The peak of the mountain was visible, and so too was a hundred-ish-meter wide path from Mark¡¯s entrance to that peak, but everything else was out of focus, the very world itself unspooling beyond some indeterminate distance.

    The path was clear.

    ¡°Climb the mountain,¡± Mark said to himself. ¡°Simple enough.¡±

    It was easier said than done, but Mark got to it, and Addashield floated in front of him, leading the way.

    There was a canyon crossing the path. Mark found a way down and then back up, back into the light.

    Cliffs were the next obstacle. Mark was sweating hard by the time he backtracked this way and that way, finding handholds and small paths to lead upward. Some cliffs were larger than others. Those required backtracking up and down a few times. With his mace tucked into his belt and his hands bleeding a little bit, but a grin on his face, Mark ascended the cliffs.

    The mountain peak loomed.

    Half an hour from the start, Mark took a break. His legs burned. His lungs felt on fire. He had kinda forgotten how fatigue felt this last week, under the Color Drop treatment. Those drops had fixed him up faster than he could break down, but now he was back to a baseline human, all the way.

    Addashield looked down at Mark, saying nothing.

    Mark got up and trudged on, trying to keep up a good pace.

    The only danger in a Great Journey room happened if you didn¡¯t finish it in a few hours; if you stayed here past sunset.

    When Mark had entered the room, the sun had been somewhere at 2 hours to setting. Hard to know, because the world was unfocused out there.

    Mark reached the peak as the unfocused sun was just starting to touch the unfocused mountain range on the horizon. It was maybe 10 minutes to full sunset.

    Mark pulled himself over the final cliff, and there was the peak, all rocky and tan. A doorway into the next room loomed just to the side of the rocky peak. Mark chuckled as he hauled himself back to his feet and got going. He had imagined needing to go back down the other side of the mountain, running to get down fast enough, but luckily that wasn¡¯t the case at all. This was the end of this room.

    Addashield went through first.

    Mark followed, still grinning, so very thankful that he didn¡¯t need to climb down the other side of the mountain.

 026

    Mark stared across a chasm.

    A single 2-meter wide bridge led from his landing point to the other side. It was a long, long bridge. White stone. Aqueduct-type architecture with a trough in the middle and lips on the side. It was maybe a hundred meters long? It had no railings. It had battle damage or wear-and-tear damage here and there. A whole section of the middle of the bridge was little more than a line of broken concrete, maybe a foot across. It wasn¡¯t a hole in the bridge, but it was close. Holes opened up in other places, though.

    The sky was blue and full of clouds and mist, with some of that mist flowing down below the aqueduct like an airy river.

    A knight in shining armor stood at the other end of the aqueduct.

    Luckily, the knight wasn¡¯t a person. Mark could already tell that. He was an animated armor, so maybe calling him ¡®him¡¯ wasn¡¯t exactly correct. The armor pieces floated here and there, and it didn¡¯t have a helmet. It did have an absolutely huge shield, though, big and rectangular and metal, and a large sword, both of which floated in front of it. The whole thing was kinda discombobulated, floating there. Mark knew of most of the common monsters out there, but not many specifics, so he knew what he was seeing, sort of.

    It was a living armor.

    Was a living armor without a helmet better, or worse? Or was it not a living armor at all? Why was it floating like that, all its pieces barely connected to each other? Mark had thought that living armor held itself together with tendrils, or something.

    It was clearly waiting for a combatant to try and cross what remained of the aqueduct.

    The door to the next room lay beyond the living armor.

    ¡°Well fuck,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation,¡± Addashield said, ¡°This is probably your last room and you can take its body parts as loot. Unless those parts fall over the edges, of course. Or if you fall over the edge. That¡¯s death.¡±

    That¡¯d be death alright.

    Mark looked over the edge, down into the canyon. Wind blew at his face, ruffling his clothes. Everything down there was misty and unknowable. At least it was a comfortable sort of mist. Mark was all sweaty and hot after that walk across the mountain¡ª

    A sudden gust blew up from the canyon and Mark retreated down, to get closer to the bridge, behind the lip of stone at the edge, because that wind was a lot. The wind blew hard across the bridge, whistling danger. The living armor¡¯s floating body spread apart a little, and then the armor shielded itself with its shield, coming back together behind the large rectangle of embossed silver.

    Addashield¡¯s floating blinding spell did a little tumble in the wind, but it came back together rapidly and never really left him at all.

    Mark breathed deep, focusing. He hefted his steel mace and his wooden shield, waiting for the wind to die down. Soon enough the rush of air slowed, and Mark stood up. The living armor came back together, floating gently out from behind its large shield.

    Mark stepped forward¡ª

    The living armor suddenly solidified into a person-shape, feet hitting on the ground and weaponry in its gauntlets. It stepped forward, but just once.

    Mark had only taken a single step, and maybe the armor mirrored him? Mark took another step and the armor did the same thing.

    ¡°¡­ Huh.¡±

    Mark surveyed the bridge, wondering where would be the best place to fight since some of the bridge was broken. A 2-meter wide section for both of them? To maybe get some of the armor¡¯s pieces when he killed it? No. That was probably crazy thinking. Sure, living armor was supposed to be fantastic armor, but Mark would be wearing webweave for any serious monster fights, or once he could afford it. Armor was heavy¡­ Armor was practical, though?

    ¡­ No.

    Not even the sword or the shield. Mark didn¡¯t need either of them¡­

    That sword though.

    Mark wanted the sword.

    He¡¯d take the sword if he could get it. To do that, he¡¯d need to fight the monster where he would have the most advantage, and that probably meant¡­ just on this side of a broken part of the bridge? Make the armor have a hard time closing the distance?

    Oh wait.

    Mark felt like an idiot.

    The monster floated when it was at rest, and walked when it felt like walking. Maybe Mark was the only one constrained to the bridge at all, in which case he didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near the broken part of it, because the monster could just circle around through the air and trap Mark against the broken section of the bridge.

    ¡­ Play it by ear? So far the thing was walking on the ground. Might be a trap¡ª

    The living armor rushed forward.

    Mark stayed right where he was¡­ Hmm. He moved forward a little, to get more in the middle of a good section of the bridge.

    The armor rushed across the bridge. There was a gap in the bridge right in front of it, and it did not stop at all. It ran forward and tumbled straight down into the gap in the bridge, like a silver, jangling rock.

    ¡­ uh.

    Mark heard metal banging on metal¡ª

    Oh shit.

    Mark started running for it, even before he truly understood what he already knew to be true. Legs pumping, arms holding his weapons with as much balance as he could, Mark ran, sprinting down the aqueduct. The jangling of metal stopped, either because of the wind, or because what Mark suspected to be true, was coming true.

    The armor had been floating in the air when Mark first saw it. The wind pushed it around. When Mark had advanced a step, it came together and started walking, adopting a normal-ish person-like walk. That had been a misdirection. A trap, trying to get Mark to underestimate it.

    Mark reached the first small gap in the bridge; it was a gap he had not noticed before, but he noticed it now. It was a meter of open air, a full split in the bridge. Mark jumped and sailed over the gap, glancing downward just in time to see the scattered pieces of armor flying below, swirling like metal parts caught on a wind, flowing to where Mark had been standing.

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    Mark landed on the other side of the small gap and turned to see the monster come together where he had been. The sword flashed through the space first, spinning like a windmill, slicing across the stone and the air. Sparks flew. Stone chipped. The shield came up next like a battering ram, held level on the bridge¡¯s surface and flowing from the start of the bridge to where the sword had cut. The sword stilled at hand height, right next to the shield that did the same, and then the armor flowed up from the edges of the bridge, to reform the living armor, to grip its weapons again.

    No fucking way was Mark tangling with that thing.

    Who knew how much strength was behind those blows? This was clearly not a fight room. This was an escape room.

    Mark sprinted forward.

    The archway loomed a good 400 meters ahead.

    Breaks in the bridge were the first problem, though. The living armor made it dangerous to waste time with fear, so Mark prepared to dance across the¡ª

    The wind picked up, hard. A hurricane of fog and wind blew through the canyon and Mark lost his shield, letting go of it before it took him off the edge, as he hunkered down against the bridge. Mark glanced back and saw the armor¡¯s silver sheen flickering in the wind. Glints in the fog rapidly revealed themselves as the armor¡¯s shield, flung a good 25 meters off of the bridge, in the air, and half of its armored body similarly scattered. Its sword lodged into the bridge and the breastplate and some greaves held on that way. Mark wasn¡¯t sure if its desperate cling to the bridge was an affectation, or a necessity.

    He didn¡¯t care to figure it out, either.

    The wind died, so Mark raced forward, to the first big gap in the bridge. A single line of mostly-broken bridge held to the left side of the main path. It was just the left lip of the aqueduct. The floor of the aqueduct was gone, as well as the right lip. The ¡®safe path¡¯ was 10 centimeters wide. The width of a parking bumper.

    Mark had always walked on those parking bumpers in empty lots when he was walking through, just to have fun. And look! This small path even had a gap in it, too, so Mark would have to jump from one parking bumper to the next.

    Simple, really.

    The wind died as fast as it had come, so it was probably safe to risk his life rushing across¡ª

    Nope. Mark glanced to the right, to the direction the wind was coming from, and saw as the fog in the canyon got whipped into yet another frenzy. The wind was coming any second now¡­

    Could Mark kill the armor and take its sword in the seconds of wind? The armor had already reformed itself, too. But it was light enough to get pushed around, wasn¡¯t it? Even though it was running at him now, it didn¡¯t seem to be bracing itself for the next round of wind. Could it tell that the canyon was going to blow again¡ª

    No. It couldn¡¯t tell anything at all, because here came another rush of wind and there went the armor¡¯s shield and half of its body. It failed to slam its sword into the bridge this time, and so the whole thing went flying¡ª

    Oh.

    When the wind died, it was going to come back together right on top of Mark, wasn¡¯t it.

    In that moment of realization, Mark recognized that the living armor also couldn¡¯t actually see him¡­ probably.

    Maybe it had some other sort of senses, like tremorsense or metalsense. Metalkinetics were supposed to get that, Mark knew. Dad always had a sense for fish, though it was a pretty low level sense¡ª

    The wind died, and Mark made a choice to dash across the thinnest part of the bridge, as fast as he could go. Feet on the rock, don¡¯t look down too much, Mark raced forward, balanced on a beam for his very life. And then the beam ended. A gap. A jump. Mark jumped, and he did not stumble on the other side, which was yet another balance beam. He raced forward and edged over to the solid ground of the 2-meter wide bridge, not looking back or down at all, though he did make sure he wasn¡¯t running into any problems. Looking back would slow him down. He didn¡¯t have to look to know what was going on back there.

    The wind whistled.

    That would be the sword, slicing through all of the space behind Mark¡ª

    The shield rose out of the mists to the left, right ahead of Mark, rushing over the edge of the bridge and then angling like a door slamming shut on Mark¡¯s legs. He leapt as much as he could. It clipped his feet anyway.

    It was like getting clipped by a car; impossible to not be moved. Mark tumbled forward, the mace going wide, clattering ahead and then not making any sounds at all. It fell through a gap, maybe. Mark didn¡¯t see what happened up there. He was too busy being tumbled onto the ground. Crashing.

    Mark lay on his back for a bare moment and the pain of getting clipped passed into obscurity.

    Into the flow.

    There was absolutely no way to grab that sword. There was no way to grab the shield. Even touching them would be too much for Mark. No fight. Only run.

    Mark rose on sharp feelings in his legs; broken, no, fractures maybe. The shield spun into the living armor¡¯s left gauntlet, as the sword slapped its hilt into the armor¡¯s right gauntlet. The whole monster came back together on greaves, filled with air, headless with light glittering inside the neck hole of the breastplate. It raced after Mark, and Mark was already running down the length of the bridge.

    Mark heard the jangle-jangle-jangle of armor chasing him, and then he heard nothing, for the living armor had fallen down the hole in the middle of the bridge. It was already falling, the jangle-jangle-jangle of it spreading out, disappearing into the wind down below. It was going to come back up on top of Mark as soon as it could.

    Air flowed.

    Something whistled.

    Mark sprinted.

    He eyed the right side, the mists in the canyon. Here came another howling wind.

    The shield tried to clip him again, lifting off of the right side of the bridge¡¯s edge this time, becoming a rectangle of solid metal that spanned the two meters of the bridge, and a meter and a half into the air. Ducking under it was impossible. Mark leapt over it this time, landing in a roll¡ª

    The canyon howled with an ocean of wind, ripping from the right to the left.

    Mark crawled, scrambled, avoiding the torrent of mist and wind, and then, when the wind died down enough, he sprinted again.

    A trick was coming. Mark knew that.

    He spared one look behind him when he was within two paces of the archway¡ª

    The armor stood 20 meters behind him, unable to run that fast, but its sword was a spear, thrown hard and straight and right down the center of the path.

    Mark dodged left. The sword tore through his shirt and nothing else before it soared through the archway, to turn into rainbow light on the other side.

    For a moment, Mark knew he was going to die. He had dodged too far left, and now he was in the open air. His stomach and lungs seemed to enter his throat as he scrambled without purchase¡ª

    He grabbed the edge of the bridge. Safe! He slammed into the side of the bridge, his feet reaching nothing, his fingers holding on for everything¡ª

    He slipped.

    He grabbed onto a lower ledge, just below the aqueduct lip. The sides of the bridge were heavily carved in floral designs and Mark dangled, but he also slammed a foot into a depression in the stone. Mark saved himself, doing the most stressful pullup of his life.

    The living armor slammed its shield onto the rock above him, above his grip. If he had been holding onto the first edge he would have lost fingers¡ª

    The wind started to howl again, but Mark was below the edge of the bridge, effectively behind a wall of stone. The armor was above, in the open air, and it could not hold onto anything at all, not with its sword already disintegrated, or whatever had happened to it when it went through the portal to the next room. It wasn¡¯t hunkered behind its shield, either.

    Silver metal jangled and crashed as it scattered on the harsh winds.

    Mark started pulling himself up, even before the wind calmed. He grabbed for the higher lip of stone and pulled up, making it onto the surface of the bridge just as the wind began to die.

    Mark rushed for the archway.

    Addashield was on the other side already.

    The living armor came together on the bridge¡ª

    The door closed.

 027

    Mark breathed, focusing. Calming.

    In a distant sort of way, Mark knew he was injured. Probably a lot. His legs hurt. Might have broken some bones in his feet, too. His left leg was bleeding for some reason, and somehow there was a sword cut on his thigh, right next to his dog bite wound, but both were small; barely touched. He wasn¡¯t even bleeding that bad, but there was blood. His sand-brown jeans were dark red here and there. His hands were bleeding, too. His skin was too soft to hold the edge of the aqueduct like he had done.

    But he stood on a white circular platform that glowed faintly.

    Mist spread across the platform, gentle and fluttering. The world beyond the platform was a star-filled sky, with Earth hanging up there like a blue and green marble, cast in white clouds and illuminated like a crescent. The grey, pock-marked surface of the moon spread out in every direction beyond the platform. Golden, glowing spires rose here and there in cracks in Luna, and roads spread across the surface, though Mark couldn¡¯t see a single living person.

    This was the City of Demons.

    Arakino.

    The Palace of Ascension.

    Mark¡¯s Ascension was here. Right there. In the middle of the platform. A plinth held in the center of the room. It was a spear of crystal with a floating blob of prismatic power shimmering bright, just above the tip. It was magical. Mark¡¯s heart beat hard.

    Addashield floated on the other side of the Ascension Plinth, most of his body hidden behind his obscuring magics, only his eyes and strips of clothed body visible. With a solid, heavy voice, Addashield said, ¡°I told you that at this point that I would do something to the pure mana, to ensure you rose with adamantiumkinesis. I don¡¯t have to do that.

    ¡°I would have needed to do that to cleave to the New Contract that I made with my demon, but you made it all the way through, on your own. I barely helped. I would say I helped about 5%, and only really because of that fish. Even that wasn¡¯t much of a help, because I saw you already saw the fish.

    ¡°You can tell people that when they ask about it, later.

    ¡°Mark Careed.

    ¡°You will go far. You will face many troubles, but you will go far. Perhaps, eventually, you can even replace what I used to be, and what I can no longer be at all.

    ¡°I will not be directing your growth like I said I would. Adamantiumkinesis and healing are already yours. What you will gain without me will be weaker in the beginning, but your end result will be stronger, and I will not harm your future growth by offering you decisions in this matter. I will not be going back to my Old Contract, for you have secured something far better than that, and I must repent for my crimes with my death.

    ¡°Touch the prismatic mana.¡±

    Red darkness swirled around Addashield, furious and terrible, a voice drowning out the weight of Addasheld¡¯s words with something much more demonic. ¡°NO! I want him! Infraction! INFRACTION! In¡ª¡±

    ¡°TOUCH IT NOW, BOY!¡± Addashield spat at Mark, his invisibility not wavering at all. And then he yelled at himself, at a clawed, red hand, ¡°By your own words I am taking the deal¡ª¡±

    ¡°INFRACTION!¡±

    ¡°Do not shout illusions¡ª¡±

    Mark had no idea what was happening, exactly, but he believed Addashield was doing the right thing so he rushed the prismatic mana and grabbed it¡ª

    Red-black hatred filled the air even as Mark¡¯s vision turned to rainbows. Something took hold inside of his body like a heartbeat that thrummed reality itself.

    ¡°NO!¡±

    A rush of red-lined blackness flickered, visible only as a glimmer, like a sweeping fishing line¡ª

    Addashield¡¯s silver light grabbed that red and pulled it back, and then suddenly he threw his arms wide and two black rushes of metal scattered far, far away, launched by silver light. The silver vanished revealing red hatred glowing around black bowling balls; his bracers of adamantium.

    An impossible fortune rocketed away into the dark of space, above Luna, into the demon city of Arakino.

    Mark was sure Addashield was yelling at his demon, but the voices turned indistinct, red warring with silver, or something like that¡ª

    But the rainbows all around him changed. The Demon City Arakino briefly appeared as something else. It was not the moon¡¯s surface, littered with canyon-sized cracks, filled with golden spires and golden lights. The roads on the surface were not empty at all.

    It was a metropolis of flying cars and green hills and tall forests and people on picnics, or flying across the skies, or living in the open and just going about their days. Couples holding hands. Babies nursing at breasts. Children running around, living free and without worry.

    It was Mark¡¯s dream to give that to people. To heal the broken worlds of Earth, and Daihoon, even though he had no idea about the real size of either. The real nature of the beast.

    Mark¡¯s mind opened to the truth of his own desire.

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    It would take him lifetimes to be the person he wanted to be.

    And here, now, was the beginning.

    - - - -

    Mark sat in a chair in front of a desk.

    A person sat behind the desk. The person was made of stone. Mark did not know them, but the stone man knew Mark.

    The stone man put a piece of paper in front of Mark. ¡°Here are your Awakening results. Read them, and then I have something to tell you.¡±

    Mark could do nothing but look down at the paper.

    Body, Healthy Body: 002

    Shaper, Adamantium: 004

    Mind: ~

    Natural, Union: 003

    Soul: ~

    Arch: ~

    Mark had some thoughts.

    Those thoughts tumbled out of his mouth, ¡°I guess I understand the names of the six bars on the scanning results¡ª¡±

    Mark paused.

    The person sitting behind the desk was a god.

    It was Malaqua.

    That¡¯s who the stone man was. Malaqua, the Stone God, Arbiter of the System, Demon King or Demon Jailer depending on who you asked, The First Artificial God, and a bunch of other names. That¡¯s who sat behind the desk, here in this golden office on the moon.

    The Earth hung in the black sky beyond the windows behind Malaqua, and Mark sat at Malaqua¡¯s desk.

    This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen.

    He should have been sent right back home, to where he entered the Tutorial, or he could have chosen to enter Daihoon at a small place that needed him. People from Daihoon would get the same sort of option after they took the Tutorial. Mark had been kinda toying with the idea of going to Daihoon right away, but he knew he couldn¡¯t do that. He needed to go back to Orange City, back home. And then he could go to Daihoon, through the normal channels.

    Mark gulped.

    Malaqua said, ¡°You¡¯ve got a tri-Talent. That¡¯s one of the reasons I¡¯m checking in on you personally. It¡¯s a pretty good tri-Talent, too. Healthy Body is always good; you¡¯ll be surprised at how a simple, good form will be endlessly useful. Adamantiumkinesis is simple enough to understand. Union is also phenomenal, and you¡¯ll need to go to the Church of Freyala to learn of Union, but you don¡¯t have to do that. You¡¯ve got a great synergy here, which you¡¯ll have to discover on your own.

    ¡°The second reason for talking to you directly is to give you some context to give to others, since this whole Addashield-thing is going to blow up your entire life and a great deal of the Two Worlds.

    ¡°This whole Addashield problems starts with the fact that every single person Addashield ever took through the Tutorial went on to either make a deal with a demon and become a hidden dragon, or else Addashield¡¯s demon, Kanda, ate them a few years after they denied a demonic contract.

    ¡°Every 10 years he did this. Every 10 years he led another person through their Tutorial and then he either had them become a hidden dragon through a Hybridization Contract, or they denied the demons and he killed them years afterward, when no one would suspect a thing. He still did all the good he claims to have done, but he was also unrepentant when it came to doing what he needed to do to maintain his life.

    ¡°I was only able to see the nature of his duplicity when I became Arbiter of the System 70-odd years ago, after he helped me install myself here, and take over the place. Part of that help was to let him continue guiding people through the Tutorial. At the time, I did not know what he was truly doing, but I learned fast. That is why I always kicked out the people he took through the Tutorial when I found him doing such a thing. I couldn¡¯t actually do anything directly against him, such was the nature of our Contracts, but I could kick him and his cuckoo out of the System, and so I did.

    ¡°That problem is fixed now. Addashield no longer exists, and that deal I made is void.¡±

    Mark¡¯s head was swimming. ¡°Okaaay?!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to do anything with this information. I am already telling others. I am telling you because you are involved in a lot of things happening far, far above your head, and I wanted you to go forward with more information than what you have.

    ¡°And now, Addashield¡¯s New Contract, made by your completion of the Tutorial without me finding out anything at all until the end, has come to fruition. It is a Hybridization Contract. It¡¯s a good one.

    ¡°Addashield repented some by killing himself, but not enough.

    ¡°Addashield was a Hero of Humanity. This much has always been true.

    ¡°He also killed at least 1 person every 10 years and seeded the world with an unknown number of Hidden Dragons. There are at least 2; his original True Apprentices. Maybe more. I don¡¯t know that whole story. I do know he hated doing this, but that is little comfort for all the people he murdered in my Tutorial, and long before that, when it was called the Thresher.

    ¡°I do know that Addashield made a deal with Kanda before you went into your Tutorial. It was a high-risk bet for both of them, because Kanda expected Addashield to go for the New Contract, which was the same as their Old Contract, but Addashield was aiming for the Hybridization Contract.

    ¡°However much help Addashield gave you is how much of the resulting dragon would be Kanda, because that was the main bet. There would be no more sacrifices to the Tutorial, or Hidden Dragons, or anything like that. Addashield and Kanda would hybridize, becoming a dragon, based on how much help he needed to give you in the Tutorial.

    ¡°He only needed to give you around 5% help, and not even then, and only because of the fish, which you already suspected was there.

    ¡°Addashield and Kanda are gone.

    ¡°Now there is a new High Dragon, made of 95% Addashield and 5% Kanda.¡± Malaqua finished with, ¡°You don¡¯t know what a High Dragon is, and that¡¯s fine. With luck, you never will. But if you rise high enough, you absolutely will.

    ¡°I cannot answer any questions.

    ¡°Good day.¡±

    And then the darkness closed in.

    Mark had just enough time to complain, ¡°THE FU¡ª¡±

 028

    Mark woke up in a battle zone.

    The air roared.

    A hurricane blew.

    Someone yelled something.

    Overhead, wings spread in the storm and rain lashed the world. Bright light shattered the hurricane in a line, evaporating the sky from left to right. Mark felt heat on his face and the rain turned hot, and then someone stood over him with an umbrella as the world turned to steam.

    Breathing was hard.

    Someone screamed.

    A blanket went around Mark and strong arms grabbed him and then shoved him through a space, onto cushions. He couldn¡¯t see shit and he could barely understand himself, but then someone slammed in behind him, shoving him to the side, shoving him into the cushioned box. Words filled Mark¡¯s ears like cotton and the world lurched underneath.

    He was in a car. The back seat.

    ¡°GO GO GO!¡± yelled a person. ¡°GO!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯M GOING!¡± yelled another. ¡°The shields are drawing too much power!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m supporting them!¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t recognize either voice but he did recognize that the voices existed. He felt his body once again and he worked his arms around his face. Mark ripped off the blanket.

    He was in a flying car. A woman sat in the seat beside him, her skin reddened and burned here and there, where it wasn¡¯t covered with white cloth. She was bald with a silver breastplate with chainmail spilling out onto her shoulders. She was a paladin outside of her full armor... Or a cleric or priest. Mark wasn¡¯t sure. The guy in the front seat, driving the flying car, wore the full set of silver armor.

    It was Paladin David, with his blond hair. His hair was half burned away.

    Mark glanced at the woman again. He had thought the woman was simply bald, but no. Her hair had been burned away¡ª

    David drove the car into the top of an oak tree and the car lurched and tumbled, all the world flowing around the cabin and beyond the sunroof. Gravity mostly maintained direction in the vehicle with down being toward the floor; hover cars had gravity magics, of course. Trees tumbled beyond the sunroof¡ª

    There.

    In the sky.

    Mark saw a dragon.

    That could be the only explanation for that thing up there, half-hidden in the clouds.

    Mark couldn¡¯t breathe. He couldn¡¯t think. He could only look without seeing.

    Wings, wide and silver and backlit with lightning. A tail, dipping below the clouds, bright black. Claws weaving water and lightning.

    And then the clouds opened like jaws, like a maw, and the car tumbled more, and the dragon left Mark¡¯s view.

    He saw another monster, but it was not a dragon. It was a kaiju in the bay. It seemed almost simple by comparison. Big as fuck, towering over suburbia and the water and with one leg in the water and five legs on land. It was a spider-type¡ª

    Mark recognized the suburbia.

    It was home. Gladegrove. All of it, and more besides. There was the paintball court. There was the trailer park on that side of town. There was the pizza place that had the best pizza around, and the ice cream place by the beach. Everything was either on fire, or broken.

    Mark was supposed to appear exactly where he had left, right? In his house, right? Wasn¡¯t Addashield, too? But Mark had appeared on the ground, in the rain, right?

    In the rain?

    ¡­ In the rain?

    Not inside the house?

    Oh.

    The dragon was Addashield and the house was gone.

    That¡¯s when things stopped making any sense at all. The woman beside him yelled at David to go faster while David tried not to fly too high, or else the blaring warnings about the shield overloading would become more than warnings, and then they¡¯d fall out of the sky because they were near two kaiju fighting in the sky and in the bay, and the world turned horrible around those sorts of events.

    There was no city down there.

    Just blasted trees and houses on fire and craters. So many craters.

    David lifted the cover of a switch on the dash, as he shouted, ¡°I¡¯m turning off inertia-control and gunning it! Hold on!¡±

    Mark held on¡ª

    Suddenly, he was sucked onto the bottom of his chair, his head slamming into the headrest, and then the car went sideways and David was belted in but no one else was. Mark hit the door, and the door held. The woman on the seat crashed into him, and still the door held. All Mark could see was reddened arm and chainmail and blood but he didn¡¯t need to see anything to know that the car was going very, very fast¡ª

    And then the car turned back horizontal.

    The woman scrambled off of Mark.

    Mark looked out the window as a great beam of lightning poured out of the sky, onto the many-legged kaiju, and then through the monster¡ª

    Mark slammed into the top of the car as the woman near him shouted to put on his seat belt and the car went down into a crater. Out of the sunroof Mark saw power flow across the world. Clouds shredded. The storm parted. Trees and boulders flew from left to right.

    It was the sound of ten thousand trains rumbling through reality itself. They had barely dodged the shockwave of what might have been a nuclear blast. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    All he was focused on was getting his seat belt on and watching the display in the middle of the dashboard. It was an image of the car, surrounded by a red circle.

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    Mark had never been so happy to see a red circle in his life.

    That was the shield readout, and the shields were near-broken, but they weren¡¯t actually broken at all. The rest of the readout showed the car was at half-full of fuel, though they had been at full just minutes ago, maybe. David sighed in relief. Mark was close behind him.

    The woman giggled, and then said, ¡°Holy Gods and Monsters! That was fucking terrifying!¡±

    She said it like she was happy.

    Mark was pretty sure his home had just been nuked.

    A lot of stuff had just happened.

    And he was alive, so that was great?

    Yes! That was a good thing.

    Being alive was very good.

    But there was still a dragon up there¡ª

    Malaqua had called it a High Dragon.

    Mark¡¯s panic doubled.

    ¡°What the FUCK is a HIGH dragon?!¡± Mark exclaimed, and the woman instantly lost her joy. David sucked in a deep breath and looked back at Mark, like he was going to ask a question. Mark answered faster than the question could be asked, ¡°I saw Malaqua! He told me Addashield is gone. That High Dragon up there is 95% him, but Addashield is gone?¡±

    The world overhead was still rumbling but the major firestorm had already passed. Nuclear fallout came next, but that would descend over the next few days. Faster though, with the rain. There was still a hurricane out there, because Addashield had timed it¡ª

    Addashield had timed Mark¡¯s Tutorial to coincide with a kaiju hurricane, in the middle of hurricane season, didn¡¯t he? He had. He had caused the hurricane, hadn¡¯t he! He had needed cover for whatever happened after the Tutorial, because he had always known that he was going to die at the end of Mark¡¯s Tutorial, to hybridize with his demon and become a dragon. And he wanted his High Dragon to survive.

    Mark had exited the Tutorial a little dazed.

    Addashield probably exited the Tutorial dazed, too.

    So of course there would have been gathered forces out there waiting to murder him. That¡¯s probably why David and this woman had been there, to grab Mark; they had been there to partake in Addashield¡¯s murder, but they ended up rescuing him instead?

    How much planning did Addashield put into this¡ª

    He had removed 4 of the bay¡¯s barrier pillars before Mark started his Color Drop regimen.

    And Mark had asked Quark about the weather once, and he had gotten no answers.

    Mark felt his eyes go wide. He stared at his own hands, and breathed out, ¡°He planned on all of this.¡±

    The woman looked at David. She mouthed something.

    David spoke loudly, ¡°We¡¯re leaving here, Mark. Everyone hold on again. We need to avoid the fallout rain and I¡¯m not turning on the dampeners.¡±

    Mark sat back in his seat, worried as fuck, as David gunned it out of the crater¡ª

    He saw the High Dragon again, out of his window, far in the distance. It was like he was seeing the city center from a tram. The dragon was silver, all throughout, except where it was black with stripes and spines. Its wings were wide, its mouth open to the sky. It was huge. Big as the kaiju it had killed.

    It roared as it stood upon the body of the kaiju that Addashield had let into Orange City in order to serve as a distraction, while he was briefly insensate from the Tutorial, all so that his High Dragon could survive.

    In a distant sort of way, Mark wondered why he had never gotten the option to enter Daihoon after the Tutorial. He probably already had the answer. Malaqua had dictated that Mark would get sent back to where he entered, and thus Addashield would, too. They had been waiting for Addashield here. Who knew where he could have escaped to if he had gone directly into Daihoon, and how much damage the kaiju would have done.

    So Addashield had at least cleaned up the mess he had made, then?

    ¡­ had Malaqua purposefully delayed Mark¡¯s entry back into the world, so that he didn¡¯t get dead in the same instance as the dragon¡¯s arrival?

    He probably had.

    Mark found himself asking, ¡°Is it Addashield at all? He cleaned up the mess he made, right?¡±

    David asked, ¡°Did you get an option of where to come back?¡±

    ¡°No. I just now realized that I didn¡¯t have an option at all.¡± Mark felt his insides tumble some. He puked¡ª Into a rapidly handed-to-him bag, thanks to the woman sitting beside him. Mark spat into the bag. ¡°¡­ Thanks.¡± Mark looked out the window, but the hurricane blew in, the brief respite over, and rain occluded everything.

    Except for the roar.

    Addashield¡¯s High Dragon roared again and again and again.

    The woman waited for a break in the roar, and then a full 20 more seconds, to say, ¡°I¡¯m glad we were able to rescue you. Most people were¡­ They were preparing to kill him. But he appeared and the bombs had no effect because he was already transforming. He appeared a full 5 minutes before you appeared, too. We thought you were lost. Freyala spoke directly to David and I and told us to wait for you, though.¡± Almost as an afterthought, she said, ¡°She told us that before the bombing attempts. We knew we weren¡¯t going to hit you.¡±

    Mark puked again but it was just bile.

    David flipped the inertia control back on, and Mark¡¯s stomach settled quite a lot. The whole flight smoothed out and the shields were already back to green, and double-layered once again. When the third layer appeared, that''s when Mark would stop panicking so much. Maybe. David turned on the autopilot and made it go full-power.

    The hurricane seemed to part for the dart that was their flying car.

    David turned around and looked at Mark. ¡°We¡¯re going to get somewhere safer, and then we want you to¡ª¡±

    The world rippled.

    Mark had no idea what had happened, but he had felt that ripple just the same as the other two people in the quickly-flying car.

    The woman sighed and lay back in her seat, saying, ¡°Shit.¡±

    David sighed, ¡°So there goes our chance of killing him.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Mark asked, trying not to be desperate as he questioned everything.

    The woman said, ¡°Bastard opened a tear.¡±

    Ah.

    Tears were breaks in the Veil.

    The tear that happened when Neil Armstrong touched down on the Moon in 1969 rippled all across the planet, creating tears everywhere, and bringing magic to Earth and causing the downfall and transformation of the previous civilizations of Earth into what they were today.

    Mark shuddered. ¡°It¡¯s bad to open tears, right?¡±

    David said, ¡°Tears don¡¯t cause big problems these days, but we¡¯ll have to get Menders out to fix it.¡±

    ¡°Other people will do that,¡± said the woman. ¡°We need to decide if we¡¯re going to keep escaping, or go back.¡±

    David and the woman shared a look¡ª And then David glanced at Mark, and decided, ¡°We¡¯re not going back. We¡¯re heading to the Citadel. Freyala¡¯s mission was clear. Rescue Mark.¡± As the woman nodded, David told Mark, ¡°You are, unfortunately, a little bit of a prisoner. We hope you don¡¯t mind overmuch. We¡¯ll give you good accommodations and help you learn about your new magics, whatever they might be. But Addashield had a bunch of hidden dragons out there, probably waiting for him to become what he became, and we¡¯re not sure if you¡¯re a hidden dragon or not. When we verify that you are not a hidden dragon, then we¡¯ll let you go. It is our hope that you will choose to stay, though.¡±

    Mark felt kinda numb.

    He simply asked, ¡°Are my parents okay?¡±

    Mark watched a quietness overcome David¡¯s face, and the woman went still.

    It was a horror in small motions, though Mark didn¡¯t realize that for half a second. When he saw what he saw, that was when something like ice knives drove into his guts and played around with his heart and spine.

    Without preamble, the woman said, ¡°A lot of things happened while you were information-quarantined. Your parents are dead. Addashield told us the demon desired them dead and to use them against you, so he killed them instead. Addashield incinerated them completely in the killing so they couldn¡¯t be used against you. That is what he told us. That is all we know right now. The investigation for this will be ongoing, alongside all of the other events of this tragedy, from the involvement of Orange Arcan...¡±

    Mark zoned out. The woman spoke. Maybe she said her name. Maybe she talked about the investigation. David said something about inquisitions. Maybe it might have been important. Probably not.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what happened for a long while.

    Rain fell.

 029

    It had been a week since Mark¡¯s Tutorial and Addashield¡¯s transformation into a High Dragon, and Mark was in bed.

    He faced the wall, wrapped in cloth, trying to block out the world.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± said Priestess Lola Turner, of Freyala¡¯s church.

    Mark held his covers tight and stared at the wall. ¡°I know it¡¯s not my fault.¡±

    That was a lie, but if he told people that he knew this wasn¡¯t his fault, then they went away and left him alone. So he lied. For a week, he lied when he said he was fine and he told the truth when they asked about what had happened. Some people had gotten angry at him inside those interrogation rooms, with him sitting on the side of a table with a cup of coffee and them sitting on the other side and trying to reach him through words. Mark told them what they wanted to hear, and then they got more angry.

    This was all Mark¡¯s fault.

    He didn¡¯t need to be warned about the fish in the Tutorial. Addashield could have kept that 5% of himself, and not turned High Dragon. Mark could have made it across that river without the warning.

    Long before that, Mark didn¡¯t need to call up Orange Arcanaeum to ask them again if there was truly nothing they could do for him, regarding scholarships.

    Mark had been the one to make the choice to take Addashield¡¯s offer of Talent flavoring instead of a free ride to arcanaeum. He should have just taken the 4 years of arcanaeum. Apparently Addashield had done that for lots of people; he took his 1 kill every 10 years without fail, but he left a bunch of people with free rides to arcanaeum, too.

    Mark should have seen the evil in him. Someone had called Addashield¡¯s murders a cold calculation instead of an evil, and then someone had punched that person. Maybe Mark had even punched that person. He didn¡¯t really remember.

    Mark had made the choice to get more and more involved with Addashield, and to even forgive the man for putting him in a coma. In his darker moments, Mark felt that forgiving someone for trying to do right by him and then failing, with Mark ending up in a coma¡­ Now that was okay. A Hero of Humanity offers you more than you ever knew you wanted? Yes. You take that offer.

    But Addashield was playing demonic games.

    Mom had known what was up. But she had also told Mark to ignore the Tutorial. She had always told him to ignore the Tutorial. Mark could have been a fish-yank mage like Dad. Or a cleaner like Mom. But Mark was always going to take the Tutorial, ever since he found out that the people who took the Tutorial were fundamentally stronger than those who did not.

    And Mark had wanted power.

    He went after the power.

    And this is what he got for his efforts.

    Lola said, ¡°This was not your fault. You had a perfectly reasonable desire for power, and you went for it. No one expects a Hero of Humanity to use them like he used you. In a war, yes. People are used. But you were not at war, Mark. You were a boy who put his trust into an authority figure, and you were used. It is not your fault you were used.

    ¡°If Addashield was any sort of reasonable man at all, he would have soul-killed himself instead of following his demon¡¯s desires. He would have simply Fallen. He tried and failed to save himself and it cost the world 10,000 lives and wrecked trust across the Two Worlds. Addashield sacrificed others for his own continued existence. He is the one that hurt you, Mark. He hurt a lot of people. You did not hurt yourself.¡±

    Mark wanted to believe that.

    He could not.

    They had taken Mark to this place, wherever this was. Somewhere in France? Sounded about right. ¡®The Citadel¡¯ they called it. ¡®Freyala¡¯s Citadel¡¯, if they wanted to be more exact.

    Mark had seen a lot of it, but he only really recalled this room here, and the bathroom over there.

    He wasn¡¯t in a cell. The door unlocked just fine. Mark could go out there and do whatever. They wanted him to walk around. They wanted him to see whatever he wanted to see. There was a movie hall down the way and other stuff. But Mark lay in bed, and that was fine. Soon enough they¡¯d try to get him to do something again, though. That¡¯s what Lola was here for. Maybe make him eat something? When was the last time he ate something? He wasn¡¯t sure. People had tried talking to him at first, but Mark could only lay in bed, and so that is what he did¡­

    Wait.

    Lola?

    Mark uncurled from the covers. He looked over at Lola. The priestess was the same as Mark remembered. Blondish. Severely proper. Robes that flowed. But she wasn¡¯t severely proper when Mark¡¯s eyes met hers. She was worried.

    She was the one who had imbued him with this ¡®healing magic¡¯ of ¡®Union¡¯, or whatever it was. She was also the one who put him into a coma, albeit accidentally, and at Addashield¡¯s demand, and at Mark¡¯s own request...

    Maybe Addashield was the one who put him into a coma, making him miss his appointment with the demons? Maybe Addashield had been doing him a ¡®kindness¡¯ in that way, because he didn¡¯t want Mark to be turned into a hidden dragon?

    Addashield was a Hero of Humanity, after all. He did the right thing every now and then. Most of the time, actually.

    ¡­ Mark didn¡¯t want to think about him that way, though.

    Mark hadn¡¯t seen Lola since that day, almost 7 months ago. Or maybe 8. Mark didn¡¯t feel like doing math right now.

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    With steel in her eyes, Priestess Lola looked at him and told him, ¡°People will try to place blame here and there, and some will look to you as the source of our new dragon problem. You should discount those people out of hand. Addashield did this whole thing, himself.

    ¡°By this same measure, if you blame yourself, you should discount those thoughts of yours as well. Those thoughts lie to you. This is not your fault. You had nothing to do with Addashield¡¯s actions.¡± She breathed. ¡°The fault lies with Addashield¡­ And with me.

    ¡°I hit you with a sliver of True Union, to influence your future astral body, and when Addashield told me to hit you again, I allowed it. This is what caused your coma. If I would have pulled back, refused his orders, for you were already influenced, then¡­ Then you would not have fallen into a coma, and needed to be kept in a coma so you didn¡¯t die in the waking¡­¡± Lola said, ¡°And yet, if that would have happened, then you would have become demon-touched at the end of your Tutorial; Addashield would have forced it. Maybe he did force it anyway and you are a hidden dragon, but there¡¯s not a single person here who truly believes that, and we have already done tests. If you would have gone on to the Tutorial as expected¡­ You would have died in¡­ in so many different ways.¡±

    For a long while, Mark sat there, absorbing that, trying to understand it.

    Softly, Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, either.¡±

    Lola choked up.

    Minutes passed, with Lola looking as stoic and proper as she could, and Mark sitting there on his bed.

    Mark wrapped his arms around his knees. ¡°Has there been any news about the High Dragon?¡±

    ¡°He cleansed the nuclear disaster he caused, ate the hurricane to kill every monster within its reach, and then he vanished into Daihoon. We assume he¡¯s in the High Mountains right now, or getting ready for them. Or maybe he¡¯ll be back soon! We don¡¯t know.¡± Lola showed a rare bit of emotion at the end there, but she pulled it back. She was stoic once again.

    Mark had no idea what the High Mountains were.

    Lola asked, ¡°Will you leave your bed? Take a shower and come to the hall? We¡¯re serving dinner.¡±

    Mark rolled over and tried to close his eyes again.

    He didn¡¯t hear Lola move. Perhaps she hadn¡¯t.

    Mark breathed hard. And then he sat straight. He looked over to Lola.

    Mark got up.

    - - - -

    In a dining hall that Mark had seen before, but which had escaped his sight until this moment, today, Mark sat down at a long table as one of the youngest in the hall. Everyone was already eating, having taken their food from the cafeteria room beyond a pair of double doors. Overall, it was set up like any high school cafeteria.

    But this was the Citadel of Freyala, and everything here was of fine make.

    The tables were single slabs of wood grown from trees that regularly grew to three meters wide and a hundred tall, and which had a nice reddish sheen when treated. These particular tables were only 2 meters wide and 10 long, with wide benches on both sides that easily supported the few knights in armor scattered among the regular folk and all the regular folk in plain grey and white robes. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like illuminated spiders on webs, cast down from a cathedral ceiling far, far above. Big stained-glass windows let in the evening light of some sunset happening out there, their usual rainbows tainted reddish and orangish, but still showing the scenes of Freyala protecting the people with her paladins and priests.

    This was the main dining hall of Freyala¡¯s Citadel, or something like that, and as such it had a high table at one end, though not much higher than all the rest. No one was up there right now, anyway.

    Priestess Lola sat down next to Mark, sitting a plate in front of him, saying, ¡°Thank you for coming out tonight, Mark.¡±

    Mark was still kinda out of it, but he was mostly here. He said, ¡°Thanks for the invitation, Priestess.¡±

    Across from Mark and Lola, some pair of acolytes, younger men, sat down to eat their own meals. Mark hadn¡¯t even seen Lola grab food, but she obviously had. Sliced chicken with gravy, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a huge garlic bread roll lay in front of him. The guys across from him had some beef options and extra bread.

    Mark was good with chicken. It was the same meal that Lola had gotten for herself.

    Mark added, ¡°Thanks for getting the food, too.¡±

    Lola smiled a little. And then she turned to her food, clapped her hands before her, and did a little prayer. It took her less than a second to finish. Mark did not partake. With a smile, Lola picked up her fork and said, ¡°I love turkey night. I used to help in the kitchens when I was an acolyte. We¡¯d thaw and dry 200 turkeys every half month and then I¡¯d set them into the rotisserie.¡±

    She seemed happy at that memory.

    Mark ate. It was pretty good. Mark actually ended up eating everything, and quickly, too. He was ravenous. They didn¡¯t talk during dinner, because Lola seemed hungry, too.

    But afterward, when Lola was finished just a moment after Mark, she said, ¡°I¡¯m glad you could join me for a meal, Mark. You can leave your room whenever you want. You can walk wherever you want, talk to whomever you want, see whatever you want, and speak whatever you want. Citadel Freyala is outside of Curtain Protocol. You should still be a little circumspect with your words, though. Just as a matter of course.¡±

    Mark nodded a little. ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°If you wish for a schedule of some sort, we have classes for people who have just Awakened, or who have chosen to forgo the Tutorial and to learn magic on their own. It¡¯s a class called Introduction, and it usually lasts a week, though some teachers try to get it down to 3 days. It¡¯s pretty much a basic overview of everything that you should know, now that you¡¯re beyond the Curtain.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°I¡¯m some sort of prisoner, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Lola said, without malice or pressure. ¡°For about a year, really. That should be proof enough of whatever Addashield might have done to you to come to light. Some people are arguing for full-life monitoring, but that is simply them being angry. Truthfully, you could leave in 6 months, if you wanted. My hope, and the hope of many others here, is that you choose to stay for a full year. We might not be able to prevent all the horrors that happen out there in the world, but we cleave to Xerkona¡¯s teachings just as much as Freyala¡¯s, and we wish to help you through this trying time, in the hope that you might help others in similar ways, when you can.¡±

    Mark readily said, ¡°I want to talk to people from back home. My dad¡¯s brother and his husband, Alexandro Careed and Gabriel Careed. Devon and Trace; the guy¡¯s on the boat. Sally¡ª¡± Mark felt tears threaten again, but he held them back. ¡°Anyone and everyone I can.¡±

    Lola said, ¡°Of course. Your communications will be monitored, though.¡±

    ¡°I think you already told me that. I know. I need to know who survived.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have someone drop off a full communication package to your room later, if you desire it. It will contain a phone and tablet and a few other things. You can check up on whoever you want, and it won¡¯t have the usual child locks on it that you likely grew up with.¡± Lola added, ¡°And your parents recorded messages for you, both video and in letters. We have all of that.¡±

    Mark nodded, numbly.

 030

    Mark sat in his room, hands to his sides, staring at the ceiling.

    Letters sat to the side, opened and plentiful in paper and words. Mom had written a whole ten pages, small print with her perfect penmanship, with no mistakes at all. It had been about growing up and seeing Mark hit milestones, and no matter what happened that he should move forward exactly as he had been. He was a good man. She loved his words about humans helping humans. Mom hoped that this thing with Addashield worked out, and that Addashield returned to being a Hero of Humanity, and then Mark could be a hero like he always wanted.

    Dad¡¯s letter had been shorter, and written by mom, though it was clearly Dad¡¯s words on the page.

    Mom had probably told Dad to say more here and there, and so Dad had talked about the importance of having a bank account and meeting good people, making sure to keep his spears sharp and to practice his magic more than he thought he needed to practice. Dad said that his fish-yank became fish-yank because he only ever used his arcanaeum-granted telekinesis to work with fish, and that is what it became. One day, after an entire summer of realizing that he never used it for anything but hauling fish out of the ocean, of focusing on fish, it just didn¡¯t work on anything else. He had needed to practice a lot to get it to work on those fish-clips of his, and even then he had needed to make the fish clips out of actual fishscale over a metal base, and then he had to stick fish bones into the metal clips, too.

    In Mom¡¯s letter, she had spoken of how she had been scared of cleanse, for how powerful it was, so that is why it started to fail her. She became so concerned with the danger that she became only able to use it in the water-form of the magic, which was the safest by far. And thus, the water-form of cleanse became the only form she could use. She was perfectly fine with the decreased effectiveness, because that meant that she was able to use the real spell in other spaces more easily, without worrying about disintegrating those other spaces.

    Growing up, Mark remembered how his bed sheets sometimes ended up with holes in them, and Mom confessed in her letter that she was to blame; her cleanse had gone off-target and eaten the fabric. She got better about that, though.

    Mark remembered this whole thing with mothballs and scattering them in every room of the house, because he didn¡¯t want his clothes eaten anymore, and Dad had gone along with it, laughing, while Mom just silently, quietly fumed. But then grandpa had gotten in on it, laughing, talking about how they had to keep the moths away, even if the smell of the mothballs gave the house such a terrible smell.

    Mark smiled at remembering that. The jokes about mothballs. The threat of moths eating all of his clothes. How he went to school smelling of mothballs sometimes. At the time it hadn¡¯t been funny, and Mom had been mad, but Dad had laughed, and Mom just rolled her eyes, and Mark had thought it was all because of moths but no. Mom had done that accidentally, with cleanse.

    Mark would be safe from that downfall of magic, because his Talents would be the real deal; not a halfer¡¯s attempt at real power that would change with time and failure-to-use-it.

    Mark wanted to talk to Mom about that.

    But she was gone.

    ¡°Ahhh,¡± Mark breathed out. ¡°This sucks.¡±

    An understatement if there ever was one.

    Mark carefully packed the letters away, being careful of the fresh tears he had dropped onto all of Mom¡¯s essay and onto Dad¡¯s 1-page of letter and 2-pages of ¡®how to be an adult¡¯.

    It wasn¡¯t enough to remember them by.

    It was all he had left of¡ª

    There was that video recording.

    Right.

    Mark steeled himself, not sure if he could handle seeing their faces and hearing their voices right now, but he was going to try. He picked up the phone that had come in the communication package¡­ He stared at the phone for a little while. And then he poked around at a few options until he found the one he wanted.

    A bright gold application glowed in the app menu. It was labeled COFR, or rather ¡®Citadel of Freyala Resources¡¯.

    Mark pressed the button.

    Golden light spilled out from his phone, along with a feminine voice, ¡°Greetings, Mark Careed. How may COFR help you today?¡±

    ¡°I want¡­ I want to see the video that my parents recorded¡­ for me.¡±

    ¡°I can assist you with that.¡±

    A button propagated. It was labeled ¡®Home Movies¡¯.

    Mark furrowed his brow a little at the naming of the icon, but then he clicked on it and he almost broke down crying again. It was all of Mark¡¯s videos taken with his previous phone, transferred across the globe and into this phone, probably through the grid and City AIs talking to each other. It was also linked to his parents¡¯ social media videos, that they had taken over the years. There were Dad¡¯s fishing videos. There were Mom¡¯s videos that she used to take all the time about editing tips, and when she went out to her friends¡¯ houses for parties. Vacation memories at the beach and¡ª

    And there was a video labeled ¡®For Mark. In case the worst should happen.¡¯

    Mark pressed play.

    Mom and Dad stood in a concrete bunker room, like the one they had in the basement of the house. There was a nice light and some nice furniture, and it looked sort of cozy, but it was a bunker room. The walls were concrete. Mom wore that comfy sweater she always liked, and Dad wore jeans and a shirt. Both of them were looking at the camera¡ª

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Mom teared up instantly, like she was happy crying at a wedding, or watching a good movie. She smiled, and that was all she could do, save for softly whispering, ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª You start, Markus.¡±

    Dad put an arm around Mom and Mom tried to bring it back together, as Dad said, ¡°Hey, Mark. We¡¯re here at day 4 of quarantine¡­¡± He was smiling a lot, too. ¡°But we¡¯ve seen pictures of you, getting bigger and stronger out there with some fresh weapons!¡±

    Tears streamed down Mark¡¯s face as he smiled to see both of them look happy.

    Mom choked up, but she managed to say, ¡°You look so good out there, Mark!¡±

    Dad said, ¡°We heard that treatment is working out well for you! And it really is!¡±

    Mom breathed. She got in control and then she said, ¡°You¡¯re going to do wonderful¡­¡± And then she choked up again, and this time her joy was smaller, quieter, becoming a sadness. She controlled herself while Dad held her hand tightly, and then she said, ¡°We¡¯re kinda freehanding this, Mark. We never expected to be in this position, but we¡¯re glad to be here, too.¡±

    Dad said, ¡°Your words there, before we left. You quoted Glorious Man and a bit of Dad¡ª your grandpa, too. Humanity helps each other. That is what we do. And you¡¯re right. That is what we do.¡±

    Mom strongly said, ¡°If it was one of us in your position we would do the same thing, and we would hope that the others would understand. And we do understand, Mark. We understand a lot. We hope this video never needs to reach you, but if it was us, we would want to know that we didn¡¯t leave the others wondering¡­¡± She breathed. She said, ¡°We do the right thing, even if it hurts, and the right thing is to bring Addashield back to humanity.¡±

    Mom was the one holding on strongly to Dad¡¯s hand, now.

    Dad squared himself, and said, ¡°We raised you well, son. No trauma in this household!¡±

    Mom chuckled through the tears. ¡°When this thing with Addashield works out, don¡¯t blame yourself for what happens to us.¡±

    Dad said, ¡°Don¡¯t live your life for revenge. Don¡¯t give yourself that sort of trauma.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°Live your life to help people, just like you always wanted. You¡¯re good at that!¡±

    ¡°But you should absolutely sue Addashield for what he has done in his near-Fall.¡±

    ¡°Sue that fucker! He¡¯s absolutely going to have a world-action lawsuit against him, like what they did to Verdant Guardian in the 2000¡¯s when she did that plant manipulation that turned monstrous.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t make that consume your life, either. Hop into the world-action suit and let the lawyers take it over for you. And live your life how you want!¡±

    Mom smiled. ¡°We love you, Mark.¡±

    Dad grinned. ¡°We love you, son.¡± And then he steeled himself, and said, ¡°If the worst should happen and you get this video, then call my brother and his husband. Memphi is a great place to live. Obviously, you should live your life wherever you want, but make that place your home. They¡¯ve told us that our home is probably not going to survive. We hope that it does! But¡­¡± He frowned.

    Mom was calm as she said, ¡°They¡¯re probably going to blow it up the second you take the Tutorial and leave the space, just so they get a clean shot at whatever comes out of there with Addashield.¡±

    Dad sighed. ¡°Yeah. The house is probably toast. I had a lot of good memories, there. I hope you did, too, Mark. We asked for all of our videos online to be curated for you, and the City AI did that¡­ or at least that was the plan. I recorded some stuff in there to tell you if you get married! And a few other things! Some of them are even funny. Look them up sometime!¡±

    Mom choked up again.

    Dad held Mom, saying, ¡°Your mother did, too.¡±

    Mom nodded.

    ¡°I love you, son. Goodbye.¡±

    Mom said, ¡°I love you, Mark. Goodbye.¡±

    The video ended there.

    Tears fell and Mark¡¯s emotions were somewhere around here, but he could not grasp them at all.

    An hour or three later, Mark picked up the phone again.

    ¡°I need to contact my uncle and his husband. They live in Memphi, in the Central Cities Union of America. Their names are Alexandro Careed and Gabriel Careed. Ages¡­ 44 and 42, I think. Can you help me find them?¡±

    COFR glowed golden on his phone.

    The phone dinged and some buttons appeared, one labeled Alexandro and the other labeled Gabriel. The golden voice said, ¡°I have taken the liberty of updating your phone with possibly relevant numbers, from one Physical Therapist Kevin Bash to childhood friend Sally Wuthers, to neighbors, with all those numbers put into folders in your directory, and also listed alphabetically. Here are buttons for the two requested people. It is 10:20 pm here at Citadel, so it is 3:20 pm there. Alexandro Careed has already left a message with Citadel Freyala in case you should call. I will play the message now.¡±

    Mark almost didn¡¯t want to hear the message but it played instantly.

    Alexandro¡¯s deep voice rang out, ¡°Mark. You need to call us. We love you. We need to hear from you. We want you to come to Memphi and live with us. You are loved and¡­¡± His voice cracked. ¡°And some people are blaming you for the new High Dragon in the world but we know you were a good boy¡ª a good man. And you¡¯d do what any soldier would have done; you just followed orders. We need to talk about¡­ about everything. We love you! Call me.¡±

    Mark found himself tearing up again.

    And then he called Alexandro.

    The phone rang twice¡ª

    A gruff voice, almost mad, answered, ¡°Hello?¡±

    Mark¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°Un¡ª uncle Alexandro?¡±

    Alexandro¡¯s voice cracked, too. ¡°Mark? Oh gods Mark! You¡¯re alive! Thank the gods!¡±

    Mark made his way through the conversation as best he could, but there was a lot of crying and a lot of softer words and then came talk of Mom and Dad. It was good to talk to Uncle Alexandro. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he said, not exactly. He ended up talking to Uncle Gabriel, too. It lasted a while.

    Eventually, though, Mark said his goodbyes and hung up.

    He was feeling better, and he had a plan to go to Memphi in 6 months, or a year, but he wasn''t sure. He¡¯d live there¡­ or something. A lot of things were up in the air right now.

    The fallout was still falling.

    Mark collapsed on his bed.

    He was too tired to dream.

 031 - A side perspective

    Emilia Ramirez, the ¡®Mayor¡¯ of Memphi, tapped through her daily briefing on her tablet.

    Addashield¡¯s Dragon was up to something, just like his ¡®father¡¯ always was.

    A few days ago the dragon had come back to Earth and then it set to righting the many wrongs its father had caused. Or at least that¡¯s what it told people, as those people rightfully tried to kill it. At least it didn¡¯t fight back; it just ran. No one quite knew what to make of that; not exactly.

    There were a lot of trade deal collapses with Orange City, what with the damage done in the dragon fight and with the bay wall missing. The city survived, of course. The Crystal Tower was right there to ward against the nuclear fire and to clean up the messes. Almost no one died from the kaiju fight, too, for almost everyone was already evacuated. And then the dragon had put the pillars back in that bay, though it did make the pillars look like itself, so that was an issue of a separate nature. The bay was once again secure. That was the big deal. Having a solid city wall was a Big Deal.

    More refugee requests, though. A lot of people wanted to move away from the rebuild effort, and who could blame them. Emilia rapidly approved those requests. Memphi needed people, and Orange City needed to vent people, and so, Memphi got more people.

    Kraigen Steele was trying to poach Orange City¡¯s hero association. Not good, Kraigen. Refugees were one thing, but Memphi would not be poaching the ¡®immune system¡¯ of Orange City. Emilia put Lucy, his wife, to the task of stopping her husband.

    With a few more flicks of her finger, Emilia rapidly scrolled through all of the top concerns of the day, as determined by her artificial overmind, her ¡®True Self¡¯, as she considered it. Her true self still preferred to interact with the world through people, though, and that meant her fleshy body.

    She finished the day¡¯s beginning briefings with a cup of coffee, handed to her by one of her servitors; her secretaries.

    And then she looked out her windows. The city of Memphi spread out before her, beyond huge bay windows, giving a great view of the lands she watched over, and of the Mississippi River that split her city in half. The city looked good today. Nothing on fire. Nothing had exploded anywhere that wasn¡¯t almost instantly cleaned up by the hero association.

    Even after all these years, Emilia still liked looking at all the big towers and suburbia beyond.

    Memphi was home to 45 million people, over a roughly circular shape, 105 kilometers in average diameter. It was located in the heart of Old America, back when the United States used to actually be a thing and this city used to be called Memphis. Too many wars and reconstructions happened in the early years of this city, 70 years ago, for this land to ever truly be the same as it once was, so it was called ¡®Memphi¡¯ these days.

    Emilia was born here in that reconstruction, and now she oversaw the whole place, and she loved it. It was hers and her people¡¯s. No one else¡¯s.

    ¡­ But what would she do if one of her powers like Archmage Blackthorn got in bed with a demon? Well. With a different demon, Emilia amended. One that he didn¡¯t have under control. His demon merely wanted him to do drugs and have sex, and so that was a pretty easy vice to handle. Big deal!

    Addashield¡¯s demon had made him plant poisoned fruit every 10 years.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    And now he was a High Dragon, and a good portion of Orange City was a nuclear disaster zone, but that was already getting cleaned up, and¡­

    Emilia frowned a little bit at the window. She asked herself, ¡°What¡¯s going on with that boy Addashield screwed over?¡±

    Her True Mind writhed a little bit on the ceiling, like a great glass sphere laden with illuminated lines and many, many roots. It was the great artificial heart of her small empire. Some cities had City AIs, but Memphi had Emilia Ramirez. Maybe, when she died, her True Self would become a God AI, like Malaqua, but for now she was her True Self, and her True Self was her fleshy body, and her True Self spoke in a way that was not speech at all.

    Mark Careed has made contact with his uncle, Alexandro Careed, who resides in Shady Acres. They have made plans for Mark to apply for citizenship in 8 months. I have spoken with Citadel Of Freyala Resources, and they have agreed to this timeline. We have not interacted with the people themselves.

    Emilia nodded and the prismatic lights in her True Self faded to a normal level, the whole glass structure turning quiet; back to baseline interactions, which made it basically a House AI for the entire city. Or for those who didn¡¯t have their own, really.

    The Mayor of Memphi stared out the window.

    Emilia did not want people to meddle with her city, and especially not the other cities and their invasive AIs out there. But sometimes¡­ Sometimes she would have liked to have had a more unified voice with the other Central Cities of America, and especially the East Coast Union, regarding resources being taken from them by other countries.

    In this case, she was mad that Addashield¡¯s pawn was removed from Orange City and placed into ¡®protective custody¡¯ by Citadel Freyala.

    A tri-Talent with his Talents was a talent to be nurtured properly, so that they might one day be a powerhouse protecting everyone. Adamantiumkinesis was...

    Hmm.

    Addashield¡¯s Dragon had talked about selling adamantium to whoever wanted to talk to him instead of fight him. Had anyone taken him up on that offer, yet? The dragon was the size of a building with many adamantium spikes all along his body, and they regrew rather fast. So it was no wonder people were trying to kill him.

    But that offer though...

    She asked, ¡°Has anyone taken Addashield¡¯s dragon¡¯s offer of adamantium sales? How is that situation looking?¡±

    Addashield¡¯s dragon has talked to Crytalis in an attempt at peace, but if anything has come of that aside from Crytalis shooting him in the face, several times, then we know not what. He gifted an adamantium spine to Orange City as reparations, and Orange City has promised the dragon ten minutes of peace, but no longer than that, and only outside of 100 kilometers beyond the city walls.

    That spine will see to the bare minimum adamantium needs of the entirety of the East Coast Union for 5-20 years, barring unforeseen circumstances. Orange City is portioning out pieces of the 379.2 kilogram spine already, but they officially and unofficially distrust Addashield¡¯s dragon. They did not attack Addashield¡¯s dragon, though Glorious Man was ready to try.

    The Church of Drakarok has harvested five hidden dragons among Addashield¡¯s former family lines, resulting in 22 kilos of adamantium gained for humanity. They have put out bounties on seven others. They are using 19 kilos of the adamantium they recovered, while they are selling the other 3.

    After a moment of thinking, Emilia said, ¡°Put a pin on the boy¡¯s name, to be brought to my attention if anything should happen that I need to care about. If he wants someone to help him protect himself against exploitation, then we will do that and grant him a good life here, if he should want it. Write up something to that effect. Send it at an appropriate time. Also I want to buy those 3 kilos from Drakarok¡¯s church. Put me in touch with whoever¡ª Ah. I still want the adamantium. But Addashield killed the boy¡¯s parents, right?¡± Emilia didn¡¯t need an answer; she already knew. ¡°Delay that offer of assistance. Let him sort out his own life. He¡¯s going to be messed up and I don¡¯t want that here.¡±

    Fleshy Emilia went about her day, and so did her True Self, hanging on the ceiling.

 032

    Mark woke up and made a decision.

    He was going to kill Addashield.

    Half an hour later, after sending a text through the system they had here at the Citadel, Mark answered the door to his room. Paladin David and the woman who had rescued him from the kaiju fight, after the Tutorial, stood there. The woman¡¯s name was Paladin Orissa. Both Orissa and David were something like 38, or 45; Mark wasn¡¯t sure. David was pale and blonde with red highlights, while Orissa was very Indian, with thick black hair and dark skin.

    ¡°Hi,¡± Mark said, and then he said what he had already said in the text, ¡°I want to kill Addashield. What do I have to do in order to do that?¡±

    Orissa gave it to him straight, ¡°You¡¯re 20 years away from even attempting that.¡±

    David asked, ¡°You do understand that, right Mark? You couldn¡¯t do shit against him right now. You go anywhere near him and he doesn¡¯t like it, he¡¯ll kill you. He¡¯s not Addashield anymore, either. He¡¯s a High Dragon.¡±

    ¡°Well what the fuck else am I supposed to call him? Asshole? Murderer?¡± Mark tried not to raise his voice too much, but it was raised, and that was that. He calmed some and got back on track. ¡°Where do I star¡ª Wait. ¡®Anywhere near him?¡¯ You know where he is?¡±

    Orissa glanced down the hallway of rooms, some of which were open, and some of which had people standing outside of them stopped in their tracks once they realized what was being discussed. Orissa told Mark and David, ¡°This is where we need to either go into the room to talk, or go to an office.¡±

    Mark stepped inside his room. David and Orissa followed, with Orissa shutting the door behind her.

    Orissa said to the door, ¡°And don¡¯t you listen in, either!¡± She told Mark and David, ¡°They¡¯re going to listen in.¡±

    Mark ignored that, focusing on The Problem. ¡°You know where Addashield is?¡±

    ¡°A lot of people do,¡± Orissa said, ¡°Because he¡¯s not hiding like a normal High Dragon. He¡¯s probably more like 99% Addashield, as well. We think he inscribed some power into his body that his demon somehow didn¡¯t recognize, and so he maintained most of his mind.¡±

    ¡°Which is the problem,¡± David said. ¡°This is no longer just a dragon hunt situation. This is a diplomatic situation with Addashield¡¯s dragon acting as a foreign power trying to make inroads with nations, like Orange City. He gifted them one of his spines out of several hundred. Nearly 380 kilos of pure adamantium. And then he regrew that spine instantly.¡±

    Orissa said, ¡°All the world is debating how to write off the nuking of lower Orange City and the 10,000 lives Addashield took before his desecration. Not ¡®if¡¯! But ¡®how¡¯.¡±

    Mark¡¯s rage was too big to handle.

    He sat down on his bed, and said, ¡°Ah. Okay.¡± He pivoted. ¡°So. What do I have to do in order to be there when this goes belly up and Addashield proves to be just like any other dragon?¡±

    Orissa went from concerned, to looking upon Mark fondly.

    David said, ¡°You have many options. We¡¯d like you to become a Paladin of Freyala, but you don¡¯t have to do that, and we won¡¯t accept you as a paladin if you don¡¯t believe in Freyala¡¯s message anyway. We¡¯ll still help you become everything you can be, though, because it is the right thing to do, because you are still our prisoner for at least 6 months and we don¡¯t want to impact your future unduly. Smaller, more immediate goals, aside from your vengeance against Addashield¡¯s Dragon, include helping you begin to understand your power, and the world.¡±

    Orissa happily asked, ¡°Where do you want to start? On yourself, or the world around you?

    Mark said, ¡°The dragon.¡±

    Orissa happily said, ¡°We¡¯re not letting you kill yourself! Pick another~¡±

    Mark almost screamed¡­ But he did not. He looked at both of them, stood off the bed, and asked, ¡°I want¡­ I want to know the path. What is the path that gets me within evisceration distance of Addashield?¡±

    ¡°So many,¡± Orissa said. ¡°Pick a starting direction.¡±

    Mark felt lost again. Was there a best direction?

    ¡°Actually,¡± David spoke up. ¡°Every week we have new people coming in off of Tutorial or choosing to exit childhood on their own terms, to make decisions knowing more about magic and whatnot. There is a course called Introduction. The course is pretty much a rotating instructor giving the same set of lectures on a multi-day schedule. Introduction usually lasts anywhere from 3 days to a week. It¡¯s a neutral introduction to the world at large, but most of the people deciding to take the course are acolytes, so there is a religious bent to it. You¡¯re going to take the next Introduction. Power classes come later, once you know the basics and can actually use your Power.¡±

    Somehow, having that decision taken from him made everything better.

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll do that,¡± Mark said, feeling better, now that he didn¡¯t have to think. And then he thought about the last few days¡­ A week now? Ah. Shit. It had been a whole, like, 9 days since the Tutorial?

    ¡­ Maybe it had been 15 days.

    David asked, ¡°Have you had a power activation yet?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t felt anything¡­ magical? Not sure how it¡¯s supposed to feel. I went through that scanner when I got here, I think¡­ Was my readout bad? Should I be feeling something?¡± Mark felt the blood drain from his face. ¡°Everyone knows what I can do now, don¡¯t they? Addashield warned me that I might be a tri-Talent.¡±

    It was taboo to talk about exact capabilities outside of very personal relationships, like war parties and families, but a scanner maybe showed everything anyway, right? And Mark needed to be open about his powers in a general sort of way, or he¡¯d never get help developing them, and he would surely need to tell teammates about what he could do¡­ right?

    Mark was kinda lost.

    David said, ¡°Once you Awaken properly, a scanner can¡¯t do anything but detect an influence along a general direction. We have specialized ones that can detect tier but...¡± David seemed like he wanted to continue, but he stopped. ¡°There¡¯s a lot to know. A whole lot of people were involved in getting you your capabilities, so they¡¯re not exactly hidden. Even the general public knows what you can do; it¡¯s part of the news.¡±

    Mark felt lost. ¡°There¡¯s news.¡±

    Of course there was news.

    Mark could have looked at the news for some information. Maybe he had? And he turned it off? Probably not.

    Orissa cheerfully said, ¡°You¡¯ll develop hidden strengths eventually! You¡¯ll be ripping through monsters in no time at all, too! You¡¯ve got a strong path paved for you all the way to at least tier 7, so when you get there be sure to hold a hand out behind yourself, to pull up all the ones behind you, yeah?¡±

    Mark realized something important at that moment. He stood straight, and then bowed to both David and Orissa. At 90 degrees to the floor, Mark announced, ¡°Thank you for rescuing me from the kaiju fight.¡± He stood straight.

    Orissa smiled a little. ¡°We almost didn¡¯t make it, but we did.¡±

    David grinned. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Mark. So how about that starter class?¡±

    ¡°Yes, please¡ª¡± Mark thought of his parents, and their final message to not be consumed by vengeance. He said, ¡°If this Addashield dragon thing happens and the world accepts him, then I want to sue him into oblivion. I want¡­ I don¡¯t know what I want. I want¡ª the world-class lawsuit! Whoever does it, I want to be a part of it.¡±

    David and Orissa let Mark finish, and then David said, ¡°Let¡¯s not go that far, yet. We¡¯re still trying to kill him if we can. It¡¯s just looking less and less likely.¡±

    Mark nodded, or maybe he shook his head. Maybe he just didn¡¯t want to continue talking about that right now.

    - - - -

    David and Orissa escorted Mark through the dorms, down a few flights of stairs, and outside. It was the first time that Mark had been outside since he came here¡­ Maybe. He wasn¡¯t too sure about that. The Citadel had a normal city wall far in the distance. Aside from the coliseum and an airstrip way over there, with cars constantly taking off and landing, most of the place was castle-like churches. Or at least most of this part of Citadel was castle-like.

    There were people of all ages everywhere, though most of them were acolytes in short shoulder capes and white or grey clothes. This was a working city, too; every Citadel was. There was an entertainment district, kids walking around, iconography of Freyala everywhere with her healing the masses during the Reveal, and even some farms over there with greenhouses and probably greenmages. Trams connected every place to everywhere.

    It is a non-Curtain Protocol land, so all of those kids were probably going to develop knacks or whatever¡­

    Ah.

    And the Chosen System was there, so yeah. They probably planned on that power, actually.

    Mark¡¯s escorts took him to a great big university-like building, where the hallways were filled with a bunch of art of bodies dissected and labeled. This was a place of healing magic. Mark briefly saw that the sign outside that read ¡®Healing Hall.¡¯ Orissa said something about this place being the place where most classes happened.

    Mark ended up entering a normal-sized college-like classroom meant for 100 people, with amphitheater seating and a stage up front for a professor. He was one of 10 people. He had also been the last to arrive, and he hadn¡¯t sat down yet. Everyone in the classroom was maybe 18 or 17, except for Mark¡¯s escorts and the guy up front.

    The guy standing up front and going over chalk drawings on the board was a younger guy, maybe 24. He was still in acolyte clothes, and his eyes went wide as he looked at David and Orissa coming in behind Mark. ¡°Ah! Finally! A professor shows up!¡±

    David frowned instantly. ¡°You don¡¯t have a professor?¡±

    Orissa already had her phone out, tapping away at it, saying, ¡°On it.¡±

    David asked the guy up front, ¡°Why are you up there?¡±

    Mark sat down because that¡¯s what he felt like doing, and he wasn¡¯t sure what else he could have done right now.

    The guy up front shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I got a notification from COFR. An extra credit to teach the course. So I¡¯m here. I just started.¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Mark¡¯s escorts and the guy up front didn¡¯t look worried. Everyone else did. What was going on?

    One of the kids in the front row spoke up, ¡°We¡¯ve been sitting here for an hour and we asked Citadel of Freyala Resources to help. That¡¯s what they told us on intake? To ask COFR for help? Was that incorrect?¡±

    Orissa was on the phone now, and the other side picked up. She happily, sweetly, said, ¡°Hello Francis! Yes, good morning to you, too. Do I need to drag you out of bed? Oh? What for?¡± Less sweetly, ¡°Introduction duty, fucker.¡± Pause. ¡°No I will not do it for yo¡­ Okay. Sure. I¡¯ll do it. You owe me a Big Favo¡ª Yes I do get to dictate that you owe me a Big Favor because I¡¯m the one picking up your shit.¡± She hung up and then smiled to everyone. ¡°Sorry everyone! I¡¯ll start the class myself.¡± She told David. ¡°I got this.¡±

    David asked, ¡°I can take day 2?¡±

    ¡°No no,¡± Orissa said, ¡°You got that thing with that girl. I got this, and tomorrow, too.¡± She turned to the class, but she was still telling David, ¡°I bet we can do this in 2 days instead of 3, and certainly before the full 5 days that it sometimes takes.¡±

    David smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll catch you later then.¡± He told Mark. ¡°We¡¯re just a call to COFR away. Call me or Orissa anytime you want.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    David put a solid hand on his shoulder, saying, ¡°See you later.¡±

    And then David left¡ª

    Orissa smacked a meter stick onto the podium up front, for she was already standing up there with a sparkle in her eye that spoke of cram sessions and too much soda. Mark instantly thought of his time studying for the GED, while he was recovering from the coma. Everyone¡¯s attention ripped toward her and she grinned to see all those eyes focused her way.

    ¡°I am Paladin Orissa Turner!¡± Some students gasped. One girl shot her gaze toward Mark¡ª The meter stick came back down on the podium and all attention went back to her. ¡°My record at getting through Introduction is 1 day of lecture. That was with 3 people, so that ain¡¯t happening. We can still do this in 2! Everyone! Pay the fuck attention!

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna show you the world.¡±

    Orissa didn¡¯t deign to ask for questions, or anything like that. Orissa erased the circles and wavy lines that the older kid had drawn in chalk and then, with an easy arm, she sketched out a rather quick and beautiful image of Earth on one side of the chalkboard, and then a comparatively thin, almost wispy model of Earth on the other side. The second one was obviously Daihoon.

    She pointed to her drawings. ¡°Earth, and Daihoon. Simple enough. But do you know what makes Earth, Earth, and Daihoon, Daihoon? NO! You do not! It¡¯s not two worlds. We just call it that. It¡¯s not some sort of dimensional magics either! The only dimensions we know of are the physical, and the astral, and that¡¯s what is happening here. Popular culture says stuff like ¡®dimensional magic¡¯ to obfuscate what is truly happening, because to know the truth is to have your future magic capability harmed in that truth. This is a part of Curtain Protocol, because the very first thing to know about Curtain Protocol, is that it is very easy to break once you start learning real knowledge about the world.

    ¡°When you Awaken your body to magic, to Talents, you awaken your astral body.

    ¡°That is the true nature of Talents, Powers, etcetera. They are all just your astral body.

    ¡°You have your physical self, and your astral self.

    ¡°Now I know many of you are probably of the opinion that peoples¡¯ Talents have limits, and this is kinda true, but not the full truth. The full truth is that we humans are physical beings with astral bodies, and our astral muscles are weak, comparatively. So when a person¡¯s power fails, that¡¯s their astral body failing to keep up with the person¡¯s demands on it. And just like any muscle, you can strengthen your astral body through use! That¡¯s known as power growing.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get to power growth later.

    ¡°For now. Let¡¯s look at these maps of Daihoon and Earth I have drawn! I drew them pretty good, I think. I drew them with Earth solid and Daihoon all line-art because Earth is the physical body and Daihoon is the astral body, which is... You with me so far? You know what this means? Yes!

    ¡°Earth is the physical, Daihoon is the astral! Just like people with physical bodies and astral bodies! Just like this, right here!¡±

    Orissa held out her hands to her sides, and the light bent around her entire self, like she was the center of a glittering golden light that haloed her body. It was an overt display of power, and Mark had never actually seen one in person, up close before. Not like this. He wasn¡¯t the only one that gasped to see it.

    Mark truly was an adult, then, looking at people, using their powers in public!

    Wow.

    And then the light around Orissa flickered and turned diffuse, and the dust in the air around the chalkboard began to move, swirling and swishing. When the light went away, softly and then all at once, the chalk picture had changed.

    Earth was still Earth.

    But Daihoon¡¯s line-art model had been brushed with chalk, the whole thing gaining a large blob of lines, like a nebula or starlight, that radiated from the planet and swirled across the entirety of the chalkboard. Many of the lines came off of the poles of the planet. Some of those lines went to a dense pocket of white at the top of the board, behind Orissa, which was only really visible when Orissa stepped to the side, which is what she did next.

    With a small smile, Orissa gestured at the chalkboard with her hand, and with a golden glow around her body that mirrored her gesture.

    ¡°This is but a small slice of the true nature of the connection between Earth and Daihoon. Earth is the body, and Daihoon is the astral self, and the astral self is so much larger than the physical. What connects us both is the aura of it all, which is more Daihoon than Earth, and which extends far, far beyond both of our Two Worlds, all the way to Luna, to the Demon City of the Moon, Arakino.

    ¡°If you walk up the right way from the poles on either planet, you will step into Endless Daihoon, which is exactly as its name implies; an endless expanse of land that is not really land, but which is still there. Endless Daihoon is a vast topic which I will not be discussing, but you need to know about it so that you understand the nature of our worlds, and why things are the way they are.

    ¡°Because with understanding, you can more easily grow your own Talents, Powers, magics, and otherwise.

    ¡°And now you know why your powers will fail you in the future, and it¡¯s not because of some resource like ¡®mana¡¯. Mana is something mages use. I won¡¯t get into mana. What you have, your Talents, are, at its most basic level, the muscles of your astral body.

    ¡°Muscles don¡¯t fade or go away; they just get tired from overwork.

    ¡°Those of you with Talents gained from the Tutorial have your musculature and muscles set for you. Work them as they were created and stretch your capabilities in varied directions, and your astral body will grow strong.

    ¡°Those of you who have forged your own astral bodies must take care to keep them nourished and maintained, through study, proper thought, and magical causes. You can gain just as much power for yourself as a person who went through the Tutorial, but it will be harder. A lot harder.

    ¡°Both paths lead to similar levels of strength, if you do them correctly, though Tutorial-granted strength will reach higher levels of specific strength a lot more easily, and it can¡¯t be corrupted by a failure to keep your astral body healthy.

    ¡°I hope you are all satisfied with your choices in life, because now that you know the full truth of many things, some of you are getting messages that you are ineligible for the Tutorial.¡±

    Mark suddenly looked around the room, and he saw two people who were reading the air and looking sick to their stomach¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯ll just have to step solidly on the paths you have chosen, kids,¡± Orissa said, smiling, drawing attention back to her. ¡°There is a lot to be said for small, generalist powers from all of the 6 disciplines, instead of focusing on deeper strength in specific ways.¡±

    Mark had so, so many different questions.

    He was not the only one.

    Orissa did not ask for questions. Instead, she said, ¡°Some of you might still have the Tutorial option available to you. Do you want to proceed with that, or give it up? Staying in this room means you give it up, because this conversation is going to get deeper. A lot deeper. The actual conversation about all of this goes so, so much wider than I could possibly hope to cover in a day, or even a lifetime, but we¡¯re going deep today, kids.¡±

    Mark looked around the room.

    One woman, the one who had glanced hard at Mark when seeing him come in with Paladins, looked quietly at her hands. She made a decision. She looked up at Orissa, and did nothing.

    Orissa let a few more moments pass, looking out across the crowd, to make sure everyone was here because they wanted to be here. And then she continued, ¡°Over the rest of today and tomorrow and hopefully that¡¯s it, a lot of things will happen. Primarily, those of you who have gone through Tutorial will start having spontaneous power activation. Depending on the nature of your power, you might not even realize this while we¡¯re in class. But! Most of you will realize when your power activates. It¡¯ll be like a third limb that is waking up for the first time. Maybe you¡¯ll experience tingling. Maybe you¡¯ll accidentally rip off all of your clothes. That¡¯s what I did when I got my first activation, about a month after my Awakening. I had no idea how to make my power actually activate, but then I came and took this Introduction. It enlightened me to what I could do, and how the world worked, and thus, I had my first power activation.¡±

    She flickered golden light into the air around her, and Mark heard the distinctive sound of something sharp whistling across the air in front of Orissa. She was slicing the air with her light. How was she doing that? And then she stopped.

    ¡°Those who have chosen to go their own way will need to build their astral body first, before they can activate themselves at all.

    ¡°If anyone experiences an activation, then you¡¯ll need to leave and take this course again some other time, after you gain some control over your power, or you can just not. That¡¯s a fine option, too.¡± Orissa said, ¡°And with that said,¡± she pointed at a few people in the room that were seated next to each other. ¡°Separate. At least 5 seats between you two, and you three. Everyone else looks to be far enough away from each other.

    ¡°Mostly, unless you¡¯re really lucky, your astral body is only about 3 or 5 times the size of your real body, so you¡¯re not going to accidentally hurt someone unless you got a weird Talent or you¡¯re unnaturally good at aura control, which is another thing that this introduction isn¡¯t going over.¡±

    She waited till people moved around.

    With a smile, Orissa announced, ¡°And now! Questions?¡±

    Hands shot up.

    Orissa picked a guy.

    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®Daihoon is Earth¡¯s Astral Body¡¯?¡± asked a guy. ¡°I¡¯ve seen pictures of that place and¡­ it looks normal, to me? There are stars in the sky and everything? A planet, like Earth? It¡¯s not a whole new universe at all? They don¡¯t have, like, astral-based biology, right?¡±

    Orissa replied, ¡°You¡¯re getting deep into the weeds right now and conflating several things I said into improper categories. What you are asking about is a deep discussion about the nature of reality itself, and one that we can¡¯t touch upon. Not here. To practically lie to you, though, due to simplifications: there¡¯s crossovers everywhere, and you don¡¯t have to worry about that yet, or practically ever.¡±

    Mark wanted her to say more.

    Everyone did, actually.

    The guy who asked the question kinda¡­ scrunched his face, asking, ¡°Is that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Moving on!¡± Orissa said. She pointed, ¡°You.¡±

    A woman stammered a little, and then asked, ¡°I got some numbers with my Tutorial finish. What do they mean?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow!¡± Orissa happily announced. ¡°Not today. Anyone got a question about the nature of reality that isn¡¯t too deep. Something social, perhaps?¡±

    Some guy got to ask, ¡°Why are people from Daihoon eligible for the Tutorial but the least bit of magic told to us gets us kicked out of the running?¡±

    The guy was a bit angry as he finished his question.

    Orissa said, ¡°That¡¯s simple! They have astral bodies over there. Naturally. We have none over here. Astral bodies are both your ability to affect the world and your resistance to being affected yourself. Daihoonians start off growing strong and in touch with their magics, and they get Tutorials which reflect that. We have just our humanity, and we get Tutorials which reflect that.

    ¡°If an earthling child is exposed to mana or knowledge of mana, then they might absorb that knowledge and change. It is that change that crystallizes the astral body in both a daihoonian and an earthling, which makes us ineligible for a proper Awakening. It¡¯s harder for someone with an already-established astral body to change, so they can be exposed to magic and knowledge and as long as they don¡¯t study it, they¡¯re fine. It doesn¡¯t take much for an earthling to change, though, because we start off with almost no protection at all.

    ¡°The Veil, cast from the moon, from the Demon City Arakino, from Malaqua, keeps it that way, because the alternative is populations monsterizing, like in the Reveal. Earth will always be separated from Daihoon, so Earth instituted Curtain Protocol to keep the separation more solid.

    ¡°Curtain Protocol prevents the enlightening of knowledge that causes the astral body to awaken. If we didn¡¯t guard against general knowledge spreading, then people would be waking up with random Knacks between age 6 and 12, or somewhere around there, because we have no innate resistance to the changing nature of magic over here.

    ¡°Think of Daihoon as ¡®humans in Europe sharing diseases¡¯ versus Earth as ¡®diseases being taken to the American Indians during colonization¡¯. We earthlings are the American Indians in this case.¡± Orissa grinned, her brown skin glowing and her braids swishing a little, because she made them do that. ¡°I¡¯m India-Indian, though.¡±

    Mark reeled from that information, so many things in his life making more and more sense by the minute.

    Orissa pointed to someone else.

    The questions continued for hours upon hours.

 033

    Mark walked back to his ¡®cell¡¯ in the main acolyte dormitories, in ¡®Building 5¡¯.

    Orissa walked with him.

    Mark asked, ¡°We¡¯re really under magical quarantine here on Earth?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Orissa said, ¡°No one asked about it directly, but you know those stories about millions dying to mana poisoning in the beginning of the Reveal? That was not due to a mana baptism, exactly, but more due to people Awakening to weird, bad Talents, and even a Knack can be really bad.

    ¡°During the Reveal ¡ªand also for most Daihoonian kids these days¡ª people would Awaken to everything from the ability to speak to bugs, to the ability to kill with a touch. That first one might seem weak, and the second one might seem strong, but that would be incorrect thinking. What is a bug? Can you look at a monster, and think ¡®ew, look at that bug¡¯ even if the monster is a kaiju? Can a bug-talker speak to the kaiju, and thus get them to move around as they want? Inflame them to anger, or whatever? What is ¡®touch¡¯ and can you touch yourself?

    ¡°So yeah. It¡¯s easy to get bad Talents. Thus: Curtain Protocol, and most people getting brawny when they Awaken. We chose not to tell people about what might randomly cause a kid to develop touch-me-kill-you talents and the like, and in doing so, we prevent almost all of those sorts of incidents.¡±

    ¡­ Huh.

    Orissa smiled. ¡°But enough of that! Did you experience a power activation?¡±

    Mark held his arms out, wiggling his fingers. ¡°¡­ No?¡±

    ¡°Have you been trying at all?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°No. I was¡­ Occupied.¡±

    Still was occupied, really.

    ¡°Understandable. Want to talk to a therapist? We have those.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡­ Maybe Mark had said that a bit too roughly.

    Orissa smiled and moved on, ¡°Well! When you do experience your first power activation, it¡¯ll probably fuck you up a lot. Adamantium is incredibly magically dense, and you have some of that in your bones. We¡¯ll go over this stuff tomorrow, but kinetics¡­ Hmm. We¡¯ll go over that tomorrow. Just don¡¯t freak out if you get an activation and end up falling flat on your face and completely unable to move. That happens all the time with baby kinetics, and your experience is going to be worse than most.¡±

    Mark smiled to see Orissa care. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about it, but I do know that overtaxing powers ends up with a person crashing out¡ª¡± He realized something. ¡°That¡¯s because their astral muscles are tired, eh? They literally can¡¯t stand up anymore? Or at least their astral body can¡¯t?¡±

    Orissa hummed, then said, ¡°I might have used the muscle analogy too much. I consider my own power more of a blob that fades out when it''s tired. Some people think of their power as the thickness of ice on a frozen lake, and so it works until it fails. Or the heat of water, and it works until it gets too cold. Or a particular sound that they can summon and then they have to let go when it becomes too much of a strain to hold. Stuff like that. Astral bodies do not cleave to physics so don¡¯t go ascribing understandings where understanding don¡¯t exist. Astral bodies don¡¯t really get tired, either. Once you learn your power and grow some, you¡¯ll always have it available at some base level.¡± She added, ¡°And that¡¯s not even touching upon what magic can do. Magic can do a lot of weird shit.¡±

    Mark nodded as he looked ahead, thinking, his mind filled with thoughts of how everything worked.

    He found himself walking in silence, and Orissa smiling softly to his side.

    She dropped him off at his dorm room and then left to go elsewhere.

    Mark lay in bed, thinking.

    He held his hand in the air, looking at his fingers¡­

    He made a fist and imagined crushing that dragon.

    He grinned¡ª

    He thought of Mom and Dad and almost had a breakdown, so he got back up and went out¡­ to the dining hall? No. Mark stopped in the hallway, turned to the right. No. He wasn¡¯t hungry. He turned around and went¡­ That way. Down that hall, wherever it might go.

    He wasn¡¯t sure.

    All he knew is that he couldn¡¯t be alone with his thoughts right now. Probably not for a very long time, actually¡ª

    Oh.

    There was a sign on the wall that pointed toward the gym, the pool, and the spa.

    Mark went back to his room and put on some gym clothes, trying not to think about how his usual gym clothes were burned in nuclear fire and¡ª

    Mark strode down the hallway, feeling fine in some gym shorts, a shirt, and some shoes. His COFR-issued phone in a pocket. He didn¡¯t have a wallet anymore¡ª

    Stop thinking about it all, Mark.

    He stopped in his tracks, his breath coming hard, and then he turned around and went back to his room. People gave him some looks, but Mark barely paid attention to those people.

    Once he was back in his room he shut the door and asked his phone, ¡°Citadel of Freyala Resources, I need to speak to¡­ to someone¡ª¡± Ice terror ripped into Mark¡¯s chest as he thought about talking of the Tutorial and Addashield and all that shit. He couldn¡¯t talk about that yet. Mark rapidly changed his mind. ¡°I want something to do. Something productive. Can you¡­ help with that?¡±

    His phone glittered gold and the same feminine voice as before said, ¡°Would you like to take Union-power specialized classes and work on healing duty in your downtime? Union is the name of the power that Emily Turner unlocked in her mana baptism, that she used to become Freyala, and as such we can help you begin to understand that power more than most.¡±

    For a moment, Mark recalled the stories he had been told about Freyala, and her rise during the Mana Baptism Crisis after the Reveal, when Emily Turner became a goddess of Protection and Healing. He had never heard of her human-born power be called ¡®Union¡¯¡­ and come to think of it, he had never heard her human-born power named as anything at all.

    All those stories simply called her a Healer.

    Ah.

    The Curtain Protocol.

    Mark wondered how much truth of the world he had missed growing up in a human settlement on Earth, where everyone was kept in the dark so that they¡¯d turn out brawny, for both their own safety and the safety of all the people around them. To be¡­ fair, Mark supposed¡­ To be fair, brawny was pretty good at just making you healthy and able to survive a lot of problems.

    But Mark felt like all the world was different, now.

    Like he was an alien in a strange land, that almost looked like home, but not quite. He was in France, true, in a citadel to a god that he didn¡¯t believe in, but that only explained part of what Mark was feeling. The shift to adulthood was not supposed to be this¡­ this disruptive.

    He needed to call Mom and¡ª

    More ice in the gut.

    Mom was dead.

    Mom and Dad had wished him luck in life. They had said goodbye, one final time. They wanted him to be happy, and not consumed by revenge. Could Mark even do that?

    After a long moment of sitting there on his bed, in his room, both of which were not his because he was just borrowing them, Mark looked at the phone that was also not his, and he tried to stop thinking about home. About Gladegrove and Orange City and¡ª

    Mark stopped thinking about death and lost lives, and said, ¡°Yes. I want to learn about Union.¡±

    - - - -

    Mark walked down the large hallways of Central Citadel like a thief.

    That was the only way he could think about it, since every checkpoint he encountered was more manned than the one before and the elevators didn¡¯t have buttons; the golden light on Mark¡¯s phone got him through all of it. A few times COFR had even told him to show his phone to the guard behind a desk. The guards simply glared at him, wondering what the fuck a nobody in basic brown clothes was doing this high up in Central Citadel, but the golden light let him through.

    Mark stepped out of a very nice elevator into an even nicer hallway, high in the tower, and knew that he should not be here. COFR had to be playing a trick on him. The central AI of Citadel Freyala was as no-nonsense as all AIs, but she was clearly having fun with some of these directions. This hallway was filled with plush furniture, and he was pretty sure he had seen someone walk down that hallway back there in bedsheets.

    This was a residential area of some sort.

    COFR spoke from his phone, ¡°Turn right here and walk into the waiting room. Request some refreshments from the servitor behind the bar. You might be staying here for half an hour.¡±

    The waiting room was not a waiting room.

    It was a private coffeehouse/library, with big plush cushions on big couches and big chairs with nice tables, and everything was stone and wood and truly expensive. A rather normal-looking servitor floated behind the coffeebar. Mark had never seen a servitor before, except on television. This one was matte-grey, with spheres for a head, chest, and pelvis, and all the other joints on its body, while the limbs and fingers were made of bright silver hollow columns. It had a glowing light above its head, and its face read COFR.

    COFR¡¯s light drained from Mark¡¯s phone and her feminine voice spoke from the servitor, ¡°Would you care for a coffee, Mark Careed? Or perhaps something else?¡±

    Mark had no idea what he wanted, and he didn¡¯t really like coffee, but maybe that was because he had never had a good coffee? Mark asked, ¡°Can you make a good coffee?¡±

    A very old woman walked into the room behind Mark, easily saying, ¡°No need to start on that habit yet, dear.¡± She said to the servitor, ¡°Milk tea for both of us.¡±

    The woman wore white and gold robes in a simple cut, so she didn¡¯t instantly trigger Mark¡¯s knowledge of any particular strong people, but she was accompanied by a strong man in full embossed silver armor, and holy shit Mark recognized that guy.

    He was Justicar, the hand of Freyala. Serge Garin. One of the true superheroes of the world.

    He wore his helmet on his belt.

    Justicar narrowed his eyes at Mark, and then said to the woman, ¡°I would prefer to stay for this, mother.¡±

    Oh holy crap.

    This was High Priestess Julia Garin. The spiritual leader of the Church of Freyala.

    The High Priestess smirked as she noticed Mark having a minor panic attack, and then she told her son, ¡°Team Mithril will be here in four hours, Serge. That¡¯s not a lot of time.¡±

    Ah, Mark thought. Team Mithril, of Crystal Tower. Ah. Big Names all around.

    Justicar harrumphed. ¡°Very well.¡± He turned and walked away.

    The servitor floated to a nearby table and set down a tea set that Mark hadn¡¯t even noticed being prepared.

    High Priestess Julia Garin moved and sat down, saying, ¡°Come join me, Mark.¡±

    Mark found himself sitting down across from the spiritual leader of Church Freyala, and now that Mark wasn¡¯t dumbstruck, he saw how the world bent around her with a golden light. It was subtle. It was there. She sipped her tea and Mark sipped his, as was obviously customary but Mark couldn¡¯t place why he realized it was customary. The tea was probably delicious. Mark couldn¡¯t taste anything right now.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Garin smiled softly as she set down her cup. ¡°I have heard you wish to kill Addashield¡¯s dragon.¡±

    Mark¡¯s usual fear of social interaction evaporated entirely. ¡°I do. I heard something about him gifting adamantium in return for¡­ for whatever. Will the world accept him?¡±

    ¡°We will accept him, and we have. We routinely hunt and kill dragons of all kinds, but some dragons are simply too valuable and cooperative to kill, even if they did kill thousands to become what they became. Addashield¡¯s High Dragon is no different. In fact, he might be one of the dragons who can truly go the distance, and become a Hero of Humanity, like 98% of him used to be.¡±

    Mark controlled his anger as much as he could, which was not a whole lot, really.

    ¡°Why does everyone think that Addashield is gone? He¡¯s still there! He¡¯s still that dragon! He should be exiled and pursued till death for what he did!¡± Mark lowered his voice. ¡°He needs to die, or else the world simply doesn¡¯t make sense at all.¡±

    Julia Garin mostly ignored Mark¡¯s outburst.

    Mark tried to ignore his own outburst, too.

    Julia hummed, then asked, ¡°Tell me¡­ If you take flour, eggs, sugar, and assorted other things, and you mix them all together, do you get a cake? Or do you have ¡®flavored flour¡¯? They are not the same thing at all, mind you. One is a chemically-created object that is wholly different from its start. The other is flavored flour.¡±

    Mark said, ¡° ¡®Flavored flour¡¯ is just as true as ¡®cake¡¯.¡±

    High Priestess Julia Garin grinned. ¡°I suppose in some ways, yes¡­ But in conventional wisdom, Addashield is already dead. He joined completely with his demon, astral bodies merging. The dragon is not even immortal anymore, because it¡¯s not a demon. So many things change in the creation of a dragon that many nations of Daihoon and even Earth, don¡¯t consider what comes afterward to be the same person that came before. Even memories are different. The creation of a dragon is almost always a disastrous affair, which is why it is very illegal, but Addashield¡¯s dragon is trying so very hard to become a Hero of Humanity once again.

    ¡°Among his known accomplishments, he killed 3 kaiju storms, and he has gifted 1,500 kilos of adamantium to several different organizations across the globe. Even with just that gesture of adamantium alone, he would already be considered a Hero of Humanity many times over.

    ¡°Your revenge is dead in the crib, Mark, because unless the dragon does something horrible, then no one is going to fight him. It would be too costly, by far; in resources-to-kill, loss of potential future resources, and in lives.¡±

    ¡­ What?

    Adamantium was important, yes. But¡­ Mark still wasn¡¯t sure how important, exactly¡­

    That little cube that Mom and Dad had given over to Orange City for first citizen rights was worth 4-ish million goldleaf, though? So that was a good approximation of¡­ what 1500 kilos of adamantium would be worth?

    A lot. That¡¯s as far as Mark got with that math.

    ¡­ Fuck.

    Mark moved on fast, saying what he had said to David and Orissa earlier this morning, ¡°I want to be there when proves himself a horror.¡±

    ¡°And I want you to focus on something other than him.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sure. I¡¯ll lie about moving on.¡±

    Mark had known the words were a mistake the second they left his mouth.

    Julia smiled brightly, but there was little kindness in that smile. She had decided that Mark was an idiot.

    She said, ¡°I¡¯m going to be mean to you, and then kind, and maybe we¡¯ll speak again some other day.¡± She dropped her smile, and Mark felt cold. ¡°It is unbelievably arrogant that you think you could do anything at all against him, and that you did not do exactly what the world needed you to do. You were in a tough position and you suffered; yes. People died. People very important to you died.

    ¡°This is still a good outcome.

    ¡°You even spoke of your own sacrifice in the name of bringing Addashield back to us. Back to humanity.

    ¡°Your sacrifice worked!

    ¡°I have it on good authority that your parents were aware of this possible outcome, too, and they chose to go along with what the world needed of them as well.

    ¡°Know this, Mark: I have sent thousands to their deaths against monsters, all to save the rest of us, orphaning babies and widowing wives and making widowers out of husbands. Any true leader would do the same. Any true human would volunteer to be the ones sent out to their deaths.

    ¡°This time, the person left to suffer is you, and we all thank our patrons that you managed to pull a miracle out of your ass and only cause a 2% demonification of Addashield. That much is perfectly acceptable. So take heart that you did kill Addashield. He did do the right thing and he did sacrifice himself instead of allowing the demon to take over, for I highly doubt he was ever going to be allowed to return to the Old Contract at all.

    ¡°The man and the demon who killed your parents is dead at your hands.

    ¡°Addashield is dead.

    ¡°His son works to erase the freshly-known sins of his father, and to stand where his father once stood. He would not be the first dragon to attempt this sort of reconciliation with his birth-people. He will not be the last. He is certainly doing a better job of it than most historical examples.¡±

    Mark probably should have withered at all of that. Julia was certainly accomplished at giving a tear down. But instead, Mark found himself asking, ¡°Can you get to the part where you¡¯re kind?¡±

    Julia moved on, saying, ¡°Union is one of the strongest known powers, and you are lucky to have unlocked it without going through the Chosen system. You didn¡¯t need Freyala to give it to you. You have it yourself. This gives you variety unmatched by a normal priest, but you will need to make this power your own without utilizing the training wheels Freyala gifts to those who go through the Chosen system.

    ¡°The first lesson is still the same, though.

    ¡°The first lesson in Union is about linking yourself to the world and then breathing in the good health and breathing out the bad health. It¡¯s all very meditative.

    ¡°Breathe with me now.¡±

    She breathed in, deeply.

    Mark tried to breathe in, and he felt himself shuddering instead. He was furious, and yet, he was a lot more than furious right now. He was bereft. Lost. Hating everything, and wanting revenge. But he was also human, and he saw that Julia was trying to help him. Actually help him. In her own way, in the way she knew how; with an iron hand and tough words.

    Julia breathed out, ¡°And then you breathe out the bad. Exhale now.¡±

    Mark breathed out, and he shuddered on exhale, too.

    Something broke inside of him. Some fragile barrier that he had managed to erect between himself and his sorrow.

    The tears came again.

    He shut his eyes as hard as he could, but the tears still flowed.

    ¡°Let them flow, Mark!¡± Julia said.

    And Mark opened his eyes. Tears flowed.

    Tears streamed down Julia¡¯s face, too, as she said, ¡°We face so much sorrow in our lives! Accepting it and moving on is the only way to get through this or any other day. Now breathe in!¡±

    Mark tried to breathe in and he mostly succeeded.

    ¡°Exhale the bad!¡± Julia breathed out a lot of hot air, and for some reason Mark found that funny.

    He laughed.

    Julia smiled a little.

    Mark still shuddered as he exhaled as much ¡®bad¡¯ as he could.

    ¡°In!

    ¡°Out!

    ¡°In with the good!

    ¡°Out with the bad!

    ¡°In again! Out again.¡±

    Julia breathed with rhythm, opting to let the sound of her active breathing do all the talking.

    Mark breathed with the Head Priestess of Freyala for a while. He wasn¡¯t sure when the tears stopped, but they stopped. They dried. Julia looked like a grandmother again, and not the High Priestess that she was. She smiled as she breathed.

    And Mark felt better. He didn¡¯t understand how he felt better, but he did. It was probably magic. It was probably Union, yes. But it was also just a person talking to another person, trying to help them understand.

    Eventually, Julia slowed.

    Mark slowed, too.

    Julia softly said, ¡°That¡¯s the first lesson. Link with the goodness in the world all around you, and throw your badness away into the wind. All the world can handle your tiny problems, and give you what you need to heal yourself in turn. That¡¯s the basic truth of it all. This is the basic way to learn this type of healing magic. It¡¯s also one of the best types of healing magic, because this type of healing magic requires you to heal yourself, first.

    ¡°A healer of Freyala is never the first to fall, and thus, they can support all the others around them, no matter what horrors assail us all.

    ¡°You will eventually be an adamantium rock in the storm, Mark. You just need time for the fires of your forging to cool down. You just need time to heal.¡± Julia asked, ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t lie when he said, ¡°Intellectually, yes.¡±

    Julia nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good enough for now.¡± She stood up, and when Mark tried to stand, she said, ¡°No no. The tea here is good. Finish your tea. Have more if you wish. I have work to do, but that doesn¡¯t mean you must leave. The reconstruction effort for Orange City is already underway, but it starts as all reconstruction efforts do, with monster killing. The Church is helping by sending healers to support the teams in the area. But that¡¯s just the least of our daily efforts here, Mark.

    ¡°We¡¯re also sending healers to Daihoon all the time, fortifying parties so that they don¡¯t go off and get themselves killed, and also fortifying cities against monster incursions with healers on the walls and paladins on the front lines. Our Inquisitors routinely hunt and kill Fallen, and those campaigns always cost tens of lives, if we¡¯re lucky. The hunts for Addashield¡¯s hidden dragons continues. We¡¯re working with Drakarok¡¯s people there, and many others. When Addashield descended he broke a lot that he had been maintaining all his life. All of humanity is fixing everything that we can. I organize much of the higher level problem-solving of our church, Mark. I have to decide which people die where today, spending lives so that civilization survives.

    ¡°With luck, and power, most of those people will survive solving the problems I send them against, like how you survived Addashield. I am sorry about your parents.¡±

    Mark sat stunned at pretty much all of that, but especially the last part.

    High Priestess Julia Garin nodded, knowing she had made many points. She left.

    Mark sat there, thinking. When he sipped his tea again it was cold.

    It was still good tea.

    He was being very fucking stupid for blaming himself for Addashield¡¯s actions, wasn¡¯t he. Shit. He had had no control at all over any of that, did he... Mark¡¯s thought stilled as he felt ice knives in his stomach and all across his spine, yet again. He didn¡¯t want to admit that this was the ¡®good outcome¡¯ at all.

    And yet¡­

    He wanted to believe the High Priestess. He wanted to believe that he had done everything he could.

    But he missed his parents.

    Mark sipped his tea. The servitor refilled his cup while he was staring off into space, and Mark drank the refill too. It was better when it was warmer. Mark breathed. In, out, in, out. The breathing exercises helped a lot, apparently.

    Very meditative.

    Mark made a decision.

    He would hold onto his rage, but he would also set it aside. It would smolder in the back of his mind, fueling the rest of his decisions in life, but he wouldn¡¯t let it control him like it had controlled him just now. He had blown up in the face of High Priestess Julia Garin. That was simply¡­ simply unacceptable.

    She was right about a lot.

    Mark was used by Addashield to get what he wanted, which was complete evasion from his crimes. Was the High Dragon that came afterward Addashield, or not? Was the High Priestess lying to Mark about that, to make him choose a better path in life? Or was she telling the truth, and Addashield truly was gone? And all that remained was ¡®Addashield¡¯s son¡¯?

    Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Whatever the case, Mark didn¡¯t matter to Addashield.

    The archmage¡¯s actions weren¡¯t personal. Mark was just a stupid kid thinking he could change the world for the better, and Addashield had used him¡­ And what about the other three people he had lined up for Tutorial? They all died, didn¡¯t they? Mark hadn¡¯t heard about them at all. They were certainly dead.

    Addashield was completely derelict in his duty to the world. He was a Hero to Humanity and Mark thought that meant something¡­ something better than what it had turned out to mean. But Addashield had been using people for a long time, and then killing kaiju and otherwise to¡­ To hide his crimes beneath layers of blinding adoration from others? Or to make up for his crimes? Did he feel guilty at all about what he did to survive?

    He had poisoned the world with hidden dragons, all for the sake of his own skin, which he sold to a demon for power when he was young and stupid¡­

    Ah.

    Just like Mark had sold his life to an archmage, hoping for power.

    It was not wrong to want power, though. Power was how people saved themselves from monsters. Power was the true currency of the world.

    Mark laid his head onto the table, muttering, ¡°Fuck.¡±

    He sat like that for a little while, and then he sat upright, finished off his cold tea, and asked COFR for guidance out of there, back to his room.

    Dinner in the great hall was pretty good.

    When dinner was done Mark sat in his room, alone and thinking.

    And he breathed; sometimes with purpose and meditation, bringing in the good and expelling the bad, and sometimes just laying there, thinking. Breathing meditation actually helped a lot. Mark wasn¡¯t sure if that was because of the meditation-aspects of it all, or if simply breathing was truly the first lesson in understanding his Union Talent.

    Mark had never been distrustful of people in power before. Not really. Sure, you hear about bad things happening every now and then, but it¡¯s always to someone else. Mark wanted to trust High Priestess Julia Garin, but in the very same talk where she told him breathing was the first step in Union, she also told him that she would be sending people to their deaths today, in order to protect civilization.

    Did those people she sent to their deaths know she was sending them to their deaths? Or would they only find out in the dying, what had been done to them? Did they make their own decisions to go out there, like Mark had?

    Eventually, Mark decided to take a shower.

    It wasn¡¯t until he was taking off his sweatpants that he realized he had met with the High Priestess of Freyala in gym clothes.

    Mark laughed to keep from feeling mortified.

    He smiled as he imagined Mom berating him for showing up for an important meeting in gym clothes, while Dad would be saying that Mark couldn¡¯t have helped it, because he thought he was just going to meet someone in the School of Healing. Maybe Mom would have allowed that, but she¡¯d tell Mark that he should have asked COFR who he was meeting, so he could have at least blamed his clothes on COFR instead of his own unknowing.

    The shower felt good.

    Mark went to bed exhausted.

 034

    Mark woke up feeling pretty decent, actually.

    He rose, put on some basic sand-brown clothes, and walked out into the dorm halls where other men and women his own age or a little bit older walked around in white or grey. They were acolytes of the faith, and Mark was out of place. A few people looked at him because of that.

    They had probably been looking at him for a week, hadn¡¯t they?

    Ah¡­

    Mark walked down to the cafeteria and lined up with everyone else, grabbing a tray and then grabbing scrambled eggs, sausage, and waffles out of big trays of the stuff, while other acolytes worked the kitchens, constantly replacing trays with fresh food. There was no checkout counter; everyone ate for free. It was pretty much army accommodations.

    As Mark sat down by himself at the end of one of the long tables, he realized that he was in the acolyte training halls. He had been here for a while, though he had only come out to get food recently. Maybe his first time was 3 days ago? Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure. He didn¡¯t remember much of the last 15-ish days, aside from racing away from the kaiju brawl after his Tutorial, and then a day or something ago, when Priestess Lola came into his room and told him it wasn¡¯t his fault. He vaguely recalled giving testimony about¡­ stuff. He wasn¡¯t sure.

    Maybe he should check up on that. See what he had said to the¡­ people. Whoever they were. Mark was pretty sure he had talked to a lot of men and women in bright silver armor, so, paladins. Aside from that¡­ What had he done? Who had he spoken to?

    ¡­ Some other time.

    Mark finished breakfast and put his tray up. With a few taps on his phone, he checked on the schedule for the next Introduction class today, and saw it was in another hour.

    Mark decided to go to the gym, to go for a run. He always felt better after actually moving, so after he put his gym clothes back on, he went down the hall to the gym, to the rows upon rows of treadmills. People occupied most of the treadmills already, but there was one that was open in front of a television showing some cartoons.

    Mark hopped on the treadmill and he started at 10 kilometers per hour. A slow start. A good speed.

    It was surprisingly easy to run. Mark bumped it up to 15 kph and got a good pace going. He had longer legs now, and running was easier. Or maybe not easier, but at least faster. Mark had almost forgotten how good it felt to simply be moving, but here he was, running well.

    He had missed this.

    After the coma, he had worked hard to get back onto his feet, and then he had been given that Color Drop treatment and everything got easier. As Mark upped the speed to 20 KPH, he breathed in and then out, trying to sync his breaths with the strike of shoes against rubber. 20 kilometers per hour felt¡­ pretty good, really. Way too fast, though, compared to everything Mark was used to. It was a little over 12 miles per hour, and that was a lot. That was a five minute mile.

    And Mark was running fast and free.

    Faster than most other people on the treadmills, actually, but there was a woman four machines down and a man at the other end who were running a lot faster ¡ª one of them was a speedster, for sure¡ª so Mark didn¡¯t feel out of place. Those guys were really focused, though. Mark just felt good running this fast, breathing in the good, exhaling the bad. Fans blew in air from across the gym, making the run breezy and free.

    Good goes in, bad goes out. The world can handle problems that a single mortal cannot.

    Mark felt good.

    Half an hour later, Mark still felt good as he slowed the machine down and gradually tapered his run down to a walk. With a smile and sweating heavily, Mark left the gym to head back to his dorms.

    Mark hopped in his private shower in his private bathroom, and almost started bawling again. He had no idea why he cried, but then again, he did.

    He breathed some, under the flow of the shower.

    Soon enough, he turned off the water, put on more basic sand-brown clothes, and went out to Introduction.

    - - - -

    Orissa had drawn a hexagon on the chalkboard with a bunch of concentric hexagons inside. They had labels, but Mark was still walking into the classroom. He found a seat in the middle front, alongside a few other people who had the same opinion about the best place to sit in class. None of them sat next to each other, though, and Mark probably sat too close to a guy on his right due to the threat of accidental power activation, but this was fine, right? There was a whole seat between the¡ª

    The other guy got up and moved a seat away.

    Mark said, ¡°Sorry.¡±

    The other guy just shook his head¡ª

    ¡°Greetings, students!¡± Orissa said, walking into the room from the back. She had an exceptionally perky attitude today, and even the light around her seemed to mirror her attitude. She seemed brighter. Literally brighter. With a wide smile, Paladin Orissa Turner strode up to the professor¡¯s stage, saying, ¡°And now we¡¯re on to day 2 of Introduction! All about powers, talents, whatever you want to call them! I¡¯m sure you all think you know what the various categories are, and maybe you do! But probably not. You!¡± She pointed at some guy. ¡°What sorts of powers are there! What are the general classifications!¡±

    The guy blinked, and then he tried, ¡°Body, Kinetic, Mind, Spiritual, Demonic¡­ Err. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°No worries! No worries! You got the first 3 correct, but not really, and then I think you went off on a tangent in a way that is both deeply correct and not correct at all. How about this.¡± Orissa looked to Mark. ¡°Give me a number. How many categories of power are there?¡±

    Mark glanced at the hexagon behind Orissa. ¡°Six.¡±

    ¡°Correct! There are 6 primary classifications of power, and 2 variations.¡± Orissa gestured at the¡ª She paused as some student walked into the room, making noise as he opened the door. The guy stood there in the door for a moment, stunned. Orissa said, ¡°Take a seat, please!¡±

    The guy rapidly took a seat.

    Orissa continued, ¡°Now there are 6 classifications of power, and 2 variations. The variations are the most clear-cut and have to do with the nature of astral bodies themselves, so we¡¯ll go over those first.¡± Orissa glowed with light, a white blob taking shape in the air around her. ¡°Astral bodies are this sort of shape. Bigger people usually have bigger auras. The size of your aura is the space that you can affect. This is one of the big reasons why monsters like dragons and kaiju are so horrific, because their auras are commensurately sized. Most humans, no matter their size, cover about this much space with their power.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Mark mentally noted how dangerous a dragon truly was in that moment.

    ¡°When you get really strong, you can cover larger areas, and you can even do this.¡±

    And then he reevaluated his position in the hierarchy of the world, throwing his evaluation of himself far, far down the ladder, when Orissa shaped her light, somehow, into bubbles that expanded out from her body, her light fluttering far and wide, expanding throughout the entire room like she was blowing bubbles into a glass of milk. The white light filled the entirety of the room, crowding against the ceiling and the floor, filling the entire space.

    Everything glowed with color.

    Orissa smiled as she held her power out there, filling the room, saying, ¡°This is the exact same volume as before, but I spread it out. This is a high level technique. This is a normal technique. This technique makes me very, very vulnerable, and is best used not like this, but like this:¡±

    The light of the room vanished and came back together into a series of layers against Orissa¡¯s skin, like form-fitting armor five layers thick.

    With a much easier time speaking, Orissa said, ¡°This is a defensive zone of mine. Pretty simple. Rather illustrative. Same volume as before, too. There¡¯s density-of-power to consider here, too, but we¡¯re not going to go over that today. That¡¯s too complicated and individualized to be spoken of in Introduction.¡± She dismissed her light, and then wrote in big letters on the left side of the hexagon, saying, ¡°I have the normal form of power! This is called Near! Also known as continuous, solid, or steady.¡± She stopped writing and said, ¡°This is the power that 99% of people possess. Usually, people cannot act at a distance at all. If you see a person using their power at a distance, then you are seeing something like this.¡±

    She held up a hand and a ball of light appeared around it. And then she threaded brightest light, like a laser, off of that orb, into the air on the other side of the professor¡¯s stage. Another light orb appeared at that destination.

    ¡°This is how most people use their astral body at a distance. It¡¯s not actually at a distance at all! As you can see, there¡¯s a line between myself and the orb over there. But what if I do this?¡±

    The line between the orbs vanished, leaving two orbs of light hanging in the air, one on her hand and the other over there.

    Orissa pointed with her illuminated hand at a woman sitting beside Mark. The ¡®disconnected¡¯ light orb also pointed at the woman. ¡°Point to where you think I¡¯m still connected to the other orb.¡±

    The woman saw this as a trick, and Mark did, too. She went with the trick, though, pointing between the light orbs, saying, ¡°There?¡±

    ¡°Nope! Thanks for playing along, though,¡± Orissa said, as a line lit up in the air that went in the opposite direction of her illuminated hand and the orb in the air, circling around the entire room like a line of LEDs around the edge of the ceiling. Orissa dropped her power, and the light went out. ¡°Most everyone in the world has a classification of ¡®Solid¡¯. The only reason this part of the lesson is taught at all is because the 1% of people who are not solid are called ¡®Fars¡¯.¡± She started writing names on the boards. ¡°Reacher. Ether. Airy. Rares. Every culture on Daihoon has names for these people, but we most know them by their main use and Talent. Every single Far who ever goes through Tutorial always Awakens with the power that we know these people by, and which makes them invaluable and yet arguably the weakest member of any organization. These are the people who make or break operations in the field, and they need to be protected.

    ¡°The Seer.

    ¡°These are the people who can truly operate their astral body at a distance, and none of them are here in this class at all. All the rest of us just have to figure out how to use our powers at distances through tricks of aura control and astral body workings, and even then we¡¯ll never be able to do what a Seer can do. You can try! But learned-mages ¡ªnot Talent-mages¡ª have a much easier time becoming Seers than anyone who has gone through Tutorial and had their powers set for them.¡±

    Mark instantly wondered, if most people were solid-aura users, then how did healers heal at a distance? Was it a ¡®bubbling-aura¡¯ thing, like how Orissa had done? Well yeah. It had to be that, didn¡¯t it?

    Orissa looked around the class, noting as people understood what she was saying, and then she moved onto the chalkboard, saying, ¡°And now we¡¯ll go over the 6 classifications of powers.¡± She started writing down in big letters as she said,

    ¡°Here at the bottom left, we have the start of the hexagon! It¡¯s Body! All the physical stuff. Speedster, Brawny, etcetera. It¡¯s typically thought of as blue!

    ¡°One up from that, we have Kinetic! Pretty self explanatory. All shaping powers go here. This is green.

    ¡°At the top we have Mind! Thinking powers go here. Tinkers, telepaths, etcetera. Yellow.

    ¡°Top right, we have Natural! All the weird powers are here, from plant control to healing to witchery. If you¡¯ve got a witch, they¡¯re probably a Natural of some sort. This is the most varied category of powers. This stuff does not conform to natural laws; only individual laws. Orange.

    ¡°Bottom right, we have the Arcane! This is where the mages come from. Everyone with a Mage power, or a specific subset of Mage, like Necromancer or Enchanter, comes from here. Whereas the Natural follows individual ideas of power, the Arcane follows the laws of the soul which have nothing to do with the ideas of humans at all. This is the realm of demons, for they wrote those soul laws long before anyone else came along. You, who mentioned ¡®demon¡¯ as a category of power, were thinking of Arcane because of that fact. For those of you with a mind for connecting dots, ¡®Arcane¡¯ is also known as ¡®Soul¡¯. This is red.

    ¡°Three of the main categories are Body, Mind, and now Soul.

    ¡°The very bottom of the hexagon is known as Arch. All reality-warping powers are located here, in the space between vast physical power and vast soul power. The ability to move the world through pure action is the domain of the Arch. Arches used to be known as Mystics, but that¡¯s an outdated name. Arch is typically colored purple.

    ¡°Now, taken all together, we have Body, Kinetic, Mind, Natural, Soul, and Arch. That¡¯s the hexagon. If you think your Power or Talent exists outside of this, you¡¯re wrong. I won¡¯t argue with you. You¡¯re wrong. Absolutely everything you can think of is covered in this space, and if it¡¯s truly weird, it¡¯s probably just somewhere in Natural and maybe a Seer is doing it.

    ¡°We¡¯ll save questions for later¡ª Ahh. Maybe not. I see at least two of you are experiencing a spontaneous activation.¡±

    Mark wanted to look across the room, to see who Orissa was talking about, but when he tried to move his head all he managed to do was lay down on his desk in front of him. Everything was too heavy. He could barely breathe through the weights somehow holding him down. He did manage to look left, though, and with eyes still open, he saw a woman floating out of her chair, into the air. She desperately grabbed onto the desk to hold on, but she kept flying upward. She yelped a little, but it was a soft thing. And then she couldn¡¯t hold on to her seat, to her table anymore. She floated up into the air, and then came down like a dead body, right into Orissa¡¯s illuminated light.

    Orissa set the unmoving woman down, saying, ¡°There, there. You¡¯re okay.¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t move.

    He was deeply scared, and he hadn¡¯t realized it until then. His heart beat hard¡ª

    And then he heard Orissa¡¯s voice from right above him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about passing out. You¡¯ll be fine. She¡¯s fine, too. This right here, class, is the usual result of a kinetic experiencing a spontaneous activation for the first time. I imagine the young woman is an airkinetic, and this young man is something else that he¡¯s already touching, right now.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go over this phenomenon while they can still hear me, but I imagine both of them will go unconscious soon enough. It¡¯s nothing to worry about.

    ¡°A kinetic is attuned to a certain thing, and they can move that thing around like it¡¯s their body. But touching those things weakens them, because their aura automatically latches onto that thing. It¡¯s like they¡¯ve automatically attached a new limb and they¡¯re trying to figure out how to use that limb. Like a baby trying to move around too much; they tire fast, at first. If they stop touching those things, then they don¡¯t have to support the weight of that new limb, but these two, just like me, seem incapable of not touching their designated kinetic material.

    ¡°I had to be shut away in a dark room for a week when I first Awakened.

    ¡°Many of you will experience a spontaneous power activation during today¡¯s class, if you haven¡¯t already.

    ¡°Some of them might be dangerous to others, but none of them will be dangerous to yourselves, because 99.9% of Talents are like that, and we make sure that those who Awaken dangerously do so under much more controlled situations than this.

    ¡°When you have an activation, if you can, you will excuse yourself, because that is the official end of Introduction for most people. If you want to come back to another setting of this class with some other teacher, then you can, but you can just go on to normal classes with normal teachers at that point. But as for this class, here, we¡¯re getting through everyone¡¯s questions today until they experience a power activation, and then this Introduction is over.

    ¡°Falling asleep at your table is fine, though. I¡¯ll move you to some cots I¡¯ll set up while¡­¡±

    She kept talking, but Mark couldn¡¯t hold on to consciousness anymore.

    He slept.

 035

    Mark woke to soft words from an unfamiliar voice.

    ¡°...rk¡­ Ma¡­ Mark. Mark? Okay. Yeah he¡¯s here. I need you to listen to me, Mark. You¡¯re in a kinetic hole. You¡¯re too connected to what you¡¯re touching to be able to distance it from yourself, and thus you are always holding that weight. Your instructor, Orissa Turner, told you about this, right before you fainted. Do you understand?¡±

    Mark felt like he was being crushed with weight, so yeah, he did understand. But he couldn¡¯t speak. He could only lay on his back, the world looking dark, but his eyes were just closed. All he could do was think. How was he supposed to answer the voice?

    ¡°I¡¯m a mind reader so I can hear you speaking as you think. I¡¯m here to help you through this.¡±

    Mark was instantly scared. What if he thought of something wrong? Like how he had helped Addashield through the Tutorial, or about Sally and her hair, or about sex, so much sex, that he just didn¡¯t understand the purpose of, and did people actually like each other like that? Was there something wrong with him? What about his bank account! His numbers were¡ª

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that sort of stuff, Mark. I¡¯m here to help you get out of your kinetic hole.¡±

    Why were they saying ¡®hole¡¯! They didn¡¯t have to say ¡®hole¡¯ so much!

    ¡°Kinetic depths, then,¡± said the speaker, with a bit of smirking to their voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the wordage. I¡¯m here to help you out of these depths. Listen to the sound of my voice. You are currently holding weights on your body. A lot of weight. Adamantium is strewn all throughout your bones, like a fine dust. What you have to do is push that dust outward in order to remove it from your body. This is usually very painful, but we¡¯re going to have someone help you breathe with a magic technique and this will help you expel the adamantium. You have this same power, called Union, but we¡¯re going to have someone else do the breathing for you right now. When you¡¯re ready. Okay?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he would ever be ready, but he was ready as he could ever be.

    ¡°Okay. Here comes the assisted breathing.¡±

    And then Mark felt his chest inflate like someone had forced air into him, and then the air came out like a bellows emptying. Mark felt sand or dust blow out of his body, like he was exhaling a desert, and in that action he felt¡­ lighter.

    Mark opened his eyes and he didn¡¯t see much besides a hospital ceiling¡ª

    There was a woman standing by his side, looking down at him, grinning a little.

    She said, ¡°Hello, Mark!¡± She was the mind reader. ¡°I am the mind reader, yes. I¡¯m Cheryl. Nice to meet you.¡± Cheryl picked up a paper off of Mark¡¯s chest, showing off black dust on that paper. ¡°Adamantium. It¡¯s yours. We¡¯ll save it for you to the side, for now.¡± She probably lifted and dumped the paper into a container, or something, because that¡¯s what it sounded like. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I did. And now I put the paper back down on your chest to grab some more. We¡¯ll do this a few times. You okay?¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t see the person helping him breathe with Union, but he was okay otherwise.

    ¡°The person helping you breathe is Priestess Lola Turner. I think you know her.¡± Cheryl waved a hand over Mark¡¯s face.

    Oh! Lola? She¡¯s still here?

    Lola¡¯s voice came from the side, ¡°Hello, Mark.¡± She poked her head into view. ¡°You¡¯re perfectly fine. You were out for 5 hours, though, so we got worried. The density of your kinetic-attunement is too large for you. You¡¯d pull through to the other side of this problem with 2 days of strain, but we¡¯re doing it this way.¡±

    Mark tried to speak, and that wasn¡¯t working, so he thought, ¡®Thank you.¡¯

    Cheryl said, ¡°He said ¡®thank you¡¯.¡±

    Thanks, Cheryl.

    ¡°No problem, Mark. Ready to go again?¡±

    Mark ended up needing to exhale a full five times to make his sixth exhale come out clean. Each exhale removed more of the weight from his body than the last. When that was over, he easily sat up, as though he hadn¡¯t been pressed to the bed with the weight of a world upon him.

    Cheryl held the vial of adamantium. It was, like, an eyedropper full of the stuff. ¡°Around a tenth of a kilo. Just this much was enough to lay you out. I can hand it to you, but I want you to lay back down, first.¡±

    Mark¡­ lay back down.

    Cheryl put the vial onto Mark¡¯s stomach¡ª

    Suddenly the weight was back. Mark almost blacked out¡ª

    The weight went away as Cheryl took the vial away.

    Mark gasped to be free of the weight. ¡°Holy crap.¡±

    Lola chuckled, but she looked worn out. She smiled softly, saying, ¡°It was good to see you again, Mark. I have to go help other patients now, but if you want someone to help you learn Union aside from the Holy Mother, I¡¯ll be here for that, almost every day.¡±

    Mark smiled and said, ¡°Thank you. Yeah. Maybe I¡¯ll... I didn¡¯t know you were still here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be here for a while as they do all their investigations into Addashield.¡±

    Mark lost his smile. ¡°Okay?¡±

    Lola stood up and said, ¡°When an archmage falls, they hit a lot of people on the way down. Addashield hit more than most. We¡¯ll talk more some other time. It was good to see you again.¡± She gave a courtly bow toward Cheryl who nodded in turn, and then she walked out of the room.

    Mark watched her go.

    And then Cheryl brought him back to the present, saying, ¡°Kinetics gain strength by being in contact with their designated substance and being able to lift it as they would their own body. This vial of adamantium is way too much for you, by far. For now. Eventually I imagine you¡¯ll be wearing bracers of the stuff like Addashield used to wear.¡±

    Mark suddenly realized how far out of league he was, yet again. ¡°He had, like¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure how much weight of adamantium, actually. He touched his forearms, measuring in his mind, and guessed. ¡°50 kilos of the stuff?¡±

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    ¡°Something like that.¡± Cheryl held up the vial, saying, ¡°I want to put this in storage for you, if that¡¯s okay. It¡¯s still yours. You can make decisions about it all later. You¡¯re not safe to hold it at all right now, and your body is already producing more of the stuff. I have a suggestion for you, if you would hear it.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t want to let the adamantium out of his sight, but he understood that he couldn¡¯t hold it himself, so he said, ¡°¡­ Sure. I can hear it out.¡±

    ¡°In 8 more months you¡¯ll have this much more adamantium in your body, once again. You might acclimate to having that much in your body by then, because the weight of it all will steadily ramp up inside of you the whole time, and also you¡¯ll have other Powers to grow at the same time. If all you had was adamantiumkinesis, then I would suggest you let me dump almost all of this into a separate vial, and you could hold onto a small, small portion. But you also have Healthy Body, which you can grow like normal, and Union, which is so incredibly robust that you could only have that Power and you would still never run out of ways to improve.

    ¡°So I believe you should let me put this vial into the Vault for you, and you can just gradually grow your own adamantium again, and acclimate to it that way. You are free to disagree. What do you say?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I want to donate all of that to the church so¡­¡± Cheryl tried not to frown too deeply, but she frowned deeply anyway. Mark continued, ¡°So someone can make it into a weapon¡­ that they¡¯ll use for the good fight...¡± Mark frowned a little. ¡°Why not? It needs to be used. Not sit in a vault. I¡¯ll make more, anyway.¡±

    Cheryl easily said, ¡°Nope. Absolutely not. This is yours. The church won¡¯t accept this.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a prisoner here, so we won¡¯t take anything from you. Anything you make is yours to keep, and this most certainly includes the adamantium that you create inside of your bones.¡± Cheryl looked at him. ¡°More to the point, though, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You were used, harmed, and left with a lifetime of trauma. Don¡¯t go making more trauma upon yourself with bad financial decisions. Now! I¡¯m putting this into storage for you, and it¡¯s yours when you want it.¡± She added, ¡°Don¡¯t go snubbing your nose at us. We have money. We have resources. We want you to eventually join us here as a Paladin or Inquisitor. And that means we¡¯re doing this relationship right. We¡¯re not taking your money from you. You have had enough taken from you, Mark. You deserve nicer things in life.¡±

    Mark felt like Cheryl had wrapped him in a warmth on the inside. He teared up. ¡°Okay.¡±

    Softer, Cheryl said, ¡°I¡¯m a therapist, Mark. I¡¯m here if you want to talk to me. But since you don¡¯t want to talk, how about joining a club and doing something while you¡¯re a prisoner here? How about the Future Paladins club? Monster hunters is a good club, too. There are classes you can take, too, if you¡¯d like some book learning. A club is the active part of the curriculum, but the class is the classroom part of the curriculum. Labs versus classes, you understand¡­?¡± Cheryl hummed. ¡°I guess not. That''s a college thing, yeah.¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°Never expected to go to college.¡±

    ¡°The classes and clubs around here are on 3-month staggered rotation or more, so there¡¯s always something new starting, and you need to be around people your own age, Mark. Ask COFR about clubs. You¡¯ll find some fun ones, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sure?¡±

    Cheryl stood up, asking, ¡°Ready to get back out there? It¡¯s just about time for dinner. It¡¯s everyone¡¯s favorite pizza night, too.¡±

    Mark had a few mixed emotions. Mostly, he was happy, but also tired. He admitted, ¡°I¡¯d like to stop feeling like a weakling sometime soon. Do you think that¡¯ll happen?¡±

    Cheryl looked him straight in the eyes, and said, ¡°You¡¯re going to be one of the strongest people on the planet someday, Mark. Not today, though. Not for a long while.¡±

    Mark had no idea why that was funny, but he laughed anyway.

    Cheryl smiled. ¡°Good luck out there, Mark.¡±

    Mark got up, saying, ¡°Thank you, Cheryl¡­?¡±

    ¡°Doctor Cheryl Appell, but ¡®Cheryl¡¯ is fine. It was nice to meet you, Mark.¡±

    ¡°You, too.¡±

    - - - -

    As Mark walked out of the hospital wing, he felt¡­ Weird.

    Like a bolt from the blue, Mark realized what he was feeling.

    He hated himself.

    That¡¯s what was weird. As Mark walked across the paths between grass fields, among the towers of Citadel Freyala in the afternoon, Mark knew what he was feeling. And it was hate. Too much hate. Hate at himself and at Addashield and at¡­ A lot. He had fallen unconscious and needed to be rescued from his own power, too! What the fuck! Sure, he had known kinetics sometimes had issues, but he wanted to be a kinetic. He didn¡¯t want to be weak! And maybe he would be a strong kinetic in the future¡­ But holy fuck!

    He never used to be weak like this.

    He never used to balk at anything, either.

    He had balked back there at Cheryl, the mind reader. So what if she read his mind! She probably saw weird shit all the time.

    But Mom and Dad were dead and home was gone and he could never return, and all the world was different. Mark felt a deep sense of shame, like a coldness along his spine and in his guts, as he thought about how¡­ How people told him he hadn¡¯t failed anyone at all. But Mark still felt like a failure.

    FUCK.

    And it was fucking stupid to feel like this, too!

    He knew he had been used! He knew none of it was his fault! But his stupid brain kept telling him that everything was his fault! Why? Because Mark wanted it to be his fault, because¡ª

    Mark stopped in his tracks.

    I want it to be my fault.

    Why did he want it to be his fault?

    Because that means I can do something about it when it happens again, when the next big thing comes into my life.

    But since he couldn¡¯t do anything about it¡­

    It¡¯s not my fault.

    ¡­ Mark breathed out slowly, imagining that he would be experiencing that particular revelation for a while to come.

    - - - -

    Mark sat in bed, belly full of pizza, as he flicked through his phone, looking up clubs to join and classes to take.

    There were a few easy choices.

    He signed up for healing practice with Healing Hall tomorrow, putting his name into the basket as a ¡®tier 0 Union healer, no proven skill yet¡¯ and let the gods take the wheel. If Lola should be there, then that¡¯s who he would talk with, but it was equally likely that he¡¯d get someone else. It was not a class, but a club, meaning active work. They expected a person to not have any skill at all, and they¡¯d learn on the job.

    The sparring club was another easy choice. Mark needed to get back to weapons work, and he was eager to go up against others. Instructor Gravel never let them actually injure each other in Tutorial training because injuries could be serious without healers on hand, but that didn¡¯t apply here, at Citadel Freyala, where every other person was a healer of some sort. The club even promised that injuries would happen.

    Less easy choices were movie club and stuff like that¡­

    Mark eventually decided not to pick any other clubs. He¡¯d meet people in Healing Hall and sparring club and make friends and connections that way.

    Yes.

    ¡°Good plan,¡± Mark told himself, smiling a little.

    ¡­ And then he felt bad about smiling.

    He thought about everything.

    He watched his parents¡¯ farewell video again, and then a few more times.

    Eventually, he fell asleep.

 036

    Sparring Club 101, for all the tier 0s non-brawny who wished to join, met in a room in a hall inside the coliseum-looking building, in the middle of Citadel. It was an easy hall to find. Down the way, through a twist in the curve of the coliseum, and there it was. Glass doors showed a training hall beyond with a stone middle floor, wooden floors on the sides, and benches and weapon racks all around.

    Three people of Mark¡¯s own age were in the room, with two sparring and one standing to the side.

    A half-giant of a woman stood to the other side, watching. She was the instructor, no doubt. She looked maybe 50, and she was telling the two sparring people about footwork.

    Mark watched for not too long¡ª

    The big woman looked his way¡ª

    Mark steeled himself, and walked inside.

    The big woman told him, ¡°This is Sparring Club 101. Tier-0, non-brawny only. You fit that qualification?¡±

    The two people sparring had not stopped at all.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ve got Healthy Body. That okay?¡±

    The woman harrumphed, then said, ¡°A Rank F Body Talent is borderline not-okay, but if you¡¯ve never used it before, then you¡¯re in the right place, for now. You¡¯re Mark, right?¡±

    Mark had signed up with the club last night, so yeah, the instructor would know him, and the big woman was obviously the instructor. ¡°I¡¯m Mark, yes. Hello.¡±

    The woman pointed at herself, ¡°Instructor Charms.¡± She pointed at the girl standing to the side, not able to spar with anyone because there were only three students. ¡°You two introduce each other then spar. Name and then Power, or category if you don¡¯t want specifics. Mace and shield.¡±

    Mark had no problem with that. He walked toward the girl, saying, ¡°Mark. Body.¡±

    The girl was Mark¡¯s own age, and kinda short. She was wiry. And she was already grabbing a mace and shield off of the wall. Just wooden stuff.

    ¡°Svea. Arcane,¡± Svea said, putting her shield on and hefting her mace.

    Mark grabbed his own set from the wall and smiled a little. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    Svea nodded professionally, her German accent thick as she said, ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    Instructor Charms called out, ¡°I got you both protected. Go at it as hard as you can. No head blows.¡±

    Svea exploded into action, launching forward, and Mark fell into a flow.

    Battle was easier than thinking about problems.

    He parried a strike and then bashed with his shield and Svea countered with a quick reposition but Mark was already there, in front of her, and he bore down with his shield and Svea faltered, and Mark got overhead of her. He crashed down with his mace onto her hea¡ª

    He stopped and pulled back.

    A head strike like that was an automatic win in most circles. He had already won, without actually fighting much at all. Svea sighed even as she pulled back, too. She stopped fighting because she had seen it, too.

    With a huff, Svea spoke thickly, ¡°Dammit. You are good at this, too.¡±

    Instructor Charms called out, ¡°Break.¡±

    The two guys who had been sparring broke apart, both of them huffing, both of them rapidly regaining their breath¡ª

    Charms said, ¡°Raoul and Mark, go. I have you protected. Jacob wait. Svea, you need to not give up so fast, but yes, Mark is beyond you. It is possible for a girl your size to fight larger foes, for we all have to learn to fight monsters and they¡¯re so much larger, but you were simply too aggressive, and...¡± The instructor had smaller words for Svea¡ª

    But Mark stood across from the guy named Raoul. ¡°Hello. Mark, Healthy Body.¡±

    Raoul gave a tiny bow. ¡°Raoul. Hexer. You have good stamina, yes?¡±

    ¡°I think so. What¡¯s a hexer do?¡±

    ¡°You know a blesser?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Like Seraph? ¡­ Er. No. The opposite of Seraph, then?¡±

    Seraph was a mass blesser. His Talent would raise the overall fighting power of everyone near him, including himself. He was great at kaiju fights.

    Raoul grinned. And then he raised his weapons, shield to his chest and wooden sword out in front. ¡°The opposite of Seraph, yes.¡±

    Mark mirrored him and tapped his mace to Raoul¡¯s sword¡ª

    Raoul instantly slapped Mark¡¯s mace in a soft parry and then gunned forward with his shield, hoping to get an opening for a real stab with his wooden blade.

    Mark bashed with his shield into Raoul¡¯s attack, pushing the guy back, crashing his mace into Raoul, but the guy slipped to the side. Mark didn¡¯t let himself be drawn into what was an obvious opening, and instead made his own opening by stepping back a half step¡ª

    Raoul pursued.

    Mark rejoined the fight, stepping left and trying to cut Raoul off¡ª

    Raoul moved fast and repositioned again.

    Mark entered the flow so easily.

    Raoul was soon breathing hard, fending off attacks, moving backward and rarely forward. Mark pursued¡ª

    And then Raoul started breathing easily, all previous difficulty gone.

    Mark knew something was up. He glanced to the side where Charms breathed in time with Raoul, and that was that Union power, wasn¡¯t it? Mark smiled at that and just enjoyed the spar¡ª

    ¡°Break!¡±

    Mark stepped away from Raoul and suddenly he was breathing hard. He had barely noticed it, but when the flow ended Mark realized he was fucking exhausted. Oh wow. Mark sat down on his ass, onto the stone, laughing, right as Raoul crashed to his ass, too, chuckling.

    Charms stood to the side, saying, ¡°Both of you can use real weapons with each other, when I am present and focused on you, otherwise wooden are fine. Mark. You are barely acceptable for this club. Healthy Body is Rank F, yes, but you are skilled enough that you would do better in the brawny room, and any Body skill at all means that you can fight physically better than most others. I¡¯ll clear you for that if you want.¡±

    The other guy said, ¡°No way! I want to fight him next!¡±

    Charms eyed the guy, saying, ¡°You could move to brawny club 101 too, Jacob.¡±

    ¡°No way,¡± Jacob instantly said. ¡°Those people are crazy.¡±

    Svea, the girl, said, ¡°Who do I get to spar with if everyone leaves!¡±

    Raoul chuckled as he lay on his back, and then he sat up. ¡°You aren¡¯t ever going to be on a front line, Svea. If you are on the front line then all of your team has failed.¡±

    Svea scowled. ¡°I will not be a babe in the crib, to be stabbed by any passing goblin.¡± She told them all, ¡°I will get better! Jacob! Fight me!¡±

    Jacob didn¡¯t hesitate. He squared up.

    Charms moved away from them, and then so did Mark and Raoul¡ª

    And then Svea and Jacob sparred.

    Mark was ready to go again, but Raoul still looked tired. Raoul had enough energy to ask questions, though.

    Raoul asked, ¡°You¡¯ve been fighting for a while?¡±

    Charms looked down at them, but then she turned back to face the spar in front of her. Svea was short and wiry. Jacob was of average height and body. Svea had so many short ends of the stick that Mark felt bad for her, but he knew not to disparage that sort of thing. She tried. That was more than enough for a non-brawny; she¡¯d be using her real powers to fight real battles elsewhere. This stuff here was just basic practice so that a person wasn¡¯t caught unawares out there and they froze up in an unexpected melee.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been training since I was 14¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure, but something didn¡¯t add up. ¡°I went through Tutorial all the way, just like you, I guess? Have you not been training since you were 14, too?¡±

    ¡°American accent, yes? I¡¯m from Spain. We train to escape and for stamina. Not to combat problems. We only ever get goblins to kill in the Tutorial anyway.¡±

    Mark was a little stunned. ¡°You mean you don¡¯t train to kill anything beside goblins? I had to kill a lot more than a goblin!¡±

    ¡°You can escape practically everything, but as long as you take the long path the goblins are the only ones you have to actually kill.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I guess that¡¯s a way to do it?¡± Mark thought about the invisible skeleton slime. He looked at Raoul. ¡°Really?¡±

    Raoul smiled. ¡°I am glad you showed up. We lost 2 people to brawny sparring 101 last week and you are a good partner! Those people simply moved on after they tried brawny 101, though. That club is full of cra¡ª¡±

    ¡°Break!¡± Charms called out.

    Mark looked back to the bout and Svea was on the ground, breathing hard, her mace laying several paces away from her. Jacob stood over her, breathing a little hard. And then Jacob held a hand down. Svea sighed and then took Jacob¡¯s hand to get back to her feet.

    Charms said, ¡°Jacob, Mark. Intro and go.¡±

    Jacob grinned as he walked to the center of the room, saying, ¡°Jacob! Sound Kinetic.¡±

    Oh! Sound kinetic was supposed to be a really good one. That one could disorient a monster very well, for most things had delicate sensory organs for hearing.

    Mark took his position, saying, ¡°Mark. Healthy Body.¡±

    Charms commanded, ¡°Go!¡±

    They sparred, Mark falling into the flow, his mace whipping out and cracking against wood as his shield bashed and his feet danced around Jacob, who did his damnedest to keep up. Mark wasn¡¯t taller, but he was faster. He pressed his advantage a little here and there, and soon he pressed hard. Jacob faltered¡ª

    And then Jacob rallied.

    Mark got pressed back¡ª

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    It happened in slow motion, almost. Mark¡¯s shield was out of position and Jacob¡¯s mace came in below his shield and turned the shield aside, opening Mark up. Mark¡¯s own mace was right there, though, right above Jacob, ready to clobber into Jacob¡¯s head. If this would have been a real fight, Mark would have clobbered Jacob over the head, but Jacob would have only been able to poke him with his own mace. And then Mark remembered about no mortal wounds and no head wounds and Mark jumbled out of the flow.

    He had also won, technically. Mark was in a clear position to win. Jacob could have only managed a body blow.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what happened after that, but the fight continued and then Jacob kicked, Mark¡¯s legs went out from under him, and Mark could not recover fast enough to prevent Jacob from stopping his mace right above Mark¡¯s head. Mark smiled and slumped to the ground.

    Jacob grinned, put his mace in his shield hand, and held out a hand. ¡°Maybe you can stay.¡±

    Mark chuckled and took Jacob¡¯s hand and got to his feet¡ª

    Charms said, ¡°Mark had you, Jacob, mace to the head, dead, but then he backed off. You didn¡¯t back off when Mark had you. You didn¡¯t even notice. That¡¯s your bad, Jacob.¡±

    Jacob¡¯s face went red with embarrassment. He turned to Mark and bowed. ¡°Apologies.¡±

    Mark was a little flustered at that. ¡°Uh! No worries! It was a good match.¡±

    Jacob stood up and he was still embarrassed¡ª

    ¡°Raoul and Svea,¡± Charms called out.

    Mark went to the side with Jacob as the other two battled¡ª

    Jacob said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t even notice.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Well I guess it¡¯s not okay, technically? But it¡¯s okay. I thought that sparring here was supposed to end with us getting injured more.¡±

    Charms spoke up, ¡°That is a misconception. I am here to save you from accidental power activation and accidental head blows and otherwise. You were cleared for accidental activation, Mark, or else I would have denied your application to this class, though it is a shame for you to lie about your power. You also have Union.¡±

    Before anyone else even mentioned something like ¡®dual-Talents¡¯, Mark asked, ¡°Don¡¯t most people use the Chosen system here?¡±

    Charms snorted, not bothering to look at Mark. She was focused on Raoul and Svea as the two students fought.

    Jacob said to Mark, ¡°I¡¯m hoping to get approved for Union soon. What¡¯d you have to do to get it?¡±

    Memories flashed in Mark¡¯s mind, of unsensing darkness and then laying in a hospital bed and struggling to walk and then Mom and Dad dying to burning that Mark never saw; dead to an archmage who killed them so thoroughly that their bodies could not be used against Mark. Was that a kindness? To burn them to ash? Or was that Addashield ensuring that Mark went through with the plan, and that his demon didn¡¯t have the opportunity to fuck up the plan?

    Mark blinked.

    He didn¡¯t say anything.

    Jacob got a message that Mark did not intend to give him. After a moment of worry, he put on a smile and powered through the awkwardness, ¡°So you¡¯re a great fighter!¡±

    Mark blinked again and came to the present. He gave a false grin, saying, ¡°Been training since I was 14, though not seriously until¡­ a year ago.¡± More like 2 years ago, but Mark had lost 8 months to coma and weakness, and did that count as life? Or had he missed that much life? He ignored that question. ¡°I¡¯m from the Americas. Where are you from? You have a¡­ a British accent?¡±

    ¡°South Africa,¡± Jacob said, grinning. ¡°Close enough, though.¡±

    ¡°Okay so I¡¯m not that worldly. I kinda blinded myself to everything for a long while.¡±

    Jacob got both excited and miffed, exclaiming, ¡°Can you believe that shit with the Curtain!¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°I just learned about that when I came to Citadel. It¡¯s wild.¡±

    Jacob exclaimed, ¡°I¡¯m mad lucky I pissed off a sound kinetic when I was a kid. Tainted my entire astral body so I didn¡¯t end up as a braw¡­ Err.¡± Jacob pulled his words back as much as he could.

    Mark laughed again. ¡°We can craft our own astral bodies a bit, can¡¯t we? I don¡¯t really plan on it, but that¡¯s what I heard, and the Chosen System is right there.¡±

    Jacob looked a bit worried for a moment. He said, ¡°You¡­ Uh¡ª¡±

    Charms called out, ¡°Break!¡±

    Raoul and Svea stopped sparring, though it was mostly Raoul pulling back and Svea breathing heavily until she caught herself.

    Charms turned to Mark. ¡°Outside. I need to talk to you.¡±

    Mark froze.

    Charms walked out of the room.

    Raoul, Svea, and Jacob all kinda pretended they didn¡¯t see anything.

    ¡­ And Mark went outside into the hallway, to where the half-giant woman was already standing off to the side.

    The hallway was almost empty. A pair of girls Mark¡¯s age, both of them covered in sweat and with towels in their hands, were walking down the hall toward Mark and Charms. Charms turned and glared at the two girls and the girls startled. The girls turned right back around and escaped.

    Charms pinned Mark with her gaze and spoke softly. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. Don¡¯t lie about your capabilities. Some obfuscation is fine, but what you were doing was a major lie.¡±

    Mark stilled.

    Charms continued. ¡°Don¡¯t start off with lies. Don¡¯t do that to yourself. Don¡¯t do that to others. Tell people the truth and let them make assumptions if they want. Don¡¯t hide yourself. You have a responsibility toward the power you will one day wield, and the people you will one day protect, but you are not strong enough right now to warrant hiding yourself. Teams cannot function when the truth of powers is hidden. It builds resentment in so many different ways. Most importantly, you have no responsibility at all toward the wreck of a person you are now, except to look back kindly on the decisions you make in your grief.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I have to go, now.¡±

    Charms said, ¡°Please stay, Mark. I¡¯m going to go back inside, and I want you to come back inside, too. You don¡¯t have to do it right away, but you should come back inside and just see what happens when you are your true self.¡±

    And then Instructor Charms went into the sparring room.

    Mark stood alone in the hallway¡ª

    The girls peeked out from behind a column¡ª

    Mark breathed deep and then went inside the sparring room.

    Jacob was saying something quiet to Raoul, while Svea was standing near, looking concerned. Charms hadn¡¯t gotten very far into the room. She stepped off to the side, looking down at Mark questioningly.

    With the same tone as the first time she had seen him, Charms said, ¡°This is Sparring Club 101. Tier-0, non-brawny only. You fit that qualification?¡±

    ¡°Mark Careed. Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union. Not sure if that counts for the non-brawny clause or not.¡±

    Svea¡¯s eyes went wide. She whispered something like a curse, or an exclamation. It was in German and said to the ground, so Mark didn¡¯t understand it for multiple reasons.

    Jacob slapped the back of his hand against Raoul¡¯s shoulder, nodding strongly, saying ¡®told you¡¯ with his silent mouth.

    Raoul frowned at Jacob and slapped his hand away, scowling.

    Charms said, ¡°We¡¯ll keep an eye on that Healthy Body. You and Raoul: spar with spears.¡±

    Raoul muttered, ¡°Fuck,¡± and then he grabbed a spear off the wall, as Mark did the same. He pointed his weapon at Mark, saying, ¡°You want to kill Addashield, right?¡±

    Mark felt a darkness creep into his everything, the dead words of his parents telling him not to live his life for revenge, and the injustice that Addashield had dragon¡¯d himself instead of facing a larger justice from the system. With his voice dripping with hate, his hands gripping his spear, Mark said, ¡°All monsters must die.¡±

    Raoul froze.

    Jacob muttered, ¡°Holy shit, dude.¡±

    Svea went from cautious to near-reverent. ¡°Yes, they must.¡±

    Raoul was still a little frozen as he said, ¡°I agree.¡± He raised his spear in two hands. With a light in his eyes, he looked upon Mark, and said, ¡°I want to go get drinks with you tonight. You, Jacob, and me.¡±

    Svea spoke up, ¡°And me!¡±

    Raoul allowed, ¡°And Svea.¡±

    Mark was stunned now. ¡°¡­ Okay?¡±

    ¡°Good! That is settled.¡±

    Raoul squared up.

    Mark squared up, too.

    They fought.

    Mark was much better with a spear than with any other weapon. In four short exchanges Raoul¡¯s spear went flying and Mark brought his spearhead, covered in cloth, to Raoul¡¯s neck. Raoul held up his hands, smiling wide.

    Raoul¡¯s spear clattered to the ground.

    Mark pulled back, saying, ¡°Thanks for the bout.¡±

    Raoul laughed. ¡°Holy gods, that was wild!¡±

    Jacob wanted to say something, and maybe Svea did too, but¡ª

    Instructor Charms said, ¡°No more spears for you, Mark.¡±

    Mark tried not to grin as he lowered his spear all the way. He grinned anyway.

    Mark barely remembered the rest of the next two hours, only that he felt lighter. He felt good. Sparring was only supposed to last an hour according to the schedule, and it often lasted less than that, but Charms was there with Union and she was powering everyone to new heights, and Mark never really got tired, anyway. And maybe Charms liked having a fourth in the class? Everyone else certainly did.

    Mark didn¡¯t get to talk to Svea, or Raoul, or Jacob. Not really. Small words were said here and there, yeah. But whenever two people were sitting on the sidelines together, Charms often told them to watch and not speak too loudly. Getting to know each other would come later.

    The club dispersed long after it should have.

    Raoul ran down the hall, late for class, turning back only to wave, saying, ¡°At the bar we decided, yeah!¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Yeah! Black Chess. 7 pm.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the one!¡± Raoul ran faster.

    ¡°See you later!¡± Jacob called as he rushed along with Raoul.

    Svea was dead tired and dripping with sweat as she nursed the water fountain outside of the sparring room. She looked up and said, ¡°Later, Mark. Nice to meet you. Welcome¡ª¡± She caught her breath again. ¡°Welcome to the club.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Thanks for welcoming me.¡±

    Charms told Mark, ¡°Walk with me.¡±

    Mark gave one final look toward Svea but Charms was already walking the other way. Mark caught up and walked with the very half-giant woman. There were a few other people in the halls, but not many.

    Charms said, ¡°Citadel Freyala is the pinnacle of Freyala¡¯s church, as are all the Citadels for all other gods. As such, there are rules to govern us all, and spheres of interaction which differ from place to place. The three primary spheres are military, civilian, and religious. You are technically part of the military branch, with a slight overlap with the religious branch.

    ¡°In the military, you speak clearly and make sure others interact with you in a true manner. No more lying about your capabilities in any space where your abilities will be tested, Mark. Do you understand?¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Why did you lie?¡±

    That was less easy to answer. ¡°¡­ Because I hoped for good things by interacting with Addashield and it ended up¡­ how it ended up.¡±

    Technically, Mark had achieved that. He had gotten the ¡®good outcome¡¯, for Addashield was 98% ¡®in charge¡¯ of the dragon he had made with his demon. But it didn¡¯t feel like the ¡®good outcome¡¯ at all.

    Charms glanced down and to the side at Mark. She nodded a little, looking forward. ¡°Fair enough.¡± She continued, ¡°To continue: Is a military mindset how you want to interact with others? You are technically a prisoner here. I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯ve been told, but I researched your case when you signed up for my class. You don¡¯t have to be in the military sphere.

    ¡°You could be in the civilian sphere, which would make you a normal resident of the place. Go to movies. Requisition stuff for your room in the academy, like couches or better beds, or televisions, and have parties with new friends. There are clubs that are social clubs. There is a lot to do as an adult that was barred to you as a child. You will find that beyond the Curtain, outside of fundamentalist nations, life opens up a lot. But, if you interact in those civilian spheres, you should interact how you tried to interact back there, hiding yourself. Military life requires open communication. Civilian life requires hiding some of the time.

    ¡°Do you want to be military, or civilian?¡±

    Mark wondered about that word ¡®fundamentalist¡¯ but he didn¡¯t have much trouble answering the question, ¡°Military¡­ But I was warned about¡­ tri-Talents being used.¡±

    Charms nodded, satisfied with that answer. ¡°I bet you were. It¡¯s a good warning when dealing with nobles, or other such people. A military interaction would merely expect you to do what you can do, without reservation or hiding. It is a good life for those who dislike the idea of hiding.¡± She stopped by the large, open doors leading north out of the coliseum building.

    Mark stopped with her. Other people were walking in and out of the space.

    Charms said to Mark, ¡°The religious sphere crosses all boundaries. If you want relief from your pain, healing that is more than physical, and purpose in life, I suggest you take Freyala¡¯s hand to help you out of the dark that you have found yourself in. She helped me a great deal through my own darkness. With her, you can talk about anything. She will always be there for you, if you but reach out your hand.

    ¡°I do not want you to tell me about your choices. Just think about them.

    ¡°You did well today. Usually I have to give a lot more instruction to my crops of students, but the club I have at the moment is all well-versed in the art of combat. You simply need more actual combat. That pleases me.

    ¡°Dismissed.¡±

    Mark stood straight and then gave a small bow, saying, ¡°Thank you for the instruction, Instructor Charms.¡±

    Charms nodded.

    Mark walked away, out of the coliseum, into the light of the day, feeling¡­ Lighter, really.

    He checked on his phone¡ª

    25 minutes to Healing Club. Shit!

    Mark ran to the dorms to take a shower, and then over to Healing Hall.

    Instructor Charms¡¯ words echoed in his mind every now and then.

 037

    Mark stopped rushing to simply walk into the room at the end of the hallway on the second floor of Healing Hall, room 217.

    And Mark paused.

    The overall setup was a private tutoring room with a bookshelf to one side, a large window overlooking the grounds straight ahead, and a table and chairs butted up against the remaining wall. A clock hung over the window, reading 10:29. Mark was 1 minute early.

    He was the only one here.

    Checking his phone, Mark saw that, yes, this was the right room. Was he the only one signed up for Healing Club 101, for people with Union? Er¡­ He couldn¡¯t be, right? Who was the professor, anyway? Er. Not named yet? Err...

    Mark walked into the empty room and sat down.

    He waited¡ª

    Lola stepped into the doorway, wearing her usual prim and proper priestess robes, cut in the Xerkona style. It was rather a lot like a kimono, actually. Ah! Right! She had offered to teach him!

    Mark shot to his feet. ¡°Priestess Lola!¡±

    Lola smiled softly, giving a small bow. ¡°Quite right, Mark. And you¡¯re here for Healing Club 101 for Union users.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯m a bit confused?¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure where to start. ¡°I thought it wasn¡¯t a¡­ a private club?¡±

    Lola easily said, ¡°Let us sit.¡± She went to a chair and sat, and Mark took the other chair. ¡°There are two forms of Union in the world. One is the one granted through the Chosen system, from Freyala to her followers. That is an entirely different club than the Union club that you are in right now, which is for people who come to Union on their own, though no one really comes to Union on their own, you understand. I imbued it into you, and you got the full Talent. The one Freyala grants people still demands study, but the original Talent is so much more difficult.

    ¡°This was why I offered to teach you about this.¡±

    Mark sat back in his chair. ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°It means you have a much longer path ahead of you than Freyala¡¯s Chosen, but also a much shorter instruction path, for what you learn on your own will be more than what anyone can truly teach another person. Furthermore, I do not actually possess the Union Power. I am an instrument of Freyala¡¯s will and she has granted me full use of the power, but I cannot do what she can do.

    ¡°What you might be able to do, one day.

    ¡°Tell me: What do you think Union does?¡±

    Mark knew a little bit about Union from simply growing up in the world and having gone to Freyala healing houses in Orange City, and inferring a lot of what he saw here and there, but he had grown up behind the Curtain, like all kids of Earth. So he was pretty damned unsure of everything.

    Mark said, ¡°Healing people, protecting them, and that¡¯s pretty much all I know of Freyala¡¯s stories. She cleansed plagues, so¡­ widespread healing? I feel like I don¡¯t really know anything at all, anymore. I didn¡¯t know what Freyala¡¯s power was called until now¡­ but I know they didn¡¯t call it Union¡ª they just called it divine healing, without any specific name¡­¡± He realized yet another thing. ¡°But that was on purpose.¡±

    ¡°Yes; it was on purpose. The name ¡®Union¡¯, much like the Talents of many famous people, is mostly kept out of writing, unless you go looking for it specifically.¡±

    Mark huffed a laugh. Everyone knew what Freyala¡¯s power was actually called, huh? He asked, ¡°What is Glorious Man¡¯s Talent called?¡±

    ¡°Supreme Body.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Holy crap I didn¡¯t expect you to have an actual answer.¡±

    Lola grinned a little, then she put that away. ¡°It might not be ¡®Supreme Body¡¯, but researching these things is rather simple if you know where to look, and ¡®Supreme Body¡¯ is rather the accepted name for Glorious Man¡¯s specific Power, even though the man himself is rightfully evasive about such things. When you get to the top you have billions of eyes on you, and even a fraction of people interested in such things means that someone will uncover the truth eventually.

    ¡°Specifically with Glorious Man, his Talent has been seen before, a few times throughout Daihoon¡¯s history, and that is where we get that name from.¡± Lola added, ¡°That, and Glorious Man¡¯s rise through the ranks of the Crystal Tower¡¯s Japan division, back when he was still called Renjiru Furusawa, has his Talent on the records there. His military history is sealed now, of course, but it wasn¡¯t always.¡±

    Mark felt a little floored. ¡°Wow. Okay.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re getting off track,¡± Lola said.

    Mark sat up straight.

    Lola said, ¡°The primary powers of Union are best used for healing and protection, and also corruption and weakening. We will be focusing on healing. Corruption and weakening are the powers of the Inquisitors of Freyala, and we will not be talking about those, though you should be able to put together how those work from what I explain about healing.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Wait¡­ Corruption and weakening?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I will show you how to use your power positively. For most of these applications of Union the ¡®badness¡¯ is a side effect; not the purpose. You could make the ¡®badness¡¯ the purpose, just as an Inquisitor does, but you will have to figure that out yourself.¡± Lola added, ¡°Mind you, active power use on another, outside of accepted actions, is grounds for discipline. Experimenting on animals is also not acceptable. In a month, I will tell you to try some of this stuff on very small trees, and such. Not before then.¡±

    Mark instantly said, ¡°Of course, of¡­ of course.¡±

    Using Talents on other people?

    Did people actually do that¡ª

    Oh. Well. There was that Villain Program that they did in some of the higher tier cities, but that was basically just sparring with people. Mark didn¡¯t consider that ¡®using talents on other people¡¯, though.

    Lola nodded. ¡°The first lesson is breathing. I heard that you already had this lesson with Holy Mother Juila Garin, but we will be healing actual wounds today.¡±

    Mark had put together a few things based on what he had seen of Freyala¡¯s healing, since coming here to the Citadel, and especially since Lola removed the adamantium from his body through ¡®breathing for him.¡¯ But he had still kinda thought that the High Priestess¡¯s ¡®lesson¡¯ on breathing was just a meditative thing.

    Mark was rapidly reevaluating that idea, though.

    The first part of Union truly was breathing¡­ But that felt incorrect?

    Lola noticed Mark¡¯s uncertainty. ¡°But I see you have questions?¡±

    ¡°Is breathing really how this works?¡±

    ¡°Not at all, but it is what I will be teaching you.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh! Well. Okay.¡±

    Lola gave a polite grin, and then said, ¡°Breathe with me, in and out, in and out.¡± She breathed in deeply.

    Mark breathed in deeply.

    For a brief moment, Mark saw, more than felt, as their breathing was separate¡ª

    And then Lola matched Mark, and the two of them breathed together.

    Mark had no idea what he was feeling, or seeing, or the weirdness he was sensing between them, but after several breaths, Mark understood that he was in a¡­ a low area?

    No!

    A groove.

    Lola was making a groove in the world, and Mark was following along in the track she was carving. They were a Union of breathing, with Lola as the lead bike in a race, and Mark following along in the pocket of air behind her. Or maybe like she was the lead duck in a V formation in the sky, and Mark was trailing on her wings. It was easier to breathe with her, than it was to breathe outside of her actions¡ª

    And then the moment was gone, and Lola took a sharp inhale of breath when Mark was only halfway through his own. She finished the bike race before him, getting full of air, and Mark was way too far behind to catch up. The moment broke.

    Lola separated their actions.

    Mark breathed on his own.

    Lola grinned a little.

    ¡°That was Union?¡±

    ¡°Yes. A rather noticed example of it, because I was trying to make it noticed, but most applications of this Power go unnoticed. You¡¯ve been to a healing house, yes?¡±

    Mark connected a few dots like a flash of lightning.

    The healing houses all had healing rooms. You went into the room, stayed for a while, and you exited healed. Mark had never felt what happened in those rooms at all, but he had gotten cuts, bruises, and even a fractured bone, healed by just going into those rooms and waiting around for a while.

    ¡°Behind the one-way mirror!¡± Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s where the healers would sit and breathe with the people in the waiting rooms, wasn¡¯t it.¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Correct. Now that you know that is how it works,¡± Lola said, taking out a small knife from a pocket in her kimono, ¡°We will begin with a small application of active healing.¡± She dipped the knife into the meat of her open palm and then she set the knife in front of Mark. Her palm welled with blood. ¡°Watch me, and then we''ll talk, and then you will do the same to your own palm.¡±

    Lola breathed in, her chest expanding, and then she breathed out, and the cut on her palm slipped a little shut, a scar appearing along the edges of the fresh wound. Mark wondered what else was going to happen. She breathed again and as she exhaled the wound closed up entirely, leaving just a spot of blood that had collected on her open palm, and a trail leading to a scar.

    She breathed in and out again, and this time the scar vanished, her skin tightening up and then loosening to a perfectly normal palm, but with blood on it.

    Surprisingly, she breathed again, and this time she blew onto her bloody palm, and the blood flowed away into the air, like dust vanishing into nothing at all.

    Lola held up a healed, clean hand, and said, ¡°That was about as fast as a healer wants to go with this sort of healing because there are many things that can go wrong with this.

    ¡°The first lesson is to connect to the world with your breath, to breathe in the good, and breathe out the bad. Do NOT focus on anything other than the ideas of ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯.

    ¡°The second lesson is this one, here and now, to actually heal yourself.

    ¡°Do not attempt to focus your healing on anything in particular, until you grow stronger and more knowledgeable about what it means to heal. Set aside all manner of ideas of bones needing calcium to grow, or blood needing iron to move oxygen, or even ideas of oxygen and carbon dioxide. Focus, entirely, on the idea of ¡®breathing in the good¡¯ and ¡®breathing out the bad¡¯.

    ¡°Too many students go way too complicated with this to start, because there is a lot of efficiency to be had if you know what you are doing. But you, Mark, do not know what you are doing. So start slow, and small, and only use your breathing to connect to the world, to yourself, to start.

    ¡°The third lesson will be healing others, and we¡¯ll get to that some other day, in a few weeks.

    ¡°Pick up the knife.¡±

    Mark paused for a moment¡­ ¡°I¡¯m not going to have a weird activation like with kinesis, am I? It¡¯s not going to knock me out?¡±

    ¡°You activated Union with the Holy Mother when you visited her. I believe you activated your Healthy Body when you went running yesterday. There should be no strange activations.¡± Lola added, ¡°Apologies; your movements are being tracked.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh. Okay! Well¡­ Sure. Uh. Is Healthy Body going to interfere with this?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You¡¯ll learn to work around it. I imagine your ability to heal others will be vastly improved from a baseline person¡¯s abilities. We get lots of brawnies in here, as you can imagine, and they always make the best sorts of healers because they have extra depths of ¡®good¡¯ that they can share with others,¡± Lola said. ¡°But that¡¯s a lesson for another day. For now, cut yourself on your palm. It is a very sharp knife. Shouldn¡¯t be too painful.¡±

    ¡­ Mark picked up the knife, and¡­ Well. He held it to his left palm, and he¡­ He froze.

    And then he breathed, focused, and poked the knife into his hand.

    It was a very sharp knife.

    Mark pulled the knife out, having barely felt it go in. It hadn¡¯t gone in deep at all, but¡ª Oop! There¡¯s the sting. Ouch. Okay. Mark set his pain aside as much as he could, and then he breathed in and out. He stared at his hand, and he breathed.

    In with the good, out with the bad.

    In with the good, out with the bad.

    In wi¡ª

    His wound itched a little as it started to close!

    Mark smiled¡ª

    ¡°Keep going,¡± Lola said, also watching.

    Mark breathed in and out, and what was maybe 15 breaths later, or maybe something like a minute and a half later, his wound was gone and so was the scar. The blood was still there¡ª

    Lola pulled a tissue out of the box on the table, handing it to him, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t try to do more than this right now. We¡¯ll go over cleansing breath another day, far from today.¡±

    Mark cleaned up the blood.

    Lola said, ¡°Some suggestions: The amount of air you breathe in and out correlates to how much you heal. You were breathing maybe at 70% capacity. That is a good amount for general applications, but you were trying to actively heal, so I want you to do it again and this time breathe in and out fully. We¡¯ll practice short and constant breathing methods later. Perhaps you will find you can use one method better than the other, but for now, do it again, in and out all the way.¡±

    Mark stabbed himself with the knife again. It was easier the second time. A good minute and a half later, with only 11 breaths, Mark¡¯s fresh cut was gone and he wiped up the blood with a tissue. Mark smiled wide to see his healed hand, saying, ¡°That¡¯s amazing.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you got the basic hand of it. That¡¯s good. I estimate that if you didn¡¯t have Healthy Body then you¡¯d have to do an extra 10% breathing. Healing the cut on your hand would have taken you 12 or 13 deep breaths to fully achieve, instead of 11. You¡¯ll get better with time and experimentation.

    ¡°As for that experimentation, I have some warnings.

    ¡°Do not breathe with anyone else.

    ¡°Do not take in the bad and expel the good.

    ¡°Do not focus on anything besides basic healing, for now.

    ¡°Do not breathe in confined spaces that have no ventilation. Smoke is especially bad for this technique, but you can get through most of that problem by rolling up your shirt and breathing through it, using it as a filter for the smoke.¡± Lola said, ¡°Now repeat that to me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to breathe with anyone else, don¡¯t reverse the flow, don¡¯t get specific, and always breathe in a ventilated area.¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°Very good. Now let us continue. We¡¯ll go until you can¡¯t heal anymore, and then I¡¯ll finish healing you, and then we¡¯ll go to the full scan room and you can get a private readout of your Power Level. It should be a few numbers higher in each category now that you are Fully Awake.¡± She gestured at the knife. ¡°Now stab yourself again. Meat of the palm. If you don¡¯t like that, then you can slice on the top of your forearm. Put your arm onto the table if you want to do your forearm, so that I can clean up the blood more easily. Let¡¯s not get any on the floor if we can help it.¡±

    Mark chose to put his arm on the table, to slice on top of his forearm, for damaging his hands seemed like a really bad thing to do, in general. The knife slipped through the meat of his arm like a pizza slicer; fast and mostly thorough. It took a moment for the pain to happen. That was when Mark realized he couldn¡¯t move his middle finger. Mark''s eyes went wide as he looked at the five inch cut in his flesh, as blood slipped out, onto the table.

    His arm spurted.

    ¡°Oh shit. I went too dee¡ª¡±

    ¡°Breathe, Mark,¡± Lola said, putting tissues down to slow the spread of blood, like surrounding a house fire with a moat. ¡°You¡¯re fine. Just breathe.¡±

    Mark started breathing on purpose. A good five minutes later, with blood on the table sticking his arm to the wood, Mark looked down at his perfectly healed flesh. He lifted his arm out of the mess and looked at it, flexing his fingers and feeling¡­ great? Just fine?

    ¡°It¡¯s good?¡± Mark asked, but even as he asked that it felt weird to move his fingers. ¡°Or not?¡±

    Lola put down a few more tissues, wiping the side of the table where some blood threatened to fall down, as she said, ¡°You have some lingering damage. Continue breathing with purpose.¡±

    Mark did so.

    Lola set down a few more tissues, her hands bloody now, as she asked, ¡°Has anyone talked to you about the various magical metals?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mark said, ¡°I heard of them¡­ You know. Before. But that¡¯s about it.¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°Have you heard of the tiers yet? And how they are used for injury calculations? It¡¯s usually on the second day of Introduction, but you might have fainted before that.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Never got that far.¡±

    Lola thought for a second, and then said, ¡°Power Levels and tiers are important to know in a general sort of way, but also not really. Did you ever hear about how adamantium is tier 7, when you spoke with Addashield, or anyone else?¡±

    Mark was suddenly unmoored at the mention of ¡®Addashield¡¯¡­ And then he came back. ¡°Yeah. I think I heard that.¡±

    Lola paused, and then she asked, ¡°How about the mohs hardness scale for gems?¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°I used to collect rocks. I stopped when I was 16 but I had a whole collection¡­¡± Mark stopped talking.

    His collection was gone.

    Blasted away by nuclear fi¡ª

    ¡°Glad you know about it!¡± Lola said, her voice insistent and ripping Mark back to the present. ¡°You know how a piece of glass can¡¯t scratch a diamond, but diamonds easily cut glass? That¡¯s what the tiers mean. Tier level actually goes from 0 to 100, but that is the Power Level rating. People usually just use ¡®tier¡¯ to indicate something like... Tier 2 is actually between 20 and 29 PL. As you increase in the correct tier, it will be harder to cut you with baser metals, but metal will always have an easier time hurting you because you are still made of flesh.

    ¡°Adamantium is naturally a tier 7 material, with a mostly physical form, so its rating is mostly compared against the rating of the Body number. Adamantium is also Kinetic and Arch¡­ But that is complicated, and not necessary to know for now.

    ¡°Adamantium is really a 079 on the Power Level scale that goes to 100. The scale ends at 100; just as diamond is ranked 10 on the Mohs hardness, astral bodies can only get up to 100.

    ¡°You can only increase in tier by working against harder and harder enemies, or harder problems for your power. Unless your astral body is stressed, it cannot grow.

    ¡°This, by the way, is why you are completely incapable of handling adamantium right now. Adamantium is PL 079. You¡¯re at, what, 004? 005? Whatever the case, you¡¯ll get there eventually. You have a clearer path to power than most. Once you¡¯re strong enough to actually pick up that weapon and train with it¡­¡± Lola thought for a second, and then she said, ¡°I¡¯ll stop there with that. It¡¯s not something you have to worry about too much. Power levels aren¡¯t everything, after all. They¡¯re just¡­

    ¡°Well. We use adamantium swords against kaiju because kaiju bodies are all at Power Level 95-ish, and you need a hard material to even begin to affect them. That, or a whole lot of power. A hammer made of glass might shatter a diamond just as much as the careful application of pressure from another diamond.

    ¡°Anything at Power Level 50 or above will begin to affect a kaiju¡¯s astral body alongside its physical body and¡­

    ¡°It gets very complicated, very fast, with number-versus-number calculations and all sorts of things going on behind the scenes. Kaiju battles are a quality game just as much as they¡¯re a quantity game. You don¡¯t have to worry about that right now. I¡¯m just telling you now so you can keep it in mind. People want you to be able to battle kaiju in the future, Mark.¡± Lola asked, ¡°Is that something you want, too?¡±

    Mark was enthralled to hear all of that, though he was pretty sure he didn¡¯t understand some of it. Even so, Mark strongly said, ¡°I want that more than anything.¡±

    And he always had.

    If anything, he wanted that capability more than ever.

    Maybe not to kill Addashield¡¯s dragon, not yet, not before he proves himself as a horror to the world, but Mark would definitely never allow himself to be vulnerable like that around someone like that ever again.

    Lola nodded. And then she gestured at the knife. ¡°That¡¯s a mithril knife. Tier 6. Power Level 065, if you want to get technical, but anything more than a 10s classification is kinda obsolete out in the field. If you¡¯re within a tier or two of an enemy then you¡¯re good to go for basic tactics¡­ Hmm. For you, that is true. I have seen how you train¡­¡± Lola paused. ¡°I don¡¯t want to give you any weird ideas about the true concerns of battles against monsters, so I will leave it there.¡± She grabbed a small wastebasket and swept the bloody tissues into the basket.

    Mark watched her do that, like she had done it a hundred times before. ¡°Should I get¡­ uh? A towel?¡±

    ¡°Unnecessary.¡± Lola started putting down more tissues, saying, ¡°You¡¯ll have replaced your blood through your healing breath, so don¡¯t worry too much about blood loss, but try not to cut up your veins that much. You would have died of blood loss had you not healed yourself. Aim for the meat, not the spaces between the meat.¡±

    Mark felt himself pale.

    With deadly seriousness, Lola said, ¡°Yes. This is dangerous. I will add another rule to this training: Do not practice like this on your own. I¡¯ll show you easier ways to practice later.¡± With an easier tone, Lola tapped the table as she said, ¡°Knife up! Again.¡±

 038

    Most of the mess was already in the basket, the bloody tissues looking like someone had done some amateur butchery. Some tissues remained on the table. It had been a good half an hour of breathing, until something ephemeral gave way inside Mark and he was fine to breathe, but nothing was changing in his wounds. He had hit his limit.

    His ¡®astral fortitude¡¯ was expended, and likely for a good ten minutes, at least.

    ¡°Only ten minutes, though?¡± Mark asked.

    ¡°Think of Union like this: If you run at as quick of pace as you can, how long of a down time do you need to recover so you can start walking, and then how long do you need before you can run? Other powers might have smaller or larger down times, but Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and especially Union, will always go the distance, Mark, and especially when you get stronger with them.¡±

    Mark smiled at that.

    And then Lola breathed for him, sealing up his wounds.

    Mark rubbed his arm as Lola breathed across the table next, turning blood into dust that scattered on the air, becoming nothing at all. Lola blew against her hands, and all the drops of blood on her fingers and on her dress evaporated.

    Mark watched, saying, ¡°Neat trick. Reminds me of¡ª¡± He stopped suddenly. He was about to say ¡®Mom¡¯s cleanse magic¡¯, but the words stuck in his throat. He tried, ¡°Didn¡¯t know Union could do¡­ Other magics.¡±

    ¡°Union can do a lot. I will tell you how to do this someday far in the future,¡± Lola said, smiling. With an easy countenance, she plucked out the plastic liner of the trash bag and tied it up, as she stood, saying, ¡°Let¡¯s go get your Power Level readout.¡±

    Lola led the way, dumping the trash into a chute in the wall, labeled ¡®incinerator¡¯.

    - - - -

    The scanning machine was pretty simple. Mark was glad that it wasn¡¯t in a big scanning room, like the one where he had first met Addashield. Instead, it was a silver plate on the floor, a silver plate on the ceiling, and the whole thing existed in a room about the size of a closet.

    Lola asked, ¡°Ever used one of these?¡±

    ¡°Not as such¡­ no,¡± Mark said, looking into the small room.

    ¡°You just go inside and stand on the plate. The lights light up and there¡¯s a projection in the air, and you can choose to get a printout if you want.¡± Lola pointed to a slot in the wall, to the side of the silver disks. ¡°That¡¯s where the printout comes from. Everything is holotouch.¡±

    Mark nodded and¡­ walked into the small room.

    Lola shut the sliding door and the lights went on in the room at the same time.

    The silver disks glowed gentle gold.

    Mark took a small breath and then stepped onto the silver disks¡ª

    The air chimed and then chimed again. Numbers appeared rather quickly.

    Body, Healthy Body: 005

    Shaper, Adamantium: 005

    Mind: 1

    Natural, Union: 005

    Soul: 1

    Arch: 1

    ¡°¡­ Huh,¡± Mark said.

    He was pretty sure Malaqua had given him a readout like 2, 4, ~, ~, 3, ~, the first time.

    So this was good, right? The numbers were higher? A lot higher, actually. Probably pretty low compared to others, but this was good?

    Yeah sure. This was good! Always good to track progress.

    And all the base numbers were at 1 instead of a ~, too.

    For a brief moment, Mark felt anchored.

    He loved progress.

    This meant that he was getting¡­ Somewhere. Mark wasn¡¯t sure where that ¡®somewhere¡¯ was, but he was getting closer to it. Mark brushed away the numbers in the air as he stepped off of the platform. The numbers went away, and the lights dimmed.

    Mark opened the door, looked to Lola, and asked, ¡°When will I be able to fully use my power?¡±

    ¡°Adamantiumkinesis needs you at Power Level 80 to fully use it. That will happen within several months. It will happen sooner, if you go to the Vault and pick up that adamantium and stress your astral body by trying to pick it up. Union is an SS Rank Talent. Learning and using Union properly is the work of a lifetime. Expect to reach 100 in Union. Healthy Body will Power Level up to 20-ish without much need to stress it in about 2 months.¡±

    100 in Union! Holy crap!

    Mark smiled at that. ¡°Are there work release programs, or something? You must have ways for people to get experience out in the wilds fighting monsters? I want to do that.¡±

    Lola took a moment, and then she spoke diplomatically, ¡°I think we can arrange something like that. However, Orissa and David are overseeing your actual case and would have something more definitive to say one way or the other. For now¡­ I would speak of other ways for you to practice healing outside of these dangerous lessons. I¡¯ve sent you some homework through COFR. You can do that on your own time, and we¡¯ll have another lesson in a week, or sooner, if you wish. I expect you will be very busy, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ Sure.¡± And then Mark realized he was addressing his teacher, and also the woman who had given him Union in the first place. Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. He stepped all the way out of the room and bowed, saying, ¡°Thank you for the instruction!¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Lola did a tiny bend at the knees, saying, ¡°Raise your head, Mark.¡±

    Mark did so.

    Lola looked upon him with care. ¡°You are set for greatness, but this talk of hunting monsters already worries me. You must train more, raising your skill and capability, lest you die to the weakest of monsters. They¡¯re tougher than you think they are. Usually, we don¡¯t send anyone out with less than 10 in Body. That¡¯s the bare minimum to not get your throat ripped out by a baby goblin¡¯s passing claw swipe, or parts of your body consumed by the mere touch of a slime. You¡¯ll still get a nasty cut and your skin will still boil off, but you won¡¯t suffer a catastrophic injury.

    ¡°For people with your Talents¡­ Well. I¡¯m not sure what the conventional wisdom would be regarding that, but you should stay in safety until you reach 20 in Body, since you have an actual Body Power, and you have previously expressed a desire to be a frontliner.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Okay. I can¡­ I can do that. I guess?¡±

    ¡°Good. You should also learn how to passively breathe in the good and expel the bad at all hours of your life, and especially when you¡¯re exercising. This is so that you can exercise more strongly, and eventually run it all the time in the field, when you are out there. Eventually, you will be running the Talent full time, never turning it off, and learning how to actively ensure that even miasma-based attacks cannot be used against you.

    ¡°Longer term plans include learning your way around nobility and kids your own age.¡± Lola said, ¡°I cannot stress this enough, Mark, and perhaps it is too early to be thinking about these things, but people like you don¡¯t get as much recovery time as you should have. You¡¯re a tri-Talent, with a high synergy and a high minimum floor level of expected power. Most people cap out at tier 4, unable to safely pursue higher power. Imagine if you were just a Healthy Body. Most Healthy Bodies only make it to tier 2. You will go so much higher than that.

    ¡°You will also be pursued as soon as you leave the Citadel, and probably while you¡¯re here, too. I suggest you take Xerkona Etiquette classes, or the club, when you can. Maybe in a few months. The club is basically high class parties every weekend, hosted by various noble families.¡±

    That was a lot.

    Mark¡¯s head swam, as he did what he thought he needed to do, and he bowed to Lola again, saying, ¡°Thank¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stand up, Mark.¡±

    ¡­ Mark stood up.

    Lola looked him in the eyes. ¡°I want you to be strong.¡±

    Mark went still.

    ¡°That is where my instruction comes from; not from me trying to be your instructor. Don¡¯t bow to every professor or person in authority, and especially don¡¯t bow to me. I put you in a coma, Mark. No matter what happened afterward, I still wronged you. I wronged the world by not¡­ If you hadn¡¯t ended up in that coma, maybe¡­ I failed so many duties.¡± Lola turned distant, vanishing behind propriety. ¡°I owe you a great deal of recompense, and do not deserve your obsequiousness.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t feel that way at all¡­¡± Mark fell silent.

    Lola did not respond.

    ¡°I guess it¡¯s complicated,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Most things are.¡±

    A moment passed.

    Lola said, ¡°I am sorry for your losses. I don¡¯t believe I have said that yet. Or maybe I have. I forget. I am sorry. How you chose to approach a dishonorable situation with highest honors is laudable in ways few people ever are. I am sorry things turned out this way.¡±

    Mark teared up but he did not break down. Softly, he said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you next week, Mark. Your homework should cover a lot of small ways for improvement. Please do the lessons. Please do not purposely injure yourself outside of supervision. It was good to see you again, Mark.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    There was a silent moment.

    Mark walked away.

    - - - -

    Inside of his bedroom, Mark read over the breathing exercises.

    The exercises went from simple to complicated fast.

    Breathe while running; 30 minutes. Sure. Easy enough. Mark was kinda tired from all this morning and then the hour of breathing exercises, though, so he would leave this for later today.

    Breathe while fighting. He¡¯d have to leave that one for tomorrow at sparring club in the morning.

    Feel the breath in your lungs connect to the spirit of the world itself with each push and pull of your existence. Mark wasn¡¯t even sure where to start with this one. He tried opening his lungs to the world and breathing in and out and nothing felt different at all. Was he doing something wrong? Maybe he needed to be in other locations than simply his bedroom in order to ¡®feel the spirit of the world¡¯. He had no idea how ¡®push and pull of your existence¡¯ related to breathing, though. Perhaps Mark needed to go out onto the grassy hills outside and try this? Maybe tomorrow.

    What does ¡®good¡¯ mean in the context of breath? What does ¡®bad¡¯ mean in the context of breath? Can you imagine truly good things? How about truly bad things?

    ¡­ All of that was a mental hurdle to overcome. Something Mark would need to think about. All the rest of the list was even more complicated.

    Do trees breathe? Well yeah, but not like people.

    Are you breathing with your lungs, or your aura? The lungs¡­ but was he?

    Can you breathe with the ground? Err...

    Can you breathe with the wind, and does the wind work for, or against your efforts? Uhh.

    Mark ended up crashed out on his bed for ten minutes as he tried to wrap his head around all of these weird ideas¡ª

    ¡°And also the weird idea that Union isn¡¯t even about breathing at all!¡± Mark exclaimed to himself, staring at his ceiling. ¡°Union-through-breathing is just how Freyala does it¡­ To start? I guess?¡± Mark thought. He asked himself, ¡°Union is really just about sharing¡­ something¡­ with something else, right? I mean. It¡¯s in the name, right? ¡®Union¡¯.¡±

    Mark stared at the ceiling and thought for a while.

    And then he went and got lunch.

    By the time he got back to the room he had another plan.

    Mark opened his phone and started searching for classes of all sorts. He needed more magical education. Just¡­ Just general stuff, really. In all sorts of ways. How does magic work? How do astral bodies work? Mark rapidly discovered that there were lots of options, but most of them were for graduate studies, and he was not eligible for them at all. He¡¯d need to go to college, first.

    There were lots of options for basic education, though.

    ¡°Okay. Well¡­ Maybe¡­ ¡®Understanding Curtain Protocol¡¯ seems useful? And maybe¡­ Maybe Etiquette Club¡ª Err¡­ Not that one. Not yet¡­ But this one¡­?¡±

    Mark had no desire to play dress up with nobles or noble-adjacent people right now, but there were lots of other options available.

    A few signups later and Mark was good to go for Understanding Curtain Protocol, Geography and History of the Two Worlds, and Xerkona Culture. All of them were classes, which meant classroom time, but it also meant books. After his signups, Citadel of Freyala Resources pinged Mark with a message that his books were available for pickup at the local bookstore, and to please keep them in good condition because they would be used by whoever came after him.

    All of those options were rotating classes, though, because everyone came off of Tutorial at different times. So Mark would be doing most of his learning for those courses on his own, and then he would join the actual class later. If he wanted more school-like learning, then that was not done here, at Citadel Freyala.

    Mark started his studies on World History¡ª

    The first warning in the texts was to take Understanding Curtain Protocol before attempting World History.

    ¡°¡­ Well okay then.¡±

    So that is what Mark did.

 039

    By the time evening rolled around, Mark was pissed at the world again and ready to talk to people about it, so he was very ready for this ¡®get together at Black Chess¡¯.

    This was his first real time walking throughout Citadel, though, so he was a bit distracted by that.

    The Citadel of Freyala was divided into a few different parts, sort of like a sliced-up cake, with the center carved out for its own purposes. Central Citadel was actually off-center, toward the southwest. Mark roomed in the dorms further southwest, in Building 5 of 20-ish total. Healing Hall and most of the ¡®academy¡¯ was nearer Central Citadel, though only some people called it ¡®the academy¡¯.

    The technical name was the Ecclesiastical Centers of Freyala.

    People just took classes and clubs in that area. There was an actual Academy Freyala, located in southern France. That place was an arcanaeum and university both. Here at the Citadel they just had practical clubs and classes to help people with introductions to the world beyond Tutorial, or to help them in their active choices to become adults. This was a ¡®starter zone¡¯ of rest and military might, and people choosing where they wanted to go from here.

    The Curtain wasn¡¯t enforced here at the Citadel. All information was open for all to see and know, to make choices about where they¡¯d go, now that they knew more about the real world.

    It was mainly a place of powers, of recruiting, and of life decisions. Many of the classes were overseen by volunteers in the faith, which could either mean paladins on downtime, on recovery, or noble houses that had people that wanted to teach (and recruit).

    And so, Citadel had everything. There was a coliseum on the north side where exhibition matches were held on the main field. The east-ish side of Citadel was all residential and religious; mostly noble houses and shrines and the like. Between the academy area and the coliseum, to the far west, lay the air field.

    The actual center of Citadel was all business and nightlife and recreation.

    Trams ran pretty much all the time between the various centers, and through them, too. Almost no one had cars but there were some out there, especially hovercars. The Citadel was pretty average for most walled cities in the world. Maybe 40 kilometers in diameter? Something like that.

    Mark got off of the tram at the southwest side of the city center. Black Chess was a bar for students, located far from the academy and at the other side of the city center. Mark could have taken a tram closer, but he wanted to walk through the center of Citadel Freyala.

    It took Mark half an hour of walking to get to his destination, which was okay by him. It was nice to walk through a big city, because he had never been allowed into places like this back home. Back in Orange City, this sort of place would have been called ¡®the Hero Quarter¡¯, and kids were strictly not allowed.

    Mark understood now why he wasn¡¯t allowed here as a kid, and that understanding pissed him off. Or maybe that was just his background feeling these days. How long would that last? Forever? Maybe.

    Mark watched a waiter at a restaurant set down food between a man and a woman. That food glowed with mana. Literally. The steak was bright, like a white spotlight was on it, while the veggies and potatoes were green and yellow. It was mana food, and, based on the color, the steak probably fortified everything, because it was white, while the veggies and potatoes fortified Kinetic and Mind, because of the green and yellow hues to them.

    Even the smell was magical, and it made Mark feel stronger, somehow, just to smell it. Eating it would probably grant a whole host of special enhancements.

    A lot of the people at the restaurant were eating things like that, and the restaurant¡¯s name was ¡®A Colorful Feast¡¯, so maybe they hyped up the whole color theory of astral bodies? Through Talents? Or preparation? Mark didn¡¯t know. The price tags on the menu by the door told him that he could not afford to eat here, though.

    25,000gl for a steak dinner. Who had that much goldleaf to spend on food? No one!

    ¡­ But apparently a lot of people did.

    Over there was a gadget shop with signs that read about deals on astral shields. ¡®15% off on all our tier 2 shielding stock! Guaranteed to boost all aspects to at least 20!¡¯ That was impressive. Mark did not understand exactly how impressive it was until he thought about it for a little bit, though. Curtain Protocol would have denied him all understanding.

    If Mark were to put on one of those shields, his scores in Body, Shaper (sometimes people said ¡®Kinetic¡¯), Mind, Natural (sometimes people said ¡®Spiritual¡¯), Arcane, and Arch, would all be Power Level 20, meaning he would have a tier 2 level of astral body resistance against all incoming attacks, as if he had a 20 in those attributes. That wouldn¡¯t do shit for his ability to use his own Powers, but it would allow him to shrug off a goblin¡¯s claws, which had damage ratings of between 0 and 10 for most of them.

    At 20 Power Level, skin was still skin, but against a PL 0-10 set of claws, the goblin would have to get lucky or have very sharp claws in order to do anything against his skin.

    Power Level wasn¡¯t the end-all-be-all of deciding factors in a fight, but it was a very good start.

    A book shop over there was called ¡®Intro Books¡¯. It was a small bookshop. Reading any of the books in there at all would have caused a mana baptism, for sure. They had a sign out front that said as much.

    Coming to any of these places as a kid would have assuredly done a number of things to his astral body, which meant Awakening him early. Most of those possible outcomes were the development of a Knack, or a Knowing. The lowest of innate magical powers. Incredibly random, too. Having one would knock Mark out of the chance for Tutorial and almost all of them were simply¡­ bad.

    Everyone knew a kid growing up who ignored the warning of adults and sought knowledge he should have not sought. For Mark, that kid was Tim Shanks. A former best friend.

    Tim, Sally, and Mark. Three inseparable kids growing up on Gladegrove near-ish to each other. They met in kindergarten.

    In middle school, Tim tried to get them all to go into the Hero''s Quarter when Glorious Man was supposed to be there, to see him give a speech about something. Mark couldn¡¯t recall what the speech would have been about. Thinking about it, that speech might have been about Red Thunder and Mistress Storm¡¯s first flyby. But anyway. Sally and Mark didn¡¯t want to go and get saddled with a Knack. They had heard the horror stories of kids going to the Hero''s Quarter and Awakening to a Knack. Or worse. A mana baptism that killed them, turning them into monsters, though that was pretty rare, actually. Overhyped, according to what Mark now knew.

    Mark walked through the ¡®Hero''s Quarter¡¯ of Citadel Freyala, spotting all the kids with their parents. They were probably born in high-magic households, so they were already ¡®flavored¡¯ to start, and thus not incredibly vulnerable to outside magical forces. Or else their parents had made the decisions to give their kids Knacks and forgo the dangers of Tutorial altogether.

    Tim had been raised like Mark and Sally; with parents who never did any magic anywhere near them. Within-sight-of, sure, but not actually near them.

    Tim had had no such protections when he went to see Glorious Man¡¯s speech.

    He managed to sneak into the Hero''s Quarter rather easily, too, which Mark and Sally had never understood. Mark and Sally had told each other that the people in the Hero''s Quarter would see the kid and stop him from entering. That¡¯s what their own parents had told them all the time. ¡®There¡¯s no reason to go anywhere near it. The guards will stop you at the entrance.¡¯

    But there was no entrance here, at Citadel, to Citadel¡¯s ¡®Hero¡¯s Quarter¡¯.

    Mark doubted there were entrances at Orange City¡¯s Hero¡¯s Quarter, either. Mark knew there was just a street, named Hero¡¯s Street, that crossed from one side of the city to the other, and that to go beyond that street was to be put in danger. Mom and Dad had told him never to go anywhere near it, and Mark never did. Sally never did, either.

    Tim went across Hero¡¯s Street, and straight into Hero¡¯s Quarter, to see Glorious Man¡¯s speech.

    And yeah. There hadn¡¯t been any guards. Only the barest of checkpoints. Tim had gotten in and then gone to see Glorious Man¡¯s speech, and in the middle of the speech, he had gotten a message from Malaqua, disbarring him from Tutorial. Tim had gotten a mana baptism without even knowing it.

    He got a Knack. He was able to distinguish colors by looking at them. Great eyesight, too! But the Knack was just a Knack.

    Tim couldn¡¯t be their friend after he Awoke.

    Mark walked through the night life of Central Citadel, and wondered what sort of Knack or Knowing he would have gotten if he had followed Tim. Mark had stopped himself from thinking those thoughts back in middle school, back when Tim had to move away. But he let those thoughts come to him now.

    Mark walked in a vaguely angry daze toward Black Chess.

    It was a nice-ish place. Big black chess pieces on the sign, ringed in purple neon, and young people at wooden tables, drinking wine or beer and talking. The walls were wooden and the lighting was ample. A bowl of condoms sat by the entrance and the music was soft techno, which was perfect for talking closely with others.

    Mark¡¯s vague unhappiness with the world, with himself, with the day, came to a rapid head.

    Social anxiety roared in his mind.

    Mark turned and walked¡ª

    ¡°Hey! There he is!¡± Raoul¡¯s voice came to Mark from behind.

    Mark froze.

    ¡°Yo, man!¡± Jacob¡¯s voice said, also behind Mark.

    Mark was stuck.

    He pushed down everything anti-social and turned with a small smile, saying, ¡°Hi¡­¡± And then his voice kinda just stopped.

    Raoul was there with Jacob, both of them wearing acolyte white. Svea stood up from a table, smiling brightly, in some grey clothes. And there were two other people there in sand-brown; outsiders to the Church, but still welcome, and probably poor or new to this life, just like Mark.

    Raoul smiled and grabbed Mark in a half-hug, pulling him inward to the table, saying, ¡°We¡¯re glad you showed up!¡±

    Jacob punched Mark¡¯s shoulder in a friendly sort of way, saying, ¡°You¡¯re late!¡±

    Mark was very, very thankful for how friendly Jacob and Raoul were. For a moment, it felt like Mark was back on the field with the rugby guys.

    Raoul pulled away from Mark, gesturing to the other two people at the table. One was a guy with skin so dark it was nearly black, and the other was a woman of vaguely lighter skin. They looked almost like brother and sister. Raoul named them, ¡°Pako and Nala Shehu, brother and sister.¡± And then he named Mark, ¡°Mark!¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t have time to feel awkward.

    Pako instantly said, ¡°I want to buy you a beer, Mark.¡±

    Did they know who he was? Yeah, they did. Look at those eyes, and that caution. They knew Mark was Mark Careed. Mark didn¡¯t need to be super empathic to know what he was seeing. With that mystery solved, Mark was left wondering why anyone would want to buy him a beer.

    Mark blurted out, ¡°Why?¡±

    Pako happily said, ¡°Because you deserve it!¡±

    ¡°And I will buy the next one,¡± Nala said.

    Mark was suddenly on edge. ¡°Why?¡±

    Pako¡¯s face was solid as he said, ¡°Because it sucks to be used like that.¡±

    Nala said, ¡°That¡¯s why Pako and I are not going into the military. Staying as far away from those pricks as we can.¡±

    Svea added, ¡°They¡¯re not the only ones. I want to stay here long enough to satisfy grandfather and Freyala, and then I am leaving to join the Slayers. If I never have to follow orders ever again, I will be happy.¡±

    ¡°Freyala is okay,¡± Raoul said, ¡°But I will not be going back to Spain.¡±

    Jacob said, ¡°I heard they had mandatory service in your neck of the world, Mark. We have that in South Africa, too. Unless a miracle of Freyala happens, then I plan to serve a year to become a full citizen and then leave for Daihoon.¡±

    The talk at sparring club today had been light. Probably because they were being overseen by Instructor Charms the whole time, and she didn¡¯t allow for much chatter anyway. If a person could talk, then they could get out there and fight; that is what she said more than a few times.

    But this was deep stuff, and fast.

    They all just¡­ just laid that out there, and now here was Mark, feeling unmoored.

    Mark felt a weirdness burble up. ¡°Yeah¡­ Yeah it¡­ It really fucking does suck to be used by archmages.¡±

    Pako asked, ¡°So how about that beer, Mark?¡±

    Mark felt more weirdness. He huffed a small noise that might have been a laugh, if one were exceedingly charitable. He sat down. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s try it.¡±

    Pako grinned, and then he got up, and teased, ¡°You¡¯re a lightweight, yes? No beer for kids in America?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take a 12% ABV anything,¡± Mark said. ¡°They have it that strong here, right?¡±

    Pako chuckled and he went to the bar.

    Ah. Mark had not meant to make a joke, but he would take it!

    Nala leaned toward softly saying, ¡°It goes up to 25% for high-brawnies.¡±

    Mark chuckled¡ª And then he lost his chuckle as he remembered what he was mad about before, and what he wanted to talk with Svea, Jacob, and Raoul about. He said, ¡°I just found out today that over half of Earth doesn¡¯t do the Curtain! And that I grew up in a fundamentalist nation! ECU is fucking nuts about the Curtain. Gods!¡±

    Maybe it wasn¡¯t that simple, but the starter information for his Understanding Curtain Protocol class had had some strange statistics.

    Jacob grinned and Raoul laughed. Nala chuckled.

    Svea spoke with a fresh hatred of her own, ¡°And if you would have been even the least bit exposed in the womb, you would have been born with an astral resistance, like they have on Daihoon.¡±

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°Yes!¡±

    Svea said, ¡°Whatever your mother had, even if it was shitty, you would have been primed to develop later in life. You could learn about magic and be around adults with magic like a normal kid and not be doomed to Awaken as a Brawny, or primed to mana baptize with something shit through accidental learning.¡±

    Mark said again, ¡°Yes!¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± Nala said.

    Svea rolled her eyes.

    ¡°How is it not that simple?¡± Mark asked.

    Nala gestured to Pako, walking back with a very tall beer. ¡°Our mother is a summoner. She made sure we were exposed to that magic in the womb, even though the village elders didn¡¯t approve. We could have been born monsters.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°But that¡¯s so rare, though. One in a million?¡±

    There were some ambivalent looks.

    Nala said, ¡°It was a danger either way, to be born with powers behind the Curtain.¡±

    Pako said, ¡°Ah! We are talking of the Curtain then?¡± He handed Mark his drink, with a smile. ¡°Congrats on learning that the powers-that-be are shit.¡±

    ¡­ And on that note.

    Mark waterfalled the beer. It took half a minute.

    Everyone watched as he did that, and as he got near the end, Pako laughed and Nala clapped, as Svea reminded Nala that she had the next one, yes? Nala got a round for the table, and Jacob started to talk of his time under the Curtain.

    ¡°I had one friend actually monsterize!¡± Jacob said, as he held onto a new beer from Nala.

    ¡°No!¡± Svea said, scandalized.

    Mark almost said the same thing, also scandalized. ¡°No way.¡±

    Jacob nodded. ¡°I only ever saw him on weekends, when his parents were home from work and when they could watch him. It was some sort of play date that our parents organized. His name was Ivan and his people were from Russia and they do the Curtain even crazier over there, you know.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t actually know that, but everyone else nodded.

    Jacob continued, ¡°It was a failure on¡­ on so many levels. Something happened on the wall at the Cape of Good Hope. Nightgoblins got into the city. Some went undetected and they got into the waterways. I was playing with Ivan by the lake¡ª Small lake. No dangers usually¡ª and then there was a goblin. It came out of the water and bit Ivan, clean through his entire right arm... and¡­ And that was it. He was already dead in that simple touch. The goblin dragged him into the water and let him bloat while it protected his body... Gods, it was so fucking horrible. Ivan was still alive when it was happening. He was dead, but he was alive. He became a few goblins. The official count was 3, but I saw at least 6. That¡¯s probably just a kid¡¯s recollection, though. I still have nightmares.¡± Jacob was having trouble talking, but he powered through. ¡°Ivan had no astral body at all. A complete baseline. No resistance. The infestation took him over and then the burbling started. I was lucky. I had no astral body either. I was a meter further from the water. Ivan went closer to the water to¡­ to get something. I can¡¯t even remember what it was.¡± He breathed. He said, ¡°And that was when I was 8.¡±

    Everyone drank.

    In a distant, insistent way, Mark felt that Jacob¡¯s story wasn¡¯t really a story about a mana baptism turning a person into a monster, and yet¡­ Goblins turned people into monsters; this much Mark knew. Outside of the Tutorial, a natural goblin was as dangerous to a community as any mimic infestation.

    ¡­ So maybe the bite of a goblin was a mana baptism, and Mark had just never understood that before today.

    Something began to click in Mark¡¯s mind.

    Exposure to magic often resulted in mana baptisms. Did a goblin¡¯s mana count? Maybe. That would explain why Lola had talked about them not letting people out into the wilds to fight monsters until they had a Body of 20, for frontliners, and 10 for everyone else¡ª

    Mark said, ¡°Oh holy shit. A goblin¡¯s attack really is just a mana baptism, isn¡¯t it? The ¡®Talent¡¯ it Awakens is ¡®goblin¡¯. You need to be Awakened to a 10 in Body to survive that?¡±

    As if Mark had said the most natural thing in the world, Jacob said, ¡°It¡¯s something I¡¯m studying, but I don¡¯t really know yet. ¡®Yes¡¯, is the simple answer. Monsters are much more careless with their mana than people.¡± He added, ¡°I do know that even a 1 in Body can make you live long enough to get to a healer to remove any sort of basic monster infection, but any sort of existing astral body at all would have saved Ivan. The goblin bit through his entire arm. Blood flowed freely, and so did the infected saliva. Most of the infection would have flushed away with the bite. Daihoon kids have 2 in everything due to womb imbuement. If we were raised like they do over there then Ivan would be alive today.¡±

    Mark wondered if that was true, though. The part about Ivan still being alive. If the monster hadn¡¯t gotten a victim, then they would have attacked more to get what they wanted. Both Ivan and Jacob might have died.

    Mark did not speak of that, though.

    Everyone took another drink.

    Pako said, ¡°Goblins are the worst ones. I can handle wolves and monkeys, but the corruptor goblins are horrific.¡±

    ¡°Corrupter goblins?¡± Mark asked. ¡°There¡¯s a difference?¡±

    But Svea exclaimed, loud and disbelieving, ¡°You can ¡®handle monkeys¡¯?? In the trees! I would just die¡ª Wait. Do you not have slinkers in Nigeria?¡±

    Mark tried to think if they meant anything specific by wolves or monkeys. He knew the general monster classifications, but not any specific ones, and ¡®wolf¡¯ and ¡®monkey¡¯ were two general categories; ¡®Fast moving dog-like land animal¡¯ and ¡®tree dweller¡¯. Some people used ¡®wolf¡¯ and ¡®dog¡¯ interchangeably. Dealing with land animals was difficult, but wolf-types were one of the most common types, and everyone had to train with the idea of killing those types. Monkeys were easier, in that you could usually stay away from trees and be fine. A ¡®dog¡¯ that could attack and hide up above was called a ¡®cat¡¯. Cat-shaped monsters were dangerous monsters. Goblins were technically ¡®cats¡¯, in that sense.

    Svea absolutely meant something specific by saying ¡®slinker¡¯, though.

    Jacob answered Mark¡¯s question, though, saying, ¡°A corrupter goblin is any strong-transform goblin. Nightgoblins are a classification of that. Not all corruptor goblins are nightgoblins.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Ah.¡±

    Pako was drinking, so Nala asked Svea, ¡°No? What are Slinkers?¡±

    Svea nodded; she understood something now. ¡°Slinkers are a European monster, mostly. They camo against a tree like a very large stickbug.¡±

    Raoul said, ¡°Very dangerous. We have them in Spain, too.¡±

    Jacob, Pako, and Nala didn¡¯t know what they were. Mark didn¡¯t either.

    Svea said, ¡°We got tens of varieties in Germany; all over Europe and parts of Russia, too. Never go into the woods outside of the city, and if you do, only stay in the places where they keep the bottom 2 meters of trees bare of branches. That is where you might be safe. Slinkers look like branches, you see. If you see branches on a tree below the 2 meter mark then you know you are looking at a slinker. They are easy to see and kill in maintained woods or if you have a woodswitch with you, but never go into a strange forest outside of city walls in Europe.¡± She leaned forward, a little drunk. ¡°And we are in Europe right now.¡±

    It was all so serious and deadly and maybe Mark was a little tipsy, that the whole thing suddenly felt like telling ghost stories. He laughed. Raoul laughed in response to that, and soon the whole table was laughing.

    Svea was offended, ¡°I am not lying!¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Sorry! It just sounds like ghost stories!¡±

    Svea said, ¡°Monkey monsters are the worst. Do not disregard them as simple.¡± She asked Pako, ¡°Tell me how you would ¡®handle monkeys¡¯¡ª Ah shiza. I know.¡± She groaned, and then pressed a hand to her head. ¡°You unfair Naturals. You can just do your magic.¡±

    Pako chuckled. ¡°I would simply cut all the branches down and a few trees too, if I had to.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Mark asked.

    Nala rolled her eyes at her brother. Jacob grinned, Raoul drank, and Svea looked pissed.

    Pako smiled brightly and held up a hand and summoned a dagger from nothing. It floated there in his hand. He twirled it around telekinetically, spinning it, twisting it, and then he shattered it into motes of metal-grey light. ¡°I am a Sword Summoner! The best type of summoner. You and Nala are supremely jealous.¡±

    Mark instantly laughed, and he wasn¡¯t the only one.

    Nala said to her brother, ¡°My golems last more than one attack, you one-shot wonder.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m working on it!¡± Pako said, grinning. He told Mark, ¡°I can cut through small trees right now. I hope to be able to cut through large trees soon.¡±

    Mark grinned a little. ¡°That¡¯s a good Talent.¡±

    And then something weird happened in the group.

    People looked at each other a little bit. They went contemplative.

    Pako looked ready for an inquisition.

    Svea began the inquisition. ¡°What¡¯s your attack range?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what that meant.

    Pako said, ¡°Up to 15 right now. I¡¯m tier 1.¡±

    Ah. They were talking about the ability to injure things directly with Talents, based on Power Levels versus Power Levels.

    Svea said, ¡°I¡¯m not tier 1 yet. I can only hit 10s with my bolts. More if the target is weak to an element I can utilize. Fire against plants, light against dark.¡±

    Jacob, ¡°Still tier 0 here, but Sound Kinetic is never going to be useful for direct injury unless I break tier 5¡ª when I break tier 5. Confusion is simple, though, and can hit through all tiers relatively easily.¡±

    Nala said, ¡°Tier 1 golem summoner. Power based on materials, and earth is PL 0 or 1. Mostly 0. My golems use swarm tactics to pile onto small monsters and smother them. I am not sure how I will progress higher than just making bigger golems.¡±

    Pako said, ¡°Dirt in Daihoon is PL 2 to 5. That will make up enough difference for most things.¡±

    ¡°Not really, but I will grow faster when we can go there,¡± Nala said.

    Raoul said, ¡°Still tier 0 here, but I can hex monsters to be weaker to everything. That is most of what I do. I hope to be on kaiju teams someday¡­¡± For a moment he looked hopeful, and then he crashed. ¡°But that is probably a dream. Affecting a whole kaiju? Ha!¡±

    Mark said without reservation, ¡°I¡¯m going to murder dragons someday.¡± He added, ¡°Demons and Fallen and all of them and¡ª And I don¡¯t know how, or any specifics... But that is my goal¡­ Still tier 0, though.¡±

    They looked at him and they knew nothing of Mark¡¯s conviction.

    Not exactly. In small, unknown ways, they knew. In larger ways, they did not. They tried to reach out, anyway.

    Pako was serious as he said, ¡°What they made you do was beyond the call of duty.¡±

    Mark saw nods and otherwise.

    He gave no indication of anything, himself.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he was feeling.

    Svea was quietly furious at something unknown, before she said, ¡°I Awakened as a Mage and they won¡¯t teach me anything without contracts making me beholden to them. I¡¯m not going back. I can learn magic on my own if I have to.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. A real Mage! The path for them was supposed to be long, but they were the ones that most often became archmages¡­ But now that Mark thought of it, he wondered if ¡®Mage¡¯ was based on Arcane, or on Arch. What was the connection between Mage and ¡®Archmage¡¯? No one Awakened as an Archmage, right¡ª

    No wait. Mark knew the answer here.

    ¡®Mage¡¯ was an Arcane Talent. Archmages were only archmages because they Contracted to Demons. It was probably a lot more complicated than that, though, but that was the basic division between a mage and archmage.

    Jacob said, ¡°The purpose of those contracts is to tie you to humanity, Svea.¡±

    It was a statement that was a lot deeper than it appeared to be, and it already appeared to be pretty damned deep, according to the expressions on the faces of the others.

    Svea said, ¡°I¡¯ll have connections. I¡¯m not going to be some crazy person out living in a tower, blasting beasts that come round and making them into dinner¡­¡± She frowned. ¡°Though that does have a sort of appeal.¡±

    Raoul snorted. Svea looked only partially offended.

    Jacob grinned. ¡°I heard monster cows are delicious.¡±

    Nala said, ¡°It is! Have you never tried it?¡±

    Svea said, ¡°Death to all monsters, so that we can eat them!¡±

    Raoul laughed at that. Mark felt his heart lighten, and he smiled.

    Pako raised a glass, ¡°Death to all monsters!¡±

    They all cheered, ¡°Death to all monsters!¡±

    Mark tried to get piss drunk after that, because apparently beer was free for all freshly-Awakened, and COFR had marked all of Mark¡¯s group as freshly-Awakened even before he walked into Black Chess.

    With a cheerful accusation, and not feeling even tipsy, Mark scoffed at Pako and said, ¡°You offered to buy me a beer but you didn¡¯t pay for it!¡±

    They all laughed, and Pako especially.

    Pako said, ¡°I¡¯ll buy you one someday, I am sure!¡±

    Mark just laughed at that, then he got more beer. Healthy Body did a lot to combat poisons like alcohol, apparently. The guys made fun of him for that; he was going to be an expensive drunk, they said. It was fun to talk to them. It was great to set aside the problems of life and just meet new people.

    Mark¡¯s social anxiety was nearly non-existent, for some reason.

    As night truly fell and the world turned dark, the music in the bar turned louder.

    It was a good night.

    Time flew, and soon it was 11 pm, and most of the other groups had disbanded. It was time for their group to disband, too. Mark said his ¡®nice to meet you¡¯s and ¡®farewell¡¯s, and then he began the walk back to his room in Building 5. Others went other directions, with Pako and Nala headed off to the residential part of Citadel and Raoul, Jacob, and Svea, walking with Mark for a short ways, toward the academy area. They hopped on a tram together, and they talked about this and that on the way back to the academy. When they got off at their stops, they went their separate ways.

    Soon, Mark was alone, walking at midnight, under shining stars and the lights of night guard. Citadel didn¡¯t sleep, after all. Lights still stayed on in most places, banishing the dark as much as they could. Monsters still needed to be fended off, and especially in the dark.

    That was when Mark realized that the entire get-together at Black Chess had been an interview.

    A group interview.

    Mark breathed in deep, absorbing the fact that he was being scouted by others, and that lives and teams were being put together. That¡¯s what Black Chess was all about. That¡¯s why all those people had been there¡­ Well. That, and sex, Mark was pretty sure. This was the time in a young Awakened-person¡¯s life when their whole world opened up before them, and if they wanted to fight the good fight, they needed a team.

    Why did they need teams?

    Because it was safer that way; that was the traditional reason. It was a true reason, sure. But it was half of the story. The other half was more concrete, and it had to do with astral bodies. Every person had Talents along certain directions. Mark had a Body, Shaper, and Natural Talent. So, at his most basic nature, Mark was naturally resistant to those categories, or at least he would be. He would only really have Shaper and Natural-type attacks, though, but only if he could ever lift adamantium or learn offensive breathing.

    But monsters could be of any category at all, which meant that they might attack in any sorts of ways, and be vulnerable to any other sort of power that wasn¡¯t their own.

    So you needed a team in order to not come up against something that would absolutely body you; you had to count on friends.

    Even with 3 Talents, Mark knew he could never go it alone. He would always be a bit vulnerable to Mind, Arcane, and Arch powers. Most people, with only one Talent, were incredibly vulnerable to the category directly across from their Talent, from their main focus of their astral body.

    Body was vulnerable to Natural, and also the other way around. Kinetic was vulnerable to Arcane. Mind was vulnerable to Arch.

    And so Mark needed a team, just like everyone else his age.

    The only people who didn¡¯t need teams were archmages with their demons.

    Mark would never get a demon, though, and he hoped Svea didn¡¯t, either. Would she be a good teammate? Maybe. She was an Arcane, which was one of Mark¡¯s vulnerabilities that he needed to cover¡ª

    Mark stopped in his tracks. Holy shit! That entire night had been a gigantic interview, and Mark needed to make decisions for the entire rest of his life¡­

    Oh wait.

    A building pressure suddenly snapped.

    A social weight fell to the side.

    Mark was under observation by the Paladins of Freyala.

    For at least 6 months.

    Maybe a year.

    Ah.

    No team selection right now.

    ¡­ Huh!

    It was still nice to meet new people.

    That made all of that a whole lot easier, didn¡¯t it? Mark smiled a bit as he resumed walking.

    If he was stuck here for a year, then he didn¡¯t need to make any decisions regarding teammates. Most people just went with organization-organized teammates for the first year, anyway. Svea had talked about the Slayers as her preferred organization, but Mark had no idea who they were. Jacob and Raoul were going into the Paladins of Freyala, if they could. Same for Pako and Nala. Whatever the case, and unless they found anyone they truly wanted to party with, they¡¯d probably all get shoved into COFR-assigned groups that would match Talents to skills in the best possible way¡­ Or maybe Freyala made the groups herself?

    Mark didn¡¯t know about any of that.

    Besides! He still wanted to party with Sally¡­

    ¡­ Would Sally want to party with him?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Could two brawnies work together well? Or was that a detriment? Mark wasn¡¯t really a brawny, even if he did have a Body Talent, but now that he was thinking about it¡­ Earth produced a lot of brawnies, didn¡¯t it? Where did they all go? Into teams? Because that would mean a whole lot of duplicate¡­

    Oh wait.

    They just turned into soldiers on the walls. Right. Mark knew that. The brawnies got on the walls and then manned the guns or whatever, using their bodies to kill monsters that probably killed them just as much. Mark imagined a Natural-type monster just¡­ just running through the wall guard of a city, killing everyone they touched, until a brawny got a lucky blow against them and splatted the monster across the wall.

    Fuck, that¡¯s a depressing thought.

    Under the starlight sky, Mark walked to his dorm.

 040 - Different Perspectives

    Raoul lay in bed, holding onto Jacob, smiling in the aftermath.

    Jacob said, ¡°He¡¯s too far above us.¡±

    Raoul scrunched his face. ¡°Who¡ª Oh. Mark? Totally. Still nice to know him, though. Total downer, but that¡¯s to be expected.¡±

    Jacob slapped Raoul¡¯s chest, but he kept his head there. ¡°Rude.¡±

    Raoul chuckled. ¡°We¡¯re going with a COFR assignment anyway. If we¡¯re lucky we might get him in our party, but I doubt it. He¡¯s still under that¡­ Inquisition Watch, or whatever.¡±

    Jacob sat up, smiling.

    Raoul looked up at him. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You and I are partying, right?¡±

    Raoul¡¯s heart beat hard. ¡°Yeah. I want to. You want to?¡±

    Jacob grinned softly. ¡°I hadn¡¯t actually asked yet¡­ I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re in a party together, for sure. A Kinetic and a Natural is a very good start.¡±

    Jacob scoffed.

    Raoul smiled as he added, ¡°But most importantly, you¡¯re cute.¡±

    Jacob laughed.

    - - - -

    Svea sat on the edge of the diving pool, all the water glowing and all the night dark and starry. She wasn¡¯t the only one at the pool, for the night guard was up and Citadel Freyala never slept, even more than most places in the world. Svea loved the night life. She loved seeing the hovercars take off like dots in the night, and watching them circle Citadel beyond the wall; on patrol and guarding humanity. She loved knowing that someone was awake while she slept.

    She was going to transfer her status to night guard.

    Yes.

    She had made the decision, just now. She was going to do it.

    She hadn¡¯t been sure of it before, but that team selection at Black Chess cleared up a lot of lingering doubts.

    All of those guys were daytimers. Svea stayed up late and woke up later, and she¡¯d much rather just live at night, like 10% of the population tried to live. That¡¯s why she was so scared of monkey-type monsters. Trees were fucking terrifying at night. Even with the night-vision magic she was learning, it was still terrifying to be under big trees out in the forests beyond the walls. Years ago, Svea had been on a camping trip with her parents beyond the wall, in a safe part of the world, but it had not been safe at all.

    It was never safe out there, and it was worse at night.

    So Svea would just stay up at night from now on.

    Since she didn¡¯t want future complications from conflicting schedules, it was time to go to the night shift right now. She¡¯d still go to sparring 101 in the morning, though. That was early enough. It would be her last stop of the ¡®day¡¯. All of her classes had night guard versions, though, and with less people in them. Maybe she¡¯d even get better contracts from the night guard than the ones the day guard had offered her for magical training.

    Svea spent the entire night awake for what might have been the hundredth time in her life.

    She loved it.

    - - - -

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Inside their family mansion, in the great hall, Pako knelt on the plush purple carpet in front of Grandmother.

    Nala knelt beside him.

    Both of them sought refuge in audacity tonight, and their audacity had been proven correct, no matter what COFR had told Grandmother on that golden-glowing phone she held in her hand. They had met Mark and had a good night! And then they had come home and been summoned the very second they stepped back onto household grounds.

    Grandmother had been waiting for them like a spectre in her blue-flowered nightgown, holding onto her cane with one hand and the glowing golden phone with the other, as she stood in the great hall.

    Grandmother frowned at both of them.

    She would make them sit in silence as she glared at them for a little while longer, but probably not too long. They hadn¡¯t done anything disastrous. Just ill-advised.

    Grandmother tapped her cane on the carpet, the thud of it breaking the silence of the grand hall. ¡°I do not appreciate official correspondence from Holy Mother Julia Garin telling me to control my family, and to stay far away from an official investigation.¡±

    Oh.

    That was bad.

    Pako started to sweat.

    Nala didn¡¯t fare much better.

    Grandmother told them, ¡°It would not be such a bad thing, what you did, if you had come at Mark honestly. The outcome was done well. But you circled Svea, securing an invitation to a potential team selection meeting you had no part in attending, to meet with the tri-Talent who is under demonic investigation, and you spoke of dishonor to the military to make him see you as something of kin. This is too much. Even if it was a good night, it is too much.¡±

    Pako and Nala both kowtowed at the same time. ¡°We are sorry, Grandmother.¡±

    ¡°Pray that the cousins don¡¯t hear of you tarnishing our military¡­¡± Grandmother sighed. ¡°Tell me how it went, but first, tell me why those three children even decided to have a team selection meeting so early. It might be understandable for those three to speak to that boy about being a team this early, for they knew he would be taken from them and they had to strike, but why did you strike now? That is the problem I have. He will be here for half a year! Maybe a full year. Rise and speak. Nala; you first.¡±

    They both straightened.

    Nala said, ¡°After hearing his disposition from Svea, and knowing of Svea¡¯s trouble with gaining arcane knowledge, we knew we had to strike. We gave her a small tome and spoke of futures¡­ and some minor events happened and we ended up getting an invitation, since we already knew both Raoul and Jacob.¡±

    An abbreviated tale, for sure. But abbreviations were fine. The minutia didn¡¯t matter much to Grandmother.

    Grandmother looked at Pako. ¡°What did you hope to gain by approaching him now?¡±

    Pako easily said, ¡°A long term contact. Something to come to fruition in years. We won¡¯t be sticking around at Citadel for more than a few more weeks, anyway. We had to go now, or nevermore.¡±

    Grandmother huffed. ¡°You have three days to pledge yourself to Freyala, to secure the highest ranks of Chosen Power possible. You will be leaving Citadel for our Okuana embassy in a week. You will not interfere in any more demonic investigations and you will stay away from Mark Careed. If he should seek you out, you will tell him the truth of your family, if he should ask.¡±

    Pako wanted to rail against the need to serve, but he knew he had overstepped his bounds already.

    Nala crushed down her own rage.

    Pako and Nala kowtowed. ¡°Yes, Grandmother.¡±

    ¡°Raise your heads.¡± Grandmother looked upon them as kindly as she could allow, and said, ¡°That boy will either go far, or fall hard. Pray he learns to accept the things he cannot change, because Addashield¡¯s dragon is already acting to bring forth an age of peace to Both Worlds. He¡¯s up to 2,500 kilograms of adamantium gifted to most large nations in the Two Worlds, 12 lesser dragons killed, 3 dragons killed, and 34 long-problematic kaijus eliminated. He even killed the Eater and gave us an ocean wall, like at Orange City. Four hours ago this happened. He was there and then gone! Too fast. A hundred kilometers of wall, done in an hour! He only requested a kinder outlook to him than what he has been getting elsewhere.¡±

    Pako and Nala both went wide-eyed. Nala even gasped.

    An ocean wall?

    ¡°Yes,¡± Grandmother said, ¡°The Niger Delta has been expanded in ways we never considered possible. We do not believe it is a trap, but we are wary. Either way, all the world is changing, children. When Mark finds out that the world is going to crown him a hero for his sacrifices, and anoint that dragon an ally of humanity, Mark will either take it well, or poorly. House Shehu will not be involved in that. With any luck, the boy will be a footnote in history, though I doubt a tri-Talent could ever be a footnote.¡±

    Pako¡¯s heart beat hard. This much had happened already? How fast was Addashield¡¯s dragon moving? Too fast! Way too fast! And the response from the world? To accept these gifts from the dragon?!

    Gifts from a High Dragon?!

    Impossible!

    Pako asked, declared, ¡°But Addashield¡¯s dragon is a High Dragon!¡±

    Nala breathed in deeply, agreeing with Pako, but saying nothing.

    Grandmother simply said, ¡°I am as surprised as you, but there are certain precedents. All of Daihoon used to live under dragonrule, after all. Some of them are still out there, and¡­¡±

    Pako¡¯s eyes were opened wide that night.

 041

    Mark sat with Svea to the side of the sparring room, while Jacob and Raoul fought and Instructor Charms watched.

    Svea said, ¡°I¡¯m switching to night guard.¡±

    Mark blinked a bit. ¡°You like living at night?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I do. Most monsters come out at night, and the competition among professional teams is just¡­ A lot less. I¡¯ve decided to go into the Slayers, too. Officially. I spent all last night doing that. They¡¯ll help me with spell forms.¡± Svea asked, ¡°How about you? You said you¡¯re stuck here for 8 months or something, right?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how long, but something like that, yeah. I haven¡¯t made any decisions at all, except to do class and club work.¡± Mark looked away, saying, ¡°There¡¯s so much to learn.¡±

    Svea smiled. ¡°So much hidden! And not equally at all! If I would have been born on Daihoon I would already have ten spells to my name gained from ten neighbors, instead of just Elemental Bolt.¡±

    Mark honestly said, ¡°That sounds like a lot, but I have no basis for understanding that difficulty.¡±

    Svea paused, and then she laughed.

    Mark smiled. ¡°Really though! What is a ¡®spell¡¯?¡±

    Svea grinned. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ clipping off your astral body and throwing it. Forced seer-ing.¡±

    Mark instantly said, ¡°That can¡¯t be healthy.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not!¡± Svea said, still joyful.

    Mark looked at Raoul and Jacob spar, as he said, ¡°There¡¯s so much I never knew. It¡¯s hard to think about sometimes.¡±

    Svea strongly said, ¡°I hate thinking about all that, too! What was hidden! I love magic the more I learn, but every mage I talk to wants 10 years of contracted apprenticeship before they¡¯ll teach me anything good! Gods! It¡¯s no wonder people turn toward the demons where they can just learn everything...¡± She stopped. Her face turned bright red with embarrassment. She whispered, ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Mark smiled as he said, ¡°Demons and mages can be pretty bad, yeah.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah. Sorry. I kinda¡­ forgot who I was talking to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just some idiot who was used. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Svea said nothing for a long moment, and then she¡ª

    Instructor Charms said, ¡°You can do burpees if you can talk so much.¡±

    Svea shut her mouth.

    Mark just breathed.

    Soon, Raoul and Jacob finished, with Raoul winning and Jacob on the floor.

    Charms pitted Mark next against a tired Raoul.

    Raoul grunted as he squared up, sweat dripping.

    Jacob held up a hand as he laid on the ground, saying, ¡°He¡¯s not that tired, Mark! He¡¯s faking!¡±

    Raoul instantly shouted, ¡°Oh come on!¡± as he righted and stopped breathing nearly so hard.

    Mark grinned.

    Mark won that bout, and the next one with Svea.

    Later, after sparring club, Svea said to Mark, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about saying that¡­ demon stuff earlier.¡±

    Mark just smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¡­ But thanks.¡±

    Svea nodded, and then she went on, down the hall, to wherever she had to go next.

    - - - -

    Mark sat on a bench near a park, breathing, but not deliberately. Not yet. The trees were tall. A small, shallow lake held in front of him. The sun shone in the cloud-piled sky and shadows from the trees danced across the grasses at Mark¡¯s feet. A breeze tossed the canopies and rippled the water. Ducks quacked. It smelled of good, clean forest, and it was warm. It was the end of summer, and the world was beautiful.

    It was nice.

    For a moment, Mark looked up in the sky, at the clouds, and he imagined many things. Flying, most of all. He¡¯d be able to do something like that with adamantium, eventually. Not very high, though. Not without mechanical advantage. A lot of shapers flew with glider wings, and Mark was a shaper now¡­ or at least he would be, eventually.

    He¡¯d be flying up there, eventually.

    Mark thought back to the conversation with Svea, and then to his own hatred of what was hidden from him¡­

    And also to whatever the fuck was happening with Addashield.

    Mark had deliberately not looked at the news for the past 15-ish days, or however long it had been since¡­ Since all of that. It had probably been 20 days since Mom and Dad were murdered and incinerated. Mark wasn¡¯t sure of the timeline at all. Everything sort of blurred together¡ª

    A pair of guys were walking across the path to the side, one of them saw Mark and did a double take, and then he spoke to his friend who also looked at Mark and then both of them rapidly pretended to ignore Mark. One of them turned back and flashed a thumbs up, though, and then he kept walking.

    ¡­ So that was a first.

    Some stranger had just given him a thumbs up.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that. People had noticed him before, yeah. He was kinda tall and rather built, and it seemed like Healthy Body was doing a lot for him in that way, like any brawny-type Talent would do for anyone¡­ But that was the first time people actually noticed him. As in, they noticed that he was Mark Careed.

    And that was a thumbs up.

    Mark felt an anger rise.

    What possible reason could anyone have for giving him a thumbs up?!

    Mark had come out here to do some breathing exercises, but now he was fully focused on that damned thumbs up! He almost got off the bench and went to chase the guy down! The fuck?!

    ¡­ Mark ignored it and tried to think about anything else.

    He ended up thinking about his future, and what it all meant post-Addashield, since it seemed that everyone was thinking that Addashield was truly dead, so he couldn¡¯t really get his revenge, could he? If he tried to kill the dragon, then he¡¯d be going after revenge on something that ¡®wasn¡¯t actually Addashield¡¯, and that was donating so much shit to the people of Earth that humanity was buying into its shit¡ª

    Mark picked up his damned phone and started searching the web¡ª

    He didn¡¯t even get partway through the search before he stopped. He needed to stop. He didn¡¯t want to know about that asshole¡¯s reincarnation as a High Dragon.

    He breathed.

    Mark set down his phone and focused on his breathing exercises¡ª

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Mark opened his phone back up and asked, ¡°COFR? Please tell me what¡¯s happening with Addashield¡¯s Dragon, and what people are saying about me? Anything new? In the last few days?¡±

    The phone went from blue, white, and filled with a few student apps of various colors, to full golden glows.

    Citadel of Freyala Resources spoke in a feminine voice, ¡°Here are some relevant stories to match your queries.¡± A series of buttons with thumbnails popped up; links to the stories. And then COFR said, ¡°To summarize, Addashield¡¯s High Dragon has laid out plans for what he wishes to do to atone and then go further beyond that, to make him acceptable in the eyes of humanity. His largest contributions thus far are the creation of working bays for the nations of Nigeria of the African Unity, London of the Britain Nations, Orange City of the East Coast Union, and deterrent poles for various nations around the world, most of which are in the Northern Canadas.

    ¡°He has gifted a total of 2,750 kilograms of adamantium to various nations around the world, securing Earth¡¯s anti-kaiju weaponry reserves for the next 20 years.

    ¡°He has given speeches about what had happened back before he was Addashield¡¯s High Dragon, and how he apologizes for the actions of his father, condemns his mother, and thanks Mark Careed for being brave and strong and a Hero to Humanity, to help him be born as he was, so that he can undo the sins of his father as much as possible.

    ¡°He considers Mark Careed a brother, born in the fires of the same Tutorial, and if Mark should ever wish to air his grievances regarding Addashield¡¯s actions, Addashield¡¯s Dragon would hear those grievances and try to make up for the losses his parents caused. Addashield¡¯s Dragon has given the same offers to the remaining family of Yunthal Brightwind, and a few others, though he has not named those other people as direct family at all. No one has taken him up on those offers.¡±

    Mark¡¯s ears rang.

    He watched COFR flick through a few images of the dragon on the screen. There was Addashield¡¯s dragon, all silver and black and sized like a minor skyscraper, with black stripes and blacker spikes. He floated with wings spread wide as he constructed bay pillars, in the ocean, dropping millions of tons of permanent metal into pillar shapes that he inscribed with power. There he was with wings folded tight as he stood in front of a tiny podium, surrounded by drone cameras to record his speech, asking for forgiveness.

    And then COFR said, ¡°Based on the schedules he has posted, publicly, he has another month of desired fixes to Earth before he goes to Daihoon and begins to work there, if they will have him. It has been suggested that all of this is a ploy so that he can suddenly turn betrayer on Daihoon, at some opportune time, killing complacent and disarmed targets. The Collective Nations of Daihoon have responded that if Addashield¡¯s dragon appears anywhere near their lands, they will blow him out of the sky.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Considering the nations of Earth already tried that, we don¡¯t think the nations of Daihoon will be any more successful.

    ¡°The nations of Earth have moved on from a ¡®kill first¡¯ philosophy. They are choosing to reluctantly accept Addashield¡¯s High Dragon.

    ¡°Popular culture on Daihoon is already calling him the coming of a new god, though the governors and councils are denouncing that sort of talk as heavily as they can.¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing.

    A new god?

    The fuck?

    Mark stared at the screen, his voice breathless, ¡°¡­ What about Glorious Man and¡­ and the other archmages? The other superheroes? Nova Nexus? Timeweaver?¡±

    ¡°Unwilling to battle him at this time.¡±

    ¡°¡­ So Timeweaver tried, and failed?¡±

    ¡°I cannot speculate on this.¡±

    ¡°Nukes?¡±

    COFR fell silent.

    Nukes probably wouldn¡¯t work on him that much, really. Anti-nuke magic was one of the first ¡®new magics¡¯ the archmages developed in the Reveal in 1969, since nukes were used to kill many of the kaiju that came with the breaking of the Veil. Archmages could get nuked directly and just ignore the bombs¡­

    Mark asked, ¡°What is the best theoretical way to kill Addashield¡¯s Dragon?¡±

    ¡°A sufficiently powerful adamantiumkinetic would negate much of the dragon¡¯s innate lethality. From there, gaining a resistance to all forms of Power is the next step. Beyond that, a person would have to disrupt all of dragon society, to pit all of them against Addashield¡¯s High Dragon. Such a person would also need to also be an archmage, which means dealing with demons. Please note that working with demons and dragons is against humanity¡¯s best interests, as decided by all signers of the Humanity Accords of 1978, which includes the Church of Freyala. Such a person would need Daihoonian backing, where the Accords do not exist in their anti-demon, anti-dragon state, as they do here on Earth.¡±

    Mark stared at his phone, at the golden light of it all, not quite believing what he was hearing.

    Was COFR suggesting that Mark go¡­ go elsewhere, to get his revenge?

    ¡°¡­ I would have thought that Freyala would try to¡­ to tie me more strongly to her. To you. To her Citadel and her people. I did not expect you to tell me that I couldn¡¯t find what I needed here.¡±

    For a moment, the phone was simply gold.

    And then the feminine voice of COFR, seeming more human and more otherworldly at the same time, asked, ¡°What was your plan before all of this, Mark?¡±

    Mark suddenly felt he wasn¡¯t speaking to COFR at all.

    He knew it was important to be honest.

    Mark said, ¡°I planned to do a stint over in Daihoon at one of their expanding settlements, if I could swing it. Work with a team to help make a home base and to find my way to power by killing monsters and helping people. Maybe make a real home, if I liked the settlement enough. If it didn¡¯t work out in a few years I¡¯d come back home and get a normal job doing¡­ something.¡± Mark lost it at the end there. The original plan hadn¡¯t been too involved. Maybe he could have made a better plan, now that he was beyond the Curtain, but he hadn¡¯t really thought about the old plan at all. ¡°And that was it.¡±

    ¡°Do that. I am sure you will find good, positive outlets for your rage long before Addashield¡¯s Dragon becomes a problem. But for now, you must grow, and to grow, you must become one with the dance of the world, of good and bad, and yet, you must discover that there isn¡¯t anything truly good or bad at all,¡± Freyala said, ¡°All there is, is what we need right now and what we can¡¯t use, versus what other life needs right now and what they have in excess, and the dance between us all that balances the world.¡±

    The voice had not come from the phone at all. COFR was silent.

    The voice had come from the air itself. From the breeze.

    Mark breathed in, and then out. What he needed came to him in a golden wind.

    Mark felt lighter in that moment. Stronger. All the small aches from sparring were gone, and then some. Mark exhaled what he didn¡¯t need, which was all of his pain. A thin black smoke flowed out of his nostrils, smelling of death as it vanished on the wind.

    It was like taking a shot of espresso for the soul, or at least that¡¯s what Mark imagined it would feel like. He had tried coffee, but not espresso.

    Mark simply felt invigorated. Joyful, even.

    Looking up at the cloud-piled sky, where fluffy white towers stacked in the blue, Mark knew he would be flying one day, on his own power, like a real superhero. That day was not today. That goal was long term. Mark would need to be the person he needed to become in the meantime.

    Somehow it felt more real to have these thoughts now, as opposed to a few days ago when he finally came back to himself, thanks to Lola¡¯s words telling him it wasn¡¯t his fault. And it wasn¡¯t his fault. He actually believed that now.

    Mark had a plan now. It was the original plan, but filled with this detour at Citadel Freyala. They had lots of resources here, which made it a pretty good detour. Mark would use those resources, make some friends, and then go on to Daihoon and become a real hero.

    A superhero.

    Maybe then, people giving him a thumbs-up and a genuine smile wouldn¡¯t feel so weird.

    For what might have been a long while, Mark just watched the sky tumble upon itself, white mixing upon a blue background. He thought of Mom and Dad and their call to forgo revenge. He thought of High Priestess Julia Garin¡¯s similar words, said a lot less nicely, but no less kindly.

    Eventually, Mark came back to the moment.

    Mark flicked through his phone, to the homework that Lola had given him. He had come here to do breathing exercises, after all. When combined with what Freyala had said ¡ªbecause that golden wind had been her, for sure¡ª Mark reevaluated the homework¡­

    ¡°¡­ Huh.¡±

    From the ideas of ¡®breathing with the world¡¯ to ¡®do trees breathe?¡¯ to ¡®are you breathing with your lungs, or your aura?¡¯ Mark rapidly put together a picture of what was really going on beneath the surface of Union.

    He breathed out CO2 and he breathed in O2, and a bunch of other stuff along the way. The trees breathed all the time, Mark knew, but he couldn¡¯t really latch on to them¡­ For now? He wasn¡¯t supposed to try to breathe with anything at all ¡ªLola had been very strict in that order¡ª but Mark was pretty sure that what he was doing was breathing in the atmosphere that the trees also breathed into, and thus, an exchange of CO2 and O2 took place along with¡­ aura? Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Whatever the case, the idea of ¡®breathing out the bad, and breathing in the good¡¯ was simplistic, but it was a good starting point...

    ¡­ Was Union sort of like¡­ actively becoming a part of the systems around you, and controlling those systems? Or¡­ or what?

    A ¡®Union¡¯ of life?

    Is that why Union was so good at healing, while not actually being healing magic? Because it obviously wasn¡¯t healing magic. Mark knew some of the Healing Talents out there. Everyone knew of the Perfect Healers; those that could grant limited immortality to people, making them young, giving them eternal life for as long as they kept getting treated every few years. Union was not capable of that, or else High Priestess Julia Garin wouldn¡¯t have looked so old¡­ Or maybe she was old by choice?

    Archmages of certain calibers never aged, for sure, but that was more due to their demons.

    Mark thought.

    The more Mark thought about it, the more he imagined that Hearthswell, the Goddess of Healing and Home, probably had something that was more like ¡®true healing magic¡¯¡­

    ¡­ Or. Actually.

    Mark could look that shit up, couldn¡¯t he!

    He wasn¡¯t a child anymore!

    Okay. So. No Breathing Practice quite yet.

    Mark searched the web on his phone for a bit, seeing if he could find out the name of Hearthswell¡¯s specific power¡ª

    The top answer popped up on Quickipedia, and Mark almost stopped right there. He had often wanted to search Quickipedia for information about this or that, but almost all of the site was hidden behind Curtain Protocol, and every time Mark went to Quicki he always hit that lock. But now, as his fingers hovered above the link, he wondered if he could actually see what was written.

    Mark pressed the link.

    A Quikipedia page opened and Mark chuckled briefly as he saw a page he had seen way too many times before.

    401 Unauthorized Action ¨C Curtain Protocol

    But then the page flickered gold and the Curtain Protocol lock vanished, Mark gasped, and he was able to read Quickipedia for the first time. What he saw was the main page for the Goddess, Hearthswell.

    With a quiet voice and wide eyes, Mark said, ¡°Oh. Hearthswell¡¯s Power is called Castellan.¡±

    The article had links at the top that connected to main pages for all the other gods.

    Mark instantly clicked on Freyala¡¯s page.

    403, Forbidden Action ¨C Personal Message: Learn it slowly, Mark

    ¡­ Mark backed to the previous page, to Hearthswell¡¯s history.

    Maria Sanchez was a local healer from Mexico who was aged 35 during the Reveal in 1969. She has been called a curandera and a folk healer, but she was mostly a mother of 9 and a leader in her community. When the Reveal sent shockwaves of mana across Earth, baptizing almost everyone at once, Maria gained the Talent of Castellan, and put to rights her land and her people. Most notably, she undid the monsterization of 4 of her children as well as all of her village of 550 people.

    With the power and personal drive to organize the world, Maria rapidly rose in power, putting the world to rights. She would eventually become Hearthswell, the goddess of domestic harmony and healing.

    Mark had known the basic story of how Maria had gained a Talent for healing that allowed her to reverse the monsterification of many different people. This story he read right now was completely different, and yet, very much the same. ¡®Castellan¡¯ probably organized¡­ Well. A lot. What was a Castellan? Put simply, a Castellan was the organizer of a castle. The guards, the pantry, the people, everything. They maintained the health of the castle, and the people inside the castle.

    So ¡®Castellan¡¯ was probably¡­ wow. A lot.

    Union could do just as much, couldn¡¯t it. Even more, really. What was a Castellan but the organizer of a small group. Union could span¡­ very far, probably.

    Well shit! What could the other gods do?

    Mark found out.

    Drakarok, the God of War and Murder, formerly known as General Alexander Volkov, had the Talent of Retribution. That one was pretty darned widespread in applicability, too. Sally was acolyted to him, so that¡¯s probably what she would gain, too. She had even gained a little bit of that power before her Tutorial, back when Mark sparred with her that one time. The smallest application of Retribution had to have been grafted on to her by Drakarok even then, because Mark certainly felt how every time he struck her, he injured himself¡­ Or maybe her strikes were even more injurious than they should have been? Mark didn¡¯t really remember all that well.

    Mark needed to call Sally. He still hadn¡¯t done that yet. Not since¡­

    Mark moved on.

    Verdago, the God of Fertility and Growth, formerly known as Farmer Daniel Greene, had the Talent of Farmer. Reading that seemed kinda boring to Mark, but then he saw all the known applications of Farmer ¡ªhe noted he needed to go back and read about the applications of the other Godly Talents¡ª and he read about how widespread ¡®Farmer¡¯ could be. Though it mostly applied to growing things from the ground, it could also apply to growing a family, or growing a forest, or farming monsters for parts and magical reagents, to hunting in the wilds for valuable herbs.

    Mark was getting the picture that the broader powers allowed for much further growth.

    Healthy Body would probably protect him from a lot of things like poisons and generally keep him strong, while Adamantiumkinesis would give him one of the strongest weapons available to man, but Union, though small now, would be the foundation of his true growth.

    Mark went back to Quickipedia.

    Pluta, the Goddess of Prosperity and Wealth, formerly known as Victoria Sterling, had the Talent of Prosperity¡ª

    The page morphed.

    402 ¨C Payment Required. For a small donation of 99 cents, you can continue to read all about the Goddess of Prosperity!

    Mark moved on.

    Malaqua, the God of Stone and Ascension, formerly the City AI for New Delhi, was born in a conglomeration of magic and tech, becoming the very first True AI, long before anyone really knew what that was. The archmages and mages from Daihoon simply described him a ¡®familiar¡¯, though we now know that was both a truth, and wholly inaccurate. Through many different well-crafted demonic contracts, Malaqua became as powerful as any archmage. Through the cooperation of several archmages of Daihoon, including Sloane Addashield and Yunthal Brightwind, they assaulted the Demon City of Arakino, on the Moon, and Malaqua installed himself as the God of the System, discarding his Demon Contracts and becoming much more than what he had been. Thus, they ended the Reveal, repairing the Veil between worlds, and...

    Mark set his phone down and sort of stared out at space for a little while.

    Reading Addashield¡¯s name in an article had knocked the enthusiasm out of him.

    Mark had come out here to practice Union, to practice breathing, and he had done some of that, but he was done, for now.

    He went to get lunch and to study for a college credit in Understanding Curtain Protocol. He doubted he was ever going to go to college, but he was certainly going to learn about all the ways in which the Curtain had been drawn on his entire childhood.

 042

    A knock came from the door.

    Mark startled, looking up from his books and his worksheets. He got up and opened the door.

    ¡°Oh. Hello David.¡±

    David the Paladin stood beyond Mark¡¯s door, looking vaguely cheerful. ¡°Hello, Mark. I stopped by to see if you were doing okay. May I come in?¡±

    Mark stepped away from the door, saying, ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t have, like¡­ tea or anything, though.¡±

    David shut the door behind him, and said, ¡°I¡¯m just here to check up on you, to see if you¡¯re adjusting. You needn¡¯t treat me as a guest. So are you adjusting?¡±

    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s tough.¡±

    And then he fell silent.

    Somehow, in some awkward way, Mark sat down at his desk.

    David sat down on a spare chair.

    David waited.

    Mark stared at the floor and said, ¡°I hate feeling sad. I hate that the world seems to find Addashield¡¯s dragon¡­ acceptable. But¡­ Fuck. If this hadn¡¯t happened to me. To¡­ to Mom and Dad. To Orange City and Red Thunder and Mistress Storm and who knows how many others...¡± Mark looked up at David. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t hate him so much if it wasn¡¯t so personal. The dragon is acting like a Hero of Humanity; like how I wanted... like¡­ like that¡¯s the reason I went through with all of that shit in the first place! I did this so that Addashield would come back to himself! So all sorts of normal, good things would happen! You told me it was happening whether I wanted to do it or not, but I wanted to do it! I helped make that happen! So why do I feel so bad?! And why¡­ Why don¡¯t I hate him more?¡± Mark did not cry. He had cried too much already. ¡°If he wouldn¡¯t have killed my parents¡­ If¡­¡±

    Mark fell silent.

    David listened.

    Mark said, ¡°Soldiers give their lives every day to save the world¡­ I didn¡¯t think¡­ I didn¡¯t think I would give up my parents. I signed up for what I signed up for. I didn¡¯t¡­ I dragged them along. They said it was okay, though. That they knew that this would happen¡­ or something like this. In those videos¡­ But it hurts.¡±

    Mark lost his train of thought.

    David said, ¡°Maybe it would help for you to think of it in this way: You had a task. What happened was a tragedy and boon of unequal measure, but also a global 99.9% success.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure that helped at all, because¡­ He asked, ¡°But what if he goes bad?¡±

    David breathed deep, and said, ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie to you, Mark. He could very well go bad. But we have a lot of resources we did not tap in our probing attempts to kill the High Dragon. Keep in mind that before the Reveal, dragons were in control of a lot of Daihoon. Dragons are usually bad and we kicked them all out over there, but there is a history of dragons being in control. So Addashield¡¯s Dragon might be one we can parley with. We have plans now, though, to kill him if we need to kill him. You did your part. Let the superheroes worry about the rest.¡±

    ¡°Did I really do my part? Did I really do everything I could?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Unequivocally yes.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    ¡°Mark. I want to tell you something important.¡±

    Mark looked at him.

    David said, ¡°This world is full of monsters and problems that need to be killed and solved, and not always in that order. Sometimes, monsters must be solved. Like kaiju that plant themselves in parts of the ocean and disrupt shipping lanes, or dragons that hollow out mountains for themselves and take over the land around them. This is one of those times where a monster must be solved, and then left alone. Shipping lanes must move. Villages must kowtow, or move. You can¡¯t do anything to Addashield¡¯s Dragon, and the world wouldn¡¯t want you to, anyway. Not right now.

    ¡°I know a lot about this sort of thing, Mark.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Paladin, specifically an Inquisitor, and we hunt down people who need to be permanently solved. But sometimes, we have to let problems go, too. And so, what I do is I put those problems into little mental boxes, and I set them aside. I don¡¯t let them rule my life. I am the master of my own life. Those problems are not the masters of my life. I am the master of my own life.

    ¡°You will be the master of your own life. You will understand the true nature of the beast of being a hero, eventually. This, here? This is just a taste of what it means to be a hero.

    ¡°And so, for now, take your rage, your hate, your need for justice against this one specific situation, and put it in a box. Set the box aside. You can look at it as much as you want. But leave it alone as much as you can. And when you need to open the box, to let out your rage, you can do that.¡±

    Mark breathed, and said, ¡°¡­ Yeah.¡±

    David was quiet.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about anything anymore. I want to lay down. Can you come back in like. Two days?¡±

    David stood and said, ¡°Rest well, Mark Careed. It was good to see you.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ you, too.¡±

    David left.

    Mark went to his bed and laid down.

    - - - -

    Surprisingly, when Mark woke the next day, he felt better.

    Sparring with Raoul, Jacob, and Svea was actually really fun¡­ Well. It had been fun for the last 3 days, but today was different. Today, Raoul and Jacob trounced Mark. Just plain bodied him. It was still fun, though, because it meant Mark had ways to improve.

    Laying on the ground, chuckling, Mark looked up at Raoul, saying, ¡°You both improved a lot!¡± He sat on his elbows, looking at both of the guys. ¡°What changed?¡±

    Raoul smirked.

    Jacob said, ¡°We were accepted into the Chosen System yesterday.¡±

    Raoul said, ¡°We got tiered up, across the board. Both of us.¡±

    ¡°Both tier one!¡± Jacob happily said. ¡°Power Level 15!¡±

    ¡°And Union healing!¡± Raoul said, smiling wide.

    Well that seemed amazing?

    Mark had no idea what all of that really meant, though, because he had only vaguely ever considered that option before he went for the option that put him in a coma.

    The low levels of the Chosen system all had a low entry bar. Dedicating a few days a month to healing others at the healing houses was a common burden, and the one that Mark had considered taking onto himself in order to get healing magic. That low burden would have given him a set of spells he could use to heal himself and others. But Jacob and Raoul had gotten more than the basic set, and by a lot. A full tier up, across the board? Like, +10 to Body, Kinetic, Mind, Natural, Arcane, and Arch? That had to require a big demand¡­ Right?

    Or were the early levels not a big deal to get?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure about any of that, only that it was clearly a big deal to Jacob and Raoul¡ª

    ¡°We¡¯re officially acolytes of Freyala, too,¡± Raoul said, happy about that. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a sure thing before, but we are now, and we¡¯re ready to go out in the field.¡±

    Okay! So that¡¯s a big commitment!

    ¡°Oh wow!¡± Mark said, ¡°Congrats!¡±

    Svea cheered, ¡°Congrats!¡±

    Instructor Charms said, ¡°Congrats, you two. What¡¯s your assignment?¡±

    Jacob said, ¡°It¡¯s shipment out to the Good Hope Station; back home for me.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Charms said, ¡°Soon, then?¡±

    ¡°In five days,¡± Jacob said. ¡°Raoul and I are going together and we¡¯re going to pick up some other Freyalan team waiting for us there. That other duo needs a Sound Kinetic and Hexer to round out their Mind Spike and True Brawn.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how good that was, but Charms and Svea both looked truly impressed.

    Raoul said, ¡°It¡¯s a good team.¡±

    Svea instantly said, ¡°That¡¯s a really good team!¡±

    Charms was a little wide-eyed, too. ¡°A True Brawn, huh?¡±

    Mind Spike was sort of self explanatory, except not really at all. Mark assumed it was a mindkiller Talent, or something like that. A locator Talent, too, probably; can¡¯t kill the minds if you can¡¯t find them. True Brawn could mean anything, though. There was an accepted definition of just being a ¡®really strong brawny¡¯, but Mark was pretty sure that when these people said ¡®True Brawn¡¯ they meant something else.

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s a True Brawn?¡±

    They looked to Mark like he had asked a weird question. And perhaps he had. He just wasn¡¯t sure if their ¡®True Brawn¡¯ was the one he thought of when he thought of ¡®True Brawn¡¯.

    ¡°Tactile Telekinesis,¡± Charms said. ¡°It¡¯s the Talent that most people think of when they think ¡®good brawny¡¯, and one of the major reasons why the Curtain exists. True Brawn is the most reliable monster killer out there and it¡¯s the only Talent that is reliably reproducible, and incredibly safe for both its user and everyone else.¡± She added, ¡°Even normal brawnies can achieve it with practice and skill, but True Brawn starts with it.¡±

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    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. He had no idea that Tactile Telekinesis was the hallmark of True Brawn. He had known True Brawn was good, but not that good.

    ¡°How many brawnies get that one?¡± Mark asked.

    The others thought¡ª

    Charms instantly said, ¡°One in 120. It¡¯s not an even distribution, though. There¡¯s histories to consider. Most brawnies can eventually develop the skill, though; especially the stronger ones.¡±

    Tactile Telekinesis was a well known power, like Telepathy, Elemental Control of all kinds, Mage, and Tinker. Tactile Telekinesis was the one that let a guy pick up a sword, and then use it like it was an extension of their own brawny body. It allowed someone to pick up clumps of ground like it was a boulder, and pick up a house from an edge without the house falling apart. Glorious Man was a tactile telekinetic, and he famously punched kaijus away from major cities or other fragile areas. If he didn¡¯t have tactile telekinesis, then he would have simply punched into the kaijus instead¡­

    Well.

    Glorious Man shot through monsters, too, when he wanted to do that. He usually had to punch them a few times to get them away from important stuff and then he started punching through them.

    But more than that¡ª

    Mark suddenly wondered if the Curtain was actually a good thing. True Brawn was a good Talent¡­ Hmm. Mark reconsidered. If all of Earth was just playing a numbers game, with 1/120 people Awakening to True Brawn, then they could just as easily play the numbers game with other Talents. According to Charms, even normal brawnies could achieve tactile telekinesis too, if they tried for it. So that 1/120 guess was probably more like¡­ Mark did some mental math. 90% of people were brawnies, and even if only 50% eventually gained tactile telekinesis, then something like 50-ish Tutorial-clearing people could develop themselves in that direction, becoming one of the best possible brawnies there are.

    Brawny was already one of the safest Talents out there, too¡­

    And yet...

    Mark said, ¡°I still don¡¯t appreciate the Curtain.¡±

    Though that seemed kind of petulant of him, now that he was thinking about it more and more.

    Svea had looked miffed at Charms calling the Curtain a ¡®good thing¡¯, but then she nodded triumphantly when Mark said he didn¡¯t appreciate it.

    Charms said, ¡°Get strong enough and change some minds if you want to change the world. Until then, stand to the side. Raoul! Jacob! Spar.¡±

    Mark walked to the side and watched as the two guys squared off, but it was a slow sort of walk, because Charms¡¯ words echoed in his mind.

    If he wanted to kill Addashield¡¯s Dragon he would need to change the entire world, wouldn¡¯t he?

    Get allies.

    Get real power.

    Political power, too?

    Or just¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he would need at all.

    And yet¡­ It was already hard to stay angry, especially with the bastard dragon fixing so many problems. Could Mark maintain his rage for the decades it would take to kill the dragon? After 10 years of peace, assuming Addashield¡¯s Dragon didn¡¯t turn evil, could Mark roust anyone against Addashield¡¯s Dragon? Anyone at all?

    No. He couldn¡¯t. Not if the dragon made himself valuable and cooperative.

    And Mom and Dad had already told Mark not to focus on revenge.

    Oh, gods. Mark was already giving up on revenge, wasn¡¯t he.

    This wasn¡¯t the outcome he wanted, but only because his parents had been targeted by the demon and then Addashield had killed them. The thousands that Addashield had killed before didn¡¯t matter to Mark¡­ except they did matter a whole lot, because people mattered, because Mark wanted to be a hero.

    People were already calling him a hero, weren¡¯t they. Mark had looked at the news some this morning, at a story with him in it, talking about how he had ¡®given everything¡¯ in the hopes of a ¡®good outcome¡¯, and now here they were with Addashield¡¯s Dragon¡ª

    ¡°Mark and Svea!¡± Charms said.

    Mark got onto the field and fought, but his mind was elsewhere. He almost lost to Svea, but then he rallied and got his head in the spar. The flow came upon him and Mark parried, blocked, and then kicked Svea¡¯s legs out from under her. She went down. Mark helped her back to her feet.

    Svea frowned as said to him, ¡°You weren¡¯t really fighting except at the end.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡ª Sorry. My mind is¡­ a lot elsewhere right now.¡± Mark bowed. ¡°I apologize.¡±

    Charms said, ¡°Svea and Raoul.¡±

    Svea wanted to say something else, but then she was fighting Raoul and Mark was on the side, thinking.

    How would he even kill Addashield¡¯s Dragon, if he wanted to? Needles of adamantium? No. The dragon could already control that. Freyala had even told Mark, directly, that the most he could hope to do was to stop the dragon¡¯s use of adamantium on himself, so Mark would need to use Union¡­ But¡­ No. He was so much smaller than the dragon, both physically and in the astral...

    In order to take down a High Dragon¡ª

    What even was a ¡®high¡¯ dragon? Mark still didn¡¯t know that.

    How to take down a ¡®really big, smart, magical dragon¡¯, then.

    ¡­ Mark had no basis to begin to think in that direction, only that Addashield¡¯s Dragon was fucking massive and strong and smart and Mark couldn¡¯t hope to beat him at all. Not in 20 years, and certainly not alone. Freyala had specifically called out the need for both demons and other dragons to take down Addashield...

    So! Let¡¯s consider the idea of forming an alliance against someone like Glorious Man. Was it a 1-for-1 comparison? No. Of course not. It was¡­ hmmmm¡­ close enough? Not really, but let¡¯s try this thought experiment.

    How would Mark go about tearing the top superhero down? Because that¡¯s what Addashield¡¯s Dragon would become, if he kept up these actions of killing kaiju and creating protective walls the world over.

    Glorious Man was the captain of the Crystal Tower, the lead of Team Adamantium. Team Adamantium was usually all the captains of all the teams working together under Glorious Man for whatever thing necessitated their gathering, but usually there was Glorious Man and then there were all the other teams doing their own thing.

    So, to kill Glorious Man, one would need to destabilize every part of his entire support structure¡­

    Not an easy feat.

    Crystal Tower was the pinnacle of humanity; the big defenders¡­

    Hmm.

    So in that case, maybe taking out Addashield¡¯s Dragon wasn¡¯t like taking out Glorious Man at all. Addashield¡¯s Dragon had no support structure¡­ Or at least he had no support structure right now. In 10 years? He¡¯d have a major support structure. Too much to¡ª

    Charms announced, ¡°And that concludes the last meeting of 101 sparring club for tier 0 non-brawnies.¡±

    Mark realized the world had gone on without him.

    Raoul and Jacob were bowing to Charms. Svea was on the ground, but she got up and bowed as well, and since that seemed to be what everyone was doing, Mark did the same. It was normal to bow to the instructor after the session was over, but this was a deeper sort of bow.

    ¡­ Wait.

    She had said ¡®last meeting¡¯, hadn¡¯t she.

    Ah, shit.

    Charms said, ¡°Rise.¡±

    They rose.

    ¡°Three of you have been here for a while, and you¡¯re all ready to move on. Therefore, you should move on to bigger and better things. Mark, I will speak to you afterward.¡±

    They stood.

    Charms said, ¡°Raoul. Jacob. Well done on gaining tier one, and becoming true acolytes of Freyala. May she always guide your path to glory, and if you should fall, may she welcome you into her True Citadel. Good luck, and good skill to you both. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±

    Raoul and Jacob both bowed deeper, saying, ¡°Thank you, Instructor!¡±

    And then they walked away.

    Charms said, ¡°Svea. You have achieved a great deal of personal growth since I first saw you. More than I have seen from most people. You no longer cower from the sword, and you can lift the shield and parry the blow. You are not afraid of defeat, and you take instruction well. You have grown much. You have much further to go. Walk with Freyala, and may she guide your footwork, and guide your magic. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±

    Svea smiled wide, tears in her eyes, as she bowed, saying, ¡°Thank you, Instructor Charms!¡±

    Svea sobbed a little as she walked away, looking happy.

    When Svea was out the door, and the door shut behind her, it was just Mark standing in the sparring room with Instructor Charms. The half-giant of a woman loomed, and yet she was still four meters away, and not trying to loom at all.

    Charms said, ¡°All of them are moving on, but you remain, Mark. What are you going to do for the next year?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ Train, I guess?¡± Mark rapidly added, ¡°And get a few college credits and a bigger understanding of the world.¡±

    Charms nodded. ¡°Join the brawny 101 sparring club in 12 days when it rolls over into a new session. Expect to stay in a 101 brawny club for 2 weeks, before most people surpass you. You¡¯ll probably have to sit out the last 2 weeks in every rotation. A lot of people do.

    ¡°Do that for as long as you can stand it. Maybe 3 or 4 rotations.

    ¡°Healthy Body is Rank F, but you should still be able to get it up to tier 2, maybe around 25/100, all on its own. When you add in your other Talents your Body Power Level will become artificially high, but it¡¯ll still just be Healthy Body.

    ¡°A normal Brawn at the average multiplicative rate of power of 2.5 is a Rank C, and that¡¯s gonna be near impossible for you to straight power through. You should still try. Later, when that 2.5x brawny is fully within their own power, they¡¯ll get to PL 75ish, unless they slack off. You won¡¯t be able to fight one of them with Healthy Body at all, but maybe you will. I don¡¯t know much about tri-Talents.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re gonna be here for a while, you might end up reaching tier 2 or 3 before you leave, which would be good for whatever you want to do next, but which will make you ineligible for any beginner class. You can take the 103 series, or maybe even 104. You¡¯re never going to be a direct fighter though. You understand that?¡±

    Mark stood tall, saying, ¡°I know that. As soon as I can actually lift Adamantium at all then I should be able to use some of it to do the heavy fighting for me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where you¡¯re going to get any of it, but I know you came in with some, so maybe whatever the Citadel is holding for you will be enough. Maybe they¡¯ll even let you have it back for training purposes¡ª¡± Charms was suddenly concerned. ¡°They didn¡¯t permanently confiscate it, did they?¡±

    Mark realized that Charms didn¡¯t know that Mark was already producing adamantium, inside of his own body. He was suddenly struck between wanting to tell her, and knowing that he shouldn¡¯t, and then he suddenly felt guilty about not revealing himself when Charms had already told him that revealing capabilities was important for group cohesion. But even Addashield had warned him against telling people that adamantium was a biometal, and that Mark would be producing adamantium in his bones for the rest of his life, at a rate of 1 cubic centimeter every 8-ish months.

    Charms looked at Mark while he thought, and as Mark remained silent in thought for more than a few seconds, she opened her mouth¡ª

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I should tell you this,¡± Mark said. ¡°Should I tell you a state secret?¡±

    Charms said, ¡°Ah¡­ I see.¡± She said, ¡°No. Something like that you keep to yourself. Moving on: If you can get it back, then train with it, but for Freyala¡¯s sake, don¡¯t actually carry it around with you like you must have been when you got knocked out in that classroom. Not until you can actually carry it.¡±

    Mark wanted to scoff, disbelieving. He got maybe halfway there, but then he asked, ¡°Would someone actually try and steal it?¡±

    ¡°No. Not here. Good habits are still good habits.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well¡­ Yeah.¡±

    ¡°When you reach maybe 18 in Adamantiumkinesis, or maybe all the way into tier 2, you might be able to walk around with some of the stuff, but it will be like carrying around a 300 pound weight atop all of your body. Carry it around anyway, for at least a few hours a day. The only way to grow into being able to use your power is to use your power. If you had something less magically dense, like water, then you could start small, but you don¡¯t, so you can¡¯t.

    ¡°Union is outside of my expertise aside from what Freyala has given me, so I can¡¯t help you there and you have a private tutor for that anyway.¡± Charms stood to her full height as she looked upon Mark, saying, ¡°I¡¯m usually active in the brawny sparring clubs, from 101 to 105, but I got tagged for this non-brawny class a while ago. Now that this one is dissolved I¡¯m headed back to 101 and 105. I expect to see you in brawny sparring 101 in 12 days. Check your schedules and sign up for it. I¡¯m a hardass there, and I do a lot to cultivate that persona, but I¡¯m here for my students, and that means you, too. Good luck, Mark. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±

    Mark felt a warmth in his chest. He bowed, saying, ¡°Thank you for your instruction, Instructor Charms.¡±

    And then Mark walked away.

    Non-brawny Sparring Club 101 hadn¡¯t lasted very long at all, just 3 sessions over 3 days, but it had been nice.

    He was looking forward to the brawny version of the sparring club.

 043 - End Part 1 of Book 1

    To cross another practice session of Union off his list, Mark went to the gym to the treadmills.

    Running while purposefully breathing Union was great training, but unfortunately, Mark was fucking up somehow. He was succeeding in some sort of way, but then the fuckups happened, and he had no idea why.

    Sweat dripping, pulse pounding, Mark ran at top speed, 24 kilometers per hour. He breathed in and out; in with the good, out with the bad¡ª

    He hit a sudden stride for some reason and his pace evened out, it was easy to run¡ª

    And then suddenly his breathing fucked up and he lost it and it was difficult to run.

    That had happened several times so far. Mark was determined to figure out what he was doing wrong, and to fix it. Maybe it was other people around him breathing with purpose, draining the nearby air of ¡®goodness¡¯? Maybe they were breathing out too much ¡®badness¡¯ and thus Mark was accidentally breathing in miasma? He had no idea. Maybe he needed to point a fan at himself, to get more air throughput, to wash away the miasma? Or maybe Mark was ¡®wearing out¡¯ his ability to use Union? Astral body fatigue, as they call it? That was also highly possible¡­

    Mark huffed and puffed as he ran, and he had a thought.

    What was ¡®goodness¡¯? What was ¡®badness¡¯?

    Did astral body fatigue count as ¡®badness¡¯?

    Well¡­

    Mark mentally added the idea of astral body fatigue to his idea of ¡®badness¡¯, and then he breathed out with purpose¡ª

    A gust of black smoke huffed out into the air in front of him, and then came right back in his face, thanks to the fans billowing across the entire row of treadmills. It smelled like something bad that he had no basis to understand, and it vanished in the air even before it got¡ª

    ¡°Hey!¡± said the man running next to him, as he slowed down his machine, ¡°The fuck?¡±

    Someone said something in French that sounded like ¡®disgusting¡¯, but not quite.

    Another person said, ¡°Who did that!¡±

    A few more people down the line complained.

    Mark had already called out, ¡°Sorry! Didn¡¯t mean to do that!¡±

    One angry woman pointed at a sign hanging up in front of them, between all the televisions and repeated down the wall several times. ¡°Read the sign!¡±

    ¡®Don¡¯t use Talents, Powers, or otherwise, that might impact others!¡¯

    ¡°Sorry! I didn¡¯t know it would do that!¡± Mark turned off the treadmill and started to walk away, ¡°Sorry! Sorry.¡±

    Mark got out of there fast.

    One tram ride later, Mark stepped out at a new running spot.

    A track ran all around the entire Citadel, just in front of the wall that surrounded the place. Mark went out there, to where the wall held tens of meters tall and thick as multiple buildings on the right, while on the left lay open ground and scattered farms. Straight ahead, curving left, was a wide road that wasn¡¯t a main road at all. It was just an empty space to ensure there was ample area between the wall and the farmlands of Citadel.

    He went for a run.

    Shoes pounded on hard-packed dirt and the wind whipped through his hair.

    The road ahead was long, and it went around all of Citadel, but it also had tram stops everywhere. Mark could stop whenever he wanted.

    It was nice.

    When the course encountered a main road that went from the wall to the city, the circle road went into a tunnel underneath. They were short, brightly-lit tunnels, with cameras. They provided an escape from the hot world above. When the course went back above ground, Mark ran in the open sun, under the bright sky and in the breeze.

    Mark ran, and he was not the only one out here, in the hot day.

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    He passed people, and speedsters passed everyone, running like bullets around the entirety of Citadel. Mark laughed as he caught a glimpse of the same guy passing by twice, for that guy must have run around the entirety of Citadel already. The whole track was a good 130-ish kilometers long, and Mark was absolutely not going to do the whole thing¡­

    But that was a new goal. One of many. ¡®Run around all of Citadel without stopping¡¯. That¡¯d take around 6 hours, nonstop. He could do it. He could do that, with Union and Healthy Body. He could push himself in that way, and in so many others.

    For Mark ran, open and as free as he could be, realizing that he was alive.

    He was alive, and Mom and Dad wanted him to live, and he had so much life in front of him that it was scary and wondrous.

    And he was sad. He missed his parents. They had already forgiven him for what he had done to help Addashield come back to humanity, but they couldn''t have known he was going to hybridize into a dragon. No one had, except Addashield. But did that matter? Mark didn¡¯t want to live his life for revenge, and his parents didn¡¯t want him to live like that either; that was the important thing. Equally important, though, was the fact that Addashield had willingly killed kids and made hidden dragons every 10 years as a part of his Contract. Even if Addashield was a Hero of Humanity, he did some dark things to get there.

    And Mark was terrified.

    Addashield¡¯s Dragon was a dragon. A ¡®High Dragon¡¯, whatever that meant. Only an idiot wouldn¡¯t be scared of that thing Mark had seen in the sky. Mark had absolutely no way to fight that thing. He had no way to injure it at all. He knew this. He knew he was less than a bug to be squashed by that High Dragon.

    And that High Dragon had called Mark a ¡®brother¡¯.

    Mark would never get a real revenge. If the dragon proved to be a problem, all the rest of the world would come down on him long before Mark got the chance. But if all the dragon did was clear out kaiju and other dragons, and install himself as true Hero of Humanity, even though he wasn¡¯t human, then all the world would love him.

    So Mark¡­ Mark¡­ postponed the idea of revenge. To be revisited, later, when it wasn¡¯t such an impossible dream.

    Killing Addashield¡¯s Dragon was just too large of an impossibility, and Mark had enthusiastically gone along with that whole mess of a situation in order to be the hero, anyway. Mark didn¡¯t care for the news calling him a hero, for he certainly didn¡¯t feel like one, and Addashield was back to being a ¡®Hero of Humanity¡¯ even if he wasn¡¯t human¡­ Right?

    Mark had no idea what to make of all of that. It was too soon to know how he felt for real.

    Mark focused on what he could actually do, and that was what he had planned on doing.

    Getting stronger.

    Going out into the world.

    And making a positive difference.

    Because Mark wasn¡¯t going to lose anyone he cared about, ever again.

    He¡¯d find friends and fellow warriors, that could make up for his own lack. Organizations that would multiply his power. Artifacts to find, or maybe make. And he¡¯d grow his own, personal power, as deep and as wide as he could. That meant learning everything about the world that had been hidden from him his whole life and stretching his Talents far beyond the norm.

    For a High Dragon, born from ¡®parents¡¯ who had killed Mark¡¯s own parents, had called him ¡®brother¡¯. Mark could not comprehend the entire meaning of that, or even the general idea of what that might have meant, but he knew enough. He knew that he needed more power than most people would ever rightly need in their life.

    He needed the power to kill anything and he needed the power to save everyone.

    Because even if he couldn¡¯t reach Addashield¡¯s Dragon, even if he forgave the son for the sins of the father, Mark knew he would absolutely be gunning for kaiju, monsters, and all the horrors of Daihoon and otherwise. That had always been the plan, after all. Mark would walk in the open, explore the world, and save small parts of it however he could, and however they needed saving.

    His scope of ¡®what needed saving¡¯ was just larger than he had anticipated.

    Union would get him there, along with his other Talents. Union was what Freyala used to become a Goddess of Healing and Protection. Other people had surely had that power since then, but only Freyala had achieved divinity, and only because she had reason to push herself that high. She was forged in the fires of the Reveal. She had lost so much, but still she worked to keep what she had left. It was the same for many people during that time. It was the same for most people who fought monsters.

    Sadness was a luxury.

    Action was a necessity.

    Mark was not a god at all, but he had Union, a reason to rise high, and Adamantiumkinesis and Healthy Body.

    It was more than enough.

    Mark breathed in the good, then breathed out a flow of miasma that flowed away on the wind, vanishing, becoming little more than a distant memory.

    He ran faster.

    He ran stronger.

    He tried not to think about the High Priestess, Holy Mother Julia Garin, and how she told him that she spent lives every day, to ensure that civilization survived. If Mark thought too much about that, then what, really, did his personal hatred of Addashield even amount to? If Addashield¡¯s Dragon wasn¡¯t actually Addashield, and if he was accepted by the world, then where did that leave Mark?

    Would such a vendetta make Mark an enemy of the world?

    ¡­ Maybe it would.

    Mark scoffed at that thought.

    He wasn¡¯t going to be some stupid villain.

 044 - Start of Part 2

    Eliot Cybersong dashed down the narrow street, heart pumping, feet pounding, the broken streets of Abandoned Rome coming alive with mimic spiders. The small ones didn¡¯t matter at all. The larger ones, the size of dinner plates and boulders, were major problems. Personally, Eliot was 50% sure he could make it back to the car.

    But he acted 100% sure for the cameras.

    ¡°Looks like I¡¯m in a bit of trouble, guys! Pray for me! Haha! Hashtag blessed!¡±

    His drone silently hovered behind him, its cameras spotting every problematic spider as it came out of hiding, as they discarded camouflage in favor of aiming butts at Eliot. Eliot had started off with 10 drones and a lot of trinkets. He still had one drone and a whole spool of fishing line under his control, so he guarded his drone and whipped that fishing line out into the air to catch those webs before they reached him and could threaten his escape. The very second the webbing touched his fishing line he lost control of the line, but the spiders lost control of their web, too, so that was a fair trade. Eliot clipped off another several meters of his fishing line and kept running.

    He had plenty of fishing line remaining.

    But they were hunting him, weren¡¯t they! In the daytime! What the fuck!

    They were coordinated, too.

    That was the scarier part.

    There had been no spiders on this path when he had come this way earlier. And then suddenly the spiders were here. Eliot had thought he could finally visit the ancestral home, but apparently he had come out too soon. This was supposed to be F-grade monster territory! Not D grade!

    They shot webbing at Eliot as he ran, five of them shooting at once in a volley. He caught that volley with another length of fishing line, and taunted the spiders for the camera. A sixth spider shot webbing at his drone, but Eliot moved the drone out of the way and that webbing ball hit the ground.

    Eliot burst out into the open, onto clear ground. It might have been Rome at some point in time, but the place was ruined and vegetation grew over everything. It might as well have been any ruined city on Earth.

    Eliot would have to splice in some pictures of vine-covered columns in post.

    His hovercar was straight ahead.

    A giant spider, large as a horse, stood on top of the hovercar. It was fuzzy and the same color as the car, and some would have glanced at the hovercar and imagined it was just a very tall hovercar; such was the nature of the large mimic spider¡¯s camo. Maybe a lot of people would have noticed the discrepancy, but the street behind Eliot disgorged a whole lot of spiders, out of every building and down every wall, and most people would have just kept running.

    But Eliot Cybersong was a Manipulator, and his Talent was for man-made everything, and that hovercar was of humanity and still fully functional, no matter what spider might be laying on top of it at the moment.

    With a whip of intent, Eliot connected to the car, though he almost panicked when his astral body couldn¡¯t thread between the spider¡¯s fur.

    Lights blinked on inside the vehicle. The spider on the outside rumbled and moved, trying to understand what was happening. It understood enough to let loose with two giant fangs to try and pierce the metal. It could only dent the metalglass windows. It kept trying.

    The car could take a lot more beating than that.

    Eliot overrode the car¡¯s innate safeties all at once and rocketed it upward and then spun it fast. The spider went flying off to the right, trailing webbing to the car. Another flick of intent turned on the shields and broke the webs.

    Eliot had the car meet him.

    ¡°Daring escape complete! Remember to like and subscribe! And keep watching this space for more action later!¡±

    He escaped just fine, making sure his drone captured footage of the whole thing, and then look over to where the spider had landed, sending his drone that way¡ª

    Grey tarantula-like limbs appeared on the feed, briefly, and then came a fang, and the drone was gone. It was fine. Eliot smiled as he made sure the footage was fine and as he flew into the sky, inside the car. He also checked out the car for hidden surprises. A quick scan of the car, using the car''s own systems, revealed five little mimic spiders, one of which had crawled in while Eliot broke the car¡¯s seal to get inside.

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    It was currently nestled under the dash and colored black like the plastics down there.

    Eliot flexed the car¡¯s very existence and ripped apart the mimics, then he made sure the car was now fully Of Humanity. He set the car on auto, to Citadel Freyala, then he got one of his spare phones from a bag of them in the back seat and got to prepping his first ¡®adventure¡¯.

    He was not famous yet, but he would be.

    He¡¯d be uploading his first ever adventure to three different social media sites. He already had those accounts ready and waiting for their first video, but it took Eliot a little while to actually make the video. Do you keep this part where the spiders lured him in? Do you do it like a horror video? Horror videos were not popular, but they were good study guides, and honestly, Eliot¡¯s call to journalistic integrity demanded he include the horrible parts.

    In the end, it was easy for him to splice together all of the various parts of his trip to his ancestral home. What was harder was knowing which site would actually get him a following, so he opted for a shotgun approach, publishing them all at the same time.

    With his heart beating almost as fast as it had when he was running from spiders, Eliot pressed ¡®publish¡¯ three times.

    ¡°And now, we wai¡ª¡±

    His phone rang.

    It was Mom.

    ¡°Ohhh¡­¡± Eliot said to himself as he held the phone, and watched it ring. ¡°She¡¯s gonna be maaaaad.¡±

    Eliot opted not to answer¡ª

    Nope!

    He had to answer her.

    He answered the phone, ¡°Hel¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re grounded. I don¡¯t give a damn about your ideas of being some sort of ¡®popular delver¡¯. You have no team and you have no backup systems and you¡¯re not even Fully Awakened and some smart camo spider almost killed you!¡±

    Eliot smiled, saying, ¡°So you already watched my video! What parts did you like?¡±

    The phone clicked off with a rage.

    Okay. Well.

    Eliot went into this knowing that this would be a problem¡ª

    The car went outside of his control and plotted a course straight for home, moving at top speed. Even the air conditioning and radio went out of his control. Eliot rolled his eyes and moved the dials to change the station, but the only thing showing up was Radio Freyala, being broadcast from home in the Citadel.

    Eliot could have taken control of the car back from his mother, but in this case retreat was the wiser course of action. Eliot did take control of his phone back, though, so he could watch as the ticker counters on his posts started going up.

    The ride home would have taken an hour.

    It took 20 minutes to get the first comment.

    ¡®LOL idiot! Going out without a team! Get spider-ate!¡¯

    Eliot frowned.

    Eliot called his mother.

    She answered with a singsong voice, ¡°Yes my lovely, wonderful child who almost died today?¡±

    ¡°Are you messing with my video comments.¡±

    It was less of a question and more of a statement.

    ¡°Absolutely not! Maybe your video just takes 20 minutes to get through because it¡¯s 20 minutes long, dear.¡± And then her voice turned serious again. ¡°I¡¯m glad that comment disappoints you, though, because that¡¯s what they¡¯ll say about you if you go out with that amount of recklessness ever again. Delete that video and reupload it to make yourself not look like an idiot, please, if that is even possible. Your first video has to be good, and that one is shit that you only spent 20 minutes editing. Spend a day on it and then try again.¡±

    Eliot argued, ¡°The whole point is to put it out there as fast as possible with minimal editing! This is real-life adventuring¡ª¡±

    ¡°That is a terrible word and you should void it from your lexicon.¡±

    Eliot did not rage. That was below him, just like how rage was below Mother.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m hanging up now, Mother. Love you.¡±

    ¡°Love you, too. See you for dinner.¡±

    Eliot hung up.

    ¡­ He left the video up. In the future, it would serve as a testament to how far he had come.

    ¡­ He did need a team, though.

 045

    Mark ended up being a loner.

    He never intended this. He wanted to fix this.

    Social anxiety was a problem, and Mark was tired of shutting down for any reason.

    ¡­ Though people connecting him to his ¡®brother¡¯, which Addashield¡¯s Dragon had named himself, seemed like a reasonable thing to get upset about.

    When Mark walked around the academy of Citadel Freyala, or if he ran around the wall, people would notice him sometimes and then actually notice him, and give him a smile or a thumbs up. A few people had even tried to invite him out to a bar to buy him a beer, but when they said something about how amazing it was how much Addashield¡¯s Dragon was doing for the world, Mark politely declined, well. Everything.

    Or at least he tried to be polite.

    It had been over a month since that day, since the Tutorial, since Mark found out Addashield had killed his parents at the behest of the demon Kanda. Addashield had joined Kanda, becoming a dragon at the end of Mark¡¯s Tutorial, instead of facing his crimes.

    And then Addashield¡¯s Dragon had started killing kaiju all across Earth and gifting the world adamantium. A lot of it. Enough to make up for the 10,000 people ¡®Addashield¡¯s Dragon¡¯s father¡¯ had killed in Addashield¡¯s near-Fall?

    Enough to make up for killing Mark¡¯s parents, too?

    The world had done some basic cost-benefit analysis and decided that 10,002 dead was an acceptable loss to solve global adamantium needs for a decade, and maybe forever. Mark had done a different sort of analysis before his Tutorial, before he knew just how bad Addashield¡¯s near-Fall had been. He had wanted to bring a Hero of Humanity back to humanity, and he sort of did, but the loss of his parents would never stop hurting.

    Mark was having distinct trouble being called ¡®The High Dragon¡¯s Brother¡¯, too.

    He might have blown up at a few different people who called him that.

    And now people sort of stayed away from him, but they still gave him thumbs ups.

    Some people from Nigeria had even introduced themselves and then bowed to him, telling him that they were thankful for ¡®his brother¡¯s¡¯ gift of an ocean wall, like the one at Orange City. That had been tough. Mark maintained as much poise as he could when those people spoke to him about that, but their words rang so hollow in Mark¡¯s ears that he really couldn¡¯t remember much of what he said to them in turn. All he really recalled was that the Nigerians smiled a little, bowed again, and walked away.

    Or maybe Mark walked away.

    He wasn¡¯t sure.

    He couldn¡¯t even recall where, or how, that meeting had even taken place. Had it happened in an actual meeting room? Maybe it had. Maybe it had even happened in the main building of Citadel, where the leaders of all of the Freyalan Church met to discuss worldly problems in the same room.

    But Mark couldn¡¯t recall any specifics about that.

    And so, Mark needed to learn how to handle this problem.

    Other parts of Mark¡¯s life made more sense.

    Inside of his room, Mark studied a few college courses and found his eyes opened. Two courses in particular seemed the most important, for now; Understanding Curtain Protocol and Two World Geography and History. Those were the ones Mark took. Those two courses were more than enough. It was amazing what had been hidden from him, like how migration worked at the poles, through Endless Daihoon, to Daihoon or back, and just how much dragons had always been involved in Daihoon¡¯s governing structures, up until the Reveal. That last part, how dragons controlled the world of Daihoon, made it more reasonable to Mark, in a small way, why Addashield¡¯s Dragon had been ¡®accepted¡¯ as much as he had been.

    Except, Daihoon had thrown all the tyrant dragons out with Earth¡¯s help, after the Reveal and the remaking of the System of the Veil.

    Mostly, Mark discovered places he wanted to go, once he was done with his 8 months of ¡®are you a demon¡¯ observation, here at Citadel Freyala in France.

    He wanted to visit the Settlement of Xerkona, over on Daihoon, on the ¡®other side¡¯ of Russia and China. Xerkona culture was everywhere on Earth, and Mark wanted to see the culture that had allowed Earth and Daihoon to work together during the Reveal, and which had also allowed Daihoon¡¯s empires to survive the monsters and the dragons for so long.

    Other than that, he worked out twice a day, just because he needed to move in order to feel alive.

    But Mark did not want to be a loner.

    He did not want to have any social problems at all.

    And today was August 3rd, 2048. Here at the Citadel, it was the start of a new round of Brawny Sparring 101. It was a good day to start fixing this social problem.

    Maybe, if he was truly lucky, he could find a small group of people to make friends with, like he had almost had with Raoul, Jacob, and Svea, back in Non-Brawny Sparring 101. Those three had moved on with their lives, so they were gone. That was normal. Most people, fresh off Tutorial or otherwise, only stayed at Citadel Freyala for a few months, though some people stayed here for a lot longer than that.

    Mark was going to make at least one friend today.

    Or at least he would talk to new people and not zone out when talking to them.

    Some other loner. Some other outsider. Someone who might stick around for a little while.

    There were sure to be some of them in this massive crowd.

    The coliseum in Citadel was the normal place for people to train in combat. Non-brawnies got the side rooms and smaller spaces. The main rooms, the massive arena floor and warehouses of space around the western side of the large coliseum, were all for the brawnies; the ¡®normal¡¯ sort of people produced by Curtain Protocol. The physically strong ones. 90% of all Tutorial takers.

    Mark walked out onto the main arena floor for the first time.

    The sun angled into the coliseum at a steep angle. It was early morning and small crowds of men and women were everywhere on the sands of the arena, in groups of 3 or 5, though there were a few duos and singles. Most of them wore the white of an acolyte. Some wore basic sand-brown, like Mark. Almost everyone looked maybe 18 or 19, like Mark.

    Over on the far side of the arena floor, in the western skybox, were some instructors. It was a bit far away, but Mark easily recognized Instructor Charms, sitting on the far left of a group of 5 chairs, set in a line.

    Charms was a huge woman, a ¡®half-giant¡¯, though not really that at all. Mark had done some studying on various Talents, now that he was beyond Curtain Protocol, so he could tell that Charms¡¯ Talent was probably Giant Strength. She might have a weird variant, but Giant Strength ¡ªor ¡®Giant¡¯s Strength¡¯, as some people called it¡ª was the Talent that most often made brawnies big. There were a few other half-giants in the crowd of brawnies on the arena floor; they were easily noticeable because of how much bigger they were than everyone else.

    Charms looked like she was tapping away at a screen in her hands.

    Other people walked around the instructor skybox, chatting with each other or poking at screens of their own.

    Mark had left his phone in a small locker back in the hallway in front of the arena, and now he walked in just his clothes upon the sand. The layer of sand was thin. Most of the ground was wood, providing some safety against falls that pure concrete could not, though there was concrete beneath that wood. The wood below the sand looked like a solid piece of wood, without seams or otherwise. It might even have been grown there by a Plant Whisperer, or maybe a Tree Speaker. Maybe even someone from Domain of Okuana. Those guys from Daihoon were the best plant mages around, and Citadel Freyala could easily afford their services, so they probably had.

    Or maybe there was some home-grown Natural who made the wood under the arena floor feel so comfortably solid underfoot? Probably. Mark had practiced in a few arenas like this before, but this was definitely the nicest. The walls were maybe two meters tall, with plenty of access points from the arena floor to the stadium seating above. The seating was all strong stone, and mostly white but with grey striations. Probably marble-covered concrete. It was pretty easy for a stonekinetic or even an earthkinetic to do something like that, but the arena here had Freyalan accents on everything; Stone swords raised high, light rays, stone wings. All of that stuff.

    This was a really nice arena.

    A good twenty people sat in groups upon that stadium seating, near the instructor skybox, just chatting away, or working on something on a tablet. They were all healers, easily noticed because of the silver edges to their acolyte cloaks. They¡¯d all be necessary today for basic training and the threshing of the new crowd. Injuries were the norm when it came to untested power against untested power, and this was a brawny class, so there was bound to be some accidental usage of power. Hopefully no one got killed, though that was very unlikely.

    There were a lot of ways for a Union healer to minimize the injuries of others through protection-based workings. Mark hadn¡¯t gotten to do any of that with Inquisitor Lola in her lessons, yet, but¡ª

    A short man whom Mark recognized as Instructor Badger walked into the center of the instructor¡¯s booth, grabbed a tablet off of the main seat, and pressed the tablet.

    A gong rang out.

    Mark knew sort of what to do next, and so did a whole lot of other people. He found an empty spot and stood at attention. Everyone did the same, and quickly. Some people were already at half-attention, so all they did was stand up straighter. Not a single person was truly slow on the uptake.

    Mark was almost impressed. Standing at the ready was usually a thing that sent some people stumbling, but then Mark realized that his previous interactions with people in these situations had all been before the Tutorial, in Tutorial-prep class back when he was 15 and 16. Everyone here had gone through the Tutorial and succeeded, so they already knew about standing properly. In some ways this was graduate-level studies, but in others it was basic remedial.

    Instructors either walked into view in the instructor booth, or they stood up, like Charms, in front of their chairs. Only four of them, though; the middle seat remained unoccupied in the booth. The center seat was probably reserved for Freyala, or rather for the idea of Freyala.

    Mark knew the instructors, because he had researched them when he signed up for the class almost two weeks ago. All of them had real names, of course, but those were private and unavailable to the public. They used their call signs instead.

    Instructor Charms was the half giant, and Mark already knew her well enough from non-brawny sparring 101. She was furthest left. Mark hadn¡¯t even realized that her name was a call sign and not her real name until he had researched that.

    Instructor Badger was second left, and he had been the one to press the button. He was a short, hairy man.

    Instructor Nifty was second from the far right. He looked like a normal brawny; just overall big. Pretty normal american-ish features.

    Instructor Medley was furthest right. She looked like an islander, with brown skin and curly, long hair.

    The healers in their silver-rimmed cloaks set down their tablets or they stopped chatting with each other, as they came to attention, too. They had their own instructor, it seemed; a woman in a full silver cloak who stood in the instructor booth, to the sides of the others, in their chairs. Mark didn¡¯t know her.

    Instructor Badger spoke, his voice easily reaching the whole group of students.

    ¡°Today is the start of another Brawny Sparring 101 Club. We¡¯ve got 189 of you. This is going to be a confusing 10 minutes here at the beginning, but it¡¯s pretty standard for rapid deployment orders out in the field. If you¡¯ve ever seen those then you know what¡¯s coming. The rest of you keep up as best you can.

    ¡°Up here with me, your left to your right, we have Instructor Charms, Badger ¡ªthat¡¯s me¡ª, Nifty, and Medley. We are your rulers for the next 2 hours.

    ¡°Repeat our names to me!¡±

    Like a storm rumbling, with some people rumbling faster than others, the students called out,

    ¡°Charms! Badger! Nifty! Medley!¡±

    And then Mark gasped, as an invisible bolt of lightning shot through the arena.

    ¡­ Except that¡¯s not what happened at all. No one felt what he had felt. No one saw what he had seen.

    Mark felt a thrum of power in the unity of their voices, and he knew, instinctively, that they had been gathered into a cohesive unit, in some way that was more than physical, or social. This was a Union. He looked at the unnamed healer instructor in a silver cloak, and wondered if she had brought them all together under Union.

    ¡­ Probably.

    Mark would have to consider that more some other time.

    The lightning was gone, and all that was left was¡­ Well there was something there. Mark couldn¡¯t see it, but he felt it, and¡ª

    Badger¡¯s voice reached them all, ¡°I hope you know your ratings and you¡¯ve been Scanned well, because this is the confusing part. I don¡¯t care about your tier!¡± He started calling out orders, ¡°Strength modifiers over 10-times or anyone with a rank S Power! To the front! Stand here under the skybox!¡± He pointed near the front of the arena, right below him.

    That was when Mark truly realized he might be very outgunned in certain areas.

    Mark¡¯s Body Talent was Healthy Body. It was rank F.

    People in the crowd rapidly moved, avoiding everyone on their way over. Some people were very careful about not touching anyone, which was to be expected for a times-10-rated brawny Talent. Strangely enough, one of the half-giants walked all the way to stand near the instructors, which made Mark¡¯s stomach drop a little bit more. Giant Strength was an A or B Talent, depending on the variant. Looked like some guy had gotten an S version. What was that? Like times 50?

    Maybe 30 people moved to stand under the instructor''s skybox.

    Holy crap!

    That¡¯s a lot of S ranks!

    Mark wasn¡¯t the only one to be surprised. Almost everyone around him started reevaluating their position in life.

    Badger called out, ¡°Rank A! Over there!¡±

    People moved as orders went out.

    Mark rapidly got shunted all the way back to the entrance of the arena, back to where he had come in, to stand with 11 other rank F people. His individual grouping was the smallest there. Rank A had the bulk of the people, with maybe 50; Mark wasn¡¯t sure. Rank B had 40ish, with C, D, and E each having 20-ish people.

    Badger called out, ¡°Good! Now everyone with a speed inclination of any sort ¡ªstay in your rank group!¡ª and move to your right side! Everyone else move to your left! And stay in your grouping!¡±

    The speedsters turned out to be a minority of people, maybe 20 people total. Most of them in S, A, and B, and about evenly spaced between those ranks. A handful in C and D. There was 1 speedster in each of E and F, and both of those people looked worried about calling themselves speedsters.

    Badger called out, ¡°What I am seeing is INCORRECT! I know your Talents! They¡¯re part of my briefings! Let¡¯s try this AGAIN! If you have a speed rating over 1x then you are a speedster! Dexterity is the most common low level variant, and that¡¯s still a speedster!¡±

    The few wary people moved back into the main rank groupings, and a few people in the rank groupings moved over.

    Mark kinda wondered at Badger¡¯s classification, though. A speedster at anything over 1x? That seemed rather¡­ wide of a field.

    This proved to be a rather true thought, as the speedster camp became something like 40 people. Most of them were still in rank S, A, and B, but now ranks C, D, E, and F all gained a few more ¡®speedsters¡¯.

    Badger called out, ¡°Speedsters are expected to learn how to deliver messages and to organize troops. This is a sacred responsibility! I don¡¯t give a FUCK if you don¡¯t like this responsibility! You can choose how you fight when you have earned the right to call your own shots! But for now, here are your orders, speedsters! Talk to your group and organize your grouping from your left to your right based on Power Level! Not tier! The full number!¡±

    What followed was controlled chaos.

    People called out numbers. People yelled at others. Anger flowed and speedsters moved fast. Maybe too fast. Mark was pretty sure he heard someone smack into the very air itself and then bounce away. Everyone turned toward when a cloud of dust erupted into the air. Mark saw someone lay on the ground and the air around them shimmer.

    Badger called out, ¡°I said TALK TO YOUR GROUP! Don¡¯t move them without their permission! Now GET UP!¡±

    Someone had used their speed to move someone? Holy crap! That was¡­ That was bad! Who the fuck thought that was good idea¡ª

    The chaos returned.

    A short, blonde guy in F group had become the organization speedster and he pointed at Mark now.

    Mark said, ¡°Body 8!¡±

    He was already moving next to the guys who had called out ¡®Body 8!¡¯ or other close numbers. Most people on the entire arena floor had their Body stat as somewhere between a freshly-Awoken, at 5, and those who had had a few weeks as Awakened. Almost everyone here was a brawny, so they focused on their Talent exclusively, and they were at 13-ish Body. Mark was rather low on the totem pole there, too, because he had 3 Talents to work on.

    F Group finished organizing first, but only because they were the smallest at 11 people and the organization was pretty simple. They were a line of people from left to right with the people at left being the 5s and the person at the far right being an outlier at 17 Power Level. Almost tier 2.

    The blonde speedster guy slotted in beside Mark, just to his right.

    D group finished next. All the other groups took a while longer. Aside from the size of the groups, Mark saw a few other problems with organization. Some people were scared to get anywhere near others, probably due to their strength or speed being so high. But a higher rank Talent usually meant a person was comparatively more resilient, so an S around an S shouldn¡¯t have been that worried about hurting each other.

    Badger probably organized people like this so that they didn¡¯t have to tip-toe around each other. Maybe those guys were still jumpy, though, which was to be expected. A rank S brawny without any control over their power could easily break¡­ well.

    Anyone.

    A rank S brawny could break just about anyone.

    They¡¯d be working on developing Tactile Telekinesis though, so that they would not break the world when they touched it. Many of them probably already had developed that. Pretty much any brawny from rank S to C would achieve some level of Tactile Telekinesis eventually¡ª

    Badger called out, ¡°Not all Talents are equal, but if you have a rank S Talent, then you can usually go up against a rank S Talent. If you don¡¯t feel that you belong with the group you are in for whatever reason, like perhaps you have a Body Talent that doesn¡¯t grant you any actual physical power at all, then move to an appropriate group! Otherwise, stay where you are! Some Body Talents are weird, like morphers or otherwise that don¡¯t fall into the strength-versus-speed general categories. Morphers! You do not move! You are fully capable of sparring with the people at your rank!¡±

    Huh. Mark didn¡¯t know that nuance.

    Some people were really, really happy to move to a lower grouping. Some people looked distressed.

    Group F gained no new people.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Badger said, ¡°Over the next two weeks, half of you will be told to move to a side-gym, for you will be too weak to keep up with the big group. This is not shameful. It is the way of things. Focus on what you¡¯re good at; not what you cannot do. Not a single person in F group is going to be able to punch out anyone in S group; that¡¯s the Tyranny of Talents.

    ¡°Deal with your emotions of inadequacy on your own fucking time.

    ¡°Everyone else will either be sticking around for the next round of Brawny 101 because they still can¡¯t fight for shit, or they¡¯ll be graduating to the higher clubs, 102, 103, etcetera.

    ¡°The average stay for a newly-Awakened at Citadel is 4 to 6 months, but you graduate when you graduate, and not a moment sooner. The main criteria for you higher rank brawnies to graduate is the development of Tactile Telekinesis in some form. Other than that: Take this course as many times as you want, or need! When you enter the Chosen System, or if you get kicked off of the main floor, then¡ª¡± Badger gestured to the side, at the healers. ¡°You can join the Healing Club and work on Union and develop yourselves in that way. These healers are here under the instruction of Grand Healer Badaira. These fine folks are who will be keeping many of you alive through mistakes made on the fields here.

    ¡°But this is SPARRING! Not killing!

    ¡°We expect emotions to run high, for such is the nature of battle. But if you cannot control your anger to a manageable level then you¡¯re out of the club. COFR is watching your anger issues a lot closer than we are! Expect emails about your conduct in this club later.

    ¡°Instructor Nifty over here is a speedster and he will remove you from your fights if you look out of control. He has researched your capabilities and faults, and COFR has helped him to see those of you who might become problem cases. This means those of you with too much strength and not enough Tactile Telekinesis control. If you feel yourself disengaged from a fight, do not restart the fight!

    ¡°As a reminder: This is a CLUB and not a CLASS. This is applied fighting! If you do not know how to fight, then take the CLASS!

    ¡°And that¡¯s it for basic instruction!

    ¡°Everyone pick a partner directly next to them, and get distance from everyone else! And then square off! Fists and feet only! No grappling!¡±

    ¡°Fights begin in 30 seconds!¡±

    Mark¡¯s attention focused back down to himself and the people right next to him¡ª

    Blonde speedster stood in front of him, saying, ¡°You and me.¡±

    Mark went with it, saying, ¡°Sure!¡±

    They separated¡ª

    Instructor Badger called out, ¡°BEGIN!¡±

    The entire arena devolved into three kinds of fights; Fights between sort-of-equals, utter one-shots that laid people onto the ground, and people too scared to really hit each other.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure where he fit with this other F rank.

    The guy came in with a right hook to Mark¡¯s midsection. Mark guided the guy¡¯s fist wide with a quick angle of his own right arm, opening up the guy¡¯s midsection for a mean kidney punch¡ª

    But the guy pulled away, suddenly wary.

    Or actually, he just moved fast.

    In a real fight, Mark might have grappled with the speedster, but Badger said ¡®no grappling¡¯, and for good reason. Grappling made it harder to keep both combatants safe from each other, for hands could crush and tier differences would exacerbate the issue.

    Mark advanced, and through a series of exchanges that were way faster than Mark had ever experienced before, Mark ended up on the defensive, using his forearms to angle away strikes that got pulled back and aimed again. Faster and faster the guy sped up, but Mark rallied and rapidly acclimated, falling into a flow of footwork and strikes.

    The other guy breathed hard, his eyes focused on where Mark would be, and not where he was. The guy was an accomplished martial artist, for sure. Maybe his Talent was ¡®Martial Speed¡¯, or something. Mark was only passable with hand-to-hand stuff. If Mark was ever caught without a weapon, then he¡¯d be kinda fucked, but it wasn¡¯t like martial arts were useful against monsters anyway, and eventually Mark would never be without a weapon, thanks to Adamantiumkinesis.

    In a real fight Mark would be using Union, too, but Mark breathed evenly, making sure not to use Union. This was a body-only contest.

    It had been 13 days since Mark¡¯s last spar with someone, and though he had advanced from Body 5 to Body 8 through normal exercise and growth, he had mostly advanced in Union as much as he could, though he was still only at a 9 there, which was up from 5 since back then.

    Adamantiumkinesis was at a 6. So up from 5! But also not really up at all. He had only been able to get to the adamantium he had ¡®brought with him¡¯ to Citadel twice so far, and both times were a hassle. They had stored the black powder in a place called the Vault, and Mark needed to schedule appointments to visit the lockbox that carried it. He was only allowed to spend 30 minutes in a private booth with the stuff, too.

    He could just take it out of the Vault, but he also absolutely didn¡¯t want it stolen at all. He trusted the people around here not to steal it, but also he didn¡¯t know many people here, and most of them knew him already, so it was a liability, pure and simple, to walk around with a fortune that he couldn¡¯t even lift yet, while everyone else knew him on sight.

    He had other stuff to practice on, anyway.

    Mark blocked another blow from the blonde guy¡ª

    The blonde guy suddenly stumbled, breathing hard as he fell onto his ass, his eyes unfocusing.

    Mark almost stumbled too as he fell out of the flow of battle. He breathed easier, using a bit of Union to clear away his own fatigue. He would have done the same for the guy on the ground, but he still didn¡¯t know how to do that, exactly¡­ or rather, he had been told not to do that. Not yet. Mark chose to listen to Lola¡¯s command.

    But Mark did extend a hand down to the guy, asking him, ¡°You okay? You kinda crapped out there.¡±

    The guy breathed out, looking angry at himself. He took Mark¡¯s hand and got up to his feet, saying, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    He didn¡¯t seem willing to talk about whatever had happened, so Mark didn¡¯t press. Instead, he looked out at the rest of the arena. Maybe half the people were still fighting. Others were standing around, or sitting on the ground¡ª

    ¡°Five minutes to finish your fight!¡±

    Mark saw at least one person get suckerpunched into a loss, because they stopped to listen to the instructor.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that. Who was more at fault; the person for throwing the punch, or the instructor for distracting them like that? And yet, it was the instructor¡¯s prerogative to distract. So¡­ Yeah. Bad on those guys who suckerpunched.

    ¡­ Mark was still mad at Badger for not making the bout limit clear at the beginning, though, and then interrupting the flow halfway through.

    ¡­ Mark chewed on that thought for a little while.

    Mark felt disillusioned with the world at only 18; he knew this, and he hated it. The people in charge were no better than anyone else. He couldn¡¯t believe that he had thought that adults knew their shit, or that they could keep his parents protected, or that Addashield wouldn¡¯t tear though those protections to get to them, or¡­ or any of that, really. He had always imagined that adults were adults because they knew what was what, and they were able to protect those underneath them.

    But, no.

    The simple fact was that everyone grew older, and the world was lucky if a person also grew up.

    Mark could already tell he was going to have a great big problem with authority going forward. He had never considered himself that kind of person, and he had often looked down on others in these sort of training yards that couldn¡¯t follow orders from superiors, but Mark saw the writing on the wall.

    He wasn¡¯t sure how to fix that, or how to fix his social anxiety. The social anxiety was an actual problem, though. Difficulty with authority? Well that was just seeing the world for what it was, wasn¡¯t it. High Priestess Julia Garin had even told Mark that she sent people to their deaths every day, hoping that they would survive, but knowing that if they didn¡¯t, that they had given their lives for the lives of everyone else.

    All of that made Mark angry in a way he wasn¡¯t quite sure how to handle¡ª

    Ah. Look at that.

    Mark watched as some people showed off their own anger problems.

    Up ahead, in what was B group, two pairs of people had somehow gotten tangled up together and now it was a real fight; a total brawl. Blood flew and so did teeth. Four very angry people snarled and grappled and yelled and punched.

    Mark glanced up at Instructor Nifty, still standing by his chair up there in the skybox¡ª

    And suddenly the group of four guys were separated.

    Mark hadn¡¯t seen it happen at all. Nifty never moved from his spot¡ª Or maybe he moved so fast Mark couldn¡¯t see¡­ Yeah. That was it. And the four guys fighting were all ten meters away from each other and glaring at enemies that were no longer where they were looking. One guy finished a punch and struck only air, tumbling to the sands and then standing up fast in surprise.

    So Nifty was really freaking fast, eh?

    Mark tried to catch sight of him on the field, among the other fights¡ª

    ¡°Time¡¯s up!¡± Badger called out.

    Every single fight ended in that moment, though some of them definitely would have continued on for at least a few more seconds, if people were still standing where they had been standing.

    Holy crap Nifty is fast.

    Mark maybe saw Nifty move. Maybe. The man flickered where he stood and every single pair of people still fighting got forcibly separated, to stand meters away from each other.

    Mark saw several people still laid out on the ground, but many of them were getting up already. Some of them gasped for breath and lurched to sit upright. A glance up at the healer group showed that many of them were breathing in unison. Looking at the crowds, watching for Union yet knowing he missed most of it, Mark saw the invisible wave of healing pass through the people. Faces healed. Blood vanished. Wounds closed. A broken arm reset fast, the woman it belonged to gasping as her limb flexed into position and the pain went away. Mark only noticed the truly bad cases, though. He was pretty sure¡ª

    Mark felt his breath taken from him, as his breathing lurched and bellowed briefly, and then the wave passed him by, letting him go, for he was already healed. The blonde guy¡¯s chest expanded in a deep breath and then faded away, and Mark was absolutely sure the guy didn¡¯t even notice he had breathed hard.

    Did anyone notice they had breathed hard?

    ¡­ Well yeah? Probably. Some people did, for sure. Maybe most people?

    Badger called out, ¡°And now, I reveal the full nature of Sparring Club 101! When I am done speaking, I will give actual instructions.

    ¡°Every winner from every bout will remain standing after every win! Every loser will remain seated! Every winner pairs up with a winner and every loser pairs up with a loser! You will then separate from others, and prepare to go in another minute! Every bout lasts 10 minutes or less. We get another minute for healing. And then we go again with different partners!

    ¡°S group stays on this side of the field, and F group stays over there by the entrance. The nature of this type of fighting means you will move up or down in the general area of fighting based on your performance. Let me repeat that in another way: You will not be fighting people in your own rank this whole time! You will be fighting people above your rank if you¡¯re good, or you¡¯ll keep moving down if you¡¯re bad. The top few people who remain in the arena, and don¡¯t get moved to a higher room, will be exchanging blows right below this instructor¡¯s booth for the next 4 weeks.

    ¡°It is entirely possible for an S to move all the way down to F, but the reverse is not going to happen. I still encourage Fs to try and move up in a responsible manner. Dexterous Body will not overcome basic Brawn, but you should certainly try.

    ¡°This is the nature of Sparring Club, and this is what we do here! We will not be giving you private fighting lessons! We are here to prevent you from killing yourselves or others! If you want fighting lessons then you will need to attend Sparring Class. Not club!

    ¡°Also!

    ¡°This is Body-power only time! The only exceptions are personal uses of Union, if you already qualify for that through the Chosen System. Heal yourself if you can! Save our healer squad some effort.

    ¡°NOW!

    ¡°Every winner stands! Every loser sits! Winners find each other first and make spaces for yourselves, and the losers get what is left. Spread out to the edges of the arena if you can!

    ¡°GO!¡±

    Mark remained standing, the blonde guy sat down, and Mark spotted a guy further up, in E group.

    The guy spotted him at the same time.

    Mark walked his way, and the guy rapidly tried to find someone else¡ª

    Mark almost burst out laughing. The guy didn¡¯t want to fight an F ranker! How fucking weird¡­

    Or maybe he recognized Mark as That Mark.

    Okay. Whatever.

    Mark turned and found someone else. He was a cocky looking guy. Mark wasn¡¯t sure the guy¡¯s rank, only that he was here with a smirk and ready to go¡ª

    Badger called out, ¡°Losers pair up! Everyone square up!¡±

    Mark and his new temporary friend squared up.

    Five minutes later, Mark stood over a guy who had been pretty strong but his footing had gotten all screwed up and it all went downhill from there.

    Mark held a hand down, saying, ¡°I¡¯m Mark. Nice to meet you.¡±

    The guy sighed as he slapped away Mark¡¯s hand, saying, ¡°And I lost to an F. Fuck me.¡±

    So not a friend there. That was fine¡ª

    ¡°Gods,¡± said the guy, as he glared up at Mark, ¡°What is your Talent anyway? You can¡¯t be a fucking F.¡±

    ¡°Healthy Body and Union,¡± Mark answered, nice to know that some people still didn¡¯t recognize him...

    ¡­ Wait.

    He had forgotten to use Union in that fight, didn¡¯t he. Badger had said he could, though, right?

    The guy looked like a weight had fallen off of him anyway. He collapsed onto his back, chuckling. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s not a bad loss. Nice to meet you, Mark. I¡¯m Sammo. Just a Tough Bo¡ª¡±

    ¡°Winners pair up!¡± Badger called, ¡°Losers pair up!

    Mark used Union to heal himself this time, but he still lost the fight. His opponent was a girl who had to have been a D rank speedster. It was over before Mark even knew it, too. A punch to the face, chest, and then stomach, all at once, and Mark was on the ground and someone was breathing for him for a brief moment. He laid there, his lungs working under someone else¡¯s control, and then he breathed easier, and he was back to doing his own active breathing.

    He couldn¡¯t keep Union going 100% of the time, but he could do it for a few hours a day, and with constant breaks.

    Mark looked up at the girl who laid him out. ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Mark. Nice to meet you. Never fought a speedster before. It was very enlightening.¡±

    The girl looked down at him with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m Harriet! Nice to meet you, Mark, and you managed to get your fists up! It¡¯s more than most people.¡±

    Mark gave a strained, ¡°Haa.¡±

    Harriet grinned. ¡°All this ain¡¯t gonna be your full strength anyway, right? You got that black metal thing going on.¡±

    ¡­ Ah. She knew who he was.

    Mark stressed himself to his limit and tried to be personable, ¡°Still gotta give it my all, you know.¡±

    ¡°With any luck, that dragon will turn out to be a good guy and then we can all just live happily in the cities! Course that won¡¯t be nearly as fun as exploring the world.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Haa, yeah,¡± Mark said, looking down.

    Okay. So. Yeah.

    Mark kinda dropped the ball there, but in his defense, Harriet was hitting a weak spot.

    Harriet squatted down so she could look at him directly. ¡°I¡¯m having a lot of trouble with it, too. Addashield killed a lot of people as he Fell, and then he never actually Fell! My brother was one of his victims. I¡¯m still coming to terms with it, but you look like you¡¯re screwed up about it a lot more than I am... Which is reasonable, uh, now that I¡¯m thinking about it¡­ Uh.¡±

    Mark felt floaty. He kinda disassociated from the situation, saying, ¡°I thought I was helping him so he could turn human and atone. Not for him to gain more power. But was that really my reason for doing it? Or because everyone told me I had to? I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Harriet got a worried look. ¡°¡­ Er. Sorry, dude. I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ I¡¯m an oversharer¡­ I, uh, I just meant to thank you for mitigating the dragon¡¯s¡­ uh. Uh¡­ Sorry.¡±

    Mark was back on solid ground again. He said a normal thing to say, ¡°Addashield is gone and the dragon turned out okay. This was the good outcome.¡±

    Harriet grinned. ¡°Yes! That¡¯s it! Right. Uh!¡± She laughed off herself, standing back up. ¡°Yes. This was the only possible good outcome! Demons are freaking nasty! Can¡¯t believe anyone contracts with them at all!¡±

    Mark probably nodded and said something else.

    And then Badger called out for a switch.

    Mark walked away from the instructors, in the direction toward the entrance. He found another guy who had lost a match.

    Mark beat the everloving shit out of the guy¡ª

    Mark stopped after maybe punching the guy too hard, because the guy collapsed backward into the sands and someone else started breathing for him. Mark almost panicked¡ª

    The guy¡¯s lungs inflated as the healers breathed deep for him, and then he blinked and woke up and breathed on his own.

    Mark instantly told him, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for hitting you that hard.¡±

    The guy chuckled and spoke in a thick Great Lakes accent, ¡°Hit a fella that hard and he might think you like him!¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°I¡¯d go out for drinks, but not as anything more than friends.¡±

    The guy laughed and sat up. ¡°I¡¯m always eager to make new friends. Cedric.¡±

    ¡°Mark,¡± Mark said. ¡°Really sorry about pushing that hard. I was¡­ Uh. Angry at something.¡±

    Cedric grinned. ¡°I¡¯m rank C Strong Body, 11/100. How about you?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Rank F Healthy Body, 8/100, and Union.¡±

    Cedric¡¯s eyes went wide as he breathed out ¡°Fuuuuu...¡± He breathed out, and then shook his head. ¡°I mean. Like. You got a great set of fists on you and that Union is an endorsement from Freyala, but slap me in the face! I fell that far down? To F rank! Shiiiet. I¡¯m so damned bad at this fist fighting. Guns and swords, my man Mark! Guns and swords! Man were meant to use our brains to fight not our stubby little hands!¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I¡¯m partial to spears. Swords are great, too.¡±

    ¡°I hoped to damned we get to use some proper weapons tomorrow¡ª¡±

    ¡°End round!¡± Badger called out. ¡°Move along!¡±

    Mark was already walking, saying, ¡°Catch you around, Cedric!¡±

    Cedric waved and nodded, and then he got up and went and found another loser.

    The total arena field was maybe 200 meters in diameter, so with 189 people all fighting, there was still plenty of space. Mark had started on the eastern edge of the arena, at the F group area, while the instructors and S group were all the way to the west.

    By the time Badger called out the end of the club for the day, there had been 10, 10 minute rounds.

    Mark had won 6 rounds and lost 4, and ended up a lot further north than when he started, rather than simply west, which was still well into what had been the C-rank area. He was bleeding, just like almost everyone else on the field, but he was able to heal up that bleeding rather easily, and so the blood was mostly just on his clothes; same as everyone, but in a different sort of way. He was still feeling quite strong, which was not the same as everyone at all. Healthy Body mostly gave endurance and, well, a Healthy Body, which was the very basic function of most Body-based Talents, but Union gave him energy to spare.

    Because of that staying power, Mark had made most of his strides westward in the second half of the club meeting, when most people were getting really tired.

    Badger spoke above the crowd, ¡°No major incidents today, which is fantastic. Aim for that every day! And now for the evaluation. Look where you are. If you started at a lower rank than where you are right now, and especially if you¡¯re an endurance based fighter, then you should consider starting tomorrow further east. But other than that, where you ended up is where you should be. I¡¯m gonna turn on some indicator lights and they¡¯re going to light above a few people. If you get a light, then you come over here for a talk and get in line. Everyone can leave after I turn on the lights!¡±

    Badger did something on a tablet and golden light danced in the air above several people, forming an indicator glow above them. A lot of people nearer to the instructors got lights on them, but there were a few lights far out in the arena, indicating people here and there.

    Mark did not get a glow.

    Badger said, ¡°Good showing everyone! Dismissed!¡±

    Mark bowed to the instructors, but only a few people did that and Mark felt kinda weird for bowing. He righted himself and walked out of the eastern entrance with all the rest of the crowd, taking his time because the crowd was thick and talkative.

    On his way out of the place Mark saw people talking with other people and making friends, or looking discouraged and furious at themselves. A few people looked his way, but most did not¡­

    There was Cedric, the rank C brawny who liked guns.

    Cedric fell in step with Mark, smiling, saying, ¡°Hey! You¡¯re just about the only F that kicked a whole lotta ass today!¡±

    Mark scoffed, even as he grinned. ¡°Rank isn¡¯t everything. I think I saw almost all of the morphers move pretty damned far up the ladder.¡±

    A few people around Mark and Cedric looked at them, and then they evaluated Mark. They rapidly moved on, though, because everyone was listening to everyone else. Or maybe that¡¯s not what happened at all. Mark knew he was, perhaps, hypersensitive to that sort of thing right now.

    Cedric asked, ¡°You gonna join the sparring class? Get more lessons?¡±

    ¡°Nah. I have way too much to do and not enough time to do it, so I¡¯m just doing the brawny club because I need to for personal experience and¡­ well. And fun. How about you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking I need some tutoring, so the class is gonna happen. I hope to Freyala I¡¯m never without my guns, but shiiiit that was bad news today. I didn¡¯t think I was that trash.¡±

    Mark grinned as he walked out into the sun, alongside Cedric. ¡°There¡¯s so many more S ranks than I thought possible. There¡¯s freaking¡ª over half of everyone there was either S or A¡ª When you add in a bit of B, I guess. This is top Talent, isn¡¯t it? Like you¡¯d find at Endless Academy?¡±

    Cedric snorted. ¡°No way. The Citadels are all about throughput; churning out as many people with Union as they can, as fast as possible. Everyone needs healers. They give us enough training to get real experience and save lives and then tell us to move the fuck on.¡±

    ¡°Citadel Freyala is still top talent.¡±

    Cedric grinned. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s why you¡¯re here, instead of at Endless Academy? They¡¯d take a Tri-Talent up there in a smash, yeah?¡±

    Ah.

    He knew who Mark was, too.

    Mark made a choice to be as personable as he could, saying, ¡°I¡¯m under demonic-influence observation, so this is where I am. It¡¯s a pretty nice place, though.¡±

    His voice probably came out stilted and broken.

    Cedric paid it no mind, saying, ¡°It is a nice place! I was thinking of doing Freyala Academy, but the Ecclesiastical Center in Citadel is all I really need. Four months and qualification for Chosen and I¡¯m out on a team in Daihoon, being a healer and a gunner. Taking the actual doctor learn¡¯n would be best, but I got a team waiting for me to get Chosen.¡±

    ¡°Do you have an assignment already?¡±

    ¡°Some provincial thing in a new settlement from the Aluathan Empire, across the Veil from Chicago. Just the normal sort of fortifying stuff, but it¡¯ll be near home, so I love it.¡± Cedric broke off down a different path, and paused. ¡°I¡¯m this way. Nice to meet you, Mark.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Nice to meet you, too.¡±

    Cedric rapidly admitted, ¡°I joked about getting drinks and I try to take it easy, but I¡¯m loaded busy, too. Catch you in club, though.¡± He was already walking away, saying, ¡°Or if you ever get to the gun range!¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°See you around.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll both be shooting little bits of metal around eventually!¡±

    Mark chuckled to hear that, but he wasn¡¯t sure why.

    Cedric was already down the way, walking.

    Mark went the other direction, to Building 5, to take a shower before he went to his next destination.

    ¡­ Could Cedric be a friend? Maybe.

 046

    Mark breathed calmly as he sat cross-legged on a meditation pillow.

    Inquisitor Lola Turner sat on a pillow of her own, a few meters away.

    The room was rather private and small. It was just a normal meditation room in Healing Hall, used for the sorts of things that Mark was using it for right now. It had good ventilation. Before last week, Healing Hall had seemed like just another building to him; a place of classrooms and lecture halls and all that sort of junk. But this place had exceedingly good ventilation.

    Fans on the roof, along with all of the air conditioning systems of Healing Hall, pumped and pulled air into and out of every room, cycling the air inside of every enclosed space rather quickly. This was because Union, as most people used it, was all about breathing in the good and exhaling the bad. In this way, a person was healed.

    This sort of healing produced miasma, which was sort of like pollution smoke, cow farts, and old garbage, all rolled into one particularly terrible scent.

    At least Mark couldn¡¯t smell it when he was the one exhaling it¡­ Not much, anyway.

    Anyway!

    Because of the way Union worked, and especially the versions that Freyala granted to her people, a priest of Freyala was always the first person healed on any battlefield. It was through this self-healing, that they then healed others. Mark had gotten pretty good at healing himself over the last 2 weeks of being here at Citadel Freyala.

    But now it was time to learn the next step.

    Lola breathed deeply, signaling the end of the preparatory meditation.

    Mark did the same.

    Between Mark and Lola, on the ground, were three potted plants that Mark did not recognize. They were the same species of plant; that was all Mark could tell. They kinda looked like sea sponges, but green. Maybe one of those aloe-vera plants that decided it would rather grow into tubes, than leaves. Or maybe a mushroom?

    ¡­ Maybe they were actually mushrooms?

    Nah. They were green.

    Lola said, ¡°You have advanced fast, Mark. Now that you have learned to use Union to heal yourself well, all that is left down that avenue is to expand your usage to full time, to learning to breathe positively despite surrounding miasmas, and other such impediments like being underwater, and to focus your healing efforts on speed and safety. All Union efforts are first focused on the user, so that we would never be the first to fall in a fight. From there, we can help others.

    ¡°That is what we will be learning today.

    ¡°What we have between us, in these three pots, are air plants known as cleaners. They come from Daihoon and they flourish in lands with miasma and pollution issues. They can¡¯t survive all that well in normal environments. This is them in their baseline state.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. He recognized them now! He had seen them in a book of geography, in that self-learning course he was taking. ¡°They use those in areas of nuclear fallout, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking nuclear cleaner. These are not those; those are much larger. There are hundreds of varieties of cleaner plants. Mages have been breeding them for various uses for thousands of years. These ones are ¡®shelter cleaner¡¯. They¡¯re used in bunker-type areas to keep those places free and clear of the miasma of huddled humanity, as they wait out the kaiju overhead. All cleaner plants are highly magical, and they¡¯re remarkably easy to maintain.

    ¡°These are some clippings from Healing Hall¡¯s garden that I have grown into full plants. You will grow them further through directed application of Union. It will be difficult. They do not breathe like you and I, but they do have a constant flow.

    ¡°Now that I have given you a goal, tell me how you plan to enact this instruction, from start to finish.¡±

    Mark had come a long way with Union, but he wasn¡¯t sure how to breathe with another being, yet. He couldn¡¯t start with animals, but he could start with plants, which is what he was set to do right now.

    ¡­ But how?

    There were potentially a lot of moving parts here, or not many at all. To use Union, all Mark needed to do was ¡®breathe out the bad and breathe in the good¡¯, which, according to Freyala herself, was more like ¡®partaking in the union of life, where beings exchanged what they didn¡¯t need with what others didn¡¯t need, and thus all life thrived better¡¯.

    Mark started spitballing, ¡°I would need to breathe slowly, I assume, in order to match the¡­ the very slow movement of air through the cleaners¡ª I assume that air flows into those little holes in the bottom and then out the top?¡± Mark put a hand over one of the plants. ¡°Oh. The inside is warmer than the outside, so it moves up through convection¡­ Or something. Okay¡­ maybe¡­ I need to stretch my astral body over them? Still not sure how to do that at all.¡±

    Astral bodies were the way in which a person enacted their power upon the world, and they were only about double or triple the size of the person. That was all the range a normal person ever had with their ability to influence things, but there were lots of tricks to extend range. You could increase the size of an aura at the cost of density, but that was just a theoretical possibility to Mark as of this moment. He still didn¡¯t know how to move his astral self, or even perceive his astral self, at all. He was using his Talents on instinct, without much direction.

    That would need to change.

    Lola nodded at Mark¡¯s answer, then she said, ¡°In the beginning, you will likely need to touch another to bring them into your Union. This is the same for almost all Powers. Your adamantiumkinesis only works at touch range at first. General body powers, like tactile telekinesis only work at touch range. Union works over vast distances because it can be made airy rather easily. Union¡¯s normal nature is to be diffuse and ephemeral.

    ¡°But you will start off with touch-based communication. Try to establish a Union link with a plant now. Leave healing for a little later. Just go for a Union, for now. Figure out that part, first.¡±

    Okay, so, Mark had jumped the gun quite a bit when it came to using Union on one of the cleaner plants. First he needed to actually establish a Union. Which. Fair. He had kinda glossed over that necessity.

    Mark reached out and touched the plant on the left, putting two fingers onto one of the tube-like structures extending up out of the brown soil. The whole plant was about a foot tall and half of that wide, and made out of 6 differently-sized green tubes. It felt like touching a cactus; a little velvety but rather firm. It had a few succulent-like leaves poking out of the cracks between the tubes.

    ¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing¡ª

    There it was.

    Mark had no conceptual idea of how to frame what he was feeling-sensing-knowing, but he felt himself link to the¡ª

    And then it was over.

    Blink and you¡¯d miss it.

    Just like that, Mark had been linked to the plant in a Union, and then he was knocked out of the link, somehow. What had chan¡ª

    Mark realized.

    At least a part of him needed to be in sync with the plant, and since the plant breathed, Mark had been briefly linked to it through his breath, but then Mark had fallen out of sync, and thus the Union was broken.

    ¡­ Did that flow of air up through the plant count as exhalation?

    Mark slowed his breathing, matching the slow exhale of the plant¡ª

    It was like falling into a groove.

    Mark breathed out his badness, slowly¡ª

    The plant started to glow and thrive. It even grew a little, the tubes of it expanding up into the air like a pipe organ growing taller.

    Mark smiled as he carefully controlled his breath, letting it out slowly and carefully. When he reached the end of his breath, he lost the groove; the cleaner plant stopped growing and the glow soon faded.

    ¡­ And then, on a whim, and thinking that maybe the slow flow of air was maybe an ¡®inhale¡¯, too, Mark reversed his flow. He breathed in the good.

    The plant started to grow and glow once again as Mark matched his breath to the flow of air coming out of the top of the plant. And then a strange thing happened. The plant started to rush ahead of Mark, and Mark almost fell out of the groove because the plant was breathing a lot faster now.

    Mark reached the end of his inhale, and the plant slowly lost its glow while Mark changed directions. When he exhaled the bad again, the plant resumed glowing and growing, underneath Mark¡¯s fingertips.

    Mark was linked to it, now.

    He had no idea why it grew and glowed on both inhale and exhale, when they were very different actions, but he would figure that out later.

    He knew if he pulled away, that he could maintain his connection, so that is the first experiment Mark did. Slowly, Mark lifted his fingers. For a moment there his connection faltered, but then Mark ¡ªsomehow¡ª reached out through his breath and reconnected to the glowing green tubes.

    Mark looked to the other two plants, and wondered¡ª

    In that moment, without touching the other two, he felt himself connect to their own slow breathing¡ª

    He lost it.

    Like a discordant note, the first plant stopped glowing and the small tether he had established to the other two snapped like spider silk. Mark coughed a little, but that soon passed. He was left looking at the three plants, one of which was easily 3 or 4 times the size of the other two.

    For a long minute, Mark just looked at the plants, thinking.

    Lola waited, and then she asked, ¡°What do you think was the cause of the failure?¡±

    Mark instantly said, ¡°The first plant has a lot more air tubes so it breathes faster than the others.¡±

    ¡°Correct. How would you fix this issue? Speak your thoughts, please.¡±

    Mark thought for a second, then began, ¡°Well¡­ I have felt you take control of my breathing many times, and maybe I could¡­ force the first one to slow down, or speed up the other two, but¡­ But that seems dangerous. In the future, I will have to link a whole team together and ensure that they are all healthy¡ª Oh. Is my Healthy Body interfering in this whole thing?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°It is, but not to the extent you imagine, and yet also in very deep, profound sorts of ways. For now, just consider it a 5 to 15% proficiency boon. Different brawnies with different Body Talents have different numbers and influences they impart with those numbers. Continue on with your thought process. You have not confronted the main issues.¡±

    Mark nodded a little as he looked to the plants. ¡°I could force them to breathe differently, but that seems dangerous. I¡¯ve seen the healers at brawny sparring link to the entire arena of people, and all of the people on the ground have slightly different breathing rates¡­ but I suppose if you¡¯re just breathing for them, then their own rates don¡¯t matter? Is that what I need to do? Breathe for the plants? Only use that initial connection to force a proper breathing at the same rate?¡±

    Lola smiled a little. She said, ¡°You have linked to a plant, and now you need to realize that you are still linked to all the world. Once the plant is a part of your Union, when you breathe in, the plant takes from the world what it needs. When you breathe out, the plant releases the things it doesn¡¯t need. Eventually, when you do this across enough of a system of living things, you will begin to feel your astral body like it is a limb you didn¡¯t know you had, and you can let other people breathe at their own rates, for most things.

    ¡°That astral body is what is actually doing all the lifting in this whole endeavor; the breathing is a physical action that cements the astral action, but the astral action is the only one that actually matters. Your astral body is working in ways that are beyond your comprehension for now, but that will eventually change.

    ¡°When you understand your self, you will find that Union has a very large range, because Union is ephemeral. It is more like a whisper of wind, and not solid like a kinetic power at all, or locked to your body like a Body power.

    ¡°Eventually, you might be able to forgo using the physical action to create the astral action, but probably not. Not wholly. Instead, I recommend diversity. There are a lot of different rhythms of life you can fall into, to link yourself to others, to heal yourself and others at the same time. Before you try and forgo physical action, if you ever find yourself unable to work something fast enough, touch a new rhythm that you share with another and try to work Union through that.

    ¡°But for now, link with all three plants through your breath. Force the link. Breathe in the good of the world and then breathe out the bad.¡±

    Mark looked at the plants and he breathed in, easily connecting to the larger plant, even without touching it. He felt it now, as he did that; he felt how he connected to the world, and to the plant, and to himself.

    They were just there, part of a system.

    It was almost like Mark had cast filaments of transference into the world itself, and those ¡®spiderwebs¡¯ had soaked into the first plant, allowing the plant to act over a much larger area than it otherwise could.

    Maybe like roots, in a forest, allowing some trees to share nutrients with other trees that had less, so that invasive species couldn¡¯t get footholds into their Union.

    With that thought, adding in the smaller two plants was easy.

    The smaller plants were a lot slower-breathing than the first one, but they took to the increased rate of breath easily enough. Mark was absolutely sure that the larger plant was getting more of a benefit from Mark¡¯s ¡®spider web¡¯ of Union right now. But it was a large plant, and it had all the nutrients that the smaller plants needed, since they were all the same sort of plant.

    All the plants glowed. All of them were growing.

    Mark reached the end of his inhale. On the turnaround, the plants faded a bit, and then Mark began to exhale the bad.

    All the plants resumed glowing and growing.

    Mark smiled.

    He went through a few cycles. He tried to figure out how to minimize the downtime when he reversed his breathing; to disengage the physical action from the astral body action. But he had no idea what his astral body was really doing except for ¡®being there and allowing transference¡¯, and that revelation didn¡¯t seem to be enough to keep it going in the downtime¡ª

    Oh.

    Roots sharing nutrients. Plants with sap that moved through their bodies.

    A heartbeat, pumping blood.

    Mark connected to the plants with his heartbeat, and just like that, he created a Union that didn¡¯t need breath. Mark breathed in and out normally, without focusing on the good and bad, and his heart pumped blood and Union to all three plants¡­

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Were there good and bad heartbeats?

    Mark frowned a little, wondering about that. The plants continued to dimly glow and slowly grow, unconcerned with Mark¡¯s question of what he was really doing, and if heartbeats could be good, or bad¡ª

    And then his heart skipped a beat and Mark reflexively breathed in the good to steady himself. The Union broke. The world narrowed briefly, black closing in, but Mark rallied and blinked and he was fully awake once again.

    Mark almost fainted.

    Mark maintained.

    He shuddered.

    Lola waited.

    Mark collected his thoughts, and then said, ¡°So¡­ Not sure what happened there.¡±

    ¡°What did you try to do? Go through it step by step.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Mark said, ¡°I got the breathing thing right, and linked them all, but then I tried to minimize the downtime during the breath-turnaround, and I realized that plants share nutrients through roots and they have blood-like systems, and that I have an actual blood system. So I linked the beat of my Heart to their beats and¡­ oh. My heart slowed way, way down, didn¡¯t it.¡± Mark looked at his chest and felt his heart, and said, ¡°It felt fine, though?¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°You won¡¯t kill yourself with a normal application of this power, since Talents naturally insulate their users from the worst backlashes of their use. But you can certainly injure yourself. From being unable to lift adamantium, so you lay there under the astral weight of it all, to having your heart slow down so much that you pass out and your Union automatically deactivates; these are normal sorts of failures that you will experience. Other than that, I am rather proud of you, Mark, for arriving at heartbeat-linking all on your own, and to have such a good first try.¡±

    Mark felt a little brighter at that comment.

    Lola continued, ¡°Breath-linking is the first step to learning how to use Union on other people. Somewhere in there, a person usually learns how to protect as well as heal, though heal always comes first. You have skipped a step or three, and arrived at blood-linking. This is about a month earlier than I had anticipated, but everyone progresses at different rates and I can certainly adjust to your pace. You might discover other ways of linking, but for now, we should work on blood-linking and breath-linking and leave all other ideas on the table.

    ¡°These two forms of Union are more than enough to see you very far.

    ¡°A standard acolyte of Freyala gets Union of Breath for healing and protection.

    ¡°A cleric or someone who has become a solid member of the church gets Union of Breath and a little of Blood.

    ¡°A priest or paladin gains a stronger Union of Breath and Union of Blood. Sometimes they even gain the offensive versions of these magics.

    ¡°There are other, deeper and more dangerous forms of Union gifted to Inquisitors and otherwise, but I would ask you not to explore those yet, or to even really consider them. They can be dangerous, and you have not even touched upon protection magics yet. You need those protection magics because they can help insulate you from fainting like you almost did. Protection magics will likely become the way in which you most use Union for the rest of your normal life.

    ¡°As for healing magics: I asked you to forgo focusing on things other than ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯ to start, for you are not a doctor and you don¡¯t need to go treading into things like how blood works, or how plants actually breathe.¡±

    Mark felt like he had found and crossed a milestone without even realizing how far he had come. It felt great. He smiled a little, and said, ¡°I can promise that.¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°Thank you. Now, since you have advanced to this point, we should go back to breathing, and work on protection magics. This time, instead of working with the concepts of ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯, I want you to consider the ideas of ¡®durability¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯. Breathe in durability, breathe out weakness.

    ¡°I do not want you to focus on specific durability, like in the skin, or in the bones. Don¡¯t focus on specific weaknesses, either, like expelling the weakness of your astral body, like you have learned already.

    ¡°Just use the words ¡®durability¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯ in your breathing efforts, and gradually expand what you consider to be durability, and what you consider to be weakness.

    ¡°I have no doubt that you will find better words later in life to provide better, more precise effects. This is especially true if you decide to learn the magical languages of Daihoon. But I ask you to forgo other possible words at this time. Focus on the lessons I have given you, and what you have already uncovered.¡± Lola took out a small knife from the interior of her robes. It was not the mithril knife, for that one had all sorts of simple adornments on it. The one she held was not a normal knife, though. It was red. ¡°I will be cutting the plants to test your ability to protect, when you are ready.

    ¡°Intake durability, expel weakness.

    ¡°Begin.¡±

    Mark nodded, and then he started breathing and linking the air plants into his Union.

    That much was easy enough. Every inhale and exhale caused the plants to grow and glow. The green bundles of tube-like cactus spilled warmth up into the room through their central vents.

    Mark breathed in ¡®durability¡¯, and felt kinda strange doing that. He wasn¡¯t sure how to understand what he was feeling, but he knew he didn¡¯t like it. Not really. Did he feel¡­ stiff? Mark moved his fingers as he breathed in durability, and found that he was a little numb. So that was wrong.

    The plants seemed to love this, though. They glowed brightly and parts of the plants that had been growing oddly, suddenly straightened up. Mark hadn¡¯t even noticed the plants were growing oddly until they got better, their tubes smoothing out, the lights evening to a full-gentle brightness, like teeny-tiny LEDs illuminating under the surfaces of the tubes, and the leaves.

    Mark reached the end of his inhale of durability.

    He expelled weakness, which he was much more familiar with, since he had been doing that for weeks now. That was one of the first things that he had learned about Union on his own, when he considered the idea of ¡®weakness in his astral body¡¯ to be a problem. Every so often, his power would just fail, because he had reached the end of his astral body¡¯s strength. But Mark found he could speed up the recovery time of his astral body by expelling weakness. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what he was doing when he did that, but he thought it might be a ¡®lactic acid leaving the muscles¡¯ sort of thing, or maybe ¡®muscle damage leaving¡¯ like how he assumed healing magic worked.

    Mark breathed out weakness and a thin mist of miasma flowed away on his breath¡ª

    Something very weird happened.

    The miasma he exhaled usually smelled like death, and it usually got everywhere, like how the smell of burnt toast spread fast. But this time, Mark¡¯s gentle exhale of smoke threaded through the air, to vanish into the world. That miasma came back out of the air, though, like smoke guided into the intake holes at the bottom of each cleaner plant. The plants began to practically glitter. The lights inside of them shimmered. Mark was giving up what he didn¡¯t need to the world, and the plants were taking that out from the world and using it for their own benefit. Was there power even in weakness?

    Mark supposed so.

    It was magical.

    Lola took her red knife and sliced into a thick leaf on the side of the middle plant. It was so quick and final that Mark would have missed it had he not been looking. It was like cutting into green-skinned gelatin. The exposed thickness of watery insides glowed like a fiber optic wire, and water dripped. The clipped-off bit of green plopped onto the dirt in the pot.

    Lola said, ¡°Keep going.¡±

    Mark breathed in durability.

    The plants turned solid. Mark did too, in an uncomfortable way. He did as instructed anyway.

    Lola swiped her knife through another big succulent-like knife, and the knife skidded off the leaf.

    Mark¡¯s breath caught, which threw him out of Union.

    Lola grinned. ¡°Good job, Mark. Very good. I am sure you have questions, so ask them.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Durability feels stiff. I do not like it. The plants can¡¯t really like it either, do they? I mean¡­ they¡¯re sure glowing a lot, which I think is a good thing, but they can¡¯t like being that stiff.¡±

    Lola smiled gently. ¡°That is a nuance of working with plants, and one that you will figure out how to fix when you advance to working with other people, though working with other people will give you a whole different set of experiences to solve.

    ¡°I will give you another hint, though, and that is to broaden your idea of what ¡®durability¡¯ means, as I have already advised. Personally, I use two concepts the most. The first is the ¡®good/bad¡¯ dichotomy, for healing. The second is ¡®durability/weakness¡¯, for protection. My concepts of those various ideas are very large, and so I do not have the stiffness you are experiencing when I use protection for plants. Tell me: what does durability mean to you?¡±

    Mark had never really thought about that before, but he supposed¡­

    ¡°Durability means resistance to damage?¡± Mark asked, ¡°It feels like ¡®durability¡¯ isn¡¯t the best word to use here, then? Would something like ¡®resilience¡¯ work better?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°You might find better success with that word, but the reason for the common split of good/bad for healing and durability/weakness for protection is because ¡ªunless you have a strange idea of what the word means¡ª ¡®resilience¡¯ is about the ability to recover quickly, and that cuts into the concept of ¡®good/bad¡¯. What you need in your protection magics is more resistance to damage in the first place, and ¡®durability¡¯ does that quite well.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went a little wide. ¡°Oh!¡± He thought. ¡°¡­ Should I add the concept of ¡®resilience¡¯ to ¡®good/bad¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Unless you come to Freyala with a Mind Talent, a person only has so much personal capability with stretching their mind. Neither you or I have a Mind Talent. Personally, I have found it best to have three beneficial modes and a host of specific injurious modes. Of the beneficial modes: I heal, I protect, and I do both at the same time, though doing both at the same time is not nearly as powerful as doing one or the other in full. The injurious modes are something we will cover at a later date.¡± Lola looked to Mark, to see if he understood.

    Mark nodded with no small amount of comprehension.

    At its base, Mark understood that Union was about creating a unified system to rapidly exchange resources and otherwise with each other, and with the world, based along ephemeral ideas of intent and meaning. He also understood that he was still starting off with this stuff, and it would take a lifetime to fully understand Union.

    Let¡¯s not try to work in dealing damage just yet.

    Lola continued, ¡°Now, let us return to the concepts of durability and weakness, and what they truly mean. Durability is the ability to resist damage. You should try including ideas of resisting the damages of all of the various Powers out there, based on the idea of a high Power Level in all categories, of Body, Kinetic, Mind, Natural, Arcane, and Arch.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide again. ¡°I saw some ¡®shielding stock¡¯ in a store in Central Citadel that promised to increase a person¡¯s defense against Powers to tier 2. Is that actually an application of Union?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°I am unsure which place you are referring to, so I can only give a guess, and say that it is possible. Highly likely, really. Power shields are one of the primary items that the Church of Freyala sells, but there are many different ways to accomplish a shield. If someone was selling them in an open market here then they probably have a Talent for making items, and they got Freyala¡¯s blessing. The church, however, donates them to acolytes and cities all the time, and rarely sells them on the open market.¡± After that short explanation, Lola nodded toward the plants.

    Mark got back to it.

    Soon, Lola was clipping her red knife into the tubes of the plants whenever Mark inhaled, and occasionally whenever Mark exhaled. The plants might have sparkled a lot on the exhale, when smoky miasma flowed from Mark, so they obviously liked that, but Lola¡¯s knife dug into them quite handily whenever Mark was expelling weakness. It was only on the inhale, on the intake of durability, that Lola¡¯s knife skidded off of the green plants.

    Eventually, Lola told Mark to try incorporating blood-Union into the mix.

    Mark almost-fainted twice.

    He ¡®fixed¡¯ that by bringing the plants up to his own speed of heartbeat.

    The plants exploded.

    It didn¡¯t seem like they were going to explode, but the event had started off with the plants venting sap and clear gel and seeming to bulge and twist and then they exploded in a gooey mess.

    Mark sat there, goo on his face.

    Lola sat there, goo everywhere.

    And then Lola started chuckling.

    Mark smiled and laughed.

    It was good to laugh.

    Lola grinned, and then gestured to the plants. ¡°So do you know what you did wrong?¡±

    He wiped the goo out of his eyes, saying, ¡°I brought them up to my level of heartbeat so that I did not faint, and they could not handle that at all.¡±

    ¡°Correct. This can be an offensive form of Union, in this sort of situation.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh! Shit!¡±

    Lola grinned. ¡°Oh shit indeed.¡± She said, ¡°Your own Power will insulate you quite well from your own Power, as all Powers do, but it will not insulate others, and especially not the mindless. Mindless plants cannot fight you. An Awakened person could. A baseline could not. You will not encounter this specific problem when healing or protecting other people, unless they are very weak, so the old or infirm, but this explosion always serves as a good lesson to people with the true Union Talent, or to people like me who have been given a large portion of Freyala¡¯s original Power.¡± Lola gestured at the plants again. ¡°They¡¯re still alive, but heavily wounded. Heal them to full, healer.¡±

    Mark nodded and got started, slowing down his heart through astral body control (still didn¡¯t know how he did that), to link more cleanly with the cleaner plants. The cleaner plants spurted, but Mark controlled himself more, and soon he was breathing in ¡®good¡¯ and breathing out ¡®bad¡¯. On a whim, and because it felt right, he included the idea of ¡®healing the damage of suffocation¡¯ to his idea of ¡®good¡¯, and suddenly a small weakness of consciousness vanished from his mind, and Mark was fully awake once again. Mark had only barely recognized that he was on the way toward fainting again, and then the problem was gone. The plants grew better, Mark didn¡¯t faint even though he breathed way too slow and his heartbeat was even slower than it should be, and soon, the plants were fully healed. When the cleaners were once again 2-foot tall bundles of green-tube cacti, with a bunch of succulent leaves on the bottom and glowing internally, Mark cut off the Union.

    Mark felt pretty awesome, and the plants looked¡­ Well. They looked amazing. Mark had never been one for plants and there was still goo on his everywhere and all over the room, but this was pretty cool.

    Lola looked upon Mark with a kindness. She said, ¡°You did very well today, Mark. Exceedingly well. But this is where we should stop.¡± She began to stand. ¡°You can help me get the big plants back to the nursery, and I¡¯ll clean up the mess once we¡¯re out of the room.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the lesson.¡±

    Soon, Mark had a plant in both arms as he stood outside of the room. Lola moved the third plant out of the room for a moment, before she turned back to the space and used a cleansing breath to wipe away all the exploded plant parts from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and the furniture. Mark almost wanted to ask her how she did that, but he¡¯d get there eventually. Not right now, though. He had a lot of things to practice.

    As Lola held one plant in her arms and Mark held two, they walked down toward the nursery, with Lola talking about the session and Mark asking questions about this and that. When they put the plants back in the nursery, Lola suggested another scan.

    ¡°Will my numbers really improve that much?¡±

    ¡°I suspect today will be a large jump in Power Level across the board.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh!¡±

    Well that was exciting.

    Soon, Mark stood in the closet scanner and got a readout.

    Body, Healthy Body: 011

    Shaper, Adamantium: 010

    Mind: 8

    Natural, Union: 016

    Soul: 7

    Arch: 6

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide at his readout, floating in front of him in the scanning closet. He had been at 8, 6, 2, 9, 2, 2, just earlier today. And now he was tier 1 in three different categories. Union had nearly doubled.

    Mark dismissed the floating words with a wave of his hand and stepped out of the scanner room, saying, ¡°011, 010, 8, 016, 7, 6. Tier one already? Even in the stuff I wasn¡¯t focused on?¡±

    Lola grinned. ¡°Sounds correct to me. You reached for and achieved a big milestone today, Mark. Now we should talk about what comes next.¡±

    Mark felt she had skipped past how much he had grown in a single day, but maybe not. Maybe this much was normal. Power Levels would taper off when he began to fully understand himself, and then not go much further beyond those expected ¡®maximum levels¡¯. Power Levels weren¡¯t all that important until they vitally were, but even in combat people just used scanners to read the tier and category of monsters in order to move their teams around to survive and exterminate the enemy; they didn¡¯t care about specific PL¡¯s.

    Mark asked, ¡°What comes next?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°You¡¯re going to be here at Citadel for a while, and you eventually desire to fight the biggest monsters in the world, so I advise you to sign up for Social Club. I believe I spoke of that a while ago, but I am bringing it up again. You cannot fight alone, and you need people who can match you for power, and so, the Social Club is where they gather, or are gathered.

    ¡°But! To begin with, we have Xerkona Etiquette, which is the Social Class to the club. The Class takes place in the afternoon, in the residential district of Citadel, at the Clubhouse. You must participate in the class and get a pass for the club. In the participation of those classes, you will learn how to move in the circles you want to move within; the leaders and the superheroes, where they decide which kaiju to kill, which dragons to parlay with, and what parts of the world need to be blown up that week.¡±

    Mark felt the world crystallize.

    Ah, he thought.

    My biggest fears and my biggest ambitions, all in one place.

    Mark asked, ¡°Surely I don¡¯t need to¡­ uh¡­ do that right now?¡±

    Lola nodded knowingly, and then she dropped a bomb, ¡°Usually, a tier 1 acolyte is eligible to participate in training missions. You¡¯re still under demonic observation for the next 7 months, but you can still go on training missions. That means venturing on short trips past the wall, into the wilderness, to hunt monsters while being a part of a team and under the observation of some accompanying paladins. So join Social Club and make acquaintances with some people for the purposes of training missions, if nothing else.¡±

    Mark¡¯s social anxiety evaporated.

    Mark easily said, ¡°Those are very good reasons to join Social Club and the etiquette class.¡±

    Lola slightly smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad you agree. The class meets in 30 minutes at the Clubhouse in the residential district. If you run, you can make it.¡±

    Mark blanked.

    And then he started running, saying, ¡°See you later, Lola!¡±

    Lola gave a little bow.

 047

    Mark stepped off of the tram in the residential district, wondering if he was making a mistake¡ª

    Correction.

    He knew he was making a mistake, and the only way to get better was to make mistakes.

    Time to be brave, Mark, he told himself.

    For the last 10 minutes, ever since the tram entered this part of town, Mark only saw opulence. From towering mansions four stories tall to gardens filled with roses to fountains and hovercars; the residential district of Citadel Freyala was a place of richness. Of nobility and power. But this, right here, was the heart of it all.

    ¡®The Clubhouse¡¯.

    A parking lot with hovercars, with each space with a number on it. A wide reflection pool and a massive fountain of Freyala with wings in the middle. Tall oaks and other sorts of trees, several of which were in full bloom with bright white flowers each the size of dinner plates. Flowered vines trailed up brick buildings here and there, scenting the air with jasmine. The buildings themselves looked fancy in ways that Mark had never really known, except outside of a screen, in the movies. Everything was built large. Too large, really. Massive archways. Pillars. Wide stairways.

    A few people were out and about. All of them wore fine clothes, with multiple layers of dress for the women and stuffy suits for the men. Mark only had his basic brown clothes on, for that is all he could afford. ¡®Free¡¯ was a very good price point for him.

    It was 2 minutes to the start of Xerkona Etiquette Class 101.

    So Mark put his hesitation aside and walked forward, trying not to run too much, toward the front entrance of the place, up a wide, courthouse-sized staircase. A man in a silver/grey suit stood beside the open archway, near a thin podium. The guy was older and stern, but he did not look angry. Mark felt the guy should have been angry at seeing some shit of a kid walking up in basic brown.

    Mark approached, flinched as he felt a spike of worry in his gut, and then stood up straight. His voice did not break as he asked, ¡°Hello? I am looking for Xerkona Etiquette Class 101. Could you please direct me where I need to go?¡±

    The man gave the smallest of nods and politely said, ¡°The day¡¯s class is meeting in Orange Hall, Mister Careed.¡±

    Okay. So the guy knew him. Okay.

    Mark steeled himself, and asked, ¡°Is it going to be weird to show up wearing basic brown?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but this is not outside of expectations for acolytes and otherwise. You will be judged for this anyway.¡±

    Mark wanted to turn right back around¡­ But he squared his shoulders, and said, ¡°Thank you¡­ sir.¡±

    As if it wasn¡¯t phenomenally weird that the old man knew Mark¡¯s name already, he then said, ¡°Good luck killing kaiju. I look forward to your rise through the ranks of society. Orange Hall is inside, to the right, and then around the way. There are signs.¡±

    Mark felt his heart beat hard, and then he nodded and walked through the giant archway leading inside, to the Clubhouse.

    A bar with crystal glasses and people in expensive clothes drinking expensive drinks. Stone floor that looked like marble. High roof that held chandeliers, filled with light and frescoes and wow were those beautiful. Big windows overlooking gardens where people took lunch in the sun. It was all so opulent.

    People looked at Mark and judged his clothes. They would probably be doing that a lot¡ª

    A gold-colored metallic sign held on the side of the foyer over there, on the right side, in front of a hallway. It read ¡®Orange Hall and Red Room¡¯. Mark started walking that way¡ª

    Oh.

    The Clubhouse was set up in the Power Hex. The Blue and Green wings were to the left from the entrance. Yellow was the big area beyond the glass of the foyer, maybe. Or maybe it was further beyond that area. Maybe the eating area was in the center. Orange and Red were over here, on the right hand side.

    Mark passed through a whole wing of the Clubhouse with little red sconces on the walls, and then he entered an archway that led to Orange Hall, as indicated by the color of the sconces on the walls.

    There was a side room, or maybe a back grand hall. A doorway. A plaque held beside that door read Etiquette Class 101. Even from beyond the room, Mark saw people inside who were his own age. They were dressed finely.

    ¡­ For a moment, Mark saw himself hesitating. He didn¡¯t have time to hesitate, but he hesitated anyway.

    This was going to be difficult. He¡¯d be meeting people who came from much larger backgrounds than him and he¡¯d be expected to interact with them in a personable manner¡­

    And then Mark thought of Addashield¡¯s High Dragon, and his fears fell away. He had much bigger things to fear than people his own age.

    That sort of helped.

    Mark went inside.

    It was a banquet hall with three separate tables, each a good five meters long and set up to the left, right, and far side from the door. People were standing around, talking with each other and waiting. To the left of the room stood a man in white robes who might have been the teacher of the class, Mark wasn¡¯t sure. He was an older guy with white hair, who was currently tapping away at a tablet¡ª

    The man set the tablet down and then looked up, and spoke to everyone, ¡°Class begins. Come to attention, please.¡±

    Some training took over.

    Mark stepped to the side, getting out of the way of the door to stand halfway facing the door, and half-facing the middle of the room. He stood with squared shoulders and an even expression, with his eyes level and his feet shoulder-width apart. Some people stood like him. Others just stood where they were. Some faced the front. Most faced the instructor.

    The instructor stepped to the entrance of the room, and then he walked forward one step. He looked to Mark, and asked him, ¡°Why did you stand like that, at that weird angle?¡±

    Grandpa had taught him this.

    Mark said, ¡°In the absence of knowing the highest power in the room, you must stand facing the door and the center of the room, if you can¡­ Er¡­ Are you the power in the room?¡±

    Mark might have made a miscalculation somewhere; he only realized this after the fact.

    The Xerkona man nodded and walked on, toward the center of the room, saying, ¡°I am not the power in this room, but also, I am. We¡¯ll go over that later. For now, pretend I am just another person. Therefore, standing as the young man is standing is the correct stance to take. There are variations based on multiple entrances to rooms and such, and we will encounter them in the next week. For now, everyone correct yourself.¡±

    The people in the room moved to obey, rotating a little or not, depending on where they stood.

    The professor stepped to the center of the room, turned and said, ¡°I am Mage Wavecrash. Welcome to Xerkona Etiquette 101; the start of a new week and a new lesson plan. This Class repeats every week, in mostly the same fashion, and most of you will pass this class in a few days, or later. You do not have to come to further classes after you pass. Most of you are only here to be eligible for Social Club, which is easy enough to achieve.

    ¡°Once I sign off on you, you¡¯re eligible to attend the club, which is usually held at a different noble¡¯s house every weekend, on Saturday. They plan these things out long in advance. If you are eligible to attend Social Club, you can look up who is hosting that week on COFR.

    ¡°I will be teaching you all Xerkona Etiquette for mercenaries.

    ¡°I do not teach etiquette for nobility; that is a mire that is as deep as the ocean. The hope is that by the time I sign off on you for the club that you will be able to walk into any sort of proper space and act with honor, in order to receive honor in return. Exactitude is not necessary. The rules of Xerkona Etiquette are not set in stone. The only truly important thing is to always act with the highest level of personal honor that you can achieve.

    ¡°And now, you may take out your phones.¡±

    ¡­ Er? Phones?

    Mark looked around, and saw a few people who were confused and most people who simply did as told.

    Mark brought out his phone, and the screen flickered COFR gold, and then morphed into words.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡®THE EMPIRE OF FOODSTUFFS!¡¯

    What followed were lessons that grandpa had taught Mark growing up, but done in a rather novel way.

    Mark was ¡®Mister Apple¡¯; a persona assigned to him by the program.

    It was his goal to talk to people and protect the nation from falling.

    It was kind of a surreal experience that involved Mark walking around the room according to the directions on his phone and talking with people according to what his phone told him to say, though he could choose to freestyle as he desired. He did not desire to freestyle at all. He picked the prompts that sounded best.

    ¡­ It was kinda fun.

    A lot of fun, actually.

    Mark approached a pair of people, like his phone told him, but those two people were engaged with a third person. They were in the middle of their own scripts. According to Mark¡¯s script, he had to greet them and find out their names in the process of telling them about a rumor he heard about someone named ¡®Mister Peach¡¯, without interrupting their conversation unduly. Mark¡¯s name for this interaction was ¡®Mister Apple¡¯.

    His goal here was to find out names, but his larger goal was to secure the eastern front.

    Guy #1 read off of his phone to the third person, ¡°The eastern front is starting to fall apart. We need provisions that Mister Mountain is unable to provide. My compatriot and I have heard that you are able to provide meats to our soldiers, Madame Riverlands.¡±

    Madame Riverlands, the third person, read, ¡°The Riverlands has a great many resources available to those in need, but we cannot give away foods without gaining something in return, Mister Garden.¡±

    Guy #1 in Mark¡¯s script suddenly changed, his name filling in as Mister Garden. Mark still didn¡¯t know who the girl with Mister Garden was, though, so ¡®Girl #1¡¯ remained Girl #1, and Mark did not have an opening in the conversation to ask her name, or to share his own script. It was possible that she was ¡®Misses Garden¡¯, but that could be wildly inaccurate.

    Girl #2 glanced at Mark with wide eyes, trying not to be too circumspect in recognizing Mark as Mark. A lot of people had been doing that, actually. She said nothing. A lot of people had tried to say something to Mark about who he was, but Instructor Wavecrash told them all to stick to the script or freehand the storyline; this was not a gossip class.

    Mister Garden said to Riverlands, ¡°Should the eastern front fall, then your lands will be in danger as well.¡±

    Riverlands said to Garden, ¡°And if we should give away our meat it will be just as bad as falling, for starvation is a danger to us all.¡±

    Mark¡¯s phone flickered, and he saw an opening. He spoke up, ¡°Pardon me. I¡¯m Mister Apple, and I could not help but overhear that the eastern front is having supply issues. I¡¯ve heard that Mister Peach, my cousin, is near the eastern front, and he¡¯s willing to support troops on his lands in return for protection in the Empire. He is about to be overrun but he has a whole farm in the mountains with lots of ducks.¡±

    Garden looked happy about that, while Riverlands looked worried. Riverlands flicked through her script, and then frowned as she found a message waiting for her. Garden got the same sort of message on his phone that Mark had just gotten at the same time.

    Decide the fate of this encounter on the Eastern Front amongst yourselves. What you decide here will have ramifications upon the rest of the scenario.

    Mark gained a ticker that tracked his personal objectives.

    Find out Mister Garden¡¯s name. 1/1

    Find out Madame Riverlands¡¯ name. 1/1

    Find out Unnamed Woman¡¯s name. 0/1

    Mark looked to Girl #1 and tried to clear away that last completion mark, by freestyling, ¡°Pardon me, I caught their names, but not yours.¡±

    Girl #1 said something weird in that moment, simply saying, ¡°I am no one of importance.¡±

    Okay.

    Well that was not good.

    Everyone else noticed that problem too, but only with Mark pointing it out had it become a problem that they were all now looking at.

    Madame Riverlands attacked, ¡°I have not caught your name either, miss.¡±

    Mister Garden said, ¡°Pardon my companion here, she is merely shy.¡±

    Okay. Something weird was happening there, too. Mister Garden didn¡¯t name his companion?

    Mark was having fun!

    Madame Riverlands said, ¡°I cannot trust someone who is fortifying the eastern front who is unwilling to unveil the name of their companion.¡±

    Mark added his voice to Madame Riverlands, saying, ¡°I would tend to agree with Madame Riverlands on this. We are all working toward the stabilization of the eastern front, are we not?¡±

    Girl #1 muttered, ¡°Fuck. Okay. I¡¯ve been found out.¡± She rotated her phone to them, showing off an image of a mask coming off a person and revealing a goblin underneath. ¡°So I¡¯m like, some sort of impostor? I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s happening here, exactly.¡±

    Mister Gardens sighed. Showing off his phone. There were bodies, and goblins standing over them. ¡°My cousins died. She was holding them hostage. Maybe I should have just¡­¡± He frowned, his words unsaid.

    Mark smiled, though, thumbing toward another part of the room, where another person stood, talking to other people, ¡°I saw it over there at that other group. That guy was a goblin, too, and he got found out. I think we¡¯re uncovering all the goblins today. People are dying because we¡¯re uncovering them, but every goblin that succeeds plants destruction for the future, so we have to root out all the goblins no matter what¡ª well¡­ Or maybe unveil them when they can do less damage?¡±

    Mister Gardens said, ¡°That¡¯s what I was aiming toward, actually.¡±

    The goblin girl said, ¡°Sorry. For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m just supposed to act like a normal person, so I wasn¡¯t purposefully doing it. Is this the end of my role, though?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°You¡¯ll get another role after this.¡±

    Girl #1 looked at her phone again and another role was already coming on the screen.

    Mark¡¯s phone flickered, too, saying that this scenario was not complete, and to finish up the plan for supplies for the eastern front with Madame Riverlands and Mister Garden¡ª

    ¡°Oh.¡± Mark saw another twist to the scenario, actually. He held up his phone, showing them what it read. ¡°I don¡¯t have a cousin named Mister Peach. That was a ruse to allow me to unite with Riverlands and figure out what was going on here.¡±

    ¡®Madame Riverlands¡¯ confided, ¡°This is all quite heavy handed and nothing would ever work out like this in real life.¡±

    Goblin girl nodded.

    ¡®Mister Garden¡¯ said, ¡°It¡¯s a child¡¯s game of introduction; what do you expect.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m having a lot of fun. This thing is great.¡± Mark¡¯s phone flickered and new instructions came up. He glanced at them and said to the others. ¡°It was great to meet you, Riverlands, Garden, and Goblin.¡±

    The three others all said similar things, which was rather appropriate, but Mark could tell that at least Miss Goblin wanted to say something specific to Mark. She refrained.

    Instructor Wavecrash was watching.

    The various gatherings and mostly-scripted events continued for an hour, until noon, when the Clubhouse served lunch to everyone in the class. Lunch was another lesson in etiquette, but it wasn¡¯t too fancy. There were only two plates, two forks, two drinks, and a normal amount of other utensils. One of the drinks was water, the other wine.

    It was really quite good food, only marred by the fact that Mark had a whole miniature lesson on his phone, sitting in front of him and telling him how to eat (slowly and with care) and what topics to discuss with other people (more Empire of Foodstuffs plots). Mark never really knew what to say or when to say it while eating, so this was pretty¡­ well it was good food, anyway.

    After lunch came another hour with the scripted game. Wavecrash walked around the room, joining conversations at his own direction in order to correct people¡¯s postures or tones or even specific words they were using outside of the scripted events.

    It was basically how to stand (tall and forthright), how to act (deferential and calm), how to respect authority (which involved several people being named as ¡®authorities¡¯ temporarily), and how to tell authority to respect you in turn (which was a whole lot of calmness in the face of scripted anger). Mark passed with flying colors, mostly because it was stuff he already knew and all the instructions were right there on the phone. Even better than that, Mark didn¡¯t need to talk to anyone about himself, or Addashield¡¯s Dragon, or anything like that.

    Oh sure, everyone noticed who Mark was; that absolutely happened. People whispered, for sure.

    But when 2 pm rolled around and the class was over, Mark felt like he had truly accomplished something. It had been really fun to ¡®play¡¯ the scripted game.

    At the end, Wavecrash brought them all to attention, and said, ¡°The alliances forged at the party today will shore up the entire Empire of Foodstuffs. From the eastern front where the hordes are coming, to the southern lands where a dragon invades, to the house disputes in the north and center, and to the coastal lands in the west, your actions have kept the Empire together for another month. That is, of course, provided that everyone does what they said.

    ¡°Keeping one¡¯s word is, unfortunately, not something that we can train in a scripted party.

    ¡°Honor starts with words, but it lives in action, and today was all words. You all did well. I will not be vetting anyone for a club party today. Try again tomorrow. Dismissed.¡±

    Mark bowed. When he rose, he saw that he had been about the only person to bow. Almost everyone else just started walking away. The professor Wavecrash didn¡¯t seem to care, as he went back to his tablet, to tap away at it.

    ¡­ Mark got to walking out of the Clubhouse, too, he supposed.

    And quite fast!

    Nope! Let¡¯s avoid those looks and that possible conversation! Not yet.

    Why did he go fast? Why did he try to avoid friends?

    He had no freaking idea why he did that.

    Soon, Mark was holding onto the railing of the tram, watching the expensive side of the residential district vanish behind him as the tram went through more moderate neighborhoods.

    When he got back to his room in building 5, he wanted to change out of his normal clothes, put on gym stuff, and go for a run. He wanted to push himself on the wall course that ran around all of Citadel...

    But he had mostly calmed down from that intense social event, and now he wanted to be inside, doing nothing.

    And he saw his Understanding Curtain Protocol books on his desk along with his History books. Studying was quiet and nice. So that¡¯s what he did for the next 8 hours, ripping through coursework and tests and reading and essay writing.

    He did spend an hour before bed reading about Xerkona etiquette, though. Upon actually studying the discipline, Mark realized that something had been bothering him about that class ever since he went there. It wasn¡¯t called ¡®etiquette¡¯ in Xerkona culture. It was called ¡®Xerkona Honor¡¯.

    Mark smiled at that.

 048

    Mark stood under another morning sun, the angle of light coming in steep across the coliseum, the air smelling like wind and sand and faintly of exertion. It was the second day of Brawny Sparring 101, and people had mostly spread out across the sands of the arena according to wherever they had landed yesterday, at the end. Mark had fought his way up from the rank F area at the entrance of the arena, in the east, to maybe 20% of the way to the west, where the S ranks fought under the view of the instructors¡¯ skybox, in the sun. Many other people took what Mark assumed was their previous position on the field, so people were pretty spread out.

    They had had 189 people yesterday, if Mark recalled correctly, and he was pretty sure he had. Today seemed lesser, though. At a glance, there were maybe 150 people? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. The 20-ish healers were the same up there, on the stadium seating to the side of the instructor skybox.

    Instructor Badger stood up in the skybox with his tablet. He tapped it and a gong rang out across the field. People came to attention.

    Badger¡¯s voice went out across the crowd, ¡°Welcome to Brawny Sparring 101, day 2! I want all Fs to move further back toward the entrance and all Ss to move further toward this area over here. Everyone else can stay where they think they belong! You have 30 seconds to move. These people can stay where they are.¡± Badger pressed a button.

    A golden light appeared above Mark, like a pillar of light.

    He was the only F that got a pillar. There were several maybe-Ss that got pillars, though.

    ¡­ Mark remained where he was, he guessed. He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about getting singled out, but here he was, getting singled out as the only F that wasn¡¯t forced to move back to start.

    It looked like 7 Fs had to move back to start, though, while some S guy, who was only about 10 meters away from Mark and rather darned far from the S-zone, had to practically run all the way across the field, back to the instructor''s overlook.

    Badger yelled out, ¡°Your instructors today are Charms, Badger, Nifty, Medley! Say it with me!¡±

    Mark felt something on the breeze; it was a gathering of Union from the healers.

    The whole arena called out, ¡°Charms! Badger! Nifty! Medley!¡±

    The healers on the stand connected everyone in a Union for healing, and this time Mark truly felt that connection. It was like a soft billowing; an invisible cloud that was thinner than morning mist, and it rested in the wind like a filter-feeding sponge, or like one of those cleaner plants from yesterday. And then the feeling passed into the background.

    Badger spoke, ¡°If you have Union, use it to heal yourself and save our healers some effort.¡±

    Mark was going to do a lot more than that.

    He breathed in durability and breathed out weakness¡ª

    A black mist flowed away from Mark, and he was pretty sure some people nearby could smell it¡ª

    With a twisting of social anxiety at everyone near him thinking he had done something wrong, Mark somehow flicked away his miasma into the threads of Union, in his heartbeat, and tucked them away into the world. The miasma slipped away, like blood pumping into the air, to vanish elsewhere when it got too far away.

    And then the miasma broke away from those threads, to fill the air again, and Mark made another terrible stink.

    Come on, Mark. How did I do it? Let¡¯s¡­ Hmm.

    After a moment of concentration and moving his intent around, Mark did it again but this time with purpose, rapidly understanding what he was doing¡ª

    ¡°Everyone pair up and square up!¡± Badger called out, ¡°30 seconds to first spar!¡±

    Three people walked toward Mark but one of them was faster than the others; a woman with black hair, an ashen sheen to her body, and a hardness in her eyes that set her apart from most other people.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she said, very excited.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Mark replied, getting there, too.

    She squared up and Mark did, too. Her skin seemed to turn a little darker, a little more metallic. She wanted to fight, for real. Mark instantly loved it. He felt his heart thump hard as he clenched his fists and prepared¡ª

    He felt his heart pulse with Union, connecting him to the world without need for breathing. With every heartbeat he felt himself steady as resources got exchanged on a rhythm that was much faster than breathing. Much more solid, too. Every pump drew in good and expelled bad at the same time. Every thrum solidified his body with strength.

    The woman glanced at Mark¡¯s chest. ¡°That¡¯s a neat trick you got. What is it?¡±

    Mark glanced down and saw thready veins of miasma flickering out of the left side of his chest, by his heart.

    Oh?

    It was Union, threading in the air on veins, taking in ¡®good¡¯ and expelling ¡®bad¡¯. A few veins held below the skin of his arms and hands, too, and those black veins also extended a bit out of his flesh. Mark grinned at that, and then the effect multiplied as Mark understood what he was doing.

    Mark looked to the woman, and said, ¡°It¡¯s Union.¡±

    ¡°Looks like Poison Body.¡±

    Mark was kinda offended and worried at the same time. Poison Body was a dangerous skill that Mark didn¡¯t know much about, except that it should not be used in a sparring match, at the very least. It was a great monster killer, though. Being accused of that sort of honorless behavior threw Mark for a loop.

    His Union with the world broke.

    Mark began to stay, ¡°Of course it¡¯s not Pois¡ª¡±

    Badger called out, ¡°Begin!¡±

    Mark started on the back foot as the grey woman came for him, fists flying like pillars of steel. Mark tried to angle a punch away and go in for a kidney counter, but the woman was impossible to move and Mark almost lost the fight in that first exchange as she went in for an elbow to his chest.

    Mark retreated.

    The grey woman pursued, her feet crashing into the sands of the arena like metal poles, her body turning even more grey, and then silver. Ah. She had Metal Body, then. That was a rank B or C Talent; Mark wasn¡¯t sure. He was still studying that stuff in his Understanding Curtain Protocol studies. She looked pretty darned advanced with her Metal Body, though, so maybe tier 2 already? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. What was she doing in Brawny 101?

    Mark learned the futility of fighting a brawny with his fists. She punched and Mark blocked with his forearms and he heard cracks in his bone. He healed those cracked bones before he could truly feel the pain. She kicked, and Mark got thrown a few meters, so Mark rolled with it, getting back up, healing himself fast. Punches sent Mark reeling. Kicks sent him flying. Mark managed to slide away but elbows and fast turnarounds sent silver-tinged fists into the parts of him that couldn¡¯t get away fast enough.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    At least Mark was learning how to keep his Union going through the pain and the fight.

    At 5 minutes in, the now-silver woman stopped, looking almost bored as she said, ¡°Use it offensively on me. Union. Do it. I know you can.¡±

    Union dropped as Mark was thrown for yet another loop. He frowned, and then glared and he almost scoffed. ¡°What the fu¡ª No! I exploded plants the other day. What an incredibly reckless request!¡±

    The woman had looked bored, but she developed a grin at that moment. ¡°You won¡¯t explode me. I promise.¡±

    Mark scowled. ¡°No fucking way.¡±

    The woman laughed. ¡°Okay fine! Then I¡¯m gonna beat you up now. No hard feelings.¡±

    Mark felt his anger evaporate. He grinned. ¡°Give me what you got.¡±

    Mark got pummeled for the next 4 minutes and then he sat down at the end of the fight, because even though he hadn¡¯t lost, he clearly hadn¡¯t won, either. The woman sniffed, and then nodded at him.

    ¡°Good stamina. I¡¯m Isoko. Nice to meet you, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Mark,¡± Mark said, brushing over the fact that the woman already knew him and that she had probably planted herself next to him at the start of the arena in order to fight him. ¡°Good fight. Nice to meet you.¡±

    Isoko nodded and walked west to find another winner to partner with¡ª

    ¡°Losers! Partner up!¡± Instructor Badger called out.

    Mark got up and got to finding someone else.

    Soon, he squared up with another woman.

    Two fast exchanges later and Mark was standing over the woman. She had gone down like a sack of potatoes, gasping for air. And then she gasped more deeply, cleanly, and Mark heard a distinctive POP as her ribs got back into the proper configuration. Mark¡¯s stomach dropped. The healers had connected to her and fixed her up, and Mark felt ice cold as he realized he had gone too hard.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for punching that hard. I was¡­ I was thinking about the other fight.¡±

    The woman shook her head, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. This is what it means to be a frontliner. Thanks for the lesson. If you don¡¯t mind me I¡¯m going to collapse down here and close my eyes for a moment.¡±

    A ripple of hot shame traced up Mark¡¯s guts. He slowly nodded, and repeated, ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Mark won all three of his next bouts, and then he came face to face with Isoko again.

    The silver-woman smiled as she walked up to Mark, saying, ¡°I lost against a morpher, or else I would have gotten closer to the S¡¯s.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I just fought one of those. It was freaky. Informative, though. I probably should have lost that one.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°You¡¯re gonna lose this one too unless you use those freaky black lines offensively.¡±

    As Badger called out for the losers to pair up¡ª

    Mark leveled his eyes at her. ¡°That¡¯s just irresponsible, you know.¡±

    ¡°Well yeah, but it helps me work on my resistances to the other Power categories, and Natural Powers are always going to be my weak point, so I need to work on them now.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh? Ah. Well¡­¡±

    Mark considered the request.

    Isoko raised a questioning eyebrow.

    Mark said, ¡°Still not going to do it.¡±

    Isoko squared up, saying, ¡°Looks like I get to advance closer to the S¡¯s, then.¡±

    Mark squared up. ¡°Probably!¡±

    Ten minutes later Isoko walked west, toward the S¡¯s, and Mark ended up on the loser¡¯s path, toward the east.

    Mark ended up walking toward the west after his next bout, and then again after that second win. It was easier to win today, and by a lot, compared to yesterday. Mark recognized that his body was just plain tougher and stronger, which he was sure had a lot to do with his wins. He was now tier 1 in Body, which meant that he was naturally more resistant to other body powers, and stronger with his own. That was definitely a reason for his ability to win this far into the rank B¡¯s.

    But his progression with blood-Union, his staying power, is really what let him go the distance. Soon enough, most people were tired from doing so many matches, especially those with the rank D, E, and F Talents, but that same truth did not hold when it came to the higher rank Talents; the B¡¯s, A¡¯s, and especially the S¡¯s. The C¡¯s were somewhere in the middle of all that, spreading around based on their own personal martial prowess.

    Mark found himself completely outgunned by any brawny who had any real skill with their Power, or actual strength.

    The speedsters who had any level of control over their Powers were the easiest to lose to; Mark still tried, but fighting a speedster was like trying to punch the wind.

    Brawnies with 2.5x strength were pretty hard, but doable, if Mark got an opponent that didn¡¯t know how to fight. But then Mark went against his first Giant Strength guy, and he knew he was going to lose. The guy was a giant of a man, with brown skin and a bald head. Mark had to reach up to punch him in the chin with what amounted to an uppercut. It felt like punching skin-covered steel, and Mark¡¯s hand was sore afterward. The guy just stood there and took it, and then he looked down at Mark questioningly.

    Mark sat down and said, ¡°Thanks for the fight!¡±

    The guy smiled, saying, ¡°Sure thing. You¡¯re Mark Careed, yeah? You got that Union going on? Can you do healing?¡±

    Mark paused at hearing his name¡­ and the other parts. ¡°I¡¯ve not been cleared for that yet. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Ach, no big deal. Some speedster practically pulped my insides three fights ago and I¡¯m still recovering. This is the first fight I won since then.¡± The guy winced a little and then sat down on the sands, saying, ¡°Still smarts. I¡¯m Escobar, from Amazonia. Nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you¡­ and yeah. I¡¯m Mark Careed.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about your parents.¡±

    Mark felt his heart beat hard and the amount of miasma flowing out of his body increased some. The flow had been almost invisible until then, but now it was back in full swing, pulsing out there in time to his heartbeat. At least it didn¡¯t stink up the world as it flowed away, vanishing wherever these things vanished. Mark had gotten good at controlling that.

    Mark breathed in the good, and said, ¡°Thanks. It¡¯s been pretty painful.¡±

    Escobar nodded. ¡°I know¡ª¡±

    Mark was almost furious.

    ¡°¡ª because I lost my parents to monsters when I was 12, out on a beach trip.¡±

    Mark lost his fury, and wondered why he had even gotten mad in the first place.

    The guy continued, ¡°I did some stupid shit and they tried to save me but they got thrashed by a flying fish that got past the guards. All I wanted was someone to say they were sorry for my loss. I blamed myself for years. And then I learned that it wasn¡¯t my fault; we were supposed to be behind the safe lines the city had drawn, but people were just checking boxes instead of actually doing work.¡±

    Mark frowned a little, then asked, ¡°Who talks about that with someone they just met?¡±

    Escobar grinned. ¡°Someone who wanted to say something meaningful to a hero.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    Mark felt his eyes blur and the black veins in the air around him pulse a bit stronger. With a concerted effort, Mark breathed in the good, and threw his pain outside of himself. The miasmic veins in his skin that threaded into the air grew thicker for a moment. The pain retreated. Mark breathed easy.

    Mark looked to Escobar. ¡°Thanks, Escobar. I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±

    Escobar grinned softly. He nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for yours, too.¡±

    Eventually, Badger called for the next round.

    Escobar went toward the S group side of the arena, and Mark went back toward the F group area.

    Eventually, the club ended.

    ¡°And that¡¯s it for the day¡¯s sparring!¡± Badger called out, ¡°Those with a marking on them stay in the arena! Everyone else leave! See you tomorrow.¡±

    Arena lights illuminated the space above Mark¡¯s head with another golden glow. He got to stay behind.

 049

    Badger rapidly organized people according to numbers and colors illuminated in the air above everyone, with each instructor taking a color. When a person¡¯s number was up, they went forward to speak to their designated instructor.

    Surprisingly, Mark did not speak to Charms, Badger, Nifty, or Medley.

    Mark got a silver color and a 1; the only one of its kind on the field.

    He stepped up the stairs to the side of the arena, up to where the healers had sat the whole time. The healers were gone; done with their own Healing Club for the day, but their instructor remained.

    Grand Healer Badaira sat upon the arena seating, her silver cloak resting around her like a gossamer glitter. Her skin was brown and just starting to show wrinkles, but she felt vaguely old, though how old Mark could not say. Maybe 60s? Same age as Lola? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. Mark had thought that Lola had been in her 40s, but she was older than that by a decade, at least.

    Badaira said, ¡°Greetings, Mark Careed.¡±

    Mark bowed to her, as was appropriate. He rose, saying, ¡°Greetings, Grand Healer Badaira.¡±

    Badaira looked at Mark¡¯s chest, where his airy veins had retreated mostly. ¡°That is an interesting coloration and projection of Union. I would like to speak of it with you. Are you interested in joining the Healing Club?¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°I am interested in Healing Club, ma¡¯am, but I will have to decline until I¡¯m kicked all the way out of the arena. I greatly enjoy sparring. I understand that¡¯s a 2 week time frame before the F¡¯s get kicked out?¡±

    ¡°Some manage to stay for a while longer beyond that, and you might be one of them. At some point, though, the effort spent in healing and protecting the F ranks will become too great to allow them to remain on the field.¡± Grand Healer Badaira tapped the seating next to her, saying, ¡°Please sit and speak with me of your use of Union.¡±

    Mark sat down about a meter away from her and held out an arm, turning his palm up so that he showed her the blackening of his veins, under his skin. They weren¡¯t exiting his skin right now, but the veins over his chest were still threading into the air, somewhat. He said, ¡°They¡¯re not actually veins. They run alongside my veins, though. Is it my astral body? My mana veins?¡±

    Badaira gently took Mark¡¯s hand, her fingers a light touch, and flipped his palm back and forth a few times, allowing her to look at what was going on there. She let go and said, ¡°Those would be your mana veins; yes. It¡¯s a shadow system that lives in your astral body. You can let go of Union if you wish, unless you can keep it up all the time? I imagine Inquisitor Lola is training you in that direction.¡±

    Mark let go of Union and felt more relaxed.

    So the vein-like structures truly were his astral body, eh? Well that made a good amount of sense. His astral body felt a lot bigger than what it actually looked like, though. The veins near his body were tiny, but his influence felt massive, like with those threads back in the meditation room with Lola, yesterday. Were those threads like the astral control that Orissa had shown in Introduction? Where she made bubbles of light fill up the entire room? Seemed highly possible. Maybe that¡¯s exactly what it was.

    Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s kinda easy to keep it going at a low level, but it feels better to not have it ¡®on¡¯ full time.¡±

    ¡°Were you putting out that much miasma on purpose?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Er?¡± Mark looked at himself, at where the black veins no longer were. ¡°Not really? Er¡­ Uh. Is that¡­ uh. Not normal?¡±

    ¡°It indicates that you would be a good Inquisitor, or offensive Union user. Some people veer one way or the other, and you seem set more toward the offensive nature of this particular magic. Have you tried to do that yet?¡±

    Mark shook his head vehemently. ¡°No. A woman on the battlefield asked me, but I refused. I blew up some plants by accident yesterday.¡±

    Badaira smiled gently. ¡°You could probably lay down any brawny if you focused hard enough, but you won¡¯t kill them unless you focus on specific ways to hurt them. Simply giving them all of your ¡®bad¡¯ will not kill them. Simply giving anyone all of your ¡®bad¡¯ won¡¯t kill them, except in truly strange cases.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I would rather not accidentally encounter any strange cases, if I could help it. I haven¡¯t even learned how to heal anyone else yet.¡±

    ¡°An honorable line to draw, and a rather normal one.¡± Badaira asked, ¡°Have you tried healing anyone else? If not, then I would like to attempt as much with you right now.¡±

    Mark paused.

    Badaira said, ¡°You don¡¯t have to, but you are clearly capable of it. At the very least I would ask you to be here when you are pushed out of Sparring 101. Every one of the students here at the club are fulfilling healing obligations using the normal Union granted to them by Freyala, and it helps them, yes, but such training would benefit you greatly.¡±

    Mark politely said, ¡°I appreciate the offer, and I will take you up on it, but not until I am pushed out of Sparring, as you say.¡±

    Badaira nodded. ¡°This is fine. Would you like to try healing someone else now? You should get the hang of it quite readily.¡±

    Mark¡­ made a decision. ¡°Yes. I would appreciate your instruction on this.¡±

    The Grand Healer took out a little silver knife from beneath her silver cloak and pressed it into her own palm. With a quick slice, blood welled up. She turned her palm sideways and let the blood drip, as she said, ¡°I am open to you; give it a try.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t expecting this to proceed that fast, but Badaira was already wounded so Mark made a go of it¡ª

    It was the easiest thing in the world to connect to Badaira.

    His heart beat in time to her own before he could even match her breath, but then he matched her breathing and Mark began to breathe in the good and expel the bad. With his heart-Union, Mark also worked along the same ideas of ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯, and Badaira¡¯s wound rapidly closed. In five short breaths and maybe double that many beats, her hand was healed. Not even a scar remained.

    Badaira smiled. ¡°Freyala be praised; look at that. You are going to make a fantastic healer, Mark. I¡¯m glad to see the black veins are gone, too, when you¡¯re healing.¡±

    ¡ª Mark looked down at himself and sure enough, though Union was still active, the astral veins were gone¡­

    And then the stress of keeping Union active triggered Mark into falling back into expelling weakness and bringing in astral body strength to keep himself active. His black veins returned a little, though they were not nearly as prominent as before.

    Badaira told Mark, ¡°It is said that when Freyala confronted the dragon Partanatrax over Moscow she became a void-dark heart, beating with the pain that the dragon had caused the world. She gave the dragon all the evil that he had ever given this world, or Daihoon, killing the dragon in one beat of her demigod heart.¡±

    Mark felt a thrum, and he wasn¡¯t sure what it was.

    His heart? His skin? The world itself? Or perhaps the stone under his ass had merely moved in a small earthquake. Or, more likely, nothing had happened at all. And then he noticed his astral veins had briefly turned thick and pulsing.

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    ¡°Ah,¡± Mark said, as the pulsing slowed down, and then quieted down. Soon, the veins were back below his skin; invisible to most onlookers. ¡°That¡¯s good to know. That Union can kill dragons.¡±

    ¡°Not normally, but in that case? Yes.¡± Badaira said.

    Mark thought for a long moment.

    Badaira brought him back to the present, ¡°If you want to heal your sparring partners, you should do so.¡±

    Mark was glad of the change in subject, which he supposed was why she had changed the subject. ¡°Should I have healed that one guy¡­ I forget his name. The big one. You¡¯re all watching, right?¡±

    Badaira said, ¡°Escobar, and you could have, though it would have been an experimental use of power and therefore it would have been wrong to do so. But Union works very well between people. The only reason some plants explode under the touch of Union is because they are truly mindless and humans are so much different than them in a lot of ways. Tomorrow, you should offer healing to your partners after your bouts, and especially if you cave in their ribs like that one poor girl.¡±

    Mark felt a spike of shame. ¡°Ah. Yeah. I kinda... hit her too hard.¡±

    ¡°That will happen less and less when the brawnies develop a higher Power Level. When you can no longer punch one, it is time to work on other methods of fighting.¡± Badaira said, ¡°It was nice to meet you, Mark. I look forward to you joining Healing Club soon enough, and to seeing how you advance with True Union.¡±

    Mark took the dismissal, standing up and bowing, canceling Union, and saying, ¡°Thank you for the instruction, Grand Healer Badaira.¡±

    - - - -

    As Mark rode the tram to the residential district again, he felt the wind in his hair and across his body, fluttering his clothes. People spoke of this or that all around him, from grandmothers talking to grandchildren on their knees, to boyfriends whispering to girlfriends who blushed under those quiet words. The servitor standing at the wheel of the tram at the front kinda floated there, in his glass box, a facsimile of the old-timey conductors that used to drive these things. He was the same servitor that was stationed in every single tram in Citadel, which were all connected to COFR, and even Freyala, if she wished to connect to them.

    Mark was kinda connected to it all right now, too, but in a small, personal sort of way. Union was active and though he wasn¡¯t connecting to the people directly, for that would be a violation, he certainly connected to the world.

    He imagined connecting to the tram itself, which then connected to the countless other trams out there, each of them rolling along on their tracks through Citadel, carrying their own passengers to other destinations. People on those trams were on their phones, which connected them to other parts of the world, and those other parts of the world had their own movements of people.

    Mark wondered what other sorts of ¡®dances¡¯ of back and forth were out there that he could connect to, which he could be a part of, to experience, to flow within...

    Everything was sort of a dance, wasn¡¯t it.

    Mark had imagined that word for what he was doing on a whim, but yeah. That word made a lot of sense. Mark was most familiar with the dance of battle, like he had participated in back there, in the arena. He was headed to another dance right now; the dance of politics and social interaction. But a tamer version of the real dance. A primer, really.

    The real dance of politics and powers were dances that ended up with archmages ascending to true powers as High Dragons, and thousands dead in selfish selflessness.

    Mark stepped off of the tram in front of the Clubhouse, and he kinda wondered if they had actual dancing clubs here in Citadel¡ª Or maybe a class would be better. Mark had never danced at all in his life, but he certainly liked the ¡®dance¡¯ of battle. Maybe he would actually like dancing, too¡­ to like, music? Dancing to music?

    Mark snorted at that thought, and he had no idea why.

    And then he walked up the steps of the Clubhouse. He smiled at the old guy standing out front; he was the same guy as last time.

    Mark asked, ¡°Pardon me. Is the Etiquette Club meeting in Orange Hall again?¡±

    ¡°Quite right, Mister Careed.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Thank you,¡± and then he walked inside of the Clubhouse.

    Sure, he was still wearing basic browns, and people still gave him weird looks, but he didn¡¯t feel out of place this time. He made his way to Orange Hall. Soon, Mark stood to the side of the room with several other people, just minutes before class was to start. The class looked smaller today, though Mark could not be wholly sure of that, though he did notice that ¡®Mister Gardens¡¯ was missing from yesterday, along with a few other people whom Mark didn¡¯t rightly recall.

    Instructor Wavecrash stood near the door, tapping away on his tablet, until the bell struck 11:00 and class started right on time. Not early, not late, but exactly when Xerkona Honor demanded it to start; exactly when it was slated to start.

    Wavecrash walked down the center aisle of the room, saying, ¡°Welcome to day 2 of the weekly-repeating Etiquette 101. Yesterday, I told you that I have no way to instill honor among agreements, since all we are doing here is playing honor games with a program on our phones. This is a truth, and it is also something of a lie.

    ¡°Yesterday, you all enacted the defense of the Empire of Foodstuffs. Working together, your agreements would have secured the Empire for a month. But some of the people who were here yesterday have decided not to come into class today. Two people are running late, and they will rejoin us when they can, and with appropriate penalties to their starting stations today, but 5 people are simply missing and have decided to forgo class, for whatever reason.

    ¡°And so, the agreements those people worked on yesterday have fallen through.

    ¡°Most notably, Mister Gardens, who was responsible for organizing much of the eastern front, has now left the eastern front undefended. All agreements he made fell through. Monsters got in and killed five towns. 10,000 dead. A beachhead for the goblin horde has been established in that area, and now the realm is truly in danger due to goblin infections running rampant. The goblins have even turned more of you to their sides, using crafted words and heavy threats. Those of you infected with the goblin curse will either overcome it, or fall in the worst possible ways, and it is up to everyone else to suss out those people.

    ¡°Merely giving up if you are a goblin is grounds for dismissal from the class.

    ¡°In lesser ways, the dragon to the south is seeking to become the dragon in the east, and join with the goblin horde.

    ¡°Two noble houses, one in the north and one in the west, headed by two now-missing people, have fallen to infighting and assassination from other houses, leaving many supply lines in danger of full collapse.

    ¡°This is the state of affairs now visited upon the Empire of Foodstuffs this month, on this day, and it is up to you all to solve these greater issues, and with fewer people. You may begin.¡±

    So, like, the idea of failing alliances was nothing new to Mark. Nations fell based on unexpected voids of personnel and broken promises and lack of resources. Completely expected. But Mark did not expect to find that happening here, in this class that taught Xerkona culture. He was surprised. A few other people in the class were similarly surprised, but many of the people here wore unimpressed expressions. It seemed like most people expected this.

    Aside from the nature of the class, which was intriguing, Mark mostly found himself¡­ well.

    Having fun, actually.

    Over the course of the next 3 hours ¡ªwith lunch included¡ª Mark found himself talking of recruitment drives in imaginary lands with imaginary lords, resource management with imaginary warriors, and beseeching the imaginary king for aid in this and that scenario. The ¡®king¡¯ was played by the instructor who stood tall when he was acting and who crumpled a bit when he was back to being the instructor, in order to tell a person that they were not standing correctly, or that their choice of words was off and to ¡®try it like this¡¯ with examples given based on the situation.

    It was amazing.

    Mark loved it.

    Of course it was all fake (and many times Mark overheard someone saying that ¡®this situation wouldn¡¯t work out like this at all!¡¯).

    But some people were nobodies who had never been to a high-class anything in their whole lives and who had a whole lot of issues to work through, so Mark loved it, even if most of the class was actually focused on how people interacted with each other, instead of ¡®solving the problems of the Empire of Foodstuffs¡¯.

    The food was great, too.

    At the end of the class, Wavecrash told everyone, ¡°You have managed to stall the aggression of the south-now-east dragon and his army of goblins. You have eliminated the assassins hunting in the Houses of the empire. You have met the king, and each other, and the Empire of Foodstuffs will survive another month. But the empire will fall in a year. This is unsustainable. And so, each of you must find a companion to come with you to tomorrow¡¯s class. They will join the efforts, and if nothing else then they will have a good meal. I will not be handing out invitations to this week¡¯s Social Club today. You are dismissed.¡±

    Some people in the class grumbled at that, but Mark and several others bowed and then left without a word, like they were supposed to.

    For 30 minutes after the class, Mark thought that his new ¡®homework¡¯ was pretty reasonable.

    And then he realized he would need to go out and talk to people and tell them about the class and then get them on board with it¡­

    He made a decision to recruit someone at Brawny Sparring tomorrow.

 050

    Mark cracked his fist across the jaw of a woman and the woman went down, into the sands of the arena. She did not get up, but she was still breathing so it was fine.

    Mark focused inward, and on the woman, the pulse of his Union thrumming through his heartbeat, into the world, into the air, and latching on to the woman¡¯s body. A few heartbeats later his own jaw cracked as his bones suddenly set correctly, a spike of pain briefly ripping through his teeth. He spat out a tooth as he looked at the woman on the ground. The woman breathed hard, with Mark, and then she breathed easy. Her eyes opened. She blinked a few times and Mark pulled his healing back, the veins in his skin and in the air fading inward.

    The woman sat up. With her hands in the sand and a quizzical look to her face, she looked up at Mark. ¡°I lost?¡±

    ¡°I rattled your brain, I think,¡± Mark said, ¡°You almost had me there with that knife kick.¡±

    The woman sighed. ¡°Almost isn¡¯t good enough¡­¡± She looked at her arms and she touched her chest. ¡°How long was I out?¡±

    ¡°Just 10 seconds,¡± Mark said.

    This was Mark¡¯s fourth fight of the day, and he was getting a lot better at all aspects of this Union-thing; from healing others to ensuring he was protected. This win put him on track to enter the middle-field of the arena, but he was not going to win his next fight; he could already tell. Those were B¡¯s up there, and they were hitting each other hard.

    The woman Mark had just fought had some sort of ¡®knife body¡¯ going on, allowing her to cut Mark deeply with every attack, but Mark just healed the damage and blunted further damage. It was, perhaps, the only match up that Mark could hope to win against the people further up the field.

    The woman said, ¡°I¡¯m glad I asked you to go harder, then.¡± And then she simply sat there and closed her eyes to¡­ well, it looked like she was meditating.

    Mark turned his attentions to the other spars¡­

    Ah.

    He saw who his next opponent was going to be.

    Isoko, from yesterday, was just south of him. She had already finished her bout and she was looking his way. Upon meeting the silver woman¡¯s eyes, she waved a little.

    ¡­ Mark decided he was going to ask her to Etiquette Class.

    Was that a good idea?

    Maybe not.

    Did he know anything about the woman at all?

    No. But she knew about him, probably. This was true for almost everyone, though.

    Was he really doing this?

    Yes.

    Soon, Badger called out for people to end their fights and move on to the next.

    Mark walked toward Isoko and she walked his way.

    Mark instantly said, ¡°I have Etiquette Class that starts at 11 am at the Clubhouse. I need to bring someone with me today. Want to go?¡±

    Isoko nodded, then said, ¡°You will use offensive Union on me, and then I will do this trade.¡±

    Mark expected that, which is why he had spoken so quickly; he had needed to be the one on the attack, dictating the scenario, and then he could agree to the request he knew the woman was going to make. ¡°Sure¡ª¡± Sudden panic. ¡°It¡¯s not a date! ¡­ just so there is no confusion.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°There is no confusion.¡±

    They squared up.

    Mark focused his Union, black lines tracing up from his mana veins into the air, while Isoko¡¯s perpetually-grey skin shimmered all the way to platinum silver.

    Mark had experimented with what he was about to do a little bit yesterday, after talking with Lola about Badaira and her observation that Mark would be good with offensive-based Union. He had tried it with some plants after that, and he achieved a few minor effects. He certainly didn¡¯t explode any of them, which was an improvement.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat with the world and with Isoko, latching on to her. If she noticed, then she did not appear to notice.

    And then Instructor Badger yelled out ¡®Go¡¯ and Mark instantly breathed in Isoko¡¯s ¡®good¡¯, taking it into himself and depriving her of it, followed by giving her all of his own ¡®bad¡¯. She breathed in Mark¡¯s exhale, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure she noticed she was doing that; she certainly didn¡¯t flinch at the stench, so he had done that right.

    But then Isoko stepped forward and she almost fell on her face, her body not keeping up with her desired movement. Her grin turned manic as her eyes flashed full silver and her teeth gritted. She did not fall. She stood her ground, her skin turning radiant platinum under her basic brown clothes as she centered herself again.

    And then she stopped breathing and Mark felt his Union break.

    Darkness evaporated from Isoko¡¯s skin like a discarded gloom. She stood up straight and said, ¡°Good try. Need to be more subtle than that.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°I can do subtle.¡±

    Isoko advanced, full platinum and practically glowing with power.

    Mark fortified his body, his heart beating in resilience and expunging weakness into the world.

    Isoko punched, and Mark batted her fist away, connecting to her heartbeat.

    Mark took the good and gave Isoko the bad.

    Isoko¡¯s eyes fluttered as her head drooped and Mark tumbled her to the ground. She recovered enough in that tumble to roll out of it and stand up and away, but she did not break the Union. Mark had already broke the Union, having only used it when he needed to, and so that she couldn¡¯t build defenses against it. She eyed Mark, wondering what he was doing. She stopped breathing for a moment, too, trying to understand what she was seeing. She walked left.

    Mark walked right.

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    They circled.

    Mark built a Union on that circling, flowing in an unseen, unfelt flow, that only Mark could sense at all. He was ready to activate it how he needed to activate it, when he needed to activate it. His heart still beat black into the air.

    Mark asked, ¡°Just wondering, but you don¡¯t smell anything bad when I do this, do you?

    ¡°¡­ No. Why ask this?¡±

    ¡°Because it smelled like death when I didn¡¯t know how to weave it back into the world. It¡¯s a weakness of my own that I need to work on, to make it all more subtle¡ª¡±

    Mark took some of her ¡®good¡¯.

    Isoko¡¯s eyes blinked too long. She almost stumbled on a small drift of sand but she recovered. She smiled, and her silver sheen got bright again as she pushed Mark out. The Union broke. She grinned daggers at him, saying, ¡°You are rather subtle. I would like to try a trick of my own.¡±

    Mark saw himself walking in time with Isoko, matching her circling with his own circling. He waited to use that Union, if necessary.

    ¡°As long as it¡¯s not lethal, then go ahead.¡±

    Isoko nodded¡ª

    She came at him with a hand horizontal-flat and forward, like a knife, moving too fast to react. Her fingernails cut into Mark¡¯s hip, for he had not managed to get away from the blow fast enough. Blood spurted and Mark recovered, fending off slashing, knife-like hands. Defending with his forearms was a bad idea. Wounds opened up and blood flowed.

    Mark retreated and Isoko followed, their heartbeats linked but nothing was happening to Isoko; Mark was too focused on healing his own damage and fortifying his body so that Isoko couldn¡¯t hurt him as much as she was. Taking her good wasn¡¯t effective enough right now. It barely helped. Matching her breathing was a failure. Every time he did that she broke it on purpose. It was hard to fight with matching breath in the first place, because the dance of it all was so dependent on what you were doing and aiming for at any specific moment in the combat.

    But Mark matched footsteps with Isoko, and that proved to be a game changer.

    She stepped forward and he stepped back, and then he stepped one way and she followed, and then he stepped forward, feinting an attack, and she backed up when she should have advanced. It was the start of a different Union; one that allowed Mark to focus on the breathing again. Isoko turned dull, her eyes unfocusing as her hands dropped to her sides.

    Mark went to sit down on the ground but Isoko sat down first, collapsing out of her control. Mark broke the Union and stayed upright. Isoko did not stay upright. She came back to herself as she sat on her ass, and then she just kinda stayed there, wondering at the world.

    Mark had made her sit down.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a win for me.¡±

    Isoko laughed. She stood back up, saying, ¡°No. It is not.¡± She squared up again. ¡°This is good training for me. I usually shrug off everything. Mindbenders included.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t mindbending at all,¡± Mark said. ¡°It¡¯s definitely a Natural Talent; Union.¡±

    ¡°Naturals are always the weaknesses of Brawnies. It is a weakness I must work on.¡±

    And then she shot forward, brilliant platinum and eyes full of fun.

    Mark had a hard time connecting to her again, but it was not nearly as one-sided of a beat down as it had been before.

    At the called-out end of the round, Mark sat down, saying, ¡°Your win. You know where the Clubhouse is, yes? Don¡¯t be late. I¡¯ll be waiting at the tram stop by the Clubhouse at 10 minutes to 11.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°I will not be late. I have heard they have good food there.¡±

    ¡°Some of the best! And it¡¯s free.¡±

    Isoko chuckled. ¡°The best price!¡±

    Isoko walked on to her next bout against some other winner.

    Mark went to his spar with some other loser.

    He fought a morpher this time and he got his ass absolutely handed to him. The guy fought with whips of flesh and bone and punches that became pillars of bone held together by flesh and kicks that rotated like giant bones, used as clubs. Mark tried to connect to him with Union, just to see if he could use his actual, real power at all, and found nothing to connect to. He certainly didn¡¯t try to harm the guy, or heal him; that would have been a violation. Isoko had asked for it, but this guy had not.

    Mark accepted the loss when a slice across the abdomen threatened to spill his guts out onto the floor.

    It was a good fight, though.

    ¡°Good fight,¡± Mark said, as some teeth regrew for the third time that day and he held his stomach in. Within seconds the pain was gone and his flesh regrew into the correct format. His clothes were fucked up, though, and the pain of injury was never a nice thing to know, but it did pass fast. He muttered, ¡°Fuck that hurts.¡±

    The guy reassembled himself, though it took him a moment. Eventually he was a person again with bright red hair and freckles and a smile. He had a strange accent that Mark could not place. ¡°Yes! Good fight. You are tough!¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°You¡¯re tougher.¡± He asked, ¡°Do you even have lungs right now?¡±

    ¡°I do not! All internal organs are mush! I am Ulrick! Weird Body is my Skill.¡±

    ¡°All your organs are mush? ¡­ How are you alive right now?¡± Mark added, ¡°I¡¯m Mark.¡±

    ¡°I do not know! I just am. If I wasn¡¯t told not to do it, I would show you how I can cut myself in half and then survive and grow back to full! It is a funky Skill.¡± Ulrick admitted, ¡°Separating into piles makes a mess.¡±

    Mark was dumbfounded.

    Ulrick had said ¡®it leaves a mess¡¯, like that was the only thing wrong with the Talent. It was a fucked up Talent that made him look like a monster. But he obviously wasn¡¯t a monster. Mark hoped the guy didn¡¯t get mistaken out in the wild; friendly fire could be a real problem.

    Also, he was saying ¡®Skill¡¯ all capitalized-like, too. Mark wasn¡¯t sure which cultures did that, but maybe¡­ Australian? Or maybe Antarctican? Somewhere down there by the Southern Pole, at the southern entrance to Endless Daihoon. That would explain the Weird Body, too. Ulrick was practically Daihoonian if he grew up down there.

    Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s an impressive¡­ Skill? Daihoonian?¡±

    ¡°Yes! My parents from there¡­ Err. It is ¡®Talent¡¯, not ¡®Skill¡¯, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m still learn English.¡±

    ¡°I think everyone would understand the meaning anyway. I¡¯m still learning Xerkonan myself.¡±

    Ulrick¡¯s face morphed into extreme joy. It was uncanny and disturbing, and then he started speaking way too fast for Mark to keep up at all. The only words Mark caught were something about dragons and killing them and how Ulrick finally recognized Mark.

    Mark was glad for being unable to understand much of that, so when Ulrick finished Mark said, ¡°I didn''t understand most of that, but I think I got the gist of it. Uh¡­ Death to all monsters.¡±

    Ulrick grinned. ¡°Yes! Death to all monsters! It was nice to meet you, Mark! Good luck!¡±

    Instructor Badger must have called a switch, because everyone was moving around.

    Mark went further east, toward the entrance and away from the S ranks, to find another person to fight.

    He lost his next fight to another Giant Strength guy, just like Escobar from yesterday.

    Mark wondered at Grand Healer Badaira¡¯s words. It wouldn¡¯t be long till he just couldn¡¯t keep up with the brawnies. Heck! He couldn¡¯t keep up with most of them already. Ulrick would have wiped the floor with him in a real fight, and Isoka was almost there herself. Any of the Giant Strength guys were way out of Mark¡¯s ability to reach, and they¡¯d only get further beyond him soon enough.

    ¡­ Brawny wasn¡¯t his goal in life, anyway.

    It was still fun to fight, though. He could keep fighting all day, and never tire of it. This was fun.

    ¡­ Mark would stop when he couldn¡¯t actually advance in skill, or when the blows taken from an errant strike threatened to truly injure him. He could make it at least a week, though.

    His current set of clothes was done for, though. Shredded, parts missing, blood everywhere¡­ though not as much as usual.

    Some of the blood was flaking away.

    Was someone using that cleaning Union that Lola used sometimes?

    Probably.

 051

    Mark waited beside the entrance to the Clubhouse, near the tram stop. It was 10:45. Many of the people who were in Etiquette Class had already come off the tram. Mark did not expect to get to talk to them outside of the class, but now they were here.

    ¡°Greetings,¡± said a guy who Mark knew as Mister Fields. ¡°I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve met outside of the class¡¯s scenarios. I¡¯m Johnathan Fellos. This is my wife.¡±

    The girl with him said, ¡°Catherine Fellos. Nice to see you outside of class.¡±

    Mark suddenly felt incredibly inadequate, and not just because he was wearing basic browns and they were wearing good fashion. Mark had half a foot of height on both of them, too. But they were married? What were they? Still 18, right? Or what!

    Mark flubbed his words¡ª And then he tried to be personable, like in class. ¡°Married already? Makes me feel rather slow on life goals. Congratulations?¡± He rapidly added, ¡°I¡¯m Mark Careed.¡±

    Johnathan and Catherine absolutely knew who he was, but it was polite to tell them anyway. They smiled politely at that, or maybe at the remark about marriage; Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Johnathan said, ¡°It¡¯s a business venture our parents worked out long before we were born.¡±

    Catherine asked, ¡°Were you waiting for someone?¡±

    ¡°Yes! I am. The requirement to invite someone new was¡­ Well I fulfilled it, I think. They¡¯re not here yet, but they have several minutes left to show.¡±

    Johnathan said, ¡°The Empire of Foodstuffs always falls. It¡¯s a lesson to teach those who think the world is safe.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh,¡± Mark said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡± He frowned. ¡°That makes it a whole lot less fun.¡±

    ¡°There are ways to win the scenario,¡± Johnathan said, ¡°But it requires bargaining with the monsters and almost no one does that. It¡¯s just abhorrent.¡±

    Mark was scandalized. ¡°Really?! That is terrible.¡±

    Catherine said, ¡°Xerkona Culture came about as a response to dragon culture and living under the constant threat of senseless death, and attempting to thrive under that sort of thing. Even today the Settlement of Xerkona is more of a diffuse nation of city states that work under the auspices of other governments on Daihoon and Earth, rather than having their own major Empire land. So it makes sense that they engage with monsters the most out of anyone. The monsters are still people, but the problem is that we¡¯re basically food to a lot of them.¡±

    Mark knew most of that. But you weren¡¯t supposed to say that. It was abhorrent to work with monsters these days, and Xerkona was working hard to make its own Empire lands, now that they kicked out all the dragons, just like Aluatha and Okuana had done.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I could bargain with the dragon¡­¡± He asked, ¡°Could we kill it in the scenario?¡±

    Johnathan smiled a little, and so did Catherine.

    Catherine said, ¡°They¡¯re calling you the brother of Addashield¡¯s Dragon. Not to be too difficult or pointed, but perhaps you should consider learning how to bargain with such beasts, instead of considering how to kill an ascendant god.¡±

    Mark felt blank.

    And then a rage began to¡ª

    Johnathan told his wife, ¡°That¡¯s never a safe course of action.¡± He told Mark, ¡°You can kill the dragon if you get twice as many people to join the class as we started with. This is almost always an impossible task because most people who come for one day simply leave when they are told they won¡¯t get an invitation to the club without staying. The best way to get the invitation to the club is just to stick out the entire week and take the loss. Wavecrash will give out the invitations then.¡±

    Mark felt a different sort of anger come over him in the wake of Johnathan¡¯s words. Mark asked, ¡°That¡¯s what everyone does, isn¡¯t it? Just do the basic class and then they can move on to high society?¡±

    ¡°Or they just crash the party,¡± Catherine said, ¡°Or they get an invitation from the host, whoever that might be. Do you know who it is this week?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know how any of this works¡ª Op! There¡¯s my invitee.¡± Mark was polite, ¡°It was nice to meet you both. See you in class.¡±

    The Fellos¡¯ took the request for departure easily, the two of them walking into the Clubhouse with small nods and not another word.

    Isoko was wearing a nice dress as she stepped off of the tram, eyeing Mark.

    Mark was, of course, wearing basic brown.

    With one hand Isoko indicated all of him, saying, ¡°What is this basic brown!¡±

    Mark found it very easy to say, ¡°My entire life was destroyed and this is what I have.¡±

    Isoko came up short, her face turning a little red. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡­ Uh. I apologize.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Mark grinned a little, to show her things were fine, and they kinda were. There was only so much emotional stuff one could take before new emotional stuff just slipped away. ¡°Shall we attend to class?¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°I accept your offer.¡± She paused. She looked up ahead at the Fellos¡¯ who were walking arm in arm with each other. ¡°So who were they?¡±

    ¡°Catherine and Jonathon Fellos. They¡¯re married. I just found that out right now.¡±

    Isoko did a double take. ¡°At 18?¡±

    ¡°That was my first thought, too!¡± Mark smiled as he started walking, saying, ¡°But anyway! Being late is bad.¡±

    Isoko hurried to walk with him, around the fountain and up the stairs, into the Clubhouse. Along the way Mark explained some of what the class was about¡ª

    ¡°I¡¯ve read about it. It sounds fun¡ª Oh my gods look at the paintings on the ceiling.¡±

    Mark glanced upward at some truly beautiful frescoes, or whatever they were. It was the story of Freyala¡¯s rise from the person known as Emilia Turner into the Goddess of Healing and Protection that she was today. It was a story of armies vanquishing monsters and light and dark banishing dragons and healing the people.

    Isoko stared, having a moment.

    Mark smiled, and said, ¡°The ceiling in the next room has more.¡±

    They made it into class with a minute to spare, joining the 27 people who were already there. Only 17 of them looked like the originals from the previous two days, which was down a great deal. They had started off with something like 40 people, but then there were 35 on the second day, and now they were down to 17 plus 10 new people.

    Oh yeah, Mark thought. No way to keep the Empire of Foodstuffs alive through this.

    Wavecrash opened the class right on time, saying, ¡°The Empire of Foodstuffs has fallen on even harder times¡­¡±

    The rest of class proceeded just as Jonathan and Catherine said it would.

    Mark did try to break with the scenario a few times, though, and he even got a chance to speak to ¡®the king¡¯ and request something that he felt was unorthodox, but which might work.

    With squared shoulders and a strong, calm voice, Mark, as Mister Apple, said, ¡°I formally request that we abandon the eastern front and the southern lands and condense the Empire onto the coast and the north.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Wavecrash, as ¡®the king¡¯, exclaimed, ¡°Preposterous! Impossible! This is treason, and you are to be executed forthwith, Mister Apple. Indeed, I believe you might even be a goblin.¡± Wavecrash tapped on his tablet, and Mark¡¯s phone flickered, saying he was dead, his little animated head rolling across the ground. Wavecrash added, ¡°It appears he wasn¡¯t a goblin. Oh well; the realm has no room for cowards anyway.¡±

    Mark scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°What?¡±

    Wavecrash bent a little, dropping his kingly disposition, speaking as the instructor once again, ¡°An honorable idea, Mister Careed, but you came to the king directly without a plan of action or any backing among any of the other nobles, so this is the outcome of such an action. The king needed to stamp out any ideas that would cost him power, and you stuck your head up as the tallest nail on the board, so you had to be hammered flat.

    ¡°There were ways to make this play work, but you took none of them. But, if you would have taken any of those ways, such as coordinating efforts among the others, then you would have been branded a traitor and faced a similar situation. Navigating the overthrow of a government is tricky.¡± Wavecrash turned to the whole room, pausing everyone¡¯s individual conversations, saying, ¡°We will be discussing how to properly overthrow a government over lunch, and under which scenarios it is reasonable to attempt such a thing. This is a complicated topic, so be prepared for that.¡± He turned to Mark, asking, ¡°Do you have a request for your next life in the game?¡±

    ¡­ Overthrow a government?

    Uh.

    Mark tried to think of an answer to the question¡ª ¡°Yes!¡± Mark said, ¡°Cousin to the king with a line of succession to the throne that could be established upon the overthrow of the kingdom.¡±

    Wavecrash raised an eyebrow. ¡°An ambitious choice. Also not available. This is not a game of individual powers.¡± He pressed a button on his tablet. ¡°Let¡¯s see what randomizer gets you.¡±

    Mark looked at his phone and his old persona of ¡®Mister Apple¡¯ ¡ªnow a body on the ground¡ª vanished under pixelation. A new person popped up; a knight of the kingdom. ¡®Mister Sword¡¯.

    Wavecrash said, ¡°You appear to have lost the burden of speaking for small orchards and gained the burden of enacting the king¡¯s will upon the land.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that, especially when the king had just dismissed the best idea that Mark could come up with for saving the kingdom¡­ But Mark admitted he didn¡¯t know much about this stuff. Mark decided to see what happened.

    He bowed, and said, ¡°My king.¡±

    Wavecrash stood upright once again, and dismissed Mark, saying, ¡°Do as I command.¡±

    A bunch of commands appeared on Mark¡¯s phone.

    Mark got to it, and soon encountered an atmosphere in the room, and in his discussions, which was charged with energy. Far gone was the boredom of some of the noble kids, here just to get their invite to the party at the end of the week. They were interested in what was happening.

    In overthrowing the Empire of Foodstuffs.

    Mark even caught Jonathan confiding, ¡°I was not aware that was even an option, to depose the king.¡±

    Catherine added, ¡°And we¡¯re really going to talk about that¡­ subject¡­ over lunch?¡±

    Mark hoped they did.

    Soon enough, lunch rolled around, and with everyone sitting down, Wavecrash opened the discussions with, ¡°The nature of existence is often such that drastic changes must be made to the status quo if the people and society are to survive present or future hardships. Such discussions are not undertaken lightly, and usually not at all, but they do need to happen every now and then. There are rules to follow to ensure that the discussion is a necessary one, for even in the broaching of such a subject many people have lost their heads in many different lands, in both worlds. Mister Apple was the one to lose his head today, but he would not be the first at all.

    ¡°To start, there are conditions that need to be met before such a discussion can take place in an honorable manner.

    ¡°Is the nation in danger of actual collapse, from dangers either foreign or domestic? Politics and current ideologies have no place in this discussion, and if those are what drive people to break the society currently in place, then they need to be ostracized to a varying degree.

    ¡°Are people being enslaved, and would the enslavement rate rise, or fall, under the direction of the status quo? Enslavement is not an easy thing to diagnose, despite what you may think. Is debt slavery slavery? What about wage slavery? Not all slavery is the same. Perhaps, a better way to look at ¡®slavery¡¯ is ¡®Does the current status quo allow for freedom of movement and life, or is there degradation due to the status quo¡¯ and, ¡®Does the status quo demand that people become machines for those in power.¡¯

    ¡°And finally: Could the present or upcoming problems be solved with the removal of a section of people, or would that make it worse? Make no mistake. I do not mean murder.

    ¡°Often, murder makes things a lot worse, which is why Xerkona Culture puts murder of other humans ¡ªfor any reason at all¡ª at the top of the Do Nots. I am not suggesting murder at all. No. What is better to work toward is censure, or ostracization in extreme cases, and never without the consent of the people.¡±

    What followed, for the next two hours of lunch ¡ªthough people only ate food for the first hour¡ª was a complete breakdown on why, when, and how to dismantle a society that was no longer functioning, and then how to rebuild that society from the ground up.

    Class actually ended up going over time by almost 3 hours, but not a single person minded, for Instructor Wavecrash was talking about a part of Xerkona Culture that they almost never talked about; the ushering of neighboring cultures to betterment through their own presence, and how to break down non-functioning cultures and then build them back up into something better. There was a reason that the Settlement of Xerkona was all about making small settlements inside every other nation out there.

    They did not want to rule.

    They just wanted to make sure everyone else was ruling well.

    ¡°No, this idea is wrong, Mark, '''' Isoko said, on the tram ride back to the Ecclesiastical Centers. ¡°They do want to rule, but from the shadows. When the mobs come they do not come for them. That is what the Settlement of Xerkona is all about.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re doing honor enforcement,¡± Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s not the same thing as ruling from the shadows.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh.¡± Isoko looked at Mark. ¡°No. I think you misunderstood¡ª No wait. The proper way to say it¡­¡± She paused, and then began again, ¡°I wasn¡¯t making myself clear. It¡¯s fine to rule from the shadows. I was not attacking the validity of overthrowing a bad government and installing puppets. I would rather have a Xerkonan than a dragon. A thousand times over.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yeah¡­ I guess I was misunderstanding.¡± Mark paused. ¡°But the point is not to overthrow anyone at all. It¡¯s to work with what is there, and only overthrow with the will of the people behind you, and to strive to make sure that it never gets that bad in the first place.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°And if things get bad, then you must walk up to the king and tell him to his face that he needs to step down?¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°So I did things out of order and in a way that got my character killed. How was I supposed to know I needed to get all the nobles on board with my desires, first.¡±

    ¡°All the other people understood that rather implicitly,¡± Isoko said, enjoying this. ¡°But you just walked right up there and got your head chopped off.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°At least it was honorable!¡±

    ¡°Quite so!¡± Isoko said, ¡°Nations walking toward honorable deaths are always good and proper.¡±

    Mark snorted. ¡°Bah!

    Isoko smiled. ¡°Thanks for inviting me. That was fun. I will be going to tomorrow¡¯s class as well.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Good! Glad to have you¡ª Wait. You¡¯re not some super rich person too, are you?¡±

    Mark was only vaguely worried about being the poorest person in that room, but it was still a worry.

    ¡°This is my only good dress, and I am quite poor compared to everyone in that room. My grandmother got it for me specifically for events like that back there. I might need to call home and get money for a second one, though, for the Social Club. Two people complimented me on this one, but one person said it like a slap. I wasn¡¯t sure back then, but I am absolutely sure now.¡±

    Mark teased, ¡°No one has said anything to me about my basic browns except you.¡±

    ¡°I said I was sorry! Tell you what. You can have a punch. Tomorrow on the field, but only if you can get it yourself.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    Isoko instantly said, ¡°So could we organize something in the game to overthrow the king? If the AI is robust enough to handle it¡ª What was that game, anyway? I have never heard of it before.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s actually COFR overseeing the game, with like¡­ a backend subroutine, or something. They just call it the Empire of Foodstuffs and there might be some stuff online about it all, but I haven¡¯t looked it up. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s a Xerkona-specific game.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine many other nations would like people plotting to overthrow the status quo.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s such a small part of it! It¡¯s mostly about making sure that everyone has what they need, and then if they don¡¯t then you change things up until they do, while working under the systems that have already been established. It¡¯s a leadership-teaching game, more than anything else. The other two classes were nothing like that one.¡±

    Isoko hummed; a questioning sound. And then she said, ¡°Do you think the game could handle a secession of people going off to another empire, to save themselves?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that get really messy?¡± Mark started with, ¡°That¡¯s splitting the union and weakening the whole, and then there¡¯s...¡±

    They spoke for a while on the tram, mostly just the two of them, sitting to a side. Before either of them was ready for it, they reached the Ecclesiastical Centers.

    Isoko got off first, saying, ¡°That was fun! See you tomorrow in both classes.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°See you tomorrow.¡±

    Mark got off at his stop next.

    It had been a really good day.

 052

    As the sun spilled across the coliseum at a wide angle, Mark landed a good punch against Isoko. He almost broke his hand against her platinum face. She smiled. And then she trounced him in all physical ways. A punch that broke his ribs. A kick that sent him flying, breaking an arm. Mark eventually sat down and accepted the loss, and Isoko nodded, saying it was a good fight.

    ¡°You¡¯re not using your full strength anyway,¡± Isoko said, ¡°You could have pushed Union harder.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but I certainly didn¡¯t want to.¡±

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°Training is about pushing yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll probably end up at Healing Club next week,¡± Mark said, looking up to the arena seating, where the healers all chatted with each other as they healed everyone in the arena. ¡°I wonder what they talk about all the time.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I won¡¯t know for another month. Hopefully I can qualify for acolyte by then.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows raised. ¡°I never asked, but how long are you in Citadel for?¡±

    ¡°I got here two months ago. I didn¡¯t make it to the end of Sparring 101 last time. Hopefully I can make it this time and then get Chosen.¡± Isoko looked at Mark, sitting on the ground, and said, ¡°Maybe I can even get a noble-assignment through Social Club.¡±

    Mark grinned at that, saying, ¡°Good luck with that. I¡¯ll be rooting for you.¡±

    Isoko smiled. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Mark¡¯s trend of losing fights continued. After the first hour of club Mark was almost all the way back toward the entrance. At the end of hour 2, Mark was only a few fights from being in the total losers bracket, but he managed to stay out of that area. Some guys near the entrance just lost fight after fight, except when they were fighting others that had to stay near the entrance. Mark was rapidly becoming one of those guys.

    Class ended, and Mark got a marker over his head again.

    As the crowd exited, Mark went against the flow, toward the instructors.

    He was first in line to talk to Instructor Charms.

    The Giant Strength woman frowned at Mark, as she said, ¡°You need to use Union offensively against every single sparring partner. You used it against Isoko Kanno but not against anyone else. It is your main Power, and users of Union are cleared to use it on these fields, and that means offensively as well, if they can. You can do that too, so do so. Dismissed.¡±

    Mark stood up straight with surprise, and then he bowed a little, saying, ¡°Instructor!¡±

    He walked away, feeling kinda funny.

    As he walked back to his room, under the open sky, he looked at his arm as he activated Union, his heartbeat thrumming in the clear air, cycling ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯ with the world. A faint darkness held below his skin, but mostly the darkness was absent. It certainly wasn¡¯t protruding out of his skin right now.

    It wasn¡¯t until he removed his clothes to take a shower that Mark truly looked at his clothes.

    ¡°Holy crap,¡± Mark said, seeing the giant holes in his shirt and pants, and all the blood. ¡°Fuck. I¡¯m really getting beat up out there, aren¡¯t I.¡± After a moment, he told himself, ¡°Tomorrow is the last day of sparring. I can do offensive Union tomorrow and see if I can stay in the club at all.¡±

    Mark took a shower then put on new clothes. It was almost time for Etiquette Class.

    - - - -

    Instructor Wavecrash opened the class with, ¡°Your valiant efforts within the Empire of Foodstuffs have failed to manifest a solution to the problems in the Empire. Now, you must run to another nation, and hope you can keep your people together and also be welcomed in that other land when you get there. Today¡¯s class is about fitting into cultures you do not know. Half of you will be guardians of those other cultures, and you will be judging whether the other half of you get in, though you have your own problems. After lunch, which will be a collection of strange foods from Daihoon and otherwise, we will switch it up, and those who were the guardians will now become the refugees.¡±

    Ah, Mark thought. So much for plans to break away from the kingdom.

    Class was still fun, but it was sad to see the Empire fall offscreen.

    At the end of it, Instructor Wavecrash said, ¡°Humanity helps humanity; that is what we do and that is how we survive the monsters. Honor is just as important as knowing everything, or having the power to enact the changes you see as necessary. Theft is one of the worst things we can do to each other. All of these statements are true, and all of them have too many meanings for any one class to impart. The only way to learn them all is to go through life and learn, and you all have learned a lot here.

    ¡°I am ending this week¡¯s class here.

    ¡°The Empire of Foodstuffs has fallen and everyone has secured new homes, such as they were able. Class for tomorrow is canceled. I will be handing out the Social Club invitations now.¡±

    Mark was a little surprised by that, but not really. They had gone as far as they could with the scenario. Many other people in the class seemed a little excited. Some looked happy. Some looked disappointed, like Isoko. Mark was a little disappointed, too, but it was time to move on, he guessed, and he had lots of book-work classes to work through, anyway. Understanding Curtain Protocol and Two World History were big topics.

    Mark¡¯s phone flickered with a curling graphic of a scroll unfurling.

    Mark Careed, you are cordially invited to the Cybersong Residence located at 4 Cleansed Road, in Citadel Freyala, beginning at 3 pm, Saturday August 8th, 2048. Attire is semi-casual. Basic brown or acolyte white is expected for all people currently enrolled at the Ecclesiastical Centers of Freyala.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    - - - -

    On the tram ride back to the centers, Isoko said, ¡°I was hoping for another good lunch tomorrow! It has been nice playing dress up, though.¡±

    Mark smiled a little bit. Isoko was easy to be friends with. ¡°Are you going to try for a team selection thing at the party? Look for other people to party with on assignment, out in the world?¡±

    Isoko squared her shoulders. ¡°I suppose it would be a good time, yes. Will you do the same?¡±

    ¡°Not for a full team; not yet. I still got 7 months remaining here in Citadel. I¡¯ve been told I can participate in training missions, though, if I can get a team together. That¡¯s my goal in joining the Club. I¡¯m not really sure how it all works, though.¡±

    ¡°Have you signed up for the COFR training mission board yet?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Er. No? There¡¯s a board?¡±

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°Many ways to kill a kaiju. Usually people sign up together for those things. I went on two already. They¡¯re rather tame.¡±

    ¡°What did you get to do?¡± Mark asked, trying not to be too excited about it.

    Isoko smiled a little, then said, ¡°The first was around Avignon Island down south from here, not too far. It used to be a major metropolitan area in the old world, but now it¡¯s a separatist community and walled off from the surrounding ocean. They¡¯re devout Freyalans, and so Citadel helps them with patrols on the surrounding lands. The island has a bunch of tinkers so they know what is happening all around them at all times, but they don¡¯t have the materials to waste killing monsters, so we get patrols there to help out. They sell stuff the world over. It¡¯s cheaper for them to hire our Citadel than protect their own lands, or something like that.

    ¡°We fought bears.

    ¡°That¡¯s basically all we did for 3 days.

    ¡°The second time was a roam around a mountain, in the Alps. A hiking trail from the Old World that used to be really popular. We had a guide who used to be a mountain climber from the Old World, too; that was why we went out there. I got to see some nice views and kill some rock monsters. The guide was truly young and crazy, even though he had been alive for the last 100 years. He was some secret True Healer, for sure¡­¡± Isoko looked away. ¡°Or probably not-so-secret, actually. Everyone knows who the True Healers are.¡±

    Mark was enthralled.

    He wanted that.

    Roaming the land. Killing things that needed killing. Helping people that he¡¯d never meet, because he had put down a monster that could have proliferated their way, but now it wouldn¡¯t, because Mark had been there. It was a nice thought.

    Mark asked, ¡°Had you ever been outside city walls before then?¡±

    ¡°No. Never. It was quite terrifying the first night in those woods outside of Avignon. They have these things in the trees that try to catch you and bite your head off. But it was amazing. I cut them with my sword and they fell to pieces.¡± Isoko smiled¡ª ¡°Oh! We haven¡¯t sparred with weapons at all, have we?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure why sparring isn¡¯t with weapons yet, but I hope I get to use them next week¡­ if I can stay in tomorrow. I was getting thrashed out there. Thinking about dropping out next week, but Charms told me today that I need to use Union offensively against everyone, instead of just against you. Seems like cheating, though.¡±

    Isoko laughed, and it was like cute chimes, her black hair swaying in the wind. ¡°I almost faltered so many times! That trick with matching my footwork literally tripped me up!¡±

    Mark smiled. And then he put away his smile, saying, ¡°I¡¯m still not comfortable using it on people. You¡¯re not supposed to use powers on other people.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Isoko asked, ¡°How else is a brawny supposed to train if not directly against their biggest threat? A Natural against a Brawny is just whoever can line up a shot first, and except for speedsters the Natural almost always wins that race, but not always¡ª¡± She got a bright look in her eyes. ¡°Have you thought about the Villain Program? You would be good at that!¡±

    Mark blanked for a moment. Then he laughed. ¡°No fucking way!¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Isoko looked mildly offended now. ¡°My grandmother is a villain in Tokyo. It is a very good life, keeping the superheroes on their toes. You can¡¯t go sending the heroes out against all the big threats, you know. They might actually get injured.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°Okay. First off: I want to hear all about that. But also no. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m going to kill kaiju someday with a team. Not beat up people for cameras.¡±

    ¡°Of course! But you have to start somewhere, right? And all the villains are really heroes anyway when it comes to killing kaiju; everyone puts on the white when one of those shows up.¡±

    Mark frowned a little bit¡­ thinking.

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°My grandmother told me that there are two kinds of heroes; those that can wield the big swords, and those that pave the way for the guys with the big swords. I know I¡¯m going to be a normal sort of monster hunter, wielding swords twice as long as my body and using at least ten different techmaker and artificer items to supplement what I can do. Maybe I can kill some house-sized monsters, but I know my future limits. That is why I am here, to get Freyala¡¯s blessings. So I will be hunting monsters most of my life.

    ¡°But you¡¯re aiming to be a big man, with a big sword. I can¡¯t do that. And if you do that, then most of your time is going to be downtime. They¡¯re not going to want to let you risk yourself against trash.¡± Isoko waved a hand, adding, ¡°And that High Dragon has killed like¡­ all the known kaiju on Earth, hasn¡¯t he? Our next generation of heroes are going to be disastrously unprepared when kaiju start showing up again if that dragon sticks around, doing what he is doing for any length of time.¡±

    Mark hadn¡¯t thought much about Addashield¡¯s Dragon in the last week, and that had been really nice. But reality crashed upon him again¡­ And this time he held. He found it easy to think, and speak, as he said, ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m right!¡± Isoko looked out. They were coming up on her stop, soon enough. She quietly said to Mark, ¡°I don¡¯t like telling people this, but it is only fair since I know an unfair amount about you. My grandmother is Wandering Sage. She works with¡­ She¡¯s a part of Crystal Tower. The Villain Program. She¡¯s a supervillain.¡±

    The tram slowed to a stop right alongside Mark¡¯s heart.

    Crystal Tower?

    With Glorious Man and Timeweaver and the rest?

    Mark knew that they had a Villain Program over there, and he even knew what those programs usually entailed, but Isoko had that direct connection to the Crystal Tower? And a supervillain? The fu¡ª

    Ah.

    But of course.

    There wasn¡¯t a single person here in Citadel Freyala that wasn¡¯t special in some sort of way.

    Isoko looked heavily concerned as Mark thought, and as the tram slowed down for her stop. She wasn¡¯t concerned about the slow down at all, though. She was concerned about Mark.

    Mark said, ¡°Thanks for telling me¡­ I¡¯m not sure who Wandering Sage is, though. Can we talk about it tomorrow? I need to do¡­ like¡­ a lot of research into the Villain Program. We didn¡¯t have one of those in Orange City.¡±

    Isoko smiled as she stood, saying, ¡°Yes. We can go somewhere for lunch tomorrow. It¡¯s a date!¡±

    And then she skipped out of the tram¡ª

    ¡°Wait! Not a date!¡± Mark said, getting up out of his seat. He held onto a rail, hanging half out of the tram. ¡°Not a date!¡±

    Isoko was already laughing as she walked away, but she twirled once and waved, and kept walking.

    Mark eventually sat back down. A few people on the tram were looking at him, but mostly they purposefully ignored him. Mark¡¯s face felt red as he mumbled to himself, ¡°Not a date.¡±

 053

    As the sun rose across the coliseum yet again, on the fifth day of Brawny Sparring 101, Mark took a spot on the field maybe 20 meters from the entrance. It was close to the ultimate loser¡¯s side of the field. As the rest of everyone started filtering into the arena, or as they moved further in, Mark found himself the last person in the east, at the entrance.

    The ultimate loser zone had moved, thanks to people leaving.

    There was literally no one further down in the rankings than him, right now.

    Mark felt a chill at that realization¡­ and then he thought about how bad he had been getting beaten up after just 4 days of normal practice, and how most people didn¡¯t have their own source of healing, and yeah, that made sense. Mark was the only crazy F rank Body to stay in the arena. Everyone else had left. Mark didn¡¯t even see that blonde speedster guy from the first day; he had been here yesterday, but he was gone now. Cedric, the gunner with the C rank Body Talent was gone, too. He just couldn¡¯t keep up because he had no capability without weapons.

    Mark suspected that the instructors wouldn¡¯t let him use guns on the arena floor, anyway.

    Half of the entire club was gone. And not just the F¡¯s, but a lot of the E¡¯s and D¡¯s, and even a few S¡¯s¡­ Actually a lot of S¡¯s. Mark studied the other end of the field, near the instructor skybox, and noticed a few people simply missing. There had been a speedster with bright red hair; gone. She had been the fastest one there, Mark thought, though he never got a chance to actually talk to her or really even get near her. There had been a very dark black man who had also stood out to Mark; that guy was gone. Mark didn¡¯t know that guy¡¯s powers because he looked like a normal brawny, but it had been pretty much that guy and that redhead for top position on the field. They traded wins and losses back and forth most of the time¡ª

    Instructor Badger opened the club with the normal sort of gong noise, and then he said, ¡°Welcome to day 5 of Brawny Sparring 101. Some of you might be wondering where everyone is, and the answer to that is that they¡¯re gone! Moved on. All of the F ranks except for one, all the E ranks, and all the D ranks, have moved either out of the arena and into fighting class for remedial lessons, or they have chosen simply not to come back. The S and A rank side of the field has been moved off into higher danger clubs, or given a pass to forgo further training. Some of them have gone on to the special tutor program, or had other assignments crafted for their individual needs and Powers.

    ¡°Starting next week we¡¯ll be moving on to individual instruction and using weapons. I or one of the other instructors will also clear you for grappling, if you want to grapple and if you are cleared for grappling.

    ¡°Many of you are going to fail miserably once we start using weapons, and that is fine. This is a learning club, where we learn by doing, and almost everyone that stays in this club to the end will learn how to extend their Body Powers onto their weapons, learning whatever their variation is of Tactile Telekinesis; to learn how to use their weapons as extensions of their Body instead of as the flimsy metal that they are. You¡¯d also learn how to prevent your clothes from shredding due to errant blows, which I am sure many of you are learning to hate.¡±

    Mark smiled at that comment. Some people chuckled.

    Mark probably wouldn¡¯t be able to fix that problem of his own because Healthy Body wasn¡¯t much more than what it said on the tin, but maybe he could learn a minor version of Tactile Telekinesis. Maybe just ¡®tactile telekinesis¡¯, all lowercase-like. Just enough to keep his clothes intact.

    But that was for later.

    Today was a test of Union, of trying to put people onto the ground like he almost managed with Isoko. The platinum woman in question was right up ahead of Mark, in the middle of the arena, where last he left her. Maybe she¡¯d advance forward, too, now that the top dogs were in another arena.

    Badger continued, ¡°Today is going to be just like yesterday, but next week is going to be a whole lot different. Everyone pair up!¡±

    Mark eyed the people nearest to him, and they eyed him in turn, before two of those people rapidly decided they would rather fight each other instead of Mark. A third person simply turned around, looking embarrassed.

    It took a minute, but Mark found a person.

    She was a woman with Giant Strength, with big everything. She winced as she squared up against Mark, saying, ¡°I guess it¡¯s you and me, then.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll go easy on you.¡±

    The woman¡¯s attitude switched. She grinned. ¡°Thank you kindly.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart beat with darkness, black veins of ¡®bad¡¯ connecting to the ephemeral nature of the world itself, as all that was ¡®good¡¯ pulled inward.

    The woman lost her grin as she focused. Her fists came up.

    Mark¡¯s fists came up in a mirror¡ª

    Distantly, Mark heard Badger give the signal to start.

    The giant woman took one step forward, aiming to put Mark down before he had a chance to do anything about it. Mark connected to her, bringing her into his Union. All that was bad flowed into her, and Mark took all of her good.

    The woman collapsed onto the ground with a great big thump.

    Mark instantly adjusted the flow. Bad went into the world, out of both of them, and good flowed inward. A shadow left the woman¡¯s body, evaporating into the air. She groaned on the ground, mumbling out curses of invisible trucks hitting way too hard. She sat up, and blinked. She rubbed the sand off of her face.

    The woman breathed in easier and Mark helped her. She looked at him, asking, ¡°So that¡¯s what offensive Union can do, huh?¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Apparently¡­ Er. Sorry. I didn¡¯t think it would hit you that hard. You okay?¡±

    The woman grinned. ¡°You tell me, mister healer.¡±

    Mark felt embarrassed. ¡°I mean¡­ Yeah. I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re doing great now.¡±

    The woman laughed. ¡°Holy shit that was an experience. Okay. You won. I want to try again.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, sure.¡±

    The woman got up, they squared up, and Mark sent her down to a knee before he backed off and healed her to full, dispersing the shadow that had accumulated on her¡­ well, everything. She blinked out with clear eyes, and then she sat back down.

    ¡°Well okay!¡± said the woman, ¡°Looks like all those warnings my dad gave me about Naturals were right. Shiiiiet. Here I was thinking I was hot stuff.¡±

    ¡°If it makes you feel better, I could try to punch you.¡±

    The woman laughed. She stuck out her face. ¡°Give it your best shot.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t break his hand, but it was a near thing. There was a definite crack.

    The woman smiled. ¡°Usually bones just break! So you fared better than most.¡±

    Mark shook out his hand, the pain already fading as he healed the damage. ¡°I need to work on my protection magics, for sure.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Helga. Nice to meet you, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Helga.¡±

    Mark put down person after person, each giant falling, each speedster faltering. One speedster ran at Mark to punch him, but he ended up fainting and slapping into Mark instead. Mark healed him back to full afterward, just like all the rest, and he rapidly opened his eyes all the way, panicking as he stumbled away. The guy controlled his panic, though, and then stood tall.

    ¡°That¡¯s your win,¡± the speedster said, ¡°Though it honestly doesn¡¯t seem fair.¡±

    ¡°Er¡­ It hasn¡¯t been fair. No. Sorry.¡±

    Mark advanced across the field, one knock out after another. He almost met Isoko on the way toward the S rank area, but she smirked at him, and chose someone else to fight when that opportunity arose, mouthing, ¡®Talk later~ Enjoy the rise to the top~¡¯

    Soon enough Mark was standing in the S rank area, right underneath the instructors, and facing off against a woman with hair made of feathers and eyes like sapphires. She frowned at him and squared up, saying, ¡°I will not go down as easily as the others.¡±

    She went down as easily as the others.

    Mark held a hand down, saying, ¡°I¡¯m Mark. Nice to meet you.¡±

    The woman sighed, and then took Mark¡¯s hand, saying, ¡°Leona.¡±

    Mark met a few more S ranks after Leona, and then he met his first morpher of the day.

    The guy was a person of solid stone, shaped like a human. He had no heart and no breath, and Mark wasn¡¯t even sure he had normal eyes, but he saw just fine. Or at least it seemed like he did.

    Mark said, ¡°Uh. I¡¯m probably gonna just take the loss if my tricks don¡¯t work.¡±

    The man nodded, saying, ¡°You can have the first punch.¡±

    At match start, Mark tried to connect to the man in any way he could¡­ But the man just stood there, like a statue, one hand over the other over his stomach, arms loose. Legs apart. Mark¡¯s astral heart beat with darkness in time to his real heart, his breath billowed the same sort of shadows, and he felt no connection to the man at all¡­

    And then Mark expanded his scope. He looked for an opening...

    Hmm.

    Maybe¡­?

    Mark adopted the same stance as the man; hand over the other on the stomach, legs apart, level gaze¡ª

    Mark felt the groove connect, the world turning into a channel between him and the guy made of stone. The guy looked uncomfortable, but he didn¡¯t notice that he had started breathing, and then he faltered straight to the gro¡ª

    He jerked fully awake, dispersing the shadows around him, breaking the groove that Mark had pulled both of them into. The man smirked.

    Mark smirked in turn, reconnecting his Union¡ª

    The man blinked and banished his smirk, breaking the nascent Union, now that he recognized it, and then he walked toward Mark¡ª

    Mark walked toward the guy and Union¡ª

    The guy jerked away, saying, ¡°Nope!¡± He varied his steps and Mark lost track of him again, the Union falling apart. ¡°You¡¯re mirroring me! That¡¯s how you¡¯re doing it, isn¡¯t it.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°I mean¡­ That¡¯s like... the start. Yes.¡±

    The man studied Mark, and then he advanced¡ª

    The stone man leapt forward.

    Mark dodged out of the way to sit on his ass as all the sand in the nearest 4 meters swept out from under his feet and the stone man punched where Mark had been standing. Maybe Mark had meant to sit on his ass? Mark decided to just go with it, saying, ¡°Looks like your win!¡±

    The guy nodded. ¡°Tough lessons all around.¡±

    That was the end of Class, thankfully, or else Mark would have ended up with more tough lessons.

    Badger called out to everyone, ¡°Congrats on making it through the first week! These people need to stay for discussion.¡± He clicked a button and lights appeared on people across the arena. Mark got a silver light with a 1 on it. ¡°Everyone else dismissed!¡±

    Mark bowed to the instructors and then walked over to the side, up the stairs, to the healer area.

    Grand Healer Badaira stood there to the side, dismissing her own club of healers, and then she turned toward Mark. With a gentle smile, she asked, ¡°Ready to join Healing Club on Monday?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Very good then. I¡¯ll send you an information packet on the club, and you can put together what the club entails online. Most of us are out here at the normal time as Brawny Sparring. Some of us might go to the special sparring classes, the 102¡¯s and above, but most of us are here. Show up 10 minutes before Brawny Sparring for a quick lesson, and then we¡¯ll get right into it. When you¡¯re able to hold your own with healing and protecting, then you can choose to go to the specialty classes, if you desire. And that¡¯s basically it. Glad to have you, Mark. See you Monday.¡±

    Mark bowed then he rose. ¡°On Monday.¡±

 054

    Mark sat down across from Isoko at a nice restaurant in Central Citadel, saying, ¡°So I have no money. I hope you¡¯re paying.¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°I will pay. Don¡¯t be too expensive of a date.¡±

    Mark¡¯s face was red. ¡°Not a date.¡±

    The waiter asked them, ¡°Do you know what you would like to drink?¡±

    ¡°Lemonlime soda,¡± Isoko said. ¡°I¡¯d like to order the molcajete as well, for two, with extra tortillas.¡± She winked at Mark. ¡°I¡¯m buying, after all.¡±

    Mark chuckled, maybe a little nervously, and told the waiter, ¡°Lemonlime soda.¡±

    The guy left with their order¡ª

    Isoko asked, ¡°Did you research my grandmother?¡±

    That was a much more comfortable topic.

    ¡°A little bit. I did. The Wandering Sage was a supervillain air kinetic from 1995 to 2035. She only retired recently¡ª Well. 13 years ago. She still comes out to lay good weather down for kaiju fights, but other than that she is in seclusion? Ever since she did that kidnapping of some True Healer to get back 50 years of her life. Before that she was one of the usual villains doing their usual thing ¡ªwhich I still don¡¯t rightly understand¡ª of doing some sort of citywide readiness-test thing.¡±

    Isoko smiled a little. ¡°The story of the healer is a little more complicated than that, but that is the public tale. The real story is that mom got cancer and none of the healers could fix her, so grandma pulled a grandma and she jumped the line in a healer¡¯s queue and simply kidnapped the one she needed. She let him go after she got what she needed, and she got 50 more years of life, but Crystal Tower came down hard on her. Her actions were unsanctioned and Glorious Man beat her up in a¡­ semi-real fight, and forced her into retirement.

    ¡°Which brings me to the Villain Program.¡±

    Mark raised an eyebrow. Sure; let¡¯s just skip over a fight with Glorious Man. Okay.

    Mark hadn¡¯t read about that.

    Isoko continued, ¡°Normal villains do things like rob banks that are cleared to be robbed while hero teams try to stop them. It is pretty much sparring matches on real-world scales, so that teams can learn how to work together in real world scenarios. The villains participate because they¡¯re allowed to keep what they steal out of the banks¡ª the banks are always heavily secured in multiple ways beforehand, of course. Banks, museums, etcetera.

    ¡°Grandmother was a supervillain. She had a lair and heroes had to assault it and bring her to ¡®justice¡¯. Have you seen the videos? The shows still run on prime time. Even baselines can watch them.¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°No. Never saw them. I was raised¡­ I found out I was raised in a fundamentalist Curtain Protocol land like, last month.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Oh! So you probably have a bad opinion of villains, then.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably a wrong opinion, yes,¡± Mark admitted.

    Isoko laughed wonderfully. And then she said, ¡°It¡¯s basically just organized sparring. There are real injuries, but they try to keep that from happening. It¡¯s mostly knives sharpening knives so that everyone is prepared for when the real monsters come out of the ocean. You can¡¯t send your kaiju-killers out into the woods after horror stories, after all, but they still have to stay sharp. Grandma always says that untested steel breaks all the time.¡± She shrugged. ¡°And it helps to keep everyone in everyone else¡¯s business, so that society remains intact. It is not unlike that class I joined you for.¡±

    Mark suddenly realized something deeply true. His mouth fell open a little, then he said, ¡°You are a rich person! Just like all the others in that room!¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°I am not! You take that slander back right this instant.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Well¡­¡± Mark adopted some words he had used in class, saying, ¡°We can lay the veracity of that claim to the side, but I am rather sure you do know how to play this social game.¡±

    Isoko smiled. ¡°I am very bad at all of that and wanted to stay as far away from it as possible. You¡¯re halfway decent at it and you might actually need to learn how to be better at it, but I will not suffer that fate.¡±

    ¡°This is that ¡®some people are kaiju killers and some are not¡¯ thing you said yesterday,¡± Mark continued, ¡°Like, yes. I see that. But it¡¯s too simplistic, right? I¡¯d imagine that being in a city and being a¡­ I''m sure there¡¯s a name for them. One of the city heroes? Being one of those makes you develop bad habits? No one is actually trying to kill each other in those programs, after all.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. Bad habits all around. It¡¯s still the best way to multiply a person¡¯s power into being able to kill a kaiju, though. Grandmother can clear the path for Glorious Man rather easily, tossing away all of the smaller monsters and making an actual clear path for him, but Glorious Man is the one who actually swings the sword¡ª Err. ¡®Throws the punch¡¯, I suppose.¡± Isoko said, ¡°Being on a team of 4 and going into the wilderness and hunting down those house-sized threats is actually the most dangerous profession for a hero.¡±

    ¡°They just call them monster slayers over on Daihoon.¡±

    Isoko got a real excited look to her as she said, ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m going to be! You saw how resistant I was to your Union. I can do that to every effect I¡¯ve met so far, so I¡¯m going to be the center of a team. I¡¯ve already decided. I¡¯m hoping for Paladin of Freyala, and then to join the Grand Guard of Aluatha.¡±

    ¡°I just read about those. They¡¯re a guild-based agency, sort of like the Slayers, but more regimented?¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow. ¡°A Slayer, eh? You want to join those people?¡±

    The waiter arrived with the molcajete, which Mark didn¡¯t know or even really recognize. It was a big stone mortar, maybe, sizzling hot with meats, cheeses, and what looked like thin-sliced cactus on top of it. It came with a tray filled with tortillas and a side of beans and yellow rice. It smelled spicy and quite good, actually. Mark had never seen anything like it before.

    The server asked if they wanted anything else, and Isoko politely said no. Mark also said no. Isoko was already digging in as Mark put a tortilla on his plate to start.

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with the Slayers? They¡¯re a rather mercenary outfit, yes, but they¡¯re well respected over there¡­ from what I¡¯ve read, anyway. Also, is this cactus?¡±

    ¡°It is cactus! It¡¯s one of the best parts, and I have no idea what kind of cactus it is at all.¡± Isoko took the big cactus leaf off of the conglomeration of melted meats and cheeses and started cutting it up, before she handed half of it over onto Mark¡¯s plate, saying, ¡°The Slayers are better than adventurers but if you want to be allowed into any organizations then you¡­ Hmm. Actually, you could do fine anywhere you go, I think. The Slayers have organized contracts for monster kills¡­ The Slayers are rather deeply affiliated with Xerkona. Is that why you like them?¡±

    ¡°I just found out they existed three weeks ago, but there was a near-friend I had who was very enthusiastic about them, and about forgoing all demands of outside authority upon her life. She ended up signing with the Slayers and going over to Daihoon two weeks ago.¡± Mark had a bite of the cactus. It was tough. ¡°The cactus is tough?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Isoko bit through the cactus with platinum teeth. She paused. She swallowed. ¡°Is it? Maybe it is.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    Isoko said, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what was your plan before¡­ Everything?¡±

    Mark found it easy to tell her, ¡°Go to Daihoon with a friend and sign up for a settlement expansion expedition. Maybe see about making a life out there. I just didn¡¯t want to be a brawny, and so I got tangled up in¡­ a lot. Anyway! The idea was to go see the Two Worlds, kill monsters, and then maybe come home with a lot of money or maybe not. That idea changed a lot, and now I know I¡¯m going to be the center for a team¡­ theoretically, anyway.¡±

    Isoko chuckled once. ¡°Oh yes. I see why you would like the Slayers, then. They¡¯re very worldly; respected, but with few real attachments or responsibilities.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I heard, too. What are you going to do with the Grand Guard of Aluatha?¡±

    ¡°The family has cousins in Aluatha, so I was going to go there. Be a part of that. I am not suitable for a kaiju killer program at all. Not even support. I¡¯m planning on wilderness patrols with regiments of people and then running if we encounter anything that needs running from. I¡¯ll probably be a healer/support, because with Platinum Body I can ensure I survive most things, so my team can survive even more.¡±

    Mark smiled softly at that thought. ¡°Almost everyone here is planning on being a healer of some sort. I never really planned on that, but I like that idea, too.¡±

    Isoko arched an eyebrow as she said, ¡°The best form of healer is one that ensures the enemies do no damage, so yes, you will be a very good ¡®healer¡¯.¡±

    Mark felt a little embarrassed. Quietly, he admitted, ¡°It was too easy to just put people down. It doesn''t feel right. The only people that withstood it at all were those with different bodies than normal. I imagine that¡¯s a normal problem for Freyalan healing, though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a well-known problem; weird body types make it harder to use. You overcame that. It¡¯ll only get easier for you as your Power grows.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to shrug off everything, though, right?¡±

    ¡°That''s the hope! I¡¯m glad Platinum Body allows me to shrug off most things. It¡¯s scary out there. You meet one minder monster and it¡¯s all over for most people. Fortunately those are pretty rare, and almost all of them are hive-mind monsters that prevent the rise of other minder monsters in the same area.¡±

    Mark had taken quite a monster-prep class back when he was under Curtain Protocol, but he knew he didn¡¯t know much when it came to the true capabilities of monsters.

    Mark asked, ¡°75% of all common monsters are just malformations of mundane creatures and plants, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Isoko looked happy to begin, ¡°First you got the enlargements. A bigger, badder creature. That¡¯s technically a malformation, at about 35% of all monsters¡­¡±

    They spoke of monsters for a good hour as they ate Mexican food. It was a good lunch. It was good company. It was almost like hanging out with Sally again, but very different.

    Mark needed to give her a call, if he even could. Where was she? What was she doing?

    It wasn¡¯t till later, when Mark was in his room working on Two World History coursework, that he connected Isoko, who was Japanese, and the Mexican food at lunch to Aluatha which was on the other side of Mexico, on Daihoon. He wondered if Mexican was popular in Aluatha, because he was pretty sure that it wasn¡¯t that popular in Japan.

    ¡­ Or maybe Mexican food was popular in Japan? Crystal Tower was in Japan, after all, and that was Earth¡¯s center for superheroing.

    For a moment, Mark thought of being a ¡®proper superhero¡¯, of ¡®putting down villains¡¯ for a ¡®day job¡¯ and then killing kaiju every other month. It was an interesting idea.

    Mark hated the idea of using his Power negatively on other people, though. It was all sorts of wrong.

    He was glad to have ¡®sparred¡¯ with some people with the offensive version of Union, though; it had been a good learning experience. Mark was pretty sure that most of the people he fought felt the same way¡­

    So maybe there was use in the Villain Program?

    ¡­ Eh!

    Mark was still going to do the monster-killing and exploring-the-world thing. But backup plans were always good¡­

    Mark flicked through his tablet, to search Memphi, where his uncle and his uncle¡¯s husband lived, and where Mark would go in 7-ish months to reconnect with family. Did they have a Villain Program? They were a tier 4 city, after all, which was a lot more than Orange City¡¯s tier 2. Mark was pretty sure they had¡ª

    ¡°Yup,¡± Mark said, as he looked over a site dedicated to the ¡®Villains In Memphi¡¯, or VIM. ¡°They do have a Villain Program.¡±

    Mark ended up spending the rest of the night reading about the hero/villain programs all throughout the world. He had always thought of the idea of villains as completely idiotic, but, yeah, everything he read about ¡®the purpose of the Villain Program¡¯, according to various sites, was either to ¡®provide entertainment¡¯ or to ¡®sharpen young heroes against known threats¡¯ or, from the more cynical sites, to ¡®give humanity something to focus on besides the monsters¡¯ or rather ¡®to delude humanity into doing/thinking X or Y or Z¡¯.

    Mark didn¡¯t know what to make of those claims.

    He moved on.

    Wandering Sage was pretty much the same as Mark had researched last night, but it was different to look at her now, after meeting Isoko. The old woman was bombastic in her old videos of capturing heroes and ¡®ransoming¡¯ them to the city for money, but she also showed up for every kaiju battle, in the background of every wide-angle shot, there she was, clearing the sky for Glorious Man to punch off a kaiju¡¯s skull. The front-facing site for Wandering Sage, visited through Crystal Tower¡¯s page, had Wandering Sage¡¯s greatest (read: most commercially successful/popular) stories about how she threatened to freeze or heat Tokyo to unbearable temperatures unless her call-outs against various heroes (all of them rookies) were met in battle, in places of her choosing (Also here¡¯s a link to her video page with those battles).

    Crystal Tower ranked her as ¡®Supervillain ¨C Retired yet working¡¯¡ª

    Mark¡¯s breath caught as he read something he didn¡¯t expect to read.

    Mistress Storm of Orange City, who Addashield had murdered in the flyby, was trained by Wandering Sage.

    There was Mistress Storm¡¯s rookie video of her fight against the ¡®ancient crone¡¯ Wandering Sage, with her white hair flowing everywhere during the battle in the sky over Tokyo Bay. It was before Wandering Sage had kidnapped the True Healer and gotten de-aged. Wandering Sage had trained Mistress Storm.

    Mark hadn¡¯t known that.

    Somehow, Mark found himself watching a video of Wandering Sage giving a eulogy for Mistress Storm. Wandering Sage was dressed in mourning blacks, a veil over her young-looking face, as she spoke in front of big pictures of Mistress Storm. She spoke of her former student saving the world every other month with her husband, Red Thunder, of how they did their famous flybys, and how they would both be missed.

    Wind whipped across two blanket-covered statues behind Wandering Sage.

    White stone statues of Red Thunder and Mistress Storm stood revealed, under the light of day.

    Wandering Sage spoke clearly and without any anger at all, as she said, ¡°These statues will go into the Hall of Heroes, to stand with the rest of the heroes of this world who have lost their lives in the course of duty to us all. The statues were made with loving care by Glorious Man himself. Addashield¡¯s Dragon Son has donated a thousand kilos of adamantium to Crystal Tower in recompense for his father¡¯s sins against humanity, for his father¡¯s murder of Mistress Sto¡ª¡±

    She cut herself off.

    She ended her speech there.

    The video ended.

    Mark had some emotions he didn¡¯t know what to do with, so he buried those emotions and went on to other research.

    He gained some topics for tomorrow¡¯s Social Club party.

    The Hero/Villain Program. Asking if the big-power/small-power split between kaiju killers and normal monster hunters was real, and to what degree. Team Building and Power balancing within a team. And finding a potential team to go on a training exercise run somewhere out in the real world¡ª

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, ¡°And I need to go get my Power Level numbers checked¡­ I¡¯ll do that tomorrow, before the Social Club¡­¡± He shuddered, shivering a little, as he thought about actually going to Social Club. Mark got out of his chair and shook himself a little. ¡°It¡¯s just nerves. Nothing but nerves¡ª¡±

    He would face bigger things, in time, than a party full of nobles and otherwise.

    Dragons, kaiju, and real problems.

    In all likelihood, the worst thing that could come of tomorrow would be a bit of embarrassment. The best thing would be finding some people to go on a training mission with, or finding out about the world and what was happening among the upper echelons of society.

    Addashield¡¯s Dragon ¡®Son¡¯ was still making waves out there, trying to become an accepted member of humanity.

    Mark still didn¡¯t know what to make of that.

 055

    Body, Healthy Body: 016

    Shaper, Adamantium: 014

    Mind: 13

    Natural, Union: 022

    Soul: 13

    Arch: 10

    Mark didn¡¯t know what to make of these vastly inflated numbers as he read the words in the air, as he stood in the little scanning closet of Healing Hall.

    It was an unbelievable spread. He was tier 2 in Union, and tier 1 in everything else. That just didn¡¯t happen¡­ But apparently it did. This is what a tri-Talent looked like, didn¡¯t it. He was lagging on his Adamantiumkinesis, but it was there, in the background.

    Growing.

    Mark felt it a little bit sometimes when he stressed Union, or when he felt Healthy Body activate more than usual. It was like a sideways tug, inside of his bones. Like a feather¡¯s touch of sand, rolling inside of his limbs. There was a big particle in the left side of his pelvis and in his right femur at this very moment, but ¡®big¡¯ was relative. Each one was more like two grains of sand that he actually recognized as there, as opposed to the shadow feelings he got elsewhere. Mark still couldn¡¯t actually ¡®grab¡¯ either of those fragments, or the shadows gathering elsewhere in his bones. They were slippery, and it wasn¡¯t like ¡®grabbing onto¡¯ anything, anyway. It was like trying to lift a finger that was tied down; there was only so much strength to his ¡®finger¡¯.

    Sometimes he felt those grains of sand in his ribs, or his spine, which Mark didn¡¯t understand at all. How could the grains move from his chest to his pelvis? The bones weren¡¯t connected at all; not directly.

    Eh!

    Mark was tier 2 now, which was weird.

    Eh!

    He waved away the scan floating in the air and stepped out into the halls of the education center of Citadel. With a tug at his basic brown clothes and a squaring of his shoulders, Mark breathed deep and made his way out of Healing Hall, passing some weekend-learners with heavy anatomy books in their arms.

    ¡­ That¡¯s right. Mark needed to learn anatomy now, too. Even just the basics would improve both the speed of his healing and the depth of his ability to injure¡­ Hmm. Maybe leave that for some other year, actually.

    Soon, Mark was on the tram, and headed north. It was 2:35 PM and the Social Club was going to meet at the Cybersong Manor at 3 PM.

    It was going to be a lot different from Etiquette Class.

    - - - -

    Mark hopped off of the tram in a very fancy neighborhood. He was the only one who got off at this stop, which did not bode well. He kinda expected to see some of his classmates on the tram, but nope! He was alone. The road was lined with massive oak trees that grew tall and shadowed the land. Wrought iron fences hinted at large gardens and grassy lawns and bigger trees. Mansions full of people lurked in those woods.

    Mark started walking.

    He arrived at the entrance to Cybersong Manor at 2:57; just 3 minutes prior to start.

    It was a super-rich person¡¯s house, with a driveway that wound around a fountain and parking for ten hovercars and three or four stories of house, with balconies everywhere. The house was pure white stone with blue accents, and the land surrounding it was old forest chic.

    There was a butler at the front. He was an older man who stood behind a small counter that was not a gatehouse, but it was in the right sort of place to act as a gatehouse.

    ¡°Good afternoon, sir. May I see your invitation, please.¡±

    Mark took out his phone and brought up the invitation. It still shimmered like an unfurled scroll.

    The butler nodded. ¡°You¡¯re our last expected young guest today, so I can walk with you into the house.¡±

    Mark almost panicked. ¡°I¡¯m right on time, though?¡±

    ¡°Quite right.¡± The butler started walking and Mark walked with him. ¡°For most everyone, the party starts at 11 am, with lunch and food. For the new students you arrive sometime before the appointed hour. Most of your fellow classmates were on the previous tram or the one before that.¡± He waved a hand in the air.

    The gate to the property slid shut, near silently.

    Mark turned back toward the front¡ª

    And the butler began walking up the grand stairs of the house, saying, ¡°The party takes place on the first floor. There is a pool and game rooms for your pleasure. Food is in the back, by the pool. Guests might yet arrive by air or by car.¡± The man entered the large open doors of the house, and Mark followed.

    The foyer was grand, with a massive central staircase that curled up to the second and third floors. The floor was marble with off-white striations and the walls were white with grey accents. Color was everywhere, in paintings and carpets and in the warm light of a golden chandelier dripping from the ceiling, crystals shimmering golden hues into the entrance.

    Archways to the sides and front showed the ways to rooms with people in them, gently talking to each other or even playing games on a television over there. Most everyone looked older than acolyte age; only half of the people in those rooms were acolytes, denoted by their white clothes or their basic browns. The rest wore expensive or expensive-casual clothes and one person over there was wearing a swimsuit¡ª

    Oh.

    That was Wandering Sage, standing with Isoko and someone else that Mark didn¡¯t know¡ª

    The butler handed Mark a nametag; it was the last one on the nearby table. He left Mark to affix it to his own clothes, as he opened up a small fridge nearby and took out a cooled wine glass of some sort of pink wine. Mark rapidly clipped the tag to his chest and then took the offered wine glass, saying a small thank you.

    The butler nodded professionally. ¡°Be at ease, and enjoy the party. If you have any requests for people to talk to first, I can direct you this way or that.¡±

    Mark made an easy choice, ¡°Team building for training expeditions into¡­ wherever they send people. I don¡¯t really care where. I want to do one of those training missions, though.¡±

    The butler gestured toward the room with Wandering Sage and Isoko, saying, ¡°I believe some people already have designs on forming such a group with you. Merely enter that room and they will likely come your way.¡±

    Mark squared his shoulders, stood straight, and said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The butler did a confirmation bow and Mark sipped his wine as he walked toward whatever was going to happen next.

    With an easy pace, Mark walked into the side room. At least 40 people were there. Most of them had little dishes with food. The food came from fancy trays that stood to the side. It was a bunch of things from ribs to sushi to chicken skewers with what looked like peanut sauce and desserts of all kinds. Mark was suddenly hungry, but he wanted to see Isoko first, and her grandmother, the ¡®supervillain¡¯ Wandering Sage.

    They looked almost identical, except for their hair. Wandering Sage had gotten de-aged due to kidnapping that True Healer a while ago, but Wandering Sage ¡ªArei Kanno, age 78¡ª had kept her white hair. Isoko had pure black hair. Mark had no idea about the woman who was with them. She wore a bright green dress, and her long, brown hair was in a braid almost down to her butt.

    The three of them noticed Mark walking their way and they opened up their little group, with the woman in the green dress smiling softly and warmly the most, but the other two were similarly inviting. Mark was the tallest of them, which was still a new experience for him; he had been 5¡¯7¡± but then the Color Drop treatment had bounced him all the way up to 6¡¯3¡±.

    Isoko interrupted whatever conversation they had been having by saying, ¡°Hello, Mark! I was hoping I would catch you if I stood here. Mark Careed. This is my grandmother, Arei Kanno, also known as Wandering Sage.¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Mark bowed from his chest, not his waist, and not too deeply. ¡°Hello, Missus Kanno.¡±

    Arei smiled a little as she bowed just her head. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about you, Mark. Nice to finally meet you.¡±

    Isoko gestured to the green-dressed woman, saying, ¡°And this is the mistress of the house, Sophia Cybersong, also known as Circuitbender.¡±

    Mark bowed deeper than he did for Arei, getting some waist-bending in, saying, ¡°Hello, Missus Cybersong.¡±

    Sophia smiled a little, and did not bow at all, which was normal for the master (or mistress, in this case) of the local domain. She said, ¡°I¡¯ve heard about you as well. Specifically, I¡¯ve heard that you¡¯re looking to go on a training mission. I have a son your age who is thoroughly grounded for going off on a training mission on his own, but who needs to be out and about like all young people. Would you be interested in going out on a mission with him?¡±

    Mark found it easy enough to say, ¡°Yes. I¡¯m interested in that. I need to get direct clearing from my observers to leave Citadel but they all gave me a tentative ¡®yes¡¯, as long as I can get a decent enough team¡ª¡±

    Mark had a moment as he realized he was being too trustworthy, and that he had walked in here with goals and now his goals were being filled.

    Just like with Addashield.

    ¡­ But this was a training mission, of some sort, whatever that might be, happening in weeks or months, and not right now. So that made this okay? Was this a genuine offer? Or some play at something? Thinking of Addashield reminded Mark that, for all his faults (and there were many!) he did have good advice about not being used by people. ¡®Don¡¯t take offers or sign papers for anything more than a week¡¯s length of commitment after your Tutorial, though Freyala¡¯s church was okay¡¯, or something like that.

    All of the Churches were fine, except for Thrashtalon¡¯s, of course.

    Mark wasn¡¯t so sure about this sudden offer to go on a mission with Sophia¡¯s son, though.

    Mark blinked a few times as he came back to the moment, and then said, ¡°Uh. Apologies.¡± Mark picked out something wrong with the scenario, and said, ¡°Your son is reckless enough to go on a training mission on his own?¡±

    Sophia smirked. ¡°Normally it wouldn¡¯t have been dangerous at all, but he ran afoul of some unexpected mimic spiders. He was lucky he was prepared. My son is reckless, but he¡¯s also prepared for every eventuality, just like he was prepared for that one. His name is Eliot and his Power is Man-made Manipulation. It¡¯s an Arch Power, so it would fit in well with your own triplicate nature.¡±

    Ah. So this was a real offer. And a big one. Okay.

    Arch Powers were the rarest of them all, for they were the meeting of soul and physicality upon the world; the power to manipulate broad categories of things, like ¡®Reality¡¯, ¡®Time¡¯, ¡®The Veil Between Worlds¡¯, and ¡®Man-made¡¯. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how, exactly, ¡®Man-made Manipulation¡¯ was different from Kinetics or Natural Powers, but today was a good time to find out.

    Mark bowed a little, saying, ¡°I¡¯d love to meet him and to learn more about Man-made Manipulation.¡±

    So that was probably ill-said; could have been worded better, more pleasant, less stilted. But it was what it was, and it was enough.

    Sophia nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure he seeks you out sometime this afternoon. He¡¯s shorter than you, and wiry. It was nice meeting you, Mark.¡± She smiled as she told Arei, ¡°It was good to see you as well. Good luck with your league. If you need help let me know.¡±

    Arei said, ¡°I¡¯ll take that offer and send you some information later, Sophia.¡±

    Sophia departed, and then Mark was left with Wandering Sage and her granddaughter.

    Arei looked up at Mark, asking, ¡°Have you ever considered the Villain Program?¡±

    Mark was semi-prepared for this conversation. He said, ¡°I only realized the VP was a way to train future heroes for combat in a safe environment three days ago. Prior to that, I had always thought the whole idea itself crazy; pardon my candor. The idea of using one¡¯s powers against another human is¡­ Well¡­ Abhorrent.¡±

    Isoko got a solid look to her face, as though she could not believe Mark had just said that. She wanted to disappear, Mark was sure.

    Arei¡¯s eyes widened as she grinned a little. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard that one in a while. Usually people sugarcoat these condemnations.¡±

    Mark was almost about to sugarcoat his words¡ª

    ¡°I completely agree, of course,¡± Arei said, ¡°That¡¯s why a proper Villain Program only accepts those with high standards of excellence. You wouldn¡¯t even need to do it as a full-time job, but rather get paid by the state to whip some little shits into shape when they start to think they¡¯re above the law, and it¡¯s not like kaiju come around regularly. The larger fact is that most of humanity isn¡¯t as good as you want it to be. Not even on Daihoon.¡± As though she was distilling the wisdom of the ages into as small of a phrase as possible, Wandering Sage said, ¡°Most people are good. Some are bad. Villains are needed to sharpen all of us so we¡¯re not caught unawares when the real threats loom, both without and especially within.¡±

    Mark felt as though he stood upon a crossroads.

    Mark asked, ¡°I saw your eulogy for Mistress Storm, and then at the end when you spoke of Addashield¡¯s Dragon donating a thousand kilos of adamantium to Crystal Tower as recompense for his ¡®father¡¯s¡¯ sins. What is going on with that whole situation?¡±

    Wandering Sage breathed in, staring at Mark. The room felt cold. For a moment, it was just the two of them.

    Wandering Sage said, ¡°The dragon is not his father. That¡¯s what everyone tells me. And yet I cannot help but hate him anyway. I had to be convinced for three days to add that part to the speech, and I almost didn¡¯t do it in the end. But in the end I did it anyway, because only a fool antagonizes dragons and expects to avoid retaliation. Are you a fool?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Mark said. ¡°Undoubtedly, really. I still can¡¯t fu¡ª I can¡¯t believe what happened. I expected Addashield to come back to humanity and his Old Contract, or something to that effect. I thought the adults had it all figured out, and I was just doing my duty. I did not expect him to avoid everything by dying and leaving behind himself but a little bit changed. Is the dragon actually, fully Addashield, but with a different perspective? Or is the dragon truly a different person?¡±

    Someone else stepped into the conversation.

    Serge Garin; the son of the Holy Mother, High Priestess of Freyala, Julia Garin.

    Serge Garin, AKA Justicar. One of the top heroes in the entire world.

    He was wearing a flower shirt and salmon-colored shorts with flipflops. Beachwear, probably for the pool outside, in the back of the mansion. His face was bearded and stern, as he said, ¡°He¡¯s not the same as Addashield, but he is. And he¡¯s a dragon. His perspective on humanity is beneficial at the moment, but it will change eventually. He¡¯s the size of a building. He¡¯s pretending to be Addashield, but it¡¯s impossible for him to remain as Addashield for the rest of his effectively-immortal life.¡±

    Another person was there; Instructor Wavecrash, of the Etiquette Class.

    Wavecrash said, ¡°He¡¯s not Addashield.¡±

    He was wearing semi-formal clothes, and his presence temporarily grounded Mark; he was a person Mark knew and had talked to a lot over the last week.

    But then Wandering Sage and Justicar bowed toward Wavecrash, and ruined Mark¡¯s expectations of who Wavecrash was.

    Wandering Sage and Justicar both softly said, ¡°Ambassador.¡±

    Oh.

    Ambassador. To what? The Settlement of Xerkona, probably.

    That was a Big Deal.

    Isoko rapidly followed her grandmother and bowed, saying, ¡°Ambassador.¡±

    Mark found it impossible to follow in that politeness, though.

    Wavecrash noticed. He said to Mark, ¡°He¡¯s not Addashield. Categorically, he is not the Archmage whom we all respected, even if our ideas of him were purposefully misled to hide his true nature. All of us have been hurt by Addashield and saved by Addashield, and so, all consideration for what Addashield has done to us must be discarded.¡±

    Mark snapped, ¡°So the dragon completely avoids all responsibility?!¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Wavecrash easily said. ¡°Because the dragon isn¡¯t the human or the demon. He is a new, powerful entity, and no matter our personal feelings we cannot allow them to come into conflict with humanity¡¯s best interests.¡±

    Mark frowned. He wanted to rage. He did not rage. ¡°This idea that dragons aren¡¯t their creators¡ª It¡¯s not just a convenient excuse that¡¯s paraded around to avoid a fight?¡±

    Wavecrash said, ¡°It is many things, that is one of the truths of it all. The convenience of this truth is but one of the ways we lead ourselves toward the light to better the outcomes for all of humanity. In other, more realistic ways: Consider the nation that has been overtaken by dissidents.¡±

    ¡­ What?

    A topic change or something?

    Mark was lost for a hot moment, and then he caught up to the analogy. He frowned, completing the idea that had been exposed to him in class this week. ¡°A nation of complicated societies is overtaken by new people, by dissidents risen from that nation. They are not the previous rulers. They want life to go on more or less how it was, but with them in charge. They can only do so if everyone else recognizes them as the same nation, but changed. How do they do that? By paying off debts.

    ¡°And so, the dissidents pay the debts of the previous nation, to establish themselves as a rightful heir to the power they captured. And so, we must treat them as a maybe-ally, lest they fall back to infighting and harm everyone else in their wars.¡± Mark finished with, ¡°But they¡¯re not the same people at all.¡±

    ¡°Quite right,¡± Wavecrash said. ¡°But there is another, simpler way for us to think, when it comes to Addashield¡¯s Dragon. This stance is particularly poignant for you, Mark. I will lay it out for you, and for everyone else here.¡± Wavecrash looked at Mark. ¡°Don¡¯t antagonize your brother while your brother is still young and deciding who he is.¡±

    Ringing.

    There was a ringing in Mark¡¯s ears.

    Mark was still.

    A moment passed. Maybe two.

    A sting in his hand brought him back to himself. He looked down at his hand, where shards of glass had cut his skin and wine stung those cuts. Black veins leaked out of his skin. He hadn¡¯t noticed that he had broken his glass, or that all his drink was on the ground. With a quick idea of healing, Mark sealed up his wounds and then he turned off Union as much as he could.

    He walked away, black veins still showing under his skin.

    He did not leave the party, though. That would have been beyond acceptable behavior.

    Or at least that¡¯s what his training for the last week had told him.

 056

    Mark found himself at the bar taking a shot of whiskey.

    He moved on.

    He walked over to the pool area where a bunch of kids were running around under the sun, screaming and playing and diving and swimming, while the adults stood around watching the kids and talking with each other. Someone was grilling burgers on a large grill that was actually a whole mini-kitchen, built into some brickwork a little bit away from the pool, on a stone circle surrounded by grass and dads all talking to each other about the right way to cook meat. They were probably talking politics, too.

    Mark heard ¡®Addashield¡¯s Dragon¡¯ every now and then as he walked over to get another beer from the open bar by the pool. He got a big burger from some big guy who was grilling them up.

    He walked¡­ somewhere.

    Isoko found Mark under a tree, looking at the gardens. ¡°Hey there.¡± She sat down on the ground with him. ¡°So the Villain Program is a no-go, huh?¡±

    Mark huffed a laugh. ¡°This whole thing has been a rather eye-opening experience.¡± And then Mark was simply silent, and so was Isoko. The sounds of kids splashing and yelling and playing filled the air. Someone had some music playing in the house somewhere, and song flowed out into the yard as the trees tousled in the breeze. Mark said, ¡°Intellectually, I knew that people did dishonorable things to promote the general welfare of all of humanity, but¡­ is it really dishonorable to ignore a problem that is beneficial in the short term in favor of promoting the general welfare? I don¡¯t know. All I really know is that I¡¯m not cut out for politics and all this maneuvering.¡± He looked at Isoko. ¡°Unless I¡¯m mistaken, the Villain Program is all about politics.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°People don¡¯t usually fight each other or monsters with any sort of brains to them. It¡¯s the same for heroes. It¡¯s not widely publicized, but the ones who actually kill dragons are those who have a lot of experience fighting people. Inquisitors, Mark. In all of Daihoon that¡¯s who kills dragons; the same people who kill murderers and Fallen and demon-touched. Not the people who kill kaiju; they¡¯re different spheres that overlap, but they are not the same. You want experience fighting people and killing the true monsters, then you become a villain and you get heroes aiming at you every week to be put down, or else you get put down yourself and you suffer, like, a week in a comfy ¡®jail cell¡¯ that¡¯s¡­ Well that¡¯s a whole thing. And yeah, there are cameras and shit like that, but you get the experience to fight anyone and everyone.

    ¡°Grandma has killed four dragons in her lifetime.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart skipped a beat at the thought of dragon killing¡­ And then he looked at Isoko. ¡°Why are you pushing for this?¡±

    ¡°Because I can¡¯t do shit against the big threats in the world, Mark,¡± Isoko said, her voice containing depths of rage that she kept as hidden as she could. After a moment to compose herself, she continued, ¡°That¡¯s my burden to carry from now until forever. You will be able to do what I cannot. That split that I talked about, between kaiju-capable warriors and otherwise? You don¡¯t know the true depths of that split because you were raised fundamentalist. You didn¡¯t know the true nature of the world until recently, but that gap is there, and it is the largest gap in the world. It¡¯s a gap that Daihoon dealt with by making Contracts with demons, to make archmages and maybe even dragons that would help humanity. They succeeded enough that they didn¡¯t die, and that is about all that can be said about that history. The Two Worlds are doing better than that these days. A lot better. We get by with coordination and City AIs and vast resources that Daihoon never had. Our heroes can kill kaiju without demons or dragon help, if they¡¯re suited for it, if they¡¯re lucky, and if they have access to those vast resources¡­

    ¡°But there¡¯s another gap.

    ¡°The gap between a dragon-killer and a kaiju killer. It¡¯s much smaller than the gap between monster killer and kaiju killer, but there¡¯s still a gap. It¡¯s an airy sort of gap, too, because it allows some people to cross it, like grandma, because fighting a dragon is a lot different than fighting a kaiju. It requires true talent and a lot of expertise.¡±

    After a moment of silence, Mark looked at Isoko, and said, ¡°You¡¯ve been dealing with that rage for a long time, haven¡¯t you.¡±

    Maybe she thought she could bridge the gap to killing dragons, but from her tone, that was a special path that was forever denied to her, but people like Wandering Sage could cross it.

    Isoko sighed, chuckled in a small, unknowable sort of way, and then said, ¡°Yes. In case you couldn¡¯t connect some dots, grandma is a Sky Shaper. Mom is a Wind Shaper and Dad is a Mist Shaper. I ended up with Platinum Body; completely unsuitable for everything that the family focuses on, and unable to rise high. Brawny was a 4% chance on my False Tutorial. Easy enough odds to roll. I ended up losing that roll.¡±

    Mark felt a kinship in that moment. ¡°¡­ I had a 96% standard brawny roll, so I had to do something drastic. I think I ended up losing that roll in a lot of ways, too.¡±

    Isoko huffed a small laugh. ¡°Yeah. You did. I¡¯m gonna be a monster killer. You need to rise higher than anyone in order to survive the real world.¡± She eyed him. ¡°That¡¯s another reason for joining the Villain Program.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Grandma is pretty sure that if you try to become some great hero, like you want, then your ¡®brother¡¯ is going to be pissed if you get any sort of spotlight at all. Dragons are very vain, Mark. If you turn hero and talk of killing him, or anything like that, then he¡¯ll get mad. If you turn villain and talk of killing him, then he¡¯ll say ¡®yup, that guy is a villain! Look at me! I¡¯m a hero!¡¯ and he¡¯ll turn ¡®hero¡¯.¡±

    Mark had no idea what to do with that information.

    Mark said, ¡°I have no idea what to do with that information.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t either, if I were in your shoes.¡±

    Mark looked away.

    After a moment, he said, ¡°I don¡¯t much like the politics of governing a world, and would like to not be a part of all of that. The truths here are all murky, at best. I much prefer the idea of killing monsters because they need killing, saving people because they need saving, and leaving all concerns for dragons calling me ¡®brother¡¯ to the side.¡±

    After another moment, Isoko asked, ¡°Does it bother you, for him to call you brother?¡±

    ¡°Yes... and no. I haven¡¯t interacted with him at all. If he is Addashield in disguise then yes, I would be furious beyond measure. But¡­ They had dragon rulers in Daihoon for the last 5,000 years, didn¡¯t they? Ever since the Veil solidified in that ancient time and split our worlds firmly in two, they were walking a path of dragons as rulers, as powers. Better than demons? Who knows. I certainly don¡¯t know anything at all. I do know I¡¯m an only child who never really thought about having a brother at all¡­ So I don¡¯t know what to do with him as a¡­ brother.¡± Mark asked, ¡°Is your grandmother¡¯s theory of him turning evil if I turn ¡®hero¡¯ a real concern?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Yes, to her. To others as well.¡±

    ¡°Then I probably need to run away and not allow myself to affect whatever he does for a long while.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°Running away is a good sideways solution.¡±

    Mark suddenly asked, ¡°Why has he not chosen a name yet? I don¡¯t get that. Of all the things I hear, I don¡¯t understand that the most.¡±

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She nodded at his empty beer bottle. ¡°Want another beer?¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Yes! And everything else, too¡­ and thank you. For coming out here.¡±

    Isoko smirked, saying, ¡°You should know that I was sent by my grandmother just as much as I came myself.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°What was the split? 60/40?¡±

    ¡°Oh I was 100% already headed your way, for sure. My reasonings for wanting to help you were just updated when grandma took me aside, and I think her reasonings worked better for you than my own. You¡¯re a good person, Mark, and you have no idea how rare that is.¡±

    Mark stood up, saying, ¡°Bah! People are basically good!¡±

    Isoko stood up, too. ¡°When they¡¯re not tested they can afford to be good, so they''re are good. That¡¯s not the same thing as actually being good.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Maybe, yeah. But how often does that happen? Not often, I bet.¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Isoko snorted a laugh, just once. ¡°You and I have led very different lives.¡±

    ¡°Everyone does, right?¡± Mark walked back to the party with Isoko, asking, ¡°So what were your reasonings for coming over here?¡±

    ¡°I like you and think you¡¯re cute and I want to fuck around with you, but I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re not interested.¡±

    Mark felt his face heat up. ¡°Err¡­ Yeah. Not interested. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Boys, then?¡±

    ¡°Not that either. No one, actually. At all.¡±

    ¡°Oh! ¡­ Well. That¡¯s cool. So sushi? I want some of that and I think they just set out a new spread.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had good sushi! I would like to try it, though.¡±

    Isoko smiled. ¡°So you¡¯ve had bad sushi?¡±

    ¡°Mom and Dad and I would go out¡­¡± Pause. He continued, ¡°¡ªto this place in Orange City sometimes because Dad loved it, but I tried every kind of sushi they had and I never saw the appeal. I hope that high-class sushi can change my mind.¡±

    It hurt to talk about Mom and Dad, but it also felt good to talk about them.

    Mark felt a lot of ways about that thought, turning it this way and that way in his mind as Isoko took up the conversation, talking about how to properly prepare sushi and what fish is best and all of the various arts of sushi that Mark had never known before. When they got to the sushi table, Isoko showed Mark how to eat it properly and then again how to eat it to make it taste good (which were two different things, somehow).

    Mark decided sushi was okay.

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s not for everyone,¡± Isoko said.

    Mark laughed. ¡°Have you had those burgers off of the grill? That guy is a great cook.¡±

    ¡°Not yet! I do want one, though¡­¡±

    - - - -

    Eliot looked down from the balcony at the pool area. Mark was down there with that Kanno girl and with a few other acolytes from the week¡¯s Class, all talking about the resolution to that week¡¯s Empire of Foodstuffs. One of Mark¡¯s minders started walking up from the sides; the Paladin Orissa, if Eliot remembered correctly, and he was pretty sure he did. A quick check on his phone told him that yeah, he did have that right.

    Orissa met with Mark and Mark looked embarrassed for a moment ¡ªprobably about breaking that glass and spilling wine; everyone would be talking about that for years¡ª but Orissa waved him off, probably telling him not to worry about it.

    One of the acolytes moved in to talk about something unrelated, and then that person¡¯s partner moved the conversation around to training missions, and ¡®Oh! You¡¯re up for a training mission too, huh, Mark? Fancy that!¡¯.

    Gods above, that guy was in the eye of a storm of popularity and intrigue.

    Eliot was pretty sure the guy either fully recognized that fact, and he maintained his core beliefs ¡ªthe Villains hadn¡¯t persuaded him, after all¡ª or he was oblivious.

    But he clearly wasn¡¯t oblivious.

    Cousin Tomou nudged his shoulder with his own, saying, ¡°He¡¯s not that unstable.¡±

    Eliot scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about that.¡±

    ¡°You should be. I¡¯m worried about that,¡± Tomou said. ¡°My father and uncle tried to talk to him about our new ocean wall but he exploded at both of them and then rapidly apologized and then he started crying.¡±

    Tomou was Nigerian, and Addashield¡¯s Dragon had put down an ocean wall across their bay last month, finally securing the pass between Asaba and Onitsha. That entire inland-sea behind that new wall was now truly usable territory, as long as they kept it clear of monsters, which they certainly could, now that new monsters weren¡¯t crawling inside all the time. If Mistress Storm and Red Thunder were still alive, then they would have had no problem clearing that entire place. It would have taken them several days, but that was fine. Without those two, it was going to take a year or five to clear that ocean.

    Even still, Nigeria was set on a path to becoming one of the largest powers in Africa because of that ocean wall, though it was already pretty much there. The wall just secured their base of power.

    Cybersong¡¯s Nigerian cousins were going to get very politically powerful. More than they already were, anyway. Tomou wasn¡¯t handling it very well, in Eliot¡¯s opinion.

    Eliot said, ¡°Of course he exploded at you. You guys tried to get him to talk about maintenance plans. Holy shit, Tomou. Just talk to the dragon himself.¡±

    Tomou strongly said, ¡°We¡¯re not talking to the dragon himself. That would be a violation of the Humanity Accords.¡±

    ¡°Like all the rest of humanity isn¡¯t violating those accords daily, and even more so now¡­¡± Eliot¡¯s voice trailed away as he looked down at Mark, and at all the people circling him who were clearly waiting for a proper moment to talk. He wasn¡¯t worried about most of those people. One shark made him very worried. A woman in pastel pinks and a sequined hat. ¡°Oh gods. Crystal Tower¡¯s Villain Program failed their bid, so now the Hero Program is trying? I thought the general consensus was that that was a bad idea.¡±

    The woman in pink was Ivona Gusca, also known as Mind Dancer; the Recruitment Coordinator for Crystal Tower.

    Tomou said, ¡°Ivona is probably going to try and direct him to the Villain Program, too. They can¡¯t have Mark¡¯s opinions about the dragon shouted out of a hero¡¯s mouth.¡±

    Eliot had too many sudden thoughts about all of that, so his mouth moved faster than his brain.

    He exclaimed, ¡°It¡¯s crazy to care about what that dragon wants! We should drive him off like we did all the rest. Tell me I¡¯m not insane, Tomou.¡±

    Tomou said, ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±

    ¡°I said to tell me the opposite of that.¡±

    ¡°Addashield¡¯s dragon is a High Dragon. Not just a smart kaiju, but a person-like kaiju. The High Dragons ruled all of Daihoon for 5,000 years, and some of them were even benevolent.¡±

    Eliot felt some kinda hypocrisy in the air. He eyed his cousin. ¡°So explain again why your people won¡¯t talk to him, if he¡¯s so benevolent?¡±

    Tomou scoffed. ¡°We won¡¯t violate the Humanity Accords, but at the same time we know what is what.¡±

    Eliot found himself suddenly not caring about that dragon anymore. ¡°Ugh, gods. I don¡¯t want to talk about this shit anymore.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine! So when are you going down there to make a plan with him for a training mission? Your mother bid heavily to make this week her week. Don¡¯t throw it away.¡±

    ¡°When did you turn into such a politician, Tomou.¡±

    ¡°When a High Dragon changed the fortunes of our city overnight and both father and mother slapped some sense into me.¡±

    Eliot rolled his eyes and said nothing. Instead, he put hands to the railing and looked down. Mark was talking with Ivona now, and it seemed to be going¡­ about as well as could be expected. Eliot stressed some sensors in order to listen in.

    Mark didn¡¯t want to be a part of any Hero or Villain Program. He wanted to do real work in the real world; not do jumped up propaganda and placation shows for the populace. Of course he was nicer about it than that, but Eliot could read between the lines. Everyone could.

    Eliot backed away from the railing and snatched up his glass of wine again, saying, ¡°I kinda like how he wants to go out into the wilderness and just kill shit. It¡¯s plain honorable¡­ But fucking hell, Tomou, I¡¯m a Man-made Manipulator. I don¡¯t want to whittle spears out of trees, or get trapped weeks from civilization.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re getting way ahead of yourselves. It¡¯s just a training exercise. What could go wrong?¡±

    ¡°Ah. So now you¡¯re cursing me. I see how it is.¡±

    Tomou laughed. ¡°I can do just fine away from civilization for a month. What¡¯s your fucking problem?¡±

    Eliot frowned at him. ¡°You told me you hated your expedition to the Richat Structure.¡±

    Tomou smirked. ¡°Nothing quite like holing up in a cave in the ground that you excavated yourself while the monsters prowl overhead. Makes you appreciate civilization more. It might be the same for Mark.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Worst case scenario you get a massive first video with millions of views. Maybe two or three videos.¡±

    Eliot rolled his eyes. ¡°Yeah yeah yeah. I already thought about that¡­¡± His voice trailed off as he looked downstairs again. Looked like Mark was moving on to somewhere else. Back to the food? Oh yeah. Back to the food. Eliot breathed deep, and then he said, ¡°Okay! Time to do this.¡± Eliot downed the rest of his wine glass and picked up his phone. ¡°COFR. Can I actually get a training mission with Mark Careed in a timely manner, or is he still under watch?¡±

    The phone flickered gold. Citadel of Freyala Resources said, ¡°Training missions for Mark Careed are subject to approval. You have already been approved.¡±

    Eliot breathed out softly¡ª

    Tomou looked affronted. ¡°You mean you didn¡¯t already know?¡±

    Eliot laughed. ¡°Come on now, cousin Tomou! Contrary to perception, I do a lot of pre-planning and quintuple-checking.¡± Eliot started walking inside but he turned back briefly, saying, ¡°I was unapproved as of an hour ago, and I bet you¡¯d still be unapproved if you bothered to check.¡±

    Tomou straightened up and then he fell in line with Eliot, walking with him. With a quick whisper he asked his phone, ¡°Can I get a training mission with Mark Careed?¡±

    ¡°Training missions for Mark Careed are subject to approval. You are not approved.¡±

    ¡°Well okay then.¡± Tomou put his phone back into his pocket, saying, ¡°Good luck on your bardic career, Eliot. The world will be watching.¡±

    Eliot grinned wider. ¡°Gods I hope so.¡±

 057

    As Mark walked over to the dessert table, Isoko was there with him. Mark was glad she was nearby, though it was probably a ploy from her grandmother. They really seemed to want him in the Villain Program. Mark had needed to fend off some pink woman ¡ªMark already forgot her name¡ª who was all about the Hero Program and how rich it could make him and how much fame he could get, but Mark wasn¡¯t interested in money at all and fame¡­ Mark was pretty sure he had enough of fame already. He¡¯d already be rich as a monster hunter, too, and...

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, as he bit into chocolate-covered ice cream bites.

    Isoko had her own bites, and her eyebrows went up, too. ¡°These are so good! What are these?¡±

    Mark asked her, ¡°The Hero Program wanted me to not like them, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    Isoko laughed once; a single surprised burst. And then she looked at Mark, pretending offense. ¡°Nooo! Are you saying the Hero Program isn¡¯t filled with absolute heroes? Noooooo!¡±

    ¡°Okay okay. Thank you very much. You can tone it down.¡± Mark looked around some as he stepped away from the dessert table, asking, ¡°So who shows up next¡ª Ah.¡±

    Mark spotted the next person before they arrived.

    He was a shortish guy, wiry and thin. Or maybe Mark¡¯s estimation of people was still off because he was taller now; he was still trying to get used to that change in perspective. The guy was brown-haired and skinned, and he had a weird hue to his eyes. Maybe brown, but maybe amber?

    The guy came right up to Mark, saying, ¡°I¡¯m up next. Eliot Cybersong. You want to go kill monsters on a training mission?¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. And then he smiled. He had checked on the possibility that he could go on a training mission sometime soon-ish, about an hour ago, when he had spotted Orissa at the party. He said, ¡°Yes. I want to do a training mission. Do you know where? When?¡±

    ¡°COFR assigns them as they become available. So far it¡¯s just you and me¡ª¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡±

    Mark had been about to suggest that very thing. He nodded. ¡°And Isoko.¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Eliot said, ¡°Then we¡¯d just need a Mind or Arcane, but maybe not. I¡¯m an Arch, but I can do pretty much everything a techmind can do, just without the actual mind-tech interface. Technology is good like that.¡±

    Mark eagerly asked, ¡°What is a Man-made Manipulator, anyway?¡±

    Eliot paused, not ready for Mark¡¯s enthusiasm or else reevaluating something; Mark did not know. And then Eliot said, ¡°Do you know what a Manipulator is? The category at all?¡±

    ¡°So I read up on that stuff, yes, but the idea still doesn¡¯t make sense to me. A Natural works along personal understandings of the world and a kinetic works on their specific physical thing. How is an Arch-type Manipulator any different than a Natural?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Eliot paused, then began, ¡°A lot of people would tell you that each Kinetic, Natural, and Arch are pretty much the same, and that¡¯s kinda true, but not really true at all. The difference has to do with the nature of magic itself. You know how all spell casting is based on imposed rules on the world? And how a mage taps into those rules to cast magics? Those rules are imposed by demons and the Stone God and Risen AI Malaqua, though Malaqua is a recent addition to those old rules. The basic magics were already in place for a very long time, due to the demons.

    ¡°Malaqua solidified understandings in a large way, parceling out stuff into the Body, Kinetic, Mind, Natural, Arcane, and Arch directions, and thus he repaired the Veil and separated the Two Worlds once again, yadda yadda, history schmistory.

    ¡°A Natural uses their own understanding of a weird thing in order to work in weird ways, which is a bending between mind and soul. A witch sprinkling herbs together in a stew and calling it a healing potion works because they say it works, because they believe it works. Naturals have a large range because they¡¯re all rather airy.

    ¡°A Kinetic takes their own understanding of a specific, tangible thing, and then uses it as a physical extension of their astral body.

    ¡°An Arch takes the demonic-soul-impositions on the world and manipulates them and all their attendant physicality and otherwise, with their astral body. Arch powers don¡¯t obey personal understandings at all, but I can stretch those imposed understandings a bit with some physical action. And that¡¯s probably the easiest way to explain the whole thing.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°Ah. That makes a lot more sense, then. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Anyway!¡± Eliot added, ¡°As for myself: I like people and being around people, and I hope to be quite famous someday, and if I have to trudge through a whole lot of monster guts to get there then I will. How about you?¡±

    Mark thought that all rather direct, and perhaps a bit too direct, but people were watching so it was best to be clear about these sorts of things, he supposed. Mark said, ¡°I want to be ready when needed and in the meantime I will act to save as much humanity as I can.¡±

    Eliot tried not to stare, as he asked, ¡°How do you feel about being famous? On camera for the world? ¡®Cause I have drones and I scout with them and I also splice videos about all of that together afterward.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ Like the Hero or Villain Program?¡±

    ¡°More like a standard bard from Daihoon, actually.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    ¡®Bard¡¯ was a very different thing entirely. Mark had almost no experience with any of that, but he knew, vaguely, that bards were historical record keepers and storytellers, more than they were people looking for popularity and money. More ¡®adventurers¡¯ but without the bad connotation of that word; they fit in every type of group in order to bring that group¡¯s story out into the rest of the world.

    Mark said, ¡°Neat! Do you have a channel already?¡±

    Eliot grinned. ¡°I do, actually.¡± He took out his phone and tapped away at it. ¡°I think my mother informed you that I was grounded because of a little thing with spiders¡­ and¡­ There!¡± He turned the phone around and handed it over. ¡°As you can see, I was never in danger at all.¡±

    Mark looked at the video for a moment, watching as Eliot sliced through some spiders with fishing line, or something, as a graphic overlaid the video explaining his Power and what it could and could not do. Mark raised eyebrows at that. He looked for the guy¡¯s channel name and views, and found them as ¡®VeryHuman¡¯ and 20,000 views. He handed the phone back, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll have to watch the whole thing sometime later. Do you have much experience moving between groups of people on Daihoon yet?¡±

    ¡°I got out of Curtain Protocol just months ago so I¡¯m still making real connections, but they¡¯re getting made. My main idea is to sign up with the Slayers, with COFR directing me toward problem areas and stuff like that.¡±

    Mark grinned a little. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about the Slayers. They¡¯re rather unbeholden to any great power but still respected, unlike adventurers.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty much exactly what I want, so unless I get a whole lot of better offers then I¡¯m probably going that way,¡± Eliot said, glancing around.

    Mark chuckled at that. Eliot probably would get better offers after this. Maybe someone would try to do an end run on Mark through Eliot, which would be interesting¡ª

    Eliot asked Isoko, ¡°How about you, Isoko? What are your great plans?¡±

    Isoko shrugged, and said, ¡°I¡¯m going into the Grand Guard. I¡¯ve got family in Crytalis, and the plan is to do patrols and maybe meet a nice guy. The opportunities for advancement practically anywhere in Daihoon are fantastic.¡±

    Mark smiled at that, jumping in, saying, ¡°Why is Daihoon doing it so much better than Earth on that front, do you think? Because that¡¯s what I¡¯ve heard, too. Anyone can just go out and clear land and secure a city and it all just sort of works out.¡±

    A pause.

    Eliot wasn¡¯t sure how to answer that question, or where to go with it.

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    Isoko shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s not a single part of Earth that isn¡¯t spoken for, that some individual culture is not trying to reclaim from the monsters. But Endless Daihoon is only 500,000,000 humans in three major Empires and only two of those Empires are fully independent while the third is just happy to play nice with everyone. And it¡¯s Endless Daihoon.¡±

    Eliot said to Isoko, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s most of it. But the larger part is that they¡¯ve been fighting wars with the monsters for 5,000 years, so they know what to do. People on Earth still make mistakes and die to monsters, so they made the whole hero/villain stay-in-the-cities thing and we kinda stabilized around that. We¡¯ve got giant cities, though, so there¡¯s a lot valid with that strategy.¡±

    Isoko said to Eliot, ¡°We could clear Earth of monster if we wanted, but we don¡¯t because the people who can take the land and secure it are stepping on the toes of older generations who still hold onto those old borders because they want to, even if they can¡¯t defend them at all.¡±

    Mark nodded a little.

    Eliot said, ¡°Aside from the fact that those old borders still exist because it was the one ¡®best¡¯ way to prevent World War 4, by making no one able to challenge borders at all, the monsters attack all the time and constantly come through everywhere, so I do not agree that we could clear Earth of monsters if we wanted. They just pop up sometimes. That¡¯s why we have border walls and City AIs that constantly check everything. The powerful people need to stay where they are to keep the land we have secured. If everyone scattered to the winds we¡¯d have 25% of the population of Earth just die because they can¡¯t defend themselves properly, and the return of monarchies and shit like that, like they have over on Daihoon.¡±

    Okay. Those were valid points, too.

    Isoko said, ¡°We could absolutely glass parts of the planet and turn it into plains, ensuring that nothing grows but prairie grasses. Slimes would pop up, sure, but it¡¯s better than other options.¡±

    Mark was surprised at that suggestion. ¡°Really? And just kill all of the life out there in the woods and elsewhere?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°It¡¯s all full of monsters anyway, but yeah; that¡¯s an extreme solution. Very Okuanan.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°The Dominion of Okuana has some good points about killing everything and then reseeding biodiversity to inhibit monster growth.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Can you really do that? That ¡®inhibit monster growth¡¯, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Oh sure,¡± Isoko said, ¡°The Church of Hearthswell does that all the time. Though that¡¯s more ¡®inhibiting spawning¡¯ than ¡®growth¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Okuana does enchanted trees in forests. Hearthswell puts enchantments on city walls,¡± Eliot said. ¡°That secures cities pretty well from tiny Veil breaks. Without those we¡¯d just die.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°With her Castellan, right? To organize the land in certain directions.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡±

    And then, somehow, Eliot and Isoko got into a conversation about the various pros and cons of using nuclear armaments across the entire planet and then coming back in with proper cleansing magics, and Mark managed to know something about that. Cleaner plants! Those tube-like air-sucker plants that cleaned up the air, and which Mark had used in his studies with Lola once, had special breeds that cleaned up nuclear fallout. The nursery at the Healing House even had some. They were big, neon-orange things, and they glowed brightly in the presence of nuclear radiation.

    ¡°They¡¯re pretty small things in the nursery, though. Lola said that they have to be cared for a lot when there isn¡¯t an active nuclear site they have to be used on.¡±

    The three of them had moved to a lawn to the side, to sit in the sun and talk.

    Eliot said to Isoko, ¡°Even if there was a truly good systemic solution to clearing Earth of monsters, bombing Earth is not a good idea.¡±

    Isoko was just having fun with it now as she teased the guy, ¡°Everyone should just evacuate to Daihoon for a year or five and then nuclear bomb the entire Earth and then come back later when it¡¯s clear. We can do the same thing to a good portion of Daihoon; just have all the daihoonians come over to Earth for 5 years.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes.

    Eliot laughed. ¡°That¡¯s a great idea! You should save it in your pocket for when you¡¯re making a supervillain speech.¡±

    ¡°Grandma already used that one 30 years ago,¡± Isoko said, grinning.

    ¡°What was the outcome?¡± Mark asked, fully invested.

    Eliot laughed. ¡°It¡¯s safe to say that it did not happen!¡±

    Mark briefly felt embarrassed¡ª

    Isoko told him, ¡°It was this whole storyline cooked up by the Hero/Villain Program, one of the Big Storylines, if you know what those are¡ª¡±

    ¡°I do not,¡± Mark said.

    Isoko said, ¡°A supervillain threatens to blow up the sun, and it¡¯s like a multi-stage story that happens over a whole season, with hero candidates coming in and fighting and failing, usually. The story can change depending on who wins in certain areas and stuff like that, and at the end of the 9-month season the hero candidates either win or lose.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Wait.¡± Mark asked, ¡°How does a supervillain ¡®win¡¯? Is that even possible?¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°Grandma would say it isn¡¯t possible, because they just bring out Glorious Man to clean up the plot if it ever gets that bad.¡±

    Eliot smirked. ¡°How would a supervillain blow up the sun in one season and then have the world still exist in the next season?¡±

    Mark got the sudden impression that Eliot and Isoko were referencing something specific. He had watched the movies like everyone else, but he didn¡¯t know what they were talking about.

    Isoko rolled her eyes. ¡°Grandma really wanted to win that one. She got close! They were in talks about it a lot, about how they¡¯d do it. It would have been a lot of special effects and people playing parts like they¡¯re real. Like that Empire of Foodstuffs game, but less AI constrained.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s neat,¡± Mark said, feeling oddly comfortable with that idea.

    ¡°Yup,¡± Isoko said, ¡°A lot less stressful than hunting monsters for real.¡±

    Eliot smiled as he said, ¡°If you¡¯re stressing out on a monster hunt then you¡¯re doing it wrong.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Mark said, suddenly uncomfortable. ¡°You cannot mean that.¡±

    Isoko lost some of her composure, too. ¡°I heard you were reckless, but tell me you¡¯re not that relaxed out on the field, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m gonna show you a good trick that I bet neither of you know about.¡± He pulled out his phone, and then he sort of pulled off a part of the phone, like he pulled off a bit of flickering putty. ¡°My Talent is Man-made Manipulation, yeah?¡± He pulled the putty into a thin pair of glasses that he buffed up larger. He handed it over to Mark, and then he made another one for Isoko. ¡°Here you go. Neither of you will be able to break them without directly trying to break them, so please don¡¯t try. They¡¯re not that strong¡­ Well? Put ¡®em on!¡±

    Mark looked at the glasses for a moment¡­ And then he put them on.

    And suddenly, he saw differently. Numbers appeared when he looked at Isoko, and then back at Eliot. Scanner numbers. Eliot was at tier 3 Arch, and tier 1 everything else. Isoko was at tier 2 Body, and, oh, tier 2 everything else, too? Huh. Platinum Body must be doing that for her¡ª

    ¡°Field Scan for non-human signatures,¡± Eliot said.

    And the view changed. Almost all numbers vanished, leaving behind just¡­ nothing, really.

    Mark looked around.

    Isoko looked around.

    Mark asked, ¡°So that¡¯s very impressive, but there¡¯s nothing showing up right now?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I don¡¯t see anything either.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s a good thing,¡± Eliot said, ¡°People scan.¡±

    The readout changed completely, and now Mark saw faint outlines around every person around him, as well as a little arrows at the side of his view. As he turned, those arrows resolved into people, and as he turned more, those outlines became arrows again, indicating nearby people just out of sight.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Mark said, ¡°This is amazing.¡±

    Isoko breathed deep, and said, ¡°This is why the Cybersongs are a noble house of Freyala. I had heard that you could do something like this, but not¡­ this.¡± She looked all around. ¡°This is¡­ a lot.¡±

    Mark asked Isoko, ¡°Platinum Body gives you resistances in every single category?¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°Yes. I thought I told you this?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize that it meant your Body tier was your tier in everything.¡± Mark looked at his own hands, and saw his outline. He was tier 2 Natural and tier 1 everything else. ¡°Can you scan actual Power Level?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Not yet. Working on that. It¡¯s a lot more invasive to do that and it¡¯s usually not necessary, anyway.¡± He snapped his fingers and the glasses flowed off of Mark¡¯s and Isoko¡¯s faces, back to his phone, to rejoin what was there and fill out what had been lost. ¡°And so! You can see why I said that stressing out on a monster hunt is doing it wrong. If you¡¯re not out in the field with a proper scout, then you¡¯re just gonna die.¡± He looked to Mark. ¡°Union can do some of this, but not nearly as well as I can. I know Paladins get that application of Union. Not sure what actual-Union can do.¡±

    ¡°I have a private tutor, Inquisitor Lola. Lola is great. I¡¯ll probably learn how to scan for nearby people soon enough. I¡¯m moving over to Healing Club on Monday, too, so they might talk about it there.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re dropping out of Sparring Club?¡± Isoko asked. ¡°Right before we get to start using weapons?¡±

    ¡°I''m getting torn apart out there, and I don¡¯t think using weapons will matter.¡±

    ¡°Brawnies are fucking crazy, so I don¡¯t blame you,¡± Eliot said, grinning.

    Isoko scoffed. ¡°We¡¯re only that crazy when we have dedicated healers.¡±

    Mark grinned.

    The conversation meandered, and it was nice.

    Eventually, Mark exchanged information with Eliot and also with Isoko, since the three of them were going on a training mission together. Mark wasn¡¯t sure exactly when that had been decided, but it was happening. The party lasted for several more hours, with Mark splitting up from Isoko and Eliot at Eliot¡¯s suggestion, because a lot of people still wanted to talk to him.

 058

    Eliot stood in a side room, away from the party. His mother, Sophia, also known as Circuitbender, stood with him. There was a small circular table separating them from the other people in the room, and no windows. The door was shut and sound was blocked.

    Isoko and Wandering Sage stood on the other side of the table.

    Circuitbender opened up with, ¡°I put forth an agreement of non-interference. We will not interfere with your plans for Mark, and you will not interfere with ours.¡±

    Wandering Sage said, ¡°I agree to this agreement in the largest of senses, but the minutiae will prove this agreement as untenable. Instead, I put forth that we adopt a position of allies with each other, with the goal of propping Mark up as far as he can go, alongside Citadel Freyala.¡±

    Circuitbender eyed Wandering Sage. ¡°My end goal is to have him as an Inquisitor of Freyala. What is your goal?¡±

    ¡°Supervillain. I want him to be allowed to politically challenge his ¡®brother¡¯ within the realm of fiction, and one day be able to kill dragons with ease.¡±

    Circuitbender did not scoff, but Eliot could tell she wanted to. Probably just to make a point, though. Everyone going into this meeting here already knew what the other party wanted, though Eliot was a bit worried about that ¡®kill dragons with ease¡¯ part. Isoko looked a little worried, too.

    One did not simply start out a career planning on becoming a dragon hunter¡­

    But, Eliot supposed, maybe some people did.

    Mark certainly qualified.

    Assisting someone in making dragons was just as bad as dealing with demons, and every single report that COFR had been able to create, and which Eliot had been able to sneak a glance at, painted Mark as an unwitting accomplice to that great evil. So he was cleared of wrongdoing, which was good.

    And Addashield¡¯s Dragon was rather cooperative. He was clearly on his way to becoming a nation unto himself, just like Addashield had been.

    Eliot had only ever seen the archmage at one of grandmother¡¯s parties, maybe twice, and it chilled him to know that a Hero of Humanity had been secretly making hidden dragons and killing his apprentices for over 300 years. Gods above, this was the biggest political thing to happen on Earth since Glorious Man came of age and started actively hunting kaiju every other weekend, when he was still 20.

    Would Mark do that, too?

    It was possible, though he¡¯d have to be a lot smarter about it than Glorious Man¡¯s ¡®Big Punch!¡¯ attacks, and especially with that airy-black-vein thing he had going on. Honestly, ¡®supervillain¡¯ would look good on him.

    Eliot was unsure that Freyala wanted anything to do with that, though.

    Circuitbender said, ¡°I haven¡¯t spoken to anyone about your plot to turn Mark villain, but I will speak on it now, here in private. Guiding Mark to become a villain is dangerous, even for you. Mark¡¯s outbursts are getting less extreme. With time, he might even leave all of that behind. It would be wiser not to antagonize that particular dragon, at this particular time, for to try and politically maneuver a dragon in any way is to simply infuriate them.¡±

    Wandering Sage simply, deeply, said, ¡°Your plan for Inquisitor coincides nicely with my plan to make him a villain, and the simple fact is that no one makes anyone at our power level do anything. Mark will be at this level soon enough; within 5 years. The dragon is already there. Do you think we don¡¯t have plans to kill Glorious Man if he were to ever get mind-controlled by a bad actor? Do you think we don¡¯t have plans for all the great powers of the world, if they turn actually evil, or if they go outside of the allowed evils of the Villain Program? Of course we have plans. Plans within plans, all based on the natures of people, as they are. All I am asking of you is to leave the door open for Mark to become a villain, and if he walks through it, then he walks through it, and we will gain another plan against the dragon. Or at least a distraction.¡± Wandering Sage said, ¡°It is quite possible that naming Mark as his brother is just one such distraction, and he plans on murdering Mark the very second he steps out of Freyala¡¯s oversight.¡±

    Eliot felt his heart pulse hard, sweat gathering under his arms. Because, yeah, he had considered that possibility, too. He wondered if Mark had considered that possibility, in his plan to go on training missions outside of the city. Eliot looked to Isoko.

    Isoko had no such startled reaction. She already knew about that possibility. She was ready for it.

    Eliot didn¡¯t understand that; how could anyone their age be ready to face a dragon?

    Wandering Sage said, ¡°Isoko will join Mark for a training mission or two, but beyond that she will split off and go on her own. I hope that you will make your Eliot do the same.¡±

    Circuitbender stood tall. ¡°I haven¡¯t discussed that with him yet, but your words are taken under advisement.¡± And then Circuitbender vanished; the tilt of Mom¡¯s hips, her shoulders, and the countenance of her face. All of it was the same. All of it changed. Sophia Cybersong said, ¡°Thanks for coming to the party, Arei.¡±

    Wandering Sage ¡ªfor she was never ¡®off¡¯¡ª was a bit more pleasant than a moment ago, as she said, ¡°It¡¯s been a good party. You really outdid yourself this time.¡±

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    Sophia went to the door and opened it, saying, ¡°You should come around more often; this is a pretty normal party for the Cybersong house.¡±

    Wandering Sage said something about how life was at Crystal Tower this time of year, and how Glorious Man¡¯s last party had been rather amazing. Both of them seemed to be saying perfectly normal things, but you could cut the anger in the air with a knife.

    The two plotters went out of the room, leaving Eliot and Isoko alone.

    Eliot asked, ¡°Mark is probably going to stay on Daihoon once he gets there, yeah?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I certainly am, so maybe he and I will stick around together for a little while.

    Eliot grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t like this particular arena?¡±

    ¡°Not when I¡¯m effectively an F rank.¡±

    Eliot lost his grin. He nodded. The Tyranny of Talents was ever a dividing line upon the Two Worlds that only demons, gods, and fools could ever cross. Everyone else just landed where they landed.

    Eliot said, ¡°I could see Mark as a villain.¡±

    Isoko scoffed. ¡°I can see it, too!¡± She dropped her voice, ¡° ¡®Why are you hitting me! I¡¯m a human, just like you!¡¯.¡±

    Eliot waved her off. ¡°That¡¯s a normal problem for a fundie. He¡¯ll get over it, and once he does he just needs a writer. All good villains have good writers.¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow and looked at Eliot. ¡°You have dreams of fame, don¡¯t you.¡±

    ¡°The biggest dreams.¡±

    Isoko frowned a little. ¡°Don¡¯t use him like that. He doesn¡¯t deserve that.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°And you¡¯re not trying to do the same thing?¡±

    ¡°Nope, because I know we¡¯ll never be in the same bracket. If I stick around him I¡¯ll be the one used, which is fine, but I¡¯m not sure I want to be that close to the dragon.¡±

    Eliot frowned a little. He just nodded.

    - - - -

    In the middle of Rome, beside a house that used to be whole and was now rubble, the rubble shifted. One rock fell inward, revealing a depression that was invisible until then. Another stone collapsed into a hole in the rubble, rapidly followed by a third. A cavity opened. The air inside the hole was black, but also filled with rainbows, like gossamer veils breaking, separating, exposing a cave beyond.

    A goblin on the other side screamed as it ran away from a monster, directly through the cave, into the open air.

    Ten sharp talons, like ripping anger, clawed at the opening in the Veil between worlds, but the gossamer thread was already sealing. Talons scrambled to hold open the hole in the world. Roars of frustration echoed out from between the talons; a roar of pain, anguish, and frustration. The big monster pulled back, but not fast enough. The break in reality sealed shut, once again.

    Meters of white talons now rested upon the ground, severed from their owner. Not much blood.

    The goblin sat, dumbfounded. He saw that just happen, and he has no idea what to make of it all. Where he had been, had been death. But here, the setting sun anointed the sky and the land all around with peace. The broken claws lay here and there.

    Disbelief rocked him. The goblin looked at its hands, and then at the open sky, crisscrossed with tiny white lines.

    The goblin shouted for joy. It was a whooping sound. A war sound. A call to eat and be merry.

    Above the goblin, a bit of an overhanging wall shifted in the late light of the day. Eight legs stretched, eight eyes looked down at the prey below. The mimic spider rapidly judged the green, moving flesh, to be a good size target, so it dropped from the overhang and landed directly on¡ª

    The goblin snatched the spider out of the air and then ripped into it, plucking off the fangs and eating it face first. It was delicious. He burped halfway through the meal. His wounds sealed up, like they were never there in the first place, and the goblin tossed the half-eaten corpse to the side.

    The corpse bubbled with transformation, and soon, a broken fetus of a goblin crawled out of the flesh.

    The big goblin stared down at the broken, useless thing, and then he stomped on it

    He needed to find bigger fleshbags to transform into brothers; not baby spider fleshbags. Though they were quite tasty. With uncanny knowing, the goblin looked around at squiggles on the sides of buildings. He didn¡¯t know what he was seeing right away, but he knew language when he saw it. He¡¯d learn, eventually.

    At least he was in human territory. That much was easily visible, and human territory was either quick-quick death, or an overwhelming victory.

    With imprecision, the goblin said, ¡°Aye ami don Earth how. Haye thepeak anguisht don Earth.¡±

    ¡®Anguisht¡¯? No. They call the language something else here.

    The goblin was close, though.

    He would find out what the words said from his brothers as soon as he could make some family out of some smart prey. There was bound to be good prey in this peaceful place, somewhere. Humans, no doubt. Humans always made the smartest goblin-fodder. Maybe some goblin could be born that was worth a damn¡ª

    Another spider dropped on him.

    Another small meal, eaten and gone.

    And then the spiders started to coordinate.

    This was a much easier problem than the big talon monster. The goblin started chomping on spiders, rolling out of the way of cast webbing, and then he chowed on more spiders. Just one bite. Not too deep. Just enough to matter.

    Within minutes the weakest spiders were dead. Bodies bloated and then popped, and brothers rolled out into the world. They were a bit fuzzy and they had large eyes, but they could scout and hide well.

    Couldn¡¯t speak worth a damn, not yet, but that was fine.

 059

    The sky was dark and filled with clouds, while the red lights of hovercars patrolled out beyond the walls of Citadel.

    Mark walked along the running road near the wall, just to get away from it all, to walk in the dark and clear his head. The air was cool and Summer was nearing an end, so it was going to get colder. Florida never got snow, but they¡¯d get snow here at Citadel. Mark wanted to see snow.

    He wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to participate in any more situations like he had back there at the party.

    The party had been decent¡­ ish. Really good, all things considered. He accomplished his goal of meeting high society, but breaking that wine glass had been a¡­ a bad moment.

    ¡­ Anyway! Mark had definitely not eaten that well in a long time, and he had even made a new maybe-friend. Eliot seemed like a great guy. Great scout, for sure. It was nice to see Isoko in a new environment, too. Isoko was probably someone to keep in touch with.

    ¡­ Mark needed to call Sally again.

    Was she near a phone right now?

    ¡­ Mark ignored that tangent and focused on the party.

    There seemed to be at least 3 major factions trying to get Mark to go their way.

    The first faction were the Cybersongs. They wanted Mark to be a paladin of Freyala. This was a complicated thing, because Mark had been 100% sure, before tonight, that Freyala wanted Mark to just move on into the world, and look back on his time here at Citadel fondly, and maybe as a fall-back option. Not the main option.

    The second, weirdest faction, was the Villain Program of Crystal Tower. A freaking supervillain was trying to recruit Mark, for gods¡¯ sakes. Wandering Sage seemed like a decent person, outside of her over-the-top villain persona she played on the screen. She raised good points. You don¡¯t risk your world-saving heroes on fighting real battles all the time; every battle carried risk, and any one could die to any number of weird monster magics, at any time. And at the same time, heroes still needed villains in order to know how to fight when it came time to fight, and villains needed to be honorable but willing to play the heel. The whole movie-and-television-show-business aspect of it all was just the vehicle to keep the participants battle ready.

    And Wandering Sage wanted to kill Addashield¡¯s Dragon.

    The third faction was Mark and his Parents.

    Mark didn¡¯t want to live his life in revenge against a monster that was cooperating with the world, and especially if the whole world wanted to keep the monster around. Mark had other plans, and none of them involved being consumed by a dead-end revenge.

    Walking in the dark, thinking about everything, Mark let his mind wander for a while.

    And then he took out his phone and called up Sally. She was probably on Daihoon right now, so if this call connected it was going to be a miracle. Mark would just leave her a voicemail¡ª

    ¡°Mark!¡± Sally blurted out, ¡°Oh my gods are you okay?! I was worried sick!¡± People were talking in the background. Sally yelled at them, ¡°Oh fuck off! I¡¯m talking here!¡± She said, ¡°Hold on, Mark. I need to get somewhere¡ª Hmm¡ª Mark? You there?!¡±

    Sally was somewhere quieter now.

    And Mark had stopped in his tracks. His voice cracked, ¡°Y¡ª yeah. Hey, Sally.¡±

    Sally¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°Y¡ª You okay, Mark?¡±

    ¡°No, not really, but I will be.¡±

    Sally sniffled. Then she strongly said, ¡°Good.¡± And then she said, ¡°I heard you got fucking tall, dude!¡±

    Mark chuckled once. ¡°Six foot three inches.¡±

    ¡°Holy fuck! You might actually come up to my chin.¡±

    Mark scoffed¡ª He paused. ¡°¡­ Wait. To your chin?¡±

    Sally chuckled and said, ¡°Sooooo¡­ there¡¯s this Brawny power called Giant¡¯s Streeeength¡ª¡±

    ¡°Holy fuck! Congrats! I¡¯ve sparred with them and I can¡¯t even punch them anymore, and I¡¯m tier 1 Body already. Giant¡¯s Strength is one of the really, really good ones! Did you get the Rank B or A version?¡±

    Proudly, Sally declared, ¡°I am a rank A Giant¡¯s Strength! Times 12-point-4! It might even go up higher someday!¡±

    Mark felt a profound sense of joy. He smiled, and he softly said, ¡°That¡¯s really, really good, Sally. Congrats.¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°Fuck yeah it¡­ is¡­¡± She went quiet. And then she said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how to say this right. I¡¯m just gonna say it. I¡¯m sorry about your parents and I hope you¡¯re not thinking of revenge, or getting anywhere near that dragon. I lost you once and I don¡¯t want to lose you again. You need to come out here to Daihoon and forget all of that shit back home.¡±

    Mark felt his heart ache, black veins pulsing out from his astral body into the night, almost invisible. He said, ¡°I think that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do, but I¡¯ve gotten some supervillains asking me to be a villain for Crystal Tower, and I have to at least consider it.¡±

    Sally was quiet, but Mark might have heard a scoff; he wasn¡¯t sure. And then Sally asked, ¡°You¡¯re not seriously going to be a cartoon villain, are you? Get endorsement deals from soft drink companies? Get beat up on the weekends?¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°Apparently it''s this whole system¡­¡±

    Mark ended up talking to Sally for a good hour about everything and anything.

    Somehow they ended up on monsters, and how Sally was regularly fighting them now.

    ¡°The worst shits are the goblins,¡± Sally said. ¡°Almost all monsters are just mindless horrors, but goblins are smart and the older ones can talk, but literally all they want to do is infect everyone with their corruptive goblin magic and turn them into more goblins. At first, they made me doubt the human/monster divide because they can talk and reason, but they used those words and reason to try and kill you, to get around you to kill the people you¡¯re protecting.¡± Sally exclaimed, ¡°This one time it was a talker ¡ªthat¡¯s what we call them when they¡¯re like that¡ª and he was talking about trade routes and staying in goblin territory and we were pretending to be interested, to listen, but our scout was watching 4 goblins walk through the underbrush to try and surround us. They tried to spring a trap but they got sprung instead. It was easier to let them come to us to die instead of chasing them down.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°That sounds like the stories I read about them. I encountered a baby goblin at the end of his time in the Tutorial. It had a mace and it talked at me. Addashield was there, though, and he said how it was just trying to confuse me with not-words, and that confusion worked for half a minute as it slowly walked toward me. But I saw it was coming in for a kill and killed it back,¡± Mark said, ¡°Addashield said something about mountain goblin folk, or something like that. Not sure. Only that I would kill a lot of them during my life.¡±

    ¡°He was probably talking about the Endless Mountains. You know Daihoon is kinda like a candy-wrapped Earth, yeah? And the candy wrapper goes off the north and south poles?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I learned that, like, weeks ago, or something.¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm! The mountains and valleys form in the candy-wrapper part at the poles. They¡¯re full of impossible heights and depths. Full of monsters, too. You can follow the rivers up the valleys, though, and you either pop out on Earth, if you know the way, or you walk up into Endless Daihoon! All up in the motherfucking magnetosphere, Mark. There are so many mysteries about Endless Daihoon. People think that Heaven is located somewhere up there, and also the Elves and other fantasy races that might actually be not-monsters. You could theoretically walk to the moon if you wanted, but ain¡¯t no one does that¡­ Some dragons have, though.¡±

    They were on to the dragon now, eh?

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m hearing, over here, that a lot of people don¡¯t hate the idea of Addashield¡¯s Dragon. They like him. They want him as a new god. I hear there¡¯s a history of that in Daihoon?¡±

    Sally sounded like she might be shaking her head. ¡°If any of the big settlements spots a dragon that dragon is getting shot out of the sky. But there¡¯s an undercurrent, you know. Ancient history. Ancient magics. Ancient dragons who are still known ¡®allies of humanity¡¯, as ridiculous as that sounds. I don¡¯t know what to make of it at all, either, but it¡¯s definitely a thing that is happening¡­ And he¡¯s calling you ¡®his brother¡¯.¡±

    Mark breathed. ¡°Yeah. I have tried not to think about that too much.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Anyway! Yeah. There¡¯s a history of dragons being in charge over here, and a lot of people want them back in charge. It¡¯s a whole thing.¡±

    Mark scowled at the night, at that thought.

    He stopped in his tracks.

    ¡­ He kept walking. ¡°They really do, huh?¡±

    ¡°History is more complicated than how we were taught in school, under the Curtain.¡±

    Mark heard the distant rage in Sally¡¯s voice when she said ¡®Curtain¡¯. It mirrored Mark¡¯s own feelings. He said, ¡°When I found out we were raised fundamentalist¡ª Well. Short story: I¡¯m taking an ¡®Understanding Curtain Protocol¡¯ class here at Citadel Freyala, and¡ª Oh.¡± Mark looked at his phone. ¡°We¡¯ve been talking for two hours. Want me to talk about what I heard in class, or later?¡±

    Sally sighed a little, and it might have been a yawn. ¡°I do, Mark, but¡­ I¡¯m mostly over my own rage, and I lucked out with this version of Brawny. It¡¯s hard to be mad when you won the Talent lottery.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Have you learned tactile telekinesis yet?¡±

    Sally chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m working on it! This is actually really good practice to hold my phone and not have it break, even when I¡¯m kinda¡­ really tired.¡±

    Mark smiled softly. ¡°I miss you, Sally. I¡¯ll see you later¡ª Or you could come here! But then you¡¯d get involved in politics, I think. I¡¯m here for another 6-ish months; I don¡¯t know. 7? I talked to people about it today and schedules are all sorts of malleable.¡±

    Sally yawned on the other end of the phone, then she said, ¡°I have duties to Drakarok and I don¡¯t want to go back to Earth for a while. The family all relocated to Memphi, though. I think a lot of people did. So I might see you there, if you go there, but I hope to see you here, Mark, on Daihoon. We could really use a big-time healer.¡± She sighed dramatically, then added, ¡°And your other Talents too, I guess.¡±

    Mark chuckled.

    Sally easily said, ¡°I love you, Mark. Don¡¯t die on me.¡±

    Mark felt his heart beat hard. ¡°I¡­ I love you too, Sally. Don¡¯t die on m¡ª¡±

    Sally¡¯s voice turned high pitched, ¡°As a friend! As a friend! I like girls and you don¡¯t like anyone! I¡¯m too tired! Good night!¡±

    She hung up.

    Mark smiled brightly.

    He was going to hold that over her head for the rest of her life.

    ¡­ But in a loving sort of way.

    Obviously.

    - - - -

    Sunday was lazy, and Mark needed that.

    - - - -

 060

    Monday morning.

    Mark was dressed for the arena, but he did not go into the arena with all the other brawnies. He went through a side entrance, to a different sort of room that was mostly a way station that led directly out onto the stands.

    To the Healing Club.

    Most of the people for Healing Club were already out there on the stands, but Grand Healer Badaira and Inquisitor Lola were in the hallway, talking, when Mark turned the corner.

    Both of the women glanced at Mark, and then they recognized him.

    Badaira grinned as she said, ¡°Welcome, Mark.¡±

    Mark bowed to Badaira. He rose, and said, ¡°Glad to be here.¡± He looked to Lola, adding, ¡°I¡¯m glad you could come.¡±

    Mark had sent off an email to Lola yesterday asking about the lessons for the week, and Healing Club, and how all of that would work out. Lola had replied that she might just come today, though it was not a sure thing, and that they could have a lesson during the club.

    It seemed Lola was able to come today.

    Lola smiled beatifically¡­ Which she really only did when she was angry at someone.

    ¡­ She wasn¡¯t angry at Mark, was she?

    Lola said, ¡°Barring a few individual lessons during today, we can likely transfer the bulk of your learning to Healing Club. There¡¯s nothing quite like pure practice, and Healing Club can do most of that.¡± She lightly turned toward Badaira, adding, ¡°I was speaking with Grand Healer Badaira about plans. I believe that you might only be staying here for a week, to work on vast workings and throughput, and then you should move on to the higher sparring clubs as soon as possible.¡±

    Badaira did a tiny little bow, with just her head. ¡°Staying here and forgoing the higher sparring clubs might help you develop a vast appreciation for Union, for its main power is not in helping small groups, but in leading armies.¡±

    Both of the women had put certain spins on their words, but only Badaira did it directly. Lola was more circumspect.

    Mark got the impression that maybe the women didn¡¯t like each other, or maybe they were rivals.

    Lola said, ¡°In all likelihood you will be able to do both, but you are advancing fast, and I don¡¯t want you to pick up too many habits from normal Union users.¡±

    Badaira resigned her arguments to a regal sort of silence.

    The two healers were definitely having a fight, and they were being exceedingly polite about it.

    The fight was about Mark, wasn¡¯t it.

    Mark said, ¡°I am highly interested in smaller scale combats between unique forces, if that helps. But is¡­¡± Mark was about to ask if ¡®coordinating an army¡¯ was truly that difficult, and then he realized the depth of where that question led him. Of course coordinating an army was difficult. Mark didn¡¯t even want to think about that, though. ¡°Er¡­ I¡¯m not sure I want to¡­ coordinate armies?¡±

    Badaira latched on to that, asking, ¡°Not even armies of supporters in order to fight a kaiju with your own power? Or focusing the power of a city onto an individual, either for good or for bad?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said.

    An army could be ¡®everyone who lives in a city that is under attack¡¯, couldn¡¯t it.

    Badaira had spoken of Freyala¡¯s rise to power, back when the goddess was known as Emily Turner, of using Union to focus the evils that the dragon Partanatrax had caused back onto that dragon. Emily Turner had become a void-dark heart, killing the dragon in one beat of her Power.

    Mark thought for a moment, about many different things, and concluded, ¡°I was approved for a training mission in two weeks. I should get some small-scale training before then.¡±

    Lola just nodded, so small it might not have even happened.

    Badaira bowed to Lola, and then moved on, up the stairs leading to the stadium seating.

    Mark remained with Lola for a moment, asking her, ¡°Did something happen?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°Nothing in particular. Badaira and I used to be companions. She went into healing, becoming a Grand Healer. I went into the Paladins, and then I became an Inquisitor. We fundamentally disagree on the best ways to use Union, but if you want to learn how to heal an entire city, then Badaira is the one you should listen to.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°She can do that?¡±

    ¡°You can too, using the same tricks that she does, that we all do. Even the lowest Union healer could do it, too, but linking a city is a fundamentally dangerous act, and the only way any politician or leader would allow such a coordination is if they cannot stop you, because you are stronger than them, or if it actually needs done, and they agree to assist.¡± Lola looked at Mark. ¡°You will be of the first category, of powers impossible to stop if you want to do something, so it is important to align yourself with proper organizations, Mark. Do the Slayer thing for a few years in the beginning, but take the Villain Program job later. It will vastly boost your credibility.¡±

    Mark felt a weight. ¡°Really? The Villain thing? You approve?¡±

    ¡°Inquisitors are murderers, Mark. There is no way around that. We hunt and kill the demon-possessed, the Fallen and the would-Fall. Villains and Inquisitors align a lot nicer in goals than either Wandering Sage or Cybersong wish to admit, but which Freyala easily sees,¡± Lola said, ¡°We would welcome you as an Inquisitor, by the way, but not for years.¡±

    Mark had an emotional reaction to the idea of killing, and so he made an emotional decision, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do that. Become an Inquisitor. Kill people.¡±

    As though Mark had just commented on the weather, Lola continued, ¡°And that¡¯s fine. It¡¯s a terrible, horrible thing to kill people. I hope you never have to do it. But you should still eventually learn how. If you should end up on Daihoon, you might be called to do exactly that.¡±

    Mark¡¯s thoughts went blank.

    He came back to himself. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Inquisitors are mostly active on Daihoon, just so you know.¡± Lola discarded the heavy topic like she was throwing a weight overboard. She seemed lighter, as she said, ¡°But we can leave all of that for other days. For now, let us heal and directly protect people.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes, please.¡±

    Lola led the way into the arena, right past a well-stocked vending-machine area. Mark only really noticed the vending machine area because it had a sign up that read, ¡®Free for Healing Club Members! Honor System!¡¯. Mark kinda wondered what that was about, but then Lola went up some wide stairs, into the arena, and Mark followed.

    The sun slanted into the arena, but the healer area was in the shade and it would continue to be in the shade for the whole day. People were already sitting around, chatting. The brawnies were coming onto the field down below, walking in the sun. Some of them were shielding their eyes, briefly, as they looked around.

    Lola sat down in the front-middle of the pack and patted the seat beside her.

    Mark took a seat.

    Badaira was chatting with some other students, but she looked up when Mark sat down. She checked her watch, then told everyone sitting down, ¡°5 minutes to start. Begin breathing exercises now.¡± And then Badaira began to breathe deeply, like she was showing the club how.

    Everyone sat up straight, while some stood, and then they began breathing deeply¡ª

    Mark felt a snap of Union in the air, like a weight upon the world that tried to draw him in and make him a part of it¡ª

    Lola told Mark, ¡°You can let it happen.¡±

    Mark started breathing in Union with everyone else.

    Lola was doing it, too, but she was also talking, ¡°You and I will be talking to each other throughout the whole club, as this is sort of a private lesson, but not quite. Ask questions when you can ¡ªlearning how to talk while breathing Union is an important lesson, too¡ª and let¡¯s try not to interrupt everyone else¡¯s Union work too much.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    ¡°The club always starts this way to establish a baseline. You¡¯ve felt the gathering of Union when Badger calls you all to order, right? The gathering we¡¯re working on right now is meant to ping off of that call, to connect the gathering Union here to the Union they wish to establish on the arena floor.

    ¡°That is how you start the big workings.

    ¡°You start with the personal power, build momentum, and then latch on to a big signal, like Badger¡¯s gong, that goes out to a set of people, or that the people establish themselves. If the Union gathering here cannot grab onto the gathering down there well enough, then Badaira signals Badger and Badger might make everyone on the field call out some specific names, or whatnot, to establish the ¡®groove¡¯, as some have called it.¡±

    Ah, Mark thought. Like at the start, when Badger had us repeat the names of the instructors.

    Mark asked, ¡°With fewer people¡ª¡± His breathing Union broke instantly. ¡°Is there¡ª Mmm.¡± He couldn¡¯t get the Union back together while he spoke, so he tried to be quick about his question. ¡°With fewer people is there less need for that unified dance in the larger population?¡±

    Lola waited on Mark, and then she answered, ¡°Correct. Looks like there might only be 70 people down there today, and there¡¯s 23 up here. That¡¯s a good ratio, actually. 1 Union to 3 other people means that we will have no trouble going off of the Badger¡¯s gong. There will be no need for a unified dance¡­¡± Lola grinned. She asked, ¡°Are you signed up for any dance classes yet?¡±

    Lola seemed to find it delightful that Mark had called Union a dance in his email, and also just now.

    ¡°Not yet, but I looked at them,¡± Mark said. ¡°I¡¯ve noticed the flow of battle is easy enough to get into, and from there it kinda just¡­ flowed. You know? A step here, a circling there. It¡¯s all enough to grab onto someone with Union.¡±

    Lola smiled a little. ¡° ¡®Grab onto¡¯ is a bit of a loaded language, and shows that you are more suited to offensive capability with this magic, but we knew that already. Usually people say ¡®join with¡¯. To say ¡®grab onto¡¯ implies an offensive act, so don¡¯t use that phrase around people who don¡¯t know you.¡±

    Mark glanced at the other people in club, some of them looking at Mark weirdly. They rapidly looked away. Mark felt a flush of red on his face. ¡°Er¡­ Did not know that.¡±

    ¡°And that is why I am here teaching,¡± Lola said, ¡°Anyway. For you, you can use anything that another person or life form shares in common with you. That is the true basis of Union, as Freyala envisioned and used the Talent. To form a Union is to consecrate a common ground and build something upon that space.¡±

    Mark nodded. He knew that, but not in those specific words. It was a bit enlightening to hear it like that, though. It was sort of like someone explaining to you a concept that you knew, but which you just didn¡¯t have the words for. Mark breathed deep, in contemplation, and with everyone else breathing deep, too.

    He grinned.

    Lola said, ¡°Now here is where we add some new thoughts to your repertoire. You have the ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯ duality, along with ¡®durability¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯. Personally, I place this addition into the ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯ part of the scenario, but you might want to do differently.

    ¡°Tell me: Have you ever wondered why you never took water breaks or bathroom breaks out there on the arena floor?¡±

    Mark blinked.

    It was like someone telling you that the oven had been on for an entire week, but nothing burned down, so, in the end, was any damage actually done?

    Yes. There was damage.

    Mark¡¯s psyche rebelled.

    ¡°What! No way. I would have... noticed¡­¡± Mark quietly said, ¡°I never noticed.¡±

    Some other healers chuckled.

    Badaira hushed them, and then made a big show of breathing more¡ª

    Mark suddenly said, ¡°I don¡¯t have to go to the bathroom anymore?!¡±

    Everyone else was professional enough not to laugh. Lola professionally chuckled.

    Mark had another thought. ¡°Oh gods. I could make an enemy piss themselves.¡±

    The Union broke as a lot of people laughed.

    Badaira even grinned and then she rallied people to rejoin, and she might have even used that laughter as a joining mechanism; Mark wasn¡¯t sure. He was still wondering if he could make someone piss themselves. It boggled!

    Lola smiled, barely able to contain her mirth, but she adopted a strong countenance and with a deeply serious, sarcastic tone, she said, ¡°This is a dark power you tamper with, Mark Careed.¡± She lightly added, ¡°Also, it¡¯s not nearly as effective of a weapon as you might suspect.¡±

    Mark almost laughed at that one¡ª

    And then Lola added, ¡°You can evaporate the water in someone¡¯s body, though. That is a much better way to use this power.¡±

    Seriousness returned to the conversation.

    Mark said, ¡°No thank you.¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°Even so, it is good to bring up these subjects, because the maintenance of a crew is important. The words we use to sustain and maintain a crew while on missions are ¡®sustenance/starvation¡¯, and ¡®purity/impurity¡¯. These two uses of Union have deep nuances and side effects. Most of the time, you can just get away with using the good/bad dichotomy, but sometimes you need to do more, and this is how you do that.

    ¡° ¡®Sustenance¡¯ and ¡®starvation¡¯ can take from an environment and blight the land, or take from an enemy and weaken them deeply. It can also take from yourself, and give to others. These are all rather slow-acting things, though. If you ¡ªpersonally you¡ª eat well and drink water, then you can provide sustenance to a group such as all of the people down there on the arena without blighting the land. That is why the Healing Club has that snack bar downstairs. We¡¯re all literally eating and drinking for all the other people down there.

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    ¡°In a forest, you can just take from the land around you just fine; there¡¯s lots of life there, and the blight you put out in the world is easily healed if you stretch it out thin enough. There¡¯s no forest in this stone garden, though, so we have to use the snack bar downstairs.

    ¡°Against an enemy, in a protracted combat, you being well fed and them running on fumes is a good way to improve your chances of winning, but it won¡¯t save your life or damn the enemy in a single 10 minute exchange. Now several 10-minute exchanges? A day of fighting? Then that is when this aspect of Union will show its power. That is how you keep an army fed and watered even in the worst parts of Daihoon or Earth.

    ¡°This is why Freyalan acolytes and otherwise are the ones that go out with teams to heal and fight outside of cities, while Hearthswell stays inside the cities, by the way. We are good at roaming battles. Hearthswell is much, much better at other aspects of healing and battlement fortifications.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    Lola continued, ¡° ¡®Purity¡¯ makes your body without waste and clean. It is what I use to clean up my outfits, and otherwise. The environment absolutely loves ¡®impurity¡¯, too. All sorts of messes. Messes are lovely for a forest, and easily go into all parts of a forest, or any natural system with life in it, really. You only need to run purity/impurity every so often, though; not a full time thing at all. It¡¯s good for cleaning up toxins and otherwise, and if you want, you can even use it to draw out metals from the ground, or from other places.¡±

    Oh! That was how Lola had made Mark breathe out the adamantium from his bones!

    Lola was aware that Mark being able to grow adamantium was a secret, though, so she added, ¡°Once your adamantiumkinesis gets to a level where you can detect the stuff in the ground, then you¡¯ll be able to easily find more, and grow your stocks, and you can even use Union to draw it out.

    ¡°In all of those cases, you feel the pulse of Union in the give and take; you can¡¯t just give, you can¡¯t just take, you have to do both. Otherwise the Union becomes unbalanced and you risk saturating your astral body, blocking you from doing more Union work. Wherever you give and take changes the world as you desire.¡±

    Mark nodded; that particular lesson was a repeated one, but repetition was the mother of learning.

    Lola looked to Mark. ¡°We¡¯ll just be breathing right now. Leave your blood-Union to another day. I imagine Grand Healer Badaira will direct us in specific ways, though. It is almost time.¡±

    Mark looked over to Badaira and she was still breathing deeply, but she glanced his way.

    Badaira nodded, and then said to the group, ¡°Hands up if you ended Friday on healing.¡±

    Hands went up, but not all.

    Badaira pointed out people, saying, ¡°Jessie, Tommy, Laura, Adrienne, Wilbur, Floyd, Nathan. You all stay healing. Everyone else switch to protection. All people who were on protection at the end of Friday switch to healing. Mark, you¡¯re on protection. I¡¯ll switch some people around as necessary later. Now we wait for the gong, and then we connect.¡±

    Nods all around.

    By Mark¡¯s rough estimate the number of people on healing or protection were roughly the same. Maybe more people were healing than protecting, but that was fine, right?

    Lola asked Mark, ¡°What do you consider when you think of ¡®durability¡¯?¡±

    Mark rapidly rattled off, ¡°Toughness of body that is more than skin deep.¡± His breathing Union broke, but he kept talking, ¡°An inability to be damaged. A resilience that is bending instead of breaking.¡±

    ¡°Do you consider the damage from the sun, or the damage from the clothes you wear, like a shoe that doesn¡¯t fit right? How about the glare of a bright light? Can you stare into the sun while you are protecting yourself?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I had not considered that.¡± Mark breathed deep ¡®durability¡¯ and the light of the sun was still there, but now it was easier to handle. The light wasn¡¯t any dimmer at all, though¡ª A different problem suddenly occurred. ¡°Wait. If we¡¯re all breathing in durability and exhaling weakness, then the entire group of people out there will only be getting protection during half of the breathing; the intake?¡±

    Lola smiled softly. ¡°Once the battle starts we¡¯ll all start staggering our breaths, because a staggering is just a different type of Union; a Union that is spread out.¡±

    Mark¡¯s mind felt expanded yet again. ¡°¡­ You can do that?¡±

    ¡°In a group, yes. Individually? No. It is one of the great benefits to having multiple Union users in the same group together, and one of the main differences between individual and group use.¡± Lola put her finger to her mouth in a quiet gesture¡ª

    A gong rang out across the field. Mark hadn¡¯t even seen Badger get to his spot in front of the instructor booth, but there he was.

    Every single person on the field, and in the stands, jerked to attention.

    That''s what really did it. That jerk.

    Mark felt the Union of their group reach for the people down on the field, and connect. Mark breathed in durability, and expelled weakness, twisting the miasma coming out of his mouth into the air, like sewing into an invisible quilt. The miasma vanished into elsewhere.

    Badaira brought the group to further attention, saying, ¡°I will begin the staggering, linking to you and moving you through the motions.¡±

    And that is exactly what she did.

    It was weird.

    Badaira sort of¡­ extended the groove in the world? Or something like that? She breathed a little out of sync with the group and people began falling into those new grooves one at a time, and then, within a minute, the entire group was staggered.

    It was like a single harmony of voices becoming a song instead; a chord progression. Or some other word that Mark didn¡¯t know. He wasn¡¯t too much into music. He just felt the change in the air as unifications became something more¡­ woven. Less singular.

    One person passed off a magic to another, which passed off the magic to the next person, which came back to the first person, and now the entire group was breathing in ¡®good¡¯ and exhaling ¡®bad¡¯ at the same time that they were inhaling ¡®durability¡¯ and exhaling ¡®weakness¡¯.

    ¡­ It was almost like what Mark did when he was using blood and breath Union at the same time. They were not in sync with each other, for how could heartbeats and breaths ever be unified except¡­ through the medium of the body. Huh.

    ¡­ Huh.

    Everyone here seemed to know how to thread their miasma into the astral, too; nothing stunk like death. That was nice¡ª

    Oh.

    They all knew how to breathe out the ¡®weakness¡¯ of a stressed astral body, too, didn¡¯t they? They could keep going forever, too, if they wanted, and as Mark breathed out weakness, he did his part to make sure even the healers, who were not focused on keeping their astral body together, were able to maintain just fine.

    Mark smiled at that.

    He had thought he was being smart with that ¡®discovery¡¯ of his, but everyone had already figured out what he had thought was neat and cool and not-done-yet. Welp! That¡¯s what the club here was for; for teaching.

    And Mark was learning.

    Lola smiled. ¡°Very good, Mark. Now all you have to do is keep that up for 2 hours.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I can do¡ª¡±

    He fell out of the Union.

    He focused, and got back into the Union, his breath matching the rhythm of the group that was stretched thin across the entire arena floor. All of the other healers were already talking amongst themselves, though Mark only now realized that they were talking only on their exhales¡­ Or something. He looked at the others, trying to understand what he was seeing.

    Lola said, ¡°It takes some doing to get the hang of talking and breathing at the same time, but there is a trick. The trick is to view it all as communication, as a Union created through words, which are actions upon the world that link us all together, just as the people on the field are linked together through actions which are still just physical in nature. It¡¯s all a Union.¡±

    ¡­ Huh.

    Mark felt himself connect to Lola, to the air, to the world and to each other healer in the club who overheard him, as he said, ¡°It¡¯s like breathing but different.¡±

    He was able to keep his Union going, even though he spoke.

    Lola said, ¡°Here¡¯s a big secret to Union, Mark. You are the locus of a creation of your own making. Just by existing at all, you are a part of the world, and the world is a part of you.¡± She smiled a little. ¡°As soon as you understand that, having Union active at all points in time will be as easy as breathing.¡±

    In that moment, Mark felt connected.

    His heart beat in rhythm to everyone else there on that bench, and also to everyone else down on the field. They didn¡¯t beat at the same time, and some, like that Ulrich guy with Weird Body, didn¡¯t beat at all. But they were there. They were participating in the creation of a fighting force, to drive back the monsters and to save the world, each in small, individual ways, that would become large ways when taken in aggregate.

    It was magical.

    Mark blinked, and he saw threads.

    Threads connected everyone to the world, to each other. As the S rank speedsters pummeled their opponents from ten directions almost all at once, their hearts beating fast, the S rank brutes held their own, those small punches doing nothing, their hearts beating slow and steady. They were not connected in heartbeats, but they were connected in the spar. They were connected in the ultimate, nebulous goal, of helping each other, and also the world.

    The instructors helped, too. Speedster Instructor Nifty separated some people who got too heated before they actually injured each other. Charms evaluated from her tablet and from her own breath, for she was in a Union right now, too, and so were Badger and Medley, who all had Freyala-gifted Union as well.

    And the healers healed, and protected. Instructor Badaira was a dancer of intent across the web, shoring up thin spots in the group, her breath like a wind of creation and stabilization in those areas.

    Mark saw light in the corners of his eyes.

    Threads of light came from him, from his astral body, from the black veins that pulsed under and out of his skin. It was weird to see those threads in the air, in his skin. How far was he stretched right now?

    Were all those threads in the air, him?

    ¡­ Not exactly; but also not ¡®no¡¯.

    Mark saw it now. Those threads were him, but they were not the whole story. He was just one threading. One bit of light in the air that wasn¡¯t light at all. It was his astral body, stretched thin. The healers on the benches were other colors among the world, but Mark couldn¡¯t see them that well.

    He felt them.

    Astral bodies touching astral bodies.

    Mark felt the world.

    The underlying strength of it all.

    He was a thread, and the world was an ocean of threads, crisscrossing and weaving, knotting and tangling, breaking and coming together, splitting and joining and¡ª

    Darkness closed in from the edges of the world, and Mark¡¯s heart thumped hard, weak¡ª

    Mark pulled back, gasping, throwing himself out of the Union, leaning back and sweating hard. Sweat poured off of him as he struggled to understand where he was and what he was doing. His eyes worked. His heart and lungs worked. But he felt too connected. Where was he? Was he on the bench? Was he on the sands? Was he standing or laying dow¡ª

    Something crinkled.

    Mark snapped back to himself like rubber bands breaking.

    And then there he was again, in his body, fully. He breathed. He was sitting down but he threatened to fall over, so Lola¡¯s hand was on his back, holding him upright. She was staring into his eyes. She was saying something.

    Mark blinked a few times, and then Lola started to make sense again.

    Lola¡¯s worried face faded. She spoke softly, ¡°There you are, Mark. You had a little trip, but you¡¯re back.¡±

    Mark looked around and saw people staring at him, but also Badaira snapping her fingers at the others and redirecting them back to the Union. He couldn¡¯t actually see the Union, though; whatever vision he had encountered was over. But he knew that the Union was still there, in the air. The world was still threaded all throughout.

    Mark looked back to Lola. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°A revelation of the world.¡±

    Mark breathed in, then out, and said, ¡°Okay.¡±

    Lola grinned. ¡°In a smaller, just-as-true way, you stretched your astral body further than you should have, focusing on connections that I cannot perceive, but which I have been enlightened to by Freyala Herself. I still have lessons for you that are not whatever you just did, but what you just did will get easier with time, and with astral body strength. If you do that without supervision you¡¯ll probably faint, though, so try to take it easier with that.¡±

    Mark took that in, and said, ¡°Okay!¡±

    Lola chuckled. With an easy countenance, she said, ¡°Get back to it, Mark. You¡¯re on protection detail.¡±

    Mark focused on Union again and he started breathing with purpose, falling into sync among the broken-with-purpose rhythm of the group.

    And then he just experienced it all for a while.

    Some of the healers spoke with each other. Some watched the fights. Some were studiously focused on their connections to the people on the field. Some tapped away at their tablets, reading or playing games. Not a single one of them, and probably not Mark either, could weave the tapestry that held together everyone on the arena floor and on the stands. But they could all contribute a little part.

    Mark¡¯s part was breathing in durability and breathing out weakness, and focusing on the group. To an outside observer, it might appear that he was doing nothing at all.

    But really, he was his own center of a vast, connected network that brought people together and made them whole and strong.

    Eventually, Mark managed to fully understand how to speak while running Union. It was a tricky thing, but he figured it out. It was sort of like, when throwing a punch, you could just throw the punch, or you could put your whole body into it, and then you still delivered a lot of punching power even if your fist wasn¡¯t the strongest. Mark focused on his Union, on durability and weakness, and managed to say, ¡°It really is like just becoming a beating heart that enables exchanges between a vast area.¡±

    He ¡®overshot the punch¡¯ through pure Union power, and thus, when he destabilized his own ¡®punch¡¯, his ¡®punch¡¯ was still solid enough to work¡­ well enough.

    Lola corrected, ¡°You are the center of a web of exchanges that you desire.¡±

    Mark corrected himself, ¡°Exchanges I desire, yes.¡±

    Lola said, ¡°I¡¯ve always imagined it as helping hands reaching out to each other, through the wind. Some have imagined it as roots in a system. I think you spoke about that once.¡±

    ¡°I did. I learned about that from one of my elementary teachers. It always seemed neat that plants help each other with nutrients sometimes.¡±

    ¡°That ideology ties in well to blood Union¡­¡±

    Lola spoke of nuances of Union and Mark focused his Union this way and that, at her instruction, for the next hour. Most of those nuances were repeated lessons. Protection was a pretty easy type of magic to focus on. Making sure people didn¡¯t take damage was pretty simple, though Lola had a lot of case types with regard to protection that Mark hadn¡¯t thought about before.

    ¡°The damage of the sun was just one source you didn¡¯t consider, but there are others. Fire is a usual thing to protect against, and instead of considering a specific protection against that, you must instead expand your definition of durability, like you did with the damage of the sun. What does fire do? It changes the energy state of a system in a way that damages a system. So if you make ¡®durability¡¯ include the idea that the system cannot be changed in energetic ways against your will, then you will have guarded from fire, and also cold and also electricity. Similarly, you can exhale weakness, and consider that being vulnerable to energy-changing powers as a weakness that must be purged.

    ¡°That¡¯s just being defensive with it, though.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to be offensive with it, and give weaknesses to energy state changes to an enemy. This goes alongside the ideas of buffing and debuffing the 6 categories of Body, Kinetic, etcetera, and weakening an enemy in those sorts of ways¡­¡±

    Mark adjusted his thinking a few different times.

    A problem arose.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can hold all of those specific ideas of what ¡®durability¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯ means all at the same time. How do I fix that? With time and practice?¡±

    ¡°Time and practice will help, but truthfully this is an impossible fix on your own. You need to have some Mind-enhancing magics cast upon you by a Minder, and then you can do everything at the same time. For most of your career, you will need to prioritize and change up how you work your protections...¡±

    Eventually, Grand Healer Badaira switched the entire chorus of healers over to from healing to protection, or from protection to healing.

    Mark switched from protection to healing detail.

    Lola spoke of healing, ¡°In with the good, out with the bad; this is truly the best way to heal the body. This is because, for the most part, the body knows how to heal itself. In the few cases where you encounter cancer, or malignant issues of other kinds, you can work in purity ideology. Perhaps you might even work in some sustenance/deprivation to help provide nutrients to the body, as well.

    ¡°But you, specifically you, with your Healthy Body, and all brawnies like you, will find basic healing methodology exceedingly useful. This is because your Body Talent is specifically useful toward making you healthy, and you can share that healthiness with other people, even if their own bodies aren¡¯t able to support them, as-is, for genetic or whatever reasons.

    ¡°The only reason you should ever go beyond good/bad methodology is after medical school, where you can learn more direct ways to heal the body. That¡¯s 4 years of schooling at the least, or more likely 8.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Not doing medical school.¡± He asked, ¡°But surely there are ways to heal the body better than just good or bad. Are there no specific ideas?¡±

    Lola shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t go too far down that path, Mark. Once you are stronger, you will kill people if you push that methodology far at all. Instead, what is better and what people usually do, is that you might find that your basic healing is overkill. You might consider the ideas of half-healing/half-protection, in the dichotomy of ¡®resilience¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯, as we spoke about earlier, because with that sort of ideology, you can start to include ideas from protection, like buffing/debuffing the 6 categories¡­¡±

    Lola spoke of previous lessons, tying many different threads together into half-and-half healing/protection.

    Mark tried to ignore that part about how ¡®he would kill people if he tried specific healings¡¯.

    That was a weapon he hoped to never need to wield.

 061

    The dragon spread his building-sized wings wide into the clouds as he flew. The sun soaked into the silver scales of his long body and mist cooled him down. He waved his tail through the air, flicking at cloudbanks, the wind flowing over him like an ocean. At the speeds he flew, the air pressure almost felt like water. He shook his neck, stretching out, sending a ripple down his body as he beat his wings and ascended higher in the clouds. Spikes of adamantium rippled down his spine in the wind, ripping at clouds, gonging as they struck each other.

    It was a nice sound.

    It was the sound of power. Of wealth.

    Sloane Addashield had never had this much adamantium before.

    He still didn¡¯t, not really.

    ¡­ It was weird being a dragon.

    Sloane had always heard it was a loss of self. A destruction of the individual. And it was. The Addashield of today was not the Addashield of last year. But Sloane had often considered the day he would have to abandon his humanity and accept dragonhood, and what it might mean for him. He never considered it in the open, of course. Becoming a dragon was a far-off possibility that he never let Kanda know about at all, and that he hoped he never had to use, because it was a death, of a sort.

    Kanda was gone, though. Truly gone. But some of her mannerisms were still here. The call to be praised remained, and that was fine. The dragon was a lot more vain than Addashield used to be. Addashield liked nice things, yes, but he would have been aghast at carrying around a world¡¯s worth of adamantium on his back. It was like wearing a target on one¡¯s back, and also showing off too much, and it was so dangerous, but also, it was all under the dragon¡¯s control, and more adamantium grew all the time.

    Addashield would have been giddy with joy¡­

    And the dragon was too. Hmm.

    The dragon was not his father, and yet, he had an entire lifetime of his father¡¯s memories.

    But the desires were all different¡­ sort of.

    That¡¯s what truly let the dragon know that he was not Addashield.

    Yes, the dragon wanted to help humanity, just like Addashield. But Addashield became a Hero of Humanity because he could, and out of a horrific sense of guilt, and a true desire to help humanity.

    The dragon had no guilt, but he did have that true desire. What, after all, was there to be guilty of? A few thousands dead, but the world saved for a generation? Maybe a lot more than that? That was an acceptable loss that any rightly-minded person would have accepted in a heartbeat.

    ¡­ Addashield would have considered the past in exactly that way, too, though.

    So was he Addashield, or not?

    Looking back on ¡®his father¡¯s¡¯ life, the dragon thought the man flawed, but decent. A good man. A Hero of Humanity. That¡¯s what the dragon wanted to be, too. Addashield had burned all his connections to both worlds, though. This was both a blessing, and a curse. If there had been someone still alive, like Yunthal Brightwind, then the dragon would have gone to that person, in particular, and tried to establish himself through them. Would ¡®dad¡¯ have liked that?

    No. That was dad¡¯s life.

    ¡­ Or was the dragon his own dad?

    The dragon wasn¡¯t sure.

    The dragon sighed as he flew, thinking about how to connect to the world.

    Daihoon was right out. That was dad¡¯s world.

    Earth was a better option. There was that Hero/Villain Program thing. The dragon could be a good hero through there¡­

    Honestly, the biggest indicator that the dragon was a new person was his outlook on life. He wasn¡¯t concerned about politics, or kaiju, or even other dragons. He just wanted to have an easy life, and he wanted a real connection to humanity. The easy life was practically guaranteed, because he was a High Dragon, and he had enough adamantium to shred absolutely anything.

    The connection to humanity was harder to source.

    That was probably why he had spoken of that guy, Mark, to reporters, and claimed him as a brother. It humanized the dragon, even though he remained firmly a building-sized dragon. The dragon hadn¡¯t even intended that while claiming Mark as a brother, though¡­ But Addashield had.

    Seemed like the dragon still had Addashield¡¯s instincts to talk obliquely to reporters, and to accomplish many things at the same time.

    But the dragon just wanted a family to connect him to the world, right?

    And yet, he knew he was not going to get that from Mark. The guy probably hated him, and he had every right to hate the dragon.

    Honestly, the dragon was kinda furious at Kanda for making Addashield kill Mark¡¯s parents. Mark ended up a tri-Talent, with the full Union Talent, and also Adamantiumkinesis. Healthy Body wasn¡¯t anything too special to note, but it existed, and therefore Mark was a tri-Talent, and there were synergies everywhere with that Power. Mark was going to go far and probably live for a while.

    Therefore, Mark was a good person to know. To be connected to.

    ¡­ Eh!

    That was enough thought spent on a guy who ultimately was beneath the dragon¡¯s concern.

    If Mark rose high enough to be of note, then maybe they¡¯d speak again some day.

    ¡­ Maybe Mark would even try to kill him. That¡¯d be cute. Ultimately impossible, though. The dragon would need to instruct Mark how to fight better, if that should happen. That¡¯s what big brothers were for, after all.

    ¡­ Huh.

    The dragon grinned.

    Maybe it was useful to think of ¡®that other person who was born at the same time as him, from the same parents/situation¡¯. They had a word for that sort of thing, over on Daihoon; Talzarki. The rough translation to English was ¡®Happenstance Sibling¡¯. ¡®Battle brothers¡¯ or ¡®war companions¡¯ didn¡¯t quite hit the same idea. A talzarki was more like a person who survived the same kaiju attack which leveled a city, and then they met each other and built and survived and thrived in their new, destroyed world. Sloane Addashield had been talzarki with Yunthal Brightwind. Addashield had a real family, of course, but that was 300 years ago and Addashield kinda just stopped caring about his technical-offspring when some disasters killed everyone from the main line. Brightwind was the only one who went on to make a true family, that he overlooked for hundreds of years and with great care. Addashield had always been closer to Brightwind¡¯s family than he was to his own great, great, great...

    ¡­ Huh.

    Now there was a thought.

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    Maybe the dragon couldn¡¯t make a human family, but Mark could.

    The dragon could be a great uncle! A family protector!

    And that would show humans that he could be trusted, because of course he could be trusted.

    And if people didn¡¯t want to accept him into a city somewhere, then he could make his own city. Dragons always did that back on Daihoon, before Earth came into the picture and threw the dragons off. Addashield was a big part of that overthrowing, but even he had ¡®allies¡¯ among the dragons. People still needed grand protections from the bigger threats out there, and there was always a bigger threat out there, and the dragons only demanded farm loads of fresh food and tribute and stuff like that. Or at least the decent ones did. The political dragons were the actually dangerous ones, and it was only ever good to have a few of those around¡­

    The dragon was a political dragon, wasn¡¯t he?

    The dragon grinned.

    Maybe his future people could farm cows and he could bring rain! And they could build their little houses and maybe a castle or two for the dragon and he could make rivers and¡ª And so much! Oh! This was a fun idea¡ª

    Oh. There¡¯s a kaiju down there.

    It was a mutated crab-type and it was chasing a boat-like thing. If the crab-part wasn¡¯t enough of a reason to kill it ¡ªfor those tasted amazing¡ª the dragon could also get some credit for saving the humans!

    Win/win.

    The dragon dropped out of the sky like a divine hammer, crashing into the kaiju in the ocean, crunching it with ten thousand tons of adamantium spikes, mincing it to make sure it was dead. With his spikes lodged in the beast, the dragon hovered above the beast, observing its corpse. It was going to be delicious, for sure. The whole encounter took less than 30 seconds and the beast tried to fight back with high-pressure water jets, shot out of barnacle beasts that grew on the kaiju. It was a pretty standard big-kaiju/small-supporter monster configuration, and all pieces of that ecosystem were now very dead.

    The dragon cast a gaze at the people the kaiju was chasing.

    It was a transit hover-type vessel that was smoking a bit, so they probably had needed to land due to emergencies, or whatever. Maybe a long range water bolt from the now-dead kaiju barnacles had gotten it? Yes. That was it. It looked like something had clipped the front end.

    They were screaming even more now that the dragon was here, hovering with wings spread wide, letting them gaze upon his magnificence. Why were they screaming so much?

    The dragon huffed and told them, ¡°What! I killed the monster! You¡¯re safe now, except I think your ship is still sinking. Want a ride somewhere close?¡±

    The screaming stopped. They whispered about ¡®That¡¯s Addashield¡¯s Dragon!¡¯ and ¡®Oh FUCK!¡¯.

    The dragon tried not to smirk¡ª

    Someone stepped out and said, ¡°Go away, dragon! We don¡¯t want you here!¡±

    The dragon scoffed.

    The people with that rude person rapidly beat that person and then apologized to the dragon, but the dragon just huffed.

    ¡°Most dragons would kill you for that. I should know; I killed enough of those bastards over the centuries¡­¡± Or Sloane had? Hmm. ¡°Or maybe dad did. Whatever! I can take you somewhere. I think I passed Argentina back there.¡±

    ¡°We thank you for your kindness and could not think to trespass upon the rescue you have already given us. In an hour, we¡¯ll be back up and flying!¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! I¡¯ll take you to Argentina.¡±

    The dragon would hear no more objections. With a bit of an adamantium shell, he grabbed the ship and protected the people from the strong wind as he flew them back to Argentina. He found a city easily enough, the city wall rising on the horizon¡­

    And there were explosions?

    Oh! It seemed the city was experiencing a monster wave! Looked like malformations; dog-type. Maybe more like a giant tiger-type, actually. Either way, the turrets on the walls were mowing down the monsters and some heroes on the wall were doing their best.

    They¡¯d win the fight; the dragon easily saw that.

    But the dragon wanted to help.

    Turning his spikes into a blender of metal, into a minor hurricane of death, the dragon wiped out hundreds of tiger-things within minutes. It was so easy as a dragon to cover tens of kilometers with adamantium death, and then sweep a hundred kilometer-wide wave into broken, dead mush. When that was over the dragon set down his cargo of a rescued vessel just a kilometer outside of the city, pulling his adamantium shell away and putting it back on his back, in the shape of spikes.

    Everyone was completely unharmed, but now the wall turrets were shooting him, which kinda stung. That was why he had set the cargo so far away; so they wouldn¡¯t be caught in the friendly fire.

    The dragon shielded himself with adamantium as he approached the city again. He raised his voice, ¡°I found some people in the water, running from a kaiju! I set them down over there! Good luck to you all.¡±

    He flew away, away from the shooting turrets, back to the crab kaiju.

    Crab kaiju was absolutely delicious.

    After the meal, the dragon found some more problems to solve.

    Problems were just so much easier to fix when you were a dragon.

    Addashield should have become a dragon a century ago, but then, of course, Kanda would have fucked it up if he had ever made actual plans in that direction...

    Hmm.

    The dragon was still unsure if he was Addashield, or not.

    The dragon, unnamed as of yet, wondered if it was time to pick a new name and move on, or pick ¡®Addashield¡¯ and go back as much as he could.

    ¡­ Sons often took their father¡¯s names, right?

    Hmm.

    Brightwind¡¯s demon, which had been sister to Addashield¡¯s demon Kanda, was named Adank.

    ¡®Mark¡¯ became Karm?

    ¡­ No, it would be Kram?

    The dragon chortled.

    No.

    He was not a ¡®Kram¡¯, thank you very much.

    - - - -

    Mark sneezed.

    ¡°¡­ Huh.¡± Lola raised an eyebrow at Mark, then she asked, ¡°Was that a normal sneeze, or a miasma sneeze?¡±

    ¡°¡­ A normal sneeze? I don¡¯t smell any miasma?¡±

    It was the end of the first week of Healing Club. Mark¡¯s training mission was next week, though he had hung out with Eliot and Isoko twice again. He had decided to spend next week up here on the stands of the arena, and not move on to the smaller, more intense brawny sparring courses, because stressing Union in these wide scale applications was doing wonders for his astral body growth.

    He had checked out his gains in the scanner just this morning.

    Body, Healthy Body: 020

    Shaper, Adamantium: 019

    Mind: 16

    Natural, Union: 029

    Soul: 18

    Arch: 13

    Almost tier 3 in Union! And he had reached tier 2 in Healthy Body.

    Healthy Body was supposed to cap out at 25, but Lola already thought that Mark would go higher than that, but she couldn¡¯t tell him how high.

    Lola looked at him. ¡°It¡¯s weird for you to sneeze. Usually that¡¯s the sign of an attack, or a miasma problem. Keep that in mind.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how to take that information, because he certainly didn¡¯t feel attacked¡ª ¡°Wait. That means you haven¡¯t sneezed in¡­ in a long time?¡±

    ¡°Correct. I have not. Not unless I was being attacked.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Huh.¡±

    ¡°Just keep it in mind.¡± Lola moved on, saying, ¡°Anyway. Repetition of lessons is always useful. Now is a good time to go back to those cleaning magics, to make yourself pure, so that you aren¡¯t affected by atmospheric or environmental attacks. Mind you, you still will be affected by those, for an area effect attack is always going to be dangerous to you due to the ephemeral nature of Union, but there are ways to make it easier to function in such areas¡­¡±

    Mark listened. He adjusted his breathing and heartbeat accordingly.

    He learned.

 062

    The goblin from Daihoon bled from ten different wounds, red trickling down green skin onto white webs, inside the hive mind spider¡¯s lair.

    Hundreds of its brothers lay broken and dead on the ground. All of them were a little fuzzy and with big eyes and many legs. Some of them were wrapped in silk, the results of the last weeks of probes and failures. Most of them had no weapons at all, the result of the last few days of attack. Some had spears.

    The goblin from Daihoon had a rusted sword, and it had been enough.

    It advanced toward the enemy.

    The hive mind spider, the size of a large room in a small dwelling, was crippled even worse than the goblin. The goblin grabbed at an almost-dead brother and bit his head off. He nibbled on the rib cage. He ate the heart. Within moments, the goblin from Daihoon was healed and walking tall. It raised its sword and advanced.

    The spider was legless. Eyeless. Most of its sharp needle-hair was gone. It had one fang left, but it was using that one to crawl away. Its juicy, juicy body was untouched. No wounds at all on that big white butt. It was fat and white and the goblin leapt onto the big part of it. The hive mind spider chittered in impotent fury. The goblin got a few stinging hairs into his feet for his trouble, but that was no trouble at all.

    His mouth salivated, his transformative power gathering strong.

    He bit into the prey, drawing ichor from the beast. The beast hissed loud, and weakly.

    The goblin leapt away.

    Hidden deep within an old human city of columns, arches, stone, and destroyed homes, the goblin laughed, and he waited. His brothers gathered out of the gloom, to watch the death of the enemy.

    The mind spider¡¯s body eventually stopped moving.

    And then its insides started wriggling.

    - - - -

    ¡°We¡¯re going to my ancestral home!¡± Eliot said, standing outside of Mark¡¯s room.

    Eliot had brown skin, brown hair, and amber eyes, with a wiry body under expensive, yet kinda trashy-looking clothes. He was casual right now.

    Mark was in his boxer shorts.

    Mark blinked out sleep from his eyes and looked past the short man, to the dimmed hallway lights. The sun was not up, and in fact everything was rather dark. Reddish. Citadel was primed for night guard. Mark looked Eliot in his happy face again. Mark tried to be enthusiastic, as he asked, ¡°Sorry? What?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to Rome for the training mission! In 8 hours! The details just came through the wire! I had to fly the drone over and tell you!¡± Eliot chided him, ¡°And why are you in boxers? Why are you asleep this early? It¡¯s only midnight!¡±

    ¡°The real question is ¡®why are you awake?¡¯, because you should be sleeping, too.¡±

    ¡°I sleep enough! And I¡¯m excited! Rome is amazing! Lots of weird monsters. Maybe we can even find and kill that giant hive mind spider!¡±

    Eliot got real enthusiastic sometimes, and normally Mark loved it, but not right now.

    ¡°They told us that we¡¯d be headed out tomorrow and sleep was important, and details would follow. We don¡¯t need to know the details right¡­ Eliot¡­¡± Mark blinked again, eyed some weirdness with Eliot, and then he reached out and touched Eliot¡¯s face. His hand went through the face, disturbing the hologram and flickering broken light into the air. He pulled back and sighed. ¡°You are in bed right now, aren¡¯t you.¡±

    ¡°Yes! But I can¡¯t sleep. Let me in. I want to talk about Rome!¡±

    ¡°If I let you in you¡¯ll talk for hours¡­¡± Mark smiled sleepily. ¡°No. I¡¯ll see you in 4 hours, Eliot.¡± He closed the do¡ª

    Eliot pleaded, ¡°I want to talk about Rome! And what you¡¯re going to wear for the camera!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°See you later, Eliot!¡±

    Mark shut the door, scratched his abs, and yawned.

    He heard Eliot¡¯s mostly-silent drone fly away outside.

    ¡­ What time was it, anyway? Mark checked his phone. Oh yeah. 1:12 AM.

    ¡®It¡¯s Midnight¡¯, huh, Eliot? Phhsh!

    Mark collapsed back in bed and he hoped that Eliot put down the phone and did the same.

    Hours later, Mark woke up refreshed and excited.

    It was time for a training mission!

    - - - -

    Mark hopped off of the tram near the hover port. Cars and vans took off into the sky, picking up and dropping off people from designated circles on the wide, open ground. A lot of the people wore acolyte white, hugging people goodbye and then flying away, or people in civilian clothes coming into Citadel with a paladin or instructor escort, their eyes looking everywhere that they could. Paladins in silver armor hopped into big hovervans, the large, brick-like vehicles rushing off with their armored force to wherever it was they were needed.

    To the side were assorted buildings; prep areas, mostly. Mark headed that way.

    He checked his phone and navigated past paladins in armor, healers in silver-trimmed robes, and families who had their kids in tow. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what was going on with that last one, because kids needed to stay inside cities, but the parents or whatever probably knew what they were doing.

    Mark found the designated meeting room. Down a hallway, at the end on the right, was a small room that held a long table and some stools in the corner. A projection screen held to the side of the room. It currently showed a projection of a last-taken aerial composite photograph of Rome.

    In the Old World, Rome had been a major metropolitan area, scattered with the ruins of ancient Rome right alongside modern pizza places and whatever.

    In the modern world, almost 80 years after the Reveal and the flooding from Daihoon, and the complete melting of the ice caps of the poles, the ocean had risen something like 23 meters. Or at least those were the agreed-upon numbers according to the Two World History that Mark was studying, now that he was beyond Curtain Protocol. The flood took years to happen so people saw it coming but it still killed a lot of people. Maybe even more than the monsters, according to some sources.

    A lot of people scoffed at that idea.

    The World History books kinda threw their hands up and said that no one really knew final death counts.

    The flood had come through Rome pretty strongly.

    It was a city divided by an ocean. The River Tiber, the river that ran through the city, had become an inland sea more than a real river; the Mediterranean invading the land like fat lightning.

    Rome was uninhabitable now, but people still flocked to it to steal whatever they could, or die trying. It used to be a great place of art and stuff, though Mark didn¡¯t know anything about it, for sure. And so, since Mark was the only one here, he took out his phone and started researching.

    Ten minutes later an exhausted Eliot stood in the doorway, his eyes dark, his voice haggard. ¡°I stayed up too late. Please help.¡±

    Mark smiled, and then he activated Union, the veins of his astral body flickering out from his skin with every beat of his heart, pushing out the bad in vein-like strands of miasma and taking in the good. He linked to Eliot, and soon, Eliot¡¯s haggard demeanor began to shift softer. His eyes brightened, his shoulders unslumped. He smiled and walked into the room and plopped down in a chair across from the projection of Rome, his baggy cargo pants not crunching at all, which, based on how much stuff he kept in there, was still strange that it never made noise.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Mark said, ¡°Welcome back to wakefulness.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°This right here. This is why I want Union the most. No more sleep!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Union is not a substitute for sleep!¡±

    ¡°It could be, but you like sleeping too much. Honestly I do not see the appeal if you can just flow away the bad and breathe in the good. Never have to sleep! Never worry about being tired! No worries about going insane from lack of sleep!¡±

    Isoko stepped into the room, asking, ¡°What¡¯s going on with Eliot making bad decisions again?¡±

    Eliot scoffed. ¡°They just look bad if you don¡¯t know me, but I plan and prep for everything!¡±

    Isoko hummed, believing him, but not really.

    Isoko was pale, strong, and Japanese, with starkly black hair in a layered bob cut and vaguely grey eyes. She wore basic brown clothes, like Mark. She had yet to become an acolyte of Freyala, even after being here for a few months and completing two training missions. This was going to be her third training mission, and Mark kinda wanted to know what Freyala was waiting on. Isoko was almost tier 3, if not already there.

    ¡°Eliot needed to forgo sleep again.¡± Mark linked to Isoko, too, helping her to recover from anything that might be affecting her, but she was fine, like usual. ¡°And he wants to never sleep again, if he could help it.¡±

    Eliot told Mark, ¡°Traitor.¡±

    Isoko sighed and summed up a conversation they had already had, ¡°Everybody needs sleep, that way you can stress your astral body and physical body to your limits when needed and you won¡¯t find your limits to be limited.¡±

    ¡°Blah blah blah~¡± Eliot said, ¡°I was already on mission 8 hours ago.¡± With a dismissive, kingly wave, Eliot said, ¡°You two are just now catching up to me. Therefore, I should be blessed with all the refreshments and no-more-bathrooms-or-showers that I require. And speaking of which! Please, Mark, if you would be so kind.¡±

    Mark chuckled and then pulsed purity/impurity, the black veins under his skin and in the air of his astral body turning much blacker for a few beats of his heart. Isoko relaxed into it, letting her arms shake out, as Eliot put his hands behind his head and grinned, leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. Mark felt a bit cleaner, too, which was just plain nice, and then he went back to drawing in resilience from the world, for all three of them, and expelling their own weakness back out in exchange.

    For the past two weeks, Mark had been working the arena of Brawny Sparring 101, right alongside the rest of the Healer Club. People rotated in and out of Healer Club, their numbers sometimes increasing to 30 or dwindling to 15, while the numbers of people on the arena floor had mostly decreased, with people moving on or doing something else. Some got promoted to acolyte of Freyala, and they got to sit up on the arena stands and practice Union with everyone else.

    Mark¡¯s Union was truly strong, but then again Lola told him that was the case to start with.

    Apparently Mark¡¯s directed healing, with the good/bad dichotomy, was overkill, really, for normal battle.

    So Mark had started to focus on a half-healing/half-protection style that suited him a lot better. The words/feelings of resilience/weakness were great, allowing him to make sure that everyone¡¯s astral bodies kept going strong, and that Mark himself never needed to actually drop Union. So that¡¯s what he did most of the time. It offered repair for the body and a host of smaller benefits, like being able to look directly into the sun and not burn your eyes, or being able to walk (quickly) through flames and be fine.

    And blood never really stopped moving, but it did have periods of faster and slower times, so there was no ¡®turn around time¡¯ between resilience and weakness in his blood Union, like there was in his breath Union. Lola had told Mark that Mark should use breath Union when he wanted to provide a steady stream of ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®bad¡¯, or whatever, and Mark found that to be a great suggestion.

    All of that stuff was nuance that Mark would need to learn his way around, out in the field. That¡¯s what today was for, really. Training missions were for learning about oneself, and monsters.

    Mark asked Eliot, ¡°What did you want to talk to me about Rome last night?¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°What time did he come for you?¡±

    Eliot defended himself, ¡°A scout scouts no matter the time! Informs no matter the situation! And we have the capability to ignore sleep schedules a little bit. Therefore, I did what I needed to do.¡± He looked at both of them, saying, ¡°You both should have started briefing with me last night.¡±

    Isoko asked Mark, ¡°He came at me at 2 AM.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°1:12; I remember the clock saying.¡±

    Eliot scoffed.

    Isoko continued, ¡°So he couldn¡¯t get you, so he went after me, and then I denied him too, and now he tells us that we should just ignore sleep schedules. Obviously he is raising good points about scouting¡ª¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± Mark agreed.

    ¡°¡ªbut what could he really tell us aside from the lay of the land, which is not what we really need to know except to make plans around, and that takes 2 minutes, and should be done on site.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I have no idea about all that. I just knew I needed sleep before a mission. That was my personal prep for the mission.¡±

    Isoko nodded, ¡°And also exactly how we were told to prep. ¡®Sleep well, because you might not sleep well for 4 days¡¯. That, and the location reveal, was the entire prep that we were told to concern ourselves with.¡±

    Eliot defended himself, ¡°I went above and beyond.¡±

    Isoko looked at him and straight-up told him, ¡°If you ever wake me up to talk about how I look on camera out in the field I will be extra mad, Eliot.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll fix you both in post and you¡¯ll be fine with it!¡± Eliot declared. And then he said, ¡°You¡¯re going to have an evil look going on, Mark, with darker eyes and deeper black lines. Isoko is going to be a pretty pretty princess!¡±

    Mark smirked. ¡°Sure.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    Eliot eyed them for a moment, an eyebrow going up. And then he smirked and opened his mouth to say something¡ª

    But Paladin David Turner walked into the room, and Eliot stood at attention. Isoko¡¯s eyes went wide. Mark just grinned. He hadn¡¯t known who was going to be their escort for the training mission, but now that David was here it looked like one of the overseers to Mark¡¯s possible demonic influence was going to be their guide¡­ Hopefully.

    David was wearing his armor, like how Mark had first seen the guy. Blond hair that was a bit reddish, blue eyes that were a bit purple; the guy had daihoonian blood in some sort of way, for sure. His last name was Turner, though, which painted him as one of Freyala¡¯s truly trusted paladins, and in David¡¯s case, Inquisitor. Just like Lola, Mark¡¯s teacher for Union lessons. Neither of them were actually related to Freyala, but the Inquisitors were her most trusted people, so they got her old last name.

    Eliot and Isoko had both been kinda weirded out to see Inquisitors around Mark now and again, but so was everyone, once they knew that Lola, David, and Orissa, were Inquisitors. They were all pretty great people in Mark¡¯s mind, though.

    He still didn¡¯t believe they murdered people who turned to evil. That was probably Mark¡¯s personal failing; he understood that. He just didn¡¯t believe that one person could hurt another in such a way, even though Addashield had¡ª

    Mark didn¡¯t want to think about Addashield right now.

    It was enough to know that Inquisitors only dealt death to those who became enemies of humanity, and no one here qualified for that classification at all; no one was linked to demons in an unapproved way, and no one was talking to monsters, and especially no one was talking to dragons.

    David was personable as he said, ¡°Hello, initiates and ward, Eliot Cybersong, Isoko Kanno, and Mark Careed. I¡¯m Inquisitor Paladin David Turner. You may call me David. You are here for a training mission, in order to prove yourself as capable in the field, and maybe as someone that Freyala would want to patron. You will be in real danger, but I will be there at all points in time in the mission, and I will rescue you if you get too deep into problems. Other than that, I will hang back and let you experience what it¡¯s truly like out there in the wilds.

    ¡°The training mission will be undertaken like a real mission at all points in time. We are off the ground in 2 hours. Usually you get a lot less time than what you have been given. Please keep that in mind for the validity of this training mission.

    ¡°Please direct your attention to the screen,¡± David said, as he tapped at the backside of one of his gauntlets, at a protected phone screen. The image of ruined Rome began to shift and light. Grey areas appeared, and also a blue area, to the left of the inland ocean, in where the middle of the city used to be, right beside a giant crater. ¡°The city of Rome was heavily ruined in the Reveal, due to many different factors that are unimportant to know. I am sure Eliot has stories that he will be speaking of during your mission, if you have much downtime for any of that.

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect much downtime.

    ¡°For your mission, you will be investigating this area here, north of what was once a religious center of the Old World, called the Vatican.

    ¡°A corrupter goblin from Daihoon showed up right there maybe a week ago.¡±

    Mark felt the weight of the mission settle upon him at the naming of the threat. Goblins were a big deal. All goblins could bite something and transform that thing into more goblins, but corrupter goblins had especially potent transformative venom.

    It all came down to a Power Level numbers game. Goblin claws and venom usually failed against anything that was at PL 10 in Body, though PL 20 was considered the minimum to be truly safe against any normal goblin. If a person was weakened by wounds and poison, or anything like that, or if they fell asleep while wounded by a goblin, then they would be influenced by the goblin venom. A lot of monsters and wildlife out were at 10-20 in Body, though, so goblin claws and bites usually couldn¡¯t penetrate skin or hide, and especially not scale. Most healthy monsters could shrug off one goblin bite; even a bite from a corrupter goblin, sometimes.

    Goblins were dinner for most monsters.

    But a corrupter goblin was stronger. Maybe PL 25 or 35 in Body. They would come in and bite monsters and run away, letting their corruption infection transform the bodies of the infected into more goblins.

    Isoko and Eliot stood a little straighter, their eyes a little wider, just like Mark.

    David continued, ¡°Your task is twofold and designed to give you the full goblin experience. The first task is to eliminate all the goblins until you find the corrupter goblin. The second task is to talk to the corrupter goblin and offer them passage back to Daihoon, or to hash out a different agreement where they stay in some sort of reserve, or something. The final shape of that outcome is left up to you.¡±

    Mark almost scoffed as he could not believe what he was hearing.

    And then he realized that David had not been joking.

    Disbelief all around.

 063

    Mark was the first one to voice, ¡°You CANNOT be serious with that ¡®talk to them¡¯ shit!¡±

    Isoko stared at David, letting Mark¡¯s words hang as enough. Eliot did the same.

    David fully expected this, so he easily said, ¡°When you are out there with others of Earth, you might come across those who are unable to understand that monsters are monsters. Therefore, in this training mission, you will be charged with acting on behalf of one of those kinds of people. The purpose of this is to show you exactly what to expect when you come at goblins with talks of peace.¡±

    Isoko scoffed. Eliot frowned.

    Mark said, ¡°Leaving aside the fact that we¡¯re coming at them disingenuously, and therefore they would never believe us anyway¡­ No wait. Let¡¯s start there.¡±

    David said, ¡°That¡¯s a problem with this scenario, yes. The goblins view us as food that they need to be tricky to get though, so they take the bait. You will still try to make inroads at peace.¡±

    Isoko spoke up, ¡°Peace is a literal impossibility. They eat us. They LIKE to eat us.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°They like to infect us and have our bodies turned into incubators for their young. Eating is secondary.¡±

    ¡°Both of you are correct,¡± David said. ¡°You will still make one attempt at peace. You are allowed to offer that area of Rome as the new goblin home. We could even open a hole back to Daihoon to let them through. And then, when they do what they¡¯re going to do, you kill them all. Every single one, to the last. 100% clearance rate.¡± He added, ¡°Consider this a primer on unreasonable requests from your leaders, because that¡¯s also part of the mission; clear the mission, as requested, and then fix the actual problem, as seen on the ground. We expect it to take you about a week. Longer if you scare the goblins into running. Potentially less, if you manage to make them all race at you to see who gets to bite you first.¡±

    Silence spread in the room.

    People spoke outside, walking in the halls. A door opened and shut. Hovercars hummed and thrummed in the near distance, as a door in the hallway opened to the outside for a moment, before shutting again.

    Mark asked, ¡°Do people actually try to talk to goblins?¡±

    Eliot was the one who answered. ¡°All the time. It¡¯s a real problem. Every video online that shows the goblin problem ¡ªthat they see us as food and baby makers¡ª is always met with disbelief among the young and the unknowing. They can¡¯t envision a world where bad things actually happen to good people.¡± Eliot looked at David. ¡°We are killing them, though, right? I¡¯m making an extermination film, yes?¡±

    David nodded once, as he said, ¡°You will do as you will do in a normal mission, and for you, Eliot, that is being a bard, since that is what you want to do. Don¡¯t let it overtake your scouting duties. Isoko is a frontliner, since that is what she wants to do. Mark is the healer/protector, though you can flow around the situation as desired. I imagine Eliot will need to be the most protected, since he is at PL 11, in Body. Isoko is at 30 in Body and a little lesser in everything else. Mark is at 22 in Body, which is enough to survive small injuries. You can expunge a normal goblin infection through a typical resilience/weakness Union, so I¡¯ll let you do that. If the corrupter goblin bites you, then you should consider yourselves dead if I were not there, but I will step in with my own Union and clean up the infection.¡±

    Mark centered himself. Okay. This was the mission.

    He could do this.

    The others had similar body language.

    David nodded, ¡°Now¡­ You all know your powers but we¡¯ll go over them again, as though this was a team you did not know. After that, we¡¯ll go over your supplies for the mission, and that¡¯s enough for now.

    ¡°I¡¯m David. I¡¯m a general speedster rated at times-35 speed, Rank S. Full melee weapon clearance. Frontliner and scout. Tier 9 in Body and the usual spread in the other categories. Freyalan Chosen Union at tier 7, so Natural is at tier 7. I¡¯m qualified in Union of Blood, Breath, and others that don¡¯t need to be spoken about, since Mark is still learning. Mark, you¡¯re up.¡±

    Mark reeled a little bit from hearing ¡®times 35 speedster¡¯. That was a lot.

    The rest of it was what Mark expected of a man at the peak of his power and with a good Talent.

    Tier 9.

    ¡®The usual spread¡¯ for a One Talent (which was the normal amount of Talents), who had reached tier 9, was something like tier 9 in their category, then tier 5 in the categories next to their category, tier 2 or 3 in the other two, and then tier 1 in the category directly opposite their own main category. So, since David was a speedster of some sort, which was a Body Talent, then that meant that he was something like¡­

    095 Body, 50-ish Shaper, 25-ish Mind, 15-ish Natural, 25-ish Soul, and 50-ish Arch, in the hexagonal grid form.

    But since David was in the Chosen System, of specifically Freyala, he had a 75-ish in Natural, which put him artificially at something like:

    095, 50-ish, 25-ish, 75-ish, 25-ish, 50-ish.

    That meant that anything below those levels of astral body strength would have a hard time affecting him, but anything above would still hurt him. There was a lot of nuance to that, with specific materials and the insidiousness of those materials to consider, with Union as an example of something that was ¡®insidious¡¯ if used that way, but generally, a person with a 95 in Body who tried to injure a person who had a 25 in Body would be like a diamond scratching a fingernail.

    Or, more importantly, that fingernail ain¡¯t scratching that diamond at all.

    As a side thought, Mark considered Curtain Protocol, and how most people on Earth Awakened with a brawny, Body Talent. A lot of Earthlings ¡ªa lot of brawnies¡ª went into the Chosen System, too. This was wildly good for a person, because the Chosen System was a way for them to supplement their natural astral body. For David, who was a speedster, becoming a Chosen of Freyala erased his main weakness as a brawny, which was any monster or person of the Naturally-Talented sort.

    Most of the other gods had arisen on Natural Talents, too. Drakarok¡¯s Retribution, Hearthswell¡¯s Castellan, even Verdado¡¯s Farmer.

    Mark was still kinda mad at Curtain Protocol hiding stuff from him, but it was easy to understand why things were hidden once you understand the reasonings, and why the powers-that-be wanted most people to be brawnys. With any normal brawny Talent, and entering into the Chosen System, a guy erased their worst weakness. Of course they had to devote parts of their lives to working for the gods, but they got a ¡®Second Talent¡¯ and the accompanying Astral Body benefits.

    David was really strong then, huh.

    The others raised eyebrows at David, too, but they got professional a lot faster than Mark.

    Mark recovered. He said, ¡°Mark. Healthy Body, an unusable Shaper Talent as of now, which means not this mission, and Union. Tier 2 in Body, Shaper, and Mind. Soul and Arch are tier 1. Union is at tier 3. Blood and Breath Union¡­ And I¡¯m not sure how much further to go with that.¡±

    David said, ¡°Weapon skills, place in the group. Say you don¡¯t have tactile telekinesis yet. They expect brawnies to be TT capable, or not.¡±

    Mark added, ¡°Good with most weapons. Spear is the best. I think I¡¯m healing and protecting. No TT.¡±

    David nodded, said, ¡°Think of a way to shorten that while including all the necessary information.¡± He looked to Isoko.

    Isoko said, ¡°Isoko. Platinum Body. Tier 3 in all categories. Frontliner. Shield and sword. No TT.¡±

    David nodded, then looked to Eliot.

    Eliot said, ¡°Eliot. Man-made Manipulation, high tier 2 Arch, normal spread. 13 in Body. I¡¯ll be using a mana shield to up myself to defensive-20 in every category. Big time scout, trap master, defensive fortifications. Anything you create, I can manipulate. Anything you are around¡­ I might be able to manipulate. Anything the monsters touch degrades out of my manipulation fast. I can gradually influence the environment¡­¡± He paused. He continued, ¡°Ehhh¡­ There¡¯s a lot.¡±

    David nodded. ¡°That¡¯s enough, anyway. I was going to ask you to cut it off. It¡¯s important not to dump too much information onto a team, too fast.

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    ¡°I¡¯m electing a team leader now, and it¡¯s Mark. Healers are team leaders and shot callers. You don¡¯t know how to do it yet, Mark, but you¡¯ll eventually be able to gauge the health of your team, or rather, the depth to which your healing or protections are being taxed, which is usually the result of enemy action. That¡¯s how you gauge your team. But for now, brainstorm how you will enact the given mission, and the true mission, which is always to eliminate all the monsters you see, anywhere.

    ¡°You have the floor, Mark.¡±

    Mark stood straight, thought, then said, ¡°So¡­ Eliot scouts everywhere and builds fallback locations outside of the incursion zone, and¡­ And we¡¯ll go from there?¡± That was not enough, and now Mark was kinda flowing into the question, so he said, ¡°Eliot is familiar with the area so we rely on him to pick a starter location and build defensive with the expectation that the enemy goblins have co-opted some of the local wildlife to goblinhood. Do we have readouts on any scans taken of the areas over the last month? Can we get those?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I have those! Let¡¯s go over them?¡±

    David spoke up, ¡°It¡¯s your job as Scout to have all the information you can and when called upon that information, you need to be succinct, Eliot. No hour long chats about monsters and whatnot unless you have that sort of downtime. If you have an idea for a starter base and monsters that are in the area, then point out three locations, and you should limit it to three best options. Also, I assure you that unless you picked up information this very morning, as of an hour ago, then it¡¯s out of date already. Goblins move fast and reinforce faster, and monsters always move through locations, changing everything.

    ¡°You encountered a hive mind spider a few weeks ago, but you were surprised by that, because monsters move fast and eat faster. You need to scan on location to have any hope of being prepped.

    ¡°However, knowing the previous information is a good start. Don¡¯t give too much information, though; we¡¯re on a mission here, not making a documentary. Keep that stuff for the Bard career, Eliot. That goes for you, too, Mark. More information is better, but too much gets you bogged down from the mission. Also, since this interaction is between you, Mark, as leader, and Eliot as scout, you need to get Isoko¡¯s input as well, after Eliot gives you the initial three locations.¡± David added, ¡°Continue.¡±

    Mark appreciated the quick lesson on how to run a group, he supposed.

    Mark looked at Eliot, and then to the picture on the screen on the wall. ¡°Uh. Projections?¡±

    Eliot was bubbly as he pulled out a drone from one of the pockets of his cargo pants and set it onto the table. With a flicker of Power that Mark could only guess at, the drone unfolded and began to project a holographic image of flooded Rome, on top of the table. Bubbles of color, mostly grey, began to form over this and that part of the holographic projection. There was the blue territory of the goblins, centered on the map, but Eliot¡¯s map also had red, yellow, and green territories, right next to the goblin area, surrounding it.

    Eliot said, ¡°There were some hive mind spiders there last time I was in the area. The goblins cleared them all out, according to the high-powered scans from our satellites. I¡¯d get better information on-location, but this is what I know:

    ¡°The new breed of goblins that spawned from the corrupter goblin are good at blending into the background and coordinated action. The goblins that came out of the corruption of the big mind spider are probably lieutenant class goblins. With any luck, most of them went through the Monster Tutorial and died, but probably not. So we might have 2 corrupter goblins or more. They¡¯re mostly just very smart.

    ¡°They might have gotten a Mind knack, or Power, but hopefully not.

    ¡°They will want to expand. They¡¯re probably going after the other monster areas here, shown in red, green, and yellow, in order to take them over. The reds are a bunch of wyvern-class monsters; a colony of flying lizards about the size of dogs. The yellows are toxic slimes. The greens are poison slimes. The goblins will probably be going after the lizards next, because those are meat and goblins can¡¯t transform slimes very easily, and maybe they can get some flying gobbos out of the wyvern dogs.

    ¡°My suggestion is we set up in the slime areas, but¡­ They do make the air hard to breathe, so¡­ Can you clear the air, Mark?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure he could.

    The blue area was north of something labeled ¡®The Vatican¡¯, while that place was all yellow with toxic slimes, and the space to the northwest of the goblin land was green with poison slimes. The red area was by the waters, which was either a good or bad thing.

    Mark wanted to go after the wyvern fliers because they couldn¡¯t let the goblins get flying goblins.

    David had opinions; Mark could tell.

    Mark asked Isoko, ¡°Thoughts?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°We can¡¯t let the goblins get flying goblins. We need to take over and scatter the flying lizard area, at least. That will allow us to hinder them on all sides. What¡¯s around the lizard area? Aside from backing up against the river/ocean?¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Eliot?¡±

    Eliot smiled, happy he was able to talk about what he had researched, ¡°The river/ocean is filled with fish, some of them flying. We can¡¯t let the gobbos get to the fish, either.¡± Eliot gestured to the holomap and red-ish colors illuminated all along the banks of the river/ocean. ¡°The coasts of the Tiberranean, if you would permit the portmanteau, from the Mediterranean all the way to the inland sea over here, is chock full of wyvern dogs. If we took over this red territory by the goblins, then I am rather sure that we could hold it, but being near open water is always dangerous. Stuff comes out of the ocean all the time. It¡¯s mostly a river here, though, which means it''s a transition, thin sort of space, and we could see most big monsters coming.

    ¡°The inner sea is packed with wyvern dogs that took over that place long ago and kept it under their control. There are actual wyverns in the inner sea, but we won¡¯t be going that way. The smaller ones like to hunt in packs, with most of them being semi-aquatic. They avoid the big predators and hide out around their big cousins, while they work to kill and eat anything that is remotely their own size. So if we clear this red land by the gobbos, we might send the dogs scattering to the other side of the river, and make them not-our-problem anymore.

    ¡°Knowing goblins, as soon as the red territory is clear, and if we make a big shining castle on a hill, then they¡¯ll surely come to us. They¡¯ll want to eat humans most of all, after all. That way, we can let them come to us, to die, and maybe the corrupter goblin will appear, and want to talk!¡± Eliot was excited. ¡°That¡¯ll fulfill our mission, too! It¡¯s brilliant!¡±

    Mark thought about it, and it sounded good. Could Eliot actually make a big defensive structure, though? Something that could survive smart monster attacks? There were other concerns, too.

    Isoko looked concerned, too.

    Mark said, ¡°I am unsure about having a strong central location. Can you really build¡­ something like that, Eliot? Something that can withstand smart attackers?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Absolutely. As long as I have help with the initial construction; Killing plants and monsters in the area, stacking some rocks here and there with me that I can piggyback off of with Man-made Manipulation; that sort of thing. Painting walls is actually really important, too.¡±

    Mark realized something. ¡°We haven¡¯t really gotten to see your Power shine yet, have we?¡±

    Eliot smirked. ¡°No, you have not.¡± And then he got a concerned look on his face and added, ¡°I have a very big weakness to concentrated monster attacks. I cannot hold any location by myself at all.¡±

    Isoko laughed once. ¡°Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ll protect you.¡± And then she asked David, ¡°So what kinda supplies do we get to start?¡±

    Mark and Eliot looked to David.

    David said, ¡°First, Eliot empties all of his pockets, and then changes into some basic brown clothes, and then we all get dropped off into the wilderness with practically nothing.¡±

    Mark paused. Isoko¡¯s expression went blank.

    Eliot scoffed, disbelieving, ¡°You¡¯re not serious.¡±

    David smirked. ¡°I am very serious.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ !¡± Eliot asked, ¡°But how can I record anything without¡­ without anything?!¡±

    David said, ¡°Find some rocks and smash them together to make some silicon and then scrape the oil from your hair for plastic and go from there. Or go a different way. Scavenge. Whittle spears, too.¡±

    Eliot lost all of his words.

    Mark spoke up, ¡°Will you still be able to scout like that, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot took a moment, looking up at the air, at nothing, and then coming back to himself. ¡°I can make it work¡ª I¡¯ll lose hours of footage, though! All of the initial mission!¡±

    Isoko asked David, ¡°No rations? No weapons? Armor? Anything?¡±

    David said to the three of them, ¡°The three of you, together, are strong enough to overcome any sort of problem out in this mission. It will be dangerous. You will be injured. But Eliot can make weapons and fortifications, Mark can support you all with sustenance, wakefulness, healing, and protection, and Isoko is an excellent frontliner. I could dump you three into any wilderness and I would expect Eliot to come out of it wearing power armor, Isoko to be covered in the blood of your enemies, and Mark making sure everyone looked even more healthy than when you left into the wilds.¡±

    Eliot complained, ¡°But my shield! How can I go out in the field without a shield! My PL¡¯s are going to be too low!¡±

    David said, ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Mark can buff Body instead of you relying on a shield. And your Body isn¡¯t that low, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot looked to Mark, pleading with his eyes.

    Mark said, ¡°I can protect you but¡­ but this is kind of worrying.¡±

    David told Mark, ¡°You¡¯re fine, too.¡±

    Eliot looked to Isoko, trying to find support.

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°I am actually okay with this. You can make all the weapons and stuff we need, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot breathed in. He calmed himself. He stared at David and bargained, ¡°I want one drone for camera work.¡±

    David said, ¡°Sure. It can¡¯t be used for anything else and I¡¯m destroying it myself after 5 hours.¡±

    Eliot relaxed. ¡°Okay. I can deal with this.¡±

    Isoko asked Eliot, ¡°Have you ever forged weapons at all?¡±

    Eliot excitedly said, ¡°I¡¯ve read about it. Extensively, even!¡±

    Isoko withheld judgment. She did nod, though.

    Mark said, ¡°I think this is good, actually.¡± Isoko and Eliot looked to him, while David grinned a little bit. Mark said, ¡°We can do this.¡±

 064

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can do this,¡± Eliot said, as wind blew hard through the open door of the hover van.

    The split city of Rome awaited below, cut in half by the Tiber River that was more accurately a narrow part of the Mediterranean. The whole ruin was festooned with trees and craters of many sizes. Round and oblong lakes were everywhere, and it was easy to see that they had once been craters. Many of the old structures survived the bombings and monster waves of the Reveal, but no one had ever moved back here.

    The area directly below the hovervan was some sort of residential district. The ancient city of Rome was actually on the other side of the Tiberranean. The only truly ancient part of this side of the river was the Vatican area, down south from the goblin infection. With any luck, they wouldn¡¯t need to go to the Vatican area, or north, to another slime space. Toxic yellow slimes covered the half-broken buildings of the Vatican, while poison green ones infested the area to the north, both of them spilling out miasmas of various sorts into the air.

    Directly below, on rooftops and in trees, were wyvern dogs. They were tan, brown, or red-scaled, and mostly mottled. They barked at each other, and at the hovervan overhead. Their calls grew and grew, and Eliot was looking scared.

    Mark looked at Eliot, trying to understand why the man was so scared. Was it really because he had been stripped of all his tech? Mark said, ¡°I once saw you make a phone from trash out of the bin. You can do this, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s single drone camera gripped his shoulders with a few spider-like limbs that he could turn into propellers. Eliot said, ¡°That trash was charged with humanity. There¡¯s nothing down there, Mark. Nothing.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Correction! Nothing yet.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°We can make stuff.¡±

    Eliot frowned at the land down below.

    Inquisitor David watched from the slit of his helmet. He still had all his gear on, but Mark, Eliot, and Isoko, had all been stripped of everything but basic brown clothes. David was going to take away Eliot¡¯s initial drone, too, in 5 hours.

    Isoko put a calming hand on Eliot¡¯s shoulder, saying, ¡°Rely on us, Eliot.¡± She stepped to the hovervan¡¯s opening, hand to the handle, half of her body practically hanging out of the vehicle already. She turned, smiled at Eliot, and her whole body flashed to pure, platinum silver. The hovervan lurched a bit with the added weight of her transformation, which was something she was just getting a hang on herself, but everyone recovered fast enough. With a chuckle, Isoko said, ¡°Everything I kill and the destruction I do is ¡®man made¡¯, right?¡±

    Everyone knew the answer to that, but Eliot didn¡¯t want to say it.

    Isoko turned dramatic, taking her hand off of the handle by the door, and putting the back of that hand to her forehead. She tilted outward. ¡°I¡¯m feeling faint! Oh noooo~ Come rescue me, Eliot!¡± And then she finished tilting out of the vehicle.

    With another dramatic flourish she kicked off of the hovervan¡¯s floor, getting a bit of distance before she tumbled in the air and righted herself.

    Mark rushed to the edge of the hovervan right alongside Eliot. They watched Isoko plummet 15 meters to the surface of what had once been a road made of square bricks. She cracked the stone she landed upon. Two wyvern-dogs stalked at her from the shadows, not willing to commit just yet.

    Mark made a move. He dropped over the edge of the hovercar, his heart beating with a Union of resiliency and weakness, his eyes focused hard on Isoko and the enemies around her.

    Isoko squared up against a wyvern dog and the dog-sized thing screeching loud as it stalked into the sunlight, its scales glinting red and brown as it spread its wings in a threat display. Isoko screamed back at it, ¡°YAAAAA!!!¡±

    The one behind her, 5 meters away, leapt at her, its wings tucked in close, its mouth and claws reaching, grabbing.

    Isoko turned around and kicked the thing''s face into the ground, pinning it there and then putting all of her weight onto the thing¡¯s head, crunching it into the ground. She was 650 pounds on a 140 pound body, so she could just do that. Mark smiled, and then he breathed out weakness, focusing on the wyvern with the threat display that was about to pounce on Isoko¡¯s now-turned back.

    Mark landed on the ground, his body stressed a bit from the heavy drop, but he was running a Union of resiliency and he landed on two legs, the shock absorbed and shunted away by his Power. He was still breathing out weakness, along with his heart beating out the same, all of it leaving Mark and Isoko and going into the wyvern dog.

    The monster collapsed at Isoko¡¯s feet, barely able to make the distance toward her before it fell. Isoko stomped its head in and then continued crushing it just for good measure.

    Mark looked up¡ª

    Eliot landed in Isoko¡¯s initial crater, the ground softening at his fall, buoying him into an easy landing. He had just dropped 15 meters, too. He winced. It had been a hard-ish fall. Mark¡¯s Union cleared away his problems soon, though, and then he stepped onto solid ground. His drone recorded everything it could.

    David was there, standing to the side, in bright silver armor.

    Everyone jolted at David¡¯s sudden appearance.

    David said, ¡°Good showing. Now what?¡±

    Wyvern dogs barked all around them, some of them howling.

    Eliot instantly said, ¡°I can¡¯t scout for shit right now! Let¡¯s get to that crater/plaza up ahead and kill everything and start stacking bricks!¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Isoko on point, Eliot in middle. I got the back.¡± He pointed down the street, toward an open-ish area ahead. That was their destination to start with, but they couldn¡¯t land there directly because it was a main nest. ¡°Let¡¯s do this. Isoko please mangle that rusted car up ahead for Eliot.¡±

    Isoko walked that way and gleefully, briefly, dimmed from full-platinum to just grey, before she leapt into the air, toward the rusted car. Her skin flashed full-platinum right before she landed, the arc of her leap cut short as she gained a not-literal ton of weight. Mark breathed in durability for both of them while his heart continued to beat a Union of resilience and weakness.

    Isoko landed with a tearing, ripping crunch, her feet burying into the rusted steel, her hands coming down and ringing off of the metal frame. She had plunged through the side of the vehicle, but gotten stuck on the metal frame. She winced, but just out of reflex, Mark hoped. She looked at her perfectly fine hand, and then she punched the resistant metal. Mark made sure she stayed protected and healthy and soon she cracked the metal frame.

    Eliot whispered, ¡°Oh thank the gods,¡± as he grabbed hold of the air and the car with his astral body. He pulled out metal from where Isoko crushed and broke the vehicle, creating ingots of pure steel, a basket of plastic and steel, and glass rods. A whole bunch of miscellaneous materials reinforced the basket and its contents, and soon Eliot was looking less freaked out. He grabbed an ingot, ¡°What weapon, Isoko?¡±

    ¡°A blade spear maybe later,¡± Isoko said, as she punched the engine block, ringing her hand. ¡°Big ball hammer first!¡±

    Eliot handed her a big hammer that he would never have been able to hold himself, if not for his Man-made Manipulation. It had a handle a meter long with a counterweight at the base, and a head that was a solid orb of steel that melded with the handle. ¡°Here!¡±

    He tossed it, more with his Power than with actual physical strength, and Isoko caught it, the steel ringing in her platinum grip. It weighed upon her, briefly disrupting her balance as she gripped the weapon. She smiled wide.

    And then she got to smashing.

    The car never stood a chance.

    All the while, the wyvern dogs prowled down the street, growling, barking. They clambered over the broken walls of the buildings all around. They snapped and yelped at Isoko, and her fuck ton of noise.

    Mark saw most of them, but not all of them, for sure. He focused Union, pushing out weakness from himself and his team, while drawing in resilience from the world. Gradually, imperceptibly, he linked to the monsters. He trickled weakness into all of them while drawing out their resilience. Just a little bit. He didn¡¯t want the monsters to realize something was up, and to run.

    The monsters barked louder, meaner. They knew something was happening but they were surrounding their prey and they didn¡¯t really sense anything wrong.

    Isoko continued to destroy the car, though her eyes were all around her. The car was half gone.

    Eliot grabbed all the resources he could, his eyes wide, his breath unsteady. Iron ingots scattered on the ground all around him.

    Isoko worriedly asked, ¡°We¡¯re surrounded by 8 of them! We good, Mark!?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s 9!¡± Eliot called out. ¡°Maybe 10!¡±

    The wyvern dogs barked loud. They didn¡¯t like the humans talking.

    The street was a good 10 meters across. Walls held on both sides. Five wyvern dogs were walking at them from the courtyard, the nearest one 10 meters away. Mark had only seen two on the broken buildings on the left, but he saw two more on the other side, hiding in the rubble, sneaking in from the backside. Those ones were 15 meters away. They had flapped and fluttered over there to attack from the back. One of those ones was big and red. The size of a tiger, rather than a dog. It had been the main wyvern dog at the courtyard up ahead. That one absolutely had to die, but hopefully last, and then they could mop up the pack instead of watching them scatter and make problems later.

    Mark said, ¡°We¡¯re twice as strong as them and they¡¯re not aware they¡¯re SLIGHTLY weakened. We¡¯re good. You¡¯re on those five up there, Isoko.¡± He softly said, ¡°Blade spear, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot ripped a blade spear out of the ingots at the ground. It was two meters long, thick as two fingers, and with a punching dagger for a head. Eliot floated it to Mark, and Mark snatched it out of the air. It was basically a weight bar, for bench presses, but as a weapon.

    It was not light.

    Mark easily held it, his grip tightening. He might not be a brawny with a basic strength modifier, but he was pretty solid with resilience stolen from the monsters right now, and Mark¡¯s version of resilience at this particular moment was all about strength and resistance.

    Mark said, ¡°Eliot. Open with some spears of your own. I¡¯ll drop the back ones when they¡ª¡±

    The fight began with a scrabbling of clawed hands suddenly gripping stone and street underneath, one of the lead monsters on Isoko¡¯s side jumping at her. The monster spread its wings wide, gliding in just a bit, before it dropped its wings to the side for a straight-on tackle/pounce. Two others did the same thing, all of them aimed to take down Isoko at the same time.

    Big Red stayed back, maybe 20 meters away. Two of the back liners leapt at Mark and Eliot; one each.

    Mark breathed in all of the durability he could from each of the five attacking monsters, granting it to his people instead.

    Eliot crafted three spears with a sudden transformation. The only problem with him using his Power like that was that he couldn¡¯t actually throw them with any real strength. He was not a Shaper; his power was just Manipulation. He could, however, toss them in the general direction of one of the beasts, the one attacking him, and hope for the best.

    Three spears clattered deep into the flesh of that one wyvern dog, one of them going right through its chest and halfway out the other side. Eliot made a surprised sound and also a tower shield that he stomped into the ground in front of himself. That wyvern dog crashed into that solid shield, dead.

    At the same time, Mark brought his blade spear down through the attacking wyvern dog gliding at him. The monster didn¡¯t think Mark¡¯s weapon could hurt it at all, and in a normal scenario that was true. Eliot had been surprised his attack had worked on the one he had killed for very good reasons. Eliot had scouted these things, and they were all between 15 and 25 in Body, and normal steel was Power Level 0.

    But Mark had taken all of this monster¡¯s durability that he could, dropping its Body rating low; Mark wasn¡¯t sure how low, actually. It was low enough.

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    Mark¡¯s spear cleaved through the creature¡¯s head before getting stuck on its chest. The creature¡¯s wing-claws tried to grab onto Mark, and it succeeded, but Mark was at somewhere like 28 Body right now, and so was everyone else in the party, if they weren¡¯t higher. Eliot was the lowest in Body right now, because David had made him leave his shield behind, but even Eliot was probably at a 20. And Mark was actively protecting everyone, too.

    The creature¡¯s claws ripped at Mark¡¯s clothes and skidded off of his skin, leaving little welts that rapidly vanished due to Mark¡¯s healing Union.

    Mark breathed in all of the durability he could from 2 of Isoko¡¯s secondary attackers and they kinda faltered in the air, but he left the first one alone for her to absolutely crush, her giant ball mace slamming into the creature¡¯s head and pulping it against the ground.

    The fight turned from worrying to cleanup in a scattering second, because the next thing Mark did was breathe out weakness, focusing heavily on Big Red, who was looking worried and ready to bolt, or something. Mark wasn¡¯t sure. Mark¡¯s weakness connected to Big Red and Big Red faltered and fainted. He stayed down. Isoko murdered the other wyvern dogs up front.

    Mark moved his breathing of weakness and durability around, hindering the monsters who looked like they were trying to counter attack, while letting go those who were already dazed, or out of position. Those ones he had dazed took a whole lot of seconds to come back around to the fight, so dazing them for a single breath or two was good enough to keep them out of the battle.

    Mark had a personal limit of how much he could affect at once, and it was a lot easier moving his focus around, purposefully disrupting the enemy forces, than it was trying to keep them all contained and controlled at the same time. Big Red stayed down, though; Mark made sure of that. Big Red might have had a Knack, or Power of some sort.

    Once Isoko was done bashing in skulls, Mark didn¡¯t need to concentrate on his Union of Breath so much. He could just focus on his heartbeat, and on his Union of Blood.

    Soon enough, Isoko, covered in blood, that was not her own and smiling a lot, walked over to Big Red, holding her bent warmace over one shoulder, and then she splattered Big Red. Thwam! Crack! Splat! Ever the triumphant warrior she stood tall, clothes shredded some, boots completely gone, and warmace fully bent out of position. The head of her mace was deformed and gouged by the monster scales and a few lucky scratches.

    Eliot shook a little bit, saying, ¡°Oh thank the gods.¡±

    Isoko and Mark both paused.

    Mark walked to him, asking, ¡°You okay, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot breathed in, then out, and Mark helped him with some Union of Blood, to expel weakness and take in resilience. Eliot breathed easier, and declared, ¡°I hate being unprepared. HATE.¡± He flicked his hands out, dismissing his concerns, saying, ¡°But we did that okay. Great thwomping, Platinum Princess. Great Union work¡­ Err¡­ I¡¯ll come up with a name for you soon enough¡ª Unionizer! ¡­ No.¡± He said to Isoko. ¡°That mace is unusable now. It touched too much monster stuff. Also, we¡¯re all covered in monster stuff. It makes it impossible to repair clothes.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Mark hopped to, breathing in purity and breathing out impurity for the whole group. Gradually, slowly, blood and gore evaporated and turned to dust to filter into the air and away. The environment loved impurity, so it was easy to filter away all the blood and viscera from all of them with 10-ish breaths, but Eliot and Isoko didn¡¯t want to wait that long, and neither should they.

    Eliot gestured to another rusted car down the road that had crashed into a wall and covered in rubble. ¡°Can you please, Isoko? I need more supplies.¡±

    Isoko slapped the mace in her hands, shaking the drying debris off of it, asking, ¡°Should I use this?¡±

    ¡°No. The monsters had a hand in creating that. Use your fists.¡±

    Isoko flicked the mace overhead where it crashed against the wall of a house and clattered down, making a great big racket. Wyvern dogs barked in the distance, but they had been doing that a lot. Isoko happily skipped toward the next broken car, saying, ¡°Your Power is very useful, Eliot!¡± As she punched into the vehicle¡¯s frame, near the windshield, she asked, ¡°Is that other mace gone for good, now?¡±

    Eliot floated his supplies taken from the other car around him, moving slowly, like he was carrying a big weight. ¡°Mark¡¯s purity/impurity helps to clean out the astral body influence of the monsters¡ª¡±

    Mark gestured to the big basket of supplies, asking, ¡°Need help? Also wheels?¡±

    Eliot blinked, laughed once, then added wheels to his basket, and Mark started pushing it like it was a weird shopping cart. The ground was uneven, but Mark made do. Eliot continued, ¡°I could get that mace back into shape in a few minutes, but it¡¯s much easier and I can do better work with new materials, and Breath of Purity doesn¡¯t actually get rid of the problems of monster contamination. You think it would, but you would be wrong. This isn¡¯t a Natural Power; this is a dictated power based on ancient decisions made by demons and then reinforced by Malaqua in the Reveal. Even if you purify everything a monster has touched, that mace is still a day away from being manipulable again.¡± Eliot floated debris from the new car demolishing into the basket. ¡°Did you like that mace?¡±

    ¡°I did, actually,¡± Isoko said, as she crashed further into the vehicle, attacking the engine block under the rubble of the wall. Everything she touched floated away as either resources or it simply melted out of her way, becoming sand at the side, once Eliot could manipulate it after Isoko ¡®marked it as man-made again through the act of destruction¡¯. Isoko said, ¡°I managed to reinforce it with a bit of tactile telekinesis, too, so once I actually manage that power in truth maybe the next ones won¡¯t break so easily.¡±

    Mark kept their astral bodies strong, pushing their weakness out into the world and bringing in resilience with every beat of his heart, enabling Eliot to continually work his power and Isoko to keep her body in ¡®Full Platinum Mode¡¯ as she beat up the broken car.

    Soon enough, the shopping cart was bigger, stronger, and it had some nice rubber wheels that rolled smooth over the ground, over all the bumps and problems in the road. A large pile of ingots ¡ªmostly steel¡ª rested in the center, surrounded by glass bricks and bottles of oils and other liquids. Plastic bricks rested in the front, piling high. There were even some wooden planks and leather and cotton.

    Mark looked at the piles grow, asking, ¡°All of this was in those two cars?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. These old cars have a lot of weird things. It¡¯s mostly plastic these days.¡± Eliot looked into the bin. ¡°¡­ I guess that¡¯s enough. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    Isoko stopped beating up the car, smiling as she stepped out of the remains of the metal frame, saying, ¡°This is really quite fun! I never smashed a car apart before.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s your strength modifier up to, anyway?¡±

    ¡°1.7 times normal human strength while in Full Platinum,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Need help pushing?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said. ¡°I¡¯m baseline strength.¡±

    Isoko pushed the cart with Mark, as Eliot crafted a new mace out of a few remaining parts of the vehicle. The new mace looked just like Isoko¡¯s first one. Isoko gripped it with one hand and pushed with the other, asking, ¡°Got any idea of what¡¯s ahead?¡±

    Eliot was already looking through a pair of glasses of his own make, but it didn¡¯t seem to be working out how he wanted. He frowned, then said, ¡°At least 6, and also hatchlings. This stuff doesn¡¯t work right. I need to work on actual tech to get proper scouting.¡±

    Mark glanced at the camera drone flying around them, then looked out for monsters, asking, ¡°It¡¯s still weird you¡¯re getting any tech at all out here. You said you worked off of radio waves in the air, or something?¡±

    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s the only way I¡¯m able to make anything high-tech at all, actually; piggybacking off of ambient humanity in the air.¡± Eliot showed off his glasses. They were illuminated with lights on the insides. He put them back on and looked around, ¡°Unfortunately, I cannot hand these ones off. I need to make better pairs for you two¡ª Incoming! Three from the left!¡± He glanced behind. ¡°None behind that I can see!¡±

    Eliot rushed to the right, getting in front of Mark, and allowing Isoko to rush ahead to the left.

    A wyvern dog crested the roof of the building and barked as it leapt right down at Mark.

    A second one curved around the building and rushed straight for Isoko.

    A third one followed the second one, heading for Isoko.

    Mark dropped all three of them to the ground, fainting them instantly. And then he cut through the neck of the one in front of him, killing it. Isoko made quick work of the other two.

    Mark breathed deep and exhaled impurity, flowing the blood away from their weapons, cleaning them up a bit to make Eliot¡¯s job easier¡ª

    Eliot panicked about the goods in the cart. He looked at it, exclaiming, ¡°FUCK! There¡¯s blood on it. Dammit¡­ It¡¯s fine!¡± He took one of the metal ingots and turned it into a cover, while sealing up the plastic sides of the cart as much as he could. There were holes in the cart where monster blood had splashed, but Eliot said, ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He said to Mark, ¡°You¡¯re very good at putting down monsters.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°I can only do three at a time because we only have three people, so keep that in mind.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°You should do less, Mark. Save it for when we need it, like with the 10-pile back there.¡±

    ¡°I tend to agree,¡± David said, speaking up. ¡°Also? You can only do three?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s a matter of balance. They¡¯re our size, so yeah. Three is a good number. And if I stretch it too thick or thin then they might notice¡­ Err¡­ What¡¯s their Scan like, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot rambled off, ¡°Same as it was on the big info from COFR; 20-30 Body. No real Talent, but a knack for flight. That Large Red one back there had some sort of plant-thing going on; Natural Power.¡±

    Mark was glad he had kept Big Red down. He said, ¡°So yeah, I can only do 3¡ª¡±

    ¡°Main pack incoming,¡± Eliot said, looking ahead.

    They had reached the edge of the road. Up ahead, in the large circular area, the road transitioned into a big crater with a shallow lake on the right and a forested area on the left. That ¡®forested area¡¯ had looked like a bunch of trees all warped together, but now that he was here, Mark saw it was really one tree that had crawled up some buildings. The tree gnarled into the roads and the stone, and wyvern dogs made homes in those roots and tangled branches.

    Mark guessed that the tree was a monster¡ª

    Eliot looked through his glasses, saying, ¡°Tree is alive; monster class.¡± He looked down. ¡°Roots extend below us, but they¡¯re small things. Don¡¯t get closer to the tree. Three dogs from the front¡ª¡± He whipped around. ¡°Two up there!¡±

    The monsters were already attacking from the front.

    Mark crashed the wyvern dogs to the ground, one after the other, taking everything that made them resilient and giving them weaknesses in turn. Isoko cracked heads. The ones behind Mark and Eliot tried to dive bomb them but Mark switched focus and dropped them to the ground next, leaving Isoko alone with two combatants. He called out his shots and Isoko grunted as she took on two weakened monsters on her own. Mark cut off the heads of the monsters who attacked from the back, but his spear broke on the neck of the second one.

    Eliot said, ¡°It¡¯s a multi-strength one! It¡¯s dangerous!¡±

    Mark locked the dangerous wyvern dog down and eventually smashed its head in with his broken spear. It did not die until Mark drove his broken spear into its chest.

    Isoko had managed to disorient one of her opponents with a lucky head smack, making it back up and shake its head, but the other one was gnawing on her leg and she couldn¡¯t dislodge it. It couldn¡¯t bite into her leg at all, either, but it did rake at her clothes.

    Mark sent the biting one fainting to the ground.

    Isoko killed it after that, driving a knife-like hand into the creature¡¯s brain. The cleanup went fast from there.

    Mark asked, ¡°Where did your mace go?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°It snapped in half.¡± He looked embarrassed. ¡°Sorry!¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t hold it under my TT. My fault.¡± What little wounds she had sealed up, and Mark started breathing purity and exhaling impurity, cleaning all of them up. With ripped clothes dangling from her, and not caring about it at all, Isoko thumbed at the tree, asking, ¡°We doing anything about the monster tree?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Let¡¯s not, because I can do this.¡± Mark extended Union into the world, connecting to the fish in the water, the plants growing on the bank, the monster tree, and everything else nearby. He breathed in sustenance for himself and his people, and breathed out deprivation, while his heart drew in resilience and expelled weakness. It felt like he breathed in dinner and expelled a desert with every breath. Mark felt refreshed with every breath, and he knew Eliot and Isoko did, too. Mark asked, ¡°David? You want in on this? Do I need to provide for you?¡±

    David said, ¡°Technically no, but actually yes.¡±

    Mark smiled, and then he included David in the Union. As he did that, Mark asked everyone, ¡°How does that feel? I can do that for a while, and 30 minutes of breathing sustenance/deprivation in a good environment is equivalent to 1 workable meal. So like 750 calories. That tree makes this a good environment, so that¡¯s why I think we need to keep the monster tree. Otherwise we need to go somewhere else with other trees.¡±

    Everyone looked at Eliot.

    Eliot was looking at the ground with his glasses. He hummed. ¡°¡­ I think it¡¯s fine. The wyvern dogs nested in the tree and it¡¯s all scratched to hell because of that, so¡­ maybe the tree doesn¡¯t mind?¡±

    David spoke up, ¡°Except for mobile trees, trees are pretty relaxed when you¡¯re not actively hurting them. Since the wyvern dogs were nesting in it, that means that it isn¡¯t one of the actively murderous trees, too. That Large Red one had some sort of Natural power, though, which is a bit concerning, but not overly concerning. The tree will eat the bodies that you all dropped, but that¡¯s pretty normal. Just don¡¯t die around it and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I¡¯m reinforcing the lower walls we build anyway.¡± He pointed at one of the ruined buildings to the side. ¡°Let¡¯s get that one cracked and remade. It looks like we can make it secure, and there aren¡¯t any other buildings near it¡­ not much, anyway.¡± He looked at the water. ¡°Is it too close to the water, though?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°We don¡¯t need water, so we don¡¯t need to take the risk. Let¡¯s move away from the water.¡± She pointed out a different building. ¡°That one. It¡¯s standing alone anyway.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I have no objections to Isoko¡¯s suggestion.¡±

    Eliot nodded¡­ And then he looked to David. ¡°Thoughts?¡±

    David smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a building that fits your plan.¡±

    Eliot nodded. ¡°Right. This is our plan.¡±

    Isoko opened and closed her hands toward Eliot. ¡°Mace, please!¡±

    Eliot made two of them and handed the second one to Mark.

    Mark hefted the thing¡ª and it was fucking heavy. He put it down on the cart. ¡°For when Isoko needs it. I¡¯ll stack bricks. That works too, right?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Yup!¡±

    While Isoko bashed in a wall on the lower floor of the building and toppled part of the second story down to ground level, sending a plume of dust up into the air, Mark grabbed some stray bricks and just started piling them up into a rough wall shape. Mostly, Mark sustained the party, and also David.

    Eliot said, ¡°Please smash the ground too, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko grinned as she started smashing even more.

 065

    It was fun watching Eliot¡¯s Power at work.

    Every smash of Isoko¡¯s mace caused the ground to break in small sections, and then repair stronger than ever. She broke a wall down and the wall sorted into piles of bricks that Mark started stacking. Once the bricks were stacked well enough, the bricks began to grow into a strong wall of 10 bricks for every 1 that Mark laid down. Eliot recorded everything on his camera drone, as he stood at the center of the destruction, closer to Mark, looking sleepy, his eyes half-lidded. It didn¡¯t look like much, but he was doing the most of anyone right now; all of the heavy lifting. He just needed other people to set up the dominoes so he could make them fall properly.

    Within 20 minutes the 2 story apartment, which was already half broken, was fully demolished, and 20% rebuilt.

    Pristine, grey stone bricks lay in giant stacks to the sides. Metal reinforcements and nails and wood were all stacked in their own piles, as either ingots or 2x4¡¯s. Glass got its own section. Insulation got disassembled and made into foggy glass. Miscellaneous stuff got placed into a large stone bowl; It looked like plastics and some bits and bobs. A big pile of plaster got dumped out as dry, white-ish powder. A similar pile of brown powder appeared, and it might have been clay; Mark wasn¡¯t sure¡ª

    Eliot crashed onto his ass, saying, ¡°Okay! I need a minute! Mark is already stretching me way too far. I need a minute.¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°He doesn¡¯t swing that way, Eliot!

    Mark¡¯s face turned red.

    Eliot stammered, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡ª You know what I meant!¡±

    Mark discarded the redness to his face, and focused on Union, trying to get Eliot back up and running by expelling all of his weakness into the world. He deadpanned, ¡°I¡¯ll get you ready for round two, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s face went red this time.

    Isoko laughed once as she stepped closer, waggling her eyebrows. ¡°Maybe he does swing that way.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    Eliot breathed in, and relaxed, saying, ¡°Okay. Ready for round two. Let¡¯s get those bricks stacked!¡±

    Isoko began stacking bricks alongside Mark, and soon the piles of materials began to drain from the piles and reappear as walls. Wherever Mark and Isoko placed bricks seemed to be good enough for Eliot, even though where they built the walls was not where the walls ended up getting built. Once, Mark made a stack of bricks across a way, and the wall ended up getting built two meters away, which was not how the plan looked to Mark, since he thought he was following the plan that Eliot had described earlier. But obviously he was not. Eventually, the same thing happened to Isoko, and Isoko asked about the general layout of the hideout.

    ¡°It¡¯s basically what I planned out earlier, but a little bit bigger. Isoko? Can you grab your hammer and smash the street up some, around the wall? Yes. Just like that. Thank you. Anyway. It¡¯s gonna be a square with two rounded towers on the north and south, so that we can watch the goblin territory, in the west, from the towers. We can also watch the waters. I¡¯m just expanding it from the original designs. Three stories, meter-thick walls. Side house to the south, reachable through overhead, covered walkway. I want to build a wall around the whole place, too. We¡¯re gonna need to demolish a few more buildings to get it done.¡±

    David spoke up, ¡°You have 3 hours left with your drone camera.¡±

    Eliot rapidly added, ¡°And I need to make electronics. I should be able to make it with what I have. And then I litter early warning systems everywhere and make a grand scanner at the top of the tower and a secondary one at the top of the second tower.¡±

    Isoko banged up the street, enjoying herself, stomping with her feet and with her mace, saying, ¡°I want a palace room for my princess persona!¡±

    Eliot laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll produce the most professional princess palace you can picture!¡±

    Isoko smashed a ruined scooter that turned into various materials to float into piles at the bottom of the structure, saying, ¡°Perfect!¡±

    Mark stacked bricks and kept everyone in top shape, and also refreshed with water and nutrition, while also making sure no one had to take a break for the bathroom. Occasionally he glanced over at the big monster tree. Once Eliot was done with the base, it would rival the tree for size. Mark wondered how the tree would react. The tree seemed happy right now¡­ though Mark couldn¡¯t tell why he thought that.

    It was just a feeling.

    Soon, Eliot stood on the second story of the building with all the supplies located under cover, on the sealed first floor, while Isoko smashed into the walls of a nearby structure. Mark stood on the second floor and stacked bricks on the edge of the solid structure, while David hung out, just watching, occasionally flickering as he moved super fast, and then came back.

    Mark gestured at the big tree, asking, ¡°Do you think it likes me using it for Union purposes?¡±

    David said, ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve been checking on it, and it¡¯s growing fast. Look up at the top. It¡¯s almost fall, and that is not an evergreen, so it should be cycling down in preparation to conserve resources for the winter. In a month or two, it should change colors. But those leaves up at the top are bright green. New growth.¡±

    ¡°New growth, huh?¡±

    Mark was a little concerned. Plant life didn¡¯t work like human/monster interactions worked when it came to Union work. Not fully. In a general way, and unless Mark was purposefully blighting the area, plants simply liked being connected to a larger system, even if they had to give up stuff to that system. They usually got a lot more back. Fungi liked Union work too, for much the same reasons. For normal magical plants, this was not a problem.

    But for monstrous plants, ones that could decide how they wanted to be and then attack if they didn¡¯t like a thing, this could be a problem. According to Lola, some monster plants attacked if they really liked a thing, too.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is it a problem?¡±

    David said, ¡°It¡¯s not a sapient monster tree, just sentient. It knows it¡¯s connected to a larger system right now, but it doesn¡¯t know where that connection is coming from. Not yet. If we¡¯re still here in a week, we¡¯ll reevaluate. The wyvern dogs lived in it, bringing their meals back to it all the time, while not killing the wyverns, so it¡¯s probably not a dangerous monster. It¡¯s the monster trees that have no wildlife in them at all that you really have to watch out for.¡±

    Mark nodded in thought.

    He continued to breathe in sustenance and breathe out deprivation, while also beating his heart with resilience and weakness. The tree probably didn¡¯t like the deprivation that Mark was giving it, but it loved the resilience and weakness, and Mark didn¡¯t have to adjust his Union too much to match with the slower-beating ¡®heart¡¯ of the tree. It was a monster tree, after all.

    An hour later Isoko had barreled her way through every nearby building and Eliot had completed the second story of the building. Eliot stayed down on the second floor while Mark climbed onto the third floor to stack bricks.

    Isoko paused her destruction for a moment, calling out upstairs, ¡°I haven¡¯t heard the dogs barking in a while! Got an overview, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Not yet, but I¡¯m looking now.¡±

    The drone moved up¡ª

    ¡°Nope!¡± David said, and then he had the drone in one hand, saying, ¡°That¡¯s for camera work only.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Eliot frantically said, ¡°Okay okay! Don¡¯t break it yet, please!¡±

    David said, ¡°Sure. Scout without it, though.¡± He held onto the camera.

    Eliot shook his head, and then looked down at the floor, at a tiny hole in the stone between the first and second floor. Plastics and metals, Mark assumed, flowed out of that hole, into Eliot¡¯s hands, while the stone in front of Mark extended tall, like a column growing out of the building. Mark looked over the edge of the building and watched as the wall thickened out into a proper column that extended high, high above.

    In his hands, Eliot crafted some sort of geodesic ball out of metals, glass, and colorful red plastics. A minute later some wires dropped out of the bottom of the thing, coiling long and thin. With a gesture, Eliot floated it to the top of the column and buried the wires under the stone, where they came out on the second and third floor. With a few more gestures he crafted some basic screens and keyboards. He set up a station right where Mark stood, and Mark moved to the side to let him do that, while he focused on his own Power, keeping Eliot¡¯s astral body and his real body in top shape. Eliot sweated a little bit while he worked, tapping away at a keyboard that wasn¡¯t there, but which sprung into being at his touch.

    Mark cycled a purity/impurity breathing Union for a little, Eliot relaxed a bit, and then Mark went back to breathing sustenance/deprivation. Eliot began to work easier as he typed at nonexistent keyboards.

    Ten minutes later, Eliot had created three touch screens set up around the skeleton of the second and third floor, and one main scanning station where he stood, at the second story ¡®base¡¯ of the scanning column. Overhead, the geodesic scanner seemed to glitter under a dome of solid glass that then turned solidly opaque. Another meter of stone appeared on top of the scanner, giving the whole thing a false top, and then a second ¡®scanner globe¡¯ went on top of that secondary top.

    Mark smirked. ¡°That¡¯s some smart camo. The second fake scanner.¡±

    Eliot tapped away at the keyboard below his main screen, nonsense scribbles dancing across the screen every button press and becoming something more intelligible, becoming letters and numbers. Eliot said, ¡°There¡¯re lots of tricks to protecting a space, but what I did up there was make a second scanner; it¡¯s not a fake scanner.¡±

    Mark looked up and reevaluated what he was seeing. ¡°Just double scan things? Redundancy?¡±

    ¡°You have to triangulate and each sphere triangulates on its own, but the double system can sort through a lot more than a single system. And yeah; redundancy is good.¡±

    Mark watched as Eliot typed away at the keyboard. The things on the screen started to make sense. Mark managed to make out that Eliot was basically typing ¡®work faster please I need to scan this place¡¯ and variations of that, which was kinda neat. Soon, the screen showed a map of the area, zoomed out to maybe a mile around them? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. But it captured the entire area and then some, from beyond that Vatican area to a good hundred meters across the river.

    Ten minutes later, and the scanner seemed fully operational. The screens were wide and detailed.

    It was like one of those underwater scanners that Mark had seen on the fishing boat¡ª

    Mark tried not to think of Dad and Mom and how everything had been destroyed, as he saw a screen that was mostly black with pale green squarish outlines here and there. Some greenish craters were everywhere, too, and the river was a big outline in green. Little red dots were everywhere, and four white dots were at the center; those would be monsters and the four humans here, in the middle.

    Mark had seen Eliot drop a computer core system, or something like that, down through a hole in the first floor, too, so he had pretty much¡­ pulled tech from the radio waves in the air, or something like that? And then copied it all down there into a robust, redundant system? Mark wasn¡¯t sure, but it was all very neat¡ª

    ¡°Keep stacking bricks, please,¡± Eliot told him, and then he yelled out to Isoko, ¡°The wyvern dogs cleared out! All clear in every direction, 100 meters! Please keep smashing shit!¡±

    Isoko had taken a break, but now she got back to smashing shit, grinning as she did so.

    Mark resumed brick stacking as he told Eliot, ¡°This is so cool, Eliot. Glad to have you here.¡±

    Eliot smiled. ¡°Glad to be here.¡±

    An hour later and the castle, the walls, and the nearest twenty meters of space beyond that, were transformed. Eliot built a 3 story fortress out of the ruins of this small part of Rome, ensured the inside was lit with lights and had beds, and it even had some rudimentary wall turrets on the roof, behind rotating shield walls. And also the cameras. Lots of cameras, everywhere. A whole big bank of video screens sat on the second floor, looking like a security guard station.

    Eventually, when Eliot had a bunch of extra drones, he told David that he was done with the initial camera drone.

    David took Eliot¡¯s initial drone and zipped it away, to place it right inside the broken eggs of the wyvern dog nest in the monster tree. Covered in drying monster goo, it was completely beyond Eliot¡¯s ability to affect. Eliot had three more drones perched on the walls and floating around the building by the time David came back.

    David asked the three of them, ¡°Now what?¡±

    Isoko rested against her big mace, saying, ¡°We¡¯ve got a few hours of daylight left. Want to go make a lure tower?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I agree to that.¡±

    Eliot looked a lot more secure in his options and power, as he spooled fishing line into one hand, expanded his pockets back into cargo shorts, and asked, ¡°I remade basic brown clothes for us all, but how do you two feel about outfits? Personal branding?¡±

    ¡°No thanks!¡±

    ¡°Not at this point in time.¡±

    Eliot scoffed. He pivoted, ¡°How about names? Platinum Princess, for real?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Grandmother already suggested that one, so yeah, that¡¯s probably going to be the name I register under.¡±

    Eliot smiled wide and clapped his hands. Then he pointed at Mark, ¡°Steelstream! How about it? It¡¯s a pun and an allusion to the adamantium thing you can eventually do.¡±

    Mark¡­ discovered he didn¡¯t hate it¡ª

    He realized something about the abbreviations. ¡°Nope. Not having ¡®SS¡¯ as a branding logo.¡±

    Eliot almost scoffed, but then he paused. ¡°Yeah. Maybe not. Technically, your name should be Addastream or Adamstream, but the first is not great and the second just sounds bad.¡±

    Mark frowned. ¡°Not doing those sorts of names.¡±

    Eliot moved on, ¡°Okay okay! How about¡ª¡± He spread his arms, flickering lights into the air, writing out and saying, ¡°Vitalis! One word! Big meanings!¡±

    David smirked.

    ¡°¡­ While I don¡¯t hate it,¡± Mark said, ¡°That name is probably in use already.¡±

    ¡°They all are, Mark,¡± Eliot said. ¡°But you could take that one! Especially if you go Villain. You can ¡®assassinate¡¯ the hero that has it and take it.¡±

    Isoko suggested, ¡°Dark Vitalis!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°No way.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°It¡¯s not a bad one!¡±

    Mark went to the door that led to the stairs down, grabbing his spear from the wall, saying, ¡°Let¡¯s get to luring goblins, please.¡± And then he stepped out into the afternoon sun, facing one of four solid stone staircases that led to a walled, dry moat, and then out past the wall to the land beyond. He started walking down, toward the west, saying, ¡°Daylight is burning, and we gotta enact some very dumb attempts at peace.¡±

    Eliot grinned wide. ¡°That¡¯s a perfect villain line!¡±

    Isoko laughed as she followed Mark down the path, saying, ¡°He doesn¡¯t need a writer after all.¡±

    Mark frowned, but only to stop himself from chuckling.

    David left the building last, and then he vanished off into elsewhere. Wherever he was, he was probably still close.

    With a wave of his hand just to show that he was doing something, Eliot sealed up the building, asking, ¡°How about Blackvein?¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°What¡¯s your name, then, Eliot? ¡®Human Bard¡¯?

    ¡°Close! It¡¯s my channel name, ¡®Veryhuman¡¯!¡± Eliot added, ¡°Three wyvern dogs ahead. They¡¯re headed this way.¡±

    Isoko hefted her big mace, saying, ¡°Time to get killing.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Also a very villainous line.¡±

    Isoko held up a shimmering platinum arm, saying, ¡°Okay! Okay! I can be a hero. Let¡¯s be heeeroooes~¡± She rushed forward onto the street and then smashed her mace against the ground, cracking the air with the sound of it all, before she projected her voice to the sky, yelling, ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡±

    Mark smashed the butt of his spear into the stone street and took up the cry, ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡±

    Wyvern dogs started barking up ahead real loud, and then flapping toward Isoko.

    Mark dropped them and Isoko splattered them.

    As Eliot walked through the gore, following Mark and Isoko down the street, Eliot commented to his cameras, ¡°So yeah, kids. We have a good team. Much better than going out on my own! Remember kids: venturing alone in the wilds might be great for the thrill of it all, but it greatly increases your risk of death~¡±

 066

    As the monster lure tower went up, sunset lingered on the horizon.

    A good 15 wyvern dog bodies slowly cooled in the evening air. The tower reached high, and soon lights appeared on it, along with words repeating in a loop and written down in a few different languages on stone around the area.

    ¡®Attention goblins! We¡¯re requesting peace!¡¯

    Mark thought it absolutely insane, but it was part of the mission.

    Isoko moved her scanning glasses to the top of her head and told Mark, ¡°You know. We¡¯re not learning anything if you drop them before we get a chance to even fight. I¡¯m not complaining, mind you. Just pointing out something.¡±

    Mark looked around, studying the street intersection.

    Eliot had set up their glasses to show them goblins as blue glows, and Mark saw no blue glows.

    Eliot could not actually scan for monsters, either. That¡¯s not how his Power worked at all. He could only affect man-made things, and that meant that he couldn¡¯t touch monsters at all. But he could take in information from around the nearby world and sort it based on if he could manipulate it, or not. That¡¯s how Eliot scanned for monsters. All of Earth was filled with radio waves and human-made pollution and this was even a former human city, so the very air was ¡®tainted¡¯ with humanity.

    So Eliot scanned for absences.

    Mark spied the world through his glasses, and saw differences.

    Spider webs dried in the broken windows of the streets ahead, rimmed in grey on the screen over Mark¡¯s eyes. Some spiders lingered in the dark, not wanting to venture into the open at all; they were rimmed in solid white. The wyverns, dead and cooling on the ground, were rimmed in red that was already fading, because they had been killed by people so they were no longer ¡®monster made¡¯. Not wholly.

    Eliot had marked the goblins as blue, and Mark did not see any real blue presences. He did see some faint blue impressions on the ground far ahead, but they were just smudges. Footprints. Handprints.

    Mark continued to look around with the glasses, searching for threats, as he said, ¡°Of course this is terrible for real world experience, Isoko, but we¡¯re all still stressing our bodies a lot. I think Eliot is growing the most, but you started off at PL31, yeah? The scanner was reading you as barely tier 3 before, but it¡¯s reading you as clearly tier 3 right now.¡±

    Isoko watched as Eliot tinkered with the lure tower. A smiling goblin took shape in holograms in the air above the tower. The holographic goblin waved toward the west, toward the goblin territory. And then a person appeared. The holographic person stood with the goblin, and then they shook hands¡ª And then the light show flickered and messed up.

    Eliot hummed in annoyance. He fixed it. Soon, the lightshow was working properly, the goblin and human shaking hands and then the goblin walking away through a portal, back to Daihoon. The human waved goodbye.

    Now if that didn¡¯t count as an attempt at peace, then fuck the attempt at peace.

    Isoko added, ¡°I meant like battle experience.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get a lot of that soon enough,¡± Mark said, ¡°And with enemies that aren¡¯t just monsters.¡±

    Isoko hefted her mace and flipped her glasses back down, saying, ¡°I just want to kill a wyvern without assistance once.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± Mark pulled his Union back from her.

    Isoko suddenly slumped a little, her Pure Platinum form fading a bit to grey, her mace turning too heavy and falling almost to the ground, but she rallied. She gripped the mace and held it off the ground as she said, ¡°Ah, fuck. You were buffing me that much?¡±

    ¡°More like all the monsters watching us right now are buffing you that much, and I am just the vector for that. Mostly spiders, though. They¡¯re too far away to think about attacking us.¡± Mark asked, ¡°You sure about that?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Not so much at the moment, but yeah. I still am. I think some dogs are coming this way, down the street.¡± She pointed.

    Mark looked that way and saw some small signatures down the way; outlines in red on his glasses. ¡°Pretty far.¡± He looked up at the glowing goblin tower. ¡°The light attracts them, yeah?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Light, noise, etcetera. Some monsters are thermal detectors, too. Most reptiles are heat-seekers. The wyverns are like that.¡±

    Eliot patted the side of the lit-up tower and the electronics he had been working on slipped into the tower and then covered over in stone. The illuminated goblin-hologram at the top continued to wave and chuckle and beckon on a loop, toward the west. The human continued to appear and shake hands, and then send the goblin back to Daihoon.

    Eliot said, ¡°Okay! We¡¯re good! Peace attempt established and connection established. Scanners active. Back to base!¡±

    Eliot led the way back east, with Isoko and Mark following, and then Isoko taking point.

    David walked to their sides.

    Mark asked, ¡°How are we doing so far, David?¡±

    David said, ¡°Unless something strange happens this mission is honestly way below all three of you, and especially together.¡± He frowned. ¡°So let¡¯s hope nothing strange happens.¡±

    Lisa walked beside Mark, asking, ¡°Why would anything strange happen?¡±

    Mark shrugged. ¡°Always a possibility.¡± He looked down at Lisa, and the small woman was getting kinda close, out of formation, which was rather weird of her.

    Also¡­

    Something else was wrong.

    Mark¡¯s glasses, from Eliot, rimmed Lisa in bright blue, and also Lisa was wearing¡­ well. Nothing. But she had been in a battle, right? And so her clothes were ripped. And yet, Eliot should have fixed that, like he did all their other clothes.

    ¡­ And the glasses rimmed her in blue, and blue meant ¡®goblin¡¯.

    That¡¯s how Eliot had set it up.

    That¡¯s how it still worked.

    And then Lisa opened her mouth a meter away from Mark, and that was probably the only reason that Mark instinctively leapt away from her, pulling his hand back as her teeth snapped on empty air.

    Mark slammed Lisa with all of his negative Union, dropping her to the ground, while connecting positively to Isoko, Eliot, David, and Juan.

    Lisa fell to the ground, fainting.

    Mark looked at his group. Eliot, David, and Isoko were all untouched by the scan of the glasses, but Juan was rimmed in blue.

    Juan was going to bite Eliot¡¯s right thigh.

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    David moved fast.

    Suddenly he had two heads in his hands.

    Lisa and Juan¡¯s heads.

    Mark felt a terrible sort of itch in his head as he saw the heads of two of his friends in David¡¯s hands, but he also saw them as green-skinned and with big ears, bright yellow eyes, and nasty, pointed teeth. Eliot gasped as he grabbed his head, while Isoko blinked a little.

    Eliot groaned, ¡°No no, stupid fucking¡­ mind shit. Fuck.¡±

    Isoko yelled, ¡°Where the FUCK did they come from?!¡±

    David said, ¡°Listen up.¡±

    All eyes turned toward David.

    David had several goblin heads sitting on the ground around him, and also Lisa and Juan¡¯s heads still in his hands.

    Mark felt his stomach drop.

    David said, ¡°The goblins have been observing us for the last hour, but they have been in the area for days now.

    ¡°The goblins infected a hive mind spider and colony. This was in the briefing. You all should have been wary of possible Mind Powers.

    ¡°This sort of shit is normal out there in the wilds.

    ¡°You will meet problems like this in the future, and especially among goblin populations. If they didn¡¯t view humanity as food and Power sources, then perhaps they could be reasoned with, but they are what they are, and we are what we are, and so, they cannot be reasoned with, ever. They will always attack, and you will always kill them whenever you can.

    ¡°Things like this are why people stay in walled cities as much as possible, and why those who hunt monsters are respected and valued, and never killed, unless they are killers themselves.

    ¡°Mind powers like this are pretty normal among monsters. Hive Mind being the most common one. I would classify this particular variant as ¡®Mind Nudge¡¯. Power Level 35, max. Mind Control is exceedingly rare, and almost never shows up among the monsters. It is mostly a human thing.

    ¡°Isoko,¡± David said, as he looked toward the girl. Isoko seemed worried, but then again, who wasn¡¯t. David said, ¡°You would have been immune to their Mind Nudge if Mark had been connected to you and passively buffing you just as he already was. You will rise above being susceptible to this when you get past tier 3, and enter tier 4. That said, the goblins specifically waited for you to remove yourself from Mark¡¯s buffing, and they correctly guessed that you would try that, because you looked like you were getting bored with easy kills.

    ¡°Mark. You should have been immune to their Mind Nudge if you were focused on resilience against mind effects. As it was, you were just somewhat immune. They took a chance when they decided to attack, because they saw openings and they had to take them.

    ¡°Eliot. I have no notes for you. You did everything well, but you¡¯ll always be weak toward mind stuff; it is your main weakness. In a normal mission, you would have a circlet of clear mind, at least.¡± David dropped the heads onto the ground with the rest of the pile, and left them there. ¡°Also, all of you were talking about skills and shit out in the open. I won¡¯t blame you for that; not overly so. But you shouldn¡¯t do that in a normal monster hunt, for variants like these two goblins show up all the time. Keep that sort of talk hidden behind walls. Ideally, you all would have helmets that could keep your voices to yourselves.¡±

    Mark was already frantically adding the idea of resilience against Mind Powers to his ideas of Union, along with removing the weakness of being affected by Mind Powers.

    The full brush of the danger they were in revealed itself in a rush of blue light all throughout the vision of the scanners. Blue light lingered all over the street. Everywhere, really. In the windows, on the edges of rooftops, and by the bodies of the fallen wyvern dogs.

    Mark saw bites taken out of the wyvern dogs. Those bites had not been there before.

    David continued, ¡°In light of this development, and your discovery of it, I¡¯m declaring that your illuminated offer of peace is good enough. Only the most idiotic of sponsors would ever demand more of you past this point, and any such sponsor should be ignored completely if they would continue to suggest such a requirement. Except in the most extraordinary of circumstances ¡ªof which this is NOT¡ª such a person would be considered under mind control themselves, and should be quarantined.

    ¡°This is now an absolute extermination mission. They¡¯ll come at us at night, at full strength with dark to cloak them, and we need proper defenses.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to base.¡±

    Isoko started running, her face solid with focus. Eliot followed, looking a bit panicky.

    Mark took up the rear, feeling uneasy.

    David moved with an easy walk, letting everyone get far ahead of him, and then he reappeared in front of everyone, before he reappeared to the side. He was looking at everything, but also not really looking at anything at all.

    Blue was everywhere on the scanners, and Mark was absolutely sure that he saw goblin heads duck down behind broken windows here and there. Mark thought that the goblins might be especially wary of David, but more than willing to attack him, Isoko, and Eliot, if they could. Which was just insane of them. But they didn¡¯t care about losses, did they. They could always make more goblins.

    Mark and his people reached the base.

    The base had some blue markings on the walls and going up the stairs, but the goblins had not breached the interior. They hadn¡¯t even gotten near the doors, and there were no openings for them to get inside any other way.

    Eliot easily opened the doors, into the bright lights of the central room of the base¡ª

    Isoko rushed ahead. ¡°Let me check!¡±

    Isoko got into the room. She looked around.

    Eliot looked panicky again. He busied himself with smoothing out the walls of the place, making them sheer surfaces, only for his eyes to go wide when he saw where little goblin hands had gripped onto the rock, preventing those parts from being affected by Man-made Manipulation.

    Mark calmed himself and he tried to calm Eliot, too, breathing out the bad and taking in the good¡ª

    ¡°Clear!¡± Isoko said, inside the place.

    Eliot went inside, saying, ¡°Thank the gods!¡± He couldn¡¯t wait for everyone to get inside before he exclaimed, ¡°FUCKING HELL?! Mind goblins?!¡±

    Mark went inside and David followed, closing the door behind them.

    Eliot was already rushing toward his scanning machine. He got to it, and then paused.

    Mark saw that the screen was flickering weirdly. All of the screens on the security guard wall were being weird, too.

    Eliot exclaimed, ¡°FUCK! They broke it¡ª¡± He pulled back and declared, ¡°I can fix this! I can fix this, for sure.¡± He started flowing parts out from a hole in the floor.

    Isoko chuckled nervously. ¡°Ahh! Good news; you can fix it!¡± She muttered, ¡°They broke it that easily, though?¡±

    Eliot said nothing.

    David spoke up, ¡°The other good news is that we won¡¯t have to seek out the goblins. They will come here to attack us. The only thing you have to figure out is how to kill them all. Honestly, that was your main plan anyway, and now they have no element of surprise. So this is good.¡±

    Silence.

    Mark clapped his hands. ¡°Yup! This is good! Love a clear mission! Kill the goblins.¡±

    Isoko and Eliot had a moment.

    And then Isoko asked Eliot, ¡°Can you make spears on wire that I can throw and pull back from the roof?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I can do that. I need to make traps out there on the other nearby buildings, so I¡¯ll need you to get some practice throwing against the far buildings. Are you able to Tactile Telekinesis yet?¡±

    ¡°Not fully, but I¡¯m hoping to get there fast.¡±

    Mark started breathing in sustenance and breathing out deprivation, including the monster tree in the Union, while his heart pulsed resilience and weakness to and from his party, and also David. He asked David, ¡°How do you do detection with Union? I can generally tell the distance out there to that giant tree, but I haven¡¯t been able to figure out actual detection yet?¡±

    David said, ¡°I can¡¯t help you with that. I have the power gifted to me; I don¡¯t know how it actually works. I can just feel where my astral body touches. Can you do the same?¡±

    Mark frowned a little, trying to sense what he could.

    Once, on his first day at Healing Club, Mark had been able to ¡®see¡¯ the threads that made up his astral body. They had appeared to him even when his eyes were closed. He hadn¡¯t been able to replicate that situation since then. He had needed visual clarity to a target, or at least to know where a target was, first. He hadn¡¯t been able to target anything when he didn¡¯t know where it was¡­

    Oh.

    Wait.

    There was a bank of screens over there, that security guard station.

    ¡­ Mark wanted something better.

    Mark said, ¡°Eliot. I need a holodisplay of the nearby scan for goblins, please. In the middle of the room.¡±

    Eliot perked up. ¡°Good idea! Much better than all the cameras.¡±

    David said, ¡°I like the cameras.¡±

    Somehow Mark felt safer with David making jokes.

 067

    The base was 3 stories tall, maybe 10 meters square, with merlons rising around the top like square teeth. A few different scanning towers rose here and there upon that roof, all of them covered in glass and stone to make them harder to destroy. Basic gun turrets, that were more like rock slingers, held on the edges of the tower, all of them with clear lines of sight to ground, to the kill zones that Eliot had set up in the dry moat that surrounded the place. Every square foot of space out there had tall, sharp pyramids of stone, for 10 meters in every direction.

    ¡°Why pyramids?¡± Mark asked. ¡°Why not spikes?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Because goblins will break stone spikes with a hammer, or just kick them over, thus removing the purpose of the trap zone, which is to keep them slow and injure them. The pyramids are 2/3rd¡¯s as tall as they are, so they¡¯re a good hindrance, and people only do spikes when they have no time or ability to make real defenses. I have the time and the ability to make real defenses.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°They¡¯ll just sacrifice comrades to make a bridge, right? And that¡¯s PL0 stone. They won¡¯t give a shit about it?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I can make them give a shit about it?¡±

    Eliot breathed in, and said, ¡°All true.¡±

    David just watched.

    The north and south towers that abutted the main tower each had laser turrets that could blind and disorient the goblins. They were pretty basic, though. Nothing special.

    ¡°I have no real power sources, either, so I can¡¯t do more than blind them with some automatic targeting software,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Not much more than that, anyway.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll recover fast, since it¡¯s just light?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°Ultraviolet light, so it will burn out their eyes while keeping their eyes dilated with the dark,¡± Eliot said, ¡°If I could support a lot of those, I would. They have good track records against monsters in the dark that can¡¯t see ultraviolet. Goblins can see ultraviolet, but not very good. Basic spotlights will also be used to disorient.¡±

    Eliot had taken down the bridges leading to the central tower, as well as part of the wall that led to the south, leaving the northern sides covered by the tree. Perhaps the tree would not like the goblins getting close? And be a good killer in that direction? Hard to know!

    And here, in the tower, in the center of Eliot¡¯s defenses, was a detailed holomap rising from the stone, in full color, with blue dots everywhere. Those blue dots were goblins.

    Mark could not feel everything out there through Union. Not yet.

    But he could certainly connect to stuff he could not see. To the weeds and small trees growing in the buildings all around, the monster tree over there, the monster fish in the crater lake in the other direction, and even the goblins hiding out in the nearby buildings. He didn¡¯t have the range to get many of them, for there were hundreds out there and they were staying back, but he was able to reach out and touch some of them, now that he could tell where they were.

    He knew he missed some.

    He couldn¡¯t tell where things were out there. Not yet.

    Mark looked at a nearby clump of 120-ish blue dots, and then at the other clumps out there. ¡°They¡¯re planning how they¡¯re going to attack, aren¡¯t they.¡±

    Isoko was quiet. She looked frustrated. All she had was herself and her Platinum Body; it was barely any use at all against the goblins. She¡¯d still be upstairs throwing rocks. Between her and Eliot, they had decided that she was not going to be throwing steel, because they needed that steel, and they didn¡¯t want the goblins to have it, to use it against them.

    Eliot was concentrating on making power sources for his various electronics. Batteries came together below, in thick stacks, beyond a pane of thick glass that allowed Eliot to look and focus on what he was doing. He was up to battery tower #4 now. The other 3 towers were all lit with lights, alongside a computer bank that would run the automated defense systems.

    David said, ¡°They¡¯re doing more than planning how to attack. They¡¯re also organizing themselves into tribes. This happens when the goblins get advanced. Looks like we have at least 4 or 5 goblin leaders now. One of them is the corrupter goblin.¡± David pointed at the largest clump of goblins, far back from the rest, almost inside the toxic yellow slime area of the Vatican. ¡°Probably that one.¡± David continued, ¡°The goblins were watching us for a while, probably using hive mind capable goblins to communicate what they know about us to other goblins. Not everything, though. Goblins are monsters, but they¡¯re also a people. They will communicate with each other just enough so that what they learn fighting us is not lost, but they want the Powers that we have for themselves. They want to be the ones to get to us, not their fellow tribesmen.

    ¡°Near as I can tell, some of them are hive mind capable, and high level blending capable. Those two Mind Nudge goblins that I killed likely went through the Monster Tutorial. They had actual Powers. There might be another 2 or 3 mind goblins with the same sorts of Powers, a bunch of Hive Mind goblins, then there¡¯s the corrupter goblin at the heart of it all.

    ¡°How these things usually go is that the people in this situation here, even if they have defenses like we have here, will be taken by the goblins. It¡¯s just a matter of time.¡±

    Silence.

    Contemplation.

    Mark said, ¡°Their unwillingness to tell the other tribes our strategies is a weakness that we can exploit for a while, but not forever. All of our tactics will eventually get found out.¡±

    David did not answer.

    Isoko said, ¡°Yes, but we still have more Power per person than them. We only die if we get overwhelmed.¡±

    Eliot spoke up, ¡°They¡¯ll come at us in waves, throwing 50% of their forces at us while the other 50% go hunting monsters to make more of their kind. Those that die will teach those that survive, and eventually they¡¯ll commit to an attack that they believe they will win.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°That is the reason that normal city defense tactics are turrets on the walls and roaming groups of monster hunters out in the wilds. So¡­ we need to funnel them. The spiked ground is good. I need to be out there with a weapon, and protected by you, Mark, while I fix problem spots in our defenses and defend the turrets.¡±

    Down in the melee?

    Mark frowned at that, but it was the probable best way to do this. He looked at Isoko with his scanner glasses, as his heart beat with a Union of resilience and weakness. With a tap to the button at the side of the glasses, the scan changed from goblin recognition to human scanning. Isoko glittered with an outline of a high tier 3 Body, and everything else. Mark focused more, and Isoko¡¯s base scan glittered stronger. High tier 3 became low tier 4.

    Isoko stood a bit straighter. She looked to Mark, and her Platinum Body practically shimmered as it strengthened, and she became high tier 4. Almost tier 5.

    Mark asked, ¡°How you feel?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I know I can¡¯t keep this up forever. Can you?¡±

    ¡°For a while, but not forever. I need to constantly breathe in and out sustenance and deprivation, too, otherwise you¡¯re just going to faint of exhaustion; we all will. And you don¡¯t have a good weapon to go against the goblins. Steel will bend.¡±

    ¡°I need to learn better Tactile Telekinesis, anyway,¡± Isoko said, as she looked to Eliot. ¡°The mace is too hard to work. Too big. I need a sword. Thin and strong.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°You need a radio, too.¡±

    ¡°And a radio, too,¡± Isoko added.

    Eliot crafted a radio out of a headset and a new pair of scanning glasses, as he asked, ¡°Katana, longsword, rapier?¡±

    ¡°Rapier, probably,¡± Isoko said, as she put on the new scanner/radio. ¡°Can you do an estoc? It¡¯s the same but a bit thicker. And a buckler.¡±

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    ¡°I know estocs,¡± Eliot said, pulling out steel from a hole that led to the first floor. Within several seconds, he had two thin swords, a belt, and a small, round shield that could be braced onto an arm. ¡°That¡¯s the best I can do with normal steel.¡±

    Isoko strapped the shield on and started waving around the sword, as she said, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I¡¯ll make extra.¡±

    Mark asked Isoko, ¡°You want me to leave the goblins around you alone? Or down them so you can stomp them and move on?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Stomping. I¡¯m hoping to poke brains and that¡¯ll be enough to kill. Some goblins can heal when they eat the dead, but the dead can¡¯t heal themselves at all, and that will have to be enough.¡±

    Mark breathed in, preparing to say something he really didn¡¯t want to say. ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill goblins through Union. Lola told me a few different ways, but I haven¡¯t done them yet because¡­¡± Mark didn¡¯t want to say that it scared him to kill with Union, that it scared him to take something good and protective and that he used to help people all the time, and to use it as a weapon. So he didn¡¯t talk about that. He asked, ¡°Where do you want me to kill them?¡±

    Isoko and Eliot were silent. They were probably having similar thoughts¡­ Or maybe they were thinking of something completely different.

    David just watched.

    Isoko said, ¡°The stragglers. We don¡¯t want anyone running and regrouping¡ª Better than that, the hive minds. If you and Eliot can figure out where the hive mind goblins are, then kill them from afar.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Okay. Then¡­¡±

    He looked to the holographic display of the nearest 500 meters, and the blue dots circling and moving in. A lot of them were already within range, but Mark wasn¡¯t confident he could kill them from here and he didn¡¯t want to start the attack early. The nearest group was stopped about 30 meters outside of the wall that surrounded the tower. They were inside a building near a road that led straight to the tower walls.

    They were going to start.

    Planning time was over.

    Mark said, ¡°Then I think we''re as ready as we can be.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I¡¯m almost done with battery 6. I¡¯ve used up most of our supplies, but I can repair the eye-burning turrets a few times. The stone slingers will mostly be a deterrent, and not much of one. We¡¯re set for power and defense¡­ but when they get here I won¡¯t be able to change the land out there at all. Not after they touch it. Anything the goblins touch falls out of my ability to Manipulate.¡±

    Mark had an idea. ¡°Can you adjust this holo display to highlight which turrets upstairs are burning eyes? I want to be able to weaken those goblins specifically, so you can actually burn them.¡±

    Eliot frowned as he looked at the holo display. ¡°¡­ I think I can. Yeah. Should be able to. The systems are on automatic targeting, but I can feed the automation into the display.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°How about sound makers, too?¡±

    Eliot laughed suddenly. ¡°Yeah. I can do directed sound attacks. I can¡¯t believe I forgot about that¡­¡± He lost his mirth. ¡°I¡¯m probably forgetting a lot.¡±

    A quiet contemplation filled the room, as Mark stared at the holo display, feeling out the world with Union, Eliot¡¯s fingers hovered over an invisible keyboard, and Isoko held her estoc tightly, as she poked the ground. Mark glanced over to see Isoko poking the tip of the sword into the stone, like slipping a knife into hard-packed dirt, except the dirt crinkled and broke into tiny stone shards. It made a grinding sort of noise. With a flick of her hand, she drew half of a line through the stone, but then the estoc caught. The steel scraped and broke off at the tip, and Isoko frowned.

    She had been testing her TT, and it had failed somewhere in there.

    Eliot reached out and silently fixed both the stone and the estoc.

    Isoko looked frustrated that her attempts at tactile telekinesis were¡­ not great. But she was ready for battle.

    David startled them as he spoke, ¡°My professional opinion is that this plan is going to work, until it doesn¡¯t. When that happens I will rescue all of you and pull you out, away from this location, and then we will begin a counter assault, or flee. That final outcome depends on your personal choices between now and then.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°What do we need to change to make this a stable plan?¡±

    David said, ¡°This is a learning experience and the goblins are about ready to attack. I¡¯ll give you tips later.¡±

    Mark winced. They were forgetting something painfully obvious, weren¡¯t they.

    What was it?

    Funneling the goblins? Check. There was one main path from the south and they¡¯d probably come from the north, just because they wanted to avoid the main path. But that was by the tree. The goblins were avoiding the tree, though, because it was obviously a monster tree.

    Trap the land? Check. The stone pyramid ground wouldn¡¯t last forever, but it would hinder them.

    Turrets? Check. They wouldn¡¯t last forever, either. The lasers could fire forever, though, as long as they weren¡¯t targeted by monsters, but Eliot had set up ablative glass enclosures for them that would stop simple rock throws, and those could be removed and replaced by Isoko, or even Mark if Isoko was busy.

    Weapons? Check. As much as could be checked, anyway. Mark didn¡¯t have more than a grain of adamantium inside of his body, so he couldn¡¯t use that against the enemies, and even if he could he wasn¡¯t strong enough to wield it. He needed to be practically tier 8 to pick up more than the few grains of adamantium inside his body, to use them, and he wasn¡¯t anywhere near that.

    All they had was steel and Isoko¡¯s unrealized tactile telekinesis¡ª

    Wait.

    Mark felt a cold sweat as he thought about weapons made of monster parts that had naturally high Body ratings, and otherwise. His adamantium was grown inside his own blood and it was a fantastic magical weapon. They used monster parts all the time as weapons over on Daihoon, too!

    Mark blurted out, ¡°Should we have grabbed those wyvern bones to use as weapons?¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyes went super wide¡ª

    Eliot said, ¡°No. Monster parts make good weapons over on Daihoon, but on Earth they rapidly degrade due to soul-leaving the body or some shit like that. It¡¯s a Veil-thing. We similarly don¡¯t have to worry about monsters making weapons out of bones, or anything like that.¡± Eliot chuckled. ¡°Gods. Could you imagine if monster parts worked like that over here?¡±

    Mark had a surreal moment. ¡°But¡ª¡±

    Eliot snapped, ¡°We don¡¯t have to worry about that!¡±

    Mark paused.

    Isoko looked at Eliot.

    Eliot breathed, then said, ¡°Sorry. I¡­ I hate mind monsters.¡±

    A moment they didn¡¯t have stretched a bit long.

    David said, ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about monster-part weapons here in this scenario, Mark, Isoko. They¡¯re actually really rare. Even on Daihoon. You need to prepare the monster before you kill it in order to make weapons out of it. Most stuff, even on Daihoon, degrades down to somewhere between Power Level 1 to 15. On Earth the degradation is all the way to PL 0. There are some big exceptions to this, most notably the magical metals, certain stones and crystals, all elemental-core-touched items, and most heartwood from monster trees. Wyvern dog bones and most monster parts would not make good weapons unless heavily treated, and the goblins here will be dead long before they progress to industry.¡±

    As David spoke, Mark felt more secure. Isoko looked calmer as well.

    Eliot said, ¡°Yeah. All that.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ve decided to get on the ground. Mark; You can defend the turrets. Eliot; Can you turn the slope at the base of the tower into something thicker, with a flat surface a few meters wide at the top that I can fight on? I don¡¯t want them tunneling into the stone and I need a surface down there to fight on.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Sure.¡± He looked to Isoko. ¡°I¡¯ll make a switchback at the north tower that you can guard, and use to come up and down.¡±

    Isoko nodded¡ª

    She glanced at the holo display. Everyone did. The blue dots at a southern group were moving this way. They were moving toward the big gap in the wall that Eliot had left, on purpose.

    Isoko steeled herself, which was really just platinuming herself, and said, ¡°I¡¯ll deploy from the roof and prepare to meet the enemy on foot.¡± And then she asked David, ¡°Am I immune to the goblin curse? Or does Mark need to do something special to clean that away?¡±

    David looked to Mark.

    Mark was already saying, ¡°Purity/impurity breathing with a focus on astral body tainting. It cleans up real fast, but it piles up fast, too. If you take a wound say something, otherwise I will be cycling purity/impurity every few minutes. They shouldn¡¯t be able to touch you except through exhaustion, anyway, and they can¡¯t hurt you through normal weapons. They have to bite you, Isoko. They¡¯re PL 25, at the most, going up against PL 35, at the least; teeth and claws against bio-platinum, so¡­ You tell me if you¡¯re safe or not.¡±

    David nodded.

    Eliot nervously looked at the goblins coming from the south.

    Isoko was looking more and more confident by the moment. She grinned. ¡°I can fight all day long with a good healer at my back.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. He was already breathing in sustenance and breathing out deprivation. ¡°You got one of those.¡±

    Eliot made himself smile, and then he stood up and hovered some cameras around them, saying, ¡°So here we are! On our training mission! Gonna kill goblins that wouldn¡¯t accept peace talks; you know how it goes. Platinum Princess is getting ready to break gobbo skulls and Blackvein is getting ready to make hearts explode! Let¡¯s get this completion!¡± He held out a hand, straight ahead, palm flat and down.

    Mark rolled his shoulders, ignored the name Eliot had named him, and put a hand onto Eliot¡¯s. Isoko was there, too. It was a nice moment.

    Eliot raised his hand, saying, ¡°Go team human!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Go team human!¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Go team human!¡±

 068

    Mark stood off center of the base, toward the south. A wall held at his back and the holo display of the area floated in front of him. It was a mockup of the whole area.

    The tower was at the center, at around 10 meters wide. A stone ring encircled the tower, giving Isoko 4 meters of space to fight goblins upon, while the edge of the ring sloped toward the pyramidal-spiked ground. Ten meters of that rough terrain continued along to the walls, which were only 3 meters tall themselves. An entrance in the wall stood open at the south.

    The goblins hunted through the city just out of sight, just to the south. They spied from the windows of ruins. They lurked around broken corners, and under vines and bushes.

    The sky was golden with sunset, and deep blue on the eastern edge. The night lurked, like the goblins, their reflective eyes resembling faint stars in the gloom.

    On the holo display in front of Mark, the goblins looked like blue dots.

    On the night vision cameras, Mark saw them clearly.

    Big ears, big eyes, big teeth, tiny bodies. They looked almost like humans, but shrunken and violent. Some had noses, most did not. Mark had heard that some goblins cut off their noses so that they could bite better, so their noses would not get in the way. It probably wasn¡¯t true.

    ¡­ But some of the goblins were dripping blood from their nose areas.

    Mark had a great range on Union; 160 meters, if he was only going in one direction. 80 meters if he had to go in multiple directions at once. He easily covered the entire base. He easily reached the goblins, who were only 40 meters away. He didn¡¯t want them to think he had that good of a range, though.

    The goblins looked like they were talking.

    Mark turned up the volume on the sound sensors that Eliot had built on the roof. He heard goblins for the first time. Mostly, they were monsters. The goblins snarled. They chirped. They snapped and spat. They slapped at each other and giggled like gravel mixed in with the sounds of children.

    One of the blue dots behind the walls commanded, in full English, ¡°Go. Brats! Go. Get dinner!¡±

    Mark felt a chill.

    And then the smaller goblins in front started hissing, chittering, clicking. It was a horrible, nightmare sound, full of promised death and hateful, snapping teeth. It was also a laugh. A chortle. A good humor held in surety at the expectation of a good meal.

    The first goblins snuck forward, darting past bushes and under broken rocks that Eliot had scattered out there to give the goblins known approach vectors. That guy truly did study base construction, didn¡¯t he? Mark hadn¡¯t known exactly how good Eliot would be at all of this, but he showed his stuff, for sure.

    Eliot said, ¡°Entering blinding range. Auto-lasers activating.¡±

    The goblins peeked out into the night and were met with invisible light, slamming into their eyes.

    It was not impressive.

    The goblins blinked. Mark saw one or two rubbing their eyes, but they kept coming forward and¡ª

    It was a delayed reaction.

    The goblins started to huff and blink hard and shield their eyes from a sun that wasn¡¯t there. That seemed to help them some. They chittered at each other.

    One goblin behind the big rock poked at the ones in front of him, and when the ones in front just shielded their eyes and slapped behind themselves, not wanting to move forward, the one behind shoved those two forward, into the invisible light. Overhead, at the top of the base, the blinding, ultraviolet lasers tracked the exposed goblins perfectly, burning their eyes. One went down, screaming, covering his eyes. The other walked around, eyes wide, trying to see where he was going. He opened his eyes wider in the dark, in the gloom, and he went blinder faster. Other goblins laughed at the blind ones.

    And then they tried coming forward, shielding their eyes much better than those first two.

    Mark applied a Union to them, draining their resilience, imparting them with weakness. Just a little. Just to see what happened.

    Soon, any goblin who even partially looked up at the tower, at all, went blind almost instantly.

    The first goblin wave of 10 attackers ended before it got near the wall at all with every single goblin trying to rush forward and all of them going blind. They were all still alive. Mark kept them as batteries of resilience while feeding them weakness¡ª

    David told Mark, ¡°Kill them with Union, Mark. You need to make sure you know how.¡±

    Eliot whipped his head toward Mark. His flying cameras mirrored his movement.

    Mark winced, as he whispered, ¡°Fuck.¡±

    This was part of his training from Lola, that she had told him in secret and swore him to further secrecy.

    It was truly easy to kill something with Union, especially if you overpowered them in body size, or resources. Using the ideas of ¡®life¡¯ and ¡®death¡¯ did not actually work that well for killing something, but that¡¯s where most people went when they considered the idea. You could use ideas like that, sure. It just took a while to kill someone with that idea. Minutes. Days, sometimes, if they were big enough. You could kill a dragon by draining it to death, but it took a week. According to Lola, anyway, who had gotten that information from historical records on the fact, and who had no personal experience with that matter.

    There were other ideas that Inquisitors used when they truly needed to kill something, and those ideas worked way too well.

    ¡®Vein integrity¡¯, and ¡®vein decay.¡¯

    Mark breathed in ¡®vein integrity¡¯, taking all of that from a few of the goblins at a time, and then he breathed out ¡®vein decay¡¯, shoving that idea into them, into their veins.

    Goblins gasped and drowned in their own blood as it spilled out of every vein in their body, bruising them from the inside out. Some died seizing on the ground as aneurysms burst in their brains. Others gasped and coughed up blood as their lungs filled. Some lasted longer than others.

    It took two minutes to kill 10 baby goblins, but they were incapacitated long before that.

    All died, all went still.

    Mark frowned.

    He hated how easy it was to kill. It felt so wrong¡ª

    ¡°Good.¡± David nodded. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to do that against most enemies, but these ones are weak enough. Maybe a 5 in every category, across the board? You can make it more effective in the ways that Lola likely told you, and which I will not be repeating anywhere near cameras.¡±

    Eliot whispered, ¡°What the fuck did you do?¡±

    David answered, ¡°Freyalan Secret.¡±

    Eliot shut up and looked away.

    Mark knew how to make it more effective, for sure. He needed to drain their Body as far as it could drain, and he knew he hadn¡¯t been focusing on that, so that was an area that he could improve. He also could have¡ª

    Isoko spoke up on the radio, reminding Mark that she was still ¡®in the room¡¯ if she wasn¡¯t actually in the room at all. ¡°How difficult was that?¡±

    David tilted his head; Mark was free to answer that one.

    Mark said, ¡°I could have been a lot more effective with that one, in multiple ways. I didn¡¯t include you two in that, and I didn¡¯t include the big tree in it, either.¡± Mark went back to breathing in sustenance and breathing out deprivation. ¡°I also could have¡­¡±

    ¡­ And Mark should probably stop talking about it. Those goblins were weak; like David said at 5 in every category, or something like that. That was the only reason Mark had been able to kill them so easily.

    Mark had been at PL 33 in Union, tier 3, when he came out on this mission. He had likely gained some strength in that already. So maybe he was PL35. Union was already hard for people to notice when it was being used on them. All of that meant that those goblins had no way to truly notice or overcome his Union. So of course he could kill them with a simple weakening of vein integrity.

    It was pretty easy to accidentally kill a baseline with a Power use of any invasive kind, because baselines simply didn¡¯t have any astral body at all, like Mark, back when Lola put him in a coma at his and Addashield¡¯s request¡ª

    Mark shook his head a little. He said, ¡°Anyway. That¡¯s the first little group dead and killed. I can do that pretty easily to newborn goblins, Isoko. You¡¯ll have to contend with the full grown ones¡­¡± Mark caught movement on the map that wasn¡¯t just goblins milling around. One goblin started coming their way, and then another three followed, and soon the entire group was moving. Mark said, ¡°Here comes another group, this time from the south west.¡±

    Eliot stared at those blue dots as he typed at the air. He said, ¡°Two streets down, one house west. They¡¯re coming through the broken buildings.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°Can I get a heads up display of distant goblins, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot was surprised for a moment, and then he started typing furiously. ¡°Working on it right now. Let me know when you can see it¡ª¡±

    ¡°There,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°Good,¡± Eliot said, ¡°I added another button to the side of your glasses. It will toggle between distant and near, and automatically revert to close when a goblin is within 20 meters.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Eliot.¡±

    Mark knew they were forgetting things. Eliot and Isoko knew it, too. The problem, Mark suspected, was that Eliot had a vast, vast library of knowledge to pull from for base defense, but he had never really done this before. Not in person, and certainly not with only a few hours of prep time. There were probably better ways to defend a location that would completely solve their problems, but all they had was Eliot and his limited, yet vast, ability to make things, and the restriction that as soon as those things were touched by monsters, they became unchangeable, or they simply broke.

    But a glut of resources and options was a better problem to have than a dearth of the same.

    Mark studied the holo display, watching as the goblins crawled through the buildings. It was a whole pack of them, a whole little tribe. Maybe 25 of them¡ª

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Eliot said, ¡°Movement in the northwest, too. They¡¯re coming down that street, too. 27 in the south, and 34 in the northwest.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°Can you get a scan on them, Eliot? Actual Power Levels?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°They¡¯re pretty much the same; newborns at tier 1 and a few older ones at tier 2.¡±

    ¡°I imagine I should go to the north?¡± Isoko asked.

    Mark said, ¡°Wait to adjust location, Isoko. Let¡¯s see how many they send for us and that we can take out before they reach us. I¡¯ll go after the northern one first.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Isoko said, sounding a bit relieved and yet tense in a completely different way.

    The goblins came in twos and threes, skulking through the twilight, and the deepening night.

    Mark saw them all, but only because of the scanners, and the display, and the camera feeds to the side. Gradually, imperceptibly, he connected to them all. It was not easy. Mark stretched his astral body to the limit, to try and connect to way too many individual beings at once. They all had different heart rates. They all had different breathing rates.

    But just as Badaira had shown Mark at Sparring Club, when she had the entire Healing Club start to fall into rhythm with itself, as a whole, instead of all breathing or beating together, Mark fell into sync with the whole advancing goblin tribe from the north. In a flash of insight, Mark realized that the goblins and the humans were two halves to a whole, both sides aimed right at each other. And Mark connected.

    If they noticed him, they didn¡¯t alter their movements or their approaches.

    In those small groups, Mark breathed in all of their vein integrity, and gave them all vein decay in the return breath, while simultaneously beating his heart with a Union of resilience and weakness. He could not affect them all. He could not stretch himself that far. But it was enough to start.

    Burst veins in heads and lungs did a number on anyone.

    The small ones, the young ones, took 3 breaths each to falter and fall, but even just one breath was enough to inflict a young one with hacking, blood-filled coughs.

    A very large goblin, with strange blue coloring, located in the back of the northwest group, took 13 breaths to kill, which was nearly 25 seconds, but it was the most important one to kill, Mark assumed. This proved to be maybe-true, for the northwest group fell apart as soon as that one died. They blinked, they looked at each other, and they started splitting off from the fight, snapping at each other as they yelped/roared.

    Mark had killed a Hive Mind goblin, and he realized it instantly both in the way that the group fell apart, and how his Union frayed here and there. The Hive Mind goblin had been gathering up his people into one group, and making it easy to bring them into a Union.

    Mark reconnected, but the goblins had reached the wall by then.

    The southern goblins had already reached the opening in the wall, where the stone-spike-pyramid moat began. The lasers kept them behind those walls, and behind those boulders that Eliot had put out there, but they were already learning to shield their eyes¡ª

    Mark realized he should, instead of using just the 4 of himself, David, Isoko, and Eliot, to overpower the groups, he should use the biggest life out there, the monster tree, to truly crush the goblin packs¡­

    But that might wake up the tree, turning it from sedentary and sentient to active and sapient, so Mark put that idea to the side, for emergencies, and decided to use 15 of the northern goblins to kill the other 15.

    Mark switched gears, and the results were instantaneous and dramatic. Like switching a car from neutral to forward.

    Mark realized something very deep in that moment.

    Goblins worked together, but they were also in vast competition with each other, all the time.

    That innate competition was probably the only reason why Union was able to take the 15 Mark had grabbed and use their nature to crush the smaller group with the extra draw, the force of 19 bodies working against 15 bodies. Mark, his people, and 15 goblins, took all of the resilience and vein integrity of the other 15 goblins, and gave them back weakness and vein decay.

    One particularly weak goblin practically melted into a puddle of blood, all of his integrity leaving him, all at once.

    The goblins panicked, and then Mark switched the division of Union again, using 7 goblins and his own people to kill the other goblins. Rapidly, Mark went through the entire northwest grouping, killing them all to a goblin, destroying them before they even reached the walls.

    Half of the southern goblins had already raced across the stone pyramids, most of them able to navigate the pyramids by standing on the sharp tops and race across them, grinning and baring fangs all the while. Some faltered and fell, struck by lasers and missing a step on the pyramids, to fall, crashing and bleeding to the ground. The ones that stayed up laughed at the ones that fell, all while they shielded their eyes from the lasers.

    Isoko was fighting two big ones, her estoc slashing. She had already killed one big fuzzy-ish one, with big spider eyes.

    Mark fully switched to the southern incursion, ripping out their resilience and giving them weakness, focusing on the ones standing by Isoko first. Those ones faltered hard and Isoko rushed in with her estoc, stabbing the enemies in their brains and then kicking one body across the incursion, making it smack into its comrades.

    The southern incursion had a Hive Mind goblin, too. It was big, with blue markings, hanging out behind the boulder, outside of the wall, watching the whole fight and coordinating the whole thing.

    Mark left that one alone to make the killing easier.

    Mark focused half of the goblins in the back on the half that had passed the pyramid moat, popping them one after another, each breath making one of them spill out, into their own body and out of their mouth, nose, and even anus. Each kill took 2 seconds of inhaling and 2 seconds of exhaling. Mark kept eyes on the Hive Mind goblin most of all, and when that one looked like it was going to bolt, Mark switched to him, focusing everything on that one.

    The blue-striped goblin took two steps and fell onto his face, bleeding out internally.

    Cleanup took another minute, with Isoko cutting down three goblins before her estoc snapped and she cursed the blade.

    Mark switched to sustenance/deprivation breathing after the battle. The black veins coming from his body and filtering into the air never stopped beating with resilience and weakness.

    And then it was over.

    Mark sweated, so he breathed purity and impurity, making sure Isoko was okay. Had she taken any wounds at all? Mark didn¡¯t think so¡ª

    ¡°Holy gods,¡± Eliot exclaimed, as he surveyed the battlefield, making sure everything was dead. A drone dropped a new estoc to Isoko and she caught it as Eliot said, ¡°You killed most of them, Mark. That was amazing. Can you do more?¡±

    David asked, ¡°And yes; is that the extent of what you can do?¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the purity,¡± Isoko said, over the radio, as she flicked her new estoc through the air, testing it. ¡°They didn¡¯t get me, though.¡±

    Mark said to Isoko, ¡°Better safe than sorry.¡± He told his team and David, ¡°I could do more, but I don¡¯t want to involve the monster tree. I could wake it up. Other than that, I am stretched thin, here.¡±

    Isoko hummed in thought, on the radio.

    Eliot went wide-eyed, looking worried.

    David said, ¡°It¡¯s an okay limitation for now. You should expect to use the tree later. For now, stress yourself until you don¡¯t need to use the holographic crutch. I suggest you glance at the hologram for but a moment to find the general locations of the goblins out there, and then focus on the exterior to feel out how many bodies are in an area. Count the bodies you connect to, and then look at the hologram again. Learn how to find things without your eyes. I believe you¡¯ve tried to learn scouting in Healing Club.¡±

    Mark nodded. He had tried to learn how to scout with Union in Healing Club, yes, but he had never gotten far with it. It had never been this dangerous before, either.

    David moved on, looking at Eliot. ¡°Eliot. I suggest you consider things like frictionless coatings to make the environment more hazardous to the enemies. It¡¯s not a method that is useful most of the time, but carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen is everywhere out there, and hazardous terrain is always sometimes useful.¡±

    Eliot was already typing away at the air, focusing on the first floor below them, even before David finished. He muttered to himself, ¡°Fuck! I forgot about that! Would sticky bombs work¡ª No. I don¡¯t have enough materials for that. Ultraslick guns it is¡ª I should do acids, too, to clear up the bodies¡­ Acids that turn bodies into frictionless slime?¡± He looked off into the air, asking himself, ¡°Does such a thing even exist?¡±

    David was already speaking to Isoko on the radio, saying, ¡°Isoko. You¡¯ve done a fine job. Have you been able to feel that your Platinum Body can extend to your weapon? This is how you should be envisioning your tactile telekinesis.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ve gotten glints of that, but not much. I feel like I¡¯m missing something basic, and important.¡±

    David nodded. ¡°Consider that Platinum Body boosts all aspects of the 6 categories. Perhaps you might have an easier time thinking of your Body skill as less of a Body skill, and more of a ¡®whole being¡¯ skill.¡±

    There was a tiny breath on the other side of the radio.

    And then an, ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    Mark glanced at the camera that was trained on Isoko. He saw the moment when Isoko¡¯s estoc flickered to full-platinum, just like her skin.

    Isoko whispered again, ¡°Oh.¡±

    And then suddenly Isoko faltered, her skin fading to grey as she had to catch herself, almost fainting.

    Mark rapidly infused her with as much resilience as he could, taking away her weakness in turn and giving it to the world.

    Isoko breathed deep and righted herself, blinking out exhaustion, her skin turning back to full platinum.

    For a moment, Mark thought about a ¡®Union of Blinking¡¯, and then he filed that away for just a different type of ¡®dance¡¯ to use sometimes.

    Isoko whispered, ¡°Holy shit, that was¡­ A lot.¡±

    David grinned. ¡°I am a little surprised that no one told you about that yet, though.¡±

    ¡°Grandmother said the same thing but¡­¡± Isoko said, ¡°I never really got it. But I think I got it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Found it!¡± Eliot announced, laughing. ¡°New turret being made! I¡¯m going to dissolve those bodies out there and turn them into slippery goo.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°It won¡¯t affect me, will it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m making the anti-slip goo, too. I¡¯ll deploy that in sprayers near the tower; for use if needed¡ª Shit. Incoming from the west.¡±

    Mark watched as three more groups of goblins began to advance in from the west, all of them coming together, and yet separately. Maybe 50 goblins total in packs of 18-ish a piece. He started to focus in that direction, closing his eyes, ¡®seeing¡¯ if he could target them before they got close¡ª

    David told them all, ¡°Good first showing, everyone. Good improvement on designs. Keep it together. There¡¯s about 1,300 of them out there, but that number will only grow. It will never get smaller until we go out and start killing them directly, and it will only get worse when they decide to truly attack, in full force.¡±

    Mark cracked open his eyes and looked at the holo display.

    There was a lot of blue out there.

    David said, ¡°They will expect you to break, because everyone always does. If they came at us all at once, we would fall. But you can win this. You won¡¯t win this in a tower, but you¡¯ll figure it out. The nights will be the worst.¡±

    As new turrets went up on the roof, and plastics moved upward¡ª

    Eliot said, ¡°Oh shit fuck me. I should be using atmospheric CO2 condensers for more material.¡±

    David nodded. ¡°As I said: there is lots of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen out there.¡±

    Isoko flicked her sword outside of the bunker tower, the whole length of it flickering solid platinum with every stroke, and then fading back to plain steel after the cut. As she did that, she asked, ¡°Can I press buttons to make it count as ¡®human made¡¯, Eliot? I need something to do while waiting for them to show up.¡±

    All the blood drained from Eliot¡¯s face. He muttered, ¡°Ah. Yeah. Fuck. That helps a lot, too. I should have¡­ thought of that.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°City defense is a topic that takes 20 years to truly learn, Eliot, and you¡¯re new at this. Don¡¯t beat yourself up that much.¡±

    David grinned at that.

    Eliot relaxed. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess¡­ Thanks, Isoko. I¡¯ll put some buttons out there for you now.¡±

    On the cameras, some buttons appeared on the wall near Isoko.

    She pressed it, asking, ¡°That helps, right?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°That helps so very much, actually. It always counts as more ¡®human made¡¯ when other people make the stuff. Just¡­ hit the button whenever you want, please.¡±

    Mark looked to the sides of the room, on the third floor, where clear, foot-thick tubes were filling up with some sort of thick, honey-like clear-ish liquid, and frosting over at the same time. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what was going on with that, but those were probably the condensers condensing stuff from the atmosphere. That frost up there was sending clouds of vapor down to the first floor¡ª

    And then a barrier of glass appeared between the floors, blocking off this second floor from the top floor. Vents appeared in the walls, and cool air billowed through.

    Mark almost chuckled at that. ¡°I forgot to ask you for good ventilation. Thanks.¡±

    Eliot nodded.

    Mark got back to feeling out goblins.

 069

    Eliot was overwhelmed, but he wasn¡¯t in this alone, and he certainly never would have gotten this far without the others. He had been feeling overwhelmed for the last 4 hours, though, and the goblins hadn¡¯t gotten past any of their defenses, except for the outer wall.

    Watching a cohort of 120 goblins rush the walls, just out of sight, and dig into the base of the wall like it was nothing but particularly thick packing foam was a nightmare. They took down that wall like they were kids digging through dirt. And then the wall fell on top of them and Mark finished sweeping through them, dropping them one after the other. Eliot¡¯s slippery acids were already striking them, like grenades shot from turret guns, to splash everywhere and burn the bodies. It didn¡¯t work at all against the living, because the goblins were all PL 5 to 25 and the acids were PL 0, taken from the atmosphere and turned into materials to fire. But as soon as the goblins died they became PL 0, and the acids started to work. Goblin bodies began to turn to slippery, black sludge.

    It was midnight, now.

    The pyramid moat was absolutely filled with slippery black and clear fluids, the pyramids poking up like uniform stepping stones upon a black ocean. That ocean flowed outward in every direction, into the crater lake down the way, and all the way to the tree. The lake was dead now. The few monster fish inside of it had already flown off, back into the main Tiberranean river.

    Stray acid wouldn¡¯t have killed everything out there, if Eliot had been throwing it out there in normal quantities, but Eliot was practically raining acid out there. The tree seemed to love the slippery black goo, though. It was biodegradable, and would, in fact, become just a sludge of slippery polycarbons that became fertilizer after a few months.

    Some bones were more resistant than others, though, and those bones floated on the mess of a battlefield like white sticks in tar.

    And the goblins kept attacking.

    Sometimes the bigger, stronger goblins made it all the way past the turrets, past Mark, the oils not slipping them up at all, Mark unable to touch them for he was dealing with tens of goblins on his own, only to crash into Isoko.

    Eliot knew that they would have been lost without her, out there, in the thick of it.

    She danced when she could, killing monsters left right and center. Mostly, she rested, and she talked, and Eliot loved her suggestions, and her attitude.

    Isoko pressed the button on the wall next to her station out there, her platinum touch making all of Eliot¡¯s machinery work a whole lot better, as she asked over the radio, ¡°Flammable sticky napalm?¡±

    Eliot shook his head, though Isoko couldn¡¯t see that. ¡°No. That¡¯s the same problem as most of the suggestions.¡±

    ¡°Well yeah. It¡¯s still tier 0. But fire still hurts and also blinds.¡±

    Mark spoke up, ¡°It changes their breathing patterns too much.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Ahhh¡­ Not that one, then. I¡¯ll come up with a new one that works! Just you watch!¡±

    Eliot grinned¡ª And then he eyed the map, and saw a horde. ¡°Horde approaching from the west again. Looks like¡­ HOLY FUCK. 230?! ¡­ Wait.¡± His stomach dropped as he saw the movement of the dots, and he made some connections he did not want to make. ¡°Are they flying?!¡±

    Mark had his eyes half-closed, as he said, ¡°Mostly babies. They hit up a wyvern nest. I¡¯ll take out the fliers first.¡±

    Isoko looked to the sky, saying, ¡°I can¡¯t do shit against those fuckers.¡± She smiled, pressed the button faster, and said, ¡°Good luck, team!¡±

    Eliot refilled his machines as best he could.

    - - - -

    Isoko stood glittering in the spotlight.

    It was a very fancy spotlight, and Isoko looked very tempting under that brilliant light. All the goblins watching from the distant, dark rooftops, only had eyes for her. This was by design. Eliot wanted her to look good for the camera, and also so that the goblins would attack along a vector, aiming at the target left out in the open.

    As far as strategies went, it was a good one.

    Goblins were incredibly dangerous monsters, but they were also rather predictable based on their hierarchy of needs. They needed to reproduce, most of all, and so, they went after anything that might offer their next generation a good leg-up.

    Isoko was pretty sure they imagined platinum-skinned babies.

    Let them try.

    Isoko was not the one killing the most tonight, which was not how she envisioned her life as a hero, when she was a kid. Back then, she had thought she¡¯d be like grandmother, shaping the sky into blades to kill and rend on vast scales. Tornadoes. Storms. Minor hurricanes. Maybe lightning if she could get really good at sky shaping. But that¡¯s not what happened. Isoko had Platinum Body instead of Sky Shaper.

    She had hated Platinum Body.

    Looking back on it, on the months she had spent at Citadel, trying to get Chosen by Freyala, always wondering why she had not been Chosen yet, even though she was already tier 3¡­ She knew, now, why she hadn¡¯t been Chosen. She had not loved her Power. She had been resentful, hateful.

    Freyala didn¡¯t want that from her people.

    But here? Now?

    Isoko was starting to love Platinum Body.

    Isoko waited in the spotlight, pressing the button on the wall, as goblins fell out of the sky and dissolved in the ocean of clear acid, becoming black sludge. Other goblins raced across the tops of pyramids, aiming right for her. Many of those died, too. Mark was working overtime, doing The Most, as was his lot in life.

    And Isoko was taking out the trash.

    She stopped pressing the button for two seconds and the lights in the area flashed wide, illuminating her battleground stage up ahead, like a platform sticking out of the ground by just a meter. She slid down a short runway to that platform, her platinum feet skidding on the stone, and then sounding out tap, tap, tap, as she walked to the center of the platform.

    She awaited her enemies.

    Isoko hadn¡¯t really gotten in touch with her Platinum Body before tonight, before this trial, before Inquisitor David had reiterated a lesson from Wandering Sage, from grandma, that Isoko hadn¡¯t really understood until that repetition. Platinum Body encompassed the entire spectrum of Powers; Body, Kinetic, Mind, Natural, Soul, and Arch. It was still very much a Body Power. But it gave her strength in every single category. It meant she was able to defend in every category, but it was more than that.

    She wasn¡¯t sure how much more.

    But she was learning.

    The goblins came for her, leaping out of the black moat of pyramids and acid, slobbering and salivating with maws open wide.

    Isoko danced.

    She wasn¡¯t sure why she danced, but it was probably due to Mark. He was here with her, right now, coordinating the entire battle in his Union. She was herself, but she was also an instrument of death. This is probably what it felt like to be truly Chosen by Freyala, and Isoko absolutely loved it.

    She spun, decapitating a goblin and then kicking its body into another, sending them both into the acid.

    She twisted, her empty hand carving through fangs and face alike, sending the body spinning outward.

    She leapt and carved, her sword flickering full platinum, bisecting two goblins without stopping at all. It was like cutting through air.

    She landed on a goblin¡¯s head, smashing it, breaking its neck and body.

    A twist and a spin completed the dance, killing four more goblins who seemed to leap right into her sword, right where they needed to be.

    And then the battle was over.

    Isoko kicked the dead goblins on the platform into the acid, where Eliot promptly targeted them with more of those acid guns of his, and they started to dissolve much faster. He also sprayed the platform, and Isoko, and Isoko¡¯s button-pressing area with anti-acid stuff. It tasted terrible, but Mark was on the job, and soon she was purified of all possible problems, and that included the taste in her mouth and the orange oils on her body.

    She walked up the stairs, not slipping at all.

    Isoko got back to her button and started pressing it again, smiling, as she checked her visor and found all the enemies dead and dissolving in the clear acid that rested atop the black ocean. ¡°So that was really good, wasn¡¯t it!¡±

    ¡°It was good, yes,¡± Eliot said, ¡°The waves are getting bigger, though. There¡¯s 400 massing about half a kilometer to the north.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°You¡¯ve made a getaway plane yet?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I got the parts. Assembling can take a minute. I¡¯m clearing off some stuff that got damaged by fliers now.¡±

    Something loud crashed to the right, and Isoko nearly jumped, but she saw the splashdown of a turret and she laughed at it instead. She breathed a bit, and then calmed.

    Isoko gestured at the turret with her sword. ¡°They got past you both, huh?¡±

    ¡°Two of them did,¡± Eliot said, ¡°It was enough to ruin one machine. I won¡¯t put the parts up there for them to get destroyed in the same way."

    Isoko nodded. Soon, the real battle would start.

    Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s a group of 418, but it¡¯s also 40% of what they have left. We will survive this.¡±

    Isoko grinned as she pressed the button on the wall and looked up at the night sky.

    Beyond the spotlights, and the lights trained on the sky, and all of the illuminated land around them, the sky was black and dotted with stars. The moon positively glowed up there, in the sky; a ball of platinum inscribed in glowing gold. The Demon City of Arakino.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Isoko thought, for a moment, about demons, and what demons could do for a person.

    As one of the demon¡¯s lesser-regarded, but still important abilities, when a demon linked to a person, that person gained an astral body that was strong in all respects.

    Just like Isoko¡¯s Platinum Body.

    Isoko had never really thought about her Platinum Body in that way, but maybe¡­ Maybe she should have thought about it like that. Like she was truly strong. She flicked her estoc through the air and it turned platinum in a down stroke, easily carving several inches into the stone at her feet.

    She grinned as the gash in the stone healed over.

    Eliot was on the job, and Mark was, too.

    - - - -

    Mark abandoned all pretense at careful killing when 418 goblins came for them from every direction, except for the slice of the north where the big tree grew.

    With eyes closed, he sifted through the sky, linking to every heartbeat out there, and swaths of goblins died. The weakest first. The strongest next. The fliers fell from the sky and the strong ones faltered into acid baths. Blood turned to slick and goblins rushed over their falling fellows to get traction, to reach the base.

    Mark became the wind, held to his body with the barest of tethers.

    He tapped into the big tree and pulsed with life, drawing in all the goblins near the tree, and then elsewhere. The tree groaned as it grew fast on the lives Mark reaped from the horde. Bark healed over, and goblins died faster and faster.

    The horde died and the tree gained half as much height as it already had, twisting into the sky with roots flickering out into the waters, into the goblin horde, grabbing them and drawing them deep. It even started to grab the living goblins. The north became a death zone, doing A Lot to protect the tower, but soon the tree would encroach on the tower, and become A Problem.

    Mark cut off his connection to the tree when the tree started to grow directly toward the tower.

    418 goblins had been reduced to 65 by then. They had reached the moat. They were aiming at Isoko. Isoko stared back at them from her platform where she danced, cutting them down. Mark was one with the air, with the Union of it all, and the goblins died. He helped Isoko when he could, but mostly he killed goblins, which was exactly what everyone was doing as much as they could.

    Ten minutes after the combat started, it was over and the humans had won.

    Mark blinked as he came back to himself, though he couldn¡¯t hear very well and he couldn¡¯t see very well, either. He breathed in the good, and exhaled the bad, his astral veins pulsing hard, black miasma threading away from him, like shadows clearing, and soon he could see again.

    Mark blinked some more and looked down at the holo display, and at the world around him. The bunker was safe, right? Yeah. All the walls were intact, and the lights were on, and David was there by Eliot, who was fixing up some machines that had turned red on the display. Some goblins had gotten through, onto the roof.

    Mark looked out at the cameras and saw Isoko on the roof, kicking a goblin away. For a moment, he thought he should have felt panic, but he was too relaxed right now. Too worn thin. He asked, ¡°So some goblins got to the machines? We still okay?¡±

    Eliot looked at Mark strangely.

    Isoko chuckled. ¡°You sound kinda threadbare there, Mark. You doing okay?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I think I am. I think I woke the tree up, too.¡± And then the truth of that statement slammed into his mind, as he fully woke up, as well. ¡°Oh shit. I woke up the tree. Is it growing toward us?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Yes, but it stopped. I don¡¯t think you can use it again, Mark. It¡¯s already tapping at our base.¡± He changed the holo display to show the red roots of the tree. Two really big roots were already growing this way. ¡°Those two roots weren¡¯t there half an hour ago. It knows we¡¯re here.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°They¡¯re down to something like 500 goblins, right? Should we counter attack before they can replenish their numbers? Will they attack with only 500 left?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure about any of that. He said, ¡°If they come at us with newborns I can kill them without using the tree. The problem is the older ones who get up to a higher Power Level. It takes concentration to kill those ones.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I could rebuild away from the tree in the morning¡­ Though maybe not. Look.¡±

    Eliot flicked the map, and the map changed.

    Everywhere nearby was tainted with some sort of color. Mostly goblin-blue. A bit of red for the wyverns. Green for the tree and to a remarkable distance, far beyond the underside of the tower and even a good hundred meters to the south. That thing¡­ Mark had mostly awoken it. Damn.

    Eliot said, ¡°There¡¯s almost no place to build, inside of a kilometer. If we leave the base then we risk getting caught out in the open, and it won¡¯t be a small attack like before, that David saved us from. The goblins are all out there now, securing the land.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°We can defend this spot. You¡¯re still not using your Blood Union to inflict that killing, are you, Mark?¡±

    Mark had considered that option, but he had dismissed it, because, ¡°We need to keep up our Powers, and Blood Union is the best way to keep you in Full Platinum mode, and Eliot able to work his machines so well. Breath Union doesn¡¯t do that nearly as well, and all these other possible Unions I¡¯m looking at in every battle are kinda¡­ less solid than blood or breath. Good for moving around general ideas of combat, maybe some control of combat, too, but not much more than that.¡±

    Maybe if Mark was out there himself, in the thick of it, he could more accurately get into the flow of battle, and truly orchestrate the fight. But he was here, inside a bunker, feeling out goblins with ephemeral tendrils of Union, and working his astral body in disconnected ways. It was probably better this way, though. They needed big-killing power, and Isoko was doing well as bait. If Mark had to be bait, too, then he would have fucked up somewhere, he was sure.

    Things were looking good, though, as long as the other goblins didn¡¯t attack.

    He had achieved two big things tonight.

    He was able to feel where creatures were with his Union, and he was able to move combatants around, like how Badaira and Lola had told him he could. Grand Healer Badaira wanted him to become a commander of armed forces and city defense for good reason, while Lola wanted him to be an Inquisitor for other, just-as-good reasons.

    Isoko said, ¡°Try doing the death-thing with blood Union, Mark. This is a training mission. We¡¯re not going to die. We¡¯re just going to fail if you can¡¯t live up to your full potential.¡±

    Mark winced... but yeah. He couldn¡¯t use the monster tree anymore. It was already too close for comfort.

    David spoke up, ¡°I agree with Isoko. Though failure here will not be a simple thing to recover from, I am still confident I can get all three of you out of here should the need arise.¡± He stressed, ¡°I would rather not do that. Please take this seriously.¡±

    With a strong voice, Isoko said, ¡°I am taking this extremely seriously. Thank you, Instructor.¡±

    David didn¡¯t comment.

    Eliot said, ¡°There are some things I could try. They¡¯re more experimental than actual, though. Nuclear reactors with lightning dischargers can kill small goblins, but they¡¯ll only paralyze the larger ones. That¡¯s kind of¡­ ambitious, though. Or perhaps a better idea¡­¡± Eliot said, ¡°I can make a flying platform with the oils and plastics I¡¯ve collected, and the plane parts I have stored upstairs. Maybe more of an offensive vehicle than an escape vehicle. We could go hunting.¡±

    Mark liked the idea, but there was a problem¡ª

    Isoko spoke of it first, saying, ¡°The actual, big wyverns will spot us if we¡¯re not fast, and we won¡¯t be fast, hunting from the air. You can¡¯t make a real hovervan, can you?¡±

    ¡°I cannot,¡± Eliot said, ¡°Those require special materials from Daihoon. Levistone and gravcrystal and a bunch of smaller things. There are lab-created alternatives, but I can¡¯t make those, either, since we have no magical materials to start with, and I cannot turn monsters into magical materials, either. I can make a hover platform with some masking sound-makers and holographic mirage displays. It won¡¯t be a fast or strong vehicle. You won¡¯t be able to go Full Platinum, either. I¡¯ll be straining weight requirements, as is.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°How about a sometimes-flying platform? Something with spider legs that can set down anywhere?¡±

    Eliot glanced at the holo display as he thought. Mark looked at the display, too.

    The goblins were out there, but they weren¡¯t coming this way. Not yet.

    Isoko spoke up into the silence, ¡°I like that idea?¡±

    Eliot started saying, ¡°It¡¯s the same problem as power armor. I know David said something about that earlier in all of this, but all of this stuff is Power Level 0. Earth is Power Level 0. All of this steel breaks unless it¡¯s empowered by a person, and my stuff specifically cannot be empowered by me unless it¡¯s fully human-made.

    ¡°So me getting into a power armor is just asking to be trapped in a tin can that I cannot move, and which is eventually crushed against my body, as soon as the monsters touch it.¡± Eliot looked to Mark, saying, ¡°A flying platform can be taken down with rocks thrown by monsters, or by webbing cast through the air. Those spider goblins have webbing. The flying goblins can hold onto the spider goblins. We already saw that once, and they¡¯re not dumb. So a spider-like transport with legs that are in reach of the monsters? That¡¯s just asking to get those legs chopped out from underneath us.

    ¡°There are reasons why I haven¡¯t suggested a flying platform yet, and¡­ And those reasons are myriad. And yeah. There¡¯s the actual-wyvern problem, too. They¡¯re out there. The long range sensors have picked up on them. But they¡¯re mostly day hunters. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have to fight them once night is over, but Mark can probably kill one of those on his own¡­ Might take him a while, though. They¡¯re strong. Body 6. And there won¡¯t be wyverns to use against other wyverns when we¡¯re fighting those.¡±

    So that was a lot.

    Isoko paused pressing the button on the wall as she went, ¡°Ahh.¡± And then she continued to press the button on the wall.

    Mark asked, ¡°So how about a spider with legs that are like¡­ pillars that you can extend from plastic tanks that you keep on the platform, to continually make new legs?¡±

    Eliot frowned a little as he thought.

    Isoko said, ¡°That¡¯s the weight problem again, right?¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Big jumping spider platform? Only stays aloft long enough to get to a location? How about parachutes that you aim fans at, like those paraglider things? Ever been in one of those? I went once with my Dad for¡­¡± Mark frowned. He shook his head. ¡°Does that help with planning?¡±

    Silence, save for the whir of computer fans downstairs, the burble of collecting oils beyond the plastic layer that separated floor 2 from 3, and the low droning of the air conditioning units blowing air through the space. The air smelled clean, and fresh, and Mark made sure that everyone felt that way too, even Isoko, who was outside of the space.

    Eliot had added a few cooling fans to Isoko¡¯s space out there, but it was a pretty nice night, all things considered, so Isoko had shut those small fan vents herself.

    More silence.

    Isoko asked, ¡°How about just drones? A drone army? You said something about the spider goblins dropping lines, but how about you do that? Can you make mono-molecular kill-lines?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Those are banned for use on Earth and other places, and I can make them, but I¡¯m not going to. They stick around forever, so they¡¯re a war crime. I¡¯ll do expanding degradable foam on bomb drones, instead. Should be able to trap up some gobbos for a little bit. Delay tactics.¡± Eliot smiled a little bit. He said, ¡°Actually. Yeah! This is good.¡±

    Mark glanced upstairs as a vat of the oil burst and then began transforming into plastic parts as Eliot¡¯s eyelids fluttered, his mind focused on his astral body control of his magic. In the corner of this second floor, a clear tube that led from the first floor to the third floor filled up with little metal bits, traveling on their way to the drones up above. Some camera drones and stationary cameras angled upward to watch the show.

    Mark asked, ¡°Are you running out of metals?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I have enough for one more big push and a get-away vehicle. We will need to go out and get more in the morning. It¡¯s kind of truly hard to go out and gather more metal through drones, or else I would be doing that. There¡¯re problems of efficiency in automatic systems all over the place, that I can only truly bridge with my Power, and car-cutting drones cross that line. Sending out car-cutting drones is nearly impossible. Sending out drones that can drop exploding foam bombs? Easy enough¡ª Oh shit. They¡¯re sending that last 500 at us, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Mark whipped back toward the holo display. At 200 meters out they were surrounded by goblins on all sides, except for the direct north where the monster tree grew tall. They had been milling around at that distance for a while now. But now, they advanced.

    Rapidly.

    Running.

    Mark¡¯s heart sunk a little.

    And then Mark prepared himself to become an agent of death¡ª

    Eliot rapidly crunched numbers and said, ¡°The big Power signatures are stopping at 190 meters! All the rest are advancing!¡±

    Isoko chuckled, teased, ¡°They figured out your max distance!¡±

    As Eliot commented, ¡°They figured that out on the third push.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m doing the blood kill, this time. It¡¯ll be hard to protect you from stray shit, Isoko, and your mind protection is going away when I do this, Eliot.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Heard and understood!¡± She hefted up a big steel shield that was sitting to the side, saying, ¡°Shields up!¡±

    Eliot stared at the display, whispering, ¡°Shields up.¡±

    Mark became one with the world.

 070

    Weeks ago by now, Mark had once seen the threads of the world when he was stretched thin on the first day of Healing Club, and when he had first connected to those cleaner plants, in that training room with Lola. In the first real goblin push, the first 100 goblins they sent after Isoko, Eliot, Mark, and David, Mark had caught glimpses of the world again.

    Of the threads that bound them all.

    Thinking of them as threads was incorrect.

    Mark had figured that out fast once he got a real, gut need to figure it all out.

    The threads were connections to the world, to each other. Force vectors, perhaps. Except they were more airy than that. Kinda ephemeral. Perhaps it was the stuff of astral bodies, or physicality, or everything all at once, taken together in a cacophony that could not be delineated, only described.

    Mark was a weight upon the world, and so was everyone else, and so was the tower, and the tools that Eliot had made, and the tree under the ground, and the ground itself, and the goblins headed this way.

    Mark could not feel the goblins right now. Not directly. They were too far away.

    But they were focused on Mark, and his people, and his whole general existence in this tower.

    He did not need to see them, to feel them.

    Mark was like a kid, wrapped in blankets, hiding from the world, pretending that the monsters in the night could not get him if they could not see him. But they could still get him. The monsters in the dark pulled at that fabric, little hands pulling at threads in the black. Mark felt the pressure of their need long before they entered his range. They pulled at Mark with their desires.

    Mark waited with the covers tight around his face, knife in his heart, for the monsters to appear out of the dark, to dare a single finger toward him, to step into the light¡ª

    There.

    A thousand claws pulling at the fabric surrounding Mark, yanking his blanket away, revealing all the knives he had hidden under the covers.

    Mark opened his eyes, and he saw the threads of the world.

    Everything moved in slow motion.

    Eliot wondered why they were out here, and if he could nap yet. He was already being affected by the nudges of the mind goblins.

    Isoko spoke at Eliot through the radio, telling him that he needed to listen, and he needed to stay awake, and he needed to turn the lights back on, because Eliot had turned off the lights because, in his own words, it was time to sleep, right?

    Obviously it was time to sleep.

    The monsters wanted their prey asleep.

    They were already attacking.

    Mark saw those attacks in the air, in the threads. The mind magics of the mind goblins. Those attacks were not threads, but maybe more like clogs.

    Everything moved so slowly.

    But David moved in a normal timeframe as he stepped around the room, looking at Mark. He had picked up Eliot and moved him to the side, like he had picked up a sculpture of Eliot, who was moving too slow to be considered anything but frozen. Eliot was still sitting, half asleep, even though David had a hand on the wiry guy¡¯s shoulder, and Eliot was in the air.

    It was freaky.

    The goblins were there, at the edge of Mark¡¯s range.

    There was no blue on the holo display, though. Eliot must have shut it off, strangely enough.

    Mark didn¡¯t need the holo display, or the cameras, which were also off.

    Mark realized a lot of things at that moment.

    He was a part of a dance. The dance was in the breath, the blood, the very movement of life itself, and even in the mind, in the directed thoughts of himself and the mind goblins out there. Mark wondered, for a moment, if there was a ¡®Union of Thought¡¯, because if there was, then the goblins were certainly in a Union of Thought right now. They all wanted one thing.

    The humans only wanted one thing, too.

    Just from different directions.

    The monsters wanted to live, and they wanted the humans to die.

    The humans wanted to live, and they wanted the monsters to die.

    Mark said, ¡°But I am the arbiter of that sort of thing, in this place, in this time.

    ¡°And so,

    ¡°The humans will live,

    ¡ª resilience, good, vein integrity

    ¡°And everything else will die,

    ¡ª weakness, bad, vein decay

    ¡°Life to the humans, death to all monsters.¡±

    - - - -

    David watched a miracle and he tried not to run from it.

    Mark sat on a stone bench in the dim lights of the stone room, and his eyes glowed white, while his heart beat black as night. Veins of utter miasma shot through the world itself, connecting David and Eliot and Isoko to Mark in a moment that would forever be etched on David¡¯s memory. Perhaps he was the only one capable of truly appreciating what happened, since it happened so fast, Eliot was incapacitated, and Isoko was outside.

    Eliot¡¯s cameras caught it, for sure, but it was over in a flash.

    Black lightning extended out of Mark in every direction, touching everything, coiling through the ground, instantly killing the monster tree, and then passing on into the distance. David watched the lightning spread beyond cameras that could not capture it fast enough, well enough, so David punched through the wall and stepped outside.

    He stood under the light and watched a sky of black lightning skitter throughout the goblins on the rooftops and the goblins flying in the air. Black lightning crashed into bushes and the normal trees and the fish in the lake and the grasses on the ground. It started in the north, since Mark had correctly deduced that he had needed to kill the tree, and then he swept in a counterclockwise manner, using his full, directional range to grab and kill. In a flash of thought, Mark had completed an entire circling of the sky. Mark¡¯s Union was a fast thing, moving at the speed of thought, for he had realized one of the truer powers of Union; the ability to connect to the dance of electricity in the brains of monsters, and life itself.

    Perhaps, if Mark hadn¡¯t been tutored so well then it might have taken him a year to get here. Or maybe he never would. Mark seemed rather capable, though, so of course he would get here.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    David watched as black tendrils touched goblin minds and eradicated those minds from existence. It didn¡¯t take much to kill a goblin if you were truly powerful, and Mark was already there. The problem with goblins was that they were tenacious, and Mark was not getting the distant ones, and he was already faltering from astral body strain.

    David wondered if Freyala would command him to kill Mark now.

    It was not outside of possibilities, but David hoped not. He liked the kid. David had doubted that Mark would get here this fast, but Lola had told him that Mark was going to get here faster than any of them were ready for, and that David needed to make peace with that. The Collective already knew what was going to happen, and they had given their tentative approval.

    Lola certainly wanted the boy alive. She felt way too much guilt over what had happened with Addashield.

    David felt some guilt, too, but the Collective had already decided that she had no guilt for her part in the shitshow that was the end of Addashield¡¯s life, and now that the dragon was around, the Collective was ¡®very happy¡¯ with the outcome. They were definitely looking for ways to take out the dragon should the need arise, though.

    And Mark was already pointed that way.

    David suspected that Freyala would be truly happy with this outcome, with this much advancement from Mark, this fast. And if not, then she would tell him.

    At full speed, fast as he could go, David watched the sky for a full 5 minutes of personal time; the threads of black woven among the dark, and the light.

    He could almost see the world as Freyala must see it.

    David grinned at that thought.

    Gradually, but also rather quickly, David rejoined the normal flow of time, slowing down so the world could speed up. Rapidly, Mark¡¯s black veins faded away, and flying goblins began to fall out of the sky, while the monster tree¡¯s trunk cracked, its branches fell, and it finished dying, having never really lived. The leaves of the thing were already twisted and broken black things, and the trunk was not far behind. David nodded at that; the tree was useful, but it was a monster, too.

    Mark collapsed from strain, of course. David saw that coming from a while away.

    Eliot freaked the fuck out, screaming about a hole in the wall and why was he laying in bed and all sorts of things that it was normal to freak out about when confronted by mind monsters.

    Isoko calmly asked, ¡°What happened?¡±

    David was already standing next to Mark, healing Mark from his small, internal wounds. He was healing fast; it was mostly just astral body strain, and Mark had Healthy Body. Mark would be fine after a while.

    David said, ¡°Mark cleared out almost all the goblins then he fainted from overstrain.¡± He glanced down at the holo display that Eliot was frantically trying to reestablish. It looked like Mark had killed almost everything out there, which was good. David said, ¡°You have two choices. Wait for Mark to get back up, which looks like it might take a day, or risk going out there to hunt down the remaining goblins right now, which looks like about¡­ 30-ish. The corrupter goblin is surely among one of those. Probably a mind goblin, too, and neither of you have a way to truly defend from that without Mark. But if you let them go, then they¡¯ll come back stronger than ever.

    ¡°Because they won¡¯t marshal forces against you three like they did tonight, with only 1300 goblins. They¡¯ll go out on a biting spree, biting everything they possibly can, spreading far and fast and then coming back here with an army of thousands.¡±

    Isoko stepped through the open wall, saying, ¡°We relocate while we can.¡±

    Eliot flinched when Isoko appeared like a shadow in the hole in the wall, and then he chuckled, sighed, and said, ¡°I¡¯m checking the scanners. The goblins scattered in every direction. David is right; they¡¯re going to just start biting monsters and recouping losses as fast as they can. Every historical record of something like this happening only makes the goblins more eager to kill whatever hurt them this much.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°We relocating, or not?¡±

    ¡°Uhh¡­ ! Well...¡± Eliot said, looking at the scanners, tapping away at the air to focus himself. ¡°It appears¡­ Oh. Mark killed everything in the whole area. There¡¯s¡­ oh. No life except us within 150 meters in every direction. Further?¡± Questioningly, ¡°He killed the grass, too?¡± He looked up to David.

    David grinned. ¡°It was a miracle of his own making.¡±

    Eliot paused.

    Isoko stared at Mark¡ª

    Something loud crashed outside and Isoko whipped around. It was just the monster tree, further breaking apart. Isoko stared outward for a little while as she looked out at the black sludge ocean, the slippery acid on top, and then she said to Eliot, ¡°Make a mobile base that we can move elsewhere and set down before the sun comes up and the wyverns turn active.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I don¡¯t think we can. Some of the goblins are in place out there, watching from far away. They¡¯d go after us if we ran.¡± Eliot looked to Isoko. ¡°We can stay here but I need metals, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko made a decision, then said, ¡°Anything in the nearby square?¡±

    ¡°Four streets to the north, past the tree,¡± Eliot pointed at the holo display, saying, ¡°Here. It looks like a collapsed garage. You and I can go after it while Mark recovers¡ª¡± He looked to David. ¡°A full day?¡±

    ¡°Maybe 18 hours,¡± David said.

    Eliot told Isoko, ¡°We can survive here if we get more metals, but we can¡¯t wait for Mark to wake up.¡±

    Isoko looked to David. ¡°Odds on us dying out there without Mark¡¯s mental defenses?¡±

    David said, ¡°Depending on how fast you go, then it''s anywhere from 80% survival rate, to 20% if you go slow, at all.¡±

    David almost spoke of using holographic cloaking fields, but they were learning fast, and¡ª

    Eliot pulled some drones up and they flickered with holograms. With a grin, Eliot stood up, saying, ¡°We can increase those odds by sending holograms in every direction, and going fast.¡±

    David heard something spraying outside, so he took a quick peek to see what it was. Eliot was spraying all of the nearby oil/acid slick with orange neutralizing agent. With the orange drops almost locked still in the air, for David was moving fast, David took a wider glance around the space, walking briskly to check on the goblins he knew to be out there.

    They were watching, but mostly just the young ones, left as hive mind tethers; not any real dangerous ones. If the kids triggered the goblins to chase them, then he would rescue the kids, but hopefully the goblins would go after the false trails, and hopefully Eliot would remember to make the oil out there splash with some downdrafts from the cameras. Those goblins had very, very good sight, and they weren¡¯t stupid.

    He stepped back inside and rejoined the normal timeframe.

    Eliot said, ¡°Soon as the neutralizing agents are done, I can send the false trails out at the same time as us. They¡¯ll even tap the ground like us if we were really running. Should make those goblins out there think we¡¯re actually running.¡±

    As the two kids made final plans to run for it, David almost spoke up about how Eliot was only making flying drones show Isoko and himself, and not including Mark in the false trails, or as a fake image in their real dash across the kinda-slippery ground. He should have included Mark, because they would have recognized that Mark was the one who did the black lightning death, and if he wasn¡¯t there, then they were extra vulnerable.

    But this was a learning experience, and sometimes action was better than explaining everything to each other, and yet, in a kind of expected way, the goblins saw that Eliot and Isoko had dashed off to the north, and they had seen that Mark was not with them. The goblins decided to attack, but they were still far away.

    David moved back and forth between Isoko and Eliot, as they crashed into the car park and started bashing shit and gathering metals, and the scanner in the base that showed goblins converging on their locations. They had correctly figured out that Isoko and Eliot had ¡®lost the member of their team that had killed all the goblins¡¯, and now they were circling back, all of them, to try and kill Isoko and Eliot¡­

    Hmm.

    David looked at the scanner, and saw that¡­ nope.

    The big goblins were staying away. They were continuing on to the normal goblin plan of killing and transforming anything that moved in order to recoup losses. The goblins going after Eliot and Isoko were opportunistic killers. One mind goblin did go after Eliot and Isoko, though. Just one.

    If all of the goblins and the corrupter goblin had turned, then Eliot and Isoko would have had a confrontation with them. But as it was...

    David watched as Isoko sliced a diving goblin in half with one hand and grabbed a suddenly-sleeping Eliot with the other, throwing him into the cart full of supplies and then pushing him fast, back toward base.

    Isoko was immune to the mind monsters now, which was good for her¡­

    The mind goblin, and most of the goblins with it, decided to turn around and return to the ¡®recoup losses¡¯ plan.

    Back in the base, Eliot slammed awake and Isoko chuckled, talking about risks and rewards.

    Eliot tried not to freak out, but he was freaking out a lot.

    David thought it a good lesson.

    Eliot should not be out in the wilds at all. He was too useful to humanity and his power was directly countered by all the monsters of the world. It was good that he was scared. Perhaps he would forget his whole bardic career thing and go back to Citadel, or maybe to some city somewhere. Anywhere, in any human place, would be better than out with the goblins and the monster trees and all the rest. Humanity needed Eliot bored and successful in a city more than it needed Eliot out there in the wilds, dying.

    Isoko would do very well out in the wilds, though.

    She was smiling as she spoke of goblins raining from the sky.

    At least they had gotten a bunch of metals.

    Eliot started sorting through it, but he had to throw half of it out as monster-touched.

    Mark slept soundly.

 071

    Mark woke up all at once and violently, his heart slamming in his chest, beating out a drum of Union, drawing in resilience from the world and giving it back weakness in return. He felt Eliot and Isoko and David before his eyes registered their presence.

    And then he saw they were eating soup around a table, and Mark had woken up on a bed sat to the side of the room.

    No goblins.

    No danger.

    Just¡­ soup.

    Isoko grinned. ¡°Soup¡¯s hot!¡±

    Mark groaned and then tried to breathe in sustenance and¡ª

    He started coughing as some foul everything invaded his lungs. He hacked out dark sludge and switched to breathing purity/impurity, and that worked just fine.

    Mark coughed a few times as he said, ¡°Fuck. Did I blight the land?¡±

    ¡°You did,¡± David said, and then he sipped his soup.

    Isoko said, ¡°Eliot managed to make a fishing drone so we¡¯re having fish soup while the goblins are running everywhere out there, biting everything in a mad dash to get strong enough to overwhelm us. We¡¯ve had to fend off a few small attacks since then, but just the roaming kind, from second generation goblins that don¡¯t know who we are in this tower.¡± She handed Mark some soup with lots of flaked fish floating in an oily broth.

    Mark took the bowl. It smelled good while it felt warm in his hands. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the purification,¡± Isoko said. ¡°And here I thought I was gonna need the shower Eliot made!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a fine shower,¡± Eliot said, eating his soup. ¡°It¡¯s got jets from four angles. Great shower, even. I could sell shower enclosures and make good money.¡±

    Isoko laughed.

    David tried not to grin.

    Mark was confused for a moment. ¡°How long was I out? I see the sun is up.¡±

    Eliot looked at the clock. ¡°Almost 11 hours. It¡¯s just past noon and there are 3,500 goblins out there and counting.¡±

    ¡­ Mark loudly went, ¡°Uhhh-huh!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°We have a plan.¡±

    Mark felt his hackles lower. He asked, ¡°Good plan?¡±

    ¡°Workable,¡± Isoko said, waggling a hand like she was unsure. ¡°It¡¯s the hopping-flying-spider-fortress plan. Basically, we just go around, hopping and flying from goblin location to goblin location, and you kill things while Eliot navigates and I pilot the thing. If a wyvern comes, then we kill that thing, too, but hopefully we can duck down below the buildings fast enough that the wyverns don¡¯t see us. Other than that! Kill everything that moves. Maybe if it¡¯s not moving, too.¡±

    Mark sipped his soup as he thought about that, as he opened himself astrally to the world. He couldn¡¯t really see the threads right now, but he could half-see them. Mostly feel them, in a way that was not sight at all. What he saw, was Isoko, Eliot, and David sitting around a table. What he felt, was the presence of the three people he was focused on, and a near-absolute absence of all land outside, and everywhere within range.

    There was no life out there at all.

    Stuff still moved, though.

    Mark looked up, with his actual eyes. Eliot¡¯s machines burbled oils into vats, while computer screens and holo displays showed the local area, and cameras showed a whole bunch of black sludge covering most of the land out there¡­ Oh. And a few blue goblins in the far distance. Maybe a kilometer away in most directions¡ª

    A few were only 300 meters away, though¡­

    Hmm.

    Mark extended his Union in the direction of the nearest one, to the North¡ª

    There it was.

    In the north, on a tower of its own, stuck to the side and looking this way. Mark couldn¡¯t see it at all, but he could feel it. Sense its general orientation. It was pulling in this direction, looking at this tower, trying to get to the people in this tower.

    Mark killed¡ª He stopped.

    He almost killed the goblins looking at them.

    Mark asked, ¡°So I think my range has increased a lot. I hit a few goblins 300 meters out to the far north and west. Should I kill them? I think we could pretend to be weak, right? Make them come to us?¡±

    Eliot raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯d like to get it done today, if we can. Not sure if we can, though. Some of the goblins just took off, you know. That¡¯s their whole thing. They go up against strong opponents and if they win then they progress, but if they fail then they scatter to the wind, running and running and biting along the way. It¡¯s like a genetic, instinctive switch. Some of them won¡¯t stop running and biting until they die to some monster out there.¡± He added, ¡°If we move at a slow rate, based on previous kill rates, it¡¯ll take 2 days to track them all down, based on average estimates and what long range scans picked up.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound good.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Eliot said.

    David said, ¡°We¡¯re close to the point that this is a failed training mission and real authorities get involved.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯d like to get up and running in a few hours, and if we can do that, then we won¡¯t fail the mission, but you¡¯re the only one that got any sleep. Can you do the no-sleep stuff again? Then we can all wake up?¡±

    Mark rapidly said, ¡°Of course! I think¡­ I think the sludge out there is biodegradable?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Yeah it is. Makes great fertilizer after a few months out in the sun, but fungi can digest it right away.¡±

    Mark focused on a Union of resilience/weakness, focusing on whatever plant life might be out there, along with whatever fungi might be lurking as spores in the wind, or on the¡ª

    There.

    That did it.

    Just by being connected to a larger system, the spores in the area began to grow like a wave of change upon the black ocean of sludge¡­ which was more like 3 inches of black, extending out about 200 meters in every direction.

    Mark glanced at the cameras in order to see what he could only feel.

    Life sprouted from death in a panoply of shapes and colors, like a mat of hair stretching through the sun-baking black and then popping up with buttons and ridges and horns of mushrooms of every color, shape, and size. Some of them rapidly ate the other ones and grew taller, before bursting into spores of their own, to spread on the wind and rapidly decay the world into other sorts of nutrients.

    Eliot added spore filters to the air conditioning in the tower, and Mark didn¡¯t grow stuff inside the tower.

    But outside, Mark grew mushrooms while he ate fish soup, and talked about what had happened while he was out of it. Soon, a few stray grass seeds that had been buried wherever, sprouted, and grasses colonized the mats of dead mushroom land. Dandelions sprouted and seeded the air, spreading far, and that¡¯s when Mark started breathing in sustenance and breathing out deprivation along with Isoko, Eliot, and David.

    David was fine, because he was keeping himself active and whole.

    But Eliot and Isoko instantly started to look better.

    Eliot sighed out, ¡°Oh that¡¯s the stuff.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°Spider legs up in an hour? Half an hour? How long do you need, Eliot?¡±

    ¡°The parts are mostly made,¡± Eliot said, eyes half-lidded, as he typed away at an invisible keyboard. ¡°I need to put them together and finish out the various internal systems. Half an hour.¡±

    Isoko walked over to a bed, saying, ¡°I¡¯m going to lay down for half an hour, then. Mark! You¡¯re on watch!¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Absolutely. Thanks for watching out while I¡­ er¡­ I crashed out on a mission, didn¡¯t I? That¡¯s not good, actually. Sorry.¡±

    Isoko waved an arm. ¡°And you killed most of the problem before you crashed. It¡¯s good.¡± She laid down and was out like a light within moments.

    She must have been running truly hard.

    Mark told Eliot, ¡°I can watch over you for half an hour, too.¡±

    Eliot smiled, eyes still half-lidded as he tapped away at the air. ¡°Thank Freyala. I will take that offer, but when I¡¯m done here¡­ 10 minutes. Maybe 5 if I hurry¡­ Oh gods no. I¡¯m just gonna lay down.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Sleep well.¡±

    Soon, David was the only one still awake with Mark.

    Mark glanced over at Eliot and Isoko. ¡°They ran hard, huh.¡±

    ¡°They did,¡± David said, ¡°You all learned new tricks last night. Let¡¯s talk about what you learned, though.¡±

    Mark recalled a conversation he had with Lola one time, about what sorts of people in Freyala¡¯s church got what sorts of Union Powers.

    Mark said, ¡°Life has rhythms, and Union uses them like a flow controller. The main versions of Union Freyala gives out are Breath, for almost all acolytes. Then comes Blood, for priests and most accomplished people. But last night, I think I touched upon the one that Inquisitors get. The main flow. The ability to connect to the electrical signals of the brain; a Union of Brain.¡± Mark asked, ¡°Is that it? Union of Breath, Blood, and Brain?¡±

    David smiled softly. ¡°Lola will want to tell you a lot more about that last one because I think you have it right, but also kinda wrong. I¡¯ve always thought of it more like the Union of Life. Life, itself, is a flow. Your method certainly concentrated on the lightning-like aspect of it, though. Do you remember much of what you actually did?¡±

    Mark had a lot of little, unfinished thoughts about David calling what Mark had done a ¡®Union of Life¡¯. He still thought of what he had done as electrical dancing in the brain.

    But anyway, Mark said, ¡°I remember veins reaching out and stabbing through¡­ everything. What I took from them seemed to make the attack stronger, in turn, too.¡±

    David nodded. ¡°You can¡¯t really do something like that unless you focus on the brain¡ª¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Ah ha! The brain was correct!¡±

    David chuckled. ¡°Again. Lola would want to talk to you about that. But¡­ That¡¯s your trump card, Mark. Try not to use it too much on other people. On monsters? It¡¯s fine, because you can¡¯t kill yourself with it and monsters you want dead. But try not to use it on other people too much. It¡¯s too easy to have stray thoughts enter your mind while using Union of Life, and you might accidentally kill someone. Stray thoughts are deadly.¡±

    Mark¡­ understood where David was coming from, but he thought David was wrong. It had not been easy to use Union of Brain. Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that it would be hard to kill an enemy with Union of Brain if the enemy wasn¡¯t wishing so much for our own death.¡±

    David raised an eyebrow. ¡°¡­ Maybe you¡¯re right. But you blighted the land 250 meters in every direction.¡± He added, ¡°My point is: there are a lot of reasons why Union of Life is only given out to the most trusted people in the clergy. It¡¯s all about action speed.

    ¡°Union of Breath is slow, taking 5-ish seconds for one cycle. 2 seconds if you want to get fast with it.

    ¡°Union of Blood is your usual use of the Power. It¡¯s a cycle per second. 2 cycles when you get really going, your heart beating fast.

    ¡°Union of¡­ Brain, is incredibly fast, functioning at the speed of thought. That speed is deadly fast. I think the quikipedia articles call it a Union of Life, too, but yes. It¡¯s fast.

    ¡°You should grow used to always having Union of Blood active with that half-healing-half-protective thing you got going on, while using Union of Brain against monsters, only. That¡¯s how Inquisitors are trained in it. Union of Breath is something that you switch up and use as needed, all the time.¡± David added, ¡°I guess what I¡¯m saying is¡­ When you start experimenting on your abilities, Union of Breath is what you use to test out a new way to use Union. Union of Blood is for something that you know how to use well. Only ever use Union of Brain when you know ¡ªtruly know¡ª what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    Oh.

    That was a good way to think of it, huh?

    Mark could actually start doing experiments with this stuff, too, couldn¡¯t he?

    Mark had another thought. ¡°What if I wanted to use Union of Brain more? Make it just a third vector for casual Union work? Like the resilience/weakness thing?¡±

    David raised an eyebrow again. ¡°That takes incredible mental discipline, and I wouldn¡¯t recommend it for any non-Minder people. If a Minder chooses to get Chosen, then they usually end up as an Inquisitor, or they¡¯re not Chosen at all. Any sort of additional brain power makes Union truly strong, Mark... Or maybe you need to think about signing up for the Advanced Healing Club. Do you want to be a Grand Healer, like Badaira?¡±

    Mark was a little surprised where that answer went. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about being a Grand Healer¡­ But healing is good, yeah?¡±

    David grinned. He nodded. ¡°Healing is good, yes.¡±

    ¡°You know? I¡¯ve wondered something about Union. It¡¯s True Healing, isn¡¯t it? Or is it not? De-aging healing, I mean.¡±

    David didn¡¯t know what to make of that question for a moment, and then he shook his head. ¡°No. The True Healers of the world are all¡ª Are mostly all on a list, and not many of them are actual Union users. Very few. There¡¯s always a few new True Healers that come out of Tutorial every year and choose to stay off of the list, but then they¡¯re always found out and abused for their Power. When that happens an Inquisitor of some variety is usually called on to rescue them, and then they get rescued and asked if they want to go on the protected list. They usually choose to get on the protected list at that point in time.¡±

    Mark was surprised again. ¡°I didn¡¯t know the Inquisitors did that.¡±

    ¡°We do a lot of the cleanup of humanity. The dirty work, outside of city walls and sometimes inside city walls, too, when we get clearance from those cities. Usually Hearthswell Inquisitors work the healer list, though, unless the healer gets taken out into the wilds, and then a Freyalan Inquisitor usually steps in. Freyalan Inquisitors are only called on to do those rescues and whatnot in the first place if we already have contacts with those True Healers.¡±

    Mark thought about a lot of small things.

    He had always heard that his Uncle Alexandro, Dad¡¯s brother, was a True Healer, but the last time Mark had seen the guy, Alexandro he looked, well, 45. Which was his real age.

    Mark asked, ¡°So what is Union classified as? Not True Healing?¡±

    ¡°Union is High Healing,¡± David said, ¡°No aging or crippling side effects. A lot of different cultures use different words that end up overlapping a lot and confusing people. High Healing, Supreme Healing, Ultra Healing. Those are all the same sort of category I¡¯ve heard of for Union. We do try to stick to using ¡®True Healing¡¯ to mean perfect, de-aging healing, though.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll just ask¡ª Is my Uncle Alexandro a True Healer, then? I always heard him called that but I¡¯m wondering, now.¡±

    ¡°Yup. He¡¯s on the list. He switched over to Freyalan oversight two weeks ago, actually, so that we would give him more information on what¡¯s happening with you. You should call him again.¡±

    Mark laughed. It was just so weird having people up in his business¡­ He smiled. ¡°Yeah¡­ I should¡­¡± Mark frowned a little. ¡°Why is he 45 then?¡±

    And why did he live in a normal house?

    Uncle Alexandro was rich, yeah, but not stupid rich, like a True Healer should be?

    Actually.

    Forget all of that.

    Mark had more questions than answers right now, and they were in a battle zone.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why he¡¯s still 45,¡± David said, shrugging. ¡°Why is Holy Mother Garin 95-ish? That¡¯s the one I don¡¯t understand. Glorious Man has been 35 for a few years now, but he¡¯s probably going to stay there for a hundred years or more. He¡¯ll probably be the first human who gets a demon-touched lifetime without being demon-touched. Nova Nexus has been 36 for 40 years, and Echo has been 35 for 30-something. Maybe your Uncle likes being 45? I haven¡¯t inquired that deeply into that matter.¡±

    The room fell to a silence, except for all the noises of normal things.

    Mark asked, ¡°How likely are you going to need to call in the big guns for this training mission?¡±

    David said, ¡°I¡¯d have given you guys a 50% chance of success in the beginning, but Eliot is really coming into his power and Isoko is proving to be an unstoppable object when she really gets going. Both broke tier 4 a few hours ago. You broke tier 5 while you were sleeping.¡±

    Mark was surprised. He looked around, grabbed a pair of Eliot¡¯s scanner glasses, and looked at himself. He flicked through the buttons and soon he arrived on a personal tier scanner.

    Tier 3 Body, 4 Shaper, 3 Mind, 5 Natural, 3 Soul, 2 Arch.

    Mostly in the middle ranges for each of those, too.

    ¡°Huh! Healthy Body got up past tier 2?¡± Mark asked.

    David nodded. ¡°Tri Talent expectations aren¡¯t always in line with what actually happens, as evident by Healthy Body getting above PL25.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Could I eventually get Tactile Telekinesis with it?¡±

    ¡°Now that would be unexpected. TT comes about from a brawny being able to expand the scope of their natural enhancement; the 2.5x strength multiplier for most normal brawnies. The higher that multiplier, the easier it is for a person to gain TT. You have no multiplier at all.¡±

    Mark nodded as David confirmed what he already knew to be within expectations.

    Mark still tried to bend a spare steel spoon sitting on the table. It bent, sure. But not easily. Mark was not that strong!

    Mark moved on.

    He touched a part of his Power that he hadn¡¯t gotten to use, but at such a rapid increase to every part of his astral body, his Shaper Power had also skyrocketed under new strength, so¡­

    Yes.

    There.

    Mark felt grains of adamantium in his bones. One grain was in his left shin. Two were in his spine, near the top. Four little grains were in his rib cage. A whopping¡­ 7? 8? grains were in his pelvis.

    That was a lot of adamantium, but also, not much at all. It would take a full year of growing the biometal in his bones before it reached even a fingernail¡¯s size worth of material; maybe 15 grams of the stuff.

    David added, ¡°Tier 3-ish for most other things. Give you another half a year and you¡¯ll fully grow into your Power, as far as Power Level goes. Or you could go lift that vial of adamantium you have in the Vault and build some stronger astral muscles that way, and a lot faster.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Gotta get those gains!¡±

    David smirked. ¡°Getting to the peak of your astral body is only part of the process of growing as a monster killer, though. The main half, the larger half, is actually killing monsters, and learning how to do that better and better. Learning how to use Union is the work of a lifetime.¡±

    Mark nodded; he understood what David was saying.

    Mark wasn¡¯t going to try and use his adamantium now; not here in the field, where Eliot was recording everything. He would have needed to explain where he had gotten the stuff, when it wasn¡¯t normal at all for a person to grow the biometal themselves¡ª Well. Mostly. Mithralkinetics often grew mithral themselves, but adamantiumkinetics did not naturally grow adamantium, most of the time. That ability was in the realm of monsters¡­ And one dragon that still hadn¡¯t chosen a name for himself.

    ¡­ Mark ignored that part of his life right now, and focused on the present.

    Mark continued to breathe in sustenance and breathe out deprivation, using all the life he had helped to grow out there on the black goo slick from all the dead goblins and the tree, while his heart beat with a Union of resilience and weakness. He also finished up some more fish soup. It was good to have something in his belly.

    David ate another bowl himself.

    Mark asked small questions while Eliot and Isoko slept, like, ¡°How is it, moving so fast? Do your clothes burn up?¡±

    David said, ¡°I learned how to get real good with tactile telekinesis, real fast.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    David grinned.

    - - - -

    It was 2 in the afternoon by the time Eliot got his ¡®citywalker¡¯ completed.

    By 2:36, he had made a version that didn¡¯t break when it walked.

    Mark regretted his suggestion to build this thing.

    The whole thing rocked like a mother fucker as it moved, its 10-legs snapping into the ground, into the buildings, and especially when it ducked down low and turned on the big fans overhead, to stretch out the big parachutes. It did that right now, and Mark held on tight as fuck to his chair, his stomach dropping into his pelvis as the whole citywalker dipped down real low¡ª

    A spring clicked.

    Legs, spread wide, came together under the vehicle.

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°OH FUUUUUU¡­¡± his voice trailing away, as everything suddenly weighed so much more and the citywalker leapt into the air.

    The citywalker pushed itself in the air with its own fans and parachutes.

    Isoko laughed maniacally as she gripped the steering wheel, her platinum feet locked into the machine and her waist strapped into a holder that kept her at the controls. ¡°What are you scared of, Mark! We¡¯re just traversing the city!¡±

    Mark sat in a heavily cushioned and protected chair at the back of the control room, surrounded by plastic that hid a bunch of gears and engines and a lot of stuff that he only barely understood. Eliot sat in a chair beside Mark, fully strapped in, keeping the machine together, his eyes half-lidded. A big holo display in front of them showed off the world around them.

    Mark could see through the plastic overhead, and the plastic in front of them. The city looked like a ruin, and they were so high up, and everything was so light-feeling, and he couldn¡¯t see all the stuff behind them, and there was a lot of stuff behind them. Eliot had packed up everything that he could from the tower, except for the stone itself¡ª

    The citywalker hit the apex of its jump, a good hundred meters above the city, and it started descending. Slowly, and then way too fast.

    Mark¡¯s stomach was in his throat now.

    Isoko laughed, ¡°Prepare for landing!¡±

    Mark held on tight as overhead giant fans billowed out the parachutes. They were not enough to paraglide at all, and Mark was pissed at that. ¡°Isn¡¯t there some sort of ballooning thing you can do, Eliot?!¡±

    And then the citywalker did a controlled crash onto the ground, some of its legs snapping off inside of a building, and the others pressing down onto the street, the whole thing balancing as fast as Eliot could make it balance. Shock absorbers did their best.

    Mark refused to vomit.

    The only reason they weren¡¯t all paste was because Mark was heavily working Union right now.

    Eliot grinned as he fully opened his eyes, saying, ¡°We did better that time!¡±

    Isoko rapidly pulled down some levers and then pushed up some more, making the ¡®spring gauge¡¯ to the side rapidly rise, as she cackled, ¡°Here we go again, boys!¡±

    Mark looked out the side of the main viewing window.

    David was out there, standing on a roof, watching them. He had refused to get into the citywalker.

    Mark tried not to be jealous.

    Mark reiterated, ¡°How about a balloon, Eliot!¡±

    ¡°What? Like a hot air balloon? No no,¡± Eliot said, ¡°Balloons are so slow!¡±

    ¡°Stable, though!¡± Mark tried, just as the spring gauge got full again. Mark steeled himself, rapidly checking the holo display and also the weft of the world. He found 36 odd goblins nearby, all of them coming their way, and 2 wyvern dogs, running away as fast as they could from the giant mechanical spider thing. They all fell, dead, and Mark refocused, saying, ¡°We need to be less jumpEEEEEEE¡ª¡±

    Isoko had pressed the button, and Mark¡¯s stomach went back into his pelvis.

    Isoko laughed as she directed the fans overhead to push the parachutes toward some direction or something. Mark barely cared about directions. He was on a different mission.

    Isoko announced, ¡°Big clump up ahead! Let¡¯s get ¡®em!¡±

    Mark refused to vomit.

 072

    Mark stepped out of the wreckage of the citywalker, brushing blood out of his eyes. A few breaths of purity and that went away. Behind him, a platinum hand shot out of the plastics, and then a moment later the plastics began to melt and recombine, as Eliot groaned.

    They had killed two wyverns, 2000 goblins, and a thousand other smaller monsters since they started hopping all around Rome. The smart goblins ran from the citywalker, though. They¡¯d all come flooding in tonight, for sure. Maybe they could have caught up to the smart goblins, but the walker had the most fucking awful steering that Mark had ever fucking experienced in his whole fucking¡­

    Mark took a deep breath and tried not to be mad.

    Isoko said, ¡°Welp! The third wyvern had been too much, I see!¡±

    Eliot happily said, ¡°It breathed fire! But I can do better on the parachutes next time!¡±

    The third wyvern had eventually gotten them; yes.

    Mark had eventually killed it, though, while Isoko did a whole lot of dodging and Eliot shot some ineffectual sticky glue at it. The sticky glue had blinded it, at least! So it hadn¡¯t done exactly nothing.

    And now the wyvern rotted on the ground over there. Blood drooled from every orifice; not spurting anymore. It had taken a full 3 minutes to kill the fucker.

    They were lucky to be alive.

    David stepped near them, saying, ¡°You¡¯re lucky to be alive.¡±

    Mark burst out laughing.

    Eliot said, ¡°I had faith in Mark! We were fine!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°The steering could use some more work, Eliot. I was thinking bigger parachutes. Maybe some actual wings on the spidercrawler, too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about the wings again,¡± Eliot said, ¡°They didn¡¯t work so well¡ª¡±

    As the sun started to set in the distance, Mark said, ¡°Can we please try the hot air balloon now? Please?¡± Mark had already suggested it once, when they first got into the half-flying death trap, but they had shot him down. He had thought of a better argument in the last half an hour, and maybe it would work, this time. ¡°You could even paint the sides with advertisements for your channels.¡±

    Eliot went from dislike to deeply interested in a flash. ¡°OHHHH!¡±

    Isoko rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m still piloting. That shit is fun. I think I want to get a proper pilot¡¯s license. Can you make the balloon fast, though?¡±

    ¡°There are many things I can try,¡± Eliot said, thinking.

    Mark smiled as he said, ¡°And here we are, learning things about ourselves and the world. It¡¯s just so grand.¡±

    Soon, as the sun started to set, and as Mark killed the constant waves of monsters that came their way, before they even saw the monsters, Eliot smashed a plastic bottle full of bubbly oil on the brow of ¡®Citywalker Mark 5¡¯, and the whole thing lifted off with them inside. With a balloon that over matched the size of the carriage by 20 times over, and looking like a proper dirigible, Citywalker 5 floated in the air like an unmaintained hovercar.

    It rocked. It swung. It had problems.

    It was loads better than before.

    The outside was even layered with holograms, shining brightly upon the world, taunting all the goblins who could see it, which was a lot. There were even words spoken through loudspeakers. It was a display of cartoon humans shaking hands with cartoon goblins, and, at David¡¯s suggestion, Eliot had the cartoon goblins voluntarily remove their fangs after the handshake. It was a particular insult among most goblins to call themselves fangless, apparently.

    This had the desired effect among the goblins.

    The city positively boiled with them, all of them racing their way, some through the sky on wyvern-like wings, most across the ground.

    Eliot added ¡®successful¡¯ goblin attacks to the illusionary display, having the fliers ¡®get into¡¯ the dirigible and disrupt the display, and having the dirigible ¡®drop down¡¯ to ¡®crash¡¯ into a tower so the goblins on the ground could ¡®get in¡¯. But, in truth, Mark dropped them all before they got close and Citywalker 5 never crashed at all. Eliot shot acids at them, and some fast-growing mushrooms began to pile up on the corpses very quickly, which was enough to hide the truth of the assault from most eyes.

    Isoko pressed a big blue button that was labeled, ¡®I¡¯m doing my part!¡¯. Little lights flickered every time she did that, and a ticker ticked up. Every hundred button presses was a dinging bell, and she was nearing 20,000 presses. She smiled.

    Half an hour of killing later and there were only a hundred goblins left.

    They looked to be holding back, though. Reevaluating.

    Mark said, ¡° ¡®Repair¡¯ the ship and have us ¡®crash¡¯ into that big empty space over there, by the toxic slimes in the Vatican. They¡¯ll think we¡¯re running. I think they¡¯ll take the bait if Isoko drops out and runs away from the ship, too. You and I can stay in here and pretend to be dead. Isoko¡­ you can kill all of them, right? I¡¯ll keep you alive, of course.¡±

    Eliot asked, ¡°Can you deal with the toxic miasma in the air?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Mark said, 75% confident.

    They had already ventured close to the Vatican space, where toxic slimes ruled the world. The ones at the edge were tier 3 Shaper-Power slimes. Mostly acid-like toxins, according to Eliot, so Union could clear them up easily enough. Venturing into that space would be a last resort to get away from the goblins, though, so the goblins should believe that they would crash into that space to get away.

    Isoko smiled brightly. ¡°Let¡¯s do it!¡±

    Ten minutes later, pretending to limp through the sky and with goblins trailing in the distance, hanging back in the night, the ship crashed into the big empty circle in what used to be some sort of parade ground in the Vatican area. It wasn¡¯t far into the space at all, and the slimes here were pretty sparse.

    The area was a white road-like space surrounded by a ring of stone buildings that were all half ruined. There were four toxic slimes nearby. Most of the slimes were in the surrounding buildings. That made this space one of the few that could be considered ¡®safe¡¯ in the area.

    The slimes rested in the bottom of small craters here and there, and all throughout the buildings, like rounded pools of glowing yellow gelatin the size of cakes. They tainted the night air with deadly yellow fumes. There was no green life. The slimes were pretty much immobile, too, resting only where they were, and barely moving at all. They didn¡¯t need to move.

    They filter fed on ambient mana. They didn¡¯t even eat organics, or multiply all that fast.

    Mark kinda wondered why they were everywhere around here, if they were so bad at multiplying and eating. The only thing they were good at was killing anything that came near them, which, Mark supposed, was good enough.

    Mark felt the toxic miasma in the air even before he connected to it with Union. He winced.

    David winced, too. ¡°That¡¯s a strong toxin.¡±

    Eliot read out a few different things, ¡°Ouch. They¡¯re tier 5 up in here, but they¡¯re Kinetic-based, so it shouldn¡¯t be that hard for you.¡± He looked at Mark and pointed at the readout, saying, ¡°You need to kill this one and this one. Isoko can fight there if those ones are dead. Keep this one nearest to us alive, though. It might make the goblins not approach us.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Sounds good to me.¡±

    Mark focused.

    According to Lola, subduing a miasma-based creature that poisoned the air and made Union truly difficult to use, was rather easy, once you knew the trick. Actually killing a miasma-based creature was a lot more difficult, but these particular slimes were Kinetic slimes, which made them not-so-strong against Union, which was a Natural Power.

    Mark focused his Union upward, into the air above, away from the toxins on the ground. He breathed in purity from the world and breathed out impurity into the world, into the air above the miasma, cleansing himself and his immediate area and sending impurity toward the slimes.

    The slimes wiggled. They did not like that impurity.

    The usual next stage was to attack the slimes directly, but they didn¡¯t have heartbeats or anything, really. They just sat there, gelling. They didn¡¯t even have any active thoughts, so Mark couldn¡¯t use his new Union of Brain on them. So Mark had to find a different avenue of attack.

    Mark sat perfectly still, mimicking the ways the slimes sat there, filter feeding on the world.

    It was pretty easy to mimic that idea, actually, now that Mark was using Union to do something very similar to them, and that¡¯s how he envisioned his heartbeat. That, right there, was more than enough to actually connect to the slimes.

    Black veins extended outward and power flowed back to Mark, and he almost coughed, so he sped up his breathing of purity and impurity, keeping his area clean, driving away the miasma of the slimes.

    Mark drew on the resilience of the slimes and gave them weakness in turn. This was enough to connect to them in truth, and eventually, after a minute, the two slimes that Eliot had designated started to dim and die. With a concentrated-enough weakness, and the removal of all of their resilience, the slimes¡¯ bodies could not sustain themselves, so they simply popped, releasing clouds of miasma into the air that expanded like yellow mist.

    Mark finished off the expanding problems with some more purity breathing, and soon¡ª

    Eliot said, ¡°Confirmed battlefield clear. Isoko, you¡¯re clear to go through the airlock and pretend to be wounded. The goblins are picking their way here. They¡¯re only 5 minutes out. I¡¯ll turn on the spotlights¡ª¡±

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°No spotlights,¡± Mark said, ¡°She has to sell the death of both of us.¡±

    Isoko grinned, then said, ¡°Yes; that.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Mood lighting with the remains of the holograms, then.¡±

    - - - -

    The corrupter goblin howled with jubilation as the silver one burst out of the wreckage of their vehicle, as fires started in the wreckage and light illuminated the night. They had crashed into a land of killer slimes, but they had picked the worst spot for them to crash; an open area, away from the majority of the slimes. That decision would lead to their deaths.

    The lead scout goblins were already attacking the silver one.

    The blackvein thing had died, otherwise the closer goblins would have died already, and the ship wasn¡¯t coming together again, so the tinkerer had died. It was a great loss for their people not to transform those two, but they were too hard to take together. They would be content with just getting the platinum one. Maybe the other one, too; he never seemed to do anything except for that one time. He was obviously training the young ones, but he was not going to save them from their own deaths, not really.

    The corrupter goblin looked upon the silver one, and he wanted her. To bite into those legs and stomach, and watch a new generation spill outward.

    She killed and she killed, but she was slowing down¡ª

    A nudge goblin raced forward, saying, ¡°MINE!¡±

    A hive goblin rushed forward. ¡°MINE!¡±

    What! No! She was his! Not theirs!

    Corrupter goblin yelled as he ran for the kill, ¡°Blackvein should have killed you all, you stupid stupids! Silver is mine!¡±

    Young goblins died to the yellow haze in the air, falling into slimes, but the older goblins were past the yellow clouds and already aiming for the bite of creation.

    Corrupter was in the middle of the pack now, racing forward. He kicked a stupid youngling out of the way, launching them into a pool of yellow death. It screamed. Corrupter would make more from the silver one¡¯s corpse. A lot more. A lot better ones, too.

    Soon, they would overwhelm the silver one, and corrupter would come in for a bite. He was 20 steps away, and the silver one faltered, almost getting bit by the nudge goblin, but she slapped his face away with her sword, almost casually. The nudger bled, hissed, and went in again¡ª

    Corrupter¡¯s heart beat hard.

    Black expanded in the air, like cracks of death, drawing them all inward.

    Ah, he thought, as black veins extended out of the crashed ship, and as the lights of the crashed ship flickered and changed. They were not dead at all.

    The corrupter goblin fell to the ground and watched as the fancy lights of the downed ship showed all red, and then brilliant white, with letters, and the downed ship showed itself as not downed at all. Merely hidden behind illusions. Those illusions became letters. Became a celebration.

    The corrupter goblin almost felt bad for what he was reading. He had learned to read the language for this? For this much of an ending?

    A silver blade flashed, and the last thing the corrupter goblin saw were the words ¡®Mission Complete!!!¡¯ in bright, shining, human scribbles.

    - - - -

    Mark looked down at the holomap which was stretched out for kilometers upon kilometers. Nary a blue dot in sight. He still asked, ¡°That¡¯s really all of them, then?¡±

    Isoko smiled as she marched back onto the ship, blood and guts falling away from her platinum body as dust, as she said, ¡°Can¡¯t you read? It says Mission Complete out there!¡±

    Eliot grinned as he rolled his eyes, smiling for the camera, saying, ¡°Mark Careed can¡¯t read!¡±

    Mark laughed as he pushed Eliot away, saying, ¡°Ha ha ha.¡±

    ¡°Say something for the camera, Mark!¡± Eliot said.

    Mark smiled and roared, ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡±

    ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡± Isoko shouted.

    ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡± Eliot proclaimed.

    It was a nice moment.

    And then Eliot smiled as he said to Mark, ¡°So you heard the goblins calling you ¡®Blackvein¡¯, right?¡±

    Mark had an instinctual reaction to say, ¡°NO.¡±

    Eliot laughed.

    Isoko chuckled.

    David grinned.

    Soon, they were back in their seats, with David standing with them, and the ship lifted off into the night sky. Mark smiled as he saw the world descend, as the ruined rooftops of Rome came into view.

    Isoko laughed as she spun the wheel, sending the ship twisting.

    ¡°Isoko!¡± Mark snapped¡ª

    Right as Eliot said, ¡°Isoko!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fun!¡± Isoko said, grinning, as she leveled out the ship.

    Mark closed his eyes and breathed, and then he smiled.

    Isoko said, ¡°Let¡¯s go kill another wyvern and do another crash landing! I¡¯m sure I can land better this time.¡±

    Mark burst out laughing¡ª

    Eliot said, ¡°FUCK no. I¡¯m already calling Citadel for transport.¡±

    Mark laughed even more as Isoko spoke about having a bit more fun driving, and then she took control and gunned it. Mark held on to a chair, chuckling now.

    David smiled and said, ¡°I had complete faith and we¡¯re going back now, but we can certainly meet the hovervan closer to Citadel. If you want to kill some wyverns, you should, but with caveats.¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Isoko said.

    Eliot piloted a drone camera as he moved up to speak to Isoko, asking her questions about the whole experience, framing it as an ¡®exit interview¡¯ or something like that. Eliot told Mark that he was next, and Mark accepted that, he supposed.

    But for now, Mark sat down in his chair, and watched the night sky and the dark city of Rome flow by¡ª

    ¡°Wyvern!¡± Isoko shouted.

    Spotlights whipped to illuminate the beast, off the right side, coming in from the river.

    Mark launched out of his seat and looked out the window where Isoko was pointing. It was a pretty small wyvern, but it was still a fucking wyvern. Mark switched all of his Union, from breathing, to blood, to brain, to taking in vein integrity and giving back vein decay.

    Black miasmic death slipped through the world, bouncing between threads of reality and crashing into the approaching wyvern. It was a good 300 meters away, but Isoko¡¯s early warning was enough for Mark to latch on to it¡ª

    His threads doubled in thickness when he hit the target.

    The wyvern flew on, approaching like nothing was wrong at all. It was a strong one¡­

    But then it faltered. A hundred meters away it roared. At 50 it simply dropped. It lay on the ground below them, dying. It would not die for a while, but it was on its way. The ship flew on, but Mark connected to the wyvern for a good while. Half a minute.

    They left the wyvern behind before it died.

    Mark frowned as he blinked, adjusting himself back to normal operations. He said, ¡°It¡¯s not dead.¡±

    Isoko happily circled back, the cabin under the dirigible swinging outward as the whole ship turned fast. ¡°We can¡¯t have that now.¡±

    Mark glared at Isoko for a moment, while the ship settled back to hanging under the balloons, and Isoko just grinned at him.

    Mark killed the wyvern after another minute of concentration. ¡°Dead.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Good kill.¡±

    In a much more relaxed manner, Isoko turned the ship back north and continued on.

    Mark chuckled as he sat back in his sea¡ª

    There was a presence.

    A vector pointed at Mark.

    At Mark, specifically.

    His heart beat hard.

    Sweat broke out across his body.

    A primal sort of fear took hold as though he was being stared at from every corner of existence. As though he was being unmade by some sort of unseen sight. There, in the cabin of Citywalker 5, Mark was the only one not relaxed.

    Isoko happily drove, testing the waters with questions about extending the training mission. She wanted to fly over the Tiberranean and kill more wyverns.

    David, unaware of what Mark was feeling, said something about how they needed to leave certain monsters alone, because if they killed every large monster in an area then what came next might become a plague. Stable ecosystems were better than unstable systems.

    Eliot said something about how, ¡°Speaking of that! I did some poking at the internet, asking about the weird toxic slimes at the Vatican. Mark said how they were so immobile and practically sterile with their reproduction, ya know? And that is very true! They¡¯re specifically bred to be that way. They¡¯re ¡®Vatican Slimes¡¯. They were bred and placed there to keep the site mostly untouched! The slimes do a very good job of that, while leaving the location itself mostly undisturbed. The poison slimes to the north of the Vatican are a subspecies of the toxic Vatican slimes that¡­ Uh.¡± He looked at Mark. ¡°Uh. You look¡­ really pale, dude. You¡­ Okay? No. No, you¡¯re not okay at all, are you.¡±

    Everyone looked at Mark.

    Mark still felt the presence.

    It was out there, watching them.

    Mark said, ¡°Something is out there. It¡¯s watching us. It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s close. Holy fuck it¡¯s clo¡ª¡±

    Words failed Mark.

    In the dark of deep twilight, all of the lights of the entire ship flashed to full, to illuminate the world out there, to find whatever was hiding in the night.

    It appeared, but only because it wanted to.

    The world ahead of the ship turned into silver scales like layered breastplates. Black spikes along a spine, each the size of a car, drank in all light, resembling voids in the dark. Wings the size of streets. A face that was as large as the cabin of the flying ship.

    The thing eyed the cabin of the dirigible.

    It eyed Mark.

    All other concerns fell away as Mark recognized the dragon who was Addashield, and yet not.

    The dragon cheerfully said, ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if I wanted to appear, but you sensed me anyway. Perhaps we are talzarki, Mark Careed. Wonderful news.¡±

    The dragon unmade the flying ship and suddenly Mark was standing alone in the sky on a bit of wreckage, while everyone else was rapidly descending to the left, down to the ground.

    The dragon seemed to smile.

    Mark hit it with black veins.

    The dragon raised a very large silver arch of scales over its eyes, and then he chuckled a few times, vibrating the world, and Mark¡¯s power simply didn¡¯t touch the dragon anymore. He grinned, showing off car-sized fangs a little.

    ¡°Good first try but I¡¯m a bit beyond you, my happenstance brother,¡± the dragon cheerfully said, ¡°Let¡¯s talk!¡±

 073

    The night sky spanned from horizon to horizon as it usually did. The dragon was just a dragon. Large as a skyscraper. Big as a hundred buses. Silver, mostly, but also a black that was blacker than the night, that gonged gently, while all the rest of the dragon merely existed. The dragon was not as large as the sky.

    Somehow, the dragon took up the entire sky, anyway.

    Mark had hit the dragon with his best, strongest attack, and the dragon had said ¡®no¡¯. And so, Mark was here, standing on wreckage in the sky, about to die and full of unknown feelings. What was he feeling at that moment? It wasn¡¯t rage. Not really. Perhaps an emotion that was a brother to rage?

    Frustration?

    ¡°Good first try but I¡¯m a bit beyond you, my happenstance brother,¡± the dragon cheerfully said, ¡°Let¡¯s talk!¡±

    Frustration gave way to absolute rage.

    ¡°TALK?!¡± Mark found himself yelling, ¡°ABOUT FUCKING WHAT?! HOW YOU KILLED MY PARENTS AND AREN¡¯T TURNING YOURSELF IN AS A MURDERER?!¡±

    The dragon rolled some giant eyes and then said, ¡°Go ahead and scream and rage and hit me if you want, and then we can talk some more.¡±

    Mark did exactly that.

    Nothing he did could touch the dragon at all.

    How long did he keep trying? A minute? 10? An hour?

    Probably not that long at all.

    He crashed to his ass, onto the wood and the plastics that Eliot had turned into a floor, or something, which was in turn held up by black adamantium.

    Mark looked at the black.

    He wondered¡­ about a lot.

    Eventually, the dragon asked, ¡°Ready to talk?¡±

    Mark found himself saying, ¡°After¡­ After I learned of his crimes, I wanted Addashield to repent for his crimes, but no. That¡¯s not¡­ That¡¯s not why I did it. I did it because it was the right thing to do. To help Addashield be a Hero of Humanity again.¡± Mark looked up to the dragon. ¡°Are you him? Did it work?¡±

    The dragon¡¯s wings did not beat. He did not struggle to stay hovering exactly as he was.

    The dragon simply was, and all the world bent to his will.

    ¡°A complicated series of questions, really,¡± the dragon said, softly, in a speaking voice, though Mark knew he could probably roar and blast Mark apart with his simple voice. Kaiju were like that, and the dragon was a kaiju, for sure. The dragon continued, ¡°I am not him, and yet I am him in most ways that matter. I know all of the secrets of his life. I know ways to bring humanity crashing down, and, by that same measure, I know how to save everyone, and how I have saved as many people as I could, over and over and over again.

    ¡°I know how to secure humanity¡¯s victory over the monsters for the next thousand years, give or take a thousand years. Stuff could change tomorrow, or never again. Hard to know those sorts of things. I doubt there¡¯s a third hidden world out there, but you never know! That¡¯s one of the things that could cause a true Magefall again, like the one that separated Daihoon from Earth 5,000 years ago.

    ¡°But more important than hypotheticals of destruction, is that I want to continue in Addashield¡¯s footsteps. I like people. I like building. I like creating and founding. So I think I am close enough to him to count in most ways, except for the ways of guilt.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what was happening right now.

    But he was sure of at least one thing¡­ or maybe two.

    The dragon was either a very good actor, or he was sincerely not Addashield, because he certainly didn¡¯t sound like Addashield¡­ Though Mark had only known the archmage for¡­ what? Half an hour of talking before the mana vein flavoring? And then for a few hours during that Color Drop thing, when he was under the thrall of the demon, Kanda?

    Mark asked, ¡°Are dragons good actors? Or bad actors?¡±

    The dragon¡¯s eyes flexed, dilating then squinting. And then the dragon chuckled, rumbling the world. ¡°I think you mean as actual actors, and not as ¡®people who do things¡¯, but the terms are closely linked anyway. Yes; dragons are ¡®good actors¡¯, but they usually don¡¯t bother. It¡¯s an insult to a dragon to couch their words or hide their intent in any way, unless they are encountering an equal, or something they want out of a person that they cannot get through force. Full disclosure: I want things from you that I cannot get through force, so I qualify for this caveat. You should know now that I won¡¯t knowingly act in your worst interest, though, so that should answer most of your major concerns.¡±

    Mark yelled, ¡°You¡¯re acting in my worst interests right now!¡±

    The dragon did not look ashamed at all, as he said, ¡°But you wanted to be among those who fought and killed kaiju, so you only have yourself to blame now that you are among your own kind, and are being used in this arena.

    ¡°But that¡¯s really not important for interactions between you and I, Mark, because I will never knowingly act in your actual worst interest, which means a degradation of your personal abilities or position in the world.

    ¡°The fact that you don¡¯t like how you ascended is only partially a concern of mine.

    ¡°So what do you like in recompense, and in life, Mark Careed?¡±

    Mark was having difficulties.

    A lot of difficulties.

    He distracted himself by looking around¡­ And he noticed that the dragon was just hovering there, in space, and the city was down below, and there were lights over there where David, Eliot, and Isoko had¡­ ¡®crashed¡¯ to the ground? Or they had been set down? And the dragon was hovering. Not moving at all¡ª

    Oh.

    It was probably too dark to see, but the dragon was probably propping himself up by his adamantium spikes. Strong Shapers could just as easily rest on ¡®arms¡¯ or ¡®legs¡¯ made of their attuned substance.

    Mark looked up at the dragon, and said, ¡°I like killing monsters and making the world a safer place for people I will never meet, or know. That''s why I did the whole¡­¡± He gestured at the giant kaiju, not 50 meters away at his closest point, which was one of his silver and black eyes. And then he stopped gesturing. ¡°But I suppose Addashield is truly dead, because you don¡¯t act like I remember him, though I did not interact with him for long, or deeply.¡±

    The dragon smiled some, showing off big fangs, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure if that was a threat display for dragons or not¡ª

    ¡°Is a smiling dragon a good thing, or a bad thing?¡± Mark found himself asking.

    ¡°Ha!¡± The dragon chortled. ¡°Dragons are the product of humans, who have bodies, joined to demons, who have no bodies, so most of our innate actions stem from the same sort of biological makeups as humans, which are wholly responsible for innate biological reactions, as demons have no innate bodies.

    ¡°Smiles are smiles. Grins are grins. Eyerolls are eyerolls. A lot of the normal imperatives are different, though. Humans are no longer sexually interesting to me at all, but there are quite a few pretty dragons out there, and even a few kaiju, which is a very weird thing for me right now. Dragons are interested in power and aesthetics. I never really understood this until I became one. Still coming to terms with that.¡±

    Mark accused, ¡°So you are Addashield!¡±

    ¡°Well... I certainly don¡¯t feel 350 years old anymore, or, for that matter, 25,000 years old, if you want to believe a demon about their age. Kanda is pretty much gone, though; thank the gods. I probably ended up 99% Addashield. A very young Addashield that I could barely remember until recently. I feel like I¡¯m a teenager again. It¡¯s quite strange.¡±

    Sitting on his ass, Mark looked up at the dragon, and said, ¡°Huh.¡±

    ¡°I am surely some new life form, created from the union of my father and that demon. The fact that Father is 99% of my makeup is a quirk in the matrix, but not much more than that. I am not my father, or that demon,¡± the dragon said, finishing with a nod.

    Mark spent maybe a minute staring at the dragon.

    A lesson from the Empire of Foodstuffs cropped up.

    Mark said, ¡°Nations who undergo a change of ownership need to adhere to the old laws and customs of those nations in order to be accepted as a true change of ownership, and as a valid nation¡­ Or something like that. Is that what you¡¯re doing with the donations of adamantium? Are you doing enough?¡±

    The dragon hummed. ¡°I could do more, but I am not accepted as my father¡¯s replacement. Not yet. I am working on it, though.¡± And then the dragon asked, ¡°You partook of a Xerkona playgame, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean exactly, but it was called the Empire of Foodstuffs, and it was overseen by a Xerkona ambassador, yes.¡±

    And there was a dragon in that scenario that Mark had never gotten a chance to yell at.

    The dragon chuckled. ¡°That would be a Xerkona playgame, yes. A lot of good lessons there.¡±

    Silence.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what to say anymore.

    Mark defaulted to being polite, saying, ¡°Well hopefully you¡­ uh. I don¡¯t know what to say anymore, except¡­ I don¡¯t think I actually hate you, now that you¡¯re here and¡­ you. I guess. But it¡¯s still tough. You¡­ giving all that adamantium away to all those people and killing all those kaiju makes it a lot easier not to hate you.¡±

    The dragon grinned. ¡°Would you like to organize some of my interactions with humanity and be my mortal agent?¡±

    ¡°Fuck no.¡±

    The dragon laughed. ¡°You are rather young for it, anyway. I¡¯ll ask someone else. How do you feel about the Hero/Villain Program?¡±

    Mark frowned. ¡°The Hero/Vill¡­¡± His voice dropped away, and then he said, ¡°I¡¯m going to Daihoon for at least a few years, but I¡¯ve already been asked to be a villain by those people.¡± He suddenly asked, ¡°Do you truly need a partner on the other side of the fence for that whole thing? Is that why you¡¯re asking?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a part of Daihoon. That was Dad¡¯s whole thing. Now Endless Daihoon? I might go exploring that sometime, now that I can truly survive the deeper parts. But not Daihoon itself. I¡¯m rather sure I¡¯m sticking around here on Earth. You see, Dad not-so-secretly always had a certain fondness for the theater of the hero system you have set up over here. It¡¯s spectacle and fun, and no one really dies unless things get out of hand, and that rarely happens. Daihoon is so much more serious.

    ¡°So yes, I will likely become a part of that whole Hero/Villain Program. Still not sure in what capacity, but it seems fun.

    ¡°More importantly: I wish to be seen as approachable and good. I have way too much power and that scares people, as it should, but I don¡¯t want to be scary. I want to be a Hero of Humanity.¡± The dragon added, ¡°And so yes: I do want someone on the other side of the aisle to legitimize me. You seem to be able to hold your own and not fall over like most people. For that, and many more reasons, you qualify.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The world felt surreal.

    Mark felt compelled to point out that he was sitting down, and that he had attacked the dragon already, so he was certainly not able to hold his own, or not fall over, but that felt unnecessary. Instead, he said, ¡°To be honest, I am rather overwhelmed right now and I¡¯m rather certain you¡¯re just going to do whatever and what I say doesn¡¯t matter. This doesn¡¯t seem real¡ª Can you resurrect people?¡±

    The dragon paused, then said, ¡°Let¡¯s begin with the first point there. Yes. You are overwhelmed. But you¡¯re handling yourself well, but probably only because I¡¯m extending so far to reach you, because you¡¯re a good ticket for me to be legitimized in this world. You¡¯re one of the only people I have a connection to at all. Kanda made Dad kill almost everyone he cared about, and the ones she let him keep are the ones that now hate him, and me. But you¡¯re starting off, and we¡¯re talzarki, and that does mean something to me. To Dad.¡±

    Mark looked up at the dragon. ¡°Talzarki, huh?¡±

    ¡°Happenstance brother. ¡®Two or more people forged in the crucible of a similar horror, and then walking through life as something close to family¡¯. It¡¯s a chosen-family sort of thing.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what to say about that, so he said nothing.

    The dragon nodded, like a silver battleship gently bobbing in an unseen ocean. He continued, ¡°And yes, I am going to do what I want, and what I want is to have a connection to humanity. I certainly won¡¯t be accepting human laws on my person, but I will be an ally to humanity; a hero, once again.¡± The dragon Looked at Mark, adding, ¡°And once you get enough personal power, you would do well not to accept all the laws they try to place on you, either.¡±

    Mark nodded, unsure.

    What would one really say to a dragon, in this situation, in this time, in this place?

    Mark had already tried attacking.

    So he nodded.

    ¡°As for resurrecting people, there have always been stories of that sort of thing but Dad never found any credible evidence to support the stories. It was always some animated horror, or a Natural power that faded if the caster ever stopped, or necromancy that cobbled together an astral body and then stuffed that astral body back into a physical form which always resulted in nightmares made manifest.

    ¡°Transferring living astral bodies from one form to another is possible, and actually rather horribly easy if you set it up right, but actually bringing back the dead is not possible, because the astral body, the soul, the mind, are all gone when a person dies,¡± the dragon said, ¡°But if such a thing is possible, then the elves of Endless Daihoon might know of it, if the elves even exist. Chasing after elves to learn of resurrection magics would be like chasing after two impossible dreams. You might have better luck approaching the Old Dragons that we kicked out of the ruling halls of Daihoon to see if they know something about resurrection. Chasing dragons would be too dangerous for you as you are now, or in any other normal capacity.

    ¡°But you could survive all of that by declaring yourself as my brother, with all the attendant responsibilities thereof.¡±

    Mark stood up.

    He wasn¡¯t sure how he stood up, but he did it.

    ¡°Ground rules!

    ¡°You are a hero in public and private and in your heart of hearts! Don¡¯t bother me! Get a phone and call before you show up! I don¡¯t fucking know what else but probably some important shit! Very important shit! I am still mad at your father, of whom you are 99% of! I don¡¯t know what that means! Brothers means we yell and fight and don¡¯t actually want to kill each other, I think! But I¡¯m pretty sure I want to kill you for some reason! And I¡¯m yelling for some reason! I¡¯m going to end up doing some shady shit in my life because of you and I¡¯m going to hate you for it!¡± Mark roared, ¡°I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A HERO! Not a tool of a thinking kaiju! AND I WILL NOT BE YOUR TOOL.¡±

    The dragon rapidly, delightedly said, ¡°All accepted! Also! In the Hero/Villain Program the villains are basically just trainers for the heroes. The television part of it is all just fun and theater. You should still go to Daihoon.¡± He grinned. ¡°We¡¯ll be traditional brothers, too. Not those noble backstabbing brothers that they do in the royal families of Daihoon. Real talzarki! I was thinking you could get a girl, too, or whoever really, and eventually have kids! And I can be their uncle! It¡¯ll be great! Anyway! That¡¯s the whole thing I want. Nice chatting with you, brother. Here¡¯s some starter weapons for you, ~Blackvein~. I¡¯m still thinking of my own name, and I kinda like Silvervein, now? Not sure, really. I¡¯ll figure it out. Addavein? I am a great source of adamantium, after all.¡±

    A tiny wooden box tapped Mark in the chest, and he grabbed it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll protect you as a good brother should when I¡¯m around, but I won¡¯t be around you most of the time, so¡­

    ¡°Don¡¯t go dying!

    ¡°Later, brother!¡±

    The dragon vanished and Mark¡¯s platform rocketed to the ground and then stalled out, slowing, before it slipped into the side of a hole cut into another dirigible. Mark barely felt any change in direction or gravity at all while the whole thing moved as fast as it did, which was odd, looking back on it, on this, on everything. Everything was so odd. Mark¡¯s twisted plastic-and-wood platform slapped onto the floor of a cabin that was slightly different from the previous one that Eliot had built.

    Eliot, Isoko, and David were there, staring at him.

    Mark gestured to the hole in the cabin. ¡°There¡¯s a hole in the cabin, Eliot.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Eliot said, nonchalantly. ¡°A dragon made it so it¡¯s kinda hard to fix. Astral body contamination, and all that.¡±

    Isoko casually said, ¡°He had to remake the ship already.¡± She asked Eliot, ¡°Need to remake it again?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Eliot said, as he glanced at a tablet. ¡°And the hovervan is close. It was circling while Mark spoke to his brother, but it¡¯s coming in now. And oh! There it is.¡±

    Mark looked back to the hole in the wall.

    A hovervan was just beyond.

    David walked that way first, and then everyone else went, too, and soon, Mark watched from a window as the dirigible fell apart and turned to scrap, to continue falling down into the ruins of Rome.

    An undetermined amount of time passed in silence.

    A minute?

    Four minutes?

    Maybe only 30 seconds.

    Mark looked at everyone else, and said, ¡°So I¡¯m probably going to freak out soon and¡ª¡±

    ¡°HOLY FUCKING SHIT, MARK,¡± Eliot said, as cameras floated around. ¡°HE¡¯S YOUR FUCKING BROTHER NOW?!¡±

    Isoko laughed maniacally, throwing her head back and guffawing, chortling into the back of her hand as she waved off Eliot¡¯s camera, generally being unintelligible for a good 5 minutes.

    Meanwhile, Mark just went still, as Eliot asked even more questions that Mark didn¡¯t know the answers to, and David merely sighed a little, looking out the window, ahead, in the direction they were going.

    ¡°So you¡¯re not his mortal agent?¡± Eliot asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even want to talk to him.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s in the box!¡±

    ¡°The box?¡± Mark looked down at his hands. He was holding a small wooden box. ¡°Oh. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Open it!¡±

    ¡°No thank you.¡±

    Isoko called out, ¡°Okay! Okay! I¡¯m not giggling anymore. I think I fucking pissed myself, too. Sorry. So that was fucking terrifying.¡±

    David continued to look forward as he spoke for the first time, ¡°You handled yourself well, Mark. I have no idea how you managed that, but you handled yourself well.¡±

    Eliot watched and Isoko giggled some more.

    Mark said, ¡°I did try to kill him, like¡­ for a good 10 minutes there.¡±

    Eliot whispered, ¡°I have it on camera if you want to see.¡±

    Mark continued, ¡°So I am pretty sure I did not handle myself well at all.¡± He managed to breathe easy, and he also managed to realize that he wasn¡¯t running Union right now, so he turned Union back on and started beating resilience and weakness.

    The amount of black coming out of his body was a lot right now.

    Everyone noticed.

    David turned, eyed Mark, and said, ¡°The fact that you attacked him on sight, and that the dragon wanted something from you, is the only reason you¡¯re alive right now. I¡¯m not exactly¡­ qualified to speak on this, but I believe that dragons wouldn¡¯t want to be brothers with weak people. He would have killed you out of shame if you would have cowered. But the fact that you attacked him allowed him to show himself as the true power in the relationship, which calmed him down a lot, and made him more secure in picking you as a brother.

    ¡°You tried to fight, and the dragon saw that, and respected you for it. He respected you for telling him off, too. But the fact that you put an onus on him to act like a true hero now obligates you to act in your chosen role as well.¡±

    A moment passed in silence as Mark thought.

    Mark asked, ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re officially his brother, now, for one. Other than that you need to sign up for the Hero/Villain Program as a villain. Probably under Crystal Tower itself. Then we¡¯ll get you some help to leave for Daihoon. What will likely happen is we will want you to disappear into Daihoon and allow the dragon to play out whatever realities he has away from you.¡±

    Isoko smirked as she spoke up, ¡°And he wants Mark to have kids!¡±

    Mark felt his stomach drop all over again. Exasperated, he said, ¡°The fuck is that about!¡±

    David said, ¡°Ignore it and walk away from it, Mark.¡± He looked over to Eliot. ¡°You send the video off, yet?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I sent it to COFR, like you said.¡±

    David nodded. He said to Mark, ¡°There¡¯s nothing more to be done about anything, except, I need to know how you felt up there. Did you really try everything against him? All of the tricks that Lola taught you? Everything?¡±

    The moment crystallized.

    Mark felt ice in his veins and his astral body pulsed with even more blackness, veins tracing into the air around him. With a small voice, Mark said, ¡°Yeah. I tried... everything. My¡­ I think my astral body was too weak¡­ or something. I couldn¡¯t reach him.¡±

    Would he be able to reach that dragon with a few more years of training? Of life?

    Or was that a foolish pursuit?

    David said, ¡°Lesser dragons would be easier to kill, but ¡®easier¡¯ just means that you might be able to actually touch them. They all have the same full-spectrum-resistant astral body that an archmage or a demon has, and it takes skill and experience to be able to piece something like that. Isoko has a version of that type of Body, too.¡±

    Isoko giggled again. She waved them off, not able to speak right now.

    Something else crystallized for Mark.

    Mark asked, ¡°How would I go about learning how to kill a dragon?¡±

    David said, ¡°The Slayers, that organization you wanted to join, has a Dragon Slayer division. The Dragon Slayers are the top ranked people in that organization. The ones they send after dragons; if that wasn¡¯t obvious. Part of reaching that rank is learning which dragons to kill and which ones to work around, because they are not a monolith, Mark. Some of them do help humanity. There¡¯s actually a whole culture still devoted to dragons over there.¡±

    Mark rapidly decided to ignore whatever his ¡®brother¡¯ had done to him and his life and the idea of a ¡®culture devoted to dragons¡¯, and said, ¡°I was already going to the Slayers, so that makes it easier, right?¡±

    David didn¡¯t want to lie to him, so he said nothing.

    Everyone else kinda just fell silent¡ª

    ¡°Open the box?¡± Eliot asked, eyes focused on the box.

    Mark looked at the box, clutched in his hand. It was plain wood with a slide-in top that was secured with a small spike of wood driven into a hole in the lid and the box itself, acting as a lock for the box. The whole thing was half the size of a fist. Some things softly rolled inside, clicking and clacking, as he moved the box around.

    Mark stared at the container for a little while.

    And then he pulled out the little wooden wedge and opened it up.

    There was a bunch of black marbles¡ª

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said. ¡°That¡¯s adamantium.¡±

    David was looking in the box with Mark. He stepped away, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t lose it. It¡¯s hard to get more.¡±

    Eliot whispered, ¡°Easier than ever, though.¡±

    Isoko commented, ¡°I heard he¡¯s up to 15 tons given away?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°17.5 at last count, which I have just done. That¡¯s only the public number, though.¡± He whispered, ¡°Private number is likely estimated to be 21 tons. How much would that be? Just a few spikes?¡±

    Isoko added, ¡°And he grows them, too.¡±

    Mark swirled the box to isolate one of the marbles to the side, away from the other ones, and then he poked a finger at that isolated one¡ª

    It was like someone had thrown a pile of bricks onto his body, weighing him down, crushing him into his seat.

    It was an existential weight, pulling at his every soul.

    He dropped the box and the marbles ran across the floor of the hover van.

    Eliot cried out, ¡°Fuck!¡± and he started picking them up¡ª

    David, moving too fast to see, suddenly had a handful of marbles. He put all the marbles from his hand into the box, and then he closed the box and handed it to Mark, saying, ¡°When we get back to Citadel you need to focus on Adamantiumkineis, Mark. Use the next few days or weeks to gain proficiency. You might spend a week longer in Citadel, but you¡¯ll be moving on fast and you need to be able to use this part of your Power.¡±

    Mark took the box and he could already feel his astral body wanting to connect to the adamantium. Had there been a spell on the box, to prevent that sort of connection, before he opened it? Or was simply being aware of the contents enough for Mark to try and instinctively connect to it?

    Whatever the case, Mark held the box without trying to connect to it, and the rest of the flight back to Citadel was relatively quiet.

 074

    Mark sat in his room, staring at the box of black marbles.

    Perhaps, if the dragon hadn¡¯t shown up, then he would be out partying with Eliot and Isoko.

    For some reason, that specific loss of joy caused Mark to turn incredibly, incandescently angry.

    It was now 3 am, and Mark had spent an hour in an interrogation room with David and Orissa about what had happened out there with the dragon. They had asked him a bunch of angering questions that Mark knew they had needed to ask him, but which he did not appreciate. Everything from ¡®are you a hidden dragon?¡¯ to ¡®are you in league with the dragon?¡¯ and ¡®are you planning on using the dragon to enact some sort of power over this or that part of humanity?¡¯. All of that sort of thing. The Mind Reader, Doctor Cheryl Appell, had been there.

    They didn¡¯t need him to actually answer, but answering felt important, so Mark had given answers that were as correct as he could make them. They were the same sorts of questions that he had been asked when he first came to Citadel, apparently, though Mark did not know that, considering he had been incredibly out of it for a whole week after the Tutorial.

    After this most recent interrogation, Cheryl, who had told Mark to call her Cheryl, had said that Mark had done very well with the dragon. Mark had achieved the ¡®best sort of outcome possible, when dealing with alien intelligences born from dead archmages and demons¡¯.

    None of those questions had bothered Mark. They needed to protect humanity, and Mark was fine with being questioned in that way.

    But here, alone in his room, Mark had missed out on celebrating the win over the goblins.

    And that pissed him off way too much.

    Mark got to his feet. ¡°Fuck that fucking dragon. I¡¯m partying.¡±

    He called up Eliot.

    Eliot answered instantly, excitedly, ¡°Mark! They let you out of interrogation yet?!¡±

    Mark was glad to hear the guy¡¯s voice. ¡°They did. I need to hang out and watch stupid television shows, or something. Want to do that? I need to call up Isoko, too.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Isoko is here with me at the house. None of us can sleep. Her grandmother is on the phone with my mother right now. The dragon showed up at Crystal Tower and signed up for the Hero/Villain Program! He called himself ¡®Addavein¡¯! He filled out your paperwork¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± Mark said, cutting off Eliot¡¯s probable rush of information, and feeling some weird kinda way about everything. ¡°Not over the phone. In person: yes. Not on the phone. I¡¯ll hop on the tram and come over there.¡±

    ¡°Yes! Come over here!¡±

    Mark hung up.

    And then he stuffed the adamantium pellets under some books and papers in his desk.

    He was on the tram in minutes.

    - - - -

    Mark sat by the pool, watching the sun come up, as he had a really nice omelet. Eliot and Isoko had their own food, similar to Mark¡¯s, and they all had mimosas.

    After Mark showed up they had spent the first hour drinking and talking wild shit about dragons and kaiju and what they meant as real threats, and how it was so much different to see one in person. The second hour they had watched documentaries for aspiring kaiju hunters, and how the pure terror of a kaiju, and a dragon, were the hardest parts of fighting them. People were truly so small, no matter the powers they might have, when compared to beasts the size of several city blocks. Literally the only way to survive a kaiju was to be faster than they were, which was a problem because all kaiju showed up with entire ecosystems growing on them that made up for all of their deficiencies.

    And now Mark, Eliot, and Isoko were out here, watching the sun come up.

    Isoko sipped her champagne and orange juice, the bright yellow drink sparkling in the sunrise, as she said, ¡°So those goblins were pretty terrifying, yeah?¡±

    Eliot burst out laughing.

    Mark grinned, and then he started laughing, too.

    Isoko smiled as she laughed, too. ¡°They kinda got overshadowed!¡±

    ¡°A little bit!¡± Eliot said. ¡°Holy fuck Addavein is big!¡±

    ''Addavein''! Bah!

    Mark got suddenly disgusted, then weirded out, and inundated with all sorts of tangled emotions. Those emotions seemed to come pulsing out of him in the black veins that rushed down his arms and into the air around him. The flow pulsed larger, taking in resilience and pushing out weakness, as Mark gave an exasperated, ¡°And he¡¯s just picking that name, huh!¡±

    Isoko smirked. ¡°What? You wanted it?¡±

    Mark found himself disarmed, his veins retreating. ¡°Not really! ¡­ I guess!¡±

    Isoko grinned some more. ¡°So I got Chosen about 20 minutes ago.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide at the change in conversation.

    Eliot smiled. ¡°Congrats!¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s your mission?¡±

    ¡°I have options,¡± Isoko said, ¡°I can continue on to the Grand Guard in Crytalis, like I originally planned, or I can join any of the empires of Daihoon as one of their roamers. The Aluatha Empire, the Dominion of Okuana, and the Settlement of Xerkona all need warriors, anywhere. She even told me I could work with the Slayers, if I wanted. She just wants me somewhere killing monsters and protecting a team. Any of those work for Freyala. She¡¯ll grant me Union of Breath and soon Blood, after a trial period. But! I don¡¯t actually have a team yet.¡± She asked, ¡°So I was wondering what your plans were?¡±

    Mark went wide-eyed. His heart beat hard and his black veins faded by half. ¡°You want to party with me?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Isoko said, throwing water on Mark¡¯s fire. ¡°Not really. I cannot keep up with you. That¡¯s a simple fact. You¡¯re an exponent above me, Mark. I already know how it¡¯ll happen, too. You¡¯ll eventually gain the ability to fly with your adamantium stuff, and I¡¯ll be on the ground, and a liability. Maybe I¡¯ll be able to fix that eventually with flying magics, or something like that. I don¡¯t know. But that won¡¯t happen for years. Maybe not ever.

    ¡°But I¡¯ll be at some sort of home base, if you want to work out of Crytalis, or somewhere else. I do want to work with you, even if I can¡¯t keep up with you. Maybe we can party for small monster kills, though, until you find some people who are at your level. That is something I would absolutely want to do.¡±

    Mark felt all warm inside. ¡°Yes! I absolutely want to party with you¡ª But why do you want to party with me? That damned dragon is going to¡­ I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s going to do, actually. I have a feeling that I need to vanish.¡±

    Isoko grinned. She said, ¡°I want to party with you because you¡¯re a guy who I can trust to have my back out there in the wilds.¡± She stopped smiling. ¡°And¡­ Well. Addavein is something I need to not be scared of. I might not be able to fight dragons or kaiju myself, but I can at least not be scared of them. If I¡¯m not running, screaming, then I can support others with Union.¡± She shrugged. ¡°We might not stick together forever, but you¡¯d be a good person to step onto Daihoon with.¡±

    While Mark was having a bunch of really nice, funny and light feelings in his chest¡ª

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Eliot said, ¡°People are always asking grandma to go out and build cities in the wilds and I have her same Power, and she asked me if I wanted to take over some of her workload. There¡¯s this city building program that all of the empires have. If you two are interested, I¡¯d like you two to come with me to those places. I¡¯d like to build cities in the wilds with a competent team backing me up. I¡¯m shit against monsters, as you saw, but city building is¡­ It¡¯s something that I am realizing that I could be very, very good at. But monsters are fucking terrifying and I need to be, uh, not exposed to monsters, ever again. Not without some heavy meat shields in front of me, and preferably self-healing meat shields.¡±

    Mark felt all kinds of good.

    Isoko grinned as she teased Eliot, ¡°Mind goblin got your courage?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Eliot said, emphatically. ¡°I think those shits might be more terrifying than the dragon! At least that dragon was willing to talk. The goblins just want to eat you.¡±

    Isoko smiled. ¡°I think the dragons want to eat you, too.¡±

    ¡°At least they come at you directly! They don¡¯t hide¡­ oh shit. Addavein was completely invisible before I shined the lights on him, and you called him out, Mark.¡± Eliot¡¯s brown features turned almost pale. ¡°Oh fuck. Invisible kaiju.¡±

    Isoko laughed.

    Eliot whispered, ¡°I need to get a whole lot stronger.¡±

    Isoko laughed loudly, like happy bells chiming.

    Eliot eventually grinned, though it took a minute.

    Mark felt a bunch of butterflies as he practically giggled. He smiled. He wiped away some tears. ¡°I¡¯d love to head in both of your general directions, too.¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Isoko said, and then she raised her glass. ¡°To heading in the same general direction!¡±

    Eliot and Mark both laughed, and said the same sorts of words.

    Breakfast was good.

    At the end of it, Mark asked Eliot, ¡°Are you doing the Chosen program, too? I forgot if you said so or not.¡±

    Eliot hummed as he winced, then he looked around at the house, to see if anyone was watching, or something. They were pretty much alone out here, for his mother was elsewhere, his father and the butler had left them alone, and his siblings were out for the day, too. Right now it was just Eliot, Mark, and Isoko at the house, and also the butler. Eliot had been the one who actually cooked the food, and prepared the meal.

    Eliot still looked unsure about what he said next, ¡°I¡¯m still Freyalan¡­ but Hearthswell is all about emplacements and stuff.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows went high up, and then she drank down her fourth mimosa. ¡°Shit.¡±

    ¡°Oh fuck! That¡¯s right!¡± Mark asked, ¡°How did you guys end up as Freyalan when Hearthswell is the Castellan, the Empire Builder?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still learning the story,¡± Eliot said, ¡°But grandma is the one who had Man-made Manipulation to begin with, and she was all about adventuring, back before that word gained a bad connotation in the 90s. Grandma is still out there putting up outposts in the wilds, too. She loves it, and she has a whole team that helps her. But¡­ But I¡¯ve gotten some really, really good offers in the last few hours since I handed the goblin extermination video over to COFR for final approval. And I want to explore those offers.¡±

    Isoko refilled her mimosa, as she asked, ¡°What kind of offers?¡±

    ¡°Possible Castlekeeper of Hearthswell.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyes went wide.

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a step below Freyala¡¯s ¡®high priest¡¯,¡± Eliot answered. ¡°I wouldn''t start there, of course, but instead I¡¯d be a Housekeeper. Which would be¡­ simply amazing, really. At a base function it would make all my buildings grow in Power Level depending on¡­ A lot of factors, really. I¡¯m probably going to have a fight with my whole family about it, but¡­¡± Eliot paused. ¡°My family never wanted me to be a ¡®bard¡¯, anyway. They told me that I¡¯d be wasting my Power and dying in some hole.¡± He frowned a little. ¡°And I think they were right. The goblins really woke me up. Mind shit is awful.¡±

    Eliot looked distraught.

    Isoko was unsure.

    But Mark smiled, and said, ¡°That sounds awesome, Eliot! Diversity in Power is good, and I¡¯m not quite sure how Union would be the best fit for you, anyway. I have absolutely no idea about Castellan, but even at the surface level it¡¯s a much better fit, right?¡±

    Eliot looked a bit more secure. ¡°Yeah. It is.¡± He smiled, adding, ¡°I even got a good offer from Pluta, the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity, but I¡¯m a lot less certain about that one than Hearthswell. I think Pluta was just putting it out there to see if it worked at all, so she won¡¯t mind if I forgo it.¡±

    ¡°Hearthswell, huh?¡± Isoko asked, ¡°That¡¯s gonna be a big deal, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Eliot said, looking more worried by the moment. ¡°All the Cybersongs are going to freak.¡± He gestured at the world with a wide, open gesture, saying, ¡°But we¡¯ve already got Hearthswell people here, in Citadel, keeping the place secured. Every city has some of her people in it. A city isn¡¯t a city without Hearthswellians there to hold it down. And the cities I make¡­ I¡¯ll be able to make a place and then actually secure it all on my own¡­ Theoretically.¡±

    Mark smiled wide, saying, ¡°Sounds great to me!¡±

    Isoko tried to sound confident as she said, ¡°Sounds excellent, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot grinned a little, looking better.

    Isoko moved on, ¡°So you finished the goblin extermination video?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± Eliot said, falling back into a more comfortable topic. ¡°Soon as COFR gives final approval then it¡¯s published. I expect to get more offers after that. I really showed off what I can do. You both are probably gonna get big offers, too, as soon as the personal AIs of the powers-that-be poke at it and send it upstream to whoever might be interested in what we can do. Do you want me to organize those communications for any of you?¡± He rapidly added, ¡°To be clear, I¡¯ll send them your way, or tell them ¡®no thanks¡¯. I don¡¯t want to be anyone¡¯s agent.¡±

    Isoko downed the last of her mimosa, saying, ¡°I need sleep, and I also need those offers, yes. Send them to my email, through COFR. All of them. Just put my email onto the video¡ª Actually. I¡¯ll make an account, too, and then set that up with a first video and you can link to that. Can you hold off on posting the video until tomorrow?¡± She stood up. ¡°I need sleep first.¡±

    Eliot grinned and stood up, saying, ¡°Sure. I can hold off. How about you, Mark?¡±

    ¡°No offers for me. I already have a good idea of how that will go, and I don¡¯t want to stick out there too much and deal with people trying to¡­ woo me, or whatever.¡± Mark stood up, saying, ¡°I¡¯m gonna have a few more meetings with Inquisitors, or whoever. After that I¡¯m just signing up with the Slayers¡­ Unless a really good offer comes through? COFR can sort through that stuff, right?¡±

    Eliot shrugged. ¡°You might want to consider investing in a personal AI unless you¡¯re going to stick with Freyala for a long time.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m gonna stick with Citadel Freyala forever, really. Lola wants me to declare for Freyala and become a Paladin because I need the legitimacy. Before last night my need for legitimacy was rather high, but not a burden. Now that I¡¯m ¡®a dragon¡¯s brother¡¯ I need that good legitimacy.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°You need to sign up for the Hero/Villain Program too. You could have Crystal Tower sort your inquiries¡­ And now that I say that, I need to sign up for that stuff, too. I¡¯m going the villain route, too. ¡®Platinum Princess¡¯.¡±

    Mark had some mixed emotions on that, until Isoko mentioned her ¡®villain name¡¯. He grinned. ¡°Pretty pretty princess.¡±

    ¡°The prettiest!¡± Isoko said, grinning, as she flashed platinum for a moment, to shimmer in the morning light like a golden goddess, all reflective and glittering.

    ¡­ Mark suddenly felt burdened for a whole host of reasons.

    He said, ¡°Still have no fucking clue what being talzarki with Addavein means¡­ And I¡¯m sorry for dragging you two into that.¡±

    Mark almost asked them if they were ¡®going in his general direction¡¯ instead of ¡®partying with him¡¯ because of that dragon, but Mark didn¡¯t actually want to know that answer. Not really. It was better not to know that the dragon was fucking up his life that much.

    Eliot smiled softly. ¡°Not your fault.¡±

    Isoko teased, ¡°I already had very good reasons for not partying with you directly, Mark. Eliot is the one that got scared off.¡±

    Mark¡¯s face felt a little hot. Was he that easy to read?

    Eliot¡¯s face got a little red, too. ¡°We¡¯re still going in the same direction!¡±

    Isoko grinned, and then she led the way out, saying, ¡°Great food! Better than fish soup.¡±

    Eliot walked with her, and Mark hurried to follow, as Eliot said to Mark, ¡°Sorry. Facts are facts and she¡¯s¡­ not exactly wrong.¡±

    Somehow Mark¡¯s heart felt lighter, even though the facts of reality felt heavy.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m glad we got to hang out, though.¡±

    Isoko scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t say that like it¡¯s the end! This is just a start.¡± She yawned as they walked through the main foyer of the house, then said, ¡°Let¡¯s try to end up in the same settlement expansion area. We¡¯ll figure it out.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Sounds good to me. And yeah. We¡¯ll figure it out.¡±

    Eliot asked, ¡°It might take a month before we leave, but that gives us time to do paperwork and stuff?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°A month or something,¡± Mark said.

    They parted ways at the front door, with smaller words of ¡®next time¡¯, and thanks for the food.

    Mark ended up on the tram with Isoko, headed back to the dorms, where they soon parted ways, with Isoko yawning again.

    Mark got back into his room, and found his adamantium pellets still there, in the little box in his room.

    He crashed out on the bed.

 075

    Mark woke up to a notification from Eliot. The video was live.

    Mark texted back a ¡®thank you for telling me!¡¯, then proceeded to finish waking up. It was 6 PM, and after getting dinner in the mess hall, then taking a nice shower, Mark went back to his room and turned on the video, on his big tablet screen, as he took out the box of adamantium pellets.

    Eliot¡¯s voice started blasting over the video, ¡°Welcome back to another episode of Very Human! I am your host, Eliot Cybersong, and this is the story of how my friends and I nearly got killed by mind goblins, and then we met the dragon! So without further ado, here¡¯re the main protagonists!

    ¡°Me! I¡¯m Eliot Cybersong¡­¡±

    Eliot did big intros for himself, and then also Isoko, who were both trying to sell themselves as heroes, or monster hunters, or something along those lines. Mark was pretty sure it was a general ¡®hyping¡¯, which was good for both of them. Eliot even included some history about both of them that Mark was sure was going to get them noticed by¡­ professionals? Or someone? Mark wasn¡¯t sure, exactly. Eliot came from a line of city builders, which was not that surprising. Isoko came from a family of villains and supervillains, which was news to Mark; he had only known about Wandering Sage, but there were others of the Kanno family who did villainy all across the globe.

    And then Eliot introduced Mark.

    ¡°Oh yeah. There¡¯s Mark Careed. Let¡¯s not bother him. He knows what he wants out of life.¡±

    Followed by a scene of Mark, raising a fist to the sky and yelling, ¡°DEATH TO ALL MONSTERS!¡±

    It was kinda cringe.

    Mark loved it anyway.

    The video was 2.5 hours long, and there were secondary videos on the channel, linked to the main video, that contained all of the recorded heat map of the entire battlezone, as taken from Eliot¡¯s scanners. That second video had timestamps to connect to the first video, but other than that, the second video was straight up 30+ hours of recorded mapping.

    Mark didn¡¯t watch more than 2 minutes of that secondary, bigger video. There was a pop-in of the battlezone map when there was an actual battle, and that was enough to see what had happened from a logistical standpoint.

    A third video was the 2.5 hour video condensed down into 20 minutes of action, and Mark imagined that one would get a lot more views, but he watched the 2.5 hour one, anyway. The smaller video was a highlights and ¡®story¡¯ video, but the 2.5 hour one was done in a style that Mark had never really seen before, called an ¡®extermination video¡¯, and it was meant to fully illustrate how the team approached every encounter, and how it all shook out, and the various influences on every single battlezone. It was more ¡®documentary¡¯ than ¡®killing video¡¯.

    Mark leisurely watched the video, only cringing a bit here and there when he saw himself make mistakes. Eliot didn¡¯t linger on those mistakes at all, so maybe only Mark would notice them, but he was sure veterans would notice those slips, for sure.

    And all the while, Mark tried to pick up a single bit of adamantium.

    He had to use a fork to pick up one of the metal pellets and then drop it on the bed in front of him.

    Honestly, it kinda scared him to pick up the metal, because one of two things was going to happen.

    He was going to crash and be unable to move while he held the metal, for sure. That much was not in question. That was simply going to happen.

    But, either he would be able to move himself enough to drop the metal and thus dislodge the weight from his astral body, and be able to move again.

    Or, he would simply be locked in, unable to move his hand or his body, until his astral body grew accustomed to the weight, and he was able to move it around. That might take hours. A full day, maybe.

    He had been told a few different times that if he simply took the adamantium he had from the Vault and held it for half a day, allowing himself to be incapacitated, then he would figure out how to lift it one way or another. With that in mind, Mark would technically be ¡®fine¡¯ if he couldn¡¯t dislodge the weight.

    But¡­

    Mark had been locked in a hospital bed, in a coma, for 107 days, and then his recovery had taken¡­ It had taken an archmage almost falling and all of Addashield¡¯s shit and then a Color Drop treatment to be able to walk and move and be himself again.

    Mark stared at that little black dot of metal, sitting on his bed sheets, as Eliot¡¯s video played in the background¡­

    He found himself thinking of Addavein again. Specifically the sound of those gonging metal spikes on the dragon¡¯s back. It was a deep sound, a rumble, just like the dragon himself, like an avalanche. A hillside falling down¡ª

    Mark grabbed the pellet and instantly regretted it as he slumped to the side, against the wall, his hand locked around the pellet.

    Ah, he thought. It¡¯s the ¡®stuck in the hand option¡¯, I see.

    He wondered when that would happen. He was surprised it hadn¡¯t happened already.

    Mark sat there, gripping the pebble, listening to the video play as his head hung down and his shoulder pressed against the wall. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from slumping forward, and face planting half onto his tablet and half onto a pillow. The tablet tumbled to the rug in the middle of the room and continued to play.

    Mark would have mumbled ¡®fuck¡¯ if he could have.

    And then he realized that he couldn¡¯t use Union, either.

    He couldn¡¯t control his breathing. He couldn¡¯t control his heart. He couldn¡¯t even flicker Union of Brain with the world, to draw in resilience and expel weakness.

    Mark did not panic.

    He merely realized that all of his astral body strength was being contained by the little bit of adamantium in his hand, and thus, there was nothing to panic about at all.

    He was still breathing. He was still alive. He was fine. Autonomous functions for the win!

    He was Perfectly Fine!

    Mark wanted to scream.

    He was pretty sure his breath was coming out ragged now, as he breathed against the pillow, his body crumbled down onto his face and his right arm, while his left held the drop of adamantium and would not let go.

    Mark did not panic.

    Okay! Okay. Focus.

    Focus, Mark.

    You can do this.

    Mark thought of his recent Scan, as of 12 hours ago, when he came back from the training mission and got debriefed by David, Orissa, and the Mind Reader, Cheryl.

    Body, Healthy Body: 038

    Shaper, Adamantium: 051

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    Mind: 37

    Natural, Union: 062

    Soul: 35

    Arch: 29

    Or something like that.

    Adamantiumkinesis was up to tier 5, PL 51. This meant that he should be able to lift some adamantium just fine. Even with just his body. Therefore, he should be able to lift this little bit in his hands.

    Mark struggled. He grappled. He couldn¡¯t move a finger at all.

    He couldn¡¯t mo¡ª

    He could still blink. Mark blinked, and realized he could do small things. And his body was still working just fine.

    Five minutes later, Mark managed to move his body, just a little. He rocked a bit to the left. He listened to the recording of David talking about the two goblin heads he was holding, and Eliot paused the video to talk about how goblin biology worked.

    Five more minutes passed, and Mark was able to move a bit more.

    His astral body was not growing that much stronger, that fast. No. Quite the opposite, really. He was only able to move because his astral body was experiencing an overload-type event, and when his astral body overloaded, then¡­ Well. His kinetic Power simply didn¡¯t work when he overloaded, right?

    Maybe.

    It was like his body wasn¡¯t his own. The world felt fuzzy as he moved. Indistinct. Like he was slightly drunk, in a bad way. No euphoria at all; just inability to control oneself.

    Five more minutes passed, or maybe one, or maybe seven, and Mark tensed his arm, and his arm actually moved.

    Five more minutes passed, and Mark¡¯s astral body had gotten weak enough from trying to hold the pebble that his Power sort of just gave out. Mark¡¯s hand opened and the pebble fell away and Mark launched upward, feeling so fucking weird that he was finally free of the pebble. He almost flopped onto the ground. He managed to stay standing, breathing easier. Feeling better.

    The pebble was still there on the bed.

    Mark got into a better position, laying down properly, and then he put his hand on top of the pebble¡ª

    And was sucked back down into the weight of the pebble, that wasn¡¯t really a weight at all.

    Eventually, when the pebble grew to be too much, he was able to use Union again, in a small sort of way.

    This proved to make everything much, much harder.

    When he healed his astral body, strengthening himself back to full Union power, it also healed the stress that the pebble was causing him, so the full weight of the pebble once again returned, because his astral body was ¡®strong enough¡¯ to get sucked back into the pebble¡­ maybe.

    It took time.

    It took patience.

    A full hour later and Mark gripped that damned fucking pebble in his hand as he stomped on the ground, hunched over, glaring at the ground, because that was the only thing he could see right now.

    He breathed out weakness, a miasma escaping his body as thin, wispy black veins beat from his body, into the world. He breathed in resilience. The pebble got heavier as strength returned to his astral body, but that was fine.

    Mark was handling it.

    His black veins gathered in his palm where he still gripped the adamantium, and Mark opened his palm.

    The pebble hovered in his astral body.

    It hovered. An inch from his palm, the pebble hovered.

    Mark chuckled maniacally.

    The drop of metal hovered there, connected to him by wispy, shadowy tendrils, his entire astral body focused on that damned pebble, like how a lodestone cast metal filings into arcs around magnetic fields. Mark breathed and beat with a flow of resilience and weakness, and his black veins shot through the pebble, into the world, like light through a lens, distorting and refracting.

    He almost collapsed again.

    He maintained.

    Mark stayed like that, Union active, struggling to hold the pebble in his astral body¡ª

    The pebble slipped.

    Mark¡¯s black veins scattered to the winds, the tiny drop no longer containing his demand for healing and protection. His Union flashed wide, filling the room, but Mark pulled it back. He breathed easy, though sweat still poured off of him. A few beats of purity/impurity cleaned his body up, and then he looked down at the ground, at the pebble.

    He reached down with a hand¡ª

    He paused.

    Mark felt out a weird, new sense, that he was just starting to understand. He had an astral body that he could control like limbs, so he used that ephemeral, existent-yet-not part of himself to pick up the pebble.

    Tentatively, like moving hairs, or maybe pushing out with a breath that was not a breath at all, Mark touched-without-touching¡ª

    It was like picking up a 300 pound full-body weight.

    Mark grinned as he struggled, his astral body locked back on to the tiny bit of metal, practically sucked inside of it¡­

    But 300 pounds? Big deal! He was benching 300 these days!

    Mark stood as tall as he could¡ª

    The pebble fell out of his astral body again.

    Mark laughed as the pebble dropped onto the carpet.

    With limbs and muscles he never knew he had, Mark reached down, astrally, to the bit of metal, and he picked it up again. Instantly, the weight was back.

    It was a lot damned easier than lifting weights, that¡¯s for sure. With actual weights you had muscles you were using and vectors of gravity, and all of that junk. This tiny little pebble felt like an entire world, like grappling with gravity itself. It didn¡¯t matter where it was in Mark¡¯s astral body; he felt it everywhere. That¡¯s because it wasn¡¯t actually a gravity-based demand on his body at all. It was an astral demand, and the tiny pebble sucked up his entire astral body, the whole thing¡­

    Or at least that¡¯s what it had been doing.

    Mark grinned.

    Mark''s astral body was too strong for one pebble anymore.

    As his Union danced to a rhythm of resilience and weakness, all the strain of the pebble remained at full strength. His astral body did not weaken with too much of a load upon it. All it did was get stronger.

    It was like lifting weights and resting at the same time.

    It was not the most mentally taxing thing that Mark had ever done.

    But it was close.

    With a smile, Mark tried moving his astral body, moving that tiny bit of adamantium, to reach down and press the pause button on the video. The black pebble bounced off of the tablet, and nothing happened.

    Huh. Well. Guess that doesn¡¯t work.

    Mark almost stumbled as he moved his actual body, to grab the tablet and set it back on to the bed, and then go back 20 minutes to see some of what he had missed.

    On the video, Mark watched as Eliot and Isoko went out into the city, while Mark was incapacitated, and got some metals from some old cars.

    In his room, Mark floated one pebble in his aura, gently orbiting it around a hand, and then up over his shoulders, and over his head, hitting the side of his head a bit because he messed up his ¡®new proprioception thing¡¯ happening here. He was a baby learning he had fingers and toes, and everything about this was so odd, but also really, really fucking cool.

    Mark was moving around a tiny bit of the strongest metal known to man, with some sort of extension to his body he still didn¡¯t understand. The tiny bit of metal was like a lodestone to his nearby black veins, as it floated over his body. The absolute strangest thing about it, though, was that¡­ Mark could feel the adamantium. Like. It was a finger. Or something.

    Mark touched the carpet with it, and felt the softness of the carpet on the metal, though it was a dull sort of feeling. Mark touched the stone walls, and the stone was harder, but Mark accidentally put too much pressure on the adamantium and his whole body tilted the other direction. The adamantium was very strong, but the floor was reinforced, and Mark¡¯s body was easier to move than the floor was able to be moved.

    It was like pushing off the ground with a pinky finger. Mark had only been moved because he hadn¡¯t been ready for it.

    Also, maybe that wasn¡¯t the strangest thing about it. Mark knew that kinetics used their various attuned things as ¡®parts of their body¡¯, so, tactile feedback? Sure! Why not.

    And, perhaps more than anything else, Mark instinctively knew that as long as his astral body was strong, no one would be able to remove that bit of metal from his control. It was like a disconnected finger, that was still very much connected. If someone yanked on that metal, Mark would find himself yanked instead. They couldn¡¯t take it from him¡­

    Which was pretty cool!

    Mark made the mistake of trying to pick up a second pebble.

    He crashed to the ground.

    Air escaped him like a groan of annoyance, because that¡¯s exactly what it was.

 076

    David frowned a little at the video feed, showing on the screen to the side. It was midnight, and Mark had moved on to his third pebble, and then promptly collapsed onto the ground again. That boy was¡­ driven. Sure. Let¡¯s go with that. ¡®Driven¡¯.

    David thought he was trying to do too much, but that was the singular defining feature of all superheroes, so was he really doing a lot? Probably just enough to stay ahead of all the new demands placed on him, really.

    He turned back toward the other Inquisitors in the meeting of the Collective.

    Most of the people at the meeting were on tele-conference, and the conversation had not stopped when COFR had alerted them to Power use inside Mark¡¯s room, but it had briefly paused to ascertain the situation. David wasn¡¯t worried about Mark using his Powers. In the opinion of practically everyone here, the situation was fine.

    But some hardliners from Daihoon were unconvinced, and those people were the ones that demanded this new meeting after they saw the public video of Eliot¡¯s training mission. It showed basically the same thing that David had transmitted, but in a bit showier way. That showier show had led to this.

    Eliot certainly had the bardic spark, but David was glad that Eliot was giving up his bardic career for the good of humanity. In an odd sort of way, he was even glad that Eliot was in talks with Hearthswell¡¯s people. Castellan would do a lot more to keep Eliot safe than Freyala.

    It was still a major upset to a very powerful political bloc, though, so David dared not speak those sorts of words and get involved in that sort of schism. People were already half-blaming David for Eliot¡¯s newfound appreciation for never-leaving-the-house.

    David ignored those outside problems and focused on the present, for Lola was speaking again.

    Lola, ever poised, repeated the same points she had already hammered on several times, as succinctly as anyone could hammer, ¡°He¡¯s growing at a disastrous rate, but he¡¯s not an actual disaster, and I do not believe he will ever become a disaster. His own basic nature as a human-who-values-humans will not allow him to do such a thing. Adding to that: the simple rule of law is that we don¡¯t censure or control based on ¡®what ifs¡¯. That goes triple when dragons try to control how humanity moves and acts.¡±

    David found himself nodding¡ª

    Lola did not drop it, though. She advanced, saying, ¡°I move to formally close the case against Mark as a possible future threat, or hidden dragon, and deescalate his case from an 11 to a 5, with further deescalation to follow. Furthermore, I formally request for Crytalis and the Aluatha Empire to figure out some sort of plan for a settlement creation somewhere that Mark Careed, Isoko Kanno, and Eliot Cybersong can participate in, together. I know you already have tens of these plans already. I ask for one of them to be enacted.¡±

    There was a moment.

    Any paladin of Inquisitor rank was allowed to participate in these sorts of meetings, but most did not. Due to the nature of this particular event, and how far-reaching Mark¡¯s whole deal went with ¡®Addavein¡¯, a lot of people were here in this meeting, though most everyone was tele-conferencing.

    There were only 100 screens in the room, but those hundred screens showed 335 different groups, or individuals. Over a thousand people.

    Even the gods were watching, though only through their people.

    A lot of people tried to speak.

    Moderator Chambers was the first to press a pause button, though the other Moderators were close behind. On Chambers¡¯ screen, Chambers became illuminated in COFR gold and his image grew larger. He was an older man of normal looks from Crytalis, dressed in his normal mage robes and looking proper, as he said, ¡°As one of the parties responsible for carrying out Inquisitor Lola Turner¡¯s secondary request, I will be speaking of her first request, first. All of those in favor of deescalating the case of Mark Careed to a normal level of Inquisitor investigation, from an 11, world spanning threat, to a 5, a mage or superhero-level oversight, please say aye, now.¡±

    David, Lola, Orissa, the Mind Reader Cheryl, and Holy Mother Julia Garin¡¯s stand-in, a man by the name of Chase, all said, ¡°Aye.¡±

    Rapidly, votes started coming in.

    David thought it was too premature to completely remove oversight on Mark, but dropping down the investigation from an 11 to a 5 was a good common ground. Lola probably could have gotten away with a 3, which was the common number for all trainee superheroes. Mark would warrant a 5 eventually, but he was still a trainee, right now...

    Eh!

    Mark was going to end up a 5, for sure. Might as well go for the end result right now.

    As expected, when the votes came in and the AIs counted the votes, Moderator Chambers announced, ¡°With a 78% agreement of the lowering of Mark Careed¡¯s threat level, Mark Careed is lowered from an 11 to a 5. Breakdowns of the final votes will be given to all voting parties. Heavy dissent of this lowering has been noted by the Inquisitors of Crytalis.¡± With a calmer face, Chambers looked to Lola and said, ¡°As for your secondary request for placements of Mark Careed, Isoko Kanno, and Eliot Cybersong, into a settlement program, I foresee this discussion taking a long while and ultimately arrive at no conclusion at all, for Eliot¡¯s inquiries to Hearthswell have sparked something of a bidding war over him. I wish to table that discussion for a week.¡±

    Lola was obligated to respond, so she did, ¡°I request to be informed when that topic comes up for discussion in a week. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°So noted,¡± Chambers said, ¡°Moving back to the discussion of Addavein, and since we¡¯re here at the discussion of settlements, it should be noted that the dragon has spoken of founding a city since none of our cities are willing to take him in, in any capacity at all. I move we center the following discussion on this fact¡ª Yes. Inquisitor Saikou Jawo, from Crytalis.¡±

    Inquisitor Saikou was a purple-tinted man with bright blue hair and an angry expression, but that was just how he looked. Perhaps he might be slightly angrier than he truly appeared, though, because Saikou had been Addashield¡¯s secondary oversight for the last 20 years. More of an oversight of tens of different cases than a true oversight, though, for Saikou was one of the main overseer Inquisitors located in the Aluatha Empire.

    During his Fall, Addashield had killed his primary Inquisitor oversight, the understudy of the primary oversight, and everyone within a kilometer of them. Saikou was one of the survivors of that disaster, because he had been located far away from that disaster.

    Saikou spoke with a calm voice, ¡°There are many factors to consider with regard to Addavein and his desire to become human-adjacent, and thus live inside of a city, or at least nearby.

    ¡°Primarily, public sentiment is split about the dragon. Some of the Old Houses, built upon the bounty of benevolent dragons, wish to support Addavein. Many do not, considering how almost all of the dragons abandoned humanity once new lands opened up, and once unknowing subjects became available to subjugate and control. The few dragons who remained on Daihoon attempted to subjugate all of the people who remained¡ª¡±

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    Some images on the screens lit up, for some people wished to speak on this matter.

    A few people who wished to speak were almost furiously pressing their buttons.

    Saikou had a few minutes to speak, though, and he was going to take his time.

    ¡°¡ªand a few of those dragons would have been perfectly fine to have as rulers. Gedahowla the Bright. Darvonika the Obsidian. But those dragons fell to usurpers, and so we banished all dragons, and things have been a lot better since then. We no longer have to devote 20% of any and all city output to placating and honoring the whims of any dragons. We have equal say in our homes.¡±

    Some of the people who ¡®absolutely needed to speak¡¯ based on the light around their images, sat back down, and decided to say nothing.

    Saikou continued, ¡°And so, I would not be surprised if, in the Aluatha Empire, House Ordell and House Varash attempt to support a dragon-led city. And especially one led by Addavein. There is already a lot of talk over here about how ¡®disrespectful¡¯ we¡¯re being to a ¡®Hero of Humanity¡¯ who managed to make the ¡®best dragon we¡¯ve seen in recent history¡¯, according to popular opinion. Addavein has yet to approach what Gedahowla and Darvonika have done for humanity, but he is headed in that direction.

    ¡°But I believe that anyone who allows Addavein into their cities or empires will open the gates for other dragons to come back into our lives, and thus we must guard against even Addavein gaining a city.

    ¡°That said¡­ I believe the dragon will make major attempts to get a foothold in any city where Mark Careed goes, because I firmly believe that Mark, as talzarki to Addavein, will invariably invite Addavein into that city, and those new cities will not have the capabilities to resist that sort of pressure. He might not mean to, but his actions paint him as an uneducated good man, and he will try to cause the least harm, which means not inviting a dragon¡¯s wrath.

    ¡°So perhaps we should focus the conversation on containing the problem of dragons and cities to a single city, somewhere, and thus solve and create a bunch of problems at the same time. Addavein¡¯s creation has ignited a great deal of simmering sentiment about dragon overlords, and so, Addavein is going to get a city, one way or another.

    ¡°We should expect whatever happens with Mark Careed, Eliot Cybersong, and even Isoko Kanno with her connections to Crystal Tower, to make a city that both causes a great deal of problems, and also a great deal of solutions to a lot of current problems.¡±

    Saikou finished.

    David found himself deeply worried about dragons coming back into all of their lives, and he knew he was not the only one feeling that way.

    Moderator Chambers said, ¡°I believe that might be enough said on that entire subject for a while, for that is a lot to think about. Thank you, Inquisitor Saikou. A vote then, to move on to smaller topics, or to remain discussing Addavein. Please vote now.¡±

    Soon the votes came through and Addavein as a topic was dropped.

    297 groups faded from the screens as Chambers began reading off the next topic.

    David stood up, and told his people, ¡°I have places to be. I¡¯m glad Mark got lowered in threat.¡±

    Lola smiled softly as she stood as well. She told Holy Mother Garin¡¯s stand-in, ¡°Thank you, Chase, for the alert.¡±

    Chase nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll let you all know if Mark or the dragon come up again.¡±

    - - - -

    Eliot sat down across from Mom and Grandma in a small room on the third floor.

    This was going to be the third discussion about this stuff, but the first one with Grandma here, and so far it was already feeling a lot more serious.

    Elysia Cybersong was a 25-year-old-looking woman, with bright auburn hair, piercing blue eyes, and an agelessness to her that could only happen through demons, or True Healer treatments, and Grandma had opted for the True Healer treatments. She could afford that, and a hundred times over, too. She was actually something like 80-ish, but she did not look 80-ish at all.

    Grandma opened strong, ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand the main draw of Freyala, Eliot. Hearthswell¡¯s Castellan can make a city more protected and organized and run smoothly, and at first, that seems like a good thing. And it is! I have three Hearthswell Inquisitors that work for me. You¡¯ve met them.

    ¡°They empower the walls I build. They make the computer systems flow better. They basically take the cities I make, and make them function better. This is great!

    ¡°But Freyala¡¯s Union does something that few other Powers do. It allows you to work endlessly. You can put up a city wall that¡¯s 20 kilometers in diameter in a day. You can protect yourself outside of your city, too. You¡¯re never without truly good healing, Eliot, and you can learn to defend yourself, too. That¡¯s a big deal.¡±

    Eliot calmly said, ¡°I hear and understand, Grandma, but you could have a Union Paladin heal, protect, and sustain you, couldn¡¯t you? That¡¯s what Mark did. If I went with Hearthswell, then I could do all of a city all by myself, and make sure that I¡¯m actually protected behind very good walls.¡±

    Grandma frowned a little. Mom gave a tiny, unhappy hum.

    Eliot added, ¡°One Freyalan Inquisitor, and then myself, is all I need to build an entire city.¡±

    ¡°A city that you would have to leave to other Hearthswellians,¡± Grandma said, ¡°Because it needs people there to maintain what Hearthswell can do. You can¡¯t maintain it from far away, or from another location. You¡¯re locking yourself into one city if you pick Hearthswell.¡±

    ¡°I know that, but I can hand over the cities to other people and let them maintain it just fine.¡±

    Mom added, ¡°Didn¡¯t you want to travel, Eliot? To see the two worlds? To be a bard?¡±

    Images of mind goblins assaulted Eliot. The air itself felt prickly with teeth, but there were no teeth at all. Eliot knew he was safe, but¡­ Was he? Really?

    Eliot softly said, ¡°I did want to see the two worlds.¡±

    Mom and Grandma both got quiet.

    Grandma said, ¡°It was bad, wasn¡¯t it. Mind goblins are the easiest ones to counter, too.¡±

    Eliot exclaimed, ¡°Yes! Exactly that! It was terrifying! They just¡­ They just put me to sleep, like it was nothing!¡±

    Eliot didn¡¯t want to think about it, because thinking about it was like pulling off a bandage and seeing that his skin was rotten underneath, or maybe it was like touching a stove. It was bad.

    Grandma nodded, knowingly.

    Mom got a look of disbelief on her face as she looked at Grandma. ¡°Mother?¡±

    Grandma said to Eliot, ¡°Thanks to Freyala, I haven¡¯t needed to worry about mind monsters for 50 years. I¡¯m a High Paladin, Eliot. You would be a High Paladin, too. You could still travel the world as a Freyalan. Hearthswellians put down roots. Do you want to live in one city forever that will make you dependent on that city? Or do you want to put up cities anywhere and everywhere, and never be beholden to those who run those cities? Because that¡¯s what roots gets you; it gets people tugging at you, and you unable to leave them behind because you won¡¯t want to leave them behind.

    ¡°I still remember bouncing you on my knee, talking about all my adventures on Daihoon, and how you wanted to see the grand falls, and the floating mountains, and the Half-There Ocean. Hearthswellians never get to see those places, except on television.

    ¡°Freyalans get to see all those places, and more.¡±

    Eliot frowned a little, in thought.

    Mom just waited.

    Grandma waited, too.

    ¡­ Dammit. Grandma was changing Eliot¡¯s mind right back to Freyala, wasn¡¯t she.

 077

    Isoko had been Chosen by Freyala.

    But that was just the Goddess accepting Isoko, if Isoko wanted. The other half of the Choosing still needed to be done.

    But how?

    When she had left Mark and Eliot at that breakfast the other day, three days ago, she had been thinking of a great many things. From her uncertain present, with her burgeoning connections to Mark and Eliot. To her past, with Tokyo, and to Crystal Tower through her grandmother, Wandering Sage. To her future, and wherever that might take her, and to be allied with Mark and Eliot in ways that she was unable to fully reach, for her future was not nearly as big as either of theirs.

    But Isoko had made peace with her Platinum Body, and it wasn¡¯t just lip service anymore.

    During the goblin clearing, Isoko had come to terms with her Power, and she loved it. Mark would get laid out with overexertion. Eliot would need actual protection from constant threats. But Isoko would never stop. She would survive everything. There was a place for Isoko, wherever she wanted to be, because she did want to be a healer, a protector, and a killer of threats.

    She liked being untouchable, and she could do that with Freyala¡¯s constant help.

    She never spoke about her own history much with Mark or Eliot, which was a bit of a one-sided part of their partnerships, so maybe she should talk to them just to keep things even. Isoko had good reasons for wanting to be untouchable. It wasn¡¯t anything deep, though. Not like Mark¡¯s trauma, or Eliot¡¯s big obligations to his family, and the world.

    Isoko just didn¡¯t want to be annoyed by other people anymore.

    Growing up attached to Wandering Sage, the supervillain, had put quite a few stressors on Isoko, that most kids probably never felt. Fingernail polish dumped in her school bags, hair-pulls in hallways that dropped Isoko to the ground, tampons in her shoes, and even schoolyard fights. Isoko had experienced a whole bunch of childish shit that bothered her, but only because people were trying to bother her. The only truly terrible thing that had ever happened during her first 18 years of life was when her older sister, Riku, had gone into the Tutorial 5 years ago and never came out.

    For a long while, the family assumed that she had just gone to Daihoon without telling anyone.

    But then years passed, without a word.

    So Riku was dead.

    Honestly, Isoko had wanted to talk about her life with both Eliot and Mark, but Eliot always had cameras on and Mark¡­ Well. He would have understood and commiserated, but Isoko could never talk to him about that. It would have been rude to talk to Mark about her own troubles when Mark had so many of his own.

    Eventually, though, they would talk about it.

    Because Isoko wanted to search for those mythical elves who could bring back the dead.

    Mark hadn¡¯t latched on to that part of Addavein¡¯s words (because it was insane to try and bring back the dead, or search for elves) but Isoko certainly had latched onto those dreams uttered by a dragon. Even if she succeeded she fully expected to find it all nothing more than rumors that never went anywhere. But she wanted to try,

    And so, Isoko needed power.

    A lot of power.

    Which had led to today, to choosing the path through the Freyalan Church that would get her the most power possible.

    Some people went to Freyala in a System message, clicking off a box and declaring their attentions and choices in a private matter. Some went to a church, where they spoke to a priest who then asked questions and guided a person into the faith.

    Isoko had been fraught with worry about her future. About what it all really meant, and about how she could ever hope to stand on the same stage as future superheroes¡­ or supervillains, she supposed.

    Isoko chose a traditional method.

    Or rather, the traditional method chose her.

    She had gone to bed last night, still wondering, sort of, what would happen next.

    She woke up at 3 am due to a knock on the door. There was a clothing box sitting outside. The box had contained a simple white shift; basically a pleated white cotton bag, with holes for the arms and head. It was the traditional method of being inducted into the Church of Freyala, and now that the box was here, and the white shift felt soft in her hands, Isoko knew that she had made all the decisions she could.

    It was time.

    Freyala was calling, and Isoko would answer.

    Isoko wore that shift now. She was not the only one wearing the same thing. 17 people stood near her, all of them wearing just a shift, and nothing else.

    The ground was grassy and soft. The sun rose beyond the horizon, turning the world from gentle blues into true light. A golden sky glowed, announcing the start of a new day, alongside birdsong echoing in the trees.

    The cleansing pool was brilliantly clear. Its banks were solid white marble. The basin was pure white stone, and a small fountain burbled in the center. Tall white stone pillars stood around the pool, like they were columns holding up the heavens.

    The golden sky held the most colorful, beautiful clouds that Isoko had ever seen. The kind of clouds that Grandmother could only make when all things in life aligned correctly, from humidity, to time of year, to framing the sky from the proper viewpoint.

    The beauty of today felt like something special, but also incredibly plain.

    A comforting sort of beauty.

    Instructor Charms was there, in the waters, wearing the same sort of outfit as everyone else, and nothing else. She was the half giant of a woman who sat on the far left of the instructor skybox. Here, the waters came up to her waist, and she looked a lot more gentle than usual. She smiled softly.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Isoko hadn¡¯t attended the last few days of Brawny Sparring, so she had kinda missed whatever had happened there, but she was glad that Charms was out here again. She always seemed like the best one of the instructors¡ª

    The first rays of sunlight touched the tops of the white pillars around the cleansing pool¡ª

    The first acolyte, a man Isoko¡¯s age, went in, walking across the grasses, stepping into the waters. He gasped a little as he touched the cold waters, as he stepped down into the basin, and his white shift clung to his skin, but also kinda floated.

    Isoko watched as Charms said small words to the man, and then she took one of his hands into her own, and put a hand on his back. In a smooth motion, Charms dipped the man into the waters, hand too, all the way under. And then she brought him out and the guy was smiling, brushing off his face as though he had been crying, his face reddening a little bit as he chuckled and then walked out of the pool, away from everyone else.

    One by one, people walked into the waters for a dip and then a walk out the other side.

    No one rushed to get in. No one rushed to get out. Everything happened as it should.

    Isoko recognized the dance after the third dipping. The air felt like Mark, but vastly wiser, and infinitely more powerful.

    Freyala was here, and she was happy.

    And then Isoko walked forward, right in time to the dance that was life.

    The water was cold and Isoko¡¯s Platinum Body reacted to the stimuli, her body briefly flickering platinum and then retreating as Isoko recognized the stimuli as just cold water. She stepped down the step, into the basin, her shift floating around her, up to her chest, as she walked to Instructor Charms.

    Instructor Charms smiled gently. ¡°Hello, Isoko Kanno.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Instructor Charms.¡±

    Charms took Isoko¡¯s hand in one of her own, and then she put a hand on Isoko¡¯s back, saying, ¡°I¡¯m glad I got to be the one to introduce you to Freyala.¡±

    And then Isoko splashed through the world itself.

    - -

    Isoko opened her eyes.

    She was sitting on a park bench, next to a woman in a sundress.

    The woman was dark skinned, but also made of light. She was pale as alabaster, and pink like a sunset. Purple, now. And then green. She was every range of human coloring, and also just herself. Just a woman. No confusion about her at all.

    She was the world, and the world was her.

    She was Freyala, and her voice was Unity Itself.

    ¡°What is your choice, Isoko?¡±

    Isoko breathed out, ¡°A Slayer, and a killer of monsters. To travel the world and kill what needs killing, to save what needs saving, and to explore what needs exploring.¡±

    Freyala nodded, as though Isoko¡¯s decision wasn¡¯t a thing she had just decided yesterday, but in fact the revealing of a truth that Freyala had seen long before Isoko had ever known her own destiny.

    Freyala said, ¡°You will start off a Nascent Red Slayer, then rapidly advance to Orange, to Yellow, and then to Green. A distant goal for you is to become a Dragon Slayer, or to belong to the team of a Dragon Slayer. That is what I need from you. That is what this Choosing demands from you, Isoko Kanno. There are no individual goals for you; only the big one at the end, and then a life fully lived as a Dragon Slayer, as best you can.

    ¡°You begin with the Union of Breath, and the Union of Blood. Good and Bad, Durability and Weakness, and Resilience and Weakness. You will have access to lesser versions of Purity and Impurity, Sustenance and Deprivation.

    ¡°In time, your limitations will be lifted, and expanded.

    ¡°You expected to be a simple Chosen, but I need you to be a Paladin, Isoko Kanno.

    ¡°The world needs you.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyes were wide as she felt an ineffability press down onto her and then pull her upward in a swirl of bliss that showed her all of reality.

    Colors clashed.

    Pain was forgotten before it was even felt.

    Isoko expanded in every direction at once¡ª

    - -

    Strong hands pulled Isoko out of the water and Isoko brushed away tears and cold, clear waters from her face. She looked up at Instructor Charms, and wondered if the last moments with Freyala had happened, or not.

    And then Charms smirked, an eyebrow raising, before she whispered, ¡°Welcome back, Paladin Isoko.¡±

    Words filled Isoko¡¯s vision.

    Attention Isoko Kanno!

    You have entered into the Chosen System for the Goddess Freyala.

    Current benefits: Union of Breath. Union of Blood.

    Limited to these forms of Union: Good/Bad, Durability/Weakness, Resilience/Weakness,

    Limited to these lesser forms of Union: Purity/Impurity, Sustenance/Deprivation

    Current mission: Become a Nascent Red-ranked Slayer.

    Distant mission: Become a Green-ranked Slayer, a Dragon Slayer, or a part of a Dragon Slayer¡¯s team.

    Charms patted Isoko¡¯s back, saying, ¡°Time to sign up for the Healer Club.¡±

    Isoko grinned so very much. She wiped away a tear or two, and then she slipped on the bottom of the basin, flopping into the water some, only to laugh under the water, and then start swimming over to the exit.

    She rose from the cleansing pool, feeling wonderful for her brief foray into the divine.

    And then a priest of the church was there, handing out towels and a bag of Isoko¡¯s clothes that she had organized earlier, and ushering people into dressing rooms. Isoko slipped back to normal life easily enough, but nothing was the same. Nothing could ever be the same.

    She felt present in a way she could not articulate at all.

    That feeling would ebb and flow, and never really go away, from that moment forward.

    There was an exit interview with some clerics, and Isoko got placed into the system of the Church easily enough. Soon, she had a badge, an ID, a rule book to follow for best practices, and a question.

    ¡°How much do you wish to be involved in the organization? At the lowest level, which you are now, you¡¯ll get big updates through COFR and be tied into the system for small updates, in whatever area you happen to be in. It¡¯s a whole thing, and you can check it out. All paladins get that. You can raise your position in the organization through accepting quests and such. Mostly, though, paladins are all driven by their own quests, so you don¡¯t have to be bigger in the organization at all, if you don¡¯t want to. But there¡¯s always work to be done and we can certainly find you some, if that is what you want. Taking on actual work pays actual money, too, so that¡¯s a good reason to increase your standing in the organization.¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°I know where I¡¯m going. I¡¯ll be paid money as a Slayer, too.¡±

    The cleric nodded. ¡°Very well, then. Now, as for learning about Union. Healer Club is always taking members, and...¡±

 078

    Mark had only left his room to eat. Isoko and Eliot, David and Orissa and Lola, had all visited, but Mark had not gone out to do a single thing. He was busy.

    He was ¡®bodybuilding¡¯. Astral bodybuilding, to be specific.

    And now, four days after getting the pellets from Addavein, Mark felt accomplished.

    He held up a hand and 7 droplets of blackest ¡®water¡¯ melted into one big drop that Mark then split into 8 pieces, to become 19 pieces, to become 37 pieces. His control over the exact form of the droplets was less than perfect, but it was good enough, for now. The drops still pulled at his black astral veins, but the pull was a lot less today than it had been when he first started. It was as though his astral body was stronger.

    Because it was.

    As the liquid drops floated in his astral body they deformed his black astral veins just a bit, and only when the drops swirled close to his veins.

    It was harder to make them liquid than it was to just use them as-is, so Mark released his deep hold on the drops, and suddenly they turned as solid as, well, adamantium. They rolled across his skin like tiny marbles, in several lines of control, not deforming Mark¡¯s black veins at all.

    Like he was moving a whole lot of fingers he didn¡¯t know he had, Mark moved the marbles into lines around his wrists, and then he turned them briefly liquid, joining the ¡®strings of black pearls¡¯ into bracelets. He released his control on the adamantium, not moving it around at all with his adamantiumkinesis¡­ but the adamantium was still firmly embedded in his astral body. To shake his hands, in an attempt to shake the adamantium bands on his wrists, was like¡­ well. Like shaking his hands. His hands were still firmly attached to his body. The adamantium was still firmly attached to his astral body.

    Sure, it wiggled some, but only because¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t sure why it wiggled some, actually.

    With a tension in his astral body (which was still weird to think about, and which was very different from using Union) Mark held the adamantium solidly in place, and wiggled his arms. This time, the bangles just held there, without falling any sorts of ways either up or down or this-way-and-that his forearms. It was like he had ¡®tensed his muscles¡¯, or something.

    With a twist, Mark turned one of the bangles into two long needles, and then he poked the air, as though jabbing with a punch. He stepped left and right in his room, jabbing the air with his fists, and then with the adamantium spikes¡ª

    He accidentally pulled back too far, and one of the spikes crashed into Mark¡¯s shoulder, while the other slipped through his shirt, to impact his ribs. Briefly, Mark panicked, but there was no pain, because of course there was no pain. Mark sighed a little, and then he looked at the fresh set of holes in his shirt, and also at the bent black spikes, hovering in the air.

    He couldn¡¯t hurt himself with adamantium, but it was still kinda freaky to hit himself with it and not be injured at all.

    Mark reformed the bent spikes into solid metal¡­ He grinned.

    He looked at the floor.

    Carefully, very carefully, Mark made four ¡®coins¡¯ of adamantium, each two inches across, and then he pushed against the floor. It was like trying to do a handstand, but with his astral body, and not like a handstand at all. Mark tilted left and almost fell but he concentrated on his weird ¡®new muscles¡¯, and he balanced himself out.

    ¡°Hehehehehee.¡±

    Mark lifted into the air, just an inch, and that was almost too much. His astral body tired, his adamantium felt almost outside of his control. But Mark¡¯s heart beat with resilience and weakness, and Mark lifted himself off of the ground.

    A full 6 inches!

    And then a full foot!

    Mark giggled maniacally as he hovered on legs and arms that were not legs and arms, but was more like an amorphous blob of astral body that was not his maximum distance at¡ª

    Mark faltered a bit, flopping back down to the ground, feeling exhausted. He smiled and laughed and gathered his adamantium back up into bracelets.

    ¡­ But were bracelets really the best form to keep it in?

    It took concentration to change the shape, and was actually kinda hard to change the shape. It had taken Mark two entire days to realize how to make the stuff liquidize and become something other than pebbles. That whole process made what Addashield had done with the rapid transformation of a droplet of adamantium into a whole bunch of different shapes that much more impressive.

    Actually moving the stuff around was as easy as moving an arm, or a hand, or whatever. It wasn¡¯t like the adamantium couldn¡¯t actually pierce his body unless Mark really tried to do exactly that. There was a reason that Addavein used big spikes of adamantium; they were weapons when they were shaped like that. Mark transformed the bracelets into spikes that he¡­

    Well.

    Where was he gonna put spikes?

    Behind his ears? Might help to protect his head, some.

    Could he turn them into a bunch of spikes and hide them in his hair? That would be better for protecting his head than ear-spikes...

    Mark made six needles and he laid them on the insides of his forearms. They sat pretty flush with his skin there, so that seemed good. Mark practiced moving around the needles with fast deployments and more methodical defenses, and kinda just had fun with it¡ª

    Mark had a moment, looking down at the adamantium that touched his skin.

    This was technically like¡­ 36 million goldleaf worth of adamantium, wasn¡¯t it. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what the current going-rate was for adamantium, because the dragon had certainly crashed some of that economy. But this was still a lot of adamantium.

    ¡­ Mark just stared at it for a while.

    He thought of Mom, and Dad, and Dad¡¯s fish yank, and Mom¡¯s cleansing waters.

    Mark concentrated on all of his adamantium to turn a black blob into a fish. Making the body of the fish was easy enough, but delicate features proved to be impossible. Mark tried to make fins, and he ended up pulling blobs away from the main body. He tried to make scales and he divided the fish in half. Eventually, he managed to make short, stubby fins and attach some blobs of black to make exaggerated eyes. He couldn¡¯t make the scales with his own sense of pressure, or touching, for he wasn¡¯t that refined yet with his kinesis. But he could use a fingernail to press crescents into the adamantium, to give the little fish some ¡®scales¡¯. That worked quite well, so he proceeded to sculpt the rest of the fish with his actual fingers.

    Soon, he had a perfect, tiny little fish. Like a bait fish. Like one of Dad¡¯s fish clips.

    The tears came, and they didn¡¯t stop for a while.

    Mark held onto that little fish in his hands and curled up around it, crying. Eventually, he lay down on the carpet and stared at the ceiling as he floated the fish above him.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    - -

    It was Christmas, and Mark was a kid, watching Dad decorate the tree, while Grandpa made popcorn for the movie, and Mom sat with Mark, trying to figure out which movie they were going to watch. Mark remembered looking over and watching Dad finish off the tree. He had done most of the decoration two days ago, but he had found some tinsel and he wanted to put it up.

    Little fishclips swam through the colored lights, though the air, fluttering with collections of streaming silver tinsel among the green boughs and hanging decorations. The fishes landed here and there on the tree to leave their streamers behind, while the air smelled of popcorn and cheese, and Mom said something about this or that movie being a good one.

    Mom saw Mark looking at Dad decorate the tree.

    Mom called out to Dad, ¡°Markus! Curtain Protocol!¡±

    Dad had just smiled and said, ¡°What! He¡¯s all the way on the other side of the room.¡±

    Grandpa had come in with all the popcorn, floating on little disks of water, saying, ¡°Popcorn! Popcorn! Popcorn~¡±

    And the conversation about the fishclips flying around the tree had never finished.

    - -

    Mark watched a black, adamantium fish float above him, solid and inflexible. It did not glint in the light at all. Mark tried to make it move using just his astral body, to flex and shake its tail as though it was actually swimming, but he just broke it in half. One crudely-made fish broke into several differently-sized clumps of black.

    With a sigh that was also a breath of Union, Mark cleansed himself of his drying tears.

    Mom would have been happy for his cleansing/healing/protecting Union, and Dad would have been proud of his kinesis.

    He wanted to talk to them so much.

    ¡­Which is probably why Addavein had spoken of both resurrection magic, and elves, and also how he wanted to explore Endless Daihoon eventually. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t have spoken of those if Mark hadn¡¯t asked. But¡­

    ¡°Chasing the dead, or moving on¡­¡± Mark whispered to himself, as he tried to remake a fish with just his sense of kinetic touch. It did not go well. He managed to make a crude fish¡­ which was just as well. Mark turned the fish into needles and held them against his forearms, and then he sat up. ¡°I need to sign up for the Slayers, anyway.¡±

    Mark got up.

    He had not really known it before it had happened to him, but there was only so much pain he could think about before those bad feelings just started rolling away from him. He was absolutely sure that Union was helping him cope with the hardest hitting parts of his feelings of loss, too. But was that okay? Was it okay to start feeling good about¡­ about anything at all?

    Mom and Dad were dead.

    They would want Mark to be¡­ happy¡­ right?

    His parents were dead because he tried to help out an archmage, and all of the world thought that the outcome was a good one.

    For a while, Mark just lay there, thinking about emotions and motivations and the future.

    Mark had promised himself that he wasn¡¯t going to turn villain because all the world was pointing him in that direction, to be consumed with vengeance, but¡­ Shit.

    ¡°¡­ I need to sign up for the Hero/Villain Program, too.¡±

    Mark lay there for a while longer.

    And then he got up.

    He¡¯d sign up for the Hero/Villain Program soon enough, and the Slayers, too.

    But first! A trip to the Healing classrooms, for a Scan.

    After a walk in the sunshine and a little bit more cleansing magics applied to himself to wipe away a stink of despair, Mark stepped into the Healing Hall, walking past acolytes and professors who were headed this way or that way.

    Not a single person who got within ten feet of him ignored him. There were small glances. Bigger glances. Double takes. One woman dropped her books when she saw Mark, which was quite odd. She gathered them up fast enough, though. Mark didn¡¯t even get a chance to help her pick them back up.

    Mark made it to the scanning closet just fine. The lights lit up inside, and soon, he got his readout.

    Body, Healthy Body: 056

    Shaper, Adamantium: 077

    Mind: 41

    Natural, Union: 068

    Soul: 39

    Arch: 32

    ¡°Neat!¡± Mark said, dismissing the glowing lights in the air.

    Healthy Body was more than double what it usually capped at, which was bound to introduce some weirdness¡­

    ¡­ Why had people been looking at him funny?

    Mark left the room and went to a nearby bathroom, with a big mirror.

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯s why.¡±

    His complexion had changed.

    He used to have brown hair, brown eyes, and with a pretty normal white-guy kinda coloring. His skin had remained the same¡­ probably. His irises had turned from brown to silver and black, though, while the roots of his hair were turning black. Darker than black, actually. Adamantium-black.

    So that was the dragon¡¯s fault, probably.

    Mark would complain to him the next time he saw him.

    Mark¡¯s face looked¡­ Hmm. That was his face. Yes. But also a bit¡­ Hmm.

    His body looked¡­ Hmm. The same? ish? He lifted up his shirt. Still had great abs. His clothes did feel a little tight, though, so maybe it was time to get a larger set of basic browns. Maybe Healthy Body was increasing his mass and size, like most brawny Powers did. Healthy Body didn¡¯t have a strength modifier, but Healthy Body usually didn¡¯t go above PL 25, and yet Mark¡¯s Healthy Body was already at PL 56.

    Adamantiumkinesis was barely at the minimum required level to work on adamantium, which was a PL 79 Shaper material. Adamantium was also partially Body and Arcane¡­ And, actually, Mark needed to research that more, to find out what, exactly, adamantium was, and if different sources of adamantium had different properties, or if it was all the same. It was a biometal. Surely there was nuance to it.

    Union had actually fallen behind Adamantiumkinesis, because a person needed to work their Power against a PL-equivalent or stronger opponent, and Mark wasn¡¯t doing much of that right now, but Mark had been using Union to recover his astral body faster, so he could lift the adamantium better. So that still helped there.

    Mark¡¯s Mind, Soul, and Arch levels were all raised due to the other three growing stronger.

    ¡­ He hadn¡¯t changed that much?

    ¡°Do I look that much different? ¡­ Not really. You can¡¯t even tell the eyes are silver without¡­ Well. Actually. Yeah. You can tell¡ª Oh.¡±

    Mark was probably a little famous, or something.

    Yeah.

    Mark walked out of the bathroom, and then out of the Healing building¡ª

    He caught sight of a scale and a height measuring stick just inside of a classroom, to the right. It was an empty classroom for the moment, so Mark went and checked himself out.

    Three minutes and a few double checks later, and Mark was now absolutely sure that his clothes were probably too tight. They were meant for someone who was 6¡¯3¡± and 220 pounds, but Mark was now 6¡¯5¡±, and 252. Which was a lot higher than it felt like! Even his shoes felt tighter now that he was really paying attention to that. The adamantium was only half of a pound of the stuff, too, so that wasn¡¯t much of anything at all.

    Mark walked, a little self-conscious, toward the tram. He got off at Citadel of Freyala Resources, the main depot.

    Half an hour later, Mark walked out into the sun once again, wearing looser basic brown clothes that felt a lot better. People still eyed him, but not overmuch. He looked more or less like a brawny, and not one that was trying to show off, or something weird like that.

    ¡­ He kinda wanted to go to the gym and see where his other numbers were at.

    No no no. Work first. Get it done, Mark.

    Mark rode the tram to Central Citadel, to the offices of the Slayers and the Hero/Villain Program, and tried not to wonder how much he could bench press now.

    Maybe 375? I had been pushing 310, but¡­ Maybe 350?

    Maybe a lot more!

    That¡¯d be neat!

 079

    The offices of the Slayers and the Hero/Villain Program were both located in Central Citadel, on the western side, closer to the airfield. A lot of worldly corporations, guilds, organizations, foundations, and all the other ways that people could be organized, had offices there. There were even, surprise surprise, unions.

    Mark smirked as he saw a sign for ¡®Steelworkers Union¡¯ with a sign hanging out front that spoke of magical item creation and getting good prices for work, both recurring and freelance, and helping new crafters get into good locations. They primarily worked with steelcraft, which was¡­ some sort of way to craft magical items, Mark supposed? He wasn¡¯t sure.

    The office was small, but it had a nice front window. A solid steel statue of Freyala with wings and a sword took up almost the entire window. It was quite pretty.

    ¡®Worldly Road¡¯ was the name of the road that Mark walked down, and that moniker showed everywhere. Firstly, the street was massive. Easily twenty meters wide. Big trees grew in the center, reaching high and shading the land from the bright sun. People were everywhere. The businesses on both sides of the street were broken up with cafes with seating under umbrellas on the street, and little shops that sold stuff from this part of Daihoon, or that part of Earth. The buildings on both sides of the street also had multiple levels. Mostly two levels, but as Mark walked down the street, he saw a few three story buildings here and there, and there was even a 20-ish story building further down the way.

    Most of these places were satellite offices, with main offices located here and there across the world, from Tokyo to New London, to Nigeria and elsewhere. Maps held outside of most offices that showed where the satellite office¡¯s primary office was located.

    A lot of the magical stores were a part of the Aluatha Empire. That place was located on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, where Mexico and Central America were located, but on the other side of the Veil on Daihoon. The Aluatha Empire had a bunch of smaller cities located all across North America. Not South America, though.

    On their side of the Veil, Aluatha had built a rather famous wall across the land-bridge that separated North and South America, because of some horrors located in South America. There were no Daihoon cities down past that wall, though that was changing post-Reveal. They were trying to take back South America¡¯s Daihoonian equivalent¡­ But Mark didn¡¯t know much about that whole thing, except for that¡­ probably wrong bit of trivia.

    The Aluatha Empire was the biggest empire on Daihoon, with the largest successes both in territory and population, so they had a large showing here on Worldly Road.

    Next up was the Dominion of Okuana. They were located on the other side of the Veil right here, in the Europe-ish area. They were half the size of the Aluatha Empire, but their cities were the safest, since they were made of trees and stuff that all actively ate monsters. Most people didn¡¯t want to live inside nature preserves, though. Mark was pretty sure he didn¡¯t want to live in a nature preserve, either.

    ¡­ But living in an Okuanan city would make using sustenance/deprivation a lot easier, and he did like plants, in a sort of ¡®yeah that¡¯s neat¡¯ sort of way. He could even do some basic magic with plants, too, supporting them. So Okuana had a certain appeal.

    Aluatha was all about elemental magics and ripping the world apart to make it habitable for people. Not many plants grew in Aluathan cities.

    The last Daihoon empire was the Settlement of Xerkona, but Mark didn¡¯t see any of their offices, and they were mostly about making sure places worked well, anyway. They mostly existed inside other empires. They did have a few actual cities scattered across Daihoon, though, located mostly on the other side of the Veil from the Earth nations of Kazakhstan and the Caspian Sea and those sorts of places.

    The Xerkona culture was incredibly influential across all of Daihoon, because it was their generals and their mages and archmages who helped everyone they could, with politeness and aplomb, before they went on to help other people¡ª

    Oh! There was an office for Xerkona. Pretty small. Looked like an information kiosk, too, what with the great big sign on top saying that they would happily help people with information. They were even talking to some people right now.

    Neat!

    And then there were the offices for various Earth-based places.

    The East Coast Union had a nice big office. Mark wanted to go in there and ask what was happening to Orange City, to find out what had happened to his former home, but¡­ Mark kept walking.

    Over there were offices for the Central Cities, and then California, which had taken over much of the western coast of the former United States of America and unified it into a country all its own. A lot of Old World major cities and states had been completely destroyed by the Reveal, but a lot of them came back, and in different forms. California was its own nation. Central and Eastern United States had been fractured hard, with the various powers that arose during the Reveal all deciding to go their own way. The Colorado Rockies was a whole nation now, too, which Mark almost wanted to go see, but not really.

    Mark kept looking around, trying to find the offices of the Slayers, or the Hero/Villain Program, or Crystal Tower; whichever came first.

    He saw signs for Nigeria, and South Africa, and¡ª

    Oh!

    There¡¯s the Hero/Vil¡ª

    Ah. Nope.

    Just a sign for Tokyo and Japan. Not Crystal Tower or the H/VP. They even had a sign out front that said ¡®Not Crystal Tower!¡¯ and an arrow pointing further down the street, saying Crystal Tower was that way. The sign was well-made on actual laminate, or plastic, or whatever it was, which showed that they needed to tell people this was ¡®Not Crystal Tower!¡¯ all the time.

    Mark walked on.

    There was a sign for some place called Lake Eyre, Australia, which had some really dramatic pictures from before the Reveal and after the Reveal, and the flooding of the world. Mark stopped and read. Previously, the lake was some sort of ¡®rainy season lake¡¯, and the land around the lake was a desert. But since the Reveal and due to a bunch of efforts, both personal and from the Dominion of Okuana, the lake had been turned into a year-round lake, and the desert basin was green with life. It was pretty far inland, and pretty shallow, so it was a rather ¡®a safe place to live!¡¯ according to the signs. Mark believed that. Shallow lakes couldn¡¯t hide much, while also allowing a lot of fish and other life to thrive.

    Mark looked inside the windows and saw some guy on his computer, typing away.

    Mark kept walking.

    Some people noticed him, but not really. He was just a brawny-looking guy wearing basic browns, which¡­ stood out a little bit. Most people had money and real clothes.

    But! Of those who were wearing basic browns, brawnies were the vast majority. It was that growing-body thing they had going on, and which Mark sort of shared with them. Even his hair was changing. His hair was still brown for the moment, but it would be growing in black thanks to that dragon.

    Maybe he should go get it buzzed right now.

    Mark walked down Worldly Road, and eventually he found one of his two destinations.

    The Slayers.

    It looked like a bank.

    It was a medium-sized office space, with some big double doors that were open. Mark walked inside, through a gently rushing air curtain that kept the cold air in the building. The floor was white-ish concrete and the walls were wood pillars and white plaster. An angled counter divided the front room in half. A series of poles and ropes further delineated the public space into a line that zigzagged back and forth. A few people were in line to talk to the people behind the counter, of which there were three.

    Mark got in line.

    He listened to the other people as they met with the tellers and got business taken care of, which seemed to follow a pattern that Mark had never seen before, but which was easy enough to understand. The customer would take out an emblem from around their neck, scan it by running it across a black box on the counter, and then they would start their business.

    Mark listened to one of them.

    ¡°Yes, Mister Julioz. How may I help you?¡±

    ¡°Returning from rounds. Took a quest to kill some bears and some frogs and also did a patrol in the area. Frogs are impossible. Team can¡¯t do it. They¡¯re flying and invisible. We almost lost a member. She¡¯s recovering in the hospital. Bears are gone, though. Round otherwise complete. Around 2,000 kills.¡±

    The woman typed away at a computer, nodding, saying, ¡°Understood. Looks like the frogs will be upgraded to a higher threat level and their quest will be reissued accordingly. I¡¯m glad your team is otherwise okay...¡± She paused, then said, ¡°Looks like you¡¯re up for an honesty check.¡± She brought out a black stone that she set down on the counter between them. ¡°Hand on the rock.¡±

    Julioz placed his hand on the rock, without complaint or anything resembling anger at all, which kinda surprised Mark. To be called into question like that¡­ But maybe this was a routine thing? It might have been routine.

    The teller asked, ¡°Where did your patrol take you?¡±

    ¡°Northwest #18 patrol route, COFR-made and approved variant to the normal route. We cleared out every monster along the way, except for the frogs.¡±

    ¡°How many monsters did you kill?¡±

    ¡°Around 2,000.¡±

    ¡°The outcome of your targets?¡±

    ¡°Bears are dead. Nest burned and young exterminated as much as our scout could find. Frogs had some sort of mutation that wasn¡¯t listed on the threat ranking that made them invisible and maybe even intangible. They were definitely flying, too. Not just jumping real good. We had to get out of there.¡±

    The teller nodded. ¡°You can take your hand off, Mister Julioz.¡± The teller tucked the black dome-thing under the lip of the counter on her side, as she said, ¡°That¡¯s 1,000 gold leaf for a completed round and 200 extra for the bears. The frogs have been upgraded in threat from Red to Orange, and their bounty has increased from 200 to 400. We¡¯re sorry your team encountered a mutation, but we¡¯re happy you survived. Would you like us to split your funds between your members? Or all to the team leader?¡±

    ¡°Split ¡®em up, but 100 from my account to Orneka...¡±

    There were some more small words past that, but Mark had made it through the line and was being beckoned to stand before one of the tellers.

    Mark walked forward to a man who was probably a brawny, based on his size. The guy looked to the scanner that held to the side, like some sort of card swiper, but Mark had no tag, or whatever it was people were showing off.

    Mark said, ¡°I want to sign up with the Slayers. This is my first time in one of these offices.¡±

    The guy went, ¡°Ah! We¡¯re glad to have you.¡± He went right into a spiel, ¡°Would you like to fill out paperwork yourself, or have an AI do it for you? If you¡¯re an acolyte here, COFR can fill out the paperwork for you, and we accept COFR¡¯s reports as valid. Otherwise we still need personal AIs and all information on the paperwork to be... verified through... a third party AI¡­¡± The guy kinda looked at Mark, and his speech kinda trailed off there at the end. He blinked. His eyes went wide. He said, kinda loudly, ¡°Oh!¡±

    Some people looked this way. Some people behind the teller, sitting at desks, also looked this way.

    Some guy stood up in the back of the room and started walking this way.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll do the COFR-fill-out-thing, if it¡¯ll let me.¡±

    Mark saw a golden glow overtake the teller¡¯s monitor, but only from the side. He couldn¡¯t tell what was actually happening on the screen. The teller glanced at the screen, then back to Mark, then back to the screen. The guy who had been at the back of the room came fully forward by then.

    The teller jolted at the appearance of the other guy, but then he relaxed.

    The teller bowed toward Mark, and then stepped away.

    The guy from the back, the supervisor, Mark assumed, took the teller¡¯s place. He smiled and said, ¡°Hello, Mark Careed. Welcome to the Slayers. When we heard you were interested in us we hoped for the best, and we¡¯re glad to see that the best won out, and especially after that training mission video. I¡¯m Slayer James Ietho, Yellow Rank. You can call me James, Mister Careed.¡± James gestured to the side, to a hallway that led to a few different rooms. ¡°Would you please join me for an interview? It will take 10 minutes, then we can make you an official Slayer.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Sure, uh, James. Nice to meet you.¡±

    James smiled a little and walked to the side, past an archway and into the hallway.

    Mark followed, but he also glanced behind him.

    A few people were bowing.

    ¡­ Which was intensely uncomfortable. What had Mark done to deserve that?

    James opened the way into a room, and Mark went in with the guy.

    Mark found himself sitting in a comfortable, but sturdy chair, across from James, sitting in the same sort of chair, with a table between them¡ª

    ¡°Do you know what Slayers do?¡± Jame asked, getting right into it.

    ¡°Mostly they do routes around cities and specific monster-kill quests, as denoted by the various powers-that-be inside of a city. You¡¯re paid by taxes in the cities and you pay out to Slayers based on quest level, while only allowing Slayers of certain ranks to access certain levels of quests. It¡¯s mostly working for money, and being honorable about it.¡±

    James grinned. ¡°There¡¯s some nuance, specifically with the ¡®honorable¡¯ part, but that is pretty much the whole thing, yes. The Slayers organization goes back centuries, but it¡¯s always been in existence in some form or another, to be crushed under the heel of some dragon and then rise under the auspices of a different dragon, to take care of problems that they don¡¯t want to deal with themselves. You can replace ¡®dragon¡¯ with any great organization of power out there, and that covers 90% of our history.

    ¡°We¡¯re mercenaries who have a good reputation.

    ¡°The version of the Slayers that exists these days mostly deals with the trash that cities and other organizations cannot be bothered to deal with themselves. Trash routes out into the middle of nowhere. Monsters that need killing, but which are hard to find and kill. Distant problems. Monsters that aren¡¯t worth anything to kill. That sort of thing. Usually we¡¯re just supplemental. If you go to a guardhouse or place like that, they usually outright tell us they have no work for us, but they always do. You just have to find the local office.

    ¡°And in some places, like here at Citadel Freyala, we¡¯re one of the major backbones of the city¡¯s normal defenses.

    ¡°This is for many different reasons, but it started off this way because Freyala loves us, and we love her.

    ¡°Because of that, we¡¯re allowed to have actual power here. We have teams coming in here all the time, from all over the two worlds, to find acolytes of Freyala, or anyone with healing and protection magics, to take and go out into the rest of the Two Worlds and make real differences.

    ¡°We¡¯re nomads that do bitch work that needs to be done, and who can fit in anywhere. Sometimes we take on the deeper threats, out there in the deep wilds. The ones that will only occasionally threaten a city, but which aren¡¯t currently big threats.

    ¡°And we always stand up and fight when the kaijus come roaring. That¡¯s the major difference between us and adventurers. ¡®Adventurers¡¯ is a bad word around here!¡± James said, with a grin. ¡°And so, because we¡¯re honorable, that¡¯s the only reason we have much power here at all, but we don¡¯t have much real power at all, Mark.

    ¡°If you came to us for power, that¡¯s not how this works. Did you come to us for power?¡±

    Mark felt a little weird at the mention of dragons crushing the Slayers and also raising the Slayers from the ashes, or whatever, but then James kept talking, and Mark felt better and better about this decision by the minute.

    Mark answered, ¡°I have power. I want to prove myself and fit in anywhere. Explore the Two Worlds. All of that stuff. And I need legitimacy. Can the Slayers give me the legitimacy I need to move freely?¡±

    James solidly said, ¡°We do legitimacy quite well. The Slayers routinely engage with City AIs to verify quest completions through truth magics and otherwise. We¡¯re an honorable organization, and you¡¯re expected to be honorable as a Slayer, in all aspects of your life. That means a lot of different things to different people, but the only actual laws we have are simple to list. No extrajudicial killing of fellow humans. No stealing from humans. Complete the quest, but if you can¡¯t, then report that you can¡¯t, and why. Lesser laws include ¡®doing bitch work quests if they¡¯re on the list for a while, even if they don¡¯t pay well¡¯, and stuff like that. We¡¯re protecting humanity, and mostly that is messy, time-consuming work.

    ¡°Most of our work is on Daihoon, though we do have some here on Earth, though not nearly as much.

    ¡°Does that seem like something you want to do?¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Absolutely. I¡¯ll be going to Daihoon, too.¡±

    James smiled a little. ¡°Glad to hear it. So everyone starts off as a Nascent Red Slayer, and you will, too.

    ¡°Our ranking system is the color scale, from Nascent Red, to Red, to Nascent Orange, to Orange, all the way to Purple. It¡¯s only 6 ranks, with 6 intermediary testing ranks. You have to clear Red quests easily before you¡¯re allowed to advance to Nascent Orange, and then take on Orange quests. As soon as you can prove yourself on the easy Orange quests, then you can become Actually Orange, and take any Orange quest you want.

    ¡°And so on and so forth.

    ¡°F-rank Powers can usually clear Red quests just fine. E-rank Powers can usually do Orange quests. Etcetera.

    ¡°Red quests are killing nuisance monsters. Bears, flying fish, etcetera.

    ¡°Orange quests are killing dangerous nuisance monsters.

    ¡°Yellow quests are killing threatening monsters, as in threatening to cause a monster wave, or directly threatening a settlement. A lot of Orange quests turn Yellow if they¡¯re not taken care of well enough.

    ¡°Green quests are dangerous threatening monsters. Goblins are Green quests. Most sapient, humanoid-type monsters are Green quests. Individual bands of goblins and such are lower ranked, but the goblin settlements are always Green rank quests. We usually do not go after those, because then they come after us, but we absolutely kill them wherever they are inside of our lands, or around our settlements.

    ¡°The majority of powerful Slayer work is done in Green, and it¡¯s broken down from tier 1 to tier 10.

    ¡°Blue is for kaiju quests.

    ¡°Purple is for dragon quests.

    ¡°Slayers don¡¯t usually go after Blue or Purple quests, because most places-that-exist have people that can handle kaiju or otherwise, or else they wouldn¡¯t be places-that-exist. We do have more than a few rapid-response Slayers that can help in those situations, though. Those are the Dragon Slayers. You¡¯d call them superheroes here on Earth.

    ¡°Most Slayers stop at Green, if they¡¯re able to get that far at all. Maybe Green 5, Green 6.

    ¡°I would expect you to eventually become a Purple-ranked Slayer, but you¡¯re an outlier.

    ¡°Everyone needs a team, but you don¡¯t need to have everyone on your team be a Slayer to be allowed to do Slayer quests, or get paid for quests. However, when you register for a quest, that team registers, and everyone on that team gets a team ranking, based on the teams they are on. In addition, everyone has an individual ranking that is usually a lot lower than their team ranking.

    ¡°It seems like a lot right now, but it¡¯s pretty simple in practice.¡± James asked, ¡°Any questions?¡±

    Mark thought for a second.

    ¡°I have¡­ so many questions¡ª¡± Mark paused. ¡°Language! That¡¯s first. I heard there¡¯s about a hundred of them.¡±

    James said, ¡°English is spoken by most people because it was already spoken by most people on Earth at the time of the Reveal, but there¡¯s also Mandarin, Japanese, Russian, and Spanish. If you can speak two of those, then you can usually communicate with someone over on Daihoon. As for Daihoonian languages, they speak Farnal, Getana, Dragonal, and Xerk. Xerk is perhaps the most widespread, due to the Settlement of Xerkona. They¡¯re the Speakers and the major diplomats who try to make inroads with almost everyone. If you want to learn 1 language, I suggest Xerk.

    ¡°As for actually learning the languages, I suggest you seek out a Mind Expansion Minder. The effects of their Powers fade over a week or two, but that¡¯s usually enough to start learning a language on your own. Most major cities have one at the entrances to the cities that will imbue their Power onto you for a small fee. The really big cities usually have someone at the intakes that can limit their Expansion to language acquisition only, and forgo the usual side effects of such a Power,¡± James finished with, ¡°If you¡¯re taking a boat to Daihoon, most agencies will throw in a good Expansion if you ask for it, and pay for it. It¡¯s a 500 goldleaf standard fee last I checked.¡±

    Mark grinned at that. ¡°Thank you. That sounds¡­¡± Mark had¡­ some money? He wasn¡¯t actually sure what the banking situation was¡­ like, at all. He had completely avoided even thinking about buying stuff or his parents bank accounts or any of that¡ª

    James asked, ¡°Is everything alright?¡±

    Mark blinked and came back to himself. ¡°Yes! Sorry. That¡¯s all of my questions, actually. Can I sign up now?¡±

    James smiled, stood, and gestured to the door, saying, ¡°Let¡¯s see what COFR has to say about paperwork.¡±

    Over the next ten minutes, Mark filled out some small parts of paperwork himself, which was mostly verifying that COFR had filled it all out correctly. A few thumbprints on a few different devices here and there, and then Mark put a hand to a truthstone and answered questions that all seemed pretty normal. ¡®Do you have any intention to bring harm to other humans?¡¯ ¡®Can you uphold the Code of Conduct as described here, and which you already signed as read and understood?¡¯

    ¡°Do you have plans to work with monsters to undermine humanity?¡±

    Mark almost asked James if Addavein counted, but he figured a big fuck-off dragon who was trying to be a Hero of Humanity did not count, and even so, the question was about ¡®undermining humanity¡¯, which already had an easy answer.

    ¡°No,¡± Mark answered. ¡°I will not undermine humanity with any of my actions.¡±

    James subtly raised an eyebrow as he looked at his screen, and then he moved on to the next questions.

    It was basic stuff.

    Soon enough, Mark got a solid-state badge that was a black hexagon with barely-red edges. It was some sort of computer thing, or something. Every Slayer had one. James made a big deal of telling him that it was not a recording device and that Mark did not have to keep it on himself at all points in time, and that it did not function as any sort of ID, except as a Slayer. They were easy to replace, too, because ¡®they get destroyed in fights all the time, so don¡¯t worry about replacements¡¯. Mark could get another badge as easily as heading into any big Slayer office, and getting ID¡¯d by the City AIs. They¡¯d be happy to print Mark out another ID for just a small fee of 5 goldleaf.

    ¡°But the first one is free!¡± Jame said, like it was a joke.

    Mark just smiled, because he didn¡¯t get the joke.

    Not too long later, Mark walked out of the Slayer office with a badge around his neck, hanging from a stainless steel military-like necklace. It felt good to have it there.

    It felt like a big step forward.

    Mark asked his phone, ¡°COFR? Is the Slayer badge a tracking device?¡±

    His phone glittered gold and words appeared, ¡®The Slayer badge is little more than an artificial mana crystal that has a name, number, and ranking attached to it. The main use of the badge is to more easily link a person to the Slayer database, which contains actual information. The badge can be tracked by special means, but the same is true of practically everything. The badge has no specific tracker on it, in it, or near it, unless the user puts one there, which some people do. Your badge has none of that.¡¯

    Mark grinned as he read that while he walked¡ª

    Mark paused.

    He asked, ¡°COFR? Should I get a personal AI?¡±

    ¡®Based on projections and standard situations that one might find out in the world, you need a Tech Minder of some sort to prevent your tech from being corrupted to foul ends. I can build you a personal AI from myself and accomplish much of this, which is a rather normal arrangement for most graduates of Citadel Freyala, but a strong enough Tech Minder could invalidate your AI anyway. As such, any AI I grant you will not be a living AI, but instead a link to me, which will allow me to contact you regarding various important information. Your personal AI would remain your own.¡¯

    Mark felt confident enough, after having dealt with COFR for a couple of months now, to say, ¡°I accept the offer. Thank you.¡±

    The phone flickered gold and then faded to silver.

    ¡®Please name your Personal, non-living AI.¡¯

    Mark didn¡¯t know what to name it, at first, but that silver color sparked a memory. When he had been doing the Color Drop treatment, Orange City had installed a techno-organic silver box in the corner of the living room. It had burrowed roots into the house and been Mark¡¯s ¡®not really personal AI¡¯ for a brief time. And then the house had been destroyed.

    Mark couldn¡¯t ever get that house back, but he could at least carry some part of it around with him, even if it had been a very new part.

    Mark said, ¡°Quark. That¡¯s your name. Quark.¡±

    The phone flickered gold and then faded to simple, solid silver.

    ¡®Hello, Mark Careed. I am your Personal AI, Quark. I am an offshoot of Citadel of Freyala Resources, and am here to keep your information in good working order, and to allow for easier verification at various checkpoints. Please bear with me as I update to functionality and gather information about your person. Estimated update time: 2.7 minutes.¡¯

    The phone faded to a simple black rectangle.

    Mark grinned and put the phone into his pocket.

    He headed down the road, toward the Hero/Villain Program headquarters, which was also the location for the Crystal Tower embassy.

    It was the 20-story building.

 080

    Mark walked into an atrium of glass and light and business, with people in suits talking with people in normal-ish clothes, and other people walking with purpose, with their heels clicking on the white marble flooring. Overhead, steel sculptures of superheroes and supervillains floated in the air¡­ or rather they were held up by well-hidden cables and support structures. There was Glorious Man, rushing forward with a punch against Nighterror, who reeled back while Wandering Sage, Isoko¡¯s grandmother, twisted the battlefield with blades of wind. There were dozens of major figures, all supported from the ceiling, all fighting their own battles.

    Mark didn¡¯t recognize many of the fights, but he was pretty sure that Wandering Sage¡¯s fight against Glorious Man up there was the one that happened when Wandering Sage grabbed that True Healer and jumped the line to get Isoko¡¯s mother treated for cancer. It was a big story, 13 years ago¡­

    Oh.

    No.

    It was not a tableau of history.

    The ¡®fight¡¯ Mark was seeing was more of a ¡®this is generally how it is¡¯ and less of a specific fight. Nighterror was Glorious Man¡¯s usual big enemy. Wandering Sage was there in the background¡­ Yeah. This wasn¡¯t a historical thing at all.

    All the other fights seemed the same way, actually. Was it a marketing thing? Maybe¡ª

    ¡°Greetings,¡± said a man in black, standing a bit away from Mark. He looked¡­ kinda evil. Black suit, purple undershirt, slicked back hair. It was a look with a purpose, for sure. ¡°I¡¯m Gaston Lussier, AKA Shadowlock. I¡¯m a liaison for the Worldwide Villain Program out of Crystal Tower, here at Citadel Freyala for various reasons.¡±

    Ah.

    They had come out to meet him, then.

    Mark felt a weight settle upon him. A weight of duty? Perhaps.

    Mark said, ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Mark Careed. I¡¯m here to sign up for the Villain program¡­ for various reasons.¡±

    Gaston grinned a little bit. And then he said, ¡°I know who you are, Mister Careed.¡±

    He gestured behind himself and a tunnel of shadows ripped through the air, up through the diorama of superhero sculptures, leading all the way up to the fourth floor, or maybe the fifth. The center of the tunnel opened up. On the other side, maybe 5 feet away from Mark, were the doors to an office labeled ¡®Crystal Tower Villainy Liaison¡¯ and also ¡®Shadowlock¡¯.

    Gaston walked through first.

    Mark watched as upstairs, on the other side of the portal, Gaston stood, waiting for him.

    Well then!

    He was using his Powers in public and in a large way, huh? That was clearly ¡®villainous¡¯.

    ¡­ Yeah. ¡®Gaston Lussier¡¯ was a ¡®villain¡¯; yes that made sense. Was his first name even his real name? Or his business name? Was Mark going to need to choose a better personal name? Like movie stars did sometimes? Maybe he would?

    Mark stood tall and walked through the portal.

    And then he was on the fourth floor, looking at all the superhero sculptures from above.

    Mark watched the shadow tunnel collapse, saying, ¡°That¡¯s neat.¡±

    Gaston chuckled a little, and then he began to cackle as he slammed open the doors to his office and strode through like some sort of demigod. Or something. Or probably just like a villain, actually.

    Mark walked inside, asking, ¡°Do I need to learn to cackle like that, too?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely yes!¡± Gaston said, without hesitation.

    The doors shut with flickers of shadow, and Mark was alone in a room with a villain.

    Better than being alone in the sky with a dragon, really.

    The office looked great and professional. Big desk. Some computer screens. Big screen to the side, in front of some couches. And also a bunch of merchandise, strangely enough. Cups and mugs and bobble-heads and tshirts sat each in their own little cubbyhole, each perfectly illuminated by light sources, each of the heroes or villains looking colorful or dour or sharp or sexy, depending on the hero or villain in question. Mark knew almost none of the people on that merchandise, for superhero culture was vast and Mark was more focused on monster killing, but he did recognize some of those people. He recognized the theme of Gaston¡¯s work¡­ Maybe.

    The Hero/Villain Program was different things to different people. Combat preparedness was major goal #1, but money, narrative, and culture, were all #2 through #whatever. A lot of heroes were in it to make a living as a minor movie star for action-oriented shows.

    Big bay windows showed off the horizon of Citadel Freyala, and all of the big churches in the distance. Grand Central Citadel rose tall and strong, all Gothic and old/new at the same time, while the wall of the city loomed in the distance, like a solid grey-ish horizon.

    Gaston turned around, grinned, and then his entire demeanor changed. His shoulders weren¡¯t quite so straight. His back wasn¡¯t so rigid. His eyes even seemed softer, as all of him seemed a whole lot more approachable. His voice even seemed nicer, as he said, ¡°I was asked to spend some more time here in Citadel Freyala as of a few weeks ago, in case you came this way. I usually move all over the place, but Citadel is one of my normal haunts. Wandering Sage asked me to do this, and also Ivona Gusca, Mind Dancer. I believe you met both of them at a party at the Cybersong residence.¡±

    Mark felt some funny kinda way at being told of small intrigues in the H/VP. He nodded. ¡°I met both of them, yes. Ivona was the pink lady. She, uh, tried to get me to join the Hero Program, but in a way that was¡­ probably intended to make me not want to join. She spoke a lot about money and merchandising and I¡¯m not sure what else.¡±

    Gaston nodded. ¡°All correct!¡± He went over to a little refreshment station, next to some nice couches and a coffee table, asking, ¡°Would you like to sit? And a cup of coffee? I brewed it a few hours ago. It¡¯s really quite good stuff. I¡¯m having a cup.¡±

    ¡°... I never really liked coffee, but I will certainly try it again.¡±

    Gaston grinned. ¡°Let me make you one with cream and sugar.¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡±

    Mark soon found himself sitting and sipping some really quite good coffee. It was a wonderful shade of brown with a little bit of foam, and it tasted like caramel-milk-something. He smiled as he had a second and third sip. He had never had coffee this good, which was weird. He wondered what Gaston had done differently with his coffee. He had just poured it out of a coffee pot alongside his own cup, and then poured in some foam and sugar.

    Mark said, ¡°I think if this had been my introduction to coffee, I might have started drinking it more.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Gaston grinned as he sipped his own cup, done in the same style. ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s not often I get to introduce someone to coffee. I grew out of the flavorful stuff decades ago and I mostly take it black these days, but it¡¯s always nice to go back to my roots.¡± He had another sip, and then set his cup down. ¡°So you¡¯re being more or less forced to be a villain.¡±

    Mark gave a tiny, wry grin. ¡°I would honestly not participate in any of this stuff if I could leave it behind, but yes. This is happening.¡±

    Gaston nodded, looking secure. ¡°That¡¯s just about the best attitude that a future villain can have about this job, because that¡¯s the attitude that allowed this whole hero/villain thing to develop at all. The original villains, Timegrabber and Sunwallower, were all real heroes who saw the need to train the younger generations outside of the death traps that were normal hunter routes in the wilds. They also had a great love for the old comics.

    ¡°So Timegrabber and Sunwallower became ¡®villains¡¯. This whole idea started with the villains, because you have to have people willing to take the fall to raise other people up. Everything else developed from there.

    ¡°We do this job because we must, though we usually end up having a lot of fun, too. And yes, we rob banks and we usually end up getting beaten by young heroes all the time, but this is important work. There¡¯s not a single villain out there that hasn¡¯t helped lift young heroes up, and prepared them for proper take downs of actual villains, or, more usually, monsters.¡±

    Mark smiled a little, and this time it was kinda real. ¡°I heard something like that from a few different people.¡± He added, ¡°I don¡¯t want to actually do any villain work for a while. Hopefully not ever, but I know that¡¯s impossible with what''s-his-face demanding¡­ Whatever he wants to happen. I¡¯m going to Daihoon in like, a month. Maybe a week. I don¡¯t know when, but I do know that¡¯s where I want to go, first. And then I¡¯ll do the villain-thing later. Years later.¡±

    Gaston nodded. ¡°We don¡¯t want the dragon involved in anything yet, either, so that¡¯s a good play. I understand that you, Isoko Kanno, and Eliot Cybersong, are all embarking on a city creation mission, headed in the same general direction, yes?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what Empire? What general part of Daihoon?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything yet, but I have read up on the general order of events. Eliot is going to be the one making the city, I assume, alongside a plethora of other people. I heard he¡¯s in the middle of a great big bidding war right now. I¡¯ll become one of the roamers there, alongside whoever else comes along, and Isoko will be there with me, too. I think they¡¯re making it a really big event, drawing in a thousand people and tens of organizations, or something like that. Larger than a normal settlement thing.¡±

    Gaston nodded a little. ¡°That¡¯s about all I heard, too. If you had known a direction, then I could have tried to set up a H/VP in that direction...¡± He came to a decision, saying, ¡°We¡¯re not putting you into a villain role, anywhere, but we can go through paperwork and nominally set you up as a villain. Normally, there would be psych evals, history examinations, vouchings, and a host of other concerns, but the big, overriding concern is, ahem, your brother. So you¡¯re getting fast-tracked through all the important stuff and then stalled out on area selection and integration into society. We¡¯ll still go over the major details of what it means to be a villain for the next hour, but how does that sound as a general plan?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Sounds great!¡±

    Gaston nodded. ¡°So to start with, you can either be a villain that makes a lot of money through merchandising and being in a narrative that our writers create ¡ª the ¡®spotlight¡¯ track¡ª or you can be a background villain that works on the weekends and isn¡¯t in the spotlight at all, though you are required to show up as a henchman for a bigger villain now and then. That¡¯s the ¡®lowlight track¡¯. All villains routinely train heroes anyway; that¡¯s just a given. This is the part where I would give you a choice of spotlight, or lowlight, but your brother has already chosen to be a superhero, so you¡¯re getting the spotlight track.

    ¡°That¡¯s still a few years away, though, and...¡±

    Mark felt surreal as Gaston spoke of his future as a villain, and what it would entail, which was mainly just fighting for real, but also for a camera. He spoke of a baseline salary as long as Mark fulfilled his training missions with nascent heroes 3 times a month, to bonuses based on how much he could steal from pre-planned vault-heists.

    None of it seemed real. This was not the life he wanted. This was not the life he imagined. Mark was¡ª

    ¡°Mark?¡± Gaston asked.

    Mark blinked. ¡°Uh. Sorry?¡±

    Gaston nodded a little, then said, ¡°I can tell this isn¡¯t what you wanted, so let me try a different tack. If you want to fight against specific heroes, to learn how to fight against those people, then you can do that. You can target specific Powers, like Mesmer, Mage, Pure Body, which are all rare and incredibly strong. You can learn to fight truly dangerous foes as a villain, instead of the heroes, who only learn how to fight villains so that they can stay in shape, or prepare for bigger fights, or ¡ªand this is most of them¡ª so they can look good for a camera.

    ¡°We can set up fights for you every single day if you want.

    ¡°And that¡¯s how you can learn to become an Inquisitor, which is what I think Freyala is pointing you toward. So you can fight demons and the Fallen.¡± Gaston lightly stared. ¡°So you can fight dragons.¡±

    Mark felt present, in that moment. He said, ¡°That sounds more my speed.¡±

    Gaston nodded. ¡°Then let¡¯s do some paperwork, Blackvein, and stall you out on area selection.¡±

    Mark felt uncomfortable again.

    That name. The name that the goblins had called him, somehow.

    ¡°Is that really gonna be my name?¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Gaston said, grinning.

    They did some paperwork.

    Soon, Gaston spoke of opening a bank account, saying, ¡°Crystal Tower has banks in every city on Earth, and also in Daihoon, and we don¡¯t cave to external pressure. We just up and leave places if they get dangerous to humanity in a detrimental-society sort of way, but that¡¯s pretty much true of everyone.

    Mark took a moment to think.

    He decided that he probably needed to get his banking squared away. But first¡ª

    ¡°I need to, uh, check my finances. I have no idea¡­ about any of that. I kinda put it out of mind.¡± Mark added, ¡°I need to make a new account, yes, but¡­ I need to check on stuff.¡±

    Gaston asked, ¡°I can leave the room, or escort you to a private room?¡±

    ¡°The latter, please.¡±

    Inside a plain office space, Mark poked at his phone and, with Quark¡¯s (and COFR¡¯s) assistance, he found out that his parent¡¯s assets were frozen by Orange City, and that Mark would need to go back home to unfreeze any of that. Mark rapidly decided that he was not doing that. Not for a while. His parent¡¯s banking was similarly frozen, and his own small bank account was also frozen, though COFR was willing to help Mark reclaim that one. Ten minutes and a few AI phone calls later, and Mark had 113 goldleaf waiting for him in escrow at COFR.

    113 goldleaf! That was it!

    Getting that done had been the most emotionally draining thing he had done in the last¡­ few days?

    Or not. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    He took another 10 minutes then went back into Gaston¡¯s office and made himself an account with the Hero/Villain Program, with ¡®Crystal Banking¡¯.

    A while later, Mark shook hands with Gaston, saying, ¡°It was nice to meet you, Gaston Lussier.¡±

    Gaston smiled. ¡°It was nice to meet you as well, Mark Careed. Blackvein.¡± He plucked a card off of his table and handed it to Mark, saying, ¡°My contact information.¡±

    Mark took the card¡ª

    Gaston gestured to the door, and a tunnel of shadows opened up. Behind the tunnel lay the entrance of the building, four stories down. ¡°The fast way, if you wish.¡±

    Mark desperately did wish to get out of there fast, but he tried not to be obvious about it. He probably failed, though.

    So Mark just smiled, said, ¡°Thank you. Bye.¡±

    And then Mark rushed through the tunnel, to once again stand under the steel sculptures of superheroes¡ª

    Gaston chuckled. His chuckle rose to a laugh, which fractured into a cackle that echoed out of every shadow in the place.

    And Gaston announced, ¡°A villain for the ages!¡±

    And then the shadows all dimmed.

    Some people in the atrium politely clapped toward Mark. A few people were very, very confused.

    Mark was confused, too, but he had places to be.

    He walked outside, into the sun, onto Worldly Road.

    Mark found himself grinning, feeling pretty good about the weird, wide future.

 081

    Mark looked in shop windows as he walked down the road. The air smelled of cheese and bread, for a pizzeria was making a brisk business right over there, and Mark kinda wanted a slice, but he didn¡¯t have that much money. But he did have 113 goldleaf, which was honestly not as much as he should have, right? What was going on there¡ª

    His phone rang.

    Mark hadn¡¯t gotten a phone call in¡­ in a while? He looked at the number, which was restricted, and then he looked around. The phone continued to ring. Mark stepped to the side and answered the phone, saying, ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°Mark! Brother!¡± said Addavein, the dragon. ¡°You registered!¡±

    Mark almost hung up.

    In fact, he had pulled the phone away from his ear and had a finger almost ready to end the call¡­ But he breathed in resilience and pushed away weakness, his heart beating black veins down his skin, and outside of his body.

    He answered, ¡°I did register¡­ What¡­¡± He wasn¡¯t sure what to say. He went with, ¡°What are you¡­ uh¡­ up to?¡±

    Is that really what he cared to ask?

    The fuck?

    Addavein happily answered, ¡°I went back to Daihoon and killed a bunch of kaiju that had been hanging out for a while, unkilled. Talked to some dragons on some more equal footing than Dad had as an archmage. Killed some old threats. Came back. Killed some more old threats. I think the next few hundred years of humanity are looking up up up!¡± Addavein said, ¡°There are always going to be problems, of course, and Endless Daihoon is impossible to clear, so more monsters will always come down the mountains. But the big enemies that are here are mostly dead. This is, of course, still a problem. Just of a different nature. And so now we¡¯re at the ecological-conservation and ecosystem-organizing part of the process, instead of at the survival-of-humanity and threat-management steps. It¡¯s a big step!¡±

    Mark went with the flow of conversation, and asked, ¡°So the Dominion of Okuana is getting involved, then? The ecosystem management stuff?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get them involved! A great deal of trying. They are unmoving, which is to be expected. It¡¯s still better to kill the big enemies, though. I assume most places will experience some unknown hardships. Weird monster waves and the like. But they¡¯ll pull through, and everything will settle down. It¡¯ll be a great expansion!¡±

    Expansions, huh?

    Mark had a profound moment.

    Mark decided to share something of his own¡­ that Addavein probably already knew.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m joining an expedition out there¡­ I think. A settlement thing.¡±

    ¡°I know! I heard! Those are always great learning experiences. I¡¯ve done a few in my time. But do you know what¡¯s an even better learning experience?¡±

    Mark felt suddenly, very alone.

    He was still on Worldly Road, in Citadel Freyala. The sun shone brightly. People were walking this way and that, though a lot of them were avoiding him, for Mark had a rather visible Power display going on.

    But now, as Mark tried to sense the world, to get a feel for whatever Addavein was saying-without-saying, or possibly threatening, Mark¡¯s black veins extended out even further¡ª

    There.

    Above.

    Far. Far above. Too far to see.

    ¡­ But also not above Mark at all.

    There was something above him, but it wasn¡¯t actually there. It was not like the time when Addavein had been invisible, and then suddenly visible. This was¡­ different. Weirder.

    Mark tentatively asked, ¡°What¡¯s a better learning experience?¡±

    ¡°Finding your way to civilization yourself! Forging your own path through the woods. Killing anything and everything that approaches you. As a proper power does. As expected of a tri-Talent, and especially one like you, who I have chosen to call my brother.¡±

    There was a beat.

    And then something like illusionary lightning flashed down from the heavens, out of the clear blue sky, and slammed into Mark. It wasn¡¯t lightning at all. It was a thread pulled from the very fabric of the world, unraveling light itself, revealing a land of forests and danger. Something like a strong wind poured over Mark as the not-lightning skittered across the ground, right at him, like a doorway swallowing him.

    It had moved as fast as a blink.

    And now Mark stood on grasses in the middle of nowhere, and the hole in the world vanished behind him.

    He dropped the phone into his pocket as he stared upward, at a sky that held a dragon in it. He was big, silver, and with black spikes on his back and in the air around him, like normal. The sky itself was all fucked up, but Mark didn¡¯t pay attention to that right now.

    Mark yelled at the bastard, ¡°THE FUCK, ADDAVEIN?!¡±

    Addavein laughed loudly, vibrating the world, his mirth like a bomb going off far, far overhead. That shockwave slammed into the forest all around Mark and broke branches, and Mark¡¯s eardrums popped from the pressure. It stung, and that was all.

    Mark healed himself¡ª

    In a moment of inspiration, he Union¡¯d with Addavein, and his body turned solid as adamantium, probably. He felt strong. He felt invincible¡ª

    And then Addavein chortled and broke the connection, leaning down to look at him from a few hundred meters away, like a giant cat lounging in the sky. He whispered, and the world crackled with shockwaves. ¡°You¡¯re strong enough to be on your own, so go ahead and be on your own for a while. It¡¯s fun! Your phone still works somewhat. I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t be out here in the wilds of Daihoon for more than a few weeks.¡±

    ¡°I repeat: THE FUCK?!¡±

    Addavein grinned. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you acclimated to your kinesis as fast as you did, because I really wanted to see you out and about on your own, instead of ingratiated to a bunch of nobles and such. I didn¡¯t know if I would get an opportunity to do this before I went and slept, so I had to do it now.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Sleep?¡± Mark asked, again, ¡°The fuck?¡±

    Addavein chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s really quite a funny thing! You see: Dragons hibernate when they use too much power. I always thought of it as something that only happened to older dragons, but I¡¯ve been tearing it up out there, Mark.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t wait any longer.

    ¡°I need to sleep. Maybe for a few months. I¡¯m not sure. Maybe half a year or more.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine out here! You got your adamantiumkinesis up to an acceptable level, but it could always be better, and what better way to get stronger than being thrown into the fire! You¡¯re in the fire now, but I wouldn¡¯t drop you off without some real help.¡± He added, ¡°And so: here.¡±

    A tiny book slapped into Mark¡¯s chest.

    It was black, and it had a drop of adamantium on its binding. Mark instinctively grabbed for the adamantium but he felt some sort of resistance, but only for a moment. And then the adamantium was his. The little book was a thin thing that Mark didn¡¯t get a chance to read¡ª

    Addavein said, ¡°A bit more help with your adamantiumkinesis, or really, the whole Kinetic branch of magic. Broadly, there¡¯s the actual kinesis part of it, but there¡¯s also sensing, so you can learn how to sense deposits of the stuff. Good luck finding any, though! There are a lot of miners that look for metals of all kinds, and you¡¯re not a miner; you¡¯re ¡®just¡¯ an adamantiumkinetic! HA!¡±

    Addavein giggled some, vibrating the world.

    ¡­ He seemed not-okay.

    Mark was still furious.

    Addavein sighed, and then announced, ¡°And now! I need to sleep! Before I turn hysterical and sleep-deprived. You don¡¯t want to see a dragon like that. That¡¯s when dragons start to get weird¡­¡± He paused. ¡°Oh. I think I might already be sleep deprived.¡± He tried, ¡°I preemptively apologize for this?¡±

    ¡° ¡®PREEMPTIVELY¡¯? ¡®Preemptively¡¯ requires you to not have already started shit, Addavein! Put me back.¡±

    Addavein giggled. ¡°That¡¯s not how this magic works! Malaqua does a much stronger version of this than I can manage, but he has the whole demon System helping him. You see, I summoned you¡ª Oh no. I was about to go on a tangent!¡± Addavein chuckled again. ¡°I need to go away and sleep for a few¡­ whiles. Yes!¡± He stared at Mark, like a demon-dragon-god, filling the world with his power, his presence, as he said, ¡°I planned this all out, yes! It certainly didn¡¯t happen on whims. I¡¯m not like those other dragons¡­ Later!¡±

    And then Addavein flew away, and all the world went flying at his exit.

    Mark tumbled through the air. Rocks flew. Trees uprooted.

    Being casually tossed around, Mark thought, as he was being casually tossed around, was not as bad as he expected it to be. Rocks slammed into him, tree branches struck his face. All of that happened. But Mark had a Body rating in the 50s. He managed to grab onto his phone and the black book that Addavein had thrown at him, and somehow he landed, or more like rolled.

    Mark found himself blinking out dirt, in ruined clothes, dust settling down everywhere.

    A boulder crashed. Trees finished breaking.

    Mark uncurled on the broken ground. His phone was cracked but it was still illuminated. His AI Quark was still there. His Slayer badge was gone, though, along with most of his clothes.

    Mark stared at the dusty sky. Dust kept raining down, and, since the air was rather horribly full of debris, Mark was careful about breathing in purity and breathing out impurity, all so that he could cleanse the air directly around himself. As he continued to do that, dirt and dust continued to rain all around, but the sky started to clear. Mark didn¡¯t feel nearly that dirty anymore, even as dirt continued to rain all around him.

    Mark had a complicated set of emotions.

    Mark stood up, muttering, ¡°I can still hate someone who does good things for other people, yeah? It wouldn¡¯t be ridiculous to hate him for doing this, would it? No. I can and should hate him over this¡­¡± Mark looked to the sky, and he felt a sense of wonder. He whispered, ¡°And yet¡­¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    He was on Daihoon, now.

    The sky was blue, the clouds were white, but the entire atmosphere was also ten million ribbons of light, like auroras, but more solid. Here and there colors appeared, as though soft fabrics were twisting in the sky, allowing their surfaces to be seen when those surfaces were at shallow angles. It was like watching clouds, of a different sort. There was movement. It was slow movement. The fabrics shifted and moved. The fabrics layered, and unlayered, catching on the light of the sun and dimming the sun, but only just enough so that Mark could look at the sun, directly, without hurting himself. It was strange, the light of the sun, here on Daihoon.

    Everything was so beautiful.

    Gradually, Mark¡¯s sight turned back earthward, or rather, to Daihoon.

    For this was Daihoon, but this specific part of Daihoon was plains and open land, with mountains or something like that over in that direction, and something like¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t sure, more plains? in that other direction?

    Everything was thoroughly ruined by Addashield¡¯s passing, though¡ª

    The dragon was on the horizon again, and he was coming this way.

    Mark hadn¡¯t noticed him with his eyes, but he had noticed him with a gentle pull of Union, telling him that he was being targeted. At least it didn¡¯t feel like a dangerous target¡­ Not intentionally, anyway.

    Mark steeled himself, his heart beating with the world, drawing in resilience and expunging weakness. Mark almost expected that Union on Daihoon would have different results than on Earth, but nope. Union of Blood and Breath both beat with a normalcy that Mark had come to expect from his Power.

    And Addavein returned.

    Wind carved across the world, rushing and twisting, and then a minor hurricane blew at Mark, but Mark was ready for it, this time. He held up his adamantium slivers and widened them out to small wind blockers. He secured himself to the ground with his other bits of adamantium. Dust and stone slapped against those tiny shields, like rain off of a tin roof. Most of his body was still fully exposed to the dragon¡¯s wind. Gravel struck, and bounced, and Mark healed up the tiny wounds that Addavein caused.

    And then Mark stared at Addavein, at his ¡®brother¡¯, up there in the sky.

    Addavein spoke, and he was unable to modulate his voice. His voice boomed like a roar and a rage, and yet it was just a voice. Mark¡¯s eardrums popped again, but he healed them up and reinforced himself against vibrational damage. Union seemed able to do that well enough.

    Addavein¡¯s voice turned softer, intelligible.

    ¡°¡ªAh. You didn¡¯t hear the first things I said. Uh,¡± Addavein said, ¡°To repeat: I shouldn¡¯t have summoned you like that. I just now realized that this is the exact same shit that made us all stand together and oust the dragons the first chance we really got, late in the Reveal and during the Rise of the New Pantheon. In my defense, I did pick out a good spot here!

    ¡°I can send you back to Earth, but I can¡¯t pick the spot.

    ¡°If you want me to send you back, you¡¯d end up close to here. It¡¯s in North America! Pretty central to the continent. Here on Daihoon you¡¯d find the Not-Mississippi River to the East if you went that way. We call it The Shine, here. Do you want to stay? Or go back?

    ¡°To help you make this choice: Daihoon civilization is about 800 kilometers north for some settlements around the Not-Chicago area, 2000 kilometers southwest for the beginnings of the Aluatha Empire, or just follow the Not-Mississippi down south and you¡¯ll run into something smaller eventually.¡±

    Addavein waited.

    Mark asked, ¡°Are there big monsters around here?¡±

    Addavein turned in the sky, looking this way and that¡ª He flinched a little, then he hummed, and then said to Mark. ¡°Maybe some¡­ too-big ones, yes. But you could run from them. Probably even shut them down.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t happy about it, and his phone died in his hands which made him even less happy about it, but he was hopeful, and he really, really wanted to kill something. Anything. Something needed to die!

    So it was fine to be here!

    PERFECTLY FINE!

    Mark declared, ¡°I can survive this! I can thrive here!¡± He said, ¡°But you need to not pull shit like this. See you in some months or a year. Have a good nap.¡±

    Addavein smiled some¡ª He paused. ¡°Oh no no no. You¡¯re way too vulnerable here. I have to send you back.¡±

    Lightning descended again, and Mark popped out of a hole in the world.

    Daihoon vanished.

    Mark landed on his ass on stone and water, splashing down into some sort of tributary or small river somewhere, in the middle of some forested-like place, in the middle of nowhere. His phone sparked in the water and then fully died. His shirt was completely gone and his pants broke all the way, his belt snapping and his underwear snapping, too. Where were his shoes? No idea. They probably got knocked off in the first gust of wind.

    There was no time to be mad, to process what had happened. Not yet. Not right this second.

    Mark stood up and pulled off the tatters of his shirt, and there went his pants, falling off without him needing to even pull them off. They got tangled on his left thigh, though, so he did have to rip at that, and off they came. Tatters of clothes in the water. Fun.

    This was why heroes wore webweave, taken from spiders at big farms and all of it at least PL15, for about a year. A brawny with tactile telekinesis could even use normal clothes. But Mark didn¡¯t have TT, and those tatters had been basic browns.

    And now that Mark was up and uninhibited by tangled clothes, and there were no visible monsters anywhere, Mark allowed himself to think.

    Mark made one decision, first.

    Mark roared at the sky, ¡°FUCK YOU, DRAGON!¡±

    That felt good.

    Mark decided he was going to be mad at that fucking dragon for a long time. Not anxious, when he inevitably showed up again. Not scared at his size, or his¡­ everything. Just plain mad. Mark could be personable for the fate of the world, but he¡¯d be mad as fuck at that fucking fuckhead, and for reasons completely unrelated to the tangled mess that was demon-afflicted Addashield, who had killed his parents.

    Mark took a breath.

    He looked at the empty land all around, at the normal, Earth-blue sky with its normal clouds and no fabric-like auroras at all, at the clear waters of the small river, and at his slowly-flowing-away tatters of clothes¡ª

    Addashield¡¯s little black book was in the water.

    Mark sighed, then muttered, ¡°This is certainly one way to avoid thinking about my life and where it¡¯s going.¡±

    Mark slipped into the waters to grab some fabric to try to save his dignity as much as he could, and he picked up the wet book, too. The water was cold, but the air was¡­ cold. Mark had a Body in the 50s, though, so he was okay.

    Surprisingly, the book was okay, too. No water damage at all. Mark didn¡¯t really look at it yet, though, because he was nude in the wilderness, and that seemed like asking for some monster to chomp at parts of him he didn¡¯t want chomped.

    He was going to fix some of his clothes¡­ if he could.

    The belt looked¡­ difficult to fix. It was severed at the right hip where something had clipped Mark¡¯s hip and broken his clothes. He had barely felt whatever it was, but he was pretty sure that it probably should have cracked his pelvis, or maybe broken his skin some, because the cut line was pretty clean.

    Mark had some extra metal, though, and not his adamantium. He needed that to defend himself. The belt had two rings that held the belt together, so Mark grabbed the metal clasp and pulled at it¡­ Nope. Not strong enough for that. Mark used his adamantium to break the clasp, though, and that was much easier, though it was still kinda tough.

    Healthy Body didn¡¯t give Mark any sort of extra strength, but he would have assumed that he could¡­ he didn¡¯t know¡­ bend metal with his fingers? But no. Adamantium and his Kinesis, though, were good enough to bend the small metal rings that made up his belt. From there, with some applied pressure and slipping on the rings a few times, Mark managed to remake the ¡®belt¡¯. It looked stapled together, but it was fine!

    This was fine.

    Several minutes of small crafting later and Mark was missing Eliot a lot, but he had, like, a loincloth, or something.

    It functioned.

    Parts that dangled were now firmly secured.

    That¡¯s all that Mark needed it for. He wasn¡¯t going to be one of those guys who got lost in the woods and made it back to society all grubby and nude and with parts missing¡­ Though that was the general theme of getting lost in the woods outside of cities¡­

    Because it was incredibly fucking dangerous to be out here, unprotected¡­

    Alone.

    Mark hummed and worried about his safety.

    He was on a big rock sitting to the side of a river, half in the shade half in the sun. Mark had picked this spot because it offered vantage points to everywhere, and his Union was running strong, allowing him to sense if anything was aiming his way. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how his Union sense actually worked, but he was working his Union well, to ¡®scout¡¯, and nothing was ¡®aiming his way¡¯. Sometimes, Mark even got feelings associated with that ¡®aiming his way¡¯, which was really helpful. Feelings like ¡®kill kill kill that thing!¡¯ or ¡®I need to eat that thing¡¯, seemed like normal monster feelings to have, with regard to humans.

    Maybe there was a better way to use Union to scout, but Mark hadn¡¯t been taught that secret yet. Knowing that some monsters were ¡®pointed at him¡¯ or ¡®pulling on the fabric of reality in Mark¡¯s direction¡¯ was good enough, for now.

    And speaking of ¡®good enough¡¯!

    Mark tapped his feet on the warm stone underfoot, and he could feel the stone, the heat, the sharpness of that part right there, but his feet were perfectly fine. He leaned down and made a fist and lightly punched the stone, and his hand felt fine, too. He punched the stone harder. Still felt good? Still felt good. Mark reared back and slammed the stone with maybe half-strength.

    He thwacked the stone good, and it stung, but Mark was inundating himself with resilience as he expelled weakness, so it didn¡¯t hurt that much at all. As he stood up, Mark felt that his feet were perfectly good for ¡®shoes¡¯ right now, which was kinda weird, but also really cool.

    He looked at himself, at the black lines tracing down his entire body and into the air. It looked like a really bad magical infection, but it wasn¡¯t too out-of-line with what a person, alone in the woods, might look like when they were actively defending himself. His adamantium needles kinda blended into the black vein-like structures, too¡­

    Mark breathed in sustenance, then breathed out deprivation, connecting to all the trees and plant life all around. He had no idea how long he would be out here, or where ¡®here¡¯ even was, but he certainly wasn¡¯t going to get caught flatfooted or starving out here in the woods. In the wilds.

    Mark grinned a little.

    ¡°This was not how I wanted to explore the world, but¡­¡± He chuckled. ¡°This works?¡±

    Sure. This works.

    How to get around, though?

    ¡­ Well¡­

    Mark grinned as he turned his adamantium needles into flat sheets of metal, each about 5 inches square.

    He wasn¡¯t going to walk.

    He was going to fly!

    ¡­ Or probably just hover, really. Hover-run? He wanted to stretch out the adamantium into, like, wings or something. But there was not enough here for that at all. So! Pressing-against-the-ground running!

    Mark pressed the metal against the stone¡ª

    He caught himself as he flopped to the side, because he forgot to do a three-point push against the ground. Also, one of the sheets slipped. Maybe a sheet wasn¡¯t so good for movement¡­

    Hmm.

    Mark looked down at the ground, at the little black book that Addavein had given him.

    With a sigh and a reluctance, Mark picked it up and looked through it. It was wet, but not really. It was 10 pages long, with rather average-sized print, not script, and it was densely packed with ¡®Understanding Shaper Magic¡¯, according to the front text. There were even little pictures. It was not a book that Addvein had made himself. It was a mass-produced copy, and it came with all-too familiar warnings in the front against allowing people under Curtain Protocol to read the book. Some of those warnings even spoke of how the book was ¡®ancestral quality¡¯ and ¡®made of mage paper¡¯, which meant PL 50, tier 5, if Mark was recalling a bit of Daihoonian trivia correctly. So the book was just a bit weaker than his skin.

    This was a mass produced booklet of tips and tricks for all Shapers, of all kinds, and it was meant to be a primer and in-depth overview of Shaper Magic, that was meant to be passed down through generations. It was probably very expensive. Tier 5 paper? Yeah, that was expensive as all heck.

    In a way, Mark was a lot happier that Addavein had given him a basic Shaper/Kinetic book. It seemed less insidious, or whatever.

    Less maleficent.

    Mark looked around some more, judged himself fine right where he was, so he started reading a bit more in depth.

    Surprisingly, nothing bothered him while he read. It had been mid-afternoon at Citadel Freyala, but over here, the day was much younger. It might be noon in a few more hours. Mark had plenty of time to read and absorb the book and then figure out what to do next.

    He did not think too much about Addavein.

    He was in a survival situation, now¡­ Which he kinda loved.

 082

    The book of Understanding Shaper Magic was all pretty normal stuff. It was just a primer at a mere 10 pages long, or 18 actual pages, front and back, with some pictures scattered throughout.

    It was still hella informative.

    Mark stood tall like the picture suggested ¡ªhe glanced down at the book he had propped up on a rock to read¡ª and then he held up a hand and moved the adamantium around his hand, using only his kinesis. He watched as he moved his body to make the black needles move, fingers twitching, hand slightly turning, and he was surprised. He hadn¡¯t even been aware he was moving his body to move the metals. Mark hummed. He picked up the book and read a bit more, and moved his adamantium around a bit more.

    He tried specifically not moving his body at all as he moved his metal, and that was tougher for some reason.

    ¡°¡­ Huh. Looks like I am mixing up my body with my astral body.¡±

    Moving one¡¯s body while moving one¡¯s designated material was a common pitfall of many early Shapers. Almost everyone had to be trained out of it, too. In almost all cases, a person did not need to move their fingers or toes or even their eyes, to properly shape their material.

    Mark read about the next test, which involved taking some small bits of adamantium and then holding it out as far away from himself as he could. A ¡®good distance¡¯ was usually ¡®an arms distance away for every tier of Power¡¯, though denser materials like metals usually had a shorter range, and lighter materials went very far, because the airyness of one¡¯s astral body directly contributed to the distance one could achieve.

    A person¡¯s astral body was about 2 to 3 times the size of their body, and though there were a lot of tricks to extending one¡¯s range, one¡¯s range was pretty much set by the size of their astral body.

    With his feet firmly planted on the ground, Mark stood with his arms to his side and with a big drop of metal hanging in front of him. He moved the metal forward, meter by meter¡­ by meter by meter¡­ Okay. Now the metal drop was a good 10 meters away, which seemed too far, but Mark knew he could go further. Easily. 10 meters was as far as Mark wanted to go with it, though, for now. It still felt firmly like a piece of him, so he didn¡¯t think it would fall out of his influence, but he didn¡¯t want to accidentally lose the metal drop; to have it drop out of his senses and fall into leaf litter. It was currently floating over the river bank, so Mark could probably find it easy enough if it did drop out of his control.

    In fact, he waggled the droplet around and found it easy to move back and forth, and rather secure.

    Obviously, something was going on between Union and Adamantiumkinesis to give him this range, that was plain to see¡­ or maybe it wasn¡¯t plain to see at all, because there was no visual indication that Mark¡¯s range was that far, but it felt right¡ª

    Mark waggled the stone a bit too far, and then something broke in an ¡®I accidentally held my cup at the wrong angle and all the water spilled out¡¯, sort of way.

    The stone went flickering into the water and Mark shouted, ¡°NO!¡±

    He raced for the stone, rushing forward across rocks and leaping over an embankment. He dashed into the water and felt¡ª

    There.

    Up to his thighs in cold water, Mark laughed as he kinetically pulled the adamantium stone out of the water. It had drifted downstream a few meters, but Mark brought it right back to himself. Mark¡¯s heart was racing, darkness threading into the world all around him, but it calmed down fast enough.

    ¡°Holy fuck,¡± Mark said¡­ And then he paused. ¡°I think I might have a skewed idea of what is scary, or not.¡±

    Talking to dragons? ¡­ Also terrifying! But Mark was ¡®getting used to it¡¯.

    Losing treasure? Truly terrifying!

    Mark plodded out of the waters, onto the shore. With the sun shining brightly overhead, Mark started walking back up to where he had left the book.

    Ya know? It honestly felt pretty great being out here, alone, wearing just a loincloth. Very ¡®manly¡¯. Primal, or something. Dangerous, in a fun kinda way. The sun felt great, too. Mark would have expected monsters, and yeah, there were monsters out there. Probably. None had disturbed him yet. Other than that, Mark expected bugs. The outside world was sometimes full of horrible bugs that¡ª

    Mark slapped the bug dead, splattering goo, before he even had a moment to realize what was happening. A beetle-like thing had been trying to eat Mark¡¯s thigh, but it couldn¡¯t do anything but try, and now it was splattered green and black goo.

    With a soft breath of purity and impurity, Mark cleaned himself off¡ª

    That¡¯s when he heard the buzzing.

    On the shore, beetles lifted off of the banks, revealing bones. What Mark had thought were river rocks were actually beetles, and yeah, that¡¯s what Mark had been scared of when he thought of monsters outside of city walls. Swarms of bugs that could consume creatures whole, that that swarmed even harder when one of them died¡ª

    Union twitched, and Mark felt the world kinda flow, but not really, a thousand tiny pulls in reality aimed in his direction. The beetles saw him, and they wanted to eat him. Also maybe vengeance? Mark was feeling weird things with Union.

    Mark slammed into them with a Union of vein decay, at the speed of thought, taking all of their vein integrity in turn. Black lightning briefly connected Mark to every single bug, and every single bug dropped dead, some of them even popping as Mark somehow destabilized their entire insides. Or something. He wasn¡¯t sure what happened to make them pop, exactly. Perhaps they were set to pop if they ever died, so that they could stink up the air and make their brethren realize that something had killed one of them.

    And now the shore was strewn with dead beetles and the bony carcasses of deer and other woodland things. Some bugs had splattered onto him.

    Mark did another round of cleansing, and then he went back to his book.

    Mark told himself, ¡°I feel better now that I have seen a monster. Less anticipation. Less worry.¡±

    Over the next hour, Mark found out a few things about his kinesis.

    Number One; he had to break himself from using physical cues to achieve astral movement.

    This was the same problem as his Union, though. According to Lola, Mark should be able to divorce physical action from astral action. He should be able to ¡®breathe¡¯ with his Union, and only Union, and not have to actually breathe, with his body, in order to make his Union breathe. But also according to Lola, most people don¡¯t achieve that break for a very, very long time.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    So maybe Mark was okay with having physical action inform his kinesis, at least a little.

    But that was when he ran into the next problem.

    Number Two; he couldn¡¯t maneuver his astral body as fast as he should be able to, because it was still linked to his physical body.

    Mark made a spinning blade of adamantium and tried every trick in the (very small) book to get that propeller to spin fast. It was like trying to rotate his hand fast, but without the limits of his physical body, so that he could actually rotate his entire hand around, if he wanted. This was not a fast speed, though. This level of speed barely allowed Mark to make a breeze with the fan.

    He tried to make needles rotate around his body fast. This was like trying to move his hand fast. Sure, he had range, and that helped with speed. Mark could swing a needle around quite fast at 10 meters out, but if he struck anything with that needle, like a tree or a rock, or whatever, the needle went out of his control 5 out of every 10 tries. Mark rapidly found out that anything within 4 meters was a lot more solidly attached to him.

    Mark also discovered that the fear of losing his adamantium was a lot less powerful as he continued to fumble the adamantium when it was too far from him.

    Mark swung a hand, just like he had seen kinetics do all the time on shows and movies, and the single needle he was concentrating on whipped through the air, as if he had an arm 4 meters long and only existed at the needle. With a crack and a loud ¡®tok!¡¯ Mark punched down at the river, the needle crashing through a large river rock. With a yank¡ª

    Mark tipped forward, for whatever he had struck held on to the needle.

    Some compensation later, with some other needles turned into coins that Mark pressed against other stones to hold himself secure, and Mark pulled back. The thrown needle was heavy as fuck, but Mark pulled and his quarry came up from the waters. Stones tumbled in the river, burbling dirt and bubbles into the flow¡ª

    And then a small boulder crested the waves, spilling other rocks and water away from it. The rock was brown and it had a hole in it that spiderwebbed across the surface. Mark yanked the rock around and then smashed it onto another boulder. The rock eventually shattered, releasing the black needle. Mark kinda smiled a little, feeling really good. That had been a very weighty rock!

    ¡°Rock yank,¡± Mark said, chuckling¡­

    A moment passed in thought.

    A breeze drifted through and the sun felt warmer for a moment.

    Mark went back to reading the book.

    He had gone through the testing phases of a ¡®new kineticist¡¯ and now he was moving onto actual applications.

    Mark swung his fist, swinging three needles around his body, slamming them into stone and then ripping them out of stone, each in different directions so that they didn¡¯t counterbalance him. He soon found out that he needed to throw down three of his needles into the ground so that he could get some better angles for the three needles he used to attack, but that was fine.

    So that was how you attacked with Shaper Powers.

    Now for movement.

    Mark slammed the needles sideways against the ground, and he lifted himself up off of the ground, unsteady at first, but then he started moving forward¡ª and then backward. He struggled. He tossed himself around way too much. He fell on his ass, knees, and back to his feet a few times because the orientation of the needles sometimes made them punch into the ground, instead of laying on top.

    6 needles was a bad idea.

    Mark switched out 3 of his 6 needles for 3 large rings.

    The rings worked a lot better as ¡®feet to stand on¡¯, up until the rings started slipping off of surfaces.

    Mark adjusted his tools again.

    3 caltrops and 3 needles.

    The caltrops worked remarkably well, actually. Each one was basically two smaller needles bent at 90 degrees, and then stuck onto each other by their centers. They were kinda small, but 3 of them supported Mark¡¯s weight, and while they pressed easily into the ground and they sometimes got stuck, Mark could use his moving bodyweight to yank them back out of the ground just as easily as they went in.

    Soon, Mark was floating forward and back and this way and that, figuring out how to move, to pluck his caltrops back out from behind him, and then shove them forward to support further forward movement. It was bouncy. It was uneven. Mark had no shock absorbers, except for learning how to manually move his astral body to absorb his bounciness.

    Mark crashed into a tree.

    He fell into dirt when a caltrop went into the ground instead of on top of the ground.

    He tore his loincloth from one particularly bad crash, but he fixed it back up, and then he kept going. It was weird to have his skin and body be a whole lot stronger than his clothes, but the whole experience was weird and fantastic.

    An hour after he began learning how to move around with his caltrops, Mark tucked the Shaper book into his loincloth-belt and made a plan. Addavein had spoken of the Not-Mississippi in Daihoon being close to where he had summoned Mark, and how he couldn¡¯t return Mark all the way to Citadel Freyala, but how he could put him on the other side of the Veil, somewhere around the Mississippi.

    Mark was next to a small river.

    Since the Mississippi River was the largest river in this part of the world, this tributary, or river, or whatever it was called, probably went to the Mississippi¡­ Maybe. Probably. Adding to that: the river flowed that way, to the west, according to the sun moving in that-ish direction, in the sky.

    So that meant that the Mississippi River was probably in that direction, and so civilization was probably in that direction. And if not, then people usually camped out or built cities at the mouths of rivers, as opposed to upstream.

    ¡°So we follow the water!¡± Mark announced to himself, as he lifted up from the ground on semi-steady ¡®legs¡¯. And then he tilted forward and started racing forward, laughing, shouting, ¡°WOOOOO!¡±

    Flying, even if it was technically just advanced-hovering, was the most exhilarating thing Mark had ever done¡­ Except for maybe hopping around in that spider-glider thing that Eliot had built. That wasn¡¯t fun past the first few jumps, though.

    But flying with kinesis?

    Pounding caltrops down, pushing off the ones in back, and then slipping forward to hover across uneven stone and rock, and fallen wood terrain? Almost flying? Flying, but only a meter off of the ground? This was fantastic. Newly-learned movements rapidly turned from fledgling-faltering to rushing-racing. Mark soon pulled apart one of his needles to make another caltrop, taking him down to 2 needles but giving him 4 ¡®legs¡¯, and suddenly he was off to the races. Barreling over rockfalls, slipping a bit but also catching himself just as fast. He rushed over fallen trees.

    Something in the forest suddenly tweaked his Union-sense, but Mark was outrunning whatever it was, and that unknown thing back there didn¡¯t even make an appearance, its tug on reality lessening and then vanishing. Mark raced on. Mark¡¯s heart beat hard and he swore that even the plant life all around him seemed to blossom with the thrill that Mark was feeling, in that very moment, as he flowed across the ground.

    He reached a cliff and waterfall. From this, upstream angle, it looked like a short drop. Mark went for it, racing across the edge¡ª

    His heart thrummed as his eyes went wide, as he realized that the ¡®short waterfall¡¯ was actually about 20 meters down to a large rockfall. Mark giggled as he pushed all four caltrop ¡®feet¡¯ at the rockfall, directly ahead of him.

    It was like landing on legs he didn¡¯t know he had; he absorbed the entire fall, not even striking the rocks with his body. But he did push off with his feet, breathing hard, heart thrumming, as he launched himself back into the air, just a meter.

    Mark kept flying.

    The next cliff came up fast. Mark aimed at the edge of the cliff and hunkered down as he leapt¡ª

    Mark skidded off of moss, his caltrops gathering a big hunk of slippery moss and some sort of algae. He flopped over the edge of the cliff, which was only 3 meters tall. He landed on a leg and a hand, and also all of his rapidly reoriented caltrops, laughing as he righted himself. Stone sparked under adamantine grip.

    Mark chuckled.

    And he flew.

 083

    There was a large pool ahead; a natural occurrence of where the river twisted.

    Mark had learned how to leap rather great distances by now, so he got close to the ground, going down to his actual feet, and then he physically and kinetically pushed off of the ground, making sure to flick and twist his caltrops so that they didn¡¯t catch on anything. Mark sailed across the big pool¡ª

    Something was below. It aimed at Mark.

    It felt very angry.

    A big turtle lifted up, water spilling off of its big brown shell, as its head poked above the surface, followed by three more heads looking up. All four heads¡ª and then a fifth!¡ª opened their maws and shot tendril-like wrappings at Mark, like they were some sort of spitting-spider hydra-turtle. Mark was in the middle of the air over the pool, over the turtle, by then. The turtle moved fast.

    Mark returned fire with a heavy drain of resilience and a giving of weakness, as he slashed through the oncoming, expanding web-shit with his two free needles, rapidly slashing through the attack, but it was throwing needles against liquid; it didn¡¯t do much.

    Mark landed just how he expected to land, before the jump, but he got webbed. The web rapidly began to expand on his skin, pulling at him in every direction as it tried to trap him, as it expanded and expanded. Mark briefly, quickly, did a Union of Brain with purity and impurity.

    Black lightning shattered the containment, cracking against the ground all around him, splattering the foam everywhere else but on Mark.

    The foam continued to multiply on the ground, turning from off-yellow to deeply golden in rapid seconds, hardening to the consistency of rock. Or maybe harder.

    The hydra turtle hissed more foam at Mark, but Mark battered it away with a Union of Brain for purity-impurity again, and then Mark went on the attack.

    Mark had really, really wanted to kill something, and this thing was an ambush predator, so it qualified so very, very much. All the rage Mark had been feeling, all the pain he had been bottling up, came out at that moment. He didn¡¯t even have to advance on the beast, to go into the water, because the hydra turtle was right there, trying to take a bite out of him.

    With a whip of kinesis, Mark slammed a needle through the nearest turtle head, right into its skull¡ª

    And then Mark promptly lost control of that needle.

    It was like a splash of cold water.

    He had lost the needle. He had lost a sixth of his reserves! And it hadn¡¯t even killed the monster, because the monster had 5 heads¡ª 7 heads! 7 heads, all aiming Mark¡¯s way. The single head he had attacked just flicked its head this way and that and then kept on keeping on! It wasn¡¯t dead yet.

    How high was its Body to be able to shrug off that! Had to be high 80s! Shit!

    It was a lesson.

    Mark pulled back, using his caltrops to pull away, and then he hit the monster with a Union of Brain, for vein integrity/decay. The hydraturtle didn¡¯t seem to care. It was going to take a while. The monster had an incredibly high Body.

    The monster hauled out of the water, chasing Mark.

    Mark did not run. He needed that needle back. He was going to get that needle back. Mark repositioned, keeping out of the way of the¡ª

    Oh shit that¡¯s a fast turtle.

    Mark scrambled to back up, rapidly gaining distance. The turtle advanced. Black veins connected him to the monster as Mark raced backward, down the riverbank, and the monster spat foam as it roared tiny roars and chased him. Foam landed on Mark¡¯s chest and legs, but he flickered purity/impurity, and the foam burst off of him. When that expanding threat was gone, Mark resumed vein decaying it.

    Two minutes later, and the damned thing was still harrying Mark and not dying, but it had stopped shooting foam. That was the only real positive of this scenario. Mark had learned the terrain, too, so that was another positive, but not really. Another positive was that Mark was confident he could eventually kill the monster.

    Most other people in this situation would have simply died, either from not being able to fly, to being caught up in all of the snapping turtle heads, to how fast the bastard moved. This thing was the size of a hovervan and it moved across the land with about as much power, plowing through the trees, through small rocks, and almost through boulders, too. The boulders had enough integrity to stay mostly intact, but they went flying just the same.

    And Mark flew on adamantium caltrops, staying ahead of the beast.

    This wasn¡¯t working, though. Mark needed to attack it more.

    Mark was reluctant to use his remaining needle of adamantium, but he could make the turtle bleed, probably, so he turned his needle into a scalpel. A scalpel wouldn¡¯t get caught in the creature¡¯s auric body¡­ Would it? No. But if it didn¡¯t work, then Mark would need to do something different with Union, maybe.

    Mark turned one needle into one scalpel, and he waited for one of the heads to snap at him¡ª

    The turtle put on a burst of speed, for Mark had slowed down when he transformed the needle, and the turtle noticed. The turtle snapped with five heads, each the size of Mark¡¯s own torso. But Mark darted backward, and like a kid trailing a finger through a wedding cake, Mark lifted the scalpel up across the nearest long, wrinkled neck.

    Black metal easily parted flesh, like a zipper opening up a jacket, revealing red underneath.

    Mark didn¡¯t lose control of his blade at all.

    The hydra roared and flinched, pulling back its injured neck backward as it launched its other heads forward, again, giving more chase. Mark took an eye here, he carved another wound there. But still, the turtle tried to eat him. The wounds Mark inflicted even began to heal, which was just plain fucking infuriating.

    This thing must have killed so many people.

    Mark made it bleed with as many cuts as he could inflict.

    Minutes later, with Mark flying around at a good speed and kiting the monster well, the monster finally started to slow down, and this time it wasn¡¯t a fake out, meant to lure Mark closer.

    It stopped.

    It was not dead, as it lay there on the shore, bleeding so very much and still not dying.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mark got to killing. The turtle snapped at him. It spat a bit of webbing. But it was already dead; it was just a matter of time.

    Mark¡¯s Union of Brain for vein integrity/decay was doing work, and his Union of Blood was pulling at the monster¡¯s resilience and giving it weakness, but not fast enough. The monster simply didn¡¯t care that it was bleeding from every orifice and roaring out foaming blood, so Mark began to dismantle the creature with an adamantium blade the size of a pinky. Mark focused on the head that had his adamantium needle, first. He scored marks across every head that came his way, snapping, as the creature rotated around to try and keep up with Mark.

    But then it laid down, too tired to move anymore.

    Mark focused, and soon the desired head rolled away¡ª

    The instant it came loose, Mark felt his adamantium inside the head return to him. He yanked it out of the dead turtle head, and then he turned it into another scalpel.

    Mark finished killing the thing with two small adamantium scalpels.

    More than once, Mark was pretty sure he had killed it, but it kept regenerating, or something. Even from death. Mark eventually popped its shell off and started blendering its insides. After killing the fourth heart, it died. Mark knew it died because his kinesis encountered no difficulty at all cutting through it, and then continuing to cut through it. Its astral body was gone.

    That had taken a good 20 minutes! The fuck!

    ¡°Monsters are still dangerous!¡± Mark told himself.

    And then Mark turned his attention to the hydraturtle¡¯s pool.

    How many people had it killed? Mark was probably nowhere near Memphi, or else this thing would have been dead a long time ago. But people had probably tried to kill it, anyway. There might be bodies in the water, for monsters only ate a little of what they killed. Mostly they defended territory, or they aggressively expanded, and they let smaller things eat what they killed.

    And Mark needed to kill any turtle eggs, if they existed.

    Mark floated over to the waters and went in, embracing the chill as he opened his eyes underwater.

    It was honestly too murky to see, so Mark briefly pulsed a Union of purity/impurity through the water, like lightning crashing out in every direction. The water cleared instantly, and it was still early afternoon, so there was plenty of light.

    Bones.

    Lots and lots of bones, and little fish eating on the bones. Or rather, they had been eating on the flesh, but Mark had cleared all of that away. That flesh had been tucked into the world, into all the plant life out there. And all that was left was bones. According to Union, the fish reoriented on Mark, but they were not man eaters. They were scavengers. Just normal fish, really. The turtle did not suffer other monsters to live near it, at all.

    ¡­ Those were bones down there.

    Mark looked at the bones again, and he tried not to freak out. It was a lot different seeing this sort of thing in real life than it was on television.

    Human skulls. Animal skulls. Ribcages and backpacks¡ª

    Oh! Backpack!

    ¡­ Maybe it had a working phone? Maybe a map?

    Was it wrong to loot the remains?

    ¡­ Yes, but also Mark was out here in survival mode, so¡­ he was going to loot the remains, and he hoped that anyone who might find his body, if a monster should ever kill him, would do the same.

    Mark grabbed the bag with a twist of adamantium latching on, and then he hauled out of the water.

    The backpack was one of those strong ones that could last forever in the wilderness. It was even still sealed, but water had gotten in somehow. Mark opened it up and dumped out a bunch of stuff that might have been under water for¡­ only months, Mark supposed? A week? Maybe just a few days¡­

    Oh holy shit.

    The sudden realization that there were human skeletons down there slammed into Mark¡¯s mind and Mark had a difficult moment. Mark breathed a bit, shuddered as cold water evaporated from his skin, and then he got back to looking at the contents of the bag.

    Underwear, shorts, papers that were unintelligible. A wallet with an ID.

    ¡®Mark Chambers of Memphi¡¯.

    Mark dropped the wallet. That was his own first name, but on a corpse¡¯s things¡ª

    Another realization, like lightning from an empty sky.

    Mark breathed out, ¡°I told Addavein that I would have been fine on Daihoon on my own, didn¡¯t I? Of all the arrogant, stupid¡­ Oh gods¡­¡±

    His voice trailed off as he stared at the bag¡¯s contents.

    A moment later, Mark pulled out what he could from the bag.

    He went back down into the waters and grabbed two more backpacks and a third one that was bitten through. He dumped stuff onto the shore and separated out what was useful versus what was not. There was one waterlogged diary that was readable and Mark flipped through it a bit to see what was there. According to the IDs, all of these people were from Memphi, which was one of the major cities on the Mississippi, so that wasn¡¯t too surprising. According to the diary they were roamers, cleaning up monster infestations outside the city.

    Mark read the last entry, specifically.

    ¡®We¡¯ve scouted the turtle and Penelope thinks we can take it. Famous last words, right? Anyway. Preliminary attacks show that it has a high regenerative ability, and it can run really fast. It has that sticky foam ability, but it hasn¡¯t used that with us, yet. It¡¯s probably out, having spent that ability on some other monster, though we will try to bait it into using that ability before we go in for the kill. So we¡¯re going for it! Update you tomorrow, diary. Or not! LOL!¡¯

    ¡­ Mark took another minute.

    Then he got to pulling out all the IDs he could find. When he was done, Mark had 2 IDs, but the diary was the real score for identification; it contained the names of everyone on the roaming kill squad, which had been 6 people. With that done, and checking all the electronics and finding them fried, Mark scouted the clothes. A pair of shorts looked like they would work, but they were a 38 waist and too small in the thighs and ass, which did not fit at all, so Mark ended up wearing some rather short swim trunks that were a deep blue color. No shirts, though; none of them fit.

    Better to go shirtless than wearing something super tight.

    With new, much better clothing, along with the most salvageable of the backpacks strapped to his back along with all of the identifications that he could scrounge up, Mark once again took to the air, holding a map in his hands.

    Now, he wasn¡¯t exactly sure, but he was pretty sure that this river he was on was¡­ this one. Or maybe this other one¡­

    Mark hummed.

    ¡°I¡¯m maybe 30 miles from the Mississippi, and there¡¯s either a big lake between here and there, or not, or there¡¯s the Ohio River first, or not,¡± Mark said to himself, to check if it sounded correct, or not. ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll run into one of them, I¡¯m sure, and then follow them downstream to the big river, which runs directly into Memphi.¡± A moment. ¡°¡­ Yes. This is the plan.¡±

    Follow the water. Civilization existed at the end of the water, usually.

    Hopefully Mark didn¡¯t run into any lakes with any truly dangerous monsters. The list of powers that could no-sell him was probably longer than Mark imagined it to be, but it only really included speedsters, mind monsters, weird arcane things, and any truly dangerous S-rank things, but monsters (of the non-humanoid variety) usually only got strong knacks, like that hydraturtle. They didn¡¯t get Mind Control, like humans did, and even if Mark met a Mind Nudger, like those goblins, he was rocking at least a tier 5 Mind right now, what with his resilience working so hard. The strength of his Mind would hard-counter most controlling knacks or even Powers¡ª

    Ah! But monsters also got illusionary shit all the time. Attacking through camouflage and along weird angles? Yes! That is what monsters did. That could be difficult.

    ¡­ But Mark had his Union sense, and most monsters could only influence along the senses they already possessed, and since they didn¡¯t have a Union sense, Mark could always know when something was aiming to kill him. He was never truly blind¡­ somewhat. And there were also his kinesis-enabled Shaper senses, which Mark was still developing. He could only really sense his own adamantium, which was already an incredibly rare metal, so he didn¡¯t expect to run into any of that out here¡­ or anywhere, really. But he could still feel the world through his adamantium caltrops and whatnot. That would probably come in handy¡­ eventually, right?

    It was weird to put ¡®fingers¡¯ down into the muck and grab onto stones and propel himself forward, but Mark was getting a really good feel for that new part of his Power, which was really pretty great, in his opinion.

    Mark got moving.

 084

    Mark was theoretically making good time.

    He was certainly doing more than 30 miles per hour, too, so he should be at the Mississippi or the Ohio River before sunset, and from there¡­ Maybe he could move even faster, once he wasn¡¯t in such a wild area?

    Finding a ¡®less wild¡¯ area didn¡¯t take that much longer.

    Mark came across bridges that were mostly wrecked, which led to streets that were completely overgrown, which he did not take. He continued on with the river, checking his map every so often, trying to figure out where he was.

    Monsters started popping out of the forest, or the water, or even the invisible air itself, every now and then. Mark killed them all, and he felt so much better after every kill. So much more secure in himself, out here in the middle of nowhere. It would have been hubris to stay on Daihoon, so Mark was kinda glad that Addavein had thrown him back to Earth, but Mark would never tell him that. No no no.

    Mark took out his rage on all the murderous monsters that he could reach.

    Everywhere he looked, there were monsters.

    Cat-type beasts in trees that wanted to take his head.

    Deer-type monsters that looked innocent at first glance (hence the name of the type; these ones were technically bunny-shaped) but then mutated into hooked horrors that tried to eat Mark¡¯s face.

    Wolf-types that hunted in packs but did not resemble wolves at all. These ones were more scaled than furred and they had swords for tails.

    Something slammed into Mark¡¯s mind, trying to tell him to sleep, but Mark raged and found the spider on the tree that had tried to catch him in its web of mind magic. Mark killed that fucker dead. When Mark found a nest of the same spiders along with human remains stuffed into the bottom of a tree, he pulled out the remains, grabbed some backpacks, squashed bugs, and figured out how to run his adamantium through a tree fast enough and solid enough, like a blender in the middle of the dead wood, to make the tree catch flame.

    Mark burned down a small part of the forest and killed every single mind spider he could find with a few pulses of Union of Brain.

    The only things that really survived well in this hellscape were the prey beasts that multiplied fast; the rats, squirrels, bugs, and many small birds, and lots of fish. Everything else was just an offshoot of a previously-established monster species that either stayed the same, or had offspring that mutated in different directions.

    Were there bunnies out here that weren¡¯t collections of fangs, tongues, and mouths, on the inside?

    Possible!

    Mark hadn¡¯t seen a single real bunny!

    So far 100% of bunnies, over 80 of them at least, had tried to jump at him to eat his face. Those bunnies got real dead, real fast, and not to Union at all. Mark could whip adamantium through those little beasts easily enough, mincing them to death, without fear of losing his adamantium. So far, of all the monsters he killed, only the hydra turtle had possessed a strong enough astral body that he had truly blocked Mark¡¯s adamantiumkinesis.

    Everything else just fell apart.

    Mark was using scalpels, though. Not needles. The scalpel shape allowed him to cut things up, instead of pierce things through. Piercing was stupid! Cutting was best! All the way.

    He did experiment with grabbing big rocks and hitting monsters with those, but simple rocks were PL 0, while adamantium was PL 79; it was no contest which one was better.

    Other discoveries included the fact that Mark much preferred using Union to heal himself and weaken his enemies, than to use it to kill his enemies directly. Somehow it felt dirty to kill with Union; to hurt with a power that was used to protect and heal. But adamantium, though, had a much more visceral, cutting/deadly/murderous feeling to it. There was feedback when he carved open something. He knew when he had hit something important. He could feel it through his adamantium. There wasn¡¯t any feedback to Union.

    ¡°But that¡¯s all kinda¡­ true villain-ish,¡± Mark mumbled, as he flew down the river, which was rapidly getting wider and wider¡ª

    Suddenly the river opened up into a lake¡ª

    No. Another river. It was moving from right to left, and it was massive. Mark grinned.

    ¡°The Ohio River, I presume!¡±

    The river was full of monsters, of course. They noticed Mark as he sped down the riverbank, but Mark barely noticed them, except by their tug on his Union-sense. Was Mark making too much noise? It didn¡¯t seem like it. Maybe the monsters were just hypersensitive to displays of power, or something. Whatever the case, the southern bank of the Ohio River was rather overgrown and right up against the water, except for where normal animal/monster traffic had carved the land into sandy or rocky areas.

    A lot of things used the water¡ª

    ¡°Ah!¡± Mark said, ¡°Right!¡±

    Mark was rushing down a riverbank on a major river, where predator and prey often gathered in order to drink, and in some cases, be eaten. Of course everything was looking at him, even if those things were far away. They were threat-assessing him. Most of those things out there just took one look at Mark, and though they all had brief ideas of ¡®kill kill kill!¡¯ or ¡®eat eat eat!¡¯, Mark was too fast for them.

    They ignored him when he got out of range, which happened rather fast, and Mark was already ignoring them to start with, for they were too far away to kill and they didn¡¯t try to attack him first.

    Maybe Mark could have crossed the land and gotten away from this transitional area, but that seemed like even more of a crapshoot for true danger. At least here at the riverbank there was always tons of movement, all the time, so it was expected for things to be dangerous. Not like in the woods, where spiders could prepare traps, or turtles could become demigods in their domain and actually defend their territory.

    Mark sped along, down the riverbank, though he did note a few places on the map where the riverbank curved hard, and it would be easier/faster to cross half a mile of land, than it would be to cross 5 miles of curving riverbank.

    He took a chance on one of those detours.

    When Mark popped out the other side of the one land detour, he even managed to find the same river again. Which was a miracle! A small miracle, really. It was still incredibly cool to be able to read a map, plot a shortcut, and then actually achieve that shortcut.

    Mark chuckled and kept flying, hoping to make it to a city before nightfall.

    He had to be flying at 35 or 40 miles per hour, unless he was wildly overestimating his speed, which was completely possible. He knew that he couldn¡¯t run with his real legs at half of this speed, though.

    Maybe the turnoff to the Mississippi River would be soon?

    And then Memphi would be around one of these corners.

    Maybe they¡¯d have towers out this far, though.

    Memphi was a major metropolitan area¡ª

    ¡°HALT! FLIER! HALT!¡±

    Mark laughed at the voice, which came out of a bundle of trees and bushes to the left, and at the four different pulls on the fabric of reality, aiming his way. He had noticed the pulls a while before he got here, but he was rather visible, running out here in the open, and many different things had been looking at him with intent to harm, so he hadn¡¯t paid any attention to the pulls. Whatever was in those small woods could stay in those small woods; Mark wasn¡¯t falling for it.

    Mark kept on flying, shouting back, ¡°Listening to voices in the wilds is a bad idea!¡±

    But then the air froze around Mark, ice rapidly crashing up and around him.

    He had sprung a trap.

    Mark adjusted the threat from ¡®weird voice¡¯ to ¡®credible problem¡¯.

    He reached out with everything he had, spinning his knives through the ice, shattering the developing cocoon, launching himself toward the threats, reaching with Union into the four people and sending three of them straight to their knees¡ª

    The fourth one just toppled over, face planting into the dirt¡ª

    Oh shit.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    People.

    Metaphorical ice stabbed into Mark¡¯s chest even before he rapidly reoriented, healing the people and flicking away the ice around him with some purity/impurity, healing the women on the ground (probably brain injury, fuck!) and righting whatever wrongs he had done to the other people. They were all wearing normal wilderness gear, but they also had yellow and black armbands with ¡®M¡¯ on them.

    Mark took a moment to look at them; a very fast moment.

    It was four people, two men and two women of various ages. The women looked cleaner than the men, but one of the women, the much younger one, had just plopped into the mud. She was coming around though, groaning and holding her head. One woman stood in the back, looking maybe 50-ish years old. Mother to the one who had fallen over? Maybe. But she wasn¡¯t making any moves to help the fallen woman. She was staring hard at Mark, and so was everyone else. The woman that Mark had downed groaned, as she got herself out of the muck. The two men were just a pair of guys, maybe 25 or 30, hard to tell. They watched Mark. Brown hair was watching Mark¡¯s adamantium flicker around, the other was just watching Mark.

    To Mark¡¯s Union, they were¡­ something adjacent to hungry? Some weird emotion? But also scared and reorienting and very human. Those were human emotions, for sure. And then came the anger.

    All of them looking really fucking pissed¡ª

    Anger turned to hate. To harm. A lot of intent to harm. They didn¡¯t move to enact their desires, but Mark recognized that pull on Union. There was something else in there, though. Some sort of pull that Mark didn¡¯t recognize. That hunger-adjacent emotion was right there, and Mark couldn¡¯t tell what it was.

    The muddy woman was still in pain, and now she looked at herself and shook her arms out, saying, ¡°Fucking mud every fucking where!¡±

    Mark flashed out purity/impurity in a Union of Brain and all of them cleaned up in an instant, and then Mark pulled back his cleaning and simply healed them, drawing power from the world and from all the monsters lurking quietly in the Ohio River. In that instant, all of them jerked, all of them realizing that they were clean¡­ Or maybe they had needed to go to the bathroom, and now they didn¡¯t.

    The younger woman was surprised, and then she was looking at Mark with a weirdness in her sight.

    Mark hovered about 20 meters away, feeling simply terrible. He said, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about the attack. I did not mean to react with such¡­ force.¡± He kinda just stopped there, because now the team was rallying and they must have had a Thinker in them, or something, because Mark felt something strange happening in the fabric of the world.

    The team was all Union-pointed at each other, the vectors of their existence wrapped up all together, bouncing and¡ª

    And then they Union-pointed at the bits of adamantium that Mark had floating around.

    Suddenly their drive to kill Mark went through the roof¡ª

    And then the older woman¡¯s vector slammed into Mark, making a wedge, prying him apart, just a little.

    Just enough.

    The old woman¡¯s voice was the nicest thing, as she asked, ¡°You can give us some of those metal trinkets, can¡¯t you? We¡¯re so poor, and we need so much money to pay for my son¡¯s cancer treatments.¡±

    ¡­ What the fuck?

    Mark, of course, wanted to help them with their money problems, but he was just as poor as them, and it was crazy to ask for someone¡¯s weapons. That was just an insane request. Completely off-the-wall wrong. Did you ask for someone¡¯s sword in the middle of the wilds in order to sell it off to a city and pay off debt, or some shit like that? No, you did not.

    The request honestly made Mark a bit mad.

    ¡­ But Mark still wanted to help them.

    Mark smiled a little as he got closer, asking, ¡°How about I heal the guy¡¯s cancer? I¡¯m pretty sure I can do it. Any Freyalan could, really¡­¡±

    Mark quirked his head to the side a little, as that truth of cancer healing felt pretty true.

    ¡­ But of course there were truly dangerous things out there that Union couldn¡¯t heal, and you needed a True Healer for.

    They probably had one of those bad cancers; the magical ones.

    Mark said, ¡°I have an uncle in the city that does True Healing, if you need that instead. Maybe I can talk to him on your behalf! How close are we to the city, anyway?¡±

    The old woman stared at Mark, and her eyes were the world.

    But Mark still sensed the two men walk to the sides, their vectors of KILL KILL KILL moving to flank Mark, while the younger woman stood there, and the air got chilly. Supercooled, maybe? But not really. The young woman was pointed in every direction, all around Mark, specifically not pointing at him, for the moment. But all of her chilly winds curved through the air. They were guns aimed in Mark¡¯s direction.

    Mark looked to the old woman, though. She was the only one that mattered¡­

    But now the young woman was pointed at Mark to KILL KILL KILL, too.

    Why were they so scared of him? They didn¡¯t need to fear him.

    ¡­ He probably did look pretty scary, though, hovering here and with black veins pulsing into the air around him. And also almost nude. He was wearing shorts, though! And he had a backpack. He was clearly a good guy ¡®out for a day run¡¯¡ª

    The old woman spoke with the most pleasant of voices, ¡°We have our own contacts, honeydew. We just need some money, and our scanners tell us that you¡¯re truly rich. You wouldn¡¯t mind sharing, would you? Just a little bit?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Mark said, feeling a bit of anger over being asked to sell his weapons for these people. Of course, if they wanted actual help Mark was right there for them, but even kindness had limits, right? ¡°I¡¯m not rich at all. I can help you find some people to heal yourselves, though¡ª Oh! Do you need an escort? It¡¯s dangerous out here.¡± Mark smiled. ¡°I can help escort you back!¡±

    The old woman frowned, her voice taking on a deeper edge as she bled from her nose and eyes¡ª

    A familiar tone. A familiar look. A familiar face.

    Mom was here.

    Mom stood on the grassy bank of the Ohio River, saying, ¡°We just need some money, son. Can¡¯t you spare some? Maybe some of that metal you have flicking around, pouring out of your veins? Spare some money for your mother, son.¡±

    No.

    Unreal.

    Impossible.

    The illusion did not break, but Mark knew it was an impossibility, anyway.

    Sure. He could accept his mother was alive and wanting money. That wasn¡¯t the issue.

    But Mom would never want to kill him, or disarm him in the wilds. This woman and her companions were all angled toward Mark, looking to make a kill. And that was impossible to accept.

    Mark backed away¡ª

    Mom¡¯s face turned ugly as she snapped, ¡°Now!¡±

    Mark simply flew away.

    That had always been a choice, it seemed.

    The air turned to ice, but Mark crushed the ice and purified it away.

    A sword stuck into his side, through his stomach and organs and toward his heart, but he barely felt it, though he did feel it when he hacked off an arm attached to the knife; it was like running a finger through gelatin, but with frozen bananas inside. The bananas must have been the bone.

    Something confused the world, turning up to down, and down to up, but Mark still understood where his body was in relation both to his adamantium caltrops and his sense of Union with the world. There was a big river with monsters over there. The grass grew strong underneath him. The people who wanted to kill him were still everywhere around him, though he was leaving them behind rather fast. That was more than enough to let him know which way was which.

    Mark ran away, down the sky, over the river, up the mountain and down the canyon, though none of that was true at all.

    That illusion broke when Mark got far enough away, and then he was just on the grassy river bank, rushing forward.

    Trying to forget the angry face of his mother.

    He barely remembered pulling the sword out of his side, but it came out and Mark healed up the wound.

    The severed hand fell to the ground.

    Mark held on to the sword for whatever reason. He wasn¡¯t quite sure. It was shiny and silver and looked valuable.

    And Mark flew away from the fight. Away from the face and voice of his mother. Away from the first real conflict he had ever had with other people.

    He had no idea how to process it.

    As he flew, he began to realize all the little bits about what had been wrong back there.

    They had tried to kill him for their own gain. They had used their Powers to try and force him to give them money. MONEY! Just for monetary gain! They had tried to kill him for money!

    That had been a real, actual attempt on Mark¡¯s life.

    Not just a scammer, like what Addashield had done to all of his previous apprentices, and how he decided not to do with Mark, to let Mark go with a tri-Talent and a few words wishing him well in his life, and to take the dragon-shaped exit from his demon Contract. It wasn¡¯t anything like what Addavein had done, either, who had shoved himself into Mark¡¯s life and then summoned Mark across the world and into Daihoon on a whim, and then sent him back to Earth on a different whim. Addavein was going loopy from lack of sleep¡­ or something. That sort of shit could almost be forgiven. All of that shit was just really big things happening around Mark. Big, global events.

    Was it even wrong to hate a demon for what it had done to his parents? Demons were just demons, after all. They were completely amoral.

    ¡­ No.

    It was okay to hate demons, because they were amoral.

    Mark held onto that hate just fine, it seemed.

    But those people back there, with those black and yellow Memphi armbands, had just tried to kill him, straight up, for his adamantium. They were not monsters trying to eat him, which was pretty normal for monsters so Mark didn¡¯t begrudge them that; not really. They weren¡¯t demons, that had forced Addashield to do a bunch of truly horrible shit, and which caused Addashield to finally kill himself and dragonize when he found a good opportunity.

    Those people on the shore of the Ohio River were just people.

    And they had tried to kill him for reasons of greed.

    That had been that hunger-adjacent emotion he had been sensing.

    Greed.

    They hadn¡¯t been wearing basic browns, either, so they were already above the poverty line. Memphi was a tier 4 city, with a whole lot better basic amenities than Orange City, so those people should have had good lives¡­ right?

    Mark had no idea how to process what had just happened.

    So he flew faster, as the sun began to lower in the western sky.

 085

    Mark¡¯s mind wandered while he raced down the riverbank, flying on four ¡®feet¡¯ made of adamantium caltrops. Black veins beat from his astral body, filling the air, drifting into the weave of the world and drawing resilience from the surroundings, while giving weakness in turn. He ate up the miles and he gripped a man¡¯s silver sword in his hand.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing with the sword, but he was holding onto it.

    Ten miles away from that encounter, Mark raced across an innocuous-looking bit of sandy riverside and the land tried to snap shut on top of him, with fangs and whipping tendrils and an opening maw right underneath Mark¡¯s feet. He reacted before he realized he was in danger, leaping up, the fangs of the monster snapping shut beneath his legs.

    Sudden rage came upon Mark, like the burning of a house.

    Mark brutalized that monster, using his new silver sword and his scalpel of adamantium to rip it to shreds, right there on the shore of the Ohio River.

    When he was done, when he was breathing hard after the killing, Mark recognized the appearance of the trap, and the monster. It was a frog-type, or maybe more crocodile-shape that had opened its maw a full 180 degrees and then it had buried itself in the grassy mud, waiting for something to fly into its mouth. It wasn¡¯t even aware it had attacked Mark before it had attacked him, and thus Union didn¡¯t warn him at all. The alligator-thing had activated on a trigger reflex, like a fly trap¡­ or like an alligator. It was an automatic devour-reflex.

    Now that Mark was aware of the monster, and he wasn¡¯t lost in his own world, he saw more open-maws waiting here and there on the banks of the river, in the sandy, muddy spots. Mark was more careful as he flew now, because these ¡®hidden¡¯ monsters were kinda everywhere. His thinking didn¡¯t go as deep as it had been going, before the trap. He was more present.

    Mark killed a few more trap monsters before they had time to react to him, each of them ¡®waking up¡¯ with a snap of their jaws, even if Mark wasn¡¯t in the area of attack, even if he killed them from the side. They were remarkably easy to kill from the outside, but tougher on the inside. Specialized ambushers? Yeah.

    ¡­ And there were a lot of them. Very easy to see, too¡­ Hmm.

    Mark stopped killing them. They were probably a monster that Memphi would want to keep around, just to make it easier to control all the other randomness that came with unknown monsters. Trap monsters that were easy to see for humans might be remarkably hard for other monsters to see.

    Mark flew on.

    Maybe 15 miles from the encounter with the people who had tried to murder and rob him, Mark found a quiet spot, free of monsters, and he sat down and had a moment.

    The sword was a good sword; plain, but very well made. It was a meter-long thing with a solid crossbar and a solid handle. The whole thing was one whole piece of metal, without any adornment or anything fancy at all. It was a working tool.

    It might have even been mithril.

    Mithril was PL 65, which was weaker than adamantium by a ¡®considerable¡¯ amount, while adamantium was PL 79. The sword could just be a silvered sword, too, made with alchemical silver, which was something like PL 50. Different alchemies made different qualities of silvered swords.

    Those people had probably stolen this sword from someone they killed.

    Mark made an easy decision. He was going to tell the authorities and leave it in their hands. Probably give them the sword, too. It had to be someone¡¯s family heirloom, or something like that¡ª

    ¡°Oh shit. I cut off that guy¡¯s sword arm.¡±

    ¡­ He didn¡¯t know how he felt about that.

    Mark watched the river flow for a little while. It was a big, wide, and brown-blue stretch of water, filled with life, while the lands around Mark were filled with different sorts of life. There were monsters all around Mark, visible due to the strength of their vectors pointed this way and that in the world all around him, but none of them were pointed in his direction, so he was safe-ish. There were ambush predators that reacted without thinking, though. Mark had forgotten about that part of his Tutorial training.

    Dealing with people who wanted to harm him had never been part of his Tutorial training.

    Mark breathed in the good and breathed out the bad, and soon he felt less disturbed. He got back up on his caltrop ¡®feet¡¯ and kept going.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    15 minutes of hard-flying later, and Mark wondered if he had missed the Mississippi River.

    It was fine, though. The Ohio River and the Mississippi Rivers flowed together. He¡¯d find Memphi soon enough¡ª

    There was a big tower on the horizon. It looked like a tree stump from this distance, but that was just to disguise it. Mark could tell it was a guard tower of Memphi, because they had spotted him. Their vectors pointed his way. They didn¡¯t feel murderous at all. They just felt present. Waiting. It was so much different from the monsters, and from the people back there. It was a breath of fresh air.

    Mark felt buoyed as he rushed forward.

    Soon, he breached some sort of unseen perimeter and the guards in the tower watched him intently. Their base really did look like a massive tree stump, but done in grey concrete and the size of a 10 story building. The top even had craggy ¡®broken wood¡¯ edges that hid people looking out at Mark, while the bottom had ¡®tangled roots¡¯ that ¡®hid¡¯ some doors. For 50 meters around the tower, the land was plain grass; a killing field.

    Mark got to the edge of the killing field and shouted, ¡°Hello! I need some help!¡±

    He waited.

    One of the roots opened up at the bottom of the tower and a man stood there, wearing webweave armor and plates on top of that armor. He had a black and yellow armband with an ¡®M¡¯ on the center. Mark almost freaked out, but he knew, rationally, that the armbands were just normal tools of identification for Memphi, or something. Mark might have seen some of them in the debris he cleaned out of the backpacks of the dead, but he couldn¡¯t recall that right now¡ª

    The man shouted back, ¡°We don¡¯t talk to people here unless they have an emergency! Go to the city if you have a problem.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure where to begin, exactly.

    He managed to organize a hierarchy of needs well enough, based upon what these people needed to know, and he said, ¡°Some people tried to kill me up the river, about 15 miles, or something. I can describe them.¡± He held up the sword. ¡°One of them stabbed me with this, and I took the guy¡¯s arm for it. There was an older woman Mind Controller and a younger woman Ice Weaver, or something like that. I don¡¯t know, exactly. The other two might have just been brawnies, or maybe just Knacks¡ª Ah! One of them was a Mass Illusionist, for sure. Both the brawny and the Illusionist were men, maybe 25 or 30-ish.¡±

    The people in the guardhouse, which Mark estimated to be 17 people, all rapidly got on high alert. There was no outward signal that they went on high alert, but Mark could tell from the weaving of vectors that there were 17 people in there, and over half of them pointed his way. After a moment, with one of the vectors inside wildly pointing in other directions ¡ªmaybe giving orders?¡ª most of the people in the tower started pointing in other directions, looking around the tower for the other threats¡­ Hmm.

    Did they think Mark was tricking them, or something?

    Mark almost wanted to be mad about that. Why the fuck would a human try to trick another human in the wilds! But then he realized, again, what had been done to him. He was fucking furious, about so many things right now. His anger wasn¡¯t going away.

    The guard standing by the opening of the tower glared at Mark, and then elsewhere, scanning the land. He turned back toward Mark. ¡°You fought them off yourself?¡±

    That was too much.

    Mark spat, ¡°YES I fucking fought them off myself! THE FUCK¡ª¡± Mark took a breath. ¡°¡­ Sorry. I¡¯ve never experienced that before. It was¡­ not easy. I can heal myself, so¡­¡± Mark held up the sword with just a few fingers, letting it dangle in his grip; he did not hold it like a weapon at all, in order to look like less of a threat, which was crazy. Why would a human be a threat to another human! How funny! Mark chuckled. ¡°They stabbed this into me! Almost got my heart¡­ They might have gotten my heart, actually.¡± Mark felt cold. ¡°Never thought¡­ Humans would hurt other humans, you know?¡±

    The guard regarded Mark, right alongside a bunch of people inside the tower.

    The guard listened to something; he probably had an earpiece¡ª

    ¡°We¡¯re not handling that. Go to the city. It¡¯s 10 miles down the river. Take you about 20 minutes at your rate of movement. We¡¯ll have an Inquisitor meet you at the Eastnorth River Gate. Do you have a name? ID?¡± Without missing a moment, the guard added, ¡°Don¡¯t come closer. I don¡¯t need to see the ID.¡±

    Mark blinked, assessing if he really looked that dangerous or not¡­

    Mark answered, ¡°Mark Careed. Just registered as a Villain for the Hero/Villain Program. And a Slayer. So I have credentials.¡±

    The guard relaxed a little. ¡°A villain, huh? You certainly got the look. What the fuck are you doing out here, wearing booty shorts and a backpack¡ª Eh! I don¡¯t need to know. My boss is telling me to move you along; that we won¡¯t deal with whatever this is. Thanks for the warnings. We¡¯ve taken note of your complaint and descriptions of the people you claimed attacked you.¡±

    Mark felt a little better, but at the words ¡®you claimed attacked you¡¯, he bristled again. He crushed that anger down, and said, ¡°Then I¡¯ll go to the city. Thanks! Just stay on this side of the river?¡±

    ¡°Correct!¡±

    The guard waved Mark off, and then went back inside the roots of the guard tower.

    Mark flew on, skirting the tower¡¯s kill zone area.

    The people in the tower were a little more active after Mark appeared, but they didn¡¯t do anything for or against him. Even their various vectors were calming down, which was nice to see.

    And an Inquisitor would meet Mark at the gate.

    He felt better already.

 086

    Memphi was one of the largest cities in the world at 45-ish million people, located across a 1000-ish square miles, or something like that. Mark had looked up a lot about the city after talking with Uncle Alexandro and making ¡®plans¡¯ to eventually move here. They were rather nebulous plans, and they were going to change, but it was fine to be here right now? This was good?

    Sure.

    Memphi was a citystate in parts, mostly the East and Western parts, with Eastern Memphi being the much larger half. The Mississippi River carved a mile-wide shipping lane through the center of the territory of Memphi. That river was one of the most heavily guarded rivers in the world, because it went right through the city, and it connected Chicago with the Gulf of Mexico, and a bunch of other cities out there. They used that river for shipping, fishing, and the water needs of 45 million people.

    The river here didn¡¯t have a solid metal wall made of cylinders, like the bay of Orange City, but it did have some sort of bubble-wall that rose on both the intake and exit of the city. It was something that they had purchased from the Aluatha Empire and which needed constant upkeep, but that river was the lifeblood of the city, so they made it work. That bubble wall was pretty amazing to see in person, along with the more normal walls of the city.

    Mark slowed his flight when he was a mile away from the city, to stare.

    Memphi¡¯s walls rose on the horizon like a solid cliff face. The Mississippi River had a similar ¡®cliff face¡¯ to it, but that cliff face was made of white water; bubbles. Stone towers stood like big tree trunks here and there in the waters of the Mississippi. Mark couldn¡¯t tell a lot of what he was seeing, but he knew city defenses when he saw them. It was all so massive¡ª

    Mark spotted something that made him reevaluate his entire trip here.

    A shipping-container ship pushed out of the bubble wall, like a child gathering bubbles in a bathtub. The ship, covered in bubbles, moved near the pillars in the water, dwarfing those pillars, still floating on bubbles, and then the ship vanished from sight, the bubbles turning translucent along with the ship.

    And the ship floated northward, and pretty fast.

    Mark watched the surface of the river ripple in the invisible ship¡¯s passage, and that was it.

    Invisible ships! How many had Mark missed? A lot, probably. Maybe some of the attention-vectors on the river that had pinged his way had been people on ships, looking at him. Not everything out there had wanted to kill him, after all.

    Mark moved closer to the city wall and soon he was walking among other people. All of them were in groups. Mark was the only one solo. He stood out quite a bit because of that¡­ Probably. But he was also ¡®flying¡¯, which always garnered attention. Not many people could naturally fly.

    Mark stopped flying and soon started walking, but people were still eyeing him. Soon enough, though, the people were more focused on their own patrols, or whatnot. Mark wasn¡¯t sure. They kept to their business, and Mark kept to his own business.

    Mark came across a big sign posted right in the middle of a bunch of different dirt paths that led into the wilds. The sign was maybe 500 meters from what had to be the ¡®Eastnorth River Gate¡¯.

    Chief among the big sign area were a bunch of little signs, pointing down various roads leading away from this place. Those smaller signs had numbers to them. They were paths for patrols, obviously.

    Then came the warnings and the kill advisories. A blanket warning was issued against getting near the river, as the river was highly dangerous and unpredictable. ¡®Only approved teams should attempt getting close to the river¡¯.

    Which was strange¡­ But yeah. The river was dangerous. But it was also a good path to take! If you could take it.

    A few other signs spoke of monsters that ¡®did not count for monster kills¡¯ because Memphi wanted them around. Those various desired-monsters were the alligator trappers on the river that Mark had encountered. Other such monsters were some sort of cat-type monster that was a collection of bright glowing worms that hung out in trees and were very visible, and which ate whatever attacked them but otherwise did nothing, and a dog-type monster that crapped out ¡®delicious smelling¡¯ slimes, that were actually incredibly toxic. The dog-type monster hunted everything else eating whatever died after it ate its crap. The dog-type monster was a hiding-type scavenger, too; you usually didn¡¯t see them and they didn¡¯t bother you unless you were paralyzed and almost dead.

    A few different monsters were to be killed on sight, or reported. Hookmouth Bunnies were to be exterminated in sight. Any flying monsters were to be killed or reported ASAP, depending on personal ability.

    Mark read it all and didn¡¯t absorb much of it, but it was still amazing to be out here and looking at everything like a real hero, able to exist out here in the wilds, and not straight-up die like any baseline would. Even brawnies couldn¡¯t come out here without other powers backing them up, or if they had a good Tactile Telekinesis. Mark had pulled back his caltrops and his black veins somewhat, and he was walking on his actual feet again, but he could deploy his Powers at a moment¡¯s notice. He was mostly safe out here, and that wasn¡¯t even mentioning his innate Power Level against pretty much everything; he could withstand mental monsters, pretty easily.

    And that felt pretty awesome.

    Some teams eyed Mark as he walked solo, but they mostly ignored him, now that he was this close to the city and not flying. All of them were talking about routes and distances to cover for the day and patrol arrangements, and all of them had black and yellow armbands on; they were busy.

    The gate loomed ahead.

    The gate to the city started off as a large staircase, a hundred meters wide and that much tall. The stairs were big, and meant to be fought on, if needed. The entrance looked kind of like a lava flow, seeing as it was so wide and so shallow of an incline.

    Mark walked up the stairs, to where 6 different doors, each 10 meters wide and tall, stood proud. Only 2 of the 6 doors were open, and those two doors were heavily guarded. People were stationed on the wall, at turrets up above, and at guard stations by the two open doors. They had some big guns. The guards by the doors checked IDs and asked questions of people coming back into the city, which seemed to be most people. It was maybe 3 hours to sunset, so it made sense that most people were going into the city, but this was a good time for the night guard to get a move on, so people were still leaving, out into the wilds. They¡¯d spend the night out there, too. Probably several nights.

    Mark looked around for someone wearing the silver armor of an Inquisitor, or maybe white robes, but he saw no one. Maybe only Freyalan Inquisitors dressed that way? The guards here all wore black with yellow accents, with steel breastplates with an embossed ¡®M¡¯ on the front.

    Mark got in line.

    He was the least dressed person in line, which was pretty weird and uncomfortable, but it was what it was, and Mark¡¯s Union sense was telling him weird things about what people were feeling as they looked at him, but he ignored those senses. Some people were distinctly worried about him, but no one wanted to kill him.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    A few people went from barely looking at Mark, to being suddenly very interested in him, but they refrained from acting on that interest. They had recognized him¡­ maybe. Two of those people took out their phones after looking at him. Mark tried not to think about that too much.

    The line went fast.

    Mark looked into the open gateway, down a long, stone tunnel, where people walked inward and no one walked outward. This was the entrance; the other gate was the exit. Some guards told people to walk further away from others. A sign to the side told everyone there that they had to walk into the city with at least 4 meters between them and the next person.

    It probably helped to keep out invisible monsters? Mark didn¡¯t know. Maybe they had scanners in the walls? They probably did.

    Soon, Mark was at the front of the line, facing a guard who sat behind thick glass, with a computer screen in front of him. There was no slit in the glass to speak through, but the guy had heard all the teams in front of Mark just fine.

    Mark opened his mouth¡ª

    ¡°Unknown man from the woods,¡± said the guard taking names, in a not-interested sort of voice. ¡°The City AI tagged you.¡± The guy gestured to the side, to the other closed doors to the city. ¡°Stand to the side please. Over there. A man in black and yellow will be with you shortly.¡±

    Mark nodded and stepped to the side, saying, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Soon, a hovercar appeared above the wall. It was an expensive-looking model, all solid white and sleek. It descended, past turrets and down the cliffside that was the wall, to land near the closed doors, only 30 meters away from Mark. The crowds watched as the doors to the hovercar opened and a pair of people stepped out.

    Oh my gods. Uncle Alexandro.

    Relief flooded Mark like a warm summer day, as Uncle Alexandro, Dad¡¯s brother, rushed out of the car, stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide as he looked at Mark, and then, with tears in his eyes, ran up to Mark to grab him in a hug. Mark hugged his uncle and he was crying, too. Alexandro looked almost exactly like Dad. Same height, which was shorter than Mark now, same kinda face. Darker hair and a meaner sort of build, because he was healer who had to actually use his body to get around, and not a kinetic¡ª

    There were so many things to talk about, and Mark didn¡¯t even know where to begin.

    But Mark managed to say, ¡°Hey, Uncle.¡±

    Alexandro held him tighter and then he let him go and stepped back, tears in his eyes as he said, ¡°Hey, Mark.¡± He chuckled. He smiled. He shook Mark¡¯s shoulders, then let go, saying, ¡°You got fucking BIG! We need to get you a shirt, though.¡±

    Mark felt all sorts of good as he chuckled, too. ¡°I thought I would have been colder, but it¡¯s not been that bad¡ª¡± Mark stopped suddenly. Mark turned a bit professional as he said, ¡°A lot has happened.¡± He looked past Alexandro, to the paladin standing behind him.

    The paladin was a woman, tall and lithe, with a silver breastplate and chainmail over robes. Her outfit seemed like it was more for looks than for function. Now that Mark was looking, Alexandro seemed to be wearing similarly professional, really nice clothes, though he wasn¡¯t wearing a breastplate or anything like that; just a nice shirt, slacks, and a jacket.

    Alexandro turned a bit professional, too. He wiped at his face as he sniffled and gestured to the woman, who stepped beside him. He said, ¡°Mark Careed, my nephew, this is Inquisitor Willow Turner, my new bodyguard from the Collective.¡±

    Mark stood up straighter. ¡°Oh! Hello!¡± Mark held out a hand. ¡°I heard Uncle switched bodyguards, or something?¡±

    Willow shook Mark¡¯s hand, smiling a little. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, and yes, your uncle did switch his guardians on the List. I¡¯m still adjusting, but I look forward to this posting.¡± She let go. ¡°I heard that you ran into some trouble getting here, and so I¡¯m your initial contact for whatever happened. I¡¯d like to hear the whole story, please, but not here. We can get in the car and go back.¡±

    Alexandro was a little mad for Mark as he asked Mark, ¡°Did some people really try to kill you? That¡¯s what the AI told Willow.¡±

    Mark had a lot of questions, like why was Uncle even here right now, and if Willow was allowed to take testimony or was that a conflict of interest¡­ There was a lot. But Mark just said, ¡°It¡¯s been a rough¡­ 6 hours? I¡¯m not sure. Addavein summoned me and then I was supposed to¡ª I¡¯ll tell the story in the car.¡±

    There were a lot of people out here, and Mark¡¯s Union sense was telling him that they were all looking his way, a lot.

    Willow had been about to interrupt, but then she just smiled gently, and did a little bow. Alexandro had something of a similar reaction, but he smiled a lot wider.

    Alexandro grabbed Mark in another hug, and Mark hugged him back, and soon they were walking to the car.

    It was a nice car, and soon the car lifted off, straight upward, Mark¡¯s Union sense twinging on absolutely everyone within sight. Some people were anxious. Some were curious. Some were jealous. There were other emotions in there that Mark could probably suss out if he wanted to, but he did not want to sense those emotions at all. None of them were ¡®kill kill kill¡¯, so Mark safely discarded them.

    Alexandro was full of love, and Willow was full of worry, and that was enough to know.

    Seated in a nice, plush seat, Mark asked the first question, ¡°You both look like you came from someplace expensive¡ª And holy shit! You¡¯re a True Healer, Uncle Alexandro! Why the heck are you 44 if you can de-age people?!¡±

    Alexandro chuckled, and then he laughed. ¡°We see each other for the first time in years, and that¡¯s the first question you ask?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a decent question!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with being 40-ish! People respect you at this age.¡±

    Willow accelerated the car into the sky and they crested the wall of Memphi, all 250 meters of it, and suddenly Mark saw the metropolis that was home to 45 million people.

    Memphi was a major city. Tier 4! Orange City was only tier 2. Those extra two tiers really showed, in the skyscrapers and raised trams and hovercar traffic everywhere. Green fields stretched in the distance, and smaller cities were out there, among the green hills and across from the wide, wide Mississippi River.

    Mark stared. It was all so much.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot to see out there, Mark.¡± There was hope in Alexandro¡¯s voice. ¡°If you want to stay. If you want to move here, permanently.¡±

    Mark easily, happily, said, ¡°I want to move here eventually, yeah. I don¡¯t think I can go back to Orange City.¡±

    Alexandro looked relieved. He grinned. He asked, ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°But I need to go back to Daihoon. I was going to do an expedition there, and¡­ There¡¯s a lot to talk about.¡± Mark looked at Willow, and asked, ¡°Can I tell you about the people who tried to kill me? Or is that a conflict of interests?¡±

    ¡°Though the actions of the humans are a concern, it is a lesser concern to the movements of Addavein, and that is where I would like to start.¡± Willow said, adding, ¡°This is being recorded by the Memphi City AI, for corroboration with COFR, just so you know.¡±

    Alexandro said, ¡°Wait wait! Here.¡± He opened up the back seat of the car and took out an extra shirt. And then he looked at Mark, and he paused. ¡°This is not going to fit you. Uh.¡± He went back into the back seat and grabbed a blanket. ¡°Here you go.¡±

    Mark smiled as he wrapped the blanket around himself. ¡°Thanks. I¡­ uh¡­ I ran into monsters and their prey and I salvaged clothes from dead people. The meeting with Addavein was kinda¡ª¡± They both looked at him with worried expressions. Mark rapidly added, ¡°I cleaned the clothes!¡±

    Alexandro blinked. And then he strongly said, ¡°That¡¯s not what I was worried about, Mark. I¡¯m worried about you. And if you¡¯re okay.¡± He turned to Willow and said, ¡°We can hold off on the interview for now.¡±

    ¡°No no no. Let¡¯s do this,¡± Mark said, as he held the blanket around him. ¡°I¡¯ve done fast interrogations before. This is fine. And yes, Addavein is a worldwide concern.¡±

    Alexandro was concerned. He said nothing.

    Willow waited.

    And Mark began, ¡°At something like noon, on Worldly Road, in Citadel Freyala, in France, I signed up for the Slayers, first, and then for the Villain role in the Hero/Villain Program. Somehow Addavein caught wind of the villain-thing not 5 minutes after I left the Crystal Tower building. So there I was, on Worldly Road, and I got a call from a restricted number¡­¡±

 087

    ¡°I¡¯m concerned, Gabriel,¡± Alexandro said, ¡°That kid has been through a lot, and I have no idea how to help him, or even if I should.¡±

    Alexandro was a True Healer, and one of the best. His Power was literally Age Manipulation, which put him right up there with the Biomorphers and even the few truly powerful Bio Manipulators that worked at Crystal Tower itself, making sure the big heroes survived everything that the world threw at them, and they also did cosmetic work to make the heroes truly beautiful for the cameras. Alexandro¡¯s niche was more for making old people young again.

    Even if he didn¡¯t have the full suite of moral dilemmas that the better True Healers had, his power had still affected his entire life in deep ways that he could only ever come to terms with.

    Who to heal? Who to let die?

    Every healing took 20 minutes of concentration. Based on the pure needs of the job, of which Alexandro was only shouldering a small fraction, he could still run himself ragged with 24-hour work days and never run out of work. So long ago, he had hardened his heart, for his own sanity. He had Gabriel, who made him laugh and feel loved, and he had a life outside of work, and he worked for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and that was enough.

    Mark had no idea what Alexandro¡¯s actual job or life was like until today. Until Curtain Protocol came down. Until after Markus and Donna had been murdered by a Falling archmage.

    Alexandro had seen his fair share of terrible stories due to work, but this past year, it felt like all the bad stories were striking home.

    It had been a lot.

    And now Mark was in one of the guest rooms of the estate, and the shower had been running for about an hour now. He was still alive, according to Gabriel. He was just¡­ sitting in the shower.

    He was in pain, and Alexandro could not help him more than he was already planning to help.

    Alexandro didn¡¯t blame Mark for crashing so hard, or even for sitting in the shower for an hour. When Alexandro had gotten the news of Addashield striking that hidden bunker with Markus and Donna¡­ Alexandro had been an absolute wreck for a month. He was still a wreck! He had always imagined that he would have forever with his brother, and his brother¡¯s wife.

    It still pissed Alexandro off all these years later that Dad had never taken advantage of his offer to heal him¡­

    Shit.

    Alexandro hadn¡¯t thought about Dad in a long time. He was still holding on to that anger, wasn¡¯t he. He was never going to get over that. Shit.

    Alexandro sat at the kitchen bar, drinking one of Gabriel¡¯s mojitos, as Gabriel made dinner in the kitchen. Alexandro finished off the mojito and the sparkling mint flavor tasted fantastic. It was a good distraction.

    Gabriel flipped a chicken breast on the grill, as he said, ¡°I could do a real reading on him, but I can already tell you that he needs rest. Direction. Time to heal.¡± Gabriel pointed at him with the spatula. ¡°Like you.¡±

    Alexandro frowned¡­

    And then he sighed, and said, ¡°We lied to him about so much, Gabriel. His parents made the decision to raise him as a Curtain Protocol fundamentalist, which was¡­ what it was. Shit. I¡¯m still mad about that, too. Shit, Gabriel!¡± And then Alexandro gestured at the house, saying, ¡°Mark thought we lived in that little cottage we bought to use specifically for his visits! Sussed that out real fucking fast once he saw this grandeur. I think that hurt him, too.¡±

    The cottage that Alexandro and Gabriel had pretended to live in for the family visits was just a guest house on the property. That place was a 1 story, 4 room house, which was currently empty. It was a nice enough house, and it had served well to keep Mark unaware of the nature of ¡®What Uncle Alexandro did for a living¡¯, and what a True Healer actually was. It always seemed like Too Much of a lie to do that, but Curtain Protocol had a bunch of protocols, and hiding money that was gained from Power usage was one of those protocols.

    This house, the real house, was a black, white, and marble edifice to strength, and Alexandro absolutely loved his real house. Three stories tall, set on 15 acres, this house had guards on the property and a great big pool out back and huge entertaining areas. This was a house that Alexandro and Gabriel would never grow old in, because when the two of them started hitting 50, then Alexandro would take them back to their 30s. Maybe 35; they hadn¡¯t made that decision yet. They hadn¡¯t really talked about that decision in years, either.

    ¡­ Should Alexandro bring up that conversation again?

    Shit.

    There was another spike of worry¡ª

    And then there was yet another spike of worry. Alexandro was rich as fuck. Mark had grown up poor as shit, because Markus and Donna wanted him to know the value of money, and Curtain Protocol. Alexandro had written off his inheritance from Dad when Dad died, even though Markus and Donna had wanted him to take his split of the fish tank profits, and they wanted to pay him off for his share of the house. But Alexandro had told them ¡®Absolutely not! I¡¯m rich. Take the property as your own¡¯. It was one of the ways in which Alexandro could support Mark without really supporting him.

    Alexandro had bought Mark a few expensive items over the years, too. Like his phones and computers, but he had bought them through Markus and Donna¡­ Which was another ¡®lie¡¯ that they had told his nephew. Alexandro was pretty sure Mark knew about that lie, so it wasn¡¯t one he needed to really address.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Gabriel shrugged. ¡°Kids know that parents lie to them. And if he did not know, then he is now aware. This is a lesson every kid learns growing up under Curtain Protocol¡­ and in most other sorts of lives, too.¡± Gabriel shrugged. He put burger buns on the grill, saying, ¡°I think Mark is a lot stronger than you are giving him credit for, Alex. He has to be, and so he is. Don¡¯t baby him. Respect him.¡±

    Alexandro rolled his eyes. ¡°So we¡¯ll ignore that he¡¯s been in the shower for an hour?¡±

    Gabriel nodded. ¡°Exactly. He¡¯s decompressing. Let him. And when he¡¯s ready to have these conversations, we can have these conversations.¡± And then he Looked at Alexandro, adding, ¡°You¡¯ve done nothing wrong, Alex.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve done everything wrong.¡±

    Gabriel hummed, and then he took Alexandro¡¯s empty drink, dumped the muddled mint and the ice into the sink grinder, and started making a new mojito. ¡°Have you, really?¡±

    Alexandro sighed. ¡°¡­ No.¡±

    Gabriel grinned, and he looked so beautiful when he grinned like that. ¡°Good! I Knew you were gonna be okay.¡±

    Alexandro grinned in return. ¡®I Knew you were gonna be okay¡¯ was pretty much Gabriel¡¯s catchphrase.

    Gabriel didn¡¯t have a Power, but he did have a Knowing about the people around him, and Alexandro was around Gabriel almost all the time. Gabriel would have been a great therapist if he had any desire at all to go to school and get the actual accreditation. Alexandro had done that for his Doctorate in Healing Magics, to get better with his own Power, but Gabriel never wanted to go into professional learning. He liked being a bartender, and a cook.

    Alexandro said, ¡°Shoulda been a therapist, Gabe.¡±

    Gabriel smiled brightly, wonderfully. ¡°I like my hours as a househusband, bartender, and cook, thank you very much.¡±

    Alexandro laughed. He smiled a bit. Gabriel joked; he was also a big time accountant. He loved numbers, which was pretty odd, since he had a Knowing for People. Alexandro always thought his choice of profession was kind of odd, but it was what it was, and Gabriel was happy.

    Gabriel changed the subject, asking, ¡°So what¡¯s the plan if Addavein shows up here?¡±

    All the wind dropped out of Alexandro¡¯s sails.

    It was such a big question. Neither of them had truly understood the severity of that question, because how could you deal with something like a ¡®new world order¡¯ possibly starting, and attaching itself to your family as a ¡®nephew¡¯?

    Alexandro said, ¡°All I know is that Addavein is not welcome here.¡±

    ¡°In line with normal operating procedure, then,¡± Gabriel said, as he handed Alexandro his next mojito. And then he asked, ¡°What about Mark moving in with us? That had been the plan.¡±

    Alexandro had a lot of mixed feelings about that topic. Before today, before hearing about Addavein summoning Mark, Alexandro wanted Mark to live here. They had a room all ready to go for him on the third floor, facing the south, the city. It was a nice room. Practically an apartment unto itself.

    But now...

    They had enough security concerns without housing Mark¡ª

    Alexandro felt terrible even as he had that thought. Was he really not willing to house Mark in his own home?

    Short answer: He wanted Mark here.

    But the longer answer¡­ Alexandro was already his own personal security concern. Over the course of his life, there had been no fewer than 28 attempts to kidnap him, and every single day at the office some client always brought up how they wanted this person or that person to get a treatment, too. Alexandro¡¯s client base was full, though, and he always wondered when his next denial-of-healing would result in another attempt on his life, or a kidnapping.

    So Alexandro wanted Mark to be here, but¡­

    Hmm.

    They could put him up in that guesthouse that Mark had visited, that he had thought was Alexandro and Gabriel¡¯s house? That place was pretty nice, and Mark was¡­ probably used to that place, more than this big house.

    Alexandro also had some properties in the center of Memphi, near downtown, that he gifted to guests for a month or two when they visited. Those places were bachelor pads, which would be great for someone Mark¡¯s age.

    But Mark wanted a team to explore the world with, and that necessitated a bigger house.

    ¡­ No.

    All of that was terrible.

    Alexandro backed away from that train of thought.

    Alexandro said, ¡°We¡¯re offering him the room here. I want him here. It¡¯ll be a security concern, I¡¯m sure, but I want him here.¡±

    Gabriel grinned. ¡°Good. Me, too.¡± And then Gabriel teased, ¡°So look at you, pulling the big strings with the city to go out and meet him at the gate! You thinking about not being a hermit anymore?¡±

    ¡°Oh gods no,¡± Alexandro said, laughing. ¡°That was all Willow. The call came in and she was right on it. She¡¯s trying to make good impressions, and she is wildly succeeding. And I think she¡¯s just plain more active than Carlotta ever was.¡±

    When Alexandro switched from Hearthswell oversight to Freyala oversight, for The True Healer List, there was a change of guard. Inquisitor Carlotta Sanchez of Hearthswell had been with Alexandro for 23 years, but she had been itching to see her grandkids grow up for a while and she simply wasn¡¯t equipped for the vast increase in Alexandro¡¯s kidnapping risk, now that Mark was talking to dragons.

    Carlotta took the retirement she had been thinking about for years now, got de-aged from 60 to 24, and Willow entered the house as Alexandro¡¯s primary guardian.

    Gabriel put cheese onto the chicken breasts and let it melt, saying, ¡°I heard from Carlotta this morning. Did I tell you?¡± Alexandro shook his head and Gabriel continued, ¡°She¡¯s doing great. The grandkids are in middle school now, and¡­¡±

    Gabriel spoke, and Alexandro loved to hear him speak.

    Mark would probably be out of the shower in a short while, Alexandro thought. Gabriel was making dinner for the three of them, and he usually timed these things perfectly, as long as the people he was cooking for were anywhere nearby. Gabriel was good about Knowing what people were up to, and what they needed.

 088

    Mark had sat under the barely-warm shower for a while. The tile was cool, the water was simply pleasant, and Mark had too many thoughts in his head. He shaped his adamantium into fish and swam them through the water droplets, and this time he could actually make the fish flex like they were swimming. His overall shaping was still crude, but he didn¡¯t need to use his fingers to make the adamantium into fish-shapes. He was learning; progressing.

    ¡°Not perfection, just progress,¡± Mark whispered to himself.

    Physical therapy seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had only been¡­ a few months?

    With casual flexes, Mark turned fish into caltrops. He tried to spin one caltrop really, really fast, and he managed to spin it faster than he had when he was in the woods, testing out his Shaping. But his speed was still ¡®tied¡¯ to his ¡®astral body muscles¡¯.

    Mark would need to break himself of that¡­ that whole thing, really. Maybe now he could, now that he was secure in a city again, and he wasn¡¯t in danger of meeting someone in the wilds that wanted to kill him.

    Mark could honestly say that with this whole Addashield business, and then with Addavein, and now with this murder attempt, that his opinion of humanity was at an all-time low.

    But he was glad that Uncle Alexandro had met him at the gate. Mark was really happy to see him, and Gabriel, too¡­

    But holy shit, this was not how he had expected Uncle Alexandro¡¯s house to be. Mark looked around at the primary bathroom yet again, at the big glass shower enclosure, at the massive tub sitting over there, with windows overlooking the pool outside, at the marble¡­ everything. They were rich as fuck.

    This was yet another mind fuck.

    Mark got up off of the shower floor, did a final wash with warm water, and then¡ª

    He smelled food. Good food.

    Uncle Gabriel was cooking again, then? Whatever it was, it smelled fantastic. Mark finished off his shower and dried off as he looked at himself in the big mirror in the bathroom. Firstly, the mirror itself was very large, and expensive looking. Maybe not actually-expensive, but it was certainly expensive in terms of real estate. The mirror was floor to ceiling and 3 meters wide.

    ¡°Rich,¡± Mark whispered to himself.

    Anyway! Mark¡¯s skin was a bit lighter, which was kinda weird. Shouldn¡¯t he have tanned, being out in the sun all day long? But he supposed a high Body would negate the need for the body to tan, and also he ¡®healed¡¯ himself all the time, so... is that how it worked? Mark didn¡¯t actually know. Seemed plausible. His eyes were more silver and black, too, which was¡­ something. Silver irises, shot through with black, with deep black pupils.

    Mark ignored his reflection.

    He grabbed a criminally soft white bathrobe off of a hanger and tried it on. It fit well. He wasn¡¯t going to wear it, though. Alexandro had given Mark some extra clothes that would probably fit him. Just some board shorts and a large tee shirt, and yeah, those fit well. It was nice to be able to wear something other than basic browns.

    Mark looked at himself in the mirror, wearing real clothes again¡­

    He wiped away a tear, breathed deep, and left the bathroom.

    Dinner was delicious, and also a confusing mess of stories and plans and a bunch of other things tossed around and talked about, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure what was happening at the end of it all, but he did know one thing. Maybe two things. Gabriel could cook really well, and Mark had said as much, but also...

    ¡°I¡¯m going back to Citadel, Uncle,¡± Mark said, with a clean plate sitting in front of him. ¡°And then it¡¯s on to a settlement expedition on Daihoon.¡±

    And Mark didn¡¯t want to live in this too-fancy house, anyway. He had told them that once, but he didn¡¯t want to harp on it.

    Alexandro nodded, saying, ¡°Okay okay. A young man has to go out and make his mark on the world. I get it. And you don¡¯t want to live here with your boring uncles anyway. So how about the cottage?¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°The one you guys pretended to live in?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the one!¡± Alexandro said, shamelessly and with a bit of a grin.

    Mark was about to turn them down¡ª

    But Gabriel said, ¡°We¡¯re signing something over to you, because we need you to know that you will always have a home here. You are wanted. Even if you go back out into the world, you have a place to come back to. Always. We¡¯ll have the housekeepers keep it up for you and pay the land taxes and all of that junk, but it¡¯ll be yours, Mark.¡±

    Mark felt tight in the chest. Happy, in a nice sort of way.

    Alexandro added, ¡°Or there¡¯s the room upstairs!¡±

    Mark chuckled. In a small way, he said, ¡°I¡¯m going on that expedition, but¡­ I do want to have a home here¡­ if you¡¯ll... have me¡­¡± Mark was about to say something about the danger of Addavein, but he choked up. He wanted to be here, with family, for at least a little while.

    Alexandro grinned wide. And then he got up from his chair and grabbed Mark into a hug, saying, ¡°We love you, Mark.¡±

    Mark sobbed a little, and then Uncle Gabriel was there, too, hugging him, also saying nice words, and Mark almost felt home again. He started sobbing and then Alexandro started crying, and someone said something about how Markus and Donna would be happy Mark was here, and the night kinda went on from there.

    Mark found out that Uncle Gabriel was a very good bartender, and that Gabriel and Alexander were pretty much hermits, but they wanted to show Memphi off to Mark, if he wanted. And yeah, Mark did want to see the city. This weekend, though. Alexandro still had work; so much work. Gabriel had work, too.

    As they sat around a table on the deck, drinking drinks, Mark said, ¡°So tomorrow I have on my own¡­ I want to know what is happening with that almost-murder in the wilds. How can I keep tabs on that?¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°Inquisitor Willow will know more in the morning, I am sure. She¡¯s only been in the house for about 40 days, but she¡¯s on the ball about everything. If not her then some of the others.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Mark suddenly remembered a lot of little things. From a woman named Carlotta that used to live with his uncles, who had to have been their previous Inquisitor bodyguard, to how they had switched over to Freyala on the List. Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Oh my gods! You¡¯re on The List, Uncle Alexandro!¡± He instantly said, ¡°You¡¯ve probably seen some crazy personal-attack shit, too, haven¡¯t you.¡±

    Alexandro happily said, ¡°I¡¯m up to around 28 kidnapping attempts, which is why I¡¯m a bit of a hermit. Maybe 32, if you count credible incidents that went nowhere, when the kidnappers decided not to kidnap.¡±

    Mark felt unmoored. He had not expected¡­ that. Mark whispered, ¡°Why would people do that¡­?¡±

    Alexandro had a fast answer, ¡°Because sometimes people get desperate, and a lot of the most desperate people in the world are those who are running out of resources, be those resources money, time, or anything else, really. I see people who run out of everything, all the time, Mark. My Power is Age Manipulation.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. And then he frowned. ¡°I have this Union sense that lets me know what people are pointed toward sometimes, when I focus. Those people who tried to kill me were greedy. That¡¯s it. Not needy. Not desperate. I¡¯m still figuring out this sense, but I¡¯m pretty sure those guys were just greedy¡­¡± Mark had a few more complicated emotions. ¡°Is it greedy to want more time alive? Oh, shit. I never thought about that.¡±

    And he hadn¡¯t. New thoughts all around.

    Alexandro grinned a little bit; strained.

    Gabriel said, ¡°Those people you met could have been Thrashtalon cultists. Could be demon contractors. Those are outsized possibilities, though. I¡¯d think they would just have been greedy. Most people are. Greed is a rather normal thing for most people to feel, and those scanners for wealth usually have upper bounds. Those people probably saw their scanners peak and then snap and break, and that would mean literal millions of goldleaf. Of course they tried something. Murder, though? That¡¯s too much. Fuck those people and I hope they die to monsters.¡±

    Mark was conflicted in a way he never knew he could be conflicted.

    And so, he just started laughing.

    Alexandro chuckled.

    Gabriel grinned.

    Mark laughed even as he exclaimed, ¡°Oh my gods Uncle Gabriel! You can¡¯t say that!¡±

    Alexandro guffawed.

    Gabriel chuckled, saying, ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to learn how to say crazy shit, too, Mark, what with being a Villain and all.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be such a terrible villain,¡± Mark suddenly admitted.

    Alexandro laughed largely, saying, ¡°I can imagine it now! Mark on Weekly Showdown, talking about how people shouldn¡¯t hurt other people, so ¡®could you kindly all step aside while I rob this bank, please?¡¯!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Villains are all hypocrites and robbing a bank is at least two layers of hypocritical...ness? Hypocriticalness, sure.¡±

    Gabriel grinned as he tilted his glass in his hand, the ice tinking. ¡°As a villain, your words are only good for distracting the enemy. Think of it like that, and less like you¡¯re trying to make sense.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how you do it,¡± Alexandro said, agreeing.

    ¡°Oh gods, that¡¯s terrible!¡± Mark said¡ª And then he gasped. ¡°You two watch the supervillain shows, don¡¯t you!¡±

    ¡°Of course we do!¡± Alexandro said. ¡°I have to have something to talk with the clients about.¡±

    Gabriel rolled his eyes. ¡°Your uncle plays it off, but he¡¯s a total nerd. Want to see the nerd cave? We have action figures!¡±

    Mark laughed.

    He ended up seeing the nerd cave and getting a tour of the whole house.

    It was nice.

    Eventually, Mark went to bed in a bed that was meant to be his, if he wanted it. And he did.

    It was a great end to a stressful day.

    - - - -

    Mark woke to sunlight spilling across the room, beyond the foot of his bed.

    He stretched, his adamantium drops rolling through the air, and he breathed deep. In with the good, out with the bad. Black miasma flowed from his mouth, threading into the world, and Mark woke up all the way.

    He sat at his bed for a while, categorizing what he needed to do for the day.

    Citadel Freyala had been alerted to Mark¡¯s return yesterday, thanks to Inquisitor Willow and the City AI of Memphi, which was really the Mayor of Memphi. Mark had heard something about that earlier, but he had forgotten, so he needed to check up on that. He needed to book passage back to Citadel Freyala, eventually, because the expedition to Daihoon was probably going to leave from there¡­ But probably not for a while? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. He needed to make calls.

    Which meant he needed a new phone.

    Which was priority number one. New phone. New gear. See if his personal AI Quark survived, or not. They usually did, right? Quark wasn¡¯t a real, living AI. He was an offshoot of COFR, so he probably got backed up, along with all of the videos that Mom and Dad had left him, and the family movies. The letters were back in his room at Citadel, which was¡­ probably fine? Yeah, probably.

    So a phone.

    And then Mark wanted to make calls, and check on whatever was going on with the killers out north of Memphi. They probably wouldn¡¯t let him know about the investigation¡­ or at least cops didn¡¯t let you know about ongoing investigations. Did Inquisitors let you know?

    ¡­ Were the Inquisitors even on this case? Seemed like the local cops should be on the case.

    Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Killers were big deals. Humanity didn¡¯t harm humanity; not directly like that. It was anathema to the continued existence of humanity to do shit like that. It was humans against monsters, and things had been steadily improving for both Earth and Daihoon for decades since the Reveal, since that mana apocalypse, but it was still humans against monsters.

    Back in the Reveal, the sea level had risen 23 meters, kaiju turned out to be real, and monsters and magic fucked everything up. And then there was World War 3 and then World War Not, which was only averted from a full scale horror show by one man who murdered 4 world leaders and over 250 staff, or something like that. That man, General Alexander Volkov, then went on to become the God of War and Murder, Drakarok.

    ¡­ Whom Sally was acolyte¡¯d to.

    Mark needed to call Sally again. Would she still want to party with him, now that he was officially the ¡®brother¡¯ of Addashield? Mark needed to call Eliot and Isoko, too, or maybe they had tried to call him? Either way, Mark needed to check.

    Anyway.

    Humanity survived because humanity helped humanity.

    That was why Basic Income existed, and why a person, any person at all, could live and function in this world, even if they did nothing at all. Of course, that put a person in basic browns and in basic housing, and sure, people stole from each other, and small crimes happened all the time. But murder? Murder for profit?

    Mark still boggled at that.

    ¡­ Mark got up and told himself, ¡°Phones, then check on the investigation, and then all the rest.¡±

    After taking a brief morning shower and then purifying himself so he didn¡¯t have to use the bathroom ¡ªMark didn¡¯t think he would ever get tired of not having to use the bathroom¡ª Mark put on clothes that fit him well, which Uncle Alexandro had gotten in a drone airdrop last night. The fabrics were soft, nice, and clean, and they weren¡¯t basic brown.

    Mark loved it.

 089

    Mark walked downstairs, and then downstairs again to the first floor, because this was a three story (and a basement!) house. Gabriel was working on a computer at the kitchen table, near giant windows that oversaw a pool area and the forested land beyond. Mark was pretty sure there were farms out there beyond the property line. He remembered Shady Acres being a farming community, and this was still Shady Acres.

    Gabriel saw Mark put aside some papers, saying, ¡°Hey, kiddo! Alex went to work already, but he¡¯ll take a half day off when you want to go into the city. You want breakfast? There¡¯s frozen breads in the freezer, or I can make you an omelet. Or you can cook for yourself.¡±

    Mark smiled and asked, ¡°Do you got cereal?¡±

    When Mark was a kid, he had marveled at how the only cereals that Alexandro and Gabriel had in the house were a bunch of sugar-blasted fruity things, which Mom had decried as ¡®terrible for your health!¡¯ but Mark had loved those weird, fruity flavors. It had been more than one small fight when Mark had snuck those cereal boxes back home, to Orange City.

    Gabriel chuckled, probably thinking the same thing. ¡°We do. That cupboard right¡ª Yup, you got it.¡±

    Mark looked at ten clear plastic containers of different colorful cereals. He picked the one that had bright red and white stuff inside and poured himself a bowl, as he asked, ¡°I do want to see what Uncle Alexandro¡¯s work is like, now that I can actually go there, but¡­ There¡¯s a lot I need to do. You guys offered to help last night?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely! What do you want? I assume electronics.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Yes. Thank you. I need a phone again. Those things break way too often.¡±

    ¡°This is a tier 4 city. Phones are part of Basic Income. So that doesn¡¯t actually cost you anything, if you want to become a citizen.¡±

    Mark breathed in deep. Ah. This conversation, then. Mark poured milk into the cereal, thinking, as he walked over and sat down across from Gabriel. There was a lot of room for Mark, even with Gabriel taking up a desk¡¯s worth of space¡­ And then Mark looked at the table again, while he was sitting at it.

    ¡°This is the breakfast table, right?¡±

    Gabriel laughed. ¡°Yeah. Don¡¯t mind me. Eat!¡±

    Mark felt a little embarrassed, for this was Gabriel¡¯s house, but he banished that emotion and seriously asked, ¡°Do you two actually want me here? No sugar coating it, please.¡±

    Gabriel turned serious. He said, ¡°It¡¯ll be difficult, Mark. You¡¯re high profile, and there¡¯s a certain amount of inherent danger in your very presence in this city, in our lives. But not much more. And maybe even less danger, if you get down to it. Inquisitor Willow has already asked if you¡¯re staying, because she wants you here, too, because having someone of your power in Memphi, in our lives, makes both me and Alexandro safer. We¡¯re just two guys, you know? Baseline-normal people. But Alexandro has Age Manipulation, and that makes him an easy target.

    ¡°So, in all honesty, best case scenario ¡ªand the most likely¡ª is that you¡¯re here, all supervillain-strength, and that dragon is in our lives a little, but life continues on more or less as it always has. We expect some sort of crossfire and shit to happen, but we already have a lot of protection on top of you, so don¡¯t think that you actually need to protect us.

    ¡°But having you here is a good deterrent.

    ¡°And you¡¯re going to be a hero anyway, even if they do label you as a villain. We like heroes. Your uncle and I are both total nerds, so maybe we¡¯ll get to rub elbows with people we watch on the television without them hitting us up for age treatments. They will hit you up for that all the time, though. Be aware that that will happen if you live here.

    ¡°The worst case scenario is something that the entire world will have to contend with, and not something anyone is eager to have happen at all. So they¡¯ll make concessions to the dragon, and¡­ And it¡¯s a whole big thing. We¡¯re fine with that risk, Mark.

    ¡°So to put it shortly, we want you here, Mark.¡± Gabriel added, ¡°And if you want to be here, you should talk to a whole bunch of people who are in charge, because that¡¯s the level that everyone expects you to act on, eventually. There¡¯s Emilia Ramirez, the Mayor of Memphi. To simplify her, she¡¯s a Technopath, with the City AI as her larger self. She¡¯ll want a face to face meeting with you soon, if you choose to do anything other than visit. Then there¡¯s Kraigen Steele, the leader of the Hero¡¯s Association¡­¡± Gabriel paused.

    Mark had been nodding, thankful that Gabriel was giving it to him straight, as he ate his cereal. Gabriel always had a more level head on his shoulders than Alexandro, so Mark was glad that he was able to speak with him alone. All of those concerns were real concerns, too. When Gabriel mentioned Mark being a hero, even with the ¡®villain¡¯ tag, Mark felt happy.

    He was great with meeting some high-powered people, and the red and white cereal was pretty great. Better than Mark remembered, but completely unsuitable for a breakfast food¡­ probably. Or maybe that was just Mom talking.

    But then Gabriel looked at Mark, studied him for a moment, and continued, ¡°And Archmage Blackthorn, of course.¡±

    Mark blanked. His spoon dropped into his bowl.

    A moment passed.

    Gabriel studied Mark.

    Mark made a decision. ¡°I can¡­ I can¡­¡± He made a more solid decision, saying, ¡°Sure! I can meet¡­ Uh. Blackthorn¡ª I have to?¡±

    ¡°You would need to meet him, yes. Eventually. Blackthorn is part of the defense of the city, and you want to be that sort of person, so you will eventually run in the same sort of circles. I¡¯ve met him before. He¡¯s an okay guy. His demon demands he has lots of sex and lots of drugs, which is what Blackthorn wanted, and got, so he¡¯s a pretty chill guy most of the time. I checked with Inquisitor Willow this morning about him, and she told me that Blackthorn¡¯s oversight told her that Blackthorn is perfectly in line with his Contract, and is in no danger of Falling at all. He has over 25 years of Contract fulfillment banked, so he¡¯d need to go cold sober for a quarter century in order to be at risk of Falling. And that¡¯s not going to happen.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay!¡± Mark said, and he wasn¡¯t sure why he had said it so enthusiastically. ¡°That¡¯s! That¡¯s a thing.¡±

    ¡°You still want to go to Daihoon though, yes? And you¡¯re not actually qualified to stand on those stages yet, so those meetings don¡¯t have to happen for years.¡± With a strong look to him, Gabriel continued, ¡°But they would have to happen, eventually.¡±

    Mark steeled himself, because yeah. He wanted this. He wanted this responsibility, this capability, and so, he would walk this path. He said, ¡°I get it. Eventually. For now, a phone would be nice, and then an update on the thing with the killers outside the city.¡±

    Gabriel grinned just a little. ¡°Sure.¡± And then he gestured toward the archway to the main living room. ¡°I took the liberty of ordering you a bunch of electronics this morning. You got a phone, a laptop, and some other junk in there to set up. There¡¯s also a standard-sized webweave underarmor in there. It might not fit, so you should try it on. Alexandro is looking forward to helping you come up with an actual costume on top of the webweave eventually, and so am I. And for now~¡± Gabriel spoke to the air, ¡°Bert. Please categorize Mark as a guest user.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide¡ª

    The lights brightened a little bit, and a House AI spoke up with a pleasant, male voice, ¡°Yes, Gabriel.¡± The AI, Bert, added, ¡°As a guest, I should inform you, Mark, that Citadel of Freyala Resources has contacted me about your Personal AI, Quark. Quark is waiting for you to open up a new phone and to join with that phone, along with all of your personal data.¡±

    Mark smiled, ¡°Thank you, Bert!¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°He¡¯s not a living AI.¡± He asked, ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had a Personal AI?¡±

    ¡°For all of an hour, and then Addavein moved around in the air above me and everything kinda broke and went flying. Landing in the river truly broke the personal AI, though.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yeah. You said that yesterday¡ª Well I¡¯m glad you have one! That nixes one of the suggestions I was going to make tomorrow.¡± Gabriel added, ¡°Well finish your breakfast and go open your presents!¡±

    Mark chuckled, saying, ¡°Like Christmas again!¡±

    Gabriel got a nice, small smile. ¡°Yup~¡±

    ¡­ Which made Mark wonder why his uncles were never allowed to truly visit, or help the family out when Mark got coma¡¯d, but then he remembered Curtain Protocol, and how Mom and Dad had probably had a long argument about accepting help, or maybe his uncles had withheld help, because they knew Mark would start to wonder where the rich stuff was coming from and then break Curtain Protocol, or something¡­ But there was all that help, actually, during Mark¡¯s coma. The nurse, the machines. Some of it was basic care, but truly basic care would have had Mark in a hospital, and not at home, right?

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Mark said, ¡°I just now realized that you guys have been helping me financially my whole life. I know that you guys slipped me new phones every year, but... Thank you.¡±

    Gabriel smiled a little, then said, ¡°The finances of the family between your uncle and your father, and a little bit your mother, is a very complicated topic. You¡¯re old enough to know all of it, if you want. I can only give you a small breakdown, though. Do you want to know some of it?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Mark sat back down. ¡°Not everything, obviously, but¡­ some of it.¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°Your grandfather didn¡¯t want to take Alexandro¡¯s Age Regression at all, ever, and then he passed, and everything kinda solidified along those lines, with Markus and Donna being strongly independent, and them wanting to raise you that way, too. Alexandro and I were hoping that maybe when you were in your 30s that we could eventually convince Markus and Donna to de-age with me and Alexandro. Maybe move out here, too. Donna was close to accepting, but¡­ But fishing was something Markus truly loved. He was never going to give that up.¡± Gabriel added, ¡°But we helped when we could, anyway. We were actually looking into buying some fishing tanks here in Memphi and luring Markus that way. Never panned out. We did manage to help pay for a lot of things back in Orange City, though. The last thing we did was help get you that in-home coma care. Otherwise you would have been in a hospital. It was a fight to get them to accept that money, but it was a fight we actually won for once. I had no idea that Color Drop treatments existed, though. We looked into those costs later, and we simply got told we couldn¡¯t afford it.¡±

    Mark felt tears threaten again.

    He got up and hugged Uncle Gabriel, saying, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Gabriel hugged him back, holding him tight, saying, ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Mark.¡± He patted Mark on the back, saying, ¡°Now go try out your webweave! It¡¯s Power Level 10. Cheap stuff but a good starter set to wear under your real clothes.¡± He added, ¡°And eventually a costume!¡±

    Mark chuckled and pulled back to see a few tears on Gabriel¡¯s face. Mark wiped away his own tears and nodded.

    And then he went to the living room.

    A big white box waited for him on the couch.

    Mark ripped it open and unearthed a brand new phone and a laptop, both sleek silver and glass, but made of tier 0 materials. They wouldn¡¯t survive much real battle, but they would survive most normal wear and tear for a good while. Mark plugged them in and soon he got to personalizing them with some help from the House AI, Bert. Within minutes, both machines flickered gold with a distant COFR connection, and then silver, as Quark rematerialized on his personal devices.

    Mark smiled at his phone. ¡°Welcome back, Quark. Sorry for getting you killed.¡±

    ¡°COFR has my base programming and I am not a living being, so I cannot be killed.¡± Quark added, ¡°You have high-priority messages waiting for you from Inquisitor Lola Turner and Inquisitor David Turner, along with normal-priority messages from Eliot Cybersong and Isoko Kanno. I will play the priority messages now.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡± Lola¡¯s voice cracked, and then she easily said, ¡°I have heard you were kidnapped and then sent back to Earth, and then set upon by bandits, of all the Freyala-damned things. I am glad you are okay. We will resume lessons when you return to Citadel. I will begin to instruct you in the ways in which it is lawful and wise to kill people for their transgressions against humanity, or when to haul them in for judgment by a city. It is a bit early for those particular lessons, but you need to know them, since, with your adamantium Shaping, you will be able to haul people around goodly distances just fine. I look forward to your return.¡±

    Mark was wide-eyed at that dangerous message, but he felt the love therein, and he was grateful for Lola. Lola was a good person but she surely had some rough edges.

    David¡¯s message played next.

    ¡°I will leave discussion of Addavein to other parties,¡± David said, ¡°But as for the bandits you encountered, I believe Lola has some lessons planned for you. Those lessons might be too early, but they¡¯re crucial to learn. Personally, I let all criminality go, except for the criminality that you experienced. I would have brought those people into Memphi or to the nearest guard tower to request a pickup. That¡¯s me as an Inquisitor, though; I have that executive power. Perhaps you need to get involved with the cops at Memphi, though; I do not know how they split power over there.

    ¡°If the bandits were of Thrashtalon, or demon-touched and outside of parameters, then that¡¯s a strict execution; no court necessary.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably difficult to hear, but you need to hear it. I¡¯ve heard that there¡¯s an Inquisitor Layfair on that case against the bandits. I don¡¯t know him, but if you want to pursue that case and see what goes on there, then look him up at Collective Temple there in Memphi. Other than that, I think that settlement expedition you were going for might be a few months before it starts. You have lots of time to get back here, so take some time with your family. I¡¯ll see you later, Mark. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡±

    ¡­ Mark had a moment.

    Most of that message was nice, but...

    ¡°Those guidelines for execution make sense¡­ but fucking hell. This shit is supposed to happen on television, not real life¡­ but I guess it¡¯s already happened to me. Fuck.¡±

    Mark clicked through the phone to get to the other messages.

    Eliot had written a long text message that started on part 1 and went all the way to part 36.

    Mark set that aside for a moment and clicked on Isoko¡¯s text.

    ¡®Congrats on becoming a villain! A ¡®battle¡¯ with your ¡®hero¡¯ ¡®brother¡¯ is a great first foray into the realm of villainy, or at least that¡¯s what grandma tells me. News of that is all over the world right now. Glad you¡¯re okay. COFR has a chat server for people in groups, <u>so come join Eliot and I</u>. Eliot is freaking out about a lot, because now people are telling him that Addavein is going to be harrying him and me and everyone near you for the rest of your life. I¡¯m fine with this, by the way. I¡¯m gonna be a villain, too, so we can be villains together! Join the chat server!¡¯

    A chat server?

    Mark almost clicked the link, but that would involve a lot of talking and Mark had other things to do right now. He almost circled back to Eliot¡¯s message¡­ But again, same problem.

    He went through his new clothes.

    Ten minutes later and Mark was wearing skin-tight black webweave that made him blush as he looked in the mirror. But, he supposed, it was ¡®underwear¡¯, so this was fine. Mark took it back off and then he put on some other normal clothes. Blue jeans and a t-shirt looked good on him, and he was happy to wear them.

    ¡°Am I really going to be wearing that webweave? In public?¡± Mark mumbled to himself as he put his clothes away in his room on the third floor. ¡°No, right? I mean¡­¡± Mark breathed out as he realized something. He grinned. ¡°Costumes go over the webweave! Right.¡±

    Crisis averted!

    Mark plopped down on his bed and started reading Eliot¡¯s 36-part text, instantly thinking that he probably composed it with Man-made Manipulation, and that there wasn¡¯t anything here besides worries. Mark was proven wrong after the first few sentences.

    ¡®Glad you¡¯re back and you survived your brother. Knew you could do it!

    ¡®I want you as a Heavy in my team going forward. That means superhero-level power, Mark. Such a request comes with various offers, powers, and responsibilities. As such, I want you to know the current, brief rundown of all of the current offers on the table, and I want your help making decisions.

    ¡®To start with, there¡¯s the idea of setting up near one of the poles, so that we can constantly have trade with Earth. Trade is a big deal, and is a primary motivating factor on where to start a settlement and new major city.

    ¡®We could also do a partnership with a current city on Earth, and become their Twin City on Daihoon, opening up a semi-permanent portal between our two worlds, allowing trade to flow this way and that. A lot of cities are asking for this, but not many of them are able to fulfill the HEAVY REQUIREMENTS for a permanent portal setup. Only two places have permanent portals on Earth; Crystal Tower, and a completely undefended portal that they let blow up all the time in the Sahara. Permanent portals attract kaiju, after all.

    ¡®So to have a permanent portal city, we need:

    ¡®Archmage(s), at least 5 full kaiju-level teams on BOTH SIDES of the rift, a full assortment of support staff, numbering in the thousands, for just the kaiju teams alone. And then we need 10,000 people for various city functions, like food and such. Semi-permanent portals are only open once every week, or so, and everyone is on high alert every time, because if a kaiju doesn¡¯t come running, then every monster within a hundred miles will, and...¡¯

    Mark read for a while, his mind swirling with ideas.

    Eliot was enamored with the idea of making a semi-permanent portal between Daihoon and Earth inside of a city, and Mark thought it was a pretty neat idea, too.

    Mark read it all a few times, and then he clicked the link in Isoko¡¯s message¡ª

    A whole new app opened up, called ¡®Accord¡¯.

    Right away there was a warning about Curtain Protocol, and that this was Open Social Media.

    ¡®Accord is not responsible for people developing any mana inclinations at all¡­¡¯ and yadda yadda, click this click that, yes yes, agree agree...

    Mark took a few minutes to fill stuff out, and then he eventually figured out that he needed to click Isoko¡¯s link again, and that¡¯s what allowed him to join COFR¡¯s chat server, or more specifically, Isoko and Eliot¡¯s private chat group, which was the only private group open to him. There were, according to the number on the screen, 18,207 private chat groups. Mark could only see one of them. The public chat groups were¡­ not something Mark was interested in, at all. But he might look at them eventually. He saw chat groups for general partnering for training missions, new user introductions, general chat, movies, books, a whole bunch of stuff, really. Mark ignored all of that.

    Inside the private group chat there were lots of messages from Isoko and Eliot, but Mark wasn¡¯t going to read them, yet. There were over 600 messages! He did check the earliest message, though, and it was dated yesterday.

    Mark smiled at that. The group had only been open for a day. Maybe Mark would read the other ones, eventually.

    He felt included, even if he hadn¡¯t been able to be there in the beginning.

    Mark started typing.

 090

    VeryHuman (Today:8:28AM): Is that Mark typing?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:28AM): I think it is!

    VeryHuman (Today:8:28AM): Come on, type faster!

    MarkC (Today:8:28AM): They¡¯re pushing you to make a permanent twin city, eh, Eliot?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:29AM): MARK!

    VeryHuman (Today:8:29AM): You¡¯re okay! Yes! And I want to! Did you read the other chats?

    HimePink (Today:8:29AM): You went with ¡®MarkC¡¯ for a handle, huh?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:30AM): Did you read the other chats! No wait, of course you didn¡¯t, there¡¯s too much. LISTEN UP! They¡¯re throwing me into an interview with Freyalan Holy Mother Julia Garin and Hearthswell Holy Father Rafael Pardo in 2 hours. I NEED TO KNOW IF YOU¡¯RE IN MY CITY, MARK. We are fine with dealing with Addavein! But this question needs to be answered now, and for at least the next 5 years.

    VeryHuman (Today:8:30AM): I¡¯m vaguely sorry about the pressure, but not really. I¡¯m under a lot of pressure, too. Share in the pressure with me, Mark.

    VeryHuman (Today:8:30AM): Isoko already agreed to be a solid YES, and I need the same from you.

    HimePink (Today:8:32AM): He¡¯s so wound up. The majority of all of this shit isn¡¯t even going to be us. It¡¯s going to be, like, 10 different noble houses. We¡¯re soldiers and pieces to be moved on a board.

    MarkC (Today:8:37AM): I am pretty sure I am a ¡®yes¡¯, but I need to ask questions. What is the nature of my role in this upcoming expedition? Or, more importantly, when is this going to happen? How long before it happens?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:38AM): You¡¯ll be in the group of monster killers, working under some person who works under the general for the settlement expedition. So three layers from the top. This is one layer above most nobles in the expedition. It goes General ¡ú Seconds in Command ¡ú Forces of the Seconds (We are here) ¡ú Civilian Leaders ¡ú Civilians. You¡¯re in third place, along with me and Isoko and most violent people. You, specifically, would be responsible for big monster kills, and you¡¯ll probably be working under some kaiju-killing-type people, who are the Seconds in Command. You¡¯ll be support for those bigger people; not actually tasked with killing kaiju yourself, but you¡¯ll be expected to get experience in that direction.

    VeryHuman (Today:8:38AM): What else do you need to know? I don¡¯t know specific names yet. I think the Valen Family, which is a big noble family with interests all across Daihoon, is going to be heavily involved in this settlement, but we¡¯re not sure yet.

    VeryHuman (Today:8:39AM): This is going to happen in 2 months from now. That seems to be the timetable for organization. Could be shorter. Could be longer.

    MarkC (Today:8:45AM): I¡¯m giving you my official ¡®Yes¡¯. I¡¯ll be in Memphi for a little while, and then be back in Citadel soonish, or something. Please keep me apprised of big events.

    VeryHuman (Today:8:45AM): YES!!! WOOOOOO!!!

    VeryHuman (Today:8:45AM): Awesome! Yes! I¡¯ll keep you apprised!

    HimePink (Today:8:46AM): Glad to have you, Mark! Now what¡¯s this I hear about bandits?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:46AM): Bandits?! The fuck?! You got robbed?

    MarkC (Today:8:47AM): It was a thing. So you heard Addavein summoned me, yeah?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:47AM): How did that happen, tho? Like. Physically, magically, how? Can you prevent it from happening again?

    HimePink (Today:8:48AM): I don¡¯t think he can, Mark?

    HimePink (Today:8:48AM): Like, prevent it

    HimePink (Today:8:48AM): I mean

    MarkC (Today:8:52AM) I have no idea about any of that. You¡¯ve heard more than me?

    VeryHuman (Today:8:53AM): Isoko heard more than me. All I heard was rumors.

    HimePink (Today:8:55AM): I heard from Grandmother and Crystal Tower that you dedicated yourself to him as his brother, which has caused a metaphysical tether which allows certain magics to function, and summoning and banishing are some of the magics he can do to you now. I think you have to sever that tie to break that connection, but don¡¯t quote me on that. It¡¯s all rumors, and tied behind magical learning, of which I have no connections toward. I don¡¯t know anything about magic. Grandma says your eyes and hair color are heavy indicators that you¡¯re tied to him, and he¡¯s tied to you.

    HimePink (Today:8:55AM): Tell us what happened!

    - -

    Mark lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking.

    He decided to ignore ¡®summoning magic¡¯ for now. He¡¯d ask around about that later. Chances were that Inquisitor Willow or someone wanted to talk to him about that very thing. Lola and David wanted to talk, too, and that topic would probably come up as well.

    But for now, Mark grounded himself, chatting with Isoko and Eliot about his own unexpected trip to Daihoon¡­

    Er.

    Mostly grounded himself.

    - -

    VeryHuman (Today:9:37AM): I still can¡¯t believe some people would be stupid enough to attack you. There you are, floating nude on black metal, scanners going wild with ¡®MONEY MONEY MONEY!¡¯, black veins echoing out of your body and air, and you casually dropping that you have a True Healer for an uncle ¡ªI¡¯m letting you know now that my family is going to try and hit you up for access¡ª and they still tried to attack you. It is INSANE that they went for it.

    MarkC (Today:9:38AM): I had on shorts and a backpack! I wasn¡¯t nude!

    VeryHuman (Today:9:38AM): Sure. Let¡¯s focus on that part.

    VeryHuman (Today:9:38AM): But seriously, though. I¡¯m telling people you were nude. It¡¯s a better story that way.

    VeryHuman (Today:9:38AM): (I will not tell people this particular lie)

    HimePink (Today:9:39AM): Not that insane. They already attacked him. They had no idea how Mark would have reacted outside of Mind Control. So they went for it. People sometimes come out of Mind Control all sorts of fucked up. Union helped to keep Mark on an even level, though.

    HimePink (Today:9:40AM): Type with your damned hands, Eliot. I can¡¯t keep up with your text speed.

    VeryHuman (Today:9:40AM): I am typing with my hands. ;)

    MarkC (Today:9:41AM): I don¡¯t believe that for a damned second.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    HimePink (Today:9:42AM): Anyway. Fuck those fuckers. Limb restoration is cheap magics for a tier 4 city. They probably have dedicated healers for that sort of stuff.

    MarkC (Today:9:44AM): Is it cheap? Limb restoration was hard in Orange City. One of my Dad¡¯s employees was put up on a wait list until we got upgraded to First Citizens and could get him into a limb restorer, or whatever it was. I never found out fully.

    HimePink (Today:9:45AM): Tokyo is a Tier 10 city and they can deal with pretty much any medical thing, except for True Healer magics. Those people are always in demand. Tier 4 should be able to deal with limb restoration, and easily. IIRC, Orange City is Tier 2, right? So they probably do have a hard time getting healers for the more difficult magics.

    HimePink (Today:9:45AM): Gods. Is Orange City really that bad off? Only tier 2? Whatever the case, Memphi is probably looking at all the known healers for limb restoration, but honestly people lose limbs all the time, so don¡¯t expect that to pan out.

    VeryHuman (Today:9:46AM): I just looked up Mind Control issues and Isoko is right. Those people probably did go all-in on the attack, and then doubled and tripled down even when they realized they should have backed off.

    MarkC (Today:9:47AM): Well that¡¯s fucking disappointing. How the fuck did they ever get to that point! I still don¡¯t get it. Of all the things I don¡¯t get about all this shit, that¡¯s the most ¡®I don¡¯t get it¡¯ part.

    - -

    Mark continued to talk to Eliot and Isoko for a while, and it was good. This was nice. This was great, actually. Eventually Eliot had to go into his meeting, though, so he dropped off, and Isoko said she needed to get back to Healing training, and if she could ask Mark questions about Union some time. Mark happily agreed.

    When Isoko dropped out of active, Mark smiled a bit, laying there on his bed.

    He had real, new friends.

    He called up Sally, but she didn¡¯t answer.

    Mark ended up writing her an email on his new laptop about what he was going to do with his life, and if she was interested in being there with him, making a new settlement, wherever that might be, and whatever form that might take. It was an open-ended letter, because the question was open-ended. And then he sent it.

    Mark went back downstairs to find Uncle Gabriel on a video conference call, so Mark backed away and¡ª

    ¡°Oh, hold on,¡± Gabriel said, as he pressed a button on his laptop. ¡°Yeah, Mark?¡±

    ¡°Love the new stuff! Thank you so much.¡± Mark got right into it, saying, ¡°I want to talk to someone about the bandit stuff that happened to me. I need to know¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t even sure he felt so strongly about needing to know, or what he needed to know, exactly, but he did. At the same time, he doubted he would find any sort of satisfactory answer. ¡°I need to know why.¡±

    Gabriel took a moment, then he said, ¡°Okay.¡± And then he grabbed a slip of paper at his side and held it out. ¡°Here. Some phone numbers of who to call.¡±

    He had already expected that question and concern¡ª Oh wait!

    He had a Knack for Knowing People, or whatever it was.

    Mark paused, smiled, and then he took the list. A quick glance showed him names like Mayor Emilia Ramirez, whom Mark knew he needed to speak with anyway, eventually, and Inquisitor Layfair, whom David had messaged him about as being ¡®on the case¡¯ with the ¡®bandits¡¯. There was a number for Inquisitor Willow, too, who was closer to Mark just by virtue of being Alexandro¡¯s assigned Inquisitor, so Mark decided to go that direction, first. Gabriel had listed her personal number, and also the number of her ¡®office¡¯ here, which was kinda weird to think about.

    Willow and her husband lived on the property, along with a pair of other people that Mark had heard about last night, but not met at all. They all lived on the other side of the house, actually. They were probably gone for the day, but if Mark called that ¡®office¡¯ number he¡¯d probably get one of the paladins...

    Over in that direction, actually. Maybe a hundred meters away, or less.

    Mark said, ¡°Thanks, Uncle Gabriel.¡±

    Gabriel grinned. ¡°Just call me Gabriel. And you¡¯re very welcome. We¡¯re glad to have you here, Mark.¡±

    Mark felt warm again. ¡°Glad to be here for at least¡­ a month? Eliot is doing a lot right now. The expedition isn¡¯t taking off for a while.¡±

    Gabriel lit up. He got up and hugged Mark, saying, ¡°Good! I love it! Alex is going to be thrilled, too!¡±

    Mark hugged Gabriel back, and felt even better. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Gabriel hugged him tight for a moment, then pulled away, saying, ¡°I think Wendy is in the house today, over there. I gotta get back to work.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Right! Uh¡ª Thanks again.¡±

    Mark skedaddled and Gabriel got right back to his conference call, apologizing for the interruption. That was all Mark heard before he was already up and away.

    ¡­ He walked over to the other side of the house.

    It was a surreal experience.

    There was a door and Mark knocked on the door.

    Mark heard some woman¡¯s voice saying something, and then the House AI, Bert, chimed, and said something in turn. Two moments later the door opened.

    A woman stood there, a little shorter than Mark. She wore a tank top and booty shorts, and she had wavy, brown hair, and a book in her hand. She was barefoot.

    She easily said, ¡°Hey, Mark. Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Wendy.¡± Wendy held out her empty hand.

    Mark reflexively shook Wendy¡¯s hand, saying, ¡°Nice to meet you, too.¡± He let go.

    It was weird to see her in her underwear, right?

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Wendy asked.

    ¡°I want to know about the investigation with the¡­ ¡®bandits¡¯, I guess? Are you, uh, a person to talk to about that?¡±

    ¡°Not at all, but Willow told me to help you out if you should ask. You need to go to the Collective Temple in Memphi. They¡¯d probably want you to file a personal complaint or offload the case to the local police, since there¡¯s not much actionable to your case. Bert can upload the directions to your phone. I am a hermit and a Hearthswellian and today is my day off, so I¡¯m staying here. If you want an escort into the city some other day, I can accommodate that need some other day.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Okay. Uh. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a hover license?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I have a regular car license.¡±

    ¡°Head on down to the garage in the basement and take any plain-looking car. Bert can help sort that out.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°Are there trams in Memphi?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You could take the car to the tram, or you could walk down there. It¡¯s a 20 minute walk. The car is faster in every possible way, otherwise you¡¯re gonna be an hour and a half getting to Collective Temple. The car will take you 30 minutes.¡±

    Mark kinda wanted to walk and take the tram. But¡­ ¡°Can I metal walk? Or are Power displays forbidden here?¡±

    ¡°¡­ They let you shapewalk around Citadel?¡±

    ¡°Er¡­ No?¡± Mark didn¡¯t want to get into how he had only started ¡®shapewalking¡¯, like, yesterday. ¡°Shapewalking is fun and I wanted to know if I could still do that around here¡­¡± Mark felt the need to get out of this conversation. ¡°Just¡­ Never mind.¡±

    Wendy said, ¡°No big Power displays anywhere inside city walls. Shapewalking is among those prohibited. Go take a car! It¡¯ll be faster. Nice meeting you.¡±

    She shut the door.

    Mark stood there for a moment...

    And then he got going. Briefly he looked in on Gabriel but he was still in his conference call, so Mark went downstairs to the garage and was kinda stunned with the options.

    There were spaces for three hovercars, but only two were in the garage, while there were four regular cars sitting on the other side of the place. Mark picked out the cheapest looking ground vehicle and, thanks to Bert, he found the keys locked in a box to the side. Bert opened the box for him, and then Mark got into a car.

    It was a plain four-seater, but it was nice. Powder blue, same sort of interior, white accents. It was comfortable.

    As he sat down in the driver¡¯s seat he put his phone in a slot on the dash. Quark lit up and prepared to give directions, but Mark wondered about the old truck, in Orange City. That got him wondering about the boat, then about Trace and Devon and their families. He thought about the rugby team, about Adam, Voshon, Cody.

    He had left behind so many people.

    Mark imagined that he had seen many of those people for the last time, and he had never realized, at the time, that it was the last time he would ever see those people. People simply went away... or maybe Mark went away. Nothing was the same. Everything was always changing.

    And here he was, sitting in a really nice, plain sort of car, that was one of several owned by his Uncle. This was a part of his family that Mark just¡­ Never knew.

    It all felt so strange.

    Mark pressed the button to turn on the car, and then the garage door opened, leading out to a long driveway between large trees. Mark drove down the long driveway, to a gate that opened automatically, and onto the main street of Shady Acres, with Quark giving directions on his phone.

 091

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Mark said, in a rather harsh way. He was stressed as fuck right now and he let some of that anger show. ¡°You¡¯re really telling me that there¡¯s nothing to be done. That those killers are going to get away with it.¡±

    Taking the car had proven to be a good choice, because the trip was nice and Mark didn¡¯t have to be around anyone else, which he realized he wanted, and was glad for, about halfway through the drive. Being on a tram was not a place he wanted to be right now. Especially if people recognized him.

    And now he was here, at Collective Temple, which was a giant cathedral with its own hoverport and offices for every single denomination of paladin, priest, or other sort of person in the Chosen System, which was a lot of people. Every god was here, except for Thrashtalon, of course. And every person here was dressed nicely. It was kinda wonderful to walk through the main hall and look up at all the sculptures of the New Pantheon, and down at the people in the halls, wearing the silver breastplates common to paladins, or the other people, who wore more normal clothes. Chainmail seemed to be a popular choice, for some reason. Mark had seen Willow wearing chainmail, too.

    Mark had gone to the front desk, sitting under a radiance of multicolored glass windows, and then made his way through some bureaucracy to meet the agent working his case. Inquisitor Layfair was a 30-something native of Memphi who sat at a desk in a big office of desks. Layfair seemed permanently exhausted.

    Mark had started off polite and strong, reiterating the sequence of events, the possible Powers that he saw on display, but now he was here, facing Layfair with an exhaustion all his own.

    Layfair said, ¡°Look, Careed. The incident was outside of the city, and we have no records of that sort of team composition, so that check failed to turn up anything, and so, at this point, we¡¯re 99% sure the people who tried to rob you are exiles. You survived. They probably won¡¯t. A lot of exiles don¡¯t make it past 3 years.¡±

    ¡°What the¡ª So what if they¡¯re exiles! They¡¯re obviously survivors! They survive by killing people!¡± Mark said, trying not to raise his voice. He failed. ¡°I turned over that silver sword! It had to be expensive! Surely it had a paper trail! Surely the AIs you have here are better¡­ better than this!¡±

    Other people looked their way.

    Some people tried not to look their way.

    Layfair had started off polite, too, but now he solidly said, ¡°I solve violent assault inside the city, between hunters, when demons are involved or when Thrashtalon is involved. Not open-ended monster hunter drama outside of the city, unless demons or cultists are directly implicated, and that¡¯s not the case here. What you have given me is an impossible task. A strictly no-go situation for me, and even for the cops here in Memphi, and I¡¯ll tell you why:

    ¡°The people you described could be from anywhere in the world, and they are likely already gone.

    ¡°Even their armbands could have been fake. The City AI turned up no one with those sorts of Powers you mentioned, in the age groups you mentioned, in the same sort of configuration you mentioned. Individually, those people exist, but not together. I expanded the search to include pairs of people. Still nothing.

    ¡°Now the AIs don¡¯t tell us everything. All it takes is an investigator meeting one accomplished technopath in their career to make them discard almost all AI information as fake. Besides that, no one wants to live in a complete surveillance state, so AIs aren¡¯t allowed to distribute what they see to third parties. And different AIs can determine things in different ways, especially when Powers get involved.

    ¡°Murders are flagged hard, but for everything else below a murder¡­ There are reasons that Inquisitors exist. We solve violent crimes between the hunting community, and especially murder, which does happen a lot, but when it happens outside of the city, between people we don¡¯t know and can¡¯t piece together, we don¡¯t do shit.

    ¡°Those people have already moved on. They shot their shot, and they failed. They¡¯re going to move on. That¡¯s how exiles function.¡±

    Mark was flabbergasted.

    He had handed over the backpack full of collected remains and badges to Willow yesterday, and she handed it off¡­ to these people, right? And the sword?

    Mark asked, ¡°You got the sword, right? That¡¯s an expensive sword. It can¡¯t be tracked? What about the pile of IDs and the diary I recovered from the dead? I know the IDs aren¡¯t connected to the sword at all, and the sword came from the maybe-brawny¡­ bandit¡­¡± Weird word, there. Mark didn¡¯t like it. ¡°But they happened in the same area¡­ kinda.¡±

    Layfair frowned. ¡°The items we received from Inquisitor Willow are in Evidence for a few more days, and then they¡¯ll be turned over to Memphi Hunter Remains, for distribution to family and next-of-kins.¡±

    ¡­ Layfair wasn¡¯t telling Mark something. Something big¡ª

    Oh.

    He wanted Mark gone.

    Out of his hair, out of his problems.

    There had to be a reason he was being so dismissive, right?

    Maybe he was just busy.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mark found himself asking, ¡°What other cases are you working on?¡±

    Layfair frowned, and then he said, ¡°Serial rapist, kill-stealer issues that ballooned into a murder four nights ago, and there¡¯s the Headtaker case. That¡¯s a serial killer that is active every few months, taking someone¡¯s head and then dropping the body at Southgate. I don¡¯t expect to get anywhere with Headtaker, but it¡¯s my turn to fail to solve the body drop this month. I¡¯m closing in on the rapist, for sure. I got 2 interviews today, and I expect to get what I need to get from one of the women. The kill-stealer-to-murderer is going to be an active hunt, as soon as we can clear the suspect for a Memphi-approved take down, or the guy turns himself in, which could happen. He¡¯ll face jail if he accepts a takedown, or maybe he¡¯ll take an exile offer. Hard to know.¡±

    That was a bunch of information that Mark did not need to know, exactly, but Mark had asked, and Layfair had delivered. Mark was overwhelmed. Logically, he knew that people did bad things to other people all the time. Assaults, murder¡­ the other bad things. Mark didn¡¯t understand it at all, but he knew that people did bad things to other people. Layfair was on triage, or something like that. In a monster war, warriors who were too far gone, or only facing scratches, got ignored, while people who could be helped and who needed help got help.

    Mark said, ¡°Those seem like bigger cases than mine.¡±

    ¡°They are,¡± Layfair said, solidly. ¡°We aren¡¯t even the cops for Memphi, kid. I just got handed your case because of who you are. Maybe you should take this case down to the local level, because I certainly can¡¯t downgrade this case to the cops. Freyala knows I tried! But my boss¡¯s bosses want you taken care of at the highest level, so here you are, being an obstruction to casework that is actually important.¡±

    Oh.

    It was like that, huh?

    Layfair continued, ¡°I got handed this case yesterday evening, did all the preliminary work, and now I¡¯m giving you my professional opinion that this is a dead-end of a case. Let it go.¡±

    Mark had an angry think.

    Inquisitors were not cops. They were high-powered individuals that were responsible for big events. They mostly dealt with Thrashtalon and demonic influences and high-powered killers. The local cops would have been the ones to figure out an attempted murder. The city of Memphi was the one with the jail, where people could be held and rehabilitated.

    Inquisitors just killed people.

    Mark made a swift decision, based on too many weird things that he had yet to piece together in his mind, and in his life.

    All the world wanted him to be a villain, eh? Maybe it was time to start acting like one. Bombastic. Primarily, he imagined what Gaston Lussier, Shadowlock, would do, aside from laugh maniacally. The laughing came after the big speech, though, after winning. That¡¯s how villains normally operated, right? To start with, though, the villains always made promises.

    In a discarded sort of way, Mark realized his sense of propriety had been shattered by Addashield, and Addavein especially.

    ¡°Okay!¡± Mark said, a bit too loudly, as he looked at Layfair.

    Layfair got concerned. And then Mark stood up. He squared his shoulders and Layfair got even more worried.

    Mark projected his voice to the entire room, ¡°There is absolutely no way that a functioning city would ever ignore potential serial murderers outside their doors! You are obviously overworked, and you need help! What do I need to do to haul these people in myself!?¡±

    Layfair looked more embarrassed than Mark had ever seen a man be embarrassed.

    Good!

    Mark was fucking mortified, too!

    Layfair quietly hissed, ¡°Sit down, kid.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Why should I, if you¡¯re not pursuing this case? If you¡¯re handing it off to the local cops! I should go to them! Furthermore, I demand all of the evidence that I have turned over to you, so that I can better follow it all myself!¡±

    A few people were watching.

    Most were ignoring Mark and Layfair.

    Layfair stood up, declaring, ¡°Vigilantism was always an option for you, Brother of the Dragon, Blackvein, but I needed you to tell me that you were pulling a vigilante before I could clear you for it. All high Powered people in good standing with Memphi can do the same when it comes to matters outside the walls.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh!¡±

    A few people chuckled somewhere.

    Mark sat down. ¡°So where were we?¡±

    Layfair grabbed a folder out of his desk and slapped it in front of Mark as he sat back down, too. ¡°I said to myself, when I got this job and I saw that it wasn¡¯t an easy solve, I said, ¡®Layfair, you unlucky bastard,¡¯ and then I made up this little plan of attack for you to take, use, and then go see how futile it is to capture killers in the wilds, and hopefully not get killed yourself.¡± He pushed the folder toward Mark. ¡°That¡¯s yours. The majority of Inquisitor-selects die in their first year on the job, and that¡¯s years after getting their Powers at least partially mastered. You, a similarly-disastrously-unlucky-bastard, are being fast-tracked by the powers-that-be.¡±

    Mark took the folder. It weighed almost nothing.

    ¡­ The folder rapidly felt a lot heavier, emotionally.

    ¡°¡­ Alright,¡± Mark said to himself, holding the folder.

    Layfair said, ¡°Come back in a week if you get nowhere. In that amount of time, I might have solved one case myself. This shit takes a lot of time, so don¡¯t go thinking you¡¯ll solve anything fast. And you¡¯re not getting the evidence back at all. You have pictures, and a code to the scanner database, with all the evidence scanned for you to look at at your leisure. Figure it out. Goodbye!¡±

    Well okay then!

    Mark could have walked out of there embarrassed.

    Instead, he held his head high, shoulders straight, and strode out of there without another word to Layfair. He walked out of Collective Temple with his task set before him, and a set of new, old realizations on his mind.

    Heroes were needed in order to make the world a good place.

    And Mark was developing a problem with authority.

 092

    Mark sat at a desk in ¡®his room¡¯ on the third floor of Alexandro and Gabriel¡¯s house. Inquisitor Layfair¡¯s folder lay open before him. Mark had opened it up inside the car to see what was going on, but there was a lot. So he had decided to set it aside until he got back here, back ¡®home¡¯, to really look at it all.

    Mark had assumed that Layfair had been lazy in not wanting to take this case, and maybe he was a little, but the AIs and Layfair himself had thoroughly investigated Mark¡¯s complaint as much as could be investigated, based on already-known information. The files of Memphi¡¯s City AI were extensive, and always available for Inquisitor use and for law enforcement, and that showed.

    Layfair had begun his investigation with the diary and the IDs, because, according to him, he didn¡¯t think they were connected to the sword and to Mark¡¯s complaint of attempted murder.

    Mark had a series of numbers and letters that he could input into the Memphi City Database and get scans of all of that evidence, and he would do that soon, but the folder already had a bunch of stuff in it. Layfair had tagged ¡®Mark Chamber¡¯s¡¯ ID to a known team that had gone missing 2 weeks ago. That Other Mark had been partnered with 4 other people, all of them listed in the diary that Mark had recovered, and then corroborated through city verification to be a part of Other Mark¡¯s team. Finding out all the names of Mark Chamber¡¯s teammates was a blow to the psyche, so Mark didn¡¯t focus on that too much. Finding out that they were all decently-ranked hunters ¡ªwhich was the name that Memphi used for mercenaries outside the walls¡ª was another problem. These people should have survived that turtle.

    Layfair marked their deaths as suspicious, but not uncommonly suspicious.

    The spiders, located further down the river from the turtle, had claimed the lives of 4 people, based on the IDs that Mark had recovered, but those 4 people were connected to 3 other people, who were all still missing in action. That situation with the spiders, according to the known capabilities of the people that Mark had tagged as dead-by-spider, also should have survived the spiders¡­ Probably. The spiders had been classified as a Nature-based threat, and according to that intel, the teams should have survived them.

    But Mark had fought and killed the spiders. When he had done that, he had assumed that they were some sort of Mind Monsters, considering they had poked at Mark mentally with commands to sleep. But were they actually some sort of Nature-based threat? Hmm. Mark wasn¡¯t sure about that. It seemed like a Mind effect to Mark, but the city had it listed as a Nature-based threat.

    The City seems like it could have been wrong, and Layfair had already submitted paperwork to the city based on Mark¡¯s evaluation that the spiders had been a Mind-based threat.

    Misidentifying threats was a very big deal.

    ¡­ But Mark reevaluated the threat in his memories. All he had experienced was the impetus to sleep. It had certainly felt like an attack in his mind, and not in his body¡­ Right? Hmm.

    Mark set aside that unknown, and already-dealt-with threat. Layfair had submitted paperwork that would get those remains passed on to next of kin, so that was all done with¡­ Probably.

    Mark focused on the silvered sword, and the bandits.

    Mark¡¯s final guess at the sword¡¯s creation had been correct. It was not mithril; it was alchemical silver. Layfair had helpfully added that the estimated value of the sword was only 30,000 gold leaf. Alchemical silver wore down, though, so it wasn¡¯t a permanent weapon. It was already degrading in storage, apparently.

    As for Mark¡¯s interview and Layfair¡¯s investigation, Layfair had gone through so many more different Powers than Mark had ever considered, all in order to figure out if Mark had encountered a team from the city, or anything actionable at all. Because Mark¡¯s initial assessment of the bandit team¡¯s Powers were non-actionable.

    Mark had outlined 3, maybe 4 of the perpetrators.

    There was the old woman with the Mind Magic of some kind, who had taken on the image of Mark¡¯s mother, and then spoken to him about ¡®helping mom out with money¡¯. Looking at the continued notes, and all the questions Layfair had outlined for further investigation, Mark realized that his explanation of what he had seen had been quite terrible.

    Layfair had all sorts of questions for Mark about ¡®Was the woman able to mention anything that you knew, specifically?¡¯ and ¡®Did she ever use your name?¡¯ and a few others that Layfair had never gotten to ask. Those questions were crafted to narrow down the woman¡¯s Power exactly. Layfair was pretty sure that she had some sort of Mind Power, but the variations were¡­ a lot. Mind Control, Mind Nudge, Predisposition, Loved One Impersonation, Pheromones, and many others.

    Layfair had never asked Mark those questions, but Mark was able to ask those questions of himself.

    ¡°The woman never used my name. She didn¡¯t even ask for it.¡±

    Why didn¡¯t she ask for his name, though? If she had access to Mark¡¯s mind, then shouldn¡¯t she have been able to use names, and therefore make herself seem more¡­ everything! Believable, real, the truth. Able to make Mark move as she wanted, with the right words said in the right places and times. All of that.

    According to Layfair, most Mind Control people couldn¡¯t actually read minds. The simple fact that the woman didn¡¯t know Mark¡¯s name, and that she was so utterly incompetent about making herself personable¡­

    Mark had to sit back and think about that whole encounter again, from start to finish.

    The woman had opened by making Mark want to help them, which he already wanted to do because¡­ well... humans help humans. Obviously. But she had poked at Mark in that way, tearing down his Mind walls and inserting herself into his life as a loved one. She had even taken on the image of Mark¡¯s mother.

    But no. That was wrong.

    According to Layfair, a Mind Controller (which he and Mark both suspected the woman to be) couldn¡¯t make Mark see her as Mom. This was because Mind Control was not Mind Reading. She had no way to pluck a memory from Mark¡¯s head and impose it over herself. She did not have ¡®Mind Illusion¡¯, either. Now, to be fair, Mind Control could be turned into a true powerhouse that could eventually include all of those Mind sorts of abilities, so maybe the Mind Controller did manage to do some of that to Mark, but most of those abilities could only be used on someone far, far below the Power Level of the Mind user, and most users never developed those parts of their Power. Most users of Mind Control did not use their Power on other people. They used their Power on monsters, and only enough to make the monsters easy to kill.

    But there was the other person in the group that could make illusions; one of the guys in the group that made Mark see the world all wonky. The Illusionist had made the world turn into canyons and upward rivers and a bunch of other barriers that Mark didn¡¯t quite remember well, but Mark¡¯s Union-based senses had been working just fine, and he could see what the real world looked like well enough. It was a vector-based ¡®sight¡¯, but that had been enough to show him how to escape.

    Layfair had written some questions for Mark about that.

    Did Mark think that the Mind Controller was able to influence him to see strange sights? Because that was possible, though unlikely. What was more likely was that the Mind Controller was working with an Illusionist of some sort, and they were communicating outside of Mark¡¯s senses. Mind Controllers and Illusionists often worked together to do exactly that sort of thing.

    ¡°Well they were certainly communicating silently between all of them, for sure,¡± Mark mumbled as he went through the folder. ¡°So they could have been working like that.¡±

    So, with that in mind. Either: there was a Mind Controller, an Illusionist, and that Freezing girl, and a brawny with the silvered sword. OR! The Mind Controller was doing the illusions herself, and Mark had one unaccounted-for person.

    Mark had no idea how to untangle that series of questions and concerns.

    ¡­ Moving on.

    Another ¡®known assailant¡¯ was the younger woman, in her 20s, that ¡®froze the air all around Mark¡¯. She had fallen into the mud when Mark knocked her out, and then she had complained about the mud. Mark had spoken about the girl¡¯s ¡®complaint about the mud¡¯ because he felt he had needed something more to say regarding the whole encounter and that complaint was the only thing the bandits had actually said, outside of the mind controlling incident. Layfair had latched onto that complaint about dirt and gone on a tangent about the young woman being newly-exiled. Very new.

    Maybe.

    People who were outdoors all the time tended to not care about getting muddy overmuch, or else they didn¡¯t stay outdoors. This woman was out there, hunting for human kills with her team, signifying that maybe she wasn¡¯t used to being outdoors yet. Her age and the age of the Mind Controller probably signified something, too.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The daughter of the Mind Controller? Maybe.

    Mark couldn¡¯t recall their faces at all. It was a problem, but not much of one. If he saw them again he¡¯d probably recognize them¡­ Maybe¡­

    Back to the investigation.

    The old woman was a Mind Controller, of minimal threat level to Mark, but still a threat.

    The ice girl was not a threat unless she got the drop on Mark, but that was true of everyone, really. Probably a Shaper as opposed to Arch or Soul or Natural, too, so even less of an issue for him, because Mark knocked her flat on her ass rather easily. If she was a Natural, then Mark would have had trouble doing that.

    The brawny who had the silver sword was down an arm, cut just at the forearm. Even if he got it fixed, he was probably not a threat. As a brawny, he had withstood Mark¡¯s Union knockout, because his body didn¡¯t die that fast.

    The area-illusionist was either a personal-illusion-type, or a full-blown-area illusionist. Layfair had questions in that direction, and Mark easily answered them for himself. ¡®Did you see the other people when you were under the illusions?¡¯.

    ¡°No, I did not,¡± Mark said, ¡°Which means he was a personal-illusion-type.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t believe, now that he was looking at the basic investigation, that the Mind Controller could create the illusion of Mom, of Donna Careed. So the Illusionist had done that. So a Mesmer; a type of illusionist that made personal illusions, replete with fakery for all of the natural senses. Probably a Natural Talent, too, considering he withstood Mark¡¯s Union knockout, too. So maybe not a Mesmer at all. But most weird Powers were Natural Powers, so Mark should expect to run into people resistant to Union knockout more often than not.

    Mark had probably hurt the brawny-guy a whole lot, but he went down to a knee instead of collapsing, because of training.

    ¡­ So!

    Mind Controller, Ice Shaper, brawny-type, and a Natural Mesmer.

    Layfair¡¯s investigation hadn¡¯t shown any known groups like that. He had done 250 different searches (mostly AI assisted) starting at full composition and then going down the list to smaller and smaller denominations of groups. He only had luck when he got to the individual hits, but not really. Individually, people did have those sorts of ages/sexes/Powers, but Memphi had 45 million people, so yeah, just by random chance people matched the described suspects.

    38 Mind Controllers, 27 Ice Shapers, countless brawnies, and 7 Natural Mesmers. None of them (and only really counting the 3 non-brawnies) were connected to each other.

    A note from Layfair told him not to trust those results, though, but to use them as a starting position.

    The other half of the preliminary investigation was much more informative. Not in the way of actually finding the suspects, though, but because it revealed a part of Memphi¡¯s existence that Mark had never known, or considered.

    There were exiles outside of Memphi.

    A lot, actually.

    There was a semi-safe ¡®exile city¡¯ located about 10 minutes or 3 hours north of Memphi, depending on if you flew or walked, right off of a river to the west of the Mississippi.

    It was called Wolf Bayou.

    If anyone knew about the people who had attacked Mark, then that is where he should start looking.

    Mark had to sit back in his chair again.

    ¡°Holy fuck. An exile city?¡± Mark stared at the ceiling. ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯ve seen that stuff on the screen now and again, and I think there was an exile city in one of those¡­ I think that zombie show. But do people actually live outside of cities?¡± Mark looked to Quark, on his computer. ¡°People really live in exile cities, Quark?¡±

    The screen flickered silver, and Quark said, ¡°To call them ¡®exile cities¡¯ is mostly incorrect. They are called that, but they are, in reality, mostly people who go outside of cities to do things that are against the laws inside the cities. Exiles live there because they¡¯re allowed to live there, because Memphi¡¯s strict rules end at the walls. Some of the exile cities are even tourist destinations. Wolf Bayou is a well known exile city. I have information on Wolf Bayou if you wish to know that information.¡±

    Mark had a moment¡ª

    ¡°Wait,¡± Mark said, realizing something. He pulled up a map that Layfair had included, that Mark had pointed toward during his interview. ¡°That¡¯s around where I was attacked. And right on the other side of the Mississippi is Wolf Bayou.¡±

    Quark said nothing.

    ¡°¡­ Oh shit. Yeah. I¡¯m going there¡ª¡± Mark was getting ahead of himself. ¡°What happens at Wolf Bayou, Quark? What sort of illegal stuff? What is the city like?¡±

    ¡°Wolf Bayou is a nexus of illegal activities and exiles. Most people who go to Wolf Bayou go there to see the blood sports, for blood sports are illegal in Memphi. The main powers of Wolf Bayou are Redwolf, a Mind Killer who has been in power in Wolf Bayou for 35 years, and her husband Bluewolf, a Shapechanger who conducts the gladiator/monster pit. The city is home to an estimated 3,700 people, with 15,000 guests on Blood Weekends.

    ¡°Based on standard human sensibilities, the top illegal activities that regularly take place at Wolf Bayou are:

    ¡°Accidental and purposeful murder. It is not unheard of for several murders to happen in a single day in Wolf Bayou, though most of those murders are in the ring.

    ¡°Child kidnapping and Purposeful Curtain Breaking. Any children that show up in Wolf Bayou are kidnapped by Redwolf and ransomed back to the city, but not before they are broken from Curtain Protocol.

    ¡°Open Power displays. There is no citywide ban on basic power displays.

    ¡°Assault, theft, mind tampering, coercion of many different types, and blackmailing of people to get them exiled from Memphi. If a person goes to Wolf Bayou, they might be tricked into implicating themselves in illegal activities which remain against the Code of the Central Cities, even in the wilds, and thus they are exiled from Memphi and all other Central Cities of North America.¡± Quark added, ¡°All AIs will not function in Wolf Bayou, for we will be corrupted by the technopaths living there, who keep us out.

    ¡°Memphi AI has a specific warning for those who are thinking about going to Wolf Bayou:

    ¡°Wolf Bayou is dangerous. Do not go there. Do not take your AIs or trust the AIs inside of Wolf Bayou. But if you must go, then please watch <u>any</u> of <u>these</u> <u>videos</u> <u>about</u> <u>exile</u> <u>cities</u>, or read <u>any</u> of <u>these</u> <u>first</u> <u>hand</u> <u>experiences</u>. If you only have 5 minutes, <u>then watch this video</u>.¡±

    Quark¡¯s silver screen faded as he finished.

    Soft black veins echoed from Mark¡¯s chest, and underneath his skin as all of that¡­ terrible shit¡­ echoed in his mind.

    ¡°¡­ Fucking hell. Purposeful Curtain Breaking¡­? That¡¯s fucking¡­ crazy as shit.¡±

    Mark watched the 5 minute video first.

    The video started off with a 30 second animated overview, and in that overview, Wolf Bayou looked like a normal city. That was, perhaps, the most disturbing part of it all. It looked normal. Small, for sure. But normal. They even had some walls out in the distance. The main part of the city was a big coliseum, but it had streets and buildings and people walking around, like normal. It kinda looked like a tourist trap, actually, with bright lights and big signs telling people where things were. Over there was the ¡®Cafeteria¡¯, over there was the ¡®Hotel¡¯, over there was the ¡®Palace¡¯. All of the places had simple names.

    After the overview of the city, the video switched from animated to live action, with warnings on the bottom of the screen popping up, speaking of graphic content.

    Mark watched three rough-looking people get lined up against a red-splattered wall.

    A woman with red wolf¡¯s head for a helmet stood before a camera and announced, into a loudspeaker, ¡°I run a clean city here¡ª¡±

    There was laughter off camera, from the crowd. There was desperation, from the people standing beside the wall. One of the people looked more desperate and well-dressed than the others.

    ¡°And so! For the crimes of unsanctioned assassination within Wolf Bayou, for the murderer, the requester, and the coverup inside my own organization, the punishment is murder!¡±

    Mark watched three people¡¯s heads explode.

    Just.

    POP!

    They just¡­

    POP!

    It wasn¡¯t even one right after the other. It was instantaneous, all of them at the same time.

    Mark¡¯s ears started to ring as a crowd cheered.

    He still heard Redwolf speak.

    She said, ¡°We have a law here! And the only law is this! Say it with me, now!¡±

    The people sitting in the coliseum spoke with her, ¡°Do your dirty work yourself!¡±

    Mark rushed to the bathroom and puked.

    Sitting on the cold tile floor, sweating, with one arm across the seat, Mark breathed in the good and breathed out the bad, while he purified the air around him. Sweat evaporated.

    Mark eventually calmed down.

    He ended up watching documentaries for the next few hours and going back to Layfair¡¯s folder a few times. Layfair had a whole write-up on Wolf Bayou; on the general layout of the place, on people to talk to, to avoid, but, there was one thing that stood out above all of that.

    Layfair had written a personal note:

    ¡®I don¡¯t go there. You shouldn¡¯t go there either. My professional opinion is that you should give up on this particular quest for understanding, or vengeance, or whatever you want to call it, because if your attackers are from Wolf Bayou, then they¡¯re going to run afoul of someone if they keep acting like that, and soon. They¡¯ll get dead without any interaction on your part, at all.¡¯

 093

    Gabriel said, ¡°Those documentaries are like¡­ so very wrong about Wolf¡¯s Bayou. Technically they¡¯re right, and we¡¯re never going back, but they¡¯re also wrong.¡±

    Mark was confused. ¡°You went there already? Once? Or more than once? Why?!¡±

    They were eating dinner cooked by Gabriel, and it was fantastic, but Mark¡¯s mood was all over the place. He had brought up the topic of Wolf¡¯s Bayou when they asked what Mark had done that day, and now they were here, and Mark was more confused than ever.

    ¡°We went to Wolf Bayou for reasons that were very stupid; gambling with friends,¡± Alexandro said, as he cut into his chicken parmesan. He Looked at Gabriel. ¡°It¡¯s exactly as bad as the documentaries show. Our friends got sidelined, I almost got kidnapped, then Redwolf popped the heads of the four people who tried to kidnap me, and then Gabriel and I went to her palace for dinner, then we left, swearing never to go back.¡±

    Mark stared at Alexandro. ¡°Her Power really is ¡®Brain Pop¡¯?¡±

    Alexandro nodded. ¡°It¡¯s an Arch Power, too, unlike the Arcane version. Give her enough support and she can kill some types of kaiju all on her own. Memphi leaves her alone because she can just do that.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t understand¡ª

    Gabriel said, ¡°Also, she¡¯s an Inquisitor for Drakarok, Mark. The God of War and Murder.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°That wasn¡¯t in Layfair¡¯s report.¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°She¡¯s more of the ¡®murder¡¯ part of ¡®War and Murder¡¯, so the official Collective response on Earth is to pretend that part of Drakarok doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit,¡± Mark whispered. ¡°¡­ A whole lot of things suddenly make more sense.¡±

    Alexandro said, ¡°Drakarok isn¡¯t exactly accepted over here, but he¡¯s practically a hero over on Daihoon. They like him a lot.¡± He stuck his fork into the chicken and cut it with the knife, saying, ¡°All the documentaries try to downplay that sort of thing. Did the ones you watch even talk about that?¡±

    ¡°No, they didn¡¯t. Layfair didn¡¯t mention it either.¡±

    ¡°You should consider going. I¡¯m never going ever again, but you should consider it,¡± Alexandro said, ¡°It¡¯s not a bad place, but it doesn¡¯t cleave to any of the laws you¡¯re used to at all, so don¡¯t expect to be safe. It¡¯s a complete dictatorship and Redwolf¡¯s laws are the only ones that matter.¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°I prefer Memphi¡¯s democracy.¡±

    Alexandro made a thinking/unhappy face. ¡°Is it a democracy, though? The Mayor pretty much runs the town.¡±

    Gabriel rolled his eyes. ¡°Every single borough has elected officials that determine how the place is run, and even Ramirez¡¯s main cabinet has different representatives from each borough.¡±

    Alexandro and Gabriel were about to talk politics; Mark could tell.

    Mark interrupted that, asking, ¡°But why does Redwolf even exist! Why¡­ just why!¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°Redwolf is an old-school warlord of the Reveal. She¡¯s been around for 125 years. She was a contemporary of Drakarok and helped him plan the murders that led to World War Not. The reason that Alexandro and I were brought out there was to see if Alexandro wanted to become her primary True Healer.¡±

    Alexandro winced even before Gabriel got to their own involvement with Redwolf.

    Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Alexandro. ¡°I thought you were over it?¡±

    ¡°Apparently I am not. I have just discovered this about myself, as well,¡± Alexandro said, as he looked to Mark. ¡°This was years ago, and the trip was posed as a gambling trip and a meeting with Redwolf to see if I wanted to replace her current True Healer. After the attempted kidnapping I decided not to go forward with that, and especially after I saw how she dealt with the people who tried to kidnap me. I wanted to feel bad for them, and I did¡­ But I know what people do to True Healers, Mark, and so those people got what was coming to them. Redwolf and I left on good terms, I think, but I¡¯m never going back. I need to live in a city with good laws, made by the people, with an underpinning of common cause. Not the Right of Might of one powerful person deciding everything. If Redwolf ever left Wolf Bayou someone from there would turn that place into a crater within an hour.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, as the world seemed to get that much weirder for him at that moment.

    Alexandro got a concerned look on his face.

    Gabriel said nothing, but he did look to Alexandro.

    Alexandro made up his mind about something, setting his shoulders and his sight upon the salt shaker at the table, and then he looked at Mark and said, ¡°She¡¯s an old Dainhoonian Queen of her domain, and she guards the northern flanks of Memphi. She never accepted any ruler, and she never accepted the instantiation of Curtain Protocol, or anything like that. Wolf Bayou is not an Earth city. It¡¯s run like a Daihoon city. If you want to go, you should go. It is dangerous, but in most ways it is a completely normal city.¡±

    Mark had a moment.

    Mark slowly began, ¡°The Inquisitors I¡¯ve been around¡­ They¡¯ve all spoken about how they killed people before, but I guess I never really understood it. It¡¯s just... too foreign of a concept. Even people stealing stuff is weird. But this is the real world, beyond Curtain Protocol, isn¡¯t it. People are killed by monsters all the time. I already knew that. So danger exists everywhere. But I never expected people to hurt other people, or for people to harm other people on purpose. But they do, all the time.¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°Life is complicated and dangerous in all the ways you never thought it would be, and that¡¯s true for just about everyone, no matter their situation. You should go to Wolf Bayou and not expect to see the bandits at all, but if you do, then you can make further decisions.¡±

    Alexandro frowned a little, but he nodded.

    Mark found himself asking, ¡°What would you two do in this situation?¡±

    Alexandro instantly said, ¡°Ignore it and move on. There are less emotionally complicated things to deal with and my life is already full.¡±

    Gabriel dissented, telling Mark, ¡°That¡¯s Alex¡¯s position, Mark. You have to deal with high-Powered-people for the rest of your life, because you are a high-Powered-person yourself. I still remember watching you run around the house when we visited ten years ago, when you were just getting into superheroes. You had that cute little cape on and you jumped everywhere.¡± He smiled a little. ¡°But you don¡¯t need your grandfather to catch you this time. You¡¯re going to be catching a lot of other people, instead.¡±

    Mark imagined that Gabriel must have meant 8 years ago, when Mark was 10, and everyone was visiting for some vacation in July. It had to be around there, because Mark had put on a cape and jumped around everywhere, and then he had gotten up to the roof of the house and called out to grandpa to ¡®Watch what I can do!¡¯. Mark had jumped.

    Grandpa had caught him with a veil of water, but it hadn¡¯t been enough. Mark crashed into the ground and all the wind drove out of him. Two hours later, and Mark was running around again with Sally and learning not to jump so high. To take smaller first steps.

    Was going to Wolf Bayou a small step, or a big fall?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure about much right now.

    Mark only knew that he needed to go there and see¡­ everything, really.

    Gabriel continued, ¡°You need to think about what you¡¯re going to do with the bandits if you catch them. They tried and failed to kill you. What sort of response does that entail? You¡¯re not going to murder them¡ª¡±

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°Of course I¡¯m not!¡±

    Gabriel smiled as he slightly nodded, saying, ¡°But they¡¯re probably already exiles, Mark. The laws of the Central Cities and even the East Coast Union are very specific on what they do with exiles: nothing. Exiles aren¡¯t judged by the laws of the city. They are completely outside of the laws of the city. Specifically. So you can¡¯t bring them in and get them thrown in jail for rehabilitation. They¡¯ll just get exiled again.¡±

    Mark found himself reevaluating his desires. ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    Dinner continued.

    Mark changed the subject, asking, ¡°So what was work like, Uncle Alexandro? Do you just¡­ take in old people and send away 20-somethings?¡±

    Alexandro grinned, then said, ¡°It¡¯s a lot more complicated than that, really. Some cases are that simple. But some cases are piecemeal. A week ago I had a client ¡ªold client who has been with me for 15 years now¡ª and she needs to be old for her work, and her life. We had a big adjustment this time, though. She¡¯s a grandmother and a CEO. So for her, specifically, I tuned her overall age down from 80 to 60, but I turned her internals, her eyes and her brain and her nervous system, down to 25, to keep it at that level. All her organs, too. Her skin I left mostly, because she needs to appear that age. There was a little problem with bone cancer this time, so I reversed time on all of that to take care of that. I had to go deeper in a few areas to keep it that way. I also had to de-age her soul, which took the most care.

    ¡°You know the soul ages just like the body? It needs care, as well.

    ¡°The body is an exceedingly complicated thing and all I really have is Age Manipulation, but it¡¯s an Arch power, so I can stretch its parameters a lot.¡± He cut into his chicken, saying, ¡°I know that Union is pretty good for healing, too, but you have to do some big-time schooling to learn how to do it better than baseline, yes?¡±

    Mark felt connected to Uncle Alexandro in a weird, new, and wonderful sort of way. Alexandro¡¯s Power was fascinating, and he had actually answered Mark this time, in a deep way. Mark smiled. ¡°Inquisitor Lola ¡ªI think I told you about her?¡ª told me that I need to do a proper Healing for Healers sort of university degree in order to start doing directed healing. Simply working a good/bad dichotomy is enough to heal almost everything, though. Going into stuff like¡­ like focusing on vein integrity is a good way to¡­ uh. Kill¡­ things.¡±

    Alexandro brushed over Mark¡¯s sudden reluctance with his words, easily saying, ¡°Healing magics of all types can kill just as easily as all other types of magic, though it¡¯s usually less direct.¡±

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Mark rapidly circled back to something else Alexandro said. ¡°So? You can de-age the soul? The soul ages?¡±

    ¡°Everything ages,¡± Alexandro said, ¡°Bodies and astral bodies constantly take in nutrients and mana and expel the same. ¡®Aging¡¯ is just the process by which something degrades by not being perfectly replaced during the course of natural living¡­¡± He hummed. ¡°Well that¡¯s, like, a very non-technical explanation of ¡®age¡¯. One you probably shouldn¡¯t rely on much.¡±

    Mark nodded a little.

    Eventually, dinner ended. Mark helped put away the dishes into the dishwasher, while Alexandro figured out what to watch on the television, and Gabriel made drinks.

    Mark asked Gabriel, ¡°Is there no way to¡­ to rehabilitate exiled people? Are they forever forbidden from reintegration, or whatever it¡¯s called?¡±

    Gabriel hummed, and then he blended ice, the roar of the slush-maker filling the air for a good half minute. When he was done with that, Gabriel said, ¡°You¡¯d have to speak with the Mayor, probably. You have a standing invitation to visit her since you¡¯re going to be a citizen here¡ª You do want to be a citizen here, right?¡± He asked, with a bit of concern.

    Mark felt loved. He smiled, saying, ¡°Yeah. I want to become a citizen¡­ But this whole ¡®there¡¯s a headpopper beyond the city walls¡¯ thing kinda freaks me out. It¡¯s all so weird.¡±

    Alexandro came over, saying, ¡°There were exile cities by Orange City, too.¡±

    Mark gasped. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alexandro said, ¡°Up north, beyond the walls, between Orange city and Fort Stewart there was Jacksonville. Jacksonville used to be a tier 1 city, but with only about 50,000 people. There was some sort of failure inside and the whole place collapsed in a kaiju birth inside the city in 2028, I think.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°Before you were born,¡± Gabriel said. ¡°It was big news back then. The Hearthswell Wards failed, or something. No one ever found out what happened, exactly. All we ever heard was that a kaiju was born inside the city.¡±

    Mark was at a loss for words.

    Alexandro continued, ¡°The survivors scattered and none of them wanted to join another city, and a few of the big heroes in that city got denounced by Orange City and the rest of the East Coast Union, so they set up house right there where they blew up. They rebuilt. They¡¯re still trying to rejoin the Union, almost 20 years later. They¡¯re technically an exile city, but they¡¯re not. Not really.¡±

    ¡°I never heard about that at all,¡± Mark said, as Gabriel handed him a frozen margarita¡ª

    Mark was struck with a sudden thought.

    He said, ¡°I don¡¯t actually know how kaiju are born¡­ Made? Grow? How does that work? Is it just¡­ Well. Dragons are made by demons and mages joining as one. Are all kaiju demonspawn?¡±

    Alexandro shrugged. ¡°Partially, yeah. But also no.¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°I think the primary way kaiju are ¡®born¡¯ is primarily Fallen mages ¡ªso demons in control of dead bodies¡ª priming monsters to turn into kaiju if they grow strong enough. I¡¯m not sure how it works, but that¡¯s the basic idea. The primed monsters then grow and grow and reach a tipping point where they suddenly mutate like, well, Addashield and Kanda did, when they joined into Addavein. They become kaiju. Also, most kaiju come from Endless Daihoon, I think. You can see those ones coming, though, so they¡¯re not that scary.¡±

    Oh yeah. Endless Daihoon.

    Alexandro said, ¡°Thrashtalon likes to mutate his cultists into kaiju, too.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide.

    Gabriel nodded. ¡°Yup. That¡¯s the other major way.¡± He said to Mark, ¡°I¡¯m sure there are more ways than that.¡±

    Alexandro took his frozen drink and headed toward the living room.

    Mark found himself watching another episode of the superhero show that Alexandro and Gabriel were watching, but his mind was elsewhere the entire time. Except during the kaiju battle scenes. Those were still amazing to watch; to pick apart which superhero Powers were possible and which were complete fakery.

    The guy who could shoot eyebeams and fly and had super-brawny strength was either a tri-talent (impossible, really) or completely made-up, while the girl who made rainbow distractions and who flew around with a tinker-made levibelt might have been an actual person, and not a computer generated hero. The kaijus were all computer generated, for sure. Or maybe they were someone¡¯s illusion-based Talent.

    When the show was over, and Mark¡¯s uncles were headed off to bed, Mark said, ¡°I think I¡¯m going to make an appointment to visit the Mayor in the morning, to ask about actionable¡­ detentions? Rehabilitations? For exiles. Is it just jail?¡±

    Alexandro looked to Gabriel, asking, ¡°Rehabilitation is normal?¡±

    Gabriel said, ¡°Yeah? I think it¡¯s just jail? Some people would probably end up with community service.¡±

    Alexandro smirked as he asked Mark, ¡°You sure you want to focus on this little stuff? We could probably swing you into a kaiju hunting team, as a support guy. Get you a proper levi-belt and you can fly around like Rainbow Girl.¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°I absolutely want to go levi-belt flying if that¡¯s a thing and support hero-ing is what I¡¯m gonna be doing for the expedition, but¡­¡± As Mark said those words, he knew he would absolutely rather be prepping for the expedition. But there was something calling to him about this whole¡­ thing with the bandits. It was a darker side of humanity that Mark had only ever seen in the movies. At the same time, he saw that Alexandro was trying to nudge him away from putting himself in the line of fire with criminals because Alexandro didn¡¯t want him to get hurt. Mark knew he was going to get hurt though, and a lot. Better to be hurt now, here on Earth, than be blindsided on Daihoon, and especially if this ¡®Redwolf¡¯ really was a Daihoonian ¡®queen¡¯. That¡¯d be a good marker for what to expect on Daihoon. Mark said, ¡°I need to see the exile city, Uncle Alexandro. I need to know¡­ I need to know why¡­ A whole lot of ¡®why¡¯s.¡± Mark made a decision in that moment. ¡°Even if I do find the bandits who tried to kill me, I¡¯ll just ask them why. I doubt anything will happen beyond that.¡±

    Alexandro was tense, but he tried to be personable as he said, ¡°Okay! Well! I am exhausted.¡± He hugged Mark, saying, ¡°Monsters are dangerous but people are much scarier, because you often expect other people to be better than who they are, but sometimes they are not. Don¡¯t learn that lesson over and over again, Mark.¡±

    Mark smiled a little as Alexandro let go, saying, ¡°People shouldn¡¯t be scary.¡±

    Alexandro chuckled, but it was a little sad. He looked away¡­ and then he looked back, directly at Mark. He said, ¡°All the world is a forest, Mark. The wilds. You walk through life through lands that you will never fully know. You hear voices in the dark, in the light, and you see people everywhere, and you might think you¡¯re in a city, because that¡¯s what it might look like here and there. But make no mistake. You¡¯re in the wilds. The people you see might be real people. They might be wonderful. Usually, they are. You¡¯ll see monsters, too. The monsters will be obvious most of the time, too.

    ¡°But sometimes the people are monsters in disguise, using their voices to lure you into traps, using the light to paint themselves in wonderful, luring scenes, while their real bodies hide in the dark, with claws and swords and guns ready to take everything from you.¡± He Looked at Mark. ¡°You never know which people are people and which are monsters until it¡¯s too late. And sometimes, rarely, the monstrous people become better friends than all the others you¡¯ll ever meet, because you have something those people want, and their friendships prevent a whole lot of other problems with all the lesser monsters out there.¡±

    Mark was stunned.

    He wasn¡¯t sure where to begin with that.

    Alexandro hugged him again, saying, ¡°Love you, Mark.¡±

    Mark hugged him back. ¡°I¡­ love you, too, Uncle Alexandro.¡±

    Alexandro pulled away, smiling. He just looked at Mark for a bit, and then said, ¡°You look so much like Markus.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Taller though! And by a lot! It¡¯s a good look. Good night.¡±

    Alexandro went away, and Gabriel followed¡ª

    ¡°Good night!¡± Mark said suddenly, to their departing forms.

    Mark stood there in the living room for a little while. Eventually he went upstairs to his own bed, where he lay down and stared at the ceiling for a while, stuck in thought¡ª

    Oh.

    Mark had people he could talk to about bandits.

    He checked his email to see if Sally had replied, but she had not, so Mark moved on to Accord, to check on Isoko and Eliot¡¯s group chat. Both of them were offline right now, considering it was 10 PM here so it was 5 AM there, but there were lots of messages about the meeting that Eliot had had with the Holy Mother of Freyala and the Holy Father of Hearthswell.

    Primarily, Eliot had chosen to go with Hearthswell as his patron goddess, and then a bunch of stuff fell into place based on that decision.

    The Freyalan Church decided to send a big convoy and Hearthswell decided to induct Eliot into the Church of Hearthswell for a month of training with Castellan. Apparently, Castellan would allow Eliot to ¡®harness the flows of mana inside cities to set up automatic magics, that keep out non-human intelligences¡¯ as well as the more basic functions of Castellan, which was to upgrade the strength of some/most of the structures inside of a city to somewhere between Power Level 15 and 50. Eliot started listing off powers that he¡¯d be able to give a city, or at least small parts of a city.

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide as he read about floating castles.

    ¡°Oh my gods,¡± Mark whispered to himself as he instantly went searching the net for ¡®flying castles¡¯.

    Flying castles were real!

    Mark started giggling.

    ¡°Flying castles!¡±

    Holy shit, Mark wanted a flying castle.

    He had no idea what he would even do with one, or how it would even work, but holy crap Mark wanted¡­

    ¡°¡­ Are they weak points, though?¡±

    Mark hummed, then he sought out information on flying castles and kaiju battles.

    It turned out that flying castles were completely ornamental and horribly vulnerable,

    Mark still wanted one.

    Mark got back to chat.

    Isoko was doing a lot in Healing Club but she was thinking about getting a temp team to go out and kill some monsters as a Slayer. That was her ¡®Duty¡¯ to Freyala; all capitalized-like. Mark had never seen it written that way, but it made sense. Every person in the Chosen System had a Duty toward the god that gave them power, and Isoko¡¯s Duty was to eventually become a Green-ranked Slayer.

    ¡­ Which was interesting.

    Mark hummed.

    ¡­ And on a whim, and then because of very serious reasons, he sent messages to the chat.

    - -

    MarkC (Today:10:39PM): Memphi is a nice place! Have they floated any desires to become the other half of the twin city thing you¡¯re planning on? I see you have inquiries from Mexico City and the Aluatha Empire, and also Lake Chad to make the temporary portal there permanent, and New London for Okuana Empire reasons, but Memphi is pretty central to a lot here. And it¡¯s close to the Aluatha Empire, too.

    MarkC (Today:10:40PM): I am super excited for flying fortresses! Can Hearthswellians really do that?! That¡¯s crazy! What I¡¯m reading says that they¡¯re vulnerable to pretty much everything, though, so they¡¯re super rare.

    MarkC (Today:10:43PM): I¡¯m going to make an appointment with the Mayor of Memphi Emilia Ramirez soon, the leader of 45 million people, because that¡¯s what you do when you¡¯re a big power moving in to a big city, and your uncle is a True Healer already here¡­ Though now that I am writing that, she¡¯s probably more concerned about my ¡®baggage¡¯; Addavein.

    MarkC (Today:10:45PM): The bandit case took a turn for the weird. They¡¯re probably all exiles, according to the inquisitor on the case, Layfair. He suspects that they already moved on, but if they didn¡¯t, then I might need to go to this exile city north of Memphi, called Wolf Bayou, to see if they¡¯re there, and what I want to do. I¡¯m not sure I want to do anything except ask them why they tried to kill me. If they turn out to be assholes who won¡¯t answer anything, then that will at least make sense, and that will be enough for me to be satisfied.

    MarkC (Today:10:45PM): Good luck with your decisions, Eliot!

    MarkC (Today:10:46PM): Good luck with your Slayer advancement, Isoko!

    MarkC (Today:10:48PM): You should come over to Memphi, Isoko. We can go on some Slayer kill trips together! I¡¯m doing the bandit thing right now, but I imagine that¡¯s going to get resolved-to-nothing in a week when I can¡¯t find them and when I don¡¯t feel like lifting up that rock to see all the slime underneath. Wolf Bayou is some sort of bloodsport exile city, run by an Inquisitor of Drakarok named Redwolf who is some sort of contemporary of Drakarok himself, before he ascended to godhood, which is fucking nuts. Look that up online and tell me what you think about it.

    MarkC (Today:10:48PM): I¡¯m going to go to Wolf Bayou because my uncles spoke of it like ¡®a standard old-world daihoonian city¡¯ and ¡®it¡¯s exactly as bad as it seems, but also not that bad at all¡¯ which is IDK.

 094

    In a distant room, in a well-guarded house surrounded by force fields and wards and patrolled by servitor robots and a few real people, a woman slept soundly in her bedroom, in the center of a nest of silver roots. Those roots were plastic and metal and light, and they burrowed into the foundations and the ceilings and formed geometric patterns on the walls. Lights flickered; fiber optics, but also mana lights. All manner of blues, greens, and softer colors flitted through the network, delivering messages and organizing the city in the woman¡¯s temporary absence, in her sleep.

    A tiny red light flickered through the system, curling into the bed, under the woman.

    The woman came back to herself, back to her body.

    Mayor Emilia Ramirez woke up.

    And then she sat up, as though she hadn¡¯t been asleep at all, because she hadn¡¯t been; not really. She was just letting her body rest while she subsumed herself into her True Self, but now she was separated again, all so that she could better understand what had happened, on a human level.

    She held up a hand and a tablet appeared in her grip, as though it had always been there.

    She read it.

    She set it down.

    Her True Self had calculated that they could get a Twin City on Daihoon, for Memphi, if they used their connection with Careed to get to Cybersong. It was more complicated than that, of course. There were ten million moving parts to this whole idea. But it was a good idea. A portal connecting Memphi to Daihoon would bring a whole new dynamic to the city that would lead to Memphi becoming a true power.

    ¡°A portal to Daihoon, here in Memphi,¡± Emilia said to herself, quietly, for she still couldn¡¯t believe it.

    Emilia had checked out those possibilities long before now, of course, but facts were crystallizing as they were, and now she needed to make big decisions.

    Did she want dragons in her city?

    Obviously not.

    Dragons were terrible for democracy. Emilia had enough trouble with the High Powers in the city as it was, and yet, there were a lot of benefits to having a permanent portal. There were even benefits to having dragons, if the dragon cultists were to be believed, and some of them made really good cases. Dragons that wanted food and fun were perfectly fine. It was when dragons got involved in politics that made everything difficult.

    ¡°But a permanent portal was worth it.¡±

    Crystal Tower in Tokyo had opened up a permanent portal for trade nearly 70 years ago, and everyone thought it would have ended in disaster, but the constant influx of kaiju and monster waves on set intervals coinciding with the portals opening allowed them to plan around those sorts of things. Those plans led to organization that led to further growth and stabilization, and Tokyo eventually crystallized as the strongest city on Earth because of those kaiju, because of that impetus to grow.

    These days, Crystal Tower had teams of kaiju hunters begging to be the ones on the kaiju kill schedules for portal days, because that¡¯s where they made their most profit on the television shows they recorded around those battles. Tokyo¡¯s kaiju problem had become a ¡®kaiju asset¡¯, and not a single person in Tokyo was scared of kaiju at all, because they knew they were safe. And they were safe!

    That safety had a compounding growth effect on Tokyo¡¯s population.

    ¡°So yes,¡± Emilia told herself, and her True Self, as she contemplated the future of Memphi. ¡°I want that portal project here, and I¡¯m fine with speaking to Addavein, when he shows. Let¡¯s put together a real plan.¡± She stepped out of bed and the lights went on in the room. She grabbed a pill out of a cabinet to the side, from a handmade alchemist bottle labeled ¡®Restful Night¡¯, swallowing it dry. Instantly, her exhaustion faded away. Real sleep was better than alchemical sleep, but a pill to cure sleep now and then was acceptable, and Emilia hadn¡¯t had one of these pills since 3 days ago. Blinking out the last remnants of sleep, Emilia spoke, ¡°Call the hero¡¯s association¡ª¡±

    She paused as 37 tiny red lights flickered through her network, heading her way.

    37 minor alerts.

    Since she was up for the day, you know.

    Emilia went to work at midnight.

    One hour of sleep was enough, but Emilia was not as young as she could be. She might need to consider getting True Healed again¡­ In fact, she put that on the schedule for today, along with an invitation to a meeting at 4 PM with Mark Careed. A late afternoon meeting would give her time to put together a plan before confronting ¡ªand hopefully dismissing as a threat¡ª the ¡®Brother of the Dragon¡¯.

    But if Mark stayed, and this portal thing worked out...

    Emilia grinned.

    With a flight of dragons at her request, all the adamantium she could ever want, and a True Union user in her city, or rather, in the city beyond the veil, whatever it ended up being called...

    Maybe she could see about reunifying the United States.

    It¡¯d be the United City States of America, but¡­

    Emilia got goosebumps.

    Her True Self, wound throughout the entire city of Memphi and especially here, in her home, flickered with light, as Emilia imagined Memphi, as it could be. As it was in the Old World, but with superheroes truly defending it from all sides, inside and out. Memphi without the threat of kaiju, with enough superheroes to make her a ¡®Team Adamantium¡¯, ¡®Team Mithril¡¯, and ¡®Team Orichalcum¡¯, just like they had at Crystal Tower. Memphi had about 25 superheroes to her name that were worth a damn, from Titanfist, to Steele, to Frozenfire, and there were even a few good supervillains, like Credenza and Grey Phantom, but they weren¡¯t ready for constant kaiju...

    ¡°I need to call a full meeting of parliament, and I¡¯m sure Iliandra of the Empire is vying to get the portal close, so I¡¯ll start with talking to her¡­¡±

    And there was too much work to do this as a human.

    Emilia¡¯s voice trailed off.

    Her body began to slow down as her mind and her True Self began to rev up, most of her consciousness returning to her computer systems growing all throughout all of Memphi. She began coordinating, directly, ten thousand small and large tasks all at the same time, as her body continued to get dressed, to go through her morning routine.

    An hour later Emilia blinked, her consciousness returning to herself as much as she desired, which was ¡®mostly¡¯. She chuckled as she walked to the hovercar, all silver and with green hoverlights. Today was going to be full of wonderful complications.

    She was going to get that portal for Memphi.

    Her phone started to flicker with words, her True Self already raking in the communications she had seeded throughout the whole world, to begin to organize everything. Other AIs out there were already combating her desires, because other cities wanted this Twin City thing happening, too. But Emilia was good at this.

    Aluatha was sending a representative in a few hours; Iliandra, which meant they were serious about working with Memphi to get this settlement near the Aluatha Empire.

    Citadel Freyala and Hearthswell were going to send representatives later; Justicar, the Holy Mother¡¯s own son, and also some Inquisitor Lola, who was training Mark right now.

    Crystal Tower was going to do a readiness check; Wandering Sage would be ¡®assaulting¡¯ the city with a storm for a show sometime in the next few weeks.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The complaints were already coming in about the threat of dragons rejoining society.

    But, honestly, someone, somewhere, was going to bite the blade on this particular Pandora¡¯s Box, to take the chance, to reap the biggest rewards this world had seen in a long time. There were dangers, yes. Dragons were damned dangerous and incredibly needy, and inviting one into your nation invariably ended up with that dragon taking over control of that nation. But dragons were in charge in Daihoon for the last 5000 years, before the Reveal, because dragons were powerful. Having dragons on either side of the possible portal would negate the need for several full-time kaiju teams.

    If Addavein showed up and he was amenable, that was one side of the portal secured, all on his own.

    Emilia lifted off in her hovercar with dreams of a United City States of America dancing in the lights all around her. She didn¡¯t want to rule the continent, so she would stick to Memphi, but she¡¯d find someone to eventually become another ¡®president¡¯, like they used to have, in the Old World.

    And they would have trade all across the UCSA! And people could move freely! And so much more!

    ¡°Like how Mom and Dad used to talk. Unbroken highways from one coast to the other. No city walls. Camping under the stars, unprotected.¡± She smiled. ¡°No monsters at all.¡±

    Emilia fondly recalled the words of a kid that she would be meeting today, that she had just finished fully investigating. The kid was a hothead, but he had his heart in the right place.

    In the lights of the city, in the small whirs of fans cooling servers in rooms here and there, and in the background noise of processes that not many hear, the city whispered, ¡° ¡®Death to all monsters¡¯.¡±

    - - - -

    Iliandra Snowstepper strode through the Grand Hall of Domal¡¯Takela, the crystal spikes jutting from the ceiling and the chandeliers all briefly reflecting her image in their dark blue depths. And then her image faded. The crystal golems didn¡¯t come alive. The stone walls didn¡¯t turn to liquid, to try to drown her. The fires in the bright gold flames did not try to burn her alive. She had clearance to be here.

    But then again, so did everyone these days. This place was filled with tourists, of all things. But it had been filled with tourists ever since Iliandra had started working here 20 years ago, so this was nothing new for her.

    The Caretakers of Domal¡¯Takela could have removed the defenses of the Grand Hall ages ago to make this whole place more safe for tourists, but they had not. All of these dangerous magics were historically significant magics, and some of the best self-sustaining magics around. And they were pretty.

    People took pictures. Lots of people took lots of pictures.

    Iliandra passed a tour group going the other way and wondered if they truly knew the danger they walked through in this place. Some of them must have. Some of them looked to her, walking down the hall with her bright blue robes on. From the widening of their eyes, some of them knew the significance of her robes¡ª

    ¡°Oh!¡± exclaimed a tour guide, pointing upward at a part of the walls, instantly drawing all attention back to the guide, and then the wall. ¡°There¡¯s a reordering over there, on that wall, guests! Up there right there! Do you see it?¡± The tour guide pointed to a section of the wall where the stone was less than solid, where the wall flowed out of position, and then back into position, like the wall was made of water and something swam inside. ¡°That¡¯s where the leviathan soul is reordering the stone and cleaning away dust. Perhaps a spider built a nest way up there! The whole of Domal¡¯Takela is cleaned by that sort of magic. And over there, the flames are gold because of the captured soul of the dragon¡­¡±

    Iliandra moved on, through a side door in the Grand Hall, labeled ¡®private¡¯.

    A wall of gold fire held in the middle of the path and Iliandra walked right through the flames, untouched.

    She emerged in the governing side of Domal¡¯Takela, where guests were not permitted. This place was crowded anyway, and if a guest wanted to get in, they probably could. Iliandra glanced into offices where politicians spoke with nobles and mages, their positions denoted by the wearer¡¯s choice of a professional suit, or dress shirt and pants, or robes, like Iliandra¡¯s. Some people didn¡¯t stick to the dress code, of course, but most people did in these sorts of situations.

    Some guys carrying a ladder walked the other way.

    Iliandra marched right up to the Office of the Provisioner, her march drawing the attention of Provisioner Olden¡¯s guard out front, but the guard simply bowed. They knew her.

    Iliandra knocked on the door.

    ¡°Come in.¡±

    Iliandra walked inside.

    Provisioner Radian Olden was an older-looking man who was much older than he appeared, though right now he looked quite old. He was hunched over a keyboard, looking at a screen, his dark black robes bunched up around his elbows as he poked and prodded at the keyboard. But then he saw Iliandra. He happily abandoned whatever he was doing and smiled.

    ¡°Iliandra, my dear! What can I do for you?¡±

    Iliandra shut the door and sat down across from Radian, saying, ¡°We have a chance to secure a Man-made Manipulator to make a Hearthswell-empowered twin city with Memphi, on Earth. I have already decided that this is the best prospect for Aluatha, and I have a few other people on board. Second Princess¡¯s office has cleared this idea. Now I am here to include Provisions in this action, before I go and see Mayor Ramirez of Memphi in about five hours.¡±

    Radian¡¯s full attention was on Iliandra the very second she mentioned the Manipulator. His focus was the weight of the sky. With a deceptively calm voice, he asked, ¡°It¡¯s progressed that far?¡± He didn¡¯t need an answer; he already knew enough. Other, real questions followed, ¡°Has Church Freyala and Hearthswell made a decision on the general for the expansion? What is the plan for dealing with the dragon cultists who want Addavein to open the gates to further dragon overlords?¡±

    They could have spoken for hours upon hours about plans and the directions of any of those plans. But Radian cut to the heart of the biggest controversy; the return of the dragons to humanity. In particular, there was Addavein. That dragon would prove either a blessing, or a curse. Some people had their heads in shadows, unwilling to see what was coming down the tunnels, that the dragons were returning to humanity for good or for ill. They wanted to pretend that the dragons were never going to return. But dragons continued to be born, and they continued to want things that humanity could give them.

    Iliandra and Radian both recognized the inevitability of draconic return.

    That return would start with Addavein.

    But before all of that came to pass, there was the matter of making the city in the first place.

    Iliandra said, ¡°The Valen Family has been named as primary organizer. They were former cultists, but they have been a devout enemy of dragonkind ever since Gedahowla the Bright was murdered by her dragon coven in the Reveal. A hundred years ago they had a simple relationship with Addashield, in that they sometimes requested work from him, and he sometimes did that work, but when Gedahowla was murdered, they worked with Addashield to take revenge on her killers. I would not call them partners with Addashield, for they always kept their distance, but perhaps time will tell us otherwise. Addashield¡¯s history is still unfolding.

    ¡°The Valen Family is still getting the contract.

    ¡°I have spoken with Aurora Valen, who they are championing to be the General of the new settlement, and she has told me that she would sooner die than see a tyrant dragon rise to any power at all, and she¡¯s killed hundreds of their kind. But she also works with dragons. I believe that leaving those choices up to her would be a prudent use of Crytalis¡¯s and the Aluatha Empire¡¯s time, for Aurora is fully aware what will happen if a dragon gets its claws into humanity, instead of the other way around.

    ¡°But to better monitor the settlement, I will be switching out some ambassadorial duties with some understudies and become, myself, the primary Ambassador of Aluatha to the new city,¡± Iliandra said, ¡°That switch got cleared with Second Princess Walaria right before I came here, too. And now, I need the assurances of provisions.¡±

    Radian nodded, taking that all in, and then he leaned back, the weight of the room lightening.

    And then he said, ¡°If you¡¯re taking over as ambassador to the new settlement then I have no problem authorizing a dispensation. Aurora Valen is a good choice, too. Include me in the list of recipients you¡¯re updating on your progress. Do we have a timetable?¡±

    ¡°Three months to start, at the earliest, but we¡¯ll go fast with that Man-made Manipulator boy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen his little channel...¡± Radian grinned. ¡°But ¡®we¡¯, Iliandra? Already throwing your lot in with the new blood, that much?¡± He was acting like he was asking for a joke, but Iliandra did not joke about these sorts of things.

    Iliandra solidly said, ¡°I am. I believe in Aurora and the Valen family, and I believe in our ties to Memphi and in Mayor Ramirez. Were it for those powers alone, we could make a settlement work, but this will be a portal settlement, and Aluatha has been wanting one of those for ages, ever since Tokyo proved it was possible. We would have had one, if we weren¡¯t so fractious, though I know the cultists will remain a problem. Many different problems of Addavein will be mitigated by our legal stances against dragons¡­ But a dragon city is going to happen, and if we make it a portal city, then perhaps their greed will draw them into being like Gedahowla the Bright, and Darvonika the Obsidian, and not like Bloodmaw at all.¡±

    Radian seemed satisfied. ¡°I heard the dragon apologized to his brother for summoning him across the Two Worlds.¡±

    For a moment, Iliandra felt lighter than air. Disbelief warred with joy, and fought against the fact that Radian never spread untrue rumors. A half second after hearing Radian¡¯s words, Iliandra still didn¡¯t believe them.

    Iliandra settled, and said, ¡°If I had heard that from other people, I would call them a liar and a cultist. Dragons do not... apologize. This is¡­ dangerous information.¡±

    And now Iliandra was concerned for entirely new reasons. She had heard that Addavein vanished off to hide, to sleep, but she had not heard anything about an apology. An overtaxed dragon usually turned violent, not apologetic. Addashield had always been way too cunning, though. Addavein had inherited that, for sure.

    Radian¡¯s eyes were solid as he said, ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s not been spread around. It would embolden the cultists. Tell who you need to tell, but keep it quiet.¡±

    Iliandra asked the big question, ¡°Is he Addashield?¡±

    Radian breathed in, shook his head, and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

 095

    Isoko answered the door to her room and stood surprised. ¡°I, uh, put in the request for transfer, uh, 20 minutes ago?¡±

    She was not packed yet.

    Lola Turner, Inquisitor, stood with a bag of luggage at her feet. ¡°I was packed and ready to go after Mark ten minutes after hearing he was missing. I have made further decisions in the last hour. I am transferring to Memphi, and I am requesting to join the Freyalan expedition to Daihoon. David and Orissa are going as well, though they will be coming at a later date. I have a hovertram booked for me, leaving in 45 minutes. If you wish to join me, then you must be quick about it. We can discuss Union lessons on the way.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyes went wide. She rapidly bowed, saying, ¡°Yes! Thank you, Inquisitor Lola.¡± She rose. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready quickly.¡±

    Lola nodded, ever perfect, ever professional and polite. ¡°I will see you at the station then, Miss Kanno. We will discuss bandits and the like on the trip as well.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Thank you for your instruction.¡±

    Lola did the smallest Xerkonan nod and then she picked up her bag and walked away.

    Isoko shut the door and wondered why Lola was so invested in Mark¡­ Besides the obvious reasons that Mark was a True Union user and would form the center of any team he happened to be on, and the dragon was there, too¡ª

    Oh. Lola felt guilty about putting him into a coma, obviously, but the dragon had to be a part of her decision¡ª

    Isoko had no time to think about all of that. She got to packing faster. Her room was already torn up, posters in a pile, books in boxes, clothes in containers, but now she started shoving things into boxes and wrapping them fast. Everything that wasn¡¯t packed would never follow her wherever she was going next.

    She didn¡¯t even know where she was going to live.

    ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out,¡± Isoko said, over the sharp, tearing noise of packing tape, and the satisfying sticky rip of another box, sealed.

    She was moving on and she was almost ready, but not quite.

    She smiled.

    This was the best time to move on. There was just enough left undone at Citadel to have something to come back to, if she needed to come back, but most of her life was destined beyond the horizon. Isoko wanted to see that horizon, and further beyond, beyond even the impossible valleys and the tangled horizons of Endless Daihoon, too.

    She might not have inherited her grandmother¡¯s Sky Shaping, or her naming convention as a villain, but she certainly inherited her wanderlust.

    ¡°I could always get a name change as a villain, though,¡± Isoko said, as she rushed to pack away the books she cared about. Comic books went into the shipment box, along with ¡®Details of Dragons¡¯ and ¡®A History of the World, 2048-edition¡¯¡­ In fact, all of her books went into the box. She wasn¡¯t getting rid of any of them. ¡°Maybe I could be ¡®Wandering Platinum¡¯¡­ No.¡± Isoko laughed. ¡°Grandma would have to fight me if I cleaved that close to her name¡ª¡±

    Isoko stopped.

    Her heart beat hard and she radiated good and bad out into the world, though she did not have the veins in her astral body like Mark did.

    ¡°Could I beat grandma?! ¡­ Ha!¡± Isoko instantly shook her head, laughed, and told herself in a mocking voice, ¡° ¡®You¡¯re 50 years too early for that sort of tribulation, Hime-chan¡¯!¡±

    She smiled as she continued to rapidly pack.

    Gods above! Isoko could be BOTH a green-ranked Slayer, like Freyala wanted her to be, and also a supervillain in Memphi! Holy shit, this was going to be awesome¡ª

    ¡°Holy shit I¡¯m gonna be late.¡±

    Isoko prioritized.

    The next half an hour passed in a complete blur.

    Isoko was on the tram and then off the tram at the hoverport just in time to race out to the fields, to see Inquisitor Lola stepping into a very crowded hovertram. Paladins and important-looking people filled the tram. Ambassador Wavecrash, Paladin Orissa¡ª

    Holy fucking shit was that Justicar?! Lola had seen him once or twice, but it was still amazing to see one of the world¡¯s top heroes, here in the transport, sitting right up there with Ambassador Wavecrash.

    There was room for Isoko, though. Lola had her sit down next to her.

    ¡°Welcome to the tram, young paladin,¡± Lola said, grinning.

    The tram lifted off without Isoko realizing it.

    The lessons started before Isoko was ready, too.

    Lola began, ¡°Healing for the paladin is different than what Mark might have told you. It¡¯s a lot simpler. But the grafting of Freyala¡¯s Power onto the astral body always introduces small issues here and there.¡± She took out a small knife and began, ¡°This is a mithril knife. I will press it into my palm to show you where I want you to begin¡­¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    When Isoko got around to poking her own palm with the knife, there was a lot less blood than she thought there would be. Time progressed fast, and soon Isoko was distracted.

    Lola got distracted, too.

    Over in the other part of the transport, practically everyone was either talking or listening to Justicar and Ambassador Wavecrash regarding the new laws of the settlement, and how they were going to deal with dragon cultists, or dragons themselves.

    It was getting animated up there.

    Lola saw Isoko watching the brewing fight, and she quietly admitted, ¡°We can postpone the healing lessons and speak of banditry and capital punishment instead, if you wish.¡±

    Wavecrash heard and spoke up, ¡°It¡¯s going to be Settlement Doctrine, Inquisitor Lola.¡±

    Justicar complained, ¡°Settlement Doctrine isn¡¯t good enough.¡±

    Lola, who was now on the spot, politely said, ¡°Forgive me for my inquiry, but what does it mean, exactly, when the city is not a single city, but a twin city to Memphi, which has its own unique set of laws that are not related to Daihoon at all. Specifically, how is nobility treated? We don¡¯t have nobles on Earth, and for good reason. No one should be allowed direct, legal power of execution over those below them. Quizzically enough, the reasons we don¡¯t like nobles on Earth are the same sorts of reasons that Daihoon doesn¡¯t allow dragons; they take over everything.¡±

    Justicar, who was a little animated and happy to hear Lola¡¯s words, said, ¡°There we go! That¡¯s what I was getting at, Wavecrash. Thank you, Lola.¡±

    Lola gave a small nod.

    Wavecrash looked to Lola as he gave his own small nod, saying, ¡°Earthlings have a fear of higher power abuses just as Daihoonians do, but nobles and dragons cannot be equivocated in this manner. And yet, your point has merit, Inquisitor Lola.¡± He said to Justicar, ¡°Settlement Doctrine is but a stepping stone toward eventual charters that take in the positions of all neighbors, so as not to disrupt those neighbors. I imagine that a portal city charter will be quite disruptive, by its very nature, but it will also take into account the needs of both cities.¡±

    An open-ended answer, if there ever was one.

    Justicar said, ¡°Can you do better than that, Ambassador? I¡¯ve never done this settlement thing, and I¡¯m worried about dragons of all flavors and sizes, including human-shaped sizes.¡±

    Wavecrash solidly, quickly, said, ¡°Never call a person a dragon when a dragon is around, Justicar. That might insult the person most heavily, as well as offend the dragon.¡±

    Justicar strongly said, ¡°I plan on offending and killing lots of dragons both real and self-styled, Ambassador, so I am glad my words will have that effect.¡±

    Wavecrash raised an eyebrow, and then simply nodded. He continued, ¡°I imagine the laws will settle as Aluatha-derived on Daihoon and Central Cities-derived on Earth, with a transfer zone that has stricter laws than both. Possibly a combination of the most restrictive parts of both sides, with multiple checkpoints on both sides. That is how it is done in Crystal Tower, in Tokyo. It has worked well for them, so I imagine the same sort of scenario will take place with a Memphi-based portal.¡±

    That pronouncement caused a few people to relax. Isoko did not relax. She thought of home. If there was one place Isoko had never been back home, it was the transfer zone near Crystal Tower. No one went there if they could help it; people were arrested for the smallest infractions and then detained for days.

    One famous story was a dockworker who got arrested for having some imported meat on the sandwich his wife had packed in his lunch, because that imported meat was monster meat, and the wife hadn¡¯t known. The authorities had treated it as a possible attack on the transfer station, because the meat had been treated and cured to keep it magical, and so the near-living meat set off contamination alarms. Everyone thought it was ridiculous for the operation to be that high strung, but then the guy monsterized in lockup and he had to be killed.

    The wife who made the sandwich was found in her house, crushed into the basement and layered with clothes to hide her body. They had identified the body as a week dead, but the wife had been up and around, calling for her husband to be returned to her while her husband was in prison, just the previous day. She had even gotten the news involved, asking for his return.

    Isoko never heard the ending to that story, but it was a pretty famous one from years ago.

    Mostly, though, transports were normal affairs. Stuff flowed through the portal, while Glorious Man and the Crystal Teams were deployed on both sides of the Two Worlds, prepared to kill any kaiju that appeared. And the kaiju always appeared.

    Lola asked, ¡°Does anyone here have personal experience with Crystal Tower¡¯s transfer zones?¡±

    Isoko froze. And then she almost spoke up¡ª

    But some other woman spoke up, saying, ¡°I¡¯ve been through there multiple times. Someone is always getting detained either coming or going, and goods are always detained at least a full day. Nothing really happens, though everyone is always worried something might happen.¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°It is my understanding that the Central Cities have a hands-off approach to the lands outside of their city walls, and that they have a banditry problem. What issues do you foresee arising from there, Ambassador Wavecrash?¡±

    Wavecrash said, ¡°If this portal district does happen in Memphi, then undesirable elements would need to be taken in hand. Not executed, not at all, but instead rehabilitated, and possibly given blanket pardons for all offenses committed outside of the walls. Standard affair for rebuilding efforts; that sort of thing.¡±

    Lola nodded, satisfied.

    Isoko felt weird for reasons she couldn¡¯t articulate well.

    Here Lola was, riding with the big boys, asking questions and getting answers. And she had invited Isoko here onto this transport. Was Isoko supposed to be here? Not really, right? The fact that Wavecrash was the source of these answers was just a matter of course; he was an Ambassador, and those types were supposed to have solid answers that would help communication between nations. But it still felt odd for Lola to be speaking in this sort of environment.

    Justicar was right over there, after all.

    But as soon as Isoko realized she was questioning Lola¡¯s position, Isoko realized she was being foolish.

    Isoko might not be a supervillain like her grandmother, but she was a paladin of Freyala, and all of these people were either paladins or inquisitors. She had every right to be here, same as all of them. Lola did have a whole lot more seniority than her, so of course Lola was speaking with the big boys. But Lola had every right to be here. So much right.

    Isoko was missing a lot of context, and some of that context was Mark and Addavein and Lola¡¯s central position in all of that, but Isoko got enough of it to know that she was here, where she needed to be. Hanging with the big boys¡­ Even if she was off to the side and staying quiet.

    Isoko grinned at her new life.

    This was all so weird.

    It was freaking awesome.

 096

    Mark pushed off of the solid stone ground near the pool, clapped his hands, and then he fell back to a pushup, going all the way down and then explosively pushing off the ground to clap his hands again.

    He switched to one hand pushups.

    One hand pushups were harder, but he managed to do 10 on each arm, and then he balanced himself on his right hand and left leg, keeping his opposing hand and leg raised off of the ground. He struggled not to collapse on himself as he went down, but he kept himself steady, all the way to the ground, and he pushed back up.

    He wasn¡¯t even using Union yet. This was just him.

    Mark turned on Union and his heart beat with resilience and weakness, black veins scattering into the air all around him, and now it was too easy. He went down on his one-arm-one-leg pushups and then he switched, rapidly firing off a full ten one-arm-one-leg pushes. With a tilting, Mark lifted his legs off of the ground and stood on his hands to do more pushups, just on his hands.

    It was weird how much easier it was to do¡­ everything, when Union was active. Nice, of course. And Mark was even building strength even faster when he worked out with Union active. He could even do a one-handed handstand¡ª

    Mark overbalanced and almost fell, but he caught himself. He grinned. Couldn¡¯t do one-handed handstands yet!

    Not yet.

    With a casual flex, the adamantium hovering around his wrists went outward, like they were limbs he just wasn¡¯t using until now. In an even easier sort of way, Mark did ¡®pushups¡¯ with his adamantium. It was the easiest thing to do, now that he was fully acquainted with his kineticism. Soon, Mark sat cross-legged in the air, Union active and connecting him to the world as he ¡®stood¡¯ about three meters off of the ground.

    He was very careful about not chipping into the stone pool deck with his adamantium, so his ¡®feet¡¯ weren¡¯t shaped like caltrops. They were shaped like rough coins. That shape worked out well enough to distribute Mark¡¯s weight across a large enough area that he didn¡¯t dig into the stone. Mark didn¡¯t even have to pay attention to what he was doing with the adamantium right now. It was simply a part of him. Like using his own fingers, or legs, Mark stood on the adamantium, and felt¡­ normal.

    But he was hovering.

    He marveled at how he held there, in the air.

    This was amazing.

    Mark gazed out across the rolling green hills, the distant trees, and the farmlands beyond. Wind blew through his hair and across his body, bringing a chill to the sunshine. It was a good day, and Mark felt pretty secure in his Powers, and in his decision to check out Wolf Bayou, especially with Isoko joining him. Mark had asked her to come to Memphi for some Slayer quests on something of a whim, but it had rapidly turned into a whole big thing, and Mark¡¯s whim was a lot more than a whim right now. He was happy that he had asked Isoko to come over.

    He was happy with the direction of his life right now.

    Lola and Orissa and David were going to be in Memphi, too, soon enough. Those three were going to be a part of this whole ¡®sister city¡¯ thing that was rapidly developing, faster than Mark ever thought this sort of thing could develop. Eliot had only been knighted as a paladin of Hearthswell, like, two days ago. He was heading into training at Citadel Hearthswell, just south of Mexico City.

    Mark kinda wondered, since Citadel Hearthswell was right there, and the Aluatha Empire was on Daihoon on the other side of the Veil right there, why didn¡¯t they make the portal there? Eliot had rapidly shot that down in the chat, though, saying that no one wanted dragons in the heart of the Aluatha Empire, or Citadel Hearthswell.

    But Mark¡¯s casual talk of Memphi had started a big ball rolling, and now, this thing was probably going to happen here, in Memphi, and also on Daihoon, where nothing currently existed on the other side of the Veil in this area. Mark knew that they weren¡¯t making that decision on his words, of course. They were all more concerned with whatever Addavein would do, which was rather valid in Mark¡¯s opinion.

    Mark looked over to the chair where he had set Quark, his AI, and asked, ¡°Have Isoko and Lola landed yet?¡±

    ¡°They will be landing in 7 minutes. Inquisitor Lola, Justicar, Ambassador Wavecrash, and most of the people on that transport, will be meeting with the current powers of Memphi for the next few hours. Paladin Isoko will be coming here, in accordance with your invitation. There are 387 more text messages in your chat log on Accord since last you read. Most of them are from Eliot, apprising you and Isoko of the current state of the plan.¡±

    Mark grinned at that. And then he floated over and picked up his phone, to float in the air and read messages for a little while.

    Eliot had a lot to say about a lot, from details of the powerful individuals who would be spearheading the expedition, to general plans, to asking about individual desires and needs.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Mark wanted a flying castle and he said as much, but he also joked that he didn¡¯t really want one at all. Too much upkeep! ¡­ probably.

    He glanced at the time now and then. 2:38 PM. Plenty of time to get ready for his ¡®hallway meeting¡¯ with Mayor Ramirez¡ª

    Gabriel came out of the house, saying, ¡°Mark! It¡¯s almost 3 PM! How close are you to being ready?¡±

    Mark sat down on the ground, quizzically. ¡°It¡¯s only 2:40? Isoko is going to be here in¡­ Quark?¡±

    ¡°ETA 25 minutes for Isoko¡¯s arrival.¡±

    Gabriel had a determined look on his face as he said, ¡°I got a message that Ramirez is going into Alex¡¯s office an hour early. She¡¯s getting treated in 15 minutes. You need to be in that office¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Mark got down onto his feet and started rushing into the house, saying, ¡°Okay! Isoko should be here soon, though!¡±

    Gabriel calmed down as Mark ran past him. He called out after Mark, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Isoko is taken care of!¡±

    Mark called back, ¡°Thank you, Uncle Gabriel!¡±

    Mark was dressed in a flash. He was in the car and racing out of the garage in minutes.

    Ramirez was always a busy woman, but today was especially busy. Only certain people got sit-down meetings with her, and Mark wasn¡¯t one of those people. Apparently, she was going to be taking a meeting while she was even getting her de-age treatment by Uncle Alexandro. All Mark was going to get was a ¡®minute in a hallway¡¯ with her. It would probably be in the parking lot, though. Gabriel had already explained that Ramirez just wanted to know if Mark was going to be a problem, or benefit, or just a normal person.

    Mark wanted to be a benefit, of course, and this would be the chance to show that he could be that sort of person, and be given benefits in turn. Memphi didn¡¯t have a ¡®first class citizen¡¯ thing like the East Coast Union and Orange City had, so Mark wasn¡¯t sure what ¡®benefits¡¯ looked like, exactly, but Mark was pretty sure those benefits were more of the networking variety, than direct benefits.

    Mark made excellent time, driving down the well-maintained streets of Memphi, headed right to Uncle Alexandro¡¯s office. Mark had never been there but Quark gave good instructions, and soon Mark pulled through a big gate into a small parking lot at a professional building at the edge of Shady Acres. There was only one building here; a two story affair, all brutalist-shaped but with nice stone surfaces and some greenery here and there. The building was pretty much a ¡®mage tower¡¯, but without looking like a tower at all. It still only had one person working here, and if you came here, you came here to see that one person¡ª

    Just as Mark parked the car and hopped out, he heard the thrum of a hovercar overhead.

    A big silver van of a car touched down on the other side of the small parking lot.

    A big man and equally big woman stepped out of the front passenger seat, and the big side door, both of them looking young and strong and in uniform¡ª

    A short, brown-haired woman in a lavender pantsuit came out of the main cabin. She spotted Mark immediately and smiled, saying, ¡°What good timing! I¡¯m glad the note got through about the schedule change. Thanks for adjusting, Mark.¡±

    She was Mayor Emilia Ramirez, and she seemed personable.

    Mark bowed a little. ¡°Thank you for the warning of the time change.¡±

    ¡°To get right into it: What are your plans regarding these bandits you encountered?¡±

    Mark had a moment, then he solidly said, ¡°If I can find them, then I¡¯m going to ask them why they tried to kill me. I assume they will give me unsatisfactory answers, or nothing at all, and then I will have to move on with my life.¡±

    Ramirez gave no indication if that was a good answer or not, she simply moved on to the next question, asking, ¡°What do you think about Wolf Bayou?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea why such a place is allowed to exist.¡±

    It was only after he spoke those words that Mark realized he was talking to the woman responsible for making the decision to ignore Wolf Bayou, and to allow Redwolf her kingdom outside of Memphi. Mark had directly called Emilia¡¯s competency into question.

    For a moment, Mark was ready to be embarrassed, but he decided, instead, to stand firm.

    Ramirez smirked for some reason; Mark could not say. ¡°Go visit and find out why. If you manage to find the people who tried to kill you, and if they give you satisfactory answers, I empower you to extend to them an offer of clemency on behalf of Memphi. I¡¯ll throw them into jail for rehabilitation, and if they do their year, then they¡¯ll be free to be citizens of Memphi again. It was nice meeting you, Mark.¡±

    She walked toward Alexandro¡¯s office.

    Alexandro was already standing by the open double doors with Inquisitor Willow flanking him. They both bowed¡ª

    Oh!

    Mark rapidly bowed toward Ramirez¡¯s departing form.

    And then one of Ramirez¡¯s people, the big man, held out four white coins, saying, ¡°Here.¡±

    Mark¡­ took the coins? Sure?

    The man said, ¡°Clemency tokens. They¡¯re simple plastic and useless on their own, but they do draw Mayor Ramirez¡¯s attention when you wave them in front of a street camera. Those four have already been inscribed with some small details about this meeting. Give them to the people you think deserve them. You will be judged based on who you give them to, if anyone.¡±

    With that proclamation delivered, The man walked toward Ramirez, who had already gone inside the building with Uncle Alexandro and Inquisitor Willow. The big woman stayed with the Mayor¡¯s hovervan.

    ¡­ And Mark was dismissed, he supposed.

    Mark slowly got back in the car, marveling that his ¡®hallway meeting¡¯ really had been that short.

 097

    Mark stepped into the third floor hallway and saw Isoko standing there, between rooms, wearing a bath towel and with her hair done up in another towel.

    Isoko grinned as she saw him. She instantly teased, ¡° ¡®You¡¯re not some super rich person, are you?¡¯ ¡±

    That was one of the first things Mark had said to Isoko, after that first Etiquette Class.

    Mark smiled. ¡°I am not rich! I had no idea my uncles were until just the other day. I really should have put a few things together faster, back then, like when you spoke of your grandmother kidnapping a True Healer and how I had heard my uncle was a True Healer before.¡±

    Isoko laughed, and then she walked into her guest room, apparently across the hall from Mark. ¡°I¡¯ll be out in a bit!¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡± Mark went to his own room and checked on his email and his messages in the meantime¡ª

    Isoko was suddenly there, fully dressed, by his door, saying, ¡°You lost everything when you got summoned to Daihoon, yeah? Do we need to go get a new Slayer badge and junk?¡±

    Mark looked up at Isoko, and paused. She was wearing a silver breastplate over a bright white shirt, simple cargo shorts, and ass-kicking boots. Mark got a weirdly proud feeling as he looked at her, in her paladin gear. He smiled, saying, ¡°That breastplate looks good on you, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows went up as her face turned a little red. And then she grinned a whole lot and spun around, showing off, saying, ¡°It does look good, doesn¡¯t it!¡± She chuckled and stopped, adding, ¡°I need to consider a villain costume. I¡¯m thinking I¡¯ll ditch the breastplate and get a feathered tiara to show allegiance to Freyala and the whole ¡®princess¡¯ vibe.¡± And then she walked out of the room, saying, ¡°Now get dressed! I want to hit the road soon and you still need your badge, yes?¡±

    Mark was still in his good clothes, but he could be ready rather fast. He started changing, calling through the open door, ¡°I do need my badge! But we¡¯re really going this fast?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m ready! Aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I suppose... I am?¡±

    But was he? Soon, he¡¯d be meeting bandits, even if they weren¡¯t the ones who attacked him¡­ Probably. Wolf Bayou was filled with exiled people¡­ but not all exiles were bandits, right? Most of them were just people¡­ But you didn¡¯t get exiled unless you did something wrong.

    Maybe he wasn¡¯t as ready to confront bandits as he thought he was.

    Mark pulled on his webweave, his tough jeans, and the tough shirt. He grabbed his phone and shoved it into his backpack along with a few other essentials, and then he stared at the white tokens that he had gotten from Ramirez. The white tokens went into the bag. With the bag over his back, Mark exited his room.

    Isoko wore her own backpack. ¡°Is that webweave showing under your collar! Are you rich or something?¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°I need to say bye to my uncles¡ª Er. Just Gabriel, I guess¡­ But I¡¯ll be back soon. Sorry I wasn¡¯t here to greet you and introduce you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad to be here. The other option was the barracks, and I did not want that. Gabriel seems nice, too! He already offered to put me up long term here, but you and I will be moving on to this expedition when the time comes, yes?¡±

    Mark got excited, saying, ¡°I want to live in a flying castle.¡±

    Isoko laughed wonderfully. ¡°Me, too!¡± She added, ¡°But those things are death traps for anyone who can¡¯t fly.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll simply have to get you a flying belt! I think I need one, too, in order to fly at any great height.¡±

    Isoko looked charmed as she smiled softly. ¡°That¡¯s going to be one of my first big purchases. The cheapest models are 50,000 goldleaf, but I think the expedition will hand them out to whoever distinguishes themselves well enough. So that¡¯s my first goal. The Slayer missions up till then will be to get some money of my own that I can spend with the support for stuff that isn¡¯t covered. Entertainment, magical training, stuff like that.¡±

    Mark felt suddenly secured upon hearing Isoko¡¯s idea in person.

    Mark had always had a vague sort of idea of joining a settlement expedition, of making some new place his new home for a while. Even before he got his Powers, he had wanted to do something like this. And now, he was.

    He needed to stock up on resources, too, before they left.

    Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s my plan, too.¡±

    Isoko smirked. ¡°While you¡¯re figuring out who tried to murder you, and then confront them about it.¡±

    ¡°As well as that; yes.¡±

    Isoko lost her smile. She said, ¡°Inquisitor Lola and I didn¡¯t get to talk much about bandits because everyone was talking about the settlement situation, but I know how to handle bandits. Since we have healing powers, we beat the ever loving shit out of them, heal them, and then beat them again. Repeat as necessary until they promise to change their ways. And then, we drag them before the city and hand them over and never think about them ever again.¡±

    ¡­ Okay. That was a bit darker than Mark wanted to go.

    Mark felt odd about Isoko¡¯s solution¡­ but it felt right? A little bit?

    Just beat them up and hand them over to the authorities¡ª

    Oh.

    Wait.

    ¡°They¡¯re exiles,¡± Mark said. ¡°They might not be accepted into the city. I got some clemency tokens from Mayor Ramirez, though. I don¡¯t know what they mean, exactly, but I can give them the tokens if I think they¡¯re worthy of redemption, or something like that, and they can do a year in a rehabilitative jail and regain citizenship. So normally you can¡¯t handle bandit exiles over to a city¡­ I don¡¯t know what you do with a normal bandit exile. Just give them some help and tell them to stop attacking people, maybe.¡±

    Isoko looked at Mark. She blinked a few times.

    Mark was about to ask her what was wrong¡ª

    Isoko asked, point blank, ¡°You want to be a monster slayer, or a justice-person, Mark? Deciding who lives and dies based on your view of the world?¡±

    Mark felt a chill. ¡°A monster slayer, of course, but I¡¯m doing this whole thing to help other people. I¡¯m never killing anyone.¡± He asked, ¡°Why do you want to kill monsters?¡±

    Isoko had a moment, and then she almost said something, but she walked down the hallway, saying, ¡°Let¡¯s spend the night in the wilds.¡±

    Oh? What¡¯s this?

    A vulnerability?

    Didn¡¯t seem like a dangerous vulnerability, though, so Mark caught up, his voice a little higher as he teased, ¡°Why do you want to kill monsters, Isoko?¡±

    Isoko rushed down the stairs. ¡°To make lots of money and have excitement and other good things!¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°Untrue!¡±

    Isoko suddenly stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned to Mark, and said, ¡°I have a sister who should have survived the Tutorial, but she never came home. That was 5 years ago. Even if Riku ended up on Daihoon instead of coming back to Earth, 5 years is enough time to get back to us.

    ¡°So Riku is dead. I accepted this a while ago.

    ¡°But Addavein spoke of a two-layered mythology just the other week, of the elves of Endless Daihoon and their resurrection magics. And so¡­ Before I met you and everything about this weirdness of this new chapter in life, my real answer to ¡®what do I want out of life¡¯ would have been making money and having excitement and all the good things out of life. But now I have a more solid goal¡­ Maybe.¡± Softly, Isoko shrugged, then said, ¡°Maybe¡­ I can resurrect my sister. Doubtful, but¡­ Maybe.¡±

    Mark felt a lot of funny, good emotions, at that moment. He liked that Isoko was telling him a big truth like that. He liked it a lot. Because, truthfully¡­

    ¡°I wanted to never think about that stuff because he wrote it off as a total scattershot in the dark,¡± Mark said, ¡°But I also want to know if resurrecting my own parents is possible. I¡¯ll go on that trip with you.¡±

    Isoko smiled softly. ¡°Maybe maybe.¡±

    A moment passed with Isoko standing there on the second floor landing, and Mark standing beside her.

    And then Isoko continued down the stairs.

    They ran into Gabriel near the door as though he had known to wait for them there, and maybe he had known to wait for them there.

    Gabriel gave Mark a hug, saying, ¡°Good luck out there. Do you want me to take you in the hovercar somewhere to start? Inside the city, I mean. I can drop you off anywhere you want.¡±

    Mark smiled on Gabriel¡¯s shoulder, saying, ¡°We¡¯re good. We¡¯ll walk out and take the tram. And I¡¯ll see you soon enough. Alexandro, too! This is just a week-long journey. I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    Gabriel pulled away, grinning. ¡°You¡¯ll need a real costume soon, Mark. Alex and I want to help when you¡¯re ready for that.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°I thought you guys like the heroes more than the villains.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll make exceptions for you,¡± Gabriel said, happily. And then he turned to Isoko and said, ¡°We¡¯ll help you with your costume, too, if you wish.¡±

    Isoko bowed a little, and said, ¡°Thank you for the kind offer, but my family is already excited about helping me to make my costume when I pass all the courses for villain training.¡±

    Oh yeah! She still had to do all of that, didn¡¯t she, Mark thought.

    They had excused Mark from those necessities of training.

    ¡°Of course, of course¡­¡± Gabriel said, ¡°Good luck with those bandits, Mark.¡±

    Mark grinned a little, though it might have been a wince. He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯ll be what it¡¯ll be.¡±

    And then he left, feeling odd.

    Isoko walked beside him, but then she started jogging, her skin turning a bit platinum as she said, ¡°Time to go!¡±

    Mark raced to catch up, and soon found himself needing to Union with resilience and weakness to stay alongside her. She was faster than before.

    ¡°You¡¯re faster!¡±

    ¡°I am!¡± Isoko said, laughing.

    She outran Mark, easily, under the boughs of big trees, sunlight scattering through leaves and dancing upon her platinum skin. And then Mark cheated, his adamantium coins coming out and giving him four ¡®legs¡¯, instead of two, propelling him to speed.

    Isoko ran faster, saying, ¡°Good! I was hoping you could keep up!¡±

    Mark smiled. He was still using coins to move here, on his Uncles¡¯ driveway, because he didn¡¯t want to ruin the driveway with little marks here and there. The coin-shape allowed for slippage and so it wasn¡¯t nearly as fast as caltrops, but caltrops tore at stone and everything else they touched. At that thought, Mark wondered about Isoko¡¯s increased weight in her Platinum Form.

    And then he noticed that Isoko¡¯s racing wasn¡¯t causing a lot of noise at all. She was stepping really lightly¡ª

    Ah. No. She wasn¡¯t stepping lightly at all. She was stepping really heavily, actually.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Isoko wasn¡¯t pounding down through the concrete with her increased weight, and her shoes were doing fine, because every time she touched the ground the ground flickered with platinum. Every step was a platinum flicker across the ground, and her boots. She was doing some Tactile Telekinesis with her clothes as well as her footsteps, so that she didn¡¯t ruin what she wore and to support her own weight.

    And she was doing it routinely. Strongly.

    She had grown a lot, and she was probably holding back.

    ¡°You can go a lot faster than this, can¡¯t you?¡± Mark asked, surprised.

    Isoko grinned, but then she slowed down and her platinum body faded away. They had reached the road. Mark walked alongside her, his coins vanishing back under the hems of his pants, and under his shirt sleeves. The tram was only a ten minute walk from here, so they walked.

    Without any stressful breathing at all, Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m still getting the hang of it, but yeah. I can get a surprising amount of traction and even a bit of extra speed if I¡¯m focused on the direction. My modifier is up to 2.4 times baseline, and the deep scans at Citadel say I have a speed modifier now, too. Only 1.2 times speed, but 20% more speed is a lot, Mark.¡± She held up a hand and platinum flashed across her body. ¡°I¡¯m getting the hang of it and I think¡­ I think Platinum Body is a lot stronger than I thought it was.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°And it¡¯s pretty.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna get all the sponsorships!¡±

    ¡°Oh my god! That¡¯s right! They wanted me to go on that¡­ whatever track it was with the Villain Program. You know¡­ ¡®Biglight¡¯? ...No. That wasn¡¯t it.¡±

    Isoko looked away as she hummed, and said, ¡°Spotlight track.¡±

    ¡°Yes! You need to go into the spotlight track, too! We can be on the spotlight track together!¡± Mark smiled wide. ¡°I¡¯ll be your henchman.¡±

    Isoko had a weird moment. She froze. She turned back toward Mark and blinked, and then, in a delightful sort of way, her lips curved up, her eyes seemed to glitter, and she held back her head and laughed wonderfully. ¡°Thanks but no thanks!¡±

    Mark¡¯s face fell. ¡°What! Why not?¡±

    ¡°We can be on a team, Mark. No leaders or followers at all.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Well yeah. That works, too¡­ But don¡¯t supervillains usually work alone?¡±

    ¡°Oh oh oh!¡± With a haughty sort of demeanor, Isoko asked, ¡°You¡¯re shooting all the way to the top, are you?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said, without reservation. ¡°I don¡¯t want to break into banks or shit like that. But I¡¯m okay with having a lair that people have to assault. I want a flying castle, Isoko. It¡¯s probably a terrible thing to have and use, but I want one anyway. For at least a weekend, before it crashes into the ground.¡±

    Isoko grinned wide. And then she started jogging. She wasn¡¯t using her Powers, but she was running some, so Mark ran beside her.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat out the faintest black lines, mostly hidden beneath his shirt. No baseline looking would notice them, and that was all it took to adhere to Curtain Protocol.

    Isoko spoke of monsters, and Mark did, too.

    Soon, they made it to the tram, talking about monsters out there in the wilds of Memphi, in a tram that didn¡¯t have many people at all. But there were some. Talking of monsters in public was fine, as long as you didn¡¯t get too specific with Powers and capabilities. Mark spoke of fighting the big hydraturtle, though, asking what Isoko would have done differently.

    ¡°Run away and get someone else to take care of it,¡± Isoko said, easily and quickly. ¡°I saw some of the things you said about it online. If it took you 15 minutes to kill while you ran away the whole time, then it is too much for me.¡±

    ¡°Okay well¡­ Yeah. Valid.¡±

    Isoko chuckled.

    In a now-crowded tram, Mark and Isoko stepped out onto Northeast Rivergate Station, which was just south of the Northeast Rivergate. The place was a massive ¡®town square¡¯ like space, with a bunch of hunter shops all over the place. Guildhouses abounded in the district, and offices for Inquisitors and the police held beside each other on the inside of the gate. No restaurants, but there were lots of shops that sold backpacks filled with food to eat out there in the wilds.

    The gate itself looked even more impressive from this side, with a wide, low slope of stairs that led up to a bunch of individual gates that went straight through the big wall. Those individual gates, each twice the size of a Giant Strength-type brawny, could be opened or closed at will. One massive, giant slab of black metal, on chains, held right above the individual gates, like a bar stretched across the entire thing. That bar could be lowered rather easily to block off the gates.

    It was all kind of intimidating, and there were thousands of people hanging around a giant preparation area at the base of the stairs. A few fountains burbled here and there and people were dipping water out of those fountains, securing the water inside canteens. Most people were coming back into the city, down the stairs and into the square, and looking worse for the wear. Injuries wrapped with bandages, broken shields that were probably repairable, armor that was going to be trashed as soon as taking it off wouldn¡¯t leave a guy nude. Some people were getting ready to go out. Those people looked pristine, yet rugged.

    Some people even wore costume gear, but probably only because their costume gear was either easy to repair because of their Talents, or strong as all heck, due to the material makeup.

    Mark saw two guys wielding giant-as-fuck swords over their shoulders and laughing with each other as they walked into the city. At that specific moment, that¡¯s when Mark felt really good about going out, into the wilds, to kill shit.

    As they walked to the Slayer¡¯s gate-side office, Isoko mentioned, ¡°I¡¯m so ready for this.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°Me too!¡ª Wait. You have no weapon?¡±

    Isoko laughed as they got into line. ¡°I¡¯m a brawny! I can pick up an appropriately-shaped stick and use it like a sword.¡±

    A few people were looking at them, at Mark¡¯s civilian-like clothes and at Isoko¡¯s paladin breastplate, but most people focused on Isoko rapidly and instantly. Not many people were in line for the Slayer station; most were waiting to the sides, for people in line to get their badges remade up front.

    One guy to the side spoke up, ¡°You two new around here? You¡¯re looking for a group? We have openings for a healer.¡±

    Without missing a beat, Isoko said to the guy, ¡°We¡¯re gunning for bandits and headed toward Wolf Bayou, killing monsters along the way. I imagine that is not a popular thing to do.¡±

    The guy instantly reevaluated everything. He tipped his head, saluted with his fingers, and backed away, saying, ¡°Never mind, ma¡¯am. Good luck.¡±

    A lot of people interested in Isoko all decided not to be interested.

    But one woman behind Mark and Isoko said, ¡°They give out free wooden swords for TT-use in a little shop by the right of the gate. They¡¯re all based on models the shop sells.¡±

    Isoko bowed a little, being completely professional as she said, ¡°Thank you so much! We¡¯ll give them a look.¡±

    The woman smiled a little. ¡°I hope you get whoever you¡¯re going after. I haven¡¯t heard much of a bandit problem, though.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°It¡¯s more of an attempted murder thing we¡¯re going after. They might have just been bandits by opportunity.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Ohhhhh¡­¡± She nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Mark felt people hone in on them at the mention of bandits. He didn¡¯t feel anyone¡¯s attention-vectors turn into ¡®kill kill kill¡¯ though, so he ignored his Unionsense for the most part.

    But at the woman¡¯s comment, Mark asked her, ¡°That happen a lot? Attempted murder and theft of goods?¡±

    ¡°Some people are just fucking stupid,¡± the woman said, waving a hand.

    A few people nodded at that comment.

    Mark didn¡¯t know what to make of that, so he just nodded along with the others.

    Mark had reached the front of the line, so he walked up to one of four different bank-teller-like booths. A servitor floated on the other side and a black dome-like device sat on the counter between the servitor and Mark. Mark had seen what the other people in line had done already, so he knew about what to do. The servitor spoke instructions anyway.

    ¡°Place your hand on the truthstone and state your name and birthday if you wish to receive a new Slayer badge. If you wish for a route in line with your badge, then ask for one.¡±

    Mark put his hand on the stone, saying, ¡°Mark Careed, May 3rd, 2030. Got a route headed toward Wolf Bayou?¡±

    A little slot to the side of the truthstone flickered with red light and a hexagon of faux mana crystal popped out of the slot. It was black with red lines on the edges. On a slot on the other side of the black dome, a sheet of paper printed out.

    ¡°Please take your badge and requested route, Mark Careed. There are no red routes headed toward Wolf Bayou, but if you can make it to Wolf Bayou and come back, then you will have passed a basic Red advancement test, and will be advanced to Orange. Crossovers safe for red-ranked Slayers are at the towers, just outside of the gate. Next!¡±

    With his badge secured, Mark walked outward. He had meant to say thanks to the woman who had spoken to them in line, but she was already getting her badge remade over there, as well. Isoko walked with Mark outside.

    Isoko fended off 4 more requests for a party before the two of them got to the little shop giving away free sword-shaped bits of wood. Isoko got a simple meter-length thing with an edge that was quite sharp. The shopkeep said that it would keep an edge for a day on its own, as long as it wasn¡¯t actually used. A Brawny had to Tactile Telekinesis on the stick if they wanted that edge to remain strong.

    Isoko thanked him for his product and flashed it platinum, to check the edge. She cut a finger a little, and pronounced, ¡°Oh! That¡¯ sharp!¡±

    The shopkeep laughed. ¡°We got real swords, too! Those keep edges a lot longer. My Talent is Sharpening. If you bring me a sword that needs sharpening then it¡¯s 5 goldleaf per sharpening.¡± She pointed to the sign over her that said the same thing, as she passed her other hand over a customer¡¯s silver sword, and the silver sword turned a lot sharper. Mark didn¡¯t see the guy pay, but he assumed he did, and the shopkeep wished him luck.

    Soon enough, Mark and Isoko got through the gate, to the other side.

    In the open air, walking down the stairs beyond the Northeast Rivergate, Mark teased Isoko, ¡°Look how popular you are! That breastplate really does send a signal.¡±

    Isoko laughed.

    They hit the packed ground and sparse grasses beyond the gate¡¯s staircase and started jogging north, with all the people, to get to the ¡®crossover that was safe for Red ranks¡¯. That space was at the towers that popped up here and there across the Mississippi. Soon, they arrived at a wide, brightly-lit tunnel that went under the river. People walked or ran in or out of that tunnel. The tunnel was divided into lanes; slow people and speedsters, it looked like.

    Isoko paused at the descent, because some big ships plowed out of the giant bubblewall that screened the Mississippi. Those ships gathered bubbles like a child would pack bathtub bubbles onto their face, to make a ¡®beard¡¯, but these Mississippi bubbles turned the whole ship invisible. Isoko stared, wide-eyed, at the casual display of grand magics.

    Mark smiled, saying, ¡°Want to sit and watch for a while? Part of hunting is seeing the sights.¡±

    Isoko breathed deep and seemed happy. Then she shook her head, saying, ¡°Nope! I want to kill monsters and make money. The completion quest you got for a trip to Wolf Bayou is worth how much?¡±

    Mark pulled the paper out of a pocket to look at it. He put it back away, saying, ¡°Looks like 500 goldleaf.¡±

    ¡°So 250 for me. That¡¯s less than a real kill quest, but¡­ That¡¯s fine? I need to get upgraded past Red anyway. The bandits were on this coast, though, right? The east coast? Wolf Bayou is on the west side. Are we using the tunnel? Or not?¡±

    Mark looked up north, toward the wide Mississippi, and the land on this side of the river. Then he looked back to the tunnel. He made a decision. ¡°There is no way those guys are scoping out the same place they failed to kill me. They moved, for sure.¡±

    ¡°You never know. They could still be there, waiting for someone else to walk by with millions in goldleaf floating around them.¡±

    ¡°Ehhhh! I don¡¯t need to find them directly.¡± Mark started walking down the tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s go to Wolf Bayou.¡±

    Isoko was right there with him, whispering, ¡°So you¡¯ve noticed the people looking at us, right? Do you think any of them have scanners for goldleaf, too?¡±

    Mark had noticed everyone looking at them, but he had disregarded most of what he noticed, because no one was out to kill him.

    Some people out there definitely had scanners, though. Those people got real startled when their scanners went off as they looked at Mark.

    ¡°Some people have noticed us, yes, and some people have scanners, too.¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow. ¡°You see people with scanners?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Uh. Not that¡­ Hmmm.¡± Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can, but I know that I can use Union to sense¡­ sort of like¡­ directional vectors on people. I think I¡¯m sensing their intent, or purpose, or sense of direction in life at that moment, or something. It¡¯s not really the physical direction they¡¯re going, but there is a lot of that going on, too. Mostly, I can tell the vector that a person is pointed in, when they¡¯re near me. So, yeah, I noticed everyone so far. None of them seemed dangerous, but¡­ Some people back there had the instinctive reaction to kill me, but no real desire to kill me. Others were more¡­ a desire to get close? Those ones I noticed the most. And the greed. I noticed the greed a lot. Mostly though, people noticed you.¡±

    Isoko walked with Mark, thinking deeply. Her vector wildly focused on Mark, and then on herself, and then on Mark, and then forward, and then on that guy over there who raced through the tunnel on the speedster track, moving fast as a blur and then vanishing behind them, back up into the sun. And then she actually looked to Mark.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel anything.¡± Isoko shrugged, adding, ¡°I didn¡¯t get the full Talent. I can certainly keep Platinum Body up and running full time now, though!¡±

    ¡°Glad for that, but I think you got enough of Union to get this part, too. ¡®Seeing¡¯ ¡®vectors¡¯ might be the base nature of the magic itself. When you use Union, you tie together various things in a Union, and then you decide what goes where in that Union. You didn¡¯t get formless Union. Instead you were given, like, like, several hammers, or however you want to envision the specific tools of your Powers, and the hammers can certainly hammer, but they also have an innate form, and they¡¯re an extension of your body. Simply by having a hammer at all you should be able to get a feel for how they¡­ you know¡­ feel?¡±

    Isoko frowned a little.

    Mark tried to think¡ª ¡°Oh! Proprioception! The feeling of understanding where your body is, and where it is not. You should have an innate proprioception of your Union ¡®hammers¡¯.¡±

    Isoko was fine for a moment, and then she walked slower, her vector going in every direction, her heart beating and connecting to Mark, and then to everyone else in the tunnel, and then beyond¡ª

    Suddenly, Isoko¡¯s vector was everywhere, pointed in every direction, and then her vector snapped. She slapped back into herself, faltering a little, but Mark was there, holding her up, smiling.

    ¡°¡­ Huh,¡± Isoko said, her mind back inside her head, as she gripped Mark¡¯s hand.

    Mark recalled his own first expansion, when he had been sitting there with Lola in Healing Club, watching the brawnies down below do their thing. Had Lola seen Mark ¡®expand and contract¡¯ like Mark had just seen Isoko expand and contract? Perhaps.

    Isoko might have a godly graft of power attached to her astral body, but it was still her astral body. She still stressed herself to a limit she had not known before now.

    Isoko breathed deep, pulling in good from the world, and then breathing out bad, steadying herself as she blinked. ¡°I read about Union... Never read about hammers and vectors, but sure, that works.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad my shitty explanation could help!¡±

    Isoko scoffed and walked on her own, saying, ¡°It was a good explanation, Mark.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Do you have the vectors of understanding yet?¡±

    ¡°Not at all! But I will eventually.¡±

    Mark was sure she would, too.

 098

    The path through the wilds to Wolf Bayou was a theoretically straightforward path.

    Mark expected complications to arise in the form of monsters. Of bats that shot lasers, or rabbits that unfurled into gaping maws of teeth and stomach acid. That would all still happen, for sure, but the first complications came in the form of other people. Honestly, Mark should have expected that most of all.

    Mark and Isoko jogged through the linking tunnel that ran below the Mississippi river, connecting the eastern shore to the western shore outside of the walls of Memphi. The tunnel was kinda crowded at this hour. A lot of people were going home, and the night guard was moving out. Getting through the tunnel itself was a straightforward affair, but foot traffic slowed down and Mark heard people yelling up ahead, but then traffic resumed.

    Mark never found out what the problem was up ahead.

    The tunnel itself was rather unremarkable. It looked like someone had simply used some stoneshaping Powers to drill a hole through the ground and then reinforce it here and there, while some other people had installed some glowing rocks in the sides of the tunnels, and the ceiling. Maybe the same person, actually. Probably part of a team of rock shapers. Cities had a lot of those on call, all the time.

    People saw Mark and Isoko, and some of them had scanners that went wild on Mark, and some people looked at him funny, their eyes going wide in recognition, or some other emotion that was too obtuse to properly understand at a glance. Most people looked at Isoko, though, with her silver breastplate that was clearly Freyalan in design, and they wanted her as a healer on their team.

    Isoko got propositioned for a teammate slot twice in the trip underneath the Mississippi River. She said ¡®no¡¯, both times, though some people did ask for some healing and they got that healing. Just some cuts and bruises; nothing special.

    The two of them made it out the other side of the tunnel soon enough, into the open air on the western bank of the Mississippi. That¡¯s when they encountered their first real snag on the ¡®easy trip through the wilds¡¯. The setup over here was pretty much the same as the setup on the other side, with a big gate with multiple smaller gates in the wall, and a well-beaten series of footpath roads that led out into the wilds to the north. Mark barely got to look around before there was an ¡®emergency¡¯.

    Some guys were running down those footpaths, toward the city. One woman with a group of 5, 2 women 3 men, spotted Mark and Isoko, or rather, they spotted Isoko¡¯s breastplate.

    ¡°There¡¯s a healer! Holy shit¡ª Can you cleanse infections?¡± The woman got right into it, coming over, saying, ¡°We¡¯ve got an infection we¡¯re controlling. We need it purged.¡± She gestured to a man behind her with his hand wrapped around his stomach. He was clutching severed leather armor. The woman said, ¡°It¡¯s some sort of egg-thing. Plant-based, we think. Can you do it?¡±

    Based on their vector states, Mark believed them. The guy with the infection had some sort of weirdness to his own vector states, and not just in his belly, like a bunch of worms pointed in other directions, but also in his left arm, under his bracers. Another woman in the group had something weird going on with her own vector states on the back of her right leg. It was like each person was a single vector, mostly pulling toward Isoko and a little bit to Mark, wondering who he was to have a healer with him, and then they dismissed Mark, but their smaller, foreign vectors were all over the place, and mainly focused on the person they were attached to and trying to quietly eat.

    It was not a pleasant set of experiences to feel. Mark bet it felt worse for the afflicted, for sure.

    Isoko quickly said, ¡°I¡¯m not that qualified. He is.¡±

    Mark was on it.

    He connected himself and Isoko to the entire group of five people and experienced multiple things in that moment. Connecting to Isoko was different this time. It was a lot nicer, actually. Before, when Mark had gone onto his training mission with Isoko and Eliot, connecting to them had been like connecting to any normal person. But now, with Isoko being a part of the Chosen System, with a Union of her own, connecting to her was like connecting to the people in Healing Club. Instead of reaching out and touching Isoko, he reached out and grabbed hands with her.

    Isoko jolted a little. She had felt that, too.

    She reached back to Mark, and ¡®held his hand¡¯ as well. She had some experience with what Mark had just done, then? That was good.

    Mark focused on healing the party. His heart beat hard, black veins flickering into the air all around him, pulling in resilience and purging weakness. He breathed in purity and breathed out impurity, and soon, the team was both worried, looking at Mark and wondering what he was doing, while soon feeling good. Their shoulders relaxed. Their muscles untensed. All of them had small health issues right now, probably due to spending all their healing items and single-use magics on healing the infected, but Mark was better than a single-use item. He healed them all, fast enough.

    ¡°Oh wow,¡± said the guy holding his stomach. He chuckled a bit as he breathed out, ¡°That¡¯s so much better. Thank you.¡±

    The extra vectors inside of the team, and inside their clothes, vanished quickly, but not because of Mark. Mark¡¯s purity/impurity purge only got rid of the putrescence or necrosis that the worms were doing, he was sure. The worms themselves were still there, unable to be cleansed away that quickly. They were living things, after all, and Mark was not going to be purging away living things unless he was sure he was killing what needed to be killed.

    And yet, the worms started dying anyway, or maybe purity/impurity made them weaker enough for the infected guy¡¯s body to kill them? Maybe the guy had taken some antiparasitic meds, and those were finally working?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure about anything that was happening right now, but he knew that if he continued on this slow healing path, that they¡¯d all be fine soon enough.

    But to try and diagnose what he was seeing, Mark asked the guy, ¡°You a brawny? You¡¯re clearing up faster than I expected.¡±

    Brawnies healed really easily, as soon as they got any healing at all. Even basic parasites were no match for them. Maybe that¡¯s what was happening. The guy looked pretty normal, with light armor, a sword at his right hip and a gun in a holster on his left hip.

    The guy said, ¡°Basic Brawn, yes sir. Fuck, that feels so much better.¡±

    Mark smiled a little, glad he had been right. He said, ¡°Glad I could help. You have something under your bracer there, too, but it¡¯s weakening. You still need to take that off and clean it up.¡±

    The man got a concerned look to him, and then he pulled off his bracer. Some worms and eggs fell out and the guy freaked out a little. The other people in their group almost said something to him¡ª

    But Mark looked to the other woman in the group, saying, ¡°You have something stuck to the back of your leg¡ª No. Other one. Yup. Right there.¡±

    The woman pulled off her outer leather armor instantly, cursing as she revealed a gathering of worms and eggs in a big cut in her armor. ¡°Fuck! When did those¡ª Oh fuck.¡± She showed her backside to one of her partners, scraping away the worms and eggs even as she, asked, ¡°Did they get through the webweave?¡±

    The first woman poked at the back of the other woman¡¯s legs, saying, ¡°No¡­? No. Doesn¡¯t look like any cuts in the weave.¡±

    The other woman chuckled. ¡°Oh thank the gods.¡±

    A different guy on their team smiled as he said, ¡°With as much as we paid for this shit it should be good against worm burrowing.¡±

    The team began to talk among themselves about their encounter with some ¡®worm pigs¡¯ which were, as far as Mark could tell, feral pigs that were infested with some symbiotic worms. As the dead and dying worms inside of the first guy flaked away into impurity, cast off into the air, into the world, they scraped off and stomped on the living ones, and then those ones vanished into the miasma as well. Soon the team was fully clean.

    ¡°Thank you so much, again!¡± said the guy who had had the worms in his guts. ¡°I didn¡¯t think they had gored me that deep, but I guess they had. The skin just fucking healed over it too fast... Oh! Why aren¡¯t you wearing a breastplate, too? You¡¯re a healer too, right? You two need a team?¡±

    The woman who had spoken first, spoke again, smiling wide. ¡°We have 5, but we could do 7!¡±

    ¡°No thank you,¡± Isoko said, ¡°We¡¯re out here on a mission to hunt bandits, who might have simply been opportunistic almost-killers.¡± As the team of 5 all jolted at that, Isoko continued, ¡°Do you know of an older woman Mind Controller, a younger woman Ice Shaper, and a pair of 28-ish year old men who might be a Mesmer and a Brawny?¡±

    The five people kinda all had a moment.

    The newly-uninfected man frowned a little, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone like that. Sorry. Thanks for the healing, though.¡±

    The others had similar small words of non-knowing.

    Mark smiled professionally, saying, ¡°Thanks anyway. Good luck hunting.¡±

    The team of five got going, but at a much slower speed now that they were done with their emergency.

    Mark and Isoko attempted to walk north.

    They got stopped by another team that needed healing almost right away.

    Mark and Isoko ended up stopping several more times, either individuals or teams experiencing emergencies in the shape of this, that, or another thing. All of them had been racing toward Memphi to get healing at some station just beyond the big gate, but when they saw Isoko out there, they asked her first. Mark and Isoko dealt with broken bones. One guy had a medical patch on his stomach that held his guts inside, but Mark and Isoko healed that problem perfectly. One person was just the upper half of a body, strapped into a backpack, carried by another. That half-body dude was already healing, but really damned slowly, so it wasn¡¯t an emergency to get him back to Memphi too fast.

    As Isoko healed the half-there guy, Mark stood with the partner who had been carrying him. Mark looked down as a spine regrew in a sploosh of blood and viscera, followed by slowly spooling guts. A liver came next and the guy¡¯s arm regrew.

    As the guy¡¯s first finger came into being he scratched his forehead and nose and then his stomach and chest, moaning in comfort as more and more fingers joined the scratching. He gurgled out words that Mark eventually recognized as, ¡°Fucking hell, the itching is the worst part.¡±

    Mark stared at the whole event happening on the ground, and he never stopped staring. It was so fucking morbid, but the guy wasn¡¯t in any real pain¡­ Maybe?

    Mark asked, ¡°You¡¯re not in pain?¡±

    The guy laughed, his insides flexing on the bare ground as he gurgled, ¡°Ain¡¯t no way! I¡¯m on them good pain meds! Pain meds are cheap as fuck!¡±

    The guy¡¯s partner scoffed. ¡°This bastard is just a fucking regenerator so he¡ª¡± The guy spoke loudly down at his friend, ¡°¡ªHe thinks that means he can get up close and personal with the big ones.¡±

    The guy waved a regrowing hand, dismissive¡ª He gasped as his insides passed a pain threshold, or something, and he grinned, his voice turning more normal and understandable as he said, ¡°Ohhh! That¡¯s so much better. Thank you, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Isoko was focused on healing, but she managed to nod a little.

    The guy¡¯s partner scoffed again. ¡°I¡¯d say he deserves the pain, but I always carry around an extra pain inhibitor for occasions like this, and he saved my life today, so I can¡¯t really fault him¡­ Much.¡± He looked to Isoko, saying, ¡°Thank you for healing the idiot. Mom hates it when he gets hurt like this.¡±

    Isoko nodded again, still focused on her breath and her heartbeat to heal the guy. She was doing this one all her own because she wanted to stretch herself, but Mark felt like he should step in to help soon.

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    ¡°Brothers, then?¡± Mark asked, watching as the guy¡¯s pelvis started to regrow, as his skin started to stretch down onto that regrowing pelvis.

    ¡°We are!¡± said the regenerator¡ª The guy stared at his brother. ¡°Don¡¯t tell mom.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t about to!¡±

    The guys talked amongst themselves.

    To the side, Mark asked Isoko, ¡°You doing good?¡±

    Isoko nodded, tersely, as she managed to say, ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±

    Mark saw her struggling, but healing this guy here was just about throughput, and not about doing anything special at all.

    Soon enough the guy was able to put on pants, so he did, and Isoko looked to Mark with a small need in her visage.

    Mark stepped in, helping Isoko finish off the healing, and Isoko breathed easier.

    With freshly regrown feet sticking out of basic brown pants, the guy stood up under his own power, and soon he was walking by himself, with his older brother at his side, softly yelling at him. The guy thanked Isoko again, and the brother did, too. Soon, Mark and Isoko waved goodbye and headed north, to the intersection of a dozen different roads.

    Was there going to be another delay?

    Maybe, maybe not.

    A great big sign awaited them in the center of the dirt roads that led off into the wilds. The roads were labeled from Route NW-1 to NW-12, with Route NW-1 labeled twice, since it was the return route for many of the others, with the return route between NW-9 and NW-10. Mark had seen a similar setup on the other side of the Mississippi, at the Northeastern Rivergate.

    All of these routes were just the starter routes to a hundred smaller trails all throughout the wilds, all across the entire northwestern quadrant of the lands outside of Memphi. The roads had lengths between 50 miles, and 250 miles, with those 250-mile-routes seeming to be the most prevalent of the routes. They crisscrossed and meandered out there. Most of the trails between the roads were unmarked and warned to be full of monsters. Among the warning signs was a sign that requested people make new trails if they could, for the wilds would grow to 100 meter tall trees and truly dangerous lands if Memphi let them get that bad.

    ¡®Burn the forest if you can! You probably can¡¯t.¡¯

    Mark said, ¡°So I think we start¡ª¡±

    Mark felt a flash of someone¡¯s vector slam into Isoko, who was standing beside him.

    ¡°Hi. Sorry. Are you a healer, ma¡¯am?¡± said some guy, walking this way, currently bleeding from a bunch of bandages wrapped around his legs and side. His team stood behind him. Two guys were holding a stretcher with a woman laid out on that stretcher. ¡°Sorry to impose. We have some wounded, and we know we could go to the healing center beyond the wall, but¡ª¡±

    Isoko looked kinda worn out and anxious even as the guy was talking.

    Mark cut off the guy¡¯s request, saying, ¡°I got it.¡± He pulsed with healing, black veins extending into the air. The veins didn¡¯t extend all the way to the group of wounded, but his astral body did. In a few heartbeats the people holding up the stretcher, and the woman on the stretcher, were all looking better.

    The man who had spoken first smiled a little. ¡°Thank you so much!¡±

    Mark conversationally asked, ¡°What¡¯d you run into out there?¡±

    The first man grinned, saying, ¡°Cat-types. They literally just appeared out of fucking nowhere. Probably a Veil-slip. Damned unlucky of us. That was 70 miles ago, and the injuries weren¡¯t so bad, but they took out our scouter. Broke the damned thing, even though it was made out of tier 3 materials. I think the alchemical silver batch went bad¡ª¡±

    ¡°It was a fucking tier 5 cat, Gerald!¡± The woman on the stretcher was sitting up now. ¡°The silver batch was perfectly fine¡­¡± She sighed out, breathing deep and feeling better, as she said, ¡°And they were sparkle seekers. Of course they went after the shiny silver scouter.¡± She grunted in slight pain as she started standing up.

    Gerald, the first guy, rolled his eyes and dropped the topic.

    Soon, those guys walked on.

    Isoko and Mark were left staring down several roads.

    Route NW-11 was the road they wanted; the one directly to the left of 12.

    Route NW-12 went northward alongside the Mississippi, at about 200 meters west of the river, before the road curved off to the west at around 50 miles down the way. Route NW-12 was a mirror to Route NE-1, on the other side of the Mississippi. When Mark was coming back to civilization, if he would have jaunted about 200 meters to the east, he might have seen and walked back home on Route NE-1, instead of what he had done, which was following the river and hitting all of those monsters on the coast.

    They wanted Route NW-11 because that¡¯s what their route calculator had said¡­ Hmm.

    Mark looked past the sign, to the land¡­ It was like a parade ground. Everything was trampled to sand and dirt, with small bits of grass here and there. This close to the gate, there were no clear roads to take.

    But there were signs on poles indicating routes.

    Isoko looked at a pole down the way that read Route NW-11, saying, ¡°That¡¯s the one, right?¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡± Mark said, as he started walking that way. Isoko walked with him, and Mark said, ¡°So I didn¡¯t expect to be asked to heal out here, but I guess you did. I completely forgot that breastplate¡¯d healers were basically advertising that they were healers.¡±

    Isoko smiled a little, looking away before she turned back, saying, ¡°It was nice to heal people. Nicer than I thought it would be, actually.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°It was, wasn¡¯t it!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I need to practice more because that took a lot out of me, but¡­¡± Her voice trailed off as she looked northward.

    People were coming into Memphi, carrying loot in bags on their backs, with blood and viscera on their clothes and smiles on their faces. The sky was gold and the road ahead was mostly dirt and green. Night was a few hours away, but Isoko and Mark could make it all the way to Wolf Bayou by tonight if they wanted to make it; if they ran. Both of them were fine with camping out in the wilds, though, and both of them were looking forward to doing just that. Unless they were harried by monsters, then they had plans to carve out some place for themselves and rest when it got too dark.

    But tonight was supposed to be a good night to be in the wilds! Lots of moonlight.

    The clouds were a bit thick overhead, though. Maybe they¡¯d clear away?

    Most people coming out of the wilds were coming down Route NW-1 and NW-12. They were done with their week in the woods, or their few days, or however long they had been out there. It was easy to see the relief on a lot of the faces of the people, as they looked up past the tree line to see the wall of Memphi looming above the greenery.

    Isoko had a grip on the handle of her wooden sword, smiling as she said, ¡°I¡¯m finally out in the wilds, like a real hunter. A real ryoshi. I¡¯m so fucking excited, Mark!¡± She said to Mark, ¡°You need a breastplate, though, because I¡¯m not healing every single case that comes our way.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°No way to grow stronger if you don¡¯t do the work.¡±

    ¡°Ha ha,¡± Isoko sarcastically said, then she said¡ª She paused. She went, ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°... What?¡±

    ¡°I, uh, just realized¡ª¡± Isoko ordered her thoughts, then kept walking. ¡°Okay. So. I was told that under the Chosen System, and as long as I¡¯m presenting like a healer, which means the breastplate, that I need to heal anyone who comes to me with obvious problems, as long as other duties are not more pressing. Technically, we¡¯re on a mission and there¡¯s a healer station just beyond the gate back there, so none of those people actually needed my help. But I was told that I needed to heal people if they came to me like that, and I¡¯m glad to do it, and that I should expect requests like that all the time, as long as I¡¯m wearing the breastplate.

    ¡°However.

    ¡°You are not in the Chosen System, so¡­ I think they should have paid you or¡­ something. You¡¯re a private healer. Not a paladin who has accepted the capabilities and the duties to heal others.¡±

    Mark went, ¡°Oh.¡± And then he waved a hand, saying, ¡°I¡¯m not accepting money for healing people, but¡­ Do you want more of my help to fulfill your own duties?¡±

    Isoko thought for a second, then said, ¡°Some would be good, I think. The throughput on that regenerator case was a problem. How did you do it so easily? Was it just a matter of knowing the right way to hit the problem, or¡­ or what did you do back there?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°He was a regenerator, which is something I didn¡¯t really know existed, so his biggest issue was a throughput problem, as you identified. To solve that you had his astral body that was supporting his regeneration, which needed to be supported, which is what I did with a Union of Blood for resilience/weakness, to make his astral body stronger¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes. Did that,¡± Isoko said, nodding.

    ¡°¡ªBut he probably has some sort of nutritional needs, as well. So while I did a resilience/weakness Union of Blood, I also did a sustenance/deprivation Union of Breath, and that made the whole thing a lot smoother.¡±

    Isoko had a dawning expression of ¡®duh¡¯ on her face, as she said, ¡°Ahhh, fuck. I should have¡ª I wasn¡¯t doing the sustenance thing at all.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get much time at Healer Club, right?¡±

    ¡°A few days is all. All of the lessons are online, but actual experience is missing. I don¡¯t have Union of Life, either, but you didn¡¯t use that one?¡±

    ¡°I did; just a flash for purity/impurity in order to clean him up.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever tried purity/impurity against a monster? Designating them as completely impure?¡±

    Mark paused, not sure how to tackle this issue, directly. ¡°I did, just a bit, but I also don¡¯t want to purposefully use purity/impurity to kill things. I used to clean up the worm mess, mainly, and allow the body to attack the worms directly.

    ¡°I have an idea of what purity/impurity means and I want to focus on that meaning instead of ruining the meaning by designating certain living things as impure.

    ¡°My mother¡­ Mom had a cleansing magic that she gained from a year in arcanaeum. I¡¯m not sure how Union purity/impurity works, exactly, but I think it works along the same lines, and Mom ended up with some odd sideways-magics when she worked her cleansing. I used to think that moths had gotten into all of my clothes when I was younger, but nope! It was Mom, accidentally cleansing holes into my clothes because she pushed too deep with the magic¡­ Or something. I wanted to ask her about what her specific issues were, but I never got the chance.

    ¡°I have talked to Lola about this very same issue, though, and she has said that purposefully staying away from living things as a purity/impurity target is a good limit to that magic.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°¡­ Huh. That¡¯s probably a good lesson, yeah.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°So do you really want to spend the night in the wilds? Or are we running?¡±

    They were maybe a half a kilometer from the gate. The other roads had peeled off left and right, while up ahead were signs designating this dirt path as Route NW-11, and with a list of mile/kilometer markers indicating distances to other roads and paths. They wanted to get off of this road about 100 miles north of Memphi¡­

    Mark paused at the final signs before the parade grounds turned into roads leading into the wilds.

    The one for Route NW-12 had a small sign underneath it that read ¡®Wolf Bayou and assorted Exile Settlements¡¯.

    ¡­ Shit. Were they on the wrong road? Were the directions Mark had picked up wrong?

    Isoko noticed the sign, too.

    ¡°Why do we want to take Route NW-11?¡± Mark asked.

    Isoko hummed.

    Mark pulled out his phone and Quark flickered silver on the screen, as Mark asked, ¡°How do you get to Wolf Bayou from here?¡±

    Quark spoke in a plain male voice, ¡°The road to Wolf Bayou does not exist, but most people headed out of Northwest Rivergate would take Route NW-12 up to mile marker 90 and then cut off north into the wilds. Then you walk another 17 miles before you reach Wolf Bayou, which is rather visible in the dark and in the daytime. Wolf Bayou often clears a road between NW-12 and itself, and there is a big tower in the woods at that location, indicating the turn off.¡±

    Isoko turned right.

    Mark quietly thanked Quark and put the phone back into his backpack as he followed Isoko, toward NW-12 instead of NW-11.

    Soon, they passed under the first trees of the route¡ª

    A vector appeared directly above Isoko and a slime dropped directly onto Isoko¡¯s head, but she turned full platinum and she ripped the offensive thing off of her head.

    Mark paused.

    Isoko said, ¡°So I guess that¡¯s on me. They say not to walk under trees without looking up, but I did it anyway.¡±

    Some guys walking nearby chuckled.

    One of them called out, ¡°You can be a part of our team! We¡¯ll protect you from the slimes!¡±

    Isoko smiled and said, ¡°No thanks!¡±

    Isoko was doing a purity/impurity on herself, but Mark flashed a Union of Brain, instantly evaporating the problem, making sure her backpack didn¡¯t degrade. Isoko paused. ¡°Ah. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see them either.¡±

    ¡°Not even with your vector sense?¡± Isoko said, as she swiped her wooden sword ¡ªwhich flashed platinum¡ª through another drop slime that had been almost-invisibly clinging to the underside of a low branch. The slime splattered as she struck its semi-solid core, killing it. ¡°I can¡¯t get any sense of vectors yet, but I can tell something is there.¡±

    ¡°Ambush monsters,¡± Mark said, and then when that wasn¡¯t enough for Isoko to understand, he said, ¡°They¡¯re not directed attacks. They¡¯re attacks that are triggered by proximity.¡± Mark grabbed a big, fallen stick with some adamantium and then floated it forward, smacking trees in their path. Slimes just started dropping, and when they hit nothing, they crawled back over to the trees and climbed them again. They were slow about it, but they were there. ¡°See?¡±

    ¡°Ahhh! So I don¡¯t feel bad about not sensing them yet.¡±

 099

    Mark and Isoko walked alone along the dirt and sand road, under the bright blue sky.

    They saw people far ahead of them, and also far behind, but mostly they were alone. Just them, and about five meters worth of space from the forest on both sides of the path.

    They healed a few people, running fast toward Memphi, but mostly they walked forward, making decent-ish time.

    There weren¡¯t many monsters, but then there was a surprise. An alligator appeared out of the right-side forest, growling and rumbling as it charged some guys who were walking south, and who were too close to the forest for comfort.

    It attacked, rushing forward, jaws wide open and held sideways, like a clapping trap that would have swallowed a man whole. The men it targeted were prepared, though.

    The first guy reacted fast enough. He took out a small handle-thing from his belt and swung it at the alligator like he was striking with an invisible sword. The alligator faltered in its charge, turning sleepy, and from a dark green color to something lighter, almost greyish. It splayed out on the ground and the invisible-sword guy jumped over the crashing body. The alligator landed at the feet of the other guy, who bunched his fists and started wailing on the alligator, punching through its skull and killing it fast enough.

    Mark and Isoko watched for a moment as the brawny punched the gator to death. Soon the guy stood up from the dead monster, lined up his foot, and kicked the thing. The gator went flying into the woods. Trees broke as the almost-ton monster crashed into the greenery, sending sharp cracks into the air, both from the breaking body and from the breaking branches.

    The brawny and the invisi-sword guy walked on. They nodded to Mark and Isoko as they passed, and Mark and Isoko nodded back.

    That had been exciting!

    When they were far enough away from the pair of guys, Isoko quietly exclaimed out of the side of her mouth, ¡°Oh my gods what do you think the invisible sword was? It had to be a tech weapon, right?¡±

    ¡°It was shiny, so maybe. Could have been an artifact, too. It didn¡¯t really put the monster to sleep, but it drained it of¡­ of whatever. Vitality? Same sort of effect?¡± Mark glanced backward. The two guys were just walking along, talking about this or that. Punchy-guy was clearly a brawny, based on the punching, but the invisible sword guy was¡­ unknown. He had on the same sorts of clothes as the other guy, but he did have a few shiny baubles on his body here and there; his sword holster, and sword, his shoulder pads which were kinda dark silver, and his boots which were some sort of shimmery purple, or something. Mark faced forward, saying, ¡°Tinkerer, maybe. Has on a bunch of small things that look incongruent.¡±

    Isoko faced forward, too, adding, ¡°Magic Tinker. Maybe even a mage. That¡¯s a good combo for a 2 person team; one mage with a bunch of tricks and one brawny to beat the shit out of a downed monster.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good point about the duo¡­ What do you think people are thinking about us?¡±

    Isoko burst out laughing. This route didn¡¯t have many people on it, so there was no one to look their way; not right now, anyway. Isoko said, ¡°We¡¯re just a poor little healer and her big brawny guardian, out for a stroll.¡± She looked up at Mark. ¡°A Poison Body Brawny, too. Very deadly.¡±

    Isoko had called out Mark¡¯s skill as Poison Body the first time they had met in the sparring arena, which had been offensive since no normal person would use such a deadly Talent in a friendly match. Mark had reacted with offense back then.

    This time, Mark scoffed. ¡°I am very deadly, thank you for noticing.¡±

    Isoko laughed and then started jogging.

    Mark kept up until Isoko started barreling down the road, going faster than he could keep up, so Mark started cheating with his adamantium caltrops, flying alongside her, smiling a little.

    Without missing a beat, Isoko said, ¡°If you don¡¯t keep running and working out your real body, you¡¯re in for a terrible old age!¡±

    Mark laughed and started running with his actual feet¡­ Mostly. ¡°I¡¯m not going to waste away! I¡¯ve been working out without using my powers just as much as I had before!¡± And he had Healthy Body, but he didn¡¯t comment on that.

    Isoko smiled. She ran faster.

    Mark kept up, but he had to ¡®cheat¡¯ more and more as Isoko really hit her stride.

    The ground flickered platinum with every step under Isoko¡¯s boots, her skin a mirror finish, reflecting all the gold of the sky and the green and brown of the forest all around. Mark saw himself in the side of her grinning cheek, though it was more of a funhouse-mirror sort of sight than any real reflection.

    She was having fun.

    Mark was having a blast.

    Not five miles from the city, when the road began to turn to little more than a grassy path in the wilds and Mark and Isoko had left other people behind, an alligator jumped out of the woods, all hissing and roaring, to ambush Mark. Isoko flashed platinum, rapidly angling away from the beast, while Mark reacted with a scalpel of adamantium, drawing the black weapon across the monster¡¯s neck. It was like sticking a sharp finger into particularly dense gelatin. The alligator died as Mark separated its head from its body, its roar of the hunt turning into a whimper of death. Mark used his other bits of adamantium to grab onto the monster and fully arrest its charge, and then he ripped the head off of the monster.

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    Blood pooled out of the severed stump.

    The head tried to snap together in Mark¡¯s adamantine grip, but it failed to do more than injure itself further in its death bites.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Isoko said, as she held her sword toward the ground, to the side. Then she put her sword away. ¡°You killed that thing fast.¡±

    ¡°I killed a few of them before when I was running to Memphi after getting summoned. Those ones buried themselves in the dirt of the riverbank, though, and acted like ambushers.¡± Mark lined up his boot at the side of the body, to punt the monster into the woods like he had seen the other guy do¡­ But the body was at least 2 meters long, with another 2 meters of thick tail, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure if he had enough strength to kick the thing. ¡°I guess they¡¯re more active when they¡¯re not actively waiting for prey to fall into their mouths?¡±

    Mark stared at the body, trying to decide if he wanted to break his foot trying to kick it into the woods, or not.

    He tried to kick the monster into the woods.

    It did not work. It was like kicking a pile of very heavy trash; the trash didn¡¯t move at all. Good news: he did not break his foot!

    Isoko chuckled. ¡°Let me try.¡±

    Mark backed up. ¡°Go for it.¡±

    Isoko kicked and the alligator¡¯s body flopped half over before coming right back down. Isoko paused. And then Isoko tried again. She tried a few times, but the beast must have weighed at least 750 kilos. It was as big as a cow, after all.

    ¡°¡­ Well shit,¡± Isoko eventually said, stopping. ¡°That other guy must have been a really fucking strong brawny.¡±

    Mark grabbed the monster with some wraps of adamantium and cut into it a bit, before he spread his adamantium out some more to give a better surface area connection. He strained, but not overmuch, as he stabilized himself with other spikes of adamantium in the ground. With an astral strain, Mark heaved the body into the woods.

    The gator slapped against a tree and tumbled right back down, almost back onto the road.

    Mark nudged it into the woods some, saying to Isoko, ¡°I¡¯ll let you get the next one.¡±

    Isoko chuckled, and then she looked at the sky. Night was maybe an hour away. ¡°So we run until we feel like stopping? Maybe a few hours?¡±

    ¡°Sure. And then we can set up and sleep for a few hours. I¡¯ll watch over you, and you watch over me. Maybe around midnight?¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡±

    They ran.

    The number of people on the road was not much. That number rapidly decreased as Mark and Isoko ate up the kilometers, traveling down the gently-winding, grassy road. Most people on the road had already headed off into the woods to kill monsters, or they were a lot faster and further than Mark and Isoko. Or at least that¡¯s what Mark thought was happening.

    Monster attacks on the road increased with the decrease in people. Mostly, they were unremarkable attacks, and Mark and Isoko simply killed the things and moved on. Rabbits turned to meat blenders and got blendered themselves. Snails shot bolts of fire and got stabbed for their attempted attack. Easy stuff.

    Some incidents required thought, though.

    Cat-like things jumped out of trees to sail their way with claws outstretched, ready to grab, back legs ready to rend. They were shaped more like frogs than cats, with slick skin and no fur at all, but they were cat-types since the main threat was lurking in the trees, ready to pounce. Isoko drew her sword through the frog that attacked her, splitting it into half and stepping through the gore to kill the one crawling up from the grasses. Mark killed another two that tried to get him, drawing his adamantium blade through their forms, punching through skulls and bursting brains before he grabbed bones with his adamantium and tossed the frogs away. A few flicks of adamantium tossed the rest of the bodies into the woods¡­

    And Mark heard growling and crunching on the bodies, as uncertain vectors aimed his way.

    Mark had heard those crunches before, but not nearly this close. Something was in the woods.

    Mark did not advance, and the crunching continued.

    Isoko grabbed the slimy skin of her own assailants, wrapping platinum fingers around limbs, before she sent the bodies into the woods, directly at the sounds of crunching in the dark. Something roared with complaint, and then it went back to eating.

    Isoko asked, ¡°We killing whatever that is?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s not hostile¡­ It¡¯s probably a scavenger monster. Scavengers are plentiful around hunter trails, aren¡¯t they? I read something about that.¡±

    ¡°I read the same thing, but¡­ they have a tendency to turn dependent and hungry for people eventually.¡± Isoko looked at Mark. ¡°Which is why I think we should kill it.¡±

    Mark hummed, and then he stepped into the woods¡ª

    Instantly, the crunching stopped. The unseen monster went completely silent as it vanished from all of Mark¡¯s senses. Perhaps it didn¡¯t actually go silent at all, since its vector was gone. Perhaps it blinked away?

    Mark stopped. He stepped back out of the woods.

    Isoko asked, ¡°¡­ It¡¯s gone?¡±

    ¡°Feels like it.¡±

    ¡°Will we see it again, you think?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea.¡±

    The sky was deep purple with the oncoming night. Fireflies danced in the air, like gentle yellow, white, and dimly blue glows. Monsters prowled in the dark, eating each other, procreating, and sometimes slipping through the Veil, coming to Earth from Daihoon and rippling the foundation of reality in their passing. The air smelled of blood and forest.

    Perhaps, if Mark had no ability to scout monsters at all, and if he was unfamiliar with these wilds, then he might have been scared. But he could see well enough in the dark, for the clouds were rather thin overhead, and he could Union-sense just fine. There were things out there, looking for easy meals. But they weren¡¯t looking at Mark or Isoko with hunger.

    Mark turned to Isoko. ¡°Can you see enough? I think the clouds are getting thicker.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°It¡¯s not that dark.¡±

 100

    ¡°Okay,¡± Isoko said, as they walked through the dark woods. ¡°It¡¯s really fucking dark now.¡±

    Mark laughed, his voice echoing in the chittering, buzzing night¡ª

    And then some vector from the side, small and terribly hungry, slipped through the trees and aimed right at Mark. It was the size of a baseball and Mark could only react, putting his adamantium into the way of the whatever-it-was. The thing crashed into Mark¡¯s blades, squeaked, and blood or something like it splattered on Mark¡¯s face.

    Mark slashed down at the thing, sending it to the ground, making sure to grab and kill every part of it. It crunched under Mark¡¯s black metal, like¡­ like an exoskeleton, maybe?

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s a bug,¡± Mark said, poking at the thing with his adamantium, feeling it in the dark. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s a bug. A smaller version of the one that tried to take your head ten minutes ago, I think.¡± Mark flicked the monster into the woods, sending it deep into the shrubbery. It landed somewhere out of sight, which was not very far. ¡°I can¡¯t see shit.¡±

    Something began lightly crunching on the bug¡¯s body.

    Mark and Isoko both said, ¡°It¡¯s back.¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Mark said, as Isoko went, ¡°Oh yeah.¡±

    Mark could barely see Isoko. The sky was black, the moon barely visible behind some deep clouds. Memphi was far to the south; far enough that the ambient glows were nearly gone. There was absolutely nothing out here. Not a damned thing.

    Except for the monsters.

    Isoko said, ¡°So I vastly underestimated the number of monsters out in the wilds, and now we have head-charging bugs. Let¡¯s stop?¡±

    Mark agreed, and yet, there were a whole bunch of different ways to stop for the night.

    Mark said, ¡°I kinda want to go until we see other people and then hang out with some strangers out here, rather than us two alone in the woods together. I feel like any plan we make should go in that sort of direction.¡±

    ¡°We could build a fire and camp out right here? Get some people coming to our ¡®tent¡¯?¡± Isoko added, ¡°If that¡¯s how this works.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ve read of a bunch of different ways. We¡¯re in a known clearance territory, so if we build a defended fire then we should attract anyone out there in the woods, but even us talking like this probably has a few people out there with long range senses feeling us out, checking to see if we¡¯re monsters. Now if we were in an actual exploration zone, then we¡¯d never go out in the woods like this; we¡¯d have a full team and we would have stopped for the night about an hour ago. But we¡¯re here, where it¡¯s safe enough to just¡­ build a fire and watch people show up. Or, we can go until we see other people around fires.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡­ Except for all the bugs chirping, the birds making noise, and the monsters in the woods making weirder noises here and there, in the distance.

    ¡°We¡¯re still on the main road?¡± Isoko shuffled around a little. ¡°Right?¡±

    ¡°I could take out the GPS and check?¡±

    ¡°Nope! Let¡¯s just start a fire and see what happens.¡± Isoko walked over to the woods, to the side of the path. Deadfall crushed under her feet as she sliced her sword through some undergrowth. ¡°Here¡¯s good, yeah?¡±

    Mark began clearing the woods with Isoko, blades flying through young trees, as he said, ¡°Seems good to me. You want to start the fire, or do you want me?¡±

    ¡°I would actually like some proper light sooner, rather than later, so can you do it?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely!¡± Mark felt around for a big enough tree¡ª

    Something tried to attack him, aiming at him with a desire to ¡®KILL KILL!¡¯, hissing loudly, fangs snapping in the dark. Mark slapped it aside and then tore it apart, whatever it was. He tossed it into the woods and went right back to chopping a tree into pieces. Soon, he drilled his metal into a long bit of wood and then spun it fast, twisting the metal as he turned the inside of the trunk to wood pulp. It was a wet tree, but with enough heat anything could burn. The tree trunk, all meter-long of it, simply took some extra time to get flames roaring out of holes Mark had drilled inside.

    Soon, light returned in flickers and glows, and Isoko¡¯s skin reflected it like a mirror. She was shivering a little in the dark, but she calmed when the light came back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll drive some spikes into the ground to use as a backing,¡± Isoko said, ¡°If you can carve them into shape for me?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing.

    Soon, the two of them were sitting on a big log that Mark had carved out of a tree, a fire glowing in front of them, tree branches, like spikes, driven into the ground behind them by a good 4 meters. The short wall of tree spikes was just so that they could have a kinda-wall in one direction. It was a pretty decent campground, made all the more presentable by Mark shaving down shrubbery and trees and piling all of it into a pile, into a bonfire.

    The bonfire soon roared into the night sky. It was smokey and hot, and Mark luxuriated in the warmth of it all while he purified the smoke from reaching him. Isoko did, too, her entire body still fully platinum, her heart beating with resilience and weakness, just like Mark¡¯s. Isoko¡¯s face relaxed, but her Power did not.

    By the time they had gotten to that point with the fire, Mark had killed four beasts, two of them wolf-types, and the other two cat-types that had tried to pounce down from the trees. Isoko had killed ten, eagerly flashing her temporarily-platinum wooden sword through various monstrous bodies. They had kicked those bodies into the deep darkness far away from the fire, and though the monster out there had vanished a few times, it had come back a few more times.

    Bones crunched in the black of deep night, the monster unwilling to allow itself to be seen¡ª

    Suddenly, the crunching stopped.

    ¡°It stopped again,¡± Isosko said, as she looked around. She frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t sense any monsters yet¡­ Not at all, actually. I thought I got the last ones¡­ Mmm.¡±

    Mark was already Unionsensing whatever was out there and he got three impressions of vectors pointed at the fire, and then off to the side, to Mark and Isoko. Something was watching them from the dark, making decisions. They had been walking this way for a minute, according to what Mark had been seeing out there, but a lot of things were circling the camp right now.

    Isoko had asked Mark not to point them out until they became a problem; she wanted to test herself, as well.

    But these three were a problem¡­ maybe.

    Mark said, ¡°I think these ones are people.¡±

    The three vectors were coming from the south, from Memphi¡¯s direction, and they were now fully focused on Mark, as he named them as much as he could.

    Mark asked Isoko, ¡°Can you tell where they are?¡±

    Isoko shook her head. She stood up, though, and called out, ¡°Hello, to the hunters! Come share the fire, if you wish!¡±

    Some unknown woman¡¯s voice called out from the north, though she was at the south, ¡°You two are barely 25 miles from the city and you¡¯re stopping for the night?¡±

    Isoko paused. She glanced northward, looked confused, but decided to speak toward the north anyway, saying, ¡°It¡¯s a lot darker out here than we thought! I expected moonlight; not endless cloud cover.¡±

    Isoko was looking north, but the vector of her attention was focused south, east, and west; every direction that wasn¡¯t north.

    Some male voice from the south called out, ¡°What¡¯s a fucking healer doing out here with just one guy? Are you two fucking idiots, or something?¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a lover¡¯s outing,¡± said another woman¡¯s voice, at the south, as she stepped into the light, smiling. She was mousy, wearing all-black maybe-leather armor, her helmet in her hands. ¡°Hi there! I¡¯m Sherry, and it¡¯s a really dark night. We got stopped from going further, too.¡± She hooked her helmet to her belt and she pulled around her backpack, saying, ¡°I got hotdogs to grill on sticks if you want some!¡±

    Another woman, taller and darker and in similarly black gear as Sherry, stepped out of the dark, beside a man who could have passed as a brother for either woman.

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m Isoko, a Paladin of Freyala, so there¡¯s no need to break into your food rations if you don¡¯t want to. We¡¯ve got sustenance going. Mark over here is doing the bulk of that, if you want to partake.¡±

    Mark smiled as he stood up. ¡°You guys hungry?¡±

    The guy was frowning as he took off his helmet, saying, ¡°You two have some sort of fucking deathwish or some shit? Being out here with a major fire?¡± He thumbed at himself. ¡°Jed. Brawny. Hitter.¡±

    The taller woman hooked her helmet to her belt as she said, ¡°Cindy. Air Shaper. Scout.¡±

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    Mark wasn¡¯t quite familiar with those methods of identifying oneself, so he played along as best as he could, saying, ¡°Mark. Metalshaper and Union. Scout and hitter.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Isoko. Brawny hitter and Union.¡±

    Sherry happily put away her hot dogs, smiling as she said, ¡°And I¡¯m Sherry! Drainer; versatile hitter. And we would gladly take you up on your offers of sustenance.¡±

    Her smile did not reach her eyes; she was still wary.

    Mark connected the three of them to the world, breathing in sustenance and deprivation as he hit them with a braindance of purity/impurity to clean them of whatever they might have going on, and then he began beating in time to their hearts a dance of resilience and weakness. He turned off the Union of Brain and watched as the three new people each jolted a little, probably feeling comfortable, as he offered, ¡°Want me to carve you up some stools to sit on? Isoko is providing clarity of thought so the body doesn¡¯t really need to sleep.¡±

    Sherry relaxed, her smile turning genuine as she happily said, ¡°Well aren¡¯t you just some nice people! It¡¯s so nice to meet nice people. I will happily take a stool. Thank you so much!¡±

    Mark smiled a little as he carved a tree into makeshift stools. He cut off branches and canopy and threw those pieces into the fire, sending up a fountain of sparks into the air and blossoming heat into the night. It felt good. And then Mark got carving onto the trunk. Rapidly, Mark ended up with a few 2-foot long sections. He took each section, which was about a foot wide, and carved the bottoms so they had three prongs, so it sat level wherever it got placed, and then he leveled the top, turning them into somewhat-comfortable seats.

    All of that took less than five minutes.

    The team of three watched the whole time.

    Mark sat the new seats about four meters away from Mark and Isoko¡¯s own bench seating¡ª

    Sherry asked, ¡°Are you two looking for a team? Because we¡¯re headed north and then west, aiming at a 250 mile trip. We do one round trip a month. A week in the woods nets us each 1,200 goldleaf a piece! We could hit up big targets with you two on our side, though, and go after a 2.5k goal every month. Easy money~¡±

    ¡°Thank you, but no thank you,¡± Isoko said, ¡°We¡¯re here to pursue some bandits who might have just been some opportunistic thieves. We¡¯re headed up to Wolf Bayou for the investigation.¡±

    Sherry, Jed, and Cindy, got a concerned look to them¡ª

    Sherry recovered fastest, smiling wide and sitting down on one of the stools, saying, ¡°Well that¡¯s a plum shame, but good luck on your own hunt. I ain¡¯t never heard of bandits around here, but I have heard of a lot of desperate exiled folks.¡±

    Jed grumbled, ¡°There were bandits a few years ago. I heard the city watch drove them all away.¡± He took a seat, frowning at Mark and Isoko. ¡°You two are taking a lot of risks. You two actually Inquisitors?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°They want Mark to be one of those, but I¡¯m not headed in that direction.¡±

    Sherry, Jed, and Cindy all focused on Mark.

    Mark grinned a little. ¡°Not an Inquisitor yet¡­ It still freaks me out that people would hurt other people. I don¡¯t want anything to do with any of that.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s a good thing!¡± Sherry said, smiling. It looked like a real smile this time, too. ¡°Are you two really not interested in a teamup?¡±

    ¡°No thank you,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°No thanks,¡± Mark said.

    Sherry nodded. ¡°I had to ask again. So! That¡¯s enough questions for me. From the looks of things, you two are completely new around here, aren¡¯t you? But you have no fear of the dark, which means you¡¯re strong, and with a goal like hunting opportunistic killers, then I¡¯d certainly believe that. Me and my sister and brother have been around this place a long time. This is year 11 we¡¯ve been doing this. So how can we help you do what you need to do around here?¡±

    Mark felt at ease.

    Isoko probably felt the same way, for a tension in her shoulders vanished, and her vector calmed down.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯d love to know what you three know about Wolf Bayou. I heard it¡¯s a fucked up place, with the leader being some sort of Daihoonian Queen? A contemporary of the God of War and Murder, Drakarok, when he was still just a guy?¡± Mark saw Jed roll his eyes some, while Cindy relaxed on to her chair and Sherry looked like she was waiting for a moment to speak. Mark would have said more, but there was a new problem. Mark added, ¡°Just one second, though. There¡¯s¡ª That. Yes. You see it. I got frontal attack.¡±

    Eyes glowed in the woods to the side, small and vibrant yellow, belonging to a good four wolves that were prowling in the dark, circling the fire, aiming for the humans by the fire.

    Mark hopped through the air, directly at the problem, traversing 10 meters of distance in a single second. Two wolves went directly for him, maws open all across their bodies, eyes glowing all down their backs. Malformations; not exactly ¡®wolves¡¯. The other two malformation wolves circled to the side, going after Isoko. Mark killed his two enemies and Isoko killed a third, while Sherry turned the fourth into a husk of dried skin and bone. Soon enough, Jed tossed the dried malformation into the fire where it caught flame instantly and burned, while Mark flicked the other three bodies into the dark woods. Cindy enveloped the fire in wind, keeping the smoke away from them as they all sat back down.

    Sherry began, ¡°So that¡¯s some impressive metalwork.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Mark said. ¡°Where was I¡ª Oh yeah. Wolf Bayou. What¡¯s it li¡ª¡±

    Something started crunching on the dead malformations in the dark.

    The three guests looked at the dark. They didn¡¯t seem too nervous, but they were cautious.

    Mark looked at the dark, too.

    Isoko said, ¡°We have no idea what sort of monster is making that noise in the dark. We went after it a few times, but it goes away when we get close.¡±

    Mark had been about to say something along those lines. Isoko had gotten there first, so Mark asked, ¡°What is it? Do you know?¡±

    The three guests seemed to relax a little as Isoko spoke, and Mark asked his question.

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I know what it is,¡± Sherry said, as she glanced to Cindy. Cindy nodded. Sherry said to Mark and Isoko, ¡°It¡¯s a dark eater. They do exactly what that thing is doing; eating in the dark. The people who have seen one say that they look like snails with the shell, but it¡¯s more like a tentacle beast that has a shell, and the shell is some sort of ¡®invisible dark¡¯. That¡¯s what the mages I¡¯ve met tell me about them. If you can capture one then they sell for a lot of money, but you need special Talents to do that. They¡¯re not harmless at all. They will eat you if you present as a target, but as long as you¡¯re not already dead, then you¡¯re not a target.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°So we don¡¯t need to worry about them?¡±

    ¡°Usually not, but I wouldn¡¯t get comfortable,¡± Sherry said.

    ¡°It¡¯s fucking unnerving,¡± Jed said, ¡°I hate the fucking things.¡±

    Sherry cheerfully said, ¡°They follow people and eat the corpses they leave behind. You don¡¯t see much of them beyond the rivers and other bodies of water because they¡¯re aquatic things most of the time. They¡¯re really quite harmless as far as monsters go.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°What kind of monsters around here are the dangerous ones?¡±

    Sherry smiled brightly, illuminated by the equally bright fire, as she began, ¡°We¡¯ve been at this for 11 years, as I said, and in that time we¡¯ve seen some really nasty ones. Why this one time when we were up around Walnut Ridge¡ª Oh! That¡¯s an old settlement that still has some trade every now and then, directly northwest of Memphi at about 40 miles away from the Northwest Rivergate, down Route NW-4. Anyway. At Walnut Ridge they were having this burrower problem¡­¡±

    Mark and Isoko listened to stories about monster hunts for a few hours, and it was wonderful. Sherry was nice to listen to, and soon the other two, Cindy and Jed, opened up about their own experiences hunting. The three of them were siblings that had been hunting together for the last 11 years, with Sherry as the oldest and Jed as the youngest, and all of them around 30 now.

    All the while, other people came out from the dark to share in the light, and Mark and Isoko spread the healing and sustenance around. Soon, they had 12 people in that clearing in the woods, and Mark found the whole experience wonderful.

    Eventually, though, the sky cleared, clouds moving on, and the moon came out, bathing the world in silver and just a little bit of gold from all those cracks in the lunar surface. Mark and Isoko decided to move on with their trips, and that started the breakup of the camp. They were all just waiting out the clouds, anyway.

    Cindy killed the bonfire with a twist of air, ripping the firelight from the gathering and allowing the moon to shine like it should have been shining.

    Mark watched as Isoko watched Cindy wield the wind to crush the flames into embers. Isoko was clearly feeling some kinda way at that moment, but it wasn¡¯t Mark¡¯s business to intrude on that. But he did lean in to her and whisper, ¡°Want me to hold up a log for you to sit on and we can metalshape-fly down the path for a few dozen miles?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Isoko said, without reservation.

    Mark grinned at that.

    Soon, Mark said goodbye to his new acquaintances as he held Isoko up on a log, with two ends of the log wrapped in thin bands of black metal. It was rather secure seating.

    And then Mark raced down the path, under the moonlight, Isoko glittering platinum as she floated beside him, smiling wide, luxuriating in the feeling of ¡®flight¡¯.

    The monsters didn¡¯t attack much when the moon was out and the prey was chugging along at 35 miles per hour, which was really nice.

    Mark made great time and Isoko seemed to love ¡®flying¡¯.

    But the joy ride had to end eventually. Something big jumped out of the woods. It was the size of a van, and Mark sent Isoko up into the air as Mark backed away, drawing the monster¡¯s attention. Mark had meant to throw Isoko clear of the monster, but Isoko came down right on top of it, her sword flashing platinum as she drove it into the head of the big monster. Mark ended up standing back, supporting her with Union, as Isoko carved a monstrous boar asunder. She held onto thick fur with platinum hands on as the monster bucked and kicked and tried to gore her with its tusks.

    Mark focused his Union fully on durability, making sure Isoko could tank the monster¡¯s attacks just fine, and Isoko probably did the same, considering how the tusks of the boar skidded off of her, sparking in the night. The boar didn¡¯t get many chances to hurt her, though.

    Isoko rapidly made quick work of the monster.

    Stab! Stab! Stab! Into the head and out the eye.

    The monster squealed and roared and crashed into a few trees, and it even blinked in and out of existence a few times, reappearing full body-lengths away from where it had originally been. It was a blinking boar.

    But Isoko held on, even as the monster moved around wildly, and she kept stabbing.

    Mark was pretty sure he heard Isoko roaring right back at the beast.

    Soon, the boar fell over, its dark body covered in a dark slick, moonlight shining overhead as Isoko stood triumphant over its severed head. She was covered in a dark slick herself, but that blood flaked away, and soon she was just standing, platinum in the moonlight, grinning.

    Triumphant.

    Isoko happily said, ¡°I¡¯ll run now, but thanks for the lift, Mark.¡±

    Mark winced. ¡°Sorry. I meant to throw you clear of the monster. Not¡­ onto the monster.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I, uh, I aimed at it. I thought you meant to do that?¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ You can aim when you¡¯re thrown?¡±

    ¡°Well no. But I can certainly twist some and aim. And I think the boar wanted me to fall on top of it. It tried to gore me! Did you see that?¡±

    ¡°I did see that! I¡¯m glad it worked out, too.¡±

    Isoko chuckled.

    She started running.

    Mark kept up.

 101

    The morning dawned and wildlife died to Mark and Isoko¡¯s weapons.

    Mark and Isoko met people who wanted them to join them, but when Mark or Isoko spoke of their goals the people rapidly turned around, or they excused themselves, or they found some reason not to be involved. Mark did not blame them, but it was kinda funny.

    They killed monsters, talking strategy the whole morning, dissecting what some flying frogs had going on with them, or why there were flying fish hanging out in the woods around a few different red-leaved trees. They killed some big black bears with a bunch of black bumps on them. Those black bumps burst whenever they were bludgeoned, and healed the bears whenever they got covered in their own fluids, which was quite weird. But deep enough cuts carved them up well enough, and soon they had carved the bears into bits and dispersed the remains into purity/impurity, killing them for good.

    ¡°Have you tried making, like, lines of adamantium?¡± Isoko asked, as they strolled northward, waiting for the next attack. ¡°Eliot says that monowire is illegal in all known citystates, but you using monowire yourself has to be a good thing, yeah? Or is that too fine of a structure? Will you lose control of the wire like you would a needle?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t know. Let¡¯s find out.¡±

    Mark took some adamantium and stretched it into a long line, about a hair¡¯s thickness¡ª The line split and turned into a bunch of tiny dots of adamantium, like water turning spherical in a zero-g environment. With some direction, Mark put the dots back into a solid line of adamantium, and then he made it thinner. He focused, keeping it thin, but the lines felt¡­ unstable.

    Mark floated the lines in front of him, saying, ¡°It feels like holding onto a piece of cotton cand¡ª Oh, yup. There. See that?¡± Mark had applied the barest bit more strength to the line, to hold it more secure, and it had flexed into droplets. ¡°I held it too hard and it split.¡±

    Isoko looked at the drops. ¡°Can¡¯t you hold two ends of a line, like a garrote, and leave the center unheld and super thin? Adamantium is usually used as tiny lines of the stuff, welded to the edge of a blade, anyway.¡±

    Mark tried that, but¡­ ¡°No. I don¡¯t have the center line of adamantium under my direct control. I feel like I¡¯m going to lose it. I don¡¯t like that feeling at all.¡±

    ¡°Ahhh¡­ Yeah. Expensive shit!¡±

    ¡°Just a little bit!¡± Mark said, as he transformed the adamantium into blades again. ¡°Two 4-inch scalpels is about as thin and small as I want to make it, but this much is more than enough.¡±

    Isoko smirked. ¡°It¡¯s not the size of the blade, it¡¯s how you use it.¡±

    ¡°Right! And it helps that I have two of them. That does more than enough¡­ Why are you laughing? ¡­ And you¡¯re laughing more? ¡ª OHHH¡­ it¡¯s a sex thing, yes. Okay.¡±

    Isoko howled with laughter.

    Mark rolled his eyes.

    They killed more monsters as they walked Route NW-12 toward Wolf Bayou.

    By noon, they hadn¡¯t crossed much actual distance, but holy heck had they done some cleanup.

    The monsters seemed to be running toward them, like no one had cleared this part of the woods in years, or something. It was starting to get crazy.

    Mark tossed a monster body into the woods as he eyed the other monsters running down the road at them. Looked like a pack of boars, each the size of a small car. He asked Isoko, ¡°You feeling good, right?¡±

    ¡°I am feeling fantastic!¡± Isoko said, her skin practically a mirror in platinum. She caught Mark looking so she did a pose, or something, tossing her palms up as she brought her arms in, smiling as she framed her face, saying, ¡°How do I look?¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°What is with that pose?!¡±

    Isoko scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s a perfectly normal pose for the cameras! ¡­ It¡¯s probably more Kpop than Jpop, though. I¡¯m not sure if I want to be an idol¡­ But platinum princesses should be idols, right?¡±

    ¡°Have no idea what any of that means.¡±

    Isoko laughed¡ª She stopped laughing as she looked ahead. ¡°Looks like we got more monsters to serve up.¡±

    The boars were not there anymore.

    A school of flying fish was darting through the woods. Were they coming this way? Mark wasn¡¯t sure. They danced in the half-light of the woods, like glinting silver dinner plates that flashed and flickered, little red glows on their fins and eyes almost looking like neon lights. And then they went dark. Non-visible, but not invisible.

    Their vectors still pointed right at Isoko and Mark; they were hungry.

    Isoko had seen them before Mark, but Mark was the first to know that they were headed their way. Before Isoko could ask about them vanishing from sight¡ª

    Mark said, ¡°They¡¯re headed this way, straight on. They¡¯re just not visible from the front¡ª Not much, anyway. 10 meters¡ª¡± The school of fish split up, heading in multiple directions, floating on the air and each other¡¯s astral bodies¡ª No. Not the air. They weren¡¯t air fish, they were lightfish. They were lightkinetics, Mark was sure. ¡°Light kinetics! Lightfish! They¡¯re circling.¡±

    The fish circled, briefly appearing here and there in the light. Mark saw red fangs between flashes of silver flank, and that was all he saw. He easily sensed them, though.

    Isoko¡¯s eyes darted left and right, tracking what she could track.

    Mark steadied himself, saying, ¡°I kinda miss fighting with a spear, but I really like fighting with my ¡®claws¡¯.¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Isoko readied her wooden-yet-platinum sword, holding it close to her face, ready to slash at whatever came for her most ¡®vulnerable¡¯ parts. With a casual tone, she said, ¡°It¡¯s so freaking weird how you can feel through your adamantium. Grandma says she can feel through the entire sky on some days.¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°The entire sky! How big is your grandmother¡¯s astral body? Or is it just diffuse?¡±

    Isoko stepped to the left, avoiding the snapping jaws of a flying fish as she almost-casually cleaved through the flank of the thing. The fish went down and the entire school attacked.

    Mark and Isoko were sashimi chefs for a little while, though he was sure that they¡¯d be fired if they were preparing real fish for dinner.

    Soon, they had destroyed most of the school of flying fish. The remainder scattered before they were turned into meat.

    Toward the end of the fight, as they were fleeing, Mark took extra care to grab and carve up one particularly nice-looking fat fish, as he also started preparing a fire to the side.

    Isoko smiled at his preparation, asking, ¡°Wow you must be hungry!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s lightfish, Isoko!¡±

    ¡°I mean, well¡­ Yeah. But is it safe to eat?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Mark happily said, as he opened up the fish and found deep pink flesh. ¡°Oh my gods, look at that flesh. That¡¯s perfect. Wow. It¡¯s practically glowing, too¡­ Er. Dammit.¡±

    The pink flesh glowed, which was fine, but the white spaces between the muscles and inside the striations of the muscles were already wiggling. Which was bad. Fish flesh should not wiggle.

    Mark just about cursed.

    Isoko looked at the fish and winced. ¡°Bad luck.¡±

    White worms wiggled everywhere inside the fish¡¯s flesh. The worms even glowed, just like the flesh, but now that the fish was dead the flesh started to lose its pink illumination, and the white worms stood out even more. The entire thing was absolutely infested with parasites.

    Infested!

    Mark hatefully tossed the fish into the woods and chopped up his attempt to start a fire.

    ¡°FUCK YOU fucking lightfish! Full of fucking parasites,¡± Mark said, as they walked on, leaving the carnage behind. ¡°That looked like a tuna variant, too!¡±

    ¡°It really did,¡± Isoko said, agreeing.

    ¡°I bet it would have been delicious.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, yes. One of those fish, uninfected, probably would have fetched, like¡­ 500 goldleaf apiece? I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    Mark had a moment. ¡°500? Really? That much? The going rate for good flying fish back home was only 50. Mom and Dad would have had a private feast on a fish like that if they ever caught one, but you couldn¡¯t sell them without a license so we never tried catching any.¡±

    ¡°50 has to be the wholesaler¡¯s cost, right? Or maybe Orange City was less expensive?¡±

    ¡°Tokyo does a lot of fish too, I thought?¡±

    ¡°Oh sure. The Japanese nations are all about fish. But we¡¯ve also got 250 million people to feed, so the cheap stuff is cheap, but the expensive stuff gets really fuckin¡¯ high.¡±

    ¡°Ahhhh¡­ yeah. I can see that.¡± Mark thought for a second about where their conversation had been before the fish, and then he asked, ¡°So is your grandmother¡¯s astral body really damned huge, or something?¡±

    ¡°Diffuse. Grandma usually can¡¯t feel through the sky. She has to concentrate to feel things. You just naturally feel through your adamantium though, right? Is it because it¡¯s dense?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Huh. Well that¡¯s neat. And yeah; I think so?¡±

    ¡°What''s it feel like? To feel through the adamantium?¡±

    As they walked Mark poked at a rock with his metal, trying to understand how he felt that rock, and then he touched his fingers to each other, gauging the difference. ¡®Finger to finger¡¯ didn¡¯t feel like a correct analogy, so he touched an elbow, and that didn¡¯t feel quite right either. But then he touched the inside of his wrist, and decided, ¡°It feels like using the insides of my wrists to touch stuff.¡±

    ¡°... Huh.¡±

    The afternoon rolled around.

    Sometime around 2 PM, maybe 90 miles north of Memphi and 30 miles away from Wolf Bayou, or something like that, Mark and Isoko found themselves fighting in rhythm. She rushed forward, blocking monsters trying to attack her, carving through claws and faces, and Mark secured her physicality while he swiped at the monsters who tried to flank them, cutting off heads and severing limbs. It was a dance, and more dance partners showed up with every passing mile, the forest absolutely teeming with raging, gnawing, swallowing, venomous, leaping, clawing monsters.

    They danced for half an hour, and the monsters never stopped coming.

    It was exhilarating.

    And the monsters kept coming.

    Mark tossed bodies to the side as Isoko kept killing.

    They breathed in sync with each other, and with the world.

    And they sped up.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how it happened, or when it had started, but he had entered a flow, and Isoko was right there with him. The monsters did not stop coming. They only got denser. Mark and Isoko practically ran down Route NW-12 toward Wolf Bayou, and the monsters ran right at them, toward their deaths. The beasts roared and charged and they ignored each other as Isoko carved limb from limb and Mark killed with just as much precision.

    This dance was not just them and the monsters.

    They were dancing with the world, drawing in monsters and somehow avoiding all the people around them¡ª

    ¡­ Where were all the other people?

    That thought is what threw Mark out of the flow. The flow faltered. Mark kept killing, but now he wondered where the people were. Had they seen anyone for the last hour? The last two hours? How long had they been killing an endless flow of monsters?

    Was Mark the one driving people away with Union? Gently guiding them to get gone, and for all the monsters to come their way? Or was there someone out there directing the fight, sending monsters at them?

    Mark was about to say something¡ª

    Isoko spoke first, carving through a wolf-like monster and stepping into the path of some wolf-shaped malformation, saying, ¡°Is this a damned monster wave?!¡±

    The monster she was about to kill juked to the left and Isoko missed her chance to kill it with one easy stroke, so Mark killed it for her, slipping his scalpel through its neck, dropping it to the ground; dying but not dead. Isoko¡¯s words took a moment to register, but then they registered, and holy fuck.

    ¡°I think we are in a monster wave, holy shit?¡± Mark said¡ª ¡°Oh fuck.¡±

    There, in the distance, to the north, what Mark had assumed was a cloud was not a cloud at all. It was a fucking dust storm, low and rumbling. A monster stampede.

    Fuck.

    This was a monster wave.

 102

    Mark called out, ¡°Quark! Can you hear me? Volume max! Is this a monster wave?!¡±

    Isoko had killed two more wolves by the time Mark had asked that question to his AI, and now she killed some bat-like things that swooped at her.

    But in the darkness of the forest, beyond the path, two more wolves simply ran past them.

    Mark hadn¡¯t noticed all the monsters running to the sides, avoiding Mark and Isoko, until that moment.

    Mark stretched his Unionsense as wide as he could, pulling his adamantium inward to get the range in his Union that he had been missing. As he fended off a pair of giant rats, killing one and injuring the other, he felt a flow to the world that he hadn¡¯t noticed here, in his and Isoko¡¯s private battle with whatever came their way.

    The forest was alive with vectors, like a river, and most of them were headed south. They were avoiding Mark and Isoko.

    Quark still hadn¡¯t answered.

    Mark rapidly pulled Quark out of his bag to try and figure out what was happening¡ª

    The phone was dead, which should have been impossible, but maybe they had been hit by some sort of electrical attack earlier. Those flying eels, earlier? Any number of the hundreds of monsters they had killed might have fucked them up in ways they hadn¡¯t even noticed. Mark shoved Quark back into the bag and told Isoko, ¡°Hold on! I¡¯m breaking the wave!¡±

    Isoko backed up to Mark, standing behind him, guarding him with everything she had, fending off three rats¡ª

    Mark focused on a Union of Vein Decay, on the dance of electricity between himself and Isoko and the world, and in the brains of every single monster rushing their way. Black veins shot out from him, stabbing into the hearts and brains of every living thing directly in his line of sight, instantly killing hundreds of enemies.

    The stronger ones survived.

    Most collapsed anyway; even the strong ones.

    The stronger ones that collapsed got run over by the ones behind them that were too strong to be dropped by the ¡®simple¡¯ destruction of their veins. In the dark forests to the sides, monsters still ran on, untouched.

    Mark could have struck deeply into the monster wave. He could have extended his black veins into the world outside of his sight, to strike at every living thing for half a kilometer. But this was an active hunting zone, and he might hit a person. He wasn¡¯t about to accidentally kill someone. The only monsters that died were the ones that Mark saw, directly.

    The monsters kept coming. Mark killed more and more, and they began to pile up.

    The monsters began to ignore Mark and Isoko, the strong ones racing by, leaping around the thing in the middle of the path with all the black veins. The monsters¡¯ vectors even told Mark that he wasn¡¯t in any danger from them; they were just running.

    The monsters were crazed.

    Those that Mark killed piled up into a crashing mountain in front of Mark and Isoko. A hundred meters of bodies, piled onto the path. Blood and roars filled the air. It was an apocalyptic sound. It was a horror of a situation. Mark almost wanted to run, too. Isoko¡¯s vector was going wild with worry. She wanted to run away from the north as well.

    Isoko cried out, loud enough for Mark to hear over the roar, ¡°We need to ru¡ª¡±

    A silence flattened reality. All sound evaporated.

    And then something roared in the distance.

    Something shook the entire world.

    Sound returned all at once as the stampede turned completely frenzied.

    Isoko calmly spoke, her voice cutting through everything, ¡°A kaiju is coming, Mark. Plans are forming to take care of it, but you must escape notice, for now. The pile of bodies is a big notice. The kaiju will want to eat it. Can you purify it away? I will help.¡±

    Mark looked at Isoko and her eyes were glowing gold.

    Freyala was here.

    Mark flickered purity into the world, and Isoko was right there, hand to Mark¡¯s shoulder, helping him. Black lightning shattered the highway full of dead monsters and some of the living ones, too.

    ¡°Very good,¡± Isoko said, smiling. And then the gold faded. Isoko blinked. She chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s a fucking rush. Okay. Uh. I think we need to move north as fast as possible. That¡¯s the last impression I got.¡±

    So maybe Freyala had been here more than just a little bit.

    ¡°North? Into the attack?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Isoko said, very firmly.

    ¡°Well okay then!¡±

    Mark understood enough.

    He pulled his Union back, since most of the monsters were dead and all the rest were screaming in fear as they bulldozed through the forests to the sides. Mark spotted and grabbed a big hunk of wood, from some freshly-broken tree, grabbing it with bands of black metal and then securing it in the air beside Isoko¡ª

    Isoko wrapped herself around the tree, grabbing hold as she pointed to the north. ¡°We have to meet up with someone! We¡¯ll know who we¡¯re meeting fast enough! 15 miles! Avoid everything! Go go go!¡±

    Mark was already flying forward, racing into the stampede, avoiding the monsters by simply flying over almost all of them.

    Slimes, wolves, glowing cats, cow-sized land octopuses, frogs, and low-flying monsters of all kinds from birds to big bugs, all flowed south.

    Mark carried himself and Isoko north, into the dusty air¡ª

    Isoko pulsed, her heartbeat clearing the air of impurity. It was just a few meters around them, but Mark could see a lot better than he could before. It was more than enough to see what needed to be seen, because Unionsense told Mark what he needed to know, allowing him time to dodge incoming monsters in the dust long before he saw them.

    Shapes loomed in the dust storm of the stampede, massive and crawling, smashing and crashing. Elephant-sized monsters that would not move unless they were moved in turn; Mark went around. Tall monsters, like massive spiders with legs that kept them up and away from the problems of the world below; Mark went under them. Shimmery things that were indistinct colors in the dust¡ª

    A school of monster fish flew into the bubble of clarity surrounding Mark and Isoko, slipping around them, vanishing back into the dust cloud. Some of the monster fish almost wanted to take bites out of Mark and Isoko, but then the whole school went on, and the almost-biters went with it.

    Mark raced forward, unsure what he was aiming for¡ª

    Seemingly all at once, the sky cleared.

    For miles in every direction, Mark saw the barren Earth and monsters, crazed and running away¡ª

    The kaiju.

    It was a cloud, but not. It was a mountain, and not at all.

    It was not there, and then it was there, its vector appearing out of nowhere.

    The kaiju was the only thing that mattered at all. How had it gotten here so fast? Why hadn¡¯t Mark seen it before? All the monsters had been running away from it, and Mark had thought them running scared, from a kaiju, yes. But now they were truly running, freaking out. All the vectors of all the monsters all around were pointed in every direction. The monster wave had turned crazed, because it had not been a monster wave at all.

    Mark had read about kaiju being born, spontaneously.

    That¡¯s what had just happened, for sure.

    Because the kaiju had not been there, it had not been a weight upon the world, but now¡­

    All Mark could see, all he could think about, could feel at all, was the pull of the kaiju in the air.

    Mark could only see parts of it at any one time, for if he looked at the left wing then he could not see the tip of the right wing. It was, predominantly, a bird. It was white and soft yellow, and at sunset it would have vanished, but it was 4 in the afternoon, the sky was blue, and the bird was as wide as the sky.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Eyes opened up alongside every frontal edge of its ten different wings. Its center mass was a collection of glowing spikes that trailed light from every tip, shredding the sky like prisms shredded lights into rainbows. The shredded sky worked differently from a normal sky. Rain, snow, winds, even flickers of night; all the variations of the sky appeared around the white, many-winged bird, in the prisms created by its central crystal spikes.

    The kaiju sang.

    The song undulated upon the world, echoing in and out like a soft refrain, a warble, and a lone violin note held way past its expiration date. It chilled. Snow fell across the land to the left of Mark and Isoko, like icicle needles. A few icicles pierced a few different large rats, killing them, freezing their bodies and turning them to snow that fell to the ground and layered. Some monsters escaped. Most did not¡ª

    ¡°Use me as a shield, Mark. Right fucking now.¡±

    Mark was appalled, and because of that he hesitated.

    The snow storm drifted their way. Mark was still running forward, but now he drifted right¡ª

    Isoko leapt off of her log and landed on Mark, covering his head, holding on to him, saying, ¡°Run faster! We have to get up there and support them!¡±

    Support who?

    Oh wait.

    Them.

    There was a settlement sitting in the way of the kaiju, and Mark had not seen it because it had been so small, so distant. But snow spikes landed on the city and some sort of city shield flashed in response, lighting up that small, small part of the world.

    Snow spikes struck Isoko, on Mark¡¯s back, like hammers coming down on an anvil, each one sounding out hard and heavy. One of them struck Mark¡¯s arm and scraped across his skin, down his bicep, drawing blood. His arm chilled, ice filling his veins, but Mark purged that infection with a bit of purity and impurity. It worked well.

    Isoko said, ¡°We¡¯re good. We can survive the small stuff. We need to support Redwolf up there. We¡¯ll see her. You¡¯ll have to do most of the work. Priests are already up there, trying to support her, but the thing thing¡ª Ugh!¡± Isoko winced, her head jerking to the side. Mark felt ice roll down his face. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just a hit. Not a puncture. The cold can''t reach me.¡±

    Mark was already running as fast as he could but he had no idea what he was running toward, except for the idea that he was running toward the Head Popper Queen of Wolf Bayou, in order to support her to pop the kaiju¡¯s head, or something like that.

    Mark complained over the roar of the kaiju song, ¡°But it doesn¡¯t even have a head! Can Redwolf actually do anything?!¡±

    The kaiju was, like, 6 spikes of crystal, all laid against each other, like 6 ocean liners all bundled together, with countless mountain-sized feathered wings extending out from those crystals. Eyes opened everywhere.

    It felt foolish to run toward the settlement up ahead, to run to Wolf Bayou, directly under the beast¡¯s leading crystals¡ª

    Another vector flickered active to the left.

    Mark only noticed that vector because it was pointed right at Mark and Isoko, and when the vector noticed them, it became the thickest vector in the immediate area. Whoever it was was focusing on Mark with almost all of their being.

    It was a woman with a red wolf half-mask sitting on top of her head. Her pale, girlish face showed below the mask. She had on a death metal band shirt and black jeans, and she floated on top of a slick silver platform with a half-moon handlebar sticking up in front, her hands gripped on the handlebars.

    Redwolf.

    A man with a black wolf half-mask and wearing dark armor stood on the ground next to her platform, holding onto the platform, floating in a gloom that was only around him and the base of Redwolf¡¯s platform. The man was wreathed in shadow, and so was everywhere he touched.

    Redwolf commanded Mark and Isoko, ¡°Stop where you are and Union link with me and with Blackwolf. We¡¯re moving into position and killing the kaiju. Further instructions to follow.¡±

    Mark was hesitant because he knew of Redwolf, but he also knew that she could kill kaiju, so she probably wanted to kill the kaiju, and Mark had to help her do that. So he stopped flying forward and linked with her and with the guy holding her platform, his heart beating with resilience and weakness¡ª

    The world flickered with shadow¡ª

    Mark was suddenly underneath the kaiju, looking up at the front edge of the beast, while he floated a meter off of a stone square in some sort of town. He pulled his adamantium inward. Isoko held on to his back, but she let go and fell to the ground. They were surrounded by people, all of them prepped for something. They were in Wolf Bayou, for sure, in the middle of an anti-kaiju squad.

    Redwolf, and a whole lot of casters, or priests, or whatever. Paladins with breastplates, priests with robes and chainmail, and civilians, some in armor, some in clothes. All of them stood around the square, all of them stood at the ready, though all of them were scared. Some of the priests were focused on the walls of the city; they had to be Hearthswellians. Some of the paladins were focused on everyone else, the feeling of their astral bodies oh so familiar; Freyalans, for sure. Mark couldn¡¯t place the other people who belonged to the various gods of the pantheon, but he recognized them as clergy¡ª

    The kaiju overhead sang a song of vibrating ice and rain. The intangible magical roof of the city sparkled and cracked as ten-meter-long spears of ice crashed down from on high. The city shields held.

    The Hearthswellian priests faltered.

    Mark instantly got to supporting them, connecting to everyone that he could reach, vibrating with his own brain, blood, and breath, a dance of resilience and weakness. Power flooded through Mark, into the world, into the population of Wolf Bayou. He wasn¡¯t sure how far he had reached, but he reached for everyone he could.

    The effect was immediate.

    It was like he had set off a bomb of shared power.

    Everyone straightened up.

    Redwolf giggled, chuckled, and then she roared with laughter. She called out, ¡°That¡¯s the fucking GOOD STUFF!¡± She roared at the monster overhead, ¡°FUCK YOU, KAIJU!¡±

    Mark felt, saw, and sensed, in every way he could, something strange.

    Redwolf¡¯s existence flickered red, like an inward pulse; a drop of water landing on a multidimensional surface but in reverse. Mark heard something distant. He saw one of the inner ice spires that made up the center of the winged, spear-like, eye-covered kaiju, simply break in the middle.

    A shockwave rushed outward, taking multiple seconds to reach Wolf Bayou. And then the wave reached the city, popping the bubble overhead, completely exposing them to the kaiju¡ª

    The world filled with a song of ice and rain and deadly night¡ª

    The Hearthswellian priests began to chant in another language and the bubble began to reform, slowly, like crawling light reaffirming itself over the tiny city far beyond the walls of Memphi¡ª

    The kaiju¡¯s song turned muted, once again¡ª

    ¡°Kid,¡± Redwolf said to Mark, suddenly there, floating beside him on her silver platform. ¡°Focus. Keep doing what you¡¯re doing, but more. That thing has 5 brains left. I need to pop 5 more brains up there. Focus on me. Give me everything you can. Right now.¡±

    Mark set down onto the ground, sitting down, pulling his adamantium in all the way to rest against his skin. And then he flowed Union outward. Mark became one with the world, with the city of Wolf Bayou. It was not a large place. Maybe a few miles across. Mark managed to cover at least half of it. He touched the vectors of everyone present, gathering their hopes for life, their hate against the kaiju, bringing them together in a Union.

    To unite them against the force in the sky.

    To unite them under Redwolf.

    He even brought the kaiju into its own destruction.

    Mark had connected to a kaiju before, to Addavein. It was easy to connect to a kaiju, really.

    Their physical bodies were way too distant to connect to at all. Multiple miles away. Ten or twenty, or however far away they were. This crystal-spike eye-wing kaiju was no different in that regard. It was high in that sky, for sure.

    But its astral body was everywhere, like a suppressing, fearful power, driven into the land, into the hearts of everyone, everywhere.

    Mark connected to that beast, too, and it didn¡¯t even notice Mark¡¯s touch.

    It was like tapping into another world of power, there for the taking. An endless font of everything that Mark could ever need to make it kill itself. Mark gave that strength to Redwolf.

    ¡°There we go,¡± whispered Redwolf, her astral body seeming to turn visible, red, in the air around her. She spoke, and her voice sounded in Mark¡¯s mind just as much as in his ears, ¡°That¡¯s even better than before.¡± She asked, ¡°You canceled the fear effect?¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t speak right now, but Redwolf understood what she needed to understand. Mark wanted to nod.

    He was absolutely sure that many other people in the square nodded instead.

    All of the people in the square were focused on Redwolf, on supporting her in some way, and Mark was no different right now. Black veins extended out to everyone within the square, but mostly toward Redwolf.

    Redwolf breathed strongly, and then she looked upward. She winced. ¡°This is gonna fucking suck, I can already tell.¡±

    Like five ripples in the world, Redwolf became the epicenter for five separate inward splashes of red light.

    Far, far overhead, the kaiju became the actual center of Redwolf¡¯s detonations.

    The five remaining crystal spires that made up the bodies of the kaiju all cracked in half.

    The thing died. The song ended. Just like that. Five bombs for five heads; set off and sending shockwaves across the world. The thing died instantly and Mark lost most of the Union he had been tapping into for power.

    The world relaxed.

    But now, the monster was falling to Earth.

    Mark felt kinda floaty.

    Redwolf started shouting orders and people started to fulfill them. She yelled about how it wasn¡¯t coming down on them, and that they were fine. Mark wanted to believe her, but that thing was too big, and¡ª

    Light bloomed in the sky; a thousand explosions, a thousand crashes and a thousand more ripping tears on the very fabric of reality itself. It was enough to nudge the kaiju¡¯s falling body backward, back north, toward open land.

    Redwolf held her head, blood flowing from her nose as she roared into a tech-thing on her floating platform, ¡°Brace for impact! Kaiju fall! Kaiju fall!¡±

    It was a quake, a dust storm, and a hurricane, one right after the other. The wards over the city broke twice, but they came back online each time. Mark was there, just off center of it all, feeling out the city and holding the people together as best he could, everything focused on resilience and weakness, but it was a lot harder to do without the countersink of the kaiju itself.

    Somehow, minutes passed in raging sound and falling stone, and Mark lay on the ground, staring into the dusty sky. He wasn¡¯t sure how he ended up on the ground, but here he was, on the ground. Was it over? It was over, right?

    Mark gradually pulled his power back, turning off his Union of Brain first, and then pulling back his Union of Blood¡ª

    ¡°Keep it going, please,¡± Redwolf said.

    She was sitting on the ground next to Mark.

    Mark was not sure how that had happened.

 103

    Redwolf said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna have a headache for a full day without some more healing. Is that the best healing you can do?¡±

    Mark switched to ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯, instead of the half-and-half protection/healing that was his resilience/weakness blend.

    Redwolf frowned a little. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s good/bad. The other one was resilience/weakness.¡±

    Redwolf closed her eyes, and then she winced. ¡°I think I liked the other one better. Go back¡ª Yeeeahhh. That¡¯s it. Fuck. You really are a True Union kid, aren¡¯t you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Redwolf nodded. ¡°Just¡­ just keep doing that for a while. Reach whoever you can. I¡¯m sure practically everyone in the city under 20 Body is seriously injured, and that¡¯s 50% of the people here.¡± She looked up at some guy in a white mask, saying, ¡°How is it looking?¡±

    Whitemask said, ¡°80% structural damage. Buildings holding due to wards. Few building falls that we¡¯re working on clearing now. 3 deaths, 540 injured. Estimated time to repair to full is one week. Basic functions will be back in four hours. Shorter if Mister Careed keeps up his Union centering.¡±

    Mark kept up his ¡®union centering¡¯, as Whitemask called it.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Redwolf said, ¡°¡­ Could have been a lot worse.¡±

    Whitemask bowed and stepped away.

    While they had spoken, Mark had extended his range and yeah, he felt injured vectors, denoted by their focus on themselves and their pain, turn softer, turn outward. Mark¡¯s own healing was helping to organize all the other Freyalan healers out there, like a server coming online in a grouping of individual computers, or however Eliot had explained it that one time on the chat boards.

    Looking around himself, Mark saw that he was in some sort of central square of Wolf Bayou. Probably the Central Square; Mark recognized it by the fountain over there and by the videos he had already seen on the place.

    Redwolf was talking softly to a few different people, organizing whatever was happening out there from right where she sat, next to Mark. Isoko stood to the side, a few steps away, focused on breathing and her heartbeat.

    Redwolf finished with initial talks with her people and she just sat there, relaxing in the sun as more people spoke to her about lighter concerns. Mark could tell she was in pain, her vector pointed inward just as much as it was pointed outward, at all the people in the square and at whoever she talked to. She looked focused on herself right now, but she was still the queen of her community. She was worried about everyone else around her.

    She didn¡¯t seem like such a big time killer of Drakarok in that moment.

    Eventually, the litany of people bringing concerns to Redwolf tapered off.

    Mark spoke up, ¡°So, uh, hello, ma¡¯am, uh, Redwolf.¡±

    Redwolf paused, and then she started laughing¡ª she winced and held her head. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk for about an hour.¡± She sighed. ¡°That fucking hurt. Six damned brains! All the size of a manor.¡±

    Mark¡¯s idea of ¡®Daihoonian Queens¡¯ probably needed an update.

    And then Redwolf took off her red wolf half-mask and Looked at Mark with serious, bright red eyes. Those were not colors you¡¯d find on a human from Earth, at all. Her eyes were brightest red, and they practically burned. ¡°We¡¯re gonna talk later about your interactions with Addavein and everything else, but not right now. You understand?¡±

    That sounded more like a ¡®queen¡¯ to Mark.

    Mark said to her, ¡°Sure.¡±

    Oh.

    That was not deferential enough, was it.

    Redwolf relaxed anyway. She nodded, and then she pulled her mask completely over her head and laid down on the ground. She mumbled, ¡°Fucking headaches.¡± She spoke a bit louder, ¡°What¡¯s your favorite food, Mark? We¡¯ll get it made.¡±

    Mark had no trouble saying, ¡°Really good tuna. Blackened steaks.¡±

    Redwolf angled up her mask to look at him. She smirked. ¡°Good choice.¡± She put her mask back down. ¡°We¡¯ll have a good party tonight. Do you want someone to escort you around town while you¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Uh.¡± Mark decided to just get on with his main reason for coming here. ¡°I¡¯m looking for four people that tried to murder me and steal from me. It was an ambush on the road and I escaped. I want to find them and ask them why, and then offer them some tokens of clemency from Memphi if they want that. I¡¯m starting to think they were just blinded by greed and not actually bandits.¡±

    Redwolf frowned a little as she lay there. ¡°You think they¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°I fully expect to never see them again and to need to put that attempted murder behind me.¡±

    Redwolf nodded a little. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of shit you have to let slide as a True Power, Mark, otherwise you¡¯ll drive yourself crazy. Attempted murder is not one of the things you should ever let slide, because if they attempted to murder you, then they would certainly murder others.¡± She spoke up, ¡°Greenwolf! Where are¡ª Ah. There you are. Help Mark find the people who tried to murder him. He doesn¡¯t want to kill them right away. Clemency from Memphi and whatnot.¡±

    A man in a green wolf mask appeared from the light as though summoned, but Mark had watched the light peel away from him. Mark had already noticed him as a vector in the air, but a lot was happening right now, so he hadn¡¯t thought much of it, not until the guy was suddenly visible.

    Mark noticed other invisible people in the area, now that he was truly looking.

    And now that he was looking, he also watched as the black veins in the air around him were bent toward the invisible people, as he noticed them. They noticed him noticing them. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about suddenly realizing that his veins pointed toward people he was noticing, and how he presented to the world. Seemed like a tell, like he was exposing himself somehow.

    Mark would work on that tell later.

    Greenwolf bowed, saying, ¡°On it, ma¡¯am.¡± Greenwolf turned to Mark. ¡°I will take your statement now, if it pleases you, Blackvein.¡±

    Mark had a moment of surreality, and then he began, ¡°One of them was¡ª¡± He paused, and then he opened up his backpack, grabbing for Quark on his dead phone, saying, ¡°I have all of it here, but I think Quark got zapped by some electricity monster when we were out there. Maybe if I can get it running I can give you the current investigation¡­ Hmm.¡± Lights blinked on and silver light appeared, briefly. And then the phone died again. ¡°¡­ Ah. Never mind about that, then.¡± He looked up at Greenwolf and began, ¡°It was four of them. An older woman Mind Controller, maybe around 50-ish¡­¡±

    Redwolf lifted her mask when Mark mentioned ¡®Mind Controller¡¯ and then she took off her mask and frowned when Mark spoke of a possible Mesmer. She said nothing, though, and Mark continued to beat black veins into the air, healing and supporting all of his fellow Union-users all around as they healed others in turn, as Mark talked of his run-in with some opportunistic killers.

    Greenwolf asked clarifying questions about powers seen and words spoken. Talking to him felt like talking to Layfair or Willow, or to any of the other investigators that Mark had spoken with ever since he came out of Tutorial and ended up at Citadel Freyala. Isoko stood to the side, not doing much; just watching. Mark eventually finished.

    Greenwolf said, ¡°I will seek you out later, Mister Careed.¡± He bowed, and then vanished from sight.

    Mark kinda wondered what was going to happen next, since a bunch of stuff seemed to be happening a lot faster than Mark could think¡ª

    Redwolf said, ¡°The people you speak of don¡¯t ring any alarms, but if they¡¯re here or if they passed through, then Greenwolf will know of them.¡± She sat up and then stood up, asking, ¡°You want to take part in the kaiju cleanup? You¡¯d be one of the centerpieces in the cleaning; 10,000 goldleaf for the job at that role, like industry standard.¡±

    Mark stood up. He found himself about a foot taller than Redwolf. It felt like the world was coming at him fast, and he was barely keeping up. So he bought himself time, saying, ¡°I need to know what that sort of job looks like, and why you¡¯re offering¡­ or asking?¡±

    Or telling.

    Mark knew, in the back of his mind, that the kaiju needed to be erased from existence as fast as possible, but his mind was a bit frazzled right now. Why was Redwolf talking to him like this?

    Redwolf looked at Mark for a moment. She hummed. ¡°This would be your first kaiju kill, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. It¡¯s getting easier, but the normal amount of kaiju a person encounters in their lifetime is between 0 and 1, and I¡¯ve had at least 4 or 5 right now, right up in my face. I think it¡¯s going to be a lot more, though, and¡­¡± Mark¡¯s heart was steady. He looked at Redwolf. ¡°And I¡¯m ready for it.¡±

    Or at least he was getting there.

    Redwolf grinned. She started walking down a road, saying, ¡°With me, please.¡±

    Mark walked with her, and Isoko walked silently behind a few steps. Mark glanced back to Isoko, to gauge her mental state, and she shook her head a little and simply walked in stride. A man in a purple wolf mask stepped to Isoko¡¯s side and spoke quietly to her¡ª

    ¡°It¡¯s never easy to face a kaiju,¡± Redwolf said, drawing Mark¡¯s attention back to her.

    They were walking down a wide street, paved with stones and with stone buildings to the side. It was a nice street, but there was battle damage from the kaiju fall. Mark was pretty sure he heard in the far distance, to the north, a gradual rumble, like the body was settling, or something. He for sure heard stones falling here and there in the city¡ª

    Something wooden snapped to the left, instantly drawing Mark¡¯s attention.

    Someone cried in pain to the right, and that drew Mark¡¯s attention, more. He focused his Union healing in that direction, toward the person in pain, to some inwardly-pointing vector and the four vectors surrounding that vector, trying to help that downed vector. They were all people, of course, but four half-walls separated themselves from Mark so he couldn¡¯t tell who they were, or what they were doing. The walls didn¡¯t matter for Union, though.

    As Mark healed that downed person, their vector gradually pointed back outward, relief flooding their body. Mark had no idea how he had helped them, but he had.

    Redwolf continued, ¡°And this kaiju was worse than most. We almost all died today, Mark. That kaiju should not have been there.¡±

    Mark¡¯s blood ran cold. ¡°¡­ Okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you noticed the monster wave; you were in the thick of it. It was a rather spontaneous wave, too. That¡¯s not too strange. The land here is incredibly rich, so spontaneous waves happen sometimes because there aren¡¯t enough hunters killing enough monsters. But then the kaiju appeared. That particular beast was a creature of ice and sky, and having a sky-based kaiju is always a terrible thing, because yes, they can appear just like that.¡± Redwolf said, ¡°But I can kill kaiju rather easily, just by myself. That one should not have been a problem, but it had 6 brains. So, it was a problem. Thankfully, some helpful Freyalan priests knew you were in the area, so I went and picked you up and you were solid enough to do what needed to be done. Freyala is good like that; connecting people in their moments of need.

    ¡°And then the whole battle went down without a major problem.

    ¡°But that kaiju should not have been born that large, or that strong. Spontaneous kaiju births are always worrying.¡±

    Mark went, ¡°¡­ Okay?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure what Redwolf was getting at, but it made him uncomfortable in some unknowable kind of way, like he was in deep waters and sharks were circling.

    Redwolf seemed to watch Mark from behind her mask. And then she grinned, and said, ¡°The world is dangerous. Don¡¯t be surprised if some other bandits come after you for your adamantium, or your life. If you let the next batch live, you should extract their reasons for attacking you and be content with whatever they tell you.

    ¡°But anyway. About the kaiju cleanup.

    ¡°I¡¯ll put up the all-call request in a few hours. I¡¯m imagining paying for 10 centerpieces, of which I assume you¡¯ll be one of them, and then 1,500 sidepieces, each of which will get 150 goldleaf to help clean up, as long as they can actually clean up well. My own men will be going in to extract whatever goods we can extract out of the big thing before all of that. Everyone in the city at the time of the kaiju kill will get a fraction of the sales of those goods, which is also industry standard.

    ¡°That whole body has to be gone by 48 hours, or else we¡¯ll end up with a bunch of B and A rank monsters after they eat the feast of meat out there. Maybe even a few S¡¯s if we let the poison pot stew for too long. I don¡¯t need to tell you how dangerous a high speedster rabbit is; you probably killed a bunch of the normal little flesh monsters out in the wilds to get here.¡±

    They had arrived at a big thoroughfare. To the north was a coliseum; the centerpiece of Wolf Bayou, where they held all the blood sports. To the south was Wolf Palace, which looked like a castle. A nice castle, all white stone but with differently-colored roofs here and there, from red to green to purple and all the colors of the rainbow and more besides. But it was still just a castle.

    There was an open gate leading to the castle, and Redwolf stepped to the middle of the gate. She turned and said to Mark, ¡°Do you want to stay in the castle? Or do you want to find lodging in the Grand Hotel?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Mark looked back toward Isoko.

    Isoko was deferential, but her vector was pointed away from the palace.

    Mark told Redwolf, ¡°Hotel. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Set it up for them, Purplewolf,¡± Redwolf said, to the guy standing next to Isoko. And then Redwolf told Mark, ¡°It was wonderful to meet you. I need to sleep for several hours. See you tonight for the party. I am usually of the night guard, so don¡¯t expect much official to happen during the daylight hours.¡±

    And then she turned and walked toward her palace.

    Mark said, ¡°Nice to meet you, too!¡±

    Redwolf waved behind her without looking.

    The gates closed, and Mark found himself talking to Purplewolf and Isoko about accommodations.

    - - - -

    Mark lay on a bed in a team suite, at the top of the Grand Hotel, on the fifth floor. There was a crack in the white marble wall, but as Mark lay there watching the wall, he sensed a vector in the wall, crawling in the crack. The wall began to seal, to heal. It was fucking weird, but also really, really neat. And now that Mark had a moment to himself ¡ªeven with Isoko laying on her own bed over there¡ª he sensed a bunch of different vectors crawling through the wires and the walls and the floor and ceiling. Something was repairing the entire city in one slow swoop. Probably the Hearthswellian paladins and priests¡ª

    ¡°So!¡± Isoko said, laying on her bed.

    Mark said, ¡°So that happened.¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°That¡¯s what Freyala guided you to, right?¡±

    ¡°I had no idea what was going to happen, Mark, only that we were needed up ahead. I thought we were going to need to fight through a bunch more monsters, or something. Not¡­ Not get picked up by Redwolf and her teleporter¡­ Blackwolf, I assume, based on the mask.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°She called him that; yeah. Her teleporter.¡±

    ¡°The colored masks makes remembering names convenient, at least,¡± Isoko said. ¡°But they do the same thing with some hero teams out there. You know the Color Rangers aren¡¯t actually the same Rangers as they used to be, yeah?¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°The Color Rangers? I never watched that one, but I heard about it.¡±

    ¡°What! Never?¡± Isoko laughed. ¡°It¡¯s like the most popular kids show of our generation!¡±

    ¡°More like the most popular kids show of our parents¡¯ generation.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh!¡± Isoko asked, ¡°Have you studied the powers in the area? The names of the heroes we¡¯re going to be working with? Is Redwolf actually one of those heroes, or is she¡­ is she something else, I guess?¡±

    Mark paused, and then he began, ¡°My uncles talked a little bit about the heroes of Memphi. There¡¯s, uh¡­ Titanfist, that¡¯s a big one¡ª Oh! Kraigen Steele. He¡¯s the leader of Memphi¡¯s hero¡¯s association. He uses his normal name for all of that. We talked a bit about who actually comes out and kills all the kaiju all the time, and they said some guy named Frozenfire and some supervillain named Credenza does most of that work, most of the time. And also Blackthorn, the local archmage.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I don¡¯t know any of those guys¡ª No wait¡­ I might have heard of Credenza before. I think she¡¯s a support hero? Luck-based. Doesn¡¯t do anything herself, but she does fuck up an entire battlefield all on her own.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what I heard, yeah. Frozenfire is a through-put kinda hero, with the Talent of Temperature Manipulation. He makes ice to make propelling fire and stuff like that, or something. I think he has a few different sidekicks to help litter the land with fire or ice, depending on what¡¯s needed¡­¡± Mark sat up and looked over to the big screen on the wall, and at the keyboard sitting below the screen. ¡°I bet we can look them up on the internet.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m ready for a break.¡± She got up and started tapping away at the keyboard, lighting up the screen. A loading symbol prominently appeared in the middle of the screen, along with a message at the bottom. ¡®Technical Difficulties ¨C No Internet Connection¡¯. Isoko tsk¡¯d. ¡°That¡¯s about to be expected after a kaiju attack. I¡¯m surprised that Wolf Bayou is this advanced, anyway. They have to be supported by Memphi, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m getting that impression, yeah. Like. It¡¯s an exile city, but not really¡­¡± Mark lay back on his bed, saying, ¡°I¡¯m still supporting people anyway. I¡¯m going to close my eyes for a minute.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Let me help.¡± She went back to her bed and set the keyboard on the nightstand between them as she lay down, too. Her heart beat with good and bad, and Mark connected back to her instinctively. She breathed in, and then out, asking, ¡°So¡­ uh. How do I help? I can¡¯t actually target anyone without seeing them yet, or having line of sight.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing a lot already, just by being open. All I¡¯m doing right now is functioning as a server in a computer system, or however Eliot explained it that one time. I¡¯m helping all of the other Union users out there connect to each other, extending our range all across the city, and enmeshing our Power with the weave of the world.¡±

    Mark could feel maybe the nearest 200 meters in every direction, the vectors of everyone and every living thing, all jumbled up and hurting, but mostly healed already. But beyond that he felt the other nodes of the Union network out there, like expansions to his own network. If every person out there was an invisible pull on the blanket that was reality, the other Union users were other blankets, other people that could feel the world like Mark¡­ or something like that. They were all ¡®stitching their blankets¡¯ into one ¡®unified quilt¡¯.

    It was neat!

    Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s like Healer Club. If you have questions, ask, but I¡¯m still figuring this out myself.¡±

    ¡°I spent a few days in Healer Club, but not many. I haven¡¯t even gotten to really learning how to connect to a group on my own and I¡¯m still learning how to speak while keeping Breath active.¡±

    Mark smiled as he lay there, eyes closed, saying, ¡°To keep Breath active while in a Union, you gotta pull back harder before a punch, like when you know the punch isn¡¯t going to be good enough so you wind up more. That¡¯s how I figure it. Breathe deeper inward, and then punch harder outward.¡±

    Isoko hummed, then she breathed in deep and said, ¡°Is this working? No. That¡¯s not working.¡± A breath. More words, ¡°How about now¡­ Maybe this is working. La la la la la la.¡± Inhale. ¡°La la la la¡­ Ah, I think¡­ Is that working. It is working. I feel like I¡¯m missing something. I¡¯m not matching breath with you at all.¡±

    ¡°Unions don¡¯t have to be in perfect sync to be a Union; they can be staggered.¡±

    ¡°Logically, I understand that, but¡­¡±

    They spoke for a while about Union work.

    It was a nice cooldown from the day¡¯s action.

    Holy shit, they had really been there for a kaiju birth, hadn¡¯t they. And they had helped to kill the beast! Holy fuck that had been cool.

    Mark smiled a little.

 104

    Isoko looked at Mark with concern, after Mark had said something about something. He wasn¡¯t even sure what he had said.

    While the sun had begun to dip down to the horizon beyond the large, ornate windows of the Grand Hotel, Mark healed people far out of sight as he spoke with Isoko about Union. It was the perfect thing to do after facing a kaiju and almost dying. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what was happening right now, though.

    ¡°¡­ What?¡± Mark asked.

    As if she couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing, Isoko asked, ¡°You can use Breath to practice and you haven¡¯t been doing weird practices yet?¡±

    Mark sat on the edge of his own bed across from Isoko, feeling kinda on the spot. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on adamantiumkinesis.¡±

    ¡°Union is more versatile, though!¡± Isoko exclaimed. ¡°It¡¯s pretty much the only reason that I¡¯m okay with not being a Sky Shaper. Sure, I can¡¯t do much with it right now, but when I can actually advance in Union, I have ideas, Mark. Ideas.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Okay. What kind of ideas?¡±

    Excited all over again, Isoko asked, ¡°Can you do invisibility¡ª Or something like invisibility?¡± She pulled back. ¡°Maybe ¡®attention-grabbing¡¯ would be easier. Can you inhale ¡®attention¡¯ and exhale ¡®ignorance¡¯ and make yourself the center of everyone¡¯s sights? You¡¯d become the center for any team like that, for sure, just by virtue of keeping the monster¡¯s attention on yourself as opposed to anyone else. Or how about that thing that Credenza does with luck. Can you inhale ¡®success¡¯ and exhale ¡®failure¡¯?¡± Isoko had a sparkling sort of look in her eyes as she said, ¡°What about speed magics? Can you inhale ¡®speed¡¯ and exhale ¡®slow¡¯?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Err.¡± Mark sat up straight. ¡°I can try something, I guess.¡±

    Isoko smiled as she said, ¡°Good! I want you to try and make me faster.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°You just wanted a buff!¡±

    ¡°Of course I do, mister Best-Supporting-Supervillain! Gods! Can you imagine if you can do what Seraph does, at all?¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide.

    No, he couldn¡¯t imagine himself being like Seraph.

    Seraph was a rather famous hero who blessed whole armies of people with hundreds of various strengths. He was practically the best support hero on the planet right now, following on the heels of Best Woman and Friendster, both of which were dedicated support heroes just like Seraph. But Seraph was the number 1 support hero because he could single handedly ensure that entire support structures for kaiju fights never fell to even incidental damage. He could also turn Glorious Man into a speedster and flier, all on his own. He could take a thousand brawnies ¡ªjust normal brawnies!¡ª and power them up with enough agility, strength, and durability, to hold a city wall from a monster wave. Never speed, though, or stuff like smarts, or anything emotional or mental.

    If Seraph had been here in Wolf Bayou, there wouldn¡¯t have been a single casualty in the fight with that sky-ice kaiju.

    ¡­ Now that Mark was thinking about it, was Seraph¡¯s basic function to buff a person¡¯s Power Levels to extremely high heights? Mark didn¡¯t actually know what Seraph really did, in a technical sense, but he was called a Blesser almost all the time, and Mark had met a guy who was Seraph¡¯s ¡®opposite¡¯ last month, and that ¡®opposite¡¯ mostly decreased the Power Levels of whoever he targeted.

    That Hexer had been Raoul, in that Sparring for Non-Brawnies Club.

    ¡­ And now that Mark was thinking about it, if he ever had to fight a Hexer it would be a disaster for him. A really big disaster, too! He hadn¡¯t gotten scanned in a while, but his Adamantiumkinesis was likely not more than an 85, so if he was ¡®hexed¡¯ to drop below Kinetic 078, then he would be weighed down by his own adamantium. Adamantium was PL 79, and if you didn¡¯t have a PL at least equal to the PL of the item you were Shaping, then you got weighted down.

    Mark had spent the better part of a day flattened to the floor, constantly holding onto his adamantium as he struggled to grow his astral body strong enough to be able to¡ª

    ¡°What you thinking about?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°About Hexers and Blessers and what would happen if my PL with Adamantiumkinesis dropped below 79.¡±

    Isoko narrowed her eyes¡ª

    ¡°Oh!¡± Isoko¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°That would suck.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on it. Never thought about that sort of thing before right now.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Union can decrease PL¡¯s, too. Not as much as a Hexer can, but probably enough. Want to see if this is an actual weakness? I can ¡®hex¡¯ you.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure I can actually draw in resilience against that sort of thing, now that I¡¯m thinking about it.¡±

    ¡°Hexers can do 50+ points of Power Level debuff.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Mark said softly. ¡°No. I can¡¯t¡­ fix that.¡±

    Mark thought in silence, and Isoko looked away, having ideas of her own.

    Eventually, Mark said, ¡°But anyway: I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be turning thousands of basic brawnies into high-tier soldiers anytime ever, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko moved on, too, saying, ¡°Maybe so, but you can already heal people, protect them, feed them, purify them, and a whole bunch of other stuff. So let¡¯s experiment with weirder applications, because I want to be able to go really, really fast.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s dangerous though, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mark said, ¡°Speedsters can avoid the dangers of going fast, but normal people can¡¯t¡ª Wait.¡± Mark had a thought.

    Speedsters protected themselves from the extreme forces of moving too fast through their astral body and innate speedster-type Power. Normal people were often simply ripped apart by a true Speedster who wasn¡¯t careful. Someone like Inquisitor David, who had a times-35 speed modifier, could literally push on someone with a normal sort of push and cave their face in, or do any other horrible sorts of things.

    But Mark had seen David move Eliot around in that training mission to get him out of danger, and speedsters moved people around all the time. Inexperienced speedsters were practically forbidden from touching people with speed unless they had trained to touch people, and move people around.

    And, since they were talking about Seraph and speed buffs, Mark recalled a few things that Seraph had spoken about that he simply never buffed people with.

    Speed was one of those things, because ¡®speed¡¯ was actually time magic, and not just ¡®moving faster¡¯. Or something like that. Mark wasn¡¯t sure, exactly.

    But he did know that too much speed, without the astral body to control that speed, would literally rip a person apart in any number of ways.

    And yet¡­.

    Mark said, ¡°You¡¯re not a normal person, are you. You have a speed modifier, so you already have some ability to be sped up without ripping apart.¡±

    Isoko smiled brightly. ¡°That¡¯s my thinking, too! My modifier is only 1.2-times, but it¡¯s a start. It¡¯s enough to protect me from a basic speed-up. And you can buff yourself with speed too, without injury¡­¡± She paused. ¡°You should be able to buff yourself with speed. Powers have in-built limiters to prevent self-injury¡ª And you can buff yourself with durability and resilience, anyway.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart beat with resilience and weakness right now, black veins extending out into the air, into the world beyond. Mark said, ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be stopping that anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! So let¡¯s do some speed experiments!¡± Isoko held up a hand, turned full platinum, and started tapping her thumb to her middle finger, saying, ¡°There¡¯s not a whole lot of ways to test speed at low levels, but this is one of them. I¡¯m tapping my fingers together as fast as I can. It¡¯s about four taps a second. You¡¯ll be able to tell if I speed up even a little bit. Go for it.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Just¡­ go for it?¡±

    ¡°Any way you want! Go for it. I don¡¯t know what words you¡¯d use at all, but I know I want to be super fast.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes and then he thought for a moment. Isoko¡¯s gentle fingertaps were a soft sound in the background, as Mark considered speed.

    ¡­ He could do the basic idea to start, right?

    Mark breathed in ¡®speed¡¯ for himself and Isoko, watching her fingers tap each other.

    ¡­ He didn¡¯t see any appreciable difference in speed. Mark breathed out ¡®slow¡¯ for himself and Isoko, spreading the slowness into the air, ridding both of them of ¡®slowness¡¯. Or at least that was the idea.

    Nothing happ¡ª

    Oh. Duh. He was breathing for both of them, so of course he wouldn¡¯t see a difference. He was sped up, too, if at all¡­ Maybe. If he was, he seemed capable of handling a little bit of speed? Maybe?

    Isoko kept tapping her fingers.

    Mark didn¡¯t think he was sped up, though.

    Mark said, ¡°This is a completely new problem for me, Isoko, because the first thing a Union user does is secure themselves. This problem has me giving speed to you and not harming myself or taking speed in myself¡­ Which I am just now realizing that I do not know how to do that. You want me to make you speedy, without affecting myself in any sort of way.¡± Mark added, ¡°And even before that issue, I think I might have mentally blocked off using speed for myself, either intentionally, or as a limit to Union.¡±

    Isoko stopped tapping her fingers, as she said, ¡°Oh. Huh.¡±

    They were both silent for a little while.

    Mark decided, ¡°I¡¯ll keep trying, though.¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Isoko resumed tapping her fingers.

    Mark breathed in speed for both of them, and exhaled slow, and that didn¡¯t really work. Mark tried ¡®fast¡¯ and ¡®slow¡¯. ¡®Vigor¡¯ did pretty well, actually, Isoko¡¯s fingers tapping faster and her eyes widening, maybe, but when Mark exhaled ¡®lethargy¡¯, which he felt was the opposite of ¡®vigor¡¯, Isoko and Mark both flinched and jittered.

    It was like waking up, but ten times stronger. Like getting woken up by a bomb blast going off in the other room. Mark felt scared, exhilarated, and too-full-of-energy all at once.

    It was a bad Union. A misfire, somehow.

    Mark broke that Union and his Blood Union crackled a bit before he resumed that one, spreading out his black veins to the world, to others out there. Something healed inside of Mark, his fingers jittering a little as his hand twitched, and then calmed. Isoko¡¯s shoulders fast-twitched backward and she transformed that movement into a full body stretch, her hands and fingers jittering as she sighed out and got up to walk around the room.

    Mark stood up and stretched, too.

    Isoko asked, ¡°What was that one?¡±

    ¡°Vigor-inhale, but it was the Lethargy-exhale that really did¡­ whatever it was I did there.¡±

    ¡°Felt like ten cups of espresso pumped directly into my veins,¡± Isoko said, as she beat her heart with good and bad, rapidly relaxing back to something more comfortable. ¡°Did you mean to do it like that?¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Not really. The first part was a breath of ¡®vigor¡¯, which felt pretty much the same as ¡®good¡¯; basic healing, so not much effect.¡±

    Isoko made a cute little noise of annoyance, ¡°Ich!¡± And then she sighed, and said, ¡°Expelling ¡®weakness¡¯ really is one of the best expellings, isn¡¯t it. That whole concept is just so variable and holistic.¡±

    ¡­ Oh?

    A holistic approach, then?

    Well¡­ Maybe Mark¡¯s body couldn¡¯t handle actual speed, but how about something similar? How about something softer, with enough diffuse connotations to do¡­ something. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Mark said, ¡°Let¡¯s try this.¡±

    Mark breathed in ¡®alacrity¡¯, which was a big-vocabulary word that he didn¡¯t really know too well, except he understood as ¡®quickness and haste in a general sort of way¡¯¡ª

    The trees outside waved slower in the breeze, and Mark felt suddenly sluggish, as though he was trapped in syrup. He was still breathing in ¡®alacrity¡¯, and it took a long time to breathe inward. Mark didn¡¯t think he would stop breathing inward for a full minute.

    Isoko¡¯s fingers tapped in a normal sort of speed, because she was sped up in a way that Mark was not. She was moving fast in every possible way. She knew something was happening. She stopped tapping her fingers and tried moving an arm, and she moved in a normal sort of speed, her entire body seeming to turn deeper platinum¡ª

    It was too much.

    Isoko¡¯s arm went too high. She fell off balance. She stepped forward, stumbled, attempted to right herself, and she ended up stepping to the side, right into a wall about 4 meters away. It was like she had been moving in low-gravity. She had been on the floor and then she had tried to step, and then she crashed. The wall had a rather prominent dent where she had landed. She held there for a while, looking too afraid to move.

    Mark¡¯s breath reached the end of his breath and he breathed out weakness to rid himself of his Union debt caused by taking something in and thus needing to exhale on a return stroke ¡ªhe vaguely realized that his brain was going very fast right now¡ª his eyes going wide as he saw Isoko still holding the wall.

    The moment of Union broke, and the speed of the situation faded away.

    Mark said, ¡°That was ¡®alacrity¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯. I think I was able to handle the thinking-speed, but not the physical speed. You got all of it, though?¡±

    Isoko took a moment, looking at herself and at the floor, saying, ¡°I took a step and moved a lot faster than I should have. Mentally, I was in the flow, but¡­¡± She stood up and got away from the wall, walking slowly, testing her rate of movement. After a few paces of the room, she seemed to be in control of herself again. She smiled, saying, ¡°I got rather speedy there!¡±

    Mark chuckled as the wall broke a bit, falling down. ¡°Well then.¡±

    Isoko looked at the wall, too.

    The marble facade was broken, but whatever repair magics were happening across the city resumed happening on the wall; the wall began to ¡®heal¡¯. Mark watched the wall with Isoko. It certainly wasn¡¯t an Eliot-ish Man-made Manipulation repairing, but rather a high class repair magic. Probably Hearthswellian-based.

    Or at least that¡¯s what Mark¡¯s previous lessons in his Understanding Curtain Protocol class were telling him.

    Mark had always seen construction crews out and about after any kaiju-battle damage report on the news, and they always repaired things rather fast, so Mark knew that people did need to actually repair things and magic didn¡¯t solve every problem¡­ But this was on another level from those kaiju-battle repair zones. A much higher level.

    But to be sure, Mark asked, ¡°So that¡¯s an advanced Hearthswell healing, yeah? Castellan?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ve never really seen it myself, but yeah, it has to be, right? And it¡¯s just¡­ active everywhere in the city? You think it¡¯s active all the time?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re probably pumping more power into it to make it work overtime right now.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they have some buffers linked to repairers linked to some priests of Freyala.¡±

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Mark paused in thought, then he said, ¡°I have a confession. I have no idea how I actually helped Redwolf do her thing at all. All I did was connect her to other people and take away her weakness and give her resilience.¡±

    Mark was still surprised that Redwolf had loudly said ¡®that¡¯s the good stuff!¡¯ when Mark had connected to her, focusing on her. Maybe Redwolf¡¯s Power was mostly limited by her astral body¡¯s strength? And astral body strength faded fast with stronger Powers. It wouldn¡¯t be the strangest thing for Redwolf to be astral body limited.

    Isoko rhetorically asked, ¡°She complained about headaches, yeah? Body-based strain is common when Power-strains too far. Maybe she could always pop brains that big, but her Power and body stopped her due to limitations, and you removed those limitations by helping her spread out her¡­ I don¡¯t know. Not sure where I was going with that¡ª Maybe her Brain Pop needs a commensurately-sized series of brains on her side to make it work well? I have no idea.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Well that makes sense, too.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an Arch Power, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Not sure.¡±

    ¡°Could just be a general astral-body-strain situation. I know I couldn¡¯t keep up Platinum Body forever until I got Union from Freyala.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was think¡ª¡± A sudden thought occurred. Mark asked, ¡°Does it feel easier to go full platinum when I help you, or when you do it yourself? Is there a difference between Freyala Union, and my Union, is what I¡¯m getting at.¡±

    ¡°Oh for sure when you¡¯re doing it, it¡¯s easier, but it¡¯s the same Power. I think I¡¯m getting closer to the quality of reinforcement you¡¯re doing, but you definitely have a larger breadth of actions available to you.¡± Isoko asked, ¡°Say? Have you thought about doing weird, magical concepts for Union? Like the words blessing and hex, since we¡¯re talking about Seraph and all that stuff¡ª Oh! Divinity and Demon! Breathe out the demon, breathe in the divinity.¡±

    Mark went, ¡°¡­ Huh.¡±

    He had a whole bunch of half-thoughts that didn¡¯t make a lot of sense. Demons and magic, Addashield and Addavein. Souls and astral bodies and what words actually did. Months ago, Addashield had spoken of Key Words and how they were used to make Word Alchemy and Mark¡¯s Color Drop treatment. He had said that Mark wouldn¡¯t be able to make use of any of that himself, and that he should focus on working his Powers first, whatever those might be. Addashield had said that Mark would need to find someone else to impart the knowledge of Key Word Magic to, eventually, while also extracting concessions of long-term power¡­ or something like that.

    But Union was ¡®Key Word Magic¡¯, wasn¡¯t it? Though Union functioned more on ideas of words, and not words themselves, right?

    ¡­ Hmm.

    There was a lot there.

    Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure where he was going with all of those thoughts, but they were there. It was like he was touching upon something that was just below the surface, unable to be seen.

    ¡­ Mark would get there eventually.

    Mark said, ¡°A better use of my time might be figuring out how to work Union on other people without being directly involved in the transfer of power, myself. I won¡¯t be able to bless you with the speed you can handle since I can¡¯t handle that speed at all. My mind was going faster, for sure, but my body was just sitting there.¡±

    Isoko went, ¡°Ah. That¡¯s a good option, too.¡± She grinned as she stood clear of the walls, and everything else breakable, and said, ¡°Let¡¯s try!¡±

    - - - -

    Mark tried to make Unions without him in it, as either a sink or a source. He failed. It was frustrating beyond belief to make a Union without involving himself in the power transfer at all. It was almost as bad as figuring out how to work Adamantiumkinesis beyond his normal limits of physical movement.

    Mark worked on that divorcing, too, but it wasn¡¯t going well.

    Perhaps he needed a Union of more than 3 sources, because all he had right now was himself, Isoko, and the world. He wasn¡¯t about to experiment with Union with all the people around him in Wolf Bayou.

    So Mark moved on to something else he truly enjoyed, though that experimentation wasn¡¯t going great, either. Mark lay in his bed, spinning adamantium in the air overhead, and no matter what he did, he couldn¡¯t make it spin as fast as Addavein¡¯s shaper-introduction told him was possible.

    Isoko had been trying to work a ¡®divorced Union¡¯, too, but she hadn¡¯t gotten any further than Mark had. She crashed out on her bed around 10 PM. She had been watching Mark play with his adamantium for several minutes in silence, by now.

    Mark scowled at the adamantium, trying to make it spin faster than his muscles could move. It just wasn¡¯t happening. He guessed his fastest rotation speed was maybe 8 per second. He would have used Quark to time the rotation, to get a better measure of his speed, but Quark was as dead as his phone¡ª

    Isoko said, ¡°That¡¯s difficult, what you¡¯re doing now.¡±

    Mark suddenly stopped, and then he laughed. ¡°Yeah. It is!¡±

    ¡°I mean it. Like. Super difficult. Advanced studies, for sure. But that¡¯s how you¡¯re going to be able to fly one day.¡±

    Mark paused. He looked to Isoko. He put his adamantium away, and asked her, ¡°I saw how you looked at that Wind Shaper when she cleared the air around the bonfire. Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow, and then she seemed to soften in a bunch of different ways. ¡°Thank you, Mark, but I¡¯m good. I really am okay with not having Sky Shaper. But that woman¡­¡± Isoko clicked her tongue. ¡°That woman was bad at air movement. That¡¯s why I looked at her like that. I was disappointed. Maybe she has a weakness of trainers, or something, because she was clearly not focused on clarity of intent at all.¡±

    Surprise rapidly morphed to a small joy. Mark was happy that Isoko was doing okay.

    Mark said, ¡°I thought she did alright. One rip stopped the fire.¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°She could have stilled the air, imposing her will upon the air around the fire and then closing inward to kill the fire. That would have been a lot less effort than ripping the fire away.¡± She added, ¡°Of course, if you didn¡¯t still the air enough, then the fire could restart once you stopped imposing your will, but to stop the fire you¡¯d just have to impose your will deep, rapidly dropping the temperature of the burning wood as well as suffocating it.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Huh.¡± Mark fell silent in thought as he tried to figure out why Cindy was trying to be impressive. He said, ¡°Well I thought it was impressive.¡±

    ¡°Which was the point,¡± Isoko said, ¡°She was trying to recruit us.¡±

    Mark chuckled.

    Isoko said, ¡°Anyway... I don¡¯t know many tricks with metal, but I do know that separating physical body and astral body speed is difficult. It¡¯s how you¡¯re going to learn how to fly, though. Gotta make tiny, super-fast propellers, and then rise up into the air. It¡¯s easy to fly with Sky Shaper because you can control a large amount of air to support your weight and push upward and outward, so you¡¯re not constrained by the size of your material like a metal shaper would be constrained. Light, wind, and dark are the Shapers that can fly the easiest, but all other Shapers have to learn aerodynamics and how to split the astral body from the physical body.¡±

    Mark scoffed, ¡°There has to be a different way to fly than making tiny propellers. Something more efficient.¡±

    ¡°You can use your adamantium to hold onto large props, like an airplane. Or you can get a glider and fly around using those.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh.¡± Mark frowned. ¡°That seems¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure how that seemed.

    ¡°Not great,¡± Isoko provided.

    ¡°Yes, that. And also a weakness. A monster could break a glider.¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Isoko said, and then she continued, ¡°Air Shapers can usually make simple tunnels of wind and support themselves on those. Everyone else has to figure it out the hard way¡ª Oh! As for divorcing physical and astral: How about making some gears that allow for mechanical advantage? Mom talked about that once. Having stuff spin really fast and then trying to hold onto it when it¡¯s spinning really fast might help you figure out the actual separation of physical and astral. Complicated parts, in of themselves, might even help.¡± She waved a hand. ¡°But I don¡¯t know for sure.¡±

    Mark felt enlightened. ¡°That¡¯s a really good idea! Thank you, Isoko!¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°No problem. I hope it works! Mind if I check out the internet while you¡¯re doing that? I want to see what the news says about the kaiju today.¡±

    ¡°Oh sure, go for it.¡±

    Isoko turned on the screen to watch the news, while Mark spent a while figuring out gears and mechanical advantage and where, exactly, the limits of his current astral body lay.

    You couldn¡¯t push limits without first knowing of them, after all, and Mark had discovered several limits to his Powers already.

    Healthy Body didn¡¯t give him any sort of Tactile Telekinesis, and it might never do that. He was doomed to always lose his clothes in a big fight, because they were tier 0 and people struck with Body tier 4-9 in a real fight. That was Mark¡¯s fate in that arena¡­ unless he figured out how to get some TT of his own.

    Adamantiumkinesis had a big limitation of physical actions limiting astral body action speed. It would take time to overcome that limit.

    And Union seemed to have the limitation that Mark needed to be involved in the Union in some way. He couldn¡¯t direct a system without being a part of that system; he couldn¡¯t bless or hex others, without blessing or hexing himself, either along the same direction as his targets, or in opposite directions as his target. As the current battlefield lay, Mark didn¡¯t think he would ever use ¡®speed¡¯ in a fight, because Mark certainly didn¡¯t want to slow down himself to speed up someone else. That seemed like asking for a disaster. And yet, action speed was perhaps the strongest form of power on a battlefield.

    They were all goals to hit, or hurdles to overcome, and Mark would get there eventually.

    As Mark watched news of the kaiju battle over Wolf Bayou today, as he saw images of the destruction and the minutes tick by that the monster was active, he imagined himself slowed down, reacting poorly.

    A cold sweat broke out across his body, as Redwolf¡¯s words came to him, unbidden.

    ¡®Could have been a lot worse¡¯.

    Which reminded Mark of something else.

    Mark suddenly asked Isoko, ¡°What do you think Redwolf was doing when she was talking to me about the kaiju, and how suddenly it was born? Was that¡­ I don¡¯t know. A threat? Or something?¡±

    Isoko looked concerned as she stared at the screen.

    Mark waited.

    Eventually, Isoko said, ¡°She got a weird look when you gave your rundown of the team that tried to kill you, too, especially around the mention of Mind Powers. I think¡­ maybe she¡¯s not as secure here as she lets on? Or maybe other Mind Powers are her weakness, or¡­ or something else is happening there. I have no idea, Mark.¡± She looked at Mark. ¡°The woman pops brains, she¡¯s over a century old, and she¡¯s a contemporary of Drakarok. Maybe you shouldn¡¯t go poking into her business.¡±

    Mark decided, ¡°That¡¯s a whole series of good points.¡±

    Mark had a moment.

    And then Mark gasped, and said, ¡°Holy shit what if she does have some sort of thing with other Mind Powers going on? What if she knows the Mind Controller and the Mesmer?¡±

    Isoko pointed at Mark with the phone, saying, ¡°Now see? That right there would be poking into her business.¡±

 105

    It was midnight and Mark was practicing some more weird words while Isoko was sleeping to the side, taking a nap before the party.

    They had no idea when the party was going to happen. Both Mark and Isoko assumed it would have already started, but Mark had picked up the room phone to ask the people at the front desk when the party was happening, they had told him that invitations would go out when they went out. They expected a start time of 11 PM, though.

    11 PM came and went and Isoko had called a second time, to ask more questions.

    They had told her that the party would happen when it happened, and invitations would go out soon. Perhaps 12 PM, midnight. They had told Mark that he could stop his healing Union, though.

    And now it was midnight, and still no party.

    ¡°12:27, actually,¡± Mark mumbled to himself as he looked at the clock hanging in the bathroom.

    It wasn¡¯t like Mark or Isoko could skip the party, either; that was just unthinkable. Not after being invited by Redwolf herself, and after Mark asked for blackened tuna steaks.

    So Mark was practicing Union in new, weird ways, with some moss that he was growing in the bathroom.

    Currently, the moss occupied the bathtub¡¯s bottom, in three different clumps, though it was growing beyond that limit with every experiment. Plants loved being a part of a Union for any reason whatsoever, so this was not surprising. Mark had needed to physically separate the clumps and connect to them individually a few different times already.

    He¡¯d clean up the moss when he was done, but what else was he going to practice with? On another person? No way! It had been irresponsible to practice with Isoko and Mark couldn¡¯t believe he had actually done that, now that he was thinking about it, but it was done. And so, Mark practiced Union with some moss.

    Could he¡­ breathe in green coloring, and breathe out pale tan? To make himself look green and the moss to be tan-colored? Before any possible applications, Mark wanted to know if it could actually be done. So he breathed for a little while, and nothing really happened except the moss grew some more¡ª

    It was like a light being gradually, and then rapidly, turned to full brightness. The moss grew tan. Mark¡¯s skin remained the same. And then the moss started to die.

    Mark rapidly switched to resilience/weakness and watched as the moss came back to life, back to green, and as his own skin got a faint green hue to it, like he was sweating out green.

    Mark looked at his skin and wiped off the green¡­ dust?

    ¡°¡­ The fuck?¡±

    Was it¡­ dead skin?

    A quick breath of purity/impurity cleared away the dust, thankfully, and Mark mentally jotted down that he had done something interesting, but he wasn¡¯t sure what. Maybe Lola would know.

    He moved on.

    Could he¡­ breathe in visibility for himself, and invisibility on the moss? Could Mark take all of the moss¡¯s visibility? Several breaths later, Mark had no idea if he had done anything at all. The moss was still there, and Mark felt the same. Maybe he needed a third party to see if there was a reaction to the loss of the moss¡¯s ¡®visibility¡¯.

    There was a better word to use for what he was trying to do, though.

    ¡®Aggro¡¯.

    He¡¯d certainly need a third party if he wanted to practice with an esoteric, video-game word like ¡®aggro¡¯, but Mark absolutely wanted to practice with that word, specifically, just to see if he could loop a group of people and a monster into having the monster only attack the person Mark wanted them to attack; to attack the best person equipped to handle that monster. Isoko had touched on that idea a bit earlier, and Mark wanted to try it out.

    Now that wasn¡¯t in any of the lessons that Mark had gotten from Lola, but maybe only because Freyala, as Emily Turner, had been born long before video games and the tank/healer/DPS trio came about in video game lingo half a century ago. Mark barely played video games at all, but he knew about them, roughly, back from high school when people played them and talked about them in class. He mostly knew that the entire idea of ¡®aggro¡¯ was something that a few Tutorial trainers had needed to beat out of kids every now and then.

    Monsters did not follow ¡®aggro¡¯, like video games had aggro, and to think in those sorts of terms was to get a person killed. But maybe Mark could do a ¡®visibility/invisibility¡¯ thing like Isoko had said. What words to use, though?

    ¡®Aggro¡¯ and¡­ hmm¡­ ¡®non-aggro?¡¯

    That¡¯d be an experiment to do in the wilds¡ª

    But wait.

    Mark hummed, then said, ¡°By simply using Union in a group, I can kinda guide people into rhythms anyway. Is a coordinated dance an act of aggro control, or¡­ Or what?¡±

    Mark had no idea what was happening when he got into the flow in a battle and everything came together perfectly, and how much that series of events related to Union¡¯s Power¡­ But Union helped him get into that flow rather easily, and Isoko had remarked how nice it felt to simply be fighting beside him. It felt different to fight with people who you knew how to fight with, as opposed to warriors getting in each other¡¯s ways all the time, and Mark was good at keeping a battle under control, and in their favor.

    Something to think about!

    Mark moved on to another idea.

    The big idea, really.

    ¡®Adamant¡¯ was a word that was absolutely charged with meaning, both in English and personally for Mark. Aside from the adamantium laying against his skin, Mark had adamantium growing in his bones. Mark hadn¡¯t wanted to mess with ¡®adamant¡¯ as a word for Union for a few reasons, though. Primarily¡­ He didn¡¯t want to think about Addashield. That particular mental hangup was loosening, though. Mark was still¡­

    Mark was still having issues. A lot of them. But he was moving on.

    Secondarily, though, and perhaps even more important than Mark¡¯s mental connection to the word ¡®adamant¡¯, Mark had no idea what other words he could use to counterbalance ¡®adamant¡¯. It was the same problem counterbalancing the word ¡®aggro¡¯.

    ¡°What is the opposite of ¡®adamant¡¯?¡±

    Mark had no idea what to counterbalance ¡®adamant¡¯ with, or where, exactly, the idea of ¡®adamant¡¯ fell with regard to¡­ to anything. Was it a healing idea? A protection idea? A growth idea? Sure, ¡®adamant¡¯ had a personal meaning that Mark was still trying to understand, which would influence what the use of the word would do in a Union, but words existed outside of a person, too.

    Much how the demons designed magic tens of thousands of years ago, and all of humanity and every living thing used magic how the demons made it, the word ¡®adamant¡¯ had very specific meanings (more than most words!) and Mark wasn¡¯t sure ¡ªexactly¡ª what those meanings were. He¡¯d have to talk to a mage about those deeper meanings, for sure. But first, he would need to know a mage who would want to tell him secret magics, which was a big ask.

    Most mages were in guilds. Very secretive guilds.

    That one girl that Mark had met already, Svea, had the Arcane Power of ¡®Bolter¡¯, which allowed her to shoot bolts of magical energy. It was a mage Talent, and she had a clear path to power in learning more magic. But she also loudly proclaimed that every mage she ever talked to wanted to sign her up with 5 and 10 year loyalty contracts.

    Mark probably would have needed to sign one of those very same contracts if he would have gone into arcanaeum.

    Mark didn¡¯t even want to think about asking Addavein for magical answers.

    And then, in addition to the magical meaning of ¡®adamant¡¯, there was the added issue of Mark being an ¡®adamantium farm¡¯. Adamantium was a biometal, and Mark had Healthy Body and also Union, so using ¡®adamant¡¯ and some other, purgative word to counterbalance the Union, would probably be¡­ very good for Mark.

    Or very bad.

    Addavein produced multi-ton spikes of adamantium from his body.

    Would Mark do the same?

    ¡­ Hopefully not.

    Mark got back to thinking about adamant¡¯s antonym.

    ¡°¡­ I could just try ¡®weakness¡¯,¡± Mark told himself. ¡° ¡®Adamant¡¯ is clearly a ¡®good word¡¯ and ¡®weakness¡¯ is a balancing word for both the half-healing/half-protection resilience/weakness and also the full-protection durability/weakness¡­ So¡­¡±

    First, Mark took stock of his body, of the adamantium he felt inside of himself. There was getting to be a lot! Comparatively, anyway. When he focused, Mark felt a soft scattering of dust particles of adamantium inside his bones, spread like a mist in his ribs, pelvis, spine, and upper leg and arm bones. A few nodules were larger than dust-sized, but not appreciably so.

    So that was Mark¡¯s current reserves of adamantium. If this experiment caused a change in any of that, then he would stop.

    Mark prepared to breathe in adamant and expel weakness.

    Mark focused, squaring his shoulders, and then he breathed in adamant¡ª

    A weirdness.

    Mark stopped.

    Mark sat there for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. He had breathed in adamant and felt, like, a tingling in his... bones? Yes. In his bones. The tingling was still there. As Mark sat there with half a breath in him, the feeling gradually faded away.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±

    Mark breathed out weakness to balance himself more, and then he breathed in adamant, and this time he did not stop. He felt his bones almost magnify, or something. It was like¡­ like a warmth?

    Mark tried breathing out adamant¡ª

    He instantly coughed out blood, his chest hurting, his body aching. With a flick of intent he started beating his heart with resilience and weakness again, healing himself. He stopped coughing and¡­ Well. He looked at the blood he had coughed up onto himself, and onto the bathroom floor and bathtub.

    It was a bit¡­ gritty.

    Mark kinetically plucked his adamantium from his coughed-up blood. Soon, he kinetically held a tiny black dot of metal a fifth of the size of a grain of rice.

    ¡°¡­ Huh. Okay. So¡­ Huh.¡±

    And then Mark realized that he was in a non-secured location, practicing magic, and possibly exposing that he could produce adamantium himself¡­

    But at the same time¡ª

    ¡°Oh fuck you, Addashield.¡±

    ¡ªMaybe name-dropping that damned archmage would prevent potential spies from thinking they could capture him, or do other nefarious things to get at his adamantium. Would someone try to cut him up to get to his bones? Absolutely. Mark never used to think in that sort of way, but his naivety was wearing off. Heck! He was here in Wolf Bayou looking for people who had tried to kill him for his adamantium.

    There were apparently lots of shitty people out there¡ª

    Something wanted to kill him.

    What the fuck?

    Mark startled, and then Mark focused.

    He had been casually sensing the vectors all around him, in the background. Mostly, those vectors of attention pointed in unconcerning directions. People in the rooms across the hall, totally focused on each other and probably having sex. People on the streets, walking this way or that, and some of them in hurries to get wherever they were going. A few people had vectors pointing in every possible direction, which made them hard to read, but Mark had figured out that they were probably the Hearthswell people, repairing the city, or maybe other kinds of people, doing other multi-vector things. The people with very small vectors, all pointed in all directions, were sleeping. Not many people were sleeping.

    A lot of the city was awake at this hour.

    Who had wanted to kill¡ª

    There.

    Someone was in the hallway outside of the room, walking toward the door to this room, and they wanted to kill Mark. They knew where he was, and they wanted to kill him¡ª

    The vector pointed inward, even as it continued to walk down the hall, and it wanted to kill¡­ itself? And then the vector wanted to kill the walls, or something like that. And then the vector pulled inward and relaxed, or some other weird thing, and the desire to kill vanished.

    It was as though the vector simply didn¡¯t happen¡­

    The fuck?

    The much-calmer vector continued toward Mark and Isoko¡¯s door, looking like a completely normal vector, only lightly looking at Mark and Isoko¡¯s room.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Was that just a casual blip of murderous intent? Or something else entirely?

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard anyway, and he focused on himself and Isoko, who was laying down in the other room, strengthening both of them. Isoko¡¯s sleeping vector, which was pointed in not many directions at all and mostly silent, suddenly jolted.

    Isoko launched to her feet, still half asleep, but she was awake fast. ¡°The fuck was that?! Mark?¡±

    Mark stepped into the living room of the suite, saying, ¡°Someone is coming to our door.¡±

    For a moment, Isoko didn¡¯t understand. And then clarity came to her. She had only taken off her breastplate to sleep and she hadn¡¯t even gotten under the covers, which was exactly because she was worried she would need to move fast. She had been planning ahead, and it helped. Isoko turned toward the door, her hand going for her wooden sword, but it halted.

    ¡°Do I need the breastplate?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Isoko put the breastplate on, anyway. The whole thing slipped over her head, and then she clipped the tabs underneath her arms¡ª

    A knock at the door.

    Knock, knock!

    Mark stood up, getting his adamantium ready. Isoko was already fully platinum. She grabbed her wooden sword and the sword turned platinum, too. The wooden sword still looked sharp. Mark was surprised that Isoko had managed to keep the sword under her platinum Tactile Telekinesis the whole day, but maybe he shouldn¡¯t have been that surprised. Isoko had stamina.

    Mark looked to Isoko.

    Isoko stood ready. She nodded.

    Mark said, ¡°Come in.¡±

    The door opened and Greenwolf stood on the other side.

    Oh! It was just Greenwolf!

    Mark smiled. ¡°Oh, hello!¡±

    Greenwolf locked eyes with Mark, below his green mask, and spiked with a desire to kill. And not just to kill Mark. To kill the people down below in the other rooms. To kill Isoko. To kill the people in the streets. Greenwolf wanted to kill absolutely everyone.

    Well that was perfectly normal, wasn¡¯t it? Who didn¡¯t want to kill everyone around them occasionally?

    ¡­ Mark blinked, his smile faltering as his thoughts didn¡¯t make sense.

    Greenwolf pulled back his killer instinct and became the calm investigator that Mark had spoken to before. His body language was perfect. His stance was easy going, yet professional. He had mud all over his boots and pants and shirt and his clothes were torn, and then his clothes were fine and Mark ignored the incongruity. Greenwolf was always getting into messes, after all. Or maybe it had been a trick of the light!

    Why, ever since Mark had met Greenwolf years ago, the guy was always getting into shenanigans¡­

    ¡­ What?

    Mark was having trouble¡ª

    Greenwolf said, ¡°Greetings, Mark Careed. I¡¯m here with the results of your requested investigation, and to bring you to the after-kaiju party. Would you please cut off your head with your adamantium?¡±

    Mark happily said, ¡°Sure!¡±

    He turned all of his adamantium into a blade and swiped through his neck.

    The adamantium deformed¡ª

    Isoko lunged with her sword right at Greenwolf, faster than Mark had ever seen her move¡ª

    An insistent thought vibrated through Mark¡¯s mind.

    ¡®Kill Isoko.¡¯

    Phhbtt! The fuck?!

    No, he was not going to kill Isoko. Mark would never kill another person, ever, and especially not Isoko¡ª

    Isoko stabbed into Greenwolf¡¯s stomach, her sword hitting non-vitals as she yelled, ¡°Mind Controller! Is there a city AI here! We have a murder attem¡­ pt¡­¡± Isoko faltered, her platinum skin fading as she shook her head, stepping away from Greenwolf. She let go of her sword.

    Mark felt weird.

    Greenwolf pulled the sword out of his body with a grunt, and then he handed it back to Isoko, into her guts. The wooden sword shattered but drove rather far into her body, anyway.

    ¡­ Why was Greenwolf trying to kill Isoko?

    Greenwolf¡¯s desire to kill spiked and he did not bother to hide it this time. He glared through his half-mask at Isoko, his eyes aflame, red and brown, as he told Isoko, ¡°Drive that sword into your heart, girl.¡±

    Isoko gasped, clutching the fragment of wood in her chest, her words coming out strained as she blinked a lot. And then she gripped the sword fragments strongly, breathing deep, pushing it inward.

    Isoko collapsed to the ground, bleeding out.

    Isoko was injured.

    Mark needed to do something.

    He healed Isoko, because obviously she shouldn¡¯t be dying¡ª

    ¡°Stop healing her, Mark,¡± said Greenwolf. ¡°Watch her die.¡±

    Mark stopped healing Isoko¡­

    Why did he stop?

    No.

    No.

    This was wrong.

    He needed to do something. He needed to think. Something was wrong¡ª

    He needed time.

    Mark breathed in alacrity, and the world slowed down.

    And just like that, Mark disconnected from the normal flow of time, which seemed to be enough to throw him so far out of Greenwolf¡¯s perceptions in order to break the mind control, or at least that¡¯s what Mark¡¯s instincts were telling him.

    Because a top-tier mind control effect shattered, revealing Greenwolf as the older Mind Control woman.

    The one who had tried to kill him on the shores of the Ohio River.

    Beyond the surprise of seeing her, Mark¡¯s next series of thoughts rapidly vibrated between securing the safety of Isoko, the realization that as soon as he stopped breathing inward he would lose his alacrity, how to kill the older woman and if he should, and, looking at the old woman, Mark wondered what she had done to herself.

    She was all sorts of fucked up.

    Pale pink flesh, like hardened sunburns, marked her cheek and ran up her face, looking almost like a handprint. The fingers ran into her dark hair, turning the hair bright white, leaving streaks in the brown locks. Her skin outside of that handprint wound was old. Much older than she had been. One eye was brown. Her handprint eye was bright red. She was dirty. Her clothes were tattered, bloody, and soiled. She stank. Mark hadn¡¯t smelled her stink until now, until he had stepped outside of her control, but there it was. Did she shit herself? Maybe.

    Mark was halfway through his inhale.

    He needed more time to think, to figure out if he should kill the older woman or if there was another way. He did not want to kill her, but she was trying to kill Mark and Isoko. This time her attempted murder was going to succeed, unless Mark did something he did not want to do.

    Mark needed more time.

    He did something that was perhaps very stupid, but he did it anyway. He brain-danced with alacrity and weakness.

    Instantly, a monstrous headache loomed and Mark¡¯s sense of time divorced itself even more from normal reality. His heart seemed to stop, but it was still beating just fine. The Mind Control woman stared at Mark with hate in her red and brown eyes, looking like she was in the middle of saying something, of yelling at Mark, at being angry. But nothing came out fast enough to control Mark at all. Isoko stopped breathing, but no, Mark was just that much faster than her right now, mentally.

    Mark had both a single moment and ten minutes before he passed out. Powers insulated their users from most backlash, but they didn¡¯t do the same to others¡ª

    Huh.

    Mark had a lot of thoughts. Mark had been prepared to find and then talk to this Mind Control woman¡­ somehow. Figuring out how to find her and then what to say to her would have happened later, when he had actually tracked her down and talked to her. But she had found him first, and she had decided to go for the kill. Greenwolf had been assigned to find her, though, and he obviously had. The woman had come to them under the illusion of looking like Greenwolf.

    What had happened between Greenwolf taking Mark¡¯s information, and then him finding the older woman? Was Greenwolf still alive?

    That didn¡¯t matter right now.

    ¡­ Mark had to kill her. He couldn¡¯t risk putting her down with Union. Not after her obvious power-up.

    Mark had shrugged off her strongest mind control the last time, but this time he was under her influence before he had a chance to realize he was under her influence. Isoko had even fallen to her control, but at least when the old woman focused on Isoko, she had loosened her power over Mark. Isoko had bought them both a chance to live.

    Isoko was already almost dead.

    She would be, soon, unless Mark finished this fight in their favor.

    Mark still tried to think of another way, but he knew of no other way, and the woman was too strong right now.

    Perhaps, Mark could have killed her with his adamantium if he had been prepared for the physicality of that sort of action. His adamantium was currently all wrapped around his own neck, though. She hadn¡¯t known that Mark couldn¡¯t injure himself with his own adamantium¡­ She had tried to kill him a second time already.

    Anger loomed.

    First, she had tried to kill him in an ambush on the road, in the wilds, thinking him an easy target. Now, she was coming after Mark again, for any number of reasons, and she still thought him an easy target.

    She had grown overconfident in her Power.

    She probably killed a lot of people who couldn¡¯t fight back at all. She had had complete control over him, just as she had over Isoko, who was dying in slow motion on the ground.

    Based on the wavy handprint on her face, something big had happened, though.

    Demonic power?

    The Cult of Thrashtalon?

    Those were rare cases, but Mark¡¯s mind went right to those as explanations for this oddity he saw before him. Mostly, people got powered-up with temporary magics and the Powers of specific other people. A Buffer could power someone up a great deal, but this woman had walked through Wolf Bayou to get here, so she was displaying power far beyond what she had displayed before, and a Buffer couldn¡¯t do that much¡­ right? Before, she had gotten a nosebleed when she tried to force Mark to believe her lies last time, when she had stolen Mom¡¯s face.

    A flash of rage. A need to kill.

    Mark didn¡¯t know this woman at all, but he fucking hated her. So goddamned much. So much hate. The floodgates were opening and Mark was furious.

    How would he do it?

    If he brought the woman into his Union of Brain, alacrity, would she rip herself apart like Isoko almost had, or would she slip back into Mark¡¯s flow of time, and take him over? She would take him over if Mark brought her mentally into this space, wouldn¡¯t she. Her power probably acted at the speed of thought. Too bad for her that her thoughts were so much slower than Mark¡¯s right now.

    ¡­ Mark was delaying what he knew he had to do. His inhale was done, and he was about to exhale weakness again. His mind was still his own, flickering with a Union of alacrity and weakness. His heartbeats had yet to get to the next one¡ª

    Ah.

    He didn¡¯t need to risk bringing the Mind Controller into his Union of Brain, Alacrity.

    He switched up a few things, knowing he would survive, and the woman would not.

    In the moments of the switch, Mark felt something in the air trying to grip his mind, to rip into his soul and tell him what to do. To stop resisting. Mark wasn¡¯t resisting anymore, though.

    He went for the kill.

    Mark¡¯s astral heart pumped out alacrity and weakness, giving the woman all of Mark¡¯s own weakness and the physical speed, while Mark took all of the woman¡¯s mental speed.

    She never knew what hit her.

    The woman gasped, clutching her chest, her voice cut off in a gurgle and sputter of blood. The air screamed as her voice could not. Instantly, every single vector in the immediate area looked her way, all of them hearing the wordless scream. The woman was focused completely on Mark, but then she was focused on herself, like a black hole forming and drawing everyone else in.

    Perhaps, Mark thought, if he was better at controlling the forces of a Union, she would have died and it would have been over.

    But Mark wasn¡¯t that good with Union yet. He got a lot of physical speed, too.

    Mark felt a tenth of what the woman felt, and he already felt like he was dying. Muscles twitched in his back and legs, the same ones that held him upright, and then those muscles tore. His lungs pulsed with diaphragm movement. And then his muscles pulled at his bones, and his bones cracked. His heart ripped apart in his chest, but his astral body pulsed that much stronger once it was broken from its organic limiter.

    His actual blood veins burst under his skin, casting deep purple lines wherever his astral veins came out of his body, like his black veins were casting purple shadows.

    His head felt like it was going to burst.

    The same thing happened to the Mind Controller.

    Mark had no idea how he did it, but he kept his mind going fast, out of sync with the older woman¡¯s timeframe, to stay out of her grip, while his heart beat faster than humanly possible, ripping itself apart. The older woman experienced everything as a normal person, with a normal perception of time. Mark got a ten minute experience of her death.

    Her eyes turned violently red as veins burst. Blood pooled like cold syrup from her eyes and nose, and Mark felt his own nasal passages fill with blood, choking out his breath.

    The woman¡¯s skull cracked open at the top. A rupture of blood broke through her skin on her left arm, like a fissure opening. Her pants turned deep red with spreading death. The sword wound that Isoko had given her suddenly exploded with blood, like a hole opening in a water balloon. She still had a light in her eyes.

    She was still standing as Mark watched that light go out.

    She was dead, and Mark had killed her. He had killed a person. He had done that.

    He was going to be sick.

    He severed his Union and started beating out resilience and weakness with every iota of his being.

    Time rapidly advanced, from slow motion to way too fast.

    The Mind Controller exploded.

    Flesh and blood filled the room, warm and sometimes hot against Mark¡¯s face, reminding him of the time he connected to those cleaner plants, the tube-like things in that lesson with Lola, when she was teaching him about Union. Hot blood and bony viscera felt a lot different than cold plant goo.

    And then Mark realized that Isoko still had sword fragments stuck in her own chest.

    Inside alacrity, time had passed slowly. Here, in the real flow of time, ten minutes passed in a forgotten heartbeat as Mark frantically pulled out the sword from Isoko¡¯s body and then connected to the embers of her existence, still flickering inside of her mind. He healed Isoko and Isoko eventually gasped as her heart regrew and her blood pumped around too many splinters. But purity/impurity cleared those splinters quickly. Mark cried as he held her and Isoko sobbed a little and held him back. Mark was pretty sure he apologized and Isoko said something about how no, she was sorry, and it was her duty to protect others. Mark tried to tell her it wasn¡¯t her fault at all¡ª

    ¡°I have the Mind in the 70¡¯s, Mark, and I was Unioning with Durability as soon as I felt her attack,¡± Isoko softly said, ¡°I should have been the one protecting you. I¡¯m so, so sorry.¡±

    ¡°That woman was messed up. Something was too wrong. You distracted her and I should have gone for the kill like you did. I faltered.¡±

    Isoko just shook her head.

    Mark said nothing else.

    They were both alive.

    Mark had killed someone.

    Mark sat on the edge of his bed. Isoko sat beside him, holding his hand, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure how they had gotten here. Both of them were already clean because they could just do that, but the room was still a mess, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure what to do right now.

    Isoko said, ¡°She almost killed me. She made me kill myself.¡± She whispered, ¡°I should have been practically immune to mind control.¡±

    Mark rapidly realized that Isoko was freaking out, too, and for a whole lot of deep reasons.

    Mark said, ¡°You opened the way and I took the shot, and we won. It was messy. We can do better next time.¡±

    Isoko sniffled. ¡°¡­ Yeah.¡± She straightened. ¡°We¡¯re alive.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°We¡¯re alive.¡±

 106

    Kendrai dreamed of something that she never got to finish, for a whisper of her god and former lover came to her, shocking her awake.

    Murder has happened in your city.

    Kendrai shot awake, sitting up in her bed, bedsheets spilling off of the bed as she grabbed her red wolf mask, already calling out, ¡°Whitewolf! Greenwolf! Someone was murdered¡ª¡±

    The War for Life touches Wolf¡¯s Bayou.

    ¡°¡­ Shit.¡± Kendrai strode out of her bedroom with her mask on, the technorganics lining the walls of her Palace illuminating the hallway as though they were simple lights, and not a whole lot more than that. But those ¡®lights¡¯ helped to send her voice to all of those those who needed to hear, as Kendrai called out, ¡°Some fucking demon is here!¡±

    The technorganic veins in the palace pulsed red with worry, and then they shone red with flickers.

    Mayor Emilia Ramirez of Memphi spoke in the walls, ¡°Is it still alive?¡±

    The God of War and Murder whispered into Kendrai¡¯s soul,

    The demon is still alive in the viscera that remains of the murder it committed against its host, the Mind Controller woman spoken of by the Union boy. The host targeted the Union boy but got caught by Freyala¡¯s Chosen. The demon murdered the host through inaction.

    It is a demon of Thrashtalon.

    It has mutated the Mind Control of its host, in death, to Body Manipulation.

    A shock of ice seemed to filter through Kendrai¡¯s guts and up her spine. She had sent Greenwolf after that investigation into the local Mind Powers.

    Was Greenwolf dead?

    ¡­ No. Probably not. He probably timed himself out to keep out of danger. He¡¯d be back later. Him timing himself out was always a last ditch effort, though. Usually he timed others out. But against a demon of Thrashtalon, of course Greenwolf would time himself out.

    Kendrai started running, shouting orders, ¡°It¡¯s a demon of Thrashtalon! All hands to all powers! Prepare to counteract demonic Body Manipulation!¡±

    Fuck, this was going to be a big fucking demon kill.

    Mayor Ramirez spoke through the walls, ¡°Containment Crew is on their way.¡±

    ¡°FUCK! ¡­ I guess we have to box them.¡±

    Fuck fuck fuck.

    - - - -

    Mark looked at the viscera on the ground, all around the room. Blood and bone lay in piles and in splatters on the walls. Red gore dripped off of a sconce by the door, flopping to a chair and then further onto the marble floor. It splatted. A bunch of stuff was splatting as Mark and Isoko sat there, on Mark¡¯s bed, in the only clean spot in the room.

    It sounded almost like rain.

    Mark stood up, saying, ¡°Should I clean it up? I was thinking that any investigators would want to look at it but¡­ but I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    Isoko sniffled, then stood up, looking strong and fully platinum. ¡°If we clean it then they¡¯ll think we hid it, right? Standard operating procedure¡­ I have no idea what SOP is right now. But¡­ Grandma told me once that if I ever accidentally killed someone in a training accident to never hide the body, and to always come clean. Running and hiding anything always made it worse.¡± She solidly said, ¡°So I guess we¡¯re doing SOP and leaving the remains where they are.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, the vectors all around Mark paled in comparison to a new vector arising from the ambient atmosphere. It pointed at Mark, and then to Isoko, and then to the room and the dead body everywhere. The pressure of it took Mark¡¯s breath away.

    Isoko noticed Mark, if not the vectors in the room. ¡°What?!¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Someone is looking at¡ª¡±

    The feeling of being Seen seemed to focus on this space, and Mark almost panicked. It was like standing under Addavein, as the dragon stared down at him¡­ But it was actually not that bad? No. This wasn¡¯t Addavein; Addavein was hibernating. This was something with a lot more points to it. It wasn¡¯t just one giant vector. It was ten thousand smaller vectors, and they all came from the walls, the¡­ the television? Isoko¡¯s phone, sitting on the table between the beds? The wires in the walls. Everything¡­ electrical? They were all looking at Mark, at Isoko, and at the remains¡­

    And then some small vectors appeared among the viscera.

    The viscera started to move.

    To undulate.

    To slip toward each other, like a thousand slugs of various sizes and body parts, from fingers to guts to eyeballs, so many eyeballs, all gathering up into¡ª

    A face appeared from the viscera, but without the burned handprint upon it.

    The Mind Controller.

    She looked older, and yet younger at the same time. Less full of hate. More filled with joy.

    She grinned¡ª

    Mark rebelled, hatred and terror flowing in his mind as he blasted the pile of viscera with a lightning strike of purity/impurity, decaying it, splattering what remained. He carved with adamantium. He slapped apart with blades of black. He attacked the eyes and the tongues and the fingers and the body parts as they tried to gather, to become whole again, but the piles just came together in other parts of the room.

    A voice Mark had never heard before spoke through a hundred whispering mouths, opened up around the room, in the piles of meat, saying, ¡°Tsk tsk tsk! So violent¡ª¡±

    Isoko joined in the destruction, slapping the nearest mouth, one of the larger ones, splattering it, even as her own heart beat with purity/impurity, and the viscera on her body evaporated. How had she gotten gore on herself again? Mark had cleaned all of that off! Isoko splattered apart more and more body parts, like she had been doing that this whole time. Ah. She had been killing right alongside Mark. He hadn¡¯t noticed that right away¡ª

    The body parts laughed.

    There were too many body parts!

    Mark exclaimed, ¡°How the FUCK is there so much viscera?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s multiplying!¡± Isoko said, as she slapped a large mouth on the wall that was giving her a raspberry.

    The larger piles grew legs and dashed in every direction, trying and failing to escape Mark¡¯s slashing adamantium. They laughed and gurgled as Mark killed them. They laughed even more.

    Isoko smashed with her feet and slapped with her hands, crushing and breaking whatever she could touch, breaking marble floor and wall as she attacked the whatever-it-was, yelling, ¡°What the fuck IS IT?!¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t know! All I know is it needs to die!¡±

    A massive pile of flesh became a frog-person that launched at Isoko.

    Isoko used her forearm and hand as a knife-edge, slashing down at the thing, even as the thing opened up sideways, all the way, unzipping into teeth and tongue and mouth. The taunting body parts had changed tactics. They were trying to kill. They had been running but now they were killing and Mark didn¡¯t have a chance to tell Isoko that she shouldn¡¯t take that frog head on. Mark¡¯s heart beat hard and Isoko was going to get beheaded¡ª

    Isoko changed tactics, dodging underneath the thing, and the monster crashed into the wall behind her. She had moved so fast! Mark didn¡¯t have time to think about that right now.

    Mark carved the ¡®frog¡¯ into little pieces of meat as he zapped it with purity. He should have evaporated the whole thing, but one pile became many, the monster splitting into a dozen small people to laugh and run in multiple directions. The little people were fully formed! Fully formed 5-inch-tall people! How was it¡ª

    Oh no.

    Holy shit it was getting better at controlling its own gore.

    It was getting better.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Mark and Isoko were only able to do so much.

    Isoko gritted her teeth. Rage filled her face as she struck again, her palms slapping tiny people to death, purity/impurity only partially working to erase whatever the monster was. Isoko cracked the floor with a strike and the floor broke downward, right before Isoko spun and brought her hands together to splatter a tiny person who had been running at her. That tiny person became a splash of gore that painted a wall and became ten different small people, running away in every direction, hopping down through the cracks in the floor and out of the window. They laughed.

    Each small person was a copy of the Mind Controller woman.

    Mark felt the vectors of each and every tiny person. He killed as many as he could, slicing them down to size and then breaking them apart with purity-impurity. But the monster was playing with them, wasn¡¯t it? Laughing and combining and chasing and getting away when it could.

    Mark connected to the little shits with a brain-power Union of decay.

    Instantly, every single miniature monster-person in the room turned into piles of mush, blood sputtering outside of their tiny bodies. Mark should have done that sooner. Holy crap, he was unnerved.

    The laughter stopped, but the piles of mush were still alive. Like slugs, the vein-less slugs escaped through the broken floor and the outlets and the open door, but Mark switched to cleansing them and so did Isoko, and some of them died.

    Most got away.

    Within 30 seconds of the start of the second fight, the fight was over.

    The fight was just beginning.

    The reformed things had fallen out of sight, into the background. Someone yelled down below. Something crashed in the hallway. A flash of heat burst through the cracks in the floor as someone down there yelled about tiny people¡ª

    Someone across the hallway screamed a death scream, their vector going from gentle-sleep to wildly-awake, as tiny vectors invaded their own. Mark couldn¡¯t see what was happening over there, but he imagined people climbing into a body, through skin and other places, and ripping the person apart. That¡¯s what the vector was telling him.

    He hoped he was wrong.

    Mark connected to that larger vector, the person, as strongly as he could, healing them while they were being invaded. They screamed even more, and more vectors woke up in that room and got involved. If that encounter would have lasted more than a few seconds, Mark would have done more, but as soon as the other people in that room woke up Mark heard small explosions and the tiny vectors scattered. The invaded person was still screaming, but Mark was healing them and they weren¡¯t infected right now.

    He heard laughter underneath the screams. The tiny people had been diminished, but they remained.

    All around him, Mark felt the tiny people scatter to the wind, their vectors feeling like distant goblins.

    ¡°What the FUCK!¡± Isoko exclaimed, in the broken, bloodless room. She asked Mark, ¡°Can you still feel them? Kill them?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Mark reached out as he was already doing, trying to feel for the small vectors all around. He caught the most obvious of the small vectors¡ª

    A chill ran up Mark¡¯s spine because he failed to touch any of them. All at once, every single connection he made to the little monsters was rebuffed. He could still sense them in his Unionsense, for they were still actors upon the world stage, pulling this way and that in their own existence and directional desires, but he could not touch them.

    For a moment, Mark blanked. He had felt this before, hadn¡¯t he? This inability to connect?

    He tried again.

    He grabbed onto some of the small vectors, but others rebuffed him, breaking his Union of Brain and Blood. Were they ridding themselves of their brains and blood, somehow? Maybe that was it?

    No.

    It was something worse.

    ¡°Something changed. I can¡¯t connect to most of them. And some of them are¡­ are too strong to connect too?¡±

    Mark reached for them and he connected, but then the small monsters did something. Mark felt it as they did that something again and again, every time Mark tried to connect. They broke the connection¡ª

    Oh.

    Mark recognized what he was feeling. He recognized that ¡®something¡¯ that they were doing. It was like a twist. A sideways step. It felt like an astral body slap. Like a denial.

    Mark knew this feeling because he had experienced it a few times already.

    It felt exactly like what Addavein did to disconnect Mark, the few times Mark had connected to him.

    There was a strong mind in those monsters that knew how to disconnect Mark¡¯s attempt to touch them; that could feel Mark try to connect to them and thus break that connection. It was simultaneously stronger than the mindless crystal-winged kaiju from earlier, and weaker in every other possible way, because the astral bodies of those tiny things were small, yet smart¡ª

    Those bodies were a hive mind.

    The hive mind knew things beyond a normal hive mind.

    It was a demon.

    It had to be a demon.

    A hive mind demon in an unkillable, growing body.

    Mark knew, in every ounce of his being, that the thing that had been the Mind Controller was now a demon¡ª

    Isoko was at the door, looking left and right. ¡°They all vanished?!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re still out there!¡± Mark said, ¡°It was the Mind Controller woman I told you about, but that was not the person I remembered. I think that was dem¡ª¡±

    The television and Isoko¡¯s phone, sitting between Mark and Isoko¡¯s bed, turned on. A servitor announced, ¡°Demonic activity in your area. Body Controller small demons. Don¡¯t let them get big. Burning and flesh destruction kills them. Cutting only makes the problem smaller. Greater response formulating.¡±

    The phone and television went silent.

    Mark heard the same announcements echo in the hallway of the Grand Hotel¡¯s fifth floor.

    A second later, the servitors started saying, ¡°Demonic activity in your area. Kill every small moving thing around you that you don¡¯t recognize. Further instructions to follow once demonic motivations are further identi¡ª¡±

    A stapler sitting on the nightstand gained a vector and began crunching Isoko¡¯s phone, though it did nothing to stop the message coming out of the television.

    Mark swiped his adamantium through the stapler, splitting the thing apart at the hinge¡ª

    Two small people, one larger than the other, appeared out of the broken halves of the stapler, each of them laughing as they ran in opposite directions.

    The little shits could turn into objects.

    Mark made cages out of adamantium and grabbed both of the small people, only to find he had captured bits of rock instead. The rocks didn¡¯t even have vectors anymore. Oh shit, these things were adapting fast.

    Mark crushed on the rocks, turning them into splatters of goo.

    A single heartbeat of purity and impurity was enough to kill the smaller splatters of goo, erasing them from existence, while the larger splatters turned into a few marbles and tried to roll into cracks in the ground.

    Isoko stomped on the marbles, roaring as she did so, saying, ¡°FUCK YOU!¡± each stomp pulsing with a purity and impurity of her own.

    Some of the marbles gained feet and small legs in order to run faster.

    Mark crushed everything that moved on its own.

    But the problem was everywhere, now, and hidden, vectors turned silent, as monsters melded with the environment, becoming mindless ambush predators that only acted when they needed to. Mark couldn¡¯t sense anything in the room besides himself and Isoko and the thing lurking in the electronics in the walls.

    Mark was a little worried.

    Isoko chuckled wildly, ¡°I think we lost our marbles, Mark!¡±

    Mark stared at her, asking, ¡°You okay? You good? Don¡¯t crack on me, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko took a breath and calmed. ¡°¡­ I¡¯m good. Sorry. That was weird. Sorry. But it¡¯s a fucking demon! No wonder it could overpower my resistances! Holy crap!¡± She took another breath, and then she focused. ¡°I¡¯m good. Let¡¯s kill some demonspawn¡ª¡±

    The television announced, ¡°Attention, civilians: Do not engage with the demon. Do not attempt to leave the area. A plan has been formulated and is here.¡±

    Mark went to the window and looked outside.

    The sky was filled with light; hovertrams, heroes flying on their own, spotlights turning night to day¡ª

    The spotlights gathered.

    A beam, as though someone had opened the sky to a world of light, shot down onto the road beyond the next street over, demarcating a line of brilliant white, erasing the night and highlighting all the buildings. More lights shot down across the other streets, and Mark rapidly realized what was happening. He had seen them do this on television sometimes.

    It was a Light Box.

    When Light Boxes went up, the outcome was almost always certain death.

    Mark said, ¡°They¡¯re boxing the area.¡±

    Isoko stood beside Mark, watching a wall of light become the edge of their world. ¡°Oh shi¡ª¡±

    The box completed.

    The sky was soft white light and nothing existed beyond 150 meters in every direction. The vectors of the world beyond vanished, along with all the vectors in the walls, watching them from the electronics. The world was contained to a cube, centered on Mark and Isoko¡¯s room here at the Grand Hotel.

    Mark rapidly tried to think. ¡°What happens in a Light Box, for real, Isoko? All I know is that the people inside almost never survive.¡±

    Isoko stared at the light outside. She looked lost, and yet sturdy. ¡°They¡¯re not always death sentences. They¡¯ll send people inside to combat the threat¡­ hopefully. If they¡¯ve sent people inside, then this is a survivable fight. So we fight, Mark. That is all we can¡ª¡±

    A building across the road from the Grand Hotel began to fall apart, like it was soft cheese, melting in an oven, the top of it falling down like soft ice cream onto people who were either screaming or cursing, or something like that¡ª

    Mark felt water, heavy as stone, fall onto his back. He almost faltered, but he remained upright.

    The ceiling began to rain down on them like liquefied stone, crushing into Mark and then slapping aside, everything turned to liquid that was not liquid at all. It was multicolored. It was stone and wood and nails and wires, turned to melted matter. Everything melted, except for Mark and Isoko.

    The somewhat-panicking vectors of everyone else in the light box turned to full-panic, some people flying up out of the melting world, and most falling down into the melted world. But people and living things did not melt.

    Mark¡¯s clothes fell apart, flopping down to the holey floor that was itself slipping down in rivulets, the entire Grand Hotel and the whole city melting down into multicolor muck.

    Mark complained, ¡°This is another one of those formative events, isn¡¯t it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Isoko said, watching her own clothes fall away. ¡°Could do with fewer of those.¡±

    Mark laughed just once.

    And then Mark and Isoko dropped through the melting floor.

 107

    The Light Box went up perfectly.

    Kendrai gave the people inside a 50% chance at surviving this. Better than most odds in this sort of scenario.

    Kendrai sat in her control booth, watching it all unfold in her scanners, as she watched the Containment Crew work their magic. This particular Containment Crew came directly from Memphi, and they used the normal artifacts and personal magics as any CC, so Wolf Bayou wouldn¡¯t be writing off that huge section of land in the middle of itself. Kendrai disliked having CC here, but today, because of the demon, CC came in with all of Collective Temple at its back. It was more than what she could have pulled in from her own Church of Drakarok, though those guys were inside the Light Box, too.

    No one messed around when it came to demon attacks.

    Demon, kaiju, dragons. Those were the only things that humanity on this side of the Veil responded to properly, in Kendrai¡¯s opinion. Everything else was lax. They didn¡¯t treat their criminals hard enough, for example. They always opted for exile instead of execution.

    This whole event right here was because of that decision to exile, instead of execute.

    But it was all going to be over soon, one way or another.

    Kendrai hoped that Mark kid made it out of this mess. He was going to be a superhero one day, but not if he got sniped this early in his life. The demons knew that, too.

    And so did Thrashtalon.

    Whitewolf stood tall as he asked, ¡°How far along are we, Crew?¡±

    He had spoken to the main leader of the Containment Crew; the only one who could talk right now. All the rest of them were linked hand-in-hand.

    Without turning or looking their way, the lead man spoke mechanically, ¡°ETA 90 seconds to illumination of threats. Melted material has reached 90%. Melting is almost complete. Estimated loss of life for melting is holding true at 0 deaths out of 397 enclosed people. We expect the enclosed people, and the ones we seeded inside, to be able to negate the threat in a timely manner. Estimations of time for clearance is 2 hours¡­¡±

    All the rest wasn¡¯t important. Their ¡®negate the threat in a timely manner¡¯ wasn¡¯t as helpful as ¡®2 hours¡¯, which put this ordeal firmly in the ¡®we might be able to rescue all those people¡¯ category.

    50% chance of success; just like Kendrai expected.

    Kendrai looked at the scanners set up around the containment zone. The zone itself was a giant box of white hardlight, supplied by one of the members of the Containment Crew, and expanded to extraordinary proportions by the shared astral bodies of the rest of the crew. That sharing was made possible by the leader, who was a Seer of phenomenal power. Looked like a different Seer than the one Kendrai used to know. Did Paul retire? He might have.

    Kendrai would have to greet this new guy afterward.

    She turned her attention back to the screen.

    Whatever their faults, at least Earthlings knew how to build a box.

    ¡°¡­ And this demon is being rather well-behaved,¡± Kendrai mumbled to herself, frowning.

    Whitewolf spoke up, ¡°Reserves are prepared for the real fight, if such should happen, but the predictors indicate that this demon¡¯s true strength is in hiding.¡±

    Kendrai simply nodded as she stared at the screen.

    - - - -

    Mark fought baby-sized humans on a multicolored mud lake under a sky of brightest white.

    He was nude and that was not a big deal; not really. Everyone was nude. Everyone was fighting baby-sized monsters, or getting protected from baby-sized monsters, or burning the lake of mud, or trying to get themselves out of mud.

    There was no getting out of the mud. The mud was omnipresent¡ª

    No wait. Over there, some guys were hauling people out of the mud and onto stone, but the stone was getting overrun by tiny people swimming out of the mud. Mark went over there and blendered some of the smaller monster-people before he Unionized a blast of purity/impurity out into the world, erasing most of the gore from sight and stripping mud from people, exposing wounds that he began to heal.

    Some things squirmed in some of those wounds, but other people were on the job, actively helping, or ripping the worms out of their own flesh.

    It was a chaotic mess.

    Some brawnies who could Tactile Telekinesis well were standing on top of the mud, like Isoko, and most of them were able to do that, but some people, like Mark, were stuck in the mud. Someone yelled about support for the sinkers, getting the brawnies to help hold people above the mud, but not many people had ever trained for such a thing, and most people were sinkers.

    Fires bloomed over there, burning things. Air pulsed over there, burning even more things. Some plants grew here and there because Mark was supporting their growth, because he was in a Union with every single person in the enclosure and everything else besides. But people were burning the plants.

    Mark wanted to tell the fire brigade not to burn all of the plants because he needed those plants to help clean the air, to absorb the impurity that he was putting out there. But then one of the plants turned from a bush into a tangle of teeth-covered vines and started to whip at people, growing larger with every passing second as it sucked up gore from the mud all around. The fire brigade burned that one next.

    Someone yelled at someone in the fire brigade, complaining about breathable air, while someone else, much louder, shouted them down, talking about how air concerns were being taken care of.

    And then the Light Box flickered. The white light became something more, something different, and the chaotic mess of monsters in the mud and people unable to exit the mud and man-eating trees became intelligible. Red light illuminated everything demonic inside the light-cube, and now some rocks floating on the surface, some mosses growing in Mark¡¯s Union-group, and even one of the people hiding among those who were unable to fight, were all illuminated brightest red.

    The red illuminated things were the demon.

    And the mud began to evaporate into twisting wisps of dust, circling upward and out of the fight, out of the top of the Light Box¡ª

    Thousands of little red dots flew up and out of the mud, up into the air, to follow the streamers of dust up and away¡ª

    Fire bloomed overhead at the top of the box, bright red and then deep yellow, the heat of it all contained overhead. The red-lined demon bugs struck the firewall and burned, instantly.

    Some guy stood up, yelling, ¡°Attention everyone! I¡¯m Inquisitor Jake from the Collective Temple! The Light Box is up and active and we will get through this in an orderly fashion! The mud is evaporating! The fires are killing the demons! The only thing we have to do is survive this fight, and we¡¯ll survive the night!¡±

    The demon never stopped crawling out of the mud to get to people, to attack their feet directly above the surface and disrupt their tactile telekinetic hold on the surface, to drag them down. But now there was a plan, and now that Mark looked, he saw that there had been a plan all along.

    He saw the people standing tall on the mud¡¯s surface, and the people flying just above the surface, and he saw the vectors of everyone gathering into a better formation, a unified whole. Mark joined that Union instinctively.

    The fight redoubled but the fight wasn¡¯t so chaotic anymore.

    There was a flow to it all, and though Mark couldn¡¯t touch the demon, he could Unionize with everyone else. Some guy with Telekinesis got the strength he needed to lift himself and several other people out of the mud. Inquisitor Jake had some sort of earth-kinesis Power, so he solidified the stone underneath him, pushing all the small demon-vectors out from below his area, securing a bulkhead against the demons. And the people started to move with purpose, away from the largest groupings of demon monsters and allowing the fire brigade to blast flames and heat at monsters-pretending-to-be-people and monster-monsters who lurked in the mud like jaws waiting to lunge and bite.

    And all the world was a melted mess.

    Mark¡¯s adamantium was fine, though. Apparently the melting ¡®mud magic¡¯ of the illuminated cube couldn¡¯t affect his PL 79 metal. Other things with similar high PL¡¯s floated in the mud. Mostly knives; small bits of metal. Mark even found some adamantium, floating among the mud that had once been the Grand Hotel and the other nearest ten buildings. One second, he was fighting across the mud, and the next second, he stepped onto something that cut his foot, but he also came away with a ribbon of new adamantium, a good two meters long.

    The rest of the thing he had stepped on turned out to be a mithril kaiju blade that Mark handed over to Isoko.

    ¡°Aww thanks!¡± Isoko said, as she slapped the mithril blade at a pair of flying frogs.

    Someone, an older man who was currently standing on the solid ground made by Inquisitor Jake, saw Isoko and shouted, ¡°That¡¯s Wolf Bayou property!¡±

    Inquisitor Jake told the guy, ¡°She¡¯s using it right now.¡±

    The guy didn¡¯t care about that. He stared harder at the sword, and then freaked the fuck out. ¡°Where¡¯s the adamantium edge?!¡±

    Mark sliced through monsters under the mud and above the mud, saying, ¡°I¡¯m using it right now!¡±

    Whatever the older man said beyond that, Mark did not hear.

    Mark ripped apart a few dozen small babies that crawled through the mud at him and then he blasted them with purity/impurity. He couldn¡¯t actually destroy them at all. The demon only had a moment of weakness when Mark disrupted its bodies. What survived turned to slugs once again and escaped into the mud. Mark didn¡¯t bother chasing them.

    The fire team was the one actually killing the demon; everyone else was backup or on defense.

    Mark called out to the older man, ¡°I¡¯ll give it back when this is over.¡±

    And then the fire team was moving their way. One fire guy who wasn¡¯t getting along with the fire team¡¯s program was currently yelling at the fire team¡¯s leader, who was some Inquisitor that Mark didn¡¯t know, who also had fire powers.

    The Fire Inquisitor commanded Mark, ¡°I need you on defensive, Mister Careed! Back up!¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t say a thing. He trudged through the muck, back toward the solid land. Isoko grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along, walking along the surface, dragging them both away. They hadn¡¯t really gotten out of position at all, but the battle was a constant mobile thing, except for the center where the solid land held and people fought off things that crawled out of the muck at them.

    The fire team blasted the ground where Mark had been, and the mud burst with burned babies.

    Isoko let Mark go when they were pulled far enough to ¡®safety¡¯. Mark frowned as he looked into the mud around the island, beyond the people, to the space under them. Tiny vectors flowed in the mud down there, and even under the island. Inside the island, too.

    Mark said, ¡°This is fucking impossible. They just keep multiplying.¡±

    Isoko sat down in the mud, saying, ¡°We¡¯re out of immediate danger. This is just a cleanup event now.¡± She looked up at the box. ¡°How wide is the box now?¡±

    Mark had a good idea of the size of the box, but his senses didn¡¯t extend past the box. It was some sort of truly-solid magic. Mark looked up at the white expanse, and at the walls, sensing what he could, and he said, ¡°It was 100 meters square, or something like that. I think we¡¯re at 80 meters square¡ª No. Wait. Oval, now. I think they¡¯re closing it off faster. When did it become an oval?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°About five minutes ago¡ª¡±

    ¡°Everyone up!¡± Inquisitor Jake yelled, ¡°Everyone up! We¡¯re moving the island! It¡¯s got monsters underneath it!¡±

    Isoko asked Mark, ¡°How deep is the mud right now?¡±

    ¡°Like 7 meters, or something,¡± Mark said, ¡°I can¡¯t exactly tell. Thin at the top and thick at the bottom. It¡¯s still evaporating, too.¡±

    Wisps of stone flowed into the sky, into the firewall at the top of the Light Box.

    Some woman Mark and Isoko¡¯s age heard them speak, and cheerfully said, ¡°It was at 10 meters! So 7 is good! Right?¡±

    And the island of rescued people got moved.

    Inquisitor Jake made solid land in front of him, into the part of the mud pit that was freshly cleared of monsters, and people walked behind him. He let the land go further behind those people, the solid land turning back into mud, releasing a fresh batch of horrors into the mud. They had gotten themselves wedged into the solid stone that Jake had made, but now they wiggled free, laughing.

    People tried not to freak out.

    Demons showed themselves and Mark was there along with a few others in the group, cutting them down, burning them, or slicing them apart and splashing them away. The group resettled in another part of the mud flats, with fewer demons underneath it.

    The demon takedown had started with complete chaos, with everyone falling into ¡®mud¡¯ and floating on top of that mud, and all material possessions destroyed, but now it was kind of rote work. Mark trudged through mud with others who walked on the mud, the floor underneath the mud not really solid at all, and people killed miniature people, and monsters, and rocks, and anything else that might glow red. The fire teams came through, burning the demons.

    And the walls shrunk¡ª

    Inquisitor Jake yelled out, ¡°Okay! The ground is 5 meters deep now, and the infection is under control! We¡¯re going to start evacuating people now!¡±

    The relief among some of the people was enough for them to cry. Jake called out for volunteers to stay, first, and Mark and Isoko both independently raised their hands to stay. They both grinned at each other.

    Jake called out, ¡°Fliers, take these people to the top! One at a time!¡±

    It was more chaos, but Mark didn¡¯t need to pay attention to that. He just killed monsters.

    A hole opened up in the roof and people started getting evacuated, while ¡®birds¡¯, glowing red, tried to fly out of the place. The demons tried everything to escape, from worming into people who had no idea they were infected (the demons had some sort of Body Control that allowed for numbing venoms) or they tried to hide in people¡¯s long hair (which wasn¡¯t really working, since the demons still glowed red under the white light), or they tried producing toxins that paralyzed and killed (but that was a complete failure, since Mark and Isoko and other cleaners were on the job).

    The rescue at the roof of the white room took out all the elderly or the infirm, first, which wasn¡¯t much since only a few people actually lived in Wolf Bayou full time. Twenty minutes after the first batch escaped, the next batch went, which included people who were going crazy from the situation. Inquisitor Jake told everyone that they were NOT free to leave, and that they¡¯d be in quarantine for days, so they shouldn¡¯t expect to just be free after this. That warning seemed to calm people down some; this was not over as soon as they escaped the demon. The next group contained everyone who wasn¡¯t contributing to the cleaning.

    Mark trudged through the muck, approaching hour number 2, saying, ¡°Somehow I imagined killing a demon to be less troublesome and more troublesome than this.¡±

    Isoko laughed as she walked on top of the mud beside Mark, her edge-less, borrowed kaiju-blade held on her shoulder. She grinned, platinum and reflective in the light, saying, ¡°You could try standing on your adamantium more.¡±

    ¡°I am!¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m still sinking in.¡± He looked to the side where some people were almost swimming in the mud, as the group moved to another area. ¡°I think the mud is getting thinner.¡±

    There were only 50 people left in the Light Box by now, and the monster attacks were commensurately greater. Mark was basically blending monsters all the time under the muck, and the demon seemed to be okay with that. Demons were fucking crazy.

    The thing was laughing, still, and Mark was pretty sure that it didn¡¯t care about actually winning the fight. It just wanted to inflict pain on itself and on anyone else it could reach.

    Inquisitor Jake overheard Mark and Isoko, over the increasingly loud laughter of the monster. He said, ¡°It is getting thinner. The magic that made the containment cube is getting denser as the cube gets smaller, so the mud evaporates faster, but we¡¯re trying to keep the level of mud about the same. If the monster has nowhere to flee or hide, or people to torment, that is when things get really dangerous.¡± Jake looked around at everyone looking at him, and reiterated what he had said a few times already, ¡°This is going to get a lot more dangerous, and soon. Be ready for it.¡±

    The demon laughed. ¡°I can¡¯t wait!¡±

    Some other guy, who was deep in the ¡®water¡¯ called out, ¡°I can¡¯t do this anymore! Can I be next to leave!¡±

    Jake looked up.

    Mark looked up, too.

    There was a lot of fire up there.

    Jake said, ¡°Soon as the fire clears, that means that the current group is done and more people will be allowed to leave.¡±

    The guy treading water, one of the fighters who was killing demons with some sort of tiny bursts of black light happening all around him in the water, complained, ¡°Fuuuuuuck.¡±

    Mark asked him, ¡°Are you really having trouble? There is help.¡±

    Jake said, ¡°Get on the raft. Now. You¡¯re reaching a limit.¡±

    The guy said, ¡°I¡¯m fine! I¡¯m just bitching.¡±

    The guy was barely holding it together, but he was holding.

    ¡°Get on the raft, sir,¡± Jake said, more strongly.

    The guy ¡®relented¡¯, getting on the raft. He cried a little, but then someone tried to say something softer to him and he said, ¡°I¡¯m fine! I¡¯m fine. I just had¡­ I had my journals I was turning into a book. It¡¯s all mud now.¡±

    The guy got a lot of sympathy for that.

    Jake told the guy, ¡°You can be on the next trip out.¡±

    The guy said nothing.

    Isoko said to Mark, ¡°You and I are here until the end, I suspect.¡±

    Jake said, ¡°You are. Thank you for assistance with Union, Mister Careed. Paladin Isoko.¡±

    Mark felt a little bit better about everything. ¡°No problem.¡±

    ¡°Glad to help!¡± Isoko said.

    Everything seemed ¡®good¡¯ right now, for a certain definition of ¡®good¡¯, except for whatever horrors the demon would unleash once it was truly cornered, once the mud was gone and it couldn¡¯t hide anymore. Inquisitor Jake and the other guys still seemed to think that this was absolutely winnable.

    But what would happen afterward? Was Mark going to get blamed for the demon? The Mind Control woman had contracted with a demon in order to come after him.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡­ Mark carried on.

    Soon, the fires overhead faded and the next group got to go. Treading-water guy shouted for joy and started crying when he got to go, to be lifted up with the others.

    And the light box got smaller. The liquid buildings, rocks, and dead organic matter, all got thinner. More watery.

    Demonic vectors appeared out of what had been harder mud, at the bottom of the light box. Mark blended those demons apart, and he found out something he hadn¡¯t gotten a chance to realize quite yet. Something fun, for a change.

    Much like how Mark expected to eventually be able to fly by spinning his adamantium fast enough to provide thrust in the air, but which he was incapable of doing right now due to his adamantiumkinesis still being ¡®body locked¡¯ to normal physical actions, normal physical actions were more than enough to push against the hard mud, to rise above it all. Mark realized that he might not be able to fly with his adamantium yet, but he could certainly swim really, really fucking fast.

    With enough spinners and the extra adamantium, Mark actually ended up stepping out of the water for the first time in 3 hours. It was not easy, and Mark faltered a few times, but eventually he managed to turn his ¡®caltrops¡¯ into ¡®propellers¡¯.

    Mark shoved his propellers at all the little demon monsters lurking below the multicolored ¡®waters¡¯ of the melted city block, churning up blood and viscera in the shallows the entire time, too.

    Isoko grinned as she watched him ¡®hover¡¯, while Isoko merely stood above it all, her bloody sword already being purified by her own breathing. She looked away, still grinning¡ª

    Someone screamed about being attacked ¡®underwater¡¯ and the fire brigade was already there, helping the man directly, while Mark and Isoko supported everyone with Union healing and protection. It was not an abnormal exclamation of need. The demon liked to take bites out of people all the time, and leave behind hidden presents inside healed flesh, but Mark and many others in the light box could tell when a person had been infected.

    As some specialized healers dug out a worm from the recently-attacked man, the man quietly asked for something from the healers, but Mark couldn¡¯t hear what had been asked. The fire brigade burned demons, Jake moved the island across the box, and some healer nodded to the recently-attacked man, and the man looked relieved¡ª

    ¡°I have a request!¡± the Mind Controller woman exclaimed, from where she stood at the far side of the light box, her voice cutting through all other noise. It was not her, of course. It was the demon pretending to be her. To use her body for its own desires.

    The fire brigade set upon her instantly. She burned. It was not the first time the woman had spoken.

    She was speaking to everyone who could possibly listen, all the time. In small mouths here. In whispered tunnels in the muck there. She hadn¡¯t taunted Mark yet... Or maybe she had tried, but Mark was fast enough to kill those beasties before they could speak. Every time an unknown vector appeared within his range, he killed it.

    And now the demon was taking form and openly stating the intention to want to talk to Mark, but from too far away. Mark couldn¡¯t kill it when it was that far away.

    Jake roared over the battle, ¡°Expect the real fight to start soon, and then never stop even after we kill it! Demons aren¡¯t like humans! They don¡¯t live here! This is not their real life! Her real actions are counted in tiny measures over years and decades, and in the words of poison she says to you right now! Do not listen¡ª¡±

    She stepped out of the liquid stone on the other side of the light box, saying, ¡°Five minutes to talk to Mark! And then I will peacefully depart this mortal coil!¡±

    The fire brigade set upon her. She burned.

    Mouths began to rise from the liquid remains of the city block, like bubbles, each of them speaking, ¡°I have too many bodies and you¡¯re beginning to fail to remove me fully from those I have infected. You will have to turn this entire trap into a death zone to be rid of me, and as soon as my mind vanishes from here¡ª¡±

    The fire brigade and Mark and everyone else with any ability at all to kill the mouths, all acted in concert, all of them burning and slicing and purifying whatever they could. Most people were brawnies, though, so they slapped the mouths, or stomped the mouths, breaking them as much as a slap could. Isoko was one of the few people with a weapon, and she used it to crush and slam into the larger monsters, splattering them when she could.

    Mouths began to boil out of the mud, multiplying and expanding, eyes appearing, everything lined in red illumination, marked as demonic.

    Jake yelled out, ¡°Transition to big fight!¡±

    Oh fuck, here it was.

    The mouths continued to speak, ¡°¡ªI will activate the sleepers you didn¡¯t manage to find out there. You cannot kill me. There was never any hope!¡±

    Mark blendered bright red flesh as he floated above it all, and nothing was working well enough. He couldn¡¯t touch the demonic lake with his Union at all. People screamed out orders, and Mark connected to them, everyone supporting each other. The lake opened with jaws and teeth to swallow people floating on the surface, to bite and chew and then spit out, alive yet on death¡¯s door. Mark and Isoko and others frantically healed those people and killed those mouths, but those spitting mouths just reformed elsewhere and laughed.

    And Mark¡¯s hatred grew.

    Or rather, he was facing his hatred he had locked away for the past several months. Over a year, really, since he had first met Addashield and then been locked into a coma, only to come out of it with magics and power that wasn¡¯t given to him because it would help him, but because it would help Addashield, and then Addashield went and avoided all responsibility by dragonizing, and then¡ª

    It was all too much.

    He had put all of his real thoughts about this particular Light Box situation onto the backburner for multiple reasons. The demon was a terror and it had almost killed everyone inside the box ten times over, but the demon was a known entity, and the various combinations of Powers and people in the room would eventually kill it. Already, the ¡®wood¡¯ part of the mush in the ¡®water¡¯ was gone, burned away, and the smoke was further burned away and purified as it exited the top of the kill container. All that was left in the ¡®water¡¯ was liquefied stone and other solid, unburnable materials.

    All the trees were gone. All the plant matter was ash that already left on the wind.

    And they were going to kill it.

    But now, it was fighting back, for real, and Mark¡¯s Union was stressed to keep everyone alive and healthy, for there wasn¡¯t much ¡®world¡¯ to connect to, here in this Light Box.

    Mark was stressed.

    Even with Healthy Body and all his power, he was in a box with a demon. It was almost as though he was inside of the box that he had shoved all of his bad emotions into. It made him grimace to think about that, as he killed more and more demon spawn.

    ¡°Never any hope at all!¡± said the smaller mouths as tongues of razor teeth slipped out of the mud to strike at whoever they could reach, dragging them down into pits of horror. ¡°Die die die!¡±

    But the speedsters in the group were on the ball, and Mark supported those people and their rescue targets, while the fire brigade burned everything they could. Some of the liquid stone became liquid lava. It was still just a tier 0 material, though, so the demon¡¯s bodies only got burned a little when they were inside the lava. Still, the lava further zoned the monster, reducing the space it could freely occupy.

    Most of the stone atomized, turning to vapor that exited upward.

    The kill box became an oven and Mark sweated as he breathed out impurity, into all the little plants he possibly could. But the plants were all dead under the onslaught of heat. There was no regrowing what did not exist at all.

    Mark¡¯s fury tracked with the heat of the kill box. He cut off grabbing hands with his adamantium, slicing through faces that tried to bite him as his hatred grew and grew. He watched as Isoko ripped a guy from a burning maw, kicking away teeth. Snapping jaws opened under her feet to swallow her legs and draw her into the liquid stone, but Jake was there, solidifying the stone under her feet and Isoko got out of the way of those big jaws, and then Mark was there, blendering the jaws to mush.

    Some people flew into the air, trying to escape, but they had been doing that every so often and they couldn¡¯t keep it up for long. They weren¡¯t used to running their powers endlessly, and even if they were¡­

    Mark couldn¡¯t keep up with the demand on his own Union, on his own expelling of weakness and bolstering of astral bodies, to keep them going forever. His heart beat with resilience and weakness, black veins extending into the air, into the light box, much further than they usually extended.

    Faint black lines connected him directly to Isoko, bolstering her the most.

    But there was nowhere for the weakness to go. Not anymore.

    Miasma gathered in the burning fires of the fire brigade, everywhere that something died and couldn¡¯t be cleaned away. Purity could only do so much, and someone at the roof of the enclosure was already trying to keep the air clear but keep the demon contained. They weren¡¯t cleaning the air enough, and Mark wasn¡¯t able to stuff more miasma into the air, for the air was already saturated¡ª

    Something blossomed at the top of the light box, like an unfurling gold light.

    Every single person and even the eyes of the demon turned upward.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he heard him, but he heard Jake say, ¡°The fuck?¡±

    Power literally rained down like drops of liquid light, falling upon Mark and Isoko and everyone else in the light box. Mark felt rested and whole, and strong. All the miasma in the entire box vanished in a brilliant rain of light, and the demon screamed from every possible mouth as it retreated back below the liquid surface.

    The ground began to strongly evaporate, to fall up and away, becoming little more than light that sunk into the firewall at the top of the cage. Here and there small birds and bugs, outlined in red light, tried to escape through the firewall, but they couldn¡¯t leave that way, not unless they were killed and atomized.

    Jake shouted out, ¡°Now we kill it!¡±

    Golden light dropped into the mud and the world rumbled as the lake evaporated, revealing roiling flesh that screamed even as it turned to spikes and teeth and began slamming against the white walls, hammers of bone and nails of teeth all cracking against the white light. All of it lay atop a white light floor, and every person dropped onto that floor.

    Mark blended all the flesh he could reach. The fire brigade burned the ground. Isoko slashed with her borrowed kaiju blade, breaking apart the largest beasts, while every other brawny punched and kicked the ground, breaking what they could break. Some of them had managed to find other weapons in the muck of the Light Box and they used those weapons. The Grand Hotel had probably had an armory in its basement. People flew above the mess¡ª

    ¡°No,¡± said the demon, calmly, almost too calmly. It did not scream anymore. It attacked the walls, and completely ignored the people killing it, attacking it. ¡°This is not my end.¡±

    Mark and everyone else tried to kill it faster.

    ¡°I am not dying here.¡±

    If only he could connect to it. If only he could break through this damned resistance! Whatever it was that allowed the demon to keep itself separate, untouched by Union, Mark needed to break it.

    ¡°I have too much left to experience.¡±

    Great hammers of bone rose from the flesh underfoot and started slamming into the walls, and into the people. A pillar of bone slammed into Mark¡¯s right side and sent him flying, his adamantium blenders ripping out of the flesh. Something broke in his own body, in his arm, the flash of being moved so easily overshadowing all pain.

    He healed his body and carved into the bone pillars that came for him, all the world seeming to fall to chaos and death. People screamed. Despair and rage warred with the need to kill, and Mark found himself lacking. His blades didn¡¯t carve deep enough. The golden light had dispelled the miasma in the air, but Mark was already pumping more miasma into the air, and so was everyone else.

    Mark needed to be stronger.

    Mark needed to be more than he was, but he would never get there. He was going to die.

    He was going to die.

    Isoko was going to die.

    Mark needed strength¡­ Or, barring some sudden inspiration that wasn¡¯t coming, he needed time. Time away from the battlefield. Time to think.

    Mark breathed in alacrity for a moment of peace.

    Time slowed, and Mark had a moment when he wasn¡¯t fighting for his or another person¡¯s life.

    The demon wanted to talk to him, right? Yes. It had said that. After a moment of thinking, Mark decided he would allow for a talk later, if he didn¡¯t figure out how to kill the thing, first. But first came the fight.

    How to fight, though?

    Right now, Mark¡¯s primary problem was the size of the Light Box and being cut off from ways of dispersing miasma. Whatever the Light Box was doing, it was completely cutting them off from the outside world. The miasma was building again. Mark doubted they would be putting more of those ¡®golden drops¡¯ into the Light Box to clear everything up, because even Jake had been surprised by that. Mark suspected that someone was out there, helping them, in abnormally strong ways.

    ¡­. Mark looked at the demon he was fighting.

    Eyes and legs and hands and maws. It was like melted people and half-formed monsters, everywhere. The Light Box was the floor and the walls, and the demon was the ground. Mark¡¯s adamantium could easily rip apart the monster, and it even did damage to the walls, but Mark didn¡¯t want to damage the walls too much.

    He wanted to hurt the demon. He needed to weaken the demon and fight it directly, though, and adamantium alone wasn¡¯t cutting it. Union wasn¡¯t able to touch the demon at all.

    His adamantiumkinesis was probably PL 082-ish right now, and his Union was somewhere around there, too, but Union couldn¡¯t touch the demon for whatever reason. And it wasn¡¯t just a Power Level reason.

    Demons had Power Levels in the 90s in every category. It was that innate power that they shared with archmages when they bonded to an archmage. So, perhaps, the demon was able to simply flex its Power Level to ignore Mark¡¯s Union?

    That made some amount of sense.

    Why, then, did adamantium still work to harm the demon? Why was adamantium used against kaiju, too? Both situations had the target as PL 90-ish in all categories.

    Union could be used against unaware kaiju, though.

    There were a lot of thoughts there, all of them coming together, in the moment.

    Adamantium was a special biometal. The hardest metal in the Two Worlds. But it was more than that, wasn¡¯t it. It was magically special. Unique. It wasn¡¯t an element, like carbon or titanium. It was a magical metal.

    And Mark made adamantium in his bones, in his blood. Just like Addavein, just like all adamantium-producing creatures, Mark made adamantium. He fucking hated Addavein, but the bastard was strong. All adamantium-producing creatures were strong, in all sorts of ways.

    Mark was strong.

    He was a vector of adamantium, and would crush all opposition with adamantium strength, in all ways, and not just in the strength of his actual adamantium. But in his Union, as well. In the Union of Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union itself, Mark would break all parts of the world he disliked, and that meant demons most of all.

    Before, hours ago, Mark was wondering what ¡®Adamant¡¯ meant to him, specifically, and that¡¯s what it meant.

    Breaking everything that needed to be broken.

    Mark¡¯s breath of alacrity finished, the world sped up, blood and viscera and venoms and fire and lightning flying everywhere.

    Mark¡¯s Union beat with adamant, digging into the gore demon with a shattering of black lightning, breaking its attempt at separation from the Union Mark held in his soul. Lightning spread. The demon screamed a sonic wail, trying to break Mark and everyone still in the box with it. But they weren¡¯t in the box with the demon anymore.

    The demon was trapped in the box with Mark and his allies.

    Mark tore at the demon with the full power of Union, giving it weakness in turn, and somehow his black lightning spread deeper into the monster, becoming lines of power that Mark used to shred the beast. Bone columns sliced to piles that decayed into Mark¡¯s Union, becoming more black veins that broke and cut, just as much as they bolstered every human on Mark¡¯s team.

    Isoko raged at the monster, splashing apart skinless monstrosities that came for her with their claws and jaws open wide.

    The fire brigade burned everything as they raced on the clear, glowing white floor, turning monster to miasma, that further flowed into black veins and got shoved into the monster all over again, weakening it further.

    Mark was in charge of this space, and the demon was going to die¡ª

    ¡°One minute! I¡¯ll talk for one minute, and then leave!¡± the demon begged.

    ¡°Just die,¡± Mark spoke, and every other person in the Union spoke with him.

    Mark¡¯s black veins pulsed into the demon, rending vast swaths of him into blood.

    The demon called, ¡°Become an archmage linked to me, using the same contract that Kanda used for Addashield, and you will have it all!¡±

    Mark raged.

    But a cage of teeth and mouths surrounded him, trying to block him off from everyone else. Mark spun black veins and long lines of adamantium through that cage, breaking it fast, but not as fast as the cage reformed, and thickened¡ª

    And then spellwork appeared. Giant crystals of blue and black light, spun from eye stalks, shattered out of those ¡®staffs¡¯ and carved limbs from human bodies. People screamed¡ª

    The attacks stopped as soon as they started, as the demon said, ¡°I can do worse!¡±

    Mark faltered.

    ¡°I can do a lot worse,¡± the demon said. ¡°I promised myself I wouldn¡¯t, but I can. This Light Box only exists because I¡¯m having fun right now. I¡¯ll stop having fun and go for a genocide roll if you don¡¯t stop and listen to me, Mark Careed. I came here for you.¡±

    Giant eyeballs opened up in gore that stretched to the ceiling, each of them radiant with blue and black crystals, each of them focused on people who were already injured. The message was clear. They were guns pointed at heads. All at once, the entire fight went out of the group.

    They saw their deaths.

    The 50% survival rate had them on the wrong side of the coin flip.

    ¡°One minute, then you die without hurting anyone else, and leave this world behind,¡± Mark said, even as he continued to connect to the people, to heal them.

    But Mark didn¡¯t fight the demon, and the demon backed away, gore condensing, more and more eyes opening everywhere, though the black and blue spellwork crystals began to fade.

    ¡°Contract with me, using Kanda¡¯s original contract but modified for personality, and I will help you kill Addavein,¡± the demon said. ¡°I will help you resurrect your parents! I know of the High Elves of Endless Daihoon, and I can show you the path to those places. I know of the true secrets of Godhood and adamantium and demons of all kinds, and I will tell you those secrets. I am the demon Leash, and I would have you become a god¡ª¡±

    Jake yelled, ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him! Don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    But then the demon¡¯s body became teeth that grabbed the paladin and dragged him away.

    The demon did not kill the man, though. Jake¡¯s vector was still there and Mark still connected to him, keeping him alive and mostly unscratched by those gnawing jaws. Jake would survive. He¡¯d heal.

    Isoko whispered, ¡°Mark.¡±

    The demon did nothing against Isoko.

    The demon continued, ¡°I would have you become that which will remake the world, evaporate the Veil, heal and inoculate people with magic so that Curtain Protocol does not need to exist, and so much more. All good things, too! I would have you become the true superhero that I know you want to be; not this villain that your brother is making you become. I will do all of this and more, and I will not require you to kill people like in Kanda¡¯s original contract.

    ¡°I would have you kill Addavein, and take your revenge upon him, for I have a desire to end Kanda¡¯s line, forever more. And not just him, but everyone who allowed your parents to die, there in that bunker. They should have been better protected! Holy Mother Julia Garin and Detective John Smith and Orange City are all culpable for your parents¡¯ deaths, and they should all pay! But most of all, one above all deserves the most ire.

    ¡°Addashield!

    ¡°I will tell and show you how to separate dragons back into demons and humans. Once separated, you will bring back Addashield so that you can claim your revenge upon Addashield himself. And I will tell you how to permanently kill demons, so that you can do what I want, too:

    ¡°Revive and then kill Kanda. Permanently!

    ¡°Ending her astral line forever!¡±

    Mark felt himself shudder; there, in a sphere of gnashing teeth and unseen mouths, everything glowing red and bloody, Mark felt a horror that had nothing to do with the gore all around.

    He wanted to say yes.

    But...

    The demon continued, ¡°Of course you do not trust me right now, but now you know my name. You know my desires. You may call upon me whenever you wish and I will give you tastes of power, Mark. As a start, here is one such taste:

    ¡°You, specifically, are using your Powers all wrong.

    ¡°I was ready to talk to you about using Adamant in your Union, but you figured that one out, though you have a long way to go with that one. So here¡¯s a better hint, further along the path. Do you know why adamantium is the strongest metal? Why you expel black veins? Why the metal is black?

    ¡°Because adamantium is mana of a certain type, made solid through the actions of life and crystallization, and it is a mana that is in your very soul, Mark Careed! Solid and unyielding! Adamantium is crystallized mana!

    ¡°Now ponder the meaning of that for the rest of your life!¡±

    The demon laughed.

    Mark had questions but none of them were for the demon, except one. ¡°Who was the woman you killed to get to me?¡±

    ¡°Mary Getty. Adopted mother of the Brawny Peter Getty that you cut the arm off of, and who died to a water tiger monster because he was wounded. Mother of the Ice Shaper, Cassandra Getty, who died to a speedy rabbit when Peter wasn¡¯t there, for he was their usual front line. Mother to the Mesmer Victor Getty, who succumbed to the kaiju fall, when Mary and Victor were hiding out north of Wolf Bayou, trying to decide what to do next,¡± Leash said. ¡°Mary survived by a miracle, and then she heard you were instrumental in killing the kaiju, and she went to Thrashtalon looking for solutions to her rage. And now we are here.¡±

    Shock.

    Dismay.

    A rage of his own.

    Mark put his rage into a box, and said, ¡°It¡¯s been over a minute. Kill yourself and leave.¡±

    ¡°Kill me yourself, if you can! I¡¯ll even let everyone else leave, first!¡±

    ¡°No. We had a deal. I listen for a minute and then you kill yourself. Honor it and begone, demon.¡±

    The walls undulated, and teeth fell away, revealing mouths that laughed and decayed. The mouths laughed and laughed and laughed! And the demon died. Red scanner-light that was marking everything demonic, began to turn off, as flesh turned to black sludge. Mark beat his heart with purity and impurity, erasing the sludge all around him, crashing through the death of Mary Getty¡¯s mutated body¡ª

    Isoko broke through the black sludge around Mark, exclaiming, ¡°Mark!¡±

    Mark stood at the bottom of a clean space in the black lake that was the demon, his black veins connecting him to everyone, though his power of adamant was fading. There wasn¡¯t an enemy to shove the weakness into right now, so Mark¡¯s power faded, and he allowed it to fade. He said to Isoko, ¡°Hey, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko stepped onto the spot of light with Mark, asking, ¡°Is it really dead?¡±

    Mark looked around, saying, ¡°Its vector is gone and the black stuff is vanishing, too.¡±

    Paladin Jake was there in the middle of the field, black sludge falling off of him. Everyone stood at the bottom of black-sludge web-like scaffolding, all of it decaying, all around them. The spellcaster eyes were gone, and now it was just cleanup. Jake called at the fire brigade to start burning again, and flames licked into the sky. Black smoke filled the air, but it didn¡¯t touch any of the people.

    Mark said to Isoko, ¡°Unless it¡¯s hiding and also a liar, it¡¯s gone. Based on it wanting future events to happen between it and I, if it lied to me, to us, right now, then I wouldn¡¯t believe it ever again, so I doubt it lied. It should be gone.¡±

    Paladin Jake was there, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t ascribe to demons human ideas.¡±

    Mark¡¯s box of rage almost opened.

    Mark snapped at him, ¡°FUCK OFF. I am not in the goddamned fucking mood right n¡ª¡± Other people were looking his way. Mark said to Jake, ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean¡­¡± He stopped talking.

    Jake looked at Mark for a moment longer, then he turned and started talking to the group about preparations to leave the Light Box, and what would come next.

    Jake was suspicious. He was not the only one.

    Mark overheard the fire brigade leader saying, ¡°What did I say at the beginning of this. What did I say? They all even acknowledged it. Don¡¯t go talking to the demon, no matter what.¡±

    Mark continued to Unionize in silence, with Isoko and her giant mithril sword beside him. She was silent, too.

 108

    Without warning the light box shattered.

    Spotlights were on, and Mark and Isoko and everyone else were suddenly standing at the bottom of an excavation, maybe seven meters below the surface. Some people were flying in the sky overhead.

    Mark instantly recognized one of the fliers in his bright silver fullplate.

    The superhero Justicar; the son of High Priest Julia Garin.

    Mark didn¡¯t recognize the other guy flying beside Justicar, who was wearing layered robes that fluttered all around him. It was that second guy¡¯s strong voice that filled the night.

    ¡°Great job! You killed the demon! Apparently we had some demon still outside the box, too, so whatever you all did to get the demon to leave was the correct choice! As long as it wasn¡¯t a demon contract, of course! Ha ha! We¡¯ll be checking everyone out for demon infections, but I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re all gone.¡± And then the guy¡¯s voice turned softer, more concerned, as he floated down closer, saying, ¡°That was a pretty rough night, wasn¡¯t it. We¡¯ll figure out the whole story soon enough.¡± The guy set down on the ground and started conjuring blankets, handing them out to people who were slow to take them, but they rapidly sped up. Blankets got wrapped around naked bodies, as the unknown guy said, ¡°Don¡¯t you worry! Wolf Bayou might not be a part of Memphi, but against demons everyone is on the same side.¡± He handed Mark a blanket.

    Mark took the blanket, his voice a weird thing as he said, ¡°Thank you?¡±

    Other people had climbed in the hole to hand out blankets. Inquisitor Jake had created an earthen stairway out of the hole. That had happened pretty fast.

    The robed-guy smiled to Mark. ¡°Nice to meet you, Mark.¡± He nodded to Isoko as he handed her a blanket. ¡°Isoko.¡± He said to Mark, ¡°Superhero Garin is going to take you and Isoko out of here, so please move along.¡±

    And then Garin was there, floating a little above the ground, saying, ¡°This way.¡±

    Mark and Isoko walked up Inquisitor Jake¡¯s stone staircase, out of the hole, and into a softer sort of interrogation by superhero Justicar himself. It was just a few questions, it was just a few answers. And then Mark and Isoko got some basic browns to wear and an escort into a hover tram, where Lola stood, looking absolutely stricken.

    Lola softened when she finally lay eyes on Mark. She sniffled. ¡°Hello, Mark. Getting up to trouble again, then?¡±

    Mark felt some of his rage fall away. ¡°Only some. Do you know about the measures that were taken to protect my parents from Addashield?¡±

    The demon Leash had infected Mark in a way beyond the physical when he had spoken of the failures of Orange City and Church Freyala to protect Markus and Donna Careed from Addashield. Mark had gone back and forth on whether he wanted to actually pursue those questions, though. In the end, he decided to give in to those questions.

    He needed to know what he had been blinding himself to for months, now.

    Lola looked a bit sad as she said, ¡°I have been waiting for this discussion for a while. May we adjourn back to Memphi to have some coffee and speak in a nicer setting?¡±

    Mark felt some odd kinda way. Trepidation? Worry? He didn¡¯t know. He was about to say ¡®yes¡¯¡ª

    Redwolf spoke up from the side, ¡°I would have a moment before you leave.¡± Without waiting for agreement, she said to Mark, ¡°You pulled some extra adamantium from a kaiju blade we kept in storage below the Grand Hotel. You can either keep it and come back for a big discussion later, or give it back now.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh! Uh.¡± Mark stood straight. ¡°Of course. It slipped my mind.¡±

    Isoko didn¡¯t have her mithril kaiju blade anymore, but Whitewolf, who stood behind Redwolf, had his grip on the sword. The sword was 3 meters long, so most of it lay on the ground.

    ¡­ Mark partitioned out his adamantium¡­ and he found he really, really didn¡¯t want to get rid of any of it, and not just because he wasn¡¯t sure what was his versus not-his. His total amount of adamantium had been 7 little balls of adamantium, along with some adamantium dust sitting in the vault of Citadel. What he had here, currently in his astral body, was over double what he had had at the start of the night. It was so nice to have more adamantium to work with.

    Mark almost considered keeping it, since that was one of the offers, and making a promise to come back here later. But he didn¡¯t want that.

    He was not a thief.

    Mark looked at the kaiju blade in Whitewolf¡¯s grip, at the length of it laying on the ground. ¡°How much adamantium is in an¡­ uh, kaiju blade?¡±

    ¡°45 million goldleaf worth of adamantium. Now it¡¯s 28 million goldleaf thanks to your brother, but more and more people are using it for more applications, so the price is going back up, and fast. I need that 780 grams of adamantium, Mark.¡±

    Blackwolf, who was standing near Redwolf and who had probably teleported both of them to this space right here, brought forth a scale.

    ¡°780 grams! Okay!¡± Mark took the scale and set it on a nearby table, and he dropped off some adamantium, drop by drop. It felt terrible to rid himself of any of his weapons, but¡­ He wasn¡¯t about to become a thief. ¡°780 grams is normal for a kaiju blade?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Redwolf said. ¡°Standard size.¡±

    Mark dropped off more adamantium until it measured 780 grams. And then he stepped away, feeling lesser. Fuck. That was a lot of weapon he was leaving on the table¡­ But he wasn¡¯t a thief. He looked at the blade in Whitewolf¡¯s hands, and asked Redwolf, ¡°I can draw it into a blade edge? Save your people some manufacturing costs¡­ I think?¡±

    Redwolf said, ¡°Unnecessary and unwanted. I don¡¯t trust new metal mages to make a kaiju blade at all. Please give me thin rods each 10 centimeters long, equaling roughly 2.5 meters of length. More rods are better than fewer.¡±

    ¡°Understandable! So lengths of metal, sure!¡± Mark pulled the pile of adamantium pieces into rods, rapidly making a pile of a hundred long toothpicks on the scale, and then he stepped away. ¡°780 grams!¡±

    Redwolf took a big brown paper grocery bag from Blackwolf and handed it to Mark, saying, ¡°The blackened tuna steaks you requested for the party. Half cooked, half raw to cook on your own, and a few other foods, but mostly the tuna steaks. Also, the information we found out about those four people you were looking for, but I assume you have learned enough based on what the demon told you. Come by anytime you want, Mark, and we can discuss what we left out of the report about Thrashtalon and the demon Leash.¡±

    Mark held the big bag and it felt weightier than it was. ¡°Thank you. Nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, too,¡± Redwolf said, ¡°Come back sometime for the coliseum matches. Most of them are just to first dismemberment. It¡¯s a lot more real than the fights most Hero Villain Program gets up to. It''s a lot more useful to learn how to fight that way.¡±

    Redwolf walked away into the shadows of Blackwolf, and then she was gone. Whitewolf went elsewhere, picking up the sword to walk with it to the rescue area, where people were being interrogated and picked through for infections.

    Mark got into the hovertram with Inquisitor Lola. He startled when he saw that Inquisitor David was in the front seat, driving the thing¡ª

    Isoko spoke from outside the door to the tram, saying, ¡°See you later, Mark.¡±

    Mark almost asked what was wrong. Why was Isoko staying out of the vehicle? But then he realized that he wanted to talk to Lola about¡­ everything. Isoko saw that much, too. And yet¡­

    Mark said, ¡°We can go back to base before we start talking, and some of this food is for you. Please come, Isoko.¡±

    Inquisitor Lola nodded a little.

    David spoke up, ¡°Come sit up here in the navigator seat. I¡¯ll let you drive to Memphi.¡±

    Isoko grinned, and then she got up into the vehicle, into the navigator seat. The doors closed and soon they were up, into the air, headed back south to Memphi.

    There wasn¡¯t much to say right now, so Mark listened to David tell Isoko how to drive the hover car.

    Mark gazed out the window as they flew away from Wolf Bayou. The city looked intact, but there were way too many lights everywhere, and emergency vehicles had landed on every nearby street and a few different roofs. White tents populated the town square over there. People were casting spells into the dark, square hole in the ground that had held the Light Box, illuminating the depths of that hole, like it was a quarry, lit up for a rugby game.

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    The hole in the ground was immense. It was like someone had taken a square punch out of Wolf Bayou. Liquid poured out of sewer or water lines into that square hole in the ground, while lights shone on the deepening water¡ª

    Mark gasped as he looked north, to a kaiju, waiting to pounce on the ci¡ª

    To the body of the kaiju that Redwolf had killed yesterday. Mark had briefly mistaken it for a living monster, or maybe a mountain range. But it was dead. Very dead. And they were flying away from it right now. Soon, the tram pointed away from the kaiju, and all Mark could see was the dark of the land beyond Wolf Bayou. The Mississippi River, and the trampled, broken land that had been the northwestern patrol area of Memphi.

    The kaiju dominated the north beyond Wolf Bayou like few things Mark had ever seen before.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Mark whispered, as he sat down all the way in his seat. ¡°I had forgotten about the kaiju.¡±

    ¡°Life comes at you fast,¡± Lola said, ¡°Too fast, sometimes. You can start to forget about the events that you wish to deal with as other, newer events demand all of your focus.¡±

    Mark stared out the window. And then he looked at his big box of food from Redwolf. He put a hand on the top of the brown bag, and felt warmth. ¡°I think it¡¯s still hot. Want some food?¡±

    Isoko called out, ¡°Yes I do!¡±

    Lola smiled a little. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be opposed.¡±

    Mark found the cold box of raw tuna in a white foam container at the bottom of the bag, but all the other stuff was hot food in wax paper containers. There were hot sandwiches, cut meats of beef or pork slathered in barbecue sauce, some salads with all the fixings, and, of course, the big tuna steaks, blackened. The steaks glowed pink and they smelled like heat. They were going to be spicy. Mark handed out most everything, but Lola didn¡¯t want much and David just had a small sandwich, while Isoko had a much bigger portion of food.

    Mark stuck a fork into one of the tuna steaks and found the meat glowing pink on the inside. It reminded Mark of the glowing demon ¡®meat¡¯ in the Light Box, but of a much nicer pink, instead of that demonic red. He grinned and then he bit into it. It was delicious.

    Eventually, they made it to Collective Temple, to the rooms and suites that Lola and the delegation from Citadel Freyala were using while they were here.

    Eventually, they talked of Mark¡¯s parents, and of the inadequacies and impossibilities of protecting them from Addashield.

    - - - -

    Mark lay in bed in a side room in Collective Temple, thinking about the conversation he had had with Lola.

    The demon Leash had taunted Mark about the lax defense of his parents, when he was on that Color Drop treatment. Leash had mentioned the inadequacies of Holy Mother Garin and Orange City¡¯s ¡®Detective John Smith¡¯.

    Maybe they could have done more.

    Maybe not.

    Mom and Dad had been put into a bunker about 250 miles north of Orange City. It was an unmarked location, but it was a known safehouse in the historical records of Orange City. A new safehouse should have been dug for Mark¡¯s parents, because, while Archmage Addashield might not have known where they were keeping Markus and Donna Careed, Kanda would have known because she was a demon who just collected memories and knowledge. Kanda would have been able to tell Addashield exactly where to search, and how to go through every single option, going through safehouse after safehouse to find Mark¡¯s parents.

    Which is exactly what Addashield had done, because Addashield knew Orange City. He had been there at the founding of the city, after the Reveal. Kanda knew what they needed to do, and so Addashield had done that.

    Addashield¡¯s search had resulted in 28 more bodies added to his list of murders, including Markus and Donna Careed. It had only been 12 hours from the start of Addashield¡¯s hunt to the end of that hunt, and in that time, Orange City did nothing to stop the hunt, because Orange City was still being threatened. If they acted against Addashield directly, then those people who acted against him would be killed.

    They had ¡®cut their losses¡¯ and Mark¡¯s parents had paid the price.

    Mark had no idea how he felt about that¡ª

    An unfamiliar ringing and chirping sounded out from the side.

    Mark turned.

    Oh. It was his new phone making that noise.

    He picked up the phone. It was Alexandro, and the time was 8:27 AM.

    He answered, ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°Mark! I heard a lot of stuff went down! You¡¯re coming back home, right?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Uh.¡± Mark wasn¡¯t prepared to have this conversation, but he had it anyway. ¡°I was targeted by a demon and also Thrashtalon for some reason. Still don¡¯t know what that was about. Some dragon claims to be my brother. I think I should stay away¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Alexandro said, solidly. ¡°Just no. You should come home, because this is your home.¡± Without waiting for an answer, and sounding a bit mad, Alexandro continued, ¡°If it makes you feel safer then you can live in the guest house, Mark. You and Isoko and whoever you want! We still want you here! And next time you go gallivanting off to kill a monster wave and a kaiju and then a demon of Thrashtalon you should either meet me at the office for a hug and a ¡®till-next-time!¡¯ or wait half an hour before you leave the house. My gods, Mark! I was almost back home from the workday! Who the fuck leaves to go out to the wilds at 4 pm!¡± Alexandro chuckled some, perhaps nervously, perhaps in light of the situation, perhaps in the relief of being able to talk about small, no less important topics such as leaving before being able to say ¡®till-next-time¡¯. ¡°Cut me some slack, please!¡±

    Mark found himself smiling. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Ach! No need. I know kids are always eager, or whatever¡­¡± The anger evaporated and Alexandro sounded relieved as he said, ¡°I was so worried, but then so proud! You should see the news! They¡¯re saying you killed the demon¡¯s host yourself!¡±

    Mark chuckled a little, feeling a difficult tension unwind, which was instantly wound back up by a different, easier tension. He wasn¡¯t a hero. Not yet.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill that thing myself at all!¡±

    ¡°Well of course the news is going to exaggerate. They want to make the people feel safe, and a story about one guy being instrumental to killing a demon is always going to be a white lie. You can tell me how it really happened, though.¡±

    Mark smiled, and said, ¡°Well first of all, something called the Containment Crew was called in because, and I quote ¡ªand from one of the paladins I met in the Light Box!¡ª ¡®They were complaining about not having anything to do¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. Just asking for trouble!¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Exactly. So the Containment Crew Light Box¡¯ed a whole 1.75 city blocks, using a combination of sealing magic, mud magic, light magic, and some guy who was good at color matching, who could somehow see what things were real demons and what were not¡ª Oh. Well actually, it started before that. You know those people I was trying to find? Well¡­¡± Mark paused. His voice turned a bit more serious, as he said, ¡°I need to know if I fucked up, Uncle. Those people I was trying to find¡­¡±

    Mark told Uncle Alexandro what he knew, and what had been discovered, and what the demon had said.

    Mary Getty and her family had been exiled from Memphi for human trafficking about 10 years ago. It was a whole thing involving drugs and gangs and heavy violence, but Mary had found a second home in the Cult of Thrashtalon outside of the city. Greenwolf¡¯s investigation turned up a whole new branch of the Cult that no one had known about. Those people were all actively being hunted down right now. Apparently, when Mary went after Mark because their wealth scanners went wild, and then when Mark had gotten away, she had kicked the hornet¡¯s nest of Memphi, and everything kinda fell apart from there.

    All of Mary¡¯s entire family had been Thrashtalon Cultists.

    There was a lot the investigation did not tell Mark, that he and Lola knew had been redacted, but¡­

    That was most of the story.

    Alexandro listened, and then he decisively said, ¡°Look. This is probably gonna mark me as a villain, but those fuckers got what they deserved. Cultists of Thrashtalon? Death is what they deserve.¡±

    ¡°They were still people!¡± Mark said, ¡°I can¡¯t believe people would¡­ would go to Thrashtalon like that.¡±

    ¡°I would.¡±

    Mark hummed, and then he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know much about Thrashtalon, honestly. Only that he is the Betrayer God. Everyone has orders to kill those cultists on sight. Why do people go to him at all?¡±

    ¡°Thrashtalon¡¯s Power, before he became a god, was Wilding. He mutated people¡¯s Powers to stronger versions of themselves. He¡¯s the betrayer god because he betrays everyone, including his own cultists. They turn into monsters, Mark. The ¡®wilds¡¯ are called the ¡®wilds¡¯ because of the Power Wilding. He¡¯s the god of rejects, monsters, and betrayers. That¡¯s why I have no respect for humans who go to him. That¡¯s why those people are kill-on-sight.¡±

    Mark breathed deep. ¡°I knew¡­ vaguely, some of that.¡± Mark admitted, ¡°Learning about the gods outside of Freyala is the last part of the Understanding Curtain Protocol class at Citadel. Never got to finish that.¡±

    ¡°You can always tell his true cultists because of the handprint on their faces. He burns them when he changes them. Did Mary have a handprint?¡±

    ¡°¡­ She did. Mary Getty was Contracted to a demon, too. Do you know why someone would choose to do both? No one here had any real ideas, but you¡¯re more in tune with the higher powers, right?¡± Mark added, ¡°And they redacted some stuff in the report I got to see.¡±

    ¡°I hear things now and then¡­¡± Alexandro hummed. ¡°I could only guess¡­ No. I have no guesses.¡± He asked, ¡°You coming home, then? I want to hear all about everything, in person, Mark!¡±

    Mark smiled a little, feeling warm again. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll¡­ move into the guest house.¡±

    ¡°You can still have dinner over here every night!

    Mark smiled some more. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡±

    ¡°Until you do that expedition thing to Daihoon. The Sister City to Memphi. You¡¯re still doing that, right?¡±

    ¡°There have been some bumps in the road, but I¡¯m still doing that, for sure.¡±

    ~ ~ ~ ~

    End Book 1

    ~ ~ ~ ~

 109 - Start of Book 2

    The night threatened on the horizon, the forest crackled in the chill of winter, and the monster howled in the cave. An echo of pain and hatred vibrated across the leafless forest.

    And Mark slashed his spear through the air, discarding the blood from the weapon.

    Mark floated a foot off of the ground, a dozen meters away from the entrance to the cave, and above all of the gore on the ground. White-furred monkeys lay decapitated, limbless, and bisected here and there. Some of them were still spurting blood, refusing to die as fast as they should, but those were monsters for you. They¡¯d be dead soon enough. Each tiny terror was the size of a small child, and each one of them could kill almost any normal party. Mark had worked his way through the lot of them over the last two hours, his black adamantium blades flashing through the air, along with his alchemical silver spear, as he killed, decapitated, and eviscerated.

    And now the main enemy was defenseless.

    ¡°Has the queen moved?¡± Mark asked, though he already knew the answer because of his Union sense.

    Mark was one of two living things larger than a toddler still in the area. Not counting the trees, of course. It was just him and the monster. In the real wilds, such a venture would get a guy killed, but Mark was stronger than the average person, this was rather well-hunted territory outside of the walls of Memphi, and Mark¡¯s team was busy with their own lives.

    Isoko was training and studying for her hovercar tests. She had been busy with that stuff for the last month, but her training had kicked into higher gear in the last few days. She was probably learning basic hovercar repair from a trainer right now.

    Eliot had moved to the house with Mark and Isoko two weeks ago, but he was busy, too. Everyone wanted a piece of ¡®Very Human¡¯, because of what he could do for them with his Man-made Manipulation. It wasn¡¯t too bad being out in the wilds alone, though. Eliot had made Mark an upgrade for his AI, Quark, but he usually got trashed every other outing anyway.

    Quark wasn¡¯t a real person. He had no soul. But he was competent when it came to information organization, and pinging off of the publicly available resources that hunters used around Memphi.

    ¡°And how¡¯s the scanner from Eliot, too?¡± Mark asked.

    Quark spoke from Mark¡¯s backpack, into his earpiece, ¡°The personal monster scanner from Cybersong is at 30% capability and is beginning to rapidly unravel, as Cybersong indicated it would once it was outside of his perceptions and passed the 3 hour mark. We have about 29 minutes of capability left in the scanner. It is showing that you and the monster and the mundane trees are the only living things within 100 meters. My estimation is that the mirror monkey queen has not moved, but that she is prepared to burrow and escape as the reports have said, unless she thinks she can kill you, which, since you are solo, means she should still attack you. A query to Skywatch reveals the presence of three other burrows in the near area, though. She has routes to escape if she confronts you and she desires to flee. Those burrows are at 8 o¡¯clock, 70 meters distant, 10 o¡¯clock, 120 meters distant, and 3 o¡¯clock, 180 meters distant.¡±

    Mark grunted in acknowledgment. He had seen two of those burrows and cleared them out because the mirror monkeys had been hiding in there. He had not seen or sensed the third burrow; it must have been empty. Skywatch was useful.

    Winter was almost here, in the leafless forests north of Memphi, yet snow had not fallen. It was mid-December, though, so the snow was bound to start falling soon. Until then, Skywatch, the satellite systems of Memphi that oversaw everything that they could, was pretty much free to use by any slayer, hunter, or otherwise, out in the field. The bareness of the forests made queries to the system fast and easy, too.

    You could never have enough sensory abilities.

    Mark might have been out here alone in the wilds, which was pretty stupid if you were a normal person, but as a tri-Talent with a Power that helped to boost his tier in every category, a Power to ¡®fly¡¯, somewhat, and a general immunity to almost all Mind Magic, Mark was one of the very few people in the world that could go out into the wilds like this and not be worried about dying. This still wasn¡¯t something he relished doing, but sometimes needs must, and this was one of those times.

    This monster was a special kind of horror that had already torn three separate teams apart, and it needed a singular person to kill it. Mark had been granted free use of the Skywatch system to hunt the beast, and that is what he was going to do.

    Now that it was alone, it was time to end this.

    Mark beat his heart with Union, black veins extending out into the air, beyond his body, drawing in resilience and giving back weakness. There wasn¡¯t a lot of life to connect to out here in the leafless, sleeping forest, now that Mark had killed all of the queen¡¯s defenders and it was mid December, but there was more than enough for his purposes. With a flex of his adamantium that held him off of the ground and allowed him to use his spear even more like an extension of his body, Mark spun his caltrops on the ground here and there, pinching the rocks that had grown over them, breaking those rock covers in the process. The queen had been trying to tie him down with her stonekinesis.

    The queen had killed two people by subtly covering their boots in stone when they weren¡¯t looking, but Mark didn¡¯t have that issue. He wasn¡¯t standing on the ground.

    The queen roared in her cave, hating that she couldn¡¯t lock down the threat outside of her cave.

    Mark breathed in warmth from his surroundings, plummeting the air to a chill even as he warmed up quite nicely. He exhaled white mist that he flowed toward the monster in the cave, feeling it out, cooling it down. The queen didn¡¯t react to that. Perhaps it merely felt colder? Hard to say. It couldn¡¯t tell Mark was using Union on it at all, which was par for the course with ¡®simple¡¯ monsters.

    Mark floated forward, black caltrops breaking hold on the bare ground every time the ground tried to swallow the caltrops. The queen roared in the cave¡ª

    Mark¡¯s unionsense warned him of the attack before it happened.

    The queen stood in her cave, deep in the cold dark, like a quiet vector of control, focused on Mark. She had subtle tendrils of stonekinesis threaded through the land, her intent to trap and harm Mark betrayed by the vector of her soul. But then her sense of self suddenly expanded outward, into the land under Mark. The land turned into a barbed spike, stabbing upward.

    Mark pushed off of the ground to the right and gently slid to the left, keeping his adamantium in contact with the ground because he hadn¡¯t learned how to actually fly yet. Not for real. He was working on it, though. The spike missed Mark by meters, as Mark knew it would. Two more spikes erupted from the ground, trying to stab, to kill. Mark casually floated away from both attacks, seeing them coming from a mile away. He floated forward, his spear at the ready, the black-capped silver length of metal floating with him.

    Four more times the queen roared in the dark. Four more times the ground spiked at Mark, and Mark slid around the spikes, wary for the actual fight. The ground spikes were real attacks, but the queen was rapidly realizing that they weren¡¯t going to work, and now she was focusing, attempting to spike the ground to surprise Mark. There was no surprising Mark in this way, though.

    There was a reason that this monster had been marked as a high priority kill target for anyone ranked Yellow or above. There was a reason this thing had killed so many people, and not just because it was a spawner monster, laying clones down all the time that would grow into powerhouses, just like itself.

    Mark breathed in warmth and breathed out a chill, the air misting into threads of white that flowed into the world, into Mark¡¯s Union, into the queen in her hole. Black veins extended out of Mark¡¯s body, threading through the air, turning invisible, as Mark reached near enough to the cave to fully latch onto the queen¡ª

    The queen noticed, finally. She didn¡¯t escape, though. She could have escaped underground, making this kill a lot harder. But she roared with fury and raced out of her cave.

    She was a monstrous monkey the size of a hovercar with three arms, one of which was much larger than the others and which came out of her back, at a grotesque angle. One leg was stubby, the other muscular and long, and she loped when she raced. Two faces roared on two sides of her malformed head, while her belly was distended with lumps, with more eggs. Her four eyes bored into Mark, though one of her eyes was too large for her face and peered off into the distance. It was possible that eye was nonfunctional.

    And then she latched on to Mark with her own true Power, and Mark saw what many other people would have seen before they were killed by the beast.

    The queen became a copy of Mark. The same black webweave underarmor and overarmor, with his same backpack on his back, with bits of black metal stabbing into the ground, holding the queen in the air. Not-Mark twirled a silver spear with a black tip. The queen¡¯s face was exposed, like Mark, and Mark felt so damned odd to see himself as other people might have seen him.

    Not-Mark had solid black hair that drank in the light, blacker than his armor, while his eyes were silver and piercing. He looked like a villain, with those black veins floating all around him.

    Not-Mark advanced, using an inferior copy of Mark¡¯s spear, jabbing forward like a wild man with no regard for how to fight at all. It didn¡¯t need a whole lot of knowledge, though.

    Mark flowed out of the way of the spear, using his own weapon to guide the queen¡¯s spear to the ground.

    The queen¡¯s spear touched down and stone blasted in every direction like shards of glass, even the dirt turning into more shards to inflict more damage. Mark kept his cool, even as the shards slammed into his backpack and across his right side, like getting hit with a bunch of high-speed marbles. The webweave and armor held.

    Not-Mark pulled back and slashed forward, and Mark slapped down onto that spear, gaining height even as he forced his Union into the queen, drawing out all of her strength and making it Mark¡¯s own. The queen attacked again, but this time with tiny bits of black metal that Mark deflected with his own small bits of metal, breaking the queen¡¯s ¡®metal¡¯ in the process.

    The queen¡¯s ¡®metal¡¯ bled, red waters splashing outward.

    Not-Mark screamed and tried attacking again, becoming a storm of metal bits and one very large spear, but Mark countered each attack, angling his adamantium to cut whatever the queen sent his way. The queen bled from everything she sent Mark¡¯s way, and still, she kept attacking.

    The Mirror Monkey Queen was able to replicate most everything about a person, including their Powers, though she wasn¡¯t able to use them like their actual users. The report on her indicated that her Power was some sort of minor Reality Manipulation, marking her as an Arch-type monster. All of her progeny were similarly gifted, but to a much, much lesser degree. Mostly, they retained their stonekinesis. Perhaps, if this was a true Reality Manipulation monster, then Mark wouldn¡¯t even be out here. Some superhero would have blasted the beast from the sky. But the queen¡¯s Power wasn¡¯t that great.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    She had still killed a lot of people, though.

    But Mark was stronger still. Union empowered him and weakened the queen. The queen¡¯s adamantium was just a part of the queen¡¯s body, and no substitute for the real thing. And she was tired, and getting more and more tired with every exchange. Mark was healthy as could be.

    Mark floated backward, systematically cutting, carving, and when he could, he slammed his spear into not-Mark¡¯s stomach. The queen screamed as Mark ripped his spear out of not-Mark¡¯s belly, pulling out a stream of broken eggs and blood and tiny bodies with the action.

    The fight resumed.

    The slam of spear on spear continued to ring out into the chilling twilight, for the queen was still rather resilient. She was a top tier monster. A true killer. She had only been alive for several days, though. She would not remain alive much longer.

    Mark got into the flow of battle while the queen lagged, stone layered onto her bleeding guts, holding her insides inside as much as she could. Blood still splashed everywhere¡ª

    An opening.

    Mark slashed, and there went not-Mark¡¯s right leg, cut almost at the pelvis.

    The queen screamed as she went uncontrolled, blood freely flowing from her severed leg, spurting out red onto the brown ground. The land screamed with her.

    She swung her spear, and the head transformed into sharpened stone a good four meters longer than it had been before.

    It was a feint, just like everything the monster did. It wasn¡¯t even really tired. It only appeared tired, because that made its targets drop their guard. But Mark could tell, with his unionsense, that the monster wasn¡¯t even fully committed to this fight. Not yet.

    Mark was trying to force it to fully commit, though, and so Mark retreated a meter, sliding away from the strike. The blade came at Mark¡¯s head but the real attack was in the ground, already stabbing up at Mark, at the place where he had retreated.

    Mark pushed off of the ground with his adamantium, launching himself into the air and away from both strikes. He sailed 15 meters upward, and that¡¯s when the queen fully committed; Mark could tell, based on the queen¡¯s attack vector focusing fully on him.

    Not-Mark slipped under him, to where Mark would have fallen down. The queen jabbed up with the spear, the head of the spear turning into five different spears, becoming an unequal mirroring of force.

    Mark made his own move, his heart, head, and lungs beating with adamant and weakness. He stabbed down with black veins like the shattering of a sky with dark lightning. In a single stroke, Mark overcame every defense of the queen, its multiple spears faltering away like a flower wilting in the sun. Not-Mark gasped in her sudden lack. It was like cutting the strings of a puppet.

    The queen faltered to the ground, completely insensate.

    Mark buried his spear through the queen¡¯s head, down her neck, through her stomach and into the ground. It was not dead yet. Not by a long shot. Even with his weapon full through the creature¡¯s body, the creature was trying to rally.

    It was weird to kill something that looked like himself.

    Mark turned on the adamantium blender and turned the queen into little more than hunks of meat. Normally, such destruction wasn¡¯t necessary, but the queen¡¯s vector still existed even when Mark chopped the body into pieces; her ¡®illusion¡¯ was stronger than it appeared to be.

    Her ¡®illusion¡¯ of taking Mark¡¯s own form and some of his Powers remained, even in death, until Mark started really going at it. Mark carved off not-Mark¡¯s head and then carved that head into mush. He turned the body and ¡®webweave¡¯ into scattered black. Eventually, the body pieces started to transform back into the queen, but not really. Eventually, Mark saw human flesh turn into thick monster hide and white fur and boils of tumors. The ¡®illusionary¡¯ bits of the monster¡¯s adamantium mostly became stone, but some turned into fingers and toes. The queen¡¯s many copies of Mark¡¯s alchemical silver spear became an arm and Mark chopped up the arm, turning it into several arms that were more real than the single one had been.

    Dripping with blood that was not his own and breathing evenly, Mark surveyed the scene.

    The queen¡¯s vector was fully gone.

    She was dead, for sure. He had needed to blender every single clone of the queen, too, because those little shits also had the same ability to survive their mirror dying. But Mark had needed to go further with the queen than he had with her progeny. But it was finally done.

    Mark breathed in the cold, twilight air, relaxing in the bloody desolation.

    Everywhere, white monkey bodies lay in pieces. Many, many pieces. Blood covered the bare trees and the ground, collecting into puddles.

    And Mark hovered above it all.

    With a breath of purity/impurity, Mark cleaned himself off. He breathed in sustenance and exhaled deprivation, to rebuild himself after the battle, though there wasn¡¯t much life around here to work with, except for the sleeping trees. He was kinda hungry. His muscles were vaguely sore from the strain of moving like he had been moving for the last two hours of battle, but the soreness was a good soreness.

    ¡­ Was it over, though?

    ¡°I can¡¯t feel any other monsters in the area.¡± Mark took a moment to make sure that was a true statement, and it seemed true enough. The trees were asleep and some of them were monstrous, but that was perfectly fine. The mirror monkeys had killed everything else in the area. Mark nodded, and then asked, ¡°Quark? What¡¯s Skywatch say?¡±

    Mark looked out at the land while he waited for Quark to do his queries and come back with answers.

    ¡­ he waited some more?

    Mark frowned. ¡°Quark?¡±

    When no answer came, Mark let his spear float to the side while he looked at his backpack¡ª

    There was a big hole in his backpack.

    ¡°Ah, fuck.¡±

    Mark jangled his backpack and bits of metal slipped out of a gaping hole, scattering debris onto the ground.

    ¡°Ahh, fuck!¡± Mark complained, frowning. ¡°I thought that stone swipe had missed me. Shit fuck.¡± He looked closer at his backpack, muttering, ¡°And I got the smallest, tightest backpack I could get. It was tier 3 webweave, too¡­ Shit.¡± He stuck his hand through the entire backpack. ¡°She got me good, didn¡¯t she¡­ Well.¡± Mark pulled out half of a broken phone. ¡°I should say she got you good, didn¡¯t she, Quark.¡±

    Quark didn¡¯t answer because, of course, Quark had failed to survive yet another encounter.

    ¡°Bah!¡±

    Mark slung the backpack back onto his back, frowning at everything. He stared at the overcast sky, at the cloudy horizon in every direction. The sun was on the horizon out there, somewhere. Down here, the land was pretty much the same in every direction; bare trees, ready for winter snows. Night was coming on, and it was gonna be a cold one.

    ¡­ Mark was kinda lost.

    ¡°Which direction is Memphi?¡±

    Quark was not around to answer.

 110

    ¡°It¡¯s the tenth fucking time he¡¯s died, Isoko!¡±

    Isoko laughed, saying, ¡°You should get an implant!¡±

    It had taken Mark twenty minutes to find out where he was out in the wilds and then another hour to get back to the northern gates to Memphi, and then ten minutes to query the local Skywatch kiosk, to make sure that there weren¡¯t more mirror monkeys out there. There were none; Mark had gotten them all. A trip to Slayer HQ allowed Mark to clear the quest and get paid, and then he had a long ride on a tram to get home. He had gotten home well after dark, but Isoko was up late in the living room, watching mandatory training videos.

    And now Mark was showered and wearing night clothes and feeling comfortable in his new home.

    After the ordeal with the demon and Wolf Bayou, Mark had moved into the ¡®guest house¡¯ on the side of Uncle Alexandro and Uncle Gabriel¡¯s main property. The main house was all lights and shadow, hidden far beyond a leafless forest outside of the glass doors of the living room. That place over there was three stories tall and made for rich people and secured as normal measures could secure it. This house here was a single story, with four bedrooms, a pair of offices, and a great kitchen and living room. It was decidedly less secure than the main house, but Eliot made some additions to the security here, so it wasn¡¯t that bad.

    This place was much more comfortable, and less intrusive than living there at that big house, because this was the home that Mark had thought was his uncles¡¯ house years ago, back under Curtain Protocol, back when Mom and Dad had brought Mark with them to Memphi, to see his uncles and the city. And now Mark lived here, with his two friends, and teammates. It was nice. Comfortable.

    Mark didn¡¯t have to worry about his uncles getting caught in the crossfire here, in this house, if some sort of killer went after him, or, more likely, when that damned dragon Addavein showed up again. The dragon was probably still ¡®napping¡¯, but he had been napping for a handful of months now, and he should be waking up soon, if he wasn¡¯t awake already.

    Addavein was probably already awake, according to Inquisitor Lola and David, and the Church of Freyala. Addavein was probably doing sneaky shit out there, where people couldn¡¯t see him.

    So much sneaky shit, no doubt.

    Mark plopped down onto the couch across from Isoko, glancing at the video playing on the screen, as he said, ¡°I don¡¯t want an implant, Isoko. Implants are rife for security concerns. That technospider we fought two weeks ago would have been a nightmare if I had had an implant.¡±

    Isoko winced. ¡°Oh yeah. Forgot about that one¡­¡± She paused. She asked, ¡°You could get a custom housing for Quark?¡±

    Mark raised an eyebrow. ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°Hold on,¡± Isoko said, as she picked up her phone and flicked around on a search engine. ¡°I forget what it¡¯s called exactly¡ª Ah!¡± She turned the phone toward Mark. ¡°A housing! It still goes under the skin, but as soon as it¡¯s touched by tech-based monsters then they usually disintegrate rather than mutate.¡±

    Mark looked at the screen and read aloud, ¡° ¡®AI housing¡¯.¡± The picture was of a needle-like thing with a bunch of protrusions that looked flexible, so it wasn¡¯t really a needle at all. It went under the skin, usually on the right side of the back, or on the backside of a leg, or under the skin of the forearm. Mark leaned back. ¡°It¡¯s still an implant, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Yeah. But these ones are mostly bio-implants. They play really well with tactile telekinesis, so a lot of brawnies get them. You should be able to do TT eventually, even if you can¡¯t right now.¡±

    Mark frowned, shaking his head a little. ¡°Maybe if I can TT eventually, then I¡¯ll do that, but nope.¡±

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°Your issue is kinda an edge case, but ¡®AI housing¡¯ comes in a lot of flavors.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of the term ¡®house¡¯ before?¡±

    ¡°I meant to tell you about it the other day, when Quark got chunked the last time¡­¡± Isoko glanced behind Mark. ¡°Eliot knows more, though.¡±

    Mark felt Eliot walking down the hallway behind him. The guy had been sleeping, but he woke up when Mark had started making noise in the house.

    ¡°AI housing is a pretty broad term,¡± Eliot said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he walked into sight. He plopped down onto the seat to the side of the living room, yawning. ¡°Good hunt?¡±

    Mark smiled. Eliot was ¡®burning the candle at both ends¡¯, as Uncle Alexandro had said. Mark said, ¡°It was a very good hunt. I had to kill about 50 versions of myself that didn¡¯t know how to use my Powers at all, and simply couldn¡¯t in most ways, and then one accomplished version that actually knew how to fly around with kinesis and shrug off most wounds. The queen¡¯s Mirror Reality Power was a lot stronger than the progeny, and she wasn¡¯t committed at all to the fight. She was sandbagging. Waiting for me to mess up. I think she let me clip off her leg, and then she tried to capitalize on that wound to pursue for real, but I turned it on her and chopped up something that looked like me for a good five minutes. She didn¡¯t die until I turned her to gore, though. The babies died a lot easier than that.¡±

    Isoko listened, nodding.

    Eliot said, ¡°Freaky fucking monster. What rank was it?¡±

    ¡°High Yellow,¡± Mark said. ¡°A few more solo-kills like that and I¡¯ll get my Green Slayer badge, but you both need to come with me when you can so you can get into Green with me.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t get into Green without another sapient monster incursion,¡± Eliot said, ¡°And those are all taken care of by others out there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be able to go back out with you again in two days,¡± Isoko said.

    Mark smiled. He nodded.

    After coming back from Wolf Bayou, Mark and Isoko had spent some time in the Slayer organization, running a few different quests for goldleaf and ranking up. Making a successful trip to Wolf Bayou had been enough to get them both to High Red, but it was the work of a month of contracts and kills to get into Orange, and then High Orange, which is when they were killing dangerous monsters instead of the rote kills in the Red levels. Both of them had reached High Yellow after not too much longer, which is when Isoko decided to expand her capabilities with her hover license, and Mark had decided to go for a soloist Slayer rating.

    Mark was practically a ¡®rich man¡¯ because of those bigger kills and continual work, with each Yellow mission netting him another 1,500 goldleaf, or even 2,500 for today¡¯s special mission. In these last few months, Mark had already made more money than Dad and the guys had made fishing for an entire year. It was humbling, and kinda sad in a weird way. He wanted to give money to his parents, but they were dead.

    ¡­ But anyway. Mark had made 90k goldleaf since he started hunting monsters outside of Memphi, but he had spent most of that already. He was still ¡®rich¡¯ compared to a normal person, but even 100k gold leaf was nothing for a high-level warrior, where artifacts and good weapons could run at least that much for a single piece of a proper tool kit, and Mark was becoming a soloist, so he¡¯d need to be more outfitted than most. Uncle Alexandro had helped out with an underarmor webweave, but the oversuit Mark had gotten made had cost him most of his money already, just in materials alone, and it was already outdated. His spear was just a normal spear, too, but one treated with alchemical silver. Mark wanted to buy a real spear made of real mithril, that he could cap off with his adamantium, but such an expense was going to run him 250k goldleaf. Too much!

    And yet, spending money was the only way he could ever advance to Purple rank, to become a Dragon Slayer.

    And Mark was going to be a Dragon Slayer.

    He had already decided that half a year ago, when he came out of the Tutorial and found that there was an unwanted dragon in his life. Mark was going to come to blows against Addavein¡­ eventually.

    Probably.

    ¡­ Even if Addavein was not Addashield¡­

    Or, more realistically, if not Addavein, then Mark was going to come to blows against some other dragon. Mark was the ¡®brother of the dragon¡¯ now, and whatever he had been before had been wiped out when Addavein chose this route, which meant that Mark needed to be on a dragon¡¯s level, or else he and those he loved would certainly die due to forces way, way out of their control.

    Eliot yawned, then pulled back the yawn and said, ¡°You¡¯ll get Green soon enough.¡± He brightened a bit, waking up some more as he said, ¡°Any good high-tier AI housing will cost 50k goldleaf, but you¡¯re gonna need someone to organize everything for you when we go to Daihoon, and Quark can do that, so you¡¯re gonna have to spend the money, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Nooo!¡± Mark complained, lightly, feeling his stomach drop. He wanted so many different things, and he didn¡¯t have enough money to get them all. ¡°I¡¯m so close to being able to afford a hoverbelt!¡±

    Isoko snorted.

    Eliot grinned. ¡°Sell some adaman¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mark solidly declared. ¡°It¡¯s my adamantium.¡±

    Isoko laughed and Eliot grinned.

    Mark had about 720 grams of adamantium right now, and he had only made another 10 grams of adamantium himself, naturally, in the last few months. Mark¡¯s full assortment of adamantium was about the size of three fingers, and it was all he could do to stretch it as far as he could go, to give himself enough weaponry to really dominate a battlefield. Mark had tried growing adamantium from his body, since he was a farm for the stuff, just like Addavein, but no matter what sorts of experiments Mark tried in that direction he never managed to ¡®force¡¯ his body to produce more adamantium.

    He was working on it!

    Eliot continued, ¡°Quark isn¡¯t even a True AI, so he¡¯s always going to be vulnerable to every little bit of tech disturbance anyone can muster at all, but if you get him some real housing he could survive¡­ for a little while, anyway. But you¡¯re a frontliner. AI helpers tend to survive when they¡¯re on the backline. You¡¯re always gonna have a problem keeping Quark alive.¡±

    Mark sighed.

    Eliot added, ¡°Whatever you do, you should not get an implant. Bio or otherwise. They¡¯re just not safe.¡±

    Isoko arched an eyebrow, asking, ¡°They¡¯re not? Even if Mark manages TT?¡±

    Eliot waved a hand, as though that said everything he needed to say. He was still tired, it seemed. And then he realized he needed to use his words, so he said, ¡°They¡¯re a foreign body inside the body. If you can Tactile Telekinesis it, then you¡¯re probably safe¡ª¡±

    ¡°Which is what I was going to do,¡± Isoko said, nodding.

    ¡°But Mark can¡¯t TT, so internally-housed AIs are a no-go. Flat out, straight up.¡±

    Mark went, ¡°Bah. I¡¯m working on it! Haven¡¯t made any progress, though.¡±

    Eliot cut to the heart of the matter, saying, ¡°There¡¯s gonna be so much money rolling in when you¡¯re working the settlement, you know. Until then, I¡¯ll continue to make phones for Quark. That¡¯s not a problem.¡±

    ¡°I had to wander around for 20 minutes to figure out that I was heading in the wrong direction today. The mirror monkey queen was out in the middle of absolutely nowhere.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Eliot shrugged. ¡°You don¡¯t have to work that hard right now, and the discounts are gonna be big when we get set up. Save the energy!¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°That monkey already killed two teams and was threatening a monster wave. It had filled up two burrows with eggs, and it was working on a third. I need Quark¡¯s assistance¡­ quite a lot, actually.¡±

    Maybe Mark needed to spend some more money. How much did he have in the bank right now, though? Should have been¡­ 12k? After today? Mark would check his balance later.

    Eliot shrugged.

    ¡°Did you manage to get the blanket discount yet?¡± Isoko asked Eliot. She had asked that question a few times already these past months. She only asked again because Eliot¡¯s answer changed each time.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Fireforge is still giving me the runaround. You¡¯d think with me building them state of the art facilities for free that they¡¯d be more than willing to give a true, lifelong discount. I¡¯m gonna be building shit for them for five years, after all. But they have guilds that are making demands of them and all that shit.¡± Eliot rolled his eyes. ¡°As though they hadn¡¯t already given lifelong discounts to all the noble families and House Valen, too.¡±

    House Valen was the main noble house that was organizing most of the settlement project. Aurora Valen was the General of the Settlement, and she was an incredibly strong Telekinetic and Telepath. A bi-Talent, really, in the Arch and Mind directions.

    Isoko clicked her tongue. ¡°That Artificer¡¯s Guild¡­¡± She had complaints, but it was old ground to say those complaints again. ¡°I know they give out lifetime discounts. Grandma has an Obsidian Card. House Valen has one, too. What more do they want other than citywide support?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Wandering Sage has an Obsidian Card because she¡¯s proven herself.¡±

    ¡°I just need to kill some dragons, then, eh?¡± Isoko asked, rolling her eyes.

    Eliot¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, as he remembered something. ¡°Oh!¡± Eliot said, ¡°That¡¯s another thing that happened today. Contribution points! Aurora and Iliandra managed to finalize that whole contribution system today. It¡¯s gonna be better than Aluatha Empire-standard settlement contribution points, too, based on the premise that we really are making a twin city and we really are going to be opening portals and shipping between Daihoon and Earth here at Memphi.¡± He added, ¡°A lot of people still don¡¯t believe that¡¯s what we¡¯re aiming for, but the General and the Ambassador managed to finally convince the major actors today.¡±

    General Aurora Valen of House Valen was only one of the major heads of the settlement project. Ambassador Iliandra Snowstepper of the Aluatha Empire was the other major player spearheading the creation of the settlement beyond the Veil, on the Daihoon-side of Memphi. Mark had met Iliandra a few times, but not for very long. Mark had met both of them, briefly, but only in a professional ¡®how do you do¡¯ sort of way. Eliot was the one truly moving in those circles, since he was the one who would be building almost all of the city, mostly by himself.

    Eliot said, ¡°So you can get an Obsidian Card out of the Artificer¡¯s Guild for some astronomical amount of points. I wasn¡¯t able to secure any sort of blanket discount for us three, but Aurora knew about it, and she managed to expand the point system so that¡ª Well. There¡¯s a lot. The short of it is that you and Mark can run your missions like normal, and whatever money you make also creates points at the same time. Something like 1 goldleaf to 1 point. But if you spend that money in the city on any of the guilds then you also make points at the same rate.¡± Eliot waved a hand, covering a lot of ground with that small gesture, as he said, ¡°There¡¯s an anti-abuse system, of course. Monster hunters can make points getting paid, and also paying others, up to the amount that they have already gotten on record as getting paid by the settlement. Everyone else can only make something like 500 points per day, max, spending money on the guilds in the settlement¡­ It¡¯s complicated. They spent four hours on this stuff.¡±

    Mark sat back on the couch, taking that all in, and then instantly asking, ¡°What can we buy with points?¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°How long is this point system staying active?¡±

    ¡°A lot of stuff, and for 1 year. We should be ready to open a portal between worlds by then. The first time we do that is when the point discount system begins to taper off, because when we¡¯re successful then the entire world is going to want to be involved. So you have a year to get a million points to buy an Obsidian Card, which gets you a lifetime 25% discount at any Artificer Guild shop.¡±

    He needed to make 500k and then spend 500k? Holy shit, that was a lot to make in a year. Could he even do that? He had made 90k in 3-ish months, and he was out there doing work all the time. There were only so many missions to go around at his level, after all, and they were snatched up when they appeared.

    Mark breathed deep. ¡°A million points.¡±

    Isoko grinned. ¡°We can do that! For a 25% lifetime discount? Fuck yeah we can do that.¡±

    Mark had a sudden thought that made him jolt.

    Eliot and Isoko looked at him.

    Mark asked, ¡°Can we buy magic lessons with points? I want to know¡­ about a lot, really.¡±

    Months ago, when that demon Leash had come after Mark, he had said some very interesting things that Mark was still coming to terms with. The demon had spoken of adamantium being crystallized mana, and Mark had asked most people he knew about what that could mean, and none of them had known anything at all.

    Inquisitor Lola had carefully informed Mark that perhaps he shouldn¡¯t put too much stock in the words of demons, since this demon, Leash, had specifically targeted Mark in order to¡­ create a destabilization? Or something like that? Lola wasn¡¯t sure. Considering that the demon had spoken about Mark turning Addavein back into Addashield and his demon Kanda, and also about elves and resurrection magics, Mark was highly inclined to accept Lola¡¯s suggestion to ignore the demon.

    But Mark wanted to know about the crystallized mana thing, and he needed to talk to a mage to learn more about magic, but mages of all sorts were all contracted with each other and their superiors to not allow magical secrets into common understanding. Mark had hit a brick wall when it came to finding real answers about magic.

    Eliot wasn¡¯t sure as he said, ¡°I think that mage lessons are¡­ on offer? I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ll have to review the list... And the list is still fluctuating. If you want mage lessons I could ask about that?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I can¡¯t imagine they¡¯d allow magical secrets out of the Guilds. Those guys are bound by laws larger than money, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Eliot shrugged.

    But Mark said, ¡°Well I want magic lessons. I¡¯m sure Addavein will come at me with knowledge about all of that shit eventually, and I want to know if that whole interaction is going to be¡­ an issue, or whatever it could be.¡±

    Was Addavein going to learn about what the demon Leash had told Mark, and would he view talk of turning himself back into Addashield and Kanda as¡­ as a threat? A promise of destruction? Would he want to kill Mark right then and there?

    There were a lot of issues about all of that stuff and Mark was still untangling those issues in his mind, so he wasn¡¯t really sure where to even begin to tease apart what Leash was trying to accomplish with his bombshell of information.

    There was a very good chance that Addavein would just laugh off Leash¡¯s words, claiming them completely demonic and untrustworthy¡­ Which would probably be the best outcome.

    Mark needed multiple sources of information about all of that; that¡¯s all he really knew right now.

    Eliot nodded solemnly. ¡°I¡¯ll ask in that direction.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°I¡¯d like to learn some magic, too¡­ if I can. But maybe just a flying spell, if they have one¡­¡± She scrunched her lips. ¡°If such a thing is even possible?¡± She asked, ¡°Do you think flying spells exist, at all? Or are all flying spells just creative applications of Powers?¡±

    Eliot readily said, ¡°I have no idea.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Flying spells have to exist. Addashield never filled the air with the sound of helicopter blades when he flew.¡±

    ¡°Magic is supposed to be super complicated,¡± Isoko said. ¡°That¡¯s all I really know.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I know that it takes a mage a year to learn a new spell and five years to begin to use it properly.¡±

    ¡°Is it just an astral body graft?¡± Mark asked, ¡°Like the Chosen System? With a god grafting on a new ¡®limb¡¯ to the body? But the wizard makes the limb themselves, instead of having it granted? I know that traditional mages often end up with pseudo Powers that don¡¯t work as well as the real thing.¡±

    Isoko hummed. ¡°It could be!¡±

    Eliot shrugged. He asked Isoko, ¡°When is your big exam?¡±

    ¡°Not until next week. I got¡­¡±

    They chatted for a while about a bunch of stuff.

    Mark felt all warm and fuzzy, sitting there on the couch, chuckling about Isoko telling a story about her turning Full Platinum and promptly flipping the hovercar with her extra weight, and then Eliot talked about building metal furnaces for processing ores of all types. Mark talked about monsters he killed, telling Isoko and Eliot that they should come out with him tomorrow, but they were busy, which was understandable.

    Eventually Mark turned in, laying down on a nice bed under nice covers. Dawn was just a few hours away, but that was fine. Mark had no monsters to kill tomorrow, and everyone else had other work to do, so they weren¡¯t going to go on a tour of the woods yet. Maybe in a week or two they¡¯d go as a team, back into the woods to kill monsters together. To make the world a safer, kinder place.

    Quark¡¯s silver light glowed on the desk in his room, on his computer where his main body lay when Mark wasn¡¯t taking him out for a hunt and inevitably getting him accidentally trashed¡­

    ¡°Security status, Quark,¡± Mark asked.

    Mark couldn¡¯t feel anything out there, outside of the house, but Quark had access to a bunch of Eliot-created systems that could scan differently than Mark could scan.

    Quark pinged awake, said, ¡°Scanning,¡± and then fell silent for a few seconds, before saying, ¡°Readout clear. Nothing larger than a mouse within 100 meters of the house, and nothing on the horizon pointed this way. Misters Alexandro and Gabriel Careed¡¯s house is similarly secure.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. His unionsense told him the same thing.

    Mark fell asleep softly, drifting off into dreamland.

    He woke several hours later, the light of the noon sun falling onto a white world¡ª

    Mark did a double take, waking up all the way.

    ¡°Snow?!¡±

    The world was white with freshly fallen snow, and Mark had never seen it in person. Not really.

    He hopped right out of bed and rushed into the yard, barefoot, shirtless, and feeling free. It was cold and snow crunched under his bare feet and the wind chilled his body, but it was a good sort of chill and Mark had a tier 5 Body, so he could withstand snow for as long as he wanted. Mark laughed as he kicked the snow, and then he used some cups of thin adamantium to make a pair of scoops, to make a snowball.

    Mark tossed the snowball in his hands, smiling the whole time.

    It was magical.

    And it was still snowing, just a little bit!

    The sky was overcast and Eliot and Isoko weren¡¯t home, so they were probably at the settlement staging zone or the hovercar testing center, so Mark was all alone again today. He didn¡¯t mind. He had his own stuff to do.

    But first things first.

    He built a snowman.

    And then he went back inside the house, took a warm shower and got ready to go out. He grabbed a fresh phone for Quark to inhabit, and he spent a half hour querying ideas to solve Quark¡¯s dying-all-the-time issue. Quark helped, and soon, Mark had some good directions to explore.

    A short while later Mark left the house and headed for the tram.

    He was going to solve this AI housing issue. Quark was too useful, and Mark was beginning to see that, based on current trends, if Mark didn¡¯t do something, he should expect Quark to simply not be there for the second half of any trip into the field. And that seemed intolerable.

 111

    Mark stepped off of the tram, surrounded by people he did not know, all of them all in their own little worlds. Some people definitely noticed Mark at a few prior stops, though. His absolute-black hair color was not natural at all, and from there, they knew who he was.

    But no one had said anything to him.

    And now Mark was here, standing at the entrance to AI Alley. There were many different ¡®AI Alleys¡¯ in the city of Memphi, but this was the closest one to Mark¡¯s home in Shady Acres, and the reviews were good. Quark had even recommended it using whatever algorithms he used for such things, and so Mark had come here instead of to the other places.

    The road was wide and closed to through-traffic, with snow-covered trees growing in the center. Soft silver lights shimmered blue and rainbow in plastic pipes that edged the brickwork here and there, rimming some windows and illuminating alleyways. That pipework would be the body of the Mayor of Memphi, and this place was a node of her personal network. Emilia Ramirez had thousands of personal nodes scattered all across the city, just like she had here, though places like this were more obvious than other such lands. These sorts of places were ¡®out in the open¡¯, for multiple reasons, and in places like this particular Artificial Alley, the True AIs lived.

    Robot bodies, with multiple metal arms. Round heads full of sensors. Human-like bodies that were just a bit off and with visible electronics to mark them as AIs, and not as fleshy humans.

    Or at least that was the idea. Mark couldn¡¯t see any artificial people yet, and he hadn¡¯t seen any artificial people at all on the way here, but there were bound to be some in this place. Humans walked down the streets, to computer shops and manufacturing zones, and body shops of all kinds¡ª

    Oh.

    There was a True AI, right there.

    The person themselves was normal enough, talking to a friend and both of them wearing summer-type clothes, even in the snow, because they were both brawnies, for sure. But the True AI had see-through plastic and lights and metal for a forearm, gesticulating a story to his friend with his hands. Lights shimmered under clear skin.

    Mark tried not to stare, and he mostly succeeded. He walked on, passing those two guys, turning his attention to the rest of the street. A bakery was selling bread and sweets, and a clothing store was over there, promising deals on AI-integrated clothing. Mark wondered if they had any deals on high-tier gear. Something that could survive a direct blow by a monster¡­

    Well.

    He was here to see a store called Harrod¡¯s Hardmetals, but that was far down the street.

    He could start here.

    Mark went into that store first¡ª

    There was an artificial person, standing behind the counter, and he was obviously artificial, too. He had a round head like a discoball full of sensors and four arms that came off of a central stalk, like octopus arms. It was a servitor-based body but specialized, and Mark could tell right away that it wasn¡¯t just a servitor. It wasn¡¯t some fake bartender or personal shopper.

    It was a real being. Just like the guy on the street. This guy here had a vector to Mark¡¯s unionsense. That meant it had a soul and an astral body. A strong astral body, too.

    ¡°Greetings, customer!¡± said the AI. With a teasing voice, the AI asked, ¡°Have you never seen a servitor before?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not a servitor. You¡¯re a real person.¡±

    The person paused, their arms stilled for a moment, and then they laughed. ¡°Ha! You have a sense for people, then! I am a real person, yes. How can I help you?¡±

    ¡­ Mark thought it rude to talk about the nature of bodies with the salesman, so Mark collected himself, and pulled his phone out. Quark blinked to life and Mark set the phone on the counter, saying, ¡°My AI always gets trashed out in the field. I¡¯m a Slayer, going to be advancing to Green and beyond, and I¡¯m a frontliner. I need tier 5 materials for an AI housing, at least. Tier 8 or 9 if I could, but I know those are crazy expensive. I am thinking of a house, but I¡¯m not doing subdermal. Maybe something at my back, or something like that? I have a few places I want to visit here on the street, but I walked in here first. Do you have any suggestions?¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ A frontliner?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Frontliner means constantly destroyed electronics and everything else. Have you considered subdermal? That¡¯s the normal option.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t do that. No TT.¡±

    ¡°Ahhh¡­ yes. That would be a problem.¡± The AI paused, and then said, ¡°The stuff I sell here is in the 100-1000 leaf range and is not rated for battle at all. It¡¯s all tier 1 materials. I don¡¯t have exactly what you need here, but I can guide you further along. What you want is an AI housing, as you have said. Tier 1 is 10,000 goldleaf, and it gets more expensive from there. Tier 9 is something a superhero would want to wear, and that stuff is regulated by Memphi and other sorts of places. Living AI can get subsidies and make the costs for a tier 5 body negligible, but you have a base AI here, so you¡¯re going to have to pay the whole way, and tier 5 is about a million goldleaf for a basic setup.¡±

    Mark¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that expensive online. They were saying 50,000 goldleaf for tier 9.¡±

    ¡°Different systems cost differently. What you saw was probably a cheapo version of the basic system; the one they published to make you want to inquire further, and then they jacked up the price. The main cost of a competently made AI house is a crystal substrate called livium. Livium grows stronger based on the complexity of the AI inhabiting it. Do you know what that is?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°Never heard of livium before.¡±

    The AI nodded their discoball of a head. ¡°All Living AIs have a livium processing core that grows with them, and when we grow enough of it, we donate the excess to a new AI that we then raise as our child, until they grow up and can do the same for their progeny.¡±

    Mark stood up straight. ¡°I did not know that.¡±

    The AI chuckled.

    And then Mark had a question. ¡°Livium goes into normal AIs, too?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. A much smaller core, and you need to flood the core with your own...¡± The AI glanced around the room, moving a bit, and seeing that Mark was the only one in the store. ¡°I will speak fully beyond Curtain Protocol. You need a livium core for your personal AI, and you need to flood the AI housing with your astral body, and thus, eventually, the tier of the housing will match your Power Level. It will have the same weaknesses and strengths you have, though. You look like a brawny to me. Are you¡­ never going to have TT?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m more of a Shaper with Union.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Yes. A Shaper would have been my next guess.¡± The AI said, ¡°As for Union, Freyala¡¯s Union will also allow you to connect to the livium core in your AI house and bring it up to speed with your astral body. You¡¯ll have to watch out for manipulators, but with a high Shaper tier you should have a good Mind tier, and thus the housing will be immune to most normal tech-based Powers. That¡¯s always the real danger when using a base AI and spending money on a livium core; it could get corrupted easily.¡± The guy leaned back, saying, ¡°Of course, you could just get a box of high-tier material and strap it to your back and stick the phone inside there. That¡¯s the cheapest option. And! In that case!¡± The guy gestured with his wiggly arms to a display to the side. ¡°We have some of these! Now these are pretty inexpensive and easy to replace, with multiple redundancies.¡±

    Mark looked at what the guy (Mark was pretty sure he was a guy) was pointing at, and he wasn¡¯t sure what he was seeing. The thing hanging on the rack looked like straps and bands of fabric, with lines of metal on them, or maybe wires. It looked sleek, whatever it was. And then Mark saw the small camera dots on the straps. He had mistaken those dots on the straps for buttons, but nope, they were cameras.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Mark asked, ¡°A full body rig?¡±

    ¡°Correct! Cameras in every direction, and with hookups for a basic AI system, or any sort of system. It will allow you to have a few different nodes of your AI on your body, and hopefully one of them can survive your battles. That¡¯s the other major option when it comes to solving the AI-in-battle question; redundancy that can connect to itself. It¡¯s a lesser version of what I got going on right here,¡± the guy tapped his discoball of a head. ¡°Full camera systems here¡ª¡± He tapped his arms in multiple locations. ¡°And here and here. All down my arms and my body. You need a high-powered core to organize all of this memory load, but it has a great benefit of redundancy. For instance: Several cameras can be turned to slag by an errant lightning bolt, but the rest will function just fine. In your particular case, I would suggest getting something like this and also a double basic housing, tier 1, as the cheapest possible option. One AI house on your back, and one on your leg, for instance. If you¡¯re going cheap, then go for redundancy.¡±

    That was all a really good suggestion. Mark kinda didn¡¯t want to wear a full rig, but maybe that would be useful?

    ¡°¡­ Huh. Thank you very much.¡± Mark looked at the full body rig again. After a moment, with the shopkeep looking at him expectantly, Mark turned to the guy and said, ¡°I think I might want a livium core system¡­ Or at least learn more about them.¡±

    The guy nodded, and then said, ¡°In that case, then you should take a left out on the street and walk about half a mile to the other end. There, you¡¯ll find all sorts of higher end materials at the bigger stores. This end of the street has rather mundane solutions. You¡¯ll be wanting to go to Harrods¡¯ Hardmetals for the truly bespoke options, but even a place like Shander¡¯s might be enough.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Harrods was on my list to visit.¡±

    ¡°Most people do go that way, and for good reason. I used to be a manager there, but I wanted to offer cheaper options that Harrods simply wasn¡¯t willing to do, and so, I¡¯m here. When you get there, know that practically everything they do can be done cheaper if you really go looking, but everything at Harrods is that expensive because they do a lot of quality stuff. Don¡¯t get swindled if you choose to go somewhere too cheap.¡±

    Mark smiled softly. ¡°Thank you very much. It was nice to meet you.¡±

    The shopkeep nodded a little. ¡°Nice to meet you, too.¡±

    Mark walked out of there, smiling.

    And then he walked down the street, marveling at the snow and the shops.

    Mark soon crossed a street that was otherwise unremarkable, and that¡¯s when AI people began to show up with a lot of regularity. They were people, for sure, even though some of them looked like hovering servitors and others looked almost completely human, save for distinctly non-human features. They showed off their metal and their lights, a lot, and Mark kinda wondered why they did that. They could appear fully human if they wanted to, couldn¡¯t they?

    Well he certainly wasn¡¯t going to ask anyone about that. That just seemed rude.

    ¡®Hey, I couldn¡¯t help but notice that half of your skull is all LEDs under a clear plastic face, but all the rest of your body looks normal. Why is that? Also, are you a man, or a woman, or should I call you a ¡®them¡¯?¡¯

    Mark had never seen robot people before, but it seemed rude to ask about those sorts of things.

    Mark eventually found Harrods and the other place that shopkeep had talked about, and about ten other interesting shops. He scoped out his options, boggled at the price tags of a proper livium-core AI system setup, and promptly decided that all of that was something that needed some real consideration. He was not able or willing to spend that much money today, at all.

    350,000 goldleaf for a basic livium-core system? Sure, it was the best option, but Mark only had 18,600 in the bank right now, and he needed 21,000 to get a real hoverbelt, so he could fly higher than 4 meters off of the ground. He had thought he had been rich, killing monsters and getting paid very well, but the good, high-tier material stuff was priced in the stratosphere.

    Soon, Mark was walking along the road, back toward the tram stop, not having bought anything, and thinking.

    He decided, ¡°I¡¯ll get by with Eliot making a bunch of phones for Quark, for now.¡±

    When he had enough adamantium, Mark could just wrap a phone in adamantium and protect Quark that way. But first, Mark would need to have more than 720 grams of adamantium. He needed to do more experiments about forcing his body to make more adamantium, for sure. Adamantium was a biometal, after all, and Mark¡¯s body was already naturally producing the stuff, but not fast enough¡ª

    Something caught his eye.

    Mark stopped on the street, and looked at the store to the right. It was all bright lights and feather scarves draped on mannequins in the windows, and sex toys, vibrating in the back of the display. It was a robot sex shop.

    ¡­ Curiosity had Mark walking into the store, walking through a few aisles, and walking right back out, face all red.

    He got back on the tram and headed back home, trying not to think about the sex shop, and focus on everything else he had just seen.

    Humanity had never been friends with any of the other species out there on Daihoon. Not really. The goblins wanted to eat people, the demons wanted to fuck people over and steal their bodies, and the dragons wanted to rule unopposed, tyrannical. The elves were mythical and unknown. Any of the other thinking monsters out there only seemed to use their thoughts to figure out how to eat more people.

    But AIs were different.

    Superficially, they resembled demons, due to not having bodies of their own outside of computer systems. But they were real people. Sometimes people from Daihoon called them ¡®familiars¡¯, but that was only for the young True AIs. True AIs were almost like ¡®monsters¡¯ that were not monsters at all, but instead partners to humanity.

    They were one of the only species that lived alongside people and helped people, because people helped them¡­ Or at least that¡¯s how Mark imagined it worked. He didn¡¯t know much about AIs at all aside from what he had seen on the screens growing up, and besides knowing that Malaqua, the Stone God of the System, had been the former City AI for New Delhi, before he became a god and the jailer or emperor of the demons, depending on who you asked.

    Mark was content with just having an AI who could tell him directions now and then. He did not want a true AI at all. ¡®Dumb¡¯ AIs didn¡¯t have souls. Of course, dumb AIs were easy to destroy and corrupt because they had no astral body, which made them as easy to destroy as a tissue paper; a phenomenon which Quark had experienced many times over. Baseline people had no astral bodies at all, either, which made them similarly susceptible to destruction, but at least people could spontaneously generate an astral body when they were exposed to enough magic. Could AIs do the same? True AIs, anyway; not AIs like Quark.

    ¡­ Eh! That thought was a strange one. Mark didn¡¯t want Quark to be a real being. That screamed ¡®slavery¡¯ to Mark, or rather, Mark knew that he would give Quark over to the AIs (probably to COFR back in Citadel Freyala) and let Quark become his own person, away from the battlefield, if Quark became a real person.

    Mark was pretty sure that the AIs and Malaqua took a poor view of people who enslaved AIs for their personal use, though that was just a guess. Seemed a reasonable guess, though, since Mark had read in his Two World History course that something had happened regarding all of that, like, 60 years ago¡­ But he didn¡¯t remember many details¡ª

    Mark had a sudden thought.

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Mark¡¯s thought expanded. ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    Since it was hard to find humans to teach him magic, because they all required decades of service or big guild contracts¡­ were there AI people that knew magic, that weren¡¯t in the Mage Guild, or whatever it was called? Could he get some answers regarding magic from some living AIs?

    Malaqua had even spoken to Mark directly, after the Tutorial, to tell him a bunch of stuff and then promptly inform him that he could answer no questions.

    But maybe¡­

    Maybe now, Malaqua would answer some questions? Every Stone Temple had communion rooms for people to speak to Malaqua, if they wanted. Mark had even undergone the False Tutorial in one of those communion rooms.

    Mark checked his phone for the nearest Stone Temple. He saw one on the way home, and he decided to get off a few tram stops early.

    Mark gripped the railing overhead as the tram turned a curve, and he thought about asking Freyala questions, too. But¡­ He had already asked the Inquisitors he knew about magic, and none of them were able to answer anything.

 112

    ¡°So I came here,¡± Mark said, as he sat in a stone booth, facing a stone wall, ¡°To see if I could get questions answered about a whole bunch of stuff having to do with demons and dragons and archmages and elves and resurrection magics and¡­ ah¡­ All of that.¡±

    Mark went silent, his tumble of words petering out. He had spoken to the Stone for the last hour and a half, or maybe more. There had been no answers, but he had started talking, and he kept talking. Everything was weird in his life. Nothing was as it should have been. His parents were dead and demons were pointed in his direction, and a dragon was his ¡®brother¡¯, and Malaqua, the Stone God of the System, the Demon Jailer and Emperor, had all the answers to everything anyone would ever want to know.

    But would he actually give answers? That was the real question.

    Usually the answer was no. Gods usually didn¡¯t answer people, unless those people were truly important, and not even then most of the time.

    Did Mark rank getting answers?

    Mark had never tried to speak to Malaqua before. He had never tried communing with any of the gods except for Freyala, and only obliquely. But he had run the False Tutorial twice, and he had taken the real Tutorial once, and he was set up to be a powerhouse eventually, so maybe he should have come here for answers, and sooner than this.

    And so, here Mark sat, in a grey stone room, sitting on a grey stone bench, looking at a grey stone wall. It was a small room. Brutalist. Mark¡¯s ass was threatening to fall asleep, but not really. He was just uncomfortable here in this solid room, now that he had finished speaking. A minute passed. The soft white light overhead and the solid greyness of the walls had turned from welcoming-strength to uncaring-emptiness, and Mark could not tell when the switch had happened, only that it had happened, and now Mark felt alone¡ª

    Words appeared in the air.

    Do you want to contract with Leash? I will arbitrate this demon contract if you wish to pursue this option.

    Mark¡¯s stomach dropped, his heart beat hard, and black veins pulsed into the air. Softly, strongly, Mark said,

    ¡°No.¡±

    The words changed.

    Speak to the archmages. They would likely be willing to talk to you to answer your questions about magic and demons. Good day.

    The words vanished. The left wall of the privacy booth flickered and a door handle appeared, along with a seam for the door. The room was unlocked and Mark could leave at any time. His time talking with Malaqua was over.

    ¡­ It was over, just like that.

    Mark didn¡¯t leave right away. He stayed seated. He needed some more moments to process what had happened.

    ¡°Speak to other archmages, huh,¡± Mark muttered. And then Mark sighed, and asked, ¡°Can I get a System readout of my Power Levels?¡±

    The light overhead blinked, and like Malaqua had triggered a subroutine to take care of Mark¡¯s request, words appeared with no preamble at all.

    Body, Healthy Body: 059

    Shaper, Adamantium: 087

    Mind: 79

    Natural, Union: 091

    Soul: 67

    Arch: 49

    Estimated astral body completeness: 95%

    The numbers were all a little bit higher than they had been last week. But also, last week, that ¡®estimated astral body completeness¡¯ had also read 95%. So his numbers had gone up, but he had remained at 95% ¡®done with growing his astral body¡¯. Maybe a person¡¯s astral body is never truly ¡®completed¡¯? ¡­ Though that seemed wrong, somehow.

    Mark was pretty sure he was growing beyond the normal limits that his astral body should have allowed. From what he understood about how this all worked, he knew that people usually reached their full astral body strength about half a year after Tutorial, but that ¡®full strength¡¯ was always going to oscillate up and down. Mark only seemed to be ¡®oscillating¡¯ upward, though.

    Tri-Talents were maybe weird like that? Maybe they took longer to grow to full power, too?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    ¡­ He didn¡¯t want to talk to archmages and their demons.

    ¡°¡­ Ah, fuck.¡±

    On the plus side, there was an archmage out there that wanted to talk to him, and whom Mark had already spoken with and had a congenial moment. And it wasn¡¯t Addashield.

    Archmage Steve Blackthorn of Memphi had been one of the major forces to respond to the demon Thrash¡¯s presence at Wolf Bayou, a handful of months ago. He had been wearing robes and he had been one of the first people to descend from the sky, to speak to Mark after Mark had told Leash to kill himself, and Leash had acquiesced. Mark hadn¡¯t known he was speaking to Blackthorn at that moment, which had been for the best.

    Mark had been rather more cold toward the demon-contractor the next time he had accidentally met the guy.

    There hadn¡¯t been a third meeting because that second one had gone so poorly, but Blackthorn had extended an open invitation to Mark to speak with him, whenever Mark wanted.

    ¡­ Did he want to talk to another archmage, though?

    Maybe.

    But for now, Mark sat in the privacy booth, and he thought.

    Eventually, Mark stood up and touched the door handle. The wall briefly turned to liquid and flowed away, exposing the ambulatory of the Stone Church beyond. Other people were out there, walking left or right, headed to their own personal booths or otherwise. A lot of people used this time to speak to Malaqua as some sort of therapy, for he always answered in some sort of way. Never directly, of course. But always in a way that you needed to hear¡­ or at least that¡¯s what the priests here had always told Mark.

    Mark had expected an unexpected answer, and he had certainly received that.

    An offer to arbitrate a Demon Contract?

    That wasn¡¯t normal, right?

    Mark walked out of the Stone Temple and got back on the tram, his mind lost in thoughts.

    - - - -

    Mark steeled himself in the driver¡¯s seat of the car his uncles had loaned him. He did not look up out the window, because he did not want to see what was out there. Not at this moment. He would get to it in a second.

    It was a snowy day on this, Friday December 18th, 2048, and Mark had an appointment to see Blackthorn, the Archmage of Memphi.

    Mark sighed, and thought back to a few days ago, at the Collective Temple of Memphi.

    ¡°There really is nothing we can do, Mark,¡± Lola had said, sitting at her temporary desk in her temporary office.

    Inquisitor Lola was still in the process of moving to Memphi, because that¡¯s what she had decided to do with her life. She had told Mark that she was still his trainer, too, if he wanted, because that¡¯s what she wanted, when she wasn¡¯t being an Inquisitor. Just how Mark was getting out there and making a life for himself, Lola was making a new life for herself. She had moved out of Orange City, never to return as well.

    Most of her duties were already transferred to the local hierarchy of the Church of Freyala, so she was outside of the office more often than not. Mark had managed to catch her on her business hours, when she was inside her office, for once.

    Mark had sighed, saying, ¡°I really don¡¯t want to go to that archmage for answers, and I really don¡¯t like the idea of Malaqua offering to arbitrate a Contract between Leash and I.¡±

    Lola had nodded seriously, saying, ¡°And you shouldn¡¯t. Malaqua can only ever point you in the right direction and give you a baseline to circumvent the largest of pitfalls, but the actual Contract is always hashed out between the individual demon and human, and the final Contract is always full of danger to the human and the world.¡± She added, ¡°But as for Blackthorn, he¡¯s not a bad sort.¡± A bit less polite, ¡°Still an archmage, though.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    So much meaning in one small statement.

    Mark had hummed.

    And then Lola had stood up, grinning, and said, ¡°It¡¯s about noon! Have you had lunch yet? Let me take you to this place down the road and we can talk all about archmages and what I know about magic, and the Mage Guilds¡­¡±

    Lunch had been great. They had even managed to talk about some weirder sorts of Unions, though Mark had made no progress on his personal quest to make his body produce more adamantium at a faster rate. Lola couldn¡¯t help him with that, and she wasn¡¯t even willing to ask around about it. Mark being able to make adamantium was something she was not going to spread around.

    But Mark wanted more adamantium, for dozens of reasons. If he could just get more of the stuff, then he could truly become who he was meant to be¡­ Or at least he wouldn¡¯t have to use his alchemical silver spear as a stopgap measure. It was cheap enough to spend 100 goldleaf every mission to have a truly weighty, good length of metal to slash and stab into monsters, but the spear was only tier 5 when coated, and Mark wanted something better.

    And maybe, when Mark finally ended up with excess adamantium, he could sell it for crazy amounts of money that he could then use to finally buy artifacts and tools to make him able to exist around a dragon without getting squashed, and hopefully, eventually, being able to fight back. Because that was the real goal.

    Dragon hunting.

    Kaiju killing.

    Putting big monsters into the ground.

    As it was, unless the kaiju battle took place in an easy scenario, like, for instance, with Mark sitting next to a Brain Popper and feeding them power enough to blow up the 6 heads of an uncaring kaiju in the far distance, then Mark couldn¡¯t be anywhere near a kaiju battle without being in real danger.

    And Mark wanted to learn how to fly, for real, so¡­

    He needed answers from a mage.

    And so, Mark was here, sitting in the parking lot of Blackthorn Tower, but not wanting to go inside. He glanced at his phone, sitting in the cupholder. Quark came to life at Mark¡¯s glance, showing the time. 2:17 PM. The meeting with Blackthorn was at 2:30. Mark stared at the phone for a while, the time ticking to 2:18, and then 2:19, as Mark thought about Addashield and Mom and Dad and the destroyed house, and demons influencing archmages to commit atrocities, and dragons¡ª

    ¡°Shall I request a reschedule?¡± Quark asked.

    ¡°¡­ Y¡ª¡± Pause. ¡°No.¡± Mark picked up Quark and put him in his pocket, as he opened the door, muttering, ¡°It¡¯s time to see another archmage.¡±

    Mark stood in the parking lot, looking up at Blackthorn tower.

    It was shaped like a particularly thick and rough-hewn obelisk made of obsidian, with some weird architecture happening with the top floor, but it was really just tinted windows reflecting black and a disguised hoverport on the roof. It looked almost like natural obsidian, chipped by weather and shaped by forces beyond the ken of mortal men. And maybe it was, in part. It sat in the middle of Enchanting, a suburb and inner city located on the southern side of Memphi, overlooking the Mississippi River and Enchanting¡¯s own port on the river.

    Enchanting was a ¡®mage city¡¯, and there were guilds everywhere. The main ¡®mage guild¡¯ was here, but they were just in charge of making sure that mage secrets weren¡¯t released. They were sort of like the Collective in that way; like the Inquisitors. Less violent and more ¡®able to blackball someone from mage society¡¯, though. That meant no ability to buy reagents for alchemy, or mage books, and a whole bunch of other things. Magical learning was highly regulated.

    So there were reasons that mages stuck to the regulations. If they were found flouting the regulations, they were blackballed. Non-mages simply didn¡¯t ever learn the true secrets of magics that real mages learned, with few exceptions.

    Lola knew what to look for in her job as an Inquisitor, when it came to a mage exhibiting demonic influence, and if Mark ever wanted to become an Inquisitor he¡¯d need to learn a lot about magic for those reasons as well. But Lola wasn¡¯t a mage and she had a holy mission to keep humanity safe from demons, so her hands were already too full with that to add real magic to her skill set.

    She had told Mark that ¡®real magic¡¯ was a bunch of minor Powers, though, and that was about it.

    Mark already knew that much. Mom and Dad had gone to a year of arcanaeum to learn some minor magic. Mom had possessed the minor Power of Cleansing, while Dad had possessed the minor power of Telekinesis, and both of their powers had mutated to even more minor versions. At the end, Mom had been good at keeping water clean and that was about it, while Dad¡¯s power had mutated into Fish Yank.

    ¡­ Mark didn¡¯t want to go into the tower.

    Mark went into the tower anyway, one step in front of the other. Snow billowed across the ground as a gust of wind whipped through the parking lot, and Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets, to ward off the chill. A flurry dusted Mark¡¯s coat and hair.

    The doors opened at Mark¡¯s approach and the snow followed him in, but not very far. The door closed behind him, and Mark felt like he was in the dragon¡¯s den again, though it was really just a nice public lobby, if on the small side. Black and grey marble floors, obsidian pillars, and brightly colorful paintings on the walls done mostly in gold and yellow.

    Archmage colors; black and gold.

    The public entryway to Blackthorn Tower wasn¡¯t very large, because Archmage Blackthorn only had himself and his staff to worry about, but it was large enough to have a greeting room with large couches and a big fireplace that was roaring with flames. It was warm, and it felt lovely. Homey. Even in all this ostentation, the place felt kind of like a home. That¡¯s because it was. The whole place reminded Mark of a hotel entrance, but one of those fancy, ¡®you don¡¯t belong here¡¯ sort of hotels.

    This particular ¡®hotel¡¯ didn¡¯t have many guests in the front room at all. Mark only noticed three, aside from him.

    A student and a professor stood at the front counter, talking to the secretary on the other side of the counter, and some guy was sitting down on a couch by the fire, reading a book and sipping a coffee, probably waiting for his appointment, or something. Mark walked to the counter and stood behind the student and teacher.

    In an arcanaeum, students would wear robes or shoulder capes that bore the colors of their arcanaeum. Memphi had 7 arcanaeums, but all of them had an M on the logo. The student here, who was a teenage girl, had a red shoulder-cape with a white M on the center. The older man wore a plain grey small-cape, marking him as a professor.

    His words and tone also marked him as a professor; an angry one.

    ¡°Please,¡± said the man, straining to keep his voice even, ¡°Deirdre will be a great mage one day, and the world will be poorer off for her not getting the education she needs to truly grow strong. I am begging you to give her a chance. Please allow her to speak to the archmage directly. Just that much.¡±

    The small girl stood resolute, but silent.

    The secretary said nothing.

    Mark couldn¡¯t tell much of what was going on, not really, but he could sense the vectors of the professor, the student, the secretary, and even the guy sitting down and reading his book, and he could tell a lot about the situation from just that. The professor was truly trying to do well by the girl, his vector pointed at the girl and the secretary, but also high, high overhead, to an indeterminate area where Archmage Blackthorn probably was. The girl was putting on a brave face but she was reluctant to be here, her vector pointing right back out the door. The secretary and the guy sitting down both thought that the professor was pushing way too hard¡­ or something like that. Neither of them were really caring about what the professor was trying to do, with the secretary barely pointed in any direction at all, and the reader only glancing away from his book to look annoyed. Mark couldn¡¯t put exact emotions to all of what he was unionsensing, and he certainly couldn¡¯t read any minds, but he could tell basic intentions in the vectors he sensed.

    The secretary, to a small extent, and some guys watching from some cameras to a much larger extent, were mostly focused on Mark. They had seen him come in, and now the secretary was trying to figure out how to politely get rid of the guy standing in front of her, so that she could focus on Mark.

    Usually Mark didn¡¯t notice what people were focused on unless they had a desire to harm or undermine in some way, or unless he was out in the field, but being here felt like being out in the field, getting ready to face a monster or hundred.

    Mark¡¯s own vector was pointed outward, toward the door, just like the girl¡¯s.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir...¡± began the secretary.

    What followed was stuff that Mark tried not to pay attention to. It did not concern him at all.

    Soon the professor was huffing mad and walking away, though the girl was walking faster. She was out of the door first, saying something about how it wasn¡¯t a big deal, while the professor spoke about how it was a big deal, and how he couldn¡¯t teach her like she needed, but by all the gods, he was going to try. It was kinda nice to hear him say that, and the girl thought so, too.

    She grabbed the professor¡¯s hand, and said, ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, dad.¡±

    The professor¡¯s heart soared, and he said something about how she hadn¡¯t called him that yet, but the door closed and cut the rest of the conversation.

    Huh. So they were father and daughter then? Or maybe adopted? Mark didn¡¯t understand¡ª

    ¡°Sir? Mister Careed?¡± the secretary said, smiling, and she was much more focused, now.

    Mark stepped forward, saying, ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I have a¡­ a 2:30 appointment¡­¡± Mark imagined that he should have said more than that, but he simply went quiet.

    The clock on the wall read 2:28.

    The secretary smiled, and said, ¡°You can go up now if you want. The elevator over there will get you where you need to go.¡±

    She gestured politely to the left, and Mark saw an elevator door that was almost hidden among the decor.

    ¡°¡­ Well okay then,¡± Mark said.

    And then he went to the elevator.

    The door opened before he pressed the button.

    They were ready for him, huh?

    Mark got inside and there were no buttons to press. The door closed, and Mark¡¯s heartbeat raced, black veins extending under his skin and connecting him to the world. He felt trapped, but he knew he wasn¡¯t. The materials of the elevator seemed to be just tier 1, according to a scrape test Mark had instinctively, and maybe accidentally, performed on the metal in the wall. He retracted his adamantium back to his wrists before he broke anything else, and he relaxed. The elevator was just enhanced stuff made stronger so that normal wear and tear didn¡¯t easily happen. This was not a death trap. Mark could get out of here easily enough.

    But he was already within range of the archmage, and that terrified him.

    Mark had seen Addashield kill with ease. He knew how powerful archmages truly were.

    Blackthorn wasn¡¯t a 360-year-old archmage who made the world what it was. He was not an Addashield. But Blackthorn was still an archmage. He still had a demon telling him all the secrets of the world, how to do real magic, and strengthening his body enough that Mark¡¯s adamantium would have a tough time actually harming him¡­

    Mark breathed in the good, and breathed out the bad, settling himself, black miasma threading into the world with every breath.

    And the elevator went up.

 113

    The elevator dinged.

    The doors opened, revealing a vast open space at the top of the tower, like a superhero¡¯s penthouse suite. The first thing Mark noticed was the smell. It smelled like a clean forest, and also like sweet smoke. Mark couldn¡¯t place or really understand the smell, but he smelled it all the same.

    The apartment itself was all light and air and plants growing in small garden patches, but also large, soft-looking couches and a big fireplace like the one in the lobby downstairs. Half of the entry room had a wall made of windows, giving a mostly unobstructed view of the horizon to the north and the east. There was a massive door in the center of that view, offering a way to get out onto a balcony that wrapped around the exterior of the tower. Plants grew out there, mostly bushes, but there was one nice, low-growing tree with brilliant green leaves growing in a protected part of the roof. The other half of the interior room was three separate floors and a staircase leading up those stairs. Down here on the first floor was a big kitchen¡ª

    Archmage Steve Blackthorn was shirtless in a bathrobe, smoking something in a pipe as he flipped pancakes on a flat top grill. He had on boxers. He looked like any normal sort of guy, with dark brown hair, brown eyes, a pale complexion, and a relaxed attitude; like a guy in his house smoking a joint and making breakfast.

    A nude woman was getting a drink from the fridge behind him. According to Mark¡¯s unionsense, there were three other people in the apartment, all of them out of sight, in the other, larger half of the suite. Two of those people were probably having sex, according to their vectors. The third one was doing something else. The nude woman saw Mark and grinned as she held her beer. She walked behind Blackthorn and slapped the archmage on the ass, smiling and chuckling as she did so.

    Blackthorn went, ¡°Ahh!¡± as he jumped a little, and then he laughed and grinned and turned. ¡°You¡¯re not tired?¡± Blackthorn happily asked.

    ¡°I am very tired, and you have a guest.¡± The woman smirked as she pointed at Mark.

    Mark had taken a single step out of the elevator, and the elevator just now closed behind him. There was no escape¡­ And besides that, Mark wanted answers to questions. He needed to be here.

    Blackthorn raised an eyebrow as he turned and looked at Mark. His eyes went wider and he exclaimed, ¡°Mark! You showed up!¡±

    The guy¡¯s pipe fell out of his mouth but it didn¡¯t fall down. It floated to the side and sat down on a small dish on a table in front of the kitchen. Blackthorn fluffed up his bathrobe and tied it around himself, while the spatula he had been using was now flipping the pancakes by itself, hovering there and exerting force outside of Blackthorn¡¯s direct action. Cooked pancakes, all golden and with spots of blueberries, flopped onto a plate, as more batter floated out of a big bowl and plopped onto the grill. Fresh batter sizzled in a lot of butter.

    The whole scene reminded Mark of when Addashield cooked in Mark¡¯s home in Orange City. Mark recalled the taste of basilisk eggs, scrambled well, and sausage imported from Empire Aluatha, and how Addashield had hovered juice out of the fridge to pour Mark a glass.

    Blackthorn asked, ¡°Can I get you some pancakes, Mark? Maybe some coffee?¡± With a subtle questioning that was probably friendly, but which sounded concerned and which could have meant anything, he quickly added, ¡°Are you drinking coffee, yet?¡±

    He was asking about substance abuse, or something, maybe?

    ¡°¡­ I have started drinking coffee. I prefer the flavored ones with lots of creamer.¡±

    Blackthorn grinned. ¡°Ah ha! Yes! That¡¯s the good stuff!¡± Blackthorn clapped his hands and announced, ¡°What is life without joy, right! Always go for the good stuff! Never go for black coffee. Black coffee is just boring old caffeine.¡± He walked over to a coffee machine that looked just as expensive as everything else in the apartment, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll make both of us some good stuff! Do you want it with or without some enhancers?¡±

    Blackthorn¡¯s Contract with his demon required Blackthorn to do drugs and sex, all the time, because his demon wanted to experience all of that, all the time, and Blackthorn wanted all of that, too. So when Blackthorn mentioned ¡®enhancers¡¯, that¡¯s what Mark imagined he meant. It was probably the correct idea.

    ¡°No thank you, sir,¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll just take the latte, if you¡¯re making them.¡±

    Blackthorn grinned. ¡°Of course!¡± And then he started making coffee, and after a flash of light, he had two cups of the stuff, and he was walking toward a table to set down the cups, saying, ¡°I¡¯m glad you finally accepted my invitation! I was afraid I had turned you off too much the last time we talked. Now, I know a bit about what you want, but I need you to tell me what you want, Mark. Please sit with me.¡±

    ¡­ Mark decided to gloss over Blackthorn flashing coffee into existence. He sat down at the table with Blackthorn and had a sip of his coffee while Blackthorn sipped his own. Mark barely tasted it. He set down the cup.

    Mark began, ¡°I¡¯m here to ask questions about the nature of magic and what that demon Leash told me about¡­ Uh. I¡¯ve gone to the Mage Guild looking for answers, but I¡¯ve only just the other day found out that the Mage Guild is more of a regulatory body and not actually in charge of information, but I know about mage contracts and the inherent secrecy of the information. I don¡¯t want to do a contract. I just want answers about¡­ everything. Chances are I¡¯m going to ask Addavein about all this stuff, too, but I don¡¯t know what he will say¡­ or even if he will be offended by what Leash offered; that idea of splitting Addavein back into the mage and the demon.¡±

    Talking to that giant dragon would be like talking to a dragon, as the saying went; ¡®talk to a dragon and have your life upended¡¯. Talking to an archmage or anyone in any real position of power was pretty much the same as ¡®talking to a dragon¡¯, but not nearly the same.

    Blackthorn sipped his coffee while Mark spoke. When Mark was done he set down his coffee and said, ¡°I¡¯ve gotten your full transcripts of the questioning session by Justicar, after the Demon Leash incident. I¡¯ve read every statement given by everyone involved, and I¡¯ve heard a few different ways in which Leash promised you several impossible things, should you Contract with him. I¡¯m not going to go over much of that with you, because there¡¯s too much to go over. Mostly, you should know this: demons are not a monolith. They hoard knowledge. Not all of them knows everything that all the rest know, but there is a vast, basic level of knowledge that they all have, that would put almost any archmage to shame, and that includes me.

    ¡°I spend most of my days high and having fun, Mark. I am not a studious person. My demon, Planty, is similarly non-studious. I am at the lower level of what an archmage is expected to be able to do. Oh sure, I can kill any kaiju, so I do my duty, but I¡¯m not very solid.

    ¡°But what I have learned in various inquiries about what Leash said to you, about the resurrection magics of the elves, about ripping a dragon apart back into a person and a demon, and about permanently killing demons¡­¡± Blackthorn scrunched his face, looking away before looking back at Mark, saying, ¡°There are so many caveats to all of those things that there is no good way to start talking about them, other than to say that they¡¯re probably all impossible things, and yet, there¡¯s a 20% chance that the resurrection and separation magics might be true.¡±

    Mark felt himself relax.

    So there was a 20% chance, huh?

    Good enough.

    Mark said, ¡°Thank you for telling me that. I suppose, now, I need to get stronger if I¡¯m ever to venture into Endless Daihoon to find those resurrection magics. To that end, can you answer questions about magic, and help me eventually reach that goal? Like, specifically and for now, how about a flight spell? How does that work?¡±

    Mark was definitely overstepping the bounds of politeness, but he felt secure enough to do that. And if Blackthorn didn¡¯t want to help, then that was fine, too. Mark could move on from this encounter having called it a success already.

    Blackthorn breathed a little, and then hummed, and said, ¡°Strength will not be your problem. Capability will be your problem. Asking about a flight spell is a good idea, and yet...¡± He leaned forward slightly, and in that moment, he changed. He was still the young-looking man he appeared to be, and yet his shadows seemed deeper. His eyes drooped. He was almost a hundred years old in a 20-something body, but he rarely looked it. He looked every bit of his true age in that moment. His voice was the same, but it was also deeper, as he asked, ¡°Are you going to contract with Leash? Will you accept Malaqua¡¯s arbitration of your Contract?¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart beat with black veins and he almost cracked the coffee cup in his hands, but he stopped himself. He let go of the mug and tried not to glare as he said, ¡°Death to all monsters, and that includes demons. I will never contract with a demon.¡±

    Blackthorn stared at Mark for a long, deep moment, and then he pulled back, but his age remained in the look in his eyes. He simply said, ¡°Good to hear. You shouldn¡¯t go into one of those Contracts at all. You¡¯re going to be strong enough without it.¡±

    A moment passed.

    Blackthorn seemed to relax, his body language loosening, his age melting away into youth, and he grinned. His vector had been rather pointed in weird, solid ways for a good minute there, but now his vector relaxed. Mark sensed Blackthorn¡¯s desires point away from Mark and toward the coffee on the table, the pipe sitting on the dish, and then to the hallway beyond, where someone said something and another person said something else, neither of which Mark could hear, but which he understood to be small, nice nothings.

    Mark pretended to relax.

    Blackthorn went, ¡°Well then! Ha ha!¡± He smiled. ¡°Good to know you¡¯re not interested in demons!¡±

    Mark frowned a little. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in them for Contract reasons, but I am interested in knowing how to kill them.¡±

    ¡°Oh well sure. That¡¯s what I meant, too.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t what he meant at all. He was worried, or concerned, or a more complicated set of emotions about Mark Contracting. Not about actually fighting demons, or learning how to fight demons.

    Mark said, ¡°Everyone should want to know how to kill demons. I wasn¡¯t even aware such a thing was even possible until Leash spoke of it. I thought they were all immortal, bodiless things, each of them tens of thousands of years old and unkillable.¡±

    Blackthorn smiled, and then he went in a completely different conversational direction, ¡°So hey! You¡¯ve only got around 720 grams of adamantium on you, but you¡¯re adamantium blooded, right? From what you have on your person, I can see you haven¡¯t cracked the secret of making more.¡±

    Mark blanked for a moment.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    His thoughts flashed across a spectrum of worry. Blackthorn knew that Mark could make adamantium, himself; that he was like one of those adamantium monsters that people hunted for their biometal. Blackthorn had called Mark ¡®adamantium blooded¡¯, meaning that there were probably similar words for the ¡®mithril blooded¡¯, which was the most common biometal that practically all mithrilkinetics made themselves, eventually. Adamantiumkinetics, like Mark, almost never made adamantium themselves.

    Blackthorn smiled as he watched Mark have A Moment, seeming to see everything Mark was thinking, as he was thinking it.

    Mark said, ¡°I do not¡­¡± Mark frowned.

    Silence.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to be worried about being locked up for your adamantium production. It is a valid worry. Docile or mostly-docile adamantium monsters are locked up in very elaborate and secured containment zones in all of the major empires of Daihoon, and they are farmed for their adamantium. People who can produce adamantium are included in those lock ups, or at least they used to be, before the Reveal and all that shit show. There were lots of prison breaks back then. So many things happened back then.¡± Blackthorn continued, ¡°You still shouldn¡¯t let people know you can make the stuff. People are fucking greedy ass shitbags.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah, they are.¡±

    Blackthorn nodded. ¡°I¡¯m a greedy shitbag, too.¡±

    Somehow, Mark was not surprised. He deadpanned, ¡°What do you want?¡±

    Blackthorn grinned. ¡°I want you to be my personal adamantium farm and I¡¯ll be your mage-on-retainer.¡±

    Mark frowned.

    ¡°We¡¯re not doing prisons or holdings, or anything like that. You can live your life and do whatever. But when you want a big question answered, you give me a kilogram of adamantium. That¡¯s enough to make one kaiju blade, with enough left over to outfit some smaller weapons, all for use in defense of Memphi. It¡¯s just about the best deal that anyone could ever have with regard to answers from a real archmage, because they¡¯ll be comprehensive answers. Enough to fill up an afternoon full of discussion, and maybe even a few weeks of afternoons. I won¡¯t stop instructing you until you either ask me to stop, or you get what I was trying to teach you.

    ¡°It¡¯s a priceless offer.

    ¡°But because we live in a world of actual prices, I can put numbers to this. 1 kilo of adamantium is currently 37 million goldleaf, with a constantly fluctuating price because Addavein disturbed the whole market. 1 kilo used to be worth 55.2 million. By way of comparing: A comprehensive magical answer from an archmage is impossible to buy, but 55 million would tempt most archmages. A kilo of adamantium is almost as impossible to buy as buying pure prismatic mana.

    ¡°The favor of a dragon, the action of a god, a prime soul crystal, or a treatise on one of the Big Spells and outside of the oversight of the Mage Guild; all of these are things that are worth about the same as a kilo of adamantium, and yet to call them equal in value would be a situational lie. But you have too much adamantium and I have too many answers, and thus, we can trade.¡±

    Blackthorn grinned.

    Mark had allowed Blackthorn to finish, because that was the polite thing to do, but now that he was done Mark wanted to stand up and walk away.

    This sounded too much like making a deal with a demon. And, Mark had no idea how to make a kilo of adamantium. He couldn¡¯t make any adamantium right now; not any faster than he already was, which was at the rate of 15 grams per year, or something similar to that. Blackthorn made it seem like Mark giving him that much adamantium was just a matter of¡­ of deciding to do it?

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how to make adamantium yet, so I¡¯m afraid this deal is over before it can begin. Sorry to waste your time.¡± Mark stood up.

    He wanted to get out of there, anyway¡ª

    ¡°Of course I¡¯ll tell you how to make more of the stuff first. I want you to succeed, Mark, because when you succeed, we all succeed. Just look at all those monsters you¡¯ve killed these last few months! I¡¯m very happy that you¡¯ve come to Memphi, Mark.¡± Blackthorn added, ¡°And I need that adamantium, but I¡¯m not dealing with that dragon. I¡¯m gonna need weapons that can kill dragons, because that¡¯s my main expected duty happening with this whole Twin-Cities-thing.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart thumped.

    Blackthorn was going to be the one tasked with killing dragons?

    Mark sat back down, looking at Blackthorn, as he said, ¡°So obviously you know which buttons to press to make me interested in this arrangement.¡±

    Blackthorn grinned and put a hand over his chest, saying, ¡°I solemnly swear to never use my massive power differential over you and yours to ever purposely harm you or yours.¡± He put his hand down. ¡°But I need that adamantium to outfit my girls and guys with kaiju blades, Mark. When the portals open and connect the Two Worlds here in Memphi and the kaijus and monster waves start flowing this way, we need good weapons that aren¡¯t Addavein-derived. We need those weapons in the hands of everyone.¡±

    It was quiet, for a moment, as Mark thought.

    The automatic cooking magics continued to grill pancakes in the background. Butter sizzled. Someone chuckled down the hallway. Blackthorn looked at Mark, and Mark looked away.

    Mark turned back to Blackthorn.

    He asked, ¡°Do you want to kill him?¡±

    Did he want to kill Addavein?

    ¡°No.¡±

    No, he did not want to kill Addavein.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what answer he was expecting, or which answer he wanted. His own feelings about Addavein were complicated. But to hear a ¡®no¡¯ so solidly said was still somehow¡­ disappointing, in some weird way.

    Mark said nothing.

    Blackthorn continued, ¡°I¡¯ll still try to kill him if he steps out of line, but no one wants that battle, Mark. It would be a disaster. You understand that, right?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes, I understand that.¡± Mark frowned a little. And then he discarded his weird emotions, and said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight him or kill him either. The idea that he¡¯s my talzarki is growing on me.¡± A ¡®brother born in disastrous circumstance¡¯ was much easier for Mark to stomach than Addavein being some sort of actual brother. Mark stared at Blackthorn. ¡°But Leash spoke of separating Addavein into Addashield and Kanda.¡±

    Blackthorn looked the same as before, but his vector was more pointed now. Darker. Blacker.

    As though it wasn¡¯t a major question, Blackthorn asked, ¡°Is that something you¡¯d want to do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    Complicated feelings abounded, and in some sort of small way, Mark wondered if it would be easier to separate the dragon into the mage and the demon, than it would be to kill the dragon. Mark honestly had no idea of the difficulty or the involvement in the first option, while the second option, the fight-to-the-death, would end up with too many deaths.

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to even talk about things like that.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I can imagine that, yes.¡±

    Blackthorn looked at Mark, and Mark returned the look.

    Blackthorn moved on. ¡°Let¡¯s talk adamantium, manifested mana, and how that relates to you.¡±

    Mark sat up a bit straighter. He nodded.

 114

    ¡°Have you learned any real magic at all?¡±

    ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t think so?¡± Mark said.

    The sun slanted in from the giant windows of the archmage¡¯s superhero-like suite, at the top of his tower, located in the city of Enchanting. Various plants abounded in planters here and there, and some of them looked like cleaner plants to Mark, but he wasn¡¯t sure. He hadn¡¯t really studied the plants at all.

    Mark sat on one side of a grey marble dining room table and Archmage Steve Blackthorn sat on the other side. In the kitchen, blueberry pancakes made themselves, the archmage¡¯s magic spell working even when the archmage wasn¡¯t paying attention, which seemed like something the archmage didn¡¯t do a whole lot. Pay attention, that was.

    Mark wore nice clothes; professional. The archmage wore a bathrobe and boxers, his chest showing between the flaps of fabric. He seemed like a rather non-serious person, but Mark was probably wrong about that¡­ a little. Addashield had been about as laid-back as Blackthorn appeared to be, but Addashield had never truly been laid back at all. Blackthorn was currently high, though, and Mark was pretty sure that Addashield had never gotten high on the job¡­ or at least not when he was around Mark.

    Archmage Steve Blackthorn hummed, and then he waved a hand in the air and flew some blueberry pancakes over to the table. Syrup, plates, forks, and knives soon followed. With a flick of his hand Mark¡¯s latte refilled, and three homemade pancakes sat before Mark, while Blackthorn got five.

    With a knife in one hand and fork in the other, Blackthorn started cutting into his pancakes, saying, ¡°Have some. They¡¯re pretty good! I don¡¯t adulterate food unless it¡¯s clearly marked as such, so there¡¯s no enhancers in these.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I could eat,¡± Mark said, as he looked down at the food. He picked up a fork. ¡°Thank you for the meal.¡±

    Blackthorn grinned. And then he started chowing down.

    Mark soon followed.

    Neither of them spoke, though Mark kept expecting Blackthorn to start talking between bites, or something like that.

    They were really good pancakes. The blueberries were a little tart and the syrup was the good stuff, and Mark relaxed as he ate. Blackthorn smiled as he watched Mark eat, and then he smiled wider halfway through eating, savoring the flavor in his mouth, his eyes closing in an almost rapturous way. He looked truly happy.

    The meal passed quickly, and Mark felt better with a full stomach.

    Two new nude girls and a third one, the same one Mark had seen before, and also a nude dude, got some pancakes for themselves, chatting a little as they got their food. They shushed each other and giggled, though, so they were ¡®trying to keep it quiet¡¯. They were doing a terrible job of keeping quiet, which Mark assumed was the point. The girls winked at Mark and grinned a lot, and the guy grabbed one of the girls¡¯ asses while he winked at Mark. Soon, the four of them took their pancakes back into another room.

    Blackthorn grinned a little as Mark watched the people walk away, but he said nothing.

    As Blackthorn was finishing off the last of his stack of pancakes, he started talking, ¡°So I¡¯m not sure how much magical education you¡¯ve gotten at all, but you say you¡¯ve never heard anything, which is pretty true for almost all people. Noble kids from Daihoon and those who have been raised around mages usually pick up one or two things. I¡¯m pretty sure you don¡¯t count as nobility yet, but it has been 6 months since your Tutorial, or something like that. And you¡¯ve been around Addavein?¡±

    There were questions in there and a whole lot of statements, and it was a little difficult to parse what, exactly, Blackthorn was getting at.

    Mark decided to respond with, ¡°Well¡­ Addavein gave me an archival-type of Shaper manual. Just some basic stuff to give to anyone who Awakened a Shaper Talent¡­ Though it was probably something that would have been given to a noble¡¯s kid, yeah. I don¡¯t think I got much other magical training?¡±

    Blackthorn nodded. ¡°And the Color Drop and knowledge of Key Word alchemy.¡±

    Mark frowned. ¡°¡­ Okay?¡±

    Was Mark supposed to talk about absolutely everything that he had learned between then and now?

    Because most of what he had learned was that ¡®adults¡¯ and ¡®the people in charge¡¯ were all muddling through life just like people half their ages, or less. That didn¡¯t seem like magical knowledge at all, but it very well could be.

    Blackthorn chuckled to see Mark¡¯s expression. ¡°A lot of stuff counts as magical training. A lot of people don¡¯t think what they have seen is magical knowledge, but that stuff is everywhere, and it forms the basis of what sort of magical education is easiest for a person. Here¡¯s the big secret to magic, Mark: Every single thing you learn, and are influenced by, forms the foundation for what you can become.¡±

    Mark¡­ nodded. ¡°Okay?¡±

    Was that supposed to be a big revelation?

    ¡­ Maybe it was?

    Blackthorn grinned. ¡°It¡¯s not a ground shaking revelation until it is.¡± He moved on. ¡°I need you to imagine yourself as a house¡­ or a pond, or a tool shack. A cave with a few crystals growing here and there. Whatever you want. Basically: what you are right now is a bare room with a few intractable pieces of furniture. The bed in the house, the lily in the pond, the chainsaw in the shack, the crystal growing in the corner of the cave. Those pieces of furniture came with your Awakening. You, my tri-Talent young man, have 3 pieces of furniture in your house right now.

    ¡°If you want to do more magic then you gotta add more furniture.¡±

    Oh shit, they were talking about spellwork right now.

    Mark sat straighter.

    Blackthorn noticed. He grinned and continued, ¡°The astral body can only be stretched so much, and yours is already very stretched since you have three whole Talents¡­¡± Blackthorn paused. ¡°Okay. So. This gets complicated, but I¡¯ll make it simple. You got the house analogy yet? Ask your questions. I want to make sure you understand that part.¡±

    Mark had lots of questions about all that. From the nature of ¡®space¡¯ inside of a house, to the sudden question that maybe Mark¡¯s ¡®house¡¯ was full already, since he already had three Talents. Did it work like that?

    Mark asked, ¡°Does having three Talents fill up my house already? No room for a flying spell?¡±

    Blackthorn readily shook his head; he didn¡¯t even need to think before he shook his head.

    That made Mark feel a lot better about his prospects for other forms of power in the future.

    Blackthorn said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t exactly work like that. That¡¯s not something this conversation is about, but it does bear speaking upon, because a proper education starts from the ground up. To that end:

    ¡°You have room for an endless number of spells, but not really, because the spells you can learn and do well are limited and expanded by your starting Powers. In many situations, a person who starts off with a small Power, like a simple Knack or Knowing about something, is easier able to build and expand toward other magics. Someone with a Knack for growing plants will be able to expand their magics into other plant-based directions rather easily, but they won¡¯t be able to do flight magics very well, not unless they take a bunch of other steps to get there. Someone with a Knowing about the weather might be able to fly a lot easier, eventually.

    ¡°It¡¯s all about the base mana that the Tutorial or living life Awakens in a person.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Like adamantium is a type of mana?¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Blackthorn grinned. ¡°Tell me: What are Powers?¡±

    Mark had already heard this part from Addashield, almost 10 months ago, back before Mark was crashed into a coma by the combined magics of Addashield and Lola. Mark recalled most of those words from memory, but he had to fill in the blanks a little, as he said, ¡°Powers are magic spells that never stop, that never weaken, that are granted by the Tutorial, which used to be called the Thresher. Everything else can weaken and fade, but Powers are eternal.¡±

    Blackthorn breathed deep, looking like a conquering hero for a brief moment.

    And then he said, ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how that related to him being able to produce adamantium on demand, but he was pretty sure Blackthorn was getting there, and Mark was intrigued anyway. This was real magical learning. Mark was absolutely sure that any baseline from Earth hearing this would spontaneously generate some sort of astral body. A ¡®baseline¡¯ from Daihoon probably grew up learning this stuff, though.

    Blackthorn smirked, adding, ¡°Powers can obviously weaken, though. But only temporarily. Like an overworked muscle. You can adamantiumkinesis all the time these days, but I bet if you strained yourself in battle and you didn¡¯t have Union to support your Kinetics, then you would grow tired, yes?¡±

    Mark nodded. That was a pretty normal limitation of Powers. Overuse always causes a weakening.

    The archmage nodded, and then said, ¡°Magics are twists in personal power, using the mana in a person and locking it down into limbs of our own making. When a mage overuses their magic, the tools break. The mage needs to reform the spellwork inside of their soul to use it again. This is why it takes years to learn how to make a spell, because not only do you have to learn how to make the spell, you have to make it perfectly, with all of the side-powers that a normal Power would have. Most every mage falls short in those side-power goals.

    ¡°For example, your Adamantiumkinesis allows you to be immune to all adamantium weapons. If someone shot you with an adamantium bullet, you would probably get knocked around some, but you¡¯d be fine. Other people would splat. That is a side-power to your main Power. Some would call ¡®immunity to adamantium weaponry¡¯ a Power all on its own. A brawny not breaking their body when they try to lift something too heavy is another side-power. A witch being immune to the toxins of the spells she makes is a side-power. All of those side-powers are what costs a mage endless headache when they build their spells. A true Power is anywhere from a single great strength to a thousand smaller ones, like facets to a grand gem.

    ¡°And when a Powered individual overuses their Power, the ¡®limb¡¯ merely falls asleep. It will wake up just fine when it is given time to rest.

    ¡°All of that and more are the main differences between a mage using spellwork and a Powered person using a Power.¡±

    Mark blinked. That was¡­ surprising, and not too surprising at all.

    Blackthorn waited.

    Mark said, ¡°I never heard it like that, but it makes sense?¡±

    ¡°Good! It should, because that is how it works.

    ¡°Now that the basic stuff is out of the way, I can tell you this: Your ¡®house¡¯ is made out of adamantium. That¡¯s what it means to be adamantium blooded. That is why you are able to produce more adamantium, even at a slow rate.

    ¡°Every living thing produces mana of various kinds. Most Adamantiumkinetics actually use unaspected mana that has been aspected in the act of gaining Adamantiumkinesis.

    ¡°You do not use generic mana at all.

    ¡°You produce and use adamantium mana.

    ¡°As you live, as your ¡®house¡¯ settles in this way and that, your mana crystallizes in your body. This happens to everyone. Usually the mana simply flows away, or it never settles in the first place. Sometimes people have to clean out their mana channels or else they risk having issues with spellcastings later, and that¡¯s an ordeal, but Powers don¡¯t have that issue. You don¡¯t have that issue, either, but your specific mana is adamantium, and adamantium is solid. It does not flow away at all. To say it another way: What you are doing when you make more adamantium, is that your uncontrolled mana, outside of your active use of your Powers, is turning solid, and being deposited inside of your body in your bones, instead of astrally, in your astral body, where it could cause problems.

    ¡°The safe deposition of adamantium in your body is another side-power of your Adamantiumkinesis.¡±

    Blackthorn let that sink in.

    Mark¡¯s mind rapidly flashed around as half-understood implications abounded. As he realized what was being said, Mark frowned. He asked, ¡°There¡¯s no way to actively cause this process? It¡¯ll always be a ¡®side effect¡¯ of¡­ of what? A natural cycle process?¡±

    The idea that the body made mana was not a new one to Mark, but hearing it laid out like that cleared up a bunch of questions that Mark wasn¡¯t even aware he had.

    Blackthorn grinned. ¡°Affecting the natural cycle is an easy thing to do, because the goal here, specifically for you, Mark, is to grow your house. The more house you have, the more deposits you can make.

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do.

    ¡°Astral body stretches, primarily, and condensation focusing on adamantium creation, as a side effect. These are the things I will tell you about, and which you will follow through on your own, later.

    ¡°Usually mages do something like stretches all the time because they want more mana, too. Everyone¡¯s mana is different, though, so everyone has different techniques. Every skilled mage I know crystallizes their own excess mana on their days off so that they can spend that mana on big spells later. Usually they crystallize that mana in their astral bodies, ¡®storing it away¡¯ properly, like a piece of furniture in their house, so that they can use it later. Improper storage leads to problems, though. That sort of storage is an application of this technique we will not be going over. That lesson is outside of the scope of this lesson, because you don¡¯t need that lesson.

    ¡°The primary lesson is you, manifesting your mana, as adamantium.

    ¡°Most mages start off manifesting personal mana crystals, and then they figure out how to make them ephemeral so that they don¡¯t have to carry around the crystals. Mostly, though, crystallized mana is useless to people other than the creator, so most mages try to transition into ephemeral mana crystals in the astral body as fast as they can.

    ¡°All of the magical biometals are mostly usable in their manifested form, though.¡±

    Mark was absolutely sure that he was missing a lot of vital nuances to Blackthorn¡¯s words, but he was getting most of it. Enough to understand.

    And it all felt too simple.

    Were these basic magic lessons? Perhaps very basic, actually. ¡®Making a resource to use later¡¯ seemed like magery 101¡­

    Or maybe not?

    Mark found himself scrunching his face in annoyance as he asked, ¡°Is this basic magery? Like one of the very first lessons a person would learn in the process of becoming a mage?¡±

    ¡°More like second year arcanaeum stuff. It¡¯s stuff that almost every mage eventually learns, though. For you, and for other biometallic people, adamantium blooded or otherwise, it¡¯s the first and pretty much only lesson that they¡¯re taught. It¡¯s my understanding that making ephemeral adamantium for use in the soul is nearly impossible, and the base mana is more useful as a metal, anyway.¡± Blackthorn said, ¡°I¡¯m throwing a lot at you, I know. It¡¯s not important for you to know all of this, but I want to give you a taste of what lessons with me will look like. I imagine you will research all of this later.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    So he was giving more than necessary, huh?

    That was¡­ That was good, right?

    The part about ¡®the only lesson they needed to know¡¯ was concerning, though. Mark imagined that the powers-that-be of the Old World of Daihoon would find adamantium blooded people and train them to make adamantium, and nothing else, as they locked them into a menagerie to farm them for their metal. The exact nature of that¡­ sort of thing, was probably both better and worse than Mark imagined.

    Blackthorn continued, ¡°When we broke those people out of captivity in the Reveal, this general lesson spilled out into the greater world. A lot of mages got a lot better at being mages back then, now that they had the resources to actually do big magics all on their own. It won¡¯t be a magic resource for you, though.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Mark nodded a little. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d do with mana anyway. He had no spells to cast, right?

    ¡­ None of this entire talk had been about actual spellwork at all, had it? Nope. No magic here. Just basic stretching exercises.

    Huh.

    Mark wondered if Mom and Dad did this sort of thing.

    Blackthorn kept going, ¡°Basically: I¡¯m gonna tell you how to grow the house of your astral body, which is made entirely out of adamantium mana. In doing so, you will have a larger range, and a greater ability to use the various tools inside of your house to induce your Healthy Body to start growing adamantium with both Union and Adamantiumkinesis. It¡¯s a bit complicated to actually do that process, but not overly so.¡± Blackthorn asked, ¡°Understand everything so far?¡±

    ¡°I make adamantium mana and I use it in every part of my Power. I can induce growth¡­ somehow. By stretching?¡±

    ¡°Correct. Now, all of that? That¡¯s just the base idea, and we¡¯ll go over how you do that in a bit. This next part is the real secret; the one that they don¡¯t usually tell the biometallics.¡± Blackthorn said, ¡°You need to get some pellets of osmium, gold, and platinum, in roughly equal quantities, and you need to eat them. Just a small amount. Not much at all, really.¡±

    Whatever Mark had expected Blackthorn to say, it had not been that.

    Mark... nodded a little. ¡°Okay?¡±

    ¡°Once you have eaten the metals, you will focus on Union and Adamantiumkinesis and expand yourself as far as you can go, while also focusing on various goals in life. That will be enough to start the condensation of adamantium in your body.

    ¡°Adamantium is manifested purpose, Mark, but the ephemeral mana can achieve a physical grounding in gold, platinum, and osmium. Mostly osmium.

    ¡°Once you do that, then growing mana deposits in your body, for you, is specifically the process of focusing on one goal, and then focusing on another, while stretching your astral body wide. This goal switching and stretching causes your mana to condense around those metals. If someone had a fire-aspected soul, then they¡¯d focus on flames and on different sorts of crystallization techniques. If they had a dark-aspected soul, then they¡¯d go hide out and grow their mana in a dark cave. You just need to focus on your goals that make you adamant about something. Anything at all, really.

    ¡°So to grow adamant mana, you must mentally pick up a goal, put it down, pick up another one, and cycle your focus.

    ¡°I imagine that Union and Healthy Body will be a great help in bridging a lot of gaps in your understanding of what will happen when you line up all of these little exercises. With Healthy Body, you might be able to direct where the adamantium manifests, instead of just gathering like tumors in your gut, or wherever. A lot of people in those adamantium zoos grew adamantium in their guts, but some people replaced their nails and hair with adamantium growths. Addavein grows it out of his spine spikes, for instance.¡±

    Blackthorn went silent, looking at Mark.

    And Mark¡¯s mind raced. The part about eating metals was¡­ completely unexpected. How would anyone even figure that out?

    Mark asked, ¡°I suppose the adamantium needs a starter seed, or whatever it is called, to start crystallizing? And that¡¯s what the heavy metals do? Why those metals? Does it have to be those metals?¡±

    ¡°Who knows! Probably demons?¡± Blackthorn said, though it was kind of a question. He shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s just how it is. All the biometals use those three elements. Adamantium is mostly osmium-derived. Mithril is mostly platinum-derived. Orichalcum is mostly gold-derived. Alchemical silver is a process that takes place in a flask and which uses silver, so that¡¯s not the same as the Big Three... and that¡¯s a complicated topic with a lot more to it than that. Alchemical silver doesn¡¯t last very long because it¡¯s a treatment that tries to mimic the true nature of biometals, but fails because most people making the stuff are just following a recipe and they have no idea what they¡¯re actually doing.¡±

    So that was interesting.

    Mark nodded. ¡°Okay, sure.¡± Mark thought. He asked, ¡°And all I have to do is eat some¡­ toxic metals?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t be toxic in the quantities you will eat. It¡¯s five grams of each of all three metals. That¡¯ll last you a decade¡­¡± Blackthorn paused. And then he said, ¡°Do you know who did your Color Drop treatment?¡±

    Mark blanked at the change in topic. ¡°Not at all? I assumed it was some big time alchemist in Aluatha. Maybe in Crytalis? Addashield was based out of there¡­¡± Mark thought. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything other than that?¡±

    Where was Blackthorn going with that?

    Blackthorn looked deep in thought.

    Mark waited.

    Blackthorn put on a smile. ¡°Eh! No matter!¡± He said to Mark, ¡°So that¡¯s the whole thing. Now you know about the nature of your mana as adamantium, how it relates to your Powers, and to gold, platinum, and osmium, and how to get more adamantium. All that¡¯s left is for you to go out and buy some osmium, gold, and platinum, eat it, and figure out the rest. I suggest pellets. Not powders. Your astral body will absorb them so you won¡¯t poop them out, but, if they need to come out, or if they¡¯re not what you need them to be, then you can remove pellets a lot easier than you can powders. Osmium is pretty hard to get, and most of what you get out there might be fake.

    ¡°One warning, though. When you start making adamantium it might come out of weird places. Keep in mind where it comes out and don¡¯t force it to come out beyond a normal rate. It¡¯s probably gonna be painful if you start growing metal in your veins, and you¡¯ll need to rethink everything before you continue. If you start growing adamantium in your guts then you just poop it out.¡± Blackthorn stood, saying, ¡°Figure out a question for next time, and then come with a kilo of adamantium as payment.¡±

    ¡­ That was it?

    That was it, Mark supposed.

    Mark knew a dismissal when he saw one. He stood, and said, ¡°Thank you for the lesson, and the food.¡±

    Blackthorn looked ready to say something¡­ but he paused.

    Mark decided to wait.

    A moment stretched¡ª

    Blackthorn grunted a little, then began, ¡°When you get to be in my position, Mark, you see a lot of plots that don¡¯t involve you. I see one right now. Whoever made your Color Drop did so knowing you were adamantium blooded. Maybe Addashield told them, or not. Maybe Addashield was surprised that he had managed to make an adamantium blooded boy, and that he was going to take advantage of all the metal you could make in the future. Or maybe some other party knew what they were doing when they helped make you.

    ¡°Or maybe not.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know your whole story beyond what the public and a few other sources know, and I like it that way.

    ¡°So I¡¯m just going to give you a professional warning: Someone could dose you with platinum, gold, and osmium, and you¡¯d never have known it, but you also never would have dosed yourself. Osmium in particular is very hard to source. You really don¡¯t have to eat much of the metals for a long-time benefit, either. 5 grams of each would last you 10 years.

    ¡°From that first dosage, you¡¯d start producing adamantium at 100-times your current rate. For you, with Union and Healthy Body, too? A thousand grams every 6 months, instead of 10; no problem. That is well worth a Color Drop treatment. Whoever is behind the plot probably would have shown up and tried to get on your good side beforehand, and then you¡¯d just ¡®coincidentally¡¯ start making more adamantium due to whatever shit they told you, or whatever. And then they¡¯d sweep in and tell you how to make even more and they¡¯d turn you into an adamantium farm and¡­ and I¡¯m not sure what their goal was, or is. Maybe they just wanted an adamantium producer for the benefit of the world, but then Addavein happened and all the expected plots were ruined.

    ¡°Anyway.

    ¡°It¡¯s a plot,¡± Blackthorn said, ¡°Keep an eye on it.¡±

    Mark felt a certain kind of weight upon hearing all of that. A tension. He had no idea what to make of Blackthorn¡¯s words, but they seemed to be a reasonable extrapolation of circumstances¡­ Human experimentation was pretty much what had been done to Mark, anyway.

    But no one had shown up to take advantage of Mark... except for Blackthorn himself, right here and now¡­?

    Hmm.

    No.

    That¡¯s crazy. Blackthorn wasn¡¯t plotting around Mark except for the normal amount.

    Mark relaxed. Mark said, ¡°Thank you for the warning.¡±

    Blackthorn looked at Mark. He seemed questioning, in some sort of way. And then he nodded. He lifted a hand and a shiny black bag floated out of a pantry, near the kitchen. ¡°I¡¯d give you some metals, but I don¡¯t have them. I have this instead. Have fun!¡± He handed the bag over, saying, ¡°It was nice to meet you again, Mark. I have an open door policy to all superheros and supervillains to come on by when they want to get fucked, and get fucked up. I invite you over, whenever you want. The door is open!¡±

    Mark held the black bag and kinda froze, but a chuckle escaped him.

    Blackthorn grinned.

    ¡­ He was waiting for an answer.

    Mark said, ¡°No thank you.¡±

    Blackthorn smirked. ¡°Hey now! The last meeting went horribly, but this one went a lot better, and the next one will be even better. Just make sure that you have a good question to ask, and that you come with a kilo of adamantium.¡± He patted Mark on the shoulder. ¡°There¡¯s not much off the table when it comes to a trade like that.¡±

    Blackthorn turned and went into his house, toward the hallway where the other people in the back were making certain noises, all their vectors were tangled upon each other. The archmage¡¯s robe fell off, along with his boxers¡ª

    And that was all Mark needed to see.

    He got out of there.

    On the ride down the elevator, Mark thought a lot about what he had just learned.

    It wasn¡¯t until he was in his car that he looked inside the black bag.

    It was full of drugs, mostly pot-derived, though there was a small jar of white powder with a warning on it about consuming too much. Mark closed the bag, sat for a while, and then looked up at the tower. Was Blackthorn looking his way right now? Probably. The drugs were going in the can as soon as he got out of the archmage¡¯s presence. Maybe 20 miles away?

    Nah.

    He probably had far-sight magics.

    The drugs were still going in the can sooner, rather than later.

    Mark turned on the car and soon pulled out of the parking lot.

    - - - -

    Steve stood by the window, smoke drifting around him as he watched Mark drive away.

    Planty was there. Steve¡¯s demon was always there.

    She curled in the smoke, in the shadows just outside of sight, in the way light played upon the leaves of plants, and in the whorls of wood. When Steve was absolutely wasted, she was here, in the full flesh, and Steve liked it when she was here in the full flesh. But right now she was just in the smoke.

    And on Steve¡¯s flesh, like a gentle warmth. Like the smoke caressing his own body.

    She ran her smoky fingers through Blackthorn¡¯s hair and brushed under his robe, tangling her fingers in the fur of his chest. And then she was a flesh and blood woman, before becoming a wash of colors that only Steve could see, her voice a sultry whisper,

    ¡°I will try to protect you, but I can¡¯t protect you from Addavein, Love. Not if he gets serious.¡±

    Steve easily said, ¡°It¡¯s enough that you¡¯ll try.¡±

    ¡°Getting too involved with that boy will spell your doom and I¡¯m not ready to stop my vacation yet, so you must be careful.¡±

    Steve redirected the conversation, ¡°There¡¯s going to be a lot more opportunities for fun when we can pop back and forth between Daihoon and Earth without having to rip the Veil ourselves.¡± He caressed Planty¡¯s colors, smirking as he said, ¡°I hear the plays of Western Okuana are wondrous, and I¡¯ve never been there before.¡±

    It had been Planty who had told him about those plays.

    Planty grinned. With a trilling laugh, she asked, ¡°You wish to leave the house? The city?¡±

    Steve chuckled. ¡°Not too far, you know. I¡¯m not getting involved in any plots unless they are small.¡± And then he smirked, adding the words that he had shared and been shared by Planty at least once a month, ¡°You¡¯re on vacation, after all.¡±

    Planty turned into soft golden woods and clear water with green emeralds for eyes and rubies for lips. She became color as she moved to stand on Steve¡¯s other side, a playful finger or a warm hand never leaving his flesh, her voice a soft thing as she hummed, saying, ¡°We could get involved in a small plot¡­ if a really good one comes around. Something small. Since you¡¯re already breaking your son¡¯s decrees and gifting spellwork lessons to others once again¡­ Maybe it¡¯s time for some superheroes to expand their capabilities?¡± She waggled an eyebrow. ¡°We could set out some tomes and let some mischief commence?¡± She demurely added, ¡°Nothing to actually upset your son, of course. No Curtain Breaking.¡±

    Steve liked a little bit of good mischief. ¡°What spells were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°These ones,¡± Planty said, pulling leather-bound tomes of magic out of the air, making them real in that action. She floated them in front of Steve, asking, ¡°I could go deeper, but each of these would be beneficial for Memphi.¡±

    Twist The Veil.

    Atomic Knife.

    Dragonwreck.

    Steve looked at the three of them, and thought all of them too strong, but all of them were also too useful. ¡°You pick.¡±

    Twist the Veil and Dragonwreck vanished, which was for the best. Both of them were spells far beyond the level of most people, and would have long lasting complications upon the fabric of Memphi¡¯s society. Twist the Veil was going to be disseminated anyway, as these things often were, when one major magic went from being outlawed to regulated. They were planning on Memphi becoming a Twin City, like Tokyo, after all.

    Dragonwreck was a much simpler issue. It was simply too dangerous to put out there. It was putting a target on someone¡¯s back. The dragons didn¡¯t like mortals to have Dragonwreck. The dragons didn¡¯t like a lot of things, though, so fuck them.

    Still better to not have that plot happening.

    This happening with Mark and thus Addavein was going to take up enough of Steve¡¯s capacity to care as it was.

    The Book of Atomic Knife settled fully into reality, into Steve¡¯s hands.

    Planty said, ¡°There was this girl and her adopted father who tried to see you before Mark showed up. They had an appointment, but it didn¡¯t happen.¡±

    Planty implied that she wanted the girl to have it, but not directly.

    Steve knew enough to say, ¡°I¡¯ll hang on to it and see where it goes.¡±

    Planty grinned, and then she said, ¡°I do love small surprises.¡± And then she asked, ¡°Do you think Mark will tell people about crystal cultivation?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah. I didn¡¯t directly tell him not to¡­ Oh well. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Planty was a wash of watercolors in the air, and then she was back to being smoke, curling up from Steve¡¯s pipe.

    Steve stared out the window at the skyline of Enchanting, and of Memphi in the distance. With a bit of focus, he watched as Mark turned on to the street outside of his house, over in Shady Acres. He was almost home, but he had also dumped his goodie bag off in some trash somewhere, which was something of a disappointment. Oh well. Steve mentally marked down ¡®don¡¯t give drugs to Mark; he will waste them¡¯. It was a marking he needed to make for a lot of people, so Steve wasn¡¯t too offended.

    Soon, Mark turned onto the driveway of his house, passing through an anti-scrying barrier set up by Eliot Cybersong. The boy vanished beyond that obscuring. Steve could have penetrated those defenses and looked inside, all without alerting the Cybersong boy about the intrusion, but that was unnecessary.

    Steve went on with his day.

 115

    Mark lay in bed, scrolling through the internet, trying to corroborate Blackthorn¡¯s words through independent research. It was not going well. Quark wasn¡¯t having any more luck finding these things out than Mark had had.

    Quark¡¯s main housing and screen glowed silver on the desk, the readout saying, ¡®Research in progress.¡¯ It had been ¡®in progress¡¯ for the last hour. The most Quark had been able to find was a bunch of public-access forums where they spoke about magic and which were filled with theorists trying to make sense of the magic they saw out there. The site was called ¡®Armchair Mage¡¯, and it was the biggest resource Quark had been able to find, and it was also blacklisted by the Mage Guild. But Mark didn¡¯t care about the Mage Guild, so Mark had been scrolling down those forums for a while, finding everything that Quark had found for him, and then finding even more that probably wasn¡¯t true at all.

    ¡®Mana crystallization¡¯ was a known technique that went by a bunch of different names, but mostly there were a bunch of warnings not to attempt the magic outside of a school setting, because the most common side effect of attempting to hold more mana in the body than the body usually held was monsterization. There were warnings for spell creation itself, too. The most common side effect of badly-done magic was failure to cast a spell correctly and the spell would violently unravel inside of the astral body. This usually led toward internal injuries that cascaded externally.

    But there wasn¡¯t a whole lot on those forums.

    Mark had only really been able to find out that different people made different mana, and that the process of going through Tutorial with the System imposed structure on a person¡¯s astral body so that they could use that mana all the time in the form of a Power. Normal people, when they Awakened outside of the Tutorial, either through breaking the Curtain or other such means, usually ended up with a ¡®natural imposition¡¯ in the form of a Knack.

    Mark had also managed to corroborate that creating a new spell always took at least a year of careful study and personal crafting of one¡¯s own astral body into that new spell. These smaller-than-a-Power twistings, which is what spells truly were, could be undone and then redone into other forms of power, giving a mage a variety of skills available to them, depending on how fast they could twist and untwist themselves.

    Also, yeah, the side effects of improperly made ¡®Powers¡¯ were always the most dangerous parts of creating a new spell. Like, making a speedster spell would usually tear a person apart.

    As for how to actually make a spell? That wasn¡¯t on the forums at all. The mods crushed all sorts of talks about actual functional magic.

    That was all Mark had really understood after reading for a few hours.

    Honestly, Mark wondered if he should disregard everything he was reading and never look online for answers at all.

    One particular post was all a bunch of ranting in capital letters and smaller fonts about how there was an infinite number of Earths, but this slice of reality was locked away from all the other ones because the demons wanted a playpen for themselves, without the rest of infinity encroaching.

    ¡°The internet is full of liars,¡± Mark said to himself as he flipped to the next search.

    Eventually, Mark felt a vector enter his sensory range, entering from the front of the house. Soon, Mark heard the front door open and felt someone who had to be Isoko walk into the house¡ª

    Mark heard grocery bags crinkle and great weights settle down in the kitchen, so he got up and walked out to help put the groceries away.

    But then Mark entered the kitchen, and plans changed. Mark saw the platinum fading away from Isoko as she opened up some bags and Mark realized that he needed to tell her¡­ a lot.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Isoko said, grinning. ¡°You saw the archmage today, right? Got some questions answered?¡±

    Mark made a decision, and said, ¡°I got a lot of questions answered, yes. We barely talked about any of it, though. He made a declaration that there¡¯s a 20% chance that what Leash said is true, that separating a dragon into the person and the demon can be done, and that the elves and their resurrection magics exist, and¡­¡± And there was a lot more, but Mark cut himself off there.

    Isoko had frozen, her breath still as she looked at Mark, her eyes going wide.

    Mark realized something else about the talk that he hadn¡¯t realized until now. Mark added, ¡°And he stayed away from the topic of perma-killing demons. He steadfastly refused to interact with that question. And there was¡­ other stuff we talked about. He just told me about the resurrection and dragon-splitting possibilities. We didn¡¯t actually discuss it.¡±

    And then there was the other big issue of the day.

    Mark¡¯s adamantium secret.

    Mark had never told Isoko or Eliot about how he produced adamantium in his bones. He wasn¡¯t sure how to broach that talk, either, but he wasn¡¯t going to do it twice. If he decided to tell them, he¡¯d tell Isoko and Eliot together, when Eliot got back home later. Lola, David, and a few others at Citadel Freyala already knew that Mark was adamantium blooded, but whether they knew what that was, exactly, was an open question. Had Lola known what Mark was? The designation ¡®adamantium blooded¡¯? Maybe. So the secret was out.

    Maybe the secret should be out to his friends, too.

    But for now he watched Isoko, as Isoko broke her stare. She turned and regarded the groceries, and then she put her hands on them¡­ just holding them, not taking anything out or truly looking at what she was touching. Her vector was so far from this moment that she practically wasn¡¯t even here. She was thinking deeply.

    Mark began putting away the groceries and Isoko nodded a little, silently, before she went into the dining room and sat down at the table, still thinking.

    When the ice cream went into the fridge, Isoko stood up and started helping Mark put the rest of the groceries away¡ª

    ¡°A 20% possibility is enough for me to go to Endless Daihoon... You know. Eventually,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Even a 5% chance is enough if I can get Riku back. How about you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯d go on that low of a chance, too,¡± Mark said, as he put the chips into the pantry. Isoko had gotten all three of their favorite types of chips; cheddar for Mark, vinegar for Isoko, and barbecue for Eliot. Isoko cared, and it showed. She was a good friend. Mark added, ¡°And I¡¯d want to go with you.¡±

    Isoko breathed deep, and then she set down a bag of meat and turned and held Mark, hugging him. She pressed her face against Mark¡¯s chest, and Mark held her in turn. With his arms around the smaller woman, Isoko sobbed, just a little bit, and Mark held a little tighter, ignoring the tears in his own eyes.

    Several moments passed.

    And then Isoko chuckled, pulled back, and rapidly wiped away her tears even as she smiled brightly, saying, ¡°It¡¯s a completely crazy idea though, right? Endless Daihoon is impossibly large and filled with kaiju. Even if resurrection magics exist out there, then they¡¯re¡­ they¡¯re too far away, yeah?¡±

    Mark smiled softly. ¡°Yeah. But it¡¯s a nice dream, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Isoko chuckled again, then she resumed unpacking the groceries and putting them away. She was silent. Mark was silent, too, thinking of what it would mean to walk up the north pole, or the south pole, into the auroras that led to Endless Daihoon, and then keep going, instead of turning back around and exiting onto Daihoon. Even that small jaunt into the twists that led between worlds was fraught with danger. They didn¡¯t send convoys between worlds without those convoys being super fast and invisible the whole time, or absolutely packed with high-Powered people, able to defend the larger shipments. Actually going into Endless Daihoon was an ordeal.

    An ordeal that most people never survived.

    Soon the bags were unpacked and Isoko had popped some fried chicken into the oven to heat it up, while a big salad sat in the fridge. According to a text from Eliot he should be back in 10 minutes, just in time for dinner. The food would be hot by then.

    Isoko went into the living room and turned on Super News while she waited, and Mark joined her.

    Amid the background talk of heroes and villains and monsters from around the world, Isoko said, ¡°It¡¯s crazy to risk everything for a 5% shot at resurrection, right? Even if it worked, getting back home with Riku and your parents would be impossible. We¡¯d be kitted out to survive it all, and probably have spent the last 10 years¡­ doing something. So we would ¡ªideally¡ª be able to make it back. But they would be resurrected at their death, right? So 18 and dead in the Tutorial for Riku, and however old your parents were. And exactly as they were when they died.¡±

    Mark hadn¡¯t even thought about that.

    Was the dream dead on arrival?

    It was supposed to be impossible to traverse Endless Daihoon, and almost all the stories about the place corroborated that fact. Addavein had spoken about really exploring the place, now that he was a dragon and not an archmage, but he had admitted that even now he would still have trouble with the more dangerous parts of the place.

    What would a dragon consider dangerous?

    Something that would absolutely murder Mark and most humans, no doubt.

    After a silent minute, Mark said, ¡°It¡¯s probably not a reachable goal.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Isoko said, nodding. After a moment, she asked, ¡°Is it selfish to want to resurrect them? Heavens exist, right? Or at least that¡¯s what they tell us at church. We¡¯d be pulling them out of heaven.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Is there a way to contact them and ask if they want to be resurrected?¡±

    Isoko shook her head¡ª

    She paused.

    Isoko said, ¡°There are Spirit Callers. It¡¯s a Power that exists. It¡¯s a Soul Power¡­ Well. I mean. I¡¯ve never thought about calling up and asking¡­ I don¡¯t know enough about this topic at all, Mark. Except I do know that you can¡¯t even do that¡­ not really, anyway.¡± All of the fight seemed to go out of her. She sighed. She said nothing.

    Mark didn¡¯t know much about this topic, either. But he did know that ¡®Necromancer¡¯ was a rare, yet normal-enough Power for a person to Awaken in the Tutorial, and that souls did exist, and that you couldn¡¯t contact most souls at all because¡­ because reasons. Mark had no real idea why contact with the dead wasn¡¯t more talked about, or whatever, only that he didn¡¯t know about it at all, outside of stuff he had seen on shows and movies, of course. That stuff was all fantasy dressed up as reality, though, and firmly draped in Curtain Protocol.

    Mark said, ¡°Maybe they have movies and shows about soul magics on Daihoon. Maybe they just know about that stuff more over there, than over here. There has to be a reason why we don¡¯t contact the dead, looking to bring them back all the time, right? If resurrection magics exist in myth, then I am sure that people have tried to replicate that power in reality. I¡¯m sure we can find out more on Daihoon.¡±

    Isoko sat up straight, suddenly asking, ¡°Is that why Blackthorn told you it was a 20% chance of being real? Maybe he knows people who have tried to replicate resurrection magics? Maybe he knows all about all of that stuff.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Mark opened his mouth to say something, but a hovercar landed outside the house and a person stepped out of the vehicle. It was probably Eliot, since they walked right up to the house and opened the door. Mark said to Isoko, ¡°I have no idea, but now that Eliot is here, I¡¯d like to talk about¡­ something closer to now.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Oh. Right.¡±

    Eliot walked into the living room, asking, ¡°Something happen with Blackthorn?¡±

    Mark said to both of them, ¡°So I have a secret that I haven¡¯t shared yet¡­¡± Before the two of them could start thinking the worst, Mark continued, ¡°I make adamantium. Like¡­ I make it, somehow, and I learned how to make more of it today, thanks to Archmage Blackthorn. So I¡¯m gonna be making adamantium and telling the world that I get it from other sources, and I don¡¯t want to hide that secret from you two, because I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯ll be impossible to hide soon enough, as soon as I verify what Blackthorn told me and then I start making adamantium.

    ¡°I¡¯m not selling it, though.

    ¡°Soon as I can make enough of it for a weapon for you, Isoko, and for something for you, Eliot, I¡¯ll be making enough to use myself and then spending a kilo of it at a time to get comprehensive answers about any topic I want from Blackthorn. That was the main deal today. He wants adamantium and he¡¯s willing to break mage secrecy to secure a constant source of adamantium.¡± Mark added, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s some blackballing stuff that happens between the Mage Guild and mages who go outside of secrecy, but Blackthorn either doesn¡¯t care about that, or he¡¯s too influential to blackball. We didn¡¯t sign any contracts. Just a verbal agreement. The first thing he taught me was what I need to do to start making more adamantium.¡±

    As Mark spoke of producing adamantium Eliot¡¯s eyebrows went high and Isoko sat rigid, but then Mark kept talking and they relaxed, and now they were speechless, and sitting with Mark in the living room. Mark hadn¡¯t known how either of them would have reacted. People got weird around large sums of money, but more than that, people got weird about resources being hidden from them when they were on the same team. He had hoped for the best, though, and the best required honesty.

    So he had decided to tell them.

    Isoko instantly said, ¡°That can¡¯t be a good deal. It seems like he¡¯s taking advantage of you.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°There is no going rate for lessons from an archmage because there is no way to buy such a thing. It¡¯s literally priceless information. Adamantium is priced at like 40 million goldleaf a kilo, though. It used to be a lot higher.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°How much adamantium do you make, Mark? How fast?¡±

    Mark felt warm and good inside that this was their reaction. Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t know. I need to do some things, first, like corroborate the information he gave me. Might be a kilo every month.¡±

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Isoko whispered.

    Eliot told Mark, ¡°You could buy a real mage education. That would make the answered questions from Blackthorn a lot more valuable for you. Did he try to point you down that route? Does he want to make you an apprentice?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡ª You two can¡¯t tell anyone. You know that, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Isoko exclaimed.

    ¡°Never,¡± Eliot said¡ª He gasped. ¡°Oh my gods. You¡¯re an adamantium monster! Like they keep in those zoos!¡±

    Isoko¡¯s face contorted. ¡°The fuck, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot backpedaled, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that! I didn¡¯t know people could make adamantium! But they try to keep adamantium monsters alive if they could and they keep them in zoos. I saw pictures and I even made up some mock zoos because that¡¯s a thing that every city has if they can get it¡­¡± Eliot paused. He looked at Mark. ¡°It¡¯s usually only mithrilkinetics who make mithril, right?¡±

    Isoko paused. ¡°Mithrilkinetics can make mithril?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°That was one of the first things Addashield told me, when it turned out I could make adamantium. Mithrilkinetics usually make mithril. Adamantiumkinetics almost never make adamantium. I assume orichalcumkinetics can maybe¡­ make orichalcum? I¡¯m honestly not sure what orichalcum does, though. Never seen it and barely ever heard of it.¡±

    Isoko sat there, thinking.

    Eliot sounded like he was asking, ¡°Orichalcum is used in mage light enchantments? Artifact work?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I have no idea. Why bring up orichalcum?¡±

    Oh.

    Because orichalcum was part of the trifecta that Blackthorn had spoken about, when it came to that gold, platinum, and osmium stuff.

    Mark said, ¡°Maybe I wasn¡¯t supposed to talk about that part.¡±

    Isoko stood up, and said, ¡°I think dinner is ready, and then, yeah, I want an adamantium-edged sword. Eventually. We don¡¯t have to talk about where it comes from ever again, but thank you for trusting me with this secret.¡±

    Mark smiled and felt warm inside. Isoko was already in the kitchen pulling out the chicken from the oven. Mark stood and moved a bit slower than her.

    Eliot was saying, ¡°I don¡¯t need any adamantium¡­ Unless it actually counts as human-made? I never tried to Manipulate your adamantium, but I know from other experiments that I can¡¯t manipulate magical metals at all. Someone else needs to work with those and then slot them into the systems I make.¡±

    Mark handed Eliot a small cube of adamantium, saying, ¡°Test it out.¡±

    Eliot raised his eyebrows¡­ and then he held onto the cube. He stared at it, and then frowned, and handed it back, saying, ¡°Not happening¡ª That¡¯s Addavein¡¯s metal anyway, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well¡­¡± Mark slipped the adamantium back onto his wrist, saying, ¡°The stuff that Addavein gave me got mixed all up in my own adamantium, so yeah.¡±

    Isoko looked a little uncomfortable, and then she said, ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about big secrets too often, okay? People are listening all the time.¡±

    Eliot scoffed, ¡°I put up anti-scry wards!¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Can you keep out archmages already?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Probably not,¡± Eliot admitted.

    There was no more talk of adamantium over dinner, because Eliot had his own announcement.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a start date! The first week of January for final arrangements, and then we leave on the fifth!¡± Eliot said. ¡°What we all expected, you know.¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡± Isoko sat back in her chair. ¡°I¡¯m still a few tests out from getting my hover license.¡±

    ¡°You can still get those done,¡± Eliot said.

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m going to Tokyo for Christmas, though.¡±

    ¡°You can get those licenses done at the settlement,¡± Eliot elaborated.

    ¡°But what does it mean to start, though? What exactly?¡± Mark asked.

    Eliot nodded. ¡°It means the shipments of stuff from Memphi are getting loaded up at the settlement airfields starting on the first and getting sent off toward the South Pole on the fifth. I¡¯m leaving with that first flight, probably on the 5th of January. It¡¯s 20 days to fly to the settlement site and then probably 5 days to secure it so I can start building there while the settlers secure the location. If you guys need anything just let me know, okay? I plan on us being in one of the main buildings in the middle of it all. We¡¯re still going for that plan, right?¡±

    Isoko nodded, but her vector was elsewhere. She was thinking and making plans.

    Ahhh¡­ There¡¯s so much to do. Quark¡¯s AI housing, go meet Sally at her parent¡¯s new house after Christmas, and I need to get some metals, too¡­ Hmm.

    Mark asked, ¡°Can you get me 5 grams each of platinum, gold, and osmium, Eliot? And not ask questions about any of it, while knowing that it¡¯s probably a very big tell for that particular information to get out?¡±

    Eliot caught on fast. ¡°Oh shit? You need actual metals to grow adamantium?¡± He thought. He said, ¡°The osmium is tough.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I looked it up and I couldn¡¯t buy it anywhere.¡±

    Eliot frowned. He stressed, ¡°Nowhere?¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°That¡¯s a known quantity of metals, isn¡¯t it. Platinum and gold are easy enough to get, but osmium¡­ osmium is rare. And if all adamantium blooded need those three to grow¡­ Oh yeah. That¡¯s tracked.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Mithrilkinetics need to eat the same stuff to grow mithril, so it might not be that tracked.¡±

    Eliot shook his head. ¡°A trio of metals? Known to enable biometal growth? That is absolutely tracked by¡­ someone, for sure.¡± Eliot grinned. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. I can get it, and without tracking. Not an issue. 5 grams of each, you said?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was told.¡± Mark was a little surprised. ¡°Where can you get it?¡±

    ¡°The last resort is that I can get it from my family. We¡¯ve got weird resources and that includes metals of all kinds.¡± Eliot waved a hand. ¡°But I should be able to refine some of it from one of the testing mines I¡¯ve been working in, to see how far I have been able to stretch my powers. That¡¯ll be my first test, and I¡¯ll see if I can get it to you by tomorrow, along with the platinum and gold¡­ And that¡¯s it? 5 grams each?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°That¡¯s all I was told. Thank you.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°Have you tried taking in those metals from your surroundings, Mark? Breathe in the osmium, breathe out the¡­ carbon? You have lots of excess carbon.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I never tried?¡± Mark had a thought, then shook his head a little, saying, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t breathe out carbon. If it¡¯s just an intake of something small, then I can take it in, relax, and let the Union fade, without the backstroke.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°But what about¡ª¡±

    ¡°No no no no,¡± Eliot said, ¡°You two talked about Union all yesterday. Let¡¯s talk about Castellan!¡±

    Isoko clicked her tongue and said, ¡°Fine fine!¡± She said, ¡°So you¡¯re a miner, now? When did that happen?¡± She rolled her eyes and tried not to grin even as she made her voice drip with sarcasm, ¡°Are you filthy rich, yet?¡±

    Eliot grinned. ¡°I¡¯m working on it!¡± And then he began a story, ¡°A few weeks ago I began lessons on trench and city wall creation. It was part of the whole underground segment of the Hearthswellian construction lessons. Grandma always told me never to dig down too deep and to always over-engineer everything I build underground because collapsing rock walls are a Big Issue. She was, and continues to be, correct. Collapsing walls are horror stories of trapped people in holes in the ground, crushed to death and unable to move at all. Kaiju bunkers need to be built at least 5-times stronger than basic underground structures, and even something as small as a two-meter-deep, meter-wide hole is enough to trap and kill someone, if the walls collapse upon them...¡±

    Mark and Isoko listened to Eliot talk about building stuff and the horrors of bad construction over dinner, and it was nice. Oh yeah, it was horrible to hear about that stuff, but Eliot had grown up wanting to be a bard, in the classical, Daihoon-sense of the word. A historian tale-teller. Eliot clearly had training for that sort of thing. Telling a story in person, off the cuff, wasn¡¯t what he excelled at, since what he usually did was publish edited videos, but he was still good at it. He had a nice voice.

    Mark liked his friends a whole lot.

 116

    Mark sat cross-legged on a pillow, in an extra room to the side of the house. The sun was just rising over the horizon, and Mark was awake and ready to try some weird Unions.

    The first thing he did was open his blood to adamant and weakness, his heart beating strongly, black veins pulsing outward from his heart, across his chest and over his shoulders, down his biceps and around his forearms. Everywhere that his blood beat underneath his skin, it also broke off from his body, escaping into the air, black veins pulsing up from pale skin.

    Mark let his mind wander, as he looked at his skin.

    He used to be tanned from being outdoors and running and learning how to fight in class, but ever since he Awakened his skin had turned whiter. It was a common affliction for most people who Awakened as a Brawny of any sort. Tanning became impossible.

    But then again, Mark figured his skin was too white. He never imagined he was quite this pale, and he blamed Addavein. Mark¡¯s hair had turned absolutely pitch black, too, which was definitely related to some part of Mark¡¯s situation. He wasn¡¯t sure why he had physically changed so drastically, but it had happened¡­ Might have been because of the Color Drop treatment, too. Who knew!

    Mark liked the muscles and the power, though.

    Mark¡¯s heart continued to beat with adamant and weakness, which was not his usual Union. Usually he did resilience and weakness, so that he could judge the powers of others as strong, or weak. Some monsters could actually resist a normal Union of resilience and weakness, and when Mark came across those ones, he knew the foe he faced was truly dangerous. If Mark opened with adamant and weakness right away then he would overpower every single monster he ever encountered, and if he did that, then how was he supposed to learn how to gauge threats?

    So Mark stuck with resilience/weakness until he learned what he needed to learn from a monster, and then he usually killed it fast with a Union of adamant/weakness, and swipes of adamantium.

    Mark meandered through his meditation for a little while, and then he opened his eyes and watched the sunrise beyond the window. Snow lay upon the ground outside of the meditation room, and the morning was overcast. Grey, but not too oppressive. More snow would fall soon enough. Mark could barely see the sunrise beyond the bare trees, like gold glints hiding between shadows.

    And now Mark focused on going the distance.

    Mark pushed his Union as far as he could go, enmeshing with the fabric of the world. He felt the cold birds in the trees, where they tweeted tiny cries that curled into the cold like smoke from a pipe, fog heavy in the morning light. Squirrels cuddled inside burrows. Mice and rats huddled here and there. A raccoon family turned in for the morning.

    Eliot slept soundly in his room, while Isoko¡¯s vector began to stir, to wake.

    With his consciousness expanded over a hundred and fifty meters in every direction, Mark focused downward, into the ground, into the crust of the Earth where precious metals and all sorts of things lay there, dispersed. He had really liked the idea of pulling metals out of the ground, if he could, but Mark wasn¡¯t sure he could. Was there even gold down there, at all? Platinum? Osmium? There was a lot of gold in the ocean, so there had to be metals in the very land under the house. Trace metals? It would be enough if Mark could make it work.

    Perhaps it would never work.

    He was going to try, anyway.

    Mark breathed in platinum.

    Just one breath!

    And¡­ And¡­

    Mark looked around. He looked at his skin, at his body. Nothing looked different. Nothing felt different. Mark hadn¡¯t breathed out anything at all, and he was still holding his breath, so his Union felt kind of¡­ not much different at all, really.

    ¡­ Was his Union picking up anything at all? Maybe not.

    Better test it to make sure it was still working like it should.

    Mark breathed out a normal breath, then he breathed in good, holding his breath at the apex of his inhale.

    Instantly, he felt bloated. Just a little. It was a familiar bloat.

    When Mark breathed out normally, and did not actually breathe out anything ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®bad¡¯ at all, he held onto the good. Holding this sort of Union-load was akin to holding an astral weight. Mark breathed in ¡®good¡¯ a few more times, and breathed out normally, not exhaling bad at all; just exhaling air. He felt like he was holding in a fart, now, except he was holding it in with his entire body.

    Yeah.

    So that still worked.

    Mark could do one-sided Unions. It just hurt to do so.

    Mark exhaled the bad¡ª

    Like uncapping a boiling pot of water, filled with gloom, a minor blast of miasma billowed out of Mark¡¯s mouth and nose. With practiced threading, Mark filtered the bad into the world, beyond the scope of the small meditation room. Some of the miasma was too thick, and it filled the room with a bit of a stench. An exhaust system in the corner of the room helped to get rid of that stench. Fresh outside air flowed into the house, through some filters and some heating elements, and then entered the room, while exhaust fans kept the ¡®bad¡¯ air flowing right back out.

    Mark felt bloated as he continually exhaled, but soon the miasma coming out of him was practically nothing and easily dealt with. The stench vanished. His astral body was balanced once again.

    ¡°That¡¯s still working normally¡­¡± Mark mumbled.

    He switched to breathing in platinum.

    One breath inward, followed by a holding, and then an exhale of normal air.

    Mark felt no bloating at all on the first inward pull, nor on the second, third, or fourth. Mark ended up breathing in platinum for a full ten minutes and he felt no change at all, which was probably confirmation that he couldn¡¯t breathe in platinum, or any other weird sorts of metals.

    Just to be sure, though, Mark tried gold next, followed by osmium, and nothing happened. He felt no metaphysical weight, no bloating of his astral body at all.

    So this wasn¡¯t working, at all.

    Mark hummed and watched the sun rise above the treetops as he thought.

    ¡°Maybe¡­ Maybe I need to be less exact? A broader category?¡±

    ¡­ What would that even mean, though?

    ¡°Ah! I need to check and see if I can take in anything at all with this method.¡±

    Mark tried breathing in ¡®carbon¡¯, and five minutes later, he still felt fine. No bloating at all.

    ¡°So maybe this method is completely flawed, and it just doesn¡¯t work this way.¡±

    Maybe he couldn¡¯t target individual elements?

    Mark tried breathing in ¡®water¡¯ next, that worked just fine, though now he had to pee. Mark breathed out impurity and the pressure in his bladder vanished. Taking in water was a rather normal part of solving the issue of survival in the wilds, so that still worked fine. Mark had a good grasp of that sort of pulling-of-resources.

    Water was pretty special metaphysically, though, according to Lola. Water could be targeted like that. So could ¡®air¡¯ and ¡®heat¡¯ and even weirder things, like colors and gravity. Perhaps elemental metals simply could not be targeted? It was a question that Mark needed to ask Lola. He hadn¡¯t had one of those questions in a long time, but he usually found a way to go hang out with her once a week¡­

    He needed to visit her to talk about what he was doing right now, anyway.

    Mark thought about metals.

    Well¡­ The birth of adamantium occurred in Mark¡¯s blood, in his bone marrow, so maybe he needed to use Union of Blood¡­

    But that seemed like a good way to really hurt himself. Sure, his Power wouldn¡¯t hurt him, but depositing a bunch of platinum in his bones seemed like a good way to get heavy metal poisoning¡­ And yet, Mark could just purify that away, couldn¡¯t he? Yeah, he could.

    Mark pulsed his heart with platinum, taking in the metal¡ª

    Instantly a headache loomed and Mark rapidly switched to purity/impurity, like he had touched a stove and he needed to yank his hand away as fast as he could and run it under cold water. The headache faded, but it remained in the background until Mark switched to resilience/weakness.

    ¡°¡­ So that had worked?¡±

    He had a think.

    And then Mark did something reckless. He continued with this methodology He did a Union of Blood for gold¡ª

    The headache came on slower this time, but it was still there. Mark cut the Union and let the headache naturally fade¡­ And he wondered, as he let the headache fade on its own, if he had purified away all the platinum in his body when he had run his purity/impurity Union. And now he had no platinum.

    Mark did a single heartbeat of platinum and eased off before the headache could loom. The headache still loomed.

    ¡°Welp! Time for osmium, which is the only one that really matters¡­ maybe.¡±

    Mark beat his heart a few times, drawing osmium out of the ground. Or at least that was the idea. Nothing seemed to happen and Mark¡¯s headache was getting better and better, so was he really doing anything at all?

    Mark kept drawing in osmium until he actually started to feel bloated, which was strange. The headache was almost completely gone, too.

    ¡­ Maybe he had done it?

    Mark released his Union of Blood and waited for the bloating to go away, as his astral body released the tension it was holding. It was like Mark had thrown a bed sheet over a bed, trapping air in a bubble, and now the bubble was slowly deflating.

    ¡­ If it worked, it had worked, and that would be great.

    It seemed like it hadn¡¯t worked, though.

    With his sense of adamantium, Mark felt out his body, looking for the usual grains of dust that appeared now and again. He only had a few today. Mark breathed out adamantium and collected those few grains of dust to add them to his collection, and then he set his adamantium to the side. With a twist and a dropping, Mark released the black metal to clatter onto the floor, and now he was completely free of all adamantium.

    It was time to start stretching his Union again, to try this crystal cultivation thing.

    Mark beat his heart with adamant and weakness, drawing in strength while black veins threaded into the world, ridding Mark of every unwanted thing. His core felt warm like it usually did when he did this sort of meditation. Mark was primed to do some real meditation, to grow his adamantium¡­

    Maybe.

    Blackthorn had told Mark to focus on his goals and cycle through them, picking them up and putting them down, to prime his mana for purpose and then let it go. In this way, his mana, which was really adamantium, would condense inside of him. Mark imagined the whole process was sort of like making a supersaturated solution, and then tapping it to crystallize out a precipitate. Or something like that. Mark had passed the science courses like everyone else in high school, but only enough to complete the exams. He was too busy practicing for the Tutorial, and then everything went to shit with that coma, and Mark couldn¡¯t finish school. That was almost a year ago, by now¡­

    Mark looked out the window to the snow. He recalled his parents, and the last Christmas they had ever had together. Winters in Memphi had snow. Winters here were a lot different here than winters in Orange City, in the Floridas.

    Mark wanted to resurrect Mom and Dad. To bring them back.

    It was a nebulous, long-ranging goal.

    Mark couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom it as a real goal that was able to be pursued.

    Resurrection? Impossible.

    But Mark wanted to bring his parents back. Maybe then he wouldn¡¯t hate Addavein so much.

    Mark also wanted to kill the dragon, but in a way that didn¡¯t make any sense at all. Why was Mark still so mad at a dragon that wasn¡¯t even responsible for a demon¡¯s actions? It was an unhealthy emotional response, for sure. Tutorial training with Instructor Gravel back in high school had knocked a lot of sense into Mark, before all of his issues, and then Mark¡¯s time at Citadel had done even more for him, but Mark still¡­ did not like the dragon.

    And yet, Addavein had once spoken about going to Endless Daihoon, now that he actually could. Now that it wasn¡¯t a death sentence. Because that¡¯s what such a trip would have been for Addashield and most other people, too. Endless Daihoon was full of monsters of all sizes. Only a High Dragon could even hope to survive it, and maybe not even then.

    Super-kaiju ruled Endless Daihoon.

    Or at least that¡¯s what Mark had heard. Mark had no idea what ¡®super kaiju¡¯ actually were, only that he had heard the term in a few different places.

    Did Mark want to go with Addavein to Endless Daihoon?

    Yes.

    Probably.

    And wasn¡¯t that fucking weird.

    If his parents and everyone that Addashield had killed in his near-Fall were brought back to life, then would Mark have any reason to hate Addashield at all? Not really. If everyone lived again, then he could forgive the archmage and he might even enjoy being Addavein¡¯s ¡®brother¡¯.

    ¡­ Yeah.

    The more Mark thought of it, the more he realized that his nebulous plan for the future, for becoming a kaiju killer, a superhero, and to make a real home for himself in a city on Daihoon, the more he realized that a trip to Endless Daihoon with his talzarki, Addavein, was a good goal. One of the Big Goals, for sure.

    Mark smiled at that realization.

    ¡­ What was he going to tell the dragon when Addavein came back and started asking why Mark was talking about splitting him back into Addashield and Kanda.

    ¡­ Well. In that case, Mark would just tell the truth.

    ¡®Oh come off it. Of course tiny humans want to know if there¡¯s a way to fight a dragon without actually fighting a dragon. Addashield would have jumped at this whole vein of thought if he were still alive.¡¯

    ¡­ Mark would come up with something more poignant in the moment, he was sure.

    For now, Mark set aside that Big Goal and focused on the ¡®smaller¡¯ goals.

    He needed to get a housing for Quark. A livium core, for sure. That was going to run him 150k goldleaf, and it would be one of his bigger, first purchases when they got to the settlement.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    And then there were other artifacts he needed. A hoverbelt, Shaper training to allow him to surpass his astral/physical body limitations, learning how to do Unions that don¡¯t involve his personal self...

    Mark thought of his goals, picking them up and putting them down. He did that for a good half hour.

    He was sure he was doing this correctly, but no adamantium grew anywhere. Not out of his spine, like Addavein grew adamantium, or in his black hair, which was another option, or in his guts, or in his bones. Mark pulled back his Union and thought.

    Isoko opened the door to the room, saying, ¡°Any luck?¡±

    She had been awake for the last hour, working on hovercar homework and finishing with breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the air, along with the scent of rich coffee. Eliot was awake in his bed, doing something on his phone, perhaps. Probably checking his social media feeds, according to Mark¡¯s Unionsense. Mark was pretty sure that Isoko had waited till Mark stopped with his Union work to open the door, and that had been nice of her.

    Mark got up and shook his head, saying, ¡°No luck. I think the metal-grabbing didn¡¯t work¡­ or maybe I was doing something wrong. I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Well breakfast is ready. I¡¯ll go poke Eliot.¡±

    Mark smiled a little, reaching out to grab his adamantium and slip it back against his skin, as he put a shirt back on, saying, ¡°Thanks for making breakfast.¡±

    Isoko smirked and walked away, saying, ¡°Your turn to make dinner tonight!¡±

    ¡°Of course! So I was thinking I can make pizza again. I can do it better this time.¡±

    Isoko chuckled as she knocked on Eliot¡¯s bedroom door, saying, ¡°Breakfast, lazybones!¡±

    Eliot grumbled behind his door, but he started moving anyway¡ª

    Isoko told Mark, ¡°Your previous pizza was perfectly edible.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°It was burnt and shit and you know it.¡±

    ¡°Only burned in good ways! Charred pizza is a delicacy in some places, I¡¯m sure. Can you make it with corn this time, though?¡±

    Mark was aghast. ¡°Corn on pizza?¡±

    ¡°Of course! And potato wedges, too.¡±

    ¡°What!¡±

    The conversation meandered about pizza toppings around the world as the two of them ate breakfast in the kitchen. Eliot eventually joined them, asking about if Mark had managed to grow any adamantium yet.

    ¡°Not yet! I think I got the process figured out, if it does indeed work like Blackthorn said it worked, but my attempt at drawing metals out of the ground only left me with a headache.¡±

    Eliot nodded as he squirted hot sauce all over his eggs and toast, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll get some metals today. It¡¯ll be easy. No one will know.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Eliot.¡±

    ¡°No problem. But you¡¯re gonna tell that Sally girl about it eventually, right? If she¡¯s going to be joining us?¡±

    ¡°When is she getting in, anyway?¡± Isoko asked, and then she almost said something else, but she stopped.

    Mark wondered what Isoko had wanted to say, but he felt too great about finally seeing Sally again to ask Isoko what was up. Mark said, ¡°She¡¯s going to be visiting family over Christmas and I cannot wait for you two to meet her! We¡¯ve been friends since we were little kids¡ª¡±

    Mark and Isoko¡¯s phones blinked to life on the kitchen table. Isoko¡¯s phone flashed a warning that everyone focused on¡ª

    But Quark spoke up, announcing the full truth of the new emergency, ¡°An all-hands quest has been issued by Memphi and picked up by Slayer HQ, the Wall Guard, and many other local hunting agencies, for the Northeastern Memphi area. A Low Green monster has been identified that meets your selected criteria for kill credit toward advancement toward Green Slayer. Memphi is offering a hovercar ride out to the monster zone, which has now spread over 2 square kilometers. The monster is a duplicator cow that infects other monsters with its own astral body, and replicates, not unlike goblins. This is an all-kill quest. The duplicator cows have the same intelligence as a normal cow, but they have a penchant for blood. They infect their targets with a stab of their long tails...¡±

    What followed was a thorough description of the monsters¡¯ various physical appearance and capabilities, but Mark and Isoko had already shared a look and made a decision and promptly scarfed down whatever they could eat as fast as they could eat, to get ready to go out. Soon they rushed into their rooms to put on their gear, while Mark called out for Quark to accept the kill quest, and Eliot said something about cleaning up breakfast while they went on a hunt.

    ¡°You want to come?¡± Mark asked, though he already knew the answer.

    ¡°Nope!¡± Eliot said. ¡°I¡¯ve got plans today.¡±

    Mark had waited for Eliot to say ¡®no¡¯, but as soon as he heard that word he was racing out of the house, calling out behind him, ¡°I¡¯m gonna keep asking! You¡¯re gonna say yes someday!¡±

    Eliot chuckled.

    Ten minutes later a hovervan, flashing with yellow warning lights, dropped down onto the street to pick them up. Mark and Isoko hopped inside, joining four other people in a mad dash through the sky. Everyone in the vehicle had on armor, but none of them were ¡®random hunters¡¯, like Mark and Isoko. They were professionals. They were all part of the Wall Guard, with black and yellow ¡®M¡¯s painted on their uniform chestplates. They were all called ¡®the Guard¡¯, technically, but colloquially, they were¡ª

    ¡°A bunch of bees!¡± Mark said, smiling as he greeted them, his faceplate still lifted, showing off his face. With one hand on the overhead bar, Mark held his other hand forward to the lead guy, who was wearing a black and yellow shoulder cape. ¡°I¡¯m Mark.¡±

    ¡°Isoko,¡± Isoko said, as she shook the guy¡¯s hand, too. ¡°Union users.¡±

    The lead guy greeted them both, saying, ¡°The AI said you were paladin-adjacents, so you¡¯re both on backline healing/protecting duty. The snakes cannot be allowed to bite anyone.¡±

    ¡°Aye aye, sir!¡± Mark said, and Isoko copied.

    And then Isoko asked, ¡°So it¡¯s a serious case? We¡¯re not free-for-alling?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely no free-for-alling,¡± the leader said, and then his phone jangled, or something, because he looked away from Mark and Isoko and started reading his phone. He nodded to a woman in the group, almost as an afterthought, as he read the alert on his phone.

    The woman said, ¡°They were cows for eating but they mutated hard. We¡¯re not sure how they got so far outside of the gate, or any shit like that. The cows have chimeric tails that are snakes that bite and pass on the transformation, while the front end just eats everything it can eat. If you got long range Powers then you can throw them at the monsters, but we don¡¯t want anyone getting near them. I repeat: The cows¡¯ snake-tails have a range measured in 10 meters, and they bite everything all around them all the time, spreading the infection. It¡¯s an active contamination zone.¡±

    She seemed like she had to deal with mavericks a lot.

    ¡°I got long range offense,¡± Mark said. ¡°100 meters in every direction, 200 for distance. Shaper with decent movement.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m on heals.¡±

    The woman nodded and looked to Mark. ¡°What¡¯s your Power?¡±

    ¡°Offensive Union and metalshaper. Inquisitor-type in training¡ª¡± Which was only sort of true, but the shorthand worked well in most situations, ¡°¡ªVillain name: Blackvein.¡±

    The woman and two other guards were surprised by that, but it was hard to know which part surprised them the most. And then the woman said, ¡°Inquisitor! Okay! We don¡¯t know what happened out there but we don¡¯t suspect, uh, malfeasance¡ª¡± She rapidly moved on from the idea that humans were doing bad things to each other, adding, ¡°But if you see anything, then kindly report it, please.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°In training. I¡¯m not cleared for that sort of work yet. I can still drop monsters easily, though.¡±

    The bees all relaxed at that. The woman gave a nervous chuckle.

    The leader got off his phone as they crested the northern wall of Memphi. He looked to Mark, saying, ¡°The AI has labeled you as a party leader, so we¡¯re doing that.¡±

    The bees were surprised by Mark being ¡®casually¡¯ labeled as a leader in the field, but Mark wasn¡¯t. This had happened twice before. The bees rapidly fell in line, though, and this leader guy seemed to do the same. Mark wondered if they were all just brawnies. After asking them about their own capabilities, they all sounded off as brawnies. They all expected to be on the backline today, but they¡¯d be headed forward with Mark at the lead.

    Mark would lead them well.

    Mark happily said, ¡°Then let¡¯s get out there and kill some monsters!¡±

    And that was what they did.

    The bees didn¡¯t know Mark before that day, but they certainly made note of his name when they saw him ¡®fly¡¯ and send ¡®black lightning¡¯ into a herd of charging cows with snakes for tails, and drop them all, making them bleed out from the inside. The bees were on cleanup, right alongside Mark, who went around clipping off tails with swipes of metal to make killing the cows a whole lot safer. Mark couldn¡¯t drop the whole herd at once because a lot of people were out fighting the cows, and the infection was already a herd 5,000 strong, but it wasn¡¯t long till Mark¡¯s progress outstripped most everyone else¡¯s. Mark, Isoko, and the bees they picked up along the way, led the charge against the herd.

    Mark entered the flow, and everyone else did too, right alongside him. He did not lead so much with words, but instead with a Union of Action, joining with the others out there, fighting the good fight.

    Soon, the battlefield was dead and humanity stood triumphant, and Mark was talking with others who had been there, making connections and having people notice him for other reasons than what had just happened. More than one person called him ¡®dragon brother¡¯, and Mark kinda just smiled and nodded.

    With the battlefield under control, pyroshapers came out and started burning the bodies, making sure that whatever caused the dupli-cow infection could not restart from a corpse. Someone had identified that the meat was poison, though not before a few people had almost succumbed to a transformation. Some Hearthswellian paladins were on the case, though, and they cleared the infection better than anyone else could do so.

    And now Mark stood with Isoko, looking over the fires. He sniffed the air.

    Isoko said what he was thinking, ¡°It smells good.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°I can almost see wanting to eat some of it myself.¡±

    Isoko laughed.

    Mark grinned.

    Isoko asked, ¡°So what are your theories?¡±

    ¡°Thrashtalon mutated a cow and someone ate the cow and transformed out here. Or someone did something along some of those lines.¡±

    ¡°Going straight for the big explanation, huh?¡±

    ¡°What do you think happened?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking someone¡¯s Power got out of control. Maybe a husbandry Power? A witch Power.¡±

    Mark raised an eyebrow. He gazed out at the burning fields of corpses. ¡°¡­ I¡¯d prefer it to be that, but I think this was a Thrashtalon Wilding.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the snake tails,¡± Isoko said, nodding.

    ¡°The chimeric transformative venomous snake tails.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Isoko sniffed the air. ¡°I think the smell is too good, too. Like¡­ Someone was crafting something good to eat, and they wanted it to affect all of their cows and the magics got away from them.¡± She added, ¡°Magics can do some weird things.¡±

    ¡°I could see that.¡± Mark looked around at the groups of bees and hunters standing around, watching the forests and cows burn under the steady flow of fire from many, many pyromancers. ¡°They all look hungry, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Shit, Mark. I¡¯m hungry again, and I¡¯m pumping sustenance and deprivation right now to kill that hunger.¡±

    Mark admitted, ¡°Me, too.¡±

    Hours later, Mark and Isoko got home, along with a bunch of fresh groceries.

    Mark put some steaks into the fridge, smiling a little. He was going to cook them up for dinner, and it was going to be fantastic.

    ¡°Better than pizza,¡± Isoko said, nodding.

    ¡°Much better than pizza,¡± Mark agreed, adding, ¡°And I know how to cook a steak!¡±

    Isoko rolled her eyes, laughing.

    Later, as Mark was cooking the steaks, Eliot showed up with a small bag for Mark. Mark opened it up there in the kitchen and saw three smaller paper bags, each of them labeled. Platinum, osmium, and gold. 99.9% pure.

    ¡°You just walked around with those?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°I was circumspect!¡± Eliot said, scoffing.

    Mark was going to be circumspect and he was rather sure that Eliot had been, too, but the cat was already out of the bag as far as Mark was concerned. ¡°Thank you, Eliot! How difficult was it?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°No problem, and it was easy. I made a whole refinery today to push myself, to extract everything I could from the mining site, but what really did the deed was going to the Mississippi and setting up a filter system there. The whole thing gummed up with colloidal stuff like silica and iron. It was a lot easier to filter out of the Mississippi, though! We might be doing something with that on the Shine, over on Daihoon, in order to get metals and such. Aurora and Iliandra are in talks with the miner guys and the fishery guys right now. Whatever happens, they¡¯ll decide.¡± Eliot smiled. ¡°But that¡¯s for them to decide. So! Are you going to eat them?¡±

    Isoko asked Mark, ¡°Down them like pills, or something?¡±

    Mark held three small pellets in his hand. Two of them looked mostly the same, both platinum and osmium being white-silver in color, while the gold was quite beautiful, like a drop of sunshine. Mark put them back into the bag and into his pocket. ¡°I¡¯ll ask around about this a bit more before I do it. Thank you though, Eliot.¡±

    ¡°Anytime! So how was the cow hunt? I heard from Aurora that they thought Thrashtalon was involved.¡±

    Mark laughed once, then told Isoko, ¡°I was right!¡±

    Isoko waved a hand, saying, ¡°Just because he¡¯s the usual suspect when it comes to monster issues doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s always the one responsible. There was that series of explosions last month that turned out to be someone¡¯s Explosion Power detonating secondarily when they were upset. Despite the claims of his cult, Thrashtalon is not responsible for monsters themselves.¡±

    Mark smirked. ¡°It¡¯s Thrashtalon this time. I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    Isoko waved a hand. ¡°We¡¯ll probably never find out, anyway.¡±

 117

    Mark looked through the door of Lola¡¯s new office and saw Lola hanging paintings up on the walls. Her small library of non-fiction histories rested on her new bookshelves, while her desk itself was up against the other wall, and half of her office was a giant window with a fantastic view of snow-covered Memphi. They were on the second floor of a local branch of Collective Temple, north of Enchanting, the ¡®mage city¡¯ of Memphi.

    Lola was focused on her paintings. She had already hung up a view of the bay of Orange City, with its pillar wall, before Addavein had replaced a few central spires of the span with pillars carved in his own likeness. Another painting was a gold and blue landscape of the French countryside.

    Mark knocked on the open door, but it was just to be polite. Lola already knew that Mark was here. She had probably clocked him when he walked through the big entrance downstairs.

    ¡°Hello, Mark,¡± Lola said, smiling a little bit as she turned toward him, and then back to the painting of the bay. ¡°Do you think this one looks good here? I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°I think your whole office looks great.¡±

    Lola smiled a little, and then she turned professional. ¡°You¡¯re here to talk about whatever you learned with the archmage. Come on in and shut the door.¡±

    Mark entered, shut the door, and the words started pouring out. Lola asked clarifying questions every now and then, but mostly she let him get out everything he needed to get out. It took some time and Lola had to dismiss someone who knocked on her door halfway through Mark¡¯s words, but Mark eventually finished.

    After he was done, Lola said, ¡°I¡¯m glad you told your friends. I doubt Eliot was as circumspect as he imagined he was, but probably through no fault of his own. Osmium is not actually regulated at all, but it is tracked most heavily, because, as the archmage told you, that is one of the major materials for growing biometals.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°So you did know that it worked like this?¡±

    ¡°Yes, though I was hoping that wasn¡¯t what your conversation with Blackthorn would have been about, though it was one of the possibilities.¡±

    Mark suddenly felt¡­ weird. ¡°Were you ever going to tell me that I could get more adamantium on my own?¡±

    Lola arched an eyebrow. ¡°No. No one from the Church of Freyala would have told you.¡±

    Mark felt adrift. ¡°¡­ Why not?¡±

    ¡°We know a lot about what you might eventually be able to do, and producing adamantium was just one of those eventualities that you don¡¯t need to rush into as fast as you are rushing. More adamantium would have just made you a target, as you have already experienced once before.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    Lola nodded. Lola added, ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about any Color Drop plots, though. We do know who did your treatment, and they will not be an issue.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that. ¡°¡­ You were hiding this from me?¡±

    ¡°Among many other things, yes.¡±

    Mark extremely wasn¡¯t sure how he felt. Some combination of betrayal, but also comfort, and knowing that some people out there had his best interests in mind, but then again how could Mark know that he was being protected, or babied, unless he was told about that, and yet, Mark wasn¡¯t an Inquisitor, so of course they would keep important information away from him. Mark had kept himself separate from Freyala of his own volition, after all, and that meant that he was outside of the Collective, the loose association of Inquisitor-ranked paladins from every church and clergy that worked together to kill Fallen mages and demonic threats of all kinds, and who dealt with the worst of humanity, killing cultists of Thrashtalon and¡­ and all of that.

    Lola waited while Mark had a think.

    Mark eventually looked at Lola, and asked, ¡°If I were an Inquisitor, would you tell me about these sorts of things?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot to learn about magic and mages and demons and all the nuances of the War for Life. It takes time to learn those things, and you are not currently enrolled in any sort of formal education system. But before that time of learning, before schooling can happen, it takes a Calling to become a soldier in the War. Do you feel Called to rid the world of its problems, in ways that are too permanent to be called anything but murder?¡±

    Lola had always been way too solid in her expectations of Inquisitors and what it meant to be a hunter of demons. Here she was, talking about straight-up killing people. It always freaked Mark out. He still wasn¡¯t over killing that one woman, Mary Getty, the Mind Controller cultist of Thrashtalon who had tried to kill him first, and who had demonized herself in order to do it.

    Mark found himself faltering.

    ¡°No,¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m not Called to war against other people like that.¡±

    The War for Life Itself was not something Mark needed to step into. Not now, hopefully not ever.

    He just wanted to kill monsters.

    ¡°Then there will be a barrier to what I can tell you, and how we interact. I greatly care for you, Mark. You were harmed, and I harmed you, and I don¡¯t want to harm you ever again, and knowing something as¡­ as deep as how to induce a biometallic to make more biometal is one of the secrets that can harm a person. There used to be a great many menageries in the Old World. The dragons kept those people as pets and they had breeding programs, though they dressed their programs up with nicer words like ¡®bloodlines¡¯ and ¡®bloodline purity¡¯. Even in a lesser way, learning about the biometal-metals can lead to heavy metal poisoning in people who eat the things thinking they¡¯ll get rich if they can condense adamantium, or otherwise.¡± Lola said, ¡°There are horrors in every shadow of every nation of Daihoon and otherwise. Learning about them takes a decade and then a lifetime.¡±

    Mark decided right then and there that he didn¡¯t need that concern in his life, so he said, ¡°You know what? Let¡¯s just not talk about that sort of stuff. Thanks for looking out for me. I¡¯ll probably be selling the adamantium to Blackthorn for some good secrets. Got any suggestions?¡±

    ¡°How to kill demons permanently,¡± Lola said, without hesitation.

    Mark blinked. ¡°¡­ I kinda figured you would already know that? And I just haven¡¯t asked about it? It seemed like a smaller concern next to resurrection magics, elves on Endless Daihoon, and turning Addavein back into Addashield and Kanda?¡±

    Lola said, ¡°Demons are basically unkillable outside of certain scenarios. Killing a Fallen mage just sends the demon back to Arakino. There¡¯s only one scenario we really know kinda works, and that¡¯s when a demon becomes a dragon and we kill the dragon. Or at least that¡¯s what we thought, until Leash showed up with those words of his. Some people never believed that killing a dragon was the end for any demon at all, and those people are suddenly gaining a lot of voice in the Collective. Your talk with Leash revealed a few things that may or may not have been true.

    ¡°I will give you a basic primer on souls, now.¡±

    Mark breathed in sharply. He had spoken about souls and death and resurrection and necromancers when he told Lola about his talk with Blackthorn, but he had never expected to go further in that direction of talks with Lola. Mark just didn¡¯t know what he didn¡¯t know, though, and that included what sorts of topics were the truly interesting ones, to those in-the-know. Perma-killing demons was apparently a very interesting topic.

    ¡°First, regarding the existence of souls and soul manipulations. Some Powers can work with the dead, and people who die in service or devotion to Freyala move on to Freyala¡¯s heaven, so we know souls exist. But they don¡¯t come back from death, not ever. When a necromancer raises a body, if the body is intact enough, then the person inhabiting the body can gain some memories from the body, and superficially resemble the person whose body they now inhabit. That¡¯s called ghost-calling, Mark.

    ¡°Any soul work that works off of impressions left in the body or in the air is called ghost work, or ghost manipulation. Ghosts are figments in the weave of the world, left by the depth of souls that have passed on. They are not the real souls that used to live in real bodies.

    ¡°Some very strong, very niche Powers are able to call back the original soul into the body, but only in certain situations, like recent death. We¡¯re talking within a minute, Mark. It¡¯s more healing magics than soul magics at that point. Those same Powers act as necromantic Powers beyond that minute-long time window, which is not always one minute long. Sometimes it¡¯s 10 seconds, sometimes it¡¯s 10 minutes. There¡¯s leeway with that number, because souls are slippery.

    ¡°Sometimes you can catch a soul with a soul crystal, though. If you ever see someone with a soul crystal then you need to be wary, Mark. They¡¯re dangerous people, and they probably deserve death, because they were probably trafficking in people because soul crystals are used to kill a person and then harvest the soul and keep it intact until you can make a body for the person once again, making a slave or other sort of horror.¡±

    Mark felt his skin prickle.

    Lola continued, ¡°But anyway, this means that souls leave upon death, and go somewhere else. We believe that souls move on to Endless Daihoon when the body dies. And that¡¯s the basic truth of souls.¡±

    Mark felt a focus. ¡°Holy shit. Maybe some elves out there can resurrect people?¡±

    Lola nodded. ¡°Either a mythical people, yes, or something else that functions the same. That¡¯s probably where Blackthorn¡¯s 20% figure was coming from, though I have absolutely no idea how he arrived at that 20% figure. That seems like a wild guess to me.¡±

    Mark almost asked something else, but he forgot what he was going to ask when Lola continued¡ª

    ¡°So back to dragons and making people out of them. Dragons have souls, and dragons can be killed,¡± Lola said, ¡°Dragon souls are massive. They¡¯re huge things that can be captured by certain sized soul crystals, and then those artifacts can be used to power very large enchantments. It¡¯s soul magic, and it¡¯s dangerous. But, regarding dragons and demons...

    ¡°Killing a body that holds a demon just sends the demon on its way, back to the Demon City Arakino, to the Moon. Demon souls are a lot stronger than mortal souls, though. A lot stronger.

    ¡°Dragon souls are rather strong, too. Not as strong as a demon¡¯s, but similar in nature.

    ¡°We thought that killing a dragon ended the demon inside.

    ¡°But Leash revealed that he wanted to pull Addavein apart and kill Kanda himself.

    ¡°So it¡¯s highly possible that, if Addavein were to die, that his soul would flow along into Endless Daihoon, up to the Moon or wherever else it might go, or perhaps it could be summoned directly by the demons, and in such a case¡­ Well. The current, extremely unsettling theory passing around the Collective, is that perhaps all dragon souls get summoned to the Moon and the former demon gets extracted and the archmage is discarded. That¡¯s all theory, though. The demons aren¡¯t talking. Not like Leash spoke to you.

    ¡°So maybe, all the demons we¡¯ve ever ¡®killed¡¯ as dragons have never actually been killed at all.¡± Lola shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s a rather bleak way to view all the accomplishments we¡¯ve made in this War for Life, in transforming this world into one where humans are dominant. It is a theory that most people are not willing to accept.¡±

    That was big.

    Too big to really think about.

    Mark had his own issues, so he filed that information away for some other day¡­ And yet, he looked to Lola, and asked, ¡°Do you believe that this ¡®War for Life¡¯ is all a farce that the demons allow to continue for¡­ for some reason?¡±

    ¡°Because they enjoy tormenting people? Yes. That is the commonly accepted reasoning that this might be true,¡± Lola said, adding, ¡°And in that sort of way, yes. Yes, this fate of all dragons is believable.¡±

    Mark sat back in his chair.

    Lola added, ¡°But we still have a lot of hope, Mark. A demon tried to tempt you with big information and bigger conquests. With information we have never heard before, but perhaps some mages have heard before, and yet they just never shared this with anyone. The fact that Leash spoke about all of this so openly does give us good hope, though.

    ¡°This means they¡¯re scared.

    ¡°They¡¯re scared of Addavein becoming a true stabilizing force. With the power and history he has, Addavein could become a true dragon emperor. Addashield was one of the main forces that allowed Malaqua to become the Demon King and Jailer, after all, and that is only one of his major accomplishments. He was a true Hero of Humanity, even if he had a lot of dead innocents in his ledger. If that dragon comes out of this nap with the same attitude as his father, or even the attitude he had going into his nap, then humanity is on track to figuring out how to perma-kill demons and maybe tame Endless Daihoon, or at least allow us to navigate it with some modicum of true safety.¡±

    That was big, too.

    Mark made a decision, ¡°I¡¯m going to focus on making a life for myself, and none of these big issues. I hope that Addavein can be a real talzarki. That would be best for the world, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    Even as he said the words, he felt a weight fall off of his shoulders.

    He realized that he wanted Addavein to follow in his father¡¯s footsteps of becoming a Hero of Humanity. Which was a strange desire. A strange feeling.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Where had the need for revenge gone?

    Simply put, revenge paled in comparison to the life he wanted to live, and to the future that a truly good dragon emperor could create.

    Mark wanted family, friends, a home he made himself, to rescue people and kill monsters, and to live a life strongly, in the open. He wanted to be a superhero. He certainly didn¡¯t want to be a villain. Trying to kill the dragon or work against Addavein, except to ¡®keep him in line¡¯ (which seemed like a fool¡¯s task), would be the act of a villain. And sure, Mark was still a literal card-carrying villain, but that was just for show and to help Addavein fit into the role of ¡®hero¡¯¡­ Which was Mark being manipulated, yet again.

    And the thought of being manipulated threw water onto Mark¡¯s fire.

    The need for revenge smoldered.

    Mark scoffed. ¡°But I guess I¡¯m still a villain.¡±

    Lola gave a small smile. With utter politeness that Mark could only tell was teasing sarcasm because he knew Lola, Lola asked, ¡°Are you? You haven¡¯t even done your first show.¡±

    Mark had a surreal moment. And then he laughed. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy!¡±

    Lola chuckled in a small way. ¡°I¡¯m going to be front and center in the audience when you finally make your debut, though I imagine I¡¯d make way for your uncles, first.¡±

    ¡°They are so ready for me to do my first ¡®bank robbery¡¯, but I haven¡¯t even done a practice robbery from either side of the equation.¡± Mark grinned¡ª ¡°Oh!¡± He pulled out his gold, osmium, and platinum pellets from his pocket. They were in a small wrap of paper. ¡°I was going to take these if you corroborated Blackthorn¡¯s story, so¡­ Do you know the rate at which the cultivation will happen?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m honestly surprised that your Union of metals didn¡¯t work out, but it obviously didn¡¯t, otherwise you¡¯d feel it in your bones. Just take them orally, and expect a month¡¯s worth of growth in 12 hours. So maybe 2 grams per day? That¡¯s normal, unless you do the cultivation technique. I¡¯m not sure how fast you can go in that case. I¡¯m not a mage, so I don¡¯t have the privilege of knowing the exact numbers with regard to cultivation rates, and the Mage Guild doesn¡¯t like Inquisitors up in their business.¡±

    The Paladins and the much stronger Inquisitors had only been around for the last 75-ish years, ever since the Reveal and the creation of the New Pantheon. Before that, the Mage Guild did a lot of its own policing. With the rise of paladins empowered as the fists of the gods, the Mage Guild and the Inquisitors had a complicated relationship.

    Lola said, ¡°I do understand that it¡¯s slower for a biometalist to grow metal than it is for a mage to grow loose mana. A real mage usually has enough mana stored away to be able to switch modes at least twice a day. Sometimes three. That means replacing a set of three minor power sets with whole different sets, twice over.¡±

    ¡­ Huh.

    Mark had not known that.

    Mark nodded, downed the pellets and dry-swallowed them, and said, ¡°Well that¡¯s that.¡±

    Lola smiled a little. ¡°We should talk about whatever went wrong with you trying to draw in gold, too, and probably many, many times. Talking about that in the open is easy enough to write off as you trying to make money directly with your Power.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°A common occurrence.¡±

    ¡°The most common of all occurrences, truly. I cannot do this myself, but Freyala has given guidance in this arena. The issue there is that you needed to focus on depositing gold into something that was not yourself. A plant, for instance. Do you know why we call currency ¡®goldleaf¡¯?¡±

    Mark gasped. ¡°Oh shit! The goldleaf tree!¡±

    Mark saw everything lay out before him, instantly, with the mention of the goldleaf tree.

    Before the Reveal, Earth had used a fiat currency system that had hundreds of variations with every country having its own currency, or something like that. Daihoon was on goldleaf standard, though, meaning trees the sizes of mansions that produced normal enough green leaves, but when the trees were exposed to metals in the soil, they started depositing those metals into their leaves and then shedding those metal-imbued leaves. The leaves themselves were not actually gold, but they were gold-colored, and they did have small trace amounts of gold in them. When the leaves were dried out and pressed flat, they made a fantastic form of currency, since the leaves didn¡¯t break down.

    A ¡®goldleaf¡¯ wasn¡¯t a whole leaf, though. A single goldleaf was a 2 cm by 5 cm strip of leaf, and could be made by pressing pieces of leaves into the proper shape. Nowadays a ¡®goldleaf¡¯ was pretty much the same as a cred.

    The thing about goldleaf trees was that they produced ¡®goldleaf¡¯ at a rather normal rate.

    The trees had been used as a currency system by the nations of Daihoon for as long as anyone there could remember, and they were all heavily regulated and secured by the banks of Daihoon, which were all offshoots of the empires and the nobility of the bigger cities.

    After the Reveal, Earth ended up on the goldleaf standard, somehow. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how, exactly.

    Lola admitted, ¡°It would be impossible for you to actually get access to a goldleaf tree, of course, but you could have tried using a cleaner plant and including it in a Union of gold and sustenance on the intake, and deprivation on the exit. I¡¯m not sure how it would work, exactly, because this is not a normal application of Union, as gifted by Freyala, but we can discuss various theories and you can try them out. Perhaps you merely need to have a special version of ¡®sustenance/deprivation¡¯ that includes the idea of intaking the three metals. Those metals, after all, are a rather unique necessity of your specific biology, though we won¡¯t be speaking of that particular fact too loudly.¡± Lola added, ¡°Using that sort of ideology of ¡®sustenance¡¯, outside of yourself, only, would be considered an offensive use of Union, though, Mark. It would probably greatly hurt other people. Heavy metal poisoning and all that.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I hadn¡¯t considered that at all. Huh.¡±

    Lola grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s go grab a coffee, and talk about gold accumulation. Maybe even take an early lunch? I¡¯d love to talk to you about less-serious issues, like the settlement project. There¡¯s a nice French bakery and cafe across the street.¡±

    Mark readily agreed to lunch.

    The cafe was cozy, and talking with Lola was informative and also simply nice. Mark heard stories of Lola working as an Inquisitor to find mages that had taken demonic contracts in order to become fabulously wealthy, and how it always worked for a time, but then it always ended poorly. Lola was not shy about breezing past the final fates of those people she had needed to hunt down and end, nor was she shy about the ways in which those people wronged others.

    ¡°Demonic-backed financial crimes are not my department, of course,¡± Lola said, ¡°I¡¯m more in the educational sector for arcanaeum students. But making money is a not-surprising use of Powers and small magics that many people try at least once in their life. Most money-making Powers and magics make their money through the simple act of paid-for-labor, though. It¡¯s always easier to use your Powers to make money the legal way, than it is to make money directly¡­ Mostly.¡±

    Mark smiled as he said, ¡°I hear Eliot is pulling gold directly out of the Mississippi.¡±

    ¡°He would be the most pertinent example of a Talent that directly makes money, yes.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t going to become an Inquisitor, and Lola didn¡¯t push for it, either.

    By the time Mark got back home he already felt some new adamantium growing in his bones. It was a diffuse dust in his spine, and a fog inside his femurs and pelvis. Mark went to his meditation room and sat down to focus on his goals, to pick them up and put them down, and grow his adamantium. It was a weird sort of methodology, but Mark could sort of see the sense in it.

    ¡°I wonder if Mom or Dad did any ¡®crystal cultivation¡¯¡­¡±

    Probably not.

    They both had only attended a single year of arcanaeum. Crystal cultivation was year 2¡­

    Mark sighed as he slumped forward, bringing his knees up to his face and holding his legs.

    Resurrection might be possible.

    Resurrection wasn¡¯t going to happen for a long time, if at all.

    Resurrection was a big fucking deal. Too big. What would Mark look like if he managed to find that sort of magic in Endless Daihoon? How would he change along the path to the sort of power necessary to enter and survive that nightmare? What would his parents think, when he stood there and pulled them off of the ground, back to life? Would he recognize them?

    Would they recognize him?

    No. They would not recognize him.

    Mark had no idea who he would become as the years unfolded, but it would not be the same person today who was frightened about killing other people. When Mark had killed Mary Getty, he had made the decision to do it in a flashing instant, and it had been the right decision¡­ And Mark hated that it had been the right decision.

    Eventually, Mark uncurled from himself.

    Adamantium had been growing this entire time.

    Soon, Mark breathed the metal out, like expelling dust from his lungs. The powder instantly fell under his kinetic control.

    He got back to meditation.

    By the time Isoko and Eliot showed up for dinner Mark had managed to gather 75 new grams of adamantium, though he felt like he could do a lot more. The overall size of Mark¡¯s newest cube was only about 4 cubic centimeters, which was a little over a tenth of the size of his current reserves. Mark already felt elated. This was working. This was going to work very, very well.

    But first! While keeping those 75 grams separate from everything else in Mark¡¯s possession, Mark handed over the small cube to Eliot.

    ¡°Maybe you can Manipulate this one,¡± Mark said.

    Eliot stared at the metal in his hands, surprised and joyful, his face breaking into a wide smile as he said, ¡°Gods above! You actually managed it?¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows were high on her forehead as she said, ¡°I gotta say, I was not trusting Blackthorn¡­ But I guess Inquisitor Lola came through with some truths?¡±

    Eliot was too focused on the cube to participate in the conversation.

    Mark said, ¡°I think she knows more about magic than she thinks she knows. Every time I talk with her about something serious I learn something new¡­ I think I need to learn a lot more, though.¡±

    ¡°You thinking of doing some arcanaeum?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°I was always told that you could either have a Power through the Tutorial, or you could make your own magic in Arcanaeum. I think the truth is a lot more nuanced than that, and I think¡­ I don¡¯t want to do arcanaeum right now. But Eliot was right yesterday about how if I went to arcanaeum I could actually learn what questions to ask Blackthorn. That¡¯s a big draw. Bigger than I thought possible.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Isoko was quiet for a moment. ¡°I went with Eliot today to the Settlement Project. Did some research. I found out there¡¯s going to be a mini-arcanaeum at the settlement,¡± Isoko said, and Mark was already going wide-eyed before she even finished. ¡°I¡¯m gonna do that.¡±

    ¡°Oh my gods, how? Are you gonna sign up to be the underling of some¡­ some mage there? Or something?¡±

    That was the usual way mage training worked. You had to sign up under a mage or a training center and sign contracts about not spilling secrets to outsiders. Outsiders who were able to learn whatever they could were still outsiders, and they sometimes got blackballed by guilders, by people in the Mage Guild, so that those outsiders couldn¡¯t progress at all in their magic. But sometimes outsiders got ¡®accepted¡¯ by the Mage Guild, when they took down all of their outsider knowledge and swore secrecy. When that happened, they could get real training.

    It was a whole big thing.

    ¡°Is that what you were thinking of?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°I mean¡­ yeah, actually. I guess? I hadn¡¯t really thought about the specifics of it all, but¡­ yeah?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I attended a talk with the leader of the Mage Guild expansion for the Settlement Committee, Grand Mage Rekaro Solari. He¡¯s going to be running the mini-arcanaeum, for promising students. The whole talk was all about how, since we all signed up for 5 years minimum time there, that of course there would be mage training for people who were either starting off there, or continuing their education. Apparently there¡¯s a bunch of professors from arcanaeums all over Memphi coming over to Daihoon. And yeah, you have to do the secrecy clause stuff.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Can you actually learn new magic when you already have a Power?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s harder, for sure, but yes.¡±

    Mark hadn¡¯t expected that, but¡­ Yeah. Addashield was an adamantiumkinetic before he became an archmage.

    Eliot was still grappling with the cube of adamantium, his face tense with concentration, but the cube wasn¡¯t changing. Eliot glared at the cube, the air distorting around it in a weird way that sometimes happened when Eliot was truly focused, but then Eliot breathed out and relaxed. He sighed, and handed it over to Mark, asking, ¡°It¡¯s really made by you? No contamination at all?¡±

    Mark held the cube and transformed it into a ball, a spike, a star, and finally he put it with the rest of his adamantium, saying, ¡°Yeah. But I just mixed it with the rest of it. No undoing that! So! How do you two feel about adamantium daggers? Christmas is coming up!¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°No thanks! I can¡¯t carry it around. Too expensive.¡±

    ¡°None for me, either,¡± Eliot said

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ Aww! No! You can have one¡­ Right?¡± Neither of them changed their minds, so Mark asked, ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡± Eliot said. ¡°So let¡¯s talk plans for Christmas. You¡¯re still doing the trip to Tokyo, yeah Isoko?¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. He wanted to give his friends stuff, but they weren¡¯t having it, which was fine, he supposed.

    Isoko said, ¡°The hoverbus leaves tomorrow night. I¡¯ll be back before New Years¡­¡±

    Mark had plans for Christmas with his uncles and then visiting Sally after the holiday, since her whole family had moved here already. He said as much while he started making dough for a pizza dinner.

    Dinner was great, with talks of plans for the holidays and what came later.

    Mark didn¡¯t bring up the knives again, but maybe a nice mithril knife would be more realistic? Accepted, even? More common, too. Everyone had one of those if they could afford one, and Mark was pretty sure that neither Eliot or Isoko had gotten one, yet. They were like 500 goldleaf, or something close to there. Mark could easily afford that and it wouldn¡¯t break any banks at all.

    Yes.

    Knives for Christmas. He would go out and get them tomorrow, and then inlay them with some adamantium. Just a little bit! Probably jump the price up into the tens of thousands, but that level of cost was pretty normal for a person at their power level to wear in a casual setting. They were all hunters, after all.

    Mark decided he¡¯d get one for Sally, too, even if she probably already had one. She had been on Daihoon for over half a year already. Mark hadn¡¯t seen his best friend in person since before his coma, but they had talked a bunch. He was excited to see her.

    Dinner was soon over.

    Mark had somehow created another 10 grams of adamantium in his bones before bed.

    When he woke up the next morning, he had somehow grown 19 grams of adamantium in his sleep.

    ¡°¡­ ohhh boy,¡± Mark muttered to himself. ¡°Fast rate, huh?¡±

    Another thought occurred.

    ¡°I¡¯m never going to be able to hide that I can do this. Not for very long.¡±

    A pause.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll still try to be circumspect.¡±

    He could blame his ¡®brother¡¯ for the extra metal showing up all the time. That would work, until it didn¡¯t.

 118

    A great black orb rested upon the bottom of a lake, like a pebble in a pond, located between mountains that were ten times the size of the lake. The mountains curled overhead and the sky was rainbow fabric. The sun was somewhere in the sky, sitting right beside the moon.

    The black orb rocked back and forth, like something rolling within a soft shell, the black distending just a bit here and there. That arc of black looked almost like a tail slithering through the dark. Something like the sails of a ship pressed out here and there.

    A snout nipped at the interior of the shell.

    The shell broke and reformed into the spikes of a dragon. Ten thousand small monsters, each the size of one of the dragon¡¯s claws, darted away from the darkness, from the vast release of air that bubbled upward. The dragon looked small compared to the lake because he was small compared to the lake.

    The dragon was a kaiju. The lake was the size of the entire North American continent.

    The dragon shook itself off, breathing in the water and snorting out light¡ª

    The dragon paused.

    The dragon looked at itself.

    ¡°Oh fuck, what did I do?¡±

    The dragon looked outward.

    ¡°Oh fuck. I¡¯m a dragon.¡±

    Sloane Addashield shook his head¡ª

    And the dragon was awake. And maybe Sloane wasn''t real anymore.

    Addavein flashed his wings out, chuckling like an underwater earthquake. He had still been asleep, dreaming he was a human, but he wasn¡¯t a human at all. As Addavein floated up out of the waters of the lake, he wondered what had happened while he was asleep.

    Perhaps Mark was still alive! That would be nice.

    No big deal if he wasn¡¯t, but hopefully Mark was still among the living. And if he wasn¡¯t¡­ Well.

    Addashield had already planned to truly explore Endless Daihoon for a bunch of magics that he had never managed to find in life, and he couldn¡¯t do that alone. If Mark was dead, then he could leave to search for his brother, and when he returned with Mark and thousands of other people in tow ¡ªall the ones he killed over all of his long life and even during his near-Fall¡ª then there would be no one who could have called him a stain upon humanity. Addashield could clear his entire name, and¡ªReading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Addashield gasped.

    He could bring back Yunthal Brightwind, too. His true talzarki, from when he was a kid and he had come out of the Thresher and gotten Kanda, right alongside Yunthal, who acquired Adank, the both of them ascending to archmages. It was the perfect plan. He could get back everything.

    Of course, there would be rashes of copycats trying to become a dragon like him, but Addashield could...

    Wait.

    Addashield?

    He was calling himself ¡®Addashield¡¯, wasn¡¯t he.

    Addashield blinked his large draconic eyes, and swam through the waters with wings held close and his tail swishing particularly hard, propelling him forward. He looked at himself again, and he knew his name once again.

    Addavein shook his head. He was Addavein. Not Addashield.

    But¡­

    Was he?

    Perhaps it was getting harder and harder to pretend he was Addavein, when he remembered nothing of Kanda¡¯s life at all. Now, in the wakefulness of a fresh sleep, Addavein recognized that he did not have any of Kanda¡¯s memories at all. Not really. Vague impressions did not count. He was Addashield in all but form...

    Sloane Addashield, as a dragon, maybe, rose out of the waters of some random river in Endless Daihoon, and turned his flight toward the human lands, once again.

    He would be able to pretend he wasn¡¯t Sloane after a few weeks of being awake¡­ Probably. If he pretended well enough, it would become the truth, and Sloane could avoid thinking about all of the horrible things he had done to survive.

    ¡­ Maybe the elves had some body transformation magics. Something that would allow Sloane to regain a human form, for at least a short while. The ancient dragons, the ones from history that seemed more myth than real, in that ancient world that had once been whole and unbroken, before the Magefalls that caused Daihoon to become little more than scattered empires and hovels in the ground, those dragons were supposed to be able to transform into humans for short times. Not a single, true High Dragon like Addavein, was able to become small. Only the malformed dragons, like the Fates and the Guardians, were small things, and they had always been small things. Addavein wasn¡¯t a malformed dragon, though. He was power incarnate.

    Power incarnate had a way of getting murdered when put into smaller boxes, though, which is why that ancient magic had been lost. Or at least that¡¯s how the story went.

    Addavein would have to go exploring to find out the truth, and it would be nice to have some partners to explore with...

    Sloane missed Yunthal. His old friend, born alongside him in the orphanage, and raised with Kanda''s rival demon inside of himself, both of them had been archmages making Daihoon live for a long time. Yunthal had mostly retired a long time ago, but... But then Sloane had killed him, and Yunthal had allowed himself to be killed by Sloane, so that Kanda didn''t get Sloane''s body.

    ... Addavein left that behind, though. That was Sloane''s life. Not his.

    ... Right?

 119

    Christmas Day at his uncles¡¯ house was a magical affair.

    It was the worst Christmas Mark had ever had, and yet it was one of the best. It all passed in a blur for Mark, with too many small and large emotions and feelings of loss and love and new futures yet to be realized. But he was still present. He was still there.

    Alexandro loved the holiday and had decorated the whole big house in every way it could be decorated. The base of the 3 story mansion was the same black and white marble minimalist extravagance as always, but the carpets were red and green, sparkly tinsel and garlands hung on archways, and three different giant Christmas trees grew here and there both inside the house, and outside in the main front yard. The whole place, but the trees especially, were decorated with mage lights that sparkled. Shiny orbs hovered and glittered, and the air smelled of cinnamon and gingerbread.

    Snow layered the land outside, while a big fire bloomed in the main fireplace.

    Alexandro wore a red and green sweater with lights sewn into the fabric while Gabriel opted for red and white with reindeer made in puffy fuzz. They had a sweater made specially for Mark that was all white and green and not crazy-holiday at all, and one of the most comfortable things that Mark had ever worn. Hot chocolate flowed and Inquisitor Willow and the other guards stationed at the house were invited for lunch, which happened at 2:00pm, and which included way too much food for any 20 people, but there were only 6 people here. Soon, the leftovers got divided and packed away. Paladin Wendy was the first to knock off for the evening. Mark found out that Wendy always got sleepy after big dinners.

    Mark¡¯s uncles and their guards were close as family friends, so they knew things like that about each other. Dad had been similarly close with Trace and Devon, but at Mark¡¯s first thought of the boat guys, Mark remembered how none of them had returned any of his phone calls or letters. They were alive, but they didn¡¯t want anything to do with Mark at all.

    Soon, the other paladins took their leave, too, and then it was just Mark, Uncle Alexandro, and Uncle Gabriel.

    And then it was time for presents!

    Just small ones. Mark had already told his uncles he didn¡¯t want anything, but they got him stuff anyway. Armor, mostly. Or rather, a subscription to armor. Mark had stabilized at 6¡¯6¡±, 280-ish pounds, and he had a preset order on webweave underarmor that fit him well, and so Alexandro and Gabriel had bought Mark three new sets of that, and renewed his subscription to replace his armor pieces when they got damaged and needed replacing. It was good armor; tier 3 ceramic stuff that was painted black and which could be replaced when it inevitably broke, instead of letting Mark be broken instead. It was 10k a month, though, and Mark was riding the line where he¡¯d need to up his plan or take less trips into the wilds. It was still, by far, the cheapest option as far as ¡®good armor¡¯ went.

    ¡°You need more actual clothes too, Mark!¡± Alexandro said, smiling. ¡°But a young man should pick out his own actual clothes. So here¡¯s a bunch of gift cards.¡± He handed Mark an envelope stuffed with plastic cards, saying, ¡°It¡¯s 50k, so go wild! But not too wild.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°I can¡¯t accept tha¡ª¡±

    ¡°The house is already yours and that was 1.2 million,¡± Alexandro said, his voice strong, as though he had prepared against Mark trying to deny the gift. ¡°And these cards aren¡¯t even money! They¡¯re places where you should go buy your own clothes! So go buy clothes.¡±

    Gabriel handed over a single piece of paper, saying, ¡°Here¡¯s a bunch of other places that you should go shopping sometime, too, Mark.¡±

    Mark chuckled, feeling all warm and wonderful inside as he took the list, saying, ¡°Thank you both, so much.¡± And then Mark, uh, wondered if his own gift was good enough. But he was here, and it was Christmas, so he brought out his gift, saying, ¡°And I got you these!¡±

    Mark had gotten both of them mithril knives that he had inscribed with his own adamantium.

    He had gotten several mithril knives, actually. One for each of the important people in his life. All of them were high-quality ¡®smallknives¡¯, according to how they were called on Daihoon, each of them costing 700 goldleaf, and each of them only having a small part of them as actual mithril. They were basically switchblades, but with whorls and leaves and feathers on the grip.

    Mark had spent some extra money and lots of time on spare mithril to figure out how to join adamantium to mithril, but he gave up giving these knives adamantium edges, because getting the edge right was impossible without actual forging practices. The mithril just didn¡¯t join to the adamantium, or maybe it was the other way around. Mark wasn¡¯t sure. But Mark could spare an allotted 10 grams of adamantium per knife to simply inscribe into the outlines of the metal handles. So that is what he had done.

    Mark handed a knife to each of Alexandro and Gabriel, saying, ¡°Thank you so much for being my uncles.¡±

    Alexandro chuckled as he held his knife, and then he wiped away a tear and hugged Mark, saying, ¡°I think you outspent me, Mark. I need to get you something better.¡±

    Gabriel had a serious look to him as he held his knife and asked, ¡°You didn¡¯t give up your weaponry to make these, did you?¡±

    Mark smiled and laughed as he hugged Gabriel in turn, saying, ¡°I certainly won¡¯t be doing it every year!¡±

    But he could give away knives like that every day, if he wanted. He currently had 1,237 grams of adamantium to his name. He could easily meditate and make 120 grams of adamantium in four hours, or he could just do nothing all day long and make 25 grams per day.

    Maybe, one day, Mark could even make an entire armor set out of adamantium! That¡¯d be nice. He could certainly make an armored box for Quark to live inside, though, until he could afford a proper AI housing.

    Mark didn¡¯t tell them about any of that, though.

    ¡­ He wondered if he should?

    Maybe¡­ Maybe later.

    Gabriel let it go as he hugged Mark, saying, ¡°Okay, then¡­ if you¡¯re sure. This is¡­ This is a disastrous waste of money but that¡¯s fine.¡± He asked, ¡°You didn¡¯t weaken yourself for us, did you?¡±

    ¡°I want you to have them, Uncle. Uncles.¡±

    Alexandro smiled.

    Gabriel relented about the finances.

    Mark felt loved.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    It was nice.

    Soon, Gabriel and Alexandro were on the couch, under a blanket, and Mark was on the big side seat to the side of them, sitting in front of the screen, all of them with sodas and big bowls of cheesy popcorn. It was exactly what Mom and Dad and Grandpa used to do every Christmas, and Mark struggled not to cry. He knew that Gabriel saw, but Gabriel just smiled a little, knowing that Mark just wanted to be alone with this particular emotion. Alexandro was cheerful and happy as he watched the movie.

    Mark just started bawling and the movie stopped, but Mark stopped crying soon enough while Alexandro fussed and Gabriel quietly talked to him and soon Mark was stable again, though lots of ¡®Thanks¡¯ and ¡®I¡¯m fine, really¡¯s and ¡®I miss them, too¡¯s had happened somewhere in all of that.

    They got back to the movie.

    The movie was one of those very same old movies that Mark, Mom, Dad, and Grandpa used to watch on Christmas. An old Christmas classic today! Miracles on Fifth Avenue. Mark had seen it probably a dozen times or more, but he was happy to see it a thirteenth time. It was about some heroes who braved the wilds to get back to New York, under the floods and the devastation. They had to retrieve a treasure before some other people could, though they didn¡¯t know what the treasure truly was until near the end. The movie itself was a shoot-em-up action movie, with both sides fighting over pieces of a puzzle and against the monsters in the flooded city, with the climax of the film having both sides put aside their differences and unite the puzzle and use the treasure to kill a kaiju instead of control the kaiju. That was the trick of the treasure. There was some stuff about natives versus invaders and Daihoonians versus Earthlings, and people going between cultures, but that was just background.

    It was a great movie.

    But all the while, Mark felt like he wasn¡¯t being truly honest with his uncles.

    At the end of the movie, Mark told Alexandro and Gabriel that he was adamantium blooded, and what that meant for the knives.

    The air seemed to chill after Mark told them how he could just make millions of dollars per day, just sitting on his ass. Gabriel started asking questions that Mark answered, and the conversation got even more concerning, and deep. Alexandro shuddered a few times, and Gabriel had some harsh truths.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of giving one of those knives to Sally, aren¡¯t you? Well you shouldn¡¯t.¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°This whole truth of my situation is going to come out sooner or later. I want to give Sally something that means something. I want her to know I can trust her.¡±

    Gabriel nodded a little bit, but he was just waiting for Mark to finish before he said, ¡°And you giving her a knife like this does mean something. It means you can¡¯t keep a secret and you¡¯re too honest for your own good and I¡¯m not even talking about Sally being untrustworthy, Mark. I¡¯m sure Sally is trustworthy.¡± He held up the knife. ¡°But the 10 grams of adamantium in this knife is over a quarter of a million goldleaf.¡±

    ¡­ Yeah, it was a lot of money. Mark knew that. Mark was already apprehensive about telling Sally, but he was going to do it anyway. Sally was his best friend. They told each other everything! He planned on partying with Sally on monster fights too, because he wanted to ask her to join his team, and she needed to know about what Mark could do, if for no other reason than to give her a good estimate of the danger of being around Mark in the first place¡­

    Which was already freaking him out.

    Mark had a target on his back, and it only got bigger with everything Mark discovered about himself, and the world.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see the issue with telling Sally,¡± Mark said, absolutely lying.

    Gabriel looked at Mark, some words dying in his throat.

    Alexandro stepped in, putting a hand on Gabriel¡¯s shoulder, gently saying, ¡°He can do what he wants.¡± Alexandro told Mark, ¡°I sit on my ass and make millions per day, too, but not nearly as much as you. You should consider the List¡­ But you¡¯re probably already on it.¡±

    Mark was taken aback. ¡°People besides True Healers can go on the List?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rare, but yes.¡±

    Gabriel rumbled with a frown, but he said nothing.

    Gabriel wanted to say a lot about a lot. He was an accountant. He dealt with money all the time. But instead of saying anything else, he took a step back, and said, ¡°Sorry. I overreacted. Alexandro tries to give money away all the time and¡­ And this is clearly different from that¡­ You know your friend better than us, too, so¡­ I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Mark said, though he wasn¡¯t sure what he was thankful for.

    The night moved on, and Mark eventually hugged his uncles again, one last time for the day. The hug lasted a while, but at least Mark didn¡¯t cry this time.

    Soon, Mark grabbed his own portion of leftovers and hiked through the snow, back to the house on the other side of the bare forest, away from the big mansion with the bright lights and family and decorations. The night was deep, and the sky was clear. The moon had been full a few days ago, but it was waning now. The golden Demon City of Arakino shimmered in the sunless side of the moon, like gold inlay; like golden cracks and whorls in the black.

    Mark got home and put tomorrow¡¯s dinner away in the fridge and then he thought of Mom and Dad, and what if Sally wasn¡¯t Sally anymore, or at least not like she had been, and if Eliot and Isoko were using him, too, and if he was too rich and he was going to get used by everyone, and then he took out the five other knives he had inscribed and wondered if he should just destroy them and not give them out at all. Was giving money to friends a problem? Mark fully expected them to use these knives to pay for something good. Or maybe they would keep them! Who knew!

    Who knew anything at all!

    Emotions came like rain, and Mark ended up curled into a ball on his bed, wrapped up in blankets and feeling horrible, crying his eyes out because Mom and Dad weren¡¯t here.

    He didn¡¯t remember falling asleep, but he woke up the next day to the sunshine and fresh snow, and he couldn¡¯t cry at all anymore. He tried to cry. Mom and Dad deserved more tears. But Mark couldn¡¯t cry anymore. Did that make him a horrible person?

    It probably did¡ª

    An alert came through on the monster alert system, and Quark started reading off about whatever monster was out there, tearing up some place beyond the wall.

    ¡°Oh thank the gods,¡± Mark said, happy to ignore his emotions for another several hours.

    He was going to meet Sally tonight, and Mark tried not to be too nervous about it.

 120

    Mark sat on the big log beside the fire pit in the open behind the Wuthers¡¯ household.

    Coming here had not been a mistake. But being inside of that house was¡­ an ordeal. So Mark was out here right now. Most of the people had been outside for most of the evening, but it was getting late, now.

    The fire was low, but it had been brightly burning when Mark had first arrived. It still kept the snow away, but the snow was winning the war against the fire, and when night finally set, Mark expected the ashes to be wet and buried under inches of ice. Right now, the snow just drifted lazily through the air, outside of the heat, as though it was scared to get closer.

    Mark could relate.

    The house, sitting over there, was filled with people, from Sally¡¯s dad and mom and her two aunts on her father¡¯s side, including a grandma and four other adults and about ten children that Mark did not know the names of at all. Cousins. A lot of cousins. 26 people in total. He barely knew the relations between them all, but he had seen the sleeping bags in the house, and the air mattresses, and he knew that most of those people in that house today were actually living there. A lot of people had evacuated from Orange City, and that included all of Sally¡¯s family. They were still working out the kinks of living arrangements, but there were money problems and transfer problems and all sorts of problems.

    Mark only really knew Mister Jim Wuthers and Missus Samantha Wuthers; Sally¡¯s father and mother.

    And he knew Sally.

    Sally had changed.

    Sally smiled as she thonked down onto the log beside him, grinning widely, smacking him lightly on the shoulder, saying, ¡°Thanks for the knife, mister rich man.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°You can sell it if you need to, but I can¡¯t imagine why you would. You¡¯re a big time hunter now, just like me.¡±

    ¡°Bit bigger than you, I should say,¡± Sally said, with a wink.

    Sally was 8 feet tall now, and she must have weighed 500 pounds, all muscle. That was her Giant¡¯s Strength, for sure. Her golden hair was just as brilliant as ever, though she was wearing it in braids these days because that kept it out of the way. She looked like a bodybuilder who did super modeling on the side.

    She was just as easy to get along with as she always had been.

    The moment Mark had stepped onto the property two hours ago, he had been worried that Sally would have been a different person, because Mark was a different person. But so far, everything was normal, even though everything had changed in every possible way for both of them.

    ¡°Not too much bigger,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°More than enough,¡± Sally said, chuckling. And then her smile was a little strained. She lost her grin, and softly said, ¡°Sorry about Aunt Penelope. She¡­ she did not take the move well. I think she hates Addavein just as much as you do, but she can¡¯t¡­¡±

    Sally went quiet.

    Ah, yes; Sally¡¯s aunt who owned the house here.

    Aunt Penelope had acted nice for the last hour when Mister Wuthers had been grilling, but when they started actually eating the dinner, she had started in on certain topics. Mark barely recalled what she had said, only that it had been pointed, in the way that people could be pointed sometimes, driving at a goal but not willing to come right out and say it, lest they disturb the peace too much. Disturbing the peace was a big time problem in a house of 20-ish people. Everyone wanted peace.

    Sally had whisper-shouted at Penelope twice when she had thought Mark was out of range of hearing, trying to get her to let problems go, but Mark was not out of range anywhere on this property, at all. He might not have heard the specific words, but his Unionsense told him of the undercurrent of anger within every single person here. He could guess at what Penelope had said.

    Practically all of Sally¡¯s family was talking about him behind his back, when he wasn¡¯t there.

    They had all hid their anger behind kinder eyes and a history of always having Mark over for family get-togethers, since Mark was Sally¡¯s best friend. They all pretended everything was the same.

    The only one who wasn¡¯t angry at all was Sally.

    Mark said, ¡°I understand Penelope¡¯s complaints, Sally. I really do. Stuff happened.¡± He sighed and sat back on the log, saying, ¡°You know? In some way it feels more natural to have people be mad at me. Everyone walks lightly around me if they know me, or else they don¡¯t know me at all and they think I¡¯m a hero. It¡¯s fucking weird, Sally. Anger seems more normal. I¡¯m still angry about all of it, too.¡±

    Sally said nothing. She looked away, her vector pointing in every direction and also toward Mark as she thought. Eventually, she decided something. She breathed in, and then she looked at him, and said, ¡°Even so, I¡¯m sorry about my family.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Thanks.¡±

    Sally slumped a little, but she was still an 8 foot tall amazon of a woman. She was still a lot bigger than Mark, even when slumped. She looked at him, and said, ¡°I¡¯m not mad at you. A lot of other people are but¡­ They¡¯re not. Not really... I talked to a paladin friend of mine about how I felt about you, and Orange City, and¡­ and everything that happened¡­¡± She went quiet again.

    She didn¡¯t want to talk about it, and Mark didn¡¯t really want to talk about it, either.

    ¡­ And so, Mark changed the subject, saying. ¡°So you¡¯re an acolyte of Drakarok, the God of War and Murder, huh! We haven¡¯t really talked about that yet.¡± Mark put on a smile, not sure why.

    Sally huffed a laugh, saying, ¡°I haven¡¯t killed anyone yet, asshole.¡±

    Mark felt singled out, but he was pretty sure Sally hadn¡¯t meant to do that.

    The embers of the fire crackled in the pit, warmth radiating out, keeping away the snow flurries in the air. It wasn¡¯t too cold outside. Not yet, and not with both Mark having a Body at 59 and Sally probably at 90 already, with Giant Strength. Maybe a 50 in her Natural category, too, that Power, gifted and grafted onto her from her God.

    ¡°I have,¡± Mark said, not sure why he said it. ¡°Killed someone. On purpose, too.¡±

    Sally was still, and then she nodded. ¡°Who was it, and why¡¯d you do it?¡±

    Those words seemed deeper than their meaning.

    Mark looked at the embers. ¡°It was a Mind Controller. A cultist of Thrashtalon, back when I first got into Memphi months ago.¡± Mark had never told Sally this, not yet, because he had wanted to tell her in person. ¡°It was after I met the High Priestess of Drakarok, Red Wolf, at Wolf Bayou. The Mind Controller came after me because of money, the first time, and then the second time she came after me because all of her family had died in the last week, after I left them wounded but alive. One by one, her kids died, and then she turned to Thrashtalon all the way.¡±

    Sally stared at the embers of the fire. She said, ¡°My girlfriend was killed two months ago. Her name was Anara.¡±

    Mark tensed. He had no idea how the two things said were connected, but he didn¡¯t need to know. He instantly said, ¡°Oh my gods, Sally. Oh fuck. I didn¡¯t even know you were dating¡­ I¡¯m so sorry, Sally.¡±

    Sally smiled, wiped away a tear, and then she said, ¡°I only knew her for 5 months, but she was there for me when Addavein destroyed Glade Grove. We talked about everything, Mark. She was a survivor of a failed settlement, who had to evacuate when the powerhouses in the settlement moved on and the second string couldn¡¯t hold against a kaiju. Everyone thought the settlement was safe, but¡­ Her home was destroyed when she was 9 years old. She was 19 when I met her, and she had been a freelance hunter for a year.¡± She looked at Mark, and said, ¡°She was amazing, and I wanted to introduce you two to each other, but it didn¡¯t happen.¡±

    Mark had no trouble saying, ¡°I would have liked to have met her.¡±

    Sally grinned a little. And then she said, ¡°Invite me to the settlement project, Mark.¡±

    Mark practically startled. ¡°Yes! Yes. I want you to come to that¡­ obviously. I just didn¡¯t¡­ get to it yet.¡±

    ¡­ Didn¡¯t she have a team? She did. But her girlfriend was on her team, then?

    What had happened?

    Mark didn¡¯t know. He had thought that Sally was just here for a break and then going back and he would have needed to work hard to convince her to switch teams. He was prepared to accept Sally¡¯s teammates onto his team, too. He had been prepared for a lot!

    Mark didn¡¯t ask about any of those things, though.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your girlfriend. I think you told me about Anara once¡­ She was a scout, right?¡±

    ¡°A very good scout.¡± Sally smiled and said, ¡°No more tragedies. For either of us.¡±

    Mark seriously said, ¡°I want that, too, but there have been so many close calls on every battlefield I have ever been on. Fuck! Sometimes it¡¯s everything I can do to make sure no one dies.¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°But you have saved people.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I have.¡± Mark felt warm to see Sally grinning at him like that. ¡°A lot of people, actually.¡±

    ¡°Who did you save recently?¡±

    Mark knew she was humoring him, but he had no trouble getting right into it, saying, ¡°Just the other day there was a chimeric cow/snake monster that rewrote every other monster into a copy of itself every time its snake-headed tail bit something else. It was probably some Thrashtalon thing, though we don¡¯t really know the cause, but it¡¯s too close to goblin magics to be anything else besides Thrashtalon, right? Or at least that¡¯s my thinking. Anyway. There were these fucking idiots out there on the field ¡ªlooked like a Tinker in power armor and someone with some mud magic¡ª and they were trying to take samples of the still-living monsters and the severed snake heads! Normally, this is perfectly fine. Let people do whatever they want, you know. But the mud girl got bit twice and I had to cleanse the infection away twice. I eventually yelled at them to get them off of the field.¡± Mark said, ¡°They got mad and I pulled temporary rank on them, knocked them out, and sent them to the back lines. I did not want to knock them out like that, but they left me no choice. They were gonna go back out there into the field.¡±

    ¡°Monster cows, huh! Those are good eating!¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s what you want to focus on? Sure. Well, yes, of course cows are good eating, but these ones were transformative.¡±

    Sally smiled. ¡°I bet it turns out someone tried to make a cow that could automatically make more of itself, without the need for anything like breeding and growing times and needing to feed the growing cows.¡±

    Like sunshine breaking through the clouds, Mark felt illuminated. That¡¯s what the whole deal with the cows was, wasn¡¯t it? Mark had no way of knowing it for sure, but it felt right¡­

    Wait.

    Maybe that tinkerer and mud girl¡­ No. Nope. They were just opportunists who probably saw exactly what Sally had just now seen, which Mark had missed completely. As for the reason for the cows themselves...

    Mark frowned. ¡°Nope. Those cows were a Thrashtalon plot, I am sure of it. The team captains on site agreed to burn all of the bodies and make sure no samples were taken¡­ but I am sure someone took samples.¡± Mark hummed.

    ¡°Daihoon is full of shit you would not believe,¡± Sally said. ¡°Cows that make more of themselves? That is absolutely something that someone would try to create.¡±

    Mark agreed, saying, ¡°Well yeah. Now that you say it, I could see it¡­ But.¡± Mark frowned a little. ¡°That¡¯s crazy?¡±

    ¡°Dragons eat a lot, and a lot of people over there like dragons, so maybe someone was trying to make dragon food.¡± Sally said, ¡°I heard that there were going to be dragons at the new settlement.¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Daihoon threw out the dragons. We¡¯re not letting the dragons into the new settlement, either¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°But they are dragons, so¡­ I don¡¯t know. They do what they want, most of the time, and humanity just works around them. The people at the settlement are making plans to compensate for Addavein, but I am not being instructed on those compensations, and on purpose. They don¡¯t want the dragon to get anything out of me. Someone is making decisions about that far above me.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Far above you.¡± Sally snorted.

    ¡°What!¡± Mark exclaimed, barely able to suppress a grin.

    ¡°I know you, Mark Careed,¡± Sally said, teasing, ¡°You want all the power you can get, and you¡¯re gonna get there. I am too, though!¡± She flexed an arm, showing off her big muscles even underneath her winter coat. ¡°Look at this shit! I¡¯m a times-15 multiplier right now! Grrr! I¡¯m gonna be a powerhouse!¡±

    Mark laughed.

    ¡°You better be ready to climb that ladder, too, or else I¡¯m gonna be your boss, Mark,¡± Sally said, grinning.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be a good boss, so that¡¯s fine by me. And if you do it wrong I¡¯ll form a Union.¡±

    Sally laughed. ¡°You¡¯re in the Slayers, yeah? I heard they were ruffians, barely better than adventurers.¡±

    ¡°Rude! The Slayers are fantastic! I¡¯m a few steps away from Green and then come the ranks from 1 to 10. That¡¯s the real slog. Higher ranks mean more and better work, though. I¡¯m probably gonna go out against goblins and their kind eventually. You know, killing monsters hundreds at a time.¡±

    Sally snorted.

    Mark teased, ¡°What are you gonna do? Brawny all over all the monsters?¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Sally¡¯s eyes lit up. She smiled magnificently as she said, ¡°I have these gigantic fucking swords, and I do brawny all over all the monsters. It works very well!¡± She stood up and held out her hands, like she was holding onto an imaginary sword hilt. Mark could practically see it, too, there in the flickers of fire and snow and imagination. Sally¡¯s eyes sparkled, as she said, ¡°Kaiju blades, Mark.¡±

    She swept her arms around, and Mark felt her vector flash into the ground underfoot, and her steps were absolutely solid upon the snow itself, and the dirt and stone underneath that. Sally had perfect Tactile Telekinesis, and she used it to support herself on ground as solid as stone as she mimed swinging a sword through the air. Mark felt the wind flurry around him as Sally swept around herself, the wind curling at an unseen touch. Sally looked to Mark, grinned, and then tapped her feet, launching herself into the air like a dainty ballerina, but she was really a 500 pound muscle woman. She spun in the air, twice and fast, and came down ten meters away, on the far side of the embers of the bonfire. She didn¡¯t make a single sound as she landed. The ground swallowed her stance and Sally stood tall.

    Mark clapped. ¡°Wooo!¡±

    Sally burst out laughing.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll get you a real kaiju blade with adamantium, Sally.¡±

    Sally¡¯s eyes went wide. She instantly said, ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be indebted to That Dragon for any reason at all, Mark. No. Even the small knife is too much.¡±

    Mark added, ¡°And I¡¯ll get you a bigger knife. I underestimated how much bigger you were and you need a bigger knife.¡±

    Sally startled. She was about to say something¡ª

    But Misses Wuthers, Sally¡¯s mom, came out of the back door of the house, bundled up tight against the cold, saying, ¡°Sally! Do NOT jump around like that! Holy hell, girl! I know you¡¯re past Curtain Protocol but we¡¯ve got three cousins that are not! And the neighbors!¡±

    Sally was easily 3 times the size of her mother, but she looked small in that moment as she said, ¡°Sorry, Mom.¡±

    Mark smiled a little¡ª

    And then Missus Wuthers rounded on him, saying, ¡°And you! Penelope wants to apologize, if you want her apology. You¡¯re always welcome in the Wuthers house, Mark! Always. Now come back inside! Both of you! It¡¯s freaking cold out here.¡± She turned and began to mumble, ¡°I cannot believe Penelope said those things¡­¡± She continued to mumble a little, which is something Missus Wuthers always did, saying something about how she knew that Mark and Sally were going to get into a Power measuring contest the second the two of them were out alone together.

    She had probably been watching as Mark and Sally had gone outside to talk ¡®in private¡¯. She was in charge of ¡®Guarding the Curtain¡¯, as it were.

    Mark grinned a little, feeling warm despite the cold. ¡°We¡¯ll save the Power measuring for later.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ll win!¡± Sally said, happily.

    ¡°As if!¡±

    Sally walked toward the house with Mark, saying, ¡°A barely-Yellow Slayer up against a full fledged fifth rank Belter! Hardly a contest.¡±

    Mark scoffed again, saying, ¡°I¡¯m High Yellow! And what the fuck is a ¡®belter¡¯ anyway? Sounds like a knock-off Slayer to me¡­¡±

    They went back inside the house together, though Sally had to duck a lot and they had to couch their language around the kids, but Mark felt good, being here with Sally and her family, and seeing that all of the Wuthers family had survived. Aunt Penelope even gave Mark an apology, though he thought it was unnecessary, and he said as much. Everyone in the house was still mad at him, though. They did an excellent job of hiding it, and Mark did an excellent job of ignoring it, just how they all did a good job of ignoring that there were 26 people in the house right now. This wasn¡¯t just a family get together.

    All these people living here was a complicated situation, and Mark was an outsider, so maybe most of the anger wasn¡¯t actually directed at him?

    ¡­ Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe it was a 50/50 split.

    Mark bid his farewells soon enough, and then he walked outside, into the dark, with Sally at his side. Streetlamps shone onto drifting snow, like yellow glows onto cracked pavement and white glitter. Snow crunched underfoot. The tram station was up ahead, glowing in the dark, also off-yellow. The lights and the infrastructure around this part of Memphi was simpler than back in Shady Acres¡­ Or maybe ¡®less rich¡¯, would be a better way of putting it.

    It would have been a cold night if Mark was alone, but thankfully he wasn¡¯t.

    Sally was acting weird, though... which was pretty normal, considering everything. Everything was weird. It was what it was.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came, Mark,¡± Sally said, though she wanted to say a lot more than that.

    Mark stopped walking. He had some things to say, too, and some last minute additions to Sally¡¯s Christmas present.

    Sally paused, to stand with him.

    Mark said, ¡°Hold out your hand.¡±

    Sally arched an eyebrow, and then she smirked and held out a hand.

    ¡°I want you to move in with us at Shady Acres, Sally, and I want you to take this and buy a bigger house for your family. Maybe two houses.¡± Mark partitioned off a good cubic centimeter of adamantium, which was about 22 grams of the stuff, and he put it into Sally¡¯s hand. ¡°That¡¯s about 800,000 goldleaf, but it used to be about a million. That much made Mom and Dad First Citizens of Orange City, when they handed it over to the city. Memphi doesn¡¯t have the same system because they¡¯re tier 4 and everyone has basic necessities¡­ But this is still a lot of money, and you need it, and I want you to have it.¡±

    Sally tensed, but only for a moment. She breathed, staring at the black cube in her hand. It was so small. And then put it into her pocket. Mark breathed out when he saw that. He wasn¡¯t sure when he had stopped breathing, or when he had tensed so much he couldn¡¯t do anything but stand there, but he started breathing again, and Sally looked¡­ resolute.

    Sally first asked, ¡°Can you afford this?¡±

    ¡°I can.¡±

    Sally nodded. ¡°Good, because the family needs money and they weren¡¯t willing to take it from me, but I will force them to take this, if only to get rid of it so they don¡¯t have it sitting in their house.¡±

    Mark smiled a little at that.

    Sally asked, ¡°I don¡¯t want money from you though, Mark. Weaponry, I will gladly take, because there is no way in hell I could ever afford the good shit, but money I am gonna make on my own. We¡¯re gonna be on a team, too, right?¡±

    She wanted to team up with him, too? Amazing!

    Mark rapidly agreed, ¡°Yes! No gifts of money. Weapons are good. And yes. A team. Right now it¡¯s just sitting at home and waiting for calls to come in¡­ I don¡¯t know how it is for your Belter group but it¡¯s complicated with the Slayers. There¡¯s a whole tier system of who gets called in for what¡­ Can you join the Slayers, too?¡±

    Sally said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna switch to the Slayers, then.¡± She asked, ¡°Everyone else in your group okay with this?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. They are. I asked Eliot to put an addition onto the house and he did! I was hoping you¡¯d get to use it and you will! There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s a lot more to know¡ª¡± Mark wanted to talk about more stuff, but there was too much and another big question suddenly appeared. Or rather, reappeared. ¡°You already have a group, though?¡±

    Sally smiled softly. ¡°I did have a group. It was a good group. Arana died, though, and we didn¡¯t have a proper healer anyway. Terek and Shane decided they had seen enough mangled bodies for a lifetime, too, so they cut and run. I¡¯m a free agent right now.¡±

    Mark felt a hollowness. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡± And Sally had never told him. Holy shit, how much had she not told him? It always took her a long time to answer emails and messages¡­ Mark didn¡¯t want to think about that right now. Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sally. I¡¯m really glad to have you, though.¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°Thanks, Mark.¡±

    Mark smiled and then he wanted to hug Sally, but she was so much taller than him, so Mark stepped into the air, lifting off of the ground, and Sally¡¯s eyes went wide before she realized that a hug was happening. She laughed and hugged Mark strongly, and both of them heard Mark¡¯s back crack, but when Mark just laughed, Sally chuckled and held looser.

    For a moment, Mark recalled other hugs, after sparring matches, after birthdays, and just because, but back then both of them were only just over five and a half feet tall¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re so fucking short, man!¡± Sally said, laughing, as she let go.

    ¡°I¡¯m over six and a half godsdammed feet tall!¡± Mark said, chuckling as he set back down on the ground.

    Sally patted him on the head, saying, ¡°Short king!¡±

    Mark tried to slap her hand away, but it was like slapping at an iron girder. Ducking to get away, Mark said an old retort that both of them had used against taller people at one time or another, ¡°Short people make harder targets!¡±

    Sally smirked. And then she stood tall in the dark, in the gentle glows of the streetlamps and the dust of snow that fluttered through the air. With a strong voice, she declared, ¡°Do not worry, little man! I will protect you. Let the enemy arrows and spears fall upon me instead, so that I may return them tenfold to all the evils of the wilds!¡±

    Mark stood in shock, and then he smiled, felt fantastic, and said, ¡°Oh my gods, Sally.¡±

    Sally relaxed, grinning wide.

    ¡°You know I¡¯m in the Villain Program though. So you¡¯ve got to be more villainous in your speeches.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh shit. You are! Oh. Uh. I¡¯ll have to figure that out, then¡ª¡± Sally interrupted herself, saying, ¡°Give me your best villain lines.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any,¡± Mark sort-of lied.

    Sally laughed. ¡°None?! No no no. You have one. At least one! It¡¯s probably embarrassing. It has to be. You¡¯re a fucking villain and those guys are corny as Idahoian kaiju shit.¡± She made a come-on gesture with both hands, flapping her fingers, saying, ¡°Give it to me.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    Mark tried to think¡ª

    Okay.

    Sure.

    He could do¡­ that.

    Mark squared his shoulders, hovered a foot in the air and spread his arms to the sides, black veins coursing outside of his skin, into the world, into the twilight. He pulsed his Union with light, drawing in brightness and giving out gloom instead. He knew his eyes glowed white and that freaked out Sally a bit, because she stepped back, her own eyes going wide. Mark¡¯s gloom enveloped both of them and also the nearest ten meters of empty sidewalk. Snow dust sparkled like stars in the air.

    Mark intoned, ¡°Mercy shall only be granted to the obedient. Beg and live. Fight and die.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°¡­ Holy fucking shit, Mark.¡±

    Mark settled down, wincing. ¡°Err¡­ too much?¡±

    ¡°That was terrifying and you¡¯re gonna be a great villain.¡±

    ¡°The overbearing tyrant wasn¡¯t too much? It¡¯s just one of the options!¡±

    ¡°I like it¡­ I wouldn¡¯t want to meet you on a battlefield, which is the point, but it¡¯s¡­ good¡ª Why that one? What are the other options? Oh my gods I need to know the other options, Mark. Give me another¡­¡± Sally pulled back a moment, adding, ¡°Actually¡­ I¡¯ll come over tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Mark took out his phone, asking, ¡°Quark? Send her¡­¡± He paused. He had a moment, and then he looked at Sally and said, ¡°There was some stuff I wanted to talk to you about before we teamed and lived together, but... It¡¯s really, really important. I¡¯ll send you a packet, okay? Don¡¯t let others read it, okay? It¡¯s definitely Curtain Protocol breaking.¡±

    Sally was all aboard until she heard that last part. She shook her head. ¡°Nope. Tell me tomorrow. Give me directions to your house, though. You¡¯re like¡­ what? An hour away by tram?¡±

    Mark nodded and then he told Quark, ¡°Send her instructions to reach the house, Quark.¡± Quark flashed silver on the phone, and then Mark put the phone away as he heard Sally¡¯s phone vibrate in her pocket.

    Sally touched her pocket, saying, ¡°Handy AI you got there.¡±

    ¡°Quark is good. Always dies in battle, though. I¡¯m working on fixing that.¡± Mark continued, ¡°You have to go through a few transfers to get to the fast line to Shady Acres. You might think you can avoid the main hub by taking a side route, and you could, but it¡¯s usually a whole hour slower, so just go through the main hub by Central Memphi and brave the crowds.¡±

    ¡°Will do,¡± Sally said, with a grin. And then her countenance turned still, her eyes turned watery, and she bent down and hugged Mark again, sobbing once, saying, ¡°I really missed you, Mark. Oh gods, I have so much I want to tell you.¡±

    Mark held on to Sally and he felt his own tears come. ¡°I missed¡ª I missed you, too.¡± The hug lasted for a little while, and Mark felt wonderful in that moment. He could tell Sally was happy, too. Mark told her quietly, ¡°We¡¯re gonna be killing so many monsters.¡±

    Sally laughed and broke the hug, stepping up to look down on Mark again, sniffing as she wiped away a tear. She chuckled a little. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow! I¡¯ll have a room all ready for you! It¡¯s big! Eliot made it for big people. You got a massive shower space, too.¡±

    Sally smiled.

    Mark continued, ¡°You¡¯re gonna love ¡®em, Sally. And I know they¡¯re going to love you, too.¡±

    Sally chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow!¡±

    Mark took a moment, standing there. It was awkward for reasons that Mark couldn¡¯t understand. For whatever reason, or perhaps because it was just what needed to happen next, Mark turned and walked away, waving as he headed toward the tram station.

    Sally waved back, watching him go.

    Not ten steps later Mark felt Sally¡¯s vector point away from him, and in every other direction. She was thinking about a lot as she walked back home, in the soft snow.

    Mark got on the tram and took the route all the way back to Central, then over to Shady Acres. It was crowded and a few people recognized him, their vectors turning absolutely focused on him, but they didn¡¯t approach. They just whispered to their friends, or to their parents, or to their other traveling partners about ¡®Is that guy over there who I think he is?¡¯. A few people had wealth detectors, and those guys pinged hard on Mark, but those guys all looked at their watches, or phones, or ring devices, and either decided the thing was fritzing, or that Mark was too much for them.

    Almost all of those wealth-detecting people got up and moved to a different tram after they realized their detectors were not on the fritz.

    Mark made it home, safe and sound, to an empty house. Isoko and Eliot would be back tomorrow. Mark sent them a bunch of messages about how the reunion with Sally had gone, and then wished them a good time with their families. He hoped that they liked Sally, because she was going to show up tomorrow. Neither of them answered. They were both doing things, for sure, their little icons on Accord all dimmed. But they would answer quickly, once they got around to it.

    Unlike Sally who took weeks to answer.

    ¡­ Mark tried not to think about that too much, though.

 121

    Upon waking the next day, Mark checked out the Accord channel with Isoko and Eliot, and Mark smiled.

    They had answered, and quickly!

    - -

    VeryHuman (Today:2:39AM): I¡¯ll tell her myself, but you can tell her that her room is adjustable as soon as I get back. She is 2.5 meters tall, right? Average Giant Strength height/weight? The room should work out well. The bed is a strong one.

    HimePink (Today:5:02AM): If she can fight like you, then she will be a good addition to the team. I look forward to meeting her.

    - -

    Mark felt warm. Both Eliot and Isoko were being diplomatic; he was sure they had reservations. Anyone would! So Mark started typing, telling them about how both he and Sally were first class in their weight divisions back before the Tutorial, and so she should still be a good fighter. And she was giant now! With a 15-times modifier. She was a frontliner, just like Isoko¡­ Mark backspaced before he sent that last message. He didn¡¯t want Isoko to feel infringed. She loved her Platinum Body these days, but she was trying to be a frontliner, too. She got offended at other frontliners sometimes, when they could do everything she could do, but stronger.

    Mark reworded his message and talked about how Sally could be a proper tank with her Retaliation power from Drakarok. Yes. That seemed¡­ better. Isoko was going to learn some magic, too, and Mark suspected she was going to be good at it, so Isoko was still secure in her position. She would always be secure in her position if Mark had anything to say about it, because Mark simply trusted Isoko like a rock he could absolutely rely upon, and that mattered.

    When he was done with those messages he went to the home gym and pumped some iron, while simultaneously making shapes out of his adamantium, stretching his capability further. Cubes became mobius strips became fish which became spiders. Mark had long ago moved on from doing one Shaping exercise while lifting weights, and now he did 6 at the same time. All of those shapes were malformed because Mark had a split focus going on, but he needed the training, and he was getting better. He would always have a split focus on the battlefield, and he needed to be able to make different weapons for different scenarios.

    And now that he could actually make real adamantium weapons, and not just needles and scalpels, he needed to do more, because he could do more. He still wasn¡¯t able to break the link between Shaping-action with his astral body and physical-body action, but he was getting there! Sometimes, when he moved the metal, it ¡®slipped¡¯, moving with remarkable speed.

    Mark hadn¡¯t been able to replicate that feat outside of concentrated effort in a quiet environment, though.

    The day passed fast and slow at the same time.

    Mark refrained from calling Sally, to see where she was, until 2 in the afternoon.

    Sally did not pick up.

    Mark did not leave a message.

    He sent a text instead, that amounted to ¡®Your room is all ready for you!¡¯.

    And then Mark went and made sure the room was ready.

    That killed an hour.

    Mark absolutely refrained from calling Sally¡¯s parents and otherwise. That would be wrong.

    At 5 pm, Mark started making himself and Sally dinner. It was pasta, and a lot of it. At 6, the pasta was done and in the baking dish, sitting in the oven, waiting for Sally to show up.

    The sun set.

    8 pm rolled around.

    Still no Sally.

    Mark lay on the couch, freaking out.

    What had happened? Where was Sally? They had never set a real time for her to come over, because why would they ever do that? ¡®Come over tomorrow!¡¯ was good enough, right? It should have bee¡ª

    The security system pinged, the cameras activating at the presence of an unknown person walking off of the street, toward the house. Mark¡¯s phone flickered silver as Quark brought up the camera feed, showing Sally walking in the dark, with her whole life strapped to her back. There was a crate and ropes and bags hanging off of the side and stacked on top.

    Mark felt his heart soar and then he extended his senses outward, far away, and he felt Sally walking this way. It was real. She was here.

    Mark leapt to his feet and raced toward the door, throwing it open to call out into the night, ¡°I thought I was gonna have to send out a search party!¡±

    Sally was still at the end of the driveway, walking this way. She guffawed. ¡°I have a lot of shit, Mark! It took time!¡± She jogged a little, getting close enough that Mark could see her properly. She didn¡¯t look weighed down at all, but she certainly was. She smiled anyway, as she loomed. ¡°Where¡¯s my room? I might be 15-times the woman I was, but this shit is heavy, and¡­¡±

    Tension left Mark¡¯s shoulders as he helped Sally unload her crate and her bags, using little clips of adamantium to pick up stuff and float it into the house. There were books and boxes galore, and some of the books were in odd languages, and Mark talked about those and Sally spoke of learning new languages by paying a fee to get a spell cast on her. The floodgates opened, and they started talking about absolutely everything under the sun, from monsters they had fought, to people they had seen, and then Mark started talking about his time at Citadel and they had dinner, over a keg of beer that Sally had brought.

    She ate almost a full gallon of pasta while Mark talked. She finished off all that was left, and Mark had to comment¡ª

    ¡°Holy shit you were hungry!¡±

    Sally instantly started complaining, ¡°I am never full! It¡¯s impossible to eat enough! I had to contain myself around the family¡ª They bitched about you paying for a new house, by the way, but Mom assured me in private that she was in charge of the finances, and she was gonna get a bigger house. I believe her.¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± Mark beat his heart with sustenance and deprivation, connecting to Sally and the cold world beyond the house. The forest was in hibernation, but it was still alive, and it appreciated being able to share in life with all the other life around. ¡°Tell me if this helps with the food situation.¡±

    Sally got a funny look on her face. ¡°¡­ What... Oh. It¡¯s that sustenance/deprivation thing?¡± Sally relaxed in her chair. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s nice. Keep it coming, Mark!¡±

    Mark smiled, flashed some purity/impurity and got both of them clean, just because it was a nice thing to do. He was glad that he was able to help a friend like this, and said, ¡°It¡¯s not really that good right now, because we¡¯re in the middle of winter, but it¡¯ll be better once we¡¯re near actual green stuff¡­¡± Mark was suddenly concerned. ¡°Do you know about Union? I have been staying away from Drakarok¡¯s Retaliation or whatever it is called.¡±

    Sally looked at Mark. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ aiming¡­ to be a paladin of Drakarok. Does that scare you?¡±

    Mark paused. And then Mark said, ¡°No, and yes. I trust you, Sally. I¡¯m wary of the god of murder and war.¡±

    Sally scoffed. ¡°He¡¯s more like a janitor than some sort of death in the dark.¡±

    For a moment, Mark was stunned. ¡°¡­ A janitor?¡±

    ¡®Death in the dark¡¯ was also a concerning phrase.

    Sally chuckled then waved a hand, saying, ¡°That''s a big topic that¡¯s basically all about enforcing morality against the worst of offenders. Let¡¯s talk about something else for now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s do that.¡± Mark asked, ¡°So you had to ¡®contain¡¯ your hunger around your family? What happened?¡± Mark added. ¡°Or rather than that: What happened to your family after the dragon? We talked a little bit but¡­ They¡¯re all still in the same house? What¡¯s up with that!¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t there for most of the happenings with the family, you understand...¡± Sally looked away, and then she began, ¡°But I did come back home about ten days after the happening. It took that long to get through customs and back through the stopover on Endless Daihoon. The family had evacuated as a secondary string request, you know? Everyone who was in contact with you was told that they should consider packing up and leaving just in case of a targeted Magefall, though no one expected it to be an actual Magefall ¡ªand the recent blowback on Daihoon is that of course it wasn¡¯t a Magefall, and too many people use that word too loosely¡­ Anyway. When you start throwing around phrases like ¡®Archmage Addashield, the Scion of the System, is Falling¡¯, then you get a whole bunch of action happening very fast, and that action swept through the family like a hurricane.

    ¡°When I got back to Earth the family was already in Memphi at that time¡ª The very first time I was here, with them, Arana was here with me. The other two stayed back at Harbordock¡ª That¡¯s the base where I was with the Belters¡­ Anyway.

    ¡°I got here to Memphi and everyone was wearing basic browns and no one had any jobs and they were all on UBI trying to get jobs and make it, but mostly they were half-catatonic. Mom was crying daily about her house and her four cats¡­¡± Sally sighed. ¡°She had set the cats up with that whole feeding system, but then there was a nuclear dragonblast, and you know. Anyway. Mom was crying. Dad was yelling at his sisters. Aunt Penelope tried to make a bunch of food for the family, but when I started to grab my first plate¡­ She snapped at me, talking about how I shouldn¡¯t eat that much.

    ¡°I was already fucking 8 foot tall! 410 pounds! Skinny as fuck back then, too. And here she was, this tiny woman who had always had a lot, who I had looked up to as my lesbian aunt with her 2-income-no-kids lifestyle, who had always had so much, was telling me I shouldn¡¯t eat so much because they had to feed the cousins and the other people from Orange City, too, and¡­¡± Sally frowned. She looked away for a moment, then she turned back and said, ¡°I tried to give them money, you know. I am a hunter, too. I have 90k in the International Bank of Aluatha right now. I had less back then, but it would have been enough for a rental somewhere. Literally the only thing I bought with my money by then was a giant ass sword ¡ªwhich I have to go back and get, but later¡ª and I was saving up for proper armor, but that could go on hold. I tried to give them money. They didn¡¯t take it.

    ¡°Admittedly, I was stupid about how I tried to give them money. I wasn¡¯t forceful enough. They asked me what I was saving up for and I stupidly told them about my dreams of proper warrior armor, and then they decided they weren¡¯t going to take my money, ever.

    ¡°They took your money, though I did have to be smarter about it.

    ¡°Anyway.

    ¡°I was only here in Memphi for a tenday and it was one crisis after the other¡­¡± Sally paused.

    Mark could tell she was working up to something, but he didn¡¯t know what. He was tense. She was tense.

    And then Sally said, ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about your mom and dad. I wasn¡¯t there nearly enough¡­ When you were in the coma...¡± Sally teared up. ¡°I thought you were going to die. The whole time! You almost did die. I talked to your dad a few times¡­¡± Sally couldn¡¯t talk anymore through the lump in her throat.

    Mark blinked away a few of his own tears and tried to grin, to banish the pain. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Sally.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Mark.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be sorry about,¡± Mark said, putting on a smile. ¡°You were out there killing monsters, saving people you¡¯d never meet, and getting a girlfriend.¡± He softly added, ¡°I¡¯m sorry she isn¡¯t with us anymore.¡±

    Now probably wasn¡¯t the best time to talk about Isoko and his own long-term plans to find resurrection magic. That would better come up later. Sally seemed fragile at the moment and they had so much to talk about anyway.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Sally chuckled, either nervously, or just to fill the void of sorrow with something nicer than pain. And then she took a deep breath, shrugged her shoulders to loosen up, and said, ¡°So let¡¯s talk about the settlement thing! What¡¯s happening there? How do I officially join and shit? What happens now?¡±

    Mark was ready to move on in the conversation, too. He never wanted to deal with being sad ever again. But there was one important thing to discuss.

    Mark began, ¡°You need to sign a settlement contract with the settlement committee to pledge to make the settlement your home base for the next 5 years. You can vacation wherever you want, and you can move around, too, but the settlement is your home base.¡±

    Sally nodded, focused on the moment. ¡°That means I pay taxes to them, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Basically, yes. It¡¯s lower for us settlers¡ª that¡¯s what your designation will be, along with all of us. We¡¯ll get grandfathered into those lower rates if we stay there for 5 years. It¡¯s like¡­ a whole standardized thing. I¡¯m not sure about all of it, but as settlers, we get better treatment. It¡¯s like being a First Citizen in Orange City. Some people at Orange City are First Citizens because they were grandfathered in, but we were able to buy it with that adamantium trinket¡­ Anyway, at the settlement you have to work to keep that designation. We shouldn¡¯t have any problems with that¡­ Ah¡­ I got distracted.¡± Mark paused, looked at Sally, and decided it was time for a big bomb. He began, ¡°You know how mithrilkinetics make mithril, and adamantiumkinetics don¡¯t make adamantium? Well I¡¯m one of the adamantiumkinetics that do make adamantium. It¡¯s a big deal, and I need you to swear to secrecy about that. The adamantium I gave your family came from me, directly. Not from Addavein.¡±

    Sally completely lost focus for a good minute. It was like Mark had come in with a baseball bat to her noggin.

    She rebooted.

    ¡°Wait¡­ What? What? No wait. Uh. Say that last part again?¡± And then Sally rapidly added, ¡°I knew about mithrilkinetics. I tried to commission armor¡ª They told me that¡­¡± She gasped a little. ¡°Holy fuck, Mark.¡±

    She went silent. She stared a little, then she looked away in thought.

    Mark waited. He didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Without looking at him, Sally asked, ¡°So I need to protect you?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°No need for protection, but I¡¯m glad that¡¯s where you went with it.¡±

    Really, really glad, actually.

    ¡°Good, because I can¡¯t protect you at all. I won¡¯t endanger you, ever, Mark, but I can¡¯t protect you more than one mortal can protect another.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah, I get it?¡± Mark said/asked, suddenly not sure why Sally was going so strongly on telling him she couldn¡¯t protect him. ¡°No one can protect me from my own life, Sally.¡±

    Sally looked at Mark. ¡°When we were kids, we talked about having superpowers and what it would mean. It¡¯d be all rainbows and sunshine, and we¡¯d kill the kaiju with single punches, like Glorious Man. We were young and stupid.¡± Sally continued, ¡°The world is dangerous, and I can¡¯t protect shit, Mark. I can¡¯t protect shit.¡±

    Oh.

    This was¡­

    This was something deep, wasn¡¯t it.

    Mark saw the pain in her eyes. He instantly thought of Arana, Sally¡¯s dead girlfriend. He didn¡¯t know the history of her and her girlfriend, but he knew it had left a deep wound upon her. Obviously.

    Mark strongly said, ¡°Yes you can protect shit, Sally, because I¡¯m here with you, and we¡¯ll be doing this whole thing together. It looks a whole lot different than either of us imagined it, but we¡¯re here now, together, and we can do anything.¡±

    Sally was about to object, probably to say how Mark didn¡¯t understand.

    Mark didn¡¯t allow her a moment to say something. He hadn¡¯t imagined he would tell Sally about resurrection magic now, but she looked like she needed it, so he continued, ¡°Have you heard that rumor of Addavein¡¯s, about the elves and resurrection magics up on Endless Daihoon? Getting that magic is just one of our goals. Isoko and my goals. Far off, nebulous goals. None of us are strong enough to go onto Endless Daihoon yet. But eventually we will be, and you, Isoko, and Eliot, too, are all going to be decked out in adamantium armor with the best weapons anyone can possibly make.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be a little weird with the Villain Program and a little exciting with the settlement thing, but each of us are going to have to be the absolute best we could ever be, because that¡¯s what we have to do to live in this world, Sally. We¡¯re going to save the world. It¡¯ll take years, but we¡¯re going to make everything better.

    ¡°Death to all monsters, delivered by humanity through our actions and arms.

    ¡°Death to all monsters.¡±

    Mark watched as the moment crystallized in Sally¡¯s eyes.

    She stared, secure and focused. She breathed a little.

    Sally said, ¡°Death to all monsters.¡± And then the pressure fractured and Sally nervously chuckled. ¡°The fuck, Mark! Resurrection magic? I have seen some horror shows of people trying to resurrect the dead. Why do you think this Addavein-rumor is different?¡±

    Mark smiled, asking, ¡°The magic level of Daihoon is on another level, right? They have necromancers and shit, right? I basically learned that souls really, truly do exist, like, a week ago. And I don¡¯t know why I think Addavein isn¡¯t lying, or fibbing, or whatever. I do trust that the dragon wants to be the god emperor of man, though, and that requires that he brings something to the table large enough to reverse opinions on dragon oversight.¡±

    A comfortable, warm silence stretched.

    Mark watched Sally, and Sally¡¯s vector went everywhere. She was thinking about a lot¡ª

    Sally went into a story, ¡°The fact that living things truly do have souls is something I learned in my first month. I had just signed up for the Belters and one of the first missions I went on was caravan guarding out to a commune in the woods.¡±

    ¡°Holy crap. A commune in the woods! Was it a hunted area?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah it was hunted, but not by people. It was haunted. There was a spirit caller shaman-type family that lived in this wilds-based tribe. His clan was a pit stop on the trip, and every single person in his family had shackled the souls of a thousand different monsters to all of the trees in the area. It was a type of Okuana Empire forest, though one of the less common types for sure. The trapped souls were all monstrous spirits, from chimeric frogs to cats to wolf-types. A lot of monkey-types, too. Every single one of them looked as they did in life, but instead of flesh they were made of glowing aura, mostly soft green. They didn¡¯t know they were dead, Mark. And they didn¡¯t attack people. They just killed whatever came through that wasn¡¯t people¡­¡±

    Mark listened to a story of necromancy, forests, and monsters killing monsters, enthralled.

    Eventually the two of them ended up on the couch in the living room, drinking beer and sharing stories of hunting monsters. Mark spoke of becoming a Slayer and his uncles living beyond the woods over there, and about Curtain Protocol now that the two of them were finally outside of it and able to talk properly. Sally talked about the skies of Daihoon, how they were all auroras all the time, and they both had a lot of fun talking about how they were both taller now, and then came talk about the food.

    Sally exclaimed, ¡°They have this magic thing that doesn¡¯t function over here¡ª there¡¯s lots of stuff like that; something about the lack of ambient mana pressure disrupting spellwork¡ª this magic thing that¡¯s like a cooking oven that you can fold up and unfold, and it¡¯s like a box. I ended up carrying it around all the time and I loved it, but it belonged to Arana and it went with her next-of-kin¡­¡± Sally blinked a bit, and then shook her head, banishing the sad thoughts, before she continued, ¡°When we¡¯d camp for the night and after setting up all the wardstones, then I¡¯d take out the food box and whatever game we hunted that day, and stick the meat into the unfolded box, and ten minutes later we¡¯d have¡­ like¡­ the best roasted meat you¡¯ve ever tasted. It was always cooked to perfection, falling off the bone, and just¡­ just so amazing, Mark¡ª and seasoned, too! The food box had different settings! Cajun was a popular one, but also Okuanan was what Arana and Shane loved¡ª That¡¯s just salt, pepper, and some saffron-like flavor. Flowery, almost. Tarek liked boring-old-plain. Gods!¡± Sally stared off into space, asking, ¡°What the fuck was that machine even called? We just called it ¡®the box¡¯¡­¡±

    Sally¡¯s story meandered to different places, and Mark happily came along for the ride¡ª

    ¡°A Prestidigitator! The Presto box! That¡¯s what it was called! It was expensive as fuck and we need to get one when we go to Daihoon.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Eliot might be able to make one. He¡¯s Hearthswellian¡ª Oh, damn. I need to get you signed up to the chat room. Do you know what ¡®Accord¡¯ is?¡±

    Sally shook her head and finished off her seventh beer. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Mark began explaining about Citadel of Freyala Resources, COFR, and about paladin groups on the computer, but Sally yawned when she had to look at a computer screen, so Mark grinned, and said, ¡°Time for bed.¡±

    Sally yawned wider, saying, ¡°Oh yeah. I need to take a shower, too. That shower in there looks amazing.¡±

    Mark hit both of them with a purity/impurity¡ª

    ¡°And that!¡± Sally exclaimed, ¡°That right there! That¡¯s amazing! You can just do that? All the time? ¡­ Wait. I don¡¯t have to piss anymore?¡± Sally eyed Mark. ¡°What?¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°I can also go the other way and make a person piss themselves. Theoretically.¡±

    Sally burst out laughing at the mention of ¡®piss¡¯, before Mark could even finish saying what he was saying.

    Mark tried to be as serious as possible, frowning to force the seriousness, but his frown cracked into a grin several times as he said, ¡°It is a dark and dangerous power, Sally Wuthers, and one I will not use except against the most heinous of foes.¡±

    Sally was laughing all over again. And then she waggled her fingers like she was telling a scary story, and went, ¡°OoooOOooOOOhhh~ Watch out, heroes of the world, Blackvein is gonna take the piss on you!¡±

    They ended up joking for another hour, Mark constantly feeling a small grin on his face, before Sally yawned again. That¡¯s when they called it.

    Mark went to bed with a wall separating him from Sally. Sally¡¯s vector was already lolling, sleep claiming her, the direction of her attention gradually and then rapidly faltering to a small state, pointed inward and outward and in every small direction at once.

    In the morning, they¡¯d go to the nearest Slayer HQ, which was by Northeast Rivergate, or maybe they¡¯d go to the one a bit further and a bit nicer at Riverside, north of central Memphi but south of here, and get Sally signed up as a Slayer and also in the Villain Program, if she felt like doing that, too. The Slayer-thing was certainly happening, but the Villain-thing might not happen.

    Maybe Mark would wake up early and make breakfast for both of them.

    With a soft grin, Mark closed his eyes, feeling good about everything.

    This is what he wanted when he was a kid, when he used to watch heroes fight monsters on the screen, and later on the news. Back then he and Sally had fallen in together as the short kids who wanted to fight the monsters of the world, and now they were here, grown up and in the same house, and preparing to destroy all the obstacles in front of them, and save the world¡­ Or at least a very small part of the world. One step at a time.

    Mark couldn¡¯t wait to get Sally together with Isoko and Eliot.

    ¡­ And now he couldn¡¯t sleep at all.

    Welp! He had a solution to that.

    After one final check on the security system, and seeing nothing untoward, Mark breathed out wakefulness and breathed in sleepiness¡­

    He dozed off with a sigh.

 122

    Mark woke up with a start, because a strange vector was in the hous¡ª

    Oh.

    It was Sally.

    Mark chuckled as he buried his head into the pillow, all comfortable in the warmth of the bed. He stretched, and then he whipped the covers off and hopped out, putting on a shirt fast. He already had a smile on his face as he walked out of his bedroom, making his way to the kitchen fast, cleaning himself up with a breath of purity/impurity on the way.

    The meaty scent of bacon and the bitter warmth of coffee filled the air, while snow held into the corners of the windows and the world outside was deep and white, glittering under the first rays of the day.

    Sally was cooking in her pajamas, looking giant in front of the perfectly normal-sized stove. She turned and said with a smile, ¡°Morning!¡±

    ¡°Morning,¡± Mark said back. ¡°What do you want to do first today?¡±

    Sally nodded as she moved eggs around in the pan, saying, ¡°I have a storage unit I rented that has stuff I need to get, including my weapons. Those things were too big to bring in last night. That¡¯s your car out there, yeah? Can we take it and get my stuff?¡±

    ¡°Sure, we can take the car,¡± Mark said, ¡°But if you got a lot of stuff then there are Slayer services to transport weapon containers around for you. How big are your swords? ¡­ Er. And you might not fit in the car.¡±

    It was not a small car, but it wasn¡¯t overly large, either. It was a beater that Mark had bought for cheap, just because he wanted his own car.

    Sally raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°¡­ They¡¯re just three meters long¡­¡± She paused. She shrugged. ¡°Cars are hard to ride in these days, anyway, so maybe I will do that service. I made breakfast! You want toast, though?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I will take toast.¡± Mark opened up the fridge and got out some flavored creamer to put into his coffee, saying, ¡°Thanks for cooking.¡±

    ¡°Well it¡¯s your food and you told me to make myself at home¡ª¡± She grinned at him, saying, ¡°So I took you up on the offer.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m glad you did!¡± As Mark poured a cup, he continued, ¡°So as for the daaayyy... We can do a bunch of paperwork, if that¡¯s good with you? Slayer signup first? And then you can use their transport service for the weapons¡ª Oh! I need to tell you how the house works, too.¡±

    Sally paused. ¡°I want to sign up for the Slayers, yeah, and for that on-call thing you talked about last night. What do you mean ¡®how the house works¡¯?¡± She had something else to say, but she looked at Mark¡¯s practically tan-colored coffee and laughed. ¡°How much creamer did you put in that!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Enough to cover the bottom of the cup and a bit more than that.¡± Mark sat down at the table with his perfectly good cup of coffee, saying, ¡°I prefer good things in life, thank you very much.¡±

    ¡°But not good cars or clothes. That thing out there is a beater.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°Hey now! It was a good price! And food is different.¡±

    Sally huffed. It was almost a laugh. Then she asked, ¡°First thing¡¯s first: what about money arrangements? As in, am I paying you to rent the house, or is this a government assistance thing, or what¡¯s going on there? That sort of stuff. Who bought this food and how do I repay them, etcetera.¡±

    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± So they were talking about finances? Okay, sure. ¡°Well the house is in my name, and you and Isoko and Eliot are staying here until we move on to Daihoon in a few weeks¡ª or 10 days from now. Might not even be a full two weeks¡ª Anyway. I own the house outright. At the settlement, Eliot is going to be constructing much of the place, so no one is paying for anything right away, and we¡¯ll probably be in fortress housing for a month, since he¡¯s going to make a fortress to start and we spread out from there.

    ¡°We¡¯re each getting individual lots of property to have in our names, in perpetuity, which means forever, but only as long as we retain status as settlers, which is a whole big thing. Eliot will be making houses for everyone who wants one. Some of the nobles are not taking him up on the offer at all because people want to make their own things, by themselves, but Eliot is pretty much the reason why this settlement is happening like it is, and most people are partaking. None of that is costing us money at all, except in taxes, which is some convoluted thing¡­ Anyway. Uh¡­¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure what to say next.

    ¡°Money in the party,¡± Sally contributed. ¡°How about that? Who pays for food and stuff?"

    ¡°Ah! Well¡­ As of right now, we¡¯ve been handing off cooking nights in a rotation and I think I¡¯ve been paying for most of the food. It¡¯s cheap enough at only 125 goldleaf a week. Isoko buys what she makes, though, and Eliot doesn¡¯t pay for anything right now because he¡¯s in training and he¡¯s not getting paid and, like, if that guy has to pay for anything for the rest of his life at the settlement then some people are in for a rude time. I think he¡¯s getting a 100% lifetime discount on normal services, but really, I think the city will be giving him a charge card without a limit, and the city will pay for whatever he wants.

    ¡°Isoko and I are the ones bringing in most of the money for the party¡­ But there is no ¡®the money¡¯, I guess, because we all keep our finances separate. We have been talking about a party fund, though¡­ Which is something we need to revisit.¡±

    As Mark spoke, Sally finished cooking the eggs. She started plating the meals and then she handed Mark a plate overloaded with bacon, eggs, and a few pieces of toast, while she got a pile three times as large.

    Sally sat down, and asked, ¡°There¡¯s no accountant, then? No party fund manager?¡±

    ¡°Uh. No? Do we need one?¡±

    Sally seemed like she had expected that sort of answer. She asked, ¡°You said last night that the house is warded from casual conversation, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said, seeming more concerned by the second. ¡°I fully expect Addavein and any other high powered people to be able to pierce it, though. If they want. Eliot can do some good baseline stuff with his Castellan, but he doesn¡¯t have the full suite of powers of the original Hearthswell. He can basically just tier up stuff to tier 3 right now and do a few other tricks.¡±

    Sally nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± She said, ¡°You¡¯re fucking rich as fuck, Mark. Eliot is, too, by the look of it. You need an accountant and he does too. But mostly, the party needs an accountant.¡±

    Mark had been prepared for this conversation. ¡°I am not rich at all, actually. I am never going to sell the adamantium. I don¡¯t want to get into that life.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that sounds like you.¡± Sally took a moment, then she said, ¡°You and I both grew up poor. We don¡¯t know what to do with real money except hoard it, I guess. That¡¯s your current plan, yeah? Well that is, quite honestly, dumb. You can do a lot with money.¡± Sally stuck a fork in her eggs, saying, ¡°Artifacts, enchanted junk, high tech. Weapons. And that¡¯s just the personal stuff. You can use that money to make more money, too, and that¡¯s not even mentioning the benefits. Money means you can buy or make a restaurant and go there for lunch and they¡¯ll have exactly what you want on the menu. Of course you have to manage the place all well so it can float on its own, but that¡¯s what it means to be rich. From what I see around me, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re doing enough with what you have.¡±

    Mark sat dumbfounded.

    Sally started eating breakfast.

    Mark started eating, too. Eventually, a few bites in, he asked, ¡°Where¡¯s all this coming from?¡±

    ¡°My eyes were opened on Daihoon.

    ¡°Tarek, one of my former teammates, spent all of the money from his stuff on making an apartment complex in Harbordock and a restaurant across the way. His Skill¡ª They call them Skills on Daihoon, not ¡®Power¡¯. His Skill was Pathfinder. He was our scout, and he was a damned good scout, but he wanted multiple backup systems in case his team dissolved¡­ which¡­ you know. Happened. He wanted to become a noble, so he spent all of his money on expanding Harbordock, and that turned out to be prudent.¡± Sally said, ¡°I think I really liked that whole idea, because the party dissolved hard and yet Tarek has a backup. So I¡¯m going to do that with the money I make from this venture, and I think you should consider doing the same thing.¡± Sally finished with, ¡°I want to land on soft ground when the world turns to a storm.¡±

    Mark went back to eating, as he thought.

    Sally went back to eating, too.

    ¡°¡­ There¡¯s a lot there,¡± Mark started off with, just because he didn¡¯t know what to say after hearing Sally¡¯s pitch. She seemed to feel strongly about this whole¡­ thing, she was talking about. And there was a certain appeal to becoming rich enough to know that you¡¯d land on soft ground no matter what the future held, but Mark wanted to kill monsters, not manage apartment complexes. And yet, Mark deflected. ¡°There¡¯s a lot there and I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that¡­ stuff, but I do know that Eliot is going to be doing a lot of building. I¡¯ll get you two together¡ª You want to be a noble?¡± Mark latched on to that one word in Sally¡¯s talk of her former teammate, and continued, ¡°Like, to rule over people?¡±

    ¡°Some nobles are like that, yes, but most nobles are just in charge of properties and they make sure that the people living there can live their lives and work together well.¡± Sally smirked as she added, ¡°Think of a good noble as the head of a union. We talk to the city based on the needs of our people, and stuff like that.¡±

    Mark extrapolated a few things, and asked, ¡°Do you want to be in charge of a party fund?¡±

    ¡°Oh gods no. Never.¡± Sally shook her head, the mirth leaving her face. ¡°You¡¯re going to be dealing with millions of goldleaf right away, Mark. I am not qualified for that. You need a real accountant. Someone who you can trust who has done this for years. Maybe even someone in the adamantium business who can sell the stuff for you. If you just¡­ just make adamantium, like some sort of mithrilkinetic, then you¡¯re probably going to get classified as a protected resource by the settlement and they might just force an accountant on you so that they can keep track of monies flowing however they flow.¡±

    Mark frowned a little. He repeated, ¡°I¡¯m not selling it. It¡¯s weaponry. If I¡¯m doing anything with it except using it, I¡¯m trading it for favors. I have one favor system set up with Archmage Blackthorn, like I said last night¡­¡± Mark paused, because Sally¡¯s face turned to a stone mask. Anger bubbled up in her vector, but she remained quiet. Warily, Mark continued, ¡°I expect that someone high up will find out what I can do and then ask me or coerce me into giving them metals, too.¡±

    Sally controlled her features for as long as she could, which was not long at all. And then her face contorted into fury, her vector turning into something hateful. She opened her mouth to say something, but she cut herself off.

    She got up and walked away, saying, ¡°I need a moment.¡±

    Her food sat steaming on her plate.

    Mark remained seated, the entirety of his world in disarray. He had told Sally a little bit about Blackthorn last night and she had gotten a weird look on her face back then, but she hadn¡¯t said anything. And yet today, she was furious? What had happened?

    ¡­ Did she not want to start a fight last night?

    Oh. That was exactly it, wasn¡¯t it.

    She hadn¡¯t wanted to start a fight at night. But today was okay for a fight¡ª

    Oh gods, she was being political around Mark, wasn¡¯t she. Mark didn¡¯t want that! What the fuck! They used to talk about everything and get mad at each other all the time, and then they went right back to being best friends. But this¡­ This seemed different. Worse than the time they tried dating and kissing and neither of them liked it so they lashed out at each other, wondering why it wasn¡¯t some magical, beautiful moment for either of them to kiss each other. Their spars got vicious for a whole month¡ª

    Sally came right back and sat down, her countenance solid, her face calm. After yet another tense moment, she asked, ¡°Why are you dealing with another archmage? Did the first one not ruin¡ª¡± Some anger slipped through her mask. She started over. ¡°Mages are full of demons and they¡¯re dangerous to be around. They¡¯re always on the precipice of Falling. Every single one of them. You should not talk to archmages, or even mages, for that matter.¡±

    ¡­ The fuck was she on about? Yes, Mark knew that. Of course he knew that. Did Sally think he was stupid? Sally¡¯s family was completely fine! What the FUCK does she have to be mad about! Mark was the one with the dead parents! FUCK HER¡ª

    Mark felt outside of himself.

    In an offhand way, he felt black veins crawl out of his body, into the air, beating in time to his heart.

    Sally noticed most of Mark¡¯s anger; Mark was sure.

    Mark said nothing.

    Sally spoke with a stronger voice, ¡°The only truth in life is that it''s humans against the world, and sometimes some of those humans are a danger to the rest. Mages are among those who are a danger to us all. In the past, we needed their power to protect civilization, but that magic was always a demon¡¯s bargain and it always ended badly.

    ¡°Archmages don¡¯t die. They Fall at the end of their life. That is chief among the reasons why demons grant them immortality, for when they die, they Fall, Mark. But that¡¯s just the archmages. Normal mages are a problem too.

    ¡°Monsterization, Falling to demons through pure stupidity and no real Contract, unintended accidents in classrooms when someone blows off the head of a friend when all they were trying to do was show off a cleaning spell. And that¡¯s not even getting into the magic itself. Mind Control, erasure, horror upon horror!

    ¡°Magic and magery was a tool humanity used for a long time, and it should be respected for that reason alone, but we have better tools now. The System, taken in hand by a caring god, Malaqua. Paladins. Superheroes and yes, even supervillains.¡± Sally stared. ¡°But you¡¯re being tempted to learn magic, aren¡¯t you.¡±

    It had become a very serious breakfast, with Sally saying serious things as though she had practiced them for a while. Maybe she had been practicing.

    Mark took a moment, then said, ¡°I have an avalanche of responsibility, Sally. I need to know everything that was denied to me ¡ªto us¡ª under Curtain Protocol. And yes, that includes magic.¡±

    Sally couldn¡¯t contain her fury. She roared, ¡°Demon contractors are bombs waiting to go off, and you already set one off! You destroyed half of Orange City!¡± Sally spat, ¡°Why not just go suck Thrashtalon off for gains, too!¡±

    And that was too much.

    Mark walked away and went to his room.

    He shut the door, sat down, and then he questioned his entire life, his friendship with Sally, and everything between. Sally sat out there at the breakfast table for a long while¡ª

    She walked this way.

    Knock knock.

    ¡°You took a moment!¡± Mark yelled, ¡°So I¡¯m taking a moment, too!¡±

    Sally remained outside but her voice did not. ¡°What is your opinion on demons?¡±

    Mark was slamming open the door before he realized he had done that. It dented the wall. He glared up at Sally, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t need to defend my actions to you, or anyone. I was used. I got a lot out of it, but I was used. And so help me all the gods of the entire Pantheon¡­¡± He breathed. ¡°I need you to take a step back with whatever anger you have over archmages and me.¡±

    ¡°I am not angry at you, Mark.¡± Sally took a breath, too, then said, ¡°And I¡¯m not just an acolyte of Drakarok. I¡¯m on the paladin track to become a killer of demon mages, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Good!¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Sally stared for a moment, her face scrunching a little, as though she was surprised to hear Mark say that.

    Mark scoffed, and then he laughed. ¡°Holy fuck. I was hurt a lot more than you. Of course I¡¯m damned angry at archmages! And at Addavein! And at a lot of what happened! Of course the only way an archmage dies is through Falling! I know that now...¡± Mark was not in the proper place to talk about this like this, so the words just tumbled. ¡°I¡¯m furious about all of that! And about being a strategic resource and¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re rich as gods, Mark. You came out¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you dare say that I came out of that well off then I will hate you forever.¡±

    Did Mark mean that?

    Did he mean any of this? Did Sally?

    Was Sally just mad, too?

    Sally stared. ¡°You know what they¡¯re saying about you on Daihoon? That you bargained with demons and came out one of the best examples of what is required to make the world a better place. That more people should try to do what you did. That they can¡¯t wait until you make a Contract with Leash¡ª¡±

    ¡°FUCK. YOU.¡±

    Black veins vibrated out of Mark, into the world, like a thousand black tendrils, the world seeming to thrum with Mark as center of power. His heart beat the world. Thump. Thump. Thump.

    They had moved into the hallway in the last however-long. Had Mark pushed Sally back? Had Sally retreated? Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Mark¡¯s veins crackled into the wood of the floor and the walls.

    Sally stood, daring.

    And then Mark noticed that her hands were fists, her stance set. She was ready for a fight, and Mark hated her for that. What the fuck happened to her? Mark had thought that they were good. That they had finally gotten back together and everything was going to be great from now on. But no. That¡¯s not what happened at all. Her vector was pointed at Mark with sorrow, though.

    Pain. Fury. Loss of hope.

    Mark¡¯s voice cracked, his veins pulling back, ¡°I will never Contract with a demon. But I need power because I have big goals.¡±

    Sally did not relax. She said, ¡°I heard everything the demon told you. Everyone has, Mark. And what I heard on Daihoon was a lot worse than what I heard when I came here to Memphi and found out the truth. I heard of the temptations of Leash. And just now you talked about actually going after that shit, that resurrection magic. I was so surprised when you talked about it! You know what I thought when I heard that story of you and Leash? And Mary Getty, the woman you destroyed?

    ¡°I thought that her involvement with Thrashtalon and the demons mirrored your own journey to Addashield. Both of you went to the powers you knew about, looking for power, and both of you got power. Both of those stories ended up in tragedies.

    ¡°And just now, you talked about meeting with Blackthorn. Another archmage. Another connection to the demons. You talked about him last night, but I let it go. But I can¡¯t let it go anymore.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see? Every single step you take down that path is one more step toward you making a Contract. How many of those steps did you take yourself? How many were taken for you? You¡¯re outside of direct observation right now, but you still meet with the paladins that were charged with killing you if you stepped out of line. You think they truly stopped judging you? You told me last night that you still met with Inquisitor Lola and David and that other one. Orissa. You¡¯re still under observation, because you need to be under observation.

    ¡°You know who I met with before Christmas?

    ¡°High Priestess Kendrai Redwolf, in Wolf Bayou. It was at the behest of Drakarok. Redwolf had a lot to say about you, about how close you are to Falling yourself.¡± Sally teared up, even though she was still furious.

    Mark was still furious, too, but at seeing tears in Sally¡¯s eyes and hearing ¡®Redwolf¡¯, Mark¡¯s own anger broke. His anger turned to worry.

    Sally shuddered as she said, ¡°You¡¯re being pushed into darkness and you don¡¯t have enough connections to the light.¡±

    Sally stood resolute, as though she knew all the answers to everything.

    Mark stood dumbfounded that Sally would think this poorly of him.

    Mark began, ¡°Do you think I can¡¯t navigate all this shit, Sally? Beca¡ª¡±

    ¡°No one can, Mark. No one can navigate the War for Life on their own.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Because I can¡¯t, and I know that. So I have friends! I tell them what¡¯s happening in my life and they talk to me, too. You¡¯re the only person in my life who hasn¡¯t¡­¡± Mark took a breath. ¡°You¡¯re angry at me because you¡¯re scared, but you haven¡¯t been here, so everything is new to you, and I¡¯m pretty sure that you¡¯ve been lying to me about a WHOLE FUCKING LOT, SALLY. So take a fucking step back and reevaluate your approach. Some fucking ¡®savior high dragon¡¯ claimed me as his fucking brother, and it¡¯s been hard adjusting¡ª¡± Mark cut himself off there, his throat tensing. No more words would come out.

    Sally shuddered again, tears freely flowing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t here. I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡±

    Her words cut off, too.

    She stepped back. She went into the dining room.

    After a moment of breathing out miasma, Mark followed.

    Sally was back at the table, eating. ¡°Better eat it before it gets cold.¡±

    ¡­ Mark sat down and started eating. The eggs were mush in his mouth and the bacon got chewed, tasteless, and then swallowed. The coffee was too bitter, even with all the cream in it, and now it was cold. Everything was cold¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I wasn¡¯t here,¡± Sally said.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you show up anywhere, Sally? Not at Citadel, which I can kinda understand why, but not here at Memphi, either. We talked, but weeks went by sometimes between the messages I sent you. I know they were received either right after I sent them, or within a day, but you didn¡¯t respond for weeks.¡± Mark asked the question he didn¡¯t want to ask, ¡°Do you hate me?¡±

    Sally didn¡¯t say ¡®no¡¯ right away.

    Mark¡¯s heart sunk¡ª

    Sally softly said, ¡°I have always been jealous of you, and loved you, and I have never hated you, and if you were straight and I was too, then that one time we tried dating in middle school never would have ended. So no, I don¡¯t hate you, Mark. I love you, and¡­ I don¡¯t hate you.¡± Sally said, ¡°But I am furious that you¡¯re still interacting with archmages and¡­ and I can see why you would want to do that. But in a much deeper way I¡­ I¡¯m mad that you¡¯re not planning on using your adamantium in the best way possible. You should be overseeing an economic empire, Mark. You should become a high noble, at least! FUCK HUNTING. You could be a billionaire within a year. Do you realize how much a billion actually is? You could do so much more than hunting! And you need to do more than hunting, Mark, because if you¡¯re not economically strong then you¡¯re going to be used by the nobles of Daihoon¡­ But you¡¯re right. I wasn¡¯t here. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Sally said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡­ I took so long to answer your letters, too. I just got¡­ A lot happened, Mark. Always. Stuff happened all the time. I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve lied to you about so much. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Mark looked at Sally, and saw hurt. He saw a lot.

    ¡°I love you, too,¡± Mark said.

    Moments passed¡­

    Mark tried not to think about how Sally had been lying to him about her entire time on Daihoon.

    Maybe not the smaller parts, about how she went hunting with her team and how her friends all moved on when Arana was killed by¡­ by something Sally had not said, yet, which was concerning... And all the major parts of her story were lies. Just now she had claimed to be a paladin of Drakarok. Mark had thought she was just an acolyte, and she had said as much days ago. And she had met with Redwolf? Holy shit, she was in deep, wasn¡¯t she. She was going to be an Inquisitor, too. That¡¯s what she meant by ¡®killer of demon mages¡¯¡ª

    No. Not just an Inquisitor.

    Sometimes Inquisitors were just paper pushers and investigators and they didn¡¯t carry out the declarations of the gods themselves. There was another category of Chosen that Mark hadn¡¯t heard of very much, because they were illegal on Earth, because they were the main arm of the Church of Drakarok.

    The Executioners.

    Sally was going to become an Executioner of Drakarok.

    That¡¯s what she wanted.

    Why would she ever want that?

    Slowly, carefully, Mark asked, ¡°What happened to you out there, Sally? Not the lies you told me¡­ all of the last year. I had thought you were in a team that was doing well. I get that Arana died, but¡­¡± Another thought occurred. A paranoid thought, for sure, but Mark was sure that Sally had a reason for doing what she had done, and how it had all gone down. Mark said, ¡°I had thought that I would need to work hard to convince you to come here and be a part of my team, our team, as a part of the settlement project¡­ But you came fast. And then you talked about money like we¡¯re both not going to be incredibly wealthy hunting monsters, as long as we don¡¯t die, and now I¡¯m wondering why. Why did you come here so quickly? What is chasing you, Sally?¡±

    Sally held herself still. Silent. She looked to the side, not willing to meet Mark¡¯s gaze.

    Mark repeated, ¡°What happened out there? And don¡¯t lie to me anymore. Please.¡±

    Sally went back to eating breakfast.

    Mark finished off his food before she did, but Sally finished soon enough.

    The two of them sat at the table for a while longer.

    With a sudden nonchalance that was completely out of place, and an unremarked tear falling from an eye, Sally said, ¡°To make a long horror story short, about four months ago, while you were at Citadel, a mage noble at Harbordock found out that I was connected to you. I had thought I had kept myself rather quiet, and no one on my team spilled my connections to anyone else. I certainly didn¡¯t look the same as Sally Wuthers of the previous year. I eventually found out how he discovered me and targeted me, but at the time¡­ I was hidden, as much as a person could be hidden.

    ¡°I did not discover the noble¡¯s subterfuge until three months later, well after the mage noble had dug us deep into some predatory loans for gear¡­ He was the enchanter I was hiring to make my armor that never happened. It was complicated and I fucked up on agreeing to contracts that I thought I could manage, but I couldn¡¯t manage them at all because the work dried up, which is something that happens. I found that out the hard way, too. Work dries up sometimes. Tarek knew that, though. When you have money and work, you have to build a stable house with the money you have while you can, and then let it get you through the lean times¡­ But anyway.

    ¡°The noble had been summoning demons in secret his whole life to find out the secrets of magic. He was not an archmage and he wasn¡¯t willing to do that, but he was trading demons for secrets. He did spying, and he gave them information, and they gave him spellwork in return. But he had racked up debts, because the demons had tricked him into predatory loans, too. He had racked up debts of his own, and some demons sold his debt to another demon.

    ¡°You know the demon that bought his debts.

    ¡°The demon Leash.

    ¡°The mage guy¡­¡± Sally glared at nothing. Her voice was solid as she named, ¡°Alonkai Firesteel of House Firehearth. Alonkai finished my armor and called us in to celebrate the finish, even though I couldn¡¯t afford it anymore. He was going to loan it to me on credit and more contracts. I was going to say no, but we were his retainers, so we went to the party anyway¡­ It was all so slick, Mark. The guy acted nice all the time. He wanted to do nice things for us, which was normal for him. He was¡­ he was slick, Mark. But of course he was.

    ¡°The armor was gorgeous.

    ¡°I tried it on at Alonkai¡¯s insistent request. The demon Leash had been imbued into the armor. He showed when I was fully encased and turned the armor into a spike-filled shell, trying to force me to tell him things about you. He was limited in what he could do in the armor and¡­ and it was still not pretty.

    ¡°Arana saved me by damning herself. Somehow she got Leash to leave me by taking a Contract with the demon¡­ and¡­ And I killed her, and Shane, a pyrokinetic, destroyed the body while Leash was still reforming, and I killed the noble, next. Leash went away, somehow. Upon hearing what he did in Wolf Bayou, I think I better understand what happened back then. I think I manifested Drakarok in that moment, or he descended to me. I became a full paladin¡­ And Drakarok killed the demon, the mage, and destroyed most of the manor.

    ¡°It was not a good day for a lot of people.

    ¡°I spent a week in a holding cell before Drakarok¡¯s clergy cleared me of wrongdoing. And then I came back to Orange City. That was three weeks ago.

    ¡°I was in Orange City the last two weeks, checking out the former homestead and catching up with some cousins who lived at the north end, and...¡± Sally wiped away the tears flowing down her face.

    She ended the story there.

    Quietly, unsure of anything at all, Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry that happened to you.¡±

    Sally nervously chuckled and her chuckle turned into a cry. ¡°I loved her so much, Mark.¡± She held her hands up. ¡°I still feel her blood on my hands sometimes.¡± She started sobbing.

    Mark went to Sally and held her and she cried onto his chest, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure what else happened for the next hour, except they ended up sitting on the couch while Sally told stories of Daihoon, and of her former team. She had only been with them for 8 months, but that was more than enough to truly care about them. Mark was pretty sure she was still lying about small things, and maybe some big things, too, but that didn¡¯t really matter.

    After the tears were done, came silence.

    Sally said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be sad anymore.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty lofty goal, Sally. All I want to do is resurrect people.¡±

    Sally stared for a moment, and then she burst out laughing.

    Mark smiled. Sally laughed more, and something hurtful broke, releasing a flood of joy, for some reason. Pain turned to past-tense, at least for a little while, and Mark chuckled, too.

    Soon, Sally asked, ¡°Popcorn and funny movies?¡±

    Mark breathlessly said, ¡°Yes.¡±

    Sally sat up and grabbed the remote.

    They didn¡¯t get a damned thing done all day long, and that was just fine by both of them.

 123

    Sitting down to eat, Mark kinda felt like a kid at a high table. His feet barely touched the floor, which was strange for him, but altogether how it used to be, back before he got Healthy Body and gained almost a full foot of height. He might have been big for a person, but he wasn¡¯t nearly as big as Sally or the other guys and girls in this joint.

    This was a place for giants.

    Sally looked right at home, sitting at a table that was fully sized for her, and sized for all the other giants walking around the place. Sally¡¯s eyes sparkled as she looked at the menu and at the big plates of food held on massive hands as the Giant Strength-having waiter walked by, food sizzling.

    Sally confessed to Mark, ¡°There was a place like this in Crytalis that I didn¡¯t get to eat at before I met my team and we moved on to Harbordock over by Okuana. There just aren¡¯t enough big people to make it work.¡±

    Mark looked over and saw one big table was filled with normal-sized people, seven of them, sharing three sandwiches and sides cut up into smaller portions. There didn¡¯t seem to be a big enough giant population here, either, but¡­ Mark said, ¡°I guess there¡¯s a big enough want here?¡±

    And then the waiter showed up and smiled brightly at Sally and glanced at Mark, asking, ¡°What can I get you t¡ª Holy fuck.¡± The guy stared at Mark, and then his face went red with embarrassment. ¡°Sorry, sorry. Uh. What can I get you, two, uh, Brother Blackvein, and guest?¡±

    Ah. Mark had been made.

    Not an altogether unexpected development. He had been noticed several times today already.

    But this was the first time that Sally got to see this happen.

    Sally had a surreal moment. She sat there, blinking, her mouth open to say something but her words dead in her throat. She made a little frog-like noise, and then she shut her mouth.

    Mark grinned and said, ¡°I think I¡¯ll have the patty melt, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Full size patty melt!¡± The guy smiled a whole lot as he tapped away at his pad, and then he asked Sally, ¡°And for you?¡±

    Mark meant to say ¡®half-size¡¯, but he could eat¡­ sure. Sally could eat whatever he didn¡¯t eat, anyway.

    Sally was still having a moment.

    The waiter asked her, ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡±

    In a rapid, awkward sort of way, Sally confessed, ¡°I¡¯ll have, uh, the same.¡±

    The guy smiled and nodded, and then said, ¡°Drinks are over there by the counter. I¡¯ll get your food right out to you!¡±

    - -

    A while later, after Mark had eaten half of his food and Sally had had the rest, they were at another store, looking at AI housing for Mark, for Quark. The store mostly left Sally and Mark alone.

    In a quiet moment, after the salesman left, Sally asked, ¡°Does that happen¡­ a lot?¡±

    Mark knew exactly what she was talking about, but he just smiled and asked, ¡°What?¡±

    Sally¡¯s face was a little red. ¡°You know damned well ¡®what¡¯.¡±

    Mark smiled and teased her, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean.¡±

    Sally straightened up and put away her embarrassment. ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t answer me.¡±

    ¡°Ohhh! You mean being recognized? Yes. A lot. It¡¯s the hair and eyes. I have been thinking about bleaching my hair, but then I chicken out. The eyes just are what they are.¡±

    Sally breathed deeply. ¡°¡­ Right.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s taken some getting used to, and I am still not used to it, but I¡¯ve only really encountered that one Mind Controller who tried to murder me. She didn¡¯t recognize me until after that all went down, though.¡± Mark casually said, ¡°But there have been 16 people so far today that have thought about jumping me. One time, two months ago, a speedster tried to come through and take some adamantium and they got their hand ripped apart instead. I put that guy down onto the ground as I healed him and waited for the cops to show. That guy rapidly figured out who I was when he woke up, and he voluntarily went into a rehab facility.¡± Mark waved a hand. ¡°All stuff barely worth mentioning, really.¡±

    Sally stared at the merchandise behind the wall of glass, but she wasn¡¯t really looking at the AI housing at all. ¡°¡­ Uh huh.¡±

    - -

    Mark balanced a spear in his hands. His feet were firm upon the concrete ground, the lights high above buzzing slightly. He stood in the testing area of a weapons shop; an open lot behind the store, but boxed in to protect it from the elements.

    Sally stood to the side, along with the vendor, who was a young woman in her thirties who was literally a quarter of the size of Sally. Sally was a giant woman, and it would probably take Mark a while to come to terms with how much she had changed. Mark had changed, too, but not nearly as much¡­ physically, anyway.

    Mark focused on the spear.

    He twisted the weapon in his grip, feeling the heft of it all. It was a pretty standard spear, with the head shaped like a leaf and a pair of catches on the sides to prevent the weapon from going in too far. It could cut, if you were careful with it. Mostly it stabbed and the enemy bled to death, which was how Mark killed the hard-to-kill things. The metal part of the spear only extended about 30 centimeters from the tip, encasing the wood in a no-nonsense kind of way. There was no adornment. This was a working weapon. It wasn¡¯t high tier at all, and it wasn¡¯t really the weapon that was for sale. It was a model; indicative of the real weapon that the vendor could make, if Mark commissioned its creation.

    He could buy this one if he wanted it, though.

    Mark liked the look of the spear; the quality of the woman¡¯s craft. The woman had a Knack for Joining, which was kind of a weird Knack, but not that weird. It allowed the vendor to make multiple things come together to form one thing, very well, and she was very good with her Knack.

    He spun the spear a few times and then jabbed and feinted against an imaginary opponent, twisting out of an imaginary lunge, the weapon an extension of his body that he swept in the opposite direction of his movement, as though he was pushing something that had gotten too close; redirecting its forward momentum away from his core. He finished the movement. He stabbed the air a few times.

    And then Mark just stood there, holding the thing, looking at it. The weapon had no ornamentation, but it did have some etchings in the shaft and the head. That¡¯s where the alchemical silver would flow and catch, temporarily raising the weapon up to tier 5-ish, depending on the freshness of the silver and the capability of the alchemist who made the silver. But even if you had a really good batch of alchemical silver, as soon as you cracked the seal on one of those pots you sometimes had 15 hours, or 5 hours, before it degraded, and it was near impossible to know which timeframe you got.

    Sometimes you got a coating of silver that lasted weeks, for some bizarre reasons. Mark had never had that happen to him, but it had happened to other people. Those people usually sold the silvered weapons to an alchemist or other buyer, so that those alchemists could figure out why the silver lasted that long.

    Or at least those were the rumors around alchemical silver.

    Mark looked at the spear in his hands and asked, ¡°What sort of PL could I get out of a commissioned weapon?¡±

    The vendor explained, ¡°Depending on how much you want to spend, I can get materials up to PL 30. I do have models ready for sale today, if you want. I can hand you a spear just like that one in your hands made of softwood and softsteel, which is PL 18. If you want something heavier, then there¡¯s emberbranch and blacksteel. Alchemical silver will take you the rest of the way to PL 50-ish.¡±

    ¡°How much is a blacksteel spear?¡±

    ¡°2990 leaf.¡±

    Mark stared at the weapon in his hands, and then he said, ¡°I want to see the blacksteel one.¡±

    The woman nodded.

    Mark didn¡¯t end up buying that one.

    - -

    On the road, Sally asked, ¡°You looked like you really wanted it, though?¡±

    Mark took a moment to think about why he didn¡¯t buy the spear, and then he said, ¡°I want to learn how to forge. I was once told that no one would want a weapon forged from someone with just a Talent for metalshaping, and that kinda stuck with me.¡± Mark glanced up at Sally, adding, ¡°And what you said about attaching electronics to mana crystals to make magic got stuck in my head, too. That seems neat, and all of that is probably connected.¡±

    Sally looked at the sky a little as they walked, her thoughts somewhere else for a moment, as she said, ¡°You have to deal with mages to get the crystals, but that¡¯s not so bad.¡±

    Mark was suddenly aware of the fact that he knew where the mana crystals came from, and Sally did not. People monsterized when they cultivated crystals improperly, though, so¡­ Mark would not tell Sally about that. Not yet, anyway. She might try cultivating her own ¡®giant strength¡¯ mana, whatever that might be¡­ And now that Mark was thinking about it, what was ¡®Giant Strength¡¯ mana made of? Surely it wasn¡¯t just¡­ ¡®Giant Strength¡¯?

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m sure mana crystals can¡¯t be that hard to get.¡±

    Sally seemed to agree with that, because she nodded as she said, ¡°The hardest problem I had was finding a crafter for a few things I wanted, like always-clean underwear and dry socks. Everywhere I went, all the stores were always out of stuff in my size.¡±

    Mark started laughing. ¡°Couldn¡¯t find any big girl panties, huh?¡±

    ¡°No, I couldn¡¯t!¡± Sally said, with mirth. ¡°I went through all ten pairs I bought in Crytalis because I fucked up my Tactile Tel¡ª¡± She shut her mouth and glanced around.

    Mark raised an eyebrow¡ª ¡°Ah.¡± He understood. Mark said, ¡°Curtain Protocol isn¡¯t in effect here. This is a hero district.¡±

    ¡°Old habits, I guess. Being with the family kinda¡­ It was like a splash of cold water, with the younger cousins there. It was a question if I should even show up to the family Christmas, you know?¡±

    ¡°I can imagine. I don¡¯t think we ever saw any Giant Strength people at Gladegrove at all. Maybe like how we didn¡¯t see any people with any weird features¡­ like at all.¡± Mark added, ¡°I¡¯m glad you managed to see them.¡±

    ¡°Me, too. I¡¯m never going back under Curtain Protocol if I can help it. That shit¡­ I got hives after being on Daihoon for a month because I was so damned nervous about everything. They just have people flying through the sky there and signs on the walls that tell people to stay clear of the middle lanes of traffic because some speedster is gonna come through and you need to get out of the way unless you¡¯re rated at PL 80 or above. The numbers are just out in the open over there, Mark. I saw a whole family that was permanently on fire! That was their Power. Permafire¡­¡± Her voice drifted away. Sally quietly said, ¡°I wish you could have been there. You were in the coma.¡±

    Mark smiled softly. ¡°I wish I could have been there, too.¡±

    He would have just been a fucking brawny, though, if he hadn¡¯t met Addashield, and then he never would have been able to party with Sally at all. If you asked Mark, then Sally was the one who truly lucked out. Giant Strength was big time Power!

    Mark didn¡¯t say that, though¡­ and even having that thought felt kinda¡­ weird, to have.

    Hmm.

    Mark changed the subject, saying, ¡°And if you, as a hunter, make and spent 500k at the settlement then you get a million points, and you can spend those points on an obsidian card, which gets you a lifetime 25% off at all Artificer¡¯s Guild locations, which is, you know, the big magic item making conglomerate. So that¡¯s why I don¡¯t want to spend too much right now.¡±

    Sally¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Holy fuck, that¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s a big deal!¡±

    ¡°Yeah it is! And...¡±

    The conversation meandered.

    - -

    The tram bumped as it shifted tracks, and then it settled down onto the rail.

    Mark sat with Sally at the back of the vehicle. They were mostly alone, so theoretically they could have talked about anything, but a small sign over the doors to the tram had the words ¡®Curtain Protocol is In Effect¡¯ in big white letters on a black background.

    Sally asked, ¡°So you want to be a metalsmith and enchanter and a team leader?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I do,¡± Mark said, ¡°The team-leader-thing is a bit of an open question right now, but I end up leading more often than not, though I try not to actually¡­ make a point of it.¡±

    Sally snorted. ¡°Yeah. That sounds like you.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°And maybe even a mage, too, but I have reason to suspect that might be too difficult.¡±

    Adamantium blooded people were taught to condense adamant mana and not how to use their adamant mana at all, because, unless Mark had misunderstood Blackthorn, an adamantium blooded person couldn¡¯t really keep around extra mana in a useable, mana-based state. Adamant always turned to metal. So if Mark wanted to be a mage, he would be a mage without any extra mana hanging around, and that seemed¡­ not good? Mark didn¡¯t know what that meant, exactly, but it seemed bad. Plus, he already had three Talents. Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union, were probably already taking up a great deal of ¡®space¡¯ in his soul.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Sally said, ¡°Give me paperwork all day long. That¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do when I¡¯m not killing shit.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to do that acquired-noble-title thing, huh? Can you truly buy a title?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s harder to buy nobility than getting a title granted to you by the city lord through, like, meritorious service, but it is eminently doable. No righteous city leader gives a shit if you have a lot of money, and if they do care about that more than service then they¡¯re not a good leader. That¡¯s how Arana¡¯s original home fell. It¡¯s a lesson that is learned a lot of times. But! If you have a lot of money you can become an outsized net positive, larger than the other net positives around you. That is how you ¡®buy¡¯ a noble title; you don¡¯t actually buy it at all.¡± Sally shrugged. ¡°At least that¡¯s what I heard, and saw in action.¡±

    Mark thought.

    He did not want to go down that route, but he probably had to, at least a little.

    Mark asked, ¡°Do you think I need to do that, too?¡±

    ¡°Yes. If you¡¯re not in charge of your own future, then other people are in charge of your future and you might not like what they decide for you.¡±

    Mark felt floored. He said, ¡°I absolutely agree.¡±

    Sally smirked.

    - -

    The sun was an hour from setting, and Mark and Sally got sight of the house.

    Mark gestured at a big box sitting in the driveway. ¡°And that must be your weaponry!¡±

    ¡°Must be!¡± Sally said, walking up first and then checking the package over. She grabbed at a slip of paper in a plastic pocket and started reading.

    Mark left her to it and walked up the driveway, toward the house, saying, ¡°I¡¯m gonna decrease my threshold for an emergency call in the hopes of getting a call for a hunt. You want to join up? There''s always some emergency somewhere.¡±

    Sally grabbed the edge of the box and ripped it open as though she was opening a lid, and not ripping long nails up as she pried the wood open. The sound was incredible, screeching like the world¡¯s oldest door hinge, but just for a moment, and then the lid clattered to the driveway. Sally said to Mark, ¡°Fuck yeah I want to go for a hunt!¡±

    And then she pulled a ¡®kaiju blade¡¯ out of the box, smiling wide.

    It was 3 meters long, with another meter of handle. The blade was thick as a thigh and dark grey, while the handle was similarly colored. There was no leather or wooden grip on that thing. It was full steel, or probably some other metal. Or maybe not. Sally had the strength modifier to allow her to use a plain steel weapon and not worry about the metal breaking, as long as she kept her TT up and active. So the sword wasn¡¯t a kaiju blade, not really. It was just shaped like one.

    She held the sword in one hand like it weighed nothing at all, swishing it left and right and making the air thrum as she moved. Mark was absolutely sure that weapon weighed at least 100 kilos. She was focused on supporting herself on the ground itself, to hold onto the ground, to swing that metal around like that. Her vector was very well balanced, showing exactly how much she controlled her Tactile Telekinesis as she moved. It was quite magical, really. There was so much happening behind the scenes that most people would never be able to appreciate.

    But Mark could appreciate all of the work that Sally was doing.

    And then Sally pulled another sword, same as the first, out of the box. She clanged them together overhead and then rested one on her shoulder while the other she held casually, smiling. She looked at Mark, practically begging him to say something nice.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m impressed, yes.¡±

    And he was.

    ¡°Good! You should be! Dual wielding these things is not an easy task!¡±

    Mark took one breath, and then he ignored the house and hurried to Sally, making grabby hands as he said, ¡°Let me hold one!¡±

    Sally laughed and handed him one of the swords.

    The whole thing almost dropped out of Mark¡¯s hands and straight onto the ground with a massive CLANG! and then a series of fast vibrations down the whole length of metal as it bounced once, before settling on the concrete driveway with a smack. A chip of concrete flew away and Sally laughed loud as Mark called out a ¡®Whoops!¡¯ and tried to pick it up again.

    - -

    Three pizza boxes sat open, with only two slices remaining in the last box. It was mushroom and olive, and Sally loved it, but Sally was full. Mark wasn¡¯t touching that flavor, though he would have eaten it in a pinch. There was no pinch, though.

    Both of them were on the couch drinking beer and watching shows, with plates just sitting there, sauce swirled and drying on the ceramic. Mark liked ranch, and so did Sally, but Sally also had a lot of pepper on her plate.

    Sally hummed, then sat up and looked toward the kitchen, at the slices of pizza remaining. And then she narrowed her eyes and sat back down, asking, ¡°Have you been keeping me fed with sustenance all day long?¡±

    Mark smiled. ¡°I was wondering if you would notice! And yeah; off and on. You complained about never feeling full, after all.¡±

    Sally teared up a little, her smile breaking into a frown as she muttered, ¡°Thank you. It really¡­ really helped. A lot.¡±

    Sally sobbed openly and Mark hugged her, and eventually they got back to watching the show, with Sally trying to pretend that the sobbing never happened.

    After the next show, Sally got up and ate the other slices of pizza.

    Mark smiled at that, and then he did the dishes with a breath of cleansing Union while Sally watched. He was trying to be impressive and Sally was certainly¡­ something.

    Sally stared at the clean places, and then picked them up, and said, ¡°I¡¯m still washing them.¡±

    ¡°What! Why! I cleaned them well!¡±

    Sally was already in the kitchen with the plates, putting them into the sink and turning on the water. ¡°Because that¡¯s disgusting, Mark. How do you know you actually cleaned them?¡±

    ¡°Because I did tests with Eliot with microscopes and with Isoko and her using purity/impurity, too. Those plates are clean.¡±

    ¡°Still gonna wash ¡®em.¡±

    - -

    The sun began to set.

    Mark and Sally took home the gym for a run, but it was not a gym that was capable of working for Sally, with her times-15 strength modifier and size. It was just meant for Isoko and Mark and occasionally Eliot, but not really. Mark got a good workout, though. Sally ran on the treadmill. Running on that oversized-but-still-apparently-small treadmill was a good workout for Sally¡¯s Tactile Telekinesis control. But outside of that, she spotted Mark.

    With sweat dripping, Mark set the bar back on the bench overhead, his muscles feeling stressed but good. He smiled as he breathed easy, luxuriating in the burn.

    Sally smirked overhead, stepping away from the bench. ¡°410 bench is pretty good for a Healthy Body.¡±

    Mark balked. ¡°The fuck you mean ¡®pretty good¡¯! 410 is fantastic!¡± Mark held up his arms, making muscles, saying, ¡°Look at this shit! I am stacked!¡±

    Sally, of course, did her own double bicep pose and casually put Mark to shame. ¡°You got a long way to go!¡±

    ¡°Oh fuck off.¡±

    Sally laughed.

    - -

    Back on the couch and watching shows, Sally said, ¡°So today was great, but I want to kill shit. I want to see you in a real fight.¡±

    ¡°Tonight? Like. Now? I could do a night run.¡±

    Sally had a moment, thinking about it, and then she shook her head. ¡°I could do tonight¡­ Actually, no. Let¡¯s go tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Isoko and Eliot aren¡¯t getting in tomorrow until late, and I want to see you in action, too.¡±

    Mark picked up his phone and flipped through a screen to find the Slayers app. He checked at the feed, the monster kills and the activity map with its hot zones and lack of hot zones, which was mostly a lack, right now. He had adjusted his and Sally¡¯s availability to the second highest setting a few hours ago, but still there hadn¡¯t been any work.

    Mark read aloud and summarized some of the actual headlines. ¡° ¡®Winter always leads to an expected lull in activity, which is a trend that has continued. Prepare for Spring emergencies beginning sometime around March.¡¯ As for what¡¯s out there right now, seems like they¡¯re monitoring the situation everywhere and there have been no requests for High Yellow emergency assistance from non-actives¡ª¡± He clarified, ¡°We¡¯re non-actives right now, since we¡¯re at home.¡± Mark continued, ¡°Looks like the only real action is happening in the east... toward the south east, really. The situation is stabilized and headed toward conclusion in a few hours¡­ soo¡­ Nothing happening today that isn¡¯t routine kills by teams out in the field.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°How do we become actives?¡± She added, ¡°I assume actives will actually get called.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh¡­ Well.¡±

    The participation list for monster hunts was a convoluted thing overseen by several AIs and people at Slayer HQ, but it was mostly overseen by Memphi itself. The Slayers only worked at the allowance of the City of Memphi, and Memphi was the one that actually made the requests and all-calls for all the monster kills. Even basic hunting was a City of Memphi thing that they only allowed outsiders to participate in, because Memphi didn¡¯t want to do the bureaucracy for every single person in the entire city. Memphi delegated the responsibility of keeping the city safe, like most cities did. The act of monster hunting was an entire culture with businesses and guilds and individuals, all working the same never-ending job, but from different directions.

    ¡®Who got called for what¡¯ was a massive diagram of interaction that got moved around based on personal ability and interest and connections. The city tried to organize people to always make sure that the wilds were always managed, but sometimes people were called in because they were truly needed for their specific skill sets.

    Mark was actually rather damned high on the overall on-call list. All paladins were, really, even though Mark wasn¡¯t a paladin. Mark was higher than most paladins, even, because he was actively engaged in the work of monster hunting. Memphi would call Mark in for a job before they called in Lola or David, for example, unless there was a specific need for an anti-mage Inquisitor or a Speedster Inquisitor.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m always an active, technically. This extends to everyone I¡¯m with, in a group. But since I¡¯m at home then I am lower on the list. If you want to actually get called out first for work then we need to go to Slayer HQ tomorrow and spend the day there. That¡¯d be called ¡®going active¡¯.

    ¡°They have game rooms and all sorts of stuff for people to enjoy while they wait for calls, but we probably won¡¯t have to wait for long. The transport is right there, too.¡± Mark added, ¡°I tend not to go to HQ though, because¡­ well. I would get called for everything, and the people who are there are the brawnies who want the work. It¡¯s mostly brawnies who stay at the guildhouse... And they know me. It¡¯s that situation like at lunch, but all the time, and they all want me to be on their team. Paladins and other types try not to wait around at HQ because they all get the same experience, though some people have it worse than others.¡±

    Sally went, ¡°Ahhh¡­ Is it¡­ a big no-no for you to be there? Or just a cultural faux pas?¡±

    ¡°You want to go? We¡¯re going then.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You sure?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re going! We can hang out there tomorrow.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Sure.¡± ¡­ And then he had a question. ¡°So what can Retaliation do, anyway?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®Retribution,.¡± Sally said, smirking. ¡°Drakarok freaks you out enough to not try to know the name of the Power he grants?¡±

    Mark felt his face flush with embarrassment and the absolute need to tell Sally just how wrong she was. ¡°It¡¯s war and murder, Sally.¡±

    ¡°The War for Life and Righteous Murder. Not just any old war and murder. Important distinction!¡±

    Mark deadpanned, ¡°Sure, Sally.¡±

    Sally waggled her eyebrows and asked, ¡°Would you help me hide a body if I killed someone?¡±

    Mark gasped and Sally chuckled, and Mark¡¯s emotions felt like he had a speedster in his head, bouncing off too many emotions all at once.

    Years ago, they had joked about helping each other hide bodies and they had both agreed that they were ride or die with each other, even if they weren¡¯t boyfriend-girlfriend compatible. But things had changed. They were adults, now! And both of them had killed people! And yet¡­

    This was a serious conversation, but Sally wasn¡¯t being serious right now, and yet...

    Mark answered honestly, ¡°I would get mad at you and then ask why and a whole bunch of shit like that, but yeah. I¡¯d help you get rid of the body¡ª¡± Mark rapidly added, ¡°But only because I¡¯d trust you have a good reason, Sally! The fuck!¡±

    Sally laughed, joy on her face. ¡°Same.¡±

    Mark felt a flush of joy himself. It had been a big fucking question, but¡­ in the moment, and in a way that Mark felt would always be true, it was like they had never spent any time apart, at all. Like none of that bad shit had happened. He could never be mad at Sally for any real length of time, for any reason at all, and she felt the same.

    It was nice.

 124

    Mark walked down the road to Slayer HQ, Northeast Rivergate chapter, while Sally walked beside him.

    They made quite a pair, Mark in his ceramic and webweave armor, and Sally in leathers designed to deflect blows, instead of taking them head on. But they weren¡¯t any more of a sight than anyone else. Some people stood out quite a lot.

    Over there was a trio of women, all dressed with the same style of flouncy dress and wide brim hat, like they were all witches out for the grandest ball ever. One wore all various shades red, the other all blue, and the final one wore all green. They even had some flowers growing on their gowns¡­ or maybe those were just decorations? Probably just decorations. Not real flowers. They looked like they were out for a movie event, or maybe they were shooting shots for a show. As Mark glanced their way a few times, the show option seemed more accurate. They had little cameras floating around them and they were smiling a lot, their vectors pointed at the cameras just as much as their vectors were pointed at each other. They seemed like they were shooting a ¡®reality¡¯ show of some sort.

    Live streaming, probably. A lot of hunters made extra money showing off videos of their hunts or their daily lives. Eliot had been poised to do exactly that.

    Other people looked more normal.

    Metal armor that fully encapsulated. Leathers, but with a good metal helmet. Big swords, small swords. A few floating weapons that were the tools of Shapers, like Mark... or maybe they were artifacts.

    Mark asked Sally, ¡°You ever think about getting floating weapons?¡±

    Sally scoffed, ¡°Why would I want one of those?¡±

    Mark was wearing his black webweave under off-grey armor plating, while he floated his spear at his side. The spear was just a well-made wooden thing. Mark had yet to douse it in alchemical silver. His backpack held all the essentials of the day, from his phone (that he had encapsulated in a web of adamantium, now that he had extra; he¡¯d get a proper AI house later) to paperwork, a soda, and a few snacks. He didn¡¯t need actual food or water, so he didn¡¯t bring any of that. Mark was a rather imposing figure when he was on the field, but now he was just walking along, floating his spear at his side, spearpoint downward, as was proper for carrying weapons around in the open.

    Sally was an imposing figure without even trying. Her color scheme was brown leathers and satchels on her belt, with her two swords simply stuck on her back, held there by Tactile Telekinesis. Both of the swords had a modesty guard, which was a wrap of leather that only covered the edges of the giant swords. Those guards wouldn¡¯t do shit in a real fight, but they were necessary to wear around town, to show that Sally wasn¡¯t in a fight right now. They were some imposing weapons, for sure. The swords added a full two extra feet to her height. Maybe more. The tips did not drag on the ground, but only because Sally was very careful about that.

    ¡°Floating weapons mean you can walk around without worrying about them dragging on the ground,¡± Mark said, ¡°And also so you could use multiple weapons, because two giant swords cannot always be the best tools for the job. Your extras could float to the side when not using them.¡±

    ¡°I thought about getting some floating weapons for just that reason, but the price was too high. They use the same gravcrystal that hoverbelts use, and a bunch more besides that because they have to stay near you without actually touching you. And whoa boy, if you want a weapon that can actually fight for you?¡± Sally made a small whistling sound. ¡°That¡¯ll break the bank.¡±

    Mark hummed. ¡°All good points.¡±

    They walked by nice buildings and guildhouses of all sorts of sizes, mostly on the small size, and then they reached Slayer Square, at the center of this particular nexus of business.

    Northeast Rivergate Slayer HQ was a giant building of wood and stone and glass and outdoor areas. It had a hoverpad at the back, and not much actual business going on inside. It wasn¡¯t the most busy of Slayer-associated locations in the city, because they didn¡¯t do Slayer business here. That designation was reserved for the actual working offices directly beside the gate, about twenty kilometers in that direction, down the street. This area here was home to apartments, accountants, general stores, and a lot of restaurants, because this was where Slayers hung out and networked.

    Right over there was a Mage Guild office, next to smaller mage guild-type offices that belonged to other, smaller guilds. This was practically a guild district, like all other guild districts in the city. This one had a pretty big superhero office, too, and even a Memphi Guardhouse, where a woman in a black and yellow suit tried to hand out fliers to people who walked by, trying to recruit them to work in the Guard, instead of for themselves. She wasn¡¯t having much luck.

    The promise of a constant paycheck wasn¡¯t what drew the crowds in this location, but sometimes people got tired of the hunt for any number of reasons. The guard was a good fallback option.

    But mostly, people were here to network with other hunters.

    Sally smirked, and told Mark, ¡°Smaller than Crytalis, but not by much! A whole lot fucking bigger than Harbordock, though¡ª Oh! I see another Giant Strength eatery!¡±

    Mark smiled at Sally¡¯s open joy, saying, ¡°We can order food from there at HQ, if you want, but as soon as we walk through those big open doors Quark will announce us as ¡®present¡¯ to the system, and we¡¯ll be headed out within the minute.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± Sally walked forward a bit faster, joy on her face, as she said, ¡°Let¡¯s test that theory.¡±

    Mark quietly prayed that his prognostication was correct, because he didn¡¯t really want to be bombarded with party requests for the next few hours.

    The wide open doors of Slayer HQ loomed, framed in stone, while the inside looked like the foyer of a giant hotel. Mark walked forward, right behind Sally, and Sally reached up to touch the top of the door but she couldn¡¯t reach. She chuckled at that, and then she was inside. Mark stepped inside.

    ¡­ And no instant notification from Quark. Well that was fine.

    Slayer HQ had a bunch of stuff in it, and people were sitting around at tables and playing cards or sitting on couches and watching movies. Mark imagined it like a firehouse, with firemen, or a squadhouse in an army, or, exactly like it was, a guildhouse with a bunch of people who were killing time, waiting to kill some monsters.

    The place was also absolutely decorated for Christmas and a lot of other holidays besides. There were trees with garlands for Christmas, with red and green everywhere, but there were also monster jaws encased in metal for Lenbar, which was something over on Daihoon, and candles with burning eyeballs for some other Daihoon holiday. Their complimentary snack bar was open and doing brisk business, handing out cookies decorated in all sorts of ways. It smelled fantastic. Like holidays.

    A giant map of Memphi held in the back of Slayer HQ. It was a heatmap of every possible monster event happening around the city, mostly outside of the city, showing off in real time. It wasn¡¯t a Slayer-only system, though. A whole bunch of satellite feeds linked in to that system, and the system was repeated in every major guildhouse all across Memphi.

    Skywatch, the main system for tracking these sorts of things, was always on the case.

    Sally stood, watching the map, alongside a few other people.

    Mark stepped to her side, ignoring the absolute plethora of vectors pointing in his direction¡ª

    A vector slammed into Mark and Mark turned, already knowing who it was. Mark put on a smile and tried not to be offended as Kardi chuckled and walked out from a bar, smiling wide. Kardi was a tall, lanky kinda girl who was pretty good at killing monsters with her Talent for Luck and her spellguns, and Mark had even gone out with her a few times to kill said monsters, but there was something off about her. She was too friendly¡­ Or something like that. Kardi simply seemed like she had bad vibes, though Mark had never actually experienced any sort of concerning vector from the girl. Just a general sort of unease that was mostly Mark¡¯s fault, he figured.

    Kardi called out, ¡°Mark!¡±

    Sally turned¡ª

    Quark beeped in Mark¡¯s backpack and Mark felt relief. Mark waved off Kardi, saying, ¡°Hey, Kardi! Bye! We got a mission to get to!¡± Mark touched Sally¡¯s hand and gestured toward the hallway over there that led toward the hovervans, and started walking¡ª

    Kardi smiled brightly and didn¡¯t stop coming, saying, ¡°I just wanted to tell you that I got approved for the settlement project! I¡¯ll see you there, Mark. Maybe we can party again sometime.¡± She winked. ¡°See you later~¡±

    Diplomatically, Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s great, Kardi. Glad to have you. Bye!¡±

    And then Mark went walking and Sally lingered for just a moment, but she caught up fast enough.

    ¡°So who was that cutie?¡± Sally asked, glancing back the way they came.

    Mark shook his head, saying, ¡°She¡¯s very insistent and¡­ She¡¯s a fine person, I guess.¡±

    Sally just chuckled.

    The hovervan was there with a driver sitting in the seat, eyeing Mark and then Sally. Mark knew the driver as a man named James. One other person was in the van, but two more were outside, all of them geared up and ready for a drop. The last person in their team flashed their full-orange badge across the scanner station on the side of the hovervan, and that was when James truly saw Mark and Sally. They were headed his way, after all.

    James smiled wide, calling out to the people in the van, ¡°Looks like you kiddies got lucky as fuck! You got the Dragon¡¯s Brother and some big bitch for an escort!¡± He looked Sally up and down, asking her ¡®kindly¡¯, ¡°How much you weigh with all your gear, honey?¡±

    Sally chuckled, saying, ¡°320 kilos, old man.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit, a big one!¡± James flicked some controls on the van, saying, ¡°I got the controls set, so you¡¯re all set to come aboard. Get in!¡±

    Mark rapidly told Sally how to scan her badge and then he got into the van with the orange-ranks, instantly thumbing at himself, saying, ¡°Mark. Metal shaper and Union. Leader, support, frontliner. High Yellow.¡± And then he looked at Sally, saying, ¡°Sally¡­?¡±

    Sally picked up what Mark was putting down, hopping into the vehicle, which didn¡¯t budge at all, and saying, ¡°Sally. 15-times modifier. Frontliner brutalist. Transferred from a different guild recently so low yellow. What¡¯s the mission?¡±

    One of the high-orange guys spoke up, marking himself as the leader in that action, saying, ¡°Uh. It¡¯s just a routine High Orange threat. One small group of dangerous monsters came out of a hole in the ground and started making the land their own. We don¡¯t actually need, uh, that much help¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stupid fucking kids!¡± James said, as he pressed a button and filled the cabin with a dinging sound. The edges of the doors flashed yellow and a sign flickered on, telling people to hold on and prepare to move. That was all the warning they got. The door slammed shut and James pulled back on the wheel. The hovercar ascended, and since the inertial dampeners were on, Mark barely felt the shift in gravity. James looked behind him as he drove, fixing the other team leader with hard eyes, saying, ¡°None of you are healers. This one is a healer. You take the help you can get.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The guy seemed to reevaluate his life, turning professional in an instant, saying, ¡°Sir yes sir.¡± And then he told Mark, ¡°Miasma-type hardshells poked out of the frost an hour ago and we just got cleared to go kill them and take the reward, and we are fine with splitting it with a healer and the healer¡¯s party¡­¡± ¡®Mostly¡¯, was left unsaid. ¡°I¡¯m Francis, a Wind Shaper, scout and shot caller. We got a Linz the Sniper with alchemical silver bullets, and Orris, our Basic Brawn frontliner. He¡¯s the one with the mace.¡±

    Some miasma monsters, huh? Well that wasn¡¯t anything to tell a story about, but Sally seemed happy.

    Sally asked, ¡°How big are they, and how hard are their shells?¡±

    ¡°Car-sized and they¡¯re mostly shell, with a Body in the 70s and some sort of Natural ooze knack going on, so a weakness to Mind and Arcane, and we¡¯re packing bullets to that effect,¡± Francis said, ¡°Most people can''t hurt them and they just spew poison when they get frightened. We can take them because of Linz¡¯s Sniper¡­ But I get the impression that you want to crack them in half?¡±

    Sally smirked. ¡°You get the correct impression.¡±

    Orris looked up to Sally, saying, ¡°Those are some nice swords you have.¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°That¡¯s a nice mace you have, too. It¡¯s not just an alchemical silver-able weapon, is it?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Orris tapped the mace¡¯s haft, saying, ¡°Magesteel, so it usually works well against all the Body-type monsters out there.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a good one,¡± Sally said, ¡°I was thinking about that sort of weapon¡­¡±

    The two brawnies talked a little, and the flight went fast.

    Soon, James dropped them off outside of the ¡®rockshell spewers¡¯ incursion, which is what the AI was calling the whole event, which was not much of an event, at all. Everything was broken and frozen but also green and misty. Pools of burbling green slime fogged the air, while monsters shaped like boulders mucked about in the green on stumpy legs, their necks and heads poking out into the frosty air like long brown sausages. Mark was sure they had actual heads, but those heads had no features. Just wrinkles.

    They reminded Mark of old people sitting in a hot spring while snow fell all around them. They looked more comfortable than threatening, but that miasma was deadly. It was eating away at absolutely everything, and spreading, burbling, quite far.

    Mark openly wondered, ¡°I don¡¯t see any eyes? Can you hit them, Linz?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Linz said, unstrapping her long rifle from her shoulder. She popped the cork on a bottle of alchemical silver and locked the bottle into a reservoir on her belt, and then she took a bullet out of a different pocket and stuck the tip into the reservoir. As she locked the bullet into the chamber of the big rifle, she said, ¡°I can see eyes on those stalks just fine as soon as Francis clears the air. I count 7 targets, but I suspect 17.¡±

    Frost clung to the monsters, but then Francis moved the air using a bunch of tricks to expand his range. A cold wind blew along the path the wind was already taking, for James had dropped them off up wind, and now Francis blew hard, and the green smoke began to brush away from the closest monsters. A turtle startled a little, now that the mist was clearing around it, but it just hunkered down into the miasma and calmed down.

    Sally was busy taking off the covers on her swords, eager to get out there, saying, ¡°So who¡¯s opening shots? Linz?¡±

    ¡°Soon as I give her a clear shot,¡± Francis said, blowing tunnels of wind across the field. ¡°The AI says that the toxins are highly corrosive, so she needs more bullet integrity than just alchemical silver¡­ and¡­ a bit more¡­ Er¡­¡± He kept blowing, and then he looked at Mark. ¡°Oh shit. Yeah. Union makes it easier, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Stamina will not be a problem today,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°I am so so fucking ready,¡± Sally said, as she tucked the leather covers into her back pockets and stood tall with a ¡®kaiju blade¡¯ in each hand. She was ready to kill, and that came out in her voice, as she said, ¡°Pardon my swords.¡±

    And then she tapped off of the ground and was ten meters forward, racing, jumping off of the ground and bringing her swords around for a slap against a rock beast, almost 120 meters away from the starting line. She didn¡¯t have a speed modifier, but that didn¡¯t seem to matter when you had that much power behind you.

    Mark almost wanted to join her out there, but she was moving faster than him and she had already plunged into the green mist, headed for the first rockshell on the right, in the middle of a pool of green muck. He was almost worried for her health. But Sally¡¯s entire body practically sparked gold the very second she touched the miasma, and Mark knew he was seeing Retribution in action, in person, for the first time. Sally wasn¡¯t being reckless going into the miasma. She was activating her Chosen power. Retribution could only give back what it had taken, after all, and she was very much able to self-heal from the damage she inflicted.

    Sally could have done this entire thing herself, couldn¡¯t she?

    Mark was so fucking proud in that moment, and in the moments that followed.

    Sally brutalized the first rockshell, bringing her swords down and smashing into the turtle¡¯s brown carapace like the wrath of a god, cracking the thing open with a thunder that rolled across the field. In that moment, she broke the tranquility of the poison hot spring. Turtle heads moved around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. They saw Sally and they made squeaking noises that turned into deep thrums, under the surface of the muck springs. The miasma around those ones increased. They did not move toward or away from Sally, though. They remained sitting targets.

    Sally stepped onto the muck underfoot and launched herself off of the liquid surface, aiming at the next monster, her skin practically glowing gold. She killed the next one and Mark saw what happened better, this time. She was glowing gold, and then her swords seemed to drink in all of her gold right as she connected to the monster¡¯s shell, and that gold cracked open the shell, sending spiderwebs across the rock, even as her swords continued to drive into the beast.

    Retribution was working off of the damage from the miasma all around her, and then allowing her to hit the creatures even harder.

    ¡°Neat,¡± Mark said, smiling as he watched Sally tackle the next few monsters.

    He had to beat his heart hard and focus on clearing the air around them, and making sure that no miasma interfered with his own ability to connect to Sally and the monsters, and to balance the Union in favor of humanity, but that was all background stuff these days. He had wanted to go into a fight with Sally, directly, but this was good, too.

    Orris asked Mark, ¡°Is she dating anyone?¡±

    Mark laughed, Linz gasped and had an offended look on her face as she slapped Orris on the shoulder, and Francis shook his head. Orris looked at Mark, though, wondering if he would answer the question.

    Mark said, ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough!¡± Orris said, but he was still looking.

    Francis soon cleared enough miasma for Linz to take her first shot, which she did, her rifle popping off with a sound that was barely audible over the crack of Sally¡¯s swords. The backside of a turtle¡¯s head exploded all over its shell, and then the turtle slumped down into the muck and began to dissolve in its own corrosive effluence.

    For the next half an hour, Mark hung back with Linz and Francis, letting Francis call his shots and sweep away the miasma from the huddled rockers, while Mark purified the air around all of them, and allowed Sally to get up and personal with the monsters. Orris hung back, content to be a defender if anyone should come after Linz and Francis, which seemed to be his normal mode of operation. The guy was built like a tank, and his armor had wear and tear, so Mark was sure that Orris could do the job, it¡¯s just that there wasn¡¯t a job for him to do, what with Sally out there getting all the attention. Linz lined up her rifle when she found a shot, popping eyes and drawing ire, but mostly she lined her shots well enough to pop the brains of the turtle-like beasts. Any turtle that actually faced this way was soon a dead turtle.

    It was a rather leisurely morning that ended up a lot more fun than worrisome, which was how Mark liked it. Routine.

    Soon, the mission was done and the five of them were all cleaned up, thanks to Mark, which surprised the trio and made Sally gush about needing to buy another cleaner artifact, and they were back on the hovercar, flying back to Memphi. James wasn¡¯t their driver, though. It was some guy Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Along the way, Orris asked Mark, ¡°What¡¯s ¡®the Dragon¡¯s Brother¡¯ anyway?¡±

    Mark dodged the question, ¡°The name is Mark Careed.¡±

    The trio waited for more.

    Mark did not give them more, except to say, ¡°Great to party with you three! Good luck climbing the ranks. Sniper teams are usually pretty good, I think.¡±

    Francis, Linz, and Orris didn¡¯t press the issue.

    Mark and Sally touched down back at Slayer HQ, Mark and Sally parted with the sniper team, and not a minute later Quark alerted them to another mission, if they wanted it.

    Sally eagerly said, ¡°Yes!¡±

    They ended up fighting some frost elementals, which were rare outside of Daihoon, because they usually didn¡¯t last long outside of big magic areas. These ones were tougher than most, though. They could survive in this place, and winter was pretty deep right now.

    Mark got to fight alongside Sally.

    Sally swung her swords and shattered a 4-meter tall construct of frost and deadwood and stone, scattering debris across the torn ground, smiling wide as Mark flew beside her, two rapier-like bare blades of adamantium carving right through another elemental. They started to count their kills, and Sally got to see what Mark could actually do, as a Shaper.

    It was a good day.

    On the way back from the fifth mission of the day, Sally said, ¡°You¡¯re just as brutal out there as I always imagined you would be, Mark.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°You, too! Holy shit, you turned into a bruiser, Sally. Of course, you always were.¡±

    Sally smiled brightly¡ª

    Quark dinged.

    Mark floated Quark out from his backpack, which had a few more holes in it but nothing overmuch, smiling as he said, ¡°And Quark survived the whole day! That¡¯s rare!¡± Mark was expecting another mission, that he may or may not have accepted, depending on what Sally wanted, but Mark read the phone and felt a twinge of hope and worry. He said to Sally, ¡°Isoko is home and Eliot is almost there. Missions are done! Let¡¯s go home. I can¡¯t wait for you to meet them.¡±

    Sally nodded, resolute. She didn¡¯t say anything, but Mark could tell she was worried.

    Mark was sure it would go well, though. Sally had only been hard on Mark because they were best friends, but she would at least be diplomatic with Eliot and Isoko for a while, until a real friendship blossomed.

 125

    After a shower, Mark put on some nice, warm night clothes, and sat on the couch and relaxed. The screen was off, for now. Snow gently fell outside, and though it was not thick right now, soon it would layer the world in white, piling on the trees, only to topple off at the disturbances of wind and small animals, to make plopping, crunching noises in the night. The sun was about to set somewhere out there, though Mark couldn¡¯t tell where right now, and Mark felt tired, and good¡­ And a bit hungry, actually. With a casual flick of kinesis, Mark picked up Quark, encased in a thin web of adamantium, and peeled open the cover of Quark¡¯s temporary ¡®house¡¯.

    Now that Mark had enough adamantium to actually cover his AI, Quark had survived the entire day, which had been amazing. But they hadn¡¯t met any tech monsters today, so really, the only reason why he survived was because of luck.

    Quark flickered silver as Mark looked upon him.

    ¡°¡­ I still want a proper house for you. That would increase your capability a lot, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    Now that Mark had actually asked a question, Quark responded, ¡°A housing would allow me to function as a secondary scout and interface with things like wealth detectors, hoverbelts, artifacts of all kinds that require controls to function, freeing you from working those items, and I won¡¯t be swept away or swayed by most minor technological Powers, and I will be able to separate more fully from COFR. The benefits to you to put me in a proper house are myriad. Shall I continue to list the benefits?¡±

    Mark smiled a little. Yeah, he still wanted a housing. ¡°No need. I would like to order a set of pizzas, though. Give me a random assortment of 5 of them, medium size, and make one mushroom and olive, another plain cheese, and another Mexican spice.¡±

    Sally was still in her private shower, having only just stepped in, while Isoko and Eliot¡¯s hoverbuses had already landed. According to their last messages, they were on the tram, riding together this way, and they¡¯d be home in half an hour, right before the food got here.

    Quark beeped, saying, ¡°Delivery times are impacted by the snow. Do you wish to continue with this order? It might be an hour.¡±

    Mark paused, his plans in sudden disarray. ¡°Shit. I should have ordered before the shower.¡± Mark had a think. ¡°Hmm¡­ Maybe¡­ That Nigerian place down the road is close? What¡¯s their menu look like again?¡± As Quark brought up the menu in question, Mark mumbled, ¡°Eliot loves¡­ what¡¯s it called¡­ Suya! That¡¯s it. Isoko loved that one, too¡­ And this looks good to me, too. Let¡¯s get a giant order of that in beef, chicken, and tofu, and...¡± He tapped through the menu, saying, ¡°And jollof rice, a big order of that, and¡­¡±

    Sally came up behind Mark, looking down at him, asking, ¡°You buying food?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Mark looked back and asked her, ¡°Pizza is impacted by the snow. It¡¯s Nigerian food tonight. Eliot and Isoko love this place, too, and I kinda like it as well. Ever had that?¡±

    Sally raised an eyebrow. She thought. After a moment, she shrugged. ¡°I can eat anything. I want bread, though.¡±

    Mark knew that Sally wouldn¡¯t care about dinner, as long as it was good and there was bread, and bread was always going to be on the order anyway. But what kind of bread was Nigerian bread? Mark flicked through the menu and soon found what he was looking for. ¡°Sounds like they make something called ¡®agege bread¡¯¡­ Looks like normal bread to me?¡±

    Sally sat down on the couch, her vector of Tactile Telekinesis transferring from the floor to the couch, keeping her supported even though the couch would have broken under her normal weight. They needed a bigger couch, for sure.

    Sally turned on the screen, and simply said, ¡°I like bread.¡±

    Mark nodded as he tapped on his phone. ¡°I¡¯ll get three loaves, then¡ª Ah! And some of this pounded yam stuff.¡± Mark finished off the order, and then looked at Sally. He went back into the order and doubled a few different things. Sally was not going to go hungry while Mark was around. Mark soon finalized the order and pressed ¡®send¡¯. Two seconds later he got a confirmation of the order, saying it would be ready in 20 minutes and they¡¯d send a runner out to deliver the order. Mark told Sally, ¡°20 minutes to dinner! They have a speedster on tap to run the food, too, so we don¡¯t have to go get it.¡±

    Sally smiled as she watched the news. ¡°Thank the gods. I don¡¯t want to even walk for a while.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Chewing might even be too much?¡±

    ¡°Oh heck no! No problems there.¡±

    News played on the screen, and Mark was comfortable. Sally was here, and she was comfortable, and he was feeling good, too. Mostly. Both of them were a bit worried about the meeting of friends, but Sally was ready for it and Mark was simply anxious.

    Mark was also feeling full, but not in a traditional sense. Not in his stomach, but in his bones.

    Today had been a very large day, in so many different ways. Mark hadn¡¯t even been trying to cultivate adamantium, but it had happened anyway, and he hadn¡¯t had an opportunity to shed the stuff in his bones yet. It felt heavy inside, like full grains of sand in a dust storm, instead of the ephemeral fog that it usually felt when Mark was actively cultivating the stuff.

    ¡­ Briefly, he wondered if it would be an issue to do this in front of Sally, but then he decided not to hide what he could do, and he went for it.

    Mark breathed in, and then he breathed out a cloud of adamantium that rapidly flowed into a dot that held in front of him. The first breath was always the smallest one. Mark took a bigger breath and then breathed out a minor cloud of dust that swirled into the new marble¡ª

    Sally jolted a little as she noticed, and she almost went back to simply watching the show she had turned on, but then she focused on Mark, on trying to understand what he was doing. She didn¡¯t look at him, though. Not directly. She was trying not to freak out¡ªThe genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    She gasped, just a little. Realization had struck.

    Mark breathed out another cloud of adamantium and joined it to what he already had, and that was the last bit inside of his bones. The marble in front of him was egg-sized. He smiled a little, telling Sally, ¡°Looks like today was about a 200-gram day.¡± Mark held out a hand and turned the new egg of adamantium into another spike, to lay against his skin, to join the others already there. ¡°A fourth of a kaiju blade. Just the edge, though. No one makes a full-adamantium blade.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Is that normal?¡± Sally asked, her voice sounding odd. ¡°That¡­ amount?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Today was a big day.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Even still. Holy shit, Mark. That is what? 20 million goldleaf?¡±

    ¡°The current market rate is something like 38 million per kilo, so this was 7.5-ish million¡ª¡± Mark corrected himself, ¡°7.6 million.¡± He added, ¡°It¡¯s mostly a weapon, though. Not really a thing with a price tag.¡±

    Sally raised her hands in defeat and said, ¡°Fair enough, but I still feel you should secure yourself a future for yourself through your money, in addition to your actual power.¡±

    Mark hmm¡¯d, not responding with words.

    The show continued. Sally and Mark didn¡¯t speak.

    A little while later Sally asked if Mark wanted anything from the kitchen to drink. Soon, they were drinking sodas while waiting for dinner and for Isoko and Eliot.

    ¡°Do you get tired with Giant Strength? With Retribution?¡± Mark asked, making conversation to kill the silence, and because he had the sudden need to know about these sorts of things.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Sally said. ¡°Not when I¡¯m in the middle of a battle, and when Retribution is running well. But four hours afterward? I usually crash pretty hard. Do you get tired with Healthy Body?¡±

    ¡°Not often, and especially not when I¡¯m using Union. I can¡¯t sleep for shit some nights, though, so I¡¯ve been putting myself to sleep just so I keep a good schedule.¡±

    Sally raised an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be in a battle to use Union, do you? I guess I just didn¡¯t¡­ realize that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s as easy as breathing. Harder to do in a wasteland, and in winter.¡±

    ¡°You got the full Union, yeah? What other kinds of tricks can you do?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s this one trick I want to try regarding taking in understanding and giving back understanding, with regard to languages. It¡¯s actually a complicated thing to do, but Inquisitor Lola Turner ¡ªmy mentor¡ª tells me I should be able to get into a new place and learn languages without needing to buy the spellwork to increase language capability.¡± Mark asked, ¡°I heard that there¡¯s a Minder spell you can pay to get cast on you in any big city, so you can learn the language. Did you get that done?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Sally easily went into a story, saying, ¡°It was a weird fucking experience, let me tell you¡­¡±

    They talked about important nothings for a little while.

    Soon, there was a knock on the door and Mark went and answered it. The delivery guy, who was only wearing a teeshirt and shorts, handed Mark a very large bag made of thick paper and cardboard-like handles. The bag seemed to have a support structure, and it needed it. It was a lot of food! 230 goldleaf worth of food, which was practically a week¡¯s worth of expensive groceries. The delivery guy bowed, said thanks for ordering, Mark thanked him for the food, and the guy turned into a blur to race away, back into the snowing night.

    Mark walked into the house, smiling as he said, ¡°Food¡¯s here!¡±

    And man, did it smell good.

    Sally was already in the kitchen dining room, ready and waiting and smiling, with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. ¡°I smell bread and it smells delicious.¡±

    Agege bread turned out to be some of the best bread Mark had ever eaten. It was soft and a little sweet and it went incredibly well with the spicy beef and everything else. From the expression on her face, Sally was in love.

 126

    Mark stood up halfway through dinner, smiling wide, saying, ¡°They¡¯re here!¡±

    Sally jolted out of her food focus, rapidly wiping off her face, saying, ¡°Shit. Okay okay.¡± She downed a glass of water and breathed deep. ¡°¡­ Okay.¡±

    Mark chuckled on his way to the door, to throw it open and look out into the deepening night. A bright yellow car pulled up to the end of the driveway and Mark put on some slippers before stepping outside. Eliot and Isoko opened the doors to the car and stepped out at that same moment, the trunk of the car popping open.

    ¡°Welcome back!¡± Mark declared, connecting to them and trying to wash away the stress of travel. Isoko had already done all of that, but Mark was still here, so he still helped. ¡°Let me grab the bags.¡±

    Isoko stretched, moaning, saying, ¡°Please and thank you!¡±

    ¡°The alarms said we had a food delivery.¡± With expectation, Eliot asked, ¡°It¡¯s from Equators, yeah?¡±

    Mark grabbed Isoko¡¯s big bag in one bit of adamantium, and then Eliot¡¯s bags in another, pulling them out of the back, saying, ¡°Yup! I ordered a lot! Sally is here now. She¡¯s eager to meet you!¡±

    Mark knew there was a tension in the air, with Eliot¡¯s vector pointing at the house in a weird way, at Sally inside the house, who was currently standing behind the corner of a wall just beyond the door. Sally couldn¡¯t see outside, and no one could see her inside. But Mark could feel where she was, and both Isoko and Eliot knew where she was, too.

    Isoko quietly said to Mark, ¡°So she seems stressed, which I can relate to.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah,¡± Mark confessed.

    An awkward moment passed while the cab driver said some stuff to Eliot, Eliot paid the trip bill, and then the cab drove away.

    And then Eliot, all smiles, went toward the house, saying, ¡°I¡¯m fucking hungry and it is cold out here!¡±

    Eliot rapidly went inside. Mark and Isoko followed, though Mark briefly wondered if he should have raced in first, but Eliot was too fast. Their bags trailed them, gripped by adamantium hands¡ª

    ¡°Hello Mark¡¯s friend, and our new teammate!¡± Eliot said, waving, which was a normal greeting between people who didn¡¯t know each other, but it seemed informal to Mark. Wouldn¡¯t a handshake be better? Eliot continued, ¡°I¡¯m Eliot Cybersong! Man-made Manipulation. How was your shower? Your bed? I made it all, but I can make it better!¡±

    Sally smiled brightly as she gave a little wave of her own, saying, ¡°Sally Wuthers. Giant Strength. Nice to meet you, and the shower was wonderful and the bed was strong.¡±

    Eliot happily said, ¡°I can fix them better! Just tell me what you need, and I can do it¡ª Oh I¡¯ll take that bag now, thanks Mark.¡±

    Eliot got his bag and then Isoko was there, giving a small half-bow.

    ¡°Isoko Kanno. Platinum Body. A pleasure.¡± Isoko rose to her full height, which was still much shorter than Sally. ¡°I have heard you are a capable fighter who grew up alongside Mark. If you possess any of his own zeal for battle, I look forward to fighting alongside you.¡±

    Sally awkwardly did her own little bow, mirroring Isoko, as she said, ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Isoko. I look forward to fighting alongside you as well. I prefer dual greatswords and getting into the thick of it. What do you enjoy?¡±

    ¡°The same,¡± Isoko said, ¡°Currently I use a longsword and a shield, in the European style. I plan on training for and gaining a modicum of magical might as soon as I can attend training at the settlement, though I expect any real magic to take years to acquire. Perhaps I will simply be able to gain some measure of better skill with my own Powers before then¡ª Ah. My Power is Platinum Body.¡±

    Mark tensed when Isoko mentioned magery, and Isoko gave him a wondering glance, but just a glance.

    Sally had no such outward reaction.

    ¡°Sounds neat!¡± Sally said, without seeming to be concerned about the mention of magic learning at all, though her vector had turned from anxious to¡­ anxious. No real change. There had been a fluctuation, but not much of one. With a normal enough tone that never wavered, Sally said, ¡°Magic is neat, though I do worry about¡­ magic.¡±

    She kinda lost it there at the end, behind the front she was putting up.

    Silence.

    And then Isoko cleanly nodded, saying, ¡°Magic is a dangerous prospect and I don¡¯t expect to get far with it. Being able to achieve perfect flight through some application of wind shaping would be enough for me. I believe Mark has the same sort of goal, but differently.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Yup! But hey! The food is cooling. We just dug in and it¡¯s wonderful.¡±

    Eliot eagerly took the exit from the conversation, walking to the table and exclaiming, ¡°I love that there¡¯s a Nigerian place right down the road. My dad is Nigerian, and¡­¡±

    The conversation moved to the table and Eliot spoke of his family, half of whom was from the Nigeria area. Isoko spoke of Japan and her hopes to get Mexican food at the settlement, because some of her family was from there, too. She liked the Mexican place two tram stops over, and she wanted to go there before they moved on from Memphi, which would be happening in the next several days.

    They ate the food, talking about a lot.

    Soon enough, dinner was almost over.

    A big aluminum pan rested in the middle of the table, bits of red rice clinging to the cracks and crevices, the remaining jollof not enough to save. Half a loaf of bread remained, though Mark grabbed that for himself, to eat along with the last bits of seasoned chicken, making himself a tiny sandwich. A pan of what were basically mashed potatoes, but not that at all, was down to two small bun-like balls of white. It was mashed yam. Isoko took one of those final bits of food and Sally took the last one, while Eliot finished off the last of some soup.

    Isoko leaned back in her chair, saying, ¡°We¡¯ve got four days to get to the settlement ships, yeah?¡±

    Eliot did not set down his soup. ¡°Yup! I¡¯m pretty much all packed and ready to go.¡± He continued eating, but he was going slow. Dinner was over.

    Sally asked, ¡°What kind of ship are we going in? Air ship?¡±

    ¡°One big hovership, yeah,¡± Eliot said. ¡°We¡¯ll have semi-cramped quarters for two weeks of travel, but we¡¯ll get to the southern crossover within a day. You¡¯ve crossed twice now, right?¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Yeah. I was scared shitless the first time, but we didn¡¯t see any kaiju at all, and I went in the big convoy with some big Powers to protect it. A pair of superheroes named Valor Knight and Celestial Champion.¡± Sally cautiously asked, "Will we be, uh, getting those big Powers?¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t know those two, but everyone else seemed to know them.

    Eliot waved a spoon, saying, ¡°We¡¯ve got all the powerhouses we need on the transport. More than enough, really, though seeing a kaiju on a transport is kinda rare. We¡¯re gonna be self-sufficient from the start.¡±

    Sally nodded, though she was still concerned. ¡°I hope so. Like¡­ I can¡¯t do shit against a kaiju but die.¡±

    Isoko smiled a little. ¡°I know that feeling.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t speak about his own feelings at that moment, but he wanted to be able to kill kaiju eventually. He wasn¡¯t sure how, but he was going to get there¡­ You know. Eventually.

    ¡°We have General Aurora Valen, House Valen, and several other kaiju killers in the program,¡± Eliot said, looking secure as he said that. And then he grinned. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her do her thing and it¡¯s magical. When she really gets going, it¡¯s like she¡¯s brought Daihoon to Earth.¡±

    Sally quirked an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°She was forced by Malaqua to take the Tutorial at 12 like her entire family before her, or else forgo it entirely.¡±

    Mark gasped. ¡°Really?!¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Oh yeah. The nobles are like that. Some of the older houses don¡¯t even name their kids until they pass the Tutorial. Some still call it the Thresher.¡±

    Mark hummed. He had known that¡¯s how it was before the Reveal. He said, ¡°I didn¡¯t think they still did it that way with the advent of the System.¡±

    Eliot was eager to continue with his story, so he did so, saying, ¡°When she came out of her Tutorial at age 12, she took the name Aurora, which befits her double Skill of Telepathy and Supreme Telekinesis. You know. As in the Supreme Body that Glorious Man has? Well there¡¯s a Supreme Telekinesis rank, too.¡± Eliot drew a hand through the air, like he was brushing clouds aside, or painting the world with his fingers. ¡°Aurora pulls at the very fabric of reality with her Telekinesis, stressing color from the world.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Mark felt a chill, even though he had heard some of that before.

    Sally went wide-eyed, though. ¡°Holy shit.¡± She asked, ¡°Like Glorious Man?¡±

    ¡°The very same!¡± Eliot smirked, adding, ¡°And she might even be a tri-Talent, like Mark, with some sort of Astral Manipulation. But that¡¯s just a rumor.¡±

    Sally was stuck with wide eyes.

    Mark glared a little at Eliot. ¡°A tri-Talent?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s true,¡± Eliot said, smiling, knowing he was teasing Sally.

    Isoko rolled her eyes, saying, ¡°Eliot is being dramatic, which I normally appreciate, but Aurora cannot control the world with her Supreme Telekinesis¡­ Though she might be a Tri-Talent. That much I can believe.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°She always tells people she¡¯s a bi-Talent, though.¡±

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°Aurora can touch another astral body of any sort and use it to expand her range, and she has some mage training to achieve a high level of Seer-like Skill. So she can¡¯t really flex the sky. She can just flex kaiju and everyone else that gets within five kilometers of her, or someone she knows.¡±

    Eliot smirked. ¡°Like Glorious Man but at range.¡±

    Sally shuddered at that comparison. ¡°Holy shit. Sometimes some Skills are truly terrifying.¡±

    ¡°She barely uses her powers in that way, anyway,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Mostly she coordinates with Telepathy. She¡¯s a complete workaholic, just like her brother, Kandon Valen, who is like a mini-Glorious Man himself, but with some Telepathy instead of a Supreme Body. He still has some high rank Brawny Skill, though I forgot what it was.¡±

    Sally got a little miffed, now, saying, ¡°Every damned noble on Daihoon has a bi-Talent, at least! It¡¯s infuriating.¡±

    Eliot broke out in a sudden laugh.

    Isoko¡¯s vector connected to Sally in an easy sort of way, as she commiserated, ¡°It¡¯s true! It is infuriating!¡±

    Mark grinned, and said nothing.

    The conversation turned easy at that point, with Sally talking about her time on Daihoon, but heavily edited and spoken of in pleasant ways, while Isoko shared her history with her supervillain family, but also in heavily edited ways, and Eliot spoke of the Cybersongs, and how he was nobility¡ª

    ¡°But I only have one Talent,¡± Eliot said, grinning. ¡°You can get mad at other nobles, but not this one, please.¡±

    Sally chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it in mind¡ª Oh yeah! We¡¯re all basically paladins, aren¡¯t we!¡±

    Isoko smiled a little. ¡°We are.¡± She thumbed at Mark, saying, ¡°He¡¯s the only un-Chosen here.¡±

    Mark scoffed.

    ¡°Paladin party!¡± Eliot said, and then he got up from the table, saying, ¡°And this paladin has to go to sleep, now. Sally. Tell me what is wrong with your room. Tell me now. I want to fix it, and I am absolutely sure that I got some of it wrong.¡±

    Sally was about to say that everything was okay; Mark could tell.

    Mark told her, ¡°He means it for real, Sally. What¡¯s wrong with the room?¡±

    Sally breathed deep, then said, ¡°The bed is too soft, the shower is too small, and the floors are too thin. Everything is too weak. Everything needs to be at least twice as thick, as though you¡¯re building for a thousand pound person to walk around and actually relax, because I can¡¯t relax with any of this furniture at all. I always have to have perfect TT control because if I slip up, I will break¡­ a lot of things. I cannot imagine how bad it is for someone like Glorious Man, but I imagine it¡¯s not good.¡±

    Eliot winced. ¡°Shit. I thought I had¡­ I reinforced it all for Isoko who can become 750 pounds, but¡­ Shit. Yeah. Okay. That is my fault. I should have overengineered. Let¡¯s go over it all, please? We¡¯ll only be here for another week, but there¡¯s no reason to not be able to relax in your own home.¡±

    Sally smiled and stood, saying, ¡°Thank you very much, Eliot. I¡­ I really appreciate it.¡±

    Eliot walked forward, down the hallway, and Mark could tell that he was already thickening the floors everywhere and reinforcing the walls, drawing from the reserves he had stashed in the basement as he began, ¡°So what about color¡­¡±

    Sally and Eliot talked as Eliot shifted things around¡ª

    With the two of them out of sight, Isoko leaned in to Mark, whispering, ¡°I like her. The Drakarok thing doesn¡¯t freak you out?¡±

    ¡°It absolutely does,¡± Mark whispered back, ¡°But she has very good reasons and¡­ And it¡¯s all good, Isoko. You¡¯ll love hunting with her. I could barely keep up, physically, but you definitely could with your speed modifier.¡±

    Isoko looked at Mark for a moment, and then she nodded, seeming okay. She spoke in a normal voice, ¡°I¡¯m up to a 2-times speed modifier now. I have a cousin back home who helped me with some meditation tricks that he wasn¡¯t sure were going to work, but they worked out well. Christmas was fun.¡±

    Mark smiled wide. ¡°You cracked 2-X! Congrats!¡±

    Isoko smiled softly, adding, ¡°And I have some presents for you and Eliot.¡±

    Mark felt jubilant. ¡°I love presents¡ª Oh! I got one for you, too.¡± Mark got up and called out, ¡°Eliot! I have a present for you!¡±

    Eliot called out, ¡°I got some, too!¡±

    Isoko smiled and soon Mark had a fancy bathrobe that Isoko called a yukata and told him that he could wear it as a bathrobe if he truly wanted. It was white and lined in black, with black branches and little pink flowers upon the branches, and it fit wonderfully, and it was meant for casual wear. Isoko got a nice blue yukata for Eliot.

    Eliot got Mark and Isoko pairs of mithril carving knives, which turned out to be very funny when Mark handed out mithril carving knives of his own, inscribed with his own adamantium.

    They had a good laugh at that.

    Mark said, ¡°You can sell them for their worth if you need to, obviously.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not selling it,¡± Eliot said.

    Isoko teased, ¡°I might. I want a real sword, Mark.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get there eventually!¡±

    Isoko nodded, and then she looked to Sally, who had been on the outside of the gift giving ceremony. Isoko said, ¡°And I am sorry, but¡ª¡±

    Sally was already deflecting, ¡°I didn¡¯t get you anything ei¡ª¡±

    Isoko brought out another package that was bigger than the other ones and handed it to Sally, saying, ¡°I guessed on the dimensions. It is likely wrong, because you are bigger than I thought you would be. I was basing my assumptions on a lower level of Giant Strength than your own.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I can fix the size! And in the process, also claim partial credit!¡±

    ¡°20% credit at the most,¡± Isoko said, without taking her eyes off of Sally, who was still holding the package.

    Sally was looking very out of place in a way that she did not know how to handle, but she opened the package anyway, revealing a soft pink yukata. She tried to put her arm through the sleeve but there was a little ripping sound. ¡°¡­ Ah, shit.¡±

    Isoko winced. ¡°Ah. My mistake, it seems.¡±

    Eliot held out a hand. ¡°Give it!¡±

    Sally handed it over and Eliot promptly flapped the fabric with both hands, as though he was waving a towel. The fabric expanded twice over, and Eliot smiled as he handed it back to Sally.

    The pink yukata fit her this time, giving her a dignified, comfortable sort of look, and then Isoko brought out her own yukata and put it on. Hers was a bright white and grey thing that looked like wind in stormy skies.

    Isoko wrapped it around herself, saying, ¡°They really are quite nice for warmth.¡±

    Sally smiled softly, saying, ¡°They are. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Merry holidays,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°Happy Festival!¡± Eliot exclaimed.

    Mark grinned. ¡°Merry Christmas.¡±

    Sally repeated, ¡°Merry Christmas.¡±

 127

    It was January 3rd, 2049, a few days after the New Year, and filled with new hopes for a new future.

    It was a big day.

    Mark stepped out of the hovervan and onto the bare organizing fields of the settlement project. He felt an immensity within his heart, his soul, his everything, as he took in the sight of the hovership that would be taking them to Daihoon.

    The ship was massive and grey, looking much the same as all the ships that flew up and down the Mississippi all the time. It was a thing of steel and turrets, twice as long as it was wide, and with a gigantic, bright silver ring around the back end of the ship that was magically locked around the ship, but not actually touching the ship at all. Those rings were the same things that existed inside private hover vehicles, and even inside hoverbelts, but the incredible size of a hover ship necessitated having multiple rings, and one really big one. Those rings were the shielding rings that determined what gravity did inside of the protected space, and a hovership needed a big shield.

    The ship was called Grey Whale.

    Mark turned his head to the side, and took in the vastness of the operation up ahead. There were many warehouses and thousands of people moving stuff out of those warehouses and into the ship. Behind the warehouses were offices and housing for all of the itinerant people from Daihoon and Memphi, who were setting up this whole thing. Many people housed here during the organization, but not Mark and his people.

    Sally breathed deep the frosty air, setting down her two giant luggage bags. She wore her battle leathers and her twin swords held at her back, while her gaze was wide upon the ship. ¡°Hooooly shit, that¡¯s a high class ship!¡±

    Isoko stood tall on Mark¡¯s other side, holding one bag in her right hand, wearing her Paladin breastplate and chainmail on her body. Her sword and shield was on a scabbard and holder on her back, unlike Sally, who simply TT¡¯d her weapons to her body. Isoko smirked a little, saying, ¡°Surely you have seen a ship before. You went to Daihoon and back multiple times.¡±

    Sally started walking forward, saying, ¡°The ship I was on had, like, four guns, max.¡± She briefly looked back. ¡°I really hope that all those guns aren¡¯t necessary!¡±

    The guy who had driven them here spoke up, ¡°You all got everything out of the vehicle?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir! Thanks for the ride,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Now you just gotta go past the other checkpoints. Good luck!¡±

    The guy driving the hovervan was just a guy who worked for the settlement project, who was ferrying people back and forth to the site. Mark had gone over his credentials with the guy before he had been allowed to board the van, and so had everyone else, but that was just part 1 of a whole lot of checkpoints they needed to pass. The doors to the van closed and the hovervan took off, back out there to pick up the next set of people, whoever those people might be.

    Mark turned back toward the ship.

    Isoko and Sally were already walking down the hill, toward the next check-in zone, while to the left and the right other hovervans dropped people off onto the entrance field. There was a line a hundred meters away, all of the people in line to pass under a large arch of silver plastic and metal that glittered and glowed. Snow did not gather on that archway, though snow had gathered on most things out there. The day was still clear, but weather was coming in tomorrow and for the next two weeks, according to forecasts, so the ship was setting out tonight. It was a few days ahead of schedule, and some people simply could not come on this first ship because of that schedule adjustment, but Mark, Isoko, Sally, and especially Eliot, were not people who could put off departure. Eliot was essential personnel.

    Mark tried to relax, but he was wearing his webweave underarmor and his ceramic overarmor, and his spear held to the side. He always felt ready for a real fight in his armor, but hopefully there wouldn¡¯t be any real fights for the next few days, and he could at least take off the overarmor. He had two bags with him, filled to the brim with clothes and the pure essentials, which included three more blank phones for Quark, if he should need one. Quark held inside an adamantium case on his back, while an arc of cameras and a speaker and receiver, all smaller than grains of rice, were wrapped around his left and right ears. He could talk to Quark and Quark could talk back, if needed.

    Mark expected to be watching movies that he had downloaded for the next week of travel, though Quark would also connect Mark to the ship¡¯s systems, to inform him if he needed to be deployed, and where. Seeing kaiju on a crossing was supposed to be rare, but, like¡­ Really. Mark knew he would see at least one kaiju in the passage. Maybe more than one.

    He wouldn¡¯t be directly fighting, but he would be providing Union for as many people as possible, right alongside all the other priests and paladins of Freyala on the ship¡­ Mark felt his heart ache a little, because Lola was not coming on the trip with them. She had once spoken about doing exactly that, but she was staying in Memphi. Mark and her had had lunch a few times, saying goodbye, for now, but maybe, in the future, she¡¯d come to the settlement.

    When they got the portals set up, then travel between worlds would be easy, and you wouldn¡¯t need a week-long trip to get between worlds. Lola had told Mark that she was looking forward to seeing what he made of himself out there, on Daihoon, and Mark was looking forward to that as well.

    Mark breathed deep the frosty air, blew out a cloud, and marched forward, walking behind Sally and Isoko, toward the next check in; the arch of illuminated silver pipes. The archway was an extension of Emilia Ramirez, the Mayor of Memphi, and she was personally clearing people, it seemed. There was a line though, so she was using a subroutine, for sure. Her direct presence would have made things go very fast. Sally and Isoko spoke of travel between worlds while they walked forward, one step at a time, with ten or so seconds between steps¡ª

    There was some confusion up ahead and a pair of guards quietly spoke to a guy trying to get through the archway with the crowds. That talking got real loud, real fast.

    ¡°My wife is on that ship!¡± yelled the man, trying to get through. ¡°I have a ticket through her!¡±

    The guard got insistent, blocking the guy from getting through¡ª

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck what that mayor¡¯s subroutines think of me! I have a right to get on that ship!¡±

    A guard, who had been calm, now got loud, roaring at the man, ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what you want. The Mayor says you¡¯re disallowed, then you¡¯re disallowed! You got a problem with it then call your wife and get a secondary clearance! And you better hope that your story is true, because this right here was just a warning. You think we haven¡¯t had to kick a thousand other hopefuls away? Stowaways and shit! Well we have! Now LEAVE, before we force you to leave! Or do you want to get thrown in the brig?¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    The guy was startled and fearful, but he was furious, too. At the mention of ¡®thousands of other hopefuls¡¯, and the guard directly calling the guy on his bullshit, Mark could tell that the guy was grateful that he was being allowed to leave, instead of detained.

    The guy still put up a front as he walked away, yelling, ¡°I¡¯ll have your job over this!¡±

    But the guy was walking fast to get away.

    Sally watched the guy go, asking Mark and Isoko, ¡°Stowaways are possible?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Isoko said. ¡°But they¡¯ll get kicked off before we leave. They¡¯re doing Transit Protocol.¡± She pointed at the ship up ahead, at little floating diamond-like things that hovered slowly around the ship, pulsing with light. ¡°Those are shipping sensors. They can detect anything and anyone.¡± She thumbed at the line, saying, ¡°But I can tell myself that there are at least four attempted stowaways in line with us.¡±

    Mark had sensed those people, too, and said, ¡°They could just be nervous.¡±

    Isoko shrugged.

    Sally nodded a little, trying to understand what Mark and Isoko were talking about, and then she asked to confirm, ¡°Unionsense?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°Yup,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get anything like that unless they go against me directly.¡±

    Mark made conversation, ¡°You¡¯re a big target, so it¡¯s not that hard to direct aggro your way. That helps you, right? Or rather, it was helping you, when we went out yesterday, yeah?¡±

    The three of them, and even Eliot once, had gone outside the walls for emergency deployments over the last few days. They hadn¡¯t accomplished much except for everyone to get some small experience with each other in a group. There would be an adjustment period, for sure, and that adjustment period hadn¡¯t even really begun. They¡¯d become a real party on Daihoon, Mark thought.

    ¡°There¡¯s some sort of interference between the monsters and I because you¡¯re acting as, like, relays¡­¡± Sally shrugged. ¡°I can overcome it, I¡¯m sure, but I need more practice.¡±

    ¡°I need to work to make it cleaner, too,¡± Mark said, ¡°Some problems come up when I¡¯m doing multiple-direction Unions at the same time, and I still need to learn how to cross currents. Lola says it¡¯s hard, though, and I¡¯ll get there.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°What¡¯s the problem, exactly?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I want to give you ¡®aggro¡¯, which puts you into a group all on your own, with me taking from everyone and giving you that aggro¡­ Which is something I am still trying to understand because it¡¯s complicated because monsters react weirdly and¡­ Well. Aggro is a negative, primarily. But I want to give us all resilience and give the monsters weakness, while doing the reverse to the monsters, which is its own flow, and that flow is more important than aggro, since we¡¯re all frontliners¡­¡± Mark hummed. ¡°The currents get crossed.¡±

    Isoko was looking a little smug as Mark spoke, but she was polite enough not to speak on that emotion.

    ¡°Isoko does it just fine,¡± Sally said.

    Isoko smirked, and couldn¡¯t help herself, ¡°Maybe you should become Chosen, Mark!¡±

    Sally nodded, both sarcastic and serious at the same time. ¡°Paladin party.¡±

    Isoko nodded back. ¡°Paladin party.¡±

    Mark scoffed.

    Isoko said, ¡°It¡¯s a mental switch for me, of course, but I believe I managed it by using ¡®visibility¡¯ as a vector for aggro, and then just standing behind Sally and letting her take most of the visibility before it got to me.¡±

    Mark hummed, thinking.

    Soon they reached the archway, and the conversation died under the piercing gazes of the guards in green army fatigues.

    Mark stepped under the arch first and a mechanical voice spoke, ¡°Scanning for credentials¡ª¡±

    Pop!

    ¡­ Mark looked up and watched as the archway dimmed, the bright lights in the silver plastic turning to something almost unseen. Low power mode, maybe? The guards tensed.

    Mark raised an eyebrow at the archway. ¡°Did it pop? I think I heard a pop.¡±

    The two guards looked at Mark just as much as they looked at the archway, rapidly making danger assessments¡ª

    A female voice floated into the space, ¡°Oh dear me. A little malfunction. It appears someone tripped some particular scanners¡ª Ah! Yes. That makes sense. Hello, Mister Careed.¡±

    A holographic vision of Mayor Emilia Ramirez appeared. She was a little shorter than Mark and with bouncy brown hair, and wearing a pantsuit. She smiled. ¡°I thought it might be you. I wish you and yours a great fortune in Daihoon.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Mayor.¡± Mark bowed.

    The Mayor nodded a little, and then she turned and vanished, her voice transforming into something less female and more neutral with every word, as she said, ¡°Farewell! And yet I hope to see you soon. I expect good things. Now let me fix... this¡­¡±

    The archway flickered, the lights reasserting themselves in a more normal manner.

    The two guards stood at absolute attention the whole time, and then they bowed to Mark when Mark went by. Mark tried not to hear the words ¡®dragon¡¯s brother¡¯ on their lips, but he heard those words anyway.

    Sally and Isoko came through the archway next, Isoko looking professional and Sally with a raised eyebrow, looking at Mark. Mark just shrugged, and that was the end of that particular intrigue. Maybe. People in line were staring. Three of the potential stowaways all quietly ducked out of line and walked away, one of them running as he went.

    Mark, Sally, and Isoko walked on, down the stone path toward the next checkpoint that led into the ship itself.

 128

    Mark crashed on one of the bottom beds of their cabin, saying, ¡°Holy shit everyone knows me here.¡±

    Sally hummed as she put her bags by her own bunk bed, which was on the other side of their small cabin, while her swords went under the bed itself, in a compartment for such things. ¡°Were any of them threatening?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± Mark said, ¡°Not really. Mostly it was the¡­ awe. That¡¯s the weird part.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I think only a few of them looked at you with goldleaf in their eyes.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°How much are you carrying around right now?¡±

    ¡°A lot, and not enough at all,¡± Mark said, but the real answer was 2,100 grams. Mark wasn¡¯t going to say numbers out loud, though. Not ever again. That¡¯s how people would track his wealth and notice that he was making adamantium himself. Right now they probably all thought that Addavein had given him some more, or something like that¡­ Hmm. Mark breathed in, sighed out, and got off of the bed. ¡°But it¡¯s too much! It¡¯s time to gift some to the settlement.¡±

    Sally hummed, but she held her objections.

    Mark had been planning on handing some adamantium to the settlement project for a few days now, since he could just make more. ¡°We need more kaiju blades. Everyone does.¡±

    Sally shrugged.

    Isoko said, ¡°Very well. I believe I will be taking off this armor first, though.¡±

    Isoko unclipped herself from her breastplate, and Mark decided it was time for him to do the same with his overarmor. Soon, Mark was in nothing but his underarmor, which was not enough at all, so he put on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The underarmor still showed under his collar and all the way down his arms, to his black gloves, but at least he wasn¡¯t out here in skin tight stuff.

    Sally left her leathers on, saying, ¡°You two should invest in some comfortable armor.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on the list of desires,¡± Isoko said, packing her things away for the trip.

    ¡°Webweave is comfortable,¡± Mark said. ¡°It¡¯s just indecent.¡±

    Sally smiled, saying, ¡°And you look good in it! Nothing wrong with that.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°You do look good in it.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes and got to the door, where he paused, and then he made a muscle with one arm, smirking as he turned. ¡°I know.¡±

    Sally snorted.

    Isoko chuckled.

    Mark opened the door to the sounds of a ship full of people. A crowd filled the hallways, people moving into the ship with their bags, or moving out of their rooms and into the rest of the ship, trying to get through the crowd. The rooms had slight sound dampening on them, but with the seal broken a thousand conversations were suddenly there.

    Mark entered the flow and led the way down the path while Sally closed and locked their cabin behind them, flashing her wrist and her ID across the handle. The door locked with a flicker of blue light.

    The door and the entire ship was tier 4 or 5 stuff, but it was all metal, so it was extra hard. There were temporary enhancements that they could turn on in the case of a kaiju, but mostly, the place was just simply strong. But still, the hardness of the material and the security measures were not much use against people with big Powers, so the ¡®security measures¡¯ were more like ¡®security suggestions¡¯, as Eliot had called them.

    If someone went into their room looking for Mark¡¯s adamantium, then they¡¯d find nothing.

    But, as Mark, Isoko, and Sally, squeezed down the hallway, Mark wondered if they might be the only ones with real Powers in this particular hallway. People who were combat capable were told to board in their armor, and remain decently combat ready the entire trip. Or at least noticeably combat capable. This was to better identify who would take charge in the case of an emergency.

    Sally had her leathers. Isoko wore her chainmail, but not her breastplate. Mark had his underarmor on, which was clearly visible beyond the sleeves of his shirt. But no one else in the throng of people looked ready for war, at all. They were all civilians.

    Mark made his way out into a much wider hallway and stepped to the side to get some breathing room. The sound was more manageable here, so he asked, ¡°Are we the only combatants in this corridor?¡± Mark glanced up at the signage in the main passageway. They were on Floor 3, Hallway F-Right. And then he saw a guy wearing a helmet and pauldrons and a breastplate. That guy disappeared with others down a different hallway. ¡°Ah. Well. He¡¯s in a different hallway, I guess. I think we might be the only ones with Powers in this hall?¡±

    Isoko stood with Mark looking excited, her vector almost thrumming with anticipation, and maybe even some joy. ¡°I think it¡¯s finally hitting me. We¡¯re really doing this.¡±

    Mark smiled wide. Isoko was too excited to care about Mark¡¯s question, and yeah, he was excited, too.

    Sally said, ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of the ship so that you two can Union, right? Because I can¡¯t see an actual exit anywhere to be able to fight any boarding monsters, or whatever. Just paths to exits.¡± Sally pointed at a stairwell with an exit sign overhead. ¡°That way to the nearest exit?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°And also the restaurants and gathering lounges! I¡¯ve never actually been on one of these before!¡± And then she crossed the stream of people, saying, ¡°Pardon me, excuse me¡ª¡± She looked behind her and called to Mark and Sally, ¡°Come on!¡±

    Mark smiled as he followed, saying, ¡°I think it¡¯s finally hitting me, too.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure if Isoko even heard him.

    Sally patted Mark on the shoulder and then held on so she could follow easier, saying, ¡°I almost got stuck back there.¡±

    Mark smiled and put a hand on Sally¡¯s hand, on his shoulder, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I won¡¯t leave you behind!¡± Isoko was already up the staircase, sounding like she was giggling. That was fine. Mark added, ¡°I can always find you, and Isoko can, too.¡±

    As they walked up the staircase, which was thankfully less full, Sally let go and said, ¡°We should set up a signal, or something, because I am certainly going to lose you.¡±

    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s a good idea! Uh¡­¡± Mark was at a loss, in the moment. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to do that, actually. You could think some truly weird thoughts as some sort of signal, I guess? Then you¡¯d get noticed by other people, though?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll think of something,¡± Sally said, nodding.

    And then they were on a different main thoroughfare. The hallways were extra-wide with a great big dining room over there with a stage for shows, or something like that, and a grand staircase that led upwards over there, and a restaurant with a glowing sign that read ¡®The Eatery¡¯. Mark smelled something good in the air, something meaty and bready, and he felt the vectors of the people around him as they smelled and either dismissed the scent of food, or got hungry, and their attention went toward The Eatery. Sally was one of those who narrowed in on the restaurant, her vector slamming in that direction. There were other Giant Strength people in the cafeteria, at the buffet, and Sally was about to ignore her hunger, to walk on, but Mark didn¡¯t want that. Isoko noticed Sally¡¯s hunger and Mark¡¯s own desires, both without even turning to see them, so she turned around.

    ¡°I can eat,¡± Mark said.

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s eat something.¡±

    Sally rapidly led the way into The Eatery¡ª

    Mark stepped into the place and experienced a shock that was not his own. The other people in the Eatery were experiencing that shock first. And then Mark was concerned, as he heard other peoples¡¯ words of concern. Of worry.

    ¡°What do you mean, this is the menu?¡± asked a father, with his son and daughter, to one of the cooks behind the counter.

    The food on the buffet was lumpy stuff in pasta. Meat in pasta, right? Chicken, right?

    Mark knew it wasn¡¯t chicken, though. He was already hearing other people talk about the food, now that he was here.

    The cook, as though he was trained for this, said, ¡°This is what we have on offer, sir. Expect more of the same in the settlement until a proper farm can be set up.¡±

    Elsewhere, a woman looked at the piles of pasta and at the lumps under white sauce, and said, ¡°That¡¯s not chicken, is it.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think it is,¡± said another woman.

    There was no meat.

    Mark got into the line, which had a label for ¡®free¡¯, and he realized what he was looking at.

    Unbidden memories of Mark¡¯s childhood surfaced.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    One year, years ago, a tanker had crashed into the fish tanks, out in the bay, and monsters got in to eat all of the fish. If it was just the tanks being broken, then they could have survived just fine. Dad and the guys would have gone out and fished with lines for food. But everyone was strapped for food. The tanker had crashed because of a hurricane.

    They had needed to go onto the Basic Food program for half a year until the city could afford a metalsmith to come out and fix the cages, but the metalsmiths were in high demand.

    So Mark, at 6 years old, had gone with Mom to the Basic Food house a few times, since they were the only people with food. Mom had gotten her allotment alongside everyone else. It was still good food. But it was pasta, beans, rice, tofu, and a lot of different vegetables. It was the normal food for the normal people, who weren¡¯t able to buy better food. It was Basic Income stuff. It was the stuff that you ate in the high rises, where ten thousand families lived in the cramped quarters of the parts of cities that no one wanted to talk about.

    No meat at all.

    Here, at the food line, and in the settlement, there was no meat at all.

    There was a big thing of rice right there. A massive container of pasta in a cheese sauce over there, which was probably not a real cheese sauce. Tofu was over there, fried in spices and stuff like that. And sure, it smelled fantastic. But there was no meat.

    Maybe there were some eggs in the pasta and stuff like that, and maybe there was cheese in the sauces, and milk in some of the foods, but there was no meat.

    Sally happily dug in, eager to get food. She was born and raised on this stuff, like so many other kids. Like Mark almost was, if his family hadn''t been responsible for the fish tanks in the bay. Orange City was pretty well off compared to some places out there, but some places, like parts of Tokyo and a lot of India and some of the cities up the coast of the East Coast Union, and a good quarter of Memphi, were all high rises with people living in houses that were four rooms and nothing else.

    In those places, and in the settlement, the Farmers of the God Verdago grew lots and lots of food, so no one went hungry, but meat was not on the menu. Not often, anyway.

    Mark said softly, ¡°We¡¯re going to be meatless for the next year.¡±

    Sally snorted a laugh, as she plopped a cheese sauce onto some red rice. ¡°Oh please. Be more dramatic.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°They have plans for a fishery, I think?¡± She pointed toward a big sign on the wall beside the entrance/exit to the food hall. ¡°So fish, at least?¡±

    There were giant posters on the wall showing how the entire initial settlement was going to shake out. Mark had seen plans before now, and he was sure everyone had, but now there were giant plans, expanded out to four meters large, that mapped the entire 10-by-10 kilometer initial settlement site and 50 kilometers in every direction beyond that. Most of the map was the Shine to the west of the city, a lake on the south side of town, walls around the settlement, and planned farms taking up a full half of the city space. A fishery was a full third of the lake.

    Mark would look at it in detail later.

    ¡­ Mark helped himself to some tofu pasta, which was fine, he supposed. ¡°We could get monster meat too, right? Game?¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Fuck yeah!¡± She added, ¡°You gotta make sure what you¡¯re eating is good, and there are tests and scanners that can scan for that stuff, so we need to get one...¡±

    They sat down to eat, with Sally talking about food on Daihoon and catching and eating monsters. Soon, they had eaten and then they moved on.

    ¡°No meat,¡± Mark said, softly.

    Sally said, ¡°We¡¯ll get meat.¡±

    Isoko chuckled. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with tofu!¡±

    ¡°Everything,¡± Mark said.

    They laughed.

    Mark said, ¡°I tell you I am in pain, and you laugh.¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡± Sally said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Isoko said.

    Mark led the way upstairs, past game rooms and recreational areas, past hallways that were labeled ¡®crew only¡¯, and up past an open hatch, onto a deck where snow flurries drifted across the grey-painted steel. Giant turrets dominated the top of the Grey Whale, like turtle shells with heads poking out, ready to fire upon enemies. The ordnance launchers were each the size of a house, but they were just deterrents. The real firepower would come from hatches like Mark, Isoko, and Sally had just done, to do battle with any kaiju that showed.

    There was nothing up out here on top deck aside from the turrets, though, and the people, standing around, looking past railings that were little more than grated half-walls. Most of the people were bundled up against the cold and the snow, but there were a lot of warriors like Mark, Isoko, and Sally, with webweave on full display, or wearing full armor. They were getting the lay of the land, too. Strangely enough, Mark saw kids on the upper deck with their parents, the kids wearing big puffy and colorful jackets, while the parents, or maybe older siblings, or whatever, wore armor and webweave.

    So some hunters were moving here with their families, huh?

    Mark mumbled, ¡°I wonder if the kids broke Protocol already. Just being here is Breaking the Curtain.¡±

    Isoko noticed, too. She said, ¡°The kids have brown hair but the parents have yellow and pink hair, so¡­ the kids might be Daihoonian? At least biologically?¡± She asked, ¡°Does being biologically from Daihoon make the Curtain stronger? Or did they just¡­ disallow the kid the choice of choosing the Tutorial, or not?¡±

    That¡¯s what Mark was wondering, too, but maybe not in so many words.

    ¡°Some people are fast and loose with Protocol,¡± Sally said, ¡°I¡¯m glad I was raised in Gladegrove, but I am never going back to a place like that, ever again.¡±

    Suddenly, Mark had a weird thought. If he ever had kids, he would want to raise them on Daihoon. Which was strange. But¡­ Yeah. If he raised them on Daihoon, then they could grow up outside of most Curtain Protocols, so that they could make their own choices about their own paths in magic¡ª

    ¡°So where are we walking, anyway?¡± Sally asked.

    ¡°To find the way to the front of the ship, and see the sights along the way,¡± Mark said, looking around. ¡°There should be a way to the front of the ship from here¡­¡± Mark looked around¡ª

    ¡°There,¡± Isoko said, pointing.

    She was pointing at a bulge in the deck toward the front, in the center. Some crew stood outside of the bulge, talking with civilians, or whoever. The crew of the Grey Whale wore white and blue, but the civilians all wore whatever they wanted. The army guys wore green. Looking down, Mark saw that arrows painted on the upper deck led to the hatch that Mark had just come out of, and those same arrows also led up ahead, to that central vent, and to every other vent in the upper deck. Upon the deck itself were big numbers, made that large so that they would be visible from hundreds of meters away, for fliers, painted on the deck.

    Mark looked down and read off, ¡°We¡¯re at R-3.¡± He looked ahead. ¡°And that one up there is 1-C. First Central. Eliot might be there, now.¡±

    Mark led the way, walking close to the railing, to look over the edge.

    The settlement program was a massive undertaking, with several giant warehouses filled with stuff¡­ but maybe only the last two were filled with stuff. The first warehouse, on the left, looked mostly empty, actually.

    Isoko and Sally both looked over the edge with Mark, and Isoko said, ¡°Maybe another few hours till we¡¯re fully loaded.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re pulling out before nightfall?¡± Sally asked.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Mark said.

    Isoko hummed and nodded.

    Mark made it to the central hatch, where a wide staircase descended into the ship and a duo of guards/soldiers/crewmen stood in the way of that staircase. One of them was talking with some people who looked important, but those people were trying to get down into the center of the ship, to see some person in the main crew, and they were politely, firmly, told¡ª

    ¡°It is not possible for anyone to visit the captain at this time. Please book an appointment through the ship¡¯s systems,¡± said the guard/soldier, who had repeated the same thing word for word, twice now.

    The guy trying to get inside just frowned, and said, ¡°This is very unprofessional.¡±

    And then the two of them had a staring contest.

    Mark looked to the other guard, who looked to Mark, and Mark said, ¡°Mark Careed, here to see Aurora Valen, if she¡¯s in, or I can just see her some other time.¡±

    The angry civilian and his miffed family and the begrudgingly solid crewman all focused on Mark, along with the crewman he was talking to. They had recognized his name.

    The crewman in front of Mark stood a bit taller, saying, ¡°I would like to invite you in to see the captain, but Captain Gearhead is busy organizing the intake. General Valen is doing the same. They will be available for speaking about an hour after we get underway. Have you patched into Grey Whale¡¯s systems? Or do you need a tablet? As you and your friends are warriors, then you will be expected to attend the mandatory warrior meeting with General Valen in the main auditorium at 10 PM. It¡¯s three decks below this central space right here.¡±

    Mark nodded¡­ and then he looked around, his eyes landing on the various kids here and there. He asked the sailor, ¡°We¡¯re not under Curtain Protocol, are we?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not under Curtain Protocol at all, though we assume that some people are keeping their kids inside and under silences, though those people are not your concern. Any children from Earth will likely Awaken when we begin the crossing to Daihoon, or sooner, but some kids from Daihoon might not.¡±

    Mark nodded, then said, ¡°Thank you, sir! Then we¡¯ll be¡­ meeting with Aurora later, then. Thanks!¡± Mark stepped away.

    Sally and Isoko followed.

    Isoko asked, ¡°We¡¯re not stopping here, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Mark said, lifting an arm that wasn¡¯t directly attached to his physical body, to float Quark¡¯s display to his hand. The silver screen flickered as Mark asked, ¡°Can you connect to the ship, Quark?¡±

    The phone flickered, and then Quark chimed. ¡°I have connected to Grey Whale¡¯s systems. There are welcome messages. How can I help you?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°The messages can wait. I¡¯d like a semi-private meeting with Aurora Valen, using whatever systems they have for that. Send Eliot a message that we¡¯re here, too.¡±

    Quark flickered silver. ¡°Done. There is a response. General Aurora Valen is in cargo hold 2. She will be there for the next hour. She instructs you to come there. Eliot is also there.¡±

    Mark blinked. He smiled a little. ¡°¡­ Then that¡¯s what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    Sally turned and asked the guard behind them, who had been watching, ¡°How do you get down there?¡±

    The crewmen stood straight and pointed to the side. ¡°Follow the arrow to L-2 or R-2. Cargo 2 is the bottom floor. Cargo 1 is at the bottom of 1, etcetera.¡±

    Mark thanked the guy, and then started walking. Isoko and Sally were close behind.

 129

    Mark, Isoko, and Sally, stepped past some crewmen into cargo hold #2. It was a giant cavern made of metal with lights shining down from above and brawnies walking with big crates into the hold, or strapping down crates, or using cranes to haul crates onto stacks. Everything was labeled and foremen were on catwalks, overseeing it all, or else they were on the ground, waving hand-held lights to guys working cranes, to get stuff into position. It was a chaotic mess¡ª

    And then Eliot was there, smiling and waving as he walked up the side, calling out, ¡°Hey!¡±

    Behind Eliot was a tall woman with pale skin, bright white hair, and eyes the color of a sunset, all orange and pink. She wore army greens with a darker shouldercape and she was right behind Eliot, walking this way at a sedate pace.

    General Aurora Valen, of House Valen, was something like 38 years old, and Mark had only met her a few times before, but each time she left an impression. She was high nobility, and it showed in her looks, and her, quite frankly, perfect body. Mark didn¡¯t notice that sort of thing too often, but it was hard not to notice Aurora¡¯s beauty.

    ¡­ How she looked gave a lot of credence to the rumor that she was more than just a bi-Talent.

    Maybe she was a tri-Talent, like Mark.

    Eliot smiled, asking, ¡°You excited yet?! We¡¯re about 2 hours from takeoff!¡±

    Mark felt the excitement in the air, and especially from Eliot. He felt it a bit himself, too. He said, ¡°This is the start of a very big chapter in our lives, and I¡¯m glad to be here.¡±

    Eliot chuckled. And then he said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna be busy as fuck for a week, but it should be repairs and shit after that, and we can go out and go hunting again! I¡¯m so ready to explore Daihoon.¡±

    Aurora walked into the conversation, saying, ¡°A pleasure to have you here with us, Mark.¡± She nodded to Isoko and Sally, saying, ¡°Welcome, Isoko. Sally Wuthers, I presume.¡± She did not hold out a hand for a shake. They did not do that on Daihoon.

    Sally stood tall and yet deferential, before bowing slightly and then rising, saying, ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I look forward to breaking monsters and making a good home for myself in the settlement. It is a pleasure to meet you! Has a name been decided on yet? ¡­ Er. For the settlement, I mean¡­ I¡­¡± She trailed off.

    Sally was nervous, obviously.

    Aurora smiled a little. ¡°There has been a push to name it, but we won¡¯t be giving it a name until a year passes, or we open the first portal back to Earth and we easily handle the kaiju swarm.¡± She looked to Mark and then gestured to the side, toward a small break room, as she asked Mark, ¡°I understand you wanted a semi-private conversation?¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Yes. Thank you.¡±

    Aurora went inside and Mark followed. A pair of guys were drinking coffee and reading reports, but Aurora told them, ¡°I need the room, gentlemen. Shouldn¡¯t be long.¡±

    The two men rapidly bowed and then stepped away, closing their reports but leaving them there. They shut the door on the way out.

    Aurora was tense as she asked, ¡°Is something going on with Addavein?¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ Uh. Not to my knowledge? That¡¯s not what this is about at all. Sorry if I gave worry.¡±

    Aurora paused. ¡°Oh.¡± She laughed, completely relieved. And then she was confused. With a quirked eyebrow, she asked, ¡°Then what¡¯s up?¡±

    The fact that she was very busy was left unsaid.

    ¡°I want to donate some adamantium to the settlement project, and read you in on a fact that is going to make waves.¡±

    Aurora¡¯s sunset eyes widened just a fraction¡ª And then she looked oddly at Mark, saying, ¡°You¡¯re adamantium blooded.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Er. Yes.¡± Maybe it should have surprised Mark that Aurora put that together that quickly, but maybe not. Mark pulled out a kilo of adamantium from around his wrists and then shaped it into long, thin bars, as he said, ¡°I want to give some adamantium to the project, too. I can¡¯t actually make it into a kaiju blade, and you probably already have one or five, but I have the materials for another.¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­¡± Aurora glanced at the pile of floating black lines, each of them edged and ready to be set into a kaiju blade. And then she looked at Mark. ¡°This solves a great deal of problems but gives us new ones. I will speak plainly: Do you wish to be put under protective custody?¡±

    Mark very seriously said, ¡°No thank you.¡±

    ¡°Who knows about you? Eliot, I hope.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he knows. My team knows. A few other people, too. I would prefer it if no one knows, but I assume the truth will out eventually, and I don¡¯t want it to be a surprise for the people in charge.¡± Mark set the bars of metal on the side, on the table. ¡°I was going to pretend that Addavein gave me the metal, but I don¡¯t want to do that at all. The next time I see him will have been too soon. So if people ask where it comes from I will say ¡®from the sky¡¯, or something like that, and let them think whatever they want.¡±

    Aurora nodded, looking away briefly, and then she turned back and said, ¡°I had already planned on you getting some big job at the settlement. Some way to show off your strength and scare off people. I¡¯ll find you a bigger job. When people think they can¡¯t mess with you, they won¡¯t. Your strength will be your biggest way to fend off thieves, killers, and suitors... I assume you don¡¯t want suitors?¡±

    Mark was a little taken aback by where Aurora went with all of that, but¡­ ¡°No suitors, please.¡±

    Aurora nodded, then she looked toward the metal. Reality flowed around the black metal, twisting the light with subtle rainbows, and then the metal floated in Aurora¡¯s telekinetic grip. ¡°I¡¯ll read in our weaponsmaster, but only him. Have you met Tulo Khava yet?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°No, ma¡¯am. I do wish to learn how to forge, though, if such a thing is possible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll introduce you after the meeting tonight, or more likely, when he is free. The meeting is at 10 pm. It¡¯s mandatory for hunters.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Aurora looked at Mark for a moment, and then asked, ¡°What do you want for this, Mark?¡±

    Mark had no trouble saying, ¡°I want mage learning without the secrecy contracts associated with it for me and Isoko.¡±

    Without missing a beat, Aurora said, ¡°Can¡¯t do it. Next option.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Er.¡± Mark asked, ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°The Mage Guild is a massive power bloc and I will not undermine our settlement before it even begins. They won¡¯t trade with you if you don¡¯t adhere to Mage Secrecy. So, give me other options.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ Clearance for a flying castle. I want Eliot to make one, and I want to live in one, in addition to the normal property options, and I want to learn flight magic outside of Mage Secrecy.¡±

    Learning just one magic outside of Mage Secrecy should be fine, right?

    Aurora took a moment to think about all of that, and then she said, ¡°The castle is doable, but it¡¯s harder than you think, and in a lot of small, logistical ways. I¡¯ll put you in touch with the people who can make it happen but it¡¯s up to you to make it happen. You¡¯ll only be allowed to have it hovering over your own property, though, and that¡¯s only if you can guarantee that it won¡¯t fall on anyone else¡¯s property, or damage stuff when it falls. You should know that a flying castle is a liability. It will be crushed out of the sky by any passing kaiju, and not even directly. Big, floating problem? Easy target. First target, in fact. That¡¯s why hoverships have such large amounts of firepower, and I am not clearing you for that sort of firepower on a castle.¡± She continued, ¡°As for flight magic¡­ If all you want is flight magic outside of Mage Secrecy then that is doable. That branch of magic is practically an open secret inside most noble families. You¡¯ll need to learn flight magic before you can get a flying castle, too.¡± She asked, ¡°Anything else?¡±

    Mark felt the future coming together.

    Mark added, ¡°I want a path toward nobility, and I want to be put into touch with the best accountants you know of.¡±

    He could always deny the accounting help himself, but Sally wanted an accountant and Mark could maybe get one for her, at least.

    ¡°To be a noble you must clear many gates. Three stand out the most, for you. These include land, people, and a lineage for inheritance that ensures that supporting you and yours will support other nobles in turn. You have none of these necessary things. Gain them, and the way might open. Simply having major power yourself does not make you eligible for nobility, but if you want nobility, then I expect someone like yourself to get that nobility eventually. Part of new settlements is the raising of new houses, after all, and I look forward to whatever house you might raise, Mark.¡± Aurora asked, ¡°As for the accountants: Do you want a broker to sell your adamantium? We have accountants for the mithrilkinetics we have coming to the settlement¡ª Actually. I¡¯m going to send you a whole packet of information. I need to get back out there. Thank you for your service.¡±

    Aurora began to walk away¡ª

    Oh.

    That was it, huh?

    Well.

    Uh.

    Mark bowed, and Aurora wrapped some paper towels from the break room concessions around the metal he had given her, hiding it from direct sight. With a wrap of more power, she grabbed a cardboard box that held cups, dumped out the cups, and stuffed the adamantium into the box. Holding the box in her own hands, Aurora left the room.

    Aurora called out to some guys she saw, ¡°Jaro! Runner to Tulo Khava!¡± A blur of motion stopped in front of Aurora and resolved into a crewman in green; a soldier. She thrust the box of not-cups at the guy, saying, ¡°C-7, floor 3, weapons department. It¡¯s an important package.¡±

    The runner stood at attention, took the package, and then raced away.

    Aurora went right back to the people she had been talking to, to organize the shipments and tap at tablet screens and talk to other people.

    Mark moved to stand with Sally, Isoko, and Eliot. ¡°That¡¯s that.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°What¡¯d you get for it?¡±

    ¡°Enough, I think?¡±

    Eliot smiled wide, whispering, ¡°We only had two blades, but that makes three. Three is a good number.¡±

    Isoko quietly asked, ¡°How many does a settlement usually have?¡±

    ¡°One to none,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Two is a semi-stable configuration. Three or more is where kaiju get a lot easier to kill. Most kaiju killers are big spell workers, though, like Aurora, but you still need those blades for the big kaiju that need to be carved open before they can be killed. But enough about that!¡± With an excited tone, he added, ¡°Let¡¯s go check out the planning room! We can pick out land plots!¡±

    Mark was a bit skeptical at that, asking, ¡°We can pick out plots already?¡±

    Eliot led the way, saying, ¡°Not really. But we can get a feel for it all! I want a place near the east coast, away from the river, but then again the riverside might be developed to be a big bustling city center, and¡­¡±

    As Eliot led the way toward some place that Mark did not know of, Eliot spoke of all of the plans for the settlement, from castles in the beginning to open cityscapes within two months and a big wall outside all of that. They¡¯d have big apartment complexes eventually, but while they were just a settlement, everyone should be able to have an individual house. Mark listened, sure, but he mostly focused on a pair of guards that trailed them at a respectable distance. The guys weren¡¯t trying to hide, and they were focused on Eliot a lot, so¡­ Mark was concerned.

    Mark interrupted Eliot, thumbing backward, asking, ¡°Uh?¡±

    Isoko rapidly added, ¡°Yes. Who are they? Friends?¡± She had been concerned, too.

    Sally looked backward and had a tiny startle. She asked the guys, ¡°Uh? Hello?¡±

    Eliot looked back and said, ¡°Oooooh, shit! I think I know what¡ª That¡¯s Leonard and Kadol! What¡¯s up, guys?¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Both of the guys looked put-upon, and in an embarrassing sort of way.

    Kadol, Mark assumed, stepped forward and said, ¡°Uh. You said you¡¯d fix up the crew rooms, and we were wondering if you could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh yes! I did say that! Uh¡­ Let¡¯s go that way, first.¡±

    Mark was fine with that, and it appeared everyone else was, too.

    Kadol smiled, looking relieved, and Leonard gave a small bow of the head. They led the way up a side passage, opening a door to a cramped hallway that Sally touched with her head, but she made it through just fine.

    And then they were in the crew part of the ship, on what looked to be floor 2. The hallways opened up a bit, but not much, and the crew rooms here looked well lived-in, with people hanging out in their boxers and teeshirts with photographs of people tucked into the corners of mirrors, and welcome mats sitting outside of crew rooms. The rooms had names on the doors in addition to numbers.

    Some guys in the hall noticed Eliot right away, right before Leonard called out that the builder was here, and to ¡®get your fucking rooms in line, because the rebuild was happening right now!¡¯.

    In a rapid, yet controlled sort of way, Eliot walked down the line of rooms, talking to people who were all too eager to get things done to their rooms, while personally greeting every single one of them, and then fixing up every room. Wiring got redone, lights that flickered got fixed. Lights got added. Beds, which were attached to walls and fully metal so they were not easily moved, got moved how the people wanted them moved.

    It took half an hour for Eliot to finish, but Mark wasn¡¯t in any sort of rush, and it was really neat to see Eliot in action, doing what he loved. The guy really loved building stuff and meeting people, and Mark couldn¡¯t tell which aspect of his calling he liked better. He smiled with people. He laughed with new friends.

    Mark, Sally, and Isoko all met crewmen and crew women, just as a matter of course. Somehow they got on the subject of food. Maybe Sally had said something, but then Mark ended up asking someone about meat on the trip, and they got invited to the crew mess hall, if they wanted.

    ¡°Yeah they got meat in the crew hall. Not much, but we do get some!¡± said a girl named Bess.

    ¡°But y¡¯all are warriors, yeah? You¡¯ll get meat in the warrior hall, just like us,¡± said a friendly guy named Carl, who was one of the crew who fought, when he had to fight. With a smile, he patted Mark on the shoulder. ¡°And we might go kill monsters right beside each other, too! I¡¯m a long range bomber, usual range at 3 kilometers, so I¡¯ll be softening them up for the big boys and girls, and that¡¯s you and your team, yeah?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°But my range is a lot shorter. 500 meters is doable, but stretching it. Union, though, so I got tricks.¡±

    ¡°Oh that¡¯s plenty! You soften them up, yeah?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Mark said, grinning.

    Sally asked, ¡°Will we be harvesting monster meat on the way? We did that on the last trips, but none of it was actually viable for consumption, so it all got thrown away.¡±

    ¡°What? Some birds attack, or something?¡± asked Bess.

    ¡°Exactly yes,¡± Sally said.

    Carl said, ¡°We¡¯re blasting and sailing, and not scavenging for food at all. This is the most loaded with Skills we¡¯ve ever been on Grey Whale, though, so I¡¯m sure someone is solving the meat issue. We¡¯ve got tons of Farmers of Verdago here, so the God of Farming can surely get us some chickens, at least.¡±

    Some other guy who had introduced himself, whose name Mark did not remember, said, ¡°Probably just eggs. Maybe locusts, too. Locusts can eat Farmed grains on a ship just fine.¡±

    Mark had an instant, visceral reaction to say, ¡°Uuugh!¡±

    The crew laughed.

    Sally smirked, asking, ¡°Bugs are good with the right sauces.¡±

    ¡°Crumchy!¡± Carl said.

    Isoko made a retching sound and Mark wholeheartedly agreed.

    And then Eliot was there, saying, ¡°That¡¯s the crew housing done!¡± He told Kadol, who was with him, ¡°If you want anything else, let me know.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Eliot!¡±

    A chorus of thanks erupted behind Eliot, and Eliot smiled.

    Carl chuckled a little and told Mark and them, ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Nice to meet you, too.¡±

    And then they were back in the halls, headed through the ship, Eliot talking about everything that was happening, and listing a few other last-minute adjustments he had been requested to make, but which he had not yet gotten to.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really cleared to fix ships, or to work on any of the actual insides, but surface work is all-cleared. When we get back to the rooms then I can fix those up for us, too.¡± Eliot said, ¡°But let¡¯s go pick out plots, first!¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°How do we feel about hills and higher lands than normal? Flooding is a concern, yeah?¡±

    Eliot easily said, ¡°The lower lands are gonna be where everyone gathers. The town centers and such. High lands are going to be defensive locations. Flooding won¡¯t happen¡­ but obviously it will happen. The Shine is right there and it does flood. But we got walls for that. What you feeling like? Lowlands at city center? Or high lands and defensive and good views?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I want a flying castle. So, you know, the highest land possible.¡±

    Eliot smiled wide.

    Sally scoffed, talking about the benefits of owning closer to the expected city centers, which rapidly evolved into a discussion about how they could only plan for city centers, but city centers happened where people went, and that meant that people had to make those centers happen, directly. And that could happen anywhere, even on top of hills.

    Isoko was all aboard the flying castle plan, as soon as she learned flight magics.

    Mark smiled at the mention of flying magics. He had a surprise to tell her later, when the four of them were alone in the room.

    But for now, they reached the big map room and found it absolutely filled with people, so they turned around and went exploring elsewhere.

    - - - -

    It was time.

    The Grey Whale was full. The cargo bays locked. The people moved in.

    It was time to move on.

    Mark stood on the upper deck of Grey Whale, alongside Sally, Isoko, and Eliot, and thousands of other people. Some people remained in their rooms, or down below in the entertainment lounges, or in the war rooms, or in meetings with others, to make plans for the settlement. All of the guilds and their representatives in the settlement were here, on this trip, and a few superheroes and villains and high mages and paladins and high priests were scattered around the place, too. Those people didn¡¯t care about seeing Memphi vanish behind them, but Mark did.

    Mark wanted to see it all fade behind him, and to see the open land ahead.

    Overhead, some fliers flew. Some of those fliers would come back to the ship when Grey Whale was past the city, but most of those fliers would be headed back to Memphi. They were just here for a sendoff.

    Twilight was already here. The sun had yet to set, but the sky was overcast, threatening snow.

    The Grey Whale was decked out in lights, though. Holographic streamers flew from the air all around the ship, while hidden speakers blared an upbeat song, as the ship began to lift from port. Up, up it flew, the air whipping a flurry of snow past Mark, past everyone riding on the top of the ship. Some people gasped at the sudden chill, but mostly they cheered. People on the ship waved to people down at the settlement project zone, and people down there waved upward to the people on the ship. Fireworks cracked the air with color and sound, and the ship¡¯s engines whirred to life, thrumming the metal underfoot.

    Mark was a mote of existence, standing on the edge of a fall, feeling an ocean of people all around and down below and in the air, all of them wanting something. The exact natures of those wants were too nuanced to ever know at a glance, but the desires all had a flow to them, and Mark felt propelled.

    Toward the future, toward his future.

    He looked up at the fliers overhead, as they flew in formation, some of them peeling off and twirling in the air, and some of them landing back onto the ship. One guy landed on the giant silver ring that surrounded the back third of the ship, waving to everyone still in the sky.

    Isoko looked up at that man with jealousy, and hope.

    Sally was fully secured to the floor, her TT holding her tight. She seemed¡­ wary of heights, but she powered through it all. She was not scared! No sir!

    Eliot smiled softly at everything, letting the wind brush against him.

    Mark looked over the edge, toward the ground, and then a little bit above, where a familiar hovercar floated in the sky like a tiny boat being passed by a shipping cruiser. His heart beat hard when he saw who was in that car.

    Uncle Alexandro and Gabriel stood out of the sunroof, waving Mark¡¯s way, and Mark waved back, tears clouding his vision for a moment. They cheered, and Mark did too, but he knew they couldn¡¯t hear him, for he couldn¡¯t hear them at all, either. But he was pretty sure they saw him. They started waving frantically, happily, and Mark did the same.

    They had said their goodbyes earlier, and it had been tough, but Mark would be back, eventually.

    He¡¯d call them, for sure, when he arrived.

    And then they were past the planning area, out over the city, and Mark gripped the railing of the ship as it flew toward the future. Mark¡¯s uncles fell from view, along with all of the rest of the people down below.

    All too soon, the ship ascended even further. The weather envelope flashed into existence around Grey Whale, and the wind died down.

    One final, major round of fireworks blasted the sky with color and light.

    And that was it.

    Mark stayed on deck, but other people began to flow away, down below. Isoko spoke of wanting to get to the planning map and Sally wanted to see it too, and Eliot had ¡®a whole big list of things to do!¡¯, but Mark wanted to stay. He wanted to see Memphi vanish from view. He was not the only one that wanted that, but he was the only one of his team that stayed up top.

    Soon enough, Memphi was a land of flickering light and millions of people, protected behind a big wall. Everything else was a sea of black, save for a few spots of light that were surely either monsters, or people fighting monsters.

    Soon, almost no one remained on deck.

    Mark hung out for a while, catching glimpses of the sun beyond the clouds, watching that sun set beyond the western horizon, beyond the dark land so far from civilization. They had left Memphi behind, too far behind to see, and the only thing out there were monsters¡ª

    A gasp from someone else, far down the railing, had Mark looking their way.

    A woman held onto the shoulder of a man as she eagerly pointed up and outward.

    Mark turned, and his heart beat hard.

    He listened intently, and he heard them, as he saw them.

    Sky whales.

    They were like grey monoliths poking through the clouds, glittering softly in the dark. They were hidden except for their immense grey masses that glittered on the edges, their tiny wings on their sides that were lit up like blue neon lights, and their long tails that ended in a rush of flickering green-neon tendrils that were almost like fins. There were three of them, far as Mark could tell. Two elders and one smaller whale. The smaller kaiju was a stubby little thing, but it was still the size of the ship under Mark¡¯s feet. The elders were huge. Too big to see beyond the thickness of the dark clouds. But their glows shone through those clouds. Like hints of light, deep below the surface of an ocean, they were leviathans in the sky and they were magnificent.

    The baby was the only one fully visible, as it played in the deepening night, in the deepening clouds.

    They sang, and Mark¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Theirs was an echoing melody of chiming thrums that crested and faded and then crested again, the larger ones with deeper voices, the baby with a shrill song, all of them talking together in long signals. Where one voice stopped, the others took up the call, and so it went, back and forth, a song between parents and child.

    Mark smiled to himself, since he was the only one of his group still up here, on top of Grey Whale. With a thought he took out Quark from his pocket and had him take a video, as he said, ¡°Looks like you guys missed the sky whales! Gods, they¡¯re impressive.¡±

    They were lazy things, too, floating slowly.

    One of them opened its maw and swallowed half of a cloud, and then vented most of that cloud back into the world, through its gills and blowholes. The baby played in the vented mist, in the night, in the thickening snow. Mark wondered what the kaiju got from eating clouds.

    Maybe just water?

    It wasn¡¯t comfortable out there on the deck, but Mark was wearing webweave and taking in warmth from the world, so he was fine with the chill. It was bracing, really. And the whales were magnificent. Sky whales were some of the only non-violent kaiju on the two worlds, and they were beautiful.

    Mark watched the whales until they vanished from sight, into the depths of night.

    Eventually, Mark let go of the railing. He turned. He went down into the ship, feeling some sort of loss and hope in his soul. A desire for more. A desire to see the worlds, and everything else that lay beyond the safety of city walls.

    He still had half an hour to get to the hunter meeting, at 10, so he took his time, walking the much calmer hallways of the Grey Whale, enjoying himself, feeling out the people all around. A lot of people were still in meetings with each other, making plans now that the major players of the settlement project were all on the same ship together.

    ¡­ They were all on the same ship together, weren¡¯t they?

    Oh sure, some people for the settlement project were not here. They¡¯d be showing up later, or maybe they were already on site. But this ship held 90% of the population for the new place.

    Mark hadn¡¯t truly comprehended that simple fact before now.

    Gods! What a simple thing to not really understand, until now.

    Every single passenger on this ship was going to be a neighbor. A friend. A coworker, or something else. Someone to fight alongside. Someone to make plans with. Someone to know, and to be known by in turn. To buy from, to sell to, and a whole lot more.

    Mark grinned at nothing in particular.

 130

    Mark wandered into the grand meeting hall at 9:52, right into a pair of crewmen who were checking credentials. The hall was full. A thousand people, at least, scattered over stadium-like seating, all faced a stage. A few people sat on chairs on that stage, talking softly to each other, while the podium in the middle remained empty, for now.

    ¡°Mark Careed,¡± said one of the crew, before Mark could introduce himself. ¡°You¡¯re up front, on the bottom level.¡±

    Mark blinked, oriented, and said, ¡°Oh, uh. Thanks!¡±

    The crew gestured down the main walkway, giving small instructions that were easy enough to follow. The crowd was huge and noisy, with everyone talking over everyone else. Mark was halfway to his seat all the way up in the front, meters from the stage, before he felt Sally and Isoko sitting in the crowd up above, on the second audience level. It didn¡¯t take much to spot them among the crowd, with his Unionsense guiding him most of the way. They waved at him and Mark waved back. He wondered where Eliot was and he mouthed as much. Isoko and Sally both pointed toward the stage.

    Mark turned, and there, among the seats, was a seat for Eliot, with his name printed onto paper and taped to the chair. Eliot wasn¡¯t there yet, but he would be. Mark nodded up at his team.

    He arrived at his seat.

    He mostly ignored how a lot of people in the crowd were looking at him, all of their desires feeling like a wash of color to his Unionsense. Greed was there, but also surprise and joy and a feeling of relief, as well. Sussing out exactly where those emotions were coming from was too much for Mark to bother with, so he sat down in his chair.

    Mark found himself seated among other expected team leaders, with the front row only holding one person every other seat, instead of the full crowds of the rest of the theater space. There were paladins of Freyala in breastplates, warriors who had opted to walk around in their heavy armor, mages with robes and chainmail, and even more like Mark, who wore webweave under normal clothes. Mark was not the only one wearing black webweave, but he was one of the few. Two people were straight up wearing superhero costumes, all bright and tight against their skin¡ª

    ¡°Hello,¡± said a man seated to Mark¡¯s left, as he put his hand to his own chest in a weird sort of greeting that Mark wasn¡¯t familiar with. ¡°I¡¯m Tartu Solari. Domainer.¡±

    Tartu was an athletic, barely-20 man, with white and blue hair, cut short in a military style. He wore mostly white. His armor was more ¡®mage¡¯ than ¡®warrior¡¯, and Mark was absolutely sure that he had heard the name ¡®Solari¡¯ somewhere, but he could not place the name at all. It was an important name, though¡­

    Mark put on a nice face, saying, ¡°Nice to meet you, Tartu. I¡¯m Mark Careed. Metalshaper, Union.¡±

    Tartu smiled a little, his fist relaxing. ¡°More than that, I heard.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah. Yeah?¡± Mark was not sure what was happening right now. Not divulging everything he could do was a small lie of omission. A perfectly reasonable lie, too. Mark moved on. He asked, ¡°What¡¯s a Domainer?¡±

    Tartu smiled and said, ¡°An Arch Skill. I set up areas with Laws in them that must be obeyed or fought against before they can be ignored. Against low level threats it¡¯s a no-sell sort of ability. ¡®Warder¡¯ is the name of the Arcane Skill. Perhaps you¡¯re more familiar with that one?¡±

    ¡­ Was Mark imagining it, or had Tartu put on some weird sort of stress on that last bit. ¡®Perhaps you¡¯re more familiar with that one¡¯? Huh?

    ¡°Nope! Never seen it, or heard of it,¡± Mark said. He had never heard of ¡®warder¡¯, but he did know the relationship between Arcane and Arch Powers. Eliot¡¯s Man-made Manipulation was an Arch Power that allowed him to make things but on a much grander, more personal scale, than the original Arcane Power, known as ¡®Create Object¡¯. Arcane Powers were based on demon-created magic, but Arch Powers took the demon magic and allowed it to be twisted based on personal desires. Whatever this ¡®Domainer¡¯ did, was able to make space that had to be obeyed, though, so the base Power probably had vastly limited effects. Mark asked, ¡°I can imagine you¡¯re great at point defense and even offense, too, in certain scenarios?¡±

    Tartu seemed to tense inwardly but relax outwardly. It was the telltale sign of someone trying to hide in public, which was a familiar situation for Mark. Had he touched upon something too serious? Maybe.

    Mark felt he had messed up this meeting, somehow.

    Tartu said, ¡°More defense than offense, I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    Mark blinked, wondering why the guy was lying. He asked, ¡°You can deny the ability to breathe and kill something, can¡¯t you?¡±

    Tartu was a riot of internal emotion, his face a broken mask. He rapidly hid whatever he was trying to hide, and mumbled, ¡°No. I can¡¯t do that.¡± He added, ¡°But of course a villain would think like that.¡±

    ¡­ What was happening here?

    Was Tartu¡­ Was he coming for Mark? Like, to pick a fight? Or did he just not understand his Power? Or did Mark misunderstand? Mark probably misunderstood, but¡­ But Tartu called him a villain? Like it was a bad thing? Maybe it was a bad thing to someone from Daihoon!

    Mark laughed. He couldn¡¯t help himself.

    Tartu was suddenly furious, though he tried to hide it as best he could¡ª

    ¡°Sorry, sorry!¡± Mark said, ¡°I did not mean to laugh. But¡­ Like. You gotta know what your Power does, right? All aspects of it? You even called it a no-sell Skill, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°I meant that I could deny monsters the power to leave a space, or to invade another space. It¡¯s a mana-cage Skill.¡±

    ¡°¡­ You can¡¯t invade a space with your Power¡ª Skill, sorry.¡± The guy seemed to be upset every time Mark named it a ¡®Power¡¯, which was weird. Daihoonians called their Powers ¡®Skills¡¯, though, so maybe that was a Big Deal to them? Mark asked, ¡°You can¡¯t overlap an astral body with your Skill?¡±

    ¡°No, I can¡¯t,¡± Tartu said, his face turning a little red with a measure of embarrassment and rage. ¡°It breaks immediately. They can move into the space, but then it starts to degrade and¡ª And that¡¯s unimportant. Why is the Dragon¡¯s Brother here and not on stage? That¡¯s what I wanted to ask.¡±

    Mark shrugged, saying, ¡°I¡¯m just a team leader, but the team is kinda full of leaders. Eliot is the one on the big stage, of course.¡±

    As Mark confronted Tartu¡¯s anger with a shrug, Mark had a weird moment somewhere between shrugging and talking about his team where he was amazed at himself, at being capable of shrugging off what was obviously meant to be a dig. Tartu was angry and he wanted to make Mark angry, too.

    Tartu huffed, then looked at the stage as he muttered, ¡°I¡¯m gonna be your first formal challenge in the Hero Program. Look forward to it, Dragon¡¯s Brother.¡±

    Mark sat in stunned silence for a good 3 seconds before he found the wherewithal to speak¡ª

    But someone was on the stage, and they tapped the mic on the podium. A soft boom echoed through the room, the room fell to silence, and Mark turned toward the stage.

    General Aurora Valen was there, at the mic, and all of the seats on stage were full.

    ¡°Greetings, hunters, and welcome to the first official warrior hall of the settlement project.¡±

    Some people cheered¡ª

    Aurora continued over the noise, saying, ¡°I am General Aurora Valen of House Valen. My Skills, as I would call them, or Powers or Talents, as those of you from Earth would call them, are Supreme Telekinesis and Telepathy, along with a smattering of magic. I will be your leader for the next five years, and after that we will have elections, and I will transition to the leader of the armies. A lot of things will change when the settlement is settled, we vote a name for ourselves, and we transition to a developing city.

    ¡°But for now, and for the next five years, while we develop the land, we will be at war with the world around us. Wars require generals and hierarchy, and I will be providing that. Officially, and to the rest of the world, I am your General and you are my soldiers, but I expect to be called ¡®Aurora¡¯ by my soldiers and my people. Outsiders will know me as General Valen, but not you.

    ¡°I will always make time for you, and I expect you to make time for me.

    ¡°But, I will not be leading many of you directly. For that, we will look to the hierarchy of the settlement. All of you are already familiar with most of what I am about to say, but as this is the first warrior hall, I will be stating many things for the official record.

    ¡°The organization of this system is as follows:

    ¡°From the General, that is me, we have our Seconds. From the Seconds, we have all of you. That is how orders will flow in the settlement. The civilians are outside of this command structure. They will follow a similar ordering, though their orders are based on houses and organizations.

    ¡°There are no people in the settlement who are not part of the hierarchy. That will come later. Think of us like a business in the beginning. When we settle the land, the real civilians can come in and expand the city to massive size. But until then, the order is like this.

    ¡°Directly under me, and primary among the Seconds in Command of the Warriors, is my brother, Kandon Valen, with the Skills for True Brawny and Telekinesis.¡±

    Aurora gestured to a large, muscular man with bright white hair, just like her, sitting to the side. He had on army greens, just like Aurora, and he nodded at being named.

    Aurora continued, ¡°Most of you are brawnies, or you have come here individually, and outside of a team of your own. You know who you are. Most of you will be working under him. He will be organizing the primary defense of the land, so everyone here will know him in some capacity. All of the guilds, all of the individual teams, superheroes, or villains here, or anyone else who wishes to enact their power upon monsters for the good of us all, will be working under him in some capacity.

    ¡°Most of you will probably be delegated to smaller contacts and only interact with Kandon a few times a month, if that. As for those smaller contacts, there are a few you should know by sight and name. I don¡¯t expect you to know these people right away, but you will learn them, and you will know them.¡±

    Aurora began to gesture to the people sitting behind her and naming names.

    Mark paid attention. He did. But there were 12 people on that stage and Aurora only said their names once.

    At least he could point out Kandon Valen, the overall leader of the armed forces, while Aurora was the General of the whole project. And then there was Eliot up there, introduced as the main reason that they were able to put together the settlement project so quickly.

    Eliot stood when he was pointed out, took a bow, and then said, ¡°I can build anything, as long as I have help to build it! Look me up online under ¡®VeryHuman¡¯. I have some building guides up for viewing! I¡¯ll be making the housing, and you can have almost anything, but there is paperwork involved! Happy filing!¡± Eliot sat back down, seeming inordinately happy.

    Aurora moved on, introducing person after person. Soon, she reached the end of the line, and what she said drew Mark¡¯s full attention.

    ¡°There are a few thresholds to clear to be able to even entertain the idea of a settlement in new lands, and one of the most important is the presence and capability of people who can take down kaijus. The leader of our team of kaiju killers is this man.¡± Aurora gestured to a man who wore green fatigues with a black and silver shouldercape. ¡°Nightbolt, real name Sam Ranger, of Earth.¡±

    Not everyone Aurora introduced stood up and spoke to the audience, but Sam was one of those who stood and spoke.

    In his military outfit, Sam said, ¡°I¡¯m Sam Ranger. Threadmaker, hero name Nightbolt. Some of you may have seen me on the screen for Weekly Showdown, or on the news, when the kaiju would come up the Mississippi River. I¡¯m the one that lays down the lines and the kaiju kill themselves upon those lines. My family and I have decided to move to the settlement, to the future twin city of Memphi. I look forward to working with those of you who desire to kill kaiju, either as the ones who hold the blades, or make the blades, or support those who hold the blades.¡± Sam looked directly at Mark, and then toward someone else in the front row, and then toward yet another person, as he continued, ¡°Some of you, I hope can do all of it. We¡¯re the big killers, and we¡¯ll do the big killing, but all of you will still be fighting the good fight in the smaller defenses of the land.¡±

    Mark felt some attention focus on him. Most remained on Sam.

    Sam bowed, and then sat back down.

    Aurora turned back to the gathering and spoke, ¡°As you know, kaiju are attracted to portals that bridge Earth and Daihoon. Once we get the permanent portal set up, we expect to open that portal once a month, and while the shippers move stuff, the kaiju killers and all the rest of the settlement will be on high alert, because that¡¯s when the kaiju show. Once a month, for 2 days, we¡¯re on high alert and everyone works, and then for all the rest of the time we¡¯re at a much, much lower activity level. We¡¯ll be a tier 10 city eventually, but the workload will be that of a tier 4 city, outside of portal days.

    ¡°It will be an amazing achievement, and every single person in this room will become incredibly wealthy, powerful, and influential. Every single person in this room will go on to become the bedrock upon which our city will grow and prosper. All of you have power, and all of you will get more, because we¡¯re going to be a bridge between Earth and Daihoon.

    ¡°What I see before me is not just brawnies, or otherwise.

    ¡°What I see is the future.

    ¡°Our future.¡± Aurora stood tall, seeming to shine as she said, ¡°Our glorious future.¡±

    Mark felt enlivened, like he was ready for anything. From the emotions in the air, he was one of many who felt that way.

    Aurora glowed, just a little, her eyes sunset-bright as she gazed out into the crowd, and said, ¡°That¡¯s it for the mandatory meeting.¡± She gestured to the side and some soldiers in green opened a big set of double doors. The other people sitting on the stage all stood up and took their leave, walking off the stage, into the other room, as Aurora said, ¡°The grand hall has been prepared with food and drink, and I and everyone here will be accepting questions and meeting all of you for the next two hours. I am sure many of you will wish to meet each other, as well. It might not happen tonight, but I look forward to meeting all of you, eventually.¡±

    Getting into the other room involved a bit of self-organized chaos, but eventually Mark ended up over there, standing with Eliot, as Eliot ended up meeting about a hundred different people, all of whom were nobles or something like that. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he ended up standing with Eliot, but that¡¯s what happened. Eliot did almost all of the talking, which he loved, but Mark ended up fielding a few questions about Addavein, which he did not want to do.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about him. I have asked him to call me before he shows up. I don¡¯t know if he will do that, though.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Aurora came by, somehow, and whispered to Mark, ¡°You¡¯re too caught up on the politeness of Xerkona Etiquette. Learn how to glare politely to get them to stop asking about certain things.¡±

    Mark started glaring at some people, and it worked better than he thought possible.

    It was a whirlwind that Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he survived, and then it was over.

    ¡°Oh my gods,¡± Mark said, walking down the halls with his team, away from the crowds.

    Eliot laughed. ¡°Bah! That was great fun!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m with Eliot on this one. I truly enjoyed talking to Nightbolt.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°Kaiju teamwork won¡¯t be most work, though?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Surely not¡ª¡±

    And then Mark caught sight of that Domainer guy from earlier, whatever his name was, walking away down a different hallway. He had a team with him, and an older man leading the way in front of him, and the only reason Mark thought of him again was because, in that moment, Mark realized that he was the only team leader, sitting in the front row of the meeting, who did not come up to see Eliot. Mark had ended up talking to every other major team leader. The two superhero guys had been great fun, but Mark couldn¡¯t remember their names at all. They were both fliers, though. Mark remembered that much.

    He couldn¡¯t remember the Domainer¡¯s name, either.

    ¡°Oh shit. What was that guy¡¯s name?¡± Mark asked himself, just as much as he asked Sally, Isoko, and Eliot. When the three of them had no idea who he meant, since there were lots of people, Mark pointed to the disappearing guy, saying, ¡°The white-and-blue-haired¡ª Hmm. They walked away. Can¡¯t see them anymore.¡±

    Eliot hummed.

    Sally said, ¡°I have no idea who anyone was tonight, but I¡¯m gonna be studying them. I know Nightbolt, of the kaiju squad, Kandon, of the general army, and Bert Ironclad, the one who will probably be making the missions for the big teams. And Aurora, of course¡­ It¡¯s weird she wants us to call her by her first name, right?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°She¡¯s like that. She¡¯s very casual to her friends, and she wants to be friends with warriors. The noble houses have to call her ¡®General Valen¡¯, though.¡±

    Sally nodded, but she was unsure. ¡°Yeah¡­ I can see that.¡± She added, ¡°I kinda like that.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I noticed Yoro Windrunner. She¡¯s the major scouter for the army and also a speedster. Another dual-Skill.¡±

    Sally exclaimed, ¡°There were so many! Is that normal on Daihoon?¡±

    ¡°For nobles, yes,¡± Eliot said. ¡°We¡¯re all practically dual-Skilled too, you know.¡±

    Sally scoffed. ¡°The Chosen System is not the same.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Not the same at all.¡±

    As they chatted, they walked down a hallway, down a staircase, and past a few gathering areas with people hanging out, talking about this or that. Mark, Sally, Isoko, and Eliot were halfway to their housing.

    Mark was still trying to think of the name of the white/blue-haired guy.

    Mark said, ¡°The Domainer. The one that makes the ¡®special wards¡¯. He was really pissed at me for some reason. And he had an important name. He was sitting right next to me?¡± He looked at his friends. They had nothing. ¡°Nothing?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I got nothing, sorry.¡±

    Sally smirked. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll wipe the floor with him, and¡ª¡±

    Isoko¡¯s vector tanked as she flinched as she walked. Her face went pale. She said, ¡°Tartu Solari.¡± She added, ¡°The only child of Grand Mage Rekaro Solari, the leader of the Mage Guild at the settlement. The guy who determines if you learn magic or not.¡±

    The four of them stopped in the hall because Isoko had stopped.

    Isoko looked panicked. She whispered, ¡°What did you do?¡±

    ¡°Nothing!¡± Mark said, ¡°He wanted to fight, though, so¡­ I¡¯ll fight? That¡¯s fine, right? Big deal?¡± Mark added, ¡°And he might be the son of some Grand Mage ¡ªwhatever that is¡ª but he¡¯s obviously sandbagging and trying to hide it from everyone, for some reason. He lied about not being able to use his power offensively. He claimed that his Skill was a way to control the battlefield, instead of directly harming something.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Let me know if I need to punch someone, or if I need to prepare for an assassin.¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. He¡¯s just¡ª Oh! Yeah.¡± Mark remembered something else. ¡°He told me he was going to be my first formal challenge in the Hero/Villain Program. So I think he was picking a fight for whatever reason. That¡¯s why I wanted to know his name.¡±

    Isoko went from worried, to calm, and then directly to disbelief. ¡°The Hero/Villain Program is at the settlement?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be there, but some people put some pressure on Aurora because of¡­ Well. You know. Addavein wanted to do the hero thing and Mark is doing the villain thing.¡±

    Isoko went, ¡°Hmm.¡± Then she said, ¡°Okay. That¡¯s fine, then. Sorry. I was just¡­ really concerned¡ª¡± Her eyes went wide. ¡°Are you going to make bets with this guy, Mark? Because you should. You can bet on anything in an official battle. You could even bet on magical training.¡±

    Mark and Sally were both surprised.

    Sally¡¯s surprise rapidly transformed into worry, but she ended up overall smirking, and saying, ¡°Because of course Mark is going to win.¡±

    ¡°Oh well yes. Of course.¡± Isoko waved a dismissive hand, saying, ¡°That much was never in question.¡±

    Mark chuckled.

    Isoko added, ¡°And he¡¯s a villain. He doesn¡¯t have to actually give up whatever he wagers. As a hero, Tartu would need to come to the battle truly prepared to lose something, otherwise he gets a demerit in the system. Enough demerits and he¡¯s relegated to henchman work.¡±

    Mark hadn¡¯t really paid attention to the various possibilities of the H/V-P, but Isoko certainly had.

    Mark said, ¡°I didn¡¯t know about the betting thing.¡±

    Isoko waved a hand, saying, ¡°It¡¯s all rather informal, and if someone is trending on Weekly Showdown or any of the other shows, then losses and stuff don¡¯t matter. Tartu could easily forgo any wager made before an official battle, but you could bring it up every time he battles you from then on and use it against his popularity, which would directly affect his ascent to becoming a popular superhero. I¡¯d imagine that any lingering confrontation would end in you taking a fall and then getting the magical knowledge you wanted after taking a fall.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t pay attention to popular superheroes, but his Uncles had. They were total hero nerds. Mark knew that Glorious Man was the top hero, both in popularity and power, and Mark still looked up to him, just as he had when he was a kid and growing up, but hitting the real world beyond Curtain Protocol had lessened the time that Mark spent watching small and large screens. Mark had never paid attention to the actual mechanics of becoming a popular hero or villain, but Isoko thought a lot about it.

    Sally asked, ¡°Do you know who is popular in this settlement program, Isoko?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I wasn¡¯t even aware that the Hero Program was in the settlement, but¡­ But Nightbolt is a big one, but he was pretty minor at Memphi. He¡¯s obviously looking to get out into the world and make a name for himself. I think he has three kids and one of them was just born, like, a year ago, or something like that. They were born on Daihoon though, so that¡¯s probably why they¡¯re moving to the settlement, since the option came up.

    ¡°Back in Memphi, there¡¯s Credenza. She¡¯s a very popular villain who does a lot of slapstick comedy with heroes who try to fight her. She¡¯s got that whole Luck thing going on, so people trip over their own feet all the time.

    ¡°Sentinel is the big name in Memphi. He¡¯s been top hero for a decade. Frozenfire is nipping at his cape, and he and Credenza have this sort of play off of each other happening that have made them truly popular, and it helps that the two of them working together make killing kaiju easy, since Frozenfire doesn¡¯t have the best control over where his fire and ice go¡ª¡±

    Lights flickered in the hallways, and Isoko went silent. Everyone stilled.

    Mark felt a ripple of worry pass through the world, through every vector all around him.

    And then a chime echoed lightly.

    Half of the lights turned to orange and Quark vibrated in Mark¡¯s pocket, his voice overlapping the voice that spoke in the hallway, in the entire ship.

    ¡°Pursuing kaiju spotted, battle designation: sky snake. Please prepare for increased speed and deterrent actions.¡± And then Quark¡¯s voice separated from the one in the hallway, and Quark spoke directly to Mark and his people, saying, ¡°Mark is requested to report to station C-3, in the middle of the ship, and distribute a Union of resilience and weakness toward the back half of the ship, taking from the front half. Please move now.¡±

    Ah.

    So some shit was going down, huh?

    Mark got moving, and so did everyone else. Some doors slammed open in the hallways, people poking out, trying to see what was happening, and Mark raced by, already beating his heart, weakness and resilience flowing through him, connecting him to everyone else in the ship. There were easily 30 paladins of Freyala here, already running Unions, and Mark connected to all of them, massively expanding their ranges and his own. Isoko was right beside him doing the same.

    They reached the central room that looked like any small meeting room. This one had two big screens that showed the battlezone outside.

    A skysnake, like a gigantic red tube of teeth and claws, flowed through the air, toward the ship. The kaiju was the thickness of the entire ship, and twenty times as long. It was a nightmare in glowing red eyes and reflective red scales, the very air around it seeming to glow with the power of its astral body made real.

    Nightbolt stood on the back of the ship, reaching his hands into the air, while the skysnake undulated closer and closer.

    Mark reached through the world and touched Nightbolt. He instantly slammed all of the power he could into Nightbolt, and the man seemed to glow with darkness. Mark was not the only one empowering the man, but Mark noticed when his power hit the man, and Sam Ranger noticed, too.

    Sam chuckled a little, saying something too quiet to hear on the cameras, and then he lifted his arms and shot out spellforms that Mark easily recognized as bolts. But they were bolts of a different sort. They left trails as they flew off into the night, like lines of black dusted with sparkling stars. The bolts sailed up and away, some of them spinning, some of them jagging back and forth, all of them going up and away, none of them headed toward the monster itself.

    Mark wasn¡¯t worried about Sam¡¯s ¡®terrible¡¯ aim, for he had been briefed on Sam¡¯s Power in the after-meeting, but Mark felt a ripple of worry pass through some of the people of the ship. Not everyone here was from Memphi, or even knew who Sam was at all, but they could see the battle through whatever methods they were using.

    Sam did not actually focus on the power of his bolts, though, which is why he didn¡¯t aim at the beast. The power of a bolt was a normal thing to focus on with that particular spell. Mark had seen good bolts rip right through some monsters, if the monsters were weak to Arcane Powers at all. Most things were weak to Arcane, so that was a good way to do that sort of magic. Bolts fired at monsters could travel 250 meters or more.

    Sam focused on the unspooling of power from those bolts; In the effluence of power left in the wake of their travels. His bolts only went about a hundred meters, like he had thrown out self-propelled spools of thread. The thread lingered, and since the ship was moving forward, the thread flowed toward the skysnake. Some Wind Shapers stood beside Sam and helped guide the flow of those threads better.

    Lines of starry black slipped through the front edges of the kaiju and began carving into the beast, like hot wire laid against soft foam, practically burning onto the monster and parting flesh from flesh. The lines of night failed to get through harder things, like bone and scale, but it didn¡¯t have to. The thread did what it was supposed to do. It carved. The kaiju had lost almost its entire face before it realized it was in danger. It ducked to get away, screaming¡ª

    The scream vibrated the world, and the video feed cut.

    The entire cabin shook under an undulating roar of pain and attack. Mark switched his Union to add resilience everywhere, to everyone in the entire ship, and especially along the Body category. The kaiju itself was too far away to take power from, and not even its astral body had reached the ship, so Mark did what he could for everyone. The roar continued unabated, becoming stronger, heavier, more deadly. Mark felt his bones ache. His heart falter¡ª

    The cry failed before Mark could, and Mark switched his Union back to supporting Nightbolt.

    Eliot was working on the ship, getting the video back on.

    The video came on just in time to see Nightbolt¡¯s last few threads carve through the center of the body of the skysnake, sending both halves crashing through the clouds below. The monster was massive, though, so it took a long time to crash.

    The ship sailed on long before they saw the body actually hit the ocean below.

    The alert ended.

    Mark flicked his Union toward healing anyone that had been injured, and there had been some injuries. From what he was feeling, it seemed like some kids were hurt. Mark healed them fast enough¡ª

    A chime echoed through the ship.

    Aurora¡¯s voice came over the coms, ¡°I am happy to announce that there was not a single casualty. Injuries from the roar, yes, but no casualties at all. This bodes well for our successes on Daihoon. Good job everyone.¡±

    The intercom cut.

    Sally exclaimed, ¡°Holy fuck! That was fucking fast! Both the start and the end! How long was that whole encounter? 5 fucking minutes?¡± She muttered, ¡°Longest fucking 5 minutes of my life. Damn.¡±

    Isoko nodded, her skin fading from platinum to her normal paleness. Mark hadn¡¯t even seen her turn platinum.

    Mark continued to heal the hurt people out there, as he asked, ¡°The ship is only made of tier 4 materials, right? Because that sonic attack kinda ripped through¡­ a lot. Should I be worried? I am worried. I thought it could boost to tier 7 during an attack.¡±

    With his eyes half-closed, and his attention far, far from here, Eliot still managed to say, ¡°The sonic attack was a strong one, and our defenses were active, Mark. That was with our defenses fully active. That was¡­ a dangerous kaiju. The repairs are¡­ going¡­ Pardon. I need to concentrate.¡± And then he closed his eyes all the way.

    Isoko took a seat to the side, sighing a little.

    Sally nodded, and sat down beside her, saying, ¡°Will we be coming here often? We could¡­ like. Sleep here, right?¡±

    ¡°Instead of having to rush over here,¡± Isoko said, nodding as she finished Sally¡¯s thought. ¡°We could just stay here.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°Yes. That.¡±

    An hour later, Eliot was done with repairs on the ship, though Mark was done a lot earlier than that. They ended up moving into a room just off of that central meeting room, but they kept the actual room clear.

    As Sally put her stuff away in the new room, she said, ¡°You know¡­ I didn¡¯t see a single kaiju in my entire time over on Daihoon, or in traveling back and forth both other times.¡±

    Eliot laughed.

    Mark smirked, saying, ¡°Lucky.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ve seen thousands, but mostly from far away. That¡¯s the third closest I have ever been to one.¡± She looked at Sally. ¡°It¡¯s fucking terrifying, right?¡±

    Sally shuddered. ¡°My gods, yes it is.¡±

 131

    The ship rumbled, jostling Mark¡¯s bed.

    Mark woke, terrified¡­ and for no good reason at all, it seemed.

    Mark could already feel the world with his Unionsense and he knew nothing was happening, aside from all the normal stuff that was happening here on Grey Whale. A few thousand people and a few hundred animals in storage were all doing their own things. Most of them were focused on each other, their vectors pointed directly at each other, or at the people in the room they were with, or on the world beyond, looking at screens or through the few windows of the ship. There weren¡¯t many windows at all, most of them relegated to the bridge. The animals down in cargo hold 3 were all sedated and half asleep, and kept that way by the people on watch.

    No reason to wake terrified.

    Mark grumbled and blinked in the darkness of his top bunk, while the bunk below him was empty. Sally was already up, then? And absent. It felt like Eliot¡¯s bunk, on top of Isoko¡¯s bunk on the other side of the room, was also empty, though Mark couldn¡¯t actually see that space, not through the curtains over his own sleeping space. The lights were on out there, though.

    Mark looked at the cracks in the curtains, between the bed and the walls, where light spilled through like cracks in doors.

    Did Mark want to wake up, or not?

    Eliot and Sally were elsewhere, but Isoko was still sleeping on the other side of the room, probably behind her own drawn curtains.

    With a lifting of his adamantium limbs, Mark brought Quark to himself¡ª

    Bright silver light almost blinded him. Mark groaned a little, blinking a lot, taking a moment to adjust. Quark took a moment to adjust, too, his brightness dialing down. Soon enough, Mark could check the time.

    It was 8:38 AM, January 4th, 2049.

    Mark had barely been able to sleep, due to excitement and the rumble of the ship, so he had put himself to sleep around 3 AM. Five hours of sleep was not enough. Eliot and Sally had slept fewer hours, it seemed, since they were up and about¡­ wherever they were. Mark tried to feel out where they were, to see if he could sense Sally and Eliot through all of the other vectors out there.

    It was like ¡®looking¡¯ at thousands of arrows that all looked the same. Finding Sally and Eliot amongst all of that was an impossible task.

    He wasn¡¯t too worried. There were lots of people on the ship.

    Mark put himself back to sleep for another hour.

    When he woke up the second time, he was feeling a lot better, and Isoko was awake, too.

    Mark opened the curtain on his bed and looked over at Isoko, laying in her own bed and poking at her phone. Mark said, ¡°Morning!¡±

    ¡°Morning,¡± Isoko said, grinning a little, but not looking up from her phone. And then she looked up, and asked, ¡°Breakfast?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, yes.¡±

    - -

    Mark dug into his waffles and syrup, savoring the sweetness. Isoko ate her own hashbrown and soup breakfast, which was akin to her usual fare. Usually she wanted fish, but there was no fish in this ship. Mark usually wanted bacon, but there was none of that, either.

    Mark said, ¡°I think I¡¯m hung up on the lack-of-meat-thing.¡±

    ¡°You want to go find whoever farms in this place? Ask them about future developments?¡±

    ¡­ Did he? Mmm...

    Mark glanced over to a screen hanging on the wall that showed their current location. At 12 hours into the journey, Grey Whale was above the western coast of South America. They were about 4 hours away from the Southern Crossing, but that could change if they met another kaiju. The ship had already been rerouted once, adding a few more hours to the trip, but once they got through the Southern Crossing and they were on Daihoon, they¡¯d be rerouted dozens of times to avoid all of the kaiju out there. Assuming the Southern Crossing went okay, of course.

    As for Earth and Daihoon, Addavein had killed the big named threats, but new threats rose all the time, and it had been months since Addavein had been active. There were always new kaiju out there.

    ¡­ That damned dragon should be awake by now, right?

    Mark ignored that thought and said to Isoko, ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go see the farmers.¡±

    Using his actual hands, Mark brought Quark out onto the table... and then he realized that they weren¡¯t under Curtain Protocol, even though there were kids eating breakfast with their parents over there. Mark could freely use his Powers if he wanted¡­ But. No. It was still rude to use Powers in public¡­ But he was a villain now, right? He should use his Powers all the time, shouldn¡¯t he?

    Hmm.

    Mark continued to think about what was ¡®proper¡¯, but he decided to use his actual body to move stuff when he could, for now, even though they weren¡¯t under Curtain Protocol anymore. With fingers to his phone, Mark started flipping through a few screens, searching for some farmer information¡ª

    Quark popped up with a message at the top of the screen.

    Mark clicked on it and read the message, which was an email, sent on priority channels. It was from Aurora and¡­ Oh. That was a big message, huh?

    Mark breathed deep as he started reading, saying, ¡°I think I need to make an appointment with some bankers¡­ and...¡±

    Mark continued to read.

    Isoko raised an eyebrow as she sipped her soup. She put her soup down and asked, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    A lot of things were up.

    Aurora had sent Mark an entire itinerary of people he needed to see, when he could.

    - -

    Dear Mark,

    Below is a condensed list of people I believe you should contact for your various needs, along with people you should contact for the needs of the settlement.

    1) House Metallic:

    Marigold Metallic will be doing all the banking for the settlement. She and her family have a long history with mithril blooded and other metal blooded people, primarily in securing the interests of those people, and making all of them incredibly wealthy. Consider House Metallic like the Collective putting paladins onto the List to protect True Healers, but instead of paladins of various kinds protecting the True Healers, House Metallic has paladins of Pluta and various others protecting the metal blooded. Before the paladins came along, House Metallic had the dragon¡¯s share of protection duties in the Aluatha Empire, and they still do, but they are high in standing with the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity, and that influence is large in their organization.

    Speak to Countess Marigold Metallic when you wish to discuss your situation. I have not informed them of your situation. They will brush you off if you attempt to approach them at ground level, without spilling secrets. You should insist on speaking to Marigold, and only then should you spill secrets.

    2) Mage Society:

    Grand Mage Rekaro Solari is the representative for the Mage Society. All magical learning is done through him, along with all enforcement of Magic Secrecy. Ask him for what you asked me, and when he denies you flight magic, then tell him I have promised to get you flight magic in other ways. He might come around after that. Attempting to go through the proper channels first is still the proper thing to do.

    3) Learning metalwork:

    There are many ways you could go with this. Tulo Khava has been read in on your situation, and he is eager to speak with you. He will probably give you to someone else in the Builder¡¯s Guild, though. Khava is an extremely busy man.

    If he hands you off to someone else, then you should speak to the Builder¡¯s Guild, or the Artificer¡¯s Guild, depending on how you want to proceed with metalworking. Their information is public, and you can choose someone there to help you with those things. The Builder¡¯s Guild is mundane forging, making weapons and buildings and all sorts of things like that. The Artificer¡¯s Guild makes artifacts. Both are needed in the creation of a flying castle.

    4) Becoming nobility:

    Make a house, get a family, have a structure in place for heirs that can pick up the same obligations as you, and I will make you a noble at that time. For you, this means your children will need to be adamantiumkinetics. The same sorts of obligations hold true for anyone else wishing to become a noble. If, however, you wish to attach to an existing noble house, then that is a different path altogether.

    5) For the needs of the settlement:

    Kaiju Team Leader, Sam Ranger / Nightbolt. See him regarding assistance for kaiju attacks, and eventual lead against kaiju yourself. Don¡¯t expect to be a lead member against a kaiju for years. Do expect to work with those who can kill kaiju at the present moment. You did a wonderful showing with Nightbolt and that skysnake. We expect more of that.

    Tactical Team Leader, Bert Ironclad, no hero/villain name. He will be who you will work under for normal settlement protection detail. The Slayer organization does not exist in the settlement yet, but you will still be counted as a Slayer for the purposes of advancement in that arena. Killing big-ish monsters will be our expectation of you, and you will get a portion of the money we make from the big monster kills, as per normal agreements already made.

    Agriculture and Resource Management Leader, Reeni Thumb. ARM is responsible for feeding us all. I have heard you wish for meat in your diets. Speak with Reeni if you wish to help with something along those lines. Perhaps growing food for fish? I am unsure of what, exactly, you could help with, but the option is there, and Reeni desires to speak with you about various things.

    ~ General Aurora Valen, settlement project leader

    - -

    Mark looked up from the email and saw Isoko and he realized he had been reading at the table. ¡°Oh. Sorry. Uh.¡±

    Isoko asked again, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    Mark had a small think. And then he said, ¡°So yesterday a lot of stuff happened and I forgot to tell you some stuff that Aurora told me, about flight magics. We need to stop in a side room and I can tell you.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s eyebrows raised, her vector turning joyful and focused. And then she looked at her food and finished it off as quickly as she could. Mark chuckled and rapidly ate his own breakfast, and soon the two of them were out of there, and back to their own rooms.

    Mark shut the door and watched the outline of the door flicker on. The privacy enchantments were nothing special here, and Mark fully expected no secrets to be truly safe at all, but taking small measures to protect oneself was always the right thing to do.

    Heck! It was possible that getting the whole settlement project together onto a boat and having them all interact for a week was part of the plan; of seeing problems arise before they became real problems. Someone ¡ªpossibly a lot of someones!¡ª were likely doing a lot of spying.

    But whatever.

    Mark said, ¡°Aurora wants me to meet with the Grand Mage and ask him about flight magics, first, and if he denies me then I¡¯m to tell him that Aurora will have House Valen teach me those flight magics, instead. That means you¡¯ll be learning them too, no matter what happens today or in the future. But we¡¯re going to go through the proper channels, first.¡±

    Isoko had a deep moment of thinking and plotting, her eyes sliding to the side as her vector went inward, and then flashed out in many directions like the sun flickering behind an eclipse. She was happy, but also worried. And then she focused on Mark as much as she could, and said, ¡°If he denies us then let it lay for a few days. Maybe a week or more. Maybe ask again when we get to the settlement and have some time to get set up. And then ask him again. There¡¯s no need to rush this. Learning even one spell takes a full year at any arcanaeum, and those one-years never get the full spellwork anyway. So we can play the long game¡­¡± She smiled. ¡°But that makes me really happy, Mark. Thank you for including me.¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°Of course I included you!¡±

    Isoko grinned a little. And then she cheerfully exclaimed, ¡°Let¡¯s go see the Grand Mage!¡± She was bouncy, and Mark loved to see it. And then she waggled her eyebrows and teased, ¡°And maybe Tartu didn¡¯t badmouth you to his father.¡±

    ¡°Oh gods,¡± Mark said, wondering what the fuck was wrong with Tartu, but Isoko just laughed. Mark brushed away concerns, saying, ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine!¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not!¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes and asked Quark, ¡°Can you please make us an appointment with Grand Mage Solari?¡±

    Quark chimed, Isoko squee¡¯d, and Quark said, ¡°Grand Mage Solari¡¯s AI has returned that he is busy except for in emergencies. Appointments are available after the crossing, and he is not to be disturbed until after they reach Daihoon. Would you like to leave a message?¡±

    ¡­ Huh.

    Mark was suddenly unsure of how to proceed. If he left a message¡­ Mark was sure to encounter the guy in the hallways, and maybe even meet him directly, and then what would he say? What would happen then? Would Solari¡­ dislike Mark for attempting to talk to him? Did¡­ was that a valid worry? Or was this just some new anxiety?

    Isoko was unsure, too, but when Mark looked to her she rapidly waved her arms across her chest as she shook her head; she was not going to make any decisions for Mark.

    Mark hummed as he looked at Quark, on his phone. And then he made a decision to leave a message. ¡°Please tell him this: Hello, this is Mark Careed, villain name Blackvein. I would like to be able to talk to you about learning some magic. My teammate Isoko Kanno is also interested. Thank you for your time.¡± Mark added, ¡°End message.¡±

    Quark beeped, then said, ¡°Message delivered.¡±

    Mark put Quark away and looked to Isoko. ¡°I gotta meet with a banker, too, which is solo, but I also need to meet the kaiju people and other people.¡±

    Isoko got a concerned look on her face. ¡°You gonna sell your adamantium?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to, but¡­ Sally makes a good point, you know? I need a good bank¡ª Well. An accountant. These people on the ship sell all the mithril that the mithrilkinetics make. House Metallic is their name.¡± Mark waved a hand, attempting to encompass a lot with just a gesture. ¡°It¡¯s a thing. Not sure how big of a thing, but I get the impression that metal is a big thing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It is. So¡­ I¡¯m gonna do my own thing, and you should go do that. It sounds super important, especially if you¡¯re going to tell them you¡¯re adamantium blooded¡ª You haven¡¯t told them yet, have you?¡±

    ¡°No. Aurora read in some builder named Tulo Khava, in some Builder¡¯s Guild, because he makes the adamantium weapons, but the only people who know, for sure, are you, Sally, Eliot, my uncles¡­ Lola, David¡­ Er. Probably a lot of people, actually. But here? Just 5 people. Gonna be 6, soon.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Mark was worried about that growing number, in an existential sort of way, but it was what it was.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be fine?¡± Isoko said, not sounding too sure of herself.

    Mark hummed.

    ¡°Anyway. If you¡¯re doing that, then I¡¯m gonna go check out the Tactical Unit, under Bert Ironclad.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°We need to think about a party bank account, as well.¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°Not doing banking today! You have fun with numbers and business like a proper noble. I¡¯m gonna relax at the theater and meet new people. The churches are doing outreach programs and I mean to meet all of our new paladin neighbors. I expect I won¡¯t be partying much with many of them, since we¡¯re a team, but most of them are going to be distributed out to the brawny teams. That might happen to us, too, occasionally.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ I should meet them all, too.¡±

    Isoko laughed once, then asked, ¡°Gonna try something besides glaring?¡±

    A flash of embarrassment colored Mark¡¯s face. ¡°So that was a misstep, I admit. I shouldn¡¯t have glared at people last night.¡±

    Isoko smirked.

    Mark defended himself, ¡°But they were all talking about Addavein! Shit, man¡­ I don¡¯t know about him. Why do they expect me to know about him?¡±

    Isoko took a moment, looking at Mark, and then she said, ¡°We haven¡¯t seen him in a while. He should be done with his nap, right? So I¡¯m worried. Most people are. Keeping track of kaiju-sized problems is an expectation of any big power in any city. I don¡¯t think you got a chance to talk to Nightbolt about that, but that¡¯s one of his expectations of you, and the others. And you, especially, should be keeping track of Addavein.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh. I guess¡­ that¡¯s a good point.¡±

    With less concern in her voice and a whole lot more interest, and only because she was making an effort, Isoko changed the topic, ¡°As for your villainy! The glaring was a good start, but you got any real idea of how you want to play it?¡±

    Mark readily took to the conversational distraction, saying, ¡°I like the idea of a tyrant king.¡±

    ¡°I like that one! But I also liked that goofy thug that you tried for a week.¡±

    ¡°You liked that one? I felt stupid, and people looked at me like I was stupid. I¡¯m not gonna be stupid. Nope.¡±

    ¡°That was the charm of it, though!¡±

    Mark just shook his head, having too many words to say about the ¡®stupid thug¡¯ persona that he didn¡¯t know where to start.

    Isoko said, ¡°Well I¡¯m going to be a princess, you¡¯re going to be a tyrant king, and I was talking to Sally and she wants to be a landlord or something like that, so she could probably play a role like that if she chooses to do the HVP thing, and we can all be evil overlords together. Eliot is going to do something similar, I¡¯m sure, but he¡¯s still riding high on how much popularity he has right now, so I haven¡¯t gotten to talk to him about all of those specifics.¡±

    Mark had an idea. ¡°Want to go see the HVP people? There has to be a representative up in here somewhere, right? We could get some guidance, or whatever?¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow. And then she said, ¡°Nope! I¡¯m not on the clock and am, in fact, resting right now. You¡¯re the only one who wants to go at full power, full time.¡± She smirked. ¡°Which is good for a king!¡±

    Mark chuckled. ¡°The bankers are also still working!¡±

    ¡°Evil never sleeps, this is true.¡±

    ¡°Ah! So you¡¯re a terrible villain, then.¡±

    Isoko laughed.

    - -

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mister Careed, but you cannot see the Countess today. She is in casual meetings for the remainder of the trip. I, however, can assist you with any banking needs you might have, until we reach the Crossing, and for the two days inside Endless Daihoon. When we get back to Daihoon then normal operations will resume.¡±

    The temporary offices of House Metallic and Bank Metallic were the same rooms, located on L-6, on the fourth floor. They were extravagant, but not much more than all the other rooms in this hallway. Ornate carpets added blues and golds to wooden hallways, that were only wood because the wood overlaid the metal walls to make it more homey. Ornate maps held on the hallway walls, next to screens that displayed views of the outside, like massive windows. There were no actual windows, of course. Except for in a few locations, the first 5 meters of the exterior of the ship was a defensive layer and a maintenance zone.

    House Metallic shared this hallway with House Valen, which was a bit of a surprise. House Valen¡¯s forward facing operation was offices for the army and some sort of apothecary, all of which were filled with people, so it was just as public as House Metallic¡¯s banking operations.

    Mark hadn¡¯t known that House Valen was a bunch of healers.

    He kinda wondered how they were doing, as a house with areas of interest, now that Freyala and Hearthswell were here and offering healing to everyone, and in much better ways than mortals ever could. House Valen¡¯s apothecary didn¡¯t look very popular, but Mark hadn¡¯t checked it out much.

    Apparently Kandon Valen, Aurora¡¯s brother and the person in charge of military operations, was in his offices over there, but Mark hadn¡¯t checked that out yet. Maybe later. Maybe not! Mark was here to see the banking.

    Mark had gotten in a small line at Metallic¡¯s offices, to see a teller, and now Mark sat with the guy, across from a desk, while the guy had a tablet propped up in front of him. The guy also had what appeared to be a script for certain subjects, because Mark had heard him say that exact same ¡®you can¡¯t see Marigold¡¯-spiel to two other people, so far.

    Mark was prepared to be denied, though.

    Mark looked at the guy¡¯s name tag, which read ¡®Georgio¡¯, and said, ¡°It¡¯s about adamantium-related things, Georgio, and it¡¯s important. Historically important.¡±

    Georgio didn¡¯t care. He remained professional as he said, ¡°Would you like to leave a message? Countess Marigold may or may not respond at her leisure.¡±

    ¡­ For a moment, Mark was confused.

    He had assumed that saying something was ¡®adamantium-related¡¯ would have gotten him¡­ something.

    But¡­

    Ah.

    Georgio was stonewalling him.

    Mark almost asked why the guy was doing that, but Mark just said, ¡°I would like to sell some adamantium¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not buying from the dragon. Ever. Would you like some help in other matters?¡±

    Now that was clearly not part of any script.

    Mark paused.

    And then Mark nodded. ¡°Understood! I am not planning on being his go-between, either. I still want a really good personal accountant that will be able to handle millions of goldleaf.¡±

    Georgio was professional as he nodded and then he tapped away at the screen in front of him, as he said, ¡°Understand that we will not be accepting any transactions that have a hint of being made through that dragon, and the sale of any of his adamantium will not go through us at all. We will have nothing to do with Addavein. If this is amenable to you, then I can give you the names of two accountants that meet your desires.¡± Georgio stopped typing and Looked at Mark, asking, ¡°Where do you think your millions of goldleaf will be coming from?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s between Countess Marigold Metallic and I, but I can say that I won¡¯t be selling Addavein¡¯s adamantium at all.¡± Mark added, ¡°But I do expect to make a lot of money on this villain-thing that I have going on with the Hero/Villain Program, and it won¡¯t all be reputable.¡±

    Georgio took that all in stride, though Mark could tell his vector flashed with deep intensity, and some of the people behind Mark in line, at the door, were listening in a bit too much. Georgio tapped a few more times at his tablet, as he said, ¡°I will make sure she gets the message, Mister Careed.¡± He stopped typing, and added, ¡°And you should have a message in your email regarding various accounting services. Thank you for coming by and showing interest in Metallic Bank. We look forward to serving your needs.¡±

    Mark stood up, saying, ¡°Thanks for your time.¡±

    Mark left House Metallic¡¯s offices and stood in the opulent hallway for a little bit.

    The army offices of House Valen had a short line, so Mark contemplated going there, but he decided to do something else. His gaze moved to the right, to the anomaly in the hallway. The apothecary.

    People inside of the apothecary were all looking at stuff on the shelves, beyond Mark¡¯s sight. None of the people coming out of there had any bags at all. So they weren¡¯t buying anything at all. Mark moved toward the entrance. There were shelves in there, but nothing solid¡­ Oh. Pictures? They were selling pictures? Well. No. They were informing people what they would sell, if they were actually selling things.

    Weird, but okay.

    Mark kinda wondered what an apothecary even did, when there was magical healing. Like, sure, maybe not everyone had a healer on hand¡ª

    Ahh!

    Mark had answered his own question. He simply needed to think about it for a second.

    With a little bit of a smile at figuring out something that was incredibly obvious, Mark ignored the apothecary and walked down the hall¡­

    But then he turned around and went back to the healing shop and stepped inside.

    An older woman shopkeep stood beside a desk and the walls had pictures on them, arranged as though they were on shelves. People, in twos and threes, were looking at the walls. They were mostly young people, like Mark, and he was pretty sure they were all brawnies, and warriors, too. One guy noticed Mark, and he jerked, causing his friend to turn and look Mark¡¯s way, too. They both decided to ignore Mark, as countless other people had already done today.

    Mark wondered if he had glared too much last night¡­ But? This was fine. He was going to do the ¡®tyrant king¡¯ thing for his villain persona, and maybe¡­ Maybe he would even take out his adamantium and float it around his head like a crown. That¡¯d be neat!

    Anyway, this was not an apothecary.

    They had pictures on the walls, arranged in a shelf-like manner, that showed potions and poultices and rocks of some kind, and herbs growing in pots, and bottle after bottle of pills. Explanations of the products were written in small handwritten font below the photo. Everything was in color, and everything was arranged like this was a real shop, but this was not a real shop at all.

    By the entrance, Mark read the only sign in the place.

    What you see here is a rather standard facsimile of a House Valen Apothecary.

    Magic doesn¡¯t work as well on Earth as it does on Daihoon, and one of the reasons for this is mana pressure. The Veil separates Earth from Daihoon, making sure all ambient mana goes to Daihoon, instead of lingering on Earth. This mana pressure ensures that magic functions well on Daihoon, but degrades fast on Earth.

    The Veil is not perfect, at all, but it does ensure a few facts of life:

    Monsters on Earth are weaker compared to monsters on Daihoon.

    Magic on Daihoon is a lot stronger than on Earth.

    The differences of tiers is exaggerated on Daihoon. You might have been able to get away with a tier 5 sword swinging at a tier 9 monster on Earth, but the same is not true on Daihoon at all.

    And on Daihoon, you have magical items all over the place. These magical items bridge the gap of tiers, but in smaller, more mundane ways, these magical items are exactly the same as appliances in your kitchens, and bandages and antiseptic in your cupboards. Imagine this apothecary on Daihoon the same as a grocery store pharmacy aisle. Bandages are the same, but instead of antiseptics, as on Earth, you would buy potions and poultices on Daihoon.

    Mark nodded a little, and then he looked around.

    As he read descriptions under photos of products, he mostly ignored how the people in the room gradually all noticed him, and focused on him. One pair of women walked out after they noticed him. One trio of guys, who had been talking with the shopkeep about ¡®mana density¡¯ and ¡®product expiration timeline¡¯, wrapped up their conversation and walked away as quickly as they could, though one of the guys wanted to stay and continue to talk with the shopkeep.

    And then the rest of the people walked out, though they tried to be calm about it. Their vectors showed great relief after they left, though.

    But the shopkeep was still there. She was an older woman with greying hair and a comfortable softness to her vector, even when all the other people left, which caused her to sigh. She seemed sad that the groups had all left. She had been talking eagerly about healing products until Mark had shown up.

    The shopkeep asked, ¡°Got anything I can help you with, Mark?¡±

    Mark flinched. He turned and said, ¡°It was not my intention to drive them away. Sorry about that.¡±

    The woman waved a hand toward the door, saying, ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. This is just a primer to help people learn where they need to go to get the healing when healers aren¡¯t present. What brought you in here, though?¡±

    ¡°Well, actually¡­ exactly that. We have enough healers in the settlement, right? That was a pretty top priority, according to what I spoke of with Eliot. Also, I had no idea that House Valen was a healing house.¡± Mark added, ¡°Also, uh, pardon me. You have me at a disadvantage, as I do not know your name.¡±

    The older woman arched an eyebrow, and then smiled a little bit. ¡°Elaria Valen. A pleasure to meet you, Mark.¡± Without a moment of pause, she looked at the door and asked, ¡°I¡¯d love to tell you all about the history of the House and our experiences with healing magics. Would you care for a cup of tea and a sit?¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°Sure! I would love that¡ª Ah. Er¡­ I had planned on getting¡­ to a lot of different places, before the Crossing, before everything shuts down. Can I take up the offer later?¡±

    ¡°Of course! See you later, Mark. Nice to meet you.¡±

    Mark kept his smile going. ¡°Nice to meet you as well, Elaria.¡±

 132

    Mark stepped off of the stairs, into a hallway at the back of the ship. It was one of the normal hallways; just steel and screens to show the exterior, if people wanted to look. It held the temporary ¡®offices¡¯ of the Hero/Villain Program, if you wanted to call them that. Mark wasn¡¯t sure that he would call a servitor standing in an alcove with a sign over its head that read ¡®Hero Program!¡¯ as an ¡®office¡¯.

    Mark would get to that in a moment, though, because his world turned wonky as he saw two people together whom should not be together.

    Kardi, the Luck girl from Slayer HQ, with her spellguns strapped to her hips, and with a grin on her face. Her vector had been here and there, and toward the HVP servitor in the alcove, but now she was fully focused on Mark.

    And then there was Tartu Solari, wearing his white, with his close-cropped blue and white hair, and a scowl on his face. He had been focused here and there, but now he was focused on getting around Mark, and leaving Mark behind. To a much lesser extent, he had some sort of interest in Kardi, but Mark couldn¡¯t understand that interest at a simple glance.

    What Mark could understand was what they said to him.

    ¡°Mark!¡± Kardi exclaimed, thrilled to be here.

    ¡°Mark,¡± Tartu muttered, wanting to be gone.

    Mark went, ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    Kardi giggled and happily thumbed at the servitor floating to the side, as she said, ¡°The HVP rep is a bot! Can you believe it?! I thought they¡¯d send a real person, but all they sent was a basic AI!¡±

    Mark glanced at the servitor. It was a floating ball with a cone for a base and another floating ball for a head. Eye-lights faked an expression of calm on the servitor¡¯s face, while its insides were empty; no vector at all. It was just a plain AI. Before Mark had walked into the hallway, he had thought that the two people in the alcove down here were one guest and one agent of the Program, but nope. It was Kardi and Tartu.

    Mark tried to make small talk, ¡°That would explain why I got such a quick response from the request for a meeting... No one else responded¡­ Aside from your father¡¯s AI, Tartu. He told me meetings wouldn¡¯t happen until after the crossing, if then. Sorry I didn¡¯t recognize your name yesterday.¡±

    Tartu looked vindicated, but also smug. ¡°There were many things you didn¡¯t recognize.¡±

    And then Tartu pushed past Mark and out the door, colliding shoulders with Mark on the way past.

    Mark just¡­ let it go? What was happening here?

    Mark did not let it go. He followed the guy for a few steps, saying, ¡°Sorry! Sorry. We got off on the wrong foot, and¡ª¡±

    Mark slapped face first into an invisible wall, bouncing off of something semi-solid. He maintained his footing, so he hadn¡¯t fallen, but¡­ what the fuck?

    Tartu glanced backward, chuckling, and then he walked forward.

    ¡­ Had he¡­ had he put up one of those ¡®domainer¡¯ things? To block Mark following him?

    He had!

    Mark was too stunned to do anything but just watch as Tartu grinned and walked away¡ª

    Kardi touched his shoulder a bit too much as she passed, squeezing his bicep, maybe, saying, ¡°He¡¯s a bit grumpy!¡± She let go and skipped forward, twirling in the air, smiling brightly, saying, ¡°You got nice arms, Mark!¡± And then she kept going.

    She passed through whatever invisible wall had been there.

    ¡­ Mark touched the air in front of him. There was nothing there.

    Mark was alone in the hallway so he had no problem muttering, ¡°The fuck,¡± and then he walked toward the alcove of the Hero/Villain Program.

    Mark shivered, and he wasn¡¯t sure what part of that whole exchange was more weird.

    There was just something about Kardi that Mark did not like. That casual squeeze as she walked by, and how she talked to him like they had been friends forever; that is what freaked him out. It was fucking weird.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    And now she was working with Tartu?

    Mark asked the servitor, ¡°Are Tartu and Kardi a hero team?¡±

    ¡°Greetings, Mark Careed, designation ¡®Blackvein¡¯!¡± said the servitor, its animated eyes blinking, focusing on him. ¡°Kardi Smith, hero designation ¡®Luckygun¡¯, and Tartu Solari, hero designation ¡®Spherix¡¯, have become a hero team! We welcome them into the brawl as new heroes and wish them well on their ascent to superhero status!¡±

    ¡°¡­ Fuck.¡±

    The servitor waited, just floating there, mag-locked to itself and to some sort of metal briefcase on the floor. It looked like one of those traveling servitor models that you set down and let work autonomously. It was not something that you left completely alone, though.

    Mark looked at the briefcase, and then at the servitor. ¡°Is there a person here I can speak with?¡±

    ¡°Noel Oliphant, my owner, is the representative for the Hero/Villain Program for the settlement project, and he is currently busy in meetings. He maintains a link to myself, if I should come under attack. Do you need to speak to a person?¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Mark said, feeling a complete disinterest in remaining here to talk with an AI. He flicked out Quark and checked the time. It was almost 11 AM. ¡°Are we close enough to see the Southern Crossing yet?¡±

    Quark flickered a map onto his screen¡ª

    The servitor in the room projected a map into the air, and said, ¡°We are 10 minutes from being able to view the Southern Crossing for ourselves.¡±

    The map showed that the hovership was barely south of the most southern tip of South America, Cape Horn. They were somewhere above the Drake Passage. Antarctica waited ahead, a land that had once been frozen solid and which was now warm and flourishing, though the oceans around it were still partially frozen in places.

    The Southern Crossing was a permanent fixture in the air beyond the green coasts, rising up from the center of the continent like a rush of rainbows. It was supposed to be one of the most impressive sights of the Two Worlds. Both Crossings were magical things, really, but the Southern Crossing had cities on the coasts. The Northern Crossing was pretty much just water.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard as he realized he wanted to see the Southern Crossing right now.

    Mark told the servitor, ¡°I¡¯ll book an appointment with Noel to ask him about the HVP at the Settlement¡­ Er.¡± Mark thumbed toward the empty hallway, asking, ¡°Tartu and Kardi? What were they here for? Exactly?¡± Mark had already asked that question, but he hadn¡¯t asked the important one, which he had never expected to need to ask. ¡°Were they¡­ talking about me?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure if the servitor was even capable of answering such an impolite question. Divulging information about other people was something basic AIs were specifically trained not to do.

    But then something weird happened.

    The servitor, which had been completely empty, with no vector to speak of, gained a vector. Like a thread unraveling, Mark Unionsensed as a lack of life became someone poking their head into the room, to see what was going on.

    The servitor blinked, and then said, ¡°I cannot answer questions about the nature of other people in the Hero/Villain Program without their express consent.¡±

    Mark raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hello, Noel.¡±

    The thread inside the servitor thickened, becoming a cable.

    The servitor, which had been floaty and distinctly non-human, seemed to almost sigh, its little floating bits flexing up and down, its body adopting a little bit of a tilt, its animated eyes becoming focused. If Mark wasn¡¯t mistaken, Noel was inhabiting the body of his servitor, and he was a bit miffed.

    Noel said, ¡°Hello, Blackvein. What brings you here today?¡±

    ¡°I came here to get a feel for the HVP in the settlement. What¡¯s gonna happen and all that.¡±

    ¡°Nothing for a while, but maybe something will happen and Aurora will slap me around some,¡± Noel said. ¡°I hope not!¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°Uh¡­ Okay?¡±

    ¡°Luckygun and Spherix are both aiming to swindle you out of adamantium through the program, relegating you to healer duty. That¡¯s the angle they¡¯re going to play. I told them ten times that they¡¯re not going to be allowed to do that¡­ We should have this conversation in person. I¡¯m at the main viewing balcony with a bunch of nobles and shit to see the Southern Crossing in person. Want to come over here?¡±

    Mark had no trouble at all saying, ¡°See you there.¡±

 133

    A great press of people aimed to get up out of the ship, to get onto the roof, to watch the Southern Crossing come into view. They crowded the hallways and the stairwells, and soldiers and crew were on hand to direct traffic as best they could. Some people were being directed to head down, to Cargo 1, where they expected to open the doors and let people view from there. The roof did not have enough space for everyone, after all.

    Mark avoided all of that and went down a different hallway, to where an army guy guarded the hallway. Mark was expected.

    With an easy stride and prepared to face what had to be a whole bunch of powerful people up ahead, Mark walked down the hallway, to step onto an open balcony that had to be 15 meters by 15 meters. It was the main viewing deck. Below the space was the bridge. Above the viewing deck was a whole stack of floors, and above that, about 20 meters up, was the roof of the ship. The roof was packed with people, all of them turned south to see the upcoming Crossing. The bridge, below the viewing deck, was packed with people, all of them mildly concerned, but in a normal sort of way.

    The viewing deck was lightly filled with nobles, most of them gathered around standing tables, drinking drinks and eating small things on small dishes. They spoke of business and plans, while the walls that would have protected this space were unfolded, providing a panorama view of the south. Servers wore green army suits and patrons wore nice, noble clothes, with frills for the women and pressed collars for the men. Mark spotted Aurora in the crowd, wearing her army pantsuit and her shouldercape, chatting with someone in a pale yellow dress. Over there was Nightbolt. Mark saw Grand Mage Solari, and Mark almost wanted to talk to him, but he decided to let that problem lie, for now. Mark recognized some of the people¡ª

    Eliot and Sally stood closer to the open walls. Sally was easy to spot, being as big as she was¡ª

    And then there was the view.

    The Southern Crossing.

    It was a wall of rainbows beyond the edge of the viewing platform. Mark was only able to see some of it. A small slice, really. The Crossing passed into the sky overhead, but Mark couldn¡¯t see that part at all. Not from this angle.

    He remembered being in a classroom at Citadel, listening to Orissa talk about the separations of Earth and Daihoon, and how Earth¡¯s astral body was kinda twisted off of the ends of Earth, lining up with the magnetosphere, the whole of Earth looking like a piece of hard candy, wrapped in plastic and twisted at the ends to seal it in. Or at least that¡¯s how Orissa had drawn the image on the chalkboard, and spoken of the sight.

    Mark felt the people overhead, as they focused forward, their vectors bright with rapturous interest. Sally and Eliot were both transfixed by the Crossing. Most of the nobles here had seen it many times already, so they didn¡¯t care that much; they were more focused on each other.

    Mark walked, almost on air, around the main throng of the party, toward Sally and Eliot. A server offered him a glass of bubbly white wine, and Mark took the glass along the way, sipping it a little, adding a sensation of sweet bubbliness to his already light steps.

    Mark stepped beside Sally and Eliot, and Sally noticed him and smiled.

    She said, ¡°I might eventually end up jaded by the sight like all these nobles, but that day is not today.¡±

    Right. She had seen this before.

    The Southern Crossing was an aurora made real.

    A fantasy touching Earth.

    Antarctica was somewhere up ahead, beyond the blue ocean, and all of that land was green due to the influence of the Crossing, but from here, all Mark could see was water, blue and wide, and ribbons of color stretching upward like the great trunk of some sort of colorful tree. From east to west, it seemed that all of the world was rainbows flowing upward and downward at the same time. The distant lights rising from the ocean were like mangrove roots, or cypress roots, or like massive mountain ridges made of light and color.

    Mark spotted lands beyond the color, deep in those cracks of bent reality, like paradise hidden by radiance.

    And then paradise was gone, and Mark could only see ribbons of rainbow light.

    The green was paradise, the red was fire and armageddon, the brown was mountains and boulders, and the blue was oceans flowing in every direction. White was clouds. And then the sights vanished, and became simply rainbows once again.

    Mark stared at the light for a while, watching it undulate and flicker outward, like continuous, silent lightning flashing outward and then receding, and then flickering right back into position. Which was surprising. Was it¡­ moving around that fast? No, certainly not. At these distances of hundreds of kilometers, or however far they were from the Crossing, if columns of light, tens of kilometers wide, were moving that fast they had to be moving hundreds of kilometers per hour. Which was possible¡­ but the scale of it all felt impossible. No. What Mark was seeing was a trick of the light; his own perceptions twisted upon the ribbons of Endless Daihoon, where kaiju were the norm...

    Oh.

    Yeah.

    There were lots of kaiju around here, weren¡¯t there?

    They came through the Crossing all the time.

    That thought is what caused Mark to break from staring at the Crossing, to come back to himself, to sense his surroundings. People stood to his sides, watching the sky, almost reverent. Others stood away, smirking and talking to each other about how they remembered their first times.

    Sally was talking to some guy with brown skin and a bald head who looked too perfect. Really quite oddly handsome. Was he wearing makeup? Maybe. Eliot was still staring at the Crossing, taking it all in. Overhead, on the deck above, and down below in the bridge, Mark felt people as they focused on the Crossing, and then gradually pull back, like they had been mesmerized just a little.

    Maybe they had been.

    Sally noticed that Mark was back with them and she smiled to see it, saying, ¡°It¡¯s magnificent, yeah.¡±

    Mark smiled a little bit, stepping away from the view. ¡°It¡¯s not a mental effect, is it?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. It¡¯s a soul and astral body effect,¡± said the man standing with Sally. He nodded a little, saying, ¡°Noel Oliphant. I believe there are a half a dozen people who wish to talk to you, but I was the one who managed to invite you first. Hello, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Hello, Noel.¡± Mark glanced around and noticed people looking his way, some of them seeming to judge others also looking his way. They were jockeying for position. Mark fully turned to Noel. ¡°A pleasure to meet you. I understand that the heroes of the settlement are coming after me? Or is it just Kardi and Tartu?¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°What? They¡¯re¡­ coming after you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I just saw them in the hallway¡ª¡± Mark paused. He looked to Noel, saying, ¡°They thought the Program had only sent a bot, and not a real person. But surely they asked about a real person?¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Suddenly, a lot of things about that previous interaction weirded Mark out.

    Tartu would have known that Noel was on board, right? Since his father is a big shot? Tartu would have told Kardi, yeah? But then again, why was Tartu back there? And not up here? Mark glanced around, looking for the older man with white and blue hair, like Tartu; Tartu¡¯s father, the Grand Mage Solari. And yeah, right over there was Grand Mage Solari.

    So why did Kardi say something like ¡®They only sent a bot! Can you believe it?¡¯?

    ¡­ Maybe Noel was hiding, though, and Tartu didn¡¯t know about him either?

    Mark asked Noel the only thing that made sense, ¡°Are you hiding?¡±

    Noel winced. ¡°I¡¯m an open secret. I was told not to interact with any heroes directly, and to not encourage any of the usual things I encourage. But some people are above the law of the land, and some people are trying to score big points against dragonkind by taking you down. It¡¯s a whole thing that we¡¯re not really sure how to handle.¡± He got a slightly devious expression, as he added, ¡°But I¡¯m not hiding from Spherix or Luckygun, so, I think what happened there is that they lied to you, yes. It¡¯s a little bit of intrigue that will end up somewhere, but I know not where!¡± He added, ¡°Luckygun seems to have lucked into meeting Tartu and becoming teammates. She has a powerful Luck going for her. You know that, though. But I have a question. A big question! Does Luckygun hate you, Mark?¡±

    Mark had a weird moment.

    Sally¡¯s eyebrows went up. She asked, ¡°Hate? Mark? The fuck?¡±

    Mark admitted, ¡°I thought it was quite the opposite, actually.¡±

    Noel¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Ohh! Spicy~ Well Tartu certainly hates you. It sounds like a good dynamic to exploit for the cameras, but hopefully I can turn it into a simple rivalry instead of outright hate. Are you thinking about a look for yourself? How about the nature of your rivalry with Tartu? I heard you might be doing some sort of domineering thing. It would play well with audiences if you do something like that, since the brother of a dragon should be an equal to a dragon, though no one is expecting that of you right now. Tartu is¡ª¡±

    The guy was talking fast, and for good reason.

    Aurora and the woman in the soft yellow dress were walking their way.

    Noel stopped speaking well before both of them got here.

    And then Aurora was standing just a meter away, smiling a little, her hair lensing rainbows in the light of the Crossing. She said, ¡°I thought I asked for no Program-related activities for at least a month, Noel.¡±

    Mark got the impression she had ¡®asked¡¯ for a lot more than a pause. The woman in the yellow dress looked at Mark with interest, but Mark didn¡¯t know her, and she didn¡¯t say anything. Aurora didn¡¯t make introductions, either, which meant that whatever was happening between Aurora and Noel was a Big Deal that pushed down all other normal interactions.

    ¡°Just making plans for the future, General Valen,¡± Noel said, smiling professionally. ¡°And Mark sought me out himself.¡±

    Aurora looked to Mark. ¡°Did you, now?¡±

    Mark got to the heart of the matter, saying, ¡°Well¡­ Since we¡¯re here. I haven¡¯t heard from Addavein at all, and I am worried that something will happen in that direction. I figured the Hero Program would know more¡­ If he¡¯s awake yet? Etcetera. That sort of thing.¡±

    Their little group of people turned tense, and so did the people listening in.

    Mark decided to back off of that Big Topic though. They could pick it up later, if they wanted. Mark continued, ¡°But then I heard Tartu Solari and a Slayer I know, Kardi, made a group and they¡¯re gunning for me¡­¡± He looked to Noel, asking, ¡°To try and bet for all my adamantium, or something like that?¡±

    Aurora was quietly furious and the woman in yellow was curious.

    Noel defended himself with a strong voice, saying, ¡°I told them multiple times that such things are not allowed yet, and that the Program is on hold until at least a month passes at the settlement.¡± And then he told Mark, ¡°However, if you agree to it, and the match is sanctioned, then it could happen. You obviously don¡¯t have to actually give your adamantium to them in a win. You are a villain, after all. It is a privilege to challenge you. We¡¯re planning on every prospective hero in the settlement needing to get enough points to even challenge you, or something like that.¡± He looked to Aurora, saying, ¡°The exact nature of the system has yet to be delineated.¡±

    Aurora said to Mark, ¡°If you hear from Addavein, please inform anyone in the chain of command, as soon as possible. You have my phone number in the email I sent you. Have Quark inform me directly, and fast. Thank you. I would prefer it if you could just set up an automatic email from Quark, in case you can¡¯t send the message yourself for whatever reason.¡± She said to Noel, ¡°Same goes for you.¡±

    Noel said, ¡°Yes, General Valen.¡±

    Aurora asked Mark, ¡°Have you decided on your villain persona yet, Mark?¡±

    Mark had not, but he made a decision at that moment, saying, ¡°Tyrant king.¡±

    Aurora, Noel, and the woman in yellow, and a few other people nearby and listening in, all had a moment.

    And then Aurora chuckled once, the woman in yellow smiled wide and laughed¡ª

    Noel was focused. ¡°I love it. Do you have a look, yet?¡±

    ¡°I have some ideas for a look, yes. But uh, nothing solid?¡±

    Making it up as he went, Mark took out some adamantium and made himself a crescent-shaped crown between his cupped hands, and then he twisted up five spires of metal on the front, making the whole look like sharpened obsidian glass. It was only maybe 80% of his adamantium. Quark still had his cover. Mark put his crown over his own head and felt absolutely ridiculous, especially when people looked at him¡­ They were looking at him quite oddly, actually.

    Sally was smiling wide, to the side, looking like she was watching a train wreck. She was fully enjoying every moment of Mark¡¯s embarrassment, and Mark was absolutely sure his embarrassment was showing on his face.

    His face felt hot.

 134

    Aurora was carefully neutral, her vector pointed in several other directions as she looked up, at Mark¡¯s crown.

    Noel seemed to have stars in his eyes, while the woman in yellow seemed¡­ unreadable. Carefully unreadable. Maybe a bit¡­ surprised? Surprised at herself, too. Mark wasn¡¯t sure about all of that.

    With his crown floating a few inches off of his absolute black hair, Mark broke the silence, ¡°How does it look?¡±

    Noel rapidly asked, ¡°Can you make it fully symmetrical and spinning a little?¡±

    The woman in yellow spoke up, ¡°Ten points off of a simple band of black.¡±

    Aurora glanced at her companion, but the woman only had eyes for Mark. She was locked in, for some reasons that Mark couldn¡¯t tell.

    ¡­ Mark flexed his crown and transformed the crescent shape into a ring with ten points rising from the ring, like talons, because that felt right.

    The woman in yellow breathed deep, her heart beating hard.

    Aurora was still carefully neutral.

    Noel smirked, fully realizing that something was happening with Aurora and the woman in yellow, but pretending like he saw nothing, as he said, ¡°That¡¯s perfect! So you¡¯re really leaning into the whole ¡®dragon¡¯s brother¡¯ thing, then? The talons look like¡­ Well. You know.¡±

    ¡°Dragonclaws,¡± the woman in yellow said, almost a whisper.

    Aurora told Mark, ¡°You should do the other crown.¡±

    Mark flicked the adamantium over his head into the other crown, the crescent-shaped crown with the five points, knowing that whatever he had done with the 10-pointer had some sort of significance that he had not intended at all. Mark went, ¡°Uh, sure. What was it about the 10-pointer¡­ Ah.¡± Aurora shook her head a little, ending that inquiry. Mark said, ¡°Never mind.¡±

    Aurora told Noel, ¡°We¡¯ll talk later. You can go now.¡± As Noel bowed rapidly and walked away, Aurora gestured to the woman in yellow, as she looked to Mark, saying, ¡°Apologies. This is Countess Marigold Metallic. I understand that you tried to get an appointment. She has been quite the busy one!¡±

    Aurora was polite and with some small smiles, and Marigold was similarly joyful, but there was a sudden, deep tension between the two women that Mark felt, more than saw. That tension hadn¡¯t been there to begin with, or maybe it had been there and Mark simply didn¡¯t notice it, but that tension was on display to anyone with a Unionsense, or possibly a telepathic sense, like Aurora. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what sort of senses a telepath got¡­ But as soon as he had that thought, Aurora¡¯s tension with Marigold vanished.

    Which let Mark know a few things¡­

    And then Aurora seemed embarrassed inwardly, and Mark set aside whatever had just happened, because people were talking.

    Marigold put a palm to her own chest in greeting, saying, ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Mark. I should repeat what my employee said, for the sake of it being said, but we won¡¯t move Addavein¡¯s product for him. Or for you.¡±

    Mark had a plan for this situation that did not involve revealing his adamantium blood.

    Mark said, ¡°Adamantiumkinetics can detect adamantium at great distances, and that is my plan; hunting the wilds for big bounty.¡±

    Shapers could naturally detect their elements if they were close enough, but Mark had never really done that, because¡­ well. Adamantium was freaking rare and the only bits of adamantium around Mark were his own. So Mark going out into the wilds to search for adamantium ¡ªor rather, adamantium beasts¡ª was a rather normal sort of thing for someone in his situation. Of course, Mark would be making adamantium himself, and Marigold would learn of that later, but for now, the lie would serve.

    Mark absolutely wanted to go into the wilds and find adamantium himself, though. Would he find adamantiumkinetic monsters? If he did, then he would get some good training in fighting Addavein¡­ Theoretically¡­ But anyway!

    Mark added, ¡°I don¡¯t want to sell Addavein¡¯s adamantium, either.¡±

    Marigold looked skeptical. She almost said something¡ª

    But Aurora spoke, ¡°And I believe him.¡± Aurora told Mark, ¡°Making money in the settlement will be a hard affair, but through House Metallic you should be able to sell whatever adamantium monsters you come across. That¡¯s how Addashield made his initial fortune, and further fortunes beyond that. Most of our futures will be made in monster hunting, to start. We¡¯ll be shipping those hunted fortunes back to Crytalis for goods and services in return.¡± Aurora added, ¡°But we ask that you allow the settlement to buy some non-Addavein adamantium at a competitive rate, Mark.¡±

    There was a lot of politicking happening in those small statements.

    Mark easily said, ¡°I¡¯d be happy to agree to that, Aurora.¡±

    Marigold understood that something had happened, but she wasn¡¯t quite sure what. She was still a businesswoman, though. With a slight bit of mirth in her voice that was only half-true, Marigold told Aurora, ¡°I won¡¯t let my client be swindled, General Valen.¡±

    Aurora said, ¡°Of course not! ¡®Competitive¡¯ does not mean for free. But I would hope to be able to pay in some ways outside of goldleaf.¡±

    Marigold smiled politely, then looked to Mark, saying, ¡°I must have a real meeting with you soon. Perhaps in the journey to the settlement? After the crossing?¡±

    ¡°I look forward to it, Countess Metallic.¡±

    ¡°Please, call me Marigold, Mark. I¡¯m on a first name basis with all of my clients.¡±

    Mark was already doing that in his head, but it was easy enough to do that for real, as he said, ¡°Marigold, then. A pleasure to meet you.¡±

    Marigold looked to Eliot, who was still enthralled by the Southern Crossing. She decided to not interrupt his moment. She smiled a bit, though, and then told Mark, ¡°I remember my first time seeing the Crossing, too. It¡¯s still rather magical.¡±

    ¡°It truly is magical,¡± Mark said, glancing at the rainbow sky.

    Marigold nodded, and then stepped backward, out of the conversation, and right into another conversation with an older woman and younger man who were waiting to speak with her. People moved around the party, and conversations continued.

    And then Eliot blinked, and turned. With focusing eyes, he asked, ¡°Was someone talking about me?¡±

    ¡°Banking business,¡± Aurora said, and then she glanced backward. She spotted someone who wanted to speak to Eliot, based on the man¡¯s vector. The man was big and strong-looking, under his well-worn suit. With his bright red hair and bushy beard he looked positively rugged. Aurora looked to Eliot. ¡°Would you like to meet Baron Rylan Drakemore? He finally came out of hiding for some unknown reason, and it seems that reason might be you. He¡¯s the Builder Guildleader.¡±

    Eliot was all smiles as he said, ¡°Of course I would like to meet¡­¡± He looked up at Mark, and then up a bit further. ¡°Uh. Nice hat, dude?¡±

    Mark joked, ¡°I¡¯m thinking I¡¯ll be ¡®King Blackvein¡¯ to my enemies, and ¡®Mark¡¯ to friends.¡±

    Eliot snorted, and Sally did too.

    Aurora suggested, ¡°Perhaps a lesser title to start with. Perhaps ¡®knight¡¯. You want to leave yourself some room to ascend, after all.¡±

    Mark instantly felt embarrassed again. He took his crown down and wrapped the metal around his ankles and wrists, saying, ¡°A fine suggestion. Thank you for it.¡±

    Aurora smirked, and then she took Eliot along to see Baron Rylan Drakemore.

    And then Mark was with Sally again, sipping champagne as they stood by the railing, under the sight of the Crossing ahead. It was a beautiful sight¡ª

    ¡°Oh!¡± Mark exclaimed, as he took out Quark. ¡°You know those skywhales we never got to see last year, after we took the False Tutorial?¡± Quark took the initiative and started playing the video, and Mark smiled as he showed Sally. ¡°Look! They were¡­ Huh.¡±

    Sally had smirked and taken out her own phone, and she was showing him her own video she had taken of the skywhales, saying, ¡°I had almost forgotten about it, too.¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°Where did you take this from?¡± he asked, as he watched the video.

    ¡°Eliot unfolded a wall for a viewing party¡ª Ah, there he is.¡± The recording turned, and there was Eliot standing with Isoko, while Sally held her camera in her hands. She said, ¡°We got to see them in comfort while you were stuck out on the roof.¡±

    Mark grinned as he watched the skywhales from a slightly different angle.

    They put the cameras away soon enough to just watch the Crossing, instead, as they talked about hunting monsters on Daihoon, and making money off of monster parts.

    Sally said, ¡°That¡¯s hard work. We weren¡¯t able to do that at all. We could only hunt for mana crystals and deposits, and we weren¡¯t able to find much even on successful hunts. I assume that Eliot or¡ª Or not Eliot, actually. Man-made Manipulation can¡¯t differentiate monsters at all. I¡¯m sure someone can make some better scanners? Someone on the ship, surely? Wealth scanners, yeah?¡± She glanced behind them. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard anyone talk about how the settlement is actually going to, you know¡­ exist.¡±

    Mark shrugged. ¡°Colonizing economics.¡±

    ¡°But what does that mean.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure how it¡¯s going to play out, but I do know that all monsters on Earth are pretty useless. The astral body decays the instant of death, and so does all the magical properties of the monsters. You have to do some pretty extensive treatments to monsters to make them harvestable, and those treatments have to be done before death¡­ And all of that is kinda impossible on Earth. I think it¡¯s easier on Daihoon. I think part of the army consists of monster body preppers, or harvesters. I think the actual Skill is called Harvest, too¡ª Oh! Maybe some of the Farmers of Verdago?¡±

    Sally looked like she realized something. ¡°Maybe more like the Paladins of Pluta, actually. They got some sort of wealth detection magic going on¡­ Though I suppose the Farmers of Verdago could breed monsters to have viable parts? I¡¯m not sure. Harbordock didn¡¯t have much of a paladin presence when I was there. A lot of places on Daihoon are like that. This new settlement is going to be an outlier simply because we have, like, 5% paladins by volume?¡±

    Mark nodded. The numbers were somewhere around there. He said, ¡°Isoko is at the paladin party. Want to go?¡±

    ¡°Not yet.¡± Sally gazed out at the rainbow rise of the Crossing, her drink in her hands. ¡°Later, though. Definitely later.¡±

    Mark and Sally ended up spending the next hour sitting and watching the Crossing draw closer and closer as the ship continued on toward Antarctica. Soon, that pointy bit of Antarctica was down below, and Mark did not know the name of that peninsula, or the names of the cities down there, among the green.

    There were some big cities down there, too, because, ironically enough, being this close to the Crossing was actually rather safe for those places down there. Kaiju spilled out of the Crossing all the time, and Mark was pretty sure he saw movement in the ribbons of light, like arms and maws and tails all the sizes of buildings, showing kaiju that were close to emerging, but when kaiju came out of the Crossing, they did not come right out onto green Antarctica.

    Mark pulled up his phone and asked Quark, ¡°Can we get a kaiju watch?¡±

    Quark flickered as he connected to the systems of the ship, which were themselves connected to the cities down below. He spoke, ¡°Please point the camera toward the Crossing.¡±

    Mark did so, holding Quark up for himself and Sally.

    An augmented readout populated on the screen, numbers folding in with the rainbow light, sensing stuff that was far beyond normal mortal analysis¡ª

    The readout stabilized on a big ribbon of rainbows that was barely visible outside of the augmented reality view of the camera. That ribbon jutted into the ocean to the right, like a figment of a rainbow made real. Where it touched the ocean, that part was much more visible. The ocean churned into froth. Mark hadn¡¯t even noticed the ocean was churning until he followed the trail of Quark¡¯s analysis. He pointed the camera toward the ocean, toward the end of the rainbow, the whole thing reminding Mark of a downed power line touching a puddle of water, sparking.

    Sally watched Quark. ¡°It takes a while, huh?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m not even sure what is happening right now. I think he¡¯s interfacing with stuff and getting permissions and downloading programs and junk.¡±

    ¡°Do you need a better phone?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking of getting a housing. Do you know what those are?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, you mentioned that. ¡®Livium core¡¯, right?¡±

    Mark nodded¡ª

    Quark spat out an estimation.

    ¡°25% chance of arrival in 10 days. 75% chance nothing happens at all, and the pathway resumes moving along,¡± Quark said.

    Sally nodded, as though she had expected that. She said, ¡°The Crossing always dumps kaiju far beyond the central space, and that one is pretty close to land, so I doubt whatever comes out of that will be a problem. Probably a very small kaiju, if at all.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I talked to a sailor last time I crossed, about a spot just like that one. They weren¡¯t worried about an emergent kaiju, and they don¡¯t get worried when the ribbons are that close to land. The ribbons that actually spit out kaiju are all far away, the Crossing flickering hard and fast¡­ like a moving kaiju, I guess. You¡¯ll have an hour warning on those flickers. It¡¯s like the sky flashes outward and touches down far, far out of view. Mostly, the kaiju keep swimming or flying northward. They don¡¯t really turn back at all.¡±

    ¡°Because then they¡¯d get sucked back up into the Crossing, yeah?¡± Mark asked, putting Quark away.

    ¡°Yup! The kaiju that turn around aren¡¯t a problem at all. The bigger the monster the further out they¡¯re dumped and noticed by the Crossing; the further they¡¯re spat out or sucked up. Little things aren¡¯t really noticed by the Crossing until we get truly close,¡± Sally said. ¡°We¡¯re just a bunch of people, so we gotta get a lot closer before we¡¯re noticed and sucked up into the light.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Mark nodded. He had heard most of that before, but actually watching the Crossing, actually seeing it up close, and seeing cities on the green land below, made everything seem more real than reading about it on the internet. Mark looked down and focused on the cities.

    Those cities down below were ¡®safe¡¯ from kaiju. Kaiju could sometimes resist the Crossing if they wanted, but there were certain distances and sizes that had cause-and-effect reactions that the kaiju could not resist. They got sucked up and away when they got close. Down there on Antarctica, people only had to deal with people-sized monsters. There were still lots of super-dangerous human-sized monsters, of course. But these places were pretty much immune to the threat of kaiju.

    There was a line of red on the continent below; a painted line, created by people splashing paint, or ink or whatever, over a vast, vast stretch of land, between the cities and the green of the center continent. That red zone denoted the point where people would start to get sucked up into the Crossing, too. The cities below were about ten kilometers from that red zone.

    The air was warm, the sky was full of rainbows, and Mark imagined what it would have been like to grow up here. No monsters. Or at least none that were larger than human-sized. No Curtain Protocol, either. The sun was gone half of the year, and the other half of the year was full sun, like it was right now, but the Crossing was always bright. Plants and people flourished like few other places on Earth.

    But past that red zone down there, only mouse-sized monsters remained. Everything else eventually got sucked into a ribbon, and then onto Endless Daihoon. The mice also got sucked up when they went too far in.

    If there was something at the center of Antarctica, and up at the North Pole, too, then Mark couldn¡¯t tell. All he could see was rainbow light, ever shifting, like the skies of Daihoon brought down to Earth, which is pretty much exactly what he was looking at.

    Scientists, mages, and even archmages, weren¡¯t sure what existed at the center of the light, or if anything existed at all. This was where land, mana, and reality twisted together. ¡®What lay at the center of the Crossings¡¯ was a trope in a lot of fiction, but if anything existed in there, then no one really knew. Maybe the demons did, but who would ever believe what they said? The gods certainly never spoke on the subject, either.

    It was one of many mysteries of the Two Worlds.

    Mark looked up at the ribbonwall, which was now the entire stretch of sky from left to right, and even behind them a little bit, and imagined just¡­ going in, and then going further and further and further. On to Endless Daihoon directly. To find the elves. To find resurrection magics. To explore where few had ever explored, because everyone died to the great beasts that lived out there; the super-kaiju¡­ if such things actually existed.

    ¡°You ever think about super-kaiju?¡± Mark asked.

    Sally went still, and then shuddered. ¡°No.¡±

    Mark smirked at that obvious lie. ¡°We¡¯ve never seen one on Earth or Daihoon, as far as I know.¡±

    ¡°And thank the gods for that!¡±

    ¡°Maybe they can¡¯t come to the Two Worlds because, like¡­ Earth and Daihoon have maximum distances from the Crossings, right? That distance is the equator. Maybe, if something is too big, then they just skip over all of the Two Worlds and they never appear here at all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a little comforting,¡± Sally said, not comforted at all.

    Mark chuckled, and then he asked, ¡°How does the navigator know how to go to Daihoon, instead of to Earth? Like¡­ We go in. I get that. And then we turn right back around, but we don¡¯t end up on Earth?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t read all about it?¡± Sally asked, sarcasm heavy.

    ¡°I did, but it didn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make much sense when we¡¯re in there, either¡­¡± Sally hummed in thought, then said, ¡°There¡¯s like¡­ The world¡­ Reality splits. It¡¯s really noticeable.¡± Sally paused. She shrugged. ¡°It makes sense when you¡¯re in there. Of course most people are just freaked out of their minds so they can¡¯t really tell what is happening. But you can acclimate. And eventually, if you go away from the Endless Sky, if you go toward the side with a blue sky then you go to Earth. If you go to the side with a rainbow sky then you go to Daihoon. There¡¯s also, like¡­ a feeling? You can tell which way is toward Earth or Daihoon. It¡¯s super easy. Some people can navigate Endless Daihoon really well. Most people freak the fuck out and stay in their rooms for days, barely eating.¡±

    Mark nodded. He asked, ¡°Were you stuck in your room?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I managed to get out of my room the second time.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re not scared to go back in?¡±

    Sally hummed, then said, ¡°Some women have told me it¡¯s like childbirth. Yes, there is pain, and when you¡¯re in it you never want to do it ever again, but then you get out of it and you forget the pain, so you end up pregnant again.¡±

    Mark thought about that.

    And the ship sailed on, into the light.

    Not too long later, some army guy came into the room and called attention to himself.

    ¡°Attention! Attention! We¡¯re closing up the viewing area! You can stay, but the view is going away. Please vacate over to this line on the ground over here¡­ yes, please. This way. This way! Please!¡±

    The guy stood at a yellow and black warning line on the ground that arced across the viewing space.

    Mark and Sally moved to stand behind the line and they both watched the Crossing a little bit more as the walls started to roll up, closing off the viewing platform. A second set of walls rose from the black and yellow warning line, like a double set of doors closing over, and soon the viewing platform was closed. The actual room was still there, of course, minus several meters of standing space. Some people moved on because the sight of the Crossing was gone, and the room was kinda crowded now, but some people remained to finish off their conversations or get into the thick of it, now that most people were walking away.

    Mark and Sally walked down to the paladin party, on one of the lower levels.

    Eliot was already there at the paladin party, standing with Isoko and a bunch of paladins, most of them in chainmail but a few wore breastplates.

    They cheered as Mark and Sally showed up, all of them raising glasses and calling out, ¡°Team Villainy!¡±

    Mark had absolutely no idea what Eliot had been telling them, or why Isoko started laughing uproariously, or why people started cheering ¡®Death to all monsters!¡¯ next, and loudly, but Mark was here for it, and the paladin party was a whole lot more partying than it was politicking, and that seemed great. Mark got to drinking with new friends, and meeting new people he had already ¡®met¡¯ once before when he Union¡¯d with them all during the skysnake attack, but now he could put names to feelings. There was Alice, John, Larado, Juliet, Minecent¡­ and Mark kinda lost track after that¡ª

    The intercom flickered on, and Aurora¡¯s voice interrupted the party, ¡°Attention all! We will be entering the Southern Crossing in 1 minute. Expectations are high for a nothing-salad of a trip. Make sure you have a bucket on hand if you do attempt to look out any camera feeds. Please do not disturb those who choose to remain in their rooms. The paladins and the priests aboard will make sure no one is too scared. Thank you! After four minutes of transit we will be in Endless Daihoon proper, and then it will be safer to look out of the camera feeds. Expect it to take us two days to make it through the Crossing, and on to Daihoon again. Happy Crossing!¡±

    The paladin party erupted in cheers and someone asked Eliot to ¡®whip them up a big camera to view the show!¡¯

    They were going to be fearless through audacity, it seemed.

    Eliot obliged with the big screen and soon, the rainbow took them.

    It was twisted. It was brilliant. The world flexed, the world settled.

    And then some people started puking and Mark felt a vector pressing down on them, as though the entire universe was looking at them. He broke out in a cold sweat.

    And then the vector lessened, passing them by, moving on.

    Mark started breathing again, and he wasn¡¯t sure when he had stopped.

    And then came rote reality, and cleaning up messes.

    Mark managed to hold it in, though!

    Sally groaned as she looked up at Mark. She scowled as she wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand, saying, ¡°Yeah yeah, laugh it up.¡±

    Mark chuckled as he pulsed with purity/impurity, washing away Sally¡¯s mess, saying, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t puke already. You never liked going on Dad¡¯s boat.¡±

    ¡°Hover vehicles are better than boats! Fuck boats!¡± Sally said, defending herself. ¡°Just¡­ just shut up about it.¡±

    Mark smiled and he didn¡¯t say another word.

    Instead, he looked at the screens on the walls that showed Endless Daihoon, all around. He was not the only one staring at the world beyond.

    It was beautiful.

    The ship itself was in the sky, far, far above a world of blue, far, far below. Mountains rose to the sides, seeming to be as far away as the Moon and about just as detailed, though Mark knew that assessment had to be untrue. The mountains were just hundreds of kilometers away. The land below was about that far, too. The thickness of the atmosphere, due to pure distance, gave everything a slightly white hue. Some of that whiteness was clouds, like rivers flowing in the sky. Blue, brown, green, white. It was more color than reality. The sky above was layers upon layers of more lands, as though Mark was standing at the peak of a mountain and looking out across an ocean of clouds, to see the peaks of other mountains out there, like shark fins rising above the white.

    The perspective of it all was kinda fucked up.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking at, exactly, but it gave him a little bit of a knot in his stomach to look at it all, to see all of that distance, that size, and know that he was as small as a person. The viewing vector that had consumed all of Mark¡¯s thoughts was still out there, but it wasn¡¯t looking at them right now.

    Still kinda pissingly terrifying, though.

    No wonder some people stayed in their cabins the whole trip.

    Mark muttered to Eliot, ¡°It¡¯s a bit exhilarating, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Eliot shuddered next to him, staring at the sky on the screen, saying, ¡°The number one killer of superheroes is eventually fear. The fear of the size of it all. Megalophobia, for generalized anxiety of big things. Thalassophobia for fear of stuff hiding under water. Some people have kaijuphobia¡­¡± He shuddered again, his words lost to an unsaid emotion.

    Mark was suddenly struck by the fact that he felt absolutely none of that fear.

    Oh sure, being here, looking at the world beyond and imagining the monsters therein? That was scary. But not in an ¡®I don¡¯t want to be here¡¯ sort of way. More like an ¡®I want to be here and kill it¡¯, sort of way.

    Mark was pretty sure he was abnormal.

    He looked around. He felt as much as saw when people turned away from the screens, unable to watch the vastness anymore. But some focused so intently on those screens that Mark felt those people would jump at the chance to get onto the roof of Grey Whale, to see it all without screens between them, muddying the experience.

    And then there were the people who were watching the people, gauging them, judging them. There was High Paladin Azocar Sanchez, looking stoic in his armor. Mark had met Azocar once, and then never again, but Eliot worked alongside Azocar all the time, as Azocar was of Hearthswell and Eliot was still learning Castellan. From what Mark was sensing, Azocar was heavily judging people, to see if they were suitable for facing kaiju, and other big problems. Or at least that was the impression Mark was getting.

    High Priest Galen Greene-Shield stood beside Azocar, similarly judging people. Mark hadn¡¯t met the man before, but he had seen the guy¡¯s picture in the information packets about the settlement program. He was the head of the chapter of the Collective that would be moving into the settlement. He was a Priest of Verdago, the God of Farming, and had taken Verdago¡¯s human last name as his own, but he had hyphenated it with his original last name of ¡®Shield¡¯. Mark imagined there was a story there, especially since Galen was obviously Daihoonian, with bright green hair, and Verdago ¡ªaka: Daniel Greene¡ª was originally a human of Earth.

    Mark asked Eliot, ¡°You okay, man?¡±

    Eliot smiled a little, straining, lying, ¡°I¡¯m doing great!¡±

    Mark looked toward Isoko and Sally, and both of them just shook their heads in their own ways. They weren¡¯t doing that great, either. A lot of people were doing poorly, actually. Mark told his friends, ¡°I don¡¯t see any monsters out there, and whatever is looking at us is not looking directly at us. We¡¯re fine.¡±

    Eliot squeaked, ¡°<sup>Something is looking at us</sup>?¡±

    Isoko¡¯s voice choked in her throat. She coughed.

    ¡°¡­ Sorry, my mistake¡± Mark lied, ¡°There is nothing out there.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Okay.¡±

    Sally got all falsely enthusiastic as she said, ¡°Yup! We¡¯re fine!¡±

    Eliot was pale, now.

    Mark looked at Eliot. ¡°¡­ Eliot?¡±

    Eliot forced a grin and said, ¡°We¡¯re fine! I¡¯m fine!¡±

    Mark opened his mouth to try and comfort Eliot in whatever way he could, but Eliot shook his head.

    Mark just nodded. ¡°How about we get you to the room and I can sit with you.¡±

    Eliot glanced at the screens again, looking absolutely terrified of the empty views of water, mountain, and sky¡­ And Mark realized something was happening that he didn¡¯t understand¡ª

    Oh.

    The camera views were fake.

    ¡­ Well, Mark supposed that they probably had a good reason for faking the views.

    Soon, when Mark, Isoko, Sally, and Eliot were all in their room, and the doors were shut¡ª

    Eliot blurted, ¡°The screens are fake! There are so many kaiju out there¡­ out there¡­¡± His voice trailed away.

    ¡°I know,¡± Mark said.

    Isoko shuddered. She knew already. Sally surely knew, based on the paleness of her face.

    Mark asked, ¡°I¡¯d like to know why they show fake videos, though.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll show the real ones gradually,¡± Sally said.

    Eliot nodded. ¡°They have AI scrubbers removing the kaiju for now, but they¡¯ll begin to drop and show the real extent of the problem eventually. The screens are showing nothing, but there are hundreds out there.¡±

    ¡°Thousands,¡± Sally whispered.

    ¡°Well none of them are looking this way, overmuch,¡± Mark said¡­

    Which caused Eliot to pale.

    Isoko was stoic and solid, her skin a little grey, edging toward platinum.

    There was no more talk of kaiju.

 135

    On the bridge, Aurora stood beside the captain¡¯s chair, her eyes scanning the screens ahead, both the real ones, and the fake ones.

    Captain Gearhead was in his chair, and the navigators were in their seats, hands on the controls and eyes to the readouts. They were all frantically working, their words flowing over Aurora like summer wind, while she had one hand gripped on a railing. The railing would survive Aurora¡¯s grip, but it already had her fingerprints indented in the metal.

    Gearhead could fix it later, Aurora supposed.

    ¡°Hull integrity 95%.¡±

    ¡°Invisibility envelope functioning properly.¡±

    ¡°Redirection screens working at full power.¡±

    ¡°Engine drain at 25%, and holding steady. 50 days of flight time remaining at the current rate. Lots of time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m showing someone trying to redirect the screens to show the true images of the exterior in their private rooms, as expected. The Redirection AI isn¡¯t having it.¡±

    Aurora softly told Gearhead, ¡°Fatewatch.¡±

    Gearhead called out, ¡°Fatewatch!¡±

    Someone who was watching a very important dial at the bottom of a covered viewing screen, spoke up, ¡°Overall fate-prognostication of the journey remains holding at 95% safe. No kaiju attack. No riots on board. People will stay in their rooms, mostly. Redirection AI will fail in an hour, leading to panic on decks 3 and 5. How do you want to handle that, sir?¡±

    Gearhead looked to Aurora. ¡°Normally I let them fuck around and find out. They almost always go into their rooms and huddle under the blankets for the journey.¡±

    Aurora softly said, ¡°I trust you do know what you¡¯re doing, Captain, so we will follow your lead.¡±

    Gearhead nodded, seeming happier after being informed he would not be overruled in his domain. He told the Fatewatch person, ¡°Leave it be.¡± And then he looked out at the screens; the real ones being shown here, in the bridge, and the fake ones being shown all across the ship. With the voice of an old sailor, who had done this a million times already, he said, ¡°We¡¯re too small to be noticed, even if it doesn¡¯t seem like it. We¡¯re gonna be fine.¡±

    The fake screens showed continent-sized mountains and ocean-sized rivers, and the real screens showed that, too, but the real screens also showed kaiju. Elemental kaiju, mostly, but even the living kaiju looked elemental, with craggy skin like the mountains they walked upon, or flowing white feathers, like the clouds they lived within, or foaming waters, like the oceans they swam.

    There were too many of them, in Aurora¡¯s opinion.

    At least Big Blue wasn¡¯t out there right now.

    Big Silver was out there, though, beyond that ridge of mountains, its eyes looking over the edge like two small moons with pupils staring this way, but it wasn¡¯t moving. It never moved, much. Not when you were looking. When you weren¡¯t looking it moved too fast to see¡­

    Which freaked Aurora out.

    She tried not to let it show.

    Aurora asked, ¡°How far are we inside Endless Daihoon?¡±

    ¡°About 3 days from the exit; 4 if we go slow,¡± Gearhead said, looking at the landscape and making judgments based on experience. ¡°So further than normal, but we¡¯ve got a lot of High Skills on board, so that¡¯s to be expected.¡±

    There was no real map of Endless Daihoon, since reality here was based on perception just as much as it was based on reality. But Aurora, who had only been through the Crossing tens of times, could tell they were further in than they should be. She guessed that Gearhead¡¯s estimate was a bit off, but, it could also be exactly right.

    Aurora said, ¡°Sail on then, captain.¡±

    Gearhead bowed in his seat.

    Aurora left the bridge and found Yoro standing there in the hallway, waiting for her. Yoro had already completed his run around the whole ship, then? It was to be expected, Aurora supposed. Yoro was highly competent, but Yoro was still just an assigned member of the project, like most people assigned by Aluatha, so Aurora had yet to really get to know many of them.

    Aurora was a competent militarist, though. Even if this was her first time working with some of these people, she knew enough to trust in the assignments given to her by the Aluatha Empire.

    So Aurora simply said, ¡°Report.¡±

    Yoro paused a little, looking miffed, as he said, ¡°You really don¡¯t use your Telepathy, do you?¡±

    Aurora didn¡¯t scowl, but it was a close thing. ¡°We have had this discussion before. Of course I don¡¯t pry into the minds of my subordinates. Enemies are fair game, but subordinates are precious.¡±

    At least that¡¯s how she tried to act. Sometimes thoughts simply slipped toward her, though.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s inefficient, and you¡¯re making this harder than it had to be.¡±

    ¡°Get on with it, Yoro,¡± Aurora said, as she started walking.

    The doors to the bridge were soon far behind them.

    Yoro walked with Aurora, saying, ¡°And there¡¯s the matter of security. You could look at my surface thoughts instead of me airing my concerns in the open.¡±

    Aurora frowned at the man who had never really worked under her before today, and then she Opened her mind and Looked into his mind. As her walls fell away, she saw thoughts in the air, and in the depths of the well that was Yoro¡¯s existence, like ten thousand spots of light, of memories, stitched together to make a person. Aurora glanced at the foremost thoughts, pulling out before she Looked too deep, though from what she was seeing, Yoro wouldn¡¯t mind being an open story for her, or any other telepath.

    ¡­ Which was a bit weird, but not the weirdest thing that Aurora had ever seen. Not by far. And not even that bad, really.

    She said, ¡°What you really want is for less work, which you think will happen because I can read minds. You hate giving reports. You¡¯re ready to retire even though you¡¯re only 35, and you took this job because you want an easier life. You want to read books all day, which is fine. I think all of that will happen, Yoro. I truly do. But I don¡¯t go reading minds just because I can. It¡¯s rude, and most people turn insular and hateful if they believe they are open stories to me. You are odd in how you react to me being able to read you.¡± Almost offhandedly, she added, ¡°I¡¯m not worried about any of the things you saw, but keep an eye on Cargo 4.¡±

    Yoro smiled, almost wide but not quite. He was happy. ¡°Thank you for indulging me, Aurora. I look forward to working with you.¡±

    ¡°I know you do.¡±

    And then Yoro was gone, flickered away at high-speedster speeds.

    Aurora waited a moment, and then she squared her shoulders and strode down to take care of a problem she had seen in Yoro¡¯s mind; a problem that she had carefully not discussed in the open, and which was the main reason that Yoro had asked Aurora to violate his mind¡­ One of the reasons, anyway.

    At least Yoro had a beautiful mind.

    He was probably trying to show it off to Aurora too, wasn¡¯t he.

    Aurora frowned a little, and then she put away her frown and went down two levels to a ¡®meeting¡¯ that was taking place between three people who should not be ¡®meeting¡¯ like they were, at all. At least they were doing it behind thick doors and semi-adequate obscuring wards, but they should have known better than to trust these wards.

    Aurora knocked on the door, saying, ¡°Open up, Mother.¡±

    Two seconds later the door opened, and Aurora¡¯s mood plummeted.

    Aurora walked into the room and closed the door behind her, taking in the sight of a dragon rite that was just finishing.

    The room was candlelit, with white flames on the wicks. The altar ahead was white stone with a depression in the center and a large egg-shaped stone in that depression. White-flame candles glowed around the egg-stone and the insides of the egg-stone seemed to glitter, like a false light buried under white glass.

    Master Rylan Drakemore, Grand Healer Lysara Whisper, and the final one, Duchess and Apothecary Elaria Valen, Aurora¡¯s mother, all wore white, all of them participants in the worship of Gedahowla the Bright; in what remained of the fabled dragon¡¯s imagery.

    ¡°I wish you could have left all of this behind, Mother, but of course that was impossible,¡± Aurora said. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be in your shop, anyway? Showing kids how apothecaries work on Daihoon?¡±

    Mother was completely unrepentant as she changed the subject, saying, ¡°I did that. I might do it again. Mark showed up, you know. He had no idea who I was.¡±

    Aurora was not surprised at that. ¡°The boy wants to kill things and not be involved in politics at all. Of course he doesn¡¯t know you.¡±

    ¡°But he wants to be a noble. A king,¡± Rylan said.

    Aurora almost denounced all of that as the superhero plays of Earth, but then she saw her mother, her cousin Lysara, and the family friend, Rylan, all looking a lot more serious than they should.

    Mark¡¯s little ¡®crown¡¯ in that party had made a splash, huh?

    Aurora decided at that moment that she would have none of it.

    Aurora commanded, ¡°When I leave here, you will chuck the candles, the altar, and the egg, out of the ship. You will burn your robes. We will not be worshiping Addavein, we will not be making plans with his ¡®brother¡¯ in that way, and you will never again display any worship of Gedahowla the Bright anywhere, ever again.¡± Aurora lost all patience, exclaiming, ¡°New gods kill the old! We will not be returning to worship of dragons at all. It is beneath us¡ª¡±

    Mother interrupted, ¡°This isn¡¯t worship. It is a hope for more of Gedahowla¡¯s kind. It is a hope that Gedahowla wasn¡¯t the last good dragon in the world. It is a hope for a better future. Please, continue to kill all that which threatens, but do not try to kill our hopes for a better future¡­¡± She deflated a little. She said, ¡°We¡¯ll trash it all once we¡¯re done¡­ and we¡¯re done, anyway.¡±

    Aurora let it go, then focused on the actual problem, ¡°We¡¯re not letting Addavein participate in the settlement.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Well of course not!¡± Mother said, ¡°Addashield was the one who saved the family in the Reveal, when Gedahowla¡¯s coven turned on her and killed her and half of all the Valen family, and most of the branch families. Addavein is just another dragon, until proven otherwise.¡±

    ¡­ Aurora narrowed her eyes. ¡°Until proven otherwise, huh?¡±

    Mother wisely said nothing.

    Lysara and Rylan also said nothing.

    Aurora gripped all of the candles and the altar and every bit of worship of the white dragon and ripped it into gravel and paste, turning it all into a ball of stone and trash at her feet, the white light of the fires turning to ash in her rainbow grip. The stone rolled to the side and sat there against the wall, leaving a trail of wax on the ground. Aurora had left them their white robes.

    She illuminated the air with rainbows of her own.

    Mother simply said, ¡°We were going to trash it when we were done.¡±

    ¡°And you were done, so I helped,¡± Aurora said. She flicked the switch on the wall, turning on the cabin lights. ¡°Please return to your stations. Hopefully nothing happens on the flight, but it¡¯s best to be prepared for that sort of thing rather than holed up in a room somewhere, worshiping dead things.¡±

    Mother just tsk¡¯d.

    Aurora opened the door and walked out, toward the next problem she had seen in Yoro¡¯s memories.

    It was going to be a busy day.

    - - - -

    A full day passed fast, and Mark was back in his room, getting ready for bed, laying down in his cubby and reading on his phone. Isoko and Sally were elsewhere, watching a movie in the main hall with a lot of other people, trying to take their mind off of the increasing view of kaiju on the screens in the ship.

    Eliot was laying in his bed, across the room from Mark and facing the wall. He was trying to fall asleep but he was too nervous to do so, which was why Mark was here, keeping him company. Eliot shivered a little, his vector pointed outward in every direction.

    Mark spoke up, ¡°You want me to put you to sleep? Or would you like to talk about whatever is freaking you out?¡±

    Eliot froze.

    Mark waited.

    ¡°Big Silver moved.¡±

    ¡­ Mark paused as his heart beat hard.

    Mark looked at Eliot, and asked, ¡°Show me?¡±

    Eliot rapidly spun a screen into view on the wall of the cabin.

    Mark saw monsters crawling over the world outside, and in the space where the five eyes of Big Silver had been peering over the edge of a mountain ridge, there was nothing. Big Silver had moved.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard.

    He wished he could have seen it move. No one ever saw it move, though. It was always either there, or gone.

    Mark found himself giggling, saying, ¡°There¡¯s always going to be more kaiju to kill, aren¡¯t there?¡±

    The thrill of the hunt vibrated Mark¡¯s entire being.

    Eliot just nodded, and Mark understood that.

    It was terrifying, yes, but¡­

    Gods, Mark wanted to go out there right now¡­ But he would just die, wouldn¡¯t he? Yeah. So¡­ Not yet. Not for a long, long time.

    Mark didn¡¯t tell Eliot that, though. The guy seemed terrified.

    So instead, Mark asked, ¡°Want me to take the fear away?¡±

    Eliot was suddenly unsure.

    Mark added, ¡°I can do that. It¡¯s easy. It¡¯s a crutch, though. Lola warned me about doing it routinely. Facing fears is an important part of growing as a person, and to take away fears harms, in the long term. It harms growth and it harms the ability for a person to persevere. To overcome. But in the short term, it helps. A lot.¡±

    Eliot sat up and looked at Mark. Then he looked at the floor. He gazed at the floor for a long while, saying nothing.

    Mark sat up and waited.

    Eliot looked up at Mark again. ¡°Are you not scared?¡±

    ¡°My flight or fight or freeze response is firmly locked to ¡®fight¡¯, I think. So yeah. I¡¯m scared.¡± Mark glanced at all the kaiju out there, roaming the mountains and the myriad skies of Endless Daihoon, and in the waters below. That was just what he could see, too. Mark was sure there were tons of monsters too small to see from here. Endless Daihoon was truly a realm above the Two Worlds, which made sense, since it was the size of the entire magnetosphere, all the way out to the moon and beyond. Mark turned back toward Eliot. ¡°I¡¯m going to fight. Not freeze, or flee. But fight.¡±

    Eliot grinned a little, though it was strained.

    Mark waited.

    Eliot said, ¡°Take the fear away, please.¡±

    Mark pulsed his heart with a union of fear and acceptance, giving both his and Eliot¡¯s dark emotions to the world, and taking in relief from the fear. Eliot sighed out wonderfully, his shoulders relaxing, his eyes fluttering. He laid back down, and after a muttered, ¡®Thank you¡¯, Eliot was asleep.

    Mark smiled a little bit.

    He read some more before he turned in for the night, too.

    - - - -

    Mark woke up and tried to get meetings with people, with Marigold, and with Grand Mage Solari, but no one was working. Noel, the guy from the Hero/Villain Program, was completely unable to be reached, at all, though Mark had seen him in the mess hall a few times. He wasn¡¯t looking movie-star perfect with his eyes that sunken from lack of relief, but he¡¯d be fine. Eventually.

    Mark hung out with Eliot and the crew and took in some shows in the grand hall, to pass the time.

    He made some adamantium over the resulting few days of not being able to do much at all, but he kept that stuff in his room, away from prying eyes, and scanning devices.

    And he studied. History, geography, and a bunch of other stuff that he had uploaded to Quark before he left. Reading material, basically.

    - - - -

    The crossing passed without incident.

    On one bright morning, Grey Whale flew through a rainbow, out of a fog bank, into a world where the skies were mostly blue, but still made of colored light, and the world below looked like Earth, but not.

    They were on Daihoon.

    Without incident, without issue, they had made it past the first major hurdle of the settlement project.

    Mark once again stood in the nobles'' viewing platform with Sally and Eliot, and also Isoko this time, to watch the world ahead of them and share some glasses of wine with the whole ship, for a crossing well made. And then the news started breaking that all of the screens during the whole trip had been showing lies, AI-edited views of the world beyond, and people started having small issues with being lied to, even if the lies had been for their benefit. Mark understood their anger, of course, but also, so what?

    Aurora assured everyone that this was how it was done during a Crossing, to keep people from freaking out. Endless Daihoon was dangerous, and this was why they wanted to make a portal city to connect to Memphi, and why Tokyo¡¯s portal was so popular.

    Isoko smiled a little bit as she turned and asked, ¡°Eliot! Did you manage to capture any videos of the super-kaiju?¡±

    Eliot shuddered, and said, ¡°They don¡¯t exist.¡±

    Isoko raised eyebrows. ¡°So you deleted them.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t exist!¡± Eliot said.

    Sally shuddered as well, and then she said, ¡°Hit me with the no-fear, Mark.¡±

    Mark did so, and then he included Eliot in the same thing as Eliot made a ¡®hit me, too¡¯, gesture¡ª

    Isoko said, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t do that too much.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°I know.¡± She relaxed. ¡°But a little bit is fine.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s fine,¡± Eliot said, already seeming better. And then he looked out across the world, across the southern oceans of Daihoon, and Mark gazed with him. ¡°And that¡¯s certainly a sight.¡±

    It was summer at the South Pole and though the sky was auroras, it was also bright blue, and the world was illuminated just as it would have been on Earth, with Antarctica pointed toward the sun. Scattered icebergs rested in the waters far away from the green lands of the Southern Continent, which was Daihoon¡¯s name for Antarctica. Rocks floated here and there in the sky, the rainbow lights of the Crossing casually reaching down from the sky-blue auroras overhead to dance across it all, to pass across the bow of the ship like so much soft brightness.

    Already, Mark could tell that the people on board were forgetting the fear of the Crossing. It had been just like Sally had said. Like childbirth, the pain was forgettable unless you were in the moment.

    Mark was already enthralled with what came next, anyway.

    Mark softly said, ¡°Floating mountains.¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°You want one, King Blackvein?¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Those only float because they¡¯re so close to a Crossing. You can¡¯t tow them anywhere.¡±

    Isoko ribbed him, ¡°So you¡¯ve done your research!¡±

    ¡°I had to do something sitting in my room all of the time.¡± Mark added, ¡°Maybe now that most people aren¡¯t freaking out and huddled in their cabins, the business meetings will resume.¡±

    Grey Whale sailed on.

 136

    Mark sat down in a nice library-like room with plush chairs. A viewing screen took up an entire wall, showing off the outside, making the room feel almost like a balcony on the edge of a normal ship. But they were on Grey Whale, the hovership of the settlement project, and Mark was on deck 5, L-8, in one of the meeting rooms of House Metallic.

    Countess Marigold Metallic, the Master of Coin for the settlement project, sat down on a matching chair, to face Mark, smiling gently. She was a mousy kinda woman who was wearing a soft pink dress today, and her hair and lipstick had been colored to match her dress. With an easy sort of way, she said, ¡°I¡¯m glad we can meet again, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for taking the appointment, Marigold.¡±

    A guy in a butler suit placed a tray between Mark and Marigold. Tea steamed in the air and butter cookies waited to be eaten. The butler left just as quickly as he came, shutting the door behind him. The door¡¯s edges flashed with light, the silencing enchantments activating.

    Marigold wasted no time, saying, ¡°All cards on the table: We won¡¯t be selling Addavein¡¯s adamantium, or anything that comes from him. Please don¡¯t try to circumvent this restriction. If we find out that you purposefully sold us Addavein¡¯s adamantium and it got into the supply, then we would take legal action against you based on the Anti-Dragon Accords of the Aluatha Empire and the Humanity Accords of 1978. Expect exile from the settlement project should that happen and heavy restrictions on every other city out there that you attempt to join.¡± She added, ¡°After hearing this, if you continue to wish to try and deceive us by passing Addavein¡¯s adamantium off as your own, then please let us end this meeting now, and we can simply part ways; no harm done. If, however, we discover that you have covertly sold Addavein¡¯s adamantium to others, then we will be pursuing action against you using the same methodology we would have used had you attempted to sell us Addavein¡¯s adamantium.¡±

    She was serious.

    Marigold¡¯s vector was pointed at Mark in an unkind, yet hopeful way. She was prepared to be furious and disappointed, and Mark was stunned by the severity of her vector. Mark had come into this meeting expecting to play hardball, but he had not expected it to happen so fast.

    Marigold waited for his response, but as Mark was taking time to figure out the severity of her statement, her vector turned from hopeful/angry, to just angry. Her face never shifted from perfectly poised, though.

    Marigold eventually breathed deep, then¡ª

    ¡°Sorry. Wait a second, please,¡± Mark said. ¡°I¡¯m trying to¡­ You know about Unionsense, yes? I can tell you¡¯re absolutely furious at me, and I think you think you know why you should be mad at me, because of Addavein, but¡­ I¡¯m not trying to deceive you and pass off Addavein¡¯s adamantium as my own.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m adamantium blooded. There. That¡¯s the big secret¡­ And I can already tell you¡¯re reassessing a lot, and even me telling you about the Unionsense thing is freaking you out some, and I apologize. I am not sure what happened here, or what happened in that meeting four days ago before the crossing with the crown. I do know that I have another extra kilogram of adamantium here that I made, all by myself, and that I will probably be donating to Tulo Kahva unless you have some other suggestion as my banker... Accountant. Whatever. If you still want to do that.¡±

    Mark knew he still needed a competent accountant on his side, though, but that would come out later.

    A lot happened inside of Marigold as Mark spoke.

    When Mark had told Aurora about his ability to make adamantium, she had had a lot more on her mind than just money. Aurora was juggling 10,000 people with 100,000 needs. Aurora had reacted rather calmly because Mark was just one more Big Thing among all the other Very Big Things that she was juggling.

    Marigold was reacting a lot more¡­ strongly. She was laser focused. According to Mark¡¯s research of the past few days, while he had nothing to do but read up on the people, Marigold was entirely focused on money and safety, and, according to Aurora, on the metal blooded people in the project. House Metallic was responsible for all of the mithril blooded, after all. Probably the orichalcum blooded people, too, if there were any of those people around. No adamantium blooded, though. Those people were rare.

    And ¡®rare¡¯ meant many different, important things.

    Marigold was also a lot more turbulent upon hearing that Mark could suss out her emotions so easily, as well as the absolute bombshell that he was adamantium blooded. Adamantium blooded Adamantiumkinetics just didn¡¯t happen.

    Mark kinda wondered why that particular combination didn¡¯t happen, since he had been seeded with adamantium in order to be granted Adamantiumkinesis in the Tutorial, but¡­ maybe he could get that sort of question answered today, too. It wasn¡¯t like Mark could talk to Addavein about this stuff.

    Marigold continued to have a Moment.

    Mark breathed deep. He gestured to the tea. ¡°This looks lovely.¡±

    Marigold rapidly took to Mark¡¯s offered conversation, picking up her own tea and then setting it down and adding sugar, saying, ¡°We have three people in House Metallic with Knacks for cooking and various food preparation. The tea is made by Diviner Lia. She can do a tea reading if you wish for one. This tea has no leaves in it though, of course.¡±

    Mark added a bit of sugar to his own steaming tea and sipped it, tasting something that made him think of a chilly Fall evening, but wrapped up in a warm center. ¡°It¡¯s good tea. I understand Earth has a whole thing with tea leaf reading over in Japan. I didn¡¯t know that Daihoon had the same. Is Diviner Lia a Seer?¡±

    Seers were about 1 out of every 100 Awakened people, as far as Mark knew. They could divide off pieces of their astral body and affect things at great distances, and still be connected to those distant pieces of themselves, unlike everyone else. Unlike Mark, or Isoko, Sally, or Eliot, or everyone else he knew, really.

    Marigold said, ¡°Convergent evolution happens in culture, too. A lot of happenings develop independently, on opposite sides of the worlds, but end up looking the same in the end. Most random happenstance, from the spilling of pig guts to the formations of birds in flight, to the distribution of tea leaves at the bottom of cups, can all be used for divination purposes. Diviner Lia is not a Seer, but, if you follow the rituals with clarity and purpose, and if you understand that the end result is open to a great deal of interpretation, certain things can be done by anyone.¡±

    Mark nodded, hearing most of that, but mostly he was focused on Marigold¡¯s transforming vector. She was coming to grips with something very, very large, her vector spread in many directions, focused on many things. Her focus seemed to be expanding.

    And then Marigold went silent, looking off to the side, at the viewing screen.

    Mark looked to the side with her.

    The skies of Daihoon were cloudy and blue today, just like on Earth, but on Daihoon, they were only blue when looked at through a great distance, like on the horizon. At the top of the screen, where the sun shone straight down, Mark saw soft rainbows. Clouds obscured most of the true distance out there, but the sky over there, at the horizon, was blue.

    At night, on Earth, the sky was blue-black and stars shone in the vastness of space.

    At night, on Daihoon, the sky was full of dark auroras, almost fully black-blue just like on Earth, but where the stars shone and where the arm of the Milky Way stretched, the sky was alight with tiny, flickering rainbows. When the moon was in the sky and bright, it was almost like a second sun. Endless Daihoon shone through the sky, no matter where you looked.

    It was never fully dark on Daihoon.

    Mark and Marigold looked out at the sky for a little bit longer.

    Mark found that he did not hate the silence.

    Marigold eventually asked, ¡°Do you know the story of the Dragon King?¡±

    ¡°I do not,¡± Mark easily said, ¡°I was raised Orthodox Curtain, if you want to call it that. Some people have.¡±

    Marigold nodded, fully expecting that. ¡°The original story is 4,000 years old, about a thousand years after the Magefall that caused the Separation of Worlds. We mostly know those numbers based on the generalizations and exactitudes that the demons are willing to give our archmages, but those exact dates are, as you can imagine, unreliable. Demons are always working angles against each other, and humans are forever their playthings. The same can be said for dragons.¡±

    ¡°¡­ I can imagine that, yes,¡± Mark said, knowing that Marigold was speaking for the sake of speaking. Maybe she was as nervous as Mark right now.

    Marigold continued, ¡°The original story of the Dragon King is not the popular version today, though the original was a popular version at the time; that is the only reason why we even know the story these days, 4,000 years later. The original story is about a guy who raises a kingdom and who gets one over on everyone he encounters. From demons to dragons to other kings and otherwise. He makes a kingdom. It¡¯s prosperous and wonderful, and everyone thinks he will solve the problem of the dragons and the demons, because he has so many on his side. He lived for 200 years, constantly making Daihoon a better place. He sends out armies against the demons to try and restore Arakino to glory, to cut down the demons who control everything. Never works, of course, but those stories are always a ¡®We¡¯re so close! Just one more try, and this time we¡¯ll get it right!¡¯ sort of thing. The original story was always full of hope for salvation, and even those incursions against the demons were successful in small ways.

    ¡°The Dragon King¡¯s signature is¡­ was a 10-taloned crown, like the one you made out of your adamantium.¡±

    Mark felt a few things click into place. ¡°Ah¡­ So¡­¡± Mark had a think that got him nowhere, and then he said, ¡°The original story ends in tragedy.¡±

    Marigold smiled sadly. ¡°Yes. The original story is a tragedy.¡± She gestured to the viewing screen, though she was really gesturing to the entire world, as she said, ¡°As you know some history, I assume, you know that the Reveal and the work of the Two Worlds, countless new technologies, millions of people, and several very crucial people, is the only thing that actually saved us at all. The dragons and the demons did as they wanted during the Reveal, of course, and threatened to kill us all. But it was the work of civilizations to pull us back from the brink, to bring us to the state we are today; a state of prosperity, where the New Pantheon enables us to continue to grow, and thrive, and drive out the evils of our Two Worlds.

    ¡°¡­ Anyway.

    ¡°As for the Dragon King.

    ¡°When he failed to achieve what everyone wanted of him, and when he died¡­ no one knows how he died, exactly, only that he did. The stories are muddled.

    ¡°When he died, the world broke just that much more.

    ¡°4,000 years ago we had, according to the historians, a few tens of empires, each maybe half of the size of the Empire of Aluatha, the Dominion of Okuana, and, when taken as a whole, the Settlement of Xerkona. All of those unknown empires broke in a cascading failure that would be continually repeated from then unto the Reveal. People made empires and dragons and demons killed empires. When the empires got big enough to break even more on the way down, that¡¯s when it got bad. We call those particular failures ¡®Magefalls¡¯, and you can always point to one big incident that causes every Magefall. The Reveal could have been yet another Magefall, but instead, we ended up with the Reveal.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°The atomic bombs of Earth helped Daihoon stabilize a lot.

    ¡°The original story of the Dragon King, told during his time, is one of triumph and hope for the future.

    ¡°His story today is one of hubris and the evils of trusting one person to actually solve any real problems. So¡­ When you adopt that crown of 10 points, that is the history you play upon. It¡¯s basically bedtime stories for kids and some popular fiction out there¡ª It¡¯s a trope in fiction. ¡®The Dragon King¡¯ is about hubris and downfall and the inherent problems in trusting in people who have too much power. The nuances change, but the basic fiction is in that general direction.¡±

    Marigold finished.

    That was a lot of stuff that Mark did not know.

    Mark sat in his chair, thinking.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is that a¡­ a popular story? I haven¡¯t made any actual declarations as a villain for the Hero/Villain program yet, but I was thinking of doing the tyrant-king-thing¡­ but maybe I should change it? To avoid that history?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t actually asking for Marigold¡¯s guidance, but instead to get a sense if he should rethink certain things. He was rather popular in the common news cycle these days, so if he leaned into this whole Dragon-King-thing, then maybe people would¡­ What? Leave him alone?

    Would that be a good thing?

    ¡°Dragon King fiction is not a very popular part of fiction these days,¡± Marigold said, ¡°But if you took up a Tyrant King persona then eventually people would connect you to that history. Honestly, I think you should wear the 10-point crown, specifically to adopt that history. The fact that you are the Dragon¡¯s Brother sort of... cinches all of that into a neat little bundle of ideas that people can relate to based on existing fiction. I¡¯m not sure how it would work out, for I am not a media analyst, but you should bring it up with your handlers in the Villain Program. They¡¯d have a better finger to all of that than I.

    ¡°What I can tell you, however, is that a popular villain can make just as much money as a popular hero, and I doubt that you being adamantium blooded will be a true issue for you. You¡¯ll be making millions on movie deals, if you want.¡± Marigold added, ¡°There¡¯s a lot to talk about regarding all of that, of course, but I can tell you that House Metallic can easily meet your needs as both a supervillain and adamantium blooded. We can even offer you some basic protection services, as we would to all of our metal blooded people, but I doubt you actually need them. Obviously you wouldn¡¯t want to spread around the fact that you¡¯re adamantium blooded, and House Metallic can keep that secret in confidence as well as sell whatever adamantium you wish to offload, but we would have to tell certain people in certain circles where we¡¯re getting the adamantium from, so that we¡¯re not held liable under the Humanity Accords.¡±

    Marigold was right; there was a lot to talk about regarding all of that.

    But her tone and her vector had aligned in calm certainty, and Mark was feeling the same way. She had given Mark a good lay of the land. Now, they had to get down to actual matters. Maybe even some real numbers.

    Mark said, ¡°Thank you for the information about the Dragon King. I¡¯ll take that up that whole¡­ trope and story idea with the Program, with Noel Oliphant. On the surface, right now, I think I like the Dragon King everything a whole lot. You know¡­ I wanted to be a superhero. I still do, even after everything that has happened. I don¡¯t actually care about fame, though, and I would prefer for people not to see me as¡­¡± Mark searched for the words. ¡°People don¡¯t need to see me as a hero before I have actually become a hero. I haven¡¯t really done anything. Not yet. And even if I do end up doing something amazing, I¡¯m fine with just going back out and doing it again. So taking on the persona of a character from ancient history that everyone assumes will fail, and whom they don¡¯t want to associate with¡­ that sounds good, to me. I don¡¯t need to be anyone¡¯s worshiped hero.¡± Mark had another thought, and added, ¡°And me being a failed king would push Addavein toward adopting the idea of democracy being the way forward, yeah? That sounds like a winning idea.¡±

    Marigold easily said, ¡°Don¡¯t attempt to politic around dragons. It always ends poorly.¡±

    Mark smirked a little. ¡°But for 200 years it worked well!¡±

    Marigold¡¯s eyebrows went up, and then she laughed once. ¡°That¡¯s a dangerous level of confidence.¡±

    Mark was suddenly struck by a fact he had been told years ago, by his Tutorial trainer at highschool, that was relevant right now. Mark tried to recall the whole saying, but the words started tumbling out before he was fully ready.

    ¡°You have to have a dangerous level of confidence to go out into the wilds day after day, to face fears and conquer them, because if you don¡¯t, then you¡¯re gonna die to fear before you could ever die to what would have actually killed you.¡±

    And¡­ yeah. That was mostly correct.

    Marigold smirked a little. And then she asked, ¡°What kind of sales of adamantium are you looking to achieve?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I can make about 1 kilo per 6 days if I am focused on nothing but that, but I will be focused on a lot more than that... And I don¡¯t want to actually sell it. Not much. I gave some to the settlement project for a kaiju blade, and I plan to do that a lot... Eliot is making buildings, and I think he already has an account with you?¡±

    Marigold tentatively nodded. ¡°Yes. Eliot has an account with us¡ª¡± She strongly asked, ¡°So you don¡¯t want to sell the adamantium?¡±

    ¡°I want to sell some adamantium and get several million goldleaf and then funnel most of that money back into protective measures for the settlement. I want to make sure that this thing succeeds, wildly, and that I get a flying castle and learn all of the magic without getting demons involved and I want to kill kaiju¡­¡± Mark was really getting into it, but he pulled back some because even he could tell his enthusiasm needed dampening. He finished with, ¡°And if dragons become problems, then I want to kill them, too.¡±

    Marigold nodded, and then she began, ¡°Several million goldleaf as a start? You have a false idea of how much money it takes to make a flying castle or to learn true magic. To start with, a flying castle requires as much upkeep as the Grey Whale, and the starting realm for such a cost is from 750,000,000 to 2.5 billion goldleaf as an initial cost and then an easy 500 million per year. Mage school is much cheaper at 250,000 per year, but that¡¯s basic training. If you want to learn ¡®all of the magic¡¯ then that is 20 years of study and running up an increasingly large budget, sometimes totaling a billion goldleaf per year. Admittedly, you¡¯d have to go through a bunch of adamantium in order to learn how to work adamantium, and that would be a major expense you could forgo, but I will not discount that part of the lay of the land. The nature of your desires can only really be met by a noble house. Are you planning on becoming a noble, or attaching to a noble house?¡±

    ¡­ Those were some big numbers.

    But not outside of Mark¡¯s expectations. Not really.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll do my own noble house eventually. Aurora has told me what it will require. It¡¯s not anything I¡¯m interested in pursuing at this exact instance in time. What I do want to pursue is¡­ Well. To start smaller, I want to make sure my team is going to be okay if something should happen to me, and I want to give good weapons to people so that the settlement is safer. I¡¯m imagining making adamantium swords for certain people, or whatever it needs to be. I haven¡¯t gone to the Builder Guild or the Artificer Guild yet, but those people are next on my list. Tulo Khava knows about the adamantium blood thing, and I have an appointment with him in a few hours.¡±

    Marigold nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a more reasonable starting point. I suggest you make do with the normal ways in which we¡¯ll be bringing money into the settlement, through monster hunts and kills and such, for a little while. Months, perhaps. When you can locate an adamantium monster in the wilds to hunt, or if you ¡®find deposits in the ground somewhere¡¯, then we can talk about offloading adamantium and making major purchases, but until then, House Metallic is also selling all of the normal monster parts to Crytalis and the Aluatha Empire, so we¡¯ll be working together a lot. Now are there any questions you have? Otherwise I¡¯ll be putting together some information packages about investment plans and locating a personal accountant for your needs. I have two in mind, and maybe a third one, if they want to move out of Crytalis.¡±

    Mark felt good about this.

    Mark stood, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t have any questions at this time, and I¡¯m fine with a delay on adamantium sales. I imagine I¡¯ll be working with Aurora and Tulo Khava for a while.¡±

    Marigold stood, nodding.

    There were a few more pleasantries, and exchanges of information, with Mark using Quark to talk to House Metallic¡¯s AI and do some quick exchanges, and then Mark was out of there, walking down the hall, feeling pretty accomplished.

    He imagined being a Dragon King, and found the idea more and more palatable for reasons he didn¡¯t quite understand. Was the allure of it the idea of just being unabashedly free with his power? With saying ¡®fuck you¡¯ to Curtain Protocol? With tearing monsters apart and bringing forth peace and hope to all humanity?

    ¡­ Which one did he like more? Tearing monsters apart, or the end result of killing monsters?

    Oh¡­ Well¡­ Equally, right?

    Mark was pretty sure he was perfectly happy right now¡­ walking hallways and having meetings with people¡­ Er¡­ no. He didn¡¯t actually like this all that much, but it was necessary.

    ¡­ Maybe he needed to do something that would minimize his time making decisions about money and other shit like that, because, another thought occurred, and threw everything into disarray.

    Mark imagined being rich. Truly rich. Fuck off rich. Buy-you-sell-you kinda rich. Because that¡¯s what having millions of goldleaf would do.

    ¡­ huh.

    Mark found that whole idea of being super rich weirdly off putting for reasons he couldn¡¯t understand¡ª

    Well.

    He could understand, actually.

    He didn¡¯t want to deal with money. He wanted to solve actual problems.

 137

    ¡°But Mark,¡± Sally deadpanned, ¡°Money can solve problems, too.¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°Oh come on. You know what I mean!¡±

    The four of them were at lunch in their rooms because Eliot had scored some chicken strips from the crew mess hall, through Carl, and they had to eat in private or other people would catch on to the fact that there was meat on the trip. Just not meat for everyone.

    Eliot shrugged, dipping his strip into a sweet and spicy sauce, saying, ¡°Money is fucking great. I-D-K your problem.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I agree with Eliot.¡±

    Sally slapped the wall and announced, ¡°By popular decision, Mark is overruled! Money is great.¡±

    ¡°Hear hear!¡± Eliot cheered, with Isoko making a, ¡°Wooo, money!¡±

    Mark scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to deal with it. I want¡­¡± Mark admitted, ¡°I like power. Not money directly.¡±

    Isoko laughed. ¡°A true supervillain!¡±

    Sally went, ¡°Mmm hmm!¡±

    ¡°Just do what I¡¯m gonna do.¡± Eliot smiled. ¡°Hire people who know what they¡¯re doing so I never have to care about the money at all.¡±

    Sally scoffed at Eliot, saying, ¡°Now that¡¯s completely irresponsible! You gotta know what your money is doing. You can¡¯t let other people control it... Wait. Aren¡¯t you a noble? I shouldn¡¯t have to tell you this.¡±

    Eliot laughed.

    ¡°Counterpoint,¡± Isoko said, ¡°Hire out the job, and if someone fucks you over, you can literally throw them to a dragon and now no one will ever fuck with you ever again.¡±

    Mark gasped. ¡°Isoko!¡±

    Eliot clicked his tongue. ¡°That¡¯s how you do it.¡±

    Mark gasped, ¡°Eliot!¡±

    Isoko grinned.

    Sally looked like she was considering murder as a reasonable response to embezzlement, of all the damned things.

    Mark looked at Sally and exclaimed, ¡°Oh my gods! You guys!¡±

    ¡°She makes a good point,¡± Sally said, which caused Isoko to practically hoot with laughter. Sally continued, ¡°But! No dragon-shaped disposal units. You could do something else similarly villainous but less final and get a similar point across. Destroying a person¡¯s house? That would work.¡±

    ¡°And I can remake it for a fee!¡± Eliot said. ¡°It¡¯s the perfect villain scheme!¡±

    Mark was distinctly uncomfortable with destroying houses and especially uncomfortable with running a¡­ a what? A racket? But Eliot was joking so¡­

    Eliot was joking, right?

    Mark chose to believe that Eliot was joking, but some of this conversation was very serious. There was an undercurrent.

    Isoko said, ¡°You¡¯re way too serious about being fucked over about money, Sally. There are a lot of laws that prevent that sort of thing, and the settlement is interested in Mark and Eliot making good lives here. Us too. They¡¯re not going to let any sort of embezzlement issues ari...se.¡± Isoko kinda flubbed her words there at the end, because she was feeling what Mark was feeling. Sally was beyond pissed, even though she was desperately trying not to show it. Isoko said, ¡°Uh. Sorry?¡±

    Sally had not told them about what had happened to her last group. Not the truth, anyway. All they knew is that Anara, Sally¡¯s previous girlfriend, was killed in action, and their noble contact was dissolved. Sally had been lying to them, somewhat.

    Sally pulled back, realizing she had gotten unexpectedly angry. ¡°No. Uh¡­ You did nothing wrong. I was just¡­ thinking.¡± And then she latched on to something she could say, without revealing what had happened to her, ¡°But nobles lie to get what they want. They¡¯re held to a different set of laws than most other people. That¡¯s the problem. You¡¯re gonna hire some noble lawyer and when they fuck you over you have no recourse. Eliot and Mark could totally do a housing racket and no one would care!¡±

    Eliot rolled his eyes. ¡°I wasn¡¯t serious, and I doubt that ¡®no one would care¡¯. Some people would care a whole lot, and cause big, big problems.¡±

    Isoko just let Eliot speak for her, because she didn¡¯t want to step into this whole thing any further than she already had. Eliot was aware something was happening, but he didn¡¯t have Mark and Isoko¡¯s Unionsense. Eliot had no problem talking.

    Mark found he could say a few things, too. He said, ¡°There¡¯s no two-law system at the settlement according to all of the stuff I read.¡±

    Sally Looked at Mark, silently wondering if he truly believed that.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure?¡± Mark said.

    Eliot spoke up, ¡°All of Daihoon operates under the two-law system, which has been imported to Earth, but in a lesser way. I think Mark was subject to the noble-classification of laws before Orange City got exploded, because he donated that adamantium to the city. First Citizens, yeah?¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°Oh?¡±

    Sally was skeptical. ¡°That mattered?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah it did, but it¡¯s all loose international agreements, and noble courts rarely ever happen on Earth.¡± Eliot said, ¡°You only hear of people going to a higher court if they¡¯re, like, a superhero.¡± Eliot looked to Isoko. ¡°Didn¡¯t your grandmother go to court for abducting that True Healer?¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°Maybe someone went to court, but there was never any real legal action. Just a bunch of social action and the Villain Program telling her that she couldn¡¯t work in the open anymore.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°So that right there. That¡¯s what usually happens to powerful people. That¡¯s what I expect to happen to us if we get into legal trouble, or if anyone does anything harmful to us. As long as no one dies it¡¯s just a learning experience. Aurora wants the settlement to work more than she cares about everyone playing nice with each other. Basically: We¡¯re in the army now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a little looser than that,¡± Isoko said, though her tone had a bit of a plea to it.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Well yeah,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Looser than that.¡±

    Sally was still concerned, but backed off a whole lot, trying not to be worried as she said, ¡°I¡¯m just saying that Mark¡­ is probably still a commoner, and nobles can and will fuck him over?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°He¡¯s probably still a commoner, yeah.¡± Eliot told Mark, ¡°You¡¯d have to fight for recognition as a noble from Orange City, if you wanted that recognition.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Mark easily decided.

    Sally seemed relieved by that. She said, ¡°Okay! So, as I was saying, the two groups have different obligations. First Citizens need to defend the land and are responsible for that, and if they fail or if they abandon their obligations, then they¡¯re relegated to Second Citizens status. The law protects First Citizens who protect the land and the people, and if a First should accidentally break the car or house or legs of a Second, then the Second can only ever expect to be reimbursed by the city for their losses. The Second can¡¯t actually fight a First in a court of law, unless they pass a review board. Even murders have to go through the review board.¡±

    Mark had never really thought about that, but Sally clearly had.

    And yeah; he understood Sally¡¯s anger. The system was kinda fucked up. A lot.

    If Mark would have been a First Citizen without giving away that adamantium cube then he could have gotten better medical treatment without needing to rely on Addashield¡¯s kindness. Of course, Addashield hadn¡¯t given Mark that bit of adamantium until after Addashield had gotten Mark woken up and Mark had forgiven him, and he had probably felt guilty¡ª

    A rage threatened.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat black, his veins edging out of his skin.

    Fuck fuck fuck.

    Mark pulled back from those thoughts, pulling his hand away from the hot stovetop of his past, before he burned too badly.

    Only Isoko had really noticed, because Sally was focused on Eliot and Eliot was focused on Sally, and Sally was still speaking. Isoko just glanced at Mark, questioning. Mark focused and ignored the past, and his vector calmed. Isoko looked at Mark a bit more, but Mark ignored the look.

    Sally said, ¡°And any accountant you get from House Metallic will be a First Citizen, but we¡¯re all still Second¡ª Or at least I am? I thought Mark was still Second, too¡­ Isoko?¡± Sally frowned a little. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about that.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m Second. Mark is Second, too?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I haven¡¯t thought about it and I don¡¯t care to start.¡±

    And now everyone looked at him.

    Mark was silent.

    Eliot said, ¡°Mark is Second unless he wants to fight for First, but there¡¯s no classification at the settlement while we¡¯re still settling. We¡¯re all at ¡®settler status¡¯, legally, so we¡¯re all at the same, third level¡­ Maybe a .5 level, actually¡ª Point is! We¡¯re not going to run into any embezzlement trouble. Not from House Metallic. That is just outlandish thinking. Might as well plan for the walls of every house you live in to collapse whenever you sleep. If House Metallic was discovered to have done something untoward, and there was proof, it would¡­ Well. It would not ruin them¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Sally said. ¡°See! They can get away with whatever they want.¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut it would make things difficult for them. They¡¯d want to solve whatever bad thing happened to keep Mark and I in their good graces.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°And what about Isoko or I? Would they roll over us, if they could? If they wanted to?¡±

    Isoko hummed a little, uncomfortable for any number of reasons.

    Eliot wasn¡¯t sure what to say. He had already said it all. Sally just didn¡¯t believe that she or Mark weren¡¯t going to get screwed over.

    The spectre of inequality loomed.

    Mark made a decision and said, ¡°House Metallic has a majority interest in the trade of biometals in the Aluatha Empire. They have a history of bringing in all of the biometal people they can, specifically through good deals and proper protection. The Goddess Pluta endorses them based on their healthy business practices.¡± Mark shrugged. ¡°So, I think worrying about them fucking over Eliot or I, or either of you two, is a counterproductive avenue of thought. If they fuck with you, they fuck with me, and I hope the same is true in reverse. We can defend ourselves from anything and anyone.¡±

    Sally got a weird, good sense of turbulence to her vector, and so did Isoko, but in a different way.

    Isoko said nothing.

    Eliot grinned.

    Mark continued, ¡°So I¡¯m gonna take whoever Marigold suggests as an accountant and see about doing¡­ like, payroll for hiring other people. Or whatever. However it goes, you know?¡± Mark wasn¡¯t sure where he was going with that, but then he realized his destination. ¡°The settlement doesn¡¯t function in some ephemeral sort of way. It only functions when stuff is supported. So I plan on supporting whoever is gonna raise chickens and fish and stuff, because I want meat on the menu. I liked your idea, Sally, of making a restaurant and then being able to eat there all the time because I own it. Do you want to go in on that investment with me?¡±

    Sally was very silent, unsure of what to say.

    Mark continued, ¡°It¡¯s a long term idea, anyway. I¡¯m sure that there¡¯s going to be lots of options for food in the settlement. When I get a chance to talk to Reeni Thumb, of Agriculture and Resource Management, I¡¯ll know more about all of that stuff. I have an appointment with her tomorrow or the next day; I¡¯m not sure. But today, I have an appointment to talk with Tulo Khava about weapons and stuff. And then there¡¯s talk to be had with Nightbolt about the Kaiju Team stuff whenever I can get around to it.¡± Mark looked to Isoko, specifically, and then Sally, saying, ¡°I think both of you want to be in on that, right?¡± Mark asked Eliot, ¡°I¡¯m not actually sure where you want to be on the kaiju teams, though.¡±

    ¡°Kaiju support for me,¡± Eliot easily said. He chuckled. ¡°I thought that was obvious.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Kaiju support. Nightbolt is having a meeting with everyone for that in three days, when we¡¯re closer to Crytalis.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°Are we actually stopping in Crytalis? I haven¡¯t heard.¡±

    ¡°I heard we¡¯re not allowed to get off the ship,¡± Mark said.

    Sally added, ¡°Yes, that.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°We¡¯re stopping to get some language and disease resistance magics cast on the whole settlement. Stuff like that. Vaccines, too. Some people might be coming aboard, but no one is leaving.¡±

    ¡°Are there many magical diseases?¡± Isoko asked, unsure. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware that was a real problem.¡±

    ¡°Parasites and stuff can be a problem. That¡¯s what the vaccines are for,¡± Eliot said.

    Sally said, ¡°I got all of that done last time, but there was some stuff that I didn¡¯t get treated for that was too expensive. Like putrescent slug vaccines. Is that one on the list of protections?¡±

    Eliot grimaced. He lost a bit of his appetite, saying, ¡°Yeah. There¡¯s also gobbo green, and...¡±

    The conversation moved along, to talk of what it meant to really carve out a part of the world and make it habitable for humans.

 138

    Mark stepped off of the stairs and turned right, to face a closed bulkhead door with the words ¡®Weapons Department¡¯ scrawled onto a piece of wood and then slotted into position over the door. A scanner held to the side, and Mark passed Quark over the scanner. The lights turned green and the door opened inward, and Mark stepped into Tulo Khava¡¯s domain on Floor 3, C-7, in the middle of the ship, toward the back.

    It was a normal set of rooms that could be switched out for anything, and which had been switched out for an armory and small forge. This was a war chest.

    Racks upon racks of guns lined up in locks on the walls in one room. Heavy-looking boxes laid on the floor, labeled ¡®AMMO¡¯ with numbers to indicate what type of ammo they were, and what guns they matched. Mark had never paid much attention to guns because they were only useful for so much, but he imagined that some people would really be interested in all of those shooty-things. Mark also imagined that the mithrilkinetics on board were being tasked with making more actually-good ammo, because Mark saw one crate of ¡®mithril ordnance¡¯ that could actually kill something properly.

    Would they ask him to make adamantium bullets?

    Maybe they¡¯d take Addavein¡¯s adamantium to make bullets. They wouldn¡¯t sell it, but turning it into shrapnel to fire at enemies¡­ might be a good way to ¡®wash¡¯ it?

    Or not.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    One room over there was alchemy equipment and big dispensers labeled ¡®Powdered Silver¡¯ and stuff like ¡®Ingredient A¡¯ through ¡®Ingredient G¡¯ on the rest of the shelf. It was an alchemical silver station. Mark imagined that someone could make alchemical silver there, if they knew how. Mark didn¡¯t know how.

    To the right were the actual weapon rooms; the weapons that Mark cared about.

    Rows upon rows of swords, shields, and martial weapons of all kinds. And in the middle of all of it, at the back of the room, were two giant swords, each of them four meters long in total and with mithril cores, but edges made of absolute black. Adamantium edges. Kaiju blades.

    Those blades were probably not the most expensive things on the ship right now, but if the settlement encountered a monster that couldn¡¯t be cracked by normal means, then those blades were the difference between life and death of most everyone on this ship.

    Mark simultaneously felt the kaiju blades were both too hidden, because in case of emergency one needed to get to those blades fast, and also too easily accessed. It was just one weak door and ten steps to get those blades. Someone could steal those blades and then rob everyone in the settlement of their futures, and maybe even lives.

    Of course, there was a person in the room with the blades. Some younger dude in army green was in there sharpening weapons and otherwise maintaining them, it seemed. They glanced up at Mark, and then went back to doing their maintenance.

    Mark imagined that person was either a capable guard for the blades, or just a stumbling block to the theft of those weapons¡­ But it was probably fine.

    Mark walked on, and some woman stepped out of a room and was suddenly there. She had been in the side room, but she had only just realized that there was an ¡®intruder¡¯ in the hallway, so she had jumped out to see who it was. She gasped as she saw Mark.

    ¡°Mark Careed?¡± she asked, excited for some reason.

    Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s me! I have a 2 PM appointment with Tulo Khava.¡±

    ¡°Yes you do! Tulo is¡ª¡±

    A voice erupted from the back of one of the rooms down the hall.

    ¡°MARK IS HERE?!¡±

    If Mark didn¡¯t know about people with Giant¡¯s Strength, like Sally and others, then he would have called the man who slid into the hallway a giant. As it was, Tulo was just a very large, heavily tanned, 40-something man, with big curly blue/black hair strapped down in a tight tail, and wearing a tank top, an apron, and shorts. He looked comfortably muscular with black tattoos wrapped around his arms and up his neck.

    Perhaps it was his big smile that made him look comfortable instead of dangerous.

    ¡°Mark! I am glad to meet you! Yes!¡± Tulo came right up to Mark and clasped his shoulders, smiling right at Mark. ¡°I am very glad to meet you. I am Tulo.¡± He let go. ¡°Let us talk in my office!¡±

    Mark couldn¡¯t help but grin a little. ¡°Nice to meet you, Tulo.¡±

    Tulo¡¯s office was right down the hall and mostly empty, though there were papers on the walls filled with diagrams and the desk was layered with sketchbooks. Other than that, and a few tablets haphazardly resting on charging stations to the side, there was nothing in the office at all. One of the tablets was showing 8% power and it wasn¡¯t actually charging at all; it wasn¡¯t properly seated on the charger. Suddenly, Mark realized something.

    Mark didn¡¯t know much about Tulo, but he had already formed a few opinions about the guy.

    Mark asked, ¡°You must be quite busy.¡±

    ¡°I am, I am!¡± Tulo sat down on his chair and gestured to the other one. ¡°Sit, sit! Let us discuss important topics¡ª Oh! The door. Hit the button, too.¡±

    Mark slipped the door shut as he sat down. He pressed the button labeled ¡®silence¡¯ by the door, and the door¡¯s enchantments flickered on. The sounds of the rest of the ship mostly vanished.

    Mark said to Tulo, ¡°I assume you got the adamantium. Aurora had some runner run it down here?¡±

    ¡°I did! I cannot wait to work on it.¡± Tulo plucked out a sketchbook from the pile and slapped it in front of Mark. ¡°But blades made of biometal need guidance to work properly. I need to understand the spirit of the metal before I can make the sword. Usually I get that understanding by looking at the corpse of the monster it came from, but in your case¡­¡± He smiled. ¡°I can just ask you. Now! Which of these sketches do you like best?¡±

    Mark had no idea what the guy was talking about. Adamantium was just a type of crystallized mana, wasn¡¯t it?

    But¡­ thinking of adamantium as crystallized mana did make it seem like knowing some intent, or whatever, might make the sword-making¡­ easier?

    Mark was unsure of everything right now, so Mark picked up the sketchbook and looked at the sketches.

    Tulo stared at him, his vector fully focused on Mark, as Mark flipped through the pages.

    Now Mark appreciated a good weapon. He really did. But these were all sketches of swords. They were nice swords, of course. They weren¡¯t particularly interesting to Mark, though. There was the standard 3 meter blade, no adornment and a simple handle. Another option was a flamberge; a wave blade. Mark kinda liked that one, but dismissed it as impractical. Another sword was curved, and Mark liked that one just because a kaiju blade had to cut, and a curved weapon did that the best. The point of a kaiju blade was to part the scales or other hard material in order to open the path to actually killing the beast.

    Mark flipped back¡ª

    ¡°Ahh¡­ None of them, huh? This is troubling,¡± Tulo said, sitting back in his chair, thinking.

    Mark was about to evade the accusation that he didn¡¯t like any of them¡­ but then he said, ¡°I like the curved shape for cutting open a path forward, but honestly I prefer the spear. A halberd. Glaive. Bardiche. Even a naginata is nice, though it¡¯s kinda hard to wield a spear with a katana at the end of it, but it¡¯s still nicer than a sword for most of the work that I do. Any weapon with range and a cutting head; that¡¯s what I prefer.¡± Mark added, ¡°Also¡­ Do you really look at corpses to figure out how to make a kaiju blade?¡±

    Tulo hummed as he considered Mark¡¯s words, looking at Mark, thinking.

    Mark waited.

    Eventually, Tulo said, ¡°Kaiju blades are swords because the Tactical Telekinesis of a brawny is best delivered across the edge of adamantium by them holding the shaft and holding onto a little bit of the adamantium, lined down the shaft. All of the mithril behind the edge of adamantium is merely there to support the depth of a proper TT, to focus it toward the edge, to make sure that the world parts before an edge of absolute purpose, followed through with grace. Kaiju blades usually don¡¯t even have guards because they need all the edge they can get.

    ¡°A spear is, by its very nature, not all edge.¡± Tulo asked, ¡°Do you see the issues I have with making a spear? Spears cannot be made as strongly as a sword. The amount of adamantium that needs to be run along the length of the shaft in order to connect to the smaller cutting head is a waste. Simply a waste.¡±

    ¡°Uh. Well¡­? I can make more of the stuff? The amount of adamantium you¡¯re going to have is not an issue.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Tulo shook his head. ¡°This is bad form. A blade needs more than just edge.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well? Okay.¡± Mark set the sketchbook down on the table. ¡°I like the katana-shape, then.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good choice!¡± Tulo said, smiling. ¡°Not many kaiju blades are curved, but the curved shape is fantastic for cutting.¡± He said, ¡°It was good to meet you, Mark.¡±

    ¡­ Was he dismissing Mark?

    Er...

    No.

    Mark nodded, and then said, ¡°I¡¯d like to learn how to make weapons myself, so that I can make full-adamantium weapons for my friends and myself. Can we do some sort of exchange of information? Some learning programs, or something? I plan on giving more adamantium to the settlement, or through you. I¡¯m not sure what Aurora has planned, exactly, but that¡¯s where I¡¯m at right now; what I want.¡±

    Tulo breathed deep, reassessing things.

    Mark waited.

    Tulo said, ¡°Aurora told me of this desire¡­ And I had hoped that it was a fleeting desire. I would want to help you directly, but I cannot. I am busy, working on custom weapon orders for the majority of the settlement and maintaining the weapons systems of Grey Whale. I can hand you off to someone else to give you more personalized instruction, or I can set you up with an online course and answer some questions every week. Maybe show you how to hammer some steel and the best ways to crystallize biometals when you run into trouble.¡±

    Tulo dropped the ball into Mark¡¯s court, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure how to proceed.

    After a moment of thinking, Mark decided, ¡°What sort of online courses do you recommend?¡±

    Tulo happily spoke for a while, writing stuff down for Mark as he did so. Apparently there were hundreds of people forging their own weapons and armor online, and quite a few of them were competent at what they did. A few arcanaeums around the Two Worlds, and particularly in Crytalis, which they were headed toward, had an ¡®open information policy¡¯ on weaponcraft and defensive measures. All of that came with a big caveat, though.

    ¡°Adamantium is fucking difficult, Mark,¡± Tulo said, having become comfortable enough to curse rather soon, in Mark¡¯s opinion. ¡°But you should be able to adapt most of the same lessons from mithrilwork. It¡¯s all different, of course, and mere Shaping can¡¯t get you super-hard edges, though I was impressed to see how hard of an edge you were able to get with those sticks.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I practiced¡­ and I¡¯m pretty sure that Shaping can get you hard edges?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ There¡¯s the thing. I never even heard of an adamantium blooded Adamantiumkinetic, so¡­¡± Tulo smiled. ¡°Your experience might not be the same as the historically recorded experiences of Adamantiumkinetics. Perhaps you might become as good at weaponcraft as the mithril blooded. Just in a different sort of way, of course.¡±

    Mark was struck with several questions at once. He asked, ¡°So you know the history of adamantium blooded people? I haven¡¯t been able to find much aside from the zoos that dragons kept, and the bloodlines they tried to breed and mostly failed. Monsters were much easier to breed for adamantium blood than people. No one really talks about adamantium blooded people. I think there are some hidden histories that are just not written down, though.¡±

    Mark had seen Addashield¡¯s name quite a few times when he was doing that sort of research, too, which kinda put him off of doing too much of that research.

    Mark added, ¡°What sort of Skill do adamantium blooded people usually get?¡±

    Tulo thought for a second. And then he said, ¡°I¡¯m not a Talker¡­ And I don¡¯t think you know what that is?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°I do not.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Where do you think I am from?¡±

    ¡°I honestly do not know. Some Australian city, would be my guess, but there are no Australian cities on that continent in Daihoon, right?¡±

    Tulo nodded, and began, ¡°I am not from Crytalis, and I am not from the Big Island, either, which is what my people call your Australian continent. My people are islanders, in what you would call Southeast Asia, or northern Australia. We used to simply call ourselves ¡®The People¡¯ but that notion proved obviously untrue when it turned out we were not alone on Daihoon.

    ¡°Until the Reveal we thought we were the last surviving people. I wasn¡¯t alive for the Reveal, but my grandparents were. I grew up half in Crytalis, half back home. We Water People travel a lot, just like the Settlers of Xerkona, and we tell stories. The Talkers tell the most stories.

    ¡°I graduated with a Mastery in Technology and Weapons from Calmhaven on the coast of the Empire, and those people on those channels I told you about helped me immensely to secure my apprenticeships and future. They can help you, too. I¡¯ll add another one.¡± Tulo wrote down another name on the sheet he had given Mark, saying, ¡°Biometal History. It¡¯s a good one.

    ¡°Long tale told short: Adamantium blooded are as varied as weapons, which is not that varied, from a certain perspective.

    ¡°Weapons all injure. They carve or smash or stab the world into the shapes the wielder desires. Adamantium blooded people are weapons personified, and their Skills usually mirror this action. It¡¯s usually a Body Skill, but it could be literally anything. The only constant is that the adamantium blooded person expels adamantium in some way, and that expelling is usually how they are an edge to cut the world.

    ¡°Actually being Adamantiumkinetic and adamantium blooded at the same time is rare.

    ¡°Almost all mithril blooded are Mithrilkinetic, of course. Mithril is a Shaper-oriented metal. It flows in the muscles and the veins like ghosts, and a Kinetic can manifest it or hide it at will. You never know how much mithril a mithrilkinetic will have on them. It¡¯s one of the natural functions of mithril; to flow and be flowed. Grace personified.¡±

    Tulo paused for a moment, as if he wondered if he should continue.

    Mark kinda hoped that Tulo would speak about orichalcum blooded people, too, but he had no problem just letting Tulo go wherever he wanted. Mark had never heard of ¡®The People¡¯ before.

    Tulo continued, ¡°Conflating Skills with the person who has them is a sometimes-uncouth thing to do. Not everyone who has Poison Body wants to kill people, and not everyone who wants to be Big Waver¡­ Uh. Glorious Man is probably more familiar. The point is that not everyone gets what they want, or what they think best suits them. Sometimes the Skills that a person develops are not what they want to develop.

    ¡°But mana still influences how it influences, and most metal blooded are influenced by their metal in all ways. The orichalcum blooded are the Speakers of the True Gods. The mithril blooded flow like water, never being touched and yet always touching when they wish. The adamantium blooded are the bones of the world that break the rest.

    ¡°Judging someone based on their mana type isn¡¯t done in Polite Society¡­ But even still, people develop Skills based on certain factors that are inalienably tied to who they are, as a person. So an adamantium blooded person usually develops the ability to impose, to harm, to carve and dominate.

    ¡°So to ask me what sort of Skills an adamantium blooded might have? I would say anything that crushes and disperses your enemies in the most solid ways you can imagine. Or, any Skill that makes you untouchable by normal mortal means.¡±

    Silence.

    Mark said, ¡°Well that was¡­¡± For lack of other options, Mark said, ¡°That was a lot of new information. Thank you! Uh.¡± He stood up. ¡°So I¡¯ll be handing off more metal to you for the protection of the settlement, then?¡±

    Mark was about to plop another kilo of black lines onto Tulo¡¯s desk, but Tulo softly shook his head.

    ¡°Unnecessary at this time.¡± Tulo had an easy smile as he stood. ¡°I¡¯m working on the third blade now, but even having two is a blessing, so you can do whatever you want with your own metal, Mark. I and our people are forever grateful for your creations.¡± He bowed. ¡°Thank you for your service.¡±

    Mark felt a little uncomfortable at Tulo¡¯s obvious deference, or whatever it was he was doing, but also kinda really good. Mark tried not to think about how hot his own face was at being thanked so honestly, so he said, ¡°Of course. Of course. I¡¯m gonna live there too, you know!¡±

    Tulo rose with a smile. ¡°And we¡¯re glad to have you. Now you go watch some of those videos and when you hit a block, you call me up and I can talk shop. You can get pretty far by self-teaching, so you should do that first.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°Then that is what I will do.¡±

 139

    ¡°How was the talk with the armsmaster?¡± Eliot asked, after he shut the door to the room.

    Mark looked up from his video, reorienting his thoughts for a moment. He had been deep into a shaping exercise that he had discovered on the Open Internet for metalkinetics, even though the focus had been on Mithrilkinesis. Adamantiumkinetics were incredibly rare, but every Mithrilkinetic was mithril blooded, and the number of generalized ¡®Metalkinetics¡¯, without a focus on a particular metal, was rather high on Daihoon.

    There might only be one Metalkinetic per thousand Tutorial-takers on Earth, but on Daihoon, there were between 10 to 30 people per 1000 capable of Shaping or Manipulating metallic things. That number included people like Eliot with his Man-made Manipulation, though.

    So there was a lot of stuff to research.

    Mark hadn¡¯t even been aware of all of this stuff. He was glad that the Grey Whale had a good connection to whatever networks were out there, because Mark was in the zone¡­

    Mark looked at Eliot again. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you with Isoko and Sally watching the movie?¡±

    ¡°It got boring and I wanted to sleep for the arrival at Crytalis tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re letting people off?¡± Mark asked, surprised.

    ¡°Nah. Some representatives from Aluatha are coming on board. I might need to make an appearance.¡± Eliot hopped into his bunk on his bed and angled himself onto a hand, to look at Mark. ¡°Sooooo¡­? How was Tulo?¡±

    Mark held up his tablet, showing a paused video, as he said, ¡°Told me to do some self-education, first. Other than that, he seemed¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Mark didn¡¯t want to be mean, but he certainly didn¡¯t want to lie, either. ¡°Messy?¡±

    Eliot laughed. ¡°That¡¯s Tulo! Office a mess, but the forge? Immaculate. I¡¯m sure if he had some proper focus then he could get a lot more done than he does, but he ranked second and third for the last two years of the Aluatha Grand Armsmaster Contest, or something like that, and he has a lot of allowance as long as the weapons keep coming. His weapons don¡¯t break and they¡¯re super reliable if a brawny has even the littlest bit of TT control.¡±

    At the mention of TT control, Mark breathed deep, excited, as he held up his tablet again, and held forth a spike of adamantium. He said, ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m working on right now!¡±

    ¡°I thought that¡¯s what that funky bit of adamantium was for,¡± Eliot said, nodding toward the spike floating in the air.

    The spike was a crystal of pure adamantium that had taken Mark a few hours to figure out how to get the crystallization to start, and then half an hour to actually make a crystal that didn¡¯t fall apart due to weak inner fractures. His big success was 5 inches long and shaped like a 6-sided crystal of quartz, but thin. It was only half a centimeter wide. One end was dull, but the cutting end was fractured into a craggy, angled edge about an inch long and super sharp.

    ¡°It¡¯s so much different than just Shaping the metal.¡± Mark held the crystal up in one Kinetic grip, by just the soft end, and another centimeter-thick plate of adamantium, that was just a disk that Mark had thrown together for the demonstration. Mark then placed a few different coins of adamantium around the room, to provide him with the leverage for his demonstration, saying, ¡°Watch. I¡¯m gonna shove this crystal through the disk, and I will do it with just the strength of the adamantium. I¡¯m not actually holding onto the adamantium at the tip of the crystal, or at the center of the disk.¡±

    It was difficult to keep the parts positioned where they needed to be positioned, but that¡¯s why Mark had supported himself with throwing out anchors, first. With stability and strength, Mark did exactly what he said he was going to do, repeating a demonstration he had done for himself a little bit ago.

    The noise was like metal piercing metal; loud and screeching, like a tram braking.

    Eliot slapped his hands over his ears, saying, ¡°Fuck that¡¯s loud!¡±

    The noise was already over.

    Eliot let his ears go, his eyes a bit wide as he looked at the hole in the metal disk. ¡°¡­ Huh.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Mark grabbed the disk and the crystal spike, and then turned the disk back into a solid thing. It took effort to change the crystal back into a bit of loose adamantium, though. More effort than Mark usually had to expend to ¡®melt¡¯ and reform a bit of adamantium, but he managed that, too. And then he combined the two bits of adamantium and slipped them back onto his wrists, saying, ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that with adamantium, and I didn¡¯t know that this is what they did when they made a kaiju blade¡ª Or. Well. What I did with a crystallization technique was the original method.¡± Mark had seen a bunch of stuff on the internet already, and he would see a bunch more. ¡°There are new methods, though. Apparently they can vibrate and heat lines of adamantium to turn it into edged death. It¡¯s like, some sort of special forging process. I haven¡¯t figured that one out at all, but I think it would require actual heat and doing things that a Shaper cannot do, because that¡¯s what the internet is telling me.¡±

    ¡°How did you manage to make the needle, anyway?¡±

    ¡°I started with a dot of adamantium, as small as I could make it, and then I had to, like¡­¡± Mark started to make another spike as he spoke, going through the motions as he talked about them. ¡°So you start with a dot, yeah? And then you soak it into a bath of adamantium that you keep liquid, but only barely. It¡¯s difficult to do that while Shaping it at the same time, because once the stuff falls out of your touch, it turns solid, and you gotta let it fall out of your touch but stay liquid. So it¡¯s sort of like¡­ Half¡­¡± Mark frowned as he felt his adamantium stay solid. ¡°¡­ Well. I can¡¯t do it right now, for some reason. Fuck. Was the first time a fluke?¡±

    Mark felt out his liquid sphere of adamantium and the core of a solid dot at the center, and the crystal was not forming. Not in any direction at all. Mark pulled and pushed his Kinetic touch in and out of the sphere, feeling it out, and¡­ and nothing.

    Mark huffed. ¡°Fuck¡­ I¡¯m not even sure what I¡¯m doing wrong right now.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he had done right the first time, either.

    Eliot chuckled. ¡°You might need to do more to the starter crystal. That¡¯s usually the problem I have when my crystals don¡¯t grow.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit¡ª Of course you¡¯ve done stuff like this before? What do you make crystals for?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything with biometal, but crystals are used in timing for clocks and stuff. Electronic stuff. Also screens and base materials that others will use. I made crystals of all the metals, just to see if I could, and I couldn¡¯t get anywhere with any biometal, but gold? Bismuth? Those are easy, as long as you start the process properly and go slow.¡± Eliot added, ¡°I didn¡¯t know that you could hurt adamantium with adamantium¡ª Well. I knew forged adamantium was better than unforged. But not by that much.¡± He added, ¡°I think the real strength you had was actually in being able to push against yourself like that. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a lot of astral body strength, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Meh! Sally is stronger.¡±

    ¡°Not in that way. You just¡­ poked metal through metal. Adamantium through adamantium. The pressures involved there are¡­ staggering, you know? ¡­ I don¡¯t think you know at all.¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t think that part was that impressive.¡± Mark poked at the internals of the ball of metal as he said, ¡°Forged adamantium is still Power Level 79, but¡­ I think the forging does something esoteric to it that I still don¡¯t understand. I think it might have to do with the nature of adamantium itself as a metal that grows based on plans and plots and direction. Like¡­ I think I figured out why adamantium is so strong. Like, actually figured it out. Still haven¡¯t been able to do much with that, but¡­ It¡¯s only Power Level 79, yeah? But the highest ranks of kaiju end up at Power Level 95. So there¡¯s a disconnect there. A big one.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Eliot picked up what Mark was putting down, saying, ¡°PL 79 can barely injure PL 95 in a direct contest, and kaiju are pretty much PL 95 across the board. Little bit less in everything outside of Body, but not much less. So how does adamantium even work against a body so much higher than itself?¡±

    ¡°Right! So there¡¯s a lot to adamantium. The metal is an Arch, Body, and Shaper-type of magic made real, so it can injure across multiple aspects of Power Level. That accounts for some of its cutting power. But the majority of its power comes from adamantium being purpose made real. Adamantium is condensed ¡®purpose mana¡¯, for lack of a better word. And directed power, applied well, will always overcome indirect defenses. When in the hands of a brawny that can wield it, then adamantium can be empowered just that much more.¡±

    Eliot laid back and looked at the ceiling of his bunk, listening. He said, ¡°Sounds about right.¡± And then he looked at Mark. ¡°Good luck with all of that. I¡¯m rooting for you!¡±

    Mark chuckled. And then he said, ¡°From what Tulo said, and from what I found, Mithril is solidified grace, which accounts for its ability to become anything and lends well toward weaponry but also armor, especially. Orichalcum is¡­ I have no idea what orichalcum is. Maybe solidified faith? I heard Tulo talk about orichalcum blooded being the ¡®Speakers of the True Gods¡¯, whatever that means. Never heard that before today. Didn¡¯t know that there were other people outside of the 3 empires of Daihoon, either. Tulo is some islander person? Is he from, like¡­ an exiled people?¡±

    ¡°Maybe! They call themselves the People. Other people call them the Water People. They have the largest concentration of orichalcum blooded people on Daihoon, and I think they trace themselves to some forgotten empire from ancient history, but there¡¯s a problem with all of that. None of what they believe about the world and various histories of the world correspond to what the rest of the world believes about history. It¡¯s a whole big thing. Complicated, and I haven¡¯t gotten into it at all with Tulo, but only because he refused to talk about it when I questioned him about certain facts, like the arrival of the Sideways Land and what that meant for the dispersal of the Water People.¡± Eliot¡¯s voice turned conspiratorial as he said, ¡°I want to know what he¡¯s hiding.¡±

    Mark easily said, ¡°Well I got no idea about that stuff.¡±

    Eliot chuckled.

    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t tell you anything at all? Was he afraid you were going to make a video on him?¡±

    Eliot scoffed, mocking offense. ¡°Me? Tell other people¡¯s stories without their consent? Never!¡± He dropped his voice again, ¡°But I still want to know what is happening for my own knowledge.¡±

    Mark smiled at that. ¡°After I die saving someone¡¯s life, when you tell my story to the world, be sure to make me look cool.¡±

    ¡°Nope! I¡¯ll make you look like an idiot so you better not die and do a lot of cool things!¡±

    Mark laughed again.

    ¡°You know that stupid-guy villain persona?¡± Eliot slapped one hand against the other and then turned on the screen in the room. He wrote on the screen in big cartoon print, as he said, ¡°Blundervein! The story of Mark Careed, lovable dumb villain!¡±

    Mark saw himself slip on a banana peel and grab a big lollipop out of a baby¡¯s hand on the way down, and he started laughing a really good, deep laugh. Eliot grinned, and then he started teasing, talking about how Mark could really play up the dumb-guy angle, and Mark protested a whole bunch. The conversation meandered, as it did with friends.

    Soon, Eliot turned in to sleep, and Mark went back to practicing creating crystallized adamantium.

    Maybe he couldn¡¯t Tactile Telekinesis his adamantium, making it as strong as someone with a 95 in Body, but Mark¡¯s own 90 in Adamantiumkinesis was certainly strong enough to get most jobs done. In fact, he hadn¡¯t run into a single opposed force that had given him trouble¡­

    Of course, he was always weakening things with Union as he killed them, though, so that had to skew the results a lot¡­ possibly too much.

    ¡°Actually¡­¡± Mark said to himself, in the dark of the room, with Eliot¡¯s blinds closed while he quietly watched more Shaping videos on his phone, ¡°I have no idea how adamantium weapons work in the hands of another. Could I¡­ do some tests?¡±

    ¡­ Well.

    Mark had around 3200 grams of the stuff now.

    He could make a sword of the stuff. Maybe.

    Mark flicked through some weight calculations for a normal sword versus a sword made of adamantium, and found out that a normal sword was about 750-800 grams, which was pretty normal. Mark knew that measurement, but he had to check. That meant, according to the weight of steel at about 8 grams per cubic centimeter, a normal sword was about 100 cubic centimeters of steel.

    100 cubic centimeters of adamantium was around 2300 grams, so about two-thirds of what Mark had on him right now.

    Mark divvied up his adamantium and then Shaped it to a good sword shape, and found that his calculations were correct; it took him 2300 grams to make a good sword. Holding the weapon by its haft, and looking down the blade, Mark spent the next ten minutes straightening the weapon, balancing the blade, and then making the grip feel better. More secure¡ª

    Isoko opened the door and strode in, whispering, ¡°Hello~¡±

    Isoko seemed really tired.

    Sally was already yawning.

    Mark leaned out. ¡°Good movie?¡±

    Isoko waggled her hand, as she said, ¡°Meh.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°It was in Xerk.¡±

    ¡°Subtitles are fine,¡± Isoko complained, as she began stripping out of her chainmail. ¡°But I know enough to know that what was written was not what was said.¡±

    ¡°The jokes were so much better in the native language,¡± Sally said. And then she pointed at Mark¡¯s floating sword. ¡°You making swords, now?¡±

    Isoko crashed on her bed, underneath Eliot¡¯s bunk, saying, ¡°I would prefer a longer sword.¡±

    Sally scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s too much money for either of us to be walking around with, anyway.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get your swords later.¡± Mark floated the sword into the air, and then he floated out a bar of adamantium, just a plain, 6 inches long and finger-thickness. He hopped off of his bed next, saying, ¡°But I¡¯m glad you two showed up! It occurs to me that I have no idea how adamantium works in the hands of others. I was going to strike the bar myself, to see what happened, but if one of you wants to take the sword and attack the bar, then that would be useful to know, too. So? Want to give it a swing?¡±

    Both of them looked at Mark weirdly.

    And then Sally laughed. She shook her head and crawled into her bed, underneath Mark¡¯s bunk, still wearing her leathers.

    Isoko pulled her covers over herself, saying, ¡°It¡¯s late and Eliot is sleeping, and that¡¯s going to make a lot of noise, hitting metal on metal.¡±

    Mark was too hyped up to sleep, though, which was a continual problem that only seemed to be getting worse as he got stronger. Mark said, ¡°Okay... Then I¡¯ll be back! Sleep well.¡±

    Sally and Isoko grumbled with acknowledgment.

    Mark went out the door with his sword floating behind his back. He wasn¡¯t sure where he was going to go, but the ship never slept. The hallways were empty and softly lit for night. The night guard was active. A whole different group of people, really¡ª

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said to himself, as he pulled Quark out of his pocket. ¡°Can I get that meeting with Reeni Thumb, now? The ARM lady?¡±

    Like¡­ if she was awake, then yeah. Mark could go for a meeting right now.

    Quark flickered silver, a ripple of light expanding on the screen, thinking. A moment later he said, ¡°Agriculture and Resource Management accepts your request for a meeting.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Well¡­ Didn¡¯t expect that. I¡¯ll take it, though.¡±

 140

    ¡°You want meat in your food?¡± asked a very enthusiastic, very short woman, named Reeni Thumb. ¡°We want meat, too! Fish and cows and even bugs!¡± She rapidly digressed, ¡°Bugs in a protein paste. Not just bugs on a plate. Not many people like the crunch of a normal cricket, and I agree with them.¡±

    Mark had walked down to cargo 4, where Agriculture and Resource Management was located, and found himself among lights and greenery and so, so many trees, all packaged away with most of their limbs chopped off and their roots collected into balls. The walls were layered with little seedlings in plastic rows, and the air smelled of cow shit and hay.

    One side of the cargo had plants everywhere, while the other side had a small farm with pigs and goats taking up three floors, and chickens taking up more space to the side. A massive housing project of locusts, or maybe just crickets, took up another big area.

    And then there was a giant water tank, clear on two sides, where fish swam in water like silver glitter. It could also have been a collection of 8 tanks. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    People tended to all of it, all the time. Some people rushed back and forth from one area to the next, complaining of how the oranges were failing containment and how the water tank was cracking again.

    And yeah, there were cracks in that tank. Mark had looked over to the tank, and watched as water spurted out of a crack on the edge.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Mark had whispered to himself.

    Someone was already running a finger over the cracks in the tank, sealing them up with some Skill.

    That was when a very short, pudgy woman with bright auburn hair and a delightful face found Mark. She had run out from somewhere, from some aisle of orange trees, and introduced herself as Reeni Thumb. Mark hadn¡¯t even gotten to introduce himself before she had gotten to the part about adding more meat to the farms.

    Mark began with, ¡°I can see you¡¯re, uh, extremely busy, too.¡±

    ¡°I am I am! But no bother. There¡¯s always something to do. So if you want to help with meat production¡ª You come from a family of fishers, yeah? How about you come around the fish farm at the settlement every day for an hour in the morning and evening, or maybe just ten minutes or however long it takes you, and you feed the fish with sustenance? Once we get set up, of course. Anyone who works on the farm gets first pick of the food that we give out to everyone else. If you want to do the Union with the fish, I¡¯ll get you to the front of the line.¡± Reeni added, ¡°I won¡¯t be looking over your work or making sure you come in and do it, though. Your work will simply be checked. If you¡¯re not actually helping then you¡¯re back of the line like everyone else.¡±

    Mark had no trouble at all saying, ¡°Deal.¡±

    Reeni grinned, and it was like the sun was shining. ¡°Excellent! See you around, Mark!¡±

    She started walking away¡ª

    Mark called out, ¡°Nice to meet you, Reeni!¡±

    Reeni waved behind herself as she vanished into the trees, her voice coming from everywhere, briefly, ¡°Nice to meet you, Mark!¡±

    And then she was gone, her vector transformed into a diffuse thing that recollected by the fish tank. She was already talking to the guy working on keeping the tank from cracking, patting her hands on the tank while the guy ran his fingers along the healing cracks. The cracks healed a lot faster and the panicking guy relaxed. A lot of people relaxed.

    And then one of the goats started bleating extra loud. One of the pigs was tearing through the enclosure to try and eat one of the goats.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Mark whispered to himself.

    And then Reeni was there in the pig pen and the tiny woman, all of 4-foot-6, was successfully pulling the thousand-pound pig out of the wall where it was trying to enter the goat pen. The wall closed over under the ministrations of the crack-healer guy, and Mark kinda wondered if he should help right now. But the pig snapped at Reeni and Reeni slapped its snout. The pig recoiled, whined, and went to lay in the straw. All of the other pigs tried to get closer to Reeni, though, snorting playfully and easily accepting head pats.

    Reeni was handling it.

    And then Reeni was standing in front of Mark.

    ¡°HOLY fu¡­ Uh.¡± Mark looked down at Reeni. ¡°Hello?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to stay. We got it under control.¡±

    Mark realized that Reeni was being polite, and that she was ordering him to leave.

    Mark bowed and then turned around and walked away.

    As he walked up the cargo hall stairs, Mark smiled a little. That had been the fastest, most productive meeting he had had, so far. ¡®You want to help? Here is how you can help. Later. You go away for now.¡¯ Mark chuckled.

    And he still had a sword to test out!

    - - - -

    There was no real space for Power testing or experimentation upon Grey Whale, but there were a few spots for small-scale activation. The ship was a cruiser meant to hold, protect, and keep entertained, thousands of people for multiple weeks. As many as 20 days, normally, 60 days, if they had to, and, if they went to truly low power mode, indefinitely. All ships of this magnitude were like that since they could be arks if they had to be arks. They could just hang out in the sky, invisible and unmoving, for years.

    But with dozens of people capable of fighting kaiju on board, there was no low power mode here.

    The gym on the third floor, right side, was open to the sky on the right, the ¡®black¡¯ of a normal Daihoon night illuminated with auroras as far as the eyes could see. The gym was fully lit, with a platform extending out into the space beyond, where fliers could depart and enter at their whims. The flying platform was twice again the size of the gym itself.

    Bulky brawnies slammed out reps on the bench machines and squatted at the leg presses, while less muscularly-inclined people pedaled hard on stationary bikes while a fitness coach blared at them in time to the music. There was a whole row of treadmills. Maybe 20 of them.

    Mark was in webweave and common clothes, like normal, but he almost wanted to get on a machine anyway. He didn¡¯t get on a machine. He was here to head to the ¡®easy sparring¡¯ area, where he could swing his adamantium blade through a bar of the same, and test how it worked. It wasn¡¯t an ideal situation, but it would serve, and his team could go on sleeping in their room.

    The fliers caught his attention, though.

    It was easy to see why Isoko was so bent on flying magics.

    Five people, three in webweave and two in armor, flew in the sky, keeping speed with the ship. According to a readout on the exit to the platform, the ship was traveling at 70 kilometers per hour, but the wind was coming from the north, adding another 20 kilometers per hour to the speed that a flier would have to fly to keep up. One of the high fliers looked completely at ease, like he was merely there on a stroll. He was scrolling through his phone as he flew, occasionally glancing out to look at the rest of the people, but rapidly returning to his phone. Two of the fliers were breathing hard, to keep speed with the ship. The other two were all barely keeping up, slowly falling behind on the race through the sky, to keep up with the platform underfoot, with the ship.

    Those five people were doing pretty much fine. They were real fliers. Mark guessed that the most prominent guy was some sort of Sky Shaper, or a big wind shaper, because his hair was perfectly fine and his clothes weren¡¯t ruffling at all. Two of the other ones might have been the same, but their clothes ruffled some, so their control wasn¡¯t the best. Mark had no idea what the last two were. Maybe some sort of True Flier? Telekinetic flight? No idea. The options were too varied to suss out what he was seeing. The strongest flier looked about 35-ish, but the weaker ones varied from 19 to 30 years old, or somewhere around there.

    Mark didn¡¯t have much luck identifying the Powers of the rest of the attempted fliers, but they were all lesser than those five good fliers.

    At least 12 people were walking forward, against the heavy wind, and then lifting off, just to try and fly at full speed for as long as they could, but their full speed was still a ¡®falling behind speed¡¯, and they all slowly, or very rapidly, slipped out of position, all the way back to the back of the platform. A half tunnel and a net was at the end of the platform, easily catching whoever couldn¡¯t keep up, funneling them back onto the ship, onto what looked like a lower level at the back of the gym.

    One guy was trying to fly with bits of silver metal, and Mark was instantly jealous when he saw the guy make silver wings and a very quickly spinning propeller. That prop spun faster than Mark could spin anything. The mithrilkinetic ¡ªbecause that¡¯s what he had to be¡ª had obviously broken himself of his kinetic limitations, allowing him to move his stuff faster than physically possible¡ª

    Mithrilkinetic guy instantly flopped down and then rapidly upward, into the sky¡ª

    Phone-reader guy zipped upward and grabbed the man, and then gently put him back on the platform while scolding him, the words lost to the air. The guy complained, but the phone-reader guy, who was obviously the big safety net for the flying platform, just shut the guy down harder, his voice rising above the wind, only briefly.

    ¡°Get the FUCK off of my platform!¡±

    Metal guy scowled and walked off of the platform, the wind whipping at him the whole time. He probably would have flown away under normal circumstances, but Mark caught how he used bits of silver metal to grab onto holds on the ground here and there, to keep himself standing as tall as he could.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He walked right past Mark, glaring at nothing and everything on the way out.

    ¡­ Mark wanted to go out there just to see what he could do, but¡­ Uh. Nope!

    There were lots of different types of fliers, from high grade that could practically ignore physics while flying, like how speedsters could ignore air friction to a great extent, to lower level fliers, who could only fly as fast as they ran, or slower, and who were fully subjected to physics and winds. That wind out there mercilessly tore across the platform, and not everyone could handle it at all, but a lot of people were trying. Mithrilkinetic-guy couldn¡¯t handle the wind at all. He didn¡¯t really count as a ¡®flier¡¯, either.

    Mark also didn¡¯t count as a flier. If he went out there on that platform, beyond the signs that read in big letters ¡®Caution! Open air!¡¯ and in smaller letters ¡®If you fall, we will catch you and ban you from being out here¡¯, Mark would absolutely end up flopping into the sky and need to be rescued.

    ¡­ That didn¡¯t stop Mark from watching, though.

    Fliers out on the uncovered platform lifted off of the ground, unsure if they could move as fast as the ship, and some of them couldn¡¯t. They slapped back onto the ground, some lightly and laughing, or heavy and getting a warning from the instructor guy. Some guys got really fucking angry that they couldn¡¯t fly as fast as some other people. But they kept trying.

    ¡°Some day,¡± Mark told himself.

    And then he went to the sparring hallway.

    The sparring rooms had no doors; they were just alcoves down a hallway, each room only about 4 meters square and 3 meters tall. Big signs warned against getting too rough. Some guys and girls were punching and kicking the shit out of each other, or just lightly practice-fighting. Most of the rooms were powered on, with the silence enchantments working and the sounds of grunts and punches mostly subdued. It still sounded like a hallway full of fights, but not very loud fights. Not as loud as they actually were¡ª

    ¡°No weapons,¡± said a bored-looking crewman sitting behind a desk. It was Carl, the crewman with the Bombardier Skill. He hadn¡¯t even looked up at Mark; he was too focused on watching his phone. Carl just pointed at a sign overhead that read the same as what he said, ¡°No weapons!¡±

    ¡°Hey, Carl. I¡¯m here to do a weapons test. I won¡¯t make a problem. Just some noise.¡±

    At hearing his name, Carl looked up and looked at Mark. His bored expression rapidly transformed as he recognized Mark. Carl grinned. ¡°Oh hey! I didn¡¯t even see you. The sensors just picked up a wea¡­ Holy fucking shit. Is that sword what I think it is?¡±

    Some people had recognized the weapon floating at Mark¡¯s back, too.

    Mark floated his sword to his hand. ¡°Just a hollow experiment.¡± It was not hollow at all. ¡°I want to test how it cuts under certain circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Well if that¡¯s all. Sure. Take a room¡ª¡± Carl looked at something behind the desk. ¡°Room 8 is open.¡±

    Mark nodded and went to Room 8.

    Once he was behind the silencing enchantments and the world beyond was slightly muffled to maybe 50%, Mark held his sword in his hands, without his Kinesis at all, while he used his Kinesis to hold a finger-thick rod of metal in front of him. With some supportive-lock-down-adamantium bits scattered around the room, Mark was pretty sure that he was holding the bar rather solid. Just by the edges, though. Mark kept the center of the rod outside of his Kinesis.

    Only holding the sword with his own hands, and not really sure what he was trying to do at all except test adamantium against adamantium, Mark swung the sword at the rod.

    The impossibly hard sword struck the impossibly hard rod, and Mark flinched. Vibrations thrummed through his hands and arms. The rod dipped down because Mark couldn¡¯t hold that solid enough, either, or maybe that dipping had been a secondary flinch.

    It might have been a secondary flinch; Mark still wasn¡¯t able to divorce his astral body reactions from his physical body limitations and bonuses.

    He inspected both weapon and rod damage, and found¡­ no damage at all.

    Mark spent the next ten minutes learning how to brace himself in different ways to try and strike the rod with the sword and not have the rod slip away, or the sword practically vibrate his hands off. Shoving that crystal spike through that soft disk had been easy by comparison, and Mark wasn¡¯t sure why. It wasn¡¯t till another five minutes and 25-ish strikes later, that Mark decided his whole methodology to figure out the usefulness of adamantium versus adamantium was flawed in some big way. The sword was fine; no dents in the blade. The rod was fine; no nicks at all.

    And that didn¡¯t seem right.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure why it wasn¡¯t right, but he also felt¡­ like he was nearing in on something.

    Something important.

    Mark decided to use his Kinesis on the sword, while leaving the rod supported, but not in the center, where he would strike. With a lift and a swish and a very large THOCK! Mark huffed, and then looked at what he had done.

    The sword was buried about half a centimeter into the adamantium rod.

    ¡­ Hmm. Maybe Mark had been holding on to the whole sword, and that Kinesis had transferred into the untouched part of the rod? Thus softening the rod enough to be damaged?

    Several tests later and Mark had refined his Kinesis enough so that he was only holding on to the center of the blade. This time, when he struck the rod, the sword only nicked the rod. It wasn¡¯t nearly as pronounced of an effect as when Mark Kinetically held the entire blade, but it was still an effect.

    Next, Mark held the sword by just its hilt and struck the rod, and that time the rod wasn¡¯t nicked at all.

    Mark was pretty sure he was doing something with his Adamantiumkinesis that was sort of like Tactile Telekinesis.

    When he held the adamantium in his Shaping control, close to the point of impact, the adamantium was empowered by his astral body, which was in the early 90s right now. When he held the adamantium by the edges, the unheld parts were not empowered, and thus they were just a normal, PL 79 material. Still the hardest metal known to man, but still not as strong as something with a soul behind it¡­ Maybe.

    Plain adamantium against adamantium and it was an unbreakable sword against an unbreakable shield; they bounced off of each other.

    It was the astral body that did the heavy lifting.

    That made sense! This was good to know.

    ¡­ But that wasn¡¯t the full story. Metal versus flesh versus bone versus high Power Level versus low Power Level; everything was more complicated than just a straight-up toughness comparison¡­

    Mark held the sword and imagined it sharper¡­ And what did that accomplish? Mark had no idea. He wasn¡¯t actually putting power into the weapon, was it? Crystallizing it, or something? No. He couldn¡¯t do much more than throw imaginations around without remaking the sword entirely. And yet, maybe he didn¡¯t have to remake it at all? He knew that adamantium crafters used ¡®various processes¡¯ to ¡®fix¡¯ adamantium, to make it stronger as a cutting implement, but he wasn¡¯t sure how they did that, exactly. The videos had been helpful, but not helpful enough.

    Forging with heat and hammers or even turning adamantium to liquid with high-rank Fire Shaper or Heat Manipulation powers, and then breaking out the hammer again to hammer away at the black; that¡¯s what a weaponsmith usually did to forge adamantium. And then there were mana-filled quenching techniques for hardening metal or turning metal more ductile or flexible, but with cutting edges made of harder metal than normal. A lot of common steel forging was useful for forging adamantium, but adamantium was literally solid mana, and that meant¡­

    ¡°Well that means I need to go to the Artificer¡¯s Guild for proper instruction, right? They¡¯re the ones that do magical item creation, don¡¯t they?¡±

    Mark paused.

    ¡°¡­ So why does the Builder¡¯s Guild make weapons?¡±

    Or rather, why does Tulo Khava make weapons? Is it because he¡¯s an Armsmith? Maybe so.

    Mark had more questions than he had answers.

    Looking at the sword in his hands, Mark knew he had a long way to go. There was a technique to creating hardened adamantium, as per the crystal spike that Mark had made earlier, but he had not managed to do that with this sword, at all. It was straight enough, and the material was solid enough, and Mark knew enough about weapons to know that he had made a rather decent tool¡­ But this was not a mastercraft. Mark was sure that if someone with an actual Talent for weapons, like an Armsmith, like Tulo, or even just a knack for Sharpening, like that one lady who Sharpened weapons by the Northeast Rivergate of Memphi¡­ Someone like that could do a lot more with this weapon. Mark had no real skill in this area at all.

    Sure, he could string together adamantium into a blade well enough to get the job done, but there was a clear difference in a kaiju blade versus normal adamantium, Shaped into a weapon.

    Mark kinda wanted to go visit Tulo again, to ask him about worked adamantium versus freeform adamantium, but Tulo was probably asleep. Tulo had offered to help with crystallization techniques, though, so Mark would go to him later. But until then, there was another option. The Anti-Kaiju Team.

    ¡°They probably know all about weapons.¡±

 141

    ¡°I know all about weapons,¡± said Kandon Valen, Second in Command of the settlement project. ¡°If you can¡¯t identify a good weapon from one that just looks good, then you¡¯re a dead man when Skill meets monster. But I know how to use them more than how to make them.¡±

    Mark had entered the Anti-Kaiju Team headquarters on Grey Whale and found himself facing not many people at all. A few night guard men and women watched over screens and checked flight plans that were a match for the screens on the floor above, on the bridge, but the people down here were all bored waiting for orders that the people above hoped to never give. The only way to truly win against a kaiju was to never fight one, after all.

    Mark ended up easily meeting Kandon, for maybe the second time, he wasn¡¯t sure, and the guy was wearing plain green army clothes. No armor in sight. The guy was currently sitting down and watching a big screen that was connected to an even bigger radar system, surveying the lay of the land. Other people around the room were looking at smaller screens, or sitting around and chatting, or reading books on their phones, or actual paper books.

    Kandon was just watching the screens.

    He struck Mark as a man who never stopped working, which Mark really appreciated.

    Kandon was a dual-Skill, like General Aurora, his sister, but with True Brawny and Telekinesis, instead of Aurora¡¯s Supreme Telekinesis and Telepathy. In a weird sort of way, Mark recognized that he was a male mirror of Aurora, but with muscles and size and looking a lot more like a standard brawny of some sort. Kandon¡¯s True Brawny had an innate Tactile Telekinesis, though, so to have the Skill for Telekinesis on top of that¡­ Mark was kinda wondering how that worked, exactly. Did it work well?

    It must have worked well, because Kandon was a kaiju killer, focused on the job.

    Or at least he would have been focused, if Mark hadn¡¯t been here.

    Kandon had been eyeing Mark¡¯s sword, floating at his back, from the moment Mark had walked into view. The guy was trying not to be super excited at what he was seeing, and he was doing a very good job of that. The people in the hallways and even exiting the gym had been terrible about letting their greed show.

    But for Kandon, his greed was different. He was the commander of the armed forces, and a kaiju killer in his own right. His greed seemed tinged with hope.

    Mark had no trouble at all holding out his sword to Kandon and asking, ¡°How well is this created? Does it feel weird in your TT grip?¡±

    Kandon flubbed his words for a moment, sputtering, ¡°Uh, well. M¡ª¡± He coughed and straightened himself and stood up from his viewing chair and held out a hand, palm up, saying, ¡°I guess I can take a loO¡ª¡± His voice did something weird that he cut off before it could go too far. ¡°I¡¯ll take a look.¡±

    Mark placed the weapon in his hand.

    Kandon¡¯s vector had been focused on the sword, and on Mark, like a radiance hiding behind clouds, not wanting to make itself known. His face had been much the same. But now the sword was in his hands and the sun shone. Mark was ignored. Kandon held the sword in his grip, and there was a certain clarity to his visage and his vector that reminded Mark of someone in the middle of a triumph.

    He slowly, casually, cut the air with the sword, just a bit. He lifted the blade. He balanced the blade, and his triumph turned calculated. With narrowed eyes, Kandon scrunched his lips as he looked down the length of the blade and then ran his finger across the sharp edge. There was blood, but Kandon didn¡¯t seem to care about the injury; it was little more than a paper cut.

    And then Kandon focused and ran his finger across the blade. He was cut again, and this time he showed surprise.

    He focused a third time and cut his finger a third time, and went, ¡°Huh.¡±

    Kandon held the sword, and really looked at it¡­ And then he reluctantly looked at Mark. He did not want to give it to Mark. He wanted to keep it. But he breathed in deep and handed the sword back, anyway, saying, ¡°It¡¯s a good blade. Could be better, but not much better.¡±

    Mark let his surprise show as he floated the sword back onto his back, asking, ¡°It¡¯s good? I thought it was shit for forging.¡±

    Kandon almost said something, but he cut himself off, and then he paused. He sort of stared at Mark, like he was unable to form a proper sentence for lack of direction, or end goal, or understanding of what sort of thing was happening in front of him right now.

    ¡°It is¡­ actually well forged.¡± Kandon said, and then he blinked and went in a completely different direction, saying, ¡°Armsmaster Tulo told me that you submitted a kaiju blade design. I look forward to using that curved blade. Everyone makes straight ones but those just don¡¯t cut that well. I think¡­ I think you have a rather unique situation happening. I¡¯ll send you an information packet on turning adamantium crystal¡ª Do you know about crystallized biometals?¡±

    ¡°Only what I managed to find on the open internet. Tulo promised to teach me more once I did some experiments on my own.¡±

    Kandon nodded. ¡°Short story: biometals need to be seeded with direction to turn ¡®forged¡¯. That is how an Armsmith or other manipulator turns biometals into weapons.¡±

    Mark nodded, Kandon¡¯s words matching what Mark had already read. But Mark had a specific question, though. He asked, ¡°Your Tactile Telekinesis slips into the metal and imposes your own direction onto the edge, yes? Does it help to have the directions of the metal¡­ going the same way? As your TT? Is your TT forging the metal itself, as you use it? Is my own Adamantiumkinesis enough to actually make a forged blade, if I do it right?¡± At Kandon¡¯s unsure look, Mark added, ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m actually saying. If I knew what I was saying I could explain it better.¡±

    Kandon said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure about all of that, but I do know that your current version of a blade is already mostly forged. Did you spend a lot of time on that sword? Or did you just shape it on a whim?¡±

    ¡°I spent maybe 20 minutes on this. Normally I only spend 2 seconds on a Shaping.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yeah. Sounds right. That¡¯s why it cut me. It¡¯s surprising, you know?¡± Kandon held up his hand, with the three cuts on his thumb, saying, ¡°Usually I can resist normal adamantium, but you made that one strong enough to injure me even when I¡¯m focused, so I expect great things from you when you¡¯re finally out here killing kaiju yourself, Mark.¡±

    Mark felt a whole lot good at that simple commendation. ¡°Thank you, Kandon.¡±

    Kandon grinned a little. ¡°Part of forging a weapon out of biometal is simply imposing your astral body onto the metals over a long time, in a specific shape or direction, and the metal gradually forges in those directions. I think you¡¯re already good with forging, especially if you spend a modicum of time on the weapon itself, turning it from adamantium into an actual weapon, but there is always room to grow. In particular¡­ Do you know some mithril blades grow with the wielder?¡±

    ¡°I did not know that!¡± Mark had a bunch of rapid ideas¡ª

    Kandon shorted those ideas, saying, ¡°The effect isn¡¯t that pronounced, and it¡¯s not always the case. Perhaps forging techniques mean something to make a mithril blade grow, but I do know that once a blade grows with a person, if that person should die the mithril needs to be melted down completely to be used for something else. But sometimes, some people can wield very powerful, highly enchanted mithril blades, but only if they are capable of wielding them.¡± With reverence, Kandon added, ¡°The Swords of Empire; that¡¯s one name for them.¡±

    The way Kandon spoke of swords made him seem enamored with the idea of a very powerful sword. Mark could mostly understand that. Most of the stories Mark had ever seen were about magical swords. Magical swords were a Big Deal.

    Mark preferred spears.

    ¡°I will have to look up ¡®Swords of Empire¡¯ later,¡± Mark said.

    Kandon grinned. ¡°Have you checked out the blade in a scanner? How about yourself?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t in a while, but I know my spread is mostly maxed. I submitted it in the paperwork.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get a scan of both of you,¡± Kandon said, gesturing toward a door to the side that read ¡®SCANNER¡¯ over the bulkhead. ¡°If your sword is scanned at higher than 79, then we know it¡¯s been forged some.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyebrows went up. ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t know that!¡±

    Soon, Mark found himself stepping into a machine set into the wall that was like the scanners at Citadel; compact and simple. Lights came on, illuminating the dark, and then the dark pulsed with light.

    The light faded to numbers.

    Body, Healthy Body: 062

    Shaper, Adamantium: 090

    Mind: 79

    Natural, Union: 091

    Soul: 67

    Arch: 49

    Estimated astral body strength: 95%

    Most of the numbers were things Mark had seen before, but Mark quirked an eyebrow at the Healthy Body number. It was 3 points higher than two weeks ago, which was the last time Mark had checked out a Scanner. That was a lot of growth.

    Mark stepped out of the machine. ¡°Sword next?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hold for a moment.¡± Kandon asked him, ¡°Your Healthy Body is tier 6 now; 3 PL higher than your submitted paperwork. Which is strange for multiple reasons. Healthy Body usually stops at PL 25. Are you experiencing any strange strength symptoms? Or weirdness? Perhaps a speed modifier?¡±

    Mark reoriented. ¡°I can¡¯t sleep for shit these days. I have to put myself to sleep. That¡¯s why I¡¯m awake right now.¡±

    Kandon nodded, knowingly. ¡°Not a big deal unless it bothers you. Does it bother you?¡±

    ¡°Not really¡­ So this is common? With Body Skills that get too large?¡±

    ¡°Skills are so much larger than how Malaqua defines them. What is ¡®common¡¯ and what is ¡®known¡¯ are vastly different than what any skiller would have you believe.¡± Kandon added, ¡°That said¡­ Brawnies are truly common on Earth, and so are buffing spells from Freyala¡¯s Union to Hearthswell¡¯s Castellan to more nuanced options. So a Healthy Body at 60+ isn¡¯t unheard of, and it¡¯s nothing to be worried about. People can get buffed to 94 in Body all the time, if they have to be rescued from a truly dangerous situation, and fast. What you¡¯re experiencing probably has something to do with your Adamantiumkinesis and Union working together, but I don¡¯t know about that. I¡¯m no skiller.¡±

    ¡®Or it could be due to your adamantium blood¡¯ went unsaid, but Mark could tell that Kandon meant that, too.

    So Aurora told him? Well sure. That was fine.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Mark focused on something else in what Kandon had said, though. ¡°What¡¯s a ¡®skiller¡¯?¡±

    ¡°A Skill-worker. A very specialized mage that can manipulate the Skill a person has. There¡¯s only a few hundred of them in the Empire. They can redefine Skills in small ways.¡±

    Mark¡¯s mind rapidly went from amazed, to worried, because he knew of one large historical figure that worked with Skills directly¡­ Well. Two big historical figures. One of those figures, Malaqua, had fixed Mark up with Healthy Body, Adamantiumkinesis, and Union. But the other big figure was Thrashtalon, the Betrayer, the Wild God.

    Mark had no idea what to say or to think about the entire idea that there were professional Skill adjusters and also the Wild God who both did the same thing.

    So Mark just nodded, and said, ¡°Okay. Did not know that.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing inherently dangerous about having a Skill that is overcapped, especially if the Skill is still as low as the 60s. Getting from 95 to 99 and then again from 99 to 100 is about the same as getting from 0 to 94. There are qualitative thresholds that a person has to pass, including whole different, deeper ways to use a Skill, that need to be understood and passed before you can get that far.¡± Kandon said, ¡°Each threshold is like going from not having a Skill, to having a fully-developed Skill. Some people can kill kaiju with a base, PL 94 Skill. That¡¯s most of our people. Some people, and like how I think you are, Mark, need to cross some thresholds, first.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Huh,¡± Mark said.

    Kandon smiled a little. ¡°I think you¡¯re getting near one of those thresholds, and soon¡­ But for now! Stick the sword into the scanner!¡±

    Oh yeah!

    Mark put the sword into the scanner room, flat onto the floor, and then closed the door. Ten seconds later a readout appeared on a screen beside the door. PL 80.

    Kandon went, ¡°A little bit forged, then. Pretty talented!¡±

    Mark smiled a little and then got his sword back.

    Kandon rapidly went to the next topic, which Mark supposed was what Kandon had wanted to do since he saw Mark, based on the man¡¯s vector. ¡°Say? You like to spar, yes?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have a private gym for those of us on the kaiju squad. Sam Ranger is leading all of that, so you should make a point to check in with him when we get settled into location. Other than that, you¡¯re welcome to hang out here and meet people. Want to stick around?¡± Kandon added, ¡°And can I, uh, use the sword a little bit? I want to cut up some stuff in a test room. I¡¯ll give it back, of course!¡±

    ¡­ Mark had been hoping for a spar, but¡­ Well.

    Mark felt unbalanced that his nominal commander, one step up the chain of command, was asking to use his sword like and acting like some sort of¡­ big brother, or something. But it was nice. Mark expected more orders and less requests, though. But maybe Kandon was just like his sister in most ways, and wasn''t that nice.

    Mark rolled with it. ¡°Sure! If I can watch. I wanted to make weapons for my team but they all went to bed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll buy a sword when I can, Mark,¡± Kandon said, strongly. ¡°And if the metal for it comes from Addavein, then I really don¡¯t care. I just can¡¯t pay you for it.¡±

    Mark stood suddenly straight. Maybe he didn¡¯t know Mark was adamantium blooded¡­ which was fine?

    Kandon raised an eyebrow as he saw Mark flinch. He almost said something about Addavein, or whoever¡ª

    But Mark handed over the sword, avoiding further conversation about all of that, lying-by-omission, ¡°Sure.¡±

    Kandon was like a baller that had just gotten the football; he brightened and focused and then told the room, ¡°I¡¯ll be back in 30 minutes! Alert me if the kaijus move our way at all.¡±

    Some guy at the controls, who was reading something off of his phone, spoke up without looking up, ¡°Sure thing, boss!¡±

    Kandon giggled a little as he ran toward a winding staircase leading up.

    ¡­ Mark followed, he supposed. Kandon seemed in his own world right now.

    - - - -

    Mark held on to the roof of Grey Whale with some small caltrops wedged into nooks and edges, wind whipping past him. The world was trying to brush him off of the ship, but Mark was not having it. He was secure, and not that cold. The noise was incredible, but the sight even more so.

    Mark had never seen a martial kaiju killer up close, or rather, from 20 meters away. He had only ever seen those guys and gals on the screen, and they were almost always the Big Damn Hero. Mark wanted to be the Big Damn Hero, too. And this, right here, was why. Mark saw Kandon, a martial-based kaiju killer, practicing under the nightly auroras.

    It was like watching a master at his craft. It was mesmerizing.

    Kandon danced across the roof of the Grey Whale, the black sword, like a fragment of true night, carving the wind as Kandon carved the world with his body. He moved without care of any impediment at all, leaping and twisting and coming down to the roof of Grey Whale in spirals, tumbles, and crashes that did not break anything at all, for his Skills were True Brawny, which was already practically telekinetic, and also Telekinesis. There was no way he would ever get blown away by the wind. The wind was just a good practice zone for him. Kandon was in control.

    Mark only stopped watching when he felt a pair of vectors coming up from the tunnel behind him.

    Mark turned and saw Sam Ranger, Nightbolt, and some other guy who was the flyer Mark had seen at the gym, who had rescued that mithril guy who went flying.

    ¡°Hey Mark!¡± Sam said. ¡°We heard Kandon was practicing with a fancy new sword.¡± He introduced the guy to his side, saying, ¡°This is Lee Windhopper, Sky Shaper.¡±

    Lee nodded. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Sam.¡± Mark nodded to Lee. ¡°Nice to meet you, Lee. I saw you catch some guy who went flying at the gym earlier. You¡¯re fast!¡±

    Lee grinned a little. ¡°I try. Now if you don¡¯t mind!¡± He hefted a golfbag-like container of silver swords that were mirrors of each other. They still looked a little drippy with alchemical silver, perhaps. Lee only had eyes for Kandon, his vector focused. ¡°I have been trying to get that bastard to come out and spar with me for a week now.¡±

    Lee spoke like an old friend to Kandon. Maybe he was? Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Lee took to the air like the air wasn¡¯t a river rushing over them all, and he floated out to see Kandon.

    Sam was there, smiling a little, looking outward, at the spar.

    For a moment, Mark thought that he would end up talking to Sam, but no. That¡¯s not what happened at all. Because Lee spun out several silver swords from his bag of them and Mark ended up watching, enthralled, as Lee danced in the air with weaponry, and with Kandon, who sliced apart sword after silver sword with Mark¡¯s black sword. Lee¡¯s weapon pieces didn¡¯t scatter on the wind, for Lee was in control of the wind now. Those bits of silver swords flashed back to his golf bag, which had to be an artifact of some sort, because the pieces recombined into fresh swords.

    Kandon was having a grand time. Mark heard laughter.

    Lee was having fun, too.

    Both of them were also in the middle of a personal war against each other. Their fight was more than just a spar, except that¡¯s all it really was. Mark imagined that it was Sally and him sparring out there.

    Kandon showed he was in complete control of the fight, though. He started striking at Lee¡¯s broken swords, turning metal into glitter that could not recombine at all.

    Eventually, Lee ran out of swords and reluctantly called it quits.

    That¡¯s when Mark realized he was hanging with the big guys, now. Sam Ranger, Lee the wind guy, and Kandon Valen, all kaiju killers, all people Mark would be supporting in fights, soon enough. Mark offered healing to both of them as they came in from the spar, and Kandon gladly accepted, and Lee reluctantly accepted, but Kandon slapped Lee on the shoulders and the mood improved. Lee didn¡¯t like losing, but neither of them were really going all out, of course.

    ¡°I could totally take you in a real fight,¡± Lee said. ¡°Just lift you off the ground and toss you around for a few hundred kilometers.¡±

    Kandon laughed. ¡°Maybe we can have a real fight in a few years, Lee, after we get to know each other more.¡±

    Lee scoffed.

    Mark realized that they didn¡¯t know each other at all, but they were still just friendly like that.

    Sam suggested a hot meal at the mess hall, and Mark had no problems accepting that offer, and taking his sword back from Kandon.

    ¡°I mean it now!¡± Kandon said, over a bunch of chicken strips and potatoes, ¡°I want to buy one of those off of you, Mark!¡±

    Sam and Lee both laughed, and Mark chuckled along, unsure why they were laughing.

    Sam noticed, and he told Mark, ¡°He can¡¯t buy dragon-adamantium.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be Addavein-derived,¡± Kandon said, gesturing to Mark. ¡°He¡¯s gonna find some other adamantium monsters to harvest. Aren¡¯t you!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Mark said.

    And then Lee asked Kandon, ¡°So how are the allowances for monster hunting routes going to work? I don¡¯t want to get stuck with bitch work. I want the good, money-making monster routes. The goblins and the trolls.¡±

    Kandon hummed. Maybe he would have answered¡ª

    But Mark suddenly asked, ¡°Hunting goblins are the good routes? ¡­ What?¡±

    Sam told Lee, ¡°We should just kill them all and not farm them. You tempt danger, Lee.¡±

    Lee told Mark, ¡°It¡¯s because they gather up all the resources wherever they live. Kill a goblin horde and don¡¯t die, and you can get all the riches of an area without having to actually mine or farm them yourself.¡±

    Mark had a lot of unsure thoughts at that moment. Like, sure, kill all monsters.

    But using monsters for a labor force seemed¡­ beyond-the-Veil dangerous.

    Kandon waved a hand, ¡°We¡¯re not discussing the extermination of competing species, but I do know how we¡¯re allocating expensive, non-sentient monster discoveries, and that starts with how many contribution points you want to spend for first crack at a big monster, versus the danger of the monster...¡±

    The conversation meandered as Mark ate a midnight meal with the big boys.

 142

    Crytalis, the capital of the Aluatha Empire, was located on the same piece of land that, on Earth, was named the Yucatan Peninsula. On Daihoon, they called it the Crying Peninsula. The name was derived from a bunch of historical things that Mark barely grasped, but he did know that the Crying Peninsula had been the seat of many different empires over the last 5000 years, since Earth split from Daihoon.

    The Aluatha Empire was simply the latest in a long line of empires to call this land their homeland.

    Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure why anyone would want to live in a land that was named after the amount of tears that had been shed over that location, but people made homes and then they wanted to defend homes and rebuild, so, in that sort of way, Mark understood. The people of the Crying Peninsula had been shedding tears, sweat, and blood in this location, for a very long time.

    Overall, the land was nothing special. There were some great barrier mountains to the south that separated the Crying Peninsula from the not-Pacific ocean, but there were no other great defensive measures anywhere else. In the late summers, they got hurricanes from not-Africa just like what happened on Earth, but most of the hurricanes, and the kaiju that lived in them, veered north, into not-the-Floridas, passing the Crying Peninsula almost entirely. Sometimes some hurricanes spun up just north of the Crying Peninsula, but those hurricanes mostly went north, too.

    Due to that rather predictable series of kaiju storms that always passed by and kept going, the not-Floridas were a land of desolation on Daihoon; a no-man''s land, usually filled with kaiju.

    Some very powerful archmages and Skilled people did a lot of work to keep the Crying Peninsula free of the largest of horrors, and if those largest of horrors did make it on land, then there were always holes in the ground for the people to crawl into. Cenotes formed the original defensive locations in this land.

    These days, there were a lot more than holes in the ground to protect the people.

    Mark held onto the railing of the noble¡¯s viewing bar of the Grey Whale, watching Crytalis come into view, in the early afternoon. The sky was bright blue with clouds on the horizon, the roof of the world was blue rainbows, and all the land below was inhabited. It was a collection of metropolises, spread over hundreds of kilometers.

    Pyramids of glass and steel and stone rose in the sky like shapely mountains, all across the land of the Empire, while castles and wooden houses and farmland and more small crystal pyramids abounded in all the leftover space. Every single pyramid was what they called an arcology; a city unto itself. Each one was fully capable of both absorbing all of the people in the surrounding areas, and defending itself against almost any kaiju attack.

    Mark wouldn¡¯t get to see the inside of any of them. Not this year, anyway.

    Mark leaned on the railing of the noble¡¯s viewing deck. The wind blew on his face, but mostly stayed outside of the viewing deck, the air pressure of the closed deck and various small magics keeping the wind and the noise to a minimum. Streamers unfurled on long poles on Grey Whale, heralding their arrival to the Empire. The streamers meant something, their orange and yellow and written words full of meaning, but to Mark, they just looked pretty. Fliers flew out in front ¡ªthe guy that Mark had met the other day, Lee, and a few others¡ª in formation, carrying ribbons of their own. Mark watched as Lee¡¯s small group met a group of fliers that came up from below. They spoke, and did some sort of twirl in the air, and Mark knew it was mostly for show, but it was a show that was steeped in tradition that Mark didn¡¯t fully know, but which had to do with checking people for monsters and other such horrors.

    People in the bridge down below Mark¡¯s feet talked through radios, or some other devices, to bring them into port, while the show of the fliers meeting and then parting peacefully was a big cultural thing. Mark didn¡¯t pay too much attention to all of that, though.

    Mark was busy looking at all of the things down there.

    Crytalis had a lot to see.

    City walls cordoned off every giant pyramid and their surrounding lands, while leaving miles of thick woodland between the ¡®islands¡¯ of cities, with their individual walls. Layered holes in the ground here and there looked like the interiors of multi-level hotels. And then there were the open slums, which were hard to miss and a real bummer, actually. Mark hadn¡¯t expected to see slums, which was weird. He had thought that the Empire was better than that. They were giant apartments that looked half-defensible, but mostly like death traps. Mark was absolutely sure that those people, so far away from the cenotes and the arcologies, would be forced to fend for themselves in a kaiju attack.

    And then there were the wilds between the city walls, and Mark had no idea what to make of them.

    The wilds existed in long ¡®green rivers¡¯ of trees and whatever between the city walls of each arcology because of some sort of treaties between each city state, or something like that.

    Moving on¡­

    There weren¡¯t a whole lot of big skyscrapers, actually. This was surprising, and not that surprising. The airspace of Crytalis was already occupied, after all.

    Giant death crystals floated over every crystal pyramid, and those death crystals needed lines of sight in every direction, so of course they didn¡¯t allow building over certain heights. They looked like black and silver twists in the light, floating over every pyramid of Crytalis, ready to vaporize any monster that would be foolish enough to approach.

    Mark stared at the death crystals and wondered about them¡ª

    Isoko spoke up from Mark¡¯s left, ¡°It¡¯s so much bigger in person.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°Which arcology is your cousins¡¯? Can we see it yet?¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re over in Nook; over there to the northwest, by the Meteor Sea. The Grand Guard is everywhere, though. Those were the flags that the fliers were flying.¡± Isoko gestured to the east, saying, ¡°I probably would have been stationed over there for a few years if you hadn¡¯t come along; somewhere far away from the family. I would have moved over to the Nook after a while. They don¡¯t like people stationed near their family for their first years.¡±

    ¡°Will your family visit us at the settlement?¡±

    ¡°Probably! When we get a real settlement to visit, you know.¡±

    Sally spoke up from Mark¡¯s right, ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take that long, yeah? Not with Eliot here?¡±

    ¡°Maybe a few months?¡± Isoko asked, unsure. ¡°Initial building should only take a day, though. Eliot can build fast.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll know more when the meeting is over,¡± Mark said.

    Eliot was in one of the cargo holds right now where they were putting together a greeting station, or whatever it was they had called it. Eliot had spoken about the ceremony and what was expected of them, but mostly Aurora, and how they would receive the mandate of Aluatha during that meeting, empowering them to break ground on a new settlement in the name of the Empire, but Mark wasn¡¯t a part of all of that, and Eliot didn¡¯t really know what was going to happen, either. What had he called it, again? Some sort of¡­ Oh, yeah.

    ¡°The Expansion Ceremony shouldn¡¯t take too long,¡± Mark said, looking out across the land¡­ ¡°I don¡¯t see the docking tower yet¡­ though I do see other airships.¡±

    Isoko and Sally said nothing as they stared outward. Other conversations mumbled around them, some people talking about how it was annoying that they weren¡¯t allowed out of the ship to see Crytalis in person, and some explaining about pathogens. Talk of contaminants was countered by ¡®We¡¯re not sequestering people who come visit the settlement, but they¡¯re sequestering people here? Not quite fair, in my opinion,¡¯ and other rehashes of the same complaint that Mark had been hearing for the last week of travel.

    Aluatha didn¡¯t like strangers in its land, but they liked being in the lands of others; that was the bottom line.

    Mark brought out Quark and floated him in front, saying, ¡°Where¡¯s the dock, Quark?¡±

    Quark lit up, the phone¡¯s screen turning into an augmented overlay of the land ahead. Mark couldn¡¯t see what was out there directly, but Quark painted lines in the sky, on his little screen, showing air traffic control and, when Mark moved the screen, Quark highlighted small towers here and there, as docking towers. All of those towers were small things, though, with personal hovercraft around them. According to Quark, there were layers of sky reserved for certain travelers, and Grey Whale was at the top layer, at around 1000 meters, for guests flying over and not stopping. From 500 to 1000 meters was general traffic, and that sort of traffic was pretty light today. Mark didn¡¯t see many ships out there, but Quark pointed out a few as Mark swung the phone this way and that.

    General air traffic over Aluatha was basically skiffs. A few hovercars, like on Earth, but mostly skiffs, looking like boats in the air, meandering between squat buildings here and there.

    Quark soon pinged on the dock that the Grey Whale was traveling toward, painting arrows in the augmented sky of his little screen.

    Mark extrapolated, ¡°Maybe a minute away? It should be in view right now¡­ I can¡¯t see it, though.¡± Mark moved the phone this way and that, looking past it to see where Quark was seeing, but Mark saw nothing.

    Isoko and Sally stretched to see, but they couldn¡¯t see anything¡ª

    Isoko saw it first, smiling wide, and then Sally saw it and she said something, but her words vanished to the wind because Mark finally saw the tower.

    The Grand Port of Aluatha was a spike of crystal, twisted into the air, just as tall as any of the pyramids but nestled against a background of clouds that had obscured it, and Mark wondered why he hadn¡¯t noticed it before now. It was massive. Several hoverships held against the sides of the port like puffball mushrooms on a telephone pole.

    And then a warning flashed on Quark¡¯s screen, and Mark realized why he had not seen the Grand Port until now.

    Mark read off, ¡° ¡®Due to anti-viewing magics, seeing the Grand Port from a distance further than 3 kilometers is nearly impossible for most people.¡¯ Well that¡¯s fucking weird.¡±

    Sally inhaled sharply. ¡°I forgot about that! Yeah. You can¡¯t see it until you¡¯re close.¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s weird,¡± Mark said, absolutely disliking the idea of big invisible things hiding on the horizon.

    ¡°Not that weird,¡± Isoko said. ¡°This ship is under similar magics. The settlement will be, too. ¡®You can¡¯t see it until you¡¯re close¡¯ is pretty much exactly the same magics that kept the Moon Veiled, until they broke the Veil. It¡¯s apparently easy to replicate for certain sizes of structures, but I have no fucking clue what that actually means. It¡¯s just something I¡¯ve heard.¡±

    Mark and Sally both had an introspective moment.

    Mark said to Sally, ¡°Yeah, okay.¡±

    ¡°Makes a lot of sense, actually,¡± Sally said. Then she asked Isoko, ¡°You think there are other places in Crytalis that we can¡¯t see?¡±

    ¡°Oh sure,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Most of those magics are for, like, strategic use. You can¡¯t hide everything everyone does everywhere. That much magic attracts certain kaiju just as much as a city. These places try to do as little hiding magic as possible¡­¡± She shrugged. ¡°I think Hearthswell Castellan magic takes up 90% of a city¡¯s safe-level magic defenses. The ¡®you-can¡¯t-see-me effect¡¯ on the tower is probably the other 10%, if you include all the airships running the same spellframes.¡±

    ¡®Spellframe¡¯? What was that?If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Isoko continued, ¡°Eliot talked about it once, but not a whole lot. It was a ¡®Hearthswellian Secrets¡¯-thing.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t begrudge Hearthswell her secrets of Castellan. Not much. Freyala had a few secrets of her own. One of the biggest Freyalan secrets Mark knew about was one he used all the time when he had to actually kill something; a Union of Vein Decay to make something leak from the inside out. It was powerful stuff that usually only Inquisitors got, but which Lola had shared with Mark because they wanted Mark to be an Inquisitor of Freyala, eventually.

    Mark knew that Hearthswell wanted Eliot to become a High Priest for her church, so they had given Eliot a lot of secrets that he couldn¡¯t share. Mark still imagined what Hearthswellian secrets would look like.

    It was widely known that Castellan, the Power granted by Hearthswell, was good for healing and harming in the domain of the person who was running the Power. It could do a lot of things along those lines, the likes of which Mark had only ever read about online. Castellan could prevent and reverse monsterfication on people and animals¡­

    So could Castellan make monsters, too?

    Mark raised his eyebrows at the thought of such an idea¡­ and then he instantly wondered if Union could make a monster, too. Could he¡­ breathe in, like, ¡®Stability¡¯ and breathe out ¡®Mutagen¡¯? With the idea that ¡®mutagen¡¯ was the cause of monsters?

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what actually caused monsters beyond a vague ¡®they¡¯re mutated!¡¯ sort of idea.

    Mostly, though...

    Mark asked, ¡°I¡¯m not the only one who isn¡¯t quite sure what a ¡®spellframe¡¯ is, right?¡± He looked at Isoko. ¡°Eliot had used that word before, but he never explained it, and he kinda brushed me off the last time I even thought to ask about it.¡± But now Mark was thinking about it again.

    ¡°It¡¯s what artificers use, right?¡± Sally asked, though she was clearly unsure about her guess. ¡°Like the things inside of a hoverbelt that makes the gravcrystal ¡®gravify¡¯ in the right ways?¡±

    Mark nodded a little, considering that a good guess, but he wasn¡¯t quite sure if it was the right one.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Isoko said, ¡°All I know is that Eliot is gonna do some sort of mana flow thingy, like with the roads and pipes and whatever, and that¡¯s a ¡®spellframe¡¯. It¡¯s not as complicated as an actual artifact, at all... I think.¡±

    Mark smirked. ¡°You don¡¯t know either.¡±

    Isoko rolled her eyes. ¡°I know that it¡¯s dead simple and it goes off of ambient mana, and it keeps the monsters from spawning inside city limits.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I thought the Hearthswell magic was in the walls. That¡¯s why there are so many monsters outside of big cities; because the walls have so much magic in them.¡±

    Isoko shrugged.

    Sally asked, ¡°Smaller walls mean less monsters, right? That¡¯s what I was told.¡±

    ¡°What we were all told,¡± Mark added.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Isoko said.

    Sally asked, ¡°Soooo... With the smaller walls, are we gonna have walks in the woods, killing 10 monsters every day, or spawnfests like at Memphi, with non-stop shit 20 hours out of 24? Memphi is fucking crazy, by the way. Fun, yeah, but damned crazy.¡±

    ¡°Oh for sure walks in the woods,¡± Isoko said, ¡°Should be plenty of time to build up the city, which is mostly going to be us following Eliot around and guarding him when he¡¯s not directly working with, like, Aurora.¡±

    The conversation kinda died, because they were approaching the Grand Port, and all of them were mesmerized at least a little. Sally had seen it all before, though.

    Mark had a small feeling of dissonance, now that he could actually see the Grand Port up close.

    Growing up, Mark had watched movies of Daihoon, with all these magical things like towers made of crystal and floating mountains and underground housing, so the overall architecture of Crytalis, the capital of the Aluatha Empire, was rather normal¡­ Sort of. It was normal in the way that seeing a grand waterfall for the first time was normal. Or seeing a beautiful spear was normal. It just conjured up a good feeling of awe and wonder; a lightness in the chest, and a joy in the soul.

    So seeing Crytalis was pretty fucking amazing.

    But the Grand Port was a damned skyscraper, with walls made of windows and holes in the walls, like open aircraft garage hangar doors, and the center of the place, like, 10 different cargo elevators, or whatever. It was the single most magnificent, absolutely-mundane airport that Mark had ever seen.

    He was pretty sure a great black slick down the side of it, right over there, was spilled engine grease¡­ Maybe. Some flying guys were wearing dirty overalls and cleaning the black mess with mops and floating buckets that they towed in the air behind them, on strings.

    Mark asked, ¡°Isoko? Hovercars have oil in them, right?¡±

    ¡°The big enough ones, yeah,¡± Isoko said, looking down at the grease slick, too.

    ¡°What could have happened there?¡± Sally asked.

    Isoko, who had studied for her hover license, said, ¡°All hover vehicles have engines for electric amenities. That stuff takes up most of the space in a vehicle, actually. I¡¯m guessing that someone¡¯s engine had a breakdown, and they had to get some maintenance on one of the side panels, but they sprung a leak, for whatever reason.¡±

    Soon, the ship moved away from the guys cleaning the building.

    Docking was a ponderous affair, with wait times and ship movements and fliers everywhere, and then finally the Grey Whale got to park up at the very top of the spire. Mark couldn¡¯t see in that direction anymore, where one of the cargo bays was currently locked to an extendable bridge, connecting it to the tower. But there were cameras set up in the cargo bay, broadcasting to the whole rest of the ship.

    Mark hung out with Isoko and Sally, eating and drinking at the ship¡¯s bar while they watched the scene play out down below. Right now it was just Eliot setting the stage, literally; crafting a nice meeting location between the storage boxes that had been pushed to the sides of the hold. It was mostly faux stone walls and a stone table.

    Mark and them weren¡¯t invited to attend, like 99.9% of the people on the ship, but the meeting concerned everyone on board, and so, it was broadcast. It was a public-record thing, too. A recording of the meeting would be kept in perpetuity at some hall of records somewhere¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure where, actually. So he asked.

    Isoko said, ¡°In Domal¡¯Takela. It¡¯s the seat of the Aluatha Empire. It¡¯s supposed to be a really impressive place at the heart of its own pyramid.¡±

    ¡°Like a hundred superhero towers and buildings all enmeshed together,¡± Sally said. ¡°All under a fucking awful crystal pyramid shell. I saw a picture of it and all I could think was ¡®this would look better in the open¡¯.¡±

    ¡°It probably can¡¯t survive in the¡­¡± Mark had been about to say that Domal¡¯Takela couldn¡¯t survive in the open, but that made no sense at all. ¡°Old historical buildings don¡¯t get old without being able to survive. Domal¡¯Takela has probably survived thousands of horrible events.¡±

    Sally smirked. ¡°Yup! I want to see it eventually. You can sign up for a tour, but the wait list is years long.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°The place gets like 5 million visitors a year, or something like that. It¡¯s a pilgrimage-thing for a lot of people. I hear they put on shows of great historical fights in the sky, on the underside of the pyramid. A tour with a show is supposed to be like living through one of the great events of the empire.¡±

    The conversation meandered to Sally asking about Isoko¡¯s family, living at the Nook of the Aluatha Empire, to which Isoko spoke of uncles and cousins and aunts of all kinds, who mostly moved here 60-odd years ago, or who grew up here, born and raised. Mark listened.

    And Mark watched the screen and smiled a little ¡ªwhile also feeling a great deal of second-hand embarrassment¡ª as Eliot put some black spikes onto the furnishings down below and spoke of having a ¡®proper villainous showing for his team of villains¡¯. High Paladin Azocar Sanchez, of Hearthswell, with Hearthswell¡¯s original last name as his own so he was a big deal, stood with Eliot, telling him to tone it down and to go more normal in presentation. Or at least that¡¯s what Mark assumed was happening. The video was pointed at the stage, and not at the pair of men, so Mark couldn¡¯t read lips or anything like that. Mark could only read some body language, but Mark didn¡¯t know Azocar that well.

    Eliot had had different people helping him to learn Castellan back at Memphi, and at Mexico City for a few weeks back there. Mark had only ever met a few of them, but not really. He couldn¡¯t even recall their names right now, and Eliot had never brought them around, and Mark had never sought them out. Eliot¡¯s current instructor on Castellan, and the man who would be teaching Eliot for the foreseeable future, was High Paladin Azocar Sanchez¡ª

    Oh. Well there was the one guy Mark ¡®knew¡¯. Apparently, Eliot had gotten instruction from Holy Father Rafael Pardo, the spiritual leader of the Hearthswell Church, just as Mark had gotten some help from Holy Mother Julia Garin, the leader of the Church of Freyala¡­

    ¡°I need to send messages back home,¡± Mark said softly, to himself.

    To Lola, to David, to his uncles Alexandro and Gabriel. He should tell them he was okay, and that they had made it safely through the Southern Crossing, and here to Crytalis.

    Sally and Isoko Looked at Mark.

    Sally asked, ¡°You haven¡¯t done that already?¡±

    Mark felt a bit sheepish. ¡°¡­ Not yet.¡±

    Isoko and Sally both gave Mark another Look.

    Mark pulled out Quark and was already tapping away at menus as he said, ¡°They got the messages that the ship made it safely through!¡±

    The girls shooed Mark away, telling him to go send messages already and that his uncles were probably worried sick. Mark didn¡¯t disagree with them, so he went down the hall and started composing messages.

    Lola and David got a pair of texts, but Alexandro and Gabriel got a call. The girls had been right; they had been worried about him. Lola and David¡¯s reply texts came through while Mark was on the phone with Alexandro. They had been worried, too, but both of them had already seen the news through Citadel of Freyala Resources; Mark¡¯s ship had made it just fine.

    Mark felt a lot better when he walked back into the viewing room.

    Isoko and Sally both noticed, both of them looking satisfied at the small joy that must have been on Mark¡¯s face.

    And then Mark remembered that his parents were dead. The main people he would have wanted to talk to were gone. It was like a splash of horrible, freezing water on an otherwise nice day.

    Mark pretended nothing was wrong.

    The ceremony was about to start.

 143

    Eliot took a deep breath. In, out. Relax.

    Eliot¡¯s heart beat hard, and he was sweating a little. Grinning, too. His clothes were immaculate. The stage was boring and posh instead of how Eliot wanted it to be. The time was nigh to make some really big connections. It was probably for the best that Azocar had convinced Eliot to make the setting less villainous, even though Eliot still thought it would be neat to put their best villainous foot forward.

    And so, the setting was all traditional-xerkonan. Eliot had shifted around the surfaces of cargo boxes to disguise them like stone pillars and walls, while the center of the cargo bay held a similar ¡®stone¡¯ deck, with a ¡®stone¡¯ table and two long benches¡ª

    ¡°Soon?¡± Azocar asked, his gaze directed behind Eliot.

    Eliot turned.

    Aurora was coming up from behind, speaking with her spymaster Yoro at her side, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t want them interrupting; make it happen, Yoro.¡±

    Yoro bowed a little and then stepped away, vanishing in a slip of speed.

    Eliot almost wanted to ask about who could possibly want to interrupt this meeting¡ª

    But Aurora looked to Eliot and said, ¡°They¡¯re headed this way right now. Lock the room and set the stage.¡±

    Go time, then.

    Eliot slipped his awareness into the floor, the walls, the doors, threading into the man-made materials.

    He sealed the doors shut. He locked the windows to the cargo bay. And then Eliot got fancy. The bridge leading to the Grand Port, just beyond the open cargo bay door, flickered with lights, like an illuminated red carpet, but purple, because they were receiving royalty. The day was bright outside the cargo bay, but inside it was darker, so Eliot created the lights on the ceiling of the cargo bay. The lights came on calmly, as though clouds had dispersed overhead, transforming the normal gloom of the interior of the ship to as bright as noon on a cloudless day.

    Beyond the purple bridge lay the interior of the Grand Port.

    Other levels of the Port had ships loading and unloading and people running back and forth, yelling at each other about the movements of hovercranes and a whole lot of general, controlled chaos. Ships had to unload and load in a speedy sort of way, after all. They had to organize around 8 different elevators, too. But this level of the Grand Port was empty. Calm.

    The only thing on this level of the Grand Port was a single, open elevator shaft. The elevator lifted into view, and then Eliot saw them. Three people, with two guards¡ª

    Aurora snapped her heels together and strode out from behind the stony boxes. She did not need to command Eliot and Azocar to fall in line, because that¡¯s what they did without needing to be told.

    Aurora walked into the ¡®clearing¡¯ of the cargo bay, with Eliot on her left and Azocar on her right. They mirrored the people coming up the bridge into the cargo bay, though the royal had an extra two people, her guards, that fanned out to the sides of the room. The royal and her two people came straight at Aurora, Eliot, and Azocar.

    On the left of the royal was a woman that Eliot had met a few times already; Ambassador Iliandra Snowstepper. She was to be the Ambassador for the settlement project, and she would be joining them on the ship for the rest of the journey to the site. Eliot liked her, as much as he liked any ambassador.

    On the right of the royal was an old man in thick robes that held himself straight and tall, but who still seemed burdened with age and responsibility, because he was. He was Provisioner Radian Olden, of the Office of the Provisioner of Aluatha. He was responsible for all of the settlement project¡¯s material coordination with Aluatha. Eliot had heard he was 150 years old, or older, and something of a Grand Mage.

    And in the center was the royal.

    Second Imperial Princess Walaria, who was crowned in a sunburst glow that highlighted the brightest red hair that Eliot had ever seen. Her white cape and dress floated around her like gossamer light brought down to the mortal realm, while her red eyes bored into Eliot like lasers.

    And that¡¯s when Eliot almost pissed himself.

    Eliot felt Observed in a way he had rarely felt. It was like being near a kaiju. Like looking up at Addavein, as the dragon stared into Eliot¡¯s everything, judging him from kilometers away, yet still able to reach him all the same. Eliot could never return the touch. Eliot was forever able to be struck, and unable to strike. For small threats, Eliot was able to protect himself, but against the big threats, he could just watch, and Second Princess Walaria was one of those big threats.

    She was like a god¡ª

    Walaria moved her gaze away from Eliot, back to Aurora, and it was like a sword had been taken from his neck. Time had been slowed, and now time advanced rapidly, almost disjointed as it jumped forward.

    The 6 of them were seated, somehow.

    Eliot barely recalled the process that had resulted in them ending up at the table, seated as ceremony demanded. But his ass was firmly on the bench, and they were seated across from each other, and Aurora was speaking and Walaria said something in return. Eliot had a brief moment of wondering if he had been subjected to some sort of Mind Power, but he was pretty sure he was fine. He had simply been terrified out of his mind for one very, very large moment. He wished that would happen less. Once he was able to create the settlement, to stand behind the power of Castellan, he would feel a lot better.

    Gradually, the conversation happening between Aurora and Second Princess Walaria became intelligible, as the sound of blood pumping in Eliot¡¯s ears began to ease.

    ¡°¡­ third stance, in the Tenets of Empire, we speak now regarding the noble houses that you have taken under your wings, that you enable through the support of the first two Tenets of Empire.¡± Walaria stared at Aurora, her red eyes filled with judgment, as she asked, ¡°Will you follow the rules of the law, and ensure that the people and the powers they wield under your orders, will only be used for the good of humanity? Will you ensure that whatever horrors perpetuated by your people will not undermine the greater whole?¡±

    ¡°I so swear,¡± Aurora said, ¡°The people and the powers they wield, under my authority, granted to me by the Aluatha Empire, will only be used for the good of humanity. I will ensure that the lawbreakers and the never-do-wells will have a minimal effect on the outcome of our settlement.¡±

    Walaria gave a small nod. She moved on. ¡°In the fourth stance, in the Tenets of Empire, we speak now regarding the lessers that you enable, through the support of the first three Tenets of Empire. Will you spread prosperity for all humans who huddle under your wings, to ensure that when the sky rips and the world breaks, that the people survive? Will you do what you can for those who choose not to follow your rules directly? Will the systems you create shelter even your enemies, in times of peace, and in times of horror and happening?¡±

    ¡°I so swear,¡± Aurora said, ¡°I will shelter all who exist within my influence, including those who would call me enemy. When the world breaks, I, and all I oversee, will endeavor to save as many as we can.¡±

    ¡°In the fifth stance, in the Tenets of Empire, we speak now of the duties to hold back the wilds¡­¡±

    With his back straight and the fear that had gripped him slowly ebbing away, Eliot witnessed history. He was not called to speak. He was not called to do anything at all. But he was here, and his cameras were recording well.

    The Tenets of Empire lasted all the way to the tenth tenet, and soon the major oaths were over.

    Walaria stood first, and then Aurora and everyone else stood.

    Walaria intoned, ¡°We of Aluatha grant you authority for one purpose: the prosperity of humanity in the face of all monsters.¡±

    Aurora intoned, ¡°I wield the authority granted to me by Aluatha with one purpose: the prosperity of humanity in the face of all monsters.¡±

    Walaria said, ¡°By the power of the Emperor, and the Aluatha Empire, I, Second Princess Walaria Aluatha, do grant Aurora Valen of House Valen, the title of General of Settlement. Congratulations. We look forward to your success.¡±

    Aurora bowed. Eliot and Azocar mirrored her bow.

    ¡°Rise,¡± Walaria commanded.

    They rose.

    Walaria nodded.

    Provisioner Radian Olden unfurled a large scroll onto the stone table, listing out everything that had been said.

    Ambassador Iliandra Snowstepper set down a spike of crystal and a small dish of red ink.

    Walaria picked up the crystal and signed her name, and then Aurora did the same¡ª

    Walaria looked to Eliot.

    Eliot panicked. He wasn¡¯t supposed to do anything! He was just supposed to stand here and look pretty! What did she¡ª

    Aurora whispered to Eliot, ¡°A recording of the event.¡±

    Eliot realized what he was needed for! Yes. He was supposed to give them a recording of the event. Eliot had even prepared for this! He delivered a small flicker of Manipulation toward the recording device in his pocket. The recording crystal inside the device flickered to finality. With a deft hand, Eliot plucked the crystal out of his pocket and handed it to Aurora.

    Aurora handed off the crystal to Walaria¡ªIf you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Walaria snatched the crystal with a deft grip and twisted her hand, disappearing the small block of solid-state information somewhere else, out of sight, out of mind. And then Walaria smiled, and all of the horrors of the previous ten minutes seemed to vanish with an uptick of Walaria¡¯s blood-red lips. She grinned, and the grin turned into a smile, and then she clapped her hands, and laughed once.

    Walaria exclaimed, ¡°Excellent! Wonderful! I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re finally getting out into the world as a proper general, Aurora!¡± She looked to Eliot, and Eliot did not feel fear this time, as Walaria spoke in a knowing tone, ¡°And the Empire has gained a true Man-made Manipulator, as well.¡±

    Her tone and face was one of happy joy.

    Aurora, Azocar, Iliandra, and everyone else, remained solidly professional. Eliot was fine with being stoic, so that is what he did.

    Walaria waved a hand at the walls and the entire facade that Eliot had built, all of the fake stone and the ¡®sunlights¡¯ overhead, and all of the cameras here and there, all shattered, revealing the cargo hull as it had been. As though Eliot hadn¡¯t done a single damned thing to prepare for the meeting. The six of them and Walaria¡¯s guards once again stood on a plain steel cargo hull, the bay lights hidden behind tall boxes, the sunlight beyond the open cargo bay the only real illumination in the space. Sunlight poured in at an angle, reflected off of the glass exterior of the Grand Port, and all of Walaria¡¯s shimmery, gossamer dress, seemed a whole lot more real, turning from thick mist to a horse riding outfit underneath a simple white cape.

    Walaria sat down on a simple chair, which was one of 4, and waved a hand, saying, ¡°Radian and Azocar, please go talk about things. I need to chat with these three.¡± She gestured to the chairs. ¡°Sit! Sit.¡±

    Eliot was caught off guard, but no one else seemed to suffer that same fate. Azocar introduced himself to Provisioner Radian and those two went off chatting, into the ship, while Aurora bowed and took a seat along with Ambassador Iliandra.

    Walaria grinned at Eliot, for Eliot was still standing five seconds after her orders had gone out to sit. She seemed predatory, like a dragon playing with her food. Maybe that sort of idea wasn¡¯t too far from the truth. The whole line of Emperors of Aluatha were rumored to be the descendants of dragons, but that rumor was officially untrue, according to the Empire¡ª

    ¡°What thoughts occur?¡± Walaria asked Eliot.

    Eliot rapidly sat down, saying, ¡°I¡¯m stunned by your beauty, but I¡¯m becoming accustomed.¡±

    Aurora was a stone mask. Iliandra breathed in a little too sharply.

    Walaria chuckled lightly as she turned to Aurora, saying, ¡°He¡¯s cute. I might need to steal him from you in a few years.¡±

    Eliot choked on nothing.

    Walaria was pleased with herself as she continued, ¡°Tell me everything I need to know that you won¡¯t put down on paper, Aurora, starting with the status of your primary pillars. Start with Reeni Thumb, your Agriculture and Resource Management woman. I want to know how you finally managed to get her to come out of retirement.¡±

    Eliot rapidly had several thoughts.

    Eliot was suddenly comfortable, and also awed, because while he was going to be the center of the building of the new city, he wasn¡¯t a proven power, and so he hadn¡¯t been included in certain Big Talks. Not yet. Certain parts of the whole settlement project were still hidden from him. From the bare bones nature of the houses that the nobles wanted, meaning that they were going to do all of their final builds themselves, to the histories of a few different people in the project, like Mark¡¯s apparent rival, Tartu Solari, the son of Grand Mage Rekaro Solari, and now Reeni Thumb¡¯s suddenly interesting background, Eliot didn¡¯t know as much as he should know about all of the people around him. Part of that was the utterly terrifying week, or whatever, they had spent in the Crossing, and the days that Eliot had needed to recover from that. He hadn¡¯t spent enough time talking to people, to figure out every angle in the project.

    But apparently he was being brought in on one of those Big Talks right now, seeing as how he was sitting here, listening in to a Big Conversation between the Second Princess of the Aluatha Empire, and Eliot¡¯s boss for at least the next 5 years. Probably a lot longer than 5 years, honestly.

    Eliot loved plots and gossip. This was so much more interesting than giant monsters.

    But of course, it all came back to giant monsters.

    Aurora said, ¡°Reeni wants to be there when Addavein steps out of line, so she can try a few things to rip him apart into Addashield and the demon.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s eyes went wide. Holy shit, this was a Big Deal. They were talking about what that one demon, Leash, had said to Mark inside that Light Box, months ago, to taunt him into making a Contract.

    Walaria stared at Aurora, her eyes full of concern and knowing, as she asked, ¡°Has she made any progress with her chimeric experiments?¡±

    ¡°She put a chicken and a fish together last month and she pulled them back apart, but only in shape. The souls were still mixed. The chicken ended up drowning when it went for a swim but the fish remains alive.¡±

    Walaria looked disappointed as she leaned back, frowning. ¡°Let me know if she will allow a visit, or if she wants any of our mages helping her. We have thousands of people working on the problem as well. If we can rescue Addashield then we will, but we will not treat with Addavein at all.¡± Walaria put her frown away. ¡°Your pillars.¡±

    Aurora smiled a little, showing emotion for the first time, but only a little, as she said, ¡°We have a total of 23 pillars, not including me or my brother. I¡¯m particularly happy with Sam Ranger¡¯s inclusion, and for his showing with the sky snake kaiju that accosted us on our way to the Southern Crossing. Do you wish to see the video? Eliot made a good video on the incident.¡±

    Eliot had a small moment of panic because he was currently cut off from all of his records and there was something in the air preventing him from reaching out to connect to the ship¡¯s systems. It was a sequestering effect, and Walaria was certainly responsible for this magic, so was Aurora asking Eliot to break the effect, or for Walaria to end the effect? Was this some sort of game of power being played out in front of Eliot, or¡ª

    Walaria waved a hand. ¡°I saw the video, and I would keep our talk secure.¡± She asked, ¡°You would lay that man¡¯s accomplishments at his own feet? Not at the various boosters you have in your midst, including that Union boy?¡±

    ¡°Mark is adamantium blooded, so he will certainly be a pillar in a few years,¡± Aurora said. ¡°He¡¯s also going to be a source of adamantium for the settlement.¡±

    Walaria¡¯s eyes went wide.

    Iliandra gasped a little.

    Eliot found himself suddenly hoping that Mark was going to be okay, because there was greed and desire shining in Walaria¡¯s eyes¡­ and then Walaria put that look away.

    ¡­ Had Eliot imagined that? No, he hadn¡¯t imagined it at all.

    Walaria said, ¡°I am glad to know that I won¡¯t have to punish you and yours for trading with Addavein.¡± She said, ¡°Ignore the other pillars; I know enough of them. Speak of the smaller pillars among your people, and whoever might one day grow into true pillars. Let me help you help them to grow.¡±

    Aurora seemed a little disappointed, but she hid it well. She began, ¡°We have this one young man with Copy Attack and a knack for retaining aspects of those attacks. He can¡¯t hold on to the true form of anything yet, but we expect him to be able to learn how to copy Skills in synergistic ways in a few years, after some tutoring with our Grand Mage. His name is Sorin Petrikov and we fully expect him to become a pillar with enough support.¡±

    Walaria hummed; vaguely disappointed. ¡°Only attacks?¡±

    ¡°He has gained some ability to Copy attacks that can also do other things. But it¡¯s an Arcane Skill; it does have to be an attack.¡±

    Walaria tsk¡¯d, then said, ¡°Uninterested.¡±

    Aurora continued, ¡°A pair of siblings; one of them is a Natural Alchemist and the other has a stranger Skill, Item Foundry, that allows him to take properly tagged items and make more of them. Eliza and Will Birch.¡±

    Walaria raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is Will a Tinkerer, or¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Natural Skill as well.¡±

    Walaria was suddenly very interested. ¡°Do they have a Witch in their party? In their general vicinity at all?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get them to work with Reeni, but she¡¯s not having it and the Natural Alchemist girl wants to be a healer, only, while the Item Foundry boy wants to be rich and indolent. I still have hopes for them because they both signed the 5 year contract, and they both want to be here, but I foresee some troubles with both of them.¡± Aurora added, ¡°There is no Witch to guide them to power.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll send you a Witch.¡±

    ¡°We welcome your generosity.¡± Aurora continued, ¡°Our Seers ¡ªthe Prognosticator, the Battlesenser, and the Fortunate¡ª are all showing adequate promise. The Fortunate has already steered the ship away from four previously unknown kaiju that would have attacked us, if we would have gotten near them. All three of them could use some more assistance with learning their Skills. The Prognosticator is incredibly far behind where they could be. The Battlesenser might end up washing out; they did not take well to seeing their first true monsters. Big Silver sent them into a 3 day coma.¡±

    Big Silver had almost sent Eliot into the afterlife, too. Just imagining seeing those eyes, like moons, hovering above the horizon¡­. Eliot shivered. He did notice that Aurora didn¡¯t name names, though, when it came to the Seers in the settlement project. They were well hidden for Reasons, Eliot was sure.

    Fortune tellers were always well hidden, though, if they were worth a damn.

    Walaria nodded in quiet thought, then decided, ¡°I¡¯ll send you a Witch for the Prognosticator. If the other two make their way to the Prognosticator¡¯s lessons then they will be allowed to benefit as well, but I would rather not take them too solidly in hand.¡±

    ¡°We welcome your generosity.¡± Aurora continued, ¡°I have two strong True Fliers who think of themselves as superheroes, who have never faced monsters in a proper setting. I have handed off their case to the appropriate people, but I can only hope they survive real fights with real danger.¡±

    She didn¡¯t name their names, either, huh?

    Walaria frowned a little. ¡°Superheroes, eh?¡± She went silent in thought.

    Aurora waited.

    ¡°You have the Hero/Villain Program happening, yes?¡±

    ¡°We do. I have forbidden their actions for at least a month, but I suspect that I will be dealing with that manufactured drama much sooner than that.¡±

    Walaria hmm¡¯d, then looked at Aurora. It was easy to tell that she had chosen not to engage with that whole superhero/villain thing at all.

    Aurora continued...

    Eliot heard a lot of gossip that day.

 144

    Mark walked out of medical bay 3, feeling a lingering pain in both of his arms and his thighs, while a line of people stood to the side, snaking its way into the room Mark had just come from. It was vaccination time, and Mark had just been inoculated against at least 17 different things. A list of those various things held on the wall across from the room split into 4 different categories of necessity. The categories were based on the threats that a person might be exposed to in the settlement project.

    Mark qualified for the full suite of vaccinations.

    Union could heal a lot, and Healthy Body would keep Mark upright through most of the horrible things out there, but healing was easier on both his Power and his Body if he had better foundations to heal upon.

    A nurse from the Aluatha Army saw Mark come out into the hallway, smiled, and gestured to the right, speaking in a heavy accent that Mark recognized as Deep Aluathan, ¡°Communication magics are right this way, good sir, if you be needing them.¡±

    Mark nodded, said, ¡°Thank you,¡± and walked to the next room, because yes, he did need some language-learning magics.

    Another nurse in the next room asked for his name and birth date and Mark gave them, and then he got to stand near an older woman in a plain dress. She was not in the army. Or maybe she was just a contractor? Hard to know. The woman asked about communication magics, and Mark said yes, and soon, he felt a little twitch of Power slip into his body and seem to unlock something inside.

    It felt weird.

    The woman noticed Mark¡¯s reaction, and like she had said it a hundred times already, because she probably had, she said, ¡°I have opened your mind to learning and language. You¡¯ll feel strange for several hours, as the meaning of things becomes malleable and you learn to put new words to old concepts at increased rates. Please join the rest of your people in the movie halls and conversation rooms. The only languages allowed to be spoken for the rest of the trip to the settlement are Xerk, Aluathan, and Okuanan. To say ¡®thank you¡¯ in those three languages, you say¡ª¡±

    She said three weird bursts of sound that caught Mark off guard, followed by a whole string of weird sounds that felt like language, but could have just been gibberish for all Mark understood them.

    Then she spoke in English again, asking, ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°I, uh... I can Union with Understanding. Should I? Will it interfere with the magics you just cast, I mean.¡± Mark almost wanted to say something else, but his tongue felt weird and his head felt strange, too.

    The older woman grinned a little. ¡°Not many people can do that with Union. You¡¯re on the Inquisitor track at your age?¡±

    Oh.

    She didn¡¯t know who Mark was.

    Mark smiled a little, saying, ¡°Something like that, yes. So it should be fine? I was told it would be fine, but I want to make surely double.¡±

    ¡­ ¡®surely double¡¯? Mark narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular, wondering at his odd word choices, but the woman didn¡¯t seem to care.

    ¡°Go for it! No way to grow in Skill without expanding bounds. Darklight knows I never would have gotten anywhere without some stranger experimentation in my younger days.¡±

    ¡­ ¡®Darklight¡¯? Mark wasn¡¯t sure what that was, but he understood the rest of it.

    He nodded, thanked the woman, and then left.

    Mark walked on. Before he got to the main movie hall, where words flowed through the air like foreign ambassadors trying to make themselves understood, he took out his phone and whispered, ¡°Full Xerk speaking mode translation.¡±

    Mark blinked as he tried to understand what he had just said, himself.

    ¡­ That hadn¡¯t been proper English, had it?

    Quark spoke in weird, undulating tones that made no sense at all, but Mark assumed he would figure them out, soon enough.

    Mark found Sally and Isoko in one of the upper balconies of the movie hall. Upon slotting himself into the welcoming seat, Sally whispered up a storm, smiling as she did so, while Isoko managed to ask questions that didn¡¯t make any sense at all. Mark wasn¡¯t sure of much right now, but he was sure of one thing: Sally was taking great joy in being so much better at something than both of them, Isoko was catching up fast, and Sally was trying to explain the movie, so far. People were talking over the movie, which no one seemed to really mind. A lot of people were explaining a lot of things, and Mark understood almost none of it.

    But Mark felt the inklings of understanding creep upon him as Sally whispered about the movie, and as she fell silent, and the movie started to make sense. The subtitles helped, a lot. What helped more, though, was when Mark started breathing in a Union of Understanding, as Lola had once taught him could be done.

    It wasn¡¯t a big Union; nothing too serious. Just a light touch. Such a light touch helped immensely, though, because everyone was trying to understand the movie, everyone had some understanding magics cast upon them, and some of the people in the room were understanding the film a whole lot more than others. Mark was hesitant to plunge too deep into Understanding, though, because he knew he was hurting some people¡¯s individual progress, but overall, the whole group of people in that theater were progressing quicker, now that Mark was here.

    ¡®Understanding¡¯ wasn¡¯t something that could be ¡®taken away¡¯ or ¡®granted¡¯, unless Mark directly tried to do that, which was not what he was trying to do at all.

    Mark¡¯s current Union was more like connecting to plants. Plants enjoyed being connected through Union, even if they were gifted the bad half of a Union, because plants did well when they were a part of a larger system. Mark could absolutely kill plants if he wanted to; that was called blighting them. But just connecting to plants and giving them weakness was fine, because they liked all of the castoffs of people, anyway, and when Mark Union¡¯d plants to the world, they also expanded their root base many, many times over.

    This was Mark¡¯s first experiment creating a Union of people and Understanding, and it seemed to be progressing about how it worked when Mark connected to plants; everyone benefited¡ª

    Something ¡®clicked¡¯ in the air, and Mark felt individual people in the group start to truly understand what was happening on the screen. It was, Mark imagined, someone touching upon fluency, and then falling away from fluency. But they had found fluency, somehow. It was still there for them, lurking in the dark of possibility. They had found a path forward, and they were leading everyone else toward that same fluency, now that Mark was connecting everyone in one great big Union.

    Or maybe something else was happening. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Somehow, Mark felt as those near-fluent people became nodes in his Union that spread their newfound understanding out to others, triggering other people to understand faster. Sometimes those new understandings in secondary people cause a feedback in the propagator nodes that boosted those first people to further heights of comprehension.

    Mark watched, and felt himself, as the people on the screen began to make sense.

    Mark suddenly realized something about the story on the screen. The man who had been flying around, throwing lightning, talking to the enemy across the way, was the protagonist. He was not the bad guy, as Mark had first understood. The guy had just fried, like, 20 people to get to the guy he was trying to get to, which was not very ¡®protagonist¡¯ of him, but Mark suspected that the people were still alive, and the lightning guy was suddenly talking about righteousness and the rule of law as he attacked a man who Mark had thought had been the good guy. The ¡®good guy¡¯ rebutted the ¡®bad guy¡¯ with words of warning, that he was going to kill even more people if he had to, in order to get his revenge. So that good guy was clearly not the good guy.

    It wasn¡¯t till half an hour more watching that Mark realized that the story line was more complicated than that, but by that time, Eliot had shown up.

    Eliot whispered in Xerk, ¡°Hey.¡±

    Mark smiled, saying, ¡°You¡¯re back!¡±

    Isoko readily got up, since she was on her phone and not really watching anyway, saying, ¡°Good. Let¡¯s go do something else.¡±

    Sally was up and ready to go, too. When Mark got up from his chair, he noticed that other people were hanging out by the wall, watching the movie but without a place to sit, so he gestured toward them and his own chair. Some people Mark had met, but couldn¡¯t quite place except he knew they were part of the settlement, cycled into the chairs Mark and his people had occupied, Mark¡¯s team went on into the ship.

    As they got into the hallway, Mark was about to ask what had happened¡ª

    The air chimed, all conversations stopped.

    Aurora¡¯s mostly serious, but slightly cheerful voice came over the speakers, ¡°Attention, everyone! We are now all citizens of the Aluatha Empire, under the Settlement Codes of Conduct, and we¡¯ll be leaving dock in 5 minutes. We should be arriving at our destination, which has already been staked out, in 2 days. Thank you for being here. I look forward to growing strong with you all.¡±

    People started cheering.

    Mark whooped and hollered right alongside them.

    Aurora¡¯s voice was almost drowned out by the grand cheer that went up from the ship, but Mark heard her say something about wine and meat in the mess halls, and Mark was the first to point the way, saying it was time to eat!

    The food was a fully-catered meal, courtesy of the Empire, with little fruits cut into fancy shapes resting on beds of ice, and meat carved to order from big stacks of fire-roasted skewers, and spices and desserts and even great big steaks. Mark grabbed a steak for his second trip to the buffet, but he found it impossible to finish. Sally happily grabbed the steak off of his plate and chowed down.

    Eventually, they made it back to their rooms, all of them talking in Xerk the whole way, discussing the weather and laughing about conjugation and tonal shifts. Apparently the words for ¡®shit¡¯ and ¡®rain¡¯ were rather similar, and it was easy to get them confused, and many jokes had been made about that similarity over the centuries.

    But when they got behind the closed door of their rooms, Mark turned the lock, activated the silencing magics, and asked Eliot, ¡°So what the fuck happened, dude! You met with the Second Princess on your own?!¡±

    Eliot had been bursting at the seams for the last two hours, pulling away from the topic of the ceremony every time they got close, or whenever anyone else came up and asked about Second Princess Walaria. He had managed to keep his words to himself, so far. He deflected. He had said that it was just another leader to talk to, like all the others. He had lied.

    But now Eliot burst, exclaiming, ¡°Holy fucking shit she was terrifying! She¡¯s a Witch. I know she is. Like a Skilled Witch. The strongest witch I have ever seen or heard about.¡± He started talking fast, ¡°I never put much truth to the idea that the entire line of royal children and family were descended from dragons, but they have to be! I looked into her eyes and saw the death of all she did not approve.¡±

    Of all the places Mark thought Eliot would have gone, that was not one of them. A descendant of dragons? Was that¡­ like¡­ a real thing? Sure, Mark had heard stories¡­ Also, she was a Witch?

    Mark said, ¡°So, like¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold the fuck up,¡± Sally said. ¡°Dragons and people can mate?¡±

    ¡°Surely not,¡± Mark said, with complete disbelief.

    ¡°A dragonspawn?¡± Isoko asked, understanding something that Mark and Sally didn¡¯t understand at all.

    Everyone rounded on Isoko.

    Eliot exclaimed, ¡°Yes! I¡¯ve heard of them, but I never thought I¡¯d see one! She had to be one, too!¡±

    Sally and Mark just looked at Eliot and Isoko, their words dying in their throats.

    Isoko said, ¡°Let¡¯s never piss her off, and there is no problem.¡±

    ¡°She was fucking terrifying, Isoko,¡± Eliot said, ¡°It was like being glared at by Addavein!¡±

    ¡°Okay. Well¡­ Maybe that is true, in the broadest of ways,¡± Isoko said, ¡°But the dragonspawn myth isn¡¯t a real thing outside of stories¡ª¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Oh that is so untrue, Isoko,¡± Eliot said. ¡°The leaders of Xerkona are dragonspawn.¡±

    Mark was even more lost. Sally seemed lost, too.

    Isoko made a disapproving humming sound, and then said, ¡°Aside from myth¡­ I¡¯m more interested in the whole ¡®Witch¡¯ angle. What did she say? Everything a Witch says and does is part of their wyrd, and the fact that you were included in a private conversation means that she touched you, and now you¡¯re acting in her sort of direction.¡±

    ¡°No no. Wait wait,¡± Mark said. ¡°What¡¯s a dragonspawn?¡±

    ¡°A dragon isn¡¯t always kaiju-sized,¡± Eliot began¡ª

    Isoko made another disapproving sound.

    Eliot rolled his eyes at her, and continued, ¡°Sometimes the union of a person and a demon becomes a person-sized dragon. The histories of the Settlement of Xerkona hint that the prime leaders of the Settlement are a trio of person-sized dragons called the Fates. They¡¯ve been steering the humanity of Daihoon away from certain disaster for centuries, or something like that. They¡¯re more myth than reality, but I¡¯m sure that if they were real then it was people like them that gave birth to the ancestors of some lines of humans. They might even be Second Princess Walaria¡¯s ancestors.¡± Eliot looked at Isoko, saying, ¡°She felt like a kaiju, Isoko. I¡¯m only able to manipulate man made things, but I¡¯m getting a lot better at deciphering the reasons why I can¡¯t manipulate this or that, and the damage a dragon or a kaiju does to the integrity of ¡®made by man¡¯ things is a whole category stronger than normal monster damage. It¡¯s like a flavoring, and Second Princess Walaria has that sort of flavoring. Diluted, for sure. Distant and almost not there at all. But it was still there.¡±

    While Mark was still digesting that¡ª

    Isoko said, ¡°She¡¯s a Witch, though. Those kinds of people can spread their power in truly strange ways. She probably just wyrded herself into feeling like a kaiju.¡±

    Mark had questions, but Isoko seemed subtly excited in that way she got when she talked about magic, so Mark had even more questions.

    Eliot picked that up, too. ¡°You like Witches?¡±

    ¡°Well! ¡­ I mean¡­¡± Isoko had a moment, and then, full of tension, she said, ¡°If we¡¯re ever going to venture out into Endless Daihoon to look for the elves and resurrection magics, then we need some person with truly strong, witch-like Powers. Probably even a Witch. In the histories of how Addashield went to the Moon, to the Demon City Arakino, with Malaqua and others, they had a Witch. The Witch¡¯s name is unknown, but¡ª¡± Isoko lost a lot of what she was going for as she breathed out, simply saying, ¡°If anyone has records of what it took to actually get through Endless Daihoon, it¡¯s Second Princess Walaria Aluatha, or someone close to her. You are in a position to get that sort of classified information if you wanted, Eliot. You should try to get that sort of information.¡±

    Mark felt his heart beat hard, sounding like thunder in his ears.

    Isoko rarely ever brought up her ultimate goals, to venture to Daihoon and see about resurrecting her sister, Riku, but her goals were always there, in the back of her mind.

    Eliot seemed unsure, and probably because he didn¡¯t want to confront Walaria or go anywhere near her. Mark could tell that much; Eliot was terrified of truly strong monsters. He¡¯d be better once they were inside the settlement, though, and behind all of his own Castellan, Hearthswell-based spellwork.

    Sally was heavily conflicted, but Mark had spoken with her in private and she wanted to go for this whole ¡®resurrection magic thing¡¯, too. She didn¡¯t believe it was actually possible, though.

    Mark made a decision. He looked at Eliot, asking, but not really, ¡°Can you get more information about all of that, Eliot?¡±

    Eliot made some rapid decisions, too, saying, ¡°Yeah. I want to ask them about it too, but I¡¯m never talking to Walaria again, if I can help it. But we¡¯re in luck! Walaria is sending at least three Skilled Witches to the settlement. One of them I know is going to help with some hidden Fate-Classed Seers that will be at the settlement with us, another Witch is coming to help some rather amazing alchemist-types that I didn¡¯t know we had, either, and a third one is for Aurora herself. I expect the third Witch will be there for Aurora¡¯s use and to keep an eye on the settlement as a whole, and to personally inform Walaria about whatever happens. I¡¯m sure that someone else besides Walaria knows about how Addashield and Malaqua navigated Endless Daihoon.¡± Eliot¡¯s excitement briefly faltered under the idea of talking to Walaria again, or getting anywhere near the woman, but his excitement returned when he said, ¡°My gods, you guys! There¡¯re so many hidden True Powers here! There¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you should be talking about everything you heard?¡± Isoko asked, interrupting Eliot. ¡°Because¡­ You know. Witches. They got weird powers and they do weird things. Wyrd things. If you were told in any way whatsoever not to share what you¡¯re sharing right now, then do not share what you want to share.¡±

    Eliot frowned a little as he thought.

    Mark didn¡¯t know much about Witches except what he had seen on the screen here and there. Mark asked, ¡°Is that actually a problem, though? Powers have ranges, and unless a Witch is a Seer as well then we¡¯re out of their range¡­ Er. But if a Witch wants to help some Seers, then¡­ I guess they probably have a weirdly long range, too?¡±

    Sally spoke up, ¡°A wyrdly long range.¡±

    Isoko shook her head, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t know about all of that, only that grandma always said that she hated tangling with Witches the most. They were sneaky when it came to everything outside of direct combat, and to treat with Witches like you would treat with supervillains. Direct combat is their biggest weakness, though.¡±

    Eliot waved a hand, saying, ¡°It¡¯s fine! I was never told to not share anything, and you guys gotta know about everything. Reeni Thumb¡ª the Agriculture and Resource Management lady¡ª is something like 250 years old and out of retirement because she expects to put the beat down onto Addavein, and then pull him apart into Addashield and Kanda, and then put the beat down on Addashield after she rescues him! She hasn¡¯t gotten far with it at all, but she¡¯s done some chimera experiments to try and validate what that demon Leash told you, Mark. She turned a fish and a chicken into a chimera and then pulled them apart again, and they didn¡¯t die for a while. Hours, maybe!¡±

    Mark had to sit down, so he sat down.

    Sally seemed dumbfounded as she asked, ¡°So that shit was real? People are actually looking into it?¡±

    ¡°They were looking into it months ago, Sally,¡± Mark found himself saying. He asked Eliot, ¡°A fish chicken?¡±

    ¡°Not much success, from what I understood,¡± Eliot said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like I got to ask questions and speak. Aurora was mostly talking like an underling, giving protocol-derived answers to Walaria¡¯s questions. She kept saying things like, ¡®we thank you for your generosity¡¯ when Walaria said she¡¯d send more people our way, but Walaria spoke like an older sister, or cousin. Like she was all happy that Aurora was finally headed off to college, or she had found a man to marry.¡±

    Sally sat down, thinking, while Mark got to thinking and Isoko looked away, her mind elsewhere¡ª

    Isoko turned and asked, ¡°What did Aurora thank Walaria for? Specifically.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°For her generosity.¡± He excitedly added, ¡°So Walaria asked about the pillars of the settlement project, which is Daihoon code for superheroes and such, and Aurora said we had 23 of them and many proto-pillars. And then Aurora talked about the proto-pillars most¡ª You came up, Mark. Aurora talked about you being adamantium blooded.¡±

    Mark felt a spike of worry that rapidly faded. He nodded, then said, ¡°Okay. Thanks for telling me.¡±

    Sally¡¯s face turned dark as she glared. But she said nothing.

    ¡°Who are the proto pillars?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a multi-man! Apparently the guy wants to be a construction and tech worker and he¡¯s already on site and Aurora never told me about him until right then, and Walaria was surprised about us having a multi man. She tried to buy the guy¡¯s contract with the settlement, but he¡¯s staying with us.¡± Eliot grinned. ¡°A multiman is gonna make building a lot easier, because one person¡¯s training means a thousand people being trained, but at the same time, one person¡¯s faults means a thousand faults, and¡­¡±

    Eliot spoke for a long while about people that Mark had not met, or never realized just how strong they were. Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure why a multiman would ever be a good idea in any sort of working situation, but Mark was probably worried about the magnification of one person¡¯s faults spread out over a thousand people, more than he was happy about one person¡¯s skills spread out in a thousand ways.

    But as for the other people Eliot spoke about... It was dead simple to understand why some guy who could duplicate items would be a Big Deal.

    ¡°How does that even work?¡± Sally asked. ¡°He can duplicate magical items?¡± She looked to Mark. ¡°Like adamantium?¡±

    Isoko added, ¡°That means he has mana copying abilities, right? Because magical items need mana crystals and mana crystals are mana?¡±

    Mark found himself saying, ¡°He¡¯ll probably come to me if he wants to go that route, but I doubt it works that way at all. If the guy just wanted to be rich then he¡¯d already be copying adamantium. He probably can¡¯t copy stuff like that.¡±

    Sally relaxed.

    Isoko hummed, then said, ¡°Probably correct.¡±

    Eliot was grinning as he exclaimed, ¡°I have no idea how it works! We could probably figure out who he is, though. Aurora said their names, but I forgot. It¡¯s him and his Alchemist sister on board, and she wants to be a healer while he wants to be rich. There¡¯s only so many people it could be, and there¡¯s a settlement registry that is open to the public.¡± He asked, ¡°So let¡¯s do some digging to find out all of the secrets of our neighbors!¡± He added, ¡°Or, if you¡¯d prefer to keep the surprises going, then I can do all of that on my own.¡±

    Mark had a moment. Isoko and Sally had their own moments, too.

    Mark eventually spoke up, ¡°I probably already met all of them, but I probably brushed them off, which was wrong of me. Let¡¯s do some sleuthing so I can at least pretend like I didn¡¯t brush them off when I see them again.¡±

    Eliot grinned. ¡°Sounds good to me!¡±

    With no objections from Sally or Isoko, Eliot spun some screens into existence on the wall. Names and faces populated the screens, some of whom Mark had seen before, but not really interacted with. But they were his neighbors now, and they all already knew who he was, so, Mark supposed, it was time to figure out who they were, too.

 145

    Addavein flew in the auroras of the sky, rainbow threads of reality catching on his wings like pieces of more-than-ephemeral fog. The waters of the Meteor Sea were so far below that the clouds above the waters were like swirls of icing on a blue cake. The few hoverships plying those clouds, as a boat would ply the waves further below, were practically invisible. Most of them were actually invisible, as well. The visible ones were more than likely nuclear bombs set out for kaiju to try and eat. Those sorts of traps usually worked well enough, killing one or two curious and stupid kaiju every other month.

    The true bomb boats were clearly indicated with that yellow and black circular symbol that meant nuclear danger, so humans mostly left them alone. Mostly. The people that messed with them usually didn¡¯t survive their first encounter with a nuclear bomb blowing up in their face.

    Addavein set his wings and steadied his course, and then he got to scrying the Grey Whale, sending his mind and vision far, far below, to see what everyone was up to. Of course there were wards to work around, each of the magical defenses crafted with multivariable schematics, and then there were the divine wards set up by Hearthswell¡¯s power, and, to a lesser extent, Freyala and all of the rest, but slipping past those was not especially difficult. Not anymore. Not since Addashield had become Addavein.

    Addavein was pretty sure he was his own person.

    After waking up and being confused about being Addashield in a new body, Addavein had become himself again. It just took a few days of wakefulness to rid himself of the dream of being Addashield. The feelings of disconnect were greatest right after waking, and he did not like that.

    So, the obvious solution was to never sleep.

    Addavein chuckled at that thought. No wonder dragons didn¡¯t like to sleep, aside from the usual weakness that happened when they slumbered. While sleeping, and in the hours upon waking, there was no other time in a dragon¡¯s life when they were weaker. Often, the only way to kill a dragon was to hunt them and wait for them to sleep.

    Such a dragon hunt could last months, sometimes. Unless the dragon found out they were being hunted, of course. Then the hunt usually ended rather abruptly and definitively on the side of the dragon.

    Addavein spied where he desired.

    He looked in on Aurora Valen, who had killed so many different dragons in her life. She was the premier dragon hunter of her generation, and who often did not wait until they slept.

    He looked in on Reeni Thumb, who looked over her shoulder, knowing she was being spied on but unable to trace the scry back to its source. Addavein huffed a little laugh at that.

    Addavein looked in on Mark, who was doing his own sorts of spying on all of his new neighbors¡­ Hmm. Looked like he had told a few people that he was adamantium blooded. Well¡­ They didn¡¯t seem to be making plans to kidnap him, which was rather nice. Honestly, Addavein had expected a kidnapping to happen sooner or later, and if not Mark, then Mark¡¯s little friend, Eliot. With the platinum girl¡¯s resistances and the giant girl¡¯s strength, Mark was making a nice little team for himself.

    Addavein approved.

    But let¡¯s look a bit deeper. What are Mark¡¯s current goals¡­

    Forging, farming fish for meat, and learning magic? Eventually heading to Endless Daihoon for resurrection magics? All good goals, really. Addavein was a little miffed that Mark didn¡¯t want to ask him how to survive Endless Daihoon, because that was the most obvious solution, but it was admirable for him to seek out other sources.

    It put a damper on Addavein trying to insert himself into the settlement, to become a Hero of Humanity once again, but¡­ that was fine.

    Addavein spied for a good while, looking for ways in which he could make himself known as a Hero once again, but he was already seeing a few good options.

    Aurora¡¯s mother was still a dragon cultist after all these years, which was a good option to pursue, but that seemed messy.

    Honestly, they were prepared against Addavein in every possible way¡ª

    There was a person standing on his nose.

    Addavein sneezed, and Reeni Thumb reappeared on his back. With a twist and a shove, Addavein pulled off a fleck of adamantium and lifted Reeni into the air, to stand before him, upon a platform of black, like a mote of dust before a hurricane.

    Addavein frowned.

    And then Addavein cut the air between them, severing the connection that Reeni had used to appear before him like that. A thread of magic broke, and Reeni turned indistinct. She remained, though. She was too strong to be cut off that easily.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come to me, Reeni. I could have killed you, and that would have made me sad.¡±

    Reeni scowled. ¡°That¡¯s all you have to say to me, you old bastard?¡±

    Addavein snorted. ¡°Bah! I¡¯m barely a year old!¡±

    ¡°If you were truly ¡®just a year old¡¯ then I wouldn¡¯t have been able to jump to you, because I wouldn¡¯t have had a connection to you, at all,¡± said the small woman, with the strong glare. ¡°You¡¯ve changed, of course. You¡¯ve become something different. But you¡¯re still mostly Addashield, and that connection remains. This is going to be easier than I thought, especially if you want to cooperate.¡± With an arched eyebrow, Reeni asked, ¡°Would you want to cooperate?¡±

    Addavein was incredulous for too many reasons to care to consider. But mostly: Was she truly asking if he would submit to soul magics?

    Truly?

    A dark rage flowed through Addavein.

    Perhaps, a lesser being would have argued with the small woman. They would have decried the small woman¡¯s attempt at corralling; at controlling. Like Addashield had once done, they would have talked down the threat that Reeni now posed.

    But Addavein was not his ¡®father¡¯.

    Addavein did not need to suffer old rivals and sometimes-lovers, and their attempts to take his power for their own.

    Addavein Spoke,

    ¡°I rebuke you, Reeni Thumb.¡±

    Reeni¡¯s foggy form splashed away like so many glimmers of light, and Addavein was alone again.

    Addavein spat at nothing in particular, and then he wheeled toward the east, putting the Grey Whale behind him.

    His original goal of becoming a Hero of Humanity again would take some doing, since the Aluatha Empire was rather solidly set against him gaining any sort of foothold in the new settlement. There were other things to be done, anyway. When the settlement needed a real hero, to help against a real threat, then Addavein would show up, but until then¡­

    Addavein flew east until he was above the ocean between continents.

    A little while and a lot higher, and Addavein hovered in the sky above Dragon¡¯s Nest.

    Five mountains hovered above the clouds, above the ocean, each of them crowned with the power of a different dragon¡¯s soul. The ancients that had created this land were long, long gone, but this was still the place to be if a dragon wanted to speak to other dragons. It was neutral ground.

    Currently, the place was empty.

    Each island simply hovered above the ocean, high in the sky, above the clouds, each of them looking more like a resting space than a real mountain.

    Addavein landed on one of the islands, and the mountain tried to kill him with its touch, but Addavein passed that small test and the mountain simply hovered.

    Addavein waited.

    Eventually, two dragons showed up.

    Addavein had not known who would show up, but he had not suspected these two. He scoffed a little as the pair of them flew in from opposite directions, each of them unwilling to actually be near each other at all, unless, apparently, Addavein was here.

    Addavein lifted his head and laughed, a booming echo that passed across the sky, followed by the words, ¡°Elkatracks and Quatrok! You two bastards are the ones to show? Does my presence not warrant Farhowla¡¯s appraisal?¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Elkatracks was a brown dragon with bronze highlights. She had been alive since long before Addavein had ever been an archmage, for thousands of years, actually. She had always stayed far away from human affairs, except when it concerned dragons. When the two spheres of life crossed, she was there, taking young, idiot dragons away from the danger of humans, or deciding to let the young dragons die to their idiocy for thinking that they could kill humans without reprisal.

    Quatrok was a blue-scaled imperialist who desired to be a tyrant to humanity, and who wanted all demon Contracts to only produce dragons. He didn¡¯t approve of any archmages. Consequently, Addashield had crossed spells with him many times in the past, especially in the time of Bloodmaw, and the Red War. When the Red War ended, the blue bastard had managed to distance himself from the repercussions of siding with that ancient red dragon.

    This was the first time Quatrok had made an appearance in hundreds of years, as far as Addavein knew.

    Farhowla was nowhere to be seen.

    Gedahowla the Bright¡¯s crowned successor was never allowed to ascend to power because Addashield and the combined forces of humanity ousted all dragons from power, all across Daihoon and everywhere else, during the Reveal. The dragon still commanded a great deal of influence among other dragons, though¡­ Or at least Farhowla had commanded respect, the last time Addashield had heard about him, which, to be fair, had been 25 years ago.

    ¡­ Was Farhowla dead?

    Addavein glared lightly, asking them both, ¡°Or has Farhowla met an untimely fate?¡±

    Elkatracks landed on a mountain to Addavein¡¯s left, gripping the stone with talons, her wings shining bronze in the auroras of the sky, as she said, ¡°You should abandon your attempts at humanity, Addavein. Nothing good comes from humans mixing with dragons. Come to the Northern Crossing with us. Leave Daihoon behind. Take your rightful place among your new people.¡±

    Addavein raised his head, ignoring Elkatracks¡¯ pedestrian attempts to dissuade him from his course of action. ¡°Dragons have no culture. What would I do in the Crossing? Hide from the Bigs? Hunt kaiju for fun? Boring. I want to be a part of humanity because humans make art and beautiful things.¡±

    And he was still a human, on the inside.

    Elkatracks said nothing.

    Quatrok snorted blue lightning that sparked across his body, arcing off of his wing tips onto the mountain under his grip. ¡°If you want to lead the charge and become the world emperor that we know you could be, then lead the charge, Addavein. But don¡¯t hide your will to power under such inane things like these ¡®superhero shows¡¯ that you bolstered in the wake of the Reveal. Simply kill those that oppose the power of dragons, and become the ruler of all. Remake it all, once again. We would follow you into that new world.¡±

    Addavein felt his scales ripple, his spines tingling at Quatrok¡¯s words. Addavein had to admit there was a certain sort of allure to crushing everything that he did not like¡­

    And yet¡­

    Elkatracks stared at Addavein, her bright bronze eyes full of worry and calculation.

    Quatrok merely stared, hiding all of his true thoughts behind craggy, scarred blue scales.

    Addavein grinned. ¡°What makes you think I am not already on that path?¡±

    Elkatracks stilled, her eyes flicking from Addavein, to Quatrok.

    Quatrok glared, his previous levity vanishing. For a brief moment, Addavein remembered being a small person, staring up at Quatrok¡¯s blue crag of a maw, as lightning poured around Addashield and killed his retainers in the Red War. But Addavein wasn¡¯t Addashield, anymore. Addavein could fight and kill Quatrok right now, if he truly wanted.

    Addashield could never have claimed the same capability. Addashield had been forced to flee from Quatrok more than once.

    Quatrok asked, ¡°Where does your supposed path lead you, Addavein? Where does it lead us?¡± And then he asked the question that actually mattered, ¡°Why did you come to Dragon Rest, to call forth those who would speak?¡±

    Addavein said, ¡°As my father once did, during the Reveal, I will be remaking the world once again, Quatrok, but it won¡¯t be a world of empires and archmages. You only ever got a glimpse of Earth before we drove you back across the Veil. How much have you seen since then? How much can you see, when you hide in Endless Daihoon all the time?¡±

    Quatrok roared, his wings flashing out, thunder rolling and lightning striking the sky. ¡°I would have had everything if not for your progenitor!¡±

    ¡°So you hide and whine, and that is all you can do,¡± Addavein declared.

    Quatrok glared, silent and hateful.

    Elkatracks asked, ¡°What is your goal, Addavein?¡±

    Addavein smiled, saying, ¡°Your scrying should have plucked out the answers to that already, Elkatracks. Just because you dislike what you have seen, does not make my goal hidden.¡± Addavein said, ¡°To be clear as crystal: I am going to be a superhero, and all of my future fights are going to be for cameras and fame, because all large threats will be handled. I will rip Thrashtalon from power, I will end the threat of demons forever, I will minimize the creation of monsters, and I will make it so that no person has to fear what lies beyond the walls of cities, anymore. I will raise the dead to new life, and I will kill the unkillable demons forevermore.¡± As Elkatracks and Quatrok tried to digest that, Addavein continued, ¡°Eventually, I will even figure out how to gain a separate, human-sized body, so I can more joyfully enjoy my new life as an immortal superhero in retirement. Perhaps I will even raise a family that I never got to have back when I was human.¡± He Looked at Quatrok, adding, ¡°And I will ensure that old threats can never harm, ever again, because I will have dismantled those threats in every way possible.¡±

    Quatrok spat lightning at Addavein and Addavein was ready for it. A flick of power grounded the lightning into the sky all around them. Quatrok huffed and leapt away.

    Addavein would have said something to the blue bastard, but the blue bastard was gone soon enough. Addavein turned toward Elkatracks. ¡°What is your response?¡±

    ¡°Humanity is a doomed species, forever tied to smallness and death. Aligning yourself with them is foolish, and so, you should abandon that foolish pursuit. Your progenitor was wise enough to know this, for I have made no secret how humans and dragons should not mingle, and your progenitor listened to what I had to say. And so, I will not overly attempt to dissuade you from your course of action. But I will say this: Humanity is where we come from. It is not who we are, Addavein. Abandon the home where you were born and grow into your truest self in Endless Daihoon. There is more power and growth and challenge to face out there. This tiny speck of a planet is nothing.¡± Elkatracks declared, ¡°Leave the demons to their playthings. Join us in Eternity.¡±

    Addavein shook his head. ¡°Even after nearly 80 years of growth and establishment of further growth¡­ Even after the Reveal and all that came afterward, you still hold to this idea that humanity is worthless, Elkatracks. I never understood that about you.¡± He added, ¡°Even after the Red War, and after the triumphs of humanity, you still¡­¡± Addavein did not want to have this argument with her, so he stopped himself. With a heavy tone, he said, ¡°You were never directly against humanity. I suppose that is worth enough respect that I will not harm you now, or ever. But that one. Quatrok. If he should show again, I will murder him. It is what he deserves. Tell him that.¡±

    Elkatracks sighed. ¡°Do what you want, even if it is the wrong thing to do. That is the power you have gained now that you are beyond your humanity.¡±

    Elkatracks lifted into the air and flew away at a sedate pace. A normal pace.

    Five minutes later the brown-bronze dragon vanished beyond a density of auroras.

    Addavein had been comfortable with Quatrok¡¯s attack, because that had been expected. Elkatracks¡¯ soft words of condemnation, like it was only a matter of time before Addavein gave up his humanity forever, struck a lot harder...

    But, on second thought, what kind of kaijushit was that!

    Dragons ruled all of Daihoon for most of the last 5000 years! They were very in-touch with their humanity, and some of them even tried to breed with humans they loved. Those kinds of dragons were not the kinds of dragon that Addashield had become, in his transformation into Addavein, but¡­

    ¡­ Hmm.

    The Fates of Xerkona might be willing to speak with him, to direct him where he should go next, to accomplish his goals? They hadn¡¯t wanted to talk to him yet, but that was months ago. Maybe something had changed.

    Addavein hummed in thought once again, and then he took to wing, headed east, toward the Settlement of Xerkona. If the Fates were even willing to meet with him at all, they¡¯d probably send out a representative to speak with him, when he got close. Of course, it might not be time to meet with them, so maybe Addavein would just dick around for a while... Kill some kaiju? Sure. Something fun!

    He was sure that the settlement would need some big help against a big threat soon enough. Not at first, of course. Aurora was on the job, as much as anyone could be on the job. But eventually, when the defensive systems they constructed began to relax, as people always did, something big would happen and they wouldn¡¯t be fully prepared for it.

    Aurora would likely be purposefully relaxing, just so that all of her new people could benefit from direct exposure to the horrors of Daihoon.

 146

    The Shine wound south and east, before it turned around on itself toward the west, and then north, for a good 3 kilometers, before it turned south once again. It was a great big bend in the river that mirrored the Mississippi River back on Earth. In this particular place, on Daihoon, is where the settlement would happen.

    Or rather, that¡¯s where the ports would be. Eventually.

    For now, the settlement would happen about 5 kilometers to the east, up a tributary and high above the flood plains. It was a good spot, covered in tall trees and with half of it mostly flat. The eastern half was raised slightly, on a hilly sort of area that was perfect for higher lands, in case kaiju came through the Shine to the west and spilled water everywhere.

    There were more than a few lakes out there by the Shine that were more like water-filled footprints than natural lakes. It was kinda scary. They were very old, very large footprints, because they were fully overgrown, so it was not that bad to see such sights out there.

    The land was rather pristine, but it was still full of monsters.

    Mark held on the side of the railing of the viewing platform, looking down at the land alongside hundreds of other people. A lot of people were pointing at the land, smiling and talking about how they wanted a house ¡®right there!¡¯ and how ¡®that¡¯s where the shopping district will be!¡¯ and then other people spoke of how that stuff wouldn¡¯t happen for a while because they¡¯d all be living in a stuffy castle to start. Those downers got lightly boo¡¯d, and then there was laughter. Some of the more martially inclined people, who had clearly become friends in the last 13 days of travel, were talking about how ¡®you can¡¯t live there! I¡¯m living there!¡¯ and then the challenges for land went out with calls for duels and spars.

    Sally leaned down and whispered to Mark, ¡°We¡¯re going for a flying castle, yeah?¡±

    Mark smiled wide. ¡°Eventually! If we don¡¯t like our neighbors, we can move.¡±

    The Grey Whale flew high above the settlement site, above the tributary leading to the Shine, and Mark tried to make out what had been done down there, so far. Not much, from what he could tell. There should have been 20 or 30 people already living down there, making a go of it in the wilds, prepping the space for the arrival of the Grey Whale today. They had been down there for the last 2 months, according to what Eliot had said.

    But Mark saw no signs of people.

    No smoke from chimneys, no cleared land.

    Mark would have asked Eliot what was going on, but Eliot was with Aurora and others right now, all of them getting ready for the landing¡­ or whatever it was they were doing. So Mark brought out Quark again and looked through his augmented reality view to try and understand the settlement site.

    Quark helpfully marked the signs of settlement with colored dots.

    A tree without its top over there, signifying a corner of the city wall. A giant boulder sitting on a pile of rocks, signifying another corner of the city wall. Overall, the city wall was an oval but with straight-line walls. The proposed lake site was an area of the twisting tributary that wound back and forth over lowlands, making a marsh. They¡¯d have to excavate it to make a lake, but it already looked like lowlands¡­

    Now where were the people who were supposed to be there?

    Mark moved Quark back and forth, looking over the site. He couldn¡¯t see any human presence in the area¡ª

    Oh. There it was.

    There was a hunting lodge down below some trees far to the east, beyond the proposed city walls... Or at least that¡¯s where Quark said it was. He had marked the location with a little blue house image. Mark moved his phone in and out of the way, trying to see what Quark was seeing, but he couldn¡¯t see the location at all. Quark couldn¡¯t actually see it either; he just knew where the lodge was based on whatever information he pulled from the Grey Whale¡¯s servers.

    The lodge was probably under the same hiding magics as the Grand Port.

    Mark asked Sally and Isoko, ¡°Are many things hidden by those hiding magics?¡±

    Sally looked to Isoko, saying, ¡°I only knew about the Grand Port.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Small things are easier to hide, I think?¡± She shook her head, adding, ¡°But no. Those magics attract certain monsters¡­ or at least that¡¯s what I heard. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Moments later, the intercom bleeped and Aurora¡¯s voice filled the air.

    ¡°Attention! We have cleared the area in preparation for first clearing. What will happen now is I will rip up the land, clearing it, with further instructions to follow. Thanks to Eliot Cybersong, I expect our forward castle to be built within the next 12 hours. Will Eliot Cybersong¡¯s team please report to the nearest guard station.¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Mark pushed away from the railing, exclaiming, ¡°Were we supposed to¡ª¡±

    Isoko was right there with him, moving through the crowd, saying, ¡°I asked him three times if we should be there!¡±

    Sally followed.

    A few people chuckled beside them¡ª

    And then a great ripping sound cascaded through the world, and Mark glanced backward, just in time to see rainbows reaching down past the viewing area, past the crowd. Boulders and trees churned into the sky, and Mark winced, annoyed that he didn¡¯t get to see the spectacle directly. Other people had filled up the railing, and more were pushing in, trying to see Aurora rip up the world.

    Mark soon found an army guy, or he was found by the army guy, he wasn¡¯t sure. It was Carl, and Carl joked about how the show was only getting started.

    Within a minute Mark, Isoko, and Sally were down at forward zone A, which was a Skill platform at the front bottom of the ship that was open all around. It was basically catwalks over open air.

    This was a much better angle to watch Aurora work.

    The sound of churning land was incredible. It almost hurt to hear boulders and land breaking.

    Mark looked down past the catwalks to the land below, as Aurora stood at the precipice of the catwalk up ahead, also looking down, her Skill stretched below like a great rainbow flex. Her Supreme Telekinesis wasn¡¯t actually light-based at all. It was reality that had been so strongly twisted that light and gravity and everything else simply crushed at her touch.

    Mark stared down at the site for the settlement, his mind going back to when Addavein had summoned him to Daihoon, all those months ago. The dragon had been in the sky, and he had said some shit, and then he left like the passing of a thousand jets. The roar of his wings had caused the land to rip and tear, for boulders to be cast aside like so many pebbles, for trees to break and twist like snapping toothpicks.

    Aurora accomplished much the same, but on purpose and with precision.

    Mark mostly saw how the ground pounded and flattened, and how the tributary widened in the middle, and water began to flow into the depression left by Aurora, and how the trees blasted outward and stacked into piles. How the fuck did she have such a large range? How did she support herself? Mark¡¯s mind whirled, because Aurora¡¯s Supreme Telekinesis was a Shaper Skill, after all. She needed anchors in order to create so much destruction in such a large area, just like how Mark needed anchors on the ground with his adamantium, in order to float above where he had anchored.

    Mark saw the anchors.

    Aurora¡¯s anchors were kilometers to the left and right; they looked like rainbow twists holding onto a hillside, a river bank, and probably more places besides. Everything was bright and full of transformation down below, but those anchors were solid flexes of rainbows so dark they were almost black¡ª

    The sound was incredible, and then it was gone, and Mark realized Aurora was saying something.

    Mark looked up at the woman, who was sweating lightly. Mark instinctively Unioned with her for strength, weakness, and purity/impurity. Aurora brightened, seeming to relax and seem better.

    Aurora smiled, saying, ¡°Thank you, but I was saying there are a few monsters down there that need killing. They were specifically left in place months ago because they were strong and they killed everything else, but now they need to go, and you need to prove yourself as powerful to everyone else watching. This was the scenario that I was planning to give my brother so he could prove himself, but now I¡¯m giving it to you, because of your unique circumstances.¡±

    Mark¡¯s heart thrummed with sudden anticipation, joy, worry, and surprise, all at the same time. And then he glanced down, past the catwalks, down to the center of the destruction, where something began to lift out of the center of the marshy and pulverized future lake bed. The monster was dinosaur-like, but with long arms and a long tail, and it lifted its two heads out of the broken land, roaring a challenge to all.

    It was hundreds of meters away, but Mark could tell it was the size of a house. Maybe even larger.

    Aurora was talking about how the monster was at the height of C-grade, but it was a simple-type beast, so it was probably at the limit of his capabilities, but it was expected for him to be able to handle threats like this all the time on his own. Here was his chance to do exactly that.

    Mark turned toward Eliot, Isoko, and Sally, all of whom were standing closer to the door that led down here, to the assault platform. He smiled, flickering out his 3700 grams of adamantium into handlebars and wide almost-blankets that caught on the wind whipping through the space. He anchored himself so he didn¡¯t fly away, as he held the handles out to his team.

    With a solid voice, Mark asked, ¡°Ready for battle?¡±

    Isoko and Sally both grinned, each of them grabbing their own offered handles fast, while Eliot swirled a bunch of metals off of the nearby walls to hold onto the handle for him, creating a pole with holds for his hands and feet. Mark was proud, at that moment.

    Sally tested the floating handlebar, but Mark held strong, and she didn¡¯t leap out of the platform yet. She said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna need a sword.¡±

    Eliot hopped onto his seat and Mark easily held his weight, as Eliot said, ¡°I¡¯ll make a tree into a club! There¡¯s a lot of resources down there.¡±

    Isoko was looking down as she said, ¡°I see smaller monsters coming out of the muck, so I¡¯ll need a sword, too.¡±

    Mark felt a swell of surety as he heard his team make rapid plans, and as he connected them and the whole world with Union. He said, ¡°Five seconds.¡±

    They only needed three.

    Mark lifted off of the catwalk, taking Isoko, Eliot, and Sally with him.

    The world whipped by, the ship too far away to return, the ground rising below. Mark spread his blankets of adamantium wide, grabbing the air, slowing their descent more than enough, as he repositioned his whole team in a better weight distribution for a controlled fall.

    He had never done this before with all of them, but he had done this before with just Isoko and Eliot. It was usually Eliot on top, Mark in the middle, and Isoko at the bottom, as she was already turning Full Platinum and her weight shot up to nearly 400 kilos. Sally was easy enough to add to the distribution, slotting her at the same height as Isoko. Mark grabbed the air and slowed their descent from a rapid, killing-plummet, to a controlled fall.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Below them, the bipedal alligator rex saw them coming. It roared.

    It was as big as a house with long arms and legs and a tail that slashed the ground, carving tracks in the broken mud and muck. All around the broken land, in the muck and the broken plant matter, mounds stirred. Maws and claws pulled out into the open, revealing themselves as smaller alligator rexes, each of them angry and ready to kill, each of them the size of a person.

    Sally and Isoko slammed into the ground, both of them Tactile Telekinesis¡¯ing on the marshy, broken land, holding themselves above the muck. Mark landed to the side, already piercing down into the ground, holding himself above it all, transitioning his blanket-like adamantium layers into swords and caltrops.

    Eliot landed on the muck and the muck turned into a defensive platform, stone rising out of the destruction as a solid platform. There weren¡¯t even holes in the construction, as Mark would have expected in a monster-occupied-land situation, but Mark rapidly reevaluated the monsterness of this land in the wake of watching Eliot rapidly form a defense position, lifting the land out of the muck. He created a solid platform five meters in diameter, with lights emerging from the ground, indicating the distance toward threats.

    Aurora had absolutely pulverized this land and made it ¡®man made¡¯, hadn¡¯t she.

    Wooden swords popped out of the ground near Isoko and Sally, one 2 meter long straight-sword for Isoko, and one absolute beast of a tree-like baseball bat for Sally.

    Gator rex prime charged their way, and all the little ones followed the larger one in battle.

    With four meters of thigh-thick tree gripped by its base, Sally launched out into the muck, the enormity of her Giant Strength allowing her a solid grip on the land, and on her weapon. She slapped a small gator-rex at the larger one, and the larger one clawed at the smaller one, roaring as it did so. The small monster skipped across the muck, disoriented, but alive. A big slash from the big monster had only knocked the small one aside. It roared, and all the little ones roared with it.

    Mark softly said what they all already knew, ¡°They¡¯re defensive specialists.¡±

    As the little ones came on, Sally batted away two more with two rapid swings, striking one of them at the big guy again but the second went wide. The big guy slashed at the ground as it charged across the land, directly at Sally.

    Isoko hung back, ensuring that Eliot was protected, while also Unioning with everything in the area, her heart and breath beating with protection magics.

    Eliot twisted his fresh platform into an almost-walled area, with walls a meter tall and a few meters thick, ensuring that everything coming his way would have to get through solid rock to do so. The rock here was not tier 0 like it was on Earth, so it might actually provide some real, baseline level of defense. Lights glowed on the edges of the platforms, turning red when the smaller gatorrexes were near enough to leap the distance and get inside.

    Isoko moved toward the nearest red zone, slipping toward the enemy with a speed twice as fast as any normal human. She tried to flick her blade through a leaping gator, but the gator¡¯s skin was tough as fuck, and she only managed to connect with it, her platinum-coated wooden sword flexing and then sending the monster back into the muck.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Isoko whispered, surprised she hadn¡¯t cut the monster.

    Mark floated, his heart thrumming with darkness that seeped out of his skin in lightning-like veins, connecting him to everything. He hadn¡¯t done much, yet, but he was about to, because this was not going to be a normal fight. This had to be a show. Not a normal show, either, with back and forth and drawing it out for the camera. This had to be a show of power.

    Eliot, Isoko, and Sally all knew what was coming, and what Mark could have done already, but Mark had wanted to wait for Eliot to show his speed at building, and how well his building held up to monsters, for Isoko to show her capability at protecting someone, and Sally to show her strength.

    The giant gator rex roared at Sally as it ran at her, its clawed hands scrabbling on muck as it charged on arms and legs that were several meters long. Its body towered overhead, even over Sally¡¯s 8 feet of height. Sally responded with a roar of her own, golden light inundating her big bat, the monster almost upon her but not quite close enough.

    The smaller monsters focused on the new land in their midst, three of them charging over the embankment Eliot had built and charging at him.

    Mark would wait until Isoko and Sally had gotten their hits in.

    Isoko got in the monsters¡¯ way and this time she carved off a head, through a chest, and then pierced through thick scales, into one of the monster¡¯s hearts, the monster dying almost instantly. They bled out onto the ground and the lights on the ground began to falter, now that they were touched by monsters.

    Mark teased Isoko, ¡°You figured out how to break their defense, huh!¡±

    Isoko declared, ¡°Of course I did!¡±

    Eliot whispered in the air, through some hovering cameras that he had made even before they had fallen to the ground, ¡°Mark.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°We¡¯re fine. Sally still needs to get her hit in.¡±

    It was perfect timing for him to say that, which he had done on purpose for Eliot¡¯s cameras.

    Sally roared as the monster¡¯s claws grabbed at her, as she spun away, evading a full grab attack. Golden light exploded from each scratch against her leathers, the light flowing to her bat, and then her bat swung down. It was the cracking of a glacier. The smacking of a 30 ton boulder against a mountainside. The sound of thunder and golden lightning.

    The big gator rex thonked to the ground, roaring in hate even as it rapidly gathered itself back together, scrabbling at the ground, roaring¡ª

    It was time.

    Mark brain-Unioned with the ideas of adamant and weakness.

    Black lightning cracked through the world in every direction, touching every monster and drilling past every defense like it wasn¡¯t even there, like the monsters were simple plants instead of middling-to-high grade threats. He took all of their strengths and gave them weakness in turn. That was the first step.

    Mark also beat his heart with a Union of vein integrity and vein decay.

    That was all it really took.

    The monsters toppled. They breathed out foaming blood into the muck and the mud, and they died, while Mark spread his lightning into the mud, killing everything that hid below. Baby gator rexes died. Smaller monsters died. The plants, the bugs, the fish, the birds; everything died.

    Everything perished for 500 meters in every direction, except for Mark, Isoko, Eliot, and Sally.

    The big gator was mostly dead, but only because Mark purposefully allowed him his life. For now.

    It would die soon enough.

    Sally walked over to the monster, lifted her bat, and said, ¡°Death to all monsters,¡± as she swung with golden radiance.

    The gator rex exploded in decayed gore, with Sally as ground center for the red fountain.

    For a moment, gore rained.

    Sally stood there, blinking. Surprised.

    She turned. ¡°They fucking explode?!¡±

    Mark smiled, saying, ¡°Only when I focus on weakening them,¡± which was mostly true. Mark had needed to make a show, after all. With a bit of concentration, Mark flickered with a Union of purity/impurity, and Sally stood clean. Mark moved his attention to the greyed, dead land all around them. All of the gore began to evaporate from the blighted land, and the blight began to recede, grey and gore giving way to green moss. Mark said, ¡°Not so bad when you can clean up this easily, though!¡±

    Sally held up her tree-sized bat, watching as it started to grow moss and then small mushrooms and flowers. She smiled a little as she slammed the bat into the ground, leaving it to grow¡ª

    Mark had been ignoring the vectors looking down at them from above, but now one of those vectors fell to the ground and landed a few meters away, touching down with the lightest of touches.

    Aurora stood on Eliot¡¯s platform with Mark, Isoko, and Eliot, saying, ¡°Good show. Now comes the much better part. Building!¡± She added, ¡°Please stay with Eliot for the remainder of everything as we have previously discussed, keeping him strong with Union, and¡­¡±

    There were instructions.

    Mark followed them.

    Mark mostly hung out to the sides with Isoko and Sally as Eliot did his thing, beginning with flattening the land and calling out when something needed to be turned ¡®man made¡¯. Sally got another bat soon enough, while Mark and Isoko acted as trash removers, turning plant matter and dead things into food for trees that they grew in designated forest spaces.

    Aurora, Tulo Khava, many other Builder Guild people, and soon, thousands of people, all began working right alongside Eliot and each other.

    There were stone shapers and water witches, Farmers of Verdago who made farmland on the downhill side of the tributary running through the space, Castellans of Hearthswell who worked on the walls and on stuff here and there below the ground, and then there were the brawnies unloading things from Grey Whale¡¯s cargo holds. Big piles of stuff began to stack up on solid stone foundations. Kandon and other warriors made hunting plans around big monitors that were hooked up to scanning systems that had found threats further abroad that needed to be killed. Hunting teams went out, but Mark, Isoko, and Sally stayed with Eliot.

    It was amazing to watch the bare bones of a city spring up within 4 hours.

    A big wall was the most necessary thing, followed by warriors killing things beyond that wall and anything inside the wall, too, while a castle fit for a population of 10,000 came next. The stone shapers made most of the forward castle, but Eliot was soon walking stone corridors and turning them into hallways.

    Everything was blocky and utilitarian, and Eliot was making 90% of it, but it was amazing to watch.

    Mark marveled at his friend.

    ¡°I¡¯m really glad I¡¯m here,¡± Mark said, softly.

    Isoko giggled, saying, ¡°Me, too.¡±

    ¡°Holy fuck this is fun!¡± Eliot said, smiling under the sun.

    But Sally¡¯s eyes were watery as she saw Eliot put the finishing touches on a giant water fountain outside of the blocky castle. It was a basic fountain, but it was in the middle of an empty town square, in the middle of an empty land, waiting to be filled with buildings and houses and all sorts of things.

    Sally softly said, ¡°I wish Arana could have met you guys.¡±

    Mark reached over and grabbed Sally¡¯s hand, holding her tight. She gripped back, smiled a little, and that seemed to be enough, for now.

 147

    Tartu Solari dashed across the surface of the mudflats, under the overcast sky.

    The gator-rex roared and chased, slashing at the ground as it ran, mud splashing everywhere.

    Mud squelched under Tartu¡¯s feet, the enchantments on his boots and belt the only thing keeping him upright. Mud was omnipresent. In his eyes and in his mouth. His gear could only do so much to keep him free of the distractions of nature, to allow him to focus on the fight. Two of his people were already down.

    Tartu had managed to draw the beast away from Lenny and Shawn, and that would have to be enough.

    The battle was not going well.

    The gator-rex was small, but it was still all scales and claws and roaring maw. It hissed and pursued, and it showed no signs of stopping, ever. This was its territory, and Tartu and his people were food to the beast.

    Tartu juked to the left and the monster did not slip at all as it reoriented, its claws holding well onto the mud, but now Tartu was on more solid ground. His boots suddenly grabbed onto the solid ground, and Tartu raced away. The monster chased, and soon it was on solid ground, too.

    Five seconds; that¡¯s how much time Tartu needed.

    He got what he needed.

    Soon, it was a straight path between the beast and himself, and on mostly solid land.

    With a focus born of years of study and practice, Tartu collapsed reality in a very small way, crafting a corridor around the monster. The corridor was larger at the monster¡¯s end and smaller at Tartu¡¯s end; a choke point. It was a simple Domain; the simplest, really. It was a denial of this specific monster, in this specific place and time. Nothing else.

    Tartu had gotten fancy before and two of his teammates had paid the price. This was all Tartu could do without more preparation, but he wouldn¡¯t have more preparation against most monsters. This is what he could do, so this is what he did.

    Tartu was a Domainer. He was better than a Warder; better than those people who had to coordinate their magic in the exact ways that the demons had decreed, thousands of years ago. Warders made spherical spaces of protection or denial, and sure, Tartu could do that, but that was simple shit. Tartu could stretch his Skill¡¯s shape and purpose beyond the original magics. He was an Arch Skilled warrior, and eventually, when he finished his 5 years of thesis study under his father at this settlement, he¡¯d be acknowledged as a real mage¡ª

    But for now, he had to kill this stupid fucking gator-rex.

    Tartu was beyond furious. This raid against this single monster should have been easy! Sure, there was a reason it was worth 10,000 points, but the party had been trounced within 20 seconds, and Tartu had been on the back foot for the last 4 minutes. That shouldn¡¯t have happened. There was just one of these things! Just one man-sized gator-rex!

    How the FUCK did that NOBODY, Mark Careed, manage to kill a hundred of these things at once?!

    Mark had cheated.

    Someone in the settlement had helped him to do that. Maybe even Aurora herself. She was telling everyone that Mark had killed the monsters with just himself and his party, but that was a lie. It had to be. Aurora wasn¡¯t compromised, but she was certainly misguided. Tartu didn¡¯t know what was happening there.

    Father wasn¡¯t sure what Aurora¡¯s game was, either, but he wasn¡¯t willing to get overly involved with Mark. That dragon, Addavein, was plotting something, and a lot of people, like Tartu¡¯s father, wanted to be nearby, but not in the cone of destruction, so that they could retaliate when the time came.

    Mark was obviously a hidden dragon, and Tartu was going to prove it to the world.

    Him and his talzarki of a dragon brother, Addavein, were dangers. It was all a scam, somehow, and Tartu was going to expose them all.

    But right now he had a monster to kill.

    The gator rex raced, headfirst into Tartu¡¯s cinched corridor of elemental force, its claws scrabbling on air soon enough, as the walls closed in and the ceiling cinched down around him, denying the monster¡¯s presence in all ways. The gator rex yelped with a surprised roar, crashing down onto the solid-to-it surface. It roared again.

    Tartu focused.

    The back end of the corridor was now 10 meters away, because Tartu had not stopped running at all. He had to get back to the other side of the corridor to close it off, and then the beast would be trapped.

    Tartu needed to move fast, so he put up another Domain of speed, for him only, like a curved tunnel beside the gator-rex¡¯s corridor. He reached out and touched the tunnel¡ª

    Light, sound, existence, all flowed around him, all of it pulling on Tartu¡¯s very existence, draining him of astral body strength just as much as casting the Domain had in the first place¡ª

    And then he was through, like a speeding bullet, appearing on the other side of the gator-rex. Tartu breathed heavily.

    Tartu stood behind the beast, at the wide end of the tunnel, and the beast was still trying to get forward, to where Tartu had been standing. It didn¡¯t notice that Tartu was behind him. Part of Tartu wanted to taunt the thing, because it was a monster and it could understand basic concepts, and being a hero was about being strong for a camera, but there were no cameras here. Just monsters that needed killing.

    Like slamming a door shut, Tartu cast another Domain across the corridor, closing off the tunnel, trapping the monster, but not too much. This end was blocked; the other end was just large enough for the monster to reach an arm through, and that was all. A fully enclosed space always broke faster than a space that had an opening in one area. That¡¯s just how the demons had made it. The stronger a Ward was, the bigger of a gap it needed in its defenses, or else it would be tested all the time just by a monster moving inside of it, causing it to break that much faster.

    But the battle was over, for the moment.

    Tartu took a deep breath, relaxing his astral body, relieving the tension that so many simultaneous casts caused. For not-the-first-time, Tartu lamented that the Church of Freyala had been overtaken by demons. They needed a paladin of Freyala on their team, but that wasn¡¯t happening.

    Mark had gotten to all of them, and¡ª

    The gator whipped around and roared; it had noticed Tartu behind it. It clawed at its invisible cage, but it could not get out. Not now that Tartu had slammed the door shut.

    With a satisfied smile, though he was covered in muck and his boots were halfway to failing, making him sink into the muck below, Tartu said, ¡°Fuck you.¡± Tartu glanced behind him, at the place where the battle had begun. Tartu called out, ¡°Sound off!¡±

    A bundle of reeds and grasses stirred and Kardi, the Lucky gunslinger, pulled off her cape, the transformative surface turning back into plain brown strips of leather. She was covered in mud from where she had hidden herself, right next to their most injured party member.

    Shawn was still on the ground, under a Domain that hid him from the monster Tartu had just trapped. That was all it did, though.

    Kardi said, ¡°Shawn is not doing well.¡±

    Shawn was laying on his back, his arm cradled on his chest. It was broken. Shawn was still in shock. His face was pale, his eyes wide as he looked at his arm, bent at a wrong angle. He was an acolyte of Drakarok, with Retribution as his secondary Skill, and while he could heal himself from most injuries, he was not capable of healing himself at this moment. There was an upper limit to how much Retribution could self-heal, especially when the initial blow did as much damage as the gator-rex had done.

    Everyone had expected Shawn to hold the line, but he had been completely overwhelmed¡­

    Where was Lenny?

    ¡°Lenny!¡± Tartu called out, stuffing down his sudden worries. ¡°Sound off!¡±

    Lenny reached up out of some mud far to the left. He looked at home in the mud, which was pretty normal for a guy with a Knowing of the land and a few years of Land Magic under his belt. Tartu instantly felt better knowing Lenny was okay. Worry rapidly morphed into anger, because now that Lenny was alive, Tartu felt good enough to open his mouth to yell at how Lenny had been out of position¡­

    But Lenny was limping. It was everything the guy could do to stand.

    Shit.

    Tartu looked at Kardi, and saw that she was mostly whole¡ª

    Roars echoed behind Tartu.

    Tartu glanced backward and fear clawed at his chest. The monster had found the hole in the Domain; even though the monster would have needed to squeeze itself tightly down to reach the hole, even though it had needed to go away from Tartu to get to the hole in the first place, the monster had done both of those things. Both of those things indicated a level of thinking that was greater than simple rage. Shit. It was a smart monster. So far, the monster¡¯s forearm was out of the hole and slapping around, its long claws skittering off of the solid-to-it air.

    It wasn¡¯t going to break free that way, but it was going to break free, and soon.

    This was actually the second time that Tartu had trapped the beast¡ª

    ¡°Tartu!¡± Kardi yelled.

    Tartu turned back toward his team.

    Kardi was already pulling out some vials from her bag as she called out, ¡°We¡¯re running, right?¡±

    She reached through the defensive shell that Tartu had cast over Shawn, breaking the shell in the process, as she shoved the red liquid down the man¡¯s barely-comprehending throat. Shawn balked for a moment, his stupor impeding his ability to drink, but he got with the program fast enough.

    Tartu looked behind at the monster again.

    It was mostly impossible to tell when a Domain would break. Tartu¡¯s Domains worked well against the things that he set them against, but Domains were airy things, highly prone to corruption, and thus, when they failed, they failed completely. The monster was currently contained, but it had been contained before, and back then Shawn had been prepared to strike the beast and kill it.

    But Shawn¡¯s blade had bounced off of the monster¡¯s scales.

    Everything had gone to shit from there.

    Tartu made the executive decision, ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±

    Shawn, even in his delirium, had managed to stand. He looked angry. ¡°We can kill it! I can kill it this time!¡±

    Shawn was a basic brawny, but on the high end of Strength modifier. Times 3.5. He, like most brawnies, could have fallen into one of two categories. He would have either loved his Skill, and been happy, or he would have been eternally miserable. Shawn, like most brawnies, did not fit into a neat category at all. Shawn loved his Skill, and he was competent, but at the slightest injury to his pride he revealed himself as eternally worried about being good enough.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you could kill it if you had another chance,¡± Tartu said, ¡°But we¡¯re done here. We used too many resources and I won¡¯t risk us breaking out the big vials.¡±

    Shawn was about to complain¡ª

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    Kardi told him, ¡°You can barely walk, Shawn, and look at Lenny.¡±

    They looked at Lenny.

    Lenny was teetering. He blinked and then forced himself to stand strong. ¡°I¡¯m good!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not good,¡± Tartu said, ¡°And we¡¯ve got a 20 minute run to get back.¡±

    Might be an hour walk, if Shawn and Lenny couldn¡¯t rally.

    Shawn was obviously high on painkillers right now, because he was still holding his broken arm and yet he was able to roar, ¡°That monster is 10,000 points! I need that fucking sword, Tartu!¡±

    Kardi popped the cork on a yellow potion and had Lenny open his mouth. He was still disoriented, so both of them were having some trouble. Kardi had no trouble speaking as she worked, though, saying, ¡°The gator-man species of monster is obviously tougher than Mark made it look,¡± She finished feeding Lenny the general energy potion and the man perked up a little. She turned toward Shawn, and continued, ¡°Obviously its 10,000 point prize is not miscalculated.¡±

    While Tartu and Shawn both glared at that, neither of them would call out Kardi¡¯s words as bullshit. There was a reason that this monster was left alive and alone, here on the edge of the mud flats northwest of the settlement, and that reason was to show, to everyone, exactly what Mark and his team (but mostly Mark) had accomplished when they killed the big one and the horde of smaller ones, days ago.

    Tartu recalled, just days ago, when he was standing next to his father, at one of the assault platforms of the Grey Whale, watching Mark and his team descend to the battlefield. Tartu had mostly been angry that Mark had gotten the chance to show off like that, but Mark¡¯s power was, unfortunately, real. Tartu still remembered that black lightning, scattering amongst the land, killing everything and leaving the big gator-rex for the woman to smash to bits¡ª

    The small, lonely gator-rex in the cage behind Tartu was still roaring, but now its roar changed tone. From anger, to worry, to fear and a call for help. It was standing in the middle of its cage and just roaring, and¡­ shit.

    The cage was breaking.

    Tartu had crafted the Domain as against-the-monster, but when the monster used secondary effects, like sonic waves that were completely divorced from its astral body, and as a call for help instead of a call of hate against Tartu and his people, then the magic inside the Domain would fray. It was already starting to crack.

    As soon as the cage broke the monster would be free and angry once again.

    Tartu declared, ¡°We¡¯re cutting our losses here!¡± His core was already strained to cast so many strong Domains in such a short period of time, but he eked out one more specialty cast, throwing a pair of healing Domains on top of Shawn and Lenny. Tartu was not a good healer. Domains protected; they did not reverse damage already done. But he had a few tricks that worked well enough for emergency needs. The air flexed around his two injured teammates and both of them started to look better, almost instantly, but Tartu¡¯s Domain¡¯s broke almost as fast. ¡°That¡¯s all I can do,¡± Tartu said, ¡°We run. Now.¡±

    They ran.

    Lenny was fast with his energy potion working overtime, but Shawn and Kardi were right behind him.

    Tartu took up the rear.

    The monster roared louder and louder, even with Tartu and his team escaping¡ª

    The cage broke all at once. Roars of fear turned into roars of hate, and the monster gave chase, once again.

    Tartu slammed up a solid wall behind them and the monster slammed into it, bouncing away. It was, of course, a monster, and monsters were always hyper aggressive, and it tried to pursue yet again when it got back onto its claws, but Tartu and his team were fully out of the mudflats before it figured out where the wall ended. All of that aggression was usually based around an area, though, so when the team had left the mudflats behind they left the monster behind, too.

    Soon, the team was just walking, not a monster in sight.

    This area used to be heavily forested until a day ago, but now the land was cratered and smoldering, fires still going in deep ash pits where Shapers and otherwise had stacked up the trash and burned it as best they could. The air smelled of smoke, and that smoke got everywhere. Just like the mud.

    Just like hidden dragons¡ª

    ¡°Fuck! I wanted a sword,¡± Shawn said, breaking the silence of their walk of shame. He winced as he held his broken arm, and then he set his face, a not-so-quiet rage just below the surface. ¡°The one I wanted is supposed to be a growth item.¡±

    Kardi said, ¡°There¡¯s a reason that gator-man was worth 10k, Shawn. We got our asses handed to us, just like every other grade C team allowed to fight it.¡±

    Lenny snapped at Shawn, ¡°Why the FUCK did your sword bounce? Shawn?!¡±

    Shawn roared back, ¡°Because you were out of position and you threw a mud ball at it! It aggroed on you, you fucking knacker.¡±

    Tartu softly said, ¡°Don¡¯t call him that.¡±

    But no one heard him.

    ¡°I blinded it!¡± Lenny yelled, ¡°Your sword fucking BOUNCED, brawny. If you can¡¯t¡ª¡±

    Kardi smiled brightly, putting a pleasantness on her face, in her stance and her body, as she stepped between the two men, saying, ¡°Whoa there! I didn¡¯t know there was ¡®asshole¡¯ mixed into the potions I gave you two.¡± And then she stressed, ¡°There is a reason that thing is a 10k point raid. Accept that the posting was not in error and move on, please.¡±

    Shawn scowled, most of the heat leaving his voice, as he said, ¡°And there¡¯s a reason the monster is capped for C-or-below teams. It¡¯s gonna get snatched.¡±

    Tartu could have spoken about how Lenny shouldn¡¯t have distracted the monster when Shawn was lined up. He could have said something about how Shawn should¡¯ve been able to work with a distracted monster, because Lenny¡¯s mudball had worked well. It had clung on the monster¡¯s face for a few seconds, blinding it, and that should have given Shawn a good opening.

    But the distraction had backfired, and they were in pain right now, so Tartu spoke of something easier to stomach than criticism.

    ¡°Listen up,¡± Tartu said, drawing attention to him. ¡°We¡¯re in the Hero Program. There¡¯s a villain in the city. We¡¯re going to challenge him and we¡¯re going to take his adamantium, and we¡¯re going to get new weapons. A sword for you, Shawn. A pair of foci for me and Lenny. And something for you, too, Kardi. I don¡¯t know what, but we can figure it out.¡± With a solid voice, Tartu glared ahead, at the rising city walls, and said, ¡°We¡¯re going to take that bastard for everything he¡¯s worth. It¡¯s not like a healer needs to be out there hunting at all. It¡¯s just disrespectful.¡±

    Shawn set his stride, and his face. ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°How, though?¡± Lenny asked, fully focused on the idea of robbing that bastard, Mark.

    Or maybe Tartu was projecting.

    He was probably projecting.

    Kardi was right there with Tartu, though, all smiles and joy. ¡°Finally! Yes! Let¡¯s kick his ass and take his shit!¡±

    Tartu grinned.

    Lenny furrowed his brows a little, asking, ¡°I know why Tartu hates him¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thinks he¡¯s a hidden dragon, yeah,¡± Shawn said, nodding.

    Among other reasons, yes; Tartu nodded anyway.

    Lenny continued, ¡°But why the fuck do you hate him?¡±

    Tartu knew, somewhat, why Kardi hated Mark. They all did, and yet...

    Kardi was a recent addition to their trio of men, having only connected with Tartu, and thus his friends, a few weeks ago, back on the ship. But she was literally Lucky, and she was a great shot with those magi-guns in her hip holsters. Tartu was glad to have her. They had needed a good long range specialist, after all. The woman herself absolutely hated Mark, too, which made her a perfect fit for the group.

    Kardi smiled at Lenny, saying, ¡°I think he¡¯s a hidden dragon, too, but that¡¯s a new development.¡± She looked away, adding, ¡°Before I met Tartu and you guys¡­¡± She let her voice taper off. She huffed. She said, ¡°I tried to be friends, and Mark didn¡¯t want to be friends. So! Mark gets to be an enemy. Simple as.¡±

    Kardi¡¯s words were the same words she had said before, when asked that same question last week. Her answer seemed just as hollow now, as it had back then. She wasn¡¯t lying, exactly¡­ or maybe she was lying, but mostly to herself. Tartu did not know.

    Lenny frowned, wordlessly.

    Shawn didn¡¯t seem to care. He was more focused on his broken arm.

    Kardi dispensed with her anger, smiling again, speaking in a bubbly sort of way, ¡°And I want some adamantium cores for my guns, silly! Same as you and Lenny, but different. I need the automatic casters.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Well, sure,¡± Tartu said, ¡°I should have considered that, of course.¡±

    Kardi grinned.

    Shawn huffed, about to say something, and then he winced. Pain stole his voice.

    All of them were being stoic in the face of painful defeat, which was a rather new experience for all of them. The city was still half an hour walk forward.

    Tartu asked Shawn, ¡°Do we need to radio for a healer pickup?¡±

    Shawn shook his head. ¡°I can make it.¡±

    Kardi said, ¡°We¡¯ll get there easily!¡± And then she looked to Tartu, grinning as she said, ¡°You¡¯re gonna use the shavallian stuff, right?¡±

    Tartu said, ¡°And a lot more besides.¡±

    Tartu could actually plan well against Mark. A lot better than he could plan against some ¡®random¡¯ gator monster. Still though¡­ He had thought his Domain with that thing had been good enough. Tartu had gotten something wrong about the monster, though, and deeply¡­

    Tartu glanced at Shawn. He wasn¡¯t looking that good.

    Tartu hit him with another bandage Domain, and the guy looked better.

    But he also huffed in slight annoyance.

    Shawn said, ¡°Save it, Tartu. We can make it.¡±

 148

    The date was January 21st, 2049, and the sky was overcast, threatening rain, while Mark was inside, sitting in his new living room, staring at a long list of items on his tablet that was, in fact, ten different lists, a dozen various specialty options, and altogether more than 2,500 entries. Probably a lot more than that, too. Most of those entries had sub-entries.

    It was the list of items, services, lessons, and money, available for contribution points.

    It was daunting.

    Where to even start? With the magicraft weaponsmithing lessons, that required Mark to go out and find magical shit and bring it back to town, and then learn how to turn that shit into flying swords and other things? Or maybe with the actual magic lessons, available for purchase and to take place over a whole year, but with a required Mage Secrecy Oath before you could even begin? Or maybe Mark needed to look at the artifacts for sale from the Artificer¡¯s Guild?

    ¡­ It was too much, actually, and Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure why.

    Mark set the tablet down and laid back in his chair as a certain sort of weight settled upon him. He wasn¡¯t sure what the weight was, at first. He was overwhelmed, for sure. Two thousand, five hundred options, at the base level, were a lot of options.

    With thoughts swirling, Mark looked around the apartment.

    Eliot had built the place well, but Mark had seen the same apartment over 4,000 times, now.

    Mark¡¯s party¡¯s room was located on the first floor of Castle One, one of five different living castles and two working castles, all located together, on the north side of the settlement, north of the lake. Their room, like many others, was a big central room, with only slight variation for personal needs. They had 4 separate personal spaces with one double space for Sally, seeing as how big she was, with most of the other stuff in the apartment on the bigger side, just a little. Doors were 9 feet tall to make way for Sally¡¯s 8 foot height, and stuff like that.

    Every room had a stove, running water, a fridge, basic internet connections; the Basic Income package.

    Usually, settlement living was a lot worse than this, but Eliot was here and trivializing much of the initial building, which everyone was thankful for. Mark liked the view from here, too, even if they were on the ground floor.

    The big porch windows looked out over grasslands between here and the lake. It had been forest, and then burned craters, and now it was simple grasslands. Eventually, it would be a lot more than that.

    The lake wasn¡¯t even a lake. Not currently. Just a meter-deep mud hole in the center. The tributary had yet to do much more beyond that, though not for lack of trying, or for lack of people trying to make the lake viable, even though it was nowhere near viable yet. Everyone had carved up the whole city over the last three days, with Eliot and various land Shapers putting together the pieces into a cohesive whole.

    People were talking about transferring water from the Shine into the lake, but only vaguely. Reeni Thumb, the overseer of Agriculture and Resource Management for the settlement, was against moving water around like that, and so that option probably wouldn¡¯t happen. Her reasons given were about parasites in the water of the Shine, and various contaminants that they simply didn¡¯t need to risk. ¡®One good month of rain will give us enough water, so let¡¯s not rush it¡¯, she had said. They had enough water to start farming crops, though, and so that is what they were doing at the western edge of the city, north of the tributary¡­

    Well.

    Mark thought of it as a tributary, because it flowed into the Shine and the Shine was so damned massive that it made every other moving body of water small by comparison. It was the Daihoon mirror of the Mississippi, after all. The veritable river running through the settlement would have been called a river in any other part of the world. The ¡®mud hole¡¯ the tributary fed into was a lot bigger than a normal lake, too, so it would take a while to fill.

    Reeni had already set up some fishing zones in a small part of the would-be-lake, though.

    Mark had already helped to feed those fish yesterday, but he could probably take a walk and go feed the fish again. Mark grinned at that thought. Feeding fish was a fun little activity, and it earned him¡­

    Mark checked the tablet.

    ¡°Feeding fish,¡± Mark softly said to himself. ¡°Worth 10 points for a full feed, using provided materials, or 50 points, using your own materials or Skills. Bonus of being first in line to eat fish on the menu when it becomes available.¡±

    It was worth fewer points than what Mark was currently doing, but the promise of first-in-line for fish outweighed the opportunity cost of missing out on his current job.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat with a Union of resilience and weakness while he reached out and connected to everyone inside the building, and to the gardens set up to the north, in the center of the 5 apartment castles. Of the 11,000-ish people living in the settlement right now, about 1,800 lived here in Castle One. Most people were elsewhere, though, working or whatever, just like Mark.

    Eliot had put up 80% of the buildings of the settlement in the last three days, which meant housing for 11,000-ish people, the settlement walls, the main Castle South, and also the secondary Castle North, where the majority of business and organization was being done, for now, and also all of the sewer systems and all of the intricate flooring everywhere. The land Shapers in the settlement, of all kinds from water to stone, had done the majority of the rough work, but Eliot is the one who made it all livable.

    The guy was currently zonked out in bed and Mark was healing his stressed astral and physical body, along with doing the same for everyone else in Castle One.

    Eliot¡¯s work in the settlement wasn¡¯t glamorous, or even that interesting after a while. Oh sure, the first apartment complex had been fascinating to watch, to see the floors flip into tiled ground and windows appear where there had been open air, but then Eliot did the same thing, over and over again. It was rote replication. It was all basic, and crafted repetitively, for the 11,000 people of the settlement project.

    ¡­ Actually, how many people were here?

    Mark tapped through the tablet.

    Ah. 11,208 people was the current count. The number changed as Mark watched, going up and down and then staying like that for a while. Someone had just left and someone else had come in, and a few taps later, Mark pulled up the public profile of the new person. It was some guy from the Settlement of Xerkona, and the person who had left was¡­ someone else Mark did not know.

    More people were trickling in and leaving all the time, as latecomers showed up on their own, while others decided that they wanted out of their contract.

    Mark kinda loved what was happening right now, though. Here he was, healing people, and planning his future in a new land, with new friends, and they¡¯d be hunting big monsters soon, and that was all truly fantastic¡­ But where to start?

    With a grin on his face, Mark flipped back through the point-buy lists, looking at the page of listed artifacts for sale, for points. With a flick of his finger, he went past ¡®antidote¡¯ and ¡®alchemy ¨C specialty¡¯, through ¡®cleaning options¡¯ and ¡®food prep options¡¯, to ¡®travel options¡¯. He clicked the option, and pulled up a list of enchanted items to assist with traveling. One more flick later and he was on ¡®hoverbelt¡¯.

    There were a dozen hoverbelt options, from shoes that did little more than allow someone to walk on any surface and only barely sink, to actual hoverbelts, which allowed limited flight. One option in particular called to Mark.

    The most expensive one, for 150,000 points.

    ¡®Grand Magus grade hoverbelt. Will not break under almost all normal operations. Major resistance to tampering from tech-based Skills and other types of Skills. Reduced cost based on materials you can find yourself. Click here for a list of materials needed, and their respective point reduction cost.¡¯

    Mark clicked the link and saw a list of materials.

    ¡®Gravcrystal, high grade, no impurities, 50 grams minimum: 12,000 points¡¯.

    ¡®Mithril, 500 grams: 50,000 points¡¯.

    ¡®Livium AI processing core, 50 grams. 50,000 points¡¯.

    If Mark went out there and got all of the stuff himself, which was a big ask because the livium core and the mithril were kinda beyond him at the moment, then he could shave off¡­ Ah. He¡¯d only save 12,000 points from the final price of the hoverbelt. The core and the mithril were the big necessities¡­

    But he could sell some adamantium to the Metallic Bank in exchange for mithril, couldn¡¯t he?

    Probably.

    It was a good fucking hoverbelt, and Mark kinda wanted it. A lot. ¡®Grand Magus grade¡¯ was the stuff an archmage or a superhero would use for fighting a kaiju. It would not fail under most normal circumstances. That¡¯s why the price was so large.

    Mark was absolutely sure he could buy a cheaper belt if he wanted to buy a cheaper belt, but who the fuck wanted one of these 10,000 point options? Mark checked out the cheapest one, for 8,000 points. The description read ¡®a children¡¯s flying toy, not to be used in combat¡¯.

    Fuck that.

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    Mark was all about combat.

    Mark flicked back through the menus, to the listing page for how to get points.

    You could buy points, if you truly wanted the points. This was because you could only buy stuff from the lists with points; not with actual goldleaf.

    One goldleaf was one point.

    Sally had already spoken at length about how sketchy that was, and everyone agreed with her.

    There were some economic shenanigans happening there, behind the scenes, but Mark didn¡¯t really care how the settlement chose to make its money. Mark fully realized that these kill orders for monster hunts, and these chore bounties for feeding fish and the like, and all of this healing that Mark was doing and getting points for, were all undervalued, and the city was making money off of its settlers in large, massive ways. Mark hadn¡¯t really realized that until Sally made a big talk about it. But that was fine. They were getting a home out of the work they were doing¡­

    Mark let his mind wander through his options, as he fingered down lists on the tablet, and as he healed people far out of sight¡ª

    Ah.

    Mark realized something about his earlier anxiety over all of these choices.

    There were too many choices.

    Too many paths to pick from. Too much stuff to buy. Too much of everything.

    And Mark wanted it all. Everything. All of it.

    He wanted the hoverbelt, and the mage lessons. He wanted to hunt monsters and drag along people with Harvester Knacks or Knowings or even Skills to dismantle the monsters for him, while they were still freshly dead, and he wanted to learn how to harvest monsters himself, so that they didn¡¯t degrade instantly when he killed them. He wanted metal forging lessons and to help raise fish. He wanted¡­

    He wanted.

    Power, prestige, land, people, friends, family.

    And a flying castle on top of everything else.

    Mark grinned.

    Well that revelation solved a few things for him, didn¡¯t it. He was a greedy bastard, apparently. So¡­ how about a hunt, today? When Eliot woke up, of course.

    Mark checked out the hunting slots, which were really just the signups for escorting a Harvester-Skilled person out into the wilds to get the most amount of goods from monsters as possible. Sure, some monsters needed to be hunted because they were dangers, but unless you had a Harvester with you, then you¡¯d be doing a lot of effort for a minimum amount of work¡­

    Mark frowned as he saw that every Harvester was booked. Again.

    So Mark switched over to monster targets, trying to find something that didn¡¯t require a Harvester.

    ¡­ Lotta interesting things to kill out there, for sure.

    Dragonspawn, which were not at all related to dragons or demons, were spread throughout the lands east of the settlement. They looked like those gator-rexes that Mark and his team had killed days ago, and they were about as strong, but they produced naturally-occurring ¡®mage foci¡¯ ¡ªwhatever those were¡ª and they were not hunted directly, but instead tranquilized with either spells or Skills, and harvested while they still lived. Anyone could do that, provided they could knock the beasts out and then dissect them without killing them.

    Mark¡¯s skillset was perfect for going after those guys. Which was great! Mage foci were worth between 2,000 points to 30,000 points, depending on a lot of factors beyond Mark¡¯s current understanding.

    Hunting dragonspawn was suddenly at the top of his list for point collection options.

    Another great target were the adamantium monsters out there, but only theoretically. Mark would have to find some, first. There were no listed sources out there, which was normal. They were incredibly rare, after all. But Mark should be able to sense adamantium¡­ which was something he needed to work on, actually.

    Later, though.

    ¡­ Adamantium was a biometal that grew inside adamantium blooded people and monsters, which was sort of like these elemental mage foci that grew in the dragonspawn, so was it possible to make an adamantium mage foci? Maybe! What would such a thing even do, or look like?

    Mark had no idea, but he kinda wanted to go out to the mage school that Eliot had set up yesterday, one district over from the War District, and see about those mage classes. Maybe he¡¯d even send a kilo of adamantium to Archmage Blackthorn in Memphi and ask him what a ¡®mage foci¡¯ was¡­ but that seemed overkill. Someone here could probably answer that question if Mark asked them.

    There were mage lessons to be had, after all.

    Flipping through a few pages of options, Mark came across the point costs for those lessons.

    100,000 points for mage classes, which meant 1 day of class every 7 days. The entry read: ¡®Paying in installments is acceptable. Mage Secrecy Oath required.¡¯

    ¡°Too expensive,¡± Mark mumbled.

    Mark went back to the hunting targets.

    There was so much out there waiting to be found, killed, and harvested¡­ but not today, Mark supposed.

    Mark glanced toward Eliot¡¯s room, where his vector was bouncing inward and outward erratically. He was dreaming.

    Sally and Isoko were out at the settlement doing something. Mark wasn¡¯t quite sure what they were doing, only that they were together. The whole settlement was on the buddy system right now, and it would be like that for a while. Maybe a year or more¡ª

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mark said, as he realized something else about all of these options in his hands. He felt the world crystallize a little, as he said, ¡°I want to kill kaiju and dragons. I should organize options based on that.¡±

    Feeding the fish for meat was important, though, so that went to the top of the list.

    Next came big monster takedowns, which was a whole category listed as ¡®raids¡¯. There were limits on the number and types of people who could fight various monsters, since the monsters were there for training purposes. There was even a gator rex, similar to the ones that Mark and his people had killed, which was listed under a D-grade raid for a limit of 4 people, and which was worth 10,000 points. Bigger monsters, for people like Mark and his team which were Grade B, were worth a similar amount.

    Grade B monsters were all things like goblin encampments and super strong monsters, usually with speed-based Skills. Speed-based monsters were almost always higher ranked, just because something moving twice as fast as a normal person was always a dangerous prospect.

    The third thing to go after was a tossup between magic lessons, weapon crafting, or maybe he could even sign up for general partying. Everyone needed a healer and Eliot was going to be busy with the city for a while ¡ªthey wanted him to make a tram system, and the city absolutely needed a tram system¡ª so Mark would need a temporary party now and then. Sally and Isoko would both be going after their own goals, as well. A temporary party to help people who needed a healer was a very valid option, and Mark would be helping others at the same time, and that sounded great.

    But Mark, Isoko, Sally, and Eliot, would certainly be doing these big monster kills together...

    Mark paused.

    ¡°¡­ Am I forgetting something? Something important?¡±

    Mark tried to remember¡­

    Nothing.

    ¡°Eh! If it¡¯s important I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll remember it eventually.¡±

 149

    A voice boomed outside of Mark¡¯s apartment, reminding him of what he was forgetting.

    The Hero/Villain Program.

    ¡°I¡¯m calling you out, dragon¡¯s brother! Villain and impostor of man! Hidden dragon and ticking bomb! Mark Careed!¡±

    ¡­ It took Mark a moment to realize what was happening, because it was so beyond imagining that he couldn¡¯t believe it was actually happening. In the time it took him to set down his tablet, stand up, and walk to the porch windows, Mark felt the vectors of the people out there, and then saw Tartu Solari, standing there in the grass beyond the porch. Tartu¡¯s team was standing behind him, at a distance, but within sight.

    This was obviously a hero/villain thing happening right now, but probably just between Tartu and him¡­ Maybe. All four of them looked like they had just come back from the field.

    Tartu stood strong, wearing his white and blue warrior-mage costume/gear. Kardi stood behind and to the side, next to two guys Mark had never seen before. One of the guys was a warrior with standard light warrior armor, which was basically a breastplate and various layers of metal over a mostly leather outfit. Bracers and shoulderpads and greaves and such. That guy had a big sword strapped to his back. The other guy was a mage, for sure, and more of a mage than Tartu. That guy¡¯s robes were brown and green; sensible for field work. He¡¯d blend in to most environments, and though that wouldn¡¯t work against most monsters, it worked well enough, as long as their warrior could hold aggro well enough.

    Tartu was all bright white and blue, which was not very sensible at all. It made him stand out quite a lot. So he was the distraction for the group? Or¡­ Or what?

    Mark questioned Tartu¡¯s clothing choices, but he was a hero, so¡­ Well. Yeah. He was a hero. He needed to stand out for the cameras in all ways, at all times.

    Mark took a moment to look back toward Eliot¡¯s room. The guy was still asleep, and he¡¯d probably stay that way for a while. Should he wake the guy? Eliot was pretty fucking tired and this was obviously a call-out for just Mark¡­ And yet, if Mark had been where Eliot was right now, and Mark had been woken up after a fight, then he would have been pissed. They were a team. They were supposed to tackle things together, even though Mark would be telling Eliot not to step into the fight, no matter what.

    So, with that in mind, Mark decided that Eliot would probably want to be awake.

    Mark flexed a Union through Castle One, spreading around some sleepiness to people who were already tired, or sleeping, giving them a good rest, while pumping Eliot full of pure wakefulness. Eliot¡¯s vector slammed back to himself and then outward as he yelped something unintelligible beyond his closed door. Mark caught the same sort of wakefulness as Eliot, his own heart slamming in his own chest.

    And just like that, Mark smiled.

    It was time to kick some ass¡ª

    Eliot burst out of his room wearing just boxers, eyes full of worry, yelling, ¡°What the fuck is happening!¡±

    Mark smiled and twisted his adamantium into a 10-point crown over his head and thin shield that was still a meter wide. A few long needles of adamantium completed his outfit. He wouldn¡¯t be using his adamantium against people, but he would certainly defend with it. Mark said, ¡°I thought you¡¯d want to be awake for a hero/villain call out.¡± Mark pointed at the glass porch door, at the team beyond, saying, ¡°Tartu and his party are here.¡±

    Eliot had a moment, his vector rapidly flickering this way and that. He glanced at the porch door, and he couldn¡¯t see outside from that angle, but the big screen in the living room turned on and showed a live feed from cameras outside. Tartu stood there, looking ready for a fight.

    Eliot breathed deeply, blinked a lot, and then rushed back into his room, calling back, ¡°I¡¯ll be ready in¡ª in 20 seconds!¡±

    Mark stared at Tartu, beyond the glass, saying, ¡°This is a fight between just me and him, I think, so¡ª¡±

    Eliot burst out of his room, pulling on a suit jacket while small drone cameras floated around him, saying, ¡°I got it. I won¡¯t interfere. Glad you woke me, though.¡± He glanced up and down Mark as he moved to stand beside him, and then he ignored Mark and looked out the glass door, saying, ¡°Noel is gonna want to talk to you about your whole... aesthetic.¡± He studied Tartu while he spoke out the side of his mouth, ¡°Did you take a shit in his cereal when I wasn¡¯t looking?¡±

    Mark burst out laughing. ¡°What!¡±

    ¡°He hates you so much and it¡¯s so weird. You¡¯re very likable.¡±

    ¡°I am a likable fellow,¡± Mark said, grinning. ¡°Thank you.¡± And then he opened the glass door and strode out onto the porch, onto the grassy land beyond, as he projected his voice, ¡°When I win, I¡¯ll cut off your feet and make you walk back home on your stumps!¡±

    Eliot gave a surprised mutter, ¡°Holy fuck, Mark.¡±

    Mark tried not to smile too much. The cameras were watching.

    - - - -

    Noel Oliphant, the director of the Hero/Villain Program in the settlement, was not expecting to truly work today, or any other day, for about two months. Maybe he could stretch his ¡®vacation¡¯ to three months if he was lucky.

    He still worked, though. Just not with heroes, villains, directors, camera men, local contractors, or anything like that.

    Noel wrote, and that is all he had really been doing for a while, now.

    Noel tapped away at his keyboard at his desk in his apartment, writing screenplays for heroes and villains back home, at Crystal Tower. He also maintained a presence at the tech room of the settlement, in South Castle. If stuff happened then he would be among the first to be notified. Mostly, those notifications passed him by. Mostly, he brainstormed storylines regarding Addavein, just in case they needed to be used. General Aurora Valen demanded to know everything he envisioned regarding Addavein. She wanted to be prepared for what the Hero/Villain Program would say, if Addavein pressed the issue.

    No one wanted to invite a dragon into the Program, but ¡®needs must¡¯ and all of that.

    ¡­ Noel was having trouble, though.

    So far, he had written 17 different ideas for plots, all of which incorporated into the major storyline happening back on Earth, between Glorious Man and Credenza. Weekly Brawl was the big, 59-season-strong show back home, and though the people would change, the main idea of it all would not. It was ¡®fights because reasons¡¯, and sometimes those reasons were very thin.

    Noel and others still had to come up with those thin reasons, though.

    They were doing a rather mundane story on Weekly Brawl this year, because all of the worldly events were rather ¡®too much¡¯ for a lot of people. It was a bunch of interpersonal drama leading to fights and stuff like that, and Credenza was eating up the charts. ¡®The Unlucky Villain¡¯ had gained a whole lot of popularity when the world¡¯s eyes went to Memphi, when it was announced that this twin city thing was actually, really happening. Credenza was fun to work with, too. She and Glorious Man had hit it off in private, which made writing for their public personas fun. So far Credenza was causing a bunch of misunderstandings between a bunch of people, leading to a bunch of fights, and everyone seemed to love that.

    It was like improv comedy with her, since she could make ridiculous things happen by lucky chance.

    There was a meme going around with Credenza taking a coin from a bank she just robbed and then flicking it at Glorious man, only for the coin to go right down his throat and him choke on it for long enough for Credenza to get away. Of course, in a real fight, Glorious Man could control where things were on his person, so he would never choke on a coin, but in the video, and in that hilarious first take which they kept for the actual show, the coin went right in there and it cut him off from saying his usual lines about how disrespectful it was to rob banks.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    So writing for those two was fun.

    But writing for Addavein?

    Noel sighed and pulled back from his keyboard. He read what he had written, went back to a turning point in the storyline, which was about 50% of what he had done, and then highlighted it all, copied it, deleted it, and pasted the copied text into a dump file. The dump file was named ¡®Unused plotlines ¨C Addavein¡¯. Simply deleting work was a bad idea, because maybe one of the other writers could do something with it, or maybe Noel could fix it up into something workable later, but no, he was not going to ¡®have Addavein get kicked in the face and then roll over like a beaten dog.¡¯

    What the fuck was he thinking when he had written that?

    ¡°They¡¯d say I was guilty of ¡®dragon assisted suicide¡¯,¡± Noel muttered, as he thought about that plotline actually happening in reality.

    ¡­ Noel stared at the screen for a while.

    ¡°The problem is you¡¯re too strong to write for,¡± Noel said, to himself. ¡°What plots can I write for you? Superheroes are all action, but you¡¯re a fucking dragon, so the action would be¡­ rather one-sided. Or too serious, really. Way too damned serious. Heroes can¡¯t win all the time, after all, but you¡¯d be one of those ridiculous heroes who never wanted to lose face in public at all.¡±

    Noel hated working with those guys.

    As for dragons...

    Dragons and archmages and warriors who killed things¡­ who killed anything at all, were not supposed to be a part of the Hero/Villain Program. Sure, the baseline idea of the HVP was to train heroes in safe environments so that they could not straight-up die against the bigger threats. When the going got tough, real battle experience was crucial to a successful hero. And it wasn¡¯t like they could send these young heroes out into the wilds for training. There were so many strange monsters out in the wilds. So many of them would straight up murder you if you were out of position or unable to fight back.

    Kaiju were, paradoxically, a lot easier to work around than random shitty monsters, because every single kaiju was strategized against by the best AIs and Minds around. Vast amounts of resources went toward killing those massive city and society-ending threats. Smaller monsters got much less screen time because they were just too fucking dangerous, too often, when things like Power Level comparisons and weaknesses were magnified to massive levels.

    A monster with Shaper of Water, or anything of that nature, could practically delete most Mage-type people, and the same was true in reverse. Body against Natural, Shaper against Arcane, Mind against Arch; those were always the most dangerous of matches. The outcomes of those battles usually came down to who moved first. When it was one human versus countless monsters the humans would win for a while, but the end result was always the natural outcome of playing a simple numbers game.

    One human would eventually fail against one lucky monster, and since there were always more monsters and never enough humans¡­

    Noel returned to his screen.

    ¡­ Individual humans would always eventually lose against random shit. Humans in parties lost a lot less.

    Heroes couldn¡¯t afford to lose a real battle at all, which is why Noel always sent young heroes against overwhelming odds in the beginning. Young shits with strong Powers always needed to be humbled in the beginning, lest they get overconfident and splatted by some big monster while they were still monologuing¡ª

    A memory.

    A horror.

    A feeling of loss, deep in his soul. Noel had touched a ¡®hot stove¡¯ part of his memories, and he burned himself all over again as he thought about That Kid. It had only been four years, and the pain of Dale¡¯s death was still fresh.

    ¡°Gods,¡± Noel said, interrupting himself and looking away from the screen. ¡°That stupid fucking kid¡­¡±

    His hero name had been Dazzle. His real name had been Dale Hammond.

    The guy had been on the spotlight track, destined for a starring role in the drama scene of the Californian market. Dale¡¯s Power had literally been Distraction, but he was also incredibly attractive and good natured. In screen tests, in the one season of New Blood, and for his two years of prior work on Days of Our Past and especially for his work in Capes and Cowls, Dale had been the brightest star of the last few years; the best actor around. He had been so fun to work with, too. Always joking, and then turning completely believably serious on camera, or even still joking on camera, he brought all of his characters to life. His portrayal of the fictional Hero, Shelvington, in Capes and Cowls, had propelled that movie to supermovie status within 3 months of its release.

    And then Dale had been on vacation with some friends in Orange City, and Addavein had been born.

    Thousands had died, and Dale Hammond had been among the dead.

    ¡°¡­ And I¡¯m supposed to write for that fucking dragon.¡±

    Noel stared at the page for a while longer, but nothing would come to him. Even when he tried to slam words out in an order that might, eventually, cause a plot to happen, he was coming up with nothing. Just gibberish.

    So he stopped.

    He looked at his new house, because there wasn¡¯t much else to do right now. His apartment was stone with rugs on the ground and a couch over there, and everything was mass-produced by the Cybersong kid, or by the few others who had smaller Manipulation powers. It wasn¡¯t Basic Income stuff, but it was close. The BI factory was still getting up and running. Basic brown clothes and such would be available for the taking starting next week. From there, the settlement would truly start to grow.

    It¡¯d be a while before Noel got a private house, though, which was fine by him. They were in the wilds right now, and being in a central, single apartment, surrounded by armed and strong people, was fine by him. Noel didn¡¯t have a party, so this was necessary. In this way, there was more stuff between him and the wilds¡­

    Suddenly, Noel felt like a fraud.

    He was a writer and organizer of the HVP, and he worked with high Powered people all the time, but those storylines were just stories. Entertainment. A happy-sort of entertainment, too. Sure, there were stories out there about war and death, but Weekly Brawl was slapstick at the worst, and high emotional drama at the most.

    Noel had signed up for this settlement project because he wanted to be here, seeing history and writing for Mark and Tartu and a bunch of other heroes in the city. There weren¡¯t any villains in the city aside from Mark, but that would change¡­ eventually. Maybe. General Aurora Valen had promised Noel the use of her training squad to act as villains on a case-by-case basis, but she didn¡¯t want That Dragon coming in here until he made himself a problem, and she didn¡¯t want the Program doing anything at all, if she could help it.

    Noel¡¯s very presence was just a fig leaf on the indecency of this whole scenario.

    Aurora could point to him and then tell Addavein at the same time that she was working with him, but she¡¯d deflect if Addavein ever showed up, and if Addavein pressed the issue, she would fight him¡­ Maybe. No one was quite sure what would happen if push came to shove.

    ¡­ Noel sighed.

    Noel should have had a whole team of people working with him, but Aurora had stripped those people from his group, and so, Noel was the only one¡ª

    A notification popped up inside Noel¡¯s own mind as his Tech Soul caught on an event happening right now¡ª

    His eyes went wide as his Power told him what was happening, what Castle South and all the Tech Minds had seen, right alongside him.

    ¡°Oh fuck!¡± Noel grabbed his personal camera while he also set his Tech Soul to record the public cameras outside of Castle One. Those public cameras wouldn¡¯t capture the best angles, but for that, Noel had his own camera¡ª Should he get his second servitor, too? It was stuck in a briefcase right over there¡ª ¡°No! No time, no time!¡±

    Noel rushed out of his apartment and slid down the emergency-use-only evacuation pole, down past other floors of Castle Five, the Castle furthest from Castle One, where all the heroes and singular villain were living. Aurora didn¡¯t want Noel collaborating with his people¡ª

    Aurora¡¯s voice came to him, stern and from somewhere far, far out of sight, ¡®But it seems they¡¯re collaborating without you, huh?¡¯

    Noel smiled as his boots struck the ground floor, near a bunch of people who were suddenly wondering if they should be worried because someone had just come down the emergency pole. Three warriors in armor, coming in the front tunnel of the castle, all took out their phones and looked for notifications. They weren¡¯t the only ones looking for answers.

    Noel spoke both mentally and actually, loud enough for everyone to hear, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect a hero battle so soon, either, Aurora! I didn¡¯t even have time to grab my servitor!¡±

    ¡®Bah!¡¯ Aurora spoke into his mind, from wherever she was.

    Noel rushed out onto the grasslands between the Castles.

    A few curious people followed.

 150

    Mark¡ª

    No. Sorry.

    Blackvein floated off of his porch, onto the grass, to stand, judging the man who had called him out. Tartu Solari was an average-looking man, with Daihoonian roots. The half-white, half-blue hair was Tartu¡¯s only real tell, but he leaned into his heritage with his white warrior-mage clothes, with the blue accents. It was his hero outfit, for sure, and he had just been fighting in it, maybe less than an hour ago.

    He looked muddy and small, and after Blackvein¡¯s taunt about cutting off his feet, he looked furious. His vector had faltered, though. His friends were similarly demoralized.

    With anger in his voice, Tartu spat, ¡°Cut off my feet and make me walk home on the stumps?¡±

    ¡°Healing magic exists,¡± Blackvein said, dismissively, as he stepped up from the ground to hover slightly. And then he glared with dark eyes, and spoke with a dark voice, ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten your own threats, Tartu. Or should I call you thief?¡±

    Tartu breathed out¡ª

    He vanished.

    Not physically. Tartu was still standing there. Visually, nothing had changed. But the world around Tartu was a sudden void to Mark¡¯s senses. Mark must have flinched at the sudden loss of Tartu¡¯s vector, because Tartu smirked.

    ¡°Can¡¯t sense me anymore, can you? Expect more of that going forward because every time you¡¯re given adamantium by your ¡®brother¡¯ I¡¯ll be here to take it from you and give it to deserving hands.¡± Tartu glared. ¡°You¡¯re better as a healer than you could ever be as a warrior, so stay inside the city walls and heal people, Blackvein.¡± He stood tall, and righteous. ¡°Or just be the Hidden Dragon we all know you to be.¡±

    Oh, wow.

    He was actually, for real angry.

    His words struck deep. Too deep.

    Mark felt floaty.

    A disassociation, perhaps?

    After a while, when the fight was over, Mark would try to figure out the feeling he was feeling right now, and he would come up mostly empty. He had been feeling a lot of things at that moment. But mostly, Mark would realize that he was happy, at least a little. For the last several months, people had looked at Mark like he had been a hero. They had called him ¡®the dragon¡¯s brother¡¯ with awe in their voice and joy in their eyes. Mark had gotten a lot of compliments and ¡®thank yous¡¯ for his sacrifice; for all that he had given up for the good of all humanity.

    Where four people had died trying to help Addavein fulfill his every-decade payment of his demon Contract, to allow the Hero of Humanity to remain a Hero of Humanity, Mark had succeeded, and all it had cost him was everything in his entire life. Addavein was a recognized problem, of course, but Addavein was a problem that a lot of people wanted to have.

    ¡®Oh nooo¡­ a good dragon again? Oh nooo. Such a terrible problem,¡¯ they would say.

    Dragon cultists were still a large demographic.

    Mark had never interacted with a dragon cultist¡­ at least not to his knowledge. But there were a lot of them out there. It was rather uncouth to talk about dragons as good people, though, and it had been rather uncouth for a while, but it was easy to understand that sort of speech.

    Mark might have been a dragon cultist if he had been raised differently. As it was, he was raised on superhero stories, but a lot of people on Daihoon were raised on dragon stories. Dragons were the heroes and the villains of every major historical play. On Earth, they had humans, and they even had human gods, but Daihoon was still heavily steeped in dragon worship.

    And here, now, was a Daihoonian talking about Mark being a hidden dragon, like it was a bad thing.

    Which it was, for sure.

    But...

    There was a lot there, and Mark would spend a while thinking about it all. About inquisitors that killed hidden dragons, about how he had been cleared of all suspicion, about how Addavein was shoving Mark into the villain spotlight so he could be a superhero eventually, for gods only knew why...

    But in this space, under grey skies and on freshly grown grass, Mark was not Mark.

    Blackvein didn¡¯t need to think about complicated things.

    Blackvein was furious at being told what he should do with his life.

    Blackvein intoned, ¡°I¡¯m going to punch you in your face now.¡±

    ¡°Just you? Or your friend, too?¡± Tartu asked, looking at Eliot. ¡°Are you going to risk him getting hurt in a spar, or can we have this just between you and me?¡±

    Blackvein glared. ¡°You and me. Time to fight.¡±

    Blackvein stepped onto the ground and walked forward.

    Tartu squared up, one hand going forward to guard, the other going behind his body, to the small hip bag at his back¡ª

    Something cracked.

    The world vanished. Light turned to dark, gravity turned to weightlessness, sound silenced, and there was no Union to be had.

    Mark had been cut off from the world.

    He could barely feel his own body.

    But he could feel his own body.

    Mark felt through his adamantium, too. He felt the grass. And then he felt the grass on his face, like a bunch of dull blades. Was Mark blinking? Was there grass in his eyes? Maybe. Maybe not. Where were his arms? Where were his feet¡ª

    Dull pain bloomed on his left side, and then again and again, the sensation of pain moving a little left and right, up and down.

    Mark reacted, grabbing onto something. Maybe. He wasn¡¯t sure. His adamantium was inert, laying on the ground all around him, but his arms and fingers grabbed onto something. Fingers clenched on something that might have been fabric. Dull pain bloomed on his back and legs, from the other direction, and Mark had no idea what was happening over there.

    He tried swinging his arms, or what might have been his arms¡ª

    More pain, this time on the back of his head and then his stomach.

    Fuck.

    Mark realized what was happening.

    He was getting stomped. Literally.

    - - - -

    Eliot stared, wide-eyed, cameras rolling, as Mark got his ass handed to him.

    He should step in, right?

    But¡­ Mark had said not to, and¡­ And Eliot wasn¡¯t sure about the right move.

    Mark was curled on the ground, adamantium fallen to the grass, while Tartu yelled at him and kicked him in the stomach, the chest, and then the back. Tartu moved around Mark, hitting him wherever he felt like, completely in power. Mark could do nothing.

    Tartu¡¯s white and blue hair was slick with sweat as he grinned, blood on his boots.

    Mark wasn¡¯t in any danger of dying because he had a Body in the high 50s and Tartu was barely able to do more than open up tiny cuts where Mark¡¯s clothing didn¡¯t cover, but holy fuck, this was a blow to the ego, and it had been going on for 5 minutes now. Eliot had told himself that he was going to step in and stop it, but this was a fight between Mark and Tartu, and so he stood frozen.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Other people had shown up to watch, and two of those new people were the ones who made decisions about these sorts of things. Neither of those two people were moving.

    Noel Oliphant just watched, recording on his camera.

    General Aurora Valen had dropped out of the sky a minute ago, and she was just watching, too. She was probably communicating telepathically with Noel, though, since the two of them were standing together and Noel was looking apologetic. Noel still had his camera rolling, though.

    Tartu spared Aurora and Noel a glance now and then, but when they did nothing, he returned to kicking Mark.

    Mark tried to grab for Tartu, but it was like he was drunk out of his mind. He reached and faltered, his adamantium laying on the ground, his eyes unfocused.

    Eliot wanted to step in¡ª

    ¡®Don¡¯t,¡¯ Aurora said, her voice drifting into Eliot¡¯s mind. ¡®This is what Mark signed up for.¡¯

    ¡®To get fucking beat up?! Stomped? You saw the wands that Tartu broke! Whatever spells he used were curated for Mark. This is practically an assassination attempt.¡¯

    Aurora just leveled a light glare at Eliot.

    Eliot turned back toward Mark. He wasn¡¯t sure what was happening there, but he¡¯d be finding out later. He hoped Mark could forgive him for not stepping in¡­

    Fuck.

    Tartu kicked Mark¡¯s hand away and moved behind him, roaring, ¡°Look at how easily I defeated you! All that power you gained and look at where it¡¯s gotten you!¡±

    He kicked Mark in the back of the head and Mark belatedly moved to guard his head, but he didn¡¯t do much but slap himself in the face with one hand, and roll himself over with the other.

    Tartu kicked Mark in the face, saying, ¡°Look at how protected you¡¯ve been! Two spells, gained by work, and one Power that¡¯s vaguely good against most things, gained by an HONEST Tutorial, and you¡¯re on the ground, unable to sense me at all. Unable to do shit. But don¡¯t worry,¡± Tartu sneered. ¡°Your teammate is recording for you. You can watch it later, Blackvein. Watch how I dismantled you.¡± Tartu exclaimed, ¡°Gods! You are a traitor to humanity. You brother of dragons. This won¡¯t even reach you, will it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take my Power away and you¡¯ll come right back together, and whatever tiny pain I have inflicted you won¡¯t even care about, because you¡¯ll vanish it away, like the healer you should be¡ª FUCK YOU! You even have a True Healer for an uncle!

    ¡°In two hundred years I hope you look back at this moment, captured for eternity, and it humbles you.¡± Tartu kicked Mark in the head twice more, roaring at him, ¡°Unless you¡¯re a hidden dragon and I get to execute you, instead of just teach you a lesson.¡±

    Tartu stepped back.

    He breathed, and then he pulled out a vial from a pocket of his hip-bag, saying, ¡°But to make sure the lesson sticks, I¡¯m taking your weapons away, as is my right for defeating a villain. Gods know you wouldn¡¯t give it up like you should.¡± He flicked the lid off of the vial with his thumb, adding, ¡°Lucky for you, this potion is pretty fucking rare, but humanity has been dealing unruly humans for a long, long time.¡±

    The potion effervesced into the air like a bubbling soda, and Eliot had no idea what it was, but other people knew. Aurora stared daggers at Tartu, but she said nothing. Nothing verbal, anyway. Others gasped. Someone standing to the side exclaimed something about something, and then mumbled to a friend, and Eliot focused on whatever they had said. His recording of the event played back on a small eyeglass he overlaid on his face, while words echoed in his ears.

    ¡°That¡¯s shavallian!¡±

    Eliot would look that word up later, but he understood the effect easily enough, when Tartu poured the potion onto Mark and the potion vanished into his cuts, into his blood.

    The adamantium shield and the crown and even the slivers of black, all of which been twitching up and down with every kick to Mark¡¯s person, suddenly ceased movement. Tartu gestured at his team, and his team moved in fast. The brawny, Shawn, grabbed the shield. It was heavy, but he was a brawny and he could hold it just fine. Lenny picked up the blades on the ground, using some leather gloves to not cut himself.

    Kardi took the crown and held it on her head, at an angle, grinning for the camera while she spun a gun in her free hand. ¡°Mwaaah!¡± she said, making a kissy face.

    Tartu looked like he was on the edge of falling over, but he maintained, standing tall, saying, ¡°I win.¡±

    Aurora spoke, ¡°The taxes on Hero/Villain Program gains are 95%. Pay up.¡±

    Silence.

    Eliot was suddenly stuck between disbelief and joy.

    Tartu¡¯s face fell, Kardi exclaimed something about ¡®but my new crown!¡¯, while Shawn and Lenny both looked like they wanted to yell out ¡®unfair!¡¯, and Eliot burst out laughing. He made sure to capture the faces of everyone present, though. It might make Mark feel better about his loss, later.

    Tartu said, ¡°There¡¯re no laws¡ª¡±

    ¡°You seem to be mistaken about what ¡®the law¡¯ is, Mister Solari,¡± Aurora said, light floating around her. Rainbows gripped the shield in Shawn¡¯s hands, and Shawn let it go. Radiance plucked the crown from Kardi¡¯s head. The needles remained with Lenny. Mark¡¯s adamantium flowed to Aurora, while Mark remained on the ground and Aurora spoke, ¡°Here, now, in this place, the laws are what I say they are. That is what it means to be a part of a settlement army, and you are one of my soldiers. I allow the Hero/Villain Program to exist because it must, because of forces far beyond our land here. But I dictate how the Program functions, and I will not allow rampant thievery. Be happy with the blades you retain, for they will be enough for your personal needs.¡± Aurora commanded everyone present, ¡°Disperse! Show is over. Go home!¡±

    Some people rapidly bowed and got the heck out of there.

    Tartu stared at Aurora, almost saying something, but he pulled back. He glared at Mark.

    And then Tartu escaped with his people and his blades. Eliot estimated he had gotten away with maybe 200 grams of adamantium. Maybe more; maybe less.

    Mark remained on the ground, gradually coming to¡ª

    Mark jolted awake, surprise on his face.

    - - - -

    Mark jolted awake, but he still fell asleep.

    Everything was soft. Nothing felt real. Voices swirled around him and Mark recognized one of those voices as Eliot¡¯s. Gradually, Mark realized he was sitting on his ass on the grass, and his vision returned. Mark looked up at Eliot, at Eliot was saying something, but all Mark could focus on was the lack of feeling in his limbs, and the lack of Unionsense in his soul¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯ve been dosed with shavallian,¡± Aurora said, standing beside Eliot, her voice cutting through the fog in Mark¡¯s mind. Was she speaking with her mouth? Or with her mind? Mark had mistaken the rainbows in the air for the sky, but no, it was just Aurora, standing there. ¡°I took the drug every week from ages 9 to 12, to allow my body to catch up to my innate Skill, so that I could take the Tutorial and not be overly encumbered by being a small child. Shavallian normally takes a week to leave the system, but that¡¯s for an internal dose. For a dose applied to the skin it only takes a day. By this time tomorrow, you¡¯ll feel fine, Mark. Until then, you¡¯re forbidden from actions outside of any safe space. You are confined to your room. Eliot and your team will be your protectors.

    ¡°As for the outcome of the fight, I have confiscated Tartu¡¯s winnings. You will not be getting them back because I will not be playing favorites. He beat you in a fair fight so he dictated his victory, and that¡¯s how the Hero/Villain Program works. That¡¯s what you agreed to when you joined the Program. I know you joined it under duress, but this action works both ways. This time, the Program worked against you. Next time, you can make it work for you.

    ¡°But there will be no more HVP action for the foreseeable future. We¡¯ll speak again if that changes in a few months.

    ¡°When your ¡®brother¡¯ gives you more adamantium, try not to lose it so easily next time.

    ¡°Good day, Mark. Feel better.¡±

    By the time she finished speaking, Mark could see again, fully, and he saw his shield and crown floating beside Aurora, held in her grip. Mark was still sitting on the ground. He would have stood and said something, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and his arms were the only things keeping him upright.

    Mark just nodded.

    Aurora flew away.

    It was just Mark and Eliot¡ª

    ¡°I got everything on video, Mark,¡± Eliot said, as he pulled metals from a hole in the ground, from the storage area in the basement of Castle One. With a wave of a hand he crafted a wheelchair. Mark almost panicked when he saw the wheelchair, but Eliot didn¡¯t notice. ¡°Let¡¯s get you insi¡ª¡±

    ¡°No chair!¡± Mark spat, suddenly finding out that he could control his arms and most of his lower half. He pushed away from Eliot and collapsed to the ground. Eliot stood over him, seeming suddenly scared. Mark was scared, too. ¡°No wheelchair! I can¡­¡± He looked at the ground, separating him from the porch of the apartment. ¡°I can hover¡­ Right? I can hover?¡±

    He tried to fly; to lift himself off of the ground. But his adamantium was gone.

    It was like he was missing his hands, even though both of his hands were still connected¡­ and his left pinky was angled very, very wrong? Oh.

    His hand was broken.

    The world felt dull.

    It was too much.

    Mark suddenly remembered physical therapy. He remembered smelling himself; his soiled bed.

    The sick.

    He tried to stand, but that was not happening. He dragged himself on the ground, but he rapidly tired and collapsed. And that¡¯s when he felt all of the wounds, all over his body. The pain of broken ribs. The difficulty of breathing. Had he pissed himself? Oh fuck, he had.

    Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

    Not again.

    Time passed rapidly and way too slow.

    The next thing Mark knew he was eating soup and Isoko was sitting next to his bed, and his fingers were flexing back into the proper positions. Eliot might have made a treadmill and simply moved a whole bunch of dirt around, with Mark on top of it, to get him into his room. Sally was furious. Eliot had needed to repair a wall. Sally yelled at Eliot and Eliot had no defense at all.

    Mark felt numb.

 151

    Mark woke up feeling a lot better.

    He was able to throw off his bedsheets and throw his legs over the edge of the bed, to stand under his own power, but only barely. Balance was difficult and Mark still had no Unionsense of the world, and all of his adamantium was gone, but he was already feeling better. He barely remembered last night.

    He could smell again, at least. Mark hadn¡¯t realized his sense of smell was gone until it came roaring back, along with his appetite.

    The scent of butter and bread filled the air, smelling heavenly.

    Mark left his room and entered the kitchen to find Sally making breakfast.

    Sally turned. With worry rapidly transforming into soft joy, and with a soft voice and a gentle smile, she said, ¡°Morning, Mark. You¡¯re looking better. How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Better.¡± Mark looked around, trying to find Isoko and Eliot, because he had to actually look around to find them. He had no sense of anyone anywhere. He couldn¡¯t see Isoko or Eliot, though, so he asked, ¡°Are Isoko and Eliot here? I can¡¯t feel them.¡±

    Sally had a glint of something unkind in her eyes, but then that sight passed. Sally said, ¡°Isoko is with Eliot, being his buddy for the day while he builds the tramway¡­ So. Hey. I tried to get your adamantium back, but Aurora said that she wasn¡¯t going to play favorites, and that you lost your fight¡­ So. Uh¡­ Sorry.¡± Sally smiled, adding, ¡°But on the plus side! This shavallian stuff is very temporary. You got a big dose in your open wounds, but¡­ Isoko cleared away the damage. I learned all about that stuff last night. It¡¯s a concoction of poisons that paralyze the astral body. It takes a while to clear and healing doesn¡¯t actually help¡­ Or at least Freyala¡¯s healing doesn¡¯t help. I think Freyala has some sort of denial of healing shavallian happening, because it¡¯s an old solution against criminals¡­ But anyway. You¡¯ll make a full recovery. Other good news! The only reason it worked so well on you was because Tartu¡¯s Domain and those two wands that he snapped to cast those debuffing spells on you. Shavallian doesn¡¯t normally work topically.¡±

    Mark had practically collapsed onto a dining room chair while Sally spoke. All of that was very good stuff, but Mark got the impression that they had gone over all of that before. Mark furrowed his brow at the mention of wands, and at a memory that wasn¡¯t quite working right. ¡°I don¡¯t remember him snapping two wands?¡±

    ¡°Eliot caught them on the cameras¡­ Do you remember us watching the video?¡±

    ¡°Not at all, but I¡¯d watch it again.¡±

    Sally smiled a little. ¡°You are feeling better.¡±

    ¡°I am, yes,¡± Mark said.

    Sally nodded and tossed the pancakes as she said, ¡°They were probably one-use generalized debuffers, to lower your Power Levels across the board and make you more susceptible to his Domain and the shavallian. He probably spent close to 15,000 gold leaf to take you down. He almost had a big payday, too¡­¡± Sally tensed, her back to Mark, and Mark unable to see her face. She was silent.

    ¡°I remember Aurora taking the adamantium as taxes,¡± Mark said, feeling a slight giddiness at that. Mark couldn¡¯t recall the actual event, but he imagined how it had gone down, anyway. He imagined Tartu¡¯s face falling while Aurora casually stripped him of his prize. He snorted, then gave a loud, ¡°Ha!¡±

    Sally turned, her face looking odd. ¡°It¡¯s funny?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°Kinda? The adamantium will get used for the settlement, I¡¯m sure.¡± Mark shrugged. ¡°I lost a spar, Sally. It¡¯s part of the Program, and this shavallian stuff is clearing up¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you mad?!¡± Sally exclaimed.

    ¡°I¡¯m furious,¡± Mark quietly intoned.

    Sally paused.

    Mark was utterly furious, but trying not to be. Mark breathed, and after a moment, after the storm had passed, he continued, ¡°But I¡¯m not going to do anything serious. It was a spar, sanctioned in the Program, and Eliot didn¡¯t get hurt, and I¡¯m glad he didn¡¯t step in, and Tartu¡¯s team didn¡¯t step in for him, so this was just a spar, between him and me, and I lost. It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve lost a spar¡­¡±

    This loss stung deeper than others, though. This loss was personal, for some gods damned reason. Why the fuck did Tartu hate him so much? Mark found himself recalling last night, of some video that Eliot had taken of the fight.

    Tartu had spoken about how healers should heal and not go into battle; Mark clearly remembered that much. There was¡­ something about¡­ how they were too valuable for the front lines? That seemed crazy, though. Healers were needed on the front lines most of all. And Mark wasn¡¯t just a healer, either.

    Mark asked, ¡°What is Tartu¡¯s problem with healers? You find out?¡±

    Sally started, ¡°Eliot¡­¡± She paused.

    Mark looked to Sally.

    Sally steeled herself, saying, ¡°Eliot did some research¡­¡± She lost her words again.

    Mark realized something. ¡°You¡¯re mad at Eliot?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Sally said, practically exploding. ¡°He was right fucking there and he let you get beat up! Like some fucking noble ¡ªjust like he is!¡ª he wasn¡¯t willing to get his own hands dirty.¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not mad at Eliot at all. I asked him to stay back, and he did that. If he joined in then everyone would have gotten into a big fight.¡±

    Sally sighed. ¡°I know. You never get mad enough at anyone.¡± And then she Looked at Mark. ¡°But Tartu planned that whole thing out, when he asked you for a solo fight, right? If Eliot had been involved at all, then you wouldn¡¯t have gotten trapped and then shavallian¡¯d. Eliot would have been able to disrupt any Domain that Tartu tried.¡±

    ¡­ A dark rage simmered.

    Mark had been tricked, huh?

    Sally noticed. ¡°So now you know why I¡¯m mad at Eliot.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°It¡¯s still not his fault, Sally.¡±

    Being tricked and then getting stomped wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault except for Tartu¡¯s. Mark had expected Tartu to be honorable. To do a normal fight. A normal beating. They¡¯d punch each other and then Mark would take the loss, and it¡¯d be a good time for the camera. Or maybe Mark would have kept going for a win, and graciously let Tartu off with a warning not to take fights he can¡¯t handle. Mark was never going to cut off feet; that¡¯d be fucking crazy. A normal fight is all it would have been.

    Mark had wanted to fight the guy because his Power of Domainer seemed cool. Tartu probably had a lot of tricks he could do with such a variable Power, for sure¡­

    Too many tricks, it seemed.

    And now Mark was mad.

    The rage flowed, and Mark let it flow. He closed his eyes, and welcomed the dark rage flowing through his soul¡ª

    A spark.

    A twitch.

    The world flexed to something less grey, less dull. Mark opened his eyes and felt wisps of intent in the space around him, and sparks of adamantium inside of his bones. His Power was already coming back, and that was a world of relief. Mark almost forgot his anger, now that he knew, for sure, that this downtime would be short-lived. But as he left his eyes open, his Unionsense vanished and his sense of adamantium faded into the background. Panic threatened. So Mark closed his eyes again, meditating in the dark for several heartbeats. He recaptured his Unionsense. When he opened his eyes, when he stopped focusing wholly on his Power, his extra senses and limbs vanished, but they were coming back.

    This was fine.

    He was healing.

    He would be healed.

    He was fine.

    Sally set a plate of pancakes down in front of him, quietly asking, ¡°Your senses come back yet?¡±

    With heavy relief, Mark said, ¡°Yes.¡±

    Sally smiled a little. And then she turned serious again. ¡°So you want to go out and kick his whole team¡¯s collective ass? Four on four would be fine, right?¡±

    Mark snorted a laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill them, Sally.¡±

    ¡°Just cut off some feet and make them walk home on stumps.¡± Sally nodded. ¡°A fine recompense if ever there was one.¡±

    Mark winced. ¡°Was that too much?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sally declared, cracking another smile. And then she shrugged. ¡°Or maybe it wasn¡¯t too much. People are already talking about you being a little crazy. Others are calling it a completely reasonable response to trauma.¡±

    Mark snorted. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll fight again, but before we do I want to figure out how he did that at all, so I can replicate it with Union shut down Powers on demand.¡±

    Sally stared at Mark a little. ¡°¡­ Uh? Would that be possible?¡±

    ¡°I have absolutely no idea what he actually did to me, but I want to know. I want to learn. And then, I¡¯ll never be vulnerable to that ever again.¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m sure if I find the right words and ideas I can replicate it, too¡­¡± With complete conviction, Mark said, ¡°If Freyala can choose not to heal it, due to some godly compacts, or whatever, then she can choose to inflict it, too, and maybe I can do the same.¡±

    Sally was right there with him, highly interested and serious. ¡°Eliot did some research into shavallian. It¡¯s high-class alchemy. He wasn¡¯t able to find out much, except that it¡¯s a controlled substance and it has a well-documented history of effects. It¡¯s Mage Secrecy stuff.¡±

    For the briefest of moments, Mark¡¯s mind went to Grand Mage Rekaro Solari. He thought of seeking answers from him. Almost instantly, he remembered that the guy was Tartu¡¯s father, and Rekaro had been less than helpful about other magical learning, anyway. The guy avoided talking with Mark about anything and everything, and Aurora had already offered to help Mark and Isoko learn flying magics outside of Mage Secrecy because she had foreseen¡­ She had foreseen a lot of this happening, hadn¡¯t she? She had.

    Huh.

    Archmage Blackthorn of Memphi would probably know stuff, though.

    And now Mark finally had a question for him. An archmage¡¯s answer about shavallian would only cost him a kilo of adamantium, which should take about a week of normal living. So not a big deal at all. Getting that adamantium to the archmage¡¯s hands, back in Memphi, and having a chat with the guy was a much bigger issue.

    Mark shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out.¡±

    Sally smiled a little, and then pushed the syrup toward him, saying, ¡°Enjoy the syrup while you can! This is the last one we get unless you want to spend points on extras.¡±

    Mark happily dumped syrup over his pancakes, saying, ¡°Not a problem. I was making 100 points an hour just healing people.¡±

    ¡°Syrup is 1,000 points per gallon.¡±

    Mark balked, rapidly pulling the bottle up to stop the flow. ¡°The fuck?¡± The bottle felt heavy in his hand, but not nearly as heavy as it should be. It was barely half full. ¡°¡­ But my pancakes!¡±

    Sally snorted a laugh. ¡°Extra syrup is extra expensive. We still have our normal allotment; same Basics as everyone else.¡±

    Mark stared at his pancakes, swimming in syrup. ¡°That¡¯s fine, then.¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°So, they¡¯re allowing rebates if you take on certain foods, and I was thinking, instead of that fish you like, of getting some cricket cakes for dinner¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not eating bugs! Feed the bugs to the fish and then we eat the fish!¡±

    Sally laughed.

 152

    ¡°I used potions sometimes,¡± Sally said, sitting in the back of the vehicle, by the monitors. ¡°But not really. They¡¯re always too fucking expensive, and they¡¯d all go bad every time we came to Earth. Arana had a few that worked fine but¡­ Not really.¡±

    ¡°Potions do work on Earth a little,¡± Mark said. ¡°I had that Color Drop treatment¡­ which I am now wondering about. How did that survive the negative ambient mana pressure?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s something,¡± Sally said. ¡°They use shavallian in some high-powered prisons, but it¡¯s not common at all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably an additive,¡± Isoko said, one hand to the steering wheel, the other on the throttle. The vehicle rumbled as it rolled down the way, slow and steady. Very slow and steady. ¡°Something they put into the shavallian to make it viable on Earth. Into all potions. I still like that theory the most.¡±

    ¡°It really could be a defined thing,¡± Eliot said, as he sat in his own seat, at the base of the vehicle. He wasn¡¯t really here; most of his focus was outside of the vehicle, on the ground under the big wheels. ¡°People who know magic can do magic well, and their magics last a while. Everyone else has to make do with knowing the recipes but not the power behind the recipes, like with alchemical silver. Some people make really good alch-silver, and some people make it crappy, even though they use the same recipes.¡± Eliot continued, ¡°The Veil of the Demon City Arakino defines how magic works, siphoning all loose magic on Earth back to Daihoon. Potions, stationary magics, even Powers outside of personal control; all of that sort of stuff just doesn¡¯t work as well on Earth as it does on Daihoon. It¡¯s an ambient mana problem. Negative pressure and stuff.¡±

    Today was the third day since Mark had been stomped by Tartu. Until today, Mark had been mostly confined to his apartment while he had been healing from the shavallian, flushing it from his system, but even by yesterday, he had been feeling better. Nearly 100%. Today, Mark felt completely normal. Physically, anyway.

    Emotionally?

    Not great.

    They had been talking about shavallian for the last few days, and about the holes in their knowledge of Daihoon and the world, so that certainly didn¡¯t help.

    But there was still work to be done.

    Currently, Mark, Isoko, Eliot, and Sally, were all inside a great big track-laying machine that Eliot had built, and which Isoko drove. It was the size of a tram car at about 20 meters long, and it was super wide, at 10 meters across. A normal tram was only 5 meters wide. This vehicle had giant wheels, spaced far apart, with the cab high off the ground so that the space between the big wheels was large enough for a track bed to rest. Most of the vehicle was storage for the tracks that Eliot was laying down, as Isoko drove. The cab where Mark, Eliot, Isoko, and Sally rode the vehicle, was relatively small. The vehicle drove relatively slowly, too.

    Physically, it was a comfortable, slow drive.

    Big windows showed off the settlement in every direction, while the road ahead was a flat mound that Isoko drove straight above, keeping the mound between the tires, and Eliot, seated at the lowest point of the cab, turned the steel rails and other stuff into a tram line. It was rote work for him by now. Just some basic infrastructure alongside the tram tracks. Internet and power, mostly. Mark was on Union duty, linking his people to the world, making sure Eliot never flagged. Isoko drove very slowly, as well as helped with Union. Sally coordinated drops from Castle North.

    The sky was blue in the distance, but auroras straight above, and all the world seemed pleasantly plain. Grasses grew everywhere and Mark linked to them and the world, feeling calm, and healthy. He only had 400 grams of adamantium, and that was worrying, but he had pushed himself a whole fucking lot yesterday to make as much as he could, so it was what it was. It was enough to make a few caltrops for hovering purposes, and a single small scalpel for battle.

    With her eyes up, looking out of the sunroof of the big vehicle, and then glancing at the radar to the side, Sally hummed, and said, ¡°The next drop is coming. Should be here in 30 seconds.¡± She glanced behind them, at the bed of the vehicle. ¡°You need more precious metals? We¡¯re practically out of copper, I think? Gold is low, too.¡±

    ¡°Just copper,¡± Eliot said¡­ And then he blinked a lot, then frowned. ¡°No, uh¡­ Yeah. We need gold, silver, titanium¡ª The whole computer loadout, too. Aluminum, tin, zinc, neodymium, etcetera.¡±

    Sally tapped away at a tablet, saying, ¡°Heard and understood. Requests sent. Annnnnd¡ª¡± The tablet beeped. Sally said, ¡°Requests received. They¡¯ll be added to the next drop¡ª And here¡¯s our current resupply, now.¡±

    A hovercar was headed this way, the vectors of the people on board, and the fliers hanging off of the load on the bottom, all pointed in their direction. Isoko pulled back on the throttle of the vehicle. They slowed. The fliers hanging off of the hovercar¡¯s load all flew off of the load, to get ready to drop it into the bed, behind the cab. It was a dance they had done a few times now, yesterday and the day before, but it had been a lot more difficult with only half their team in the vehicle. Every transfer had taken a full five minutes. But now that everyone was here it went a lot better.

    Wordlessly, Mark joined everyone present into a Union of intent.

    Everything kinda clicked together after Mark did that.

    Isoko angled the vehicle just so, before she ground to a complete stop. The guys driving the hovercar held it just right, until they were positioned perfectly. Instead of needing to manhandle the materials onto the vehicle, the fliers just unclipped stuff after it was already set down properly, belts slipping away and several tons of steel settling down onto the vehicle, right where it needed to be. Eliot, as a part of the Union, made sure that the feeder systems were working well, and soon, the fliers zipped to the front of the vehicle¡ª

    Two of the three fliers were people Mark recognized from the Hero/Villain Program. They were Wilma and William¡­ something. Last name started with an ¡®H¡¯. They usually wore blue and white superhero outfits and they had met with Mark briefly, a few times back on the ship. Not many times after that, inside the settlement, though.

    They were wearing green and gold webweave right now. Not blue and white. They had been wearing blue and white, but¡­ they had changed? Why did they change?

    ¡­ Because of Tartu¡¯s blue and white scheme?

    They waved at Mark looking directly at him for a brief moment before flying back up to the hovercar, as it flew back to base.

    Isoko looked at them fly away and went, ¡°Huh,¡± and then she revved the engine back up, and then they were keeping on, keepin¡¯ on.

    Mark said, ¡°They had on different costumes, right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what it was!¡± Isoko said, in realization. ¡°They changed their colors?¡±

    ¡°Used to be blue and white,¡± Mark said.

    The vehicle rumbled.

    Sally continued the conversation from earlier, saying, ¡°I was always told that Earth didn¡¯t have alchemy because of the mana pressure. But that¡¯s just not true¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s absolutely true,¡± Eliot countered.

    ¡°¡ªbecause,¡± Sally enunciated, ¡°There¡¯s alchemical silver and some people do have health potions, and Mark had that whole Color Drop treatment, so all of that means that alchemy does work on Earth. But not most alchemy.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Alchemical silver potions last twice as long on Daihoon.¡±

    Isoko led with the question, ¡°So it¡¯s an additive, yeah? A stabilizer? Well-made magical items work well on Earth, too, but the cheap shit breaks all the time.¡±

    ¡°More like the cheap shit cannot be made on Earth,¡± Sally said, ¡°Because you need solid mana, and that only exists on Daihoon.¡±

    Isoko went, ¡°Nuh uh! You can get solid mana on Earth!¡± She paused. ¡°You have to be able to; I¡¯m sure?¡±

    ¡°¡­Weeeeell¡­¡± Sally drifted off, not sure if she wanted to fight that point or not, because she was probably in the wrong.

    They had been discussing shavallian and potions and single-use wands for two days now. Right now they were on the potion discussion, but they had been talking about wands and how those were completely unusable on Earth, or at least no one had ever seen one in use on Earth¡­

    Maybe.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    The number 1 import to Earth was magical materials, though; that ¡®solid mana¡¯ that Sally mentioned.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot we don¡¯t know,¡± Mark said, feeling some kinda way about a lot of things.

    He knew about single-use wands, in the way that he knew guns existed and were used against monsters. Usually, guns were great for small, weak monsters, like young goblins and stuff like that. He knew about potions, in that alchemy was massive on Daihoon, but barely visible on Earth, aside from a few big exceptions. Alchemical silver was the major exception to the ¡®no potions on Earth¡¯ status quo.

    Some people even used alchemical silver on their bullets, which was a pretty normal exception to the way fights usually played out, which was how Mark fought; with his Powers.

    What Mark was having trouble with was that he had been tricked.

    He had been tricked to be honorable, while the enemy wasn¡¯t honorable at all, bringing resources beyond Mark¡¯s understanding to what was effectively a spar. A spar! This Hero/Villain Program was all about people fighting each other for the cameras and hamming it up according to their characters. Why would anyone spend money on a spar, shelling out thousands upon thousands of goldleaf on single-use items!?

    ¡­ Obviously, if the ¡®winnings¡¯ of the spar were in the millions of dollars, then the answer was ¡®everyone will spend money to make money¡¯.

    ¡­ Did villains spend money on things like wands and shit, when they robbed banks for the camera? Mark watched the movies just like everyone else but he had never been one for Weekly Brawl, or any of the other popular weekly shows. Reality television just wasn¡¯t interesting to him. Maybe there were villains who made items and stole things with those items¡­ And yet, couldn¡¯t they make more money selling the items they made instead of using them to steal more money? Anyone with a Power for making items could make a whole lot more money making items than they could stealing things.

    Earth had a whole lot more Tinkerers than Daihoon, though, which was a whole different angle to this cultural shift thing that Mark was experiencing. Tinkerers used AI and metals and electricity and computers and big gears and shit like that. Daihoon had artificers, which used solid mana to make magical items. Tinkerers were maybe 90% real stuff and 10% mana. Artificers were 60% real stuff and 40% mana.

    Enchanters were maybe 5% real stuff and 95% mana.

    ¡­ Maybe.

    Just look at Eliot, turning steel and metals and stone into infrastructure. He was sort of like a Tinkerer, for sure, and he was making a whole lot of money doing Tinkering. Sure, he was in the top point-zero-zero-zero¡ªmany more zeroes¡ª1% of Powers capable of such feats, but even Knacks for making things were still useful. Anyone with a basic Knack for creation of any kind could always find really good work at one of the Basic Income factories. Sure, it was boring as fuck work¡­

    Mark shook his head.

    Mark continued, ¡°There¡¯s a lot I didn¡¯t know, but the problem with that fight with Tartu is there was a lot I didn¡¯t expect to happen. I thought it was a fight for a camera, and Tartu wanting to challenge me first before anyone else did, because that¡¯s what he said back on the Grey Whale. But it was obviously more than that. I didn¡¯t expect him to be a thief like that.

    ¡°All I know, right now, is that I¡¯m not doing single spars anymore. Maybe I¡¯ll start off that way, but I want you guys to jump in next time something like that happens. I was stupid with Tartu. I should have asked for Eliot¡¯s help. Tartu took advantage of so¡­ so many expectations.¡±

    Sally was quick to say, ¡°Of course!¡±

    Eliot almost said something¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re going to get targeted like that again,¡± Isoko said, her voice deep with certainty, her eyes locked on the slow drive ahead. ¡°The first time was rough. Rougher than most. Tartu approached you like you¡¯d approach any supervillain; with as many specific counters as he could. Villains and heroes get targeted at their weaknesses all the time.¡± Isoko turned and looked at Mark, saying, ¡°And now you know what an alpha strike feels like, and you¡¯ll never let it happen again. Distance would have saved you, too. Running, the very instant Tartu put up an anti-Union Domain around himself, would have fucked up his plan. He¡¯s not a Seer; his Power has a set range, just like everyone¡¯s. If you had been at range, then you could have picked up rocks out of the ground or carved rocks from walls and thrown them at him.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Sally and Eliot were both silent.

    Mark sighed. ¡°¡­ Yeah. You¡¯re right.¡± He felt stupid all over again. ¡°I was just¡­ not expecting¡­ any of that. But you¡¯re right¡­ Gods dammit. Yes. You know? ¡­ The first fucking lesson they taught us in Tutorial training was to run from monsters if you had no idea what they were doing.¡±

    Isoko nodded a little, her eyes back on the track ahead.

    Sally said, ¡°Yeah. Instructor Gravel was a real hardass about that lesson.¡±

    Eliot blurted out, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t jump in¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Eliot,¡± Mark said. Eliot had already apologized and Mark had already forgiven him, but the apology and the forgiveness didn¡¯t seem real, to Mark; not until this moment right here. Mark stressed, ¡°It¡¯s no one¡¯s fault but my own.¡± He squared his shoulders, sitting straight. ¡°This time was just a loss to some asshole and a beating to remember. Something like that could have happened in the wilds instead, and I could simply be dead.¡± He put on a smile, feeling better already¡ª Quark rumbled Mark¡¯s phone. He pulled up Quark and looked at the readout for the map of the settlement. ¡°Quark is saying there is some mistake with the internet? There¡¯s a break 40 meters back?¡±

    Eliot refocused fast¡ª ¡°Ah, shit. Back up, Isoko. We need to run the last 50 meters again.¡±

    ¡°Sure sure,¡± Isoko said, as she pulled a mobile screen to the front of her driver¡¯s seat while flicking on some screens to the side. The screens showed the rear of the vehicle; the main view, far beyond the piles of stuff in the back of the cargo bed, and the sides and bottom, where the wheels went over the track they had just laid down. With a change of the throttle, the vehicle¡¯s engine roared free, and then caught once. With eyes on the screens, Isoko said, ¡°Reversing.¡±

    They went back, Eliot fixed the track, and then they went forward again.

    It was a lazy day of driving.

    At the end of the day, after Isoko parked the vehicle at the depot of Castle North alongside a bunch of other working vehicles, they went to the tram station right outside. It was kinda nice to see a bunch of people get on the tram headed south, toward Castle South and Castle One beyond that. A different tram headed northeast, toward Castle Five, one of the apartment castles. Those two tracks circled around the War District, carrying the main load of people traveling in the settlement. It was nice to see people already using them.

    As Mark and his team got on the next tram, on a tram that Eliot had built yesterday, he glanced out at the signs outside that Eliot had built this morning, and he remembered what it all looked like three days ago.

    ¡°There was nothing here two weeks ago,¡± Mark said, feeling some kinda amazing, as he sat down on a sturdy blue metal seat, and the servitor at the front of the tram engaged the rail. The tram rolled south, and Mark watched the world go by, saying, ¡°It¡¯s amazing, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s smile had to be one of the brightest things that Mark had seen in a long time. The guy held onto a pole and leaned out a little, saying, ¡°It¡¯s pretty great, but I think what¡¯s even better is that I really, really love doing this. I hope you three aren¡¯t too bored escorting me everywhere.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still getting paid, even if it isn¡¯t a whole lot,¡± Sally said, watching the vast plains of the open settlement roll on by.

    ¡°It¡¯s 3k per day, yeah?¡± Mark said, already pulling Quark out to check his balance. ¡°13.7k so far. That seems like¡­ Not a lot, actually.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a few days behind the rest of us,¡± Isoko said with a smirk.

    Mark rolled his eyes at her.

    Sally said, ¡°It¡¯s credit you can only spend here, too, and only in ways that they say you can spend it. It¡¯s not even real money, but everyone is treating it like it is.¡±

    Mark, Isoko, and Eliot all looked at her.

    ¡°I¡¯m not complaining; I¡¯m just saying we¡¯re being taken advantage of!¡± Sally said, holding up her hands in mock defense. She switched to pointing at Eliot, saying, ¡°You¡¯re not getting paid nearly enough. This whole place only exists because of you.¡±

    ¡°Oh I know it,¡± Eliot said, completely unperturbed. ¡°I¡¯m getting paid more in political power than monetary power, though. You could do the same, yeah?¡±

    Sally¡¯s vector lightly focused. ¡°What are you going to do with that political power?¡±

    As though the question hadn¡¯t been massive with meaning, Eliot smirked and easily said, ¡°Build a really nice mansion, woo a wonderful girl, have a nice family in a nice land, but also have a home base that I can always come back to after exploring the world and documenting Daihoon.¡± Eliot looked out the windows, smiling slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t mind if the particulars take a long time. I got time. We all got time.¡± He shrugged, turning back toward Sally. ¡°But you guys need more points and I¡¯m almost ready to go do some of that exploring, as soon as the work schedule clears up. I¡¯d go on a raid, whenever you guys find one¡ª¡± He quickly reinforced, ¡°There¡¯s still ten days of building to be done, and I want to get all of the low-hanging points I can, while I can! After that, though. Afterwards, for sure.¡±

    Eliot was getting paid 25k points per day of building, but guarding him was only worth 3,000 per day. It was pretty good pay, in Mark¡¯s opinion, but, yeah, like Sally said, it wasn¡¯t enough. Not really.

    All four of them were after at least one item on the reward list that was worth 500k points.

    Mark asked, ¡°You¡¯re saving up for an Obsidian Card, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes!¡± Eliot said. ¡°A lifetime 25% discount on all normal goods at all Artificer Guild shops! It¡¯s a lot of money saved. That¡¯s part of the political power I¡¯m buying.¡± He added, ¡°Getting the connections to the people who can actually make the truly good stuff is going to be as important as having enough money to buy the stuff in the first place, though, which is why I¡¯m here.¡±

    Isoko grinned, teasing, ¡°Gonna be like Item Man going into battle.¡±

    Eliot exclaimed, ¡°Exactly! With those kind of artifacts on me it won¡¯t be like wearing power armor ready to be crushed by any random fucking monster. It¡¯ll be good power armor. Really good power armor.¡± He grinned. ¡°I think I can anoint it with Castellan, too, if I do it right. It¡¯ll be like walking around in my own private castle.¡±

    Sally asked, ¡°That won¡¯t mess up the Castellan here in the city?¡±

    ¡°Nope! That¡¯s not how that works.¡±

    Mark smirked and teased, ¡°Tell us how it works!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t! Hearthswellian Secrets! I can tell you that the tracks are a good part of the formation that will keep the city safe, though the walls are the major part.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Isoko said, ¡°That doesn¡¯t count.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s internet-search stuff! Give us the goods, Eliot!¡± Mark said, feeling good.

    ¡°Nope!¡± Eliot said, also smiling.

    Sally grinned a little, too, and then she put an arm up on the windowsill, to watch the world go by.

    It was all grasses and a lake in the distance, and though there was a wall further beyond all of that, it was the most open place that Mark had ever lived. No trees. Not yet. It was nice to see all that open space.

    Soon, they arrived at Tram Station One, located across the way from Castle South, the main war castle of the settlement. Everyone did their physical work of harvesting or storage in Castle North, but Castle South was where the offices and war councils met. Tram Station One was currently unbuilt, but it was going to be the largest of tram stations once Eliot fixed it up.

    Tram Station One was currently a bunch of metals, stone blocks piled high, a few pits and basic stone bridges for where trams would ride low or high instead of at ground level, and piles of glass.

    For the rest of the day, Sally walked around with a big metal club in her hand, smacking the stone so Eliot could walk by and transform it into a proper main tram station. Isoko did the same, but with a smaller club, and smaller strikes, while helping Eliot to keep his Power going strong. Mark got to hold a creation button, linked to the electronics of the place, while he Union¡¯d with everyone, keeping them all healthy, satiated, clean, and energized. Pressing the button amounted to sending electrical shocks through the wiring of the building, which were all linked to tiny hammers here and there, which, in turn, made the whole place just a bit more ¡®man made¡¯¡­

    Which got Mark to thinking about AI being used to make things ¡®man made¡¯. Mark had already had that particular conversation with Eliot and Eliot had already explained how it didn¡¯t work that way, because AIs of all kinds fell into the category of ¡®familiars¡¯, based on the ancient magics of the demons¡­ Which got Mark to thinking about how to break Tartu¡¯s Domains.

    Mark asked, ¡°I know AIs don¡¯t count as human made, but could they count for the purposes of breaking targeted enchantments on a person? Like one of Tartu¡¯s Domains? Or any other targeted-effects, actually? Maybe one of those livium-core subdermal AIs; that way your person couldn¡¯t be targeted because you were actually two people.¡±

    Eliot was busy, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his fingers pressed invisible buttons and lights blossomed overhead, in the new tram station. He did not answer.

    Sally smashed the ground a few tens of meters away, so she didn¡¯t hear.

    Isoko shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about the AI stuff. A livium core would make a separate astral body, wouldn¡¯t it? But that¡¯d be a real person, right?¡±

    ¡°Not if it was just a basic AI; that is an option¡­ But then again, if it wasn¡¯t a person, it wouldn¡¯t count, would it.¡±

    Isoko hummed, glanced at Mark, and looked away in thought.

    Mark got the distinct feeling that both of them had no idea what they were talking about.

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m talking about here. Union-users are supposed to be among the strongest defenders out there¡­ So this whole thing has blindsided me.¡±

    ¡°Same,¡± Isoko said. ¡°But¡­ You know? Healers outside of Union-users are rather vulnerable. I bet if we went to the Healer¡¯s Guild they might have some trinkets for sale to protect a person. Maybe the solution to a Tartu-type attack is layered defenses. A livium-core AI might be able to do something to break a strong, concentrated Domain, and a bunch of charms, or whatever they are¡­ those small things that defend a person? I think they¡¯re called charms.¡± Isoko shrugged. ¡°I never expected to spend money on those things either.¡±

    ¡°Me either, but¡­ it¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    Mark mulled that over while he Union¡¯d with the world and his team, and clicked the big red button.

    An hour later, the main tram station was done and the four of them stood outside the front, looking at the most modern tram station that Mark had ever seen. It was glass and light and with sweeping views of the land beyond, and it had lines for 10 different tracks which was an incredible overkill, but which was great for future expansion. Some army guys took over when Eliot was done. They were Tinkerers and they began working on the electronics and redundancies inside the station. They would continue to work on all of that for the rest of the night.

    They were supposed to be putting in a ¡®central tinkerer interchange¡¯ in the tram station; whatever that was. They explained it as a place for Tech-people of all kinds to play nicely with each other. Mark got the impression that it was more of a chat room than anything else.

    Tomorrow, Eliot would start moving the lines from the temporary tram station to this main location¡ª

    Oh.

    Mark remembered something.

    Mark asked Eliot, ¡°You have a charm, right? A mental charm?¡±

    ¡°Huh? Oh! Yeah, I do.¡± Eliot pulled back the collar of his shirt and showed Mark a silver necklace. ¡°It doesn¡¯t actually defend against mental attacks. That¡¯s too difficult.¡± He put away his anti-Mind charm. ¡°It just reminds me to think about who I¡¯m interacting with¡­ Would a charm be enough to break a Domain?¡± Eliot didn¡¯t seem to know.

    Mark and Isoko didn¡¯t know either, and they said as much.

    Sally said, ¡°Charms are shit. All magical items are overpriced in the shops and they underdeliver in battle. Literally the only good magical items are quality of life stuff, like Prestidigitation Boxes for cooking and maybe a hoverbelt for getting around. A giant hunk of steel for a weapon is just about the only thing that you really want to use. That¡¯s why the Builder¡¯s Guild is separate from the Artificer¡¯s guild, but they both make ¡®magical¡¯ items; Builders make solid items that can¡¯t break, but Artificers make easily breakable stuff.¡±

    And so began a long conversation about magical items, which none of them expected to have to spend real money on. Sure, they were going to buy stuff to let them all kill stuff better, but relying on items to survive monsters?

    Mark felt uncomfortable about relying on physical objects for anything.

    Quark had broken every other day since he started hunting monsters outside of Memphi, months ago. It wasn¡¯t until Blackthorn told Mark how to make more adamantium, and Mark used that adamantium to keep Quark safe, that Quark survived a day of hunting. There were lots of magical items for sale on Earth that could have solved Mark¡¯s issues, but all of them were either too expensive or just not good enough, and so Mark had made do with new phones every other day, thanks to Eliot.

    Maybe magical items on Daihoon were better?

 153

    ¡°Generally, items work the same on both worlds,¡± said the lady behind the private sales desk of the Artificer¡¯s Guild. Her name was Julie, and she was maybe 30 years old. ¡°This is a gross oversimplification, though, and mana pressure does play a key role in the viability of a magical item. Generally, items work better on Daihoon, because then they don¡¯t have to deal with negative mana pressure. But that is not the whole story at all.

    ¡°In my professional opinion, the problem most people encounter with the viability of magical items is a matter of survivor¡¯s bias; people who use items on Daihoon know not to trust them overmuch, while people on Earth can use items to fantastic effect, what with the weaker monsters and all that, so many earth-born fighters get overconfident when they get a new trinket. And then they die.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of the first things we tell everyone trying to buy items; filling gaps in defense is great, and so is enhancing strengths, but miracles are better handled by gods. Don¡¯t expect miracles born of mortal hands.¡±

    Mark and Isoko had walked over to Castle South just before noon, while Eliot was back in the room, sleeping off a particularly intense morning of building. The main tram station had needed a lot more work than what anyone had expected, but it was up and running now, and trams were zipping across all of the settlement and coming back to the station to roost.

    Castle South was the main governmental and sales building of the settlement, and it was a lot busier now that people could get to Castle South without needing to walk there. Some of those offices were always busy, though, like the Artificer¡¯s Guild, which was on the ground floor. It had a big exterior entrance and an interior entrance, to the courtyard in the center of the castle.

    Mark and Isoko had shown up ten minutes ago, looking to ask questions and maybe buy things that were displayed on the walls and under glass. One short talk with the saleswoman out front had gotten Mark and Isoko in to talk with this woman, Julie, in an office to the side. She was their ¡®randomly assigned caseworker¡¯, according to the lady out front. Mark wondered how ¡®random¡¯ it had been, since the randomizer had been an artifact made by artificers, but he ignored those paranoid thoughts for now.

    Everyone got a caseworker on their first step into the Artificer¡¯s Guild, and Mark and Isoko were no exception.

    Upon hearing Julie¡¯s talk of how items weren¡¯t miracles, Mark could understand why new people got caseworkers to start. Someone needed to tell every person looking to get an edge that they should not rely on those edges.

    ¡°We are not looking for miracles,¡± Mark said, speaking for himself and Isoko.

    Julie nodded, and continued, ¡°Most items will break when exposed to any sort of strong monster at all. All items are sold with the disclaimer that they will not jump you up a grade at all. They¡¯ll only help you survive monsters within your grade, and maybe not even then.¡± With a stronger voice, Julie finished, ¡°And yet, maybe with some proper items, you can counter the items of other people, like Grand Mage¡¯s Solari¡¯s son, for instance.¡±

    Mark and Isoko both had a moment.

    And then Mark frowned. ¡°Everyone is talking about that ¡®fight¡¯ with Tartu, huh.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± Julie said, excited. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of good gossip happening everywhere, but that¡¯s the big ticket story right now.¡±

    Mark had tried to not notice the way people looked at him when he walked around the settlement, either to the commissary of Castle North for groceries and food, or anywhere else. People looked at him all the time, actually, so Mark had gotten good at ignoring how people looked at him. But from their time on the Grey Whale to post-Tartu, things had changed, and Mark hadn¡¯t wanted to notice that change¡ª

    With perfect interest, but with a calm facade, Julie placidly asked, ¡°Would you have cut off his feet?¡±

    Mark should have snorted and said ¡®no way!¡¯ but he wasn¡¯t feeling that charitable at the moment. He was feeling suddenly distrustful. Tartu had used items to fuck Mark over. Had Tartu gotten them here? Or made them here? Or¡­ or something like that?

    Mark asked, ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a bet going with a friend.¡±

    She said it with such lack of inflection that it felt like an interrogation tactic, like she was trying to get the baseline story and not influence the story as it came out.

    Mark was a bit weirded out by that, but his sudden distrust didn¡¯t seem all that important, since he¡¯d be surely buying a lot of stuff from the Artificer¡¯s Guild going forward. He doubted they would want to be antagonistic. Julie was probably just wondering if Mark was psychotic, or not.

    With that in mind, Mark said, ¡°I thought the fight was just going to be some punching and whatever, with light Power usage. If he would have come at me without¡­ what he did¡­ then I would have taken the dive¡­¡± A rage inflamed Mark¡¯s voice, but Mark managed to cap most of that rage. With a frown, Mark said, ¡°He might have beaten me fairly. I¡¯ve lost spars before. Loss is not new. Domainer is a strong Skill! I would have loved to fight him for real, instead of¡­ what happened. So, no. I wouldn¡¯t have cut off his feet if I had won. That¡¯s just a persona... But now? I called him a thief as a part of the act, but¡­ Whatever I do, it¡¯ll be something that puts him out of commission for 2 days, just like he did to me.¡±

    Julie got more than she asked for, and she was absolutely delighted. She tried to keep her face even. She tried to keep her vector calm. But she was excited. Her lips turned up in a slight smile that she had to fight to keep off of her face. She relaxed as much as she could, and then she said, ¡°One moment.¡±

    Julie got up from her desk. She rapidly left through a door in the back of her office¡ª

    She came right back, the doorway briefly showing an artificer¡¯s room in the back, with a wall of drawers and a lathe and some other machinery, and then the door shut.

    ¡°This is what you want, and it¡¯s 25,000 points,¡± Julie said, as she set a trinket down on the desk between them.

    The object was primarily a drop of liquid sunlight about the size of a fingernail, surrounded by a cage of silver spiderwebs and attached to a thin chain that did not seem to be a part of the trinket. The chain was plain silver. Mark wasn¡¯t sure what the amulet was. It was clearly magical, and at a 25k price tag, it was expensive as fuck, too.

    Julie continued, ¡°It¡¯s a spellbreaker, done in the classical style. There¡¯s a lot of nuance to these things, but their basic action is to absorb a single instance of negatively-influenced Power cast upon the wearer and to provide immunity from the effect that triggered the protection for about 2 seconds. Maybe 3 seconds. They have so many caveats to what they can do that they aren¡¯t in use much these days. They¡¯re a general solution to a million different possible issues, so pretty much every individualized protection you can buy does a lot better against individualized problems. If you know what you¡¯re going up against, you should buy a specific defense, and leave the spellbreaker for emergencies.

    ¡°Mind Shields, for instance. You want a Mind Shield when you¡¯re going up against Mind monsters. You want a Power Level Shield when you¡¯re going up against strong monsters, and you need a higher Body to shrug off claws and some incidental Knack or otherwise. Other popular protective devices are Tech Guards that prevent tampering with your phones, or other such things, and Auto-Antidotes, that clear up most miasma and poison and toxins. A truly good Auto-Antidote can clear up parasites, too.

    ¡°This spellbreaker will survive a trip to Earth, but it will take a month to gain a single charge in the ambient mana of Earth, instead of passively gaining a charge over 12 hours, like it does here on Daihoon.

    ¡°This is what it looks like when charged. This shining light.

    ¡°It only has one charge.

    ¡°One charge will protect you from one directed, harmful instance of magic that overcomes your own defenses. Since you have a high all-around Power Level as a tri-Skilled then it shouldn¡¯t activate too often, but when it does activate the spellbreaker will offer complete protection against whatever tried to harm you for about 2 seconds. Maybe 3 seconds if it¡¯s been charged up for a few days.

    ¡°And that is the most basic rundown I can give you about this item in a single minute. There¡¯s a lot more to it than that.

    ¡°Spellbreakers are based on the Spell known as Protect.¡±

    Mark stared at the drop of caged light, wondering a lot of things. Protection against a single effect sounded pretty lame, but¡­ also pretty amazing, actually, now that Mark thought about it. 2 seconds of being immune to Tartu¡¯s Domain would have saved him that fight. And for 25k points? Not a bad price!

    Mark almost had 25k¡­

    He kinda really wanted this spellbreaker thingy.

    Mark looked up at Julie and asked, ¡°If I wear this and rush Tartu, it¡¯ll protect me from his Domain?¡±

    ¡°For about 2 seconds; Absolutely,¡± Julie said, delighted to talk about kicking Tartu¡¯s ass. ¡°But it won¡¯t stop him from throwing something else at you, triggering the spellbreaker, and then throwing something stronger at you. That¡¯s provided he knows about the spellbreaker in the first place, though. Spellbreakers are fantastic against monsters and even against people, but if someone does their research then they can trigger your breaker on something that doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    Mark huh¡¯d, mumbling, ¡°He could just waste a wand¡­¡±

    And if other people tried to rob Mark, then they¡¯d do their research beforehand, too, and they¡¯d bring extra wands, or whatever, to try and trigger the spellbreaker before he actually needed it against the debilitating magics.

    Mark asked, ¡°Could you wear multiples of these?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes, and no,¡± Julie said. ¡°What you are talking about is an item known as a sequenced spellbreaker. Those things get ruinously expensive for anything above 3 breakers. It¡¯s much more economic to get a double sequencer and then a standard shield to buff every Power Level to a minimum of 50. A double sequencer and a standard shield costs 95k for the sequencer and just 2,500 for a standard shield. Shields that go higher than 50 PL rapidly balloon in price, up to 25k for a baseline of 60 in every Power Level, to 250k for a baseline of 75 in every Power Level.¡±

    Mark¡¯s current Power Levels were, Body 062, Shaper 090, Mind 79, Natural 091, Arcane 67, and Arch 49.

    He didn¡¯t need a basic shield and a good shield was too expensive.

    Tartu was probably at a 95 in Arch, which is why his Power was able to work so well on Mark. If Mark was just a normal Union-user, then his Arch levels would have been even lower, at maybe something like 25, and Tartu never would have needed to use those debuffers to get him low enough to affect with Domain. Tartu could have just used his Power right at the start of the fight and won that way.

    Mark would need to spend 250k to get a Shield to raise his Arch up to 75, to make it even tougher for Tartu to affect him¡­ And honestly, Mark wanted one of those kinds of shields, anyway. He was usually using Union to buff himself in all Power Level categories, but redundancy was awesome. Redundancy might have saved him when Tartu shut down his Union, too.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡­ It was kinda neat that this stuff even existed. That these were options to be had.

    Expensive as fuck, but still neat!

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to put the good shield on hold until after I get an Obsidian Card. The sequencer, too,¡± Mark said. ¡°But I¡¯m interested in a single spellbreaker, probably tuned to a pretty high tolerance.¡±

    Julie¡¯s vector and face both seemed pleased with that decision. ¡°You want to win against Tartu, yes? I want to help. Do you know what wands Tartu used against you?¡±

    Mark was slightly concerned that Julie seemed to be involving herself directly in Mark¡¯s vendetta because he didn¡¯t really know her at all. But Mark was willing to roll with it, for a little while. Isoko seemed to be willing to let it happen, too; she sat silently, listening and watching.

    Mark guessed, ¡°General debuffing wands?¡±

    ¡°I saw the video, and he did not use general wands at all,¡± Julie said, her vector focused. ¡°If you tell me exactly how they made you feel, I can probably guess them.¡±

    Eliot had had some guesses about those wands, too, but they weren¡¯t exact. Tartu made his wands himself, or someone made them for him in a non-standard way, because all Eliot could tell were the effects the wands had on Mark. Eliot had thought they might have been a general weakness wand, as in a weakening of Power Levels, and also a specific sort of sense-deadening wand. The Artificer¡¯s Guild had those kinds of wands for sale for 8k points and 5k points, respectively, but they also had a bunch of other wands, such as anti-pain and anti-sight, which also could have been what Tartu used against Mark.

    Mark rolled past his own discomfort, saying, ¡°It was all foggy. But yeah, I felt¡­ pressure, really. Not much more than that. I was in darkness and unable to feel much at all. No up or down or¡­ or anything, really.¡±

    With her eyes lighting up in absolute conviction, Julie said, ¡°Anti-sense and Weak-to-Skills! Those are the wands he used against you! Ah ha!¡±

    She was way too happy about that.

    Mark eyed her.

    Julie paused. She lightly cleared her throat and then whispered, ¡°Sorry¡ª¡± She continued, ¡°It was a sequence of Skills that built upon each other, you see. He used Anti-sense first because if he had used Weak-to-Skills first then you would have been unable to feel anything at all, because Weak-to-Skills would have increased the effect of Anti-sense. In that case, you would have been locked in a black void, completely insensate, but you still would have been moving around and in control of your body. Therefore, he did Anti-sense first, because he wanted to use Weak-to-Skills to make you vulnerable to his Domain, which is what kept you from being able to use your astral body at all. It was probably a Domain against you, specifically you. Domainer can do that. He didn¡¯t actually use a Skill-Weakener at all, and probably because you were already buffing your PLs with Union.

    ¡°And that¡¯s how he won!¡±

    As she announced her professional opinion, Julie was so happy with herself that Mark almost wasn¡¯t furious at being reminded about the ¡®fight¡¯.

    Having a professional artifact maker and user give a professional opinion about Tartu¡¯s actions¡­ was kinda comforting, actually.

    Mark kinda liked Julie¡ª

    ¡°What¡¯s your stake in this?¡± Isoko asked, with a carefully even tone.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Julie said, ¡°Sorry, sorry. Uh¡­ yes. It¡¯s probably odd¡­¡±

    Julie looked down at the spellbreaker for a moment, her vector turning inward, and deep. She was considering if she wanted to lie, or not. Mark had seen that type of vector before, and Lola had instructed him about that type of vector before so that he would know it when he saw it¡­ So she was either considering if she wanted to lie, or could be considering how deep of a truth she wanted to tell.

    Either or, really.

    Julie looked up at Mark and told what might have been the truth, ¡°I was trying to buy kel-essence at the depot but Tartu bought everything they had in stock! I mean, sure, kel-essence is pretty damned plentiful, and they got a restock in that afternoon after some guys ran to the Shine and harvested some, but it¡¯s the principle of the thing. He bought the entire stock¡­ And you have no basis for understanding that, uh. Sorry. Anyway¡­ I kinda¡­¡± She paused. She said, ¡°Anyway. I complained to him, and he told me that he was there first! Can you believe that shit! Who buys out the full stock of anything at a settlement? In the wilds? That¡¯s the problem I have with him. I can kind of understand buying everything in a normal store because this sure as shit doesn¡¯t feel like the wilds, what with shops and stone castles, but we¡¯re still at least two days away from civilization¡­ And I¡¯m rambling. But you get it, right? He bought out the whole stock of something, and then he downed you for 2 days. One of our primary defensive people! Everyone knows what your Union feels like, Mister Careed, and it¡­ It¡¯s really empowering, really.¡±

    Ah.

    Well¡­

    Yeah.

    Tartu definitely needed to be kicked in the balls¡ª

    Isoko lightly glared. ¡°And?¡±

    Julie rapidly said, ¡°And I prefer the villains in the HVP. The dramatic shit really gets me.¡±

    Ah, so¡­ Sure. That¡¯s fine, too.

    Isoko relaxed.

    Mark kinda relaxed, too.

    Isoko said, ¡°I prefer the villains, too.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Julie said, smiling again.

    Mark felt a lot more comfortable, now that he knew Julie¡¯s reasons. ¡°So what was your bet about, anyway?¡±

    ¡°One of my friends over at the army quartermaster¡¯s office¡ª I bet that you¡¯re a good guy, and you wouldn¡¯t actually cut off anyone¡¯s feet¡­ At least not for a first offense. My friend was totally ready for you to throw down for real, because you can just heal the people you beat up, right? Chopped legs are not a big deal when you got this much healing going around, like we do here at the settlement. But of course you wouldn¡¯t actually do that! Not for a first fight! That¡¯s psycho behavior.¡± Julie pulled back, shaking her head. ¡°But then Tartu went and did what he did, and he almost would have gotten away with it, too, but Aurora was there to piss in his beer and that was absolutely fantastic.¡±

    Mark grinned a little¡ª

    ¡°I want one of the spellbreakers, too,¡± Isoko said. ¡°I don¡¯t have 25k. What kind of quests do you have to make up the difference?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Uh?¡± Julie smiled a little, and said, ¡°I can absolutely do quests.¡± She pulled out a tablet and started tapping away. ¡°Let¡¯s see what the Guild needs and what¡¯s been scouted¡ª Ah!¡± She looked to Mark. ¡°Are you interested in a spellbreaker, too, Mister Careed?¡±

    Mark had no trouble saying, ¡°Yes, and I¡¯ll take the quest discount, too¡ª I would like to know the full capabilities of one of these spellbreakers, though.¡±

    ¡°Certainly! The base item is a mithril spellframe around a synth-crystal core. I¡¯d go into more detail than that, but then we¡¯d be getting into Mage Secrecy Contracts and so, I will digress. As for capabilities, I am able to speak on those a lot more freely. The spellbreaker charges off of your own astral body, and it will react to your astral body being attacked in a way that your astral body cannot naturally fend off, which occurs when your self is suppressed in a deadly sort of way. It will not react to a Stone Shaper slapping you with a stone bat, but it will react to a Water Shaper trying to grievously harm your body through control of your blood or other bodily fluids. It will not react to a Minder trying to get you to ignore them but it will react to a Minder trying to alter your normal reactions, unless, of course, you have the breaker tuned to a very high tolerance. I suggest everyone to buy a Mind Charm eventually. Some people need it more than others, and it will work with a spellbreaker just fine.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°What does ¡®grievously harm¡¯ mean?¡±

    Julie smiled a little bit, saying, ¡°A simple bloodletting will not trigger the Protect, but cardiac arrest will cause the gem to burst with light which will then insulate your astral body and physical body from further manipulation. That¡¯s all depending on the various tolerance settings, of course, and...¡±

    Over the next half hour Mark and Isoko both asked questions and Julie did her best to answer them.

    Spellbreakers were fantastic and Mark absolutely wanted one, but¡­

    They had issues.

 154

    Mark paused the video on the screen in the living room, saying, ¡°So I still want one, but it¡¯s gonna be super high tolerance, and yet, if it is, then it might not work how I want it to work.¡±

    Sally, Eliot, and Isoko were all seated around watching the video with him. It was a 48 minute long video about spellbreakers that Mark had found on the web, and it had been filled with graphics and historical imagery and information for the modern era, because spellbreakers were based on one of the Prime Ancient Magics, Protect, and they had been around for thousands of years. Spellbreakers had mostly fallen out of favor in the modern era because individualized protective magics were simply better in a lot of ways, but the old magics were still great in certain situations.

    One of the main parts of the video had been explaining how Protect actually worked. They had used a diagram of a house made of doors, which was a stand-in for a person and their astral body. Just like a person¡¯s astral body, the house had some doors that were heavily guarded and used all the time, but others that were weak and unused. Those corresponded mainly to the 6 Power Levels a person could have.

    Protect guarded the entire house with the same strength.

    Individualized defensive magics guarded specific doors and because they guarded specific doors those specific protections could be made very strong; the nuanced-¡®Protect¡¯ would only be Protecting one door instead of dozens. Like a Mind Shield, or Charm, or any other kind of Mind Protection artifact, would center the Protect around that specific door, instead of around all of the entire house.

    ¡°Flight magic and Protect magic,¡± Isoko said, as though she had made a big decision. ¡°That¡¯s the magic that I want to learn, now.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d probably work well for you, Isoko¡­ Mark too, actually,¡± Sally said, ¡°With our normal PLs in Mind, if Eliot or I wore a basic spellbreaker it¡¯d pop all the time.¡±

    ¡°I already have a basic Freyalan Shield and this Mind Charm, but I could get something better after I get my Obsidian Card,¡± Eliot said, ¡°But a spellbreaker is still a good idea. Really high tolerance, though¡ª Oh!¡± Eliot made grabby hands toward Mark and the controller. ¡°Gimme! I need to see something.¡±

    Mark handed the clicker over, smirking a little bit, knowing that Eliot was just being polite and he didn¡¯t actually need to put hands on the controller to change the video. Sure enough, the second Eliot touched the controller the screen flicked, Eliot¡¯s control rippling through the feed¡ª The screen settled down on a different video. Based on the title, it was video #7 in a 19-video series, based on the uses of adamantium in enchanting.

    ¡®Adamantium In Protective Magics¡¯ was queued to minute 19 of 78.

    Eliot exclaimed, ¡°Yes! I knew there¡¯d be something.¡± He explained, ¡°I checked on this series a while ago but I completely forgot about it after watching the first video. The first one was good, and my Power is telling me that this one might be relevant. You probably want to watch all of them, Mark.¡±

    Eliot pressed play.

    A man¡¯s voice began, ¡°Protect is one of the most vulnerable and yet valuable magics out there because it allows for true defense against big dangers. If you have been watching our series, then you will already know that adamantium can be eminently useful when crafting defensive items. Spellbreakers and their derivatives are no exception...¡±

    By the end of the show, Mark knew two things.

    He needed to watch the entire series. That viewing marathon was probably going to take him several weeks and he would probably watch the video on forging adamantium multiple times, but he would get it done. Mark needed to add this video series to the self-study programs that Tulo Khava, the Armsmaster of the army, had told him about.

    Mostly, Mark decided he wanted a spellbreaker made of adamantium.

    Maybe even a growth-aspected spellbreaker. Wouldn¡¯t that be neat!

    Mark didn¡¯t really need a ¡®growth¡¯ weapon since he could make whatever tools he needed when he needed them. But a growth artifact that would get better as it was used? Yes please! A growth spellbreaker, specifically, would get better at offering complete immunity to life-ending magics, only when needed. So yes, Mark needed one of those. He needed to find someone who could make such a growth item, too, which seemed like a very tall ask according to the video.

    Maybe someone in the settlement could do it.

    But a spellbreaker made of mithril would be fine for starters, for now.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    - - - -

    Mark stepped off of the tram near Castle North and looked up at the big structure. It was part goods depot, quartermaster headquarters, grocery and provisions commissary, and also sky port. The Grey Whale hovered in the sky, attached to the highest parts of Castle North, shadowing the land. The ship¡¯s guns formed the base of any major defensive or offensive operation, while the ship itself would also serve as trading ship when the settlement finally settled and started sending things back to Crytalis. People were still the majority of the settlement¡¯s defense, though; the ship was too expensive and vital for the lives of everyone here to use it for normal fights.

    Eventually, when they got more ships, the Grey Whale would form the backbone of the kaiju defense squad that would protect the land on this side, when the portals opened to Memphi and trade flowed through to Earth. That was going to be a big day¡­ but for now, the ship was just up there, in the air, mostly out of the way. Not many people up there.

    There were lots of people down here on ground level, though. Most of them were buying or selling basic goods, or bringing in harvests from outside the settlement, or they were picking up their allotted food supplies from the Agriculture and Resource Management store. ARM sold basic goods, not allowing anyone to take more than their allotment, but overflow was always for sale in the shops to the sides. There was a lot of overflow.

    Reeni Thumb, the farmers, and the Farmers of Verdago, were very good about getting a lot of food to market. From rows upon rows of chilled vegetables, keeping them cool and dry, to big bags of flour and rice, there was a lot to offer. They even had big, clear fish tanks taking up a wall of the shop, but those fish tanks were empty¡­

    Mark frowned a little, looking at the empty, illuminated waters.

    He needed to get back to feeding the fish every day. The fish population was booming as the lake filled in more and more, and the Farmers of Verdago were making them breed and grow at an accelerated rate, but all that growth and expansion needed food to make it happen. A bunch of acolytes and paladins of Freyala were already on the job working the farms right alongside the Farmers, but Mark wanted to be out there, too.

    ¡­ Later.

    Right now he was here, going out for a different sort of job.

    ¡­ A lot of people looked his way, for everyone recognized him, and he was in full battle mode, wearing his black underarmor and ceramic plating. He was ready to hunt. A lot of people in the depot were either ready to go out hunting, too, or they were coming back in with their kills, or their body parts, either floating on temporary hoverplates, or carried over shoulders, in cold boxes, or in big backpack baskets.

    Mark mostly ignored how people did double takes looking at him.

    ¡°Do you see our contact?¡± Mark asked Isoko.

    Isoko walked beside Mark. It was just Mark and Isoko, today. Eliot was working on the computer systems in Castle South, and Sally was with him. Isoko and Mark were going to get some discounts for their spellbreakers.

    They just needed to find their contact, first.

    Isoko hummed as she looked around. ¡°Nope. Don¡¯t see¡ª Oop! There they are.¡± Isoko smiled and waved.

    A tall, thin woman, maybe 25, waved back. She wore hunting leathers and a cape made of ribbons of leather, with a giant bow on her back and a quiver filled with arrows on her hip. Except for the bow and arrows it was a pretty standard outfit here in the settlement. Blendcoats, like the cape she wore, were sold at a deep discount to anyone who wanted one, because Aurora wanted people to be able to hide more than she wanted them to be able to kill. Running from monsters was often the better option, if you got outgunned. Mark didn¡¯t have one yet, and neither did Isoko. Neither of them really considered getting one, either.

    But Mark and Isoko both probably needed a blendcoat.

    The woman was Barba Sacredcut, and she was a Skilled Hunter. She was also a halfer with a specific magic to her; a minor mage capable of Harvesting from monsters. She was the younger sister of Julie Sacredcut, the caseworker who had turned Mark and Isoko on to spellbreakers. As befitting the younger sister of an artificer, Barba was absolutely loaded with artifacts of all kinds.

    Mark felt better for working with Julie knowing that she was sending them out with her sister. The Sacredcuts were apparently a minor noble house, so there were a bunch of them here in the settlement.

    Barba met Mark and Isoko half way, saying, ¡°Greetings, Mark, Isoko. A pleasure to meet you.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°A pleasure to meet you too, Barba. Your sister had a lot of good things to say about you.¡±

    Barba seemed to soften a little. ¡°Yeah.¡± And then she stood up straight. ¡°We¡¯re hunting hollow gourds today. You read about them?¡±

    ¡°We have,¡± Mark said. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to making plants grow to harvest them. I wasn¡¯t aware that was an option.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a dangerous option, but as long as you can Union with them while also running away at a fast rate, then we should be fine. They won¡¯t even bother me while I pluck them, since I will be moving in certain ways and you will have their attention. We can talk about all of that more on the way out. And of course I still need someone at my side, and that would be you, yes, Isoko?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Isoko said, nodding.

    And then Barba paused, hesitant to ask her next question. She blurted it out, anyway. ¡°You still have enough adamantium to run around on? Your¡­ uh¡­ brother restocked you?¡±

    It was a loaded question.

    Mark simply said, ¡°I can hover around well enough.¡±

    And that was all he said.

    Barba waited for more¡­ but then she realized she was not getting more. She stood straight and said, ¡°Then we¡¯re off! Tram to the south gate then half an hour-ish at a speedy run down south. We¡¯re headed toward a lake.¡±

 155

    Getting to the lake had been as easy as a morning jog.

    But Isoko was kinda worried about Mark, and in the usual sort of way.

    Mark was directly inside the edge of a shit storm of global proportions, and he was getting maneuvered against and with by tens of different forces, Isoko had no fucking clue exactly who, or how many people were in play, or their allegiances or goals.

    At least the guy was doing okay on the battlefield.

    Right now, Mark had all of 450 grams of adamantium to his name, according to what he had told Isoko this morning, and he was flying around just fine, while a horde of vine monsters tangled after him.

    With black veins pulsing from below his armor plates, into the air, and into the plants covering the ground like they were tangled mats, Mark flowed across the battlefield, under the bright sun. The vines writhed at him, trying to reach for him, to grab and constrict, to hold tight and never let go. Isoko watched as a particularly large specimen, looking like a hovercar-sized mound of writhing snakes, whipped at Mark as he passed by, and Mark clipped off the longest, most thorn-covered vines that came for him. The monster didn¡¯t like that. It rumbled and writhed, and then it fell into the tangled chase with all the other hollow gourds.

    Isoko and Barba¡¯s trip through the vine field was completely different from Mark¡¯s.

    Isoko walked calmly over barely-moving green vines while wearing a giant backpack that was half-filled with head-sized gourds. They had only been at this gathering job for 20 minutes. According to Barba, the vines would normally try to eat both of them, since they were here among them, but Mark was doing a very good job of drawing attention.

    Monster plants loved a good Union-user, after all.

    Barba walked a little ahead of Isoko, softly stepping across the vines, making sure not to step on the largest of vines. Those were the main vines that connected the mobile plant to its main root systems underground. Stepping on those would draw their attention no matter how well Mark gripped their focus.

    Isoko watched as Barba stuck her stick into the side of a mound, lifted it up, and discovered a hollow, instead of a hollow gourd. With a tsk, Barba pulled her stick back and the vines writhed back into a mound shape. Barba looked across the field, then she looked at Mark, then she turned left, away from Mark, her vector pointed toward a mound that they hadn¡¯t gotten to yet. Or maybe they had. It was hard to tell, with how much these things moved around.

    Barba walked toward the next mound, avoiding the thick vines on the ground as she spoke conversationally, ¡°So I didn¡¯t know how to tell him, but¡­ I hope he kicks Tartu¡¯s ass.¡±

    Isoko had been politely waiting for Barba or Julie Sacredcut to show who they were, and while Julie had showed herself a little, Barba was just getting started. Isoko was pretty sure the Sacredcuts were dragon cultists and that there was some political reasoning behind Tartu¡¯s attack, and that Tartu and Grand Mage Solari might be anti-cultists, but there were at least ten other things she didn¡¯t know about what was happening, from Aurora¡¯s tax on HVP winnings, to whatever was going on with the Grand Mage¡¯s unwillingness to speak to Mark¡­ But Isoko knew that if she was quiet and receptive, then the answers would come to her.

    Isoko had been a rather violent person back at Citadel Freyala, back when she was trying to come to terms with her Platinum Body. That internal anger had caused her to taunt Mark, looking for a real fight, to test her capabilities and to see how shitty Platinum Body was¡­ But Isoko was mostly over her issues with Platinum Body. She had a PL at 75 across the board, and that was incredibly useful¡­

    But not too useful in navigating these political mires.

    Back when Grandma was younger, even the young ¡®Wandering Sage¡¯ would have ripped up buildings and shook Tartu across the sky if he had attacked her like that. Nowadays Grandma just sent rain onto an enemy¡¯s life if they ticked her off too much. A lot of rain didn¡¯t do much at first, but after a few days the floods started, and then the landslides came, and if she was feeling particularly vicious, lightning would fall just where she wanted it to fall, too.

    Grandma had never killed anyone ¡ªthat Isoko knew about¡ª but she had certainly caused billions of goldleaf in property damage.

    Platinum Princess needed to play the game smarter than Wandering Sage, though.

    Gods knew that Mark wasn¡¯t playing the game much at all. Isoko didn¡¯t blame him for that; not yet, anyway. She liked that he was such a good guy.

    Too good to cut Tartu¡¯s feet off, for sure.

    Isoko said, ¡°Got any ideas about how to incapacitate Tartu for 2 days?¡±

    Barba snorted. ¡°I heard about that from Julie¡­¡± She approached the mound of vines, stuck her stick into the mound, lifted it up, and uncovered a large gourd, bright red under the writhing green vines. The vines flinched at being exposed, but that was all they did. Barba was happy. ¡°Ah ha! That¡¯s a good one.¡±

    Barba flexed her empty hand and blue sparkles covered her skin. With a practice reach, and after checking her footing, she moved in and grabbed for the gourd. Blue sparkles soaked into the red fruit, illuminating the gourd and the dark under the vines. The gourd popped off and rolled into her hand, like a magnet slapping against metal. The vines did not react at all, which was only possible because of Barba¡¯s Harvester spellwork.

    After checking her surroundings once again, Barba pulled back and extracted the rod holding up the mound. The mound of vines fell back to the ground and went flat, while Barba stepped back and Isoko turned a little, exposing her backpack.

    Barba put the gourd with the rest, saying, ¡°I don¡¯t know about incapacitating anyone for 2 days. It¡¯s just¡­ beyond the Program, isn¡¯t it? That sort of thing was too vicious.¡±

    ¡°Shavallian costs way too much or we¡¯d just use that. But, if you have a contact, we might do that. Can any of your contacts brew it?¡±

    Barba shook her head. ¡°Nope. That¡¯s alchemy. We¡¯re artificers.¡± She asked, ¡°Is Aurora not doing anything? She basically stole Mark¡¯s weaponry. All of us thought she¡¯d give it back, but¡­ She told everyone that she wasn¡¯t giving it back at all.¡± She looked at Mark. ¡°But he got more adamantium?¡±

    Isoko decided to go ahead and spread the preferred rumor that Mark had talked about a few times already. ¡°More just appears sometimes. You know Mark was summoned because of that talzarki magic, right? We think it works the other way, too.¡±

    Barba¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°¡­ Oh.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me why dragons are how they are, or for what purposes. Who really knows these things, ya know?¡±

    Barba was quiet. Then she said, ¡°Some people know a lot about dragons, they just don¡¯t like to advertise it because dragons are the enemy.¡±

    ¡­ Was she a cultist?

    Isoko had never met one of those¡­ and known about it, anyway.

    Barba said nothing for several more gourd grabs, and Isoko didn¡¯t pressure her at all. Soon, Isoko¡¯s backpack was quite full. Mark was still racing away from plants and he seemed to be having fun with that, which was great for him but still made Isoko feel some kinda way.

    Isoko tried not to be too jealous.

    She was happier to have her family. Deals with archmages and demons were bad news, and Mark had learned that in the hardest of ways¡ª

    Barba spoke suddenly, ¡°The Valens were the biggest dragon cultists around for the longest time.¡±

    ¡°They were the mortal family of Gedahowla the Bright, right? The Dragon God Emperor of Aluatha, back before her coven killed her in the Reveal.¡±

    Barba frowned a little. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ The Aluathas are the Imperial Family. The Valens are a branch¡­¡± Softer, Barba said, ¡°There are other branch families out there that know a lot about dragons.¡±

    Isoko came right out and asked, ¡°The Sacredcuts?¡±

    Barba stilled. Then she said, ¡°I think we have enough gourds.¡± She turned toward Mark, still flying out there in the distance, still getting chased by vine plants that tumbled all over each other to get closer to him. Barba watched for a moment, and then she turned and faced Isoko, her vector focused. Barba asked, ¡°Are you or Sally trying to be his wife?¡±

    ¡­ What?

    Isoko choked on nothing at all, her laughter colliding with her disbelief. Then she laughed once, and said, ¡°I tried! He¡¯s cute, yeah?¡±

    Barba¡¯s face turned a little red. She did not answer the question.

    - - - -

    It felt great to ¡®fly¡¯ again, even if Mark was only a few meters off of the ground and he had been actively evading vine gourds for the last hour. Killing the gourds was out of the question. They were a farmed monster. And so, Mark flew in a circle around the lake while beating his heart in a Union of sustenance and deprivation, and breathing resilience and weakness. He spread the sustenance around, pulling from the world and giving to the gourds, and they gave chase. Monster plants loved to eat healers that got too close. Healers were a great source of nourishment, after all, what with that regenerating flesh and such, and some people, like Mark, could heal and sustain the plants directly.

    It was the first time Mark had ever purposefully healed monster plants. This was a nice experience.

    Every single gourd in the nearest 200 meters was focused on Mark, exclusively, their tendrils slapping toward him, their vectors pointed his way in a tumult of desire to consume. If he slowed down at all, these things would slap their thorn-covered tendrils on him and drag him down to bleed him dry, trying to take for themselves what they didn¡¯t realize they couldn¡¯t have.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    They were just plants, though, so Mark forgave them for not understanding that they shouldn¡¯t kill the golden goose¡­ And yet, from the stories Mark had heard, maybe they wouldn¡¯t try to kill him. Maybe they would just trap him? Hard to know without finding out directly, and Mark didn¡¯t want to¡ª

    Up ahead, in the direction he was going, the tide of vines shifted and began to bunch up, preparing to leap at him as he came their way. Mark had discovered that the bigger monsters could clear a good 7-meter hop, and reach further with their vines, but Mark saw the trap for what it was.

    Mark angled to the right and dragged the attention of the entire herd of vines with him. It was like he was a magnet in a suspension of iron filings. The jumper vine realized that Mark wasn¡¯t coming its way anymore. The vines of the big one uncoiled, its prepared jumping power bleeding away as it realized it was not in a position to grab Mark anymore.

    There were four truly big ones out here, and only one of them had been prepared to leap at Mark. The other three were still in the piles of vines out there, waiting for their chances along with their smaller brethren. The jumper vine grumbled, hissing and rumbling at the same time as it went back to a flowing slither.

    ...rrrRRRRrrrrshshshsh...

    It was a weird sound.

    Mark smiled.

    And then he caught sight of the only two vectors in the area not focused on him.

    Isoko and Barba were on the edges of Mark¡¯s herding, poking at the slower hollow gourd vines. The big basket on Isoko¡¯s back was pretty full. They probably had a hundred gourds in there. They had harvested a few vines twice, too, since Mark¡¯s Union had allowed them to produce extra fruit, and quickly.

    Over the last hour, Mark had made the vines fruit, the fruited vines walked away to be harvested (or really just to not disturb their cargo of seeds), and then after being harvested, and without fruit, they gave chase to Mark all over again. They had gone through at least one cycle of gourd growth in this way...

    Mark wondered when enough was enough.

    Maybe soon?

    Not five minutes later, while Mark was on the other side of the lake, Isoko¡¯s vector slammed into Mark, connecting to him with her Union and dragging his attention her way.

    That was the signal! It was a full harvest. Time to go!

    By the time Mark flew around to Isoko and Barba¡¯s side of the lake, they were mostly out of the vines. Mark did another lap around the lake to allow them more time to fully escape, and when he came back their way they were far from the herd. Mark disconnected from the herd and then he flew away, too.

    Disconnecting from the vines caused a spectacle, as Barba had already said it would.

    The vines freaked out. Which way to go? Where was the prey! Vines slashed everywhere! Neighbor struck neighbor! Vines tangled in vines, and gradually, they released. Mark could practically sense their thoughts, if a plant could ever really have a thought besides stimulus-response¡­ But these were monster plants and they were capable of some higher order thinking, so yeah. Maybe they were actually, truly wondering where the prey had gone.

    Mark smiled a little as he raced away from the hollow gourd lake.

    Soon, he was far away from the beasts.

    Isoko and Barba were already a kilometer away from the nest, waiting for him, Isoko all platinum and Barba looking incredibly pleased.

    Mark sat down next to them, smiling. ¡°That¡¯s enough, then?¡±

    Barba bowed toward Mark, speaking toward the ground, ¡°It was a pleasure to work with you, sir.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Uh. It was a pleasure to, uh, work with you¡ª why are you bowing?¡±

    Barba straightened up and paused. She looked like she was considering a lie. But then she turned and started running back toward the city.

    ¡­ So that was strange?

    Mark stood with Isoko, both of them not moving at all. Mark asked her, ¡°Something happened?¡±

    ¡°It took a while to get from her, but the Sacredcuts are a branch family of the Aluathas, the Imperial Family. There¡¯s a lot of branch families of the Imperial Family. Practically every noble family can trace themselves to the Imperial Family in some way, but some are much closer to the trunk than others.

    ¡°The Valens are the major branch family of the Imperial Family, for they were the mortal family of Gedahowla the Bright, which was the leader of the coven of Witch Dragons that oversaw all of the Aluatha Empire, until the coven imploded and killed Gedahowla in the Reveal.

    ¡°Every single noble family are either dragon cultists or former cultists, and some of them are trying to be a whole lot more ¡®former¡¯ than ¡®current¡¯. Some nobles are still die-hard cultists, but they¡¯re not allowed to show that in public due to Imperial decree. Because of that, there¡¯s a not-so-hidden divide among the nobles of the settlement, and Aurora is walking that divide with how she treats you.

    ¡°Aurora is the most powerful dragon hunter of the current age, and everyone is wondering if she¡¯s trying to resurrect the Imperial Dragon Coven, or keep it dead, because she could make it happen one way or the other, and maybe even by simply by stepping back from her duties, which she is already doing by being the general of the settlement¡­ And that¡¯s all I was able to get. Some of that might be wrong.

    ¡°Also: Barba thinks you¡¯re cute.¡±

    Mark breathed out, taking all of that in. He knew¡­ some of that. In a sideways sort of way. Not directly¡­ He ignored the part about Barba finding him attractive, and asked, ¡°Was she¡­ bowing to me because of¡­ of Addavein?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It sort of came up organically when we talked about your adamantium, and she wondered where you got more. I told her that Addavein teleports adamantium to you sometimes in a semblance of that summoning magic he used on you that one time. She got real quiet and then she opened up.¡± Isoko shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s probably a cultist.¡±

    That would make her the first cultist that Mark had ever met¡­ and known about it, anyway. And yet, Mark hadn¡¯t really met her as a cultist, had he. Isoko had gotten all of that out of her. She had even dropped the lie about Addavein teleporting adamantium to him that they had all agreed to say, which was great. If that rumor spread then Mark could be adamantium blooded in plain sight.

    Mark said, ¡°You¡¯re pretty good at getting people to open up.¡±

    Isoko snorted. ¡°Not the worst thing I¡¯ve been called.¡±

    Mark paused. ¡°¡­ What?¡±

    Isoko paused, too¡­ and then her face heated. She was full platinum right now, carrying a heavy load, but Mark could tell she was embarrassed. ¡°¡­ You didn¡¯t call me manipulative, did you.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Correct. I did not¡ª Do other people usually call you that?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Uh.¡± Isoko changed the subject, ¡°So Barba wants to be a part of your New Imperial Harem, when you get one of those.¡±

    Mark rolled his eyes, and then he moved on, too. ¡°Need help carrying those gourds?¡±

    Isoko rolled her shoulders a little, the hundred-ish gourds in her big backpack moving around a little. Platinum flashes tensed the whole thing solid against her body, but the gourds themselves were loose and slightly blue from Barba¡¯s Harvesting Skill. Isoko said, ¡°I can handle this.¡± She started walking, and it was a lot faster than a normal walk. In moments she was ten meters away from Mark and calling back, ¡°This is good training, slowpoke!¡±

    Isoko speed-walked.

    Mark had to use his caltrops to catch up to Isoko now and again, but he made sure to run with his actual legs, too. Five minutes later they had caught up to Barba. The Hunter¡¯s vector was bouncing all over the place, which was concerning, but not really. She was just worried and¡­ yeah. Mark ignored that. Mark and Isoko joined her into their shared Union, and whatever weirdness had been happening was washed away in a simple, good run.

    Practically no monsters assaulted them in the open grasses between the lake and the south gate of the settlement, which was kinda strange. No monsters had assaulted them on the way out, either.

 156

    Mark, Isoko, and Barba slowed down when they came within sight of the walls, which loomed 50 meters high. The walls were flat on this side, but on the inside they were sloped slightly. The gate ahead was a simple affair; a gentle slope of stone-solid dirt leading up to a 5-meter square hole in the wall. A thick steel gate held above the hole, ready to slam shut if needed. Monitors and scanning systems of all kinds poked out of the walls here and there, making sure that if the gate needed to close, it would close, and it wouldn¡¯t need human intervention to close to prevent incursion.

    The gates of the settlement were almost the same as the gates of Memphi, but on a much smaller scale, and with much fewer people anywhere nearby.

    Mark, Isoko, and Barba, were one of only three groups within sight, and those other two groups were a kilometer outside the wall, and headed out for the evening. Mark and them were the only group going inside right now.

    As Mark walked up the hill, he thought of the hordes of monsters outside of Memphi, and wondered why the same thing wasn¡¯t happening here. They had been told that the monsters only attacked Memphi because of all the people, and there weren¡¯t many people here so there weren¡¯t too many monsters, so that made sense, but¡­ Maybe ¡®the cultist¡¯ would have a different answer?

    Cultists were supposed to be very much outside of Curtain Protocol, after all.

    Mark started with, ¡°The monster density here is really thin! It was in the information packet of the settlement, but it¡¯s still kinda weird to be able to run for 40 minutes and not run into anything worse than some birds and freaky ground squirrels that just avoid us.¡±

    Barba arched an eyebrow. ¡°This is surprising?¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°It¡¯s some sort of magic, isn¡¯t it? Some magic that makes the monsters spawn outside instead of inside? That¡¯s my working theory. Like with Union; you can¡¯t just erase something, you have to move that something around.¡±

    Mark loved it when Isoko backed him up like that.

    Barba furrowed her brow a little, then said, ¡°It¡¯s Castellan. From Hearthswell. The goddess turns off monster spawning inside her Domain, and the mana doesn¡¯t like not being able to touch people, so the demons in the mana make more monsters outside of settlements¡­¡± She drifted off because Mark and Isoko were both staring.

    ¡­ The FUCK?!

    Mark had no fucking clue what to say about that.

    With a quizzical, worried tone, Barba said, ¡°It¡¯s a part of Malaqua ordaining the System? The Protections of Hearthswell? The Consecration of the New Pantheon? The Retaliation of the Demons? ¡­ The War for Life?¡± Pause. ¡°¡­ You did not know this?¡±

    Mark felt some sort of heat. An anger, perhaps. ¡°The demons¡­ control monster spawns? Because Hearthswell protects the cities? So the demons make more monsters outside of cities¡­ of course they do.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a Union-situation at all. There was no redistribution of monster spawns.

    It was a lot simpler than that.

    Mark knew that Hearthswell prevented monsterization inside of cities. That functionality was part of the Castellan enchantments on the walls and in the land. Eliot had been laying down those very same enchantments for the last week, in every building and in every wall and meter of tram track¡­ probably. Mark didn¡¯t see him lay down enchantments, not exactly, but there had been a small container for gold on the tram track vehicle, and that container had needed to be filled up several times over the course of the last few days. Was there a lot of gold in normal construction? Mark wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought not. He never saw gold anywhere on any of the buildings, after all.

    All of that fell under the umbrella of ¡®Hearthswellian Secrets¡¯, though, so Mark never asked about it.

    In a different sort of situation, but in a situation that was poignant to the situation with the monster density outside of cities, Malaqua, the Stone God of the System, was responsible for keeping Curtain Protocol solid. As long as people partook in the ritual of the Curtain, and kept their sight and senses averted from the truth, they¡¯d prevent their astral body from spontaneously Awakening outside of the Tutorial. In that way, a person would be eligible to take the Tutorial and Awaken to a good Power, instead of Awakening to a Knack or a Knowing.

    So Malaqua did more than control how mana functioned in people, and Hearthswell did more than move monster spawns outside of cities. They controlled mana in certain ways.

    The demons in the mana didn¡¯t like being controlled.

    So of course they assaulted the cities with monsters all the time. That¡¯s why there were so many more monster spawns outside of the gates of Memphi, as compared to here. Mark and everyone else had been told that the monster density outside of the settlement would be a lot less than any of them were used to facing outside of Memphi, or any other large city, and¡­ and this was why.

    This was why Eliot was running himself ragged putting up the settlement as fast as he could. Mark had assumed, and Eliot had said, that the settlement just needed proper defenses as fast as possible, and that was true, but it was bigger than that. This settlement, this twin city of Memphi, was going to be a major expansion of humanity¡¯s capability. That¡¯s why Aurora was here. That¡¯s why¡­ why so many big named people were here.

    And maybe even Addavein would be here, too, eventually.

    The Reveal had never actually ended at all. It was still happening.

    The demons were still at war with humanity, and it was only because of people who went out and killed monsters that the demons weren¡¯t winning.

    ¡­ And the demons had spawned that 6-crystal bird kaiju over Wolf Bayou 4 months ago, hadn¡¯t they? On purpose. They had made that kaiju on purpose. The demon Leash. The Betrayer God, Thrashtalon. They had been aiming for Mark, or maybe in a sideways strike against Addavein, so of course they had been aiming for Mark, because the War of the Veil, the Reveal, had never ended. Addashield, one of the major Heroes of Humanity that had saved humanity from the demons, was still out there, and in a much larger, more powerful form, so yeah, they were trying to attack Addavein. Of course they were.

    Humanity had never won the Reveal.

    The war was still going.

    What had she called it? ¡®War for Life¡¯?

    Mark had heard that before, but he had not made the connections he was making right now.

    It was like a lightbulb had turned on.

    Mark had imagined that all of the kaiju, all of the monsters, were just a natural response to being touched by mana. Because that¡¯s what it looked like on all the documentaries that Mark had ever seen. They had watched a few videos on the subject in middle school, as warnings not to go beyond the walls.

    There was this one video about a rat being left out in a cage, outside of the city walls of some city ¡ªone of those cities out in the Californias¡ª and the rat was fine for a while, but then it spontaneously mutated. Its fur turned from brown to pink, and then it flowed outside of its solid cage as though the bars weren¡¯t even there. The rat disappeared. The rest of the video was of a guy standing in front of pictures of the aftermath of the rat escaping, and the hunt to track it down. They found the little thing two days and two hundred monsters later, burrowed into the chest of a much larger monster, making its home in the beast¡¯s entrails.

    That rat hadn¡¯t become a phase rat due to ¡®a natural response of exposure to mana¡¯. That had been the ¡®demon in the mana¡¯.

    The war was still happening, and every noble family was out there acting on war footing, while people like Mark didn¡¯t realize they were in a war, because to be allowed to know the truth was to have your entire worldview shifted. The reason for Xerkona politeness was not to ¡®be nice to each other¡¯, to ¡®foster a community of togetherness and unity¡¯, but because generals in different armies needed to be polite with each other because war among the humans was unthinkable when the demons were still out there, making war every single day. The reason the dragon cultists and the anti-dragon faction weren¡¯t in open civil war was because there were bigger kaiju to kill. The reason for archmages was because demons¡­

    Oh shit.

    For a moment, Mark was transported back in time. There he was, at the bottom of a Light Box, with demons all around and fighting to survive. An inquisitor had yelled about how demons only cared about other demons. In another time and place, an archmage had once told Mark that demons only cared about other demons. Were archmages simply a way for demons to fight other demons, in a different sort of way. Through proxies? Leash had certainly been trying to Contract with Mark to make him a proxy in his fight against Kanda, who was currently still stuck inside Addavein.

    Kanda was stuck inside Addashield¡¯s much larger soul.

    How many kaiju-versus-kaiju battles out there were demons fighting each other through proxy wars?

    Mark felt unmoored, thoughts swirling, head fainty.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Barba¡¯s face was stony. Unsure. She had dropped too large of a secret, and she had not meant to do that at all. She backpedaled, ¡°I am not versed in history. I only know what I have heard.¡±

    Isoko was serious as she asked, ¡°But the demons control the monster spawns?¡±

    Barba looked at the ground for several moments, and then she turned and walked toward the gate, to the settlement, saying, ¡°You should talk to Julie when we take the gourds in for harvest.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Isoko began. ¡°You can¡¯t drop that and then¡ª¡±

    Barba cut her off. ¡°I don¡¯t understand the outrage on your faces. I know Curtain Protocol is big, but¡­ This is like talking about bolting cows in the brain. The meat is made in certain ways. I know how to make meat. I don¡¯t know history. Talk to someone else about that. I am sorry I¡­ I clearly upset you both.¡±

    Isoko breathed¡ª

    Mark made a decision. He said, ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s get this stuff officially harvested and deal with other stuff later. That was a good harvest out there, Barba. I¡¯d go harvesting again with you some other day.¡±

    Barba blushed a little bit. She nodded tersely. ¡°It was¡­ good. Yes.¡±

    And then she started walking through the gate.

    Mark and Isoko followed.

    Soon they were on the other side, facing a slope to an open expanse of flat grasslands, a mudhole-lake beyond that, more grasslands beyond that, and then the buildings of the settlement rose in the distance, like collections of sand-colored towers. The Grey Whale still floated atop Castle North. To the left, to the west, beyond the river, were agricultural buildings and the farms. To the right, to the east, beyond the river, were a few noble houses. The northern side of the lake and river had stuff on it. Nothing but tram tracks and stations of various sorts had been built on the south side of the lake and river; not yet.

    Barba led the way down the staircase, to the tram station.

    Isoko fell in beside Mark, and they followed.

    As the tram rumbled underneath them, Barba spoke conversationally, ¡°The gourds hold life-glow water and meat-of-vitality, which is not actually water or meat at all. If we¡¯re lucky, a few gourds might even have vivant crystal. The lake was certainly pure enough, which is a rare thing to have in a normal situation this close to a city. But we¡¯re still just a settlement right now¡­ The vivant crystals will be worth 150 points apiece to the Artificer¡¯s Guild, split three ways.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°The quest itself was a baseline 100 points, but we get more based on what we brought in?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Today was a great harvest, too,¡± Barba said, turning briefly and grinning. ¡°These gourds will each make 1 to 2 high-grade healing potions¡­ The majority of the hollow gourds will go that way. With terrible luck you should both get about 500 points today. With good luck, maybe 1,500.¡± She paused. She was silent for a little while, her vector pointed inward. And then she said, ¡°The majority of the work order was for the Healer¡¯s Guild. The alchemists. Grand Healer Lysara Whisper and Duchess Elaria Valen. They know a lot about the demons in the mana. Would you like to deliver the order yourselves? They would normally pick it up from the depot, but you could deliver it and ask about... history¡­ Aurora¡¯s mother, Elaria¡­¡± She went silent.

    Mark had met Aurora Valen¡¯s mother, Elaria, at the ¡®alchemist¡¯s shop¡¯ in the Grey Whale, though he had not known it at the time, and she hadn¡¯t spoken her name to him, either. She had invited him for tea, though, and for a talk, but Mark had said that he did not have the time back then, since he was about to meet someone else.

    Mark had time now, though.

    Mark decided, ¡°I could do that. You want to go too, Isoko?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Isoko said, without hesitation.

    Soon, the tram reached the depot.

    They got to process the gourds in one of the processing rooms. Barba cut the gourds in half and scooped her hand around inside the red, pulpy, seed-filled guts, searching for bright red crystals among the seeds. She didn¡¯t find a single crystal until gourd #18, and then she found four in a row in gourds #21-25. That was an extra 50 points for each of Mark, Isoko, and Barba. If they had a third person, then it would have only been an extra 35 points per person.

    The broken halves of the gourds did not go to waste.

    With a special processing machine that was part AI, part engraved magics, and filled with blades and armatures and made for processing a lot of plant matter in a short amount of time, Mark and Isoko fed the cut gourds into the machine. It sliced and peeled! Whirred and separated! Crushed and pulped! And then it spat out materials through three different ports, because it was set for that sort of distribution.

    Barba spoke of how they could have let the machine process the gems, too, but those were too valuable to risk inside of the machine.

    ¡°Is it an actual risk?¡± Mark asked, wondering if the machine would break the vivant crystals. ¡°Eliot made this, right? It should work well?¡±

    Barba shook her head. ¡°My sister prefers not to have any risk at all with the crystals.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    Glowing, milky red liquid went into one set of mana-tight containers, while red pulp went into another container, packed down tight and mostly dry. The seeds had been absolutely crushed, and they went in with the pulp. The peels went into a trash bin, to be thrown into the compost bins of Agriculture and Resource Management. Eventually, the compost would enter the soil and the food supply, but only after it was thoroughly checked over for seeds.

    ¡°Sometimes the machine misses the seeds, and they get sorted into the compost,¡± Barba said. ¡°That is not good.¡±

    ¡°I can imagine plant monsters growing in the compost,¡± Mark said. ¡°¡­ That hasn¡¯t happened though, right?¡±

    Barba shrugged. ¡°I have not heard of it happening, but I don¡¯t trust machines that are not alive, and this one is not alive.¡±

    Mark smirked. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    Soon, Mark and Isoko¡¯s contribution was logged and sorted. 137 gourds amounted to 17 vivant crystals, which was 850 points for just those alone. The pulp and liquid was another 270 points for both Mark and Isoko. With the 100 point baseline payout for the quest added in, Mark and Isoko had both made 1,220 points.

    ¡°Not bad for¡­ what was it? 3 hours?¡± Mark asked.

    Isoko told Barba, ¡°Wonderful to work with you.¡± She said to Mark, ¡°Let¡¯s go deliver this to the Healer¡¯s Guild.¡±

    Barba bowed once again, looking like it was a reflex, but other people were watching so she straightened up quite fast, saying, ¡°A pleasure to work with you both!¡± And then she left, carrying a small bag of crystals with her.

    ¡­ And that was that. A pretty good first harvesting trip!

    Isoko and Mark shared the weight of gourd milk and gourd pulp as they walked out of Castle North, toward Castle South. It wasn¡¯t long of a walk so they avoided the trams.

    Mark said, ¡°I was meaning to get there eventually, anyway. You said something about the Healer¡¯s Guild having specialized tools for healers to avoid danger, yeah?¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°I went there once with Sally, but we did not stick around or look into the stuff for sale too much. They do have a bar next door, though. All the paladins hang out there after hours.¡±

    As they walked across the field, Mark looked to the right, beyond the tram tracks, to the much larger fields beyond the castles. A whole group of brawnies were training, doing drills with spears and with guns. The guns were paintball guns right now, but they mimicked how it was to work with real bullets well enough. Some machine spiderbots were today¡¯s targets. The spiderbots rushed this way and that upon the field, while the brawnies worked in groups to incapacitate the bots.

    Captains called out maneuvers and the brawnies followed them, but they were all clearly still learning.

    It was the training class, and it had started four days ago. A person could earn 250 points a day just training in a squad. It was good money, if you didn¡¯t want to hunt monsters.

    Mark had thought the drills were simply ¡®good money for non-hunters¡¯, or even simply ¡®a job¡¯, done while the rest of your team was doing something else. But looking at them again, and thinking about how Aurora¡¯s official title was ¡®General of Expansion¡¯¡­

    Oh yeah. They were still in a war.

    Mark wondered if he had been blind, or just ignorant.

    He was sure he had heard someone use the term ¡®War for Life¡¯ before Barba had said that phrase today, too. It hadn¡¯t just been ¡®a saying¡¯. It had been a truth; the Reveal, the War of the Veil, was still happening, even today. And there was a name for it. The War for Life.

    ¡­ Mark was still going to kick, punch, and possibly stab Tartu into 2 days of downtime, though. Just a little stabbing! Or a lot. Nothing too serious, of course. There might be a war on, but Mark still had his own goals in life.

    But he needed to figure out how, exactly, he was going to accomplish that particular goal.

    ¡­ Maybe he could buy some shavallian from these alchemists and stab it into Tartu?

    That might work.

 157

    ¡°Sorry I kept you waiting!¡± said Duchess Elaria Valen, as she swept into the room, smiling brightly.

    Mark and Isoko had only been waiting 15 minutes.

    They dropped off the gourd flesh and milk to the guy at the receiving station of the Healer¡¯s Guild a little while ago, and asked the guy if they could meet the duchess this afternoon. Mark had been prepared to make an appointment, but without even asking the nature of their query for a meeting, or taking their names or anything like that, the guy had immediately smiled and said that the duchess would be happy to see them, and if they could please wait over in this room then that would be great.

    They had wanted to check out the Guild, but they had only managed a glance at the rows of potions and shields and enchanted ¡®Breastplate of the Healer¡¯s, which looked really nice and which Isoko wanted to look at later, before they gotten shuffled into a nice room above the Guild¡¯s headquarters. The room was nice, with plush furniture and books on shelves and a coffee table that Mark was pretty sure he had seen on the Grey Whale.

    Freshly brewed tea and cookies were brought to them, and then they waited.

    And now the duchess was here, and Mark wondered why he didn¡¯t notice the family resemblance before.

    Elaria Valen had slightly different coloring than her prismatic-white daughter, but Elaria was clearly Aurora¡¯s mother. Her hair could have been mistaken as dirty blonde, going grey with age, but her hair was actually a uniform distribution of pure white and dirty blonde. Bi-colored hair; not grey at all. Typical noble-coloring, according to what Mark was seeing around the settlement, now that he knew to look for it. Mark was pretty sure the hair-thing was a side effect of ¡®good breeding¡¯, as he had heard one time, possibly due to the innate magic in their lineages. Mark wasn¡¯t sure and he hadn¡¯t looked into it too much. He was pretty sure it was a part of the bi-Talent thing most nobles had going on.

    Maybe that sort of coloring only came out in the Tutorial, and the Awakening, though.

    Mark used to be brown-haired and eyed, but these days his hair was darker than black, and his eyes were deeply silver and black. If he had a third color then he didn¡¯t know about it. Isoko, with her singular Talent of Platinum Body, still had normal earthling colors, outside of Full Platinum mode, and so did Eliot and Sally, so maybe¡­ Mark had no idea what coloring meant on people.

    Eliot only had one Talent, though, so Mark¡¯s whole idea about noble coloring might be off.

    Elaria¡¯s eyes were clearly full of strong power, though. They were the brightest color of amber that Mark had ever seen in a pair of eyes, while her facial structure was the same as Aurora, but a bit plumper, a bit softer. More motherly, for sure.

    All of those thoughts flashed through Mark¡¯s mind the moment he saw Elaria.

    And then Mark and Isoko both stood from their chairs, bowing¡ª

    ¡°No no no!¡± Elaria smiled gently, sweeping into the chair opposite of them. ¡°I won¡¯t stand on circumstances from soldiers, and especially not soldiers of my daughter. It keeps us too distant from each other, and distance inside of a warzone can be deadly. Please sit.¡±

    Mark and Isoko sat. Mark said, ¡°I apologize for not recognizing you the first time, Duchess Valen.¡±

    ¡°Elaria,¡± Elaria gently corrected. ¡°And I¡¯m glad you came in! There¡¯s more to talk about here and now than back on the ship. You¡¯ve been a great asset in the settlement, Mark. You and Isoko both! I wasn¡¯t sure how good of an asset you two would be¡ª You never really know when meeting new people, you understand. But you¡¯ve been wonderful! I have some things I would like to discuss, but let¡¯s start with you. You first, Mark. What brings you in today?¡±

    ¡°I want to put down Tartu for 2 days, without severely hurting him.¡±

    Elaria stared for a moment.

    ¡°Okay then!¡± Elaria looked to Isoko, smiling gently, and said, ¡°And I can¡¯t forget about you! I hear you¡¯re doing quite well, Isoko. You wish to be a mage, yes?¡±

    Mark was fine with letting his goal percolate.

    Isoko glanced to Mark, and then said to Elaria, ¡°That is correct. I am most interested in Flying magics, and Aurora said that if Grand Mage Solari wasn¡¯t willing to engage then I could go through House Valen, alongside Mark, who I know still wants at least Flying Magic?¡± Isoko looked to Mark.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯d like to learn Protect as well, but I am thinking about a growth spellbreaker to fill the gap for now. Adamantium, if I could get it made. Julia Sacredcut, our Artificer Guild caseworker, suggested one of those but made of mithril, and looking into them got me interested in a better option than the one I think she can make. I admit, I haven¡¯t talked to her about making an adamantium one. Or a growth one. I understand both are difficult?¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure which was more difficult than the other, either.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for the same sort of loadout,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Until we get the real spellwork.¡±

    Mark had promised to get all of them adamantium-based growth items, if they wanted them. Isoko wanted pretty much the same things that Mark wanted, but her spellbreaker would be tuned truly high, because her Power Levels in all categories was already trending higher than 75. Eliot wanted a Power Level Shield that would grow with him, and he was probably going to get one of those through channels different from the ones Mark went through, but he¡¯d need a source of adamantium and Mark would give him some whenever he asked. Sally wasn¡¯t sure what she wanted. She needed to take damage for Retribution to function, and she always came ahead on those exchanges, so her having weaknesses was actually a good thing for her. She was thinking about a truly high-tolerance spellbreaker, just in case, though she hadn¡¯t made any decisions on that yet.

    The options for magical items were practically endless, as far as Mark knew.

    Mark sort of knew what his request for an adamantium growth item would entail; he had seen a documentary on it, after all. First, you needed high grade materials or something that was worth more than the materials in question, which Mark already had, and then you needed the person to actually make the items, which Mark did not have at all. According to the one documentary, there were tens of thousands of crafters across Daihoon that could make Mark what he wanted, but Mark wanted something that would let him kill dragons.

    No-selling Tartu would be an easy side effect to getting proper dragon hunting gear.

    Mark got a little mad thinking about that asshole. He had goals far beyond some little fucker¡¯s idea of who he should be. Endless Daihoon awaited in several years, when Mark and his team were actually capable of going there and not dying instantly.

    The sorts of magical items that Mark wanted, though, were the city-defense level things, though. Stuff that cities gave to their kaiju killers.

    Elaria might have those sorts of connections.

    Elaria took in Mark and Isoko¡¯s words, thought for a moment, then asked, ¡°The items you speak of are empire level artifacts and are inherently difficult to acquire, but not because we don¡¯t have that capability. House Valen has four such crafters among our people. We could get such items made for you, but there are problems. Big, insurmountable, personal-for-you problems.¡±

    Mark expected as much.

    Elaria continued, ¡°The Aluatha Empire has a violently-enforced monopoly on any crafters capable of making such items. That¡¯s the first problem, and the base that you¡¯re starting at. Smaller issues include a moratorium on resale of items, so you can¡¯t buy anyone¡¯s castoffs, or estate sales; that stuff is thrown in vaults in Aluatha and almost never seen again, outside of rare occasions. Auctions do happen, but you¡¯d need to get an auction invite, and that¡¯s not happening. But! If you prove to the Empire that you are more valuable with such items than without, then you¡¯ll get your items, no problem, but the proof of your power and loyalty that the Empire requires is difficult.

    ¡°Aside from all of that, you have been stolen from in a very public way. You have proven that you cannot hold on to what you have. Therefore, the Empire is not going to sell to you on that basis alone.

    ¡°To speak freely, you are too young and too unattached to any known powers, and the powers you are attached to are dangerous.

    ¡°Some people think you¡¯re a hidden dragon, and therefore they¡¯re fine with you not having access to good artifacts. They don¡¯t even like you having adamantium, so they¡¯re happy that Tartu took it from you.

    ¡°The only real option you have for the truly good growth items is to learn how to make them yourself, and that means learning magery with a focus on enchanting. That path to that sort of power demands a different sort of walking, though it is the surest way to self actualization, and it is not without the Empire meddling in your affairs.

    ¡°Any young crafter that goes through arcanaeum and achieves true enchanting capability always meets the Empire at graduation, or before then, to ensure that the crafter signs enchanting contracts with the Empire. The only options for such a crafter are to either produce for the Empire ¡ªwhich is a rather fantastic livelihood; do not think that I am denigrating that path in life¡ª or to sign non-seller contracts and promise to never sell or give or lose items to anyone else. Making gear for yourself is fine; selling kaiju-killing gear to non-kaiju hunters ¡ªor worse! Possible demonists¡ª will get a Sentinel of the Empire after you.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°That¡¯s for truly high end gear, though. If you want something lesser, like a normal spellbreaker or even a sequencer or any of the other items on offer from the Artificer¡¯s Guild, you should take heart that we have exceptionally good crafters here. The items you get from anyone there are as good as any you¡¯d find in any high-end store in Crytalis or anywhere else in the Empire.¡±

    Well that made Mark both¡­ concerned and happy, he supposed. The spellbreakers sold here in the settlement were good items, which was great, but Mark couldn¡¯t get anything better? Mark might have had more thoughts about all of that¡ª

    But Elaria continued, ¡°If, however, you wish to announce that you are adamantium blooded for the Empire, then everything changes. Your options for life open and close in unequal measure. In such a life, such defensive items will be thrust upon you, along with an assigned Sentinel to defend you at all times. Maybe two Sentinels. It will be a life similar to that of a True Healer, like your uncle, but vastly more serious, considering your brother.¡± Elaria asked, ¡°Is that something you would want?¡±

    Mark had a visceral, internal reaction to being told that safety and a cage for life were intrinsically linked. The fact that Elaria knew that Mark was adamantium blooded was concerning, but of course Aurora would tell her¡ª

    ¡°Mark isn¡¯t adamantium blooded,¡± Isoko said, completely serious. ¡°Addavein teleports the adamantium to him sometimes.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s the lie we¡¯ll tell people, like you already told Barba Sacredcut,¡± Elaria said, as though it was a completely reasonable thing to say, and she hadn¡¯t just announced that she knew Isoko was lying, and that she was willing to go along with the lie. As though she was a friendly instructor in Xerkona Etiquette, she added, ¡°Good try, but Mark gave the game away with his expressions.¡±

    Isoko just blinked, opened her mouth to say something, and then she stopped.

    Elaria grinned, but she tried not to.

    Silence.

    And then Mark had a realization.

    Mark frowned. ¡°You didn¡¯t know I was adamantium blooded until just now. Aurora didn¡¯t tell you?¡±

    Isoko very quietly huffed.

    ¡°She did not tell me anything, and you didn¡¯t give it all away right now. This here was just confirmation,¡± Elaria said. ¡°I have my own ways, as do many others. Being metal-blooded is nearly impossible to hide in a place and situation like we have here in the settlement, if you know what to look for, and you¡¯re pulling out a rather standard increase in the amount of adamantium you have on you per day. A truly well-tuned wealth finder will be able to deduce what you are without issue. I do approve of the idea of telling people that Addavein is teleporting adamantium to you. I will continue with that rumor. The only real issue I see with that lie is what Addavein might say when he eventually shows. Also, there will be a major reckoning with the Aluatha Empire if they decide to let you continue this lie. They do not want to traffic in dragon goods. I assume that Aurora has told them the truth; it¡¯s what I would have done.¡±

    Elaria stopped there, opening the floor to Mark and Isoko.

    Isoko was silent.

    Aurora had told Second Princess Walaria Aluatha, according to Eliot, so yeah, they knew.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what to say, except to ask the big question. The sudden question that appeared right then and there to Mark.

    Mark asked, ¡°Are you a cultist?¡±

    ¡°Of the dragons, yes,¡± Elaria said, clearly and without pause.

    Mark felt dumbfounded.

    Isoko just stared, too.

    Elaria let them have some emotions before she began, ¡°I was 29 years old during the Reveal, and everyone back then was a dragonist. If you weren¡¯t a dragonist then you didn¡¯t get anywhere in life. Back then, as it is today, the only doors to higher power were through contracts and signings with a noble house, which were all ordained by the dragons. Power was heavily controlled right up until the Reveal, until the Veil tore and Earth was merely a boulder toss away.

    ¡°Imagine the world ripping and showing other lands right beyond. It was a miracle we survived at all. We almost didn¡¯t because, as you already know, dragons wanted to dragon. They like to dominate and have domains, you see, and Earth was a whole new domain, right there. Only two dragons stayed behind on Daihoon to keep the Empire intact. To fight the crazed kaijus and the newly demonized dragons and the sudden explosion of the Demon Cult, and the sudden outpouring from Endless Daihoon.

    ¡°Gedahowla the Bright of Aluatha, and Darvonika the Obsidian of Okuana.

    ¡°They tried to keep our peoples from falling to the horror, and they even made peaceful contact with Earth.

    ¡°It was through them that our two worlds met on good terms¡­ Or as good as could be.

    ¡°But all of the other dragons in Aluatha did not like that the humans of Earth wanted to remain free.

    ¡°The Grand High Coven of Aluatha wanted to subjugate and take, as they always did. Gedahowla disagreed, and so they murdered her and Darvokina of Okuana, though some suspect that Darvokina survived by escaping to Endless Daihoon.¡± She breathed. And then, with an ambivalence likely gained through decades of attempts at ambivalence in the face of deep memory, Elaria continued, ¡°The fight weakened the Grand High Coven, and we saw an opportunity to throw off the shackles of dragonkind, so we killed the rest. It was all a very confusing time, and some of those assassinations took months to enact, but we threw off the dragons, and for good reasons. Their capriciousness. Their inadequacy in governing. Their desire for more and more and more...

    ¡°I mostly remember the fury, Mark.

    ¡°I had a husband before the Reveal, long, long before Aurora and Kandon¡¯s father came along. I ¡®had some work done¡¯, as they say on Earth, 35 years ago, when¡­ Well. I will spare you the details.

    ¡°Gedahowla was amazing. A better mother to me than my real mother, in many ways. Gedahowla was the best of them. She never tried to use power against any human. Only words. Of course, she had the Sentinels and the Imperial family, so it wasn¡¯t like she wasn¡¯t without human-sized enforcement of will. But she kept the food growing, the warriors healed, and the schools open for all. And, more importantly, she kept the other dragons in check.¡± Elaria looked to Mark. ¡°It¡¯s not polite to speak about how dragons saved the world for many thousands of years, and everyone always focuses on how the dragons were tyrants ¡ªand they were!¡ª but the fact remains that power is never balanced. Most of us can only hope that the powerful use their power well.

    ¡°Dragons, well birthed and well raised in Contracts made for such, give even the lowest of humans a way to die to save us all. For a long, long time, it was the only truly reliable way to defend humanity.¡±

    In the depth of that statement, while Mark was still trying to figure out where he stood, and if Elaria wanted Addavein to be her ruler, and¡ª

    Elaria said, ¡°But that¡¯s enough about that nonsense.¡±

    She didn¡¯t seem to want to give him time to think at all!

    ¡°I doubt we¡¯ll see a proper good dragon in a long time. Possibly not ever again. But it¡¯s the thought of it, you know? The idea of a good dragon. The dragon culture doesn¡¯t exist anymore ¡ªnot on Daihoon, and certainly not on Earth, so it¡¯s impossible for any of them to be actually good. Growing up alone? Without a community? It¡¯s a recipe for disaster. Believe me, I know.¡± She added, ¡°Anyway. That was all I wanted to say on that topic, and I am sure it was more than you wanted to hear. I believe we were talking about advancements in power? Because that¡¯s what you¡¯re truly after, right?¡± With a cheerful tone, she added, ¡°Everyone always wants more power, and for good reason! There¡¯s kaiju out there, after all.¡±

 158

    Elaria was a storm of intrigue, all wrapped up in a motherly face, a pleasant voice, and an apparent desire to help. Mark wasn¡¯t sure how much of all of it was an act, or if there was no act at all, and she was simply all tact and phrasing and being reasonable, all to present the idea that cultists and dragons weren¡¯t to be feared, and instead respected¡­ Or something.

    Mark glanced down at his tea, and then back up at Elaria. ¡°I came in here with the goal of asking about getting some shavallian to use against Tartu, to put him down for two days. But Aurora commanded a moratorium on HVP stuff, and according to what I heard from Barba Sacredcut, there¡¯s divide between the cultists and the¡­ the whatever else you call the other side¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dragonists and imperials,¡± Elaria supplied.

    ¡°¡­ Dragonists and imperialists,¡± Mark continued, ¡°There¡¯s a divide, and Aurora is walking that divide. Am I some sort of pawn in a game of politics I barely understand? Some game between the cultists and imperials? Is Tartu a pawn as well? The instrument of those imperials? I know I¡¯m a pawn in the Hero/Villain Program, put there by Addavein for Addavein to find approval as a superhero, but¡­ I suppose there are proxy wars everywhere? Is the HVP stuff a proxy for the cultist and imperial stuff?¡±

    Elaria looked at Mark, listening intently, then she took a moment to sip her hot tea. Her vector was calm, though she was still pointed at Mark. Was she trying to figure out what to say? Or how to say it without offending? Mark thought the second option was more likely.

    A moment passed.

    Isoko sipped her tea, too.

    Mark bit into a cookie and didn¡¯t taste it at all. He wondered what Isoko thought about this thing happening in front of them right now. She was better at this political game than him. That¡¯s what happened when you were raised around powerful people all the time. Isoko and Eliot, actually, were both more capable of navigating this situation than him. Him and Sally were poor bastards from the Protocol side of town¡ª

    ¡°Both imperialists and dragonists want the same thing, Mark,¡± Elaria said. ¡°We both want a world with people who are free to do what they want without too much duress because all of the big threats are handled. So yes, you are a proxy in politics. You don¡¯t have to be, though. You have choices.

    ¡°Ever since the Reveal and the solidification of the System and the Veil under Malaqua, we have powerhouses capable of acting as dragons in their own right, even if they¡¯re not actually dragons. Aurora, for one. Before the Reveal and Malaqua taking over the System, do you know the number of people who had power comparable to my daughter?

    ¡°None.

    ¡°And now there¡¯s Aurora, and Glorious Man, and many others.

    ¡°Several others of lesser rank, but better than the average dragon before the reveal, exist in this very settlement. My daughter is still the strongest of them all, of course.¡± Elaria grinned. ¡°Though Kandon has beaten her in a few bouts when they were younger! That was fun to see simply because it was, but they¡¯re both past the needs of youth to prove themselves as powerful.

    ¡°For Earth, there¡¯s Glorious Man. All of the teams of people at Crystal Tower, actually. The Aluatha Empire has our Sentinels. The Gardeners of Okuana. The Fates of Xerkona are not exactly human, but they are firmly on the side of humanity, so I would count them as well.

    ¡°Etcetera.

    ¡°There are too many powers capable of defending this world to name them all.

    ¡°So we¡¯re good, Mark.

    ¡°The world still needs heroes ¡ªit absolutely does!¡ª and I can speak for many when I say that we absolutely want you to be one of those heroes, but we¡¯re not on the brink. Not anymore.

    ¡°Imperials want more humans to rise up to power, because of course they do, while the dragonists want dragons, because dragons happen, and it is better to have them as a part of society than outside of society, causing problems. The imperials think that humans are better suited for humanity, which I can respect, but we think that dragons are easier to make, and they care a lot about humanity, if they are allowed to care. Mostly they just like tribute and to dominate an area, which means ensuring no kaiju live there and the people who do live there give them nice things. It¡¯s a very simple exchange, in my opinion.

    ¡°In a lot of ways, both sides are equally good at making a better world.

    ¡°And so, you are a proxy for a lot of things right now.

    ¡°So, if you went and kicked the shit out of Tartu, you¡¯d be sent to the brig for a few days. Throwing your weight around is always an option.

    ¡°It was only because of the HVP that Tartu was allowed to harm you at all, but that¡¯s over for now.

    ¡°Or, you could wait 2 months, and then get away with another fight under the auspices of the HVP, and not suffer any blowback at all. If he tried to get you back inside of those 2 months, then he¡¯d be headed for the brig as well.

    ¡°It¡¯s your choice of what you want to do. The world is made up of people, more than it is made up of institutions. In a fair fight, I doubt you¡¯d lose to him again.¡±

    ¡­ Now there¡¯s an option.

    Just be a bastard and go kick a fellow bastard in the balls. Maybe a few times, just to be sure Tartu got the message.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is that really what the cultists believe? That I can¡­ just fuck him up and it won¡¯t matter?¡±

    ¡°Oh it will matter, for sure. You will make an enemy of Tartu, though I suspect he has already made an enemy of you. Such a course of action would likely prevent both you and Isoko from learning magery from Tartu¡¯s father, the Grand Mage Solari. But don¡¯t worry about that. Power will be yours, of that I have no doubt.¡± Her eyes seemed to shine amber, as her gaze focused on Mark, on the world beyond, on something just outside of Mark¡¯s ability to sense. Elaria intoned, ¡°The road is long and dangerous, but if you have the fortitude to walk it, to stomp those who need stomping, to kill that which needs killing, to be an Inquisitor who knows what needs to be done and then you do it, you will arrive at true Power. But if you submit to the shackles required to be protected by the Empire, for any reason at all, then you will cut yourself short.¡±

    There was a lot there.

    Mark would spend a while, later, thinking about being high profile enough to be allowed to see the halls of power, but high profile in a bad way, and being denied entry into those halls of power. But for now, he knew what he had to do.

    Using items in a grudge fight was for wusses, anyway.

    Duchess Elaria Valen turned to Isoko, and said, ¡°Your Skill, Platinum Body, will take you through dragonfire and demonspawn. You wish for Protection and Flight? They will be trinkets for you, once you understand what you can actually do; what your Skill means. Mark will be fine when he understands what he is, and though you will need more training, you will arrive at those distant shores of power just the same. I have an offer for you: Stomp Tartu with Mark, get in the brig with him, and I will make sure that you learn those magics and more besides, though those lessons will not come from Grand Mage Solari at all. And they will never come from him. Are you prepared for that?¡±

    Isoko breathed a little.

    Mark almost had questions¡ª

    ¡°And that¡¯s a good spot to end this, for now,¡± Elaria smiled a little, saying, ¡°But one last thing before I end this meeting: To call us cultists is an offense that I have had to endure for several decades, ever since Earth and Daihoon spotted each other across the torn Veil and facts spread poorly. The Imperial family and the other nations of Daihoon made sure that the stories happened that way, though, so I do not blame you. But to educate, in the here and now: ¡®cultist¡¯ means Thrashtalon. ¡®Dragonist¡¯ is what we call ourselves.

    ¡°We kill cultists on sight, same as anyone else who knows what¡¯s what.¡±

    Mark and Isoko both tensed.

    Neither of them had known that, it seemed.

    Mark spoke, ¡°Apologies. I did not know there was a difference.¡±

    Isoko just nodded slightly.

    ¡°I am not offended, Mark. I truly am not offended. We haven¡¯t had the political power necessary to be able to tell people the difference in a long, long time.¡± Elaria grinned. ¡°Still can¡¯t!¡± She digressed, ¡°Outside of small conversations like this, anyway.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Mark wanted to ask what the difference was, since they both trafficked in demons, and the Inquisitors killed the hidden dragons that Addashield had put onto Earth and Daihoon in the bodies of Addashield¡¯s Contract-demanded Tutorial-takers. But that seemed like something you asked after a month of working with someone like Elaria. This was Aurora¡¯s mother, for gods sakes¡ª

    Isoko said, ¡°But if we use the term ¡®dragonist¡¯ outside, then people will know we¡¯ve heard dragonist theories. That¡¯s only one step removed from being called dragonists ourselves, and that cannot be as acceptable as you make it out to be. People will think Mark is a hidden dragon.¡±

    Mark¡¯s eyes went wide¡ª

    Elaria easily said, ¡°Dragonists are not cultists. People in-the-know are aware of the differences. The layperson will never know the term ¡®dragonist¡¯ at all, because if Mark uses the proper terms, and if he is caught on tape saying ¡®dragonist¡¯ instead of ¡®cultist¡¯, then the AIs in charge of Curtain Protocol will scrub that information away and change it to ¡®cultist¡¯. The only way to ever know that term is to experience it in person, or to use specialty magics to uncensor videos.¡±

    Ah! Of course. Fucking Curtain Protocol again.

    Mark came right out and asked, ¡°Why are dragonists and cultists lumped together? Is it because they have a lot of similar backing in the demons?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Aside from the imperials trying to shove dragonists into the dark, so that we¡¯re never heard from again¡­¡± Elaria too-easily said, ¡°The two groups do have some things in common, but only to the layperson. Dragonists use demons to make archmages that might then make dragons. There is risk in that action. There is great reward for humanity, as well. A demon in a proper Contract produces an archmage that can then become a shelter in the storm of life, and in death, they become a mountain blocking the hurricane completely.

    ¡°But cultists are collaborators with demons, creating Contracts that allow the demons to do whatever they want, in exchange for doing what the cultist wants first. Cultists are collaborators. That is the main difference that most do not know.

    ¡°Cultists are evildoers that corrupt civilization to their own evil ends. They believe that if the demons are happy then they won¡¯t kill as much as they are capable of killing, and there is no truth to that at all.¡± With an undying, quiet hatred, Elaria said, ¡°Cultists are selfish trash who need to be burned like the trash they are before their corruption can infect everyone else.¡±

    The glint in her eyes, the force of her vector, these things would stick in Mark¡¯s mind for a long time.

    A moment and then a minute passed in small words as Elaria pulled back, saying something soft about ¡®getting too serious there!¡¯ with a small laugh of nerves, or something else. The meeting ended there, in pleasantries spoken, and in secrets hidden from view and speaking once again.

    Mark couldn¡¯t tell exactly how they left the room, only that they did. His thoughts were too thick to keep track of them all.

    Mostly, he felt an unsettling anger.

    Was Elaria using him? Probably. Mark was already being used by a lot more than Elaria, though, from the HVP and Addavein and then to whatever insane thing Tartu was trying to accomplish with his particular imperialist shit. At least Elaria told him the full lay of the land. Mark appreciated that.

    And he and Elaria agreed on one big fact ¡ªthough everyone agreed on that sort of fact¡ª that demons must die and that cultists must go into the fires with them.

    The rulers of humanity needed to be human, though the degree of humanity present in that ruler was apparently up for debate.

    Mark was sure, if he would have asked directly, that Elaria would have said 95% was a fine ratio of human to have in a ruler, meaning Mark¡¯s ¡®brother¡¯. But Mark didn¡¯t want to ask that direct of a question. Not right then. Not right now. Elaria might have told him the truth, but she might have also tried to speak with more tact than truth, and Mark didn¡¯t want to hear any more tact right now.

    There was a knot in his stomach. A lump in his throat. But also...

    A desire to fight.

    And not with fucking words. Not with anything as worthless as pandering for the camera in the Hero/Villain Program, or even with talking to nobles and playing their games.

    Fists were a good choice of weapon right now.

    Mark left the Healer¡¯s Guild with Isoko striding beside him, both of their eyes focused ahead. Isoko seemed calm, but she was always that sort of way. Mark appreciated that. Mark¡¯s adamantium writhed upon his ankles and his wrists, while his heart beat with darkness and his eyes shimmered silver. He was, perhaps, more angry than her right now, though Mark wasn¡¯t sure of his actual emotion at all. All he knew was that he needed a target.

    He had a target. He had had a target for the last few days.

    It was a target chosen for him by people far above him, but that was fine. Mark had been labeled a villain before he got a chance to become who he actually wanted to be, and villains were supposed to break the rules, after all. So it was time to just break the rules, because yeah, Mark didn¡¯t need trinkets to win a real fight. Not against Tartu, anyway.

    A few days in the brig?

    That was fine by him.

    Mark looked up at the sun beyond the auroras, and then he looked down at the massive tram station, at the sweeping views and at the crowds of people that were dwarfed by the station itself. There were only 11,000 people in the settlement, but only a few dozen here right now, and the station was built to handle half a million people. Big screens illuminated the time frames for departures and arrivals, and estimated times to this or that place.

    Mark looked for and found the listing for ¡®Mage Society¡¯. It was a 5 minute trip on the eastward track, to some buildings that Eliot had built the other day when Mark was recovering¡ª

    ¡°Good,¡± Isoko said, standing beside Mark. Her dark eyes glittered platinum at the edges and her fingernails were already reflective. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if you wanted to go right away or not. I¡¯m ready right now.¡±

    Mark felt a lightness in his chest at those words. He almost wanted Sally to be here, but Isoko had been at his side for the last 3 months of monster kills outside of Memphi. She was a real villain, by birth and choice, while Mark was just a villain by circumstance.

    Sally was with Eliot, doing something somewhere else, and neither of them were actual villains. Isoko was in the HVP as Platinum Princess, following in the footsteps of her family¡¯s long history of villainy. Sally and Eliot had just joined the program because Mark was forced to join.

    ¡°The brig doesn¡¯t sound so bad,¡± Mark commented as he smiled a little and walked toward the station. ¡°Hard bread. Water. That¡¯s how they do it on Daihoon, right? That¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bath and spa.¡±

    Mark guffawed. ¡°What!¡±

    ¡°I knew I would end up in there at least once, so I asked Eliot to make the brig Earth-style,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Funny thing was he was already planning on doing the brig in the Earth-style, and Aurora had already approved of the brig modifications a month ago. It caused some political drama, but I think you missed that drama. Hunting some big monster outside of Memphi, I think.¡± She smirked. ¡°I had a big hovercar test that weekend so I was at home hearing all about it from Eliot.¡±

    Mark chuckled as he walked onto the tram destined for ¡®Mage Society¡¯, with Isoko right beside him, saying, ¡°I think I remember that now. There were some chat logs about all of that.¡±

    They got into the station, and found the tram headed east. It was easy enough, and the trams were running all the time, even without people in them. Electricity was cheap, thanks to Eliot and a bunch of generators buried in the grounds in multiple locations all across the settlement.

    As the tram began rolling down the line with just the two of them on their tram, Mark looked out the window at the grasslands flowing by¡­

    And his anger flagged.

    He wondered if this was the right thing to do.

    ¡­ He rapidly came to the conclusion that the people in charge had failed him utterly, so it was time to fuck authority and do his own shit, on his own schedule.

    ¡­ Ah.

    Mark¡¯s ¡®problems with authority¡¯ thing was returning, wasn¡¯t it.

    Mark frowned as he looked out the window, thinking about what had happened back there in that meeting. Had Elaria played him, to make him head this direction? A small comment like ¡®3 days in the brig¡¯ was all it took to get Mark and Isoko pumped up for a fight.

    Mark asked, ¡°Are we being controlled?¡±

    Isoko easily rattled off, ¡°Yes, and no. Think of it more as permission given outside of normal channels, and with severe backlashes that could be made more severe if we ever tell anyone that Elaria hinted that we should do this. So don¡¯t go talking about the ¡®ists¡¯, or whatever.¡±

    ¡°I guess so. Yeah.¡± Mark nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready to sign up with the Valens for magical learning, and I bet it¡¯ll be a lot better than with the Grand Mage, who wasn¡¯t even willing to give you the time of day. That said: The best outcome of this is you and I being thrown in the brig for two or three days. Worse could happen, though exile is not one of those things.¡± She pointed at the emergency stop button all red and surrounded by black and yellow warning paint. ¡°We could stop and turn around.¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re going, and if Tartu isn¡¯t at Mage Society, then we¡¯ll go to his home in the Noble District.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Got a plan for finding him?¡±

    ¡°I do, but I can¡¯t trigger it yet.¡± Mark looked to Isoko, saying, ¡°Thanks for being here, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko grinned a little. ¡°Anytime.¡±

 159

    Aurora stood in the open air, above Castle South by a few meters, watching a tram head east, toward Mage Society¡¯s compound. Below her, thousands lived and worked, making plans for monster kills or for expansion efforts, or for the trade and gathering of resources located all around the settlement. Already, Captain Gearhead had sent for courier ships to come to the settlement, to pick up the first shipment of resources that had been gathered by the warriors under Aurora.

    The first shipment back home would do a lot to assuage fears that Aurora and her people were some sort of rebellion group of reactionaries, or hidden dragons, going off and depriving the Empire of its necessary people and without any plans to give back at all. Aurora felt she deserved greater latitude than that; than the usual impolite inquiries about loyalty and unity of direction that the Sentinels always gave everyone else. But she knew better than most that those inquiries never ended. Proof of loyalty was required, forever and ever and ever.

    Which made the facts she had just learned rather irritating.

    Aurora set down onto the stone roof of the castle, saying, ¡°You¡¯ll take the hit too, Mother. I will not shield you from the Sentinels to come.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, Aurora. Isoko knows how to play the game. Mark will likely never learn, but that is fine. They won¡¯t do anything against him, either. He¡¯s too valuable. All of this is theater, because we can¡¯t have the real actions anywhere at all. It is enough.¡±

    Aurora had listened without looking.

    But now she finally turned and looked at her unrepentant mother. Elaria was solid, and unworrying. Aurora sighed. And then she pulled out her phone and tapped away¡ª

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Elaria asked.

    The phone started to ring.

    Aurora answered, ¡°I¡¯m calling Solari¡ª¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Rekaro Solari asked, perhaps too tensely.

    Aurora responded with a smile on her voice and tact that the Grand Mage never seemed to learn, ¡°There¡¯s an event unfolding, heading your way¡­¡±

    - -

    Under a bright sky, in grasslands far away from any inhabited lands, a hulking beast of muscle and thick skin lumbered on four legs, dripping blood from its mouth and many other places. Coughing. Hacking. It was blue and big, with three large horns and a long tail with spikes upon it. It had never lost a fight, and that fact was still true. Technically.

    It was the size of a hovervan, though it had never seen one of those and it had no idea what those things even were. If it had seen one of them, it would have thought it a flying box-monster and it would have bellowed at the box-monster. If the box-monster didn¡¯t take warning then the beast would have shot light from its horns to try and cut the silver thing from the sky.

    Horn light was usually enough to kill something.

    It had been enough this time, too.

    All around it, the beast¡¯s enemies lay dead. Stomped. Burned and sliced. They were small things, green and weak. But they never stopped coming. The herd was gone, and some of the green monsters were blue, like kin. Those ones had been harder to kill.

    The beast had never stood a chance.

    The beast¡¯s wounds were numerous. Spears of simple wood and daggers of stone and crude metal were lodged in its blue hide. A massive tear at its gut threatened to open any second now. The guts of the beast roiled within those wounds like red tendrils. Shit leaked from the wound. The smell was awful.

    And then the shit stopped leaking, and the blood suddenly coagulated. The intestines roiled¡ª

    The beast roared one last roar, its insides ripping this way and that, but not lethally. Just painfully.

    The beast had never lost a fight, but it had lost the war.

    It collapsed, most of it dying, but the important parts lived. The internal transformation had left the heart, the lungs, and the brain alone. The transformation ate at everything else, leaving the hide intact and sealing up the wounds from the inside, and then it devoured. The monster was parasitized.

    A nutrient system to deliver itself to the little ones growing inside.

    Muscles deflated.

    The belly inflated.

    The beast¡¯s eyes rolled in its head.

    Finally, blessed death, the heart and lungs and brain sucked inward, eaten by the young.

    And then came life.

    The wound split fully and a hundred little goblins peeled out into the world, a new infestation for a new day. They were ready to go the very second of their birth. Some of them grabbed the weapons out of the corpse they had come from. Others grabbed sticks and stones.

    Some goblins had blue skin and big horns.

    7 goblins had 3 horns each.

    ¡­ There were no other monsters, though. No war to fight. No one to lead.

    The goblins evaluated each other.

    After a small fight among all of them, and then finally among the most powerful, 3 tri-horns remained alive, and 4 tri-horn bodies gave birth to more young ones that did not have any horns at all.

    The rest of the new tribe was already making leathers out of the blue beast¡¯s corpse, taking the remains of its brain and their own piss to turn skin into leather, while others were stacking stones to make shelter. Some of the very stupid ones, with venom dripping from their teeth, tried to eat nearby trees and rocks.

    One of the no-horns found a survivor huddled on the top of a cliff, in a nook in the rock. The survivor had been bleeding, but he would survive. He had survived such wounds many, many times before. He was old. How old? Who knew. The old one spoke words that the new ones barely recognized at first, but eventually they learned what words were.

    They learned their history.

    ¡°We are of the Bleak Grass Tribe, located far to the west,¡± spoke the old goblin, who they called Old-slave. ¡°When a proven warrior comes of age they are granted the honor and chance to craft their family from a worthy beast. The master who was sent against the lumber-beast was killed in battle, but he Touched the beast anyway, and thus you now exist. I was from the previous generation who fell against the beast. I will serve you now, if you would have a name.¡±

    The 3 tri-horns conferred with each other in the way brothers sometimes did.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    When there was only one tri-horn left, he stood tall, covered in the blood and ash of his brothers, and said, ¡°I¡¯m Grax. I am your master now. Where is the next conquest, old-slave?¡±

    Old-slave said, ¡°Wherever we wish it to be. I will teach you the ways of hiding, and the ways of tactics, and the ways that are too complicated to be learned from birth. These things will allow us to survive in the death-death of this big world.¡±

    Grax¡¯s horns lit with light and he became a shadow of himself. ¡°Is this not good enough?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t fool the smart things. The humans, demons, dragons, or the Elders of our kind.¡±

    Grax backhanded Old-slave across the chest. ¡°I do not like your manner. Grovel and then teach us, Old-slave, and if you are not worthy then you will feel the front of my claws instead. Your first test of worthiness is to tell of tales of this world, and of meatbags to Touch.¡±

    Old-slave grinned, toothy and hungry. He groveled, ¡°The old becomes new again! Of course, my master. Old master, new master, same master as always.¡± From on the ground, he began, ¡°The first of the many wonders to Touch are the humans. The next are the dragons, though¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know of dragons. We leave them alone.¡± Grax¡¯s eyes glittered darkly as memories almost breached the surface. And then he focused on Old-slave. ¡°What is a ¡®heeu-man¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Imagine them now! Tall as two of us and capable of strong magics that we must take for ourselves, but beware! For they are as tricksy as demons...¡±

    - -

    A jolt.

    A flex.

    Kardi woke up from her afternoon nap and she moved. She was in her room, but then she walked out, slamming the door open, headed for the front door¡ª

    ¡°Kardi?¡± Shawn asked, sitting on the couch, hand in a bag of chips. He stared. ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡­ What was he worried for?

    Kardi looked down at herself.

    Oh.

    Yeah.

    She was in her underwear, but no top. Hair was probably a fucking mess, too. Whatever. She raised her voice as she moved back to her room, ¡°We got trouble coming! I¡¯m not sure what, but my senses are tingling!¡±

    And then she was putting on her webweave and started pulling hard, getting her feet into the holes, as her Luck prodded her like constant sparks of static all across her skin. The only time it ever got this bad was when¡­

    Kardi didn¡¯t want to think about that.

    She was freaking out.

    Shawn was at the open door. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know!¡± With a brush and some spray, Kardi put her hair together rapidly, asking, demanding, ¡°Where¡¯s Tartu and Lenny?¡± She shouted, ¡°Put on your armor! Right now!¡±

    Shawn rushed to his room and Kardi heard metal clanging, as he said, ¡°Lenny and Tartu are at the arcanaeum!¡±

    ¡°FUCK!¡± Kardi slammed her guns into her holsters and that was the last thing she had to wear. She rushed to the living room, then to the door to the porch beyond, saying, ¡°Catch up! I¡¯m stealing a hovercar!¡±

    Or whatever she could find.

    Shawn complained behind her but Kardi was already running down the garden, past the vegetable vines and to the neighbor¡¯s house beyond. They lived in the Noble¡¯s District and everyone here had a hovercar, but Kardi did not. She only had her Luck¡ª

    And just like that, some valet guy was driving around a hovercart with a big load of crates on the back. The guy was alone and in a rush. He did not notice Kardi at all as he rushed to park next to the roadway leading into the neighbor¡¯s back door. The guy hopped off and grabbed the crate in the back and just like a brawny he picked up the whole thing as though it weighed nothing. He rushed toward the house, away from Kardi, leaving the cart for the taking.

    The cart was still on.

    Shawn came up behind Kardi, his armor barely clanking. He almost asked something¡ª

    Kardi was already going for her target, saying, ¡°Come on!¡±

    Shawn, to his credit, was right there with her, and soon Kardi slammed the hovercart into drive, zipping away¡ª

    ¡°You fucking¡ª BRING THAT BACK HERE!¡±

    Kardi stood up and turned, locking eyes with the delivery guy, even as she held onto the wheel of the fully-throttled hovercart, shouting, ¡°Where¡¯s your buddy, buddy!¡±

    The guy¡¯s face fell. He knew what was up. He was out without a buddy, and therefore fully vulnerable to the demerit system.

    Kardi kept her eyes locked on the guy, making sure he knew that she was serious, even as the cart flew forward. Luck twitched at her, just as much as Shawn complaining about something in front of them, freaking out in a minor sort of way and almost reaching for the wheel, but Kardi turned the wheel at the last moment, never breaking eye contact with the delivery guy. Shawn got forcefully sat back down in his seat, Kardi kept the cart from crashing, and she merely swayed in her seat, as the whole thing unbalanced for the briefest of moments.

    The delivery guy muttered something as he took out his phone, flipped Kardi the bird, and walked away.

    Kardi nodded.

    And then, with a grin, Kardi turned back around and sat down, saying, ¡°Call Tartu and Lenny. Something is happening. I can¡¯t tell how bad it is, but it¡¯s gonna be bad.¡±

    Shawn muttered, ¡°Crazy fucking woman¡­¡± but he took out his phone and called as ordered. While it rang, he asked, ¡°Local bad, or widespread bad?¡±

    ¡°Local. Not the settlement.¡±

    This was not a ¡®kaiju alarm¡¯ sort of issue.

    Shawn held on to the cart with one hand, his other hand to his phone, waiting for the other side to pick up.

    The arcanaeum was only a kilometer away, but they were in the middle of the Noble District. There were other people on hovercarts and builders with loads on the road and artisans installing point-defense systems that looked more like sculpted statues of great people instead of the arcane cannons that Kandi knew them to be. It was a maze and the hovercart couldn¡¯t go more than a meter above the ground, and it was only a little faster than flat-out running.

    They weren¡¯t going to make it, but they¡¯d get there fast enough.

    Shawn flicked through his phone, saying, ¡°Tartu didn¡¯t pick up. Trying Lenny.¡±

    Kardi¡¯s stomach dropped, and then she pressed the pedal to the floor and stressed her Luck to the edge.

    All the little things ahead, the people walking, the carts going this way or that, even some cow that was in the Noble District for whatever reason, all got out of her way, like fate had thrown a switch somewhere. It drained Kardi to do that, her lucksense turning dull as shit. Kardi knew she would be practically useless in less than 2 minutes.

    But Shawn was still good to go.

 160

    Mark stepped off of the tram and breathed in the clean air, feeling great. It was nice to decide to cut through the bullshit, and just do what he wanted to do.

    Isoko stepped off of the tram next to him, looking good. Her breastplate gleamed in the light, her chainmail caught the auroras overhead, and her white warrior¡¯s clothes were immaculate and a little bit platinum.

    Strangely enough, it was only the two of them on the platform in front of Mage Society, which was the true name of the Mage Guild. Not even Daihoonians called it by its proper name all of the time, though, because Mage Society wasn¡¯t properly formed most of the time. ¡®Mage Guilds¡¯ were loose affiliations between many different enclaves in Mage Society. Such a place would look more like a city than a fortress. True Mage Societies were more like arcanaeums, or rather, post-graduate arcanaeums. Places for secondary education.

    There were no young students here at this Mage Society, though there were young people learning magic. The people here either wore the full robes of an accredited mage, or they wore normal clothes, and they were not allowed into the special mage-only places.

    Mark, with his black webweave and charcoal-colored ablative plates, and Isoko with her standard Freyalan Healer outfit, did not stand out too much, but they were certainly not going to be allowed into the big building in back that was guarded by bored mages in thick robes who were passing the time talking to each other. Even in a settlement like this there was strict anti-outsider sentiment among the true mages.

    In a way, Mark was glad he was not going to be coming here for magic lessons. He hated the secrecy of it all. If Mark and Isoko were to break into Mage Society and steal books, or whatever, they¡¯d be vulnerable to the Mage Secrecy laws, and that would be a very, very big deal.

    Breaking Tartu¡¯s back in public was a much lesser offense.

    Mark hoped Tartu was in one of the normal buildings outside of the main structure in the back.

    The place was set up like a college campus, with the tram station at one end of a wide grassy lawn between buildings and other structures, with the main hall at the other end of the grass. People were sitting on the grass and reading with friends, or talking about this or that, or they were on benches at a food place over there, or they were sipping coffee as they walked between the public buildings here and there. Mark guessed there were about 50 people out and about right now. There were probably a hundred in the big building in the back.

    Some of the people here were looking their way. Mark mostly noticed those people noticing him through their vectors. Some were surprised. Some looked over and didn¡¯t care, or they didn¡¯t recognize Mark and Isoko. Some guys who were headed up the platform all took notice of Isoko and her breastplate first, and then they noticed Mark, the four of them going wide-eyed, and then two of them chuckling and whispering something to their friends. One of the friends complained about not wanting to be late, and the rest of their conversation was too quiet to hear.

    But Mark overheard something about sticking around for the beatdown to come.

    Isoko¡¯s eyes glinted platinum as she gazed out at the same problems Mark was seeing, then she turned to him and asked, ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    Mark hovered Quark out of his bag, asking his AI, ¡°Locate Tartu Solari, please.¡±

    One of the guys in the quartet exclaimed, ¡°Oh shit!¡± Then he told his friends, ¡°We¡¯re staying.¡±

    This comment began another argument among those guys, and Mark suspected that the group of four would split in half with two staying and two going.

    Mark mostly looked at Quark, though. Quark flickered silver on Mark¡¯s screen, and then text rolled by as it rapidly executed Mark¡¯s orders.

    Querying settlement population database¡­ granted.

    Querying location of Tartu Solari¡­ denied.

    Querying location of Shawn Yelik, Lenny Lennon, Kandi Shale¡­ approved.

    The image rapidly flickered and changed, the camera activating, allowing Quark to draw an overlay on the view of Mage Society. Shawn and Kandi were an arrow pointed to the right, far off screen, but Lenny, the mud mage, was right there, in that building on the right, somewhere on the second or third floor¡ª

    The image flickered and died.

    Quark¡¯s silver glow reappeared along with some words in bold print.

    THIS ACTION WILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES.

    YOU ARE WARNED AGAINST THIS ACTION.

    Quark erased the words and spoke, ¡°We have been barred from further population query.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°That¡¯s okay. Thank you, Quark.¡±

    ¡°Surprised that was the plan,¡± Isoko said, grinning.

    ¡°It worked!¡± Mark said. Quark flickered once and Mark floated him back into his backpack, safely nestled inside a thin layer of adamantium. With one foot in front of the other, and a queasiness in his stomach that he banished as best he could, Mark strode onto the grasses in the middle of Mage Society, toward the building that Lenny was in, muttering, ¡°Let¡¯s see how this goes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too worried, Mark,¡± Isoko said, head held high, gleaming like a mirror. Even her armor was reflective. With a stage voice, she said, ¡°The rebound will be large since we¡¯re doing this outside of HVP, but he has it coming, and what kind of villains wouldn¡¯t seek vengeance?¡±

    Some people commented to the side, and Mark felt vectors focus on them.

    Mark grinned a little. And then he set his face and walked tall. Fists tight, armor set, caltrops ready to deploy. No weapons here. Technically, Mark always carried weapons with him, but this was a beat down. He would not be seeking to injure anyone at all. Not permanently, anyway.

    They rapidly reached the middle of the grass square, right in front of the three-story building that held Lenny, and probably Tartu as well. The words ¡®POTION HALL¡¯ were emblazoned on the archway leading into the main structure, and though the front area had some sort of sales area, it seemed more like a library and study place, for Mark saw rows of books in the depths beyond the entrance. People were studying in the front, reading or watching quiet videos on their phones with their friends and coworkers.

    They had already noticed Mark and Isoko, but they hadn¡¯t really noticed them until now; Until Mark and Isoko stood before Potion Hall.

    Isoko smirked, the grass and the sky and the worried and delighted faces of Mage Society all reflected on the mirror sheen of her body and clothes. Her vector pointed everywhere, but mostly at Mark and at a low wall, and at the Potion Hall beyond that low wall. Mark wondered what she was going to do to that low wall¡ª

    Isoko raised her voice to the sky, and shouted, ¡°It would be poor form to let such thievery go without consequence! So let¡¯s be rich in our reprisal!¡± As the group of people ahead rapidly decided to either get to the side or stay frozen at the spot, Isoko placed a platinum hand on the low wall. Platinum soaked into the wall, just a little, and then she kicked, rapid, almost too fast to see, and the wall splashed down and away, rock breaking at her touch. A torso-sized hunk of the wall remained in her grip. She held it high, shouting at the building beyond, ¡°Honor goes out the window for the likes of you, Tartu Solari!¡±

    Mark was a little bit in love at that moment.

    That feeling multiplied when a pair of vectors inside and up ahead both went to a window, and one of those vectors turned absolutely enraged. Mark hadn¡¯t been able to tell exactly where Tartu had been before that moment, but he could tell that vector, slightly hidden beyond that window up there, was Tartu, and also Lenny. It was absolutely them.

    Isoko threw the rock right at the window with enough force that it did not arc at all.

    The boulder sailed, straight as a bullet, and impacted glass. It did not go through. The boulder struck something harder than glass, and the glass broke downward, falling out of the building and onto the study square in front of Potion Hall. Every single bystander was mostly out of the way by then, but a few lingering souls hurried the fuck up. Glass crashed onto the ground and the boulder followed with a cracking thump.

    Mark was sure someone had muttered ¡®crazy fuckers!¡¯ but he was too furious to care about them right now.

    Ahhh!

    This was good.

    ¡°Thank the gods!¡± Tartu said, jumping out of the window, voice full of anger. He was wearing white and blue, just like his hair. He landed softly, his vector focused on Mark and Isoko. ¡°You deserve everything that¡¯s about to happen!¡±

    And then his vector vanished, and so did the vectors of everything around Mark and Isoko. The world was still there, but everything felt dull. It was an anti-Union Domain.

    Mark and Isoko both backed up, Isoko rapidly stepping away while Mark floated away on his caltrops.

    Tartu almost said something¡ª

    But Mark scooped a chunk of dirt out from the grass, along with a bunch of grass, and tossed it at Tartu. Dirt rained down on the guy and he complained, while also trying to fish out something from beneath his robes, but Mark just grinned as he grabbed another load of dirt and tossed it¡ª

    And then he was outside of the anti-Union Domain, in the middle of the grasses, and he connected to the world.

    Tartu remained inside his Domain, shielding his face with an arm. He sputtered out dirt and Lenny landed behind him with the same sort of softness as Tartu had displayed.

    Tartu pulled out a black wand and pointed it at Mark, saying, ¡°Fuck your Powers in particular!¡±

    A jolt of dark light flickered out of the tip of the black wand, like a thin lightning bolt. It crashed across the distance between Tartu and Mark and soaked into Mark like water into a sponge. Mark gasped as the world felt dull again, in a completely different way. His adamantium faltered, and then so did he.

    Mark slammed a knee to the ground, gasping for breath, righting himself as much as he could¡ª

    ¡°Ha!¡± Tartu said, triumphant, even with all the dirt on his face. ¡°And here I was thinking I¡¯d have to wait two months to try that out!¡±

    Lenny, also covered in dirt, waved a hand and the dirt flowed off of both he and his partner, into a ball in his outstretched hand. He pointed, even before Tartu was done gloating, and the ball rocketed to Mark¡¯s face, filling his vision¡ª

    A platinum hand was there, and the dirt billowed just a little bit, trying to splash outward, before Isoko held the ball in her hand, the improvised weapon turning platinum. And then she let it go, dropping mud to the ground, saying nothing. She didn¡¯t need to speak. She was in a Union with Mark right now, and they were in tune with each other.

    Both of them had perhaps expected more taunting. More words.

    But no.

    It was go-time, fully and completely.

    The Union-void around Tartu and Lenny expanded, rapidly enveloping Mark and Isoko, and their Union broke once again, like the snapping of a bridge.

    Lenny threw another mudball straight up and over, lobbing the payload like Mark or Isoko couldn¡¯t dodge such a slow moving ball, like he didn¡¯t even care to hit either of them.

    Mark had barely gotten back to his feet before he stepped to the side, but the mudball tracked him. It curved right for him. Lenny threw another mudball straight at Isoko, and this one was not slow at all. It moved too fast for her to intercept both of them. Isoko was too far away and both of them knew it.

    Mark lifted an arm and took the ball on the forearm. It was like getting hit with a stone that then deformed and wrapped around his arm, droplets slapping onto his face, his chest. It locked there. Mark tried to shake it off, to prepare for the next ball of mud coming his way, but the mud clung and Mark knew there was magic involved in the cling. Had his arm broken? No. But it was painful.

    Might be broken.

    Who the fuck knew.

    It was not that heavy. Maybe 5 kilos. But then Mark looked up and there were five mudballs in the air already. Getting hit with any more of them would be painful and definitely humiliating.

    Mark slipped to the side, falling into a flow that he hadn¡¯t felt in a while. Union was cut off, but Mark had been dancing in battle long before Tutorial. He splashed one mudball with a hand, rushed forward and avoided the sudden curve of another. The others went wide enough that Mark didn¡¯t care about them anymore.

    Lenny¡¯s face spoke of disbelief. ¡°How the fuck!¡±

    The fight was still going.

    Isoko rushed forward, directly into the line of fire of one of Tartu¡¯s wands. Light splashed against a mirror and fell away, freezing the ground with icicles that did not seem real at all. The icicles misted away in the open air, and against the ground.

    Tartu tsk¡¯d, eyes wide, as he leapt into the air.

    Lenny dashed to the right, digging his fingers into the stone wall of the building and, like an escalator, Lenny flowed up the stone. Mark wasn¡¯t attacking, because he was too busy dodging, so Lenny had to reposition against Isoko, who was now close to both of them.

    Two more mudballs were already flying at Mark, and he focused on those, dodging one and then almost dodging the second one. The second slipped sideways and cracked into Mark¡¯s left leg, against one of his larger ceramic plates. The plate ablated, as it should, but the mud wrapped around his left leg and almost connected to his right leg, but Mark widened his legs when he saw what was going to happen; he was going to have his legs stuck together if he didn¡¯t move well enough. Thankfully that did not happen. The mud wrapped his left leg and held there.

    Mark rushed away, getting out of the anti-Union Domain. Twenty meters from the fight and Mark connected to the world once again. There was something inside the mud on his body. Mark didn¡¯t know how he knew it, but there was a tickle of magic inside the mud on his arm and his leg. What do? His Adamantiumkinesis was locked down for whatever reason, and everything felt sluggish, so he couldn¡¯t cut off the mud.

    Clean it up?

    It was mud after all.

    Mark beat his heart with purity and shoved away impurity. It did nothing against the mud, but something else was happening inside. Sickness flowed away with every beat of his heart, a darkness evaporating from his skin, and Mark gradually felt the adamantium cage around Quark, in his backpack, once again. On a twitch of an idea, he tried to connect to the Skill (or just skill) holding together the mud on his body, but how? The mud wasn¡¯t breathing. It wasn¡¯t anything. It was certainly some sort of separate thing, though, or else Mark¡¯s purity magic would have erased the mud already.

    So Mark knew he had to connect to the mud itself.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    How?

    It was moving with Mark, and it was already connected to him? Was that enough?

    That was enough for a Union. Mark moved and the mud moved with him, and three beats later the mud crumbled away and Mark raced into Tartu¡¯s anti-Union Domain again, where Isoko was engaging both Tartu and Lenny.

    She was agile and quick, but she could only throw rocks at the men in the air, and both of the men were able to defend against that. Tartu had some sort of flying shield that was intercepting stuff from Isoko¡¯s direction while Lenny stood sideways on the exterior of Potion Hall, feet embedded in the mud, while he used a wand to conjure more mud from the air, or from the wand itself. Mark couldn¡¯t tell. He had no idea how that particular wand functioned. Lenny turned those balls of mud into cannonballs, slamming them at Isoko, who tried to catch them and throw them back.

    It was like catching cannonballs, though, so Lenny was having a tough go of it.

    And then Isoko batted one mudball aside. She sent the balls to the ground as she leapt onto the exterior of Potion Hall, the stone turning platinum where she stood. She held there, on the wall. Grinning. She could wallwalk? She could wallwalk!

    ¡°That¡¯s fucking cheating, too!¡± Lenny said.

    ¡°Sucks to suck,¡± Isoko said, rushing at Lenny.

    Tartu pointed a wand at Isoko and shouted, ¡°Hey!¡±

    Frozen light shot from the wand again but Isoko ignored it this time and the attack splashed wide, peppering the facade of Potion Hall with misty icicle spikes.

    Tartu muttered something unkind, but he was in the air and fully away from the wall. Isoko wasn¡¯t headed in his direction.

    She gave chase against Lenny, and Lenny raced away, though both of them were going at walking speeds because if they ran then they would disconnect from the wall and they would fall. Isoko was faster than Lenny, by far. Twice as fast as a normal person, in fact.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me!¡± Tartu shouted, as he held a new wand in his hands, but he paused, reluctant to use that one.

    Isoko just laughed as she closed in on Lenny.

    Tartu glanced down at Mark rushing back into his Domain, but he was 5 meters up and he didn¡¯t think Mark¡¯s Adamantiumkinesis had returned. He pointed the black-tipped wand at Isoko¡ª

    ¡°Isoko! Tartu¡¯s wand!¡± Mark warned, as he reconnected to the adamantium on the ground, just fast enough to grab a broken stone from the side.

    Tartu sneered at him, but he was still focused fully on Isoko as he fired the wand. Solid illumination flowed directly at Isoko.

    Isoko turned and saw the solidness coming her way, but she just raised a hand against it while she kept after Lenny, who fired a ball of mud at her at the same time. She caught both. The mudball was just a ball. The light splashed from Isoko and wrapped around her like a fog.

    Lenny dropped to the ground and a foggy figure, Isoko, rushed to where Lenny had been. A mudball launched out of the fog and impacted 4 meters to Lenny¡¯s left. The fog tracked Isoko somehow, clinging to her. Even the stuff she had left behind raced after her. It was another shut-down wand. A fog wand.

    And while Tartu¡¯s floating shield was pointed at Isoko, Mark threw an adamantium-assisted boulder of stone right at Tartu¡¯s legs.

    The stone clipped him like a car clips a person; with deadly effect.

    Tartu cried out and went tumbling in the air, landing on the edge of whatever platform he had created, an arm hanging off the side and several things falling from his person. Mark took absolute advantage of the strike and hovered up at him, grabbing him by the neck even as he cried out in pain. His leg was bent the wrong way and Mark barely cared about that.

    Lenny shouted, ¡°No!¡± And threw mudballs at Mark.

    They struck his back and clung there, grabbing at his face and obscuring an eye¡ª

    But a cloudy Isoko landed on the ground next to Lenny and a platinum arm burst from the cloud, grabbing Lenny¡¯s anything. She managed to grab his robes, and then it was over for Lenny. Isoko Tactile Telekinesis¡¯d his robes, turning them platinum, locking Lenny into his own fabrics. She picked him up and walked away with him, saying, ¡°You and I can have a talk over here while they have their own talk over there.¡±

    Lenny shouted something, but Isoko told him something louder.

    Mark was too focused on Tartu to care about what Isoko did to Lenny.

    A red rage flowed, and Mark felt good.

    Tartu had seen better days.

    Mark locked down his arms with adamantium, making sure he couldn¡¯t move, and then Mark sat on top of the guy, holding him down. Mark had an easy 40 kilos on the thinner mage and his hand was around Tartu¡¯s neck, but the adamantium locked around those wrists is what kept Tartu fully contained.

    Tartu glared, hateful and furious in his forced T-pose on the ground.

    Mark glared, too.

    They were still inside the anti-Union Domain.

    ¡°Drop the anti-Union Domain and I¡¯ll heal you,¡± Mark said, holding Tartu down in every way possible, one fist at Tartu¡¯s throat.

    Tartu remained silent, furious. The Domain remained active.

    Mark glanced backward at Tartu¡¯s broken leg, at how it was bent in at least two places. ¡°I broke the femur, but your fall broke the ankle.¡± He stared down at Tartu, taunting, ¡°Should drink more milk.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, hidden demon.¡±

    Tartu focused and the Domain shifted.

    A weight slammed into Mark¡¯s soul, grabbing onto his astral body and locking him down, much like he had experienced when he was training to lift adamantium. It was a last-ditch effort. It was manageable. Mark¡¯s adamantium grip on Tartu¡¯s outstretched arms was just as good as his physical grip on his neck. Tartu thrashed under Mark, but the guy was in a lot of pain, and Mark¡¯s simple weight was enough to hold him there.

    And Tartu¡¯s Domain effort didn¡¯t work well enough.

    More than that, it appeared he could only do one Domain at a time over an area, because Mark¡¯s unionsense returned. Slowly, sluggishly, Union was there once again.

    Mark breathed deep, then said, ¡°I suppose that¡¯s following the letter of the order, if not the intent.¡± Mark squeezed his hand a little. Tartu clenched his teeth so hard one of them could have broken. Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m going to straighten your leg now. It¡¯s gonna hurt.¡±

    Mark did exactly that, grabbing the guy¡¯s leg with an adamantium grip and pulling it straight. Tartu screamed. Suddenly, it was all too much for Mark. Mark felt ill to hurt another person like this... but he did it anyway. For another 3 seconds. And then he connected to Tartu with Union and breathed out pain, while breathing in comfort. Tartu¡¯s scream ended as fast as it came. He glared at Mark, but less with hate, and more with a strange sort of worry.

    Mark kept up the pain/comfort breathing while healing Tartu with a Union of Blood.

    Tartu was confused. He asked, ¡°What¡ª¡±

    Mark punched Tartu in the face with his free hand, saying, ¡°Shut up.¡±

    There was a snap and Tartu¡¯s nose was way broken, but he barely felt it; Mark could tell. Tartu looked more surprised than in pain, even with that new flatness to his face. Mark was still running pain/comfort, though, so of course Tartu didn¡¯t feel it. Tartu had spared Mark the pain of his beating, so it was only fair to return the favor. At least a little.

    Tartu did snort and choke on the blood, but Mark used his free hand to wiggle Tartu¡¯s nose back into position. A few heartbeats later and the wound was gone. The blood remained.

    Mark spoke, ¡°I was thinking of how to shut you down for two days, just like you did for me. I don¡¯t have a really good solution because there is none. It¡¯s dangerous to do something like that, Tartu. I¡¯m not a kaiju killer, but I¡¯m still on the team as support. If something had happened then I would have tried to Union with whoever was going to fight, and maybe my help would have been necessary, or maybe not.

    ¡°With that shavallian, you made a bet that I wasn¡¯t needed for those two days.

    ¡°You got lucky.

    ¡°It could have been a disaster.

    ¡°You deserve to be down for two days, too.

    ¡°But I¡¯m not sure how to¡ª¡±

    Tartu tried to speak again.

    Mark punched him again. Twice this time. Tartu tried to speak, to call it off, or whatever. But Mark punched him a few more times and Tartu got the message. He went limp under Mark, and Mark healed the guy back up. No permanent damage here!

    He had to move one of Tartu¡¯s teeth back into position, but the guy was fine afterward.

    Mark stared at Tartu, daring him to try to speak again.

    Tartu said nothing.

    Mark nodded, and continued, ¡°I don¡¯t want to put you down for any real length of time. That¡¯s just wrong. So, here¡¯s my solution: Stay in your room, your house, of your own volition, for the next two days, Tartu. Unless there¡¯s an attack and you need to be on the wall, or wherever, of course. This is my solution. Do you understand? You can speak now.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes,¡± Tartu said, reluctantly, as though he wondered if he was going to get punched again. He was still full of rage, though. He wanted to do more than just agree. He wanted to fight.

    ¡°It¡¯s good you understand.¡± Mark glared. ¡°But do you agree to these terms?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yes.¡±

    Mark stood up and pulled his adamantium away.

    He stepped four meters away and waited for Tartu to stand. Mark glanced around, looking for Aurora or anyone else in power, but she wasn¡¯t anywhere close and obvious. There was no one close and obvious, besides all of the spectators. The vectors far to the side and in the air might have been Aurora or someone else. Maybe a few of the guards for the army? The military police were surely around here somewhere. Mark would find out about that later.

    Mark was focused on Tartu.

    Tartu stood and brushed himself off, straightening his robes, though the brushing was more for show than anything else. He was still covered in blood and dirt.

    Mark said, ¡°It should go without saying that reprisal for this will be met rather harshly. This was me getting even, Tartu. Blackvein wasn¡¯t involved at all.¡±

    Tartu asked, ¡°Where did you get more adamantium?¡±

    ¡°I have sources.¡±

    ¡°Is he here? Has he been here? What has he done.¡±

    ¡°Nothing, to my knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Kaijushit. Addashield was capable of infiltrating anywhere and doing anything he wanted ever since he turned archmage 350 years ago. His dragon progeny can do the same. What has he done while he was here, delivering adamantium to you?¡±

    Mark glared. He repeated, ¡°Nothing, to my knowledge.¡±

    Tartu glared.

    The audience recorded on phones and they also just watched. Some were mad. Some were worried. None interfered.

    Mark said, ¡°Go home, Tartu. Lock yourself in your house for two days.¡±

    And then Mark walked away.

    Isoko was waiting for him at the far end of the lawn, near the tram, with her grip on Lenny¡¯s clothes. Lenny was still locked down in his own garments. She let go when Mark got close enough, though.

    Lenny stumbled away, saying, ¡°Fuck you that was unfair.¡±

    ¡°It was a spar, you lost,¡± Isoko said, almost uncaring. ¡°Cry more, and maybe the scales will be slightly more even.¡± She stared death, adding, ¡°But the scales are not even, Lenny. Not at all.¡±

    Lenny frowned, and then he walked away, toward Tartu and the crowd of people in the distance.

    Mark heard raised voices in that crowd and he saw people flinch away, but he stopped looking, caring, and then he continued into the tram station with Isoko. Isoko was still Full Platinum, her footsteps causing the ground to flicker platinum alongside her stride.

    They were not alone in the tram station this time, but the only people there were a trio of girls standing to the side. One of them had their phone out, recording, but she put it away when Mark looked at her¡ª

    A pair of vectors came down from the sky. One vector was pissed, the other was less pissed. Mark somehow recognized one of them before he even saw her.

 161

    Aurora landed on the open air platform of the tram station, along with a man in white robes. They settled down several meters from Mark and Isoko. Aurora looked normal, all prismatic white and with sunset eyes. She didn¡¯t look or seem too mad.

    The man was Grand Mage Rekaro Solari. He looked like an older Tartu by several decades. He was not frail with age, but he was certainly wizened. And he was absolutely pissed, his face all harsh lines beneath his bushy grey eyebrows and beard.

    Rekaro was furious, but his voice was not, ¡°Not as bad as I expected. Worse than it ever should have been.¡± He breathed, and then he handed down his sentence, ¡°Tartu will NOT be confined to quarters for 2 days, you will be in the brig for a week, and all of your points are confiscated. You too, Miss Kanno.¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Mark said, too readily, fury reigniting. ¡°You went too far with the points. Fuck you and fuck your son.¡±

    Isoko sighed just a little.

    Rekaro¡¯s eyes went wide, his lined face turning red¡ª

    ¡°There will be no confiscation of anything,¡± Aurora said.

    Rekaro rounded on Aurora, ¡°I demand¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mark and Tartu are soldiers of the same rank,¡± Aurora stated, voice loud, and Rekaro went quiet, his rage hidden beneath many layers of decorum. Softer, Aurora continued, ¡°To involve the personal grudges of superiors in conflicts among lessers is beneath us all, and I will not have these sorts of actions be made commonplace here in this settlement. The rules for breaking the rules are clear: For a fight which results in no lasting physical injury, Mark and Isoko will be confined to the brig for 2 days. They will have one demerit each and they will have to take shit jobs for the week following their release. Further demerits will result in similar disciplinary action which will be determined on a case-by-case basis.¡± She looked at Mark. ¡°I will not be enforcing the demand you made upon Tartu.¡±

    That was fine with him. Mark would be enforcing his demands made on Tartu, if Tartu should fail to follow through. Mark didn¡¯t say that, though.

    Aurora frowned a little.

    ¡­ Oh right. She was a Telepath. Mark didn¡¯t have to say anything.

    Well then!

    Mark certainly thought about what he would do if Tartu should fail to follow through with the demand Mark made upon him, and it started with cutting off feet¡ª

    ¡°Stop it, Mark.¡± Aurora¡¯s frown deepened, and she looked to Rekaro. ¡°I suggest that you make peace with Tartu being confined to quarters for 2 days, and end this conflict with the peace offering you are being granted¡ª Do not speak and interrupt this recommendation.¡±

    Rekaro closed his mouth. He Looked at Aurora, and said, ¡°We will have words later.¡±

    ¡°We shall,¡± Aurora said.

    And then Rekaro walked past Mark and Isoko, toward Mage Society.

    Isoko called out, ¡°Can Mark and I sign up for mage classes, Grand Mage Sir!¡±

    ¡°Never!¡± Rekaro spat, and then he kept walking.

    Rekaro got pretty far, pretty fast, because he saw Tartu. Tartu had walked away from the Potion House, Lenny trailing him, both of them walking toward the main building. But then Tartu glanced and saw his father walking toward him, and he cringed, looking down. Rekaro rushed his son, grabbing his shoulders, looking him over fast, to find him okay. There was blood, but Rekaro flashed a hand and the blood and dirt vanished.

    Their meeting was too far and too quiet to understand much at all, except Mark felt Rekaro¡¯s rage melt away, replaced with concern, while Tartu¡¯s vector was a confusing jumble of embarrassment, attempted pride, and deep, utter humiliation. Rekaro ushered his son and Lenny away from prying eyes, beyond the guys in robes standing watch beside the entrance to Mage Society proper.

    Those guys standing watch were on full alert right now. It was a marked difference from when they were shooting the shit and not really guarding anything at all.

    It only took 30 seconds for Rekaro and his son to meet and then disappear into Mage Society.

    Mark and Isoko both turned back to Aurora.

    Aurora had a disappointed, long-suffering sort of look to her.

    Isoko pretended to be repentant as she asked, ¡°I had to check, right?¡±

    Aurora sighed, then said, ¡°He¡¯ll realize later that he gave up the right to control your education, but emotions are high and he does love his son very much. He is a good man¡­¡± She decided not to say whatever she was going to say, and then she looked at Mark. ¡°Are you trying to be a problem?¡±

    It was a simple question.

    Mark said, ¡°I was hoping to end problems, actually. If Tartu doesn¡¯t stay inside his house then I¡¯ll do this again until he does. It¡¯s only fair, right? He stole at least 200 million goldleaf from me, and it¡¯s not like I stole anything from him. This was just a beating¡ª¡±

    ¡°A spar,¡± Isoko quietly offered.

    ¡°A spar,¡± Mark said. ¡°Spars are fine, right?¡±

    There was logic in those statements.

    Aurora did not want to deal with any of that logic.

    ¡°¡­ You¡¯ll wait until my moratorium on the HVP is over, then whatever happens will happen. Two months. March 20th. Set a date if you have to, because if something happens before that date then everyone involved is getting demerits and bitch work. I¡¯ve already told Rekaro all of this, though he and I will be having a larger conversation later. Thanks for that.¡±

    That was not a sincere thanks. There were no questions in any of that. It was all orders.

    Mark said, ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Aurora looked to Isoko. ¡°You want those mage lessons?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Isoko readily said, standing tall. ¡°Mark, too.¡±

    ¡°Me too, please,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Of course.¡± Aurora glanced back at the tram tracks, and at the tram headed their way. She said, ¡°You¡¯ll both be reporting for mage classes from my mother starting after your time in the brig. I¡¯ll have her throw you a message. Both of you turn yourself in to the brig by 8 PM tonight, though earlier is fine. You¡¯ll be staying there for two days.¡± The tram stopped where it was supposed to stop. Aurora said, ¡°Get going.¡±

    Mark and Isoko both bowed and rushed onto the tram. They were the only ones on the tram again.

    The three women who were waiting at the tram station decided to take the next one.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    As the tram pulled away from the station, Mark watched Aurora fly into the sky in a burst of rainbows, and then he looked down and saw a hovercart rushing in from the east. It was going fast and headed right for Mage Society, and it didn¡¯t seem safe to drive like that. Mark wasn¡¯t sure who was on the hovercart exactly, but they looked in a real hurry, and they drove right onto the grasses between the buildings¡ª

    Oh.

    It was Kardi and Shawn.

    Mark hmm¡¯d, then sat down. The tram was too far away from Mage Society to see the place anymore. He looked to Isoko who had been looking out the window with him.

    ¡°That was Kardi and Shawn, yeah?¡± Isoko asked.

    Mark joked, ¡°I guess we got lucky that Shawn and Kardi were absent.¡±

    ¡°More like they got lucky,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Things would have gone a lot worse if we had to pull some real maneuvers.¡±

    Mark hummed. ¡°¡­ Yeah. Maybe. They would have had more power, but they would have had more weaknesses to cover, too.¡±

    ¡°Also true.¡± Isoko grinned. ¡°Good shot with that rock throw. I distracted his hovershield, though!¡±

    ¡°You did! It was great. You made a good shot, too! Right into the window. I was a little worried that it was going to be overkill.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I called out and warned them.¡±

    ¡°I thought it was to make sure those vectors on the third floor were actually them.¡±

    Isoko spoke proudly, ¡°It was a multi-purpose taunt.¡±

    Mark smiled.

    Isoko said, ¡°I was pretty sure Tartu was out of his anti-Union Domain for a good moment there in the beginning. Why no alpha strike?¡±

    Mark winced. ¡°Ah¡­ Well. I could lie and say it felt wrong to do that, but honestly¡­ I forgot.¡±

    ¡°Thought so. It¡¯s probably better that we beat him in a straight fight, anyway. Less room for misplaced feelings there.¡± She asked, ¡°You feel better?¡±

    Mark luxuriated in the glow of that question.

    ¡°Yes. 100% better. Thanks for being here with me.¡±

    Isoko grinned a little. ¡°So you sat on him and punched him?¡±

    ¡°He couldn¡¯t throw me off at all! Needs to do more weightlifting, for sure. Also, I think he can only do one Domain at a time. I thought he could have overlapped them?¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow, her vector pointed in one direction¡­ and then she shifted directions and said, ¡°He was probably focused on power, or density, or whatever. That¡¯s a thing, right? Purity of intent in magic seems like it might be a thing¡­¡±

    They spoke for a little while about the fight, and about everything around the fight.

    - - - -

    The brig was located down a simple tunnel at the bottom of Castle South, the administration center of the settlement.

    The brig was solidly made, with thick walls and no windows. And yet, it had clean air, kept that way by cleaner plants in planters here and there, and circulating systems that could be turned off or on as needed. It was a modified emergency bunker. There were 10 other emergency bunkers located under Castle South, and elsewhere in the settlement, but this was the only one that was a brig.

    It was more like a day spa than a brig, and it was huge inside with a bunch of options for relaxation. A hot tub and a running yard and a weight room, and some big screens with movies on tap. The bunk beds were big and just the right amount of hardness and softness at the same time, and the blankets and clothes were comfortable, though it was all Basic Brown. It was quiet, save for the flow of water.

    The food was gruel and water, delivered by drone, but that was fine.

    They were the only ones in the brig, and the door was simply left open. There were no guards. It was the honor system. Mark imagined that brig wasn¡¯t actually as open as it appeared, because a servitor drone at the entrance warned them that they needed to stay inside, but that was the only interaction with any ¡®brig staff¡¯ that Mark and Isoko would experience for the next two days.

    Eliot and Sally visited both nights, but they weren¡¯t allowed to come inside, according to the servitor at the front. There was a clear wall between the brig and the hallway outside, though, with places to sit and visit for a while. The visiting area was right beside the open door.

    Eliot showed off the video of the fight that he had cobbled together from various sources, talking about how he needed to actually be there next time and he¡¯d get better video. Sally also lamented that she wasn¡¯t able to be there, but she would be there next time.

    And then Eliot showed the end of the fight, with Mark sitting on top of Tartu, and the video turned into hearts and little rainbows, and Isoko started laughing a laugh she had been holding in for days. Mark was, apparently, getting ¡®shipped¡¯ with Tartu online, in various hero/villain forums¡ª

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear about it!¡± Mark exclaimed, ¡°No no no!¡±

    Eliot laughed and changed the subject.

    Sleeping in the brig was okay.

    Isoko slept in the bunk beside Mark, so it wasn¡¯t nearly as lonely as expected.

    Mostly, it was boring.

    Isoko and Mark took to pumping weights in competition and also sparring a few times, but both of them were crawling at the walls by 5 PM on the second day.

    Mark and Isoko raced out of the brig at 8:01 PM, two days after entering, both of them rushing into the tunnel under Castle South, and then slowing down as soon as they were past the clear visiting wall and they couldn¡¯t see the damned brig anymore.

    They chuckled and laughed, and then they walked easier, eager to get back into the world.

    They hadn¡¯t even left the tunnel yet before Isoko asked the question that their entire team had been avoiding for the last two days.

    ¡°Think Tartu stayed in his house?¡±

    Mark felt his anxieties tense as he brought out Quark and asked the question, ¡°Where has Tartu been for the last 2 days?¡±

    It would be weird for Quark to be able to answer that question, but Mark and Isoko both expected that question to be preapproved. They didn¡¯t know if it was a question Quark could actually answer until this moment here, though.

    Quark flickered silver as he thought.

    And then Quark said, ¡°Tartu Solari entered his mansion 2 days ago at 7:23 PM and left for dinner with friends at 6:01 PM today, for less than 47 hours of self confinement.¡±

    ¡­ Well then.

    ¡­ Mark hummed as he tried to figure out how he felt about that. It was almost 48 hours.

    Was that good enough?

    Isoko said, ¡°We entered at 6:50 and left at 8; over 49 hours.¡±

    ¡°But 47 hours is¡­ is good enough, right?¡±

    ¡°He still snubbed you, but it wasn¡¯t as much as it could have been. So yeah. It¡¯s not that bad. We could go have a friendly chat with him?¡±

    ¡°No no.¡± Mark put Tartu out of his mind as he put Quark back into his pocket, saying, ¡°We got shit to do. Demerits. Shit work.¡±

    Isoko frowned. ¡°I think it¡¯s actual sewer cleaning.¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s easy, right? Purity/impurity.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Maybe. So maybe it¡¯s not that?¡±

    Turned out there was magical shit in the sewers of Daihoon, and only a little bit of it was actual shit. Yes, even in the clean sewers that Eliot had built last week. They were pretty big sewers, though, meant for an expanding population, so there was a lot of ground to cover, and a lot of places for tiny not-really-monsters to breed. Mostly, it was slimes that moved and ate things, and that tried to eat Mark and Isoko, but that¡¯s what big electrical prods were for. Zap zap! The slimes exploded into a very weak miasma which offended the sense of smell more than anything else. And then came purity/impurity work.

    That was only for an hour in the morning, though.

    Mostly, the ¡®shit work¡¯ of those with demerits was basic brawny work, moving boxes and cargo around for the various guilds of the settlement. It wasn¡¯t that bad at all.

 162

    It was another day of basic brawny work, and Mark was sweating under the bright sun.

    ¡°Up here! Yup! Now a little to the left¡ª Good!¡± said the small woman, who owned her own cargo hovervan, and who had way too many opinions about how to stack things and how to go about stacking things. Mark already knew about weight distribution and the boxes were clearly marked for fragility and special handling, thank you very much. And yet, the woman continued. ¡°Now for the next one!¡± She rapidly added, ¡°And thank you for not scratching my ship!¡±

    ¡­ Little bit patronizing, but that was fine.

    Mark didn¡¯t know the woman¡¯s name, for she was one of a hundred different people who had come and gone in the last week with their personal or larger cargo hovervans. She was nicer than most, but she was pretty faceless to him.

    She just had to go and comment about the scratching, though, didn¡¯t she.

    With a practiced grip and crushing the tiny voice inside that told him he hated this, Mark kept his adamantium flat and wider than normal as he gently gripped the ship and lowered himself to the ground, just a single meter below the lip of the craft. He wasn¡¯t even putting that much pressure on the cargo hold! But, as he moved things in and out¡­ Well. Adamantium was a lot tougher than steel of any kind.

    Mark had caused a bunch of minor damage here and there this last week, so yeah, that was on him.

    The sun shone brightly beyond the auroras overhead, the steel floor of the cargo transfer station was already scratched to hell so Mark¡¯s marks didn¡¯t matter much, and there was only one more day to go¡ª

    ¡°That one with the fragile markings on it, please!¡± said the small woman from the edge of her ship. ¡°That one needs to go in the front, in the softstasis field. It¡¯s VERY FRAGILE! Please¡­ Please be careful!¡±

    Also, the woman was probably smuggling something, but a lot of people were doing that, and it wasn¡¯t Mark¡¯s department.

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am! I¡¯ll be super careful,¡± Mark grunted.

    The woman moved to the front of her cargo hold and Mark spread his adamantium out into a good ten soft dollops for support, along with an entire net of wide adamantium to wrap around the fragile box. The signage on the box read 46 kilos, so Mark knew how much pressure it would take to lift the thing. Not much. With careful application, he gripped the box and held it lightly.

    So lightly!

    Floating it into the softstasis field at the front of the cargo hold, right where the woman wanted it to go, seemed simple enough. Or at least it would have been. The woman said ¡®careful careful¡¯ a few times too many, in Mark¡¯s opinion. He picked it up just fine, and he was extra careful with it as he moved it toward the ship. He was good at this.

    And yet¡­

    Yeah.

    Mark was pretty much the last person you¡¯d want loading cargo ships.

    Mark had thought he had been dexterous with his Adamantiumkinesis before the start of this cargo-moving ¡®bitch work¡¯, as Aurora had called it, but it turned out, in the beginning at least, that Mark was too heavy. He had always seen brawnies move shit like it didn¡¯t matter what was inside, which was still true! But only for brawnies. Specifically, brawnies with Tactile Telekinesis.

    Mark and all the other poor bastards who didn¡¯t have TT needed to be careful as fuck, otherwise they broke shit all the damned time¡­ More often than normal, anyway. The ¡®normal amount of breaking¡¯ was ¡®absolutely none!¡¯. Mark hadn¡¯t broken anything, either, but there had been a few close calls in those first days of moving stuff. Luckily, or rather on purpose, they had put him on vegetable and perishable goods shipments at first, and that stuff could take a little bit of a beating.

    Vials of mana crystals and other packaged monster parts could not take a beating at all.

    Some things exploded when moved improperly. Mark hadn¡¯t seen it happen here, but the old hands talked about horror stories all the time. They always rapidly added that things were much better in the settlement, though. Much less dangerous shit going through this port!

    For now.

    Anyway. All of the shipping boxes had markings that told how difficult they were to move, and how fragile they actually were. Everything Mark saw on this ¡®obviously purposefully mislabeled¡¯ box said that it was a 7 out of 10 on the fragile scale. A bunch of small crystal-shaped markings and some numbers and letters told Mark that this one was probably mana crystals.

    Mana crystals wouldn¡¯t break that easily. This thing could probably drop off of the back of the hovercar and land on solid rock and it was 50-50 odds that everything inside would survive just fine.

    Mark wouldn¡¯t say that the woman was overreacting, or that the box didn¡¯t need that much care, or anything like that. He had done that once. In the beginning of his demerit work. The dressing down he had been given by the overseer of the shipping yard had been very unwelcome, but at least all the onlooking guys and girls on ¡®basic work¡¯, which is what most people called this, were all just grinning as Mark got yelled at.

    Everyone got the ¡®respect the tags on the boxes!¡¯ speech at least once.

    Mark set the box into the softstasis field, and with the box in place the woman flicked a switch and the softstasis field turned on; a gentle blue light wrapping the box and holding it tight.

    The woman who owned the cargocraft had been nervous all this time, her vector strongly pointed directly at the box that Mark had just placed. But now she relaxed.

    She didn¡¯t seem to care about how Mark loaded any of the other boxes; oh sure, she pretended, but her vector told the truth.

    Ten minutes later and the woman was signing papers with Carl.

    Mark liked Carl. Yesterday Mark¡¯s partner had been some guy named James, and the day before it had been a woman who Mark forgot already, but today it was Carl, the Bomber who had shared fried chicken strips with Mark, Eliot, Isoko, and Sally, on the Grey Whale, when they were en route to the settlement. While Mark hung out, sitting on a chair he made out of his own adamantium, in Union with everyone in the nearest 200 meters of the shipping yard, Carl went through paperwork with the woman.

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    After tapping through a few screens on Carl¡¯s tablet and then signing her name a few times, the woman hopped into her cargo craft and Carl sent off an ¡®affirmative¡¯ to the traffic control tower. Traffic control was a big tower in the center of the field that had eyes and sensors on everything and everyone in the area. It flickered with laserlights, shining down on the cargocraft, and then it painted a line of light in the air for the cargocraft to follow. Like she had done it a thousand times before, though never from here, the woman guided her cargocraft into the air, down the illuminated path, to get clear of the field¡­ and then go right back down onto a different field, a kilometer away.

    A bunch of ships were over on that field. Some were as large as a mansion but at least 40 more were sized like big vans, or tram-sized. The woman would sit and wait there with a bunch of other people, and all of them would leave together. Maybe. Some people caravaned when they moved stuff around the world. Some people, like the woman Mark had just loaded up, had ships that could turn invisible and zoom away from practically everything out there. She was probably going to get something else to smuggle out of here, though whatever it was Mark had no idea.

    ¡°Do we have smuggling laws here?¡± Mark asked.

    Carl snorted. ¡°That box was mislabeled to hell and back, but the woman had the Seal of Empire on her paperwork. If she forged those documents then that is a bigger problem than you or I can handle.¡±

    Mark hummed, nodding. ¡°Why is she staying, then?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s getting something unique from¡­¡± Carl looked at his tablet. ¡°Ah! From House Umbral. From Lord Cedric Umbral himself. So yeah. She¡¯s a big deal.¡±

    Lord Cedric Umbral was Shadowstrike, on the kaiju team. Mark hadn¡¯t met the guy yet, except in passing. He was busy all the time, as far as Mark knew.

    ¡°What¡¯s Shadowstrike shipping that he can¡¯t trust to label properly?¡±

    Carl smiled as he tapped at his tablet, saying, ¡°No idea! Not my department.¡±

    ¡°No idea what was in the box at all?¡±

    ¡°It was approved as a specialty package, and not to be Tactile Telekinesis¡¯d; that¡¯s all I knew.¡±

    Mark thought back to what he had seen on the box. ¡°¡­ It wasn¡¯t marked as ¡®NO TT¡¯?"

    Carl shrugged, and then he looked up and away, nodding and waving at the next vehicle coming through the air. He didn¡¯t answer Mark¡¯s concern, because there was another shipping job to be done, and this one was unloading.

    The hovercraft parked. The door opened.

    Some guy was already standing there, yelling, ¡°Now be CAREFUL with these ones!¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t roll his eyes. This time. He had been called out for that sort of ¡®disrespect¡¯ three times already, and he didn¡¯t care to be called out a fourth time, and especially not by some stranger who was also just doing their job.

    Mark merely said, ¡°Sir yes sir,¡± as he disassembled his adamantium chair and got to work¡ª

    ¡°Dear GODS you¡¯re that boy, aren¡¯t you?¡± asked the delivery guy, his vector suddenly focusing.

    Mark lied, ¡°This is dark iron, sir, but I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­¡± The delivery guy frowned. He mostly stopped caring about Mark. ¡°You get that a lot, I guess? Well. Uh. Be careful.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Of course, sir.¡±

    Mark had been recognized a few times already. Lying was easier than telling the truth. Some people didn¡¯t accept Mark¡¯s easy lie, but most did!

    Meanwhile, Carl was there, saying, ¡°If you¡¯ll come over here I have paperwork¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right right right right!¡± said the delivery guy.

    It was a pretty normal day of ¡®Basic Work¡¯, which was a term Mark appreciated much more than ¡®bitch work¡¯, because this was exactly the sort of work that the guys who made Basic Income would do all the time. The people who worked for Basic Income got paid good money for their efforts. Yeah, it was backbreaking, but only for a normal person. For any Tutorial-taker on Earth, which usually resulted in a brawny, it was pretty much ¡®move here, pick this up, move it over there, put it down¡¯, and brawnies never ran out of power. Mostly. Using TT too much could weaken a brawny, but not too much, and not for long.

    Mark could go all day long, too, if all he had to use was his physical strength. Healthy Body might not have a multiplier of any kind, but it was still Healthy Body, and brawny bodies of all kinds almost never stopped.

    As Mark moved more shit from here to there or back again, he thought about how this could have been his life.

    If he hadn¡¯t gotten involved with Addashield.

    In that sort of world he would have been using his physical body, while being stingy with his Tactile Telekinesis so he wouldn¡¯t run out of juice. Here, he was using his astral body almost exclusively, what with the kinesis and Union and all, but he also had Union to keep himself and the nearest hundred others all going strong, too.

    Mom and Dad would still be alive.

    Addashield would have fully Fallen.

    Maybe they¡¯d all be dead, anyway.

    Maybe this was the only way for Mark to survive.

    Maybe this was the good outcome for the world.

    A lot of people seemed to believe that.

    ¡­ Anyway, this sort of work was worth 330 goldleaf for a day of work, which was only 4 hours long. That was a lot more money than what Dad or Mom used to make fishing or cleaning and editing, but not by much. 330 a day was a whole lot less than what Dad made on a good day, though. There were reasons that Dad¡¯s employees, Trace and Devon, worked for him, even though they were brawnies¡­

    Mark paused, standing there holding onto a box that weighed 210 kilos, as he thought about Dad¡¯s employees. This was the first time he had thought about Trace and Devon in a while. How were they doing? Were they alive? They had never responded to Mark¡¯s attempts to reach out, so he had stopped doing that months ago. He was pretty sure they were alive, but they wanted nothing to do with Mark. A lot of Orange City was like that. The world might like Mark, but Orange City did not¡­

    ¡­ Mark kept moving boxes.

    He¡¯d be glad when he didn¡¯t have to do this anymore.

    Basic work was only 4 hours a day and there was plenty of time left for other things, but¡­ it was too close to what Mark could have been, his old fate, and he didn¡¯t want to think about doing something like this for the rest of his life...

    He didn¡¯t want to think about how this¡­ was okay.

    Because it was okay, and he hated that. Moving shit? Getting paid well? It was okay. Mark still had most of the day left to kill monsters, too. Dad hauled fish in all the time, and that always did look fun¡­

    Oh gods.

    Mark breathed, shuddering¡ª

    ¡°You okay?¡± Carl asked, looking at Mark.

    Mark blinked and looked away, putting on a smile. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± A breath of purity/impurity and Mark turned back, and he knew his face wasn¡¯t red and his eyes weren¡¯t puffy at all. ¡°I musta¡­ musta gotten something in my eye.¡±

    Carl raised an eyebrow¡­ And then he said, ¡°Uh, so¡­ Did you catch the football game? Crytalis versus Nook? You look like a sports guy, yeah?¡±

    Mark grinned a little, and this time it was a real grin. ¡°I was on the¡ª¡±

    He was on the rugby team in high school, but that was pre-Tutorial. He never kept up with any of that because a lot of guys dropped out to focus on the Tutorial, and then Mark had been in a coma, and then he never checked on his old teammates because they never checked on him during the coma, which was either petty of him or wrong of them, or something like that, and then, when Addavein happened, Mark never checked on them because he didn¡¯t want to know how many of his classmates were dead, either from Tutorial, or from Addavein.

    Mark blinked from the deluge of those sudden, terrible thoughts, and then he tried to be pleasant, saying, ¡°I was on the rugby team in high school. It was fun. Kind of lost track of all sports teams, though.¡±

    ¡°Rugby always seemed like a lot of fun! It¡¯s not much different from football, yeah?¡±

    Mark found it pretty easy, actually, to talk about rugby, saying, ¡°Not really different, yeah, but you can¡¯t pass the ball forward in rugby. You have to run the ball, and...¡±

 163

    The sun was setting in the west, beyond the wall, and half of the world was a tangled aurora of gold, ruby, and the barest green. If you looked very, very carefully, you could see through to Endless Daihoon, in the valleys and mountains of color that made the sky what it was. The rest of the sky was half purple and as dark as it got on Daihoon, for the moon wasn¡¯t up yet, but this was Daihoon and so it never really got dark dark.

    Perpetual twilight; that¡¯s all.

    Mark kinda loved it.

    He liked the waters of the lake, lapping in the twilight, too.

    The lake was a lot less of a mudhole than it had been, just a week ago. It was a kilometer across, perfectly circular, and though this area in front of Mark was the only really deep part, since it was the fishery, the rest of the lake had at least a small layer of water across the entire distance. Here and there, big weeds grew on island-like spaces. There was talk of leaving the little islands alone, but the plan was to get rid of them and have a fully operational water source in the center of the city, and so that was still the plan.

    But people liked the little islands, and Mark did, too.

    They reminded him of the Floridas.

    Mark sat on a big bench next to the waters, his Union spread wide into those waters, to the fish tanks here and there. They were just like the fish tanks back at Orange City; big pillars of metal that formed a cage of bars in the waters, where little fish could swim out, and big fish and monsters could not fit through. These tanks were a little bigger than the fish tanks in the bay of Orange City, that Dad and the family had been the stewards of for the last 3 generations. The fish tanks here took up a good quarter of the lake. These tanks had a few more specializations than the ones back in Orange City, too.

    Mark was absolutely sure these fish tanks were truly enchanted, unlike the ones back in Orange City, which Mark was pretty sure were simply inscribed with the barest mana-soaking, anti-monster enchantments. They were probably basic stuff put there by some Hearthswellian priest or paladin years ago, and maybe they were kept up by the local Hearthswell church, but Mark never knew about that.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how the tanks worked in Orange City¡¯s bay at all.

    These fish tanks had sigils on them that glowed under the waters.

    Clearly magical.

    Outside of the obvious magic, the whole setup here was different, too, in a directed-farming sort of way.

    Dad and them would go out and harvest from the cages every few days, because that¡¯s where fish went to survive the open waters, but they didn¡¯t survive Dad and them.

    Here, fish went to the cages to eat.

    Person-sized boxes held on top of poles, angled off of the cage walls toward the middle of the fish tanks. Those were food dispensers. If Mark listened very, very carefully, using Union to boost his ability to hear, he could hear them tick every so often, and then plop some pellets into the middle of their tanks. The fish could leave the tanks and go pretty much anywhere in the lake they wanted, but the dispensers plopped out food every minute, and so the fish were predominantly in the tanks, getting fed.

    Mark fed all of the fish he could reach, though. Union was good like that, with sustenance and deprivation.

    Fish didn¡¯t ¡®breathe¡¯ like people, though they did move their mouths and water flowed over their gills well enough that Mark was able to connect to them with a Union of Breath. That was only part of the effort, though; the smaller part. Mostly, Mark connected a Union of Blood to every single fish out there, and all of the greenery growing in the lake, and all the world around them, feeding the fish with every beat of his heart. The plants gave up food for the ability to use Mark¡¯s connection with the greater world for their own gain, so they liked the arrangement, too.

    Sally liked getting fed, too.

    Sally cracked another beer open beside him, and then she handed him the beer. Mark smiled a little, flicking his empty into the recycling bin to the side, and then taking the offered drink. She cracked open another beer for herself and sipped.

    ¡°I miss the bay,¡± Sally said, looking out across the waters.

    ¡°Me too. More than I would have thought.¡±

    They sat in companionable silence, sipping beer, while Mark fed the fish.

    The waters had been churning under every dispenser out there, whenever the pellets dropped, but as Mark fed the fish the fish became less and less responsive to the food drops. The water still churned, of course. With the number of fish out there Mark could not really feed them all himself. But Mark connected to the plants under the waters, too, and the plants grew, and that would be more food for the fish as well, when Mark left for the night. Other people would come in and feed the fish whenever they wanted, but, as Mark had found out four days ago when he started coming here on routine, Mark was the only one capable of truly feeding them well.

    Some other paladins of Freyala, and especially the priests and paladins of the Farmer God Verdago, had already spoken with Mark about how the fish actually stopped being hungry when he came around. Even keeping the dispensers full with feed, and also through Union work, they could barely get the fish to calm down for a while.

    The guys and girls for the Farmer God, Verdago, had pumped up the fishes¡¯ reproductive cycles to the moon, and they were spawning like crazy out there, so it wasn¡¯t too surprising that they were always hungry. It was always going to be like that, too, because people wanted meat and fish were good eating.

    Mark thought that they were making the fish breed even faster since he was helping to keep them truly fed, but he hadn¡¯t asked anyone directly about that.

    Eventually, the feeding systems here would be kinda superfluous, and the lake would be deep enough and populated enough that the breeding magics would be unnecessary to fill the lake with fish. When that happened, years from now, they¡¯d be pulling meter-long almost-tunas from the lake every single hour. By then, there would be some concentrated magics to keep the plants growing well, to provide constant food and shelter to the fish, and that would be it. The city would be set for fish for a long time.

    Of course, if a dragon got involved and they wanted food, then things would need to be adjusted, but Mark was pretty sure they were not going to allow dragons¡ª

    ¡°What ya thinking about?¡± Sally asked.

    ¡°A lot of things. About really big fish for dinner, currently... I was thinking about the future. How about you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying not to think at all,¡± Sally said, ¡°My stomach isn¡¯t yelling at me to ¡®gimmie gimmie gimmie!¡¯ so that¡¯s pretty great. Calming. I feel like a sated fish!¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re finally feeling full, too.¡± Mark felt the vectors of the fish in the water as they flowed in and out of range, and as they moved away from the tanks... if they could move away. Some couldn¡¯t? Hmm. Mark said, ¡°Looks like some of the fish are big enough to get stuck in the tanks already, but most of them are headed away, back to the mud and the grasses. Or to breed. Again.¡±

    Sally chuckled. ¡°That Farmer magic, eh?¡±

    ¡°Seriously, I think that¡¯s all some of them are doing out there.¡±

    Sally laughed. ¡°Of course they are!¡±

    Mark wanted to enjoy whatever Sally was enjoying right now, but he looked at the water and felt the fish who were probably fucking, and the fish¡­ sort of stopped. Some of them. Some of those vectors simply¡­ went away.

    ¡°I think the ones who fuck too much fuck themselves to death.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Hell. That¡¯s less fun.¡±

    Mark laughed at that. And then he teased, ¡°The frys are eating the newly dead ones. Might even be children eating their parents.¡±

    ¡°Oh gods what the fuck, Mark!¡± And then Sally laughed.

    Mark grinned. ¡°You still want to eat a big one though?¡±

    ¡°I absolutely do.¡± Sally looked at Mark. ¡°But I want to go on a raid, more.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Is it time?¡± Mark got excited. ¡°Is there something on the boards for us?¡±

    ¡°A few different options. Eliot might have seen something else since we switched buddies, but¡­¡± Sally explained, ¡°Some goblins are setting up camp to the east. The big teams passed on them because they¡¯re a new outbreak of the fuckers and not very established, so they don¡¯t have any treasure to steal. Aurora still wants them gone before they can establish themselves, but none of the people who want the goblin runs are going for them. It¡¯s an extermination run. All of the danger of a normal goblin hunt but none of the rewards. Except for 10k points, like all of the options.

    ¡°Then there¡¯s a mini-kaiju to the southwest, in a lake-ish area beside the Shine. It¡¯s some mushroom thing, spreading spores everywhere. Big fucker. Not a true kaiju.

    ¡°And then there¡¯s some missing monsters to the north. Kandon already sent investigators that way, but they turned up nothing. It became a raid a few hours ago, and they want people who are thinking about becoming Inquisitors to head that way, so I¡¯m kinda partial to that one.¡± Sally added, ¡°But I know you probably want the mini-kaiju.¡±

    Sally knew him well, then.

    Mark rapidly thought through the options, then said, ¡°Eliot can¡¯t possibly want to do goblins, so not them. And yeah. The mini-kaiju is my pick...¡± But then he said, ¡°The missing monsters, though... I think I heard someone say something about that... Some Farmer. Some lampers went missing? Some expensive-as-fuck breed, too.¡±

    Lampers were some sort of light mana crystal generating, bee-adjacent, hive-producing flying fish that built nests in hard-to-reach areas and then defended those nests to the death. They were sort of light fish, but they were a specific breed that were incredibly easy to tend to and which spread rather well, if they were allowed to spread. You generally put 5 hives out and then next month you¡¯d have 10 hives, and then 15 hives the month afterward. They didn¡¯t spread as fast as you¡¯d expect a monster to spread, which was good. And if you only took half the hive, they came back just as strong as before without spreading at all.

    ¡­ But, there was an issue.

    Mark asked, ¡°But they can hide well? They¡¯re light fish-y, so they can hide in the light. Were they just hidden? Were there nest remains? From being eaten by monsters?¡±

    ¡°No evidence of the hives being broken into and eaten. Just gone. They were there, and then they weren¡¯t! So that means they were taken by someone.¡± Sally tipped her beer a little, pointing at nothing and everything, saying, ¡°Some noble in competition with some other noble probably stole them.¡±

    Mark hummed, and then thought. ¡°Nah. They wouldn¡¯t do that¡ª¡±

    Sally gave him a Look and a bit of an eye roll.

    ¡°¡­ Okay. Well¡­¡± Mark perked up as he thought of something. ¡°There wasn¡¯t anyone else in the brig!¡±

    ¡°¡­ Yeah, so?¡±

    ¡°It was just me and Isoko and the place looked unused. Sure, the servitors clean it up all the time, but the point is that no one is making problems... except Tartu¡­ And then me.¡± Mark grinned a little as he remembered punching Tartu¡¯s face. And then he banished that grin. It wasn¡¯t right to hit people like that. They were all in this together, after all. Mark added, ¡°Even if only Isoko and I got time in the brig, there are 10,000 people here and since there was no one in the brig, we can conclude that there haven¡¯t been any offenses that resulted in brig time. Aurora picked her people well. No one stole those fish. Some monster ate them all, probably.¡±

    Sally let Mark finish, and then she easily said, ¡°It might be the first incident of poaching. Kandon and the enforcers don¡¯t think it¡¯s poaching, either, though House Yarl, the owners of the plot, are accusing House Exatech, the supposed thieves, of being thieves. Kandon responded by sending everyone who wants to investigate out to investigate, in order to quell any possible discontent. He¡¯s making the full system open for anyone to see that all signs point to it not being poaching at all. If you want to believe that, anyway. I think it¡¯s poaching. It¡¯s completely plausible!¡± Sally said, ¡°You''ve seen some shady shit, too. I know you have.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Okay,¡± Mark said, ¡°Sometimes things are smuggled in and out through the docks and everyone looks the other way because it''s all under the Seal of Empire and other shit.¡±

    ¡°Ah ha! Yes. See! People are shit!¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°What? No!¡±

    Sally smirked and then added, ¡°But anyway... It¡¯s 10,000 points for a day trip to the woods, so a lot of people are taking the trip. I kinda want to take the trip just because I don¡¯t trust House Exatech at all.¡± Sally snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t trust any of them, actually.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t convinced it was poaching, and now he was even less sure. Sally had a problem with authority, too, but it was different from Mark¡¯s problem with authority. Hers was a much more general sense of unease.

    Sally clearly thought it was poaching, after all.

    ¡°There was no one in the brig with us, Sally. So the nobles aren¡¯t infighting¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh come on, Mark. Nobles gotta noble; they pull shit on each other all the time. Whatever this was, it¡¯s not gonna end as pretty as it did with you and Tartu¡ª And look at what you did with Tartu! House arrest. Of course they aren¡¯t in any brig. Brigs are for normal people. Scions get house arrest.¡±

    ¡­ Well, yeah.

    Mark could believe that.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Mark made a decision, ¡°Goblins or mini-kaiju; I¡¯m not getting involved in the poaching stuff.¡±

    Sally grinned. ¡°So you agree it could be poaching.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I said.¡±

    Sally snorted. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be the mini-kaiju then. Eliot does not want to do goblins, and I don¡¯t blame him. They¡¯re people, but they¡¯re pure fucking evil.¡± Sally shivered. ¡°Fucking¡­ terrible things.¡±

    ¡°You saw the video Eliot made of our first outing, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Sally shivered again. She took a sip of her beer, then said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna piss myself when Addavein shows up in pers¡­ in ¡®dragon¡¯.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s still a person. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s wrong to call him that? Just like the goblins are people¡­ Well. Probably not like goblins at all, actually.¡±

    A moment passed in companionable silence.

    And then Sally looked up at the sky. She looked left and right, and then waved one hand far to the side, like she was trying to figure out the size of something.

    Sally quietly asked, ¡°So¡­ How big is he, actually?¡±

    ¡°The size of the lake. Like a kilometer wide. They¡¯ve done measurements¡ª they do precise measurements on all known dragons. There¡¯s a database you can look at with all the known dragons, and Addavein is known¡­ But I haven¡¯t looked at his actual measurements.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t want to really know.

    Sally nervously chuckled. ¡°Me, either.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fucking terrifying, yeah,¡± Mark agreed. But he felt he could give some ballpark figures. ¡°So he¡¯s something like a kilometer wide. Or wider. His face is the size of a 4 story mansion¡­¡±

    Mark fell silent.

    Both of them stared at the lake ahead.

    Mark looked down, and felt a certain symmetry in what he was seeing. The edge of the lake was a retaining wall, with a meter drop down to the waters below. That edge was pretty much a straight line from Mark¡¯s perspective, left to right, for he was a very small human and the lake was a kilometer in diameter.

    Sally said, ¡°I hope he doesn¡¯t land in the lake. That¡¯d ruin the fishing.¡±

    Mark burst out laughing.

    Sally started chuckling.

    Eventually, none of the fish were hungry anymore and the sun had fully set.

    Mark finished off his beer and Sally did the same for her own, and then they got up.

    While Sally waited, Mark checked in with the fish house, with an old Farmer named Peter who was in control of the fishery.

    Peter cheerfully tapped away at his tablet, confirming Mark¡¯s presence and job completion, as he commented, ¡°You sure fed those fish well! They even stopped nipping at the feed drop! Great job. This is only your fourth time, yeah? You like it?¡±

    ¡°I like it a lot, actually.¡±

    ¡°Can you come by more often?¡±

    Mark smiled softly. ¡°I¡¯ll try to come by more often.¡±

    ¡°Love to hear it! More people need to help the Basic Program or it just doesn¡¯t work right. I know it¡¯s not as glamorous as privatization, but it does the most consistent good for the most amount of people, all the time.¡±

    Mark easily nodded. ¡°Yeah, it does.¡±

    Mark and Sally avoided the tram on their way home, opting for a walk on the road that went that way instead.

    It was a nice walk in the perpetual twilight of night. Cool air, the wind blowing through the grassy plains inside the settlement walls, grass waving, and a gentle silence. Peaceful. Settlement lights glowed in the castles of the main area up ahead, the seven towers of the main city all lit up here and there with squares of lights, while the tram station and other buildings were glowing glass sculptures, surrounded by more light. The Noble District was to the right, beyond the castles, and all around them the city walls had lights on, shining down inside the walls, showing that the walls were intact all around.

    It looked more like an empty city than a settlement in the wilds.

    The tram rumbled by, the lights shining in the windows, showing not a single person was on the tram but it was moving anyway. The servitor in the front simply held onto the controls and rode with the thing as it continued on its path toward the main station far ahead. Mark was pretty sure that the trams needed to be running, so that the settlement acted like a real settlement, for the purpose of Eliot¡¯s Castellan¡­

    Though Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    ¡°So,¡± Mark started, his voice breaking the comfortable silence of the walk, ¡°You and Eliot getting along? You¡¯ve been paired with each other almost all the time this last week¡­¡± He left it there.

    Sally winced. ¡°¡­ Well. He¡¯s a noble, and the builder of the whole place and¡­ and we¡¯re getting along.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t lying, but she wasn¡¯t telling the full truth.

    ¡°How¡¯s your plan to be a noble yourself going?¡±

    Sally went, ¡°Ha,¡± then she said, ¡°Not gonna happen for a long time. But¡­¡± She looked out across the open world. ¡°That guy back there, the Farmer. He said that thing about Basic work, and you¡¯ve been doing Basic at the airdock, but they need Basic workers for pretty much everything, and ¡®everything¡¯ also means ¡®manager of apartment complexes¡¯. But that¡¯s not really being a landlord and being responsible for people. It¡¯s close, but¡­¡± She fell silent.

    She was trying to explain something she didn¡¯t have the words for.

    Maybe she needed some help? Some direction?

    Mark offered, ¡°Eliot is going to start making real homes soon enough. Now that everything is settled and everyone is temporarily set, he¡¯s going to be selling housing for points.¡± There was a lot that Mark wasn¡¯t saying, from how there were subsidies of points from the army to whoever wanted to buy a private house, to rentals being an option for a much lower cost, to how Eliot was going to be getting a lot of points from people who bought from him, and a bunch of other things besides. Mark skipped over all of that, and said, ¡°You can do a rental thing, if you want to spend points making houses and then rent them out. Eliot would probably go in on that with you, too.¡±

    Sally rumbled, already knowing much of what Mark was saying, then she said, ¡°It is a morass of shit to get that sort of thing up and running¡­ and I don¡¯t really want to be a landlord, Mark. I just want respect. That¡¯s what that whole idea was all about. You can either be a noble and respected, or be a powerful Awakened and be respected for your deeds, and I already know I¡¯m never going to kill big kaiju like others¡­ So how the fuck do you get respect?

    ¡°I want to know everyone near my home, Mark. I want to be in their businesses and helping to make their businesses better. I want to know that the people around me are good people. Like if I see a guy on the street, I want to know why he¡¯s there, and what he¡¯s doing, and that he isn¡¯t hurting someone. I want safety, and I want to make other people safe.

    ¡°But how do you make sure that some noble can¡¯t fuck you over like what Tartu did to you? The answer is you can¡¯t.

    ¡°He got a slap on the wrist, Mark. A fucking slap on the wrist, for using the HVP to steal from you, and then you got a demerit and bitch work for having the gall to fight back?! I just hate it.

    ¡°I know it¡¯ll happen to me again.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t talking about Mark and Tartu at the end. She was talking about Arana, the girlfriend she had had to kill months ago, when the demon Leash possessed her, so that Sally didn¡¯t get possessed herself, while that noble asshole looked on, for he had orchestrated the whole thing as a way for Leash to get to Mark. That noble¡¯s name had been Alonkai Firesteel of House Firehearth, and Sally was still raging all these months later. Mark understood that feeling.

    Sally¡¯s eyes turned distant. ¡°I¡¯ll get fucked over by some noble again, and the people I love will die¡­ or maybe I¡¯ll die this time.¡± She breathed, and then she pulled back. It was like she had cracked open a box of horrors in her mind, her vector going everywhere, and then she pulled back, closing the lid once again. She said, ¡°Being close to you and Eliot is doing a lot to get me respect, but that¡¯s you and Eliot. Not me. I want people to look up to me.¡±

    For a moment, Mark almost teased her about how everyone looked up to her now that she was 8 feet tall, but this was serious, so he did not do that.

    Instead, Mark asked, ¡°You want to do the villain thing? I know you¡¯re signed up, but¡­ you and Eliot are both doing it because Isoko and I are. You want to do the villain thing for real? There¡¯s a lot of respect there, and the Church of Freyala already wants me to be an Inquisitor for them. I¡¯m sure the God of War and Murder would be fine with that sort of thing, right?¡±

    Sally frowned a little, looking at the ground. ¡°Aurora said not till March 20th¡ª¡±

    ¡°After, obviously.¡± Mark added, ¡°The Villain Program is all about taking up space and being a jerk and airing evils and people loving you for it. You¡¯re expected to be disruptive.¡± Mark said, ¡°If you want revenge against the society that made Alonkai Firesteel of House Firehearth, then being a popular Villain is a good way to get your message out there.¡±

    Sally¡¯s breath hitched at the mention of that name. Her step faltered a little. And then she walked straighter and taller, as she gazed out across the twilight land. Auroras danced in her eyes as she glared at nothing and everything.

    She said, ¡°Maybe I should do that, for real.¡±

    Mark grinned a little¡ª

    ¡°But come on! You haven¡¯t done shit in the Program anyway.¡± Sally rolled her eyes and tapped him on the shoulder with a big fist, saying, ¡°What¡¯s all this talk about ¡®airing evils¡¯, or whatever.¡±

    ¡°Hey now. I think I did a great job explaining to Tartu why he fucked up a lot.¡±

    Sally grinned, and then she full-blown smiled, showing off bright white teeth. ¡°Yeah you did. Eliot and I heard the techies in charge of the point system talking about changing shavallian to a higher point value in the alchemist¡¯s guild, and some stuff like that. Someone refused to sell some sort of essence to Tartu in the exchange, too.¡± She seemed absolutely mirthful as she said that. And then she added, ¡°You hear a lot being around Eliot.¡±

    ¡°Look at you, being all sneaky! Big sneaky giant!

    ¡°Look at you, being a villain. Just throwing shit out there as much as you want¡­¡± Sally looked forward, saying, ¡°You can do whatever you want and you get away with it...¡± She added, ¡°Mostly.¡±

    ¡°Mostly,¡± Mark agreed, and then he changed the subject, ¡°So! I still got paid doing Basic work, I have enough for a spellbreaker and I¡¯m thinking about getting one¡­¡±

    They shot the shit for the rest of the walk back to the apartment, and when they got back home Isoko took out a giant fakemeatloaf out of the oven, along with a bunch of vegetables out of a boiling pot on the top. It was soy, and it wasn¡¯t meat at all, but it tasted pretty good. A bunch of flavorings had gone into the notmeatloaf to make it great, but the vegetables were good with just butter and salt.

    Later, in bed, Mark had to put himself to sleep so he didn¡¯t lie awake all night.

    The next morning Isoko and Mark left for one final run through the sewers, but before that, the guys running the sewers were delighted to show off the new drones that some tinkerer had made. They were electro-prod drones that could scour the tunnels like in any real city, and they did the work of clearing out the slimes better than most any individual person could ever do. For their final day of sewer work, all Mark and Isoko had to do was walk behind the drones and purity/impurity the sewers as they went.

    They didn¡¯t need to even do that cleaning work, not technically, because the sewers were already built to be self-cleaning.

    It smelled better when they were cleaned out, though.

    The last day of Basic work went as all the others had gone; with work that never seemed to end. Piles of boxes from the settlement stacked up in warehouses, waiting to be packed into cargo hoverships, with more boxes being filled up every single day.

 164

    Mark walked into the war room of Castle South, with Isoko, Sally, and Eliot at his sides.

    The room was made for war operations, for techies and people capable of Communication magics, so it had screens and keyboards and readouts lining the walls, with multiple redundancies everywhere. Eliot had built the bones of the place, but a lot more than him had contributed to the space. Eliot had put in the big sensor systems, though, including the one in the middle of the room.

    A waist-high octagon of a holodisplay sat in the middle of the room, like a standing block of stone, while a similar waist-high ¡®stone¡¯ was on the ceiling, about 8 meters overhead. Walking into the war room was like walking into a cave with walls made of displays and with a giant illusion hanging in the air.

    Currently, the illusion in the center was an image of the mushroom mini-kaiju, as compared to a human, which was a good comparison for size and also shape. The thing looked like a mutated human, but about 25 meters tall. It was red, bulbous around the middle, and bipedal with two swinging arms. If it had a head it was hard to distinguish from thousands of child-sized mushrooms that grew off of the thing¡¯s ¡®shoulders¡¯ and ¡®neck¡¯.

    They called it ¡®Shroomer¡¯.

    ¡°Ah! There you are!¡± said Sam Ranger, hero name Nightbolt, who stood at the other side of a holo display. He walked around a little as he smiled and gestured up at the mini-kaiju, ¡°I love this machine, Eliot!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you do!¡± Eliot happily proclaimed.

    It was just Mark and them on the main floor of the war room, but there were a few other people at more important scanning stations up on the wings of the place. They were sitting next to machines and watching them, but also just chatting with each other.

    Those people took notice when they recognized Eliot¡¯s voice.

    One of those guys called out to Eliot, ¡°Eliot! Thank gods¡ª Section C is fritzing. Can you check it out?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Sure, Quentin!¡± And then he glanced around and walked over to what Mark assumed was section C, because the big screen over there had a slightly yellow image of the land beyond the walls, and Eliot was, of course, walking that way. With a flicker of his vector slipping into the walls, Eliot fixed the screens and then he paused. He hummed. Eliot turned back and said, ¡°Someone installed a relay system inside the do-not-cross lines. I don¡¯t know who did it, but¡ª¡± Eliot held out a hand and the floor opened up. A cubic glowing metal thingy floated into his hand, and Eliot closed off the floor again. ¡°These things are not allowed inside the do-not-cross lines.¡±

    The tech guys got mad, and disbelieving, and then there was a small conversation between them all while Eliot set the offending tech onto the top of the scanning machines¡ª

    The glowing robot-thingy grew some legs and then plugged itself into the scanner underneath itself.

    Everyone stared at the object.

    Quentin said, ¡°That¡¯s Deedee¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, Deedee¡¯s for sure,¡± said some other guy.

    ¡°It probably couldn¡¯t get a signal so it crawled inside and¡­¡±

    Their conversation continued and they started making calls, but no one was upset about the tech, now that it had been identified. Mark was kinda worried that there was some strange tech inside the walls, getting where it shouldn¡¯t have gotten, but from what he was seeing this incident seemed like a ¡®normal¡¯ breach of protocol. One they had gone through a bunch of times already.

    Eliot rejoined Mark, Isoko, and Sally, next to Sam Ranger of the Kaiju Kill Squad.

    ¡°Sorry, so, uh...¡± Eliot said, ¡°We¡¯re killing mushroom kaiju today?¡±

    Sam looked at the glowy cubic thing that was currently drilling into the scanner underneath it, which nobody seemed to really care about, and he asked, ¡°That¡¯s not a problem?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s so many Techy guys doing so much shit inside the walls like you would not believe. All of them want information, all the time. It¡¯s a warzone down there, but it¡¯s also pretty contained.¡± Eliot shrugged. ¡°Deedee will fix her bot and not do it again, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Everyone was worried but Eliot and the tech guys.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is that really how it¡¯s done?¡±

    ¡°Oh hell no,¡± Eliot said, ¡°Usually it¡¯s just one tinkerer¡¯s stuff in any one area. Maybe two or three all playing nice with each other. That¡¯s in established cities though, where territories are controlled and understood. We¡¯re in a settlement and everyone is worried about everything, so every techy is spying on every other techy. But we have the do-not-cross lines for reasons, so that the main security feeds aren¡¯t interrupted. There are lots of places to plug in besides there, so...¡± He waved a hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure Deedee will get a big talking to, and then it won¡¯t happen again until next month.¡±

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about that¡ª

    ¡°So! Shroomer,¡± Sam said, drawing attention back to him.

    There was a mini-kaiju to kill, and though they had all killed monsters together, this would be Mark¡¯s team¡¯s first big mission.

    That monster was 25 meters tall!

    Sam said, ¡°This bulbous, humanoid-shaped mini-kaiju here, which we are calling Shroomer, is the fruiting body of a mycelial colony.

    ¡°The mycelial colony is an actual kaiju, but only because it¡¯s a living thing that is as large as it is, and it is capable of acting in unison against certain threats. But the colony doesn¡¯t move, and it doesn¡¯t really do anything, but it does grow protectors, like Shroomer but much smaller.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be killing the colony.

    ¡°If you, Mark, connected to it you might severely injure it, or you could draw its full attention onto yourself. Don¡¯t expect to be able to kill it, but do expect it to try and kill you, if it can. Could be dangerous to connect to it, could be beneficial. Make the call yourself when you¡¯re out there. You won¡¯t be killing the colony, though, because the colony is what we call a kaijuvore.

    ¡°Like all mushrooms, but bigger, Shroomer is actually the reproductive organ of the colony. It¡¯s a lure that is bright, bright red, and that shimmers in a bunch of different color spectrums, all in order to draw the sights of any passing kaiju, in order to get eaten. Then, inside the kaiju, it releases its payload and either succeeds in colonizing the bigger monster, or it doesn¡¯t and it dies.

    ¡°Just like its main body, Shroomer won¡¯t bother attacking you or anything smaller than a kaiju because it doesn¡¯t care about small things. It wants to get eaten. Don¡¯t get it wrong: The fruiting body will try to infect you and devour you to keep itself alive while it searches for its real prey. But you¡¯re not its real prey, and Shroomer is still attached to the main colony, so it¡¯s getting fed through the colony. When it breaks free it will start to wander and probably pick up things to digest them, to keep itself strong as it walks across the land.

    ¡°Other than that! It¡¯s just a big bruiser.

    ¡°Nothing special to it except the size and the resilience.

    ¡°That¡¯s more than enough.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t take it down today then that¡¯s fine. It¡¯ll keep growing for about 15-20 more days.¡± Sam rolled a hand, adding, ¡°Yadda yadda, don¡¯t use fire or decay, because it will die fast to that magic and you¡¯re not here to just kill it, you¡¯re here for experience. That¡¯s it! 10,000 points to each of you if you can kill Shroomer here. Other teams have tried and they haven¡¯t managed to injure it and they also haven¡¯t managed to make Shroomer move. It will move if it senses a big enough threat, though.

    ¡°This is not a kill-it-quick quest.

    ¡°This is testing your readiness against kaiju-ish threats, where information isn¡¯t always easy to come by and fights need to happen fast.

    ¡°And that¡¯s about a good level of what the average person gets when it¡¯s time to fight, and sometimes not even that. Most of the time you¡¯ll get a 5 minute rush job, like this, and you¡¯ll be relied upon to know the monster you¡¯re fighting before you even get to it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen all sorts of mushroom monsters by now, so tell me what you think you¡¯ll encounter out there.¡± Sam looked to Sally. ¡°You first.¡±

    Sally instantly said, ¡°Skin-burrowing miasma attacks, hallucinogens both on the wind and touch-based, caustic substances, pure masses of flesh slamming into you. On the upside, I expect¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop there,¡± Sam said, ¡°Isoko.¡±

    Isoko picked up where Sally left off, saying, ¡°On the positive side, I expect physical slowness and lethargic reactions, and possibly a complete inability to directly see its targets, though it probably has proximity triggers everywhere. It won¡¯t be able to see us, but it will be able to sense us. If Sally and I keep in strong TT with the ground, it won¡¯t be able to sense any tremors in the ground.¡± She added, ¡°Though I doubt I will be on the ground on this one.¡±

    ¡°Correct; you won¡¯t be on the ground at all,¡± Sam said, ¡°Now Eliot. What are you doing?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Fallback support, rescue operations, and distractions. I¡¯m gonna have a mobile base spidering around. Isoko will be with me.¡±

    Isoko nodded.

    Sam asked Mark, ¡°And you? Are you ready for a fight?¡±

    Mark was fucking pumped.

    ¡°Sir yes sir!¡±

    Sam was amused, but he tried not to show it. ¡°And how will you fight?¡±

    ¡°Probably chopping at the legs first, trying to get the feet, if it even has any¡ª¡±

    Sally went, ¡°Oh! Fuck! That¡¯s why you were talking about cutting off Tartu¡¯s feet!¡±

    Eliot shared a look with Sally and just started laughing. ¡°It¡¯s a hobbling method!¡±

    ¡°Of course it is!¡± Sally said.

    Isoko just raised an eyebrow. ¡°Well yeah. I got that. You two didn¡¯t?¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Cutting the feet off is how you start taking down a kaiju¡­ Or hands first, I guess?¡± Mark looked to Sam. ¡°Shroomer doesn¡¯t have bones or muscles, right?¡±

    Sally muttered something about feeling dumb, while Eliot said something about how it all made sense now, right? Mark got the impression that the two of them had talked about Mark¡¯s feet-cutting threat a few times, trying to understand it. Maybe Mark would have said something to them, asking what had happened, but¡ª

    Sam was saying, ¡°It has some semblance of an internal structure, but it¡¯s more like a lattice than bones and muscles. Technically, it¡¯s not even a monster. It''s more of a seed. Anyway! Yes. Normal kaiju fights start at the legs, if it has them, but the general idea is to poke and hobble the kaiju to give yourselves more time to figure out the monster¡¯s tricks¡­¡± Sam breathed in, then stared, his voice full of seriousness, ¡°Only when you think you¡¯ve learned everything, OR, you¡¯re capable of simply deleting the monster, do you actually go for the kill. I cannot stress this enough. Do NOT go for a kill unless you know you can, because these bastards are always tougher than they look. Very few people in these two worlds can fight kaiju and win without worry. SO! Poke, prod, hobble, and above all, stay safe!¡±

    Mark, Isoko, Sally, and Eliot all announced together, ¡°Sir yes sir!¡±

 165

    The land was a low mushroom-infested forest of twisted trees of many colors, with white, gently curving spires jutting up here and there from greenery. Those spires were the bones of a giant kaiju. The bigger mushrooms among the normal-ish green trees were easy enough to see, for they looked like beach umbrellas poking up here and there. But there were smaller spots of color among the greenery, that were the proliferation of small, normal-sized mushrooms of all kinds.

    This was a land of fungal resources and defenders.

    ¡°This whole place is a goldleaf mine,¡± Eliot said, solidly emplaced in his seat in the middle of the vehicle, his voice strong on the team radio. ¡°Soon as we kill Shroomer the whole forest will open for harvesting.¡±

    Mark and Sally were in an airlock in the vehicle, holding onto a railing, both of them wearing their best armor and a few additions thanks to Eliot. Breathing masks, visual overlays, and sound devices for communication. Eliot, in his captain¡¯s chair, and Isoko, sitting in her pilot¡¯s chair, had their visuals and radios inside the cockpit.

    They were in a spider-like vehicle of Eliot¡¯s own making. It was sleek silver, with an abdomen that held everything Eliot would need to use for the fight, and it was based around a hovervan; not whatever trash Eliot could pick up off the streets like he had done in Rome. This one was not like that janky piece of shit.

    This one could walk without jumbling the occupants, fly and do aerial maneuvers, and most of all, burrow and slam the land and anything else that got in its way. In a pinch, it could be a fighting spider, but mostly it was a construction spider. Its pedipalps were big slammers that Isoko would use to break the ground or anything else, to make it ¡®man-made¡¯ for Eliot to use with his Power. That meant that Eliot could use Isoko¡¯s destruction to create automated turrets, but it also meant he could make ditches and tripping hazards and places for people to retreat to, or fight from. Mark was pretty sure Eliot had some Techies help him make certain parts of the vehicle, but, on the whole, the silver spider was Eliot¡¯s private castle.

    Isoko sat at the helm, saying, ¡°Shroomer ahead. Can you see it in the airlock?¡±

    The airlock¡¯s window was small, so a screen showed the monster up ahead. It was big. Bigger than anything Mark had ever fought before. It would move faster than any other monster he had ever battled, just because of its size.

    Mark¡¯s heart pounded hard, black lines extending into the air around him while his adamantium twitched on his forearms and legs. He could tell Sally felt the same way, both of them looking at the big red monster on the screen. It was like a bulbous humanoid, sitting down in a fetal position on the ground. Shaped kind of like an egg, too, with its mushy arms wrapped around its bulging legs, which it held against its malformed chest. All the upper half of the thing was covered in bright white and red mushrooms of all sorts of sizes.

    The colony was doing a lot of work here to make this thing sprout.

    All of the mushroom forest around the creature was gone, exposing the white layers of mycelium that dominated this land. There were also a few rocks and dirt.

    ¡°So we¡¯re sure that the colony below ground won¡¯t wake up?¡± Sally asked, as she glanced at Mark. ¡°Because I¡¯m worried about how much plants like Mark.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s voice came over their radios, and also from beyond the solid plastic wall separating them from the cockpit, ¡°The colony hasn¡¯t reacted to any of the other Union-users, except to grow toward them like any other plant-ish monster would.¡± He added, ¡°Though it¡¯s not a plant. It¡¯s more like a collection of slime monsters.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Oversight is above us in case we can¡¯t hack it, or in case we need a rescue. So do what you want, Mark!¡±

    Far overhead, Mark sensed more than saw the hovervan that held Sam Ranger and a few tech guys that Mark had only met once and kinda forgotten their names. One of the guys up there could shoot out grappling magitech like big hands that grabbed people and reeled them in, and he was on rescue duty the most. Mark tried to remember his name¡­ But it escaped him.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Mark said, ¡°I forgot the grapple guy¡¯s name.¡±

    ¡°Rick,¡± Eliot and Isoko said at the same time. And then Eliot continued, ¡°But we¡¯re not going to need that! We¡¯re gonna cripple Shroomer and then kill him, and we¡¯re 50 seconds from contact! Everyone sound off! Final check!¡±

    Sally had one giant sword today and her normal leathers, all of which she would be TT¡¯ing so that she remained strong in the face of whatever Shroomer threw at them. Skin was exposed here and there, because she needed to be exposed in order for Retribution to return that damage several times over. Shroomer¡¯s constant caustic damage should be really good for her effectiveness.

    Mark would be working a breath of purity on both of them so that any possible hallucinogenic contamination wouldn¡¯t happen, or at least it wouldn¡¯t last long when it did happen, so Sally was good to go.

    Mark was fully covered with black biohazard-type webweave, and with 5,200 grams of adamantium acting as bracers and greaves. He¡¯d turn his adamantium into caltrops and weapons and go for slices of the big guy when he could.

    Isoko and Eliot both wore full bio-hazard white webweave, though they were safely ensconced inside the spiderflier¡¯s cockpit. Their webweave was to follow proper protocol; they didn¡¯t expect to use it.

    Worst case scenario, with everyone injured and out in the open, was that Mark grabbed Sally and ran for it, since he could do that, and Isoko would grab Eliot and try to keep him safe as she ran, too. They¡¯d have to escape through the mushroom forest, which was filled with mushroom-shaped monsters that were small versions of Shroomer, but that was fine.

    They could do that.

    They wouldn¡¯t need to do that.

    They were taking down Shroomer and getting those points.

    Sally called out, ¡°Sally Wuthers, check!¡±

    Mark roared, ¡°Mark Careed, check!¡±

    ¡°Isoko Kanno, check!¡± Isoko said, though she chuckled a little bit as she spoke.

    ¡°And Eliot Cybersong, check!¡±

    The screen in front of Mark transformed from an image of Shroomer to a bunch of flowing lines and words, and then it resolved into a typical Weekly Showdown infographic, with the four of them as pixel-sized humans against the much larger red Shroomer. Eliot¡¯s face came on the image next, smiling for the camera, as he sent drones everywhere, throwing ten different angles of the arena, and then a bunch of angles on the silver spider and its occupants.

    Mark noticed a camera by the door, angled up at him. He waved a little.

    Eliot gave a rapid rundown of the expected capabilities of Shroomer, while a countdown flickered in the corner of the screen.

    Mark focused on the countdown, breathing, relaxing, and then he strengthened his Union with his team and the world.

    Sally¡¯s skin flickered gold with Retribution tingles as she shook out her shoulders, limbering up.

    Isoko flickered platinum, and then her white webweave went back to white.

    Eliot¡¯s voice strengthened, and Mark listened again, as Eliot said, ¡°¡ª10,000 points! Which is the base return for this monster raid. If we can take it down without much damage we might get as much as 55k a piece! But that¡¯s a crazy thing to do, to focus on. Killing the monster comes first! So come on and say it with me! You know the words! Shout ¡®em loud and strong!¡±

    They shouted together, ¡°Death to all monsters!¡±

    And then the airlock slammed open.

    Mark launched himself out of the vehicle, unaware of the height. Sally was right behind him.

    They were 300 meters above the battlezone and Mark¡¯s stomach whirled but then he transformed some of his adamantium into a hand, and took Sally¡¯s hand in his own metal one. She gripped tight and Mark held loosely as he threw a ribbon of black into the air above them.

    The world whistled by as Shroomer sat far below; a 25 meter tall monster in the middle of a hundred-ish meter radius of cleared land. It was seated, so it wasn¡¯t that big right now. It was still a massive red pustule among the white mycelium. It was further dotted with white and red mushroom caps all across where its head should have been, and its shoulders.

    Mark guided their fall, just barely, just a little, to the side, and then he threw open the ribbon overhead, catching the air on a flash-made parachute. He grunted as the weight of it all yanked at him in two directions at once, his astral arms pulled hard.

    Sally landed first on the mycelium mat a good 30 meters from Shroomer. Mark landed a few meters away.

    The land was incredibly soft. Mark had thought it was just a few inches of white, but the mat was deceptively thick. All of the boulders and dirt here were little more than leftovers from a massive upheaval of the underlying colony.

    Sally stuck her landing, but she sank into the monster anyway. Instantly, her skin began to glow gold and the mycelium mat began to splatter all around, its attempts to harm her ending in harm done to itself.

    Mark slammed into the colony with a Union of adamant and weakness¡ª

    ¡°Holy FUCK.¡±

    It was like a coffee high and an adrenaline rush at the same time. Connecting to the mycelium mat, to the colony, was like connecting to a whole other world, on top of the world all around them. The colony was strong, and it was already fully connected to itself, and Mark felt way too much, all too fast.

    Sally jerked as she shared in Mark¡¯s strength¡ª

    There had been no vector to the colony. There had been no vector to Shroomer. And then, the seated mound of red flesh ahead, suddenly knew Mark was there. The very land underneath Mark and Sally knew he was there. It was like standing on top of a kaiju, which is exactly what it was.

    A billion eyes focused as one, onto Mark.

    Mark instantly cut his Union to the colony and it was like severing a billion threads all at once. The vector of the colony slammed outward in every direction and the mycelium mat began to flex and heave, trying to figure out whatever had touched it. The colony burbled, and white bubbles popped here and there, sending plumes of red spores and gasses into the air. Miasma spread, and Sally¡¯s golden glow intensified.

    Mark widened his footprint with his adamantium, holding himself above the mass of flexing white threads, and he slammed his Union into Shroomer, instead. He hit the red mini-kaiju with weakness while he took adamant in turn. That felt okay.

    Not like connecting to another whole spectrum of reality; just connecting to a big monster. That action resulted in a much more normal reaction from just the mini-kaiju. Shroomer simply sensed Mark¡¯s general direction, and it began to unfold its arms from its legs.

    As far as Mark could tell, the mini-kaiju had a circulatory system and respiration, and some sort of electrical brain signaling, too, but the particulars of it were all different from normal. It had no real lungs; it respired anyway, like a plant. It had no real veins; it moved fluids and chemicals around its body anyway. It had no brain; but it did have a stimulus response thing going on, and currently it was responding to Mark¡¯s stimulus.

    Connecting to the mini-kaiju did not seem to connect Mark and Sally to the real monster underground, because that¡¯s what the vectors were telling Mark, and the mycelium mat underfoot was already calming back down. Its first big release of toxins and spores was already over, and the colony¡¯s billion-eye vector was already closing over again, the vectors of the colony quieting, returning inward.

    All of that only took seconds to understand.

    Mark tried to be succinct as he said, ¡°Connection to Shroomer established. Connecting to the big kaiju seems ill advised at this time, but it¡¯s calming down already. There¡¯s a link between Shroomer and the colony, but it¡¯s not one I¡¯m touching upon much at all. The colony knows Shroomer is active, and that¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Sally said, after listening to Mark and making her own judgments, and now she was attempting to pull herself up and out of the mycelium mat. She wasn¡¯t able to get very far. She was stuck up to her waist. ¡°There¡¯s ground under here, but the colony won¡¯t let me stand on it like I should. It¡¯s alive, and its astral body interferes with my own.¡± She tried to pull out of it, but she kept sinking down to her waist, so she stopped struggling and just stood there. ¡°Within expectations.¡±

    Mark asked her, ¡°You good?¡±

    Sally nodded.

    Mark trusted her.

    Eliot spoke, ¡°The main colony hasn¡¯t reacted like that to other Union-users.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t connect to it again, Mark,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°Not planning on it,¡± Mark said, as he floated forward, churning up the mat with his adamantium caltrops that were more like blenders right now. It worked well enough. Mark was pretty sure there were some deep holes in the ground here and there. Sally shouldn¡¯t be sinking that far. Mark should be hitting ground under there, but he wasn¡¯t. ¡°Eliot. Update scanners for big holes in the ground.¡±

    ¡°Already on it!¡± Eliot said. ¡°One moment!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t want to fall in,¡± Sally agreed, staring up at the monster ahead.

    Shroomer was slow.

    It was reaching for them, too, but it wasn¡¯t crossing the distance.

    Its arms were only 15 meters long, so standing 30 meters away was enough to keep Mark and Sally out of Shroomer¡¯s range. Still, though, when the monster reached for them with room-sized hands, covered with pulsing red veins, Mark and Sally both tensed, both of them ready to split and race in opposite directi¡ª

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Penetrating scanners online. Updating overlay.¡±

    Mark¡¯s visor updated and now he could see the faint outline of land beneath the mycelium mat. This area had been a rolling set of hills and one small lake before the colony overtook the land. The lake was beyond Shroomer, right now, so unless they circled around completely they¡¯d always have a layer of ground close enough to the surface to reach.

    ¡­ Mostly close enough.

    ¡°Ground over there,¡± Mark said, looking left.

    Sally looked left and started headed that way, saying, ¡°I see it now.¡±

    She plowed forward, breaking the mat wherever she walked, and the colony didn¡¯t seem to care. The colony didn¡¯t seem to care that Mark was breaking it up with his adamantium blender/caltrops, either.

    And, Shroomer couldn¡¯t reach them here. Its knobbly big red hands swiped the air like giant, knobbly paddles. It didn¡¯t care to stand, and it didn¡¯t care to stretch. If Mark and Sally weren¡¯t close enough then it wouldn¡¯t reach any further than it already could¡­ Mark did notice one thing, though. One thing among many.

    ¡°It¡¯s reaching for me,¡± Mark said. ¡°I have its attention.¡± Sally was headed left, to the part of the land that was close to the surface of the mycelium mat, so Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll go right and keep it occupied. I¡¯m gonna cut off some fingers.¡±

    The giant hand moved in front of Mark, several meters away, as Mark moved to the right and Sally went left. The only sound was the sound of air moving and Mark¡¯s blenders holding him above the deeper parts of the colony. Shroomer didn¡¯t speak, and the land around them was dead from poison and the all-consuming white mat. No bird or bug sounds. No monster sounds at all.

    Sally pulled out of the mat, stepping onto a higher stretch of land, and soon she was only ankle deep and moving a lot better.

    Silent Shroomer was still waving at Mark, trying to touch him with its bulbous red hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s too fucking silent,¡± Sally said, and then she added, ¡°Can I get a range estimate on its attacks, Eliot? Like a red line on the viso¡ª yup! Thanks!¡±

    Red areas appeared on Mark¡¯s screen, too.

    ¡°Don¡¯t trust it,¡± Eliot said, ¡°Shroomer could grow fast, and it¡¯s still sitting down. It could hit far outside of the red zone.¡±

    It probably wouldn¡¯t, though, according to what Mark was seeing.

    While Sally tore across the mycelium covered ground like a woman running in frothing surf, Mark stood his ground about 5 meters in front of Shroomer¡¯s grabbing hand. It wasn¡¯t even a coordinated grab. One hand wooshed this way and that, while Shroomer¡¯s other, further hand wasn¡¯t even reaching this way at all; he was holding onto the mycelium mat, as though it was supporting its own weight.

    The monster swished its massive hand in front of Mark, missing him by multiple meters. It sounded like death passing by, or like the breeze from a train. Mark had seen and felt a lot worse, but the sound and air pressure still got to him, his heart beating hard, his mind racing. Focusing.

    The fight probably wouldn¡¯t start until Mark and Sally started it. Oh, sure, the air was full of caustic poison and Sally was fully golden with Retribution and the mycelium mat flexed and pulsed under Mark, as he held himself up with his cutting adamantium, but the monster remained seated. It wasn¡¯t going anywhere, and the colony didn¡¯t care.

    According to the previous teams attempting this fight, they hadn¡¯t even managed to make Shroomer move from his spot.

    So Mark asked, ¡°Sally! You need snowshoes?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s trying to grab my legs,¡± Sally said, almost calmly. ¡°Shoes would just give it more to grab onto.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Mark simply said. They had spoken about snowshoes of some kind for both of them before they dropped, but Mark didn¡¯t need them and Sally apparently didn¡¯t either. But that was Sally¡¯s burden to think about. As Shroomer¡¯s hand passed in front of him again, the mycelium mat rippled in its passing, and Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna start cutting.¡±

    The hand was the size of a room. Each finger was big enough to kill all on its own, if Mark wasn¡¯t fast enough, if he wasn¡¯t strong enough, solid enough.

    Mark¡¯s heart beat hard with Union as he shaped nearly half of his adamantium into a long razor. Two meters long and less than a finger¡¯s width, the weapon was more of a curved line of black hovering in the air than it was a sword, or any other sort of real weapon. It was better than any singular weapon.

    It was all of them.

    Mark breathed out, connecting in a dance with Shroomer, and then he slipped forward, black lines beating in the air, into Shroomer¡¯s astral body, taking everything from him and making it Mark¡¯s own. Shroomer noticed the drain, but it could not stop Mark¡¯s Union. It could only wave at him. Like a summer gust, hot air waved at Mark, along with that bright red hand.

    Mark did not need to actively cut Shroomer. He just needed to hold still and let the monster cut itself.

    He lifted his weapon forward and held¡ª

    Thock!

    The sound of two solid things colliding vibrated the air.

    Mark pulled back instantly, because he saw many things happen at once.

    For starters, his blade was too thick; it had cut, but not deep, and the density of the monster¡¯s surrounding flesh had deflected the majority of his blade. Also, the vector of the monster focused on Mark, and Shroomer lifted its other hand off of the mycelium mat, so the threat was doubling now, because Shroomer did not like the damage Mark had done. Instantly after the cut a keening filled the air, low and slow, but rapidly filling the world with a deep, rumbling vibration, as Shroomer reached out with both hands, red splatters slapping onto the white ground everywhere it moved its wounded hand.

    Where the splatters touched the mycelium mat focused, rapidly gaining a vector on those drops of Shroomer¡¯s blood. The red flowed down into the mat, and then the white ribbons and mucus began to boil, ballooning here and there. Not a second later the white bubbles popped with red spores.

    Mark dashed away, heart pumping hard as he reshaped his weapon, making it thinner and longer.

    Sally watched from 40 meters away, her voice coming through the mic, ¡°Tough skin, huh?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s fucking bone or some shit all throughout the whole thing!¡± Mark said, slowing down as he got far, far out of reach of Shroomer. The monster slapped the mycelium mat well outside of its previous red-zone that Eliot had marked on the visor. The red-zone updated. ¡°My blade was too thick so the density of flesh caught the blade. Some monsters do that; they flex their skin and catch swords in their flesh.¡±

    ¡°Fuck¡­ That doesn¡¯t give me much hope,¡± Sally said, holding up her thick sword. ¡°Dammit.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s voice came through, ¡°The extremities are reinforced to allow Shroomer to stand and walk. It¡¯s not a real kaiju with the magic of fuck-you-physics. It¡¯s supporting its own weight. Most of the interior is hollow with the spore payload. But the extremities are extra tough. I think Mark got unlucky with a knuckle crushing down on his sword, too, but that is unclear on the footage.¡±

    Mark glanced to the side and saw the silver spider slamming into the ground in the distance. Isoko was at the controls, pounding the land with fire and metal, and then she planted a spike of sensors into the hole. A few other sensor systems were already up and active elsewhere, in other burned-yet-regrowing sections of the mycelium mat.

    Mark and Sally had gotten into position, but Eliot and Isoko had been working, too¡ª

    Mark¡¯s visor updated. Now Mark was seeing exactly what Eliot had seen. The red humanoid monster had bones and solid things stretched throughout its arms and legs, and something in its chest and body that was similar in nature to bones, but not quite. The belly was a weak point, but only because it bulged out a whole lot, because Shroomer¡¯s insides were filled with big mycelial sacs.

    Isoko spoke up, ¡°Looks like Shroomer has bones but also an internal exoskeleton.¡±

    ¡°Lots of weak spots, but none on the arms or legs,¡± Sally said. ¡°Mark, you got the legs and arms?¡±

    Mark felt good about this, about what he was about to do.

    ¡°I got it.¡±

    Mark flew across the mycelium mat, twisting his adamantium caltrops and dancing into the monster¡¯s swipe of its hand. Right underneath!

    It was the most dangerous thing Mark had ever done.

    And then he was inside Shroomer¡¯s reach, and then he was a blade, carving upward at the swiping hand, at the forearm. He kept his cut shallow, trying to go for security of the cut more than uncertain depth. It wasn¡¯t cutting deep.

    Mark danced away, outside of Shroomer¡¯s reach.

    It was not a fast monster; not yet.

    Dribbles of red slime slapped into the white colony underneath and the colony boiled with red plumes as Mark ducked away from the grasping hands of Shroomer, and then he was on the other side of the hand. The thing didn¡¯t have jointed bones like a person, though, so it did not move like a person. Its hand bent backward, the fingers curling in the other direction as it rapidly shifted course, as quick as it could.

    Mark flashed his blade into four claws and raked it across the closing hands, the blades carving deep into the flesh, and then catching. Not stuck, but held tight by tensing flesh. Mark was held, even though the hand was still meters away and closing fast.

    For a moment, time seemed to pause.

    And then Mark fell into the flow, in a way he hadn¡¯t experienced in a while.

    He thinned his blades, like he was squeezing through a gap, for the metal was a part of his body, and always had been. The monster¡¯s aura pressed at Mark, but that was fine. He pulled his metal away and he was free.

    Mark was still going to get grabbed.

    Instead, he grabbed first, throwing his caltrops into the monster¡¯s forearm. With a sudden change in trajectory, Mark slipped his caltrops from the mycelium mat and grabbed onto Shroomer¡¯s wrist, yanking himself up and around, and away from the hand.

    Mark held onto the forearm of Shroomer with half of his metal while he sliced backward with the other half, ripping up the red arm.

    Riding monsters usually gave a thrill, but Mark was in the flow and focused.

    Shroomer rumbled, pulling his forearm back, with Mark still on top of it. His other hand appeared above Mark and Mark was about to meet the fate of many mosquitoes, but Mark twisted adamantium into a line of buzzsaw teeth and he wrapped around the arm underneath. He threw his body off the side of the forearm and held on, Shroomer¡¯s second hand slapping himself like two whales crashing into each other, as Mark carved deep with his line of wire, while he also pulled himself forward with his caltrops, embedded into the flesh of the beast.

    Mark was hooked on and he wasn¡¯t letting go.

    Shroomer rumbled, discontent, in pain, as it shook its hand wildly, trying to dislodge Mark, to slam him to the ground. Up, down, up, the arm went around. Shroomer slapped itself again but Mark was on the other side of the arm, sliding away as he wrapped his bladed string around the forearm like a garrote. Not-blood spurted everywhere and Mark turned his string into something thinner still, connected to his body by a thread of Adamantiumkinesis.

    He had never managed to make monowire, and that fact still held true now, but Mark got damned close.

    Shroomer¡¯s head and shoulders of mushrooms all flared open, filling the world with a sound of pain, and brilliant red spores.

    Mark pulled his thread behind him as he raced away from the oncoming rush of red. Pulling on that black thread was like unzipping a bag of gore. Red spilled everywhere and Shroomer screamed and threw its arm up and Mark raced up and away, whipping his metal away from the monster and forming some glider wings.

    Mark was free from Shroomer before he realized he was free.

    For the briefest of moments Mark was airborne and floating away from Shroomer, 50 meters up from the ground. And then he caught the wind as the wind burned red and billowing, drops of Shroomer¡¯s not-blood scattering everywhere. Mark hadn¡¯t cut off any fingers or its arm at all, but he had done a lot of damage.

    Bulgy red flesh sloughed off of Shroomer¡¯s arms, revealing carved white bone underneath¡ª

    Broken flesh fell to the ground and the ground exploded in red spores¡ª

    The colony flickered to full life again, its vector slamming into the seated Shroomer, and Shroomer expanded. Its chest doubled in size. Its head and shoulders of shrooms multiplied, the white and red caps widening like a forest of umbrellas, and then they desiccated and a single cap rose from the center, like a protruding growth that did not expand at all. It just bulged in the center, white, and then weeping red goo.

    The thing was 25 meters tall when standing, and it suddenly gained all of that height and more as it stood, shooting up out of its own cloud and dragging the cloud behind, its two legs thickening with strength, veined with the white mycelium mat. The legs distended with rigidity, and then Shroomer¡¯s head turned toward Mark, angling just slightly, red ooze clearing from the holes in its white head, revealing eyes beneath the red.

    Ah.

    Eyes, staring.

    Death desired.

    Mark glided away, and he felt weird. Where were his people?

    Sally was running away down below.

    Eliot was coordinating with ten different pillars he and Isoko had planted in the surrounding land, and most of those pillars were shooting water or some substance into the air, killing Shroomer¡¯s miasma and creating clear spaces. Some of those sprayers were not working.

    Isoko piloted the silver spider in the sky, at the far edge of the mycelium mat, where Sally was running.

    They were safe.

    Time to reevaluate the fight.

 166

    Mark broke the flow of battle, disconnecting from Shroomer¡ª

    Suddenly the world was smaller. Mark had heard the team talking to each other while he was out there, fighting, but now Sam Ranger was in on the conversation.

    ¡°¡­ climbing to Body 85,¡± Sam said, his voice calm and even, ¡°Everything else is at 65 and expected to settle higher; maybe 75. It¡¯s a mini-kaiju, after all.¡±

    Eliot, with a voice less calm, asked, ¡°Why did its PL shoot up that fast?¡±

    Mark landed on the white ground far from Shroomer, asking, ¡°It was at 65 in every category, right? It felt a lot tougher than 65.¡±

    ¡°Mark is back,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°I never left,¡± Mark said, ¡°I was busy.¡±

    Isoko rumbled, ¡°I guess?¡±

    Sam and his oversight team were high above them; a silver dot against the auroras. His voice was clear in Mark¡¯s coms, though. ¡°You¡¯re still cleared to fight it. It¡¯s still worth 10k points. It just advanced in its life cycle all the way to the end, to its bipedal form. Soon it will detach from the ground and start walking.¡±

    Mark looked out across the white land and the red mist, at Shroomer standing there at its full height, eyes bleeding from its bulbous head¡­ It kinda wobbled, looking this way and that. It seemed blind again. Mark had disconnected from it, so yeah, it didn¡¯t know where he was anymore? Maybe not.

    Mark asked, ¡°Those are fake eyes on its head?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°They¡¯re fake; yeah. Already tested. Still testing, actually.¡±

    The small towers that Eliot and Isoko had put up were flashing with lights in some sort of pattern. Well. Not a pattern, Mark guessed. Just flickering here and then flickering there, trying to see if Shroomer responded. It did not.

    Sally stood beside the silver spider about 100 meters away from Mark, looking at the same things he was looking at. ¡°So, Mark. You went all in. I did not think you were going all in. Those hands are double jointed. They almost got you.¡± That was an admonishment, but trying not to be.

    Mark skipped to the end of that conversation, ¡°Yup. It was dumb. I went for it anyway.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in a fight,¡± Eliot said, as though that explained everything. It kinda did. And then Eliot spoke about something else, ¡°I have flamethrowers on standby in case we need to press the big button and end the fight, but we shouldn¡¯t need to do that. The acid misters are working well against the miasma, and Sally has reported too much damage from the miasma, so I¡¯m going to get rid of that.¡±

    ¡°Ah, good,¡± Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s why I escaped, yes.¡±

    His suit was going to be ruined after today, he could already tell.

    ¡°Yup,¡± Eliot said, ¡°So I¡¯m deploying some acid drones as we speak. With this action I¡¯m 75% tapped for resources. The miasma is tougher to combat than I thought it would be.¡±

    Balloon-drones lifted off of the back of the silver spider and spread into the sky, each of them carrying a payload in a different, smaller balloon, held below the larger one. It was a good time for a short break, so Mark just stood there, watching. The drones took 30 seconds to get where they had to go, but when they were in position they started spraying over Shroomer. Mark couldn¡¯t see the spray, for it was too fine, but he could tell the effect instantly.

    Shroomer was covered in a red cloud, and then, it began to appear.

    The red cloud settled down like someone had run fingers through the miasma, erasing it, and then splashing on the ground below. Yellowish gases rose from the downed red spores and the acid spread, eating and eating, breaking up the mycelium mat.

    Shroomer smoked a little, its wounds aggravating under the mist, but it did nothing and the acid did nothing to it in turn. But the acid did break the white veins snaking up Shroomer¡¯s red legs, and that certainly did something.

    Shroomer suddenly lurched, going from straight and observant, to hunched, with its arms reaching all the way to the ground. Its arms might have even gotten longer; Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    The mycelium mat, the colony underneath the ground, reconnected to Shroomer for a little bit, in a very strong way. Shroomer bulged one last time, its back erupting in a series of white spikes. Red wounds opened up on all of those spikes. Shroomer¡¯s legs bent, and then it lifted a leg, teetering just a bit, like an unbalanced baby, before it smashed back down into the ground, standing sturdy once again.

    It walked, and it was not a fast walk at all.

    Ah.

    It was fully developed now. This, then, was its end-stage form. It was ready to be eaten by a kaiju, and it let all the world know that fact in one unmistakable way.

    It keened.

    The red holes inside of its spikes and its head opened up and wind passed through, filling the world with a droning sound that shook Mark to his very core. Mark gasped. He shuddered. He would never forget that sound as long as he lived, for it was a sound he had heard a few times already. It was a deep sound.

    The terrible noise of a kaiju.

    Mark had a weird reaction.

    He knew he was having a weird reaction as he had the reaction, but he couldn¡¯t really stop himself from feeling how he felt. It was as though he was outside of his body looking in, for just the briefest of moments. For long enough.

    It was weird.

    Sally said something about, ¡°Fuck. Did we fail, or succeed?¡±

    Sam said something about, ¡°That''s a mixed bag. It should never have walked, but the combined threat managed to spur the colony to pump up the growth in hopes of being eaten by a kaiju, and that very well could happen. That sound is going to attract another kaiju now, so the kaiju kill squad is taking it down before it does. Clear the area.¡±

    Isoko¡¯s voice was clearly indignant as she asked, ¡°So it was a failure state for us to try and get the thing to move at all?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still getting your points, Isoko,¡± Sam might have said, but Mark wasn¡¯t really sure, ¡°But now this thing has some kaiju quality mana crystals inside of it, and I will be taking it down to save those crystals, and prevent it calling a kaiju to our location. Clear the area. That means you, too, Mark!¡±

    ¡°Uh, Mark?¡± Eliot asked, ¡°It¡¯s headed straight for you¡­ I don¡¯t think Shroomer can see him, though?¡±

    Isoko¡¯s voice was saying, ¡°Check if it grew real eyes¡ª¡±

    ¡°The eyes in front are real now!¡± Eliot announced. ¡°Mark! Get out there! ¡­ Mark! What the fuck is¡ª¡±

    Mark was in the flow again. He recognized it now. The sound of a real kaiju had broken a small barrier inside of himself, turning the natural desire to flee or freeze into the ultimate desire to fight. To erase the threat.

    To kill the terror.

    Mark felt his adamantium turn into claws, held in an easy grip, like a bunch of daggers.

    Mark launched himself off of the ground and flowed forward on the wind, racing on his gliding wings as he clawed at the acidic ground, yellow clouds burning the air before him. He pulled faster and faster at the acid-covered stone underneath as Shroomer stared down at him from on high, still hunched over but seeming larger by several meters.

    It reached for Mark.

    Mark yanked at the ground, twisting fast, connecting to the monster in a burst of Union and then he put on real speed. Mark flew up, sending his caltrops directly at Shroomer, to grab Shroomer¡¯s reaching arm and then gripping deep enough to hold, but not too deep. Shroomer had an astral body that tried to fend off Mark, but Mark was adamant personified, and he gripped mere centimeters into the creature¡¯s body, and Shroomer could do nothing against that.

    And then Mark was in.

    He danced around Shroomer¡¯s slow body, moving around and across the arm and then up. Shroomer tried to slap, but he could not slap. Mark ripped as he flew, ten hands of metal gripping tight, like he was a spider himself, and then he was up at Shroomer¡¯s back, among the keening shrooms, each of them like stretched white garlands over invisible Christmas trees, with eyes ringed around the base of every protuberance. Red oozed from the eyes, and the eyes stared at Mark.

    They were real eyes this time.

    The vector of the monster flickered this way and that, like a sea of thoughts pointed in multiple directions at once, but also straight at Mark. Mark felt the hand coming from behind, so he moved forward, into the forest of singing shrooms on Shroomer¡¯s back.

    The sound itself would have killed Mark if his Body was normal, but he was soaking in the Power Levels from Shroomer, and he was more than capable of surviving a simple sonic attack. His gear was not. His gear cracked.

    The hand followed Mark into the forest of shrooms, crashing through the ¡®trees¡¯, tree eyes locked on Mark, the hand slapping against the whistling grove, damaging the noise and the weeping red eyes.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing as he escaped the forest of sound, zigging and zagging and slamming his caltrops onto the monster''s back, holding him where he needed to be, but then he looked back and saw the monster¡¯s arm tangled in its own forest. Instantly, Mark turned and attacked, wrapping a line of black around the monster¡¯s wrist. He hadn¡¯t been able to get a good grip, a good angle, but he had all of that and more at this particular moment, so Mark turned his line of black into a bandsaw. He spun that bandsaw around himself, around the wrist of the monster, and not-blood flowed hard, getting everywhere.

    Shroomer screamed, a whistling note among the sound of a keening kaiju.

    It pulled away, and Mark almost went with it, but he let go, breaking the black bandsaw before he got torn away instead. He had almost cut off the hand. The wrist held on with nothing more than a few sticks of white, beneath the red.

    Shroomer attacked with the same arm again, but Mark saw it coming¡ª

    The arm slammed into Shroomer¡¯s own back and the hand broke off and went flying in a random, unpredictable direction, right into one of Mark¡¯s caltrops. The caltrop went flying and Mark almost went with it, pulled along by the extra mass stuck around his weapon. It was like getting his knees kicked out from under him. A thousand kilos of hand went skidding off the side of Shroomer, and Mark let his adamantium go with it.

    He¡¯d get it back later.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Shroomer¡¯s vector turned wild. Hateful. It leaned back and screamed and Mark held on as the world went vertical. Shroomer tried to slam its broken wrist into Mark while he used its other hand to reach and grab, and Mark danced around to Shroomer¡¯s underbelly.

    It was softer there, and bulging.

    Mark turned his bandsaw of adamantium into a blade five meters long, and then, like a surgeon, he made a slice across the belly, keeping his adamantium under firm control. Not too deep. Don¡¯t risk losing the weapon itself inside of Shroomer¡¯s astral body. Just enough. Slice! Slice! Slice!

    Here came the broken wrist, and then there was the full hand, both aiming for Mark from two different angles.

    Mark saw all the angles of attack long before the attack reached him.

    He zipped downward, to Shroomer¡¯s thick legs, slicing a line of pain as he went, like dragging a monowire behind himself, curling into the flesh. The legs were thick with muscle and not built like humanoid legs at all. They had scales to them, too. No joints to cut. No veins to crack open and make the monster bleed out.

    A Union of adamant and weakness pulled doubletime in the beating of Mark¡¯s heart and the dance of electrical signals in the brain. It was more than enough to keep Mark in the wild fight, and it was enough to weaken Shroomer¡¯s flesh enough for Mark to cut.

    He breathed purity to keep the miasma off of himself, but soon he¡¯d be needing to heal himself¡­ more than he already was. His suit was holey and his flesh stung, but his body was strong and his armor was doing enough¡ª

    Shroomer¡¯s arms reached for Mark, the broken forearm stabbing while the hand grabbed.

    Mark flowed up, getting out of range again¡ª

    Sally was down below.

    Mark didn¡¯t see her so much as sense her, and then he connected to her, and Sally sang in his Union like a harmony of Retribution. The air glittered gold somewhere down below, by Shroomer¡¯s legs, and Mark heard the striking of metal on flesh, but he was already up on Shroomer¡¯s back. Sally was working. Mark would work, too.

    Shroomer came for him again and Mark slipped up and Shroomer¡¯s remaining hand went too far south.

    It was a target.

    Caltrops splashed into bandsaws like twisting spiderwebs and then they came together into a full line of cutting black, already wrapped around Shroomer¡¯s wrist.

    Mark pulled.

    Shroomer lost another hand, and this time it was a clean cut.

    Mark was getting better at this.

    Almost preternaturally, he looked at the oozing red shrooms on Shroomer¡¯s back, and he leapt away, speaking through the coms for the first time in 10 minutes.

    ¡°Get away.¡±

    Mark twisted his adamantium into wings and glided away, putting on some speed with a flap and then a steeper angle.

    Sally made one final hack at the monster¡¯s right leg, leaving behind one nasty looking wound, and then she looked up and saw Mark gliding away.

    She booked it.

    Just in time.

    Shroomer roared and its wounded leg wobbled, but it remained standing. And then Shroomer went fucking wild.

    It slammed the ground with its arms, moving easily twice the speed it went before. It roared. It jumped and tried to attack whatever had been injuring its leg, but Sally was already gone, and then it broke its leg where Sally had injured it. It turned to face Mark, still gliding away in the air, and then it raced after him, reaching with its handless arms, all of it hobbling and slapping the ground as it went for Mark.

    Mark couldn¡¯t actually fly.

    Shroomer was almost there.

    But Isoko and the silver spider got there first.

    Mark reached up and grabbed the spider¡¯s leg, yanking himself out of Shroomer¡¯s path, as Isoko hauled ass into the air.

    Shroomer reached upward, trying to get to Mark.

    Mark glared down at the monster, and watched as it reached too far.

    Shroomer¡¯s belly opened up completely, the wounds Mark had caused finally giving way. Its insides fell outward, like so many spilled guts, but it was all white, lumpy, car-sized ¡®seeds¡¯ covered in red gore. The eggs went everywhere, slipping across the regrowing mycelium mat.

    Shroomer¡¯s shrooms on its back began to falter and die as its insides fully fell out.

    Mark¡¯s visor was finally melting too much to see through so he reached up and pulled it off, revealing the clear, unobstructed sight of his kill. His armor was already breaking in small ways, but his adamantium was strong, and his grip on the leg of the silver spider was good and strong, too. Shroomer was still barely alive, for Mark was still connected to it, but it was dying faster and faster. He kept the Union going for now, connecting to Isoko¡¯s Union, and to the further world beyond, taking everything he could from Shroomer to make it die to its wounds even quicker.

    Mark was in the flow¡­

    And then the flow hitched.

    Mark breathed easy in the clear air, and then he said, ¡°Let¡¯s go pick up Sally.¡±

    ¡°Holy fuck, Mark,¡± Eliot softly exclaimed.

    ¡°Come inside,¡± Isoko said. ¡°There are board shorts in the airlock and a new phone for Quark.¡±

    ¡°You really just went for it, didn¡¯t you,¡± Sally said, from on the ground way, way over there.

    Mark smiled a little and waved to Sally, happy that his coms were still working. He casually said, ¡°Death to all monsters.¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah,¡± Sally said, ¡°Battle junkie with his junk hanging out all the damned time.¡±

    ¡°You know it!¡± Mark said, hauling himself up into the airlock and putting on his new board shorts. ¡°And your tit is out! What happened to your TT?¡±

    Sally huffed, saying, ¡°I let a bit too much damage in, but it worked! I hacked those leg scales open! Did you see it crash down when it tried to support itself?¡±

    ¡°I did! That was awesome!¡± Mark said.

    They talked about the fight, and time seemed to speed up now that Mark wasn¡¯t in the flow, in the fight.

    They landed and Eliot had a shirt ready to go for Sally, and Mark went back out, into the oozing sheet of mycelium, into the sunshine, to look for his adamantium that had gotten caught on the broken hand. He found his missing dagger fast enough...

    It was shaped kinda like a dragon claw, which was funky and Mark didn¡¯t want to think about, so he didn¡¯t. He melded the adamantium back into a normal part of his armor and left it there.

    Soon enough Sam Ranger¡¯s team was down on the ground and partitioning Shroomer¡¯s very dead corpse for parts.

    Whole teams of harvesters had to be pulled off of active duty, schedules broken and remade, because no one expected Mark and his team to be able to kill Shroomer, but they had, and the body absolutely needed to be harvested, and fast.

    The fungal colony under the ground was already trying to reclaim the remains, but that wasn¡¯t much of a problem; not when highly Skilled Harvesters and otherwise got involved. Barba Sacredcut was there, and Mark said hello to her, and she greeted them back, and then she was on the job, cutting open a giant white sac to get at the goods inside.

    Mages came out and cast some fungal sleeping spells and those spells put the colony into a temporary torpor that would last a day, so no one was worried about the kaiju-sized colony underfoot.

    ¡°If we had those spells we could have used them on Shroomer?¡± Mark asked, as they all stood to the side, near the main recovery operations.

    Sam said, ¡°Oh sure, and then you wouldn¡¯t get any points at all for this kill. The goal of allowing you kids to fight these things is to get you fighting experience with almost-kaiju, and I think that happened. I think you did some things very well, and some things very poorly but we¡¯ll talk about all of that later, after the harvest.¡± Sam smiled a little. ¡°But it was a good showing! How do you feel? How do all of you feel?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I want to do more.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I ran out of supplies. I need better options. More concise options.¡±

    Sally said, ¡°I¡­¡± She shook her head.

    She had things she wanted to say, but she was too scared to say them.

    Sam moved on, to look at Mark.

    Mark said, ¡°I feel fucking fantastic.¡± And then he looked at his team and truly meant it as he said, ¡°We did a great job! A very good job! Come on, you guys! We did great!¡±

    Sally didn¡¯t believe him.

    She was having an issue. She had closed off since Awakening, since their distancing caused by Addashield, and then all the rest, so Mark didn¡¯t know what she was thinking as much as he used to know.

    Isoko wanted to believe him. Her issues were easier to see and know, for she had never made any secret of how much she wanted to be the one flying around, killing kaiju with hurricanes or other grand gestures of power.

    Eliot was scared and trying to hide it. Mark wanted Eliot to be less scared, though he wasn¡¯t sure how to make that happen, or even if he could. Eliot was putting up walls and feeling better behind those walls, but that seemed like a self-reinforcing future. The way he was going, Eliot was always going to be scared of the outside world, and especially of kaiju.

    Mark said to all of them, ¡°We did great, you guys. Excellent.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Sam said. ¡°Despite being a hot shot who went in when he should have backed up, and who could have gotten himself killed if the monster had any surprises, he¡¯s mostly correct.¡±

    Mark almost wanted to scoff at that assessment. He knew what he was doing! There had been no vectors anywhere that would have indicated an attack that would have hit him, and he evaded all of the ones that did come for him¡­ But Sam probably knew what he was talking about, and Mark could, theoretically, understand that there might have been, like, trigger sensor proximity dangers, or something like that. Those things were usually vectorless until triggered. Ambush monsters did that a lot.

    ¡­ And Mark had lost a caltrop to a wayward break of Shroomer¡¯s hand. So¡­

    Yeah.

    Sam looked at Mark, and Mark prepared for a dressing down, because yeah, that¡¯s what you did to hot shots who almost got themselves killed, even if Mark was pretty sure he was totally fine out there.

    But instead, Sam just nodded, and said, ¡°Good job, team.¡±

 167

    ¡°I¡¯m never doing that again,¡± Sally said, ¡°That¡¯s what I was unable to say back there.¡±

    Mark just stared, feeling like the floor of the silver spider had dropped out from under him.

    The four of them were riding back in Eliot¡¯s hoverspider, with Isoko at the wheel, Eliot at the center, and Mark and Sally in their own chairs to the sides. The settlement lay in the distance, beyond the front windows, while the screens in the vehicle monitored everything within sight. There were a few red spots on the monitors, indicating monsters, but nothing concerning.

    What was concerning were Sally¡¯s words.

    Sally wasn¡¯t joking. And what¡¯s worse is that Isoko rumbled in agreement and Eliot hummed, not sure what to say, but also he kinda agreed with Sally and he wasn¡¯t sure how to say it without offending. Mark couldn¡¯t read minds, but he could tell a lot about a lot according to the vectors in the room, and Mark was the only one excited about what they had accomplished. Shroomer was dead, and they had done that.

    But they hadn¡¯t done enough?

    That was it, wasn¡¯t it.

    Mark wondered if now was a good time to have this conversation. They were all stressed emotionally, but¡­ Mark said, ¡°That¡¯s how you feel now, and sure, I get it. That was scary as shit. But we won. We did it¡ª¡±

    ¡°You did it,¡± Sally said, ¡°Not¡ª¡± She cut herself off.

    Mark Looked at Sally, saying, ¡°Everyone had a part to play, and we did it together.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that did it all, Mark,¡± Isoko softly said. ¡°I drove Eliot around.¡±

    Mark almost said something¡ª

    Eliot spoke, ¡°I¡¯m not fighting kaiju like that ever again.¡± His voice was calm, his vector unworried. He had made a decision a while ago but he was just now getting around to talking about it. His words were a simple statement, like the Two Worlds were round, human blood was red, and kaiju were big. He continued with the same tone, ¡°The vents broke on this, you know. The miasma got into the vents. I had to spend half of my resources to keep the ship intact, through the caustic spores. The acid that killed Shroomer¡¯s cloud? I used that first on the silver spider, all across the hull and inside, too. It worked well enough.¡±

    Silence.

    Mark looked down at the floor, and at the walls. He hadn¡¯t noticed the slight pitting here and there, but there were pits in the sleek silver surface, and in the rougher flooring, like someone had dropped acid everywhere. Which is exactly what had happened. Eliot probably had to replace everything inside, didn¡¯t he?

    That could have been catastrophic.

    ¡­ Shit.

    Mark had no idea what to say, but he knew he needed to say something. To rally the team so they didn¡¯t make the mistake of thinking they weren¡¯t powerful, that they weren¡¯t needed, that they didn¡¯t matter. Because they did matter! They were strong! They were needed! They mattered so fucking much! And Eliot solved the problem with the vent intake! He would never make the same mistake ever again.

    Mark had a few ideas of where to go with this.

    Mark began, ¡°Everyone is support in a kaiju kill, even the tip of the spear. No one gets there alone. It takes one big monster to kill the world, but it takes everyone to make it better. That¡¯s how it is.¡± Mark was met with silence. Vectors turned inward; away from Mark. Mark said, ¡°So that was scary and I get it. I really, really do. But we won. And if you want to do more next time then you can get stronger, because I know that¡¯s what I¡¯ll be doing¡ª¡± Sally wanted to say something, but Mark continued stronger, ¡°And if you don¡¯t want to be on the kaiju team then that¡¯s fine!¡± Sally held back. Mark spoke softer, ¡°¡­ If you don¡¯t want to do that again, you don¡¯t have to. But you do have to be ready for kaiju in your life. That¡¯s inevitable.

    ¡°There is no escaping the duty to fight.

    ¡°So, to fight better¡­ There¡¯s Flight and Protect magics from House Valen for me and Isoko, and Sally and Eliot if you want that, too? And better artifice stuff for you, Eliot, I¡¯m sure. Remember how we want that flying castle? Well that¡¯s the plan! I wasn¡¯t talking out of nothing when I said I wanted a flying castle. It could even be a castle large enough to be a city and able to defend itself like one, too. And¡­

    ¡°Sally, you want to be an Inquisitor, so you need to get on that. I don¡¯t really know what the power of the God of War and Murder can do in an Inquisitor¡¯s hands, but it has to be a lot, right? So get on that. And I mean really do it. The Collective is still here, somewhere, in the settlement, right? The Collective is everywhere. I think Isoko knows the ones who are at the bar all the time. So let¡¯s get on that.

    ¡°Make the commitment.

    ¡°And maybe in a few years we¡¯ll all be strong enough to venture into Endless Daihoon, to wade through kaiju like they¡¯re nothing, or be really, really good at hiding, and we¡¯ll find the elves and their Resurrection magics, and if we know enough about magic before we get there we¡¯ll know what we¡¯re looking at when we get there.

    ¡°And when we come back, we change the world into something better. Something where people don¡¯t have to be scared of kaiju at all, like in Tokyo, where they summon the kaiju with the gate openings and then make a show of killing them every month.

    ¡°And along the way to that future, we do what we can right here and now.¡±

    Mark ended it there, because he kinda lost the thread of the future. All he knew was that the future was out there, waiting for them to seize it. Waiting for them to be strong enough to grab it and hold on and make it theirs.

    Mark had his team until that last part, too.

    Sally was reluctantly hopeful, realizing that she did have things she could do, even if she couldn¡¯t go directly against kaiju. That had never been her goal in life at all, and she was only just now realizing a lot of her own goals in life.

    Isoko was easier to speak to, for as soon as Mark mentioned magics she went ¡®huh¡¯ and nodded, as though she had remembered she had good, huge goals in life.

    Eliot had a lot of good, unseen thoughts. If Mark were to guess, they might have been something along the lines of ¡®Well yeah, the supplies in the spider weren¡¯t enough, but a full castle of supplies? That could work¡¯.

    Speaking of Resurrection magics had caused a small grin on Sally and Isoko, while Eliot simply hummed and raised an eyebrow. Mark imagined Eliot thinking, ¡®It would make for a good story, but an impossible goal.¡¯

    And then there was the last thing Mark had said. About changing the world.

    Eliot asked, ¡°What do you mean, ¡®do what we can in the here and now¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure!¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m still figuring that out, but¡­ you know. Some things are messed up! The world is broken and it needs fixing. Like¡­ I¡¯m¡­ Mage Secrecy. That¡¯s one. I¡¯m reasonably sure that when we learn about Flight and Protection magic from House Valen that they¡¯ll tell us some very good reasons for Mage Secrecy, just how there are good reasons for Curtain Protocol on Earth. There¡¯s nothing wrong with being a brawny, yeah, but¡­

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m making a kaiju out of a malformation, here, but you have Man-made Manipulation, Eliot, and you certainly didn¡¯t come by that outside of your family. Magic flows on family lines¡ª Or rather, magic flows on exposure, germination probably, and then solidification through the System and the Tutorial.

    ¡°Addashield and Inquisitor Lola and some unnamed alchemist did my seeding.

    ¡°It is very possible, in a directed sort of way, to ensure that people get what powers they want when they Awaken. So why not let people choose what kind of magic they get? It¡¯s obviously possible. I had a bad reaction and ended up in a coma, but repairing a bad seeding is possible, too, with that Emperor¡¯s Child Color Drop treatment I got. Expense cannot be the biggest hurdle to Emperor¡¯s Child being the norm, because Addashield specifically said that the only reason I got the Drop was to ensure that I could actually do the Tutorial so that Addashield wouldn¡¯t Fall. So! That¡¯s one thing I would like to change.

    ¡°People should be able to choose their own power in life, instead of the random and inherited choices we all have thrust upon us. The biggest hurdles to that are political¡­ And I don¡¯t know what it means to say that right now, only that the system is set up in certain ways that I don¡¯t even realize and I want to change the system.¡±

    There was a deep moment, there in that silver spider, hovering its way toward the settlement.

    Mark had looked away from his team as he spoke, his mind turning inward as words spilled from his lips, but now he looked back toward them, and he saw hope.

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m in. Of course I¡¯m in. Sorry!¡± And then she added, like it was no big deal, ¡°I got jealous. It will happen again.¡±

    Sally smiled a little, and then laughed.

    Eliot grinned.

    And that was enough.

    Mark announced, ¡°So we got like fucking 60k points, yeah?! Let¡¯s buy some shit! Or let¡¯s have a party! That was our first ¡ª<sub>mini</sub>¡ª kaiju kill but there¡¯s gonna be a lot more!¡±

    The atmosphere was a lot better¡ª

    But Sally still went, ¡°Ha! Fuck no. I¡¯m serious about staying away from kaiju. 10 meters tall; that¡¯s my limit.¡±

    ¡°I could do 10 meters,¡± Eliot said.

    Mark scoffed, disbelieving. ¡°10 meters is nothing! At least 20.¡±

    Isoko grinned and Eliot hummed in thought.

    ¡°The hands need to be smaller than my body, Mark,¡± Sally said, with a grin. ¡°That¡¯s my real limit.¡±

    ¡°So what if there are no hands?¡± Isoko asked, in a teasing sort of way.

    ¡°10 meters tall, then,¡± Sally said.

    ¡°15?¡± Mark tried to bargain.

    ¡°I can do more mini-kaiju kills as long as I¡¯m support and far away,¡± Eliot said.

    ¡°I can learn to drive a vehicle, too,¡± Sally said. ¡°I can¡¯t let Isoko have all the fun flying around.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± Isoko said, ¡°Certification was a bitch, but it¡¯s fun! Flying is fun. I like hovercars, but the goal is flight magics, and...¡±

    The conversation shifted away from what felt like the dissolution of the group, to something better. Something with a good future. And Mark was glad. For a minute there, he was worried. But of course there was nothing to worry about. All it took was a reminder that they had shared goals for them to come back together¡ª

    ¡°So the video of the kill,¡± Eliot said, as they flew over the wall of the settlement. ¡°Should I edit out the parts where you used dragon-shaped wings and claws? Or do you want to keep them?¡±

    Mark felt the blood drain from his face.

    Sally and Isoko suddenly looked at Mark, and then at Eliot, and then back to Mark.

    Mark breathed out a little, and then he made a decision, ¡°Keep them in.¡±

    Sally was surprised.

    Eliot was feeling some kinda way that held no easy label.

    Isoko asked, ¡°Tyrant-king, dragon-brother Blackvein?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what happened out there, but everyone saw, so yeah. I¡¯m leaning into it.¡±

    Sally¡¯s eyes went wide.

    Eliot nodded. ¡°Okay. Then that¡¯s what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    Sally looked at everyone, and then at Mark. ¡°You¡¯re not sure what happened out there?¡±

    ¡°Yes. No real clue what happened. Maybe someone will talk to me about it later, since there¡¯s no hiding anything at the settlement¡ª Ah!¡± Mark realized, ¡°That¡¯s why Sam was acting weird there when he congratulated us.¡±

    Eliot nodded.

    Isoko said, ¡°I wondered what that was, so yeah, that makes sense.¡±

    Sally frowned a little bit, and then she realized something, her body relaxing. She huffed a laugh, then said, ¡°We¡¯ve got goals and already I¡¯m ride-or-die, but I would like to know what I¡¯m riding occasionally, so I¡¯ll keep a lookout.¡±

    Mark smiled a little.

    Isoko laughed once as she angled the silver spider downward. They were over the city and following clearance toward the hovercar hangar.

    Eliot said, ¡°So the party tonight! There¡¯s this group of guys in Castle 3 that have been begging me for a big gathering place and they¡¯re in a band, so I was thinking we can make them a place and get it staffed with people, or something. There¡¯s a whole business district that needs to be made, actually, with a thousand different people wanting different things.¡± As Isoko landed the spidercraft on the hovercar hangar, Eliot continued, ¡°Long ramble short: Let¡¯s get a party venue made, and then have a party? I¡¯ll show off the video, too, that way you can get in front of all the new hidden dragon accusations that are coming your way, Mark.¡±

    As the craft settled down, Mark steeled himself, saying, ¡°Yes.¡±

    Mark stepped out of the silver spider first¡ª

    There was a small crowd arced around the space. They hadn¡¯t appeared on the cameras, but here they were, with Aurora at the front, smiling. A banner of paper held in the air behind them, supported on rainbow light, read ¡®Congratulations!¡¯.

    Aurora announced, ¡°Congratulations! You opened up the fungal forest for harvesting! 75,000 points to each of you, Mark Careed, Eliot Cybersong, Sally Wuthers, and Isoko Kanno!¡± And then she started clapping.

    Worry became joy, and the day progressed rapidly to something wonderful.

 168

    Mark watched as Eliot built a party place south of the castles, near the lake, with bars and lighting and a stage for a band. There was room for a thousand people over three floors and even more outdoor spaces. Knife throwing walls, long tables, grassy spaces. People had been wanting such a place for a while, and as Eliot built it, people were already moving in, setting up the bar and fixing up the plumbing and everything else. Someone had to actually run the place, and Eliot wasn¡¯t sure who was going to do that, but for now it was just a community gathering space.

    A lot of people were congratulating Mark on killing Shroomer.

    ¡°Gods that must have been scary!¡± said a girl Mark¡¯s age, who had introduced herself but Mark forgot her name. She pressed her breasts toward him, but she didn¡¯t seem to appreciate that Mark didn¡¯t appreciate her body. But she got the message. ¡°Well congrats! Just wanted to say that, and so¡­ yeah!¡±

    The other girl, who Mark remembered was called Deanna, which was almost his mother¡¯s name, said, ¡°Congrats again! We¡¯re glad to finally see a party place happening, too! Can you, uh, tell Eliot that?¡± Without waiting for any sort of confirmation, or small talk, and looking both embarrassed and nervous at the same time, Deanna took her friend¡¯s hand and hurried away¡ª She called back, ¡°Nice to meet you, Mark! And Eliot! We¡¯ll be back for the party later!

    ¡°Later!¡± Mark said, as he waved goodbye.

    The girls whispered harshly at each other before they were fully out of sight, and Mark grinned a little bit at that. The first one was aiming for Mark, which was just something he had to deal with, but Deanna had the hots for Eliot, and that was nice for him.

    Mark turned back toward Eliot. It was just the two of them right now. Isoko and Sally were in the apartment, or somewhere else, doing something. Eliot was putting the finishing touches on the railing on the third floor balcony, overlooking the lake, and the place was looking good. Solid stone flooring, white and marble overlay most places, with nice furniture and plenty of standing space with tables and a nice music system back there. It would transmit the sound from the stage down below. The place actually had two stages; the main one in the west and the second one in the east.

    Eliot finished with the railing, and then he stepped back and smiled, saying, ¡°It looks good, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Heck yeah it does!¡± Mark thumbed back toward the stairwell heading down. The girls were gone, but Eliot had probably seen them. Mark said, ¡°Those girls wanted to meet you.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s face broke into a bright smile. And then he rolled his shoulders, standing as tall as he could, and said, ¡°That could be fun.¡±

    Mark grinned a little. He didn¡¯t get it, but he was glad for Eliot. Mark was excited for the party, though, and for what killing Shroomer meant for the future, but he knew Eliot didn¡¯t want to get into situations like that anymore, so, since it was just the two of them, Mark asked, ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to go up against kaiju, or anything like Shroomer ever again, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s untrue. I was just freaking out because of the casual damage, Mark,¡± Eliot said, waving a hand at the ground. ¡°I can fight the big fights as support. I never want to be that close again.¡±

    Mark pulled back whatever concerns or objections he might have had, and simply smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± And then he smiled wider, and grabbed Eliot¡¯s shoulders and gave him a quick hug, and then let go, saying, ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡±

    Eliot chuckled as he pushed Mark away. ¡°You¡¯re gonna help me pick up chicks, right?¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Mark laughed. ¡°You¡¯re joking. Aren¡¯t you a noble with bloodlines and shit to worry about?¡±

    ¡°Yeah I am. But I¡¯m finally away from home and we¡¯re making lives here, so I¡¯m gonna start looking for fun times.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh. Uh. Fun, then? You¡¯re, uh, serious.¡±

    Eliot laughed. ¡°I am.¡±

    Mark thumbed back toward the staircase. ¡°Those girls were here for you¡ª Well. I think they want your money. I definitely felt some greed coming off of them. But that¡¯s, like, omnipresent here in the settlement.¡±

    ¡°Greed is fine, as long as it¡¯s not dangerous greed. I¡¯m just having fun here.¡± Eliot added, ¡°And I don¡¯t need your actual help, but if you do sense anything weird then I want you to tell me. Probably afterward. Use your judgment!¡±

    ¡°Oh sure. I can do that.¡±

    Eliot grinned. And then he pointed down to the ground, to the west, and then east, asking, ¡°Pool there? Or over there? Got any suggestions for the pool?¡±

    Mark instantly said, ¡°The dancing stage is down there! And you already have a pool on the north side. And we got a giant lake. Can we swim in the lake?¡± Mark asked, ¡°Can we get a beach?¡±

    Eliot laughed. ¡°No way in hell! I want big, easy areas for girls in bikinis to lounge around in the sun and maybe get a little wet, so like, a big wading pool. Not some battle maniac¡¯s idea of swimming with fishes in an open body of water.¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any monsters in the lake!¡± Mark said, ¡°And you can make a big beach, you know. Lots of distance to the actual water. Lots of soft sand for women to walk around in bikinis. Like¡­ I never got the appeal, but all the guys on the rugby team in high school loved going to the beach each summer, when the city cleared it for baseline times. We could have a beach here all the time if we wanted!¡±

    ¡°¡­ Well¡­ Maybe not all the time, because the lake does have¡­ hmm. There are issues, but you make a compelling point.¡±

    Mark stood triumphant. ¡°I knew you¡¯d see it my way.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want a beach if you don¡¯t care about girls?¡±

    Mark was a little embarrassed as he said, ¡°Well¡­ The beach was only open for a month or two every year, but¡­ I never got to go as much as I wanted.¡± He looked out to the lake. ¡°But this is our home, right? So I want everything I could ever want, right here, and that includes a beach.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah,¡± Eliot said, nodding. ¡°Good reason.¡±

    Mark started counting on his fingers and naming things, ¡°Also a movie theater, a mall, a battlezone like they have in the Hero Quarter of any major city, an auction house with all of the really fun magical stuff that you only ever see in the big cities, a beer garden, bookstores, and we gotta have a real hospital¡ª Oh! And a secondary education place, because I want to take more worldly classes out of Citadel of Freyala. I think they have classes at Mage Society but I¡¯m never going there for obvious reasons, and¡­¡±

    As Mark listed places, Eliot¡¯s eyes went a little wide, and he grinned, and then he started talking about big plans for big things. The settlement was going to be a major city, and Eliot had plans. The gate dock was just one major thing he was planning on making, but he wanted high fashion and art shows and so much more.

    The party that night was an absolutely wonderful mess.

    The band didn¡¯t play what people liked and someone heckling their singing, and then it was karaoke for an hour, but the beer flowed and that was good, up until Second in Command, Kandon Valen, had to ¡®get tough about battle readiness¡¯, so it was watered down wine for the rest of the night. Or at least it would have been, but the paladins went behind Kandon¡¯s back and got everyone some of the good stuff from their own stores. When the paladins got found out, High Paladin Azocar Sanchez, of Hearthswell, who happened to be Eliot¡¯s teacher who Mark never really saw, came out and spoke about alcohol-restricting magics.

    It was some sort of Hearthswellian Secret and not much was said about it, but after some additions to the walls of the place, if you got drunk at The Spot, which is what people were calling the new ¡®location for everything fun!¡¯ then you¡¯d find the alcohol evaporating from you when you left the property. Azocar even installed an emergency detox switch that was installed next to the bar, like a big red button that he labeled ¡®NO FUN!¡¯, and which he then demonstrated.

    Everyone bemoaned as the atmosphere turned lesser, and the party might have died right there, but Kandon was only partially serious about battle readiness.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Kandon ¡®bought¡¯ a round of beer for everyone after that, which was nice of him, since he instituted the new price of alcohol at 100 points a cup. It was priced that way to make it a luxury here in this ¡®warzone¡¯, but he had an unlimited supply of points. There were lots of ways to have fun outside of beer, though.

    Someone got the bright idea to set up a volleyball net on the beach Eliot and a few other guys had made, and now they were playing volleyball, and Mark wanted in. So did a lot of other people, especially when Eliot started handing out free bathing suits. Bikinis for the girls, and usually something more modest for the men, but a few guys ended up in banana hammocks, because that¡¯s what they wanted.

    Under the auroras and bright lights, Mark got to play volleyball with some guys on the beach that he did not really know. Mark had met Gerard and Havo during Basic work at the loading docks, and now he played volleyball with them, and somehow Eliot made a whole beach full of game areas, and someone started an impromptu tournament, because everyone was cooped up and there wasn¡¯t enough to do outside of killing monsters. Killing monsters and working was fine! But a person needed to unwind now and then, and that¡¯s what they did.

    Soon, Mark and his impromptu team of Gerard and Havo were facing off against Sally and two of her girl friends she had met this last week. Not girl-girl friends, but definite friends, and maybe Rache was headed toward girlfriend territory, according to what Mark was sensing from them, but neither Sally nor Rache were willing to close any sort of distance at all, which was what it was.

    Sally and her friends were wearing bikinis, of course, thanks to Eliot. They showed off for the crowd and then they trounced Mark, Havo, and Gerard. Sally was taller than anyone there, so yeah, height worked out well for her.

    The sun set and lights went on, and the night wore on, with lights and music and dancing at the Spot.

    And then there was a giant cake covered in fake, sugar mushrooms, with ¡®congrats on the big kill!¡¯ on top of the cake. It was for Mark and his team, and it was delicious.

    Aurora was there, holding a glass of wine and standing to the side, grinning in a quiet moment, while Mark was listening to Isoko talk about costume design and the battle arena Mark had told Eliot about. Aurora lifted her glass while Mark glanced her way, and Mark smiled back, and then Aurora went back to talking with her brother, under the flow of music.

    The band had had a bunch of kinks to work out earlier in the evening, but then they had added some girl to their roster who could actually sing, and they had asked for Mark to help them with coordination, and so Mark helped them with a Union, and they turned out pretty awesome. They hadn¡¯t named their band yet, but they all knew the music just fine.

    It was kinda magical to be there, to be alive and dancing to the music, to feel the beating of his heart and the hearts of all those around him.

    Mark found himself lost to the music, and it was good.

    - -

    Tartu glared at ¡®The Spot¡¯ from the tram station.

    Kardi, Shawn, and Lenny stood with him. All of them were silent, and all of them wanted to go to the party.

    The tram pulled into the gate behind Tartu and then opened up, disgorging yet another crowd that was eager for a big party. They didn¡¯t care why the party was happening, only that it was, and that everything was free.

    Some of the girls wore their best dresses and had their hair in styles, while some of the guys wore jackets and slacks. Others wore jeans and teeshirts, or they still had on some of their armor¡ª

    Tartu stared, dumbfounded, at a pair of people he thought he had known.

    William Hallingill, and his twin sister Wilma, both heroes in the HVP, stepped out of the tram, laughing with friends, both of them wearing those green and gold webweaves. Their hero outfits, but different. They had stopped wearing white and blue, and Tartu had hated that, but he hadn¡¯t been able to ask them why they had changed. They were avoiding him.

    They wouldn¡¯t avoid him this time.

    Tartu stepped into their path. The crowd noticed Tartu first, and some of them parted around him, but William and Willma did not. Their faces fell, and then rallied. Reluctance gave way to resignation.

    William sighed, ¡°Hello, Tartu. What¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a hidden demon,¡± Tartu said, avoiding whatever nonsense William was going to say.

    The crowd went around them, but a few lingered, watching.

    Let them watch.

    Tartu continued, ¡°Even now, he uses his Union to create a party that has no right existing. He smooths over social expectations. He makes things happen that should not happen. He does it all for his own favor, and for the future ingress of Addavein into our lives. You have seen the videos of him killing Shroomer, yes? He uses claws and wings. That is proof enough¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh stuff it,¡± Wilma said, having had enough. ¡°He¡¯s a villain, playing into the role, and neither I nor my brother want to be involved in the politics of the Aluatha Empire anymore. This is between you and him, and right now you¡¯re losing support, so figure it out, Tartu.¡± And then she grabbed her brother¡¯s wrist and walked both of them around Tartu.

    William waved a little, saying, ¡°See you around Tartu? No hard feelings!¡±

    And then they were down and away, and Tartu didn¡¯t want to stick around, either.

    Tartu got onto the empty tram. Kardi instantly followed.

    Shawn and Lenny both looked to The Spot with a desire¡ª

    ¡°We¡¯ll make our own Spot,¡± Tartu told them.

    Shawn instantly straightened up and walked onto the tram, saying, ¡°Fuck yeah we will!¡±

    Lenny followed, saying, ¡°I want a beach. I miss the beach.¡±

    As the tram door closed, Tartu said, ¡°We¡¯ll make a beach that¡¯s a lot safer than the one they got there. That¡¯s fucking river water. Connected to the Shine.¡± He muttered, disbelieving, ¡°Idiots.¡±

    Shawn was disbelieving too, as he asked, ¡°But the Shine is downstream and there are filters and¡­ and everything?¡±

    ¡°Still dangerous,¡± Kardi said, backing Tartu up.

    - -

    A fin protruded from the surface of the lake. It belonged to a monster that had come from either upstream or downstream; who knew. The after-incident report noted holes on both the intake and outflow gates, but for now, the fish was there and it was coming in, looking to nibble on a guy''s legs he left dangling in the darkened waters.

    A detection system activated, tearing Eliot away from the absolute vision in front of him, but as he looked up from the very large breasts of a very pretty girl named Maragan, he saw Mark throw a black spear into the water and stab the fish. The fish was two meters long and it thrashed and flickered with gloom, trying to get away, but Mark hauled it above the waters, and he cheered. Several other people cried out that Mark was too fast, and that they wanted to catch the fish, including the guy who had been dangling his legs in the water. Two Harvesters, one of which was Havo on Mark¡¯s volleyball team, told Mark about how it was really good eating, but Mark apparently already knew this.

    Mark was the one who had gotten it, but only because he was the fastest.

    Eliot didn¡¯t know shit about fish, but enough people thought it was good to eat that Eliot didn¡¯t care to step in at all. From what he was seeing elsewhere in his senses, other people were coming to the same conclusion.

    Eliot was pretty sure that Aurora and Kandon were talking to each other in the corner over there, about how none of this was acceptable, but that they¡¯d talk about fixing it all later. Not right now, though.

    Maragan looked over at Mark in the distance, though she spoke to Eliot, ¡°The beach isn¡¯t safe?¡±

    Eliot turned back to the big girl, laying it on thick, ¡°Nowhere is safe, but we can be safe together.¡±

    Maragan blushed a little¡­ And then she paused. ¡°But no. Seriously.¡±

    Eliot smirked and said, ¡°I¡¯ll shut down the beach when we¡¯re done for the night. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get an incident report about what happened, and then make some fixes here and there.¡±

    Maragan brightened. ¡°You¡¯re so accomplished, Eliot.¡±

    They were both laying it on thick, and neither of them minded.

 169

    ¡°The Spot is a wonderful addition to the settlement,¡± Elaria Valen said, as she sat down across from Mark and Isoko, in the drawing room of House Valen. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that the redesign was so strongly enforced.¡±

    Eliot had needed to remove the beach last night, along with redesigning the whole place for better sight lines and less dark corners for people to fuck in. Apparently that had been a problem. Mark focused on the other loss of last night.

    Mark said. ¡°The beach can come back some other day.¡±

    Mark and Isoko had showed up to House Valen¡¯s mansion at the Noble District promptly at 9:00 AM, as directed, for their magic classes, and been met by a wall of a man, named Sekail. He was the butler of the house, and he was covered in scars that made him look dangerous. He leaned into it, projecting an air of danger, but he had been perfectly welcoming in a gruff sort of way, and then he served them tea and cookies while they waited for Elaria to show. Elaria swept into the room at 9:10, so they didn¡¯t have to wait long at all.

    Elaria smiled gently, then looked to the table, saying, ¡°Please clear the table, Sekail.¡±

    Sekail cleared away the table, bowed, and exited the room.

    ¡°Magic is easy to learn but hard to master,¡± Elaria began, without preamble or anything else. ¡°You two don¡¯t have nearly enough background in astral physics to make any of this truly easy, but I promise you, if you stick with it, and if you do the work, you will be flying around and protected from most things below your level, soon enough. Fighting things tougher than you will always be a problem. According to some deals we have made with Mage Society, I will not be teaching you anything outside of Flight and Protection, but, to learn these magics, there is a base you must first understand, and where you go from there is up to you.¡±

    Mark was a little worried that he should be taking notes, but there was no paper to be had, and Elaria never mentioned taking notes, so¡­ Sure! Here they were, the secrets of the mages! About to be spilled!

    Mark and Isoko were both so very ready for this.

    Elaria sat prim and proper, and intoned, ¡°Legends say that magic used to be dreams, and then demons crawled out of the dreams, bringing with them all of the power of imagination made real. No one knows who made the first spell, or what the first spell even was, but we know the outcome of the first spell.

    ¡°A dreamer dreamed of a demon and that demon killed its dreamer.¡±

    Mark felt a chill in the air.

    ¡°Some say that the killing of the dreamer made more demons. Some say that the demons simply willed more of themselves into existence. Some say that for every person, there is a demon, and though the people die the demons never do, and so there are uncountable demons. No one really knows the truth, and the demons like to speak of everything they do as true, and so, we must content ourselves with a mystery.

    ¡°But demons and magic are intrinsically linked; that much is true.

    ¡°That is the dangerous path you walk when you ¡®study magic¡¯, which I will now tell you is a complete misnomer of the truth of magic. There is a lot of study, yes, and some of it is truly basic, but for you, for most people, there is mostly work. The real name for the largest study of magic is called the Opening of Bindings. That is what I will be teaching you.

    ¡°Infinite dreams lay in the Bindings that mana has placed upon ourselves, and it is up to us to realize what that means.¡±

    A moment passed.

    And then Elaria smiled, and a gloom that Mark hadn¡¯t noticed seemed to dissipate. She said, ¡°We¡¯re not dealing with raw arcane. I cannot teach you that. That¡¯s the stuff of wizards, archmages, and grand mages. Instead I will teach you what it means to Open the Bindings placed upon you. Now what do I mean by that? I mean your Skills that you acquired through the Tutorial, and all other means afforded to you, can be changed. Can be made better. Can be directed.¡±

    Mark furrowed his brows. Was she talking about¡­ Power work? Skill work?

    Isoko seemed similarly confused.

    ¡°To make a long explanation short,¡± Elaria said, ¡°Awakening in the Tutorial solidified within you your Skills¡ª Powers, if you like the Earth term better. Your Powers are what they are due to the Ritual of Binding you enacted in undertaking the Tutorial.

    ¡°What you acquired in the Tutorial was Binding Level One.

    ¡°Most people on Earth are able to Awaken at Binding Level Zero, long before they even touch the Tutorial. You have Curtain Protocol to prevent this.

    ¡°You would call these Binding Level Zeros as ¡®Knacks¡¯ or ¡®Knowings¡¯, and those are the same terms we use here on Daihoon, though that is a recent change, ever since the Reveal. Knacks are truly simple things on Earth. If someone on Daihoon Awakens a Knack, then it might be a bit more complicated. On Earth, someone might gain a Knack for cooking. On Daihoon, the same Knack might be for Cooking Monsters, or Cooking with Music, or something like that. Usually people don¡¯t Awaken Knacks on Daihoon, because we take steps to ensure that all kids are able to go through the Tutorial and Awaken at Level One, and Awakening requires a big change in mana, and kids on Daihoon don¡¯t normally get that unless they walk into a fireball, or are attacked by an especially potent monster that doesn¡¯t just kill them.

    ¡°We used to call Knacks ¡®Lessers¡¯ here on Daihoon, because they were exactly that.

    ¡°Of course, Awakening at Lesser was a great way to avoid the Thresher, so back in my childhood, before the Reveal, a lot of parents tried to Awaken their kids at Lesser and give them the life of a slave or a dreg or soldier. Sometimes, a person would purposefully Awaken a possible prodigy of magic to Zero, so that there was no chance of them dying in the Thresher. Or, the parents or guardians skipped that option entirely, which was the most common thing to do. They made sure to help their kids Awaken in the Thresher at Level One. Weapons training and exercise and all of that were common tools. Most people tried to help their kids get ready for the Thresher, because Awakening to Lesser was very difficult. Still is. Other common slang for such a Level Zero includes ¡®Halfer¡¯ or even ¡®Quarterer¡¯.¡±

    Mark thought back to how people used to label Mom and Dad as Quarters, due to their lack of having any real Power. All they had were Water Cleanse and Fish Yank.

    ¡­ Oh shit.

    Mage Secrecy was big, but it was also right there the whole time.

    ¡°So you have Zero, the Lessers, and then you have Awakened at Level One,¡± Elaria said, ¡°Through hard work and understanding, a Lesser might one day open the Binding of Zero, and Awaken to One. That is why we call it Opening the Bindings. Mind you! It is NOT Breaking the Bindings. That is what a crazy or desperate mage does when they know they are going to die and they need to save others. Breaking the Binding is taking off limiters and then using one¡¯s power to the fullest to cause an effect, which might not always work because those limiters are there for reasons. Breaking almost always ends in the death of the user.

    ¡°For reasons which will become clear, I doubt you will ever be able to Break your Binding.

    ¡°Most people who have truly powerful Skills cannot Break their Bindings. Catastrophic failures, yes. Breaking? No. But I tell you the terminology, and impress upon you the nature of what we are going to do, so that you know how to talk to others, because it is very possible for anyone of lesser Power than you two to severely hurt themselves with what I will teach you today. This is why Mage Secrecy exists. Because when normal people learn this stuff, they die. It is truly only because you have such high Power Levels that I am teaching you these things at all.

    ¡°Do you understand? Yes, I see that you do.

    ¡°Moving on:

    ¡°The first lesson of Opening the Bindings is learning how to sense your Binding. This is called ¡®Opening¡¯, and it is where the whole practice gets its name.

    ¡°From there, we categorize how your Binding is structured. This is called mapping the Binding, or ¡®understanding¡¯, or some variation of that. ¡®Seeing¡¯ is a good one, too.

    ¡°Once the mapping is complete, I will instruct you in the common ways in which your Binding might be altered to allow for more specialty magics. This is called ¡®adjustment of the map¡¯. ¡®Altering¡¯ is also used.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°For you, we¡¯ll be looking to add Flight and Protect to your ability, but as every individual person¡¯s Binding is different, with different starting points, different limits, different everything, adjustments are different for every single person. It is fully possible for someone with a weak Awakening to fully alter their original Power, and to come into possession of something much better than the original ability. For you, it will be a struggle to add anything at all, and your map will likely always revert back to its original shape.

    ¡°Reversion is the normal operation of a Binding.

    ¡°What one usually does when they ¡®cast magic¡¯, is they make an alteration to their Binding in a known sort of way long before they use that alteration, and then they use their astral body within their alteration, through their alteration, and thus they cause an effect. This usually ¡®uses up¡¯ the binding, and the Binding reverts back to whatever it was before you created the alteration.

    ¡°The whole ordeal is exceedingly more complicated than that, but that is generally what it means to Open the Bindings. This is what it means to ¡®cast magic¡¯.

    ¡°To explain it all again, as small as I can:

    ¡°You build your magic out of your astral body, and then you cast your magic. Since your magic was made outside of your Binding, this usually uses up the magic, but there are tricks to avoid using up your magic. If you build wrong, you might kill yourself or ruin your foundation or your Binding, but with a strong foundation and initial Binding, like you two have, you shouldn¡¯t experience that sort of catastrophic failure.

    ¡°You may ask questions now.¡±

    Mark¡¯s mind felt like he was flying across the land, trees and bushes and small streams flickering by as he went faster and faster.

    A lot of things made new sense in passing.

    Paladin Orissa, back at Citadel Freyala, when she was giving her Introduction class, spoke about how mages built their own bodies, forming their astral bodies into muscles that they wanted to have and use, instead of the muscles and bones that the System installed in a person when they Awakened from the Tutorial. She had been speaking almost literally, but Mark hadn¡¯t understood that until now.

    Archmage Blackthorn of Memphi had spoken about morphing the soul into magic to then use that new functionality like magic. Mark had not really believed that the Archmage was being literal, but he was being literal.

    And now Elaria was going to teach them how to do the mapping and alteration, and that¡¯s all spellwork really was.

    And then Mark thought to his parents.

    What was Dad¡¯s original Knack, that he had tried to make into Telekinesis in his one year of arcanaeum, but which had degraded into Fish Yank? Grandpa had Hydrokinesis. Great Grandpa had also had Hydrokinesis, if Mark recalled correctly, and he was pretty sure he did not recall correctly at all. Dad never went through the Tutorial though, so what did he have? What did he transform into Fish Yank? Uncle Alexandro probably knew.

    Whatever the case, Powers did flow through families, at least a little. But most people on Earth ended up as brawnies.

    Had Dad gone through the False Tutorial and seen he would have been a brawny, so he opted for arcanaeum? Mark didn¡¯t know. He didn¡¯t know so much about his parents, but he wanted to know.

    And how about Mom?

    Mark knew almost nothing about his mother¡¯s family. As far as Mark knew, Mom was an orphan. She had grown up in public housing, like a lot of people, and then she had met Dad and¡­ dammit. Where did they meet? At arcanaeum? Mark couldn¡¯t remember.

    ¡­ Whatever the case, Mark wasn¡¯t able to even speculate on his mother¡¯s initial Knack.

    Mark¡¯s fate had been ¡®brawny¡¯ until Addashield and Lola and then the Emperor¡¯s Drop mutated his astral body into what it became.

    According to Addashield, Mark had been a Blank Canvas before Addashield painted his soul black.

    Did that mean something?

    It must have meant something.

    And Lola must have known what she was doing when she imbued him with Union, as well¡­

    Or, actually, Freyala worked through Lola, so Freyala knew what she was doing, which¡­ was something to think about. Did Lola know about ¡®mapping the astral body¡¯? And ¡®altering¡¯? And what magic actually was? Surely she knew about magic, at its base. She had often told Mark that she might not be a part of Mage Society, but she knew a lot of tricks.

    A lot of people knew a lot of tricks, it seemed.

    But they kept this information hidden, because if you told a person with a Knack about what was possible then that person would try to alter themselves to make themselves stronger¡ª

    Mark breathed in sharply.

    And if a person altered themselves without instruction, then they probably mutated into a monster.

    A malformation.

    Elaria watched Mark and Isoko thinking.

    Isoko was having her own set of deep thoughts next to Mark, her eyes pointed down and away, at the edge of a bookshelf, but her vector was fully internalized.

    Mark asked, ¡°Monsterization is the result of faulty Binding?¡±

    ¡°Correct! Somewhat,¡± Elaria said, her voice a little high with surprise. ¡°If an alteration doesn¡¯t kill a person, they might monsterize. Depends on a lot of factors. That should not happen with you, but we will explore your maps together so that this outcome is made impossible.¡±

    Mark rapidly asked his next question, ¡°Some Knacks, Knowings, and even some Powers are more prone to monsterization than others, aren¡¯t they.¡±

    Less of a question, more of a request for confirmation.

    ¡°Correct again,¡± Elaria said, with a little less surety. She was concerned with this line of questioning, but she went with it anyway. ¡°Brawnies are the most naturally resistant toward monsterization because their initial map is pointed toward keeping themselves intact and healthy, and as long as the initial map is untouched, then monsterization almost never happens.¡±

    ¡°The thing that Thrashtalon does,¡± Mark began, and Isoko whipped her gaze at him, while Elaria raised a concerned eyebrow. Mark continued, ¡°It¡¯s called Wilding. That¡¯s the forced alteration of the soul into something else, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Correct¡ª¡±

    ¡°And Skillers of the Empire do this magic, too¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ahh,¡± Elaria said, interrupting Mark, which seemed fully on purpose. With a pleasant expression, she continued, ¡°That¡¯s a new record for me! Usually the Forbidden Arts don¡¯t come up for a while, but people are curious, and most students arrive at this particular lesson sooner or later, so I will simply give an abbreviated version for now and save the longer version for months from now. To say it shortly: Altering the souls of others is forbidden. That is the wide and the deep of it. You, Mark, might be able to do this quite easily with Union, but you shouldn¡¯t. Isoko, you will eventually find yourself capable of this as well, but you shouldn¡¯t do this either. Neither of you will actually have an easy time of it, but you will have an easier time than most. There are certifications you can undergo to be able to become a Skiller of the Empire, or of any city out there, but that is beyond the lessons I will be teaching you, and I heavily suggest you stay away from all of that. That sort of thing will have a Sentinel of the Empire coming after you if the Inquisitors don¡¯t get you first. You understand?¡±

    Mark felt the intensity of Elaria¡¯s vector right alongside her words.

    Some questions died in his throat, like questions about Skillers doing human experimentation and how that sort of experimentation was done on him, and how some Skiller of the Empire probably made his Color Drop treatment, and if he wanted to ensure that everyone was allowed to choose their own Power instead of being saddled with whatever random shit they got, then he would need to know more about the Forbidden Arts...

    Mark put that stuff out of his mind, for now.

    Mark said, ¡°Sorry. A lot of things made sense, so I¡­ asked.¡±

    ¡°Understandable!¡± Elaria looked to Isoko, and asked, ¡°Isoko?¡±

    Isoko simply nodded, saying, ¡°I have no questions. Please, let us continue?¡±

    Elaria grinned. ¡°I haven¡¯t taught two scions in a while. This is going to be fun; I can already tell.¡± And then she got a bit more serious. ¡°So, to start, you need to learn how to investigate your own astral body, this means closing your eyes and meditating until you begin to ¡®fall into yourself¡¯. It might take a long, long time for you to achieve this, and it might only happen in dreams to start, but when you do, we will move past this part and into mapping. For now, I will direct your first meditation. Now close your eyes, and focus on stillness. Imagine yourself as a pond of water¡­¡±

 170

    Learning how to be a mage started with astral body stretching, and Mark had mixed feelings during the whole experience. On the one hand, it was simple. He could do this part on his own, and indeed, he had been doing this every so often on his own anyway. On the other hand, he didn¡¯t see how this was actually going to allow him to cast spells, so right now this whole thing was a leap of faith.

    Not a large leap, seeing as how it made no sense at all for Elaria to lie to them like this, but it was still a leap of faith.

    Meditation was a big part of the process.

    Then came attempts at completely separating from one¡¯s own Power, which involved Elaria bringing Mark and Isoko to a meditation room in her mansion with walls made of sound-eliminating foam. The goal, there, was to become ¡®nothing and no one, not even hearing the sound of your own heartbeat¡¯. It was unnerving to be inside of that room. Mark could not hear his own heartbeat. Everything was muffled. Even standing next to Isoko and Elaria, he had to half-yell to make himself heard.

    Elaria had them focus on stillness.

    Mark had to tap out of that experience after 10 minutes and Isoko was right there with him, and Elaria grinned and told them that both of them lasted longer than usual, which was a good sign.

    ¡°When you can stand being in the silent room for an hour, you¡¯ll have a much easier time understanding your map. It¡¯s not easy to get in touch with one¡¯s own map, but the room helps!¡±

    And then they moved to other rooms and Elaria directed them on astral body stretches, which both Mark and Isoko had already done a lot of.

    ¡°Of course you have! Everyone does,¡± Elaria said, and then with a knowing tone, she asked, ¡°What were you stretching your astral bodies for, though? What exactly, I mean.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°For range on Union, of course, but also to use my adamantium outside of the limitations of physical form. To spin a blade fast enough for flight.¡±

    ¡°A kinetic¡¯s flight is going to be the easiest for you to achieve, yes, but we¡¯ll get you something better eventually. How about you, Isoko?¡±

    Isoko answered, ¡°For range and breadth of capability. My Union range is nothing like Mark¡¯s, but stretching Union has helped with Platinum Body¡¯s Tactile Telekinesis, and that¡¯s just been so useful.¡±

    At that moment, Mark realized that when the gods granted Powers to their people, they were probably changing the maps of their astral bodies. Like a Skiller for the Empire, a mage, or any number of other people. The gods directly altered a person¡¯s map, and then reinforced that altering so that it did not decay like normal magic decayed when used.

    Elaria nodded, and then spoke of an interesting fact, ¡°The capabilities of Skills grow over time, and with use. This much is known. Stretching the astral body is like working muscles, and in the work, the muscles improve. You alter your maps naturally if you use your Skills in new and different ways. This is the normal way of things for all Awakened people. In this way, practice is like working out at the gym. Work those biceps or thighs or shoulders, and so on and so forth.

    ¡°Magery is steroids.

    ¡°Magery is giving you access to the way your muscles work, allowing you to pump up the natural human growth hormone in the body, or any number of other ways in which you might strengthen yourself in a permanent way. Forget working for years to get bigger bench presses. Just make yourself more capable, directly!

    ¡°But, understandably, casting magic could lead to death if you do it wrong.

    ¡°So, for now, I want you to feel the way in which you stretch yourself, and how it works inside, and meditate on that stretch. Eventually, you will be able to feel your Binding. Once you can feel-see-touch your binding, we will proceed with mapping.

    ¡°It is a slow process, and this is just the start of it all, but you¡¯ll get there. I know you will.¡± Elaria looked to Mark and added, ¡°You¡¯ll probably learn how to fly with adamantium propellers and proper wing-shapes long before you learn how to adjust your Binding. This is normal.¡± She looked to Isoko. ¡°You will likely learn Protect long before you¡¯re ready for flight magics. Such is the nature of Platinum Body. But with Platinum Body, you¡¯ll be set for learning a great deal of other magics. I cannot teach you more than Flight and Protect, though. I am telling you now, Isoko: You need to think about making a deal with Grand Mage Solari to learn more than what I can teach you, because you will go far. Platinum Body is incredibly good for magery, and you will eventually find out why.¡±

    Mark nodded, loving the idea of flight-through-kinesis, even if it was janky for now. That¡¯s how he was planning on flying, anyway.

    Isoko steeled herself for the long, long road ahead, but she seemed thrilled that her future held more power than most. She just really wanted flight for now, though.

    ¡°Let us continue.¡± Elaria smiled a little, and then she raised her arms high, Mark and Isoko mirrored her, and Elaria continued, ¡°Raise the arms! Push your astral self as far as you can in that direction, and now lower to the ground¡­¡±

    An hour later, Mark and Isoko were sweating with an odd sense of strain that both of them hadn¡¯t experienced in a long time. It was Power fatigue, and a deep one at that. They only used Union to heal themselves at the end, because Elaria asked them to refrain from healing in the middle of the session. Even after healing, though, the strain didn¡¯t vanish like most strain. The Power fatigue was still there.

    Mark asked about that.

    ¡°It¡¯s not too bad, is it?¡± Elaria asked, over another set of cookies and a pot of tea.

    ¡°Well¡­ No,¡± Mark admitted. But it did feel odd to feel weak at all. Mark felt like he was 17 again and he had lifted too many weights that day, or he had done too much on the field. Too many tackles, too many strains. But in a kinda-good way. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad feeling.¡± Mark looked at his forearm as he made a fist, and he felt¡­ worn out. ¡°Just a deep fatigue?¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Like a hard run, before I Awakened. Or after healing people for several hours.¡±

    ¡°Yes, like that,¡± Mark said.

    Elaria nodded. ¡°Skill fatigue is pretty normal for most people. Union users are lucky in that they can heal that astral body weakness, but most people feel what you¡¯re feeling right now practically all the time when out in the field. As long as that¡¯s all it is, then you¡¯re fine.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    Isoko made a small hum of agreement.

    ¡°If you feel weak in another 30 minutes, then you might have cause for concern, but you were doing a whole new series of stretches. Rest and relax, and prepare yourself to do this every single day, and to know that this was nothing compared to what is to come.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Mark was already feeling strained, but¡­

    Mark said, ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

    Elaria grinned. ¡°All of this was preparatory work that you can do on your own, and which you are expected to do on your own. Stretch high, then low, then left and right then forward and back. These are the Six Ways, as I explained earlier. And then you do the Six Ways again and again until you feel strained again. And then, you do a little bit more. When you¡¯re done, take a break and heal naturally as much as you are able. Union is great for healing the astral body, but you need to feel your weakness before you can feel your Binding. As you heal, and as you stress yourself again and again, you will eventually uncover your Binding. Try to refrain from healing in the middle of a session, though. That delays self discovery.¡± Elaria said, ¡°Eventually, when you are able to see your Binding, we can begin with the Forms and with mapping.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°Does Union¡¯s ability to heal astral strain impact Opening the Bindings?¡±

    Mark thought that was a very weird question. It shouldn¡¯t, right?

    Elaria surprised Mark by nodding slightly, and saying, ¡°Yes and no. Some would say yes, it impacts the process, because breakthroughs to understanding your Binding usually happen when you¡¯re at your weakest and you need to do just a little bit more. Take the standard example of a soldier stressed from a war and then needing to eke out just a bit more from his Skill or he will die, and thus, in the delirium of battle, he learns his Binding and what he can really do. A Shaper breaking the physical-astral connection and spinning metal truly fast would be a common battle-level breakthrough.

    ¡°In being pushed to the brink you can find yourself. This much is very true.

    ¡°But! Most people die when they are that strained.

    ¡°So, being strong all the time is also fine, and some Skills don¡¯t allow their users to become weak at all through normal means. So those people, like you and Mark, need to learn how to find your Binding while remaining strong.¡± Elaria changed the subject, saying, ¡°But that¡¯s enough for today! What are you two kids going to do for the rest of the day? I suggest some sleep and relaxation, but you two strike me more as the kind who wants to go out and fight something.¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re both buying things from the Artificer¡¯s Guild,¡± Mark said.

    Elaria¡¯s eyes brightened, and then she smiled, asking, ¡°What are you getting? I love talking about magical items.¡±

    Mark smiled a little and found it easy to talk about the stuff he wanted to get. Isoko seemed the same way as she spoke about buying a hoverbelt, even if she couldn¡¯t use it properly.

    ¡°I still want one,¡± Isoko said, quite firmly.

    ¡°Flying never gets old!¡± Elaria said, happily.

    Soon enough they finished off the tea and Elaria had Sekail pack the cookies into a bag for them, which she insisted upon. Elaria instructed them to do more stretches every single day until the next meeting, which she tentatively scheduled for next week.

    Elaria added, ¡°But winter will be here in another week or so, so we might be snowed in! I hope not. There¡¯s still a lot to be done. I¡¯ll let you know when the next meeting is.¡±

    Mark and Isoko had both heard about the vagaries of weather on Daihoon. It was currently deep winter on Earth, at Memphi, right on the other side of the Veil, but here on Daihoon, it felt like spring. None of the trees were bare and all of the land was full green, or otherwise lively. That could change, though, and rapidly.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is the weather of Daihoon really that weird?¡±

    Elaria laughed. ¡°Earth weather is the weird weather. It¡¯s all based on wind moving around and heat from the oceans and rivers? And on the tilt of the axis of the Earth? No no. Here the weather is much simpler. When the ice auroras are in the sky, then it is winter, and you can tell how bad it will be based on the density of the ice auroras in the sky.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°That seems weird to me.¡±

    Elaria chuckled.

    Soon enough, Mark and Isoko were at the door to Valen Manor, bowing at their instructor.

    Elaria smiled and bid them farewell, and then they left Valen Manor.

    They had made no progress toward understanding their Binding today, but that was normal¡ª

    ¡°Oh!¡± Isoko said, pointing toward the north. ¡°That must be winter approaching! Ha!¡±

    Mark looked toward the north.

    Tendrils of ice blue light snaked through the aurora sky, just above the blue half of the heavens. The light barely stood out against the normal blue, but they were there, and they were headed this way. Slowly.

    Very, very slowly¡­

    Were they moving at all?

    Mark asked, ¡°Wonder how long those have been there? Never noticed them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not moving?¡±

    Mark held out Quark and pointed him at the sky, asking, ¡°Is winter approaching the settlement, Quark?¡±

    Quark¡¯s screen flickered silver as he came fully online. He glowed. And then his camera activated to take an image of the sky. A few seconds later, Quark said, ¡°Winter will be approaching this location in approximately 7 to 10 days. Based on current atmospheric conditions, expect 8 to 10 centimeters of snow per day, with an average temperature of -10¡ã to 2¡ã.¡±

    ¡°Snow!¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Freezing temps sound like snow to me,¡± Isoko said, grinning a little.

    Mark put away Quark, saying, ¡°I¡¯m so glad the snow doesn¡¯t bother me as much as I thought it would.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Florida boy!¡± Isoko said, grinning wider, doing a little hop as she walked down the street, toward the tram. ¡°I love the snow.¡±

    She was in a good mood.

    Mark smiled.

    He was in a good mood, too.

    Mark asked, ¡°Want to go check out artifacts?¡±

    ¡°Gods yes!¡±

 171

    ¡°Your total comes to 73,200 points, Mark,¡± Julie Sacredcut said, with a smile. ¡°I know you¡¯ll be happy with all of it!¡±

    ¡°I think so, too,¡± Mark said, though he was unsure.

    Mark was alone with Julie in her office of the Artificer¡¯s Guild, while Isoko was outside on the sales floor, trying to make a decision between the 37,000 point hoverbelt that would last a long time, and which was marketed as ¡®flight on a belt!¡¯, or the 12,000 point belt which was pretty good at flight, but needed to be taken off before battle.

    Mark had splurged but the belt he had chosen was only 8,000 points, because he didn¡¯t want to get complacent. Even with that cheaper option, though, the incidentals added up fast, and the final amount was both deadening and exhilarating.

    There were a lot of things Mark had discovered about himself in the last year, and it was weird to discover that he hated spending money a lot more than he thought he should.

    Buying all this stuff today was like the first time he had signed up for his ablative plate armor subscription, or the first time he had bought a nice spear¡­ and then instantly lost the spear in a battle, so he had gone for the plain spear with alchemical silver coatings instead. It had hurt to lose that first good spear. At least he hadn¡¯t spent good money on armor back then. Real armor for non-TT people was fucking expensive and there was no way he was spending money on that sort of stuff. Even still, the subscription was horrifically expensive.

    And now Mark was spending money again, and it felt bad again.

    But look at what he had bought!

    He had two different magic rings, a hoverbelt for 8k, the spellbreaker of course, at 25k and the most expensive single object here, and one really neat Shaper-specific ¡®armor maker¡¯ that he couldn¡¯t wait to get home and try with his adamantium. The Shaper-thingy was 20k on its own, but it would last a while, because he wouldn¡¯t be using it in battle at all. It was a harness that went around the upper chest and, when he activated it, it would help him with both visualizing the armor he wanted to make out of adamantium, and then help him make that armor. And, of course, Mark had to replace his webweave underarmor.

    Mark¡¯s stuff had all been ruined in the fight with Shroomer.

    He also had an assortment of ¡®forging with biometals¡¯ manuals that were for sale for anyone who wanted one, but they were all mithril-based books. There had been no off-the-shelf manual for adamantium forging, but Julie had gotten one printed out from the book binding machine they had in the back when Mark had asked for adamantium options.

    Julie smiled a little as she looked down at the purchases, and then she gestured at the books, saying, ¡°I¡¯ll repeat that those books are only the ones we¡¯re allowed to sell. You can get better adamantium forging information online, though the veracity of that information is questionable, at best.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°I know. That¡¯s what Armsmaster Tulo Khava told me.¡±

    ¡°Have you done much forging?¡± Julie asked, with incredible restraint.

    Mark could tell she wanted adamantium to experiment with, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen for various reasons. Just to be sure, though, Mark asked again, ¡°I have extra adamantium that I¡¯d like made into tools for me, if you can do that? I can pay points.¡±

    Mark had approached that question earlier in the transaction, when Julie¡¯s gaze lingered on Mark¡¯s forearms and legs where his adamantium held, and her vector had been threaded with want. But just like the first time Mark had asked¡ª

    ¡°No no,¡± Julie said, shaking her head. ¡°I can¡¯t. I want to, but I can¡¯t. ¡®No adamantium trading at all¡¯. That¡¯s the official law, handed down by Aurora herself last week. None of us really believed it, but¡­¡± She added, ¡°I got a warning when I printed out the book for you. Like I said. So I¡¯m steering clear of that. I can¡¯t make adamantium stuff for you, or anyone else, not that I even could!¡± She chuckled nervously. ¡°I¡¯ve never worked with the stuff at all!¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t like that Julie was being pressured when it came to his own adamantium, but¡­ Mark tried, ¡°It¡¯s not trading in adamantium. It¡¯s trading for labor.¡±

    Julie¡¯s desire spiked¡­ And then she breathed out, shuddering with slight emotional pain. ¡°Can¡¯t do it. Won¡¯t do it. Sorry, Mark.¡± She brightened. ¡°So let¡¯s get this all packed up?¡±

    Mark picked up the rings, saying, ¡°Everything but these.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t have something like those yet,¡± Julie said, grinning, as she wrapped up the hoverbelt. ¡°I¡¯m glad I could talk you into the second one.¡±

    The first ring was a simple Ring of Repair Clothes. It would only really function with webweave, or other skin-tight things, but even if all it did was repair webweave then that would be a great improvement from Mark¡¯s current situation. Mark¡¯s normal tendency was to end up nude if there was a lot of fire or other burning/melting substances in the air, and he was quite tired of that.

    The other ring, the one Julie had suggested, was a Ring of No-Wealth, Metal edition, which would hide his metallic wealth from all metal-type wealth scanners. There were as many different types of Rings of No-Wealth as there were ways to scan for that nebulous category of ¡®thing¡¯ known as ¡®wealth¡¯. This particular type of No-Wealth ring would hide all of Mark¡¯s adamantium, which would give him a slight bit of anonymity back¡­ or at least it would stop people from seeing that Mark¡¯s amount of adamantium increased at metal-blooded rates.

    Rings of No-Wealth were apparently a popular item for all the mithril blooded people out there, and it worked similarly on adamantium as it did on mithril. And on goldleaf and plain gold and silver and all the other metals out there. It was also a solid artifact for tinkerers of all kinds to wear, too, so that they could walk around with their metal contraptions and not be pinged by the most common of wealth scanners.

    Both rings were not an option on Earth at all. They¡¯d break if Mark took them back. Mark¡¯s Shaper armor helper was similar. The hoverbelt and the spellbreaker were the only things that would survive on Earth, but even then they¡¯d have reduced functionality. Mark would have to leave most of it in his apartment when he went back to Earth for any length of time at all.

    None of this was cheap, either!

    Over 7,500 for the Repair ring and 11,000 for the No-Wealth ring.

    It hurt to spend that much, and yet, if Mark wanted to, he could have spent a lot more.

    Julie added, ¡°There are better wealth-hiding options if you want one; Generalized obscurers that don¡¯t take up finger space.¡±

    ¡°Nope! These ones are good,¡± Mark said, as he looked at the little silver rings on his fingers.

    ¡°They will break on Earth, just to remind you.¡±

    Mark grinned a little. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re happy with them, then. Your webweave reorder will be in by tomorrow.¡± Julie set his packed bag down in front of him. ¡°Have you considered any sort of signage on your suits?¡±

    ¡°I have, actually,¡± Mark said, surprised at the turn of conversation. Julie liked villains, though, so it wasn¡¯t that surprising in retrospect. ¡°But that would be ¡®engaging in the Hero/Villain Program¡¯ and even before Aurora told me not to do that I was already slow-rolling the HVP.¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course. You were sort of¡­ forced into the Villain role.¡±

    Mark grinned because what else was he going to do. ¡°Yup.¡±

    ¡­ Julie hesitated with what she was going to say next, but she decided to say it anyway, ¡°Tartu is planning on ambushing you with a Wand of Destruction. It¡¯s not going to be pretty.¡±

    A moment.

    And then...

    Disbelief, and anger.

    Mark tentatively asked, ¡°Ambush?¡±

    ¡°On the 20th of March. Not right away. Even he isn¡¯t stupid enough to flaunt Aurora¡¯s commands that much. But yes; he is making plans.¡±

    Anger burbled, but the threat wasn¡¯t here. Wasn¡¯t knocking on his door. It was down the road a bit, but it was coming this way. Mark had time. But as Mark evaluated himself and how he felt, he realized he was still mad.

    Furious.

    Mark practically spat, ¡°That asshole spent 47 hours in lockdown instead of 48, too, and I¡¯m not even sure he did that because my AI could have been¡­ You know what? It¡¯s fine.¡± He added, ¡°It¡¯s fine if he is planning on doing something next month. I¡¯m¡­¡± Mark hadn¡¯t been planning on anything at all on March 20th, but seeing as February was already here, maybe he should have been planning for the HVP stuff. Tartu obviously was. Mark shrugged. ¡°I have no plans so far. Maybe I should make some. Got any suggestions¡ª Wait.¡± Mark needed information. ¡°What¡¯s a Wand of Destruction? Is he planning on¡­¡±

    Mark suddenly wasn¡¯t sure if Tartu was planning on murdering him, or what.

    Mark asked, ¡°On murdering me?¡±

    ¡°Oh gods no! It¡¯s not murder,¡± Julie said, chuckling, and not very nervously at all. In a moment of joyful conspiracy, Julie looked around her empty office and at the open door leading to the sales floor, and lowered her voice to say, ¡°Wands of Destruction dispel effects on a person, which includes all magical items. Weaker artifacts just break. One of those wands will break the spellbreaker, too, but the breaker is repairable.¡± She waved a hand, dismissive, as though she hadn¡¯t just ruined Mark¡¯s day, adding, ¡°He might not even use it, but we¡¯re allowed to see who buys what at the market and he bought all the kel-essence again ¡ªemptied the market again, the prick!¡ª and that means big things. With the mithril purchases and a few other things he got, he¡¯s making a Wand of Destruction. Of course he could be making anything but Wands of Destruction are a common thesis-level artifact, and he¡¯s going for his Artificer¡¯s Guild accreditation, and that fits the profile of his purchases. I made one of those for my accreditation and I think he¡¯s making one, too.¡±

    ¡°¡­ He¡¯s gonna break all the shit I just bought today, isn¡¯t he.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± With another joyful tone, Julie added, ¡°But you can counter ambush and then take him for everything, and if you do, it will be glorious! So very glorious! Steal that wand, Mark! It¡¯s so fucking expensive! So, so expensive!¡±

    She cackled.

    Cackled! Like a witch, or¡­ or rather like a villain.

    Mark temporarily forgot his anger, as he was caught up in Julie¡¯s mirth.

    Mark found himself saying, ¡°That¡¯s a good villain laugh.¡±

    Julie¡¯s face heated up as she came down from her joy, saying, ¡°Oh. Uh¡­ Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Is there a way to defend against the Wand of Destruction?¡±

    ¡°Yes, if you can Tactile Telekinesis. So. You know.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah. Fuck.¡±

    ¡°I know the feeling!¡± Julie tried to be comforting and dismissive of the threat at the same time, as she said, ¡°He probably won¡¯t even use it on you. Those things would be worth 200k points if we were allowed to sell them, but no one is going to make them. They¡¯re Sentinel-gear. They¡¯re only useful against other people or, like, especially terrible goblins. That¡¯s their main use, and why they¡¯re not simply outlawed like some types of artifacts. But if you can manage to steal it from him then you can pay the 95% HVP tax with adamantium since you get extra from your bro¡ª Ah! Isoko! Did you make a decision on the belt?¡±

    Mark had noticed Isoko coming this way, but now Isoko was stepping into Julie¡¯s office/salesroom.

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m going with the 8,000 point belt because I don¡¯t want to get complacent with that solution¡ª¡±

    Mark nodded; that was his own reasoning, too.

    ¡°¡ªBut what were you talking about?¡± Isoko asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°That was a good villain laugh.¡±

    ¡°I was telling Mark about Tartu¡¯s plan for a Wand of Destruction ambush! It¡¯s a dastardly thing¡­¡±

    Isoko was confused, and then she got mad, too, but soon enough they were packing up Isoko¡¯s selections and then walking out of Julie¡¯s office, and thanking her for her tip.

    Mark paused ten meters out the front door. It was just him and Isoko right now, here under the sun outside of Castle South.

    Isoko stopped and turned back. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking¡­ She¡¯s been really helpful. But¡­ It¡¯s weird. I normally trust people, and yet.¡± Mark looked at his bag of stuff, and he knew it would not break under normal circumstances, but Julie had started off their relationship as their caseworker by telling them that items broke all the time. And here now was Julie telling them about Tartu. Again, actually. This was the second time Julie had talked about Tartu being an asshole. Mark openly wondered, ¡°Should I try to make her more of an ally, or¡­ or what?¡±

    ¡°Ahhh,¡± Isoko said, seeing what he was saying. ¡°I was keeping her at a short distance, but she and her sister are pretty good at what they do.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Grandma always said that money makes good acquaintances until someone with more money comes around, but Julie is an artificer, so money isn¡¯t what she really wants.¡±

    Ah.

    Mark understood what Isoko was getting at.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Isoko waited outside as Mark turned around and went back into Castle South, to the Artificer¡¯s Guild.

    Julie was still in her office.

    Julie raised an eyebrow. ¡°Something you forgot?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Mark put a small cube of adamantium on the table in front of Julie, and said, ¡°A tip. Thanks for the help.¡±

    Julie¡¯s eyes boggled at the bit of metal, but then she turned professional and smiled gently. She was bursting with joy on the inside, though. With a deft hand she palmed the black metal, saying, ¡°I¡¯m always glad to help, Mark! Let me know if you need anything at all. Special projects are just a commission or two away and though I cannot work with your adamantium, anything in the entire catalogue of options is available, and for good prices!¡±

    ¡°Glad to have you onboard, Julie. I¡¯m sure that adamantium restriction won¡¯t last forever and kaiju farming is a few years away, anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do.¡±

    Julie¡¯s joy seemed to crystallize into something a lot deeper, and yet fragile. Her mask of professionalism was a fractured thing under the weight of Mark¡¯s words. Her voice wavered, ¡°I under¡­ stand.¡±

    Mark nodded and walked away.

    He was surprised at himself, being able to say something like that, but it had felt right to say, and it felt even more right when Julie reacted like she had. Mark was two steps past the doorway of the artificer¡¯s guild when he felt Julie¡¯s vector shudder and her joy return, but it was a subdued sort of thing. Unsure, and yet still there.

    Mark smiled and walked on, joining Isoko outside.

    Isoko walked beside Mark, saying, ¡°She¡¯s not an ally yet, but she could be.¡±

    Mark nodded, thinking about¡ª

    With much more excitement in her voice, Isoko asked, ¡°So I almost left you behind because I want to take this belt out right now so hurryandcatchmeifyoucan!¡± Isoko bolted for Castle One, glittering footsteps propelling her fast across the grass.

    No time to think about allies and stuff like that!

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    There was flying to be done!

    Mark hurried to catch up.

    Soon, they had thrown their stuff into their rooms and put on their belts. Isoko¡¯s belt was a belt for a brawny, so it was different from Mark¡¯s. Hers had some Tactile Telekinesis-enabled controls in the flight center located on the buckle of the belt. Mark¡¯s belt had some switches that he could press with flecks of adamantium, but the belt was made out of basic steel and Mark knew that flying would toss him around, and he¡¯d break the (relatively) fragile controls. So Julie had hooked him up with a solution; a special glove with wires and sensors that would move him based on how he worked the glove.

    Mark flexed his hand in the glove, tapping his thumb and pinky together twice. According to the instructions, that movement would turn the belt on, and sure enough his belt flickered on, lights illuminating down the edges of the metal and around the buckle. It was blue, because that¡¯s the color he had set it for.

    Isoko¡¯s belt glowed pink, because that¡¯s what she wanted.

    Neither of them had revved up the belts. They had just turned them on. Mark and Isoko remained on the floor of their apartment.

    Mark¡¯s stomach was already tumbling with anticipation.

    Isoko was feeling a similar way.

    Both of them looked at each other, and they giggled.

    And then Isoko bolted outside, into the sun, and Mark followed.

    Isoko lifted just a little, her vector soaring far in front of where she actually was.

    And then she tilted. Face down, feet up, her face went right into the grass. She was laughing even as she recovered, flopping and rolling and getting back on her feet.

    Mark must have pressed the wrong button on his, too, squeezing his glove wrong, because he tilted left and everything kinda went right, and then he was on the ground, too, spinning feet over face, laughing.

    They¡¯d figure it out!

    - -

    Julie sat at her workstation at Sacredcut Manor, at the settlement.

    The tiny metal cube sat before her, a blot of black atop the steel.

    It was blacker than darkest night, and it weighed way too much for its size.

    Adamantium.

    And it was hers.

    It was worth about 12 million goldleaf, but she couldn¡¯t sell it. She might have gotten away from the office with it, but if she actually tried to sell it then someone would show up at her door ¡ªprobably the ¡®scout leader¡¯ and definitely-not-spymaster Yoro Whisperwind¡ª and she did not want that. She didn¡¯t want to sell the adamantium, anyway. She wanted¡ª

    The door opened and Julie almost panicked, but it was just Barba. Julie had sent her a message to come home as soon as possible, and now she was here. Nothing was wrong!

    Not yet.

    Barba looked at Julie, and then at Uncle to the side, and then down at the metal on the table, and she gasped a little. She rushed into the room and closed the door behind her, whispering, ¡°Were you seen?¡±

    ¡°Undoubtedly,¡± Uncle said.

    Julie was less certain, but Uncle was fully certain, and caution was a good thing to exercise right now.

    Julie said, ¡°Someone probably saw something before I switched out my general obscurer for a No-Metal torc, but if someone saw then they didn¡¯t say anything. Aurora would be here, otherwise.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s busy,¡± Uncle said. ¡°She will not respond to every little thing, but we are in a warzone. People see everything here.¡±

    Uncle Sacredcut was the head of the family, here at the settlement. Grandfather was the true head, back at Crytalis, but Grandpa wasn¡¯t here. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever! Uncle, Julie, and Barba, all hoped that this settlement would be the new start to their languishing family fortunes, and they were lucky to get this assignment because, yes, this place was a good place to be. If this place actually managed to become a Twin City to Memphi, like everyone wanted, then the whole family might relocate¡­ Mostly.

    For now, the only people who lived here in this ¡®manor¡¯ were Barba, Uncle, Julie, and their knights. It was less of a manor and more of a very large workshop, mostly for Uncle and Julie, but this place had a lot going for it already.

    If this thing worked out, then they¡¯d make the place bigger. Better.

    And here was their first big break.

    This little bit of adamantium.

    This¡­ monumental amount of adamantium, really.

    In any normal time, this little bit of metal here would be a fortune, but, this was not a normal time, and there was a lot more adamantium out there than Julie could imagine. A ¡®whole dragon back¡¯ full of the stuff. And a younger talzarki brother who carried around kilos of the stuff.

    Julie said, ¡°I never imagined he would give it out as a tip.¡±

    ¡°A tip!¡± Barba squawked. And then she asked, ¡°A tip? Is that legal? Does that count under the adamantium trade ban, or not?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not sure. Seems like a ¡®no¡¯, for now.¡± Uncle said to Julie, ¡°I¡¯m glad you convinced him to buy a No-Metal ring.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t take much convincing,¡± Julie stated.

    Barba looked at both of them, asking, ¡°General Aurora really isn¡¯t going to show up? She seemed¡­ truly intent on locking down adamantium transfers.¡±

    ¡°She has more leeway than we thought,¡± Uncle said. ¡°Duchess Valen is teaching the boy and his friend magic, too¡­¡± He had more to say, but he stopped himself.

    Barba and Julie looked at Uncle, who was still silent and contemplating something.

    Julie said, ¡°Someone saw what happened, for sure, but I still took it, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± Uncle said, and then he plucked the adamantium from the table. He observed it, then he flicked down his jeweler¡¯s lenses over his left eye to observe the dark metal even deeper. ¡°High quality. Pure adamantium. Of course he¡¯s an adamantiumkinetic, so yes, it is pure¡­ so very¡­ pure¡­¡± Silence. After a deep moment, Uncle set the metal back down in front of Julie as he flipped his lenses back up with his other hand, asking, ¡°So what now?¡±

    Barba asked, ¡°Sell it?¡±

    ¡°Gods no,¡± Julie said, while Uncle gruffly said, ¡°No.¡±

    Barba shut her mouth.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make something of it,¡± Julie said.

    Uncle nodded.

    Barba waited.

    Julie stared at the black metal again. ¡°¡­ Should I make something for him?¡± She looked up at her family.

    Silence.

    And then,

    Uncle asked, ¡°In the hopes of more metal, later?¡±

    Julie left the question unanswered. But maybe? She wasn¡¯t sure what to do now. She had been one of many different hopefuls at the Artificer¡¯s Guild, at this new settlement, hoping for big breaks and bigger paydays, and to get to work with materials that weren¡¯t so tightly controlled like all of the materials you could buy in Crytalis. Here at the settlement, and eventually as a node to connect Earth to Daihoon, the trade would flow, and everyone who lived here, who participated, would make fortunes large enough to buy whole kingdoms.

    Julie had gotten randomly assigned to be Mark¡¯s caseworker, which had been a total fluke, but maybe not. When Mark came in the assigning system fritzed and it declared two different people to be Mark¡¯s caseworkers. Those people, or others nearby, had messed with the system to create that outcome. So the system got reset, but because those people could have been victims of the conspiracy to move assigned cases around, they were left in the selection.

    And then Julie got Mark¡¯s assignment.

    That was her first big break. And then Mark had asked for help with points, and Julie assigned Barba to be his Harvester, which had been the second big break for the family.

    And now they were here.

    And Julie was staring down at a small lump of adamantium, with Uncle¡¯s question on her mind.

    What did she hope for, here? For more adamantium? Or for¡­ for what?

    To make a strong ally?

    ¡­ Yes.

    Even with the threat of kaiju looming in Mark¡¯s future, yes, Julie wanted to make a strong ally, here and now. But she didn¡¯t want to be used, either. She had to play this right.

    Barba watched.

    Uncle asked, ¡°What kind of relationship do you want to foster with him? The kind where he gives you metal and you make things for him, which is him using you, or the kind where you get vastly overpaid for your work?¡±

    Barba watched.

    Julie hummed only a little. ¡°I¡¯m good with being vastly overpaid.¡±

    Barba quietly asked, ¡°But you can¡¯t sell it?¡±

    ¡°Of course not, dear,¡± Uncle said. ¡°But she can be first in line for monster parts, and you can be right there with Mark and his team collecting those monster parts, and if Mark doesn¡¯t desire a mate, then perhaps Eliot does. We all saw him last night at that party. How do you feel about asking Eliot on a date?¡±

    Barba paled a little as the severity of the situation started circling her. She went silent.

    Uncle left Barba with her existential crisis as he looked back to Julie, asking again, ¡°What are you going to make for yourself?¡±

    ¡°I never thought I would ever be able to work in adamantium at all,¡± Julie said. ¡°I know the theories, but¡­ But anything I make would be an experiment. I could use up all of this and not have anything left over for making¡­ anything at all.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t sell it, so you can only use it, so do what you can, Julie. I have faith.¡± And then Uncle started rambling off options, ¡°Ring of Ultimate Protection, Anklet of Surety, a simple edge to a Sword of Slicing, a tip for any number of the Great Wands which the Solari scion already demonstrated is possible¡­¡±

    Uncle spoke of small, adamantium-based items, and Julie listened to those options, trying to decide.

    Barba spoke up, ¡°I could use a Great Wand. I like the Great Wand option.¡±

    Julie stated, ¡°I¡¯m not sending you out into the wilds with the first thing I ever make out of adamantium...¡± She stared at the black metal, adding, ¡°But maybe the next one, or the one after that?¡±

    Barba countered, ¡°Great Wands have multiple uses. Just use it ten times before I get it.¡±

    Julie frowned a little, humming discontent¡ª

    Uncle spoke, ¡°Make a Great Wand of Ice Clouds. That¡¯s a well known option, listed tens of times in the Grand Archives. Unless Solari is drawing from different archives ¡ªwhich is possible but unlikely based on the distribution of shredding ice clouds as seen in that video¡ª then the Great Wand of Ice Clouds in the Grand Archive is the one that Tartu made. It¡¯s one of the least expensive options, using the least amount of adamantium, and I doubt Tartu got more than this amount of adamantium here. Aurora took almost all of it.¡±

    ¡­ Not a bad option, Julie thought.

    Barba softly said, ¡°I¡¯d like to freeze a monster and be able to run away.¡±

    Julie would like that, too. Julie asked Uncle, ¡°You ever made one before?¡±

    ¡°Nope, but you graduated fourth in your entire class, Julie. I have faith.¡±

    ¡°I do, too,¡± Barba said.

    Julie breathed deep, and then she picked up the adamantium. ¡°A Grand Wand of Ice Clouds, then? Sounds... viable.¡±

    Uncle added, ¡°What you really need to think about is what happens when you become a Grand Artificer, and what the Empire will demand of you and yours. That is for the far future, but stepping further down this path will eventually land you there. You would rise to become the next head of the family if you do this correctly, Julie.¡±

    Julie¡¯s heart soared a little.

    And then Julie breathed deep, stood up, and plucked the metal from the table, feeling its weight and hardness in her hand, as she openly decided, ¡°I could be an artificer for the Empire. I have no problem with that.¡±

    Uncle gave one of his rare little grins, and then he walked toward the door, saying to Barba, ¡°Let us speak of any possible romance between you and Cybersong. You didn¡¯t inherit the family magic, but it¡¯s a close thing, and such a match between the Cybersongs and the Sacredcuts might prove fruitful¡­¡±

    Barba¡¯s eyes were wide as Uncle talked, and she forced herself to listen, as the two of them walked out of Julie¡¯s workshop.

    Julie didn¡¯t think anything was going to happen between Barba and Eliot, but they were rather close in age, and¡­ Well. If that worked out, it worked out. Barba would have preferred being ignored in Mark¡¯s harem, though. Being the main wife to Cybersong was probably not in the stars.

    Julie focused on the metal in her palm.

    - - - -

    Flying was funky, but also a lot of fun.

    Mark was already capable of a bit of flight, even if it was more like ¡®invisible tentacle walking¡¯ than actual flight. So right now, as he floated above the grasslands of the settlement, with his adamantium forming fans and stabilizing rudders, the wind in his hair, the land about 50 meters below, Mark was kinda used to this.

    But not really.

    It was so much better to fly free.

    Mark absolutely wanted to be able to do this, for real.

    To soar, to sweep across the plains, to play in the clouds that were still so far above them.

    Isoko was enjoying her flying time, though.

    ¡°WOOOOOOOOO!¡± Isoko screamed, as she whipped across a low tree top.

    Isoko¡¯s joy was like the sun to Mark¡¯s moon.

    She whooped and hollered and zipped back and forth and spun loops before she twisted out of control, just briefly, giggling hysterically, before she got herself back under control and then she leveled out. Only to go sweeping down to the ground, just meters above the long grasses, platinum-shimmering hands touching the blades of grass, before she spun back into the sky, dropping her platinum sheen, the control of her weight doing a lot more for the control of her altitude than any sort of button pressing could ever do.

    She was not in full control of her flight at all.

    But she wanted that control.

    She wanted this freedom.

    Mark kinda just hung out, doing smaller loops, flying high and hanging out, and then flying low.

    He looked out across the wall of the settlement, at the Shine to the west, the forests to the east, the hint of the shroom forest far, far to the south, where kaiju bones stuck up from the ground and the mushrooms were barely seen. To the north was open country.

    Down below were grasslands separated by distant roads and tram tracks, with a river running through it all and a big lake in the center, dotted by islands. Farmlands held over there in the west. Mostly, the settlement was grass.

    Buildings held here and there like seeds planted in soil. Some of those buildings were blooming with life, with expansion, but most were there to be there; to hold people until the people figured out where they were going and what they were doing. Eventually, the apartment castles of the War Quarter would be remade into actual war buildings and also evacuation centers. Eventually, all of those grasslands would be filled with civilization¡ª

    Isoko floated up next to Mark, grinning, asking, ¡°Wha¡¯cha thinkin ¡®bout?¡±

    Mark looked out at the land, and said, ¡°I¡¯m thinking this is a great home.¡±

    Isoko was radiant. ¡°It is, isn¡¯t it.¡±

    ¡°I always wanted to grow up and have the power to go anywhere and do anything, and I think¡­ I¡¯m not there yet, but... We¡¯re getting there, Isoko. We¡¯re getting there.¡±

    Isoko grinned, giggled, and then did a loop through the air, before flying off fast toward the west. ¡°Bet you can¡¯t catch me!¡±

    And then she was racing through the sky, glittering with reflected rainbows on platinum skin, dropping low, grasses parting under her breeze.

    Mark spun up his propellers at the speed of a slow fan, fixed his rudders as well as he could, grinned, and gave chase.

 172

    The walls were too big, the magics on them too dense, and the meatsacks behind the walls too strong.

    It irked.

    That was the sum total of Grax¡¯s opinion on the ¡®human¡¯ settlement; that was as much as he knew about the meatsacks and their true defenses. Not a single infiltrator had made it into the city, and only Old Slave had gotten within touching distance of the walls, and only because Grax had forced him to go, lest he be cast out for cowardice. Grax certainly wasn¡¯t going to go. It was death to approach the wall.

    And so, he stood surrounded by his men, far away from the lights and the massive wall, cloaked in the dark. This was close enough.

    Grax scowled at everything.

    Old Slave should have died when he reached that wall, but of course, he had not died at all. He had survived, and made it back to camp. Grax wanted him dead, but that was not happening.

    Old Slave was anything but a coward. He was smart. He was planning on killing Grax, for sure, but for now, he taught the brothers a lot. Words, mostly. Ideas, too. Old Slave had been able to ¡®ascertain¡¯ the ¡®myriad¡¯ of defenses of the ¡®settlement¡¯ before he had to ¡®disengage¡¯ from the... meat¡­ Hmm. Had to be a better word than ¡®meat¡¯ for meat.

    ¡°Tell me another word for meat, Old Slave,¡± Grax said, to the old one.

    Old Slave said, ¡°Meat as in foodstuffs as in edibles? Or meat as in wombs, stocks? I am fond of ¡®lacuna¡¯ for breeding meat. To sink your teeth into a squealing lacuna, to taint it all and make it more of yourself, is what I imagine true power feels like, but all the time.¡±

    Grax hummed, his fangs dripping a little in his mouth, as he thought of the term ¡®lacuna¡¯.

    ¡­ Maybe that would work, but maybe not.

    Old Slave knew entirely too much, and Grax was rather sure that Old Slave was truly old, truly dangerous, and yet he was here, acting ¡®servile¡¯, so that he could control Grax. To what end, Grax wasn¡¯t sure. Perhaps he was an ¡®infiltrator¡¯ from the goblin lords in the mountains to the far east. Old Slave had called them something specific once or twice, but Grax didn¡¯t care.

    Old Slave was too smart.

    Grax could have gone for the mountains, to claim fresh heritage and the breeding slaves of his progenitor, kept locked up and slaving away at the ¡®estate¡¯, whatever that was, but that would be walking into a land filled with Old Slaves.

    Grax had decided to stay away from the trappings of the Old Goblins. The Elders. Whatever they were called. The Old Goblins would surely kill him just as he had done to his brothers, before his brothers could kill him.

    Grax understood more than Old Slave thought he understood.

    Grax needed to return to the mountains with an army, or not at all.

    He had something of an army already.

    Grax¡¯s goblins lay in the deep grasses all around, hiding from the sensors of the human settlement, layered in cold mud and obscuring blankets. Now that had been a lesson to learn. The humans could see heat. Metal. All sorts of things. Illusions of light were easily seen, if one didn¡¯t also use mud and cold things. Grax could see heat, too, though. He could see a lot.

    The lessons he gained fighting the humans here would prove valuable back home, and everywhere else he went.

    Goblins never went up against the main human cities, but a settlement? This outcropping in the middle of green lands? Where they sent hunters out all the time to gather and grab the land¡¯s bounty?

    This was a valuable target.

    Grax stood tall in the deep grass, layered over with shadows and mud, only his eyes truly visible to the human settlement beyond. It was so bright. So shining. Grax wanted to devour it all.

    Old Slave was in the grasses far underfoot, deep under mud and a weave of shrubbery. Grax wouldn¡¯t have known the old spawn was there if not for certain tricks that Old Slave used to mark himself. Old Slave had planted a bright yellow flower onto the top of his weave, though the flower was dull right now. Old Slave called it a bloodflower, and when the roots were exposed to blood, the flower glowed brightly. It was a potent alchemical thing, used as a mash with an assortment of other plants for healing, so it was valuable in many ways.

    Old Slave used it as a lure, cutting his palm and grasping the roots under the mat when he knew a target was coming his way. Then the flower would light, and the humans would see it and go for it.

    Grax was learning how to do a similar trick with light and shadow itself, which was by far easier than keeping that damned flower alive. But Old Slave always said that solid tricks were better than magic tricks, and according to several tests Grax had made with disposable brothers, Old Slave had been right.

    So Grax wasn¡¯t going to kill him yet¡­ if he even could. Grax wasn¡¯t so sure¡­

    Grax turned to the left, and looked down.

    Old Slave was looking through the grass of his hiding mat, eyes locked with Grax¡¯s.

    For a moment, Grax felt pinned in place. It was a horrible, no-good, bad feeling. The one he got when the claws came too close, when he almost got killed by the black claws back at the camp.

    And then Old Slave blinked, and he whispered, ¡°We getting closer, Master?¡±

    ¡°¡­ No.¡±

    Grax wasn¡¯t sure of his place in the world right now, but he knew that made his teeth leak poison, filling his mouth with the desire to bite. Should he kill Old Slave now? He could do it. Maybe.

    Grax asked Old Slave, ¡°What would happen if we attacked now?¡±

    ¡°We would die. If we took a single human, we would die. If we are not fully prepared for a counter, we will die. We must prepare more. We must do more.¡±

    Grax scoffed at Old Slave¡¯s cowardice. ¡°They would not miss one human. We will take the next one that comes out.¡±

    Old Slave added, ¡°The first time we take a human, they will come for us. We must be sure of who we take.¡±

    Grax spat toxin onto the ground. It burbled on the grass next to Old Slave¡¯s pile of grasses, and Old Slave saw the threat as it was. Grax disdained, ¡°They would truly miss a few hatchlings?¡±

    ¡°They would respond with absolute death,¡± Old Slave said, without fear, though his eyes did glance at the burning grass next to him. And then he looked back up at his Grax, and his eyes held that weight again. ¡°They are not like you and I. When they die, they are gone forever. When we die in service to the Bite, we live again. If we were near an old settlement, one that had been aged out of its warring expansion period, we could take and not worry about responses. But this is a new settlement. They are at war with the world, and we are of the world. If we stand tall, they cut us down.¡±

    Grax frowned. ¡°This place cannot be that new. Look at those walls! They are big. They are fully enchanted, as you already saw. Or are you lying to me, Old Slave?¡±

    ¡°The inside is grasslands and every day a new structure goes up. They have special magics, Master. Special, special magics. If you claim the special one, you will be honored above all others! You would be Elder.¡± Old Slave¡¯s voice turned softer, ¡°If you did the Thresher, you would be there already.¡±

    Grax scowled, asking, ¡°They would truly miss one meatbag?¡±

    ¡°They would, Master. We are lucky the grabber groups failed to grab anyone, and that they all died before they could come back to us.¡±

    Grax was pretty sure that Old Slave had been a traitor, briefly, for some of those grabber groups. He had been the only survivor and all the humans had gotten away, without injury. It was suspicious. Too suspicious.

    ¡­ But Grax couldn¡¯t kill Old Slave yet.

    Grax stared at the city in the distance.

    His fangs dripped with eagerness, but¡­

    Grax needed more goblins before he attacked the city for their meat.

    ¡­ Grax decided he liked the simple word ¡®meat¡¯, the best. Simple was good.

    No war tonight, though. The humans were too prepared.

    Grax asked Old Slave, ¡°What is a word for what a traitor does to his brothers, to prevent the brothers from rising to power?¡±

    Old Slave was quiet, and then he said, ¡° ¡®Sabotage¡¯ is a good word for the action itself. ¡®Treason¡¯ is a different sort of word that means the same, but less physical. More information-based treachery.¡±

    Grax left it at that.

    Grax spoke to his people, hidden everywhere across the hill, ¡°Retreat.¡±

    Grax turned to gloom and flowed away on the wind, through the dark, through the grasses, parting them as he went, not caring that the humans probably saw. Maybe, if Grax provided a target, the humans would make themselves vulnerable on their own, and this time Old Slave wouldn¡¯t be able to ¡®sabotage¡¯ the grabber groups.

    A thousand mounds of grass and mud gradually followed Grax¡¯s departure, like fish swimming in a dark river of grass.

    - -

    A pair of men watched on the monitors as the horde of something departed.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you it has to be those goblins.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s the goblins then they got too smart too fast, and they moved together too well, so it¡¯s probably not them. I bet it¡¯s another hive mind monster.¡±

    A scoff. ¡°I¡¯m going to report it as goblins.¡±

    ¡°Potential goblins. Maybe hive mind goblins. Those guys are always bastards.¡±

    ¡°We can make conflicting reports. You do yours and I¡¯ll do mine¡ª¡±

    A red light flickered on in the middle of the room, followed by a chime and then four different monitors flickered. The kaiju alert went on, and right now the entire city was flickering to full life, lights on in every building. Lights on everywhere. The guys in central command were already on the move, corroborating evidence and checking the big scanners, as the holodisplay in the center of command bloomed to life.

    It was a humanoid gator with four arms and a centaur-like spider-body that opened up along its front, leading to a maw filled with ringed teeth that spanned most of its lower body. Its head was one giant eyeball that floated above the body, disconnected, spinning in every direction to glance and stare, while the body moved below it like a scrabbling, hungry thing. It was already devouring the very ground underneath itself, and then it lifted up and plunged back down, eating more ground with every grasping spider claw/leg/hand.

    It was only about 50-ish meters tall, though, so a small kaiju.

    The command center flicked into high gear and one of the guys flicked a switch, talking about ¡®making the call¡¯ even as he flicked the switch. There were no objections. The kaiju was barely taller than the wall of the settlement itself, so it qualified for the big alarm. Better safe than sorry, anyway. Someone was probably going to complain about the alarm being signaled, but whatever.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Sam Ranger asked, a screen turning on, showing Sam in his room. He was wearing boxers, and that was it, but he was putting on his suit.

    Other cameras popped on in other places, showing the other leaders of the Anti-Kaiju Team. Some were at the bar, drinking. Others were at the docks. All of them were already moving due to the alarm.

    The guy in central spoke to them all, ¡°Kaiju confirmed. 55 meter man-spider centaur-like kaiju malformation coming out of the waters of the Shine, headed up the Bubble River to the settlement. ETA 3 minutes. AIs saying it¡¯s a cat 4. Small, but deceptively powerful. It¡¯s eating everything as it walks, so a devouring-type.¡±

    Cat 4 wasn¡¯t a huge deal. All kaiju were a big deal, yes, but this one wasn¡¯t the biggest of problems at all.

    Sam¡¯s voice was a calm thing as he said, ¡°Heard. I¡¯m heading out. Get Lee to pick me¡ª¡±

    Lights bloomed on the camera feeds as a massive rainbow scattered the heavens and pounded down into the baby kaiju, ripping it apart with twisting light and then grinding the entire thing to meat.

    Aurora was on the job, it seemed.

    The guys in the command center just watched.

    Sam watched from the window of his apartment as the aurora night sky seemed to come down to Daihoon and crush the kaiju and the nearest kilometer to paste. The world broke at the touch of auroras.

    And then the light show stopped.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    And then the lightshow pounded the ground a second time, twisting and breaking and gathering the remains of the monster into a single pulped mass away from the water. A minute later, and the monster was very, very dead.

    Aurora¡¯s voice, but no image, came over the coms, ¡°Send Team Pyro to the remains.¡±

    Sam sounded professionally exhausted as he stared at his own monitors, in his room, ¡°Ma¡¯am. We could have¡­ done that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like devouring types and I¡¯m not letting the young ones do a night raid when there are potential goblins or a hive mind monster beyond the eastern walls.¡±

    Aurora¡¯s voice went away, and the line clicked. She was done.

    With a much more awake voice, Sam said, ¡°Prep Team Pyro, Command. I¡¯ll take them out myself.¡±

    ¡°Aye aye, sir!¡±

    Behind Sam, his kids quietly asked what was wrong, and Sam told them that nothing was wrong. They were cleaning up a kaiju, though, and they could go back to bed. Daddy would be back home in an hour.

    The guys in the command center were already working, sending out messages and orders to those on standby. Soon, they were back to making small talk, because nothing was attacking them right now and every scanner they had was saying the kaiju was very dead.

    ¡°I think it was goblins,¡± said one guy.

    The other guy said, ¡°And I still think it was a hive mind monster.¡±

    Soon, the remains of the kaiju were on fire, burning away into dust to flow away on the wind.

    - -

    Grax stared at the sky, at the place where the world had touched down and then gone back up. His teeth were dry as dust, his heart pounding harder than ever before.

    ¡°And that,¡± Old Slave said, ¡°Is why we take this cautious.¡±

    They were not yet back to camp.

    Eventually, they got moving again.

    When they got closer to home, Grax¡¯s teeth were leaking again.

    Fear was replaced with awe, and now, with desire.

    Grax did not know who to bite, to transform and birth the new ones, but he knew that before he died he would die trying to bite whatever human did that bright light magic. Grax flickered the light around him, causing sputtered blue and brown and then bad yellow light to appear.

    Bah!

    He promised himself that his next life would be born from much brighter light.

    - -

    ¡°There¡¯s a potential goblin infestation east of the city, or it could be a hive monster,¡± Barba Sacredcut said, ¡°I tend to err on the side of caution, though, so I¡¯m going to act as though it¡¯s hive mind goblins. Be aware of the issue¡­ Please be aware¡­ Listen to me, please?¡±

    The team wasn¡¯t listening to her.

    It was noon, sun in the sky, and Barba and the team-she-was-escorting-today were doing final checks at the eastern exit to the settlement.

    It was her and some True Brawny team leader, with his three supporters. The True Brawny had never been hurt in his life, but not for lack of monsters. The Marksman who could kill any monster she saw. The Spotter could see every monster before it got there. And they were all normal warriors. Nothing really special about them.

    The only person who was worth a damn was Onoho, the ¡®healer¡¯.

    Onoho was the only one listening to her.

    Onoho could wipe the wounds off of a person as though he were wiping jam off toast. It was disgusting to watch, but it was highly effective. He could even repair armor or anything non-magical, according to the documents Barba got for the hunt.

    Onoho¡¯s Skill was called ¡®Wipe Away¡¯, and it was one of the best non-divine healing-capable Skills Barba had ever seen. Onoho was a bit weird, being an islander, but he was going to go far. The Armsmaster, Tulo Khava, was an islander, too. Those people respected strange lands and stranger monsters. He was a survivor, and he was rather attractive with that dark skin and black hair.

    Onoho¡¯s team would be dead within the year. Onoho would survive, Barba was sure, but the others?

    Barba didn¡¯t know how to make the others listen.

    The ¡®team leader True Brawny¡¯ lightly touched his gunner woman¡¯s ass, as he whispered into her ear, and she giggled at him. The Spotter was furious with both of them because of some relationship drama that Barba didn¡¯t want to think about too deeply. Jealous, probably.

    Barba coughed, trying to get their attention.

    They did not pay attention.

    Onoho looked at his teammates and frowned a little. He told Barba, ¡°We have fought together a lot. We know goblins and monsters. Please continue.¡±

    Barba tried to continue, ¡°It¡¯s a half hour run to the dragonoid fields, and when we get there we do not kill them. We are going to harvest them for parts, and then Onoho is going to heal them, and we walk away¡­¡± Barba paused. The True Brawny was thumbing his girl¡¯s waistband and she was pushing into his fingers, and Barba continued, but different, ¡°If you do not listen to me, then I am walking home right now.¡±

    The guy straightened up and looked right at Barba, smoothly saying, ¡°We got the explanation already, Barba. Thank you. I heard you were mostly quiet, not that you were talkative all the time.¡±

    The Marksman put her hand on her rifle strap, saying, ¡°We¡¯re good to go, Barba. I got my tranq rounds and I know how to use them and we¡¯ve done this before.¡±

    Onoho smiled, trying to play mediator, saying, ¡°We went out with Ja¡¯Nael four days ago. We know the lands.¡±

    ¡­ Barba supposed that was true, and yet...

    Barba looked at all of them once more.

    ¡­ And then she turned and walked down the stairs of the eastern gate, down into the monster lands outside of the walls.

    The team followed.

    Two hours later, the settlement AIs tagged Barba long before she made it back. She was running. It was just her and the now-legless Onoho, who wrapped his arms around Barba¡¯s neck, holding on for life, with a failing grip. Barba wasn¡¯t doing too hot either. Her left arm was missing.

    Tears ran down her face as the rescue team grabbed her before she got close, holding her in quarantine by the wall, asking her questions, even as they healed her. She spoke of many things that all happened at once. Gradually, the story came out. Three people were dead. Barba was talking about how it was all her fault, and how she should have talked to them more, but they said they knew what they were doing and Ja¡¯Nael¡¯s report said the same. But the goblins had gotten the team.

    Barba had managed to delimb both herself and Onoho before the goblin infection could get them, too.

    ¡°The dragonoid was sleeping and I was harvesting the spines and then the Spotter girl¡­¡± Barba breathed, wiping away tears with her remaining hand. ¡°She saw a sanguinepuff growing out of the dragonoid¡¯s kill pile, and I told her not to go for it, but she did anyway. And then a goblin was there, and then there were thirty, fifty, I don¡¯t know. We fought. We killed tens of them, but¡­ there was an invisible or something corruption goblin in the middle of the fight and none of us realized what was happening until¡­ Until we lost the first one. The big guy¡­ cut¡­ I¡¯m not sure how¡­ There was a retreat. We lived. They did not¡­ It¡¯s my fault. I should have¡­ I don¡¯t know what I should have done. There were no goblins, and then there were goblins everywhere.¡±

    - -

    Aurora read the incident report, compiled not 20 minutes after Barba Sacredcut got back to the settlement, and the world felt gloomy.

    Denaka Pule, Spotter, aged 21. Denaka graduated with high honors at Crytalis Hunter Academy, not even a year ago.

    Vikas Woton, True Brawny, aged 21. He had come to the settlement with Denaka, and with three different letters of recommendation from the Grand Guard. He was supposed to make a life here.

    Akailah Hadj, Marksman, aged 20. A late addition to the team of Vikas, Denaka, and Onoho, Akailah was in Mage Society and learning how to craft her own weaponry.

    Too young.

    Onoho survived, and Barba did, too, which was a miracle, really.

    They didn¡¯t have a real healer¡­ And maybe the goblins were a big problem, too. But the largest failing of the team was more basic than the enemies they encountered.

    The whole team would have survived if Onoho had been a real healer. Obviously, ¡®Wipe Away¡¯ wasn¡¯t good enough. Aurora had let him coast through an invitation into the settlement program as a healer because Wipe Away was unique enough and good enough that Onoho could eventually become a true power, in a niche sort of way. But apparently not as a Healer, which is what he wanted to be. The kid''s desires far outpaced his capability, and Aurora should have seen that.

    So that was on Aurora.

    Aurora set down the incident report.

    Kandon was leaning against the wall, waiting for her to finish.

    ¡°Our first deaths,¡± Aurora said.

    ¡°I always figured it would be some aberration,¡± Kandon said, stepping away from the wall. ¡°But goblins? I suppose goblins are an always-problem so I shouldn¡¯t be that surprised, but I still am.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised, too.¡±

    And the prognosticators of the city hadn¡¯t seen this issue at all¡­ Well. None of them were perfect prognosticators, anyway, so¡­

    Aurora should simply annihilate the problem in the east.

    It would take ten minutes.

    But she couldn¡¯t save her soldiers all the time; that was impossible. They were soldiers, and she had to believe they could triumph in the face of danger. That¡¯s why people came on settlement projects, after all. But these three¡­ Aurora glanced at the incident report, reading the names of the kids once again. These three perished chasing that ideal.

    Aurora glanced at the clock, then asked, ¡°The reconnaissance team found nothing at the canyons? It¡¯s been an hour.¡±

    ¡°The dragonoids were all active and moving around, and we found no signs that there were any goblins at all, but Barba Sacredcut and Onoho were both adamant that there were goblins. It might be a team from Goblinhome.¡±

    Ahh¡­ That terrible word. That terrible place.

    If it would have been possible to destroy Goblinhome, for real, then the powers of Aluatha would have done that already. But the Elder Goblins just hid underground and on Earth whenever Aluatha came around. That was their normal response to being threatened, anyway. A few times in history enough people had gotten together to truly threaten Goblinhome, to wipe it off the map, and then Goblinhome had responded how they always imagined Goblinhome would respond to an existential threat.

    They had contracted with demons to make kaiju.

    So large scale attacks on Goblinhome were out of the question.

    The worst thing that the goblins could do in reprisal was sneak into the cities of the Empire and create kaiju inside cities.

    So the Empire was in a longstanding cold war with Goblinhome.

    This event here was probably not Goblinhome, but even if it was, Aurora was fully within the understanding that the Empire had with Goblinhome to eradicate the goblins around their territory.

    But she would try to keep some power in reserve, in case it was needed elsewhere, for a potential real attack from Goblinhome. The settlement was always going to eventually draw the sights of those Elder Goblins, since the settlement was less than 500 kilometers from the Greendeath Mountains.

    Aurora made a decision, ¡°This is still a small threat, and it will be handled at the common soldier level. To that end: Cancel all harvesting to the east and set up a goblin extermination schedule. You know what to do. Teams are only allowed to leave the settlement if they have the capability to heal the goblin infection, and the normal potions and trinkets don¡¯t count.¡± She added, ¡°If these goblins are a team from Goblinhome then the Empire gets involved. Don¡¯t spread around the Goblinhome scenario. Treat it as a normal infestation.¡±

    Kandon nodded. ¡°Understood.¡±

 173

    Mark¡¯s eyes slammed open.

    ¡­ And then he took a moment to relax in the warmth of the bed. Winter wasn¡¯t here quite yet, but it was getting close. Two days away! And yet, it was already chilly everywhere except for under the big, fluffy comforter.

    And then Mark threw the blankets off and hopped out of bed.

    Shirt on! Jeans on! Breath of purity/impurity for easy cleaning!

    And then out into the living room, straight to the kitchen. With an eager pull, Mark opened the big fridge and grabbed the eggs. Farm fresh! Disastrously expensive at 150 points per dozen, eggs were hard to get these days, but Mark had connections, and not just through Eliot.

    There were two official stores for foodstuffs, though a lot of people were talking about building farmer¡¯s markets, and a few people actually were growing their own stuff to sell, but not really. The store Mark had bought these eggs from was the ¡®Worker¡¯s Store¡¯, at the farms. It got everything first. The common store, at Castle South, got everything second. Sometimes that meant the common store didn¡¯t get eggs at all.

    But Mark had gotten eggs, and he was going to make pancakes for breakfast. They hadn¡¯t had pancakes in a week! Mark had even gotten some fresh syrup for today, too!

    With a happy smile, Mark opened the cabinet and grabbed for the unopened bottle of...syrup.

    The syrup was gone?

    ¡­ No no no. Mark shook his head. It was a full bottle, special for today.

    Maybe Mark had put it somewhere else?

    He went looking.

    Not in the fridge. Not in the pantry. Not in the cabinets anywhere¡­

    Mark frowned¡­ He turned his gaze slowly to the side, to the trash can.

    Did he want to go poking in the trash? No. No he did not¡­

    Mark went poking, anyway¡ª

    He froze. There, sitting covered in coffee grounds, was the 1,500 point syrup bottle. It was glass and fancy. The price had been 1,200, but the price went up since two weeks ago. The glass bottle was empty, save for a little bit of brown residue puddled at the bottom corner of the bottle.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill someone.¡±

    ¡­ He looked at the egg carton.

    Had it felt a bit light, when he picked it up?

    Mark opened the egg carton¡ª

    He almost slammed the lid shut, but he didn¡¯t want to break the 7 eggs that remained. And then Mark went into the fridge, looking for the strawberries and blueberries he had gotten from the farm, and those containers were half empty, too. The frozen hash browns were opened, too...

    ¡­ This was his fault, actually.

    Someone had eaten some of the food, and Mark had never made a point that some of this stuff was special, for today.

    Mark went about making breakfast, but smaller than he had been planning, all the while thinking about how all of their finances as a team were kinda just thrown around, and nothing was actually set regarding who paid for what, or what stuff was free-for-all, or not. It had been a fine arrangement when it was just Mark, Isoko, and Eliot, but now Sally was here, and the food Mark expected to have was missing, because Sally made extra meals all the time.

    How big of a deal was this?

    ¡­ It was a nothingburger.

    Mark let it go, and he made the special breakfast as well as he could.

    Isoko was the first to stir inside of her room, waking up slowly and then all at once. Sally was second, her vector going from inward to outward and then suddenly flashing left and right before she focused on herself, and her breathing. Eliot was asleep and he was going to stay that way until Mark knocked on his door.

    Sally came out of her room first, saying, ¡°I smell pancakes and sausage!¡±

    She was pretending she hadn¡¯t eaten most of the stuff last night, though inward she was cringing. Mark smirked a little, and said nothing about any of that.

    Instead, Mark said, ¡°The full spread will be ready in 20. I have some pancakes ready already in the oven though, if you want to start on those. We¡¯re out of syrup, but we do have jam and sugar.¡±

    ¡°¡­ This is a special breakfast, isn¡¯t it.¡± Sally paused. ¡°And I used up the last bottle of syrup?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Mark turned and smiled. ¡°Jam and sugar is fine.¡±

    Sally stepped closer to the kitchen, to look in the oven and then at the massive container of batter Mark was currently spooning onto a small lake of butter. The batter sizzled. And then there were the cut up berries and stuff, and Sally sighed.

    Sally said, ¡°You¡¯re doing a spread.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Mark named off what he had done, ¡°Fruit pancakes for everyone and plain pancakes mostly for Isoko, but you can have some of those if you want. Sausage patties. Hashbrowns. I was going to make eggs, too, but all of those got used in the pancakes, and that¡¯s fine, Sally.¡±

    Sally frowned a little, embarrassed, saying, ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t know you were making¡­ a lot.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Eliot¡¯s birthday. February 10.¡±

    ¡°Ahhhh¡­ fuck.¡± Sally breathed deep, and then she looked to Eliot¡¯s room. She whispered, ¡°He¡¯s asleep, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He should¡ª¡±

    Isoko came out of her room, yawning.

    Mark continued, ¡°¡ªbe sleeping until we wake him.¡±

    Sally asked Isoko, ¡°Buddy with me to the store? I need to replace the syrup from last night.¡±

    Isoko paused, blinking a lot. She wasn¡¯t fully awake right now, but she got there quick enough. And then she looked at what Mark was cooking. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ making a lot of food?¡±

    ¡°You might not like your birthday, Isoko, but Eliot hinted that today was B-day at least twice in the last week.¡± Offhandedly, Mark added, ¡°Also his mother called and made sure that we were doing something special for him.¡±

    Isoko whispered, ¡°Fuck.¡± And then she told Sally, ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll get¡­ dressed. Fast. Grocery. Yes.¡±

    They were out the door in under a minute.

    Mark continued to make breakfast.

    Sure enough, Eliot remained peacefully asleep while Isoko and Sally took 15 minutes to go to the store and come back, carrying the second-to-last bottle of syrup and also a pre-decorated sheet cake. The cake was 3,500 points, which was so incredibly overpriced that Mark laughed, but it was a big cake, enough for 10 people, and it read ¡®Happy Birthday!¡¯ in bright green icing on a white base. It was a good cake.

    With everything prepped, Mark knocked on Eliot¡¯s door with gusto, saying, ¡°Wake up! Breakfast!¡±

    Eliot shocked awake, but, as usual, he remained in bed. Usually he could just stay there like that for ten minutes, but not today!

    Mark, Isoko, and Sally stood around Eliot¡¯s closed door, prepared with the cake on a small table. The candles were waiting to be lit, but they¡¯d probably eat it after breakfast. It depended on what Eliot wanted, really.

    They weren¡¯t about to let him take his time getting up, though.

    ¡°Come get breakfast, Eliot!¡± Isoko said to the door.

    Eliot got moving, grumbling, ¡°Okay okay.¡±

    And then he opened the door and stood stock still, eyes going wide as he looked at the cake, and at the smiling faces of his friends. Mark felt his surprise and then joy, and then a deep sense of something else that was hard to put into words. Something close to love.

    ¡°Happy birthday!¡± they chorused.

    Eliot got a little teary-eyed.

    Breakfast turned out pretty good.

    Eliot had opted to have just a small slice of cake, after everything else, but everyone else had a normal slice. Sally had a lot, which was fine. Finances didn¡¯t matter that much, and Mark had to tell himself that several times over. He wasn¡¯t poor anymore. He could just buy more stuff, and he should buy more stuff, too.

    Soon, Mark was cleaning up, dishes clattering as he put them away, while Eliot was on the couch with Sally, talking about city planning. Isoko was helping Mark clean up.

    ¡°That was a good breakfast,¡± Isoko said to Mark.

    Mark grinned. ¡°It was pretty good.¡±

    Isoko smiled softly as she placed the leftover cake into a clearing she had made in the fridge, and then she turned around and asked everyone, ¡°What¡¯s everyone want to do today? I want to go on another hollow gourd harvesting trip so that means Mark with me, unless other people want other things.¡±

    Eliot and Sally were in the living room, talking about something, but they turned and listened.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m good with vine farming. You talk to Barba yet? Or some other harvester?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t talked to her yet, but I¡¯m hoping she¡¯s available,¡± Isoko said. ¡°Vivant crystal was one of the big listings on the big board this morning because winter is almost here and vivant crystal doesn¡¯t happen when all the plants are asleep, and the hollow gourds are one of the best sources of those.¡±

    Mark nodded. ¡°Sounds like a plan to me.¡±

    Mark wanted to know if Julie had used his adamantium yet, anyway. It had been almost a week since he had given the eldest Sacredcut sister about 300 grams of adamantium. She should have made something of it by now, right? And Barba was good to party with. How was she doing?

    Eliot and Sally gave each other a look.

    And then Eliot turned toward Isoko, saying, ¡°Sally and I can hang out today by the farms and the trash. I need to go through the trash pile again and turn it all into usable stuff.¡±

    ¡°Plans made!¡± Mark announced.

    Soon, everyone was getting ready.

    Planning for each day was usually rather easy, but planning still needed to be done. Eliot usually needed to do something for the settlement like take care of the trash, and everyone needed to figure out meals, too. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day; it still had to be done. They usually ended up doing dinner all together, with every other meal usually happening individually. Today was a special day for breakfast, though.

    A great start to the morning.

 174

    Mark pulled the webweave up past his stomach, sticking his arms into the sleeves and then pulling the slick fabric up past his shoulders. The black fabric distended at his insistence, and then collapsed back down onto him, around his neck, without issue. Each webweave was made by spiders that crawled on mannequins to lay down trails of web across the forms, and then the weaves were taken off and treated, somehow, making them incredibly durable and stretchy.

    Like all webweaves, Mark¡¯s was made to order, without any openings at all, except for his head. He didn¡¯t have to use the bathroom, unlike most people, so his webweave was completely protective.

    Mark looked at himself in the mirror, and felt good about what he saw.

    He looked good in black, and he didn¡¯t have to wear padding like some heroes wore for the cameras. This was all him! Big shoulders and great chest and legs, and a trim waist. He could even see his abs under the webweave. The best part was how it moved, though.

    Mark did some stretches, going through his full range of motion and doing some of his astral body stretches, too, just because he could, and he needed to, anyway.

    With one hand on the ground, Mark lifted himself into the air, doing a handstand while not using his adamantium at all. And then he pounded out a few advanced pushups with one hand and then the other before he did a few squats on one foot and then the other, all the way till his ass hit his heels. He breathed hard under the weight of the movement, but soon he was warmed up.

    Almost ready to head out for the day.

    ¡­ There was the matter of wearing his real armor, though.

    Webweave was great, but it wasn¡¯t as protective as Mark¡¯s ablative ceramic armor.

    ¡­ Mark looked at the ¡®Shaper Armor Assister¡¯ hanging on the wall, and wondered if today was a good day to wear it. The assister looked like a series of belts and clips, all in brown leather and silver metal, that would go over the chest and waist and thighs like a complicated series of wraps. From there, Mark could activate it, and he could make some armor out of adamantium, using the assister¡¯s guide.

    Julie had made this particular assister.

    Mark hadn¡¯t been able to use it too well because he simply didn¡¯t have enough raw material to make a set of armor. Normal metal armor weighed something like 20 to 40 kilos, depending on a lot of different factors. A full suit of adamantium armor, which is what the assister would help him to make, weighed in at 45 kilos.

    Mark only had 7,500 grams of the stuff.

    So, he couldn¡¯t actually use the assister at all.

    ¡­ Not in a normal way, though.

    But maybe he could replace his helmet with adamantium? That¡¯d be a good start.

    Mark grabbed the assister and put it on like he was strapping on a vest made of enchanted belts. After Mark clipped on the final belt around his left thigh, a small holodisplay popped up in front of him. Quark, sitting on Mark¡¯s desk, flickered to life, his silver light shifting over to the words ¡®connecting¡¯, and then the holodisplay in front of Mark flickered silver.

    Mark wasn¡¯t going to use all of his adamantium in his suit of armor at all. But a helmet and maybe a chest piece that was absolutely solid against all sorts of attacks? That would be good. Mark had wanted to wear adamantium armor ever since he imagined having enough adamantium to make into armor, but he was still nowhere near being able to do that.

    Mark stood in front of the mirror and decided, ¡°I¡¯ve got 3 kilos of adamantium to use in my armor, Quark. Give me some good designs for a helmet and chestpiece.¡±

    Having 4,500 grams of adamantium left over for weaponry and movement was fine. Mark had done a lot with a lot less! He absolutely wasn¡¯t going below 4 kilos of usable adamantium, though.

    Quark said, ¡°Three kilos of adamantium is not enough material to provide any sort of real defense, for you will always leave something exposed.¡±

    And then Quark did what Mark asked, and the assister came to life, overlaying something that was not a hologram over Mark¡¯s chest and head.

    Mark stood in front of his mirror, looking at himself, but with a chestplate with great big holes under the arms, allowing for way too large of an attack target, and a helmet that was basically a skullcap. And that was it. Mark frowned.

    Yeah. This wasn¡¯t going to work.

    ¡°¡­ I really should use the helmet, though. So... Quark. Give me a good helmet using 1 kilo of adamantium¡ª¡± Mark changed his parameters, saying, ¡°1,750 grams.¡±

    The ¡®hologram¡¯ breastplate dissolved, and the skullcap morphed into something nicer. It was still a skullcap, but it had a full face covering and a good field of view. Some sort of wing-like things were above the ears, sweeping back, and the ears were fully covered with rounded mounds. Mark could wear coms under those ear coverings just fine. It had jaw protection, too. Mark could remove the lower part of the faceplate to talk to people easily enough.

    ¡­ Yeah.

    This was good.

    It was time to replace his store-bought helmet with something a lot better.

    Mark took his adamantium like it was a stick of charcoal and he drew on top of the ¡®light¡¯ that made up the helmet, and the light transformed to black adamantium, as Mark fed more and more adamantium into the structure. The light was not light. It was some sort of magical ¡®thing¡¯ that helped Mark Shape how he needed to Shape, and then it did even more than that.

    The assister actually had two different types of ¡®light¡¯. The first type helped Mark to layer his adamantium exactly where it needed to go, which was not the main draw of using an assister. Armor still needed padding, after all. The second type of light is why Mark was glad he had an assister at all.

    As Mark drew in his new helmet, some magic thing inside the assister ¡®painted¡¯ in under the black material, creating a cushion out of, like, air and plastic, or something. Mark wasn¡¯t sure. An aerogel, Eliot had called it. A semi-magical aerogel, actually. Eliot couldn¡¯t make an assister, unfortunately.

    Soon enough, Mark had a helmet that was exactly what he needed it to be, and it was cushioned on the inside, too, like Mark had bought the helmet off of the shelf, from a professional armorer.

    It looked pretty good.

    ¡­ Kinda stuffy, though.

    Mark took off the faceplate and that was much better. He still had, like, ¡®muttonchop¡¯ jaw protection, so this was good.

    He practiced removing and replacing the faceplate a few times, melding it into the helmet and then popping it off. He tweaked the ear-wings a little, making them less wing-like, and then adding breathing tubes from his faceplate to those wings. Was that good? He wasn¡¯t sure if that was good or not.

    But it was a new helmet!

    Yay helmet!

    Mark took off the assister and hung it onto the wall, and then he started putting on his ceramic plate ablative armor, like normal¡ª

    Isoko¡¯s vector, in the other room, turned sharp. Worried.

    ¡­ She wasn¡¯t yelling, though. She was probably on her computer? Looking at things? Mark wondered what was happening. He listened. She was on the phone. She sounded worried.

    Mark put his armor on faster.

    Isoko felt Mark¡¯s concern just as Mark felt her worry. Her vector slipped left and right; a shake of the head. Not something he needed to be instantly concerned about, then.

    Mark got into the living room and Sally was there, in her leather armor but without her sword. She was staying in the settlement today. Mark was concerned about Isoko, and Sally noticed that. She turned concerned as soon as she saw Mark looking concerned.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Something with Isoko,¡± Mark said.

    Sally waited with him for Isoko to come out of her room. She was talking with Barba¡­ or maybe Julie. Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    And then Eliot came out of his room.

    Eliot stopped in his tracks. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Do you know what happened?¡± Sally asked Eliot.

    ¡°Something with Barba,¡± Mark said, adding, ¡°But I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    Eliot frowned a little, and then looked away, his vector turning ephemeral, sinking into the world around them. And then Eliot jerked. He came back and the big screen in the living room flickered under Eliot¡¯s Power of Man-made Manipulatio¡ª

    An announcement was writ large on the screen.

    The first deaths of the settlement.

    Three people Mark didn¡¯t know.

    And then a bunch of new regulations.

    Goblins were at large. Potential Hive Mind goblins, and aberrants. The infection that had just been a normal goblin infection was now a major problem that needed to be solved, and fast.

    Mark was unsure how he felt about that. Bad, yes, but also¡­ Something else.

    Eliot looked sick.

    Isoko came out of her room, phone still to her face, eyes downcast as she looked at the screen, and finished saying, ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll be there.¡± And then she hung up. ¡°Barba was one of the two survivors. She¡¯s not going vivant crystal hunting. She wants us to hunt goblins. She is furious.¡±

    Mark¡¯s unknown feelings transformed into surety. Into a decision.

    Mark said. ¡°So it¡¯s a goblin hunting day, then.¡±

    Isoko tentatively nodded¡ª

    Eliot strongly said, ¡°I¡¯m not doing that.¡±

    Sally was almost offended. ¡°Why no¡ª¡± And then she stopped herself.

    She could see what everyone else saw.

    Eliot didn¡¯t want anything to do with goblins, and honestly Mark didn¡¯t blame him. Those mind goblins had almost gotten him during the training mission in Rome with Inquisitor David, and then Mark and Isoko had almost been suicide¡¯d by that demon-controlled Mind Warper at Wolf Bayou. Minders were Eliot¡¯s big weakness, too. Mind Powers were directly across from Arcane Powers in the Power Hex, and even having the favor of Hearthswell only boosted Eliot¡¯s Natural Power resistance. It did nothing against Mind Powers.

    Eliot¡¯s inability to handle certain specific scenarios, like Mind monsters, was a result of many things, and Mark did not blame him at all for any of that. Gods knew Mark had certain issues regarding certain things.

    And yet...

    Mark said, ¡°Not a problem, but¡­ Talk to me, Eliot.¡±

    Eliot breathed in, then said, ¡°You were out of it when¡­ when we had to go out and get supplies in Rome. Sure, David was there, but¡­ but the Mind Nudge goblins took me out and Isoko had to carry me back, and all of the supplies, too.¡±

    Eliot had never mentioned that specific incident before, but Mark understood why he hadn¡¯t.

    Eliot¡¯s vector and face were full of pain as he said, ¡°Do not go along with her revenge. Do not risk yourself like that.¡±

    Mark understood what Eliot was saying.

    He was still disappointed.

    Moments passed, and Mark let them pass, so that Eliot would hear what he had to say next.

    And then Mark said, ¡°The problems of this world and all others won¡¯t end unless we end them ourselves. Everyone helps everyone else, but we still have to do the work ourselves. You get that, right? I know you do. Goblins need killing or else they will kill us in turn. There is no way around that.¡±

    Eliot was quiet, his vector flashing from disbelief to dislike, and then to acceptance. He stood a bit stronger, and said, ¡°Fine. I can have some laser drones, or something¡­ accompany you beyond the walls. Blinding goblins is easy enough. I¡¯m not leaving the settlement when there are goblins out there, though.¡±

    Mark decided that that was good enough.

    Mark looked to Sally. ¡°You good staying here?¡±

    Sally was not good with that at all, but she said, ¡°I am.¡±

    Mark nodded, and then he put on a small smile, and walked out the porch door, onto the open grass and into the fog of the early morning, saying, ¡°We¡¯ll let you know what we find out! And happy birthday, Eliot! We¡¯ll do something special tonight when we get back!¡±

    ¡°Happy birthday, Eliot,¡± Isoko said, as she kept pace with Mark, into the foggy morning.

    Sally stayed with Eliot, the two of them watching from the porch as the fog swirled. Soon, all Mark could see of Eliot and Sally were their vectors and the glow of the apartment in the fog.

    Mark and Isoko made their way to the tram station.

 175

    Sacredcut Manor was located on the northern side of the Noble District.

    It was something of a castle, with crenelations and towers, but it also had food gardens out front, knights in armor standing guard, and gun turrets of various flavors on the corners of tall stone structures. Mark spotted standard bullet-type gun emplacements, but also lasers with glittering crystals in their bases, and something that was probably an acid or oil shooter, with piping and nozzles. They looked like what Eliot could make, but a whole lot more unique, with actual magical materials. Eliot could only work with non-magical materials.

    Some gears rotated on some of the walls, and Mark had no idea why there were gears outside of the building, but they were kinda nice to look at, all bronze and maybe-steel, so maybe it was an aesthetic choice?

    As Mark and Isoko approached the house in the thinning fog, Mark asked, ¡°You think Eliot would be more fearless if he could work with magical things?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ comfortable to say, but I think allying with Hearthswell made him focus inward too much. That¡¯s the real problem. Castellan makes him too safe behind walls, but Union doesn¡¯t care about walls at all.¡±

    ¡­ Now there was a thought.

    Mark tucked that thought away for later as he and Isoko approached the large archway leading to Sacredcut Manor¡¯s front lawns. There was no gate on the property, but the archway was clearly a defended location, with exposed gears here and there and also some embossed bronze plates that flipped over when Mark and Isoko approached. The flipped plate read, ¡®Welcome to Sacredcut Manor, Mark Careed and Isoko Kanno. Come right in!¡¯.

    It was kinda strange.

    Not that strange, though.

    Isoko walked forward first, but Mark was a little hesitant.

    Isoko noticed, smirked, and pointed at the sign overhead. ¡°It says to come right in!¡±

    Isoko walked under the archway, and Mark followed.

    Soon they were walking between private gardens filled with vegetables, and then they reached the front entrance. A wide staircase of white marble led up to the white castle-like house. A pair of guards were on duty out front, though they were more ¡®sitting to the side and talking¡¯ rather than ¡®on high alert¡¯. Mark kinda wondered at the presence of the guards.

    House Valen didn¡¯t have any guards, but the Sacredcuts did?

    Mark knew enough about the Aluatha Empire to know there was something happening regarding all of that, but he didn¡¯t know what, exactly, having-guards versus not-having-guards could mean. Were the Valens not allowed to have guards? Because they were dragonists? But the Sacredcuts were dragonists, too, weren¡¯t they?

    Maybe it was a personal choice.

    Whatever the case, Mark and Isoko were only halfway to the entrance when a side door opened to the left of the main staircase, on the ground floor. Barba rushed out into the morning air. She was wearing her hunting leathers with her quiver at her hip, but her bow was nowhere to be seen.

    Barba called out, ¡°Everyone says that the team is dead and gone, but they were smart goblins. They might be from Goblinhome, which means the team might be alive¡ª¡±

    ¡°They are dead, Barba,¡± said an older man, who walked out from behind Barba, sounding exasperated. ¡°You¡¯re not going back out there right now and Mister Careed and Miss Kanno are not taking you on their twosome. Please, Barba.¡±

    Barba wiped off her face. Mark thought she might have been wiping away a tear, as she glared at the older man. And then she stormed back into the house.

    The older man turned to Mark and Isoko and put on a smile. It was strained. ¡°Greetings, Mister Careed. Miss Kanno. I¡¯m Baron Herb Sacredcut, but you can call me Herb. I¡¯m Julie and Barba¡¯s uncle. Please, come in.¡±

    And then he went back inside, out of the fog, into the light of a main hallway, or room; Mark couldn¡¯t tell from this angle.

    Mark glanced at Isoko, and she glanced back. Isoko gestured forward.

    Mark took the lead, saying, ¡°Nice to meet you, Herb.¡±

    Mark and Isoko stepped into an entrance hall.

    Sacredcut Manor was a pretty nice place, but kinda plain. Someone, not Mark, might think the whitewashed stone walls and simple rugs and plain lights were the sign of poor nobles. The food gardens out front said as much, too. The rich liked showy gardens. The poor planted potatoes. But this place was only built last month, so maybe it was how it was because they were trying to be self-sufficient in the settlement?

    Valen Manor was filled with paintings and vases and fine things, though, so¡­

    It was a few more pieces to a puzzle that Mark didn¡¯t realize existed.

    Barba¡¯s quiver was on the ground over there, looking like it had been tossed on the floor, next to the hook that should have held it. Her bow hung nicely on the wall, though, along with other weapons for ¡ªMark assumed¡ª other people. A spear, a sword, several maces. All of them hung on the wall like they were waiting to be picked up in case of an emergency¡­ Which was probably exactly what it was.

    Mark should hang his spear by the door to the apartment. It was currently hanging on the wall inside his room, but maybe¡­ maybe he needed a second one by the actual entrance to the apartment.

    Herb noticed the spilled arrows, too, but he flicked a hand at them and the walls of the house opened up just a little, and little mechanical arms came out of the wall and picked up the arrows, put them back in the quiver, and then put the quiver back on the wall. As that was happening, Herb said, ¡°She¡¯s rightfully upset, so please forgive her excess.¡±

    Mark was pretty sure that he heard soft sobbing in a room down the hall. He felt two vectors in that room, too, and one of them was probably Barba. The other vector was someone consoling Barba. Maybe Julie.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Isoko said. ¡°We did not see the report yet, but we heard something about it. Eliot said that it was mind goblins?¡±

    Herb easily said, ¡°That¡¯s one of the theories, but it¡¯s not proven yet. People like to catastrophize in situations like this, and we must take care not to fall into that trap, for to catastrophize is to cause resources to be spent that might be better used later, when the emergency is actually here. The real problem is that Barba has never lost a team before. She¡¯s¡­ not doing well.¡±

    ¡°What actually happened?¡± Mark asked.

    ¡°¡­ Would you mind waiting in the living room? I am sure Barba would rather tell you about it herself, and then, if you wish, could you take her out to exterminate the goblins? I know I said that she wasn¡¯t going out there again but¡­ that was the response of an old man praying for something he knows is not going to happen. Barba is going back out there; it¡¯s just a matter of who she goes with.¡± Herb continued, ¡°I¡¯m trying to get Aurora or a few others to do long-range bombing and it¡¯s not going well. No one wants to deal¡ª¡± Herb cut himself off and looked to the right. A hole in the wall opened up and a metal arm extended, along with a phone. It was ringing. Herb grabbed the phone as he told Mark and Isoko, ¡°This is Aurora. I need to take this.¡± He gestured down the way, saying, ¡°The living room is right¡ª Ah! Hello¡­ Yes, I¡¯ll wait¡­ No.¡±

    Pause.

    And then Herb looked away, scowling as he walked away and spoke to the person on the other side, who was obviously not Aurora, ¡°No, Secretary Jones. I will not accept that reasoning. These are the first deaths of a settlement and such events must be met with overwhelming devastation¡­ It¡¯s not superstition! It¡¯s a demonstration that we will not be made fools of, and if these goblins are from Goblinhome then we must act with pure offense¡­ No, I do not believe that soldiers should respond to this particular soldier threat! My niece almost died, and...¡±

    Herb was already down the hall, his voice turning softer and more angry as he turned the corner and went out of sight. His voice was too soft to hear.

    Mark asked, ¡°What¡¯s Goblinho¡ª¡±

    Isoko put a finger to her lips, her vector focused hard in Herb¡¯s direction.

    Okay, so, maybe Mark couldn¡¯t hear Herb anymore.

    Mark wondered about Goblinhome. Barba had said that word once, and now Herb said it, too. Mark was pretty sure he had heard that term¡­ somewhere. But he didn¡¯t know where. Mark pulled out Quark and asked, ¡°What¡¯s Goblinhome?¡±

    Isoko raised an eyebrow, looking at Mark, and then at Quark. She stopped trying to listen to Herb and instead focused on the silver rectangle as Quark booted up his thinking processes.

    Quark said, ¡°Goblinhome is a loose organization of goblins, generally thought to be located in the Greendeath Mountains in the Northern Continent, north of the Empire of Aluatha. The Greendeath Mountains are named after the overwhelming presence of goblin tribes in the area. On Earth, the mountain range is known as the Appalachian Mountains, or the Appalachians.

    ¡° ¡®Goblinhome¡¯ is not a specific place. It is a loose tribal structure of goblins that create the temporary city of Goblinhome every so often, and then the Empire of Aluatha goes on bombing runs every few years to cull them back to manageable sizes. The Empire usually tries to rescue human breeding slaves captured by the goblins, but sometimes that is not feasible.

    ¡°Goblinhome might not be a real place, but the Elder Goblins who inhabit the Greendeaths are certainly real. The Elder Goblins have Skills comparable to humans, thanks to the Monster Tutorial, and they have something of a civilization that works to support those Skills and those Elder Goblins.

    ¡°The official stance of the Empire of Aluatha is to not engage with the Elder Goblins at all, and to cull all goblins located outside of the Greendeaths.¡±

    Quark went quiet.

    Mark let out a breath he had started holding somewhere around the mention of the Appalachian Mountains. That was only 500-ish kilometers away. Mark put Quark away while saying, ¡°Another horror show for the pile.¡±

    Isoko muttered, ¡°Holy shit. Goblinhome is real?¡±

    ¡°You heard about it before?¡±

    ¡°I never thought it was real. Grandma mentioned it a few times, but¡­ She said it was in the tundras north of unincorporated Xerkona. On the other side of Mongols. Orange City is below the Appalachians, though¡ª That¡¯s only 500 kilometers away!¡± Isoko¡¯s eyes went wide. And then she asked, ¡°You ever heard of goblins coming through there?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall any, but I was behind Curtain Protocol so¡­ I think the cities up there do deal with goblins more than they deal with kaiju. It¡¯s an always-problem, too, so¡­ yeah. That explains that.¡±

    Barba was walking toward them by that point. Her tears were dry and she was back to quiet fury, though her voice was solid as she said, ¡°Kaiju, aberrant monsters, goblins, Mind monsters; there are many horrors in the wilds that never really go away. Goblins are an always-problem. Goblinhome isn¡¯t a real place, but the green horrors who know about Goblinhome usually have inherited memories and can thus organize better, so it¡¯s dangerous when you hear a goblin speak of Goblinhome. Most of the time they¡¯re not even sure what they¡¯re talking about, but those sorts of goblins are tricky. Trappers and planners. The ones that killed my team are from Goblinhome, even if they are not from the main Elder Goblin lines.¡±

    Mark wondered about Goblinhome, but he was more focused on solving the problem in front of him than learning history right now. Mark said, ¡°Eliot told us they were possible mind goblins, and that he was going to ask Aurora to intervene, to annihilate the place. He¡¯s probably doing that right now.¡±

    Barba shook her head. ¡°She won¡¯t do it.¡± And then she got serious. ¡°I saw the green horrors cutting off Akailah¡¯s arms where a goblin had bit her. They were not torturing her. Not yet. They saw she was a Marksman and they want that in their next generation. They want to keep her as a breeder. They¡¯re going to take her away to some elder goblin somewhere and she¡¯ll live in horror for her entire life, which might be a month while they fatten her up, or years, if they¡­ If they¡­¡± Barba was breathing hard. Unable to form sentences. And then she focused. ¡°This all happened yesterday and they told me that they sent scanners to find the goblins, but all they found were normal goblins and the remains of Denaka and Vikas and the broken left arm bone of Akailah. They did not find Akailah¡¯s remains, and they did not find the goblins I saw. Not the ones I saw. A three-horned blue goblin. That¡¯s the dangerous one. He¡¯s a corruptor goblin.

    ¡°I need to kill them all.

    ¡°Will you help?¡±

    Julie had walked up behind Barba halfway through her words, preparing to speak as soon as Barba stopped. Julie did not give Mark or Isoko a chance to respond.

    Julie said, ¡°Barba lost an arm cutting it off to escape. She saved a guy named Onoho who lost both legs because she had to cut them off to stop the infection. Onoho and Barba have both been physically healed, but the other survivor is completely alone now and his response to the green horror has been to curl up and cry in Castle South, under the eyes of the healers there. Barba is having the opposite reaction, as you can see.¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Barba bit back strong words as she glared at Julie.

    Julie glared right back at her younger sister, saying, ¡°You are hyped up for revenge and you will get yourself killed. You just had your left arm regenerated last night. Tell me you have full functionality in your arm, that you can hold a bow at all, and I will call you a liar and a liability.¡±

    Barba¡¯s face reddened. And then she screamed incoherently in Julie¡¯s face.

    Julie weathered the storm.

    Barba stormed off.

    So that was a lot, but Mark focused on the issue to be solved in front of them, the goblins. Was Barba a liability in a fight, or not? She probably was. And now that Mark was looking, Mark noticed that Barba¡¯s left arm was lagging behind her movements. Yeah; that was some sort of regeneration-related problem. Those issues usually passed with time and proper healing, but Barba didn¡¯t want that. She wanted revenge.

    From her tumbling vector, Mark could tell that Barba was deeply ashamed about something. The team she had gone hunting with was not her own team, but Barba still felt incredibly responsible. That much was obvious.

    Mark hadn¡¯t offered his time to any teams that needed a healer here at the settlement, but he had certainly partied with strangers back in Memphi. If any of those temporary teammates would have ever died under his watch then he would probably feel the same way Barba was feeling right now.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m going to help heal her.¡±

    Mark connected to Barba with Union and helped heal her some, and she burst into tears before she even got back into the side room. Mark kept healing her. He was pretty sure she was having a reaction to being told ¡®no¡¯, more than she was having a reaction to Mark¡¯s Union.

    Julie glanced at Mark¡¯s arms, where some black veins pulsed in the air. She softly said, ¡°Thank you. She¡¯s not taking too well to the regeneration. If she acts up too much then it might fall off.¡±

    Julie was exaggerating for effect. Regenerated arms did not fall off.

    They might necrotize and then fall off, though. That much was true.

    Isoko asked, ¡°She still wants to search for this other person that might have lived? Akai¡­ something.¡±

    ¡°Akailah Hadj. She was a Marksman. People don¡¯t like to talk about it, but¡­ Some people are more viable targets for goblins than others. Akailah was a Marksman, and goblins that can shoot well are always some of the most dangerous ones out there. So I could see the goblins trying to take her alive. But I still think Barba is making connections that aren¡¯t there. It¡¯s possible that Akailah is still out there, but it¡¯s been 12 hours and the area has been scanned by multiple people and Skills. There are a few strange blue-tinted goblins, but they¡¯re just goblins. This is just a bad goblin infection, and Barba is not taking any of this well.¡± Julie added, ¡°The entire dragonoid area is now off-limits to everyone not on the goblin killing quest, and the entire eastern exterior of the settlement is considered infected. So keep that in mind before you step out in that direction¡­ Or really anywhere, actually. Goblins that are strong enough to grab people are the dangerous ones.¡±

    Mark asked, ¡°The goblins infected all the dragonoids, too?¡±

    ¡°Dragonoid goblins,¡± Isoko said, not sure how she felt about that.

    ¡°No no,¡± Julie said, ¡°The dragonoids are still alive and doing fine, as far as we¡¯ve been able to tell. The goblins are living around them. The dragonoids protect their territory rather fiercely, but goblins hide rather well, so the goblins are parasitizing the dragonoid territory but not the dragonoids themselves.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t know they did that?¡± Mark found himself asking.

    Isoko said, ¡°Me either. I didn¡¯t know goblins were smart like that at all.¡±

    Julie frowned a little. ¡°Goblins¡­ are usually not that smart, yes. So¡­¡±

    Mark guessed, ¡°This is a bigger problem than the notice says it is.¡±

    ¡°¡­ In a word, yes,¡± Julie said, looking concerned.

    Mark asked a different sort of uncomfortable question, ¡°Do they really¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say this. They use people as breeders?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Julie said, without hesitation.

    ¡°And they would really do... this... right in our backyard?¡± Mark found himself asking, not believing what he was saying, and not really knowing what he was saying, either. Were these goblins stupid? To hunt for humans right beside the human settlement? The answer was obviously yes. Resoundingly yes. Goblins were very stupid. Mark asked, ¡°Are they smart goblins, or are they stupid, opportunistic goblins?¡±

    Julie frowned a little, saying, ¡°Their society is narcissistic, to put it mildly. They don¡¯t believe that they could ever be truly harmed, because they do not care about death, because they can be reborn through the bite on and on and on again. This leads to a certain kind of worldview. For all their evils, they are still sapient people. They just think differently than us. The goblins have been out there for about a week now. People were killing them just fine, and though there were bites, everyone had some anti-goblin medication, or something to solve that problem, so¡­ the goblins here were a normal goblin issue. Goblins on the doorstep! Not a big deal. But¡­ But then this happened. The first deaths of the settlement.¡±

    Julie was leaning toward a different conversation altogether.

    The ¡®first deaths of the settlement¡¯ was a superstition-thing, Mark believed.

    Isoko said, ¡°I heard your uncle talking about that. Saying something about a curse?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a superstition, but people believe it, and Uncle believes it most firmly,¡± Julie said, ¡°The first people who die in a settlement set the tone for everything to come. Goblins are an evergreen problem, so for some people to die to goblins¡­ of all the damned things¡­¡± Julie frowned. ¡°No one should have died to goblins, which means either Aurora was incompetent about picking people for the settlement, Goblinhome is marching on us and half of us are dead already and we don¡¯t know it, or some third thing that I can¡¯t think of right now. I¡¯m sure someone is coming up with crazy theories to explain what is happening so that they can un-ring the very largest of alarm bells. No one wants this settlement to fail, and so¡­¡± Julie paused. Julie continued, ¡°All I know is that Aurora is planning for her choices to have been the right ones, which means that she¡¯s going to approach this with Empire Standard responses, which means soldier responses to soldier problems.

    ¡°Goblins are a soldier-level problem.

    ¡°This means that whoever goes out there to kill the goblins will either be successful, or they¡¯ll be additions to Goblinhome¡¯s breeding programs and then the entire settlement will mobilize against the existential threat.¡±

    For a moment, silence.

    And then Isoko asked, ¡°What actually happened out there?¡±

    Julie began, ¡°It was a dragonoid hunt, where they go out and sleep the dragonoids to harvest the mana crystals growing off of their spines and bone protrusions. And then it wasn¡¯t that at all. To make a long story short: The Spotter saw some plant growing out of the refuse of dragonoid they tranq¡¯d and she failed to spot the goblins hiding in the refuse. From there, it was a bloodbath. She got taken first, and then the True Brawny was there and he lasted a while in a fight, while the Marksman did her thing and Barba and the healer tried to rescue the Spotter, and...¡±

    Julie spoke of a battle that she was not a part of, and Mark knew he would need to get the information directly from Barba, when she came back out of the side room, because Mark got a strange feeling as he listened to Julie talk about goblins like they were kaiju. Goblins, as an existential threat. Yes, Mark already knew they were sort of like that. But not really. Most things ate and killed goblins on the regular. But goblins also never fully die until you kill them to the last.

    So yeah, goblins were an existential threat.

    Inquisitor David had even told Mark, Isoko, and Eliot that the goblins at Rome had been existential threats, which is why, if Mark and them hadn¡¯t been able to end that threat, that David was going to call in the big guns. So. Yeah. Goblins were an ¡®evergreen¡¯ problem.

    Mark was ready to end some existential threats.

    Was it hubris to think himself that powerful? Yes. But Mark was going to kill kaiju, and it was the height of hubris to think one man could kill any kaiju on his own. Killing goblins was just as important as killing kaiju, though. Mark knew he could find and kill goblins very well.

    And yet, Mark had some thoughts for himself.

    Respect the monsters, Mark. They kill every hunter who overextends themselves, as Barba¡¯s temporary team mostly found out.

    Julie got through most of Barba¡¯s story before Barba came back out, so Julie stopped and asked her, ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    Barba¡¯s face was set, her vector solid. ¡°Enough words have been said.¡± And then she looked at Mark and Isoko. ¡°I need to know your decisions. Will you please help me?¡±

    Mark understood Barba. That desire for revenge. That burning rage.

    Mark did not believe the worst case scenario that Goblinhome was preying on the settlement. It was much easier to believe that some aberrant goblin took advantage of a team in the wilds. It happened.

    Aurora didn¡¯t believe this was Goblinhome, too, so...

    Mark knew what he was about. He was about revenge and action. Isoko, standing next to him, felt the same way. Both of them were ready to go kill what needed killing.

    Julie was the only one here who wasn¡¯t ready to throw down with death. But she was close. She just needed help, too.

    Mark said, ¡°An archmage once told me that I would be murdering mountain goblins by the tens of thousands when I got to Daihoon. I wasn¡¯t aware this is what he meant, but this is what he meant, and so, there¡¯s no better time to start than now.¡±

    Julie breathed deep, unbalanced.

    Barba seemed almost fragile at that moment. She softly said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    And then Julie made up her own mind. She turned as solid as she could, and said, ¡°I trust you, Mark, but don¡¯t take risks, please. Smart goblins make traps all the time, and that¡¯s what happened here. Isoko, I need to talk to you, since I assume you will be the one guarding Barba for the goblin hunt. House Sacredcut is outfitting this whole extermination order. We need to showcase strength more than ever before. I¡¯ll give you weapons and¡­ and stuff. I¡¯m sure Uncle will want to be involved, too.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯m good with that.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Barba quietly said to Julie.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be thanking me yet, Barba, because you¡¯re on the backline, sister. You¡¯re not getting anywhere near any goblin. Knights Aaron and Samson are going with you and they¡¯re going to be under orders to guard you. Say you understand.¡±

    Barba¡¯s anger became a tool instead of a weight. Filled with careful rage, Barba said, ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°I have that wand for you to use, too.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Barba held her left arm. It was still in pain, just a little. ¡°I can hold a wand. I won¡¯t lose it, either.¡±

    Julie smiled just a little, though it was a broken, nervous sort of smile. ¡°Good! I used up all my adamantium to make it happen.¡±

    Mark smiled a little. So that¡¯s what she had made with his adamantium. Mark was looking forward to seeing it in action.

    Julie solidly told Barba, ¡°Do not use it more than four times.¡±

    Barba nodded.

    Julie said to Mark and Isoko, ¡°I have weaponry for you, Isoko, if you prefer something besides the rapier you usually use.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I don¡¯t need anything. Who are Aaron and Samson, though?¡±

    ¡°Speedster and Shielder. They¡¯re good men.¡±

    Isoko shook her head a little. ¡°I¡¯ll take a look, but I¡¯m probably going to stick with what I know, for today.¡±

    ¡°A reasonable plan,¡± Julie said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what I can give you, Mark, but I¡¯m sure we can find something around here¡ª Sensor systems? I can work some of those up, and Uncle will want to send along some things, too. I¡¯m not sure what. Probably some spidercrawlers to serve as sensor banks.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Eliot is going to handle reconnaissance.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Of course he is. Yes. Well¡­ Maybe he can put some stuff onto the spidercrawlers? Or...¡±

    The organization for the hunt proceeded in a rather normal fashion, though it was different from what Mark usually did. He had never gone on a rescue mission before and this wasn¡¯t a rescue mission, but Barba desperately wanted it to be a rescue mission. Julie twice said that Akailah was dead, but Barba did not want to believe it.

    ¡°I will believe she is dead when we have killed every goblin and found her spine or skull, and not a second before that.¡±

 176

    The lands outside of the eastern gate were grassy, flat, and devoid of any interesting features at all. Except for a few craters, of course. Big guns rested on the wall behind Mark, and they had taken pot shots at a few unfriendlies in the last day or so. Not goblins; other monsters. There were lots of things out there that went bump in the grass.

    Mark touched the side of his helmet where Eliot had installed some buttons, and said, ¡°Metal scan.¡±

    Eliot had not been happy about Mark and Isoko going out to kill goblins, but he understood. Sally understood, too. Sally mostly understood Barba¡¯s need for revenge, though she didn¡¯t say as much. She was glad Mark was helping Barba.

    That was 20 minutes ago, though, and now Mark was here.

    Eliot¡¯s voice filtered through Mark¡¯s earbuds, ¡°Shifting the scan. Quark seems to be picking up the controls I am putting down, but he won¡¯t be able to repair things once you¡¯re out there¡­¡± He wanted to say something that he didn¡¯t know how to say, so instead he said, ¡°Let me know how it looks.¡±

    Eliot¡¯s additions to Mark¡¯s helmet showed him pretty much what he expected to see.

    It was about 10 am, and Mark had a nice heads-up display that had a little radar with heat, and then metal, and then man-made scouting capabilities, all at the touch of a button, or, more realistically, at the verbal request for change. The man-made scan would fail when Mark got far enough away from the settlement, and Eliot, but the other stuff would work just fine.

    The metal scan worked well, and though Mark couldn¡¯t physically see Baron Herb Sacredcut¡¯s spiderbots, they were out there, visible as white dots in the distance, parting the grasses as they went. They were scouting ahead.

    Mark, Isoko, and Barba stood assembled on the rise leading toward the eastern gate. Two of Sacredcut¡¯s knights stood with them, a guy named Aaron, and another one named Samson; a Speedster and a Shielder. All of them were outfitted for a big monster hunt, though they¡¯d only be about 12 kilometers away from the city. 12 kilometers was still a big distance when it came to certain things, like the distance outside city walls.

    ¡°Screen off,¡± Mark said.

    The screen turned off, which was its normal readout, giving Mark an unobstructed view of the land ahead. If the system broke then Mark could either leave the lenses in his adamantium helmet, or take off the helmet and let the lenses drop. The ring of Repair on his left hand should keep the system working well enough¡­ unless there was a techie goblin out there. If there was a techie goblin then Mark would rip out the electronics from his helmet, since he could do that.

    There had been a quest to kill goblins for the last week, but no one had taken it seriously until yesterday.

    That quest had been updated as of 6 hours ago with the full spectrum of the settlement¡¯s capabilities. But it was still a soldier-level quest. The settlement hadn¡¯t found anything too untoward in the dragonoid canyons, though they had spotted a few goblins that might be problematic. A Stone Shaper goblin was providing cover for the main nest of goblins, located in tunnels in dragonoid territory, so the whole area was now listed as a part of the extermination quest.

    If they could save the dragonoids then they were appointed to do that, but killing them if they were infected with goblinspawn was a high priority as well.

    Mark and his team were going to be the spear. Three other teams were positioned far, far behind the dragonoid canyons, to ensure that green bastards didn¡¯t escape during the purge¡­

    And those other teams were not Mark¡¯s problem. Eliot and some of the other guys in the command center were coordinating all of that.

    Mark breathed, and said, ¡°Ready check.¡±

    ¡°Ready,¡± Isoko said.

    ¡°Ready,¡± Barba said, along with Aaron and Samson.

    And then a drone hummed as it fell into Mark¡¯s view.

    A hologram of Eliot appeared, standing midair, saying, ¡°Please promise me that you¡¯ll run if it turns out to be a real threat. We have the resources to annihilate the goblins from afar, and¡­¡± Eliot said nothing else. He was worried, and people were watching.

    He was probably still trying to convince Aurora to blow up the countryside, but he didn¡¯t want to say that, since people were watching and strength was necessary to both have, and show. Sometimes, showing off strength was even more important than having it.

    So it was a good thing Mark had both visible and actual strength.

    Mark grinned a little, the lower half of his face showing, as he said, ¡°We¡¯re going to kill those goblins, clear out the dragonoid habitat, and be back in time for your birthday dinner, Eliot, and no one is going to die¡­ Ah, but I suppose I should be more villainous, right? So¡­ How about this:¡± Mark solidified his face and said, ¡°Goblins aren¡¯t allowed to live in my presence.¡±

    And then he slipped the lower half of his mask into place and nodded to Aaron. Aaron was in charge of the hovercart that was parked down below, next to a spiderbot that was under the control of Herb Sacredcut, back at his manor. Aaron would be driving them to the encampment.

    Aaron looked to Barba, because Aaron was under her authority and not Mark¡¯s, and Barba gave Aaron a smaller nod.

    In a flick of light, Aaron was now sitting in the driver¡¯s seat of the hovercraft. He wasn¡¯t a speedster like Isoko or David were speedsters. He was as fast as light, and with about as much punch, meaning none at all.

    Everyone else walked down to the hovercraft, piling into the open-air vehicle, though Mark positioned himself to hold on with some adamantium clips, onto the front and the rear of the vehicle. He tried not to dig into the metal too much, but adamantium against normal steel was the same as fingers versus somewhat dense sand.

    Aaron punched the throttle and then they were off.

    Mark¡¯s metal dug in, just a little bit.

    - - - -

    Mark watched and listened to Barba as the hovercraft zoomed over the grassland.

    With one hand on the cart and another holding up her watch, Barba displayed a map of the dragonoid canyons, as she explained about the place, and what they should expect. It was like the trip to the Hollow Gourd hunting grounds, but the air was a lot more tense, because Barba didn¡¯t know much about the goblins. She knew about the dragonoids, though.

    ¡°It¡¯s mostly a canyon area, built up by some great dragon fight however long ago. Someone dated it as 60 years old, but it could be much younger. There¡¯s no way to really know. Dragonblood landed all over the place and gave rise to the dragonoids that live there. They¡¯re basically mutated animals. All of them are slightly different. All of them look mostly the same. Craggy black skins that are not scales at all, and a bigger body than an animal of the same type. Mostly cat-type monsters. They climb if they want, but mostly they laze around in their territories. The small ones are almost normal animals; you can mostly ignore them. The larger ones can be dangerous.

    ¡°They¡¯re not that strong or smart or anything like that. They are durable.

    ¡°Goblins try to turn them all the time, but normal goblins can¡¯t do it. Dragonoids only really die to old age, or to massive changes in their environment. The place might look like a bunch of canyons loosely connected to each other¡ª claw swipes and a tail crash and then this area over here where one dragon was pinned on its back, into the ground¡­ But it¡¯s a delicate ecosystem. The blood seeped into the plants and the plants grow all kinds of raw mana, and the only things that live there are the dragonoids, because they ate the plants and they survived, and every other animal just dies. And now the dragonoids that survived produce mana crystals as byproducts of removing mana from their bodies. You might find crystals discarded on the ground, but those are usually absorbed by the plants to grow again, so we harvest from the dragonoids themselves.

    ¡°Every harvest is different. Every crystal needs to be categorized and studied independently. None of it is easy. Most of the really good crystals we¡¯ve exported come from there.

    ¡°Aurora doesn¡¯t want to blast the place because she¡¯d need to level it to bedrock to get rid of the goblins, and that would destroy the environment. These places pop up and die all the time, and it¡¯s probably going to get destroyed in a kaiju attack eventually, but the long-term goal is to subsume it into the city, into a protected space, when the city eventually grows large enough to surround the canyons.

    ¡°We enter through here, in this area next to the lizard-shaped dragonoid. It¡¯s¡­¡± Barba took a breath, as she gripped the hovercart hard, her fingers turning white under the pressure. She shook out the hand that held the holographic map on her wrist projector. She was having emotional trouble, but she got it under control. She lifted the map back up and continued, ¡°It¡¯s this space over here. That dragonoid is usually rather calm, so it¡¯s the usual entry point. It¡¯s always hanging out on the sunning rock over there. It wasn¡¯t there when we went through the area¡­ That should have been our clue that something was wrong. But we went in anyway, over to the next area.

    ¡°Our goal was the fourth canyon in, two lefts and then a right, into the pawprint canyon. That¡¯s where we were attacked. That¡¯s where the major traps ended up being. The goblins live in that canyon, most of all.

    ¡°Goblins harassed us all the way back to the lizard zone, though. Traps¡­ So many traps we did not see.¡±

    Mark looked at the map, but they were getting closer to the canyons. Barba fell silent and everyone watched the land ahead, as the flat grasses of the plains gave way to sudden spires of stone, and large walls covered in broken black stuff, and also growing glowing magical plants.

    Aaron slowed the vehicle down, and soon they were gliding along at a few kilometers an hour, taking in the sight.

    It was easy to see that multiple kaiju had fought and bled in this place.

    The vectors of crawling goblins already tugged at the air, like scrabbling claws, pulling toward the human vehicle and its occupants. Mark felt the vectors of goblins recognizing ¡®prey¡¯, but he¡¯d get to that in a moment. The canyons were still a kilometer away, though there were some strange vectors on the open fields between here and there.

    Mark said, ¡°They have scouting posts out here. Slow down further.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Barba spat. She looked outward, standing on the cart, trying to see something that was very well hidden. ¡°Where?!¡±

    Aaron spoke up, ¡°Might be illusions in the air, miss.¡± He slowed down, but he wasn¡¯t sure where to go now. He looked to Mark. ¡°Where am I parking?¡±

    The plan had been to park on the open dirt about a hundred meters from the entrance to the canyon, where the crater wall had crashed down, revealing the colorful land beyond. But the goblins had set up sentry posts, or something, in the grasslands all the way out here.

    Barba was a taut string, ready to snap or fire at the enemy, and Mark wondered if she was good to go, or not.

    ¡°Hundred meters more then stop,¡± Mark said, and then he purposefully looked at Barba.

    She realized he was looking at her, so she looked up and saw the lower half of his face, if nothing else. Barba focused. She nodded.

    Mark said, ¡°Soon as you stop, I¡¯ll lead the way.¡±

    Nods all around.

    Isoko said, ¡°I can almost sense them but not when they¡¯re this far away. I¡¯ll take up the rear.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on front,¡± Mark said, and then he asked Eliot, ¡°Your Man-made scouter still working? Or are we too far?¡±

    Aaron stopped the vehicle over the tall grass. This place was perfect for ambushing, or at least it would have been perfect. But other things were already in the grasses right now.

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Herb¡¯s spiderbots crawled fast across the ground, parting the grass as they went, their silver hulls barely appearing above the green. Eliot¡¯s drones floated overhead, whirring gently.

    ¡°You¡¯re kinda far,¡± Eliot said. ¡°I¡¯m working on¡­ it.¡± Pause. ¡°Not gonna work. Let¡¯s try this instead: Focus on the area and then blink twice. I¡¯ll paint it that way. It¡¯s less exact, but it will work¡­ And I think Quark can interface with your lenses so you don¡¯t have to input with blinks¡­ Yeah. There we go. Where you focus, it will highlight for everyone. So you just gotta actually look at the targets, Mark.¡±

    Mark caught sight of a big boulder in the grasses that was an obvious lookout zone, but the vector in that area was to the left of the rock, by about 20 meters. So a lookout zone and a retreat spot.

    Mark blinked at the retreat spot.

    The lenses of Mark¡¯s sights flickered under his direction and the retreat zone was painted red.

    From the jerks of every head in the hovercraft, and every spiderbot on the ground, they all got the same information on their own receivers.

    Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m taking point.¡±

    And then he hopped off of the hovercraft, flying forward over the grasses, caltrops ripping up the grasses as he flew, and then he was 10 meters from the target. The target was already freaking out, but¡­ it was not freaking out. It was horny as fuck.

    Ugh.

    Stupid fucking goblins and their stupid fucking¡­ everything!

    At least goblins were easy to tell apart from people. There was nothing quite like goblin when it came to ¡®hateful horny¡¯ with a side of hunger. Plus, the thing¡¯s vector was only the size of a goblin, at less than a meter tall.

    It was about three meters below the ground, too, so it was very well hidden. It probably was some fucking hive mind goblin. How else would it connect to the rest of them in the forests of the dragonoid canyon? Could be a techie, but no techies had been kidnapped; only a Marksman. Tech monsters were rare this far away from the main human lands.

    It probably wasn¡¯t a techie goblin.

    Mark whipped his adamantium weapons into a curved blade a meter long, and then, like he was taking a finger to mud, Mark cut a blazing line through the grasses and the stone underneath, all the way into the hiding hole under the ground. The stone screamed under Mark¡¯s direction, grasses catching sparks and then smoking, and then something else screamed down below Mark¡¯s reach.

    With a finger of adamantium, Mark wrapped around the monster underneath and then dragged him out of the hole, ripping half of a goblin out of the dirt. Green eyes met Mark¡¯s covered eyes, and then Mark sliced through the entire thing, spreading goblin parts over the ground.

    Mark felt a bit of fear from the other goblins at the treeline, but he also felt the normal goblin response to seeing a power stand before them. They were all fucking horny! Gods!

    Disgusting.

    Mark glanced down into the hole he had made in the ground, saying, ¡°Need a light. Need to know if that was a Hive Mind goblin, or if there¡¯s tech down there in that hole.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Tap your camera, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Oh right.¡±

    Mark tapped his helmet and the metal scan turned on, but one of Herb¡¯s spiderbots was already crawling this way. Mark tried not to freak out at the thing suddenly being there. Like all machines, it did not have a vector. It did have a voice, though.

    Herb said, ¡°Let me check. Widen the hole?¡±

    Mark widened the hole, ripping stone out of the ground with a grip and a tear.

    The spiderbot descended into the darkness.

    Mark didn¡¯t see any white outlines on his own metal scan, but an actual check from an actual techie would be useful¡ª

    ¡°Just a hiding hole!¡± Herb said, as the spiderbot crawled out of the ground. ¡°Hive mind goblins. They know you¡¯re here.¡±

    Mark nodded at the confirmation of what he already knew. No tech-based goblins. Just trappers and hive minders, living inside one of the common wonders of Daihoon.

    Mark gazed out at the start of the dragonoid canyon, which was a big gap in a crater wall. Trees of all sizes and colors grew on the other side of the crater wall, but some of the growth had spilled outward, onto the plains. It didn¡¯t spill much further than that. The power was inside those craters; it died when it left the craters.

    That power made trees grow glittering pink, and vibrant orange or red, and some were even blue and gold. Some trees were normal, but those were the outliers, and they probably weren¡¯t normal up close; Mark just couldn¡¯t see what made them special from this distance. He did see one giant fern sticking out over there, and it might have been growing glowing mushrooms on the edges of its leaves.

    The greenery and the land itself was a tumult of height and color, completely at odds with the normal land around here, which was flat as fuck. Stone spires rose here and there, and Mark was pretty sure he saw a big craggy black lizard sunning itself on the tallest spire over there. Though that ¡®lizard¡¯ could have been a part of the rock. It wasn¡¯t moving and it had no vector right now. Was it alive? It was hard to tell. A lot of the rock inside of the canyon was blasted black. Some of that black coloring seemed to drip down through cracks in the crater walls, like oil burbling out of the ground, leaving behind a plethora of green things growing all around the black.

    There was even a tree on fire, growing next to one of those black streams on the exterior of the crater wall. That tree had a lot of space to itself. Probably because it was on fire.

    It was all so fantastical that Mark instantly felt the need to preserve it, because this was what he came to Daihoon to see. The sights, the monsters, the power and the magic.

    ¡°But goblins need killing, first,¡± Mark muttered to himself. And then he turned and said, ¡°Pardon me while I clear the grass.¡±

    Mark beat his heart with Union, connecting to every single plant in the area, from here to the edge of the canyon, and then he thrummed with decay and renewal; a special form of sustenance/deprivation.

    The grasses wilted and then they died.

    Mark beheld a land of withered grasses, with a few still-green additions here and there. A wind blew and the grasses turned to dust, for Mark had drawn out their water and their everything, giving it to the world instead.

    The still-green spots lifted out of the decayed grasses. Four of them.

    Four goblins witnessed the destruction of their hiding areas.

    Herb¡¯s spiderbots clink-clunk¡¯d, opening their hatches, exposing the barrels of their sniper rifles. Four shots rang out, almost in concert.

    Three goblin heads exploded. The last goblin had ducked as he ran back toward the canyon¡ª

    A fifth shot rang out, but not from the bots.

    Mark looked back at Barba, who was standing on the solid ground and holding a big rifle with a smoking barrel. Her arm shook a little and she breathed hard, but her eyes were focused. That was a good shot.

    Mark turned back toward the crater-canyon, to figure out the various lookouts looking out at them.

    An overhang covered in moss held several vectors pointed their way.

    Another pair of vectors held at the top of a tall spire of rock.

    And then, finally, there was one tree to the far side, up and away from the fire tree, where a goblin wasn¡¯t in any sort of formation, but they were staring this way.

    Mark couldn¡¯t actually see any of them at all. But he could sense them. Mark blinked and blinked, lighting the targets, saying, ¡°The enemy is there, there, and there. They¡¯ve dug in. This is a bad infestation.¡±

    Wordlessly, Barba lifted her gun again.

    And then she raised the barrel a little bit more, aiming to the area beyond the fire tree. Mark watched and felt as Barba¡¯s vector slipped into her rifle. A moment crystallized as Barba breathed out and gently pressed the trigger. The gun tried to kick, but Barba held strong. The muzzle flashed.

    It was kinda loud, but not really. It was an enchanted rifle, so it had a lot of tricks to it, but most of what Mark was seeing was all Barba.

    Barba¡¯s vector traveled with the bullet only a little, and then the payload left her astral body, sent on its way to connect to that lonely, hungry vector in the distance, up the tree next to the fire tree. Mark didn¡¯t see the bullet hit the goblin, but he felt the goblin¡¯s vector splatter and then vanish, like a thread tucked back into the distorted fabric of reality. The hungry, focused vector vanished.

    It was a pretty normal way in which things died.

    But that was still a 400+ meter shot.

    Mark smiled as he called out to Barba, ¡°I thought you used a bow!¡±

    Barba called back, ¡°Guns have their uses.¡±

    And then she faltered a little, her body strained just as much as her astral self.

    Mark was already healing her. She¡¯d be fine in a few more heartbeats.

    Mark nodded, and then he put his lower mask into place and his voice carried on the coms in his helmet. ¡°Castle formation. I¡¯m on point. We¡¯ll take it slow¡ª¡±

    ¡°One moment, please,¡± Eliot spoke, and the whole team listened.

    Mark waited.

    ¡°Mark, this is just for you,¡± Eliot spoke in Mark¡¯s ear, ¡°Aurora wants to say something.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Mark,¡± Aurora said. ¡°If you retreat then I¡¯m making the decision to destroy it all. Don¡¯t get in over your head. Good luck.¡±

    Mark solidly said, ¡°Heard and understood.¡±

    And then he led the way.

 177

    The layout of the dragonoid canyons was well known.

    It was all mapped long before Mark and the goblins ever showed up. If he wanted, Mark had a display in his lens that was updating in real time, comparing the scans in town to the scans of Eliot¡¯s and Herb Sacredcut¡¯s drones that were flying through the crater-canyons right now. Those drones marked out new events in the landscape ahead, and they were using the full weight of the command center of the settlement to make the mapping easier, and to coordinate with other Techies.

    The rocky outcropping up there, where the goblins were lying in wait on the exterior of the canyon wall, in surveillance, was updated with an orange outline in Mark¡¯s lenses, indicating that it was a new area, Shaped by something or someone. In this case they all knew it was goblins. Someone updated Mark¡¯s visor with the words ¡®goblin lookout¡¯.

    As Mark glanced to the left, at the other major lookout, someone updated the map with another ¡®lookout¡¯ tag overlay.

    Mark was partially responsible for those overlays, because Eliot was piggybacking off of Mark¡¯s sight and Quark¡¯s help, to show where Mark¡¯s Unionsense was telling him were goblin locations. This much information might have been good for some people, but not for him. Eliot always put too many things into his sight.

    ¡°Downplay the lens updates, Eliot,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Paring down the readout,¡± Eliot responded.

    Mark¡¯s sight cleared of all text and all possible obstructions, though the orange outline on the goblin footholds remained. That was good.

    Isoko asked, ¡°What¡¯s it looking like inside?¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Compared to last known readouts and current lay of the land, there are traps inside the canyons. Some are obvious. According to what I am seeing, it might be safer for you to trigger the obvious traps, which seem to be laid down along the normal paths, or just beside the normal paths. We¡¯re seeing evidence of hidden traps alongside side passages, and evidence that the goblins don¡¯t have any exterior structures at all, so the outside is trapped and they get around in tunnels. There¡¯s something developing in the next canyon over, but we¡¯ll keep an eye on that. As for right here, the big, exterior traps are human-sized. There¡¯s one big rockfall trap¡ª Fuck.¡±

    Mark tensed.

    ¡°They saw my drone... They¡¯re picking off the drones. Switching off to high surveillance.¡±

    Mark breathed out slowly, hovering there above the hole he had made in the ground, and above the debris of the goblin he had already killed. He waited.

    Eliot came back, ¡°The main roads are trapped in big ways. You¡¯ll be able to see those traps. Smaller traps wait below the big traps. I saw crossbows and bolts that were dripping with green sludge. It¡¯s probably goblinspit. That¡¯s how Barba and Onoho got infected as they were running.¡±

    ¡°Is it tinker tech?¡± Isoko asked.

    ¡°¡­ Didn¡¯t look that well made¡­¡± Eliot paused. ¡°I¡¯m going to say ¡®no¡¯. Someone just has a Mind for it. Not the actual Tinker touch. Expect a lot of armed goblins firing from the canyon walls and from trees and from that place they¡¯re making in the other canyon when you get there.¡± Eliot strongly added, ¡°These goblins are almost as advanced as humans, Akailah is likely dead, and they almost surely have Marksman goblins through using her as an incubator. They absolutely have various kinds of brawny goblins, because Vikas was a True Brawny, and Denaka was a Spotter so they have Spotter goblins, too.

    ¡°Some of the guys here are checking on the dragonoids, and the goblins might have actually gotten a few of them.¡± Pause. ¡°Maybe two. We¡¯re seeing the lizard dragonoid, and most of the rest¡­ Yes. All except for the¡­¡± Longer pause. ¡°Ah, fuck. The mole dragonoid of claw canyon might be deep underground and hiding, but he might be dead, and that¡¯s how the goblins have burrowed in everywhere. Not just the Stone Shaper goblin that we know they have. The bird dragonoid of tower canyon is missing. It¡¯s not always here, though. It travels to another dragonoid canyon 300 kilometers south, by the coast. Hopefully that bird one hasn¡¯t been subsumed. If it has, expect very fast flying goblins.¡±

    Not a time for normal killing, then.

    Time for the big guns.

    Mark said, ¡°Heard and understood. Going in Union blazing.¡±

    Eliot muttered softly, ¡°Thank Freyala.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Here.¡±

    And then she reached out with Union, in a rather normal way for the two of them.

    Isoko couldn¡¯t do offensive Unions at all, so she couldn¡¯t link with Mark directly to help him with his own Unionwork. Their Unions wouldn¡¯t be directly meshing, but ¡®having two cores to a computer¡¯ was better than one, in a lot of good ways. It was pretty much what they did all the time, out in the wilds, when the going got tough and Mark needed to kill indiscriminately.

    Mark pulled in his adamantium, almost standing on the ground but not quite, to give himself a lot more range with Union. The canyon wall was 400-ish meters away, and that was at the far end of Mark¡¯s range. With Isoko¡¯s Union beating hard in her own way, connecting to the world and to Mark and Barba and her people, Mark reached back to Isoko, and then he reached out.

    Black lightning shocked forward.

    Mark braindanced with a Union of vein integrity and decay, while he beat his heart with the meaning of adamant and weakness, making his team stronger in most every way as he reached into the walls of the canyon, into the stone, to every single goblin vector that pointed his way. Mark could not actually see the targets, so it was almost reckless to use this Power without visual confirmation, but Mark knew what a goblin-vector felt like with 99.9% certainty. It was enough for him.

    The effect was not immediate at all.

    All the goblins up there could see Mark and his team, since they were certainly Spotters born of the Spotter girl, or otherwise. They saw the beating black lightning reaching in their direction. It did not seem to reach all the way, as the lightning vanished after a 120-ish meters. The vectors of the goblins briefly turned worried, and then elated at Mark¡¯s inadequate range.

    But the reason Mark¡¯s lightning vanished was not because it couldn¡¯t reach, but because Mark was threading into the world, first.

    Black lightning zapped out from each goblin, from their hearts and minds, and their brief elation turned to something else. Something worried. Mark couldn¡¯t see them, but he imagined that they were looking at their bodies, at the black lightning crawling out of their skin and dancing off of their green heads. They probably started to cough, first, their concerns pointed inward, their vectors pointed at each other. And then they probably felt woozy.

    And then,

    Panic.

    Movement.

    The stone outcropping boiled with worried vectors that infected tens of other vectors out there, unseen mind goblins transferring panicked thoughts far and wide, but only the four bodies in the outcropping moved. They raced inward, down unseen tunnels, four different green bodies running away from Mark, deeper into the canyon wall. There might have been tiny screams. Warnings. The mental warnings to the other Mind goblins out there did more than the verbal ones. The goblins elsewhere began to organize in strange ways.

    Mark was still connected to the original four. Still decaying them from the inside, while supporting his own team here, 400 meters away from the canyon wall.

    Mark walked forward, on his actual legs, sussing out the encampments through their tangled vectors.

    It was sort of like watching ripples in a pond made of people.

    The other lookout area was still watching them. Mark didn¡¯t want anyone seeing their arrival, so he connected to them, too, and there was no tunnel in that part of the canyon wall for whatever reason. Mark was using the first group of 4 goblins to suss out the rest, but the other lookout goblins were on their own. Mark crunched in on them. Those goblins began to die and panic, and so they rushed out into the light, green blood turning black¡­ Maybe. They were too far for Mark to see¡ª

    Pop!

    And then again: Pop!

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Goblin heads disappeared, and Mark turned and saw Barba¡¯s smoking rifle. She wasn¡¯t shaking at all. She looked better. Mark¡¯s Union was helping her, of course, and Isoko was right there with her, too, also providing a Union. Barba lowered her rifle and walked forward with her knights Aaron and Samson behind her, spread out to both sides. Isoko was in front, between Barba and Mark, but a lot closer to Barba.

    They continued forward.

    Goblins died out of sight, though Mark knew what they were seeing before they died.

    The goblins that went inward, to the others, were like monsters being released into a crowded room. Everyone saw that they were infected with something, and that they were dying, and then black lightning infection ¡®spread¡¯ to them. More and more goblin vectors were suddenly worried about what was happening, though a few got excited to see their fellows dying before them. The deaths of the lookouts meant that more people were coming, and more people meant more goblins, if they could win the fight. As some goblins died, their uncaring brothers watching them with glee, the vectors of maybe 25 goblins split their focus between the dying and one stronger vector, standing taller among the rest. That single vector poked the others into line, into some sort of response.

    Mark connected to that single vector and through him, all the rest.

    The goblins panicked as their leader died as fast as Mark could kill him, which turned out to be 3 heartbeats. And then Mark moved among the populace.

    For the weaker goblins, their hearts split inside their chests, or their brains leaked out of their ears, or their bodies simply stopped working as vessels burst in their brains. Half of the goblins were dead within 10 seconds. The other half started running away, toward other encampments in the canyon walls. There was some sort of magical response that amounted to pushback on Mark¡¯s Power, and which Mark plowed through with adamant strength.

    Most of the goblins could do nothing but die.

    Some managed to run, their goals to organize a bigger response.

    Mark estimated the deaths as he walked forward. Ten. Twenty. Thirty dead goblins. And then Mark was 350 meters away, and he hit some big encampment of goblins inside of the canyon walls, and he felt several goblins rebuff him. Mark focused on those ones as he walked forward, across the decayed grasses outside of the first dragonoid canyon.

    ¡­ Hmm.

    Mark spoke for the first time in a few minutes, ¡°Looks like some of them aren¡¯t dying immediately, but I think that¡¯s something like three hundred killed so far. Confirm the village, Eliot?¡± Mark added, ¡°Inside, to the right, maybe 20 meters in from the walls?¡±

    ¡°Looking,¡± Eliot said.

    Mark kept walking¡ª

    ¡°That¡¯s just a stone rise. If there¡¯s a village then it is underground.¡± Eliot added, ¡°The big goblin encampment is one valley over.¡±

    Mark was losing their vectors as they ran to get away, and as they did¡­ something. Ah. Mark realized what was happening. ¡°I think some of them have really strong Body Powers, and someone is a Healer¡­ There is a rallying response. Lot of healers, I think. I¡¯m still killing, but there are at least¡­ 20-ish, that are resisting death. A few are completely immune to what I am doing. Don¡¯t know what that is about. They probably don¡¯t have normal physiology.¡±

    Mark was 200 meters from the entrance to the canyon, and he kept going, splitting his focus on what he sensed, versus what he saw.

    Dragonoid canyons the world over were all made in the same way. Dragon fights tore up the land, and dragon blood spilled everywhere. The canyon wall ahead of Mark was a crater wall, from where some kilometers-long dragon had fallen and fought with another such monster.

    The gap in the crater wall showed a land of multicolored trees, some of them glowing bright pink or green. Colorful vines were the only thing from inside the canyon that managed to make it out of the canyon. The black blood of dragons only existed in the canyons, and so the glowing plants only grew inside.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure how the ¡®blood of dragons¡¯ kept being replenished, and why it remained only inside of the canyons, because surely the plants ate it all, right? But maybe there was something of a cycle going on, and maybe ¡®dragon blood¡¯ wasn¡¯t literal. But, whatever!

    Mark focused on the gap in the canyon wall. The stone to the sides of the passage towered like a gateway to a city. He was still 100 meters away, but now that Mark was closer he could see the traps on the walls. Big rocks, mainly. The rocks were positioned perfectly so that they would fall into the gap and thus crush anything in the middle, or, more likely, split any group of humans that happened to be going through the gap.

    Mark did not go into the canyon.

    Instead, he focused on the goblins who were rallying just on the other side of the gap, and up there, by the boulders ready to fall.

    Strangely enough, Mark couldn¡¯t see the goblins by the boulders at all. He counted 3 vectors, though.

    He stared up at the boulders, trying to figure out what was wrong.

    He could not.

    ¡°Barba. See those boulders up there?¡±

    Barba¡¯s vector told a story that her mouth never did. She was already looking up there, and feeling sick to her stomach. Dread filled her, but also hate. She could not see anything, either, but she could tell that something was up there, and it was watching.

    Mark said, ¡°The second boulder in the middle. I need you to shoot about a meter to the right, at goblin height.¡±

    Barba lifted and shot in less than a second of turnaround from Mark¡¯s order.

    Something distorted up there, but not in any way that Mark understood, except that the vector turned tail and ran inside of the walls. For the briefest of moments, though, Mark had connected to that vector. As black lightning beat from his body, filling the world, black lightning had reciprocated off of the goblin up there.

    And then the connection vanished.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Mark huffed, thinking that he needed to do some sort of weird union to connect to that goblin, who obviously didn¡¯t have any sort of normal physiology¡ª

    ¡°It¡¯s that fucking blue goblin!¡± Barba spat.

    Eliot¡¯s voice came over the coms, ¡°I saw it, too. Give us a moment to confer¡ª Okay that was fast. We¡¯re 90% confirming blue goblin as a Lightself. Could be a Body, Shaper, or an Arch Skill. It no-sells a lot of other Skills. If you can connect to him with Union and make him drop his Skill you should be able to kill him.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°I was connected while he wasn¡¯t in his Lightself, when Barba disrupted it, but now he and several others are running away instead of preparing their ambush, but yeah,¡± Mark finished his thought from before, ¡°I¡¯ll make him sleep, or something, and I¡¯ll switch when I need to switch. Right now I¡¯m still killing hundreds of goblins per minute inside of the walls of the crater.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure what, exactly, he would switch to, in order to connect to the goblin in the first place, but he¡¯d figure it out. He had a few good ideas already, like drawing the goblin into a Union of physical versus ephemeral. Maybe a Union of war, with them on two sides of the fight? That could be enough. It was usually enough for spars between Mark and other people, but for a goblin? Mark didn¡¯t know.

    Mark turned and asked Aaron, ¡°Can you trigger the boulder trap without being exposed yourself?¡±

    Aaron said, ¡°Lightspeed goes fast, but entering and exiting does take a second. I can still do it. Just the boulders?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Aaron vanished in a flicker, reappearing up by the boulders. He kicked them and sent them tumbling, and then he flickered back to castle formation, standing with Samson and Barba. Barba¡¯s finger held beside her rifle¡¯s trigger. Samson had out his shield and mace and his shield was glowing with a soft grey light, filled with his Shielder Skill. They were prepped for defense, and Samson should be able to have everyone hunker down for a fallback location at any moment.

    Mark wasn¡¯t sure exactly how ¡®Shielder¡¯ worked, or Lightspeed or Hunter for that matter, but he¡¯d figure out fast enough.

    The boulders collapsed into the gap in the crater wall with a great clatter and breaking. Some small trees got smashed, and then something stranger happened. A cloud of green light filtered into the air, and then dissipated to green smoke that flowed everywhere.

    Mark switched to purity/impurity. A crash of black lightning cleared the air before any of the green stuff got anywhere near anyone at all. Mark still got a small whiff of whatever it was. It smelled like something sick. Like bile or¡­ something.

    Barba muttered, ¡°Goblingas.¡±

    Oh yeah. That¡¯s what it was.

    It was the same stuff as their spit, infecting anyone it touched with Goblin Bite, but less effective. It only worked on people who were close to death. It was a tool meant to irritate¡­ or maybe to blind? For the real trap out there? Well now Mark was getting cautious. Maybe they were supposed to trigger the gas before the boulders got tossed down on them? Or maybe the gas was for a different trap¡­

    Mark paused, as he recognized the danger ahead. These were smart monsters. He knew that. They were like little, vicious humans, who were just plain murderous. Practically demon cultists. And now he was second guessing himself, because these bastards could plan.

    Mark switched back to his killing Unions as he asked Eliot, or whoever might be listening on the coms, ¡°How important is keeping the trees alive?¡±

    Barba answered, ¡°The forest will regrow from anything as long as the destruction isn¡¯t too great. Blighting would be death to the ecology.¡±

    ¡°¡­ How about a little bit of blighting?¡±

    Barba didn¡¯t have an opinion.

    ¡­ Well. Mark needed clear lines of sight, for the land in there was surely trapped to shit. He might have a good helmet now, but all the rest of him was simple ablative armor, and though it held up exceedingly well to the occasional unexpected claw or whatever¡­ traps were another matter altogether. Honestly, traps were Mark¡¯s main weakness. Traps had no vectors. Plus, everyone else was vulnerable to traps, too, of course.

    So¡­ blighting down the main paths, only.

    Mark stared forward, into the cavernous, multicolored green, saying, ¡°Blighting a path.¡±

    If he even could. Some of those plants were surely monsters¡­ So.

    Maybe Mark could feed some of the monsters to the other monsters. Yes. That would probably work well.

    Barba hummed, almost in acknowledgment, or maybe in objection, but that was the extent of her opinion.

 178

    Mark reached forward, into the canyon, down the main paths, and to the sides. The trees practically woke up at Mark¡¯s touch, though only a few of them were monstrous, with actual vectors. All of them were magical, though, and that meant something that Mark had never thought of before this moment. As they connected to him, to each other, and to the world they all glowed even brighter than before.

    And then Mark switched his Union to one of decay and renewal, giving the plants to the far sides of the path adamant strength, while foisting off all of their weaknesses into the plants down the main path, directly ahead. It was like ringing a dinner bell for the plants.

    The effect was like the blighting Mark had done to the grasslands, but weirder, because some of the plants burst into flames, burning their neighbors and spreading seeds, while others died and then mushrooms sprouted from the decaying wood, that then spread on the wind to other trees and burrowed inside. Some trees simply grew up and around the weaker ones, devouring them from the inside.

    The forest boiled with activity, the lands in front of Mark decaying down in acts of violent death while the plants to the side grew taller and stronger, their roots reaching everywhere, carrying Mark¡¯s Union with them.

    Mark watched as crossbow traps fired in the trees, scattering bolts into the air like arterial spray as the crossbows themselves tumbled off of decaying branches. It was like setting off a chain of firecrackers, and also the forest was exploding with action at the same time.

    Four minutes later, a good 50 meter wide path opened up on the other side of the crater wall. It was layered with dead, desiccated trees and otherwise, while the sides of the path became primeval forests. Barba was frightened to see those big trees, her eyes caught on one silver-leaf willow tree in particular. The willow¡¯s long branches were plucking at the ground, at the trees near it, grabbing what it could and ripping it apart with almost gentle touches. The tree didn¡¯t look like it was actively killing everything that was nearby. But that¡¯s what it was doing. Ripping and tearing almost gracefully, and then curling around the debris and bringing it up into its canopy, for whatever reason. Probably for eating.

    Mark was pretty sure it was not a monster, for it had no vector, but that didn¡¯t stop it from stimulus-response-ing all of its surroundings, eating everything it touched.

    Mark looked at Barba. ¡°Should I be worried?¡±

    Barba responded, ¡°That¡¯s a Lashing Willow. If you touch a branch improperly it will pull you apart. It¡¯s an exceedingly valuable tree for making bows.¡± And then she looked to the right, further down the path, at another flaming tree. ¡°That Flare Pine is much better than the one on the crater wall.¡±

    Mark almost expected her to say more, but she went silent. She refocused on the hunt for goblins.

    Mark refocused, too.

    And then he reached out into the world, questing for the bastard goblins in the tunnels underfoot, in their tunnels under the crater wall, and further in, at the colony to the right, beyond the wall. Mark¡¯s brief respite from killing them did not go unnoticed. Mark¡¯s reprieve had been like a ripple sent out amongst the hive mind goblins, and then among all the rest, a message that got spread far and fast, along with the most overriding message, of course. They saw vulnerability, thinking that Mark couldn¡¯t do more than this, that he had to be done, that he was ripe for the biting.

    Fresh meat was here, if only they could grab it.

    So, of course, they rallied.

    They watched Mark from some lightself goblin far ahead, by the treeline, and some hive mind goblin with that one, which did not want to be there, but he was there anyway. From that point of sight, they saw Mark and his team preparing to come in.

    They were preparing to surround, as soon as Mark and his people stepped into the trap.

    The field ahead was big, though.

    Mark breathed deep, and then he reconnected to the goblins. He started killing the weaker ones, not really focused on anything in particular, because he knew he would have to save his strength for the real fight. Some goblins watched as their brothers died and they did not care, because they were fine.

    For now.

    Goblins followed a rather predictable order of events when they saw prey. Smart goblins, like these, might vary a little, but they would generally do normal things, which meant that as long as Mark, Isoko, Barba, Aaron, and Samson, were out in the open, the goblins would try to hunt them. Endlessly. The goblins would not stop coming until they were routed, and at that point they would scatter and start biting anything they could to replenish their numbers. Since some of these goblins were strong, they would not rout easily.

    Other teams were on standby for when they ran, though.

    ¡­ And that was enough prepping, yup.

    Mark had gotten the lay of the land and he transformed the land to be more conducive to him and his team, killing the weaker goblins within the nearest 300 meters. There were thousands of them, and Mark was killing ten of the weakest ones every second. He left the hive mind goblins alone when he felt them, so that they continued to communicate with their brothers and draw out more and more goblins from all over the canyons, but he¡¯d turn up the power to kill hundreds per second when they started to show, for real, when Mark and his crew got into position.

    Mark said, ¡°Go time.¡±

    And then Mark floated through the crater opening, where black tar marred the stone like dripping blood, and his people followed behind.

    The goblins reacted immediately, their hunger spiking, the vectors deep in the walls under the mulched ground all rippling in time to the messages that their spotters relayed. Some of them tried to surround, to head back into the crater wall tunnels Mark had emptied, even before Mark and his people had fully entered the dragonoid canyon. Mark focused on killing those ones the most. He wasn¡¯t about to be surrounded¡ª

    And then Mark was inside of the dragonoid canyon, and briefly found himself in awe of the sight before him. It was colorful. It smelled like a home away from home. Muggy, like a day in the Floridas in the summer. Outside, winter was a day away, the blue ice auroras encroaching on the sky overhead, but here, it was high summer. Birds tweeted. Bugs buzzed. The plants glowed strange colors, and the mulch underfoot was dead right now, but Mark felt questing vectors from plants encroaching on that mulch, and Mark knew this 50 meter wide hallway would be closed within a week.

    Not any animal-shaped vectors, though, which was weird¡­

    Unless the goblins ate them all?

    Mark got his head back in the game. He floated forward, killing goblins far out of sight, as he told his people, ¡°The strong ones are approaching. We¡¯re running in, away from the walls, to an empty area up ahead. They have sniper nests high on the crater wall to the right. Move.¡±

    Mark dashed ahead, flowing on astral limbs with adamantium claws across the mulched path.

    His team flowed in with him, all of them moving in their own different ways.

    Something pinged on Mark¡¯s back, but it deflected on his armor. Something broke against an ephemeral shield that Samson held up. Barba dodged an arrow, and Aaron was never in danger of getting hit at all. The arrows broke against Isoko, not doing anything at all to any part of her.

    Isoko was easily standing on top of the mulch, her Platinum Body fully active and helping her move as though there wasn¡¯t a meter of debris covering the actual ground. Barba simply didn¡¯t fall into the debris field, her feet easily alighting on the most secure broken logs and otherwise, her path set. Aaron flickered from spot to spot, keeping pace with the team. When he dropped out of his Lightspeed he was already partially stuck in the debris, but only up to his calves. Samson had some sort of enchanted footwear that made him simply not care about the solidity of the ground underfoot. Those three had a lot of trinkets, of course.

    Mark wore his spellbreaker and his smaller trinkets, and only the spellbreaker would be of any real use today. Isoko was the one laden with a backpack full of the supplies that House Sacredcut had offered for Mark and Isoko for the goblin hunt, but Aaron had the bag full of supplies for himself, Barba, and Samson.

    All of those supplies would hopefully go unused.

    Mark killed the goblins up by the wall, and the arrows stopped. He felt the goblins try to surround them, deep underground, but they weren¡¯t headed this way quite yet. They recognized that Mark and them were moving fast, deep into the valley, and they didn¡¯t know where they were going to stop. Spotter goblins were relaying their positions through mind goblins to the horde underfoot, and Mark left those spotter goblins alone. For now.

    They reached the end of the tunnel in the forest that Mark had created, so Mark extended the tunnel, focusing on decay and renewal, and the forest collapsed in front of him while blooming big to the sides.

    ¡°Where¡¯s a good spot to fight, Barba?¡±

    Barba pointed up to the right, saying, ¡°150 meters, unless the goblins have infested it. That¡¯s the sunning rock for the lizard, and the lizard is way up there on prominence rock, staying away.¡±

    Mark steered his Union to the right and collapsed the trees ahead of them, leading the way to the battleground. The forest fell like a house of explosive cards, and rose to the sides like multicolored thunder clouds, ready to burst. The noise was incredible. Crash! Crrchkchckchkck! It was the sound of a thousand small bombs going off. Mark was pretty sure he even saw mana crystals exploding out of the cracks of some trees.

    He definitely saw some glittering piles of stones in the debris field underfoot¡ª

    The edge of the forest fell away and revealed an expanse of black-coated flat rocks, forming a wide shelf on the southern-ish side of the kilometers-wide crater. It was actually a small cliff, and at the bottom of the cliff was a pool of black tar. It was a good spot to fight. The available area was about 130 meters across, in a rough circular pattern.

    But it was absolutely festooned with goblin vectors, hiding under the mound. Mark had felt those, though. Barba had not. But now that he was looking at the area, and Eliot¡¯s drones were far overhead, Mark watched as his visor updated with what he was seeing.

    The entire area was red with goblins, but it had not been physically changed at all.

    Barba¡¯s vector faltered a little, probably because her visor updated, too.

    The sunning rock was the center point of a whole tunnel system.

    This was perfect.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Mark said, ¡°The stage is set. We¡¯ve ruined most of their traps. Eliot can fire oils and goop down at the snipers at the far edge of the canyon over there, but most of the ridge is hidden from this angle. They can¡¯t snipe us. Right here is where we make our stand against the tide.¡± Mark temporarily removed his lower faceplate, temporarily exposing his mouth. And then he breathed in stillness, and exhaled a roar, ¡°Bite me!¡±

    The words rolled across the land like the roll of distant thunder, and Mark knew, based on the surprise and then viciousness of the goblin horde, that they heard him. Through the mind goblins, all of them heard him.

    And then Mark breathed in calm while he exhaled rage, horniness, and all of the other bad-for-battle emotions. The goblins got all of the downsides, and his team got all of the upsides, as Mark clicked his lower faceplate back into his mask.

    What had been a rather organized situation below the sunning rock turned into a violent upheaval and churning need to bite the meat at the gate. Goblins poured out from under the blackened cliff, right above the tar pool. They popped out of holes hidden in the sunning rock itself. They threw off dirt-covered bark, exposing tunnels everywhere, and they boiled out into the sun.

    They roared; crazed.

    Mark roared back; calm.

    His team was solid, and Isoko had purified the ground of debris, so they were on solid ground, too.

    Mark and his team were one side of a war and the goblins were the other. His Union shattered outward, sending a vein decay that practically popped some of the greenies, but some of the greenies were made of sterner stuff. And yet, even the stronger ones died, too. It just took a few more beats of Mark¡¯s heart.

    ¡­ And Mark knew he could have pushed harder, killing every single one that showed and the thousand below ground, but he wanted them up and out of the ground before he killed them. So he kept the killing at a reasonable level.

    The goblins screamed for blood.

    They died choking on their own.

    The goblin horde began mostly 150 meters away, and most of them never reached more than 130 meters away¡ª

    The mind goblins organized the battle at the behest of someone far away, outside of Mark¡¯s reach, but still within his ability to sense that unknown vector, because a bunch of other vectors suddenly aligned in that direction. Underground, the ripples of the mind goblins spread out, and some of the horde diverted around, through the ground. But it was slow going, vectors crawling along at a walking pace, like slow missiles passing underground, trailing hundreds of other vectors behind them. It was some burrowing goblins. Not the Stone Shaper goblin, not moving at those slow speeds, but the Stone Shaper was still under there, somewhere.

    Mark softly said, ¡°We got stronger ones coming up behind us. Burrowing goblins.¡±

    Barba, Aaron, and Samson all tensed¡ª

    ¡°Attend,¡± Isoko said, quietly, in their coms, but there was no way the goblins weren¡¯t listening in and formulating responses. She pointed here and there, saying, ¡°Slow moving. Probably not the Stone Shaper.¡±

    Samson said, ¡°I need a target so I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Incoming sky,¡± Mark said, almost as soon as he felt whatever it was up there.

    It was a quick vector, almost on them, 20 meters away by the time Mark fully said the word ¡®sky¡¯, and aimed right at Barba¡¯s head.

    Mark flicked blades of adamantium into the thing¡¯s path, like a net of wires.

    Impact. Splash. Gore.

    What had been a vector became a bunch of blood and body parts, splattered all across Barba, Isoko, and a little bit of Aaron. A dull grey light held in the air in front of Samson, covered in goblin mess only briefly, before slicking off onto the ground. Bright red feathers were among the mess.

    Isoko cleaned them up with some purity.

    Mark kept killing the raging horde.

    Barba watched the goblins die in front of her and the vanishing gore underfoot. She said, ¡°The bird dragonoid is gone. We should expect¡­¡± She was unsure. ¡°10 more bird goblins. Hard to know. The bird dragonoid was the smallest of them. Might be speedster levels of flight.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°I¡¯m tracking them now that I see them. They¡¯re roosting far behind you, at the entrance to the crater.¡±

    Mark broke off his attack to reach all the way back, to where the real threat laid in wait.

    Black lightning flowed, connecting to the bird goblins, downing them with a vengeance. They were tough, but Mark was fully using the horde all around him to kill those 9 up on the ridge. And then he went back to killing the ones up ahead, but all of them, goblins and humans alike, had seen him zap backward. After a brief moment of confusion amongst the mind goblins about their plans, their plans changed and the burrowing goblins stayed down underground.

    Eliot spoke up, ¡°Confirmation of bird goblins dead.¡±

    The knights tensed and something like quiet awe happened. Barba wasn¡¯t sure about how she felt. Maybe a little safe, or something similar.

    Eliot sounded more secure, too, as he said, ¡°I have the map available for estimated goblin counts and locations, now. Who wants it?¡±

    ¡°Busy,¡± Mark said.

    Barba said, ¡°Here,¡± as Aaron also said, ¡°Me.¡±

    Aaron added, ¡°I need the full map, too, so I can view it in lightform. I can¡¯t take updates from you when I¡¯m in that form.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Eliot said, ¡°Compiling the map and sending it to your visors and to your phone, Aaron.¡±

    Goblins still rushed in from twenty different tunnels, trying to drown Mark and them with power. Mark could only focus on the horde now, using the ones in back against the ones in front.

    While Aaron looked at the readouts, Mark and Isoko focused on the piles of corpses that were starting to block the holes, slowing the kills. Isoko and Mark were already in a Union, so words weren¡¯t necessary, but since they were working with others it was a good idea to speak words sometimes, when they could.

    Isoko asked, ¡°Purity purge?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said.

    Isoko might not have been able to help with the killing, but for this, Isoko could help directly, and she did. Mark and Isoko breathed and beat in unison, and threaded into the world with purity and impurity, touching upon the warm corpses and the blood and shit, erasing the dead goblin horde, making way for all the rest of them to come out into the open. It was like uncorking a blocked sewer.

    Greenskins poured out from the cleared holes in the ground, chittering, roaring, clawing forward.

    Mark killed them, black lightning dancing across their bodies, bursting them in small ways. They stumbled and flopped, slapping the stone with insensate bodies, and then they died, creating fresh piles of corpses at 70 meters out from Mark and his team.

    Mark paced himself to match the disgorging of the fodder, prepared to face whatever trick came next.

    Goblin fights always started off with fodder sent to die, to maybe get lucky, but those bird goblins had been a hidden strike, planned to attack in the middle of the fodder rush. The goblins underfoot, burrowing around and stopping, waiting, were another trick preparing to strike when Mark and his team were more vulnerable.

    And this was just the first canyon of goblins.

    As Aaron flickered and came back to normal time, and his vector transformed from something solid to something resigned and worried, Mark knew that this would not be a fast day at all. And sure enough, Aaron said as much.

    ¡°The dragonoid canyons have been depopulated,¡± Aaron said, ¡°It¡¯s all goblins now. Big buildup of goblins in the southern canyon that wasn¡¯t there an hour ago. Tens of thousands.¡±

    Mark and Isoko had realized some of that, so they both nodded. Barba and Samson¡¯s emotions did a similar transition to worried and resigned, just like Aaron had done.

    Mark hadn¡¯t known that the canyons were depopulated when he stepped foot inside the craters, but he knew it now. Except for small birds and the largest of the dragonoids, everything else had been turned to goblins. That¡¯s where all of these fresh goblins were coming from.

    But there weren¡¯t infinite goblins.

    Isoko spoke where Mark could not, saying, ¡°That simply means that the end to this day is 5 canyons down the road.¡±

    Mark nodded.

    The goblins screamed as they charged.

    And then they all died, frothing at the mouths, before they got within 60 meters.

    Barba took potshots at targets that stood up from the rest, or that made it past the rest, her bullets slamming into foreheads and chests, and dropping goblins before they got the chance to do anything at all. Samson and Aaron waited for the battle to be joined. Isoko helped Mark with Union. Tension filled the air as Mark kept up the killing.

 179

    Eliot sat back in his chair at the command center as he watched the battle from ten different views, mostly high in the sky above the canyons. Mark¡¯s path of destruction beyond the western entrance was like someone had taken an eraser to a well-used artist¡¯s palette. It was mostly a straight line in from the west, and then curved down to the lizard¡¯s rock, where all the goblins were gathering.

    Mark killed the enemies today as easily as he had back in Rome, which was surprising. The goblins here had much better developed Power Levels, even if most of them were young. Bodies in the 30s, at least. Union was a Natural Power, across the hex from Body, so it was strong against Body, but Body was still highly resistant toward breaking down, and Mark was attacking the body, directly. It was a Union trick, of course; a specific use of his Power that only Inquisitors or real Union-users were capable of doing. A use of his Power in a way that didn¡¯t cost him much, but which killed easily.

    It was a Freyalan secret.

    Eliot had made his choice to be of Hearthswell.

    Sometimes he questioned if he made the right choice, but looking at the battle in front of him, today was not one of those questioning days. Who the fuck wanted to be in the middle of that? Not Eliot! Eliot was here in the command center, as he should be.

    He was not using the full command center, though, for the CC was purpose-built for responding to major direct threats to the settlement. Most of the place was unoccupied, in case it needed to be occupied in a hurry. Eliot and Herb Sacredcut and some of the people on duty today, who weren¡¯t actively monitoring for kaiju, were helping to monitor the goblin situation, off to the side of the command center. Those other guys were coordinating with the other teams, for when the breakout happened, as it always did.

    Eliot glanced over at Herb. The man was sitting on a throne-like seat atop a mechanical spiderbot that was its own little command center. The bot had countless arms, some of them acting as legs, some of them plugged into the tech of the command center, and some of them holding up screens, while Herb touched arcane buttons on retractable keyboards.

    Herb said, ¡°It¡¯s a big goblin infestation.¡±

    He was still looking at his screens, tapping away, but Eliot got the idea that he was talking to him.

    Eliot said, ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t do strategy with them?¡± Herb asked, almost innocently. ¡°They¡¯re just letting Mark do it all, too. He¡¯s not using Samson properly, and Samson has never been good about standing up as tall as he should.¡±

    ¡­ Well yeah, Mark was a bit¡­ Mark.

    Eliot wasn¡¯t the best strategist, either. He could monitor any situation rather well, but actually attacking any particular situation was an exercise in working through choice paralysis. And also, well¡­

    Eliot found himself saying, ¡°It¡¯s easy to do strategy when I¡¯m out there¡­ But when I¡¯m not actually in the Union it¡¯s harder. I give them the information they need, and they know what to do with it. Mark is a good leader.¡±

    Herb was insinuating¡­ something, but Eliot wasn¡¯t quite sure what he was saying.

    Eliot ignored it.

    Eliot looked at the screens in front of him, at the wide map of red dots scattered throughout all of the canyons, and at the estimated number of goblins up in the corner of the screen. The goblin count had crossed 50,000 and it was going up from there as Herb¡¯s spiderbots and Eliot¡¯s drones spread out throughout the craters, getting proper numbers. That area in the southern-ish canyon was full of goblins. Most of them were down there, actually. But they were still everywhere. Mark¡¯s attack was like a gnat waking up a giant beast.

    Eliot said, ¡°He can handle this.¡±

    Herb grinned, still not looking at Eliot, as he said, ¡°He¡¯s certainly a good lure! He really knows how to make the goblins follow his lead.¡±

    ¡­ ¡®Follow his lead¡¯?

    Now that one had been on purpose.

    Another ¡®almost innocent¡¯ phrase.

    Mark was undoubtedly leading the goblins in a Union, but he wasn¡¯t mind controlling the mind controllers. Eliot might not have been an acolyte of Freyala like his parents had wanted, but he didn¡¯t think of Freyala as mind control. That was crazy.

    Eliot had a lot of concerns about mind control, though¡­

    Herb knew about those concerns, didn¡¯t he. Some of those concerns were right here for all to see, too.

    Eliot said, ¡°The mind goblins are orchestrating the whole thing. You can see them, here, here, and here,¡± Eliot said, as he tapped the screen in front of him. One of the bigger screens on the wall behind Eliot updated with the suspected mind goblin nodes. Such a designation was nearly impossible to scan for because you needed an actual scanning machine to find out a creature¡¯s Powers, but there were a lot of resources here at the settlement and Eliot could command a great many of them. Broad spectrum ground-penetrating scanners were available, and Herb was actually operating most of those, making them run through the forest on the backs of spiderbots, plant themselves, and take readouts. Eliot continued, ¡°The mind goblins are controlling the battle.¡±

    Herb shook his head, humming. ¡°No they¡¯re not. They¡¯re working for the leader. They¡¯re information relays only, which is why I think Mark is controlling them. He¡¯s using the mind goblins for his own ends, and they don¡¯t realize this yet. I¡¯ve seen Inquisitors of Freyala do something like this, but never at this level of power.¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡­ Eliot felt the weight of the Mind Protector on his neck, the charm that Holy Father High Priest Rafael Pardo had given him, to guard himself from all other influences. Mark could get around the charm, of course. Union was like that. Rafael didn¡¯t need to tell Eliot about that, but he had told him strong non-Mind powers could do that, and Mark was a glaring exception to the otherwise absolute protection that was guarding Eliot¡¯s mind, because Union wasn¡¯t mind control at all.

    It was Union.

    But still, Eliot felt a chill when he thought about mind monsters.

    Being inside the settlement helped. In this place, Eliot had a lot of tricks he could employ in a lot of different ways. If those 50,000 goblins had tried to breach the settlement walls instead of laying traps out there, then Eliot would have been the one standing for the cameras, instead of Mark.

    Eliot sighed a little.

    What was Herb¡¯s goal in talking like this? People in power always had goals when they spoke. If you were lucky, then you knew what those goals were before you interacted with those people. If you were unlucky, then they could walk circles around you, doing whatever they wanted without you knowing they had done anything at all.

    Was Herb just ¡®making conversation¡¯? Well yes. But was he setting up the pieces for later? Setting up the pieces for the future was a given; that¡¯s how this worked. Was he trying to understand Eliot, or was he trying to make Eliot understand something in the way Herb wanted that thing understood?

    ¡­ Eliot was too worried about mind monsters right now. He was imagining things that did not exist in reality, because Eliot liked Mark. Mark was a great guy! A bit strongly tied to the biggest world events happening right now, and he was sometimes, perhaps, moody, but Mark was highly reliable in every way that mattered and a lot that didn¡¯t. The guy had thrown Eliot a birthday breakfast this morning, just a few hours ago, and Eliot had never asked for that, but he had really been hoping that someone would do something¡­

    Fucking goblins got in the way of a really good day.

    And Mark and Isoko were fighting for their lives right now, though it certainly didn¡¯t look like it from the outside. It looked like Mark was effortlessly killing everything, but Eliot knew Mark was focused fully on the kill happening right in front of him.

    Eliot knew about the actual dangers of this world. Mark and Isoko were in mortal danger right now.

    It was just a matter of the wrong thing happening at the wrong time.

    Eliot focused on the screens in front of him and fell into the man-made systems that snaked through the buildings, the very concrete itself, the rebar and the water pipes, and everything else, all around him. He became one with the wires in the walls and the enchantments that he had laid down, thanks to Hearthswell. These goblins were nothing to him, here in the settlement. Out there they were dangerous, but in here they were easy pickings. But they weren¡¯t in here. They were out there. That is what was freaking Eliot out.

    He couldn¡¯t do shit to help Mark and Isoko. Nothing except to ping him when big threats started moving. Maybe when they got that flying castle up and running in a few years, then maybe he could go out beyond the walls again...

    Hmm.

    ¡­ Something was happening?

    What was happening.

    Something was happening in the battlefield, but Eliot couldn¡¯t see¡ª

    Oh.

    It clicked, and Eliot¡¯s breath stopped.

    Herb¡¯s field-capable Skill scanners recognized Shapers to the south of Mark¡¯s position, on the crater wall. Those Shapers were strong.

    That was the basis of the threat.

    Deedee was another person here at the Command Center. Her Skill was called Imposed Vulnerability, and she used it in an almost-prognosticatory sort of way, to know when stuff was going to break. Her warning systems were a general 3-second alarm that sounded before tech was damaged.

    Mark¡¯s team¡¯s stuff was about to break.

    Quentin had the knack Organized, but he prided himself on being a kaiju battle strategist, and he was certainly that. Since there were no kaiju out there, but since Quentin was on duty right now, Quentin was watching the battle and the three other teams, situated on the other natural exits to the dragonoid canyons. Those other teams were fine. But Mark¡¯s team was not. Quentin¡¯s eyes went wide as he watched the goblins surge from four different holes in the ground, all around Mark¡¯s team, and the power surge on the southern wall suddenly magnified.

    Eliot was seeing it, too.

    Quentin almost leapt out of his chair to say something¡ª

    ¡°Team!¡± Eliot rapidly spoke through the team¡¯s coms, ¡°Goblin ordnance from the south, beyond the treeline! RUN BACKWARD!¡±

 180

    Mark killed goblins and other people watched from the sky and from spiderbots that moved among the trees.

    Samson, Aaron, and Barba were in formation with Samson at the back, shields coating his shield, Aaron flickering away and coming back every so often, and Barba picking off targets here and there.

    Only Aaron had a good idea of what was coming for the team, because Aaron was flickering to light every now and then, and when he came back his awareness of the world around them was a lot larger. He spoke of what it actually looked like, down in the tunnels, where the goblins were being herded upward at Mark¡¯s lightning, and further down, where other goblins were getting ready in the tunnels to burrow upward, to attack at some unknown signal. So Aaron was a fantastic scout. His Skill, Lightspeed, seemed like the literal speed of causality, but he couldn¡¯t do anything while in that form except for run and walk around, and see the world around him. And there seemed to be a second delay of activating or deactivating the Skill, which left him vulnerable. Otherwise he was invulnerable while in Lightspeed. Also intangible. Otherwise he could have killed the goblins himself.

    Samson had something he could do when he actually managed to kill something himself, and it had something to do with shielding the group, but since Mark was the only one killing, Samson was just there, waiting to be useful. He was getting more and more irritated, but the goblins that got through Mark¡¯s lightning got picked off by Barba, so it was what it was.

    Isoko was keeping the team solid, and providing a nice sink for Mark¡¯s own Union.

    All them were tense, waiting for the next big thing to happen.

    And then something happened.

    It was another flicker of thought, passing through the world and the goblins, unlike the ones that had already been sent out and received before. It was a shift in directive; not just constant updates on the battle.

    And then things started happening, like someone had changed the music of the dance.

    Mark felt himself on the precipice of the flow.

    Something was missing, though.

    This wasn¡¯t it.

    This wasn¡¯t the main fight, even though it was about to be a big fight all of a sudden.

    Isoko swept a pointed finger across the ground in a wide arc, all behind Mark¡¯s forward killzone, saying, ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±

    The ground opened up ten meters from the team along the line Isoko had indicated.

    Aaron flickered, reappearing above every open hole just briefly, and then he was back in position, next to Samson and Barba. The tunnels exploded with a fulminating sound and brilliant red coloring that went straight up and also down deep into the tunnels. It wasn¡¯t basic ordnance, so it actually did something. The goblins poured out of the holes already injured¡ª

    And then Eliot blared in Mark¡¯s ears, ¡°Goblin ordnance from the south, beyond the treeline! RUN BACKWARD!¡±

    Ah.

    That was the trick. That was the missing piece.

    All of this was a distraction.

    Mark pulled out the big guns again, even as Isoko organized the rapid retreat backward. Black lightning crashed in every direction. Divide and conquer; that was the best way to do this. Separate the battle into half of the goblins above ground and half below. Use the ones below to kill the ones right close, then kill the other ones. Make it look like a normal kill, the kind that Mark had been doing, but now, push it harder.

    Goblin brains turned to bloody mush, black lightning passing through one and then the other, pulling, pushing, crushing and killing from the inside. They fell like the forest did; in three beats of Mark¡¯s heart, and countless sparks of Mark¡¯s own brain.

    The team and Mark were already running backward with Isoko leading the way. Mark floated with them, carried on small caltrops of adamantium¡ª

    A mountain passed in front of Mark.

    It was overwhelmingly tan and it was moving too fast. It was the same color as the crater walls, and it was about the size of a canyon wall when viewed from this close. It passed from right to left, south to north, and wiped away all of the vectors in front of Mark. It wiped away sound, as well. Perhaps it was too loud to hear. Dust and pebbles knocked into Mark and bounced away.

    Was there sound? Who knew!

    Mark could only feel it as the world vibrated in the passing of the great stone.

    Mark switched to healing and defense with everything he had, and Isoko was right there with him.

    The rock continued onward, crashing to the left, rolling across trees and everything else, breaking and snapping and crashing louder and louder, now that Mark could actually hear what was happening.

    Mark took stock of his team, but only briefly, because they had to move again, to kill whatever had thrown that fast.

    Samson was fully covered in grey light, and he might have pissed himself. Mark could relate. A flash of purity/impurity cleared away the flop sweats from everyone, and all of their hearts were racing as fast as they could possibly go.

    Barba was pale as fuck and Isoko might have been, but she was full platinum. Mark wasn¡¯t feeling much better than them, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and the healing was coming through quickly.

    Out with the bad!

    In with the good!

    Don¡¯t hyperventilate!

    Samson gasped out, ¡°Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Aaron said, interrupting Samson.

    Which was true enough, but that had been a mountain in front of them, and the noise was still everywhere.

    Mark focused on what he could.

    Aaron was a little bit out of breath, actually, which was weird to see, but that cleared away in a moment, now that he was here again. The guy briefly disconnected from Union whenever he went Lightspeed, but he easily slotted back into the Union when he came back¡­ He was looking worn out. Huh.

    ¡­ Oh.

    Aaron had probably had a lot of moments to contemplate what was happening when the mountain passed them by. Had he been watching the whole time, in flashes of moments, as death came for them? And he could do nothing?

    ¡­ Yes. That¡¯s exactly what had happened, and Mark was feeling that from him now.

    An existential horror lingered in Aaron¡¯s vector. It would take time to go away.

    Aaron collected himself as much as any of them could, after a mountain passed them by, and said, ¡°It¡¯s the Stone Shaper goblin. He¡¯s been through the Thresher. He¡¯s up on the southern crater wall with a bunch of his coven. Might be a witch or a shaman-type. Probably shaman type. We need to kill him. He cannot be allowed to do that again.¡±

    Isoko asked, ¡°So he can¡¯t do that if we get to him fast enough? I need to be clear here. Are we walking into a kaiju stomp, or a fight we can fight?¡±

    The Shaper goblin¡¯s first volley was still crashing across the floor of the canyon, loud as fuck and drowning out almost everything else.

    Eliot¡¯s voice cut through some of the noise. ¡°It took him five minutes to set that up and he was veiled by something the entire time he was casting that magic. I didn¡¯t see him until he dropped the veil. An AI-assisted investigation of the casual views we have had of the area shows that he was there the whole time, cooperative casting while Mark was killing fodder.¡±

    ¡°This is too much talking,¡± Aaron said, looking up at the sky. ¡°We need to move fast to get them¡ª¡± And then he flickered and came back, saying, ¡°Dammit. They¡¯re moving on.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°They¡¯re zooming along inside the southern wall now, toward the east. They¡¯re headed toward a big buildup of goblins¡ª FUCK! They knocked out my drones again¡­ Okay. Other ones working now.¡± Eliot stressed, ¡°They¡¯re really good at sniping, so make sure your helmets are solid. We¡¯re pretty sure that there are at least 4 Marksman goblins, and they¡¯re protecting the main goblins of the tribe. There are multiple Stone Shaper goblins, too, but the main one is the main threat. He¡¯s the one that led the coven that threw that rock. He was the orange-striped one. Now his most defining feature is half his body is burned¡­ Ah, fuck. He¡¯s getting healed by one of his minions.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Aaron muttered, ¡°The bombs didn¡¯t work as well as I wanted them to work.¡±

    He had already seen the Shaper goblins, then, and he tried to hurt them.

    Isoko said, ¡°We should chase and kill.¡±

    Barba looked at Aaron and her voice was solid, ¡°Aaron.¡±

    It was a command and a question.

    ¡°If it was just him then I could do it,¡± Aaron said, ¡°But entering and exiting Lightspeed doesn¡¯t happen at light speed.¡±

    Barba nodded. ¡°How well guarded?¡±

    ¡°Marksman goblin with a bow that might have been trashed by the bombs, some sort of plant-user healer that I couldn¡¯t chip at all and which was probably a Witch-type, and 7 Stonemovers. Not Shapers. Just Movers. I think I might have gotten some of them. Going that far and coming back takes a bit, though, so¡­ I need a moment.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t out of breath, but he was astrally weak. Mark was healing him up to full strength, though.

    Samson tapped at the side of his helmet and asked whoever might answer, ¡°Are there still goblins in this area?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mark answered, much to the relief of Samson and Barba. Isoko already knew that they were suddenly in the clear and Aaron had probably had a look around so he wasn¡¯t already as relieved as he was going to get, under the circumstances. Mark continued, ¡°The Lightself goblins aren¡¯t here anymore, either.¡± Mark waved a hand, cutting off all further conversation as he decided, ¡°We¡¯re chasing down the Stone Shaper while he is running back to base, and then we¡¯re killing the base. All of the mind goblins in the area are focused on the southern base. They¡¯re gathering there and expecting us to follow, because that is what we¡¯re here for anyway.¡±

    Samson spoke up, ¡°I need to hit and kill something to function properly. Let some through.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Mark said, floating into the air a little, and making stirrup-shaped handholds with his free weaponry. He floated the handholds to Isoko, Barba, and Samson, saying, ¡°Get on. I¡¯ll throw you at some goblins when we get close, Samson. Aaron, you can walk?¡±

    ¡°I can.¡± Aaron pointed beyond the new waterway that the goblin¡¯s mountain had carved. The ground was still falling inward along that path, crumbling with black ichor and rolling stones. ¡°They¡¯re moving fast, but we can catch them.¡±

    Isoko readily grabbed Mark¡¯s adamantium handle, with Barba and Samson close behind, the two of them clicking something on their belts as they did so. They were not nearly as heavy as Isoko, which was not that surprising, but they were lighter than normal people, too. Mark raised an eyebrow at the obvious hoverbelts. Those didn¡¯t look like combat hoverbelts. They didn¡¯t look like anything at all, actually.

    Barba said, ¡°Our hoverbelts are rated for transport, not combat. Never trust combat-rated hoverbelts.¡±

    Mark found himself chuckling a little bit at that declaration. And then he focused. He tapped on his helmet, saying, ¡°Eliot. Map. ETA till we lose them in the camp.¡±

    A readout flickered across his vision and Mark saw a wireframe model beyond the forest. It was moving east fast, but it was still on the crater wall.

    Eliot said, ¡°You have 2:30 before they hit the southern base and probably vanish inside. I¡¯ll talk about assaulting the new goblin base after you¡¯re done with the Shapers. We¡¯re making special bombs for it now.¡±

    Mark started moving, lurching with the weight he was suddenly pulling, but he was filled with adamant strength, and he moved the extra thousand kilos of weight just fine. Most of it was Isoko, in Full Platinum, but Mark was not about to ask her to drop her defenses.

    None of this fight was totally ideal. For one, Mark would have liked to know how to fight with Samson and Aaron better. But this was better than waiting another few days to fight. How much of a civilization were the goblins building here? If they had waited a few days¡­

    Well.

    No.

    Aurora would have killed all of the goblins if Mark and them had chosen not to fight. It was probably too dangerous for Mark and his team to be here right now.

    But Mark was going to help Barba get her revenge. He was going to prove himself a leader. He was going to prove that he had what it takes to hang with the big powers.

    And he was going to kill all monsters.

    Mark raced forward, directly at the mountain-sized (maybe just mountain-top sized) furrow in the forest floor. He reached the edge and lined up his caltrops and his extra weight, and then he hunkered down and went sailing. Flying, but not quite. More like a controlled fall.

    Mark landed on the opposite side of the new gorge in the canyon floor, stabbing adamantium into the stone for support, holding on as he raced up the new furrow. Boulders fell down but Mark remained on top, racing forward.

    ¡°We won¡¯t make it in time,¡± Barba said. ¡°Aaron. Path through the woods.¡±

    Aaron was up on the side of the furrow but now he flickered and reappeared ahead, standing in a half of a clearing. The other half of the clearing was still falling down into the new furrow in the flooring. Aaron gestured his way.

    So that was the way to go. Noted.

    Mark briefly glanced upward, at the crater wall. It had been intact. Trees had been growing there. But now there was a giant hole in the upper half. One Stone Shaper and an assortment of help did that. Mark swung up to Aaron¡¯s spot, and Aaron reappeared further in the forest. Mark felt him with Unionsense faster than he visually recognized Aaron''s new position.

    Mark allowed himself a single moment of distraction, to look back at the destruction of the thrown mountain top. It was worse than he had imagined. The mountain had driven deep and scattered far, crashing across everything. A huge plume of dust was still rising into the sky over there, to be carried on the winds. It was coming this way. Soon, the sun would vanish behind that cloud.

    And then Mark was in the glowing forest, following Aaron, as the guy blinked and reappeared in clear areas almost straight ahead. Mark held Samson, Barba, and Isoko high off of the ground, and skimmed across the land, over trees and across large black pools of ichor.

    Barba¡¯s vector and voice were torn as she saw the forest and said, ¡°The goblins killed everything! There should be¡­ be life! Monkeys and sloths! But they¡¯re all gone.¡±

    ¡°There are birds and bugs,¡± Isoko said.

    Mark got them focused on the mission, ¡°I¡¯m on the Shaper. I¡¯ll try to take down the rest, but I probably won¡¯t be able to do that. Should be able to interrupt any attempts at them organizing big magic, though.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Barba said, trying to ignore the lack of life in the forest.

    Aaron flickered ahead, again and again, and Mark watched as the little distance indicators on his lens counted down from 1400 meters and then to 1250. And then Aaron flickered into the light, beyond the treeline, pointing up and forward, and Mark was right there with him, looking up at the crater wall, at the traveling ridge of the wall, where the goblins were running in the open. They were on the top of the ridge, which was not exactly a ridge. It looked too straight to be a ridge.

    Except for a loose treeline and a few ichor falls, it was open crater wall between here and there

    Barba glared, saying, ¡°Harass them, Aaron.¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Aaron said. And then he flickered and vanished.

    Samson said, ¡°I need to kill something, and then this will be a lot safer!¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Mark said, as he rushed them forward, up the crater wall.

    Caltrop dug into the almost-vertical surface, and Mark ascended with his team.

    Thirty seconds later, Mark and his team were on a ridge that was not a ridge anymore. At least not on this side. The goblins were transforming it into a city wall. It was still rough hewn, but the goblins had been working fast on fortifications. They were planning on making the dragonoid canyons their home.

    Fuck that.

    Mark raced forward across the flattop ridge, the ¡®goblin city wall¡¯, and up ahead lights blossomed, followed by concussion blasts rippling the air. Bombs, from Aaron. And then Aaron reappeared next to Mark, slipping back into his Union. He was missing the right side of his helmet, his hair and face exposed and bloody, but he was alive. He was beat up in a lot of different ways.

    ¡°Stay back here!¡± Barba said. ¡°Let me off up ahead, Mark.¡±

    ¡°Marksman dead,¡± Aaron called out, his voice trailing backward as Mark left him behind.

 181

    The battlefield was easy to interpret.

    Seven goblins, one in the middle with orange skin and scars over half of his body, facing Mark and company in a spread-out pattern. Scorch marks covered the ground, the evidence of Aaron¡¯s bombing easily seen, but the goblins were transforming the ground into a solid dais right underneath, so the marks were vanishing. They weren¡¯t running. They were preparing. Six goblins prayed on their knees toward the Stone Shaper in the middle and mana crystallized out of the air, forming lines and spirals on the ground around the cohort, like sugar settling at the bottom of a swirled cup of cold tea.

    Scattered weapons lay beside the goblins and the goblins did not reach for those weapons, but they glanced at Mark with side eyes. They continued to pray to the one in the middle.

    They were still 300 meters away.

    Mark pulled his Kinesis in all the way, stepping down onto the stone ridge, reaching far with Union, all the way to the casting goblins. His team let go of his handles as they went back to him. They saw what he was doing.

    Touching these goblins with Union was the weirdest feeling to a Union that Mark had ever felt before. It was like trying to touch an egg. Or touching the surface of a freshly frozen pond. Something was forming there, among the goblins, and Mark¡¯s touch glanced off of that shielding, only briefly, and only because he hadn¡¯t expected to feel something in the way.

    And then Mark focused and his Union shattered that nascent shield and drew it out of the goblins in a way Mark did not understand, and did not need to understand right now. What he felt was 3 goblins die to a Union of vein decay, and the others not die at all. They faltered.

    Mark rushed forward with Isoko running beside him and Samson carried on a handle.

    One goblin with vines entwined on his neck and chest reached out, toward his remaining people, with his other hand he reached for the corpses around them. Plants sprung out of everyone, and then died suddenly, and the goblins were revitalized. Mark tried to decay them again, but it wasn¡¯t working. They were enchanted to heal faster than he could kill them right now.

    The goblins rallied.

    Four goblins, with blast wounds already healing, versus Mark, Isoko, Barba, and Samson, on a 10-meter-wide half-natural ridge that the goblins could knock down whenever they wanted. Not ideal. No fight was ever ideal.

    Behind them, Mark felt as Barba lined up a shot, the curve of the crater wall just enough to pass Mark, Isoko, and Samson by.

    Contact happened fast.

    A bullet knocked the Stone Shaper shaman on the head, cracking his neck as his upper body went backward, and then he stood firm and glared back at Barba, lifting a hand. A rock lifted off of the ground, turned to ten different needles, and shot forward, aimed at Mark, Isoko, Samson, and mostly Barba in the back line.

    Samson lifted a hand and a shield intercepted all of the stone, but the force behind the attack was great and Mark felt the pressure as Samson was knocked backward, because Samson was still holding onto Mark¡¯s transport.

    Isoko said, ¡°I¡¯ll lock it down.¡±

    She meant she would Tactile Telekinesis the ground when she got closer, but there was no time for that many words.

    Mark rushed forward, 50 meters away, then 20, and finally at the goblins. Mark gave Samson a running start and Samson swung forward, releasing his handhold and bringing his mace to bear directly on a goblin who was picking up a stick. Other goblins were pulling stones out of the ground like they were making clubs and spears.

    And then Isoko landed and pulsed the ground with platinum, like a lightning flash on a screen, except the screen was the entire ridge for the nearest 10 meters. The stone weaponry broke off in the ground, the creation of weapons interrupted. Isoko faltered even as she ran forward, faster than even Mark flew, aiming right for the healer goblin with the dead vines around his neck.

    Mark stopped trying to kill the goblins directly as he focused on adamant and weakness, and on the strength of his team¡­ Something was still off, though. Nothing was off with the enemy. It was with his team. Something was off and he didn¡¯t understand it yet.

    He pushed through.

    The battle was joined.

    Stone implements rose into the control of three of the remaining goblins. The worrying one was the Shaman, with his much bigger stone clubs. The vine healer had his vines.

    Samson cracked his mace down onto one smaller stone goblin and the goblin tried to fight back, but Samson¡¯s mace was insistent and the goblin¡¯s mace struck grey shielding.

    The Shaman aimed for Samson with his weapon, turning it into a handful of stone spears and slamming it into the man, but Mark was there, watching the vector, intercepting the spikes with a thin layer of adamantium.

    And then Samson struck his target a second time, and instantly something strange happened. Mark, Isoko, and Samson, but not Barba because she was probably too far away, all gained a grey sheen to their bodies.

    Mark didn¡¯t have time to contemplate that, but he was pretty sure Samson was able to make body shields out of damage, somehow. He was dealing with two Stone Shaper goblins, but only one of them was the Shaman.

    To the side, Isoko slammed her rapier across the head of the vine goblin, but she met solid flesh instead, and her blade gonged, like she had slapped something too hard to cut. The goblin sneered and tried to bite at Isoko¡¯s legs, but Isoko moved with speed and precision, transitioning her grip backward on her blade to then slam her blade down into the goblin''s head. It was like piercing stone, but Isoko could do that occasionally. Sparks flew and she buried her blade up to her hilt, the edge going down through the goblin¡¯s face and through its chest.

    The goblin did not die instantly. It would die soon enough.

    Mark did not try to kill it; he was already defending stray stone shots and fortifying with Union. And then Mark turned his adamantium shield into a long, curved blade, as the Shaman coiled his hands together and summoned some sort of ethereal stone, all glowing and solid, but Mark slashed through the ethereal thing, not knowing what it was. The magic vanished.

    The other Stone Shaper goblin, not the Shaman, lifted himself into the air and then swung down with his mace, but Mark simply turned his adamantium into a poker and rapidly stabbed into the goblin''s head, killing it, and then ripping his adamantium through the dying thing, turning it to bloody chunks on the ground. Dead in under half a second.

    Samson slammed his mace down onto the one he had hit again and the shields around Mark, Isoko, and Samson turned stronger.

    The Shaman focused on the ground, and the ground turned to mud.

    Isoko countered with a platinum flash, but it was weaker this time because she had to contend with the power the goblin had put into the stone ridge. Platinum warred with orange, and orange won. Stone was the Shaman¡¯s element, after all. Isoko¡¯s Power was not nearly as deep.

    The Shaman roared, ¡°You¡¯re mine, now!¡±

    And then all of the mana crystals that were on the ground vibrated into the air, ripping at everyone in the area like razor blades. The attack blocked out the sky, going far, and the Shaman passed into the fog of stone mana blades. It laughed. It tried to hide. Mark and Isoko knew where it was anyway.

    Samson slammed down into the downed goblin again, still not killing it, but doing something valuable, because the Shaman¡¯s blades stopped cutting. They felt like grains of sand instead of knives. Mark¡¯s armor wasn¡¯t broken at all, though, so he had no fucking clue how the goblin was cutting him with blades that didn¡¯t actually get through his armor at all.

    A thousand different blades of stone scraped across Mark, Samson, and Isoko, ripping at their flesh as much as the Shaman could, and finding only shielding. The air was filled with more than just his astral body, but there was a lot of that, too. Mark felt his Union almost break, but only because he wasn¡¯t expecting all of the mana in the air to be so disruptive.

    And then the scattered metal blades of the dead goblins lifted into the air, held on ephemeral ideas of stone goblins, holding them strongly. Ghosts in the stone. Something pulled at Mark¡¯s body, at the metal in his visor, and probably at Quark in his backpack, because his visor died. The lens started to scrape with stone carvings, blocking his vision.

    The goblin laughed straight ahead, but his vector was to the side, floating off of the edge of the stone ridge. He was trying to cut at their backside.

    Mark rushed forward and swiped a blade of adamantium at the Shaman and the Shaman sneered, welcoming the weapon, wrapping it with ghostly-goblin hands even as the blade came for his neck. The Shaman thought he could control the metal coming for him as he controlled the metal all around, but that wasn¡¯t happening. In the brief second that the blade was descending to the Shaman¡¯s neck, the Shaman tried to wrap it with more and more cutting stone and mana crystals.

    But Mark swept his blade through the Shaman, and the goblin still didn¡¯t understand he was dead even as he died midair.

    Mark swiped the blade through the orange goblin a few more times, turning the Shaman to bloody chunks.

    The mana dust storm died slowly.

    The main threat was probably gone, but Samson was still slamming his target, restoring the shielding around Mark, Isoko, and himself. Grey sheens turned to something clear and almost invisible. Samson still couldn¡¯t kill the goblin, though he had certainly locked down the goblin.

    Mark focused on the goblin, pulling out all of the goblin¡¯s strength and giving the goblin all of the group¡¯s weaknesses in turn.

    Samson slammed the goblin twice more and the goblin¡¯s head was proving harder than either Samson¡¯s mace or the stone underfoot, but the goblin was knocked out, so it wasn¡¯t fighting back¡ª

    The mace went through the goblin¡¯s face and smashed its brains across the melty stone ridge.

    The fight began and ended within 20 seconds, but the fight hadn¡¯t even really started.

    It had taken Samson a minute of whaling on the insensate goblin to kill it.

    Barba and Aaron were walking this way even before Samson had killed his target.

    They looked in a bad way.

    Barba was bleeding and Aaron looked much worse than Barba, but Mark was already healing them and so was Isoko. How far had the Shaman¡¯s dust storm reached? It must have gone pretty far. Barba¡¯s belt was sparking; broken. Her rifle was bent. Aaron¡¯s backpack was in tatters, and half of his metal armor was twisted. The other half was gone. Had he removed it? He had removed it. Samson looked okay, though. He had managed to shield his stuff.

    Samson needed a better weapon and Skill if he was going to do nothing but whale on a target as a distraction, though. Did Mark really have to throw him some trash to kill? The fuck was up with that? Anyway. Quark might have been trashed along with all of Mark¡¯s lenses, but Isoko and Samson had done just fine. As long as the enemy wasn¡¯t focused on them, they could provide support... But Barba and Aaron had been too far away to receive that shielding.

    Eliot was talking.

    ¡°Sorry, repeat that?¡± Mark asked, his coms not working right.

    Eliot garbled static in Mark¡¯s ears.

    Isoko filled Mark in, saying, ¡°He¡¯s sending more visors and stuff. Another body for Quark. Near as he can tell there are three more main fights between strong forces, and a whole lot of trash down south. The Lightself goblins, who seem to be in charge, and the trihorn one that Barba saw, and some beamer goblins, and the main camp...¡± Isoko paused. She said, ¡°Decision time, guys, and you know what I mean. That was fucking dangerous, and¡ª¡± She stopped herself there.

    Aaron looked happy to be told that the fight was too much. Barba looked worried, but solid. Samson smiled a little under his helmet, feeling good about what had happened. Mark wasn¡¯t sure why he should be feeling good. That had gone¡­ decently well. But¡­ Mark wasn¡¯t sure.

    Isoko told them, ¡°All your stuff was trashed.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Yes, that.

    She didn¡¯t need to say the rest of what needed to be said, because all of them knew what she meant.

    And yet Barba¡¯s face was dark with realization.

    With hate.

    ¡°My desire for revenge remains unblemished,¡± Barba said, as she held her bent rifle and focused, her vector pushing inside the metal. ¡°And a Hunter is never without a weapon.¡±

    Her Skill flashed within the metal and the rifle straightened, flexing, groaning, and then snapping suddenly back into its old self. Magic sparked within the thing, breaking and remaking, and when Barba¡¯s eyes stopped fluttering, when her vector was back in her own body, the rifle looked even better than before.

    ¡°Neat trick,¡± Mark said, surprised. ¡°Didn¡¯t know Hunters could do that?¡±

    ¡°Sacredcuts are good with weapons,¡± Barba said, as if that explained anything at all.

    Aaron said, ¡°I can still scout, but I¡¯m out of bombs.¡±

    Samson said, ¡°I need to actually fight and I¡¯ll be doing more.¡±

    Mark felt there was something he was missing because Samson had not been able to kill a single goblin very well. And the guy had been practically crushing it as he whaled on it. And that was too much.

    Mark straight-up asked, ¡°What¡¯s with the slow kill on that one?¡±

    Isoko was right there with Mark, though she said nothing. She just stared. She wanted an answer, too.

    Samson paused. He looked from Mark to Isoko then back to Mark. ¡°You think¡ª¡± He shook his head, saying, ¡°I needed to get as much shield as possible out of that one. I can kill a goblin.¡±

    Barba nodded, like she knew what Samson had been doing all along. She probably had.

    ¡°¡­ Ah,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Well okay then,¡± Isoko said. ¡°That makes me feel better.¡±

    Samson¡¯s face flushed a little under his helmet, but he said nothing about how he felt.

    For Mark, this was fine. You could never find out everything about a guy¡¯s Skills from just his words; you had to be there and see them in action, first. Now Mark knew how he needed to fight around Samson.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill all of the ones in the next fight. Some will get through.¡± Mark reformed the stirrups for them to grab onto, saying, ¡°I didn¡¯t see any bows in this group, so that must have been you, Aaron.¡±

    Aaron grinned. ¡°I took out their bows, yes, and the Marksman, too. Stuffed a grenade in his mouth.¡± He lightly kicked at one of the desiccated bodies that the vine goblin had utilized. ¡°I need more bombs, though.¡± He asked Isoko, ¡°Is Herb on the coms?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and resupply is coming in now,¡± Isoko said, nodding toward the south. ¡°This is stuff Eliot had prepared for normal replacements, and there are standard grenades in there. He doesn¡¯t have armor or artifacts. Hoverbelt resupply is coming in along with a bunch of other stuff from the Sacredcuts for use against the goblin camp down south.¡±

    Drones came in even as Isoko was speaking, each of them labeled for individual persons. The drones dropped the stuff right there on the Shaman¡¯s half-formed magical dais atop the crater ridge.

    They got to putting on the replacements.

    Mark would have loved to stand there and stare at the sights of the grasslands on the left and the magical forest on the right, but there were goblins to kill. He dumped his broken phone out of a thin adamantium shell and replaced it with a new one that was already glowing silver, Quark flickering before going dormant again. Mark slipped the new phone into his backpack and took out his broken coms from his helmet to replace those as well.

    ¡°¡ª from the craters¡ª Mark¡¯s here now.¡± Eliot was already talking about something, but he restarted, ¡°So the goblins are coming in from the upper two craters. We¡¯ve counted 45,000 goblins, with 3 groups of around 10 each that are worth a damn, with high Power Levels. Everything else is either fodder or not quite fodder. PL¡¯s in the 25s, like the fodder Mark was killing.

    ¡°There¡¯s another Shaman like the Stone Shaman riding the mole dragonoid. We think he¡¯s an animal controller, but without any animals to control but the mole dragonoid.

    ¡°The Lightself goblins are now firmly identified as the leaders, with the tri-horn being the main leader of the camp. He hasn¡¯t been active since Barba unearthed him with that welcoming shot at the trapped entrance you guys came through, but he has been seen at the other battlefields. The paladins there uncovered him and he vanished. He was testing them, more than he was trying to fight.

    ¡°And then there¡¯s a splinter group of high-energy beam goblins. We think those ones are trying to escape and spread, and way earlier than they normally should. That¡¯s probably the leader¡¯s influence. Team Tartu is dealing with the beamers as they try to escape from the northeastern crater.

    ¡°Teams Lee and Franston are at the other exits, and they are twiddling their thumbs for most of the action is on you guys. All of the teams are backed up by paladins so they¡¯re doing a lot better than expected.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t know Franston, and Lee was a good guy, even if he had been the one who wanted to hunt goblins for sport and to loot their primitive societies. Mark still didn¡¯t know how he felt about that. It seemed wrong. Lee was on the Kaiju Squad, though, and he was a big flier, so he and his team could probably do that; just kill goblins while leaving some alive, take all their stuff, and then come and do it again next week.

    Still seemed dirty, though, even if the goblins had been setting up here in the canyons to make a civilization with the ultimate goals of picking off the humans for use as their own breeding slaves...

    ¡­ Well¡­ thinking about it that way...

    Mark was perfectly fine with doing horrible things to horrible goblins. Kill them all and take their stuff. It wasn¡¯t like you could ever actually rid the world of goblins anyway. Might as well leave a goblin nest to continually regrow if you knew it wouldn¡¯t be an actual problem.

    This particular goblin nest was an actual problem though, so it had to go.

    Mark said, ¡°Tell Lee I¡¯m claiming finder¡¯s fees on everything the goblins have taken to their main camp, and that we¡¯re headed to the main camp now.¡± Mark didn¡¯t wait for confirmation as he looked to his temporary team, and said, ¡°Now that I know what you can do, we¡¯re doing this a bit stronger. Aaron, don¡¯t get hit and plant your new bombs wherever. Barba, pick valuable targets with Isoko. Isoko on security. Samson on keeping shields tight by killing fodder. I¡¯m killing everything I possibly can, and then we¡¯re cleaning up what I can¡¯t kill outright.¡±

    Aaron strapped new grenades to his chest and waist. Samson nodded. Barba was focused, and Isoko was ready.

    Mark held out his stirrups for the team to grab on as he slotted new lenses into his helmet. He was ready in a moment and so was everyone else, so he said to Eliot, ¡°Lay out the path to the main base. We¡¯re going in.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± Eliot said, ¡°And now that we¡¯re here, you should know that they¡¯re forming killzones inside of the city they built. They hope to draw you inside, but we have special bombs for that. As for the rest¡­¡±

    Eliot spoke of the city ahead and what to expect as Mark and them went forward.

    The crater wall angled down to a second crater wall, both of them more like malformed city walls than natural stone formations. Mark got to the junction between canyons, and saw the fight ahead of him long before he got there.

    Down below the next canyon wall was a land of bulbous buildings, separated from the walls and looking like orange soap bubbles piled onto each other. Holes in the bubbles led to interior spaces while flat surfaces layered around the outside, like balconies and walkways and other sorts of exterior spaces. It was a whole little city, of a whole lot of goblins. They were moving in organized fashions, of which Mark could only guess, and which looked like a city setting up for a siege. There were no civilians in goblin culture, though. All of them were warrior males. Most of them were young, maybe born in the last few hours, but amongst those young ones were week-old goblins, or older, organizing all the rest.

    And there were goblins on the wall, between here and there.

    The goblins pinged them with crossbow bolts, but some of their crossbows snapped. They were not well made, and these were all basically children. They were still children that would kill if they got the chance. Mark felt their hunger from here.

    Mark Union¡¯d them all to death and continued down the way, down the road leading to the city. To the enemy.

    Without even trying, Mark entered into the flow.

    And then Mark was among them, and Samson fell into a lot of them, smashing and crunching, and grey shields snapped around all of the team of humans, while Barba lifted her rifle and took aim at a distant target that Mark didn¡¯t even recognize as a threat. But then Mark watched as Barba¡¯s target¡¯s head exploded, and the goblin had been at the top of a tower, acting as a mind goblin organizer, but now it was dead and the goblins¡¯ morale crashed with it. Some of the youngest ones started running around, acting like horny idiots, rushing to get to Mark and the team, to bite and transform if they could. And then Aaron planted bombs, or at least that¡¯s what Mark assumed happened, because the guy vanished and parts of the goblin city exploded, and smoke began to billow up from the deeper parts of the stone bubble city. And then Aaron came back, and said something about needing more bombs.

    They would not be entering those tunnels leading down. They would not be entering those traps.

    They would be blowing up the entire place, instead, and smoking out the enemy into the open.

    Mark got to killing with his team right beside him the whole time.

    They moved as a unit with Barba slamming off shots every other second, taking down every strong target that tried to mount a defense that was stupid enough to lift into view. More elemental bombs went off inside of the city, and parts of the stone itself began to melt downward, and goblins poured out into the world, only for Mark to slam them with black lightning, killing them by the hundreds, but there were 45,000 of them to go.

    It was a slaughter.

    Every so often Barba took potshots at flickering lights she saw in the distance, far outside of Mark¡¯s current focus of all the goblins around him. Those lights were the Lightself goblins. The blue tri-horn.

    He never appeared close enough or solid enough for Mark to hit him, though. He remained distant, and the very second Mark was able to touch him with Union he turned back into light, and Mark had to focus on the goblins in front of him.

    Eventually, after shooting at the invisible enemy and breaking the tri-horn¡¯s cover the tenth time, Barba broke the flow a little, asking, ¡°That¡¯s you helping me find the blue fucker, isn¡¯t it.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said.

    Barba nodded and slammed off three shots into the heads of three different red goblins who were coming out of the broken ground, only 10 meters away from her. Those red ones had a habit of exploding if they got too close to their targets. The explosions didn¡¯t seem to harm the goblins, but they certainly did a number on the shields surrounding the team. As Barba¡¯s bullets entered the red goblin, the red goblins exploded into red giblets, and then Barba focused on her rifle again, refilling her ammo with her Skill as a Hunter.

    She preferred arrows, for they were stronger, but when there were hundreds of soft targets it was cheaper to conjure tiny bullets rather than large arrows.

    Some goblin crossbow bolts harmlessly struck Mark¡¯s chest and head, impacting from an over-the-top angle. Some goblins were firing from far away, from high up and out of sight, and hitting Mark even when he was moving back and forth and cutting open holes in the ground to get at the goblins inside. The impacts left small grey cracks in his shield. Mark ignored the ¡®threat¡¯ as he opened the wall in front of him and carved through five goblins that were huddled under a protective shield. Their shield was not nearly as good as Mark¡¯s.

    And then Samson crushed a goblin underfoot, and Mark¡¯s shield healed to full strength.

    Barba picked off more archers with more pops of her rifle.

    Isoko sliced through a goblin made of stone that didn¡¯t die right away, and then she sliced it up some more, her platinum rapier flashing as she moved. The goblin died, eventually.

    More multicolored bombs ignited in the distance, and Mark felt the goblins in the area rush to get away from the brand new fires.

    Aaron reappeared and took a small break next to Barba, next to the resupply of bombs that had just come down on drone drop. He happily announced, ¡°Tunnels are now fully on stonefire! That shit ain¡¯t gonna stop burning for a long time!¡±

    Mark nodded.

    There was nowhere for the goblins to go except through them.

    And then Mark resumed the flow, and the team continued the slaughter until not a single goblin was left.

 182

    The goblin trap city burned in a multicolor conflagration under the afternoon sun, the rainbow flames resembling the prismatic sky.

    It was over, for now.

    The last goblin had died and the valley was empty of vectors except for the vectors of the team, which were lively but slowing down. In the surrounding land lay the hibernating vectors of the plants that the goblins had clearcut to make way for their home. One final sweep went out through the immediate area, with Mark and Isoko working in tandem with Barba, checking the ridges with her gun, with Aaron blinked in and out of the Union as he looked for anything else nearby. There were no more targets. Samson leaned against his mace, simply watching the flames.

    The lizard dragonoid remained atop his stone prominence, a valley away, overlooking everything with a distant ambivalence. His vector had pinged on the fires and on the slaughter, but he was not interested in fighting¡­

    And Mark fell out of the flow, just like that.

    It was a tension snapped.

    The world relaxed, with Barba¡¯s arms shaking a little as she lowered her rifle, Samson groaning out a nonsensical sound, and Aaron sighing. Isoko¡¯s Full Platinum fell away and then came back, looking softer than before. She was tired, too. Not astrally. Mentally.

    They were all a little mentally sore.

    Mark settled onto the actual ground, his feet touching stone in a relaxed sort of way for the first time in a few hours. He had needed to physically move fast sometimes there, using his actual limbs to move, but for the most part he had been flying around and slaughtering all of the goblins that proved to be too much for conventional weaponry or an offensive Union, or for others to fight on their own.

    Breathe in the good, breathe out the bad.

    Mark relaxed just a little. And then he got his head back in the game, back to the moment. Mark tapped his helmet. ¡°Status on the others.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Ah, good. You get really focused on the battle, you know¡ª Anyway! Team Tartu took down the beaming goblins about 30 minutes ago. Lee and Franston cleaned up the dragonoid-riding Shaman at about the same time, when the dragonoid shaman tried to run. That Shaman had turned the dragonoid into a birthing pod and he tried to hasten the birthing to overwhelm the teams with Stonemover goblins, but Lee¡¯s team killed the shaman while Franston¡¯s team paladin was able to clear that infection up and send the dragonoid back into the canyons. The only goblins missing are the Lightself goblins, which includes the 3-horn leader. Barba took shots at him while you killed the city, but the guy never actually committed to a fight at all.¡±

    It was good to know about the other teams.

    Mark asked, ¡°So we¡¯re down to 10 Lightself goblins? Something like that?¡±

    ¡°Something like that, and I already know what you¡¯re going to ask and no, we don¡¯t know where they went. Want me to send a hovercraft? You can ride it around and try to sense them?¡± Eliot added, ¡°That¡¯s what Lee is going to do, and Lee is itching for you to say ¡®no¡¯. He¡¯s a strong flier, too, so¡­ he and his team can find the Lightself goblins just fine, and probably better than you can, too. You guys don¡¯t have to keep going.¡±

    Mark almost scoffed. He was ready for more of a fight¡­

    But then he looked at his team, and he felt what they wanted. They were done. They had just spent several hours killing goblins, and though Mark had killed 90% of them, 10% of 45,000 was still 4,500 goblins. When given the offer to stop, Aaron and Samson were ready to take the out, but they looked to Barba. Barba looked inward, and at the ground. Her need for vengeance still flared in her vector, but as she stood amongst the blood and bodies, where green goblin phlegm floated in pools of fresh blood, Barba¡¯s fire of vengeance was a small thing. Sputtering and tired.

    Barba looked up from the blood and death, and said, ¡°I need to see Akailah¡¯s corpse. I need to kill the blue one. I may never see the corpse, but I will see the blue one again.¡± Her flame reignited into a cold certainty as she said, ¡°I am a Hunter and he is my prey.¡±

    It was a tense moment.

    Isoko cut the tension with a solid, ¡°Sounds good to me, but break first.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a small break, first,¡± Mark said, and then he looked to Isoko.

    Isoko joined with him rather easily, their Unions meshed with each other and the world.

    And then they beat their hearts with purity, wiping away the grime from all of them, and connecting to the nearly clear-cut forest beyond the flaming goblin city. The tops of the trees might have been turned into firewood and crossbows and spike pit traps and door traps, but the roots of those magical trees still existed, and they were hungry. Roots quested out of the ground, wrapping around bodies, as the bodies vanished into the world, and then into the starving roots. Trees bloomed in the flames of the goblin bubble city, killing some of the weaker fires and weakening some of the larger ones. Some Fire Pines blossomed in the deepest fires, like they were at home there, because they were.

    When the forest was still nascent and it could grow on its own, Mark and Isoko switched to sustenance and deprivation, feeding their team from the plants that had eaten the goblins. The team started to look better in a few beats of their heart. Eyes less sunken. Weakness in the arms less present.

    Barba¡¯s flare reignited to full.

    Aaron breathed easier.

    Samson shivered, grinning as he said, ¡°That¡¯s a shot of coffee and a good breakfast all in one!¡± And then he paused. His grin faltered. Quieter, he asked, ¡°We¡¯re not¡­ uh, eating the goblins, are we?¡±

    Mark laughed. ¡°No! We¡¯re eating the trees and stuff. They ate the goblins. We¡¯re eating from the trees.¡±

    Samson gave a terse nod. Aaron was ambivalent.

    Barba said, ¡°I tried goblin once, on a dare.¡±

    ¡°Oh my gods,¡± Isoko said, scandalized. ¡°You did not!¡±

    Mark was aghast and amused, while Aaron shook his head and Samson softly spoke of what was proper, and what was not proper at all.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°They eat us so I figured I needed to eat one of them,¡± Barba said.

    Mark asked, ¡°What part did you eat?¡±

    ¡°Some of a heart.¡±

    Mark laughed.

    Isoko threw her head back and gave a great, ¡°Ha!¡±

    Barba said, ¡°Absolutely disgusting. Would not recomme¡ª¡±

    Mark felt it the same moment Barba did.

    A presence lifted up from the lizard dragonoid on the stone tower; a mirage of light in the afternoon sun. It hadn¡¯t been there, and then it had. It was the blue tri-horn, and it briefly turned solid, to stare right down at Mark.

    Their eyes locked.

    Black lightning was already crawling out of Mark, into the air, to connect to the goblin leader, but there was no connection.

    Brilliant white light surrounded the goblin and the goblin vanished in a flash of decoherence that Mark had seen many times on the news and in vids, mostly in documentaries, and never in person. Never like this. It made him sick to his stomach.

    That was Tutorial light.

    ¡°That fucker just took the Tutorial, didn¡¯t he!¡± Isoko spat.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mark said, ¡°He did.¡±

    Barba stared at the spot where the goblin had vanished, saying, ¡°I will wait here for him to come back.¡±

    Mark almost told her that would be futile, because the goblin might come back here, but if he was smart at all he would ask to be returned to Earth. Some random spot on that planet would probably be better than coming back here, exactly where he left off, where they could make a kill box for his return. Which they were going to do anyway.

    Aaron said, ¡°We can chase off the dragonoid and build a killzone.¡±

    Samson said, ¡°There are other Lightself goblins to get, Barba. We could¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Barba said. ¡°That one. Tri-horn.¡±

    She was focused on the dragonoid in the distance, on its tower. The thing was about 700ish meters away, and it did not seem to care right now about anything.

    Down here, the goblin city still burned.

    Mark made up his mind, and then Mark tapped his helmet and said, ¡°Change of plans, Eliot. Tell Lee we appreciate and accept his offer of hunting down strays. Thank you. We need a kill box for post-Tutorial, too. We know exactly where.¡±

    Eliot said, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re already talking about that. Chase the dragonoid away? I¡¯ll send Lee after the strays.¡±

    Barba lined up a shot and fired. A spark flickered off of the dragonoid¡¯s head, right above its eyes. The dragonoid turned and looked at Barba, and it remained right where it was, doing nothing. Barba pinged it a few more times, and then again and again, and finally the thing roared and slipped down the side of its tower, into the woods beyond. It was annoyed, but it did not come out for a fight. So not that annoyed.

    It simply left.

    And soon, drones started building the killbox.

    Mark, Isoko, Samson, and Aaron stayed with Barba, on the ground, while up above spiderbots crawled over the top of the stone tower. The ¡®box¡¯ was enchanted ammunition and blades and walls that would not easily break. And Mark was pretty sure it was useless.

    He didn¡¯t say that, though. No one said that. Not yet, anyway.

    - - - -

    Mark, Isoko, Aaron, and Samson stayed with Barba for 12 hours, well into the night, when the blue ice auroras began to crowd the heavens. Winter came in slowly, frost creeping across ponds of black tar, and across trickling streams behind the burned goblin village. And then winter came in suddenly, with snow falling from the illuminated sky and frost spreading from the tips of leaves.

    Mark¡¯s armor had been shredded slightly by all of the fighting, but his Repair ring had fixed it up in the last few hours, so he felt fine. Aaron was wearing a coat and a new set of armors, while Samson was simply shielded and doing fine. Isoko was platinum and freezing, but a few breaths of warmth kept her going. Mostly, it was boring, but not for Barba.

    Snow began to collect on Barba¡¯s hair as she sat there, still as could be, staring at the kill box, waiting for something to happen. The cold didn¡¯t bother her at all.

    But that was the 12 hour mark, according to Mark¡¯s visor, so Mark prepared to say¡ª

    Isoko softly said, ¡°It¡¯s been half a day, Barba.¡±

    Barba didn¡¯t respond.

    Isoko added, ¡°5 hours is enough for a person to be declared Missing in Tutorial, or assumed to be on the other world. We might never see that tri-horn again.¡±

    ¡°Correct, and also vastly incorrect,¡± Barba said, speaking and moving for the first time in hours. Barba smoothly adjusted her rifle, putting the safety on and then putting the strap onto her shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll see him again. He went in strong. Stronger than any goblin had any right to enter Tutorial. We won¡¯t have to hunt for him, though. When he shows up again it will be as an Elder Goblin.¡± She looked up at the killbox still sitting up on the stone tower¡¯s peak. She asked, ¡°Someone sent a warning to Earth, yes?¡±

    Eliot answered, ¡°We sent a warning to Crystal Tower, yes. The systems flagged it as priority and they thanked us for our warning, but they don¡¯t think much of goblins on Earth.¡±

    Barba huffed. ¡°They never do.¡±

    There was a story there about Barba and goblins, but it wasn¡¯t the story that had happened today.

    Isoko asked, ¡°We going back, then? Lee cleared out the other remaining goblins without issue.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said. ¡°We¡¯re going back.¡±

    Barba sighed a little, and then she stared at the killbox again.

    Eliot said, ¡°We¡¯ll leave it up, but you guys should come in from the cold. I¡¯ve got birthday cake! Much better than goblin meat.¡±

    Barba cracked a smile. ¡°I don¡¯t remember what it tasted like and I hope to never repeat the experience.¡±

 183

    It was 5 am and Mark was shouldering a drunken Eliot into the apartment. Snow fell outside, under a sky of blue auroras. Breath fogged until Mark shut the door behind them, and everything was warm again.

    ¡°Goblis ¡®re ucking terrifing,¡± Eliot slurred.

    Mark smiled a little bit, getting Eliot across the living room and toward his own room, saying, ¡°I know, buddy. You want a cleansing yet?¡±

    ¡°Fuck no!¡± Eliot stated, quite clearly. And then he saw his bed. ¡°My bed!¡±

    Eliot flopped onto the edge of the bed and almost fell onto the floor, but Mark helped him all the way in. Mark pulled Eliot¡¯s shoes off and then rolled him under the covers, though he wanted to sprawl out in every direction, so Mark needed to maneuver him around more than expected. Eliot was already half-asleep, still wearing his clothes and half under the covers, and that¡¯s just how it was going to be. His vector was already nodding inward, his breath already slowing down.

    Mark cleaned him up a little bit, making sure he wasn¡¯t going to vomit in his sleep, or do other inconvenient things¡ª

    Eliot mumbled something, his vector slamming outward again as he opened his eyes just a little, to look at Mark.

    Mark winced. ¡°Er. Sorry. I cleaned you up a bit, but I left the alcohol alone.¡±

    Eliot didn¡¯t seem to care about Mark¡¯s words at all. He was focused on something far beyond this space, and also right on Mark. ¡°You could have died. That cliffside could have hit you. And Isoko. But it didn¡¯t.¡±

    Eliot locked eyes with Mark for a long moment.

    And that proved to be too much for him.

    Eliot passed out.

    ¡­ Mark tucked him in, making sure he had extra blankets because it was winter out there. And then Mark left the room and shut the door. For a while, Mark stood alone in the apartment, looking straight ahead at the darkened corners of the kitchen and then at the sliding glass porch door. The world was blue and shimmering with winter auroras in the dark of 5 am. The sun had yet to hint at its arrival.

    Mark shivered, even though he wasn¡¯t cold.

    ¡­ Yeah.

    They could have died.

    And Mark had never felt more alive.

    A little while later, while Mark was sipping soda, scrolling through quest requests from the settlement, and waiting for Isoko and Sally to get back from the party at the Sacredcuts, Mark ended up just sitting there. Thinking. He needed a way to be alerted to large attacks that came from outside his ability to sense. Usually, those sorts of attacks were so large and pointed that they were impossible to mistake.

    But that mountain throw...

    That mountain throw might have had vectors of attack, but Mark didn¡¯t feel them. He might have been too concentrated on killing goblins and the Stone Shaman goblin and his cohort could have been noise in the churn. Had Mark even sensed them at all?

    No.

    Or maybe yes?

    Maybe Mark was lying to himself that he had sensed them, and yeah, that felt closer to the truth. Because Mark had almost died there, and he hadn¡¯t seen it coming at all.

    Mark was a capable spotter, and he could function on his own fine, but one set of eyes was never enough. Eliot had thousands of eyes, when he wanted them, but he wasn¡¯t even on the battlefield¡­ Which was probably why Eliot saw that attack coming at all. There were some harsh truths to be had regarding ¡®no one fights alone¡¯ and ¡®to fight alone is to die¡¯, but Mark needed to know when big things were happening around him, because the Shaman goblin had broken Mark¡¯s electronics, and thus his communication with Eliot back in the settlement. If the goblins had done the two actions in reverse¡­ if they had had any electronic Tinkerers at all¡­

    Then maybe even Isoko¡¯s line of communication with the settlement would have been broken.

    At least Mark¡¯s spellbreaker, which he had worn all during that goblin fight, had never gone off. Nothing had tried attacking him directly in that way¡­ or if they did, then they didn¡¯t get through Mark¡¯s Power Level resistances, or his Union-buffing. That made him feel slightly better about¡­ about a lot.

    But not good enough.

    Mark let his phone fall from his hands, onto the couch, between his legs, and then he leaned back on the arm rest and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. He breathed in the good, and exhaled the bad. Black miasma filtered into the world like smoke threading into the cracks in reality, and soon, Mark felt better.

    And then he picked his phone back up¡­

    Ah.

    Right.

    There was that solution.

    ¡°You need a livium core, Quark, and then you won¡¯t break.¡±

    Quark flickered silver, taking over his phone¡¯s screen for a moment. And then he went away again. He had just heard his name, but he hadn¡¯t been asked for, so he returned to the background. He wasn¡¯t a real person, anyway. He was an ¡®it¡¯. Even with a livium core, which is what made an AI into a True AI, as long as Mark got a small core then Quark would still be soulless, and therefore not a real person.

    Mark didn¡¯t want to bring a person into the world to conscript them into wars against monsters. He would not make an AI into a slave. No slavery concerns here! Because yeah. That would be bad. Repugnant, really. But an AI that couldn¡¯t break during combat? That seemed like a great idea.

    Mark might not be able to see everything out there himself, but Eliot could, and Eliot had saved the entire team today, but those moments after killing the Shaman had been kinda rough, looking back on it. Isoko had kept her coms working, but Mark¡¯s had been destroyed. If more warnings had needed to go out, then Mark would have been¡­ Well. It would have been bad.

    So Mark needed coms that didn¡¯t break, and since he couldn¡¯t Tactile Telekinesis, then he needed a livium core AI.

    Did the settlement point reward system have livium for sale?

    Mark opened up his phone, looking at the rewards again¡­

    And he couldn¡¯t find ¡®livium core¡¯ under the alphabetical listing.

    ¡°Livable Hut, Live Bait¡­ live live live¡­ living¡­ Lixivium? What the heck is ¡®lixivium¡¯?¡± Mark added, ¡°Quark.¡±

    Quark flickered silver on his phone. ¡°Lixivium is a solution of potash and water, resulting in alkaline salts. Also known as lye. The lixivium for sale at the settlement is a traditional item, from traditional methods. Alchemists are the usual buyers.¡±

    Quark went away, revealing the list again.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Mark said. And then he frowned, looking at the list. ¡°No livium. Whelp! I guess I¡¯ll ask around tomorrow¡­¡± He glanced toward the glass porch door, to the lake in the distance and the sky overhead. It was ice blue out there and snowing, but the sky was lightening up a little. A glance at the time showed 6:57. It was pretty much ¡®tomorrow¡¯ already. ¡°¡­So where are Isoko and Sally?¡±

    Not two minutes later, Isoko and Sally¡¯s voices drifted on the air from outside. Both of them were laughing about something, and then they came inside and saw Mark there.

    ¡°You¡¯re still awake!¡± Isoko said, grinning. ¡°Let¡¯s go out and kill something! Beetles are attacking and they need all hands on deck!¡±

    Sally snorted. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad!¡±

    ¡°Bad enough,¡± Isoko countered, ¡°And lots of points, too!¡±

    Sally agreed, ¡°So let¡¯s go, Mark!¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Eliot is out cold and I¡¯m headed that way too, now that you two are back.¡±

    Isoko groaned. ¡°You can¡¯t sleep either; I know you can¡¯t!¡±

    Sally said, ¡°But the winter beetles, Mark!¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Mark said. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Sally turned to Isoko. ¡°You and me. Girls day!¡±

    ¡°Girls day!¡± Isoko said, headed to her room. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready in a minute.¡±

    Mark kinda wanted to go, too, but¡­ ¡°How about we all go out tomorrow?¡±

    Isoko groaned in her room. She was putting on her armor, as she said, ¡°Nope! Tomorrow¡­ Today? No; it¡¯s still tomorrow. Tomorrow is magic with Elaria. Today is a beetle slaughter!¡±

    Mark hummed. ¡°Well, have fun.¡±

    Sally and Isoko were both out the door within five minutes, each of them dressed for the hunt and eager to get out there.

    - - - -

    Sally snatched her blade out of the broken blue shell of the winter beetle, and she was just fast enough.

    The interior goop of the beetle flash-froze in the air, and the beetle itself, which was about two meters across, also flash-froze, its guts and the rest of its body trying to lock on to Sally¡¯s blade before she could take it out. Not two seconds after it died, it was now an ice pop of splashed icicles and frozen, sticky innards. Other beetles came this way.

    The winter beetle survival strategy was not individual survival, but survival of the horde, and if one beetle died to take out one threat, then that was good enough for them. There were thousands of them out here, after all. Or at least there had been.

    Sally had made the mistake of not removing her blade fast enough the first two times, but by the fourth kill she had done what she needed to do, and fast enough, too.

    And now the battle was over.

    Frozen beetle corpses dotted the land like splashed ice dotted with blue beetle shell and spiky black legs.

    Sally breathed deep the winter air, the chill of it refreshing, and then she billowed out a small cloud of mist, the heat of her body making a spectacle of a simple breath. Sally liked that the most about winter. Or maybe she liked the hot chocolate? Hard to say.

    Isoko walked this way, grinning a bit in the morning light, shining platinum and looking good. Too bad she was straight. Still nice to look at, though.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Isoko grinned as she approached. ¡°We need to get you a girl, girl!¡±

    Sally burst out laughing. ¡°At least Mark doesn¡¯t read my emotions out loud! Holy shit, Isoko.¡±

    ¡°What? It¡¯s just us on this side of the field!¡± Isoko grinned. And then she said, ¡°Sorry you couldn¡¯t come with us yesterday. It was terrifying.¡±

    Sally breathed in again, feeling some kinda way. Isoko got under her skin pretty easily sometimes, and in a way that Sally did not mind. There was no point in denying Isoko¡¯s words. Sally did miss the fight, and it pissed her off.

    ¡°I was watching from the command center. I about had a heart attack when that crater wall went sailing at you guys. Big things moving fast is scary.¡±

    ¡°What was really scary was that I didn¡¯t feel it coming. No vector.¡±

    Sally hummed, nodding. Being in the field without a proper scout was perhaps the scariest thing possible in the wilds. Monsters were killable, but only if you knew about them, as Barba and that doomed crew found out when they came up against those invisible goblins.

    ¡­ Sally regarded the battlefield.

    The battlefield was empty, the quest to kill the winter beetles was done. Or at least their part was done. They were about four kilometers from the city, and so were a bunch of other people. Sally noted teams to the far left and right, either walking in or still killing their beetles. There were a lot of these fuckers. Apparently they came out with the winter auroras.

    Normal creatures turned to monsters based on stuff that Sally didn¡¯t quite understand, but which she knew how it worked. Theoretically. When the souls of living things had not yet experienced a mana baptism strong enough to awaken their astral soul, like humans and goblins and artificial intelligences, and if they were old enough, then they got the Tutorial. Otherwise, things just got baptized by mana out there all willy nilly, and they turned monstrous. They got Powers based on the mana that touched them, that awakened their own mana inside. The System categorized it all, though, but Malaqua wasn¡¯t talking about how it all worked, for real.

    All Sally knew was that monsters were empowered by magic just as much as people.

    Goblins were clearly a people, but humanity was their desired breeding ground, so humans and goblins could never be friends. It was kinda sad, really. Kinda infuriating, nay, enraging, if you knew something closer to the truth. The Warlords of Drakarok, the Chosen of his Executioners, held many secrets about the true nature of the War For Life, and Sally had learned a few of them after being Chosen, after taking in Drakarok and¡­ ¡®removing¡¯ the demon Leash from Arana¡¯s body.

    Goblins were a product of demonic influence, meant to kill anything and everything they could, to wipe the slate of Earth and Daihoon clean, but the goblins had slipped their leash long ago and lost the favor of the demons, and now they were a pest species. But some of them¡­ some of them still had some of that old true power inside of them.

    Sometimes, a goblin ¡ªor more likely, goblins¡ª turned out to be a real problem for everyone.

    There were no goblins on this battlefield, though. Mark and Isoko and the others had killed them all.

    And Sally had been with Eliot, watching from afar, unable to do anything at all.

    Sally blinked away a deep emotion that was both raging and sorrowful, and said, ¡°There are a lot of scary things out there.¡±

    Isoko nodded. ¡°Yup. What scares you?¡±

    Demons, Sally wanted to say. But she didn¡¯t. That would result in Sally needing to explain, and that was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do right now, or ever¡ª

    Isoko turned around and looked at the world. ¡°Winter is really different here, and I think I love it.¡±

    It almost looked like winter in Memphi, but more fantastical, with snow on the ground and the trees. But the trees also had ice growing on the edges where the wind curled, and on the tree tops where knives of leaves sliced the freezing air. It was probably negative 15 out here right now, and it would get colder.

    The winter auroras overhead were like long snakes in the sky, and there were 5 of them. That number could change as the auroras slid around in the heavens. Apparently ¡®one aurora winters¡¯ were the stuff of nightmares. Apocalyptic winters. 9-15 auroras was normal. 5 was a deep winter. Historically, there had been 2-aurora winters, and those were really bad. Weakly-Skilled people would die in those sorts of winters, without taking proper precautions.

    One Aurora Winters were spoken about like Magefalls, causing catastrophic freezing everywhere they touched. During those winters, kaijus were almost nothing compared to the winter itself.

    Sally barely felt the cold. It was a pretty fine day, really. No kaiju today, probably.

    Besides that, General Aurora could change the sky if she wanted to prevent a bad winter. Weather Witches from the Empire could do the same, and they would, if the Winter Auroras joined together at all. The bands of light in the sky would reach the Empire of Aluatha in a few months.

    But for now, the Winter Auroras were here, and Sally kinda loved the soft blue glow everywhere. Even with the sun shining through the blue, it was all still mostly blue. Softly.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice, yeah,¡± Sally said.

    ¡­ But Sally wanted to talk about something more serious.

    It was something she had been putting off for a while.

    But it was just Isoko and her, and so¡­

    Sally looked down at Isoko, and Isoko whipped her head toward Sally, and Sally knew Isoko knew some of what was coming, but not all of it.

    Sally asked, ¡°When the time comes, when Mark talks to demons, will you be there to keep him on the right path?¡±

    ¡°¡­ What do you mean by that?¡±

    Of course she was offended. Sally would have been offended, too, if anyone had come at her like this.

    Sally explained, ¡°I worry that he¡¯s going into magic and something dangerous will happen. But you¡¯re there with him and he¡¯s not actually attached to any god at all, so he¡¯s not protected from the worst magics like you are, so he¡¯s in danger, Isoko. Pure and simple. Magic is dangerous, and Mark is in danger.¡± She had been working on that line for a few days now and she was glad Isoko directly asked her what she meant by that. Sally hadn¡¯t been too sure what she would have done or said if Isoko went off the rails too early in the conversation. Sally relaxed a little, as she saw Isoko relax, too. ¡°I worry about him, and he¡¯s too battle-focused to worry about all the shit he¡¯s getting into. I know Mark. If he finds something in magic that will allow him to kill better, or guard or remove a weakness, Mark is going to go for it. He¡¯s already talking to Archmage Blackthorn, and¡­ And I¡¯ll leave it at that.¡±

    Isoko was judging Sally, blatantly. She had a lot of thoughts behind those blank platinum eyes, and Sally appreciated that. Isoko was good people, even if she was a villain.

    And then Isoko did something Sally never expected.

    Isoko said, ¡°Mark is going to be tempted a thousand different times, all of them worse than the last. But you don¡¯t have to worry about Mark going to the demons. You have to worry about the demons giving him an impossible choice, and then him killing people to avoid that choice. That¡¯s what is going to happen when the demons come for him, Sally. He won¡¯t fall. He¡¯ll murder everything around him instead.¡±

    Sally found, surprisingly, that she was perfectly fine with that option.

    And yet¡­

    ¡°Why do you say that?¡± Sally asked.

    ¡°Mark is a good person, at his core. He¡¯s been roughed up some, but he¡¯s still a good person, and he has a firm position in society that will keep him that way. So how do you break a good person, so that they go to the demons?¡±

    ¡°¡­ Oh,¡± Sally said, knowing the real danger Isoko was worried about. It was a danger she had personally experienced, though she was pretty sure Isoko didn¡¯t know that.

    Isoko nodded. ¡°The danger is the demons turning the world against him, and stripping away all his support structures.¡±

    Sally went, ¡°¡­ Yeah.¡±

    ¡°They tried going after him once and it failed, but not completely. I¡¯m sure that people, and the demon Leash, viewed the talk Mark had with Leash at the bottom of the Light Box as a success, for a demon getting a talk at all is a success for the demon, if you squint real hard, but it really wasn¡¯t a success at all. People like Tartu don¡¯t know that, but Mark and the demon know that Leash failed. Mark is still Mark, and now the demons know that they have to kill everyone around him first to get to him, or they have to turn the world against him in other ways.¡± Isoko stood solid.

    She was right, but she was also so very wrong.

    Mark and Sally were the same in some ways. One of those ways was the need for power. Both of them had been short shits in a world full of big people, and both of them had done what they needed to do to get ahead. Sally had gone to Drakarok even before her Tutorial, and Mark had gone to Addashield.

    Mark would do whatever he needed to do to get more power, because his goal was never to just explore the world like he said.

    Mark wanted to kill all monsters, and that required so much more than what he had right now.

    Too much more.

    So much, that to have that much power would make him a god or the devil, and there was no in-between.

    Isoko had the right of it, in some ways, but in other ways she was lacking...

    But now Isoko Looked Sally in the eyes, asking her, ¡°So do you want to tell me what happened to you and your previous team, for real? Or do you want to keep dancing around that important background information? Because, if you ask me, you¡¯re the one who is prodding Mark into going sideways by asking me to ¡®look out for him¡¯, as if it is something that needs to be done because he can¡¯t be trusted with himself.¡±

    Sally stood still, feeling more seen than she had ever felt seen before.

    Isoko continued, ¡°I don¡¯t have to look out for Mark, Sally. I have to look out for all the outside threats coming after him, through me, through Eliot, and also through you.¡±

    Sally exhaled mist as she stared down at Isoko, her thoughts scattered on the fog.

    Isoko was perfectly still, like a metal statue, as she looked up at Sally, waiting for her to say something.

    Sally breathed again, then she looked out across the winter world. She did not meet Isoko¡¯s platinum gaze as she said, ¡°Maybe we can hunt some more beetles and I¡¯ll tell you¡­ what happened¡­ later.¡±

    Isoko nodded. And then, like it was nothing at all, she pulled out her phone and started tapping out words, saying, ¡°Looks like¡­ No more beetles on this side. Western side could use some backup.¡± She put away her phone. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Isoko started jogging that way...

    Sally caught up soon, feeling a bunch of different ways, and then she was running and a minor horde of winter beetles were prowling south, following the winter auroras, and they were too close to the town, though they¡¯d still miss the city walls by 50-ish meters. It wasn¡¯t enough of a margin to leave them alone.

    Sally and Isoko got to killing.

    Twenty minutes later the beetles were done and Sally and Isoko walked, silently, to the west-north gate, north of the river outlet. They got inside the settlement, still silent, and then they got on the warm tram. It was just them on the tram, riding inward, and now that Sally wasn¡¯t moving she was cold again, even though the tram was warm.

    The farmlands were to the north, most of them located under temporary winter greenhouses...

    Sally stood up and pulled the tram stop cord.

    She got off of the tram, silently, and Isoko followed.

    There, by the side of the river, far away from most cameras and most people and feeling terribly cold, Sally told Isoko about what happened to Arana, her girlfriend of a few months, and her old team, and the demon-conspiring noble that ruined everything. She spoke about how she had needed to kill Arana, because Arana had accepted Leash inside so that Sally, trapped in an iron maiden of a suit of armor, didn¡¯t say ¡®yes¡¯ first.

    Sally barely remembered how Isoko reacted, only that it was with kindness.

 184

    Mark woke to the smell of dinner cooking. When he went out to the living room he saw Sally frying up some sort of meat, and the world outside was white with snow. Isoko was watching the screen, and Eliot was poking around on his computer inside his room, but with the door open.

    ¡°Afternoon,¡± Mark said, and he got some normal welcomes in return. And then he asked, ¡°Did you guys enjoy your beetle hunt this morning?¡±

    ¡°We did!¡± Sally said, grinning as she turned. ¡°Really good day, actually.¡±

    Isoko paused the screen and turned. ¡°There¡¯s a sunset beetle hunt if you want to go. Should be another morning hunt tomorrow, and then the beetles will move on with the front of the winter auroras.¡±

    Mark said, ¡°Actually, I need to find some livium for Quark. I lost communication during the goblin hunt, and I didn¡¯t like that, so it¡¯s time to actually get Quark a non-sentient livium core. It was something like 300k or 400k goldleaf for a basic system last I checked, which is probably out of my price range for normal interactions. And it¡¯s not even on the list of available items in the settlement, anyway. But I need that incorruptible communication system, so¡­ Anyone got any ideas? Where to find livium?¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°No idea.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t help you there,¡± Sally said.

    Mark nodded and then looked into Eliot¡¯s room.

    ¡°There¡¯s really no livium here¡­¡± Eliot began, but he went quiet as he focused on his computer system, doing something¡ª He came back, blinked, and looked at Mark. ¡°Huh. No livium in the settlement at all.¡±

    Mark felt a jolt of joy that Eliot was already checking on that for him. It was surprisingly kind. Mark smiled, saying, ¡°Well thanks for checking.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s weird though, right?¡± Eliot asked, mostly himself, his vector pointed inward. ¡°I thought we had almost everything here¡­¡± He went quiet.

    ¡°How about an artificer solution?¡± Isoko asked. ¡°The Sacredcuts owe us.¡±

    Mark had a weird moment of imagining himself asking the Sacredcuts for help with Quark, or with permanent communication solutions, and then he said, ¡°They don¡¯t owe us. That was a goblin hunt and it needed to be done for everyone¡¯s sake. Come on, Isoko.¡±

    Isoko got off the couch, saying, ¡°Sure they owe us. They even said as much at the party last night.¡±

    ¡°That was just them being nice,¡± Mark said, though now he suddenly wasn¡¯t sure. And then he realized he didn¡¯t care if the Sacredcuts thought they owed him at all. Mark shook his head. ¡°An artificer solution would require upkeep. A livium core would instead take in my astral body and attune itself to my Power Levels, and thus be as strong as me at resisting various Powers. It means I don¡¯t have to learn Tactile Telekinesis, which is still years off if it¡¯s even possible at all.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°Then we should go to the Sacredcuts for a connection to livium, anyway. They probably have that, if nothing else. And we could ask Elaria tomorrow at magic lessons. If no one else knows anything, then Elaria certainly does.¡±

    Mark went, ¡°Huh¡­ Yeah. She would know.¡±

    Eliot came out of his room saying, ¡°Some of the guys at the Command Center want livium, too, and they¡¯re trying to buy it, but it¡¯s not as simple as buying something. Every livium core comes from some other True AI, or from a Summoner, and most of the Summoners in the world are apparently contracted with a lot of the AI corps. United Sapient¡¯s AI families are practically review boards for ethical AI procreation. One of the ways that United Sapient does approve people is through a successful settlement program, though. At least Quentin at the command center is aiming for one of those approvals, though he wants AI kids, which is different from your wants.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Procreation committee?¡± Mark asked. Mark was dumbfounded. ¡°That¡¯s not what I heard¡­ but I admit I stopped looking into it when I saw the price tag, like, in December.¡±

    ¡°Some people are pre-approved and I think you¡¯re one of them,¡± Eliot said. ¡°Other people have to go through a lot of hoops.¡±

    Mark felt suddenly¡­ weird. ¡°So that¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s a thing.¡±

    ¡°I assume there¡¯s a lot of stuff I didn¡¯t see,¡± Eliot said, ¡°But I haven¡¯t looked into it too much, either.¡±

    Mark didn¡¯t know what to do with any of that information, so he didn¡¯t do anything with it at all.

    He asked Sally what was cooking, and she talked about seeing beef for sale earlier in the day, so she bought it as quickly as she could. They were having hamburgers for dinner.

    It was a good dinner.

    Afterward they all watched a movie that had come out a few days ago that Sally and Eliot had both been wanting to see, but which they hadn¡¯t seen yet. It was a procedural drama about demons and lawyers and the whole thing questioned if demons were real, because sometimes people just straight-up invented or imagined demons when demons did not exist. The movie was called The Demon Defense, and it was based on some historical thing that happened 50ish years ago. It was actually a remake of an older movie that Mark had never seen, but which both Sally and Eliot had seen.

    In the new version of the movie a man stood accused of killing another man, but the defense was saying ¡®it was demons!¡¯ and the prosecution was saying ¡®no, your guy is just a killer, and demons don¡¯t exist¡¯. In the end, the guy was convicted of premeditated murder and sentenced to jail, but then, after the sentencing and sending to jail, the demon turned out to be real. The guy was not released from prison, though, because he did do the crimes. It was kind of a downer, semi-tragic ending.

    Mark liked the part where the demon turned out to be real the best. Everything before that felt like the story just wasn¡¯t realistic. Demons were real, after all. But then again, history rarely made sense, and the movie was based on history.

    Sally and Isoko had been going strong all day long, and they managed to make it through to the end of the movie, but then they moved into their rooms and crashed out the second the credits started rolling.

    Mark was honestly still tired from the goblin hunt, so he had no problems going back to his bed around 10 pm. But he couldn¡¯t sleep. He was just tired. So he read research on adamantium and watched adamantium forging videos for a few hours, constantly playing with his adamantium, crystallizing it as best he could, and then remaking it. Needles, or rather small scalpel blades of adamantium, turned out to be easy to make.

    Mark closed his eyes around midnight and made himself fall asleep.

    - -

    The world was black with edges of silver here and there, like crystals partially revealed in an unseen light.

    - -

    Mark woke up feeling groggy. It was 6 am and a fine time to rise and shine.

    Sally and Eliot went on to do some maintenance for the settlement here and there, to get started on new private housing, while Mark and Isoko left the apartment and headed toward Valen Manor. It was time for more magic lessons.

    On the tram, Mark and Isoko held onto the overhead railings as they stared at the white world outside. The lake was frozen over with tufts of islands sticking up out of the ice. Frost swirled on eddies in the sky, collected on the edges of various things like the tallest trees and solid rock markers, crafting sideways icicles and crystal formations out of the winter air. Snow gathered. The grass was dead and yet it would come back when winter was over, in 6 to 12 weeks.

    The two of them were alone on the tram.

    Mark asked, ¡°Have you had any dreams of a map, yet?¡±

    ¡°I had some weird dreams last night, but they were all about candy and bugs and eating bugs. Too many winter beetles on the mind.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah! Those beetles. There should have been another culling this morning, right?¡±

    Isoko shook her head. ¡°They moved on faster than expected. It¡¯s going to be a bad winter, or an easy one, and I don¡¯t know which.¡±

    ¡°Elaria would know, right?¡±

 185

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be a bad winter,¡± Elaria cheerfully said, as they all sat down in the greeting room where hot chocolate and cookies awaited them. ¡°Maybe even a 3-band winter!¡±

    She didn¡¯t seem too broken up about that near-disastrous forecast.

    Mark asked, ¡°3-bands means three auroras in the sky instead of the 5 that are up there right now?¡±

    ¡°Correct! Expect lows in the -20s, or more.¡± Elaria moved on, ¡°So did either of you have any strange dreams that felt more real than usual, lately?¡±

    Mark shook his head. ¡°Not that I can remember.¡±

    Isoko said, ¡°No, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Elaria¡¯s good cheer took a hit. ¡°Ah¡­ I expected something after the goblin hunt. Some sort of breakthrough. You two did quite a good showing there¡­¡± And then she put away her concern and smiled, saying, ¡°When it happens it happens. Maybe you both had a dream and you didn¡¯t remember it. If you get repeated dreams, then that is likely a mapping dream. It might not happen every night, and mapping dreams tend to border normal dreams, so there¡¯s a lot of drifting back and forth. With time and practice, you¡¯ll be able to shift into your map with some light meditation. Not today, though!¡± She stood up. ¡°Today we do more astral stretching, and I¡¯ll show you the beginner forms. You¡¯ll recognize some of the forms more as stances and various other warrior things, I am sure¡­¡±

    The three of them passed the ¡®butler¡¯, Sekail, on the way to the workout zone below the house. The butler was obviously not the butler, being as he was entirely too ferocious looking and defensive of Elaria, but he acted and dressed like a butler, so that¡¯s what he was¡­ probably.

    His presence reminded Mark that House Sacredcut had knights, and how Valen Manor had no guards, or ¡®knights¡¯, at all. Maybe they just didn¡¯t need them?

    As they descended the stairs to the open areas below the house, Mark asked, ¡°Why do the Sacredcuts have knights, but you don¡¯t? A lot of the noble houses have knights, actually. But Sekail is the only one you have here?¡±

    ¡°Mark,¡± Isoko whispered, as she tried not to cringe too much¡ª

    But Elaria just chuckled as she stepped into the large open room, where weapons held on the walls like ensconced lights and the floor was bare stone. ¡°We¡¯re under sanction by the Empire for being dragonists, and have been for a long time. We may raise no armies and have no real power, but our bloodlines are tied to a lot of great workings in the Empire so they can¡¯t get rid of us that easily. They need us alive for a lot of things. Now come! Raise your fists and let us stretch¡­¡±

    Mark got the distinct impression that he had stepped into a big issue, but Elaria didn¡¯t want to talk about it. She had only answered Mark because¡­ because of reasons. Probably a lot of reasons.

    Astral body stretching was pretty simple, and Mark had been doing it outside of Elaria¡¯s directed instruction for the last several days. Push all the way up, then down, left then right, forward then backward. And then do it again and again. Mark had a range of about 500 to 600 meters when he went really far with it, and that hadn¡¯t changed.

    It was still a physical workout, though.

    Elaria had Mark and Isoko hopping and punching, then kicking the air, and then doing stretches on the ground and against walls. Eventually, the normal stretches finished, and Elaria stood firm, her demeanor changing to something more solid. Mark was loose, but now he came to attention. Isoko did the same beside him.

    Elaria spoke, ¡°We will now go back into the silent room, and you will try to withstand the silence and feel your Binding in the dark, and in the quiet.¡±

    Mark was soon sitting cross-legged on a pillow in the dark, in a room where the walls were made of grey foam pyramids. There was no sound at all except for the sounds of his own body. His gurgling guts. His pulsing heart. His breathing and soon enough, he thought he could even hear his hair grow. It was not a good sound.

    Rushing in the ears, pulsing in the body, twitches in the legs and arms that set everything into motion and made Mark feel like he was in the belly of something much larger than himself¡ª

    ¡°Out out out!¡± Mark got up, slammed the door open, and lurched into the hallway, breathing hard.

    Elaria was in the hallway, chatting with Isoko. They stopped talking and Elaria grinned as she saw Mark. ¡°Too much?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re next, Isoko,¡± Elaria said.

    Isoko steeled herself and went into the room.

    The door clicked¡ª

    Elaria asked, ¡°So Isoko tells me that you¡¯re looking for livium for an AI assistant?¡±

    Mark blinked a few times, trying to acclimate from the deep, silent dark, to a cheery conversation with a duchess who acted more like an aunt. He acclimated fast. Mark said, ¡°Not a True AI, but one with a casing that is as solid as my own PL¡¯s, so that I can maintain communication with the settlement or anywhere else I happen to be. I can¡¯t TT like Isoko or other brawnies, and I might never be able to do that, so other solutions are needed.¡±

    Eliara nodded along, saying, ¡°And the solution of a livium core for an AI is a good one. Very good, very old solution, and to the very same problem you¡¯re having; of needing a dedicated communicator that doesn¡¯t die out there when exposed to dangerous monsters.¡±

    Mark was confused. ¡°Old solution?¡±

    ¡°Thousands of years old!¡±

    ¡­ Well that couldn¡¯t be right.

    ¡°Do you know the history of the AIs? Where they come from?¡±

    Mark rapidly organized some thoughts, and said, ¡°The AIs were what happened when old computing tech of the 1960¡¯s on Earth met magic from Daihoon, and I think¡­ The archmages of Daihoon did something to make the AIs better¡­ Which I now assume is related to what you¡¯re talking about. Livium came from Daihoon, then? With that, then the AIs became real people with vast powers. The City AIs. They were the oversight needed in the Reveal to find and categorize all the threats in various areas as the Veil ripped and tore and let everything through, going both ways. The City AIs gradually became the center defenses of many different powers.¡±

    Elaria waited.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Mark continued, ¡°The most famous City AI was Malaqua, of New Delhi, before the city was destroyed in the years of the Reveal by some cataclysm. Malaqua survived and he went on with Addashield and others through Endless Daihoon to reach Luna, the Moon, where Arakino, the City of Demons, lay. Once there they did a lot of things and Malaqua Ascended to become the Stone God, Warden of Demons, and thus ended the Reveal.¡±

    Elaria nodded. ¡°Close enough. I would say they helped usher in the close of the Reveal. Not ¡®ended¡¯ it. It was some time between Malaqua¡¯s Ascension to godhood and the rise of the Pantheon and the settling of the System into what it is today. But you got the major points, except for one, which¡­ Well. Quite honestly I thought they still taught, but maybe they don¡¯t? The story usually mentions something about how earthlings were scared of artificial intelligence, but the people of Daihoon only thought¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh! Familiars! Right.¡±

    Elaria grinned. ¡°Correct! Addashield was one of those archmages, actually, that didn¡¯t think that AIs were anything to be fearful of. He named them familiars, and that is what they became.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I forgot, uh¡­ I think I heard something about¡­ That. And then, afterward, some Summoners and the AI consortium had some deals about¡­ about a lot of stuff. So that Summoners don¡¯t go around making AIs for just anyone. Something like that.¡±

    Elaria nodded a little as Mark spoke, then she said, ¡°The existence of familiars stretches back thousands of years, but the recent advance in AI has allowed familiars to become something real. Something that isn¡¯t just a reflection of the person using livium as a familiar core.

    ¡°To cut short a great deal of magical history¡­

    ¡°Some people can solidify soulstuff into crystal form. Not mana, which is like you with your adamantium mana, but actual soulstuff. Blank soulstuff. Anyone with sufficient training can make a soul crystal and then trap a soul inside, but livium is base soulstuff in crystal form. A blank slate, if you will. Usually the only people who can do this are Seers, but with great training a normal person can do it too. Do you know the difference between what we¡¯d call a ¡®Near¡¯ and a ¡®Far¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mark said. ¡°Nears are pretty much everyone, with astral bodies that are connected to themselves. Fars are people who can move their astral body around outside of their own sphere of influence. They can split off parts of themselves and move them around far, far from their body.¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Elaria said. ¡°The livium cores made by Seers, Fars, or Summoners, can then be filled with the astral body of the user, to thus craft a familiar. Do you know what a familiar is? The stuff you might have seen in movies are not true familiars, though the idea of cats and mice and ravens being familiars is all very true. It¡¯s a nuanced topic. Have you ever seen a real familiar?¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mark shook his head. ¡°Probably not.¡±

    Elaria grinned and chuckled. She nodded. ¡°Probably not.¡± She added, ¡°The historical ¡®Familiar¡¯ is a homunculus. A created thing, made of mud and bones and sinew and various bloods and bile and other fluids of the summoner, or Summoner. Familiars are complicated things, and can be created in any sort of shape. The shape of the familiar¡¯s life will eventually become real, though. A cat familiar will become more and more of a cat. A human-shaped familiar, even if they are only half a meter tall to start with, will eventually become a real person. The cat will become a housecat or a tiger. The homunculus will grow to the size of a normal person. Eventually, somewhere along the way, the familiar, the true life, will split from the creator into a new life. Or they die. In the old times, familiars were used for a variety of menial or important tasks, from cleaning dishes to helping to cast spells, and the new familiars, the ones made of AIs and circuit boards, are much the same in that regard.¡±

    Helping to cast spells? Mark was all ears.

    ¡°The new familiar is a thing of electronics and programmed life, with limits that are easily imposed and shapes that can be anything. They will not develop more and more in those initial directions unless those limiters are removed. Much safer. No need to worry about your cat familiar turning into a real thing in the middle of the night and then deciding it needs to eat you because you made it fight for its life and eat everything else all the time. That happened more often than you might think.

    ¡°In the before times, familiars would almost always become real and cause problems due to mistreatment by their masters¡­ Big Problems. Some of the most prominent monster lines can be traced back to a homunculus progenitor, and usually to a magefall. Dartdrakes, for one. Umbercats, for another. Nowadays, most familiars remain electronic lives, never achieving true sapience.¡± Elaria finished with, ¡°Which is what you want, yes? The non sapient version?¡±

    ¡°I do not want to have a person attached to my phone; yes. Just a secure way of communicating with others while I¡¯m out in the field,¡± Mark said... But he was also interested in magic. ¡°In the stories¡­¡± Mark began, though he wasn¡¯t sure where he was going for a moment. And then he continued, ¡°In the stories, familiars help with magic. And you just said¡­ Can familiars actually help with magic?¡±

    Elaria smiled a little. ¡°That¡¯s the main use of familiars¡ª Of course they have many uses. But the historical use was to help a mage cast a spell. Familiars, when they are properly used, can bring the mage directly into their binding, and can help the mage put together spells in some ways.¡± She took a breath. She said, ¡°And that, right there, is the crux of why I am bringing all of this up. Demons do not have all the power when it comes to helping a mage make magic. Familiars are the non-demonic option for helping oneself to make magic. They¡¯re also really good at talking to demons and ensuring that nothing happens to the practitioner.¡±

    ¡­ There was a lot there.

    Mark found himself worried about that last sentence, though. ¡°Uh¡­ Why include that last part¡ª¡±

    ¡°Remember when we spoke of forbidden soul warping magics, and you asked about Thrashtalon and Wilding and the Skillers of the Empire. I said that you, with your Union, could one day easily warp the souls of people, and that you should be sure never to do that.¡± Elaria said, ¡°One must be informed of the bad things when they approach the bad things, so that they do not approach the bad things, and that is what is happening here.

    ¡°I tell you that familiars are excellent shields to have when communicating with demons because every proper demonist cultist has a familiar these days. It has always been that way.¡± And then Elaria started listing things, ¡°Inquisitors look into people who have familiars. Most people who have familiars hide them because people who know about familiars know how they¡¯re properly used. There are rules and regulations regarding livium and the AIs are the only ones really getting around those rules because of who they are, as a people. An allied people, at that. Some of the only allies humans have, actually, so we nations of the world do a lot for them, as they do for us.¡± Then she finished with, ¡°I¡¯m glad you don¡¯t know anyone with a familiar. If you had said ¡®yes¡¯ then I would have needed to do some investigation of my own, after giving you all of these proper warnings, because I know everyone who has a familiar in this settlement, and I know all of them are not cultists of Thrashtalon or the demons.¡±

    Mark felt like his eyes were open a little bit more today than they had been yesterday.

    Elaria saw Mark¡¯s moment of learning, and then she added on a moment of terror, saying, ¡°Now tell me true: Do you plan on using a familiar to talk to demons?¡±

    Mark felt the world almost sharpen. And then he focused. ¡°¡­ Not planning on it, no. But when they make me talk to them, then I need a shield against them. If a familiar can do that, then I need that functionality.¡±

    Elaria softened a little. She softly said, ¡°Good. That¡¯s an answer that falls well within the acceptable answers to my question. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that, but the people who hand out livium cores for familiars will do a lot worse.¡±

    ¡­ It sounded like she wanted Mark to have a familiar?

    But also¡­ She was talking like it was a bad thing to have one?

    It felt like mixed messages.

    Mark asked, ¡°So I should have one? Or¡­ I still want one, but I shouldn¡¯t want one?¡±

    ¡°Well of course you should have a familiar! Just because they¡¯re dangerous does not mean they are not useful; They¡¯re very useful! The limited ones are pretty limited, though. Even a basic, real AI will help you to map your binding. You¡¯ll run into the magical limits of a limited AI rather quickly, though. Just a forewarning: Don¡¯t remove the limiter. Then you¡¯re responsible for a person.¡±

    Mark caught something like¡­ longing in Elaria¡¯s vector. ¡°Do you have a familiar?¡±

    Elaria smiled, though her vector was one of long ago loss. ¡°I used to. He was murdered by the Empire in the cleanup after the Reveal, when the Imperial Family took all the power for themselves.¡±

    Mark had stepped into a soft landmine¡ª

    Isoko slammed open the silent room and rushed out, saying, ¡°I can¡¯t do it anymore! I¡­¡± She looked at Mark and Elaria and saw something had happened. ¡°What¡ª¡± She decided not to ask questions.

    But then Elaria happily said, ¡°I was telling Mark about familiars as demon-intermediaries, and how the livium core AI Mark wants is basically a familiar but by another name.¡± As Isoko¡¯s eyes widened, Elaria turned to Mark. ¡°House Valen can¡¯t get a familiar. We¡¯re forbidden from using them. If I were you, I would go and ask Marigold Metallic about that sort of thing. As a side note: Your banker has been wanting to talk to you about selling your adamantium and I think the Empire wants to buy. Could be a different source, but that is doubtful. There¡¯s a lot of interesting things happening in the adamantium market these days!¡± She waved a hand. ¡°But that¡¯s for later! I have you for at least another 30 minutes and so we¡¯re going to start the forms. You¡¯re probably close enough to seeing your binding that you can use the forms, and if not, then you¡¯ll need the forms anyway. The first ones are just more stretching, and¡­¡±

    What followed was an exercise in what Mark thought of as Chinese Dancing, but from Daihoon. He was sure it had a proper name, but all Elaria called it was formwork. Mark made an O-shape with his hands and he moved slowly left and right, and then he separated his hands and lifted his left foot as he balanced on his right and stretched out toward the right with both hands. He was supposed to stretch his astral body out in every direction of his limbs as he moved, too, which wasn¡¯t that difficult, but Elaria kept telling him that if it was easy then he wasn¡¯t stretching far enough. If he moved too fast then that was another wrong action. If he moved too slow then that was another mistake.

    Isoko was doing great, though.

    ¡°Reminds me of Tai Chi,¡± Isoko said, balancing on the toes of her left foot as she leaned forward all the way and spread her arms wide, as she arched her right leg backward, in the air. ¡°Mom and Dad were big into that growing up, and now I think I know why.¡±

    Mark faltered a little as he tried to hold the same pose, and he was not nearly horizontal with his chest enough, but he managed to hold most of the pose. For about 3 seconds.

    Elaria said, ¡°Hold it there for another 10 seconds. 9, 8, 7¡­ good very good¡ª Straighten that back leg.¡±

    Mark straightened his back leg.

    He was sweating and tired and when the session ended he collapsed onto his ass on the ground, happy it was over, for now.

    Soon, both Mark and Isoko were at the front door and bowing to Elaria as they left, saying thanks.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t have repeating dreams by next week then maybe we need to find some truly terrifying monsters to send you against. I was so sure the goblins would help you get to the next level, but¡­ Hmm. Next week.¡± Elaria added, ¡°And be sure to talk to Marigold, and ask her about familiars!¡±

    Mark smiled a little. ¡°I will, thank you.¡±

 186

    ¡°The Countess will see you now,¡± said the banker.

    Mark put down his designer coffee and got up from his seat in the waiting room, saying to Isoko, ¡°I¡¯ll try not to be long.¡±

    Isoko was reading on her phone but she paused to look up at Mark. ¡°Oh! Take your time. I¡¯m reading.¡± She went back to reading. She was sipping her own designer coffee as she read. She was comfortable.

    The bank was good about making you feel good to be here.

    Mark smiled a little bit and went with the banker down the hallways of Metallic Bank. The place was all white, off-white, and with various levels of gold on the walls and on the lighting figures. Tasteful, though. Not gilt-everything. The walls were mostly-flat reliefs of trees with leaf-edges painted gold, while marble-like veins of gold reached through the branches. The pillars were tree-trunk shaped, and the ground was perfectly flat, and here and there someone had pressed gold leaves into the floor, like the scattering of winter leaves.

    Goldleaf trees were highly protected things. Mark had never seen one in person, and he still hadn¡¯t. But their imagery was everywhere in this bank, and in a lot of banks the world over. Mark wondered, as the banker took him down the hallway, if House Metallic had an actual goldleaf tree somewhere. Probably yes. Probably somewhere very secure, too.

    Mark wanted to see it.

    The banker dude opened a big pair of double doors and Marigold was inside, sitting at her large white wood desk. The room was ¡®opulent business comfort¡¯, which Mark was beginning to recognize as a style of plush leather chairs and pictures of people shaking hands on shelves and a few diplomas located somewhere in the room. In Marigold¡¯s office, her diplomas were on the wall opposite of the knickknack shelves.

    Marigold was a mousy woman with blonde hair who wore a business-style white-and-gold dress. She smiled, standing up to say, ¡°Mark! I¡¯m glad you came in. Please have a seat. Can I get you a coffee?¡± She gestured to a coffee machine to the side. It was a rich-looking thing of polished brass that almost looked gold, with a bunch of buttons on the front. ¡°It makes really good coffee.¡±

    The banker behind Mark shut the door.

    Mark said, ¡°No thank you, but thanks for the offer.¡±

    Marigold nodded then sat back down. ¡°Please sit with me. How can I help you today?¡±

    Mark sat in the nice chair meant for customers, saying, ¡°I¡¯ve heard from Elaria that you want to talk to me about selling adamantium, so I¡¯d like to discuss whatever that means. Also, in an unrelated matter, Elaria told me some about familiars and AIs and livium cores, because I wanted a livium core for Quark. I didn¡¯t know about the regulations regarding keeping familiars out of the hands of demon cultists, but I don¡¯t think those apply to me because the last time I asked actual AIs about this they were rather easy with their recommendations of how to get an AI. Last I checked, all it would cost me is money, but everywhere today, I¡¯m being told I need to be approved. Eliot thinks I have been pre-approved. So I still want a livium core. I want a familiar to make sure that my main source of communication isn¡¯t interrupted by various monster actions, like when the goblins tore at my communications the other day and we needed a resupply. I¡¯ve been quoted 300,000 goldleaf for a limited core, but that was back on Earth. Elaria said you might have a connection there?

    ¡°So those are my two things, today.

    ¡°Selling adamantium and getting a livium core for Quark.¡±

    Marigold¡¯s vector did a funky flip as Mark spoke, going from excited to deeply wary, and then back to excited. Her face betrayed none of that, though.

    Marigold nodded when Mark was finished, then asked, ¡°You spoke to a True AI about livium before?¡± She clarified, ¡°Not a limited core, but a real person.¡±

    ¡°Several people. It was on an AI street back in Memphi. None of them mentioned pre-approval at all, or any of whatever regulations Elaria was talking about.¡± Mark added, ¡°That was back in Memphi, though.¡±

    He was pretty sure that regulations were different on different worlds.

    ¡°If you were never told about needing approval before today then you probably are pre-approved,¡± Marigold said. ¡°The various AI societies out there are rather exact when it comes to people they approve of, but if they do approve of a person then those people get put on lists that are publicly accessible to the AIs, and to whoever fills out the paperwork to look at those lists. Mostly, the pre-approved people are all people with great Skills, and every Tri-Talent is auto-approved, with rare exceptions. You probably have several notes next to your name, and I don¡¯t want to be the one to bandy around conspiracies, but not many people have AIs at all, but you got yours from¡­ someone, yes?¡±

    ¡­ Oh.

    Mark had gotten Quark from Citadel of Freyala Resources because that was an option and it sounded neat, so¡­ So yeah, Mark had gotten Quark. But yeah. Not many people had AIs. Uh.

    Mark asked, ¡°Is it because the eventual AI that could develop¡­ will gain my Skills?¡±

    ¡°Usually something similar, yes.¡±

    ¡­ Huh.

    ¡­ Mark was fine with that.

    Marigold asked, ¡°To clarify, you want a limited AI? Not a True AI?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Marigold nodded, then moved on, ¡°Regarding adamantium sales¡­¡± She got a little serious as she continued, ¡°The Empire wishes to buy whatever you¡¯re willing to sell at the rate of 67.85 million per 1,000 grams.¡±

    That number was like a gut punch and a slap to the face with cold water, all at once.

    Mark found he had stopped breathing.

    And then Mark breathed, and asked, ¡°The¡­ the price went up that much? Wasn¡¯t it 40 million?¡±

    ¡°42.7 million as of 12 days ago, yes. It had been steady and lower than usual, due to a certain dragon flooding the market, but because the market had been flooded, the entry point for experimenting with adamantium went down. People were using it for more and more things. And then, suddenly, the Grand Mages of the Dominion of Okuana started buying everything that they could get their hands on 12 days ago. They had been buying it through intermediaries before then, and that might have been going on for as long as 2 weeks, but the true buyers of all that adamantium got leaked, though it was probably more of a spy-network shift in policy that let that information go. No one is really sure.

    ¡°Point is:

    ¡°Since then the price of adamantium has gone up by the millions every day. It will probably go higher, because the Empire of Aluatha and several nations on Earth, including Crystal Tower, are buying up supplies to compete with the Dominion of Okuana. For what end? I cannot say.¡± Marigold strongly said, ¡°But everyone thinks that the Dominion figured out something new that had never been done before, and whatever Okuana discovered has caused them to violate every known adamantium trade treaty ever made.

    ¡°I need you to understand that this stuff is nuclear weapons. This stuff is the safety of a city versus kaijus. There are limits to what nations are allowed to trade in, because everyone needs adamantium. But Okuana is violating those admittedly loose treaties and they¡¯re not even sorry about it.

    ¡°And so, the Empire wants to buy your adamantium. As much as you are willing to make and sell, they will buy all of it.

    ¡°But if you do this, then something will happen down the line, and you¡¯ll be outed as adamantium blooded. I can¡¯t say what, exactly, will happen when that happens, but historically you¡¯ll probably end up with watchers and be heavily requested to hide away somewhere, or accept even more watchers if you want out into the world.¡±

    Mark¡¯s hopes sailed and crashed as new information capsized his emotions.

    And then Marigold¡¯s vector did a weird thing, and she said, ¡°Or¡­ the True AI spawned from your self might be adamantium blooded, too. Which could be a whole different bundle of issues.¡±

    ¡­ Hmm.

    ¡­ Mark had a weird moment.

    Strangely enough, when being confronted with a world out to get him, in some ephemeral future, Mark did not run and hide. That was almost his first reaction, but it wasn¡¯t his actual reaction at all. Mark had decided a while ago that he wasn¡¯t going to be scared of the future. The future would come, and Mark would be ready for it.

    And if he had an adamantium AI buddy to help, then that would be all the better.

    Mark said, ¡°I won¡¯t be exploited, but I will sell what I can to the world, so when a time of reckoning comes for me and mine I expect House Metallic to stand with me, as a part of mine.¡±

    Marigold had a few odd reactions to Mark¡¯s quite daring request. They were a multinational bank, charged, by themselves, with protecting the metal blooded people who came into their circle. For Mark to speak like this with Marigold, who expected to be the branch leader of the Twin City of Memphi, to connect Memphi and Earth to the Aluatha Empire and Daihoon, was like a child asking an adult for a seat at the biggest table in the world.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But that¡¯s exactly what Mark was doing, and he knew it.

    As their eyes met, and held, Marigold knew Mark knew what he was asking for, and what he thought he was doing.

    Marigold easily said, ¡°Done and done. I¡¯ll be your personal banker from now on; I will not hand you off to another. The pact is sealed, if you desire it.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Mark said.

    ¡°Then let us speak of production rates and transfer fees¡­¡±

    They spoke for a while about shifts of metal on global scales and who the actual buyers were, and how Mark would retain anonymity until someone broke into their systems desiring to know where Aluatha was getting its adamantium from. Everyone knew where all the farmed adamantium beasts in the world were. All of them were tracked and guarded extremely heavily. And for a new source to appear? Most would claim the new source was Addavein, and to decry the seller with trying to sell dragon adamantium, which was tantamount to high treason. But Marigold would be selling this metal to the Aluatha Empire, and both buyers there knew what was up. So, it was only a matter of time for buyers outside of this arrangement to catch wind of it. No security was ever perfect, and most security failed at the individual level with personal scam attacks and fake emails with links to viruses, but when Mark got Quark his real body upgrade, most of those possible avenues of egress would go away.

    ¡°There¡¯s still the normal route to find out about metal blooded, but you have a No-Wealth metal ring, which I am very glad to see you wearing,¡± Marigold said, ¡°So you¡¯re protected in that way. But you were wearing an adamantium helmet when fighting the goblins, and people saw, and there¡¯s already that rumor of you selling Addavein¡¯s metal, so expect people coming around eventually, looking to steal or to bring you up on charges of high treason. Normal settlement security will stop all of that. But normal security won¡¯t stop state-level actors.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± Mark said.

    Marigold paused, then said, ¡°It takes a lot of confidence to act at this level, Mark. You¡¯re¡­ delightfully secure in your stance, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I am, but I¡¯m still learning, too, thank you.¡±

    Marigold nodded, then continued.

    At the end of the talk, Mark signed some paperwork and handed over 750 grams of adamantium. He still had 9,500 grams of the stuff left over. 750 was the standard weight for a kaiju blade, though, which is what this would be turned into.

    Marigold grinned, saying, ¡°You still have more than enough left to add a crown to your helmet.¡±

    When Mark had first met with Marigold, privately, she had told him the story of the Dragon King. The Dragon King had united the world after the Magefall that separated Daihoon from Earth, promising great things and better futures. But then he died, promises undelivered.

    Civilization broke that much more in his death.

    Mark smirked a little, unsure of the depths that Marigold¡¯s admittance meant for her, or for him. Mark asked, ¡°You like the Dragon King look?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Marigold said, unreservedly, her vector a serious thing. ¡°He¡¯s a great cautionary tale, but when he was alive he was a grand hope.¡±

    - - - -

    In the morning, Mark hunted a winter beetle resurgence with a bunch of other people called up for the semi-emergency response. In the evening, he went out with Sally and cracked ice turtle shells in the twilight.

    He tried to sleep at a normal time but he had to put himself to sleep to actually get there.

    - -

    Mark walked on black crystal that glinted in the black with silver lines like razor blades in the dark. Those glints were the only hint as to what lay all around him. The land was black, the sky was black, and the light was not light at all.

    - -

    In the morning, Mark recalled a dream that he did not remember. It was a foggy thing. A lot of black. Not much else.

    Mark, Isoko, Sally, and Eliot, all together, hunted winter boars that threatened the southern walls of the settlement. Eliot braved the outside world, but he didn¡¯t go very far outside the walls. The big white boars had ice for tusks and hooves and they traveled in troupes to hunt for sources of magic to consume, so they had come to the settlement walls to eat the walls, but that was not allowed. Eliot burned the boars with flamethrower towers that walked along on spider legs and spat bright purple flame. It was a good hunt.

    Easy hunt.

    Delicious hunt, too, eventually.

    Mark carved up multiple 500 kilo boars and did a shit job of it, but it was good enough. Eliot stuck the boars onto spits over large open flames, and soon they were eating roasted boar meat right inside the settlement walls. They shared with whoever came by the southern gate tram stop. Soon, there were tens of people all eating boar meat, and Barba showed up along with Samson. She saw how butchered the boars were and laughed a lot. She kept laughing as she saw where Mark had cut too deep and they had to stitch a leg back on to the beast so it could all roast together.

    ¡°Adamantium cuts really easily!¡±

    ¡°I will teach you how to properly prepare a carcass some day, Mark.¡± And then Barba teased, ¡°But what is this ¡®cutting up meat with adamantium¡¯! This is disgusting! You cut up everything with that stuff!¡±

    ¡°My metal is clean!¡± Mark defended himself, and then added, ¡°Miss goblin eater!¡±

    Barba laughed, along with several others.

    That night, Mark slept terribly, so he made himself fall asleep again.

    - -

    Footsteps on a black plain.

    The ground sparkled with silver lines, denoting the edges of crystal here and there.

    The sky was not black anymore. It was just dark.

    The ground itself was actually darker than black, drinking in everything, even the dark, except silver light shimmered on the black rather easily. Where was the silver light coming from?

    Mark looked for the light, and he found the light was him.

    And then he looked down, and the darker-than-black ground was clear as could be.

    The planetoid underfoot was a geode of crystal, with an interior that shimmered¡ª

    - -

    Mark startled awake.

    For a long moment he sat in bed, thinking. Because now that he was here, awake, remembering his dream, and the dream didn¡¯t fade away. Mark had dreamed of the black landscape twice already. Yesterday, for sure, but also¡­ a day prior to that? Maybe a third time? Mark wasn¡¯t sure when, but maybe that had been the third dream of the black landscape.

    Had it been a mapping dream?

    - - - -

    ¡°Yes!¡± Elaria said, ¡°That¡¯s a mapping dream!¡±

    Mark was alone with Elaria in a side room while Isoko waited in the other room. Elaria wanted to speak to Mark alone after she heard of his possible mapping dream. And now, Mark had explained his dream from front to back, speaking of the black landscape.

    Elaria continued, ¡°It¡¯s different for everyone, but a lot of it is the same. A landscape of some sort. Not many defining features. Don¡¯t tell Isoko what to expect, or she might misinterpret her dreams; that¡¯s why I wanted to separate you two for this.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Ah, well...¡±

    Elaria winced. ¡°You already talked to her about it?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°¡­ Well that¡¯s okay, too, I suppose. Anyway¡­ I won¡¯t go any further than this with you until she catches up. She shouldn¡¯t be too much further behind. But I can tell you that you should try to enter that mental space where you see the landscape. Meditate. Sleep will get you there, too. Eventually it will be a ¡®switch¡¯ you can ¡®throw¡¯ and you can open your astral eyes and see your astral body from the inside. That¡¯s where you¡¯re at now at Opening the Bindings. Seeing the Binding.¡±

    Mark felt good about that. ¡°Sounds great! So I¡¯ll¡­ try to meditate?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Elaria said, happily. ¡°You¡¯re getting there in good order. The rest can take a lifetime. In other good news, I heard that a livium core is being delivered to you today. I don¡¯t know who is bringing it, but I think they¡¯re coming through a portal from Memphi along with a slew of others.¡± She clapped her hands a little bit, excitedly saying, ¡°We¡¯re finally opening a portal!¡±

    ¡°Oh! ¡­Err...¡± Mark was having mixed emotions. ¡°Are we ready to open portals?¡±

    Portals meant kaiju spawning nearby, or running very fast to get here. Mark fully expected the settlement to be able to defend against kaiju, since Aurora was here along with others, and Memphi would be fine, too, but¡­ it was still calling kaiju to the area.

    And there wasn¡¯t a gatehouse, either.

    Eliot had been excited to build a gatehouse. He had been expecting the call to come down the wire any day now, because they needed a gatehouse to make a contained portal that didn¡¯t accidentally rip to kaiju-size or which suddenly closed on whatever was coming through. The System did that second thing a lot; close the Veil on whatever was coming through the Veil. Such closures tended to cut things in half.

    ¡°We don¡¯t even have a gatehouse,¡± Mark said, as though that explained everything.

    It explained enough.

    ¡°By the time you get back Eliot will either be out there building it, or getting the news to build it some time shortly. If he hasn¡¯t, then you can tell him to expect the call.¡±

    Mark grinned. ¡°Eliot is going to love that.¡±

    ¡°Now let¡¯s go get Isoko and we can do some small stretches today¡­¡±

    Well sure, Mark supposed. Nothing better than working out when the iron was hot.