ã€ŠCelestianã€‹


 1.01 - Frustration

    As the mangled box tumbled towards the fiery flow far below, a strange sense of relief kept Quinn from leaping in after it. The reflections on the polished box flickered between the flames and his still-horrified face. The distant echo of a dozen yells ripped him from the moment and back into the present, causing him to whirl and scan the crowd down below. His heart wrenched as he pushed himself up into a stumbling sprint towards the elevator.

    The heavy, ancient doors shuddered with a reverberating groan as he slammed the open button.

    "Useless Roughworks fossil, MOVE!"

    Gunfire broke out in the distance, making the decision for him. He closed his eyes, pressing his palms to the cold steel of the massive doors. On contact, his mind burst with new information and disappointment.

    "Young human, is Elevator not moving at an acceptable rate? Elevator is designed for 2.5 meters per second for ascent and 10.5 meters per second for descent."

    Quinn snorted despite the chaos. "I need your doors open; it''s dangerous for me outside." He felt the doors shudder again in response.

    "Doors require repair. Please repair doors before safe use can be guaranteed."

    His anger and fear surged. He pushed his will into the doors.

    "Understood, compliance to override protocol. Total mechanical alteration affected."

    The doors screeched in warning, giving him just a moment to jump back before each slammed aside with a crunch of gears. He rushed to the edge and looked past the now-screaming pulleys and cables down into the dark, flickering shaft below.

    "You''re dead, Whitlocke!"

    Quinn whipped around to face the owner of the voice. The enshadowed figure began reaching into his jacket, slowly pulling out a weapon. Quinn slipped a coin from his sleeve as he stared into the man''s eyes, flipping it high into the air.

    "Heads."

    Quinn grinned and let himself fall backwards into the darkness.

    <hr>

    "In the early years of the conflict, The Spider was a pawn of the scholar-state. Within a few years it was clear to us all that the web had grown larger than anyone could have imagined." - Joss Mayflower

    <hr>

    Quinn slammed a fist down on the table. The echoes seemed to shake the bookshelves, leaving his companion surprised, eyes wide and brows raised. The thundercloud of anger churning in his mind brought a torrent of memories crashing over him, each one flooding back to the surface. He and his father at the forge, cutting and welding scraps. His mother''s disapproval of the makeshift furnace in his bedroom. His first candle machine, scrapped together and coaxed into functionality through sheer determination. His first sale, the praise of his father¡¯s forge-mates. His apprenticeship under his father, soon giving way to his journeyman training under Maven Lance Zai, the Director of Engineering at the Royal Rheidenas Academy. Working long hours in the lab with Joss and the rest of the team. Now they had lost the lead bought by years of hard work when they were so close to completion.

    "Blast it all Joss!" Quinn said. "We were so close! Somebody couldn''t keep their mouth shut. Who could have let this much slip?"

    "It''s bad, yes, but for now we should get out of the library." said Joss with a shushing motion.

    Depositing the offending paper into his satchel, Joss spared a glance back at his enraged friend.

    "C''mon, let''s grab some sunshine ¨C I think we can both use a break from this crypt. We will figure this out" Joss said, clapping Quinn on the shoulder and heading to the door.

    He was hiding it well but Joss was dazed, it felt like his world was crumbling around him. It had been early in their apprenticeships under the Zai couple, Joss under Maven Liora Zai and Quinn under Maven Lance Zai, that they had first met. They had helped each other with their journeyman''s projects and been sharing ideas for years, right up to their current and compromised venture.

    Quinn pushed himself to his feet and gathered his tools. There was still hope but they had to do some damage control. The premise of their senior project at the Royal Rheidenas Academy had been published in a prominent academic newspaper. He knew it wasn''t the fault of Carios, a longtime friend and the head of the Printer''s Guild, but this still felt like a betrayal to see the work of machines he knew so well stabbing him in the back.

    He appreciated that Joss wasn''t hurt by his outburst, and regretted lashing out. Quinn knew that this situation wasn''t his alone to bear, but would affect their whole team. Despite the rising tightness in his chest, he pushed through to the surface. He and Joss now had to track everyone down and push up the development timeline¡­.a lot.

    They walked and worried through the winding stone halls. The cavernous library deep below the buildings and gardens above was silent other than their footfalls and the occasional whispers from somewhere in the stacks. The tunnels, carved out centuries before, had seen many an agonized student in the throes of the academic lifestyle. The books huddled on the shelves above, so seemingly indifferent to their frustration, may have changed their tune if they only knew the ramifications of the coming storm promised by the plodding steps of the men below.

    Several students rushed down the spiral staircase ahead of the pair, exchanging nods numbly as they passed. The library had a reputation for being the reluctant first choice for study and research. The cold halls swallowed up any who entered, promising solitude and focus. Almost everywhere else at RRA had the same harsh stone, whether natural or brick. The library, however, did not have windows or sunlight. Busy students rushed with and by them to and from meetings with their instructing Mavens.

    "There''s a solution to this, you know," Joss said with a sidelong glance at Quinn. "We need to talk to Mellissa."

    Quinn winced. Throughout his time at RRA, he had made many lasting friendships with students and professors. Very few friends had had such an important impact on his academic life as Astator of Sentient Sciences, Mellissa Cairn. As a freshly minted RRA student, he had first been subjected to intense grammatical scrutiny in his Sentient Science language courses. Despite being a rock-solid communicator, the use of pen and paper quickly proved mentally excruciating for him. Mellissa had coached him through dozens of office hour visits, whipping him into Academy standard academic shape with her sharp tongue and smirk. She was also an incorrigible gossip, able to rattle off the latest rumors or hearsay at the slightest prompting.

    "Director Zai is going to have me tossed into the river when she finds out," said Quinn.

    "Quinn, this isn''t your fault. We knew there was a risk of this happening, Zai told us that herself. This project is special! So many people would love to get their hands on it, and so many would want it to fail. We''ve all been taking proactive steps to protect our research data and prototypes according to the guidelines!" said Joss.

    "For all the good it did us," grumbled Quinn, shaking his head. He moved aside at the top of the stairwell to let a clique of crisply uniformed underclassmen pass by. He knew he was wallowing in his anger when he ought to be considering what to do next. He knew that''s what his mother would point out. For the moment, his only goal was to leave the grim scene of the Academy behind. Joss led him through the flying arches of the main floor''s halls, his own thoughts overtaken by the bustle around them. Joss wasn''t as angry as Quinn, but his sadness was exceedingly deep. They had worked hard, long, and late hours with their team to make something of their breakthrough ¨C now he realized that many of his dreams were in jeopardy. He shook himself from his stupor, his eyes locking with a familiar face looking as distraught as he felt.

    "Joss! Quinn! What happened?" demanded Haru, her twin brother Reid grimly looking over her shoulder, mirroring the sentiment. Their long dark hair fell over their uniforms, their most dominant sibling feature. The Asplund twins had been their project partners for the last two years. Quinn had first met Haru in a biological research course, hitting it off immediately and growing closer as they worked together in labs throughout several courses. Reid had won an award at RRA for his academic excellence. Maven Zai orchestrated a meeting between Reid and Joss, and soon the four had begun working together.

    "We just learned that the project is being discussed publicly?" Haru asked in a tense, hushed tone. "How did this happen? We were so meticulous and invested so much time..."

    Joss made a placating gesture. "We don''t know either but we¡¯re gonna figure this out. Right now we need to establish how much has been compromised and then decide how to move forward."

    "Quinn, are you okay? You don''t look so good." asked Reid.

    "No." said Quinn. "I need to think about this. Can you two start checking around? Try and find out how the leak happened."

    Only then did Quinn bring his eyes up to meet those of Haru and Reid, his gaze pleading for support. Haru''s expression softened.

    "Of course Quinn. To be clear, we do not blame you for any of this." said Haru. "We just weren''t careful enough. We must have forgotten something in the lab overnight and someone got in and saw it. This is a massive setback but we can handle this as a team."

    Reid nodded.

    "This isn''t your fault, Quinn. We''ll start talking to the underclassman brats snooping around in the evenings and figure out who needs a jaw realignment" he said, cracking his knuckles.

    Joss gave him a weak smile. "Just don''t dig us any deeper into a hole until we get out of this one please."

    Reid gave a joking salute as he and Haru turned and started down the large access hall toward the lab rooms in the Engineering college¡¯s sector of the RRA building. They disappeared around the bend in the looping circular hall terminating at each end of the large square atrium which served as the main entryway to the building.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Quinn took a deep breath, vacantly scanning the metal framework of the building¡¯s glass dome far above, reinforced with intricate patterns, shadows of outside horizontal rings encircling the dome. The glass enclosed the atrium far above them in the heart of the academy¡¯s massive sprawling building.

    "I really do need some time to think about this, let''s go to the park at Heartland Haven," Quinn said, ¡°We always do our best work under open sky.¡±

    The two men exited the shadowy halls of the academy, stepping into the golden afternoon light that bathed the courtyard. At the gates they quickly hailed a ride from the odd herd of steel coaches and drawn carriages. Soon the rumble and clicks of their coach¡¯s engine resounded where silence otherwise reigned once again. Leaning back, Joss pulled a notebook from his satchel, studying the recent commands he had been drafting for their prototype.

    "I don''t think the core program leaked," said Joss, "There were no details, it was the physical draft for the variable-state system."

    "So worst case scenario then," groaned Quinn. "We inherited so much of the system from Lance that we basically lost any advantage we had. It''s practically a miracle I matched the tolerance of his specifications. Reid still hadn''t cracked the chemical makeup last we knew though, right?"

    "He still had no clue," Joss replied. "All he said was that it reacts nominally to the cooling agent, and that he feels hungry after direct contact."

    Quinn grinned despite himself. "Reid better not eat it. Maybe it''s secretly Tuzzop Guild jam from the sandwiches Reid keeps sneaking into the lab or something."

    Joss smiled back. "I guess if we can''t figure out what it actually is, it can''t leak," he said. ¡°We should still send a message to Mellissa.¡±

    Quinn reluctantly pulled his voxcom from its holster, where it had been resting in the dim light cast through the cab''s window. He read the text display and his blood turned to ice.

    S | ID 1903 | 188:07:20:13:45:58 | PD: LZ

    R | ID 591032 | PD: QW

    # Tomorrow, my office. Bring a plan and make it good.

    # Zai

    Quinn stared at the text, forcing down the dread creeping into his mind. Typically he was pleased to receive a message from Liora, but the curt words made her agitation evident. She wanted answers, from him specifically. He continued to stare until Joss'' voice broke through his thoughts.

    "... here let me read it," said Joss, moving to the seat beside Quinn. "Oh. She''s pissed. Fair enough."

    Quinn was already deep in thought and barely heard him. They owed so much to Liora. Her husband, Lance, had entrusted them with his prototype for the variable state machine. The device had been able to do little more than store basic information at the start, integers and encoded strings of characters. Quinn had assisted by creating a miniaturized flash crystallization device to capture a moment''s value. In the early stages this had been an important step for reliable data retrieval. Joss, with the oversight of Liora, had continued refining the system of codecs required for data storage in such a chaotic state. The precise mechanics had become Quinn''s obsession over the years, tuning them closer and closer to perfection.

    Hoping to bridge further into the digital renaissance of the Bjornovian Confederacy, a nearby starnation, the Zais had arranged a diplomatic visit nearly a decade before. Lance and Liora were firm believers in free availability of information for the education of all, having been stymied by their own access to resources as trade of information took over as an industry, and free information sharing decreased. They had set out to create an information storage system on the scale of the Bjornovans, mirroring their incredible growth in innovation. Early interaction between the civilizations had led to what Liora had called "bad habits". Bjornovian scholars hoarded information, and treated it almost as a currency. The Zais¡¯ RRA partners and sponsors gradually chose to pursue private research as the information trade industry became more lucrative. The couple had had no recourse but to continue research on their own. Eventually they each found promising specialists and had snatched them up as their apprentices, the two becoming catalysts for the couple''s dream.

    Quinn considered the words of the offending journal. The reader base of The Noble Trendsetter was wide-reaching, though not as popular as the international Rheidella Reporter. Trendsetter had been established during the unification of the Royal Colleges, appealing to the countless academics and the hungry minds of researchers. They had broken stories on numerous discoveries within the institution in recent years and had an excellent reputation for accuracy and quick coverage. Unfortunately its reputation worked against Quinn this time, as it meant that it was a foregone conclusion that the information had been widely disseminated. Many interested parties would already be looking to replicate the crystallization state machine as they raced the team to obtain Adeios, the mysterious and puzzling substance passed on by Lance.

    He shifted his gaze to the streets going by. The cobbled roads of the districts near RRA had given way to pavement and the towering buildings of the port district nearing the Nioka river that cut through the heart of the city. The cover of the intricate structures dozens of stories above blocked the sun from view as they drove through the cool shadows of the superstructures. Soon they joined the queue of coaches and cycles climbing up toward the cabled spires of the river bridge. The reflections of the sun breaking through the trestles lit up the metal and glass of the piloted carriages, coaches, and rumbling trains along each side of the central highway.

    The heat of the day had finally begun to drop as they stepped out into the refreshing open air of Heartland Haven river park. Quinn slung his bag over a shoulder and walked with Joss after paying the coach fare. The deep green of the trees contrasting against the river in the background was always comforting to him after thousands of hours spent in thought below their branches. The winding cobbled path through the topiaries eventually led to the flagstone clearing revealing fountains and open cabanas along the river. Both men caught sight of a lone familiar figure across the park with auburn hair, maroon and black uniform to match their own, and one leg dangling over the concrete bank of the water''s edge as she sketched.

    "We should tell her," said Joss.

    "I don''t want to stress her out. Let''s say hi and then I can tell her later once we have this figured out" Quinn replied.

    Joss looked at him sideways. "You''ll tell her? We can talk to her together."

    She turned as they approached, eyes shining as she saw them.

    "Well if you wanted to be in the picture you could have just asked, you don''t have to blend into the scenery to get into the frame" said Lillian.

    "Hi Lily" said Quinn, "We''re just here to-"

    "-see if you''d be part of our team for the exit exams!" Joss said, cutting him off.

    Quinn''s eyes bulged, head pivoting to stare at Joss. Lily smiled wide and put down her sketch.

    "I accept, on one condition" she said. "I want an introduction from Quinn to the Printer''s Guild."

    "Done" the men said in unison, exchanging glances. They often found themselves oddly in sync when it came to their reaction to Lily.

    "Excellent! Ideally I would like to get that introduction this week, would that be possible?" she asked.

    "How about tomorrow at midday? We can get some lunch and I can set up a meeting with Carios" Quinn said, poorly attempting to stifle his enthusiasm.

    "Perfect! Well I spent too much time sketching already so I will see you tomorrow Q. See you later Joss!" she said, hopping up and waving as she strolled away, sketch in hand.

    "I will never understand how Sentient Science students have that much free time." said Joss.

    "No kidding." Quinn agreed, "But I''ll find the time, anything is worth it to get her on the team."

    They found an unoccupied cabana and soon Quinn had pulled a pile of bits and bobs from his backpack, tinkering as they talked, while Joss simply enjoyed the afternoon breeze blowing inland. Airships rode the winds above them, with sprawling fins of canvas, and docking cables swinging.

    "Let''s look at the big picture. We need to complete the mass storage solution. We have a prototype based around Adeios, and a system for state-locking it for reads. Writing data to it digitally is easy, but our processing speed is not fast enough to carefully handle it for read operations within the substance¡¯s coolant at a similar speed because it requires the same pattern of input to prompt an output." Joss listed. Digital storage was extremely expensive, with only a few functional storage solutions between military and research entities. A high density storage solution would be prohibitively expensive to the standard citizen.

    "I can coax operating speeds higher. We just haven''t tested them" said Quinn, "But we have to match at least baseline digital speeds, or it will never be taken seriously. Standard physical tape solutions for storage are slow and expensive, so if we can¡¯t even reach those speeds¡­"

    They sat for a moment considering. Quinn pulled out his sketches from his bag, looking again at his blueprints for the read mechanism. The read method was slower than the write due to mechanical limitations. Then a thought hit him. Why was he trying to force the read function to operate faster? Why would he not take advantage of the nature of the substance to instantly change state? He would simply set up parallel operations, with several inputs and outputs writing and reading.

    "We have to go wide Joss!" he said. "Parallel processing, multiple channels of data flow."

    "I can''t believe we didn''t think of that!" Joss exclaimed. "The Bjornovans were talking about how important that was to their advancement. We didn''t think to implement that with the Adeios since as a storage solution it was barely considered analog let alone digital."

    It was on the return trip from a diplomatic visit tagging along with the Zais to the nearby Bjornovian Confederacy that Quinn and Joss had gotten their first taste of starshuttles and space travel. The incredible digital infrastructure of the Bjornovans around the exchange of information had led to the earliest inspiration for their brainstorming.

    "Wait! Why would we limit ourselves to parallel processing?" asked Quinn. "Joss, we have to help Reid with the chemical analysis. Imagine if we could take this even wider!"

    "What do you mean?" asked Joss, looking confused.

    "Imagine dozens of storage machines." said Quinn.

    "Well yeah, that''s the plan once we figure out the chemical makeup, we can move to mass production." said Joss.

    "No no no, look!" blurted Quinn.

    Quinn took out his voxcom, pantomiming it into contact with the prototype blueprint and nodding emphatically. He mouthed the words ¡°Wireless Network¡± at Joss. They looked at each other eyes wide.

    They both lost it, grabbing notebooks and pens furiously writing, as if desperate to put idea to blueprint before it disappeared. They had both entered a flow state, having brief exchanges as they worked. Quinn tooled and formed his sketch into the match of the picture he rotated and examined in his mind. Joss dredged into his deepest memories of their time with the Zais and the many principles he had learned by studying Liora¡¯s work and the Bjornovian technology as he began to write pseudocode for the processing program. He had dug into the programming of his voxcom after he¡¯d finally been able to purchase one after its release, just as he had done with other machines throughout his life. The voxcom network was a more standardized form of utilizing frequency resonance to broadcast messages through repeaters throughout the cities. While the handheld devices had been an incredible boost for direct communications, messages were limited in length, and the vocal functions only worked in ideal conditions within direct line of sight. An improvement for the attached storage was already in public demand, but this new concept would be a paradigm shift for Rheidenas if realized.

    Liora Dfemonn, once a shuttle scientist, had journeyed from the distant starnation of The Nekadian Territories to undergo training by Sakelko Space Engineering on Nahau. Whilst there she met a visiting junior pilot and mechanic Lance Zai. She soon caught his love for exploration and learning, following him to his homeworld of Rheidella. She quickly established herself as an authority on foreign technologies and systems for adaptation of international standards with the government, and they were both offered positions at RRA not long after their wedding. Liora had begrudgingly shown Joss their collection of artifacts from their many adventures. Despite this fact, she had had very little to offer about the Adeios. Lance evidently had possessed the substance before the two had met, as it was labeled as having been obtained during his early years attending the academy.

    "We need to ask Liora again. Even if she really doesn''t have any more information for us on the origin of the Adeios, maybe there is something we haven''t caught onto yet. I¡¯m sure Reid would take anything else and run with it, even just a rough location could be enough for us to find more of it."

    He began to pack his satchel as Quinn considered.

    "Is she going to be in the mood to dig deeper into Lance''s stuff? It seems like she''s more likely to... yell." said Quinn.

    Joss shook his head. "I don''t know. All we can do is ask."

    Quinn nodded at that, and began to pack his own bag for the day''s end. The sky had begun to fill with the rippling colors of plasma in the magnetosphere. The phenomena had become more frequent over the last few years, and the public had grown to enjoy the spectacle in the evenings. He had noticed a recent opening on the RRA announcement board which had listed a research position dedicated to studying the anomaly.

    As they watched the dancing sunset, Quinn couldn''t help but notice something new ¨C heavy machinery with claws and cranes clearing out an old industrial zone across the river. Most day workers would be ending their shifts and starting their dinners, but a clearing at the site was being filled with materials, and flashes of welding and fusing cast quick shadows against walls.

    Joss followed his gaze. "Hey, look at that." he said, squinting against the sun''s glare.

    Quinn leaned forward, intrigued. "What do you think it is?"

    Rumors had been circulating about a new spaceport being built in the city, but no one knew for sure if it was true or just speculation. The current port serviced aquatic and galactic vessels. Some recent diplomatic entourages from other systems scorned the "barbaric" lack of facilities for vacuum-only starshuttles. The word was that the Crown had evidently been embarrassed.

    Joss shrugged. "I don''t know, man. But I heard whispers that this might be part of some bigger plan to expand our connection with the other planets."

    Quinn''s eyes widened as he took in the implications. Space travel was expensive on Rheidenas, and mostly limited to the military and business with some diplomatic and political exceptions. It was also a very limited pipeline for a normal person, as starshuttles rated for distance travel and many passengers were relatively new. A new and larger public spaceport could mean a whole new level of access and opportunities for trade and exploration beyond the military and merchants...

    "I''m going to head home, it''s been a long day. See you tomorrow." said Joss.

    Quinn waved as Joss headed back towards his home in the Trees District. He spent a few more moments watching the activity across the river. It really had been a long day he realized, without a moment to rest. He was exhausted. The morning had started with his typical errand run, before getting himself put together and heading to his Emerging Materials course, followed by study with Joss for their shared Entropic Statistics class.

    At midday, the school had an assembly to announce the details and format for the graduation exams. The anticipation had been tangible as the auditorium filled with the prospective graduates. Each had hopes of achieving their License of Expertise, and moving on into further study or professional life. They had been instructed on how to prepare for what would be an exceptionally well rounded test of their skill sets. Students would be allowed to form their own groups of five and register before the month was up, but all ungrouped students would be assigned groups. Not all were guaranteed success, and would need to finish the tests with enough points to graduate. They had all been preparing for this opportunity, the nearly mythical Trial Night.

    He pulled out his voxcom, drafting and sending a quick message.

    S | ID 591032 | 188:07:20:21:14:08 | PD: QW

    R | ID 515540 | PD: MC

    # Hi Mellissa, got time tomorrow morning? You won''t believe what we heard today.

    Quinn crossed his fingers, and hoped Mellissa could get to the bottom of this leak for them.

 1.02 - Allies

    Quinn woke up in a cold sweat, the hazy images beginning to fade quickly from memory. He wobbled out of bed and to his workbench, flipping open his heavy drafting notebook, and furiously scribbled the remnant of the dream.

    He had gotten home early after his walk back from the park, thoughts of the brainstorming with Joss dominating his attention. Mellissa had confirmed a meeting scheduled early before classes started the next day. Throughout family dinner his mind had swirled with potential designs and calculations based on his intuition. He practically sleepwalked from the same workbench and collapsed into bed for the night. His dreamscape had been full of the subconscious manipulation of metallic instruments, willing his ideas to work in the pliable state of physics available only in his sleeping mind. At a certain point he had fallen into a nightmare, an intense experience from which he had ultimately been woken, and now found himself returned to mundane methods of drafting and experimentation.

    A beam of morning light stilled his writing as he turned to squint at the clock. He was two minutes late to catch his daily coach reservation to the academy. In a panic he scrambled into his uniform and shoved what he needed into his pack, only stopping briefly downstairs to grab a loaf of bread and wave to his family on his way out the door. He ate as he ran through the streets, nearly tripping on the rails that were running through nearly every square of the public roads. He barely noticed the verdigris of the shingled roofs flying by, the earthy blue-green of oxidized copper. They were common for the older districts, shading the dark wood and stone buildings from rain and snow, reflecting sunlight across the city in a familiar and comforting greenish glow.

    Racing around another corner he had to slow himself on a lamppost to avoid colliding with a motorized railcart exiting the automatic door of a forge building. The city was alive for the day, and the shipments had begun. Quinn estimated the run through the shipping yard, over the fence, and over the river to the nearest coach station. He was in good shape physically, toughened by years of work with steel and precision engineering. He was not, however, an endurance runner, and he was already running late. His eyes snapped back to the railcart preparing to descend into the shipping tunnels deep underground, did another quick mental estimate and he took a deep breath.

    He caught up with the cart as it was slowly being shifted in place onto the descent platform by the machinery, and he brushed the dust from the label. His heart jumped at his apparent luck.

    "Teller Precision, LoEC," he thought, "Only a three minute walk from RRA!"

    He climbed the footboard and took a firm grip on the edge as he pulled himself into the railcart. He reached out toward the platform¡¯s manual descent lever and gave it a heave. The whole mechanism shuddered on its rails as the platform locks released, and the cart quickly plunged below. He braced himself within the cart, watching as the access lights along the shaft replaced the sunlight and blue sky above. The controlled descent was meant for freight, and Quinn quickly remembered his times working in the belly of the locomotives as Lance¡¯s apprentice, as the force of arrival within the tunnel below bruised him.

    He ducked and dodged light fixtures as he peeked over the hopper''s edge. The heavy fall had locked the railcart¡¯s speed controls into a very high speed, the cart and rider flying down the tunnel. Soon he would come to the routing railyard, and he would need to verify the cart''s destination. Careening around a bend, he looked again, finally seeing the fast approaching railyard. Dust and debris had begun to swirl within his cart, and he pulled out his welding mask to protect his eyes and breathe safely. Just as the cart broke out into the dimly lit chamber Quinn popped up from within, scanning the cavern teeming with trains and rail carts through the heat sensory vision of the mask, picking up glowing signatures from lanterns and bodies among the sea of hot steel.

    His cart was heading for an exit that was bound for the correct district he saw, but another train with several hundred cars was headed for the same trailing turnout as his. His metal steed whined as he pulled on the gearing lever, buzzing behind before coming up alongside the accelerating train. He began to panic as the arm wouldn''t budge, it was stuck fast. Workers along the edge of the yard yelled and pointed at him as he passed, the strange figure in the welding mask racing the locomotive.

    As they neared the intersection, the train engineer sounded the horn in warning, Quinn glancing over, white-knuckling the edge of the cart. He squinted through his welding mask as the turnout switch loomed ahead. He saw it could shift his cart¡¯s path onto the other track, its rusty linkage glinting like a promise of salvation or a threat of failure. His heart pounded in time with the clatter of wheels on rails as he watched the shrinking distance, his mind racing through every possible scenario. Then, in one fluid motion, he kicked off from the cart''s frame and vaulted onto the railing beside the tracks. His boots scraped against the slick metal as he reached for the switch, straining against the rushing wind from the train. His fingers found purchase on the lever ¨C and he wrenched it into place. The rail groaned in protest as his cart veered into the individual delivery zone, narrowly avoiding merging into the freight train''s massive wheels. Quinn stumbled back to his cart, breathless, watching the endless chain of cars blur past like a steel serpent rushing into the dark tunnel ahead. He allowed himself a small, grim smile beneath the mask, he wasn''t dead.

    He recovered his bag from where it had left his shoulders mid jump, straps freshly pressed by the cart''s wheels. The Teller Precision cart had collided with the rail bumpers and stopped not far past where he had bailed out, he released the automatic braking system, and realigned the cart to follow the route of the disappearing train. His heart was still pounding minutes later as he piloted the cart up and out into the sunshine once again across the river. With a pat goodbye to the machine, he hopped from railway to railway, carts humming along on either side. He jumped to scale the fence, steadying himself on support beams along the top before dropping down from the final beam into a flower bed below. He straightened and brushed himself off as best he could, putting his mask back into his pack as he began his quick walk to the gates of the RRA now mere yards away.

    The main campus of the RRA consisted of several dozen acres of gated gardens and superstructures. The main building at its heart was a structure of stone, brick, and polished wood a dozen stories tall with a large and ornate dome of copper-framed panes of glass fixed atop it. The reinforced beams reflected through the glass during the day casting the atrium inside as well as the outside gardens in a cool cyan light. While the exposed portion of the structure was grand in composition, the actual scale of the academy far eclipsed it, encompassing the hundreds of excavated chambers spreading out far below it underground. What once started as a grand royal library had slowly collected vocational specialists, and as a result the Academy had branched out, or rather, down. Quinn rushed through the garden paths and quiet halls then down the massive staircase, each step painted in a gradient color of the rainbow, which defined the underground wing of the College of Sentient Sciences. Knocking once in warning, he opened an office door.

    "Well if it isn''t the ominous message man," said the woman behind the desk, "Why are you out of breath?"

    Quinn trudged through the door of the office and slung his pack into a stuffed chair crammed between two towering bookcases. He sunk into the seat, running a hand through his hair.

    "Rough morning" he wheezed, "had to catch a rail cart to make it."

    "You did not!" she demanded.

    "Afraid so. I''m fine, don''t worry Mell."

    Quinn grabbed his pack, the wheel print over the straps as evidence. He pulled out his copy of yesterday¡¯s Trendsetter, still folded open to the article, and handed it to her.

    "You see this yet?" he asked.

    "Of course," she said, "I wrote it."

    Quinn felt the pang of betrayal again.

    "Well, as per usual, as a written piece it is excellent." he said.

    "Thank you. I assume saying that I wouldn''t believe what you heard has something to do with this? Let''s hear it." she inquired, cocking an eyebrow and pulling out her writing pad, always the studious notetaker.

    Mellissa always had an air of delicately balanced precision and chaos. Her messy bun held back tides of brown hair with the support of a large pin. The central ancient wooden desk dominated the office but was slowly drowning beneath papers and photographs. Her bookshelves were overflowing with collected academic insights from years of research and reporting ripe for consumption. The office was a goldmine of information, assuming you had the patience to search the piles of documents sandwiched between Mellissa¡¯s many photo albums. Apart from being an excellent journalist, she also doubled as a well known photographer within the industry. She had a legendary attention to detail, but was likely to someday overdose on it.

    "I received a concerning message from Maven Zai yesterday." Quinn said.

    Mellissa leaned back in her chair, brow furrowed as she studied him with a piercing gaze.

    "A ''concerning message'' from Liora," she began, her voice tinged with curiosity and worry alike. "What was it about? Why would that make you look like you just ran through a gauntlet?"

    Quinn was silent for a long moment, rehearsing what he would finally say.

    "The content of the article, it''s Lance''s life work. The Zais entrusted us with its completion, and now it''s out there," he said, jerking a thumb toward the outside window.

    Mellissa¡¯s face slowly drained of color After a moment of shock she scrambled for the paper on her desk. She furiously scanned the lines, eyes flicking between the featured diagram images and her own pithy summary of the source notes. Quickly she realized that many of the diagrams and notes she herself had reviewed for publication were in a hand she recognized now that she knew what to look for.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "&@$ &%@%!!"

    After a few minutes she had calmed down a bit, the papers settling down after their rapid unscheduled flight around the room. The two stared across the desk at each other sharing the same pained look.

    "I''ll get to the bottom of this, so help me Sun," Mellissa swore, "I should have known that an unmarked envelope was too good to be true. No strings attached ¡®blah blah blah¡¯ never look a gift horse in the mouth? I''m gonna set them on fire! Then¡­"

    Quinn patiently listened to her rant. Mellissa had been an exchange student from the distant Tezzcheton as part of a program brokered by the representatives of RRA a decade ago. Lance had personally shuttled her family, as well as many others, to Rheidella during a conflict on her homeworld. Quinn was comforted by her shared righteous fury.

    Mellissa had vowed in no uncertain terms that she would dig up the source of the information from her article. Quinn thanked her, collected his things, and headed out to find Lily.

    <hr>

    Quinn slid into the booth across the table from Lillian. The dining hall was at its most active during this time of the day, and he had had to search for her for a while before finally finding her near the back wall. Lily had expected him to be his quiet flustered self, but she was pleasantly surprised to see his look of determination. She pictured their first meeting during the RRA entry exams, Quinn''s characteristic short platinum blonde cutting a sharp contrast against the grime speckling his sleeves. Joss'' swarthy self had been there too, and she remembered thinking he was tall and thoughtful, his brown ponytail standing out amongst the young men, offering pens to those grateful exam takers begging them. She marveled at how much they had changed while managing to stay themselves.

    "Hi Q!" Lillian said

    "Lily! What a conflicting morning I''ve had, please tell me your day has been going better than mine!" Quinn replied, cracking the tin on his juice and popping in a straw.

    "Conflicting huh," she said, arching an eyebrow, "What''s up?"

    When Quinn described his unique route to school hours before, Lillian''s eyes were wide as saucers. She scolded him lightheartedly, and he only conceded, yet again, that it hadn''t been a safe thing to do. He quietly told her about his conversation with Mellissa, giving what she thought to be great insight into the Astator''s personality. She cataloged that mentally for later evaluation. Ultimately Lillian found her realization again confirmed: many defied initial impression, and not every book could have been judged by its cover.

    "Well, let me know if there''s anything I can do to help," she offered, "If you can get me a list of suspects, I can make a profile for each."

    Lillian''s mentor was Inspector Annabelle Brighte, a renowned investigator known for her sharp mind and keen eye. Over the last few years she had inspired Lillian with stories of her own adventurous exploits as an inspector. With her striking ginger hair styled against the distinctive black and maroon uniform of the Royal Kaiem, she had already earned the respect and admiration of her colleagues and adversaries alike. As a result, Lillian had modeled her educational focus on Annabelle''s expertise, emphasizing skills in her own research and behavioral modeling that would compliment those of her cousin, the inspector. This had landed her some singularly amazing opportunities under the elite research professors in the Sentient Sciences department, leading to her current internship opportunity with the rising philanthropic organization, Unity Innovations.

    "Thanks Lily," said Quinn, nodding, "If you find anything, please let us know, would you? I¡¯m sure Astator Cairn would appreciate more to work with."

    "Of course. Speaking of the Printer''s Guild..." she said, smiling sweetly with a meaningful look.

    Quinn laughed and stood to help her up.

    "Alright, let''s go find Carios." he said.

    Quinn and Lillian chatted as they walked toward the doors of the dining hall, tossing trash into compactor bins and cans into recycling units. The hall was an already beloved new addition to the academy which had replaced the stained and grimy-floored cafeteria that had served students for a century prior. It had served double duty, the cafeteria frequently being used as an impromptu chemistry lab, some unfortunate experiments gone wrong and tainting the space for weeks afterwards.. The shining new hall had been stripped of any exposed wood and other absorptive materials, now replaced with buffed steel tables and booths. The renovations were still in progress, heating pipes running through the floors and booths still exposed, and electrical lighting still bare. Quinn appreciated seeing the guts of these new additions, but he stopped when they began to pass the pneumatic cleaning machines at the exit, depositing his dish and utensils into their labeled slots. Lillian looked on in boredom as Quinn studied the mechanism securing each implement before arranging it with similar items, plunging them into a soap bath below, and blasting them with jets of water as they were dropped down out of sight. He noticed the pneumatics and electronic controls sealed to each, all stark white compared to the expected combination of red, green, and white typical of electronics.

    "Who is wiring something using only white insulation?" he asked nobody in particular.

    "What?" asked Lillian, "The workers are from Unity Innovations, if that''s what you are asking?"

    "Never heard of them." Quinn said, scanning the machine again visually.

    "Well, you''re gonna be hearing about them a lot now, because they''re the ones who offered me the internship" said Lillian, reaching into her bag and pulling out a letter.

    Quinn turned and took the letter from Lily, opening it and scanning through the first few lines of the document.

    "Unity Innovations

    Secretary of Social Development

    Margaret Kain

    To Whom It May Concern:

    This is an expression of interest in partnership with the active student, Ms. Lillian Xavier, through an educational sponsorship program for the purpose of learning and furtherance of social research.

    Dear Ms. Xavier,

    In the course of our existing partnership with the Rheidenas Royal Academy of Engineering & Sciences under the sponsorship program, we have found your current research to be in alignment with our crusade for the betterment of the Rheidenasi through programs encouraging innovation and technological improvement of lifestyle. Our research into reliance on tools seen as dangerous to the population has fostered a growing need for social researchers such as yourself.

    Terms:

    1) The Sponsored entity will publish 1 research study as requested by the Sponsor.

    2) The Sponsored entity will receive on completion of Term 1, the financial support in the form of a credit line towards additional studies, to be negotiated after completion of Term 1.

    ..."

    The letter went on to outline dates and times for events to attend, and some suggestions for topics which Unity may be interested in research published on. Quinn''s eyes had begun to glaze, but he shook himself from it and looked back at Lily.

    "Wow, this seems like quite an opportunity, like you said! So that''s why you need to talk to Carios." he said.

    "Exactly! Luckily I already had a study from last year which I cleaned up a bit, and I am hoping to fast-track that into Trendsetter. It''s a study I actually did with Haru on the effects of mercury poisoning and the social impact and effect on survivors." said Lillian, energized by Quinn''s encouragement. She popped her dishes into the cleaning machine, and they slipped through the swinging doors, out into the atrium.

    As they walked through the atrium, Quinn and Lillian couldn''t help but notice the bustling atmosphere. They blended with students already gathered around announcement boards, studying notices and announcements, searching for their names. Lillian noticed an announcement by Unity for an upcoming event, and she pointed it out to Quinn.

    ¡°Look, they¡¯re holding a showcase,¡± she said excitedly, ¡°That must be what they were talking about in the sponsorship details!¡±

    ¡°Seems like it. How have I never heard of them before?¡± he replied, as they began to edge out of the crowd and into the hall.

    Students studied on benches along the walls, and scurried alone or in groups down the halls at either end of the atrium. In actuality, both hallways led to one another as they curved to form a large circular path, rooms and staircases all along for access to classrooms, laboratories, and various Colleges'' compounds.

    They wound their way around the groups of students collecting from within the classrooms. Most courses had standardized time slots, perfected after decades of scheduling hell for students taking classes across multiple colleges. Now, at the end of the fifth block of classes for the day many students headed to the cafeteria for a late luncheon. The groups were composed primarily of local Humans with reddish brown hair or Nekadians with warmer skin tones of their early developed scales contrasting with an otherwise human appearance. Other mammalian species could be observed in ones or twos and mixed in with larger groups, tall leporide ears of the Tuzzops wrapped in silk and beads or short leonide ears of the Mimixi pierced and unpierced poking up above others, alongside the massive ursine Bjornovans and the extremely rare petrous Rhakinis on their sets of spider-like legs streaming in and out of the entrance. The larger entrances to key areas were located on the same wall as the entrance to the dining hall, positioned across from the boards, and included the main entrance to the large amphitheater known as Bellman¡¯s Hall. The hall had been renamed in honor of the previous RRA Chancellor, Vander Bellman, under whose leadership the Academy''s Colleges had been unified.

    Their destination was a maze of pipes and large printing presses where Carios, head of the Printer''s Guild, held court. Quinn knew from experience that this underground lair was hidden behind a seemingly ordinary door in one of the academy''s many corridors. In his first year at the RRA, Lance had petitioned to allow for the Printer¡¯s Guild to have a dedicated space within the academy, and Quinn had assisted the crews in the reassembly of the large machines in the space deep below. Next to a closet, the simple wooden door opened to reveal a spiral staircase, hardly out of place to any RRA student. He led Lillian, ducking under and around the greasy clusters of pipes, moving swiftly through the twisting passages, pointing out various landmarks along the way.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of navigating narrow corridors and dodging apprentices rushing about with ink-stained hands and frantic expressions, they arrived at the entrance to the Printer¡¯s Guild. The steel doors loomed ahead, their surface marred with years of scratches and smudged fingerprints, standing in stark contrast to the aged stone walls around them. Faint but distinct sounds leaked through the thick metal snaps of gears locking into place, the steady ping of type being set, and the rhythmic whump of heavy presses at work. The air carried a faint tang of ink and hot metal, promising both industry and precision.

    Quinn hesitated for the briefest moment, taking in the sensory overload before reaching for the handle. The door groaned softly on its hinges as he pushed it open, releasing a gust of warm, paper-scented air. The dimly lit chamber stretched far into the shadows, its cavernous interior packed with rows upon rows of printing presses, their hulking forms illuminated by flickering oil lamps and the occasional spark of metal against metal. Apprentices scurried between the machines, some carefully arranging fresh sheets of parchment while others adjusted the massive gears with practiced hands. A man stood at the far end of the room, surrounded by a team of busy technicians and weary printers, each one busily working on the latest piece.

    Quinn''s eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar array of printing presses, from ancient wooden contraptions to modern machines with flashing indicator lights and whirring gears. He spotted a few new faces among the printers, including some underclassmen he had met during his own research endeavors.

    ¡°Carios!¡± yelled Quinn, ¡°I¡¯ve got someone I want you to meet!¡±

 1.03 - Forging Ahead

    The big man turned, blonde-bearded face dawning with a broad smile. He was wearing a once-white tunic covered with years of ink smudges and grease stains.

    ¡°If it isn¡¯t a Whitlocke, good to see you boy!¡± said Carios, rushing over and embracing Quinn after a rough handshake. He turned, suddenly noticing Lillian, and sheepishly reached for a rag to clean his smeared palms before extending a hand to her.

    ¡°Carios Mytar, Printer¡¯s Guild, as you may have guessed by our ornery pets all about us down here in the dungeon.¡± he said.

    As Quinn took a better look around, he recognized several specific devices among the machines in view. Years ago, before his apprenticeships had taken him away from his home forge and his father¡¯s workshop, Carios had been a fixture of the Whitlocke¡¯s smithy, encouraging Quinn¡¯s tinkering from a young age.

    ¡°A pleasure Mister Mytar,¡± said Lillian, shaking the offered hand and smiling in response.

    ¡°No no, we¡¯re all on first name policy here in the printer¡¯s room. The queen herself would go by Akkie here by hell or high water I say!¡± Carios said with a belly laugh. Several of the printers exchanged looks of amusement and whispers in the background. Quinn noticed a few unfriendly faces, and he wondered if they had intruded on something.

    ¡°Carios,¡± started Quinn, ¡°I was talking to Astator Cairn a bit ago-¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Carios interrupted, ¡°Miss Mellissa stopped by not an hour ago, she¡¯s got us digging through e¡¯rything we can get our hands on to find the materials she dropped off with her piece from yesterday.¡± She was fiery mad, had to keep her away from the oil for the presses or we¡¯d all burn alive. Still huntin¡¯, but the whole mess is missin¡¯, hope you¡¯re not here to pick it up for her. Darndest thing too, I coulda sworn we had it filed last night.¡± He paced back to where he had been sorting and flipping through a stack of ink soaked papers within transparent sleeves.

    ¡°No I''m not here for that, though I may be sent back for it later. I have a favor to ask. Lillian is the one that wanted to meet you, she has some research she¡¯s interested in having published¡± Quinn replied.

    After a few minutes of discussion, Lillian had explained her sponsorship and Carios quickly grasped the situation. Several of the printers had then gathered to suggest formatting options. Within minutes Quinn stood to one side as the huddle around Carios and Lillian worked with them fitting the piece in the next day¡¯s layout.

    ¡°She¡¯s lucky.¡± said a young man, dark skin, hair, and eyes. He was relaxed against a bench, printer¡¯s apron full of setting tools and a clipboard in one hand. ¡°Not everyone has what it takes to get published.¡±

    Carios gave a muffled laugh within the group before throwing his hands up and walking over to lean and watch with Quinn.

    ¡°If she can hold her own in that lot,¡± the printer said, gesturing to the group, ¡°She¡¯s gotta be quite the firecracker. They¡¯ll get her piece in, safe and sound.¡±

    Quinn nodded to him gratefully

    Carios rummaged around in a jingly belt pocket before fishing out a binding-ring full of gears of different sizes and tossing them to Quinn.

    ¡°See those fit back to standard specs and we¡¯ll call it even, as usual.¡± he said, as Quinn looked over each gear.

    ¡°Not a problem Mytar.¡± replied Quinn, picking out an item from his pack and bringing it into the light. ¡°Dad sends his regards.¡±

    The room briefly shone with the red reflection off the chiseled crystal in Quinn¡¯s grasp. Several sets of eyes flicked around in search of the source as Carios quickly palmed the crystal, slipping it up a sleeve with a nod.

    Quinn shouldered his way through the group and up to Lily as she badgered the current pilot of the press setting. They had determined that her article would be featured on the second page of the next issue. He skimmed the content surrounding it with a glance, picking out the letters in reverse from their stamps and sorting them mentally into words and phrases. To his surprise he quickly picked up on the theme for the front page, mentally reading it to himself.

    ¡°SPACEPORT OVERHAUL PROJECT BY DIPLOMAT¡±

    He made a mental note to pick up tomorrow¡¯s edition of Trendsetter for another reason beyond Lily¡¯s article.

    ¡°Lily,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna head to the lab.¡±

    Lillian turned and flashed him a bright smile and gave him a quick hug. He stood stiffly for a moment before nodding back at her as she pulled away.

    ¡°Thanks Q!¡± she said, before turning back to the press.

    He left, sprinting through the metal maze and up the flights of stairs full tilt, but he couldn¡¯t wipe the big grin off his face.

    <hr>

    ¡°Great news,¡± said Quinn, shutting the steel door of Lab V7 behind him and turning his gear-keystone in the lock, ¡°We¡¯ve got Lillian Xavier for our Trial Night team.¡±

    Joss, Reid, and Haru all looked up their stations. The College of Engineering private laboratories were granted to Mavens, Astators, and sanctioned student work groups on request. Each of the rooms were outfitted with standard workbenches mounted on rails running in parallel across the room, allowing the benches to be separated or combined at will. Standalone mechanical stations and test equipment lined the walls along with racks of nearly every tool and instrument they might need. In one corner there was a massive steam engine, its control panel adorned with labeled brass buttons, which powered the lab''s operations through connections to its output gears and driveshafts throughout the room. Several tables of beakers and glassware were filled with glowing, bubbling liquids of impossible colors. The auxiliary walls had a forge, metalworking tools, and a common cooling system using a large refrigeration unit and tank for all the mechanical elements requiring coolant within the laboratory.

    ¡°Wait, how did you get Lillian?¡± asked Haru, pulling her goggles off and resting them on her forehead, ¡°I thought she was going directly into apprenticeship as an Astator.¡±

    ¡°Who cares. As long as we have someone to get us through the language puzzles and mind games, I¡¯m psyched.¡± said Reid. He turned down the burner under the glowing contents of the beaker he was studying and switched on the nearby overhead lamps, casting light over his workbench at the center of the room.

    ¡°We asked her yesterday, she was at the park at Haven. Quinn, you got her all set then?¡± asked Joss.

    ¡°Yeah, strings pulled and all that. More importantly, since Joss probably hasn¡¯t mentioned it yet, we also did some brainstorming yesterday, and we¡¯ve got an idea.¡± said Quinn, setting his bag on his workbench facing the others, and pulling out his blueprint folder.

    Quinn and Joss explained the broad strokes to Haru and Reid, who were equal parts skeptical and overjoyed at the idea of parallel processing for the project¡¯s expansion. They moved about the lab, sketching quick diagrams for concepts on blackboards and Joss writing pseudocode functions to illustrate the programming for the new functions, answering questions and writing down the twin¡¯s amendments to the planned development route.

    An hour later, Reid was sitting cross-legged on a worktable staring at the others opposite him. Haru and Quinn tweaked small details on the sketches and adjusted variables in formulas as Reid and Joss called them out. Reid had already been testing a new variation of their existing coolant and was supervising its addition alongside the new chassis elements. The quartet was back in the swing of development, and each felt the satisfaction of having a new direction and motivation to forge forward.

    ¡°So, what are we going to do about the leak?¡± asked Haru, turning from the draft board, ¡°We need to be on the same page, especially if we are bringing someone else into the team.¡±

    ¡°Maven Zai requested that Joss and I come explain and bring a plan.¡± said Quinn, scratching the back of his head, ¡°So far, I asked a few other people to look into the leak. We just need to be in agreement on the new project direction, and then we¡¯ll present that to Maven Zai.¡±

    Joss nodded. ¡°I think she wants to hear our plan for dealing with this setback. We thought the best course is to present an accelerated concept for the project to get further ahead of the leak rather than detailing our investigation into how it happened. Regardless, we do still need to figure out how it happened so we can avoid it happening again in the future.¡±

    ¡°To clarify then,¡± said Reid, ¡°We¡¯re affecting multi-stream processing, and continuing research into Adeios synthesis or acquisition. Aside from that, we¡¯re looking for leads on the leaks.¡±

    They all exchanged glances, eventually nodding in agreement.

    ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t need Lily,¡± said Quinn with a grin, ¡°Reid can be the full time documentarian based on that summary alone.¡±

    Reid took a mock stage bow, prompting Haru¡¯s snickering.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re a better chemist than you are a scribe, otherwise we¡¯re screwed Re-Re,¡± said Haru, ¡°That reminds me! We ran into a couple of Reid¡¯s chemistry buddies, and they said they saw a couple students near our lab last week! It was Derik, uh,¡± Haru pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, ¡°Derik Vonn, and Lysa Krennik! Reid tried to track them down but we ran out of time.¡±

    ¡°Any details on them?¡± asked Joss.

    ¡°Derik is a Sentient Sciences student, that¡¯s all they knew. Lysa though, get this, is the apprentice to Director Ceadrix Dorrin, directly under the Chancellor¡± exclaimed Reid. ¡°Here, I compiled the notes I have so far. I¡¯ll keep looking after I finish today¡¯s chemical experiments.¡±

    Quinn accepted the notes and began to skim the basic information written in Reid¡¯s clean handwriting. ¡°I¡¯ll look into them too. We don¡¯t know what the motivation was behind the leak. Let¡¯s quadruple-check that we lock up everything every time we leave. Also, Reid, please stop leaving chocolate wrappers on the worktables.¡±

    Reid looked confused until Quinn held up a crumpled piece of gold foil.

    Haru bopped Reid on the head playfully. ¡°You can¡¯t leave trash everywhere. This isn¡¯t your bedroom little brother.¡±

    ¡°You beat me into the world by seventeen seconds! Will I never live this down?¡± he grumbled.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Quinn laughed and pulled out his voxcom. He drafted and sent a quick message.

    S | ID 591032 | 188:07:21:15:12:08 | PD: QW

    R | ID 515540 | PD: MC

    #  Suspects: Derik Vonn, Lysa Krennik.

    <hr>

    The heavy door rang as it closed behind them, a door he had thrown open many times. Today though, he couldn''t bring himself to be so casual.

    Their destination was the dedicated academic research section of the College of Engineering, specifically Liora Zai''s office, a place where many had come seeking guidance and wisdom. For Quinn and Joss, it held an added layer of significance: they were about to face the wrath of their mentor.

    As they entered the hallway, the soft hum and clicks of displays and murmuring synthetic voices enveloped them. The Zai family crest adorned the door at the end of the hall ¨C a symbol of innovation and progress that seemed almost mocking in light of Quinn''s purpose here today. He waited a minute or so, shifting uncomfortably next to the eerily calm Joss, who gave him a reassuring nod before opening the door, revealing a room filled with an assortment of peculiar artifacts and shelves stacked high with books on various subjects.

    Maven Liora Zai herself sat behind her desk, looking up as they entered, her piercing brown eyes fixing intently on them. Her straight salt and pepper hair was held to each side by spectacles, and her expression remained as stoic as ever, a mask that hid the turmoil brewing beneath.

    "Whitlocke," she said, her voice hard but controlled. "I see you''ve received my message."

    Quinn nodded, his eyes locked onto hers. Joss took up a position beside him, ready to offer support if needed.

    Liora leaned forward, her hands clasped together in a steeple. "Tell me, what do you propose as your plan for moving forward?"

    The weight of expectation hung heavy in the air, and Quinn knew that his response would determine not only their future but also Liora''s trust in them. The ticking of the clockwork around the room filled the silence as he took a deep breath before speaking.

    "We''ve been working on refining the prototype as you know," he began, "and we believe it has further potential to revolutionize communication and dissemination of information than Lance had postulated."

    Liora raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

    Quinn launched into a detailed explanation of the new design, Joss chiming in with additional insights regarding the programming and codecs whenever necessary. Liora listened intently, her expression unreadable.

    As they finished, Quinn felt the air grow thick once more with anticipation. Liora''s gaze never wavered from theirs as she spoke in an even tone. "Good job, Quinn, Joss. I''m not sure how Trendsetter got ahold of Lance''s work, but I see you have put sufficient thought into moving forward with the project. He would be proud that you have clearly not let this setback hold you down."

    Quinn and Joss relaxed a bit in relief.

    "We''ve got some friends looking into the leak situation, but we''re going to get back to the lab this afternoon and start the first round of development." said Quinn.

    "Thank you Maven," said Joss, "We never expected this, with how careful we have been with the prototype."

    Liora smiled at the young men. Her years of leadership had made obvious their discomfort at being interrogated by someone as close to them as she was, or Lance had been. She knew they had been raised to be respectful to figures who had earned it. In return, she felt it was her duty to continue to encourage and guide them as required.

    "I don''t blame you for the leak. Nobody is perfect. Just follow the protocols we worked on, and keep an eye on your rival students," she said, smirking, "I too had my share of people looking over my shoulder during an important exam."

    "Thank you Maven," said Quinn, "If you don''t mind, we would like to study Lance''s lab journals again. Reid hit a wall with the Adeios attribute research weeks ago, and we''re hoping to find something we may have missed."

    Liora was still for a short moment, then slowly nodding. "Alright, I have actually been digitizing the contents of all his work recently. I only returned yesterday from the lab in Rocheforge.¡± She turned to the terminal on the second desk beside her, clearing items off the keyboard and shuffling the papers into a neat pile beside it. Quinn noticed the Trendsetter article on the top of the pile. Liora considered the article again. ¡°That article in Trendsetter was not the welcome home I was expecting."

    As she began to organize Lance''s notes, Liora couldn''t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over her. She remembered when she first started working with Lance, how he would spend hours pouring over ancient texts and artifacts in search of new insights. His passion was infectious, and it had rubbed off on her. He would be proud of what the boys had done with his work, and the progress toward their shared dream.

    She glanced up to see Quinn and Joss huddled around the machine display, their faces lit by its glow. She stood nearby, eyes flicking between the display and the conversation as they poured over Lance''s notes. Liora smiled, feeling a sense of pride swell within her. She had always known that these young men were talented and driven, but it was moments like this that reminded her just how much potential lay hidden beneath. Despite the disappointment at losing some of the invention¡¯s secrets before the device was ready for public exhibition, she knew Lance would have encouraged them, and she had chosen to do so in his place now.

    An hour later, the men had left, heading back to the lab. Liora had walked Joss through her scanning machine program as Quinn ogled its structure. Eventually, the display showed the original writing with the interpreted text rendered below it for easy study, a feature Joss appreciated. They had stayed briefly to brainstorm some of their concepts and to copy a small section of Lance''s notes before thanking Liora again, and making their way back down the halls to the lab.

    She pulled a rough bound journal from her desk drawer, gently leafing through the pages. She barely saw the words through her memories of his face.

    <hr>

    Lillian slipped into the dimly lit room, where flickering fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow over the cluttered space. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and worn-out machinery. As she entered, her eyes adjusted to the lack of natural light, revealing a sea of screens and consoles that seemed to stretch on forever. In the center of the room, a robed figure sat perched on a stool, its hood casting an ominous shadow over its face.

    The figure pressed a large button with finality before hopping off the stool and turning to face Lily from within the cowl. The sound of clicking and whirring machinery filled the air as Lily grinned, bringing out a freshly inked page of paper from behind her back.

    ¡°I¡¯m published.¡± she said.

    The robed figure''s cowl dropped away, revealing Nova''s bright smile and sparkling eyes as she leapt across the room with an infectious enthusiasm. Her jet-black ponytail bounced behind her like a whip as she hurtled towards Lily, nearly tackling her in a warm hug. Her pale face wore a smile as the two giggling women danced happily in a circle.

    ¡°Oh Lily! This is amazing! Congratulations! How-Why now?¡± said the robed woman.

    ¡°Nova you were right about the boys. Quinn and Joss got me in. I¡¯m so glad Anthony introduced us, please thank him for me?¡± said Lily, dragging Nova to the nearby desk to admire her news piece.

    ¡°What? Just because I married him now you think I get to see him more than you?¡± said Nova, failing a deadpan look at her friend and reaching up to flick on a spotlight above them.

    Lily approached Nova''s desk, where a pyramid of stacked displays towered above the surface. Programs and messages scrolled across the screens in a mesmerizing dance, their blinking status codes casting a hypnotic rhythm through the room. A plush Mimixi, the cat-like sentient species, wore an eyepatch and sat against a picture frame. Stacks of canned beverages lined one side of the desk, their labels reflecting a colorful array of drinks.

    ¡°You know full well the Ventures students barely interact with the other Colleges. Just tell him thanks again for me.¡± replied Lily, rolling her eyes.

    ¡°Whenever he¡¯s back from buzzing around off into the sunset somewhere I¡¯ll tell him.¡± said Nova, smiling.

    Lily placed the document on Nova''s desk, its creased edges and worn corners telling a tale of countless revisions and edits.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the only good news though, I got an offer from Unity Innovations." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Nova''s eyes lit up like fireworks. "What? That''s amazing! What did they say?"

    Lillian pulled out the letter Quinn had read earlier, its pages rustling as she unfolded it. "They want to partner with me through an educational sponsorship program. It seems my project exploring social behavior models has caught their attention."

    Nova leaned in, her voice taking on a calculative tone. "And what does this mean for you?"

    Lily''s eyes sparkled like diamonds in the dimly lit room. "It means I get to work with them on a project that could have real-world impact. They''re offering me a chance to be part of something big, Nova."

    Nova nodded enthusiastically, her ponytail bouncing behind her. "That sounds incredible! This has been a long time coming. Have you told Annabelle yet?"

    Lily blinked. "Not yet, she was out on a case when I went to her office. But there''s more. They want me to attend their seminar at the Academy next week. I''m not sure what to expect, but Quinn thinks it might be an opportunity to learn something new about Unity as a whole. He hadn¡¯t heard of them."

    Nova''s expression turned thoughtful, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I don''t know much about Unity Innovations either. I¡¯ve come across their traffic in my research recently, seems to be a charity or something similar. What is their relationship to the Academy?"

    "Maven Elkath said they have been a recent addition as a sponsor. The proxy I presented the piece to this afternoon said they are a non-profit trying to help the disadvantaged through research. This could be my chance to make a real difference!"

    Nova reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Lily''s arm. "We''ll support you every step of the way, Lily. Just stay aware and make sure the agreement still works in your favor down the line."

    <hr>

    Quinn trudged through the door for the second day in a row, his feet heavy with exhaustion. As he entered the home forge, Quinn''s father, Abner Whitlocke, looked up from his workbench.

    "Son. How was your day?"

    The blacksmith''s warm smile put Quinn at ease, but it didn''t erase the fatigue etched on his face. Abner had long, thick, and somewhat unkempt sandy hair above a full, bushy beard. He wore his rough, brown coat over a red tunic as he continued to lumber around sweeping the floors. Quinn took a deep breath and decided his dad was just who he wanted to talk to.

    "I gave Carios that red crystal you asked me to give him."

    Abner nodded thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling with understanding. "He''s been after that stone far longer than I. My chance to study it is long past; he can have it now."

    "Hey, Dad?" Quinn said, curiosity getting the better of him.

    "Yes, son?"

    "He already knew you were going to give it to him? It seemed like you wanted him to have some keepsake or something small he''d forgotten and you were returning to him," Quinn asked, brows furrowed.

    "That is true; he has long known I had the stone. But, I doubt he thought I''d ever pass it on. It is a keepsake, of a sort. He was there when I found it, back in the early days."

    His father had shared stories of his early days as a miner in Rocheforge, working alongside his crew. Over the years, he had woven together a vivid image of a driven man building a business around resource acquisition for brokers. His father¡¯s success had led to a thriving family enterprise with a loyal workforce under his leadership.

    Quinn''s thoughts turned to the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. While the meeting with Liora had gone better than he¡¯d expected, the adrenaline from earlier in the day had worn off. He was worried about messing things up when people were counting on him ¨C Joss, Lily, and the others who had come to rely on him.

    His father sensed the unease. "What is it son? You flew through like Amgor''s Wind this morning, and you were stewing in something last night."

    Quinn explained everything. It had been a long day of meetings and work sessions, but he knew every moment was crucial to getting back on track. He''d met with Mellissa in her office and she had clearly taken the scent and run with it. After his chat with Lily he had managed to get her plugged in with Carios, who he was sure would take care of her. Haru and Reid had tracked down some other leads ¨C this Derik and Lysa seeming like prime suspects. The events from the day swirled as he tried to put the full picture together with the events of the previous day and the Trendsetter article. As Quinn spoke, Abner listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and understanding.

    When Quinn finished, the blacksmith nodded thoughtfully. "You''re carrying a heavy load, son. It''s not just about you; it''s about all those people counting on you to get things right."

    Quinn sighed heavily, feeling the weight of responsibility settle deeper onto his shoulders.

    Abner placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Not every torch needs to be carried by the same runner. Sometimes we need to entrust the flame to someone else to carry it forward."

 1.04 - Two Masters

    The local marketplace hummed with early morning energy. A cacophony of merchants called out their wares, crowds of customers were haggling over prices, and the occasional distant exhaust hiss of rattling railcarts full of products wound through the narrow lanes between the market stalls. Quinn navigated the crowd with ease, weaving past bustling vendors until he reached a familiar stall decked with hanging baskets full of trinkets and the vexing chirps and whistles emitted by many small avians and mammals within their tiny cages, swinging in the light breeze.

    The scent of ripe citrus and spiced berries mingled in the air with the tang of metal. Behind the stall stood a tall, lean Mimixi merchant in a loose-fitted swirl of fabric loops. His sleek gray and white speckled fur shimmered in the sunlight, tufted and ring-pierced ears twitching as he spotted Quinn approaching. His tail flicked lazily behind him, a sign of mild amusement.

    ¡°Back again, Whitlocke?¡± the Mimixi purred, his sharp-toothed grin playful. ¡°Your father was here not but an hour ago. You¡¯re both creatures of habit, you know that?¡±

    Quinn smirked. ¡°I know what I like, Dzhason. And as they say, like father, like son.¡±

    The Mimixi chuckled, motioning toward an array of colorful fruits. ¡°Let me take a wild guess. The wandermelon, the crysmiberries. You engineers and your predictable tastes. Oh and so you know, they won¡¯t be back in season until after the Hahtin Festival so get them while they¡¯re in stock. These are my last shipment until then.¡±

    While the market was always full of traders and merchants, the goods available there fluctuated with the seasons across the trading planets. Many new planets had been opened up as resource hubs in recent decades by the Zanaio Cartography Corps, a polarizing entity on the galactic stage. The now-titanic organization was founded by Denasius the Crystalmancay, the colossal gem-like species with a predisposition for collection. She had escaped from a crime syndicate and dedicated herself to exploring the galaxy with her new-found freedom. By gathering other disgruntled members and servants of the syndicate she slowly formed the ZCC, which sought to explore new worlds, document their discoveries, and plant their flag wherever they went. Many starnations, following their lead and relying on their exploration, established trade relationships with other ZCC affiliated and friendly worlds made accessible by the efforts of the once-criminals.

    Quinn rolled his eyes but reached for the exact fruits Dzhason had predicted¡ªa wandermelon, its spined rind glowing faintly in the shade of the stall, and a handful of crysmiberries, shimmering like tiny constellations. Their electric tang always gave him the jolt he needed in the mornings.

    A brief haggling session ensued, the Mimixi¡¯s purr growing deeper as he secured a slightly better deal than Quinn had intended. He deposited them onto the counter, and with a final playful flick of his tail, Dzhason handed Quinn his purchase, neatly wrapped in waxed paper stamped with a winking cat motif.

    ¡°Pleasure as always.¡± he said, winking a sharp-pupilled eye.

    Quinn just shook his head, pocketing the box of berries and tossing the wrapped melon into his bag before marching quickly toward the coach station at the edge of the market.

    The brass-trimmed coach hissed as it settled onto its wheels, gears engaging with a satisfying clunk. Quinn climbed aboard, finding an open seat among students, scholars, and city workers all making their way toward the academic district across the river. The seats were cushioned but worn, the scent of old parchment, oil, and grease a now-permanent part of every thread.

    He unwrapped and peeled open the wandermelon, its juice dripping as he took a bite. The tart flavor jolted his senses awake. He adjusted his satchel and scanned the cabin, his eyes briefly settling on a tall human man with brown hair, dressed in a white double-breasted coat with a high collar, a waistcoat, and an ascot, seated a few rows ahead and facing him.

    Quinn recognized the man, Nicholas Slate, though they had never spoken. A quiet observer in classes, always watching and learning, staying late in the academy¡¯s labs. His work had also been at the top of the list of new Unity sponsored projects announced for the upcoming presentation event at the RRA. Quinn narrowed his eyes slightly, having an inexplicable sense of foreboding.

    The coach lurched forward into motion, steam venting in rhythmic bursts as the city began to blur past the windows. With a deep breath, Quinn straightened in his seat as the windows began to lightly rattle. He was looking forward to another day of good work.

    <hr>

    The workshop greeted him with its familiar embrace of oily tools, metal shavings crunching underfoot, and the lingering heat from the forge as he strode to his workstation. Yesterday¡¯s cleanup had been thoughtfully delegated to today¡¯s Quinn. He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves before fastening a thick leather apron over his tunic. His workspace, crowded with tools yet methodical, lay before him¡ªbrass and steel components, rods, gears, and half-assembled mechanisms neatly arranged within reach. He rolled his eyes as he picked up a gold foil wrapped coin of chocolate from his workspace, popping the contents into his mouth and tossing the waste into the forge.

    ¡°Someday Reid will stop leaving his things everywhere.¡±

    He retrieved the schematics from the safe, unrolling the blueprints on his workbench and running a calloused hand over the intricately sketched workings. He double-checked his measurements, adjusting a few dimensions before committing to the first cuts. The cutting torch hissed to life, its blue flame licking at the steel as he carved rods into precise lengths. Sparks rained down as he adjusted pieces with small cuts, the rhythmic grind and screech of metal filling the workshop.

    A steel plate glowed cherry-red in the forge¡¯s embers. Quinn gripped it with tongs, transferring it to the anvil. His hammer rose and fell in steady, measured strikes, shaping the metal into the support frame¡¯s structure. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the space, interspersed with the occasional hiss of steam from a pressure valve. This was not the first iteration and he knew it would probably not be the last, but for now it was the best.

    Joss arrived just as Quinn was filing down welds on a newly replaced strut and beginning a new pinion, his satchel thudding onto a nearby workbench. He rubbed at his temples, shaking off the last remnants of sleep.

    ¡°How¡¯s it coming along?¡± Joss asked, scanning the partially assembled frame.

    Quinn wiped a streak of oil off a newly installed access arm and gestured to the structure. ¡°Frame¡¯s done. Cross-supports are reinforced for the higher rpm and vibration dampening. I tested the load tolerance, should hold, even under high-velocity oscillations.¡±

    Joss nodded approvingly, running his fingers over the polished steel. ¡°Looks solid. Any issues?¡±

    Quinn shrugged. ¡°Had to recut one of the beams. Alignment was off by a hundredth of a degree. But it¡¯s fixed now.¡±

    Joss smirked. ¡°One hundredth? You¡¯re slipping, Whitlocke.¡±

    Quinn huffed, tossing a rag at him. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Your turn now, let''s see that program running.¡±

    With a chuckle, Joss moved to his workstation, where stacks of parchment, brass punch cards, and a mechanical computation console awaited him. He flicked a switch on the console. The steam-driven computation engine whirred to life, gears ticking into motion as Joss punched the first sequence onto a brass card. The machine processed, spitting out a thin strip of translated code.

    Joss grabbed the input cables and secured them in the sockets of the new frame just as Quinn slotted the retrieved Adeios capsule within. Flipping open his notes, Joss murmured calculations under his breath, his fingers tracing logic pathways on the schematic as he mirrored the movements into the panel interface. He squinted at the returned content in confusion.

    Quinn, watching from the workbench, raised an eyebrow. ¡°First attempt working?¡±

    Joss frowned, scanning the output. ¡°Not yet. Secondary read path isn¡¯t recognizing priority shifts.¡±

    Quinn leaned in. ¡°Might be a timing issue in the mechanical relay.¡±

    The structure was a meticulously engineered open-sided metal cube, reinforced with a network of circular rings interconnected by radial beams that extended outward to the cube¡¯s perimeter, forming a pattern reminiscent of a solar flare or intricate web. Within this geometric framework, an array of precision-controlled access arms were strategically positioned to transmit and receive signals based on programmed motor controls over carefully strapped and coiled cables. These arms interfaced with the central cylindrical core, which housed the Adeios sample. The dark, void-like substance was suspended within a luminescent green liquid, their newest iteration of coolant.

    Joss nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s pop it out and check.¡±

    The lab door swung open before they could begin, revealing Haru and Reid. Haru held a folded parchment, her brow furrowed. Reid jokingly saluted as they walked in.

    ¡°Please tell me you two have good news,¡± Joss said.

    Haru exhaled. ¡°Depends on how you define ¡®good.¡¯ We found out more about how the project details leaked.¡±

    Quinn straightened. ¡°And?¡±

    Reid folded his arms. ¡°Not a break-in. It was mostly overheard. Some other students pieced together fragments of a conversation. They found some notes in the trash.¡±

    Joss groaned. ¡°Great. So we really do need to be more careful.¡±

    Haru nodded. ¡°But for now, let¡¯s focus. We still have work to do.¡±

    Quinn exhaled and turned back to the workbench. ¡°Alright. Full benchmark tests. Let¡¯s push this thing to its limit.¡±

    Reid cracked his knuckles. ¡°Looks really good Quinn, time to see if it holds?¡±

    With a unified nod, the team set to work, the rhythmic hum of machinery and the hiss of steam filling the lab as their project took another step toward completion.

    An hour later, Lillian stood in the entrance of Lab V7. She had been working on her new research project, reaching out to poverty support organizations and interviewing citizens. The discussion with her Unity contact had been terse, suggesting that her efforts would be better served continuing her existing research into mercury poisoning of local industries. The project¡¯s research had found evidence that Unity sponsored investigators had been involved in stopping a catastrophic pollution event, but she had been stifled as she had attempted to directly interview witnesses. She had welcomed a break from the frustration for the visit to the lab.

    Today was the first full day since her acceptance of the invitation that the team had all been scheduled to be in the lab together, and they had agreed to meet for Lillian¡¯s official welcome to the group. She scanned the room, a symphony of controlled chaos, several half-built machines humming with power, wires snaking across the floor, and blueprints stuck haphazardly to every available surface. The faint hiss of steam from a pressure valve sounded from somewhere in the back. This was a place of invention, of unfiltered ambition, and for the first time in a long while, a feeling like she belonged. Her breath caught as she surveyed the lab before her.

    Joss, Quinn, and Haru greeted her first. Joss, always the energetic one, clapped her on the back like they were old friends, while Quinn simply offered a nod and a small smile. Reid stood a bit further back, his expression more reserved but welcoming. Lillian could see the skepticism in his eyes, considering her as another variable in their tightly wound machine. She stepped up, extending her hand to him. "I¡¯m ready to work."

    Reid¡¯s expression softened and he shook Lillian¡¯s hand. ¡°Pleased to have you aboard Lillian! We have high hopes for Trial Night.¡±

    ¡°Glad to have your skills here.¡± said Haru, shaking her hand next. ¡°We are all hoping for a good result in the Trial Night exams and I already know you¡¯re going to make a big impact here. We can discuss strategy for the exams later, however.¡±

    Lillian¡¯s eyes were wide as the team took turns showing her the major components of the prototypes, explaining features and projected use. Immediately, she understood that the project existed beyond the horizon of Trial Night. She asked occasional questions for the sake of clarification, mentally calculating the incredible potential for a device with such massive storage capacity. She imagined the books, articles, research documentation, and historical manuscripts which could now be digitally preserved and distributed with such high density. She could simply overcome how little they knew about the exams by bringing along what could function as a personal research library!

    ¡°This¡­ is all amazing. How did you all come up with this? Is it working?¡± Lily asked, stammering.

    ¡°Mostly, we¡¯re still in the chemical identification stages for Adeios. I actually would really appreciate your assistance on creating the charts for that!¡± said Reid, whirling and grabbing a notebook littered with loose papers.

    ¡°The applications for Trial Night alone are staggering,¡± Lillian said, her excitement growing as she turned to the others. ¡°Think about what I can do for us. While the other teams struggle with fragmented notes and unreliable memories, we could have the entire archive of our research at our fingertips! Strategies, rumors, and anything else we could find useful. If that is all accessible in real time, it¡¯s not just limited to pre-loaded information storage. This isn¡¯t just an advantage, this is a paradigm shift!¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Quinn smiled, leaning against a cluttered workbench. "Well, looks like we¡¯re on the same page with you thinking THAT far ahead. We¡¯re officially a team!"

    A wave of excitement rippled through the group, though it was quickly tempered by the reality ahead. Trial Night loomed only months away, the singular event that would determine their success or failure at RRA. They had no time to waste.

    Lillian quickly established her role within the team, pulling out her leather-bound notebook and systematically drafting a comprehensive plan to document their progress. Her structured approach was met with immediate approval, as it became clear that she was not merely taking notes but implementing a strategic framework. Deadlines, milestones, and contingency plans took shape as she asked precise questions and meticulously recorded key details. Her method brought a level of organization and foresight that had been missing, transforming their efforts into a more disciplined and efficient endeavor.

    <hr>

    The hum of conversation filled the Academy¡¯s Dining Hall, the usual evening rush tapering off as the night wore on. Most students had already cleared out, but Lillian, Quinn, Joss, Haru, and Reid remained, their trays mostly empty save for a few half-eaten sandwiches and cooling cups of tea. The burning adrenaline of productivity from earlier had faded, leaving only exhaustion in its place alongside the satisfaction of a productive day, but none of them had called it a night just yet.

    Lillian stirred the dregs of her tea absentmindedly. ¡°So¡­ Trial Night. I¡¯m flattered that you wanted me as your fifth for the team.¡± She sighed, leaning her chin on her palm. ¡°But honestly I don¡¯t have much information on the trials myself. Based on what I¡¯ve put together, we have mostly hearsay and rumors with very few firsthand accounts. What do we actually know?¡±

    Quinn exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms. ¡°Not many facts. The Zais told us that well-rounded students rise to the top.¡±

    Joss, slouched in his chair, smirked. ¡°Typical. Every year, graduates love to hype it up like it¡¯s some grueling gauntlet of mind games and near-death experiences.¡± He lifted a hand lazily. ¡°Could be half of that. Could be none of it. Should be fun honestly.¡±

    Reid tapped his fingers firmly against the table. ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, it¡¯s a mix of physical and mental challenges, designed to push participants to their limits.¡± He glanced at Haru. ¡°You scrounged some notes from past contenders, those are at home, right?¡±

    She nodded, adjusting her glasses. ¡°It¡¯s never exactly the same, but there are patterns like I said earlier. Expect basic combat trials, problem-solving exercises, environmental hazards, and at least one puzzle-based segment that requires working as a team.¡±

    Lillian arched a brow. ¡°And by combat trials, you mean¡­?¡±

    Quinn smirked. ¡°Anything from one-on-one duels to group combat, depends on how cruel they¡¯re feeling this year. Maybe it¡¯s capture the flag again, or rugby. Something the Ventures kids are likely to be basically frothing at the mouth for.¡±

    Lillian groaned. ¡°Great. I can run, and Annabelle has taught me basic self defense, but other than that I¡¯m probably useless for any fighting.¡±

    Joss chuckled. ¡°On the bright side, at least you won¡¯t be going in blind. I actually came across some notes from Lance written during his trial prep. Evidently it coincided with his discovery of Adeios. Anyway, he mentioned fending off the Mavens tracking his team. Apparently one of his team members was a Biological Science major and had brought along a falcon for some reason. The whole thing reads as kind of a wild and chaotic jumble of encounters with Mavens, fending off Astators, and annoyingly pedantic puzzle proctors.¡±

    Reid leaned forward, serious now. ¡°We should start training accordingly. Stamina training, reaction speed drills, code-breaking practice.¡± He shot a look at Quinn. ¡°You up for helping with combat training?¡±

    Quinn shrugged, stretching. ¡°As long as I get to knock some sense into people. It¡¯s been a few years since the Ventures boxing tournament.¡±

    Lillian rolled her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s aim for ¡®training,¡¯ not ¡®murder.¡¯¡±

    Haru, who had been quietly scanning her notes, suddenly spoke up. ¡°We should also consider our competitors.¡±

    Joss groaned dramatically. ¡°Ugh, yes. The wonderful world of overly ambitious try-hards.¡±

    Reid ignored him. ¡°We already know Unity-sponsored contenders are in. They¡¯ll have state-of-the-art gear, refined strategies, and corporate backing.¡±

    Lillian put down her tea. ¡°Not only that, I was told Unity was going to record their sponsored participants.¡±

    Quinn scoffed. ¡°Which means they¡¯ll probably be underestimating everyone else, seems like everyone being recorded by a camera suddenly thinks they¡¯re the main character.¡±

    Haru continued, ¡°There are also the independent challengers, former prodigies and scholarship students with something to prove. And then¡­¡± She hesitated.

    Lillian frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    Haru sighed. ¡°Then there¡¯s Lysa and Derik.¡±

    A silence fell over the table.

    Joss made a face. ¡°Ugh. Them.¡±

    Quinn¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°We don¡¯t know much about them, but it seems like at the very least they don¡¯t play fair.¡±

    She set down her cup, looking at each of them. ¡°Then we¡¯d better make sure we¡¯re ready for whatever they throw at us.¡±

    ¡°For now, let¡¯s continue to gather information and see what we can learn.¡± said Quinn, looking around, ¡°Besides that, I guess train according to your strengths and look to help others with their weaknesses.¡±

    Reid smirked and gestured at Quinn¡¯s snacks. ¡°And your weakness is apparently chocolate coin candy and random berries, Mr Whitlocke.¡±

    Quinn furrowed his brows and gestured protectively at his stash of candy and fruit. ¡°Hey, people keep leaving candy around the lab. It¡¯s not my fault that I have to clean it up. Also, crysmiberries are incredible, you¡¯re all just jealous of my good taste.¡±

    <hr>

    Lillian had taken the summons with grace and curiosity. Now, she had neither.

    For two hours, she had been planted in a stiff-backed chair beneath the glaring clinical lights of the stark white Unity training hall, listening amongst others in a dozen rows of seats as the speaker at the podium droned on without pause. The woman¡¯s voice, a flat, practiced monotone, listed Unity¡¯s triumphs in exhaustive detail, seemingly never stopping for breath.

    ¡°¡­agents of Unity worked with researchers to locate polluting sites near the rivers. When our operatives secured evidence, we published the findings, forcing these reckless manufacturers into the light, exposing their blatant disregard for public safety¡­¡±

    Lillian fought the urge to shift in her chair. The way they framed it sounded noble. But she had spent enough time sifting through independent reports to know the full picture wasn¡¯t that simple. Unity¡¯s ¡°expos¨¦s¡± weren¡¯t just about rooting out corruption¡ªthey were about controlling the narrative, placing themselves as the sole force for justice, and painting local industries as villains, whether they deserved it or not.

    She wasn¡¯t the only one unimpressed.

    From a few rows ahead, she caught the voice of an Astator she had studied under speaking low but distinctly.

    ¡°¡­Can¡¯t believe they¡¯re still pushing this angle. Even the reports I¡¯ve seen in the small papers show half those claims didn¡¯t hold up under scrutiny.¡±

    Another voice, unfamiliar but clipped, responded. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Perception trumps truth. The right message at the right time, and people stop asking questions.¡±

    Lillian pretended not to hear, but she was listening.

    Her fingers tapped a slow, unconscious rhythm against her knee as she silently repeated their words. If screened attendees had reservations, then Unity¡¯s messaging wasn¡¯t airtight.

    A figure slid into the seat beside her. Lysa Krennik.

    Lillian tensed. A coincidence? Not a chance.

    Lysa¡¯s expression was cool, her gaze sweeping over Lillian before settling on the stage again. When she spoke, her voice was smooth and practiced, with a measured warmth that didn¡¯t reach her eyes.

    ¡°You should be paying closer attention, Lillian.¡±

    Lillian tilted her head, feigning indifference. ¡°There¡¯s not much I haven¡¯t already heard repeated a dozen times already, seems like I¡¯ve gotten the point already, loud and clear.¡±

    Lysa gave a light chuckle. ¡°I suppose you have.¡± She paused for a short moment to straighten her skirt and cross her hands in her lap. ¡°You know, opportunity is rarely extended twice.¡±

    Lillian knew better than to take the bait. ¡°I don¡¯t recall asking you for one.¡±

    Lysa sighed, as if mildly disappointed. ¡°We¡¯re capable. Smart. I imagine that¡¯s why Unity took an interest in us in the first place. Why fight it?¡±

    Lillian exhaled slowly, keeping her expression neutral. ¡°You make it sound like I should be grateful.¡±

    Lysa smiled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Lillian didn¡¯t answer.

    As the speaker at the podium continued, Lillian heard another conversation nearby, quieter.

    ¡°¡­Her father¡¯s company is still in negotiations with Unity. If she keeps pushing back, they might reconsider their contract entirely.¡±

    ¡°¡­That one? Her work is promising, but she¡¯s got the wrong friends. She''ll never last here long-term if she doesn¡¯t start prioritizing the connections that matter.¡±

    ¡°¡­A shame. If she just aligned herself properly, she wouldn¡¯t have to worry.¡±

    Lillian¡¯s stomach tightened.

    The casual tearing down of students based on family ties and corporate affiliations sent a chill through her. Unity¡¯s involvement wasn¡¯t just about ¡°uplifting¡± talent¡ª

    it was about control. Submission. And those who didn¡¯t fit into their vision? They were expendable.

    Lysa watched her reaction carefully.

    Lillian straightened her shoulders, forcing her pulse to steady. She wouldn¡¯t give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

    Instead, she turned to Lysa and offered a small, polite smile.

    ¡°I appreciate the advice,¡± she said evenly. ¡°But I¡¯ll make my own choices. It takes everyone¡¯s perspective for true Unity, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    For a brief moment, something flickered behind Lysa¡¯s eyes. Amusement? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.

    Then, she simply nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    Lillian faced forward again, her focus sharper than before.

    She had always known Unity¡¯s influence was suffocating. But today, they had confirmed something she had only suspected before.

    <hr>

    Lillian folded her arms tightly across her chest, her back straight, her expression carefully schooled into neutrality. Across from her, Margaret Kain sat behind her polished desk, her neatly clasped hands resting atop a thick stack of reports.

    The office was pristine, the Unity insignia discreetly worked into the decor, a subtle reminder of exactly who held the reins here. The sleek and modern clock ticking away on a shelf and the buzz of the same lights found throughout all of their facilities set a sterile tone of brutal effectiveness and efficiency at any cost.

    Margaret tilted her head slightly, watching Lillian with an air of cool patience. ¡°This is an opportunity, Lillian.¡± Her voice was smooth, persuasive. ¡°A chance to secure your future.¡±

    Lillian didn¡¯t shift. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware my future was in jeopardy.¡±

    Margaret gave a small, knowing smile. ¡°Everyone¡¯s future depends on the choices they make. And right now, the Royal Academy is at a crossroads.¡±

    Lillian bit back her retort. She knew exactly what Margaret was getting at.

    The RRA, the standard of academic research in the region, was hesitant about fully endorsing Unity¡¯s involvement in handling the mercury contamination crisis.

    They had already allowed Unity to intervene in certain sectors and to take contracts for updating systems, but pulling their support for longstanding manufacturers and local companies? That was a different matter entirely.

    Margaret continued, her voice smooth as glass. ¡°Your petition for leadership at RRA could help steer them in the right direction.¡±

    Lillian exhaled slowly. There it was. A polite request. Disguised coercion. Margaret didn¡¯t need to say the rest outright. Lillian was still officially backed by Unity. If she wanted to maintain that social backing, if she wanted to present at the seminar, if she wanted to keep her research sponsorship, then she would have to be an advocate for Unity.

    Lillian chose her words carefully. ¡°You want me to push for them to withdraw support from the local manufacturers.¡±

    Margaret¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift. ¡°I want you to advocate for progress. The academy has always sought cleaner materials. Unity is merely providing a pathway to that future. Sign the petition for Unity¡¯s supervision over the showcase presentations.¡±

    Lillian clenched her jaw. She had spent time gathering independent reports on the crisis. Yes, the mercury levels were undeniable. But the full closure of local operations, without any protections or transition plans for workers, would leave entire regions without economic stability. And Unity knew it.

    Lillian inhaled, holding her stance. ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡±

    Margaret leaned back in her chair, unruffled. ¡°Then I suppose the RRA will progress without you.¡± A pause. ¡°And so will Unity.¡±

    Lillian¡¯s pulse thrummed in her ears. She wasn¡¯t na?ve enough to think this was just about a single petition. This was a test. If she pushed back, refusing to align herself with Unity¡¯s interests, they would make sure she felt the consequences.

    Margaret studied her for a moment longer, then gave a small, satisfied nod.

    ¡°You¡¯re a bright woman, Lillian. I trust you¡¯ll make the right choice.¡±