Book 28: The Eden Conference

July 12, 2022 - 11:28am

???, Halayeb, Halayeb Triangle

“The Hardy Boys failed.” Daisy crossed her arms as she sat back in a cheap plastic chair, a stark contrast to her extravagant black dress. Her and Lucia overlooked the glimmering Red Sea from atop a short building in the town of Halayeb. A large umbrella made from plants shielded them from the sun, while a gentle breeze circulated around them to protect the women from the heat.

“And you’re sure they won’t talk?”

“They cut out their own tongues. The only liability is the leader, and I have him sorted.”

“It’s impressive that you can tell from this distance. You’re getting stronger.”

“I can only monitor and manipulate the smaller wraiths. I’m not where I need to be yet. If the insect had been successful, I wouldn’t have been able to control the boy until we got closer.”

“But I’m not worried. I have backups that are already in place to strike. And more importantly, he’s progressed with his transformation. I’m pleased.”

“And when is that happening?”

“You’re raring to go so soon? After last time?”

“I only wanted to check something last time. Now I intend to execute.”

“Execute?” Daisy chuckled, “The number of wraiths it took to sew you three back together was astounding. Tobias is still coughing up my silkworms.”

“Oh hush. My technique can touch her. If I get serious, I could cut her down.”

Daisy hesitated before replying.

“Nothing she couldn’t heal from. That’s why we’re waiting.”

“But waiting for what, Iosef to finish his little zoo collection?”

“You shouldn’t talk, aren’t you after a little collection of your own?”

“That’s different. I’m going to destroy everything that man created, when I have them all.”

“When I catch that little shit and his sword…” The breeze whipped into a flurry before Lucia calmed down.

“Touché. What we’re waiting for is information from Sweet Pea. It’s likely that Iosef’s body is in the Crypt, so it’s as simple as placing one of Omen’s tattoos on its wall. That part isn’t a problem. What we need is a log of every registered maestro’s technique.”

“Really? Why?”

“Shiva’s Steel. The little bits that Isio used that time were taken by the Institute. He’s the only maestro who’s managed to break off a branch of the Devil’s Spine.”

“I remember now. It was all sealed away under the Cain Family Estate. So the plan is to get a maestro who can break seals?”

“Exactly. We get the Steel, and use it to remove Tamara’s technique. Of course this won’t be until much later.”

Lucia groaned.

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Daisy sighed.

“Just wait. Let them all get comfortable, let Iosef collect his toys. When everything aligns, it’ll be over in two swift strikes.”

“Fine. But the sooner we get his Blood and stop hanging out with those creeps, the happier I’ll be.”

“Agreed. Especially those children. Damned brats don’t even differentiate between resurrection and revival, techniques and abilities.”

“Again with the revival thing…does it even matter if the two words are used interchangeably?”

“Of course it does. Revival has to be done within a very short window after death, before the soul detaches from the body. Such techniques are rare, but not as elusive as resurrection, which has no time limit and only needs part of the body.”

“Sure, but considering how uncommon it is, you can see why people don’t care for the distinction.”

“I can,” Daisy said, “but I am a scientist. Everything I do is about distinction.”

“Hm.You’re more like a grumpy witch,” Lucia teased.

“I am not a witch!”

“You’re so convinced that atma is science. Face it, we’re using soul magic, and that makes you a witch!”

“No we’re not, and no it doesn’t. Magic is random, and inexplicable. Atma can be observed, theorized on, and experimented with. It’s science.”

Lucia giggled.

“You’re adorable when you’re all atma this, atma that. It makes me feel like we could really pull off this plan of yours.”

Daisy uncrossed her arms, blushing.

“I appreciate the confidence. But without patient zero, it won’t be easy to create a world of half-blooms.”

“I can hardly wait.”

~

July 12, 2022 - 1:15pm

???, Eden City, New Eden

Henry was blindfolded and strapped to a chair in a room shrouded by darkness. The blood and bones of his team’s carcasses were strewn across the place, stinking of death and excrement. Still, he sat, unwavering. Tamara Cain stood over him, unstained, unfazed, and unimpressed.

She wore a sleeveless white bodysuit that covered her neck and shoulders, and matched it with wide, light beige cargo pants. Her hair had been dyed platinum blonde, a beautiful contrast against her dark skin.

“I’m getting bored of this,” she said, “I think I might kill you.” She took off the golden tiara-visor she kept on her person at all times. Behind them were brown eyes, illuminated by the majesty of an iridescent gold star pattern on her irises. The same eyes that Soji saw in his dream. In the dark, they were every bit as horrifying.

“You just don’t like Brits,” Doc said. Thanks to her technique, he too, floated above the carnage.

“I don’t, so this better work,” she replied.

“Contract.” Henry repeated for the umpteenth time. Since capture, that was the only word he said.

“Is that a condition of this asshole’s Contract or is he being annoying?”

“Yes, yes, contract.” She nodded for Doc to proceed. His atma spun into the shape of two needles, and carefully injected themselves into his abdomen, just half an inch deep. They slowly started to unknit the knots of atma formed by this supposed Contract.

Their captive grunted and squirmed with discomfort.

“Easy, now. This could get a lot worse for you.” Doc hushed. His technique, even to Tamara, was vague. It was a strange form of direct atma manipulation that took time, focus, and immense energy. Finally, the final knot was undone, albeit temporarily, as the atma fought to curl back into shape.

“Quickly, T.”

Tamara removed Henry’s blindfold and adjusted his face to look up at her.

The man whistled.

“Yer alright,” his slimy gaze slid up and down her body.

“I know. But you won’t be. How’d you bypass Eden’s barrier?

“So that’s the Agya,” the man ignored her question, and instead found fascination in Tamara’s golden eyes. She’d hoped his atma, his heartbeat, or even his countenance might grant her more insight. All she had to go on was Soji’s insistence on the so-called Daisy’s plants being spotted, and hints of familiar atma residuals.

“Is it true you cunts can see everything? Atma, sound, and even atoms? Tell me, what does it look like if I tell ye to fuck off?”

Doc and Tamara shared a look.

“Something like this.”

She pushed the man backwards in his chair as another barrier closed around him. He was once again thrown into an endless fall within the prison.

“He should reach terminal velocity in 3…2…1…”

Tamara rotated the barrier so that he was no longer falling down, but sideways. Before Henry touched its edge, she released the technique and let him shoot into the wall. His body cracked and splattered on impact. “That was annoying. At least now we get to do this the fun way.” She turned away from the mess, and towards the exit.

“Where to?” She asked, as she and Doc waltzed through the wall separating the two rooms.

“Apparently, these Hardy Boys were last seen in London, England.” Miguel said. He’d been poring over the Institute’s database of known maestros while Tamara worked.

“Then that's where we're going. You and Money are in charge while we’re gone.”

“Shouldn’t we be the ones going? Europe is where all the freelance maestros gather. Everyone’s gonna lay low when they hear Tamara Cain’s in town.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll gouge them out from wherever they choose to hide. This group that’s after Soji is getting bold, and that will get in the way of our plans.”

“I wouldn’t put it past this Yasu Rose,” Money said.

“No,” Miguel countered, “she wouldn’t work with Daisy. But looking at the Elders is definitely the right direction. These guys are known by the Institute, but aren’t registered with them. It was either collusion, or incompetence that got them past the barrier.”

“Yep. That’s what Doc and I are gonna find out. Wherever that thread leads us is a point off our list.”

“This could also be a trap.”

“I know. But whoever fired this first shot will eventually find out their attempt failed. They won’t make another move so soon.”

“There’s no guarantee of that. Not to mention, Soji has many enemies. Even if whoever did this will be careful going forward, it doesn’t guarantee the others will.”

“Then we better make noise in Europe, show people what happens if they overstep.”

“What if we need to reach you? Are you gonna be hard to get a hold of again?” Money asked.

“Depends on the weather. Just take care of the kids. Everything will be alright” Tamara and Doc blinked out of sight.

~

July 12, 2022 - 1:18pm

Talia Estate, Eden City, New Eden

The Talia Estate was a mosaic of buildings, carved from marble, adorned with red sandstone and bejeweled by precious stones. The entire property spanned several acres, a mix of palaces, ‘modest’ homes, and colorful gardens.

Yasu Rose, in her usual fashion, strolled through the family’s compound, as she took in their wealth, a dragon’s hoard much grander than what the Roses and the Cains had combined. Silently, a tall, Indian man with light brown skin took three long strides to catch up to the woman. His greasy dark hair was cut short, slicked back. He was clean shaven with noticeable stubble, and his conniving grin and wicked emerald eyes glinted with mischief.

“Andel Talia. I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Have you grown tired of preening on the world stage already?”

“Miss Rose. I recall you being one of the Elders who voted in favor of my position as CEO of the Institute. I’d hardly call handling our real business affairs preening. It hasn’t been up to a month since those incidents in Nigeria. There are plenty of hands to kiss, and egos to massage to make it blow over,” he replied with his posh British accent. He enunciated his words like someone who was eager to remind those around him that he was a learned man.

The old woman said nothing. She had nothing for this weasel of a man. He’d barely grazed thirty, yet had the effrontery to try and steer the Institute into a ‘fresh’ direction. The difference between his version of that, and Hedeon’s, was his insistence on sharing atma to the world. To commodify it, and sell it. He was the worst parts of her granddaughter and the young Cain.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea why I’m here,” she said.

“A breach, somehow undetected, right? I’m not unaware of the happenings of Eden City.”

“Oh? And what is your intended contribution to solving this issue? Will you finally give your grandfather rest and shoulder the burden of maintaining Eden’s barriers?”

“I’ll have to pass. Frankly, I have no intention of inheriting that role. You old bags can always fish out some Instrument to help him out. Or better yet, use one of those Hands of God we’re using as dust collectors.”

Yasu ignored his bait.

“You have duties. To fulfill them is your purpose.”

“Hardly. My purpose is to have more money than God and enjoy it as much as possible. If the old man’s tired, why don’t you all just raid the Garden and destroy the Spine? I’m sure if you throw enough bodies at it, it’ll come crashing down.”

“Oh yes, then we can reallocate our resources to capitalize on Instruments and atma, right?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. And you act like it’s an outlandish proposition after we sold millions of atma-tinted light bulbs last year. Bloom formation rates are down 13% since then. Imagine flooding the markets with newer, cleaner energy sources? Advanced medical technology? Vehicles and infrastructure of the future?”

“And what do you think the world will do with all this new technology when blooms are no longer a problem? What do you think the maestros we’ve bent into submission will do for money?”

“I know exactly what they’ll do. War is expected…and lucrative.”

“Your priorities are askew. Atma cannot be allowed to rampage freely.”

“Was it not your generation that executed Project Pantheon? Wasn’t that a silent war? Did you not rampage freely?”

“That was for order.”

“It was to maintain your status quo. To keep maestros shackled to this wonderful structure you’ve built for us. Innovation is freedom, Miss Rose.”

“Order is freedom. For maestros and non-maestros alike.”

“I’m getting bored of you geezers and your hypocrisy.”

“And I tire of the youth and their arrogance,” the woman replied. Wisps of her atma unintentionally spilt from her body. Andel stopped to look at her, then paused.

“I should apologize. After all, I came to bargain with you.”

Yasu scoffed.

“I pray this isn’t how you handle the Institute’s affairs.”

“Of course not. I usually have a few more insults before the proposition,” he chuckled, “I understand we have a bloom problem within our castle walls, and you have a succession problem within yours. It would be trivial for me to arrange a solution for these…issues.”

“So, what, your offer is to kill my granddaughter?” Amusement tickled the old woman’s eyes.

“My offer is to right the Institute’s course. Our shareholders aren’t exactly fans of that boy being in our ranks. It’d hardly be a challenge to manufacture another incident that ends up proving fatal to that duo. Or, at the very least, resulting in one dead bloom, and one deaf Rose.”

Yasu let out a hearty laugh.

“That would disqualify her from the succession.”

“And what would you ask in return? Support for your warmongering?”

“Nothing so drastic. I want Niko’s hand in marriage, to unite our families.”

“In return for maiming, and possibly killing my grandchild, I should marry off my other one to you? To what end?” Surely this man can’t be that stupid…

“For years, our families have worked together to make Instruments. With your ability to hear atma, and our ability to sing and chant with it, we’ve been able to rein in even the likes of Tamara Cain…”

“I am aware.”

“But nothing we have accomplished holds a candle to what Isio Adesanya could do with his bare hands. But if our abilities were to manifest in one child…”

“It could rival not just that man, but Tamara’s Agya,” Yasu finished.

“Precisely. It makes no sense that our abilities are separated from one another. Perhaps, they were once one. And I think we would benefit from restoring the rightful order.”

“Intriguing. And what would that unity look like to you?”

“It’d take generations of course. But we would be two sects of one clan.”

“I might consider it. If you can promise a maintained matriarchy. My family has no intention of regressing in all matters.”

“You drive a hard bargain. I can ensure that your family can lay claim to every female born from Rose Talia union. But for the head…surely the eldest child possessing the amalgam of our abilities should sit atop the throne.”

“The first generation of this united clan must be led by a woman.” Yasu’s mouth practically watered. Not only would this deal result in Akane succeeding her, but Niko would no longer be running around with women. Furthermore, she could see a new power eclipse Tamara Cain’s in this generation.

“Of course, this man has machinations he thinks to be hidden. If our families were closer, my thorns and myself could put them to a halt. The fool doesn’t seem to realize…”

“Deal.” Andel smirked. Truly, it didn’t matter. Whoever the clan head was, would be a product of his loins. And hopefully, no, surely, they would possess the ability to speak profit into existence. He almost licked his lips at the thought, although he wasn’t sure which engorged him more; the potential wealth, or fantasies of toying with Niko Rose’s firm, pale, flesh.

“Very well,” Yasu said, “This plan of yours…enlighten me.”

“…is that with this arrangement, the Roses will devour the precious lotus that is the Talia Family.”

~

July 12, 2022 - 1:33pm

Downtown, Eden City, New Eden

“Your insistence on finishing our shopping trip after all that is astounding,” Soji said. With his left hand, he cradled a brown paper bag, filled to the brim with burgers while he tore into one with his right.

“Those guys were easy, why would I stress about that?” Monika yawned.

“Well for one, your arm is bruised and won’t stop shaking, and two, you killed a guy…are you alright?” Kuro asked. He alone bore the burden of her shopping spree. Somehow, while buying clothes for Soji, several items for herself found their way into the baskets and onto Soji’s card.

“I won’t lose sleep over it. In situations like that, I’ll always choose me and mine, even if it stains,” she replied. Her hand continued to tremble.

“And the arm?”

“That’s just the recoil from my technique. That’s why I don’t use it and just rely on my atma’s trait.”

“Oh, I remember learning about traits,” Kuro lit up, “I had no idea you had one. They’re rare, aren’t they?”

“Yep. I’m lucky to have mine. My technique is way too much for me to handle.”

“What is it?”

“Well, when I hold my breath, my body has an increase in carbon dioxide, while my atma continues to spread. Now reinforcement is mostly muscle fibers and skin. This is something different. It’s every cell in a part of my body, buzzing with atma. And when they’re exposed to oxygen again…” she raised her hand.

“Damn. That’s really cool,” Soji said, “we could have amazing combos.”

“True. Come to think of it, I don’t think the three of us have fought together,” she replied. They walked into view of a rundown store, tucked between two skyscrapers, and made their way into it.

“Huh, you’re right. Also, isn’t it weird that we keep running into things that are considered rare and unusual? Like, my bloom thing, Kuro’s anomaly thing, your trait, Tamara’s everything, the stuff with Victor, and I’ll say that Daisy lady too.”

“That’s true…even in terms of strength, we’ve been in constant proximity with the strongest, and supposedly spatial techniques are uncommon, and yet…”

“They’re everywhere,” Monika finished.

“In the tapestry of destiny, the most disparate threads intertwine,” the weathered, old storekeeper called out. The trio turned to him, taken aback by his piercing green eyes.

“Destiny…”

“Let me guess, my friend, a cynic?”

“I mean, as unlikely as things are, there’s always a non-zero chance, isn’t there? That doesn’t mean it’s destiny.”

“How can you say that, when you are standing right here? Every single choice in the world has led up to this moment, with you and your friends, in my shop. Is that not destiny?”

“No, it's life unfolding.”

Monika and Soji disengaged, uninterested and instead chose to cruise through the shop’s items.

The shopkeeper smirked, and leaned forward against the counter.

“Certainly. And coincidences do happen. But they’re hints of a greater truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“You’re all captive to Fate’s grand design.”

“Hmph,” Kuro crossed his arms, “And what of you?”

“I’m an old man. Fate is an old friend.”

“So that makes you free?”

“Among other things. You children, however, will be toyed with by Fate until you serve your purpose. That is the curse of youth.”

“Hm.”

“Have I stumped you, my friend?”

“No. Do you mean to say that every action we take is just meaningless thrashing in the rivers of destiny?”

“That’s a wordy way to put it. But, yes.”

“And yet, couldn’t you say that we end up where we end up because of the choices we make, and not despite them?”

“I cannot. What about the choices of others? They affect your final destination, no?”

“But I have the agency to react to those choices…with my own.”

“Some of them. And even then, the choices you do make are shaped by your circumstances. Can you claim to be truly free?”

“I…”

The old man sat back with a satisfied grin. He let the boy ponder for a moment, then reached below the counter separating them.

“You know, I saw you three compete in the Orchestra. Flashy techniques, all around. You use a machete, yes?”

“Yeah…”

“Then tell me, is it not fate that out of all the shops in this wondrous city, that you come to mine, just after the arrival of this…” The storekeeper produced a straight, sheathed machete, and nodded for Kuro to take a look at it.

He apprehensively reached for the weapon, and pulled it from its covering. It was a carbon steel blade, obsidian in color, with a deep blue edge. As he gripped its hard plastic handle, Kuro let atma pour through it. The machete tightened at the reinforcement, and its edge crackled with bright blue atma.

“Woah…”

“Yes, yes, you like it, I’m sure. You don’t need to put so much atma into it, it’s already reinforced, ah? Just a touch!”

“Oh. I’ve never used an Instrument before. Does this one have any technique?”

“Of course not, it’s brand new! You want a technique for it, do it yourself!”

Kuro almost asked him how, but bit his tongue, hesitant to let slip another iota of naïveté. Monika brushed past him softly and placed a militaristic silver-headed tomahawk on the counter.

“What about that?” she interrupted, “What does it do?”

“You’re a Rose, aren’t you? You should be able to tell by its sound,” the storekeeper raised an eyebrow, arms crossed once again.

“I can hear something, but it’s not clear. I’m not sure…”

“You kids these days, you are not confident with yourselves. This…” the old man picked up the tomahawk, and held it with both hands. He ran his atma through it.

“...Is Titan!” The Instrument’s handle extended and its head flared into that of a double-sided axe. The kids watched in awe. When he took his hand off, it maintained its form. It was only when he stopped reinforcing it that it returned to its original form.

“I’ll take it!” She frantically threw her access card on the counter.

As the storekeeper processed payment, Kuro’s phone trilled. He answered.

An irritated Esme berated the boy, then summoned them to a rendezvous point towards the center of the city. Apparently, she’d tried Soji and Monika first, both of whom now realized that they never took it off of silent mode. The girl scoped out the city’s metro system, but settled on a fleet of cabs upon confirming that the train wouldn’t go to campus for another two months. With haste, they rushed out of the shop

“I know Tamara said we shouldn’t tell anyone about those weird guys,” Soji said, “but how are we gonna explain your arm?”

“I dunno, allergies?”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“I’m not the one that came up with that idea.”

“You’re stupid for other reasons.”

“How about,” Kuro interjected, “We say that both of you idiots thought it’d be a good idea to see how hard you could fist bump each other?”

“Who’s gonna believe that?!” Monika yelled.

“I would,” the boy chuckled, “it’s completely in character for the two of you. It’s a lot better than what you came up with.”

Penny popped out of his shadow suddenly.

“What’s a lot better?”

“You!” Kuro jumped before gathering himself, almost dropping the bags and boxes he carried on Monika’s behalf.

“Yes, me, no need to shit yourself,” she said.

“Why couldn’t I sense you at all?” Soji asked. Monika nodded in agreement. With her family’s ability, and Soji’s heightened bloom senses, even Tamara would have to take extra steps to avoid detection.

“How would you? The world below the shadows is mine.”

“That’s hardly an explanation,” Kuro replied.

“Too bad. Anywa— what the fuck happened to your arm?” She shrieked at the sight of Monika’s arm. The simple bruising had progressed into a puffy, purple mess, still trembling from the recoil, likely made worse by the bandages from yesterday’s fight.

The girl smiled sheepishly.

“Ah…Soji and I thought it would be funny to try for the world’s hardest fist bump…”

Kuro almost smirked.

“Soji!” Penny smacked the back of his head, “Nag-iisip ka ba? Why you hitting a woman, huh? Where’s your injury?” Her accent thickened.

“I, uh, healed.”

“Demonyo ka!” The Filipino gingerly lifted Monika’s hand to inspect it, shaking her head and muttering to herself in Tagalog. Eventually, she put the arm down.

“Nothing I can do. It’ll recover. Two, three, days maximum.”

“I know…”

“Come, come, we’ve been waiting for you,” she waved for the kids to follow after her, speeding ahead to turn a corner.

They followed suit where the rest of the group waited by a line of sleek, white driverless vehicles.

“Not bad,” Soji mused.

“Not bad at all,” Monika whistled.

“Hurry up!” Esme groaned, “The one called Miguel summoned us back.”

~

“Your campus coordinator has gone on assignment. Because of this, I will be taking her place. Until your first mission in a week’s time, you will endure rigorous training.”

The group groaned. They hadn’t even put their shopping items away, as the man called them into their lounge upon entry.

“This isn’t what was discussed,” Esme protested.

“Any of you are welcome to challenge me for human rights,” he reiterated. The room went quiet again. His hulking frame made it evident that it was probably preferable to do push-ups at 6am instead of whatever he would do to them.

“Fine,” Esme stood up. Niko tried to pull her back down, but her beloved stood strong. Angelo laughed, evidently having found more alcohol to dilute his senses.

“I seriously wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Soji warned. Even Kuro gestured for her to sit back down.

“Huh? Huele a perra aquí dentro…”

“That’s not how you say that,” Miguel replied, “But I’ll take your challenge. Come outside.”

“Wooo, a fight!” Dione squealed. She had a medium-sized mechanical bow strapped across her chest, and clapped in delight.

Esme and Miguel walked out to the grassy hill just outside their lounge, pulling the rest of the students with them. Only Money, Kuro, Monika, and Soji remained behind. The result seemed fairly obvious.

“I have a question, Money,” Kuro said.

“I doubt I can stop you from asking it,” he didn’t look up from his GameBoy.

“Can the scope of a technique be extended?”

“Not usually, and not easily. You’d need to raise your perception.”

“And how does one do that?”

“You could take a shortcut and be born a Rose, or a Cain. Their families’ abilities give them a higher perception level than most maestros.”

“Wait, perception like, the five senses perception?”

“Yeah, but more like the soul’s senses. There are five levels: tangible matter, intangible matter, energy and forces, space-time, and other souls. Whatever your soul can perceive is what your technique can affect.”

“That makes zero sense,” Soji rubbed his temple. Aren’t all atma users perceiving that stuff?

“I know, I don’t totally get it either. But other than being born blessed, Bonds and years of training can potentially raise your perception. Why do you ask?”

“Well, when, er, these two were fist bumping, the world froze, and it felt like my atma was the only thing that could move…I submitted to it. My fist sort of, zipped to where it guided me.”

Money paused his game. He observed Angelo slumped over in a drunken stupor before he spoke.

“You entered Clockwork?” He whispered. “This soon? That’s incredible!”

“I can only explain it in video game terms,” he continued excitedly, “but basically, entering the state of Clockwork is when—”

Esme’s body slammed against the lounge’s resilient glass with a THUD, startling Angelo who looked around, then wandered off. A mix of cheers and audible wincing followed. Soji watched Angelo leave with pity. After contemplating for a moment, he lightly jogged after him.

“Anyway, Clockwork is like when you parry in a fighting game. For a moment, the only active agent in the world is the atma of those who are in that state. Your atma already flows with your intention, so you have to let it guide you. Whatever movement you make will be unburdened by friction, gravity, the limits of your strength, and to others, appears instantaneous.”

“So it stops as soon as I make any movement?”

“It could. Those who enter Clockwork don’t get to choose the length of their stay. You could be allowed one movement, or two, or ten. Although, the highest I’ve heard of is five.”

“Can anyone do it, or does it depend on that perception stuff?”

“It has nothing to do with perception. We were talking about extending the scope of techniques then. Even I’ve entered Clockwork a couple times, but my personal record is two movements.”

“I still don’t get why it’s special, though. Is it just that I get an uninterrupted attack, er, movement?”

“No. Not only is it incredibly difficult to enter, but the power and intensity of your motion is exponentially increased, and it ignores the reinforcement of whoever you hit.”

“A critical hit…”

“I could hit even an Elder…”

“You get it.”

“How did I enter it? Can I do it intentionally?”

“You were probably under extreme stress, and your atma responded by moving faster. Entering clockwork comes down to speed, reinforcement, and the golden ratio.”

Money turned fully.

“When atma travels through the body, it flows along the nervous system and the cardiovascular system. With reinforcement, what happens is that the cardiovascular system delivers atma to your muscles and skin until your brain tells it to stop. What this means is it’s moving at two different speeds within your body. Are you following so far?”

Kuro and Monika nodded.

“Now, you can increase the speed of electricity through your body by increasing the speed of the atma traveling along the nervous system. This results in a boost to your reflexes. You can also do this to your cardiovascular system.With that, you get greater organ function, endurance, and even faster healing. Are you still with me?”

The kids nodded again, albeit more apprehensively.

“Now, when the speed of your nervous system atma plus your cardio system atma divided by the speed of your nervous system atma is equal to the golden ratio, you enter Clockwork.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what the fuck, go back.” Monika stopped Money.

“You just said a bunch of random things just now, can you try again?”

“Nope. The theory is easy if you know math. The application is much harder.”

Kuro brought out his phone, searching for this ‘golden ratio’. It had only every been a brief topic brought up in math class, and a very simple question on a test. After a moment, he got it.

“A plus B divided by A is equal to 1.618. So which one is A and which one is B. And what units are we using?”

“A is your nervous system atma speed. B is your cardiovascular system speed. The units of velocity don’t really matter, but let’s assume kilometers per hour.”

“Alright,” Kuro showed the graphic he found to Monika.

“You can use your atma to increase or decrease the speed of either of these two systems to reach that number, but it’s risky.”

“How so?”

“Firstly, your blood flowing faster could damage your blood vessels and organs. The same goes for your neurons. If it’s too fast, you could short circuit yourself.”

“So is it better to just throttle the speed?”

“If you are able to do that in the middle of a fight, I’d be impressed.”

“I see. How can I master it?”

“It’s not something you can rush,” Money read him, “You’ve progressed quickly. With swordplay, with your technique, and some of the fundamentals. But everything after that needs time.”

“What else is there?”

Money just smiled, then walked to the glass door. Miguel and Esme were still in a heated battle.

“That girl’s pretty good,” he deflected.

Miguel aimed for her side with a punch, but she spun around, producing a straight dagger from her back pocket. Before she could strike him, the large man knocked her hand away. She spun the blade in the air and caught it with her other hand, stabbing at him several times. The two blocked and countered each other repeatedly, with Miguel even wielding the dagger at some point. He launched it at her and lit up when she clapped her hands together to catch it.

“Battle Arena: Formation A”

~

Soji tailed Angelo, making sure to keep his distance as he watched the older boy pitifully stumble around, muttering unintelligibly.

“Jamie…” he mumbled. He fell to the ground, in front of some campus building they’d yet to visit. As Soji approached him, he could hear his soft sobs mixed in with laughter.

“What’s up with this guy?”

“Are you one of those people whose friends have to chase them when they get drunk?”

Angelo looked up at him, shielding his eyes with his mechanical hand.

“F-fuck off, bloom. You killed Jamie. You kill everything.” He rolled over.

Soji sighed, then picked the boy up. He protested, slamming atma reinforced fists into the kid’s back as he was thrown over his shoulder.

“Your friends aren’t here. If I leave you now, you’ll probably drown in a puddle.”

“Shut…up…”

“We’ll be back soon. You need to go to bed.”

“Why are you…”

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know either.”

Angelo continued to mumble to himself, repeatedly calling for ‘Jamie’. Soji was tempted to ask who that was, but held his tongue. That question would likely be met with more insults, and neither of them could afford for him to freeze with guilt.

When they finally reached the residence, the boy rushed upstairs and dropped Angelo on his bed.

“Good riddance.”

“I don’t really know you, but you gotta fix up, bro. This is sad.” Soji shut the door behind him. He rushed downstairs, hoping the fight was still happening. His eyes widened when he saw everyone doing pushups, with Miguel and Money standing over them.

“Esme lost!” Quietly, he crept backwards, hoping to avoid this punishment.

“I don’t think so!” Miguel said, “200 for trying to sneak off.”

“Noooo,” the boy groaned.

“Yes. By the time you get your first mission, you’ll be broken down, and rebuilt.”

“Again?”

“Again.” And so they were.