’From wearing lab coats to an academy uniform,’ he thought.
’Life sure is unpredictable,’
Since they most of the time was absorbed in suppression of unforeseen incident, Marcellus was told to leave in a hurry.
He was currently sitting opposite to Maeve in his private flight. But he felt quite uncomfortable wearing uniform.
Not because of its fitting. But the design in itself. Dark violet pants paired with black shirt and a dark violet coat with a singia of twin headed Lion etched in complete black.
It looked more fancy and formal than he expected it to be.
His gaze drifted to Maeve, sitting across him.
She looked absolutely stunning.
Her version of the uniform was distinctly feminine and far more distracting. The crisp black shirt clung tightly to her narrow waist and full breasts, a light violet blazer, long black feminine jeans hugging her toned legs like a second skin, paired with black boots.
Marcellus let his stare linger for moments, he had no idea he was looking at her intensely with his hand that rested on armrest, supporting his chin.
Maeve noticed his gaze and shifted slightly in her seat, but maintained her composure.
"Is the uniform... uncomfortable, Young Master?" she asked, despite faint nervousness.
"I’m not fond of uniforms," he tilted his head.
"Besides your look far better on you..." he meant that with complete sincerity.
’This bas--- Calm...Stay Calm...’ Maeve’s fingers tightened around the phone in her lap.
[Initialization Complete.]
Then, Marcellus’s focus shifted to the screen that appeared in front of him again.
[Baseline neurological synchronization complete.]
[You may begin.]
’Begin? Begin what?’ he thought.
[Observation.]
As if reading his thoughts, those words appeared on the window.
’?’ He was absolutely confused.
But just when he was beginning to consider possibilities in his head, the words changed.
[Primary Objective]
[Ensure survival of the Story’s Primary Character.]
[Status: In Progress]
’WHAT? Story? Primary Character? Am I inside a story?’ he thought.
[Possibly.]
’Possibly?’
’Who’s this primary character?’
[Sub-Objective]
[Identify the Story’s Primary Character.]
[Status: Pending]
’You’re asking me to protect someone who’s identity you don’t know?’ he asked in his thoughts.
[I think so.]
"..."
’Who are you?’
[I’m not aware of that.]
’Why am I here?’
[Primary Objective]
[Ensure survival of the Story’s Primary Character.]
[Status: In Progress]
’...’ Marcellus took in a deep breath in frustration.
But unknown to him, his was directly staring at Maeve’s chest and taking in deep breaths.
’This motherfuc---Calm...Stay Calm...’ Maeve thought.
Marcellus closed his eyes and thumped his chest in frustration as his face showed visible frustration.
He then looked at Maeve and thought.
’Is she the primary character?’
[Maybe.]
’Maybe? The fuck is Maybe?’
’THIS IS FUCKING USELESS, WHO THE FUCK IS PRIMARY CHARACTER?’
[Sub-Objective]
[Identify the Story’s Primary Character.]
[Status: Pending]
’...’ Marcellus massaged his temples and stared down for a while.
"Are you... alright, Young Master?" Maeve asked, looking at his clearly visible frustration.
"I think so..." Marcellus replied.
’Why am I replying in the same tone as this useless window,’ he thought.
"Right..." he collected his thoughts, and distracted himself.
"About this academy, do you happen to know anything about it?" He asked.
"About the academy? As in it’s public standing?" she asked.
"No, the academy itself, rankings, classes, and everything," he said.
"Hmm," she shifted a little, crossing resting her thigh on another.
"It’s also my first time attending, but since we’re the third generation cadets, I collected quite a decent amount of information," She said.
"Third generation?" he asked.
"Uh yes, as you know admissions don’t occur yearly. Instead they happen in every eight years. This is the third generation, you’ll face cadets who’re older than you, who’re from other families, government associations, the Union, mercenaries, unaffiliated, criminals given a chance, and sorts of cadets." She said.
"There are Twelve Pillars of each generation. These pillars are the strongest and the smartest of awakeners. And also the ones who’ve ranked highest," she continued.
"This time the competition was fierce, because force control has evolved over generations and techniques,"
"Would I be right to assume everyone has ranks?" He asked.
"Absolutely, but they do not matter if you’re not under the top hundred." She replied.
"What might be your rank?" He asked out of curiosity.
"I was designated a rank 61, Young Master. Though these are just numbers that change constantly with performance," She said, and deliberately mentioned the change considering what rank Marcellus had.
And Marcellus definitely noticed that.
"Well they’re not usually important, combat abilities tend to have higher ranks, but that does not mean they always win-"
"What’s my rank?" he asked.
"..."
He understood that pause very well.
"That bad huh? But still, there must be a number," he asked.
"It’s in five hundreds. But fret not. Absolutely not. Because your ability of eyes was flagged by the academy, they think you can be more than just support type that they determined earlier," she said, leaning forward.
’Eyes?’ he did not mind about what she was saying about his rank. But the word caught his attention.
[The Axiom.]
The screen appeared again.
[Status: Active]
[Function: Perception.]
[Current Capability: Identification of structural weaknesses and optimal trajectories.]
[Development: Immature.]
’They call this...support type?’ he thought.
’Or maybe Marcellus never revealed what they were capable of in the first place,’
’But still...is that it?’
[Axiom does not enhance physical capability.]
[Axiom enhances observation.]
[Observation is completely dependent on interpretation.]
"I understand," he murmured his thoughts, and Maeve thought he was disappointed in himself.
Which she did not mind at all. Her goal was to gain enough recognition to be someone beyond mere assistant to heirs. This was just a way to achieve that goal.
"Attention, passengers. We have commenced our descent and are now approaching the United Nations Private Island. Estimated time to landing is five minutes. Kindly remain seated with your seatbelts fastened until the aircraft has come to a complete stop."
The pilot announced as the flight started descending from higher altitude.
’If observation is dependent on interpretation, and axiom enhances observation...’
Marcellus looked at his armrest, deep in thoughts.
’How do I use my force, how do I know what even is force?’ he thought.
’Maybe... It’s involuntary process,’ he stared at the armrest more intently.
’Perception. Identification of structures...’ several black started appearing in front of his eyes, sketching out the frame of armrest and stretching towards the structure of the plane.
’Every vulnerable corner...is the one that has several threads overlapping,’
’Marcellus does not have a transmitter function derived for his core. His force is just energy that it circulates for the axiom,’
’Force needs a transmitter...or a medium, a momentum...an oscillation,’
He placed two fingers on the overlapping threads sketching across the armrest.
’Having circulation is not enough to utilize this energy...it needs to be transmitted,’
Marcellus looked at Maeve who was scrolling through her phone.
For the first time, his perception changed. He didn’t see any colour, he saw a person sketched, a more fundamental structure of her organs, a superficial organ just above her abdomen, circulating an energy unknown to him.
’This is force...’ he thought.
Then instinctively, he noticed his own body is doing the same thing.
Force was never dormant. It was an energy that constantly circulated all the time. It needed a transmitter for execution.
[Observation Registered.]
[Phenomenon Identified: Force Oscillation.]
He observed how her force pulsed. It’s frequency was different from his.
’But, transmission is everything, not Oscillation.’
He still hasn’t understood enough.
He kept staring at the armrest and focused on the overlapping threads he touched with his finger.
’A stress point of a frame...Everything has its own resonance,’
[Concept Recognized.]
’If force already oscillates naturally, why can’t I impose my own oscillation?’
[Method Identified.]
[Execution Available.]
[Method: Oscillation.]
[Executing: Oscillation.]
The moment he willed it. His force oscillated, creating a resonance far more lethal than the stress point of frame could handle.
It felt as though another organ had awakened beneath his ribs.
A faint warmth spread through his chest before racing along his arm in obedience.
Marcellus watched in silence as the resonance hit the stress point.
Once.
Twice.
’Not enough,’ he thought.
’I’ll increase the output of resonance,’
[Executing: Oscillation. Rate: 20%]
The whole frame shook in disastrous turbulence as plane descended to land.
The landing gears were almost out when pilots experienced the frame of aircraft under severe stress.
*BOOM--!*
Both engines mounted under the wings erupted into explosive fire.
Bright flames, and thick black smoke billow outward as the aircraft shook violently in mid-descent.
"!!" Maeve looked at what had just happened. She grabbed her armrest as alarms blared through the cabin.
"Emergency! Engine failure on both sides! We’re going down! Brace of impact!"
The pilots announced managing the rough landing on the UN’s private Island’s runway.
The plane skidded hard, as metal screeched and sparks flew across the runway before finally coming to a smoking, ruined halt.
"..."
"..."
Marcellus looked outside dumbstruck, gripping on his seatbelts as if his life depended on it.
Maeve on the other hand, was staring at him in shock.
’What did he just do?’ Her thoughts were spiralling. She never knew he had an ability like this.
He was just a support type.
Marcellus looked at her, and smiled awkwardly.
"Sometimes..." he said. "My genius is almost frightening."
"..."
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