Chapter I “Initiation” *

There was no doubt that the Oakridge Military Academy graduation party had taken its toll on many students. Even though strict in their methods of education and conduct, the administration spared no expense when it came to entertaining their hardworking cadets, whom shed blood, sweat, and tears on a daily basis in the constant desire and endeavor to be the best. “Uuhhgh…” a voice muttered in the dark. It was the sound of great despair and regret from a night of heavy drinking. These were the first words of a senior cadet who had obviously had an exceptional time at the party, even if she was greeted this morning by an imposing headache. Olivia, which was her name, barely knew where she was or how she got there. Most of what she attempted to remember was but a haze—it was as if she had consumed something more than just alcohol. If it was not for her spirits, which were casually hovering in the air above her bed, the room would have been pitch black. The spirits emitted faint lights of blue and white coloration. It was a marvelous display, comforting to wake up to, but she had seen it many times before and therefore did not care. On the floor next to her bed was a bottle of water and her cell phone. These were good signs, as it meant that Olivia had made it back from the party to her dormitory room in, seemingly, one piece. She could not have slept for more than a few hours, four at the most. Olivia came to this conclusion by hearing housekeeping in the next room over, going berserk with the vacuum cleaner. She picked up her phone and swiped the lock; her worst fears were confirmed, as they were by the sound of housekeeping: it was ten A.M. She had not slept this late in years.

The Oakridge Military Academy was one of the most prestigious and disciplined military educational institutions in the world. It offered a wide selection of programs for students between the ages of seven and up to twenty-one. Olivia and her friends joined the academy at the age of eight, which was thirteen years ago. However, a person has the right to apply and join at any time regardless of age. Oakridge provides an invaluable blueprint for life and all of its challenges and not to mention a guaranteed position within any official army of student choice. The academy complex itself is massive, with hundreds of classrooms, live-action training grounds, combat simulators, relaxation areas, dormitories, two libraries, several cafeterias, recreational areas, and numerous physical education facilities. All regular school subjects are covered in the steering documents, but with minor modifications to make room for military and combat oriented subjects. Students receive lessons in everything from natural sciences to social sciences, applied sciences to philosophy and history, to all things warfare. If a student is accepted into the Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group upon graduating regular training, the student will commence his or her higher education and receive lessons in unconventional warfare and tactics, tradecraft, interrogation methods, investigation, and black operations.

Olivia leaned over the edge of her bed and grabbed the water bottle. She could not remember the last time water tasted this good. It was probably due to her being severely dehydrated. But, before she could think another thought, take another sip of the water, or turn on the lights, housekeeping suddenly knocked on the door. These elderly women were not to mess with, and they did not approve of what was going on at the graduation party—consuming copious amount of intoxicating substances, dancing on tables, playing with water hoses, destroying the gardens, playing loud music, or anything else of such nature was not appropriate behavior for children. However, the nearly irreparable mess that the students left behind for housekeeping to clean up were probably what pissed them off the most. Housekeeping knocked on the door again, but this time with more punch. “Alright, alright… just a minute…,” Olivia moaned. As she attempted to gather some clothes and collect some things off of the floor, a key suddenly rattled in the lock and the door opened. Olivia was startled and let a modest cry escape her lungs: “Gah! What are you doing?! Get out of here!” she yelled. “You have to hurry up, miss,” the woman replied, somewhat startled herself by the fact that the young girl was barely dressed. “Alright, just give me a second, close the door!” Olivia said. The woman was kind enough to step back outside into the dormitory halls. Moments later, Olivia emerged from the room in her signature clothing: white sneakers, tight marine-blue jeans, a white top, and her father’s leather jacket in her right hand. “Sorry about the mess in there…” she said. The housekeeping lady just grunted and made her way inside with the vacuum cleaner.

There was only one thing that Olivia could think about as disappeared around the corner and down toward the main complex: food. The hotdog specials that the ‘Windsurfer’ cafeteria was serving this week was heavenly and the most popular choice among the students. They only served these hotdogs once a year, and this was the last day! Olivia increased her pace, and with every step, those greasy hotdogs became more and more desirable. However, her rush was suddenly interrupted by a phone call from her aunt. Olivia considered the thought of not answering, but this was her only parent. She had to answer.

“Hi, Janice.”
“Hello, sweetie. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine…”
“Did you have a good time yesterday?”
“It was alright, I suppose…,” Olivia replied and stumbled down some steps to the main academy complex and walkway, which was akin to some boulevard, leading up to the famous Oak tree.
“Did you drink?”
…yes… “…no…”
“I’m not sure that I believe you, sweetheart.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“I was young once too, you know.”
“Tell me all about it…”
“So, are you coming home today?”
“I don’t know. They might call me for that thing I told you about.”
“What thing?”
“…the special army thing.”
“Do you have to be in that?”
“Well, no… I don’t have to, but I want to.”
“They are just going to send you somewhere dangerous, Olivia.”
“That’s sort of the point… Janice.”
“I wish you’d reconsider…”
“I’m sure you do, but I won’t.”
“Well, okay… be safe… and call me when you know if you’re coming home.”
“Okay, I will.” Olivia said and hung up.

The academy dormitories were available for free to anyone who desired to stay there, but students who lived close to the academy did not have to. This was not the case for Olivia. Where she used to live with her aunt was far away from Oakridge. Sometimes it felt as if she could never go home even if she wanted to, because it was such a tedious and expensive endeavor to get there. First, she would have to hike to the nearby town of Doral. From there she would have to board the ferry across Lake Oxbow to Makena. The train bound for Norton City from Makena would take her to Eldred, and from there a bus would carry her to Helston—end of the line. This trip would cost her nearly twelve hundred credits, which was two months’ worth of student support. She could have paid and gone home for the summer, but there was no point. There was nothing for her to do in Helston, other than be reminded of Sam and cry all day. Olivia’s aunt understood the predicament, but made sure to frequently call instead.

By the time Olivia hung up the phone, she had arrived at the Windsurfer. That wonderful scent of those hotdogs filled her mind and her body, and it was ecstatic. However, Olivia was met by a dreadful line of other hung-over students, who had the same idea as she did, and it would take forever for her to get her hotdogs. She freaked out: “Grraahh! You got to be kidding me!” she yelled. The other students were too tired and too preoccupied with their phones to care. To her much appreciated relief of despair, Olivia noticed one of her shallow ‘friends’ standing in the middle of the line, closer to the front than to the back. It was Britney Farron. She was a dumb, blonde cheerleader for the Academy’s Football team. Olivia did not care for football, or sports in general for that matter, but Britney was a useful ‘friend’ to have, as she was the queen of student high society—her father was the CEO at some energy corporation.

“Britney!” Olivia said.
“Oh, hey girl… how are ya?” the harlot replied, and kissed Olivia on both cheeks.
“I’m fine, I guess… hey, are you getting hotdogs?”
“Last night was…amazing, we had such a good time. Did you talk to that guy at the bar?”
“What? Yes,… no, I don’t know. Are you eating or not?”
“Me and Stacey were at this after-party in Doral, it was crazy! You should have come with us sweetie.”
“Britney, are you going to eat or not?”
“Yes! Geez, what is with you?”
“I don’t know, I’m just hungry.”
“I thought you said you were on a diet.”
“I am…, but it does not mean that I can’t be hungry.”
“... yes it does.”
“…..what?”
“Never mind, I have to go to the bathroom. Hold our place, okay? Love ya.”
“Uughh…”

Olivia’s eyes nearly rolled out of her skull, but at least she was closer to the hotdogs than she was a minute ago—a fair trade. But before she could settle down, and before Britney was back from the lavatory, the academy PA-system sparked to life with an announcement: “The following students, please report to the administration offices in building C, 4th floor, in ten minutes: Olivia Celestine, Jared Thael Conrad, Fredrick Caine Kang, Kathrine Hardy, Jynette Karridan, Kimberly Rene Faye, Remiel Morgenstern, Royce Guyvers, Magdalena Abendroth, Emily Whitehall, and Aaron Nyles.” The names of the people Olivia had come to love more than anything in the world sounded throughout the academy halls. This was it. This was the moment she had been waiting for a long time—the Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group. Ten minutes was enough to procure a hotdog. Yes, more than enough time.

The soft golden light shimmered across the two forms curled up in bed together, their bodies squished close in a bed that was most certainly designed for one. Jared Thael Conrad slowly began to stir, years of habit and self-discipline pulling him out of sleep despite his late night activities at the grad party. In response, the gold light began to shift and intensify, suddenly sweeping across the room in luminous arcs; it seemed almost playful. Interspersed here and there were flashes and specks of multihued colour, dimmer but much more energetic. A particularly bright flash of gold caused Thael to open his eyes and sternly usher his spirits back into invisibility. At his insistence, the gold light grudgingly dimmed then disappeared. He sighed in satisfaction; Roy was still soundly asleep, his own spirits zipping around overhead. In the nearly two years they’d been together, Thael’s spirits had caused no amount of morning irritation for his companion. Thael didn’t mind them though, in fact he was grateful. For as long as he could remember, the tall blonde Guardian had been afraid of the dark. It was a deep, irrational fear that he still struggled with. When he was very young, he could never sleep unless he had a nightlight on. After his spirits arrived, they’d gently taken over that role, making sure it was never completely dark around Thael.

He glanced at the clock on his bedside table: 9:32 am. He’d slept in later on occasion, wrapped in the comfort of Roy’s arms, but he generally prefered to be up a little earlier. He took a moment to gaze lovingly at his boyfriend: even in sleep, a small smirk was fixed on Roy’s lips. With one final effort, Thael heaved himself out of bed and enjoyed a luxurious stretch. He checked his phone as he got dressed-shorts and a t-shirt for his morning jog-and saw that he had a text from his mother. Hope you had fun last night! I love you, and I’m so proud of you. He’d have to find time to give her a call, but between their schedules, it wouldn’t be easy. Once Thael’s youngest brother had turned 8, he’d been shipped off to join his siblings at Oakridge, and Mom had gone off to run the ER at a military hospital near the front. She was a few time zones away and working 14 hour days, so they rarely had a chance to talk.

Thael slipped quietly out of his room and set off on his jog. It was a perfect day for it: bright and sunny, but not too hot. He was feeling surprisingly good considering how much of last night had vanished into a haze. He remembered doing shots with Kate and Olivia, getting into a chugging contest with Kimbo, and he had a vague recollection of pouring gin and tonics for Jyn saying “cause, you know, Jyn and tonic? Get it?” Overall it had been a great night, and his headache was entirely bearable.

He passed a few bleary eyed friends from the football team as they made their way to breakfast, squinting at the bright sunlight and lurching about unsteadily. “Morning Kyle, Brad, Jake!” he called out to them cheerfully as he ran past. They responded with an array of grunts and halfhearted waves, unable to match his energy. Thael chuckled to himself; there was a certain amount of pleasure to be had in rubbing his early morning cheer in other people’s faces, especially fellow football players. Many of them focused entirely too much on their sport and not enough on academics, which Thael disapproved of. It might be easy to forget here at Oakridge, but there was a war going on. For Thael, football was a distant second to his combat training and schoolwork. He did it because it was a good way to keep fit and learn about operating as part of a team, but guys like Kyle seemed to think they could make a career out of the sport and took it way too seriously.

The team had done well under Thael’s leadership: he was well suited to being a quarterback, and team captain. The coach established a strategy and an objective, and Thael-having memorized every play in the book-decided on the best one to fulfill the objective. Football was easy for him because nothing too unexpected ever happened. There was ample planning time, fixed positions, and predictable patterns, none of the unpredictability of his advanced tactical courses. Much to his chagrin, Thael had continued to struggle with those classes. He could beat the preprogrammed sims just fine, even the advanced ones, but the instructors in AdvTac delighted in throwing extra challenges at their students. Thael had been running an urban combat scenario just the other week when the instructors had decided to suddenly give his AI opponent overwhelming air superiority, just to see how he’d handle it. As it turned out, the answer was ‘not well’. Thael had failed the sim and taken 80% casualties to boot. Just remembering the incident caused him to cringe. He’d still passed the class, but whereas before Thael had been a shoe-in for SWARG, but now he wasn’t so sure, and that uncertainty gnawed away at him.

If he could just make it into the Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group, he’d be fine, Thael told himself as his run took him up the small hill covered in Oak trees for which the academy was supposedly named. The SWARG instructors could doubtlessly help him overcome his problem, Thael was sure of it. He just had to make it there. He paused at the top of the hill, overlooking the whole campus. It was beautiful here, that was for sure, and he’d miss it. There were so many memories of him and his friends scattered around campus, and there was a good chance he’d never see it again. Thael caught himself before his thoughts got any more melancholy. Yes the academy had been a great place to grow up, but it was time to move on to bigger and better things. With renewed determination, Thael resumed his jog, heading for the Windsurfer cafeteria in hopes of grabbing a hotdog for a late breakfast.

He’d barely set foot in the cafeteria when the announcement came over the PA system. He was stunned for a moment. He could hardly believe, he’d made it, much less all of his closest friends. He’d made it into SWARG. He’d made it! A weight suddenly seemed to lift off Thael’s shoulders, and a bubbling feeling of joy swept through him. He threw back his head and yelled at full volume “WOOOOOOOOHHHHH!!!!” then set off at a sprint back to his dorm. There should be just enough time to shower and get into his uniform.

God dammit guild >.<

Quanta. Matters of time and space. Digits and distance. The relationship of objects. The logistics of war. What had that guy been saying at the party last night? Something about the importance of distance between artist and subject. He'd certainly seemed pretty adamant about it. He spent an awfully large quantity of time talking about it. Remi hadn't really heard much of what the guy had said. He wasn't that close to the man. At least not in terms of familiarity. Besides, he'd been a bit distracted at the time. Vivian had been occupying a lot of space in Remi's thoughts at the time.

The room Remi was in was white. Blindingly white. White, halogen lights were inset in the ceiling, their radiance reflecting off of the white tiles that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. Remi squinted. It was impossible to get used to the room. Just when you though your eyes could adjust everything always seemed to get a bit brighter. He tried to ignore it, concentrating on the task at hand. Remi ran a gloved finger between the ends of the bow, tracing a thread of spacial, spirit stuff between the two ends, imperceptible in the glare.

'Space', she had said, 'she needed space.' That was what Vivian had told him before the party. Remi did not understand. He seemed to have given her plenty of space, he thought. In fact, she had always complained that he was always a bit distant. Keeping her at arms length, as she had put it. Maybe that had been the problem all along. Too much space.

Remi focused on attenuating the distance between the spacial thread, warping the space within its hollow core, the bow curving as it was bent inwards. Satisfied, Remi felt for one of the bolts in the rack in front of him, lifting the smooth, metal length into the air, even the matte shaft glinted in the unrelenting glare of the lights. The tiles that covered the room were one point seven meters to a side, running four full tiles from floor to ceiling, and 500 tiles long along the two longest walls. The floor was eight tiles across at the shortest. All told a volume of 78,608 cubic meters with a surface area of 34,864.96 meters. Remi notched the shaft around the almost invisible spacial thread. Straightening he lifted the bow, the joints on his left sleeve giving a quiet hiss at the motion, hooking two fingers around the thread of the bow, Remi closed his eyes, relishing the cool darkness for a moment. He drew back the bow, concentrating upon the elasticizing thread. His arm quavered slightly as he pulled the fletching past his right ear. He breathed in. He breathed out. Once more. Remi breathed in. He breathed out. A beat. His eyes snapped open. He let go of the shaft and the thread. The distance contained within the thread twisted and warped, space undulating back towards it's natural state, for an instant, a tiny fragment of reality was sovereign to Remiel's will, and then it wasn't. Remi didn't see the bolt leave his bow, he released the string and the shaft vanished. There was a sharp ping at the other end of the room.

It wasn't lost on Remi that a pattern was forming. Vivian was just the last in a relatively sizable line of women who had all reached the same conclusion. Vivian had stuck around longer than most, but eventually, whatever allure there was in Remi's stoic, soldier-boy airs faded, the veneer peeled, and they realized that under that stony disposition was even more cold and lifeless. The possibility that the ultimate failure of these relationships might in fact lie in responsibility with him did not escape Remiel. Still, he didn't know what to do about it. Perhaps...

"Not bad, kiddo!" A voice crackled through the intercom. "We clocked that one in at 774 J, unassisted. I still think we can squeeze out a little more though. Let's do a few more and then we'll begin with the B.A.S.I.L.I.S.K. tria- oh, hold on." There was a short pause. "Ah, alright. We're going to have to cut the session a little short Mister Morgenstern, apparently you are being called to report to the admin offices on the fourth floor of C. We'll pick up the trial tomorrow, same deal as usual. Don't worry though, I'll make sure you get credit for all of today." The intercom but out.

Remi said nothing. Doctor David wouldn't be listening anyway. Instead he released his hold on the spacial thread, the ephemeral strange spiraling into nothing once more. Kneeling down Remi placed the stringless bow into the foam inset of its carrying case. Stripping the B.A.S.I.L.I.S.K. off of his arm he placed it into the case as well. Folding the bolt rack into the cover of the case he carefully shut the lid, averting his eyes as the rooms blinding lights reflected off of the cases silvered finish. Why did they always insist on making the test equipment so damn reflective? General sadism?

A foolish question, perhaps, it was probably the same aesthetic sentiment that caused them to use such as contrived an acronym as basilisk. Remi didn't give it much thought. More pressing matters occupied his attentional space. A summons from the administration today could really only mean one thing. As he picked up the case and started for the exit, his footfalls echoing down the long, white hall, he idly wondered if the others had received an order to report as well. Most of his compatriots were probably still asleep, Remi had stayed sober enough last night to remember how many of them were decidedly not. It didn't matter, if they hadn't heard yet, someone would soon come around to tell them the exciting news. Not that Remi seemed all that excited. He had been expecting this day for some time. As far as he was concerned, today, like everything else in life, was just a matter of time and space.

They were just a pair of bodies, emitting muffled snores as an individual buried their nostrils into a mess of hair and one snugged into the crook of a neck. The pair were pressed against each other, under the covers and the bright lights of spirits. The warmth against Roy's cheeks, in particular, comforted him into sleep the previous night and kept him locked into place until late in the morning. He'd awoken to rustling and the heat of Thael's chest vanishing; the coldness that followed threatened to fully rouse him, but Roy only mumbled himself back to sleep as his significant other got dressed and promptly left. It felt too early, 9:00 A.M. at best.

It felt like seconds before he'd awake again, though the clock on their nightstand shown 10:00 A.M.—about the right time he'd usually wake up. The ringing that quickly followed forced him to fully awaken. Then, a noisy pop resounded in the dorm room behind him, followed by a scream, then a very loud, very bellicose, "ROYCE PUCK GUYVERS!" in a high pitched voice. With the way they reacted—very belligerently and with a numerous amount of yells and shouts—Freddy might as well be his mother. But, all of that was his cue to leave, and hastily.

Grabbing a pair of clean underwear, and strewn articles of clothing, Roy fled the premises the moment Fred came out in all of his rainbow, glittery glory. The ensuing chase was his morning exercise.

What went through Roy's mind last night as he set the trap up was probably alcohol and even more alcohol. He remembered throwing up in Freddy's laundry basket, as well, and maybe a few drawers; drinking with a full stomach, and then eating afterwards, wasn't his brightest idea. The 'art herpes', as Freddy called it, was one of his better, if not messier, antics. The glitter bomb was the only actual thing he’d planned on spewing in Freddy’s room. Recalling any of it, though, aside from the fact that it was a prank that he set up whilst inebriated (another proud moment for him), came up as a blurry haze. He'd done enough of this to know what to do next.

The rest of those few minutes were quite simple: Roy had lost Fred, like he usually did, and made his way down to the mess hall. He'd spotted Olivia in the god awful line, listening to some pompous blonde drone on. Fearing he'd get dragged into it, Roy ducked between a few tables until he'd found his way around some groups too busy in their chatting to notice Roy hovering above them. Finding unattended and uneaten food during this time was his specialty, and standing in line was not. After scooping up an ample amount of food from unsuspecting victims, Roy gave Olivia a curt wave as he moved past her, before making his way back to a secluded seat. The announcement, however, forced him to stop, half of a hot dog stuffed into into his mouth. It took a moment to register, but when it did the largest smile broke across his face and he immediately changed course for his dorm room to grab his uniform and take the quickest shower of his life.

Afterwards, he sneaked back into his room, making sure Freddy was no where to be found, grabbed the dozen or so hot dogs, and scurried off toward the designated building. This was, to be honest, very surprising to him. Who would have thought, of all people, Roy would be among the few accepted into SWARG. He'd not be surprised if the majority of his friends asked if he'd done anything stupid. Roy wasn't enough of an idiot to mess with most of administration.

Roy had had a moment to think before anyone arrived—at least before a few of them—going over his time spent at the academy. It wasn't the most pleasant decade and a half, or about, but Roy had his fair share of lovely memories. They more than made up for the times he'd been sitting in the brig for almost killing a few students, or the time he set one of his teachers on fire. To be honest, he was fairly sure he'd smoked some kind of intoxicating substance during that fiasco. At least, he convinced himself that he'd have to be high to set someone on fire. If not for Olivia working her magic, pulling some strings, he'd have been kicked out his first year. Of course, as he grew older, nothing much changed; he still did the same stupid things and screwed up more than he could count on his fingers and toes. The only difference being that he grew cleverer, and learned how to better cover his tracks. Roy never much changed from the manipulative bastard that he was and there really were only a few things he regretted doing, one being how he started his relationship out with Thael.

He'd never tell the big lug because, whether he admitted or not, he really did care for him, but he was never really in it for the long haul when they first started out. In fact, the relationship started because Roy felt vindictive over an ex of his; they'd ended it pretty harshly. Well, harshly enough to warrant Roy's anger. What he didn't expect was to get something other than maybe a good time out of Thael. He remembered clearly stating that, "This is a friends-with-benefits kind of deal..." but Thael must have been too busy daydreaming to hear anything but muffled, "I love yous." Thael had offered him quite a bit of things he'd never experienced, being cared about in a romantic way among one of them. Yet, there was always a nagging feeling in the back of Roy's mind that it'd end badly for both of them and what worried him the most was that it'd be him. But, there were more important things ahead of them than romance and whatever that entailed.

Setting up shop by the stairs, he spotted Thael the moment he came striding in. "Nabbed some food just in case you didn't get a chance to eat," he said. A bright smile was plastered on his face as he presented the plate of hot dogs. "They're a bit cold, but it's food and they're still Windsurfer quality hot dogs."

Coughing, he set the plate of food down on the secretary's counter, garnering a glare and snide remark from her. With his hands deep inside his pockets, he gave Thael the goofiest smile he could muster before looking back at the entrance as more of his friends filed in. He made sure to point out the hot dogs. Breakfast still remained the most important meal of the day, even a late one and stealing it from others was one of the ways Roy showed he cared about his friends.

Freddy was feeling decently happy for once.

Freddy had an odd thing about him in that he remembered what happened when he was drunk much better than most. He remembered joking around and partying and just having a good time. He drank as much as he could(which really wasn't that much, he was more or less a light weight), and formed some rather hilarious moments with his friends. Freddy just had a good time, and was more or less content.

He looked at his clock, still basking in the after glow of a fun night out.

Oh shit.

"Paint huffing unholy son of Satan!" he swore, getting out of bed and very quickly taking his shower and dressing up. He had slept in late, almost to 10 o'clock. He had to hurry and start his day.

As he opened the door to leave his dorm room, time seemed to slow down. He only had a slight moment in which he'd noticed the door resisted his pushing more than it should, before he looked up. His jaw almost dropped, but he somehow had the presence of mind to shut it, and his eyes, tightly and look down. His hands shot up too late, as the bucket turned over and spilled it's glittery, gooey, colorful contents all over the perpetually angry individual.

After a few moments of shock, Freddy turned crimson red and shrieked out, "ROYCE PUCK GUYVERS!"

Freddy shoved Puck's door open. Puck was sitting up now, seeming quite happy. Freddy turned even redder in the face.

"Sorry to interrupt your fucking AFTERGLOW after what was no doubt a wonderful night of love making, but can you please explain this god damned ART HERPES THAT IS ALL OVER MY BODY!?" Freddy shrieked.

Puck got up, and slowly strode over to him.

"No."

"No!?" Freddy snapped.

Puck took another step closer, now just an arm's length from Freddy, "No."

"God dammit Puck this is not freaking cool! This is so not cool that the very sun is looking in on this in jealousy saying, 'dayum son, I wish I was that not cool!'. It's so not cool that even the worst celebrity douchefucker would just sort of uncomfortably shuffle away, feeling disturbed by how not cool this is! It's so not cool-"

"No..." Puck said, stepping very close. His breath was on Freddy's lips, and his eyes were staring into his. Freddy sputtered and stopped. Puck had a pleading look in his eyes, and Freddy suddenly noticed Puck wasn't exactly fully dressed yet. The blood rushed to Freddy's cheeks, and then to somewhere else as Puck drew ever so close.

"No..." Puck said, "No homo."

Then he grabbed Freddy's pants and pulled them down.

Puck shot out of his room, swift as a ninja. Freddy stumbled over his pants, roaring out, "SWEET UNHOLY BUDDHA I AM GOING TO TAKE THIS GLITTER GLUE AND SHOVE IT SO FAR UP YOUR ANUS THAT IT'LL COAT YOUR TONGUE! NEXT TIME YOU'RE WITH THAEL HIS DICK WILL BE SO GLITTERY THAT PEOPLE WILL COME FROM THE 80S TO DANCE AROUND IT!"

Freddy pulled up his pants and rushed after Puck as he shrieked, fury lending strength to his leg muscles. Puck was swift and clever, but Freddy was being powered by sheer IMPOTENT FURY. He rushed with the speed of a cheetah in pursuit of its prey. Puck turned right and started going down a new hallway, and Freddy skidded to a stop to follow him down that hallway. Suddenly, Puck was on him, bowling him over and rushing away again. Freddy was knocked over, but he used the momentum to roll to his feet once more. He turned and rushed after Puck, glitter glue spattering on the floor. Puck stopped suddenly, and shifted right just as Freddy would have reached him.

Freddy collided, not with Puck, but with his history teacher. Freddy got more intimate with that teacher than he had with anyone else in his short life, as he failed to cancel his momentum and slammed into the man. They both fell over, Freddy coating the teacher's suit in glittery glue.

Puck was nowhere to be found.

"...Mr. Kang..." the teacher said.

"...Yes Mr. Dean?"

Long story short, Freddy was paying for the man's dry cleaning.

Twenty minutes after the announcement over the PA, Freddy finally arrived, glue clinging to his face and hair, unfed, and furious.

"...Fuck Puck."

****

The presumptuous thoughts marshaling to the glorious but remorseful events happened after graduation led Jyn to the most inconvenient wake up routine she'd ever remembered having. First times were sometimes a painful guilt, ending up regretting the next day with distorting mirages flashing relentlessly in one's mind. Jyn did expect to be drained up once everything was over but the term was somehow, just an understatement of the sheer volume of exhaustion smearing about an illness against an early awakening. There was definitely pain, though not much but a small ounce of it was just enough for Jyn to feel miserable. Overall, something as terrible as a hangover wasn't well perceived by her senses even after recalling the moderated behavior she administered, or at least it was something she considered remembering.

Water. For once she never thought it was divinely quenching. Every single gulp felt like the excess weight which was reluctantly dragging her body down was being dispelled away. A simple basic drink never was sublimely uplifting than drinking the different varieties of coffee that she was mostly in favor of. In fact, in her current state, she might even think on discarding her daily caffeine intakes and replace them with water just to drive away the slight illness she was suffering from. However, water was unfortunately not enough to diminish everything as an unwanted headache remained pummeling through, making things much more difficult for Jyn to manage.

Groaning almost frequently in every move she attempted to make, Jyn finally rolled up from her bed. The feeling was ambiguously like leaving paradise then suddenly descending down to the fires of hell. Even trying to stand firm, it was still nearly impossible as she tumbled wearily, often demonstrating jerky movements with a bit of uncertain steps slightly faltering at a repeated basis. Jyn tried something out and got a firm grip of a plank near the cabinet in her room. Luckily, it helped her loosen up for a while as she gathered the most possible strength which could be substantial enough to withstand the ill feeling she had. After a few moments, Jyn finally held her senses at a sturdy state though her headache was still present but not entirely potent to deviate her from being alright.

Morning rose as a glimmering ray of golden yellow light radiated from the room's window. Jyn slowly paced over and slid the curtains aside, unveiling a marvelously captivating view of the sunrise. The bright light stung her eyes at the first glimpse then after adjusting to it's hues, Jyn crooked up a smile at the sun which was bathing on the first few days after graduation. To her, it was simply an abstract sign of fortunes sanctifying through future endeavors though believing in such was never meaningful as it was before Samuel died. Jyn could still remember the days where they would both wake up and meet at an extremely early hour just to see the sun rise and then come back again until it sets down in late afternoon to exhibit yet another wondrous view. Somehow, picturing those memories was sometimes a painful curse she couldn't afford to shrug off not because of the tragic loss of Samuel but pulling herself back to the past just makes her 'moving on' exploits a pointless commitment.

Though feeling a bit sturdy for a moment regardless of the hangover, Jyn still wasn't completely liberated from the on-going headache lingering past her incompetent immunity to withstand it. However, seconds after wandering back to her room, a vibrating buzz breezed towards her ears following a melody of a very loud ringtone*. "Shit" she muttered, quickly rushing to search where the sound was coming from. She remembered placing it under her pillow and so she cruised through her bed and found it with only a few seconds spared. If it wasn't for the ringtone's excessive volume, it might took minutes for Jyn's phone to be found. As she picked the call up, Jyn immediately spoke without identifying the caller.

"Hello? Who's this?" Her voice was a bit coarse from the terrible feeling she had after waking up.
"Jinny! This is Lance just giving a how's it going call"
"I'm sorry. Who?"
"Lance. Lance Greyson, your foster brother." The hangover was practically worse than what Jyn had never imagined. Seemingly, she was forgetting things at the moment and she couldn't actually explain why. After realizing who the caller was, Jyn held her breath then exhaled heavily with a small ounce of disbelief.
"Get out. I mean really? Lance?" Even for an excited response, Jyn still felt sore on her throat.
"Oh come on Jyn. It's just puberty hitting my voice" Jyn chuckled not only at how delighted she felt on the concept of growing up but also to the fact that someone from her previous foster home actually had thoughts on giving her greetings despite the many years passed before she left.
"Well, yeah you sound completely different now. Gosh! I can't believe you're actually a grown up man, last time when I was still there, you were like...4 years old or something," Jyn paused. There were streams of questions in her mind waiting to be asked but she decided to sail them slowly. "Where are you? and how did you get my contact? did mom and dad know about this?" Or maybe not. Still, Jyn tried to make things accordingly without making Lance slightly annoyed.
"I got your number from mom and dad. Yes they knew and I'm now away from them. Yipee freedom."
"What?"
"I mean, I'm away from home for University life. I'm already at college, studying here at Herlen" Herlen University...amazing She never expected him to be ever studying at a well-renowned and prestigious university though she actually wasn't giving judgement on his intellectual capability since Jyn only had a few years spent at foster home. The only reaction she could exhibit is the simple and honest act of awe.
"Wow! I can't believe you're already in college and studying at one of the famous universities"
"Well, that's just me. Nothing special really, just a student working his hardest. Actually this call is just about you, not me. So I'm sorry if I inserted that kind of topic"
"Oh no, don't apologize. It's okay. What do you want to talk about?"
"I was giving you a greeting on how things are going on up there. Also, I heard you just graduated, mom and dad told me... so, Congrats Jyn!" Jyn felt delighted. She smiled on how the conversation was cruising.
"Awww, thanks Lance. And everything seems to be fine though rough training couldn't be avoided but I guess that's just an essential part if I'd like to end up with good remarks here."
"Great to hear. I actually planned on driving over to visit you there, you know, just to see.... how old-looking you are now hehe. Though I'm not exactly sure if visitors are even allowed to visit"
"I am not old looking!" Jyn exclaimed, her voice slowly regained it's normal tone but haven't completely recovered at that point. "Also, you'll visit? That would be so cool. Don't worry though, I'm sure the higher ups have some considerations on visitors. I'll let you know when's the perfect time"
"Great!" There was a short pause, filtering through the few seconds of dead chatter, though Jyn managed to clear her throat just to check if Lance was still on the phone.
"Uh....Oh, I'm sorry Jyn. I have to drop the call, I forgot I have something important to do right now."
"It's alright, I understand"
"It's really nice talking to you. Just save my number and I'll call you back as soon as I get some free time"
"Alright then. I'll save your number at once. See ya! Nice talking to you Lance! your voice....somehow....brightened up my day"
"Really? wow, I didn't know my voice could actually do that," Lance paused, chuckling awkwardly "Anyway, See ya! I'll call you later, If not, then tomorrow"

Truly, Jyn had found the convenience of comfort in the midst of a miserable morning however, something was amiss about the call. Trying to retrospect Lance's way of speaking, it felt like there was a pinch of uncertainty which Jyn couldn't clarify well, or at least not in her current state. It was as if someone was forcing him to call her and the last crumbs of spoken words sounded like they were being rushed down. If Jyn could recall, foster home was somehow difficult at the first years of living though everything changed in her prospect eventually soon after she adapted and made adjustments to the comfort of her living. Foster home was completely different and the ambiance of a true home wasn't anything she could freely embrace. Not that it was harsh but Jyn, at that time, was still very young and couldn't yet give an improvised judgement. Still, she wondered why they still called even if it wasn't necessary to do so but overall, Jyn was delighted for whatever the reason of the call was. Listening to Lance's mature voice was more than enough.

Half an hour later, Jyn finished preparing herself for the day. After hitting the showers, she clothed herself with the typical type of attire she normally wore on a regular basis which was a polo shirt, jeans, and a bobble hat. The original plan was to start the day at the library after breakfast but since Jyn wasn't in any good condition for her mind to nurture knowledge, she decided to discard the library part and return to her dorm room once breakfast is finished. Finishing her arrangement with her bed sheet, Jyn grabbed a small ounce of time to look at herself in the mirror. She brushed her fingers through her soft wavy hair while striking a glimmering smile. After that, she flipped some strands over her shoulder then ending with a harrumph before she started to pace outside. The door creaked as it was closed, then Jyn sauntered through the corridors to find the cafeteria.

As soon as she arrived at the cafeteria, Jyn's jaw dropped exaggeratedly over to the view of a monstrous line. "God damn it" She sighed, unable to think of a quick action to fill in her empty stomach. Jyn was undoubtedly hungry and if something would top off the headache she had from the terrible hangover it would be piling up through the line which might take an eternity for Jyn to get her breakfast. Her shoulders felt quite heavy as she continued gazing to the line. Obviously, she knew bragging about the situation wouldn't give progress and soon thought it was better to start falling in line than never actually doing anything. On the farther side, her sights spotted Olivia. One person she felt relieved seeing. Actually, there was an opportunity to skip the line but most of the hungry people piling up might shoot her with expressions she never wanted to see. Jyn wanted to shout her name just for a greeting or a notice if ever Olivia would consider on inserting Jyn to her side of the line. However, before Jyn could even do that, a loud tick of the PA system bellowed with an announcement, mostly catching everyone's attention as the people paused and turned their heads towards the origin.

"Perfect" Jyn whispered, she let her body slid past the person in front then slipping away from the line. Lucky enough for her, fortune did actually find their presence towards Jyn's attempts as her eyes sighted an open gap of the line, enough for her occupy. It was farther than the side of Olivia's so Jyn made sure to make her movements quick and unnoticeable. Jyn broke into a fast pace though her steps were silent. She thanked her shoes for having flat edges. She continued her way through, not actually paying much attention to the PA system. But as the announcement went on, familiar names breezed through her ears which gradually slowed the momentum of her pace. Jyn still managed to move towards the gap of the line, just a few inches away and she might get her breakfast in no time. However, things got carried away after hearing the two gravely familiar words she wasn't expecting to hear.

"Jynette Karridan"

"Shit!" Jyn exclaimed, then as seconds turned into a catastrophe, her shoe slipped against the floor, followed by the foot wearing it and then her body. She hit the floor unsteadily then eventually landed her body down just like a domino effect. Jyn grunted over the slight pain her right foot felt as it was the first part of her body which thrashed down the floor and lifted the rest of her weight which came tumbling afterwards. The pain actually wasn't the only problem she should be worried about as people from the cafeteria shifted their attention at Jyn once the announcement was over. Still, she couldn't believe her name was heard but she actually wasn't sure what to do now that she was called over. Perhaps asking the people whose names were heard might provide a clarification. She did hear Olivia's name and the others after her so It wouldn't be a huge problem either way. However, Jyn might first consider on dealing the embarrassing act she just recently made.

At first, he could hear nothing. He knew he dreamt about something, but whatever dream he had faded away into the abyss. His mind was still submerged somewhere between unconsciousness and consciousness when he felt something pull him towards the real world. Kimberly was starting to wake up. The last thing Kimberly vaguely recalled thinking about was where “that noise” was coming from, before slowly opening his eyes.

Kimberly Rene “Fuzzy” Faye woke up in one of the many dorm rooms at Oakridge Military Academy. He spent the first few minutes of the brand new day staring blankly at the dimly lit room. There was nothing particularly interesting to be looking at, but his body refused to do anything else. When his brain was finally awake enough to do actual thinking, it started wondering why it was still kind of dark. To find the answer of this question, Kimberly’s neck gathered all of its strength to slightly turn the head towards the clock. “This is as far we can go”, the muscles of the neck seem to say, “go on without us.” The task was then passed on to the eyes. They locked onto their target. “No… No it could not be. It’s impossible!” …Why am I awake at 6 in the morning after graduation? “No! Wait, false alarm,” the eyes focused on the clock harder, “it’s 5 in the morning.” Oh. Phew. And here I thought I had gone completely mad. Good. More sleep for me then. Goodnight. Kimberly prepared himself for a second bedtime rest and would have succeeded had he done so a few seconds earlier. But no. It was too late. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard “that noise”. He thought that maybe it was the last few survivors of last night’s party still partying. Or perhaps no one alive had the strength to turn off the stereo. Either would have been possible, but Kimberly was wrong. The faint noise started to get louder with each passing second. Eventually it became loud enough for Kimberly to realize that the noise was actually samba music. Batucada, to be more exact.

Then, after slamming the door open, a mob of singing samba dancers came flooding in, doing what they did best: dance and smile like they meant it. One by one, the performers danced their way further into Kimberly’s room, steadily taking over every free space the not-so-big room had to offer. That’s when he realized this was just one of those moments. Kimberly groaned as he hid himself under the blanket. “You know they’re not going to leave, Kim,” he heard his roommate say. Not that Kimberly needed the reminder. The dark blue mountain on the bed sighed in defeat. Soon after, a mop with a human’s body emerged from the cover and disabled the alarm clock. He didn’t even know why he bothered with the thing: these “people” always woke Kimberly up as early as possible. Kimberly looked up to see that some of the dancers moved onto the furniture, allowing even more dancers into the crowded room. His roommate was sitting on the last dancer free furniture, next to the bed, staring at Kimberly. He smiled, “morning Kim.”

---

Kimberly quickly regretted heading for the shower. Why did he do that? He was going to do manual labor outside that involved dirt. He should have taken a bath after the job was done. More importantly, he was forced to shower in front of an audience. They may not be “real”, but they were real enough for any stripper to blush. Kimberly was cornered into the bathroom wall, surrounded by constantly smiling, never blinking dancers who continued to face toward Kimberly’s direction. When Kimberly stayed in the shower a little too long for their liking, the performers started to zero in on the giant. Some even managed to get into the shower with him. Not only were constantly smiling, never blinking dancers watching Kimberly every move, but now, Kimberly could not look anywhere without seeing them, except for the ceiling---… wait, he lied. NOW Kimberly had people dancing on the ceiling as well. Though they did not say sing it, Kimberly thought they were upset that he was getting water on him while they died of thrust outside. I doubt you would want to hydrate yourself with hot water guys. Kimberly turned off the water and managed to squeeze pass the dancers to get to the medicine cabinet. He ingested his well-needed medication, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and left the room with gardening tools, all while attempting to ignore his elaborate musical hallucination.

Kimberly passed by the cafeteria kitchen on his way out. Although the cafeteria was not technically opened just yet, the kitchen staff worked diligently on preparing breakfast for the students and teachers of Oakridge Academy. The staff looked surprised that Kimberly came early, but once they saw his attire, they knew where he was heading. Kimberly paid for his bento, which waited to be picked up by him everyday, and went on his merry way. He could have simply eaten at the cafeteria if he wanted to, but that tended to create unwanted attention.

The walk down the hallways was like a parade: the dancer’s movement became more energetic, more imaginary people joined in on the singing, and the music that literally came from nowhere started to speed up its tempo. It was more than obvious the performers were unable to contain their excitement. “Don’t worry… I’ll get there…” Two undergraduates, unfortunate enough to have been walking in the halls at that time, jumped to the side in fear when Kimberly suddenly mumbled something. The giant blushed faintly and continued to walk towards the doors. He had failed to notice the younger students walking when his hallucinations used up most of his senses. Poor things. Of course no sane person saw or heard what Kimberly experienced. He was going to have to expect some new rumors about him for the next few days.

---

He should have expected to see the imaginary carnival when he finally reached the school’s garden. Yet there he was, standing there, watching the non-existent attraction play out before him. It rained imaginary confetti, extravagant parade cars of various shapes and sizes scattered around the school grounds served as a stage for a number of imaginary performers, and thousand of imaginary beings danced and sang in perfect unison. From how they the show went on, Kimberly could tell this morning musical was at its climax. The performers gave it their all and when the show came to an end, they all posed for Kimberly.

An awkward silence passed between Kimberly and the imaginary entertainers. The performer’s creepy smiles never disappeared from their faces, but their body movements indicated that they were not sure what to do next. They were waiting for Kimberly’s response. After double-checking that there were no real people around to catch him in the act, Kimberly finally applauded. The imaginary performers’ plastered smile shined brightly more than ever as they bowed to the only audience they were ever going to have. When their heads rose up, their eyes twinkled with anticipation, a hope that their show was enough to appease their gardener.

For the first time that day, Kimberly took a good look at the damage the graduation party had actually done to the school garden. Messy… was an understatement. The garden looked like it was hit by a natural disaster. A warzone even. Garbage was all over the place; a number of plants were trampled on or were pulled completely out of the dirt only to be tossed aside; pools of vomit were spotted in certain areas; traces of urine dripped off some of the plants; some trees had broken branches; and a number of drunken bodies were found dead asleep across the campus.

Kimberly sighed and turned his attention back to where the army of imaginary entertainers was standing. This time, however, there were no performers in sight. Whether the medication had finally decided to kick in or his brain was just tired of making things up, Kimberly knew not, but the fictitious carnival vanished from existence and was replaced with reality. It was the world normal people saw… with an added bonus of spirits that hovered in the air silently. “You know… what would be great?” Kimberly smiled at the spirits as he rolled up his sleeves. “For more people to think that Kim is even crazier by dancing to music that they can’t hear?” Kimberly’s “roommate” appeared out of nowhere only to disappear once again. Kimberly could feel the confusion emitting off of the spirits. Sarcasm was not exactly a spirit’s strong suit. Kimberly rephrased his roommate’s statement, “to listen… to some music while I work…” The spirit of sound was more than happy to oblige to the request.

---

Despite working on the gardens for the entirety of the morning, and even getting assistance from the official gardeners and janitors of the academy, Kimberly was nowhere near completing his garden-cleaning quest when the school’s intercom summoned Kimberly and his friends. For some odd reason he never thought that the announcement was about the Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group. In fact, Kimberly guessed that Roy had seriously messed something up last night that the old gang was called in for interrogation. He felt slightly guilty for making such assumptions about Roy, but then again, it was Royce “Punk---… Puck” Guyvers. No one could blame Kimberly for thinking Roy did something stupid… right?

“Sure, Kimberly.”

An intense buzzing cut through the stillness of the morning, jolting the girl from her uncomfortable slumber. Weary eyelids parted, revealing a pair of deep brown eyes staring blankly towards the ceiling. Kat parted her still painted lips and exhaled a breath of both disappointment and frustration. Her head pounded, her eyes ached. Somehow she managed to swing her arm down to the floor and slapped her phone until it shut off. The ringing stayed in her ears for a few moments, until it was replaced once again by the light breathing of Kat and the guy whose bed she was currently sharing. She took a moment to enjoy the silence and watch as a few of her spirits tentatively emerged from their veil. They floated effortlessly above her, resembling a small stream. They varied in shades of blue, most deep in hue, with a few clear ones mingled in. The blues were vibrant and magical, but the clear ones had a certain beauty that was unmatched. Their subtley required a more attentive eye.

The night had been a wild one. While Kat was no stranger to alcohol, it was graduation. It was almost a requirement to get wasted. And, for Kat, it was a welcome one. She remembered the beginning of the night. Getting ready, drinking a bit in her room, meeting up with everyone. But as the night progressed her memories became more and more strained. A lot of it was just a blur of lights, smiles, and drinks. It was crazy, but it was fun. She enjoyed herself, ignoring the fact that her time at Oakridge was coming to an end.

Eventually she had split away from her friends as the night died down. She met up with Tyler, a guy she knew from a few of her classes, and they talked for a bit before heading back to his room. This was not all that uncommon for her as of recent. She had a lot on her mind and at some point realized meaningless sex was just another method that helped her to avoid her problems. This had gained her a bit of a reputation, but she didn't care.

The body next to her stirred, and with his movement her spirits retreated back into their shy world. His awakening signaled her to get out of bed, as little as she desired to. She grabbed her phone from the floor as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was as she pulled her dark jeans on that he spoke.

"Leaving already?"

"Yes. I'm hungry and need a shower," Kat responded, scanning the ground for her blouse.

"Alright. It's a little past ten, you wanna get lunch? They've got hot dogs!"

"No. Not at all."

"You sure? C'mon I thought we had a good time last night?"

"Last night is over."

She checked over her belongings, making sure she had everything, and then move to the door.

"See ya," She said as the door closed.

Kat drudged slowly back to her room, her head and stomach giving her a hard time each step of the way. As she unlocked her door, the PA system buzzed to life. She turned her head towards the direction the sound was coming from and pushed the door open at the same time. The voice spoke name after name, quickly listing all of the people in the world she was closest to. A smile formed on her lips. So they had all made it after all. Her smile vanished as she heard they were to report in ten minutes. She cursed under her breath as she entered her room. She wouldn't have enough time to get ready and eat. After a few moments of deliberation, she decided on the shower and got to it.

The hot water soothed her aches as it flowed over her, washing off the bad decisions of the night prior. The constant stream of relief almost convinced her to skip the meeting. She already knew what it was about, why even bother? Besides she was probably already late. It only took a few moments of deliberation to realize this was a dumb idea. She begrudgingly turned the water off and stepped out.

Kat got ready in record time and was out the door with two minutes to spare. Her hair was still wet, but that was unavoidable at the moment. She pulled it into a loose bun as she walked down the hall. She'd get herself sorted after the meeting, she just had to look moderately presentable.

As she strode towards where she had been called to, Kat checked her phone. One missed call. From her mother. Kat stared at the screen for a bit. She was somewhat surprised that her mother even remembered her graduation date, as they hadn't talked in several years. Kat had been living at the school longer than she had with her mom, and they had gradually drifted apart over time. Several fights sealed the deal, and Kat and her mother just stopped talking altogether. While she didn't wish to separate from her parents, it was out of her control. They were both too far to visit and talking on the phone got tiresome after some time. Perhaps it was better this way.

Kat arrived just on time, strolling in confidently as if she had planned it. A cursory glance of the room revealed that most, if not all, of her friends were here. She gave a slight wave and smiled. Then her eyes landed on the plate of hot dogs Puck had pointed out. Kat practically jumped on the platter of food, shoving half of one into her mouth and biting down. Her stomach growled in appreciation as she finished one and grabbed another.

"Thanks Puck, I thought I was gonna die."

Emily dreamed, as always, of darkness. It wasn't the darkness of a quiet night, or the even the blankness she saw when she closed her eyes. That sort of darkness had form and limit, because the sun eventually rose, and eyes eventually opened. This was the darkness of the void, of a place wholly without perceptible dimension. It was the darkness of a place filled with nothing - not just now, but ever, stretching back and forward for boundless aeons unchanged. She had visited this place every night for years, ever since the spirits first came to her. At first, the trips had only been brief glimpses, lasting a second or two, but over time they had grown longer, and now she spent what felt like an hour or two a night in the void. She had been afraid, and her terror had grown as the dreams became longer, but the more time she spent there, the less she feared it. What was there to fear, after all, in nothing?

There were the whispers, though. Empty thought the void was (or perhaps because of how empty it was), Emily knew her presence there was a disturbance. It was hard to shake the feeling that there had to be something out there, however alien, that *something* had to occupy this desolate corner of the universe. The longer she remained, the more clearly Emily thought she could perceive that something, some form of consciousness lurking in the blankness. She had no way to know whether it was drawing her closer or pushing her away, or indeed whether it perceived her at all. Maybe it did, but didn't care. It was there, in any case, always just on the edge of what she thought she knew. Sometimes, she thought it spoke to her, whispered to her like the spirits did in her waking hours, when their quiet utterings would flit across her mind and vanish before she could interpret them. The whispers, and the idea of something larger, made her afraid. She worried that in this incomprehensible dreamscape, she was a tiny fish, pulled by the current towards the light of a large and dangerous predator. She knew that if this were so, and if this other creature swallowed her, it wouldn't be out of malice or even a desire to feed: She would simply have been in the path of some other, more succulent prey.

Her phone's alarm went off, and Emily woke from her dream into her tiny, darkened dormitory. Her eyes snapped open without hesitation; she pulled herself into a sitting position and grasped the bedframe to steady herself. Her eyes swept around the room, then focused on phone. She leaned forward, and reached out to shut off the alarm. It was 7:00 AM. Just as she had on so many days before that one, she dressed in a gray tank top and sweatpants. She took her staff (collapsed, of course) from its resting place on her dresser, pulled her hair back, brushed her teeth, and left the room. In the deserted mess hall, she got a coffee from the sole employee working the breakfast counter. The woman gave her a look that was halfway between confusion and sympathy. Emily wasn't sure what to make of that - she was deadset on treating this like just another morning. She'd gone to dinner with her father after the ceremony yesterday, and then on to the students' party, but she hadn't stayed long. Everyone was dancing, everyone was drunk, and while she had tried to dance and drink neither made her feel much of anything. Instead, she'd returned to her room, happy to put an end to the day, and gone to sleep.

The gym was empty, and so were all the practice rooms. She got one to herself, not that that was particularly rare, but she always preferred it. Her morning exercises were always the same: warm-ups, running, calisthenics, forms. Usually, she listened to music while she ran - it was a mind-numbing activity - but today she found herself preoccupied.

Yes, she'd graduated, but to what? Nobody had been assigned yet, and if she didn't get the post she wanted, it wouldn't matter what her accomplishments at the Academy had been. All the celebration was so... so empty. She'd come a long way, it was true. She'd learned a lot, she'd gotten a lot better at practically every aspect of life, but there was still so far to go. She still didn't really understand her spirits, the things that brought fear clawing at the back of her mind in every waking moment, even now. The things they let her do were still hard to understand, and harder to control, no matter how adept she'd become. This wasn't the end; she couldn't rest easy. She had so much more work to do.

By the time her run was over, she felt tense. She raced through calisthenics, skipping most of the exercises, and moved quickly to practicing bo forms. Even the most advanced routines were second nature to her now, but she always started with the most rudimentary anyway. They helped her stay calm, and they never stopped being worth knowing. She rehearsed them perfectly, never missing a step, never mistiming a strike. Emily didn't enjoy exercise - the repetitive, useless movements made her feel like a caged animal - but the forms weren't just exercise. They were the basis of everything she knew how to do, and it took a certain frame of mind to do them well. Today, especially, she needed the comfort they brought her.

Usually, she practiced for only an hour before getting ready for class, but it occurred to her that there were naturally no classes today - or ever again. When practice ended, she'd have to face the world again. She'd have to think about her assignment, whatever it ended up being. So, instead, she worked for hours, going over every technique she'd been taught, she fought invisible opponents, she tried running attacks and jumps and spins she usually didn't attempt outside of training with an instructor. When she was finally exhausted, she laid back against the wall of the training room, the bo resting across her lap. She wiped the sweat from her face with a towel, drained her water bottle, and closed her eyes. For a few moments, she thought she might pass out - maybe she had pushed too hard - but she didn't. Her breathing slowed, her heart rate went back down, and she waited there for some purpose or agenda for the rest of the day to enter her mind.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the P. A. announcement; she pulled herself to her feet when she heard her name. Emily knew what the announcement meant - they'd heard it broadcast for last year's graduates, and the year before, and so on - but it took her a moment to realize she really had been called. She left the training room, breaking into a run, but once she'd made it to her dorm she had barely enough time to rinse herself off and dress again. She arrived in the office out of breath, her hair still wet, wearing another workout outfit (there had been no time to pick anything else).

She glanced around the room, and it crossed her mind that maybe this was about something else - all these people were her friends, or at least, the group she knew best. Maybe they were in trouble for something... why was she so unwilling to admit she might have made it into SWRG? Emily collapsed into a chair, tired again, waiting for whatever came next.

There was a reason that Magdalena Abendroth did not have roommates.

Primarily because new individuals made her nervous in the initial greetings: hello's and commentary on typical weather made her fidget in subtle hints of habitual consuetudes. And secondary because of the perpetual darkness that sluiced across her pores in visible momentum, it often forced others to take cautionary greetings and to be in simple distances of her. Rumours circulated that her shadows touched people, caressed them sometimes or spun around them in oddity circles as if to beget attention, and then attached themselves to other overcasts to create strange obscurities that were beyond the typical norm. Of course only a handful of individuals could testify to those fictions, associated students only saw the original shadow of herself that didn't change in density and remained as an inky pool of her heels. But there was a maintained dignity about her, refined within silence and further polished by her academic prowess. Considered studious and perhaps bookish in her apathetic veneer.

Though all of those appellations were now tossed out the window, literally.

But waking up alone in a varied haze was nothing new in the fall of routine, lashes peeled back over azure hues and her glances were glassed over with clear indication of the previous night. She didn't move just yet, laying upon her spine in the most uncomfortable position possible upon her dormitory floor; the thin carpeting of beige threads and her were well acquainted with Magdalena's penchant of fidgeting in her sleep, often from the victimizing of nightmarish hallucinations and entities that manifested in her waking world. The shadowy apparition now in front of her, blocking all sources of light, gaped a hellish maw and grinned like an infamous Cheshire at her before convulsing and spewing a obsidian tar that sunk and was absorbed by her skin — a demon coming home. Magdalena sighed carefully into the air, panting her slight frustration and fisting her delicate hands through her sallow tresses and counted out in German through her subconscious until all of her spirits were snug within and around her, no longer fixated to their will. Though she wasn't entirely sure if they actually lived, had thoughts and dreams and desires that reflected their mortal vessels, but it was an interesting enough thought as she slowly dis-tangled herself from a discarded heap of ebony cloth.

Her wardrobe has been erratically discarded from the night before in vain attempt to procure a decent article that didn't broadcast her hellacious soul and turmoil, of course the search was for nothing as an ebony layered skirt and a slinky camisole of the same hue had been her only convivial attire. Of course now aforementioned outfit was wrinkled and smelled of booze that made her nose crinkle and immediately shed the offending stench before it clung to her pores. There was a familiar twinge across her arms and legs that told of physical strain, her hands brushed over muscles to work out the kinks that hadn't been stretched out properly, hearing a pop in her shoulder that made her wince in satisfaction at the pressure. Magdalena gathered her clothing into a dark mass before dumping the contents into a bin designated for their departure before making her own leave to the lavatory with its door askew. Flipping on the switch revealed a rather surprising sight of a shattered mirror and her toiletries haphazardly strewn about on the linoleum. She groaned inwardly.

There was also a reason Magdalena Abendroth didn't drink.

It wasn't a low tolerance towards alcohol, but rather her aptitude for it. It seemed no matter how many bottles she downed, an impressive feat given her size, and the amount of tumblers turned over in front of her, she didn't stumble, falter or slur her appointed speech. As long as she didn't stand up. However it only took one singular event to spur the complete unleashing of a rampaging, table flipping woman of Germanic phrases and swears that made the most lewd and provocative blush scarlet to their roots. The unfortunate receiver of such rampegeous vocalizations had been the primary target of thrown furniture and miscellaneous paraphernalia of common dorm facilities and their lounges, the windows however received full force of her impressive throws and slinging lamps across far metrics. Her formidable exercises did not go to waste in this dark hour of inebriated festivities. She wasn't entirely sure who, one her much bigger, stronger companions no doubt, that had swooped her up and promptly ended her sudden assaults and locked her within a wall of flesh.

Magdalena felt her cheeks heat at the hazed memory, the fact that she had lost control after being known for her indifferent mask to the public was a mockery and she was sure, by now, everyone was aware that a raging drunkard lived within Magdalena. Oh how Freddy would be proud.

"Fuck me," she groaned, merely toeing her objects aside before she bent at the waist to retrieve what remained of her brush. Grooming was usually a comforting process, and the lack of a hangover was a blessing, but her sheer embarrassment illustrated her movements as rushed and self-directed as she tore the bristles through wheat-blonde threads. She couldn't believe it, of all nights and moments to lose herself, and this time is wasn't at the painful summoning of the thing inside her. Magdalena used what remained of her shattered mirror to glare at her reflection of blue and blue. She wasn't entirely positive on the time either which made her fumbling mortification more pronounced as she stumbled back into her room and reclined to all fours to search out for her phone. She only hoped that with this being post-Graduation-drunken-ceremony that everyone would still be swept into a party fervor and simply forget. Magdalena dug under her clothing, searched through her sheets, and found the device lodged between the wall and mattress.

Her fingers tapped idly against the back, thumbs hesitating as the screen indicated blank activity - no one had called her, no messages or indications of a congratulatory image. Just nothing.

"Figures," she breathed and tossed the mobile away back onto her mattress, her eyes darkening and her shadow expanding into a pool that slid and formed over her thin carpeting. Alone in her room, embarrassed, perhaps a little angry, her spirits hummed and droned in a ominous howl that crested into a soft cry of a wounded hound. It really shouldn't have bothered her, but in this circumstance it did, for when she lost her father and brothers it seemed that she lost her mother as well. The elder Abendroth had secluded herself to her home, living off of the credits supplied to her father's widow and the supplied sub-credits from her brothers' demise; since neither of them had wills or heirs, everything was proffered to the mother to shelter and shoulder with what strength she had left. Magdalena was grateful enough to keepsake their photos and memories, all mortal possessions had been burned during her mother's last fit of anguish when she just wanted to forget, and that was the last phone call she had ever received from that woman. It didn't bother her so much now that she had other objectives and goals to pursue in her Academic career, but moments of clarity were harsh in reflection when she bothered to compare herself against others in startling contrasts.

But now isn't the time, she thought, peeling off her negligee with delicacy as she puttered on back to her decimated shower. Now she had options, choices, things to accomplish and decisions to be theorized upon if she wanted to continue to prove herself. Magdalena contemplated under the hot spray, water in its cleansing properties sliding across her skin in familiar sensations. She tipped her face into the torrent, lifted her hands as if in penance to peel away the film of last nights' occurrences and the neglect of her mother's sorrow, to once again shelter the woe in her heart and allow her spirits to absorb such extremities. When she finally opened her eyes, darkness met them and she allowed it to be, because at least in the dark she was blind, and sometimes not seeing was better than witnessing the ugliness of her actual world.

---

It didn't take her long to properly access herself, she had done this nearly everyday since she came here, but now today was met with a new sense of excitement though it was subdued in her eyes as usual, her shadow however vibrated with the intensity of her withheld emotion. Now garnered in black that hung off her shoulders and her short locks pulled back lazily in a clip centred on her scalp, Magdalena could only hope that she wouldn't be signaled out or recognized by her rather impressive performance under that alcoholic haze. She sighed around the heaviness of her tongue as she shucked on boots and laced them tight to her ankles before daring the excavation from her dorm's security. The door creaked under the poor pressure of once-upon-a-time busted hinges and she swiftly locked it with a flick of her wrist that chimed with the familiarity of chakri that she donned with her thick, signature scarlet band. She pondered on where her friends were, having disbanded from the group as the night partied on until its peak of absolution and fulfillment, each of them seemed to gravitate to their own wants and agenda laid out for the evening and Magdalena had been no different. While remaining with them was natural and normal as the rising sun now blinding her cerulean oculus, she knew that each was unique in their individuality and that sometimes one had to embark from their closest friends in order to truly find themselves.

She figured that was how it had to be now, her eyes deciding to contemplate her ebony laces, graduation had come and gone. She had been offered, or rather it had been heavily suggested she invest towards the biological and technological weapon infrastructure now receiving lead way into development so as to combat the Xenomorph more effectively. These individuals wanted to utilize Guardians are pure weaponized units of harsh military, to not only train them in their usual exercises for The Cause, but to harness the most destructive means of their spirits into an actual mechanized machine. Magdalena wasn't entirely confident about the potential they advertised, after all she had been under their mercy once before when demonstrating Chaos for the first, and she hoped last, time. Her eyes flickered towards her palm, the scar that was a reminder constantly for when she impaled herself at their behest, she could have it removed completely and healed by her Light wielding companion, or her own natural healing abilities. But she had been adamant that it remain there, for her own masochistic means perhaps, though Magdalena had never given an out spoken reason for it.

She clenched her fingers until her knuckles bloomed white and she picked up her pace down the board walk, admiring the decorum of her school and the impressive oak tree where students were gathered around, nursing their own hang overs. Magdalena offered them mock salutes as she passed, her trajectory and mission was to gather some much needed food and avoid being seen before she committed herself entirely to the experimentation that was laid out before her. She wondered if maybe she should have discussed it with her friends, to gain advice from them; all of their harsh honesty's and opinions, their wills to speak out for themselves that she sometimes envied. She sighed quietly to herself and rubbed her fingers across the nape of her neck where some of her most tension gathered when she thought too much, over thinking about it wouldn't do her any good. So she attempted to banish the thoughts until a firm hand clapped over her thin shoulder.

"What in the hell —" she sputtered, spinning on her heel and facing her — oh.

The boy in front of her held up his hands in defense, his grin sheepish, embarrassed, perhaps a little devious in the way his shoulders bunched too.
"Look before you punch me, again, I just wanted to apologize. I had no idea you were so," he struggled for the word. "Violent." He shoved his hands through his brunette locks and whistled out a sigh, awkward in his stance. "I just thought, well, you were all over me—"

"I was not, I tripped. The fact that your lap was... there, is entirely irrelevant."
"That's not how I remembered it, err."

She folded her arms around her middle in agitation, her shadow pooling around her before shrinking and clamouring over her body, as if to embrace her as well. The male individual's eyes widened at witnessing it and his sneaker clad foot took a step back when he saw she didn't cast a normal shadow.

"What?" Her voice was neutral, monotone, her eyes darkened onto his visage when he continued to gape at the ground beneath her feet.
"Nothing, I just, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to grab you, like that. I didn't know..." His baritone faded out with the sharp summoning of the PA system, both of their eyes casting up as if to see the person whose voice was blaring through the speakers. Each name called out made her skin tingle, nerves firing in excitement until they flared out completely when her name was also tacked on to the list. Oh this was purely a blessing to save her from this awkward moment.

"Look, if you ever want to, you know?"

Her response was a solitary punch to his shoulder, spinning him out of the way as she promptly made headway towards the administration office, almost breaking into a jog as she sought to separate herself from the reminder of her embarrassment. But last night seemed far away and didn't matter, she had contemplated SWARG before they head of BATW sought her out once again, so to now be summoned for it and to be united with those she cherished most was another moment to savoir in their lives together. A small smile graced her features and her shadow spun in a wide circle before settling once again at her heels, a constant companion as always.

"I know," she spoke to it, reaching out her arm as it coiled across her hand and shoulder. "I'm happy it turned out this way as well."

—Morning—

The minutes ticked away faster than they normally did. There was no doubt that time was truly relative. Olivia thought the experience trite and banal. Why could time never appear slow when you needed it to? She had to convince herself that it was just a matter of her own perception, and that the minutes did not in actuality progress faster than normal.

Olivia dreaded the internal mechanisms of her own mind. She was well aware that its unison with her external visual aspect was null, and that speaking her mind at a discordant time and place could be out of place, perhaps even dangerous. Such was the nature of her continuous predicament regarding social endeavors, which was of particular importance when she was force to conspire with characters akin to Britney Farron. Olivia dreamt of the day when she would abscond the dreary bastille of Britney’s troupe, to which she was seemingly a slave in chains. However, Olivia had a talent for utilizing people of particular talents or who had access to invaluable assets. Britney’s physical presence had not even reached comfortable speaking distance between her and Olivia before she began to yap away about mindless topics.

“Isn’t that Thael?” Britney asked, rhetorically. The girl had taken notice of his sudden outburst of joy next to the cafeteria entrance.
“…Yes, you knew tha…” Olivia replied, but was interrupted mid-sentence.
“He is so hot. I would absolutely wreck him if he didn’t swing for the same team.”
“Control yourself, Britney.”
“What? He is hot. You think he is hot as well.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“….No.”
“Yes… Olivia, you do.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about… you dumb bitch.”
“You are so sweet when you try to be mean-cool, Olivia. That’s why I love you so much,” the materialistic blond said while scrolling through messages on her phone, not even looking at Olivia.
“Whatever…”
“Don’t you have to go?” Britney said and finally faced Olivia.
“...what?”
“They said your name in the speaker-thingy.”
Olivia was quite astounded that the girl had taken notice.
“Yeah, right…but, I’m getting a hotdog first. I don’t care if they court-martial me.”
“You should do what that guy did who waved at you,” Britney giggled.
“Who, Roy?—don’t get me started on him.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing… nothing is wrong with him,” Olivia said without any deeper intentions, but she slipped into contemplation nonetheless.

…He is careless... and… he is only motivated by elation……elation… …elation?… Roy is elation… He is an exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism… …disguising himself as a comic relief… …but in reality, he is a manipulative psychopath… …what’s wrong with Roy? Plenty… …but… why do I still care for him?... because… Sam did… … Sam cared for Roy… …but they were nothing alike… …or were they?... …have my memory of Sam faded to the point of not remembering his true nature?... …no, Sam could never be like Roy… …just…no…

The conversation between the girls ended when Olivia finally reached the counter and the unnaturally elated attendant. It didn’t matter which flavor or type of hotdog it was, as long as she could have one stuffed down her throat within the next few seconds. Britney was kind enough to pay for the coming feast, as the campus credit card had slipped her mind when she left her room. At the same time, Jyn caused quite a ruckus by violently embracing the floor with her body. The other students took note of it, but nobody seemed to help or care—the typical apathy you would get from hung over students. Olivia knew it wasn’t serious, but she approached her life-long friend nonetheless, with Britney Farron at her tail.

“You alright there, sweetie?” Olivia said to Jyn.
Britney’s shallow and materialistic personality was channeling right through and into Olivia’s words.
“Who is this?” Britney inquired.
“This is Jyn,” Olivia replied and helped the poor girl up on her feet.
“Wait, what? .... you know this catastrophe?” Britney said and eye-balled Jyn from top to toe.
“Uhm, yeah… we’re childhood friends.”
“Whatever. I have to find Stacey—see ya later, love ya,” Britney said and left the cafeteria.
After giving the blond a vicious stare, Olivia shifted her attention to Jyn.
“Don’t mind her, she’s an idiot. Come on, let’s go.”

The reception area to the administration offices on the 4th floor of building C was already cramped by the people they knew all too well. Olivia could not help but to notice how stylish some of them were, and how homeless she appeared in comparison—she had not taken a shower and she wasn’t wearing her uniform. The second thing that Olivia noticed was Kat and her diligent munching of hotdogs. Olivia was not prone to cursing. It just sounded strange when the frogs jumped out of her mouth, but there were—of course—exceptions to this habit, and the current situation was one of those exceptions. Roy and his annoying grind were unmistakable and unavoidable. He was clearly the man who had orchestrated this generosity, however less welcoming for Olivia—her mood quickly shifted from benevolent to murderous.

“Damn it, Roy! You could’ve said that you were bringing hotdogs here. You were right there at the Surfer, why didn’t you say anything?!” Olivia almost shouted in frustration. “You’re such a douchebag sometimes, do you know that?” She continued, face to face with boy. “Tsszh…,” she muttered and turned her back on him.

—WARG “Ceremony”—

A man emerged from the administration offices to greet the students and escort them inside. The entire south wall of the grand office, which they faced upon entering, was constructed out of glass—it presented a breathtaking view of Oakridge Academy, overlooking the town of Doral in the distance. In front of the windowed wall was an oblong, rectangular shaped table and behind it sat twelve men and women in expensive, full back support, office chairs made out of black leather. They did not introduce themselves, but Olivia and the rest knew that they were the respected, though dreaded Academy Council. The students were instructed to stand in a single line, facing the council and salute them. Next, a man emerged from a door on the other end of the room. It was the headmaster of Oakridge Military Academy—Cid Dysley. He was a former General of the Army with the Central Movement, who by disagreement with certain key figures was dishonorably discharged. As he began to address the students, a number of additional personnel emerged from the same room.

“My advisors tell me that you lot are some kind of team,” the general said. In his following pause, he proceeded to slowly walk back and forth in front of the students. The general trod from one end of the line to the other, closely inspecting each member. “They also tell me that when you people work together, your powers are greatly amplified,” the general stopped and leered at his science advisor: “but they cannot tell me why this is… for some reason beyond my suggested meek comprehension,” he said and continued his inspection. The science advisor’s cheeks blushed in modest embarrassment. Olivia and her friends knew the general on a personal level, but they realized that this was a formal initiation, and that the good headmaster was required to ignore private affections and assume his role as the supreme commander of the academy.

“The Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group is not joke,” the general said and eye balled the bro-force in particular: “It is not a time for recklessness, nor is it a time for childish behavior,” he continued, still primarily addressing the friends who were prone to beating each other up more than the enemy. “We are a covert military force, and we do not disclose our operations to the public or any official institution. All the details are present in the documents that you are required to read as part of your initiation,” the general said. He ended his inspection and formally addressed the whole group: “By the forces beyond our comprehension and all those brave souls that came before us, I hereby declare each and every one of you initiated,” the general said and saluted the group, which in turn saluted the general back. A man approached the general with a red-silk embedded pillow that had WARG badges pinned to it. The badges were for ceremonial purposes only and not actually used in the field. The badge icon depicted two great wolf heads howling at each other on either side of an unsheathed sword. The general proceeded to hand out the badges.

“The techs have uploaded the WARG-application to your cell phones. This device has numerous functions: communications, requisitions, and surveillance. Through the open message board, you will be able to send and receive messages from other units in the field and the administration. The closed message board is only for your unit and the administration. The mission board will display the specifics of your current mission, as well as optional objectives—while you are not required to complete the optional objectives in a mission, they can sometimes prove invaluable to your efforts. You can requisition weapon upgrades and item supplies through the application as well, but as they are dropped by air, they are considerably more expensive than what the items would be at local shops. The administration also monitors your progress in the mission, as well as in combat, through the application and through a surveillance drone that will follow you in the field. Olivia, who will be the team leader of this unit, has an extended version of the WARG-application, which allows her to call in air-strikes, area blackouts, and other military-grade actions. However, nothing is for free in this world and these actions will cost you a truck load of credits, so use them wisely.” The General instructed.

When the general was finished with handing out the badges, he addressed the group again:

“We apologize for this somewhat informal and hasty initiation, but rest assured that it’s not without cause….,” the general said and paused for a moment, walking over to the windowed wall to gaze at the scenery in contemplation. “Norton City is under siege by the sovereignty of Nautilus. We don’t know why or how it happened, but it’s happening right now. And since we have a protection treaty with Norton City, we have to act… and we have to act immediately. This is why this ceremony was rushed; this is why we are sending you… all of you, to deal with this problem,” the General said. The Academy Council nodded in silence and agreement with the General’s words.

“You have twenty minutes to gear up and meet Field Marshall Sawyer at the main gate before you depart, he has the specifics… dismissed,” one of the shadowy Academy Council members uttered.

—After Ceremony—

Once they were outside the administration offices again, Olivia wasn’t sure what or how she felt. Taking care of her friends, being their sister and mother rolled up into one was one thing, but giving them orders in the heat of battle? She wasn’t sure if she could do that. It was as if they had all been hit by a freight train at maximum speed. There was so much to be said, but there was no time for it.

“Well, you heard them….,” Olivia said with a slightly trembling voice. “Gear up… and, uhm… do whatever you have to do, call someone… make arrangements…whatever,” she continued. They knew that this wasn’t a joke. They knew that they were about to step into the real world where a myriad of things would sincerely attempt to end their lives. This was it. This was the real deal. No turning back now.

"Umm, not be a huge bother, or anything, and, you know, I'm the LAST person to cause a fuss and what not, but, umm," Freddy paused, then pointed at Puck and glared, "You owe me a fucking hot dog! I never got time to grab one myself and arrived LATE to that meeting because my shitmongering history teacher had to rant and rave and shriek about how his stupid freaking suit was a gift from his grandfather or whatever. Then he went on to talk about how I of all people should understand ancestral gifts because of my heritage, which you all might note is freaking racist as hell considering my freaking GRANDPARENTS were born in the US! I forget what type of asian I'm even supposed to BE! So thanks to your hilarious knee slapper of a prank, I'm unfed and unshowered. I'm going to rush to grab my shower, but you give me a freaking hotdog you manic freaking fairy."

Freddy paused, then glanced at Thael, "No offense. Umm, from the gay jokes. I'm just using them as vague insults and whatnot. Hell, I called him manic and that's kind of my deal anyways."

He then rounded back at Puck, "Which reminds me! Have you even looked into a therapist? I have been working myself to the bone finding people willing to work with freaking US, explaining to them that technically we aren't held to the same standards of mental health as the rest of the military, explaining that our powers won't just explode on them if we start crying or whatever, and I've found a few unqualified DIPSHITS and nothing else! You haven't, have you?"

Freddy put his hands on his waist, glaring daggers at Puck, angry over something completely different from the prank now, "Sweet lord Satan, Puck. Your mental health is important to us! Will you not please just put forth a token effort at taking care of it!?"

Freddy made sure not to look at Thael. He wasn't sure he could keep talking seriously to Puck if he thought about Thael. Thael. Tall, strong, handsome Thael. Kind, somewhat narrow-minded but undeniably good Thael. Freddy swore the man was born in a superman outfit, and looked freaking adorable in it.

To say Freddy had a crush on him would be a vast understatement. It had started a few years ago and he'd been smitten ever since.

Of course, he yelled at Thael when he screwed up all the same. He loved ALL of them. Like hell the one he got a boner for would be off the hook.

Before Kimberly could follow his friends out of the office, his superiors stopped him to remind Kimberly that he needed to check in with his doctor before departure. “Yes sir,” Kimberly saluted and left the room. For a while, the group walked down the halls together until each friend had to scatter into different directions to get prepared for their upcoming mission. During their relatively short walk, the old childhood friends started to get into their usual positions.

As long as Kimberly could remember, the group had a certain way of walking when they were together: everyone had a “spot” they naturally drifted to; a place they fit into, like a puzzle piece. Although some of the pieces never moved from its original space, Kimberly had watched most of the pieces move gradually across board. Regardless of where they landed, they always “fit”. If there was any place on the board that no one could ever fill up again, it was in the front. The empty space where Samuel used to be. Kimberly knew this, because he was one of the pieces that never moved: he was that one guy in the back of the group. However large or small the group was, Kimberly walked a few steps away from the bulk. Close enough to be there when his friends needed him, to watch out for every back in front of him, and far away enough that people around them would think that “that Faye boy” had nothing to do with the gang. His dear friends had their own set of problems and rumors, they didn’t need to burden themselves with Kimberly’s. Even to this day, there was the occasional person who would go out of their way to warn his friends and/or legal guardian(s) about Kimberly’s “bad influences”. He didn’t blame these people, though. They only wanted to help. Kimberly was the crazy son of a bloodthirsty killer and a suicidal maniac who only failed to become a murder because her child survived: of course he was pure evil. Bwahaha! …It was just better for Kimberly to keep a certain amount of distance away from his friends in public, for their sake. It may have been even better if he just stopped seeing them altogether, but Kimberly was not selfless enough to do that. He never was and never will be. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted friends, a family. He wanted to feel accepted. He was probably taking advantage of them. He used them to fill up the sense of loneliness. If that was the case, it was only fair that they used him as well.

Kimberly started to slow down his walking pace, as the group got closer to one of the hallway intersections. He abruptly announced that he had to see his doctor, then turned the corner. After taking a few steps, Kimberly retreated back to the intersection. He looked down at the floor for a moment, before fixing his gaze to the group, “bye.” Mm… mmm! Isn’t that the most silvery-est silver tongue I have ever seen! …Heard. Fascinating. Just fascinating.

---

The doctor’s office was as generic, minimalistic, and uncomfortable as any medical room Kimberly had ever been in. The overuse of white and the burnish of the unblemished clinical instruments blinded the eyes. Everything in the room lacked any form of warmth. The furniture and large equipment were either in the shape of rectangles or squares. In conclusion, it was an artistically unimpressive room with no sense of character or life. Not that a doctor’s office needed either… And Kami, that smell! The distinct smell of medical supplies continued to irritate Kimberly’s nostrils throughout his visit to the doctor’s office. “I’ll keep this short. I know you only have a few minutes with me.” Dr. Perth cut to the chase, “how are you feeling?”
“Fine, mam.”
“Have any hallucinations recently?”
“I… had one this morning, mam.”
“Did you take the medication I prescribed to you?”
“Yes, mam.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes, mam.”
“Is it still working?”

Kimberly paused for a moment, eyeing his roommate walking around the office as if he was bored out of his mind. “Mostly.” Dr. Perth scrutinized Kimberly, “is it ‘him’?” When Kimberly nodded in response, the doctor’s expression told him she was perplexed by the situation. “Interesting,” she simply said, refraining from giving her opinion on the matter. Dr. Perth started to take some notes.

“They… know about this… right?”
“Excuse me?”
“They… the… Academy Council…”
“Yes they do know about your condition.”
“Then… why?”
“Why…?”
“Did they… choose me? I’m… not,” Kimberly tried to come up with the appropriate word.
“Bat s**t crazy?” Kimberly’s roommate suggested.
“Well,” Kimberly finally said.

Dr. Perth’s writing hand halted midsentence. She sighed and placed her pen to the side to give her full attention to her patient. “Have you ever taken a class about sensation and perception?” Kimberly didn’t know where this conversation came from, but nodded regardless. The doctor continued, “then you should know that we experience the external environment through what our senses can detect. If a person can’t sense something, then in that person’s world, that something doesn’t exist. That doesn’t mean that ‘that something’ truly doesn’t exist at all, does it? Most people can’t see spirits, but they exist. Just because we both learned that this,” Dr. Perth touched her golden watch, “is the color gold, does not mean we actually see the same color. We just learned to call this specific color, gold. In short, every person perceives the world in their own way.”

“Are you trying… to convince me… that… the army of samba dancers… are actually real people doing an interpretive dance… that is secretly a pro-environmental musical?”
“Is that what you saw this morning?”
Kimberly hesitated, “yes, mam… but… I think they were just plant spirits... maybe some earth spirits too.”

“Huh.” After a long pause, the doctor finally asked, “have you ever thought that perhaps ‘he’ is not just a result of damaged brain or irregular neurotransmitter activity?” When Kimberly did not give her a response, Dr. Perth smiled, “what I am trying to say is that, despite all these medical exams, we are still not sure what is actually causing your hallucinations… I wouldn’t call yourself bat s**t crazy, just yet.”

---

Kimberly stopped dead in his tracks when he started to hear familiar samba music coming from the direction of the main gate. For a moment, he expected to see the same performers from earlier that morning, but when nothing came, Kimberly advanced toward the source of the sound. At a bench near the main gate were two old women and a little angle. The woman with bright colorful clothing, also known as Michaela Appleberry, was sitting on the bench, next to the radio, clapping her hands as she watched her “wife”, Clair Appleberry, in a pastel colored dress dancing with a baby. Kimberly approached his family, “Nana, Maw maw.”

The two ladies greeted their grandchild with hugs and kisses. The baby’s cooing shifted Kimberly’s attention to his daughter in his granfa---…mother’s arms. As soon as Clair passed Samuela Jolee Faye to the giant, his beard and hair proceeded to perform phagocytosis on the little giggling ray of sunshine. Considering that she was cute enough to make anyone want to gobble her up, phagocytosis may not have been too far from the truth. Kimberly didn’t care that his daughter drooled all over him or pulled out a tiny fist full of hair just for her own cruel amusement, he planted hundreds of kisses all over her face: something that he knew he would not be able to do once Sam turned five or six... or whenever girls typically turned self conscious. It almost made Kimberly wish she would never grow up, although she would undoubtedly become a gorgeous woman with turquoise eyes and strawberry blond hair. Boys ---or girls--- would flock to her and Kimberly would have to fend them off until finally, one day, Sam would get angry with him and run off with her first love. Thank Kami, Sam didn't inherit anything from him… Imagine the amount of hair.

“I thought... you’d be half way to Helston by now… Didn’t you say you’d be leaving… yesterday?”
“We lied, obviously.”
“Obviously.”

---

Hearing that their grandson and their unofficial grandchildren were highly likely to be initiated into SWARG, prior to graduation, the Appleberry’s decided to delay their return to Helston to see the party off if and when they should receive their first military assignment. Knowing that they would not be able to bring the actual presents with them on the mission, the Appleberry’s had given out everyone’s graduation gifts during graduation and instead, packed lunch for the group’s trip to Norton City. “We had to bribe Cid to allow us to give this to you guys and gals. Can you believe it?” Clair laughed, “Love and I made sure to put in everyone’s favorite food, so you better not waste any of it, do you hear? Especially the vegetables. Let me know how it tastes like.” This probably meant Clair grew something experimental and wanted to know its affects on people. Luckily everyone knew that Clair would not use something that was life threatening in the lunch. At most it was going to taste really nasty.

When the time for departure came, the Appleberry’s kissed and bear hugged everyone goodbye. Sam could not do either, but instead gave a sweet smile that distracted most of her father’s friends away from the significant amount of saliva sample she stealthily managed to get on everyone. Kimberly’s family stood at the main gate, waving at their grandchildren until they completely disappeared from view.

Emily had done it. They all had. This was the best outcome she could have hoped for: Joining the WARG, with all her friends, immediately after graduation. She should be happy, they all should, but all she felt was a sort of bare relief. She had met her own expectations, for once. It wasn't the joy she'd imagined. Curious, she tried to glance around the room without moving too perceptibly; but all she could see were the backs of the other's heads, and the serious eyes of the headmaster.

They were a team, that much was true. And they did fight well together. But the burden of having to protect her friends, let alone following their orders... that was terrifying. But maybe she would have been terrified anyway. Maybe that was the way you were supposed to feel, when you were joining the WARG.

It was definitely how you were supposed to feel at the moment you were being shipped out, but to Emily's mind, that was supposed to be because you were worried about getting killed. That wasn't what she was afraid of. She could take care of herself; she knew, in the back of her mind, that whatever else happened, she was safe. The spirits wanted her alive, they needed her alive... neither she nor they would allow otherwise.

But the others - what would this be like for them? How could they possibly be prepared, even with all their years at the Academy, even with all the training, for what was coming? In twenty minutes, they were supposed to be ready to go and fight. Olivia was supposed to be ready to lead; Emily could scarcely believe Olivia had even been chosen to head up their team. She would have put money on almost any of the others (well, maybe not Freddy. But almost any of the others).

As they filed out of the room, Emily gripped the WARG badge gently with her left hand. It felt cool and smooth. She was struck with an urge to throw it away and run, an urge managed to ignore. She could hear the whispers of the spirits, always just outside her range of hearing, and she wondered what they made of all this, if they were even cognizant of it at all. It always seemed as if they were watching her, but whether they actually were, or it was merely her mind's attempts to comprehend some lower level of influence, she had no idea.

She listened to Olivia's stunned attempt at giving orders. She called her father. Their conversation was short and muted. He congratulated her, but she knew there was no pleasure in his voice. He thought she was being sent to die. She assured him she'd call again as soon as she could. He asked when that would be. She didn't know. She dressed in her newly-issued combat uniform. It felt starchy and dry, but it was flexible enough, and hopefully more protective than her usual training outfits. It had sheaths for her batons.

Emily was at the main gates with two minutes to spare, in body, if not in mind.

Kat spent the rest of the time they had remaining before the meeting stared finishing off her hot dog. They were every bit as good as everyone said, despite being a little cold. She wondered for a moment how they got them to taste so good, but then decided it wasn't worth knowing. Hot dogs always kind of skeeved her out anyway. She wasn't even truly sure what kind of meat they were supposed to be. Her mind wandered, pondering just how messed up the ingredients could be before the taste was no longer worth it. She decided somewhere around dog meat was where she drew the line.

She walked in with the rest of her friends as they were called to the meeting. It ended up being just what she imagined for the most part. A boring, short speech and some badges with the weird Academy Council overseeing the whole thing. Kat's mind was elsewhere for most of the meeting. Her eyes fixed forward, all she had to do was salute when everyone else did and she'd be golden. It was pretty much second nature anyway.

She checked back in around the time they were given their first assignment. This was the important part anyway. It was surprising to hear that they'd be heading out right away. She thought they'd have a bit more time here, at least a day. It was slightly irritating, as she had planned on spending the night with Tyler again, but it was no use being upset about it.

Kat left the meeting feeling, most likely, less conflicted about the whole thing than anyone else. She had already accepted their new positions and was ready to get started. She wasn't worried about fighting, dying, or anything really. This was what they had spent the majority of their lives preparing for. She'd be damned if that time went to waste not being nearly killed.

One thing that did stick in her mind for awhile though, was the appointment of Olivia as team leader. She was a fine choice, but wouldn't have been Kat's first. She'd probably put Thael or Remi above her, if only just a little. She thought about mentioning it as they all left, but then realized Olivia probably had enough going through her head. The last thing she needed was any more doubt.

Her thoughts were broken as she walked out by some moderate yelling. Moderate by Freddy's standards at least. He was yelling at Puck about... did it really matter? He was always yelling at someone for something. He then turned his attention to Thael for a moment to apologize and his demeanor changed. It was a slight change, but Kat had been listening. His tone was softer, again by Freddy standards. Kat smiled to herself. Freddy's crush was cute, and a great way for her to mess with him.

Kat walked past the three. She turned her head towards Freddy as she walked by, running her fingers delicately under his chin as she did so.

"If things don't work out with him, give me a call," She said with a slight giggle and a smirk.

She continued on towards her room to gather her gear. In a rush again. The military really liked deadlines. She reached her room and gathered up her gear. Her new uniform made her feel more official, at least. She noticed she had a sheath on her back for her sword and another on her hip for her knife.

Her spirits gently faded in and out of visibility as she walked down the halls of the Academy for what would probably be the last time.

It was the morning after graduation and unlike the majority of students that he passed on the way to the training room, Aaron wasn't nursing a hangover. Oh he had his fun and drank his fill but that was it, he only drank his fill. As was the norm for most of his tenure here at Oakridge, he woke up early, went through his morning routine, and headed to the training rooms that would pit him against virtual opponents for morning combat practice. As he walked down the largely empty hallway to combat practice Aaron couldn't help but think about his time with his friends here at Oakridge. Since he was young Aaron had always wanted to join the military to settle his own personal vendettas against the creatures that had taken the most important things in his life.

The doors to the training hall opened with a quiet hiss and Aaron went to work setting up the simulation that he wanted to train on, a process that he had done for years and had since up the difficulty every time that he had mastered a certain level. Aaron reached for the weapon cabnet and strapped on the twin short blades that he had come to master. As he unsheathed them he took a moment to inspect the blade, searching for imperfections and nicks that might impede him at the speeds that he would be moving. Once again, as it had been for years prior, the blades were in pristine condition with no noticeable flaws what so ever. Just as he was about to engage the simulation a call went out over the intercom system, which Aaron didn't pay much attention to until the last name was called. His name. There was only one thing that could mean. He was going to have to haul ass to make it, but he had to.

Aaron barreled down the halls at high speeds, running into and knocking aside, anyone that got in his way. Even though he heard the insults and complaints of those that he went through, Aaron kept running his way in, through and around people, he just had to get to the admin building. As everyone was starting to file their way into the conference hall Aaron just walked into the office and quickly and quietly moved in line with the rest of group.
================================================================================

The 'ceremony' was short and sweet, just like Aaron had hoped. The immediate assignment had been a bonus to Aaron, it wasn't against the aliens but it would be a good start. Gripping the badge in his hand Aaron began to shake, not from fear of the upcoming trials and tribulations, but for excitement that he could finally put his school knowledge into real world practice. His inner musings were cut short by the all to familiar shouting of Freddy going on one of his famous rampages. Even though he was screaming at Puck for whatever humorous thing he did Aaron noticed that he would keep making quick glances at Thael. Aaron let out an audible chuckle, everyone knew that Freddy had an infatuation with Thael but only Aaron found his awkwardness of it funny. Suddenly his mind slipped to his own crush, his new commander Olivia.

Aaron stole a quick glance at Oliva, he could see that she was obviously shaken by the announcement that she was to be the groups leader. He could only imagine what she could be feeling. A comment from Kat brought Aaron back to Freddy's predicament, her sly comment to Freddy sparked something in Aaron that he simply couldn't ignore,

"Aww, whats the matter Fred? Is someone that he got glitterbombed this morning and missed breakfast?"

In the midst of a crowd in which eyes strung down towards the scene of embarrassment, Jyn could only hope a spark of laughter wouldn't spread like wildfire across the entire cafeteria. Of course, Jyn wouldn't actually care of what people might think about her and the clumsiness she demonstrated but if it would be a vast number of people, that might be out of question. In her mind, there was an urge to just try and run away directly towards her dorm room where she could solemnly erase the things she just committed on the certain hour. And the other was that to wait for someone to reach her a helping hand in which nobody attempted to try. Jyn was actually hoping for the second option to occur and after seconds of spending down on the floor, she couldn't actually muster up some comments of what kind of horrendous people they were to just stand and watch some unfortunate girl who was pleading for help to get out from the horrible situation being faced.

Luckily, Olivia wasn't one of them and as delighted Jyn felt from having to see her despite the cruel gazes of the crowd, she happened to crook up a smile once she stepped in before her along with a girl whom she clearly wasn't familiar to. Obviously, the girl beside Olivia wasn't in a very good mood to be in the favor of giving concerns, so she scurried away just before Olivia could give Jyn a helping hand. As Jyn stood up, there was a slight pinch of pain aching from her right leg. One which she received from hesitating to eat but that actually was a lesson she just learned from recklessness and then she promised herself not to do it again, for now at least.

Sighing heavily, Jyn turned her eyes over to Olivia. "Thanks Olive," Jyn paused for a brief moment as she twitched her right leg sideways to ease off the pain. Luckily, it wore off quickly and managed to give her a good sturdy stand. "I'm sorry if I dragged you into all this. I forgot how clumsy I can be when I'm hungry" She smiled sheepishly before turning into a soft laughter of glee and right after ending her appreciations, she quickly remembered the announcement in which her, or rather, their names were mentioned. It was a perfect time to ask since now Olivia was intact to hopefully answer some of Jyn's questions. She then cleared her throat to start smoothly. "By the way, I did hear our names mentioned in the PA system. I was unable to hear the rest since I stumbled over...recklessly." Again, Jyn paused. Still retrospecting her inelegant actions. "So, do you mind telling me why?"

Jyn's stomach released a very nasty groan before she could even get an answer from Olivia. Her hunger was almost unbearable to withstand and her careless 'tripping over' just made everything much worse to the point where she could just end up collapsing. The headache did subside into a distorting ambiance but it was still flourishing with it's intolerable existence. Jyn desperately needed food. It would be much more pleasing if it would be served hot and now that she deviated from the line, there wasn't any hope of a miracle which she would imagine happening.
________________________________________________________________

After Ceremony

Intimidated from the first several minutes of the general's speech and the hasty call for preparation, It wouldn't be a surprise if Jyn might actually commit a klutzy mistake and be left behind once everyone gets ready. Her first hangover was pretty much overwhelming which made her forget a substantial amount of things. First, it was her foster brother but there might actually be some few considerations since Lance Greyson matured greatly and it had been several years since she was away from him, not to mention his incredibly unfamiliar voice. Second, and most of all the one she would fear the most, is that her uniform and where it was placed. She wasn't even certain about what others were talking about as the ceremony ended and whatever shenanigans they might be planning ahead. But overall, after realizing each and every one of her closest friends were involved in the mission, Jyn felt there was a great ascension of progress towards the goals she planned along at the academy. It wouldn't be more rewarding to know she was among the chosen ones.

However, just after everyone departed for preparations, Jyn's mind sank through a deep abyss of panic. Clearly she had no idea of what to do next, perhaps she might consider first on calling Lance Greyson for the recent news. But actually, she thought it might disrupt him from his university life and she was actually told he was the one who will be calling her instead. However though, finding her uniform wherever it was placed was a much more important matter and Jyn would've reckoned on taking actions towards it as soon as possible.

Sighing deeply, Jyn started pacing to her dorm in a hope of readying herself if ever she finishes in time and much better, before than everyone else. "So much for resting after waking up terribly" She muttered silently, hoping her slight ramble wouldn't be heard by anyone as she wanted to pertain a positive outlook towards the mission.

♥♦♣♠ — WARG Ceremony — ♠♣♦♥
When Roy feels guilty, it's never because he hurt someone or that he did something wrong in the first place—this excluding doing his friends wrong, most of the time—it's mostly due to the fact that he'd been caught in the first place. Teachers kept drilling the, 'Do you see the consequences your actions have?' thing into him and the only consequences they were pointing to was that getting caught equaled getting punished. Roy blanked out at, 'You're hurting people,' or, 'You throw people under the bus for your enjoyment.'

Which was the exact reason for the blank face he couldn't suppress at Freddy's rambling. Roy knew perfectly well that there was something off about how he thought, to the point that he may not be perfectly sane; that was the fun in it. Sociopaths were bland, psychos were too much to handle, and average people were invisible. Roy lay in the middle of all that, with a flurry of flaws that made him who he was. He had tendencies, but he was never the real deal. Moral obligations and societal standards weren't a foreign thing to him, he just chose not to adhere to them most of the time. No one knew better than him that he thought some of the things he did were morally wrong. He was selfish and rude; he was careless to the point where others suffered from it; he saw people as tools for him to use and sheep to herd; if he wanted something he went to whatever lengths to get it. And his excuse? Roy knew none of it mattered in the long run. Whether he helped someone or not, fate would simply repay them in kind: bring pain where love was given or give love where pain was wrought. It was meaningless, all of it was meaningless. Call him a pessimist, a skeptic, jaded, whatever, but everyone lived and everyone died. His sister lived not for a fraction of time. His sister died and would be dead until the universe faded away. But, Roy was too active to sit and wait for things to end and wanted too much to let it all fade away without a bang. None of his actions were genuine, whether they seemed malicious or benevolent. He did what he did to do them and to gain a weird satisfaction from having done them. That's what kept Roy moving: the satisfaction and enjoyment. Because what mattered less than an individual's joy in something?

So, when they were finally lined up in the office, in front of the most powerful people on campus, the only thing running through Roy's mind was what he'd done wrong enough to warrant this. What heinous prank or swindle had he pulled to get every one of his friends gathered into a room with the big shots, the people who ran the Academy itself. The relief that he'd suspected wrong only ever washed over him when he stepped out. Authority figures and Roy would never mix, not in a million years and definitely not if he'd become one himself.

As the officials talked, mainly just Cid, Roy's stare drifted ever so slowly to the side, just to gauge his friend's reactions—mostly to see if they were surprised that Roy hadn't been called up just to get called out on something stupid he'd done while drunk. He was still intently listening just to see if Cid would look at him, tell him he was there for a different reason, and that reason being that he was in deep dog... feces. But, when Cid got to him with the WARG badge, the man intently stared at him, waiting for him to grab his own and silently reprimanding him for not being in uniform, like he'd been given enough time to do so. Well, technically he had. Of course, he was the only one to have his outfit scrutinized, despite the fact that Thael was practically the only one formally dressed for the occasion. Though, Roy took it gingerly, smiled sheepishly at Cid, and looked himself over. He frowned at his split second dress up, his shirt was a tad too big and his pants had visible stains he couldn't quite identify. At least, it didn't smell terrible.

♥♦♣♠ — Afterwards — ♠♣♦♥
It seemed very keenly that everyone poked fun at Freddy's harmless crush. It also seemed like everyone but the object of Freddy's affections knew, as well. Why people pined after other people who were taken or simply out of their reach was beyond Roy, but he could see why the particular person had been Thael: he was a catch and who better to have caught him than Roy. Though, Roy was, like anyone else, a hypocrite. But, honestly, Roy was probably not the first person on people's minds when they thought of Thael's significant other. Hell, he'd not thought of it either, but it happened. Something like that, where the douchebag got the boy next door and the nice guy, however loud and obnoxious he was, was left on the sidelines to pine and admire, never ended well in a lot of situations—movie situations, mostly. Hopefully, Freddy was a good enough sport not to be as devious and manipulative as he could be. Roy was positive that if he'd been in Freddy's situation, he'd have done anything in his power just to get into Thael's pants, not because he relished in people's pain or suffering, but because Thael was a catch that he wanted. Who got hurt in the process wasn't any of his business.

However, Freddy wasn't at all like him and it was painfully obvious in the way that he cared about everyone, even Roy, the guy who kinda came out of the left field to steal Thael away. So, he kept the taunting and joking to as much of a minimum for him as he could.

When Aaron and Kat jabbed at Freddy, he simply smiled, gave the guy a pat on the back and said, "I'll look into a therapist, for you... I guess. But, it'll have to wait until we get some respite, bud."

Afterwards, Roy turned to Thael, knowing full well what was currently running through his mind. The moment they'd announced who would lead and command the team, Roy had snapped his head toward Olivia and then Thael to see the literal glow from his face vanish in that instant. He was certainly not one for PDA, but Roy did his best to get over the social awkwardness it entailed. He wrapped his arms around the big lug, knowing full well he was currently at a disadvantage height wise. Moments like these called for being a silent confidant, his head resting against Thael's back, smelling the freshness of Thael's uniform mixed in with his natural scent. Roy closed his eyes and tightened his hold, bunching some of the fabric in his hands as he breathed into him.

"Let's grab some ice cream, Goldie" he mumbled loud enough for Thael to hear him, "We have enough time; I'll go get dressed. We'll meet in the front gate?"

Thael was back to the dorms and into the shower in all of 30 seconds, through the shower in 2 minutes, had his uniform on perfectly in 3, and arrived at the administration offices with 2 minutes to spare. His friends were, for the most part, didn’t feel the need to be quite so polished on such short notice, but Thael couldn’t help himself. Eight minutes ago, he’d been covered in sweat and dressed for exercise, but now, not a single hair was out of place, literally. His uniform was immaculate: his shirt was freshly starched, his boots were so shiny you could see your reflection, his tie was perfectly positioned, the seams of his pants were crisp, not so much as a whisker marred his complexion, and his beret was on at precisely the right jaunty angle.

He made sure everything was still in place one last time just before he came around the corner to the headmaster’s office. The first thing he saw was Roy standing by the secretary’s desk with an impish grin on his face, a plate of hotdogs beside him. The sight of the hotdogs prompted a slight growl from his stomach, reminding him he hadn’t eaten yet. “You’re a lifesaver, Puckins” he whispered as he pulled Roy into a close embrace. “I’m so glad we both made it.” He grabbed a hotdog and wolfed it down almost instantly.

“You’re glowing” Roy replied, the same impish grin still glued to his face. He seemed in an exceptionally good mood. Thael looked down and found that he was indeed gently radiating gold light; sometimes his spirits got caught up in his emotions. He clamped down on his enthusiasm, and the glow diminished.

Olivia was next to arrive, a little cranky this morning, and Thael winced internally. Putting up with Britney Farron for that long was bound leave anyone irritated. “Hey Liv,” he greeted her, placing an arm around her shoulder and giving her a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry, I should’ve rescued you from Britney back at the Windsurfer, but then the announcement...anyways, I guess congratulations are in order!”

It wasn’t until Freddy arrived, covered in glitter, that Thael finally understood what had Roy in such a good mood. Their diminutive friend stumbled in muttering curses, and Roy’s grin grew from impish to positively diabolical. Thael shook his head wearily sometimes he just wished Puck would learn just the tiniest bit of self restraint, especially towards Freddy. Thael really appreciated how much work Freddy was putting into keeping an eye on their collective mental health. The standard channels weren’t really meant to deal with a situation quite like this, so Freddy was going farther afield. That being said, the two of them disagreed about the best approach with Roy. Thael kept insisting that direct pressure was the wrong approach, but Freddy prefered to approach the matter in a way that couldn’t be evaded. Thael frowned slightly; this was not the approach they’d agreed on, he’d have to talk to Freddy about that later, but for now...

“Here bud, consider it a peace offering.” Thael said amicably, offering the plate of hotdogs, then wrapping Freddy in a big hug. “Congrats! Guess we’ll be stuck with eachother a while longer eh?” Thael was, of course, completely oblivious to Freddy’s feelings. It would take something fairly substantial to clue him in.

Mag’s arrived in ample time, perfectly dressed of course. Even in all their years together, Thael wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the slim blonde looking anything less than perfect. He considered going in for a hug, despite the risk of feedback, but looking closely he noticed Mag’s spirits were especially active today, draping her in flickering shadows that didn’t seem to care much for the laws of optics. With his own spirits glowing on his skin, Thael decided today was not the day to push it.

They made an odd pair, facing eachother in the hall, one wreathed in shadows, one bathed in light. The feedback had only become problematic a few years ago, after that day in the lab when Mag had unleashed her full potential. Now, whenever they got too close, their spirits began to crackle and let loose stray bolts of energy. When they did touch, it was thoroughly unpleasant. To Thael, Magdelena was ice cold, so cold it hurt and seemed to suck the life out of him. Apparently for Mag, Thael burned with the heat of the sun. Both had sufficient control of their spirits that it didn’t affect their combat dynamic, but it was generally better if they avoided casual touching. “You have fun last night Mag?” he asked. He felt it was important for her to have fun once in a while.

------------WARG Ceremony--------

As they filed into the office, Thael couldn’t help himself, and he began glowing in earnest as excitement bubbled in his chest. Thirteen years of his life had led to this moment. He saluted sharply to the academy council, rigidly maintaining his place in line. He kept his head high and eyes forward as General Dysley entered. Thael had the utmost respect for Cid Dysley. The man had an incredible record of brilliant field command, and while politics had removed him from the field and brought him to Oakridge, Thael thought there could be no better use of the man’s talents than teaching the next generation of soldiers.

As the WARG badge was pinned to his chest, even Thael’s years of discipline couldn’t suppress his absolute joy. A smile cracked through his formal ‘at attention’ mask, and the light of his spirits became almost blinding for a second, before he sternly brought them back under control. Even so, they continued to illuminate him slightly.

But then General Dysley announced Olivia would be the commanding officer of their unit. Well not so much ‘announced’ it as ‘casually mentioned’ it. The shimmering lights winked out, and Thael’s face returned to it’s disciplined mask. Olivia was the logical choice, really. She was hardworking, smart, innovative, and she’d kept their group together for years, through thick and thin. She deserved this, Thael tried to convince himself. A good soldier accepts the decisions of his superiors, he told himself. He tried paying attention to the rest of the briefing, but a little voice in the back of his head kept saying why not me?

----------Afterwards---------

Thael did his best to keep his disappointment hidden. He didn’t want to undermine Olivia’s authority before they even got into the field, but it was hard. He kept thinking back to that one simulation that had gone so poorly. Was that it? Was that the reason he hadn’t even been considered?

He began to think back over every mistake he’d made in the past 10 years, not really paying attention to his friends, digging into every mistake and fault until he convinced himself he’d never been worthy. A sudden application of pressure on his back brought his attention back to the present. Roy. Other might consider their relationship odd, or a bad match. Thael with his endless kindness, boundless optimism and undying faith in people was in stark contrast to Roy’s cynical, casual disregard for others. But Thael tried his best to see the good in everyone, and in Roy he saw a troubled man with a great capacity for love, and a nose for trouble. Thael managed to genuinely smile as he replied. “Sounds good Puckins, I’ll come with you.”