Chapter 213
Seasadh MacMhunna walked down the hall with all the other scions of the noble families and tried to repress her exuberance.
She had fought for this opportunity amongst the peers of her lineage and hade out on top after all of the tests and challenges. They didnt look just forbat prowess when selecting the candidates, though that was certainly part of it. Puzzle and problem-solving skills, personality, athleticism, test scores, and a dozen other things she couldnt quite im to understand were all evaluated as part of the process.
But now it was <em>here</em>, and she could hardly wait.
The Founders Armory was an <em>ancient</em> creation, from the early days of the ns themselves, and had been the handiwork of the Founders firstborn and one of her races <em>progenitors</em>.
It was a ce of legends, and the birthce of countless more. Every year, the best dwarven children from across the entire realm- or close enough, anyway- were allowed entry into the armory, where they were presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.
Even the halls they walked through on their way to the Armory itself were magnificent, far grander than her n leaders'' descriptions had led her to believe. He said they were grand and impressive, conjuring thoughts of gems and precious metals, but how wrong she was.
The halls were seemingly simple affairs of stone, metal, and wood, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. Materials blended together so seamlessly, she couldnt quite tell where the stone turned into wood until it was already blending into the metal further down the hall.
And that was only the backdrop.
On the walls, a little higher than head height, were the murals.
She recognized each from her history lessons.
The first was the story of The Founder giving life to the Dwarves.
The Second Sun was also pictured, repairing their central star by recing it with his personal forge after a battle during the Shattering had destroyed the first one.
Another depicted Vercatus single-handedly holding back an army of indistinct enemies while missing an arm, then the next mural pictured him again, forging his Goldhand from the grandest natural treasures.
The next showed Reg sacrificing herself to take down a dragon who had tried to burn a city.
On and on, her ancestors were represented in the murals, and she was astounded at their proud legacy.
The legacy of a people who forged themselves out ofmon metals and into something greater.
Seasadh had always known Dwarves were special, but today was the first day that she truly felt it.
Felt it in her metal bones.
When the older woman leading them through the twisting halls reached a recess in the wall where a room tucked away, Seasadh almost walked right past the entrance in her trance.
At the slight clearing of a throat, she came to herself, and while trying to hide her blushing, rushed into the room with the other heirs.
Once everyone was sitting down, the old woman spoke.
Good evening, children. You have proven yourselves, the five hundred best of your peers from across the ns this year, standing unmoving before all yourpatriots. The grandest fighters, the cleverest schrs, the most dedicated to your studies. You have all distinguished yourselves, and that is worthy of celebration. Pausing, she started looking around the room with a small smile that implied everyone she was looking at was special in some way.
Then, the woman turned, and an image appeared, projected on the fall wall.
You may call me the Curator. It is both my title and position. A position I have earned through blood, sweat, and tears, and a position I have held for centuries. I have seen many of your parents, grandparents, and beyond walk through these doors, and I have no doubt that I shall someday see <em>your</em> children and grandchildren pass through my care.
Now, Im certain that all of you cant wait for me to shut up and let you get on with this most exciting day of your lives, but I made your great-great grandparents wait while this old woman had her fun, and now its your turn. The Founders Armory is open to you today and today alone, the greatest treasure passed down from the Founders firstborn himself. Each weapon within is a masterwork unlike any the Realm has seen since. Somepare them to Growth items, but the Artifacts within are far more than a mere <em>riftcraft</em> could ever hope to be. No, these Artifacts are partners, not tools. They grow alongside you, yes, and <em>should you be chosen</em>, should you prove worthy, you will be Awoken and bonded to the Artifact. Your Talents will grow toplement your Artifact, even as it grows toplement you."
Now, I speak of you being chosen. It is not I who will choose the wielder for each Artifact, but the Artifact themselves. They cannot be negotiated with, nor bargained for. Their bond is absolute and forever, their judgment final, and they are very, <em>very</em> picky with their choices. It has been twelve hundred years since thest time a Wielder has been chosen, though we usually expect one every seven hundred to a thousand years. If you are not chosen, if no Artifact deems you worthy, then you shall simply be awakened at the end of the day."
For you have a single day within the Armory, and during that time, you may do as you see fit with any of the weapons within, but do not harm one another. The Artifacts do not approve of such things, nor do <em>I</em>, and to raise a de against one of your fellow candidates is to be instantly removed from the Armory. I will be watching, and I will see."
Now, should you be chosen, should an Artifact deem you worthy, the Mountains shall pour out upon you. Your strength will in time be second only to the Grand Knights themselves, and you shall forever have the strength to defend your ancestral halls, your home, and your nation. For it <em>is</em> a boon to be chosen, and your power shall be manifold."
There was more, but Seasadh started to ze over, seeing the projected image behind the Curator.
She wasnt particrly drawn to the items inside, but rather the hall itself.
It was majestic.
Seasadh wanted to inspect the pirs that seemed to stretch up to the sky. She wanted to check her reflection in the almost <em>mirror-like</em> floor.
It seemed to take an eternity, but when she atst entered the Armory, she nearly fell to her knees.
Being inside was an experience she would never forget, though she was certain she wouldnt be chosen. Luck was never on her side, and even that wouldnt be enough for her here.
While the others rushed and started picking up weapons or pieces of armor, she just wandered, paying more attention to the tables than to the items on them.
The craftsmanship was beyond her vocabry, so she didnt even try to put words to her feelings.
When she was miles away from the entrance, she started paying attention to some of the items in the Founders Armory; they were also important items, and she wanted to see what made them special.
Seasadh quickly learned that not all the Artifacts were equal.
Each was treated with reverence, and each had its own ce, but the weapons and ces were far from equal. A rusty saber sat upon a velvet cushion, propped up like it was the most valuable thing in the room, while a golden axe studded with gems sat haphazardly upon a in stone table next to it. A spear with a haft of ice bnced precariously upon its point, resting in a matching divot on the floor, while a in longsword in a scabbard hung from a simple coat hanger.
It was all fastidiously clean, though there were a few ces here and there where an Artifact had obviously been removed sometime in the past. A de-sized hole in a stone, an amulet-shaped divot in a silk chest, a mannequin with nothing on it.
Checking her watch, Seasadh sighed as she realized she only had fourteen hours left. She wanted to spend the rest of her life here.
She wandered for another hour before she started toe down from her high and decided toy down next to a ss case containing a jeweled scepter. The way it reflected the light was pretty, and she wanted to enjoy it for a moment.
Before she knew what was going on, she was already asleep.
If she had been awake, she might have seen The Curator and another woman hovering just feet behind her.
Curator, you said she was going to bind, but I don''t see it. Shes just walking around, which is different from the others, but she doesn''t seem drawn to anything.
Sovereign Saint Aoife, I have been doing this for close to sixty thousand years. I know one who will bind. She wanders without a path, but she is not lost. There are millions of items here, but she keeps walking. She could pause at any time but she does not. Her Artifact is calling her.
It had been many, <em>many</em> long years since Aoife had first been in the Founders Armory, but it had never fully left her memory. What <em>exactly</em> the powerful artifacts within its walls were looking for was a matter of furious debate.
Worthiness of some metric was amon rumor, but the Custodian believed- and Aoife was inclined to trust- that perhaps the single most important factor was apatibletent Talent, though just <em>how</em> much an Artifact could change a Talent was wholly unknown. Just as Ascension inexplicably improved the strength and Talents of those Awakened in its wake, so too were Artifact-bonded Talents substantially stronger than their peers. Though at the cost of usually being <em>entirely</em> focused upon their Artifact.
There were no Talents which merely provided Innate [Fire Maniption]. Instead it would be the ability to use [Fire Maniption] while bearing their staff, but with double the potency of normal [Fire Maniption]. Those Chosen nearly always developed their Domain around their Artifact, and whenbined with the resources the n showered upon them, there were very, <em>very</em> few who could be said to be anything less than excellent.
The first year following her coronation, she had spent the entire Choosing day watching the various candidates, hoping that one may have bonded with an Artifact and thus joined the ranks of the ns elite warriors. None had, and the duties of her new office were <em>countless</em>, but just a few yearster, the Custodian had sent a message saying there was a promising candidate in this years Choosing.
So, Aoife waited silently until the girl woke up.
These hallowed halls were impressive, and she understood the girl''s fascination. They truly <em>were</em> some of the grandest under all the mountains.
Seasadh woke up after only an hour and kept wandering, but Aoife noted that the Curator was correct. The girl always moved in a specific direction, even if she thought it was simply wandering.
Seasadh frowned as she noticed a morningstar with a thickyer of dust on its handle. Clearly, the Curator wasnt doing her job if a weapon was so dirty.
The weapon was rather ordinary, a simple leather wrapped metal shaft bearing a ball of steel covered in spikes.
She went to wipe the dust off, but as the dust came off, so too did the weapons <em>steel</em>, revealing underneath a burning star. Then, like dust, the metal shuddered and fell off, reced by the burning radiance of the <em>star</em> that had just been born.
Seasadh was locked in a trance as the weapon bound itself to her, Awakening both the dwarf girl and its own power.
Above the girl, Aoife was stunned. That weapon had <em>not </em>had dust on it before the girl got close. She knew for a fact. When she first entered the Founders Armory, she had inspected every inch of it and every weapon inside of it.
That morningstar hadn''t had dust on it, until it suddenly <em>did</em>.
Even she hadnt caught the transition.
Looking to the Curator, the Tier 50 saw the woman''s smile. There was a trace of smugness, but Aoife could admit the woman earned it. The Curator had been correct even when she herself doubted.
Aoife finally broke herself out of her amazement with a snort. It''s a little on the nose, isn''t it? A morningstar being made from the core of a star?
The Curator just shrugged. Perhaps. I sometimes wonder if the Artifacts change themselves to be morepatible with their Chosen, just as they change those they choose. The Founder and The Smith are beyond myprehension.
Aoife turned to follow as the Curator teleported the girl out. Talent shenanigans were always weird, but while beautiful, this ce was odd, to say the least.
A living armory filled with weapons that chose their owners from the unawakened.
Frankly, her ancestors could have made things easier for her. But then, if Artifacts were simple, one of the many attempts to create more would have seeded by now, and the armory would not be slowly getting emptier over the millenia.
Being able to produce Elites was never easy, by its very nature. The Chosen Bearers of Artifacts were at least a <em>marginally</em> steady source of elite warriors, and they at least were set apart <em>at awakening</em>, meaning they could focus substantially more resources on them, without wasting time on candidates who ultimately fell short.
In another room, Seasadh slowly recovered from her stupor, and the reality of her situation began to set in.
<em>She had been Chosen</em>.
It was beyond her wildest dreams, and she sat in a stupor for what felt like hours before she properly realized where she was.
A Talent scanner.
Armed with her new weapon, she waded into the pool of not-water and let its findings form themselves upon the reflective surface of the scrying pool
<em><strong>Tier 1 Talent determined.</strong></em>
Light and Fire spells and enchantments are 50% more effective when channeled through Stjolna.
Secondary effect: Light and Fire spells and enchantments are 25% less effective when not channeled through Stjolna.
Stjolna. That was the name of her Artifact. Herpanion.
The Realm would have to make way for the two of them from now on.
***
Kelsey Tur swallowed as she looked up at the Headmaster of Barstock Academy. The man was impably dressed as he looked down at the students seated below him.
My name is Leonard, and you are the newest students of Barstock Academy. That means you are better than your peers. We take the best of the unawakened nobles and craft you into the perfect ruler. We will teach you how to <em>fight</em>. We will teach you how to <em>learn</em>. We will teach you how to <em>lead</em>. As the offspring of nobility, you have a great burden. Even if you don''t inherit your parents'' fiefs, you will be expected to be an example of your noble lineage. Seed, and opportunities will be opened to you. If you keep seeding, the entire Empire will open to you. Many of our top graduates are among the strongest in the entire Empire, second only to those rare few Ascenders. Fail, and you will still be far better-equipped than any of your peers.
At the murmur that ran through the crowd, Headmaster Leonard red at them. That is two demerits for all of you. Remaining quiet when being spoken to is a matter of simple manners. For those of you who didnt speak, you should have silenced your neighbors.
Kelsey grit her teeth. Two demerits meant more work in theing weeks, and she was sure she would be earning more from the idiots around her.
Before she couldin more, Headmaster Leonard continued. Now, if you feel under your chair, you should find a packet of information. It is <em>not</em> your own. Your first mission is to find your correct packet. You all have five minutes.
Just as everyone was about to explode, he added, Oh, yes. For every time someone speaks out loud, everyone gets one demerit.
As if to punctuate his words, the massive clock behind him chimed its warning of the new hour.
Kelsey and everyone else earned seven demerits trying to finish their tasks in the short time they were given, but thankfully, people listened when a boy stood up and gestured for them to get into two lines where they could walk past each other quickly.
It was a good idea, and she wished she had stood out first, as he earned an approving nod from a woman next to Headmaster Leonard in the teachers area.
Being noticed was a good thing.
If not for the idiots among them who eximed when they found their packets, they would have made out perfectly.
Kelsey sat down with everyone else as Headmaster Leonard resumed his ce at the podium. eptable, but not perfect. You will learn. Of that, I am sure. If you open your packets to the first page, you will find your room assignment. That is the one ce where you will not be tested. Be warned and informed. Everything outside the door frame of your quarters can and will be a test, but inside your room, you will never find a test or an instructor unless our AI reports you are in danger. That is your single ce of solitude. For the first time, Headmaster Leonard smiled. I rmend you not spend too much time there. Safety is a trap, and tests as much as danger.
Kelsey had already memorized her information when her eye was caught by a slight change in the weave of the paper.
Shed always had something of a <em>knack</em> for noticing things, and that served her well here. She split her attention between listening to Headmaster Leonard exining more of the rules and inspecting her paper, trying to figure out what it said. By turning it and angling it correctly, Kelsey found a second message on the paper. At midnight,e to the Albatross quad. By the third bush, you will find the next hint revealed by the moonlight - The Circle.
Seeing that, Kelsey thought hard. Everyone was meant to be in their rooms by ten at night, and being caught outside was risking worse than demerits, but like the Headmaster said, everything was a test. From what she knew, The Circle was a group of advanced students who acted like a shadow student council.
If she could join them, she would be able to secure herself an even better position in the school.
While they didnt publicize their members, The Circle was rumored to never have had a member not make it to a Tier 15 academy.
Kelsey wanted to be even better than that. To do so, she needed their resources.
She just needed to n everything perfectly so as to not get caught.
Risk and reward.
As they walked through the halls, she noted all the wards and security measures. They were surprisinglyx, which she supposed made sense. This school was a test, after all.
That night, when she was supposed to be asleep, she slunk out of her room and stalked down the halls, covering her face with one of her shirts.
Not exactly a foolproof measure to conceal her identity, but the best she could do on short notice.
It turned out to be a good choice, because she saw three others sneaking through the halls in different directions.
She wasnt the only one to see a hidden test, but each seemed different enough that no one was on her path to the quads.
Right before midnight, she was hidden inside the shadow of a bush when she saw it.
In a topiary of a man holding an orb, she found a thin panel of what she thought was ss, but seeing the liquid dripping off the leaves, learned it was ice.
As the clock struck midnight and the moon shone through it, she found a second message written in the shadows spread across the grass field.
Right, left, right, left, back, back, forward, forward.
Seeing nothing else, Kelsey furrowed her brows. But hearing steps behind her, she ran into the nearby hedge maze.
Following the pattern, she found herself not in the center, but a dead end.
As panic started to set in, she saw a root that seemed slightly different than the others.
Throwing caution to the wind, she bent down and pulled it and almost cried out as the ground dropped out from under her feet.
Landing on her butt, she looked up to see the sliver of sky disappear as the trap door shut.
Then, as if onmand, the room lit up with torches.
Standing around her in a Circle were six people with dark robes and masks covering the top of their faces.
Kelsey Tur. We, The Circle, invite you into our hidden society. The strongest weapons are the ones you don''t show. Mystery and our minds are our strongest weapons. Would you like to make them yours?
Kelsey stood up and brushed her dirt covered hands on her outer coat before looking around the circle of people.
Having gathered herself, she calmly answered.
She didnt have to think about it after all.
The answer was obvious.
Yes.
***
Serhan Tasci sat in the ssroom and poured over the fragile pages of parchment.
Not that they were old, despite trying to appear ancient.
They were forgeries made for this exercise; the ink still had a smell that gave the game away. If they were as old as they appeared, they wouldnt have such a metallic scent.
Serhan was in the middle of his Tier 15 practical exam in one of the Republic''s best academies.
He didnt even know exactly which academy he was testing for, but the initial Tier 15 academies numbered only a dozen. All of them were good, and if he graduated from any of them he would qualify for admittance into Evermore Academy, the <em>highest</em> of education.
If he failed to discover the answer to which school''s test he was taking, his academic career would end here, like ny five percent of his schoolmates.
The weeding out of students, first as they Tiered up, then through decades of academic rigor, was how the Republic found the best of the best to nurture.
The academies were aprehensive learning environment, and anyone who made it as far as he did was considered truly elite. Anypany or political movement would salivate at the thought of roping his ssmates in, but Serhan had bigger dreams.
He wanted to graduate from Evermore. Even qualifying for Evermore was sufficient to have ones career prospects set for life, but once a millennium, someone would <em>graduate</em> and be a living legend.
The Evermore Elites. Stronger, smarter, <em>better</em>. Only diators were broadly considered superior, but there hadnt been a <em>true</em> diator in ages. To be an Evermore was to be a national hero, beloved by all and given everything they ever needed or wanted.
And Serhan <em>wanted</em>.
He studied harder than his ssmates, practiced when they goofed off, challenged himself when they epted mediocrity.
Serhans Talent made every one of his skills more powerful, and had set him apart ever since he first Awakened. The resources he earned through his academies had only pushed him further ahead of his peers.
That was the point, after all.
Round after round of culling the students meant those who kept improving would be able to move to higher Tier academies, where the training got better with more, higher Tier resources.
He just needed to figure out this test.
It took him nearly a week and three false starts, but he eventually found a permutation cipher hidden in the whitespace of the document, and after running it through a trantor to convert it into Republic standard, he got his message.
A simple date and time set for one month from when he got the task and a name. Blue Stone Academy.
He had his ticket and knew his destination.
Or, at least the name.
The Tier 15 academies werent public in their locations. Even their names were little more than rumors, but he had at least heard of Blue Stone Academy. If said rumors were correct, he was epted into the third ranked academy of this bracket.
Not as good as he wished, but better than he hoped.
He had started at one of the worst Tier 1 academies in the Republic and wed his way up thedder, until the third out of fifteen offered him a position.
When Serhan entered Evermore, they would then know their blunder. The schadenfreude he would taste would be sweeter than any victory champagne.
***
Tian Hai sat in the pressure room and endured.
He had dealt with far worse during his training to be a Dao Child.
When the pressure let up, he looked at the army leader in front of him, who panted.
Dao Child, we can''t continue. Our willpower is insufficient for your needs.
Tian Hai frowned but got up. We resume tomorrow. The Drowner is supposed to be heading this way, and I need to be able to resist his powers. You are weak, but still good to have as training.
As Tian Hai swept away, he clenched his fist.
He had been given everything from a young age, and that bill wasing due soon with Duke Waters'' approach.
Despite his exquisite Silver Carp bloodline, his Talent, his Revtions, and his training, he had no expectations that he would be able to survive a battle with The Drowner.
Dao Children were the <em>true</em> Elites of the Sects, inheritors of their full might. Carefully-maintained Bloodlines, the best Talents, the grandest natural treasures, millions of years of carefully-umted knowledge, the very best trainers, and more besides. The perfect weapons, forged from those who had fought the Realm and won. They were the strong whom the weak should aspire to match, the Old Masters and defenders of their homnd.
Yet so many of his peers had been swatted like flies in the mere wake of The Drowner.
Tian Hai flew into space around the moon and tore a small hole through the veil, trying to see if the Drowner was nearing.
Seeing nothing, he let the hole in reality close, returning peace to the moon where he crossed his legs and started to meditate.
He needed to be in peak condition for this fight to even have a chance.
Before he settled into a good mediation, a soldier flew up and shouted, Dao Child Tian Hai, good news! The Drowner was just reported as back in the Empire, hes left!
Tian Hai almost sighed out loud, but stopped before showing he was relieved.
He might be <em>willing</em> to die, but he did not <em>want</em> to die. Still, there was no reason to reveal weakness to the soldiers.
Gather the men. We push out to reim the other bases in two hours.
As the soldier flew back, Tian Hai looked up into the stars and wondered which of them was an ancestor looking down on him.
***
Etienne looked down at his arm, now repaired.
A Corp mercenary had blown it off in thest fight, but he had taken the man''s head; a fair trade.
While recing your flesh was less than pleasant without Minka, there were ways. Ones at which the CyberForce excelled at, though they were more painful.
Still, the power was tangible.
As his [AI] beeped, he shot to his feet and ran.
With his mechanical legs and Talent boosting his speed, he crossed the mile and a half to the perimeter wall in less than a thousandth of a second.
He was the only member of CyberForce here, and it was his duty to prevent the base from being raided. This was a break assignment for his efforts in thest century. A break for his good deeds.
Normally, it would be an easy task, but a Corp mercenary team had set up shop while raiding their military instations in this area, which turned a mission that was meant to be a minor vacation into a dangerous assignment.
With two hundred Tier 25s, they outnumbered his own Tier 25 assets three to one, and that was a gap he couldnt cover himself.
If he wanted, he could kill most of them in a single engagement, but that would mean massive casualties for the men protecting this base.
Uneptable.
He was no true Hero, but he wasnt a callous asshole, either. Each normal soldier had their own life they valued as much as he valued his. All of which meant he needed to beat down this mercenary team slowly.
And they were here again.
Activating hismand channel, he said, Prepare to repel boarders once again.
The moon they were on didnt have an atmosphere, but that only helped him and increased his top speed without needing to use his Domain.
As the soldiers started casting spells and firing their defensive weapons, Etienne flexed his legs andunched himself into the air as he started running.
Using his Concept as a ground, his Talent started increasing his speed to levels even a Tier 29 would struggle to keep up with as he weaved between projectiles, cutting out at the mercenaries while he ran forward.
This was the third raid, and he had a n.
As their ship spat out another volley of attacks, he increased his speed to his limit and dashed inside the port before the weapons hatch closed.
Now that he was inside the ship, he started doing what he did best.
Killing people.
His integrated [AI] kept track of everyones position even as his shoulder rockets unleashed a barrage of [Firest]s.
He dodged a de and projected an [Energy Sword] from his wrist, bisecting the woman guarding the hatch.
Two kickster, the door fell, and he was free to run once more.
In the close quarters of the ship''s halls, he took mostly cosmetic damage to his cybeics, and in a short two minutes, he had entered the helm and had the captain held up by the neck.
Call off the raids or die.
The man smiled.
Id like to discuss <em>your </em>surrender. We have the helm rigged with explosives. We knew you would do this, <em>Quicksilver</em>. You were our target from the start.
Etienne wasnt surprised, and smiled as liquid metal started to seep out of his pores.
Crushing the captain''s neck, thest thing he saw was the man''s surprised expression as the ship exploded.
Thankfully, his liquid metal module was more than enough to protect him from an explosion of this Tier.
With their leader exploding, the rest of the mercenaries tore through real space into chaotic space, but Etienne followed. He kept up a steady harassment until they were well away from the flickering light that was his, but not beyond.
He was only Tier 25, and couldn''t entirely protect himself from the degradation of chaotic space with his own power, but seeing the mercenary group leave, he knew his job waspleted.
Now, there woulde the paperwork and funerals.
Etienne needed a break from this break.
***
Kar''Tan stalked the halls of hisboratory, a vial clutched in his paw. Around him, tubes filled with all manner of liquids slowly bubbled, the tiny, misshapen creatures within them pulsing like they were alive.
For they were. Mostly, at least.
The Chimera Program had, in the days of the Federation, been one of the countless abominations their hated envers had subjected them to. They were, however, far less interested in actual <em>results</em> than simply stitching flesh and bone together in the most painful ways imaginable. Their attempts to add bloodlines to humans, to add bloodlines to <em>beasts</em>, to create new bloodlines they all failed, save for a single instance.
Kar''Tan himself.
His parents, if he could call the gic donors spliced together in a test tube and grown within an incubator parents, had been a Golden Eagle and a Sr Lion, but he was no griffin. He was a winged lion instead, a carnivorous mockery of a pegasus, yet a vicious predator with two mighty bloodlines nheless.
Many of hispatriots from the war had sought to distance themselves from those running the Federation and anything they worked on as much as they possibly could, which he understood. He had done the same for the first few thousand years of their independence, but they soon learned.
Independence wasn''t so easy to maintain with all of the other Great Powers breathing down their necks.
After a devastating loss twenty thousand years after their independence, Kar''Tan had seen the value within himself, so when the Monster Collective higher ups started making inquiries about restarting the program, he had been the first to offer his services.
He had been party to the true horrors of the old Project Chimera, and thus was trusted to not stray too far into the abject depravity that haunted the programs past.
That he actually produced <em>results</em>, rather than creatively spliced corpses, certainly helped.
Kar''Tan stopped in front of an incubation tube slightlyrger than his already-impressive size, injecting the serum he had recently concocted into the intake membrane at the devices base. The crimson fluid stood out in stark contrast to the faintly-green liquid currently surrounding a feathered dragon in embryo, yet sought out its target like so many snakes, diving into theb-grown creature.
Failures were frequent and catastrophic.
It had taken him almost a millennia to produce the first proper chimera, a splice between a Water Otter and an Ice Martin, yet even that one had only survived for a few days outside of its birthing pod. It took millennia more before he had a subject survive until Awakening, but Awakening turned a bright, cheery little raven-fox into a vering, insane monster akin to those within a rift.
With the serum having taken, Kar''Tan began his return to the other section of hisboratory. His long strides were soundless against the metal grates that acted as the floor, leaving only the faint hums of enchantment and circting nutrient fluid from the dozens of tanks around him.
Even now, failures outnumbered sesses a hundred to one, <em>but they were improving</em>. Chimeras <em>were</em> being born, they <em>were</em> surviving to Awakening, they <em>werent</em> going mad.
At least, asionally.
It was hundreds of years between each <em>true</em> sess, and even though <em>most</em> chimeras proved willing to join the army once they were grown, <em>most</em> was not <em>all, </em>and they never forced it. The fraction who were suitable to the rigors of Elite military duty were slimmer still, but having nearly the full prowess of two bloodlines was a potent one, in the rare instances that it all <em>worked</em>.
Potent enough for Project Chimera to retain its generous funding.
With a p of his wings, Kar''Tan brought himself to the catwalk overlooking the growing chamber, then a few steps were all that was needed to return him to the <em>far</em> busier portion of the building.
His colleagues, a mixture of humans and beasts, worked in an interestingbination of utter chaos andplete order, as requests and cries to make way! and Behind! turned the floor into a chaotic stew of researchers and assistants taking notes, studying magical patterns, and developing strategies for the next batch of chimeras.
War wasing.
They needed to be prepared.
***
Valerie stood her ground with her bonded armor as Violet Pdin Ortiz gave his wee speech to a dozen Tier 10s. Five hundred years ago, <em>she</em> had been on the receiving end of this speech, but the new perspective brought with it no small amount of pride.
You all fought for this position. You are some of the best fighters in your generation. Not all of you will be Pdins, but it''s possible. Green Pdin Valerie is our newest member, having stood where you are now just five hundred years ago. Now, out of Minka and bonded to her armor, she represents who youpete to be.
As Pdin Ortiz said that, she saw the desire in their eyes. It was familiar.
Green Pdin Valerie, please give us a demonstration. Violet Pdin Ortiz said it with a smile, and Valerie had to resist grinning.
Her job here was to be serious and knock some sense into the recruits. Having been on the other side of this, she was more than ready to knock some heads together. If they were half as arrogant as she was, they needed it.
Green Pdin Valerie will be fighting all of you in your training armors. Worry not that she will just overpower you with her better power armor. Her power armor is better, but she won''t use even a tenth of its strength. Your training armor is stronger than hers.
Valerie smiled as her helmet sealed her in, and she merged with her armor more fully. Having emerged from Minka, she had been granted a full [Assistive Intelligence ME26-MI], and the original skill <em>truly</em> made the armor feel like a secondyer of skin. With the module active, she moved into the center of the recruits.
A Pdins powered armor was made through incredible craftsmanship, using only the best natural treasures, Minka to turn the powered armor into a growth armor, and a whole lot of training created a perfect pilot for the armor.
They protected the Corporation as the finest fighting force that existed, and were given the best of everything, but that came with responsibility.
Valerie knew each of the recruits thought they were sure to be the one to bind with a Pdin armor, but out of the close to fifty recruits, if more than two of them got the right to enter Minka, she would be shocked.
Earning that shot wasnt easy, and the biggest obstacle was the recruits'' own pride. Well, the suits of armor that took <em>centuries</em> to build certainly didnt make things any easier. There were far, <em>far</em> more candidates than avable armors after all, but that was why they weeded out the recruits even after the rigorous preselection.
As the first de tried to descend on her back, Valerie spun. She was slower than she was used to, but the recruits were sluggish, despite all their hours of holographic training sims.
The real power armors were different, no matter how good the program.
They were more robotic than their suits ounted for.
Dipping low, she kicked the de out of the first recruit''s hand before nting her hands on the ground and spinning, tripping another two recruits.
Bouncing to her feet with a strong push, she jumped once more and kneed the closest one in the helmet.
As he fell back, she rode him down and broke the encirclement.
This was so much fun.
When thest of the recruits dropped to their butts, she stepped back to Violet Pdin Ortiz, who winked at her.
He knew what wasing next, and was looking forward to it as much as she was.
Recruits, your armors seem a little damaged. Your first task is to fix them. Pointing off to the side, he showed them the mechanics.
All of them had hard expressions, but it was all an act Valerie knew. The mechanics were some of the most passionate people in the Pdins, but they served a less highlighted role for all that it was just as valuable. A lesson the recruits needed to learn. If they couldn''t respect the people who maintained their armor, they had no ce among the Pdins.
Most of them came from pampered backgrounds, and were used to being given everything by teams of hired help, but that wasnt how the Pdins worked, and those who couldnt grasp that fact invariably failed. An operator was only one half of a Pdin team. Even after turning into a growth item and bing able to repair itself, no operator wanted their armor to be running at anything other than its best. Which was where the mechanics came in.
Only one of the recruits, a man who she clotheslined in a bit of fun, moved at first. He moved to the closest team and demanded them to repair his armor.
The mechanics refused.
The man looked gobsmacked and stood there as he tried to process what to do.
Ordering the mechanics was the second worst way to try and get them to help. The only way that was worse was using violence, and <em>that</em> option was why Pdin Ortiz and she herself stayed around. Well, they also wanted to watch the show, but they were ready to move and protect the mechanics.
Pdin Ortiz hadnt lied when he said that she was only using a fraction of her armor''s power. With two growth powers on her now Tier 15 armor, she could cross the distance faster than they could throw a punch. Pdin Ortiz could be there before the recruit even flexed if he was so needed.
As the first man started shouting, she smiled.
The show was starting.
***
Yusef grunted as hepleted his push up.
Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu spoke his mantra, You are the Warrior caste. Your old caste is in the past. Some of your parents were Makers, who created our weapons and armors, our barracks and ships. An honorable life, filled with the knowledge that their efforts serve the Warriors. Be grateful you are not them, for if you were, you would only bloody your hands by proxy.
Everyone screamed back, We are Warriors!
A Training Instructor neared the woman next to Yusef and started screaming at her for letting her body sag from the perfectly t ne that they were meant to maintain.
Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu didnt stop his mantra, but did raise his voice as he passed through their orderly ranks.
You are the Warrior caste. Your old caste is in the past. Some of your parents were of the Community, making your food and your clothes, maintaining our homes and our ships. Respect them, for they are the ones who allow you to <em>be</em> warriors, and spare you from worrying if you will have food or clothes that fit. Be grateful you are not them, for if you were, you would only support the war, not be in it.
Everyone screamed back, We are Warriors!
Exercise Instructor Almante called for them to start doing high knees, and everyone jumped to their feet. Yusef was just grateful, as his arms were starting to tire, so the change of exercise was wee.
Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu never stopped speaking. You are the Warrior caste. Your old caste is in the past. Some of your parents were Leaders. They guide us with their wisdom and Talents, bringing forth order from chaos and purpose to the aimless. Be grateful you are not them, for you would never protect our home yourselves.
Everyone screamed back, We are Warriors!
From the corner of his vision, Yusef saw Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu raise a trainees hands to be higher and therefore raise the contact point for their high knees. The man had been cking with his exercise and gotten caught.
Never a good thing.
While Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu was gentle in his correction, the swarm of Training Instructors who started screaming at the trainee were anything but.
You are the Warrior caste. Your old caste is in the past. Some of your parents were Warriors. It is <em>them</em> who you follow, <em>those</em> are the few you should seek to emte. To try and reach, and even surpass. Treat your fellows with respect, for you share amon goal. Be grateful you are them, for the blood of our enemies will be spilled by <em>your hands</em>.
Everyone screamed back with even more fervor than the other replies, We are Warriors!
You are the Warrior caste. You are the <em>archwarriors </em>of the Warrior caste, your Talents and abilities beyond all those who you once thought of peers. It is your duty to surpass all others, and be the tip of the ive as we pierce the throats of our enemies.
Yusef wanted to smile at that reminder. He would be one of the best in the future. Before he could daydream about the time where he could lead normal Warriors into battle, Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu then reminded them why they fought.
We are the strongest Great Power. The others fear us, they cower in their homes, posturing and seeking to intimidate us with shameful tricks. They will not seed, we will fight them all and win. It took all seven of them to equal our brilliance, but today, we shine brighter than all of them.
Yusef missed what Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu said next, as a Training Instructor saw his eye twitch to the side to follow the Lead Instructor.
Did the Lead Instructor tell you to look at him, trainee? Do you rate to look at the Lead Instructor?
No, sir! Yusef screamed back at the top of his lungs while doing his high knees even faster.
The Training Instructor then told him to switch between burpees and bicycle kicks as hemanded him to go faster with every breath.
When someone else caught the Training Instructor''s eyes and left Yusef alone, Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu was cursing the beasts that pretended to be human.
What are the imposters who wear our flesh and pretend to be like us?
Yusef and everyone screamed with spit flying, Monsters pretending to be human! Nothing better than monsters from the rifts, who pretend to be like us!
Their exercisested until the sun was high in the sky, when they were eventually passed food by the Community members who had the privilege of working on the base.
A Trainee near Yusef spent too much time looking at one of the helpers, and the Training Instructors fell on her. Do you think you rate to look at a member of the Community, trainee?
As he watched through his peripheral vision, Yusef quickly ate the meal provided.
It was his favorite time of the day.
Potions of Strength were passed around, and when they drank them, Yusef could feel his sore muscles vanish as they loosened and twitched.
Flexing, he could feel the increase in his strength.
Once their potions were drank, Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu called for them to turn and start running.
Today was obstacle course day.
At the obstacle course, you will simte the attacks of the enemies as you weave through the rubble of their defenses, and seek to take their lives. Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu exined the same thing as he always did, but Yusef was grateful for it, as it gave them time to catch their breath and settle their racing hearts.
As they broke into teams, with half of them moving through the obstacle course, Lead Instructor Ha Hyonu once more exined their purpose.
You are the Warrior caste. Your old caste is in the past. Some of your parents were Makers who created our weapons and armors, our barracks and ships. An honorable life, filled with the knowledge that their efforts serve the Warriors. Be grateful you are not them, for if you were, you would only bloody your hands by proxy.
Everyone screamed back, We are Warriors!