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Sam’s torso swayed from side to side as he looked up at the ceiling of the train car. He hadn’t expected to ride a train so soon after nearly dying in one not too long ago, but as fate would have it, this was the only option back to the human city—because Sam had ruled out crossing the spectral jungle to return; he had more than enough experiences in the damp jungle filled with giant bugs and time-manipulating wolf people.
The last time Sam was on the train, he hadn’t gotten very far before a freed grayling derailed it, so he didn’t get to see the scenery around Et Serpentium. Now that he was riding a train out of Et Serpentium, he found out he hadn’t missed much considering the tracks were underground, and whoever was in charge of the transit system didn’t care about lighting up an empty tunnel. Well, traveling underground on a train was still a novelty, albeit an unexciting one.
“So,” Wendy said. She was sitting beside Sam, wearing a suit similar to the one he had first seen her in. “Have you decided on where you’d like to live once you go back?”
“Yes,” Sam said. He held out the stone tablet the size of a playing card in his left hand and focused on the crown of his head. Through his Sahasrara, he transmitted an image from his mind into the tablet. “This one.”
Wendy glanced down at the tablet, which hadn’t changed on the surface despite Sam’s transmission. “I see,” Wendy said and nodded her head, “very woodsy. Not really what I expected from you, but”—she glanced at the eagle perched on Sam’s lap and the sleeping ferret on his shoulder—“I think I understand why; I’ll have it purchased for you.”
“I already bought it,” Sam said.
Wendy blinked. “Oh?”
Sam had surprisingly gotten along very well with the graylings. Even though their thoughts were destructive, that didn’t mean they weren’t smart and intelligent—in Sam’s opinion. When he talked with them about his problems, they gave him clear and good advice. One of them even offered to be Sam’s secretary, and Sam learned why reptilians were willing to pay him, an ex-pet human, to continue having graylings serve them. They were efficient and capable of doing everything: purchasing houses, managing business deals, organizing schedules, planning everything in a financially responsible manner. It gave him time to be free without having to worry about anything else.
“It seems I’m putting my job at risk,” Wendy said after reading Sam’s thoughts. If one grayling was responsible enough to take care of Sam, it’d only take a few more graylings working together to efficiently run Monarch. Perhaps all positions other than combat-oriented and support-oriented awakeners could be replaced. Well, no sane company would replace all their workers with graylings; that’d be like handing over the company to Sam.
“Isn’t that the point of graylings?” Sam asked. “They do the menial tasks, so people can focus on more important things like what they’re interested in.”
“That’s how it goes in theory,” Wendy said. “How it actually plays out is yet to be seen.” Wendy shrugged. “What’s for certain is you’ll be meeting with the heads of many companies, not just Monarch. Do you want any advice on how to deal with them?”
“The graylings already came up with a plan,” Sam said. “I’ll establish friendly relationships with every company and distribute graylings to them.”
“That’s it?” Wendy asked after pausing for a moment. “Nothing comes after that? How are you going to exploit those connections you’ll make?”
Sam shrugged. “Whenever the situation arises,” he said. “I’ll be sure to send a few graylings to law enforcement as well, and if I’m ever caught doing something illegal, I’ll abuse my power to get off scot-free.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked. “And what illegal acts are you preparing for?”
Sam rolled his eyes. He wasn’t planning on breaking the law if he didn’t have to. Unlike before, he didn’t have to squat in someone else’s home since he was now filthy rich from the trade with the reptilians—who had paid him in advance.
“Bribery?” Wendy asked. “It’s convenient for getting what you want.”
“No,” Sam said. After thinking about it for a bit, he changed his mind. People were always making their lives easier with money, so why should bribery be excluded? Monarch operated in gray areas of the law all the time, and they were quite a successful company, so if successful companies were breaking the law, why shouldn’t he break them as well?
“Most people don’t jump to that conclusion,” Wendy said. “They usually get upset the companies aren’t following the law and try to think of ways to expose their wrongdoings.”
If Sam cared about condemning companies’ illegal activities, he wouldn’t have volunteered to have an artificial talent inserted into his body.
“You’re welcome for the boss core by the way,” Wendy said. “Imagine you were granted a talent with an insignificant monster core; I don’t think you’d be sitting so pretty if your talent were something like ink remover.”
“Thanks for believing I’d survive the process,” Sam said and rolled his eyes. Although he said it sarcastically, he was a bit grateful Wendy had chosen to give him a stronger core. In the future, when the technique to grant talents improved, could he replace his talent with an even better one?
A sharp pain stabbed Sam’s knee, and he flinched while looking down. Birdbrained had pecked Sam’s knee, evidently unhappy its owner wasn’t satisfied with his current talent. What was better than instantly mastering chakras? Wasn’t he satisfied?
Sam exhaled and turned his attention onto Wendy, ignoring the blood tricking down his leg from where the eagle’s sharp, pointy beak had punctured his skin. “I’ve mastered the Sahasrara thanks to Birdbrained,” he said. “Do you think you can teach me some tricks like … how to turn invisible?”
“Sure,” Wendy said. “Becoming invisible is like creating a connection with someone, but instead of opening your connection, you cut them off.”
Sam raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at the stone tablet in his hand. It was easy forming a connection with it, but he never thought about cutting off the strand of lightning connecting him to the card-sized stone. Then again, with inanimate objects, connections had to be formed with them first. Sam turned towards Wendy. With people, the connections were automatically established. Sam focused on the strand of lightning connecting him and Wendy, and with a simple thought, he severed the strand.
“Oh,” Wendy said. “You did it; that was quick.”
“I’m invisible?” Sam asked. At the same time his voice reached Wendy’s ears, the strand connecting him to Wendy reappeared. As long as he severed the connection between him and another person, they wouldn’t register him being there unless he made himself known either by speaking or making a loud noise. “I think I get it.” It wasn’t really invisibility; it was rendering someone incapable of registering him in their mind.
Wendy stared at Sam’s head for a bit before exhaling. The nervous kid who had been so easily tricked was gone, replaced by someone relaxed and comfortable with himself. Once again, Wendy applauded her decision to go off plan and sell Sam to Ellie’s mother. Although things didn’t work out as Monarch had planned, things worked out perfectly for Wendy. Her status amongst reptilians had risen thanks to the connection forged between humanity, graylings, and reptilians through Sam’s theft of the GMC. It was a powerful connection, albeit one people would look down upon.
“What else can you do with a mastered crown chakra?” Sam asked, turning towards Wendy.
“Explore it on your own,” Wendy said. “Sometimes, foreign ideas will constrain your thoughts, limiting the power of your intent.”
Sam stared at Wendy. For some reason, it felt like she was giving him an excuse to avoid teaching him. Well, it was fine, even in Et Serpentium, he had to pay to learn new techniques. He was lucky she taught him how to turn invisible for free. It wasn’t like he hadn’t obtained any new skills either. Since the deal had gone through, Sam went to the technique shop and jiggled some useful abilities into his body. Sadly, there was a limit on how many techniques could be granted by the jiggler in a short amount of time, so he didn’t learn that many, but it’d take him a while to get accustomed to the new ones he had obtained.
Normally, he’d spend the time practicing them, but using techniques made him hungry, and he hadn’t brought that much food with him. Raindu was carrying most of it, and he didn’t want to disturb the ferret while it slept. The trip back to the human city from Et Serpentium was a long one. He wasn’t sure how fast the train was traveling compared to a surdock, but it couldn’t have been too much faster considering the estimated time of arrival was in a week.
“This route connects straight to the city?” Sam asked.
“There’s a transfer along the way,” Wendy said. “But since humanity’s train was derailed, we don’t have to switch trains.”
“Why is there a train connected to Et Serpentium anyway?” Sam asked.
“The reptilians wanted easy access to pets and other opportunities,” Wendy said, “so they constructed a path to the city.”
“And humans just let them?” Sam asked.
“Yep,” Wendy said. “Humans approved of it too. They wanted access to lands deeper into Oterra, and some people didn’t mind using the reptilians as a convenient way to make people go missing. It’s not like you haven’t seen Tamara; she works at Monarch legally.”
As a talentless, Sam had been relegated to the outskirts of the city, the slums where no one wanted to live. It wasn’t particularly dangerous, but it wasn’t pleasant knowing the center of the city was safer in case of a monster attack. To be fair, there had only been three times the city had been attacked since Sam was living in it, and each time, awakeners swiftly suppressed the aggressors. If the awakeners in the city were fine with using the talentless as human buffers, Sam wasn’t surprised they’d be willing to make deals with the reptilians as well.
Sam exhaled and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling of the train once more. “A whole week, huh?” he asked no one in particularly. What was he going to do in that time? Meditating to unlock his chakras wasn’t an option since Raindu wouldn’t let him hold any crystals, and he didn’t have access to his food storage while the ferret was sleeping, preventing him from practicing his vibrational techniques. In that case, he could always experiment more with his psychic vision.
“Would you like to skip ahead by a week?” one of the graylings beside Sam asked.
“Skip ahead?” Sam asked.
“We can manipulate time and space,” the grayling said. “If you don’t want to wait a week, we can make it pass in an instant.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you guys only capable of skipping ahead?” he asked. “If I wanted to go back in time, could you send me into the past?”
“Moving to the past is difficult,” the grayling said. “There are entities in the fourth dimension that specialize in feasting on those who move around outside of their time.”
Sam’s expression darkened. “And you were fine with sending me to the future because…?”
“You wouldn’t be moving outside of time,” the grayling said. “You’d still be moving around the present but at a faster speed.”
“And I won’t be feasted on by fourth-dimensional creatures?” Sam asked.
“There’s always a chance you’ll be feasted on by fourth-dimensional creatures,” the grayling said. “Whenever someone dies with no identifiable cause of death, they were likely killed by an extra-dimensional creature.”
Sam turned his head towards Wendy. “Are extra-dimensional creatures a thing?”
“They’ve been talked about,” Wendy said, her eyes drifting towards the eagle perched on Sam’s legs, “but humans haven’t observed any in action.”
“Are you unaware?” the grayling asked. It pointed at Raindu and Birdbrained, using one of its long fingers for each animal. “You have two extra-dimensional creatures in your lap.”
Sam blinked and looked down at Raindu and Birdbrained. “They’re extra-dimensional creatures?” His brow furrowed as he turned towards Wendy. “You did say something about higher-dimensional creature when that white light broke apart.”
Raindu’s ears perked up, but the ferret’s eyes remained close.
“Yes, Birdbrained shattered the stabilized space in a very impressive manner,” Wendy said, causing the ferret’s eyes to shoot open. It rolled over and stood on its hindlegs before thumping its chest, proclaiming it was one that had shattered the light. Whether it was on purpose or not, Wendy ignored the ferret. “That’s why I suspected it was a higher-dimensional creature.”
“Are they rare or something?” Sam asked. If these extra-dimensional creatures were all as powerful as Raindu and Birdbrained, wouldn’t everyone have heard of them since they’d wreak so much havoc? They’d be like natural disasters. Surely, you’ve got the names of some of them.”
“It’s because of the watchers,” a grayling said. “The blue avians.”
Sam furrowed his brow. As a talentless human, he had never heard the term before. As a human pet in Et Serpentium, he had also never heard the term. He turned his head towards Wendy, and he raised an eyebrow upon seeing Wendy’s lips stretch into a frown. “What?” Sam asked. “Is it bad?”
Wendy nodded. “They might be coming for you.”
***
In the northern end of Oterra, there was a lush forest, flowers sporting petals with warm hues. In the center of said forest, there was a tower constructed of multiple trees rooted in close proximity, their trunks weaving through one another, encouraged to grow in a chalice-like structure by their planter. Although there were no proper footholds—or even floors for that matter—to climb the tower, that didn’t bother the inhabitants: blue avians, humanoid figures with cold-colored feathers covering every inch of their skin. Blue avians were gathered high and low along the thick branches growing out of the trees making up the walls of the tower.
“The calamity detector has sounded its alarm,” one of the blue avians said without opening its mouth, its voice transmitted directly into the minds of the blue avians within the tower.
“A calamity has been detected?” another blue avian asked in a high-pitched voice.
“Yes, the calamity detector sounds its alarm when it detects a calamity,” the first blue avian said with a flat tone.
“You didn’t have to be so rude,” the second blue avian said. “I was helping you build an atmosphere, but you shattered it like all the other hopes and dreams you shut down every day.”
“The calamity detector has sounded its alarm,” the first blue avian said, repeating itself.
“A calamity has been detected?” the second blue avian asked in a high-pitched voice.
“A dangerous one too,” the first blue avian said. “We suspect the master of the Anunaki has resurrected.”
“Again?” someone asked from the side. “Didn’t he perish not that long ago?”
“Ten thousand years,” another blue avian said. “Like how long it takes for you to get ready.”
“Beauty takes time; you wouldn’t understand it, not with your face.”
“So,” a sharp voice said, cutting through the chatter. A blue avian with orange, eagle-like eyes crossed their arms over their chest and swept their gaze over the other blue avians. “Who’s it going to be this time?”
“Oh, would you look at the time,” a blue avian said before levitating off the branch it was on and floating away.
“Oh, yes, the time,” another blue avian said, floating away as well.
“The time, the time, how dreadful.”
“Not it!”
Blatant excuses echoed all throughout the wooden chalice-like structure, and soon, every blue avian had left except the one who had asked the question in the first place. They remained in place, scanning the branches of the tower to make sure everyone was gone. “Then, it’s up to me,” the blue avian said and sighed. “Again.”
“Paula said they’ll do it!”
All at once, chattering echoed through Paula’s head as all the blue avians returned to the tower. Evidently, the time all the blue avians were referring to was the moment someone took on the responsibility of subduing the Anunaki’s master.
“Paula’s the best,” a blue avian said.
“Certainly, she’s the most responsible too.”
“That’s what best means: all-encompassing, that includes responsible.”
“Well, best can’t mean all-encompassing because everyone knows I make the tastiest deserts for our social gatherings. If Paula were the best, then they’d be a better pâtissier than me.”
“And a better feather-trimmer than me,” a third avian chimed in.
“And a better beak shiner than me.”
Paula exhaled and surged towards the sky, leaving through the canopy of the tower. With a thought, Paula rushed forward through the sky, arriving at the edge of the lush forest in an instant. The blue avian’s eyes narrowed as they slowly rotated. When Paula detected something off about the direction they were facing, the blue avian didn’t hesitate to float in that direction, zooming across the sky like a shooting star. The calamity was quite far away even with Paula’s current speed, but they were sure they’d arrive before the calamity had time to grow. A lone calamity stood no chance against a blue avian—one of the reasons why no one cared about Paula’s safety; the other reason was a much more depressing one involving Paula’s social abilities.