June 19, 2022 - 7.10am
Unknown, Unknown, Nigeria
“Was waking up this early absolutely necessary?” Soji groggily whined, trudging behind Coach, Monika, and Kuro. The girl looked back at him, mirroring his tired eyes. They all wore matching black sweatpants, baggy but tapered around the ankles. Monika distinguished herself with a white crop top, while the boys matched black tank tops.
“You get used to it…” she yawned, “…sort of.” Kuro continued on wordlessly as they marched through the sparse forest. That there existed forests such as these in Nigeria surprised him. He did not consider himself an expert on local flora, but he did remember key notes from his geography classes.
Eventually, their march came to a halt as they approached a muddy clearing surrounded by towering trees. Their large, flat leaves had been blocking out the sun, but its soft, yellow rays finally illuminated the ground before them, peeking through the forest’s natural curtain. Even in the humidity, it was a welcome splotch of warmth.
“Alright!” Coach clapped her hands together.
“This is where you’re training today!” She turned towards the kids behind her.
“You’re all in different places when it comes to what you can do, so today will be about getting you on the same page. Monika, as usual, maximize your atma output, minimize waste. Kuro, you need to get a grasp on the basics we talked about. Soji —“
“Wait,” Kuro interrupted, “when can I work on developing a technique like yours or Monika’s?” Coach smiled, amused by his enthusiasm.
“Techniques aren’t developed. They’re determined by the shape of the soul when you first awaken atma. And since you’re an anomaly…” She pointed at his bright silver hair, “That happened at birth.”
“Which means?” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Which means, your technique will reveal itself when the conditions of its activation are met. But that starts with mastering the basics.”
“Excuse me? Ms. Coach?” Soji raised his hand. “What exactly are these atma basics?”
“I guess you weren’t there for that explanation, huh.” Coach held her chin. “Monika.”
“There are three main pillars that make up the basics of atma manipulation. Flow, Shape, and Expel. Flow is the movement of atma throughout the body, and objects in contact with it. This allows maestros to strengthen and increase the durability of their target; this is atma reinforcement. Shape is manipulating the shape of one’s atma. It allows the user to create shapes out of atma, like blades or shields.”
“Why create a blade? Isn’t it better to just use Flow on one?”
“Sort of. Shape is a less efficient Flow that maestros don’t really use unless it benefits their technique or fighting style. But it’s also useful in a pinch. I use Shape because of how my atma works, but Big Sis doesn’t.” Soji nodded in understanding while Monika continued.
“Lastly, there’s Expel. Just like the rest, it’s exactly how it sounds; the user can expel their atma as a projectile. And like Shape, it has its specific use cases.” The girl’s explanations were neat and precise, as though reciting facts from a textbook.
“I see…” Soji rubbed his chin.
“I don’t totally get it, but it’s not like I have to understand that stuff right?”
“As I was saying,” Coach reclaimed the conversation, “Soji, you need to figure out the whole bloom thing. It’s a matter of life and death.” Her words cooled even the sunrays before her tone abruptly shifted.
“So, today’s activity is tag.” She handed Soji a badge. “Whoever has this badge by the time I return is ‘it’ and will be punished. Later!” She turned away from them. For the boys, newcomers to her manner of speaking, following her words was like being in the backseat of an indecisive driver’s mood swings.
“Wait!” Kuro called out, “Where are you going?”
“Work meeting. Oh, and before I forget— maestros talk a lot.” The woman threw up a peace sign then, again, glitched out of sight.
The trio stood and stared at each other for a moment before Monika suddenly broke the quiet. Her atma flared then exploded, launching herself away from the boys and into the cluster of trees.
“Yo, Soji. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. Let’s leave it alone.”
“No way. Our lives were just destroyed. Now we have to help these crazy people kill strangers. And your parents…” Kuro remained firmly planted. Their upbringing had been so closely knit that he felt as though he was asking after his own parents.
“She’s not crazy.”
“What?”
“Coach. She’s not crazy. She told me that all this is happening because of the assholes in charge of the M.I.I. . That all of this could have been avoided if not for their neglect.” Soji’s voice was spiteful.
~
“Their neglect?” Soji asked.
“That’s right…this isn’t the first time an attack like this has happened.” Coach explained as she let Soji out of the cage. “The only difference is that nobody survived the first time. Or the second. Or the fourth.”
“So why? If you knew this wasn’t the first time, why did you let me go back home? Why did you let me do that?!”
“I’m sorry. I thought it would be safer for you in the long term. Like I said, the Institute has been slaughtering individuals with abilities even remotely similar to yours. It would have put a target on your back. But I wish I had known that you already had one from this mystery woman. I promise to get you your justice.”
~
“And you believe her? Do you believe this stranger? She hasn’t even told us her name! She just took us ‘under her care’?! She won’t even let me call my mother! I mean…who is she?!” Kuro exclaimed.
“I don’t care. If nothing else, she promised me that she’ll help me find the woman behind the attack.”
“And then what?!” Kuro said. Soji steeled his gaze, answering the question soundlessly.
“Soji…” In that moment, Kuro understood just how much his brother was hurting. It was such an overbearing pain that he chose anger — no, hatred — to soothe it. He had to stay hot enough to burn away the malignant guilt threatening to calcify in his heart.
“My hands are stained already. I killed my parents, Kuro. Our parents. I need to balance the scales. I need to do something right.”
“That’s not —”
“Right? Don’t tell me what is and isn’t right. You can’t tell me what to do.” Soji began walking in Monika’s direction. Kuro stepped in front of him.
“Yes I can. You’re being stupid.” His peaceful demeanor wobbled, now bordering on anger.
“I’m not stupid. And you’re not my dad. He’s gone. Just like my mom. Just like Franklin. And just like Farah. I...” Making sure to bump into Kuro, Soji stormed ahead.
“Soji!” Kuro called. The smoldering boy stopped. “You can feel your feelings.” Several moments passed before he eventually sighed, turning around.
“Are you going to fight me about it?” The two boys stared at each other before Kuro broke eye contact.
“It’s obvious he wants to hit something, punish someone.”
“I just don’t know how to help you.”
“I don’t need your help with this. You’re alive, that’s all that matters.”
Before he could run off, the constant drumming of Monika’s explosions was interrupted by a thundering CRACK BOOM. The boys recognized the caliber of those explosions from just a few days before, and ran towards the noise.
Kuro’s atma spilled out from his body and hugged his small frame, energizing his legs as he shot ahead of Soji’s normal pace.
“How can I keep up with that?” He slowed down, breathing heavily.
Soji looked down at his clenched hands. The image of them blackened, red hot glowing veins flashed before him and he shook his head to dispel the memory.
“I need to remember how it felt that first time, right? That’s usually how it works.” Soji closed his eyes, his heart beating faster as he focused on the recollections of the previous days. He remembered the sensation of falling into a pool of hot concrete and leaned back, trying to replicate that feeling.
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The horrific images that skulked in the back of his mind ignited in him a fire that was soon reflected onto his fists with a soft orange glow. He felt the ghost of a familiar strength flow into his body from his head and arms, into his core and legs.
“I can’t believe that worked. This feels different from that time. I’m not drowning…I’m floating!”
It was then that his faintly red eyes noticed translucent glowing clouds of energy following the pattern of what looked like Kuro’s footsteps into the trees. He knelt down to touch it, feeling a slight buzzing as his fingers distorted the scant blue fog.
“So this is atma…” Soji looked up to see similar, albeit more jagged clouds high in the trees, presumably from Monika. The sudden world of color appalled the boy. He looked back to where they had come from, noticing a huge mass of residual atma where Coach had been standing.
“That’s Coach’s atma…incredible.” Another huge explosion sounded, snapping Soji back into focus.
He started into a jog, but suddenly felt something wrap around his ankles. He glanced down behind him and jumped at the sight of two incinerated bodies holding onto him. Their jaws moved wordlessly, silently, as they cursed him. Soji’s lips wobbled and he stuttered an apology that, without the stubborn air in his lungs, could not be pushed out of his mouth. He could feel his heart trembling and bile rising up his throat. Soji fell to his knees and vomited, cold pins of anxiety pressing down on his tongue. The guilt he’d been repressing punched his stomach unforgivingly while he sobbed silently.
After a few minutes, the apparition dissolved, leaving the boy with his thoughts, and, if he could manage to stand, the freedom to pursue his friend.
~
Monika exhaled tiredly, still managing a smirk despite the fact that she was surrounded by three assailants who appeared unbothered by two of her most powerful attacks.
“How did they dodge twice?” The attacking trio consisted of two girls and a boy. They all shared the same dark hair, and wore the same navy blue windbreaker and cargo pants, with thin white lettering on the left shoulder: M I I.
The boy, who wore an azure blue and white oni mask of the lower half of his face stepped forward with a black staff in hand. His dark gray eyes burned with an uncomfortable intensity.
“You Roses are always a pain in the ass. But we’re not here for you. Where’s the half-bloom?” He pronounced his words strangely, almost like an amateur ventriloquist.
“Take off that mask of yours and talk normally, weirdo.” Monika’s comment visibly upset him.
“We’re only after the bloom boy. But we have permission to handle any obstacles however we choose.” He let the head of his staff drop to the ground and held it like a sword. Monika inhaled deeply then stepped forward, letting her atma flow freely. She motioned to lunge at the boy when an unseen force held her in place. Sparks of atma popped off her jacket. One of the girls behind the staff-wielding attacker had her hand outstretched.
“Don’t you dare, Angelo.”
She had curly, reddish-black hair tied into two braids on either side of her face, and ochre brown skin, complemented by her green eyes and a black bandana on her head. In her right hand, she held a strange spear with a hoop for a head. The hoop, as well as a quarter of the body below it were wrapped by dirty white bandages, presumably tattered from repeated removal and reapplication.
“Esme. Don’t get in my way. I’m running point on this mission.” The boy growled.
“You’d be wise to listen to your friend,” Monika said. “You know who I am. You know my family. You know who my grandmother is. Don’t piss me off.”
“Ugh, I hate using that card, but Tamara said I have to protect those two if anything happens. Come to think of it, is this part of the training?”
The girl who had been silent before, crossed her arms and laughed.
“Who do you think gave us the order? She knows you’re here, running around with…undesirables. I’m sure Yasu was hoping we’d beat the arrogance out of you,” the girl mocked Monika with a singsong voice.
Within maestro society, there existed three families that were considered to be the pillars of not just the M.I.I. but society as a whole. They possessed techniques and atma abilities that put them in a league far above the rest, and shared histories that are woven into the DNA of the modern day world. These families were known as the First Families, and the Roses were one of them.
Now, it was true that Monika had a bad relationship with her family, and that her name left a bad taste in her grandmother’s mouth, but hearing that come from a stranger’s lips riled her up. While still being unable to move anything but her face, the girl gathered atma in her mouth, and with as much strength as she could muster, spat at Esme. The saliva was loaded with atma and upon making contact with her face, exploded the way a handful of tiny bags of gunpowder might have.
Esme flinched in pain, and retracted her hand to rub her face. The force holding Monika in place dissipated immediately and the girl wasted no time charging at her mocker.
She gathered atma in her fist and smashed it into the girl’s face, sending her flying a few feet backwards with a small explosion.
Angelo’s reaction was just as quick as he swung his staff at Monika’s back, knocking her in Esme’s direction. Esme undid a knot formed by the bandages on her spear and pulled them off, revealing a sharpened, gold hoop. Its yellow inscriptions glowed softly as she brought it down on Monika, trapping her in the ring. Once again, the girl found herself unable to move. Esme pulled the spear towards her and Monika watched as the hoop passed through her.
“That spear…Calypso’s Net!? Grandma really did send them!”
“Isa, you let yourself get hit with something that obvious?” Esme teased.
“Shut up. The brat hit you too.” Isadora had gotten up with a scowl on her pale face.
“Nevermind that,” Angelo said, “where’s the bloom boy?”
Soji’s voice suddenly called out from behind a tree.
“I’m right here. Who the hell are you?” He said with a grin. It was not immediately apparent that he’d been crying moments earlier, though his eyes were reddened and his nose runny. The boy had again succeeded in beating down his grief with anger.
Kuro stood on a branch above his friend, a smaller, sharper branch in hand. He wore a frown on his face, angered by the threat to Soji’s wellbeing, but also masking his wariness for his own.
“Those guys took out Monika easily…we’re in a bad situation!”
~
June 19, 2022 - 7.32am
City Hall, New Eden, Bir Tawil
The nameless woman that the boys knew as ‘Coach’ and whom Monika referred to as ‘Big Sis’ was a celebrity among atma users. Although she never quite forgot that fact, she was always put off by people’s mixed reactions to just seeing her. The whispers of her name provided a bittersweet melody against the tapping of her heels against white tile.
Tamara Cain.
A title, more than anything. She certainly didn’t hate it, but relished in moments where she was just a passerby in life’s rivers. Tamara marched towards towering white doors at the end of a cavernous hallway. She was someone who never felt like she had to announce her presence, and therefore, didn’t. She walked through the door, as though it were an offensive suggestion, and found herself in a dark room with a lavish black marble table in the center. Surrounding the table were five oligarchs of discord; the Board of Elders.
Despite being somewhat close, their figures were obscured by some sort of atma technique. To Tamara, it looked like they were sitting behind broken glass.
“Tamara Cain,” a woman’s voice called out, “how kind of you to let us know you were coming.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s skip the preamble. I know you know about the bloom boy.”
“Then you know he needs to be destroyed. You can’t seriously expect any other outcome.”
“I can expect whatever I please. That boy and his friend are under my protection,” Tamara snapped.
“But I digress,” she raised her hands up in an attempt to make peace, “I came to make a wager. A Contract.”
“You’re joking…” the woman’s distorted voice urged with careful curiosity.
“You’ve already sent a team after my little ones,” Tamara accused, “So…if your team fails, you must allow Soji, Kuro and Monika to participate in this year’s Orchestra.”
She smirked at the Elders’ disdainful muttering. The Orchestra was an event that allowed atma users to compete to join the M.I.I. The boys, if successful, would have immunity from further attempts on their lives and would put them in a good position to carry out their plan. Asking for further protections would not only be rejected, but show her hand, emphasizing the disadvantageous situation she’d be in.
“Seriously, tell me you’re joking!” It was a deep and familiar voice this time called out.
“You’re barely even an active maestro with the Institute and you think you can show up and turn everything upside down? A bloom in the M.I.I. is ridiculous.”
“I agree,” the woman’s voice from earlier reclaimed control of the conversation, “the boy is an uncontrollable liability. Reports say he killed his entire family for goodness sake. He’s dangerous.” The room was quiet for a moment before Tamara spoke.
“You know…I distinctly recall you all asking me to do that once. Am I…dangerous?” She strutted slowly to the chair just to the right of the center and stepped onto the black marble table in front of it. With hands on her hips, Tamara tilted her head and stared down the Elder.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little wager, Yasu.”
~
June 19, 2022 - 7.32am
Unknown, Unknown, Nigeria
“Well thank you for saving us the trouble of hunting you. In accordance with M.I.I. laws regarding bloom subjugation, you are to be executed on sight. Don’t resist, and I can be quick.” Angelo spoke with an air of authority.
“You can’t tell someone not to resist dying. Has that ever worked for you?” Soji retorted.
“And can’t you even introduce yourself?” The boy casually took a couple steps towards the assailants surrounding the immobilized Monika. Kuro jumped down from his branch and put a hand on Soji’s shoulder.
“Soji. Don’t get too close. Some sort of technique is holding Monika. We can’t take these guys without her,” he whispered.
“So what do we do?”
“That girl,” Kuro gestured at Esme with his head, “Monika’s been flicking her eyes to that spear she’s holding and back to herself. Maybe if she lets go of it we can free her?”
“That’s a wild guess, but it’s better than what I’ve got. I’ll go for the brooding one, and you go for the girl.”
“Right.” The boys cautiously approached the trio, causing Angelo to chuckle.
“I was hoping you’d do that…killer.” Isa and Esme readied themselves behind Angelo while he pointed his staff at the boys in challenge, formally beginning the fight.