July 11, 2022 - 1:50pm

Eden City, New Eden, Bir Tawil

A steady flow of atma, laden with rage, wafted from Yasu Rose’s chair. The results on the screen were less than pleasing. Not only had Angelo failed to kill the bloom boy, but he was now being wheeled away, deemed unfit to continue. She’d have to make arrangements to keep him in the Institute. His grandfather would be upset. The spiteful old woman wasn’t sure which displeased her more: Angelo’s failure, or Soji’s team’s healthy position. The fact that it was Alex who’d gone around eradicating blooms for them made it even more irksome.

“Sensei, your atma… you’re killing the mood,” Hedeon yawned.

“Hedeon. Why is it that you cannot control your sister? Aren’t you the eldest? You’re going to let her bring this bloom into our organization?”

“You’re still on that? Tamara doesn’t listen to me! She hasn’t even come to see me once since she stormed in here last month! Andel only managed to get her out of the announcer’s room by telling her I was coming…can you believe that?” Using chopsticks, he carefully procured a single grape from a container full of them, then fed it to Vera. She plucked the grape from the chopsticks, and ate it.

“And as for the bloom thing…that boy is a child.”

“I don’t understand why you changed your opinion on the matter,” she grumbled. She had some guesses as she side eyed Vera.

“Eh, my opinion is that I don’t care. Although, a boy cursed by the Spine could be an interesting asset to the Institute.”

Yasu’s eyes bulged.

“That’s ridiculous…”

“It’s innovation. And it has the added benefit of turning the heads of all those countries nationalizing maestros. To be honest, I’d be surprised if more than a few showed up to this year’s Eden Conference. Alas, I digress…back to killing a kid!”

“You sound like Andel, using politics to justify wild notions. And your hypocrisy is astounding,” Yasu countered, “did you not just say that he’s a child? But you wish to make him a tool?”

“It’s a better alternative than death,” Hedeon chuckled. Barely…

“No, it’s getting in the way of what’s right. What you’re proposing is simply not how we do things,” the woman huffed.

“What’s right…I can’t remember the last time we gathered in this room to do anything of the sort,” the man said, “I’m gonna go watch the final round, I’m practically blind in here. Are you coming, ya amar?” He turned to Vera.

As usual, she wisely refrained from adding to the conversation. Leaving now would be a statement of its own.

“I’ll meet you there,” she replied.

With a snap of his fingers, Hedeon shot out of the room.

~

July 11, 2022 - 1:57pm

Eden City, New Eden, Bir Tawil

As Monika recounted her fight against Niko, Kuro’s eyes remained glued to her bandaged hand. He himself had sustained no injury, and Soji healed from all of his.

“And then I used David’s elastic to change my trajectory, and then I grappled onto her waist, and boom, Super Explosive Suplex!” Everybody laughed.

“That’s a stupid name,” Soji said.

“It won’t be so stupid when I come to break your back with it,” she retorted.

“Try me!”

“How are you two still so lively?” David groaned.

“Right? I didn’t do shit, and I’m still so tired.” Penny yawned. Attendants, dressed in the M.I.I.’s signature white uniform, came around for a second time, handing out plain, white badges. They all had numbers on them.

“What’s this?” Dione asked.

“It’s probably for the next round,” Kuro replied, “I wonder what we could possibly be doing for us to need badges.” He turned to David, whose intuition had been fairly accurate thus far.

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea what this could be about.” The boy’s Texan accent stretched out his vowels, annoying Kuro for no real reason other than pangs of jealousy.

“You know the drill, get in the rectangle,” the announcer returned once more, “This final round of the Orchestra ought to be the most exciting! You should all have received your badges by now.”

The last of the attendants disappeared behind a door that stood on its own. As soon as it shut, it vanished.

“Science, my ass,” Kuro mused, thinking back to when Tamara first took him in.

“Each of those badges shows you the number of points you’ve accumulated over the course of the last two rounds. Some of you have done well, and some of you…could use a little more work. So, there will be a series of one-on-one battles where the objective is to take your opponent’s badge, and half their points, by any means necessary.”

“Get ready for some bullshit matchmaking,” Soji sighed. Surely, he’d be pitted against somebody unreasonable.

“Actually,” the announcer replied, “the matchmaking is entirely up to all of you. Everyone will fight a maximum of two battles. One where you challenge any competitor, and another, where you are challenged. Once everyone has fought their two rounds, the third section of the exam will be over! The M.I.I. has decided to admit the twelve participants with the highest points. Since you, Mr. Ojo, have the lowest number of points, you may pick first. After that, the challenges may flow freely.”

“Huh? What happened to the whole minimum points thing?” Soji asked.

“Ah, after a discussion with the Elders, the requirements for qualifying this year have had a slight shift!”

“Don’t sound so happy about moving goalposts,” he grumbled under his breath.

Without warning, the city skyline seemingly in the distance flickered away, and the contestants found themselves in an arena like a football field, populated by cheering crowds. Camera-bearing drones littered the sunny skies. Somewhere in the crowd, Hedeon laughed at Soji’s irritation.

“You’re welcome, kid.”

“That’s more like it,” the announcer said, “a little livelier is better, don’t you think?”

“Have they been here this whole time?” someone asked.

“Yes, of course! The Orchestra is a big deal! Some people come to scout, some just to watch, but everybody loves a good fight!” The crowd roared.

“Now, now, there’s one final rule to go over before we begin. No participants may enter the rectangle while a fight is going on, and no fighter may leave the rectangle until the fight is over. Doing so will immediately relinquish one’s points to their opponent, and be removed from the competition. In the case of interrupting a fight, you’ll be removed from the competition. Everybody, except for Soji, leave the rectangle. You may look at the scoreboard to determine who you wish to fight.”

“Soji,” Kuro called, “pick me, then Monika will pick you! You’ll be set!”

“Ahem,” the announcer said, “voluntary distributing one’s points is allowed…but will be followed up with immediate disqualification of the donor!” Both Kuro and Monika shook their heads. Of course a rule like that would’ve been added. They’d been bold to attempt it in the first round too.

“I pick Niko Rose,” Soji said. Niko halted and turned around, a look of confusion on her face. She had a decent score, sure, but so did weaker opponents. She’d barely lost in an unfair fight, surely Monika had told him that much.

“Sure,” she grinned.

“This must be a revenge thing…”

“Begin!”

The girl pointed two fingers at Soji, and summoned a pair of wings onto his badge, which he had pinned onto his shirt. She called the badge to her, ending the round instantly. Soji stood stunned. Monika palmed her face.

“You idiot!” Even the crowd laughed at the sudden turn of events. The number on his badge was cleaved in half before she tossed it back at him and walked off nonchalantly. Before anyone could speak, David called out.

“I challenge Soji!”

Kuro and Monika turned to him, shocked.

“What are you doing?” The girl asked as he made his way to the rectangle.

“Getting bored,” he replied with a smirk. Monika could’ve sworn his accent wavered.

The match began.

Soji readied himself, unsure of what to expect. Of course the kind, cunning stranger had ulterior motives. Based on what Monika said about his technique, it’d be an interesting fight; he couldn’t rush in and risk being bounced out of bounds. David reached into his pocket, and fished out his badge. He tossed it at his opponent who instinctively caught it. Once again, the match ended with the sound of a buzzer, in less than a minute. Soji’s points shot up to the second highest, right below Penny’s.

“Why would you do that?” He asked as David approached him. He leaned in, and whispered.

“I’m putting you where you need to be. But next time we meet, and we will, I’m gonna hang you from a streetlight, just to see what color a bloom turns when it suffocates…black, or blue,” his accent vanished entirely.

“W-what?” Soji managed to whisper through the cotton in his throat. David just smiled in response, and turned away.

“Yet another surprising match for Soji in a shocking turn of events!” The announcer boomed over the chorus of boos, “David King is disqualified from the remainder of the Orchestra. You may stay to watch, or leave through the exit gate. Transport out of New Eden will be provided for you.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

David nonchalantly left towards the gate at the side of the stadium, winking at Monika as he did so. He left behind him, a dumbfounded Soji, as the next round started up without delay. The boy followed the brightly lit maze of white-painted concrete until he came across a rusted metal door. How uncharacteristic.

Cautiously, he slowly opened it to find nothing but a silver table with a white slip of paper on it. David picked up the note, pleasantly surprised to see a symbol matching the one tattooed on the left side of his ribs.

“So I can use that here…some contact you’ve got here, boss…”

“Omen,” he whispered. He felt himself dissolve into black dust and get sucked through what felt like a millimeter-wide tube for miles, before he was spat out onto the tiled basement floor of a building in the middle of South Africa’s Pretoria Zoo. There, Daisy barely acknowledged him while she poked around the exposed brain of a person begging for help. Tendrils of wood snaked around the operation table to gag him.

“Why do we always put the anchor in the basement?” He groaned.

“Because I work in the basement,” she replied, “and I like to know the comings and goings of every one of you.”

“Gross, are you my mother?”

Daisy stopped for a moment, and raised an eyebrow, turning to the boy.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Orchestra?”

“Your little experiment was about to get kicked out…I had to get involved and make sure he got in.”

“I appreciate your initiative,” she replied, “but now we’re one mole short.”

“One higher up, and one next to the bloom boy. Seems like enough to me.” David began walking upstairs, shuddering when Daisy’s patient looked at him with what should’ve been pleading eyes. It was difficult for him to see some people— maestro or non-maestro— as more than skin-colored collections of flesh.

He thought fondly of Soji, Kuro, and Monika. What beautiful faces they had.

“I’m glad I joined this group…I’ve gotten to meet so many humans! Real humans!”

“Where’s the boss?” he asked. Daisy stopped her meddling, and minced towards a collection of potted plants. She was trailed by a bloodied lab coat, finally shedding one of her extravagant dresses for something more practical.

“I’m curious,” she purred, “what makes you think Iosef is the boss?” The woman reached out with a gloved hand, and plucked a large, heart-shaped leaf from a purple flower. Atma crumpled it up and breathed spider-shaped life into it. She brought the newborn wraith close to her subject’s brain, and smiled when it crawled into his head, en route for his cerebellum. His cries would’ve been deafening had he not been gagged.

“This Ascension Plan of ours, it needs his technique. Doesn’t that put him in charge?” The boy replied.

“That’s a simplistic answer that I’d expect from Victor, or Tobias. Not you.” Behind her, her victim’s body shook violently as the floral spider extended thin spindly legs through his nervous system.

“You got me there,” David shrugged, “but I’m sure you know my real answer.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I believe him to be our leader for the same reason you facilitated his revival; he’s Iosef Cain, the man who orchestrated the Cain Massacre.”

~

July 11, 2022 - 2:43pm

Eden City, New Eden, Bir Tawil

After a series of battles, some long, some short, Kuro found himself playing a game of dodgeball with Javier Javier. The Brazilian boy’s silver soccer ball wove itself through the air, making it seem impossible to avoid. He laughed each time it almost grazed Kuro, greatly amused by the tenacity.

“Why are you trying so hard, cabeca-dura? It’s just a ball…” Javier stopped the ball with his foot.

“Yeah, right! It’s related to your technique somehow!”

“We all saw how you use that thing…” Kuro replied.

“What I don’t understand is why you haven’t done it again to close the gap between us…are you bad at close combat?”

“Don’t stress about it, man, I’m not getting close to someone holding a machete!” Javier kicked, and the ball spun as it flew once again.

Rend.

Using his blade, Kuro cut through the distance between them, and was assured by his opponent’s surprised face. Before he could hit him, he suddenly felt spongy atma twist the ground beneath his feet and rapidly turn him in the opposite direction. A light kick pushed him off balance.

“Finally!” As the ball returned, Javier threw it at Kuro, who reflexively raised his machete in defense. The blade disappeared from his hand the moment the two touched, and reappeared outside the rectangle.

The white-haired boy scrambled his feet as the ball swerved back to its owner, leaving the blade behind. The crowd’s roars were deafening.

“Meu Deus! Why did you throw me at a sword!?” The ball yelled, audible to nobody but Javier.

“Desculpe, Rebound.” The boy whispered back. Although Faithful Rebound had been in his possession for nearly a year, he never could get used to the fact that it talked. Even worse, he was the only one who could hear it, and constantly had to appeal to its ego to get it to cooperate.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t send you straight back home, moleque.”

“Desculpe, desculpe! When this is over, I’ll get you some nice gata basketballs,” Javier pleaded.

“Are you talking to your soccer ball?” Kuro asked. The audience, competitors and onlookers broke into laughter. This was certainly a bizarre Orchestra.

“But more importantly, what was that technique? The atma felt spongy…he’s an Environmental type. And that makes the ball an Instrument unrelated to his technique. I know what the ball can do…but what’s his technique?”

The ball began spinning in Javier’s hands before he threw it at the boy, once more. Kuro dodged, keeping an eye on the racing silver sphere as it took a wide turn to come back at him. He jumped over it, and towards the Brazilian. As he hit the ground, he felt that spongy atma rotate his entire body, albeit slower this time. Disoriented, he fell backwards to see the ball’s spin start up again. At the same time, he noticed the typhoon-shaped mark in the ground where he’d been pushed.

“That’s it!”

Kuro rolled aside just as the ball rocketed past him, and jumped up to his feet. He unfastened his sheathed blade.

“Your technique…it’s got something to do with rotation, doesn’t it?”

Javier’s widened eyes gave it away.

“Bingo! And if I had to guess, he can’t rotate more than one object at a time. He had to start spinning the ball again after he spun me around. Maybe there’s a weight limit, too.”

“What makes you say that?”

Kuro just smirked and threw his sheathed sword at Javier. He immediately rushed towards his opponent.

“So that’s your plan?” The Brazilian chuckled. He gathered atma on the ground beneath Kuro’s foot, then the air around the approaching weapon and rotated them both in the opposite direction. He was surprised, however, to see Kuro was still barreling towards him.

“How?”

The only answer to that question was a fistful of atma slamming into the side of his face. He increased his reinforcement to prepare for a barrage, and was surprised yet again when Kuro walked away from him and picked up his sheathed sword. He put a hand to his chest to check that his badge was still there.

“He didn’t take it?”

“Enough bullshit!” Javier yelled. Kuro shushed him.

“That was a test,” he said, shaping atma around his sheath into an actual blade.

“So he can rotate multiple objects at a time…maybe it has to do with atma. He let out a little burst of it before rotating me and my sword. Even if my sword is an Instrument, it’s incredibly well sealed. Not even a little bit of atma seeps out. Whereas his ball and myself both put out a lot…so his limit revolves around rotating objects with atma.”

Kuro pointed his thin sword made of atma at Javier.

“A test of wha—”

“This, too, is a test.” He swiped upwards at the air, and in doing so, erased the space between him and his opponent. With his left hand, he tore the badge from the Brazilian’s chest, swiftly ending the final match of the Orchestra. Cheers erupted from the surrounding audience, as Kuro left the rectangle to retrieve his machete, a victor. Behind him, Javier fell to his knees dejected. He slammed his fists on the grass then picked up his ball once more and vanished.

“And there we have our twelve new maestros! Everybody welcome Akorede Adesanya, Monika Rose, Niko Rose, Anish Talia, Penny Otta, Penthesilea Bara, Dione Bara, Israel Stone, the currently recovering Angelo Ricci, Esme Montoya, Alex Fischer, and Adesoji Ojo to the Maestro’s Institute of Innovation!” The announcer exaggerated every name and word, hyping up even the exhausted competitors who’d spent the last few hours in this grueling exam. They did it!

Soji and Kuro clasped hands, then embraced.

“What was with the theatrics, huh?” He teased his blade-wielding friend. Monika shoved him out of the way and playfully punched Kuro’s shoulder.

“You did it, Koko!”

“Ew, Koko?” Soji pulled Monika away, “When did this happen? What’s going on here? I didn’t consent to this! Since when are we doing nicknames?”

SNAP!

Finger snapping and a gust of wind announced Hedeon Cain’s sudden arrival behind them. All eleven of the new maestros felt a crushing wave of atma wash over them. Heartbeats raced, hairs raised, and reinforcements were woven. To Kuro, it was a feeling of dread similar to when he first met Tamara, but less blinding, and more like standing his ground against a raging hurricane.

Soon enough, the sensation faded as the Elder reeled in his atma. He wore a black suit with golden trim matching the long cane he repeatedly tapped against the grass. His blazer sat neatly on his broad shoulders and highlighted the muscular torso of a six-foot-two frame. His eyes, glazed white, made it further evident that he was blind, but radiated with a jovial spirit. He cracked a smile.

“Wow! Elder Cain makes an appearance to congratulate the new recruits!” The announcer roared, filling the stadium with even more noise than Kuro thought possible. Soji, with his senses enhanced, covered his ears.

“Good job, all of you. Don’t expect a speech, that’s up to your elusive dean to deliver. I came here to ask you,” he pointed at Kuro, “why you didn’t end the match sooner. You clearly outclassed that boy.”

The boy shuffled nervously.

“So this is an Elder…Tamara’s brother, no less.”

“I wanted to know what he could do,” he said. Hedeon nodded as if that was the right answer.

“Caution. Curiosity. Those are good qualities to have. Come to the rectangle,” he gestured. Before he thought to say anything, Kuro found his feet following the Elder’s instructions. Everyone just watched, the sense seemingly evaporated from their minds. Even Monika could only listen to the atma that sounded like the ringing of a blade meet Kuro’s soft violin.

“I’m going to swing at you, and I want you to block it, dodge it, or hit me first. Whichever seems easiest.” Golden blood spilt from his hand and wrapped around his cane to form a broadsword.

“That’s just like Tamara’s!” The trio thought in unison. Kuro raised his guard, remembering how quickly their mentor moved wielding a weapon like that.

SNAP!

As soon as he registered hearing the sound of fingers snapping, Hedeon was only inches away, mid swing. He bolstered his reinforcement. The loud clang of metals clashing rang in his ears. It took him a moment to realize that he was flying backwards through the air, reeling from the force of Hedeon’s attack. He landed several feet outside the rectangle, and rolled several more feet. Even with reinforcement, his machete was shattered, reduced to a jagged bit of metal on a wooden hilt. Soji and Monika worriedly rushed towards him. Kuro stood up and brushed himself off.

“Again.”

“It’s not teleportation…and it’s not shuffling like Tamara’s technique…”

“Bold of you to command me. But I’ll allow it just this once…” Hedeon smirked. He removed his blazer and threw it at the gathering of new recruits. Kuro was deep in thought as he approached the Elder.

“He snaps, then he appears…I can’t quite figure him out, but if I watch out for his snap, I should be able to dodge. But he’s an Elder…surely someone else has thought of that…I can’t make it too obvious what I want to do.”

“Are you sure you want to continue with that little bit of scrap metal?” The Elder taunted.

“I’ll live,” Kuro returned. His atma surged into the form of a crude and jagged blade.

“You’d better…” Hedeon raised his sword once more. Kuro watched the man’s movements, focusing on his fingers to determine his timing. He blinked.

SNAP!

Metal rang again, except this time, Tamara’s shining gold sword blocked Hedeon’s, barely a finger’s length away from Kuro’s head.

“If this man wanted me dead…there’d be nothing I could do!” The boy was suddenly looking up at a speck of light in the sky, while he sat at the bottom of a gorge miles deep. This was the immeasurable distance between them, the dark warden that gatekept their freedom. He fell to his knees.

“So this is what it takes to get my sister to come see me?” Hedeon laughed.

“I’m busy!” Tamara replied. She placed a hand on his chest, and shuffled the man away. The woman turned to her new students.

“Congrats, kiddies! Follow me!”

~

Tamara’s students trailed behind her silently. Now that the electricity of the crowd was wearing off, exhaustion weighed their footsteps. The woman knew this and said nothing as she led them through a series of tunnels, decorated by white light and unmarked silver doors. Eventually, they trudged up a set of concrete stairs, and finally found themselves at the exit.

One by one, they emerged into a gorgeous mahogany-framed lounge flooded with natural light. There was a wooden staircase to their right, but the kids were enthralled by the vastness and beauty of the space. It was equipped with a foosball table, light brown couches, several televisions, and even a small kitchen. The hallway on the side of the staircase extended all the way down with bathrooms and another kitchen. Windows with curtains drawn back overwhelmed the walls of the place, and offered a grassy view of the field overlooking the white and silver Eden City.

“This is where you all will be living over the course of your early maestro career!” Tamara announced proudly, “It was really ugly before but I fixed that. It’s got hella bathrooms, a fully stocked bar for some reason, two kitchens, an exercise room, and another living room upstairs, where all your rooms are…single rooms!” Penny and Dione raced upstairs, but found themselves shuffled back to where they started.

“The rooms have names on them, you can check them out when I finish,” Tamara said, “This residence building is just one small part of the Institute’s new— and first — campus here in Eden City. Because there aren’t that many of you, I don’t see a point in using any of those facilities except for your practical classes like training. Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to your instructors and give you a proper orientation. For now—”

“Food,” Soji groaned, “What’s the food situation?”

“Grocery store is a five minute walk away. But if you wanna eat out, they have delivery here. Since you guys are hungry,” she threw a wad of twenty-dollar bills at them, “you can go buy food. Oh, and you,” she pointed at Esme who was signing everything to Alex, “You look responsible, you’re in charge. Don’t let any minors near the alcohol.”

With that, Tamara for once, left through the door at the end of the hallway. She couldn’t help but smile when she heard the kids cheer behind her. She strolled through the gorgeous campus, humming to herself as she watched the nearby stadium relieve itself with a steady stream of spectators.

“We’ve only made it past the first hurdle, but it feels good. What was my idiot brother trying to do with Kuro? Was it just bait? Was it a message? Or did he want to see what the latest anomaly could do? I guess I do have to talk to him at some point…”

She turned a corner to find Yasu waiting, cane in hand.

“You won’t win this, girl. Whatever it is you’re doing is inviting chaos into the Institute and I will intervene.”

Tamara walked through the woman, using her technique to ignore that she was even there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if I did, then I already won the minute I was born, granny.”