A black hole collapsed in on itself. Its obsidian mass churned and twisted as it was compressed into smaller and smaller dimensions. I hung between the realms of the material and immaterial. Using the physical matter and stellar energy I was consuming to dig into an even greater source of energy, the great nebula, the source and dumping site for most of the spirits, memories, dreams, and magic of the cosmos. A source of energy so chaotic and nigh-uncontrollable, that only a few rare civilizations could tap into it, without destroying themselves.

There is a timeline whereupon, after going into the depths of space to finish my body’s refinement and adjustment process, I went missing for years. A timeline where the process of finishing all the changes and fine-tuning that needed to happen, for me to keep myself from becoming something too monstrous to leave amongst mortals, took decades.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too hard to tap into the immense well of power I was currently submerged in, to travel back in time, and render that timeline moot. I did what I needed to do, and came right back as I’d promised. I sailed back through the stars, flying through several solar systems that were a lot more desolate and empty now that I’d finished eating my way through them. I plummeted into Tesson’s atmosphere like a meteor. Shielding my body from the friction using my powers.

I was able to return to Tesson an hour and a half after I’d left. Returning to Grand-Basin City, and Ollie’s house, a little after that. With pastries from a pastry shop on the far end of town, in hand. I even had enough time to spare to decontaminate and absorb and sanitize any cosmic radiation, and anomalous energy, that was covering my body.

“Phew, you’re back…And you actually bought snacks…Neat,” said Ollie. Sounding relieved once she saw me again.

“I told you I would,” I said.

“Yeah, heh…I guess you did…Well, I guess that’s not too much of a surprise. You generally do what you say you’re going to do…” said Ollie.

“Nhn,” I said. Grunting in agreement.

“Hey, Edward are you like…Are you okay? You seem different somehow?” said Olympia.

“I am…whole now….Complete,” I said. Saying a little more than I’d intended to say.

“Uh…Okay…Well, your siblings and the rest of my guests are here,” said Ollie.

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In exchange for her timely assistance, I made sure to thank Ollie. Gifting her a set of, body and soul-nourishing, medicinal treats as well as a handheld gaming device that was made with a bit of scrap tech that I was able to pick up at the market, and some components I’d made myself. Naturally, I also coded, and prepared some games to go with the device, packaging them in cartridges so the games could be switched out conveniently.

The games weren’t just games. They were enscripted with psycho-spiritual induction effect that would allow them to interface with the user’s mind and spirit as they were played. I programmed the games to be nuanced in their mechanics. Nuanced to a point that there was a possibility that the average user might not find them to be the funnest thing in the world.

People who enjoyed realism in their play might enjoy it. Behind those realistic mechanics, there was even more data that would flow via the induction connection into the user. Long story short, these were games that could teach, and help the user hone, real life skills and abilities. I hoped Ollie would like them. She was an odd person, with a varied list of interests. Bookish ‘and’ outdoorish. Introverted, but well-connected. My first friend was a confusing, and bewildering mix of contrary traits. Even more bewildering was her response to the gifts. She gave me a hug and then requested a kiss. I kissed her on the lips. She turned red, and then she butt me in the head, the very next second. Smacking her forehead into my nose, in a fashion that honestly made me worry that she might have done more damage to herself than to me.

“Y-, you were supposed to aim for the cheek, dummy,” said Olympia. Fidgeting in place.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“....” I had nothing to say to that. I had enough knowledge regarding these things to understand that it seemed I really was at fault here. Though, I would have appreciated clearer instructions.

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Life carried on as it always did. The day of graduation grew ever nearer. “Young man? Young sir! How are you doing?! I’m glad I managed to catch up with you today. I am Sergeant Argent Vasquez. I was hoping I could just have a moment of your time to tell you about the opportunities that the Septem Armed Forces can bring you,” said a boisterous, slightly booming voice.

The voice belonged to a woman with a tall, muscular build. Her skin was a rich caramel, darkened by years of living and working under the sun. She had a round face, a turned-up nose, and large lips. Her hair was mid-length, dark and curly, and twisted into dreadlocks. Despite her introduction, I was actually quite familiar with Sergeant Vasquez, because this wasn’t the first time she had “introduced” herself to me to try and win me over.

I sighed.

“Good morning, Sergeant Vasquez. Nice to see you again. I would love to hear about our great nation’s armed forces, but I’m afraid I have an art history class to get to. Perhaps another time.”

To make a long story short, I might have miscalculated a little. I’ll also take the time to repeat my disclaimer that intelligence doesn’t equal smarts, many of the computers created as far back as the 21st century of the various alternate-earths were plenty “intelligent”, but they still needed a huge amount of help to learn what “trucks”, “stop signs”, and handwritten “3s” were. Ergo, there was nothing odd about me making a misjudgment now and then. To err isn’t just human, even machines can err as well.

I mean, first off, I wasn’t wrong in my surmise that being just moderately talented, with four innate affinities, wasn’t that big a deal. I had just forgotten to take locality and talent “distribution” into account. If you watch, or read, enough bad comedies, or are subject to enough bad jokes, you’ll run into at least one joke about how a person of so-so to average looks was actually the most attractive person back in their hometown of “blank”.

I had inadvertently stumbled into that kind of situation. Grand-Basin City lay towards the South-Western Edge of the Septmen Union. This remote positioning, and the canyon that surrounded us, insulated us from much of the danger that could be found in the Blau continent, but it also meant that we were kind of in the sticks out here, so to speak. We got trade thanks to the river that ran through the canyon, and we got news thanks to the radio and analog television broadcasts, but aside it wouldn’t be wrong to call us the middle of nowhere. If people dared to fly via airplane, our little city-state would have been a so-called flyover state.

The magical world was similarly remote for the Grand-Basin. The canyon helped us keep out most of the mutants and magical beasts. The few magus orders in the canyon basically kept to themselves, and mostly operated outside the canyon, just using the canyon as a place to sleep in and store their stuff.

Last but not least, the flow of environmental aether through the region was largely substandard. The nearest major ley-nodes were hundreds of miles away. The city’s founders had chosen defensibility over resources, and hypothetical future prospects, and left the beasts that lived in that part of the wild, untamed, wasteland to their own devices.

Long story short, while Grand-Basin City had a decent amount of mages, the true talents and geniuses were almost never seen here. This is why, something that would ordinarily not be a big deal, like the talent I’d revealed during the big appraisal day, was enough to have the local branches of the Septem’s Unions Army, the local temples, and the local orders pursuing me with an annoying ardency.

It wasn’t so bad at first, but as time wore on, my family’s mailbox started getting filled up with brochures and invitations, the recruitment calls started to become overly numerous, and individuals like Sergent Vasquez started showing up at the school. You’d think the school would do something about that last issue, but as I’ve mentioned before, the Academy’s existence was partially due to the support of the various factions that were presently hounding me. They paid for GBC’s youth to have an education, in exchange for access to us juniors once the recruitment period came around.

Unfortunately, for Seargent Vasquez, I was unlikely to ever willingly join the Setem Union’s military, and the Union’s control over its territories and constituent parts wasn’t sufficient for them to force me to enlist. Especially in this part of Septem, where we were far from the country’s core.

My original mother’s last orders for me, included an order to no longer follow orders. While the life of a social creature, inevitably, involves being subject to the commands and requests of others to some degree, there was a difference between an ordinary acquiescence to hierarchical social protocols, and putting myself beneath the regimented hierarchy of an army.

Of course, my other options weren’t that much freer, in terms of environment and layout, but the fact that I had choices at all was significant. Thus regardless of the pressure, I was under, I intended to carefully choose what group I would join. Though I might maybe choose quickly, so that the “flies” that insisted on gathering around me for whatever reason, would scram and aim for those who weren’t already claimed by a group.